Chapter Text
On Monday the third of March Regulus finds himself standing on James Potter's doorstep in the outskirts of London, almost four miles from his own house. Rain is running down his face, mixing with the salty tears that have been forming in his eyes for hours. His shoulders are slumped and his arms are bare. A backpack with his most precious possessions is weighing him down even more.
It’s three in the morning.
Regulus Black has very little faith in anyone coming to the door at this time of night but he hopes, he has a little ball of hope in his stomach forming. Hoping that someone might hear the loud knock on the door and open it. And if no one does. Well.. Regulus has no idea what he’ll do. Coming here was never his first option, he vowed he’d try and stay for as long as possible: leave when he’s eighteen and never look back on London. Move to Paris or a little french village and live his life peacefully.
One thing he knows is that he’s never going back now, never. He will never talk to his Mother again. He will never look her in the eyes and be scared of her, he won’t allow her to hurt him any longer. Because if he carries on like this, he’s not just going to break. If he stays there Regulus Black is going to shatter into a million little pieces.
He’s about to turn away and go find some park bench to sleep on when the door opens.
It’s James.
He sighs.
He doesn’t have any energy to hate on the older boy. At any other given point he would thoroughly enjoy it. But right now he’s just stopped crying and he wants to sleep, even if he has to curl up on their floor.
James looks confused for a second, his eyes wide like a deers - a deep warm brown. He’s standing there in Christmas pyjama bottoms and a hoodie with the Chelsea logo on the front. Regulus thinks that it’s ridiculous to wear Christmas pyjamas in early March. They have little Christmas trees on them. James suddenly realises who Regulus is and his jaw drops. The silence is loud, but only for a second.
“Reg?” James quickly scrambles to open the door properly and practically drags him into the house. It’s so warm that he doesn’t even realise he’d been shivering until he looks down at the goosebumps on his arms.
“I thought I told you not to call me that.” He drops the backpack to the ground and sits on the floor, pulling his legs up to his chest. The nickname Reg has.. Memories. Memories that cause a tightness in his chest he can’t escape. Of another version of him. One who he’d rather keep buried in the deep past.
“What are you doing here?” James asks, his eyes still wide.
“Why did you open the door?” Regulus ignores the question, answering it with his own. Because why did James open the door? It’s three and a Wednesday, any normal person would be fast asleep. When James doesn’t answer he gives a reply. “Quite an insufferable question to ask someone who just turned up at your house soaking wet though.” Regulus points out before letting out a final little sob and wiping his eyes. He composes himself.
“I was awake. The last time someone knocked on the door this early in the morning it was Sirius. So I always open the door, on instinct. And sorry.” James smiles at him, “I’ll go get my parents and Sirius.”
“No-“ Regulus bursts out. Then he says it calmly, he doesn’t want to disturb them. “No. I don’t want to wake them.” His feelings are so mixed. He wants to see his older brother but he’d rather not wake him.
“Don’t be silly mate.” James raises his eyebrows, “I’ll go get them.” Then he looks Regulus up and down as if scrutinising him before pulling off his hoodie and chucking it at him. “Put that on, you look like you’re going to catch hyperthermia.”
He begins to protest but reluctantly gives up as James bolts it up the stairs. He pulls the hoodie over his head, it smells like the taller boy, slightly sweet like cha. Then he leans against the wall and takes in the house. It’s quite big, as big as Twelve Grimmauld Place, but much lighter, airier even. There’s a small light coming from the kitchen and Regulus can see a laptop on the island, open with a mug beside it. He’s not sure why James would be up this late but reshelves that question for a later date. He doesn’t like to dwell much on James because to be honest, James is probably one of his least favourite people in the entire fucking universe. His Mother of course takes top of the list but James is quite close behind with his huge ego, his sense that he’s better than anyone else and the big fact he practically stole Sirius from him. Regulus is Sirius’ brother, not James.
And it’s especially difficult when Regulus hasn’t always been Sirius' brother, well not technically. He’d told Sirius he was a boy from when he could talk but he never quite understood until he started secondary school and has access to books on gender. So James being the “brother” Sirius always goes to is hard. Because really, that should be Regulus.
He can remember the first time Sirius mentioned this amazing James Potter with his crazy hair and awesome footy tricks. The funny, smiley boy from his form that quickly came to replace Regulus. That night he’d sobbed into his pillow.
And it only got worse from there. James this. James that. Quickly it became Peter and James. Sirius’ best friends. Never did he look at his older brother the same.
“Reggie!” Sirius shouts like a small child, charging down the stairs. “Que faites-tu ici?” He asks in french. He doesn’t speak it as well as Regulus, but enough to keep conversation up.
Regulus speaks French better than English, even if English is his native language. French just makes more sense in his brain.
“Je me suis enfuis.” Regulus watches his older brother as he descends into chaos, his mind spinning stories of what could have happened. He knows the look all too well. The ‘I’ve got to defend my little brother’ look.
“Are you hurt?” He asks, coming over to Regulus and checking over him like a worried Mother - not that Regulus would know what one of those is like.
“Dégage!” He rolls his eyes and stands up. He peels his sodden fringe away from his eyes on impulse.
Euphumia and Fleamont are standing on the stairs, both looking exhausted. James stands behind them, leaning against the bannister and playing with a bracelet on his wrist anxiously.
Euphumia rushes forward and pulls Regulus into a tight hug, for a second he freezes but she’s so warm that he can’t help but relax into it, he puts his head on her shoulder. He doesn’t know James’ Mother that well. She looks quite like him: brown skin, soft eyes and enough love to fill a whole room.
“Satvītī,” She whispered in a language he’s pretty sure is punjabi. “Oh darling, you’re shivering. Let’s get you a cup of tea and go sit in the lounge.”
“I’m sorry for waking you.”
She shushes him and walks into the kitchen. He goes along with her, Sirius and James trailing behind them. She makes him a hot mug of Cha and he takes a sip, relishing the sweetness that he doesn’t get much of back home. He warms up immediately, with James’ hoodie on the only really wet bit of him are his jeans.
The Potter's living room is cosy with brightly coloured mismatched sofas and about half a dozen fluffy blankets. He sits on the sofa opposite everyone else, distancing himself and curling up into the corner.
“I didn’t mean to wake you all up.” He says again.
“Nonsense sweetie.” Euphemia smiles at him, her eyes more worried than Sirius’. Hard to do, since he worries so much.
There’s an awkward silence and he realises they want him to talk. He tries to come up with an explanation for his reasons to leave but all he can do is summarise. Maybe at a later date he’ll go into more detail. “Since you left Sirius, Mother- well she’s been less physical. But I just.” He pauses. “I can’t stay there anymore, I’m sixteen in a few months. And I don’t think she’ll come after me because of the press and how tightly they’re watching her. But I really don’t have to stay here. I can go, my best friend Pandora said I could go stay at hers. This was just the first place I thought of and merde sorry this sounds so desperate. I shouldn’t have come.” He stands up to go. This is why he likes to stay silent in uncomfy situations, he just messes it up.
“Satvītī, you have always been welcome here. We have so many spare rooms and always have space for more of James’ friends.”
“I can stay?” Regulus is a bit shocked. Well more than shocked. The only person who really knows him here is Sirius. He grimaces at the friend bit. He’s definitely not James’ friend.
Fleamont answered this time, “My dear boy, of course you can.”
“Yeah Reg, please stay.” James grins and Regulus shoots him daggers back. “You can even have the room next to mine.” He jokes.
“Branleur.” He sticks his middle finger up. Fleamont giggles. He’s a grown man and he giggles. Regulus recalls Sirius telling him that Fleamont knows French.
“What does that mean?” James asks Sirius.
“He called you a wanker.” Sirius laughs. “Didn’t know you had it in you Reg.”
“Fils de pute.” He really can’t be bothered with Sirius or James right now. He wants to call Barty and listen to some Deftones while researching ways to kill his brother's best friend or something. Not have insufferable conversations with a brother who acts like he’s four years younger than he actually is.
“Well she is a bitch.” Sirius points out. Regulus can agree with that.
“Language boys!” Euphumia says but she has a smile on her face.
“He started it!” Sirius protests and suddenly they’re arguing at each other in a muddled mix of fast English and French, shooting back insults so vulgar Regulus is sure his Mother would drop dead if she heard any of them.
Sirius ends up storming out the room, James following after him. From the meagre amount of time he’s spent in this house Regulus notices that James pretty much never leaves people's sides.
“Well.” Fleamont pauses, “I’ll show you to your room. It’s quite plain but we can go into the city on the weekend and buy you some decorations.” Regulus grabs his bag on the way up the stairs.
He ends up in the room next to James by cruel fate, but it’s the nicest room. Bright with a big bed in the middle that he immediately collapses onto. His ribs begin to ache and he realises how long he’s been wearing his binder for. He should really wear it less.
“I’ll let you be.” Fleamont smiles at him.
“Thank you.” Regulus says but he’s already left. He sighs and opens up his rucksack. He’d left in such a hurry he doesn’t remember what he packed. He makes an itinerary in his head, four band t-shirts, his school uniform, two pairs of jeans and his black metallica hoodie. His toothbrush is stuffed at the bottom along with his textbooks for school and his pencil case. It’s a pretty pathetic amount of things but he’s sure he can sneak back in a grab the rest another day. Maybe. If he has the guts to ever show up there again. He needs his books though, so he will have to eventually.
He doesn’t bother with a shower or anything, he barely has enough energy to pull his binder off his head and put his tops back on before he’s collapsed onto the bed. The lights are still on and he’s still wearing James’ jumper. It’s probably the best night's sleep he’s had in a long time.
***
Regulus’ alarm doesn’t wake him in the morning. No - it’s James’ very loud singing coming from the bathroom. Very loud. He can tell it’s Taylor Swift just from the shitty American accent. He groans, living with James is going to be pretty god damn hard if he does this every morning. He rolls over onto the opposite side of the bed and pulls a pillow over his ears. No matter how hard he tries though, he’s not getting back to sleep. He can hear a muttering of voices coming from downstairs so he guesses everyone else is awake. Fucking rabbits, waking up this early.
Regulus picks his phone off the bedside table. It’s 7:15. There are a few messages on the group chat.
Barty Crouch Jr#1fanclub
Barty: Remind me to smack Reggie into next year when I see him tomorrow
Cas: what has he done this time??
Evan: He told Barty that slutty girl music is not an acceptable thing to play when he’s asked to put on music.
Barty: How fucking dare he
At least I’m not an emo like him
At least I don’t listen to people screaming into a microphone for sixteen hours a day
Cas: don’t even lie to yourself Barty, your taste in music is awful
Dora: I agree x
Barty: Course you do
To be fair on his behalf, Barty has the shittest taste in music. Worse than anyone he’s ever met. He replies with a middle finger emoji and leaves it there. Instead he rolls out of bed and onto the floor because being melodramatic is how this morning is going to be spent. So Regulus changes into his school uniform quickly, spending as little time looking in the mirror as possible so he doesn’t spend half an hour fixing a shirt that will never look correct on him. No: that’s a really dumb way to spend the morning. He pulls his headphones over his head, determined to get as little human socialisation this morning as is possible. Spotify starts to play the last thing he was listening to, jolting him even more awake when it turns out to be Arch Enemy. Not that he’a complaining. Metal music is really the only reason he’s able to have coherent thoughts, it blocks out anything and everything from his brain.
The bathroom at the end of the hallway is unoccupied so he brushes his teeth quickly and gives his hair a little fluff. It doesn’t have much hope, basically matted - his curls so untamed due to the little care he puts into them.
Downstairs Sirius and James are sitting at the counter loudly talking about football after school. A sport that Regulus has very little tolerance for. To be fair the only “sport” he likes is ballet. Even if he sounds like a ponce when he says that. It’s another way to rid his brain of thoughts, even if the uniform is too tight for him to bear.
“Morning!” James says, well mouths: Regulus can’t hear anything over his music. He points to his headphones and James dramatically pouts. It’s adorable. No. That’s the wrong word. It’s fucking annoying. He looks like a toddler who’s just been told to share his toy.
James stands up and walks over to Regulus. He stands there for a second before pulling his headphones right off his head and dangling them in the air.
“Hey!” Regulus shouts. Sirius chuckles and James lets out a loud laugh, a big grin on his face. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
James tilts his head to the side as Regulus tries to jump up and grab the headphones. This is why he fucking hates the older boy. Why does he think it’s okay to steal his headphones?
“What are you listening to?” He asks and then puts the headphones over his own ears. He immediately jumps and lets out a little scream. This time Regulus laughs, gasping for air. James looks so scared. He clutches his sides and giggles loudly.
James takes the headphones off and puts them on the counter, visibly shaken. Then he notices Regulus laughing and cracks a smile “So Baby Black actually laughs.”
Regulus goes back to his resting bitch face, “No.”
Sirius laughs this time, “Let me guess, you were just exposed to Regulus’ extreme music taste.”
“What was that?” James asks.
“Death metal.”
“Death metal?”
“Yes.”
“You listen to death metal?” James looks flabbergasted.
“What do you think I listen to?” Regulus questions.
“The smiths?”
Regulus looks at him. “Why would you think that?”
James looks him up and down and runs a hand through his hair.
Sirius is still sitting there, smirking. “Be careful there Prongs, he might look small but Reggie could rip your head off if he really wanted to.”
Before Regulus can do exactly that, Euphumia walks into the room. She immediately walks over to Regulus and kisses him on the head.
“Good morning Satviti,” She kisses Sirius and James on the forehead, obviously a morning person. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes. Thank you Mrs Potter.”
“No need to be so formal darling, if you’re going to be living with us please call me Effie.” She ruffles his hair fondly.
“Are you actually gonna stay Reggie?” Sirius asks.
“Probably.” He murmurs.
“You can stay as long as you need. Speaking of that though, we’ll need to get a family lawyer involved, just in case your Mother tries to claim custody of you. You seem sure that won’t happen but you shouldn’t have to go back there.” Effie sighs.
“You really don’t have too.”
“Oh but sweetie, you’re Sirius’ brother. So therefore you are family. Anyway, what would you like for breakfast?” She opens the fridge and gestures inside.
Regulus honestly doesn’t remember the last time he had breakfast. He usually wakes up and leaves the house as soon as possible, maybe grabbing an apple on his way out.
“I don’t usually eat breakfast…” He picks his headphones off the counter and puts them round his neck. He fiddles with the neckline of his blazer.
“What?” James again looks startled. “Breakfast is like the most important meal of the day.”
“Of course you’d say that.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?!” James sits down at the counter. He begins to pile pieces of toast onto his plate.
“Regulus you should really eat something. You’ve got school.” Effie hands him a piece of freshly buttered toast.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to eat, he’s just not used to being offered food in the morning. He grasps it and takes a bite, the warm toast melting on his tongue. When he goes to sit at the kitchen table he’s greeted with the sight of a big ginger tabby, asleep.
“You have a cat?”
“He’s called Cinnamon.” James comes over and tickles him behind the ears. Regulus reaches down, his hand brushing with James’ for a second. Tingles shoot up his arm but he ignores them. Cinnamon starts to purr when he strokes him, brushing his nose against his arm and stretching out.
Regulus likes cats. He’s always been a cat person. Unlike Sirius who always said it was dogs till the end. He even begged their parents for one until they locked him in the attic for two days. A punishment that seemed to reappear throughout their whole childhood.
“He likes you.” James comments.
“I like cats.”
“Obviously.”
Regulus sits in the seat next to Cinnamon, still stroking him softly. He resumes his piece of toast and relaxes. Effie starts to cook at the hob, humming a song under her breath. Fleamont stands beside her, putting an arm round her waist and kissing her cheek.
“Good morning my love,” He smiles.
They’re so in love. So in love for people not exactly young. She smiles at Fleamont and taps his nose.
Regulus wants something like that. One day. A love so strong it lasts past eternity. A love that rips him apart yet fixes him at the same time. A love that heals everything broken in him and makes him feel so warm. One day.
His parents are not like Effie and Fleamont. Quite the opposite. Silent exchanges and separate bedrooms. Regulus thinks they probably shagged twice, once to conceive Sirius and the other to conceive himself. He doesn’t like to think about that fact, because well, they’re still his parents. Even after years of emotional abuse.
Regulus finds that part hard. The actual hating part. He can pretend, he can scream it from the rooftops like Sirius does. But in reality he can’t properly hate them. Even if he wants it more than anything else. To feel hate for the worst people in his entire life. Sirius doesn’t struggle with that idea. He really does despise them. Sometimes they don’t understand each other. Brothers with such different views it’s hard to be close without rubbing.
“Good morning boys.” Fleamont says to them, giving Regulus an especially big smile. “So you’ve met the little shit Regulus. Be wary of him, he may look sweet but when he wants to he can be awful.”
“Sounds like someone I know.” Sirius says sarcastically. He shoots him a look, not an angry one. He doesn’t feel angry right now.
By the time he’s finished breakfast he and Fleamont have spent a good twenty minutes discussing Regulus’ Classics studies. He takes an interest like no one has before. Like how a Father is supposed to be. And Fleamont has such interesting questions, challenging Regulus and making him feel appreciated.
Sirius and James spend the entire time somehow stuffing copious amounts of eggs on toast into their mouths and talking very loudly, with their mouths full. Something Regulus can’t believe Sirius has already started to do.
“Boys, if you're going to get to school on time you should get going.” Effie points out. Regulus checks his phone and almost chokes. It’s eight fucking thirty. He should have left twenty minutes ago if he wanted to get there walking.
“C’mon Reggie. You and James are coming with me.” Sirius dangles his keys and Regulus wants to faceplant.
Fleamont starts to clean up breakfast and Regulus gives Cinnamon a final tickle behind the ear before following his brother and James out into the hallway. That’s when he realises he only has his docs on him, his school shoes lying in his wardrobe at twelve grimmauld place. Hopefully Dumbldore isn’t on patrol today with his stupid uniform regulations. He slings his backpack over his shoulder and leaves the house.
“Have a good day!” Effie shouts from the kitchen. Regulus waves back.
Sirius has his own car. It’s a beaten up black mini that he got half for his birthday and half for christmas. It’s really ugly. But whenever Sirius mentions it he calls it his “baby” so Regulus lets it go.
“SHOTGUN!” James shouts and runs up to the car and slides in, before Regulus can even get a word in.
So he ends up squished in the back of the tiny car, his bag beside him. Sirius plugs his phone into the car and Regulus buckles in for a not so fun journey.
James puts his arm over the headrest and ruffles Regulus’ hair.
“You doing alright there Reggie?” He asks.
“Fuck off.” He bites back.
“Calm down!” James jokes.
Sirius turns on a stupidly loud song, drowning out there bickering. It’s Taylor Swift. What is actually wrong with them? Taste is something they know not of. They start to sing along as well, somehow loud enough he can hear them over the music. James dives into a dramatic solo when it gets to the bridge, his head tipped back and his eyes wide and happy. He looks… beautiful?
It’s a painful ten minutes and Regulus sighs happily when they pull up at the school gates. The sixth form is just round the corner so he quickly exits the car. Sirius waves goodbye.
James shouts, “BYE BABY BLACK!” Much to his disgust. He gives him the middle finger and follows the stream of students into school, his cheeks red with embarrassment.
***
Dora is in their usual spot in the back courtyard, sketching something into her maths book along with her work. When she spots him she grins and stands up from the bench.
“Luce!” She flicks his cheek and gives him a hug. Her blonde hair is in braids down her back today, her blazer covered in multiple pins. Her bright eye makeup compliments her brown skin.
“Hey Dora,” He smiles at her and returns the hug. She’s perhaps the only person in the world he likes to hug. His own portable ball of cheerfulness. “Where are the others?”
“Barty is vaping in the toilets.” She makes a gagging gesture, “Evan is probably sitting outside waiting for him.” She rolls her eyes and giggles.
“And Xeno?” He raises his eyebrows at her.
Her cheeks go a bright pink. Xeno is her crush, a tall blond boy who constantly talks about nature. He’s chill, perhaps the first of Pandora’s crushes who isn’t an absolute prick.
“I’m not sure.” She sighs and they begin to walk to form. That’s how they met. The first day of year seven. They weren’t in the same house but their form rooms were opposite each other. Pandora likes to call it fate. How they walked out at the same time, locked eyes and smiled at each other. Then in art they were put next to each other and their friendship bloomed on their mutual love of art and alternative music. She’s his rock. His best friend. No matter how soppy it sounds.
“I need to tell you something. Don’t freak out.” He says.
She pauses in her stride for a second. “What is it?”
“I left.” He breathes in. “I think I’m staying with Sirius now.”
Pandora looks at him, her brown eyes sparkling. “With James Potter?” It’s her time to make a joke. That’s what he loves about her. He could tell her the most serious thing ever and she could read that he just wanted her to know. He didn’t want a conversation.
“Yes. He’s even worse to live with than he is to be around.”
“I bet. I’m proud of you though. You made it out.” She squeezes his arm.
“Thanks Dora. It’s nice. Really great. Now why the fuck is Barty vaping again. I thought he gave it up.” He changes the conversation.
She throws her hands up, “That’s what I said! Apparently he needs a nicotine boost to get him through year eleven. Doesn’t make sense.”
“He’s just dramatic. Worse than my brother and that is saying something.” He fiddles with the skull ring on his finger - a gift from Pandora for his birthday last year.
The corridor starts to flood with crowds of students, all pushing to get to form on time. Pandora grabs onto the strap of his bag and he tries to push them through the tsunami of teenagers, all shouting. They survive.
***
The school day goes by pretty quickly. Cas delivers them a box of chips through the school gates from the chippy down the road, since her sixth form privileges let her leave school for lunch. Maths is shit. History is good. Everything else is so mundane he hardly remembers it.
By the end of the day, he’s told all his friends. Barty rugby tackled him, Evan gave him half his chocolate bar and Cas shrieked so loud a bunch of year sevens ran away.
He leaves school with his headphones on, actually looking forward to the walk home: it’s always a nice way to decompress.
Instead, Sirius is sitting there in his car. The window is rolled down. James sits beside him, talking to some random girl standing outside the door.
“REGGIE!” James shouts.
Regulus hates his fucking life. But especially James bloody Potter.