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Regulus is in and out of the building they're hiding in: an abandoned thing that might’ve once had many rooms but has since lost many of its separating walls. He thinks it might’ve been a hotel or a hospital, an open lobby with what was probably once a garden in the center of it, an old, out of tune piano that might not even work surrounded by debris that few of them have the confidence to climb around in. Around it, on several floors, are mezzanines to walk on, leading to a series of doors. There’s a desk in the back.
It’s old, it's decrepit, and several parts of it they’re too scared to venture into but it’s hidden. It’s secret, and it holds all of them without cramping them together.
They’re upset about it, but James and Lily aren’t allowed to leave the building -- after all, when Regulus came to them and their friends, it was them that Voldemort was wanting, having been sold out by Peter. So, usually Regulus, Dorcas, and Mary are the ones to leave and get food and toiletries for everyone staying in there. Occasionally Barty or Evan will come by and give them proper updates -- Regulus can only do so much acting as a spy for both sides for the war -- but their visits have to be sparse and only occasional.
Regulus has been gone for about a week at this point, having to travel and stay for several meetings with Voldemort and has just returned back to the hideout. It’s the middle of the night and Regulus has just gotten into more comfortable clothes and laid down, getting ready for bed. However, as he’s feeling the sweet release of sleep pull him under, there’s a noise. Or rather, a lot of noise. Music, maybe?
It’s faint, but just loud enough to pull Regulus out of bed and onto tired feet. He ventures out of his room, on the second floor of the building and leans against the railing, feeling his breath punched out of his chest because-
Because James is sitting at the bench of the out of tune grand piano sitting in what was once a lobby. There’s debris around him by some of the doorways -- Regulus wishes so desperately he could know what had happened to this building to leave it in such a state -- and he’s sitting at the piano and-
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him play.” Sirius says from beside Regulus, scaring him out of his reverie, “Sorry.”
“No it’s fine, I just- I didn’t know that…”
“That James played the piano?” Sirius finishes for him, watching his best friend with adoration, “He’s been playing since he was a kid, told me that watching Effie play made him fall in love with it. But as he got older, he stopped playing. Told me that he only ever plays when he’s stressed or worried about something, like a release.”
“And you’ve heard him play?”
“Once,” Sirius shakes his head, “It was right after he got the letter that his parents were sick, dragon pox. I was with him when he got it and he ran all the way to the Potter mansion. He sat in front of that piano with his parents nearby for hours, playing song after song. I think he just didn’t want us to see that he was crying.”
“He’s beautiful.” Regulus breathes, watching his ex-boyfriend play. Regulus regrets their break up everyday. He was the one that left James after taking the dark mark, deciding that he didn’t deserve James, and after he left James went with Lily. They had a child together and seemed happy, but since Regulus went into semi-hiding with them, he’s seen that their marriage was more one of expectation than it was one of romantic love. They sleep in different rooms and alternate which nights they take care of Harry, which room he sleeps in. Lily and Mary seem to be flirting pretty heavily, which Regulus is glad that they’re finding light in the situation but James-
Sirius sighs, “He’s not doing alright… he’s worried about Harry, about Lily, about Remus and I, about Peter coming back… he’s worried about you, Reg.”
“Me? Why would he be worried about me, I- I was horrible to him.”
“That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t still love you, Reggie.” The older brother shakes his head, finally taking his eyes off of James to look at his brother, “You were his light. He knew that you weren’t leaving him because you didn’t love him. And I mean, you were the ones that saved us. You found him, you told him what happened, you saved his life. And the life of his son.”
“And you going around and risking your life, not saying anything to us for weeks is terribly stressful, even for someone that isn’t close with you.” Another voice says. Lily. Her hair is braided and her eyes aren’t shining like usual but she’s still breathtaking -- Regulus has always admired Lily’s beauty. The girl comes to stand on the other side of Regulus, placing a hand on his shoulder, a sleepy Harry resting against her shoulder and sitting on her hip opposite to Regulus, “We’re all worried about you. But James especially. I could tell that he never fell out of love with you. He was always checking the news to see if you showed up somewhere.”
“And you didn’t mind that?”
Lily shakes her head with a soft laugh, watching her husband -- they’re technically still married even if separated, “No. Because I didn’t love him like that either. Yes, we got married. Yes, we had a child together but both of our hearts were taken with other people. His was taken with you.” As she finishes her statement the song that James was playing comes to a close and another starts up, just as intense, just as emotional as the first. Lily takes her hand off of Regulus’ shoulder, “Go talk to him. Or at least sit with him.”
Regulus nods and rushes to the stairs of the building, hurrying down them with the echoing music James is playing sweeping him towards his ex. Towards his lover.
He climbs over the debris as quietly as he can, standing just behind James and watching the way his deft fingers fly over the keys. Even out of tune, the song that James is playing is breathtaking.
When James finishes with the song that he’s playing, he finally turns to see Regulus, offering a weak smile. His eyes are red-lined and tear streaks cover his puffy face. Regulus feels his heart drop into his stomach, “Hello Jamie.”
“Reg.” James says, the word coming out like a breath. Like a sigh of relief after a long, stressful day. James is too much of a worry. He wears his heart on his sleeve and worries himself nearly to death. If Voldemort doesn’t kill him in this war, James is going to work himself into his own grave.
Regulus moves to sit on the piano bench with James, wrapping his arm around James’ waist, “I’ve got you James. I’m sorry.”
James shakes his head, “You have nothing to be sorry about, Reg. You saved our lives.” His voice is shaky and tears well up in his eyes as he speaks.
“I have everything to be sorry about, Jamie.”
“Let’s not focus on what we did wrong.” James smiles weakly at his ex, leaning into his body, “If we’re facing the end of the world as we know it, what good is it to focus on the bad.”
“You’re perfect.” Regulus breathes, feeling his own eyes well up with tears, “Play me another one?”
James nods, his hands reaching towards the piano again though he doesn’t stop leaning into Regulus’ body warmth, “Of course.” And with that, his hands set to work on a piece -- likely muscle memory which is incredible to Regulus. It’s beautiful, it’s melancholic. It’s their relationship, it’s the world as it collapses around them, it’s the worries that they all have -- worries that they won’t make it out of this war alive, worries about their future, about their loved ones.
It's tragedy and it’s beautiful.
Regulus never takes his arm from James’ back, however he does lift his head from where it’s begun resting on James’ shoulder and looks around the old abandoned building. Sirius and Lily are still standing where he left them, only having moved closer to each other. Remus has come out as well and is resting his head on Sirius’ and Harry is fully awake in Lily’s arms and they’re all watching the two of them at the piano. As Mary starts to walk over to the four of them as well, her own eyes trained to the piano, Regulus shifts his gaze to where Marlene and Dorcas are leaning against each other across the second floor from the others. Dorcas offers him a smile and a nod.
He looks up for a moment, taking in the beautiful stained glass ceiling above them -- or what’s left of it as several of the coloured glass pieces has fallen from their frames -- and into the stars above for a moment before letting his eyes fall closed and letting his mind taken by the music James is playing, allowing those beautiful notes to sweep him into the night, into the stars, and into a better future.