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Molly quietly peers into the upstairs sitting room, where Harry, George, and Hermione have gathered to tackle the daunting task of dusting Grimmauld Place. What was supposed to be a straightforward chore has proven to be far more challenging than anticipated. The ancient house, filled with history and dark secrets, should be in perfect condition. If only Krecher had carried out his expected duties it would be.
Regrettably, Kreacher's devotion to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black disappeared when ownership of the house was transferred to Sirius from the deceased Walburga and Orion. In their absence, neglect took its toll, allowing layers of dust to settle and traces of malevolent magic to linger within the walls. The air is thick with traces of dark magic and evil, making everyone tread carefully, wary of potential traps that Voldemort's followers may have set.
Despite Sirius painstakingly scouring every nook and cranny for remnants of dark spells and declaring the house safe, the inhabitants remain cautious at every turn. Only one area remains strictly forbidden; the Black family's vault, hidden deep in the basement, accessible only by Sirius who, despite his best wishes, carries Black blood in his veins. Not even he dares brave what monstrosities live in there.
Harry lifts onto his tiptoes to dust off the top of a decorative torch in a wall sconce. Hermione stands behind him and dusts the top that he can't reach. “Thanks,” he says, grateful.
“You’re welcome. How about you dust off the knick-knacks on the tables, and I’ll take over the walls and shelves?”
"That's great," Harry says, ducking under Hermione's extended arm and meticulously dusting off the myriad of terrifyingly beautiful knick-knacks that clutter the house. Citing sentimental attachment, Sirius adamantly refuses to part ways with all non-essential items, including the knick-knacks, despite Molly's best efforts to persuade him otherwise. However, Harry can't help but question the true worth of these possessions, considering they once belonged to a family that shunned Sirius most of his life and eventually cast him out.
Harry makes a mental note to talk to Sirius about it later, hoping Sirius might listen to him or Remus, imagining how transformative it would be to rid the space of its dark, gloomy, and crowded ambiance. His attention is drawn away from his hopeful thoughts when Molly lightly taps on the open door. "Hello, Mrs. Weasley," he greets.
“Hello,” Hermione echoes.
George hides his feather duster behind his back. Ever since he was young, Molly has ingrained in his mind not to resort to magic for cleaning due to its limited effectiveness. He cleverly stashed his wand in his feather duster the day after Molly forced him to scrub the third-floor bathrooms by hand for hours. "Whatever it is, I didn't do it!" he announces.
Molly waves the proclamation off. "I don't believe that one bit, but that is not what this is about. We’ll revisit that later. There is one more bedroom that hasn’t been cleaned. I am about to cook dinner and Arthur is out with Sirius, Remus, and Draco looking for party decorations. I need someone to get started in that room. Would anyone like to volunteer?”
George lets out an exasperated groan, knowing full well that he'll be picked for the task because dusting is not a three-person job and could easily be done by just one person in a matter of hours. The task was initially assigned to Hermione, but George joined her to avoid the dreaded garden de-gnoming duty that was on a relentless repeat with no end in sight. He is tired of the little devils biting him. Bite marks mar his hands because Molly refuses to heal him, claiming he should be more careful.
Meanwhile, Harry, after organizing the kitchen pantry, stumbled across Hermione and George and decided to stay because he couldn't find Molly to ask her to assign him his next chore.
George pulls a face at Harry and nods his head to the door, obviously telling Harry to volunteer. Harry places his duster on the table. “I’ll do it,” he says.
“Thank you, Harry, dear. George, you come too. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing here.”
“But, Mom,” George complains. “I’m tired.”
“So am I but you don’t see me whining about it. Hop to it.”
“Okay, Mom.” George hides a wince as he leaves his duster with Harry’s. He can’t remove his wand in front of Molly. Hopefully, no one moves the duster before he can get his wand or ask Ginny to.
The room that Molly leads them to is on the third floor of the old, creaky building. As they walk down the dimly lit hallway, Harry notices the sconces that lit this area have been violently ripped off, leaving behind a trail of peeled paint and ruined plaster in their wake. Feeling uneasy in the dark, Harry casts Lumos to dispel the darkness and take a closer look at the door.
The first thing he notices is the burn mark, resembling the size of his forearm. Squinting in the faint wand light, he barely makes out the engraving beneath the burn - R.A.B. Realization dawns on Harry as he connects the dots; this must be Regulus Black's room, Sirius' dead younger brother. No wonder Sirius dodges every question Harry asks about this room. He’s been curious about this room for a while but has always stayed away, as per Sirius’ request.
Harry recalls a peculiar night when Sirius, in a moment of vulnerability fueled by Fire Whiskey, poured his heart out about Regulus. His emotions overflowed as he shared stories with Harry, mistaking him for James. For one night, Sirius was transported back to school where he did the mundane task of complaining about his sibling to his best friend. Sirius doesn’t seem to remember that night, so Harry never brings it up.
Harry traces the engraving. It seems as if Regulus has been signing his name like this way before the locket. “Are we allowed in here? Sirius told me this room is off-limits.”
Molly's smile fades as her eyes follow the path Harry's finger traces over the sloppy engraving, most likely done with something crude, like a knife, rather than by magic. After a brief pause, she answers. "Yes. I asked Sirius a few days ago if we could clean out this room to make room for more people to live here. We can, but only if we work on it when Sirius is out of the house."
“Why is that, Mom?” George inquires.
Molly pats his shoulder. “That is not my story to tell. All I can say is there are upsetting memories for Sirius behind this door. Keep what you find between yourselves and me.”
It is no coincidence that Molly chose Harry and George for this task. Harry's loyalty to Sirius is unwavering; he would sooner surrender himself to Voldemort than harm Sirius in any way. As for George, a known prankster; he is the most caring person Harry knows, with a mental lockbox of more secrets than anyone could ever guess. If they find anything of importance in Regulus' room, George won't tell a soul, not even his siblings.
“Yes, ma’am,” Harry says.
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Molly says.
“We need the key,” Harry reminds her.
“You don’t need one. The door will open for you. You are the heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.”
"Oh." Harry stands in the hallway, his mind swirling with memories that date back three years to their victory over Voldemort. The transition into his role as the Black family heir still feels surreal, even though Sirius willingly relinquished the title in favor of a life with Remus, unaffiliated with his family. Harry's first act as heir, the dismissal of Kreacher and removal of the horrible Black family tapestry, symbolized a fresh start for both himself and Sirius.
George's impatience is palpable as he awaits Harry's next move after Molly disappears down the hall. Harry can't move, though. Every corner of this house whispers stories of a tumultuous past, with this particular room holding onto the eerie legacy of Regulus Black's mysterious disappearance after stealing Voldemort's locket.
Harry longingly wishes Draco was here beside him during this momentous occasion. Ever since their sixth year when Harry almost killed him in the bathroom, Draco has been Harry's rock in hard times. While their romantic relationship didn't fully blossom until after they graduated from Hogwarts, their feelings for one another had been quietly brewing long before then.
Regrettably for Harry. Draco is currently occupied with Sirius, Remus, and Arthur, busily preparing for their upcoming wedding. Ignoring Harry's eagerness to assist with wedding planning, Draco banned him from helping with anything but the guest list, because in Draco's words, Harry is a "boring, bland idiot who couldn't plan a wedding even if the plans bit him in the ass." As a result, Harry was relegated to the less glamorous task of tending to household chores.
He, Sirius, Remus, Draco, Ron, and Hermione have called Grimmauld Place their home for a few years now, but the exhaustive deep cleaning they did during the war is nothing but a distant memory. It's been years since anyone has done more than vanish trash or surface-level cleaning with magic and it shows.
Post the upcoming wedding, Ginny and Luna plan to move in as well. After the thrill of playing professional Quidditch for a couple of years, Ginny is ready to settle down with Luna, who runs a successful apothecary in Diagon Alley, and work with George in the joke shop.
George may eventually move into Grimmauld Place as well, currently living in a small apartment above the shop. He's mentioned in passing that he feels almost ready to leave that part of Fred behind, to move on, and it is difficult to do that when he spends most of his time in his and Fred's dream. Although he plans to keep the shop open, he wants to shut the door on that chapter of life, to not go to bed every night in a home that reminds him of Fred.
Wishing to recreate the atmosphere of Gryffindor Tower, Harry wishes he could invite the entire Weasley family to live with him, Merlin knows the house has enough room, but they would never abandon the Burrow. Still, Harry is always on the hunt for someone new to move in because the house is so big that even six people don't curb the loneliness. He could go days without seeing another soul if he so wished.
"Harry, are you okay?" George's voice abruptly jolts Harry out of the swirling thoughts that have consumed him as he stands frozen in front of the door, his hand hesitantly gripping the doorknob.
"Don't worry, George. I'm fine," Harry lies. "I was thinking about the wedding." With a heavy exhale, he pushes the door open, disappearing into the shroud of darkness.
"Where are you going for the honeymoon?"
“We don’t know yet. We haven’t decided. I want to go to the beach, but Draco wants a retreat in the mountains. Maybe we’ll do both, we have the money.”
Harry's wand emits a soft glow that illuminates the room, gradually bringing everything into focus; a dusty bed adorned with emerald green sheets with silver accents, a desk, and an open closet door. It seems as if Hogwarts never truly leaves anyone's heart. (Harry's sheets are Gryffindor-themed, Draco despises them.)
After Harry carefully lights the sconces on each wall, he casually tucks his wand into his waistband, a habit that many have warned could have nasty consequences, but he would rather risk it than lose his wand every time it leaves his hand. "This won't be too hard. It's mostly clean already.”
Fred peers into the closet. “Don’t be so sure. Come look.”
Harry groans in exasperated disbelief as he peeks around Fred to take in the sight. "You're kidding," he mutters, incredulous. Inside the closet, an overwhelming array of moth-eaten clothes hang from racks while multiple chests are stacked precariously, three or four high. "Well, let's get started. We might not have long before Sirius and the others come home, and I want to finish this in one go."
Together, Harry and George pull armfuls of clothes off the rack and dump them on the bed, causing a cloud of dust to engulf them. Harry coughs, battling the swirling particles. They spend two hours meticulously sifting through the garments, debating over which ones can be salvaged through repairs and which ones are beyond saving. Regulus had good style. Harry has seen pictures of Sirius when he was younger, and Regulus blows him out of the water. Sirius has the bad-boy style while Regulus’ clothes give off mafia boss vibes.
They leave the good clothes on the bed and Harry vanishes the rest, certain that Molly won't be upset over such a simple spell. It is way quicker and more efficient to vanish trash than to run it all the way downstairs and outside to the trash cans.
George lifts the first trunk off the top of the stack and easily carries it into the middle of the room. Harry does not stare at George's bulging muscles. It's no wonder George was such a good beater with arms like that.
The inside of the trunk is lined with vials of mysterious liquids. George intervenes as Harry reaches for one of the vials, stopping him from potentially coming into contact with hazardous substances. "I'll deal with this one. Fred and I passed a poison-detecting test before we could open the shop. I may not know what these potions are, but I can find out if they're dangerous."
Harry hands his wand to George since George left his own in the sitting room. George takes it with a sheepish smile. “You knew?”
“I would have done the same if Hermione wasn’t around. She has an uncanny ability to tell when Ron and I cheat on anything.”
Harry places more sturdy trunks full of potions carefully beside George. Luckily, the next trunk - the largest one with six locks - feels almost empty. He wandlessly unlocks the trunk and peers within. "Hmm," he hums in surprise.
"What is it?" George inquires from his spot on the floor, legs crossed as he diligently examines each vial with a detection spell. Having already made his way through half a trunk, George has only come across sleeping draughts and healing potions meant for wounds inflicted by dark magic. Thankfully none of the potions have contained dark magic themselves.
“This one is empty except for a key.” Harry holds the small silver key up for George to see.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Harry confirms.
“I wonder what it’s for.”
"I'm sure we'll find out at some point," Harry says before pocketing the key and scooting the chest into the hallway to get it out of their way. The lack of foot traffic makes this hallway a safe spot to cram things into while they work without posing a tripping hazard.
The only other room on this floor is Sirius' old one, which is now Draco and Harry's. Sirius decided to distance himself from the traumatic memories associated with his childhood bedroom, so he and Remus moved into one of the guest rooms on the second floor.
Considering the ample storage space available in the closet, it is highly likely that Draco will want to convert Regulus' bedroom into an office and potion room. The space won't need to be big because they'll spend most of the year at Hogwarts, only needing the at-home potion room for holiday breaks and summer.
They applied to be the Quidditch coach and potions professor the year before, and McGonagall accepted them, overlooking all other candidates. She's been begging for at least one of them to return to Hogwarts to teach since they graduated. She also made attempts to sway Harry into taking the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position, however, even with the curse on the position lifted, Harry remains steadfastly reluctant to accept.
Harry turns to grab another trunk but stubs his toe on the lifted edge of a floorboard. Bending down to inspect the warped wood, he notes the jagged edges, as if Regulus had forcefully ripped the wood up and often moved it. Curiosity piques Harry's interest as he remembers the handy trick of hiding personal effects under the floor while living with the Dursleys. What could Regulus Black need to hide so badly that he tucked it under the floor?
A musty scent invades his nose as he pries the panel up and reveals a solid red chest nestled in the secret compartment that stands out amongst the sea of identical trunks they’ve dealt with so far. The key Harry found perfectly matches the lock on the chest; it tempts him to explore further, but he shouldn’t open it. This is Regulus’ personal property that he didn’t want anyone to find. Harry should respect his privacy.
But, on the other hand, Regulus was a Death Eater. What if he hid something dangerous in here? Harry rolls his eyes at his bad attempts at rationalizing his nosiness. He slips the key into the lock and opens the lid.
It's slightly disappointing to find letters instead of bones or a deadly potion, as Harry had anticipated something more mysterious or dangerous given Regulus', albeit biased, reputation based on Sirius' rare stories. The parchment crinkles at the edges as Harry delicately lifts them out, revealing a mix of handwriting styles that indicate they were written by two different people - or by one person with a serious case of a personality disorder; one with hurried scribbles and the other with an elegant, flowing penmanship.
The letters are neatly stapled together, bringing Harry relief since he won't need to enlist Hermione's help in organizing them in chronological order. That's more work than he wants to put in for snooping.
The first letter is nothing more than a few sentences, but Harry devours the words like a starving man would a hamburger.
October 14, 1977
I’m not like your brother. I won’t leave you alone until you let me save you.
Save who from what? Is this Regulus’ writing or the other person’s? Harry flips to the next letter, eager to learn more.
October 14, 1977
Forget it. I do not need to be saved. My brother may have been a coward who ran from his destiny, but I will not be.
—
October 14, 1977
Sirius wasn’t a coward. He left because he would have died if he stayed. You can leave too. My family will protect you.
—
October 14, 1977
How long will it take you to get it through your thick head, Potter? I do not like you. I do not want you to protect me. I am happy where I am.
—
October 14, 1977
If that were true, would I have found you crying in the prefect’s bathroom because your mother cursed you so badly that you were on the verge of bleeding out from a gash on your chest? You can’t lie to me, Reg. I already saved your life once, let me do it again.
—
October 20, 1977
I know you’re ignoring me. You won’t even look at me in the halls. I haven’t told Sirius about your injury if that's what you're worried about. He doesn’t even know I met you. I don’t want to give my best friend hope that he might have his brother back. I’ll leave you alone from now on unless you reach out first. I can’t help unless you want it. You can find me in Godric’s Hollow. Show up if you ever want help.
Harry's breath speeds up as he connects the dots in his mind, Regulus identifies a “Potter”, and the messy writer refers to himself as Sirius' best friend, meaning Regulus' mysterious pen pal has to be Harry's father, James. However, Sirius never mentioned the two knew each other in his stories, not saying much about them other than Regulus sided with their parents during the war and Harry acts just like James with a dash of Lily's personality.
"George!" Harry yells, not realizing how panicked he sounds until George slams into the doorframe, holding Harry's wand aloft, ready to fight off whatever dastardly creation has taken Harry hostage, only to find Harry kneeling, clutching a stack of parchment to his chest like a teddy bear, tears streaming down his face. "Harry, are you okay?" He asks, gesturing to his own face.
Harry gently touches his face. His fingers come away wet. It’s been so long since he’s learned anything about his dad. Sirius gifted him the scrapbook, but it did little to reveal who James Potter was. These letters, if they are from James - there is always the possibility of there being another Potter at Hogwarts at the same time as James - are a direct insight into James’ soul.
“I’m fine,” Harry gasps. “I found something. They’re letters. Between Regulus Black and someone else. I think it’s my dad.”
George’s mouth drops. “Really?”
Harry hands him the letters. “Read the first few. It has to be James, right?”
George scans the letters Harry indicated. “Yeah,” he agrees. “It sounds like it. Your dad was Sirius’ best friend. I didn’t know Sirius had a brother, though. Who is he?”
“His name is Regulus, this is his room. He was a year below Sirius and a Death Eater who sided with their parents and Voldemort. He and Sirius were estranged from the moment Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor and gave up his parents’ views on magic. Sirius doesn’t like to talk about him often. I only know because Sirius told me by accident.”
“What happened to him?”
“Dumbledore and I found a Horcrux during my sixth year that turned out to be a fake. Regulus Black allegedly turned against Voldemort at the last second and stole the real one. No one knows what happened to him after that. He disappeared. The most likely possibility is he died retrieving the Horcrux - Dumbledore and I almost did - or Voldemort found out and killed him. He might have survived and is hiding somewhere, but I doubt it.”
“Does Sirius know about Regulus turning against Voldemort?”
Harry shrugs. “I don’t know. We didn’t tell him. He probably thinks Regulus was killed by Aurors or Voldemort. I decided not to tell him because I thought it would be more painful. According to Sirius, he tried so hard to sway Regulus away from that life, to save him. I thought it would break Sirius’ heart to know that Regulus chose good in the end but it didn’t save him.”
“That’s heartbreaking.” George’s mind conjures up thoughts about experiencing the same with Fred. It’s a nightmare. “If Sirius doesn’t like his brother, why was he guarding this room so tightly for years? Why did his best friend write letters to his little brother?”
“Like your mom said, Regulus’ room holds painful memories. I’m sure Sirius didn’t want to air them out. Which is why we’re doing it instead. As for your other question; it sounds like my dad and Regulus met accidentally. Regulus was injured and my dad found him. From what Remus has told me, James was the kindest person ever. He would want to help Regulus, hence that first letter.”
George nervously ruffles the edges of the papers by fidgeting. “Do you want to read more? What if your dad wasn’t who you think he was?”
Harry holds out his hand. George gives him the letters. “I’ve seen Snape’s memories of my dad. I know he wasn’t the best person. Still, I need to know. I feel a connection to these letters that I can’t explain. Something is calling me to read them as if Regulus and my dad are begging for someone to know their story. It sounds ridiculous, I know.”
“Alright, then.” George slides down the wall until his butt hits the ground beside Harry. “Let’s do it.”
“Do what?”
“Read the letters, of course.”
“You don’t think it’s weird or invasive to read them?”
George takes a deep breath, tilting his head back until it thumps against the wall. “I think,” he says, “that if I found secret letters from Fred and someone else, and it was the last thing I had of him, I wouldn’t be able to stay away. I would want every day for the rest of my life to pretend he was with me again, even just for a little while, by reading those letters. Yes, it is a breach of trust and privacy, but they won’t know.” George nudges Harry’s side with his elbow. “I can’t judge you for doing something I would do.”
“Thank you,” Harry says, teary-eyed.
“Don’t mention it.” George flips to the letter they left off on. “Wow, Regulus was serious about not wanting help from your dad. This letter is from June 29, 1978.”
June, 29th, 1978
I was wrong. I and some of the other Slytherins have been talking. We want out. If you are serious about helping, we will be waiting for you tomorrow night. Angus (the owl) will lead you to the meeting spot.
Harry’s breath catches. “Regulus didn’t become a Death Eater. Sirius is wrong! He must not know Regulus asked James for help.”
“We don’t know if this plan worked. What if something went wrong?”
Harry flips to the next page, not a letter, but rather a note passed back and forth between James and Regulus.
July, 9th, 1978
I’m glad you asked for our help. It’s nice to see you out of your room for once. How do you like my house?
Fuck off, Potter. I did not ask for help so we could be friends. I want to eat breakfast in peace.
But you asked for help anyway. It was a brave thing to do. I’m glad Crouch and Rosier came with you. How are they enjoying their freedom?
Those fuckers will not stop making out everywhere now that they will not be cursed for it.
What about Sirius? Have you told him you’re here yet? I can give you Remus’ address.
No. I do not want him to know yet. The first thing my parents will do is look for him to find me. If Sirius knows I am at your house, he will come back. We will all be in danger.
My parents won’t let that happen. They’ll protect us all.
You underestimate my parents.
Look at what you did! You got us in trouble for passing notes during breakfast! Your mom hates me now.
My mom doesn’t hate you. She’s happy you finally took me up on the offer for help. I talk about you all the time.
You talk about me?
To my parents. Sirius would kill me if he found out I knew you before you left. He would feel so betrayed.
Will he feel betrayed that you are the one I went to for help now that I have left?
He’ll be too relieved that you’re safe to be angry. It’s all he’s ever wanted.
That is all I ever wanted for him too. Thank you for being there for him when I was not.
“Oh, Merlin,” George says. “It worked. Your dad got Regulus Black out of this house. It sounds like he and his parents did the same for Sirius.”
Harry nods. “It’s cute to know Remus and Sirius loved each other back then, too. They don’t talk much about their time at Hogwarts.
“I wonder why Sirius doesn’t know what happened to Regulus if your dad saved him. How did Regulus betray Voldemort if he escaped the Death Eaters?”
Harry holds up the sizable stack of letters that will take them hours to make their way through. “I’m sure the answer is somewhere in this.”
September, 1, 1978
You have to stay away from me at school. My parents think I have been staying with Barty all summer to prepare for the new school year. They will kill us all if they see us hanging out. Tell Sirius, Remus, and Peter too.
—
September, 1, 1978
You just had to wait to tell me that on the train? I was about to come find you and sit with you.
—
September, 1, 1978
I am sorry, James. I did not think about it until now. We can still send letters, but once we get to Hogwarts, you cannot sign your name or mine, or mention anything that might reveal who you are in case someone finds these letters.
—
September, 1, 1978
You don’t burn my letters after reading them? Careful, Reg. I’m starting to think you like me. P.S. I don’t burn yours either.
“Is it just me,” George says after rereading the last letter, “or does it seem like your dad was flirting with Regulus?”
“It’s not just you. That last letter sounded pretty flirty.”
“But your dad was in love with your mom for years. Was he even gay?”
“It sounds like it. I guess it runs in the family.”
George snorts. “Clearly.”
“Look who’s talking. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you going to a certain Quidditch player’s games almost every weekend.”
George’s jaw drops. “You know about Oliver?”
“I didn’t know for sure, but you never went to so many Puddlemere United games before. Are you and Oliver together?”
“Not yet, but I think he likes me.”
“That’s great.”
“Yeah, yeah, enough about me. I want to know more about your dad and Regulus.”
Harry rolls his eyes but turns to the next page.
September 26, 1978
Do you want to stargaze with me in the Astronomy Tower tonight
No.
Come on, Reg. It’ll be fun
I do not want to. Leave me alone. Stop passing notes in class.
Please
If I say yes will you leave me alone?
Yes
Then, yes, I would love to join you in the Astronomy Tower tonight.
Great! It’s a date
It is not a date. We are hanging out as friends.
If it’s not a date then you won’t mind me telling Sirius about it
You better not!
Why not? Because it’s a date and he’ll be upset?
Come on, Reg, answer me
Fuck off
“You were right,” Harry says. “My dad was definitely into guys.
October 30, 1978
Gryffindor is throwing a Halloween party if you and your friends want to join
—
October 30, 1978
We cannot. It will be too suspicious.
—
October 30, 1978
But Marlene and Dorcas are dating now. It won’t be that suspicious will it? We don’t even have to interact. I just want to see you.
—
October 30, 1978
Any proximity to Gryffindors will be suspicious. As far as anyone knows, I am still the Black heir who spent the summer with Barty. We cannot give anyone a reason to look further into it. If my mom contacts Barty’s dad and finds out it is not true we will both be dead.
—
October 30, 1978
I understand. I just miss you. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.
—
October 30, 1978
I warned you what dating me would be like. It is this or nothing. I know I am not worth the trouble, so I understand if you want to end things and date Lily or someone less bothersome.
—
October 30, 1978
Merlin, Reg, that’s not what I meant! I just meant that I can’t wait to hug or kiss you again. We need to sneak into the Room of Requirement soon. I miss the feeling of you in my arms and the smell of your shampoo. I miss everything about you, especially your laugh. You’re beautiful when you laugh, Reg.
—
October 30, 1978
You are such a sap. I will be in the Room of Requirement at midnight the day after Halloween. Have Remus use his Head Boy powers to sneak you in there.
—
Harry sighs sadly, relating to the pain, suffering, and longing his dad and Regulus went through. He and Draco weren’t officially together during school, but they still snuck around and wrote secret letters so Lucius wouldn’t find out. It isn’t easy to maintain a relationship during such conditions. Harry doesn’t understand how James and Regulus did it.
“Your dad was so romantic,” George comments. “Sadly, that gene skipped you.”
Harry smacks George’s arm.
October 30, 1978
Sirius just gifted Remus a camera. I’m learning a spell now to make it take automatic pictures. We’ll have to test it out.
__
November 22, 1978
I wanted to tell you this in person, but once I realized, I’ve been bursting to tell you. I don’t know when we’ll see each other face-to-face, so here I go… I love you, Regulus Black. I’ll never love another like I love you. You are my entire world. You are my sun, my star, my life. I can’t imagine living the rest of my life without you.
—
November 23, 1978
I hate you. How dare you send me that and not expect me to cry in the middle of the Great Hall? Barty and Evan have been mocking me mercilessly! I love you, too. I cannot wait for us to be together again. Your touch is like magic. It makes all the bad and worry melt away, at least for a time. I am never more at peace than when your arms are around me.
“Why does this feel like the beginning of a tragedy?” George asks.
“Because it is.” Harry is scared to turn the page. There are so few letters left. “We already know how it ends.”
“I don’t think I want to continue,” George says. “We’ve experienced enough pain and loss. Do we want to experience it second hand?”
“Yes.” Harry closes his eyes, preparing for what will come at the end of these letters. “I’ve never felt so close to my dad. We’ve both experienced star-crossed love. I think he would be happy that I’ve found his story, and that I accidentally lived it too, this time with a happy ending.”
“I think Regulus would be glad that someone knows he’s not what everyone thought he was. We should show these to Sirius when we’re done, just in case he never knew about them. He deserves to read it too. It’s his brother.”
“I agree. Remus too. James was his best friend, too. James watched Sirius and Remus fall in love. It’s only fair Remus gets to witness this.”
“Regulus said Remus knew about them,” George points out.
“He might have known, but I doubt he got to see the depth of their love. This much devotion deserves to be shared with the world.”
December 15, 1978
Are you coming home with us? Sirius wants to know if he should give you his present before we leave or save it for Christmas day. I’ll meet you in the Room of Requirement either way tonight.
—
December 15, 1978
I cannot. Barty is not going home. Since my parents think I am staying with him, I have to stay here to keep the ruse up.
—
December 15, 1978
That’s odd. Evan told me that he was spending Christmas break at Barty’s house with you both. When did plans change?
—
December 15, 1978
We decided today that it would be easier to stay at school. I hope you have a nice Christmas. I love you.
Harry's heart races with anticipation and trepidation as the letters dwindle, drawing closer to the inevitable end to James and Regulus' relationship. So much can happen in so few words. Sensing Harry's unease, George intertwines their fingers, a silent show of support. Harry squeezes George's hand in thanks and flips to the next letter.
February 5, 1979
Reg, where have you been? I’ve waited every weekend for you to show up at the Room of Requirement. Did I do something? Are you mad at me? Please just talk to me. I’ll do anything to fix this. Please, Reg, please.
—
February 28, 1979
Please, I love you. Just talk to me.
—
March 18, 1979
It’s been months since we’ve talked, Reg. I know you’re done with me. I know I messed up somehow, but I want you to know that I still love you. I always will. I’m here if you ever want to talk.
—
March 27, 1979
I saw you with her. Lily. You said you would always love me. It was a lie. Fuck you, James Potter.
—
March 29, 1979
I said I would always love you, not that I would waste away my life waiting for you. You’ve ignored me for three months without so much as a word. I’ll always love you, but I’m done with you. You don’t treat someone you love like this. Lily is a wonderful woman who I can have a happy life with. I hope you find the same.
—
April 1, 1979
James, please do not do this. You do not understand. I can explain. Please do not leave me! I love you.
—
April 1, 1979
Meet me in the Room of Requirement at midnight in three days.
“What happened?” George asks. “Why did he stop writing?”
“He became a Death Eater,” Harry guesses. “He lied when he said he wasn’t going home for Christmas. He became a Death Eater instead of staying at Hogwarts..”
A tear slips down George’s cheek. “Why? Why would he do that? He got away from all of that. He fell in love. He repaired his relationship with Sirius. Why ruin it all?”
“I can only imagine why.” Harry’s heart is so heavy. This could have been him and Draco had they gotten together during the war. Draco became a Death Eater unwillingly and switched sides when it mattered. Regulus did the opposite. He switched sides and then went back. Why?
May 20, 1979
It’s been weeks, and I still can’t believe you. How could you do this? How could you return to them? After everything I did for you. After everything Sirius did for you! You didn’t just break my heart, you shattered his. I loved you, Regulus Black, and now all that is left in my heart is resentment and loathing. I will kill you if I ever see you again. Fuck you, and stay away from us, all of us. You chose your side, and you’re stuck there. You lost the only people who had your back undoubtedly. If I come across you during the coming war… I will not hesitate. Remember that.
—
May 25, 1979
You do not understand. We had no choice. Our parents and the Dark Lord threatened our loved ones. My mom found out about you somehow. She sent me a letter, ordering me to come home and take the Dark Mark or she would kill you. So, I did it over Christmas. I did it to protect you, Sirius, and Remus.
P.S. Since you are so determined to cut out anyone who is affiliated with the Death Eaters… I suggest looking into where Pettigrew goes every Saturday night. Ask him how long he has known about my mark.
—
May 27, 1979
Fuck you, Black. I should be asking you how long you’ve known Peter has been a Death Eater. Stop with the bullshit of “protecting” anyone. You know we can protect ourselves. My parents are also on our side. There was no need for you to succumb to your mother’s orders and run back to Voldemort with your tail between your legs.
I’m sending back your letters that I kept in hopes that you reread them and regret your actions. It’s not like I want the memories anymore. Look at what we had, Reg. Do you see what you threw away when you took that mark? I thought we were forever, but I can see now that you never planned for that.
Goodbye, Reg.
That solves the mystery of how Regulus has both his and James’ letters. Taped to the back of the parchment is a moving wizard picture of Regulus and James, who are lying on their backs amongst rumpled sheets, kissing softly. Regulus is wearing James’ Quidditch jersey and James is wearing Regulus’. Huge smiles cross their faces when they pull away and just take the other in. Their love is palpable.
Tears flow down Harry’s cheeks and plop onto the parchment. George gently pries Harry’s shaking fingers off and saves the letters. “If only they had talked to each other,” Harry gasps. “They might still be together and alive if they had.”
“Yeah, but then we wouldn’t have you,” George slings an arm over Harry’s shoulders and pulls him into a side hug. “Regulus may have been your dad’s first love, but losing him paved the way for your mom and dad’s love and your life.” He untapes the picture and hands it to Harry. “I’m sure they both would have wanted you to have this.”
“Thanks,” Harry whispers and tucks the picture against his chest. “There’s one more,” he states, not making an effort to read it. He can’t. His body is numb. Ever since he was eleven, people have told him about how perfect James and Lily were for each other and how much Harry resembles them. Now, doubt seeps into his mind. How could Lily have been the perfect match for James when Regulus existed?
From just one picture and a few letters, Harry feels the heat and passion of Regulus and James’ love. How could Harry’s mom have been “perfect” for James when Regulus existed? Were they ever truly happy together or did James settle for Lily or secretly hate her for not being who he truly loved?
The unanswered question will haunt Harry for the rest of his life.
“I’ll read it,” George says, offering his hand.
“Thanks,” Harry mumbles, handing over the parchment.
November 27, 1979
You are married and couldn't care less about me anymore, yet, a lingering sense of affection stops me from disappearing without a trace, knowing you will always wonder what became of me. Our lost future weighs heavily on my heart, James Potter.
I know you still love me, as I do you, so I must write this to tell you that I regret my choices. I am stricken with remorse each night as I lay alone, yearning for the solace of your embrace.
However, we both know your life with Lily far surpasses any future we could have shared. I was never a forever option. We both knew it deep down. This was always going to be our ending.
However, knowing this was meant to be doesn't make missing you any easier. My chest aches at the mere thought of you because I love you with every fiber of my being. I cannot live with this unbearable agony anymore.
I made a mistake years ago and it is time I atoned for it in the only way I know how. It has been a long time since I aligned myself with the Dark Lord's ideology, especially after you showed me the light and saved me. Barty and Evan share this sentiment, still eternally grateful for the safety you provided in dark times, though their allegiance is not as steadfast as mine.
They only ran last time because I could offer them protection. Since I could not do the same the second time they chose safety over morals, and so did I. However, I have regretted the decision since I made it.
I found a way to make this better, not fix it, but do the best I can.
I overheard something, something that could turn the tide of the war. It is dangerous to discuss it, even in writing, which is why I have decided to leave immediately, fully aware that I may never return. I hereby renounce Voldemort and everything he stands for, taking a stand against his atrocities and making a better future for your family.
Although, I am doing this mission because it is perilous and may kill me - because I am too much of a coward to do it myself - I want you to know that it was you who inspired me to take this step, to leave behind what I have always known and for once fight for what I believe in.
I only wish I had come to this conclusion before I lost the greatest love this world will ever know.
I plan to tell you this in person (If I survive, I'm going to your house and groveling until you no longer resent me, although I hold no hope that you will choose me over her, not anymore.) So Kreacher is instructed to only send this letter if I die, not disappear, not go into hiding, no, only death may part this letter from his hands. However, he still resents you for causing me heartbreak, so depending on how much of a grudge he still holds, he might ignore the order and never send the letter even if I die.
All my love,
R.A.B.
“It’s still here,” George mumbles. “Does this mean he’s not dead or Kreacher disobeyed him?”
“You’ve met Kreacher. It’s likely the latter. It’s poetic that Sirius wasn’t enough of a reason for Regulus to betray Voldemort, but his best friend was. Even though my dad never knew, Regulus gave his life for my dad’s cause.”
“Do you still want to show this to Remus and Sirius? It might be good for you all to process it together. This was a lot of information to take in at once.”
“Yeah,” Harry agrees. “I would like that.”
“Come on, then.” George forces himself to his feet and does a wobbly dance when the feeling of pins and needles morphs into fire ants invading his legs. They’ve been sitting for so long that his entire lower half is numb. “We can finish cleaning later. I’m sure Mom won’t mind once we explain why.”
“Thanks, George,”
“No problem, Harry.”
George splits off from Harry in the downstairs hallway. Harry walks toward the sound of Sirius' boisterous laughter in the sitting room and George sneaks outside. The overgrown garden isn't the same as the makeshift Quidditch pitch at the Burrow, but it works just as well for George's purpose. He sits on the damp earth and spends an hour or two telling Fred everything that happened that day, as he does every evening. Fred always hated to be left out of things. This is the least George can do.
…
Draco bumps into Harry on the stairs, unable to see over the stack of precariously balanced boxes stacked in his arms as he heads for their room. He loses his grip on the boxes, tilting backward on the stairs. Just as disaster seems imminent, Harry steps in, steadying Draco by wrapping his arm around his waist. "It's nice to see that you're still as clumsy as ever," Harry quips. "It reminds me of our Hogwarts days."
Draco scoffs. “It wasn’t me who constantly fell off my broom if my memory serves me right.”
“You’re mean.”
“Only because I love you.”
“I love you too. How was shopping?”
Draco scowls, his displeasure apparent. “I am never, never do you hear me, shopping with Sirius again. I know he’s your godfather, but he's awful, Harry! It took me and Remus combined to drag him away from everything in every store! I don’t understand how he can have so much money left with his frivolous spending habits.”
A sappy smile curls the corners of Harry's lips. It's a welcomed change to see Draco upset over silly matters rather than being consumed by the emotional turmoil he went through during the first few years following the war. "That reminds me, I have something to show Remus and Sirius." His fingers involuntarily flex around the letters, crinkling the edges, as a surge of possessiveness runs through him. Part of him wants to gatekeep Regulus and James' story, but he knows it deserves to be told. A love like theirs should never be hidden, for it shines too brightly to be locked in the dark.
Draco eyes the letters, curiosity piqued, and tries to read the contents, prompting Harry to shield them from his prying eyes. George read them with Harry, but the choice to reveal them to anyone else rests solely in Sirius' hands. Everything in this house was passed down to him, and then on to Harry - meaning the letters are technically Harry's property and he can do what he wants with them - but Harry still considers Sirius to be the head of the house.
“Give me a moment to drop these off in our room and I’ll join you,” Draco offers, having missed his fiance all day. They haven’t seen much of each other lately due to wedding planning and house cleaning.
Harry shakes his head. “Thank you, but no. This is something I need to discuss with Remus and Siriu in private. I’ll come to see when we’re done, though.” He pecks Draco’s lips before squeezing his arm since his hands are occupied.
Draco narrows his eyes in suspicion but nods. “Alright. I’ll see you later.”
“See you. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Sirius is relaxing in the living room and Remus, Molly, and Ron are preparing lunch when Harry makes it downstairs. He goes to Remus first, knowing he'll need his help to convince Sirius to abandon the comfort of his favorite armchair.
“Can I talk to you and Sirius about something?” Harry asks as he leans against the counter next to Remus.
Ron eyes them both but dutifully chops carrots as if he’s not listening to every word, assuming Harry will fill him in on the rest later.
Remus dries his hands on a dish towel before answering. “Now? Or can it wait?”
Harry shrugs. “It’s not an emergency, but I found something I think you two should see.”
“I’ve got this,” Ron says as he scrapes his diced carrots into a bowl and takes over washing the fruit Remus was half finished with. “You three go talk. I can manage dinner this once.”
“You do remember what happened the last time you tried to cook alone, don’t you?” Remus asks drily.
Ron’s face burns. “Yes,” he admits, "but I’ve learned. Ginny has been giving me lessons.”
“Fine,” Remus agrees, “but Molly will be on damage control if you mess up.”
As Harry predicted, Sirius doesn't want to give up his armchair when they approach him. After five minutes of begging, bribing, and threatening, Harry brings out the big guns. With no one else in the living room, either still cleaning or in the kitchen, Harry holds up the letters. "These are letters between my dad and your brother. I thought you two would like to read them. If not, you should at least be in charge of what happens to them them."
Sirius’ eyes widen and all traces of lethargy evaporate. He reaches for the letters reverently, running his fingers across the writing once Harry relinquishes them. “You’re serious?”
Harry bites back the reflexive No, you’re Sirius retort. Now is not the time. “Yes.”
“I didn’t know James and Regulus liked each other enough to write letters.”
“They more than liked each other,” Harry says, hoping Sirius picks up on his meaning.
Sirius' hair falls into his face as he draws his feet onto the armchair and presses his forehead against his knees. “They liked-liked each other?” His voice is thick with emotion, almost too difficult to understand.
“They loved each other.”
Remus settles a hand on Harry’s shoulder, using him to keep his balance after the shock of such a reveal. “I always thought something was going on between them, but James started dating Lily and I never thought about it again.”
"I knew Regulus had a crush, but I never thought it progressed more than that. Merlin, he was so obvious about how he felt when he lived with the Potters for a few summers," Sirius says, smiling against his knee.
“Those letters detail their relationship and what led to the tragic ending of it. I’ll leave you alone now to read them or burn them; whatever you decide.”
Sirius lifts his head, his teary eyes meeting Harry’s. “You don’t care if we destroy your dad’s letters?”
“He’s my dad, but you knew him better. I’ve read those letters once. I don’t think I can handle doing it again.”
Sirius takes Harry’s hand and squeezes it, anchoring himself. “Thank you for this, Harry. You could have destroyed or burned these without telling us.”
“Their story deserves to be known,” Harry responds, holding back his own tears.
Having regained his bearings, Remus holds out his hand to Sirius. “Come on, love. Let us read the letters together.”
Sirius takes Remus’ hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet and swept out of the room. Harry follows them up the stairs, stifling laughter as Sirius tries to spin Remus as they walk.
Draco is waiting for Harry in their room. He tugs Harry onto the bed and wraps his long limbs around Harry’s lithe body. “What happened with Sirius and Remus?”
“I don’t know if I can tell you, yet,” Harry admits. “But I want to someday.”
Draco tugs Harry closer, and whispers into his neck, “That’s okay. I love you,” as Harry cuddles Draco’s arm thrown over his waist.
Two weeks later, and after an insane amount of magic and preparation, Draco and Harry's wedding day is here. They both opted out of a traditional ceremony that would drag on for hours and asked Kingsley Shacklebolt to officiate. Kingsley does his job wonderfully, reciting a short but heartfelt speech, before leading Harry and Draco through their vows, culminating the ceremony with a tender kiss, stepping out of the way so he won't be in any of the wedding photos.
Draco grasps Harry's hand, gazing at their intertwined fingers showcasing their rings before locking eyes with his beloved. The words I love you softly escape his lips, evoking memories of a time when such a proclamation seemed unfathomable. Oh, how far they've come from the kids who were unwillingly on opposite sides of a war.
As Harry holds onto Draco and stares into his eyes, he whispers, “This is you for, James and Regulus.”
“What did you say?” Draco asks, leaning forward slightly.
“Nothing,” Harry says. The moment was between him and his fathers.
He places a hand on Draco’s cheek and draws him in for a soft kiss. Amongst the cheers of their friends and family, Harry raises his eyes to the sky, knowing James and Regulus are smiling down at him and Draco, wishing them the happy ending they never had.