Chapter Text
James needed a fucking break.
There he stood, at the crack of dawn, broomstick in hand, on the edge of the Quidditch pitch. The one he’d gone to painstaking lengths to book. The first matches of the season were rapidly approaching and all four teams had been fighting tooth and nail to gain access to the pitch for the past few days now. This particular Saturday was exactly a week away from Gryffindor’s match against Hufflepuff, which also happened to be the first of the season.
James had had his doubts about his team’s ability and willingness to show up on time, so he’d told them practice began one hour later than the time he’d booked the pitch for. His original plan had been to warm up and go over strategies alone while he waited for his teammates to show up.
He’d never been much of a morning person, and preferred to sleep in whenever he could. But this was his first match as captain, and James was more determined than ever to make sure to win the cup this year. Quidditch was probably the only thing that could force him to roll out of bed so early.
The castle had been so quiet it felt completely deserted when James got dressed and made his way to the pitch.
One can therefore understand his annoyance and disbelief when James arrived, shoulders square, only to find the pitch occupied. He squinted against the rain that had begun to come down in a steady drizzle, trying to make out who it was. Maybe it was the Hufflepuffs, and this was all some sort of misunderstanding. That he could deal with. Small mishaps surrounding Quidditch pitch reservations happened every now and then, and Hufflepuffs tended to be quite reasonable about these things.
James stepped gingerly forward, closer to the three figures tossing a quaffle back and forth, and was just about to yell out to get their attention, when the one who’d been flying the closest to where James was viciously swung his bat against a bludger James had been completely unaware of, sending it hurtling in James’s direction.
James yelped and ducked out of the way, properly indignant now.
“Oi!” He bellowed, voice ringing across the pitch. He gestured angrily for the three to come down, all thoughts of pleasantly negotiating the situation gone out the window. It was only when they began drifting lazily toward him that James recognized them.
James tipped his head back and squeezed his eyes shut.
Of course. Who else?
Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch Jr, and Regulus Black. They were a practically inseparable trio in the year below James, who one random morning at the beginning of term, had apparently begun to hold some sort of personal vendetta against James.
James glared at the familiar faces that now stood in front of him.
Evan Rosier was grinning widely, bat hanging loosely from one hand and holding onto his broomstick with the other. His shock of blonde hair was damp, darker and messier than usual. To his right, Barty Crouch tossed the quaffle up and down with one hand, chatting with Rosier without sparing James a glance.
James fixed his reproachful gaze on the last and most bewildering member of the group. Regulus Black, his best friend’s younger brother. Funnily enough, James hadn’t even known Sirius had a sibling until they were in their third year. Regulus had just made it onto the Slytherin Quidditch team, and James had been startled to find someone who shared Sirius’s name, who also bore a mild resemblance to him. Upon being questioned about it, Sirius had offhandedly told James that Regulus was his brother and quickly changed the subject, clearly not wanting to talk about it further.
That was that. James hadn’t been keen to push his friend on the subject of his family that made him very obviously uncomfortable, and since they were in different years and different houses, it was easy to forget the existence of his best friend’s little brother. The only time James ever considered Regulus was whenever he had a match against Slytherin, and even then, James was a chaser and Regulus a seeker, meaning they had almost no reason to come into contact at all.
Then, a few weeks ago, James began taking notice. He didn’t have much choice in the matter. It wasn’t that anything happened, not really. No, it was more that all of a sudden, for no apparent reason, the three of them were everywhere . And somehow, whenever they were around, something would happen that greatly inconvenienced, humiliated, or irritated James. At first, James thought nothing of it. But after the umpteenth time he tripped over his own feet in the middle of the hallway only to lock eyes with Regulus standing at the far end, dark eyes glittering, James began to grow suspicious.
Over the course of the past few weeks, James had grown to thoroughly dislike Regulus Black. He had no solid proof that it was Regulus that was making these things happen. It was entirely possible that he’d simply always been in the right place at the right time. But there was something about the way he looked at James, taunting and wicked, face impassive but eyes laughing, that made James’s blood boil.
“Black,” James spoke first, fighting to keep his voice steady. Regulus peered at James, infuriatingly silent even after being addressed. He arched a perfect eyebrow instead, as if to say, go on .
“I had the pitch booked for six this morning.”
Crouch and Rosier exchanged false baffled looks. Crouch even dramatically let the quaffle fall to the ground in mock surprise.
“You don’t say!” Crouch turned his wide eyes to face Rosier. “Evan, did you know Potter had the pitch booked for six?”
“Not a clue,” Rosier replied blankly. “Regulus?”
“I’m afraid not,” Regulus answered stoically. “Are you sure you didn’t get the dates confused? You see, it’s the day that comes first, then the month, not the other way around.”
“I’m not stupid,” James said through gritted teeth.
“No?” Regulus fixed James with a deadpan look. “Could have fooled me.”
“Look, I don’t know what you have against me, but I booked the pitch. It’s mine for two hours, and I have a match next week, so kindly fuck off.”
“Since when do you care so much about the rules?” Rosier laughed sharply.
“No, no, he just doesn’t like it when they apply to him , remember?” Crouch reminded him.
“I don’t have time for this,” sighed James. “Get off my pitch, or I’ll-”
Regulus cocked his head to the side and took a challenging step forward. For all the years James had vaguely known of him, this was the closest they’d ever stood and the longest they’d ever spoken. James was momentarily distracted by how similar yet different the Black brothers were in appearance and demeanor.
“Or you’ll what?”
That was when the unthinkable happened.
James was unable to respond. His mind was blank, empty. He couldn’t think of a single good retort to save his life. The silence was palpable as James desperately searched his suddenly useless brain. It was broken when Rosier and Crouch began to laugh. Even Regulus cracked a smile, apparently amused that he’d managed to fluster James.
“You don’t even have a match next week,” James snapped, scrambling to recover. Now was not the time to notice how Regulus was slightly shorter than Sirius, similarly built, but had eyes that were a much lighter shade of grey to the point they almost seemed transparent.
“So?” Regulus shrugged.
“And you two aren’t even on the teams!” James glowered at the other two, whose laughter had faded into identical infuriating smirks.
“They’re helping me practice,” Regulus answered stubbornly. He impatiently reached up to push a strand of dark hair out of his eyes. On his right hand, he wore just one ring; a signet ring on his pinky. Did that mean he was left handed?
“None of that means anything to me! I have the pitch for the next two hours, so I’m telling you to piss off.”
“Hey, we were just leaving. No need to get your knickers in a twist,” Crouch rolled his eyes.
“And you,” James rounded on Rosier. “You know you almost hit me with that bludger? You could have gotten me seriously hurt!”
Rosier simply shrugged.
“Like you pointed out, Potter, I’m not on the team, so I’m slightly rusty. I missed, what can I say?”
James paused.
“What were you aiming for?”
“Who do you think?”
“You-”
“James?”
At the mention of his name from a familiar voice behind him, James cut himself off in the middle of his sentence and turned around. It was Marlene, yawning and running a hand through her mess of hair but decked out in Quidditch gear and ready for practice. Once she was close enough to see who James had been talking to, she raised her eyebrows and glanced to James for answers.
“What’s going on?”
“They were just leaving,” James explained. “ Right ?”
Regulus paused, and James thought for a maddening second that he would refuse and that James would have to drag him kicking and screaming off the pitch himself. Not that Regulus would ever be the type to kick and scream. It was an expression. Whatever.
“Right,” Regulus conceded eventually, much to James’s surprise. The three of them began to leave, not bothering to tidy up after themselves, when Regulus turned and shot James a grim smile over his shoulder that looked more like a grimace. “See you around, Potter.”
“Not if I can help it,” James muttered. Regulus’s smile was almost identical to what Sirius’s had looked like in their first year or so when James got to know him for the first time. It was uncanny. James kept watching the three of them make their way back to the castle, making sure they were truly gone before turning back to Marlene.
“What are you doing here so early? I told you practice was at seven.”
“Yeah, but I saw the pitch was booked for six and figured I might as well warm up with you,” she was still yawning every three seconds, but James was touched.
“Come on, then,” he grinned, pushing what had happened with Regulus and his friends to the back of his mind. “Let’s start with a few laps around the pitch.”
***
Regulus watched from afar as two tiny figures ran around the field. The sun had started to come up by the time he and his friends had made it back to the castle, and they’d been on their way to breakfast when Regulus caught a glimpse of the Quidditch field through one of the large windows that lined the particular hallway they were walking through.
He’d slowed down, allowing his friends to amble ahead, and recalled their earlier encounter. An unpleasant sensation that Regulus couldn’t quite place unfurled in his stomach, making his lip curl. He tore his eyes away, a bad taste in his mouth.
“Reg, come on,” Evan called, looking back at Regulus. His gaze flickered from Regulus to the window, a knowing look dawning on his face. He smirked, wandering back to where Regulus stood and swinging an arm over Regulus’s hunched shoulders. “We’ll get him next time, don’t worry.”
Regulus shrugged Evan off, scowling.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I couldn’t care less about him,” Regulus paused. “And don’t call me that.”
By this time, Barty had caught on and joined Regulus and Evan. He positioned himself on the other side of Regulus so that Regulus was caught between his friends, both of whom were giving Regulus identical looks glittering with mirth.
“You forced us to get up at the crack of dawn and dragged us all the way down to the pitch in the rain just to mess with him. I don’t know what that means in your strange world, but in mine, we call that caring,” Barty served the first blow.
Regulus rolled his eyes and pushed forward, unwilling to give in.
“Come on, we’re more than happy to help you out but we just want to know what he did to offend you so much. Sharing is caring!” Evan continued, diligently keeping up with Regulus so that he was still sandwiched between his persistent friends.
“Did he insult your hair?” Barty reached across to ruffle Regulus’s hair, ignoring his sound of protest.
“Your accent?” Evan was grinning now, clearly enjoying this.
“Your shoes?”
“What’s wrong with my shoes?” Regulus demanded, glancing down.
“Oh, nothing,” Barty paused. “So did he insult your shoes?”
“ No ,” Regulus shook his head.
“Ooh, my turn! It’s his hair you don’t like,” Evan gasped dramatically, looking rather proud of himself. Regulus ignored him and focused on walking.
They’d made it inside the Great Hall now, and they were walking over to the Slytherin table. The place was mostly empty, and the few students that were already there glowered at the three as Barty and Evan continued to loudly pester Regulus, throwing random and steadily more absurd guesses.
“No, it’s his clothes.”
“And his glasses. It has to be his glasses.”
“Alright, fine! It’s his glasses. Happy?” Regulus barked, sliding into his seat.
“I knew it!” Barty crowed.
“No, it’s not,” Evan scrutinised Regulus with his piercing gaze, studying him carefully. “He’s just saying it is to get us off his back.”
“Oh,” Barty fell silent for a moment and Regulus hoped they’d leave it alone. Until then, every time he’d fended them off for a decent amount of time, they’d given up on getting the truth from him. But apparently today, neither of his friends were willing to take no for an answer.
“Alright, I have another one. You don’t like Potter because he’s disgustingly close friends with Siri-”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, would you just drop it?” Regulus stood up abruptly, slamming his palms down on the table. It seemed as though the entire Great Hall had fallen silent at his outburst. Evan shot Barty a look, but Regulus didn’t care. He roughly pushed back his chair and strode away, his face hot.
He could hear Evan calling after him, and Barty yelling at him to wait, but he pretended he was already out of earshot. He couldn’t do this right now.
Regulus knew it was unfair to his friends not to be honest with them, but Regulus couldn’t very well tell them the truth. It would make him seem small and petty, and they wouldn't get it.
As he made his way back down to his dorm, Regulus thought back to the beginning of the school year, all the way back in early September.
It had only been a few days since class started, but Regulus had already begun to regularly visit the library to keep up with his work. He would never admit it, but he'd secretly been hoping that this was the year he finally beat out Barty, the smart bastard. His parents were counting on him to be the best, even more so now that Sirius was now officially a lost cause in his mother’s eyes. Regulus had to step up, and he was determined to make his parents proud.
Regulus had been wandering through the stacks, looking for a book that he could use to do some background reading, when he’d rather unceremoniously stumbled across two people making out furiously pushed up against the bookcases. If it had been any other day, Regulus would have rolled his eyes and silently walked away, turning his nose up at the improper behaviour but keeping his disapproval to himself. But the book he needed had been there, and Regulus had felt a surge of annoyance that they’d picked this particular aisle. So he'd cleared his throat pointedly, making the two jump apart.
Regulus had slowly taken in the Gryffindor tie, the messy black hair, the glasses that lay crooked on the nose, and immediately recognized one of the two parties. He'd had no idea who the girl was, but he would have known the boy anywhere. It was his brother’s best friend, the loud, boisterous one who strutted around as though he was the best, most interesting person in every room he walked in.
“Potter,” Regulus had scowled. It had been his first time ever actually speaking to him. “Would you kindly get out of the way?”
James Potter had blinked his brown eyes in Regulus’s direction, visibly confused. The look had passed quickly, and a leisurely yet sheepish grin took its place.
“Sorry, do you know me?”
Regulus had stared at the boy in disbelief. They’d attended the same school for three years now. They’d played multiple matches against one another for Quidditch. And for fuck’s sake, Regulus was his best friend’s brother . The two were so close they were practically joined at the hip, and yet James hadn't recognized Regulus, Sirius’s brother.
Regulus had felt a sharp ache in his chest. Had Sirius never even mentioned to James that he had a brother? Was that why James had been regarding him with a mildly pleasant expression on his face as the girl quickly smoothed her hair down and hurried away with a muttered apology?
“I- no. Just move,” Regulus had said eventually, bluntly pushing past to get the book he needed, but he could barely read the titles to find the right one. He'd been able to hear his blood roaring in his ears, and had to fight to keep his hand steady as he reached out, grabbed a book at random, and shoved back past James, who still obviously had no clue what was going on. Just as he'd been about to leave, James had called after him.
“Hey, wait! You know my name but I don’t know yours. Care to enlighten me?”
Regulus had shot James the most vicious, withering glare he could muster. No, he would not bloody well care to enlighten him. Without answering him, Regulus had left the library in such a hurry that he almost brought the book with him without checking it out.
From that day forth, it was like there was a giant red beacon floating above James’s head whenever he happened to be in vague proximity to Regulus. And it was after that encounter that Regulus’s stomach twisted whenever he saw James’s stupid face, which was almost always laughing with his stupid brother and their stupid friends.
Regulus muttered the password to enter the Slytherin common room and made a beeline for his favourite armchair, immediately throwing himself down onto it and slinging his legs over the armest. How was he supposed to explain to his friends that his thorough dislike for Potter began when he hadn’t recognized him? It was pathetic. Regulus felt like crawling into a hole and dying just thinking about it.
Regulus groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. He still had a few hours left until his first class of the day. He’d gotten up at five in the morning just to make sure he got down to the pitch before Potter did, and he’d crawled into bed at two in the morning the previous night because he’d been busy catching up on assignments. He was exhausted, and decided he should snatch a few more hours of sleep when he had the chance.
He drifted off to sleep quickly, his dreams plagued by the echoes of Sirius and James’s laughter ringing in his ears.
***
James managed to get over the scuffle of the morning fairly quickly. Practice had gone swimmingly, to the point where he had little to no doubt that they would win the match next week. Most of his prior annoyance had faded to the back of his mind, and he was only reminded of the ordeal when he met with his friends for a late breakfast in the Great Hall.
Collapsing into the seat beside Sirius and casually stealing his pumpkin juice, James wondered whether he should mention the encounter to Sirius. But then again, Sirius hated to talk about his family, and Regulus had been acknowledged a grand total of two times by Sirius in all the years James had known him. He didn’t know what had happened between the estranged brothers, but he didn’t much fancy getting in the middle of it all.
So he bit his tongue and pushed it to the back of his mind. Whatever Regulus had against James and whatever made James’s gut react so strongly whenever they interacted, James figured it was between the two of them. No need to involve Sirius.
Later that day, James was barrelling through the school. He had two classes back to back that were on opposite ends of the school, and usually he could make it on time at a brisk walk. Besides, he didn’t mind being a few minutes late, so he’d never had reason to sprint at top speed before. But his previous class had run late and he’d already been tardy so many times to the next one that he’d been threatened by the professor that if he was late one more time, she’d sentence him to detention on Saturday morning, which also happened to be at the exact time James had his important Quidditch match. He could not afford to be late at any cost.
Cursing his past air of indifference surrounding punctuality that had led to this situation in the first place, James burst through the doors of the classroom and shot through the hallways, zipping side to side as he ran.
“Sorry, coming through!” he bellowed, skidding around corners and narrowly avoiding sending a first year flying. He was almost there, and he had a minute to spare. He was going to make it; James could see the classroom at the end of the hall.
He redoubled his efforts, tearing through the corridor, feet echoing loudly as students jumped left and right to get out of his way. By this point, James had his eyes fixed on the door, honing in, and nothing else was in his line of vision.
Then, with an almighty crash, he ran smack dab into someone, who let out a grunt as a stack of parchment fell out of their hands and dramatically fluttered around them.
“ Merlin ,” James gasped, scrambling to his feet; he’d fallen hard on his backside from the collision, and his tailbone was screaming, but he had no time. “Sorry, sorry-”
James stumbled forward, accidentally trampling on a few pieces of parchment as he did so. He hopped up and down, trying to make his way through without doing any more damage, and was about to throw another apology over his shoulder before ducking into the classroom, when someone grabbed him by the bag he had slung over his shoulders and yanked him back abruptly.
James twisted around indignantly, attempting to shake free, when he finally caught sight of who it was that he’d smashed into. Dark hair, pale skin, light eyes, brows drawn together in a frown.
Oh, shit.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Regulus demanded, voice dangerously low. He wasn’t looking at James, he was glaring at something near the floor. James ducked his head to see what it was that had offended Regulus so much, only to find parchment stuck to the bottom of his shoe. James laughed nervously, eyes darting back and forth between the classroom and Regulus.
James bent down and peeled the parchment free, heart sinking as he realised it had torn right in half. He extended his hand to give it back to Regulus, whose face had turned downright murderous.
“Look, I’m really sorry, alright, but I have to get to class. Right now ,” James was practically hopping from foot to foot in his haste.
Regulus didn’t reply. James tried to leave, but Regulus had the strap of his bag in his vice-like grip and he was startlingly strong.
“Do you really have such little regard for other people that you would knock someone over, barely apologize, and leave them to pick up their belongings that you made them drop?” Regulus was ranting, but James was hardly listening. Time was almost up, he had to go. James made the split second decision to twist out of his bag and leave it there with Regulus, making a break for the doors and leaving Regulus standing there alone with James’s bag in his hand, parchment still littered haphazardly everywhere. He could vaguely hear Regulus furiously demanding that he get back there this instant, but James was on a mission.
He finally opened the doors and ducked into the classroom, only to find the professor standing sternly right behind the doors. James opened his mouth to defend himself. He’d made it on time, he was sure he had, and if Regulus hadn’t held him up, he would have been there with time to spare.
“You’re late, Mr. Potter. Detention, Saturday morning at ten. No excuses.”
“But professor-”
“That will be final.”
“But Quidditch -”
“But nothing. Please take your seat.”
James stood there, mouth agape. This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t make him, the captain, sit out. They’d be short a chaser. Practice had gone so well, except for Regulus. This match was supposed to be the easiest of the season. They would have won, no problem. Except for Regulus. Regulus . The root of all his problems that day.
James could feel his face growing hot. Ignoring everyone staring at him and his professor ordering him to sit down, James turned around and walked right back out the doors.
He found Regulus crouching in the corridor, muttering furiously under his breath as he gathered his belongings. James’s bag had been quite obviously hurled across the corridor in a fit of fury, and it lay crumpled against the wall on the far end.
James strode up to Regulus, who looked up when he heard footsteps approaching.
“What is your problem?” James’s voice crept up until it was almost a yell at the end of the sentence. Regulus barked out an incredulous laugh.
“ Me ? What’s my problem? Do you hear yourself?” Regulus rose to his feet. He gathered the parchment he’d picked up and threw them all in James’s face, causing James to jerk back angrily.
“Yes, you,” James was shouting now. “I don’t know what I ever did to you to make you hate me so much-”
James thought he caught Regulus flinching, but he was on a roll now.
“But even you have to admit, this is a bit much. Showing up at the crack of dawn at the pitch just to annoy me wasn’t enough? Thanks to you, I can’t play the match this Saturday, so congratulations, you got what you wanted, huh?”
Regulus rolled his eyes.
“What do you mean, you can’t play the match? How is that my fault?”
“You made me late! I told you I have to go, but you wouldn’t let me leave, and now I have detention during the match.”
Regulus laughed again, a cruel, harsh sound that came from the back of his throat. Something in his face had changed, and he took a menacing step forward. Despite James being a little taller and his confidence that he could take Regulus in a fight if it came down to it, the sheer ferociousness in his face made James falter.
“If you hadn’t been running like a maniac, none of this would have happened. Literally anyone else in the world would have been at least the slightest bit apologetic for knocking someone over. But no, you’re James Potter , the Quidditch captain . The entire world has to stop and step out of your majesty’s way because everything is about you! Never mind the fact that you ruined my notes, which I have an exam for tomorrow. No, none of that matters, at least not to you. Everything is about you and Quidditch and your stupid group of friends who think it’s funny to make everyone else’s lives difficult with your little pranks , because as long as it’s amusing to you, it’s worth it! Make this about me all you want, but just know that no one at Hogwarts except for the people in your inner circle likes you. It’s not just me that has an issue with you, and if you can’t wrap your oversized head around that, you need to take a step back and take a good, long look at your life because there is no way you’re that dense.”
James opened his mouth, then closed it again. He felt like he’d been hit on the head by something hard and heavy. Regulus had taken steady steps closer to James as he spoke, and now the two of them stood almost nose-to-nose. Regulus was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling rapidly. He glared up at James as if daring him to protest.
“I-” James paused and turned his head to avert his gaze. He ran an exasperated hand through his hair. Regardless of his irritation at the situation, and no matter how many times Regulus had been the one at fault in their last few interactions, James knew he couldn’t blame Regulus for this one. Anyone could see that right then, he was the dick. He looked back at Regulus.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Regulus blinked, all traces of anger melting away for a split second. For the briefest moment, James caught sight of Regulus with his guard down, mouth slightly open in surprise. It was such a stark contrast from the Regulus that James was used to that James couldn’t help but stare.
James had assumed that Regulus without his constantly guarded expression and glaring eyes would look similar to Sirius. They bore enough family resemblance to where it was plausible that Regulus would simply appear to be a younger version of Sirius, just more serious and with shorter hair.
But that wasn’t the case at all.
Regulus was entirely different to Sirius, and it was only then that something in James’s brain finally clicked and Regulus was no longer an extension of Sirius, but completely his own person. Before James could commit this new version of Regulus to memory so that he could mull it over later, however, Regulus abruptly drew the curtains, and he was back to scowling again.
Regulus stepped back slightly, crossing his arms.
“You should be,” he said suspiciously, as if he thought there was some sort of catch he should be wary of. James almost laughed at the idea. He could be a bit of a prick, yes, but he wasn’t as awful as Regulus seemed to have pegged him for. It made James wonder how horrible his first impression had been on Regulus for him to be so angry.
But that day wasn’t the right day to pry. This was when James had to admit defeat and take a step back, as Regulus had suggested. James bent down and set about picking up all the parchment that covered the floor. Regulus remained silent as James picked up the last of Regulus’s notes and held the stack out to him. Regulus took it gingerly.
James walked over to his abandoned bag and dusted it off before slinging it back across his shoulders.
“Which class are those notes for?” James nodded at the parchment that Regulus held tightly in his hands.
“Why?”
“I could help you study. You know, since it’s my fault your notes got ruined.”
Regulus stared at James like he’d grown a second head. To be honest, James wasn’t sure why he was making the offer either. A week ago, if someone had told him that he’d be voluntarily offering to help Regulus study, he would have laughed in their face. But what Regulus had said to him in his angry outburst had struck a chord. James wanted to make things right.
“I highly doubt you could help me study,” Regulus sniffed.
Ah, there it was. The reason they’d never be friends, and the reason there was bad blood between them in the first place. James might have been a tad selfish at times unwittingly, but Regulus could be just as awful. To James at least, Regulus had been just as awful. The difference between them was that Regulus would never admit that.
“I’m trying to be nice. No need to insult my intelligence.”
“I’m not being insulting, I’m stating a fact. You’re horrible at potions, and I’m rather good, so why would I ever-”
“I get it, okay?” James’s foul mood had returned. “I’m sorry for earlier, let’s never speak again.”
“Works for me,” Regulus shot back nastily. As James was about to turn on his heel and leave, Regulus called after him one last time.
“Good luck on Saturday, Potter.”
James grinded his teeth together as he forced one foot in front of the other instead of retaliating. He wasn’t going to give Regulus the satisfaction. He could almost picture Regulus’s smug smirk even as he walked away with his back turned.
***
“What happened to you?” Evan stared at Regulus as he entered the common room. Regulus ignored the question, dumping the stack of jumbled up notes on one of the coffee tables to sort through later.
“What are you doing here?” Regulus asked Barty instead, who was stretched out across the entire length of the sofa. He used a disdainful foot to nudge him into making space. “Go hog the sofa in your own common room.”
“I thought I was an honorary Slytherin,” Barty slid his legs off the sofa so that Regulus could sit, propping himself up on one elbow. “I mean, I meet all the criteria.”
“I know I’m going to regret asking, but what criteria?”
Barty grinned widely and began checking things off on his fingers.
“Filthy rich, pureblood, doesn’t like Gryffindors, and daddy issues. Look at that, I’m four for four!”
Regulus grabbed a cushion and whacked it in Barty’s general direction, who just laughed.
“Kick him out, Evan,” Regulus turned to Evan, who shrugged and snickered along with his friend. “I have to study, I’m serious.”
“Not this again,” Barty groaned. He shifted around so that his head dangled near the floor and his legs dangled over the headrest. “I’ll let you copy off of me tomorrow, if that’ll get you to stop being so boring.”
Regulus pinched him hard, making him yelp and roll away so abruptly he landed in an ungraceful heap on the floor.
“What was that for?” Barty whined, gingerly picking himself up and perching on the arm of Evan’s chair so he was at a safe distance from Regulus.
“You know what it was for,” Regulus busied himself with digging through his bag to look for his potions textbook. “Not all of us have freakishly good memory, and we have to work for good marks.”
“Who cares about getting good marks?”
“I do. Now shut up.”
Barty grumbled something about Regulus not being any fun anymore under his breath but obliged more quickly than Regulus expected. Usually, they’d bicker for at least another ten minutes before Barty finally decided he’d had all his fun and left. Regulus wondered if Barty’s easy compliance had anything to do with Regulus walking out of breakfast in a bad mood that morning.
“Well, speaking of good marks, Regulus, don’t think you’re getting off so easily. What happened to you and your notes?” Evan spoke up. Regulus groaned. Of course Evan wasn’t so quick to let it go.
“Someone ran into me in the hall and made me drop everything. It’s not a big deal, alright?” Regulus explained briefly. They didn’t have to know the details. Regulus got the feeling they’d all had enough of James Potter for the day.
“I feel for the poor bastard who ran into you,” chuckled Barty. “You didn’t curse them out too badly, right, Reg?”
“Don’t call me that,” Regulus replied curtly. “And no, of course not. What kind of person do you take me for?”
“You mean Evan and I are the only ones you’re so mean to?” Barty clasped his hands to his chest, feigning hurt.
“Consider yourself lucky. It means you’re special,” Regulus cracked open the textbook casually.
“Does that mean Potter’s special too?” Evan commented, grunting when Barty dug an elbow into his side.
Regulus didn’t answer for a moment, an involuntary image of Potter from earlier popping into his head. He’d looked quite ridiculous at first, even scruffier than usual and in complete disarray due to his haste.
But when he’d come marching back out of the classroom barely a full minute after he’d gone inside was a completely different story. Regulus had never seen him so viscerally furious before, no matter how many times he’d tried to get a rise out of him for the past few weeks. Regulus supposed he should have known it was Quidditch that would eventually rile him up enough to tip him over the edge. Regardless, it had been a sight to see for sure. Gone was the silly grin and the naturally confident, almost egotistical manner in which Potter carried himself. His eyes had been sharp and narrow and darker than their usual hazel. Some people hunched over in their anger; Potter was the opposite in that he seemed to expand to his full stature, shoulders broader and a little taller because he was no longer slouching.
More than any of that, however, Regulus relished the fact that the endlessly good humoured James Potter, who managed to win over even most of the professors with a goofy smile and a kind word drenched in flattery, looked as if he quite genuinely wanted to throttle Regulus. It brought him a strange satisfaction that he couldn’t quite explain.
“I don’t know,” Regulus said finally, nearly forgetting that his friends were still in the room with him and answering honestly. “Maybe.”