Work Text:
The Potter cottage in Godric’s Hollow was eerily quiet, the only sound the crackle of the fireplace casting a warm glow over the cozy living room. James Potter sat on the worn sofa, bouncing Harry on his knee, while Lily leaned against the doorway, her arms crossed and a skeptical look on her face. Across from them, standing stiffly with his hands in his coat pockets, was Regulus Black.
“You’re sure about this?” Lily asked, her green eyes sharp as they studied the younger Black brother.
Regulus met her gaze, his expression calm but resolute. “You have my word,” he said. “No one will ever hear it from me. Not even my brother.”
James shifted slightly, the grin on his face masking the tension in his posture. “See, Lils? Told you he’d come through.”
“Did you?” Lily asked, raising an eyebrow. “Or did you just refuse to consider anyone else?”
Regulus’ lips twitched, though he didn’t quite smile. “I can leave, if you’ve changed your mind.”
James shot him a glare. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re the best choice for this, and you know it. Who’d suspect you of protecting a family of blood traitors and a Muggle-born? Half the Death Eaters think you’re still loyal, and the other half don’t even know you’re alive.”
“That’s comforting,” Regulus muttered dryly, but there was no malice in his tone. His eyes flicked to Lily. “I understand your doubts. But I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t serious.”
Lily studied him for a long moment, and then finally sighed. “I trust you, for Harry’s sake. But if you betray us—”
“I won’t,” Regulus interrupted quietly. His dark eyes were solemn, the weight of his own regrets visible in the faint slump of his shoulders. “I’ve already lost too much to Voldemort. I won’t let him take anything else.”
James stood, handing Harry to Lily and crossing the room to clap a hand on Regulus’ shoulder. “That’s the spirit,” he said, his grin softening into something genuine. “We knew we could count on you.”
Regulus didn’t flinch at the contact, though his body remained as still as stone. “I hope you’re right, Potter.”
In the days that followed, Regulus became the Potters’ unseen guardian. The Fidelius Charm was cast, with him as the Secret Keeper, and Godric’s Hollow became a haven sealed off from the world. He rarely visited in person—Lily’s icy glares ensured that—but he stayed in touch through coded letters, sending updates on Death Eater movements and cryptic warnings when danger drew near.
But on Halloween night, the silence shattered.
Regulus was in his small London flat when he felt it—a sharp, searing pain in his chest, like a warning bell ringing in his very soul. Something was wrong. Without hesitation, he grabbed his wand and Disapparated, arriving on the outskirts of Godric’s Hollow moments later.
The cottage was in ruins. Smoke curled into the night sky, and the faint smell of burning wood stung his nostrils. Heart pounding, Regulus stepped forward, his wand raised, when he heard it—a baby’s cry.
He darted inside, his heart sinking at the sight of James sprawled on the floor, lifeless. “Jamie,” Regulus whispered, his voice tight with grief.
Upstairs, he found Lily crumpled by the crib, her body shielding Harry’s tiny form. The child was unharmed, a faint lightning-shaped scar the only sign of the spell that had backfired.
Regulus froze, staring at the scene. He had kept the secret. Voldemort shouldn’t have known where they were. So how—
Then it hit him. The prophecy. Voldemort hadn’t needed the secret to find them; he’d pieced it together another way. The Potters had been doomed from the start.
“Regulus?” a faint voice rasped from behind him.
He turned sharply to see Sirius standing in the doorway, his face pale and drawn. “Sirius,” Regulus began, but his brother cut him off.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Sirius demanded, his voice raw.
Regulus opened his mouth to answer, but then he saw it—the flicker of realization in Sirius’s eyes, followed by a look of pure fury.
“You were the Secret Keeper,” Sirius whispered, his voice shaking. “You were supposed to protect them!”
“I did,” Regulus snapped, his own grief boiling over. “I never betrayed them. Voldemort didn’t need me to.”
Sirius’s wand wavered, doubt creeping into his expression. “Then how—”
“The prophecy,” Regulus said bitterly. “He figured it out without the Charm. I was too late.”
Silence fell between them, broken only by Harry’s soft whimpering. Finally, Sirius lowered his wand, though the distrust in his eyes remained. “If you’re lying—”
“I’m not,” Regulus said quietly, stepping past him. “But believe whatever you want, Sirius. It doesn’t matter. The Potters are gone. What matters now is keeping Harry safe.”
He paused at the door, glancing back at the child who had survived the impossible. In that moment, Regulus made a silent vow: he had failed James and Lily, but he wouldn’t fail Harry. Not again.
Regulus stood at the doorway for a long moment, his hand gripping the frame tightly. The sight of Harry, small and fragile in the wreckage of his crib, was seared into his mind. The boy was crying, his tiny fists waving in the air as though reaching for someone to save him. Regulus turned back, his face pale but resolute.
“Sirius,” he said quietly, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. “Take him. Take Harry somewhere safe.”
Sirius stared at him, his expression a mix of grief, rage, and suspicion. “And what are you going to do?”
Regulus hesitated, his gaze dropping to the lifeless body of his older brother’s best friend, the man he'd loved like no other, sprawled on the floor. James Potter—brash, infuriating James—had trusted him with everything, and now he was gone. For a moment, Regulus felt the crushing weight of failure settle on his chest.
“I’m going to finish what they started,” he said at last.
Sirius scoffed, the bitterness in his voice cutting through the air. “And what’s that, exactly? You’re going to take down Voldemort by yourself?”
Regulus met Sirius’s glare, his own dark eyes flashing. “I know more about Voldemort than you ever will,” he snapped. “I know what he’s done, the lengths he’s gone to. You think I haven’t been preparing for this?”
Sirius’s anger faltered for a moment, confusion flickering across his face. “What are you talking about?”
Regulus let out a harsh breath, running a hand through his hair. “There are things you don’t know, Sirius. Things I’ve seen. Voldemort’s power—it’s not natural. It’s tied to something else, something he’s hidden. If I can find it, I can destroy it.”
“And you expect me to believe this?” Sirius asked, his voice sharp.
“I don’t care what you believe,” Regulus shot back. “But I made a promise. To James, to Lily. I failed them, but I won’t fail Harry. If you don’t want my help, fine. But don’t stand in my way.”
Sirius looked torn, his jaw tight as he glanced at Harry, who had quieted into soft hiccups. Finally, he sighed and stepped closer to the crib, scooping the baby into his arms. Harry blinked up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes, his tiny hands clutching at Sirius’s robes.
“I’ll take him to safety,” Sirius said, his voice softer now. “But don’t think this absolves you of anything, Regulus. If I find out you’ve lied—”
“I haven’t,” Regulus interrupted firmly. “Now go. There’s no time to waste.”
As Sirius Disapparated with Harry, Regulus stood in the wreckage of the Potter home, his mind racing. Voldemort was gone—for now—but Regulus knew better than to assume it was permanent. The Dark Lord had tethered his life to something, an anchor that kept him from death. Regulus had spent years unraveling the mystery, piecing together the truth Voldemort thought no one else could discover.
Horcruxes.
He turned toward the shattered remnants of the living room, stepping carefully over the debris. He crouched near James’s body, his throat tightening as he whispered, “I’m sorry, Jamie. I should’ve done more.”
Standing, he resolved to do exactly that. His defection from the Death Eaters had been quiet, a slow erosion of loyalty after witnessing Voldemort’s atrocities. But this—this was the tipping point. Regulus would fight, not just for the Potters but for all the lives Voldemort sought to destroy.
He left the house and Apparated back to his flat, his mind already forming a plan. There was no time to grieve, no time to falter. He had to find the Horcruxes, destroy them, and put an end to Voldemort’s reign of terror once and for all.
Over the following months, Regulus worked in the shadows, his every move calculated to avoid detection. He sought out old texts, obscure artifacts, and whispered rumors, piecing together the locations of the Horcruxes.
He avoided Sirius, though he kept tabs on Harry through stolen glimpses of the newspapers. When he saw the announcement that Harry had been placed with Lily’s sister, his stomach churned with unease. He knew the Dursleys weren’t fit to raise a child, but he couldn’t intervene—not yet.
The weight of his mission grew heavier with each passing day. He uncovered the existence of the locket Horcrux and its connection to the cave he’d visited once as a Death Eater. The memory of that place haunted him, but he steeled himself for the task.
When the day came to retrieve the locket, Regulus knew he wouldn’t survive. The enchantments guarding it were deadly, and the Inferi lurking in the water were a threat even he couldn’t outrun. But he didn’t hesitate.
He left a note behind, addressed to Sirius, explaining everything: the Horcruxes, his plan, and his regret for not being the brother Sirius deserved.
As Regulus stood in the cave, the locket heavy in his hand, he felt a strange sense of peace. He had failed James and Lily, but in this moment, he was doing what he could to make it right.
When the potion took hold and the Inferi dragged him under, Regulus didn’t fight. His final thoughts were of Harry, of Sirius, and of a world free from Voldemort’s shadow.
And he hoped, somewhere in the future, his sacrifice would mean something.
Regulus awoke in a place unlike any he had ever known. It was quiet—not the ominous silence of Voldemort’s lairs, but a soft, serene hush that wrapped around him like a blanket. The air was warm, fragrant with the scent of something sweet and unnameable. He glanced down at himself, surprised to find he felt... whole. The aches and burdens of his mortal life were gone, replaced by a strange lightness.
He stood in what appeared to be a meadow, golden grasses swaying gently in an unseen breeze. In the distance, a figure was sitting beneath a giant willow tree, their dark hair catching the sunlight. Regulus froze, his chest tightening with recognition.
James Potter.
Regulus hesitated, uncertainty rooting him to the spot. What would James say to him? Would he be furious? Would he blame Regulus for the deaths of his family, for failing to protect them when it mattered most?
But James, as if sensing his presence, looked up and waved, a broad grin spreading across his face.
“Oi, Black!” James called, his tone as easy and warm as if they were old friends meeting after years apart. “Took you long enough!”
Regulus blinked, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief. Slowly, he began walking toward James, his steps hesitant at first but growing steadier with each stride.
When he reached the tree, James stood, brushing off his trousers. He looked exactly as Regulus remembered: wild hair, glasses slightly askew, and a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes. But there was something softer about him now, a peace that hadn’t been there in life.
“Potter,” Regulus said cautiously, unsure how to begin.
James stepped forward and clapped a hand on his shoulder, grinning. “Come on, you can call me James now. We’re both dead—it’s not like we have to keep up appearances.”
Regulus stared at him, the casual humor catching him off guard. “You’re... not angry?”
James tilted his head, his smile dimming just slightly. “Angry? At you?” He shook his head. “No, Reg. How could I be? You were our Secret Keeper. You didn’t betray us.”
Regulus’s throat tightened, guilt bubbling to the surface. “I failed you,” he whispered. “I couldn’t stop him. You, Lily... you both died because I wasn’t strong enough.”
James’s expression softened, and he let his hand fall to his side. “Regulus, you didn’t fail us. Voldemort would have come for us no matter what—it wasn’t your fault. And Lily and I... we made our choices. We knew the risks.”
“But Harry,” Regulus said, his voice breaking. “I couldn’t protect him either. He’s with... them. The Dursleys.”
James’s face darkened for a moment, but he quickly composed himself. “Yeah, I’m not thrilled about that either,” he admitted. “But Dumbledore thinks it’s the safest place for him, and I trust him. Harry’s strong, Reg. He’ll make it through.”
Regulus looked away, his shoulders slumping. “I tried to make it right,” he murmured. “I went after the locket. I... I wanted to destroy it, to finish what you and Lily couldn’t.”
James smiled again, though there was a flicker of sadness in his eyes. “And you did, Reg. You gave your life for that fight. You’re a hero, whether you want to admit it or not.”
Regulus shook his head, still unable to fully accept the forgiveness James so freely offered. “I don’t know if I deserve that.”
“Well, too bad,” James said, grinning again as he reached out and pulled Regulus into a quick, unexpected hug. “Because I’m giving it to you anyway. Lily’s going to want to see you too, you know. She’ll want to thank you for trying to protect Harry.”
Regulus stiffened, caught off guard by the gesture, but he didn’t pull away. Slowly, he allowed himself to relax, the crushing weight of guilt beginning to lift.
“Come on,” James said, stepping back and gesturing toward the horizon. “There’s a whole afterlife to explore. And if you’re up for it, I’ve got a few Quidditch matches to catch you up on. Turns out the afterlife has a killer league.”
Despite himself, Regulus let out a soft chuckle, the sound foreign to his ears. He followed James, his steps lighter than they’d been in years.
For the first time in a long time, Regulus felt a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could find peace here.
Regulus stood in the soft golden light of the afterlife, staring at James. The other man looked impossibly vibrant, alive in ways that Regulus had never seen during their fleeting moments in life. But there was something else now, something deeper—a connection Regulus had spent years denying but couldn’t ignore any longer.
James’s grin softened as he watched Regulus, his hazel eyes warm and unguarded. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” James teased, his voice gentle.
“I suppose I have,” Regulus replied, his own voice quieter, laced with something unspoken.
James’ smile faltered for a moment, his gaze growing more serious. “You really thought I’d be angry with you, didn’t you?”
Regulus glanced away, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know what I thought. I just... I never expected this.” He gestured vaguely to the tranquil meadow, but his words carried a deeper meaning.
James stepped closer, his hand brushing against Regulus’s arm. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, his voice low. “I missed you.”
Regulus froze, his heart—or whatever replaced it here—skipping a beat. “James...”
“Don’t,” James said, shaking his head. “Don’t try to push this away, Reg. We’ve both been doing that for far too long.”
Regulus' throat tightened as memories flooded back—stolen moments, heated arguments, and the magnetic pull that had always existed between them, no matter how much they tried to fight it. “You had Lily,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.
“I loved Lily,” James said simply. “I still do. But loving her doesn’t mean I didn’t love you too. I always did, Reg. Even when you tried to push me away. Even when you left.”
Regulus’s eyes widened, the weight of James’s words hitting him like a tidal wave. “You... you don’t mean that,” he said, his voice trembling. “You couldn’t.”
James smiled softly, stepping closer until there was barely any space between them. “I’ve had plenty of time to think about it,” he said. “And I’ve never been more sure. I loved you then, and I love you now.”
The air between them seemed to hum with unspoken emotions, years of longing and regret bubbling to the surface. Regulus swallowed hard, his dark eyes shining. “I loved you too,” he admitted, the words finally spilling free. “I never stopped.”
James reached out, cupping Regulus’ face with a tenderness that made his breath hitch. “Then stop punishing yourself,” James murmured. “We have all the time in the world now. No secrets, no war. Just us.”
Regulus’ resolve crumbled, and he leaned into James’ touch, his eyes fluttering shut. For the first time, he allowed himself to feel everything he had buried: the love, the yearning, the heartbreak.
James leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. “This is our afterlife, Reg,” he said softly. “You and me. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
A tear slipped down Regulus' cheek, but it was one of relief, not sorrow. “Neither would I,” he whispered.
As they stood together beneath the golden light of eternity, Regulus felt a sense of peace he had never known in life. This—James, their love, and the quiet promise of forever—was everything he had ever wanted.
And for the first time, he believed he deserved it.