Chapter Text
February 5, 1978
Regulus can hear the uneven footsteps and odd panting from the caretaker behind them as he runs after James, desperate to keep up and not get caught. James had managed to convince him to help plant dungbombs in Filch’s office for one of the marauders' many idiotic and immature pranks. It was almost a success until their planned distractions failed and Filch returned to his office ahead of schedule, hence their current predicament. And so he curses his boyfriend under his breath and silently prays that he knows where he’s leading them. He does, apparently, as they quickly slow down in a seventh floor corridor next to a door he’s somehow never noticed in the almost six years he’s been at Hogwarts. James grabs Regulus by the wrist and pulls him into the mysterious room and shuts the door behind them. He looks around to find a very large and dimly lit room filled with rows of shelves and piles of all sorts of random objects, most covered in a noticeable layer of dust. “What-”
“The room of requirement!” James explains proudly, spreading his arm out to show off the room with a stupid grin on his face. Regulus stares at him for a moment, not comprehending at all.
“So, is it like storage?” he asks.
“Well, this version of it is because I need a place to hide the extra dungbombs we didn’t use”
“I’m sorry, this version?”
“Yeah, it can be anything you want really. It appears when you need something and gives it to you when you pass it,” James explains more clearly. Regulus looks around again, this time with more appreciation and he walks further into the aisles. He rakes his eyes over abandoned textbooks, clothes, tables, wardrobes, figurines, and so, so much more. James follows him quietly and places the dungbombs in the back of one of the shelves. Regulus is speechless, utterly consumed by every piece and the lost stories behind them all. Centuries of Hogwarts lost history, echoes of thousands’ everyday lives all piled into one place. Some people might think nothing of it but Regulus is fascinated, feeling he could spend hours here wondering how each little thing found its way in. “We can walk around if you want,” James adds as he picks up an old snitch from the shelf behind him.
Regulus immediately goes for an old, dusty school book which turns out to be faded beyond comprehension. They weave their way through the rows, James smiling quietly behind him, proud to have introduced him to the room as Regulus leads him through. The pair of them point out the most peculiar and intriguing items such as old quidditch chests, rusted cages, and a strange mirror that shows them both unsettling shadowy figures behind their reflections. James teases Regulus as his shadow is much closer than James’, Regulus doesn’t find it very funny. He moves on to inspect another heavily faded book, this one he can at least tell is about potions. Next to him, James reaches towards the back of the shelf for a shining silvery something that instantly grabs Regulus’ attention as well. Shutting the old book with a puff of dust, he turns for a better look, “It’s a crown, I think?” James mutters.
“Hmm,” he replies, oddly entranced by the object. It makes him uncomfortable, very uncomfortable. The crown isn’t the first thng in here to send a chill down his spine; the mirror definitely did as well as a sinister sounding music box, which he kept after shutting quickly. This one feels different and distinctly more evil than the others. Regulus refuses to admit his concerns until James blurts out, “I hate it”.
“So do I”
“It feels…”
“Evil,” Regulus finishes for him. James nods and purses his lips in agreement and shoves back into the dark shadows of the shelf. They both sigh and move away from the aisle, continuing to inspect various knick knacks along their way. Regulus flips through a couple more books and examines an odd lamp and James finds an old broom and a bizarre globe displaying an extremely outdated map. The two then turn yet another corner and stumble upon an ancient looking desk still filled with the old papers and belongings of its owner. Regulus squints at the loopy writings scribbled across piles and piles of loose pages as James digs through the top drawer.
“Holy shit!” he gasps, standing up quickly. Regulus turns to him, now holding up a golden necklace. He furrows his brows,
“What is it?”
“Regulus, its a time turner!” The words sink in slower than they should because it sounds so absurd. Time turners are heavily monitored by the ministry, finding one lying around should be impossible yet here it is dangling from James’ fingertips.
“We should use it!” James whispers, wiggling his eyebrows at him and smiling mischievously.
“Absolutely not,” he replies firmly.
“Please, Regulus?”
“No! Fuck no! James, do you know how dangerous those things are?”
“Yeah, yeah we can’t be seen of whatever, I know”
“And what if we go too far and see shit were not supposed to?”
“We won’t. My dads told me about these, they have enchantments on them so you can only go a few hours either way!” James pushes. Regulus huffs, unsure what to think. It’s stupid, really stupid, but James is convincing as always and when else is he going to have this chance?
“Fine.”
“Really?” James asks, surprised by his acceptance.
“Yeah. It’s stupid, like the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but it feels like a once in a lifetime thing, doesn’t it?” Regulus explains, biting down the urge to immediately take it back. James grins and moves to hook it around their necks which he hesitantly allows as he takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself.
“You okay?” James asks and Regulus nods. “Should we spin it as far as we can you think?”
“You sure it has enchantments on it?”
“Yeah, my dad said so,” James repeats. Regulus nods again and hopes desperately that Fleamont Potter knows what hes talking about.
“Are we going forward or backward?”
“Er, I’m not sure…” James says slowly, inspecting the time turner.
“Well that's comforting!” Regulus retorts sarcastically. James ignores him,
“You ready?”
“I guess?” Regulus tells him and James spins the pendant as hard as he can with the tip of his finger and the room begins to whirl around them violently.