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Harry sat on the floor, surrounded by his friends. The Gryffindor common room was warm, the fire crackling softly in the hearth. His friends—Hermione, Ron, Neville, and even a very skeptical Draco—were listening intently as Harry leaned forward with a grin.
“Alright,” he said dramatically, “this is the story of how my Daddy Regulus saved me from Voldemort.”
Ron’s eyes widened. “Wait—Regulus Black? Your dad fought You-Know-Who?”
Harry nodded proudly. “He did. And he did it for me.”
Draco, who had been lounging in the armchair nearby, scoffed. “My father always said your dad was a coward.”
Harry glared. “Your father is an idiot.”
Hermione gasped. Neville looked like he wanted to disappear.
Draco flushed. “I didn’t say I believed him!”
Harry huffed. “Good. Because my dad was the bravest person ever.” He smirked. “Now, do you want to hear the story or not?”
They all nodded.
Harry grinned. “Alright. It all started the night Voldemort came for us…”
---
The Night Everything Changed
Regulus Black had never been afraid of death.
He had faced it before—when he defied his family, when he betrayed Voldemort, when he had turned his back on everything he was supposed to be.
But that night?
That night, he was terrified.
Because Voldemort wasn’t just after him.
He was after Harry.
Their little starlight.
James was pacing the nursery, his wand gripped tightly in his hand. His hazel eyes burned with fury and fear, but his voice was steady when he said, “We can’t run, Reg. We fight.”
Regulus, standing by Harry’s crib, gently ran his fingers through their son’s messy black hair. “Of course we fight.”
James swallowed hard. “I’m not losing you.”
Regulus looked up. “And I’m not losing either of you.”
They heard the crash before they saw the door explode open.
Voldemort had arrived.
The Battle for Harry
James reacted first, raising his wand and firing spell after spell at Voldemort, trying to keep him away from the nursery.
Regulus didn’t hesitate. He turned to Harry, kissed his forehead, and whispered, “I love you, starlight.” Then he placed a protective charm over the crib—one even Voldemort wouldn’t be able to break easily.
But Voldemort was too powerful.
James was thrown back by a blast of green light, hitting the wall with a sickening thud.
Regulus’s heart stopped.
James wasn’t moving.
Voldemort stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “Foolish, pathetic Blacks and Potters.” His gaze landed on Harry’s crib. “And this… this is the child who is prophesied to defeat me?” He laughed.
Regulus moved before he could think.
He threw himself in front of Harry’s crib, wand raised, ready to die for his son.
“You won’t touch him,” he snarled.
Voldemort smirked. “Oh, Regulus. You always were weak.”
“I’m stronger than you think.”
Voldemort raised his wand. “Then let’s see how long you last.”
The fight was brutal.
Regulus dodged and countered, casting every spell he knew, using every ounce of his magic.
But Voldemort was relentless.
Regulus felt the spells burning his skin, felt the pain tearing through his body. But he refused to fall.
Because if he fell, Harry would die.
And then—just when he thought he wouldn’t last any longer—he heard a voice.
“Get away from my family, you bastard!”
James.
He was still alive.
And he was furious.
Voldemort barely had time to turn before James unleashed everything he had.
And in that moment—James Potter did the impossible.
He overpowered Voldemort himself.
The room exploded with magic. Voldemort screamed as his body began to disintegrate, the magic turning against him.
And just like that—
He was gone.
The Aftermath
Regulus collapsed, gasping for air.
James was instantly at his side, gripping his face, eyes wild.
“Regulus, stay with me—”
Regulus blinked slowly. “Is Harry…?”
James let out a shaky breath and looked at the crib.
Harry was completely fine.
The protective charm had held.
James let out a laugh of pure relief. Then he looked back at Regulus and kissed him.
Hard.
“You saved him,” James whispered.
Regulus, exhausted but alive, smirked. “Told you I would.”
---
The End of the Story
Harry finished the story with a grin.
“And that’s how my Daddy Regulus saved me.”
The common room was silent.
Ron’s mouth was hanging open.
Neville looked amazed.
Hermione had tears in her eyes.
Even Draco looked… impressed.
“…Okay,” Ron finally said. “That was bloody brilliant.”
Harry beamed. “Yeah, my dads are pretty cool.”
Draco rolled his eyes but smiled. “Fine. Maybe my father was wrong about Regulus.”
Harry smirked. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”
They all laughed, the warmth of the fire flickering around them.
Harry leaned back, feeling proud.
Because he wasn’t just The Boy Who Lived.
He was the boy who was loved.