Work Text:
“De tudo, ao meu amor serei atento
Antes, e com tal zelo, e sempre, e tanto
Que mesmo em face do maior encanto
Dele se encante mais meu pensamento.
Quero vivê-lo em cada vão momento
E em seu louvor hei de espalhar meu canto
E rir meu riso e derramar meu pranto
Ao seu pesar ou seu contentamento.
E assim, quando mais tarde me procure
Quem sabe a morte, angústia de quem vive
Quem sabe a solidão, fim de quem ama
Eu possa me dizer do amor (que tive):
Que não seja imortal, posto que é chama
Mas que seja infinito enquanto dure.“
"Soneto da Fidelidade" Vinicius de Moraes, 1946
James Potter had always been a firm believer in true love.
He grew up watching his parents love each other unconditionally, in the most genuine of ways. He saw how they looked at each other, how they touched one another. Small gestures, but with great meaning.
Once, when James was around five years old, he woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of soft music coming from the sitting room. As he made his way down the stairs and towards the kitchen, where the music seemed to be coming from, he saw the scene that would mark him for life. His parents were swaying slowly through the kitchen, wrapped in a comfortable silence. Euphemia's head rested on Fleamont's shoulder, who, in turn, guided their movements gently.
In that moment, they were just two people in love, dancing in the kitchen of their home, loving each other with no one watching. They were simply one another's.
It was the purest display of love James had ever witnessed, and he longed deeply for something like that. He wanted to dance in a kitchen, in the middle of the night, with his beloved, knowing their child was asleep upstairs. He wanted to build a family.
Of course, James had also seen couples who didn't work out.
His Aunt Maggie and her husband, Vincent, had never had a good relationship. He was young when the two of them separated, but he remembered Vincent saying that if Maggie couldn't bear him an heir, she didn't deserve a husband. It was cruel. It was horrible. It was a part of love.
To James, there was something irreparable about love. Maybe that's what made it so beautiful and at the same time so painful — the fact that, when you give yourself over completely, you expose yourself to the risk of losing everything.
Fleamont and Euphemia Potter had found everything in love.
Vincent and Maggie Ferrara had lost everything in love.
The question that always lingered in James's mind was: would he find everything, or lose it all?
Regulus Black and James Potter first met in 1972, when Sirius walked into the Hogwarts Express compartment where Remus, Peter and James were sitting, with the most beautiful boy James had ever seen following closely behind.
The boy had black, wavy hair that fell softly over his forehead, and the most fascinating eyes one could ever imagine: a deep blue reminiscent of the sea, and a clouded grey, like a distant storm. Like Sirius, he carried an aristocratic air and impeccable posture, but his rigidity was even more pronounced than his brother's. Simply stunning.
James vaguely recalled Sirius pointing to the boy and introducing him as Regulus, but he was far too busy staring at him — and Regulus was staring right back. Regulus scrunched his nose in feigned distaste and rolled his eyes with irony. James felt an unexpected heat rise up his spine, a feeling he couldn't quite explain, but he started laughing — bubbling laughter — ignoring the curious looks from Sirius and Peter, and the strange glance Remus gave him. He was far too focused on the widened eyes of Regulus and the faint blush spreading across his cheeks.
Yes, Regulus Black had James in the palm of his hand from the age of eleven, even if neither of them knew it yet.
James couldn't stop thinking about Regulus. It wasn't just the way he moved through the world, like someone had once told him it belonged to him, with a coldness that seemed to be a part of who he was. It was the way his stormy, crystalline eyes would soften whenever they met the warm chocolate of James's gaze.
It didn't take long before he found himself constantly lost in thoughts about his best mate's little brother. It was wrong to do that to Sirius — James was sure Sirius would not be pleased to learn who was occupying nearly every second of his best friend's thoughts — but how could he not, when Regulus was the most beautiful and intriguing person James had ever known? Sirius would have to forgive him, because James didn't want to stop thinking about Regulus. Not ever. Even if he didn't yet understand why.
He knew what true love was — he'd seen it in his parents. But what he felt for Regulus? That was confusing. What he did know was that, whenever Regulus was nearby, he became a complete mess, and it was even more evident when the Slytherin caught him staring and offered him that soft smile — the one that seemed reserved only for James and Evan Rosier, his best friend. James was more than happy to share that smile.
That lasted another two years, but everything changed when James walked onto the Quidditch pitch for a match against Slytherin and saw Regulus there — Seeker. And then, when they were both in the air, James's eyes landed on Regulus searching for the Snitch, and he fell off his broom before the match had even gone five minutes. That was the moment he finally realised he was in love with his best friend's younger brother. Even knowing Sirius would hate it, James prayed that he could be like his parents — that he could find everything in love.
What a mess.
Good thing James Potter had always been excellent at handling them.
The first time James managed to talk to Regulus without Sirius around was during a sleepless night.
It's something no one would suspect, but James often couldn't sleep. His anxiety chewed him to the bone. There was a war happening beyond the walls of the castle, and James could do nothing to help apart from his training with the Order of the Phoenix — which wasn't particularly useful, considering it only happened twice a month. He was about to finish his final year and didn't know what to do about any of it.
One of those nights, when he tossed and turned until he nearly lost his mind and decided to wander through Hogwarts, happened three months ago.
James headed to the castle kitchens, intending only to ask the house-elves for some hot chocolate and chat a bit. But instead, he found Regulus Black sitting at one of the tables — and all of his plans for that night dissolved in an instant.
The elves gathered excitedly around James, but his eyes were fixed on the boy before him, who now wore a gentle smile as he watched him.
James had always been fascinated by how one of Regulus's eyes looked like a stormy sea, while the other held the tension of a tempest ready to break. It only made Regulus all the more irresistible to him.
James waved off the elves, thanking them for their kindness and promising he'd return sometime with Sirius, so they could show his friend the new pie recipe they'd discovered.
He sat beside Regulus at the table, silently hoping not to be told off.
"Can't sleep?" Merlin, that was Regulus Black speaking to him?
"Something like that," James replied, eyes fixed on the side of Regulus's face, who was watching the elves at work. "And you?"
"Something like that," Regulus repeated, a false bite in his voice.
A comfortable silence stretched between them — Regulus watching the elves, James watching Regulus.
Who could blame him? He'd been mad for Regulus since he was twelve, even if he hadn't known it until he was fourteen, and now he was sitting beside him. There was no universe in which he wouldn't stare at the boy with a storm and an ocean in his eyes.
A few minutes later, James felt the need to hear Regulus's voice again, and decided the best way to make that happen was to start a conversation. "Every time I lay my head on my pillow, I dream about the war. I see myself dying without even fighting. I see myself, right now, not fighting — while Muggles and Muggle-borns are being murdered by Voldemort."
He'd never told anyone about these thoughts, fearing he'd only burden them more than they already were. Merlin, they were all in a war — it wasn't just James suffering, so why would he unload his emotions on his friends? But with Regulus, it was different. He wanted Regulus to know every single thought in his head, bottle them up and drink them. He wanted Regulus to open up his body and see everything he had to give. Strangely, he liked the feeling of being seen by Regulus.
After a few seconds of silence, James got what he wanted — Regulus spoke. "You care, Potter. And that's the bravest thing you can do."
"How is caring the bravest thing to do when I'm just stuck in this castle?"
A pause. "Most people in the war are there because they believe their side is right and they want to be seen as heroes. They hope that, when the war ends, if their side wins, they'll be recognised. You don't seem to care about being a hero. You care, Potter. You want to fight to protect the people being hunted."
James was silent for a while.
To him, that didn't feel like bravery. Because even though he cared, he still wasn't doing anything — not really. He wasn't helping the war effort. He wasn't saving lives. Every day, the Daily Prophet published a new list of the dead, and all he could do was read it and cry where no one could see — only to put on a smile afterward and comfort his housemates when their families' names appeared on that list.
To him, anyone who joined the war did it for those being attacked — not for glory.
"But I'm still not doing anything, Reg," James said quietly.
"You care — and that's more than most can say. Caring, like I said, is the bravest act in a war, because it gives you nothing and only eats away at your time. Merlin, Potter, you're not even sleeping properly because of it, but you still choose to care," a pause. "When you're able to fight — will you?"
There was no hesitation before James answered. "Yes."
He glanced sideways at Regulus, who was strangely wearing a soft smile, but his eyes were burning with something fierce.
"That's the measure of your courage."
After that came the second time they met, two weeks later. Regulus was in the same place at the same time, and the two of them sat together, chatting for a while about mundane things. By the third time, it was no longer just a coincidence because James had used the Marauder's Map to find out where Regulus was. Then came a fourth, fifth and sixth meeting, but the seventh was different.
James was sitting alone in the Astronomy Tower after a rough Gryffindor versus Slytherin match. They'd lost by twenty points when Regulus caught the Snitch — the little bastard.
Lost in thought, James didn't notice another presence until a cold hand gripped his jaw and turned his face. His first instinct was to pull away, but the hand didn't let him, and when his eyes finally focused on who was in front of him, all he could do was thank Merlin that he hadn't moved. Regulus looked breathtaking in his Quidditch uniform.
He reeked of drink and cigarettes, but James didn't care. He'd cost them the match, but who gave a damn? He was his Regulus.
"Hey, Reggie. Don't you have a party to be at?" James asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
Regulus didn't smile back. His expression was almost predatory.
"You're not easy to find, you know?" he whispered.
James was about to reply, but soft lips found his, and Regulus climbed onto his lap. James's hands instinctively moved to his waist, gripping tightly, like they belonged there. When Regulus moaned and threw his head back, giving James access to his neck, the game was the last thing on his mind. All he could think of was Regulus, Regulus, Regulus.
And when he laid Regulus down on the cold, grimy floor of the Astronomy Tower and they spent the rest of the night exchanging gasps and warmth, everything felt exactly where it should be.
He had his boy. And now his boy knew he had him, too.
After that, their meetings became more frequent. Every other day, they were together in the Astronomy Tower.
Those were the best parts of James's days. He loved lying on Regulus's lap, letting himself be doted on as he rambled about everything he'd done, and he loved even more listening to Regulus muse about his studies and the books he'd been reading.
Had he been any less in love, he might have noticed that all those studies were about the Dark Arts. He might have noticed the shadowy gleam in Regulus's eyes when he spoke of them. But even if he had been less in love, he would've still had enough fire in him to stay — no matter what. And for that, he was grateful he never found out.
Evan introduced Regulus to the Room of Requirement, and they started meeting there. They managed to make it into a room that felt perfect for them, and then they began spending the night together once a week.
They also started dating.
James doesn't remember exactly when it happened, but at some point Regulus started referring to him as his boyfriend, and he couldn't have been happier.
Sirius never found out. He'd have gone mental if he had.
None of their friends knew — neither James's nor Regulus's. It was as if they didn't exist as a couple. If a tree falls, but no one is there to see it, did it really fall?
To James, the answer was simple: it didn't. But he and Regulus had seen that tree planted, watched it grow, bear fruit, and now they were about to witness it fall.
The tree fell in the final week of term. James would be leaving Hogwarts, and Regulus would be going home for the holidays, ready to start his final year.
When James arrived in the corridor outside the Room of Requirement, the door was already there. He smiled because Regulus had arrived first. That was unusual.
If James had known what was waiting for him, he never would've opened the door. He'd have preferred to spend his life wondering what might've happened if he had walked in, to spend forever with the doubt than a lifetime with that certainty.
But he didn't know. So he opened the door, still smiling.
Regulus was sitting on the edge of the bed and stood up immediately. His lips formed the words that would haunt James for the rest of his life: "I don't love you anymore."
"What?" James asked, stepping closer. His smile vanished, replaced by confusion. Maybe he'd misheard.
Regulus didn't allow that doubt. He hadn't misheard. Regulus was ending it in the cruelest way possible: by denying him love.
James left Hogwarts with all his belongings packed, but he knew he'd left the most important thing behind, inside a beautiful room, perfectly designed for him and someone whose name his heart could no longer bear to speak.
On the Hogwarts Express, he laughed and talked as he always did. His friends never noticed anything was wrong. He never told them what had happened.
To everyone else, that tree had never fallen — because it had never existed. But for him, the fall had been so loud it made him want to cover his ears.
James joined the Order of the Phoenix. He liked being able to fight. He tried to fill all his free time with missions, and when he wasn't on one, he spent time with his mates and his parents.
Life was good.
It was good — until it wasn't.
Because on one of his aerial missions, one of the Death Eaters flew in a style James knew all too well.
Regulus Black. He'd recognise Regulus anywhere.
James fell from his broom the moment he realised. He didn't die because Marlene caught him just in time. He would've rather died than live the rest of his life with that image burned into his mind.
Time went on, but he couldn't shake the feeling that half of his heart had been left with someone who didn't want it.
Still, he believed the other half remained intact.
Or so he thought.
On 25th August 1978, James sat alone in the kitchen of his parents' house and opened the Daily Prophet. His calm shattered the moment his heart registered the headline before his eyes did:
REGULUS BLACK, HEIR TO THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK, IS DEAD
James stood up only for his knees to give out beneath him, and he collapsed to the floor, curled in on himself. His thoughts wandered to the nights he'd spent in this very position, receiving affection from a corpse, rambling on about everything and nothing.
Somewhere far away, he heard Sirius shouting, but he was too busy trying to feel phantom fingers running through his curls to care.
If James had thought the tree fell in the Room of Requirement, he was certain the entire forest had been flooded by blue eyes and burnt to ash by grey ones right there, in his kitchen.
No one saw the tree fall — but would they notice an entire forest being destroyed?
The answer was no. Only James knew the forest was gone.
And maybe he'd misjudged love.
It had never been about finding everything or losing everything. You can't find everything in love, because love isn't just the good bits. But you can't lose everything either, because love isn't just made of pain.
His parents' love was the perfect picture of finding more than losing, but still facing the ache along the way, because there are always stones on the path.
His aunt and uncle's love was the perfect image of losing more than gaining, but still having the tenderness of remembering warm embraces and a passionate "yes" at the altar.
Because love isn't always about having the right person for life — sometimes it's about having the right person for that moment.
His and Regulus's love was the perfect representation of love at first and last sight. The very embodiment of finding and losing everything at once.
The forest was gone. But to have trees to fall, many seeds had to be planted.