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Walking the castle so late at night gave Regulus Black a new feeling of vulnerability. He hated sneaking and skulking around. He also hated that he had to leave his dorm in the first place. Barty and Evan, who are a sickening couple in everyday lengths anyway, had kicked Regulus out of his own bed. When he caught on to what they wanted to do, he didn’t waste any time in finding a new place to sleep. 

But he has no other Slytherin friends. Most students fear him, and if they don’t fear him, they hate him. They either see him as a prestigious, snotty Pureblood with no regard for others, or a sleazy little nobody shrouded in his older brother’s shadow. And he didn’t know which opinion he’d prefer people to have, honestly. 

And what was even worse—his only option for a bed tonight is in the very person’s room who’d always one-upped him in everything. He was more popular, he had more friends, he had more enemies, sure, but at least that fact made him somebody. His stupidly obnoxious brother, Sirius. Sirius had mentioned once before that Regulus could stop by and see him any time of any day, if it were an emergency. Sirius told him the Gryffindor common room password every time it changed, just in case. Regulus never took him up on the offer. Tonight would be the first time. 

He honestly despised being around his brother at school. Mostly because of his even more obnoxious best friend, James Potter. The ego of the guy was far larger than Hogwarts itself. It made Regulus sick. But of course, there were more reasons to despise him. He was funny, and that ticked Regulus off. He was kind when he wasn’t trying to rebel against the rules or make someone laugh. He was always nice to Regulus on every one of their scarce and brief meetings; he’d compliment him and smile at him. And each time, Regulus felt like a silly kid in grade school who’d been crushing hard on another boy in his class, just a few chairs in front of him. 

God, Regulus hated that he couldn’t hate him. 

Regulus finally gets to the Fat Lady’s portrait. He looks up at her, feeling slightly intimidated. He clears his throat, and looks from either side of him down the halls. “Mermaid tears?” He says quietly, looking up at her for confirmation. The Lady’s eyes shoot open, and she starts looking around wildly. “What!? Who is there!?” She yells. Regulus’s eyes go wide in a panic. He holds his hands out in front of him. “Please—shut up! Just—Did I say the right password?” 

The Lady finally notices his presence. She bends down and raises an eyebrow. Regulus backs away slightly, even though it’d be impossible for her to leap out of the portrait to examine him up close. “Well, I… Yes. But I’ve never seen you before. And you’re certainly not a First Year,” she yaps. Regulus shushes her again. Her voice echoes throughout the halls. “I’m not—!” He starts with a loud voice. But he sighs, and quiets down. “I’m a Slytherin Sixth Year. Can I please—?” 

“Then how do you know the password!? Your place is in the dungeons.” Regulus scrunches his nose up at her. How dare she? “Please, just let me in. I said the password. It’s—my brother. My older brother lives here. He’s in Gryffindor. I have to talk to him.” The Fat Lady stands back up and moves back within her portrait to throw her nose up in the air. “This late in the evening? Hmph,” she crosses her arms over her large bust. She peeks at him through her painted lashes. She points at him. 

“How does a lovely Gryffindor get a screw up Slytherin for a brother? How peculiar.” Regulus scoffs. He’s wasting his time. “I’ll have you know that Sirius is the screw up, actually,” he says, sounding satisfied with himself. The Fat Lady’s eyes glisten. “Oh—Did you say Sirius, dear? As in Sirius Black?” Regulus sighs. “Yes. I’m his younger brother,” he answers, “So can I please be let in? Aren’t you supposed to open up once someone says the password?” 

“Oh, my stars. You’re the cute little thing they always talk about! Well, I will say that I imagined you to be taller…” Regulus crosses his arms. What did she mean “they?” Regulus furrows his brows and frowns. “Okay, that’s enough. Can you please just tell me whether or not you’ll let me in?” Regulus asks. The Fat Lady laughs loudly, her bust moving up and down in glee. 

She wipes at her eye to dissolve any tears that may or may not have been conjured. “You Black’s are quite interesting. You slay me, Little Sirius.” Regulus’s frown grows even deeper. Out of frustration, he starts reaching for his wand. “Oh, I’ll slay you, alright,” he mutters. He grabs hold of his wand handle, and begins pulling it out of his pocket. Until, suddenly, he senses someone behind him. 

He whips around in a rush, horrified for it to be a professor. His mother would be furious if she heard he’d been wandering the corridors after curfew. But when his eyes focus on the person, annoyance quickly replaces his fear. In front of him stands a disheveled James Potter, with unkempt hair and loose pajamas. His Hogwarts robes were sliding off one shoulder. A gentle smile is on his face. He looks surprised, but happy. 

“How did you—?” Regulus looks around the halls, wondering where on Earth James had come from. James has his arms behind his back. He looks past Regulus to the portrait. “How’s your night going, Lady?” He asks brightly. Regulus has the urge to shush him. The Fat Lady chortles. “I’m doing very well, Jamesy.” James smiles with charm and bows his head to her. She curtsies back at him. When James passes by Regulus, his arms swing normally at his sides. Whatever he seemed to be holding before, it wasn’t here anymore. 

He stands confidently in front of the portrait. “Mermaid tears,” he says, then looks over his shoulder at Regulus, “And Reggie here is going to be joining me.” Regulus scoffs at the nickname, given by his brother, of course. The Fat Lady nods. “Of course! Anything for you, Jamesy.” The portrait swings open. James steps right inside, and he tells Regulus to watch his step. 

“Jamesy, huh?” Regulus asks, sounding bored. James ignores him. Regulus has been inside the Gryffindor common room once before, when he was only eleven. He had made a racket to an older Gryffindor student to take him inside to see his brother. They complied after a while, and Regulus waited for him down here. He was scared of a thunderstorm. 

The room itself relatively looks the same, with scarlet red walls and intricate lace patterns. The furniture is a matching red, and sported golden accents. Two large sofas surround a rectangular table in front of a fireplace. Four armchairs are nestled in the left corner of the room. Books lined the walls, and portraits of landscapes and old Quidditch matches could be spotted. 

Regulus did miss the warmth that the room gave him. There was a certain safety that melted into his body. He wished his common room gave him that same feeling. But it was dreary and cold in the Dungeons. Sure, it was elegant and beautiful. But it didn’t feel like a home; it felt like a museum. 

“Lovely of you to come and visit me, Reg, I’m flattered,” James says walking further into the common room. Regulus scoffs at him. “Where’s my brother?” He asks, not bothering with any formalities. James didn’t deserve anything from him. James looks confused for a split second, or maybe like he was hiding something. “Sirius? He should, ah, be in our dorm,” he answers. 

Regulus quickly turns to start going up the stairs; he remembered where their dorm room was. James stumbles over to him wildly. He snatches Regulus by his forearm to stop him. “Wait—! No. You can’t.” Regulus looks from James’s hand to his eyes, looking livid. He swallows down the burning sensation he gets from the touch. Dramatically, and with light aggression, he rips his arm out of James’s grasp. “I can’t? Watch me.” He begins to take the first step, when James jumps in front of him. 

“I’m not joking, Regulus. It’s—,” James pauses for a moment, thinking. He’s looking for an excuse, that part is obvious. Regulus waits for him to continue. But he never does. “I really don’t have time for this, Potter,” he mutters, “Move.” James presses his lips together. “I can’t,” he replies quickly. Regulus’s patience is thinning. “Fine. Then have my brother come down here. I need to talk to him.” James thinks about this, until he comes to the conclusion that that won’t work either. “I can’t…” 

“Fucking hell. What is it that you can do, Potter?” He spits. Before James can answer, Regulus says, “I know—because it’s all you ever seem to do. You can get on my last nerve. Which you’re doing right now.” Regulus removes his foot from the stairs. He crosses his arms. “What—is your stupid werewolf friend having another fit?” James’s eyes go wide with panic. His head spins around, making sure no one is around. “Christ, can you not say that so loud?” James says through gritted teeth. 

Regulus looks at him agitatedly. “I still can’t believe Sirius told you…” James mutters. Regulus sighs. If he isn’t able to ask Sirius to stay, he’ll have nowhere to go. He’d have to sleep in the Slytherin common room, which means that once everyone wakes up, they’d see him pathetically sleeping on the couch. Regulus wouldn’t be caught dead. James notices his sadness. “C’mon, let’s sit,” he suggests. Regulus shakes his head. He holds himself in his arms. James seems to understand. 

“Okay… Well, why do you need to talk to Sirius? Is everything okay?” He asks. Regulus can’t tell if it’s a genuine question or if he’s just being hospitable. “Why would I tell James Potter about my problems?” He asks incredulously. James furrows his brow. “Maybe because James Potter cares?” Regulus has no retort to this. Instead, he takes a deep breath. It wouldn’t hurt to tell him. “I need a place to sleep for tonight.” James looks puzzled. “Why?” 

“Barty kicked me out. He’s with Evan.” James’s eyebrows raise, and his lips part in surprise. “Why—are they together?” The way he asks the question makes it sound accusatory. Regulus takes a step away from him. “Yeah. Does that bother someone like you, Potter?” He questions. James has a blank expression on his face. “What? No. My best friends… That isn’t the point. I didn’t know Barty liked Evan,” James explains. Regulus doesn’t linger on the first part of his response. “Of course he does. He has since last year.” 

“Really? Because I always thought he liked you.” 

Regulus recoils, almost as if James just struck him across the face. His reaction is quick, though. “No one likes me,” he answers starkly. James shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s true,” he says. “Oh yeah? What do you know? You know what? Never mind. I’ll just sleep in my own common room, I guess,” he rambles, annoyed, adding, “A bed would’ve been nice, though.” 

Regulus turns to leave back out of the portrait. “Wait,” James says suddenly, moving in front of Regulus again, “Don’t go. We…can’t go to my dorm. But…” He makes a thinking face again, as if weighing multiple options in his brain. “But, if you come with me, I can definitely get you a bed,” he settles on saying. Regulus tilts his head in confusion. “Come with you where, exactly?” James swallows, seemingly having an internal conflict with himself. Something wins over the other, because he makes a definite exhale from his nostrils. 

“Have you ever heard of, uh…of an invisibility cloak?” 

• ••———•••

Regulus couldn’t believe it. James Potter had an invisibility cloak, the very rare artifact that was only said to be real in children’s stories. Of course James was that special. But even so, with Regulus hunkered down underneath the thin sheet of satin fabric, body pressed tightly behind James, he couldn’t believe what was happening. 

Regulus kept trying to peel his body off of James, but each time, James would stop in his tracks so that Regulus would stay close again. The cloak isn’t that big—it barely seemed to fit over James as it is. They’ve taken plenty of moving staircases, corridors, and doors to rooms he’s never even noticed before. Regulus is about to throw the damned thing off of them and demand to know where he’s being taken to, until James stops for the final time. 

He takes the cloak off of them. Immediately, Regulus takes a few large steps away from James. Regulus looks around them, seeing nothing but a blank brick wall across from an ugly looking tapestry. Regulus hasn’t been up here much. If he remembered correctly, they were on the seventh floor. Regulus throws James a pensive look, boring into his soul with his eyes. James throws the cloak over his shoulder and begins pacing the hall, back and forth. He looks like he’s concentrating hard. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Regulus demands, voice hushed and accusatory. James ignores him. About his third lap around, he stops, and stares anticipatingly at the blank wall before them. Before Regulus can ask what he’s waiting for, a large ornate wooden door with metal hinges appears suddenly before them. And Regulus is aware that he is a wizard, and attends a magical school. But, with his long family history, he’s never heard of anything like this before. He stares up at the door in awe. 

He looks over at James incredulously. “How’d you do that? What spell did you use?” James smiles, happy to know that Regulus is interested. “Well, it’s not a spell I used, per se. It’s the castle’s, I think. Sirius, Remus, and I stumbled upon it a few years ago,” he explains. Regulus steps closer to the door, and his hand traces the door handle to check if it’s real. “What’s inside?” Regulus asks. James shrugs. “I’m not sure. It changes every time. Remus says it creates the place you want to go to the most.” 

“And what place is that?” James glances at Regulus with misty eyes. “Let’s see, shall we?” He slides in front of Regulus and pops open the door. James steps inside first, then Regulus follows. Contrary to the size of the door, the room itself is small. It’s dimly lit, with a comfy ambiance. There’s a king sized bed in the middle of the room, on top of a traditional rug. “Whoa,” Regulus says, “You thought of this exactly?” 

“Sort of. Is this bed okay for you?” James asks. Regulus had forgotten that a bed is the reason why he went anywhere with James in the first place. “Oh. Yeah, it should be just fine. Thank you.” James grimaces, and moves back to the door, which had been left open by a crack. “Well, if you’re all settled, then I should probably get back,” James says quietly. Regulus’s eyes widen. “Wait—I’m not staying here alone. What if I can’t get back out?” He asks in a panic. 

James seems to think this is funny. “Don’t worry, it always lets you back out. When you want to come out, at least.” Regulus looks around the room, unsure. He was positive that it wasn’t even allowed, considering very few probably even knows this exists. He turns to James, and holds himself in his arms. “Listen, I appreciate you bringing me here and all, but…I’ll just go back to my common room. It was stupid of me to come and bother you, and—,” 

“No, no—!” James shouts, voice a little too loud. He checks his volume, and swallows nervously. “No. Don’t go back to your common room. I could… If you want, I can…stay here with you?” Regulus is thankful that the room is so dark, because he could feel his face heat up from the suggestion. When he doesn’t respond, James continues in a low ramble. “I don’t have to if you don’t want me to. And I could walk you back to your common room myself, if that’s what you wanted instead. It really doesn’t matter to me, y’know, I was just…offering…” 

It never crossed Regulus’s mind that a stuttering, tentative James Potter would be in front of him at all, let alone exist. James runs a hand through his curls, looking anywhere but Regulus. He truly didn’t want to go back to the common room. He didn’t want to stay here alone—what if the room swallowed him up whole, and he was stuck in here forever? What would the harm be in having him stay with him?

“Yeah,” Regulus whispers, “You can stay…if you want.” 

James looks caught off guard. He peers at Regulus with a raised brow, as if silently asking him, Are you sure? The large door behind James vanishes in an instant. It’s now replaced with a brick fireplace with orange and yellow flames. Regulus looks around him, reverting back to holding himself. “I don’t…have any clothes.” James’s eyes shoot over to the small table across from the bed. He nods to it. “Now you do,” he says. 

Regulus turns to see the very robes he’d been wearing folded neatly on the wooden surface. He looks down at himself; perfectly fitted Hogwarts pajamas hang off his body. “How did you…?” James grins, and Regulus sees that he’s changed as well. “I told you, it’s the castle. This room is pretty cool, huh?” He moves past Regulus to put his invisibility cloak down on the table next to their robes. Then, he moves to sit on the bed. 

“You couldn’t have dreamt up two beds?” Regulus asks. James looks unbothered. “I thought it’d just be you,” he explains easily. “Well, yeah, but… Can’t you dream them up now?” James quirks an eyebrow. “I told you already. It’s the castle, not really my dream.” Regulus crosses his arms. “I don’t care what it is. You did the clothes and the fireplace.” 

James looks over at the fireplace in a blank stare. “Huh. I didn’t do that,” he says earnestly. Regulus groans. “I swear, I didn’t,” he adds defensively. Regulus moves over to the other side of the bed. “You and my stupid brother and your swearing,” he mumbles, crawling under the blankets. It’s just about the softest bed he’s ever been in. He’s on the very edge, far away from James. “I’m going to bed,” he announces, and rolls over with his back to James. 

“With the lights on?” He quips. Regulus can feel his eye twitch from annoyance. “I don’t know how to turn them off.” James hums. Regulus can feel the bed dip down under his weight as he gets under the blankets, too. There’s a clunking noise, most likely James’s glasses being taken off. Regulus peeks an eye open to only be met with darkness. He doesn’t know if he asked it to do that, or if James did. “‘Night, Reg,” James says, sounding exhausted. Regulus digs himself deeper into the bed. He brings the blanket up to his chin. “Don’t call me that.” 

Regulus rips his eyes open, and shoots himself up. He feels the soft mattress under his palms, and can hear moving across from the tiny room. He sees James, sitting in a chair with his school robes on, holding a deactivated snitch. “Oh, hey, you’re up,” he greets, tossing the snitch up in the air, only for it to disappear just as it leaves his fingers. 

Regulus gets to his feet, and miraculously, without much thought, his robes appear on his body from thin air. James has his cloak tucked deep into one of his robe’s pockets. The fabric is so sheer, it’s barely noticeable. “Want me to walk you back to your common room?” James asks nicely. Regulus sticks his nose up at him. “No. I don’t wanna be seen with you,” he spits, walking over to the brick fireplace, which has been snuffed out. “Ouch,” James says, following him. 

“Thank you…for bringing me here. Now, could you please get the door back?” He asks, eyeing him briskly. James has a cute grin on his face. He motions back to the fireplace, which isn’t even there anymore. The same door from before is back, handle ready to be pulled. Regulus feels his stupor rise. He needs to get out of here, and he needs to get away from James. “Thanks,” he says under his breath. Regulus tugs the door open, and shuts it closed behind him before James could even think of following him out. 

Regulus makes it to the Great Hall just in time for the breakfast foods to pop up on all the tables. Regulus takes his regular seat next to Evan, across from Barty. When he reaches for a fork, Barty and Evan share a look of interest. “So… Where did you end up last night?” He asks. Regulus doesn’t bother to look at him. He stabs into a fried egg, and watches as the yolk seeps out onto the plate. “Why do you care? You’re the one who kicked me out,” Regulus mutters. 

Barty snorts. “Yeah, not on the street. What, did you sleep in the common room, then?” He presses. Regulus scoffs, and ignores him. Evan nudges him lightly. “As long as he got rest, Barty, I’m sure it doesn’t matter,” he says kindly. Regulus huffs and takes a bite of his egg. He takes a knife, and starts to butter his toast. It only dawns on him now that he doesn’t feel hungry at all. He continues to stab at the food until it’s in pieces. Barty nor Evan ask him anymore questions. 

Truly, he knows that he probably shouldn’t have come back to the Fat Lady’s portrait. But something in him forced him to go, as if he was being pulled by an invisible magnet. He didn’t come so late this time, so the Fat Lady was still awake. She looks very smug when she sees him below her. 

“Well, if it isn’t Little Sirius,” she says loudly. Regulus looks up at her indifferently. “You aren’t very nice, you know,” he says. She makes a hmph sound. “Says the Slytherin,” she responds rudely. He stares up at her with narrow eyes. “Mermaid tears,” he says curtly. The Fat Lady crosses her arms again, and sticks her nose up the very same way she had the night before. “I’m not letting you in,” she says. 

Regulus frowns. “I thought you liked me for being a Black,” he says. She chortles like a swine, covering her mouth as she does so. “The only Black I like is Sirius,” she says smugly. “Ugh, why? Out of all of us?” She shoots daggers at him. “He’s the only one with sense,” she retorts. Regulus gapes at her. “Miss, I’m the only one with sense in my family. Sirius got none of that when he was born. Could you please let me in?” 

“I only let you in last time because Jamesy asked me to.” She sings her little nickname for him in an obnoxious voice. Regulus is about to give up, when he hears a voice from behind him. “I’ll take him off your hands, Lady.” Regulus turns to see James appearing out of a small door to the side of a suit of armor. The Fat Lady looks relieved to see him. She starts to walk back further into her painting. Her voice is barely audible now, but Regulus can make out, “…not handle much more of him.” 

Regulus turns to look at James, but he’s nowhere to be found. He turns on his heel, eyes bouncing off the walls to find him. Someone grabs him by the scruff of the neck, and he’s pulled around a corner. Regulus stares wide eyed in front of him. James pops out from under the cloak with a mischievous smile, a finger on his lips. Regulus can’t help but be intrigued. 

“What do you do under there all night?” He asks, only half joking. James lets out a gentle laugh. He eyes in the direction of the Fat Lady. “Sirius isn’t here tonight. You see, my stupid werewolf friend is having another one of his fits, so…” Regulus grins, but stops himself just as he does. Surely he doesn’t find James Potter charming, right? He glances out one of the windows near him, and sees that the moon is full tonight. But it wasn’t full last night…? 

“I’m not here for Sirius,” Regulus answers. James seems to have already known this. But he tilts his head to the side to feign surprise. “Oh? Who are you here for, then?” He asks, but he already knows the answer. He stuffs his cloak in his pocket, and confidently says the password to the Fat Lady. She opens begrudgingly, saying something about how Regulus shouldn’t be allowed in at all. James moves to the narrow staircase to the dormitories. He turns and shushes Regulus. “We don’t wanna wake anyone,” he whispers. Regulus smiles, but puts his head down to hide it. “You’re the only one talking,” he points out, in the same quiet volume. 

Regulus follows James up the stairs. He hooks a right, then a sharp left to the last door in the tiny hall. When James gets lost inside the room, scooping things and tidying up, Regulus is dazed in the doorway. The pungent smell of James fills his nostrils. He smells of burnt firewood, soft potion aroma, and something citrusy. It’s addicting, to say the least. James’s bed is on the bottom right corner of the room. He’s busy moving things, like crumpled up clothes and torn parchment. 

Just above James’s bed is an empty, made mattress. It isn’t customized, or lived in. To the left, on the upper side is obviously Sirius’s bed—it’s messy and unmade. Almost everything personal is black; some shoes, a bottle of cologne, bottles of hair products, and a large standing mirror that he’d obviously somehow brought from home. Probably used an extending charm on his trunk, or something. To Regulus’s left, across from James’s, is a very neat set up. There’s a lodged shelf of books, and a desk with some ink and a quill. Piles of textbooks are stacked up on the trunk at the foot of the bed. 

James throws everything on top of his own bed. Regulus figured his side of the room would be a hot mess. James clicks open his trunk, and begins to rummage through it. Regulus steps inside cautiously. He trails a hand over what he assumed was Remus Lupin’s bedpost. He meanders over to Sirius’s side. On his desk (that he almost certainly never uses due to the amount of dust build up) has a framed photograph propped up—it’s of him and Regulus as kids. Regulus smiles to himself. James makes a sound of victory. 

Regulus turns to see him holding up a folded piece of empty parchment in his hands. He comes over to stand in front of James. “This is what I do all night,” he says as an explanation, though Regulus doesn’t understand. “It’s a…piece of parchment?” He inquires, confused. James takes his wand out, and stands next to Regulus, shoulder to shoulder. The tip of his wand slides against the paper. 

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he says. Regulus wants to laugh, because that doesn’t sound like any spell he’d ever heard. But, on command, red splotches of ink begin to bleed deep into the paper. And after a few seconds, a logo and a title are boasting proudly on the folded pieces. It’s an intricate design, with what looks to be a diagram of the castle etched in the middle. In long, tangling letters, it says: “Messers Mooney, Wormtail, Padfoot, & Prongs are proud to present The Marauder’s Map.” 

“What’s a Marauder’s Map?” Regulus asks. He recognizes the silly nicknames Sirius and his friends had given each other. Remus was Mooney, because he became a werewolf during a full moon. Sirius was Padfoot, though Regulus never understood why that came to be. And James was Prongs, because his patronus was a stag. Regulus knew that fact well, because it was the talk of his entire third year. James Potter casted a patronus in the Great Hall… He was practically a celebrity. Not that he ever stopped being one. 

“It’s ours. We made it,” James says proudly. Regulus looks up at him with interest. “Yeah, but what does it do?” James’s smile grows wider at the question. He unfolds the paper, and a gigantic floorplan of the entire school uncoils before them. But miniscule footprints litter specific areas. Where they were, Gryffindor Tower, clusters of footprints are huddled up together, unmoving. The same went for the Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw common rooms. Attached to every one of the prints was an even smaller banner of names. 

He sees his own name, next to James’s. He also sees the teachers’ names, all in their own quarters. He sees Professor Dumbledore’s name, moving around in his office. He sees Evan’s and Barty’s names, almost on top of one another’s. He searches everywhere, as fast as he can, for his brother and Remus, but he comes up short. The only moving footprints about the entire school were two: Apollyon Pringle, the caretaker, and Argus Filch, a squib in training to replace Pringle once he decided to finally retire, or more likely, die. They seemed to be making rounds on each of their respective floors. 

“This is…” Regulus can’t find words. It was truly amazing, but that didn’t seem like a good enough word to describe this. James bites his lip in anticipation. “Bloody brilliant, isn’t it? This is how I’m able to explore the castle after curfew without getting caught,” he explains with a smile. Regulus nods, eyes glistening with excitement. 

“How long have you guys had this?” He asks. James allows him to take it. He looks in every little detail the map has to offer. “A good few years now.” Regulus hums. “And you guys are the Marauders?” He questions, a slight tease in his voice. James nudges him. “And now you’re one, too,” he says warmly. Regulus’s heart swoons. He feels like he’s a part of something secret. Which, according to James, he is. 

Regulus begins to think about the amount of time they’ve had this thing. If it’s been years, his brother most definitely had probably seen his name attached to random Slytherin and Ravenclaw boys here and there. His neck heats up in embarrassment. “My brother can’t see this, can he?” He knows it’s a stupid question. “Of course he can. It’s his, too, after all.” Oh Merlin, that doesn’t make Regulus feel any type of good. Regulus gives the map back to James. He holds out his wand in the same fashion. 

“Mischief managed,” he says. All the beautiful ink drains off the page. It’s just an empty piece of parchment again. James folds it back up, and puts it into his back pocket. Regulus knows his brother is smart, and of course Remus is even smarter, but he never knew that they could make something so detailed and interesting. And James…he really is a remarkable wizard. Hell, he’s a remarkable person. 

“Did you need a place to sleep again tonight?” James asks, closing his trunk and flipping the locks down. Regulus shakes his head. He reverts back to holding himself. “No, I just…” He tries to find a real reason, but his mind isn’t quick enough. James grins, and his dimples appear. “Wanted an excuse to see me?” He asks, tone clearly playful, but his eyes look like they hold more truth. Of what that truth is, Regulus doesn’t want to know. Not right now. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Potter,” Regulus chimes, “I’m just bored.” James hums, sounding suspicious. He taps a finger on his chin. “Well, how do you like to have fun?” James asks. Regulus shrugs. “I dunno. I like to read,” he answers. James is quick to respond. “That’s all?” Regulus looks him in the eyes. “I like to paint sometimes, too.” This makes James’s face soften. “Oh, you do? That’s cool. Do you listen to any music?” 

He shrugs again. “Sometimes.” James pulls out the invisibility cloak. “I have an idea. Follow me.” He abruptly leaves the dorm, and rushes down the stairs. Regulus is just barely able to close the door and follow him down by skipping a few steps. James crawls through the portrait hole. When Regulus is out in the corridor with him, James tosses the thin cloak over top of both of them. Their bodies hunker down so that it covers their feet. James pulls the map out again, and whispers, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” 

James takes Regulus by the hand, and guides him down the dark, eerie corridors. Regulus tries to ignore the way his veins throb and pulse from James’s touch. James takes them up different flights of moving stairs, a familiar hall, a strange archway, and a couple of doors, and they end up back on the seventh floor with the tasteless tapestry. Regulus gets excited. 

James whisks off the cloak, and tosses both it and the map into Regulus’s arms. He paces three times with concentration. Instead of the large wooden door from the first time, a door about their height appears. It’s black and metal, looking like the entrance to a small shop in London. James takes back the map, says the magic words to make the ink go away, and pushes open the door. He offers Regulus to go in front of him with an open arm. 

The sight is so magnificent that Regulus drops the invisibility cloak to the floor. James scoops it up, and places his belongings on a conjured up table by the door. When James closes them in, the door vanishes, and is replaced by a potted plant. The room is much wider than it had been before, with gorgeous terracotta flooring. Two squashy armchairs center the room with a low table in between them. 

A glistening candle chandelier hangs proudly above their heads. The walls are covered in floor to ceiling bookshelves. And in one designated spot next to the armchairs is a record player with a rack of shiny new looking vinyl records. And on the table by the armchairs is a blank white canvas with a tray of acrylic paint tubes and brushes. It takes Regulus’s breath away. Instantly, he thinks of the library back at his family’s home. It’s probably the only room in his house he’d missed greatly over the years. He always used to read the same book, over and over again. God, he wishes he could read it again…

Instantly, a warmly familiar beige block appears on the cushion of one of the armchairs. “There’s no way…” Regulus hurries over to it, and snatches it up in his hands. His throat burns as he looks at the cover of a book—the book. The very one he’d just been thinking about. And it looked to be the same exact one he’d had in his house all those years ago. 

The book used to be a pearly white, but had darkened due to sun exposure and good use. Thick black outlines created the side profile of a male character, with faded teal waves carved behind him. At the top, in curvy, italicized letters, read: A Wizard of Earthsea. Regulus clutches the book in his hands. He hadn’t seen it since he moved out of his house. He thought he’d never see it again. The book had been owned by a Muggle boy near the outskirts of town. Regulus had known him well—well enough that they called each other best friends. Tim; his name was Tim. 

Timmy had gifted the book to him on his birthday. He told Regulus it was his favorite story of all time, or at least, it was his mother’s. It was his bedtime story every night. And Tim told Regulus all the wondrous dreams he’d had after going to sleep while listening to his mother’s voice narrating the story of Ged, who’s face had been illustrated on the cover. 

“Is it good?” James asks. His voice startles Regulus; he’d forgotten he was even there. “Oh…it’s the best,” he answers. Regulus sits down in an armchair, and James takes his spot in the other one. James leans his elbow on his knees, and holds his face in his palm, looking at Regulus blissfully. “What’s it about?” James asks. 

And that’s all it takes for Regulus to ramble on and on about the book of his childhood. He’d read it first aged ten. He resonated with Ged, the main character. He told James all about how Ged was an arrogant young wizard who thought he was the most powerful in the world. His cockiness creates a plague over his world, called the Shadow. During the events of the book, Ged has to grow up and realize that he must accept his imperfections, so that he can overcome his darkness. Regulus told James it helped keep him on the right path, away from his parents’ horrendous beliefs. The book means so much to him because it made him feel that he and Sirius weren’t alone in combating their family’s poor societal values. 

It held a strong chokehold on him that he never even remembered loosening in the first place. Until now. Telling James about it makes his heart swell. It’s a part of him that he’d never told to anybody else before, not even Sirius. Sirius wasn’t too much of a reader. James, however, listened intently. He asked questions about the characters and plot, and about how certain parts of the story made Regulus feel. He understood Regulus at that moment. And that made Regulus’s body steam up like a pile of hot rocks. 

James Potter really does care. 

He gets up from the armchair to file through the records. Most are black and shiny, but some are red and green. James grabs a black one. “Gimme a second,” he says over his shoulder. He places the record on the player, and starts to position the needle to a very specific spot on the grooves. Regulus sets the book on his lap. “Is it good?” He asks. James gives him a small smile. When he thinks he gets it, he drops the needle. “The best,” he answers. 

A static sounds off for a moment, before a heavy guitar and drums circulate the air. Regulus isn’t too sure who the artist is, but it’s obvious that it screams James Potter. It’s grungy, which wouldn’t be expected by people who don’t know him well. But the voice, the instrumental, the beat, everything was exactly what it should be. Regulus actually enjoys it. And it reminds him of a song that Sirius would listen to. Which could be one of the many reasons why his brother and James are best friends. 

“Alice in Chains,” James says dreamily, picking up the needle. Regulus hums. The name sounds familiar. “Did my brother show that to you?” He asks. James stops the record player, and takes a seat back in the armchair. “He sure did. One of his best qualities is his taste in music.” Regulus glances over to the canvas on the table. His body feels warm all of a sudden. He wipes his palms off on his robes. 

“Can I paint you…James?” 

James’s face is unreadable for a moment. Regulus has never called him just by his first name. It was always James Potter, Potter, or my brother’s best friend. Saying it sounds foreign, but it rolls off his tongue easily. It feels personal—intimate. James’s eyebrows raise slightly. “You called me James…” He notices the shift, too. Regulus tries to play it off normally. “Did you not want me to?” He asks. “No, no,” James says a little too quickly, “I like it when you say my name.” 

There’s a beat between them. One indistinguishable, that Regulus can’t place. But he likes it that way. James pushes his glasses up and starts pressing down the wrinkles in his shirt. “Sure. You can paint me,” he says, “Only if I get to keep it after.” Regulus half smiles, looking embarrassed. “You probably won’t want to keep it,” he says. James nods affirmingly. “I promise you, I will.” 

“Are you that conceited?” Regulus asks him, borderline silver eyes sparkling at the sight. “Not about this,” James answers swiftly. He drops his head to smile, which makes his glasses fall back down. He pushes them up. He’s fidgeting, almost as if the nervous version of him is back in all its glory, permanently. “I’d just like to have something that reminds me of you.” 

Regulus, swallowing that rapidly beating heart of his, painted a rushed, yet intricate portrait of James. It looked almost exactly like him. It captured his warm, yet dark eyes, his wistful curls that held no barring for neatness, and his cryptic, selfish smile; the way he’d store secrets to himself from behind it. He’s beautiful. And Regulus’s hands were shaking the entire time. James tried to sit still, but Regulus told him it was okay to move around a bit. 

When he was finished, he hesitantly turned it over to show James. It’s silent for a few seconds before James makes a stifled gasp. “That’s literally me,” he says in awe. He looks up at Regulus with the canvas in his hands. “You’re per—,” James then talks over his own words, “It’s perfect. You’re really talented. I love it.” Before Regulus’s mind can run away with the mess up, James gets up to put the painting next to his cloak and map. “And I’m definitely keeping it,” James says. 

They spent the rest of the night there together. Regulus read A Wizard of Earthsea to James, while his records played quietly in the background. Regulus started getting tired after five chapters, about halfway through the book. James seemed very into it, though. He asked Regulus to finish it for him soon. Regulus promised he would. After a while, they replaced the armchairs with a bed. This time, Regulus didn’t complain that there was only one. 

He still slept with his back to James, but he wasn’t hanging off the bed this time. He could feel the warmth of James’s body a little ways away, still not touching him, but still close enough to think about how close he was, and how much closer he could still get. 

When Regulus stirs awake, he can feel his head resting on something stiff. His eyes open, and adjust to the cozy lights. The unmistakable smell of James engulfs him. He brings his hand out from under his cheek to sit up. His hand meets with James’s chest. Regulus’s breath hitches. Slowly, he sits up, and scoots away from James. 

James moves around some, and his eyes twitch. A ball forms in Regulus’s throat. Had he slept on him? Had he known? He wants to get up and leave before James wakes up, but it’s too late. James sits up with a long stretch, and yawns deeply. He reaches for his glasses and puts them on. His hair is sticking up unruly in every direction. His cheek is flushed and swollen from sleeping on one side. His clothes are wrinkled and disheveled. 

Regulus doesn’t understand how they could do the same exact things, and James will end up looking like a wreck, and Regulus still neat and tidy. Though, his wreckage looked perfect. James rubs his eyes under his glasses, and gives Regulus a soft smile. “Did you sleep well?” James asks him, voice gravelly from sleep. Regulus can barely breathe. The culmination of James’s morning voice and scent plagues him severely. He can’t cope, not like this. “Yeah…You?” 

James swings his legs off the bed, and shakes his hands in his hair, only for it to fall just the same way, albeit slightly tamer. James hums. They get themselves ready, all dressed back in their school robes. James, energy already high and bouncy for an early morning, wraps the portrait of him in his invisibility cloak. “Do you want me to walk you back? Or do you still not want to be seen with me?” He asks playfully. He doesn’t sound hurt, but once again, his eyes tell a different story. 

Regulus feels his face flush. “If you want to, you can,” he answers. “Well, I didn’t ask what I wanted. What do you want?” He counters. Regulus nibbles on his lips nervously. He tries his best to keep up his impatient front. “Just—Hurry up, okay?” He says, feigning annoyance. They only pass a few students on their way to the Slytherin common room. It’s still pretty early. Regulus kept glancing down at James’s hand. He’d never do anything but think about it—he’d never dare let the words leave his lips. Not since they were about James Potter. But, Regulus really, really wanted to hold his hand. 

When they finally get to the stone wall that held the Slytherin door magically behind it, the two stand there awkwardly. “Thanks,” Regulus says finally. James nods eagerly. “Not a problem.” He looks around, and decides to say more. “Do you…want to meet me tomorrow night?” Regulus’s heart skips a beat. He forces himself to hesitate because he doesn’t want to look desperate. He acts like he’s thinking about it before nodding. “Sure. Where?” 

“Library entrance. Around ten?” James raises it up as a question. Regulus nods once more. He can’t help the blooming grin that spreads across his face. “See you then,” he says quietly. James says goodbye, and Regulus wants him to come right back. He mutters the Slytherin password, and ducks into the door to his common room. 

Regulus was a year younger than Sirius and his friends. He almost never saw them around school, except for the scarce times he’d gone to the Quidditch Pitch to watch the games when Slytherin wasn’t on the field. He’d see James whenever they’d play against each other. He spent all his classes wishing for time to pass by, and daydreaming about what James had in store for the two of them. During dinner in the Great Hall, Regulus kept peeking across the room to the Marauders. A funny little nickname, Regulus thinks. But it fits them. 

James smacks Sirius on his back, and he chokes on his food. He reactively grabs a fork, and moves to hit James with it. James cackles, and his laughter flies up and around the Great Hall ceiling. It warms Regulus’s chest. He can hear their echoing voices: “Don’t move so I can stab you!” Yells Sirius, to which James shouts, “You wish!” 

Regulus suddenly feels hollow. He wished he had friends like that. Now, at the Slytherin table, everyone was sitting stoic and pretty. They chimed quietly amongst themselves, almost with their noses held up in the air. Everyone basked in what they liked to think was superiority. But it was ridiculous—all their beliefs; his mother’s beliefs. He’s glad he doesn’t think the same way, but… He wishes he could act on it. He wishes he could be more like his brother: changing the Black family history, being sorted into Gryffindor, having two best friends who are loved and cherished like family—living. His brother is free. Regulus wants to be like that. 

He looks longingly at the three of them. James is on his feet, dodging close blows from Sirius and his fork. Remus watches them disapprovingly, but there’s a small, content grin on his face. He looks at Sirius with sparkling eyes. Regulus remembers the first night he’d turned up at the Gryffindor common room; how James wouldn’t allow him to go into their dorm room. He sighs, holding his chin in his hand. James’s laugh carries in the air again, raiding Regulus’s ears like a raging war. 

It’s only now that it dawns on him: If he continues to go on like this, he will be royally fucked. 

Finally, after what feels like eternity, nightfall comes. At a quarter past nine, Regulus slips out of his bed, and makes his way out of the common room. The corridors are stale and cold. Every step he takes, the sound echoes off into the night. He carefully makes his way up to the library. Other than two of the House Ghosts engrossed in a conversation, Regulus doesn’t run into any trouble. He gets there a little past ten. 

He doesn’t see James there initially, but remembers that he’s probably under the cloak. Regulus raises his arm out in front of him, and lightly swishes at the air. With a flailing wrist, he moves all around the library doors. Until finally, his hand smacks something, and a voice softly says, “Ouch.” Regulus grasps at the fabric, and tugs it off. 

James tousles his hair with a goofy smile. “How’d you know I was there?” James didn’t wear his school robes. Instead, he had on his uniform; smudged slacks and a wrinkled, unbuttoned white shirt. His scarlet and gold tie is unhooked and askew. He tries fixing it, but it flops back down in the same spot. “You’re predictable,” Regulus answers. He looks to the doors of the library. “What are we doing here?” 

“If I’m so predictable, how about you tell me?” Okay, now it’s impossible to not admit that James is, in fact, charming. Regulus stays silent, eyeing him under the sconce light. James looks satisfied by the non-answer. He slides away from the doors. “What’s your favorite subject?” James asks. Regulus tilts his head. He’s confused, but answers anyway. “Probably… I dunno, I really do like Astronomy.” James’s eyes dilate, or maybe it just looks as if they did, Regulus can’t tell. 

James turns to a golden knickknack case next to the main doors. He pulls open the small, glass doors, and rummages inside of it. “Mooney snagged me this after his Alchemy class,” James explains, grabbing hold of something and showing it to Regulus. It’s a guide book on astronomy constellations: A Chance To See the Stars. In smaller text, it says, “An understanding of constellations and all their stars.” Regulus raises his brows. 

“So, I’m not too big of a reader… But, I was up all night reading through my Astronomy textbook. I barely got any sleep, with how thick it is,” he rambles in an even tone. He tosses his hair around again, as it seems to be a force of habit. “Okay… I might have asked Sirius your favorite subject,” he confessed. Regulus stifles a smile. “When he said it was Astronomy, Remus said he’d read the perfect beginners book in the library his first year. Which, I wouldn’t be caught dead in a library—I know I don’t really pay much attention in classes, but I really can’t believe how much material they’ve given us with Astronomy. Anyways—,” 

James pauses, noticing how he’d started rambling again. “So, I ended up reading this today, and I put it in here so that we could have it after the library closed,” he explains further. Regulus nods. He knew James always did stuff to bend and break the school rules. It seemed to excite him. And now, it’s been exciting Regulus, too. Or maybe, just being with James is the exciting part. “Anyways… This book is all we came here for. Now we can go to the real surprise,” James says. 

Regulus holds up in the invisibility cloak, and James helps him put it on top of both of them. “Are you using the map?” Regulus whispers. The air is hot and sticky under the cloak. Regulus can hear his own heart beating up into his ears. “No, Padfoot needed it tonight,” he says in a hushed voice, “Your brother.” Regulus tries to peer around James’s body to see where they’re headed to. “I know who Padfoot is. You’re Prongs,” he says quickly. 

“Oh… Has Sirius told you?” James questions. “You guys aren’t that secretive about it.” James stops walking to listen to upcoming footsteps. When he doesn’t hear any, he continues. “So you know?” James asks. Regulus doesn’t understand the question. “I know you have nicknames. I don’t know why,” Regulus clears up. It’s quiet for a bit as they creep down a long corridor. After they make a left turn, they reach a moving staircase. “I’ll show you,” James says finally. He turns to look at Regulus under the cloak; he smiles wide. “Sometime soon. Maybe you could get a nickname, too.” Regulus’s heart skips a beat. All he can manage is a nod. 

After many more staircases, and a close call with the caretaker, Pringle, they arrive at the Astronomy Tower. Now, A Chance To See the Stars makes sense. James pulls the cloak off of them. It slides right into his pocket. He takes his wand out, and swishes it at the door handle. Nonverbally, the spell works and the door opens. They sneak inside. “Are we allowed to be in here?” Regulus wonders. James gives a dry chuckle. “No,” he says, turning around to face Regulus, “Did you want to go back to your common room?” Regulus narrows his eyes at him. “Just keep going,” Regulus says stiffly. James grins, and heads over to the ladder in the classroom. 

The ladder leads to a small landing on top of the roof that seventh years use to study black holes and dark matter. Regulus has never been up there. James hoists his sleeves up, and begins to climb the ladder. Hesitantly, Regulus follows, only after James is up at the top, fiddling with the square door in the ceiling. Regulus climbs once James gets the door open. He’s waiting at the top, crouched down with his hand stretching out. Regulus takes it, and James helps pull him up onto his feet. 

Regulus is met with a beautiful sight: James Potter surrounded by the nighttime stars. The sky is a midnight blue, swirling with golden specs and chirps of nearby bugs. But when James moves out of his way to close the door, Regulus feels nauseous. A wave of sick hits him as he looks down at the grounds below him. The Astronomy Tower is the tallest in all of Hogwarts. And, although he didn’t like to admit it, he’s terrified of heights. He snatches the railing with one hand and his knuckles turn white. James is right next to him. He wraps his arm around Regulus’s waist. 

“Don’t worry, love. I’ll make sure you don’t fall.” 

Regulus plunges deep into the depths of fear. Something nasty claws at his stomach and chest. He wants to scream. His face is so hot that flames could dance on his cheeks and he wouldn’t feel the difference. James lightly tugs him, and Regulus lets go of the rail. He guides him across the landing, where a telescope is propped up and aimed at the sky, eager to be used. 

There’s a bench for two behind the telescope. James motions for Regulus to sit down. His arm detaches from Regulus, and he feels as if an ice bucket spills on top of him. “You okay now?” James asks. The cold night air floats carelessly through James’s hair. “I’m fine,” Regulus replies chastely. James turns and starts fiddling with the telescope. “Is that normally up here?” Regulus asks, focusing on James instead of the height. “No,” James chuckles heartily. 

He zooms and moves the telescope around the sky, looking for something. “I pulled some strings to have it tonight,” he says. He takes out the book, and flips through some of the pages. After he’s found the one he wants, he reads it closely. The telescope turns to the right. He pauses, and zooms in further. “So, you like the stars?” Regulus asks. James hums, “I’ve become fond of them as of recently,” he muses. He turns around, and leans on the brick ledge of the castle. With the book in his one hand, he tilts his head, a grin on his face. 

“So…you read Astronomy For Dummies. What did it teach you?” Regulus questions, anxiety reaching as James leans his head back. “Lots of Latin, funnily enough,” he says. “Could you—not stand so close to the edge?” Regulus says nervously. James pushes himself off the stone. “Afraid of heights?” James asks, already knowing the answer. “Yes. How are you not?” He counters. James gives the pages of the book one last look, before closing it. He tosses his hands in his pockets with a shrug. “I’m not afraid of much at all.” 

Regulus scoffs. “You really are an arrogant Gryffindor,” he huffs. James raises his brows. “Arrogant? Me? No one’s ever called me that before,” he says playfully. He makes Regulus smile. “You have to be scared of something,” Regulus presses slightly. James hangs his head, swaying his weight. “If I tell you, you’ll laugh at me,” James says in a small voice. Regulus frowns. “I don’t laugh,” he replies. “You do when I tell a good joke.” 

“It’s only out of pity,” Regulus corrects. James hums. He looks back through the telescope, and stares out of it for a long moment. Regulus finds himself staring at James; his hair, his body, his face, his clothes, everything. He drinks in the sight of him like it’s the sweetest wine. And he’s already drunk, already slipping away. James leans away from the telescope with a long sigh. “I guess…dying too soon.” 

James’s deadpanned voice is a complete contrast from how he normally sounds—bright, happy, and warm. It’s a strange tone coming from him. Regulus only looks at him, surprised that he even told him at all. He starts panicking, assuming that James is going to ask him what more he’s afraid of next. And all Regulus can think of as an answer is: This. I’m terrified of this. 

But James never asks. Instead, he moves slightly away from the telescope and nods to it. “Come give it a look,” he says, and his voice is back dripping with kindness. Feeling woozy, Regulus gets up, and takes a few steps forward to the telescope. He bends down awkwardly, and goes to put a hand on the telescope to steady himself. “Wait—you’ll move it,” James says. Regulus freezes, half looking into the telescope. He feels hands on his waist again. Oh, he’s so terribly fucked. 

Regulus struggles to look through it, preoccupied with battling his inner demons. He’s touching you, he doesn’t mean to. He’s holding you, he’s only making sure I don’t fall. I want to kiss him, no you do not. Regulus shakes as he finally peers up through the glass. Automatically, the shape of stars comes into focus. He knows what he’s looking at; the Leo constellation. But why did James want him to look?

“It’s you,” James says quietly. 

It is him, or at least what he’s named after. It twinkles against the black sky. Regulus slowly pulls away from the telescope. James is already there, looking at him. Though their faces are obscured by the night, Regulus can still see every inch of James. He’s smiling still, though this time it’s much smaller and shy. Regulus’s stomach does somersaults. He becomes dangerously aware of where James’s hands are now. They hold each others’ eyes easily. “Regulus is Leo’s brightest star,” James states, voice wispy and soft. 

The way his name sounds off of James’s tongue feels like a beautiful melody. It’s easy on the ears. James has a lovely voice when he’s not using it to scream at the top of his lungs or pull miraculous, yet ridiculous pranks. And truthfully, Regulus has always had a tough time coping with the sound of James’s voice. But now, as he pronounces his name so deliberately, talking to him and only him, inadvertently calling him the brightest, Regulus doesn’t think he can take it. 

In the slightest, minuscule moment, James leans in closer to him. And Regulus wants him to close the gap between them, he really does. But as their noses almost touch, Regulus rips himself out of James’s grasp—straight out of the moment. He turns his back to James, and holds himself. The icy breeze lashes at his face like a mockery of his cowardice. “We should leave before the sun starts to come up…” And what’s even worse, when James speaks, he can hear the disappointment. 

“Oh… Yeah, sure thing.” 

The walk back to the Slytherin common room is the most awkward thing. Regulus tries hard not to graze against him in any way, which is a hard task while under such a small piece of fabric. James stops a few times, which makes it even harder for Regulus, because James’s scent would waft back into his face, and he’d feel his stomach flip more each time it happened. After what seems like forever, James takes the invisibility cloak off of Regulus, and keeps it held up so that his face can be seen. 

He looks upset, maybe even embarrassed. “Thank you,” Regulus says awkwardly. James presses his lips together in a line, and nods. “Sure,” he says briskly. Regulus turns, and conjures up the door with the password. He hurries through the common room and up to his dorm. His bed looks like heaven right about now. As he slips under the covers, not even bothering to change, he hears a small psst! 

Regulus eyes Barty’s bed near his. “What?” Regulus demands sharply. “Where have you been?” Barty asks immediately. Regulus looks over at Evan, seeing him fast asleep in his own bed. “Nowhere,” Regulus answers. “Really? Nowhere?” Regulus sinks lower into his bed. “Barty, honestly, it’s really none of your business.” 

“What’s wrong with you?” Barty whispers nastily. Regulus furrows his eyebrows. “With me? Nothing’s wrong with me. I just don’t want to tell you where I’ve been,” he says quickly. “I thought you’ve been nowhere,” Barty challenges, sounding bitter. “And I thought you’d be sleeping. You should get back to doing that.”

“Regulus, c’mon,” he pleads hollowly. “No, Barty, you’re annoying. You’re nosy. Just leave me alone.” Barty snorts, and Regulus can hear him shuffle around in his bed, but he refuses to look at him. “Why? Are you snogging some 7th year Gryffindor, or something? It wouldn’t be the first time. Well, for a Gryffindor it would be, but—,” 

“Can you shut the fuck up? Jesus Christ,” Regulus hisses. Evan twists around, a soft snore leaving his lips. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, Regulus,” Barty says, not sounding the least bit caring. Regulus turns over, his back to Barty. “I’ve already been hurt. And it was by you, of all people,” he says hotly. Barty sighs. “C’mon, that’s unfair. It isn’t my fault that I didn’t like you back.” Regulus wants to scream at the top of his lungs. He rips his blankets off of him, and sits up, staring daggers at Barty. “We are not even talking about that. That was three years ago, Barty, fuck.” 

“Then what were you just talking about—?” He sounds lost, and Regulus wishes he could pull his want out and hex him, or at the very least, shut him up. Regulus was obviously referring to Barty and Evan’s new romance, and how they’ve been leaving him out of things recently. But he won’t waste his energy on explaining it to Barty. “Why don’t you talk to me like you used to?” Barty asks. 

“Because I don’t want to. Because I don’t need to.” 

“You don’t need to? Regulus, I’m your only friend.” Regulus feels a burning sensation creep up his throat. “I’d rather have no friends at all than have you be my only one,” Regulus says quickly, voice raising slightly. Barty shrugs. “Fine. Have fun with that, then.” Awkwardly, Barty lays back down, and so does Regulus. He closes his eyes and tries to get some sleep. But all he can do is think about James and now, apparently, having no friends. He did only have one, and Evan by extension. But both him and Barty are so stubborn, they’ll probably go the rest of their lives never speaking to one another again. 

But, then James… He was an idiot for pulling away. Is that what James really wanted? What if he was mad at him? Then Regulus would truly be alone. He couldn’t think about it—life without James Potter. He’s known him for so long, because of his brother. He should’ve just stayed put. He should’ve let it happen. But fear overcame him. 

It controlled him constantly through everyday life. Maybe that’s why Sirius got sorted into Gryffindor; he’s fearless, and doesn’t allow it to consume him like Regulus does. Sometimes, it feels like he can’t help it. It seems like this is the life that the world set out in front of him, and there isn’t anything he can do to derive it. 

Finally, after some hours, Regulus lulls himself to sleep. 

Immediately after breakfast, Regulus leaps from his seat as the Gryffindors file out. He hurries over to Sirius, who’s leading his friends out the door. Regulus squeezes past a group of girls, who giggle after him, and he tugs on Sirius’s school robe. He stops and swivels around. His face brightens when he sees Regulus, and he slides away from all the commotion in the doorway. James and Remus turn, too. James’s lips pull up into a smile. Maybe he isn’t mad. 

“Reggie! How’ve you been, brother?” Sirius asks happily, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Regulus attempts a smile, but it just looks like he’s in pain. “Can I sleep in your guys’ dorm?” He asks quietly. Sirius and Remus look at one another, but before either of them can answer, James opens his mouth. “Again?” He questions. Sirius makes a face, and looks between the two. “What do you mean again?” Sirius asks, “When was the first time?” 

Regulus clears his throat. “I had a fight with Barty last night.” Sirius’s face softens instantly. “Oh no… I’m sorry, Reg. But, you wanna sleep in our dorm?” Regulus nods hopelessly. “Of course you can sleep there,” Remus chimes up, “You can use Peter’s bed. It’s been empty ever since he left.” Sirius looks slightly exasperated, but Remus seems to be certain. “Okay, well… Just—come to the portrait around nine. The password’s changed. Lady was spewing some nonsense about someone trying to break in the past few nights,” Sirius says nonchalantly. 

Regulus and James share a quick glance. “Right. We should get going. We wouldn’t want to miss History of Magic,” Remus says. James groans. “Can we do anything else but go?” He complains. Remus shakes his head. “You can. Sirius and I are going. Right, Pads?” Immediately Sirius nods. “Absolutely. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” With no formal goodbye, the two leave James and Regulus standing there. It’s awkward for a moment. At the Great Hall entrance, the Slytherins are finally taking their leave. He goes on the other side of James. 

“So, erm… How was your night…? Before, y’know, that fight of yours,” James asks, swaying again. He seems to do it only when he’s nervous. Which, coincidentally, only seems to be when he’s around Regulus. “It was…fun. How was yours?” James nods. “Fun,” he answers stiffly. There’s a gleam in his eyes—something like mischief—there’s something he wants to say. 

He does speak, but he doesn’t say exactly what’s on his mind. “Well, you can stay in our dorm room for as long as you’d like,” he says, pushing up his glasses. All the students have filed out of the Great Hall by now. Regulus should be getting to class soon. “Thank you for your permission,” he says. James blinks, and looks embarrassed. “Oh, I didn’t mean—,” he stops talking. Regulus sees a creep of a blush intrude James’s face. Regulus smiles. “I’m joking with you,” Regulus affirms. 

James’s face softens, then he looks embarrassed all over again. He lets out a dry laugh and scratches the back of his head. “Oh, of course. A joke,” he says, “I didn’t know you made jokes.” Regulus shrugs, satisfied with James’s reaction. “Only when they’re about you,” he says playfully. James opens his mouth again, but before he can say anything, Regulus turns on his heel and is off down the corridor. 

Regulus sees Sirius again after classes, just before dinner. Sirius spots him first. “I could see your scowl from a mile away!” Sirius cries, hurrying over to him. “I see you’re away from your werewolf—Or, is he away from you?” Regulus observes coyly, crossing his arms. Sirius looks at him pointedly. “You should learn how to use your inside voice,” Sirius suggests. 

“Why did you come over to me?” Regulus asks. “Oh, right,” Sirius leans in closer and drops his voice, “I spoke to Professor Dumbledore about your…situation. He said it’s perfectly okay to stay in my room, as long as you still get your coursework done and don’t slack off.” Regulus sighs. “Why did you go on and tell the Headmaster?” He asks hopelessly. “Because he understands. He said it’s fine, it’ll be fine. But we’ll have to sneak you in. James has a great way to get in you in, all secretive and such—,”

“His invisibility cloak, yeah,” Regulus says dismissively, waving Sirius off. Sirius freezes, and stares at Regulus with wide eyes. “How did… How do you know about the invisibility cloak?” He asks eagerly. Regulus blinks, and looks everywhere but Sirius. “I just—guessed. It’s just like your abhorrent best friend to have a fictional magical artifact. Why—was I actually right?” 

Sirius stares at Regulus for quite a bit, trying to decide whether or not he’s actually telling the truth. Because he’s his brother, he knows he is not. But he doesn’t push it. “Well, Dumbledore sees to it that we hide you. Or else everybody is going to want to swap common rooms and dormitories. But he said you’re an exception,” he continues. Regulus huffs. “I bet he said you are the exception.” 

“He really does like you, you know,” Sirius says honestly. “Oh, come off it. No one likes me. They all like you,” he retorts. Sirius grimaces at him. “They all like James, Reggie. I’m just along for the ride.” Regulus knows that isn’t exactly untrue. But he’s heard all sorts of students talking Sirius up, especially when they’re simultaneously talking him down. “Well, anyways,” Sirius says, “The new password is Spiced Cinnamon.” 

“I’m not saying that,” Regulus says stubbornly. Sirius rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on!” He exclaims. When he knows Regulus won’t budge from it, he sighs. “Fine. I’ll have James get you from the dungeons. Will that suffice enough for you, Princess?” Regulus grits his teeth at him. “Don’t call me that, for fuck’s sake,” he says heatedly. Sirius waves him off. “You don’t like when I call you anything.” 

“Can’t you just call me by my name?” 

“That’s boring.”

“Well, at least don’t call me Princess.”

“Well, you’re a brat. I thought it fit nicely.” 

Regulus and Sirius have a staring contest of artificial hatred for a moment before Sirius gives up, and blinks. “I’ll send James to get you,” Sirius says, stalking off without another word. Regulus heaves a sigh. He got himself into this one, honestly. He should’ve just said Spiced-fucking-cinnamon. Even then, he’s almost certain the Fat Lady wouldn’t have opened up for him all the same. 

“Your chariot awaits,” James says, arm outstretched to his other arm, where the invisibility cloak lay limp. “Does Sirius know we’ve been hanging out?” Regulus asks him, ripping the cloak off of James’s arm and putting it over his shoulders. “No… Wait, is that what you call it? Hanging out?” James teases. Regulus rolls his eyes. “I don’t even want to know what you’re calling it,” he huffs, and puts the cloak over his head. James leads the way to the Gryffindor common room. 

“Did you want Sirius to know?” James whispers, slightly leaning onto Regulus’s shoulder. “People will think you’re crazy if you keep talking to yourself,” Regulus says pointedly. James smiles. “Not if you keep answering me.” Regulus makes it a point to be silent the rest of the way. They’ve let it slip to Sirius twice now that something has gone on in the background between the two of them. Not that Regulus needs it to be a secret, but it would be nice. He’d finally have something all to himself. Not that he has James all to himself. Because he doesn’t. 

James gets to the Fat Lady portrait, and chats with her for a few moments before confidently saying Spiced cinnamon. When James gets through the portrait hole, Regulus waits until he beckons him through. When Regulus carefully steps over the ledge into the room, it’s pretty loud, with dozens of Gryffindors having conversations, roughhousing, and playing games. It’s starkly different from what the Slytherins do. Not that Regulus spends any time there to begin with. 

Immediately, people try to stop James and call him over to their groups, but James waves them off. “Sorry, guys! I need to go and study for Herbology,” he says. Regulus almost scoffs. And it seems like the rest of the Gryffindors agree, because they aren’t falling for it, either. “Oh, come off it, Potter, you don’t study,” a tall boy says, causing everyone else to laugh. James only grins with a shrug. “You’ve caught me. Remus will be doing the studying for me. I’ll just be pretending to listen.” He waves off anyone else’s calls, and starts up the stairs to the boys’ dormitories. 

When he’s securely inside, with Regulus, he shuts the door. Sirius and Remus are on top of Remus’s bed, staring at James. “Well? Did you get him?” Remus asks. James triumphantly grabs at the cloak and tugs it off Regulus. “Did I get him—Of course I did. No one suspected a thing,” he says. Remus nods. “Good. We ought to keep it that way,” he says cautiously. “Dumbledore already cleared him,” says James. “Yes, to us. He also said no one else can know.” 

“And they won’t. Because we’ll be careful. Right, Reg?” Sirius says, nodding at him. His hair is unkempt and staticky from the cloak. He attempts to push it down, but it’s mostly useless. He sighs. “Yes, Sir,” Regulus says sarcastically. James stifles a laugh. Sirius glares at both of them. “Rule one of staying here,” Sirius says, “You will not give me any of that attitude. Do we have that clear?” 

“Crystal. Can I go to bed now?” Regulus stalks off over to Peter’s empty bed, as he’s already been in here before. Remus and Sirius give a shared look of confusion. “Sure, go on and make yourself at home so soon,” Sirius mutters under his breath. 

Almost as soon as his head hits the pillow, he passes out. He hasn’t been in a bed around people he trusts in years. He knows that while he’s asleep, nothing strange will happen behind his back, and no one will talk about him negatively. Even though the bed is far from his—the mattress is a little mushy, and the pillow is stiff, it still makes him feel better than he has in a long time. 

But the feeling doesn’t seem to last long enough. Because six hours later, around three in the morning, Regulus stirs awake to bickering voices. He hears James first, voice soft and full. “I didn’t tell him about our names. He already knew. He’s smart, y’know.” A scoff comes next, and Regulus can tell that it’s Sirius. “I know he’s smart. He’s my brother.” Regulus tries going back to sleep, not caring that they know he knows about the silly nicknames. “I swear I didn’t tell him anything,” James says. 

This time, the voice is Remus. “Well, he knows now, so it doesn’t really matter how he found out. I say we bring him.” Regulus’s foggy mind starts to clear a bit as he comes to. “What? You’re kidding, Moons,” says Sirius. “I’m not. Why not bring him?” He replies. “I agree,” says James. “Of course you do,” Sirius retorts. “What’s that supposed to mean?” James sounds offended. “It means you always want him to get into trouble with you. You’ve been that way with him since we were kids, dragging him along with your schemes.” 

“Sirius, I’m pretty sure that you’re talking about yourself,” James quips. “What? You don’t drag me along. I choose,” he says. “How do you know he doesn’t also choose?” James asks, feigning innocence. Regulus shoots himself up, and rubs at his eyes. “Can you guys stop fighting about me? I’m trying to sleep,” he says groggily. James gives him warm eyes. “We’re fighting over you,” he corrects. Sirius jabs him in the ribs. “No, we’re not! There’s nothing to fight over,” he says agitatedly. “Then why are you fighting back?” James asks. “I’m not. I—,” Before Sirius can finish his remark, Remus is pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, guys, the night’s losing us. We should get going.”

“Going where?” Regulus asks. He yawns. James hurries over to his bed, and leans down in front of him with a toothy grin. “Get out of bed, and follow us. You’ll need the cloak,” he says. Regulus looks behind him at Sirius and Remus, almost like he’s waiting for their permission. “If any of us were to get in trouble, it shouldn’t be you,” Remus says earnestly. Begrudgingly, Regulus gets out of bed, and his arm swishes against James’s as he passes him. Regulus sees the cloak on James’s trunk; he grabs it. “Okay,” he says, facing the three of them, “lead the way.”

For the first time since he’s known it existed, Regulus is able to see the map’s use at its full capacity. It’s a neat device, and seems to help out a lot at sneaking around, which is exactly what he thought he didn’t like doing. But, he has to admit, there is some excitement about it. He just wishes he wasn’t under the invisibility cloak. As cool as it is, he’d like to experience this just as James, Sirius, and Remus do. He’d like to be at the same level of risk; he thinks that way, he’d feel more included. 

The walk is relatively silent, with only a few directions from James, who’s holding the map. Sirius makes a few interjections, but James allows him. He apparently knew more shortcuts than James did. They make it all the way down to the ground floor. As they pass the Great Hall, however, James freezes. He holds a hand up, and they all stop in their tracks. There’s an echoing voice a little ways down the corridor. “—bloody useless, vile beasts…” 

James and Sirius rush to hide behind a trophy case. Remus glances in the general area where Regulus is, and tips his head to the Great Hall. Regulus follows him. “Where are you—?” Sirius whisper-yells, but stops when Remus is already through the crack in the doors. Regulus is right behind him. Remus turns, and lightly pushes the doors closed. “He doesn’t come in here,” Remus whispers knowingly, “Argus Filch.” Regulus hums. The newest caretaker—a creepy looking old man with no magical abilities. He’s a squib, which normally, all Slytherins (and some Ravenclaws) treat him horribly because of it. Regulus couldn’t care any less. He just doesn’t understand why a squib would want to be a caretaker at a magical school. Seems like more work for him. 

“How do you know?” Regulus asks quietly. “He isn’t allowed after dinner. Pringle gets upset,” he says, peering through the small crack. Footsteps echo from right outside, and pause. Remus doesn’t move. After some time, Filch continues his grumbling. “Rubbish, disgusting little creatures, I say…” He passes by the Great Hall. Remus waits a little longer, until he can’t hear anything at all. His hearing seems to be much better than Regulus’s, because he was barely able to hear Filch when he was just outside the door. 

After two minutes of waiting, Remus finally opens the door. “Let’s go,” he says. Regulus follows him out, and they meet back up with James and Sirius at the front door to the school. James is laughing happily. “That was close,” he’s saying to Sirius, who looks a bit more uptight. “Too close,” Sirius says, “did you not see him on the damned map?” James holds the map in question out in front of him. “I did, I did! That’s why I stopped,” he says defensively. “After he was right in front of us?” Sirius demands. He snatches the map from James. 

“You clearly can’t be trusted with this,” he says. James shrugs, his goofy smile remaining justly on his face. Remus guides Sirius over to the door handle. “Mischief managed,” Sirius grumbles, and pockets the map and his wand. Regulus takes the cloak off, and hands it to James. “Having fun?” He asks. Regulus crosses his arms. “Totally…” James reaches his hand up, and starts smoothing down Regulus’s curls. At first, he flinches from his touch, but soon relaxes. “I like your hair like this,” James comments, pinching some strands here and there, “it looks cute.”

Regulus eyes the back of Sirius’s head, but he luckily isn’t paying them any attention. He’s whispering closely with Remus about something. “Do you mind?” Regulus hisses, and swats James off of him. “Sorry, I don’t,” James says casually. Regulus tries to avoid his eyes, but they seem to chase him around, until he’s stuck in his hold. It’s like a magnet pulls his focus only towards him, and nowhere else. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t look away. “Maybe you should start working on that, then,” Regulus suggests. 

James shrugs. “I don’t know, it seems like hard work… Maybe you could help me with it,” he says provocatively. It does something to Regulus’s stomach. He tries his best to ignore it. James just stares into him, eyes hazy and unfocused. Mostly to save himself (he hasn’t taken a breath in the past thirty seconds), he clears his throat and calls Sirius’s name. He turns to meet his brother’s eyes. “We’re just going through the front door?” He asks. 

“Where else would you presume?” He questions, confused. Regulus blinks, and forces his feet to move from James’s side. He joins Sirius and Remus at the door. “How often do you guys sneak out of the castle?” He wonders, looking at Remus for the honest answer. “Not that often,” Sirius says. Remus shrugs. “About every other day,” he says in contrast. Sirius gapes, looking betrayed. “I don’t know why you insist on lying to him all the time,” Remus says. 

“It—it’s not lying. I just—Reggie is… He’s a kid, I don’t want him—,” Regulus interrupts him. “I’m not a kid,” he insists. Sirius puts his hand up to silence him. “I don’t want him to do anything stupid like us,” he finishes. James pops up behind them. “I never do anything stupid,” he says confidentially. “That’s all you ever do,” Sirius bickers back. Before they get started, Remus separates them, and gets the door unlocked. Once again, it’s nonverbally. But, Remus also never took out his wand. 

Regulus is pretty good at nonverbal spells, but he’s never seen wandless magic be done at the school. And for a seventeen year old to do it so easily was commendable—impressive, even. The four of them slip out of the doors, and Remus closes them. They go down the stone steps, James leading the way. They aren’t using the map, Regulus notices. He assumes there’s no reason to, now that they’re out of the castle. 

They pass the gamekeeper’s hut in a rush. Hurrying down the tall hills, they begin to approach the Whomping Willow tree. And this is where Regulus stops biting his tongue. Slightly out of breath, he makes his way behind James. “You guys aren’t expecting me to pass by this tree, are you?” He asks, looking between the three of them. “Merlin, no,” Sirius says instantly. Regulus gains a little relief before it shatters right in front of him. “We’re expecting you to go inside.” 

Regulus has to laugh, because what? Were they insane? Well, he knew Sirius and James were insane, but Remus, too? “You just got done saying you don’t want me doing stupid things,” he reminds Sirius, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, this isn’t stupid,” James says, “it’s necessary.” Sirius nods. “Necessary for what?” Regulus demands, glancing at the swishing tree. 

No one answers him. “I’m not going near that thing,” he decides. “It’s okay, really. Dumbledore planted it,” James says, as if that’s somehow supposed to make Regulus suddenly feel okay about going inside of a dangerously violent magical tree. “Then he planted a death trap,” Regulus mutters. “I’d hope so,” Sirius chimes in, “it’s supposed to keep people from going inside.” 

Regulus can feel his patience thinning. “Wow. Only the very thing you just told me to do,” Regulus throws his face in his hands helplessly. “It won’t hurt you, Regulus,” Remus explains in a comforting voice, “This is the place I go during full moons. Dumbledore saw to it that no one would get hurt during my…transformations.” 

“He saw to it that you were safe,” Sirius says, looking at Remus expressly. “You just…sleep inside a tree all night long?” Regulus asks. “Enough questions. Can’t you just be quiet?” Sirius asks pleadingly. “I’m never anything but quiet,” Regulus mumbles with a frown. “Keep it that way until we get there,” Sirius says. “We aren’t even there yet? Here isn’t there?” Sirius ignores him. He marches up the hill towards the Whomping Willow. Regulus winces as Sirius gets nearer. 

Remus hurries up behind him. The tree doesn’t even flinch at their appearance. Sirius gets up to the trunk, and crouches down towards the grass. He ducks into the wood, and he disappears. The same thing happens with Remus. Regulus blinks. He’s suddenly aware he’s once again left alone with James. “Where did they go?” He asks. “Inside the tunnel,” James says as-a matter-of-factly. So…now the tree has a tunnel? Is there anything these three haven’t discovered or created or even seen? 

“No one ever gets close enough to notice the passageway,” James explains. Regulus stiffens. His feet are rooted to the spot, and he imagines himself to be just as stuck into the ground as the Whomping Willow itself. “Come on,” James says welcomingly, offering his hand. Regulus stares down at it, too terrified to take it. He really doesn’t feel like ending his life early by a killer tree. 

Gingerly, James’s hand takes Regulus’s, and his fingers sink in between his, interlocking them. “It won’t hurt you, love,” James promises softly. Regulus’s knees melt. Why has he called him that twice now? And why hasn’t Regulus corrected him—told him not to? Regulus swallows nervously. His heart is beating a hundred miles a second. It has to be, with how much his chest hurts and eardrums throb. James squeezes his hand encouragingly. 

James starts off towards the tree, tugging Regulus along with him. Immediately, when he gets close to it, his shoulders raise up to his ears. “Relax,” James says. The wind wrestles through them, shaking the Whomping Willow’s leaves briskly. Regulus stares up at it with wide eyes. It doesn’t advance on him, or try to attack him. He’s heard many stories about students having to be rushed to the hospital wing because of this thing. But now, it stands shifty eyed, yet subdued. 

As they reach the base of its trunk, Regulus can see a small opening in its wood expand. “Watch your head. Are you afraid of small spaces?” He asks, “probably should’ve asked that sooner.” Regulus’s mouth’s as dry as a desert. “Claustrophobic? No,” Regulus says, distracted by the growing passageway. The hole gives a glimpse of a dark abyss. Regulus isn’t scared of the dark, either. But it still isn’t the most appealing thing, crawling head first into a mysterious hole at the bottom of an ancient tree. 

“Do you want to go first?” James asks. Regulus licks his lips. He takes a breath before nodding decisively. James hums. “I’ll be right behind you,” he tells him. He unlatches their hands, which Regulus had forgotten he was even holding. Without it there, he immediately felt the absence of warmth and security. He’s realized now that almost two mornings ago, he’d thought about holding James’s hand. And back then, what seemed like so long ago now, he thought it’d be the most daunting task—a chore that he’d only ever be able to dream about doing. But the real thing felt nothing short of ease. It felt right. 

But it’s gone. And now Regulus has to go on his hands and knees and cram himself inside the Whomping Willow’s trunk. “It’s a bit of a walk,” James pipes up behind him, “but once you get into the tunnel, you can stand up straight.” Regulus carefully gets on his knees, and dips his head inside the opening. “It’s pitch black,” he says aimlessly. “It’s a slight drop. I normally slide, so that my feet hit the bottom first,” James says, “Mooney’s probably got light down there for us.” 

Regulus swings himself around so that his feet are first. He pushes off the grass, and his body plunges down into the passageway. A sharp gasp falls off his lips as he stumbles down the winding space. His head bangs against the shoveled walls of dirt. Somewhere along the way, he’d gotten flipped around, and tumbles out of the small hole. He slips, and flies on his back, head smacking the dense dirt underneath him with a final clunk. He feels nauseous, and dizzy. 

But right above him, Remus and Sirius look down at him with a lit up wand tip. “Are you alright?” Remus asks. Regulus struggles to get to his feet. He smacks the loose dirt off of his clothes, and begins to shake it all out of his hair. When he goes to heave a sigh of relief for getting through that horrid experience, something larger than him knocks into him from behind. He trips and stumbles forward. Sirius catches him on his shoulders. “James—Jesus, watch it,” Sirius says. Regulus turns around to him with a dirty look. Under the wand light, James looks ethereal. He beams at Regulus, and all his previous agitation seeps away within a second. 

“Let’s get going,” Remus says, turning to lead the way down the tunnel. And James was right; the tunnel is much taller and wider than the initial passageway. They have a lot of space to walk, at least three of them could fit shoulder to shoulder comfortably. But Remus and Sirius stay in the front, while Regulus and James keep behind them. Apparently, “a bit of a walk” means ten whole minutes. And during that time, none of them answered any of Regulus’s questions on where they were going, where the tunnel led, and what they’d be doing after they got out of it. And he really started to get on Sirius’s nerves, but James was more than happy to keep hearing his voice. 

At the end of the tunnel is another door. Sirius climbs through it first, then Remus. “No way the Headmaster allows all this,” Regulus says incredulously. “He insists on it. Have you ever seen a human transform into a werewolf?” James asks. Regulus doesn’t answer, because he obviously hasn’t. “Watch your head here, too,” James adds, passing Regulus and going through the doorway. Regulus steps inside, and ducks his head down under the arch. 

This opening is much smaller, almost a perfect match to the tumbling wormhole Regulus had just been subject to. He watches James’s backside disappear into the ceiling. Regulus digs his sneakers into the dirt, and tries pulling himself up. He didn’t like getting his hands dirty, but it was basically needed for him to get up through the hole. He claws at the mound, and stretches his arms. Thankfully, he only has to pull himself up halfway, because James is there, mirroring just how he was at the Astronomy Tower. 

James helps him up, and Regulus smacks dust and dirt off of him. He looks around him, and his mouth falls open slightly. The place was an absolute wreck. Furniture is thrown askew, pieces broken into twos or threes. The wallpaper has dozens of claw marks over them. The chandelier above them has half blown out bulbs, illuminating the room poorly. The room is pretty large, though. It has a full floor plan, with a family room, kitchen, and dining room. Though, all the walls are nonexistent, only tile for the kitchen and empty cupboards. A row of wooden stairs lead up into the second floor. 

“Where are we?” Regulus asks. Sirius goes over to the abandoned kitchen, which seemed to be the “room” with the least amount of damage. He bends down in one of the cupboards and pulls out a jug of what Regulus assumes to be butterbeer. “The Shrieking Shack,” Remus answers stiffly. Regulus hesitates to even move, as the floorboards look like they’re about to curl over and give up on supporting all their weights at any second. 

“And where is that?” Regulus presses. James meets Sirius and throws his cloak on the countertop. “Hogsmeade,” Sirius says briskly, still annoyed by his constant questions. James removes his school robe, and his tie. He walks back over to Regulus. “I have something to show you, remember?” He says softly. Regulus grows excited. “Why you’re called Prongs?” He asks hopefully. Sirius pours a little of the jug into a foggy glass. He downs it like it’s a burning shot. “And why I’m Padfoot,” he includes. 

“I thought you were Padfoot because you act like a mutt,” Regulus says, quivering an eyebrow. James bursts out with a laugh. Sirius glares at him narrowly, trying to send a warning, though Regulus pretends he doesn’t receive it. “Just…don’t freak out, okay?” James says, backing away from Regulus. He looks between Sirius and Remus. Sirius nods to James, as an okay to go on with it. With what, Regulus has no idea. 

But he doesn’t have to wait long to find out. It was quite a grotesque sight for the first few seconds. James’s face had contorted; his nose grew into a long snout, his glasses melted into his face, and his eyes lifted and pulled apart. His back hunched over, and he’s on all fours. Only, his legs and arms become skinny as sticks. Hooves replace his shoes and fingers. His clothes seep down into his skin, which has now become short fur. Bones start growing out of the top of his head, making prong like antlers. 

Regulus stares, awestruck and weirded out at the same time. With a complete transformation, James stands there, now as a stag. He’s a deer; he’s an animagus. Regulus feels a lump in his throat. He has no idea what to say. He has no idea why James would go through all the trouble to become one at all. And—Oh God, he isn’t even registered, is he? Where James’s glasses used to sit loosely is now a darker trace of brown, acting as thick rims over the fur. His antlers curve and coil to resemble his curly hair. And there are several spots over the rest of his fur, causing Regulus to think about how those are portrayed on his human body. 

“You’re scaring the boy, James,” Remus says, a slight twang in his voice that sounds like amusement. Regulus turns to see what his brother has to say about all this, but his brother is no longer himself. Instead, he’s changed too, though not into a deer. He’s a shaggy, scrumpy black dog. If he weren’t so freaked out, he’d laugh. Of course his brother gets saddled with the ugliest looking dog in the world. Padfoot. Of course. Padfoot and Prongs. 

Regulus stares at Remus with wide, demanding eyes. Remus chuckles. “He gets the idea,” he says to the other two. And, luckily, in the split second it took for Regulus to look back at them, they’re back as if they’d never changed at all. James is still in his buttoned shirt and slacks, and Sirius in his full uniform. James has a glinting smile on his face. And he can’t help himself from jumping onto the questions. 

“Why are you animagi? Sirius, why didn’t you tell me? The process is difficult! How did you two pull it off? Is this what you guys go off and do all night? You just become a deer and an ugly dog?” Sirius looks hurt by the last part. “It was a difficult process. And we pulled it off because we’re clever,” Sirius answers promptly. “I dunno about clever,” Regulus counters. “Hey. You asked, I answered. And watch that attitude.” 

“It’s wicked, isn’t it?” James says giddily. His excitement rubs off onto Regulus without any protest from him. He couldn’t help it; James’s positivity was far too grand to not plague him down to the core. “It’s definitely…something,” Regulus says. James takes it, going over to a busted up sofa and plopping down with a content grin. “So…why?” Regulus asks, looking directly at Sirius. Begrudgingly, he complies. He told Regulus about Remus being a werewolf and all, and how they’d felt bad he had to go through it all alone. So, James, Sirius, and Peter had worked hard to become animagi to ease and comfort Remus during each of his transformations. They’d come here, so that they were all safe and together. And they’d wait the night out. 

“And then we’d come out on nights when it wasn’t a full moon,” Remus says fondly, “just to…be together.” It’s a sweet notion, really. He’s just annoyed that Sirius didn’t tell him about it. It would’ve been cool to have been with them all, only at fourteen. Being sixteen now, he’s missed a lot of good times and intricate magic. But mostly, he’s just missed out on his brother. And James. Sirius said he didn’t tell Regulus because he would’ve wanted to come along, and it was too dangerous. The animagus potion could go very wrong if not done correctly. They said it took them an extra two years to get Peter on the same level with it. Remus also said that being around humans while in his werewolf state isn’t the best idea. 

All the same, Regulus knows why the silly nicknames are so silly to begin with. And he remembers the way James’s eyes glistened when he said Regulus could have a nickname, too, sometime. Though it sounds riveting, he wasn’t sure he was ready to attempt such a daunting prospect. Sure, he’s smart, but it’s a big commitment. And he didn’t even know all the details, just what the professors have taught him. 

They spend the rest of the time talking, drinking, and telling Regulus all kinds of stories from their fourth, fifth and sixth years. Regulus couldn’t ignore how passionate and hearty James would get during those moments, whether he was telling the story or not. He really was a magical thing, not just literally. In that one night, Regulus had never felt so close with his brother, and his friends. He’s known James for a very long time, but he never knew he could get so close with him that he’d be recognized as James’s friend, and not just Sirius’s little brother. It was a nice change of pace. 

Around six, they all crept their way back through the school. Regulus still used the cloak, due to James’s pleas. When they got back into the dorm room, Regulus was the only one who went back to sleep. He only woke back up when Sirius woke him himself, telling him he’d missed breakfast. He told him to get up and go to class; “The bed will still be here when you get back. It isn’t going anywhere,” he’d said. 

Despite having a wrecked sleeping pattern, the day goes by in a flash. Regulus just needed to get through Potions. Though, when he sits down at his desk, Professor Slughorn’s board says one word that makes his stomach drop to the floor: Amortentia. He’d been so focused with his recent escapades with James that he’d forgotten they’d be learning about this today. The professor had given them a heads up about it last week. Regulus feels miserable as Barty and Evan sit at the desk in the front. They’re lightly shoving each other, and Evan is laughing. 

Regulus sits in the back, alone, as he normally does. No one ever wants to sit next to him because he’s who he is. Not that it bothers him; he likes the solitude. Unfortunately, he isn’t invisible to Professor Slughorn. They get started almost immediately, the professor guiding them all through the steps to how someone would get to brewing it. Some are writing notes, others are just talking through his instruction. Regulus sits with his chin in his palm, anxious. 

“Now, I’ve already gotten some brewed here. I will come over and pour some in a beaker for you all. Give it a whiff—do not drink it—then write down what it is you smell. After, please write down a detailed description of the color and consistency, and what you believe the potion could be used for in an everyday situation. List some of the effects of the potion as well. These will be turned in by the end of the class. You may begin once I give you your sample.” 

When he gets over to Regulus, he smiles at him kindly. “You’re quite the quiet one today,” he points out in a small voice. Regulus shrugs. Professor Slughorn gently pours some of the potion into his own beaker. Regulus offers him a grimace, and he moves on to the next student. Regulus sighs, and sits up to examine the potion. It’s pearlescent in color, with whites, pinks, and blues swirling about. Regulus writes that down. He picks it up, and circles it. He notes down the consistency as best he can. 

Regulus is barely breathing. He writes down all the dangerous effects of drinking the potion after reading the section in his book. And he scribbles down an everyday situation that reflects danger: Using the potion on someone to force love. With three quarters of his parchment filled with descriptions, he now needs to smell it. He looks around at everyone else. The Slytherin girls seem to be more excited about it, giggling and chatting quietly amongst their partners. “I smell cherries,” one girl says. The other gasps, “Terrence loves cherries! Maybe it’s meant to be,” she exclaims. “Oh hush, now,” the other girl mumbles. She begins to play with her hair. 

“It smells like saline…” A Ravenclaw says to Regulus’s right. Another Ravenclaw snorts. “Maybe you fancy Madam Pomfrey,” they snarled. Regulus licks his lips before bringing the glistening potion up to his nose. He slowly inhales, allowing the amalgamation of scents to fill his lungs. Oddly enough, he feels comforted instead of petrified. He knew who it would smell like. But he thought the confirmation would make him want to shrivel up and die. It doesn’t. Rather the opposite, he feels validation. 

James Potter smells like quite a few things. First, an overpowering smell of wood ashes; like a fire that had been burning endlessly hot for years. Singed, and steely, it’s like sitting in front of a warming, cozy fireplace. Regulus smells fleece next—something soft. Maybe even fur. It’s as comforting as a heavy duvet. Another smell: it’s citrusy and sour. After a few seconds, Regulus is able to identify it as lemon drop candies, the very same scent from James’s bedroom. 

There’s a hint of a starchy smell; something that resembles hair product. Regulus remembers that James’s father invented some popular hair potion—which is ironic, considering how messy James’s hair always is. The final scent smells just like the cold night air: cynical, yet blunt. It’s a sharp smell, like that of standing outside and looking up to watch the stars glitter in the sky. Regulus closes his eyes. It’s as if the sun just came out after the roughest thunderstorm. He could almost hear the birds chirping, and the sun beating down on gardens and blacktops. He feels entirely warm; having James was like the sweetest embrace—loving James…

“Smell good?” 

Regulus nearly jumps out of his skin. An involuntary yelp tumbles off his lips. He stares, panicked and wide eyed, at the empty seat next to him. His outburst causes everyone in the room to look over at him. “Everything alright, Mr. Black?” Professor Slughorn asks worriedly. Regulus swallows, gasping for air. He looks over to Barty, who’s rolling his eyes and whispering to Evan. “Oh—yeah. Everything’s…fine,” he says unconvincingly. For a few long moments, all eyes are still on him. Until the professor briefly claps, and slowly, the room fills back up with noise and chatter.

When Regulus is sure that no one is staring at him, he looks back to his right. He was very certain that the voice he’d heard belonged to James. Regulus narrows his eyes. With a force, he punches at the air at his side. There’s a small “Oof,” which confirms Regulus’s suspicions. He ducks down so that no one can see him. “What the fuck are you doing, James?” He hisses quietly. The empty stool screeches slightly. James had met him down on the floor under the desk. He flips up the top of his invisibility cloak. “There’s that name again…” He says dreamily. 

“Well, it’s yours, isn’t it?” 

“It is, indeed. You should say it more.” 

Regulus peeks up over his desk to check that they’re alone—as alone as they could be. He comes back down and eyes James. “You should give me more reasons to,” he says. And James knew exactly what he meant by that. Regulus is flirting. Which isn’t a good sign, not at all. Regulus never flirts—has never flirted. Before James can give a reply, Regulus stands back up and sits down in his chair. He picks up his quill to make it look like he’s doing something. 

“So… Who is it that you smell?” James whispers; he’d occupied the seat next to Regulus, back to being fully camouflaged. He’s leaning in so close that Regulus can practically feel the weight of his body against his. “Will you please leave?” Regulus says quietly. He mindlessly scribbles ink down on a second parchment. He keeps looking up at the class, paranoid. “It’s a weird thing, Amortentia,” James continues, still whispering. Regulus coughs to cover up his voice, though the class is already so loud from the excitement and giddiness of the potion that it’s unnecessary. 

“I smelled berry,” James mutters. Regulus swats at him, earning another “Oof.” A deep, anxious frown settles in Regulus’s face. His hand dives into his mess of hair. “Shut up,” he huffs. “I asked you a question,” James murmurs. Regulus takes a deep breath to keep himself from making another scene. “I heard you. I just don’t want to answer,” Regulus says quietly, looking quite bothered. His cheeks flush—he can feel the heat rush down his neck. “But I asked so nicely…” 

“I have to finish this.” 

“Go on, then,” James mutters. Regulus can hear the amusement in his voice. He really wagers just up and leaving, or maybe not turning in the work at all. He doesn’t want James seeing what he smells. In the end, like a child trying to prohibit someone from cheating off his test answers, Regulus covers his arm around the parchment. He hears a small chuckle from James’s direction, and a swivel in the chair. “I’m turned around,” he says. And because it’s James, Regulus knows he’s telling the honest truth. 

Regulus quickly scrawls down the smells: wood, fleece, sour candies, styling gel, and fresh, outdoor air. He finds it silly now, writing it down. He folds the parchment in half and sits patiently for class to be finished. “Regulus,” James says, right inside his ear. Regulus jumps, though it’s only a slight jerk this time. “What?” He seers through gritted teeth. “Will you meet me after dinner? The Come and Go Room?” Regulus’s annoyance seeps away like he’d never before felt it in his life. His face softens. “Is that what you call it?” He whispers, looking over at James’s non-visible body. “It’s what the House Elves call it,” he says quietly, “Will you come?”

“Will you leave, if I say yes?”

“Right away.” 

“Yes.”

There’s a quick scurrying, and Regulus can sense that he’s alone again. With a long sigh, he unfolds the parchment, and rereads the smells over and over. The air around him permeates with James, heightened further with his presence. With a fuzzy mind, he grows sluggish when the professor comes over to collect all the samples of the potion. He closes out his lesson with, “I hope you all learned something today. Not every pretty potion is a good one. I’m looking at you, McKinnon.” A cluster of laughs follows, around where Marlene McKinnon sits with her friends. 

Regulus quickly grabs his parchment, and brings it up to the professor. When he takes it, he holds his glasses and scans over it. “Do you happen to enjoy sour candies?” He asks, looking up at Regulus. He hesitates, but shakes his head. “I don’t much fancy candy at all, Professor,” he answers. Professor Slughorn hums and nods, thinking. “What kind did you smell, if you don’t mind me asking?” Regulus sort of minded. But he answers anyway. “Lemon drops.” The professor raises his brows. His expression is unreadable. “Very well, Mr. Black. Thank you.” He places his parchment in the pile along with everyone else’s. Regulus hurries out of the classroom immediately after. 

On Regulus’s way out of the Great Hall, he’s stopped by a hand on his shoulder. His eyes meet with James, who’s grinning down at him. He points behind him with his thumb at Remus. “He has to go show me how to return a library book. I’ll meet you there?” He asks, not referencing there as in the library, but as the Come and Go Room. Regulus nods. “Sure.” James looks back at Sirius. “Great. I think Sirius wants to speak with you,” James says. Regulus pales. “Oh, he—he does?” 

James gives him a quick wave, and he and Remus leave. Sirius steps up to him next. Regulus can’t even begin to imagine what he’s about to tell him. Sirius offers a dry smile. “Would it be alright if we talk?” He asks. Regulus blinks before nodding. Sirius goes off into the corridors, and Regulus struggles to keep up with him. He makes some turns until he disappears into a small broom closet. When Regulus gets inside, Sirius slams the door, and finds the light. 

“Sirius, what are we doing?” Regulus asks, feeling very stuffy all of a sudden. He looks around the dusty room in short disgust. “I just—,” Sirius takes a breath, looking very riddled with nerves. “I wanted your…opinion on Remus.” Regulus makes a face, one of confusion. “Remus? He’s… Well, why do you need my opinion?” He asks. Sirius gives him hopeless eyes. “Can you please just answer my question?” 

“He’s fine, he’s—,”

“Fine? Just fine?” 

“Well, what do you want him to be?” 

“I don’t want him to be anything.” 

“Well, you want him to be more than fine.” 

“I want you to think he’s more than fine.”

Regulus narrows his eyes at him and crosses his arms. “Sirius, I’m not doing this,” he says heatedly. “Then answer the question.” Regulus gapes at him. “I did, and you didn’t like my answer.” Regulus looks at him, and ultimately feels bad. So, he tries again. “Okay. He’s very smart. And kind, I guess. I don’t really know him, but from what I’ve seen… He seems to really care about you and James.” Sincerity is quite foreign to Regulus. But, Sirius looks more at peace from this answer. “Now why?” Regulus demands. 

Sirius laughs nervously. “No reason, just—,” Regulus cuts him off. “Reason enough to throw me in a dirty, old closet. So tell me,” he demands heatedly. Sirius hangs his head. “It’s nothing. I just wanted to know if you…liked him.” His choice of words is very telling. Regulus isn’t stupid—Sirius got that part of the genes. Sirius wants to know whether or not Regulus approves of Remus. As in, Sirius is interested in him. Regulus taps his foot on the floor. He gives Sirius his best poker face. “I dunno, he is kind of cute. Why? Do you think I should—?”

“No!” Sirius yells abruptly. Regulus knew something weird was going on. He’d had a feeling, ever since the first night he found out Sirius and Remus were “out.” But Regulus wants him to say it. So, he feigns surprise. “Oh? Why not? I think a werewolf would be pretty good in—,” Sirius cuts him off yet again. He stabs a finger into Regulus’s shoulder. “Stop that. That’s not why I was—I didn’t ask you because of that,” he says quickly, a blush creeping up into his cheeks. 

“So then why did you ask me?” Regulus asks, putting on his innocent and aloof face. Sirius looks like he’s struggling hard to get the words out, let alone breathe. It’s painful to watch, actually. “It’s funny, Sirius, because when he and I went into the Great Hall that one night, I really thought he was gonna kiss me. Weird, right?” He can see Sirius’s eye twitch. Regulus stifles a satisfied smile. “He’s just so…big and strong. And his hands—he seems like he’d be really good at using them—,”

“Okay, I get it!” Sirius shouts. He looks around the small room with a pout and crossed arms. He doesn’t look happy about this outcome at all. “I…” Sirius mumbles a few incoherent words after this. Regulus turns his head to hear better. “I’m sorry, what was that?” He asks patiently. Sirius huffs. “I have a crush on Remus,” Sirius says loudly. “Asshole,” he adds, much quieter. Regulus grins. “Just a crush? I thought you guys were already happily married,” Regulus teases, which earns him a heavy shove. 

“Stop, Reg, seriously,” he warns. Regulus’s lips curl up into a smile. “So, all these times you guys have been sneaking out at night?” Regulus prods. Sirius gapes, and looks at him defensively. “We just talk, we—,” he stops himself, and now frowns, “Wait. How do you know we’ve been sneaking out?” Now it’s Regulus’s turn to be nervous. “Um… James told me.” 

“When?” 

“Just…a few days ago.”

“Yeah. When?”

Regulus shakes his head. “When we were outside of the Whomping Willow,” he answers very slowly. Sirius throws his weight on one leg. “And I’m supposed to believe that?” He asks rhetorically. He screws his face up with confusion. “And since when do you call him James now? You told me you made a pact that you’d only call him Potter or my brother’s best friend when you were thirteen.” 

Well, maybe Regulus should retract the “Sirius got all the stupid” statement. “Well, he’s…not as bad as I thought,” he decides to say. Sirius clicks his tongue. “I told you he wasn’t. And I told you you’d like him! A person like James, you just have to get warmed up to,” he says, all back to normal now. Regulus lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Regulus looks around awkwardly, and begins to wipe down his robes. “So…about Remus. I think you should totally go for it,” Regulus says honestly. 

Sirius gives him a mocking smile. “Yeah, okay Mister Took Two Years To Tell My Crush I Like Him,” he says, sounding as if he’s been holding that in for a while. Regulus is slightly taken aback. “I only liked him for, like, a month,” Regulus insists. Sirius scoffs. “Okay, sure. Whatever you say,” he retorts. But Regulus did only like Barty for a month. And it wasn’t even that big of a deal honestly. There’s a lot to that story that he purposely left out, both to Sirius and to himself. 

“Is—is that you?” Sirius asks, lightly sniffing around the air. Regulus slightly backs away. “Is what me?” He asks. Sirius looks him up and down. “That smell. Do you not smell it? I’ve been smelling it this whole time, it’s got to be you.” Regulus looks offended. “At least I’m not a mangy mutt,” he counters. Sirius looks at him like he’s just spoken in a different language. “Okay, first of all, that’s very hurtful. I didn’t get to choose that. But, second of all, it’s not a bad smell.” Sirius steps close to Regulus and sniffs him by his neck. Regulus bends backwards to get away. 

“It’s definitely you. You smell like…blueberries. Or, blackberries. Have you always smelled like that?” Sirius asks. At first, Regulus wants to tell him to shut the hell up, but then he gets a very terrible feeling in his stomach. Instantly, the sound of James echoes throughout his ears: “I smelled berry.” His chest tightens and he can feel his knees growing weak. There’s no way—surely smelling of berries is a common thing. But, that isn’t even the part Regulus is hung up on. It’s the fact that, with Amortentia, James told him what he smelled—and he was almost certainly honest about it. 

“Reggie? Are you okay?” Sirius asks, swishing his hand over Regulus’s face. He blinks. “Hm? Sorry?” Sirius frowns. “I said you smell like berries. I told you it was you,” he says. After a few more seconds, Sirius grows claustrophobic. “Okay, it’s starting to get very stuffy in here. If you don’t mind, I have to go out again. With Remus. To talk.” Regulus has no mental energy in him to tease his brother about that. Instead, Sirius leaves, and Regulus stands there for a few extra minutes, freaking out. 

James smelled berry. I smell like berries. There’s no way. It just isn’t possible. It must be a coincidence. That’s all it is. Yes. And all that flirting we’ve been doing is just for fun. It’s just banter. It means nothing. When he’s called me love that also means nothing. He doesn’t mean it like that. Of course he doesn’t. He never would. It’s just James. It’s just me and James. 

James. Right. Regulus has to go meet James. In his current state, he isn’t sure if he could get through it. But he has to. He has nowhere else to go. He can’t go to his own dorm and hide there to cry, or better, die. So, he’ll have to cope somehow and get through it. It’s just James. Him and James. Together. Alone. In a room that almost no one knows about. Uninterrupted. Regulus shakes the thoughts out of his head and leaves the closet, taking his time to get to the seventh floor. 

Regulus was leaning against the wall across from the tapestry for about ten minutes before James came rushing down the corridor, hair wild and messy. He stops in front of Regulus and his chest heaves up and down. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. “It’s about time,” Regulus says grumpily. James catches his breath. “Were you waiting long?” He asks. Regulus shrugs. “Not really,” he lies. James nods happily. “Good,” he says. Then, he looks around them. When no one’s around, he paces again. 

And just like last time, the same metal shop door appears. Regulus goes through eagerly. When James joins him, the door disappears behind him. Regulus takes a deep, easing breath. It’s the same exact room—all comforting and pleasant. The records and books and paints are all still there, like it was untouched. And on the cushion lay A Wizard of Earthsea. He takes his spot in the armchair, and James sits on the one beside it. “Could you finish it tonight?” James asks gently. So Regulus picks up right where he left off. 

He finishes the book around eleven at night. It’s a relatively short read, and Regulus is a fast reader. The two spend another thirty minutes talking about the ending, and which parts were James’s favorites. In short, he loved the book. But he mostly loved the fact that Regulus read it to him in the first place. “Your voice is comforting,” James says with a charming smile. Regulus looks down at his knees. Time catches up with him. He grimaces. 

“Won’t my brother and Remus wonder where we are?” Regulus asks. 

“Well… Are we wondering where they are?” James retorts. Regulus presses his lips together. “I mean…they’re probably in the dorm room, right?” Regulus assumes. James shrugs. “Probably. But, they could also be in the Shrieking Shack. Or the kitchens. Or the Quidditch Pitch. Or the Forbidden Forest. Or—,” Regulus waves his hand in the air to stop him. “Alright, I get it,” he says gently. He sets the book down on the table. “Have you guys ever even been inside the Forbidden Forest?” Regulus asks dauntingly. 

“I have, once,” James admits, sounding proud of it. “Oh yeah? When?” James sits up and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “It was during my third year, for a punishment,” he says happily, “I had to gather firewood for the twelve fireplaces scattered about the castle.”  Regulus isn’t surprised. “And what horrible act did you do to warrant such a punishment?” He asks amusedly. James sucks air through his teeth. “Well, I…maybe flipped a student upside down and hung him in the air…in front of a professor. Head of Slytherin House, actually.” Regulus laughs exasperatedly. “In front of Professor Slughorn? Who was the victim?” 

James looks like he’s in pain as he says the name. “Ah… Severus Snape.” Regulus shares the disdain. Severus was a bit of a laughing stock amongst the Slytherin students. If Regulus isn’t their target for humiliation, it’s Severus. He’s a bit of a loser—used to have no friends, and had no family. Yet James is so sweet to people, it’s difficult to imagine him stringing someone up in the air for no reason. Regulus doesn’t have to ask why he did it; James is already on it. 

“Do you…happen to know Lily Evans?” He asks. Regulus’s smile fades a bit. “The one in your house, yes,” he says stiffly. He’s assuming James is about to drop something heavy on him. “Well…that day, Snape, he…called Lily a Mudblood.” Oh. Suddenly, Regulus feels bad for her. And he honestly didn’t like her all that much. When Regulus got to Hogwarts, all his brother did was hang out with four people: James, Remus, Peter, and Lily. 

And, Sirius wasn’t kidding when he said Regulus refused to say James’s first name. In his third year, James’s fourth, there was a rumor flying around school that James was going to ask Lily to the Yule Ball. Regulus was mortified. He’d started hanging out more properly with Barty then. So much so that he thought he’d started to like him. But he was just young. James ended up never asking anyone to the ball. He, Sirius, Remus, and Peter all went together. Lily went with another group of friends. But, from that day, he’d never wanted to give James the respect of a first name. He’d always just be his brother’s best friend. 

Thinking back on it now, it’s childish. But, he was also thirteen. It never was found out if James and Lily ever liked one another. Only they knew. And Regulus, honestly, thought it best to stay ignorant to it. Everything worked itself out, because at the start of James’s fifth year, Peter left school, and Lily started to hang out with Severus Snape—the name-caller himself. It infuriated Sirius when they’d started talking. “She’s mental! He called her that foul name, and she’s still giving him a second chance!” Sirius wouldn’t shut up about it that entire year. Since Regulus doesn’t keep up with school drama, he isn’t sure if they still talk, Lily and Severus. But, because Lily has yet to rekindle her friendship with the Marauders, Regulus assumes that they do. 

Regardless, he’s glad he’s calling him James again. He’s missed it. 

“Whatever happened to the two of them? Lily and Severus?” Regulus asks, eyeing James carefully. His eyes twinkle, and he grins, mostly to himself. He looks off in the distance. “They are best friends,” he says slowly. But he doesn’t sound jealous, or angry. Maybe just surprised by the fact. Because Regulus is, too. He’d no idea they were together at all. He barely sees Severus, and even less Lily. “Oh…that’s…ironic,” Regulus says, because frankly, he doesn’t know what else to say. James chuckles airily. “No, yeah, it is.” 

“So, you…defended her,” Regulus says lightly. James blinks, confused at first, before he suddenly remembers. “Oh, yes—I did. I was her friend. We all were, I mean—So were Sirius and Remus. And Peter…” Regulus nods. “Right,” he says knowingly. “It really wasn’t that big of a deal. Well, it was, because I got detention. I mean it wasn’t big for Lily. But—she was grateful, she told me so herself. But it was nothing. Like, it was something. I mean I used my wand against another student. I didn’t mean it. I did at that moment, but I wouldn’t do it again. Not to someone else. I—,” 

Regulus is staring at James, a small smile on his face. He’s amused by James’s rambling. If he were honest, he loved this side of him very much. “You?” Regulus prods, waiting patiently for him to continue. James looks down, perhaps to hide the wide smile that had already been plastered over his face. “I just meant…I defended her because she was my friend. And what he’d said was wrong,” he clears up. There’s a tiny hint of blush on his cheeks again, and Regulus could scoop him up and hug him endlessly because he is just so cute. 

“Well, it was very chivalrous of you,” Regulus says. James seems to find this funny, because he laughs. “I am in the House of chivalry,” he gloats. Regulus nods enthusiastically. “I will say: You are the most Gryffindor-y person I’ve ever met before in my entire life.” James raises his brows. “You haven’t met that many people. Though, I’m flattered that you think of me as ‘the most’ of anything,” he says charmingly. They sit there, holding each other’s eyes, just smiling like idiots. Until James, of course, breaks the silence. 

“Do you—maybe, if you’d like—want to go for a swim?” 

Regulus tilts his head to the side. He immediately thinks of the Black Lake, and his head spins. “Where?” He asks. James gives him that coy smile that drives him crazy. Regulus eyes him. “Will I have to use the godforsaken cloak?” James gets to his feet. “We will have to use the godforsaken cloak. And that cloak has done so much for me, you ought to treat it with more respect.” 

“Respect for fabric?” 

“Respect for a Hallow…My God, you’re bold.” James flashes him a mischievous look, before heading over to the entrance. The door appears. He triumphantly holds the invisibility cloak above his head, and wriggles his eyebrows. “Adventure awaits us,” he says goofily. Regulus shakes his head, and moves to join him at the door. “Please, never say that again,” he says. James grimaces, and nods immediately. “Only because you asked so nicely.” James thrusts the door open, and puts the cloak over the top of them. 

This time, under the cloak, Regulus presses his shoulder against James’s back. “Do you have the map?” He asks quietly. James shakes his head. “Nope. It would still be in Padfoot’s pocket, probably.” He and James slowly make their way to a staircase. While they’re on it, it begins to move. “Ah, shit,” James mutters. Regulus holds onto his arm to keep steady. “Long way it is, then,” James says, a little louder. 

They get on the landing when the stairs stop moving. Regulus accidentally steps on the back of James’s heel. He trips slightly, but is able to catch himself. A choppy laugh escapes him. “Do we have to use this thing?” Regulus asks. They keep walking, now down a wide corridor. The sconces that line the walls are shifting in and out. “Um…yes. We—we don’t. But we should. Because I have it for a reason,” says James. 

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m no fun? Have you met yourself?” 

“I’m fun.”

“My nan is more fun than you,” James counters with a snort. Regulus doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh, I’m sorry—wasn’t it my own brother who said that you would always rope me into your schemes? So…you taught me everything I know.” James blows out a puff of air. “How would you rate my teachings?” James asks, then adds, “I don’t think I’ve done a very good job.” Regulus bites down his smile. “You haven’t. But there’s still time to improve.”

“That’s what this is. I’m giving you extra credit,” James says, playing along perfectly. Regulus makes a protesting noise. “Mm, I don’t know if I want someone who doesn’t know how to return a library book as my teacher,” he teases. James steers them to make a right, then a quick left. Then, they meet another staircase. “Hopefully this one doesn’t move,” James comments. They step onto it, and begin to go down the steps together. 

They get to the fifth floor safely. They’re off again, down a short, narrow hall, then into a larger one. “I know how to return a library book,” James says defensively. Regulus scoffs. “So, then you’re a liar,” he states. He can feel James’s body stiffen against his, like he winced from the comment. “I might have told a tiny fib,” he confesses. Regulus shakes his head. “Why?” 

“Patience, love.”

Regulus stumbles, and steps down hard onto James’s heel again. This time, James isn’t able to recover. He trips, and falls right out of his shoe. Regulus gasps. His shoe goes flying behind them, and James’s body collapses. The cloak slips off of Regulus, and falls with James. “You! Stop right there!” Regulus’s blood runs cold. He swishes around, and sees a lamp light all the way down the end of the hall: Argus Filch. With wide eyes, Regulus rushes over to grab James’s shoe. 

“Are you okay?” Regulus calls urgently over his shoulder. James fumbles on the floor. With the cloak half on and half off, he scrambles to his feet. At this moment, with Regulus and James staring at each other breathlessly, it’s complete and utter bliss. Regulus’s hair is tousled, and James’s glasses are crooked on his nose. James eyes Filch, and with the most mischievous smile, he yells one word: “Run!” 

Regulus bolts, grasping hold of James’s shoe, down the hall. James is right behind him. “Hey! Come back here, now!” Filch screeches behind them. But he isn’t nearly as fast. James and Regulus, shoulder to shoulder, sprint down the corridors, the heavy air whipping through their bodies. “This way, this way!” James shouts, beckoning Regulus over with his hand. They take a right. James slows to a jog. He stops at a line of doors across from the statue of Boris the Bewildered. 

James looks over at Regulus with his tongue between his teeth, his lips pulled up gorgeously. Regulus gasps for air. James stands in front of the fourth door in line. “You can’t hide!” Filch is heard saying, though his voice is echoey and far away. “Lemongrass,” James whispers, then tugs open the door. With a shared giggle, the two boys slip inside. Regulus is laughing as James closes it. He limply holds out his shoe. James takes it. 

“You tripped me. For a second time,” James says amusedly. Regulus’s knees are weak. He holds his stomach and doubles over. “I—sorry—,” Regulus laughs some more, until tears prick at the corners of his eyes. After a minute, he gains his composure. He wipes the tears away. “Are you alright?” Regulus asks, voice stretched and raw. When he meets James’s eyes, there’s a softness in them that makes his heart flutter. James snaps out of whatever that just was. “I—yes. I am…I’m good. Great.” He holds up his shoe, and it hits his thigh on its way back down. 

“Do you think he saw where we went?” Regulus asks, eyeing the door. “No, not a chance. He hobbles, did you see?” Regulus lets out a fit of giggles again. “No—! I was too busy running. He hobbles?” James joins in with the laughter. “He does.” The laughing fades off after a few seconds. James motions to the room. Regulus finally looks around. It’s a bathroom. But it’s a very ornate, elegant one. There’s rows of toilets and sinks along the intricately detailed walls. In the very center of the room is a large tub sunken down into the tiled floor. The water is silver, with golden, fluffy bubbles. Regulus lets out a puff of air, awestruck. 

“What room is this?” Regulus asks. James walks further inside. He tosses his shoe to the side, and takes off his remaining one. It joins the other on the floor. “This is the prefects’ bathroom,” he answers, “I was here, by the way. Earlier. Not at the library, ignorant to the art of returning a book.” Regulus sinks his bottom lip between his teeth. “With Remus?” James nods. “He told me the password.” Regulus hums. 

James loosens his tie, and pulls it off. He begins to unbutton his shirt. Regulus’s chest tightens. He looks down at his own shoes. “Have you…been in here before?” Regulus asks. He hears shuffling, and something soft hitting the floor. “Not willingly,” James says, and Regulus can hear the smile in his voice. He doesn’t elaborate, which causes Regulus to turn his head to look at him. 

Big mistake. 

Next to the pool stands a very clothes-less James, with only boxer briefs securely around his thighs. Regulus’s skin prickles as his shoulders raise in panic. He tears his eyes away, only to find himself looking right back at him. Slowly, Regulus approaches him. James sits himself down at the poolside, and dips his legs into the silver water. It’s shiny and glossy like liquid metal. Regulus watches James’s shoulder blades pull together. He’s very toned, so much that it sends a tingle down Regulus’s spine. 

“You see, I’d come once before with Mooney. Last year. It was a mess all because of Myrtle,” James says, but Regulus is only half listening. James’s glasses fog up slightly from the heat of the water. “Who’s, erm… Who is Myrtle?” He asks. He shakes out of his school robe, and it falls to the ground. When James looks over, he stares a little bit too long before turning away. “She’s a ghost. She was a, um, student here. Ravenclaw. Sweet girl, but she could talk your head right off your shoulders.” Regulus laughs, mostly to distract himself from what was happening. 

His tie comes off next, then he starts to fumble with the buttons of his shirt. “So…you’re a deer,” Regulus says gently. James gives a throaty chuckle. “Stag,” he corrects, “Yeah. It was a grueling process. But, all worth it for Remus.” Regulus gets his shirt off, and hesitates with his pants. He watches James’s skin, and how it swoons against the harsh cool tones of the water. “That’s really nice of you,” Regulus says, before quickly adding, “And Sirius.” James nods. “I’m sure Remus was thankful for it,” Regulus continues. 

This earns a shrug. “I think he wants to be. But I know him. He probably still manages to feel like a bother. He isn’t. We did it to get closer to him,” James explains, lightly circling his feet under the water. Regulus’s pants are off, and he’s inadvertently aware of his body. He covers himself, though James isn’t even looking. Regulus kicks off his shoes, and takes his socks off. He stands there, an arm across his stomach. 

“He loves you,” Regulus says, “Remus. You guys, I mean. He loves you guys.” James can’t help but smile. He almost never stops. It’s one of the many reasons Regulus’s heart is beating so loudly he can hear it in his ears. He can barely hear his own words when he speaks. James turns his head, and the smile slips. Regulus covers up his body further, and James notices. He blinks far too many times, and clears his throat. “Do you—I have a funny story. Well, not really funny. But it’s just a story. About my being an animagus. Do you want to…hear it?” He asks, unsure. He’s looking only at his eyes now. Regulus nods. 

James is back to looking at the water. Regulus really wants to know what he’s thinking. “I got the idea in Transfiguration. Because of Professor McGonagall. You know, she’s also a cat, so—Anyways, I had asked her how she decided to become one. Well, she knew I was up to something right away. Always knows when I am up to something,” James says, easing Regulus’s anxieties. Slowly, Regulus uncovers himself, and comes closer to the side of the pool. 

“She told me it was a terrible idea. ‘Absolutely not,’ she’d said. But she knew how stubborn I was. When Sirius and I told her our reasons, she was definitely more sympathetic. We begged her every single class to tell us how to become animagi, step by step. And every single class, she’d say no.” Regulus sinks down next to James, and eases one foot into the water. It’s nice and hot; it’s soothing. He puts his whole leg in. He brings his other leg up, and rests his cheek on his knee, staring at the side of James’s face. 

“What made her say yes, eventually?” Regulus asks quietly. James peeks a look at him, only to suddenly focus hard on the small whirlpools his legs make in the water. He shrugs. “Oh, you know… Maybe hearing my pleas every day for a month started to thin her patience. I think she just wanted to shut me up, honestly.” 

“I don’t blame her,” Regulus says playfully. 

“Well, she spoke to Dumbledore about it. And once he approved it, that’s all she needed. Of course she gave us all the warnings and dangers, but…we didn’t care. All we wanted was to make Remus feel a little less alone.” Regulus smiles at the thought. “I’d say you succeeded,” Regulus shares. James nods. “After six years, I’d hope so.” There’s a beat until James speaks again. 

“Once we’d begun the process, I was always so tired after Transfiguration. By the time I got to Potions, all I’d want to do is relax and eat candy. Slughorn always got on me for it. He’d say that lemon is never good to have around potions. Something about the acidity messing with the chemistry, or… I dunno, I never listened.” Regulus looks forward in a puzzled expression. He remembered how Professor Slughorn asked which candies he’d smelled in the love potion. It gets him thinking, what if Slughorn knew it was James? 

“I sit at the same desk you do, you know,” James adds, looking over at Regulus with glassy eyes. “Oh…you do?” James hums. “Well, Sirius sits in your chair. I sat in the next one over,” he says, sounding proud. Regulus looks at him sideways. “Yeah. Why did you? I mean, why were you there at all? You scared me to death.” There’s a glint that passes through James’s eyes. 

Before answering, he pushes himself down into the water. He’s tall enough to stand, but he sinks down until the water is at his chin. “I’d left my textbook,” James says. Regulus isn’t convinced. “Then why did you use the cloak?” James shrugs. “I like the thrill of getting caught with it. It was a plus seeing you there.” The heat from the water permeates through Regulus’s veins. His face is burning up. 

“There was a guy, at the front of the class,” James says, “was he the one you fought with?” Regulus feels too exposed outside the water, so he slides into it. The balls of his feet just graze the bottom of the pool. He’s able to stay afloat comfortably enough. “Barty, yeah.” James hums, finally looking back at Regulus. This time, he stays looking. “Does he always sit so far away from you?” 

“Oh yeah. That’s nothing new. He’s sat with Evan for years.” James frowns, and looks upset by this. “Really? Well, it doesn’t seem like he was much of a friend then.” Regulus swirls his arms around the water, basking in the warmth. “He isn’t—wasn’t.” 

“What did you even fight about?” 

Regulus’s head spins. He looks over to the wall at the head of the pool; a painting of a mermaid. “He never took the time to do things with me. All his time is spent with Evan, which I get. They’re dating, by the way. But Barty thinks I’m jealous of them,” he says all this quickly. James’s eyebrows raise. “Why does he think that?” 

Regulus’s mouth feels very dry. He swallows thickly, and looks anywhere else but James. “Well, I sort of…liked him.” The air between them stretches. It feels like James is suddenly across the room. But, in reality, he hasn’t moved. He’s still looking at Regulus, calmly and patiently. “Oh,” is all James says. 

“Liked. Past tense. He didn’t like me back, so…” James’s eyes flicker here and there. Regulus doesn’t know what he’s looking at. There’s an awkward silence between them, with only the trickling sound of water becoming background noise. James breaks it with a click of his tongue. “His loss. You don’t need friends like that. You have us now,” James says warmly, meeting his eyes again. Regulus grins, and puts his head down shyly. “It was three years ago, by the way,” Regulus says. James seems to perk up. 

“I only liked him for a month. Three years ago, in third year.” James looks away to smile, mostly to himself. “Does Sirius know?” James asks. Regulus nods. “He was the first one I told. The only one, honestly.” James heaves out a content sigh. “You have people that will listen to you, Reg.” The nickname always sounded childish whenever Sirius said it. But, from James’s mouth, it sounds so endearing. “You have people that love you,” James adds. 

Regulus scoffs lightly. “I wouldn’t say my brother’s love counts. That’s kind of inevitable, really,” Regulus replies cheaply. James shakes his head. And he’s suddenly moving closer to Regulus. He wades through the silver water until he’s right in front of him. With both of their chins up to the water, they’re just about nose to nose. Regulus’s heart falls to the floor. He doesn’t think he’s breathing. 

“I wasn’t talking about your brother…” 

But James backs away, only slightly. Maybe to look at him properly, because his glasses are foggy again. They slip down his nose. “You don’t like him anymore?” James asks. “Who, Barty? No. It was only for a month.” There’s a slight pause, and then, “Have you…ever liked Lily?” The mention of her seems to confuse James, almost like he’d forgotten he was the one who’d brought her up in the first place. “What? No. Definitely not… What gave you that idea?” 

Regulus laughs dryly. How can James be so dense? “I dunno, maybe just the entire school. Everyone thought you two were a thing,” he says, sounding a bit harsh. James shakes his head. “We never were. She never liked me. You know, she always had a crush on—well, I don’t want to go about telling her business.” James is never one to shut his mouth, so it’s odd. But, Regulus thinks it’s very kind of him to do. When it all comes down to it, James really does care about people. 

“So, have you never liked anyone?” Regulus asks, pressing. He wants to know—needs to know. James smiles, and looks away. “I wouldn’t say that.” His response is ambiguous. It surely isn’t enough to go off of, not for Regulus. He isn’t so sure he should know now. He doesn’t want to hear James say any other name that isn’t his own. Maybe it’s a selfish thought. He thinks he’d rather get his soul sucked away by a dementor than hear another name. But, if James did say his name, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. 

He hadn’t thought that far. His imagination never allowed him to, after all these years. All his life, he was never lucky. Good and Regulus never seemed to coincide. Neither did happy and Regulus. The good and the happy all seemed to go to Sirius. He was beloved at school. He was the first Black to ever stand apart from his wretched, Pureblood supremacy fueled family. He was the good, they were the evil. Everyone thought he was so brave to do it. 

And when Regulus came the following year, it seemed everyone had so much hope for him to follow in his brother’s footsteps—to be good, just like Sirius. But, no. Of course, he had to be unlucky. He was sorted into Slytherin, the same as the rest of his family. He could feel the disappointment amongst the students—the fear. He wanted to be just like his older brother. But that one moment seized up that hope. Everyone declared that Regulus would be just as horrible as every other Black. 

Sirius was always the favorite. Especially with James. Honestly, Regulus hadn’t cared about anybody else. The only thing that truly mattered was how James saw him. But, once Regulus got to Hogwarts, and was sorted, James just…stopped talking to him. Of course, not on purpose. They just never saw each other, being put into different Houses and different years. They didn’t have the same classes, and stayed on opposite sides and levels of the castle. And whenever they did see each other, Regulus would dismiss all of James’s greetings and compliments. But it didn’t mean it hurt Regulus any less; to be rendered forgotten. 

A small wave of water splashes into his face. It wets his hair. Droplets hang from his curls as he’s brought back to the present time. His eyes focus on James, who hasn’t in the slightest forgotten him. “Are you not the least bit curious about who it is?” James asks, voice taut, yet sweet. Regulus is happy right now, with James. He stifles a smile. “Do you ever talk about anyone other than yourself?” Regulus jabs. 

“I talk about you.” 

“Oh, really?” Regulus tilts his head. Now it’s his turn to inch closer to James. “And what does the very popular, valiant James Potter have to say about me?” Regulus taunts, allowing the smile to break through. James comes closer now, too. “Well, for starters, he thinks you should smile more. He told me you look really pretty when you do.” Regulus’s mind goes hazy. They meet in the middle, nose to nose once more. This time, Regulus hopes James doesn’t back away. “Was that his choice of words? Pretty?” Regulus asks, voice velvety and gentle. “Exact,” James pushes out. Regulus glances down at James’s lips—delectable and soft. 

“Maybe he should get the courage to tell me that himself,” Regulus says, wanting so desperately to indulge in all his years’ fantasies that he’d never be eager to admit to having. Slowly, James’s hands rise up from the water. The sound sloshes through Regulus’s ears, and it paralyzes him. He’s unable to move as James’s wet palm cups the side of his face. His touch is so gentle it’s barely there. Regulus leans into it, feeling as if a forest fire had been let out inside his chest. 

“I could show you.” 

Something sharp wracks through Regulus’s body like a ship sinking into the deepest depths of the ocean. His heartbeat is slamming through his ears. His mind is running faster than the speed of light. He’s frozen, he’s hot, he’s petrified—he’s good; he’s happy. Slowly, Regulus’s eyes sink shut as James leans in. When their lips meet, Regulus is sure he will faint. He’s had quite a few kisses, but none of them matched up to this. His thoughts cease to exist. He simply gets lost in the feeling of James’s lips on his: warm and crackling. 

He kisses him long, about ten seconds. And Regulus never wants it to end. But when it does, Regulus tries to chase his lips again. But he’s quick to open his eyes, breathless. He looks at James with anticipation. James’s eyes flutter open as if he’s been snapped out of a wondrous daze. Regulus parts his lips to say something, but James’s eyes grow wide. His mouth falls, and he looks absolutely mortified. He reluctantly pulls himself away. 

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t—I just…” James stutters, grasping at his own hair frantically. Regulus’s chest tightens. Despair starts to creep at his sides and snatch him away. He refuses to let it happen. He forces himself to reach out for James. He catches him by the forearm, and James halts his movements. He breathes out nervously, staring into Regulus’s eyes like it’s his favorite place to look. 

Regulus slowly pulls James closer to him. He comes forward obediently. “Please…it’s okay,” Regulus says, voice wavering above a whisper. James stiffens; he looks hesitant. His eyes are bouncing all over Regulus’s face now, searching for something. “I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to, I—I probably read this wrong. You…I couldn’t stop—just…I’m sorry.” 

Regulus gives him forgiving eyes. His grip softens on him. He’s about to let go, until James catches his hand with his own. “You didn’t…” Regulus says, “Read it wrong, I mean. I did want you to—still want you to.” James looks at him cautiously, not wanting to cross an invisible line that possibly could’ve been drawn when he wasn’t looking. But Regulus would never draw a line. Maybe he would with Sirius, and he has, but never with James. 

Sirius… 

Regulus lets out a shaky breath. Sirius—his brother. James is his brother’s best friend. Shit, what the fuck did he just do? Regulus is almost certain that Sirius drew a line for this exact situation a few years ago. They had gone to visit their cousins, Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Andromeda. And at the time, Narcissa had been very good friends with Rodolphus Lestrange for years. And one day, Bellatrix had started dating him, out of the blue. She’d completely stolen him from Narcissa, and forced him to never talk to her again. The sisters hated each other from then on. Even now, Narciss and Bellatrix don’t talk to one another. Sirius told Regulus that day: “I would never do that to you, Reggie. That’s just pure evil.” 

Regulus starts to feel faint. What a cruel thing to do to Sirius, who’s done nothing but love and care for him. He couldn’t do that to him. This is James, his brother’s bestest friend. It’s just pure evil. He falters, and shakes his hand out of James’s grip. James’s face falls. Regulus presses his lips together and backs away. 

“Regulus…” James says, sounding painfully apologetic. Regulus feels so guilty. He should’ve felt it the first time, back when he first saw James in front of the Gryffindor common room just a few days ago. It’s all too much. Quickly, Regulus scrambles out of the water. He shivers as the cold air lashes against his skin. “Regulus—,” James tries again, but he's pleading this time. Regulus goes to his clothes, and snatches up his wand. Wordlessly, he waves it over himself and he’s dry. He’s never put clothes on so fast in his life. 

He’s swinging his arm through his school robe when James finally gets out of the pool. He’s in front of Regulus, water dripping heavily off his hair, face, and skin. It’s unfair how much torture James unwillingly puts him through. James searches him with desperate eyes. “I’m sorry, Reg. I know I shouldn’t have kissed you…but I did.” 

“You did,” is all Regulus can say. James runs a hand through his hair, and it sits so messily and damp on his head that Regulus could scream. James lets out a frustrated little sigh. His eyebrows are dipped down. He’s thinking, and thinking, until he opens his mouth again to speak. “We can forget all about it. I promise. Nothing happened. I never did that. And we can go back to how it was before I did…whatever it is that I didn’t do.” 

“James…” James melts at the name. Regulus can’t do this. He can’t say no, he can’t pretend it didn’t happen. He wanted it to. He wanted it to be James. He’s always wanted it to be James. He wants to be happy. James clambers for his clothes. He whisks them on, not seeking to care in the slightest that he’s all wet. He haphazardly buttons his shirt. When he’s fully clothed, Regulus takes a deep breath. James goes right back to the spot in front of Regulus. And he’s taking away all his air. 

“James, we can’t,” Regulus murmurs. A soft laugh escapes from James. “Why not?” He asks. And Regulus could just break in two, because the way James’s voice is so heavy and rough is…it’s the most gut wrenching thing he’s ever heard. James reaches out to grab his hands. He lets him. “My brother. You’re Sirius’s best friend…” James loosens his grip, their fingertips grazing only slightly. A stark emptiness passes over his face. He looks numb. 

“Is that all I’ll ever be to you?” 

The question is heavy. But it’s one that Regulus can’t weigh in on at the moment. His mind is too fuzzy, and too many thoughts and feelings and emotions are stumbling over one another, passing each other up, and knocking the other down. He can’t think straight. He can’t hear his own thoughts. He only hears James, and his words echoing, pounding vividly. He sounds so hurt. 

“That’s all you are.” Regulus doesn’t mean for it to come out so harsh. James sucks air through his teeth, like he was just struck across the face. He might as well have been. With this, he lets Regulus’s hands fall down at his sides. His eyebrows stitch together. With a frown, he looks back into Regulus’s eyes with a rekindled flame of determinism. “What if I said I wanted to be more? That I can be more, if you just let me.” 

“I’m scared,” Regulus confesses. And it’s the first time he’s ever said those two words out loud to anyone. He’s never even told Sirius he was scared—not directly. Thunderstorms used to scare him. But he’d only sneak into Sirius’s room at night and get in his bed; he’d never tell him with words. When his parents would cross the line, and say or do something horrible to him, he was scared. But he’d only cry in Sirius’s arms; he’d never actually say the words. 

James looks at him encouragingly to continue, only if he wants. Regulus struggles to breathe. He can feel an impending attack coming along. He’s already gasping for air. James’s hand falls on his shoulder. And after some more tries, Regulus’s lungs are able to find a deep breath to take. His eyes dance around James’s face, focusing on every detail: every hair in his eyebrows, every spec of caramel in his eyes, the three beauty marks on his cheek, the numerous shades of pink in his lips, and the pooling blush underneath his cheeks. 

“I’m scared of…this. What if I don’t deserve it? What if I…” Regulus trails off, struggling to find the right words. He lets his eyes sink shut, and thinks. “I can’t be hurt if I don’t let people in,” he says, opening his eyes to look at James’s reaction. He smiles at Regulus sadly. His eyes swoon. “Oh, Regulus…” James reaches out for him. And Regulus allows him to embrace him. It’s hearty, and full. And James squeezes him a bit until he feels satisfied. He pulls away, but stays close, with his arms loosely hung around his waist. 

“You can’t love that way, either,” James says, studying his eyes. “I don’t think I’m cut out for love,” Regulus says quietly. “You are. You’re…” He brings a hand up to Regulus’s face, and his thumb begins to trace the shape of his lips. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met in my entire life. You’re achingly beautiful. You’re gentle. You’re kind. You’re everything that love only ever dreams of reaching. You…” It seems that James thinks Regulus is ‘the most’ of something, too.

“You deserve the world, love. And I want to try to give it to you, if you’d…if you’d just let me.” His repetition of the sentence sends a heavy ache down Regulus’s spine. Regulus doesn’t even realize he’s crying until James’s thumb moves to wipe at his eyes. He smiles down at him, sweet, yet downcast. His tongue dashes across his lips. 

“If you ask me to, I’ll stop. If you want me to shut up, and never bring any of this up again, I will listen. I will do it for you. If that’s what you want,” he says loosely, voice breaking slightly. Regulus feels his lips tremble. Finally, he takes a sharp inhale before letting the air out; it’s stilted and unsteady. With teary eyes, he looks up at James. “It doesn’t matter what I want.” James frowns at him. 

“There isn’t anything in this world that doesn’t matter,” he says certainly, a fire blazing in his eyes. He swallows, and drops his hands, looking desperate again. “Fuck, Regulus… You are everything that has ever mattered. You’ll always matter.” And that’s when Regulus breaks down fully. He collapses to his knees with a strangled cry. And James follows him down. He holds him close, and lets him sob into his chest. He caresses his back with soothing circles. And, every so often, he whispers things into his ear: “I’m right here,” “It’ll be alright,” “Let it out.” 

And finally, once Regulus has settled down a bit, he removes himself from James’s chest. They smile at each other weakly. James brings a hand up to the back of Regulus’s neck, the base of his curls. And then, finally, James says something else—something that slices through Regulus’s soul, and shocks him right back to life: 

“I love you, Regulus.” 

He…what? Time seems to freeze. The idea has passed through Regulus’s mind, of course it has, because it was just an idea. And the whole berry thing was cute to think about, but he didn’t think it was actually real. It was just an inkling of childish hope that he’d considered holding onto for a little bit. But hearing the words come out of James’s mouth, in his voice… At that moment, he thought his heart was going to explode. 

“No, you don’t,” Regulus hears himself say. Because no way would life ever be so kind to him. Everything that he’s gone through, this—well, it completely makes everything else forgiven. It’s all in the past, long forgotten and thrown under the rug. He stares at James, waiting agonizingly for the punchline. But James only shrugs lightly, and forces a smile. His eyes are shiny with tears. “Don’t do that,” James pleads. 

Regulus shakes his head, but James continues before he can argue with him. “Don’t do that, I hate it when you do that to yourself. You—you deserve it all. And more. More than anyone would ever be able to give you, so don’t…don’t sell yourself short. I do love you. And I’ll never stop,” he says certainly. Regulus’s knees start to hurt from the tiled floor. He moves to stand up, and James follows him. He’s still barefoot. Regulus cracks a smile. 

“You’re sure?” Regulus asks gently. 

“I’m positive.”

“How?” He questions. Because, truly, Regulus doesn’t understand how someone like himself could catch the attention of James Potter. James’s eyes are welcoming and honest. “I told you already; I smelled berry,” he answers. Regulus throws his hands together to fidget. “Today? In my potions class?” He prods, hoping for a more clear answer. James’s lips pull up into a smile, his dimples showing. His hair falls damp in his face, strands hitting the top of his glasses. 

“Last year. In my potions class,” James confesses, “The smell hasn’t changed.” Regulus feels like he’s been starstruck. “You’re—you’re serious?” He’s exasperated. He’s been ignoring James all this time, when he could’ve had this all last year? “What else did you smell?” He asks, interest piquing. James doesn’t even have to think about it. “Mmm, licorice and eucalyptus.” 

“Do those smell good together?” 

“Yes. Because it’s you.”

Regulus’s body starts to become numb. James stands in a puddle of water on the floor, grinning like an idiot. Regulus is clipped with disbelief, and happiness. His heart feels so full. James has loved him since last year… What even made him feel that way? Regulus hadn’t spoken to him properly since he was literally ten years old. What’s he done to change James’s mind? But his legs feel too heavy underneath him. His eyes close, as sleep catches up to him. He doesn’t even know what time it is. 

A long yawn draws from his mouth. James looks like he wants to touch him—hold him, maybe. But he stands, hands slightly shaking from the cold air around them mixing with his drenched body. “You’re going to tell me what you smelled after we get some sleep. Okay?” James says caringly. Regulus nods softly. James snatches his socks, and struggles to pull them over his feet. “You—It was me that you smelled, right?” James asks, stepping inside his shoes. Regulus looks away from him as he smiles. “Absolutely,” Regulus says. 

James smiles to himself before grabbing the wrinkled up invisibility cloak. Regulus groans. “I am not wearing that thing,” he protests. James laughs. “We have to. It’s not here for nothing,” he says. “It got us caught,” Regulus tells him. James shakes his head. “No, you got us caught. By tripping me. You’re clumsy.” 

“Am not.”

“And stubborn,” James adds. To this, Regulus has no qualm. They leave the room, under the cloak, and get back to the Gryffindor portrait in a comfortable silence. “Sugared violets,” James says to the Fat Lady portrait. She stretches and yawns loudly. She throws up her sleeping mask and stares out into the empty corridor. “Is that you, Jamesy?” She asks tiredly. James sticks a thumb up out from under the cloak. “The one and only,” he says, careful not to reveal Regulus in the process. Lazily, Lady opens up, and James tugs Regulus through the portrait hole. 

Once they’re securely inside the bedroom, James pulls the cloak off, and tosses it on his trunk. Immediately, Regulus looks to Sirius’s bed. He’s fast asleep, body tangled up in his duvet. His arm sticks off the side of his bed. At the foot of his bed, in front of the windowsill, sits Remus, still awake. He’s reading a book, using the half-moon as light. Regulus looks over at James nervously, but he’s ripping his shirt off. Regulus promptly looks away. 

Remus grins. “I stole an extra pair of Sirius’s pajamas for you, Reg,” Remus says lightly, but he isn’t attempting to be quiet. Sirius always was a very heavy sleeper. Regulus feels embarrassed, since Remus knows to some extent he and James have been hanging out a lot. How much does he know? Enough. And it brings a flush to Regulus’s cheeks that he tries to hide. But it’s dark in the room, as it’s very early morning. And no one is even looking at Regulus. 

James now has on checkered pants and a white shirt. His hair is still a little wet. Regulus wonders why he hasn’t dried it with magic. Unbeknownst to Regulus, James wanted to relish in what just happened. He didn’t want the night to ever end. If he needed to sleep with wet hair to feel like they were still in the prefects’ bathroom, he would. Regulus moves over to James’s bed. James throws his body into the mattress. His eyes find Regulus quickly. He smiles. 

“Shouldn’t you change?” James asks. “Shouldn’t you dry your hair?” Regulus retorts. James quiets down. There’s a beat of silence, until James pats the space beside him. “Do you want to—?” Regulus shakes his head, flipping his head back to Remus, who’s smiling down at his book. Though Regulus doesn’t remember The Catcher in the Rye being all that funny. “No, it’s—I don’t think…” He looks back at Remus, who raises an eyebrow at the page he’s “reading.” 

“It’s fine, James. I’m fine,” he says awkwardly. James smiles even wider. “Okay,” he says. Regulus hesitates, not knowing what it is he’s waiting for. “Have a good swim?” Remus asks, but when his eyes peel off the book, they’re looking at James. “Oh, yeah. Was the silver your choice? I thought it looked a bit tacky,” James replies, throwing his arms under his head. He closes his eyes, laying flat on his back. Remus scoffs. “You could’ve changed the color,” Remus says. James’s eyebrows twitch. “Oh—I’ll have to try that next time.” 

Regulus floats his way over to Peter’s bed—now his bed. At least temporarily. He drags his hands over the folded pajamas Remus had neatly laid out on the pillow. He gets changed, and the pants hang slightly past his feet. The shirt fits okay, but it’s still a little big over his shoulders. “You look nice,” Remus compliments, eyes floating off his book again, “the red looks good.” Regulus drops on the bed. “Thank you,” Regulus says, and he hopes Remus knows it was for him giving the clothes in the first place. 

Regulus turns on his side, looking over at James from across the room. The room isn’t that big; if Regulus wanted to speak to him, James would hear. But Regulus feels too tired, and he wouldn’t know what to say. James could already be asleep. His eyes are still closed, and his chest rises up and falls down blissfully. “Will you sleep soon?” Regulus asks into the air. Remus hums. A page flips. 

“I’d say not,” he responds. Regulus shifts under the blanket, pulling it up to his chin. He thinks about how water was just up to his chin, and James’s. And James kissed him. He smiles. “Why not?” Regulus asks. There’s a quick silence. “Because it’s already quarter to six,” he answers stiffly. Regulus wants to cry at this. He’ll be getting no sleep at all. He puts his hands under his pillow, and closes his eyes. “You’ll get in a good few hours,” Remus says, almost like he was able to read Regulus’s mind. 

Regulus doesn’t even remember falling asleep before he’s awoken. 

He hears fits of laughter, and multiple voices talking over each other. He can’t pick up the exact topic. He squeezes his eyes, and feels the sun beaming on his skin through the window. He grumbles, and pulls the blanket up over his head. “The grump is finally up,” Sirius says. Regulus groans. “But I feel like that doesn’t make any sense. Why would they make me bring my textbook?” James is asking, apparently continuing his conversation. 

“I feel like you never listen to me when I’m talking to you,” Remus retorts. “I do! I listen. But if we aren’t allowed to cheat, why would we bring the textbook?” James asks. “It isn’t cheating, James. Professor Flitwick allows you to use the source material. Just bring it.” Regulus twists around, until he finally decides to sit up. “Aren’t you a pretty sight in the morning,” Sirius says rhetorically. Regulus doesn’t have the energy to glare at him. 

When he does look, the three of them are sitting in the center of the room. A low, long table stretches between them, and steaming, hot breakfast foods litter the surface. Regulus’s stomach growls. James tilts his chin, and his eyes fall on Regulus. “I don’t think I want to take a NEWT for Charms,” James says, eyes still on Regulus. Remus clicks his tongue. “Why wouldn’t you? Take a NEWT for everything. Just see what you get.” 

“I want to be an Auror, Remus, not a scholar.”

“Aurors need to be academically inclined, James.” 

“Are you saying I’m not already academically inclined?” 

“I’m saying you refuse to be what you most certainly can achieve.” 

Regulus slips out of bed, and approaches the table. Remus bids him a good morning, and James flashes a smile. “Courtesy of the House Elves,” James says, motioning the options with his hand. Regulus sits himself down on the floor. Suddenly, he misses Kreacher. He’s the only reason why he still goes back home after the school year, if he were honest. He can’t wait to see him this summer, even if it means putting up with his wretched mother. 

“Me and Remus have Arithmancy this morning,” Sirius says. 

“Remus and I,” Regulus corrects. 

He reaches to grab a piece of toast and starts nibbling on it. Sirius looks upset. “Oh, I didn’t like that… You sound just like Remus,” he says disquietingly, “He sounds just like you.” Sirius lightly hits Remus’s shoulder, which earns a sleek smile. Remus wipes his mouth, and gets to his feet. “I think I’ll get to class a little early,” he announces. James snorts. “If you go any earlier, I’d say you should just teach the class,” he says. Sirius hums. “Maybe he should,” he replies. 

“You’d like that,” James mutters. Sirius kicks him hard under the table. James winces. Remus moves to grab his things. Sirius gets up, too. “Oh, you’ll be going too, then?” James asks, tone still just as playful. Sirius throws daggers at him over his shoulder. “See you in Transfiguration, Prongs,” Remus says, waving at him, “Later, Reg.” He’s off, and Sirius looks between Regulus and James heatedly. Regulus shakes his head instantly. He is not about to get blamed for James catching on Sirius’s crush on Remus. “No, I didn’t—I haven’t said anything.” 

James’s eyes widen. “No way—! You told him before me?” James demands. Sirius looks like he could kill him. “He’s my brother,” he says, “and you have a big mouth.” James opens his mouth to speak, but closes it, realizing that saying anything would only prove Sirius’s point. “You didn’t tell him, Reg?” He asks, eyeing him. Regulus shakes his head. “I didn’t. I would never.”

“Oh, it’s obvious, Pads! I’m sorry,” James exclaims. Sirius is tight-lipped, and crosses his arms. “This never happened. Okay?” He says, staring at James with stoney eyes. James puts his hands up. Regulus is too busy stuffing his face with bacon. “You’d better run along,” James says, “Your boyfriend’s waiting.” 

A pillow comes straight at James’s face. It smacks him, and falls right into his lap. His glasses slip down his nose. He points a finger at James. “You’re so getting it when I come back,” he says warningly. James smiles. “Oh, I’d say you’re getting it when you leave this room.” Sirius’s eye twitches. With no more pillowy artillery to throw, he seems to have had enough. He stomps over to the door. “Sorry to leave you with him, Reggie,” he says apologetically. James leans back comfortably on his arms. 

“Don’t worry, he’ll manage,” he says in a suggestive tone. Regulus is glad his face is full of food, or else he’d have to think up something to say. He only nods, then looks down to hide any color in his cheeks. Sirius doesn’t even seem to notice. He turns on his heel after an eye roll, and pulls the door open. He takes the extra power to slam it shut, too. Just to show his anger. 

James crosses his arms over his chest and pouts. It’s the cutest thing Regulus has ever seen. “I can’t believe he told you first,” he says quietly. Regulus lightly picks at some more food. “He only told me just yesterday,” Regulus says with a small smile. James looks pitiful. “Best friend my ass,” he says bitterly. James stays quiet to let Regulus eat some more. After a full stomach, James gets to his feet. 

“Don’t worry about that, the House Elves will get it,” James says, waving Regulus off from cleaning up. “When’s your first class?” James asks. “Defense Against the Dark Arts. Not for another hour though,” he says, glancing at the digital clock on Remus’s nightstand. James smiles, and plops himself down on his bed. Just like he did last night, he pats the empty spot next to him. This time, Regulus takes it. 

They sit close on the bed, knees knocking together. James takes an excited breath. “So, tell me everything,” he says. Regulus feigns ignorance. “About?” James nudges him playfully. “About me, I guess. What do I smell like?” Regulus despises the cockiness in his voice. But he smiles anyway. Regulus closes his eyes, somehow able to reimagine the smell this way. 

“First, you smell like those terrible candies you always eat.” James gasps. “Lemon drops! They’re the best!” James reaches over to his bedside table, and opens the drawer. He takes out two of those exact candies, and offers one to Regulus, who refuses. James unwraps one, and pops it into his mouth. “You also smell like…hair gel? Or, product, or spray. Something chemically.” 

“Courtesy of Mister Fleamont, I’m assuming?” James questions, chewing on the candy happily. “And also, something like fur. Which, now that I know, is probably you being a deer?” James makes a sucking sound as the sourness seeps against his tongue. “Stag,” James corrects. Regulus ignores him. “You smell like ashes. Or, like burning wood. And fresh air. Almost like the wind.”

“Quidditch,” James answers promptly. He beams, and something twinkles in his eyes. The back of his hand hits Regulus’s shoulder. “No wonder I smelled leather,” he says, “your Quidditch gloves. Of course.” Regulus tucks his chin, and looks down at his hands. “So… I smell of licorice, eucalyptus, leather, and berries?” He questions, not sounding too happy about it. 

James furrows his brows, teeth chattering against the lemon drop every so often. “I don’t have that good of a nose. But…yeah. I guess I also sort of smelled ink. Like the same stuff we use in our classes. Very faintly. At least, I think. Yesterday, in your class, I did smell something new though.” This piques Regulus’s interest. “What was it?” 

“Paint.”

Regulus smiles to himself. He couldn’t believe he was actually having this conversation with James. Getting annoyed with Barty and Evan seemed to be a blessing in disguise. If he hadn’t walked all the way to the other side of the castle, he’d never have met James in the hallway, under his invisibility cloak. They’d probably still just be stealing glances at one another across the Great Hall during meals. 

“Did you know it was me?” Regulus asks, “Last year, I mean.” James thinks about this. He’s finished his lemon drop. His eyes look up to the side. “Not at first. But…I was certain when you and Sirius came over to my house for winter holiday. It was hard to stay around you without you noticing, but… Yeah, everything from the potion, I smelled on you. It was scary, honestly.”

“Why?” 

“Because, by that time, I already knew I liked you. So…it scared me. Because I assumed nothing would come of it.” Regulus understands that. He’s lived it. He could’ve still been living it if it hadn’t been for his thin patience and Barty’s shameless acts of advance towards Evan. He secretly thanks him. “You already knew? What made you like me?” James smiles fondly. “The first time I realized it?” He eyes Regulus with admiration. “Do you remember last year’s final Quidditch match?” Regulus nods. “Between Gryffindor and Slytherin, yes.” 

“You were the Seeker then, too. Your hair was a bit longer. And you were a bit shorter. It was raining like crazy that day, and we were all drenched and could barely see half a yard in front of us. I scored the first two goals. And then two of your chasers scored three goals. And then, after almost an hour, our team scored again. And another hour later, neither of our teams had scored any goals. Until, finally when the sun had started to set, you flew past me on your broom, chasing something. At the same time, a beater hit the quaffle off, and it went straight for you. But you didn’t even flinch. You were too busy—I think you’d seen the snitch. 

“So, the quaffle came right at you, but before it hit you, you spinned around on your broom, and hit the quaffle away. You didn’t miss a beat, you just kept on after the snitch. But, when your broom hit the quaffle, it was coming straight for me. You were, too. You dived down, with your hand reaching out into the air—I couldn’t even see the snitch, I don’t get how you do it—and, anyways, I didn’t move out of the way of the quaffle. It smacked me right on the back of my head. And I went forward, and ran into you, which gave you enough momentum to finally catch the snitch. And you won the game. Because you distracted me.”

“I won the game because I’m a good seeker.”

“Oh, you’re the best seeker. But I did sort of help you. I literally gave you a push.” Before Regulus can argue, James continues. “And I couldn’t recover because you looked too good. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. Your hair was long, and wet, and—,”

“Yeah, we were in the rain, James.”

“Right, yeah. But I’d been watching you the whole game. You probably don’t remember this, but…after I’d scored the first two goals, you flew up to me. We were much higher than everybody else. And you said something to me.” Regulus strains to remember this occurring. He remembers catching the snitch, and winning the game. But he doesn’t remember ever speaking to James. Probably because any interaction he’d had with him, he’s mentally torn up and burned in an incinerator. 

“What did I say?” 

James laughs at the recollection. “You said, ‘Potter, you do know that you aren’t the only one playing the game, right?’” Regulus wrinkles up his nose. “Yeah, that sounds like me,” he says bashfully. “It was you. It was mean, but…truthful. After you said that, I honestly stopped playing. I only ever spent my time finding you in the air. And when I did, I’d only look at you.” Oh… Now the memory is starting to defog. It seemed to have been buried deep into the back of his mind. Slowly, he starts to remember. 

“I think that’s why you won. Because I was too distracted by you,” James says cockily. Regulus scoffs. “Oh, really? I thought it was because I was the best seeker?” He counters. James nods. “Oh, you are. But I would’ve scored so much that by the time you did catch the snitch, I’d have won anyways.” Regulus nods slowly. “Right. Okay. That’s why you lost. Because I checked your gigantic ego.” 

“My teammates had my head for it, you know. After you won—I dunno if you remember this either—but we’d just come off the field, and gone inside. Our team passed yours. And you were still holding your broom—the one that Sirius got you for your fourteenth birthday—and you scowled at me.” Regulus does remember that part. He remembers how James’s stares had made him feel. But he pretends he doesn’t remember at all. “Did I say anything to you then?” He asks, just to see if James could recall. 

James beams. “You said, and I quote, ‘You’re a better audience member than you are a chaser.’ And then you proceeded to embarrass me in front of our teams for gawking at you the entire game. You told me you were glad the quaffle hit me—because something had to knock some sense into me—and you said you hoped it hurt. Then I said that you were hurting me more than the quaffle. And you said, ‘Good. I hope I am. Now you know how it feels.’”

After his perfect recollection, he falls silent. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips, like it’s a fond memory. It isn’t for Regulus. It was mortifying, because it had given him false hope. Though, now, it doesn’t seem like it was so false after all. “Yeah, I remember now,” Regulus mutters, hanging his head. He’d forced himself to forget that game, and its aftermath, because of how involved James was with him. It hurt him, because he’d always assumed James’s stares were just something rivalrous or maybe borderline curious. 

They weren’t. 

“I’m sorry, Reg,” James says suddenly, warm doe eyes piercing into him. Regulus feels his face heat up. “Why?” He asks in a small voice. James looks like he wants to reach out for Regulus; he doesn’t, though. “Because…I guess because I never told you?” Regulus shrugs, and shakes his head. “You told me eventually,” he says. “But I could have told you sooner. Maybe, then, you wouldn’t have been so hurt because of me.”

When Regulus doesn’t respond, James keeps on going with his explanation. “I thought you despised me. I knew that, like you said, I’m just your older brother’s best friend. And when you said it, I knew you were right. But I figured, you know, maybe, if I tried to show you I was more than that, it’d mean something to you.” He pauses to gauge Regulus’s reaction: aloof. He sighs. “For an entire year, I’ve done nothing but look. I haven’t spoken to you, or hung out with you because I thought that’s what you wanted. 

“And the entire time, all I did was feel guilty.”

“Guilty?” 

James nods. “Guilty. Selfish. I was so scared of what Sirius would say, so I didn’t tell him. I told Remus. He understood as much as someone could, regarding how complex our situation was. Is. He’s helped me through it, and given me confidence to—to do something about it. And finally, on my way back to the common room, I saw you, and it was like I was sleepwalking. I thought I must be dreaming. I know that you weren’t there for me, but it was nice to pretend that you could’ve been.”

Regulus sighs fondly, and shakes his head. “I may not have been there for you, but…you’re the reason why I kept coming back. I’m glad you were out breaking the rules,” Regulus says, an absentminded smile on his face. James grins sheepishly. “I’m glad you were, too… For, like, the first time ever.” James and Regulus share a quiet laugh. It becomes quiet between them again. 

James is the first one to speak again, as always. 

“Would you…would mind breaking the rules again? Like…tonight?” He wonders, but there’s something in his tone that borderlines crippling nervousness. Regulus scoffs, as if the answer is obvious. But he pretends to think about it, eyes flicking up to the high ceiling. “Hmm…I’m not sure…I’ll have to check my schedule,” he murmurs. James grins, lopsided and crooked, and softly nudges into Regulus’s side. Regulus hangs his head to hide his smile. “I might be able to see what I can do…why?” 

James draws in a deep breath, willing himself to answer confidently. “Well… I was thinking, maybe we could…sneak out. Have ourselves a little time away from the castle.” Regulus’s eyes gleam at the suggestion. He really never was one to break rules. But now, with James, it’s more exciting than nerve wracking now. He mindlessly swings his legs. “...Okay,” he decides quietly. James smiles, soft and relieved. “Yeah?” Regulus nods. “Yeah.” 

“Perfect. Meet me by the Fat Lady after curfew. I’ll smuggle us out,” James says, a mischievous little chuckle leaving his lips. Regulus pretends his heart doesn’t do a somersault. “Sure,” he agrees, “We better not get caught again.” James waves him off casually. “Filch can’t catch us. Not if we’re fast enough,” James declares. Regulus rolls his eyes at James’s confidence. But, deep down, there’s a solid fondness that settles inside his stomach. And now, he only has to get through the day before he gets to spend a night away with James. 

James practically gnawed Remus’s ear off during Advanced Potions class about his and Regulus’s date. Remus had only been trying to focus, but god forbid he ever got to listen to the professors during a class. His friends forbade learning in the worst of times. But Remus was patient, as always. He agreed to help James by distracting Filch with “prefect business in the library,” so that James could sneak himself and Regulus out of the castle seamlessly. During Herbology, James was able to remove himself from the greenhouses momentarily to set up a tiny, shallow alcove inside the Forbidden Forest; not too deep where the magical creatures could be disturbed, but not so close to where they could be seen by any staff that could be patrolling around the castle.

That night, Regulus met James outside the Fat Lady portrait, who, of course, was angrily mumbling about how Little Sirius was blocking her view from the portrait of Sir Cadogan–the handsomest and bravest knight she’d ever seen. James saved Regulus from her grumblings, sweeping him up by his forearm and tugging him under the Invisibility Cloak. “I really do hate this thing,” Regulus had muttered to him as they traversed down to the ground level of the castle. James wished again that Regulus would show respect to his pride and joy.

Regulus was about to complain how far they’d been walking, when James tugs off the cloak just before the brush of trees of the Forbidden Forest. Regulus raises an eyebrow. “The Forest? Really?” He asks, unsure. James only shrugs. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Regulus says. James takes his wrist, and pulls him into a small opening between the dark bushes. “Relax. We won’t be going far.” Regulus swallows hard, cheeks feeling warmer the longer James holds onto him.

True to James’s word, they don’t go very far. 

They enter a small clearing through some trees. And the sight is beautiful. Regulus stares around in awe. There’s a mid-sized, glittering pond. Next to it is a dark blue square blanket. And blinking around above it is a large group of fireflies. There’s small, faint chirps of insects that fill the empty space in the air. It’s cozy. Regulus notices a lump of logs in the corner. “You’ve been here before,” Regulus comments, remembering James’s story about his detention of having to collect firewood. James smiles, and wanders near the blanket. “You actually listen to me,” he says, feigning surprise. “It’s sort of hard not to, with how loud you are.” 

Regulus follows suit as James sits down on the blanket. “Ha-ha,” James says sarcastically. They sit down together. James tips his head back. Regulus does the same. And from this area of the Forbidden Forest, they have a clear view of the stars. It’s beautiful. “It’s nice out here,” he murmurs, not wanting to disturb the calm quiet that’s settled around them. James looks back down, gaze locking with Regulus’s. “I figured the ground would be safer. Since you’re scared of heights.” God, James is so considerate. How was Regulus ever dismissive to the poor boy? “It is,” Regulus says, indirectly voicing his appreciation. 

They lay there for a good while, pointing out the stars. Regulus talked all about their histories and origins. James happily listened. By the end of their stargazing escapade, James turns his head to look at Regulus. He gives him a cheesy smile. “Would it be cringy of me to say that you’re my favorite star?” Regulus huffs and rolls his eyes. “Yes. Greatly,” he responds, but he’s smiling anyway. “It’s worth it. I made you smile.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I’m sure I did.” 

“You’re blind.”

“That’s what my glasses are for, love.” 

Regulus bites the inside of his cheek. His cheeks feel hot again. He tries to ignore it. James eases back, sitting himself up on his elbows. “Hey, so what do you think about Mittens?” James asks randomly. Regulus is glad that James hadn’t teased him for blushing. He sits up, too, and looks over confusedly. “They’re, um…good for your hands, I guess? Nice and warm.” 

James laughs, and shakes his head. “No, not the ones for your hands,” he says, as if it were obvious. He looks into Regulus’s eyes. “I meant for your nickname.” Regulus stares back at him, perplexed. Right. His Marauders nickname. He presses his lips together. “I’m not an animagus,” he says, feeling far too fuzzy about a silly little nickname. James smiles. “You don’t have to be,” he answers promptly. He sits up fully, and starts to emphasize with his arms in the air. 

“I can picture it just fine enough,” he says. 

“Well, you do have an overactive imagination,” Regulus retorts. 

James ignores him. “In my head, you’d be a black cat. An adorable little kitten.” Regulus scowls, but James continues on, “You’re much like one already. The way you wander around all sly and quiet. As slick as a shadow. You’re agile, quick to think on your feet. You’re intelligent.” Regulus rolls his eyes fondly. “Oh, yeah, just keep buttering me up,” he mutters. James flashes him a quick smile. “You’re a small, lean little cat. And you’ve got these big, bright blue eyes. And, I dunno, Mittens is a cute name for a kitten.” 

“I see you’ve got it all figured out,” Regulus says with a smile. James nods. “Why even ask for my opinion?” Regulus asks playfully. James rolls his eyes, a grin spreading on his lips. “Well, I figured, like… Pads and Prongs–they both start with P,” he says. “Don’t use that head of yours too hard now, James,” Regulus cuts in. James waves him off, excited to fully explain the name choice. “So, Moony and Mittens. Cute, right?” 

“What if I were a…I dunno, dragonfly? Or a flea; I could infest Sirius’s nappy fur that way, maybe,” Regulus suggests, “I think the name Mittens falls short that way, don’t you think?” James huffs out a laugh. “Or, what if I’m a hedgehog? Mittens the hedgehog,” Regulus continues teasingly. James lets out a dramatic sound. “Just tell me you hate me, then,” he says petulantly. “Oh, you’re so dramatic,” Regulus counters, his tone nothing but fond. 

“I have a second option,” James tells him. Regulus barks out a laugh. “Let’s hear it. Can’t be any worse than Mittens.” James scoffs. He uses his hands again, this time motioning up to the darkening night sky. “Midnight,” he answers. Regulus pauses, thinking over the nickname. It’s definitely much more refined than Mittens. James continues his second explanation, less confident this time. 

“You’re a night owl. You love the night sky. The stars. Midnight is a mysterious time. But it’s…it’s also breathtaking,” he says, eyes lingering on Regulus for a beat too long, “Just like you.” Regulus’s chest tightens. He tucks his chin into his chest, a ploy to cover up his approving smile. James smiles, too. He leans in, and softly tugs Regulus forward, closing the gap between them. “Okay?” He murmurs, wanting to be sure. Regulus smiles, and nods. “Okay.” 

James’s lips meet with Regulus’s. They both smile into it, sharing the warmth and fuzziness. It feels right, like this is always what they were meant to be for one another. And now that they’ve gotten this far, Regulus doesn’t want to let it go. After a few more small, chaste kisses, they pull away from each other, avoiding eye contact and smiling like lovesick idiots. 

The silence bleeds on, but it’s comfortable. 

James quietly interrupts it. “Y’know…you never gave me your opinion,” he says. Regulus glances over at him. “On what?” He wonders. He tries to think back to recent conversations, not being able to place any moment where he could’ve given his opinion to James. James smiles patiently. “When I said I love you.” 

Oh…

Regulus swallows, and shifts uncomfortably on the blanket. James notices. He waits patiently, not pressing the matter any further. As far as he’s concerned, Regulus could ignore him right now, and James would find a way to lighten up the conversation–make it less permanent and serious. But Regulus does speak, eventually. His voice is quiet, and a bit shaky. 

“My opinion is that you’re an idiot,” he says, although he doesn’t sound malicious. James even grins. “Well, you’ve known that for a while now, haven’t you?” Regulus smiles, too, faint but present. It soon fades, as his expression becomes more serious. “Does it not frighten you at all?” He wonders. 

“Loving you? Never could,” James says certainly. Regulus would kill for his sureness. He has a lot of downfalls, but indecisiveness and insecurity are massive ones. He fumbles with his hands, looking down at them. “I just… I don’t know,” he mumbles honestly. Once again, James is patient. Always so patient. 

“What do you think’s stopping you?” 

“From knowing?”

“From accepting,” James corrects softly. 

Regulus sighs quietly. “Maybe Sirius,” he says, “Maybe myself. Maybe both.” James nods understandingly. He shifts a bit on the blanket, to face Regulus. “You know…after that Amortentia lesson of ours last year, Pads and I talked about it. What we’d smelled. Since the beginning, it was clear to me he’d smelled Moony. And I was honest about mine. He seemed stumped by it. But… I think more recently, he’s started to catch on.” 

That makes Regulus paranoid. “Catch on?” 

“Like…ever since you’ve been staying in our dorm, he’d make little comments. Give me little faces. I think he knows. He’s just…maybe ignoring it,” James theorizes. Regulus sighs from his nostrils. “You know, if he’s ignoring it, it’s because he doesn’t like it.” James shakes his head. “Not necessarily.” 

“I just don’t want him to hate me,” Regulus confesses. James’s expression softens. “He won’t,” he assures. Regulus clicks his tongue. James furrows his brows. “Do you want this?” He asks. The question is enough for a lump to form at the base of Regulus’s throat. James pauses for a moment before continuing. “I want this. More than anything. And… I think, if we just tell him together, he…he’d understand.” 

Regulus gives James a grim smile. “I think you have too much faith in him.” 

“I think you have too little.” 

Regulus shoots him a short glare. James grimaces. “Look–I don’t want this to cause an argument. If you’re not ready to tell him, I get it. I’m not trying to pressure you. I’m only saying that this doesn’t have to be so stressful and difficult. I don’t want you to keep thinking so negatively about things,” he explains calmly. Regulus considers his words. 

He thinks about it for a long moment. James gives him the time. 

“If we were to tell him–if…I want Remus to be there, too.” A random request. But the corner of James’s lips pull up into a knowing smirk. “Right. Sirius would never commit murder under the watchful eye of his loving boyfriend,” he says. Regulus rolls his eyes at James’s casualness. “Remus actually has a brain in his head. And he’s good at this thing called maturity,” Regulus retorts. James lets go of any counter he might be thinking of. “Okay. Moony will need to be there. Any more prerequisites?” 

Regulus gives him a tired frown, as if James isn’t taking this seriously enough. James notices, so he clears his throat, and fixes his face, smile slipping. He gently reaches for Regulus’s hand, and holds it firmly. He looks into his eyes. “I want you to be comfortable. I won’t force anything. If you’re not ready, just tell me,” he says. He pauses, then adds, “If you are, I will do anything to make sure you feel safe and prepared. I won’t let you feel like you’re being cornered or coerced.” 

Regulus feels a lot lighter, more relaxed. He nods faintly. 

“I…I think that I should be the one to tell him. He told me about Remus, so… I think it’s fair to him. The most fair I can be, at least.” James nods. “Okay. Do you want me to say anything?” Regulus thinks about it. “Only if a question is directed at you.” James cracks a smile--he thinks Regulus is too cute for his own good. He nods again, and mocks zipping up his lips with his free hand. “Done. I will be silent until spoken to,” he promises. Regulus raises an eyebrow, feeling a bit more lighthearted now after talking through it. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“When do you want to see it?” James asks gently. Translation: “When do you want to tell him?” Regulus pauses again. After a few moments, he squeezes James’s hand. “If he seems to be in good spirits…maybe tomorrow,” he says, tone raising up slightly in question. James grins like a madman. He nods firmly. “I’ll be sure to get Moony to butter him up all day.” Regulus rolls his eyes. “You’ve relied on him for far too much recently.” 

“We rely on each other, my little nightingale. That’s what we do.” Regulus’s nose scrunches fondly at the nickname. James is relentless about this Midnight name. “Nightingale? You’re insufferable.” James releases Regulus’s hand, only to gingerly cup his cheek. “How about Mid? Midge? Middy?” He lists off excitedly, his brown eyes peeling off into a warmed orange tone as the fireflies blink in and out of existence. “You honestly think calling me Middy won’t make me hex you?” He asks sarcastically. 

“You’d never hex this pretty face, Middy.” 

Regulus offers him a pinched smile. “The night’s still young.” 

Obnoxiously, James spent the rest of their time gushing about all the different nicknames for Midnight, urging Regulus that Padfoot had Pads. But Regulus kept refuting that there was no shortened version of Prongs. “But I’m called ‘Prongsie,’” he protested. “That’s even longer,” Regulus said. “Only by two letters,” said James. Then, he chanted over and over, annoyingly fond of his new “example of creativity.” “Padfoot and Prongs! Moony and Midnight!” He had mentioned that all they needed now was a counterpart for Wormtail. Regulus told him to stop being so ambitiously idealistic for once in his life. 

Regulus tried to get out of the talk. James wouldn’t allow him to pull out because of fear. He instilled him with confidence and reassurance the whole day. It helped out some… Until Regulus was staring Sirius in the face in the Marauders’ dorm. All the words of encouragement washed from Regulus’s brain like he was doused with a bucket of ice water. 

Remus sits on his bed, physically distant, but present. James is also on his own bed. The two brothers are on the floor in front of the small mobile fireplace Remus had conjured previously. Sirius watches the ashes disperse from the flames for a moment, before looking over to his brother. Regulus feels all the words fail him once again. James clears his throat. Sirius glances at him. “Is it somebody’s funeral?” He asks jokingly. The other three exchange quick looks of ironic anxiousness. 

Sirius frowns. “What?” 

“Regulus wanted to tell you something,” James says. Regulus mentally curses him. Sirius looks to his brother once more, raising an eyebrow. “And this requires an audience?” He asks, tone bordering on suspicious. Regulus swallows harshly. He pulls his sweater sleeves over his hands. “Well… I sort of… I wanted you to hear it from me.” 

“Hear what from you?” 

Regulus’s nostrils flare. “What I’m about to tell you,” he says through gritted teeth. Sirius throws his hands up. “Well, by the time you get it out, I’ll be gray in the hair and wrinkled in the face!” Regulus can feel his eye twitch. He glances at Remus, a silent plea--settle him down before I kill him. Remus raises his eyebrows and sighs. “Remember what we said about patience, Pads?” Remus says, guiding him softly into calmness. Sirius scoffs, but settles. He looks at Regulus once more, his expression flat. 

Regulus gathers his bearings, and exhales sharply. 

“Remember the broom closet conversation?” He asks. Sirius’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. He looks paranoid now, as if Regulus is about to blurt out Sirius’s feelings. Regulus reassures him before he gets any more ideas. “You said I smelled like berries,” he elaborates. Sirius only looks confused now. “So?” Regulus tries to remain collected, but he can feel the irritation bubbling up inside of him. He wishes Sirius could read his mind instead; that’d be so much easier right now. Or--maybe he doesn’t wish for that… Regulus has too many thoughts about James that he doesn’t even let himself linger on, let alone his older brother. 

James breaks his loose promise on being silent, just to help Regulus out a little. 

“My Amortentia last year…do you remember?” He asks, attempting to jog Sirius’s memory. Sirius ponders for a moment. His pensive expression contorts. His eyes widen, his mouth tightens, and then his eyes narrow. He looks between James and Regulus. “You cannot be serious,” he says flatly. James tries to lighten the mood instantly. 

“Not if you are,” he jokes. Now is so not the time for name wordplay. Sirius tunnels in on Regulus instead, completely ignoring James. “So, what’s that mean, then?” He asks, voice clipped. Regulus grits his teeth. “I’m getting to that.” Sirius leans closer. “Get to it faster.” 

“Sirius,” Remus warns. 

“Remus!” Sirius says back, snapping his head to look at him. Remus looks unimpressed by the outburst. He crosses his arms. Regulus gathers Sirius’s attention again when he speaks. “When Slughorn taught our Amortentia lesson, I smelled lemon drops,” he says. Sirius stares, subtly steaming. “Among…other things,” Regulus mumbles. 

“Care to share the other things?” Sirius asks. 

“I think you know the other things,” says Regulus. 

“I think I should hear it from you,” he counters, crossing his arms over his chest. Regulus scoffs; he knew Sirius was going to be stubborn about this. But, ultimately, James was right. If Regulus truly wants this, he has to take the risk. He has to get through this. “All of the things James is,” Regulus says under his breath, looking down at his sleeves again. Sirius is quiet for a moment. Regulus doesn’t dare to look at him. 

“So that’s why it’s ‘James’ now,” he says. 

“Sirius, please don’t be mad--,” Regulus says, but Sirius interrupts him. “No, no! I’m not mad. I’m fine,” he says hurriedly, “Just fine. This is fine.” James and Remus share a look of unease. “This is so fine. Everything about this is fine,” Sirius mumbles, suddenly up on his feet, needing to pace around now. Regulus finally looks up at him. “You could at least try to be supportive,” he grumbles. 

Sirius snaps his head at Remus again. “Supportive!” He repeats hysterically. “He wants me to be supportive, Moony.” Remus gives him an indifferent look; he knows it isn’t his time to intervene. Sirius sucks in a breath, and turns on his heel again. He bores daggers into James. Realizing he’s in Sirius’s eyeline of fire, he shakes his head, about to pull some sort of protest out of his ass. “You,” Sirius says, pointing at him, “I--I fucking knew it!” 

James opens his mouth, but Sirius keeps talking. “I knew it was Regulus, and you made me feel mental for suggesting it!” Sirius scoffs, an exasperated smile on his face. “You said, ‘Don’t even go there, Sirius. You’re crazy.’ Not so crazy after all, am I?” James blinks, and presses his lips together. He looks at Remus, but Sirius slides over to block him. “Don’t look at him. Look at me,” he says. James does. 

At first, James thinks Sirius is going to blatantly explode. Maybe even whip out his wand--maybe even use it. But after the two best friends lock eyes, Sirius sighs softly. He drags a hand over his face. He seems to be less angry, and more confused or hurt. “Why…why did you think you couldn’t tell me?” He asks James. James looks over at Regulus, pathetically for permission to speak. Regulus rolls his eyes and quickly urges him to answer. 

“Well, I didn’t think there was a reason to, back then. I was under the impression that Regulus hated me,” he explains honestly. Sirius locks his gaze on Regulus at that, who jumps in. “I did.” He feels bad, but it’s true. “Back then, I did. Honestly.” James nods in affirmation. Sirius does a dramatic movement with his arms. “Then you’re next. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“This is me telling you, idiot,” Regulus says snippily. 

Sirius scowls. “Don’t be such a brat!” 

“Don’t be such an asshole!” 

James and Remus both roll their eyes and remain on their respective beds. Sirius huffs. “So--okay, so what am I supposed to say about all of this?” He demands, wildly shaking his hands in the air, motioning between James and Regulus. “Whatever you feel like you need to say,” Regulus responds. 

“What, you want me to be overjoyed by my baby brother fancying my best friend?” He asks. James and Regulus glare at Sirius, which makes him sigh, and reluctantly soften up. “Okay, I’m sorry… You’re right.” He runs his fingers through his hair. He pinches the bridge of his nose next. “Okay…so,” he looks between James and Regulus, “This is…real, right? Like, you--you both…?” 

Regulus and James share a look, then they nod. 

“But--Regulus has made it a point to not move forward if you aren’t alright with it,” James says. Sirius furrows his eyebrows. “Reggie,” he says warningly, “Don’t do that.” Regulus tilts his head. “Huh?” Sirius sits back down on the ground, looking determined to get this through Regulus’s head. 

“I don’t care what this is about. Don’t you ever let anyone tell you how to live your life,” he says firmly. Regulus’s eyes go wide. “It’s just like I told you with Mother and Father. Don’t let them run you, or influence you. Yeah? That doesn’t just go for them. I mean anyone.” The brothers stare at each other, silent words passing between them. Sirius swallows, and puts a reluctant hand on Regulus’s shoulder. It’s clear that the two aren’t regularly intimate, or physical. But now, it means a lot to Regulus, even if it’s slightly uncomfortable. 

“I…You know I love you, right, Reggie?” 

Regulus nods stiffly. “Yeah…”

Sirius’s eyes wander between him and James again. He drops his hand. “Then I’ll get over it,” he declares, “It’s weird, don’t get me wrong. But, believe it or not, I’m not stupid--,” Regulus cuts him off quietly with, “That’s debateable.” Sirius ignores him promptly. “I noticed James’s feelings. He’s about as subtle as a gun.” James’s jaw drops dramatically, but stays silent. 

“You’re still my brother,” Sirius assures. He offers James a lazy glance, “And he’s still my best friend. I guess.” James scoffs. “Oh, I only get an ‘I guess?’” Both brothers snap their heads at him, and share a, “Shut up!” James closes his mouth and falls back on his bed with a thump. “Don’t make me change my mind,” Sirius says snippily. James waves him off with a flick of his wrist. The air in the room simmers down slightly. 

“So…we’re good?” Regulus asks. 

“Yeah. We’re good,” Sirius says, giving Regulus a rare, supportive smile. 

“You’re not gonna, like…smother either of us in our sleep tonight?” Regulus asks, a teasing tone bleeding into his voice. Sirius chuckles. “I mean, don’t hold your breath. I can always find something to smother James over.” James quickly pushes himself up. “Why is it always me, hm?” 

“No snogging,” Sirius orders, jutting his finger at James accusingly. Regulus feigns disgust. “No, never,” he says. James raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh, really? No, never? That’s not what you said last night,” he coos. Regulus goes red. Sirius claps his palms over his ears. “Nope! Don’t wanna hear a word of that!” James grins wolfishly. “Still too soon, Pads?” 

“Go to hell!” Sirius exclaims petulantly. 

“Oh, I intend to. I’ll be seeing you there,” he quips. Sirius scoffs, and turns to Remus. “I want out,” he says, crossing his arms like some unamused child. James cackles. “You have to ask for Moony’s permission?” He teases. “Fuck off, you brother stealer.” James smiles. “You first, prefect stealer.” 

“Moony! We’re leaving. Now,” he orders, stomping over and wrenching Remus off his bed by his wrist. “Have fun, you two!” James calls mischievously. Sirius shoots him a downright nasty glare. “Smothering will come to you, I swear it,” he seethes, “Just you wait. You’d better enjoy him while you can, Reg.” James wriggles his eyebrows. “Oh, he will,” he replies suggestively. Sirius’s cheeks only got redder, if that were even possible. Regulus hurries over to James, shushing him promptly. He chases James’s face around to cover his mouth with his hand. James keeps dodging him. 

“Nothing happens on my bed!” Sirius warns. Remus drags him over to the door. 

“Ooh! You’re just feeding me with ideas, Pads!” James says with an innocent smile. Sirius’s nostrils flare. “I swear to Merlin, if you--,” Sirius starts, but Remus quickly opens the door, and shoos Sirius right out of it. He pokes his head back in, and smiles at James and Regulus. “Congratulations, you two,” he says kindly. He leans away, and closes the door. 

Regulus is already slapping James everywhere he can reach. He cackles and twists around the bed, trying to avoid any more hits. “Remus congratulated us, Middy! Can you believe it?” Regulus scoffs, and sits down on the bed next to him. “Will you quit it with that? And why congratulate us? You haven’t even properly asked me out,” Regulus says with a stern pout. 

James’s smile softens. “Oh--I didn’t know that was something I was tasked to do.” He sits up, scooting closer to Regulus. “You know…you could always ask me. Spoiler alert--I’ll say yes.” Regulus rolls his eyes. He looks away momentarily, before James’s fingers graze his chin. He centers his head once more, so that they’re looking at each other. James smiles faintly. 

“Reg…” He starts quietly, “Would you do me the honor of being my boyfriend?” 

Regulus lets out a tiny, disbelieving huff. Sometimes, he still wonders if he’d ever even stepped foot out of the Slytherin common room that first night… Maybe he was still in his bed, alone, dreaming up this whole ordeal… But when he opens his eyes again, and looks at James--really looks at him…he’s comforted with the fact that this--they--are very, very real. His heart swells up inside his chest. 

“Yes,” Regulus answers with a secure smile. 

James grins victoriously. He swoops in, and kisses Regulus in ceremony. He pulls back, just to let his eyes move over Regulus’s face. They’re both silent for a moment, just relishing in each other’s space. James huffs out a quiet laugh. “Thank you so much, Reg,” he says genuinely. Regulus tilts his head and grins. “What for?” He asks, fingers coming up to comb through James’s hair. James leans into the touch. “You came to Gryffindor Tower for your brother. But you settled for me. You trusted me. And I…I just wanted to say thank you.” 

Regulus’s heart flutters. “Well, thank you for offering me to.” 

“I always will,” James says certainly. Regulus leans in just a bit closer. “Always?” James smiles, and looks down for just a moment. He comes back up, his lips catching Regulus’s in yet another sweet, loving kiss. He pulls away, but doesn’t go far. He rests his forehead against Regulus’s, breathing in his air. They remain like this for a couple of moments. And Regulus is finally happy. James nods faintly, to answer Regulus’s one-worded question. And he even verbally confirms Regulus’s subtle uncertainty. 

“Until the very end, Regulus.”