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A nervous-looking servant comes up to Regulus and asks if there’s anything he wants, and while he does his best to keep the growl from his voice, there’s still a bit of fear that the poor kid wears as he rushes away to fetch a bottle of Regulus’ favorite port. It’s not his fault the crowd around him is joyous, elated, and celebrating the legitimization of Harry while Regulus stands about bitterly.
Regulus has never felt more uncomfortable. Nigh on ill, and not in the way that bodes a child of his own on the way, he attempts to avoid mingling with guests as impossible a task that is. He has on his best robes, the flashiest crown the throne has gifted him in the past few years, and a porcelain smile. Still, none of it cures the fact he’s standing beside his husband of three years, with a two-year-old child that isn’t theirs, legitimizing him as the current heir to the throne. A prince.
James is proud, greeting strangers and courtiers in waves, his arm possessively around Regulus’ waist.
Said little prince is with his mother, Regulus’ king’s maid, in a different corner of the room waving shyly at those who approach them. He’s overwhelmed by this many people, too, so despite it all, Regulus find himself feeling a kinship with they boy. Prince.
“I’m going to say hello to your son,” Regulus says, excusing himself from his husband’s hold and thanking the servant who finally offers him his port, bottle and glass, though Regulus only takes the bottle.
He ignores all calls of his name, approaching the little family with a smile.
“Lady Lily.”
Lily looks up and grins back, warm and comfortable in her chair with her son in her lap.
“Harry, look, it’s King Regulus!”
His little eyes go wide as he whips his head around from the charmed and floating paper dragon he was distracted with and then he grins, little teeth all on display. Arms reach out to him, and Regulus looks warily at Lily before taking the boy from her.
He’s the only one who has been allowed to hold Harry outside of his nurse’s maid, his mother, Sirius, and James.
Harry is perfect. In fact, the healers all say he is progressing ahead of babes his age, and though he hasn’t shown any accidental magic yet, neither parent is worried. Magic is strong in the Potter kingdom, unlike Regulus’ old home.
“Hey little one, how about a hug?”
While Regulus has him in his arms already, it’s always nice to ask the little ones if it’s okay to love on them.
Harry nods so enthusiastically that Regulus has to adjust his balance as he gets two little arms tossed around his neck. He shifts the boy to his center and holds on tight.
“I’m going to stretch my legs, if that’s alright?”
The position Lily holds is exclusively because of her son, having been a commoner before the boy was born. Still, it means she is beholden to Regulus’ command and company. He would never abuse that power, but his aching heart does suggest the idea at every turn. Good impulse control and a love for the man whose son he’s holding keeps his nasty mind from lashing out at his friend.
“Of course, Lily. Whatever you want.”
She brushes his shoulder, kisses Harry’s head, and bleeds into the crowd.
Regulus takes her spot, sitting with Harry in his lap as he starts to babble and ask him silly questions. The boy is venturing on tired at this point and his head lulls every so often, but Regulus can tell he’s fighting it. Rocking him doesn’t seem to help, so he stands again and bounces him gently, watching as his little crown shifts and then falls.
He almost saves it wandlessly, but the crown falls short of the stone floor by magic that isn’t his and Regulus looks up to find his husband but inches away.
“I’ve got it,” James says with a wink, his voice gentle even over the din of the room. “You’ve got precious cargo.”
Regulus wishes that were true in more than one way. Harry is precious, of course, and he will love him as though he is a brother or a nephew, but the child is not his and it grates on him.
“You should call his maid. His bed is probably the best place for him now.”
James nods, solemnly, but takes Harry instead and says, “I’ll handle it. I’m his father.”
Regulus has been trying to get James to treat his now royal son like a royal child, but it never works, and he knows even now the push is just as useless.
“Mind if I go with you?”
James, a professional at handling his son with one arm, slips his free one around Regulus’ waist again and kisses his cheek.
“Tired of the crowds?”
Regulus nods. It’s a good enough answer.
“Of course, I don’t think little man will object. Let me tell Lily first.”
The flare of nausea is certainly nothing to do with his overconsumption of port wine.
While he lingers on the edge of the party, Regulus catches Sirius’ eye and beckons him over. Much in the opposite vein of Regulus, his heart was broken by the woman he wanted to marry when she left him for another. Technically a prince in two countries, he is a catch by any means, but with a shattered heart, there isn’t much of him left to give and Sirius remains alone.
“You look glum.”
“Mhm, may as well have a dementor for a brother,” Sirius mumbles and then sips his wine.
Not ever having been one for feelings, his husband’s son a great example of that fault of his, Regulus doesn’t know how to handle his brother’s moping.
“Someone will come along for you one day, Siri.”
Sirius chuckles a bit and then looks into his wine.
“I don’t know. Sometimes I feel ancient, like the clock is ticking but no one can hear or no one else cares-”
Regulus snorts at his brother’s inability to look at himself and truly see all the good there. At least some things never change. Sirius is only twenty-two and has ages ahead of him to find the right person to be with him forever. Also helps that he's not discriminatory in his lovers like Regulus’ own preference for exclusively men.
“You’re very handsome, brother. Don’t make me say it again.”
Sirius grins.
“Thank you. Anyways, it’s been a good day. Harry… sorry,” Sirius aborts his sentence.
“What?” Regulus asks, and his brother just dismisses him. “No, say what you were going to say. I promise it won’t hurt my feelings.”
Wary but obviously wanting to continue his conversation, Sirius says, “Harry will make a great king one day… if it comes to that.”
Regulus frowns and puts a hand over his abdomen, willing something he has no control over.
“He will.”
And with a flurry of activity, James is back, Harry asleep on his shoulder.
“Good evening, you two. My favorite men.”
Regulus just snorts and excuses himself from his brother’s company, ignoring the solemn look he’s giving him and taking James’ hand when he offers it.
They make it through the rest of the room as the guests bow and offer their congratulations, out into the cool halls of the castle filled with far less bustle and haste. After putting Harry in his room and making sure his nurse has everything she needs, they exit into the much quieter halls of the royal wing, conferring with the guards.
Regulus clears his throat as they walk on, and prods, gently, “What are we going to do with Sirius, James?”
“I don’t know yet. Lady McKinnon broke his heart when she left the country,” James sighs.
Regulus nods. He’s not sure he should’ve brought it up as the topic has definitely ruined the mood.
“He’s mentioned joining the forces occasionally when we’re in chamber meetings,” James adds tentatively.
“Surely you won’t permit that?”
James huffs and shakes his head.
“I can’t say for sure, Reg. We do crazy things when our hearts are broken.”
“If you don’t stop him, I will,” Regulus declares, not willing to let his brother fight in the war Riddle dredging up in the Black Lands. It’s lucky enough Regulus was married off here almost three years ago before Riddle killed his parents.
And yes, he’s intentionally ignoring James’ dig at their past.
“If he is passionate about fighting, I will let him. I might as well, but General Longbottom says we should have things in hand, needs must, and my presence would do better if the time comes that spirits are down.”
Regulus doesn’t like the idea of either of them joining the front of a war that may not even happen. Just the hypothetical makes his grip on his port bottle constrict like a snake.
Luckily, his husband moves on from the topic.
“Thank you… by the way. For today.”
“Harry will make a good king one day,” Regulus echoes his brother’s words, the emptiness inside him cavernous and killing him.
“Only-” James falters and sighs, then they’re rushing to their rooms a few seconds ahead, hitting Regulus’ chambers first.
James tosses the door open and is shutting it closed behind Regulus by a dangerously close margin, then they’re back up against it, his leg hoisted onto his husband’s hip. What the guards must be thinking of them.
“Harry is my son, and I love him, but he isn’t destined for my throne. One of our children is. Sybil has said so, and I won’t give up on you. It’s why I held out so long on legitimizing Harry because I know it will never be him, but I appeased the council with war looming and now… now I’m going to appease my husband. Satisfy and completely ruin him. Put a baby in him and prove all those nosy bastards wrong about you.”
Regulus finds the idea romantic, if not a bit idealistic. They’ve been trying for their entire marriage… almost three years now, and nothing. While the first month or so was rocky, with Regulus living to shame even the most common of two-knut-whores and driving James back to Lily’s bed, the problem clearly didn’t lie with James. He’d fathered Harry, after all, on only one night with the commoner he’d named as an official Consort of the King two years before their marriage.
James hadn’t anticipated falling for his husband, leaving Lily heartbroken and essentially useless. And Regulus hadn’t anticipated seeing the kind King’s heartbreak making him feel something for the first time in his life. Even worse, Regulus thinks back as his husband kisses his neck with heat and magic, for James to have found him with a knight in his bed.
He and his brother didn’t have a nurturing childhood, nor especially good roll models in their king and queen who both took consorts to bed like servants took orders.
Regulus had begged for James affections again after, waning him down and falling in love with him in return over three months. And just as they started to build a love nothing could break, Lily announced her pregnancy and jilted them again. Titles were moved around, James’ council recommended several different paths, but in the end, Lily had the baby, and now he is Prince Harry of the Potter Kingdom.
And Regulus? He still hasn’t given his king a child. No matter how in love they are now, that they copulate like rabbits, nor that the magic is there for things to be just right… there is no true prince or princess to speak of.
James, however, hasn’t lost faith in him, it seems. He makes love to him every time like they will conceive, and even sometimes just for the fun of it. Tonight is no different. They perform the spells, and the evening ends in bliss, his bed full of a husband who is sure he will make them both fathers by dawn if by sheer will and want alone. For a wizard in a world of literal magic, Regulus himself is reluctant to believe him, his king, that this time will be any different.
Regulus is sitting in a council meeting just a few weeks later, going over Harry’s reception as the current heir and the brewing conflict to the East. The public adores Harry, and while some are curious what James is still doing with Regulus, that topic is not up for debate. His husband moves on quickly, dismissing Albus Dumbledore’s concerns outright.
He instead asks about the readiness of their troops to his General.
Longbottom goes over the stock of their arsenal, what magic can facilitate and what it cannot. Marchioness McGonagall briefs on wartime supplies outside of artillery, rations and storage for winter, while the Prewett twins argue about what to trade for the few things their prepared country is lacking… even when their Clairvoyant, Sybil, argues one of them won’t be needed.
Just as a compromise comes to order and the meeting winds down, they order drinks and food to commence their mid-day meal. Regulus’ port is delivered to him without having to oder it, and before he can even taste it, the smell makes him gag.
No one notices, luckily, as he is not a heavy participant in wartime affairs, meanwhile, he tries again to get some of the deep red liquid down, feeling the lurch of his stomach. He has to excuse himself, there’s no other thing for it. His chair slides back, and he exits the guarded chamber, barely making it a few more steps before he’s heaving onto the stone floor. One of his attendants is with him immediately, cleaning up the mess and sending a cooling charm over him to help. His nausea does lesson, and with a nonverbal spell, his mouth is clean and all that remains is a faint sick feeling.
He sends a guard for James, telling them to nick the glass as well.
They have spells that all chambers and glassware possess to prevent poisoning, so he knows it’s not that. However, he has an idea that the specific bottle he was handed is either spoilt or off somehow.
When his husband finds him plastered against the wall, head between his knees, James hands him the glass he requested.
Regulus pushes it back as he raises his head and frowns.
“Does it smell off to you?”
James furrows his brows and sniffs the port, then tastes it.
“No. It’s fine, love.”
He hands it back and just the waft of it he gets makes him retch again. James is immediately there, rubbing his back and whispering another colling charm. But Regulus… he has an idea.
“Take me back to my rooms, please.”
He’s nervous at first, that his demand to the bloody king of all people is going to get denied, but if he, King Regulus of the Potter Kingdom, can’t demand things of his king, then who can?
“Of course, love.”
They’re followed by a small entourage who leave them at the door to Regulus’ chambers, asking if a healer should be sent. James confirms against his own protests, and then they’re encased in his sitting room alone.
He has the spell memorized. Of course he does. It’s been cast over him for three years, and as he shakily withdraws his wand and closes his eyes, he prays not to see the familiar red light.
James stays respectfully quiet as they stand there, but he knows this spell. He wouldn’t have put the pieces together so quickly, but it’s clear by the hitch in his breath that something is up. Whether it’s the surprise that Regulus has cast the spell on his own or the fact that he’s pregnant would mean that Regulus needs to open his eyes.
Before he does, however, James whispers, “Oh, love,” in a teary voice and then engulfs him in an embrace.
Regulus finally pries his eyes open over his husband’s shoulder and chokes up at the sight of the white light emanating from his wand.
“Oh. I’m pregnant.”
James just laughs, and they’re both giddy, kissing and getting just a tad too close to getting it on when the healer arrives to confirm their suspicions.
They choose to wait a while to tell the council after the healer advises how fragile the first couple months can be. He’s only about eight weeks according to the healer, which coincides directly with the timing of Harry’s legitimization. James is definitely not smug about it.
They do, however, celebrate with Sirius and Lily, having a small soiree in Regulus’ chambers with food and drinks aplenty.
The following day, they are awoken to news that Riddle has successfully taken over the Black Lands, that Queen Walburga and King Orion are dead, and sooner than later, Riddle will be on the edge of their lands.
Remus Lupin feels confident they are going to win this war. There isn’t much doubt in the ranks, either, as everyone is anticipating the arrival of their new regent, imminent as that is. The baby gives them something more to fight for, an edge Riddle doesn’t have.
At first, General Longbottom and all of his lieutenants, Remus included, were called to more frequent meetings with King James, weekly reporting how their troops are faring and if they’ve properly set up. He asks what they need, what he can provide them, and then if they’re lucky, he only talks about his incoming baby a little bit. Assuring the king that the soldiers are ready usually gives him the green light to brag.
Remus is a bit jealous of their king. He’s always wanted a family, someone to share his bed and to give him children, but making a career in the Potter ranks had ended up taking priority. He signed up at sixteen with nothing to his name and managed to be obedient enough to be kept around and outspoken enough to move up through the ranks. He had made few friends and even fewer mistakes. With a comprehensive education thanks to his librarian mother who made just enough to keep them housed and fed, the rest was hard work and simply being recognized for it.
While working under General Longbottom, it was clear the man liked him, and Remus may even consider him a friend, but more importantly, he liked the way Remus led his men and had made him a second-in-command with a notice from the king and everything. At only thirty-six.
Now, as he stands next to the other lieutenant generals, one of whom is Longbottom’s wife, Alice, they wrap up their head-brass meeting and apparate back to their camps settled along the eastern border where the Black Lands loom. They have their directives from the general, and faith in one-another to fend off Riddle. General Longbottom is a brilliant man despite being younger than most in his position, and Riddle’s minions aren’t all as loyal as he thinks they are.
He heads back to his tent after a quick glance to the other encampments on the horizon and finds someone inside of it, escorted by one of his colonels. The stranger is in an impeccably clean uniform, his hair tied back in the same fashion, and when Remus gets around to sit behind his desk, he finds a striking face to accompany it all.
“Shacklebolt. Who is this?”
“New recruit, sir.” He hands out a scroll that clearly has the King’s seal on it.
Remus takes it and gestures to the tent flap, Kingsley bowing gently and escorting himself out. With a heavy sigh, he tells the boy to sit and then does so himself. This has to be a punishment. An absolutely green castle-born idiot is sitting in front of him with orders from the bloody crown himself stating that he’s a last minute recruit.
Remus can‘t tell if he’s a criminal or a royal. An assignment from the king is usually a punishment, something to truly scare someone straight who hasn’t done a thing bad enough to lock him up in Azkaban, but it’s still a punishment. Then again, he’s clean, healthy, was given far too high of a rank, and the way he sits with that posture is typical of the rich who occupy the castle.
“Name, soldier?”
Shiny black hair and a pretty smirk make a lethal combination. Remus hates it, wants to break him.
“Monty Arcturus.”
“Well, Captain Arcturus, welcome to the King’s Army. Go to the Sergeant in the tent two to my left to get your supplies, and you’ll be bunking with the other Captains, assisting other leadership.”
“Yes, sir.” The man says, and Remus is briefly taken by him. He dismisses him, but doesn’t feel satisfied that he understands the gravity of what’s to come and so changes his mind, reaching out to hold him in place.
When he whips around, Remus is blindsided with the fact that he is really no more than a boy. He can’t be older than twenty-five, and while he signed up for the army at sixteen, Remus hardens.
“Don’t cause me any trouble, soldier, or I’ll send you back to the king with my bootmark on your arse.”
“I won’t, sir.”
And Remus knows it’s a lie, but he doesn’t know how.
Monty Arcturus is two names he is familiar with, but what he can’t understand is why he would lie. The king wouldn’t send anyone he is close to into the war, and Riddle is wand-at-the-ready only days away. So who is he? Why would he give two kings’ names as his own? Fleamont, or Monty as those close to him called him, was the current King’s father. Arcturus is King Regulus' second name.
Remus isn’t an idiot, but as time goes on, he almost forgets about all of it.
Whether he lied or not, Captain Arcturus applies himself the moment he is able. He’s quick with his wand and is always helpful, like resting might kill him. The other Captains claim he is rarely in their tent, and whenever Remus has a directive for him, he obeys with a cheeky smile and a humor that never seems to dissolve.
The news of the birth of their new princess comes to them on a bleak morning where Remus can tell their protective charms are but hours from falling. Riddle has approached with his troops, and their attacks so far have been brunt and punishing. Nothing they can’t handle, but soon they will have to face their enemy head-on.
The events also coincide with the first time Captain Arcturus is nowhere to be found.
Remus himself goes to find the man, as it’s unlikely he would simply disappear from battle like a coward… or so his fellow officers say. Remus has his doubts. After a thorough search of the camp, he discovers the captain on the lookout bridge that spans the back of their camp. He’s crumpled into a ball against a railing, clutching a letter in one hand, the other arm covering his face.
“Everything alright, soldier?”
Captain Arcturus pops up from his compact state and scrambles up.
“Lieutenant General, sir. Everything’s fine.”
Remus just laughs.
All these weeks watching him has made him fond. That black hair that he tucks his wand into, always curly and a bit oily when he hasn’t put a cleaning spell to it, sometimes making the moonlight catch in a gray shimmer, much like his eyes. A steely grey which resembles goblin blades.
He’s fucking besotted with the kid, who it turns out, is only twenty-two. Remus feels like a letch, like he is spying on something that isn’t his own, and as a lieutenant general, it’s even worse. Their ranks are so far apart, it would be horrid to even think of the possibilities.
Still, he can’t help the way he wants to comfort him, even if he knows he shouldn’t.
“What’s in the letter?”
Upon closer inspection, as Captain Arcturus raises the parchment, he realizes its the crown’s letterhead again and narrows his eyes.
“News from home, sir.” Then he tucks away the parchment into a pocket and squares himself off, like he’s mentally putting the pieces back together of whatever that letter ruined.
Still… Remus is his superior, and he could make him tell his secrets if he wanted to, but that would be bad form. Frank and the king don’t trust him because he makes people obey his orders. Instead, he tries his hand at just asking.
“What news, Monty?”
Instead of answering, Captain Arcturus leans over the edge of the bridge and looks out at the battlefield before them, the cusp of war in the smell of the air.
“Do you not like me, sir?”
Remus is taken aback by the question.
“It’s just that… you keep a keen eye on me, and I know I came from thin air into a position of decent rank, but I’ve worked hard to prove I don’t need to be coddled-”
“Captain,” Remus interrupts, joining him side-by-side, “You’ve done marvellous work here on the front. And… well, I’ve been watching you because I find you quite fascinating. I know there’s some things you haven’t been telling me, too, and I’ve let my curiosity run wild.”
They stand there in silence after that, and Remus revels in it. He’s heard, seen, and felt so much the past few days that he wants to simply collapse.
“Are we going to win this?” Captain Arcturus asks instead of responding to anything they’d been talking about before.
It’s a testament to his green skin that he doesn’t know what an outnumbered and poorly put-together army looks like. Riddle’s forces are insane, sure, but no match for the Potter kingdom.
“Yes. I believe we will.”
This doesn’t reassure him, however, and Remus wants to reach out and touch. To hold this usually unflappable man in his arms and take them both back to his tent to assure he forgets about Riddle and this bloody war. Instead, he casts a cheering charm and wins a little grin of gratitude.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Remus… for now, please.”
“Okay.”
Taking a deep breath, Remus uses his courage for something he wants. Just once. Maybe it will dig the truth up, or maybe he’ll drive away the captain forever. Either way, it will at least clear his mind.
“Why did you cry when the new princess was announced?”
Remus worries he’s offended him so brilliantly that he’ll surrender to the enemy with the way he’s standing there, frozen and quiet. He doesn’t even breathe.
Eventually, his companion whispers something Remus must ask him to repeat, and then he nearly regrets it.
“She’s my niece. Aquila Jane. That’s what was in the letter. I’m her godfather, apparently.”
A million things fill his brain, like someone has restored half his memories, and Remus realizes this whole time that he should’ve been calling him sir. This is the adopted Prince. He’s been a recluse for almost two years now, ever since his fiancée fled the country with her lover, and a secondary heartbreak hits Remus.
“I’m so sorry you missed it, your highness.”
A long-suffering sigh leaves the prince, and then he looks at him with dull eyes.
“I couldn’t be useless anymore in that bloody castle, holed up like a rodent. I wanted to help, so I came here to be helpful. Yet, no matter what I have done, Remus, you have watched me on and on. I don’t really believe you like me, if you don’t mind my saying, and I just… why? I could fall to my knees, and it seems I’m still not enough. James and Regulus are different, sure, but everybody else wants to squash me like a bloody bug. Is it because I’m not really their prince? That I failed to marry? Because I have the favor of the Monty and Effie?”
Remus falters. He’s been in some pretty deep pits himself, but the prince is clearly deeper than anyone else thought. Maybe even the king, who adores his adopted brother as if they were truly blood.
“Your highness, I have to admit to something, if you don‘t mind. It’s rather embarrassing, but it should make you feel better.”
The prince waves a hand, and Remus clears his throat, taking a glance over the battlefield to assure all is still quiet.
“I’ve taken a fancy to you ever since you arrived to my command. Merlin knows I shouldn’t, what with my rank and your age, and now not to mention your place within the castle… your highness, everyone here adores you, though no one more than I. Frankly, I’m-“
”Do you mean that?” The prince cuts across whatever horribly embarrassing thing Remus was about to admit.
“Of course I do. The men in command want to promote you, and the young men in the ranks all look up to you with stars in their eyes.”
”No,” he adds, looking frustrated and desperate. “You. Remus,” and his spine turns to fire at the way the prince says his name, “I need you to promise you aren’t lying.”
“I am not, your highness, you have my word.”
Then, he rushes forward and places Remus’ face between his hands, the softness of a life in the castle meaning he’s a bit prickly with scrapes and wand-rash, but it’s bliss nonetheless.
“Call me Sirius,” he adds, and finally they kiss.
Finally for Remus anyways. He doesn’t know what kind of catharsis this is for the prince… for Sirius, but it feels like heaven, as if he’s been imperioed.
Remus does push away after only a few moments glancing over the fields. His domain.
“We’re going to win, Sirius. The reports from General Longbottom are good, and our numbers are strong. Riddle is angry, our spies have said he feels weak, victory is imminent. Do you think King James would really let the world to him when he has so much to fight for? Your brother, your nephew, niece, and… and you?”
”I believe you,” the prince whispers listlessly, his eyes scattered but heavy with desire Remus has to fight. “Merlin save me.”
“If Merlin doesn’t, I will,” Remus says, and Sirius kisses him again, punctuation the promise.
“Why do you keep pulling away?” The prince whines like a child when Remus steps back, and he tries not to laugh, but he can’t help it.
“Everyone is looking for you, Sirius. We can’t be seen like this.”
And it’s like Remus never even cast the cheering charm in the first place, because Sirius’ entire face falls, and then he slides away. Where he goes, Remus doesn’t know but hopefully and presumably back to his post. Remus knows it was the right thing to say, to do, but his heart breaks, too, as he watches Sirius fade into the crowd, becoming Captain Arcturus once more.
He wonders if Frank knows, if even anybody besides the Kings know.
Slamming his fist against the bannister, Remus goes back to his own post himself and tries his best to get his head back into the war.
Days later, and they’re in the epicenter of it. Riddle’s forces are weak and only his most insane follows are still clinging to his command, the man himself now flanked by Longbottom’s half of the army to the point where a normal leader would surrender.
Riddle is no normal leader, however. The remains of his army is angry, and he lets them be. They’re throwing unforgivables as opposed to curses, and Remus has to admit he’s got his eyes on more than the opposition. As they close in to full termination of Riddle’s forces, nobody having slept in nearly three days, Remus finally spots Sirius again.
It’s been since their aborted moment on the lookout bridge that he’s laid eyes on him. Remus nearly allows a hex to slice his face but catches it at the last minute and dispatches the dark solider who flung it his way, then heads towards Sirius. He can’t bloody well help himself.
Sirius is in an intense duel with the Countess Bellatrix Lestrange… his cousin, and Voldemort’s right hand. All of the Potter spies had been pulled from battle hours ago with well-faked deaths, like the Malfoys, Snape, and Pettigrew, but Lestrange was one of the key players the Kings had told them to eliminate on sight.
Sirius, however, seems to be playing with her.
He has two or three opportunities Remus sees in the minute he watches him alone, not to mention however long this has been going on, and Remus is worried. Delusion can set in after not sleeping for so long, and he knows as well as anyone from the Black Lands that Bellatrix sold out her entire country to Riddle’s takeover. She’s the reason for this war, the catalyst, and Sirius is playing with her like a mouse.
He has to make a split second decision. Things will go the way of the Potter Kingdom by nightfall whether the Dark Army likes it or not, and with a few calculated glances, Remus can see Longbottom is about to duel Riddle. So, as two second-in-commands, it falls to him to handle Bellatrix. Not Sirius. Whether that’s what his heart wants or not.
Remus heads towards Sirius and his opponent, but before he can lift his wand, Bellatrix manages to sneak something on the side of a shoddy shield charm, and Sirius buckles.
Her death is quick and inconsequential to what she deserves, but maybe the bitch shouldn’t have reveled in her hit against her cousin and she wouldn’t be dead. She deserved to rot in Azkaban, but Remus doesn’t care.
He doesn’t.
He sweeps Sirius up into his arms, unsure what curse he’s taken, but he’s bleeding and unconscious. Remus doesn’t even think before apparating directly to the castle gates. He’s going to get reprimanded for deserting, probably discharged from the service and dishonorably at that, but he doesn’t care. Sirius is all that matters, a love Remus has built from afar and can never act on again, and when the castle guards see what’s happening and to who, they’re there in an instant, shuffling Sirius away from him and summoning royal healers. One of them thanks him, and then he returns to the battlefield.
What else should he have done? The king would have bitten his head off for deserting if he lingered, and he had no right or claim to Sirius’ bedside. They hadn’t talked, for all that happened it seems Remus is just an ego-booster for Sirius, to heal what the McKinnon heir had done to him.
“Sir!” Someone calls when he arrives, and considering how fast everything happened he assumes no one might have even noticed his absence.
Remus looks out to the field where most of the Dark Army has fallen, and there in the distance is General Longbottom practically thrashing Riddle. He’s close to subduing, but like watching a fight from moments before, Remus sees him begin to pull dirty tricks, and Frank ends it.
The war is over. Sirius is hurt. Only one of those things should really matter to him, but he can’t find it in himself to properly sort them.
It takes only two days before Remus is summoned to the castle via the king’s personal owl. It is not King James’ owl, however, but King Regulus’ instead, which is somehow more terrifying. At least he hasn’t had to deal with any desertion allegations, and without King James’ summons, he doubts he will.
Instead, he arrives in his finest medals and stars, army robes wrinkle-free, every hair on his head spelled into place.
He’s led into the castle by servants, then greeted by the King’s maid.
”Lady Evans,” he greets politely, then bows to kiss her hand.
She curtseys back and says gently, “Lieutenant General. Follow me.”
She leads him deep into the castle and then deposits him in King Regulus’ chambers where there’s plentiful noise and then sudden silence.
King Regulus is small… well, not really. Remus hasn’t seen much of him in his long career, and the poor man had just birthed a child, so his perception may be skewed. He’s got the baby in his arms, his face soft, while a nurse’s maid reads in the corner, clearly enjoying the fact the king is so hands on with his infant.
“Ah. Lieutenant General Remus Lupin. Come in, sit.”
“Yes, your majesty.”
King Regulus adjusts the infant in his arms and his soft smile goes away.
“You’re going to be family soon, I suggest you get comfortable calling me Regulus.”
Remus feels his heart stop-
“My brother is alive thanks to you, and my husband and I have decided that your reward shall be him. We can hash out whatever you’d like, and I can get the general and the King in here to confirm, but this will change your status quite a lot. You will live at the castle with him, and your heirs will be royalty… as eventually, you and he will be ruling over the Black Lands now that Riddle is gone. Sirius accepted rule over our old land just this morning.”
Remus can’t believe what he’s hearing. Surely the king isn’t… giving him his brother? Doesn’t the prince have some say in this? And why would they think he wants to rule an entire land of his own anyways?
“Apologies, your majesty, but… what?”
Regulus assesses him. There is no emotion on his face, until there is, and it’s amusement at best.
“You’re going to marry my brother. By technicality, you will be King Consort due to your lack of society rank, but you will essentially fill James’ roll here for the Black Lands, and Sirius will fill mine there. Now that the war is won, we cannot let our homelands go back to the hands of anyone who would see it used for terror.”
“I do not believe he wants me.”
Regulus snorts.
“He does.”
“I still can’t accept. This is too much, I’m not worthy.”
With a flat mouth, Regulus calls for his maid and politely asks her to take his infant. She easily lifts the babe from his arms and carries her away, humming softly and leaving the two of them alone which only puts Remus nerves more to the forefront.
“James and I must go to the Black Lands to establish Potter rule. However, this will take roughly six months, so in the meantime, Sirius will remain here with intermittent visits to the Black Lands. At the end of those six months, you will marry my brother. That, or you leave now and never see him again.”
Remus feels his chest seize. He loves Sirius and knows that the prince hardly loves him back… but with six months there could be a chance.
“And we must go to lead there?”
“What’s holding you here, Lieutenant General? Clearly something. Most men and women would leap at the chance.”
“I want your brother to want it too. Me… and this leadership.”
Regulus finally smiles. It’s the same one he gave his child as she was cooing in his arms, and Remus feels even more uneasy. Had he said the right thing?
“If you think Sirius doesn’t adore you right back, then you’re a fool. Every letter I got from him was about you. How he wants you to like him, and when you finally admitted that you did… he has many plans for you Remus Lupin. Most that I ignored for my sanity, but if there is mutual desire, then don’t sit on it. What do you say, six months? Then you marry? Of course, there is a chance you hate him after that time period, in which case, you still will have to marry. A King General will be lucrative to the Black Lands, and us Potters will not let that opportunity pass.”
Feeling shy now, Remus mumbles, “I doubt that will happen, your majesty.”
“Regulus,” the king corrects, but Remus just laughs.
“That will take some time.”
Regulus calls for Lily after they chat some more, and she leads him to Sirius’ chambers, inquiring politely about him as they walk.
And then he finally gets to see Sirius again. He opens the doors to his chambers dressed impeccably, looking as though he wasn’t halfway to bloodless two days ago. Remus is eternally thankful for magic.
“Remus,” Sirius sighs, and then he reaches out, yanks him into the rooms, door slammed behind him with him on it.
Lady Evans laughs brightly from the corridor.
“You’re here,” Sirius breathes, and Remus just nods, not sure if he’s meant to touch or not, hands fisted at his sides as Sirius smells him and places kisses on his face.
“Your highness-“
“Don’t, Remus, please. You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t said yes to my brother's offer. If you’re going to be my King, act like it.”
Remus has whiplash. Or a horrible infestation of wrackspurts. Maybe he got bit by a billywig and would be levitating any moment now.
With a speed Sirius clearly didn’t see coming, he turns them around and applies his body to Sirius’, touching him from toe to chest. It’s intoxicating being so close to the man he’s stared at and wanted for weeks.
“Do you want me, Sirius? Do you want Lieutenant General Lupin to own you, and to own him back, Captain Monty Arcturus?”
“Yes,” Sirius breathes, sighs, moans, and Remus is done for.
Another kiss, and he knows he doesn’t need those six months. Possibly never did. He and this man are going to rule the Black Lands and make them something Potter Kingdom will be proud of.
“My King,” Sirius adds, and they spend the rest of the day locked up in his quarters. Duties, knocks on the door, and meals be dammed.
The Black Lands prosper. Sirius and Remus fall into their roles with a dedication Regulus wasn’t sure they had, though James never doubted. Luckily they filled out a thorough council, some people from the Black Lands wanting to take pride in their new country, others bribed away from Potter rule. The Prewett twins were a loss James never recovered from, but they had a mind for trade neither Sirius nor Remus had, and so ended up being vital to their rule. James managed without.
Lily ended up marrying a Potter spy, Snape, and they went to Remus and Sirius’ kingdom for Severus to become their chief potioneer, traveling often to see Harry when he wasn’t in the Black Lands.
Remus promoted Colonel Shacklebolt to his chief general, and the change left him drowning in men and women who wished to court him.
Ted Tonks was a good political hire in Regulus’ opinion for when Sirius got too emotional or Remus too militant, though Regulus enjoyed the laugh he got whenever Sirius would complain over tea how Ted’s daughter liked throw glances Remus’ way.
The Malfoys, in an opposite vein, moved to Potter kingdom, away from their sore reputation in the Black Lands. Their son was fast friends with Harry and some of the Weasley children, even if they ended up in spots of trouble every so often, but Regulus was proud to see his cousin Narcissa, flourish in a brighter environment.
And still, five years into their reign Sirius and Remus did not have a child. Luckily, with Harry in line for their throne as well, their council happily kept their mouths shut.
Regulus still worries, however. He doesn’t want anyone else to think them weak or, Merlin forbid, for an old Tom Riddle sympathiser to attempt to do something about either.
He, on the other hand, has been blessed with three more children. Leo and Lynx followed Aquila with a speed Regulus wasn’t quite ready for. Being fathers to three as kings made James and Regulus a little mad, but they’d gotten through the worst of it. Adding a fourth, Penelope, ended up being much easier, but he was slightly worried about going from the four he has now to a fifth.
Regulus keeps the secret until he’s almost showing, that’s how worried he is, until James can see the little bump where their child rests and he becomes nigh on obsessed with his body. Of course, everyone is very congratulatory, and while he determines this child will be his last, certainly having fulfilled his duty, they still must tell Remus and Sirius.
When they arrive with little notice besides the sounds of their apparition outside the gates, they’re surprised to find that the entire castle has been told not to disturb the kings. Fortunately that rule doesn’t apply to your brothers who are also kings and have good news.
So they find themselves knocking on Sirius and Remus’ chamber doors. Good thing they’re unconventional idiots who share the same chambers.
When Remus opens up the door, he looks shattered.
“What’s going on?” James asks first, always quickest to the jump.
“Sirius has been sick the past few days. We’re not sure what it could be, and he’s miserable.”
Regulus, who knows this drill if not a tad too intimately, bursts pass his brother in law and approaches the sad looking whelp that is his dramatic brother.
“Are you nauseous?”
Sirius looks up at him with tired eyes but doesn’t question why he’s there or what for.
“Yes.”
“Fever? Dizzy? Turned off your favorite foods?”
Sirius nods, and then James and Remus slip into the room just as Regulus casts the all familiar spell and sees white. Then he casts it again because he knows, he just knows his brother is going to be doubtful.
Nearly six whole years they’d waited for this moment. All of them. But the room is silent, and Regulus understands. Probably better than most. Still, he doesn’t say a word, respects the blatant adoration Remus is sparkling with as he approaches Sirius and they embrace on the bed, submitting to what is probably an overwhelming amount of tears.
With a few quick steps, Regulus pulls James out as well.
“We can tell them later,” is all he says when he splutters.
They head to their guest quarters and wait to be summoned or visited, which takes far less time than they plan for. The knock on their door catches them in a compromised position, to say the least, but with a wave of a wand, they’re presentable and James pinches his bum when the kings of the Black Lands finally come in.
“You look recovered,” Regulus snarks at his own brother. King or not, he doesn’t really care.
Sirius does look leagues better than before. He’s smiling, less pale, and holding Remus’ hand.
“We retrieved Severus to give me a pregnancy safe potion for the symptoms, and here I am.”
Remus is looking at Sirius like he hung the moon, and Regulus huffs a laugh.
“Congratulations, you two,” James says, slow and sure, though from the fidgeting he’s doing with Regulus’ robes, he can tell the man is more than excited for his friends in the neighboring kingdom.
“Thanks, James.”
“Now… you two must have come here for a reason, no?” Remus asks, astutely picking up on the fact that an illness wouldn’t draw them near unless it was dire.
Not wanting to steal their thunder, Regulus is reticent to tell Sirius and Remus about their new baby, but James beats him to the punch and blurts it out anyways.
“We’re expecting, too.”
The other kings are just as shocked, if not entirely flabbergasted, and Sirius finally breaks his King’s facade and rushes Regulus with an embrace. All formality is broken, and the four of them celebrate like commoners in the streets.
“We should throw a party. How long are you two staying for?”
“We’ve left Minnie in charge for the next three days.”
“Perfect,” Remus says, calling in his valet to begin arranging things.
The celebration is jubilant, and Regulus attends the Black Lands’ healers with Sirius, discovering they’re both almost the exact same amount along, fifteen weeks. When they leave, it’s reluctant, but in better spirits than they came, knowing they can share this joy.
The cousins sharing a birthday is never a problem. Even though it’s clear that one is an heir to an entire kingdom and the other is a forever princess, the girls love each other dearly. Francis, Princess of the Black Lands, grows quick and sturdy, though her cousin Aquila takes over the Potter Kingdom before she can even apparate.
It leaves Regulus and James listless, which becomes a pain in Remus’ arse before he can blink. They’re constantly in court with their younger ones, distracting Francis from her schooling, though he can hardly be upset with his daughter having such close friends in her cousins.
Especially little Effie, named after the grandmother she never got to meet.
Some days, Remus finds palace life harder than any of the time he spent on the battlefield. Others, it’s clear this position of privilege is exactly that.
Like now, when he lurks around a corner waiting for his daughter and niece to turn.
He snatches up Francis as she giggles, Effie saying something about Uncle Rem, let her go!
“You’re supposed to be in classes with General Shacklebolt, darling.”
“I know, papa, but Euphemia is here!”
“She’s always here,” he scolds playfully, Effie grinning. “But you two have very different duties to two different crowns. Yours being learning everything you can before you turn eighteen.”
Francis frowns as she’s let go, but then sighs and loosens up.
“I know, papa, but I also want to have fun... Before I can’t because I’m queen.”
“Does it look like your dad and I don’t have fun?”
Francis frowns and shakes her head.
“Exactly, darling. That’s what your council is for. And you’d know that, if you listened at all to Lord Tonks!”
“Okay,” Francis whinges, then turns to Effie and give her a quick hug. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll see you for supper.”
The girls kiss one-another’s cheeks, and then Francis is gone, Effie lingering in Remus’ presence like she has something to say.
“Everything alright, Effie? I’m sorry I broke up your time with Fran, but-”
“No, Uncle Rem. That’s not it.”
“What is?” He asks carefully.
Teenagers, he’s learnt, have very little tolerance for being treated like children, but also aren’t always equipped to act like adults, so he treads on a thin line at the moment, hoping his niece trusts him enough to open up to him.
“Well… I mean… Fran has a kingdom, right? As does Aquila. Dad and Papa are retired now, but are still acting advisors, Leo and Lynx are training in the military, and even Pen is well on her way to being a foreign representative, but I-”
“You feel like you don’t have a purpose,” he fills in easily, taking the girl into his arms as she begin to look watery-eyed.
“Yeah. I’m just a spare.”
“No, no, no, never. If your fathers heard you say that, they’d be devastated. They haven’t made you feel that way, have they? My military days aren’t that far behind me.”
Effie sniffles and backs up a little, glancing up at him from his chest.
“No, they’ve never made me feel that way. I’m the baby. But… Dumbledore has-”
“Dumebledore is an old toss-pot with too many opinions for his own good.”
A watery chuckle comes from the girl, and Remus smiles.
“You’ll never be a spare. There’s plenty of worthy callings of a princess. You could marry someone to forge a bond, like Harry and Draco’s upcoming nuptials. You could also fight, like your brothers, or you could take on politics and help advise your sisters nationally or internationally. Or, you can be a princess and do nothing… perhaps a scholar?”
“I’m not all that fond of learning,” she whispers, like it’s some great secret.
“I know, bug…. Does your sister have a national public liaison yet?”
“Yes,” Effie says with a wave of emotion, stepping back and crossing her arms, clearly upset over the choice. “She chose Romilda Vane. Who in Merlin’s name likes Romilda Vane?”
Remus, having met the girl, has to agree.
“You know, Francis doesn’t have one yet.”
Effie’s eyes shoot up. She is suddenly interested about spending time here, in this kingdom, with Fran. Remus is afraid Regulus is going to kill him for taking his daughter, but what else was he supposed to do? Recommend her to something that would make her miserable, but keep her at home?
“What would I need to learn?”
“I would get familiar with all of the Black Lands’ people and villages. I know you’ve never minded greeting the public.”
“I like being out there… it’s simpler.”
Remus grins.
“Keep up your studies. Of the whole planet, while you’re at it. Might help to study under Pen, as well, just so you know how the inside correlates with the outside.”
Effie grimaces and holds up a hand, her normal sass returning.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Uncle Rem.”
Definitely Regulus’s daughter, he concedes and she bows before running off.
The letters he gets about the Potter Princess suddenly wanting to travel are quite funny, but they’re happy she’s found a niche nonetheless and won’t rest on her laurels.
Fran takes on Effie immediately to her court, almost skipping her coronation to do so. The cousins remain tight-knit, much to the chagrin of one pair of fathers who lost their baby to another kingdom. Neither girl marries for a long time, relishing in their rule over the Black Lands they call home.
Sirius and Remus take to their daughter’s council, while James and Regulus choose to travel. They are, of course, always available by owl for their children, but when Effie flies the coop, they see no reason to stay.
Leo and Lynx remain military men, making careers and each finding a life partner who suits them.
And then there’s Penelope.
While her international traveling comes to great use to Aquila, she finds as the fourth child of a once-royal pair, her uses end at her abilities. Even if something terrible were to happen to Aquila and her king Avery; Leo, being born first, would ascend the throne next with his husband Marcus, then Lynx and Genevieve and their children, before it ever got to Pen.
An impossibility, even if the entire castle was razed. Someone is always traveling, always out, and Penelope feels the impossibility of her future like a particularly wretched hex.
Until she meets her.
Pen is on a trip to the Lovegood Islands, having an incredible time, even while working with the occupying royalty and their council. They’ve brokered a good deal of fruit trades, as well as some other oddities the Lovegoods desire to be rid of for one of the Potter’s surpluses.
She’s being shown their banana trees when a woman whose hair is braided in a bunch of ropes down her head and back, a mix of freckles on her face and mischief in her eyes, comes upon them. She’s far too well-dressed to be a worker of the fields and must be of the family that owns them instead.
“Ah, Lady Meadowes, a pleasure. We’ve brought the Princess Penelope of Potter Kingdom to look through your banana crop,” says one of the princes.
Far too focused on Lady Meadowes, Penelope couldn’t tell which twin spoke from a hole in the earth.
“And is it to the princess’s liking?”
Her voice… Pen sucks in a breath and tries her best to chanel her father.
“Well, yes, but if this is your crop, my Lady, I would be most thrilled if you would show it to me?”
Lady Meadowes bites her lip and then glances at the two princes who escorted her this far.
“Prince Lorcan, Prince Lysander… do you mind?”
“Not at all, M’Lady,” they say in unison, and before Pen can even turn around to see the smug looks on their faces, they’ve apparated away.
Lady Meadowes grins, her perfect lips a sight that Penelope can’t tear her eyes from.
“Princess Penelope, how lovely to make your acquaintance, your highness.”
She gives a low curtsey, and Pen blushes at the peak of chest she catches from her advantageous angle.
“Most people call me Pen, if you’d like to do the same. And your name, my lady?”
“Lady Rene Meadowes, but you can call me Rene. In fact, I’d prefer it, Pen.”
Pen nearly loses her feet from beneath her, knees already a bit weak.
“Would you do me the honor of showing me the rest of your land?”
“My pleasure,” Rene hums and holds out her arm for Pen to take.
The fact they’re found hours later by the elder Ladies Meadowes, stripped halfway to their stockings, luckily won’t spread further than the mothers, but it does bring up a whole new host of problems.
Apparently, Lady Marlene Meadowes was once Pen’s Uncle Sirius’ intended. It definitely puts the situation in a new light for her. She’s not sure how she feels about starting a relationship with someone so far away and who is related to the woman who broke Uncle Sirius’ heart, let alone what that might mean for who Rene is as a person.
The problem is just how much she likes Rene. They’d spent hours walking and talking before ending up rolling in the barn, wands murmuring sensational spells, bar the ones that would’ve given them privacy. Rene’s mothers had looked for her for supper, and the rest is now on Pen’s conscious as she lays in her bed, late at night in the Lovegood castle guest-bedroom.
It’s not often Potter kingdom negotiates with Lovegood kingdom because their people are so whole-heartedly kind. They have an extremely low crime rate Aquila is jealous of, and Pen was shocked she even had to go. However, it had been ten years since a Potter liaison had been to visit, and sometimes owls just can’t cut it.
And now she’s met Rene.
Would Uncle Sirius blame her? Would it haunt him? He’s so painfully in love with Uncle Rem, she doubts it severely, but the question lingers.
As does her presence in Lovegood.
She sends a letter to Aquila and to Uncle Sirius, one letting the queen know of her extended stay, and another to inquire with her uncle about… well, everything.
She gets one back from all four elder patriarchs.
Her fathers want to meet the woman who has stolen her heart, though they encourage her to bring Rene to Potter kingdom for this. Uncle Remus gives her advice on love and the heart, what questions to ask a person you want to spend the rest of your life with, etc. Her Uncle Siri’s thoughts are at the end, and really, the only ones that could make or break this tiny seedling of love.
My Dearest Penelope,
Now that you’ve read through all of their sensible dribble, I have one thing to say: go for it. Especially if you think it is love. Fran and Remus are the loves of my life, and I see now, decades later, that Marlene and I never would’ve been as amazing of a fit as my King General and I.
If you believe she is who you are meant for, then I am not a consideration. Nor are your fathers, your siblings, or friends.
Just you and her.
My sincerest blessings,
Uncle Siri
Penelope does know, funnily enough. The letters took two weeks to get to her, and while she spent a lot of that time being a good princess and fulfilling her duties beyond compare, she also spent every evening and free moment with Rene.
Rene, who she wants desperately to be her wife.
She, like a proper princess, gathers all of the permissions she needs for this to go successfully.
First, her sister’s. Aquila is amused, but also concerned what her future plan is, in which Pen says she will get back to her with Rene’s answer. Then, she goes to Rene’s mothers and begs there, but finds she needn’t do much begging at all. Lastly, as a foreigner from another kingdom, she approaches the Lovegood monarchs.
Unlike in her kingdoms, the Lovegood people have their monarchs until they die, meaning King Xenophilius is still on the throne. He is, no one would argue, bloody insane, though their way of life on the Phoenix Islands is never disputed to be bad. Xenophilius, Pen figures, has a sixth sense most royals do not.
He looks her over with his wand, spells she’s never heard before, his daughter and son-in-law looking on.
His yes even comes with a brilliant smile and a hug she wouldn’t have expected in her entire lifetime.
Pen then goes to Rene, a month after she was supposed to leave, and asks the fated question right there in the banana grove where they met.
The last yes she receives is not as forthcoming as the others. Rene doesn’t respond to either the ring or the knelt position, and instead asks what the logistics of their marriage would be like, timid but smiling.
Pen expresses that she has duties to the Potter kingdom and understands that Rene has them in Lovegood as well. She knows that distance is a possibility, what with magic aiding them closer whenever desired, and that her traveling is sometimes tiring so long moments of separation could befall them, but this? This thing they have is something she wants more than anything in the world.
Her knee hasn’t even left the ground after her blabbering, until Rene hushes her by walking up and placing both hands on the sides of Pen’s face. She rubs her thumbs into her cheeks and then slides them lower, grasping her arms to pull her up.
“Penny… I want to go with you.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere. I want to see the world, and I want to play the pretty wife who tags along to all of your fancy meetings, glaring menacingly if bullheaded leaders don’t go your way. I have no burdens here. My mothers offered to sell the land and retire, and the King was kind enough to agree. My place is with you. Wherever. Whenever. Whatever.”
Pen kisses Rene like her life depends on it. Then, she slides the ring her father sent her, one of Grandma Euphemia’s many, held for just such purposes. It sparkles as she whispers her love, and two more kingdoms are united through the land.