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The corridor between Transfiguration and Charms was doing that Hogwarts thing where the light slanted just right through the tall windows, dust motes floating like they were gossiping. Boots echoed. Voices ricocheted. Someone laughed too loudly and someone else hexed a first year’s bag to squeak.
Regulus Black walked straight into his own personal nightmare.
He froze so hard it was like someone had Petrified him mid-step.
Barty Crouch Jr. almost walked straight into his back. “Oi—Reg?” He leaned to the side, peering past him. “What are we stopping for?”
Evan Rosier followed, already annoyed. “If this is about a teacher I swear—”
Pandora Rosier didn’t even bother asking. She just looked where Regulus was looking and sighed like the universe had disappointed her personally.
Dorcas Meadowes groaned. Long-suffering. Knowing. “Oh. For fuck’s sake.”
Down the corridor, sprawled like they owned the place, were the four Marauders.
James Potter was laughing, hair a mess like it always was, sleeves rolled up, leaning back against the wall with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly how good-looking he was. Sirius Black lounged beside him, grin sharp and dangerous, eyes already locked on Regulus like he’d scented blood. Remus Lupin stood a little apart, book tucked under his arm, soft smile in place. And Peter Pettigrew—
Peter was fiddling with the hem of his jacket, listening, eyes bright, saying something dry enough to make Sirius bark with laughter.
Regulus swallowed.
Then, inexplicably, he lifted his hands and started fixing his hair.
Barty stared. “Are you—are you preening?”
“I am not preening,” Regulus snapped automatically, tugging at his collar, smoothing his sleeves, checking that his tie sat just right. His ears were already pink.
Evan squinted at him. “You’re literally glowing red.”
Dorcas crossed her arms. “Let me guess. Potter.”
Regulus didn’t deny it.
Pandora tilted her head, watching the Gryffindors like they were an unfolding experiment. “You freeze, you panic, you run away, or you insult him until he bleeds emotionally. Those are your usual responses.”
“Yes, well,” Regulus muttered, eyes flicking back to James—who had just looked up and noticed him, grin widening immediately—“I’ve refined my approach.”
Barty blinked. “That sentence is terrifying.”
Regulus inhaled slowly, then said, very calmly, “Pettigrew looks nice today, doesn’t he?”
Silence.
Four Slytherins stared at him like he’d just announced he was joining the Hufflepuffs.
Evan’s mouth fell open. “Sorry. Say that again.”
Dorcas frowned. “Peter Pettigrew?”
“The jacket,” Regulus said, nodding subtly. “It suits him.”
Barty let out a sharp laugh. “Oh. Oh, you’re insane.”
Pandora’s eyes lit up. “Wait. No. I see it.”
Dorcas looked between them. “See what?”
Regulus finally turned, eyes sharp now, all nerves burning down into something clever and cruel and distinctly Slytherin. “Potter is an idiot.”
Barty snorted. “Correct.”
“He can’t tell I’m into him,” Regulus continued. “Entirely not because I go bright red and flee the scene every time he looks at me, or because I bully him relentlessly.”
Evan smirked. “You do call him a genetic accident at least twice a week.”
“Exactly,” Regulus said. “So. New plan.”
Dorcas sighed. “I don’t like where this is going.”
“I make him chase me.”
Pandora clasped her hands. “Classic.”
“How do I do that?” Regulus went on, warming to it now. “Easy. I use his ego against him. Potter thinks he has to be perfect. The best. The most wanted. So I give attention to the one no one ever notices.”
Barty’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re not—”
“I ignore Potter,” Regulus said sweetly, “in favour of Pettigrew.”
Evan laughed outright. “Oh that’s evil.”
“Sirius is off-limits,” Regulus continued briskly. “I physically cannot flirt with him. Remus is universally considered attractive. But Pettigrew?” He smiled, sharp and smug. “Potter has never considered him competition.”
Dorcas stared. “You’re going to weaponise jealousy.”
“Yes,” Regulus said. “He’ll get jealous. He’ll try to prove he’s better. Maybe flex a little. Maybe get all desperate for my attention. Boom. Instant obsession.”
Barty put a hand over his mouth, eyes shining. “I’m obsessed with you.”
“I’ll play hard to get,” Regulus finished. “Make it a challenge. Make him want me more.”
Pandora beamed. “Conniving little bastard.”
Evan shook his head in awe. “Definite Slytherin.”
Regulus grinned, all teeth and trouble. “Watch and learn.”
He turned.
Across the corridor, the Marauders had fully clocked him now.
Sirius straightened, grin already feral. “Well, well. Look who it is.”
James pushed off the wall immediately, eyes lighting up. “Regulus!”
Remus smiled politely. Peter blinked.
Regulus walked straight past James Potter like he wasn’t there.
The silence that followed was loud.
He stopped in front of Peter.
“Hi,” Regulus said, voice softer, eyes flicking up through his lashes. “That jacket looks really good on you.”
Peter stared at him.
James choked. “—What?”
Sirius made a strangled sound. “I’m sorry, what the fuck?”
Peter flushed, then grinned, a little crooked, a little surprised. “Uh. Thanks. Took it off Filch’s lost-and-found, actually.”
Regulus laughed—genuinely laughed—and it startled even him. “Of course you did.”
Peter preened. “Reckon it gives me character.”
“Mm,” Regulus said, leaning in just slightly. “Definitely.”
James stepped forward. “Oi—Reg, did you hear me say—”
“Don’t interrupt,” Regulus said coolly, not even looking at him.
James stopped dead.
Sirius’s jaw dropped.
Remus raised his eyebrows.
Peter, emboldened, smirked. “You heading to Potions?”
“I am,” Regulus said. “Unfortunately.”
Peter snorted. “Slugworth’s in a mood today. Nearly bit my head off.”
Regulus tilted his head. “Tragic. You surviving alright?”
“Barely,” Peter said dryly. “Might perish.”
James spluttered. “Since when are you funny?”
Peter shot him a look. “Since always. You just don’t listen.”
Regulus laughed again, shoulders shaking, eyes bright. James Potter looked like someone had just slapped him.
Sirius leaned toward Remus. “Am I hallucinating?”
Remus murmured, “No. But I wish I were.”
James tried again. “Regulus, mate—”
Regulus finally glanced at him, unimpressed. “I’m busy.”
With Peter.
James stared. Something dark and dangerous flickered behind his grin.
The corridor had gone feral. Gryffindors were whispering. Slytherins were cackling. Lily Evans had stopped dead with Mary Macdonald and Marlene McKinnon, all three of them staring like they were watching a car crash.
“Oh my god,” Mary breathed. “Potter’s face.”
Marlene whooped. “This is better than Quidditch.”
Alice Fortescue grabbed Frank Longbottom’s sleeve. “Is this allowed?”
Frank shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so.”
Fabian and Gideon Prewett were already placing bets.
Regulus straightened, stepping back. “I should go,” he told Peter. “But it was nice talking.”
Peter smiled, warm and sharp. “Yeah. It was.”
Regulus winked.
Then he turned and walked back to his friends, smugness practically radiating off him.
Behind him, James Potter stood seething, jaw clenched, watching him go like he’d just lost something he didn’t realise he owned.
Sirius laughed helplessly. “Oh, Prongs. You’re fucked.”
Regulus didn’t look back.
He didn’t need to.
The hunt had begun.
-
Regulus didn’t even make it three steps past the corner before he snapped.
The moment the Marauders were fully out of sight, he lost his mind.
He clapped a hand over his mouth, failed spectacularly, and let out a high, feral cackle that echoed down the corridor.
“Oh my god—” Regulus squealed, spinning on his heel. “Did you see his face?”
Pandora shrieked right back at him and grabbed his hands. “I SAW HIS SOUL LEAVE HIS BODY.”
They jumped together, actually jumped, shoes skidding on stone as they bounced like victorious lunatics.
“It worked,” Regulus gasped, half-laughing, half-gasping for air. “It fucking worked.”
Barty leaned against the wall, grinning so wide it hurt. “You flirted with Pettigrew. In public. I think Hogwarts just shifted on its axis.”
Evan wiped at his eyes like he was witnessing art. “James Potter looked like he was about to commit several crimes.”
Dorcas crossed her arms, trying and failing not to smile. “You were unbearable. Absolutely unbearable.”
Regulus grabbed Pandora’s shoulders. “Tell me everything. Everything. How bad was it?”
Pandora was glowing. “He froze. Like—full system reboot. And then when you laughed? Oh, darling, he hated that. He hated that you weren’t laughing at him.”
Regulus pressed his hands to his cheeks. “Oh I knew it. I knew it.”
“And when you told him not to interrupt?” Barty added, delighted. “I thought Sirius was going to combust.”
Evan snorted. “Pettigrew was smug as hell. That was the real twist.”
Regulus groaned dreamily and flopped backward against the wall. “Peter was… actually funny. Why was he funny.”
Dorcas raised an eyebrow. “Careful.”
“No,” Regulus said quickly, sitting back up, eyes bright. “No, no, it’s fine. This is fine. I can flirt. I can commit.”
Pandora clasped her hands. “What do you hope Potter does next?”
Regulus squealed again, smaller this time, vibrating with glee. “I want him to spiral. I want big gestures. I want him to try and outshine Pettigrew. I want him to be so obvious it hurts.”
Barty laughed. “You’re evil.”
“I want him pacing,” Regulus continued, words tumbling out. “I want him brooding. I want him to ache.”
Evan whistled. “He’s doomed.”
Regulus smoothed his hair, reassembled himself, smugness settling back into place like a crown. “Alright. Let’s go before someone sees me giggling like a maniac.”
They swept off down the corridor, Regulus still humming with victory.
-
Back where the damage had been done, the Gryffindors were in absolute disarray.
“WHAT,” Marlene McKinnon yelled, “WAS THAT?”
Mary Macdonald was cackling. “James. James. You look like someone just kicked your broom out from under you.”
James Potter was pacing. Full-on pacing. Hands running through his hair, jaw clenched so tight it looked painful.
“He ignored me,” James snapped. “He ignored me.”
Sirius was doubled over laughing. “Oh, Prongs. Oh no.”
Remus adjusted his grip on his book, clearly entertained. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that happen to you.”
Peter leaned back against the wall, smug as sin. “He liked my jacket.”
James whirled on him. “Why was he leaning so close to you?”
Peter shrugged. “I’m charming.”
Fabian Prewett elbowed Gideon. “Ten galleons says Potter explodes.”
Alice Fortescue stared between James and Peter. “Are you… jealous?”
James scoffed. “No.”
Frank Longbottom tilted his head. “You’re red.”
Lily Evans crossed her arms, eyes narrowed, studying him. “James.”
He stopped pacing.
“He winked at Pettigrew,” James said hoarsely. “At Pettigrew.”
Sirius wiped tears from his eyes. “Say it again. Slower.”
James groaned and dragged his hands down his face. “This isn’t funny.”
“It’s extremely funny,” Marlene said.
James resumed pacing. “He did it on purpose. He had to. He knows what he’s doing.”
Mary’s grin widened. “James. Are you into Regulus Black?”
The corridor went quiet.
James opened his mouth. Closed it. Ran a hand through his hair again.
“I wasn’t,” he said. Then frowned. “I don’t think I was.”
Sirius perked up. “Wasn’t.”
Remus hummed thoughtfully. “Interesting word choice.”
James spun on them, frustrated. “But now— Merlin, now I can’t stop thinking about it. About him. About why he’d do that.”
Lily’s eyes widened. “Oh my god.”
“He’s like—” James gestured wildly. “Like a fair maiden.”
Sirius choked. “A what?”
“A fair, naïve, rich boy,” James continued, spiralling, “locked in a tower by his parents, waiting for someone to— I don’t know— rescue him.”
Peter blinked. “You’re unwell.”
“I could do something big,” James said suddenly. “A gesture. Something heroic. Prove I’m better.”
“Better than Peter?” Fabian asked innocently.
James glared. “Yes.”
“I could bring him flowers,” James muttered. “No—too obvious. I could win the next Quidditch match for him. Or challenge Pettigrew to something. Or—”
Sirius leaned in, feral grin back in place. “Oh, this is bad.”
“I could write him a poem,” James said, horrified at himself.
Everyone screamed.
“YOU’RE DOWN BAD,” Marlene howled.
Mary grabbed Lily’s arm. “Did you hear that? A poem.”
Lily stared at James like she was seeing him for the first time. “You’re actually into him.”
James looked around at them all, chest heaving, expression caught between fury and something dangerously close to longing.
“I just—” he said, quieter now. “I don’t want him looking at someone else like that.”
Peter smirked. “Too late.”
James shot him a murderous look.
Sirius clapped a hand on James’s shoulder, eyes bright with chaos. “Welcome to the club, Prongs.”
James groaned, dragging his hands through his hair again as the Gryffindors dissolved into laughter, shouting, teasing—
And somewhere down the corridor, Regulus Black smiled to himself, entirely unseen, already winning.
-
The months that followed became a study in slow-motion insanity.
Hogwarts noticed first.
It always did.
It started small.
James Potter began trying.
Which, unfortunately for everyone involved, was catastrophic.
-
On Monday, Regulus found a broom polish kit on his desk before breakfast. Top quality. Imported. Excessive.
Regulus glanced at it, unimpressed, then turned to Evan. “Do you know whose this is?”
Evan smirked. “Potter.”
Regulus nodded once and pushed it aside to make room for his tea. Didn’t touch it again.
From across the Hall, James watched, jaw tightening.
On Tuesday, James held open doors. On Wednesday, he “coincidentally” appeared wherever Regulus was. On Thursday, he started laughing louder when Regulus entered rooms, like volume could summon attention.
It did not.
Regulus either walked past him like he was furniture or leaned closer to someone else and smiled.
Sometimes Peter. Sometimes Barty. Once—briefly—Remus, which caused a minor Gryffindor crisis.
James spiralled.
-
“Why doesn’t he care?” James demanded, pacing the common room, hair wild, tie undone. “I’m being nice.”
Sirius lounged upside down on an armchair. “You’re being unhinged.”
Remus sipped his tea. “He seems… unbothered.”
Peter, smug as ever, added, “He laughed at my joke today.”
James whipped around. “Stop being funny.”
Peter grinned. “Can’t help it.”
Lily watched from the stairs, arms crossed. “James. You’re not entitled to his attention.”
“I know that,” James snapped, then froze. “I know that.”
Silence.
“Oh,” Sirius said softly. “He’s gone.”
-
Meanwhile, in Slytherin territory—
Regulus was thriving.
“He tried to give me chocolate frogs today,” Regulus whispered, collapsing dramatically onto the sofa. “Just handed them to me.”
Pandora gasped. “And?”
“I gave them to a first year.”
Barty wheezed. “You’re evil.”
Dorcas shook her head. “You’re going to break him.”
Regulus kicked his feet, giggling. “He stared at me like I’d murdered him.”
Evan raised a brow. “He’s glaring at Pettigrew again.”
“Good,” Regulus said serenely. “He should.”
-
James escalated.
He started planning.
Big planning.
Grand gestures. Romantic nonsense. Ridiculous heroics.
He volunteered to help Regulus with homework. Rejected.
He offered to walk him to class. Ignored.
He hexed a corridor “accidentally” so he could swoop in and fix it while Regulus watched.
Regulus yawned.
James nearly screamed.
-
Weeks passed.
James became jealous in ways that made absolutely no sense.
Regulus laughing with Barty? Unacceptable.
Regulus leaning toward Evan? Criminal.
Regulus merely existing near Peter? A personal attack.
“Why is he always with someone else?” James ranted one night, pacing like a caged animal. “Why does he look at them like that?”
Sirius smirked. “Because it’s not you.”
James stopped. “I’ll make it me.”
Remus frowned. “James—”
“I’ll do something undeniable,” James said. “Something he can’t ignore.”
Peter blinked. “You said that last week.”
“And the week before,” Lily added dryly.
James ran a hand through his hair. “This time I mean it.”
-
Regulus noticed everything.
The tension. The staring. The clenched jaw. The way James hovered, restless, eyes tracking him like a predator pretending not to hunt.
And privately—
Regulus lost his mind.
“He is unraveling,” Regulus whispered one evening, shaking with laughter. “He stared at me for a full minute in the library.”
Pandora fanned herself. “You’re glowing.”
“He asked Sirius how to impress someone,” Barty added. “Sirius laughed for ten minutes.”
Evan grinned. “Potter nearly hexed him.”
Regulus pressed a hand to his chest. “I adore this.”
Dorcas sighed. “You’re cruel.”
“Yes,” Regulus agreed cheerfully.
-
James Potter stopped sleeping properly.
He was obsessed.
Every smile Regulus didn’t give him felt like a personal failure. Every bored glance felt like a challenge. Every flirtation—real or imagined—made his blood boil.
He wanted to be noticed.
Chosen.
He wanted Regulus Black to look at him the way he looked at everyone else.
The desperation crept in quietly.
Possessively.
-
“Why won’t he crack?” James muttered one night, staring at the ceiling.
Sirius lay awake too. “Because he doesn’t want to.”
James swallowed. “I’ll make him want to.”
Sirius turned his head. Studied him. “Careful, Prongs.”
James didn’t hear him.
-
By spring, Hogwarts was feral.
People whispered. Pointed. Took sides. Bets were placed. The tension was thick enough to choke on.
Regulus Black walked through the castle like a prince who knew exactly how adored he was.
James Potter followed like a man possessed.
And every day Regulus didn’t give in—
James wanted him more.
Everyone screamed.
Everyone watched.
And no one—no one—was ready for what would happen when one of them finally broke.
-
The pitch was roaring.
Green and silver banners snapped in the wind, Slytherin chants rolling like thunder from one end of the stands, red and gold answering back just as loud. The air buzzed with magic, tension, and the unmistakable crackle of something about to go terribly, spectacularly wrong.
Regulus Black mounted his broom with a calm that was entirely for show.
Inside, he was vibrating.
James Potter was already in the air.
Captain’s armband tight on his sleeve, grin sharp, eyes locked on Regulus like the rest of the world had politely ceased to exist.
“Oh come on,” James called as they circled at opposite ends. “You going to look at me today or keep pretending I’m invisible?”
Regulus didn’t even turn his head.
He adjusted his grip on the broom. Focused forward. Gave nothing away.
James scoffed loudly and immediately tried to show off—sharp dive, tight spiral, a flashy pass to one of his Chasers that earned cheers from the Gryffindor stands.
He glanced back.
Regulus hadn’t reacted.
James nearly flew into a goalpost.
“Potter!” Marlene McKinnon yelled from behind him, bat raised. “Eyes on the bloody game!”
“I am!” James snapped, then immediately veered again because Regulus had just cut cleanly across the pitch, fast and elegant and infuriatingly uninterested.
The game became a blur of chaos.
James kept calling out—teasing, coaxing, half-flirted taunts thrown into the wind.
“Careful there, Black!”
“Nice dive—was that for me?”
“Still ignoring me, love?”
Nothing.
Regulus flew like James didn’t exist.
Externally: cold, precise, locked in.
Internally: he’s unraveling, oh my god he’s unraveling—
Slytherin pulled ahead fast. Brutally. The score climbed and climbed, and every point felt like another needle under Gryffindor skin.
James grew reckless.
He flew too close. Too sharp. Flexed when he should’ve passed. Tried to dazzle when he should’ve focused.
All for Regulus.
Regulus clocked it all.
And then—
The Snitch.
A flicker of gold far below, near the lower edge of the pitch, glinting just once in the sun.
Regulus’s breath caught.
There you are.
Time slowed.
He calculated everything in a heartbeat: angles, distance, speed. Where the other Seekers were. Where James was—too far, slightly above, already veering instinctively toward him.
Perfect.
Regulus smiled.
And then he let go.
He didn’t dive.
He dropped.
A full release. No broom beneath him. Just air and gravity and a scream ripping from the stands as Regulus Black plummeted like a fallen star.
“REGULUS—!”
Brooms scattered. Players shouted. Someone lost control entirely.
James’s heart stopped.
He didn’t think.
He moved.
He tore through the air, panic burning hot in his chest, lungs screaming, eyes locked on the smaller figure falling faster and faster—
Regulus twisted midair, arm snapping out—
Gold flashed.
The Snitch hit his palm—
And then hands slammed around his waist.
James caught him hard, momentum jolting through both of them as James hauled them upright, broom bucking beneath the sudden weight.
Regulus gasped.
Shaking. Breathless. Fingers clutching James’s sleeve like it was the only thing anchoring him to the world.
He looked up.
Wide-eyed. Flushed. Mouth parted in shock.
For a second, he didn’t say a word.
Just stared.
Like James had pulled him out of death itself.
James stared back, chest heaving, adrenaline roaring—
And then it hit him.
The look.
The way Regulus clung to him.
The silence.
Oh.
Oh.
James’s confusion cracked into something sharp and electric and certain.
His mouth curved, slow and stunned and victorious.
“I’ve got you,” he said softly, fiercely.
Regulus swallowed, nodded once, cheeks burning, eyes shining.
They descended together, the roar of the crowd crashing back in as their feet hit the pitch.
The moment shattered.
Regulus stepped back instantly, flustered, head down, rushing toward his team as they swarmed him in a panic.
“Are you hurt?”
“Reg—Merlin—”
“I’m fine,” Regulus said quickly.
Then he straightened.
Opened his hand.
The Snitch glittered in the sun.
For half a second, the world went dead silent.
Then Slytherin exploded.
Green and silver erupted into screams, players piling into Regulus, laughter and shouting and victory crashing down all at once as they dragged him away, triumphant.
Regulus threw one last glance over his shoulder.
James was still standing there.
Frozen.
Breathing hard.
Eyes dark.
Then Regulus grinned.
Ferally.
And vanished into the celebrating chaos.
James stayed where he was until the rest of the Gryffindor team landed around him, stunned and talking all at once.
“What the hell was that?”
“He dropped—”
“He caught the Snitch—”
James started laughing.
Low at first.
Then louder.
Unhinged.
He turned suddenly and grabbed Marlene McKinnon by the shoulders.
“Did you see that?” he demanded, eyes wild. “Did you see him?”
Marlene stared. “You’re scaring me.”
“He fell for me,” James said, breathless, grinning like a man possessed. “That look—he fell for me.”
Sirius landed nearby, eyes narrowed. “James—”
“I won,” James said, laughing again. “I saved him. He needs me now.”
Remus exchanged a look with Lily in the stands.
Oh no.
“Oh, I’m not done,” James continued, already pacing, already plotting. “Now I go bigger. Louder. I seal it. He won’t be able to look away.”
Marlene yanked her shoulders free. “You sound insane.”
James’s grin was sharp and hungry and absolutely certain.
“I’m going to win Regulus Black,” he said.
The pitch rang with noise.
The stands screamed.
And somewhere in the Slytherin huddle, Regulus Black laughed quietly to himself, heart racing, fingers still warm from the Snitch—
Right where he wanted it.
-
It had been three days.
Three days since Regulus Black fell out of the sky into James Potter’s arms, blushed like a divine omen, clutched James like he was the last star in the sky, and won the fucking Quidditch game.
Three days since James realised Regulus Black had fallen for him, and three days since James Potter completely lost his mind.
He hadn’t slept more than three hours a night. He hadn’t stopped pacing. He’d stopped eating breakfast—breakfast—because he kept waking up with too many feral plans and nowhere to put them. He'd torn through five feet of parchment plotting various declarations of affection, only to rip them all up. Nothing was good enough. Nothing was right.
Until this morning.
This morning, James Potter woke up with a mission burning behind his eyes and lightning pumping through his blood.
He knew what he was going to do.
He was going to win Regulus Black—not with flowers, not with sonnets, not with song. With raw, blunt, feral emotion and one very public confession that would make sure every other bastard in the castle knew.
-
He stormed down the corridor like a man possessed.
Boots slamming. Robes billowing. Hair a mess. Tie askew. Grin feral.
Behind him, like ducklings dragged into war, trailed all ten of the other Gryffindors.
Sirius: cackling like a madman.
Remus: somewhere between deeply worried and taking notes.
Peter: eyes wide, popcorn ready.
Marlene: bat in hand, hyped like it was fight night.
Lily, Mary, Alice, Frank, Fabian, Gideon—chaotic, muttering, sprinting to keep up, every single one of them vibrating with adrenaline and horror and glee.
Up ahead—
Regulus Black.
Surrounded by Pandora, Barty, Evan, and Dorcas.
Hair perfect. Robe crisp. Lashes too long. Laughing at something Barty said—
Until he looked up.
His eyes locked with James.
He flushed, panicked—looked away.
James grinned.
Now.
-
The crowd parted like the Red Sea.
James didn’t slow down.
Barty started to say something—
James shoved him hard.
Barty hit the floor, slid five feet, and groaned like a footballer.
Pandora gasped. Dorcas stepped back. Evan’s eyes went wide.
Regulus turned fast—wide-eyed, caught, confused—
James stalked forward, slid an arm around him, and slammed the shorter against the wall with a thud and a gasp.
Gasps. From everywhere.
“Potter—” Regulus whispered, pinned.
James leaned in, nose brushing Regulus’s. Forehead to forehead. Breathing hard. Absolutely unhinged.
His hand slid down to Regulus’s waist.
Small. Slim. Perfect.
James shuddered.
“You,” he breathed, dark and rasping and low enough that everyone strained to hear it, “have ruined me.”
Regulus blinked up, pink-cheeked, wide-eyed. “M-Me?”
“I can’t breathe without thinking about you,” James hissed. “I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t stop. You haunt me. I see you and I go insane. I want to ruin every person who makes you laugh. I want to burn down every hallway you walk away from me in. I want you to be mine, Black.”
Regulus squeaked.
“I’m—oh. I—I—” He blinked, hands coming up to James’s chest. “You’re… serious?”
James growled. “Say yes.”
“I—I don’t—”
James lowered his voice, nose still brushing his. “Say yes, baby. Be mine.”
Regulus flushed dark. Lips parted.
The corridor was so silent you could hear Peter wheezing.
And then—
Regulus grinned.
Wide. Feral. Deranged.
“YESSSSSSSSSSSS!” he screamed, throwing his arms in the air like a wrestler winning the belt. “I WINNNNNN!”
James flinched. “Wait—?”
Regulus bounced, actually bounced, shaking James by the shoulders. “YESYESYESYESYESYES!”
“Baby—?”
Regulus broke free and ran in circles, hair flying, cackling like a fucking goblin. “I BROKE HIM! I SNAPPED HIM IN HALF! HE’S MINE!”
The Gryffindors were frozen.
The Slytherins stared.
Barty sat up. “He what—”
Regulus launched into his friends.
Shook Barty by the collar. “IT WORKED. MY PLAN WORKED.”
Pandora screamed. “NO.”
Dorcas: “I THOUGHT YOU MADE THAT UP—”
Evan: “I OWE YOU FIFTY GALLEONS.”
James was still standing there, blinking, panting, short-circuiting.
“What plan?” Sirius called. “WHAT PLAN?”
Regulus beamed. “I FLIRTED WITH PETER TO MAKE HIM JEALOUS!”
James made a choked sound.
Remus dropped his book.
Peter looked offended. “Wait. I was bait?”
Regulus grabbed Evan and shook him. “I’ve liked him since third year, can you BELIEVE.”
James's mouth opened. “What—what?”
“I’ve been playing hard to get,” Regulus said proudly, turning back around. “He never stood a chance.”
James growled.
Snapped.
Stormed forward.
He grabbed Regulus by the waist and yanked him backwards, flush against his front. Arms caged around him. Nose in his hair.
Mine.
Regulus gasped, giggled, squirmed—and arched into it.
James groaned. “Fuck—don’t do that.”
Regulus twisted, spun, pressed chest to chest and clung to him like a koala.
“Hi,” he said, flushed and grinning.
James blinked. “You’re insane.”
Regulus leaned up, kissed his cheek, kissed his jaw, kissed his temple.
James buckled.
“Baby,” he mumbled, dazed and gooey, “you’re so cute.”
Regulus kept kissing him.
The Gryffindors screamed.
Mary covered her mouth. “HE’S—CLINGING.”
“HE’S—HE’S KISSING POTTER—”
“POTTER’S IN LOVE—”
James held Reg tight, practically purring.
Pandora rolled her eyes. “Okay. Do we tell them now?”
Sirius: “Tell us what?”
Barty stood, brushing off his sleeves. “That this has been in the works for months.”
Dorcas: “That Regulus planned this start to finish.”
Evan: “That he’s been in love with Potter for actual years.”
Peter made a strangled noise.
Lily: “YOU KNEW??”
Frank: “I—WHAT IS GOING ON—”
James blinked, slowly processing, then looked down at the tiny clingy nightmare hanging off his front.
“You played me.”
Regulus giggled. “Yes.”
“You planned this.”
“I did.”
“You’ve liked me this whole time.”
“I have.”
James grinned.
Dark. Possessive. Insane.
He dropped lower, grabbed Regulus’s thighs, and lifted the shorter clean off the ground.
Regulus squealed.
Wrapped around him like he was born there.
James held him up, nose brushing his, arms tight around his waist, voice low and desperate. “I’m never letting you go.”
Regulus kissed him again.
“I know.”
The corridor exploded.
Sirius actually fell over. Remus gaped. Lily screamed. Peter was vibrating. Marlene muttered, “I need a drink.”
The corridor had fully collapsed into chaos.
Regulus Black, still clinging to James Potter like he was scaling a very sexy tree, refused to let go. Legs locked around James’s waist, arms looped over his shoulders, cheek pressed to the taller boy’s jaw, he was giggling breathlessly between every kiss he planted on James’s flushed face—cheek, jaw, temple, nose, forehead, back to his mouth, rinse and repeat. He looked like he’d won the lottery and was trying to devour the prize.
James was gone. Absolutely gone.
Grinning like the sun, groaning every time Regulus moved—full body groans, deep and pleased, and way too hot for a school hallway. He kept whispering back between kisses: “God, baby,” and “Look at you,” and “Fuck, keep going, I love that.”
He tilted his head and nosed into Regulus’s throat, kissed just under his ear, made Regulus squeak.
“Y’re so fuckin’ pretty,” James muttered, dazed, high on affection. “So soft, my baby, my fuckin’ baby, yeah?”
Regulus giggled, delighted, and nodded, still kicking his feet lazily behind James’s back like a spoiled cat in a sunbeam.
James’s grip on his thighs tightened, rough palms sliding higher under the hem of Regulus’s robes as he held him up, copping a shameless feel.
Regulus squeaked again, flushed pink, and giggled louder, nuzzling into James’s hair with a high-pitched whine. “James!”
James fucking growled—grinned filthy, low and perverted and wild.
“Oh you like that,” he muttered, hips bucking up just slightly under the weight of Reg, voice low and smug and dark as sin. “Can’t believe I get to have you now. I get to touch you, kiss you, fuckin’ ruin you—” he shuddered, “—fuck, yes, cling to me, baby, hold on—yeah, just like that—”
Regulus squealed. “James!”
The crowd collectively lost their shit.
Lily actually screamed, hands over her face. “WE’RE STILL IN THE HALLWAY!”
Marlene choked. “YOU FILTHY BASTARDS—”
Remus covered his eyes, muttering, “This is worse than the time James made out with that statue of Salazar Slytherin.”
Peter wheezed. “HE WAS PLOTTING THE WHOLE TIME. PLOTTING.”
Fabian and Gideon were hollering, “HE PLAYED YOU!” and “YOU FELL INTO HIS TRAP, MATE!”
Alice clutched Frank’s arm. “It’s like watching a lion fuck a bunny on live television.”
And Sirius?
Sirius was vibrating. Eyes wide. Mouth open. Arms slack at his sides.
He looked at Regulus.
Looked at James.
Looked back at Regulus.
Shrieked.
“You manipulative little rat bastard!”
Regulus looked up from where he was nuzzling James’s neck and grinned, all smug and soft and glowing with evil.
“Took you long enough.”
James, still holding Reg like a prized possession, snorted. “You should thank him, Pads. This is the happiest I’ve ever been.”
“He used Peter!”
Peter threw up a peace sign. “Honestly, I feel empowered.”
“He’s been gaslighting you all year!”
“And I loved it,” James said, eyes dark and thrilled. “It worked. Look at him. Look at my baby—look how clingy he is. He’s mine now. All mine.”
Regulus giggled again and kissed his cheek, squirming as James’s fingers slipped under the back of his shirt and splayed over bare skin.
The scream Sirius let out could probably be heard in the dungeons.
“I—” he gasped. “I share blood with this little demon.”
Dorcas snorted. “Welcome to our world.”
Pandora fanned herself. “I always knew he’d pull this off. But I thought he’d crack first.”
“I did!” Regulus chirped. “In James’s arms, midair, like a princess!”
“I caught you like a princess,” James mumbled, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “but you’re acting like a whore.”
“James!” Regulus shrieked, laughing so hard he nearly fell.
James caught him, firm and fast and hot, muttering, “Nah. Nah, baby. Not droppin’ you. Ever. You’re stuck with me now.”
Regulus nuzzled in deeper and sighed dramatically. “I won. I win forever.”
“You do,” James cooed. “And now I’m gonna make you pay for it. Starting with my bed. Right now.”
Screams.
Lily nearly fainted.
Marlene was sobbing with laughter.
Peter was on the floor.
Sirius yelled, “THIS IS A SCHOOL!”
James just kept walking, carrying Regulus away, grinning like a man freshly released from Azkaban, whispering filth into Regulus’s ear while the shorter boy flushed pink and kept kissing him back like he wanted to be devoured.
And Hogwarts?
Hogwarts would never recover.