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James thought it was a joke at first.
Everyone at school knew Regulus was from a wealthy background, it was impossible not to recognise the surname ‘Black’ even in a town as modest as Ravenclaw, but Regulus’ wealth had never crossed James’ mind. His own family were ‘filthy rich’ as Marlene said, so money often didn’t occur to him. He was more concerned with making sure his tie wasn’t crooked and there wasn’t toothpaste smudged around his mouth when he plucked up the courage to ask Regulus to study together as a first date.
For other people, studying as a date would seem like a poor way to spend their time, but for Regulus it was perfect. He even sent James a sweet little smile and shyly tucked his pretty curls behind his pretty ears, a pretty blush covering his pretty face.
But, something must have gone wrong.
When Regulus accepted his offer for a private study session, he offered his own residence for the meeting, citing his overprotective parents as a reason. Naturally, James agreed and copied the address into Google to plan his route. As the search results brought forth several blurry snapshots of a mansion, his curiosity bubbled.
Confused at the lack of clear images, he scrolled through them, wondering if street view would offer more clarity. Everyone’s house was able to be seen online with street view. Changing tactics, he tried to plop himself right in front of the house only for nothing to happen. Several more attempts yielded similar results, so he backtracked, moving further out to the main road which he followed dutifully only to hit a tall, iron fence, the bars twisted in the centre to form a familiar crest of three large ravens beneath a star.
Pillars made of stone framed the gate, each plinth topped with identical statues of a howling wolf. Security cameras were dotted along the fence on posts high enough he had to zoom right out to see them. No doubt every inch of the property was carefully monitored.
Later, when he showed his parents his findings, they suggested he ask Regulus if he was sure of the address.
Perhaps he mistyped.
James did as instructed only for Regulus to assert that he hadn’t made any mistakes and never did (of course).
Silently, the Potters decided they would see for themselves tomorrow. Maybe it was all an elaborate joke.
It was not a joke.
As his mother’s car crawled along the winding driveway, James found himself marvelling at the sheer enormity of the mansion creeping into view behind the thicket of trees bracketing the drive. His own parents were absurdly wealthy but their home was nowhere near this big.
Mama always said she preferred a more homely space. There were still a dozen rooms in Potter Manor but Regulus’ house was positively palatial. Counting the rows of windows there were at least seven floors.
“This is…” Papa looked as stunned as James felt. “Are you sure this is the correct address?”
“This is where the navigation system took me,” Mama said weakly. “My goodness, this is practically a castle!”
“Is this a listed building?”
“Must be. Stonework like this is rare.”
“Beautiful place, though.”
“Is that a fountain?” Mama blurted as they finally halted outside the front side of the mansion.
A fountain the size of an olympic swimming pool stood proudly in the centre of the circular driveway. Small, well-pruned shrubs circled the stone perimeter, framing the edges of the tiered fountain as it spewed a steady stream of crystalline water. At the very base of the spout stood a stone lion, paws raised and mane speckled with stars.
Climbing out of the car, James swallowed thickly at the sight of it. The lion was at least five times bigger than his father.
“Hello, everyone,” a bright voice chirped from their left. James startled when a familiar man approached them. “You two must be James’ parents. Lovely to meet you. I’m Sirius. This is my husband, Remus,” Sirius said as he greeted James’ parents.
“Hello, James.” Remus nodded at him kindly. ”Mr and Mrs Potter, it’s wonderful to meet you.”
“Please, call me Effie,” Mama said as she shook Remus’ hand. A metre away, Papa was squeezing Sirius and Regulus in a group hug.
James’ stomach flipped as he saw Regulus for the first time since yesterday. Sure, it had only been roughly twenty hours since they last saw each other but Regulus wasn’t in his school uniform. He was in regular clothes. Casual clothes. He rarely ever saw Regulus in normal clothing.
“Hi, James,” Regulus said once Papa freed him.
The adults drifted a little further away. Sirius was gesturing grandly to the palace behind him while James’ parents nodded enthusiastically at whatever he and Remus were saying.
“James?”
Tongue-tied, James made an awkward noise before abruptly choking on his spit. He hunched over, pounding his chest as Regulus stood bemusedly by his side.
“Would you like some water?”
Face burning, James shook his head. “No…no, thank you. I’m sorry. Hello. You look really…yeah.”
“I look…yeah,” Regulus repeated flatly.
“Just very, uh...”
Regulus glanced down at his simple shirt and trousers. “Okay. You look ‘yeah’ too, I suppose.”
Embarrassed, James hunched his shoulders. “Yeah?”
“Is that the only word you know?”
“No. Sorry. I’m a little…”
“Are you alright over there, James? I hope the drive wasn’t too trying,” Sirius said loudly.
“Huh?” James tripped on one of the pebbles lining the fountain. “The drive was good.”
“A little long, we thought you lived closer to the school,” Papa said with a laugh.
“Oh, we do,” Sirius said. “We stay here on weekends and holidays but throughout the week we stay in town. Easier for Regulus. Less taxing.”
“And it means we’re closer in case of an emergency,” Remus added. “I’m sure you noticed it’s a thirty minute drive from here to the centre of town near the school. We can’t have that.”
“It’s easier to pack up his life twice a week?” Mama laughed.
Sirius cocked his head. “Of course not. We wouldn’t do that.”
“So…”
“He has things that remain there, things that remain here,” Sirius explained with a wave of his hand. “Like his tablets, his laptops, his gaming consoles… I mean, could you imagine the hassle of packing up all of those? And what about his books or his clothes? No, we just buy multiples of everything.”
“It’s a lot easier,” Remus said, vaguely embarrassed and a touch defensive.
James stared vacantly at the house. Multiple homes.
Right. They were dealing with the kind of generational wealth his lineage wouldn’t see for at least a century or two. Probably even longer.
Unless he married into the Blacks—
Lowering his voice, he said to Regulus, “How big would you say this place is?”
“The house itself is around two hundred and fifty thousand square feet.” Regulus shrugged. “But the grounds are…nine hundred acres in total, I believe.”
Stunned, James just stared at him.
Regulus must have read his expression as he explained, “We utilise it well. There is the main house, of course, and a separate guest house about a ten minute walk in that direction.” He gestured vaguely to the back of the mansion. “There’s a tennis court over there, greenhouses down there. To the left is a swimming area with both indoor and outdoor pools, then there’s a yoga studio just past the coach house, our museum, and even a small golf course by the border of the forest.”
All James could say was, “A golf course?”
“It’s only thirty-six holes.”
“Oh, only,” James said flatly.
Nine hundred acres of land.
He wondered what they did with all the excess space. The amenities Regulus listed wouldn’t even take up half of the land at their disposal.
Regulus seemed unbothered by his snark. “I know, I have tried to petition for a renovation of the course but Dad said no because I hardly use it anyway.”
“That makes sense.”
Regulus’ lower lip stuck out. “I don’t use it because I’ve been playing the same twenty-seven holes my entire life. I’m bored of it. The country club is just as dull.”
James tried not to make a rich boy joke. He settled for changing the subject. “So, nine hundred acres. I’m surprised you don’t have a stable with twelve horses and a carriage.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Regulus said with a roll of his eyes. James went to agree, only for him to add, “We only have six horses. Why would we need twelve?”
James blinked. “And the carriage?”
“This isn’t Cinderella. We use golf carts or the roadways.”
Electing to ignore the golf cart comment, James said, “Roadways?”
“Appa hates using the golf carts, says it makes him feel like a prat. So, he spent a summer implementing a series of pathways wide enough to drive a car on. He forgot to make it double-laned, though, so we can only use one car at a time without risking ruining the grass.”
“What a tragedy.”
“I know.” Regulus’ voice was startlingly earnest.
James suppressed a smile. A lot about Regulus was starting to make more sense. “Up to taking me on a tour later? I bet I could kick your arse at golf.”
“Please, I am going to destroy you.” Regulus nodded towards the house. “We’ll finish up here first. You haven’t even seen inside the mansion yet.”
Part of James didn’t really want to. The morning sun cast a stunning glow over Regulus’ smooth, lightly tanned skin, highlighting the stormy grey of his eyes. Strands of glossy hair were illuminated by the golden rays, turning his usual black hair to a richly deep brown. James wanted to bury his fingers in the strands but he knew any attempt at messing with his hair would end in him losing a limb.
“James? Mr Black has invited us in for tea.” Papa patted him on the back. “Are you coming?”
“Afterwards I’m going to give James the tour,” Regulus said brightly. “Would you and your wife like to come with us?”
“Oh, we wouldn’t want to intrude,” Mama said with an adoring smile as she followed Regulus towards the house.
“No closed doors,” Sirius said as he passed them.
Regulus made a disgusted noise. “Appa!”
Sirius laughed loudly but Remus frowned as he fell into step with his son.
“Now, bumblebee, you know the rules,” Remus said sternly.
Shooting a quick glance to James, Regulus flushed. “Dad, you’re embarrassing me.”
“Sorry about that, sweetheart. We just want you to be safe.”
“Dad!”
“Wow,” James exhaled as he slowly took in Regulus’ bedroom. “This place is huge.”
James tried not to let his jealousy show as he frowned at all of the pictures on Regulus’ wall of him and Barty. They had been friends forever, it seemed. Some of these pictures showed them as small children barely old enough to be in school.
Regulus only hummed as he continued searching for the book they had been reading in English. Apparently Regulus bought a second copy to annotate, which left James feeling sore. He’d thought stealing Regulus’ book yesterday would mean they could share a book today. Perfect for flirting.
As always, Regulus was one step ahead of him.
“I’m sure it’s over here somewhere. We might have to try one of the other rooms. Maybe Dad has seen it.”
The mention of his parents made James snort. “I mean, I knew your house was big but this is crazy. If your room is this massive, I bet your parents’ room is insane.”
Confused, Regulus peered over his shoulder at him. “What do you mean?”
"The primary bedroom is always the biggest.” James smirked as he joked, “Don’t tell me they have an entire floor to themselves.”
But Regulus didn’t laugh, he just looked even more confused. “This is the primary bedroom.”
James blinked. “I thought you were showing me your room.”
“I am.”
“Then…”
Regulus looked a little sad. “Oh, I suppose your parents don’t subscribe to the importance rule?”
“Huh?”
“Appa said the most important person in the house gets the biggest room,” he explained plainly with a gesture around the room. “Of course, when I was little, this room sufficed, but as I’ve aged and acquired more talents and hobbies and interests, I’ve simply grown out of this place.”
James struggled to keep up. “So, you were given this room when you got older?”
“No, I’ve had this room since I was a baby. Keep up, James,” Regulus said with a huff. “My other rooms came later.”
James was struck silent. He opened his mouth to respond only for his voice to fail. What on Earth did Regulus mean? He could not be implying he had multiple bedrooms.
That was absurd. That was overkill. That was…
Very Sirius Black.
“Oh! I bet that’s where my book is.” Regulus snapped his fingers. “I always try to keep each room contained but sometimes things get misplaced.”
“You…” James swallowed thickly. “You have more than one room?”
Regulus hummed. “Of course. How would I fit all my books, trophies, and clothes in this one room? I would hardly be able to breathe.”
James sort of wanted to laugh.
“No, I have three bedrooms and a private study,” Regulus said proudly. “I also have two bathrooms but that’s only because one is on the ground floor while the other is through there since this is my main bedroom.” He pointed to a door on the other end of his ‘main bedroom’.
What a ridiculous notion.
James was obsessed with him.
“And you make good use of these three bedrooms?”
Regulus gave a haughty little sniff as he folded his arms. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, I’m just curious.”
Regulus narrowed his eyes. “For your information, I make sure to spend at least one week in each room. Prolongs the life of my mattresses and ensures I utilise the space correctly.”
“Let me guess, you spend two weeks in this room, hence why it’s your main bedroom.”
“And it has an en-suite. The others have bathrooms a door or two down.”
“How nightmarish.”
“I know.”
James turned away to hide his grin. Fucking phenomenal. “What about during the school week? Does your other house have multiple rooms?”
“Obviously.” Regulus sniffed. “Only two, though. The house in town is so small.”
“How many bedrooms?”
“Six,” Regulus said with a wrinkled nose. “Two are mine, one is my parents’, two are studies for Dad and Appa, and the last one is a spare in case of sleepovers.”
“Sleepovers?”
“Well, I’ve never been very good at sharing.”
“I wonder why.”
“Appa says it’s a Black trait.”
Disbelieving, James said, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.”
Regulus shrugged. “I love Barty but he wouldn’t keep my room as neat as I like. And my second bedroom is still mine. So, the guest room is where he stays during sleepovers.”
“Do you often have sleepovers?”
“Only with Barty. His father is awful so he often comes over to spend the night.”
“Do you have a lot of homes, then?” James decided to change the subject. Thinking of Barty and Regulus having sleepovers made him feel weirdly sick.
“I suppose so. Most people only have one or two, right?”
“One, yeah.”
“Hm, well, then yes.”
“So…”
“You want to know how many?”
James hesitated. “Is it more than five?”
Regulus blinked owlishly.
“Ten?”
Regulus grimaced.
“Fifteen?”
Regulus smiled. “Eighteen! Wait here, I’m going to check my second room. I think my book is in there.”
Feeling oddly lightheaded, James sat on the fancy wingback chair in front of the dressing table. His fingers grasped the arms, savouring the plush, velvety fabric. It was probably made of unicorn skin or something. Apparently Regulus was rich enough to have access to materials like that.
“Eighteen homes,” James muttered to himself.
“Found it!” Regulus held up the book triumphantly as he glided into the room. “I forgot I had been reading it while I was getting ready. It must have been during one of my weeks in that room. I’m sorry for the wait.”
“Easy mistake to make,” James said numbly.
“Okay, we’ll study for an hour and then continue with the tour.”
Mind stuck on the absurdity of it all, James only nodded and stumbled blindly after Regulus to his enormous desk.
“…and this is the coach house. Daddy keeps his car here along with Appa’s and mine.”
Regulus gestured first to the black Rolls Royce, then the sleek, red Aston Martin. Both cars had personalised plates but his attention was instantly captured by what Regulus had said as he pointed to the third car, a masterpiece of silver metal and black accents.
“Yours?” James blurted. “You can drive?”
“I’m fifteen.”
James gave him a disbelieving look. As if age had ever stopped Regulus before.
Regulus sighed. “Okay, I can drive. Appa insisted I be taught early but you aren’t allowed to tell anyone. Daddy doesn’t know yet, he just thinks Appa is being silly by buying me my cars early.”
“Cars?” James emphasised the plurality. “How many cars do you have?”
“Well, only two. I have the Mercedes and then Appa insisted I had to have a flashier car to match his so he bought me a Bugatti. They keep it in the underground garage. Appa only let me drive it once.” He finished with a pronounced pout.
James stared hard at the personalised number plate on Regulus’ car.
RAB15
Insane.
James knew better than to ask why Regulus had two cars at fifteen and decided to change the subject a little. “Where is the other garage?”
“Under the house. Appa was inspired by Tony Stark. Dad thinks it’s hilarious.”
“Cool.”
Regulus shrugged. “If you say so.”
“You don’t like cars?”
“I don’t like to drive. I’m too spoiled.”
“It’s good that you can admit it.”
The sound of Regulus’ laughter made his tummy tingle. “I know I’m a pampered brat, James. Appa and Daddy never let me want for anything.”
“I think it’s sweet. They love you a lot.”
“More than anything, even each other,” Regulus said the words like they were a well-known phrase. “Hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“Excellent, then let’s go to the kitchen.”
“Hello.”
Milk sloshed over the marble counter as James dropped his spoon into his bowl of cereal. “Fuck!”
The unfamiliar man raised an eyebrow and cast a look of deep judgement upon James. “Such language is unbecoming.”
“Lay off it, Kreacher,” Sirius said as he waltzed into the room. Remus followed close behind with James’ parents who had vaguely starstruck expressions on their faces. Despite their own wealth, James too was stunned by the casual splendour of the Black household.
The man, Kreacher, gave a miserable sniff and refused to so much as glance in Sirius’ direction. “This boy is not a good influence on Young Master Regulus. He eats like an animal and curses like a sailor.”
“So does Barty, yet you like him.”
Remus smacked Sirius’ shoulder. “Stop insulting Barty. He isn’t even here.”
“And that is the only reason for my smile.”
Discomfort prickled at the base of James’ neck. He couldn’t stand Barty Crouch. Why Regulus chose such a prat as his best friend was beyond all understanding. Regulus was clever and sweet. Barty was a menace to society who thought sneaking razor blades into James’ macaroni was fun.
“I’m sorry for the mess.” James dabbed at the spilled milk with his sleeve. “Regulus made us some cereal but then he left.” He gestured awkwardly to the bowl beside his own.
Sirius gazed fondly at the green bowl like it was a treasured gift. “Bless him. Cereal and toast are the only things he can make. He’s a hazard in the kitchen.”
“Because he’s never needed to make anything for himself,” Remus said candidly, but he sounded just as adoring as his husband.
“Little Master shouldn’t have to make his own meals. He’s delicate,” Kreacher grumbled. He smacked James’ hand away with a tea towel and began properly sanitising and cleaning the counter.
Fearful of the man’s wrath, James clutched his and Regulus’ bowls while his parents exchanged bemused glances.
Remus and Sirius’ quiet bickering was interrupted by the reappearance of their son. James watched them soften, bodies twisting and heads swivelling to follow Regulus’ graceful movements like two sunflowers tracking the sun.
Once Regulus was perched on the stool beside James, he sighed.
“My apologies for leaving. Barty was in grave distress.”
“Can we go one day without talking about that wretch?” Sirius asked.
“No.”
Remus cleared his throat and frowned at Regulus. “Bumblebee, are you hungry?”
Regulus sighed again. “Daddy, I’m eating.”
“Cereal isn’t an appropriate meal. There’s hardly any nutrition.”
“I will make lunch,” Kreacher said decisively.
“You don’t have to do that, Kreacher. I’m only a little peckish. Cereal will do fine.”
Kreacher ignored him, choosing instead to rifle through different cupboards as he muttered to himself and shot disdainful glares at Sirius and James. Confused, James continued eating.
What had he done wrong?
“No, he does. I told him to set out a spread of snacks and he failed to do so.” Sirius gave Kreacher a baleful glare.
Surprisingly, the older man returned the look just as hatefully.
“Young Master said the snacks were unacceptable,” Kreacher said tightly.
Sirius turned to Regulus. “Baby?”
“He put out caviar, Appa,” Regulus said. “It frightened James.”
Mortified, James busied himself with his cereal. The caviar on the dining room table had been the least outwardly offensive snack, so he gave it a try when Regulus offered. The second the pearls landed on his tongue he felt the urge to gag. It wasn’t even the buttery, slightly salty taste that made him feel sick, it was the texture. Each pop of the pearls was a sensory nightmare and Regulus only patted his shoulder in understanding as he quietly admitted that he wasn’t a fan of caviar for the same reason.
“What’s wrong with that?” Sirius asked. “Caviar is exceptional. Did you use the beluga or osetra?”
Kreacher sniffed. “Beluga.”
Sirius threw his hands up. “Then what’s the issue?
“He doesn’t like it, Appa,” Regulus said tiredly.
“I’ve never had it before,” James admitted.
Sirius looked completely lost. “But it’s a staple for any fine dining experience.”
“Not for normal people,” Remus said, rubbing his husband’s shoulder.
“We are normal!”
“Actually normal, dear. Not absurdly rich and masquerading as normal.”
Sirius continued to look stunned.
“Let’s leave the kids alone,” Remus said.
“But—”
“I’d love to see that golf course you keep bragging about, Sirius,” Mama said suddenly. “I used to be quite good at golf.”
“I assure you, I’m better.”
“Oh, I don't know. My Effie is good at everything.” Papa tipped his chin proudly.
Sirius narrowed his eyes. “You two are in for it now. Moony, get your caddy. We’re playing a round of golf! Parents versus parents.”
Regulus sighed loudly.
James swung his legs boredly as they watched Papa struggle to swing his golf club. When he finally hit the ball, it veered too far left much to Mama’s visible disappointment. But she just petted his head when he shuffled over and buried his face in her neck sadly.
“I thought he would be better at this. He seems quite athletic,” Regulus commented, nibbling on one of the snacks Kreacher provided for them.
They had given up on studying. James couldn’t focus. So, they decided to watch the parents bully each other while eating and chatting.
“Papa’s great at contact sports. Mama is better at anything requiring strategy.”
“Aren’t both of your parents geniuses?”
“Yeah, but Papa gets too excited. He’s also not very competitive, so he doesn’t really care if he’s winning. He just wants to have fun. But Mama is a demon. She wins or she dies.”
Regulus raised an eyebrow. “Who are you more like?”
James shrugged. “Bit of both. It depends on the situation.”
“I can see that. You’re quite easygoing, although I’ve seen how you can be on the pitch.”
Heat flared in his cheeks. Did Regulus usually watch him during football matches?
“No!” Sirius shouted. “Moony, get your head in the game!”
While Papa’s shot had gone wide, Remus' ball rocketed several metres past the hole from a heavy hit.
“Sorry,” Remus said awkwardly.
Sirius threw his club on the ground as Mama turned to him with a smug expression.
“Weren’t your parents meant to go home hours ago?” Regulus asked.
James sighed. “Yeah.” He was pretty sure they were just glad to finally have friends who were crazier than them.
They both reached for the bowl of toffee popcorn sitting on the bench between them.
James immediately pulled back and tried to push the bowl towards Regulus, but apparently he had the same idea. They ended up locked in a stalemate, both touching one edge of the bowl.
“Yes!”
Mama’s shriek of joy made James flinch. He glanced back at the golf course and saw his parents hugging and cheering while Sirius scolded Remus on another bad shot.
“You can have it,” James said, blushing.
Regulus hesitated. “Thank you.”
There was a tense silence between them but it wasn’t awkward. James felt a little like he was on a rollercoaster waiting for the drop that would be nothing short of thrilling.
“Do you want to go and see the museum?”
“Museum?” James parroted numbly.
A pretty headband swept Regulus’ dark curls back, giving James an unobstructed view of his pretty face in the afternoon sun.
“Appa likes art. He has a whole collection.” Regulus popped another piece of popcorn in his mouth.
“Oh, that sounds cool. What kinds of artwork?”
“All the famous ones.”
James laughed. “Like Picasso?”
Offended, Regulus stared at him darkly. “No, Appa hates him. He was a terrible misogynist and an abuser.”
“Really?”
Regulus nodded.
“Well, then fuck Picasso.”
“Trust me, many people did. That was part of the problem.” Regulus rose from the bench and James’ mind went blank. “Come on, we can take one of the golf carts.”
“Is it back at the mansion?”
Regulus only giggled.
As it turned out, the Black family’s art collection was extensive. Rather than a few paintings or a room with some cool statues, Regulus’ parents had curated an entire collection in a large building of various works of art.
Framed paintings, large sculptures, statues and other pieces crafted by hand either from glass, ceramic, marble, clay, or metal. Every piece had a little white card naming the title and artist.
James leaned in to read from the once closest to him. “‘Nativity with Saint Francis and Saint Lawrence’ by Caravaggio.”
“We have ‘The Martyrdom of Saint Ursula’ over there.” Regulus pointed boredly. “Appa really likes Caravaggio’s work. And that he was a bruiser. Caravaggio spent a lot of time fighting people and then painting.”
Sort of like Sirius. No wonder he was a fan.
“These are cool,” James said mildly. He didn’t know a lot about art but he could imagine this whole collection was pretty impressive for someone more knowledgeable on the subject. “What does this symbol mean?”
Regulus glanced at the card. “The red circle means it’s a missing piece. The nativity scene has been thought lost for decades. Appa’s great auntie stole it.”
James blinked. “Stole it?”
“Yeah, she was bored.”
“Wait a minute…” James looked around at all of the artworks and sculptures with red circles on their placards. “Half of this stuff is stolen?”
“Privately acquired,” Regulus corrected firmly. “Daddy insisted Appa start loaning some stuff out for the benefit of the art world. We also sold a Caravaggio back to the Italian State ‘cause Appa sucked during their last Mario Kart tournament against Auntie Mary and Auntie Lily.”
“Your dad made your appa give back a priceless painting as punishment for losing a video game?”
“It wasn’t priceless. It sold for thirty million euros.”
James stared.
Regulus flicked a stray piece of his hair back. “Appa used the money to buy me a yacht.”
“Do you…like…yachts?”
“I can’t swim. So, no, not really.”
James just laughed weakly.
This family was insane.
And he couldn’t wait to join it.