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To love is to look back.
Deep down, he knows this to be true. Deep down, he knows that love isn’t as simple as walking down a clear path without voices echoing in his head — taunting him as doubts swirled and threatened to swallow him whole. If it was that simple, then the story of Orpheus and Eurydice wouldn’t have become so famous — famous enough to be hailed as one of the greatest love stories ever told.
Deep down, he knows it’s easy to say, “He should’ve just waited ‘til they were out of the Underworld to check,” or “If he wanted her back, he should’ve been patient and trusted her to be behind him.”
But, of course, it’s always easier said than done, isn’t it?
They all claimed that it was a story of great love and sacrifice.
Still, Regulus was starting to hate that myth. It sounded more like a horror story to him. He was a firm believer that Orpheus was an idiot who could have just marched through the voices and the doubts to get what he wanted. How hard was it to follow instructions? Did he not trust her love for him? If there is no trust, can it still be called love?
If you ask him, Eurydice would have been better off in the Underworld — for what else was waiting for her back in her old life? Empty cupboards that gathered dust and cobwebs? A fireplace that has long forgotten the feel of warmth, much less the weight of firewood? A bed so stiff, she’d be better off sleeping on the ground?
What exactly could be worth suffering through hunger, poverty, and discomfort?
Love?
It was stupid. So so stupid.
What right did Love have to deem itself worthy of sacrificing one’s self over and over again?
A soft sigh pushed its way past Regulus’ lips as his eyebrows furrowed deeper. He closed his eyes to grant himself some reprieve before tracing the words on the book he was reading — trying to find the part he left off. It was a book on Greek mythology that Pandora had given him a few months ago. She thought he would like it as he seemed to enjoy reading tragedies — a common theme in a lot of Greek stories, apparently. Back then, he thought it was a distraction from his studies, but now that darkness slowly creeped along the halls of Hogwarts and whispers of the inevitable war started to spread, Regulus welcomed anything that distracted him from all of it. He didn’t want to think about what awaited him when he goes back to that house for winter break — what he’d be forced to take once Walburga has him in her grasp again.
Pandora wasn’t wrong though, he did enjoy reading tragic stories, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel frustrated from the sheer idiocy of the characters.
All this trouble for love? Yeah, right.
Let it be known that Regulus Arcturus Black was a major skeptic. How could love possibly be worth all this suffering? Do these people have no sense of self-preservation at all? If you ask him, he-
“Jeez, Reg, what did the book do to piss you off?”
Regulus lifted his head and met dark brown eyes that crinkled with amusement. James Potter stood in front of him, his glasses slightly askew on his stupid, handsome face and his curly hair being swept by the gentle breeze, as if the Greek gods themselves blew the breeze to remind Regulus that he might be as stupid as Orpheus.
Regulus said nothing for a split second before a practiced scowl made its way to his face and his eyes squinted at James. “Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me, Potter?” He said, closing the book in his hands.
“You underestimate just how much joy it brings me to bother you, Reggie,” James teased, his amused smile forming into a playful smirk that left Regulus internally panicking, wishing that the other boy didn’t notice how red his ears were turning. “I’d pick annoying you over anything.” He winked.
He winked.
Regulus was going to drown himself.
What the hell is he talking about? What does that even mean?
Feeling as though he had lost his footing, Regulus stood up from the shady spot under a tree — shame, it took him a while to find a perfect place to read that was close enough to hear the comforting sounds of the water from the lake and far enough to avoid anyone from the castle. He couldn’t dwell on it now as he was too preoccupied with desperately trying not to show just how warm his face had gotten. He shoved his way past James, who was now cackling as he sped through his apologies, “Reg, hey, I’m sorry — I was just teasing!”
James quickly fell into step with Regulus even as he rushed to escape before he could do something crazy and embarrassing like accidentally blush in front of the boy he swore to loathe. That would be so bad for his reputation — even worse, Barty was going to laugh at him. Regulus thinks he’d rather take a hex than be laughed at by Barty of all people.
“Leave me alone, Potter. You already have my brother, go bother him instead,” Regulus hissed, feeling his shoulders come up to his ears as he tried to hide just how flustered he was getting just by having James Potter’s attention on him for more than two minutes.
“No, I’d already had my fill of teasing Sirius today. Not going to push it unless I want to get severely pranked, y’know,” James said, his eyes gliding from Regulus’ face to the book in his hands — thank Merlin, Regulus thought he couldn’t breathe anymore after having James’ eyes on his face for so long. “What were you reading? You looked like you were about to go off on the characters and call them idiots.” The boy chuckled as he tried to get a better view of the book.
Regulus paused. How the hell did James Potter know exactly what he was thinking of earlier?
He narrowed his eyes at James, his arms instinctively hugging the book closer to his chest. “What exactly do you want, Potter?” Regulus asked, halting in his steps and turning to face James fully, his neck craning to look up at the other boy. Thinly veiled curiosity painting his flushed face.
James opened his mouth and looked to the side before his mouth closed, suddenly looking unsure of himself as his hand raised to scratch the back of his neck. James’ gaze flittered about until it finally settled on Regulus and — Oh, Merlin. James thinks time may have paused with them.
Yes. This. This is what I need. Exactly this. Please keep looking at me, Regulus.
James feels mildly insane. How could someone’s eyes look exactly like the sky when a storm is about to come on? He feels as if he could be struck down by lightning right now and it wouldn’t compare to being jolted alive by Regulus’ beautiful eyes on him. Then, almost unconsciously, his eyes dropped lower and he started mapping out the constellation of freckles on Regulus’ face. They could rival the stars in his grey eyes. James wasn’t sure what exactly about Regulus made his breath catch in his throat and his heart ache with a fierce longing he could spend a lifetime denying but feel anyway in spite of himself. In spite of everything, really. There were strands of black hair that landed on Regulus’ cheeks brought on by the winds, they were lying on the freckles there like they were a bed of stars. James wonders what would happen if he reached out and tucked Regulus’ hair behind his ear and brush his thumb on the freckles that littered his cheeks.
Yeah. Definitely insane. Regulus would kill him if he did that, he thinks.
Regulus, on the other hand, feels as if he’s about to melt to the ground.
No. No, stop. Why is he looking at me like that? Please stop looking at me like that.
Clearing his throat, he averted his eyes and said, “Potter?” Without meaning to, his voice came out soft instead of the scolding tone he intended to use. His posture was stiff and perfect as usual, but uncertainty was clear in how his hands started fidgeting with the book he was holding.
James startled, seemingly brought back into his body as he coughed. “I just — I just wanted to know what you were reading. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” He rambled, his pitch rising as he stumbled over himself — What the hell was he thinking, gawking at Regulus like that? Merlin, if Regulus won’t kill him, then Sirius definitely will.
“I’ll leave you alone really. You don’t have to leave. I’ll just, um, I’ll—“
“Love.”
A breath. Then, Regulus’ whole face burned red.
Fuck. So much for his reputation.
“I-I mean, it’s a book on Greek myths. I just happened to be reading one about love. It’s kind of stupid, I do not think I would make the same decisions as the characters,” Great. Now, he’s the one rambling. Get it together, Regulus. “That is all there is to it.” He pursed his lips shut, silently hoping James hasn’t seen through him.
It wasn’t long before Regulus felt the full force of the sun when James beamed at him — his whole face brightening up, eyes crinkling again while his mouth stretched into an excited smile. “Oh, I love learning about Greek myths!” He exclaimed, “Remus told me about some of them — like the one with Achilles and Patroclus. A tragic pair, them two. Remus also told me about Odysseus and how he took 20 years to get back home to his wife and kid — you’d think he would make good decisions since he was hailed as such a wise king. Load of bull if he took 20 years to get home, I reckon. Heracles was also kind of tragic — I mean, can you imagine going through all of those trials? I don’t think I would survive!”
Regulus could feel his eyes softening. It was endearing to see James be so animated and genuinely excited about an interest that Regulus had. He spoke with his hands, and Regulus couldn’t stop his lips from twitching — the beginnings of a smile that he’s fighting so hard to smother before it blossomed on his face. If his reputation isn’t dead yet from his fumbling, then a smile will definitely finish it off.
Regulus tucked the strands of hair on his cheeks behind his ear and spoke, “Pandora did tell me that most Greek myths are tragedies. I was reading the story of Orpheus and Eurydice.” He glanced at the book he was clutching to his chest before opening it to the page he was in. James inched closer to take a glance of the page — the warmth from his body radiating and reaching the exposed skin on Regulus’ hands. He shivered involuntarily.
“I haven’t heard of this one,” James mumbled, eyes scanning the words on the page. Regulus felt slightly out of breath from the lack of distance between them. “Can you tell it to me?” James asked, lifting his head to look at Regulus with the most devastatingly big, brown eyes framed with long, thick lashes that touched his cheeks whenever he blinked. An eager, hopeful look on his face.
Why was James doing this? Is he not aware of the growing tension between their houses? The war was looming over them and he wants to talk about made-up stories?
He should say no. Nothing would change if he did — and if something did change, it would be for the better. He should decline and avoid any attempts James made to interact with him — to know him, to feel him, to…
He should say no. It would make things easier — to let go now instead of holding on to something fanciful. James isn’t like him — in more ways than one.
He should say no.
Sighing, he turned away from James and kept walking — for a moment, he considered just making a run for it or telling James to leave him alone for good. The way Sirius did. The way James eventually will. But, if there’s one thing he’s slowly starting to realize, it’s that he’s a complete idiot for James Potter. So, he stopped.
Then, he looked back.
James stood where he was, hands fidgeting at his sides as he stared down at the ground with a look so forlorn, it took everything in Regulus not to run to him and assure him that he’d give him anything if he asked. If only he’d ask. Regulus took a breath and tightened his hold on the book, his knuckles whitening as he struggled to calm his heart.
“Are you just going to stand there?” Regulus asked, looking anywhere but at James.
He missed the way James’ head snapped back up — the way light found his eyes again. Regulus could practically feel him vibrating as he bounded over to him. “Do you know anything about Orpheus and Eurydice? Anything you heard from Lupin?” He asked, leading James to walk along the shores of the lake.
“None at all.” James smiled sheepishly, subtly shuffling closer to Regulus. The shorter boy sighed and started the story. Maybe then, he’ll make sense of Orpheus’ decisions — though, deep down, Regulus thinks he already knows.
“Orpheus was a poor boy. He had nothing to his name but a lyre and a talent for mesmerizing the Gods with his songs. He was a son of Apollo and one of the Nine Muses, so he was blessed to be able to tame beasts and soften steel and stones with his music. He also was a bit of dreamer. He saw the world for what it could be. As far as I’ve read, he seemed to have his head in the clouds, preferring to play music over anything,” Regulus narrated, kicking the rocks by his feet lightly as he tried to collect his thoughts. “Then, he met Eurydice. A girl struggling to keep herself fed, warm, and comfortable. A realist, who saw the world as it was: cruel, unforgiving, unfair. All she’d ever known was how to hold her own. In spite of it all, they fell in love and decided to be together, but then—“
Regulus took a deep breath, pausing as he took a peek at James’ face, searching for a reaction. He found James’ eyes on him with a look so intense, he promptly panicked and quickly looked away — Wow, could you be any more pathetic?
Regulus shooed away the voices in his mind that were chastising him and cleared his throat to speak again, “But then, Eurydice was bitten by a snake and died. Her soul reached the Underworld where Orpheus couldn’t reach her.” He paused as a chill ran through them. He shivered and pulled his cloak tighter around him.
As soon as he did, he heard rustling beside him and turned to see James taking off his own cloak before handing it to him. Regulus felt his eyes widen, “What are you doing?”
James looked at him with a small smile, “I rarely get cold, Reg. You, on the other hand…” He trailed off, his small smile morphing into a playful grin. Regulus’ train of thought took a sharp turn and he completely lost sight of it. His slowing heart rate picked back up again as he looked at James with an incredulous look.
“I’m not wearing that.” Regulus huffed, turning away. Wearing a Gryffindor cloak out where anyone could see? Anyone who could possibly tattle to his mother? Please, being with James right now was already bad enough.
“Reg, come on. No one’s out here, you won’t lose your tough guy facade if you shield yourself from the cold,” James teased as he nudged his cloak closer to Regulus — James just wants to make sure Regulus is warm, of course. He totally isn’t curious about what Regulus looks like with his cloak on, no. Nope. Of course not. That would be absurd. He’s totally sure that Regulus in any item of his clothing wouldn’t affect him in the slightest.
Please just accept it, Regulus. Please please please—
Regulus sighed and James — the poor thing — couldn’t help but hold his breath. It was such a simple gesture — he was only offering his cloak. So, why does James feel like he was offering so much more? Why does he feel like his chest would burst if Regulus said no?
Let it also be known that James Potter is a fool when it comes to Regulus Black.
It took a minute and another gust of wind to convince Regulus to wear his cloak. He grumbled as he snatched it from James’ hands to put it on, soft pink coloring his freckled cheeks so delicately, James wants to scream. He looked so soft, James had to bite the inside of his cheeks to stop his feelings from spilling out of his mouth.
Words, James, come on. Say something.
“So, Eurydice dies,” James exhaled, trying to pick up where they left off with the story — really, he just needed to distract himself from bouncing around Regulus. However, as James recalled the story, he felt his mood dim a little. “That seems awfully quick. They just got together, and now they’re separated forever? How is that fair?” James wondered, brows scrunching up and his lips curling into a frown. It was faint, but somewhere in the back of his mind, the thought that he didn’t want to continue the story anymore surfaced.
Regulus let out a sigh that sounded more like a soft chuckle, “Fairness isn’t exactly a common theme in Greek myths. Hence why they are considered tragedies,” He pointed out to James with a sardonic smile to which James just shook his head, a deep frown settling on his face — almost like he couldn’t fathom why people in love could have such a cruel fate. Regulus continued, “Of course, tragedies only fuel the romantics to go even further, to come up with grander gestures. Orpheus, refusing his and his beloved’s fate, sought to change the ending. He went after her in the Underworld where he met the God of the Dead, Hades, and the Goddess of Spring, Persephone. There, he used his gift of music to charm the God and Goddess to let him bring Eurydice back home.”
Regulus pursed his lips, feeling his prior annoyance return as he remembered Orpheus’ idiotic actions. “Hades agreed, but Gods are not known for their abundance in mercy. He couldn’t just let them go that easily. So, he gave them one strict rule: Orpheus was to walk in front of Eurydice and never turn back to look at her until they both have made it out of the Underworld together.” A small grimace marred James’ face. Regulus could see the puzzle pieces coming into place in James’ mind — and he clearly did not like where this was going.
“What happens if he does?” James asked almost tentatively, feeling his heart break for Orpheus. James always did feel more than what he could take. It was a quality that a lot of people admire him for. Empathy.
James thinks he’d prefer to feel nothing at all sometimes.
Regulus bent to pick up a stone, examining it in his hands before tossing it in the air a few times. He seemed distracted as he continued the story. “If he turns before they both cross over to the land of the living, Eurydice would return to the Underworld. He’d lose her for good.” Regulus answered, tossing the rock in the air one final time before dropping it to the ground. James felt his heart drop with it.
“They made it pretty far. Orpheus had just crossed, thinking they’d survive the worst of it. Then, he turned around.” Regulus said, feeling an ache build between his eyes and he reached up to massage it with his fingers. It was ridiculous. They were so close. He just had to ruin it.
“He turned before Eurydice could take the final step out of the Underworld. When their eyes met, she slipped back into the darkness and never saw the light of day again. That’s it.” Regulus doesn’t know what changed since he read the ending earlier, but recounting it now made him feel like there was a weight on his chest that he couldn’t shake. Regulus felt James stop in his steps and face him with a bewildered look in his eyes.
“That’s it?” James asks incredulously, “That’s how it ends?”
Regulus raised an eyebrow, “It’s a tragedy, Potter. What were you expecting?”
James let out a sharp inhale, eyebrows furrowing and an almost petulant look in his eyes. “That’s a terrible story,” James mumbled, “They literally went to hell and back, and they still don’t get a happy ending?” Rationally, James knew that it wasn’t even a real story and he shouldn’t be so worked up about it. But he couldn’t help it — something about this story didn’t sit right with him. It made him feel restless, like a strange sense of foreboding was settling in his bones and he couldn’t stop it. He felt like bargaining with the Gods himself as he looked at Regulus again.
James felt his breath cut short as Regulus regarded him with a curious look — his mouth curving into a small pout, nose scrunching up, and his head tilting slightly to the side. James, slowly realizing that he might have already memorized what the small changes on Regulus’ face meant and is totally not panicking about it, reeled his frustration in and asked, “What is it?”
The younger boy debated if he should ask the question that nagged at him since they started this conversation. Regulus was starting to realize that all the years practicing restraint and propriety — having those lessons beaten into him by Walburga and Orion ‘til his mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood, ‘til his lips refused to open without first measuring the weight of the words he would let out — flew out the window whenever James Potter is concerned.
What would it matter anyway? He already knows how their story would end regardless of James’ answer.
So, he stood in front of James and asked, “Would you do the same?”
James couldn’t breathe.
It was a cruel scene.
The wind rushing. Their cloaks billowing around them. The sun coming down, painting the skies in warm orange. The moon peeking from just behind the castle, blues bleeding into orange.
And them.
It was beautiful.
They stood facing each other. Perfect parallel lines — one knowing they would never meet and the other denying that they never will.
In another life, it could have been the perfect time for them to just feel — for them to wear their hearts on their sleeves, to intertwine their lives together until they don’t know where one ends and the other begins, to share smiles and so much more, and to take their time.
But that life seemed to enjoy evading them.
It was beautiful and it was cruel.
Regulus could feel his lungs starting to burn from holding his breath. His eyes never left James. He couldn’t stop himself from cataloguing everything about James. He had a feeling that he should abandon any sense of shame now and just have his fill of the boy who had stolen his heart at 11 before he lost the chance to. Thinking about it now, James had taken so much from Regulus. Every time his breath hitched, every time his cheeks filled with color, every skip of his traitorous heart, and every time his own brother abandoned him — they were all because of James.
It was unfair that he could love someone just as much as he resents them.
Maybe this is what Eurydice felt — trusting her love to bring her back, leaving her fate in his hands, coming so close to the surface only to be plunged back into the darkness. Over and over again. Never realizing that this would always be their fate. One dead and the other wishing they were too.
Only Regulus has never known the warmth of being in James’ arms. He has never felt the brightness of the sun. He never will. He used to think he would be able to bask in the sunlight — Sirius promised him that they’d meet the sunrise together. But the sun’s starting to set now. And Sirius left him in that cold, dark house alone while he soaked up the warmth of the Potters. He does not think he can ever forgive Sirius for leaving him. He does not think he can ever forgive James for taking his brother from him.
He does not think he can ever forgive himself for loving them anyway. He understands. He hates that he understands.
The silence stretched for as long as it could before the thread eventually snapped and James sucked a breath in. He couldn’t think of anything else but the look on Regulus’ eyes — much less an answer to the question the younger boy posed. He felt his mouth move before his brain could catch up, just as it always did.
“Yes.”
The answer came easy — like it was decided already, like it was destined for him to follow in Orpheus’ footsteps. James doesn’t like what that implies. So, he rushes to find an explanation or a scenario where he could accomplish what Orpheus couldn’t. He would do better. He would be more patient. He would keep his love alive.
But even then, James knew it was futile. Whatever plan he could come up with or how much hope he could muster wouldn’t matter if fate is against it. He hates it. He hates that he understands why Orpheus turned. He understands because he doesn’t think he’d be able to breathe properly without Regulus beside him too. James has never known hate this ugly for an ending that wasn’t even his.
His throat felt dry as he asked, “Wouldn’t you?”
It may sound like a challenge to Regulus, but to James, it felt like a desperate attempt to see into Regulus’ mind — to his heart. Would he? If it was me, would he turn?
Regulus couldn’t help but scoff. What a stupid question.
————
The memory never faded from James’ mind. It was still as vivid as ever, like it happened just yesterday and the events following it never happened. Regulus had turned and walked away from him. For good. And he didn’t look back. He liked to pretend that it didn’t bother him — that it didn’t eat him up inside to know that he would lay his own life down for the other boy and it wouldn’t matter to Regulus. He used to think that it did matter to Regulus once upon a time — on the shores of a lake with the breeze keeping them cool. But things have changed.
Everything has changed.
And here they were now. Wands pointed at each other. The smell of death and war filling their lungs until their eyes watered.
James never thought he’d feel anger this unforgiving. He was tired and he was trying so hard to keep his light bright enough for everyone. But this—
He cannot help the sob that escaped him. He feels ragged and beaten seeing the mark on Regulus’ arm. How could he do this? How could he willingly go somewhere James cannot follow him?
“Why?” James’ voice cracked with how heavy everything feels, “Why did you let them do this to you, Regulus?”
Regulus’ eyes hardened. James searched desperately for any semblance of the softness that those eyes once had. He had it, he knows he had it — he used to look at James with the softest eyes.
Please, Regulus, come back to me.
“If you follow me again, Potter, I will—“
James felt the ugliness of his anger take control of him before he could stop it. “What? You’ll do what, Regulus?” His heart hammering in his chest. “Kill me?” James spat, suffocating from the silence around them.
Regulus flinched. Fuck.
He hated this. He never wants to see James like this again — his chest ached as James looked at him with growing hatred in his eyes. But wasn’t this what he wanted? James should hate him. He should forget about him. He should stop hoping for a future that Regulus couldn’t give him.
But the feeling burning behind James’ eyes wasn’t hatred — Regulus seemed to mistake resentment for something worse, just as he always does. James could never hate Regulus. However, he grossly underestimates just how much Regulus cares. Regulus would do anything to keep James’ fire burning. Even if that meant dying with everyone hating him.
So, he steels himself and spits out the words he hopes will solidify James’ hate.
“I’d kill Sirius if it would get you to leave me alone.” Regulus snarled — ugly, desperate, scared. He doesn’t know how to be anything else anymore.
James staggered backwards, mouth dropping in disbelief. “You don’t mean that.” But even then, he was starting to doubt himself. His throat felt tight, panic gnawing at his chest. “Reg, come on.” James couldn’t see anything else in Regulus’ eyes but emptiness. No, no, no. This isn’t right.
His eyes busy searching for anything in Regulus’ eyes that would give his true feelings away, not noticing the blood seeping from Regulus’ palms from how hard he’s clenching his fists.
It’s for the best. I’m doing this for you, James. Can’t you see I’m doing this for you?
Regulus, desperate to hide once again, lowers his wand and turns his back on James. Again. He begins walking away, trying not to falter as James chokes through his tears and sobs. His feet felt weighed down — it took everything in him to put one foot in front of the other and keep walking despite everything in him screaming at him to turn back.
But Regulus was never strong. That was more Sirius’ thing. He’d always been weak. Walburga was right.
So, he looked back.
He looked back just in time for James to turn away from him.
Ah. How could he forget?
They were parallel lines. Two sides of the war. One dreaming for a happy ending and the other accepting that there wouldn’t be one. Not for them anyway. Not in this life.
The dreamer and the realist. Orpheus and Eurydice. Regulus hated the bitter irony of it all.
Regulus has no right to think and feel the way he does — not after everything — but his chest could cave in from the ache he feels as he looks at James. Like a habit, his brain catalogued the way James looked walking away from him — not unlike that day by the lake. He takes in the way the rising sun illuminates James’ hair and tan skin — stained with dirt and soot, haunting reminders of the war they are in.
He’s so beautiful.
James once asked him if he would do what Orpheus did — if he would look back. It was a stupid question. But as he walked away from James that day, he understood.
To love is to look back.
Regulus could laugh at how much of a hypocrite he was — is. The tragic truth is that he hated how Orpheus acted because, subconsciously, he knew that he would’ve done the same — and he did. Everyone else could say that James Potter loved Regulus Black more. They saw how his brown eyes sparkled whenever Regulus was near or how he fought to keep Regulus on their side of the war.
Everyone could say that James Potter loved Regulus Black more, but they can never claim Regulus never loved James at all.
If Regulus Black loved James Potter less, he wouldn’t have waited for James to turn away from him before he looked back and watched as James walked to the castle that day, making sure he got there safely. If Regulus Black loved James Potter less, he wouldn’t have looked back now — a stubborn flame of hope in his heart refusing to die out. If Regulus Black loved James Potter less, he wouldn’t have gone in the cave, knowing he’ll never see James again but was comforted by the thought that James’ flame would still burn.
Even if he would never feel it again as ice cold water wrapped around his body — filling his lungs and burning his eyes. Even as his mind started to feel foggy and his heart stopped beating, he couldn’t find it in him to regret what he did to keep James safe.
The last thought that Regulus had was of an orange sky and a gentle breeze. Warm, brown eyes on his and he thinks,
I would do it all again for him.