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The first time he met James Potter, Regulus Black wanted to wrap his hands around his neck and choke him to death.
His murderous tendencies were a very taboo subject at family dinners, so he wasn't able to tell his brother that without sounding like a twelve year old psychopath. As if the Black name required another title. He could almost picture it in the Daily Prophet—Regulus Black, youngest criminal of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, mercilessly kills pureblood James Potter, whom his brother loves more than him, apparently.
The most disturbing part is the fact that Regulus couldn't figure out if his parents would even be ashamed of his supposed crime. After all, they considered the Potters filthy blood traitors.
But, no, he didn't kill Potter, though a big part of him truly wished to do so. It wasn't because the Gryffindor was annoying or arrogant—he was a very pleasant boy, full of life and smiles, going off about everything that has happened to him during their summer vacation so Regulus wouldn't be forced to talk. He noticed his reluctance when Sirius would encourage him to speak, tell them about the poetry he writes, or about his passion for potions, and he would make up some excuse to take the lead and turn everyone's attention to him. Normally, that would madden Regulus—when he wished for attention, he expected to receive it without needing to ask for it. But right there and then, when he was so anxious and uncomfortable with all those people looking at him like he was an infant, his stolen spotlight could only help him calm down. He refused to voice his appreciation about it, though. He still wanted to choke the guy.
Why? It was simple, really. Regulus was jealous. He couldn't help but think about one of Shakespeare's works, Othello, which said Beware, my lord, of jealousy; it is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on. Iago, despite his intentions when it came to summoning Othello's distrust, had been right.
When Sirius came home, all he could talk about was this great, too-good-to-be-true guy. James Potter, he's my best friend! Regulus had never seen him so happy and giddy—he acted like a former damsel in distress whom Potter had saved with his acts of bravery and selflessness. At first, Regulus was glad his brother had made friends, especially since he had been painfully worried that Sirius would feel alone at Hogwarts without him—damn his parents for holding him back an entire year to practice his fucking social skills. He didn't practice shit, Walburga and Orion just agreed to separate their children to make them miserable, and Regulus was sure his theory was right, given the fact that they would never allow Sirius to spend his holidays at school otherwise. Although it seemed that it didn't work for Sirius. Regulus, on the other hand, had been devastated while his brother wasn't home. He missed Sirius dearly, sneaking out of his room late at night so he could sleep into the other's instead and writing to him almost daily. Sirius was a constant presence in Regulus' life up until that point, so his absence was, to say the least, a catastrophe. Regulus has never felt so lonely, never felt such longing for something, someone. The happiness that exploded and spread evenly all over his body when he hugged Sirius for the first time in nine months was suffocating and so emotionally numbing that Regulus had felt nothing but contentment while hearing all about James Potter for a whole day.
Naturally, the feeling passed, leaving behind it a burning, bitter jealousy, which achingly burned through Regulus' heart. Sirius continued to talk about Potter again and again, muttering about some mediocre joke for days and expecting Regulus to piss his pants from laughter. It was always Oh, James would love this! or He's so funny, Reggie, he should tell jokes for a living! or the inevitable It's like I found my other half!
I am your other half, dimwit! Regulus wanted to shout. He was Sirius' blood, his brother, yet he still felt inferior to Potter, even though he didn't even know him. He was sure that Sirius never spoke about him in that way; why would he? Regulus wasn't funny or brave or mischievous, as Sirius described his new best friend to be. He was just—well, he was just Regulus.
The summer before his first year at Hogwarts was a nightmare. At some point he started waking up before sunrise so he could lock himself into the library with the excuse of studying; a desperate attempt at avoiding Sirius' rambling. Sometimes he even missed dinner, usually on the days he knew he would snap if his brother would say just a single word about Potter. It was unbearable and he found himself wishing fall would come sooner. Maybe Sirius would stop being so smitten about his other half once they met again.
He was right, although his satisfaction came with a price. While Sirius stopped speaking, Potter took his place and somehow managed to chatter even more than his brother. Absent-mindedly, Regulus wondered if he would ultimately pass out from lack of air. He wished he would, because he got it. He understood why Sirius loved him so much.
James Potter was the sun, shining brightly, shamelessly, carelessly becoming the center of everyone's attention. He was younger than Regulus by a few months, yet he still made him feel small, unguarded, as if Potter would be able to strip him of all of his shields, lay him bare and study him meticulously, like you would do with a piece of jewelry that could be made of gold but you're not sure yet. Regulus loathed it. Mentally, he was screaming at Potter to stop looking at me like that! It felt embarrassingly revealing and Regulus was a particularly secretive person, which wasn't hard to believe, since his parents were manipulative sociopaths.
He wanted to strangle him. He wanted to cry after realizing that he couldn't blame his brother for replacing him with such a captivating guy. He wanted to stuff every last bit of bitterness very deep into his soul and never allow it to resurface again. Most importantly, he wanted to get out of there.
He excused himself, muttering something about looking for the bathroom, and left, searching for a less crowded place where he would be able to compose himself a bit. When he found an empty compartment he sat down, only getting to count to five in his head before the door opened again, revealing none other than Regulus' main problem.
"Hi," Potter mumbled, taking a seat next to him, as if he was encouraged to do so. Regulus had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He didn't answer. Screw him.
"I, um—I thought I should talk to you about Sirius, "Regulus' head snapped toward Potter, an unspoken question in his eyes. "He doesn't know I'm here, though. I didn't tell him. I don't want him to know about this because I think it would make you uncomfortable and that's the last thing I want to do," he continued, stumbling over his own words. Regulus frowned, not being able to picture what he needed to say. How could it be bad enough that he didn't tell Sirius first?
"Sirius is, uh, dense, sometimes."
You're telling me.
"And the fact that he's dense is entertaining usually, but he has some bad moments too. Like, he was so focused on complimenting Minnie's hat that he accidentally told her it was perfect for her triangular-shaped head. He didn't mean to say it, that's just how he is."
"I know what level of density my brother can reach. Is there a reason why you're telling me this, or are you just bored?"Regulus sighed.
"There is. So, because Sirius is very unaware of what he says or does, he doesn't understand when he hurts someone if said person doesn't tell him directly. Usually, it results in fights and arguments and it's not pretty at all, honestly. He told me you've started avoiding him because he was talking so much about me, assuming it's because you somehow developed a crush on me,"Regulus scoffed, ready to defend himself with his whole life. Potter interrupted him. "Don't worry, I'm aware it's not true. Merlin, you're starting your first year at Hogwarts, I'm positive that boys or girls don't really occupy your mind that much. But I know there's a reason why you avoided Sirius."
"Why I avoided Sirius is none of your business, Potter.''Regulus huffed with arguably less bite into his words. He hated to admit that he was impressed by the level of maturity of the other. He would have never expected to have such a conversation with the same James Potter who didn't know the difference between Amortentia and Veritaserum.
"I think it is. You're jealous of me, aren't you? You think Sirius replaced you with me."Regulus scowled at that, too, rolling his eyes. Of fucking course.
"What do you want? Why are you here?" he snapped, turning his body enough to face Potter, defensively crossing his arms over his chest.
"Because I don't want you to feel replaced by me. I'm sorry if I come off as pushy, I don't want to make you feel weird, but I know Sirius is too clueless to realize what he's doing. He doesn't know you feel like this. But, Regulus, he talks about you too. A lot."
"I don't believe you," he muttered, frowning. What was he trying to do? Defend Sirius' stupidity?
"I have proof," he pulled an envelope from his robes, offering it to Regulus, who opened it suspiciously. It contained a four-page letter about…him?
"Sirius sent me this right on the night we arrived home. All four pages are about you. He's telling me how much he missed his brother, half of his heart, how he's devastated by the fact that you seem to have grown up in his absence, how he had to try harder than ever to hold his tears when you hugged him—it's beautiful. His love for you makes me want a sibling, but my poor parents could never handle another James. I almost cried when I read it. And even before the letter, he always talked about you at Hogwarts—that's how we got to know each other, actually. I sneaked into the Astronomy Tower to stargaze and he was there, talking to you. Or, rather, with your star. I sat with him and he told me all about you. He was so happy he could finally talk about his brother with someone." he explained, with nothing but honesty on his face. Regulus watched him in wonder.
What the fuck.
His eyes trailed over the cursive letters decorating four whole pages of parchment. I must admit, James, that I am glad to be back home. I missed Reggie terribly and being reunited with my brother might be even better than going to Hogwarts. He gulped, blinking harshly. He refused to cry. Reggie seems more grown up, even though we're literally twins and we look the same. He got a haircut recently, I believe. Now his hair is slightly shorter than mine. He doesn't seem unhappy, thankfully. I don't know what I'd do if I found out that half of my heart was suffering while I wasn't there for him. I'm exhilarated at the thought that he'll join me this year at school. I think he'll be sorted into Slytherin or Ravenclaw. Either way, I'm eternally proud of him. I can't wait to introduce him to all of our friends so I can brag about having the coolest brother ever. Did I ever tell you how cool he is, James? He can already cast dozens of spells and he's very passionate about potions. Plus, he writes such beautiful poetry, I'm sure you'd cry if he allowed you to read it. And he's funny, too. Honestly, Hogwarts is lucky to have him as a student. I'm sure Minnie will love him.
"Did he—he thinks I'm funny?Me?" was all he could manage to say. His voice cracked, though he couldn't bother to be embarrassed about that. Plus, he was sure that Potter knew he'd get hexed if he ever spoke a word about this.
"Yeah, he does. He loves you infinitely, Regulus. I'm his friend, of course he likes me, but you? You're his brother, his blood, and I truly hope you'll never doubt your place in his life. No one will ever be more important than you to him. He's just…well, he's just dumb, really. But he adores you and I'm sure you do too. Don't allow this invisible line you've put between the two of you to ruin your relationship with him, okay? You'd both be devastated."
Maybe I don't want to kill him anymore.
Not even two minutes later, they were back in their compartment, where Sirius was talking to Remus while Peter slept as if he didn't have a care in the world. He probably didn't, they were twelve, after all. He smiled at him and James when he saw them, pausing to ask if everything was alright. They both nodded, sitting down quietly so they wouldn't disturb Peter. Regulus looked at Sirius, then at James, sighing slightly.
"Sirius, switch places with me," he whispered, gesturing to where he was sitting. His brother raised an eyebrow, complying silently. With him in the middle, Regulus pinned James with an expectant glare, cocking his head to the empty space on Sirius' left.
With them on either side of Sirius, Regulus finally felt at peace. Suddenly he didn't have the urge to fight for his brother's attention anymore, now that he knew he had it. He was even willing to share.
He let his head fall onto Sirius' shoulder, allowing himself to show a bit of clinginess after he ignored him for almost three months. By the way the other leaned against him, he knew he appreciated it.
He caught a glimpse of the stupidly bright smile James threw over Sirius' head in his direction, returning it with a barely—there twitch of his lips. It was enough for the other, whose grin widened even more before he returned his attention to Remus and their hushed conversation. Regulus sighed again, making himself comfortable, his eyes dropping.
He's safe for now.
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Regulus was mad.
That was an understatement, really, but he had no words to describe the fury he was feeling and that was worrying, because Regulus was an expert at composing long, descriptive monologues about what was going on inside his head ever since he was nine, a result of his parents' obsession with coercing too much knowledge into his head. He could curse people in five different languages without needing to pause for a breath.
Even so, he couldn't express the way he felt at that exact moment.
You see, Regulus wasn't a confrontational kind of person. He was extremely avoidant, usually allowing people to get away with hushed conversations about him when they thought he couldn't hear them. He never said anything when Severus Snape was whispering with Cornelius Avery about how pathetic he considered Regulus to be for refusing their so-called friendship. And frankly, it wasn't something that angered him at all, especially since he didn't really find in himself the will to join their little gossiping club, which consisted of bullying helpless students and throwing around the word mudblood as if it was a prayer. Regulus wasn't nice and he never intended to be nice—leave it to his stupid, Gryffindor brother—but he also wasn't foolish enough to pick on other people solely for their upbringing. He found it distasteful and pitiful, and he knew Severus and his loyal companions were even more pitiful for finding joy in something so cruel. Regulus couldn't imagine how much of a messed up son of a bitch could someone be to feel good about being racist. It wasn't his thing, you see, and he couldn't open his mouth when it came to talking about weird families, since he was a product of incest and all. His brother, twin, was also his cousin.
So, no, confrontation was never his thing— he was sure that it would never be. His mother's special punishments made sure of it, along with his father's excruciating long talks about pureblood supremacy and stupid blood traitors. Regulus couldn't figure out why they thought a five-year-old—because he was five when he first started giving him speeches—would be interested in hearing about bloodlines and posh maniacs who considered themselves superior for marrying their siblings or cousins. Actually, his father did nothing but disgust Regulus, since all that he could think about was his family forcing him to marry Sirius or Bellatrix.
When he ran off to Sirius' room to express his concerns, he laughed, affectionately ruffling his hair, informing him that they would never have to get married because they were both boys and their parents would never sleep well knowing the Blacks didn't have an heir. Although that alarmed him even more after a while, when he realized that meant he could be forced to elope with Bellatrix. Sirius laughed at that, too. Regulus desired to be mad at him, knowing he found his dilemma hilarious. Still, he was just glad he was able to bring a smile to his brother's face.
Of course, that was when they were young, when he and Sirius had a very strong bond, when they were joined at the hip and no one could ever separate them. When everyone knew that if Sirius went, Regulus would be there too.
When Sirius was still home.
His brother running away had an enormous impact on Regulus. It was like his heart had been ripped out of his chest, leaving behind a hole that would never be filled again, no matter how many things he accomplished or how much praise he received from Walburga and Orion. His eyes turned ice-cold, abandoning the small traces of warmth that could be found whenever he was next to Sirius. He became a shell of the person he once was; quieter, duller, invisible. A piece of his soul was taken away from him and it hurt. It hurt, because he couldn't get over it. The part of his brain that was happy for his brother was too little compared to the rage directed toward him for leaving. What angered him the most was that he knew Sirius had to leave. He knew it was inevitable, yet he had hoped, prayed it would go differently. That he would understand him. He couldn't.
He stopped reaching out. Sirius stopped reaching out too, after being threatened with painful stinging hexes if he ever came too close to Regulus again. Their bond shattered inexplicably fast, and no trace of their past closeness was left behind. Regulus was as empty as one could be.
Did that stop him from beating Mulciber until they were both a bloody mess after the prick dared to say something bad about Sirius?
No. Never. Regulus may have said that he hated Sirius, but he didn't hate Sirius. He strongly believed that maybe he would be able to get over his pettiness, in time. Hoped, at least.
Mulciber was the perfect occasion for Regulus to let out all of his negative emotions. He wasn't one to physically fight—dueling was cleaner, more entertaining, graceful. However, his preferences were set aside once the git had the nerve to speak ill of Sirius. His body had been faster than his brain, reacting instantly,then he was punching his fellow classmate as if they were fighting for the air that surrounded them, aiming for blood, broken bones, maybe a lost tooth—whatever it took to feel satisfied. He was stopped by Evan, surprisingly, his friend's worried frown not making any sense until he took a look at Mulciber.
I may have exaggerated a bit, he thought distantly,eying him with distaste. He felt no remorse, even when McGonagall took him to her office and gave him an almost two hour talk about how he should never, under any circumstances, do something like that again and how he was lucky he was such a brilliant student, along with the fact that it was his first strike. The burn was almost insignificant—detention, suspension from the quidditch team for the rest of the year and no trips to Hogsmeade for three months. Minerva McGonagall cared for her students, Regulus included, and she was aware of their family issues, so she avoided punishing him or Sirius severely enough that his parents would have to get involved. Her disappointed face was enough to make them feel bad, anyway. Regulus almost did.
When he got out of her office, the urge to find Mulciber and finish what he started was extremely strong. The hatred he was feeling, wrapped around him tightly, was consuming his thoughts hungrily, encouraging him to do it, to prove that he did inherit the Black madness, that he was as gone as the rest of his fucked up family.
Naturally, bloody James Potter had to stop him.
"Don't look at me like that. Not everyone can be as good as saint James Potter," he muttered coldly, clicking his tongue when James sat next to him on the ground with a somber face.
"I know, I'm sorry, I had to pretend to be mad so Sirius would allow me to tell you to get it together, Regulus, what the fuck were you thinking? He's a hypocrite if you ask me. One of the Gryffindors called you a coward and he threw him off his broom when we were playing quidditch. The fool was so scared that he asked to be transferred to St. Mungo's so Sirius wouldn't have access to him. The Black madness is real, isn't it, Reggie?"James whispered back, his tone almost giddy. Regulus' eyes widened ever so slightly, his frown dissolving, replaced by confusion. He studied James' face closely, looking for any hint of dishonesty, yet he found none.
He was telling the truth. Regulus beat the ever-loving shit out of Mulciber and got detention for the whole year and James found that funny. Merlin, he desperately needed a break.
"Why are you here, James?" he sighed, closing his eyes. He was thankful for the lack of a lecture that he already received from McGonagall and would have received from Sirius if he came to find him instead of James. Sometimes, his brother didn't realize how similar he was to their parents when he was mad. Regulus would never tell him that, though. He couldn't bear the thought of hurting him to that extent, not even after claiming that he didn't care about him anymore.
"Well, I didn't want to let your brother find you because he was fuming and an angry Sirius is quite a lot to handle, I'm sure you know that. Also, I know it's inappropriate and that I should shut my mouth and leave you alone, but I'm so bloody proud of you. Mulciber had it coming, honestly. And you were a marvelous sight for sore eyes.”
"Are you flirting with me right now?"Regulus asked in disbelief, his opened eyes widening. James looked sheepish, if not a little bit embarrassed. His cheeks were slowly coloring into a pale pink, making him look terribly endearing and oh, Regulus will not do that. He will not let his stupid, childish crush on James Potter take over his mind again.
He won't.
"Would you believe me if I said no?" he grinned and it was unapologetic and stupidly beautiful and Regulus was twelve again, trailing after him with heart-shaped eyes and a heart that was beating way too fast into his chest, drinking into every word that spilled from his mouth and begging for more so he could hear his voice again and again and again and then it was the summer after his first year at Hogwarts and he was pressed into James' chest, hugging him impossibly tight, smiling when the other didn't complain, only held him closer, long enough that his smell persisted on Regulus' clothes dizzyingly. He was fourteen again and James was holding him close to himself after a fifth-year Hufflepuff tried to invite him on a date, which Regulus wasn't even able to refuse since James did it for him with a coldness that could freeze water in his voice and he was so happy at the display of protectiveness that he couldn't even speak.
"No." he managed to choke the word out, turning his head. He wasn't twelve, or fourteen. He was sixteen and he hasn't touched James in nearly a year, not since he snapped at him and refused to talk to him for months. He was sixteen and James was right there, open and inviting and so lovely, but still out of reach.
"Fair enough. Anyway, I didn't come here just to praise you and flirt, surprisingly. I, uh, I needed to let you know that you can talk to me. Always. I know you and Sirius aren't close anymore and I wish I could help you somehow, but since I can't, I will at least try to be here for you if he can't. And if you want me to, of course. I'm not—I just don't want you to be alone, you know? I care about you, I always have, and I'm also strongly fond of you ever since we met, so it's not like you would bother me. I'm always here when it comes to you, Reg."James rambled. For a moment, Regulus could pretend that they were back to being close enough that half of Hogwarts assumed they were a couple, to his embarrassment and delight. The moment passed too quickly and Regulus was suddenly highly aware of the cautiousness in James' voice, of his unease, as if he was talking to a wounded animal and he was afraid of scaring or angering it.
It hurt more than he thought it would. He never believed his infatuation with James would last that long—he fell in love with him in his first year, when he didn't even know what love was if it didn't come from his brother, and he was never able to shake off his feelings. The fact that James really was weirdly fond of him wasn't very helpful either. It would have been easier to get over him if he proved to be as glued to Sirius as he thought he was, since Regulus was a bitter little thing, but James stuck with him when they met and never really left him alone. Of course, he and Sirius were still annoyingly close, but the latter was more often with Remus or Peter, while James was always off with Regulus, carrying his books, talking his ears off, bringing him food when he refused to go to dinner because he was too immersed in his book, walking him to class—even if that meant he would be late for his own classes—and most importantly, being incredibly affectionate toward him.
He missed that. He missed James' hugs, the kisses he would gingerly plant on the crown of his head, the hair ruffling, the hand holding—he was obsessed with hand holding—, the way James would always pat his lap as an invite for Regulus to lean his legs against him when they were sitting in the Great Hall or outside, he even missed the way James pinched his cheeks until they were red. He missed the physical touch that he never received from anyone but Sirius, craved it so much that it started eating him alive, pulling his skin apart, setting fire to the rain that was pouring in Regulus' heart and it burned and burned and burned with an intensity that left him breathless. It hurt greatly, yet he itched for it, accepted the pain as long as he could believe that one day, it will all be like before.
Hope was a dangerous thing. Regulus knew that; still, he dared to hope. It was the only thing he had left.
"I know," he spoke, hugging his knees to his chest, refusing to look at James. "I know you are. You're too stubborn to leave me alone."
"That I am, love, that I am. I think everyone here would know who you're referring to if they heard you talking about that stupid, stubborn Gryffindor. It's a very popular nickname."James laughed and Regulus couldn't help it when his lips curled upwards into a hesitant smile. He hugged the sound as he would hug said stupid, stubborn Gryffindor, burying it deep into his brain, a breath of fresh air in the middle of the fire's smoke. For now, his laugh was enough and Regulus could breathe again.
He doesn't know how long they sat there, on the floor of the Astronomy Tower. Maybe minutes, maybe hours or even days. Time always passed in the weirdest blur when he was with James. Only when his eyes were dropping, signaling that his body needed sleep, he sighed, taking out his wand to heal his bruised knuckles. James got the idea, or so he thought, because instead of getting up and walking away, he crawled until he was face to face with Regulus, taking both of his hands in his.
Burns, was his only thought while he watched the possible love of his life touching him for the first time in too many months. When he looked down, his wounds were nowhere to be seen. Arching an eyebrow, he waited expectantly for the other to start talking:
"Wandless magic. My mum tells me I've been doing it since I was little, though I never realized. Apparently, if I practice enough, I can do a lot of spells without my wand." he explained.
The words that's unfairly attractive, you brute were sitting on the very tip of Regulus' tongue, but he swallowed them down, nodding slightly.
He almost flinched when James leaned forward, gently kissing the crown of his head. Tears were already welling in the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill and embarrass him even more than the surprised whine that left his lips at the familiar touch did.
Please leave, please, please, please—
"You're not alone, Reggie. You'll never be alone as long as I'm breathing. Don't forget that, alright?" he whispered, getting up swiftly, leaving the room with careful steps. Regulus cast a muffalo with shaking hands, dropping his wand afterward and finally granting himself permission to break down.
Not even his tears were strong enough to stop the fire.
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Three months after their talk, Regulus was in front of the Potter residence, staring at James through his tear-filled eyes and wishing that he would have reached out sooner. Cursing his name, wishing he'd stayed instead of running away, building barriers between him and the people he wholeheartedly loved and thinking he was doing the right thing.
And James was beautiful, even with the deep frown that took over his face while he ushered Regulus inside. He realized he was shaking. James gripped his arm and he was back at Grimmauld, his mother's sinister scowl etched into his brain. His legs refused to hold him up anymore. He was falling deep into the abyss of his own remorse and misery, flashes of satisfied eyes and cruel, faux laughter filling his head forcefully and he was choking, praying to whoever was up there to give him something, anything to cling to. He couldn't register his own words as they started spilling out from his mouth in a wild frenzy. He hoped James could.
"James, James I'm so sorry, I'm—I didn't want it, I promise I didn't want it, I—" he sobbed, curling into himself, scratching his left arm over the material of the sweater he was wearing. The room seemed to get smaller and smaller, leaving him breathless until James fell to his knees, his gestures frantic:
"Hey, hey, Reg, it's okay. It's okay, love, I believe you. Whatever it is, I believe you. Can I touch you?"
Regulus yearned for him, for his touch, for anything that would bring him comfort. Even so, he shook his head. He couldn't bear the touch of anyone except Sirius, he had to see Sirius, he needed his brother. His brain was all over the place as his body shook like a leaf, teeth chattering. He hated himself for not being able to allow the other to comfort him. James was there, always there, always taking care of him, treating him with the utmost consideration, giving him everything and expecting nothing in return, yet Regulus couldn't even manage to touch him.
She's here she's here she's here she's going to harm me she's going to harm James she's here I'm not safe I'm never safe I'm never—
"Alright, Reggie, I need you to breathe, okay? Can you try that for me, please?" he would try anything for James, so this time he nodded, making himself even smaller while desperately taking big gulps of air. He was suffocating, he was dying, he was sure he was dying and he couldn't do anything about it. Everything hurt, every patch of skin was tender to the touch, littered with various shades of purple and green, making every movement almost impossible. His head was throbbing.
Sirius I want Sirius please please give me my brother, he thought uselessly. Regulus couldn't speak, yet it seemed like James read his mind, muttering the words expecto patronum in a hushed tone. A majestic, quite gigantic stag appeared next to them; Regulus flinched.
"Tell Sirius to come home right now. Alone. It's an emergency." he instructed the patronus. Regulus watched it leave. He was never successful at conjuring one for himself. He used memories that could materialize Sirius' dog or James' stag, but he had yet to learn what his own patronus was.
"Do you need something? Water or—or a blanket? You're shivering. I'll be right back."James babbled, getting up and walking toward the couch that was placed in the middle of the room. He grabbed a red blanket, muttering something under his breath. A glass full of water appeared in his hand immediately. When he got next to Regulus again, he draped the soft material over his shivering body, sitting down again, bringing the glass to his lips. Regulus didn't know how thirsty he was until he drank the whole thing in one go, a few stray drops falling from the corner of his mouth. Only after that he realized that James didn't need to get up to take that blanket. He probably did it to calm his nerves,or maybe he was just disgusted by the state Regulus was in. A pang of guilt exploded in his chest—he definitely was grotesque to look at, with wounds all over his face and body, blood and tear-stained cheeks and blue lips. He was sure that one of the cuts across his temple would leave a scar.
The emerald green of the floo distracted him from his thoughts. He watched, full of fear and guilt as his brother stepped out, looking rather disheveled. Sirius sighed:
"James, if this is one of your cooking emergencies, I swear I'll—"Then he paused, because James moved, revealing Regulus' hunched frame. It took him two seconds to scan him briefly before he was running, rapidly closing the distance between them. Before he knew it, Regulus was engulfed in a bone-crushing hug, his brother wrapping himself around him like a shield. He ended up with his head buried into the space between Sirius' neck and shoulder, one of his arms weakly holding onto the other's clothes. He didn't dare to even think about expressing the pain he was in because of his injuries, not when he knew that Sirius would let go if he said anything. Regulus believed he would shatter to pieces if Sirius pushed him away.
Loud sobs echoed in the room, filling it with desperation and remorse, amplifying when his brother cupped the back of his head, threading his fingers through his hair lightly. Will he ever forgive him?
"I'm so sorry, Sirius, I'm sorry, please fo-forgive me, it wasn't—I never wanted it, I never ever wanted it, it hurt so bad, they—I'm so sorry, please don't hate me, please, I can't—can't be hated by you, please forgive me," he cried, miserably clinging to him, mentally begging him not to go away, no no no don't leave me alone. Thankfully, Sirius only tightened his grip, shaking his head violently:
"It's okay, it's okay, I'm here—oh, my sweet star, I'm here. I could never hate you, I love you more than anything, I love you infinitely, I promise I'm not gonna leave you, I'm here. You have nothing to apologize for, alright? Everything will be okay, I'm not letting anyone hurt you again." he whispered, rocking their bodies together gently. Regulus only wailed louder. How he longed for Sirius. He missed him more than anything, more than anyone. The complexity of their relationship, the way they felt about each other was a curse and a blessing. Regulus could exist without Sirius, but he couldn't live. He was a puppet without his brother there. No one ever understood how dependent Regulus was when it came to him, how without him the concept of being alive was foreign.
"Would you like me to heal your wounds, Reggie?"James interfered, his voice nothing more but the ghost of what it usually was. Regulus turned his head to look at him, studying him closely. He looked sad, panicked, angry, but he didn't seem annoyed by the fact that Regulus was there; he was grateful for that. He had no other place to go if the Potters refused him. Giving him a slight nod, he returned to his place, laying his cheek on Sirius' shoulder while he felt a strong wave of magic surrounding him entirely, healing him. His face stopped hurting, as well as his body, yet his arm was still aching. It would be amazing if he could cut it off.
The next move James made was probably too sudden for Sirius' liking. His brother stuck his back to the wall, pulling Regulus closer to himself in a position that allowed him to cover his body. He looked up at James with a sort of animalistic fierceness, like he was daring him to come forward. His eyebrows were furrowed deeply, watching him warily, with cautiousness and distrust. The face that Sirius made toward his best mate was one that Regulus would have enjoyed when he was eleven or twelve, but now it only confused him.
He's protecting me from James? He thought absentmindedly, looking at him. James raised his arms in surrender, backing away slowly. He stopped when Sirius' frown lessened, not saying a word. His brother relaxed slightly the moment James put enough distance between them, his tight grip loosening a bit, just enough to allow Regulus to breathe. The silence was thick, suffocating, and Regulus was sure he could cut it with a knife if he tried—they both wanted to ask about it. They won't, though, because they cared too much about him to bring up something that could make him have a meltdown again. Regulus appreciated the gesture, even though he knew he had to tell them.
He had to.
"They—they got angry at me," he mumbled, loud enough to be heard. Sirius tensed against him. "I told them I refuse to join that lunatic and his thirst for a world full of purebloods. That it was bullshit, their beliefs were bullshit. I was so mad, they were talking about you, saying all these awful things about you running away, not being a proper heir and choosing to befriend a traitor—I couldn't hold anything in, I couldn't let them talk like that about you and James again. We got into a screaming match and then—then they," he gulped, slowly rolling the sleeve of his sweater until the Dark Mark was revealed, contrasting with his sickly pale skin in that ugliest way there was. It made him look ill. James and Sirius sucked in a sharp breath simultaneously, still not saying any words. "Imperio. And I was stupid enough to believe that I could throw it off since I've already done it so many times, it's not like they haven't used it on me before. But it was stronger than usual. I couldn't. They—we went to him and he marked me. He was smiling. Lucius Malfoy congratulated me on becoming the youngest Death Eater. After that, I threw up until they had to take me back to Grimmauld. Father beat me to a pulp for embarrassing them in front of the mighty Dark Lord. Walburga just used Crucio a few times, I think she was afraid of killing me. Kreacher helped me run away."
Kreacher, loyal Kreacher, the most valuable being in that bloody cursed house, helped him despite knowing that he would get punished severely once his parents found out. Regulus felt sick at the thought. He wanted to go back, to take him and keep him there, where he would be safe and loved, but Kreacher would never agree to that. Regulus could only pray that Walburga would let the poor house elf live. He owed his life to him.
"Those maniacal bastards. Merlin, I'm gonna burn their house to the ground."Sirius hissed, eyeing the Dark Mark hesitantly. Regulus pulled on his sleeve, covering the ugly black snake that was curling itself around his arm. He hated it, he needed it gone, he would do anything to turn back in time and run before his parents had the chance to force him to take it. In moments like these, he hated himself for not listening to James or Sirius, for not running away with his brother, and for not asking them for help earlier. He thought he could do it all alone, but that was foolish and his idiocy hurt him more than he ever thought it would.
James, unlike Sirius, was silent. He was staring at his arm, thought there was nothing to see anymore, and he was disturbingly silent, his face blank. Regulus couldn't blame him, still he wanted him to say something. Anything. He hated it when James wasn't talking.
Please don't hate me please don't hate me please James—
"It's not your fault," he said with certainty, moving his eyes so he could look into Regulus'. Warm brown met sharp silver, full of force in their gaze, which resulted in a shiver taking over his body. "I'm sure you think it is, because you always have the tendency to villainize yourself, just like your brother, but it's not your fault. What they did was cruel and inhumane. You're just a kid, you're only sixteen, they shouldn't have even thought about making you join Voldemort's stupid cult, but forcing you? They're monsters, scum, and they don't deserve you or Sirius. You two are too good to be associated with them. They don't deserve shit and I hope they're going to have the most miserable life from now on, knowing that you're both out of that house, out of their reach and control—and you are. I'm not allowing you to leave, you're staying with us. And, please, Reggie, please believe me when I say that it's not your fault, and I don't see you as any less than a wonderful human who has been through too much, while not deserving any of it. I don't hate you for something that you weren't able to choose and you don't need to ask for forgiveness, ever, from me. I want you to be safe and thriving and you will, even if I have to murder them myself for you to accomplish that."his tone was grave, unusually serious. Regulus chose not to doubt him. James Potter may be the nicest man to ever walk on Earth, but he was still fiery and overprotective, willing to do anything for those who he cared about. The idea of his birth-givers dying was nice, to say the least, though not nice enough to get Regulus to agree to it if James was the one who held the wand. He didn't want to see him in Azkaban.
"I could never hate you, "Sirius whispered after a few seconds of silence, carefully cradling his face between his palms. His eyes were red, glistening with unshed tears. "Never. I would never be able to hate you, even if I wanted. You're my brother, always my brother, and I love you so much it hurts. You're the first person I've ever loved and nothing, no one could take that away, not even you. There is nothing you could do to make me hate you, absolutely nothing. James is right. It's not your fault, it will never be your fault, you're a victim. Only they are to blame. You're still Reggie, nothing has changed, nothing will change, and I will hex anyone who tells you otherwise." he promised, the gentleness in his voice being too much to bear for Regulus' bleeding heart. He nodded, bringing a hand to his face to wipe away his tears messily.
They didn't hate him. He had the Dark Mark, he was considered a Death Eater, something that would make their petty fights seem insignificant, something which clearly said that, theoretically, they were on different sides in the upcoming war. He was classified as a bad guy, as the one who carelessly does the killing for Voldemort. The youngest Death Eater. The words left a sour taste in his mouth—he felt the urge to throw up.
Yet, they didn't hate him. Relief washed over his body in strong waves, taking away all the fear, the worry, and he was so tired that he couldn't manage to care about his head's newfound clarity. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, and Sirius realized it—of course he did—because he urged him to get up, holding him with a hand around his back.
"You need rest. Thinking about what could have been won't help you with anything right now, trust me. Do you want to stay in my room?"Sirius asked, helping him walk to the stairs. James was trailing behind them, carefully keeping a decent distance. The look on his brother's face must have alarmed him more than Regulus thought it did. He choked out a muffled yes. He refused to think about sleeping alone. Sirius was his comfort, his anchor, he couldn't do it without him.
James was also there, though, and memories of them sleeping in the same bed in the Gryffindor Tower after Regulus had a nightmare, refusing to wake up his brother, flashed into his mind. James always welcomed him with small, intimate smiles and safety, holding him close to his chest and playing with his hair until sleep took over him again, never complaining about being woken up. James was the most gentle being Regulus has ever met and he always made him feel secure.
"Could—could you stay with us?Please?"If the situation was any different, Regulus would have punched himself for sounding so needy. It wasn't, though, and the thought of having James in the same room as him already made him feel better.
"Of course. Anything you want," James answered him eagerly, nodding his head. "Would it be easier if Sirius sleeps in the middle?" he continued and Regulus became aware of the fact that he was giving him an out. He knew that he didn't want to be touched by anyone else, so he was giving him the opportunity to stay with both of them without having to feel uncomfortable. It was unfair how good James was. It truly was unjust how he was able to put Regulus' heart back together with the most delicate hands, filling it up with comfort as if it was his own. He always gave so much and received so little in return. Regulus could live a hundred lives and still not deserve James.
A few minutes and thoughtful glances later, he was in Sirius' bed, wrapped around a weirdly heavy maroon blanket. He had his head supported by his brother's arm, staring attentively at the ceiling, which had been charmed to show constellations. Regulus was right above him, shining dazzlingly, more than he would ever be able to. He always found the source of his name ironic, since it was one of the brightest stars in the sky, the heart of the Lion. He wasn't bright, he was dull and gray, lacking anything special to differentiate him from other people. He didn't deserve to be named after such a beautiful star.
The ceiling wasn’t charmed to show the sky, he realized, because Regulus wasn't around at that time of the year, being too close to the Sun to be visible. He also found that fact ironic, though he refused to think about it, refused to believe that if there will be something between him and James, it would end in tragedy. They weren't going to be star-crossed lovers, they were going to grow old, gray and wrinkly together, James with his stupid, unfunny jokes and Regulus with his teasing, usually directed toward Sirius.
Oh, Sirius. His heart healed itself a little at the thought that his brother found comfort in his star while the real, alive Regulus was avoiding him. Maybe someday he'll tell Sirius about the nights he spent at the Astronomy Tower, stargazing for hours, always looking for Canis Major before even sitting down.
Someday.
"I love you, too, Sirius. I hope you know I do," he whispered. Sirius was sleeping soundly, still towering over him, like he wanted to shield him from his own shadow. Regulus wished he could say it when the other was awake, but he didn't quite get there yet. He promised himself he would, though, just not today. There was always a tomorrow.
"And I love you both. Yeah, that's right! The stupid, stubborn Gryffindor loves you, Reggie, there's no escape now!"James' voice, cheerful and fond, settled itself right into Regulus' heart, bringing with it a warmth that was anything but unwelcome. Despite himself, he smiled, reaching out to where James had his hand laying on Sirius' shoulders and delicately linking their pinkies together. The other made no move, yet Regulus could almost feel his grin. It was contagious.
"I know. I suppose I'll accept your love if you insist that much," he whispered, chewing the inside of his cheek. Of course he knew James loved him. It was obvious. Did he love him like Regulus wanted him to? Well, he had no idea, but he was still happy with whatever James offered him.
"Why thank you, your majesty. I'm honored."
Right then and there, pressed against Sirius and holding onto James' finger as if his life depended on that simple touch, Regulus believed that it would be alright. He wasn't alone anymore, after all.
Then, Sirius started snoring and Regulus started hating him again.
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"You know I can hear you breathing, right?"Regulus sighed, not taking his eyes off the piece of parchment he has been scribbling on for too many hours to count. The letters were already starting to swim mockingly in front of his eyes, signaling that maybe, just maybe, he should take a break. His headache was definitely on board with that suggestion, as well as the deep ache of his bones and the loud crack his neck produced once he finally moved it. He knew he would curse himself later for his self torturous tendencies, as he always did. It was, in a way, a ritual. Not one he liked, but still a ritual.
"I will never understand how you manage to do that,"Sirius huffed, revealing himself with a defeated glare. Carelessly, he threw the invisibility cloak on Regulus' bed, mumbling under his breath. Regulus clicked his tongue, momentarily abandoning his work to look at his brother with his eternally arched brow:
"It's the inbred genes,"he explained, deadpan. Secretly, he relished in the snort he received in response. Secretly.
"Of course, I get the good looks and you get the inhumanly good hearing."his brother nodded, biting the inside of his cheek to contain his laughter. Oftenly, Regulus wondered if Sirius was as good at reading his facial expressions as he was. He shrugged:
"Your best friend would kindly disagree with that,"
"That's because you bullied him into falling in love with you,"Sirius chuckled, shaking his head briefly. Some time ago, Regulus would have taken that remark to heart, would have thoroughly believed it and would have been hurt by it. Sirius' opinion regarding his relationship with James was very important to him from the very start. He wasn't shocked when his brother came into his room one night while they were still at the Potters, unbothered and calm, and as if he was talking about the weather, asked:
"Do you love him?"
No, Regulus wasn't shocked by the question, not when he knew how deep into one's soul could a sibling bond reach. Sirius could read him like an open book, could sense his discomfort, his sadness, his happiness, his infatuation, all of it. He wasn't oblivious or dumb. However, he was shocked by his lack of reaction, by the way he seemed to fully accept and acknowledge Regulus' feelings for his best friend without a single complaint. Somehow, Sirius' agreement—or at least resignation—managed to make Regulus both relieved and nervous, since he hid his fear of confessing under the threat of making his brother angry.
"Yes."
"Then love him,"Sirius pinned him with his sharp, bright eyes, which warmed significantly at the sight of him. Regulus was still getting used to receiving his brother's sincere, almost suffocating love again. He felt as if he was being brought back to life in pieces, and then put back together every time Sirius gazed fondly at him, with the particular unconditional love you hold for a sibling, or when he would casually ruffle Regulus' hair and tell him he loves him, with absolutely no effort, like it was as easy as breathing. Maybe it was. Regulus returned the words as many times as he could, which was not a lot, but it still made his brother happy when he did and oh, how he missed making his brother happy.
"Coward."Sirius continued, curling his lips into a teasing grin.
Since that day, Regulus never believed any of Sirius' exaggerated complaints about him and James, because he learned to differentiate harmless teasing from hidden disapproval; albeit the fact that his brother would always watch them with tender eyes and soft, secret smiles whenever he saw them together surely contributed to it. That of course after weeks of agonizing—and unfounded—anxiety, of pacing around his room at night, recalling every single interaction he's had with James since they were twelve in hopes of actually starting to believe that his feelings weren't unrequited. It was stupid, really, because James was so open about what he felt for him that even his parents were encouraging Regulus to confess. It was also stupid because the moment when he eventually had enough and just allowed all of his thoughts to spill relentlessly through a choked up confession, James lit the fuck up in the blink of an eye, shamelessly returning the gesture, admitting to being in love with him for years without an ounce of reluctance. Regulus loved him so much it honestly sickened him.
Sirius interrupted his thoughts with a high pitched sigh, uncharacteristically jumpy:
"Anyway, I actually came here for a reason. As much as I love you—"there it was. As easy as breathing. "—the dungeons aren't built for me. I'm going to freeze my arse off in here,"he sighed, wrapping his arms around himself. Well, in truth, the dungeons really were colder than any other part of Hogwarts—no Slytherin has complained about it yet, though, and he will not be the first. Regulus gave him a questioning look; it was the first Gryffindor party that he skipped since they got back at Hogwarts and something had already happened. He resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall.
"You see, I may have left the drinks unsupervised, which means someone may have charmed them to be a lot stronger than they already were, which means James might be uh, crying his heart out right now because he misses you?"Sirius explained apologetically, scratching the back of his head. Regulus watched him wordlessly, torn between sighing and laughing.
"And I know you're very busy with studying—I am immensely proud of you,by the way—and I'm not, under any circumstance, expecting you to abandon what you're doing, but I also know you would have skinned me alive if I didn't tell you about this and I quite like my skin, so here we are. It's really not that bad, we could just give him a sobering potion or a sleeping draught—"
"Sirius,"Regulus interrupted him with finality in his voice, shaking his head dismissively. "I'm not letting you torture my boyfriend with a sobering potion. Merlin knows how utterly revolting they are."he grimaced, scrunching up his nose at the mere thought of poor James having to drink something so disgusting. With that, he got up, walking to his bed to retrieve the invisibility cloak. He handed it to Sirius and they left the dungeons silently, relieved that the castle was almost empty. Poor Minnie would honestly remain speechless if she knew that even he, the smart, polite, innocent sweetheart of Hogwarts was sneaking around the castle to comfort his boyfriend. Although she must know by now that he and Sirius weren’t twins for no reason. Regulus was just as mischievous, but a lot more quiet about it. That, however, had to remain a secret.
Upon entering the Gryffindor common room, Regulus thought to himself that he’d never seen so many drunk people in his entire life. His brother wasn’t joking about that alcohol. He was glad he chose to skip the party.
That is, of course, until his dear lover decided to get utterly wasted.
James was hunched over the stairs, looking like a little lost puppy, with his crooked glasses and rosy cheeks, and Regulus felt his heart warming up at the sight of him. Somehow along the way, his brother had disappeared, so he approached James with quick steps, too smitten to let the poor guy continue with his suffering. Sometimes he hated the love he held for James, as it made him sappy and gross and immeasurably soft. But then he remembered that the alternative would be a loveless arranged marriage, featuring a blood related woman, and he suddenly was very content with being mushy.
Instead of talking, Regulus reached for his lover’s glasses, adjusting them carefully. James flinched, pushing his hand away and frowning:
“Don’t touch me! I have a very beautiful boyfriend and he will kill you!” he threatened, and Regulus snorted. Leave it to James to be so fiercely loyal even when his sobriety was a long forgotten concept.
“I am your boyfriend, though. I’ve come all this way to comfort you and this is how you treat me?”
Something clicked in James’ head, his poor brain probably getting thoroughly fried, and his lips broke into a smile as he pulled Regulus towards him until he was sitting in his lap. Normally, he wouldn’t have a problem with that, but his boyfriend’s ability to stay relatively put was nonexistent, so he had to offer support for the both of them.
“Hi, Reggie! Hello! I’ve missed you!” James exclaimed cheerfully, his hands wrapping tightly around his torso. How could Regulus be mad at this idiot?
“Seems you’ve had quite the eventful night.”
“I barely drank anything though,” James pouted “And then suddenly the room was spinning and I missed you so much but I couldn’t stand up! So I couldn’t come to you! But I missed you terribly! Isn’t it tragic, Reggie?” he finished with a sigh. Regulus couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yes, love, absolutely tragic. You were very brave. Why don’t we go to your room now, hm?”
Half an hour and lots of cuss words later, they were finally in James’ bed— or, James was, at least, because Regulus was struggling to take off his clothes and replace them with his comfortable pajama pants but his dear, drunk boyfriend wasn’t cooperating much, huffing and puffing for Regulus to join him and leave his pants alone. He couldn’t do that, of course, but leave it to James to behave like and absolute child—a spoiled one, at that. Moments like these made it very obvious that he was an only child.
When he finally joined him, James was half asleep, muttering about how he will undoubtedly fail his Transfiguration test. He reached out for Regulus again, wrapping himself around the older in a very snake-like manner. Regulus raised an eyebrow but chose not to comment on it.
“I’m very sorry if I was a pain in the arse, Reggie. I just missed you a lot. And I love you a lot. I’m very in love with you and I think you’re the best and the smartest and the most beautiful person to ever exist! And it’s not because I’m drunk, I tell you these things daily so you can’t deny anything.” James declared proudly, tightening his hold. Regulus smiled, placing quick kisses on every part of James that he could reach as the other slowly succumbed to his tiredness. When James started snoring, Regulus held him close and whispered an I love you too, closing his eyes and allowing himself a very good night’s sleep.
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Fighting with James was, in Regulus’ humble opinion, one of the worst things that could happen to him. He was able to withstand years upon years of abuse, hell, he even took the Dark Mark, but seeing his lover upset and knowing that it’s his fault was quite literally unbearable. And even though his pride was screaming at him to keep quiet, to leave it be so he wouldn’t have to go through the humiliating process of expressing his feelings, his love for James was much more stronger and it was screaming at him to just talk about it. To make himself feel better, he thought about how communicating with his boyfriend was a big fuck you! to Walburga and Orion, who chose to engage in extramarital, meaningless affairs instead of talking things out. Oh well, they were cousins, after all. Stubbornness runs in the family.
Arguments with James were very rare, surprisingly. Although their personalities were quite different, they almost never clashed, so Regulus didn’t have much experience in mending a relationship. He would try, of course, but he could already feel the ever present doubt seeping into his head.
After a few deep breaths, he got up from his bed, his steps hurried. He already knew where James was, and he had no time to waste.
The walk to the Astrology Tower was, to say the least, soul crushing. For all his pride and snark, Regulus was insanely insecure about fights. Knowing that someone he cared about was mad at him agitated him. His whole body was trembling rather pathetically, but alas, he was too determined to back down. He needed to make it better, and really, it would be a shame to prolong both his suffering and James’, especially since summer was so close and this was James’ last year at Hogwarts. Ironic how his reasoning for trying to make up with his boyfriend was also the reason that they fought in the first place.
As he expected, James was right there. Everything about him was paralleling that night when he came to the Astronomy Tower to comfort him after the fight with Mulciber. Regulus didn’t know how to feel about that and he also didn’t want to find out how he should feel about that.
Cautiously, he sat next to James, mirroring his body position. His lover paid him no mind. Not nice, but understandable.
“I’m sorry, James.” he sighed, not knowing what else to say yet.
“I know.” came a muffled response, almost dismissive.
“Is that enough, though?”
“It has to be. I’m still mad, but I can’t allow your tendency to be avoidant and my mild cluelessness to ruin this for us. We have a few weeks left until I finish school. I don’t want to spend those weeks without you.” James explained, showcasing, once again, his insane level of maturity. Somehow, it made Regulus feel worse.
"I didn't mean it. You have to know that I didn't mean it. It's not true, I would never replace you,I—"
"You still think it's about that?" this time James' voice wasn't dull anymore, it was full of offense. Regulus bit his bottom lip. "Fucking hell. Regulus, you telling me you'll replace me with someone else doesn't hurt me, because it's not true. You would never do that to me. You love me. You love me, because you play with my hair every morning until I wake up, you kiss my forehead when I feel like shit because everyone expects me to be something that I’m not, you indulge me when I ask you to come with me to the kitchens because I have a sweet tooth and I want to confiscate every cake in sight, you hold me as if I'm your whole world, Regulus, and I've never seen such love between anyone besides my parents. You surround me with love every day. I'm unable to ever imagine the fact that you would replace me, not when you look at me like I hung the moon and the stars. No, I'm hurt because you don't trust me. I put my whole heart into the palm of your hand because I trust you to take care of it, I know you will, but you don't think the same and it hurts. I've told you countless times that this is it for me. You are. I've been in love with you since I was twelve and I will be until my last breath, fuck, even in my fucking afterlife, if there’s such a thing, I will love you. Only you. And we could've avoided this if you had told me that you feel like this, that you're insecure, but you didn't and that made me angry. You're still hesitating to communicate with me but it won't work if you don't. As much as I want it to work, it won't. And you're acting like you don't even know me, like you haven't spent a single day with me in the last seven years. I understand your trust issues come from a very justifiable situation and I am not, under any circumstances, blaming you for having feelings, but it pains me that you'd rather avoid me instead of talking to me even after all this time. It feels like you've built a wall between us since we got together and I want to shatter it because I miss you. I miss you fiercely and I wish I could do something to stop making you believe that you're walking around eggshells with me." James ranted, his words rushed, spilling over as if they were overflowing. Regulus understood him. He knew he was wrong, regretted his words and actions, wanted to make it better. He couldn’t afford to avoid this, so he took a deep breath again and began his own little rant:
"It’s not that I don’t trust you. I promise it’s not that. It’s just–it was easier when we were friends, because I was sure the friendship would never end. And even if it did, it wouldn't have happened in an ugly way and no one would have to blame the other. It's different now. I'm afraid I’ll fuck everything up and then we'll break up and it will be horrible for both of us, for Sirius, for Remus, for Peter, your parents—James, you have to believe me when I tell you that I trust you completely, entirely. I would put my heart, my soul, my life in your hands without thinking twice. But I'm still me and I'm afraid you'll stop wanting to put up with my behavior once you're not forced to spend time with me. We won't have to sit together at lunch after you finish school. We won't have to stay in the same room daily. We won't have to live in the same house either, since you'll be moving out. I'm scared about that. I hate being separated from you. I know, deep down, that my insecurities lack any kind of reason, that I’m being crazy, but I can’t help it. For months now, all I can think about is the fact that you and Sirius are leaving me. Not your fault, obviously, but it will happen. And what if you will find someone easier to love? Someone who doesn’t have a huge emotional baggage, who can communicate properly, who can make you feel more loved than I can? I would never be able to live in a world where you’ve not mine to love. It would ruin me beyond any repair. I can’t even handle the thought that it might happen.”
“Reg, what the bloody hell are you saying? How could I–“ James scoffed, shaking his head. He turned around, fully facing Regulus now. “How could I love someone else? How could I ever look into another person’s eyes and tell them I love them without pretending that it’s you? This is–I can’t believe you could even consider me falling out of love with you a possibility. Have I not made myself clear enough? I am ruined for anybody else. I love you so much that it physically hurts sometimes, my body is not big enough to withstand every feeling that I have for you. I have been devoted to you since I was twelve years old, and that never changed and it will never change! I’ve decided that I’m yours to have a long time ago. And who said you’re not easy to love? Loving you is as easy as breathing. I don’t even remember how my life was before I started loving you, but I bet it was boring and miserable.”
At this point, both of them had tears in their eyes and James’ voice was starting to tremble, but he still continued:
“I was made for loving you, Reggie. I was put in this world to have you, to cherish you, to adore you. There’s nothing that could change this. No one could ever come close to making me feel the things you make me feel. And even if I were stupid enough to try to end things with you, which I would never do, Sirius would have my head on a plate, you know that, right?”he scoffed again, this time giving Regulus a shaky grin.
“I do know that.” Regulus nodded with a wobbly smile. It always came down to Sirius. He was like a divine force that connected everyone together. They are meant to be together, he said, and so they shall be. For the millionth time, Regulus’ heart was close to bursting from the love he felt for his brother. His dear brother, his anchor, his best friend. What would he do without him?
“I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t trust you. I do, truly, but old habits die hard and I have serious abandonment issues, as you can probably tell. But I love you as much as you love me and I hope you’ll never doubt that. You are the love of my life, James.” his voice was steadier now and he was thankful for it, because his words held nothing but honesty in them. He was, undoubtedly, ruined for anyone else too. It was either James or…well, James. He stopped trying to consider the other option.
“Alright, so we love each other to death, we will get married and have a big house with a white picket fence and all that. Deal?”James extended his hand, looking into his lover’s eyes. Regulus could read his every emotion and it made him feel less naked, less vulnerable. James was giving him as much as he was giving to James. He shook his hand solemnly, giving him another smile.
How incredibly lucky he was. He wondered if maybe his past life was full of tragedy and sorrow, if he maybe died drowning or something and the universe took pity on him and gave him another chance in this life.
He’ll never know. One thing he did know was that he’ll do everything in his power to cherish the life he created for himself, for as long as he’ll be allowed to do so.
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“Sirius, if you don’t stop harassing me, I will tell James.” Regulus threatened, his eyes narrowed, lips pulled into a pout. Sirius paid him no attention, continuing to go through the boxes that were filled with their old things from the Manor. He was probably trying to find other embarrassing things to continue tormenting Regulus, an activity he found too much enjoyment in. His old poems, really old poems, the embarrassing ones, were his brother’s first victims. Truthfully, Regulus wasn’t nearly as ashamed as he pretended to be about them. At the time, they were his only way of expressing his emotions without being found out, thanks to the crypting language he was using. Most of them were about how he wished he could be free of all the responsibilities lying on his shoulders, but some of them were about James. Those he was not embarrassed about in the slightest. They were his proof that his love for James ran deep, so deep that it has settled into his bones, becoming a part of him. He couldn’t really figure out where he ended and where James began anymore. Some would think that it’s too much, but Regulus felt an immeasurable amount of contempt when he thought about it.
Truthfully, he thought he’d be sadder about it all. Walburga and Orion finally died. They found out about it a few days after, when Kreacher contacted him. He expected one or two tears, maybe a shadow of remorse at the fact that he hasn’t seen them since before their hair turned gray. But all he could feel was indifference. Maybe eighteen year old Regulus would have felt differently, but he was much older now, and he’s had more than enough time to make peace with the fact that he became an orphan ever since the day he ran away too. The news didn’t make him feel sad nor happy. He didn’t know whether to be glad about it or not, so he just didn’t think about it that much. Their death didn’t change anything besides the fact that now, he and his brother were free to visit the manor as much as they wanted, though that wasn’t very often. They had their good memories in it, but they were drastically overshadowed by the bad ones. Sirius didn’t even stay in there for ten full minutes before he bolted, shivering, swearing that he could still feel their eyes on him.
The only thing that mattered to him was that he finally got all his stuff back. His poems, his clothes, his little trinkets, everything that Sirius made for him. He didn’t necessarily need them, but getting them back gave him a feeling of peace, maybe even a bit of triumph. His parents died alone, miserable and full of hatred. He will never have that fate. He is free to love and be loved until his time comes.
“Ha! I forgot how awfully smitten you were with James in your first year, Reggie! This is gold, you need to see this, Moony!” Sirius laughed, pulling Regulus out of his thoughts. He rolled his eyes, throwing an old book toward his brother, who, of course, ducked. He put down a box full of his old clothes, making his way into the living room, where James sat on a red leather couch, reading the newspaper. The domesticity of it all filled Regulus with happiness.
“James! My stupid brother-cousin is making fun of me!”he complained, jutting out his bottom lip. James put the newspaper down, a pitiful smile taking over his face. He extended his arms and Regulus wasted no time, draping himself over his husband(husband!) like a little damsel in distress.
“Aw, my poor love. This is unacceptable!” he declared with faux offence, tightening his hold. Regulus laughed, wrapping his hands around James’ neck. Sometimes he wondered how it was possible for a person to be so beautiful. So full of life, so kind, so selfless. How was it possible to be as perfect as James was? He was sure that the Sun was jealous of James’ brightness. Who even needs the Sun when James is right there?
“As my husband, it’s your duty to defend my honor.” Regulus snorted, playing lazily with his partner’s hair. James nodded solemnly, but made no move to get up, which Regulus took no offence to. As much as he’d like his knight in shining armour to defend his honor, he liked having him right there a lot more.
“And how are you on this beautiful evening, love?” James asked, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. It was all so sweet. When did Regulus go from an angsty, lonely teenager to a lovestruck grown man, married, living in a house with a white picket fence with the love of his life? What has he done to deserve this?
“I am perfectly fine, actually, if we ignore the fact that Sirius is making fun of my declarations of love to a certain someone.”
“Oh, and who might that be?
Regulus smiled, James mirrored him, as he always did, and his answer was lost in a kiss worth a thousand words.
Who cares if he deserved any of this? It was his. James was his, this life was his, and he intended to treat it as the sacred present that it was. He had everything he wanted and more, and wasn’t this what he wished for upon the shooting stars when he was younger?
Regulus Potter loved his life. And really, if you were in his place, wouldn’t you feel the same?