Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

James Potter has a sixth sense when it comes to the Black brothers. 

During his first year at Hogwarts, James’ life revolved around taking care of Sirius. He stayed up until sunrise while Sirius talked through his childhood and recounted the horrors he’d endured. He woke up at all hours of the night to comfort Sirius from the nightmares that kept him a prisoner in his own mind. He checked out books from the library and gave them to Sirius so he could unlearn the prejudices drummed into him since he was born. He gave Sirius constant encouragement, compliments, and “I love you”s to rewire his brain and make him believe that he’s worthy of love. Given the amount of abuse Sirius dealt with for 11 years where his inadequacy was screamed from the rooftops no matter what he did, it should have taken years for Sirius to change his mindset. 

James Potter doesn’t settle for years. It took him ten months to help Sirius over the hump of his healing, sending him back to the Blacks for the summer with coping strategies and self-confidence. Although, if James is being honest, he might have done a little too well since Sirius’ head is now so large that he’s genuinely shocked it stays on his neck. Sirius has his moments, and some scars that will never heal, yet the 11-year-old boy he once was is nothing but a distant memory. 

After his second year, James’ life morphed to include both Black brothers. Sirius spent every available (and unavailable) second talking about his little brother. Sometimes he bragged about how smart he is and other times he was cursing his name, but one thing always remained clear: Regulus was in an arguably worse position than Sirius and needed all the help he could get. James was prepared to spend a year, or as long as it took, helping Regulus heal just like he did with Sirius, even borrowing the same books and planning out a schedule for pep talks, but Regulus was unreceptive at best. When Regulus entered their compartment on the Hogwarts Express, he saw James, his jaw dropped, and he refused to say a single word to him. 

This would be a deterrent for most people, but James saw it as encouragement that Regulus really did need the help. He’d never encountered a person that didn’t want to talk to him before. It was intriguing, something snagging deep in James’ chest that he couldn’t put a finger on, but more importantly, it was concerning. Everyone loves James. It’s a universal principle, like how Nifflers enjoy shiny objects and Merpeople speak Mermish. 

Refusing to admit defeat, James spent hours chasing Regulus through the castle desperately trying to get him to open up, but all he got were slammed doors, curses straight to the face, and blank stares. Regulus had seen even more than Sirius, yet he refused to process any of his trauma. Still, James was hyperaware whenever he entered the room, led by the odd tugging sensation in his chest. It was surely no different than the way he kept an eye on Sirius, purely so he would be there the second either of them needed help. 

What else could it possibly be?

James can’t count the number of times he’s intercepted Black family owls. He started the third month of school after Sirius saw the Black crest and had a panic attack in the middle of the Great Hall. James reads the letter first, relays the important parts (minus all the insults and threats), and burns it once he’s finished. When he got an awful incurable rash from a cursed letter after Sirius ran away, James learned to let Moony cast a few revealing spells before touching anything from his family. After a while, it became second nature, merely muscle memory, for James to treat Sirius’ owls as his own. Halfway through Regulus’ fifth year after everything went down, James was prepared to intercept his letters too, but not a single one ever came.

Until today.

The hairs stand up on the back of James’ neck. He stops halfway through untying his copy of The Daily Prophet from his delivery owl’s leg, whipping around so fast his neck screams in protest, and his eyes find the Black family crest immediately. 

The regal owl sours high above the others and swoops down toward Regulus, bringing James’ stomach with it.

Why now? It’s been two months since he left. What do they need from him now?

James gags violently, choking on pain and fear and the horrible gaping hole that’s suddenly opened right where his heart should be.

“Alright there, mate?” Sirius asks, thumping James on the chest, and his touch makes James heave again.

Please no. They’re both stable. They’re both happy. They can’t ruin that now.

“James, what…” Remus asks, trailing off when he spots the owl headed for Regulus. He immediately kicks Sirius under the table, switching tactics as only Moony can. “Oi, Padfoot, did I tell you about the girl that hit on me yesterday?”

Sirius immediately looks away from James, all previous thoughts diverted by Remus’ flawless distraction. Nothing can get Sirius Black’s undivided attention like Remus Lupin. “Who dared?” 

James is moving before he’s even aware that he stood up. He’s walking, running, flying, but some fucking idiot put the Slytherin table all the way on the other wall and he isn’t going to make it in time, he’s too slow pulling his wand to summon the letter-

Regulus carefully opens the envelope with the tip of his wand, rests his elbows on the table so no one sees them shaking, and scans the paper.

For someone that doesn’t know Regulus Black like James Potter does, he remains the pinnacle of stoicism, but James sees his facade slip: the twitch of his left eye, the drop of his lips, the flinch that appears to be no more than a shiver. James blinks and Regulus is on his feet making a swift but casual exit from the Great Hall.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

James holds it together for Regulus, respecting the image he’s desperate to maintain with the rest of the student body, but the second he walks out the doors, James is running as fast as he can.

“Reg?” He yells, sprinting down the corridor. He’s nowhere in sight, but James knows all of Regulus’ hiding spots. 

“Why do you always hide in the fourth closet?” James asks, panting and leaning against the doorframe as he closes the door behind them. 

Regulus rolls his eyes like the answer should be clear. “Because the first is too obvious and anyone looking for me will give up after three.” His eyes dart to a particularly wide scar on his elbow. “Don’t question me, James. I know these things.”

James throws open the door, revealing Regulus hunched on the floor surrounded by mops, arms wrapped around his knees. He jumps at James’ sudden appearance, knocking his head on one of the metal shelves. 

Something’s wrong, something’s wrong, something’s wrong. 

If James is the sun, predictable and constant, then Regulus is the rain. He’s always beautiful, so achingly ethereal you can’t draw your eyes away, but sometimes he’s peaceful and clingy and others he’s dark and distant. James wants nothing more than to pull Regulus into his lap and hold him as close as two bodies can get, but this is when he doesn’t like to be touched. Instead, James sits down opposite him, leaving enough room between them that Regulus won’t feel threatened but not so much that he feels alone. “Hi, love,” James says softly, forcing his voice to be steady, ignoring the pounding, rushing, flooding in his ears. 

Regulus flinches at his voice but tries to play it off, planting a scowl on his face. “You really couldn’t wait to see me until breakfast was over? It’s the weekend, James, we have all the time in the world-”

“What did the letter say?” James asks, cutting him off. This is what Regulus does when he’s hiding something; he rambles to cause a reaction and distract the other person. It’s a tactic he picked up from Sirius, although neither of them will admit it. When used on the right person (usually each other), it’s incredibly effective, but James sees right through it. 

“Letter? What letter? Half the owls didn’t even have time to deliver their mail before you accosted me in this closet and it’s not like I ever get anything anyway-”

James physically twitches, his body itching to touch Regulus’, but he settles for placing his hand flat on the ground in the space between them, an open invitation for Regulus to take when he feels comfortable. “The letter from them. What did it say?”

Regulus remains silent, staring pointedly at the bridge of James’ nose, but his hand creeps toward James’. “Come on, Reg. I know you got something from them.”

Regulus jams his eyes shut and his hand stills in its desperate crawl to James’. “It’s nothing-”

You escaped and you stopped shutting me out. We got past this and now we’re right back to where we started.

“Please, love,” James whispers, his voice shattering somewhere between his throat and his lips.

Regulus holds on for one, two, three before burying his head in his hands, grabbing the roots of his hair and pulling. “This is something I have to handle by myself. I can’t…” Regulus trails off and James watches as he chokes on the end of his sentence, but James knows what he was trying to say.

“I can’t put this on you.”

Regulus Black - desperately needing help, but too afraid to ask because he knows what it's like to carry too much of someone else’s burden.

Fuck you, Walburga. Fuck you, Orion. Even though James hates himself for it, he can’t stop a small part of him from thinking, Fuck you, Sirius. 

“You never have to handle anything by yourself anymore. We’re in this together. What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours. Just tell me what’s going on so I can help you,” James says softly.

“I really don’t want to tell you,” Regulus says, his voice muffled by his palms. 

“I understand, love,” James whispers, and he does. Regulus grew up with only Sirius to confide in and quickly realized that when he told his brother things, Sirius would lash out against his parents and get hurt. It’s only logical that little Reg stopped opening up to anyone, a wall built through years of trauma and torture that teenage Regulus has only broken down in the last few months. James doesn’t care if Regulus has secrets, but he knows anything to do with his parents isn’t something that should be kept to himself. “You’re right; we have the whole weekend together. I’m going to be a right ball ache until you tell me. No more back rubs, no more kisses, no more cuddles-”

Reg laughs softly, the sound making honest to Godric bells go off in James’ head. Oh, he’s gone. He’s so far gone. “You’re insufferable,” Regulus says, finally allowing his hand to touch James’. James laces their fingers together and his heart thrums in delight. 

“No, you love me,” James says, dragging out the o just to make Reg giggle again. He never claimed to not be self-indulgent. Making Regulus Black laugh might be life’s greatest pleasure.

“Against my better judgment. Sometimes I really wonder why.”

“Oh, Mr. Black, don’t you know the heart wants what it wants?” James tugs on Regulus’ hand to encourage him to scoot forward. “It’s uncontrollable, my love. You saw me in that compartment on the Hogwarts Express and your jaw literally dropped even though you were being a little stuck-up prick to your brother. You’ve been hopelessly in love with me since that very minute. You can fight it all you want, but you love me. Your heart chose me, you see. It said, ‘Yes, that one with the sexy glasses and artfully tousled hair and perfectly kissable lips and bulging muscles-’”

“You were 12, James. You didn’t have bulging muscles. You were a little kid with crooked glasses, messy hair that you were too lazy to fix, chapped lips, and shrimpy arms-”

James gasps, clapping a hand over his heart. “You did not just call my arms shrimpy! I’ve never heard any complaints about them from you.” Regulus blushes, coloring spilling around his eyes that he still refuses to open. James moves forward a few centimeters and Regulus opens up for him like the prettiest flower in spring. James snuggles between his legs, burying his head in Reg’s curls and pressing their chests together so their hearts can beat in tandem. “I suppose it’s your lucky day because my heart also chose you, you miserable little shit. That makes us soulmates. You’ll never get rid of me. Never, never, never.” James plants a kiss on a different part of Regulus’ face with each never, reducing Regulus to a giggling, kicking, and blushing mess. James loves every form of Regulus Arcturus Black, but this just might be his favorite: raw, unguarded, and filled with unabashed joy. 

Take life by the horns, my love. Take whatever you want because you deserve it. Take whatever you want from me. I’ll give you anything. I’ll give you everything.

Regulus finally opens his eyes, the pensive, deep gray glistening with tears, which sends a stab of pain straight through James’ heart so viciously that it skips a beat. James kisses the tear stains etched into his flushed cheeks. “If you really don’t want to tell me, I’ll respect that. I know it’s something from your family and I just don’t think locking up anything to do with them is healthy for you.”

Regulus stills and it’s a waiting game while the war rages inside him.

James wants to take it all away, wants to go to war for the boy wrapped in his arms, wants to hurt everyone who made him feel like keeping secrets is the only way people will love him.

As much as James hates it, this is Regulus’ battle, not his, and Regulus needs to fight it himself. James can hold him and love him through it, but Reg has to make the decision in the end.

Eventually, he takes a deep breath, holds James tighter, and says, “They want me to join Voldemort.”

The world James fought so hard to create for himself slips through his fingers and splinters into a million shards at his feet before he even realizes it was unstable. 

“What?”

He left. He escaped them. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I thought I stopped this.

“They said that the Dark Lord requires a school-aged boy of noble birth. My parents offered us. She said-” Regulus pauses, drawing another shaky breath. “She said that it’s either me or Sirius. She sent the letter to me because she knows I’ll have the ‘good sense to do what’s right’, but if I don’t oblige, they’ll use Sirius.”

No, no, no-

What do you do if your life is shattering right before your eyes? If you’re James Potter, you become a Muggle repairman. There’s no time for his own feelings, no time for panic, no time for doubt; only time to become the glue, to desperately hold everything together. “We’ll protect you both. My parents already have charms in place so our house is unplottable and no Black can get in. You’ll both stay there all summer like you were supposed to and then you’ll come back to Hogwarts. Hogwarts is the safest place on Earth. They won’t get either of you.”

Anyone else. Take anyone else.

“You don’t know them like I do, James. They will find a way. Walburga doesn’t back down.”

James shrugs it off. Walburga doesn’t hold a candle to James. She never has, so how could she now? “Then we’ll hire Aurors to guard you! We’ll flee the country!”

“I’m not living the rest of my life in fear.” Regulus’ voice is deadly calm. He’s made his choice and James chokes on the finality and strength in his words.

He knows what Reg is going to say next, but he can’t hear it. “Don’t say it. Don’t say it, Regulus, please.”

Regulus flinches but continues. “It’s going to be me, James. Sirius ran away and that made me the heir. I only prolonged my fate. It was always going to be me.”

You both left - you beautiful, brave boys. You fucking left them for this exact reason. 

“We’ll talk to my parents, Dumbledore, the fucking Minister! We’ll find another way.”

“No,” Regulus whispers. His voice is so strong but so… disconnected. James looks up, looks into the window to his favourite soul, but it’s not there. Regulus Arcturus Black is looking back at him, holding him in his arms, but Reg, Sirius’ Reggie, and James’ love is already gone. “James, I know you have a thing for insurmountable odds, but this is a risk I can’t take. Say you fail. Say they find us anyway. Think about what happens then. I either go easily or they take Sirius …”

Regulus trails off, but his meaning is clear. Sirius could never handle being a Death Eater. It’s why he left in the first place.

James tries to listen to Regulus, tries to think about it, but he can’t. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he can’t. There’s no conceivable future where Sirius becomes a Death Eater. He would never take the mark, wear the mask, attend the meetings. Sirius Black: Death Eater. Two extremes never destined to meet. 

If he was forced to join the Death Eaters, Sirius would be dead in a matter of hours; if not by Voldemort, then by his own hand. 

But Regulus. Just because Sirius can’t handle it doesn’t mean that his brother can. Regulus Black: Death Eater. Opposite ends of a magnet physically repelling each other. He’ll hide behind a front, fake it until his face turns blue, but he’ll be rapidly rotting on the inside, reverting back into the Regulus that called people slurs, stood by his horrible friends, refused to process an emotion... 

——

After the winter holidays, James takes over patrol duties for Remus while he recovers from the full moon. Lily usually winds up finagling the schedule so Remus is off duty during his time of the month, but she’s also in the hospital wing with a nasty flu, so she didn’t get the chance to change it. 

James paces back and forth in front of the third-floor girls bathroom where he’s meant to meet his partner. He didn’t get a chance to actually check the schedule, so he has no idea who he’s patrolling with. Hopefully, it will be an older Gryffindor or even a Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, just not-

Regulus Black walks around the corner and James’ heart sinks to his toes. After what happened to Sirius last year and Regulus’ lack of concern or a reaction in the slightest, James stopped trying to be as friendly, but here they are…

“Oh. It’s you,” Regulus says, sounding about as pleased as James feels. 

“Yeah, Remus had to…” James trails off, trying to remember which excuse they hadn’t used in a while. Visiting his mum? Family emergency? Just plain ill?

Before he can make a decision, Regulus waves his hand noncommittally, cutting James off. “Why didn’t Evans take him off the schedule tonight? She always does that for full moons.”

“Wha-” James asks, stopping his pacing and whirling around to face Regulus. “What the fuck are you talking about?” The only people that know about Remus are their professors out of necessity, James and Sirius because they figured it out at the beginning of second year, Snape due to the prank at the end of fifth year, and Lily since she began hanging out with them after she ditched Snape. No one else knows. No one else can know.

Regulus scoffs, “Oh please. It doesn’t take a genius to notice he’s always ill around the full moons.”

James has forgotten how to breathe and apparently how to speak. “You… you…”

“Pick that jaw up off the floor, Potter. Yes, I know Lupin’s a werewolf-“

James springs forward, clamping a hand over Regulus’ mouth, frantically scanning the hallway to make sure no one overheard. 

Regulus lets out a strangled sound at the touch, stumbling backward into the wall. “Get your hands off of me!” 

James backs up, hands in the air, heart pounding. “Sorry, sorry, just… you can’t go around telling people that. You can’t-“ He’s never performed a memory spell, but he’ll wipe Regulus’ mind right here if he has to. If this gets out, Remus’ entire life that he’s worked so hard to build will fall apart. He can’t let that happen. Not to Moony, not to the person who deserves a fucking dazzling future the most. 

“Yes, Potter, I’m well aware. I’ve known since I was 11 and haven’t spilled the precious secret yet, so don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“I… I…” James stutters, completely unsure how to continue this conversation. He expected fear, confusion, hatred even. Not… indifference. “You don’t… care? You’re not afraid?”

Regulus rolls his eyes so high James is shocked they don’t get lost in his skull. “Well, I have no doubt that you lot have some kind of system in place and it’s been six years without an injury, so whatever you’re doing is clearly working. I have much bigger problems than a werewolf trying to get an education.” With that, Regulus turns on his heel and marches away, leaving James spluttering like a fish out of water. 

He knows and he… doesn’t care? Even Sirius had some werewolf-related prejudice he had to work through when we found out and he was bloody in love with Moony. 

That means he’s not a lost cause like Sirius has written him off to be. He’s not a clone of Walburga. He’s not like them. 

“Are you coming or not, Potter? Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t care less if you join me, but you could at least do me the courtesy of letting me know,” Regulus calls from the end of the corridor where he’s paused, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently. 

“Wha- I- of course I’m coming!” James splutters. 

“Then stop gaping at me like I’m some kind of exotic creature and get a move on! Honestly, if this is how you reacted when you found out about Lupin, I feel bad for the bloke.”

James promptly closes his mouth and chases after the newest star in his orbit. 

For the rest of the patrol, James shoots off random questions at Regulus and is unceremoniously ignored, but his mind is working too fast to care. 

If he’s not like his parents, why didn’t he help Sirius? Why doesn’t he fight back? Why didn’t he leave with his brother?

“Just ask me what you want to ask me, Potter. Stop with these filler questions,” Regulus says suddenly, stopping James in the middle of a rant about tree leaves. 

Well, at least he’s straightforward. 

“Why didn’t you step in? Why didn’t you help Sirius?”

Blood, so much blood, blood pouring from his nose, blood pouring from his fucking ears, blood pouring from his mouth, he’s choking on the blood, he’s barely conscious but he’s choking on the blood, James is sitting him up, slapping him on the back, holding his mouth open with his own fingers so the blood can come out, pool on the floor, why is there blood, what happened, why is there so much blood…

“How do you think Sirius got to your house, Potter?” 

He couldn’t walk, he could barely move, he was convulsing, he just showed up on James’ doorstep leaving him no time for questioning, there was no time, there was blood…

“That’s what I thought.”

He clearly didn’t Floo, he couldn’t have apparated by himself…

Fucking Regulus. 

“How did you do it?” James asks, voice low, incredulous. 

Sirius said you just stood by and watched. Sirius said you brushed it off. Sirius said you told him not to leave. Sirius said you refused to come with him. 

“I got Kreacher to apparate us and then swore him to secrecy.”

This doesn’t make any sense. Regulus was there that night, on James’ doorstep, and then he left? “Why didn’t you stay? Why didn’t you get out too?”

“Someone has to be the heir, Potter, and it’s clear my brother was never up to it.”

“That’s bullshit! They don’t need an heir.”

Regulus stops, glaring up at James. “The oldest family in magic? Sure, we can just fuck off and die, end our bloodline right here. That will go over well.”

“What about Bellatrix, Narcissa, even Andromeda?” The Blacks are a sea of revolting procreation. Someone else has to be able to step up. 

“Don’t be a fool. Andromeda got disowned. Bellatrix and Narcissa are married, but now they carry different last names. Their offspring will technically have our blood, but they won’t be direct continuations of the line, not like our incestual parents. It’s me or him. It’s always been me or him. One escapes and the other stays. Sirius made my choice for me by leaving.”

“That’s absolute bullshit, Reg. You can both get out.”

I can get you both out. 

I’m going to save you too, Regulus Black. Mark my fucking words. 

“Don’t call me Reg. We’re not friends, Potter. Don’t get it twisted.” 

Despite everything, a smile cracks open James’ face, causing Regulus to blink in surprise. “Anything for you, Regulus Arcturus Black.”

“How do you even know my middle na- you know what, I don’t care. In fact, don’t call me anything at all,” Regulus storms away, clearly expecting this to be their last patrol. 

However, since the Death Eaters kill Lily’s parents the next week and Moony suffers an injury to his hip that makes patrolling impossible, Regulus and James find themselves spending most of their evenings together. 

James, the fire relit beneath him like flames under a cauldron, constantly peppers Regulus with random statements, hoping one sticks. They just need to have a few simple conversations over matters not as serious as their fucked up family. He just needs Regulus to trust him.

He’s James Potter. Everyone trusts him, especially now that he’s not an arrogant 15-year-old. Random students who James hasn’t ever spoken a word to trust him, but the one person who matters won’t.

It weighs on James while he's sitting in class, while he’s brushing his teeth, while he’s eating toast, while he’s falling asleep.

Why won’t he trust me?

One day, James cracks and just asks Regulus, “Why don’t you trust me?”

Regulus snorts, “Of course you would worry about that. I don’t trust anyone, Potter, don’t take it personally.”

James crosses his arms and smirks. Regulus has never answered one of his questions without snark. It’s oddly endearing and makes the thing in his chest hum. “I don’t know if I should be offended by that.”

“Please do. I mean full offense whenever I say anything.”

James can’t help it. He snorts. How did he never see how fucking funny Regulus is? “Is that just for me or for everyone?”

“It’s for everyone, but especially you.”

“You’re so mean, did you know that?” James asks, but his smile is so wide that his cheeks hurt. 

“Yes, that was the intention, Potter.”

They can have conversations like this, exchanging sarcastic quips, and James should just leave it alone. He should be happy with their banter, but James always winds up pushing too far. He never knows what will trigger Regulus, causing him to draw back into his shell. There’s just something about Regulus that makes James want to know more. Something, anything, everything. “ Why though?”

Regulus bristles like an angry cat. James winces. Fuck. Too far once again. “My personality is not up for psychoanalyzation by you.”

James waves his hands, desperately trying to backpedal. “No, that’s not what I-”

“I think that’s enough patrolling for the night,” Regulus says, cutting James off and disappearing into the darkness.

If Regulus refuses to trust him, then James is just going to have to earn his trust.

He listens to the few small bits of personal information that Regulus divulges and clings to them. James makes a special order for a fancy quill after Regulus complains about his breaking. James buys ten packs of Cauldron Cakes from Honeyduke’s when he learns they’re Regulus’ favorite sweet. James brings him dinner on their patrol nights since Regulus has no time after his class. James sweet talks the house elves into serving Regulus’ favorite breakfast sausages again. He lets Regulus lead the conversations and bites his tongue when he feels the itch to press him.

There are many differences between the Black brothers, but this is one of the most prominent. Sirius acts like he doesn’t want to talk about his problems, yet he’s just waiting for you to show a genuine interest and then he’ll spill his heart. Regulus acts like he doesn’t want to talk about his problems and he means it.

Slowly but surely, James can see Regulus’ walls coming down. He tells James more and reacts less severely when he accidentally pushes too far. He never gets less mean, but James finds himself looking forward to Regulus’ rude comments. There’s something… alluring about them that James can’t quite put his finger on.

Then again, there’s something alluring about Regulus in general. 

“Here you are, Mr. Black,” James says, whipping a plate of dinner out from behind his back when Regulus finally joins him in their meeting place. 

“Did you steal a plate from the Great Hall?” Regulus asks, staring at the china in James’ hands.

“It’s shepherd’s pie, how else was I supposed to transport it? Stuff it in a napkin?”

“You don’t have to get me anything, Potter.”

“Nonsense. You need to eat.” James braces himself, waiting to see if Regulus will snap at the implication that James genuinely cares about his health. 

Instead, Regulus just smiles James’ favorite smile, the bashful blush that lights up his whole face. James beams back, jumping at the spark of electricity that passes between their hands when Regulus takes his dinner. “There you are, sir. Anything else I can do for you?” James often finds himself asking Regulus open-ended questions like this, welcoming the snarky remarks that spread warmth right behind his navel. 

Regulus doesn’t respond, just blinks down at his shepherd’s pie. “Regulus?”

He blinks, yawning. “Sorry, didn’t sleep well last night.”

James bites back the questions running through his mind. Why didn’t you sleep? What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Are you okay? Do you need help? Instead, he says, “Go sleep. I’ll handle this patrol by myself.”

Regulus waves him off. “No, I’m fine.”

After a few more minutes, it becomes clear that Regulus is dead on his feet. The plate keeps slipping from his hands, he keeps stumbling over his own shoes, and he keeps knocking into the walls. At this rate, he’s going to give himself a concussion or break a bone. 

“Okay, we’re done,” James declares, catching Regulus in his arms after he pitches forward into a protruding classroom door. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Regulus complains, but he doesn’t fight back, simply allowing himself to be led. 

James is acutely aware of the places where their skin meets and the feeling of Regulus’ body in his arms. He isn’t sure why, but it feels important, monumental . This moment should be written in the history books somewhere: The Day Regulus and James Touched. It should be a national holiday. There should be fireworks.

“Shh,” James says, and in one quick motion, he scoops Regulus bridal style into his arms and sprints up the steps.

This wakes Regulus right up. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m getting you up these stairs. Stop questioning me,” James huffs. He’s already climbed the steps, but he carries Regulus over to the edge of the Astronomy Tower where the stars are beginning to sparkle.

“What happened to patrolling?” Regulus asks, rolling out of James’ arms to sit beside him.

“Oh please. You getting a bit of rest is far more important than catching someone out past curfew.”

Regulus is silent for a moment, staring up at the budding stars. “Thank you,” He says quietly, the words sounding foreign in his voice.

James feels something inside of him melt. “There’s nothing to thank me for, Regulus.”

“Yes, there is,” He says, but he doesn’t elaborate, and James doesn’t push him. He wants to know, wants to know so badly he’s twitching, so he chomps down on his tongue, forcing himself to swallow the words. 

When Regulus reaches for his plate, James whips out his wand and casts a quick warming spell. “Sorry. I’m not the best at those, but it should be better than eating it cold. If it’s not warm enough, I’ll cast another one.”

Regulus jams his eyes closed and releases a shaky breath. “You don’t have to do all of this for me.”

“All of what?”

“This,” Regulus says, gesturing around them. “You don’t have to do any of this for me, James.”

“Of course I do. You’re a person, Regulus. You deserve it just as much as anyone else-”

James isn’t sure if he would have continued his sentence, but he doesn’t get the chance to as Regulus’ lips are suddenly on his and James isn’t thinking much at all.

He’s kissed girls. None of them seriously, but he’s kissed them. He’s imagined kissing Lily about a thousand times until he realized maybe he doesn’t have to same taste as he did when he was 11. He’s been attracted to girls, he’s kissed them, and he’s enjoyed it.

But those experiences don’t even hold a candle to how James feels kissing Regulus.

Godric, he’s such a fool. How did he not know he wanted this? The animal magnetism toward Regulus? The desperate desire to know everything about him? The sparks when they touched? The tugging sensation in his chest? The urge to take care of his every need? It runs deeper than just wanting to help Regulus. It runs as deep as it can go and then deeper still. 

It’s flying and falling. How has he survived without this for his whole life? Now that he knows how it feels, how is he supposed to stop? Surely there are things he’s supposed to be doing, but they’re suddenly completely insignificant. The rest of the world can wait, perhaps forever. Nothing will ever be as important as this, as keeping Regulus’ mouth on his. 

James leans forward, pushing Regulus onto his back, and promptly puts his hand directly in the shepherd’s pie. He yelps at the sudden heat, scrubbing his hand on his pants and swearing, causing Regulus to dissolve into laughter. James would join him as the situation really is rather hilarious, but he’s entirely absorbed in the way the moonlight catches Regulus’ jaw, illuminating the sharp corners and the vein throbbing in his neck. James is suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to kiss it, so he does. He tackles Regulus and plants kisses all over his face, causing Regulus to squirm and howl with laughter. 

“Stop… can’t… breathe…” He wheezes, pushing at James’ chest. James pulls back, propping his chin on his fist so he can watch Regulus. This makes Regulus blush, throwing his arms up over his face. “No. Stop perceiving me. I’m embarrassed.”

“Why would you be embarrassed?” James asks, leaning in closer. It’s like the kiss ignited some kind of hidden desire within him. He could be on top of Regulus, wearing his skin, and it wouldn’t be close enough. 

“I just… kissed you. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have stopped-”

“Regulus,” James says gently, cutting off his spiral. “Does it look like I didn’t enjoy that?”

“Well, no…”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Obviously I enjoyed it, James.”

“Hey, that’s the second time you’ve called me James!” He says, throwing himself on top of Regulus and wrestling his arms away from his eyes. 

“Oh, for Godric’s sake!” Regulus huffs, jamming his eyes closed. 

James plants his chin on Regulus’ chest, grinning like a fool. The kiss stopped and he’s still on top of the world. He’s flying with the birds. He’s living in the clouds. “Have I been promoted? Does that mean you care about me?”

“Don’t push it, Potter,” Regulus says, causing James to pout. Regulus snorts, slapping his cheek lightly. “Stop that. You’re prettier when you smile.”

“Oh, so you admit I’m pretty?” Whoever said love feels like butterflies never experienced this kind of love because a herd of Hippogriffs are currently stampeding through James’ chest. This isn’t cute or gentle or sweet; it’s fiery and strong and all-consuming. 

“I refuse to raise your ego by answering that.”

“Mm, sure,” James hums, resting his head against Regulus’ chest. 

They fall into comfortable silence as James focuses on Regulus’ heart beating right under his ear. His head rises and falls with each of Regulus’ breaths, a sensation so intimate that James shivers. James holds his breath and tries to synch his breathing with Regulus’, desperate to be as aligned with him as possible, but he breathes so fucking slowly that James becomes starved for oxygen and chokes. 

Regulus bursts out laughing as James coughs, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Merlin, you are a child. A literal baby.”

“I’m your baby,” James whispers and Regulus stills beneath him, causing the bottom of James’ stomach to fall out. Fuck. “Is that okay? Is that something we can be? Each other’s baby?”

Please don’t be too far. Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up already.

“James, we’ve kissed once.”

Is that an issue? Is there some kind of unwritten rule that you have to kiss more than once to be in a relationship? Maybe it actually is written somewhere. It’s not like James would know. 

James raises himself off of Regulus’ chest, brackets his arms on either side of Regulus’ head, and drinks in the way Regulus’ breath catches and his mouth falls open in anticipation. James grins and leans down, but Regulus surges up and crashes their lips together before he can.

Their first kiss was exploratory, sweet, and a little clunky. Now, their teeth click together, but neither of them cares. They know how perfect, how right this feels, and there’s no room for awkwardness. James already knows exactly what spot of Regulus’ face to hold, exactly what to do with his tongue that makes him moan, exactly when to pull away and make Regulus close the gap between them once more. Is it normal to know that after just one kiss? Is it normal to be so attuned to someone’s body already?

Regulus lets out a soft whine and pulls James down so he’s lying entirely on top of Regulus. Their chins clash together and James pulls away, smiling at Regulus’ swollen lips. “How about two kisses?”

Regulus takes James’ face in one hand, mashing his cheeks together. “Not enough evidence yet.”

“Oh yeah? Whatever could I do about that?” James asks. 

The two boys take a moment in time to simply grin at each other like the fools they are before they’re kissing again, only to stop when sleep finally overtakes them. 

The next few weeks are the best of James’ life. He’s always been a happy person, much preferring to view the positives of life rather than the negatives. He has wonderful parents and the best friends he could ever ask for, but James wasn’t aware that there was a gaping hole in his life until he started dating Regulus. Regulus has made James into so many things that he’s never been before. He’s never been the kind of person who always needs a relationship, more than happy to give his love to his friends and family, but now that Regulus has entered the picture, James simply must be near him and smothering him with love at all times. He misses Regulus when he’s gone and he even misses Regulus when together because he knows he’ll have to leave again. Are there spells to fuse someone’s body to your own? If there aren’t, James is going to invent them so he and Regulus never have to be separated. 

As the Easter holidays approach, Regulus starts pulling away. The corners of his smile turn down, his eyes lack their magical sparkle, and his voice is flat. He’s staring at James but not seeing him, touching James but not feeling him, hearing James but not listening to him. James is looking at Regulus, holding him in his arms, but Regulus is in another world.

“Love?” James whispers, running a finger down Regulus’ cheek. They’re lying shoulder to shoulder, but Regulus hasn’t said anything in an hour, just staring unblinkingly at the stars.

“Hm?” Regulus grunts, flinching like his soul just reentered his body. His eyes snap back into focus, taking in the scene around him.

“There you are. You slipped away for a while,” James says, now tracing Regulus’ jawline. He’s got the facial structure of a Greek god and it’s a crime to not worship it. 

“I’m right here, James,” Regulus says, shrugging him off and going back into his trance. Bile rises in James’ throat, but he forces himself to swallow it.

No, no, no-

They can’t end this quickly. They can’t. They have so much more to do together.

They’re barely been together for a month, but they have a whole lifetime together ahead of them. James can see it. He can see the cottage they’ll share, the kids they’ll raise, the garden they’ll watch the stars in. They’re made for each other. Regulus saw it before James did, so why doesn’t he see it anymore?

I’m never enough. No matter what I do, I’m never enough.

“You can talk to me, Regulus. Please talk to me.” 

Everyone loves James, but he always loves them just a little bit more. He’s never quite enough; there’s always someone else that can give them more than James can. It’s not healthy, but why can’t James just be enough for people by himself? He has so much love to give. Why can’t that be enough? 

“Is this about me? Is there something I’m doing wrong?” James doesn’t know how to be a good boyfriend. He’s had girlfriends before, most of them when he was very little, and they’ve never been serious, they’ve never been like this , like James is walking around with his heart beating outside his body. He can’t lose Regulus. He doesn’t know how to lose someone that he loves, and Godric, he loves Regulus so much it consumes him. 

At his question, Regulus immediately softens, rolling over to face James. “No, this has nothing to do with you.” He reaches out, cupping James’ face in his hands like he’s a delicate sculpture. “You’re perfect. You always have been.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Regulus squeezes his eyes shut, taking a shaky breath in. “Just… my parents.”

James’ whole body deflates as the tension he didn’t even know he was carrying seeps out of him. Regulus’ behavior the last week finally clicks into place. “You’re worried about going home for the holidays?”

Regulus nods, biting his lip so hard James can see the skin turning white. He gently slides his thumb across Regulus’ lip, pulling it out from his teeth. “You don’t have to go back there. You can come stay with me. Forever, if you want. My parents would love it. They would love you.”

“What would Sirius think about that?” Regulus snaps.

The relationship between the Black brothers is complicated: civil at best and catastrophic at worst. It ebbs and flows, but right now, they’re at the lowest point James has ever seen. Sirius is furious with Regulus for not stopping their parents and leaving with him, so much so that he won’t even look at his brother. It’s been over a year and they haven’t said two words to each other. 

Growing up, James thought there could never be too much love. Love is what makes the world turn, what makes all of this hell worth living. Life can be fights and war and pain, but love is the prize. How could there ever be too much of such a good thing?

Then James met the Black brothers and learned that too much love is toxic.

It blinds them, ties their hands behind their backs, and pits them against each other. They can’t interact with each other without the love spilling out, causing a hurricane of anger and hurt. Sirius and Regulus love each other more than anybody in the world and that makes them mortal enemies. Sirius thinks he hates Regulus, but it’s the opposite of the truth; he just loves his brother too much.

“When Sirius showed up at our doorstep, convulsing and bleeding out, he could only say gibberish. The second my mum raised her wand to start putting up wards against your family, he grabbed her and said ‘Don’t lock Regulus out.’ He was about to fucking die after being tortured and was coughing up blood and his first priority was making sure you would be safe if you left. I know he isn’t speaking to you right now because he’s hurt, but don’t ever think that he would be anything less than elated if you came.”

Regulus shakes his head, his overgrown curls falling in his face. “I can’t, James. I need to go home.”

“Why? Please come home with me.” James is whining, but he doesn’t care. Does Regulus not see how toxic his family is? Does he genuinely think they’ll change? “They hurt Sirius, so they could hurt you too. You’re not safe there.”

I couldn’t save Sirius from that, but I can save you. I can’t watch you both get hurt.

“Stop, James, please,” Regulus begs, scrunching his eyes closed even tighter. “I can’t come with you.”

“Why?” James might be yelling, but he isn’t sure. He feels like he’s floating a few feet above his body, stuck between the present and reliving the past.

Sirius, broken and bleeding, bleeding on the floor, bleeding in James’ arms-

“They’re my family and I’m the heir! I need to do what’s expected of me!”

“Fuck being the heir! They’re manipulative and toxic! They might hurt you! You need to get out ! You’re not safe there!”

Reg, broken and bleeding, just like his brother.

“I am safe there. I know you saw what happened to Sirius and you’re scared, but I’m not like him, I’ve never been like him. My parents respect me more. They won’t hurt me.” Regulus wraps his arms around his chest, hugging himself like he’s a frightened child, and it’s that simple movement that makes James stand down. Regulus acts mean and stoic, but on the inside, he’s still just a boy desperately seeking the love of his parents.

“Okay, Regulus. I trust you. I just… can’t see you get hurt,” James says, wrapping his arms around Reg and pulling him close.

“They won’t hurt me, James. I’ll be fine. They won’t hurt me,” Regulus repeats over and over until James isn’t sure which one of them he’s trying to convince.

In the end, James ignores his instincts that scream to kidnap Regulus if that’s what it takes for him to not go home. He enchants two pieces of parchment to show messages so he can safely communicate with Reg.

Watching Regulus leave the platform with his parents until he fades into the distance is enough to make James bend over and vomit all over the concrete.

“Oh, sweetheart! Are you alright?” Effie asks, smoothing James’ hair away from his eyes. James can’t lie to his mum, so he doesn’t say anything and simply leans into her embrace, but the comfort of being held doesn’t stop the pit in his stomach from growing.

He spends the next two nights feeling like the ground beneath him is quaking, constantly writing to Regulus on the parchment and receiving infuriatingly undetailed answers. James doesn’t sleep; he simply sits at his window watching Regulus’ star. If he doesn’t look away, doesn’t take his eyes off of it, doesn’t blink, then Regulus will be safe. He’s watching him, he’s watching him so closely, so nothing can happen to him, nothing. 

One night, Sirius wordlessly joins him and the two boys watch the star until the sun comes up.

When James feels the pop of the wards shifting to accommodate someone on the third night, he barely even flinches. He’s imagined Regulus showing up so many times that he feels phantoms pops at least ten times a day. James will drop whatever he’s doing, sprint to the border, and search the trees for the familiar figure, but he always returns with empty arms and a heart so heavy he collapses to the floor. 

And yet, every time he feels the pop, his heart flies into his throat.

It’s real, this time it’s real, he’s really here.

James races down the stairs and skids into the entryway, smashing his shoulder into the doorframe. Rubbing his arm and swearing, James throws open the front door, fully expecting to be choked by the usual cloud of disappointment and guilt and-

There’s a figure, silhouetted on the doorstep, bathed in the setting sun, and it’s an angel, it’s his angel.

Regulus, Regulus, Regulus.

His fist is raised, about to knock, and he stumbles backward at James’ sudden appearance, letting out a little gasp of shock. 

The two boys stand there, gaping at each other like neither of them can believe their eyes, can believe this is really happening. 

Regulus recovers first while James is pinching his hand, trying to see if this is a dream because Regulus can’t be here, he can’t be on his doorstep, he can’t be because that would mean- “You might have been right about me not going back to my parents,” Regulus says, staring at his bare feet, and James breaks.

He might be screaming his name. He might be crying. He doesn’t care. 

All that matters is Regulus is here and within arms reach of James, safe at last.

James throws his arms around him, pressing Regulus flush against his body like their skin meeting can take away whatever pain he just endured. 

I’ve got you, my love. You’re safe now and I’m never letting you go again. Never, never, never.

“Did they hurt you?” James asks, letting his hands roam every inch of Regulus' body, searching for cuts, blood, bruises- 

I’ll kill them. If they hurt both of them, I’ll rip them apart, bone from fucking bone.

“No, they didn’t touch me,” Regulus whispers, reaching up to stroke James’ cheek.

That doesn’t answer my question.

Not hurt physically, but James can see the fractured pain radiating throughout Regulus. It’s in his eyes, it’s in his torn clothing, it’s in the trembling of his hand as he holds onto James like he’s drowning and James is the last drop of water in the world.

“James? What’s going on- Oh, honey,” Effie says, running into the kitchen with Monty at her side. She reaches for Regulus, but he flinches away, pulling away from James with wild fear pounding behind his eyes. 

James wraps another arm around him, kissing the top of his head. “You’re safe now, Regulus. You’re safe. It’s all over.”

You’re never going back there again.

Effie opens her mouth to say something, but another voice pierces the evening. “Oi, what are you-”

James turns his head just in time to see Sirius and Remus emerging from their nightly walk, hand in hand and with the giddy grins they only have when with the other. James sees the moment this joy falters, the moment the smiles slip from their mouths, the moment Sirius’ eyes lock onto the fourth figure, the moment he sees the person in James’ arms. 

“Is that my brother? Is that my fucking brother?” James’ eyes are blurry from tears, but he swears that Sirius’ feet aren’t touching the ground. He’s yelling, but he’s flying.

He’s fucking flying.

One moment, Sirius is 100 yards away and the next, he’s on the doorstep, reaching for his brother, and Regulus reaches back.

The two brothers meet again and there’s a seismic shift in the universe.

They’ve cuddled up to each other at night, had secret midnight rendezvous sessions in the corridors of Hogwarts, fought battles for their brother, sworn to protect each other until their final breath, physically put themselves between their brother and danger, and slipped flattened food under locked doors. But it all eventually led to yelling so loudly their voices were hoarse in the morning, smashing vases in anger, taking insults too far in arguments, cursing their brother’s name in front of him, and fighting because they didn’t know how to love each other.

Yet no words are too hurtful to take back, no fight is too huge, no relationship is too broken to not at least try to fix it. Not between brothers. Not between Sirius and Regulus Black.

They weren’t ready before, but they’re ready now. James can see it in the way Regulus fists his hands into Sirius’ shirt like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground, in the way Sirius is holding Regulus with all his strength but gently cupping the side of his face, in the way they’re both clinging to each other like frightened children reunited after a terrible storm. They’ve come back together and they’ll try again. They might not get it exactly right at first, but they’ll try again, as many times as it takes to become the brother that the other deserves.

Brothers back together, never to be separated again. 

James hangs back, letting them have their moment, but both boys untangle themselves for long enough to hold out an arm for him. James lets out a choked sob, letting himself slot into place between his best friend and his boyfriend. 

Regulus is crying and Sirius is crying and James is crying, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing that existed before this second matters, this monumental instant in time where the world finally snapped back into alignment. 

They have each other and nothing is going to come between them again.

Remus climbs the steps behind them hesitantly and James wraps an arm around him, pulling him into their circle.

His boys. His family. Finally together, finally whole, finally healing.

“It’s over. It’s all over,” James whispers, arms around Sirius’ and Regulus’ waists, squeezing them so tightly that they’ll never dare to move away again. 

“Are they going to come after you?” Sirius asks, pulling away from the tangled huddle slightly to look Regulus in the eyes. “Are you hiding from them?”

“I don’t think so,” Regulus says, shaking his head. “They… kicked me out.”

“They kicked you out?” Sirius repeats, jaw dropped. 

“Essentially.” 

“Our parents essentially kicked you out? The perfect Black heir? What did you do, Reggie?” Sirius asks with his usual shroud of sarcasm, but the concern is rolling off of him in waves so potent James is shocked that any of them can still breathe. 

Regulus shakes his head, but he’s sad, not angry. “I was never perfect, Sirius. I tried, but that wasn’t me. I could never be what they wanted me to be and they finally figured it out.”

Sirius whines, low in his throat, and Remus rests his head against his shoulder. “You told me that’s what you wanted. You told me, you told everyone -“

“I was acting, Sirius, and I believe it was you who taught me how to do that before I could even talk,” Regulus snaps.

Sirius winces and opens his mouth to retaliate, but James steps in. There are clearly many conversations the brothers need to have, but they’re going to have to wait. “What happened, Regulus? They saw through you?”

Now it’s Regulus’ turn to wince. “In a manner of speaking…”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Sirius snaps. “For once in your life, just be upfront about something!”

“Oh, you want upfront?” Regulus says, his voice rising, and James prepares himself for the inevitable screaming match. It was only a matter of time, so better to get it out of the way sooner rather than later. “After you left, they got even worse. If my voice cracked, I got hit. If I ate too quickly, I got hit, but I also got hit if I ate too slowly. If there was one strand of hair on my clothes, I got hit. If I fucking breathed too frequently, I got hit, and that’s all because they expected me to be so flawless that I make up for what a walking catastrophe you are!” Sirius opens his mouth, but Regulus continues. “And I was doing it! I was the perfect boy, the perfect son, the perfect heir, and she still didn’t fucking trust me! When I was in the shower, she went through my room, and she found a photograph of me and…” Regulus trails off, all the fire suddenly snuffed out like a torch and a gust of wind, leaving only tendrils of smoke behind.

“What did she find, Reg?” Remus asks gently. Regulus’ eyes snap to James and oh.

James is going to murder Walburga and Orion Black.

“It’s not important what she found,” Regulus says quickly, trying to cover his tracks, but Sirius has latched on.

“A photograph of you and who? Regulus Arcturus Black, do you have a girlfriend I don’t know about? Is she not a Slytherin? Is she a half blood? Godric, is she a Muggle born ?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend, Sirius!” Regulus snaps, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, how would I know? You’ve never had one before, but there’s a first time for-” Sirius stutters to a stop midsentence, a wand tip igniting behind his eyes. “Holy shit, Reggie, are you…”

“Am I what?” Regulus asks, eyes snapping directly onto Sirius’, making him work for the answer, for his darkest secret. “Go on.”

Sirius drops his gaze, focusing intensely on a rock on the doorstep. He’s quiet for a moment and James knows he’s running through every interaction he’s ever had with his brother, wondering how he missed this. “How long have you been…” He finally whispers, voice shaking.

Regulus snorts. “Really, of all the questions to ask, you choose that one? I would assume since I was born. I never fancied girls, but I didn’t realize I fancied boys until I saw two of them kissing on the street when I was 10.”

“So you have a boyfriend then?” Sirius asks, drawing out the word and waggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Merlin’s balls,” Regulus says, burying his head in his hands. 

Sirius is relentless, pulling Reg into a headlock and pressing a fist to his hair. “Reggie’s got a boyfriend, Reggie’s got a boyfriend!”

“I will literally leave,” Regulus says flatly. “I will go back to our parents.”

“Oh, shut up, you love it,” Sirius teases, and by the way Regulus’ eyes are twinkling, James knows it’s true. “Who’s the lucky man that’s stolen my brother’s heart?”

James, like the master secret keeper that he is, begins choking. 

It’s not like Regulus and James are keeping their relationship a secret on purpose. They haven’t told anyone, but that’s a product of circumstance. They’ve only been together for a month. James has every intention of telling Sirius, but it hasn’t been the right time. 

Honestly, James was scared shitless. He’s dating Sirius’ estranged little brother whom he hasn’t spoken to in over a year who apparently holds all of the bigoted and cruel beliefs that their parents do. Yeah, that would definitely go over well. James knew the right time would come, but it just hadn’t yet. 

Is this the right time? The brothers have just reunited, so emotions are high, but is that a good thing? Is it better to just dump it all on Sirius right now when he doesn’t want to tear Regulus’ throat out? His brother got kicked out and has come to live with them, so what’s one more thing to process? 

Sirius pulls away from Regulus to slap James on the back, which just causes him to cough harder. “Did you choke on air there, Prongs? Is the prospect of my little brother having a boyfriend too much for you?”

Regulus’ eyes flit to him, narrowed and glaring daggers at him, but James can’t stop the blush from flooding his cheeks.

“Oh! ” Remus gasps suddenly, looking from Regulus to James with his jaw touching the floor. He snaps it shut when Sirius looks at him, but it’s too late.

“Moony, what… James, why are you the color of a tomato?”

It takes Sirius a minute of watching the three boys gape at each other, in far too deep to dig themselves out, but he gets there eventually. 

He’s silent, but the whole atmosphere changes. It’s suddenly buzzing with charge like the air right before a lightning strike when all you can do is brace for impact. 

“No way,” Sirius finally says, but he’s laughing. He’s laughing and not screaming, so that’s a good sign… right? It’s better than shouting? James hasn’t a clue; this is all uncharted territory. “No. Way. You’re all having me on because there’s no fucking way my best friend and little brother are dating!”

Oh. There’s the yelling.

“Sirius…” Remus says softly, reaching for his arm, but Sirius pulls away.

“It’s alright, Moony, they’re just fucking around. Pulling a very funny prank. Ha fucking ha. Consider me amused.”

“Sirius…” James tries, trying to subtly move between him and Regulus. If this goes south, he wants to be the one Sirius goes after, not Reg.

“Tell me it’s a joke, James. Tell me it’s a joke,” Sirius says through gritted teeth. He’s begging, but all James can do is shake his head. 

“We were going to tell you-”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Regulus groans and Sirius latches onto it like a feral animal. “You were going to tell me? Fat load of good that does! How long until you were going to tell me, huh? Days, months, years, your fucking wedding?”

“It’s only been a month-”

“And how much time were you talking before that? You didn’t go from strangers to boyfriends overnight! Or have you been friends all along? Lying to me for years and using my little brother-”

“I’m not using him for anything! I fucking love him!” James replies, yelling now.

“Oh, you love him, do you?” Sirius yells, eyes wide and rabid, but James can see something glittering behind the anger.

It’s fear.

James softens, gripping Sirius’ shoulders. “Sirius, over the last few months, have I given you any less attention?” He slowly shakes his head and James continues. “Have I talked to you any less?” Another head shake. “Have I given you one single indication that I love you any less?” A final head shake, Sirius’ hair falling like a curtain over his eyes. James reaches out to smooth it back, tucking it behind his ears. “Loving Regulus doesn’t mean that I love you any less. I can love you both at the same time. I’ve been doing that and you didn’t even notice. Nothing is going to change. I’m still your best friend and you’re still my favourite person, okay?”

Sirius reaches his arm up. James thinks he’s going in for a hug, so he moves to accommodate him, but Sirius grabs him and throws him against the side of the house.

“What the fuck?” James exclaims. Was his whole speech for nothing? What else could he possibly say to make Sirius understand?

“You treat my brother right or I’ll tear you apart, you understand? You hurt him and you’ll wish you were never born!” Sirius threatens, shaking James so his head smacks the brick wall.

“I’d never hurt him,” James says, making eye contact with Regulus over Sirius’ shoulder. He rolls his eyes at the sappiness, but a little smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. 

“Well, now that’s over with,” Sirius says, promptly releasing James and throwing an arm around him and Regulus, squishing the three of them together into the world’s most uncomfortable embrace. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me.”

“Wow. I wonder why we would ever think that,” Regulus says flatly, his voice muffled from where his mouth is pressed somewhere under Sirius’ sternum.

They all pull away at the same time, hair sticking up in every direction and cheeks pink, but Sirius and James don’t release their grip on each other. Reg looks between them, blinking, before finally shaking his head and sighing. “I’ve given up trying to understand you two. It leads to a much higher quality of life.”

“Well, you better start taking notes, Reggie boy, because you’re going to be seeing a lot more of us if you’re living here,” Sirius crows, then continues more thoughtfully, “You are staying, right? You’re not going back there?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice. Mother found that photograph of us, James. I hid it, but apparently not well enough.”

It’s the only picture that exists of the two of them. It was taken during James’ birthday party which was attended by nearly every student at Hogwarts, so it wasn’t suspicious for Regulus to be there. They were both drunk out of their minds and somehow found themselves dancing on a table, screaming along to a Queen song. Lily had taken the photo from behind, where it looks like nothing more than two drunk boys doing something they wouldn’t remember in the morning.

“I came back from my shower and she read my mind before I could prepare myself. She found… everything.” Regulus winces, and so do the other boys. “She told me that she couldn’t believe I was a dirty queer and that I needed to do a better job at hiding it. I don’t know what came over me, but I said I didn’t want to hide it and I was tired of living a lie. She hated that, told me that I needed to ‘squander my unholy urges’ and ‘honour my family duty to reproduce’ or I could get out of her house. I walked out of the room, called Kreacher, and had him apparate me out of there. And now…” Regulus gestures at his surroundings, “here I am in all my disowned homosexual glory.”

The weight of his words makes the distance between Regulus and James suddenly unbearable. James closes the gap, wrapping his arms around Regulus from behind, burying his head in his hair and letting the soft curls ground him. “I’m so sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”

Regulus tips his head back so it rests on James' shoulder and turns his face into his neck. “It’s alright, James. I should have known better than to think that they would ever accept me for who I am.”

Sirius, may Godric bless him, has always been a bit slow on the uptake. He gasps as the pieces finally click into place. “Oh, Merlin’s tits, she never even mentioned that to me, even when she was picking apart every single aspect of my personality. I didn’t think…”

“Well, surprise!” Regulus exclaims with fake enthusiasm, throwing his hands up in the air. “Mother is homophobic enough that she prefers the oldest house of magic to die than have an heir who dares to like cock!”

There’s a moment of silence before Regulus and Sirius burst out laughing. It’s not funny. In fact, it’s so violently unfunny that James’ stomach is lurching precariously, threatening to expel whatever he choked down from dinner, but Regulus and Sirius are laughing so hard that they’re sliding down the railing to lay on the concrete steps. 

“We did it, Reg!” Sirius chokes, tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks. “We weren’t even fucking talking to each other and we ended the bloodline!” 

“We deserve medals, trophies, Order of Merlin - First Class!” Regulus gasps, clutching his stomach. 

“I think we still have some cake inside,” James says sincerely, which just makes the boys laugh harder.

Regulus squints up at him through his tear-soaked lashes, so fucking beautiful, and runs a hand down his arm, squeezing his skin like he’s trying to make sure that he’s really there. “How are you real? How are you a real person?”

James is completely and utterly lost, but apparently Regulus is speaking a language only Blacks can understand as Sirius responds, “And he means it too, that’s the worst part, Reggie. He fucking means every word that comes out of his mouth, the bastard.”

“It’s truly infuriating,” Remus agrees.

“I’m confused,” James admits, causing all three boys to erupt into laughter again.

Sirius claps a hand onto his shoulder, grinning. “Never you mind, Prongs, never you mind.” With the quirk of an eyebrow, he turns so his back is facing Regulus and bends down. “For old time's sake?” 

Regulus snorts, but his smile is so bright that it sears spots into James’ vision. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Me? Change? Never!” Sirius scoffs, matching Regulus’ grin with one of equal brightness. It’s like looking directly into their stars.  

Regulus climbs onto his back and Sirius takes off running into the house. “Welcome home, Reggie! Catch us if you can, little brother fucker!”

James laughs and races after them. “Excuse you, I haven’t fucked him yet! I’m an honest man!”

Regulus turns his head around and the look he gives James makes him stop in his tracks, heat exploding behind his navel. “But you will? Someday soon?”

James is too busy trying to remember how to put together a coherent thought to respond, so Sirius interjects, “Ew, can you not discuss this around me?”

“You brought it up,” James, Regulus, and Remus reply in unison. 

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m having major regrets about it. I don’t think I care if you’re together, but I don’t want to hear the details.”

“You’ve literally told me everything you’ve done with Moony, even the time he-“

“Padfoot!” Remus exclaims. “Is nothing sacred?”

“Sorry, Moonbeam, some things are so magnificent that I simply must spread them to all those who-”

Regulus claps his hands over his ears. “No way are you subjecting me to listen to this too. I refuse to hear about my brother and his boyfriend, thank you very much.”

“Wait, you know we’re together?” Sirius asks, trying to look at Regulus while running, which causes him to trip over his own feet and nearly send both of them tumbling up the stairs. 

“Watch where you’re going, you idiot! Yes, I know about you and Lupin.”

“How? We’re not telling anyone!”

Regulus snorts. “You’re not exactly subtle. You’ve been making fuck-me eyes at him since you were 14.”

“Lies! I am the king of subtlety! James, tell Regulus he’s simply incorrect.”

“I would, Padfoot, but I’m afraid I must not tell lies.”

“Blasphemy! Slander! I change my mind; I don’t approve of your relationship. You two are a match made in hell.”

Maybe it’s true. Maybe they’re all matches made in hell. But that’s what makes them special - a bond formed from trauma so solidly that nothing can break it. 

Oh, but things try. They slip through the cracks, hitting just enough triggers and insecurities to inch their way through. They cause fights and rash words and hurt feelings, but they’re always found before they make any lasting damage. 

Sirius and Regulus fight the very next day, screaming at each other so loudly that James genuinely worries the house will fall in. As with most of their arguments, the brothers go from calmly playing a round of chess to throwing the board into the lit fireplace and hollering at each other.

“You left me! You fucking left me!” Regulus yells, jumping to his feet.

“I didn’t have a choice! She tortured me and she was going to come back for more! I was bloody incoherent! I couldn’t move! I don’t even know how I got out of there-”

Regulus throws back his head and laughs, high and cold. “Of course you don’t remember! You make me out to be the villain and then you conveniently forget every single time I did something good!” 

“I- what?” Sirius says, choking on his rebuttal. “What are you on about?”

“ I am the one who got you out of there! I am the one who called Kreacher and made him apparate us here. I am the one who dragged you across this fucking estate and dropped you on the doorstep. I am the one who then returned home, scrubbed your blood out of the floorboards, and suffered Mother’s wrath when she realized you escaped. That was all me, so don’t you dare say I never cared.”

It’s quiet after that, the eerie kind of quiet that comes after purging and revealing your whole soul to someone. The atmosphere is unsteady as if even the air particles are waiting for Sirius’ response. 

Sirius crosses the room in two steps and envelops his brother in a hug, the only person in the world that Regulus lets embrace him without an invitation. “Thank you for saving me, Reg. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Regulus sinks into his brother. “You did, Sirius. You always have.” 

There are more fights after that, still with shocking intensity, but they always end with the two brothers finding refuge in each other’s arms. 

They aren’t the only ones who argue. Sirius and Remus have a few spats. A particularly awful one ends with Sirius slipping into James’ bed, which is already harboring a mostly naked Regulus. After a few hours of Regulus and James pretending to be asleep, Remus comes padding into the room, where the two boys have a quick and passionate makeup that spurs James to scream, “Not in my bed, you horny heathens!” while Regulus howls, “My ears! My eyes!” and beats his brother with a pillow. 

Remus and Regulus don’t go so far as actual arguments, but they do have a few exchanges of passive-aggressive comments. The two were familiar with each other due to Prefect duties and being patrol partners, somewhere between friends and acquaintances. When two boys as vehemently opinionated and sarcastic as Remus Lupin and Regulus Black are in the same room, disagreements can only be expected, but they move on from them quickly. 

Surprisingly, it’s James that finds himself having the most trouble, which is fucking ridiculous because he’s the happiest he’s ever been. Regulus has no more ties to his family and is finally safe. Their relationship is perfect, Regulus is perfect, and James spends every second wondering what he did to deserve the honour of being his boyfriend. Remus is adjusting to his cane and he’s laughing more than James has ever seen, clearly basking in the glow of Sirius’ happiness. 

Sirius .

Sirius has been emitting joy since the moment he saw Regulus on the doorstep. It’s in every smile, every laugh, every joke, every word, every breath. Regulus is finally happy. Remus is finally happy. Sirius is finally happy. 

James is just… restless. Since that first night at Hogwarts, James has been the mother hen. Sirius was shattered from leaving his family for the first time and being sorted into Gryffindor, plus dealing with processing his trauma now that he was out of his house. Remus had been shut up in his house for seven years and didn’t know how to make friends, plus believing that he was a monster and trying to hide his darkest secret. They both needed James then and they’ve needed him every single day since then. Regulus has needed James every single day since they started talking. But now, they’re all coming to James less and less. They’re healing, relying on themselves and each other more, but who is James if not for their crutch? Who is he if he’s not needed every minute of every day?

James started feeling the pangs of inadequacy when Remus and Sirius first started dating and hanging out without him, but he buried it under the sincere elation he felt for his two best friends. Now, with Regulus trying to create relationships with both boys, the fears have returned with a vengeance. 

Am I not enough? Just me used to be enough for them, but suddenly it’s not. What happened to me? Why am I not enough anymore? 

James tries to suppress it, knowing the whole matter is ridiculous. He’s just being stupid like always. Of course his friends still need him. All three of them end up in his bed most nights. Everything is fine. Everything is how it always was, but better. James just needs to get over his foolish feelings and be happy. But when they return to Hogwarts and Regulus decides that he wants to spend the evening with his friends, James throws a tantrum. 

“They’re my friends, James.”

“But what do they have that I don’t?” James doesn’t get it. He gives great advice, he’ll listen to your problems for hours on end without complaining, he’s funny, he’s adventurous, he’ll give you compliments, he’ll buy you thoughtful presents. He’s the total package. Why does anyone need anything else?

Regulus’ face softens. “I know you want to be everything for everyone, love, but that’s not possible. How would you feel if I told you that you could only pick one person to stay in your life: me, Sirius, or Remus?”

What kind of a choice is that? How could James ever choose between his boys? Sirius’ mischief, jokes, and songs belted from the shower. Remus’ sarcasm, trivia facts, and advice. Regulus’ sense of humor, witty comebacks, and kisses. They all bring something unique to the table and James would be completely and utterly lost without any of them. “I could never choose.”

“Does that make you think any less of them?” 

Honestly, what a stupid question. “Of course not! You’re all so different, but just because one of you possesses a trait that the other doesn’t have doesn’t mean I love you any less. You’re all perfect…” James trails off, seeing Regulus’ victorious smirk, and realizes he’s just contradicted himself. “Okay, I see your point, but I’m different.”

“Why are you different?” Regulus asks and James can’t answer because he just is. Of course he’s different, he’s James, he needs to take care of everyone because he’s the only one that will. “You need to start holding yourself to the same standards that you hold other people.”

“I don’t have any standards for other people,” James says indignantly, falling right into Regulus’ trap again. 

“Exactly. You think that you need to be the perfect person for everyone in the world all at the same time, but you’re already perfect the way you are. You’re James Potter. You don’t need to change for anyone, especially yourself.” James opens his mouth to protest, but Regulus presses a finger against his lips, silencing him. “I know it’s not easy to believe, but look at me. You won me over just by being yourself.”

“No, I won you over by getting all of your favorite things and being who you needed me to be.”

“And that’s beautiful, James, but you didn’t need to do that. I’ve been in love with you since I was 11 years old, ever since I sat in that compartment with you. You were so nice to me, even when my brother was teasing me and being a little shit. You ignored him and made me feel welcome because that’s who you are. It didn’t matter whether I was Sirius’ little brother or a random kid off the street; you would have done the same thing. I fell in love with you that day while you balanced making sure my brother didn’t jump out of the train to catch his chocolate frog and asking me questions about myself. I’m not saying you can’t take care of people or buy them their favorite things to cheer them up because that’s your nature, but you don’t have to take it so far that you’re changing yourself to be what someone needs. Just be yourself, James. I promise that’s enough for anyone that matters.”

James winds up crying for so long that he falls asleep in Regulus’ arms. 

The truth is, James has been taking care of people since before he could talk. Effie and Monty are well known for taking in anyone that needs help. James grew up fetching bandages and healing potions for his mum. When he got older, he started helping the patients himself and learned just how much satisfaction he got from making them feel better. What’s the point of life if not making it easier for others? Somewhere along the way, the lines have blurred, and James isn’t really sure who he is. He knows Regulus is right, but he doesn’t know how to tell when he’s just helping someone feel comfortable and when he’s losing himself. How is he supposed to know if he would have spent his last sickle on that candy if he was with another person? Anyway, James is good at taking care of people. How can he make boundaries when he’s so skilled at what he does? Isn’t that a disservice to everyone that needs him? James has to help everyone he can, consequences be damned. How can he live with himself if he pulls back and he unknowingly turns away someone that needs him? If he doesn’t help them, then who will? 

No. James Potter must be perfect. He must be everything for everyone. 

——

If James doesn’t do this, Regulus or Sirius will become a Death Eater. He’s seen Sirius’ Boggart in Defense Against the Dark Arts, knows it’s going back to his family and getting the Dark Mark seared into his forearm. He’s heard Regulus murmuring in his sleep enough times, telling his parents that he doesn’t want the mark and begging them to stop, to know that it’s also his. 

Neither of them can handle it. It’s one or the other and neither of them is up to the task.  

But I can.

“It’s alright, love. I’m going to figure this out. You’re both going to stay safe,” James whispers into Reg’s curls, but his mind is already far away, piecing together a plan. 

----

“Oi, Rosier!” James calls down the hall, sprinting after him. He’s headed to Quidditch, but he’s been waiting to get Evan alone for a few days, so practice will just have to wait.

“Hey,” Evan responds, leaning against the hall and grinning as James catches up.

“I need a favor,” James says, fighting back the fear curled in the pit of his stomach.

I have to do this. It has to be me.

“Anything for you, Potter,” Evan smirks, raising an eyebrow. The two boys have grown closer over the past month due to Regulus. Surprisingly, they have a lot in common. James always thought he was just another wannabe Death Eater, which he is, but only because of his parents. Despite Evan’s wishes, once he leaves Hogwarts, he’ll go straight into Voldemort’s army. He doesn’t have a choice, and more importantly, he doesn’t have someone that will take his place.

“You might not say that when you hear what I need,” James sighs, running a hand through his hair.

Evan’s act drops instantly, the playful grin and waggling eyebrows vanishing. “What’s going on, James? Is it Reg? How can I help?”

“Yes and no…” James trails off, slamming his eyes shut and forcing himself to take four deep breaths.

I can do this. I have to do this.

“Do you have contact with Voldemort?” He finally spits out.

Evan’s eyes widen. “I’m not sure if I should answer that…”

“Please, Evan. This is important.”

Evan sighs and reluctantly confesses, “I don’t have direct contact with him, but my parents do. Why do you need to know that?”

“I…”

For Sirius. For Regulus.

“I need you to get a message to him.”

“A message? Saying what?”

For Regulus. For Sirius.

“That I want to join the Death Eaters.”

If Evan wasn’t already leaning against the wall, he would have fallen backward. His jaw drops open and his eyes bulge out of his head. “What the fuck?”

“Don’t ask questions, please-”

“Hell no. I’m asking questions.”

“It’s…” How much is too much to tell him? How much is a burden? How much will put him in danger? “It’s for Regulus. And Sirius. And everyone, really. I just… I need to do this, okay? Promise me you’ll make sure my message gets to him.”

Evan sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Of course, James. You know I’ll do anything for Regulus. Just… are you sure this is the answer?”

James nods solemnly. “It’s the only option.”

“Okay, I trust you, but…” Evan bites his lip. “You need to be careful. He’s not going to believe James fucking Potter just decided to join the Death Eaters.”

“I know that!” James snaps.

Don’t point out the flaw in my plan. 

James can’t think about this. If he does, it will all fall apart.

“You promise me that you’ll be careful. If this is to protect Regulus and Sirius, then you need to think this through. Regulus doesn’t need a dead boyfriend and Sirius doesn’t need a dead best friend. Don’t be yourself about this.”

“What do you mean?” How can James be anyone other than himself?

“This is what you do. You have no survival instinct. You get so caught up in trying to save everyone that you lose yourself in the process. That’s all well and good when you’re dealing with breakups and friend drama, but this is serious, James. This is life or death. If Voldemort doesn’t think you’re being sincere, he will kill you on the spot. One wrong move, one twitch of your eye, one look sideways, and you’re done. You can’t help them if you’re dead.”

Why is Evan telling him this? He doesn’t have a choice. This is what he has to do. This is the option that keeps them the safest. James’ safety doesn’t matter as long as Sirius and Regulus are out of harm’s way. 

“I know, Evan, I know. Just… you need to trust me on this.”

“I’m trying. I’m really trying, James. I just hope you’re not in over your head.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve got this,” James says, already jogging backward. Away from this conversation, away from Evan’s warnings, and away from the worries knocking around in his mind.

“You didn’t promise me you’d be careful!” Evan calls.

James winces. He didn’t promise for a reason. James doesn’t break promises, so he doesn’t make ones he can’t keep. 

It’s not like he won’t try to be careful because of course he will. But, he can’t promise to be careful. The only thing he can promise is:

“I promise I’ll protect Regulus.”

Evan opens his mouth like he wants to say more, but he just sighs and shakes his head. James turns around, really running now, and he feels Evan’s eyes on his back until he turns the corner.

James throws himself into the Quidditch practice, ordering speed drills for the team just so he has the excuse to race. With the wind racing through his hair, chest flat against his broom, the doubt blows right away and disappears into the setting sun.

After all, he is James Potter.

He’s got this. He always does. 

----

James receives the owl exactly one week later. 

It’s the last day of term before the summer holidays. They’re eating breakfast, laughing as Sirius tries to force juice out of his nose, when the owl lands right in front of him. It’s tall, black, and too regal to be from anyone James knows. 

“The fuck is that?” Sirius asks, tilting his head backward and snorting to no avail.

“Not sure,” James says, hoping neither boy notices him dropping his fork and pushing away his half-eaten eggs.

In all the stress of final exams and leaving Hogwarts, James almost forgot his request to Evan. Almost. He can ignore it during the day, but once he closes his eyes, the nightmares plague every moment.

Voldemort laughing, cold and cruel, sending a jet of green light straight between his eyes. 

A cloaked figure cornering Sirius and Regulus. Regulus yelling defiantly, jumping in front of his brother, but another flash of green light hitting him in the chest. Sirius screaming as his brother collapses, but the figure grabbing his arm and spinning them both into darkness. 

Sirius with the Dark Mark branded across his forearm, killing Dumbledore, McGonagall, James’ parents, Remus.

Regulus, Death Eater mask obscuring his beautiful face, Dark Mark just barely visible under his robes, locked in a basement making potions day and night.

Needless to say, James hasn’t been sleeping much. 

He unfurls the letter with fingers trembling so violently the fork shakes on his plate. A quill falls out, rolling across the table, but James ignores it to read the note.

Tomorrow. 10 am. Use the quill.

James flips the paper, but the back is blank. That’s it? Of course the letter would have to be brief in case it was intercepted, but for Merlin’s sake, Voldemort could have given a little more information. Where is he supposed to go? What does the quill have to do with anything?

“New quill? On the last day of term?” Sirius asks, raising an eyebrow skeptically as James pockets the quill. 

“Might need it over the summer,” James shrugs, hoping he comes across as nonchalant and his best friends can’t hear his heart trying to escape his chest. “I’ll write a few letters.”

“To who? My brother across the hall?” Sirius teases, grinning and leaning forward. 

“Oh yes. He’s horribly clingy, you see,” Regulus says, suddenly appearing behind James with Evan by his side. James jumps, stuffing the letter into his pocket alongside the quill. Regulus is too busy to notice, now discussing James’ “worrying levels of codependency” with Sirius and Remus, but he can’t miss the look Evan gives him. 

It’s not anger. It’s not fear. It’s not resentment. It’s something much, much deeper.

Evan is looking at James and seeing a headstone, a coffin, a noose, a body.

He thinks I’m a dead man.

“Let’s go, you lot. The train leaves soon,” James says, shaking off Evan’s eyes on his back, but he sees them every time he blinks.

After an hour of chaotic packing that results in a growing lump on Remus’ forehead from a summoning spell gone wrong and a trunk tied closed with a pair of pants, they board the train exactly one minute before departure.

“Have you three ever heard of packing ahead of time?” Regulus asks as the boys stumble into the compartment, bent double and wheezing. 

“Oh, lay off. We made it,” Remus says, collapsing onto the seat.

“With one minute to spare too. That’s practically early,” Sirius replies, laying on top of Remus, both boys too exhausted to move.

“Actually, it was 45 seconds,” Regulus says as the train whistle blows and the floor begins to rumble underneath their feet.

“Aw, look at you, keeping time for us. You do care, love,” James teases, sitting in Regulus’ lap despite the amble room in the compartment. 

“Don’t flatter yourself. I just wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t be arriving on the platform and going to your house by myself,” Regulus snarks, but his arms snake their way around James’ lap, tightening protectively when the train bounces. 

“Cut the shit, Reg. We all know you’re Effie and Monty’s favorite,” Remus says, slapping Sirius’ shoe out of the way as it bumps his cheek.

“Hey, I’m their favorite!” Sirius squawks indignantly, sitting bolt upright, kicking Remus in the head in the process. “Effie told me last summer that I’m her favorite!”

“That was before Mr. Golden Child entered the villa,” Remus says, rubbing his head which now has two bruises and gesturing toward Regulus.

Reg rolls his eyes. “Oh, please, you’re the favorite, Remus.”

“I don’t even live there. How can I be the favorite?”

“That’s exactly it, Moony,” James says, leaning forward. “You’re the mysterious enigma. Since you’re not around all the time, it makes you more alluring.”

“I still think I’m the favorite,” Sirius sniffs, nose in the air haughtily. 

While trying to contain his laugh, Regulus lets out a strangled snort, which suddenly has the whole cabin in hysterical laughter. Remus and Sirius are rolling around on the bench, swearing as they accidentally pummel each other, and soon they’re wrestling. Regulus is fighting to keep his expression the usual annoyed neutral, but the corners of his lips are turning up into a reluctant grin that can’t be stamped down, a lovely blush spreading across his cheeks. James reaches up to kiss it, feeling the skin heat up under his lips, and his own mouth breaks out into an involuntary smile as Remus and Sirius laugh behind him.

It doesn’t matter that Evan is sitting in the corner of the compartment, eyes searing James’ back. It doesn’t matter that the quill and note are burning a hole in James’ pocket. The only thing that matters is keeping the deafening flame of laughter burning and James will do anything to keep it alight. 

----

James sneaks out of bed at 9:50 the next morning. He moves at a nearly catatonic speed so as not to disturb the feral beast that is Regulus Black when he gets woken up. Slowly, James shifts Regulus’ head from his chest to a balled-up blanket and weasels his way out from Regulus’ tight embrace. 

Regulus won’t be surprised to wake up and find James gone. He’s an early riser, usually up and ready to go the second the clock strikes six, but today he allowed himself a lie in. Regulus was so beautiful: his hair pooling on James’ bare chest, mouth murmuring unintelligible words, breathing quietly. 

These might be James’ last few hours alive. He wants to indulge in a bit more of paradise. Sue him. 

No. I can’t think like that. I’m not going to die. I can’t die. 

James bends down, planting a kiss on Regulus’ forehead, lighter than a Hippogriff feather. “I love you,” he whispers.

Leaving the bedroom is physically painful. There are invisible strings wrapped around every part of James’ body, pulling him back toward Regulus. Each step farther away from him requires enormous physical effort; if he takes another step, his arm is going to come off, his leg is breaking, the hairs are being pulled out of his head in clumps-

James pauses in the doorway, fighting the urge to look back. Instead, his head turns to the left, to Sirius’ room.

The door is propped shut with a shoe (Sirius can’t sleep in a room with a closed door after the punishments of his childhood), leaving a small gap for James to peek through.

From this distance, the shapes of Sirius and Remus are indistinguishable, body melting into body, hair melting into hair, clothes melting into clothes. There’s not a centimeter where they’re not touching, not one patch of skin not pressed against the other’s skin. They’re one person, connected at the chest, a mess of arms and legs tightly wound together, mouths breathing into each others.

Soulmates in every lifetime, in every universe, in every meaning of the word.

They need each other in a way that James will never understand and has no desire to try to. Two boys, broken from their childhoods, found a home in each other. 

The quill heats up in James’ hand, quivering like it’s going to explode. When it pulls James away into the darkness, he goes willingly, the images of his three best friends sleeping peacefully emblazoned in his mind. 

----

The first thing James sees when he lands is Voldemort.

It doesn’t take a genius to recognize him. Voldemort’s face is constantly splattered across the front page of The Daily Prophet and emblazoned on signs around all the wizarding communities. James never really looked closely, but now that they’re face to face, he can’t help but take Voldemort in.

He looks… wrong. He has the face of a handsome man, but it’s like all of his features are blurred. James feels like he’s looking at a portrait made incorrectly. His eyes are too white, his nose is too flat, and the lines of his cheekbones and jaw are too faded, like the artist smudged the painting at the last minute. 

“Hello, Mr. Potter,” Voldemort says slowly, a dangerous smirk spreading across his face.

“Be careful, James. If Voldemort doesn’t think you’re being sincere, he will kill you on the spot.”

“My Lord,” James says, forcing himself into a low bow. Is that right? Is that respectful? “It is an honour.”

“You asked the young Mr. Rosier to speak with me?” He asks, not impressed.

James doesn’t know how long he’s supposed to bow for, but his back is starting to tremble, so he straightens up. “Yes, My Lord. I wish to become a Death Eater.”

Voldemort leans backward in his chair, staring James down, and the silence stretches on. 

This is it. This is how James dies. In some unknown building by a psycho on a power trip.

Finally, after at least two minutes of silence and eye contact, Voldemort simply says, “Is that so?”

Clearly, he wants James to do most of the work, which is fine by him. James has always had a talent for sweet-talking adults. Besides, talking is what he does best. “I was planning to join after I graduate from Hogwarts since I’ll have more time and I’ll be away from Dumbledore, but I heard you were looking for a younger person to join, so I didn’t want to let the opportunity pass.”

Does that sound real enough? It would make sense to wait until he leaves Hogwarts, right? Dumbledore could find him out? Classes would make it difficult for missions?

Voldemort has no reaction. He simply laces his fingers together and replies, “Walburga has already promised me one of her sons.”

They weren’t hers to promise you. They don’t belong to anyone.

“Yes, My Lord, that’s how I found out.”

Voldemort leans forward like James just walked into his trap. Fuck. “Both Black children are currently living with you?”

“Yes, My Lord,” James says. He isn’t sure how it became common knowledge that Reg is gone, but he can’t blatantly lie. “They both left their home because they don’t agree with our views. They believe in Dumbledore and want to fight for him.”

“And they found refuge in your home?”

“Yes, My Lord. My parents are fighting for Dumbledore, so they welcomed them.” The words sting like knives, but James has to say them. His family will be the biggest issue in Voldemort’s eyes. 

“And you, Mr. Potter? Do you not share their views?”

“I used to, but I have changed, My Lord. Hogwarts is overrun with half breeds and Mudbloods.” I’m sorry, Lily. I’m sorry, Mary. I’m sorry, Remus. “They steal magic and then steal my spot at the top of the class. The best students in our year have muddled blood. They will get the top jobs at the Ministry. They will weed us out. There is no room for Purebloods anymore. I want what my ancestors had, what I am destined for, what my blood dictates.”

Voldemort leans forward, nodding slowly. “A common belief shared among my loyal supporters. But you, Mr. Potter, have a reputation outside of your parents. The golden boy, taking every traitor under his wings.”

“I only appear kind and welcoming, My Lord. Too many make that mistake. Too many fail to see through me.” If James preaches about everyone not seeing him as a threat, it should make Voldemort scared to do the same. After all, everyone underestimated Voldemort at the beginning. No one ever foresaw the war strengthening to this level. “Adopting wounded people gains their trust, which then gets me secrets. I know how to get any information out of anyone.” This is true and James would never use it maliciously, but Voldemort doesn’t have to know this. The more truth he speaks, no matter how twisted it is, the more Voldemort will see his sincerity and trust him.

“You’re good at getting information? Good at getting secrets? Good at getting trust?” 

“Yes, My Lord,” James says sincerely.

“I have many sources inside Hogwarts, but not many that are experienced and close to Dumbledore.” James gulps as Voldemort leans even farther forward, his eyes fixed on James’. “You will be my spy. You will pretend to be one of Dumbledore’s most loyal supporters. You will gain the trust of his army. You will learn their secrets. You will report back to me with everything that you hear. Do you understand?”

James swallows hard. “Yes, My Lord.”

He can do it. He can be a spy. He’ll just feed Voldemort useless and insignificant information while gaining secrets from the Death Eaters and feeding them to Dumbledore. 

James Potter: double agent. The title has a nice ring to it. 

James’ mouth cracks into a wide smile, forgetting where he is, and that’s when Voldemort strikes. 

James has had his mind read before. In the early years at Hogwarts, Walburga used Legilimency on Sirius every single day to make sure he wasn’t hiding anything. Since Sirius was hiding things, she would find them and punish him severely. To combat this, James spent long nights learning Legimilency so Sirius could practice his Occlumency. It took their entire first year, but Sirius finally learned to block his mind. When James read his mind, it felt so real, but he only saw what Sirius wanted him to. Utterly fascinated, Sirius spent their second year teaching James Occlumency. 

He hasn’t used it in a while, but James recognizes the slight pop as Voldemort enters his mind, giving him just enough time to slam down a blockade around his true intentions.

Occlumency is very easy to get wrong and nearly impossible to get right. If you block your mind too thoroughly and leave certain areas blank, the person can feel it. James can’t shut down; he can’t or he’ll die. He needs to throw a doubt at Voldemort to distract him since that’s what he’s looking for.

Dumbledore telling James, “Once you graduate, you can join me. Complete your studies first.” I won’t be of any help yet. I should have waited until I left Hogwarts. I’ll be useless, so useless, and all I want is to help. How can I help if Dumbledore won’t let me into Order meetings? I can try to sneak in, but what if he catches me? I’m not good enough at Occlumency to block him. He’ll figure it out, figure me out, and I’ll be killed. But if I don’t get any good information, the Dark Lord will think I’m a traitor and kill me. I don’t want to die without being of use to someone.

It should be enough, why isn’t it enough , but Voldemort keeps pushing, sensing the block around some of James’ thoughts. 

If I let him in this part, he’ll think that’s the only thing I’m hiding. If I don’t let him in, I die.

“You can’t help them if you’re dead.”

Regulus sleeping peacefully. Sirius and Remus entangled together. A train compartment full of laughter.

James lets out a muffled sob and lets one section of his wall crumble down.

Sirius bleeding on the doorstep. Regulus kissing down his throat. Sirius’ Boggart. Regulus sobbing, “I don’t want to be a Death Eater.” The four boys cuddled together in bed. I love them. I need to protect them. This will protect them.

Just enough for Voldemort to see James’ love for his friends, but not enough to unlock the depth he’s willing to take on for them. 

Voldemort pulls away, leaving James to sob again, I’m sorry Reg, I’m sorry Sirius, I’m sorry Remus, I’m so fucking sorry. He leans back, lacing his fingers together once more and watches James struggling to regain control. “Interesting. Very interesting.”

He’s silent for the next minute while James pulls himself together. James wipes the tears from his cheek and straightens up, looking at Voldemort through his blurry eyes. “You appear to be telling the truth, Mr. Potter. You’re right that pushing Dumbledore is risky. Spend the summer strengthening your relationship with him and listening in on conversations at home when you can. Since you’ll be my spy, I can’t have you in any Death Eater meetings or on missions quite yet. The fewer people that know about you, the better. We’ll reevaluate when school begins.” Voldemort breaks eye contact to grab an empty inkwell from a drawer in his desk. He snaps his fingers and the inkwell shines. “In exactly two days’ time, this will transport you to our next meeting location. It’s a celebration with the most loyal old families. The Black boy was supposed to receive his mark, but I see giving it to either one would be a mistake, so you will receive the mark alone.” He pulls out a small rock. “This will transport you to a secondary location.” Voldemort’s hand, far too white and nearly translucent, holds out the objects and James steps forward on trembling legs to take them. When their hands brush, a rush of magic surges through James that’s so strong his knees buckle. 

I’ve never felt power like that before.

James goes to withdraw his hand, but Voldemort grips onto it like a vice, making James gasp in shock. “Do not betray me, James Potter, or your little friends will be the first to suffer.”

James gulps, forcing him to return the pressure of Voldemort’s handshake. “Yes, My Lord. I will not disappoint you.” 

It’s the greatest feat of strength James has ever shown to make it back to the door without falling over, throwing up, or screaming. As the stone begins to burn in his palm, James even turns around and bows to Voldemort before he gets sucked away.

James lands in a park in the middle of London. He falls to his knees, sobs, and buries his face in the grass.

What has he done?

----

The next two days are the slowest of James’ life. Regulus locks himself in his own room, complaining that he has the flu. James tries to visit him, but the little shit spells his door to repel everyone. The last day of term was the full moon, so Remus spends most of the time in his bed with Sirius by his side. Effie and Monty are away on a mission for Dumbledore (the irony is not lost on James), so he has an excuse to hide in his room. When he can’t stand being alone with his thoughts anymore, James flies for hours, spelling his broom invisible and using his cloak to fly around London. At night, he crawls into bed with Remus and Sirius, holding both boys as they fall asleep. 

When he has one arm around Sirius and the other around Remus, both curled up to his chest and peacefully breathing, it’s enough to get James up on the second morning.

This is why I’m doing this.

James summons his robes and dresses at the foot of their bed. When he slipped out, Remus and Sirius found their way together even in their sleep. A tangle of limbs and one body once again. Across the hall, James can see Regulus’ door still shut tight. 

This is the day one of them was supposed to get the Dark Mark. Right now, Walburga or Orion would be trying to disarm the wards around the Potter’s property. If they succeeded, they would be ripping Sirius from Remus at this very second. Can’t they see that two boys who fit so perfectly together aren’t meant to be separated? 

The stone grows hot in his hand. James clenches his fist around it, his fingernails digging into his palm.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

He’s shaking, he’s going to drop the rock, he can’t do this, it hurts, everything hurts, he didn’t say goodbye to Regulus, what is he doing, Remus and Sirius are holding each other, he can’t reach them, he’s trying to touch them but he can’t move, he can’t open his mouth, why can’t he open his mouth, he needs to tell his boys he loves them, he fucked up, he fucked up so badly, he can’t do this, it hurts it hurts it hurts he’s an idiot he can’t do this he can’t he can’t he can’t-

James is sucked away, his screams dying in his throat.

----

James lands in the middle of a ballroom to stunned silence. There aren’t many wizards in attendance, but James feels their presence like he just appeared in a crowded Quidditch stadium. He desperately scans the room, his stomach dropping with every person he sees: Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and Orion and Walburga Black. 

James stumbles backward, desperate to get away from Walburga’s victorious smirk, but he feels a cold hand clamp down on his shoulder, that shock of power jolting through him once more. “And here he is! Our special guest, James Potter!” 

If Voldemort was expecting applause, he gets none. Instead, the six evil bastards stare at James with identical looks of shock, as if someone quite literally pulled the rugs out from underneath them. 

Shocking to no one, Bellatrix is the first to speak. “My Lord?” She asks tentatively. “Are we sure he is to be trusted? He is a Potter. Everyone knows they are right at Dumbledore’s side.”

“I had my doubts at first, but James has proved his intentions and willingness to join our ranks, and understands the consequences if he does not.” The hand on James’ shoulder tightens and his mind is suddenly flooded with images. 

Sirius screaming in pain, halfway mad, body broken on the ground. Regulus, blood pouring from a hundred gashes along his body. Remus choking, a hand clamped over his eye and his leg bent at a sickening angle. 

“Y-Yes, My Lord,” James says and the visions stop, leaving James slack-jawed and boneless. 

“As you know, I have gathered you all here today because you are my most loyal supporters. You have earned your places at my right hand. The other families will hear about this meeting and be jealous of you. It will spur them to work harder, so you must not let your guard down. However, Lord Voldemort is merciful. Your faith has rewarded you with a secret. Keep up your service, and there will be more. Today, you will watch as James Potter receives my mark and you will welcome him into our ranks. This secret is not easily divulged and you will protect it with your life. You will not speak a word of what happened here to anyone else, not even each other. Fail to do so and the consequences may be… severe. Do you all understand?”

“Yes, My Lord,” the six witches and wizards chorus, bowing deeply. 

“Thank you for your generosity, My Lord. This is an honour we will not take for granted,” Lucius says, and the rest murmur in agreement. 

“Very well,” Voldemort says, turning his attention back to James. “Mr. Potter, it is time.”

The Death Eaters form a circle around them, closing in, why are they so close, James is going to pass out, James can’t breathe, what the fuck is he doing? 

Voldemort takes James’ left arm, pulling up his sleeve to expose his bare forearm. “James Potter, do you accept this mark, and in turn pledge yourself to me, Lord Voldemort, and promise to fight for me until your last breath?”

What am I doing what am I doing what am I doing?

Remus passionately ranting about the plot of a book he’s reading. Sirius, soaring around the Quidditch pitch, arms outstretched. Regulus, hand entwined with James’, pointing out the constellations. 

For them. I’m doing this for them. 

For family. For friendship. For love. For Remus Lupin. For Sirius Black. For Regulus Black. 

The fear in Regulus’ eyes after he received Walburga’s letter. The pain in Sirius’ scream when he saw his Boggart self in the exact position James is in right now. 

James was made to be a protector and this is the greatest act of protection he can offer them. 

The sound is inaudible over the sound of Voldemort beginning to cast the spell, but James’ invisible strings tug his head up and pull his eyes to the doorway. It’s just wide enough for a person to stand inside it. A person with fancy robes, perfectly erect posture, and hair so flawlessly maintained not one single strand is out of place. 

It’s the exact version of Regulus that James is fighting to watch die. 

The real Regulus hates dress robes and robes of any kind because they make his skin itch. The real Regulus slouches so much his brother makes fun of the shape of his spine. The real Regulus likes his curls messy and hates any type of hair product because they dry crunchy. The real Regulus is messy and improper and enjoys swearing and does unholy things with his tongue that make James see the stars. 

Regulus spent his whole life burying his real self, but after today, he will never have to again. 

Reg’s mouth falls open, a look of sheer horror and pain warping his face so severely James forgets how to breathe. 

No. This isn’t supposed to hurt him. Can’t he see that I’m saving him?

Carefully, very carefully, James taps his right thigh twice with his free hand. Regulus’ eyes flicker to it and James slowly taps out the Morse code for “I love you”. He can’t speak, can’t even mouth the words, but James can see the way Regulus’ face shatters as he recognizes the pattern.

Regulus steals his jaw, stepping forward, and James bites on his tongue to suppress a scream. The stubborn bastard can’t even let James save him without interfering. 

Regulus takes another step, opening his mouth, and James has no choice. He closes his eyes, reaching desperately for Regulus’ mind. Thank Merlin he and Sirius practiced Legilimency wandless. 

James finds it, grabbing on tight. He opens his eyes, watching Regulus’ chest as he gasps, feeling James in his head. A flood of images crash through his head, tiny Sirius reading to Regulus, Sirius jumping in front of Regulus and getting his calf sliced open, James soaring over the Quidditch stadium, exchanging sarcastic comments with Remus, Sirius holding Regulus, James kissing Regulus’ neck -

James forces himself to ignore them and instead speaks, crossing his fingers against his thigh that Regulus can hear him. “Don’t do it, Regulus. I have it under control. Go home. I’ll be there soon.”

Regulus’ lips don’t move, but his frantic voice appears in James’ head. “What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing? You can’t take the fucking Dark Mark! You’re going to get yourself killed, you’re going to die- “ Reg’s voice breaks off and James watches his chest heave with a silent sob. 

“It’s alright, love. I have a plan. I can handle this. Let me do this for you, for Sirius, for Remus.”

The wand touches James’ skin and Regulus physically jumps. “No, no, no, no, no-“ he chants, voice so deafening and laden with panic that James has to resist the urge to clamp his hands over his ears. 

James is in Regulus’ head, so he knows what he’s going to do next. He knows that Regulus is going to run forward, shove James out of the way, and take the mark instead. That can’t happen. James can’t let that happen. 

“I’m sorry, love,” James says, thanking Filius Flitwick for making them spend an entire year mastering spells with the wand not directly in their hand. Voldemort’s voice rises and James grips his wand through his pocket, just barely breathing, “Petrificus Totalus”. 

Regulus’ body immediately stiffens, falling backward straight through the open door, which obscures his body. 

Voldemort’s spell finishes and his skin begins to burn and bubble. Fear spikes, but James swallows it. Sirius’ head thrown back in laughter. Reg’s secret smile.

Two boys made out of stars. He can’t let them go out. 

The pain sears across his skin and James feels nothing but peace.