I was hoping I’d get an excuse to write about my headcanon of Regulus having the voice of a fucking angel, so thank you very much anon. I’ve been thinking about how to write this lil fic ALL day and it ended up being waaaay longer than I planned, whoops. Enjoy!
James had never felt so betrayed before in his life as he kicked at the grass he was walking across, hands shoved into his pockets and head ducked as he made his way across the field of grass and down towards Black Lake. He was currently alone, which almost never happened, but for the next hour Peter, Remus, and Sirius were all serving detentions. James hadn’t even realized he was the odd man out until he was suddenly standing alone in the hall watching Sirius get dragged away towards the trophy hall, looking miserable. James had turned to quip at Remus how reckless Sirius was and “he should definitely follow my lead more”, but Remus wasn’t next to him, and neither was Peter. How was it James could be so used to having them next to him, he doesn’t even realize if they aren’t there, because where else would they possibly be?
So he had an hour to spare, sighing in boredom as he reached the edge of the lake and stared out over it, slouching his shoulders and trying to decide how to pass the time when an unexpected sound broke through the sound of the lake water lapping against the pebbles around James’ shoes. Music, he realized. Someone was singing, and it was such a smooth, haunting voice that James almost expected to see a ghost or a phantom. The voice singing was rich and made a shiver race down James’ back, distinctly male, and the lyrics were uttered like they were holy verses not meant for mortal ears.
James shuffled away from the edge of the lake, creeping as quietly as he could to the outcropping of trees that were hanging over the water, the roots twisted out of the ground and wrapping together, buried into the lake and deep into the bedrock below the surface of the water. The willow trees that had grown together had roots half in the water and half out, leaves and branches hanging like a veil to just brush the water and make it ripple. James did his best not to make a sound as he maneuvered over the protruding roots, climbing over them and reaching out to push aside the veil of hanging leaves so he could reach the closest tree trunk, then inched his way to the side, clinging to the bark as he peered around the wide trunk, stunned at who he found sitting there, hidden by the leaves and sitting on one of the large roots.
Regulus Black, of all people, was sitting with his heavy robes draped over the root next to him, leaving him in only his black trousers, shoes, white uniform button up shirt, and green and silver Slytherin tie that was hanging loosely around his neck. His sleeves had been folded back above his elbows, his bag sitting open at his feet and a book open on his lap, though he didn’t appear to be reading it. His black hair had been pushed out of his face and tied at the back of his head, though strands had fallen out of the tie and hung in front of his eyes, which seemed to be half closed. There was a rather small orange cat curled up on top of Regulus’ robes, the tip of its tail twitching and its eyes closed as it purred, lying against Regulus’ thigh as if listening to his voice; and he was singing.
James hadn’t spoken a word to Regulus since before the summer when Sirius had shown up at his door looking as if he’d been beaten within an inch of his life. It had been a while. James probably wouldn’t admit it out loud, especially to Sirius (he knew how sensitive a topic his family was), but James had been insanely worried about Regulus. If those people were willing to hurt Sirius the way they did, what was happening to Regulus now that his brother was gone? So he was rather pleased to see Regulus didn’t look unhealthy or injured in some way. In fact, James had never seen the younger Black look so relaxed before. Relaxed, yes, unharmed, fine, but the lyrics of the song he was singing as he turned the page in his book without looking at it hit James in a different way. Even while the melody was pleasant, the lyrics held a melancholy worthy of a Black, and it broke James’ heart.
He tried to look closer, shifting a bit, feeling his heel slip before his mind could register it, landing with a painful crash and grunting as he found himself somehow flipped, his legs tangled in tree roots, glasses falling off his face, robes flung around him. He was staring directly at Regulus, who’d stopped his serenade abruptly and was hugging his book to his chest with wide eyes locked on James as the ugly cat beside him hissed at the Gryffindor, who had elegantly slipped off his perch and was now lying on his back, halfway to being upside down, his head and back aching.
“Oh, um, hello there Regulus,” James greeted as casually as he could manage, offering a sheepish grin. “Fancy seeing you here, huh?”
Regulus scrambled onto his feet, grabbing his robes and his bag, shoving his book into his bag as the orange cat hopped gracefully off the root to follow as the Slytherin tried to put distance between himself and James, who was staggering and stumbling as he rolled onto his stomach and up onto his hands and knees.
“Wait! Hang on!” James was frantic as he lunged forward, grabbing Regulus by the arm before he could get through the veil of weeping willow leaves and branches, tugging him back a few steps before stopping as Regulus turned to give him a scalding glare.
For a moment James was frozen and unable to talk, he could still hear the sound of Regulus’ singing voice, the words burning into his brain like a hot iron leaving a permanent brand.
“What?!” Regulus yelled, and James blinked in response before managing to speak.
“I… I didn’t know you could sing.” Regulus looked even more annoyed, but his face had filled out with red from embarrassment and humiliation, ducking his head as if to make it easier. “I mean, Sirius can sing, super well in fact, but… I mean… this is a major compliment, but I think you’re even better than… him… you know?”
Regulus just glared at James. “Being compared to my brother isn’t a compliment, Potter.” He yanked his arm away from James’ grip, but didn’t leave the trees. In fact he stepped back over to the root he’d been sitting on before, dropping back onto it but not letting go of his things as the orange cat hopped up next to him, bumping its head into Regulus’ shoulder.
James motioned to it. “I didn’t know you had a cat.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Regulus said, watching the ginger cat prod onto his lap, essentially kicking off the robes and the bag before flopping down, ears flicking.
“When did you get him?”
“I found him a few months ago,” James was surprised he actually answered, watching Regulus scratch behind the cat’s ears. “He was lost in the snow, I found him when I was at Hogsmeade.”
“You rescued him then.”
“Yes.”
“That’s really nice,” was all James could manage to say, and Regulus cast him yet another glare, flinching noticeably when James walked closer, sitting down on a lifted root a few feet away from Regulus. “So… what was that song you were singing?”
“Sod off, Potter.”
“I’m just curious. I liked it. Did you write it?”
Regulus turned his head to seeth at James, but although he was glaring and looked like he wanted to strangle him, his cheeks were bright red, and for a moment James had to struggle against a smile as his eyes went from Regulus to the ginger cat in his arms, both of them bristling similarly. Regulus was acting like a scorned cat, and honestly, it was pretty cute.
“I told you to sod off. Where the hell are my brother and the rest of your stupid friends? Go bother them!”
“Wish I could, Reggie,” James said in a sigh, leaning back with his hands on either side of him and tilting his head. “Those three all have detentions, so I’m on my own for the next forty minutes.”
“How is that my problem?”
“You just happened to be here, not my fault,” James argued, noting the way Regulus tensed up, jaw setting as he turned his head away and scowled. James tried to ease into his next statement, stretching his arms up. “Not that I mind of course. I’d rather have run into you here than someone else. I never get to talk to you, being in different houses, you know? When’s the last time we had a chat, huh?”
Regulus looked dumbfounded. “Do you mean never?”
“We’ve talked before-”
“When?” Regulus interrupted, looking furious. “Name one time you’ve ever willingly stopped to hold a conversation with me. Go ahead, one time.”
James watched Regulus quietly for a moment, the way he was hugging the little ugly orange cat and curling forward like he felt he was being attacked, trying to protect the most vulnerable pieces of himself, like his heart. Regulus looked on edge and overly cautious, clearly not trusting James to be so close, and it made him realize just how much Regulus must be hurting.
“Why are you alone?” James found himself asking. “You’re not with friends on your free period?”
Regulus looked momentarily exhausted before turning his head down, reaching up to stroke the ugly cat’s head. “No.”
“Why not? Are they in detention too?”
“I don’t have friends,” Regulus blurted, then a look of shock lifted his face, like he couldn’t believe he’d actually said that out loud, pressing his lips tightly together and hunching his shoulders more.
James could only stare for a moment, shaking his head. “No, that’s not true. You’re the Slytherin Seeker, you’re famous, I’ve heard tons of people praise you and say how cool you are. There’s always someone next to you talking to you.”
Regulus just shook his head, staring at the ground. “Having people following me around wanting to be my friend because of status or name is different than actually having friends.”
James felt uneasy. “So you’re telling me you’ve been completely on your own for the past few years, without a single friend?”
“Friends have come and gone, once they’ve gotten their fill of my draining presence,” Regulus drawled maybe a little too dramatically, looking up at the green canopy, “and I wasn’t supposed to be alone…”
James felt something like guilt at that last statement, seeing through the vague and unspoken truth that Regulus hadn’t actually said. He was never planning to be alone when he came to Hogwarts, that had never been the plan. He was supposed to have Sirius in Slytherin house with him. James felt guilty, because even if Regulus was in Slytherin house, he was still Sirius’ brother, and James loved Sirius, so why didn’t he try to help Regulus sooner?
It would have been only natural, right? James, Peter, and Remus were all only children. That made Regulus special in their little quartet. He was the designated little brother, but James had been so blinded by Sirius’ own resentment towards his parents, that he didn’t even realize Sirius wasn’t the only one being hurt by them. Maybe if he’d reached out sooner to Regulus, taken him in like he’d taken Sirius when they first met on the train, maybe things would be different. Regulus wouldn’t be sitting by himself under the willows singing a broken song about loneliness and love.
James stood up and shuffled closer to Regulus, who froze up but didn’t protest as James plopped down next to him, their shoulders touching. Regulus seemed to be watching him suspiciously, one hand close to the wand sticking out of his pocket, like he was preparing to hex or stun James if he did something threatening. That was something else, that defensive reflex as if Regulus was simply used to people turning on him.
“What book were you reading?” James asked, leaning down to pull the book out of Regulus’ bag, noting the etching of a broom sewn into the cloth cover and feeling over the title: Brooms over the Centuries. “Oh this is wicked! Is it like a history book of brooms?”
“That is what the title might suggest,” Regulus mumbled in irritation, but he moved his hand away from his wand to instead wrap his arm back around the orange cat, who was watching James with an ugly face and wide eyes.
Despite how irritated inconvenienced he acted, after a moment of flipping through the pages in the book and making notes on how cool the brooms were, Regulus ended up leaning towards James, so close their faces were nearly touching as Regulus clung to James’ arm and pointed out the moving illustrations and gave narrative of each one, clearing having already memorized the book.
“In the beginning witches and wizards didn’t have brooms, they just used tree branches to fly, but it was dangerous and not very accurate, so after some experimentation they came to the conclusion that adding broom tails to the backs actually made it easier to navigate in the sky.” Regulus was pointing at a diagram on the page of how a basic broom was made, and James snickered.
“Can you even imagine trying to play Quidditch with just a tree branch?”
“People think it’s a dangerous game now,” Regulus said in amusement, and laughed at his own joke as James laughed with him.
“Merlin, these old brooms look so dumb, but I can’t help but want one! I’ll hang it on my wall with all my Quidditch stuff!”
“I think they’re opening a broom museum in Northern Ireland,” Regulus said, reaching into his bag as James gaped at him.
“No way, really?!”
“Yeah, I read it in Quidditch Weekly.” Regulus sat straighter with a magazine in hand, flipping it open to the page where an article was detailing the opening of a new Museum dedicated to flying brooms, with a sub section dedicated to Quidditch.
“Oh man, we have go!” James said in excitement. “When does it open?”
He didn’t realize he’d said the wrong thing until he realized Regulus wasn’t answering, tearing his eyes from the magazine and instead looking at the drawn expression on the Slytherin’s face, like he was waking up from a dream, blinking his silvery eyes and furrowing his brow. Like he hadn’t even noticed he’d been having such easy conversation with James.
James took a slow breath before smiling, shutting the book on his lap. “Regulus.”
The younger boy blinked and turned to look at James, who hesitated and noted they were still close, shoulders pressing together and faces inches apart. Close enough that James could see the ivory of Regulus’ skin blemished by splotches of red and tanned sections that he never would have noticed from a distance. From a distance Regulus looked like porcelain, like an invaluable doll, untouchable and perfect and unblemished, but this close James could see tiny imperfections that made him seem so much more human. The tiny spots of sunburn, the tan on his cheeks and forehead, tiny scars near his lips and peeking out of the pitch black of his eyebrows from one too many Quidditch injuries to the face (and maybe one or two hexes). Regulus’ eyes were piercing grey and silver, but the left eye seemed to be a fraction of a shade darker than the right. They were lighter than Sirius’ eyes, James realized. Even his hair somehow looked different. While Sirius kept his somewhat wild and untamed, Regulus’ looked soft and silky and reflected against the sun that filtered through the leaves.
“Can you sing that song?” James asked on a breath, blurting it out when he decided he’d been staring for too long. Regulus looked immediately uncomfortable, so James reached out to grab one of his hands, not even paying attention to how he squeezed his fingers as he kept eye contact with the younger Black. “Please. I want to hear you sing again.”
Regulus seemed to consider it, lips parting to take in a sharp inhale before it caught in his throat, eyes going wide when another familiar voice sounded.
“Prongs, you down here?!” Sirius, just beyond the veil of leaves, down by the lake edge with Remus and Peter. “Mar says she saw you shuffle down here, you better not be planning to jump out at us!”
James met Regulus’ eye, feeling something akin to loneliness as the Slytherin shoved his things into his bag and stumbled frantically over the roots, the opposite direction of Sirius and the others. James yanked his wand out as he reached out to grab Regulus by his wrist, holding his wand up and quickly uttering a silencing spell to muffle his voice from his friends, leaning towards Regulus so their foreheads were touching.
“Later, you have to promise. You’ll sing that song for me later. Promise?”
Regulus looked frightened and hopeful at the same time, looking over James’ shoulder before meeting his eye and nodding, then turned and pulled out of his grip, disappearing through the hanging leaves.
James slowly lowered his wand, turning sluggishly and pausing when he caught sight of the ugly orange cat still perched on the root of the tree. “Watch after him for me, yeah?”
The cat flicked its tail and hopped off the root to follow Regulus, and James took a breath, turning to join his friends but unable to think of anything that wasn’t the hauntingly beautiful sound of Regulus’ song.
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if u are still taking prompts can u do 54. “How long have you been standing there?” With jegulus????
54. “How long have you been standing there?”
This was reaaaaally fun to write eheheheheh~
Regulus had seen some pretty bizarre stuff in his years at Hogwarts. Things he couldn’t explain, things he understood but just couldn’t mentally deal with because of how truly absurd it was, things he simply ignored because he didn’t have the time or energy to deal with it. He’d walked in on Severus Snape in the Slytherin boy’s lavatory sitting in the corner ugly crying with a brush in one hand and wand in the other, his hair a nest of actual rats (likely aftermath of a hex). He’d witnessed his brother splashing into black lake screaming he wasn’t coming back until he’d married a mermaid, while Peter clung to his waist begging him not to, James laughing his ass off on the shore as Remus stood beside him with an open book lifted in front of his face to make it easier to ignore his foolish friends. He’d even accidentally walked up on Professor McGonogall and Professor Dumbledore in a heated discussion about what sounded like love.
“It’s Black, Minnie dear, trust me, I know these things.”
“Absurd! It’s Evans!”
“Thirty Galleons as agreed, Minnie.”
Regulus didn’t know what the hell they’d been talking about or what they were betting on, but he did remember how adamantly McGonogall had refused to pay without “concrete proof”. Whatever that meant.
Bottom line, Regulus had seen and been witness to many strange occurrences, but through the years he’d come to just accept the oddities. It was a day to day normality when your older brother was Sirius Black, who smuggled weird Muggle crap into Grimmauld Place and spent his summers locked into his room reading magazines with pictures that didn’t even move. If anything was weird, it was his obsession with “motorbikes”, whatever the hell those were.
Still, this would definitely be strange enough to add onto Regulus’ list of weird happenings. It was just after curfew, Regulus was walking along the hall that lead to the stairs towards the Gryffindor common room, Prefect badge in view so teachers wouldn’t think he was breaking any rules (he was just doing his job). Standing in the middle of the hall was James Potter, who was positioned in front of a glass display case holding Quidditch memorabilia. At first Regulus thought he was just admiring what was there, until the older boy leaned closer to the glass, squinting and grinning his teeth, lifting a hand to pick something from between them, then turned his head and wiped at a smudge of dirt or chocolate on his cheek. He then bowed his head, eyes lifted to watch his reflection as he ran his fingers up into the untamed fringe of dark hair.
Regulus had absolutely no idea what the idiot was doing. Normal people would go to an actual mirror to freshen up, but James seemed fully satisfied in admiring his reflection in the glass display case, standing straight and fixing his tie where his Head Boy pin was secured into it, smoothing a hand down the front of his white button up to wipe away the wrinkles, then fidgeted with the buttons of his sleeves, folding them back to show off his forearms and the muscles built up from years of Quidditch. He has nice arms, Regulus thought in passing, watching with squinted, still confused eyes as James lifted a hand to rub roughly at his jaw. Regulus was close enough to note the shadow on his face. Was James already old enough to be getting stubble like that?
“Should I come back later and give you two some privacy?” Regulus asked on a drawl, finally interrupting James, who jerked so violently to the side it looked like someone had cursed him.
“Mother of Merlin’s bloody bitch!” the Gryffindor screamed, hugging the wall and gaping over at Regulus with wide, startled eyes. Regulus couldn’t control the snort, lifting a hand to his mouth to hide the smile as he dipped forward a little and James glared at him. “How long have you been standing there?!”
“Long enough, I imagine,” Regulus snickered, looking off to the side and rubbing the back of his hand over his lips to force the smile off his face, then looked back at James, who looked like a deer caught in the headlights (whatever headlights were, Sirius used that expression a lot). “What are you doing, exactly? I wasn’t aware that admiring one’s reflection was part of your Head Boy duties.”
James’ entire face went dark red and he stepped away from the wall, lifting a fist to cough into before setting both hands on his hips. “Of course! It’s important to observe everything as Head Boy!”
“Including yourself?”
“Exactly!”
“You know you can’t fool around like that with me, right?” Regulus arched an eyebrow and James seemed to deflate, lifting a hand to ruffle the back of his hair, one corner of his lips curling into an awkward grin that had Regulus staring. He had a lot of smile lines in his face. James looked… older, suddenly, now that Regulus was looking. When had that happened?
“Ah, I’m man enough to admit I admire myself, Reg,” James said, looking back at his reflection and snapping his fingers before pointing charmingly at the glass with two finger guns. “I’m just wise enough to pick up on the aesthetic. It’s important to admire beautiful things, isn’t it?”
Regulus just squinted at James. “I think you’ve busted your head one too many times, Potter.”
“What, you don’t think I’m hot?”
“Is it a requirement to answer?”
James strode towards Regulus unexpectedly, and Regulus backed up, startled, until his shoulders hit the sturdy stone wall and James was hovering over him. Had he always been this tall? Or was Regulus just smaller than he thought? James had a smouldering smile on his face that Regulus had heard girls squeak over before, and suddenly he felt very on edge, his fight or flight response making his fingers tingle as James leaned closer.
“Absolutely,” James said, and for a minute Regulus forgot what question he was answering. “As Head Boy, I can give points, but I can also take them away you know. Depending on your answer, maybe I’ll give you five or ten, yeah?”
“You’re bribing me, are you?” Regulus narrowed his eyes dangerously as James continued to grin. This idiot had gotten unbearably cocky this year alone, what was his problem? Regulus wanted to knock him down a peg or two, but what was he supposed to say to rattle the idiot? What was the best way to startle a Gryffindor who was a little too in love with himself? Regulus tried not to smirk as he purposely raked his eyes over James, from head to shoe and back up, taking his time and twisting his face into a scrutinizing stare that did its job as James went rigid, looking uncomfortable.
Regulus had to admit, James wasn’t bad looking, and it looked like he could potentially crush Regulus just with his arms, which was admittedly a little impressive. His clothes seemed to fit him better, the black pants and belt with the white button up that was only half tucked into the waist of his uniform pants, and the red and gold tie that was snug around his neck. It looked odd like that, not at all the style Regulus expected to see on James Potter.
He reached up slowly and James went rigid, eyes locked with Regulus’ and smile gone as Regulus took hold of the tie knot under his chin, hooking his fingers and tugging once to loosen it a bit, then tugged at the first button on the collar of James’ shirt, flicking the collar open before dropping his hand to his side, not moving his eyes from James’ even once.
“There,” he said, and James’ brow twitched just enough to show his confusion as Regulus moved his gaze to the now visible column of James’ throat. “Not that I’m one to objectify people, but if you want a compliment, you should probably earn it.” Regulus met his eye again, lifting his chin in a haughty air people had come to recognize from him, though normally it was just a ploy to hide insecurity. “But you know, Potter… I’m more inclined to think I’m a little better looking than you. Black genes and all. It runs in my blood.”
“What does?” James asked, and Regulus had to note the almost drunk drawl to his voice.
He lifted a hand, tucking his fingers into the side of his own black hair and tilting his head into his hand, grinning at James, who looked completely out of it. “Aesthetic.”
The last thing he expected was for James to close in on him, hands pressing flat to the wall on either side of Regulus, pinning him there with his chest as their face came inches from touching. Regulus was startled, but somehow able to keep his steely composure as he narrowed his eyes almost daring James to do something. He looked completely at ease and unaffected by the sudden closeness, but under his chest, his heart was racing. They were close enough that Regulus could see when James’ pupils expanded, as if he was staring at something he wanted, something he was hungry for.
It was elating to realize what he wanted was Regulus. He felt powerful for a moment, even if this was a fluke and would never happen again. Regulus wanted to see how far James would go. All he had to do was look down, flick his eyes to James’ mouth, and suddenly the heat was on him, their lips crushing together. Regulus pinched his eyes closed and gasped at the tongue prying between the seam of his mouth, hot and deep and making his entire body feel like air. Regulus dug his hands into the wall to keep from touching James, though he wanted to, so badly, to run his hands along his chest and feel the muscle in his arm. He didn’t, because this wasn’t passion, this was just a game, and Regulus intended on winning.
When James pulled away, his eyes were dark with something mature and indecent, but Regulus just lifted a hand, swiping his thumb across his lips as if he was cleaning a meal from his mouth, staring at James through his eyelashes.
“How many points does that get me, Mister Head Boy?” he asked, and James blinked, cheeks red and hot, opening and closing his mouth before muttering.
“Fifty points to Slytherin…”
“Thank you very much,” Regulus smiled slyly, passing James and reaching out to drag a teasing hand across his side as he passed, grinning at the Gryffindor from over his shoulder. “Nice doing business with you.”
And with that he continued on his corridor towards Slytherin common room, trying his hardest to forget the kiss, though James made it incredibly difficult when the next morning he still looked starry eyed and for some reason wouldn’t let anyone fix the tie that was crooked and loose on his neck.
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Ya’ll really are angsty today huh? Whatever butters your biscuits I guess, here ya go:
The color black wasn’t supposed to frighten Regulus, considering what his surname was. The very prospect of being afraid of the dark was just absurd, but after everything he’d been through, he just couldn’t handle it. The lights flickering off, being outside at night, even shutting his eyes to rest. His heart rate would pick up, his breathing would hitch in his throat. He couldn’t help it. It was the feelings he got when he was asleep, lingering memories of what his fear felt like as his nails broke against rough stone while sharp, bony fingers tore the material of his pants and clawed gashes into his legs, biting into his back and curling around his throat to drag him into the pitch of the water in the Horcrux cave.
Fast asleep where he should have been regaining energy lost during the day, he was stuck in flashes of memories like shattered pieces of glass, incomplete sections of his life that would reenter his mind, remembering fear, loneliness, the feeling of being abandoned by the only people he cared about. Nightmares were never clear cut, never a single scene from his memories, but pieces of his past roughly cut out and stitched back into a film reel to play a sequence of scenes from different moments in his life. The ones that damaged him enough to find a permanent place in his fucked up mind.
The first time Sirius stood in front of him to protect him from their mother’s anger. The day Regulus walked into the living room to ask his father to play since Sirius was at Hogwarts only for the man to yank the book from Regulus’ hands and throw it into the fire before yelling at him to get out. The pain from his mother pointing a wand at him and spitting a curse the day after Sirius had run away. The expression on Sirius’ face, the sneer and disgust and hate, when Regulus looked him in the eye and called Remus Lupin a half breed muddy blooded bastard who didn’t deserve to be in Hogwarts at all. He remembered the pressure of his fingers against the wood of his parent’s dining room table as Bellatrix and her new husband pinned him against it, holding his arm out as a man with red eyes dug the end of a white wand into his arm and hissed a spell that weaved into his flesh, black and cloudy and squirming on his forearm until it solidified under his skin as a dark mark while his parents stood on the other side of the table watching with waxy smiles on their faces.
“I don’t want this,” Regulus heard his own voice echo in his mind, but he knew that when this happened he said nothing. He could feel how tightly his lips were pressed together as he watched through squinted eyes as the dark mark wriggled on his arm, his blood pounding in his ears and his fingers curled into a fist as the Dark Lord gripped his wrist in a painful hold, fingers icy cold, nails digging into the skin of his wrist.
The scene flashed a few more times, Regulus was standing on ancient cobbled streets, Death Eater mask in his hand and hood up as he peered through the pouring rain at Sirius, who stood across the street with wand raised, eyes wide in horror, like he couldn’t believe he was looking at his brother. Regulus remembered waiting for Sirius to spit a curse, to kill him, Regulus remembered how much he’d wanted that, how he stood there patiently, not reaching for his own wand to defend himself, yearning for his older brother to yell the killing curse and end his suffering.
“Do it. For me.” Regulus remembered whispering, though Sirius couldn’t have heard him through the roar of the rain. “You’ve never done a thing for me in my life. So do this. This one thing. Kill me, Sirius.”
Sirius had lowered his wand, turned, and disapparated away, leaving Regulus alone in the downpour to shut his eyes and place the Death Eater mask back over his face.
Regulus’ throat was burning, his lungs aching, he couldn’t seem to breathe in correctly. His legs felt constricted and his head cushioned on something that felt unrealistically soft. It was all so dark, so cold, so black, so empty and lonely. Then he felt something warm cup his cheeks, and a distant voice not from his memories whispering, fingers caressing through his hair as the same voice soothed him.
It took time for Regulus to force open his eyes, staring blearily up at the ceiling as his chest heaved and he struggled to breathe, cheeks wet and eyes blurry from tears. He felt an arm curled around behind him, under him, holding him by his shoulders, a hand holding his face as his body was rocked gently. When he’d finally calmed down enough to pick up where he was, Regulus recognized the bedroom he’d been sharing with his lover, who was currently cradling him. Regulus had somehow wound one of his arms around James, fingers twisted almost painfully into the back of the shirt he’d worn to sleep, one an offensive shade of bright red with gold accents. The very opposite of black.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” James was cooing to Regulus, lifting him up so Regulus could bury his face into his boyfriend’s shoulder, breathing in his scent as a hand carded through his sweat heavy hair. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”
Regulus shut his eyes, winding both of his arms behind James, locking them around the older man beneath his arms so James could easily cradle Regulus against his chest, one hand rubbing his back as he continued to sooth him with soft words of reassurance and promise. James Potter, of all people. That’s who Regulus was in a relationship with. Against all odds, after all the suffering, the war, all his flaws and damage, for some reason James chose him. Regulus gave a shaky sighed, relaxing fully against James, who continued to rock back and forth, pressing a tender kiss to Regulus’ temple.
“Another nightmare?” Regulus nodded weakly and James pet his hair down. “It’s over now, you’re alright.” He pulled away just so he could cup his hands on either side of Regulus’ face, putting their foreheads together. “Alright, love?” Regulus nodded again and James kissed him tenderly on the lips, leading Regulus to lie back down with him, though he kept him cradled to his chest. “Try to sleep, alright? I’m right here. I won’t leave you.”
Regulus was too tired to reply, nuzzling back into James’ chest, focusing his eyes on the color of red and gold that James was so proud of, shutting his eyes only when he was certain red and gold would be the only thing he could see.
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It had started with a smile, when Regulus was fifteen and had seen millions of smiles in his lifetime already. He knew what they looked like, what they were supposed to look like, but he couldn’t remember the last time a smile was directed at him. Until fifteen after a game against Gryffindor, Snitch still held in his fist as his chest heaved to bring oxygen back into his lungs, shouldering his way through the crowd and ignoring the scowls of distaste aimed at him from the Gryffindor team and their supporters.
“Good game, Black,” a familiar voice praised, and Regulus paused on his way into the Slytherin lockers, turning to look over his shoulder at James, who was standing there in all his Gryffindor glory, still in his Quidditch robes with his broom propped on his shoulder, glasses slipping down his nose and bangs sticking up from the sweat on his brow.
“Can’t say the same,” Regulus responded dryly, narrowing his eyes and sweeping them from left to right, searching for his brother or one of the other two idiots who would be on James like a moth to flame the moment the game would end. He seemed to be alone, though, having snuck off while the crowds were still cursing and cheering, as if to purposely cut Regulus off before he could get into the lockers. “What is it you want?”
“What? I can’t congratulate you on a good game? You beat us into the ground out there!”
“I didn’t do any of that,” Regulus noted, lifting up his left hand where the golden snitch was fluttering between his fingers. “All I did was get this before your useless Seeker could.”
“Ouch.” James lifted a hand to his chest, sticking his lip into a pout. “That hurts.”
“Think I care?” Regulus asked, turning his head away to wipe the back of his arm over his mouth and clean off the sweat, glaring at James from the corner of his eyes as the Chaser merely stood there looking a little too happy with himself. “Sod off, Potter.”
“What for? I thought we could talk. I was interested is all.”
“In what?”
“Seeking.” James waved a hand at Regulus and the Snitch in his hand. “You know, watching you play and all, makes me interested in what you do. As a Seeker I mean. You know?” Then he smiled, one corner of his lips lifting higher than the other in something that replicated that mischievous grin he would sport when he was doing something devious, yet in his eyes was a tenderness and fire Regulus hadn’t seen before.
Regulus just stared at James, feeling confused but keeping that confusion off his face the best he could, unable to speak for a moment because of that damn smile, swallowing around the knot in his throat and furrowing his brow against the warmth spreading through his chest.
“Maybe you can teach me something sometime,” James continued when Regulus was silent for a full minute, that endearing smile still on his lips that made Regulus feel so out of place. “Just you and me, you know? I can sneak us out of the castle whenever.”
“How?” Regulus found himself asking, and James smiled more, winking.
“Well now, that’s the secret, isn’t it?”
Regulus picked up on it finally, the teasing note to his tone, but Regulus couldn’t figure out if it was gentle teasing or cruel. The idea that James was asking him to train together for no other purpose than to be cruel or play a prank made Regulus feel so emotionally exhausted he wanted to sit down then and there to sleep. Yet that smile on James Potter’s face seemed… genuine.
Regulus lifted the Snitch once more, looking at it with a hum. “You want to learn some Seeker secrets then, huh?” His eyes flicked to James, and he opened his hand, letting the Snitch hover and zigzag in front of his face a few times. “How about this, then. Catch this Snitch, and I’ll consider it.”
James pointed at himself looking like a true idiot, and Regulus turned, pushing a hand through his hair to get his bangs out of his eyes.
“Chasers chase things. Seekers catch them. Think you can do both?”
James didn’t move his eyes from Regulus, who let his lips curl into a smirk as the Snitch zipped towards the Gryffindor. The smile faded instantly when James shot his hand out, not moving his eyes from Regulus even once as he grabbed the Snitch out of the air as it tried to fly past him, blinking a few times before looking down at it, then at Regulus, smiling.
“How about we meet near the trophies tonight after midnight?” he asked, and Regulus felt himself bristle as his cheeks went red, spinning on his heel and storming into the lockers without a look back at James.
It started with that smile he gave Regulus, who was too dim, maybe too sheltered and ignorant to realize the infamous Gryffindor James Potter had been flirting with him. It seemed so wrong to start meeting him at midnight under the pretense of training when three sessions of this found them snogging under the quarter moon, brooms forgotten on the pitch as Regulus memorized the taste of James’ lips and the feeling of fingers tangling in his hair. The secret rendezvous in the Astronomy Tower, the lingering eye contact from across the Great Hall during mealtimes, the way they would lean towards each other and bump shoulders in the hallway when they passed each other, fingers brushing and pulling away before anyone could notice.
“Does Sirius know you’re doing this?” Regulus asked one night, head pressed to the stone wall to stare into James’ eyes as the older boy caged him there with his arms.
“No,” was the soft response, and Regulus felt something jump in his chest.
Fear that they were doing this, they shouldn’t have been doing this, they were both men, and Sirius didn’t know. What was James thinking? Flirting with Regulus so obviously but keeping it from his friends?
“Do they know where you sneak off to at night?”
“They don’t know I sneak off,” James explained, his forehead brushing against Regulus’. “It’s fine, though.”
“Why don’t you tell Sirius?”
James looked sheepish and ashamed. “You’re his brother.”
“You think he would give a damn?” Regulus snapped, and James furrowed his brow. “If anything he’d be angry at me for being the one to seduce you and contaminate you. All hell would break loose, don’t you get it?” He glared at James, then ducked his head and tried to get away from him. “This ends here. Whatever you’re doing, for whatever reason, it stops now.”
“No!” James grabbed Regulus by the shoulders, turning him so they were looking at each other again. He looked frantic, and Regulus couldn’t control the racing in his chest.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked slowly. “With me? When you could have anyone?”
James laughed at that, shaking his head. “Don’t you know anything about Chasers?” He lifted a hand to Regulus’ face, thumb sliding under his eye, giving him that same tender smile. “They only go after the best.”
That smile that Regulus couldn’t say no to started this, and a letter is what ended it.
James surely didn’t mean anything by it, sending Regulus an owl to him the summer after they had started seeing each other. A letter filled with sweet nothings and “I miss you”s, jokes and recounts of how Sirius was doing, because “I know you still care, Reg.” It was at the end, the “I miss you, I miss seeing your face and your smile, and the way your eyes catch the moon when we’re up in the tower. I miss everything about you, this summer can’t end soon enough. Please, just consider it. Consider running away. I’ll protect you. Just come to my house. I’ll protect you, Regulus. You don’t have to stay there and suffer alone. Sirius will be happy if you come. We can be together if you come. I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise.”
It seemed so simple, and Regulus hid it under his pillow, thought about the consequences of running away like Sirius had done, snuck out of his bedroom and into his brother’s to sit on the bed and stare at the walls, clinging to one of his old Gryffindor jersey’s. He missed Sirius. He missed James. Would it be alright? If he ran away to the Potter’s, would Sirius be mad that he and James had been seeing each other before now? James did mean it, didn’t he? He must. Regulus was sure of it.
But that letter was the end of it, the start of his mother screaming, drawing him out of Sirius’ old room to find Walburga standing just outside his bedroom, letter crumpled in her hand, eyes wide and black, locked on Regulus like a hunter locked on prey.
Regulus remembered little of that night, aside from the threats against James and Sirius, how his father snarled with wand in hand that he would go to the Potter’s then and there and drag Sirius back for punishment, that James wouldn’t live to see his next year at Hogwarts. Walburga seethed, tearing the letter to shreds and throwing a slap across Regulus’ face, screaming obscenities that Regulus couldn’t hear through his ringing ears, though he heard the hesitation before a familiar curse tumbled from his mother’s lips and pain coursed through him.
Regulus was tired.
“Regulus!” that voice again, Regulus paused in his steps towards Slytherin common room, turning to watch James, the first time he’d seen him since summer started. “Hey! Didn’t you get my letter? I thought you’d come.” James grabbed his hand when he was close enough, Regulus instinctively looked over his shoulder, but again his three friends were absent. “Reg, did something happen this summer? You didn’t write me once, you said you would. I got worried-”
“What for?” Regulus asked, staring at James and willing any emotion away from his face. “Why would I write? You really thought I was being serious?” He twisted his hand away from James before he could feel the scars still healing, turning so his glare was fully on James. “Playing with you last year was fun and all, but it’s gotten boring. Do me a favor and leave me alone, would you?”
James looked truly taken aback, and Regulus himself was stunned at how hurt he seemed. “What… playing, what are you talking about? I thought, I mean, last year-”
Regulus laughed. “What? Potter, don’t tell me you actually thought I liked you?” The way James’ face went red told Regulus all he needed to know, and he started to shake from pain at the way he sneered. He didn’t want to do this, but seeing James hurt…
“Re-”
“Don’t you get it? You could be the best Chaser in the world and you wouldn’t be able to catch me. You’re a fool.” Regulus lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes with a scoff, making a show of wiping his hand on his robes as if to get the sensation of James’ touch off, as if James was disgusting. “I was only pretending.”
Then he turned, before James could say anything in response, not wanting to stare at his broken eyes any longer than he had to and walking down the hall as fast as he could without looking suspicious. Regulus had only turned one corner when the tears started to blind him, bumping into people and rushing with his head down as he lifted his hand to his face, teeth grit. His mother would hurt all of them if Regulus didn’t stay away. Even if all he wanted to do was move closer to James, he had to put distance between them. To protect him, and Sirius. That’s all he wanted was to protect them, even if he had to hurt in penance for that.
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Notes: Aaaaand somehow that anon showing interest in this fic managed to motivate me into finishing this chapter and edit enough to post! I also went through the other three chapters and cleaned them up, fixed some basic misspellings, capitalized a bunch of words, and cleaned up punctuation in the dialogue (my BIGGEST weakness, turns out, is punctuation with my dialogue, I fucking suck at it). We’re still not into the main plot of the story, but we’re getting close! Honestly I need to find someone to talk to about my plans for this story, because that always helps motivate me and helps me solidify the story I’m writing. I know how this story ends at least, and I can promise it is a HAPPY ending. Just takes a bit to get there, be aware of the ratings. Anyway yea, I’m enjoying writing with Dad!James and Regulus honestly, I need to hurry and work on chapter 5 lolz. Thank you everyone for being patient with me!
Notes: Finally updated my Jegulus fic on Ao3. I had this one done for a while but I didn’t want to post it until I had chapter 4 written, but I haven’t updated anything in a bit cuz I’ve been working on @jeddyfest fics, so I decided I might as well prove I’m still writing stuff. This is honestly turning out to be a pretty ambitious fic and I hope I can write it the way I want, and that the rest of the people who ship Jegulus can enjoy it. We are a very small ship after all, we deserve good content and I so hope I deliver.
Chapter Excerpt Under the Cut:
Remus had always been the brains of their group, but he could only shake his head when asked if he knew what a Horcrux was, looking confused. It changed to an expression of muted shock when they sat down and discussed the rest of what had taken place: Regulus Black being revealed to be alive.
"And Dumbledore had absolutely no answers for you?" Remus asked Sirius, who shook his head, eyes downcast, then at James, "Regulus didn't hint what happened to him even a little?"
"No," James sighed, he had Harry in his arms, sitting on his lap and bouncing him on his knee as his son clung to a stuffed dog, "The situation is suspicious enough without Regulus being at the center of it, but under the consideration that he was dead until this morning..."
"It just makes things harder to grasp and a million times more complicated," Remus nodded, "and he didn't say a thing about it either?"
"Aside from making it significantly clear he wanted to be left alone?" James clarified, "No."
"Dumbledore used his former position as a death eater to grasp the upper hand and twist him to agree to what he wanted," Sirius explained, looking annoyed, "I hate the little prick, but..."
"Sirius don't say that," Remus chided, "He's your brother, and maybe he made a few mistakes, but that doesn't change the fact he's all you have."
"Not true, I have you and James."
"Sirius you thought he was dead," Remus said slowly, "Now if you're going to sit there and tell me with a straight face that this doesn't effect you at all-."
"That's the plan, Moons."
"Alright," James rolled his eyes, "I understand Sirius' suspicion, because he was a death eater, we can't ignore that, but he also defected, a long time before anyone else did. He defied the dark lord before anyone; Regulus was the first to turn against him."
"Not that the snake knew," Sirius reminded, and Remus added his input.
"Self preservation is a Slytherin trait."
"So is cowardice."
"How much of a coward is he if he turned against the most dangerous wizard of the age?" James asked, then looked from Sirius to Remus, "I think I trust him."
"Well great, cuz you're going to be rooming with him for a while!" Sirius threw his arms above his head, and James sighed with another roll of his eyes.
"Sirius if the wards are as strong as you say, maybe it would do some good?" Remus offered, "It's barely been a year, but James is still winded from simple tasks, he's been stressed and on edge, and we can only help so much with Harry. It might be good for him to be somewhere that's actually safe, that no one knows about, where he doesn't have to worry about death eaters hunting him down for revenge."
"Moony I'm right here."
"Yes, better he stay hidden from death eaters," Sirius quickly rebutted, "by staying in the same house as a bloody death eater. Flawless plan."
"Pads-."
"I'm just saying, if Dumbledore thinks he's still in danger-."
"- but Volde-twat is dead-."
"- doesn't matter, you heard Dumbledore-."
"- Dumbledore this and that, just marry him if you like him so much!"
"- he could come back to power-!"
"- and my mother could marry a muggle-!"
"- Harry is in danger as well-!"
"The dark wizards won't touch anyone unless it's over my dead body-!"
"GUYS!" James yelled, and two sets of startled eyes moved to him, "I am right here!"
Songs that remind me of Jegulus/Seekerchaser and their love for each other!
But a very fair warning: some of these are just depressing because no matter how I try to swing it, James and Regulus are a tragedy sadder than Romeo and Juliet and I wanna cry forever. Rose-Colored Boy is a huge favorite though <3 poor Regulus just glaring at James with this song playing, thank you.
