18 months after Regulus dies, James dreams.
August 27th, 1980. 22:20
James Potter went to bed like he always did. First he made tea, then he changed into his sleeping clothes, then he brushed his teeth and took his pills, then he turned off his bedroom light. He always slept silent, dreamless. Every night was the same, repeating and repeating and repeating for 499 days. On the 500th day he did the same. He turned his light off and closed his eyes. At 1 o’clock in the morning he woke up. James was groggy and didn’t understand why his clock read 1:03 when he never woke up before 6. A memory flashed in his mind. A boy with wavy black hair and piercing grey eyes stood before him, a hand reaching out. James hadn’t seen such a clear view of Regulus Black for 503 days. Since Regulus disappeared. Since his photo in the newspaper became engraved in his brain 2 days later. Since Regulus drowned miles away and James couldn’t do anything to bring him back. James let out a choked gasp and yanked at his chest, the fabric cold against his sweaty palms.
“Regulus,” James whispered in exhale, afraid if he spoke too loud the image he saw would fade away from his memory.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
James started to dream. The dreams came sparingly at first, but once a week turned into a few times, then a full month later James dreamt every night. And everytime he would wake up the same. A cold sweat, a breath of a name on his lips as he sat upright, tears, and then a restless sleep. He would pinch himself when he woke up, hoping that the dreams were the reality, not the one he was living in. The dream version of Regulus was an apparition. Always kinder than the real one, sometimes he would smile and talk softly –James never remembered what he would say– but sometimes, the worst times, Regulus would beg. He would be screaming for help, or writhing on the ground in pain, or pleading for James to help him. But everytime James tried to get close, he would dissolve into dust. James remembered those dreams the most, he hated them.
James didn’t realise how much brighter the apparition version of Regulus was getting until he was softly glowing, too similar to a patronus. The following night, a small black cat with an unmistakable white streak across its belly showed up. The patronus of Regulus was one he knew too well, as his own patronus became the same, before he–. James stopped. The cat came close to him, rubbing against James’ bare legs, not disappearing. His whole body felt light and warm and James found himself smiling. The feeling felt so foreign he became too conscious for a dream. Regulus’ cat began to walk away, looking back as if to see if James was following– so he did.
