Chapter Text
"Potter?" Barty called, after endless minutes.
He blinked, distracted. "Yes?"
"Regulus' room is the last door on the second floor." James' heart missed two beats.
Regulus noticed him in the hall, sighing loudly as he closed the door slowly. James stood in front of the door, a few steps away from Regulus but not able to look at him as his attention focused on the door drawn with little stars.
"Did he—Did he sleep?" It was the first thing he said.
"Yes," Regulus swallowed, leaning his head against the door and looking at James from under his thick lashes.
James closed his eyes,touching on the opposite wall.
"How— Why? I just need you to answer this, Regulus." He desperately needed to grab onto something.
He was so confused. Why would Regulus do something like that?
James has always dreamed of being a father. He would be a good father, wouldn't he? He would cry out to whatever God was listening that he did.
Did Regulus know he would be a good father? Was he not enough?
"James," Regulus no he was crying, but his voice seemed blocked, there was a time when he would put the world at his feet so that Regulus wouldn't feel the least bit bad.
But now, seeing him like this, it had such a distinct feeling, as if the person you were going to be shot for was shooting at you.
"You're not even going to try to explain?"
"It won't change anything."
Did Regulus really believe that?
James chuckled, completely without humor, without an ounce of happiness. She'd already been drained from him once, it wasn't hard to wring what little satisfaction in life he still had.
"Leave it," Regulus gulped, dreading what he knew he would ask. "Let me see him?"
"He is sleeping."
Who was this? James didn't know anymore, because surely this merciless Regulus staring at him wasn't the same one he fell in love with.
"Put yourself in my shoes, Reggie." His voice was almost pleading.
The other man seems to gain some sense as he slides his hand over the doorknob and opens the door, leaving it wide open for James to enter as he stands in the frame, completely tense. He was so scared, James desperately wanted to know who.
The room Regulus spent his summers in at Alphard in his youth was exactly as James had imagined. Tall shelves, crammed with books and journals that Regulus kept for years, polaroid photos tacked to the wall above the big bed withsweet oak. But Harry's presence was also there, although James knew they didn't live here, he knew that Alphard had a very strong bond with his nephews. Always stealing something from their bags so they had to go back for it.
There was a stuffed lion on the floor, toys arranged in a row against the wall, and lots of red pillows around where a bundle of sun-kissed cheeks lay.lying on the bed.
Heart's lips were parted, chest rising and falling in a calm breath, her thick eyelashes fluttering.
James felt something rise in his throat. Fear, pure and cold. He was so little and James was his father.
Good.
Fuck, he'd panic the moment he actually let himself contemplate every single thing used in that word. But it's not like he doesn't alreadywere in panic.
He sat on the floor, leaning over the side of the bed where Harry slept.
James felt too much, felt everything completely, every emotion anyone could ever experience, but this? That emotion that was filling her stomach, a freezing fear mixed with the greatest sense of belonging, all compressed into such a strange happiness. Like the adrenaline rush of jumping off a cliff not knowing what's down there, but even being scared doesn't matter because the view is the best he's ever experienced.
At that moment he knew he already loved Harry, it was strange to love a stranger, but James thinks he always knew his love was there. Something so beautiful couldn't be made of anything less.
He felt hot tears sliding down his cheeks and stopped at the sight of Regulus across the bed with a look that couldn't be described other than relieved.
"Is—is he better?" James asked, looking at Harry, at his son. Regulus heard the question the way it was asked, James wanted to know what was going on.
"He has low immunity, he doesn't get sick all the time, but when he does, most of the time it takes a while to get well. He's fine now though. I'm just really worried."
James nodded, quietly, oddly mesmerized by Harry's breathing.
"He is sofragile, James, so sweet." Regulus gasped, looking at his son in a way James never imagined he would.
James knew that Regulus never wanted to be a father, he dreaded it, he shuddered at the thought of repeating what he had gone through with his parents and here he was, transmitting the kind of love that overflowed without smothering.
"He's beautiful," James said, reaching out a hand towards him and freezing in midair, one look at Regulus was enough for him to know it was okay. James then traced the curve of Harry's nose gently, his hand shaking as he noticed the little pressure mark between his eyes, on the bridge of his nose.
"Does he wear glasses all the time?" Regulus smiled.
"Yes," Regulus fiddled with the necklace inside his blouse, tracing his hand along the silver chain. "He's just like you, I thought the dark curls would be mine, but when he grew up they got more and morecurly and lesswavy. He is purely you."
James smiled, "But the eyes…"
"Even they managed to hide behind glasses that came from you."
James looked at his son. "You must hate it."
"It annoys me, yes. But no, I could never hate anything that comes from you," He sounds so fucking sincere that James wants to drag his fingernails across his face.with frustration.
"Regulus."
He understands the tone, so he changes the subject.
"You know, I named him after his grandfather. When I saw his smile, I didn't think of Sirius or Fleamont or you. I saw Henry Potter, your grandfather laughing in the rocking chair the last time we saw him," James drags in a shaky breath. "But I put Harry, because despite the smile, Harry is his own..."
"His own person."
Regulus shakes his head, lips slightly curved.
"Yes."
When Regulus left home and got a scholarship to London without telling Sirius, there was still a shell of the child grown up in the Black mansion, everything always built on someone else's behalf.
The second, Sirius's brother, son of Walburga and Orion.
Not Regulus.
James helped him find himself, until he found the way he liked eggs, as his mother had even chosen what he should like.
At the end of an experiment where James boiled, fried and seasoned the different ways of making an egg, Regulus decided he didn't like eggs after all and decided he was in love with his brother's best friend.
But by then he had learned that he was James, James was his own person. Being friends with his brother was just a consequence of his stupidity, so when Sirius confronted them, Regulus told him to go fuck himself. Sirius didn't even object.
"You are your own person, Reggie. Fuck the Regulus and Arcturus and Blacks before you."
Regulus, his own person.
James, his own person.
And one belonging to the other, irrevocably.
"You weren't supposed to be here, James."
He looked up, finding Regulus grim-faced, a pain James couldn't quite place, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Why Regulus? Explain to me, that's all I ask for."
"I—," He sobbed. "I have to see Draco. Can you, uh— Can you stay with Harry?"
"Barty has it, please don't run away from me again, I don't think I could take it this time." he begged.
"I— I know, Jamie, I just need to get my head together before I tell you."
James gave a defeated sigh and nodded.
Of course he would stay with Harry, he planned to never let him go.
"It will be a pleasure."
When Regulus left the room, that chill in his fingertips returned, wanting him close. But as he looked at Harry, he knew he would never again be as cold as he once was.
Never.
━━━━━━━━━
Sometimes, James had to stop seeing the good in people and start seeing what they really showed.
Regulus was so fucking angry as he walked out the front door and ignored Sirius and Remus' glare in the room. He didn't care what suit he was wearing when he went out in the rain, not caring about the icy drops piercing his skin and penetrating the fabric that protected him from the cold.
Oh, how angry he was.
How had James not already hit him? Did he fucking make a joke about Rabastan, his ex-boyfriend, being Harry's father?
He would have hit James.
Why did James have to be so understanding?
Oh, he hated him.
Why did James still have to be so good and so handsome? When did Regulus spend all those years struggling with his memory?
How could he? That damn idiot.
Regulus walked up the green hill behind Alphard's house, all the land stretching as far as his eyes could see was his. Regulus wasn't even cold from being so angry and he felt very cold.
He couldn't even remember how many gods he'd called on James to have turned into an idiot lover, to just be a good father to Harry instead of making Regulus ache with love every time he looked at him.
Regulus knew he had no right to be mad, but he was, so he turned his back on the house. With his vision blurred by the rain, all he did was scream, at the top of his lungs, taking everything out of him.
"Reggie." Oh, Regulus would kill him.
"No, let me alone!" He yelled at James. "I'll tell you and apologize a thousand times, but don't you dare give me those magnificent eyes and make me give it all over again to you. I know I'm proud, but don't take away the thread of sanity I still have."
"Reggie," James took another stepforward. "Let's go inside, it's too cold, you're going to be sick."
Regulus stopped, his chestgoing up and coming down in an erratic breath. He couldn't be sick, Harry wasn't well, he needed Regulus well.
"Fine, but don't follow me!" Regulus stomped his foot, striding past him and James snorted.
"Do I stay here in the rain?" he asked, a hint of humor in his voice that Regulus wanted to squash. "Or can I come in and warm up?"
Regulus shrugged, shouting back, "Well, I suppose, if you need to."
James was following him. Regulus didn't know how he felt about him following him, as it gave him flashbacks of Remus complaining about James following him around, even when he also had his own personal stalker.
Regulus hated flashbacks, he hated everything.
James hadn't been back a day and all of a sudden, Regulus was expressing emotions, screaming.
He could almost see his mother calling him pathetic.
He stopped at the doorknob, looking back to see James looking at him with those damn doe eyes. Regulus ignored him and went inside, taking off his sodden shoes and socks before taking a deep breath to face the argument he was listening to outside, unfolding inside.
James walked in after him.
"You can't blame him!" Barty scolded, green eyes sharp and full of fury. So awesome in Regulus's opinion, too bad he was such a goddamn idiot.
"Barty," Regulus called and Bartemius looked at him, relaxing visually when seeing your friend, your tone much lower now.
"No Regulus! You know I'm right, you're your bloody brother and the father of your child, I'm your best friend and I would have gone to the ends of the earth to save you."
"Save you from what?" Sirius snapped, his hands clenched into fists. A small glimpse of James informed him that he was the calmer one, perhaps confused but upon seeing his eyes, Regulus knew how distraught he looked.
Barty gave a humorless laugh.
"He's kidding, isn't he?" His smile at Sirius was pure hate. "Your brother is going to live with your bitch mother and you don't even know?"
"Enough!" Regulus scolded, cutting.
"Regulus, what is he talking about?" James asked, stepping out from behind him to stand in the middle of the room, soaking wet.
"Barty." Regulus wiped a hand across his forehead and Bartemius looked up at him, regret covering his face as he heard his own name being called.
A silent conversation passed between them and Barty nodded in agreement because Regulus and Barty were Regulus and Barty, they understood each other no matter what.
"I'll be with Draco." He turned and left the room.
Remus wasted no time realizing he didn't fit into the conversation either. "I suppose I have emails to answer.'
Regulus watched the two leave, took the terracotta blanket on the sofa and went behind the kitchen counter that separated the living areas.
He filled a green teapot with water, turned on the gas stove and watched the water boil. It was all silent torture, but the other two in the room knew he needed it.
A cup of unsweetened black tea sat in front of her on the counter. The three separated between the kitchen and the living room. Regulus wondered if he was trying to create distance or a barrier.
He sighed as he curled up in the warm blanket.
"Do you want tea?" He asked, his hand bandaged by the cut from the day before shaking as he held the mug.
"Fuck your tea," Sirius snapped, standing, looking ready to murder his brother.
Regulus didn't even look at him, all he could notice was James. Something in Regulus shattered, shard by shard breaking in a way that only happened when he left and it was Harry who was responsible for putting the pieces together. Pieces so fragile that they were now in tatters.
Regulus rehearsed this conversation in his mind so many thousands of times that the words were already worn out. He really wanted to explain everything the moment he saw James, but he couldn't find the strength.
"I was twenty-one," He caught his breath as he started to speak. "Third year at Oxford and I loved you so much that I was falling out of love with myself, neglecting my dysphoria, putting it all behind me because my life up to that point was enough. Until I didn't anymore." Regulus sobbed, clutching the cup. "I don't blame you, not even remotely, but at that moment I was sovulnerable that I was afraid a word would undo my decision. When I decided to go through the transition, I decided not to tell you until I understand the medical process and see a psychologist. That's when Walburga found out because she was a controlling freak who kept access to my medical history. And then she got her trump card against it."
"Harry." James took over, almost knowing where this story was going.
"Harry," Regulus smiled, as if the mere mention of his son exclude the tension of the story. "Mother reached out to me while I was in despair and what was I going to do? I had a bright future, an amazing boyfriend and I was ready to become me and then, a baby."
Regulus remembers the panic when he left the office with the result of a blood test in his hand and thousands of new decisions to make.
He was so afraid of what would happen, but even then it wasn't something he couldn't get around, he knew that James would support him in whatever decision he chose to make, after all it was his own body, but in that moment he finally understood what it was to love something instantly. He wanted the baby.
Regulus didn't dare look at either of them.
"I wanted to have Harry and I blurted it out in one of the conversations I never learned to get the better of," Regulus felt Sirius peering into him, knowing exactly what he was talking about, the way Walburga got what she wanted with just a play on words. "So, you know I was never able to cut her out of my life entirely, which was certainly a mistake as her threats to stop paying my tuition became about taking my child away from me when it was born."
Regulus shuddered at the memory. He feared so much for himself, for James, for Harry. Because he knew exactly what his mother was capable of.
Sirius made a noise of disapproval.
"And no matter how much I knew you and Sirius would protect us, I was so scared."
Regulus dropped the cup, pinching the bridge of his nose like he always did when he needed a break, his hand was shaking and he looked so flustered trying to recover.
"She's agreed to the transition," he continued, a moment later, still looking anywhere but at them. "Maybe she even liked it because Sirius was gone and now she had an heir, but then she would have two, she wouldn't need me. Least of all a man like James to stop her plan to have Harry as an heir. She never liked you. ," He smiled weakly, his gaze turning distant, as if a memorydawn.
"By God, I think she hated you as much as she hated Sirius. And in two snaps she would have Harry out of us, I know that, she would. Allegation of parental neglect or even rendering us unable to care for him, Walburga would do anything to save him. the Blacks. So I did as she asked." Her heart rode hard in her chest as she watched the tea smoke curling in the air. "I was almost three months pregnant when I left. When I saved Harry. For her, I was the guardian of her heir before I fathered Harry. It was five years of trying to protect him from her, from manipulation, from pain. But all because I knew it would be worse if I hadn't sacrificed everything."
But in the process, he had already destroyed himself.
"I wasn't sure if you would stay with me after the transition, I was sure you would support me, but suddenly I didn't know that either, it was all so complicated. I heard so much from her, I went back to twelve where everything she you said affected me and I didn't know any other reality. So I left you."
"For Harry." James completed, his voice cracking.
"For Harry," he agreed, brows drawn together in a pained expression as he finally turned back to James.
"Today I know the plans she had and they were terrible, James. Harry wouldn't have any of us if I hadn't left. It was so hard without you, do you really think I'd leave you if it weren't for that? I'm so sorry— ," Regulus just wanted them to be okay.
And it hurt so much what he had to do for it.
He packed, but brought nothing back to Paris but a photo album and letters James wrote to him as a teenager, which for a long time were hidden in the loose floorboards in the attic of the Black Mansion.
He hesitated for hours before opening the door to the apartment he shared with James and then he cried when he saw the door to his brother and Remus' apartment, they were bloody neighbors.
For years, Regulus had fantasized about Harry's chubby feet darting out of their kitchen to run down the hall to his aunt and uncle.
"Fuck," Sirius' eyes were blank as he gave Regulus a knowing look before storming out of the room, slamming the door with so much hatred that Regulus knew it was his mother. For not being able to protect him from her.
Sirius would look back at Regulus with guilt.
James crossed the space, passing his arms around from Regulus. "I'm sorry you had to go through this alone," James threaded his hand into his curls, bringing him to his chest as he trembled unflinchingly. "I have you, no one else is going to take you away from me."
Regulus didn't want to think about the implications of his words, but he really hoped so.