Archive of Our Own

Regulus absentmindedly drags his spoon through his cooled oatmeal. Despite the early hour, his thoughts were already stuck in a seemingly-endless cycle of rumination, a regrettably common occurrence as of late.

A commotion across the Great Hall frees him from his self-imposed prison.

The source is easy to locate - the Gryffindor table, the epicenter of chaos, clamor, and general disturbances. From his post at the Slytherin table, the quiet, reserved, and well-mannered section of the hall, Regulus sullenly watches as his brother, Sirius, throws his head back, a bark-like laugh spilling from his lips, his mirth undoubtedly a result of some ‘joke’ told by that dunce, Potter. Tucking his long hair behind his ears, revealing silver earrings so shiny, they’re nearly blinding even at a distance, Sirius amicably claps his best mate on the shoulder. Around them, the Gryffindor Chaser’s hoard of admirers giggle and fawn all over him; Saint Potter glows with pride, basking in the glory of their mindless devotion. 

Something inside Regulus twists at the sight, a bitter, ugliness curling around his heart. Seeing his brother so happy and carefree only a handful of weeks after running away from home, leaving the Black name behind, leaving Regulus behind… it’s worse than a punch to the gut, worse even than a knife to the heart; at least that's over in an instant. His current pain is akin to being held under the Cruciatus Curse, relentless, constant, excruciating suffering that only grows worse and worse, making time feel like it’s crawling by. And just when he thinks he's reached his limit, that he's at the apex of agony, it can’t be any worse than this, I can’t survive anything else, then boom, he learns, surprise! Why yes, yes it can get worse, and yes, he can survive more than he thought.

But at what cost?  

Since his birth, Sirius Orion Black has been the shining star of their family. Intelligent, sociable, magically powerful, witty, and with the Black family good looks to boot, Regulus always felt like a total schmuck standing next to his older sibling. Sirius was everything their parents could want in an heir… minus the pesky bit about him spurning the Pureblood ideals every Black before him proudly touted, though that didn't start until after he went off to Hogwarts. Every want and whim Sirius had was catered to; fashionable new robes imported from France, spun with the finest silks money could buy? He got it. Obnoxiously expensive dragon-hide boots? He got it. New custom broomstick with his name engraved into the handle? He got it. The highly anticipated last novel in a best selling series, before it was released to the masses? He got it.

But Regulus believes it's imperative to give credit where credit is due; what his brother wasn’t given, he went out and got on his own. The top ranking in nearly all of his classes? He got it. Popularity at Hogwarts? He got it. Reputation for being one of the most infamous pranksters Hogwarts has ever seen? He got it. A new brother? He got it. Friends that were so close, they replaced his family? He got it.

Having lived in Sirius’s shadow since his birth, Regulus was perfectly content with being second-best, second-thought, second-choice, never first. Being the center of attention? Pass, pass, pass. Besides, it’s not like Sirius went out of his way to make Regulus feel inferior, nor has the youngest Black ever blamed his sibling. Sometimes, things just were, and that's all there was to it. Regulus would burn everything to a crisp before he’d ever admit it aloud, but deep down, he agrees his brother is pretty fucking cool.

Normally, what his sibling had, versus what he didn’t have… it wasn’t an issue, not in his mind. But with Mother’s latest letter burning a hole in the pocket of his robes, the edges of the parchment crumbled from how many times he’s taken it out to read, despite having memorized it after his second read-through… Regulus, for the first time in a long time, wants.

No longer can he just sit and watch his estranged sibling goofing off, acting like everything is fine, when it isn’t, when it won’t ever be again. After draining every last drop of his room-temperature coffee in an attempt to rid himself of the unpleasant taste in his mouth, Regulus stands up. 

“I’m going for a walk,” he informs his friends; it’s the truth too, not a lie to flee the table in hopes of escaping another reminder of his inadequacies.

The sympathy etched in Evan’s gaze, the sympathy that’s been there since the end of last term when everything started crumbling around Regulus, makes the ugly feeling around his heart double in size. “You want company? Or is this a solo outing?”

“I’ll be fine on my own,” Regulus says, answering the unspoken question, ‘Are you alright?’. Unlike earlier, now… now, he’s lying, but what his friends don’t know won’t hurt them. “But thanks, Ev.”

Barty’s always been better than Evan at hiding his concern. “We’ll see you at dinner, yeah?” Regulus nods. “Good, so we can tell you all about how horrible tryouts are… no one can replace you, Reg, Slughorn will be begging for you to come back once he sees the pitiful lot he has to choose from.”

Appreciating their support, not that I deserve it, I dug my own grave, Regulus scrounges up a small grin. “Yeah, we’ll see.” The likelihood of Slughorn allowing him back onto the team, especially if he’s got McGonagall chirping in his ear, is slim to none. Fuck, there’s a greater chance of James Potter, Gryffindor Golden Boy and massively straight heartthrob of Hogwarts, being secretly in love with him, than there is of Regulus playing Seeker for Slytherin again. But this is neither the time nor place to talk about it. “Catch ya later.”

Strolling aimlessly through the halls, Regulus keeps his chin held high. For now, no one looks at him anymore than usual, but soon… once people realize that Slytherin is holding tryouts for a new Seeker this morning, a new starting Seeker, the rumors will spread regarding the reason for his unexpected departure from the team. Merlin-only-knows what his peers will come up with, something likely ten times worse than the truth. But it's only a matter of time until someone figures it out: secrets + Hogwarts = not happening. Then, the rumors will turn into accusations, vile insults, slander at him, at his teammates. 

Having some understanding of how his family works, Slughorn informed Regulus at the start of the school year (following a summer break wrought with crippling anxiety regarding what his punishment would be), he was allowed to ‘gracefully bow out’ on his own terms, rather than receiving an official ban from the team. Justin Fawley, the Slytherin Captain, was the only one who knew the truth… the whole truth, the truth Slughorn refused to listen to… and while the seventh-year doesn’t blame Regulus for what he did, understanding he wasn’t trying to cheat, he was only leveling the playing field… Fawley definitely blames him for getting caught. As he should.

“What are you doing up here?” a feminine voice asks, jolting Regulus from his thoughts. “Bit far from Slytherin, isn’t it?”

Even before the girl’s form comes into focus, delayed because the charm Regulus casted earlier was already starting to wear off, he knows exactly who’s in front of him. Throughout his first few years at Hogwarts, Regulus heard her shouting at Potter so frequently (and his brother slightly less so), he’s fairly certain he could recognize her voice anywhere.

“Evans, is it?” Regulus makes a concerted effort to maintain a blank expression and neutral tone. It’s not her fault he’s a jealous, resentful git, nor has she ever personally done anything to him to deserve an attitude. “Potter’s girlfriend?”

Over her shoulder, he can just make out the painting of the Fat Lady, the portrait that guarded the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

How the bloody hell did I make it all the way to the seventh-floor?

“IS THAT WHAT HE'S GOING AROUND TELLING PEOPLE?” she shrieks, startling Regulus from his musings, again. “I thought we moved past that last year!”

They broke up?!

As humiliating as it is to ask, Regulus needs to be sure. “You’re… you’re not dating Potter?” Fingers crossed behind his back, he silently prays she doesn’t pick up on the hopeful lit in his voice. “You have my sincerest apologies if I’m being insensitive.”

“Date that arrogant toe-rag?! Please, as if!” Lily Evans might be Muggleborn, but by her disgusted scoff alone, she would fit right into the Black family. “I mean, alright, to be fair to Potter, he’s been alright since he accepted we’re never going to be a thing. Even found someone new to obsess over from what I’ve heard -”

Quirking an eyebrow, Regulus oh-so-casually asks, “Has he, now?”

“Shocking, isn’t it? From what the girls in my dorm say, he hasn’t even told his closest friends who it is.” Fucking damnit, Potter’s never had boundaries when it comes to his little merry gang of misfits, why has he started now?! “That arse, I bet he’s trying to make his new flame jealous by telling everyone I’m his girlfriend! When I get my hands on that beefy neck of his-” She mimes choking someone.

He rushes to clear the air, lest she storm off in a tizzy… if she murders Potter, Regulus would be tasked with finding new eye-candy and a new arch nemesis. Blegh, what a pain that would be! And what are the chances that he can find one individual who checks both boxes? That doesn’t even take into account how mooning over/despising Potter, the best mate of Regulus’s older brother, Sirius, satisfies his innate petty-younger-sibling quota. If James Potter was going to die an early death, it’ll be by Regulus’s hands… or perhaps, by his ‘delegation’ is more accurate. Murder is dirty work, and dirty work is below Blacks, except in extreme cases. Delegating someone else to do the murdering on his behalf, now, that’s a different story.

“I am sorry for being presumptuous. No one has said anything, I stupidly assumed.”

She sighs. “You’re not the first, and likely won’t be the last. But it’s a relief to hear I don’t have to kick his arse, at least for now.”

Regulus would love for this conversation to be over, nothing personal, she’s very nice, but it’s just horribly awkward. But he recognizes an opportunity when he… in a manner of speaking… sees one.

“Forgive me for such rudeness,” tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, Regulus breaks out his sincerest smile, attempting to mimic what Sirius does when he’s trying to charm his way into a person’s good graces for some dubious reason, “but might I ask a favor?”

Her green eyes narrow suspiciously; ugh, evidently it only works when his brother does it. “You may ask.”

Not the warmest agreement, but it’s workable. 

“I need to talk to my brother, Sirius… it’s urgent, but personal, so I’d prefer to speak with him in private. If you’d be so kind, would you please let me in?”

Her assessing gaze makes him want to squirm. Sweet Merlin, it’s like facing a younger, shorter, and very ginger Professor McGonagall. But Regulus told no lies… maybe some exaggerations, but no lies. Besides, he’s held strong under far worse scrutiny (Sirius is horrendously nosy, obnoxiously suspicious, and exceptionally hard to fool). Eventually, she decides he’s probably not plotting to murder his brother, set Gryffindor Tower on fire, or any other horrid thing that crossed her mind when she first spotted a big-bad-Slytherin wandering the seventh-floor on a weekend.

“I’ll lead you to his dorm,” Evans whirls around on her heel without waiting for Regulus to respond, “so no one gives you any trouble.”

The Common Room is mostly empty, thank Merlin. But wary of being caught in rival territory, Regulus sticks close to Evans, walking with his gaze lowered and long hair covering half his face. All it takes is one lion to start a massacre.

After climbing an obnoxious amount of stairs, they arrive at a door with a gold plaque, ‘Sixth-Year Boys’. The normalness surprises Regulus, who expected something loud, flamboyant, and obnoxious from ‘the Marauders’, the inane moniker Sirius and his stupid dormmates assigned to their quartet.

Cautiously turning the knob, Evans opens the door less than an inch, then uses her foot to push it open the rest of the way. “Brace yourself,” she warns, erecting a shield charm for good measure.

“Merlin, have mercy!” Regulus gasps, wrinkling his nose at the sight. “Why would they choose to live like this?”

It’s like a tornado swept through the room. Clothes were strewn everywhere, on the floor, on the bed posts, draped over the door of the armoire, rather than in it. Open books littered the desks and the floor, while more were piled high on the nightstands. Regulus doesn’t see food left out, but he also doesn’t want to look too hard in any one place, paranoid he’s going to find something truly terrible, like rodents or insects. Hopefully, it’s just messy, rather than dirty…

How anyone could exist in such disarray was a complete and utter mystery, truth be told. Grandmother Melania would have a heart attack if she saw the squalid conditions her eldest grandson lived in! 

The redhead winces. “It’s not just the mess you have to worry about, either.” 

He nods, because yeah… his brother’s childhood bedroom at Grimmauld Place was warded to the nines, mostly from their parents and the family house elf, Kreacher. But for one long, awful, traumatic week, Regulus was forced to live with blonde hair after trying to read Sirius’s diary (he was curious, okay? Why was that a crime?) Their parents refused to get involved in the sibling dispute… Regulus had to emotionally guilt trip his brother into changing it back, shedding an embarrassing amount of tears, whinging about how he was sorry, he swore he’d never do it again, but he didn’t want to ‘look like Lucius Malfoy’s little brother anymore’ he wanted to go back to looking like ‘Sirius’s younger brother, like it’s supposed to be, so please, Siri, please change it back’. 

“A few Revelio’s may be helpful before you step foot in there,” she suggests. "A Prefect went in during our second-year while the guys were elsewhere, and uh, let's just say no one ever made the mistake again."

Doing his due diligence, Regulus casts a dozen detection charms, including a few obscure ones - last thing he wants is to get caught in one of his brother’s paranoid security traps. Because he would burn the entire castle to a smoldering pile of ruins if he ended up with blonde hair, or worse, as a ginger (no disrespect to Lily Evans, but a Black with red hair was just NOT a thing). But oh, how quick the wind changes; Evans doesn’t leave him alone until they’re relatively sure he won’t be brutally murdered by a protection ward or unfinished ‘prank’ (though jokes aside, Regulus legitimately appreciates her concern, especially since they've never once spoken to each other before today).

To avoid catching whatever plague is surely festering in this mess, Regulus decides to wait for his brother on his bed, which is likely the only safe place in this pigsty. Sirius might be chaotic and disorganized, but he takes his beauty sleep very seriously. Finding the bed is thankfully simple. At the foot of the four-poster farthest from the door, sits his brother’s school trunk, his initials - S.O.B. - embossed on the front in large, silvery letters (the sight brings a nostalgic smile to Regulus’s face… they always used to snicker over the misfortune). 

Surprisingly, the worst part of the dorm wasn’t the sixth-years’ fault… Salazar, it was so bloody bright in here. How could they ever sleep past dawn?

Lifting the covers up, Regulus briefly checks for traps or anything yucky. Deeming it passable, he slips his shoes off before crawling in. It’s impossible to predict when Sirius will be back, so he might as well get comfy. His brother can’t fault him for that… and if he does, sounds like a personal issue for Sirius to deal with, rather than a problem for Regulus.

Shutting his aching eyes, he wakes an unknown amount of time later to Sirius shrieking indecipherably at him, using his ‘overdramatic-shrew-voice’, as Regulus once dubbed it long ago.

“Why wasn’t Regulus there?” Sirius crossly asks his boyfriend.

He wants answers, and he wants them yesterday! Was that too much to ask?

Remus sighs. “Sirius, I don’t -”

“What business do those rotten snakes have holding Seeker tryouts without Regulus around to give his input?” 

Sirius chivalrously holds the tapestry aside so Remus can step through. Damn, he’s such a good boyfriend! But then again, Remus makes it easy by being so lovely and perfect, even if he is grumpy in the mornings and eats all of Sirius’s chocolate, regardless of how good his hiding spot was.

“Thank-”

“Regulus has been their Seeker since his second year,” Sirius takes a moment to appreciate the view he’s been blessed with - Remus’s beautifully sculpted backside - before falling into step beside him, “and he’s now starting his fifth. So, if they’re holding Seeker tryouts for Reserves, then why isn’t -”

“Regulus there?” Remus finishes for him. Lacing their fingers together, he presses a kiss to the top of their entwined knuckles, igniting a flutter of Snidgets in Sirius’s stomach. “Sirius, love, for the hundredth time, I don’t know anymore than you do. Hopefully either the Map or James’s research,” a rather polite way of saying ‘skulking around and eavesdropping’, “can shed some light on the situation.”

Per usual, Sirius knows that Remus is right. He’s also very aware that he’s being annoying, considering he’s irritating himself, too! But he’s just so angry, and frustrated, and irritated, and quite frankly, worried, and he’s never been good at keeping his emotions in. His older brother senses tingle something fierce; there’s something amiss with his sibling, Sirius just knows it. But it’s not like he can straight up ask Regulus what’s going on. Even when they were younger, back when things were more straightforward between them, much less complicated… Regulus was as reserved and reticent as they come. Once, it took Sirius literally three days to get his brother to admit his stomach was hurting; fortunately, Kreacher was able to then convince their parents to fire-call the Family Healer right away, because low and behold, Regulus had appendicitis so severely, it’s a miracle the organ hadn’t burst.

On that note, does… does Sirius even still have a brother? Running away from home and getting blasted off the Black family tapestry was one thing (confirmed when he passed cousin Narcissa on the train to Hogwarts, the news delivered in the same manner one would discuss the weather - ‘The summer rain has been dreadful this year, hasn’t it? Did you hear that hailstorm last night? Oh, Auntie Walburga burned you off the tapestry, were you able to sleep at all with that racket?). But before Sirius left Grimmauld Place in the dead of night to Floo to the Potters’, he crept across the hall. Standing in his brother's doorway, he asked Regulus to come with him, but Regulus simply… ignored him. Didn’t say anything, just glared at Sirius from the comfort of his bed. Sirius even pleaded with his brother to leave with him, to flee the abuse Mother and Father masqueraded as dutiful parenting, “Please, Regulus, please come with me,” but it was no good. Turning onto his side, Regulus yanked the covers over his head, like he hoped they would block out Sirius’s begging.

Needing an escape from the downward spiral of his thoughts, Sirius waits until he’s right in front of the stairwell leading to their dorm, paces ahead of Remus. Glancing back over his shoulder, he sing-songs, “Race you to the top!” beginning his ascent before he’s even finished speaking. “Loser cleans the room!”

Remus’s expression goes from mild exasperation (coupled with fondness), to straight up indignant. “Absolutely not, you bloody cheat!”

There’s three steps between Sirius and victory when a firm hand grabs his shoulder, spinning him around.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Black,” Remus purrs, crowding him against the wall of the stairwell. “Hardly snogged me at all today, what’s that about?”

Sirius’s mouth goes dry. “Very neglectful of me, isn’t it?”

Remus is exceptionally aware of how fucking besotted Sirius is with him, but providing assurances is still important. He needs to do better, his boyfriend deserves the best!

“You gonna do something about it, sweetheart?” Remus looms over Sirius, bloody tall bastard, why do I find that so damn sexy? His lips are a hairbreadth away, right there for the taking. “Put that pouty mouth of yours to better use?”

Fuckfuckfuck, his boyfriend is so unbelievably gorgeous all the time, but it’s a whole other level of attractive when Remus gets like this; embarrassing to admit, but it makes Sirius weak in the knees.

Rather than continue bantering (or bickering, as James would call it), Sirius surges forward to give Remus what he wants. Merlin, he really hadn’t snogged his boyfriend all that much today, had he? Sirius really was being a shoddy… wait, wait, nooo! Why’s Remus pulling away so soon?

When Sirius’s brain starts working again, he finds Remus standing smugly on the landing in front of their dorm, a triumphant smirk on his scarred face. “I win… looks like you get to clean up your own mess, love.”

Hoping if he looks pathetic enough, he’ll get more kisses and needle Remus into helping him clean up the remnants of a late-night prank plotting session (a tall order, but he’s confident in his abilities), Sirius invokes his best put-out pout. “One, James was an equal contributor to that mess, and two, you can’t out-cheat me, that’s boyfriend cruelty, and three, I expected better from you, Mr. Prefect.”

Rolling his eyes, Remus does tug Sirius closer by the belt loops of his jeans (another reason Muggle clothing was better than robes), and snogs him senseless.

One down, one to go.

“You and James are nearly adults -”

Sirius makes a face. “Don’t remind me of my dwindling youth.”

“So I expect you’re quite capable of tidying your own messes.”

“It’s not about whether we are capable or not,” Sirius argues, following Remus into their room. 

He wanted to admire the view of his boyfriend’s perfectly-shaped arse, but instead, he gets an eyeful of said boyfriend’s comfy jumper, literally an eyeful, thanks to Remus stopping abruptly in the middle of the room, with no warning whatsoever.

“There’s someone in James’s bed,” Remus croaks.

WHAT??! Ooh, how scandalous, Jamie! Is this the mysterious person he’s been crushing on, or someone else entirely?!

Missing the hesitancy in Remus’s voice, Sirius excitedly shifts to the side, unable to see anything around his boyfriend’s ridiculously tall frame.

There is someone in James’s bed.

A person they know.

But it’s not a fellow Gryffindor.

Nor is it a girl.

It’s a Slytherin.

A Slytherin bloke.

And it’s…

Not in a million, trillion years, did Sirius expect to find HIS LITTLE BABY BROTHER CONTENTLY CURLED UP IN HIS BEST MATE’S BED, FAST ASLEEP, NOT EVEN STIRRING WHEN THE DORMITORY DOOR SLAMMED CLOSED, OR FROM HIS AND REMUS’S CONVERSATION, OR FROM SIRIUS’S HORRIFIED/INDIGNANT/AGHAST/OUTRAGED SHRIEK.

Generally, Regulus is a light sleeper, where even the slightest shift in the air wakes him up. But if he feels secure, then he sleeps like he’s dead, which is not an exaggeration by any means. This sort of deep sleeping, however, happens essentially never, in part because Regulus is an anxious jellybean who can rarely relax, but also because he has a history of night terrors. If he’s sharing a bed with Sirius, which doesn’t happen often now that they’re older (and likely won't ever happen again), Regulus could easily sleep for twelve hours, and it’s nearly impossible to wake him up. There’s one other potential explanation for Regulus’s coma-like sleep; sometimes school/Quidditch/socializing combined with a lack of suitable rest will leave him so exhausted, he basically collapses. As terrible as it sounds, Sirius hopes that’s the reasoning behind Regulus not waking up right now… he doesn’t want to consider what it would mean for Regulus to feel secure in James Potter’s bed.

Godric, maybe Sirius needs to look into getting a Mind Healer - a preemptive strike against the nightmares surely coming his way.

“Go easy on him,” Remus whispers warningly, probably also concerned by the heavy bags under Regulus’s eyes, and/or the way his cheeks are sunken in, like he’s in dire need of a good meal or ten. “I’m sure it’s not what it looks like.”

An attempt was made, Remus can’t fault him there! But the situation has summoned the Black Family Madness within, and tragically, Sirius loses the battle against keeping it locked inside.

“Regulus Arcturus Black… WHAT IN MERLIN’S NAME ARE YOU DOING IN JAMES’S BED?”

His brother’s nose scrunches, rather adorably, Sirius absentmindedly notes. Reminds him of the time when Narcissa got a new perfume a few years back, and Regulus, who has an incredibly sensitive sense of smell, couldn’t stand the scent. Of course, he was too nice to tell her directly that she smelled like a Knockturn Alley Hag, but she eventually caught on and switched to something decent, bless (it was all because Sirius took one for the family, those ungrateful buggers, and politely pulled her aside to say everyone despised her new perfume, and if she stopped wearing that vile scent posthaste, she may actually end up engaged before she was a hundred and fifty. Of course, she didn’t thank Sirius for his helpful advice, no Black ever appreciated him like they should have. In fact, that wicked witch tried to curse him! Thankfully, Regulus happened to shuffle into the room right as she pulled her wand out, and since it was drilled into their heads, even before his birth, that it was their duty to set a good example for the youngest Black, Sirius, with his brother in tow, skedaddled to safety. He shamelessly stuck close to Grandmother for the rest of the night, reveling in another Black truth - you can’t curse the heir in front of the elders, ‘twas bad form.

“Sleepin’,” Regulus grumbles, flipping over onto his side. He nuzzles his face into… into James’s pillow, he is nuzzling James’s pillow with a blissful little smile on his face, this crisis is beyond worse than Sirius originally believed. “Goodnight, Siri.”

“WHY ARE YOU SLEEPING IN JAMES’S BED?!” Poking Regulus’s cheek is a horrible decision, it turns out, as Sirius nearly gets his finger bitten off by the hellion. “Regulussssss, wake up! You need to tell me why you’re sleeping in James’s bed!!”

“Go ‘way,” the covers might be tugged over his head, but they still hear Regulus mutter, “shrew.”

Shrew?! SHREW?! Cheeky brat, how dare he call -

“Stop laughing!” Sirius growls, swatting his boyfriend’s arm. “I am not a shrew… my Mother is a shrew, and I will NOT tolerate comparisons to her.”

They’ll ALL need the services of a Mind Healer, probably for years to come, after what Sirius is about to do. But since Regulus refuses to listen, it’s his fault and his fault alone, that his delicate sensibilities are going to be used against him.

Flipping down the duvet so he can see his brother’s face, Sirius yells, “REGULUS ARCTURUS, ARE YOU SHACKING UP WITH JAMES?!” A muscle twitches in his brother’s jaw, but clearly, a nerve has not been struck yet. Challenge accepted. “TELL ME THE TRUTH, REGULUS. ARE YOU SHAGGING MY BEST MATE? OR MAYBE ‘COPULATING’ MIGHT BE MORE YOUR STYLE… KNOBBING? BONING? FORNICATING?... REGULUS, ARE YOU FUCKING JAMES POTTER -”

Eyes flying open, Regulus matches his shriek. “WHAT THE EVERLASTING FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, BROTHER?!” Rudeness aside, Sirius’s heart swells at being referred to as ‘brother’. “I do not appreciate your vulgarity -”

Of all the things to focus on, of course he chooses the wrong one. 

“Regulus!” Each word is punctuated by a clap of Sirius’s hands. “Why. Are. You. In. James’s. Bed?”

Gray eyes so similar to his own blink rapidly. “I… I thought I was… I thought I was in your bed? I was waiting for you… Evans let me in…” Scrambling into a seated position, Regulus stares helplessly at his sibling.

Sirius points to the four-poster next to James’s. 

Should have been a piece of cake for Regulus to determine which bed was Sirius’s; first off, it’s the only one that’s made, he’s not a savage like his friends, and two… “Did you not see Grimmy?” 

Grimmy was a giant black dog stuffed animal that Sirius has religiously slept with every night since he was eight years old (long before he learned what his Animagus form would be… funny how stuff like that worked out). Grandmother bought it for him when they were at a funeral of some distant relative in France; only rich snobs would have a gift shop at a cemetery, but Sirius wasn’t complaining. From the moment he’d set eyes on the giant black dog, he knew he had to have it… fortunately, all he had to do was point and say, “I want that, please,” and she sent her house-elf, Dreggs, off to make the purchase (Regulus, who wasn’t with them in the shop, received a giant black cat, because Sirius loved showering his brother with presents, and the plushie reminded him of his sibling). It was Sirius’s first and only stuffed animal - wouldn’t want to make Grimmy jealous or think he’s replaceable - and absolutely no one in this bloody world could ever make him feel ashamed about it, his parents included (they tried, but failed, ha).

“Uh… I didn’t look that closely.”

Lie, Sirius’s internal bullshit detector screams. An omission counts as a lie, too, which is probably the case here.

“I meant no disrespect to Grimmy.” Fingers curling into fists, Regulus rubs the dried sleep gunk out of his eyes… Sirius tries not to coo at the cuteness. “He has my sincerest apologies.”

Don’t be fooled, he’s a brat, the Gryffindor firmly reminds himself. Absolutely not a result of your spoiling either, it’s Kreacher’s fault, but regardless, Reg is not a baby. He’s basically a mini adult… oh Merlin, how is he already nearly an adult?!

Sirius avoids looking at his smirking boyfriend. The Marauders don’t judge him… scratch that, everyone judges, but the important bit is they don’t hold it against him… for his devotion to his stuffed animal, one of the few bright spots in his otherwise dark childhood. But that doesn’t mean they won’t rib him for it. James refers to Grimmy as the honorary fifth Marauder, and Remus teasingly accuses Sirius of preferring snuggling his stuffed dog over his actual boyfriend (which is pure hooey! He loves cuddling with Remus, okay?... but Grimmy needs attention too, he gets lonely at night). 

“Grimmy is deeply offended, but he will think about forgiving you.”

“Oh, fantastic news, I will anxiously await updates on his decision.”

Remus smothers a laugh with the fakest cough Sirius has ever heard, and that included listening to James try to fool Madam Pomfrey into admitting him into the Hospital Wing when they were trying to get out of a Defense Against the Dark Arts essay on werewolves (they turned in deliciously sarcastic work instead. The detentions were so worth it).

Regulus gestures to the ‘SOB’ trunk at the foot of James’s bed. “Why is that here, then? That’s misleading.”

Well… he’s not wrong.

But there’s no ‘JFP’ trunk at the foot of Sirius’s bed, or any trunk at all, for that matter. Instead, there’s a huge, plush carpet where he can stretch out as Padfoot, his canine Animagus form.

“We share,” Sirius shrugs dismissively.

From experience, Sirius knows the best course of action is to give Regulus the least information possible. Offering up more details, either partial truths or total fabrications, meant a greater risk of Regulus’s brain unconsciously analyzing and dissecting what he’d been told… and then would come the questions. The LAST thing Sirius needs is questions from his super smart little brother. Act casual about it, don’t volunteer anything, and boom, Regulus will find something else to mull over.

“I see." Fiddling with the Black family ring around his finger, Regulus doesn’t meet Sirius’s gaze. “Um, so I came here, because I wanted to talk to you, to ask -”

“Oh, did you, now?” Anger seeps into his voice, a protective barrier against his inner insecurities. “Considering you’ve spent the entire term glaring at me, brother, I’m not sure I’m so inclined to hear what you have to say -”

Regulus looks taken aback at that, the gall of this kid is unreal, like hello! Of course, Sirius would be upset after everything that happened! Coming back to Hogwarts after the blowout fight with their parents, a fight so bad he permanently ran away from home, hoping against all hope that maybe his brother still gave a flying hippogriff about him, only to find Regulus glaring at him constantly.

“I… I wasn’t glaring at you!” Regulus cries, his cheeks pinkening. “You… you know I don’t mean to stare, brother, I just get so lost in thought -”

With an incredulous scoff, Sirius starts pacing in front of James’s bed, needing to burn off some steam. “Not only do you glare, Regulus, but you watch me constantly, surely putting together a little report in your head to write to Mummy dearest -”

“Oh, right,” the Slytherin drawls, metaphorically shaking off his meekness, “let me callously remind Mother that her treasured firstborn, the one who ran away and forsook our family name, is living a happy gay life with his three best friends, while she sits at home, mourning him like he died.” His tone turns mocking. “Yeah, Sirius, you caught me, I’m sending Mother letter after letter, telling her all about how great your life is since you ABANDONED us!”

Sirius is dead in Walburga Black’s eyes, because she drove the knife through his heart that killed him.

Struggling to maintain control of his magic, Sirius snarls back, “It’s her fault I left, Regulus, how do you not see that?” How dare he be blamed for leaving when that harpy basically forced him out! “If I didn’t live the way she dictated, then too damn bad, because she was going to get her way, regardless. She was trying to arrange my marriage, brother, a big stuffy ceremony right after graduation! Still in my teens, married to someone I’d met a handful of times… who would stand for that?”

Remus silently watches their argument, but doesn’t move to intervene.

“And that surprised you?” Regulus asks scathingly. “After sixteen, nearly seventeen years, that surprised you?”

Sad to admit, but yeah, kind of.

“I THOUGHT she would come to accept that I had no intention of being involved in any of that Pureblood-arranged-marriage drivel, and would back off!” Sirius confesses shrilly. “How many times did I tell her that I would rather be disowned than marry someone chosen for me? I warned her, Regulus, warned her again and again that I’d leave before I'd allow myself to be subjected to such nonsense.” The words appear to have no impact on his sibling. “Regulus… Regulus, she wanted me to marry a witch.”

“And?” Of all the potential reactions Sirius might have predicted, genuine confusion wasn’t one of them. Because what’s confusing about Sirius, a gay bloke, being appalled at the thought of marrying a witch, a woman ? “Forgive me if this is an ignorant question, but how else would you produce offspring to carry on the family line?”

Did Regulus forget? Or does he not know? They… they surely had a conversation about Sirius’s inclinations at some point, yeah?... okay, fuck, they probably didn’t, Blacks don’t discuss feelings, that’s gauche. But Sirius and his boyfriend have been dating since the end of last term (like literally, they got together on the last day of fifth year, right before summer break). Regulus is a smart lad, though, surely he put it together? Ugh, damnit, to be fair to his brother, Sirius and Remus have always been rather touchy feely, even as friends, and fine, in general, the Marauders don’t believe in personal bubbles when it comes to each other, but there must have been a noteworthy shift this year in the way Sirius and Remus interacted… right? 

“I know my reputation likely led you to believe otherwise, but it’s all poppycock.” Standing directly in front of Regulus, who for some strange reason is still sitting on James’s bed, Sirius looks him straight in the eye, heh. “Regulus… I’m gay.”

There’s no, ‘oh, I understand now’, or, ‘that’s shameful, thank Merlin you left before you could further disgrace our noble name’. In fact, Regulus still looks confused, why does he still look confused?! 

“So?”

“What do you mean, so?!”

His brother’s shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “I mean, so what? You’re gay, that’s nice, congrats. What I don’t understand is how such a trivial matter would necessitate deserting your family, that’s all.”

“I… you don’t understand?!” the Gryffindor sputters, flapping his hands in the air. Trying to make sense of his brother’s thinking process is worse than sitting his Ancient Runes O.W.L. after running around with the Marauders all night during the full moon. Sirius earned an ‘O’, of course he did, he’s a genius, but it was a mental nightmare. “I am not attracted to women, Regulus! I don’t want to,” his nose scrunches at not only the thought of it, but of saying such indecent words to his brother, “copulate with one.” He gestures to Remus. “Now him! Him I would make babies with… minus the actual baby part, cuz children are awful, and I don’t think Moons has the hips for childbirth.”

There’s something in Remus’s expression that tells Sirius he’s not going to like what his boyfriend is about to say. “Ah, but you do, though.”

Yeah… nope, don’t like that! Bad Remus, how dare he insult Sirius’s masculine hips, built for carrying his herculean physique, including but not limited to, the most majestic arse at Hogwarts!

“Respectfully, Sirius,” Regulus raises his voice to be heard over his brother’s affronted squawking, “I don’t think our preferences or feelings matter in this situation. We are to do our duty to our family, exactly as our parents, grandparents, and other distinguished ancestors have previously done theirs.”

Blimey, that old hag has really done a number on his brother, hasn’t she?

“It should matter,” Remus says softly. “Your feelings and preferences should matter. Marriage is about love, not familial duty.”

They both hear Regulus mutter under his breath, “Gryffindor ideals, how quaint.”

“I don’t want to marry some random witch that my batshit-crazy mother picked out, especially one who thinks she’s prettier than me!” Sirius gripes, simmering with rage at the memory of his last conversation with Abigail Baudelaire. “Because she's NOT, not by a long shot. What I want to do is one day marry my smokin’ hot boyfriend!” He flutters his eyelashes at Remus. “If he’ll have me, that is.”

“If you play your cards right,” Remus teases with a fond eye roll. “But not anytime soon, Sirius Black, so get that thought out of your head this instant!”

Boooo.

“I’m sorry,” Regulus looks between the two with wide, disbelieving eyes, “your what?!”

Oopsie, guess he didn’t know we were dating… official introductions are in order, methinks!

Dragging Remus closer, Sirius positions him in front of his brother. “Remus, this is my brother, Regulus. Regulus, this is Remus,” pause for dramatic effect, “my boyfriend.”

Remus holds his hand out to shake, “We’ve met, of course, but who am I to rain on Sirius’s parade?” 

Exactly! See, Remus gets him.

“Boyfriend, huh? Wow… just… why?”

Through clenched teeth, Sirius asks, "Why what, Regulus?”

“I mean, let’s be frank for a moment… you could do so much better.” Sirius bristles at that, because first off, Regulus can’t be mean to his boyfriend, that’s not allowed, and two, no, he really couldn't do any better, he’s actually dating way out of his - “Lupin.” The Slytherin smirks at their stunned expressions. “I mean, you’ve always seemed sensible, Remus… can I call you that?” Tentatively, Remus nods. “Do you really want to date this priss, Remus?” He jerks a thumb in Sirius’s direction. “The bloke who won’t marry a girl, not because he’s gay, but because she has the audacity to think she’s prettier than him? The same bloke who once had a meltdown and blew up half the dining room because our cousin pointed out he had split ends?”

“She was lying -” His brother cocks an eyebrow like, ‘was she really’, so Sirius turns imploringly to his boyfriend. He will NOT let this slander slide. “She’s a jealous ninny with ugly hair, who tries to tear people down undeservingly to make herself feel better. I do not have split ends.”

“Your hair is beautiful, love, most magnificent in the world, there’s no comparison.”

Best boyfriend ever award goes to Remus Lupin!

“I know,” Sirius preens, presenting his cheek for a kiss, which he gets, as deserved.

But Regulus is on a roll now. “You really want to date the bloke who was so devastated when his two favorite characters didn’t end up together at the conclusion of a book series, that he sent the author multiple Howlers everyday for three months straight?”

“Sirius!” Remus gasps out in between fits of laughter. “He’s joking, right?”

Lifting his chin proudly, Sirius says, “Reggie doesn’t joke, nor am I ashamed of my actions. That wanker deserved worse.”

“We only found out about it,” Regulus continues gleefully, batting Sirius’s hand away when he tries to cover his brother’s big fucking mouth, “because the poor bloke’s lawyers tracked Sirius’s owl to the villa we were vacationing at in Greece. They threatened to sue, claimed their client had to seek the services of a Mind Healer after suffering from a mental breakdown brought on by the stress of the harassment.”

With a woeful shake of his head, Remus tuts, “Sirius, really?”

“And what of MY mental health?!” Sirius cries, devastated all over again by the reminder of his childhood trauma… and so what if it happened last year? By law, he was still a child (which also got him off from being sued, hehe). “Cade and Wyatt were PERFECT for each other, but nooo, happy endings, who wants that? So, instead of a beautiful union between two soulmates, Cade ended up with Jaggar, the creepiest bloke in the village, because Wyatt just had to sacrifice himself in the climactic battle against the vampires, which doesn’t fucking make SENSE, since in this universe, Wyatt being a werewolf meant he was immortal too. And let’s not fucking forget how Cade was a powerful sorcerer and renowned Healer, who’s supposedly so good at his job that it helped unite the villagers with the werewolf packs… probably lied on his resume, the arsehole -”

Regulus cuts him off mid-rant. “See what I mean?”

Green eyes shift between the two brothers, before Remus eventually shrugs. “I like a man who’s in touch with his feelings.”

“HA!” If Sirius does a little happy dance, no one outside of this room needs to know. “Take that, Reggie!”

The Slytherin huffs, “You’re both hopeless. Suppose that means you deserve each other.”

“Say it again!” Sirius squeals, throwing his arms around his boyfriend. “Except in a nicer tone. I know that’s probably a difficult task for you, my little black star, but I believe in you.”

Regulus doesn’t get the chance to say it again.

“YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT I FOUND OUT -” 

Their door flies open, slamming against the wall with a bang (after weeks of research in third year, they reinforced both the wall and the door with a mound of spells for this very reason).

“Whoops, that was my bad.” The Gryffindor Chaser softly closes the door behind him, as if that makes up for his previous mistreatment (news flash - it does not). “But I figured out the mystery of why your brother wasn’t at tryouts -” Trailing off, James gapes at the Slytherin in question, suddenly noticing there was another person in the room, and it was not Peter. “Because he’s in… my bed?” He turns to Sirius. “Why is he in my bed?”

Remus chuckles. “That’s the mystery we are trying to solve, but it appears that getting off-track is an inherited trait for our lovely Padfoot.” True, Regulus has always excelled at distracting Sirius from his problems. Usually, that’s a good thing, but today? Questionable.

Oh fuck, speaking of unresolved mysteries… 

“So, James, why wasn’t Regulus at Seeker tryouts?”

Gaze bouncing back and forth between the two, Sirius internally debates who would be the easiest to break. Regulus is good at hiding stuff and keeping a low profile, but once caught, he doesn’t hold up very well under interrogation. But the lighthearted, teasing demeanor from earlier disappeared entirely when James walked in, Regulus clamming up like a Mooncalf caught out of its burrow; once his brother tucks himself into his shell, defensive walls going up, it takes a lot more energy to get him to squeal.

James, on the other hand, is absolutely pants at sneakery and deception, aside from when pranks are involved, but so far, he’s refused to cough up answers to Sirius’s relentless questions. Example - who does Jamie like now that he’s over Evans? Sirius doesn’t fucking know, because his friend won’t tell him! And his observation skills have gotten him nowhere, which is beyond annoying. Sirius loathes not knowing things he wants to know... can James just tell him already, pretty please, so he can move on?

At least this current dilemma is a good distraction from his own litany of woes.

Something is definitely afoot, there's no doubt about it. But is James a part of it? Or is Regulus napping in his bed a legitimate mix-up? Why is Regulus in Gryffindor Tower, his first trip ever to Sirius’s knowledge, when Slytherin Seeker tryouts are happening at the same time?

James’s mouth opens and closes several times, flustered by the innocuous question. “Umm.. because he uh… quit the team?” 

So, that definitely sounded more like a question, rather than the expected assured answer of a solved mystery. Suspicious, very suspicious.

“Oh, did he?” Sirius hums skeptically. “Quit the team, is that so?”

The Potter heir nods fervently. “Yep, quit, that’s what I said.”

“And how did you come to learn… wait.” Suddenly, the meaning of the words register. “REGULUS ARCTURUS BLACK, YOU QUIT THE QUIDDITCH TEAM?!”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Regulus huffs, “Will you stop using my full government name, Sirius Orion Black the third? It’s uncomfortable.”

Shuddering at the use of his own, Sirius benevolently agrees to his brother’s request. “Fine, Reggie, but please tell me James is mistaken, and you did not quit the Quidditch team?”

Regulus loves Quidditch, loves flying on his broom even more than James does, which is difficult to comprehend, but it’s the truth. To quit while he still has three full seasons left, after the sheer effort he put into developing/honing his skills and convincing their parents he should be allowed to play the 'barbaric sport'? Him willingly giving that up is unfathomable! Regulus is so talented, in fact, he's the only second-year to make the Slytherin Quidditch team in centuries! And it's definitely not his surname that got him a starting spot, Slytherins are surprisingly ruthless when it comes to filling their team roster - winning came above all, politics be damned. 

What the absolute fuck?

“James is mistaken, and I did not quit the Quidditch team,” the Slytherin parrots.

Oh, thank Merlin, what a relief! There’s certainly a very reasonable explanation as to why his brother skipped out on Seeker tryouts. Maybe they thought he’d be biased when it came to choosing his back-up? Slytherins think weirdly, Sirius is very aware of that after growing up surrounded by their lot. “Looks like your information is mistaken. My brother would never quit the -”

“Literally, Sirius, he just repeated what you told him to say,” James counters exasperatedly, Remus nodding in agreement.

Why’s he gotta make it sound like Sirius didn’t know that? He did, okay! Better than anybody in this room, he knows his brother is a little shit. 

“I knew that, of course.”

James ignores him, which is massively not nice. His attention moves to the former-Slytherin Seeker, oh how it causes Sirius immeasurable pain to even think that, sitting crossed-legged on his bed. “Did you quit the Quidditch team, Regulus?”

An answer doesn’t come right away. Regulus’s expression remains blank, but there’s an obvious, to Sirius at least, flicker of panic in his eyes.

“Potter, what goes on in my life is absolutely none of your business, so if you would kindly butt out -”

It might not be James Potter’s business, but it definitely is Sirius’s.

“It’s my business, Regulus -”

The most scathing, derisive laugh Sirius has ever heard in his life… which says a lot, given the women he’s related to… comes out of his brother’s mouth. “You of ALL people, brother, have no bloody right to know what I do or don’t do.”

“Regulus -”

“DON’T YOU ‘REGULUS’ ME!” The three Gryffindors flinch at the shift in volume, shocked by the abrupt change. Regulus never loses his composure, ever. “YOU LEFT ME, SIRIUS, YOU LEFT ME WITH THEM, CREEPING OUT OF THE HOUSE IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT, LEFT ME BEHIND LIKE SOME UNWANTED PIECE OF RUBBISH, SO DON’T YOU DARE TRY AND TELL ME YOU SHOULD BE PRIVY TO MY LIFE, ESPECIALLY WHEN I’VE NEVER BEEN PRIVY TO YOURS!”

“That’s… t-that’s not fair,” Sirius whispers hoarsely, choked by a familiar sensation of guilt. He should have tried harder to get his brother to come with him, should have made Regulus come with him, just snatched him out of his bed, tossed him over his shoulder, and made a break for freedom. He knows how to Apparate, Father taught them both years ago, the paranoid git, Sirius just needed to get out of the front door, off the porch, and then from the safety of Potter Manor, he could have explained to Regulus that this was best for both of them -

James, the best mate a bloke could have, leaps to Sirius’s defense. “He asked you to come -”

“Piss off, Potter,” Regulus snaps, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. “He did not, and you weren’t there either, so I’m sorry to tell you, but your best mate is a liar -”

“Sirius isn’t a liar -”

“I asked you to come!” Sirius cries, finding his tongue. “I did, Reg, but you ignored me.”

His brother rolls his eyes. “Fine, not a liar, but delusional.” Detangling himself from the bedsheets, Regulus stands up, looking like the haughty, proud Pureblood heir he now is. “This was a waste of time, good fucking day to all of you -”

Stop him! his inner voice cries, but Sirius is too distraught to move, frozen with fear, what if Regulus is better off without me, I wasn’t a very good big brother, not when I left Regulus in that house of horrors, hardly even tried to get him to leave -

Having made it five paces away from James’s bed, Regulus suddenly stumbles, tripping over the boot Sirius had been searching for this morning. Remus, bless those werewolf reflexes, reaches out to steady him, earning an embarrassed thanks from the Slytherin.

Narcissa will look after him now, she might be a stuffy Pureblood snob, but at least she’s responsible, and she cares about Regulus, she’ll keep him out of trouble -

Halfway to the door, it happens again. This time, the culprit is James’s bookbag. Thankfully, the boy in question catches the youngest Black before he hits the ground, hoisting him back to his feet. 

The Marauders exchange a quick series of ‘what the fuck’ looks.

“Alright?” James hovers close to the Slytherin, arms extended in the event he takes another tumble.

Poor Regulus looks like he’s about to combust, probably from a mixture of mortification and rage. “This room is disgusting, you all live like swine -”

“Are you pissed, Reg?” Sirius blurts, ignoring his boyfriend’s ‘you-could-be-more-tactful’ sigh. “Got in your cups this morning? Is that why you came here? For a Sober-Up potion? To talk about your drinking problem? Except, you fell asleep while waiting for us, is that it? No judgment, little star! Just wanna know what’s wrong, so we can help -”

“I do not have a drinking problem -”

“Alright, maybe the beginnings of a problem -”

“And I’m not drunk! Or even the slightest bit tipsy. Merlin, Sirius, it’s like 11am -”

“It’s 2pm, actually,” James interrupts, glancing down at his watch.

“Aunt Cassie never cared what the time was!” Sirius counters, hands on his hips. “Which you surely know about, it wasn’t the best kept family secret by any means.”

With crimson-stained skin, exactly like Aunt Cassie’s when she had too many glasses of champagne, his brother screeches, “I am NOT like Aunt Cassie!”

Remus loudly clears his throat before Sirius can point out Aunt Cassie denied having a drinking problem literally the day before she died from alcohol poisoning. “Maybe it would be beneficial if we let your brother tell us why he came here, Sirius?”

Regulus’s cheeks puff out, and Sirius braces himself for more yelling, maybe some cursing, but neither happens. Instead, his brother lets out all in air at once. “I wanted my ears pierced.”

The words cause a flood of thoughts to fill Sirius’s head.

Always knew I was a trendsetter!

Oh Godric, my little sweet Reggie wants to be like me again, I can’t believe it!

Wait… is this the start of Regulus’s rebellious phase?

Is he rebelling because he’s just at that age, or for some hidden, deeper reason?

Is this a cry for help?

Is he going through a break up?!

Is he trying to… hurt himself?...

Sirius’s last thought doesn’t stay in his head. “Reggie… are you depressed?”

Rather than change his hair, too obsessed with its beauty to risk ruining it, Sirius might have impulsively decided to get his ears pierced during a time of great inner turmoil. Was he depressed at the time? Mmm… anxious and restless seemed a better fit. He just had to do something, needed a change, a change he had control over.

“I wasn’t before I came here, but after this conversation,” Regulus answers emotionlessly, “don't be surprised if instead of returning to Slytherin, I fling myself off the Astronomy Tower.”

Sirius wants to have a word with whatever jerk made his sweet baby brother into this sassy, sarcastic, dramatic… oh wait, oops, that might be his own fault…

Darn.

Leaving the brothers to their glare-off, James starts rifling through the trunk he shares with Sirius. “Hey, Regulus, you want a Chocolate Frog?”

Not falling for that pathetic ruse, Regulus doesn’t look up until Sirius, very much against his will, blinks first. “I’m not stupid enough to eat food from -” The sweet smacks into his chest, falling to the ground with a sad thud.

…

… ?

“What the fuck?” Sirius asks the room in general.

What the fuck, why is James throwing candy at his brother?

What the fuck, how could the best Seeker at Hogwarts not catch the Chocolate Frog? Or even react until the last second? What happened to his reflexes?

He really is drunk, isn’t he?

“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM, POTTER?!” Regulus seethes. 

He doesn’t pick up the sweet to chuck it back at James. 

Rather, he draws his wand.

Remus breaks out his most soothing, ‘there’s-a-furious-Black-that-needs-to-be-calmed-down-before-they-blow-up-half-the-castle’ voice, “This doesn’t need to be a fight, we can talk it out. James, that was rude, surely you know that, but I’m going to give you the -”

“Benefit of the doubt?!” Regulus sneers. “Please, it’s just some stupid power move -”

“He can’t see.”

Silence follows James’s pronouncement, Regulus’s indignant complaining coming to an abrupt halt. Denials? Those aren’t immediately forthcoming, either, making Sirius more inclined to believe what his friend said was true.

… his brother can’t see?

So many things make sense now.

Oh Merlin, he wasn't glaring, he was squinting, his poor, poor Regulus.

… so many more things don’t make sense.

No, stop brain, that’s a ridiculous accusation. You would know if Regulus couldn’t see! Or had any vision issues whatsoever… how many times did you catch him reading in low lighting in the dead of night?

Well, another voice in Sirius’s head muses, because he’s crazy like that, that was a long time ago, when’s the last time you peaked into his room and saw him reading when he should be asleep?

You just want it to be true because that would mean there’s a chance he didn’t actually see you the night you left! Had you not been so cowardly, had you actually gone into his room rather than stand in the doorway like a creeper, it wouldn’t matter whether he could see or not.

Was it so wrong to hope that night was all a misunderstanding, that Regulus thought he was having another night terror, like he used to have as a child? Was it so wrong to hope that his brother might have heard him out, had he realized his sibling was legitimately standing in his doorway?

“That’s preposterous!” Regulus looks imploringly to his older brother. “Potter is off his rocker, brother. I can see just fine.”

“Off my rocker, am I?” the Chaser contends. “You can see just fine?”

“That’s what I said!”

“Oi!” Sirius shouts when James pulls out his wand. “Mate, I love you, but cursing my baby brother -”

With a swish of James’s wand, Peter’s duvet floats off his bed to block out the light streaming in through the window, plunging the room into darkness. Another swish, and four candles flicker to life, one on each of their nightstands. No longer pitch black, the room is filled with enough light to comfortably move about without risking breaking your neck, assuming you watched where you were walking, cough-Regulus-cough.

“Prove it then,” James confidently challenges. “Duel me.”

Remus, who undoubtedly can see just fine, stupid werewolf abilities, catches Sirius’s eye and subtly shakes his head, silently telling him to let it play out.

“This is asinine!” Regulus spits. “I don’t have to prove anything to -”

James’s expression turns mocking. “Aw, is wittle Baby Black scared?”

“You wish, Potter!”

Sirius does not like the idea of watching his brother duel his best mate. Generally, he trusts James not to hurt his sibling, and generally, he trusts Regulus not to hurt James, because they both know it would upset him. What he’s not so trusting of is - instances like this - where one’s pride is wounded, and the other is trying to prove a point.

And by golly, prove a point James does!

Regulus fires a blazing blue spell in the direction of James’s voice… only James moved out of the way as soon as the words came out of his mouth, smart enough to realize goading a Black is a massively risky endeavor.

The spell slices Peter’s bed curtains in half. “Bit wide, Reggie,” James taunts, looking unfazed by the Slytherin’s vicious spell selection. “Nice try, though.”

Sirius, however, does not feel the same ambivalence. “This isn’t an actual fight, brother -”

Regulus slings another curse, but it goes high and wide.

“Don’t worry, Padfoot, with an aim like that, I’ll be just fine.” 

With a growl, the Slytherin shoots off a volley of spells, hitting everything and everyone besides James.

“Watch it, Regulus!” Sirius snaps, while Remus quickly repairs the damage his brother wrought upon their room. “You nearly took my head off.”

“I’m starting to think you’re not trying that hard,” the Chaser jeers. “What if I stand in one place, hm? Think you could hit me, then?”

Even in the low lighting, Sirius can see his brother’s flushed skin, a telltale sign of his fury… and while Regulus is nowhere near as volatile and malicious as other members of their family, Sirius sadly among them, he is still a Black, and a furious Black is never good. 

Closing his eyes, Regulus stands stock still, not even breathing, one second, two second, three, four; his next spell is aimed perfectly, though it doesn’t hit its target, thanks to James’s swift shield charm.

“Now, that’s more like it!” James praises, sounding genuinely pleased. “One of the ways you get by is by using your hearing, is that it? Sirius always said you were sensitive to sound.”

“NEITHER OF YOU SHOULD BE TALKING ABOUT ME!”

Remus and Sirius exchange a look.

Yep, time to put an end to this malarkey before somebody actually gets hurt.

Receiving a thumbs up from his boyfriend when it’s okay to proceed, Sirius utilizes a handy little trick Grandmother once taught him… placing two fingers in his mouth, his ear splitting whistle has Regulus hurriedly covering his ears, his wand no longer pointed at James.

“That is enough!” Remus shouts after removing the spell that temporarily blocked his hearing. He scowls at the third Marauder, who’s rubbing his ears with a sheepish grin. “You made your point, James.”

“Sorry,” the Gryffindor murmurs sincerely to Regulus. “I didn’t mean to take it so far, Regulus, honest.”

No one is overly surprised when the youngest Black raises his wand again.

Nonverbally disarming his brother, Sirius snatches the wand out of the air. “I’ll take that, thank you. Our room is messy enough as it is, and Remus has better things to do than clean up after you… like, for example, cleaning up after me.” His angelic smile doesn’t waver under his boyfriend’s ‘bitch, you wish’ look. “So, unless you’re going to fling organizing spells around, you can have this back later.”

Holding his hand out, Regulus wiggles his fingers in the universal way of saying ‘give it to me, now’. “I’ll fling organizing spells around.” 

Telling Sirius exactly what he wants to hear, is he? Not falling for that again! And people wonder why he has trust issues, sheesh.

Adamantly against the idea of giving his incensed brother a weapon, Sirius instead places his hand in Regulus’s outstretched palm. Refusing to let go when the brat tries to pull away, he guides his crabby sibling to the plush carpet in front of his bed.

“Now,” he begins once his brother is settled, their backs resting against the footboard, “what’s this about you not being able to see?”

“I can see,” Regulus sniffs, lifting his nose all pompously, like that’s enough to convince Sirius, puh-lease. “Potter’s just exaggerating. Things are just… blurry. Especially if they’re far away.”

Sirius tries not to sound accusatory when he asks, “How come I didn’t know about this? And how have you played Quidditch up until this point?” Something suddenly occurs to him. “Is that why you quit?!”

“I quit, because unlike you, my future and my grades are important to me -”

Absolutely not buying that bologna. “One, I saw your report card this summer, your grades are almost as good as mine, two, you love Quidditch more than anything in the world, reading included, and three, let’s be realistic, Regulus! Even when I was heir, you were never going to be allowed to get a job… rich Purebloods don’t work, how degrading! I never understood why Mother and Father harped on grades so much, I mean, really, what do O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s even matter? As long as we learned the material, who cares?”

“They matter to me!” Regulus cries, sounding aghast by Sirius’s take on the education system.

Remus comes to sit on Sirius’s other side. “People have different priorities, love.”

“Exactly! See, brother, your boyfriend is much -”

Sensing an impending vent, riddled with insults that will leave lasting ouchies, Sirius hastily interjects. “Okay, we have different priorities, you’re right. Tell me about your eyesight, please.”

His brother goes on to explain that since he was about eleven, right before Hogwarts, his vision started getting increasingly blurrier every year. First, he had trouble seeing when it was dark, then it was objects at far distances, and it progressed from there. But he made adjustments; sitting in the front row during lessons, relying on his hearing to compensate for his vision, doing his schoolwork during the day when it’s lighter, using temporary vision-correcting spells when needed. It made sense, Sirius supposes, that Regulus would avoid detection for so long. He always strived to not call attention to himself, and he was smart enough to find workarounds for any problem he ran into.

“Pardon the pun, but it’s not that serious,” Regulus quips, and Sirius snickers out of habit. “Honest, Siri. It’s just a minor inconvenience.”

Every ounce of mirth disappears when his best mate sheds some additional light on the situation.

“Not that serious?!” James cries from where he’s sitting on his bed, staring incredulously at the youngest Black. “A minor inconvenience?! Regulus, it was enough to get you banned from the Quidditch team! How is that not a serious issue?”

“Banned?” Remus wheezes, having just taken a sip from the goblet of water he summoned from his nightstand.

Pounding his boyfriend on the back, Sirius stammers out, “How… what? Banned?! How do you get banned for not being able to see?!”

Not the greatest at lying on the spot, Regulus sputters out denials, eventually gathering himself enough to snarl, “There’s no ban, nor is my eyesight bad enough to impact my flying -”

“So you really were cheating?” James yells accusingly. “Just like they said, huh?”

“Whoever is feeding you such blatant lies must recognize you’re the type of sucker who will believe anything!”

“I admit, I am rather inclined to believe Slughorn and McGonagall,” James counters hotly, his arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah, don’t have anything to say to that, do you?”

“I have a lot to say, actually. I am NOT a cheater, and you need to mind your own bloody business -”

“You said that last part already,” James interrupts, bravely turning his attention away from the youngest Black to look at Sirius and Remus. “So, apparently, Regulus has been compensating for his poor eyesight by using vision correcting spells during matches. And according to the rule book, those types of spells are banned for Seekers, after normal-sighted players were using them to sharpen their eyesight to find the Snitch.”

Remus frowns. “Those spells are nearly impossible to detect, though. Forbidding them is essentially an honor-system type deal.”

“Unless you use them so frequently, it leaves a magical residue.”

The pieces suddenly fall together for Sirius. “The last match of the season! That Ravenclaw Seeker elbowed you in the side of the head, you had blood dripping everywhere from a cut the padding on his arm made against your skin. I remember hearing there was concern that your eye was injured… they discovered it in the Hospital Wing, didn’t they?”

“Yes, congratulations,” Regulus hisses, wrapping his arms around himself. “You figured out the great mystery of how Regulus Black fucked his life up. And just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse,” he drops his gaze to the plush carpet, “surprise.”

Heart squeezing in his chest, Sirius cautiously places a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I couldn’t stay there any longer, Reg, I'm sorry. I only stayed as long as I did because I didn’t want to leave you.”

A beat of silence passes.

And then another.

Then one more.

Suddenly, his brother raises his head, shakes Sirius’s hand off, and roars, “SALAZAR’S SAGGY TITS, DO YOU EVER GET TIRED OF THINKING THE WORLD REVOLVES AROUND YOU, SIRIUS ORION?!”

Taken aback by the crassness, Sirius unthinkingly mutters, “Well, yeah, ‘course I do. It’s exhausting, and a lot of pressure, not to mention the paranoia…” 

Low and behold, his unfiltered response actually makes his brother laugh, a sincere sounding one too, yay!

It gives him the courage to ask about the few things he’d like clarification on. “So, wait… you didn’t actually quit, you got booted for ‘cheating’?” He makes sure his air quotes are audible in his voice. “But if Madam Pomfrey and Sluggy learned last semester that you can’t see… why can you still not see?”

His brother shrugs. “Technically, I quit. It was either quit first, or get an official ban. Only Fawley knows the truth, so I’d appreciate it if you keep this to yourselves, because I can assure you, you will not enjoy my retribution.” Fully believing his sincerity, the Gryffindors vow to stay silent. “To answer your other question, she gave me a vision test, but it’s not like she could prescribe me glasses from the Hospital Wing. And even if she could…” Regulus would never wear them, at least in public. Blacks don’t have outward deficiencies. “To be fair to her, she offered to write to Mother and Father on my behalf, but of course, I declined.”

Of course.

Because it would only cause more problems for him. Their parents would waste time hemming and hawing over the missive, then blame Regulus for his genetically shitty vision. Even if he bravely endured their harping, they still wouldn’t help him. He’d have to be practically blind or on death’s doorstep before maybe they’d think of getting involved. Until Regulus was 17, a legal adult in the wizarding world, and could advocate for himself, he was screwed.

“Banned,” Sirius echoes, gobsmacked. “Banned.”

As if in a daze, he stands up and starts pacing the room again, his thoughts in a whirlwind.

They… they banned Regulus, his baby brother, they banned Sirius’s baby brother from Quidditch, the sport he loved… pretty much the only thing he loved besides reading and being a swot… the sport he could go pro in, if he decided to stop listening to Mummy dearest… they took away one of the few things that Regulus finds genuine happiness in, all because he was trying to SEE… they didn’t even offer to help him, not anything substantial, just banned him, then wiped their hands clean of it after checking the required boxes, didn’t even tell Sirius, who could have done something because he’s clever and more stubborn than all of them combined, they simply let Regulus continue on with his life, his vision getting poorer and poorer, while Sirius went on ignorant that Regulus was struggling, his baby brother, unable to see, and no one cared -

Hands grip his shoulders. “Sirius, sweetheart, you need to breathe… you’re hyperventilating.”

“They… they banned my brother from playing… from playing a school sport… a sport he loves… no one offered viable help… he’s a good kid, Rem… but because he’s a Black… not their problem, then, is it… except our parents don’t fucking care either… no one told me… I could have helped, I would have, I swear it… Rem, he can’t see to the point where it’s affecting his SAFETY -"

Someone tackles him to the ground, moments before an ear-splitting explosion shakes the room. Glass rains down on them, Sirius protected from the brunt of the blast by Remus’s arms covering his head.

Damnit!

Not again.

“Whoopsie, heh,” Sirius giggles uneasily from under his boyfriend’s lithe form. Fuck, Remus is going to break up with him before the month’s over at this rate. “Thanks, Remmy, you’re a doll.”

Used to the chaos of Sirius’s accidental magic by now, seeing as how he’s an emotional wreck and always has been, stupid incestuous Blacks, Remus pecks him on the nose. “Feel better?”

“Yeah,” Sirius admits quietly, ashamed. He lets Remus help him up and check him for any injuries after clearing the glass off them, knowing how his boyfriend’s inner wolf gets when his ‘mate’ might be hurt (technically, Sirius doesn’t have an inner wolf, but he understands Remus’s furry side way better than most would). “I’ll fix that in just a ‘mo… Reg, you good?”

Given everything that just happened, a sarcastic response wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities. But it coming from James of all people, rather than their Sassy Slytherin, was not expected. “I’m fine, thanks for asking!”

“Well, I am suffocating, Potter,” Regulus whines. “For the love of Merlin, release me, you brute! I think I broke a rib.”

Wrapped in a wolf-hug, as Sirius likes to call it in his head, he frantically taps his boyfriend on the shoulder, a silent command for him to turn around and see what Sirius is seeing.

His best mate evidently anticipated the outburst, sigh, probably recognized the warning signs. In a bid to put some distance between Regulus and the window he’d been worryingly close to, James dragged the youngest Black off Sirius’s bed and onto the floor (he has a vague recollection of his brother muttering, ‘I will set fire to this Tower if you step on me, Siri!’ while he was pacing the room, absorbed in his thoughts). Like Remus did for Sirius, James Potter, a Gryffindor through and through, protected Regulus with his body, he couldn’t just use a shield charm, did he really have to climb all over Reg like that? Now, the two were on the floor, Regulus sitting crossed-legged with James in front of him, who was seated on his knees; his brother had an shy grin on his face, while James fussed over him, fixing his hair, brushing dust off his clothes, making sure he banished all the glass, that Reg wasn’t injured. Softly talking back and forth, content, like it was just the two of them in the room, and that was perfectly acceptable in their minds, their previous animosity was completely and totally gone -

“Do you think…?” Remus whispers in Sirius’s ear. He doesn’t finish his sentence, because he doesn’t need to. 

“I’m going to be completely honest… my brain can’t handle those thoughts right now. My innate reaction is outrage, and the follow-up response is a battle cry for blood. And like,” Sirius heaves a sigh, “I don’t wanna tear apart the Marauders, Rem. Or break the Potters’ hearts.”

Remus’s breath ghosts along the shell of Sirius’s ear, causing goosebumps to break out along his arm. “You killing James would make me very sad.”

“And it’s my sacred duty as your boyfriend to ensure your happiness. I take my responsibilities very seriously.”

Remus’s groan is swallowed by Sirius’s lips when he steals a quick kiss. Then, without moving from their spot on the floor, he helps Sirius put the room back to rights, the original mess included, heh, knew he’d cave in, I am too tempting… and pathetic… to resist.

Just as they finish putting the last book in its place, Regulus’s bright peal of laughter steals their attention. Despite their previous discussion of the matter, Sirius almost has another fit when he looks over to see James whispering in his brother’s ear, eerily similar to what Remus was doing with him moments ago. Except it’s not just James who’s out of line either. In a shockingly flirty move, his usually demure brother pulls James’s glasses off, puts them on his own face, and then poses like he’s doing some sort of modeling photoshoot. Benevolently, Sirius lets them giggle together for a moment, lets Regulus preen with pride at making James flustered, lets James blush over having Regulus’s undivided attention, and then, he swiftly intervenes.

“Reg!”

With obvious reluctance, his brother turns his attention to his sibling. “Quoi? Is Remus not paying enough attention to you?” Jeez, take it down a notch with the sass!

James puffs out his chest. “Oi! Why is he Remus, and I’m Potter?”

“I don’t know, James,” Regulus purrs, “maybe because that’s your name?”

Remus squeezes Sirius’s hand, kind of harshly actually… damnit, he was making the furniture rattle.

“Still want your ears pierced, brother?”

HA! Who has Regulus’s undivided attention now, Prongs?

Perking up, the Slytherin responds in the affirmative. 

Not one to give up easily, James helps Regulus to his feet… wasn’t chivalry dead? Sirius is very against Inferi, nasty dark magic that is… and Regulus glides across the room, too prim and proper to run/bounce/skip like Sirius does when he’s excited.

With unusually wide eyes and his bottom lip jutted out, Regulus sweetly asks, “Please brother, may I pick a few pairs of earrings from your collection?” Lalalala, Sirius is not falling for that manipulation! “Knowing your shopping habits, I’m sure there’s plenty you’ve yet to wear, and perhaps, regret buying.”

Fuck.

How dare his brother know him so well!

“Since you have the best taste in everything, jewelry especially, I’m sure even the ones you have buyer’s remorse over are stunning.”

Fuck.

“D’accord,” Sirius exhales with a roll of his eyes, acting like it’s a major hardship. “But I get final say on what you take!”

Across the room, James picks up something from the ground. “Regulus, I think you dropped this?” 

Even from a distance, Sirius recognizes exactly what he’s holding.

Eyes drifting to the right, he finds his brother’s gaze already on him. Something about the apprehensiveness in Regulus’s eyes, the inexplicable nervousness in his demeanor, has Sirius racing towards his best mate.

“Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me!” Panicked, James raises the letter above his head. “I don’t want to be a part of this narrative!” 

Taller than both of them, when the fuck did Regulus outgrow me AND James… that’s gotta be a crime, where can I protest this injustice?, the Slytherin snatches the letter out of the air.

Sweet, naïve Regulus smirks victoriously, thinking it’s over, thinking he won and that was it; Sirius drags him into a headlock.

“Let go of me!” Regulus flails, struggling in his brother’s grip.

Swiping the letter with a gleeful, “Gladly!” Sirius shoves his brother towards James, before making an escape to hide behind Remus… who shifts to the side, just in time for Regulus to barrel into him. 

Ah, while the youngest Black might have the height, Sirius has the weight, strength, and pettiness advantage.

Angrily rubbing the spot on his arm where Sirius sunk his teeth, Regulus sneers, “You’d do anything to win, wouldn’t you, Sirius?” Hair and robes askew after the scuffle, it’s hard to take him seriously. “Whatever it takes to come out on top, huh? How very ambitious of you, brother.”

“Nobody likes a sore loser, Reggie,” Sirius sniffs. Now he’s more curious than ever to see what Mummy dearest is writing to her baby. “I won, fair and square.”

“You bit me!” Regulus cries at the same time as Remus and James, the traitors, scoff, “You bit him.”

“Brotherly quarrels, different rules.” He waves his free hand dismissively. “You’re both only children, I don’t expect you to understand.”

“He says we're brothers, but he’d skin me alive if I sunk my teeth into him,” James says to Remus.

Oh, what a riot! 

“Fun fact for ya, I’d also skin Regulus alive if he bit me,” Sirius points out with a shrug. His brother has never dared, not after that one time when they were basically toddlers. Since then, Reggie preferred to fight with his claws. “Your argument is invalid.”

“He doesn’t call me his brother,” Remus smirks, winking cheekily at Sirius, “but he likes it when I sink my teeth into him. Maybe that’s the difference.”

Don’t blush in front of your brother, don’t brush in front of your brother.

James makes a show of pretending to gag. “Blegh, I hate you guys.”

“For once, Potter, we’re in agreement,” Regulus grimaces. “But fine, whatever Sirius, have it your way.”

If his brother is intending to guilt trip him, he’s barking up the wrong tree -

“What are you doing?” Sirius demands when Regulus starts rifling through his nightstand.

Regulus doesn’t respond, but everyone sees him slipping something into his pocket. Evidently, before his departure back to the Slytherin Dungeons, they’re going to need to pat him down.

Turning his attention to the letter in his hand, Sirius is about to begin reading when James suddenly cries out.

Glancing up, it takes Sirius an embarrassingly long time for his brain to process the atrocious scene in front of him.

Standing next to the window, Regulus dangles Grimmy out into open air, one hand wrapped around his neck, the other gripping the closed pocket knife Uncle Alphard gifted Sirius a few Christmases ago. The brothers each received a set, one to keep at home, one for ‘travel’. Fuck, the knife Sirius left at Grimmauld Place was in the drawer of his nightstand, wasn’t it? He doesn’t bother asking how Regulus knows that - there’s a slight possibility he discovered it after Sirius ran away, but in all likelihood, he knew it was there for a while, the nosy bugger.

He’s bluffing, he wouldn’t, not for something stupid like a letter, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t…

… what if he would?

“Awfully hard to use a ‘Reparo’ when all the pieces are scattered about,” Regulus remarks indifferently, recklessly perching on the window ledge. If Sirius tries to grab Grimmy, there’s a risk he knocks his brother out of the window, or worse, his brother and Grimmy. “I mean, sure, it would work, technically, but would dear old Grimmy ever be completely the same?”

Through clenched teeth, Sirius hisses, “Give. Him. BACK!”

“No.”

“You can have your stupid letter, brother, I won’t read it!”

“Giving in so easily, Sirius?” Regulus clicks his tongue. “Well, truthfully, I expected better. But you can keep it. You wanted it so badly, or have you forgotten already?” He inclines his head towards Remus. “My brother’s always had a fickle attention span, I hope you won’t be too heartbroken when he dumps you for the next piece of arse that crosses his path.”

“DON’T TALK TO HIM LIKE THAT!” Heart starting to pound, Sirius wrestles to stay in control of his magic. “This is between us, Regulus, leave my boyfriend out of it.”

“Regulus, you don’t have to do this,” Remus appeals, hands raised placatingly.

Calm as can be, James adds to the argument, “Grimmy didn’t do anything to deserve your wrath, Reg. He’s not a part of this battle.”

“Battles are always wrought with the death of innocents, Potter!” Regulus angrily retorts. “It’s unfortunate, but that’s the way the world works.”

A deep growl builds in Sirius’s throat. “You’re about to commit a war crime, Regulus Arcturus. So I want you to take a second and ask yourself… are you willing to endure the consequences of my retribution? Because I swear to you, little star, I will not forget this, and I will NEVER, ever forgive you.”

There’s a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth, like maybe he’s about to frown. But with a shake of his head, Regulus’s blank mask returns. “Any last words?”

Instinctively, Sirius lunges forward, but then his brother presses the button to release the blade, freezing him in his tracks. “I WILL MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL, REGULUS, SO FUCKING HELP ME -”

A hysterical laugh bubbles out of the Slytherin’s mouth. “Bit too late for that, brother!”

And they say Sirius is the dramatic one?!

“Holy fucking shit, Regulus, I understand you’re upset about the Quidditch team stuff, I get it, and you’re pissed at me for being an arse, which is valid, because I was totally out of line… but is it really worth all of this  Reg, I’ll make it up to you… I’ll go talk to McGonagall right now, and you’ll be back on the team by the day’s end.”

James nods vigorously. “He’s very convincing.”

“You both are so insanely conceited, how do your big heads fit in this room?” Sirius almost barfs when his brother lackadaisically readjusts his grip on Grimmy. “Why on earth would she listen to you?” His laugh is much too bitter for a fifteen-year-old. “Ooh, gonna throw your surname around? To be quite honest, I don’t think that’ll get you very far anymore.”

Sirius sneers. “Relying on your family name to get by makes you weak, brother. All I have to do is point out that you weren’t cheating, you’re blind as a newborn kitten -”

“Please, and when that doesn’t work?” Regulus scoffs. “Which it won’t.”

“Trust me, she’ll see it my way. Minnie is very reasonable, you know.”

It’s hard to tell if Regulus’s eyes are narrowing in suspicion, or if he’s squinting to see. 

“You’re poor now, so there’s no way you’re going to attempt bribery.” Wow, rude. “Are you… you’re going to threaten her?” Suspicion, it is. “You’re going to threaten Minerva McGonagall?!”

Sirius makes a so-so gesture. “I prefer to think of it more as making a promise.”

“No!” Remus cries, looking horrified. “You will do no such thing, Sirius! You can’t… you can’t threaten McGonagall!”

How is he so darn cute when he gets all aghast?!

“I would pay good money to see her face,” his brother admits ruefully.

There’s a snort of laughter from the other side of the room. James quickly wipes the grin off his face when Remus turns his Prefect glare his way.

“I’m not sure I want to know, but I’m going to ask anyway… what precisely are you going to threaten her with?”

Wistful sigh… James really is my platonic soulmate, isn’t he?

His lips break into the smile Lily Evans once told him looked ‘demonic’. “If she thinks she knows how irritating, how bothersome, how utterly obnoxious I can be, then she has another thing coming, because I’ve only brushed the surface of my abilities. Over the last five-ish years, she’s seen nowhere close to my full potential.”

Self-awareness can be cumbersome, but Sirius understands that he’s different. And not in the ‘nobody understands me’ way Regulus used to bemoan about (Merlin was he grateful when Reggie grew out of that).

To his core, Sirius Orion Black is inexhaustibly annoying.

Ironically, Growing-Up-Black taught him how to reign in that inner-chaos. And sure, he’s coming to understand that he doesn’t need to be that closed off, but not even the Marauders have seen who he is at his essence. He’s not ashamed of who he is, at least not that part of himself, but gasp, Sirius Black is indeed cognizant that other people exist, and he should be respectful of them… to an extent, of course. He’s working on it.

“Honestly… that could do it,” James muses, running a hand through his hair. “She would take you very seriously.”

“As she should!”

Remus heaves an offensively huge sigh. “I think you just took ten years off my life.”

“At least you still have a life,” Sirius hisses, glaring at his brother, who’s still holding his poor sweet Grimmy out of the window. “Look, Reg, I know asking for help goes against your principles, but you didn’t ask, I’m volunteering. So, let me work my magic, get everything squared away with McGonagall, then I’ve got some ideas about the vision thing too, a permanent fix that doesn’t involve bifocals or the like -”

Readjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose, James grumbles, “I don’t see what’s wrong with glasses, but okay.”

“You can’t fix everything for me, brother,” Regulus whispers tepidly, bringing Grimmy back into the room, thank fucking Merlin, is this finally over? “Here -”

One step, that’s how far he makes it before three voices shout out, “Stop!”

Sensing their urgency, Regulus goes stiff as a board. Making it to his brother’s side first, Sirius plucks the knife from his hands, the absolute last thing we need is Reg stabbing himself or someone else when he trips, I don’t care that the floor is now visible, and passes it to Remus to deal with. Head bowed, Regulus holds Grimmy out with two hands, like an offering. Slowly, cautiously, Sirius takes the stuffed dog from him, muscles tense, but Regulus doesn’t try anything funny.

Hugging his Grimmy to his chest, Sirius strokes a hand through his soft… damp?... fur. A quick glance behind Regulus confirms the sky is still sunny and cloudless.

His brother’s words trickle to the forefront of his mind.

You can’t fix everything for me, brother.

You figured out the great mystery of how Regulus Black fucked his life up worse than it already was. And just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, surprise.

“Alright, mate?”

 Without answering, Sirius shoves the plushie into James’s hands (after kissing the top of Grimmy’s head, of course).

Softly, he grips Regulus’s chin and tilts his head up. It’s not a surprise to find his brother’s gray eyes brimming with tears, but it still makes Sirius’s heart ache. 

“What did she do, Reggie?” It’s a question that needs to be asked, but Sirius is petrified to hear the answer. “Did she hurt you?”

Next to him, James’s breath hitches.

The younger teen huffs, sounding almost amused. “Physical pain is temporary.”

“Emotional pain is longer lasting, more memorable,” Sirius finishes succinctly. There’s a thousand different things, each more ghastly than the last, that she could have done to his brother after he left. Because he left. It’s futile to guess. “Tell me, Reg. Please. You know how my mind works, destined to always think the worst -”

“It’s… it’s worse than you’d ever think!”

Okayokayokay, what would Regulus think is terrible?

Oh shit.

“Did she behead Kreacher?”

Sirius knows his brother would be devastated, but as much as it pains him to think it, their Mother would probably be doing the world a favor…

Biting his lip, Regulus mumbles, “Maybe not that bad.” Drats, of course that old crone wouldn’t do anything halfway decent. “Your mind really does go to a dark place, brother.”

“We could be going at this all day,” Sirius quietly points out. “Come on, Reg… can’t help if I don’t know -”

It’s like a dam breaks. 

“I’m engaged!” Regulus shrieks, before promptly bursting into tears. 

He sobs once, twice, and then regains some degree of control, his tears pouring silently down his face. Letting Sirius yank him into an embrace, Regulus’s body curls in on itself to fit, something he never had to do when they were children (back when he was smaller than Sirius, like he’s supposed to be). Fuck, he legitimately can’t remember the last time his brother cried, it must have been before Hogwarts. Regulus has always been frighteningly good at suppressing his emotions.

Based on their previous conversation, his brother has long since come to terms with his ‘duty’ of marrying an acceptable wife their parents picked out, blah blah blah, so why the waterworks? As ick as it was to say, Regulus probably wouldn’t be overly upset if he was required to marry one of their cousins - at least he knew them.

“You’ve got a few years, Reggie, we’ll figure something out -”

“She… she said I had to get m-married this coming summer -”

WHAT?!

“You won’t even be seventeen!” James shouts in outrage. “Is that legal?”

“Sixteen at most,” Sirius angrily clarifies. “Fifteen depending on when the ceremony is!”

Remus grimaces. “With parental permission, a lot of shady stuff is legal.”

“I hate the government!” Regulus wails. He can’t see it, but Remus nods sagely, fully agreeing with his proclamation. “It’s such a scam, I can’t even vote, but I can be wed? Where is the logic, the sense?!”

“There, there, Reg,” Sirius coos, running a hand up and down his brother’s back. “We’ll get you out of it, or at the very least, delay it. My brother won’t be a child bride.”

“I don’t want to run away,” the Slytherin sniffs. “I don’t want to, Siri, I don’t! But…”

“But?” he prods, trying not to get his hopes up.

“She’s… she’s awful!” Regulus whimpers, a sound so distressing, it tugs Sirius’s heartstrings out of his body and incinerates them with dragon fire. He silently vows to do whatever it takes to get his brother out of this ridiculous engagement. “I mean, she’s pretty, I suppose, and she’s intelligent, supposedly, but the way she talks to her house elf is despicable!” Biting the inside of his cheeks, Sirius smothers down his very inappropriate laughter. “And fine, she’s not the only person who does that by any means, but while we were on what I now realize was a date,” oh sweet Merlin, he needs the story behind that, “the way she talked to the waiter? HORRIFYING, SIRIUS, IT WAS APPALLING! IN ALL MY YEARS, I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO EMBARRASSED, I WANTED… I WANTED TO DIE! LEGITIMATELY, I WANTED THE GROUND TO OPEN UP, OR THE ESTABLISHMENT TO BE RAIDED BY AURORS AND I’D GET STRUCK BY A STRAY SPELL IN THE CROSSFIRE, OR MAYBE -”

Easily embarrassed in general, but infinitely more so in social situations, Regulus saying ‘in all my years’ doesn’t seem like much. But add in how crazy/dramatic/attention seeking Blacks are notorious for being, and this fiance must be a right piece of work.

“We get it!” Poor James Potter, stuck with three sods who have dark, macabre sense of humors, while he’s a beacon of light on a cloudy day. “Don’t get me wrong, your feelings are valid, but -”

“Or maybe,” Regulus spitefully continues, his baleful glare trained on the Potter heir, “strangled to death by a Lethifold in the loo.”

Their resident expert on Dark Creatures, Remus Lupin, puts his two sickles in. “Given the shoddy foundations of establishments in the magical community, the ground opening up is much more likely than a Lethifold attack, since they’ve only been found in -”

“Tropical climates,” Regulus finishes. “Duh, everyone knows that. But emotions do not follow logic.”

“Actually, did you know -”

Oop, time to interrupt before this becomes a swot fest. “That’s a very high bar to reach.” Hugging his brother more tightly, Sirius smiles innocently at Remus, who huffs in mock-annoyance for the interruption. “My brain can’t even comprehend how anything could be worse than Great Aunt Araminta going on her Muggle-hunting rant in front of the entire restaurant on your 8th birthday.” 

Both brothers shudder at the memory.

“It gets worse,” the Slytherin confesses softly. “Much worse.”

Wringing his hands together, James anxiously asks, “Does she like… kill Muggles for sport?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised, considering she despises Quidditch.” The Gryffindor Chaser gasps like Regulus said she kills Muggles for sport and kicks babies. “Sirius, she’s… she’s allergic to cats.” The last part is spoken like it’s the most devastating, soul-crushing thing he’s ever heard. 

They never had pets, besides an owl when they went off to Hogwarts. Mother wouldn’t allow it. Regulus had been looking forward to adulthood, so he could acquire all the little beasties his antisocial heart desired. 

At the top of the list? 

A hoard of cats.

“She can take medicine?” Remus suggests. “My dad knew a lady who was deathly allergic, but she took one sip of a potion every morning, and she lived to a ripe old age with her twenty cats.” 

Regulus shakes his head. “I said the same thing, but Abby said it doesn’t work for her. Now, I might just be biased -”

Wait.

Wait, wait, wait.

“Abby?”

“My intended,” Regulus ‘clarifies’ without missing a beat, “but you see, it’s my personal opinion -”

“Short for Abigail?”

“No, it’s short for Aberforth.” Sirius lightly flicks him in the forehead for the snooty reply. “Obviously, it’s short for Abigail.”

What are the chances Mother wanted to marry her sons off to two different girls named Abigail? It’s possible, because surely Mother wouldn’t offer her prized son to that evil wench -

“Abigail Baudelaire.”

And people wonder why Sirius always expects the worst! 

Sweet baby Merlin! 

THIS

WAS

WHY

!!

Sirius accidentally forgets to use his inside-voice. “ABIGAIL BAUDELAIRE IS YOUR FUTURE WIFE?”

“Correct.” Regulus takes the opportunity to dry his eyes with the sleeve of his brother’s robe. “Monsieur Baudelaire was promised a Black, so a Black -”

“He will not get!” Sirius seethes, plots upon plots beginning to form in his head. “It’ll be over my dead body that… that… that STRUMPET he calls a daughter marries my baby brother. I’ll kill every last Baudelaire and Mother too if need be! If he wants a Black so badly, he can have the great hag herself, I’m sure Father would be pleased as a pickle to rid himself of her!”

With a grimace, Regulus hedges, “It’s not that bad, brother, no need to murder the entire fam -”

“She’s not allergic to cats,” Sirius interrupts, “she thinks they’re vile, savage beasts that poor, uneducated, and ill-mannered people collect as a way of bringing purpose into their wretched lives.” 

Was that a wee bit of an exaggeration? Mayhaps. Mostly because he couldn't remember what she said, having aimed to tune out as much of her shrill, toe-curling voice as he could. He does vividly recall thinking, ‘wow, Regulus would have a hissy fit if he heard such ignorance.’

“Probably should kill the neighbors too, they’ve likely been contaminated by the Baudelaire’s radicalism.”

Kissing the top of his brother’s head, Sirius laughs delightedly. “That’s the spirit, Reg!”

“Uh, need I remind you that murder is illegal!”

“Only if you get caught.” Remus winks at the Black brothers when the Potter heir starts sputtering that, “No, actually, killing people is always against the law, Remus, don’t encourage them!”

In a joyous reversal of roles, Remus presents his cheek for his earned smooch. Which he gets, of course, because Sirius isn’t a monster… and then Sirius gets a forehead kiss that leaves him feeling all gooey inside.

“Oi! Where’s my kiss?” James whines with an exaggerated pout. “I am feeling very unloved right now.”

Swallowing back his uncharitable, ‘Wouldn’t you rather get a kiss from, Reggie?’, he beckons James over. “Come here, you big baby.”

“Yay!” Bounding over, James presents his left cheek to Sirius, who plants a kiss on it with a loud, ‘mwah’. The Chaser moves to stand in front of Remus, slapping Sirius’s arse as he goes.

“Those forehead kisses are for me and me only, you slag!” Sirius jests with a playful punch to his best mate’s arm… ow, whelp, won’t be doing that again.

James beams, his perfectly straight teeth on full display. “Sharing is caring, Padfoot! You can’t have all of Moony’s forehead kisses, that’s just not fair.” Reaching for Sirius’s hand, he deposits three kisses across the smarting skin. “Besides, I kiss your booboos better -”

“You make my booboos.”

“Have I ever mentioned that I find all of you so very peculiar?” Regulus grouses, watching the Gryffindors joke around with a rather put-out expression.

“Aw, does Baby Black feel left out?” James teases, draping his arm over Sirius’s shoulders. “You can kiss the other cheek if you want.” He points to the right side of his face, but doesn’t move into Regulus’s bubble. “Mark your territory and what not.”

Sirius bares his teeth at the unsubtle canine reference, leading both James and Remus to smirk. Traitors everywhere.

Jaw clenching, the Slytherin silently stares at them in a way that people tend to find uncomfortable. But Sirius knows his brother’s thinking, weighing his options. Sometimes, he thinks for so long, the far opposite of Sirius, that he misses his chance to react.

After a good minute passes, James shrugs good-naturedly. “Guess -”

Still, Regulus doesn’t say anything.

Regulus doesn’t say anything…

… because Regulus’s actions speak for him.

Regulus doesn’t say anything, but he darts forward, pressing a firm kiss to James Potter’s tanned cheek.

His own porcelain cheeks now blaze crimson, but Regulus’s entire demeanor screams, ‘Didn’t think I would do it, did you? Shows how much you know!’

“So, Sirius!” Remus calls, his hand landing on the eldest Black brother’s shoulder. He squeezes, and when that isn’t enough to get his attention, lightly shakes. “Sirius, my love, you want to share your plans with us? I know you have several -”

“Murder,” Sirius growls, watching his brother and his best mate staring shyly at each other, blushing and giggling and whispering like two… two people who have crushes! On each other!

His boyfriend sighs. “Unless you’re planning to make some sort of blood sacrifice,” at that, Regulus rips his attention away from James, “that will restore Regulus’s eyesight -”

“Oh, that’s brilliant! ” the Black brothers cry at the same time.

They start excitedly muttering together in French, ignoring the other two Marauders.

“You're a bad influence, Remus,” James admonishes with a sigh.

Remus gapes at the pair. “I… I guess so? Huh.”

Remus John Lupin was unequivocally the best bullshitter in the Marauders, probably the best in the school when it came down to it. Sure, Sirius wasn’t bad by any means, especially if he had time to prepare, and James was decent, either on the spot or if he had time to think on it (poor Petey was too honest for his own good), but Remus? Maybe it was because no one expected it from the levelheaded and sensible Marauder, but blimey, was he convincing.

After unintentionally pushing the Black brothers down a rabbit hole of sacrifice rituals and murder plots, he swiftly dragged them back out of it, going on to convince them that if they wanted to boost Regulus’s eyesight to where it should be, to where Sirius’s was (James mentally took notes whenever Remus was working this particular type of magic - it was never a bad idea to slip a compliment in), they would frequently need to perform sacrifices, perhaps once or twice a month even, and wasn’t that just tedious? Worse, the only blood that could elicit such a drastic improvement was the blood of a relative, Black blood, and were they willing to spill that much… no Sirius, not just a few drops, we’re talking sacrificing a life, once or twice a month, and I know your family tree is big, but how long would you be able to keep it up before Regulus’s vision returned to its present state? No need to get discouraged, darling, there are legitimate, non-bloody ways to fix Regulus’s eyesight, we just need a bit of research, no, we’re not performing any procedures or diagnostic tests ourselves, I’m just aware of your trepidation towards medical professionals, so a bit of preparation beforehand would put all of us at ease, don’t you think? I’m sure the library has plenty of resources for which we can start.

Then, if that wasn’t impressive enough, Remus convinced the reluctant-to-separate Black brothers that splitting up for a few hours was in their best interests. Regulus would remain in Gryffindor Tower with James, while Remus and Sirius made a trip to the library, before then traversing down to Slytherin (with the aid of James’s Invisibility Cloak) to pack a few things for Regulus, who had agreed to stay the night. Unsurprisingly, Regulus wasn’t as easily swayed as his brother, ‘are you allergic to the library, Potter? Why can’t you go?’ (It was Sirius who explained, with no trace of remorse, that since the librarian couldn’t ban him and James all-together, she settled on forbidding them from being in the library at the same time, even if they were on opposite ends). Naturally, the Slytherin immediately countered with Remus and James pairing up; but without missing a beat, Remus pointed out that if Regulus wanted his ears pierced ‘right away, because I’m starting to think you’re leading me on’, his brother remaining behind wouldn’t do him any good.

“If this ends up being a prank, Potter, I will be most displeased.” The threat in Regulus Black’s voice was perfectly clear, so he absolutely did not need to take it a step further by adding, “It would warrant a lengthy report to my brother detailing precisely how you’ve wronged me.”

Out of Regulus’s line of sight, even if he had perfect vision, James shudders at the imagery the words induced. Sirius was already peeved with him as it is, James isn’t blind, not with his glasses on (he’ll never get the chance to flirt with Regulus again, he couldn’t let a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity pass by! He'll apologize to Sirius later, assuming he lives through this encounter). But if the overprotective sibling returns to tales of how his little brother was slighted in his absence, James’s title as ‘best mate’ won’t spare him from Sirius’s wrath.

While he might not be as prideful as a Black, James Potter still has plenty of self-respect, and he won’t just roll over and expose his belly, even if Regulus is really cute. “If this was a prank, which it’s not, but if it was, Sirius would surely be involved. So, you’d be wasting your time.”

James jolts when Regulus appears in the doorway of the loo, shining with indignant fury... how does he move so silently?!… oh wait, it’s probably from growing up in Grimmauld Place, ugh, Sirius was like that back in first year. The loo was going to be their base of operations, since it had much better lighting and more open space. But James first needed to collect all the necessary materials, which is easier said than done in the clutter of their dorm.

“I knew this was too good to be true, my brother would never allow -”

“I thought your hearing was good, Reg… ah-ha!” Triumphant, James lifts the piercing gun over his head. Why he thought Peter’s desk drawer was the best place for it, he’ll never know. “Found it.”

“It is -”

“Then, what part of ‘this is not a prank’ did you not understand?” James snorts, striding confidently towards the Slytherin.

Regulus glares suspiciously at the object in James’s hand. “What’s that?”

“The device that will pierce your ear,” he explains, sensing the underlying nervousness behind the question. Sirius had it too, even though the whole thing had been his idea... sort of.

The first night back at Hogwarts, James walked in on his best mate sitting on the counter in the loo, a sewing needle hovering next to his ear with wandless magic. It was obvious that Sirius was in the process of psyching himself up to shove it through his skin. Horrified, James accidentally turned the needle into a piece of string, oops, but after listening to Sirius whine for a bit, he offered his assistance... no, Sirius, not by doing it for you this very second, but I’ll do some research, so we can pierce it properly… Moony, come tell Sirius about how he’s risking losing his ear by doing it himself! (That’s how you know Remus was the best bullshitter; getting impulsive, stubborn, and proud Sirius Black to deny himself something he almost had in his grasp was an impressive feat).

Thanks to a combination of James’s impressive research skills, Peter gathering supplies by owling his aunt who was married to a Muggle, and Remus holding his prima donna boyfriend’s hand throughout the process, Sirius emerged with one tiny, perfectly-placed hole in each earlobe, and no infections.

“You’re not using your wand?” Regulus asks bewilderedly.

Sigh. 

“No, Regulus, I’m not -”

“It was just a question!” the Slytherin snaps, crossing his arms over his chest. “No need to be so huffy -”

James can’t help it… he laughs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, but it’s just… I had the same conversation with Sirius like ten times.”

Fun fact: the youngest Black scrunches his nose when he’s confused. 

Second fun fact: it’s unbelievably adorable. 

“But my brother loves Muggle gadgets.” 

It’s not phrased as a question.

“Gadgets that don’t risk damaging his ‘immeasurable beauty', sure,” James shrugs. “But he’s always suspicious of stuff he’s unfamiliar with, or doesn’t initially understand.”

Third fun fact: like Sirius, Baby Black aggressively paces across the floor when he rants (this particular venting session was centered around how ‘hypocritical’ his brother was for always telling Regulus he needed to ‘expand his horizons’, ‘try new things’, 'be more open-minded', ‘Muggle stuff is cool, Reggie’, ‘they’re so smart, those Muggles, you should see what they’ve made without magic’, ‘be brave, little star, the world is a wondrous place, full of wondrous, badass, punk rock things’).

While James arranges the tray he keeps the equipment and jewelry on, he subtly watches Regulus in the mirror behind him. The agitated pacing continues, but rather than ranting and raving, he mutters to himself in French. James has absolutely no idea what he’s saying, but he does notice the furtive glances directed his way.

Paranoid of messing up for any reason whatsoever, the Gryffindor takes a second to clean his own glasses, and… oh. 

How would you feel if your somewhat estranged brother’s best friend, who you barely knew, was going to shove a needle through your ear, but you couldn’t see shit? And that doesn’t even take into account the Black Family Trust Issues, or how Regulus might end up in a load of dung with his parents for it.

“Can you keep a secret?” James blurts, turning around to face the Slytherin.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Regulus nods eagerly. “Oh yes, of course, I’m a Black, you know, we’re excellent secret keepers -”

“From Sirius?”

It’s almost comical how fast his expression closes off. “No.”

… okay, did not expect that.

Damn, James didn’t really think this through, did he?

“It’s not a bad secret!” Fuck, he might as well just say it at this point. “Look, I know what Sirius said when he left, about how you shouldn’t use those vision-improving spells anymore, yada yada,” Remus literally had to wrap an arm around his boyfriend’s waist and carry him out of the room, otherwise they would have been there for the next ten years, “but if you would feel more comfortable casting one before we start, I’ll cover for you if he gets suspicious.”

There’s no response for an unnervingly long time. 

“Why?”

James anxiously runs a hand through his hair… he just expected Regulus to agree, he didn’t really plan having to explain his reasoning. “Why would I cover for you, or why am I suggesting using the spell?”

“The second one… actually, both.”

Moving closer, he places a hand on Regulus's arm. “We both know Sirius means well, but he has perfect vision, the lucky bastard.” Shockingly, he doesn’t shrug James off. “I, on the other hand, actually know what it’s like to not be able to see… it sucks arse.”

Rolling his eyes, the Slytherin playfully jeers, “Eloquent, Potter, your grammar tutors must have constantly lauded your talents.”

Posh git, James thinks fondly to himself.

Regulus takes out his wand, and since James likes to live on the edge, he turns his back to give the Slytherin some privacy. Everything is set up, but he shuffles the stuff around on the tray for something to do.

Glancing up to check to see if the Slytherin is done, he finds Regulus standing right behind him, once again startling James half to death

“You do that on purpose, don’t you?” the Gryffindor accuses, making a show of rubbing his pounding heart. 

His heart actually is pounding, but only a portion of that is from the fright; the main reason for the increased heart rate is due to how startling different Regulus looks now. He stands taller, more confident, his eyes bright with the sort of mischief James is used to seeing reflected in Sirius’s own.

“It’s my fault you’re deaf?” Regulus moves just a tiny bit closer, until he’s almost but not quite, pressed against James’s back. “What are you doing?”

Trying to talk myself down from having a panic attack over how I actually get to be near you right now, alone, just the two of us.

That would be mortifying to admit, and since James Potter is cool, he says, “Making sure everything is ready.” In a daring, bold, undeniably the craziest thing he’s ever done, he shifts ever-so-slightly, so his upper back touches Regulus’s chest, barely, but there’s contact.

Regulus surprises him again, this time by hooking his chin over James’s shoulder. “What’s that?” His right arm reaches around to point at some of the different pieces of jewelry. “Clearly, they aren’t earrings.”

The Gryffindor nearly passes out when, instead of dropping his arm back to his side, Regulus loosely wraps it around James’s waist.

Could this behavioral shift really be due to the vision-improvement spell? I… guess it’s possible? The only time he was so openly - flirty - with me earlier was when I was right in front of his face.

James definitely got the vibe the youngest Black was downplaying the severity of his condition - how poor was Regulus's vision really? Now that he’s thinking about it, James certainly wouldn’t walk confidently without his glasses. He’d be cautious and wary all of the time, because he’s essentially blind without them (he assumes a Regulus-who-can-see is only cautious/wary most of the time, rather than all of it).

Jutting his chin out and lifting his nose in the air, James does his best impression of a snobby Slytherin, complete with a posh drawl, an absolute must. “Your observation skills are astounding, Black.” 

He jerks wildly when the younger teen lightly pinches the skin of his abdomen.

“Potter.” Regulus's beautiful face fills with wicked glee, making it even more beautiful, fuck. “Potter! Are you… are you ticklish?”

“No!” Instinctively, James tries to curl in on himself. That expression does not bode well for his health and wellness. “Yes, fine, yes I am, but this is not the time!” The Slytherin moves his hand closer, and James automatically tenses in preparation for an attack. “Please, Regulus, there are needles right here, and you were asking very good questions -”

With a roll of his eyes, Regulus drops his hand back down. “Fine.”

“Really?” Evidently, Blacks aren’t the only ones with trust issues. “That’s it? Why?”

Slowly, so the Gryffindor can track his every move in the mirror, Regulus moves his mouth right next to James’s ear. “Truthfully? I like it when you beg, James.”

Regulus Black is going to be the death of him, he just knows it

“W-what ?!” the Gryffindor squeaks, blood rushing to his face. What happened to the shy flirting from earlier, the hesitancy? Not that James is complaining! But he is so fucking out of his depth right now, it's a strange position to be in. “You’re… you’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

One shoulder rises in a half-shrug. “Little bit. Delayed revenge after you revealed exceptionally personal information to Remus and Remus’s boyfriend,” James snorts at the description, until he realizes what exactly Regulus is saying, “and then demonstrated my health issues to previously mentioned individuals in a humiliating manner.”

James meets his gaze in the mirror. “Regulus, I’m so sorry. I got all… self-righteous and thought it was my business, when it wasn’t, I just wanted to help, but I took it too far, and I am so fucking sorry for everything -”

“Shut up, Potter.” Immediately, James snaps his mouth shut. “Ooh, I had no idea you’d be such a good boy, look at how you follow directions perfectly.” His shiver is a result of Regulus’s breath tickling the sensitive skin on the side of his neck, not from the mocking praise. “You being all remorseful makes it hard to stay angry. I think I’m allowed to be angry though, yeah?” Tentatively, James nods. “I’m pleased to have your approval. However, since I have enough to be angry about, I’ve decided to forgive you.” James raises an eyebrow. “Oh right, you may speak now.”

“Really?” He doesn’t care how pathetic he sounds, how he’s so obviously hopeful that Regulus is being sincere.

Regulus nods. “Pathetic, aren’t I? Can’t even hold onto a grudge for an hour, what kind of Black am I?” He scowls when James opens his mouth to respond. “That’s rhetorical. What I want to talk about is how the great James Potter is so ridiculously easy to fluster… I confess, I didn’t expect that.”

The great…

The great James Potter?

Whirling around, James’s lips lift into his cockiest, most self-assured smirk. “Oh? So, Regulus Black thinks that I,” he gestures to himself, “James Potter, am great?”

Regulus’s eyes widened, and he hurriedly stammers out, “I did n-not say that -”

“Actually, you did.” Oh, how the tables have turned. “You said, word for word, ‘the great James Potter’.”

“If I recall correctly,” the Slytherin haughtily drawls, falling back on what James is starting to recognize is a defense mechanism, “we’ve previously established you need to get your hearing checked.”

James wants to keep teasing him, loves those pink cheeks, and seeing his poise waiver, loves knowing he has an effect on the outwardly reserved boy (he used to think Regulus was inwardly reserved too, but these last twenty minutes proved that is so not the case). But the last thing he wants to do is push Regulus back into his shell.

“If you think I’m so great… which I am, by the way, thank you for noticing…” James tries exceptionally hard not to sound overly invested in the answer, or worse, hurt, “then why were you initially so against being left in the Tower with me for company?”

Regulus visibly cringes. “It… uh, it wasn’t personal.”

Pursing his lips, James debates on dropping it, but the need to know is too great. He thought they were getting along just fine after Sirius blew out the windows (again), so Regulus’s reluctance to remain with James and only James, stung. “I’m not gonna lie, Baby Black, it felt kind of personal.”

“Well, it wasn’t,” Regulus snaps, nostrils flaring. “You’re just like my brother, not everything is about you!”

Damn, alrighty then. Recognizing a losing battle when it’s right in front of his face, James is about to turn back around, when Regulus wraps a hand around his forearm.

Sheepishly, the Slytherin mutters, “I’m sorry, such rudeness was uncalled for.” Dropping his hand down, Regulus takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “It’s just that... being alone in a room with you, with no planned activity, seemed the epitome of discomfiting -”

Alone…

…with you…

Discomfiting.

Stomach sinking, James hurriedly takes a step back. “I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to -”

“Didn’t I say it wasn’t personal? It’s not you…” Regulus pulls a face. “Well, I suppose if we’re being technical, it actually is you… but then again, it’s also me… though, either way, it’s not your fault -”

Incredulous, James throws his hands in the air. “Please explain to me how I’m not at fault for making you uncomfortable? That sounds very much like my fault!”

“It’s not like it’s purposeful!” Regulus shrieks, voice rising in volume with each word. “Nor is that precisely what I said!”

“Perhaps not,” the Gryffindor responds softly, hoping to keep the situation from escalating. Does Regulus unintentionally cause explosions when he’s upset like Sirius does? He has no idea, nor any interest in finding out. Best to play it safe. “But if you kindly tell me what I do that makes you feel that way, then I can correct -”

“POTTER, I DON’T THINK YOU CAN CORRECT YOUR FACE!” Biting his lip, Regulus amends, “Okay, technically, you could, but you shouldn’t -”

James blinks. “What’s… what’s wrong with my face?”

He didn’t notice anything in the mirror, but maybe Regulus means a more permanent feature? He always did feel like his nose wasn’t perfectly proportioned, especially in comparison to his forehead -

"You want to know what's wrong with your face, Potter?"

"Yes?"

"You genuinely have no idea?"

"I... don't think so? No?"

"Are you serious?"

"... no, I'm James."

Regulus's face flushes an interesting shade of purple; apparently, James's joke was not appreciated, which is a shame... he thought it was hilarious.

“WELL, THEN I'M SORRY TO BE THE ONE TO BREAK IT TO YOU, BUT," he holds his breath in anticipation, "IT'S STUPIDLY ATTRACTIVE!”

“Oh… oh.”

Groaning, Regulus drops his face into his hands. “Merde, this is why I should not be allowed out of my room. I assumed my brother alluded to it over the years, so you’d already know I am not the best in social situations.”

Bouncing back from his previous dismay, James excitedly asks, “Is it just my face that makes you flustered? What about my big muscles?” He flexes his biceps in case Regulus hasn’t noticed them. “Or my big brain? I did receive ten O.W.L.s, you know.”

“I am not feeding your ego, Potter!” Regulus glowers. “And anyways, my brother received twelve, so…” He trails off with a pointed glare.

“Please don’t remind me, ugh,” James whines pitifully. “In my defense, that Divination exam was a load of crock, and that proctor had an obvious hard on for Sirius.”

The youngest Black raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying Sirius didn’t earn his grade fair and square, Potter? 

“Question… who do you think told me about the proctor being obsessed with him?” James snorts. “And can you go back to calling me James, please? It’s much nicer.”

Regulus sucks in a breath, his cheeks puffing out; with Sirius, this means the shouting is about to start, but with his younger sibling, it’s evidently not the same.

Bowing exaggeratedly, he croons, “Your wish is my command, James.”

There’s something about the way Regulus says his name that makes James’s brain malfunction. It’s the only explanation for why he unthinkingly whispers, “I wish you’d kiss me.”

This time, Regulus’s response is immediate. 

“I already did,” he says smugly. “Or did you forget already?”

“Refresh my memory?” James stretches his back with an exaggeratedly pained expression. “Getting old is so hard, Baby Black, you youngins don't understand.”

There’s a sassy scoff, of course there is. But Regulus still presses a lingering kiss to each of James's cheeks, his forehead, and the tip of his nose. “If you forget that, James, then I confess, I will consider it a personal slight.”

“I will remember that well into the afterlife,” James vows, placing a hand over his heart. “Might I get another wish, oh benevolent one?” The Slytherin inclines his head. “I wish I could kiss you.”

Expression smoothing out, Regulus asks, “Why? Why would you wish for that?”

“Well, that’s a silly question, innit?” James responds with a wink, leading the youngest Black to scowl, oops. “Because, Regulus, I think you’re pretty great too. And all of you, not just your face, is stupidly attractive.”

“You don’t know me!” Regulus argues. “You know my brother, and trust me, Sirius and I are not the same.” And then in the snootiest voice James has ever heard in his entire life, “Maybe I have ugly feet, you have no idea.”

The words cause a startled laugh to bubble out of him. “I know enough to know I’m interested in getting to know you, even those secret ugly bits I don’t believe you have. And of course, you’re not the same as Sirius, but that’s not bad.”

“Yeah?” There's an undeniable challenge in Regulus’s voice. “What exactly do you know about me, Potter?”

“James,” the Gryffindor automatically corrects. Then, without giving Regulus a chance to respond, he continues, “Starting with the obvious, what everyone knows. You’re exceptionally beautiful, perhaps the prettiest Bla-”

A hand is smacked over his mouth. “Do not finish that sentence.” Panicked eyes fly towards the door. “The walls have ears, such sacrilege will not be easily dismissed.”

“That brings me to my next point,” James says, prying Regulus’s hand off, “which is that you’re exceptionally superstitious.”

“Am I, now?”

“Uh huh. You have the same breakfast before a match, two slices of toast, one with an egg on it, one without. The egg-toast gets eaten first, and then you drink your coffee, then eat the other toast, before finishing it off with a second cup of coffee. During the coin toss, you always stand in the exact same place, just behind your Captain’s left side, even shouldering a newbie player out of the way last year -”

Regulus bares his teeth. “I earned that spot, Bletchley had no right to think he could usurp me.”

“And on that note, you believe Captain Fawley is equivalent to what the Muggles would call a ‘god’ -”

“I know what a god is, Potter, I’m not ignorant.”

That brings a smile to James’s face. “Reading is one of your favorite activities besides Quidditch and flying in general, which must have made the whole eyesight thing even more frustrating. You’ll read about any topic, because acquiring knowledge is important to you, even if it’s not currently relevant to your life.”

Sirius doesn’t read constantly like his brother, but he utterly devours books when he’s in a particular mood (usually for prank research, but sometimes, there’s no clear reason as to why he spent a month reading about Ancient Magical Civilizations). It’s actually kind of frightening how he’ll close himself behind his bed curtains and read tome after tome after tome without taking a break. James used to assume he was skim reading, that there was no way he was absorbing every word. But their years of pranking proved that wasn’t the case, not when they’d be in need of a spell to do something super specific, and Sirius would suddenly perk up, ‘Oh, I read about that once!’ and then dash off to the library to find the most obscure text they’d ever seen.

“Pardon me for wanting to be educated,” Regulus sniffs, glancing away.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” James shrugs, ignoring Regulus’s argument that he’s not embarrassed, thank you very much. “But you also like reading for fun. Every morning, you get your delivery of the Daily Prophet, and after scanning the front page, you go right for the Quidditch section. You’ll read novels of all kinds, even romance ones, and your favorite subject in school is Charms, followed closely by Astronomy, which I’m starting to think is a Black requirement -”

“Cousin Bellatrix detests Astronomy!” Regulus ardently interjects, and then immediately looks horrified at his outburst. “Don’t tell anyone that, I don’t even know for sure, it’s just my observation, impossible to say if it’s an accurate assumption -”

James mimes zipping his lips. “I won’t tell a soul. But that leads me to another point, which is that you care deeply about your family, every single one of them, even if they can’t stand each other.”

“In spite of what Sirius has undoubtedly told you, my family cares for each other,” James can’t help but raise an eyebrow like, ‘are you sure?’ “Fine, at least when it comes to my cousins and my brother, Andromeda included.” Ah yes, the cousin disowned for marrying a Muggleborn. “They just aren’t adept at showing it, not in the ‘traditional’ way of you Gryffindors.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” James says, opting not to point out how telling your vain cousin that he had split ends probably didn’t seem all that caring to Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs either. “And on the topic of caring, you are exceptionally kind -”

Regulus recoils like he’s been slapped. “How dare you, I am not kind -”

“You are,” James passionately cuts him right back off. “I saw you last year, you know -”

“I saw you, too -”

Raising his voice, the Gryffindor continues, “In the Transfiguration Courtyard, a pack of Slytherin and Ravenclaw first-years were ragging on some Gryffindor kid in their flying class, absolutely going in on this poor bloke. Then, out of nowhere, here comes a wrathful Regulus Black to verbally eviscerate the little gits, sticking up for a random kid who wasn’t even there.”

Ironically, after that moment, James began paying more attention to his best mate’s little brother… and then subsequently fell head-over-heels for someone he’d hardly spoken a word to before today. Sigh. He was a hopeless mess.

“Maybe I felt like picking a fight that day?” the younger teen hotly retorts. “Those despicable, vile urchins were the perfect candidates, well-deserving of my ire. Thinking they were better than some kid because he didn't know a broom could fly two months prior? I had the misfortune of passing by their lesson, and let me tell you, Potter. They were all dreadful, absolutely pitiful to watch, they had no right to be bragging about anything, let alone tearing down some kid who was simply trying to learn.”

Aww, James didn't even care that Regulus made three of the five cry, it had been such an enthralling, captivating scene to witness; even his speech now doesn’t do justice to the magnificent fury he released that day. And the reasoning behind it? Heroic, and so fucking attractive.

James snaps his fingers. “Hey, random, but do you by chance happen to know a bloke named Wylan Honeywood?”

“Erm, who?" Regulus coughs, looking away. “I mean, perhaps, sounds sort of familiar…”

The most gullible person in the world could tell that was a lie, sheesh.

“He’s a second-year Gryffindor Muggleborn who just made the Quidditch team,” James patiently explains, like Regulus doesn’t already know this. “The bloke those hellions were talking about.”

“Not familiar, sorry.”

Uh huh.

“Is that so? You see, funnily enough, Wylan went right up to Sirius in the locker room after our first practice, chipper as could be, chattering on about how it was such an honor to play with ‘the Regulus Black’s older brother’. ‘Course, Sirius was confused, asked the runt -”

“Don’t call him that!” Regulus furiously snaps. “He’s bigger than you and my brother were at twelve, so lay off him, would you?”

Deciding it’s in his best interest to forgo pointing out how Regulus seems quite familiar with a kid he claimed to not know, James raises his hand in surrender. “Sirius asked Wylan how he knew his brother, and that’s when we learned all about how out of the blue last year, Slytherin Seeker, Regulus Black, cornered him in the library and offered to be his flying tutor. When Wylan asked if he was offering classes to all the first-years, he was told, ‘only the ones with potential’. Needless to say, he was surprised to be your only pupil, though I,” James gestures to himself, “was not shocked to hear that.”

“You’re mistaking pettiness for kindness,” Regulus huffs, still not meeting his gaze.

Gryffindors always get the rap for being stubborn, but blimey, Slytherins were ten times worse. “How were you being petty when after Wylan passed your, and I quote, ‘crazy difficult flying exam, with both a practical and written portion’, you then agreed to teach him the ins and outs of Quidditch?”

After Wylan finished telling his tale, Sirius fled to the showers without a word. Over the sound of his mate’s stifled sobs, James had to awkwardly explain to the kid, who spoke reverently about Regulus, like he was Merlin himself, that the brothers weren’t on the best of terms after the summer, so hearing about his sibling was a bit of a sore spot for Sirius. Wylan’s big brown eyes had teared up at the news, ‘But Sirius is Reg’s hero, what do you mean they aren’t talking anymore?’

James didn’t say anything, but he thinks his face might have said it for him, ‘Mmm, hero? You sure about that?’ because the pipsqueak had gone all indignant, bit reminiscent of Regulus himself actually. 'Reg told me about how his big brother taught him how to ride a broom, how he’d been scared out of his wits at first, but Sirius was a good, patient teacher, how Sirius would research stuff on his own, so he could help Reg learn things that piqued his interest, like Quidditch, or potions, or chess, how he taught Reg how to defend himself, both with magic and without. Perhaps Reg didn’t outright call his brother his hero, Captain Potter, but anyone possessing a modicum of intelligence could read between the lines.’ Then, the sassy shit flicked his hair over his shoulder and stormed out of the locker room.

Ten minutes later, Sirius found James standing in the exact same spot, still gaping at the locker room door. Stunned by the sheer sass emanating from the kid, a total reversal of his previous sunshiney-attitude, James had also struggled to cope with jealousy. Why did this random twerp get to spend so much time with Regulus Black? And not only time, but Regulus was out there telling him stories about his life? It took James years to collect half as many stories from Sirius about his childhood and growing up with his younger sibling. Who was this kid?

And on that note, how did Regulus spending one day a week with a Muggleborn first-year for most of the school year not make the gossip rounds? Absolutely needing to know the answer, James sucked up his pride and asked the next time he saw his new Chaser. Wylan said that Lily Evans, a fellow Muggleborn, taught him about politics in the magical world worked during his first few weeks at Hogwarts, so he wouldn’t be caught off guard like she had been. Recognizing that Regulus, a Pureblood Slytherin from the Black family, would be in an uncomfortable position if anyone saw them together, Wylan insisted on meeting up at an ‘ungodly hour’.

“That must have been murder on your eyesight,” James murmurs, his throat oddly tight at the thought of the sacrifices Regulus made to help some bullied Muggleborn kid he hadn’t even known at the time. 

“Worth it, he’s a good kid,” Regulus shrugs, looking wholly unbothered. “The money I’d pay to see the faces of those whelps when Wylie takes to the sky for his first game…” Without warning, he smacks James on the shoulder. “You better be a worthy Captain to him, James Potter! He’s a natural on broom, actually, just needed a confidence boost, but he has a tendency to get stuck in his head, because for some fucking reason, people are automatically dismissive of him without even knowing him. He does take constructive criticism well, but you’ll need to offer plenty of praise along with that. Just ensure it’s not done falsely. Wylie’s exceptionally intelligent, so he’ll spot that out in a heartbeat.”

“Noted,” James says, though he’s not sure if Regulus even realizes he spoke, well into his spiel as he is.

“Make sure your teammates are treating him respectfully, I know he’s the youngest on your roster. Speaking from experience, having been the youngest player on Slytherin for two years in a row, the older players like to get mouthy just because they’ve been alive a bit longer. Though to clarify, if I hear that someone is speaking down to Wylan for any reason whatsoever... well, I hope your Reserve roster has some depth.”

Placing a hand over his heart, James says, “I promise to threaten my players, so you don’t have to.”

“Excellent leadership, Captain Potter.” Regulus’s eyes widen ever-so-slightly when James reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ears. "I suppose I'll trust you with my protégé."

“He's lucky to have you, Reg, you're a good role model. And I swear I'll look out for him, but I know I could never replace you," James praises with full sincerity. "And once Sirius is done throwing his epic temper tantrum, you'll make a superb Captain. It'll be an honor to play against you."

The words have the opposite effect of what he intended; Regulus’s face falls. “Oh fuck, he’s going to be devastated when he learns I’m not on the team anymore. He was thrilled over the idea of us getting to play against each other in a real match.” He grabs James’s arm. “Please, let me be the one to tell him, yeah? I should have done it already, but I just… that meant admitting it was real. And it is real. I do not believe in living with false hope, and I won't let Wylan fall into such traps either."

“I won't tell him,” James murmurs, placing his hand over Regulus’s. “But remind me again how you aren’t kind? Because from my perspective -”

Regulus raises an eyebrow. “You mean your perspective, as someone who’s been stalking me?”

“Uhh, no, not stalking!” James rushes to explain, because fuck, he could totally see how Regulus came up with that conclusion. “Just observations, from afar, when we both happened to be in the same place, at the same time… coincidentally!”

“I’m teasing, I would have noticed if you were stalking me,” Regulus cackles. “Though, you should be careful how you speak, Potter, or I’m going to think you have a crush on me.”

“I DO!” James blurts out… it’s the truth, and he meant to say it, but uh… perhaps with a little less enthusiasm, and a lot more suaveness. “I do have a crush on you, Regulus, I have for a while, and I know Sirius will skin me alive for it, probably feed my entrails to the ducks in the pond behind Potter Manor, but oddly enough, such a gory death would be worth it if I got to spend time with you -”

“Can you keep a secret, Potter?” Regulus interrupts, capturing James’s interest and putting a stopper on his humiliating word vomit, thank Merlin.

“Of course, you have my word as a Gryff -”

“From Sirius.”

Ah, fuck.

“Since we’re being honest with each other, I’m going to continue that pattern and say… it depends on the secret.”

Rolling his eyes, Regulus warns, “I will end you if this gets back to him.”

Joy.

“Alright, lay it on me.”

“For someone as dramatic, chaotic, and annoying as my brother, who’s riddled with trust issues and suspicious of his own shadow… Sirius’s judgment, when it comes to people, is unparalleled.”

That’s the secret?

Oh right, Blacks don’t discuss feelings, and their compliments go something like, “Your hair isn’t as greasy as usual, did you change your washing routine?”

But what does that even mean, Sirius’s judgment in people is unparalleled?

“Okay?”

With an annoyed huff, Regulus steps closer to him. “What I’m saying, James Potter, is that there must be more to you than the Gryffindor Golden Boy, prankster-extraordinaire, star athlete, and pompous, arrogant-toerag that everyone else sees. And, personally, I’ve always been intrigued by a good mystery.”

James’s first traditional-Black compliment, oh, he’s positively giddy inside! 

“I see you’ve spent time with Lily recently,” he jokes… thankfully, no one else calls him an ‘arrogant-toerag’, so he knows he’s right.

“Indeed!” There's a noticeable brightening of Regulus’s smile. “She’s good company actually, I was pleasantly surprised. I hope to speak with her again soon.”

An inexplicable wave of jealousy washes over James. “Going to ask for her hand in marriage instead?”

“Yeah, no,” Regulus scoffs. “The whole ‘being a girl’ thing is rather off-putting, so if I had to pick, I think I’d rather have yours.”

He’s gay?!

Oh, James hoped and hoped, of course, but until now, he never knew either way.

“It’s yours,” James says in a rush, before Regulus can take it back… which he probably would, considering how the pinkish-tint to his cheeks is now a fiery red that’s crawling down his neck, and spreading upwards to his ears. “If you want it, it’s yours.”

“Technically, I am already engaged. And polygamy isn’t legal.”

“You’re not engaged, you haven't signed the contract yet.” For some strange reason, Remus knows a surprising amount about arranged marriages and the laws surrounding them. “I hope you don’t, Regulus, honestly. Cuz, I’m mostly joking about having my hand in marriage right now, I recognize that’s probably crazy and impulsive, and we should spend years together before we take such steps. But I’d really like the chance to know you, as friends first, if you’d prefer to start slow -”

Snaking a hand around James’s waist, Regulus whispers in an unexpectedly sultry voice, “What if I don’t want to start slow? Then what do I get? You’ve already said marriage is off the table.”

“Boyfriends?” James's voice comes out in a mortifying squeak.

“And my brother?”

“A-already has a boyfriend.”

Regulus playfully nips his earlobe, sending shivers down James’s spine. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I hope he'll come around to the idea, but I don’t want to keep it a secret from him,” the Gryffindor responds nervously. “The school is one thing -”

“Afraid to be seen with me, is that it?” Recoiling back, something vicious flashes in Regulus’s eyes. “Going to keep me tucked away like a shameful secret, only to be taken out when no one is looking?”

James’s shoulders shake from the force of his incredulous laughter. “Y-you think I’ve got an inflated head now, Reg? Merlin, I would probably float away if I got the chance to have everyone see me on the arm of the Regulus Black! I thought you would want to keep it a secret.”

“Eh,” Regulus waves a hand dismissively. “I think I’m starting to realize after fifteen years, nothing I do will please my parents, Mother especially. Might as well do what I want, you know?”

“And me? That’s what you want?” James asks, needing to be sure. “Because I want you, in case that wasn’t clear.”

“You really are obsessed with me,” Regulus mutters, sounding like he’s truly starting to understand the depth of James’s interest.

“Obsessed is a pretty strong… yeah, alright, maybe a bit.”

“Splendid, I would loathe to think this is one-sided.” That's a confession of interest, right?! Because he didn’t actually answer James’s question. “Back to the matter at hand.” Fuck, that's right, he’s supposed to be piercing Regulus’s ears, Sirius and Remus are going to be back any minute. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet? You’re being a very neglectful boyfriend, James Potter.”

Okay, that was definitely a confession of interest!

James Potter is a lot of things, but neglectful, he is not.