Chapter 16: Confessions
Notes:
Hello hello!!
This chapter has more angst that the previous ones, but it also has some fun, lighter moments.
TWs for this chapter:
Internalised homophobia
Mentions of blood and murder (brief)
Mentions of past child abuse
Smoking
Mild violence magical and physical (someone gets punched)
Bullying and slur calling (the M slur for muggle borns, towards two random students we don't know, but it happens)
I think that's it for this chapter! I hope you enjoy :D
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The next two days are painful. James cannot describe them any other way. He wakes up aching, and goes to bed yearning, and the space in between is full of stolen glances and impatience and longing so fierce James feels lit up from the inside with it.
Every time his eyes catch Regulus' across the hall at mealtimes or in a random corridor between lessons, James has to physically retrain himself from walking up to him and saying something, doing something, James doesn't even know at this point. It's not just the kissing. It's Regulus. All of him. His scowls, and his silence, and the bite in his voice when he calls James stupid.
James wants to talk to him about muggle things, or about Quidditch, or about music. He wants to ask again for the name of his favourite song because it's in French so obviously he didn't retain it, but he wants to listen to it until he can repeat every word.
If James was obsessed with Regulus before the kiss, now that he knows what it feels like he's absolutely one hundred percent gone on the kid. It's eating him alive, how much he's pining.
James sends Regulus a note on Monday morning with his owl and watches Regulus read it. There's no outward change, but James notices that Regulus folds the note and pockets it like it's something he wants to keep. James chooses to take that as a good sign.
The note is simple:
Can't come to the roof until I've spoken to him. Haven't had a chance yet.
J
James hopes it's enough, because he really, really can't go to the roof until he has worked up the courage to talk to Sirius. He's considered going back on his word and seeking Regulus out even though he hasn't told Sirius yet, but that's a slippery slope. James knows that's the despair talking, because he's better than this. He can't do that to his best friend.
He won't, no matter how much he's yearning.
James knows he won't be able to stop himself from kissing Regulus again if they find each other alone, so it simply can't happen. He has to stay away because James will endure the aching longing of the wait, but he will not betray Sirius like that.
It's hard. There are very few moments when him and Sirius are truly alone, and James—much to his shame—chickens out. He's not even sure what it is he's afraid of, but he's terrified. Perhaps because Sirius has never forgiven and will never forgive Regulus for choosing to stay in that house. Perhaps because Sirius hates himself for not fighting harder. For leaving his brother even though it was Regulus' choice. Or maybe, and this is also a possibility, Sirius will get protective and want to smack James for touching his baby brother. Perhaps all the above. And James is confident in his relationship with Sirius, but Regulus is Regulus. Sirius has deep, complex feelings James doesn't fully understand about his brother.
Still. James will tell him. He has to, because the alternative is that he keeps it secret, and Sirius finds out later, and that can't happen because James wouldn't survive it if Sirius broke up with him. In a platonic way. Doesn't matter, what matters is that James won't risk damaging his bond with his brother, so he has to be brave and talk to him now. Before it's too late.
The opportunity to tell him comes by way of a Quidditch practice on Tuesday. James is cutting it close, what with the full moon the next day and everything. But he's… well. He's scared, because this is so important and there are so many ways in which it can go wrong. James doesn't want it to go wrong. He isn't sure he'll be able to cope if it does.
Sirius tackles him at the end of their practice Tuesday evening, and the entire team leaves them there fake-brawling on the grass as they do because they're boys and they're idiots and they love each other beyond comprehension. By the time they make it to the showers, everyone else is long gone. James knows it's now or never, but he also feels weird telling Sirius he's falling head over heels for his little brother in the Quidditch changing room.
So, they shower in silence, and James finishes before Sirius does because the man spends an exorbitant amount of time fixing his hair. And then James is dressed and waiting, and Sirius is yanking his clothes on too.
"Prongs," Sirius says as they walk out of the changing rooms together. "Can I help?"
James frowns, looks at his friend. "With what?"
"Whatever's been on your mind for the past two days," Sirius says simply. "Just… you know. I'm here."
James sighs heavily. They're in the middle of a main corridor and it's not the place. Anyone could walk past any moment. But if he doesn't do it now, he won't do it at all, and James just cannot imagine losing Regulus before he's even had him. Not that Regulus is something to be had, it's just that well. James would like to see if they can be a thing. Together. Him and Regulus. A relationship, James thinks. That's what he wants, if Regulus wants it too.
"I need to tell you something, but I've been freaking out about telling you," James blurts out. "I don't know how to tell you, Pads."
Sirius frowns, looks away. Looks back at James. "Astronomy Tower?"
James nods. He's in this now, and he has to see it through. The Astronomy Tower is the place they go when they need to have serious one-to-ones. Doesn't happen often. Last two to use it were Sirius and Remus a whole year ago when they finally sorted it all out after the prank. But it's fitting, James thinks.
They climb through the castle in comfortable silence, because Sirius has no idea what James is going to tell him, and he has blind trust in his best friend. James hopes Sirius can understand him. He has to, right?
Godric help him. Sirius might push him off the tower.
They get there before James is ready, but he doesn't think he's ever going to be ready so it's just as well. He has to do this no matter what. They settle down at the edge of the tower, legs dangling over the abyss. Sirius lights a cigarette and waits.
The forest spreads over the land. Beyond it, James can see the shadows of hills that go into Scotland. Such a big world. And they're just two boys in a school that feels like an entire universe. But really? They're small people in a big planet, aren't they? James looks up at the stars. He knows which one Sirius is. And he wonders where Regulus sits. If he can see him. He's going to ask him next time.
For there to be a next time, he has to start talking.
James doesn't know where to start. How does he explain to Sirius what's happened? He can't just say it. Can he?
James clears his throat. You're a Gryffindor, James Potter. Act like one, he tells himself.
"Do you remember the day we told each other what our boggarts would be?" James asks. It's as good an opening as any, and James hopes to remind Sirius of who they are to each other. He hopes that their bond is stronger than anything.
"Yeah. Of course I do. Is yours still…?" Sirius trails off, not able to say it.
He's never managed to voice it, and James has only uttered the words out loud the once. The day he told Sirius James' boggart was James himself, covered in blood, standing over Walburga Black's corpse. He's afraid of the darkness he felt the day Sirius ran away. Of what it could mean for him if he let it in. Sirius understood it perfectly, because his boggart was him in a green tie and a mean smirk. Standing proud as the heir to a house that hates and hurts and breaks.
"Yeah. Yeah, that's not why I'm bringing it up. I just… we swore we'd never keep important things from each other," James says. His heart is pounding, and his chest is tight. "Not even when they're... when we know the other might not be too happy about it or whatever."
Sirius looks alarmed now. Downright worried. It melts James' heart. "Did you hurt somebody?" Sirius whispers. Then, without an ounce of hesitation, "It's okay, Prongs. I'll fix it. Remus will help. We'll destroy the evidence. Nobody—"
James loves him. Deeply. Profoundly. He loves him in a way he doesn't fully understand because it's bigger than him. Bigger than them. He hopes that's enough. Furiously, fervently, James hopes that Sirius loves him the way he does. That he'll understand.
"I haven't hurt anyone. But I have a crush," James says, cutting Sirius off. "As in, I fancy someone. A lot."
Sirius' confusion pulls his eyebrows close together. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. "Why did you start with boggarts to tell me about your crush?"
"Because I didn't know how else to start," James says, wringing his fingers together. His palms are sweaty. "And that was one of the hardest things I've ever told you, and you didn't even blink. I don't know, Pads. I'm freaking out."
"Why?" Sirius asks, taking a drag from his cigarette. "You've had crushes before, James."
"It's a boy," James blurts.
He watches Sirius process this. The thing is, James knows Sirius doesn't have a problem with this part. But he hadn't anticipated that it might trigger something in Sirius. Because James can immediately tell from the expressions crossing his face that Sirius is doing some mental gymnastics that are taking him in the wrong direction.
Sirius' shoulders tense, and he looks like he's bracing to be punched directly in the gut. James is confused, and honestly a little curious to hear what ridiculous story Sirius has come up with because he knows whatever it is, it's not the truth.
And James is rewarded when Sirius finally, finally, says through gritted teeth, "Remus?"
Godric Gryffindor help his best friend because his last braincell is echoing in his head.
James wants to hit him. Smack some sense into him. Honestly. "Godric, no," James says, rolling his eyes. "Not Remus."
"Oh. Thank Merlin," Sirius says with so much feeling James can only stare at him open mouthed. This guy is absolutely clueless.
He's half tempted to redirect the conversation and force Sirius to explore why he panicked so hard at the idea that James' crush might have been on Remus, but James can't do that to himself. He can't do that to Regulus. Regulus is waiting for him—or James hopes he is—and he won't take Regulus' patience for granted.
Sirius composes himself, then nods at James. "Well, were you worried I wasn't going to be okay with it because it's a dude? I'm not sure what I've done to make you think that, but do tell me so I can rectify it immediately."
James takes a fortifying breath. "I knew you were going to be fine with him being a boy." He hesitates. Has to swallow. "You might not be too happy about this one boy in particular though."
"It's not Remus, right?" Sirius confirms, slightly anxious again.
James rolls his eyes again. He can't help it. "Merlin, Sirius, no. It's not Remus."
"Then I do not understand why I wouldn't be okay with it. I don't care who you date, James. If they make you happy, I like them. If they hurt you, I'll kill them. Simple," Sirius says.
"Slytherin," James whispers.
This, admittedly, seems to take Sirius by surprise. He blinks. Processes. Adjusts. "Alright. Not ideal, obviously, but look at Marls. Dorcas is actually quite cool, and she's a Slytherin. If we can make an exception, we can make two."
"He's… his family history and stuff is a little complicated," James says.
Sirius shrugs. "Can't judge that part. Not me."
"He plays Quidditch, too," James adds, hoping Sirius will put it together so James doesn't have to actually say it.
"Is he good at school? Don't tell me he's dumb. You're better than dumb."
"Yes," James confirms. "Very good at school. Very smart, actually. Makes it look a little effortless, if I'm honest."
Sirius nods, pleased by this information. "And I'm guessing he's handsome, right? You've got standards, James," Sirius says, teasing. "Blond? Brunet? A ginger, maybe? So long as he's good looking."
"Brunet. Yes, he's very handsome. Too handsome. He's beautiful," James says, closing his eyes. This is it. He's got to say it.
James takes a fortifying breath. "Sirius," James whispers, heart beating so hard he can hear the blood pumping in his ears. "I love you. You know that, right? You are so important to me, and I—"
And now Sirius full on panics. He yelps, cutting James off. Sirius springs up, landing on his feet and taking a few steps away. He puts his hands in his hair, paces around the tower. He's muttering something under his breath that James can't catch.
James' mouth hangs open, wondering what fresh hell of new stupidity is accosting his friend. When Sirius comes back to James, he looks pale but determined.
"Prongs," Sirius says carefully, slowly. "I would literally fucking die for you, but I'm not… I don't… just. You're like a brother to me."
James is absolutely speechless. His best friend is one idiotic dumbass. Absolute lunatic. Did he miss the part where James said he was a Slytherin? What even is he on about? Godric Gryffindor on a broom. His best friend needs some help.
James is so shocked by the mental leaps and bounds Sirius has just made that he can't do anything other than blurt, "Wrong Black brother, mate."
Sirius frowns, shakes his head like he's trying to get water out of his ears. "What?"
And well. It's done now, isn't it. James can't backpedal, and he doesn't want to anyway. So he goes full speed ahead. "I have a gigantic crush on your brother. A boy who is a Slytherin. Not on you, you fucking idiot."
To Sirius credit, he doesn't immediately punch James or push him off the Astronomy Tower. He stands there, frozen and open mouthed, staring at his best friend for what feels like an eternity. The wind carries clouds that cast shadows on the circle of the Tower landing when they glide past the moon. Almost full. James has the nonsensical thought that they're watching this unfold. Curious. The moon and the stars, judging him for wanting to sleep with his best friend's brother.
James gets up so he's on equal footing, and as soon as James is facing Sirius, he seems to recover enough to say, "You… what?" Sirius blinks. Blinks again.
And his eyes go very wide as he steps closer. "James Fleamont Potter, what did you just say to me?" Sirius is shouting, which isn't great, but he still hasn't punched James so he's taking the win. "Did you… My little brother? I heard it wrong. Say it again. I dare you!"
James does. He's a Gryffindor, isn't he? Brave to the point of recklessness. "Regulus. I'm crushing on Regulus. Hard. I tried to stop it, not happening. I'm sorry, Pads. But I swore I'd never lie to you. So, here we are."
Sirius looks a mixture of disgusted and hurt. His hands twitch, and he takes a step back. "You're… why? How? When? What the fuck, Prongs?"
Sirius is in shock, that much is obvious. But not enough that he doesn't add, "Also, I'm a lot hotter than Reggie, thank you very much."
James just shrugs, helpless. "I obviously didn't mean for it to happen, Pads. It's just I ran into him the one time, and he was… well. He's gorgeous." Sirius scrunches his face, horrified by the idea that anyone could find his little brother attractive. James rolls his eyes. "Anyway. I didn't want to keep it from you."
"I need a moment," Sirius says. He walks to the opposite wall, presses his forehead against it. James waits. Sirius lets out a string of curses so colourful Remus would be proud.
After a long minute or two, Sirius turns. Sighs dramatically, runs a hand through his hair. "Honestly, James. You've got truly terrible taste in men," he says. "But I'll help in any way I can."
This James wasn't expecting. He was prepared for a lot more hysterics from Sirius. Some shouting. A punch, even. "You… will?"
"Of course I will," Sirius says confidently. "I'm not going to let you suffer alone. You'll get over it, I promise."
"I don't think I want to?"
Sirius looks at him somewhat indulgent which is alarming. Something is not right, but James isn't sure what. Then, Sirius says gently, "James, you have to. For your own good. You cannot have a crush on someone who's never going to like you back."
James is offended now. Like. "Why wouldn't he like me back?"
And Sirius looks at him with so much love it almost breaks James' heart. "Because he's a blood supremacist and traditionalist bigot, James. He'll marry some pure blooded girl that Walburga will pick for him and have little babies to carry on the name of the Most Noble, Ancient and Fucked up House of Black."
Oh. Oh, shit. Sirius thinks… well. This one James does understand, because Sirius hasn't spoken a word that wasn't threatening to his brother in almost two years, so how is he to know? Of course the Regulus in Sirius' mind would never. Not with a boy. James suspects Sirius is kind of projecting a little bit. On Regulus. This is not going to go down well.
James thought he'd done the worst of it, but he was wrong. The hardest part comes now. But also, perhaps it gives Sirius hope, right? The same way it gives James hope. Regulus isn't what they thought he was.
"Sirius," James says carefully. "I'm not hoping for it. I know that Regulus likes me back."
"Godric have mercy," Sirius says looking at James like he's lost his mind. "James, I know you're an eternal optimist but I'm not going to let you do that to yourself. The Nile is not just a river in Egypt. Please."
James has to chortle, because that was funny. But also. He can feel his gut crawling up his throat as he says, "We kissed. Regulus and I kissed. I guarantee you that he was into it. Extremely into it."
Sirius' expression changes swiftly. Pity and determination are wiped out by shock. Horror. Disbelief. "Have a day off. Reggie did not kiss you." Sirius sounds winded, like he just ran up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. He fights for his breath, runs a hand through his hair again. Then, "Did he?"
James can't help the smile. He doesn't want to, because this is a sensitive topic, and a delicate discussion and a goofy smile honestly has no place here. But it doesn't matter. He smiles anyway. It's like the muscles on his face are pulled by the memory, completely independent to his intentions. "If you want to get technical, I kissed him, and he kissed back. But yes. It happened. We kissed."
Sirius does punch him, then. His fist just flies. No warning. Sirius is fucking fast, always has been, and James doesn't see it coming until the fist is at his face. It collides with James' jaw, and James grunts, but he takes it. It's fair, he thinks. It's what an older brother would do. Besides, Sirius would do a lot worse if he knew just how filthy James' thoughts about Regulus get sometimes. The things he wanted to do—would have done—if his brain hadn't caught up with his body in the middle of it all. This is very mild, and James won't complain about it.
"Shit," Sirius says, shaking out his hand and grimacing. "Sorry, Prongs. I just… you kissed my little brother!"
"He kissed me back," James repeats, massaging his jaw to ease the ache. "Are you going to punch me again?"
"I'm still thinking about it," Sirius says. "My little brother! Are you for real? Weren't there any other boys in the entire school?"
James looks at his best friend with big, helpless eyes. He's right, but he's also wrong. This wasn't something James chose. It's something that happened to him. He looked at Regulus in the Great Hall on the first day and he became curious. He saw him in a towel in the Quidditch changing rooms and he was gone.
Poof.
Ciao.
Adios.
Here lies James Potter, dead of spontaneous combustion caused by Regulus Black's hotness.
"I couldn't help it, Sirius," James says. Something in his voice must get through to him, because Sirius' fist relaxes a little and he shakes his head, looking lost. So lost.
"But he's… Reggie." Sirius staggers back a few steps, like this concept is rocking his world so hard he can't keep his balance. "Reggie."
James waits. Gives him time. This is a lot, he knows. And Sirius isn't the most adept at processing big emotions. So James stands there in the Astronomy Tower and gives Sirius time to think this through.
His jaw aches, and he feels a little drained, but all in all this could have gone worse. It could have gone better, but also worse.
It takes several minutes of silence before Sirius walks to the railing and looks up at the sky. James knows what this is, because he caught him once in Potter Manor sneaking out to the garden in the middle of the night. Sirius knows where Regulus is, or would be, even when the sky is overcast.
James comes to stand next to his best friend. He looks up, too. Speaks into the wind. "If I could choose, if I had any control over it, it wouldn't be Regulus because I know. I know, Sirius. But I can't help it. I tried. Believe me, I tried," James says, voice thick with fear and hope. "I stayed away, and it was driving me mad. And then I started to get to know him, and it was worse because he's… he's not what I thought he was."
"How long?" Sirius asks. It's dry, raspy.
"We've been talking for about three weeks, a little more maybe," James says. "The kiss only happened on Saturday night. It was… uh… Regulus threw a bit of a fit because he thought I was seeing Lily for some reason. And it just happened. But I told him it would not happen again until I'd had a chance to tell you. I haven't seen him since."
Sirius puts his hands on the railing, gripping it hard. James can read the tension on his shoulders and hates that he put it there.
"He threw a fit?"
"Yeah," James says, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. "He was jealous."
"Fucking hell, Prongs," Sirius says, grimacing. "I don't know what to say. I don't know how I feel about this."
James nods even though Sirius isn't looking at him. "I thought… well. When I first started talking to him, I told myself I was trying to find out if maybe he…" He trails off. He doesn't know if he can say it. Because what if his hope hurts Sirius?
"He what?"
"If he ran, too," James whispers.
Sirius does look at him now, eyes wide and… hopeful. And James wants to cry. Because he was right. Remus was right. Deep down, Sirius wants Regulus back, if Regulus isn't the blood supremacist and traditionalist bigot that Sirius thinks he is. He'll deny it all day long, but Sirius misses his little brother. He hates him, too. But that's okay, James thinks. Because hate and love are so close to each other they can tip over with the smallest of pushes.
"Just because he's experimenting doesn't mean he's not… you know," Sirius says, side-eyeing James.
"He's not experimenting," James says immediately. Once again, mildly offended. "And before you say anything else, Regulus knows a shit ton about muggles, and thinks they're interesting, and has not once said anything that made me think he agrees with Walburga on anything. So."
"Look at you, already defending him," Sirius drawls. He's scowling now, which James hates. Sirius isn't a scowl-y person. That's Regulus. "Maybe I will punch you again."
"Pads, I love you. You're my best friend. My brother," James says. "But I like Regulus too much to give it up before it's even started. So, if you need to beat the shit out of me, do it. Because I won't stop."
"And if I ask you to?"
"You won't," James says firmly.
They lock eyes. Silvery grey and hazel. There are a million things in that look. Sirius is afraid to hope. He wants to. He's jealous. Sirius doesn't like sharing, and James is the one person who has always been just his. But Sirius loves James too much to actively stand in the way of his happiness. He'll be a dick about it. But he won't stop him. And James… James would do anything for Sirius precisely because he knows Sirius wouldn't ask this of him.
Trust. Profound, unbreakable trust.
"I won't," Sirius says softly. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it. I don't fucking like it, Prongs. You and my brother don't make sense. It won't work. And when he hurts you, then what?"
"You'll drag me to the Three Broomsticks and we'll get drunk together," James says with a shrug, but he's smiling. "And you know I won't hurt him."
"I don't care," Sirius huffs, looking away.
James only smiles wider. "Okay."
Sirius sits down, lights a cigarette. James sits with him. He feels a million tonnes lighter. The night brighter, more beautiful. He's free now to go seek Regulus out. James cannot wait.
"What is it like?" Sirius asks quietly. "Kissing a boy."
James' breath hitches, because is this Sirius daring? Is he finally ready to admit to himself that he wants Remus? James thinks he'll pass out from sheer joy if they walk out of this Tower and Sirius goes to find Moony.
"It's brilliant," James says. "A kiss is a kiss, Pads. Doesn't matter if it's a girl or a boy. What matters is that you like the person."
"Reggie has no stubble," Sirius says, and it catches James by surprise until he remembers out of the four of them, Remus has the most facial hair. He shaves every other day.
James doesn't know what the right thing to say is. He doesn't want to put Sirius off the idea of kissing a boy, but he's also not going to lie. Regulus has no stubble. Remus has stubble. Should it matter? James doesn't think so. Also, he can't forget he would have happily kissed Remus in like fourth year, but he thinks it's safer to not tell Sirius this.
He can still push him off the tower.
"I wouldn't mind it if he did," James says. "I… I mean. When you like a girl, you don't really care about whether her hair is shorter, or longer. Blond or brunette or ginger or whatever. If she has… I don't know, a dimple when she smiles or doesn't. There are so many little differences that make them unique and it doesn't mean you won't kiss a dozen of them, right? They're not the same, but you like all of them with their differences. Like, you might have a type but once the crush is there you don't care. Freckles, no freckles, that sort of thing. It's all the same to you, isn't it?"
Sirius is nodding aggressively. "Yeah. Yes."
"Well, it's the same with boys. Some boys have stubble, some don't. Some have long hair," he points at Sirius, hoping it inspires something. "Some don't," he points at himself, just so it's not too aggressive.
James smiles at Sirius' frown, knowing he's working through this in his head. He hopes it's going in the right direction. "Look, I like Regulus and I just do. And Regulus is a certain way, and for some reason that works for me," James says. "And if there's stubble or not doesn't make a difference."
"But isn't it… he's a boy. I just. I can't fucking believe my little brother is gay," Sirius says, sounding agitated.
Oh not this again. Sirius is supposed to be figuring himself out, not fixating on Regulus. Ugh. But maybe. Wait. Maybe this is it.
"You could talk to him about it," James says tentatively.
Sirius chortles. "Don't. Stop that. Just because you like him doesn't mean I'm going to start to. He's an ass. I hate him, and don't forget I don't want you with him. I'm tolerating it because you'd walk around like a lost puppy if I asked you to stop but I have full faith that you'll see reason and stop this sooner rather than later."
"Thanks?" James laughs.
Sirius bumps his shoulder into James'. "Don't thank me yet," he says, only half-joking. "I'm still in shock. Might feel less charitable tomorrow."
James puts his arm over Sirius shoulder. Scoots over so they're close together. "I'll follow your lead, okay? If you don't want me to bring him up at all, I won't."
"That's physically impossible for you."
"It's not."
"James."
"What? I haven't told anyone about him. No one. Only you know."
Sirius hums, then nods. It's silence again for a while until Sirius breaks it. "Fair enough. What did he say?"
"About?"
"You said you told him you were going to tell me," Sirius explains. He takes yet another cigarette out and lights it, but James is hardly going to point out his chainsmoking. Not when Sirius is being so fucking reasonable about this whole thing.
"He thought you'd forbid me from seeing him," James admits. "He was scared, I think. He asked me not to tell you. He was adamant about it."
"But you still did?"
"I always planned to, Pads," James says. "No secrets. Never. Not between us."
Sirius is quiet for a long time after that. He stares at the sky, and breathes. Closes his eyes. Opens them again. Buries his hands in his hair, or puts them down on his lap. Sometimes they shake a little. Through it all, he is silent. Smoking, mostly. Not a word.
James doesn't interrupt it. He sits next to his best friend and weathers the storm he's brought on them with his choices. He doesn't regret them. Can't regret them, because he's got Regulus now and James knows it's the start of something epic. But he does wish it would have been easier. Someone that Sirius didn't hate so much it blurred back into love.
But it is what it is, and so James waits. He doesn't fidget. He doesn't complain. He sits. And he waits. And his patience pays off again, because after close to an hour, Sirius turns his face and buries it in the crook of his neck. "I'm still number one?"
"Always and forever, Sirius."
"Okay," he says quietly. "I fucking hate this, Prongs. But yeah. Okay."
Regulus has prefect patrol duty with Lupin again. This is slightly nerve wracking because Regulus is convinced Lupin will take one look at him and know that James kissed him to within an inch of his life two days ago. Lupin doesn't, obviously. In fact, he barely looks at him that much. But Regulus is still a little stressed about it because it seems impossible that something so unbelievable has happened to him and no one can tell.
Regulus always knew his mask was made of iron, but if he ever doubted his ability to close himself off from the world, this has convinced him his face is unreadable. Which works for him, because he'll need a good poker face for what he's planning.
Regulus and Lupin walk side by side in silence, as they always do. Comfortable. No stupid questions to fill the time. No fidgeting. No gossip. Lupin is Regulus' favourite patrol partner, which he thinks is a cruel joke of the universe. But Regulus knows the universe hates his guts, so this is hardly surprising.
The first hour is rather boring. They march down empty corridor after empty corridor, glancing this way and that in case there are students out of bed after curfew. So far, they haven't really run into anyone. It makes the time spent patrolling a bit of a waste, in Regulus' opinion. He never thought he'd wish for it, but he kind of wants someone to cause a bit of trouble. Just for something to do.
Suddenly, Miss Norris meowls and darts in front of them from Salazar only knows where before disappearing down a staircase. They both startle a little but neither Lupin nor Regulus make a fuss about the scare.
They hear her meowl as the staircase begins to move, trapping her on it until it stops again. Regulus rolls his eyes. "Stupid cat."
Lupin lets out a dry chuckle, but doesn't say anything.
They keep walking. Regulus has noticed that close to two months at Hogwarts have helped Lupin fill out. He looks less skinny. Less like he grew tall too quickly. It suits him. Regulus thinks, once again, that this guy is handsome.
But tonight, Lupin looks exhausted. There are deep bruises under his eyes, and the shade of his skin is more greyish than it should be. Regulus notices that Lupin gets progressively more tired the longer they patrol together. Two hours in—they've got a three hour patrol—and Lupin is kind of dragging his feet a bit, though he's doing his best to make sure Regulus doesn't notice.
They're near the bridge that runs towards the owlry, and Regulus changes course before he can second guess himself.
"What are you doing? Route's this way," Lupin says. He takes the opportunity to stop walking for a moment, confirming Regulus' suspicions.
"Just a minute," he replies, and keeps going until he's on the bridge.
He's not too surprised to hear Lupin's steps behind him. Regulus stops about one third of the way onto the bridge, far enough that no smoke will accidentally drift indoors—that would get him caught—but not so far it's too much effort to go back and finish their round.
Regulus leans his forearms on the railing and takes a cigarette out, then offers one to Lupin.
"This is against the rules," Lupin says, hesitating.
"Worried the prefects on patrol will knock points off you?" Regulus asks, raising an eyebrow.
Lupin's lips twitch, and he takes the cigarette. He leans against the railing next to Regulus and sighs, glancing up at the expanse of darkness and the lights hanging from it. It's a nice night. A few clouds drift across the sky, but they can see the stars and the moon. Almost full.
Sirius blinks down at him, effortless and powerful. The brightest star in the sky. Regulus gut twists. James hasn't written to him again, and he's not on the roof tonight—Regulus checked—so either Sirius won this war or James hasn't told him yet. Regulus hates this. Hates it so much because why couldn't he have had this with Barty or Evan or even freaking Lupin.
Regulus' eyes slide sideways and find Lupin staring up at the moon like it has personally offended him. Regulus goes back to his internal crisis.
If his crush had been on Lupin, not James, it would have been easier. Literally anyone in this entire fucking castle would have been easier than the guy his brother replaced him with. It's like Regulus likes pain. He's starting to think he might. Why else would he get in this deep with the only guy who is one hundred percent sure to choose Sirius over him every single time?
He could have had it with anyone. Anyone but James 'Soulmate to Sirius Black' Potter. Because Regulus is certain that Sirius will win. James is never going to choose Regulus. He shouldn't. Regulus knows that, objectively, nobody should choose him. He's a mess, and he's broken, and so angry he's going to raise hell and bring down vengeance so vicious they'll remember his name for generations.
But Regulus is selfish, and wants James too much to allow logic to taint his wants. James shouldn't choose him. But he would like him to. Regulus would do unspeakable things if it meant James would come back.
It's all pointless, though. Because should or shouldn't don't matter when he knows the outcome.
Sirius—his actual blood, shared, with all its darkness—already chose James over Regulus. Of course, James is going to choose Sirius, too.
Regulus should be used to it. He's not.
"You alright?" Lupin asks, startling Regulus.
Regulus scowls at him. "What?"
Lupin glances at his hand pointedly. The hand that's gripping the railing so hard the wood just groaned. Regulus releases it. Makes a mental note to keep track of it so he doesn't give himself away again.
"Are you in trouble or something?" Lupin asks again.
Regulus' eyebrows reach his hairline. "What are you doing?"
Lupin shrugs. "Just checking in. Don't make it weird."
"Don't make—" Regulus blinks. "We don't talk. And now you're talking. You're the one making it fucking weird."
He puts his cigarette out, rolling his eyes at Lupin. Honestly. What is it with Gryffindors and their stupid sense of honour and duty? They were having such a good time, quietly smoking so Lupin could catch a break. This is what Regulus gets for attempting to be nice. It's his sign that he should never do it again—clearly, he's much better at just being a selfish prick.
Regulus begins to walk down the bridge to resume their patrol and end the now very much awkward situation. What a disappointment. He had such hopes for Lupin and their future patrolling together. He had to go and ruin it with words. Questions.
"Where do you get cigarettes?" Lupin asks him when he catches up. He's breathing hard, like the power walk down the bridge was enough to exhaust him.
It doesn't make sense, Regulus thinks. Lupin doesn't play Quidditch, but he's not that out of shape. Is he? He realises he has no idea. Except, he used to run around the school with Sirius and his friends playing pranks on people. They've stopped that this year for some reason—touch wood it continues—but Remus has sprinted down his fair share of corridors over the years to avoid Filch.
"None of your business, Lupin."
Weirdly, this makes Lupin smirk. He nods to himself, like he's in on a little secret. Thankfully, he doesn't attempt conversation, having finally picked up on Regulus' very clear signals that he does not want to talk. After a little while of blessed silence, Regulus decides he'll forgive tonight's slip up if Lupin never tries to enquire after his wellbeing again. Regulus will excuse it as a lapse in judgment caused by the obvious exhaustion Lupin is battling.
Their three hours are almost up when they find trouble. Regulus sends a silent string of curses up to whoever or whatever is listening, because of course they had to run into a small group of Seventh year Slytherins harassing two muggle-born Hufflepuffs five minutes before they're done for the evening.
Regulus deeply regrets whining about being bored in his mind for the first two hours.
He hears Lupin sigh like he, too, is regretting the choices that led to him being here tonight, but then Lupin rallies. Salazar only knows where he finds the strength to stand up to his full height and take his wand out when a second ago he could barely put one foot in front of the other.
Regulus is impressed, against his will, but he's impressed.
"Oi!" Lupin says, charging forward. "Leave them alone."
Dolohov, Lestrange—the younger one, the older one graduated a couple years ago—and Avery look at him. Snape doesn't. He's still smirking at the two Hufflepuffs who are cornered against the wall and looking on the verge of tears.
"I thought you said they would have walked past here already," Dolohov snaps at Avery, who looks downright shocked to see the two prefects.
Fucking typical of this lot to know prefect patrol schedules so they can harass people without getting caught.
"Snape," Lupin drawls. "Back off."
Severus looks up then. He glances at Regulus briefly, then fixes his eyes on Lupin. "Rough night to be out, isn't it?"
Lupin's grip on his wand falters. He brings it down so he's not pointing at them directly. "I'll be taking fifty points off Slytherin for harassing students. Plus ten more from each of you for being out past curfew," Lupin says firmly.
The smile that spreads across Dolohov's face is feral. Regulus would be intimidated if he respected Dolohov even just a little bit. He doesn't, because Dolohov is a foot soldier. All muscle, no brain. Regulus could take him with his eyes closed and a hand tied behind his back.
But the smile is scary. Probably practiced for effect. He'll give him that.
"I don't think so, Lupin," Dolohov says, eyeing the wand Lupin is gripping at his side, not yet pointed up. "You're a little outnumbered, aren't you?"
Lupin glances at Regulus.
Ah. Fuck. This is going to get ugly, isn't it? Regulus has no love for any of the Slytherins in front of him. He's one hundred percent indifferent towards Avery and Dolohov. Lestrange is alright, and he secretly sympathises with him because Rodolphus is fucking mental and treats Rabastan like literal shit. Not that Regulus has ever voiced this or ever will. But. Solidarity for terrible older brothers, you know?
And then there's Severus Snape, whom Regulus full on despises. He's a hypocrite. A slimy creep that's always lying and manipulating everything and everyone. Regulus thinks it's quite hilarious that he's so bothered with blood purity when he's only a half-blood, something he would very much like everyone to forget. Too bad Regulus has convinced Barty to make sure to drop it into conversations every now and then. Casually, like it's an accident. But Barty does it, because Regulus put the idea in his head, and it drives Severus insane that it keeps popping up. He deserves it, Regulus thinks. And after he cursed Sirius with that bloody spell he created? Regulus is disgusted to even breathe the same air. There's something about Severus that makes him want to commit murder.
"Black's not going to lift a finger against us," says Avery. "Not to side with two filthy mudbloods."
Lupin's wand flies, and then Avery's legs give way and he crumbles to the floor with a shriek. Regulus thinks it's quite funny how he starts cussing from the floor, unable to get himself back up.
Dolohov, Lestrange and Snape all raise their wands and turn to Lupin, and by extension to Regulus because he's still standing next to his fellow prefect.
Regulus adopts a suffering air and rolls his eyes. He takes a step forward, and the Slytherins hesitate because he is the Heir to the House of Black, and that carries weight. Doesn't Regulus know it.
"Come on. Get the fuck out of here," Regulus says to the two Hufflepuff, sneering at them to keep up appearances. "Twenty points from Hufflepuff for being out after curfew."
The two kids sprint away so fast you could be forgiven for believing the devil was on their tails. With them gone, Regulus looks at the Slytherins and tilts his head towards Lupin. "You do know this is a bad idea," he says, addressing Lestrange because he likes him most.
"He hexed Avery," Lestrange replies.
"And I'll hex the rest of you lot if you don't fucking scramble. And the points have been taken!" Lupin insists.
Regulus looks at him. "Three against one. Are you sure?"
And Lupin stares back, shocked. Regulus isn't sure how he feels about the fact that Lupin had just… assumed that Regulus would have his back. Why would he do that? "Three against one?"
Regulus shrugs. "I'm not getting involved."
Dolohov sniggers. "Not so brave now, Lupin. Are you?"
And Lupin. Fucking Remus Lupin, rolls his shoulders back and smirks at them. Regulus is dismayed to find that he respects this. He's brave, the idiot. Regulus has to give him that. But he's so tired. Exhausted, actually. And he's putting on a show, but it won't last long.
The three Slytherins raise their wands again, calculating. Lupin is going to take them on alone. Regulus cannot help him. He simply can't. He wants to, kinda, because Lupin has that haggard but reckless look about him and it's… attractive, Regulus thinks. Both in a sexual way but also in a grown up I want to be like when I'm older kind of way.
But he can't. That's final.
Regulus braces himself to watch Lupin get absolutely pummelled when, out of nowhere, Peter Pettigrew comes barrelling down the corridor, wand raised. Running like he's being chased, even though he's not. And he's smart, because the Slytherins haven't seen him and he doesn't announce himself. He doesn't shout to Lupin that he's got him, or makes any sound. He simply rolls up and takes aim.
And somehow, Lupin and Pettigrew know which one the other's going to attack so they don't double up.
"Petrificus Totalus," Lupin shouts, taking down Dolohov just as Pettigrew's stunning spell hits Lestrange in the back.
Regulus thinks that was clever, and wonders if Lupin knew Pettigrew was coming. His money is on no. He was one hundred percent going to face them alone, and got lucky at the last second. Very Gryffindor of him. It's probably going to get him killed eventually, but whatever. So long as it's not in front of Regulus, he's not that bothered.
Severus pales, glances around at his fallen comrades and takes a sidestep. "You can't touch me," Severus says, though he doesn't sound too sure of it.
"Says who?"
Lupin takes a step forward, eyes narrowed almost to slits. Regulus notes the tense set of his shoulders, the vein pulsing on his forehead. Merlin's beard on fire, Lupin absolutely hates Severus.
"Moony?" Pettigrew asks. Lupin ignores him, but Pettigrew comes to stand next to his friend anyway. He looks hesitant, but stays where he is.
"You don't have it in you," Severus says. "Too worried about proving you're not the monster we know you are."
Regulus blinks. Severus speaks like he knows Lupin… intimately. And that's just no. Something's going on here that Regulus isn't privy to. And it's not that. He's never been more sure of anything in his life than he is of the fact that Remus Lupin would rather die than touch Severus Snape with a pole. He doesn't know why or how. But Regulus knows.
So, whatever has happened between them is darker. And it intrigues Regulus. He adds it to the mental list of things he wants to know, slightly alarmed at how long it's getting. But he has no time to ponder because the scene in front of him continues to unfold.
"Should have thought of that before you almost killed Sirius," Lupin says, and a shiver runs down Regulus' back because that is the voice of someone who's contemplating murder. Cold, sharp. With teeth so it can cut through bones. "I had his blood on my hands. He was dying and it was your doing, Snivellius. I think I'm justified."
Something happens to his face then. It twists and darkens like he's genuinely giving into some deep killer instinct. It's fascinating to watch. Obviously, Lupin is holding a grudge against Severus for the attack on Sirius—Regulus secretly supports this, don't tell anyone—and it's a heavy grudge. The hatred of it contorts Lupin's face, turning his features a little wolfish.
Regulus feels a trickle of concern pierce his gut, and Salazar Slytherin have mercy on Severus' soul because he's going to need it. Remus Lupin is a dangerous man under that unbothered exterior. He's about to send Severus to his early grave.
Regulus knows a good place behind the greenhouses to bury the body.
"Moony, I don't think this is a good idea. This isn't you," Pettigrew says quietly. He is, once again, ignored.
Lupin takes a step closer to Severus.
"I will tell!" Severus says. Regulus doesn't miss the waver in his voice or the fear flashing in his eyes.
"No, you won't," Lupin snarls. "You won't be able to talk again."
"Remus, stop it. Don't do this," Peter insists. "You'll regret it."
"Shut up, Pete!"
Lupin looks crazed.
And it hits Regulus that Pettigrew is right. Lupin is not all there. He's a bit out of it and that's not the right mindset for one's first murder. It's one thing to take a life consciously. Knowingly. For a reason. Whatever reason, but one you've thought through and accepted.
It's another thing entirely to do it on a violent whim.
Lupin raises his wand, and Regulus hesitates. Severus deserves whatever is coming, but it'll ruin Lupin. He knows. Deep down, in his gut. This is not the way to get revenge. Ask him all about it. He's an expert. Lupin will regret this to the end of his days, and that's just shit. No one deserves that kind of life. So, Regulus stops him.
"Expelliarmus!"
Lupin's wand goes flying and he whirls on his feet, turning his body towards Regulus. Severus full on sprints away, leaving his friends behind. What a coward, that one. Good riddance. Lupin takes a step closer, but Regulus holds his ground, staring down Lupin with his wand trained on him.
"How dare you?!" Lupin growls.
Regulus rolls his eyes, pretends nonchalance. "Honestly, Lupin. Get a grip. You're embarrassing yourself."
Pettigrew narrows his eyes at Regulus, but he's not concerned about the little one. Regulus is only focused on Lupin. On whether he's going to back down or they're going to have a problem. Regulus doesn't want to have a problem with Lupin because he's James' friend and somewhere in his gut Regulus is still hoping James will come looking for him like he promised.
Antagonising one—two, actually—of his closest friends isn't a smart idea.
"This is it, then," Lupin says, straightening and glaring at Regulus like he's a disease. "Your choice."
Regulus has no idea what he's on about, but alright. If it gets him off aggressive mode, he'll take it. "Whatever Lupin," he says, pocketing his wand. He turns and walks a few steps down the corridor before looking over his shoulder, "Ten points from Gryffindor for being out after curfew, Pettigrew."
Lupin lets out a string of curses that follows Regulus almost all the way to the dungeons, ringing in his ears.
Notes:
Prongsfoot own my heart. Platonic soulmates of the century. The millennium!!! Sirius freaking out hard at Regulus being gay because he's projecting? HELP. I love him. And his biggest fear, that James would steal his precious Remus? UGH. Delicious, if I'm allowed to say it myself.
Regulus and Remus -- reluctanct besties. Just you wait. These two like to be grumpy and quiet together, but it'll take time.
I will try to update again on Sunday but there's a chance it'll be Monday because I'm a bit busy :(
THANK YOU FOR ALL THE AMAZING COMMENTS YOU LEFT IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER. IT MADE ME SO HAPPY.
Also, I promise Jegulus in the next chapter, and in pretty much every chapter after that for a while. This one just had to happen in between.
THANK YOU AGAIN! :D