The 64 chapter one

by Bossey

Remover

8. 8

Chapter 8: Kiss Me

Notes:

Hello hello!

Listen, this chapter made me giggle when I wrote it because it's got Bartylus AND Jegulus in it. Regulus doesn't know what to do with himself, but I say good for him.

A little Wolfstar (more is coming in the next few chapters, I promise!)

TWs

Mentions / discussions of homophobia and internalized homophobia

Discussions of bad parents / child neglect / abuse

Swearing!

Brief mention of gaslighting (not actively seen in chapter, just mentioned that someone is doing it to someone else)

Mentions of possible future death

Mentions of possible future animal attack

Anxiety

Mentions of being sick (no one is, but they think they might be because they're nervous)

Cigarettes - though no one is smoking in this chapter!

Enjoy :)

Chapter Text

Regulus is elbows deep in his potions prep when Barty shows up in the lab unannounced. For the first time since they met age eleven, Regulus isn't too pleased to see Barty. In fact, he's inconvenienced. He needs to focus on what he's doing, and if Barty is here to be all fucking weird for no reason again, Regulus will kick him out. He's about to say as much when he hears Pandora coming in after Barty. Dorcas brings up the rear.

"Where's Evan?" is the first thing Regulus asks, because his absence is so obvious to Regulus he wants to smack Barty over the head for the stunt he pulled in the Charms classroom yesterday.

Evan noticed Barty acting strange towards Regulus, and he's been in a mood since. Last night in their dorms was awkward, to the point that even Edward fucking Selwyn asked Evan if he was alright (Selwyn only talks to Evan directly. He avoids Barty and Regulus like the plague).

Barty is trying to pretend nothing happened, gaslighting Evan when he asked if there was something going on. Barty wasn't too good at it, so the blond boy could definitely tell Barty was lying, which is only making Evan more anxious. Regulus is trying to stay out of it because he's just not here for drama and also, he's not entirely sure what Barty was doing or why.

"Sulking somewhere," Barty says, oblivious. "He won't say why, but he's in a foul mood. Anyway, he'll get over it." Regulus stares at Barty, dumbfounded. Is he this unaware, or is he just trying his best to gaslight himself? Regulus can't tell.

Barty needs help, Regulus thinks. They all do, if he's honest, but he's not looking at that too closely.

Barty shrugs. Then, "Stop what you're doing, Reg. You need to listen to this."

Regulus tenses like a bowstring. This sounds like Pandora had another dream. He sighs, and puts town the knife and lavender petals he was prepping for his sleeping draught. He makes it in batches, but the potion can't sit for too long or it loses the effect so he's here at least once a week, brewing lavender and asphodel and about seven other ingredients so that he can get some damn sleep.

He brings the fire down to let the potion simmer, then steps away from his desk to face his friends. Dorcas' uniform has suffered alterations overnight, which makes Regulus mildly suspicious. Not that he's ever going to ask.

Dorcas' skirt is shorter than before, though nothing scandalous enough that someone would put her in detention for it. She's sewn two pins to her shirt and added a small silver clip to her Slytherin tie. Regulus quite likes the clip, because he's a silver jewellery preacher. Gold has no place on one's body.

"Pandora had a dream," Dorcas announces dramatically.

Here we go. "When?" Regulus asks.

Dorcas smirks. "Just now. She was having a nap on your bed."

Regulus blinks at this information but that's all the reaction they get. It's not the first time Pandora takes a nap in their room. Does he like she was using his bed? No. Is he going to make a big deal out of it? Also no. Because this is Pandora, and Pandora is to be protected. Even from himself.

He runs a hand through his hair, then nods. "Well?"

Pandora tilts her head up, as though listening to someone hovering above her. She nods, then fixes Regulus with a look. "There was a wolf. You were in danger."

Regulus groans. Not this again. Wasn't the ominous cave dream enough? Why does Pandora's subconscious insist on putting him in peril? Regulus thinks this is unfair. His life is shitty enough without divine intervention making it worse. Besides, he's already in peril. Or will be, once he fully kicks his revenge plans into motion.

"Reg," Dorcas says, a warning in her voice. "If Pan says you're in danger, you are. We need to be ready."

I am ready. But he doesn't say, because he hasn't told them what he plans to do. He's not sure he will. There are a few unresolve threads to his plan that he's struggling to make a decision on, and thus ignoring for the time being.

Barty crosses his arms over his chest. "Dorcas is right."

"Of course I'm right."

Regulus rolls his eyes. "Fine. A wolf will maul me to death, is that it?"

"No," Pandora says, twirling one finger in a strand of long, blond hair. "First of all, my dreams aren't literal. The wolf represents some danger. Like, just danger as a concept. Not an actual wolf."

"Makes sense," Dorcas chimes in. "Reg could take a wolf. It would hardly kill him. He's fucking fast and mean."

"What is it, then?" Barty asks.

"Whatever it is, Regulus is threatened by it. He's in danger, and he has two choices. To trust the stag or to go at it alone," Pandora explains calmly.

Regulus is so startled by a new animal being introduced into this already bonkers scenario that he almost chuckles. What in Salazar's nightmares is this? Wasn't the cave enough? Honestly. He knows his revenge is dangerous. That what he wants to do will end up with him hurt or dead. But does Pandora really have to constantly remind him of it? He's trying to have a semi-normal school year! The last one he'll ever have. He could do without the doom and gloom.

Apparently, Pandora isn't done. Her blue eyes find his and she gets all solemn and serious. "I couldn't see past the choice you make, which means it's important. Also, the Grimm shows up in the dream, so it truly is a dangerous situation. Life or death." Her voice wavers a little bit before she composes herself. Pandora's always good at leaving her emotions out of her dream interpretation. That, Regulus can admit.

"I can't tell you what happens. But I think what you need to do is trust the stag. The stag gave me like… peaceful, warm vibes. So, trust it. Alright?" Pandora's eyes are big and earnest and Regulus wants to make light of this, but feels it would be disrespectful.

Dorcas and Barty both look confused, but worried. It's… Regulus doesn't like it. It makes him feel all weird inside, like worms are crawling in his blood vessels. Besides, they've got nothing to worry about. Dorcas said it. He's fast and he's mean. Regulus prides himself in his magical skill. It's the only thing that makes him salvageable. The one thing that gives him some worth. His brain.

Regulus shakes his head. "Thank you, Pan. I will keep this in mind."

He won't. He respects Pandora's abilities and he knows for a fact that they are real. It's just that it's too hard to decipher them. He could spend weeks puzzling over what the wolf and the stag represent and never figure it out. The moment of peril could come and go without him connecting the dots—this has happened before, where they only realized Pandora had dreamt the situation after the fact. Not very useful.

"I think we should look into animal imagery and meanings," Dorcas says, chewing her bottom lip. "I don't like that Pan is dreaming about you in peril, Reg. I really don't."

"I'll be fine," Regulus says. "I'll trust the stag."

Barty's face twitches, but he knows better than to retort to that. Pandora and Dorcas exchange a glance. "We're going to the library, just in case. We'll look into wolves and stags and see what we find," Dorcas says.

"The Grimm, too," Pandora adds.

Dorcas nods, hooks her arm in Pandora's and glances at Reg again. "You finish your potions. We'll see you for dinner, yeah?"

Regulus' chest gets uncomfortably tight and warm. He wants to crawl under a desk, for some reason. He doesn't, obviously. But he wants to. Instead, he shrugs. "You don't have to do that."

Pandora smiles at him. "We know. But we want to."

With that, they leave. And Regulus is… well. He's floored because this doesn't happen to him. Not really. He's… he's smart and skilled and ruthless. Nobody defends him. Nobody has to. Deep down, Regulus has always wondered if anyone ever would.

It's nice, he realizes. Pandora and Dorcas going to the library to do a bit of reading for him. It's nice. He likes it. He's grateful.

He's afraid. He's guilty.

He can't remember the last time he did something for Pandora. So now he owes her. Which like fine, because she's Pandora but also… it makes Regulus a bit nervous.

And Dorcas? Well. Just. He should have hurt Blair more. Stayed up with Dorcas more often. Given her his bed, maybe? He hasn't done enough for her, because he's been so busy with his own shit and honestly? How can he even call himself a frie—

"Stop that. Don't do that," Barty says aggressively. Regulus frowns, glares at him. Barty sits on a desk. "You're our friend, Reg. Sometimes, we do things for you. It's how friendship works."

Regulus stands still, trying to process. He knows this is true. Like, objectively. Logically. He understands the concept of friendship. And, to an extent, he does shit for his friends all the time. Without thinking. Because they're his friends and he can do a lot of things they can't. It's a no brainer, really.

But why would they do anything for him? He's... broken. Frozen. Bones and cold and pain and spite. That's all he is, all he'll ever be. Vengeance and anger and bitterness. Who would want to do anything for someone so filled with ugly shit?

"I want to ask you something," Barty says suddenly. "No. I need to ask you something."

Regulus looks at him and the hairs at the base of his neck rise. Barty's nervous. He can tell immediately. And Regulus' mind reacts by focusing on the way Barty's chewing his lip and tapping a finger on his knee. He's suddenly hyper aware of the fact that they're alone in the potions lab and that nobody is going to come disturb them, because Slughorn trusts Regulus here and gives him free reign.

"No." The word punches out of Regulus like an arrow. Sharp. Deadly. Unstoppable.

Barty's scoffs. He slides off the desk and takes a step towards Regulus. "You don't know what I'm going to ask."

"It's a no."

Regulus is sweating. His head is a little light, dizzy. He's fiddling with his rings almost obsessively.

Barty takes another step. Regulus is rooted to the spot. His feet won't obey him. He should move. Get out of the way. Tell Barty to fuck off.

He should, so why isn't he doing it?

"Barty," he says, and his voice is a little hoarse.

Apparently, Barty thinks that's a good sign and not an indication that Regulus is one sudden move from keeling over. He steps all the way up to Regulus, until their shoes are toe-to-toe.

"Please," Barty says. Weak, and pleading.

Regulus scowls. "What?"

"I just need to figure something out, Reg," Barty says, eyes searching his face. "And it has to be you because it can't be Evan. And there's no one else. I don't trust anyone else."

"It can't be Evan," Regulus repeats, pursing his lips to show Barty he doesn't think this is a good idea. Not even remotely. Whatever Barty is playing at is going to end badly.

But Barty only nods. He runs a hand through his hair, closes his eyes. Opens them again. "You're… well, you're you. No attachments. No feelings. Evan is… I can't ask this of Evan. It has to be you."

Regulus isn't breathing. If he was, his chest would graze Barty's because that's how fucking close they are. Barty smells nice. Regulus knew this before, but now he's like hyperaware of it. It's clean and crisp, like lemons. His eyes are blue, and his cheekbones are sharp, and Regulus has never been this close to a boy before. Not even the muggle in the pub this summer.

It's doing things to his insides that are not entirely unpleasant.

"I can't help you…" Regulus has to swallow. "Never done this before. I don't—"

Barty nods, a small smile tugging the corner of his lips upwards. "Yeah. Yeah, no. Me neither. So maybe, maybe we can check? Right? That's what I need. I just… I need to know. To be sure?"

Regulus doesn't need to check anything. There's no doubt in his mind that he's gay. He like boys. It's a truth as solid and unmovable as the sun rising every morning. But Barty apparently does. He's terrified. Regulus can tell because his breathing is all erratic and Barty is sweating too and his eyes are a little wild.

Regulus isn't sure Barty will recover if he rejects him right now. If he rejects this desperate plea for help.

Is that good enough for his first kiss?

Regulus doesn't know. What is good enough? Barty is his friend. He's someone he trusts as much as Regulus can trust anyone. Barty is insane, but also loyal. His first friend. Barty is someone he used to fancy. Objectively, Barty is hot as fuck.

Maybe that's enough? It's just… Regulus cannot get a first kiss again. There's only one. Barty is asking him for it.

Regulus never really thought what his first kiss would look like. He wasn't even sure he'd ever get one.

Except… well. There was one moment. Just the one. In the forest, the other night. Friday. Four days ago, Regulus stood in the shadows of the Forbidden Forest and for one single, wild, terrifying moment, wondered if James Potter was going to kiss him.

As a prank, obviously. But still. And… a part of him wanted it. Because it was James and Regulus has always wanted to know what James tastes like. Except James will never look at Regulus that way. Not for real. Not in any way that counts.

But what if?

And no. Regulus won't do this to himself. He's not going to not do something on the off chance that the impossible might happen. That's stupid and Regulus is many things but stupid isn't one of them.

"Why me?" Regulus asks Barty, tilting his head to the side a little bit.

Barty's eyes dip to his mouth and he swallows thickly. Tries to smile but he's shaking so it's more of a grimace. "Well, I… I think you're…"

He stops. Takes a deep breath.

"You're hot okay? I just can't stop noticing it. You showed up at school this year and I cannot look anywhere else and what does that even mean? And then there's Evan, and have you noticed how gorgeous he is? Evan! Like… I just… Reg, he touched my hand yesterday and I got hard." Barty chokes on the word, cheeks blushing so violently Regulus wonders if it hurt.

Desperation is rolling off Barty in waves, and it's making Regulus want to do something about it. His friend is struggling, and for once Regulus can't fix it by hurting someone. Because the person causing Barty distress is Barty himself.

He looks terrified. "It's embarrassing, Reg. I'm confused. I'm so confused. I don't… I… I like girls, right? Like, I like them. I swear I like them, they're gorgeous and soft and tits are… I mean, have you seen a boob up close? Fucking brilliant. But then, why? What is happening to me? I don't understand. Why am I noticing you and Evan? Oh and Lupin. And… and that chaser from Hufflepuff. Like what the fuck, Reg?"

Barty's hands are in his hair, and he's tugging at it like he's trying to force these thoughts of his brain.

Regulus is struggling to not react. Barty is one hundred percent correct. The people he's listed are good looking people. Attractive. Lupin, specially. But Regulus doesn't know what to say to all this, because he's never… well. Regulus has never had doubts. He's never liked girls at all.

Barty is still ranting, listing off names that Regulus sometimes doesn't recognise. That is, until Barty's eyes almost fall off his sockets and he says, "And worst of all Potter. Fucking Potter, Reg, if you can believe it. The guy is hot and I noticed it and I hate myself. It's disgusting. But he's just—"

Absolutely not.

Regulus will not stand here and listen to Barty or anyone else talk about the ways in which James is hot. He will not.

"Barty, stop. Stop right now," Regulus snaps, cutting his off. "Is this about your father?"

He recoils then. Stepping back, away from Regulus. Shakes his head. "No."

Regulus waits. Looks at him, calm and measured and knowing. Barty closes his eyes. Opens them. And then, "Okay. Maybe?"

Barty looks down, hunches his shoulders a little bit. Ashamed. But Regulus can't… ah, he won't have Barty ashamed of who he likes. Over his dead body. He just needs to figure this out. Regulus is going to help him, or he's going to try.

"You want to kiss me so it helps you figure out if you really like boys or if you're acting out to piss your dad off?" Regulus asks plainly.

Barty looks on the verge of tears, which is something Regulus doesn't see very often. It takes a lot to push Barty this far. If he could, Regulus would kill Bartemius Crouch. He's thought about it, long and hard. One day, he will. If Barty doesn't get there first, that is.

"Do you like boys?" Barty asks him. "I mean I thought you might, after yesterday, but I haven't asked you and maybe you think I'm—"

And Regulus looks him dead in the eye and says "Yes."

Barty lets out a long breath. "How did you know?"

Regulus leans on a desk next to Barty. Fidgets with one of his rings. "I just did. I saw this guy… and it was like woah. I was too young to have proper… ehm… sexual ideas. But I definitely had a crush on him. And then, when I was old enough to experience sexual attraction it was always boys. I just… for me, there was no question. It's always boys. Only boys."

"But you said you've never kissed anyone," Barty whispers.

"Well. I don't know who else might be queer, so I've never risked it," Regulus admits.

Barty nods like this makes all the sense in the world. "Yeah. No, I get it. That could end up real bad. And once people know, you can't take it back. But also… that sucks, Reg. You're sixteen."

"So are you."

"Yeah, but I've kissed people. I've had sex," Barty says. "A lot of it. With girls, mind you, which is fucking awesome. It's just… why am I now thinking about kissing dudes? What is wrong with me?"

"Nothing," Regulus says immediately. Zero hesitation. He pushes himself off the desk and comes to stand in front of Barty. "There's nothing wrong with you, Barty. You can like both girls and boys. That's nobody's business but your own. And I'm pretty sure you aren't the only one. People just don't advertise it, for obvious reasons."

Barty looks at him, helpless. Afraid. "I'm so confused, Reg. I don't know what to do. I can't tell if it's real, or if it's…"

"That's okay," Regulus says. "You're sixteen, mate. You're hardly going to have it all figured out by now."

"You do," Barty says, one hundred percent genuine.

Regulus shrugs, runs a hand through his curls. "Special circumstances."

Barty chuckles, and they fall into a gentle silence. Regulus watches Barty think, emotions flitting through his face. There's hate, and pain. There's a dangerous gleam, too. Regulus wishes he could take down the head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement right now. Kill him painfully. Practice his curses on him. It might be the only time in his life Bartemius Crouch is genuinely useful. The man isn't worthy of the air he breathes.

Barty shifts his weight, purses his lips. He takes a deep breath and look straight at Regulus.

"Can I touch you?" Barty asks, looking down at where Regulus' fingers are twisting his rings.

Regulus is tense all over again, but also… He's not a coward. And he's not stupid. He won't wait for James or for anyone else. Barty wants this. Needs this. And Regulus… well. The clock is ticking, isn't it? He's got a few months left of normal.

He says, "Yes. Okay, yes."

Regulus braces himself as Barty takes his hand. It makes him want to squirm, but less than usual. He tries to remember he's chosen this. This is his choice. He's in control. He can tell Barty to back off and Barty will.

He's okay.

Regulus swallows. Barty spreads his legs and tugs. Regulus is standing between them now. Once again close to Barty. His fourteen year old self would have collapsed from sheer shock. And excitement.

"You're mean, and prickly, and scowl way too much," Barty tells him, quietly. He's afraid. They're both afraid. "But you're the first person I chose for myself. The first friend my father didn't influence. And, in a twisted, fucked up way, we get each other. Because your mother is as bad as my father."

Regulus nods. He knows what's going to happen. This time, he's not going to stop it because Barty needs this. And Regulus wants to know what it feels like. A kiss. With someone he trusts. Someone who's good looking enough to have made his knees weak when he was younger.

"I can't trust anyone else with this, Reg," Barty says. "But it's your choice."

Barty looks up, into his eyes. Question. Trust. This is the most vulnerable Regulus has ever seen Barty.

And Regulus kisses him. He does it a little aggressively, because he's afraid he'll chicken out if he gives himself time. So, he presses his lips against Barty's hard enough for the boy to rock back a little.

It's nice. His world doesn't shift. The sky doesn't tear open. But it's nice, Regulus thinks. He's not sure if—

Oh.

Obviously, Barty knows something he doesn't. His tongue is running over Regulus' lower lip and it's… it's better than nice.

Regulus sighs, and when his mouth opens, Barty takes charge. His tongue dips into Regulus' mouth and Regulus head spins. He does his best to keep up. He knows it's obvious to Barty that he has no idea what he's doing, but this is Barty. His friend. It doesn't matter that Regulus is terrible at this. Not with Barty.

And suddenly he knows this is a perfect first kiss because he can learn, and test, and make mistakes and it won't cripple him with self doubt. Barty knew he'd never done it before. He knew it would be bad. Awful, mayve. Regulus isn't sure if he's got any natural skill for this. He shouldn't, because… well. He's Regulus Black. But despite that, despite everything, Barty still wanted it to be Reg. And honestly, Barty is good at this which helps a lot, because Reg is a quick study.

They're skill kissing. Tongues and teeth and lips. It's messier than Regulus expected, and if he thinks about it he wants to step back, but he's also enjoying it, somehow. So he stays. And pays attention to what Barty is doing and tries to do the same.

Regulus relaxes, somehow. Despite the fact that he's kissing someone, and Barty's hands are running up his arms towards his shoulders, he relaxes into it. Regulus wanted to know, and now he knows, and he's going to have to find ways to get more of this in the next few months because he's been missing out.

Kissing is great.

Regulus steps closer and Barty groans. And it goes straight to the base of Regulus' spine. Salazar Fucking Slytherin. He's going to pass out.

They break the kiss, breathing ragged and clumsy. And Regulus forces himself to hold Barty's gaze.

"Yeah," Barty says, grinning. "I one hundred percent like boys."

And Regulus, despite everything or perhaps because of it, laughs.

"Let's not do this again, yeah?" Barty asks. "You're hot and everything, but it would make everything weird."

Regulus lets out a shaky breath. Relieved. Because kissing Barty was nice, and he's glad he did it. He knows now, and if he ever kisses anyone, he won't feel like a fumbling idiot.

But Regulus isn't interested in Barty. Not this way. And he knows Evan is. It's better they leave this behind them as a one-off. An experiment. A friend helping a friend.

Regulus nods. "Agreed."

"Okay," Barty says, grinning. "Now, I'm gonna give you some tips, alright?"

Regulus rolls his eyes, but he doesn't tell Barty to shut up.

James folds the map and groans as quietly as he can. Regulus hasn't left his dorm all night. It's almost midnight, and James can't help but wonder whether Remus was wrong and Regulus didn't want to smoke that badly.

The rest of his friends are fast asleep. There was a bit of a commotion when Peter made it back to the dorm and James explained everything, but they've since calmed down and gone to bed. James can hear the deep, slow breathing that indicates they're all asleep. Only he's awake. Waiting.

Perhaps he should have waited. Not sent the cigarettes so quickly. James still has the second pack and he's promised himself he's going to wait before sending it to him.

He sighs and leans back on his pillow. The aches and bruises are almost gone thanks to the potions Remus brought him. He'll get sleep tonight, which James knows he needs. Still. He was hoping Regulus would have left his dorm to smoke.

James falls asleep, and he dreams of pale, smooth skin. Lips that never smile, dark curls and eyes a deep green tinged with grey.

James wakes up sweating and aching for entirely different reasons than when he fell asleep.

He's jittery all the way to breakfast. Sirius notices, but he believes him when James tells him it's excitement about the Order. Remus has a pep in his step. He's had one since he found out the Order wants him, and that makes James smile. Peter is also excited about Sunday, but he's less endearing about it because Peter has never been denied anything simply for existing. Remus has, and now he's invited into an exclusive space. He's thriving.

They walk into the Great Hall together, drawing eyes like they always do. James has an arm thrown over Sirius shoulder. They both strut by the tables like they own the place. The past two days have been awesome, and they're in the best mood. On top of the world. Heroes about to join the secret ranks that will save everyone.

Sirius smirks at a group of Hufflepuff girls as they walk and James swears one of them swoons. He thinks he hears Remus scoff behind them, but James is breaming too much to tear his eyes away.

Nobody would ever know that on Monday night Sirius fell asleep purring on Remus' lap while having his hair stroked. Not this Sirius. The Sirius everyone gets outside the Marauder's dorm is cool, and untouchable. He can be loud—and often is—for the attention, but never soft. A little bit like Regulus, though with a lot less scowling and a lot more leather.

There's an open spot next to the girls, who look deep in conversation as they approach. Sirius slides in next to Marlene, fellow Gryffindor beater. She gives him a smirk and they do a little secret fist-pump handshake thing they've got for pre-game hype.

"Tonight's practice is going to kick ass," Marlene says.

James loves how well they get along because they make a killer team. Oh, this year's Cup is in the bag!

Sirius puts half his hair up and sticks his wand through it to keep it in place before he winks at Marlene. Then, he plucks a hash brown off her plate. Marlene rolls her eyes. "There's a whole tray literally right there."

"Tastes better when I've stolen it from you," Sirius says.

Peter slides in next to Mary, who immediately puts a cup of juice in front of him. Peter thanks her, still half asleep. Mary and Lily look up at James, still standing, and smile.

"Gonna stand there all morning, Cap?" Marlene teases.

James sits across from Sirius. Mary, leans across the table, past Lily and taps James' arm. "Oi, Potter," she says. "What the ever-loving hell happened to you Monday? Didn't wanna ask yesterday because Lily insisted we give you space, but I'm dying to know."

James chuckles, puts on a bit of a show. He runs a hand through his hair, tilt is his head. He may or may not flex his arm a little so the girls can see his muscles bulge in shit shirt. "Tried too risky a move on the broom and had a passionate encounter with the grass."

Sirius barks a laugh, head throw back. Remus, sitting next to Lily, looks away.

James winks at Marlene. "Can't be the best Quidditch Captain if I'm not willing to take a few risks."

Lily shakes her head. "You could have broken a bone or something."

"That has never stopped him before," Remus says. He drinks coffee. Black, no sugar. James cannot stomach even the smell of it.

He pours himself some tea and dumps at least three spoonfuls of honey.

Mail arrives then. James loves it. It's so exciting, and a little bit chaotic. He looks up to watch the owls sweep into the hall, dropping letters and packages into eager hands. There's a letter for him and one for Sirius from their parents. He passes it over the table without a word. Sirius snatches it up and puts it in his pocket. He never reads Effie's letters in public.

James opens his, scans it quickly. No bad news. Nothing is wrong. He can read it properly later, now that he knows all is well. Pocketing his letter, he takes a bite out of a shortbread biscuit and watches Peter's owl struggle with a package larger than she is.

Peter's parents have sent him some sweets. Remus tries to steal the chocolate, but Peter is ready for him and keeps it out of his reach with true mastery.

"Wormy," Remus whines.

"Nope," Peter says. "Maybe later, if you ask nicely."

Sirius narrows his eyes at them, but only James' notices. All in all, it's a very nice breakfast. Except. James wants to look. Desperately. But he can't. Not here. Not surrounded by people.

"So," Marlene says, putting down her cup of tea a little too violently. "I need a volunteer."

"What for?" Peter asks.

Lily looks at James, squinting as though examining him for something. "He could work. Look at his eyelashes."

James blinks, confused. "My what?"

"Eyelashes," Mary insists. "They're perfect. Long. Thick."

"What do you need James' lashes for?" Sirius asks, curious.

Marlene smiles. "We need a model to practice something. We need a model with nice eyes and lashes."

James is a little bit curious, but he doesn't have bandwidth. He shakes his head. "Sorry girls, I don't have time. The first Quidditch match is in a few weeks. I've got a strategy to work on."

And I have to figure out a way to get Regulus Black to talk to me, James thinks but doesn't say. He does his best to keep his eyes firmly on the table. He cannot get caught looking at the Slytherins.

"Sirius has pretty eyes and long lashes," says Remus casually.

Sirius chokes on his juice, spills all around him. Marlene shoots him a knowing smile that he misses because he's too busy fighting for his life. Peter passes him a napkin. "Here."

Sirius takes it, pats his face. There's a tear rolling over his cheek, but he's mostly recovered. He takes a deep breath, runs a hand through his hair, then gives the girl a casual smirk. "Sure. I'll be your model."

"Brilliant," Marlene says, clapping her hands. Mary and Lily exchange satisfied nods that make James suspect this was what they wanted all along.

Sirius pulls his wand out of his hair and casts a spell to clean the mess he made on the table and Remus… James wonders whether the vein on his forehead will explode, and if it'll cause a mess too or it'll be internal. Quite frankly, at this point, anything that can trigger either of them to take action is welcome. Even an aneurysm or whatever.

"Sunday night?" Lily asks Sirius.

He shakes his head, putting his hair up again. "Sunday night's busy. We can do Monday. Or Saturday."

"Monday," James says. "Monday is best."

He doesn't want whatever this is interfering with either Sirius or Remus' duel with Moody. James glances at Remus, whose face is buried so deep in his coffee his nose must be submerged.

"Alright. Monday," Sirius says, unbothered.

James catches Peter's knowing smile. Eyes twinkling as Lily nods towards him subtly. Ah. So there's something happening here that James isn't privy to. He can guess, though. Whatever the girls want to do to Sirius is designed to try and provoke Remus into doing something.

Lily is very close with Remus, and James knows there's no way she has missed how he reacts to Sirius.

James approves. The girls getting involved can only speed things along. Bring the two of them closer together faster, which is good because honestly, it's about time.

If they ask for his help, he will give it. Otherwise, he'll stay out of it. James has enough to worry about on his own and he trusts these girls more than he does himself. So.

He's distracted, and therefore careless. It's why he forgets he can't look. He does. Over Sirius' head and across the hall, all the way to the Slytherin table.

Regulus is there, and the sight of him hits James like a bolt of lightning. He wonders if there'll ever be a day when he can look at Regulus without feeling like he's been punched. He doubts it. Regulus is so fucking beautiful.

He's drinking from a cup, quietly going through his breakfast. Meadowes and Crouch are next to him, discussing something animatedly. Pandora is with them today. As far as James knows, she's the only person from a different house the Slytherins allow to sit with them. Some of the seventh years look her way a few times, but no one says anything to her. James has no doubt Barty Crouch would have something to say about it if they did. He's been known to go off the rails and do reckless shit from time to time. Defending Pandora would be a justified outlet for his tendencies.

Halfway down the table there's the two girls whose hair turned into a rainbow. James wants to know who did it, because it was a genius prank. Just… elegant. Perfectly executed. And whoever did it didn't get caught. Genius, if you ask him. Outstanding performance. Today, they're wearing beanies which tells James nobody has yet figured out how to reverse whatever happened to them.

Regulus looks up from his coffee as Rosier walks in. Crouch glances at Rosier, too, lips tense and pressed into a thin line. Rosier looks a little rough, like he didn't sleep well. When he sits down next to Regulus, he says something to the boy that makes him stiffen. Regulus isn't very expressive. He keeps his body coiled and tight most of the time. But every now and then the mask slips a little bit. Whatever Evan said to him threw Regulus off balance. Meadowes and Pandora have caught on, and are watching with confused and concerned expressions.

Regulus doesn't engage. Whatever Rosier is baiting him with, he lets it slide off him. But then, Rosier must say something really mean because Regulus pushes himself away from the table and stands. James watches as Crouch calls after him, but Regulus keeps walking away. James is out of his seat before he knows what he's doing.

"I left my books in the dorm," he says hurriedly. "Will see you in class."

Everyone mutters their agreement, too busy discussing gossip from the Witches Weekly that Mary just received to really pay attention to James' fake book drama. Sirius shoots him a look 'you okay?' And James nods 'yes, don't worry.' Sirius accepts this, and goes back to the magazine gossip with the girls.

James slips away as fast as he can without running. The last thing he needs is to draw attention to the fact that he's chasing after Regulus Black.

He catches a glimpse of his cloak turning a corner and hurries after him. Now that he's out of view, James dares to run. He goes as fast as he can, trying to control his breathing so he isn't heaving when he finally catches up to Regulus.

When he makes the turn, he comes face to face with Regulus' wand.

"Wha—" Regulus' eyebrows shoot up. "Potter?"

James grins. Regulus is so beautiful! He steps forward confidently, despite the wand poking him in the chest. "We need to stop meeting like this."

Regulus isn't impressed. He doesn't lower the wand. "Go away."

James is getting a little desperate. He's not used to people not engaging with him. Regulus is confusing, and lovely, and James struggles to think straight when he's threatening him. Apparently, James is into dangerous people. Who would have known.

"Come on, Black. Don't I get at least a thank you?" He sounds a little winded. Or wounded. James isn't sure.

Regulus blinks. His eyelashes are so long. The girls would have a field day with him for a model, except James doesn't want anyone else to realize how gorgeous Regulus is. He likes that he's the one with this knowledge, as far as he can tell. Is he the only one?

Regulus tilts his head, scowls. His wand lowers a millimetre. "For what?"

"Oh," James says, landing back in the immediate here and now. "You didn't get the cigarettes?"

Regulus stills, drops his wand. "What?"

"I… ehm… did you not get a package yesterday? My owl should have delivered it but I was a bit distracted so maybe…"

"Oh." Regulus reaches inside his robes. Extracts the small package James hastily wrapped. It's still untouched.

To James' surprise, Regulus proceeds to open it right there and then. He tears the paper carefully, and James struggles to breathe as he watches Regulus' long, nimble fingers work around his poor packaging skills. He's wearing three rings today, one on his middle finger on the right hand, and two on his left - index and ring fingers.

He takes out the pack of cigarettes and turns it around, finding the note James attached to it.

I don't need to know why.

Thanks for that last vial of potion.

JP.

Regulus scowls at the paper, then looks at James with a frown so deep there are three lines between his eyebrows. And what wouldn't he give to step forward and press his fingers to that frown. Ease that tension away. See what Regulus looks like when he's not scowling, because lovely as he is, James thinks Regulus is even lovelier if he's smiling.

But he doesn't. Not yet. He can't. He'll scare Regulus away and he cannot afford to do that.

"Listen," James says, because he can see this going south quick. He needs to score a point somehow. "Remus told me you were out of smokes and I wanted to say thanks for giving me the last vial. I couldn't have done it myself. That's all it is."

"What happened?" Regulus asks him.

James blinks, confused. It doesn't help that Regulus' eyes are so distracting, or that he's still gripping the cigarettes with those long, ring clad fingers.

"What?"

"Your hands," Regulus says.

James blushes. "My own fault. I did something stupid."

Regulus' face doesn't change. But something James can't parse flits through his eyes. "Stupid people do stupid shit."

James smiles, amused. "I know you've got better insults than that, Black. Calling me stupid is hardly original."

"Where did you get them?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" James teases.

He regrets it immediately because what little progress he has made with Regulus vanishes. His face shuts down completely, one hundred per cent blank.

"What is this, Potter? If you're attempting to prank me it'll end badly for you," Regulus says, like he's not even worried about the possibility of being pranked, only inconvenienced. "Very badly."

James shakes his head, runs a hand through his hair. "No pranks, Black. Believe it or not, some people do things just because. No ulterior motive."

"I don't believe you."

"Why would I prank you, Black?" James asks, earnest. "Why here? Why like this?"

"Because you're an idiot and have an immature idea of fun," Regulus replies smoothly.

"Oh, come on," James complains. "First of all, our pranks are hilarious. Second of all, our pranks are way more creative than wherever this could be. Besides, a prank is only as good as the reaction you get. There's no prank without an audience. And no one's looking."

Regulus wrinkles his nose like this concept is utterly foreign to him. For a brief moment, James thinks he's managed it, but then Regulus' expression shutters again.

"Leave me the fuck alone, Potter. Find someone else to pester."

"Black," James' hand darts out without his permission. He catches himself just in time, retreats without touching the other boy. Regulus notices. He stops turning away, eyebrows raised.

"If you need more," James says, nodding towards the cigarettes, "all you need to do is ask."

"What's your price?"

James doesn't hesitate, doesn't blink. He needs Regulus to know this is genuine. "Conversation. Just a chat. A civil chat."

"I'd rather stick quills into my eyes," Regulus says.

"Don't. They're too lovely," James blurts out. Stupid. Careless.

Regulus will mock him now. Insult him for real. There's no way the heir to the house of Black—if he's still that, which James is fervently hoping he's not—is open minded. He'll never even consider that a boy can like another boy. He's bracing himself for insults. For hate. So he's completely caught off guard when Regulus speaks next.

"You shouldn't go around saying things like that to people you don't trust," Regulus says, stiff but not disgusted. "It's dangerous."

And James. Oh. James sees the opening. He thinks he does, anyway. That's enough. The sliver of possibility is enough for him to take the leap of faith.

"Ah, Black. You should know I like me a little danger."

James winks.

Holds his breath. Prays to Godric Gryffindor and Merlin and every other ancient, powerful deity he knows or has heard of that he didn't misread that reaction.

And Regulus… Regulus is blushing. It's barely there, but he's very pale so it's not hard for James to spot it. The pink spreads over his cheeks and it's so lovely, so beautiful that James' mouth opens into an O.

Time stands still. Suspended in this moment as the tectonics plates of their worlds shift and accommodate. They make space for something to grow here. It's impossible. It should be. But it's happening anyway.

If James is careful, he could plant it. It could grow and exist. Tie them together. If he works on it. Step by step. Brick by brick.

And he's willing. James is willing to do the work. Lay foundations. Nurture, and water. Like the sun shining on a little plant, James will give himself over to this.

Because… fuck. If there's a chance Regulus is everything they thought he wasn't… Well. Sirius will get his brother back and James… what James wants he can't acknowledge. Not yet. Because Sirius comes first but maybe. One day. If he does this properly.

"You are an absolute bellend, Potter," Regulus says, blinking fast. He's turning around, and walking away. The blush has almost vanished, but James saw it. He saw it, and that's all that matters.

James lets him get away, because this round went a million times better than he thought it would and he won't risk messing it up. So he watches as Regulus walks, elegant, and composed, and so above everyone else he could truly be a god walking amongst mortals.

Ah. James was in trouble before. Struggling in unknown waters, fighting to stop himself from going in. James was keeping himself afloat with effort and stubborness alone. Now? Now's he sinking fast, fully submerged, inevitably under. And he does not want to try to swim.