Regulus sits in a cushy armchair in the Slytherin common room, across the low table from two other friends. A heavy -the heaviest in fact- book is open on his lap, a sheaf of papers with crease lines on them to make it look like it came as a letter.

He runs his finger along the edge of the parchment, glances again to the side where the upper year purebloods have congregated. Regulus is in third-year, he's nothing to them.

Regulus sighs loudly and throws the papers down into the book, slams it shut with as much strength as he can before he stops himself. The chatter hushes for a second at the loud bang, people looking over at the sudden noise.

"My mother," Regulus says quickly before someone can tell him to quiet down. "Is sending me essays about keeping away from the forest lest someone try to take me away like with the Potter heir. My brother must be getting even worse since he could have been taken too. Honestly, she's near hysterical at the thought of Black blood being used for something."

The last of the chatter dies down to an unnatural quiet.

Parkinson is still poised over the chessboard, frozen. "You – what? The Black House thinks Potter was attacked because he was an heir?"

"Mother is just worried," Regulus says, hands clenched around the book. "But, I mean, Pettigrew was killed immediately, wasn't he? And you heard those rumours about Potter being stunned and dragged towards the edge of the wards." Regulus clears his throat. "Anyway, who's winning the game? I spaced out for a bit."

A moment as everyone realises Regulus has no more news to share. Some of the lower years are gauche enough to start writing letters immediately. Regulus' friends soon scatter back to their dorms. A few upper years head out.

Regulus doesn't care how many stupid secrets his brother bribes him with, he's never doing this again.

James' letters had managed to hold off his parents this long but as soon as all that talk about heirs gets out, James gets called to the headmaster's office while they Floo in.

James' parents are quite old as they had difficulty with conceiving an heir until James popped up, quite different from other pureblood families who often have children as soon as possible.

Fleamont Potter, like all born Potters, has awful eyesight and a mess of hair – because despite being the inventor of the bestselling Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, the man is far too proud of his own untameable bedhead to actually use it. Except for now, when he steps through the Floo dressed in full robes of the Potter crest, hair slicked back and eyes dark.

Euphemia Potter follows close after, a beautiful older woman of below average height and above average temper. James' parents clearly had a talk before this because instead of laying into Dumbledore like James' mum definitely wants to do, she beelines it for James and gets him into a stranglehold of a hug.

"Show me around, sweetie," Euphemia says and it's an order.

James walks his mum out of the headmaster's office, glancing back one last time before the door closes to see his dad lean over the desk.

"I don't want to go home," James says after a moment of silence while they stand on a high balcony overlooking the Herbology grounds, which seem to breathe if you stare at one spot for too long.

"Is it pride?" Euphemia asks, arm linked with James'. "Sorry, dear, you get that from me."

"A bit of pride," James admits. "Exams are far off, I know I can get back into things before then."

"I don't care about your grades," Euphemia deadpans. "James, are you doing okay?"

"Wow, you used my name," James gasps. "Sometimes I think you've forgotten what you named me."

"Don't make me throw you off this balcony, Pumpkin Spice."

James shrugs. "I…took care of the rumours going around, that was what bothered me the most. I'm calming down as well, don't get lost in my head as much."

"Your father gets so sensitive too," Euphemia muses. "That's what makes him such a great man, he can really connect with people." She pats James' arm. "Anything else on your to-do list?"

James shrugs. "I want to visit Peter's family again but with that whole 'kidnaping heirs' bull, they probably don't want to see me just yet."

"I have some pictures of you four, we can take the Pettigrews the best of Peter along with a care package," Euphemia says. "You tell me when you're ready to go."

"Thanks," James murmurs. "Finish all the homework that piled up. Talk to Lily – she's been avoiding me I think. Learn – a lot of spells."

"Defensive?" Euphemia asks and then chuckles. "Oh my, what am I thinking? Offensive for you, love."

"Healing," James admits.

"Healing," Euphemia echoes with a smile. "You can do a lot of damage with those as well, and I know how creative you can get."

"Mum," James laughs. "This is supposed to be a nice pacifist moment."

"That rubbish won't last," Euphemia scoffs. "You'd go head-first into a dragon's mouth out of sheer curiosity if I'd let you – you don't need healing, you need a bloody keeper."

"I'm trying to-" James gestures vaguely. "Okay, so. I'm trying to be a better person. Like not do pranks anymore and really focus on something worthwhile."

"Just make sure it's something worth your while," Euphemia warns. "If you want to be a medi-wizard you're not going to last long if you don't like it."

James slumps. "I want to come back ten years later and brag to Peter about how many lives I've saved."

"You're not that kind of person, James," Euphemia lectures. "You're just not built like that. Not now at least, and that's fine. You want adventure and excitement - and don't get me wrong, you can still save lives like that."

James huffs. "When I become the kind of person who can sit through another four years of medical school, you're going to eat those words."

"I'm positively quaking in my expensive heels, dear."

James frowns.

Euphemia sighs fondly. "You're only fifteen. You have time."

After his parents leave, James is still riding the high of family hugs and happy conversations. For once he doesn't retreat to his bed and instead sits in the common room, squished into a three-seater couch by the other -two- Marauders as they read.

"Lily," James calls when he sees her steps through the portrait. "Can we talk?"

Lily pauses but turns to him, red hair blazing even more brightly against the fire of the hearth as she passes it. She stops in front of him. "Yeah?"

"Should we go for a walk?" James asks and finally extracts himself from Sirius and Remus.

"What?" Lily asks, eyebrows drawing together. "Really, James? Am I going to wait for the apology or are you just going to pretend nothing happened?"

James pauses. "I…don't know what you-"

"My fault," Remus says. "I told everyone you needed time...in not the nicest words."

James blinks and turns back to Lily. "Um, yeah. I wasn't in the right headspace."

Lily starts to say something but stops herself. She sighs and nods. "I heard. Are you doing better?"

"Better," James agrees with a smile. "And you?"

"Busy with assignments lately," Lily admits.

"Should we head out?" James asks, turns his body to the exit.

"Why were you at the forest?" Lily blurts out like she'd been thinking about it for so long she couldn't help herself. "I told you it was dumb idea, James, but you brushed me off multiple times. What, is it because I'm a girl that you don't ever listen?"

James blinks, feels that contentment from earlier drain away, but feels Sirius and Remus rise up at his back in response. "No? I never meant it like that, it's just that we have our own thing. We've been friends for so long that we've got habits – sometimes we go out."

Lily's exhale is shaky and she messes with her hair, drags it around her face to try and block the flush that appears, the wet eyes.

"Lily, what's wrong?" James whispers, puts a hand on her shoulder, swallows past the sinking feeling in his stomach.

"I just…keep thinking," Lily tries, sounding choked. "James, if I had convinced you it was a horrible idea, would Peter be alive right now?"

James' heart is hammering away and he feels like he can't breathe.

"James didn't suggest going, I did," Remus cuts in. "James came up with the idea in second year. I was the one who wanted to get out that night. Are you going to blame me for Peter's death now?"

"No!" Lily cries, surprised. "No, of course not."

"It sounds like it," Sirius says. "It sounds like you think we're the ones who brought it on ourselves instead of the person running around murdering people. It sounds like you don't know shit, Lily, so how about you shut up."

"You're putting words in my mouth," Lily snaps back. "I try to ask you something to understand, you shove me away. You think you're the only ones affected? Like I can't mourn Peter too?"

Sirius steps forward, teeth gritted. "Are you really so tone deaf? After you learned he was gone, you asked me if a prank had turned wrong in that fucking self-assured voice like you have any right to judge us. Just say it, Lily, say you think we're not as smart as you even when James and Remus top the fucking grade."

"You don't know anything about me!" Lily yells. "You don't know how hard I work, how much I care. All you four ever cared about was having a fun time, is it so much of a surprise that I don't trust you to do the right thing?"

James takes Sirius' hand and leaves, walks up the spiral staircase to the boys' dorms. Remus says something quiet to Lily, something cutting judging by the weighted silence after.

James goes to his bed, climbs in, still with Sirius' hand in his.

"Sorry," Sirius says quietly. "I shouldn't have done that in front of you."

"That's okay," James murmurs. "I – well, better it comes out now."

Remus enters the room with their books in hand and dumps them on Sirius' bed as he passes, then takes a seat next to James.

"I want to go home," James whispers.

"I can get your parents for you," Remus says, rubbing calm circles into James' back.

James takes a stuttering inhale. "No. No, I can do this."

"Alright," Remus soothes. "But just know that you don't have to."

.

A/N: I know it's depressing now but we're getting into the fun stuff soon, I promise.