Stars above, Black Below
When Regulus Black and James Potter get selected to compete in the same dangerous yet prestigious tournament, an intense rivalry is unleashed.
Rivalry graduates into infatuation, and infatuation is the first step to something more.
*or*
James has always struggled to know the difference between love and infatuation.
—-
Chapter one
James Potter realized he was losing.
He was not just losing, he was losing to Regulus Black.
As he sprinted through the forest with desperate paces thumping on the leaves, he knew he would not catch his prey - and that he would lose.
James' prey was a short, intoxicating blur of black hair and green robes. Short, intoxicating, and at least 30 paces ahead of him.
Short enough that when it came to a test of pure speed their roles should be reversed. James should be looking over his shoulder behind him, and be faced with a deep scowl, determined green eyes and a minimum of 50 paces between them.
Intoxicating enough that he had been so hypnotized by green eyes that he barely even noticed as he fully drowned in Black.
And now, red robes chased green. Tall legs chased short sprints. Lion hunted Snake.
A Golden boy reaches for Black.
Regulus' black hair shone like a diamond in the sea of green, silently beckoning James to run faster, to catch up, to see if he could get close enough to capture the scent of eucalyptus that lingered in the Slytherin's black locks.
James could barely feel his legs as he sprinted through the trees in pursuit of his prey. The Green robes in front of him taunted him, dancing in the wind in an infuriating yet beautiful melody.
He barely remembered why he was here; all thoughts of red and gold glory forgotten. The sole thing fuelling his legs was the lithe figure in front of him.
'How does he look elegant even when running from certain death'. James mentally cursed.
The ceiling of leaves above them forbade the sun from shining her light onto the forest floor. They had been running in the dark. His prey navigating, ducking between trees and over branches. James merely chased green, barely noticing as his legs were scraped and his feet stumbled in his desperate pursuit.
It was only when the green robes ahead sparkled in the sun, that perfect head of black hair shining brightly under its rays that James realized he had lost: the edge of the forest, and with it the end was here.
He could barely remember what exactly it was that he had lost. All he knew is it was something important, something pivotal, something he had loved.
His legs ached, somehow his heart ached more.
Despite the pain he kept running, even as he saw the end in sight and his loss graduated from an impossibility into a reality.
He wished his prey would turn around. He briefly wondered what he would see. Regret?
He did not have to wonder for long. His prey stepped into the sun, drinking up her rays and lifting his head to welcome her light.
The dooming announcement followed soon after.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, it is with great pleasure that I announce the winner of the third task: Regulus Arcturus Black."
James had lost, yet he didn't stop running. He would chase his prey to the end of the world, to the end of time.
Only as he stepped into the sun and Red approached Green he remembered what had happened.
A trap. A trick.
Goddamn Regulus Black had tricked him, and like a bee drawn to honey James had fallen for it.
Only then, basking in his victory, illuminated by the sun, did Regulus turn around and did their eyes meet.
Like two waves crashing into each other Green met Gold. Betrayal confronted Pride. Winner faced Loser.
And in that moment, James knew he had lost everything.
6 months earlier
At the Slytherin table the younger Black rolled his eyes as he listened to Pandora proclaim her new theory.
"Confirmation bias?" Regulus repeated incredulously.
Pandora nodded excitedly, silver eyes glimmering with excitement. The blue in her tie contrasted with the Greens of the Slytherin table, but no one had batted an eye as she had joined Regulus, Barty, Dorcas and Evan for breakfast at the Slytherin table. Everyone knew by now that Pandora simply did, went, and lived as she pleased.
"Exactly!" She proclaimed "Confirmation Bias is why you are so confused that everyone else cannot see what an 'arrogant toerag' Potter is. Because he is not. It's in your head Regulus, he is really quite lovely.
You simply decided years ago that he is an awful person and now every little thing he has done over the past seven years has reinforced that belief."
"Pandora, you think everyone is lovely." Regulus sighed and mentally chalked Pandora's theory up to nonsense. He usually enjoyed listening to his silver-haired friend's often unorthodox theories.
However, when it came to the point of James Potter being an arrogant, brother-stealing, lazy, rude, pompous ass Regulus could not in good conscience agree with Pandora's theory of "confirmation bias."
Pandora pouted and looked over towards the Gryffindor table. Then, with newfound evidence to support her theory she nodded her head towards the Gryffindor table.
"Even Evans doesn't hate him as much anymore. And she used to be the president of the James Potter hate club" Pandora sing-songed.
Regulus frowned, he had also noticed that Evans was more often conversing with than yelling at Potter these days.
Regulus's gaze briefly swept by the Gryffindor table and he noticed that Potter looked like he had not slept in a week and was playing with the measly slice of toast on his plate.
Regulus mentally added it to his list of reasons he disliked Potter; the Gryffindor seemed to party & prank more than study but somehow always ended up with good grades.
Regulus had always felt a sort of companionship with Evans. They'd barely interacted throughout their years at Hogwarts, but it pleased Regulus to know someone else saw through Potter's perfect persona. She appeared to be the only Gryffindor who did not worship the ground Sirius and his friends walked on, and Regulus was grateful to know there was at least one sane person in Gryffindor.
Now that Potter had seemingly fooled Evans into thinking he was a decent human being, Regulus felt oddly betrayed by the pretty redhead.
Regulus scowled and looked towards his other friends for support.
Dorcas shrugged:"I hate him on account of him being on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, I have never paid enough attention to him to have a further opinion."
This was fair, Dorcas did not pay much attention to things that were not either Quidditch or exceptionally pretty girls. Pandora turned to look at Barty and Evan, and motioned for them to share their opinion on her findings.
"Listen, I think you are both right." Barty started, and as he noticed Regulus shoot a murderous glare his way, Barty added "I agree with Regulus that Potter is arrogant and all-around insufferable."
Pandora frowned and shook her head "You don't dislike him nearly as much as Regulus does, all I am saying is that if he keeps looking for flaws he will find them." She insisted.
Barty shrugged:"Yes but that's because I am a weak, weak man and could not possibly hate someone as pretty as Potter."
Barty made a show of propping his head up on his hands and tilting his head sideways to gaze over at the Gryffindor table longingly.
Regulus choked on his drink. "Gross." Regulus spat out as he pushed Barty's hand from under his face, causing Barty to nearly lose his balance.
Evan quirked a brow and said:"Potter is your type?"
Regulus stopped paying attention to the conversation at this point, having heard it a million times before. Barty would loudly announce he had deemed another person in the school "pretty" or "shaggable" Evan would pretend not to care while questioning Barty on exactly what made said person shaggable and they would end up arguing over whether or not 'having long fingers made a person shaggable or not.'
Pandora grabbed Regulus's arm (she was one of the few people he didn't mind doing so) and she said softly "Just think about what I said please Reg? This fighting with your brother, your hatred for his friends, I worry that it's draining your aura, that's all"
Regulus sighed and promised her that he'd think about it, knowing deep down that he would reach the same conclusion as always: Sirius Black and James Potter would never exist in the same world as Regulus Black, and the waters between them would never be bridged.
—
James Potter was hungover.
His stomach lurched as he forced another bite of toast down his throat and looked up with tired, desperate eyes into the face of Remus Lupin. When Remus had hesitantly left Sirius & James alone with a full bottle of Firewhiskey and an inhuman amount of energy last night he'd reminded James that they had agreed to work on their Divination project the next day. James had in response flashed the werewolf a bright grin, taken another swig from the bottle of Firewhiskey and assured him that "Don't worry darling, I wouldn't miss the chance to divine with you for the world."
Right now, he found himself flinching as he met Remus's judging eyes, his theory that he could neck a bottle of Firewhiskey without being a wreck the next day properly disproved.
Remus simply quirked a brow which screamed 'I told you so'. James groaned and started preparing another bite that was gentle enough that he would not empty his stomach all over the Gryffindor table, but not small enough that Remus would give him another one of his disappointed glares.
He truly regretted last night; he had been roped into playing a Muggle card game called King's Cup with Sirius, Marlene, Remus, Peter and Frank - and after the game resulted in Frank on all fours barking like a dog they had promptly declared it their new favorite game.
Two hours later everyone else had gone to bed and he had kept the game going with just himself and Sirius. Thinking back on it, he had no idea how they'd managed to play the game meant for at least three people with just the two of them but his brain complained sharply when he tried to remember so instead he went back to his current mission: breakfast.
He didn't bother to look up as he noticed his Brown owl swooping down to the Gryffindor table, confident that his owl was only delivering the Daily Prophet. It was usually Peter or Remus who would take the paper from the owl and read through it over breakfast.
James thought it was a fair trade, he would pay for the paper that all his friends read and in return Peter or Remus would give him the important soundbites over breakfast.
Today, it was Peter that took the paper from his owl. Peter had barely glanced at the headline when James' plans for a solid breakfast to cure his complaining stomach were promptly interrupted by the sound of Peter's voice.
"Holy Shit. Holy fucking shit."
Peter was staring wide eyed at the front page. Peter's eyes were moving back and forth frantically as the rat animagus worked to digest the article as fast as possible.
Wordlessly he handed the paper to Remus, who had been impatiently trying to glance across the table to read it.
Peter was known for dramatics (he had once reacted in a similar way over a headline about some restaurant going bankrupt), so James went back to his breakfast.
It was only when he noticed the equally shocked and excited murmurs around the Great Hall and heard Remus proclaim "Holy shit indeed" that he snagged the paper and choked on his toast as he read the headline.
*ORDER OF MERLIN'S LANCELOT: SIR SAMUEL EVERTON DEAD, AGED 157.*
Not much was known about the order of Merlin's Knights other than that their members were always impeccably dressed, they had apparently saved the Wizarding World from imminent collapse multiple times and their Headquarters were rumored to be in the Castle of Camelot.
Naturally James with his vivid imagination had keenly taken the liberty of filling in the blanks as a child and now held the Order on a pedestal built up of what was likely 10% fact and 90% wild teenage imagination.
When Lily had overheard James practically drooling over the order's current Lancelot she had told him he would enjoy James Bond movies. James had frantically taken her up on the recommendation, keen to have a topic of conversation with the redhead that didn't revolve around his love proclamations or her rejections.
Currently in James's head the Order of Merlin practically equalled MI17, with Lancelot being its agent 007.
"It doesn't say anything about the cause of death." Remus analyzed with furrowed brows.
"You don't think he was murdered, do you Moony?" Peter whispered with wide eyes.
James was bound to agree with Peter. The Knights of the Order mostly worked in the background, they really only hosted the occasional event or made a public announcement when they had done something of global significance.
Sirius cut in "I imagine this so-called Dark Lord that's on the rise doesn't like having the Order on his heels, but I doubt he'd be able to get to them."
Remus looked surprised at Sirius being the voice of wisdom but nodded in agreement and murmured "You're probably right, I'm sure we'll discover more about the cause of death once the Aurors finish the paperwork."
Similar theories were being thrown around all over the Great Hall and from the adrenaline James' hangover was promptly forgotten.
He struggled to decide between eavesdropping around the hall and seeing if there were any interesting theories and spewing his own to the unfortunate Gryffindors around him and ended up doing a frantic combination of both.
The initial question that buzzed through the hall was:"How did Samuel Everton die?"
Conspiracy theories of murder, poison and a coup floated through the hall but they were all put to a stop as a new question spread like Fiendfyre through the hall.
"Who would replace him?"
As if on cue Dumbledore arrived in the Great Hall. The Hogwarts headmaster looked tired as he walked through the adrenaline-filled students towards the Teachers table.
Dumbledore stood up to the golden stand in front of the Teacher's table and the quiet buzz of the Great Hall settled into pure silence.
Dumbledore was known for enjoying the dramatics, and was known for enjoying dramatic pauses or lingering tension when he addressed students.
As James regarded the Headmaster he felt like right now this was not the case, and Dumbledore was simply not sure where to start. The Headmaster glanced at a piece of paper that he had placed on the golden stand and when he finally looked up James held his breath with the rest of the Great Hall.
"As some of you may have already heard, the current Lancelot Knight of the Order of Merlin, Samuel Everton, passed away last night." Dumbledore began.
James frowned in disappointment as he noted that the Headmaster had neither confirmed nor denied whether the death was one of natural causes.
"I am speaking to you now in my capacity as your Headmaster, but also as a member of the Order of Merlin."
James briefly wondered how much Dumbledore knew about what was going on with the Knights. Not much was known about the hierarchy at the order, except that the Knights sat at the top.
"Ser Samuel Everton is dead, but Lancelot is not. Like a Phoenix from the ashes he will rise in a new form, and the legacy will continue."
Dumbledore took a deep breath before continuing:"Hogwarts has long since had ties with the Order, and it is customary that the Knights are Recruited from the Hogwarts students aged 16 to 18."
There was a moment of silence as the students processed what this meant - and the silence was followed by excited murmurs.
James sat stunned as it slowly dawned upon him that the next person to be entered into the Knights was sitting in their midst.
He nearly fainted when he realized there was a chance it could be him.
Dumbledore didn't bother asking for silence, knowing that no one would want to miss any of the words he was currently presenting.
"The processes for how a new member is selected were established by the original Knights themselves. Each Knight created their own tests and trials to evaluate which shoulders are most fitted to carry their legacies."
James nodded, it had been decades since any of the Knights had been inducted. There were rumours that the Order had secretly succeeded in creating the Philosopher's Stone, as the members always seemed to live beyond the spans of other wizards. Each knight was selected in a different way, but from what was made Public it was known that the process to be induced was both very dangerous, and very competitive.
"In the case of Lancelot." Dumbledore continued "There will be two students participating in the trials set out centuries ago. The victor of these trials, will take on the mantle of Lancelot and join the noble Knights in their mission to protect the balance, integrity and safety of the Wizarding World.
Representatives from the Order will be arriving at Hogwarts tomorrow to begin the process of selecting the two candidates.
Classes tomorrow for those 16-18 will be canceled to give you all the chance to decide if you want to put yourself forward. Joining the Order is a commitment, the trials are dangerous, and once you are a candidate there is no way out of the process. The members of the Order will provide more information tomorrow.
On that note, enjoy breakfast!" Dumbledore finished and, without joining the teachers table behind him, walked back out of the Great Hall.