James Potter was bored
He trudged through the large corridors of Potter Manor, his footsteps echoing in the empty halls. Despite flying on a broom with his father around the Quidditch pitch and helping his mother and Bailey, their house elf bake cookies, boredom hung over him like a heavy cloak.
Don't get him the wrong way, James adored his parents. He was the only child of the Potter couple and therefore had been pampered by both of them since he had been born. Charlus and Dorea had faced complications in having an heir, and had lost hope until James was born on March 27, 1960. From the infamous Potter hair to the hazel eyes and the mischievous grin, the resemblance was striking enough to suggest that James and Charlus were brothers rather than father and son.
James was a pureblood, and as the heir to the House of Potter he had been raised as such. Although his mother, Dorea Potter née Black, did not support her family's supremacist ideas on blood purity, she still considered it essential to educate him in manners, etiquette, protocol, and ballroom dancing as she had been taught at his age.
The youngest Potter had always found it curious how his father, a Gryffindor, had ended up marrying his mother, a Slytherin. His mother, while abandoning the Black ideology post-marriage, retained certain aristocratic traits. On outings, her warm eyes turned haughty, her posture regal. If something upset her, angered her or was being disrespectful, her lips would curl into a cruel sneer, and sometimes, on the sly, James had heard his mother sporadically use the word mudbloods to refer to Muggle-borns, but had never used it in his presence.
In contrast, his father, a renowned potioner and Wizengamot figure, radiated a different presence. James admired his father, admired his father's protective nature and dreamed of a love like theirs. While imposing, Charlus was calm and smiling, a contrast to his mother's occasional aristocratic disdain. The Potter household, under Dorea's watchful eye, remained harmonious for James and Charlus, protected from the chaos that occasionally erupted when left alone.
Despite the comfort of his luxurious surroundings, James yearned for genuine companionship. The pureblood children at social gatherings failed to fill the void. He longed to shed the title of heir and simply be James..
His decision made, James swung open the front door, announcing his departure to his mother."Mom, I'm going out to the lake for a bit,"
"James, be careful and don't stay out too late," Dorea called after him.
The young troublemaker sighed as he wandered along the lake, kicking pebbles into the water absentmindedly, lost in his own thoughts, a sudden voice jolted him.
"Are you bloody crazy? I almost fell into the water because of you," James snapped, annoyance etched across his face, turning to face a boy with tousled blond hair and wide blue eyes.
"I'm sorry," the boy stammered nervously, visibly shaken. "I didn't mean to scare you. Please don't tell my father."
James, noticing how the boy in front of him was shaking like a leaf, softened, realizing his abruptness might've scared the boy. Extending his hand, he gave him his widest smile, "I'm James. Nice to meet you."
"Peter," the boy stammered, shaking James's hand nervously.
"Nice to meet you, Pete. Can I call you Pete? I'm eight. What about you? What are you doing in my lake?" James bombarded Peter with questions, exuding enthusiasm.
"I guess Pete's okay, and since when is this your lake?" Peter replied, a faint smile breaking through his nervousness. "I'm eight too."
With a touch of arrogance, James boasted puffing out his chest,"The lake has belonged to my family for generations. The manor you see there is my home."
Peter blushed, admitting, "I live in the village. My family doesn't have as much money as yours."
"The money is my dad's, he's a—", James clamped his mouth shut, he didn't know if Peter was a muggle or a wizard.
"Your father is a — what?" Peter raised a curious eyebrow at James' silence.
"Can you keep a secret?" James leaned in, his voice hushed. "If I tell you, you have to promise me you won't tell anyone."
Peter looked at him, a mix of worry and curiosity but nodded anyway. "My father is a wizard and a famous potioner."
"My mom is also a witch," Peter blurted out, his ears tinged with embarrassment.
Overjoyed, James suggested, "That's great! Do you have a broom? You can come play with my dad and me on our Quidditch pitch!" Excitement bubbled within prospect of a real friend had him practically bouncing on his heels.
Before Peter could respond, his mother's call interrupted, signaling it was time to head home. James, disappointed but undeterred, shouted after him, "Pete, will I see you again?"
With a small nod and an apologetic glance, Peter hurried toward his mother, leaving James with the hope of a newfound sense of excitement. Finally, it seemed, he had found a friend who saw beyond the heir and saw James for who he truly was.
"Aren't we going to talk about what happened yesterday?"
Lyall Lupin sat at the head of the breakfast table, the morning sunlight streaming through the curtains and casting a warm glow on the scene. His wife, Hope, was sitting to the right of him, calmly pouring water into her tea. His eldest son, Remus, slowly chewed a piece of toast, and his youngest daughter, Hermione, looked at him defiantly with her arms crossed.
"Princess, don't look at me like that," Lyall reprimanded in a soft voice, looking at Hermione, folding the morning newspaper and picking up his cup of coffee.
Hope raised an eyebrow, concern etching lines on her forehead, her gaze shifting between Lyall and Hermione, "What happened?"
"Hermione got into a fight yesterday with some boys much older than her and luckily, I arrived before they could hit her any more than she already is." Remus, who had been in his own world until now, opened his eyes wide, a mixture of surprise and concern written on his face as he glanced at his sister and the still-healing knuckles and poorly covered black eye.
"Hermione, darling, you can't go around fighting with kids older than you," Hope's worried green eyes locked onto her daughter's defiant chocolate ones.
"They were insulting Remus, been doing it for weeks! I did what I had to do to shut their bloody mouths," Hermione retorted, her frustration evident.
Hope gasped. "Young lady, watch that mouth!"
Lyall intervened, his voice calm but firm. "Princess, we've already talked about this. People are going to talk. You can't go around fist fighting everyone. I don't want you to get hurt."
Hermione crossed her arms, maintaining her defiant posture. "I had to do it, Dad. They were making fun of how sickly Remus looks."
Remus, his chocolate eyes tired with dark circles underneath and boaring new scar above his lip, finally spoke up. "Mimi, you didn't have to fight. It's not your fault that I'm... like this."
"Of course, I had to, Remy. I'd do it a million more times. It's not your fault a werewolf bit you," Hermione's voice cried out, her passion evident
Remus's lycanthropy was the Lupin's family secret, even Lyall and Hope avoided talking about it if they could but Hermione didn't, she liked to argue about everything and anything and wasn't afraid to say what she thought. Her parents had told her that four years ago, she seemed to have experienced a 'depressive' episode and then she had become the spitfire she was now.
Hermione of course knew that the 'episode' her parents were referring to was the dates on which she had woken up trapped in the body of a toddler. Seeing how her life changed overnight, she'd been upset. She'd never see Ron or Harry again, she'd never see Teddy again.
At first, she thought that maybe there was a way to return to her original timeline but her mother had photos of her pregnancy, so Hermione concluded that the Avada Kedavra had killed her and therefore she no longer existed in her original timeline.
With that in mind, she decided that if destiny had made her Remus's sister, she was going to make the most of it, starting with his childhood. Remus had been Hermione's favorite teacher and she remembered the stories he told her about his childhood, how lonely they had been for him due to his lycanthropy.
Hermione wished she could go to Hogwarts and make the Wolfsbane potion for her brother. Her twenty-four-year-old self knew how to prepare it with her eyes closed and had even been experimenting to make an improved version, but she was a seven-year-old who still had four long years left before stepping foot at Hogwarts. So in the meantime, Hermione tended his wounds, and snuggled together once the full moon transformation was over. At first, Remus, scared of the possibility of harming his little sister, had refused, but Hermione had been very insistent.
In exchange for all the pampering, Remus shared his precious books with her while they ate the sweets her mother prepared for them. Hermione, who was enjoying her new opportunity at being a child, forced her brother outside to get some vitamin D, stating that it was good one's health. He had laughed sarcastically saying that no matter how tanned he got, the scars would not disappear but he still complied with his sister's request. Remus was grateful for the sister he had because deep down, she taught him everyday how to love himself more, scars included.
"Reggie, are you ready? Hurry up!" Sirius called, impatience evident in his voice, making the door vibrate under his knocks.
"I'm coming!" Regulus retorted, swinging the door open. Sirius, clad in a black sweatshirt and matching sneakers, met his brother's gaze. "Mother lets you go out dressed like that?" he raised an eyebrow
Sirius grabbed Regulus's arm and pulled him onto the street, paying no heed to their mother's disapproval echoing in the background. The once proud and pampered heir of the Black family now faced indifference and hostility within the confines of Grimmauld Place.
"I don't care what Mother thinks, and you shouldn't either, Reggie. Don't believe everything she tells you," Sirius advised as they walked down the street.
Regulus, ever the more reserved of the two, whispered, "I don't know why you insist on antagonizing her so much. You used to love her, and you liked to make her proud of you. I remember."
"'Used to' is past tense, Reggie. It was before I found out what it really meant to be a Black," Sirius replied, his expression darkening.
Despite the strained relationship between Sirius and their mother, Regulus still admired his older brother and valued his opinions over their mother's. Since Sirius 'fall from grace', all the pampering she had once given to her eldest son, she had now poured into her youngest son. Walburga treated Sirius with cold indifference unless he provoked her wrath with his actions and then that's where the yelling and insults started.
"Don't worry about me, Reggie. No matter what Mother says, I'm still the heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black," Sirius spat disdainfully, his lips curled into a sneer.
Regulus, mimicking Sirius's facial expression, remarked, "When you do that, you resemble Mother."
Sirius playfully tousled his brother's hair, "You're a little shit, Reggie. But you're wrong. I don't resemble Mother; I resemble the Blacks. There's a huge difference."
Concerned about potentially disappointing their mother, Regulus fiddled with the cufflinks on his shirt with the family crest on it. "Do you think I'll ever disappoint Mother?"
"Hell will freeze over before that happens, Reggie. You're the baby of the family," Sirius said, teasingly,wrapping an arm around his brother. "Or are you going to do something that will disappoint Mother? If so, I want a front-row seat."
Regulus pushed his brother playfully, crossing his arms. "I don't know why I'm telling you if you're going to make fun of me, Siri."
Sirius stopped and turned to face Regulus, gripping his shoulders. "What's our family motto, Reggie?"
"Toujours Pur," Regulus replied immediately, confusion in his eyes. "I don't understand what that has to do with my worry of disappointing Mother."
"Now we're not talking about Mother; we're talking about you," Sirius asserted. "What does 'Toujours Pur' mean to you? And don't even think about repeating what Mother has been feeding us since we were babies."
Regulus looked down, admitting, "I..I don't know, Siri. Mother always talked about blood purity when she talked about the family motto."
Sirius cupped Regulus's face, offering a small smile. "Hey, Reggie, it's okay. Purity doesn't always mean blood; it means being true to your ideals, being true to yourself. We are the ones who make the rules, who pull the strings. A Black knows who he is and bows to no wizard."
Regulus pondered his brother's words, a wicked smirk appearing on his face. "When did you become so smart?"
"Fuck you, Reggie!" Sirius exclaimed dramatically, feigning offense. "I was trying to help you, and I was meaning to buy you a book. But you go and disrespect your older brother like this!"
"Siri, wait for me!" Regulus shouted chasing after his brother.
It didn't take long to catch up with him, both of them laughing as they walked down the bustling street. The tension that had lingered in Grimmauld Place seemed to dissipate with each step they took away from their family home.
"So, where are we going?" Regulus asked, his curiosity overcoming the lingering worry about disappointing their mother.
Sirius grinned mischievously. "I thought we could pay a visit to that new library near Diagon Alley. The owner's a Muggle born, it's got live music and the Butterbeer is amazing, 's like a pub where you can read."
Regulus hesitated for a moment, glancing over his shoulder as if half-expecting their mother to appear and scold them for daring to have a good time, but he shook off the thought and nodded. "Alright, let's go."
As they reached Diagon Alley, the lively atmosphere enveloped them. The laughter, the hustle and bustle of the wizarding world filled the air. The brothers strolled through the crowded street, blending in with the diverse crowd.
Sirius spotted the library and led the way. Once inside, the sound of a lively tune from a muggle band echoed through the air. The atmosphere was infectious, and Regulus couldn't help but feel a sense of liberation.
They found an empty table, and as they sat down, Sirius leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. "Reggie, you go and be your little swotty self and I'll wait here, want something to eat or drink?"
Regulus looked around, taking in the eclectic mix of witches, wizards and muggles from different backgrounds, "It's different, but I like it. For the time being, I'm not hungry, maybe later."
He walked through the rows of shelves, his eyes scanning the titles for something intriguing. The Black family library at Grimmauld Place had already been thoroughly explored by him, and now he sought something new, a literary gem that would capture his attention.
"Pride and Prejudice, good choice," a delicate voice to the right of him interrupted his thoughts. Regulus turned and found a girl with chestnut hair and deep chocolate eyes that seemed to bore into his soul. She was dressed in muggle clothing, he observed.
"Have you read it? Is it good?" he asked, holding the book in his hands.
"I think you'll like it. You're definitely dressed like the characters in the books," the girl replied, tilting her head and giggling.
Regulus looked down at his attire, perplexed. "What's wrong with my clothes? I'm not complaining about yours." He wore his usual ensemble of a shirt, vest, dress pants, and polished shoes.
"It's not common to see a boy dressed like you. I didn't mean to offend you," she apologized, extending her hand. "My name is Hermione."
Regulus, looking at the extended hand, took it delicately and placed a kiss on the knuckles. "Black. Regulus Black," he introduced himself.
"You didn't have to do that," Hermione blushed, and Regulus wondered if he had somehow offended her.
"I'm sorry if I have offended you in any way. It was not my intention," Regulus apologized
"You didn't. I'm just not used to being greeted like that," Hermione explained with a smile.
"Isn't that the correct way to greet a lady?" Regulus frowned, confused, his mother had insisted a lot in etiquette and protocol when greeting someone.
"I'm glad to know that chivalry is not dead," she concluded, making Regulus giggle as well, his shoulder relaxed. "Do you come here often?" he inquired
"My brother likes to read, and I've come to keep him company," Hermione explained with a smile.
"And you, do you like to read?" Regulus probed, he couldn't help it. It was the Black in him, always looking for ways to exploit and blackmail. However, he found himself genuinely intrigued by her.
"Are you giving me a third degree, Mr. Black?" Hermione asked, amused. "Want my blood type also?"
Embarrassed and blushing, Regulus rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. I'm a curious girl too. But to answer your question, Mr. Black, I do like to read," Hermione teased, reminiscent of his brother Sirius.
"Would you mind accompanying me to pay, or are they waiting for you? I can buy you a drink if you want. My brother is sitting at a table," Regulus offered, locking his gray eyes onto Hermione's chocolate ones.
"I'll come along with you to the cashier, but then I have to go. Another day, if you want, I'll accept that drink," Hermione laughed as Regulus paid for the book.
"Will I see you again, Hermione?" Regulus asked, noticing a boy similar to Hermione watching them, presumably her brother.
"Wouldn't you like to know, Mr. Black," Hermione smirked. If he didn't know better and she had raven hair and gray eyes, he would've thought Hermione and Sirius were twins
"So it's a yes?" Regulus quirked an eyebrow, he didn't like being toyed with.
"Are you always used to people doing what you tell them?" Hermione shot back with a playful tone.
"Maybe," Regulus responded with an indifferent shrug. "Or maybe I like you and would like to be acquaintances."
"Read the book, and we'll see," Hermione replied, clearly surprised by the proposal of friendship. "and the word you're looking for is friends, not acquaintances, Mr. Black" she mocked, faking a posh accent.
Regulus couldn't help but smile at Hermione's response. He liked the way she carried herself—confident, witty, and unapologetically herself. As they neared the library door, a tall boy with messy hair approached Hermione. "Mimi, there you are. I thought I'd lost in the labyrinth of books again," he said with a teasing grin.
Regulus recognized him by his looks, he was the male version of his new acquaint—friend. "Remus, this is Regulus. Regulus, meet my brother Remus."
The two boys exchanged nods, sizing each other up. Remus' eyes lingered on Regulus's elegant but somewhat old-fashioned attire, and Regulus couldn't help but feel a subtle tension in the air.
"Dad's waiting for us. We need to go," Ron said, glancing at his wristwatch.
Hermione sighed. "Alright. Regulus, it was nice meeting you. Read the book and maybe I'll see you around."
"Not maybe. Definitely," Regulus replied with a confident smile, already looking forward to their next encounter.
Sirius raised an eyebrow, watching his brother return. "What took you so long? Are you…Is that a smile I see?"
"Just because you don't like reading and get easily bored, doesn't mean the rest can't take our time. Plus, I may have made a new acquaint—friend.", Regulus corrected himself
Sirius nudged his brother with his elbow. "Merlin's balls, my brother using common language. Who do I have to thank for that?"
Regulus smirked, "Wouldn't you like to know, big brother?"
Sirius howled with laughter. "Look at that, my baby brother teasing me. We have to come here more often. Gatekeeping aside, when are you going to tell Mother that you've been to a Muggle-born-friendly establishment?"
Regulus chuckled nervously. "I might keep that information to myself for now. But I wouldn't mind coming back"
From the corner of his eye he saw Hermione and Remus heading towards the exit, and as he toasted with his brother he realized that Pride and Prejudice wasn't the only interesting thing he found that day.