Chapter 1: Prologue
Chapter Text
What if He takes His place in history
With all the prophets and the kings
Who taught us love and came in peace
But then the story ends, what then
-Prince
***
Godric’s Hollow was beautiful once. The landmark of his family’s ancestry and name, where his great-great-great ad infinitum whatever settled away from London where people like him—wizard, brown-skinned, different — left alone to their own devices. Long before Hogwarts was even an idea.
His parents would take him here sometimes, to visit in the winter months where the snow was crisp and clean, and they didn’t have to hide or pretend to be muggles. And his father could work his potions and his mother could visit with the neighbours and James could play outside wherever he wanted.
He never expected the little cottage to be so oppressive. To be a sign of the coming end. The prophesy loomed over them, like the Sword of Damocles, ready to destroy everything he’d worked for. The love of his life, his world, the Order. All of it.
James took in a shaking breath and pressed his forehead to the glass, leaving a foggy imprint. He could hear Lily and Harry in the kitchen, Lily mixing up something, Harry babbling away his baby nonsense—a mixture of English and Tamil which he’d sort of adopted as his present method of communication. Most of it made no sense in any language, but the sweetness of his innocence, of his development, took the edge off things.
Even if Harry’s existence alone was terrifying. Not just because of who was after him, but the very idea that James, at the tender age of twenty-one, had managed to create life inside of Lily. He thought back to the arrogant little shit boarding the Hogwarts Express for the first time. He thought of the little toe-rag ruffling his hair and trying to goad Evans into a date at Hogsmeade, and never did those children think he’d be here right now, raising his own.
James didn’t even dare to think about Harry’s first day at Hogwarts, because right now there was no guarantee Hogwarts would exist by the time all of this was through. It would end with either Voldemort’s death, or the death of his son, and James couldn’t even begin to contemplate the latter. Maybe that was unwise, unsafe, because the best fighter looked at the situation from all angles. Like a chess board, he had to think ten moves ahead, he had to see every scenario.
But he’d never really been good at chess. That had been Sirius’ thing. Sirius, who was…
James couldn’t begin to know where. They’d gotten a single owl from him with Harry’s birthday present last time they’d spoken. And only before that when they’d swapped secret keepers because Sirius had been so afraid.
James hadn’t wanted to do it, hadn’t been sure Peter was the best idea but Sirius was dead-set and James took one look at his haunted eyes and refused to say no. Lily had been more terrified than James had ever seen her as they watched Peter apparate away. They closed the door to the cottage and knew that until this was over, they wouldn’t be opening it again.
James pushed himself away from the window, hoping to leave at least a piece of his fear to sit in the sill without him. He wanted to carry a smile into the kitchen as he kissed his wife and his son. So many people were dead, so many more dying, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Even a jaunt outside was out of the question, and Dumbledore had his cloak, so he was well and truly trapped.
The full moon had been three nights before, and Lily had come downstairs to find him watching it from the window, crying silently knowing Moony was out there—somewhere, alone.
“Hey, love,” he murmured, coming up behind her. He wrapped his arm loosely round her belly, feeling over-protective of the life growing inside of her. They’d only just found out, and James couldn’t even begin to process what this might mean because in all reality, they could be trapped here for years.
This was no way for his children to grow up.
“Appa!” Harry cried.
James kissed the side of Lily’s neck, taking one full extra second to let himself feel everything before pushing it aside and turning to his son with a grin. “Did you eat all your veg?” he demanded, pointing to the small tray with what looked like the remnants of mashed up carrots and potatoes. He was fairly sure they hadn’t started out that way.
Harry grinned up at him, toothy and sweet, smacking his spoon on the edge of the tray. “Appaaaaa,” he said, then dropped his spoon and made grabby hands at James.
James couldn’t have resisted if he’d wanted to. Not for a moment. Not those sweet, round cheeks, and those wide, imploring eyes with Lily’s colour staring straight at him. His hands hooked under Harry’s arms, and he swung him wide, spinning him and delighting in the soft, sweet baby giggle.
“Fwy me appa, fwy!”
James zoomed him like a broom, through the kitchen, then into the lounge where they plonked onto the floor in front of the sofa. Harry rolled onto his back, his chubby legs sticking in the air as he giggled, and James darted forward to tickle his sides until Harry rolled away and shouted, “Okay all done!”
James relented, and when Harry toddled to the coffee table for his wand, James snatched it from his hand and made a rainbow shower of colour fall over the boy’s head. Harry laughed, falling onto his behind, kicking his feet a little as the puffs of colour hit the ground, then disappeared.
“Again, again!”
James did it again, and Harry laughed. He glanced up to see Lily stood in the door way, her hand cupped over the small of her stomach which hadn’t yet begun to swell. But he knew his next child was in there, counting on them to stay strong, to stay alive, to cup their hands round the flickering flame of new life and see it into this world a formed child which would be loved and cared for as much as any two parents possibly could.
James sighed and pulled Harry close, between his legs and let the boy play with a few smoke animals he conjured.
“I think it’ll be an early night for me,” Lily confessed. She walked into the room, sitting on the edge of the armchair. She looked a little peaky, her freckles standing out more than usual which was a sure sign of early pregnancy nausea. “I’m shattered and I didn’t even do anything today.”
“You looked after this one,” James said, giving Harry another tickle. “That’s like finishing the tri-wizard tournament in a single go, babe.”
Lily snorted. “Sure.”
“And anyway…”
In years to come, when James would recount this moment, he wasn’t ever sure what he was going to say. He was just babbling. And the words died on his tongue as suddenly the air shifted. It was almost like a storm, the way the pressure in the room made their ears pop, and the door flung open, letting a heavy bout of wet wind cascade through the lounge.
James was on his feet, Harry curled protectively in his arms, Lily behind him reaching for her wand.
James expected one man—more a creature than a human. In a way, he’d been expecting him the entire time. He turned, shoving Harry into Lily’s arms. “Lily, it’s him. Take Harry and run. I’ll hold him off.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Lily screamed over another burst of wind. “James, I’m not…”
“Lily,” he begged.
“Potter.”
James turned at a voice he’d thought long-dead. Strangled, barely-there, but audible above the howling wind. A wizard James didn’t think he’d see ever again, stumbling into the room with burnt, torn robes and a massive gash across his cheek, his throat nothing more than purple scars.
“Regulus?” The name tumbled from James’ lips before he could stop himself. And it was him—Regulus Black. His hair a tangled mess, and his eyes wide and haunted. But it was him. James would never forget his face.
“You have to go. Pettigrew gave you up.”
It was only at the mention of Peter’s name did James recall that they were there in secret, that no one—no one—could have known unless.
“Pettigrew gave you up, and he’s on his way. You have to run. Now,” Regulus hissed. He rushed forward then, and pushed a parcel into James’ hand. “And give this to Dumbledore. If you want anyone to survive this, it must reach him.”
James wasted no time in grabbing Lily’s arm, and apparating out of the cottage.
Chapter 2: Chapter One
Chapter Text
But what if you're wrong
What if there's more
What if there's hope
You never dreamed of hoping for
What if you jump?
-Prince
***
James was pacing, his hand in his hair, his entire face hot with a flush as he tried to contemplate what had just happened. He was at an Order safehouse only a few knew about—most of them trusted, though right now James felt naked and exposed. Albus had gone to Godric’s Hollow and found the cottage destroyed—likely in a fit of rage when Voldemort had arrived to find the Potters having thwarted him a fourth time.
James still didn’t know what had been in the parcel, but when Albus had unfolded it and stared, something rose in his eyes the likes of which James hadn’t seen in…well. Possibly ever. Victory, it looked like, and determination. But that meant nothing if they couldn’t survive—if they couldn’t trust…
“They must have tortured him,” James said for the fifth time.
Marlene, who was lounging on the sofa nursing a vicious wound they had been previously told had killed her, rolled her eyes. “You can’t torture information out of a secret keeper, Potter. You know this.”
Lily, who hadn’t left Marlene’s side since learning she wasn’t, in fact, dead, glanced up from her best friend’s side. They were both wrecked by the knowledge that Peter had…that he’d…
Well. James wasn’t ready to admit it yet. Not Peter. Not any of his friends.
“James,” she said, very quietly.
James shook his head almost violently, then turned to Albus who was staring at the fire, stroking his beard in thought. “We have to do something. Locking us up like that didn’t work. He’s going to find a way to get to us—to get to Harry. Albus, I can’t sit round and not fight. Not again.”
“James,” Lily plead from behind him, but for the moment, he ignored her. He had no choice.
Albus looked over slowly, his eyes still far-off, but he was nodding. “Yes I think…” He licked his lips. “If I am correct, then yes. You must fight. It’s the only way.”
James felt a surge of triumph, which was quickly turned into grief as he realised what this might mean. More would die. It wasn’t over. Whatever Black had given Albus wasn’t a weapon—it was information. They were still fighting. “What do you want me to do?”
“Send a letter to Black,” Dumbledore said, then shook his head quickly. “Sirius, I mean. I was…I didn’t trust him, and I was wrong. There was one amongst you. I knew there was and I was…I misjudged,” he said quietly.
James shook his head. “We don’t know for sure…”
“James,” Lily said, her voice just short of hysterical now, and she was on her feet, pulling her hand out of Marlene’s grasp. She walked across the floor, taking his face between her palms, and her eyes demanded his attention without question. “It’ll take time for you to get over it, I realise that. I’m not an idiot. But Peter did this to us, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you’ll be ready to fight. He’s still out there—he knows where you’re weakest. If you don’t accept what he did then…” She swallowed thickly and let her hands fall to his shoulders. “Then you’re as good as dead where you stand.”
James shuddered all over, then took a step back, though he didn’t dislodge her hands. His eyes flickered to her belly, still flat, still cradling their unborn child. He had loved Peter the same way he had loved this baby, the way he’d loved Lily, and Harry, and his parents. But loving him didn’t mean he couldn’t accept that he’d been wrong, that whatever had happened to Peter, he’d made this choice.
His breath shook as he expelled all the air from his lungs. He took Lily’s hands in his, then kissed her palms, slow and lingering, before letting them fall between them. He turned to Albus and nodded. “I’ll send for Sirius. I have a better way to reach him than an owl. More secure. And I’ll…I’ll get him here. And we’ll be ready to fight.”
Albus said nothing, but he nodded to James and watched as James turned on his heel, and marched out of the room.
***
It took a full hour before Sirius answered the mirror. James knew he had it on him—neither of them travelled without, even if they couldn’t use them. So Sirius was making a choice to ignore him, and James wasn’t going to let that happen.
It was blistering-hot by the time Sirius picked up, and his face was torn, cheeks filthy with tear-tracks, eyes wild. “You’re alive,” he said.
“You didn’t think some poncy Dark Lord was going to take me out, did you?” James asked.
There was a long moment where he wasn’t sure Sirius was going to laugh, or cry, or scream, or curse something. Then he said simply, “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
James closed his eyes slowly, then opened them. “There’s time for that later. I need you here now. Albus has something for us.”
“Albus,” Sirius spat. “That old fool hasn’t done anything except get people murdered and sent off to werewolf camps and…”
The last bit shook James, but he didn’t have time to ask. “Marlene’s here,” he said, and he saw that got Sirius’ attention. “She’s alive. Injured. But he’s got something. I can’t explain it over the mirror. Can you get here? I’ll spell you the co-ordinates.”
Sirius took a few more shaking breaths, then nodded. “Alright. I’ll be there. I’m…I’m probably not far. I just got on the bike an hour ago, when I realised the spell was broken. I went to Peter’s. He’s not here. He’s…I realised when all this things were gone that he…” His voice cracked as he trailed off.
James licked his lips, then said, “Hurry home, Padfoot. I need you.”
The mirror went dark, then James sent the information Sirius needed, and paced the small room until the crack sounded as Sirius was let through the wards, and tumbled into the room. There was a heavy, tense pause before Sirius got up, and then James’ arms were full of his best friend.
Neither of them cried. Not now. Not yet. Not until it was over and they could afford to mourn for as long as they needed to over those they’d loved and lost. For now, they had to become what the war made them. It was the only way to win.
***
“A horcrux,” Sirius murmured, staring at the locket dangling in mid-air at the end of Dumbledore’s spell. “It makes sense. It’s…horrifying, but it makes sense.”
“And seven. You think…you really think…” James began.
“Yes,” Albus said, his tone short but not curt. “Seven. I’m fairly certain what he used. The matter simply becomes finding them. This one, I believe, would have been the most difficult to find. The rest, well…”
James sighed. “Do we have the means to destroy them?”
“At least one of the means lies within your vault, Mr Potter. The Sword of Gryffindor. It can absorb certain types of magic, and I believe I know what to do. If you would entrust me with it…”
James glanced over at Sirius who gave him a vague shrug. Sirius was still not pleased with the situation. He’d learnt where Remus had gone—was currently beating himself up for not trusting their best friend—the only other one left amongst them. Sirius was acting angry, but James knew it was borne of guilt, of loss and hurt because once upon a time Sirius and Remus had been just like him and Lily. Foolish, young, in love.
Now, well…
“Of course,” James said, interrupting his own thoughts. “It’s really just a matter of getting to it without being noticed. If Voldemort knows it’s in there, knows Lily and I have gone missing, he’s likely having it watched.”
“That is where your cloak comes in, and possibly relying on some old tricks from your school days.”
James hadn’t smiled in what felt like years, but this time when he looked over at Sirius, it seemed neither of them could hide their grins.
***
In the end it was simpler than it should have been, though James didn’t really know up from down these days. The Wizarding World was still being pummelled by the Death Eaters, and the Ministry had been compromised. Witches and Wizards were fleeing across the pond, and only those the world called brave or stupid, remained behind so they could fight.
It would have been a miracle to accomplish the task in days, and as it was, it took nearly a year before Albus arrived—bloodied and exhausted, but triumphant.
Lily was cradling their new daughter in her arms, and Harry was playing with his enchanted train sets, and all over Britain, stars fell from the sky in celebration. The Dark Lord had fallen.
It was the night Sirius stepped out with his hand in Remus’, a vow made that they would never let the world come between them. And it was the night James bundled his daughter and his son, and took his wife by the arm, and returned to their home knowing they would be safe.
Death Eaters and sympathisers still remained all over Britain, but they would be tracked down. Voldemort’s body had been seized, though James didn’t want to know what for. The remnants of the horcruxes were taken by the Ministry, and James was offered the post of Head Auror—something he said he wanted to think on.
Peter had been captured, now sat in a cell in Azkaban, and James tried not to think of him much, though the first, quiet night in their new flat it was difficult. Ashima had been asleep for hours, but Harry had only just gone down after four stories and a light show.
When James found Lily, she was stood at the window overlooking London, her arms tucked tightly round her middle. She leant back into his arms when James hooked his chin over her shoulder, and she smiled when he placed a soft kiss against the side of her neck.
“What do we do now?” she asked quietly.
“We live,” he said, and kissed her again.
She scoffed, elbowing him gently, though she didn’t dislodge his hold on her. “You know that’s not what I meant, you prat. I just…where do we go from here? We’ve been doing nothing apart from surviving for so damn long. So…what now?”
James closed his eyes. He had some idea—he’d been obsessively thinking about it every time they found a new horcrux, every time they sliced Gryffindor’s blade through it. “You’ll get back to what you love most. Maybe become a Potion’s Master,” he murmured.
She laughed. “Oh yes? And do what?”
“Anything you want,” he said, squeezing her gently. “Anything at all.”
“And you? Plan to strut round like a peacock in your Head Auror robes?” she teased.
James laughed, kissing her again, unable to stop himself from it. “Co-head. Sirius would murder you if he thought you were belittling his own position.”
“Of course,” she said with a tiny giggle.
“There’s something else, though.” He felt her stiffen at the tone of his voice, and he didn’t blame her. But he’d also been thinking about this so much it had begun to invade his dreams. And now was his chance. “I want to find Regulus.”
Lily blinked, then carefully turned in his arms. “Regulus Black,” she echoed. “The Death Eater?”
“Yes,” James said.
She took a beat, then said, “He saved our lives, James. I’m not saying we should let him go, but you know what they’ll do to him if they find him. You know what…”
“I don’t want to find him to turn him in, Lils,” he said, and she went immediately quiet. James released his hold on her, and dragged his fingers through his hair as he took a few steps back. “He saved us, and I…I know it wasn’t because of a momentary lapse of judgement. He was a child when he was recruited. Barely sixteen, and his parents…” James’ voice went hard, the way it always did when he talked about Walburga and Orion. He breathed through it. “He didn’t know better, and I want to offer him a way out.”
“James,” she said, her voice very soft, but firm and considering. “Whatever’s happened to him, I can only hope he’s safe. But he also stole a horcrux from Voldemort. If he was found out, there’s no way he survived it.”
“I know,” James said, very soft. “I know but…I need to try.”
“And if you do find him?” she said. “Then what? The ministry isn’t going to let him just walk. They’re not going to…”
“He provided us the only way to kill the Dark Lord,” James argued. “He saved our lives, he saved the country, by that single gesture. He knew what he was doing, and if he’s alive—if he’s alright—the Ministry will listen to me.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” she said, and then after a long, long moment, “but if you want to try…”
“It’s more than a want, Lily. I know it might sound mad to you, I know you don’t always understand what goes on in my head…”
“I don’t,” she agreed, then reached out, her palm to his cheek and stroked his cheekbone with her thumb. “But I know that you love more fiercely and more powerfully than anyone I’ve ever met. And if it’s important to you, I’m not going to stop you. But you promise me that you’ll be careful. I didn’t live through all of that, I didn’t go through all of it, keep our children safe, only to lose you now.”
He grabbed her by the arm, tugging her in, pulling her wrist to his mouth to lay a hot, sweet kiss there. He tipped her chin up with his fingers then, and pressed his mouth to her own. Her lips parted for him, a gentle sweep of tongue, and she caught his quiet moan in her mouth before he pulled away. “I swear to you. I have…I have some leads. Sirius and I both…”
“I should have known,” she murmured, but she was smiling.
“I trust you, Jamie. Just come home to me, okay?”
“I swear it,” he said, then kissed her once more for good measure.
***
Six months went by. Then eight. Then a year. James went to work every day, followed every lead, watched his family grow, ran with Moony on the full moons. So little had changed. James thought about Peter every so often, but as the days ran into weeks, which ran into months, he began to fade. He became a memory, an idea.
It was only the fierce intensity of the night Regulus showed up in Godric’s Hollow that kept Regulus from the same fate. That kept him fresh in James’ mind, kept him searching every small clue.
“He’s probably dead,” Sirius said, staring at James over the rim of his pint. They were in a muggle pub, mostly to avoid being stared at by other witches and wizards who still weren’t over the war yet. There was faint music playing in the background, and the low din of chatter from the end of work day crowd trying to get in five minutes of relaxing before they went home to demanding children and tired spouses.
James let Sirius’ words hit him, let himself feel it—the possibility—before shaking his head. “For whatever reason, I don’t think so.”
Sirius snorted a laugh, shrugging as he sat back and kicked one of his motorbike boots onto the tall barstool next to him. “Mate, I don’t know why you want to…” He stopped when James gave him a flat look. “Okay, I do know why you want to, but I think this is pointless. Even if we do find him, there’s every chance that him helping you was the lapse in judgement, not the other way round.”
James blew out a puff of air. “Maybe if I’d…” He closed his eyes and thought back to the very small, very pale boy stood in the foyer of Grimmauld Place staring at him with stormy eyes and a tense jaw. He’d trailed Sirius like a shadow the week James had stayed, and James had been annoyed because he was tired of sharing his best friend’s attention. James had been jealous, worried that when Regulus came to school a few years later, James would lose Sirius’ attention even then.
He didn’t know, nor had he ever asked, what had changed between first and third year. Regulus had been poised to follow exactly in Sirius’ footsteps.
And then he just…hadn’t. Then he’d been sorted into Slytherin and had spent the rest of his years trying to make Sirius’ life miserable.
After Sirius ran away, they didn’t speak about Regulus, didn’t look at him, didn’t acknowledge he existed. James’ sole interactions with him had been as prefect, then as Head Boy, and by then…oh by then, he was almost lost to them. But there had been a time it was almost not that way. If James’d gotten his head out of his arse and tried for someone other than Sirius.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Sirius said, kicking James under the table, “and no. There’s no sense in beating yourself up over anything because it wouldn’t have made a difference. He was soft.”
“So,” James said. “We’re all a bit soft, Pads. In different ways.”
“Not like him. Not like Pe…” Sirius choked on the word, then cleared his throat, his face going stony as he forced himself to say it. “Not like Peter. And look what happened to him.”
James breathed out, then said, “Only look who made the right choice at the end. If he thinks he’s got something else waiting for him besides rotting in a cell in Azkaban, maybe he’ll…”
“What?” Sirius challenged. “Maybe he’ll what? Run to you with open arms. Get on his knees and say how sorry he was for joining up with a sodding blood purist who wanted to wipe muggles and muggle borns off the planet? Say he regrets every murder he ever committed in the name of that…”
“You don’t know that he murdered anyone,” James said, but he could hear the doubt in his own voice because he knew Death Eaters. He knew what they had all done to get there.
Sirius scoffed, then reached into his pocket and slapped a fiver on the table. “I’m going to go. Moony was poorly and I promised I wouldn’t stay out too late.”
James nodded, then took out his own cash and left it next to Sirius’. “Tell him hi for me. Give him a big, slobbery kiss and tell him I’m pining for him. Come by this weekend, maybe?”
Sirius grinned, in his dogish, lopsided way and slung his arm round James’ shoulder. “Look mate, I’m not giving up. I’m not ready to give up. Somewhere in my blackened, shrivelled heart, there’s still a spot for him, okay? But I’m just trying to be realistic, and at some point we’re going to have to let it go.”
“I know,” James said as they stepped outside. “I’m just not ready yet, either.”
“Good,” Sirius replied. Then he threw James a wink, strolled to his motorbike, and in a roar of noise, was gone.
James stood only a moment to make sure no one was watching, then turned on the spot and disappeared with a loud crack.
***
And so it went, another four months. Ashima’s birthday came and went. And then Harry’s. Their leads became sparse and absurd, and it was just after the full moon in September James realised he hadn’t thought about Regulus in a month.
It hurt something deep in his chest to realise he was letting go, but what else could he do? If he survived, he was long gone, and James wasn’t going to continue to live his life with one foot out the door in hopes that the man who had used what might have been his last breath to save him, was still waiting to be rescued.
Maybe Sirius was right. Maybe what he’d given to James had been the lapse in judgement. Maybe Regulus spent what was left of his miserable existence regretting ever having set foot in Godric’s Hollow.
James thought maybe he should just take it for the miracle it was. He could be dead now, and he wasn’t.
That would have to be enough.
***
So it was, in the end, a bit of a surprise when James saw him.
Muggle London, in the middle of a freakishly thick wave of fog. James was meandering round some bookshops trying to find a few gifts for Lily when he saw him. He was just…there, across the street, staring at James like it was the most normal thing in the world.
James blinked, and then the figure turned and started walking away.
In a sort of blind panic, James took off after him, a hundred thousand things running through his head. Maybe it wasn’t him, maybe he was wrong, maybe it was a trap, maybe he was about to walk into his death.
Regulus was keeping a slow pace, but he was far enough ahead James couldn’t catch him up before Regulus ducked into what looked like an old, abandoned building. He came to a skidding halt out front of it, and he could feel the magic—the muggle-repelling charms, the wards, all of it. He reached into his back pocket and took his wand out, not bothering to check round to see if there was anyone to notice what he was doing.
He cast an immediate alert for back-up. Whatever he found in there, he was sure Regulus wasn’t alone.
James touched the door handle as he heard several cracks of apparition nearby. When he knew he wasn’t alone, he went in.
In truth, James expected it to be more of a fight than it really was. A handful of missing Death Eaters they’d been looking for, for quite some time now. The Lestrange brothers, and Sirius’ cousin, Bellatrix. A few he didn’t recognise.
The one who brought him the most shock was Crouch’s son, spitting like an angry cat and casting vicious curses at them as they tried to subdue him. It was a fight, but not much of one, and it wasn’t long before they were all bound in custody.
Regulus had been the only one who didn’t raise a wand. He merely stood in the corner of the room, watching with almost dead eyes. The only reaction he gave was when Kingsley took Crouch out with a particularly vicious spell. Regulus had winced, and pressed himself flat against the wall almost like he was expecting some retaliation.
When it didn’t come, his arms sagged back to his sides and he continued to just stare.
James felt something strange, uncomfortable, twisting in his gut as he stepped forward.
“Potter,” Kingsley warned.
James held up his hand to show he still had his wand at the ready, and the auror backed off as James took a few steps forward. “Regulus,” he said.
Regulus looked over. Said nothing.
“You have to come with me. Please don’t resist, okay? Sirius and I…we’ve a plan, you won’t be sent to Azkaban. Or at least,” he amended, because he was fairly sure Regulus might be forced to spend some time there, “not that long. Okay?”
Regulus continued to say nothing, but he held his hands and allowed James to conjure a rope round them. He submitted to the search with pliant limbs, put up no fight when James seized his wand, or when James pulled him close and disapparated to the Ministry.
***
Sirius arrived just as Regulus was taken for processing. Each of the prisoners were to be questioned, then sent to Azkaban until their trial. It would take a few weeks at the very least, which was exactly the amount of time James was going to need to work his plan.
Which, in all reality, wasn’t entirely formed just yet. But James was nothing if not good at bullshitting his way through into getting what he wanted.
“They won’t let me see him,” was the first thing Sirius said after cornering James in his office. “They took him already.”
James nodded, his face drawn and tired. “They wouldn’t let me question him, either. I brought him in but…” He took a breath, sinking into his chair and scrubbing a hand down his face. The action dislodged his glasses which fell to the ground, and he ignored them, instead staring at the blurry blob which was now Sirius. “He wasn’t himself. Padfoot I’ve never…” He chose his words carefully. “I don’t know if it was Imperius, or some other sort of curse, or trauma, but I’ve never seen him look so dead inside.”
Sirius made a strangled noise, and sat opposite James. “Azkaban isn’t going to make that better.”
“Which is why I’ve got a meeting with Fudge later. He’s got enough authority right now to release Regulus to my care and…”
“Your care,” Sirius said, then laughed. “Jamie, what the bloody hell are you talking about? Your care?”
“What did you think was going to happen to him?” James demanded. “Sirius, you can’t have him around Moony, not without knowing…it’s…just not safe.”
“And it’s safer at yours? To have a known Death Eater under the same roof as your children? What’s Lily got to say about all this?”
The truth of it was, he hadn’t spoken to her about what was going to happen after he got Regulus back, and he didn’t think she was going to accept the idea with open arms. At least, not straight away.
“We don’t really have a choice in the matter, you know,” James pointed out. “I mean, amma and appa’s cottage was put back together so there’s that if we need somewhere outside of London. But I don’t think he’s going to try and kill us.”
Sirius scoffed. “Oh really?”
“He had plenty of chance,” James argued. “When Peter sold us out, Regulus could have sat back and watched. He could have kept the horcruxes secret, could have just let the world fall under the rule of that maniac. Instead he risked life and limb and maybe even his mind to save us. Not just Lils, Harry, and me. Everyone, Padfoot. Even you and Moony.”
Sirius was uncharacteristically quiet, then he said, “I think it’s a mad idea and I think Lily’s going to laugh in your face, even if you can get Fudge to agree, which will be a miracle in itself. But…”
“But,” James pressed.
“But he’s my brother and I don’t want him rotting away in that place, either. Peter deserves to be there. Not Regulus.”
James felt his shoulders deflate, and with a flick of his fingers, he summoned his glasses and shoved them back on his face. He was right when he’d assumed Sirius did not look pleased about the whole thing, but at least he was on James’ side. “It’s all I’ve got, Padfoot. And I think, in the end, Lily’s going to see reason.”
***
Lily was not as understanding as James thought she might be. The night before his meeting with Fudge, he found her on the sofa, her knees curled into her chest, a frown on her face. James eased himself down near her, close enough to touch, but it was clear by the look on her face, the gesture might not be entirely welcome.
“Lils.”
She let out a tiny sigh, looking up at him. “I want to trust you,” she said quietly. “And I do, most of the time. But I know you, James. I know that sometimes your…sometimes your heart is bigger than your reason.”
He flinched, because he knew what she was referring to. “That’s not fair,” he said, trying to keep his composure. It had been a long time since the war, but the wounds all still felt fresh, and he wasn’t sure it wasn’t going to stop hurting when Peter was mentioned. “He never showed a moment of…there was never any signs he…” James stopped himself, his emotions clouding his ability to form words.
Lily, for her part, looked apologetic, and she reached out, letting their fingers tangle together loosely between them. “I know you wouldn’t put me or the kids at risk. I know this. I know if you weren’t completely certain he doesn’t pose any danger to any of us…”
“I realise I sound like an idiot, mostly going on gut feeling here, but I just…” He pushed two fingers under his glasses and scrubbed at his left eye, then let his head flop down against the back cushion. “I choose you,” he said after a long pause. “You, Harry, Ash. I choose the three of you, and if you really have reservations about this, I won’t go tomorrow. I’ll let the ministry sort it out however they choose.”
She let her thumb run over his knuckles. “I don’t know,” she said, and when he tensed, she amended, “I don’t know if I trust him, if I think you’re right. But I also know that he saved us—and he saved the world, but selfishly I mostly care about how he saved you, Harry, our unborn daughter, and me. And because of that I don’t think I could live with myself if we let him rot away under the Dementors.”
James felt his breath leave him in a huge rush, and he glanced at her carefully. “We won’t be unprotected with him here. And right now I just have to believe that after all this, some good came out of the war. And that he’s not going to suffer for what he did.”
“Sirius isn’t really on your side, you know,” she pointed out.
James laughed. “When is he ever? But he’ll go along with me, and he’ll come round.”
“He’s going to hold a grudge until the day he dies,” she said.
James laughed again, and tugged and tugged until she was across the sofa and on his lap, his arms tight round her middle, face buried in the crook of his neck. “Yes, he is. But he’s got about a dozen against me, a dozen more against Moony. He still hasn’t forgiven you for that charm on his hair in third year. And apart from all that he still loves us harder than any other person could love us. The same will go for Regulus. I think.”
There was no guarantees, and James was willing to admit that. But he also wasn’t going to let himself give up. Not yet. Not without giving it all he had.
Chapter 3: Chapter Two
Notes:
I'm updating early just...because.
I want to say a blanket thank you to all the comments--things have been mad (I've had two huge research papers due and grad school has it out for me, I swear) but I'll try to reply to them asap. Just know I read them and I love them and they give me such motivation to keep writing.
As I told Serra (mxlfoydraco) my amazing saltmate today-- going back to Jegulily is like sinking into a warm, lush bath. This ship will always be It for me. Anyway, I have quite a bit of this written, so though I'm trying to space out the chapters a little, I'll update when I can. <3
Chapter Text
Just close your eyes
What if the arms that catch you
Catch you by surprise?
What if He's more than enough?
What if it's love?
-Prince
***
In the end, it was Albus who stepped in. Albus, who had been holed up at Hogwarts taking a sabbatical from obligations to the wizarding world as a whole. Fudge was trying to put his foot down, but Albus had even more sway with the Ministry since the end of the war, and he showed up without prompting to vouch for Regulus Black.
“I think a man like Regulus Black earnt himself a second chance. After all, we wouldn’t be here today, Mr Fudge, if he hadn’t handed us the keys to ending this war.”
Fudge put up a small fight, but in the end the Wizengamot ruled in James’ favour.
Regulus was brought in, floating chained to a chair, but the Dementors that were surrounding him were dispatched back to Azkaban, and Regulus looked both exhausted and confused when he was released, and given over to James.
He was frail, too-thin, James noticed as he clutched Regulus’ arm. His robes smelt of rot, and his fingers were trembling. They took one of the office floos to his parents’ old country home in Leeds which he’d aired out and prepared for this moment. Lily and the kids would be by later, once James sent word it was safe.
And when Sirius was done with his own strop, he’d probably come and say hello.
But for now, it was just him and Regulus. As James stared into the younger man’s dead eyes, however, he wondered how much success he really was going to have.
“We should get you something to eat,” James said, perfectly aware of what they were given in Azkaban. A fortnight was nowhere near an eternity, or a lifetime sentence most of the former Death Eaters had been given, but it was enough. It was enough for James to worry that too much damage was done. Especially as he had no idea what Regulus had been through before they’d been captured.
He took his hand off Regulus’ arm, but the second he did, he saw Regs’ knees give out, and grabbed him just in time. With slow, deliberate steps, the pair of them made their way into the kitchen, and James conjured a chair and had him sit whilst surveying what they had.
It wasn’t much—Lily had stocked the essentials—so biscuits and tea it was. He got the kettle heating with the tip of his wand, and managed to find bags and mugs in one of the cabinets.
“Do you take anything in yours?” James asked.
Again, Regulus did little more than stare.
He left the tea black, but chose the chocolate biscuits, and watched carefully as Regulus ate and drank mechanically. He didn’t meet James’ eyes, but there was something in his face, a flushing of colour that told James he wasn’t catatonic. There was something going on there.
“Listen, I know this has been…” James stopped himself. “Actually, I can’t say I know what you’ve been through, because I don’t. I didn’t want any of that, in fact, but you showed up at my house, handed me the solution to ending the war, and then you disappeared. After that, you were missing for years, and I don’t…” He stopped again, dragging one hand through his hair, ruffling it until bits were sticking up at the back. “I don’t want you to go back to that place, Regs. I’m doing what I can, but you have to work with me.”
Regulus chewed, swallowed the biscuit, took a sip of tea, then finally, finally met James’ eyes. “I’d like a bath.”
James froze, almost afraid to say a word like it might startle this little bit of progress he’d just made. “A bath. Yes. I can…we can do that. Of course we can…” He calmed himself. “Upstairs,” he finally said.
Regulus nodded, then didn’t meet his gaze as he said, “I believe I’m going to need some help.”
***
Regulus was weak—underfed and there were bruises on his pale skin looking like a sunset. Regulus clearly noticed James staring, but didn’t offer an explanation, and James didn’t want to cross any lines by asking. Not just yet.
Instead he filled the tub, keeping it a bit cooler than he might have liked, but Regulus was so thin he likely couldn’t tolerate much. James kept his gaze firmly on Regs’ face as he helped him into the water, then sat at the vanity as Regulus very carefully, very slowly, washed himself.
He didn’t linger, didn’t luxuriate in the warmth and cleanliness of the bathroom. He washed methodically, then with shaking legs rose and wrapped himself in a towel. James had already procured robes from Sirius, and Regulus gave him little more than a nod of thanks as he slipped them on, and pushed his hair out of his face. It was still clipped short, the way he’d worn it at school—the juxtaposition to Sirius’ long, wild locks—and it made him look younger still.
“You need proper food,” James said as they headed out of the bathroom. “I can cook, but you look like you’re about to collapse. Just promise me you won’t try and escape…”
James was cut off by a raspy, harsh laugh as Regulus met his gaze with an almost-glower. “Trust me, I can barely stand on my own. I’m not going anywhere.”
James bit his lip, knowing he was easily manipulated with pity. But he didn’t think anyone was this good an actor. Whatever Regulus had been through, it wasn’t just Azkaban. He was beaten, and drained. “Alright,” he said. “That first bedroom’s all made up for you. I’ll wake you up when I’ve got something ready to eat.”
Regulus pressed his palm to the wall, his thin fingers looking spidery and too-pale. He met James’ gaze once more, his jaw working a moment before he finally spoke. “Thank you,” he said, so soft James wasn’t entirely sure he heard it. Then he used his grip on the wall to ease him through the door, and it shut with a firm click.
Pushing back his desire to poke his head in and ensure Regulus had stayed, James forced himself downstairs and decided this would be the first test. If Regulus stayed—if he was still there, in the bed, when James came upstairs—then maybe they really had something to build on.
***
It wasn’t that James was completely pants in the kitchen—he wasn’t a gourmet chef either, but he could cobble together a few things—but the nerves were getting to him, and so far everything he’d done had burnt beyond recognition. He was missing Lily fiercely right then. Lily with the level head and calming presence who would know how to throw together a decent meal and get the conversation started. She’d find a way to pierce whatever armour Regulus had put up, and she’d get this whole process going.
But it wasn’t on her—not yet. Not right now. James had made a solemn promise to her that she, Harry, and Ash wouldn’t set foot under this roof until he was certain Regulus wasn’t about to raise a wand and murder them all in the name of the dead Dark Lord.
He took a breath, then started again on a pot of steamed veg and rice. They were fresh out of any sort of real seasoning, just a stale pot of garam masala that had been in there for who the hell knew how long. It didn’t smell like it had gone out of date—he wasn’t even sure spices could do that—so he added a pinch to the veg and tapped his foot, trying to will the food to cook faster. He supposed magic would speed things up, but Lily had showed him the joys of the muggle way—things, for whatever reason, tasted better—so he waited.
His patience would have a greater reward. He was pretty sure his mother had said that to him once.
He found himself missing his parents with a ferocity he hadn’t felt since the year they died. His parents, who had loved him beyond reason, would have known what to do. They’d pieced together Sirius, who had been shattered by the darkness of his family, and James knew his parents would have been able to do this—to put Regulus together in ways James didn’t think he was capable.
But he had to try, at least.
He owed his family, himself, and Regulus that much.
Loading up the tray of subpar food, James took it up to the landing, and paused outside the bedroom door. His stomach twisted in anticipation—just a hint of fear—that when he stepped inside, Regulus would be gone. His hand hovered near the knob, not sure if he should walk straight in or knock. Regulus wasn’t a prisoner, but James was responsible for him. He’d been dehumanised for weeks in Azkaban, so he at least deserved some basic human courtesy.
And yet, James felt the prickle of fear at the thought of knocking, and getting no reply.
“Stop being a twat about this,” he muttered at himself.
After a pause, “You can come in, Potter. I’m decent.”
James didn’t say that wasn’t what he had been worried about, and instead offered a sheepish smile as he stepped inside the room and levitated the tray toward the bed. “We don’t have much. Lils will bring stuff to stock up the house, but for now I just erm…” He trailed off, ruffling his hair with his free hand.
Regulus, for his part, rolled his eyes, looking very much like the young Slytherin James remembered, and he reached for the tray. He ate with the ferocity of a starved man, but stopped a few bites in, and James saw him go a bit pale round the edges.
“Are you…” It was all he managed to get out before Regulus dove at the small bin near the nightstand, and heaved up everything he’d just consumed. “Shit,” James whispered quietly, using his wand to banish the mess.
Regulus sat up, his face bright red with humiliation, the back of his hand pressed against his lips. “I…”
“I didn’t even think,” James said, gritting his teeth. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I knew you should…” He stopped, then stood up and banished the veg, leaving only the steamed rice behind. “Eat it slow. Your system will adjust soon enough.”
Regulus didn’t meet his gaze as he took the bowl and began to spoon small bites into his mouth. After a few minutes, when it was clear he was safe, he sat back and ate a little faster. “Happens to everyone?”
“I mean I don’t know from experience,” James said, giving a sort of nervous laugh. “I’ve seen a few prisoners released erm. From ah…from false testimony.”
Regulus gave him a careful look, then shrugged one shoulder and set the bowl down. “Potter.” The word was clipped, a little irritated, definitely far from the meek, traumatised prisoner James assumed he was. “Are you saying the testimony against me was false?”
“I’m…that’s not…” James fumbled. He sat down on the edge of the bed and squared his shoulders. Act like the fucking Gryffindor you used to be, you prat. You fought in a bloody war! “Your situation was unique, and I know you know the unique power you have over me.”
Regulus snorted. “You mean because if I fuck up, if you were completely wrong about me, your arse is the one on the line. And anything that hurts you, hurts your family. Your kids, your mudblo—erm. Your…muggle born wife…”
“You can just say wife,” James said irritably, and Regulus glanced away.
“Old habits die hard,” he muttered.
“Yes well, they still die, so maybe kill them faster. I can’t promise Lily’s not going to hex your bollocks off if you say, you know, that word in her presence.”
Regulus looked at him challengingly. “You can’t even say it. You never could. I remember from school.”
“Why would I?” James demanded. “Why would I ever say that, Black? Why do you? Obviously you saw something wrong it about it all, considering you…”
“Risked my life?” he spat. “Handed my fate into the hands of my enemy?”
“Did you?” James said. He felt triumphant in a way, though he wasn’t sure where this was going. But Regulus was angry, he was speaking to him. Whatever happened, he hadn’t become some hollowed-out shell of himself and that was…well. James could work with that. “Did you put your fate in your enemy’s hands, Black? Is that why we’re here.”
Regulus scoffed. “Don’t pretend you have love for me, Potter. I know you did this out of your ridiculous, misguided Gryffindor sense of morality and honour.”
“I happen to know that’s not really a Gryffindor trait. Not…not always,” he said, his voice trembling just a little.
Regulus huffed a bitter laugh. “Pettigrew, right. The hatstall because he should have landed himself in my house, only he managed to convince the sorting hat he had promise.”
James’ eyes narrowed. “He wasn’t always…”
“What? Opportunistic? Aspirations above his calibre?” Regulus said, shuffling so he was sat up more. “Potter, after everything, are you still trying to delude yourself into thinking Pettigrew would have ever made a different choice.”
“War turns men into monsters.”
“War brings out the truth,” Regulus said. “Snape chose his side early on, and don’t tell me there was a moment you were surprised, or a moment you thought that he had potential to be a better person.”
James’ jaw clamped shut, then he took a breath and said, “My feelings about him are biased.”
“But not incorrect,” Regulus said.
James took a moment, then said, “So where does that leave you?”
Regulus’ eyes went bright, challenging. “Where does that leave me, Potter? I mean, I know your wife and family won’t come here until you’re certain I won’t murder you in your beds, but the only thing you’ll ever have is my word and trust me, you don’t want to get that wrong.”
James rose, heat pooling in his gut because Regulus was smart, and clever, but he was too much like Sirius for his own good. He wore his heart on his sleeve—couldn’t help it. And right now, he was laid bare and exposed. “I’ll send for Lily tomorrow.”
“What?” Regulus’ tone was dry, without inflection. “Did you hear what I just said, Potter?”
“Yes,” James said, then started for the door. “I heard exactly what you said. I don’t know what it was that had you see the truth about…about him. About Voldemort,” he said it, a little meanly, to make Regulus flinch. He regretted it, however, when he saw Regulus’ hand clamp over his forearm. He bit his lip, then said, “Maybe you’ll never tell me why, but you were right. War exposes the truth about people, about who they are. It showed that Peter was never the person I thought he was. And it did the same for you. In the end, you chose your side. Why it took you so long to get caught, well…maybe I’ll never know that, either. But I believe in the reason you’re here.”
“And why’s that?” Regulus asked softly.
James offered a quiet, kind smile before opening the door and stepping out. “Because you were always meant to be.”
He closed the door with a quiet click, and made his way down to the parlour to write Lily a letter.
Chapter 4: Chapter Three
Notes:
I am currently on hiatus, however this fic is complete and it only needs a bit of read-through/editing, so I'll still be posting until it's finished.
Chapter Text
What if you dig
Way down deeper
Than your
Simple-minded friends
-Prince
***
“James,” Lily said, her eyes repeatedly darting toward the stairs. Regulus hadn’t come down yet, but his unobtrusive presence was loud in the cottage, and James understood her hesitation. Harry had already scarpered out back—wards with alarms had been set, but James tried to let himself relax about the idea of his son running in fields he used to play in as a child. Ash was dead asleep against Lily’s shoulder, and as she sighed for the fifth time, James reached out and plucked her out of her mother’s arms. “Are you sure…”
“I’ll never be a hundred percent,” James said as he gently bounced Ash until she settled back down. “I can use Veritaserum, but you of all people know how easy it is to build up a tolerance. I’m pants at Occlumency, and there’s not another way to dig into his head and see if he’s telling the truth.”
“And you think him being rude means he's-” she started.
“It wasn’t that he was rude, it was that he was honest. He might have made bad choices, and he might have spent a rather long time away from Sirius, but they’re still siblings, and he’s just as obvious about his intentions.”
“He managed to steal a horcrux right under the Dark Lord’s nose,” Lily argued. “He couldn’t be that obvious of a person.”
“And yet,” James said, “he was obvious with me. Just…look. Any sign of trouble, anything that’s got your gut twisting, and you and the kids are gone. No hesitation. I will…I will figure something else out.”
She softened, reaching out to brush her fingers through his hair. “If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have let you go through with this in the first place. You might be stubborn, Mr Potter, but I still know how to stop you from being stupid.”
He couldn’t help his grin, the rush of love spreading from his gut through the rest of his limbs. He shifted Ash to the side, then leant in and kissed Lily, soft, easy as any of their kisses had ever been. “We’ll call this a test. You go on to the shops, I’ll get Haz and Ash settled in, and then we’ll have tea and…you know…”
“Get to know each other,” she offered sardonically. “Can I make a drinking game out of how many times he almost slips up and calls me mudblood?”
James winced, but couldn’t help the barest quirk of his lips. “Fine. I could do with a nip of whiskey anyway.”
“None for you,” she said, backing up with an even bigger grin. “You’re on baby duty.”
Then she was gone, the crack of apparition startling Ash awake who blinked at James, doe-eyed and confused. “Appa,” she said.
“Hi my princess. Do you want to go outside and see where your brother is?”
Ash shoved her finger in James’ mouth in response.
***
During Lily’s trip to the shops, Regulus didn’t come down. In fact, there wasn’t sight of him all afternoon, and as Lily was setting tea on the table, James poked his head in to make sure he hadn’t finally given in to an instinct to flee.
“There’s food,” James said quietly to Regulus’ back. He was on his bed, hunched over, facing away from the door.
“I’m,” Regulus said, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. “I don’t think I can right now. Sorry.”
James frowned. “I’m not going to force you to eat but…you can’t hide up here the rest of your life.”
Regulus scoffed, then turned to face James. His face was splotchy, stained with tear-tracks, eyes dry but red. “Is this how it’s going to be, Potter? Babysat by Lord Gryffindor and his wife? Some day you trust me enough to leave the kids with me so the pair of you can go on dates, and it’s so domestic and sweet, but the truth hanging over our heads is that I’ll always, always have to answer to you?”
“That’s not…”
“Because if that’s the case, you might as well just off me now,” Regulus spat, his hands clenching into fists. “I was prepared to die, and that didn’t happen, and I went from one cage to another. This one might have finer dressings but…”
James stepped in, closing the door hard. “I’m not going to pretend like if you want to take a stroll down to the village shop and buy some candy floss, you can just do that. You won’t be getting your own London flat anytime soon, and you still haven’t got a wand. But it isn’t forever. I wouldn’t have agreed to that.”
“Liar,” Regulus said quietly, and James blinked owlishly. Regulus sighed, passing a hand down his face. “You would have, because the alternative would have been to rot away in Azkaban, or be given the kiss, and I know you think that being under your care for the rest of my life would have been a kinder fate. But it isn’t.” There was something in his tone, something speaking volumes that James didn’t understand, and he wanted to ask, but he knew better than that.
“Please come down for tea,” James said instead of anything else bubbling at the end of his tongue. “You don’t have to make conversation. Just…come and eat.”
“Not tonight,” Regulus said.
James bowed his head, breathing out, and eventually he backed up and stepped out the door.
In the kitchen, Lily quirked an eyebrow at him, and when James shook his head, she sighed and got to work mashing some potatoes and carrots for Ash to eat. Harry was already elbow-deep in his plate shaped like a giraffe filled with veg and rice, and James took a seat next to him, determined to make it all seem normal.
“Appa?” Harry asked as he pushed some of his peas round with his spoon. “Are you sad?”
James gave his son a quiet smile. “A little.”
“But um…but mummy says that I could be sad sometimes.”
“That’s true,” James said, leaning over to ruffle his hair. “And so can me and your mum.”
“Yeah. But maybe you could just…maybe have some pudding okay? And you could just share wiff me.”
James laughed. “Yeah, I think that sounds fair. Lils? Sound fair.”
She rolled her eyes, but smiled through it. “If I don’t see a single pea or carrot on that plate, I think a small pudding sounds very fair.”
Harry was quick to comply.
***
James was banishing the last of the dishes to the sink for a wash when Lily approached him. She had a plate in her hands, steam rising from a warming charm, and she pushed it at him. “At the very least, he needs to eat.”
James took it, and gave her a cautious smile. “I want to say it won’t be like this forever, but I don’t know. I don’t know what happened, what changed his mind, what he went through after but…”
She shook her head, cutting him off. “I saw some of the records, Jamie. The things Crouch and the Lestranges said. I don’t…” She bit her lip, her cheeks going faintly pale under her freckles. “I trust that he meant well, but they’re capable of a lot, James. And that’ll do a number on people. Crouch in particular was awful.”
James closed his eyes, nodding. He’d been there. He’d heard the whole testimony. He’d seen the look in Crouch’s eye. Had looked straight into the heart of a monster who lived without remorse. “I’d like to give him time.”
“So would I,” Lily said, and squeezed his wrists before taking a step back. “I’ll get the kids into their bath and for bed. After that I have a date with a bottle of wine, so you’re getting any midnight nightmares or feedings.”
“Done,” he said, and leant in, brushing his lips over her cheek. She leant into it for a moment, then stepped back and James looked down at the plate, then up at the stairs, then headed up.
***
Lily could hear James’ boisterous laugh booming over the giggles of her children in the back garden. She wasn’t entirely sure what they were up to, wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know. They’d been in the house a week—Regulus had joined them for exactly nine meals, which was something. He skilfully avoided the children, for which she was grateful in a way, because she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about the situation.
She and Black hadn’t interacted much in school. She was well aware of his group of friends—well aware of what they were getting up to, and where they were headed. She hadn’t put much faith in Black the Younger. And nothing about him had ever given her reason to. But there was something about him, the look on his face, the fire in his eyes when he appeared in Godric’s Hollow that night, that told her maybe James was right about this whole thing.
She loved her husband—it was almost impossible not to love James. He was like literal sunshine in the body of a drunken deer, and you wanted to be annoyed, even if you were constantly endeared by him. She loved it all though. The exuberant way he parented, the unrelenting faith he had in people, even when they’d broken his trust. His protective streak which was larger than the universe itself, and the way he never, ever gave up.
Which of course, was why they were here right now. She had a little sympathy for Black—who had always been on the shy side. Remus had been a bit like that at first as well. Not really shy, but uncertain. Of course it had taken her years to understand why Remus had resisted making any sort of friends, and then she understood Remus’ utter loyalty to them, even when they had colossally fucked up. Regulus was unused to the way James handled things, but he bore it all with the sort of grace that could only come from the uptight pureblood conditioning.
He sat pristine, with perfect manners at the dinner table. He used the right forks and said all the right things, and answered every single one of Harry’s childish questions with grace and the occasional smile. But she saw the fear and hesitance in his eyes, and that’s what gave her pause. Because she had seen first hand what fear could do to men who otherwise would have been good. And she would not risk her children to that.
Regulus hadn’t shown any other signs of anything, however. He kept his mark—which had faded into a twisted scar—hidden from view. He mostly wore muggle clothes with long sleeves, which was just fine as she was partial to jumpers and jeans herself. But there was nothing muggle about him, no exposure, no residual muggle habits left over from even casual curiosity, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he truly thought of her—how much of those old prejudices were left behind.
He was at the table when she came into the kitchen, nursing a cup of tea and glowering at a muffin James had insisted everyone try. They were passable—supposedly packed with protein or some rubbish. She knew he’d found the recipe in one of her gran’s old cookbooks and who was she to stop him from experimenting with muggle bakes?
She moved to the sink, then turned, folding her arms. “Alright, Black?”
He blinked, like he was startled that she was speaking to him. He cleared his throat and gave a prim nod. “Alright, thanks.”
She snorted, then glanced at the muffin. “He’s a shit baker, you know. You don’t have to actually eat that.”
“Oh I…” Regulus, mouth twitched just for a second, and for whatever reason, it flared in her chest like a triumph. “I don’t think I was going to.”
“Bin it. I did mine and lied, told him it was the best muffin I’ve ever eaten. I think Harry fed his to the ants.”
Regulus’ mouth twitched again, then he got up, opened the cabinet, and threw his in next to Lily’s. “He won’t notice?”
“I’m sure he will,” she said, and when she noticed his cheeks bloom faintly pink she added, “and he’d be a damned fool if he thinks for a second any of us are going to eat his rubbish. James has been gifted way too many talents. Baking is not one of them.”
At that, he actually huffed a laugh as he sat back down and took up his tea again. “He’s still been…hospitable.”
“If that’s your way of saying overbearing and obnoxious, then yes. He’s very hospitable.” She turned and flicked her wand at the kettle, not wanting to waste time doing it the muggle way. This was the most they’d spoken possibly ever, and she wasn’t about to lose this ground. Clutching her mug, she sat across from him and let out a sigh. “You’re allowed to be annoyed, you know. I know you didn’t ask for this.”
“No,” he said, then glanced down at the murky brown in his cup. “Whatever it is, it’s better than where I was.”
“I’d imagine even the worst parts of Knockturn Alley are better than Azkaban,” she mused.
Regulus pinked again, and he looked up, letting out a shaking sigh. His mouth worked, like he was trying to find the words. “That’s not…” He cleared his throat. “I mean to say, Evans. Erm…I mean…”
“It’s fine. James still calls me that from time to time,” she added with a faint smile.
He bowed his head. “I didn’t mean Azkaban. That place was,” he shuddered, “there aren’t really words. But I meant erm. Before.”
“With Crouch,” Lily asked, and she saw the visible flinch, as much as Regulus tried to conceal it. “Did he know what you did?”
“He suspected,” Regulus admitted. “They thought if they could gain access to the cave, they could find a way to bring him back. They didn’t have any proof I’d done any of it, though. Crouch tried a number of ways to get me to break.”
Lily bit the inside of her cheek, not sure what to say. “I’m sorry,” she said eventually. “I know pity is terrible, but I can’t help it. You saved our lives, and then you suffered. I’m sure you regret it.”
“I had wanted to die in the cave,” he said very softly, and his face looked slightly startled that he was admitting that at all. “I didn’t think I could live in the world after the Dark Lord was dead. I wasn’t even certain it would work—that it would be enough. I didn’t want to be a survivor in that mess.”
Lily clutched her mug tightly. “Have you told this to James?”
Regulus shook his head. “You can tell him if you like. He deserves to know. He’s worried I’ll hurt you, hurt them.” His eyes flickered toward the window.
“You won’t,” she said.
He looked slightly confused by that, then he huffed that quiet, whispery laugh again. “You’re so certain?”
“I’m even better than James is at telling when people are no good. I knew right from the off where you were headed, but I never thought you were one of them.” It was true. She would look at him during prefect meetings and see the person he might have become, if only he’d been given the same chance, same rebellious streak, as Sirius had. Not that it had done Sirius a world of good. Sirius had been just the same as his brother, he’d just channelled his childhood trauma in different ways.
He looked at her another, long moment. “You’re not bad for a mud…” He stopped himself, looking vaguely horrified. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
She gave him a cool nod, but her voice was calm, gentle in her reply. “I know.” Not, it’s fine, because it wasn’t fine. But she could hear the sincerity in his voice. “For all that James was the child of muggle-wizard equality activists, it took him some time to overcome his as well. Not using the word didn’t make him less of a pureblood. He got over it eventually.”
At that, the corner of Regulus’ lip twitched a final time. “Clearly he did.” Then he pushed himself up and left the room.
***
James walked into the lounge, Ash on his shoulder, her small body occasionally jolting from the last of her tiny sobs. He’d weathered most of her crying in the nursery, and now that she’d calmed enough she would sleep, he started to pace the cottage. Silencing charms usually did the trick, so when James saw Regulus sat in the window seat, his face tipped up to the dark sky, he assumed it was more trouble sleeping than wailing child.
He saw the line of tension in Regulus’ shoulders, letting James know he’d been noticed. “Can I get you anything?”
Regulus snorted. “Don’t you have your hands full?”
James shrugged as Regulus turned to glance at him. “You could take the baby, you know? I wouldn’t mind the break for a few minutes.”
It was meant as a joke, it truly was. So James’ surprise was palpable when Regulus pushed himself up, and held his hands out. There was a moment, a prickle of fear, like he was handing his child over to a nest of vipers. But it only lasted a second—old prejudices and house rivalries that should have ended after they left the halls of their school, and after the war had been won.
Ash murmured a slight complaint as Regulus took her, but his posture was decent, and she settled against his shoulder, her face tucked into the crook of his neck. James felt the relief almost immediately, and he tried to keep himself calm as he walked into the kitchen to heat the kettle.
He did his best not to rush, to try and make sure his nerves weren’t showing—he didn’t want Regulus to think he was trying to hurry back. He poured hot water over two herbal tea bags, added a drop of honey to his own, then came back to find Regulus curled back up in the seat with Ash asleep in his arms.
“If I’d known you could do that, I’d have woken you up weeks ago,” James said, handing over the mug.
Regulus held his away from Ash’s body, leaning back against the nook in the wall, his legs still curled up under him. He sipped the tea, then spoke in a low murmur. “If I’d known, maybe I would have offered sooner. I’ve never held a baby before.”
“We’ll you’re cracking good at it, mate,” James said, tipping his mug in cheers. Regulus huffed a laugh, the sound of it going straight to James’ gut, and his eyes widened. “Lily said you smiled the other day. I guess she wasn’t wrong.”
“I have been known to smile a time or two in my life,” Regulus said dryly. “I mean, I know I’m Slytherin, but last time I checked I was also a person.”
James felt his cheeks heat up, bowing his head slightly, staring at his hands holding his mug. He picked at the edge of a nail which was starting to get a bit long, and thought about biting it off. “I didn’t mean to…”
“I know,” Regulus said. “I get it. It’s not like…it’s not like this has been easy for me, either. It’s one thing to make a choice when you think it’s going to be the last thing you do. It’s quite another to have the rest of your choices taken from you.”
“You haven’t,” James began, but the look on Regulus’ face stopped him.
“My options aren’t really choices, are they. I’m not going to argue the details between being stuck here with you, and being locked in Azkaban until my body gives out and I die.”
James shuddered slightly, his eyes closing as he thought about Peter—about the others he’d once known—now rotting away in their cells. He breathed out, then looked at Regulus again. “Sometimes I can’t help but think about all the little signs I missed, about how I could have done things differently…”
“You can’t change who people are at their core, Potter. You should know that by now,” Regulus pointed out.
James shook his head. “No, I know that. I always tried not to think of Peter’s hatstall as something to use against him. I thought of it like…like he’d made a choice, you know? The better choice.”
Regulus scoffed and sneered, “Like we’re all monsters. All of us Slytherins.”
“Not all, but you can’t deny how many of your house turned up on the wrong side, and how many of mine didn’t.” Then he smiled, rueful and painful. “Of course none of yours turned over a one year old baby to the Dark Lord for the slaughter, so that might be worth at least twenty of your lot.” James hesitated, then said, "My prejudices are taking a little time to die off too, you know."
Regulus didn’t smile, but his eyes weren’t as narrow as he looked at James’ face. “No point in beating a dead horse. Isn’t that the saying?”
James shrugged.
“I think the only thing that keeps me from going mad is that apart from all the bad choices I made, and the things I forced myself to look away from, I still made the right choice in the end. And I never killed anyone.”
James let out a shaking breath. “I did. Killed someone, I mean. A few, actually.”
“It was kill or be killed,” Regulus said quietly.
“Doesn’t make it easier to bear.”
“No,” Regulus said, and let out a humourless laugh. “No, I suppose it doesn’t. Nor does it make it easier for me to sleep at night knowing I sat in a room where people were tortured and killed, and I said nothing. My one deed doesn’t cancel that out.”
“You can’t try and balance the scales in a war, Regs,” James said, and noticed the way Regulus startled over the old nickname Sirius used to use. But James couldn’t help it. It had fallen from his lips, and Black just didn’t seem fitting the way it had before. Black had never been endearing, the way Evans had been. It wasn’t good enough right now. “We can only accept victory, and try and live better lives.”
“Make better choices?” Regulus offered.
“Hopefully it won’t really come to that,” James said, and this time a real laugh was startled out of Regulus, and James felt his cheeks heat again—for a wholly different reason he wasn’t ready to think about just yet. He put his feet up along the window seat, feeling his calf brush against Regulus’. Neither of them moved. “Do you want me to take her back?”
Regulus’ had moved absently, brushing through Ash’s soft curls, then down her back. She snuffled, snuggled in a little closer. “She’s alright.”
James felt his stomach go warmer. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Regulus looked at him, his eyes stormy, a little cold. “So you can ease your conscience? Don’t worry, Potter. You saved me from the Dementors, you can officially call it even.”
“If you think that’s what it’s about…” James started.
Regulus’ mouth went tight, then he carefully shifted round his tea cup, and stood in front of James. “You should take her.”
James wanted to protest, wanted to say something, anything to keep this going. But his mind was blank. He knew he’d fucked up somehow. Pushing too hard, too fast. It’s what he was best at. Lily was always quick to remind him. “I’m sorry,” he said, then relieved Regulus of the baby. He didn’t call Regulus back when he backed out of the room, and his footsteps echoed up the stairs.
Chapter 5: Chapter Four
Chapter Text
What if you dig
And what if you find
A thousand more
Unanswered questions down inside
That's all you find
-Prince
***
Lily let the warmth from the tea seep into her fingertips as she looked across the table at Remus’ tired face. It bore the scars of the war—not from transformations, but from the things he’d been asked to do in the name of the Order. So far she hadn’t pestered her friend to tell all the horrid little details, and she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to know. Some secrets were best left buried.
“Staring contest, is it?” Remus asked after a while. He'd been in London so long, living with Sirius so long, his Welsh accent was starting to soften at the edges.
Lily couldn’t help a tiny smile. “Sorry. I’m not even sure where to begin. It feels like ten years has gone by, you know?”
“I believe I do.” He glanced round the kitchen—gutted and renovated to get rid of any lingering traces of Sirius’ family. The entire house was a bit of a disaster, and it was taking ages, going room by room. But she supposed it was a good project for Remus who still faced the prejudices of the world who—in spite of all the good he’d done during the war—wanted to see him as second-class. “How are things?”
“That,” she said, thumbing the rim of the cup, wincing as her skin caught on a small chip, “is a loaded question.”
“Well, no one’s dead or maimed so far. Unless you’ve come to ask Sirius’ help burying a body, but James isn’t really the type so…”
She laughed, shaking her head. “He’s more the type to spend all his days trying to bully Regulus into a warm blanket and feed him cocoa. Which Regulus has declined with all the posh manners of his upbringing. It’s…” She trailed off with a sigh, shrugging. “It’s getting better.”
“I didn’t know him all that well. My information is biased, of course. Sirius is still…”
“Perturbed?” Lily offered.
Remus’ smile widened. “That’s a bit polite for him. But yes, something like that. He doesn’t talk about it much. He’s still hacked off that James is taking so much time from work. He spent an hour sulking over double the paperwork last night, and is refusing to take on another partner.”
“Sounds about right,” Lily said. She bit her lip, then glanced at the stairs. “Sirius’ letter mentioned the bedroom.”
“Ah. So a rejection.”
“Not entirely,” Lily said. “I haven’t said anything just yet. I just reckoned you two could hang on another week or so, if it came down to it.”
“Flight risk?” Remus’ brow was furrowed, and he leant back, flicking his wand to summon a packet of chocolate biscuits.
Lily grabbed one gratefully and stuffed half into her mouth without an ounce of grace. She chewed, speaking through crumbs knowing Remus wouldn’t care. “I don’t think he is. He hasn’t got anywhere to go—still no wand, no access to the vault. And it’s not like he’s got loads of friends out there lurking in the shadows. The Ministry has nearly all the Death Eaters that hadn’t been acquitted…”
The pair of them took a moment to glower at the unmentioned names who used their money and influence to escape consequence.
“So what is it?” Remus pressed.
She sighed, pressing her hands down to the top of the table. “A feeling, I guess? I don’t know what the bedroom looks like, but I have a feeling it isn’t entirely pleasant.”
Remus looked at her for a long minute, then pressed his palms to the table and stood up. “You might as well come and have a look, Lils. The room will tell the story better than I ever could.”
***
James was profoundly aware of the space between himself and Regulus, not for how far apart they were, but for how close. The day was sunny and slightly warm, a rarity for mid-October, and James couldn’t help but feel vague alarm whenever things didn’t appear to be normal. He still felt a wash of fear every time there was an unusual storm, still felt panic shooting in his limbs when there was a falling star drifting across the sky. It was hard to separate the chaos of nature from the chaos the war had brought to Britain. It wasn’t even two years from that Halloween night when things had almost come to a crashing end for him and his family.
But right now, in the mild breeze, watching Ash and Harry toddle round in the knee-high grass, he felt a sense of comfort. He glanced down at the ground, at the way Regulus’ hand was close enough to touch if he wanted to, how Regulus’ eyes were trained on the horizon in front of them, and he looked at peace.
“Lookit!” Harry came running over, his small legs pushing through the thick grass, a bright purple wildflower clenched in his fist. James felt his breath catch when Harry bypassed him completely, and threw himself at Regulus. “Lookit. I found dis…dis flower.”
Regulus’ mouth twitched at Harry’s over-pronunciation of the L, and he held out his hand for Harry to lay it on his palm. “Where did you find it?” he asked.
“Erm but I dis…find it wite dere.” He pointed his chubby hand out along the field where the last patches of wildflowers were growing. “But maybe you could like purple?”
“Is it purple?” Regulus asked.
Harry turned wide eyes to James who nodded. “That’s purple, Haz. Good job.”
“Is some…some purple,” Harry said solemnly.
Regulus chuckled, very quiet under his breath. “What should I do with it, then?”
“You could maybe…erm. You could be pretty.” He plucked it off Regulus’ hand, tucking it behind his ear.
James felt his heart patter against his ribs, out of fear and anticipation. “Hazza, Regulus doesn’t want…”
“It’s fine,” Regulus said, then helped Harry stand up and gave him a swat on his behind. “Go on, play before it gets too cold.”
Harry giggled, then ran over to Ash who had fallen over, and was now pushing her fingers into a bit of mud.
James watched them for a moment, then turned his gaze back to Regulus. “It suits you.”
Regulus blinked, then grinned—wider than he ever had so far. “Does it?”
“It’s a good colour on you, purple. Dunno if I’d wear much more of it than that, but…” James shrugged, feeling at a loss for words. The tentative friendship—or whatever it was, he didn’t quite have a name for it—was fragile, spider web cracks threatening to shatter completely at the first wrong word. But right now Regulus looked at ease. Happy, even, or as close to happy as he got these days.
Regulus’ fingers reached up, brushing the petals. “I never thought I’d like children. I mean, it’s not like my family ever gave me a lot of opportunity to spend time with them. Andromeda never came round, especially after hers was born, and by the time Narcissa’s boy was born well…” He let the rest of that sentence trail off, the day much too nice for mention of the war.
“I hadn’t either, you know,” James said, and when Regulus looked surprised, James laughed. “What? Only child—most of my parents’ families stayed in India, so it was just me until I got to Hogwarts.” He sat back on his hands, tipping his head up to the sky and squinted against the fading brightness of the late afternoon sun. “When Lily found out she was pregnant I was terrified. I didn’t think I had it in me to be any good as a father.”
Regulus snorted. “Is that some sort of faux-humility so I’ll compliment you?”
James laughed again, shaking his head. “I’d never fish from your pond, Black.” He let out a slow breath. “We were so young. I mean, I feel two hundred years old some days, feels like I lived at least three or four lifetimes after all that. But I was twenty, you know? I was twenty and I was getting killing curses shot at me every time I stepped into battle and I…” He stopped, licking his lips, not willing to look over just yet. “I didn’t think I could be a good solider and a good father and a good husband. I was angry.”
Regulus made a soft, considering noise in the back of his throat. “Understandable.”
“Is it?” James looked over at him. “I think Lils had a lot of the same fears, but she didn’t ever voice them. She didn’t let the fear get to her the way I did. I came round, obviously.” He sat up a bit more, then dug his fingers into the soft earth between the two of them. “The night you…that night. Halloween night,” he said, then cleared his throat. “We’d learnt Lily was pregnant with Ash that day.”
He dared a look up just as Regulus’ gaze flickered over to the two children who were following what looked like a small hedgehog through the grass. Emotions warred across his face, and James knew them well. He knew the look of the what-if. What if he’d made a different choice, what if he’d been later, what if he’d been too afraid. What if the Dark Lord had found them anyway.
“That way lies madness,” James murmured.
Regulus turned to look at him, letting out a trembling breath. “Sometimes I worry the only reason you care right now is because of what I did.” He let his eyes close, then open. “It was selfish. Part of it was selfish. I knew I was expendable, I’d always been the spare, you know? Spare son, spare brother, spare Death Eater. The Dark Lord accepted my services because I could offer him eyes and ears inside Hogwarts. There were two others in my year who took the mark. Sirius was off being a hero and I never…” Regulus paused, rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “I never thought the Dark Lord was right. I always thought it was a bit…rubbish, but I wanted my parents to look at me like I was worth something. I knew it was a mistake, and I thought maybe if I could go down in a blaze of glory, then people would look at Sirius as the brother of the man who helped end the war.”
“Regulus,” James started.
Regulus pushed up from the ground, brushing bits of grass from his trousers, and looked down at James. “I’m not sorry for what I did, and I don’t think I’m entirely a bad person. I don’t buy into the pureblood nonsense—I’ve always seen what pureblood breeds. But don’t let what you think happened cloud your judgement, Potter. I didn’t do it to be a hero to the world, I did it because I was tired of being a shadow.”
James didn’t stop him when he walked away, but he took note that as he left, he still wore the flower in his hair.
***
He found Lily in the corridor, a few feet away from the doorway to Harry’s room. He wrapped his arms round her from behind, tucking his chin over her shoulder, letting their fingers link together. In the quiet of the still hallway, they could hear the rise and fall of Regulus’ voice occasionally punctuated by Harry’s excited questions, and soft giggles as he read from one of the muggle books Lily had stocked the nursery with.
“How long have you been standing out here?” he murmured in her ear.
“Ten minutes or so. Harry was yelling for a book, but before I could get there, he went in.” She licked her lips, turning her head slightly toward her husband to kiss him. “I think I want to go home soon.”
“I know,” James said. He only had so long before he was due back at the Ministry. They could, of course, easily and comfortably live off what his parents had left him, but he’d go mad that way if he tried. And Lily had a future ahead of her now that the war was over, now that they were safe. “We can talk about it after…”
After the anniversary. After they lived through another reminder of what could have been the worst night of their lives. James usually spent it with Remus and Sirius—a night of mourning, a night of regret for what was, and what could have been, and knowing all the moments that they might have been able to stop Peter from turning sides, and didn’t. A night to acknowledge Regulus’ heroism, and absence from the world as it was.
This year would be different, however. This year Regulus was here, and safe, and alive. James wasn’t entirely sure how to handle that.
“He had a flower in his hair when I got in,” Lily said, then tugged James away, back toward their bedroom. “Was that your doing?”
James couldn’t help his laugh as he shut the door with a firm click. “Harry’s. He and Ash were playing in the field. I thought it looked nice. Suited him.”
Lily was giving him a very long, considering look that he couldn’t entirely read. “Do you remember when you fell in love with me?”
James flopped on the bed, bouncing a little as he tried to scoot up toward the pillows, failed, and gave up halfway there. “The moment I saw you on the Hogwarts Express…”
“No,” she said, and the tone of her voice made him sit up on an elbow to look at her. “No, I mean properly fell in love with me. Not your ridiculous antics and obsession with making me like you simply because I refused to.”
James felt his cheeks flush with ages-old embarrassment and he shrugged. “Yeah, I remember. Seventh year, we got stuck in that freak snowstorm just outside the shrieking shack. I wanted to go in, you were scared…”
“I wasn’t scared, I was trying not to break one of the most important rules at the school,” she defended, crossing her arms.
James laughed again, hopping up to grab her wrist, and they both tumbled to the duvet. James octopussed his arms and legs round her, kissing her neck gently, just the way he knew she liked. “You were scared of the big bad Moony Monster.”
“That was the night you told me the truth. I already suspected—I had no idea about the shack but I never thought you’d actually say,” she replied.
James smiled against her warm skin. “I know. I told you because I realised then that I loved you, and I didn’t want to keep anything from you. You were too smart for me, anyway.”
Lily pulled back, cupping his cheek, then kissed him soft, slow, drawn out. James sank into it, pushing her back against the pillows, letting his body hover over hers as his hands warmed, and his tongue pushed gently into her mouth.
Things had been intense for so long, it felt like an eternity since he’d been able to do this, have this with her. His hand pushed up the hem of her sleep shirt, cupping her breast, teasing at her nipple. She gasped into his mouth, her hips arching toward him, seeking friction, and he pressed his knee between her legs, letting her grind down on the top of his thigh.
“I want you,” she murmured.
“You have me. I’m yours, always yours,” he whispered back. His hand moved down, along the expanse of her belly, loving the feel of her stretch marks under the pads of his fingers. He pushed at the hem of her bottoms, shifting so she could wriggle out of them, and then he felt the warm, wet heat against his palm as he pushed his fingers right where she was wanting.
He worked her up as he kissed her, feeling her first climax spasm against his hand, his fingers pushed just inside of her opening to catch the wetness there. She groaned, clenching round him, then shifted her legs wide to take him between her thighs. “Please,” she whispered.
James tugged and pulled until he was naked, just the sheet over them, and he was aching with need as he pushed inside her. The first slide was intense, hot, slick, overwhelming in the way it always was with her. His body was filled with want, a grunt lodged in his throat as he began to move with purpose, his hand still down between them to tease at her.
When his hips began to stutter, she pulled back, catching his gaze, and he tipped over the edge, spilling inside of her with a heavy gasp. She pulled him in for a final kiss, then they eased apart, though never leaving each other’s arms as they breathed heavy into the pillows.
“That was unexpected,” he murmured.
She laughed gently, propping up on one elbow. Her hand moved to his hair, brushing the wild strands back away from his face, then dragged the tip of one finger down the edge of his jaw. “It was. I brought you in here to talk, not shag.”
James felt his cheeks flame hot with his blush. “Oh. Well I…”
“It was good,” she said, in that tone he knew she was using to try and soothe him. “It was very good.”
“But you still want to talk,” he pressed.
She sighed, flopping back down, and pressed one hand to her forehead. “It feels a little…weird to be talking about this right after a shag,” she admitted. “Maybe that’s best though, you were always at your most reasonable right after a good fucking.”
James rolled his eyes, then fumbled for his glasses which had gotten lost in the lust-fuelled chaos. “Just out with it, Evans.” In truth, he was nervous. Things had been calm between them for so long now, part of him had just been waiting for the other shoe to drop.
She chewed on her lip, then said, “I was asking about the first time you fell in love with me, because I wanted you to remember that feeling. Not the night you told me,” she added when he opened his mouth. “I know it was before then. I know you were starting to feel things. You’re an open book, Potter. Everyone could tell. I mean more than your ridiculous courting rituals you and Black cooked up before that.”
James gave a sheepish smile, knowing what she was saying was entirely true. Seventh year drove Sirius, Remus, and Peter more mad than fifth simply because this time he truly was besotted—with Lily, that time, not just the idea of her. But he’d been so stubborn about it, refusing to say or do anything because he’d promised her—a public vow—that he’d never bother her about his feelings again.
He hadn’t known at the time her blossoming friendship with him had turned into something else for her as well.
“I do remember,” he said. “Of course I do. I just don’t see what that’s got to do with…”
“My issue here, James, is that when you’re falling in love—actual love—you’re insufferable. Your ridiculous smiles and trying to sort out your emotions because even after all these years, the only thing you’ve ever loved easily and simply, is your children. And I don’t think I can sit here and suffer through another year of you getting your shit together.”
James frowned, worried now, and a little confused. “Lily I don’t…”
“Regulus,” Lily said with a huff. “I’m talking about Regulus.”
It hit James like a sack of bricks—because there was a feeling in his gut he’d been ignoring for weeks now, one he was too afraid to even begin to acknowledge, because he didn’t know what it was going to mean if he did. He was hoping—foolishly so—that maybe if he pretended it wasn’t there at all, it would just…go away.
He hadn’t anticipated anyone knowing.
He felt guilt rip through him, like knives shredding his insides, and his eyes went hot. “Lily, I don’t…”
“You do,” she said, and he was confused by how simple it sounded coming from her. Like it was okay, like she was unbothered, and that is what triggered the panic. Was she talking about leaving him? Was this a goodbye shag? Was this… “James.” Her voice ripped him out of his head. “I see your head going and I need you to calm down. I’m not upset.”
“I know that,” James said, his voice just this shy of hysterical. “That’s the problem, Lils!”
“It isn’t, though,” she said. She reached out to touch him, but he wrenched away.
“I don’t want to stop this. I love you, I can’t lose you, I can’t…”
“James,” she said, softer this time, and when she reached for him again, this time he caught her, pushing almost frantic kisses to her wrist, to her palm, to her fingers. “James, I’m not going anywhere.”
It didn’t stop the panic, but it stopped the hysterical feeling building in his gut. “Then what…”
“I’ve been thinking about this a while now. Because I know you. I think I knew a long time ago that whatever was motivating you to find Regulus—it wasn’t just because he saved us. There was more there, and I knew if we found him, it would turn into something more. And as much as I want to be selfish and say no—I don’t think I can.”
“Why?” James asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Because in the end, I want you to be happy, and I think he could make you happy.”
He blinked against the hot tears, his voice broken, pathetic when he said, “You make me happy, Lily.”
She laughed, soft and careful as she curled her hand round the back of his neck and drew their foreheads together. “I know I do. But he will, too. I don’t know how I’d feel if he didn’t fit in here so well, but he does.” She paused, then said, “I went to visit Remus the other day, see how he and Sirius were getting on. Remus showed me Regulus’ room and it…it broke my heart, Jamie. It was impersonal, it was just this…this shrine to all things Slytherin, and I think if I’d never met him, I’d just assume he was another one of those twats who blindly followed the Dark Lord. But I do know him, and I knew all of that was whatever had been forced on him and I don’t…I don’t ever want him to go back to that. He’s good here.”
“I don’t really know what you’re saying,” James said, nearly begging for her to start making sense.
“I’m saying that you’re falling in love with him, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one’s looking, and I know he feels the same way. So—if he’s game—I’m game.”
“You’re,” James said, knowing he was being thick, but he couldn’t help it.
“I’m okay with you having us both,” she said. “He’s good here, I’m good here. I think you are. So why not just leave it at that. With…with the added bonus of being able to snog him when you get that look in your eye. Because you get that look, James, when you’re with him, when you’re talking about him. When you see him with a flower in his hair.”
James burned with shame, but also with something else. Hope, maybe? He was still too afraid to look too closely. “I don’t know if I can.”
“If there’s anyone in the world who can love more than one person James, it’s you. You already do. You have for years. Sirius and Remus, me, your children. James, it’s okay. It’s okay.” She drew him close, smoothed her fingers through his hair, pressed a kiss to his temple. “You don’t have to decide now, but I knew if I never said a word, you’d just suffer in silence the rest of your life, and so would he. And that’s absurd. You can love us both, if you want to.”
“Only if I want to,” James said.
She curled round him tighter. “Yes, love. Only if you want to.”
He breathed out, a little shaky, clinging to her so tight he knew it probably hurt a little. But he couldn’t make himself let go. “We both need sleep,” he eventually said.
She tipped his chin up, and kissed him again. “I know. I’m here, Jamie. I’m not going anywhere.”
He let out a trembling breath, then buried his face in the front of her chest.
Chapter 6: Five
Notes:
I'll be updating this over the next three days to finish the fic out. I'm currently writing for Jilytober on my tumblr ( angryspace-ravenclaw ) which I have posts written and queued to post one per day if you want more HP content. I'll eventually move them to ao3 when I get a chance--my chance to repeatedly deny the deaths of Lily and James for the month of October. Hah! <3 x
Chapter Text
What if you pick apart the logic
And begin to poke the holes
What if the crown of thorns is no more
Than folklore that must be told and retold
-Prince
***
He said nothing. He couldn’t. But it was like a weight hanging off him now every time he was with Regulus. He was painfully, profoundly aware of Lily watching him—watching them, and it was killing him. So much that as the weeks crept into October, he cracked and announced he’d be visiting Sirius and Remus for a day or two.
“It’s nearly the moon anyway, and I could use some space,” he said, staring at his feet, wracked with guilt. “I’m…Lils, I’m sorry I just…”
He went quiet when she stepped up to him and took his face between her hands. “Go.” She kissed him, sweet and easy. “Go have fun, tell Moony and Padfoot that I love them, and you bloody-well threaten them if they don’t visit soon, I’m coming for some bollocks.”
James chuckled quietly, curling his fingers round her wrists. “I love you. I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” she said, then pushed him back by the centre of his chest. “Go.”
He took a last look, knew it was best to avoid Regulus, and he disappeared with a loud crack.
***
James clutched the glass of whiskey so tight, his knuckles started to ache. He was bearing the brunt of Sirius’ furious glower, and trying not to smile at the way Remus was pulling faces where Sirius couldn’t see him. It was late that night—they were full of takeaway curry and the fire was a bit warm for the parlour. It was strange to be there now, strange to see the place gutted and rebuilt at the hands of Sirius and Remus.
James recalled the first time he ever set foot in Grimmauld Place. The winter hols—his parents were staying in London that year, and after a few owls, the Blacks, though not fans of the Potters, decided that if Sirius was going to be consorting with Gryffindors, at least James was of the pureblood sort.
Regulus had been there—doe-eyed and innocent and desperate for Sirius’ attention. Sirius was more focussed on being able to sneak out, on trying to act far older than they were, and wreak havoc on London Proper posing as muggles though the pair of them wouldn’t have known a muggle item if it had jumped up and bit them on the arse.
James used to wonder, when Sirius was grieving the loss of his family, the loss of his brother, if maybe they’d taken a few minutes just to pay Regulus a few moments of attention, things would have gone differently. He thought that now about Peter. About where they’d gone wrong. About all the times Sirius was a prat to him, mocking and just shy of cruel, and James knowing it but never saying a thing because he’d wanted to be cool. He knew Remus wrestled with those demons. Remus had said, just after Peter had been caught, that he blamed himself.
“I could have done something, said something to you two. But I was afraid you’d turn on me.”
And James bore the brunt of that guilt as well. That somehow at his most twattish of fifteen years old, he managed to let someone he loved beyond measure think that a single disagreement with him would lose him that love and loyalty. He would have quite liked to have borrowed a time-turner and gone back to smack himself across the face.
There was no sense in the what-ifs, but there was no way to stop them, either.
“If you’re quite finished,” James said after what was far too long of letting Sirius sulk.
Sirius’ eyes narrowed. “If you think I don’t have the right to be pissed off…”
“You’re the one who washed your hands of this,” James pointed out, gesturing at Sirius with his glass. “You’re the one who asked for time.”
“To deal with him, not the absence of you,” Sirius growled.
James sighed. “What was I meant to do. Throw him to Lily and the kids and say, alright dear, have a good afternoon with a possible mass-murderer. I’m off to work so Sirius doesn’t get lonely.”
“Fuck you, Potter.” Sirius was up then, storming out of the room, and James collapsed back against the sofa cushions, dragging a hand down his face.
“Fuck. I’m fucking this all up. I should…”
“No,” Remus said, and shifted to the sofa next to James. “Let him walk it off. You know he’ll only row with you and then wands will get involved and I’m really not keen on spending the two days before the moon in the magical accidents ward.”
James sighed, but he knew Remus was right. “I didn’t come here for a row, you know.”
“That much was obvious,” Remus said with a tiny grin. He shifted, plopping his socked feet into James’ lap, and prod at him until James put his whiskey down and began to massage them. Remus gave a happy hum, leaning back a bit. “Do you want to talk about it? Or did you just come to drown your sorrows in a piss-up?”
“I don’t…” James licked his lips, not quite sure how to tell one of his best friends that Lily suggested James go and shag their current housemate. The ex-Death Eater, brother of Sirius one. “Things are strange.”
Remus gave him a pointed look, and when James didn’t elaborate, he said, “I’m a werewolf, not a mind-reader.”
“I don’t entirely know how to say this without erm. Without it sounding. It’s just…I’m having this…and I don’t know how to…” James trailed off into a long string of Tamil he knew Remus couldn’t understand, and he ignored Remus’ unimpressed stare.
“I heard Regulus’ name in there, and it’s not that I’m surprised since I did have a feeling it was about him, but I am surprised it took this long.” When James gave him a curious look, he rolled his eyes again. “I’ve known you for about half my life, Prongs. Which means I know you fancy him.”
Had James been drinking right then, he might have choked to death. “How…”
“I just said I’ve known you half my life. He’s your type, you fucking twat. He’s exactly your type. He’s delicate, but strong, he’s gorgeous—and okay I’m biased, but still. He’s got an edge to him, probably doesn’t hesitate to put you in your place when you need it, and I’ve a feeling he’s probably pretty good with both Lily and the kids.” Remus smiled when James gaped at him. “My real question is, does Lily know?”
“She suggested it,” James muttered, and when Remus asked him to repeat it, he did, a bit louder.
Remus’ eyebrows went up. “Suggested what, exactly?”
“That I…that he and I…” He breathed through his panic.
“Well if you can’t say it, it’s probably a good idea that you don’t do it,” Remus pointed out helpfully.
James shot him a V, then said, “She thinks I should be with him as well. Not…not that things would change with her, but she thinks I’ll be miserable and self-sacrificing and suffer in misery my entire life to avoid hurting her.”
“She’s not wrong.”
“I know that, thank you,” James snapped, then took Remus’ other foot into his hands. “She seems utterly unperturbed by it, and I don’t know how that makes me feel. I don’t know if I could handle seeing her with someone else.”
“What if that someone else was Regulus?” Remus pointed out.
James froze, feeling a warm sensation flushing through his body—and it wasn’t necessarily bad. The idea of examining it closer was terrifying, but he didn’t really need to. “Oh.”
Remus snorted. “You’re a fucking idiot. Also, when Sirius finds out, he’s going to murder you in your bed.”
“I know,” James groaned, and flopped his head back, resuming the massage when Remus kicked him again. “Any chance I can get away with not telling him at all?”
“Doubtful,” Remus said cheerfully. “But if it helps you at all, tell him after he’s gone on a long flight on the bike, and had a good shag. That usually puts him in a decent mood.”
“Ever the hero, Moony.”
Remus grinned toothily. “I do try.”
***
Sirius returned after his long sulk with a half-apology on his lips. He was mollified after James let Sirius sit on his lap, and the three of them put on the telly and watched some bizarre magical space programme until the alcohol put them into a half-sleep.
They ended up all in Remus and Sirius’ bed, and the following day they prepped for their full moon run. James had resolved not to tell Sirius until he made up his own mind, not wanting to deal with a hysterical Sirius tantrum before he could even work out what he wanted with Regulus. But seeing his mates was good—it was more than. It was exactly what he needed.
The evening after the moon, when Remus was resting, Sirius and James ate pizza in the kitchen, their feet bumping against each other the way they used to do in the Great Hall.
“I’ve missed this,” Sirius said.
James snorted. “You know you can have it, right? I mean, Lily’s sent some threats against your bollocks if the pair of you don’t show up soon. Halloween’s coming up and erm. Well.”
“I was thinking about that,” Sirius replied. He dragged a hand down his face, then looked up at James. “It’s high time I get over it, right? He’s here, he meant what he did, he’s not…evil.”
“He isn’t evil,” James agreed, and ignored the way his heart fluttered in his chest when he thought about it.
“We’ll be there.”
“Harry would also be queued up to maim if you didn’t show up,” James said. “He’s missed you probably more than I have. Can’t say the same for Ash, but she’s always favoured Remus. And besides, she only cares about two things…”
“Mashing biscuits into rugs and interrupting REM sleep?” Sirius offered.
James laughed. “Exactly.”
***
Lily wasn’t aware the silencing charm had worn off until she felt a hand drop on her shoulder. She spun, the movement momentarily startling Ash into silence, and she saw Regulus standing just behind her, his brow furrowed.
“I’m sorry,” she said, not particularly sounding it after having walked the floor for four hours with no respite from the screaming. “She’s poorly, and her fever hasn’t gone down, and I just…I just…”
Regulus took another step toward her and held out his arms. When Lily hesitated, he rolled his eyes. “Come on, Evans. You’ve been at this ages. Let me take her. You go have a cuppa, maybe a bath, a twenty minute nap. Something. You’re going to fall apart.”
Lily’s arms shook at the thought of being able to relieve themselves of her daughter, just for a little while. “She’s not going to stop.”
“I know,” Regulus said. “I’m not unfamiliar with the way babies work, even if I don’t have a lot of experience.”
“James usually…usually helps,” she said, trying to be heard over the wails.
Regulus stepped even closer, and let his hands fall at Ashima’s middle. “But he isn’t here. He’s in London, and you need a break. Come on, I’ve slept.”
Eventually, Lily relinquished the baby, and though the crying didn’t stop, the relief was immediate, and palpable. The idea of tea and a bath was so pleasant, she nearly teared up, and rushed out of the room before she could make a fool of herself. The moment the door closed, her ears rang in the silence, and she took a moment to breathe through her relief and exhaustion before heading down the hall, and into the bathroom.
It took less than a handful of moments to get the tub full, fragrant with oils, the room humid and warm. She sank into the water, closing her eyes, and tried not to let worry get to her. James needed this time away, but it was not a surprise that with her luck, one of the kids would catch something. They’d been on edge since the Potters had caught Dragon Pox—and though her kids had been immunised against it, the fear was there. She’d lived through James’ grief, losing his parents to something they could have prevented, and having been surrounded by so much death, so much tragedy for so long, Lily had a hard time not believing that the next crisis was just round the corner.
All the same, the bath was what she needed. It rejuvenated her just enough that she thought she could take another hour or two of Ash’s screaming—and hopefully by then her fever would have either worked itself out, or she’d give in to the exhaustion. She could tuck the baby into bed with her and sleep, trying not to think of James running with the moon, or what was going to happen after.
She was deliberately not thinking about what she’d told James before—how she’d noticed him slowly falling in love, and Regulus doing a piss-poor job of hiding his own feelings. It had stung at first, but she felt strange at how quickly she’d come round to the idea that James could have both.
She didn’t hate it. In another world she might have even fancied Regulus a little bit. He was like his brother in all the ways she loved Sirius, and unlike him in the ways that drove her mad. Reasons why she’d never been able to fancy Sirius at school well…Regulus was apart from that.
It was dangerous territory, though. She didn’t know where she stood with him, how deep his prejudices ran, and this little bit of friendship between them felt like a huge triumph.
She pushed it all aside as she dressed into fresh pyjamas, ignored the time on the mantle clock, and went back into the study where there was, surprisingly, no more screaming. Her mind went torn in half between fear and relief, and she couldn’t help herself from rushing through the door.
She came to a skidding halt when she found Regulus bouncing a sleeping Ash very gently in his arms. Her face had stilled, her mouth turned into a frown, but she was asleep, and there was a slight sheen of sweat over her brow which told Lily it was likely her fever had broken.
Regulus gave her an exasperated look when she walked in. “I thought I said to rest.”
She rolled her eyes and let the backs of her knuckles brush along her daughter’s forehead. It was blissfully cool, and she only murmured before settling deeper into Regulus’ arms. “I’m a worrier.”
“Over me or her?” Regulus asked, and he huffed a laugh when Lily couldn’t bring herself to give a truthful answer. “Your fever reducing potion didn’t have enough lavender in it. I adjusted it.”
Lily groaned, pressing her hand to her forehead. “Lavender. Bloody hell. And here I think I’m going to become a potion’s master when I can’t even remember the fucking lavender for my feverish child.”
“You’ve been up for days,” Regulus reminded her. “Even the most accomplished potion’s master would have made the same mistake.” He sighed, then relinquished his hold on the baby, though he didn’t leave. “At least let me make you some tea.”
She felt something warm in her belly, and she gave him a careful look. “You don’t have to take care of me, you know.”
He let out the softest laugh, then walked forward and put his hand on her lower back, pushing her toward the door. “I know.”
“You don’t have to earn your keep, Black.”
“Thank you, Evans,” he said, and when they started walking, she was very, very aware he hadn’t pulled his hand away. “I am aware this isn’t some sort of enslavement situation. This is one…” he hesitated and fumbled the word, “f-friend. Helping another.”
She bowed her head toward Ash and smiled as the pair of them walked into the kitchen, and he started the kettle.
Chapter 7: Six
Notes:
I lied. The story is sorted and there's no point in delaying, so here's the final chapter x
Chapter Text
What if you jump?
Just close your eyes
What if the arms that catch you
Catch you by surprise?
What if He's more than enough?
What if it's love?
-Prince
***
There were thousands of scenarios that James Potter imagined coming home to. A quaint meal, his children having burnt the house to the ground, everyone murdered in their beds, everyone having a fancy dress party and dressed as muggle rock stars.
He did not anticipate walking into the house just after lunch to find Lily asleep sat up, Regulus’ head on her lap, also asleep, and a dozing Ashima stretched out on his chest. Harry was in the armchair, curled up with his dog stuffie, looking like he wasn’t going to wake any time in the next century.
Something shifted in James’ chest, something warm, something right. Something he wanted to dig his claws into and never, ever let go. He saw Lily shift, her hand drift through Regulus’ hair just once. He saw Regulus’ face soften, shift only slightly, a hand protectively clutched against Ash’s back.
James crept over, leaning against the arm of the sofa, and he brushed the backs of his knuckles along Lily’s cheek until her eyes fluttered open. She’d always woken lazy, careful, unlike James who often snapped to attention, his heart racing. He watched wakefulness creep into her soft, green eyes. She glanced down at her hand, at Regulus asleep on her leg, then flushed, making her freckles stand out brighter against her cheeks.
“You’re back,” she whispered.
James couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “I am. Looks like I’m not the only one who might…”
“James,” she said, her voice just slightly louder, full of warning.
He sighed, leaning in to press a kiss to the centre of her forehead, the tip of her nose, the corner of her mouth. “It would make me happy. If it was all of us, it would make me happy.”
She shifted her other hand to wind through his wild locks, then down his cheek, cupping it and drawing him in to a proper kiss. “I got my letter about the entrance exam to the Potion Academy,” she murmured instead of answering him.
James’ eyes widened. “When did…”
“Today. A raven came with the letter. It’s this week, Tuesday to Friday. I’m…” She pinked again, but James didn’t think it was embarrassment or happiness. There was conflict in her eyes. “We can talk about it later, yeah?”
Just then, Regulus stirred. His hand pressed down on Ash, and he lifted his head, eyes going wide when he saw James sat there. “I…” he fumbled.
James reached down, replacing Lily’s hand with his own, brushing a bit of fringe from his forehead. “You lot looked so cosy, I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“And yet you have no qualms waking me from a nice kip. Your daughter has been poorly and I’ve gotten maybe four hours of sleep since you’ve been gone,” Lily complained.
James’ face fell as he backed up. Regulus shifted upward, careful not to disturb Ash who murmured, whimpered, then fell back asleep in the crook of his neck. Lily rose, stretching her back, then said, “I need a bath and a long sleep.”
“Then I’ve got this,” James said. He drew her in for a short, sweet kiss, then gave her a shove toward the door. “Go on. I’ll get tea as well.”
She scrubbed at her eyes, still looking worried, but he knew she’d tell him about whatever it was bothering her later. He watched her give a soft smile—familiar smile, one that he had treasured for years and years—to Regulus before disappearing out the door, then up the stairs.
When James shifted into her abandoned seat, Regulus cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to…we were just chatting and Ash got sleepy and I…”
“Regulus,” James said, his voice quiet so he didn’t wake the kids, “you’re wanted here.”
Regulus’ cheeks flushed even darker than Lily’s had, and he stared down at his hand on Ash’s back. “I know you know there wasn’t a lot of simple comforts for me and Sirius growing up. Sometimes I forgot it can…it can be like this.”
“Was it ever like this?” James asked, feeling a little bold.
Regulus gave a dry laugh. “After Sirius met you, before I went off to Hogwarts and everything changed.”
James let out a tiny sigh, but still feeling that boldness, he shifted closer until his side was pressed against Regulus’. He felt Regs stiffen for a minute, then go pliant against him, and they leant into each other as the children continued to sleep.
***
James entered the bedroom with a tray of food in his hands, finding Lily awake, freshly bathed, and sat on the bed poring over one of his dad’s old potions’ books. She glanced up at him, then gave a smile and held her hand out for the tea that was on the tray.
“Thanks, babe,” she said, taking a huge drink.
James set the tray near the edge of her knee, then slid into the empty space beside her. “Do you want to talk about it now?” He reached over, flicking the pages of the book gently with his thumb. At her silence, he said, “I haven’t seen this one in ages. He wrote this before I was born.”
Her eyes flickered down to the curly handwriting of Fleamont Potter. “Is it cruel to tell you, of all people, that I wish he was here right now?”
James laughed, tucking himself in closer to her, nosing at her temple. “No, love. I wish he was too. Sometimes for those profound reasons that I can’t name, that just make me feel empty inside. Sometimes for selfish ones—like having grandparents who could take the kids for a weekend so we could get away. He loved you a lot. He would have been over the bloody moon to see you get that letter.”
She made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “I didn’t think I’d get this far. By seventh year—everything that came after it—I didn’t think we’d live to see a day past the Dark Lord’s fall. And I didn’t keep up on any of this. I feel like I’m going to stand in front of a cauldron and fuck up so badly they’re going to laugh me out of the exam.”
James sighed, holding her tight, letting his nose press right against her temple. He loved the scent of her—nothing special, but everything distinctly Lily. “You might fuck up. I can’t say that your nerves won’t get the best of you. The only time I ever beat you in potions was when you got yourself all twisted into knots. And I was born with it, Lils. Potions run in my blood. I was brewing with my dad from Harry’s age. And you’re still better than me. You might have lost some, but what you’ve got left is going to brew circles round the other contenders. And it’ll all come back, once you get going again.”
“I hate you so much,” she said, with a tone that meant the exact opposite. She turned her face, kissing him for a long moment.
“I know, love,” he said, grinning against her cheek. He took in a breath. “You’re going to be amazing. You’ll get this done, you’ll achieve this amazing, huge thing you’ve always wanted, and we’ll be here. All of us, to cheer you on.”
“All of you,” she murmured. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against the top of his shoulder. “Have you said anything yet?”
James scoffed. “Don’t you know me at all, Evans?”
She looked at him with a softness in her eyes, and then she said, “I fancy him too, you know. It isn’t just you that wants…that would be okay with…you know.”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “Shall I do something about it? Whilst you’re gone.”
She rolled her eyes and smacked him on the thigh. “Why not now? Let me study in peace? See if he wants to go for a walk or something. I’ll keep an ear out for the kids.”
James curled his knuckles under her chin, tipping her head up for a kiss which drew out, and out, and out. When he finally pulled back, he pushed his forehead against hers. “I feel like we’ve been through enough, the universe is going to give us a few things. People who need love, people we want to love, good children, decent jobs. Maybe it won’t be just handed over—we still have to work for it, but it won’t be going to war. Not again.”
She kissed him, a sweet peck to his lips before shoving him off. “Go talk your poetic rubbish to someone who cares, Potter. I’m busy.”
He laughed, then pushed himself off the bed and strolled down the hallway to find Regulus.
***
James went down to make himself a cup of tea first, then grabbed a second and headed back toward Regulus’ room. He listened at the nursery for a moment, but the kids were either sound asleep, or getting very adept at their silent shenanigans, but whatever the case, James didn’t see a need to bother them. He headed down to Regulus’ door, and when he knocked softly, the door gently creaked open.
Inside, Regulus was in the chair near the window, his head lolled to the side in a near sleep. He didn’t seem aware of James, so he leant down and nudged his shoulder gently with the edge of the tea cup. James expected him to be mildly startled, or even annoyed.
He did not expect the way Regulus flew from his chair, knocking both mugs from James’ hands as he threw himself against the wall, drawing his knees to his chest, his hands over his head protectively.
James immediately panicked, dropping to his knees a foot away from Regulus with one hand out, not quite touching. “Hey, Black,” he said, not sure if using his name would make it worse. “Hey, you’re safe, it’s okay.”
Regulus muttered, “Please don’t. Please.”
“Regs,” James said, and carefully brushed his fingers along his exposed wrist. “It’s James. It’s okay, you’re with me. Hey.”
After a tense moment, Regulus’ body went lax, and his head poked out from behind his arms, his eyes a little wild, confused, but more present. “What…”
“I think you were having a nightmare,” James said. He was burnt a little along his arms from the hot tea, and it was cooling unpleasantly on his night shirt, and he picked at it without really thinking. “You okay, mate?”
Regulus gave him a careful look, then waved his hand at James. The tea instantly dried, the burn soothed, and James blinked, startled a little in spite of knowing just how good the Black family was with their wandless magic.
James eased himself all the way down onto the floor, shifting a little closer until their ankles knocked together. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not even a little bit, Potter.”
James shrugged. “Alright. Do you want some tea?”
Regulus gave him a careful look, then extended one hand. James scrambled to his feet, then eased Regulus up, and pretended he couldn’t feel him shaking under his hand. They didn’t touch for long, Regulus staying close, but not too close, as they headed back to the kitchen.
The water in the kettle was still mostly hot, so James fetched two more mugs, some herbal tea, and cast a warming charm before passing it over. “Honey?”
“This is fine, thanks,” Regulus muttered. He blew on it, then took a sip, his eyes slipping closed and his face still a little pink in his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I erm…that doesn’t happen too often.”
“I get it,” James said. He was still no stranger to the nightmares, though he had a feeling the horrors Regulus had creeping in the shadows of his mind were far worse. “I had the worst insomnia for the first few months after the war was over. Every time I closed my eyes it was…” He stopped, clearing his throat. “I stopped wanting to sleep. Potions helped but…”
“Made you feel like you were losing your humanity a little?” Regulus offered, and when James nodded, he gave a dry laugh. “Yeah. I wanted to wean myself off but it’s not so easy.”
James leant his elbow on the counter. “Helps when I don’t sleep alone.”
“Good thing you’re married,” Regulus said, a little sharply.
Rolling his eyes, James sighed quietly and said, “You live in a house with two adults and two children. There is literally no reason to need marriage to not sleep alone.”
“You want to have a cuddle, Potter?” Regulus asked, his tone mocking, but there was an underlying question and James was clinging to that.
He didn’t answer this time though. He was fairly sure what he wanted—he wanted Regulus and with Lily’s blessing, he was going forward. But Regulus wasn’t like Lily. Regulus wasn’t like anyone he’d ever wanted before, and it was new territory. He was going in blind, and trying to be brave, though he wasn’t sure it was enough. But he was going to try.
He held out his hand again, and after a long moment, Regulus took it. This time, as they moved out of the room, James didn’t let go. He kept their fingers tangled as he took them up the stairs, and into the guest bedroom. Regulus made a noise of questioning, but James didn’t bother answering as he used his wand to conjure a pile of blankets appear at the end.
He didn’t explain as he shucked his house shoes and laid down, leaving a large, grown-man sized space in front of him. It was only when Regulus didn’t move that James sighed, and gave the mattress a pat. “Lily’s going to be reading potion’s texts all night. There’s no sense in wasting the hours I could be sleeping, and there’s no sense in you sleeping alone if you don’t have to. I’ve been told I give great cuddles.”
Regulus stared at him so long, James was certain he was about to be hexed, or at the very least, abandoned. Then, with a wave of his hand, Regulus put out the lights, and carefully crawled into the space James made. They weren’t quite touching, even as James pulled the duvet over them and settled in. And then, after a long moment, Regulus carefully leant the side of his body against James.
James let his arm shift, his body turning toward Regulus, his hand falling at his waist. “Is this okay?”
Regulus swallowed audibly. “I think so. I’ve never...” He stopped and let out a shaking breath. “The only time I’ve ever shared a bed was for…it wasn’t like this.”
James heard a novel of story in that confession, and he was terrified what it meant. “Well it’s like this now.”
Regulus nodded against James’ shoulder, so James tucked him a little closer and pushed his nose between Regulus’ shoulder blades. Regulus stiffened, then said, “I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what you want.”
James squeezed his eyes shut. “I want to help. I want to be near you. I don’t really know either—not exactly. I just know that I feel good here. Right now. With you.”
“Oh,” Regulus breathed out.
James carried on. “Only if you want it. This isn’t something you have to give me, if you don’t want it too. You don’t owe me anything, alright? Please just…”
“James,” Regulus said, his voice a little tense. “I’ve figured that out by now. I don’t…I know you stuck your neck out for me and it’s still on the line—I have to behave or it’s your arse. But I don’t think I have to…” He stopped, clearing his throat. “I want to be here too.”
James couldn’t stop his smile. “Okay.”
“What does Lily…”
“She all but threw me out here to do this,” James confessed.
There was another long pause before Regulus said, “I have a feeling we need to talk. Proper talk.”
“Probably,” James murmured.
“I think I’m a bit too tired for that now,” he confessed.
James’ smile widened. “Okay.”
Regulus’ arm tightened over James’, and after what felt like an eternity, their breathing evened out, and they both slept.
***
James could hear the chatter of his children downstairs, and Lily’s voice a little stern as she attempted to get them started on their breakfast. It felt strange to wake somewhere that wasn’t his. To smells that didn’t belong to him, or Lily, or the kids. But the warm body pressed against his, the arms tucked round his waist, the half-open mouth breathing puffs of air against his collarbone—that was something he wouldn’t give up for anything.
Or well, almost anything.
His hand wandered, sluggish and sleepy, brushing through the hair at the nape of Regulus’ neck. He felt Regulus stir after a moment, felt him wake almost startled, his entire body tense until he realised where he was, and who was holding him. James understood it was a bit of a crap-shoot. Regulus had been through enough, there was no telling how he’d react to strange arms holding him in place.
But this morning was one of the better ones. This morning he seemed to come to himself quickly, and relaxed, melting against James’ chest.
“I didn’t think you’d stay all night,” Regulus muttered, his voice heavy and hoarse with sleep.
James huffed a laugh, nosing through the top of Regulus’ hair. “You think I’d miss the chance to see you like this?”
“Like what?” Regulus asked.
James pulled back just slightly, just enough to tip a finger under Regulus’ chin and draw his gaze up. He looked soft, sweet in the morning light with puffy eyes, the colour stormy and more blue than Sirius’ ever were. “Gorgeous,” James confessed, and delighted in the way it made Regulus’ cheeks go bright pink. “I mean, you’re always gorgeous, but I don’t think I’d ever get tired of your face being one of the first I see when I wake up every morning.”
“That’s,” Regulus said. He stopped, swallowed thickly, then whispered, “What are we doing here, Potter? What is this?”
James licked is lips, letting his hand move from Regulus’ chin to his cheek, palming it. “If you don’t want me to touch you…”
Regulus scoffed, almost bitter. “I’m plastered against you in my bed. I clung to you all night, Potter.” He looked at him, eyes sharply focused. “James,” he said then, like he was trying it out.
James tried to ignore the thrill that shot up his spine at the curl of his name on Regulus’ tongue, but it was near impossible. “Regulus,” he said back.
Regulus’ cheeks went even pinker. “Please don’t toy with me.”
“I’m not…I’d never,” James stammered. His palm pressed harder, possessive. “I fancy you. I haven’t fancied anyone like this in a long time. Since Lils. And she thinks she feels the same way. And the both of us don’t have any expectations at all. We want you to feel safe, and feel loved, and if you want to keep things platonic with us that’s…of course that’s okay. We want whatever you’ll give.”
“But,” Regulus pressed.
James shook his head. “But nothing. That’s it. Just that.”
Regulus kept his gaze. “But,” he insisted, “you want to kiss me.”
James felt his own cheeks heat up, and he rolled his eyes away from Regulus’ intense stare. “Bloody hell, man. Of course I want to kiss you. Have you seen you? I’m—mmpfph!” James’ words were cut off by the press of Regulus’ lips against his own.
It was sloppy, unpractised, sleepy from their long night, and a little sour from neither of them having done anything about their teeth. But it was also one of the sweetest, most wanted kisses James had ever had. The shock had him frozen, but as he felt Regulus stiffen and try to pull back, James reacted. He put his other hand to Regulus’ cheek, cradling his face with all the tenderness he could manage, his thumbs brushing the skin gently as his mouth moved, letting the kiss go as deep as Regulus wanted.
Eventually he pulled back with a series of careful, gentle pecks along Regulus’ bottom lip, at the corners of his mouth. Regulus lay there, glassy-eyed, stunned, his fingers curled in James’ sleep shirt so tight his knuckles had gone yellow-white with the strain.
James carefully rubbed his thumb over Regulus’ cheek. “Alright?”
Regulus hummed, then nodded, then hummed again. “I…”
James let out a tiny laugh, brushing his fingers along Regulus’ puffy mouth as he drew away. “It wasn’t too much?”
Regulus shook his head, then breathed out a startled laugh. “That was good.” He sounded surprised by it, and James, for a moment, wasn’t sure whether or not he should be insulted by that until Regulus said, “That was my first erm. Well.”
“Your first kiss?” James asked, eyes wide.
Regulus turned his face away. “Sort of.”
“It doesn’t matter. I swear it doesn’t, but are you…”
“I’m not a virgin,” Regulus said, and there was a tension in the words that frightened James.
He kept in close, holding Regulus carefully as he asked, “Voluntarily?”
Regulus didn’t meet his eyes as his head shook. “I. Well. No.”
James felt rage ripping through him like he’d never felt before. He stamped down on it as quickly as he could manage, reminding himself that none of this was about him, and Regulus was choosing to trust him with this and he would not get all James about it. He forced himself to recall when he’d attempted to intervene on Lily’s behalf at school after she told him to leave it, and he’d ignored her. The betrayal on her face wasn’t something he wanted a repeat of. Ever. From anyone.
He took in a shaking breath. “Anything—everything—we do will be your choice,” he said, trying to control his tone. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We can be kissing or…or…whatever. Anything else, and you can say stop, and we stop. I need you to know that this is…”
Regulus quieted him with another soft kiss, drawn out but just as chaste. James felt his fingers go warm by the time Regulus pulled back. “Thank you, Potter. I think I’ve figured that bit out already.”
James was helpless against the affection rushing through him, helpless to the smile spreading across his lips. “Your brother is going to murder me in my bed, by the way.”
Regulus scoffed, rolling onto his back, away from James, but still close enough to feel his body heat. “He’ll be just as likely to murder me for having the gall to be a Death Eater, then come and seduce his best friend.”
“Is that what this is, a seduction?” James asked.
“Stop trying to wind me up, you arse,” Regulus said, smacking him with the back of his hand.
James couldn’t begin to describe the feeling of triumph, that Regulus felt comfortable enough, happy enough, to take the piss with him like this. “Either way, they’ll be here for Halloween. I want to tell them.”
“About what?” Regulus asked, and he turned onto his side, propping his head up on his arm. “What is this, exactly. You said Lily was okay with it but…”
“She is. She fancies you just as much as I do but we don’t need to know all of it right now.”
“You know people will think very unfriendly things if they find out,” Regulus said, staring down at his hand which he’d splayed out on the mattress between them.
James tipped his chin up again, meeting his eyes. “I have never, nor will I ever, give a single flying shit what the rest of the wizarding world thinks of what I do. I know what’s right, and I know what makes me happy, and I’m not going to conform for the comfort of others.”
“I can see why Remus trusted you with his secret then,” Regulus said.
James felt the blood drain from his face. “What do you…Remus…secret…I don’t…”
Regulus rolled his eyes. “Bloody hell, relax, will you? I’ve known since first year he’s a werewolf.”
James felt his throat go tight, and he managed to get out, “How?” with a quiet squeak.
Regulus snorted. “First of all, you lot have never been subtle. Not once in your lives. Furry little problem? Potter…seriously.”
James flushed. “Well I…I was thirteen! What do you want from me?”
“Something better than that. It’s amazing people actually bought the story of…what was it? A poorly behaved rabbit?”
James groaned, turning his face into the pillow. He smiled when he felt Regulus’ fingers dig into the thick hair at the back of his head.
“I never told anyone,” he finished quietly. “Not even Snape. Not even when he came back ranting about some deadly secret the lot of you had. He was trying to goad me into giving him information—assumed Sirius had told me when we were younger.”
James growled into his pillow. “If I could go back and hex him again…”
“Yes well, he’s rotting in Azkaban with the rest of them, so that’ll have to suffice for your thirst for revenge,” Regulus said mildly.
James sighed, turning his face toward Regulus. “He tried to bargain for her, you know. Snape. He went to Dumbledore and told him he tried to bargain my life—Harry’s life—for hers. Voldemort didn’t give in. The end of his sentence is less than six months away.” James squeezed his eyes shut. “Reduced, for the information he provided during the war.”
Regulus dragged his hand from the back of James’ head to his cheek, and he rested it there. “He won’t come near you.”
James nodded, but he took Regulus’ hand and tugged on it, pressing it over the beat of his heart. “I worry. I worry constantly that someone will get out, they’ll come for her—for Harry, for Ash. For you,” he added in quiet tones. “For defecting, for daring to defy that maniac.” He breathed out a shaking sigh. “I can’t be round all the time and I just…”
“You have to trust that we can protect ourselves, and the children,” Regulus said.
It felt strange that in all this, it would be Regulus to comfort him. But James would take it—of course he would take it. He pulled Regulus’ hand from his heart, to his mouth, and pressed kisses to his palm, to the tips of his fingers.
“Thank you for trusting me with your heart.”
Regulus’ smile was soft, but genuine as he pulled James in closer. “Thank you for believing I had one.”
***
She’d been watching him for the better part of ten minutes, and it was at the end of her patience that she stepped away from the shadowy walls and called his name. “Regulus?”
He didn’t jump, didn’t startle, telling Lily he’d probably been aware of her presence the entire time. The side of his jaw stiffened, and he let out a breath.
“Regulus,” she said again. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”
The left corner of his mouth twitched up, just a fraction, but it was enough to let her know he was okay. As okay as he could be, in any case. She truly hadn’t expected this to happen at all, let alone before they’d all sat down for Halloween and celebrated the anniversary of the tide turning, and the Order regaining the upper hand in the war. Halloween was to be the first time Regulus had seen Sirius properly since his release, and it was meant to soften the blow of things like this.
Of Regulus coming back here, to his childhood home, to go through his things.
Lily had only brought it up as an afterthought, and she knew James had conveyed the message whilst she was away taking her Potions’ Master entrance exam. Now she was all nerves, waiting on the owl with her results, and doing anything to distract her from the wait.
This, however, felt far less like a distraction and far more like giving in to the desperate desire to comfort Regulus and protect him from anything else in the world that would bring him pain. They’d all had plenty, but he’d suffered enough for twenty people. Lily’s protective streak was ten miles wide, and she wasn’t ashamed of it.
She stepped closer, and very carefully, offered her hand. Regulus stared down at it, and just when she was sure he’d pull away, he let their fingers tangle together.
“I know what I’m going to find in there,” he muttered. “I know Kreacher hasn’t moved a thing, I know my mother wouldn’t have dared touch it. But it’s…” He trailed off, and didn’t finish his sentence.
She shifted up closer to him, wrapping an arm round his waist, and she hid her smile against his side when he tucked her in close. “You know you can just let it go, right? Sirius will happily get rid of everything in there, and you never have to think of it again.”
Regulus snorted a laugh. “Oh I know. I know he’s been desperate to do that since he took possession of the house.” He dragged his free hand down his face, then turned to look at her. He was only a few inches taller, but she had hunched close to him, and she found herself looking up and getting lost in his stormy eyes. Her breath caught in her chest.
She knew Regulus and James had already crossed this threshold. They’d been intimate when she was away, and a few times since she’d come back. She’d poked her head round corners in the cottage and seen James holding Regulus tenderly by the face, kissing him long, and slow, and deep. It stirred something in her, but more than that she knew she would be satisfied with whatever Regulus wanted from her.
She just wanted him here, in their lives.
He twisted against her arm, then brought a hand to her cheek. Clearly he’d learnt a few moves from James, and the thought of it made her smile.
“Do you want to give me a kiss for luck?” she offered.
He licked his lips, then closed his eyes and with a heavy breath, he nodded. “More than anything,” he whispered.
She pushed onto her toes, grabbing him by the collar, and doing just that. He seemed to sag under the relief of not having to make the choice himself, of letting her take charge and giving them both what they desperately wanted.
He kissed similar to James, but enough of his own that it made her smile against his lips. It felt right, perfect, like a piece had been missing and now here it was. She curled one hand up into his hair, and drew it out and out until he finally pulled back, a little breathless as he pushed their foreheads together.
“Will you go in with me?” he murmured.
“Of course I will,” she said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.
And truly, it was.
***
James snorted a laugh as he watched Harry attempt to put the kitten on the back of his toy broom, pouting when it wasn’t working out the way he’d wanted. They were in the lounge, Remus somewhere in the kitchen putting together something that vaguely resembled the old Hogwarts Halloween feasts. Regulus and Sirius were upstairs sorting through some of the boxes Regs and Lily had brought home. Ash was sleeping in the travel cot set up near the fire, and Harry was determined to get this kitten to obey him.
It was domestic, and it was perfect. It didn’t feel like Halloweens past. It felt new, and a little raw, but perfect.
Lily turned her head into his neck and kissed him just under his ear. “I want to stop after this year,” she said.
James blinked owlishly at her. “Stop what?”
“This. Celebrating. I mean, it’s not something we’re going to forget, obviously. But we have all the good bits now. We have Regulus home, and everyone safe and happy and alive. Our kids are growing up, the world is safe. I want to feel like we’re moving forward.”
James leant in close, brushing a few hairs back away from her temple, and kissed the tip of her nose. “I know what you mean. And I agree. Next year will be different anyway. We’ll be back in London, Regs will be living with us, the kids will be older.” He closed his eyes and let his nose rest against her cheek. “This feels right.”
“Good,” she murmured, and kissed him on the corner of his mouth.
A door slammed up the stairs, and a moment later Sirius bounded down, winking at the pair of them before hurtling himself into the kitchen to harass Remus. James grinned at Remus’ indignant squawk, but he was distracted a moment later when Regulus—still a little shy, still a little unsure—shuffled into the room.
Regulus paused to give the small kitten a scratch between the ears, then carefully approached the sofa. James allowed the hesitance for only a moment before seizing his hand and dragging him down to the cushions to be enveloped into a firm embrace. He tiled Regulus’ face by the chin, kissing him sweet and slow.
“I can hear the snogging and if it’s not done by the time I get in there so help me…” Sirius shouted from the kitchen.
“Consider it payback for everything you and Moony put me through from sixth year on,” James called back, then kissed Regulus again for good measure.
Regulus was pink in the cheeks, looking stunned each time he was showered with affection. But he let out a pleased hum when Lily took his hand, and didn’t freeze up when Harry finally got bored of the kitten and clambered into his lap, demanding Regulus read him from one of their storybooks.
James felt his heart swell a thousand times bigger. The people he loved most who still lived in the world were under this roof. And it wouldn’t last, of course. They were moving on. Remus would get a job teaching, Lily would do great things in the world of potions. James and Sirius would go back to work, ensuring the rest of the world remained safe. Regulus would find his way, find his passion. Harry and Ashima would grow up loved and cared for by three parents, two godparents, and a world without a Dark Lord in it.
There would be starts and stops. Endings and beginnings. But as he glanced up at the half moon floating in the sky on that Halloween night, James knew things could have been worse. Maybe in another universe they were. But as he tugged Regulus and Lily close to him, he let himself bask in the thought that whatever else might be out there, he had this.
And this was the only thing he would ever need.
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