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Gryffindor is winning by seventy points.
But James, along with everyone else – on and off the pitch – is well aware that those points don’t stand a chance against Slytherin if James isn’t the one to catch the snitch.
Which, considering he hasn’t managed to catch a glimpse of the damn golden ball all match, is something that’s beginning to look less and less likely.
He’s about to spin around and take another lap of the grounds, keeping his eyes peeled whilst still shouting instructions and encouragement towards his teammates, when there’s a sudden flash of green to his right.
Regulus flies by, pressed low to his broom, at a speed that has the wind whistling through James’ hair.
It was unexpected, sure, what with Regulus keeping his distance from James all match (like he always does, his Quidditch tactics are strange but he’s got enough wins behind him for nobody to question them anymore). Not being one to dawdle, though, especially during a game, James hurries to follow after Regulus.
As he pulls up alongside the boy, he finally catches sight of the snitch flitting around in front of them, just far enough out of arm’s reach to keep them holding their breaths.
But then, out of nowhere, the snitch swerves, ducks, and spirals underneath them both – fast enough that if James had blinked in that second he would have missed it.
Now, James is good but he isn’t that good. There’s absolutely no way he could’ve followed closely after the ball, not without losing some distance. Unless he fancied falling off of his broom again.
Regulus, however…
Well, Regulus might actually be better than James.
Not that James would ever admit that. It’s kind of hard to deny, though, when the young Seeker jerks his broom into a steep nosedive, his eyes trained on the snitch’s every move as he follows after it, much like a predator chasing its prey. James can do no more than tail after him, pushing down the strange bubble of something that he feels in his chest.
It’s to no use, of course.
Regulus slams forward, gaining an extra few inches advantage (like he didn’t already have a head start over James), his arm outstretched far enough that James briefly worries for the boy’s safety, before he folds in on himself. There’s a terrifying second where Regulus doesn’t rise, and an eerie hush falls over the crowd, as everyone’s eyes are on the Slytherin.
A moment later, with a wide grin that James swears feels warmer than the sun itself, Regulus straightens himself on his broom. He lifts his hand high above his head, showing off his capture, and the stands erupt into deafening cheers.
James bites back his own smile, lowering himself back onto solid ground where his team awaits him.
He meets Sirius’ eyes across the rest of the team and notices the proud glint in his eyes. Sirius smiles, the happiness for his brother’s win overcoming the disappointment of them losing the game, and he steps forward to clap James on the back, his broom thrown over his shoulder.
“You almost had him,” Sirius says, good-naturedly. James hums, nodding, his eyes already drifting over the sea of students swarming the pitch in search of one particular person. He finds him, currently being lifted onto the shoulders of two sixth years, being showered in praises from his own team. Again, James finds himself fighting a smile.
“Commiseration drinks anybody?” Abernathy asks, receiving a chorus of eager agreements. The Gryffindors that had come down from the stands begin to head back towards dorms to set up – not that it’d take long – whilst James follows his now less disheartened teammates into the locker rooms.
Sirius, however, slings an arm around Remus the moment the boy makes his appearance. It earns him a frown of disgust as Remus tries to bat him off of him; not particularly fond of being mauled by a Sirius covered in mud and sweat. Not that Sirius cares, laughing loudly and planting a wet kiss on Remus’ cheek in retaliation.
Eventually, Remus gives in with a sigh.
“Save me a seat!” James shouts after his friends, not surprised that Sirius isn’t bothering to change before making a start on the celebrations (in fact, James probably won’t see Sirius or Remus for another hour or so, and when he does they’ll both be fresh out of the shower and in clean clothes anyway). Making a mental note to avoid his dorm room until then, James smiles when he gets a thumbs up in return from Sirius before he disappears into the locker rooms.
He’s in and out of the locker rooms in a flash. It’s not like he has classes after this, so he just throws on an old jumper and a pair of jeans that Remus got him for his birthday this year. Shoving his muddy Quidditch robes into his bag, running his hand hastily through his windswept hair, James is the first one out of there.
The sun has finally emerged out from behind the clouds, casting a warm glow over the grounds. James lets out a long sigh, tilting his face up towards the rays of light and smiling to himself. It’s only now, as the adrenaline eases out of his body, that the aches are beginning to settle into his muscles.
As he turns to head towards the entrance doors, James’ eyes land on a familiar figure leaning against a nearby tree. He’s far enough from the building to not be disturbed – James’ presence not included – but close enough that he’s not outwardly avoiding people. James snickers, altering his route.
Regulus doesn’t notice his approach, his attention fixated on a singular leaf that he’s causing to swirl and swoop through the air by his feet, his wand held in a loose grip. It’s an oddly mundane thing for James to witness, cute almost.
He doesn’t know where that thought came from, but once it’s there James can’t seem to shift it from his mind. Regulus is kind of cute, he supposes. If you like the silent, sarcastic type.
“Nice catch earlier.” he says in lieu of a greeting, shouldering his bag.
Regulus jolts at the sound of his voice, the leaf plummeting to the grass. His head snaps up, eyes finding James’ almost instantly, and James watches with mild curiosity as a myriad of emotions cloud over his face.
Perhaps most interesting, is the dark flush that James can see slowly creeping up the side of Regulus’ neck.
“Yeah, well…” Regulus stammers, waving his hand in James’ vague direction and shrugging in an attempt to seem unbothered. James isn’t so easily fooled. “Wasn’t hard.” he finishes lamely, and James would laugh if his stomach wasn’t doing weird somersaults right now. He knows Regulus was insulting him (nothing new there then; their few interactions usually consist of barely playful jabs at one another) but, with the way that Regulus is staring at him almost quizzically, as if James’ earlier compliment had thrown him off guard, it’s difficult for James to be offended by it.
James shakes his head, almost fondly, and finds himself smiling at the ground. Which, okay, that’s definitely new. What is going on with him today? Why does he suddenly feel like he’s been transported back to fourth year, flirting (and failing miserably) with Lily?
This is Regulus, for Merlin’s sake! Sirius’ younger brother! James’ heart had absolutely no right in speeding up like it is right now.
Clearing his throat, and pushing his drifting thoughts to the back of his head to think about later – which, honestly, by now he should know is a bad idea because his mouth runs wild when he’s not concentrating wholly on the present – James offers Regulus a genuine smile. “Whatever, gorgeous. Just don’t forget about us lowlifes when you end up on the cover of Seeker Weekly.”
It’s only when Regulus’ eyes widen, spluttering in response to James, that James even realises what he said.
Oh…no.
What’s worse is he doesn’t even regret it. Not when Regulus is blushing furiously like he is right now, because all James can feel is an odd sense of pride that he was the cause of that adorable pink flush now high on Regulus’ cheeks.
Deciding to own his slip-up, James smirks lazily at Regulus and hitches his bag to a more comfortable position on his shoulder. As he walks by the smaller boy, James reaches out to ruffle his dark hair, chuckling lowly at the way Regulus grumbles and ducks away from his hand.
“See you later, Reggie.” he calls over his shoulder, silently realising that perhaps he won’t be able to wait until later to think about these unexpected new feelings.
“Shut up, Potter.” Regulus snaps back but, for the first time, there’s no bite in his words.
James only smiles wider.
°•♡•☆•♡•°
James is lost in his head, the peaceful quiet of the old Charms classroom giving him a space to think that the Gryffindor common room wasn’t offering. He’s only trying to write a letter home to his parents, something nice for his mother’s birthday, but the rest of the seventh years were having a rather rowdy game of snap and he needed to get out of there for a bit.
The marauder’s map sits at the corner of the desk so he can keep an eye on the professors still wandering the corridors. For now, he’s in the clear.
And, besides, he has the invisibility cloak slung over the arm of his chair just in case.
For all of his precautions, though, James isn’t prepared for the door to creak open.
He most definitely isn’t prepared for a familiar dark-haired Slytherin to slip into the room, either.
With a start, James pushes himself from the desk, quickly tucking the map away. His sudden movements cause his chair to scrape, rather intrusively, against the tiled floor though, bringing notice to his presence in the room. He may as well have shone a giant spotlight over his head and shout out, “Hey, look at me over here!”
Sighing, James drops his quill back into the pot of ink.
Regulus swivels on his heels, fast enough that James worries he might give himself whiplash, and sets his glare on James.
“Potter,” he spits out, face set hard as stone and unreadable, as usual, “you shouldn’t be here.”
James doesn’t know what he expected, he and Regulus have never particularly been on friendly terms; they talk, but it’s usually bickering or snide remarks. Whatever happened between them the other day didn’t need to be some big deal, switching up their…relationship (if that’s what one would call it).
So, why did James secretly hope that it had?
Pushing down the disappointment rising in his chest, James leans back in his chair and quirks a brow, opting for casual disinterest. “Neither should you.” he points out, before lifting a finger to tap at his badge. “Besides, I’m Head Boy, unless you forgot.”
Regulus scoffs, taking a slow step further into the room and allowing the door to finally fall closed behind him. “Like you would ever let anyone forget.”
James shrugs. “Bit of pride never hurt anyone.”
The sound Regulus makes in response almost sounds like a laugh. He pulls out a chair from the desk next to the one James has claimed, dropping a heavy book down and smirking over at James. “Sounds like something a Slytherin would say.” he teases, tilting his head slightly. The action sends a strange thrill through James and he bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling like some fool.
Chuckling softly under his breath, James stares up at the ceiling and runs a hand through his hair. He lets them sit in silence for a short while, the gentle sound of pages turning drifting over from Regulus’ desk. It’s oddly nice. Sitting. With Regulus.
Which is such a bizarre thought for James to have, something that he could never have imagined himself thinking, and yet he can’t bring himself to correct it. Because it is nice; there’s an unexpected tranquillity in the air, considering the two of them barely get along and are now willingly sharing a room. Alone. Together.
“So,” he speaks to the ceiling, keeping his voice low, “what brings you into an abandoned classroom after curfew?”
Regulus doesn’t answer right away, instead choosing to finish reading whatever it is he’s so engrossed in. But, when he does, his voice is equally as soft. “I needed my own space.” There’s an almost undetectable hint of vulnerability in his tone, as though he’s not entirely sure why he’s even telling James this – as though James might, for whatever reason, use this honesty against him.
It pains James; to remember how Sirius used to be so distrusting too.
“Me too.” James eventually settles on replying, finally dropping his gaze back down to Regulus only to find the younger boy already looking his way. It’s a slight strain to see him properly, the only light coming from the small candle James lit when he first entered the room. Despite the dark, Regulus meets his eyes, sucking the corner of his lower lip between his teeth as he seems to search James’ expression for a flicker of…something. He must find what he’s looking for - or maybe the opposite, since he looks kind of surprised when he relaxes in his chair and nods slowly.
When the corner of Regulus’ mouth twitches upwards into the barest hint of a smile, James can’t help but return it, feeling that same sense of pride that he had the other day. Less smug this time, though. James is just happy to have earnt a smile from Regulus, not particularly pleased that he’s the cause of said smile.
Although that is a bonus.
Regulus’ smile grows as something passes over his face, turning into a wicked smirk, and James curses the curl of heat he feels in the pit of his stomach as that expression is turned on him. “What?” Regulus’ voice is playful, not malicious, and James is yet again taken by surprise by this boy, “Sirius finally driven you up the wall?”
James snorts, shaking his head before outright laughing. “Oh, that happened years ago! But I love him, so I have to accept that he’s a bit…”
“-overwhelming?” Regulus prompts, smirk only growing wider. “C’mon, you can say it,” Regulus goads, a glint in his eyes, “Sirius is like a damn puppy dog sometimes.”
And that, well, that has James curling in on himself in a fit of laughter. “You have no idea!”
“You should’ve seen him when I’d get ill.” Regulus suddenly says, his book now completely forgotten as he leans one arm on his desk, keeping his chin propped up in the palm of his hand. He shakes his head, a fond smile now settled on his lips. A single curl of dark hair slips free, dropping to frame the side of his face, and James has the unexpected urge to reach out and tuck it back behind his ear. “He’d sit at the foot of my bed and force feed me soup. Mother always shouted at him for it, but it’d never stop him from sneaking into my room again in the middle of the night with bread and butter he stole from the kitchen.”
James hums, his fingers dancing over the top of his desk. “That sounds like Sirius.”
“Yeah,” Regulus’ face grows serious then and he bites his bottom lip, “he practically raised me when we were kids.” A frown settles above his brows, and yet again James wants nothing more than to reach out to touch him, to smooth the wrinkle away under the pad of his thumb.
Instead, James opts for reminding Regulus that – even if they don’t speak as often anymore – his brother still cares deeply about him. Holding Regulus’ gaze for a moment, long enough to make sure Regulus knows that he’s being truthful, James says, “He’d still die for you, even now, y’know?” When Regulus shakes his head, the frown only getting deeper, James sighs and shuffles his chair an inch closer. “He was so proud of you the other day, after that match? Wouldn’t shut up about that catch all damn night. Anyone would think he was a Slytherin, the way he was going on.”
That seems to spark something in Regulus. Pride? Relief? James isn’t entirely sure. But the younger boy smiles, a hopeful look taking over his previous guilt. “Really?”
James smiles, nodding. “Oh, yeah. He’s always bragging about his ‘super smart, baby brother’.” James uses air quotes as he repeats Sirius’ words – which he’s heard all too many times.
Through the low light, James watches as the words ignite a light flush over Regulus’ cheeks and the Slytherin ducks his head to hide his smile. Something that causes James to frown, because Regulus shouldn’t be ashamed of his smile; it’s soft and sweet and beautiful in a way that James somehow never anticipated. But now that he’s realised it, he wants to do all he can to make the boy smile more often.
“For what it’s worth,” James starts, prompting Regulus to glance back up at him. James takes a shaky breath, carefully thinking over his next words, and wets his lips. “I was pretty proud too.”
Regulus actually does a double take at that. “You? Why?”
James shrugs. Truthfully, he doesn’t really know why.
So he says as much, because James Potter is a lot of things but a liar isn’t one of them.
Regulus regards him with a calculating look and James has a sudden wave of nerves. Maybe he’s said too much, or the wrong thing. That wouldn’t be so far-fetched for him.
But then Regulus laughs. A joyous sound that rings right through James, sparks up even the coldest parts of his soul, furls around his heart, warm and lingering. It’s intoxicating.
“You’re an enigma, James Potter.” The amused tilt in his smile is one that James has a feeling he won’t be forgetting anytime soon.
Taking a mock bow, rising from his seat, James flashes back his most charming smile. “Why thank you, darling.”
A peaceful quiet settles between them again, Regulus still chuckling a little under his breath, and the pull to stay is so strong that James almost gives in. But it’s late now, and he has early morning rounds tomorrow. He really should go.
With an inward sigh, James gathers his things. He can feel Regulus’ eyes on him as he does so and, this time, he isn’t surprised to turn around and find the younger boy looking his way. For a split second, James thinks he sees his own disappointment reflected in the grey, until Regulus blinks and it’s gone.
“Leaving so soon?”
James offers him a tight smile, grabbing the invisibility cloak before he forgets it.
“‘fraid so,” he taps his badge for the second time that night, “duty calls.”
Regulus rolls his eyes, “You’re such a suck up.”
James only smirks. “Says the nerd who brought a brick for a book.” Regulus just laughs again, dipping his chin and blinking up at James through his lashes. And, Merlin, James doesn’t think it was intentional but, under this soft light, the action makes him look gorgeous beyond words.
He’s screwed, isn’t he?
Well, in for a penny in for a pound – that’s the saying, right? He vaguely remembers Lily explaining it to him once. So, not letting himself think too much about it, James takes a step closer to Regulus and reaches his hand out, ruffling the boy’s (unfairly soft) curls and laughing when Regulus lets out an indignant sound but does little more than bat uselessly at James’ arm.
“See you around, Black.” he says, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he heads towards the door.
On his way out, he’s fairly certain he hears Regulus mutter a not-very-spiteful, “Bloody Potter.”
°•☆•♡•☆•°
“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.” James says, sidling up to one of the trees lining the lake. The only tree with an occupant; everyone else is either soaking up the afternoon rays with their friends or catching up on homework in the library.
Regulus glances up from his spot in the shade, squinting as the sun dazzles him from over James’ shoulder. James moves an inch to the side, blocking the worst of the sunlight, and he’s sure that he receives a mildly grateful smile in return.
Cocking his head to the side, Regulus lifts a singular, perfectly arched brow. “I’m starting to think these meetings are less coincidence than you make them out to be.”
James rolls his eyes, reluctantly pulling his hand out from his pocket (where the map remains thankfully hidden). “Wishful thinking, Reggie.” he teases, moving to slide down next to Regulus.
To his credit, Regulus doesn’t flinch from the close contact. Not even when James’ hand accidentally falls on his knee as he tries to keep his balance. Trying his best to keep his smile under control, ignoring the flurry of butterflies he gets in his stomach, James inches closer still until he and Regulus are practically pressed shoulder to toe. Sharing the tree as a backrest is a good cover, James thinks but, surprisingly, Regulus doesn’t even question him.
He does, however, move his hand to cover up whatever book he had resting on his lap, his knees bent up slightly to keep it secure.
James leans in, peering over the boy’s shoulder. “What’s that?”
Regulus doesn’t look at him, choosing to focus his gaze on the lake in front of them. “Nothing important.”
James sighs playfully, nudging his elbow into Regulus’ side. “Oh, c’mon, we’re friends now, Reg! You can share your big, dark secrets with me.”
“Friends?” Regulus questions, this time raising both brows as he finally meets James’ gaze. There’s something light in his eyes, though. He has a mischievousness about him, something almost flirtatious in his smirk, and James finds himself wondering, not for the first time, how he missed this side to Regulus before now.
Putting on a pout, James offers Regulus his best puppy-dog eyes. “Awe, what?! Are we not friends? Reggie, I don’t believe you! How could you do this to me, you’re breaking my hear-.”
“Alright!” Regulus cuts him off, shoving his hand over James’ mouth with a laugh. “Shut up before you draw a crowd over!”
James can’t help himself from wiggling his eyebrows and leering at Regulus. “What, you don’t wanna put a show on for them?”
“Merlin’s beard, you are insufferable!”
“And you,” James leans in, enough to hear the quiet hitch in Regulus’ breathing, before booping the Slytherin’s nose, “are adorable!” The statement is only proven to be true when, as expected by now, a familiar pink dusting covers Regulus’ pale cheeks. Whilst Regulus is briefly distracted, James uses it to his advantage and reaches out to snatch the book from the boy’s lap.
“Hey!” Regulus cries out, going to grab it back, but James holds it high over his head. A tiny growl emits from the back of Regulus’ throat but he settles back down against the tree, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring up at James with as unimpressed a look that he can muster up.
James ignores him; he’s learnt fairly quickly in this past week that Regulus is very much all bark and no bite – quite like his brother, really. So, with a smug grin, he flips open the book.
And, subsequently, his mind goes blank. Or, perhaps, it’s suddenly too full.
Because what he finds on the pages inside takes him by surprise; page after page of sketches, done in delicate strokes, love and care obvious in each drawing.
“I-” Regulus’ voice sounds quiet, unsure, but James doesn’t want to hear his excuses.
“These are amazing.” he whispers, tracing a fingertip along the edge of the lake on the most recent drawing. Regulus must have been working on this one before James joined him.
Looking up from the sketchbook, he meets Regulus’ eyes and frowns as he recognises the insecurity in them. Without thinking, James leans against Regulus’ shoulder, shuffling to flick through the sketches again.
“Seriously, these are incredible.” he repeats. “I didn’t know you drew?”
He feels Regulus shrug next to him, the movement jostling James slightly. A smile graces his lips as Regulus then relaxes into James, and he tries desperately not to think too much about how perfectly he would fit under his arm right now.
“I don’t really tell people.”
“You should.” James says, “These are nothing to be ashamed of.”
Instead of answering, Regulus merely hums quietly.
James turns the page again, still in awe over the pure talent of this boy. This boy, who can walk through the school and remain invisible whilst also holding a reputation that has at least half of the student body afraid of him. This boy, who James has known for years but yet only now feels as if he’s actually, truly, getting to know him. This boy, who is currently trusting James with a secret that he’s not even sure his own brother is privy to.
As his eyes take in the next drawing, James’ hand comes to a halt by the edge of the book.
It appears to be of the Quidditch pitch, during what he can only guess is a training session. Obviously not Slytherin because otherwise Regulus would be up there too.
In fact, the longer James examines it, the more familiar the person of interest in the drawing becomes. Those torn robes, the messy hair, the slightly bent (but still perfectly functional, thank you very much) broom.
James is struck dumb as he realises that this is a drawing of him.
“Regulus…” he breathes out, admiring the shading and attention to detail that’s gone into this particular sketch, so immaculate that he feels as though he could close his eyes and be back on that broom. Not that the others aren’t great, because they are, but this one seems different. Special.
Maybe he’s just being biased.
The fact that his heart is currently racing dangerously fast doesn’t help matters.
Regulus doesn’t say anything. What he does do, though, is lean in closer. His chin settles comfortably on James’ shoulder as he pulls his wand out of his robe, reaching over to tap it against the page.
James isn’t quite sure what he expected to happen. The miniature version of himself suddenly bursting into life – his cape fluttering behind him as he does a loop through the air – is definitely not it.
“Wow…” he watches, mesmerised for a second, vaguely aware of the warm breath ghosting over his cheek from where Regulus has yet to pull away.
Clearing his throat, James drags his eyes up to Regulus, causing the younger boy to shuffle back. He’s biting his lip, clearly wary over what James is about to say, and James has never wanted to kiss somebody’s worries away so badly.
Taking a deep breath, James pushes those thoughts down. He’s fairly certain Regulus wouldn’t appreciate being pounced on by him, a Gryffindor. His brother’s best friend, of all things!
But, as James holds Regulus’ gaze, he can’t help but wonder if he’s wrong. Especially when he says, “Reggie, your talent never fails to amaze me.” and Regulus responds with a bright grin that could challenge the sun itself.
“You’re just saying that to be nice,” Regulus tries to wave him off, obviously not used to receiving compliments. Well, that will have to change, James decides.
James shakes his head, taking Regulus’ hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. His hand is surprisingly warm, skin soft under the pad of James’ thumb as he smooths random patterns over Regulus’ knuckles. “Sweetheart,” he starts, meaning it to come out as a joke but sounding too earnest. The way that Regulus smiles again, though, only makes James want to say it again. “Trust me, I hate admitting anyone is better than me. Well, other than Remus. But that’s just because he really is a lot smarter than I am.”
Regulus chuckles, pressing his knee into James’. “You’re smarter in other ways.”
James smirks, “Now look who’s trying to be nice.”
“I’ll have you know that I am extremely nice!” Regulus scoffs, swatting at James’ arm. In retaliation, James reaches out and buries his hands in Regulus’ soft curls, ruffling them up with a laugh. Regulus grouses, trying to duck out of his hold. “What is your fascination with my damn hair?”
James shrugs, unable to wipe the smile from his face. Especially when Regulus straightens back up and his hair falls freely around his face. He watches in amusement as Regulus lets out a puff of air, sending a stray strand of hair flying out of his eyes. This time, unlike the other day, James doesn’t stop himself from tucking the strand behind Regulus’ ear, his hand lingering by the side of Regulus; face for a moment too long to be accidental.
Grey bores into hazel and oxygen suddenly can’t make its way to James’ lungs quick enough. Stroking his thumb along the high rise of Regulus’ cheekbone, marvelling at the way Regulus actually leans into his touch rather than pulls away, James’ voice is much quieter as he says, “You look cute when you keep it natural.”
Regulus is quiet for a moment, his teeth grazing over his lower lip in thought. James watches as a slow smirk eases over his face and he tilts his head to squint up at James. “Are you saying I don’t look cute all the time?”
The urge to correct his mistake, to assure Regulus (for whatever reason) that he, of course, is always cute, is strong. But something in the way Regulus is smiling at him tells him that he might already know this.
Besides, their whole friendship – or whatever you want to call it – up until now has been one everlasting game. One that James is enjoying quite a lot, if he’s being entirely honest with himself.
So, instead of rising to Regulus’ bait, James matches his smirk and shakes his head. “You clearly never look in the mirror after your Quidditch games.” That earns him a sharp jab in the ribs, but it’s worth it for the laugh that escapes Regulus’ mouth. James grins. “Should’ve seen yourself after the match with Hufflepuff! Mud stuck in your hair, robes clinging to you with rainwater and sweat. You looked like a bloody drowned rat!”
Regulus makes an affronted noise, gaping at James with a mildly betrayed look. But James can see him fighting back a smile, which only causes his own to widen. “Honestly, Potter, anyone would think you were interested in me, the way you clearly obsess over me.”
James bites his lip, casting his eyes to the grass for a second. “Maybe they wouldn’t be wrong.” he says in a low voice, hardly believing that he actually let the words out.
He almost thinks that perhaps he didn’t, when Regulus doesn’t respond long enough to make James panic and look back up.
When he does, though, he finds Regulus looking at him with a stunned disbelief in his eyes. Something else, too. Something that looks an awful lot like hope, but James doesn’t dare believe that it is.
“You…” Regulus clears his throat, frowning slightly, but when he goes to speak again it isn’t is voice that James hears.
“Prongs!” Peter calls out, causing both James and Regulus to whip their heads around in the direction the voice came from. James’ heart sinks as he spots his friends walking over towards them, thinking he hears Regulus moving by his side.
He lifts his hand in acknowledgement and then turns, before they can get too close, to look back at Regulus. “Sorry,” he says, an awkward tension lingering in the air between them now. He’s not sure if it’s because of the unexpected presence of the others or because of their earlier conversation. He hopes it’s the former.
Since Regulus offers him an understanding smile, James feels pretty confident that he’s right in these hopes. “You should go.” Regulus tells him, closing his sketchbook back up (James isn’t sure when he took that back but he figures now isn’t the time to question that).
Pushing himself to his feet, James glances over his shoulder at his fast approaching friends. “You could join us, y’know?” he offers, but Regulus grimaces and shakes his head minutely.
“Maybe some other time.” he says, and James wouldn’t believe him if it wasn’t for the way Regulus taps his ankle against his own, almost like a silent pact. He smiles, feeling warm all over, and nods.
“Okay,” he takes a step back, still looking down at the Slytherin, and points a stern finger his way, “I’ll hold you to that.”
Regulus doesn’t look surprised. “I didn’t expect anything less.” he snorts, and James seriously needs to get his heartbeat under control. He’s going to have to check himself into the hospital wing at this rate.
Before he can say anything that he’ll kick himself over later, James forces himself to walk away, resisting every urge to look back over his shoulder. He really doesn’t fancy the questions that will raise with his friends, Sirius in particular. He’s already sure he’ll get the fifth degree just for being caught talking with Regulus without his brother present.
Not that he can’t handle Sirius’ interrogations. Besides, it’s not like he and Regulus were actually doing anything other than talking.
When James finally gets back to his dorm room, the sun now long gone and a rather fun surprise awaiting Professor Binns in the morning, he’s just about ready to collapse in his bed.
Which he would do if he didn’t put his hand in his pocket and end up pulling out something that he definitely did not have any recollection of putting there.
With a small frown, James carefully unfolds the parchment. When he realises what it is, recognising the figure flitting around the perfectly replicated Quidditch grounds, he’s not able to stop the splitting grin that takes over his face.
That sneaky bastard-
“Whatcha got there, Jamie?” Sirius asks, coming up behind him as he struggles to pull an oversized sweater on. James bites his lip, shaking his head fondly.
“Just a gift from a friend.”
“A friend, huh?” Sirius asks wickedly, teasing lilt in his voice as James moves around the side of his bed. “Hey, Moony! James here seems to think he has friends that aren’t us!”
From the bathroom, James can hear Remus’ muffled, “What? James? With friends?” around his toothbrush, followed by a laugh from the other two boys in the dorm. James rolls his eyes, more than used to his friends’ antics.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. As hard as it may be to believe, I do actually have a life outside of the three of you.”
Sirius snorts, flopping down on his bed and sprawling out like a starfish. “Sure you do, Prongs.”
James just flips him the bird, focusing most of his attention on smoothing out Regulus’ sketch before securing it to the wall above his bed. From this angle, James can just about make out a lightly written ‘R.A.B’ in the corner of the page and his heart swoops much like the miniature James in the picture does. With a smile, an unfamiliar warmth seeping through his veins and comforting him in a way he never knew possible, James settles into his own bed, memories of shy smiles and silver eyes following him into his dreams.
°•♡•☆•♡•°
Monday mornings are always a drag. James has said that since first year.
Today might just be one of the few Mondays that doesn’t feel quite as dreadful. Surrounded by his friends at the Gryffindor table, aimlessly pushing egg around his plate, James can’t help but glance across the Great Hall towards the Slytherin table. It doesn’t take long for him to pick out that familiar head of raven curls.
James watches with growing amusement as Regulus leans over his own table to steal something from one of the other Slytherin’s plates – Barty Crouch Jr. if he remembers correctly. Barty notices a second too late, lunging forward to snatch his toast back from Regulus’ hand, but Regulus is quicker; pulling away and holding it out of Barty’s reach, a wide grin spread across his face.
He looks gorgeous like this, early morning glow to his skin, his tie loose around his neck. A helpless sound escapes James’ throat, followed immediately by a dark flush as Remus sends him a look of concern. Ripping his eyes away from Regulus, James hastily shoves in a mouthful of egg and beans to avoid any unwanted questions.
He’s fine. He’s handling this all completely fine.
At least, he was. Until he chances another glance up and finds himself centre of Regulus’ attention. If he was embarrassed a moment ago, the way he chokes on his food and has to down half of his water in order to recover definitely does not help matters.
Regulus laughing, carefree and beautiful, isn’t much help either.
“You alright there, mate?” Sirius asks, sounding genuinely concerned about him. And, Merlin, if that doesn’t just make James feel worse. Because here he is, becoming a flustered mess, over Sirius own damn brother and he has no idea!
Although, if he did know, James isn’t so sure Sirius would lean over the table to pat his back. So maybe it’s for the best.
With a rough cough, James forces himself to nod. “Yeah,” he chokes out, “yeah, I’m good.”
Sirius doesn’t look so convinced, but he pulls back and returns to his breakfast. “So,” he starts, fixing James with a stern look that makes him itch in his seat. Picking a piece of bacon up from his plate, Sirius takes a small bite before continuing, “What do you think?”
James frowns, looking around the group and finding both Remus and Peter waiting for his reply. “What?”
Sirius rolls his eyes, wafting his bacon around as though that will somehow jog James’ memory of a conversation he very clearly missed. “Who would win?”
Pursing his lips, James begins to list every possible discussion the trio could’ve been having. Unfortunately, they often talk about pointless duels and competitions, and James knows that the Quidditch season hasn’t begun yet, so his mind comes up blank.
Seeming to sense his utter loss, Remus chips in, swiping some of Sirius’ bacon. “I reckon Longbottom has the advantage but Padfoot here seems to think that McKinnon is stronger.”
“She’s feisty!” Sirius protests, a point he’s clearly been stressing throughout this argument. Remus only smiles fondly at his boyfriend, taking another piece of bacon and merely sticking his tongue out at Sirius when he tries to stop him.
“I, uh-” James takes a long inhale, deciding between the two options and whatever imaginary scenario his friends have put them in. Clearly, no matter which he chooses, he’ll be wrong. But, as though he has his own guardian angel looking out for him, the mail suddenly arrives. It’s enough distraction to make his friends stop looking at him in expectation of an answer – at least for now.
Letting the others focus on their mail - Peter seems to have a letter from home and Remus’ copy of today’s Daily Prophet causes a small kerfuffle between him and Sirius as Sirius wrestles to grab the pages he wants – James sighs and turns his attention back to his breakfast. Which he’s barely touched.
The moment of peace doesn’t last long, though, because a small, tawny owl that he doesn’t recognise suddenly hops in front of him. Curious, James takes the piece of carefully folded parchment that it’s holding out to him, wondering if it’s somehow gotten the wrong student.
As he begins to unfold the note, which simply has ‘James Potter’ scrawled over the top so it must be for him, James offers the owl a piece of his sausage. The owl takes the food gladly, chirping in return before leaving as if it was never there.
Inside, written in a cursive that would make even Lily jealous, is a nothing more than the singular question, ‘Charms?’. It could mean anything. It could be from anybody.
And yet, as he lifts his head to find the person that he thinks sent it, any doubts in his mind are cleared instantly. Regulus is already getting up from his seat, his eyes fixed solely on James’ across the sea of heads between them, and James’ heart flutters uncontrollably as he sends Regulus a tiny nod in answer. He gets a wonderfully bright, if not brief, smile in return and that only causes James’ chest to tighten.
Merlin, what has he gotten himself into?
As he watches Regulus begin to leave, heading towards the large doors at the end of the hall, James jumps into action.
Pushing his, still full, plate away, he clambers to his feet. All three of his friends’ heads shoot up, each of them sending him questioning looks – which, okay fair enough; it’s not like James to be in a rush to get to classes any day, least of all a Monday.
“Forgot my Transfiguration essay.” he explains, not completely sure if they even had any homework assigned over the weekend. He doesn’t wait around long enough to find out, running a hand down his robes quickly to clear any crumbs and rushing out of the hall before anybody can say anything at all.
The moment he emerges out into the corridor, James’ eyes catch sight of a flash of robes disappearing around the corner that he knows leads to the old Charm classroom. He smirks, following with quick steps.
Regulus might be fast, but James has longer legs. He manages to catch up with the younger boy as he’s slipping into the empty classroom, his foot jamming open the door before it can close on him.
He’s careful, sending a quick glance down the corridor to make sure nobody has followed them. When he sees that the coast is clear, James slips in after Regulus and lets the door fall quietly shut behind him.
Regulus is already waiting for him, obviously, standing over by one of the front desks and watching James with an almost fond expression. It’s entirely too early in the morning for James to read into it any further than that.
It’s only then, as he’s faced with Regulus’ wonderful smile up close once again, that James remembers where they left their last conversation at.
He can feel the heat rise to his face as he clears his throat, taking a hesitant step into the room. “I, uh- I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”
At that, Regulus tilts his head – and James seriously has to try not the think about how adorable he looks as he does so. “Why not?” Regulus asks, with a light furrow between his brows.
James chews his lip, avoiding Regulus’ curious gaze. “I took things a little too far,” he explains, wondering how exactly he’s suddenly become a jittery mess. He’s James Potter, for Merlin’s sake! School flirt, turned down more often than not. He’s loud and proud about this sort of stuff; he doesn’t care what other people think of him. Yet, with Regulus, it’s as if all he cares about is what the other boy thinks.
Regulus makes a strangled noise, one that has James finally looking up at him, and he finds Regulus pushing himself up from the desk he’d been leaning against to step closer to James. A pink tongue darts out to wet his lips and James’ eyes are momentarily transfixed on the movement, until Regulus is standing directly in front of him and he has no choice but to meet those grey eyes that bring him to his knees.
“See, I was thinking,” Regulus says, and his voice is an octave lower than James is used to. It sends shivers down his spine, causes him to sway forward. When Regulus speaks again, they’re so close that he can feel the boy’s breath dance over his skin, warm and inviting, “I don’t think you took it far enough.”
And those-
Those are some strong words coming from the smaller boy in front of him, who’s now swallowing thickly and blinking up at James through long lashes, looking both too confident in his own skin and ready to flee the room in the next second.
So James does the only thing he can think of. The only response he reckons fits this situation.
He takes the last step that closes the remaining distance between them, his hands coming to settle on Regulus’ waist as though they were meant to be there, and dips his head down. There’s a brief moment where James hovers an inch away from Regulus’ face and waits to be pushed away. Expects to be pushed away.
But, instead of being sent stumbling backwards, a fist is curled into the front of James’ robes and he’s yanked down, his lips crashing onto Regulus’ with a sharp intake of breath passing between them.
James melts into the kiss instantly, a muffled moan slipping from his mouth. Regulus responds in likeness, his grip on James only tightening as he lets his mouth part in a gasp. James takes the opportunity for what it is, his tongue slipping inside to meet Regulus’, and the intensity of whatever it is he’s feeling is unlike any he’s ever felt before, his knees buckling under him as his hands find purchase on Regulus’ waist to keep him grounded. Their bodies slot perfectly together, like two missing pieces. He feels like he’s drowning, losing himself in everything Regulus – the lingering taste of tea on his tongue, the subtle waft of apple shampoo, the heat of the body under his hold.
It’s only when a loud scrape echoes throughout the room that they both jostle apart.
Regulus laughs as he realises he’s walked into a desk, the two of them moving without even realising it and James finds himself chuckling along with him. His laughter dies on his tongue, though, as he takes in Regulus’ current appearance; cheeks flushed, lips red, and eyes bright and alive. James figures he probably doesn’t look much better.
From up close, James notices something else about Regulus. He has his hair loose, no gel slicking his curls into place, making him look that much younger.
“Your hair looks nice.” James says with a cocky grin, keeping his voice nonchalant even as he reaches out and brushes a hand through the dark curls.
Regulus smirks, leaning back against the desk behind him and crossing his arms over his chest. He drags his eyes over James’ body, an action that makes James feel suddenly exposed but in a way that has him tingling in excited anticipation. “Yeah, well, somebody once said I looked cuter like this.”
James snorts, twirling a strand of Regulus’ hair around his index finger before releasing it, watching as it bounces back into place. His hand comes to rest over Regulus’ cheek, thumb stroking just under his eye, and Regulus eases into the gentle touch with a soft smile. “They sound pretty smart.”
“He can be,” Regulus murmurs, reaching out to trail his hand down James’ chest. James holds his breath as Regulus splays his palm over his heart, certain that the boy can feel how quickly it’s surely beating. If he does, he doesn’t make a show of it.
When Regulus meets his eyes again, the teasing glint in his expression is long gone, replaced by a softer, sweeter tone that draws James closer. Their noses bump together gently, air passing between them in quiet puffs, and James wishes to be nowhere else but here.
Especially as Regulus whispers out an almost hesitant, “Kiss me again?” against James’ lips that has James surging forward once more, this time with a little more restraint. He brings his other hand up so that he’s framing Regulus’ face in his palms, tilting his jaw up just enough to duck down and press their lips together in a kiss that has electricity flowing right through his body.
This kiss is slower, a delicate glide of tongues, a melding of two bodies into one as they cling to one another in an almost desperate way. It’s the result of a build-up of emotions. Emotions that, in James case, he hadn’t even been aware of until recently.
This kiss is soft, sweet, and absolutely perfect.
They continue their zealous pace for a few minutes and James feels almost like laughing, if he weren’t so uninterested in pulling away. A hand snakes its way into his hair, tugging just harsh enough to make James groan against the lips on his and he crowds impossibly closer to Regulus, his fingertips tracing aimless patterns over the boy’s jawline.
They separate too soon for James’ liking, and he chases after Regulus’ lips with an annoyed whine that he’ll never admit to. Regulus laughs against his mouth, indulging him for a moment longer before placing his hands on James’ chest and gently pushing him back. When James pouts at him, Regulus rolls his eyes and taps his fingertips to his lips.
“You’re going to be late.” he reminds him. And, oh yeah…classes. James had completely forgotten.
With a groan, James drops his head to Regulus shoulder – definitely not melting inside at the way Regulus runs his hand soothingly down his back. “You’ll be late too.” he argues childishly, prompting another laugh from Regulus which has James’ heart soaring.
“I have Slughorn,” Regulus points out, “Slughorn loves me. You have McGonagall.”
“Please,” James complains into Regulus’ neck, not able to resist pressing his lips to the pale skin residing there, “don’t remind me, love.”
Regulus snorts, patting his back. “Come on, Head Boy.” he says, “I’m not getting myself into detention just to see you tonight.”
At that, James straightens up and flashes a smile down at Regulus. “I can see you tonight?”
He receives an eye roll in return, which he probably deserves. “No, I’m just going to kiss you and never speak to you again. Honestly, Potter, have you never dated anyone before?”
The way that those words send a thrill through James’ body is absolutely unfair.
“We’re dating now?” James goads, wiggling his brows just to annoy Regulus. It does the trick, earning him another eye roll and a harsher push to send him stumbling back a step.
“Not if you keep acting like a complete idiot.” Regulus says, but there’s no heat in his words. How could there be, when there’s a huge smile on his face? Playing along with his game, or perhaps just believing that James really is an oblivious fool, Regulus steps forward to smooth down the front of James’ robes and says, in all seriousness, “I like you, James Potter. And I’m fairly certain that you like me too.”
“I do.” James interrupts, with a wicked grin.
“So,” Regulus continues on, pulling James’ tie tight, “I’d quite like to be able to call you my boyfriend. If you would be amenable to that?”
James laughs, dropping down to plant a lingering kiss to Regulus’ forehead. “That might possibly be the most formal way anyone’s ever asked me out.”
Regulus slaps his chest lightly, a pink tinge to his cheeks. James only smiles wider, taking Regulus’ hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“Yes.” he says simply, “I’d be more than happy to be your boyfriend, Reg.”
“Good.” Regulus ducks his face down, doing a bad job at hiding his bashful smile. “Glad that’s sorted then.” He says it as though they’ve simply agreed to help tutor one another, not entered into a relationship, but James can’t seem to find it anything less than endearing.
They begin to move towards the door, neither of them particularly in a rush to leave the other just yet, when James realises something.
“Wait,” he holds a hand out, stopping Regulus in his tracks. James casts a glance around the room, remembering back to a few days ago. “The other night…did you plan to run into me here?”
Regulus pulls his lower lip between his teeth, but otherwise manages to keep his face neutral. He sidesteps around James, turning to face him as he opens the door, and suddenly an all-too-smug grin spreads over his face.
“I did nothing that you can prove.”
With that, he’s gone.
James stands there dumbly for a second before rushing out of the classroom after him, mind reeling. “Wait-” he shouts down the corridor, but Regulus is already walking briskly away. He turns around, just as he reaches the corner, and sends James a wink. “Reggie!”
°•☆•♡•☆•°
This corner of the library is always peaceful. It’s not that James doesn’t love his friends dearly; it’s just that they (namely, Sirius) can be easily distracted and, therefore, make studying much harder than it ought to be. Sometimes, he enjoys the tranquillity of the library.
Said peace is unfortunately ripped from him within the next few seconds, just as James is carefully blowing the ink on his notes dry. A book drops down heavily onto the space on the table, right by his arm, and James prides himself in somehow managing to not flinch at the sudden intrusion.
“Bloody Kettleburn,” Regulus hisses, flopping down unceremoniously into the chair beside James. A subtle floral scent (James is adamant it’s daisies) wafts his way with the motion and he hides a smile in the crook of his arm – he’s learnt the hard way, in this past week, that Regulus does not appreciate being told that he smells of flowers.
James finds it cute, if he’s being completely honest.
“I take it Care of Magical Creatures didn’t go well?” James asks his boyfriend – and, wow, he’s still not used to that. It’s only been a week but, in that short space of time, the two of them have made sure to see each other as often as they can without causing suspicion. James even managed to sneak into Regulus’ dorm room one night under his cloak. Although, that had almost ended disastrously when Barty Crouch Jr. had happily let himself into the closed off curtains of Regulus’ bed; James barely had chance to throw the cloak back over himself before he was caught. Regulus made sure to put up a few privacy charms after that.
Regulus lets out a low groan in response, resting his head on James’ shoulder. James chuckles, his hand instinctively coming up to card through the boy’s locks, smiling once again as he feels Regulus’ soft exhale ghost over the skin of his neck.
The Slytherin twists his face inwards, lips brushing over the sensitive spot under James’ jaw. “She wants us to take care of baby Nifflers!” he complains, not bothering to lift his head.
James snorts, biting his lip. His hand stills in Regulus’ hair, glancing down at the boy. “Y’know…” he starts, and this causes Regulus to push himself up just high enough to glare at James.
“Don’t you dare.”
James ignores him. “You kind of look like a Niffler.”
Regulus’ eyes narrow into a squint. He huffs, pushing himself out of James’ grasp. “I hate you.”
“It’s true, though!” James can’t hold back his laughter as he truly begins to realise the likeness between the adorable creatures and his boyfriend. “Your hair, for starters. And I know, for a fact, that you love collecting shiny objects-”
“They’re antiques!” Regulus snaps back, but James can see the corners of his mouth twitching up.
“You’re also super affectionate and cuddly,” James continues on, prodding gently at Regulus’ cheek with a grin, “I have first-hand experience of that. But I also know that you’re vicious when provoked.”
Regulus rolls his eyes, avoiding James’ gaze as he flips open his copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
“Remind me again why I like you?” Regulus mutters, mostly to himself but James would never let an opportunity like this pass.
With a quiet chuckle, James leans in closer, one arm snaking around the back of Regulus’ chair to rest at the nape of his neck, fingertips nestling in his hairline. Regulus doesn’t pull away from the touch, turning to face James with a rather unimpressed expression on his face that must have taken years to train into place. James can see the adoring gleam in Regulus’ silver eyes, though, the one he loves so much and so he’s not put off as he slowly closes the distance between them. His other hand comes to cup Regulus’ jaw, tilting his face upwards just an inch so that he can capture his lips in a sweet kiss.
Regulus melts into it, a soft sigh escaping his parted lips, and James happily deepens the kiss.
They keep it short; they’re still, technically, in public – the shelves of books surrounding them only offer so much privacy. He doesn’t pull too far away, though, his eyes blinking back open as he rests his forehead against Regulus’, staring down into those mesmerising eyes.
After a moment of content silence, James speaks up again, “Because, my little lionheart,” he whispers, the nickname earning him a bashful smile from the Slytherin and James can’t resist dropping a quick peck to the tip of Regulus’ nose, if only to cause his blush to deepen. “Even you can’t withstand the Potter charm.”
The laugh that bubbles up from Regulus’ throat, bright and happy, is priceless. It embraces James, reminiscent of the protective magic his mother would cast over him as a young boy, and James’ entire being is drawn towards the boy in front of him. Towards the safety and love that he feels whenever he’s with him.
As though he’s feeling the same magnetic pull, Regulus lifts his head up to press a loving kiss to James’ lips before peppering a few, lighter kisses along his jaw. He noses against the spot just below James’ ear, warm breath sending goosebumps over James’ skin, and chuckles again. “You’re incredibly self-obsessed.”
James laughs, burying his face in Regulus’ hair to muffle the sound. “You’re the one dating me.” he argues back, and Regulus hums thoughtfully.
“I am, aren’t I?” Regulus eventually says, an almost wistful lilt in his voice. When James pulls away to look at him, his heart swells at the look of pure adoration on Regulus’ face. He doesn’t quite know how they got here, how he got to be so lucky as to call Regulus Black his, but yet here they are. And he thanks the stars every night for it.
“Speaking of,” James suddenly says, remembering something that had been on his mind for a while now. Regulus raises a brow in interest, waiting for James to continue. “How would you like to go on a proper date?”
“You mean that night in the Astronomy Tower doesn’t count as a date?” Regulus teases, ducking the swat James aims his way. He holds up his hands placatingly, not being very successful at hiding his smirk.
“Not a real date,” James insists with a sigh. “I mean a date out, at Hogsmeade.”
Regulus sucks his lower lip between his teeth, a small furrow appearing between his brows. “How exactly would that work?”
James shrugs. He hasn’t thought out the exact details yet, but he has a vague idea. “It doesn’t have to be for the entire trip out, maybe just an hour or two. I can probably slip away from the others for a bit, I’ll just tell them I need to get new strings for my guitar or something. I’ll get us a secluded table at Madam Puddifoot’s.”
Regulus’ frown deepens. “What if somebody recognises us?”
“Trust me,” James smirks, “everybody there will be much more interested in their own company.”
Regulus thinks it over for a moment, clearly weighing the pros and cons, before he meets James’ eyes. An unusual tightness coils itself in James’ stomach, a tension he’s not used to, and he holds his breath as he awaits an answer.
“You’re paying.” Regulus finally says, his frown giving way to a shit-eating grin.
Relief washes over James.
“Oh, am I now?” he asks, laughing.
“Yes, you are, rich boy.” Regulus smirks, leaning in with a smug look in his eyes.
James snorts, quirking a brow at him. “Look who’s talking.” he retorts.
Any further remarks are soon lost as Regulus cups the back of James’ head, tugging him down into a biting kiss. James is happy to follow his lead, responding with an equal vigour. It’s rare that Regulus initiates a kiss, but when he does it always leaves James breathless. He kisses James like the world is going to disappear, like he’s drowning and James is his last breath of oxygen. It’s intoxicating.
Not wanting to break the kiss, but needing to come for air, James pulls away for just a moment. In a slight daze, Regulus blinks up at him through his lashes, his hair dishevelled, eyes alight and lips cherry red. He looks absolutely beautiful and James can’t stand it.
With a helpless little groan, he leans forward and captures Regulus’ lips with his own once more, this time bringing his hands up to cradle the boy’s face with a gentleness that contradicts the pace of the previous kiss. Regulus doesn’t seem to mind the switch, far from it actually, if the desperate whine that escapes his throat is any indication. James smiles against his lips, swallowing the sound and pulling him impossibly closer. Any thoughts of studying are now erased from his mind, replaced instead by the soft lips on his, the fingers laced through his hair, the flowery aroma surrounding him - everything about Regulus that just envelopes him and keeps him grounded.
°•♡•☆•♡•°
James tunes the commentator out – it’s not Remus today, which is almost a sure guarantee for pure boring narration – letting the voice fade out into background noise, along with the whiz of nearby bludgers and other players on their brooms. His focus is solely on the snitch, eyes trained to it as he tails not too far behind, ducking and weaving in every direction.
This has being going on for almost a solid ten minutes now, he’s sure of it. His head is starting to feel lighter than usual, the edges of his brain feeling a strange sort of fuzzy that makes him want to lie down. Just for a second.
But he can’t, he knows that, and so he pushes forward, gritting his teeth as he urges his broom closer by an inch, and another, and-
It disappears.
Of course it does.
James groans, thankful that he’s high enough up that his swears can be carried off by the wind before they get the chance to even so much as graze McGonagall’s ears.
Sharing a disappointed look with Lyall, Ravenclaw’s newest Seeker, James guides his broom back down, fully intending to continue his usual round of the pitch in search of that sneaky flying ball once more. As he nears, James can spy his friends cheering him on in the Gryffindor stands – enthusiasm never waning. He smiles right back, a comforting warmth settling in his chest.
Continuing around the stands, keeping his eyes peeled for the snitch, James slows just a tad as he comes closer to the Slytherins. To anybody else watching, it might merely seem as though he’s being extra meticulous in his search.
That’s not it, though.
James slides his gaze upwards, searching out a familiar pale face in the crowd of Slytherins. It doesn’t take him long; Regulus is stood near the back but, unlike the majority of the students surrounding him, his eyes are focused entirely on James.
It doesn’t even take him by surprise anymore. Countless times, now, has James sought out Regulus’ gaze only to find it already on him. Something about it makes him smile, leaves him feeling soft and gooey in a way he always heard the girls whisper about during classes but never thought he’d get to experience himself.
Unlike his Gryffindor friends, Regulus isn’t kitted out in James’ house colours in support.
That hardly matters, though, since James didn’t exactly expect him to be. It would certainly raise more than a few questions for the boy, questions which neither of them are sure they’re ready to answer just yet.
What James does spot, however, makes him smile more than any Gryffindor banner or scarf could have. Regulus is wearing a black beanie, one that easily blends in with the rest of his monochromatic outfit. It’s not his, though. No, James knows that.
He could recognise that hat anywhere.
Because inside, written in his mother’s handwriting, is ‘James Potter’, which is scrawled over the top of a crossed out ‘Fleamont Potter’.
That warmth in his chest from earlier grows, spreading further, entwining itself between his ribs and furling around his steadily beating heart. James can’t wipe the smile off of his face, not even if he wanted to.
From up in the stands, Regulus matches his smile. Lifting his hand, he offers James a shy thumbs up and James returns it with a light laugh.
It’s then that he notices a sudden flash of blue.
Whipping his head around, James sees Lyall speeding towards the opposite side of the pitch. James squints, already urging his broom after her as he searches out the snitch. He can’t see it – yet - but Lyall is clearly chasing something.
It’s as he finally spies a glimmer of gold, teasing at the edge of the clouds, that everything takes a turn.
James’ attention is elsewhere, obviously, as he veers his broom left and intends to shoot up in an attempt to overtake Lyall. In his rush to get to the snitch first, James forgets to check that the coast is clear.
He hears Sirius’ voice, panic-stricken, cry out, “James!” but it’s too late.
In a split second, James goes from rocketing towards the sky to plummeting to the ground. A bludger seemingly appears out of nowhere, travelling at a frightening speed, and crashes head-on into James’ broom, narrowly missing his hand – thankfully, because the last thing James needs is a crushed hand.
Then again, that may be preferable over the current situation.
James feels his stomach lurch, and he has a terrible suspicion that he might be seeing the contents of his breakfast a lot sooner than he’d have liked. His surroundings blur into a whirl of colour: green, red, blue. James squeezes his eyes shut.
The wind whips past his face, harsh and cold, like a violent slap as he only continues to gain speed on his descent. His spinning at a rate fast enough to make him want to hurl again. He’s glad he decided to close his eyes earlier.
His knuckles ache with the tight grip he has on his broom but, at this point, his broom is pretty much his last hope. Not that he’s able to control it in any way - that bludger must have really done some damage – but at least he isn’t free-falling to whatever awaits him below.
If he stayed alert, kept his eyes open, James would’ve witnessed McGonagall (of all people) rushing to the pitch, her wand held steadily in her hand as she takes control over his damaged broom. Unfortunately, James will have to rely on his friends’ recounts of the ‘iconic moment’ because the last thing he remembers is a whispered apology to everyone he’s ever loved before he blacks out.
It’s quiet.
Much too quiet, James thinks, as he feels himself slowly be pulled out of unconsciousness. His entire body aches, every muscle and bone.
Neither of which ache more than his head, though.
Merlin, his head is pounding.
He must say something, or let out a groan of pain at least, because suddenly there’s movement near him. James doesn’t even know where he is but, going by the many other times something like this has happened, James suspects he’s in the hospital wing. He and Poppy Pomfrey are on a first-name basis at this point.
“James?” a voice, barely more than a whisper, asks into the quiet. “J-Jamie, please-” There’s an undeniable fear in the voice, a broken cry being held back. James only knows one person strong enough to hold themselves together through such worry, to maintain as even a voice as possible so as not to show weakness (it hurts him to even think of why they have to do this, so he pushes that thought to the back of his muddled mind).
Weakly reaching out a hand, James smiles as he feels fingers lace themselves with his own. A content hum escapes him and James slowly pulls their joint hands to rest over his chest, right above his beating heart.
He feels the bed he must be lying on dip, just by his hip, and presumes Regulus has sat down beside him. He wonders, briefly, if Poppy knows he’s here or if the Slytherin simply snuck in when nobody was looking.
Because, surely, if he’s allowed visitors his friends would be here too? Providing his sudden exit from the Quidditch match didn’t cause too much panic which, speaking of-
“Did we win?” James mumbles, eyes fluttering open but a displeased groan leaving him almost immediately as he’s overcome with too much light much too soon. He squeezes them back shut again, wincing in pain, and only manages to relax when he feels a warm palm glide over his cheek. James sighs.
Fingers brush hair off of his forehead, the pad of a thumb tracing over his right brow oh-so-gently. James realises why when he flinches; he must have a cut hidden there.
Regulus lets out a haughty sounding scoff, but there’s a softness to the edge of his voice as he repeats, incredulously, “Did you win?!”
“Well?” James presses, but at this point he doesn’t even care; he’s just trying to make Regulus smile. To stop worrying over him.
Regulus sighs, dropping his head down until his forehead rests carefully over James’. “I hate you so much right now.” he whispers, his breath ghosting over James’ lips tauntingly.
James snickers. He gives Regulus’ hand a tight squeeze, angling his head to brush his lips over the rise of Regulus’ cheekbone.
With Regulus above him, James can open his eyes and adjust to the shift of light without feeling light his head is going to split in two. The sight he sees before him, though, breaks his heart.
For all he’s managing to hold his voice steady, Regulus clearly isn’t unaffected by James’ accident. His hair is dishevelled, curls loose and tangled, no doubt from continuously raking his fingers through it. His lips are bitten red, a droplet of blood oozing out of his lower lip (James has always found Regulus’ nervous habit of chewing his lip endearing, up until now). Worst of all, a sight that’s enough to rip James’ heart from his chest in guilt, is the barely dried trail of tears that follow the curve of Regulus’ face.
James reaches his free hand up, fingertips tracing over the lines almost subconsciously.
“Stop it,” Regulus hisses, but instead of sounding embarrassed, like James had expected, there’s an admonishment to his tone. James does stop, his fingers hovering just over Regulus’ lips, and meets the boy’s eyes. Regulus sighs heavily, the hand cupping James’ face sliding up just a slight, fingers inching into James’ hair and settling there. “Don’t blame yourself.” Regulus tells him, and James is taken aback by the way the Slytherin could read his actions better than James can himself.
Because he was going to blame himself; for being stupid, and reckless, and causing Regulus any sort of worry or pain.
He still feels sort of guilty. Of course he does. But James tries not to let the feeling consume him and offers Regulus a small smile. “Sorry.”
Regulus returns his smile. From his position, this close to James, James can feel the tension ease out of Regulus’ body. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Me too.” James says, his residing pain forgotten as Regulus strokes his hair.
James hasn’t even checked that the curtains are up around his bed, doesn’t really care at this point, when he leans in and kisses the tip of Regulus’ nose. When Regulus doesn’t object, he leans in again, kissing Regulus full on the mouth. The hand in his tightens, and he feels Regulus sigh against him.
As he lowers his other arm, moving it to wrap around Regulus’ waist and pull his body over James’ – injuries be damned – Regulus lets out a needy whine from the back of his throat, chasing after James’ lips before he can even think about pulling away. James chuckles into the kiss, more than happy to deepen it, and manages to muffle his grunt when Regulus shifts awkwardly over his bad leg. Any pain is worth this, worth Regulus clinging to him with a desperation that James feels in his gut, worth being kissed absolutely senseless.
When they do separate, it’s only to catch their breath. Regulus keeps his forehead pressed to James’, silver eyes bearing down into hazel. He inches his hands deeper into James’ hair, finger twining around messy locks, and James keens into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed against his will. Lips brush over his jaw, peppering feather-light kisses over his probably disgustingly sweaty and mud-covered skin. Regulus doesn’t seem to care. “I love you.” he whispers into the dip of James’ clavicle, words almost lost if it wasn’t for the peaceful quiet settled around them.
James’ whole body feels alight, nervous and warm in a way that he’s never felt before. His eyes snap open, finding Regulus’ in a second. “I-” his voice cracks, eyes suddenly stinging. Surging forward, James tightens his hold on Regulus yet again as he captures his lips with his own in a searing kiss of teeth and tongue. “I love you.” James whispers into the kiss, swallowing the responding moan from Regulus. “I love you.” he repeats, as he pulls away to press his lips to Regulus’ cheek. “Merlin, I love you so much.” he says again, just because he can, kissing Regulus’ forehead, nosing at his hairline and inhaling deeply.
A comfortable peace resides between them, reminiscent to floating above the clouds, and James swears he’s never felt happier.
The moment is broken, though, when Regulus pushes himself up from where he’s sprawled over James, a small frown etched onto his face as he pulls his hand away from James’ hair. James doesn’t need to question him when he sees what’s in Regulus’ hand: a leaf.
A look of disgust passes over Regulus’ face, followed by an unmistakable amusement that’s only solidified by the way Regulus’ lips twitch up into a foolish smile. He still rolls his eyes, though, muttering, “Merde, tu es un tel gâchis.” under his breath as he flicks the leaf away from them both.
The laugh that rips itself from James’ throat is loud and boisterous, completely unashamed. He shakes his head along with Regulus, looping his arms around Regulus’ neck to pull him back down into a lingering kiss.
“Utterly disgraceful,” Regulus complains half-heartedly against James’ lips, “qu’est-ce que je vais faire avec tu, mon chérie?” James would be lying if he said the foreign language on his boyfriend’s tongue didn’t cause heat to pool in his abdomen, but right now he was content to just let the words wash over him, smiling contently into the kiss. Regulus could insult him in a million different languages and James would still never feel more cherished, more loved. It isn’t about the words that Regulus speaks; it’s about the way he says them. And, right now, they’re being said with a genuine affection that James can feel in every kiss pressed to his lips.
He’s just starting to think that he could lay here forever, when the curtains (so they were closed, thank Godric) around his bed are ripped open.
The scream that follows is ear-splitting.
James and Regulus jolt apart, as instinctive as a flinch. James only just manages to have enough wits about him to wrap his fingers tight around Regulus’ wrists, stopping the boy from falling right off of the bed, as they both whip their heads around towards the rude intruder.
Who just so happens to be Sirius, because of course it would be.
His mouth is agape, no longer emitting sound (thankfully), opening and closing in a perfect imitation of a fish. James would laugh, were the circumstances different.
Over his best friend’s shoulder, James can also see the shocked faces of his other two friends. Although, whilst Peter looks torn between throwing up and running away, Remus seems much too amused by James’ misfortune.
It’s Regulus that breaks the awkward silence hanging in the air between them all. He reaches a placating hand out. “Now, Siri-”
“Are you kidding me?!” Sirius interrupts with a screech high enough to make James wince.
The words ‘it’s not what it looks like’ form in James’ mouth but he bites them back because, actually, it’s very much what it looks like and he feels as though lying would simply be counterproductive. The secret would’ve come out eventually, he tells himself, so they may as well get this conversation over and done with as soon as possible.
“Sirius,” James starts, keeping his hold on Regulus. Not that Regulus is making any move to get away, in fact he leans back into James slightly, relaxing once again as James’ arms wrap around him. Sirius watches the movement with narrowed eyes, looking like he wants to rip them both apart. “Padfoot, calm down.”
Sirius’ eyes glide up to meet James’ and, for a moment, James worries that that was the wrong thing to say. But then Sirius lets out a tired sigh, shoulders sagging slightly, and James feels like he can breathe again. Looking between them both, Sirius gestures wildly. “Do either of you want to explain…whatever this is?”
Regulus turns to glance at James, sharing a look that seems to speak a thousand words. There’s a small plea in his eyes, not for help but for him to be the one to tell his brother, and so James relents; burying his nose into Regulus’ curls as Regulus leans into James’ chest and meets Sirius gaze sternly.
“James and I are dating.” Regulus explains, not one to beat around the bush. James is glad that nobody can see his smirk; he has a feeling Sirius would slap him for finding anything about this amusing. Sirius goes to say something but Regulus holds a finger up to silence him, continuing on, “We have been for about a month now.”
“A month next weekend.” James mumbles into Regulus’ hair, thinking of the date at Hogsmeade that they have planned to celebrate.
He feels Regulus vibrate against him with a small laugh and smiles wider, planting a soft kiss to the boy’s temple despite their current company.
“A month?” Sirius may as well be shouting, he’s definitely forgotten how to use his inside-voice.
Regulus, as used to his brother’s outbursts as James is, fixes him with an unimpressed glare. “That’s what I said, yes.”
“And you never thought to tell me?” Sirius asks, this time directing his question towards James.
James bites his lip, shrugging his shoulders as he pulls away from Regulus to admit, albeit meekly, “I was going to say something eventually.”
Sirius straightens, tensing slightly as though he’s readying himself for an argument, and it’s only when Remus steps forward and lays a gentle hand on his neck that he backs down.
“You really didn’t know?” Remus asks him in a low voice, almost soothing if it wasn’t for the way his lips were curled up into a smirk. He’s clearly enjoying this too much.
James expects him to be outraged that Remus seemingly did know but, always full of surprises, Sirius just lets out a heavy sigh. “I may have suspected something.”
“How?” James blurts out before he can stop himself.
Sirius looks up at him again, worrying his lip between his teeth. “That picture you got a few weeks ago, the one above your bed? Did you think I wouldn’t recognise the initials?”
“Ah…” James actually hadn’t thought about that. But, now that Sirius mentions it, of course Sirius would’ve known who it was from. Not that he’d said anything, though.
“You put my drawing up?” Regulus asks, turning to meet James’ eyes. There’s a hint of disbelief in his voice, mirrored in his eyes as he blinks up at James, and James’ heart melts for the boy before him.
He frowns in confusion, smiling sweetly at his boyfriend. “Of course I did.” he says simply, because why wouldn’t he have put it up? People don’t often make things for him and this wasn’t just anything; this was a drawing of him done by Regulus, of all people. Before they were even dating. Before James was even sure that Regulus liked him, in any capacity.
Regulus’ expression softens, a smile dancing over his lips, and James wants to kiss them so badly. But he won’t, not yet. Not with Sirius still standing right in front of them.
So he settles with nudging his nose against Regulus’ temple, smile widening as Regulus leans into the touch.
“Why didn’t you just ask me about it?” James directs at Sirius.
Sirius looks uncharacteristically unsure of himself as he shrugs. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
And, really, he’s got James there.
James sighs, biting his lip as he realises that, perhaps, he’s been a bit of a shit friend. All this time, he’s worried that Sirius would be mad with him for being interested in his little brother – let alone for actually dating him – but, it’s clear to him now, that Sirius is mad over James not telling him. He’s mad over James keeping something hidden from him. They don’t have secrets; they tell each other everything. Merlin, James had heard every little detail of Sirius’ crush on Remus last year (every longing touch they shared, every ‘annoying hot’ outfit that Remus wore, it was an endless spiel of nonsense but James had listened to every bit of it).
“I’m sorry.” James says earnestly, holding Sirius’ gaze to make sure he gets the message across.
Sirius is silent for a minute, an agonizingly long minute, before he nods. There’s the hint of a smile on his face, at last, as he points at James and quirks a challenging brow his way. “If you so much as hurt a hair on his head,” he gestures towards Regulus, “don’t think that being my best friend will make you immune to my violence.”
A weight is lifted from James’ chest and he throws his head back in a laugh. “I would expect nothing less from you.”
Sirius nods once more, taking a step closer to the bed James and Regulus are sitting on. “Good.” He rests a hand down on James’ shoulder, ruffling Regulus’ hair with his other. “We were coming in to check on you,” he says with a smirk, “but it looks like you’re doing fine without us.”
“You guys are more than welcome to stay.” James offers, looking round at each of his friends.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Madam Pomfrey interrupts, appearing in the gap of the curtains and causing each of the boys to startle. “I thought I heard you boys come in! What did I tell you earlier? No visitors yet-” she pauses, her eyes falling on Regulus, and purses her lips. “Mr Black, when exactly did you return?”
“Return?” James asks dumbly, looking around at the others but clearly not getting an answer. They each look as confused as he is.
Regulus stiffens in James’ arms, biting his lip. “I, uh- never left?”
Madam Pomfrey holds her gaze on him for a moment longer before letting out a long breath, the ghost of a smile passing over her lips as she gives a small shake of her head. “You boys…” She shifts her gaze to James then, smile returning. “Mr Black, here, came rushing in as you were brought in. I told him he couldn’t stay,” she looks back at Regulus, a softness to the edge of her eyes, “but I guess he chose not to listen to me.”
James can’t help but laugh, a rush of giddiness taking over him at the idea of Regulus being by his side from the moment he was hurt. This time, he can’t stop himself from leaning in to steal a chaste kiss from the boy, smiling as a dark blush rises to his pale cheeks.
“And you call me a rule-breaker.”
“This was different!” Regulus insists with a pout. “You were hurt. I wasn’t just going to leave you alone.”
A small huff from Madam Pomfrey draws James’ attention back to the woman. He smiles at her sweetly, batting his eyelashes, as he rests his chin on Regulus’ shoulder. “Can they stay? Please?”
He knows she can’t resist his charm, especially when he’s been badly hurt.
As he expected, she holds his pleading gaze for a moment before relenting with a soft sigh. “Fine. But you have to keep it down.” At the latter part, she looks at Sirius with a knowing look. Sirius gasps, dramatic as ever, and mouths a disbelieving, “Me?” that has the rest of them laughing.
“Oh, could we possibly get some tea?” James asks with a cheeky grin as Madam Pomfrey turns to leave. She tuts, but he can tell she’s trying hard not to laugh, and he has no doubt that she’ll return in a short while with a tray of tea and biscuits. “Thank you, Poppy!” he calls out in a sing-song voice, leaning back to settle himself against his pillows that are now propped up by the headboard. Regulus follows him, he hardly has a choice with James’ arms still wrapped snugly around his middle, and nestles himself closer with a content sigh.
The others waste no time in pulling up a few spare chairs and sitting around the bed, all turned to face James, no longer looking so worried about him. This is fine by him, since he feels close to fine by now; whatever potions Pomfrey gave him when he came in must have worked.
Unfortunately, they don’t seem to have replenished his energy and, as he lies there with Regulus’ heat surrounding and comforting him, James can feel himself begin to feel drowsier. He must show it, because Regulus tilts his face to brush his lips over James’ cheek, whispering a quiet, “You should rest.” into his ear.
James hums, wanting to argue back but suddenly feeling too exhausted to do little more than lift his hand and card his fingers through Regulus’ curls. Regulus arches into the touch, smiling against James’ skin.
Tiredness pulls at his eyelids, his breathing evening out as his friends promise to stay until he wakes up. He drifts off into a peaceful sleep, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he hears Peter say (presumably to Sirius and Remus), “Why can’t you two be this cute? I only ever catch you both shagging!” followed by what sounds like a pillow being thrown and an affronted yelp, Regulus’ soft laughter muffled into James’ chest.