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Chapter Text

Three Years Ago: Third Year

Care for Magical Creatures was supposed to be his favorite class. He loves animals, and if he had it his way, that's what he would study after Hogwarts. He had begged his Maman to allow him to take the course, even going so far as to take an extra subject to sway her decision. However, as he rushes to the forest's edge to vomit his breakfast, he rethinks his daydreams. Professor Grubbly-Plank had said they were in for a special treat today, and that special treat was trauma. He doubles over again, wanting to scrub his mind clean of the deer he just watched a thestral take down, the noises still echoing in his mind. 

"You alright, mate?" Evan calls from a considerable distance. 

He leans his head against a tree, "Yeah, just give me a second." 

"That was brutal, I mean the way it just fucking devoured-" Regulus heaves loudly, "Oh, shit, sorry!"

He groans, "I am never eating meat again."

*****

He has never meant a statement so much in his life. At dinner, he watches as Pandora loads her plate with pork, trying hard not to gag at the sight. 

"Do you feel any better? You're looking a bit peaky." Dorcas places a hand on his forehead, and he bats it away. 

"You're eating literal carcasses right now, and I'm expected not to look peaky?" 

She snorts, making a show of biting into said carcass, "You'll get over it when you remember how tasty it is; it's the circle of life, Reg."

He wrinkles his nose, "That's never going to happen."

"Yeah, yeah."

He tries to make it all the way through dinner, but the smells nauseate him to the point of feeling ill again. He leaves the table before he throws up, waving off his friends' amusement at the non-amusing situation. This continues for weeks, and his inability to sit through an entire meal without leaving has become a running gag among their friend group.

He exits the table some weeks later after the smell of roasted lamb makes him almost pass out. In record time, he enters the first-floor bathroom, making a beeline for the sink to splash his face with water. The door opens, and he pays it no regard, his eyes closed as he breathes deeply. 

"You leave meals a lot," He opens his eyes, meeting James in the mirror. 

"A modern-day Sherlock Holmes." He says through clenched teeth, angry that he's seeing him in a vulnerable state. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." 

He rolls his eyes, leaning his head between his knees, "Your power of deduction knows no bounds." James doesn't respond, and the urge to take back being a dick is overwhelming; he'd just been trying to help. He chances a glance, and James seems conflicted, opening his mouth several times but never speaking. Regulus sighs, turning around to lean his back against the sink, "What is it?"

James grabs the back of his neck in apparent discomfort. "You're not making yourself sick up, are you?" 

This causes him to pause, realizing that if no one had been around him, that might be the logical conclusion they'd draw: "No." 

"Okay. It's just that if that's something that you do, you should probably not, you know, do that. It's bad for your teeth, and you've got great teeth." James rambles senselessly, continuing to grab the back of his neck like he'd rather be talking about anything else, "I mean, objectively good teeth, you know. Not that I've stared at your teeth or anything, it's just, you know, I've seen your teeth when you smile, and they're nice and-"

He feels like he has whiplash as James continues talking in circles, "James."

He clears his throat, "Yes?"

"I don't do that."

He looks relieved, "Okay." He eyes him again, tilting his head to the side, "Then why have you been running out during meals all month? I've barely seen you eat anything."

He ignores the part where he'd just admitted to watching him closely enough to know what he eats, "I just can't stand the smells."

"The smells?"

"Yeah, the meat, mostly. It makes me feel sick."

James frowns, the act foreign on his face, "Oh." 

"Yeah." He looks down, awkward now that his vulnerability is out in the open. He's not sure why he decided to unload it on James, of all people. 

James bites his cheek, probably thinking that his best friend's little brother is a complete loon. Regulus is about to take back the statement, pretending like it’s no big deal, when James smiles broadly, "Have you considered using a charm on your nose?" 

He can't believe he hadn't thought of doing that, kicking himself mentally, "No."

"I saw my mum use this one at the hospital once," He digs around in his pockets, and Regulus is unsure where this is going. He produces a piece of ripped parchment and a muggle writing device and scribbles something down, passing it along with that same smile. 

Regulus takes it tentatively, eyebrows scrunching when he realizes it's just an incantation, "Why didn't you just tell me the charm?" 

He shrugs, "You're always writing stuff down; I figured you liked to see things in print."

Regulus hadn't realized he did that, nor that he’d do it enough for others to notice. James probably felt the need to watch him closely for Sirius's sake, "Erm, thanks." He pockets the note, overly aware now that they are alone together in a bathroom during dinner, "Erm, I'm going back to the dorms now. You should probably get going; I'm sure your friends are wondering where you are."

James gives him an odd look but nods, "Let me know if the charm works, yeah?"

He nods, feeling more confused than he has in a long time. He tests the charm the next morning at breakfast, and to his relief, it works wonders. He still cringes at the bacon consumption, but his inability to smell it keeps his stomach from rolling. The only downside is that it dulls the sense entirely, meaning nothing has a smell at all, but he'll take it if it means he can actually sit through a meal. His friends eye him the entire time, waiting for the moment he inevitably jumps from the table. 

"Have you finally calmed down about the meat thing?" Evan asks, half-shielding his plate as he's been prone to doing so that Regulus doesn't have to look. 

"If you mean the fact that meat is murder, then no." He pops a grape into his mouth, crunching pointedly, "I just have a charm that makes me not have to smell it."

"Oh, that's brilliant." Pandora gushes, "I'm so stupid; why didn't I think to try that? I was working on a nausea potion for you instead." 

"I didn't think of it," He says quickly, not wanting her to feel dumb but realizing his mistake quickly.

She pauses, "Then who did?" 

He's off-guard by his own response to the initial question that he doesn't think through this one either, "Oh, erm, James." 

"James? James Potter?" 

He hates himself double as he flushes a furious shade of red, "Yeah, can we just-"

Evan gasps, "Salazar, look at your face!" He whips around to stare at the boy in question, and Regulus grabs his robes to turn him the right way around. "You're closeted friends with James Potter?" 

 "Could you keep your bloody voice down?" He hisses, staring at his plate as his blush continues to rage war on his pale complexion. 

"You are so going to tell us everything, " Pandora whispers, and he knows that there is absolutely no getting out of that conversation. 

*****

He tries to avoid it at all costs, dodging them for nearly two days before they gang up on him in the shower. He’s in the process of washing his hair when Evan rips the curtain back, and he scrambles to shield himself from view, using his washcloth as a barrier. “Have you gone mad? Get out!”

Evan shakes his head, passing him a towel from the rack, “No, can do! We were promised a harrowing tale of how Regulus Black is somehow best mates with Gryffindor’s golden boy.”

“WE ?” Regulus squawks, ripping the towel from his hands to secure it around his waist. 

“Hi, Reg!” Pandora calls from somewhere in the bathroom, thankfully staying far away from his shower stall. “Are you decent?”

“Am I decent? ” He mocks in a high-pitched voice, “I’m in the bloody shower; who the hell is decent in the shower.” 

“Ev?” She calls in a frustrated huff. 

Evan gives him a once over, “Yeah, he’s decent!” 

“EVAN!” 

He looks him over again, “What? You are.” He waves vaguely across his entire body, “All your bits are covered.”

“All my bits?” He hurriedly wraps the towel more securely around his waist, tightening it to an almost uncomfortable degree. “I’m literally naked under this.”

“You’re always naked under your clothes,” Pandora points out, rounding the corner, eyes dancing with humor. 

“You-I-this-can’t-improper.” He sputters, sure his face is becoming increasingly splotched with red as he tries to cover his chest with his hands. If his mother caught wind that he’d been undressed in front of a woman, he’d be flayed alive for the impropriety. 

“Who knew you were such a prude?” Pandora snorts, “I swear I’m not out to view your bits,” She wrinkles her nose like that’s the worst thing she could think to do. “I just want the answers I was promised, and this is the only way we could think to get you to talk.” 

He crosses his arms to cover his chest, “By ambushing me during a private moment?” 

“Private moment?” Evan laughs, “What? Were you having a cheeky wank or something? We can come back, let you finish?”

His eyes have never reached this level of wide, “What-I wasn’t-no-you-just-”

The twins cackle uncontrollably at his reaction, and Evan reaches forward to clap him on the shoulder. “It’s alright, mate. Nothing to be ashamed of, only natural.”

His face has reached painful levels of mortification as he stomps off toward the dorm room, muttering, “I hate you both,” to their still laughing backs. 

He hastily throws on clothes before they reenter the room, toweling off his hair, which is still full of shampoo. He can’t believe that just happened, his mind still reeling about the inappropriateness of the entire conversation. He hops onto his bed, stewing about how he’ll have to rewash his hair later. 

“You decent?” Evan calls, barely concealing his amusement. 

“Like it bloody matters to you!” 

“We’re taking that as a yes,” Evan warns, coming into the room within seconds of the statement. 

“Oh, cheer up, Reg! I didn’t see anything, honest!” Pandora crawls into bed beside him, crossing her finger over her heart. 

“And even if I did, it’s not like it’s anything I haven’t seen before,” Evan joins them, sitting cross-legged.

He huffs, still too miffed to entertain their half-hearted apologies, “Whatever.”

Pandora pouts, pulling at his arms to uncross them, “‘C’mon, we’re sorry, alright!”

He rolls his eyes, sure that that’s the best apology he’s going to get, “Fine. What are you dying to know, exactly? I’ve got nothing to tell you.” 

“Well, for starters, since when are you and Potter friends? I thought you hated him.”

“What? I never said that?” He flicks through memories, attempting to find any that would indicate that he disliked James in some way. 

Evan shrugs, “Thought it was a given, him being your brother’s best mate and all.”

He chews his lip, debating if he should give them the full scope of the story. He glances at their curious faces before deciding it’s high time he started acting like he had friends. “Well, for starters, I have no issues with Sirius.”

At their wide eyes, he launches into the story and doesn’t hold back any details on his interactions with James over the years. They’re attentive listeners, nodding along and reacting to all the good bits. It feels nice to talk about it, and when he finishes, Pandora cocks her head to the side, “So you have a crush on him?” 

That is by far the last thing he ever thought she would take away from his interactions. He flushes fully from head to toe, stammering out noises that barely constitute words. They both laugh at his reaction, Evan shaking his head, “It’s alright, you don’t have to admit it, but it’s there between the lines.”

“You-you wouldn’t care?” Regulus asks, voice small as he looks between his friends in shock.

“‘Course not! Why would we care who you like?” Pandora asks, “Besides, it’s not like he isn’t easy on the eyes.” She wiggles her eyebrows pointedly. 

His skin somehow burns hotter, “I do not have a crush on James Potter; don’t be ridiculous.” They share a look before shooting him equally disbelieving expressions. He clears his throat before hopping up, “That’s the whole story, now if I could please go back to my shower?” 

“Right, your shower,” Evan emphasizes with an overexaggerated wink. He pulls his sister by the elbow, leaving Regulus flustered beyond belief as he stares after them. 

*****

The fall brings the first Quidditch game of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Regulus is extremely nervous to play a game against his brother and James this time. He circles the pitch, looking for the snitch and only half paying attention to the game. His gaze drifts to James, and he chastises himself each time, trying to remember that the entire school is watching. The last thing he needs is for people to think they're friends and for his actual friends to endlessly tease him about his supposed crush. 

He redirects his focus between his brother and looking for the snitch. He'd watched every one of Sirius's games, even played him once, but it was always surreal to see him in action. He looked determined to pummel anyone who got in his way, and Regulus was glad he wasn't in the crossfire of that bat. He flinches as Sirius flings a bludger rough enough to smack Mulciber in the elbow, only feeling the slightest amount of vengeful pleasure as his captain yelps in pain. 

His eyes shift slightly, and he catches sight of James in the corner of the pitch. The way the sun fell had highlighted him in a stream of light as he flew lazy circles around the goalposts. He hadn't meant to stare, but he must have been because Muliber's grating voice broke through his trace, flying so close he almost knocked into him, "Are you just going to stare at the opposing seeker, or are you going to look for the bloody snitch?" 

He looks away immediately, successfully fighting his blush, "It's not like I can catch the thing before we're ten points up, captain. I'm ensuring he doesn't make a move for it before then." 

Mulciber grunts, not finding a flaw in the logic but sneering anyway, "Watch your tone, Black."

Regulus knows he's taking his anger out on the only Black he can, but the aggression still irks him. It takes a monumental amount of effort to bite his tongue, only nodding in response. He scans the skies dutifully, the game lasting for an excruciatingly long time due to both seekers waiting to be up points before they can secure the snitch. James has taken to feigning more frequently, laughing when Regulus inevitably falls for it. He can't find it in himself to find it annoying; the game is dull enough to warrant a bit of adrenaline every now and again to keep him on his toes. 

"How many times will you fall for that, Reggie?" James calls after the third time, eyes barely concealing his mirth. 

"How many times will you let me outpace you, Potter?"

James laughs, "I'm letting you win, obviously!"

Regulus tries to fly away, calling over his shoulder, "Whatever helps you sleep better at night!"

James keeps the pace, flying almost directly beside him, "Oi! I am way faster than you."

He knows they shouldn't be speaking in the air like this; people would most definitely talk, but he rises to the bait. "Yeah, right, I could fly laps around you in my sleep."

James gasps, flying before him and cutting him off mid-air, "Is that a bet I hear, Reggie?"

He dodges down successfully, escaping the blockade, "It's the voices in your head again, probably."

He can hear his laughter from behind, accompanied by the shout, "You're so mean!"

After another half-hour, Slytherin is finally up by the ten points he needs, and his eyes scan the pitch frantically to end the game. He's so focused that he doesn't notice James coming up to his left, "So it's a bet then, right?" 

He doesn't let up on his search, "Is what a bet, Potter? That you'll get on my nerves? Yes, you win, congratulations."

James makes a sound of mock offense, "No, that I can out-fly you easily. I bet I'll catch the snitch before you." 

Regulus huffs, finally turning his head, breath near catching in his throat when he comes face-to-face with a sweaty, red-faced James. He clears his throat, "We're in the middle of a game, in case you haven't noticed."

He smiles crookedly, lifting both hands, "If you're too scared you'll lose, just say that."

He narrows his eyes in challenge, "I know I won't lose."

"Oh, you're on!" 

He is undoubtedly a more competent flier than James, but something about the bet makes him lose focus. He's a bit worse for wear as he monitors the field for the snitch, and the collar of his Quidditch kit feels restricting. The little gold nugget enters his vision at the same time James does. They're equally as far away, diving at top speeds, and Regulus feels a rush as they get closer together. There's no way in hell he's letting James win this match after all the smack talk. 

He puts on more speed, getting close enough to the ground that James finally pulls up. He should have pulled up when James did, but he was too focused on James pulling up to remember to do so himself, the intense urge to win taking up all of his thoughts. He violently crashes into the grass, doing a forward roll off his broom. The breath is knocked entirely out of him as his face is buried into the grass. He just face-planted in front of the entire school, in front of James; he groans, mortification overtaking physical pain for just a second.

"REGGIE!" 

He rolls onto his back to regain some of his dignity, feeling like his left arm is most certainly broken. He tries to wiggle his fingers, finding the snitch securely in his grasp. James's panicked face hovers over his own, "Fuck, are you alright? Can you move?" He disappears briefly as his face blurs out of frame, "HELP!"

James seems so concerned, and he smiles at the thought. He feels out of it as he uses his right arm to slowly lift his left. It's painful, and James grabs onto him, halting his progress. "You should just stay still, Reggie. Help is coming."

Regulus shakes his head, his smile growing wider as he lifts the arm until it's almost entirely raised. The Slytherin crowd goes absolutely wild in the stands at the sight of the snitch in his hand. James's worried expression turns confused as he peers behind him to the crowd. He looks between them twice before he spots the snitch. 

"I win," Regulus croaks, head feeling floaty. 

James looks torn between concern and amusement, "That you did, Reggie. You absolute nutter."

Regulus begins to see spots in his vision, and his head lulls to the side, "Whoa, there!" James helps lower his arm to the ground while supporting his neck in the crook of his arm. "They're coming; just hold on a little longer, okay?" He tries to nod but doesn't think he can accomplish much more than a slight movement against James's chest. 

"REGULUS?" Sirius skids to a halt and kneels beside them, "Are you alright? Do you need-"

The rest of Sirius's words are lost as the world goes black; his only thought before he goes under is that this wouldn't be such a bad way to go. 

***** 

He opens his eyes slowly, his vision warped and weird. Rain rages outside, and the thunder probably woke him up. He holds up his arm to check the damage, and when he sees three of them, he sets it back down, closing his wobbly eyes.

"Reggie?" A familiar voice whispers. 

He can't help the dopey smile that forms. He tries to say James, but the name sounds a bit garbled. "Jamie?"

He laughs, and oh, what a beautiful laugh it is, "Oh, Merlin, you're super doped up on pain potions, huh?" 

He blinks, looking around for the disembodied voice. He clicks his dry tongue, trying to make it form words, but finds no success. Several hands pop out of nowhere, holding two straws before his face. "Drink some water, Reggie." The hands slip the straw between his lips when he doesn't obey because he doesn't know which straw is real. 

He drains the cup, his dry mouth feeling considerably better, "Thanksss."

When he speaks again, his face sounds closer, his voice low. "Sorry if I woke you. I just wanted to check to see if you were okay. I couldn't sleep."

Even squinting his eyes, he still can't see him, "'m I dreamin'?

James hums, "Not unless I am too."

He sighs, "Nota very good dream, is it? Can'ven see you."

"So you dream about me?" 

His eyes droop, "Mmm, s'mtimes."

"Good dreams, I hope?" 

The dopey smile is back, "Would'n you like'ta know?"

He laughs through his nose, and Regulus swears he can feel the air, "Even drugged, you're difficult? Default setting and all that?"

"Mmm," is all he can manage, words feeling like a lot of work. 

"I'm going to sleep here if that's alright. So you won't be alone?"

He wants to answer yes, that he can sleep there anytime he likes, but his mouth won't form the words, sleep dragging him under. 

*****

When he wakes the next day, he's certain that the interaction is a vivid dream. He rolls onto his side, startled when a hovering face is all he sees. Barty smiles down at him, "That was quite the show. How Potter had to carry you off the field, all concerned? How romantic." He fakes a swoon.

Regulus sighs despite his stomach flipping at the idea of James having to carry him off the pitch. "Oh, piss-off, will you? Go stalk somebody else."

He fills a glass with water, shoving it toward him, "Pomphrey put me on Regulus Black duty."

"Well, Regulus Black doesn't need anything, so if you would-"

"Nothing except James Potter's dic-"

Regulus hurriedly sits up, smacking a hand over Barty's mouth, "What the actual fuck is wrong with you?" He scans the Hospital Wing for signs anyone has heard, finding the place nearly deserted. "That's not even true. Could you please stop with that? It's not funny."

Barty forcibly removes the hand, "Fine, but only because you said please, not because I don't think it's true."

Regulus huffs, "Just leave me alone, Crouch."

He flexes his jaw, setting the water cup back down, "Fine, but let the records show I tried to be nice."

He huffs, crossing his arms, "Let the records show, you're a prying prick too, while you're at it."

He snorts, sending him a wink as he walks away. 

*****

After a couple of weeks, his friends still haven't dialed down on the James Potter jokes. If he had to walk into his dorm one more time for Evan to fall backward on the bed, calling for James to carry him away, he would lose it. He marches out of the dorm, not in any mood. He has no clue where he's going, just as long as it's not there. 

"Psstt…psstt.." Regulus pauses, looking both ways, unable to tell where the hissing is coming from. He steps forward, and something grabs his wrist, tugging him behind an old statue. He stands there, feeling quite mad, as he waves his hand in front of him to try to touch whatever it was that just tugged him. 

As his eyes scan the space, a familiar laugh sounds, "James?" He whispers, eyes dancing around the space. 

The boy's face appears out of thin air, causing him to jump back. James immediately places a hand over his mouth to keep him from yelling, "Shh, it's just me."

He shoves his hand away from his mouth, "What the hell are you doing? And how-what?" He looks down at the rest of his body, which is still unable to be seen, "Is that an invisibility cloak?" 

James smiles, "Yeah, keep it a secret though, yeah? I've just saved your life after all." 

Regulus nods stupidly as he stares at the space where James's body should be, "Saved my life? Have you gone barmy?"

James places a hand to his mouth in a shushing gesture as he adjusts the cloak to include the both of them. Regulus goes willingly, but only because it happens too fast for him to do differently. James's entire side is shoved into his when he whispers almost directly into his ear, "Well, I saved your social life, anyway."

Regulus feels like he just stepped into an alternate reality as James motions them forward, situating the cloak to ensure their feet are covered as they walk. Everything is fuzzy and distorted under the fabric but surprisingly easy to navigate. He feels the need to whisper because James had, "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

He hums conspiratorially, "Serious Marauder business in progress."

He should have known this had something to do with a stupid prank. "Sirius or serious?" he whispers back, not keeping the bitterness from his tone.

James snorts, covering his face to dispel the sound, "Both, now hush before you get us caught."

He follows the instructions, if only because he's unsure why they had to be quiet. James leads them up to the second floor, overlooking the breezeway they had just occupied, before breathing on his neck, "Alright, we're in the clear."

Regulus tries not to shiver, blurting out the first thing he can think, "Why are you lurking under an invisibility cloak?" 

James glances to the side, "Oh, I'm a lurker again, am I?"

Regulus nods, bumping his head into James's chin. "Yeah, do you go around under this thing all the time?" 

"Not all the time."

He huffs a laugh, "Try to sound more convincing next time."

"Okay, fine, I use it a fair amount, but not for any lurky reasons. It's mostly for pranks or going for walks after curfew."

"Going for walks after curfew? You expect me to believe-" BOOM. 

The sound makes him jump, and James puts an arm around his waist to steady him. He whispers into his ear, and his already fast heartbeat skyrockets, "It's just firecrackers, Reggie; it's alright." Regulus moves forward to distance them, but the cloak won't allow for any more than they already have. Students have begun flooding the corridors because of the noise, so exiting the cloak was not an option. James does not notice this internal dilemma as his body shakes with repressed laughter, "Look, Sirius was able to get Snivellus to step out; serves him right, the git."

Severus rounds the corner below, covered head-to-toe in pink glitter. Regulus brings a hand up to his mouth as he watches the boy flail around to get the glitter off. He wishes he could fully immerse himself in the humor of the situation, but James's hand has not left his waist, and it's all he can think about. 

*****

Weeks after the prank, it's still all he can think about. He catches himself getting lost in his head during mealtimes, eyes inadvertently drifting to the man of his thoughts. He was indulging in such an activity when another pair of judgy brown eyes caught his attention. The boy quirks his eyebrow as if to say 'really '? 

Barty Crouch needs to learn how to mind his own business. Regulus has about had it; every time he turns around, he feels his eyes boring into the back of his head. He can't afford another slip-up, so he tries his hardest to avoid looking at James Potter at all costs after that. 

He's set up shop in the back of the library, scribbling in his journal when someone sits across from him. He doesn't have to look up to know who it is. 

"Piss-off, Crouch."

"Testy today, are we?" 

He sighs, moving his arm over his page in case he's feeling nosy, "What do you want?" 

"What makes you think I want anything?" 

He indicates where he's sitting, "There's an entire library, and you happen to sit right here?" 

Barty rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair, "Just wanted to see if you were alright after the spectacle in Hogsmeade; it's the talk of the town, you know."

He's in no mood for riddles, staring at him blankly, "What are you talking about?" 

His eyes flick to the paper Regulus is hiding, peering this way and that to try to read the page "Potter and the Redhead." 

He blinks, the information not computing. He covers the page a bit more securely, "What about them?"

Barty squinted his eyes, "They were walking around holding hands? Even went into Puddlefoots from what I heard. Is that what you're hiding in your little diary?" 

He didn't expect that at all, his chest feeling tight. He clears his throat, turning to his journal to hide his face, "And? What does that have to do with me? I'm not hiding anything; I'm doing my homework, so if you would kindly piss off." 

It had nothing at all to do with him, so he had no idea why he was feeling a bit sick all of a sudden. So what if James got a girlfriend? It's not like they were even friends; what did it matter to him? He held his quill too tightly, causing the ink to splurge out and soak the page. Barty mutters a spell under his breath, causing the excess ink to float back into his well.

Regulus watches the ink with wide eyes, "How did you do that?" 

Barty wiggles his fingers, "Magic."

He can't help the surprised laugh, the absurdity of the statement catching him off-guard. He eyes the boy, thinking he probably had his wand in his other hand when casting the spell. Barty smiles at him, and he quickly stifles the amused expression, going back to his homework with a pit in his stomach. Barty attempts to make conversation a few more times before he gives up, pulling out his notebook, and scribbles along with him in companionable silence. 

*****

Pandora groans, "We never do anything cool, Reg! C'mon, you could just sit in the corner and read if you wanted to."

"Just go without me; I have to catch up on homework before break." 

"Regulus, do you really expect me to believe you aren't caught up on homework for the next six months?" She crosses her arms sternly, "You're going. Get dressed, or you're being dragged there like that." 

He glances down at his sleepwear, huffing in annoyance as he obeys. He would rather do anything else, but if Pandora had to get a stupid house party out of her system, he'd suffer through it to tell her no in the future. 

"I heard James is going to be there," She calls from the bed, kicking her feet over the edge like a kid. 

"So?" He tries for indifference, but he knows his face perked up at his name.

"Just thought you should know…" She eyes what he's chosen to wear, "In case you wanted to, you know, dress smartly or something?"

He looks down at the black shirt he'd dawned on, "What's wrong with this?" 

"Oh, nothing!" She purses her lips, "You might look better in blue, that's all."

"Blue?" He asks incredulously, trying to recall any blue he has in his trunk. 

"Yeah, it would make your eyes pop." She hops off the bed and flings open Evan's trunk, rifling through it and throwing a blue jumper in his direction.  

He catches it, wondering vaguely if Evan would care if he borrowed his clothes, but figuring his twin's permission was good enough. As he changes into it, he calls over his shoulder, "This is ridiculous; what I had on was just fine." 

She surveys her handiwork, "Yeah, but now you pop!" 

The party is worse than he could have imagined, and as he sits squished between far too many people on the couch, he debates leaving. The Gryffindors show up, as promised, and he watches as the third years trip over their feet to act cool in front of the fourth years. Honestly, it's a nauseating display, and he glances to the side to see if the twins are about ready to call it a night. As he's looking for his friends, Sirius claps him on the shoulder, "Branching out are we?" 

He stands, happy to call this his out: " I'm just leaving, actually. That's enough branching for me, too many people, not enough air."

His brother laughs, "At least you tried. Remus hates these things, too."

He's unsure how to respond to that, considering he doesn't know or care about the things Remus hates, when James, out of seemingly nowhere, claps his other shoulder, "Hiya, Reggie!"

He hasn't looked at him since Barty had mentioned the redhead. He turns now, getting his first face full of James Potter in weeks. It makes him weak in the knees, but he plays it off, "It's Regulus."

James pinches the fabric of the jumper between his hands. "I've never seen you wear this. Is it new?"

He stares at the contact on his shoulder, wanting it to never go away and for it to have never happened. "Oh, um, I borrowed it." 

"It's not as touch me, and I'll kill you as your usual wardrobe." 

"Mm, testing the theory?" He tries, with more bravery in his voice than he feels. 

James pulls his hand back instantly, blushing deeply, "Sorry!" 

He clears his throat, turning toward the door, "I'm actually heading out." 

James frowns, "Oh, C'mon Reggie, you're not leaving already, are you? It's just getting started."

He's remembering his prior ire, "What more could possibly happen? You drink half a Butterbeer and pretend to be buzzed? No thanks."

James seems taken aback by the targeting of the words: "They were talking about starting a game or something. That's always fun!"

Regulus cocks an eyebrow, "I'm sorry that I'll miss 'Spin-the-Bottle' or whatever riveting game I'm sure you'll come up with-"

"AH! GREAT IDEA, LET'S PLAY SPIN-THE-BOTTLE!" A fourth-year Gryffindor girl squeals right in his ear, and Regulus's stomach drops as everyone begins to agree. He had only been being cheeky; he hadn't meant for a game to actually start up. 

He begins walking backward toward the door, "You lot have fun with that; I'm going to go-"

"Oi! It was your idea!" James calls, half-laughing at his reaction, "You can't leave now, Reggie!"

He can feel his heartbeat in his ears as he reluctantly allows James to drag him to the circle, desperately wanting to be out of this situation immediately. His anxiety is so high that he tries to fill it with conversation, and his mouth asks a question against his will. "Won't your girlfriend be upset that you're kissing other people?"

James looks at him like he's lost the plot, "Girlfriend?" 

There's nothing to do except double down, "Yeah, the redhead."

"What? Lily? Don't tell me you actually believed those rumors, Reggie." 

His mind pulls up a blank at the words, unsure how he's supposed to react. Luckily, James is distracted, laughing as Sirius is forced to kiss some Hufflepuff girl to notice Regulus's conflicted face. James wasn't dating anyone? The information provides him no comfort, his anxiety actually worsening the longer he thinks about it. He's unsure what's going on with his face, but he catches Barty's eye across the circle, and he cocks an eyebrow. That's all the reminder he needs, focusing instead on the task at hand. 

He's never kissed anyone; what if it lands on him, and he has to have his first kiss in front of everyone? He'll probably be completely rubbish, and everyone will see. 

*****

He lay awake, staring at the ceiling later that night, wishing his first kiss had been with a boy. He had ample opportunity to blame it on a game if he had been called out on it. He should've taken it. Sirius didn't seem to care, leaning in and pecking Pettigrew on the lips when it had landed on them. It didn't mean the same for his brother; it would've been a bigger deal for him to have done it. If his mother so much as had an inkling about him, he'd be punished beyond belief. He sighed, daydreaming about what it would have been like to kiss Barty at that moment. The daydreams led to real dreams, and the subject of his kisses changed. 

*****

Barty drops his stuff on the library table, "You could've just kissed me, you know." 

Regulus glances up from his book, "Right to the point, I see."

"It would've made him jealous." He states matter-of-factly, stealing the book from him to read the spine. 

He snatches it back, "Is that why you tried to manipulate the bottle?"

Barty doesn't so much as flinch at the accusation, "Well, yeah. Seeing you kiss me would've made him jealous for sure."

"And kissing Dorcas, didn't?" 

Barty smirks, "Mm, so you admit you wanted to make him jealous?" 

Regulus pauses, realizing his mistake, "I didn't say that."

"You implied it." He sings songs, taking things out of his bag. 

He turns back to his book, jaw clenched, "Piss-off, Crouch." 

He grabs at his heart, "One of these days, that sentence will lose its sting, you know." 

"One of these days, you might actually listen." 

He laughs, leaning forward on his elbows, "Can I sit here if I promise not to talk?"

Regulus lazily flips through the pages of his book, "You're not going to try to kiss me, are you?"

He snorts, propping his feet on the table, "In your dreams, Black." 

"What was that about not talking?" 

After that, he mimes, zipping his lips, and they work in silence for only two minutes. Barty taps the table to get his attention, and when he looks up, he brings his wand tip to his temple before flinging it toward him. Regulus thinks to duck, but it is too late. Barty's voice enters his head.

Does this count as talking?  

Regulus startles, mouth dropping open, "How the fuck did you just do that?" Barty tilts his head, lips moving, but no sound comes out. He resists the urge to groan at the joke, "You can speak. Salazar, you're dramatic. Has anyone ever told you that?" 

Barty smiles brightly, "Only everyone I've ever known." 

That doesn't surprise him in the slightest, "So how'd you do that?" 

"Like I'd share my secrets when you don't share yours."

"I don't have any secrets."

He nods knowingly, "You're right; you show everything on your face." 

"I do not."

"Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you do. You should really work on hiding what you're feeling. It's obvious to anyone who's looking." 

He rolls his eyes at the analysis, going back to his book: "There's never anybody looking."

His following words are so low that Regulus thinks he might have imagined them, "I am." 

When he looks up, Barty doesn't show any indication that he has spoken, so he ignores it. After several seconds, Barty sighs, "He was staring daggers at Dorcas all night after that." 

Regulus feels his stomach flutter, "Oh?" 

"Yeah. If looks could kill, she'd've been dead for sure." 

He snorts, "You are so full of it." 

Barty shrugs, smirking deviously, "If you say so." 

*****

"Oh, isn't this lovely? They didn't decorate like this in past years!" Dorcas coos as they all enter the Great Hall. Regulus resists the urge to groan as the hearts and pink streamers enter his line of vision. Is it too much to ask to skip this particular holiday? He settles in, brushing the pink glitter off of his place setting. 

Valentine's zip to and from tables at insane speeds, and he spends most of breakfast dodging the little buggers so that he doesn't get whacked. He ducks as one approaches his head again, but it pauses before it hits him. He stares at it, confused, before Evan elbows him with a laugh, "Think it's meant for you, mate!"

He stares at it, swiping it out of the air before it calls any more attention to him. His heartbeat picks up, and he wonders fleetingly if James had sent him something and then pauses at the thought. He doesn't know why he would hope that, tearing the little letter on the candy open before he can think much of it. He's instantly disappointed when he doesn't recognize the handwriting, and his face shows it because Pandora laughs as she pulls it from his hands. 

She clears her throat, reading aloud as he tries to steal it back, "You didn't get any Valentines, and that feels like a waste. You should meet me after potions and finally get a taste. Or whatever the fuck rhymes." She cackles loudly, drawing many eyes toward their section of the table. 

He feels his cheeks burn as he tries to snatch it back, "Give that back!" 

Evan steals it next, placing a hand over his mouth. "I thought she was joking. Merlin, who is this from? It's quite crude, isn't it?" 

He successfully steals it back from Evan, holding it in the air when he tries to take it again, "Could you two cut it out? I don't know who it's from; it's probably just a joke."

He looks around, hoping they haven't caused too much of a scene. His eyes meet James's, as they are prone to, and he's never seen him look so miffed. His eyes narrow before he slowly blinks once, jaw clenched tightly as he turns his head. Regulus doesn't know why he feels the urge to apologize. Still, he has to stop himself from stomping across to the Gryffindor table to make sure everything is okay. 

He distracts himself by looking at the candy again, rolling his eyes when he realizes it's a Fizzing Whizzbee. He rips the note off, stuffing it into his pocket for later inspection. However, he already has suspicions about who could have sent it. He passes the sweet to Dorcas, the twins having gotten on his nerves. 

She immediately pops it into her mouth, cheekily calling loudly over her shoulder as she stands, "Of course, I'll be your Valentine, Reg!"

The twins both look at him with cocked eyebrows, and he subtly flips them both off, "You don't deserve sweets." He whispers as he grabs his bag and leaves for class with Dorcas instead. 

*****

As he walked into the courtyard later, another Valentine stopped directly in front of his face. He intends to ignore it, turning his face as if he doesn't see. The thing comes back with a vengeance, thwacking him on the head a second later. He swats his hand, hoping it'll just go away, but it increases in speed, hitting him in every available spot. He narrows his eyes at the note, sure now that someone had jinxed it. 

His friends are doubled over at the scene, "Just grab it, Reg!" 

Dorcas attempts to catch it as it nosedives toward him. "You might as well take it, mate. It's obviously not going to go away." 

He huffs, snatching it from the air and ripping it open.  

Roses are red, 

Violets are blue, 

I'm testing the theory that looks can kill, 

As the French say, Sacre Bleu  

XOXOXOXO

The note causes an unattractive snort, and his eyes roll of their own accord as he realizes the culprit of the note sending, scanning the courtyard for Barty. Although the note was meant to be a play on words, he still finds it endearing that he included something in French. He's fluttery at the thought of Barty sitting down to think out these notes and thinking of sending them on Valentine's Day. He steels himself, knowing he should be frustrated at the boy instead. 

Dorcas reads over his shoulder, and he panics before he re-reads the note. He is oddly touched that Barty hadn't included anything telling. He looks around, sure he will see him lurking about somewhere. Dorcas squints at the note, "What does this even mean?" 

Regulus shrugs, stuffing the note in his pocket because he doesn't want to throw it out, "I have no clue; it's probably just a prank."

Evan doesn't look like he believes him, "Was it another note asking you to meet them somewhere?" 

"No." 

"So you don't know who these are from?"

He feels Barty can't be far, but he can't spot him anywhere. He answers before he thinks through his response, "I do." 

"Who is it then? You haven't told us about anyone?" 

He finally catches sight of him in an alcove. He breaks away from his friends, "I'll talk to you guys later, okay?" 

They call after him, but he doesn't turn back around. He passes by the alcove, muttering, "Meet me in the library, our table."

He goes the long way in case he's being followed, which feels overkill, but he doesn't want his friends to ask him any more questions than they already will. Barty beats him to the table, smiling smugly, "Seems you got my Valentines then, sweetheart?"

Regulus can't believe this boy's audacity. "Are you mad? Why did you do that?" 

Barty rolls his eyes, "Call it a social experiment." 

He sputters, "A social experiment?"

"Yeah, I told you he was jealous, and you didn't believe me."

"He's not jealous, Barty, don't be daft."

Barty cocks an eyebrow, "If anyone is daft here, it's you. What do you mean he's not jealous? He practically wanted to set those notes on fire with his eyes." 

"He doesn't like boys, and even if he did, it's not like he could. People would talk."

Barty pulls a face, "What ?" 

He can't even begin to fathom how he doesn't understand, "It's like social suicide." 

Barty wrinkles his nose as he rises from his chair. "We wouldn't want that, would we?" 

Regulus sighs, "Yes, exact- hey- what-where are you going?" 

Barty stomps out of the library without a backward glance, and as much as Regulus has told him to piss off in the past, his stomach sinks as he watches him walk away. 

*****

He debates for hours before deciding to send Barty a Valentine, too. He folds the note hastily before he can talk himself out of it, sticking it to a mini-chocolate frog and bringing it with him to dinner so he can send it from under the table. 

Cette note sera difficile à traduire, et elle ne dit rien du tout. 

Je suis désolé si je vous contrarié. 

J'espère que ce chocolat sera de bonnes excuses.

Or whatever the fuck rhymes. 

R.A.B.

("This note will be difficult to translate, and it says nothing at all. 

I'm sorry I upset you.

I hope this chocolate will be a good apology.

Or whatever the fuck rhymes.”)

He sends it without much flair, watching with bated breath out of the corner of his eye as Barty looks at the note in front of him with surprise. He gently plucks it from the air, so far removed from the confident behavior he usually exudes. He watches him softly smile at the note before ripping off the bottom piece and swiveling in his seat to the Slytherin table. He taps Narcissa on the shoulder, and she turns, a polite smile already in place.  

Was he telling his cousin that he'd just sent him a Valentine? Was he upset enough that he wanted to get him into trouble? He drops all pretenses of not watching as he feels time move in slow motion. Narcissa takes the note, scans the words before saying something with a laugh, and hands the note back. Barty throws back his head in a laugh that Regulus cannot hear, his ears feeling like they are stuffed with cotton. The scene finally makes sense as he realizes Barty must have torn off the bit with his signature and asked the first person he knew who spoke French for a translation. 

Barty doesn't try to catch his eye, probably because it would be obvious now if Narcissa were paying any attention. Still, the smile is enough to know that he's probably out of the doghouse. 

*****

He's disappointed when he finds the Quidditch pitch occupied before dinner, wanting to exercise in peace. There's rarely anybody out here before dinner, and it's just his luck that they occupy the field on the one day he really needs to clear his head. He heads up anyway, hoping they will stay on one side of the field and not bother him. He's halfway through his first drill when that is proven to be a false hope. The person zooms past him at maximum speed, and he dodges out of their way. "Oi! Watch it!" 

A laugh is his only response, and his heart picks up as he realizes it's James. The boy does several impressive loopy-loops before circling back around toward him. "Hey, Reggie!"

He tries to act miffed, flying away, “Is there a reason you just tried to run me over?” 

James laughs, following after him as he hoped he would: “Just checking your reflexes! Wanna practice together?” 

He turns, instantly intrigued, “Practice together? Isn’t that against some kind of rule?” 

James’s face lights up as he realizes he’s not getting an outright ‘no’: “No rule that I’ve seen. Besides, if we don’t practice our positions, then no one can really say anything, either.” 

“If we don’t practice our positions, then what’s the point of practicing?” Regulus points out, not understanding who exactly that would help.

“Strength training, reflexes, general exercise,” James lists off on one hand. “Plus, I think it would be fun! We never get to play together unless we’re in a game, and that’s always so tense.”

Regulus purses his lips, debating if this is a good idea. At James’s pleading gaze, he rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Okay, fine, but only for a little bit.”

James’s smile could rival the sun, “Race you to the goalpost!”

They stay out well into dinner starting, but he’s having too much fun to care, his body dripping in sweat as he races James around the pitch again. They’d stopped keeping score, but he’s certain he’s beaten him more times than not. “C’mon, Potter, I think that turtle over there is going to outpace you!” 

James laughs goodnaturedly, picking up speed, “I’m just letting you win so you don’t whinge about me beating you all the time.”

He slows to a stop as they get to their goal, breathing heavily, “Keep telling yourself that.” 

James’s face is red from the exertion as he screeches to a halt beside him, “I’m starved! Let’s go in for dinner.”

His body is pumped too full of energy to think about stopping, “No, you go, I think I’ll stay out longer.”

“Reggie, we’ve been out here for well over an hour. You could probably do with a rest.”

“I’m fine, you go!” He turns to make another lap, but James reaches out a hand, grabbing onto the back of his shirt. His heart thumps at the contact, but he scowls, “Have you gone barmy? Let me go!” 

James shakes his head, “You should at least come in and get some water if you’re not going to eat. It’s hot out here.” 

His eyes dance between the hand fisted in his shirt and James’s earnest eyes. He sighs, knowing there’s no arguing his point. “Okay, fine, but only because my friends might wonder where I am if I miss dinner.”

His shirt is released as James dives toward the ground, and he follows him down, wondering if he’s going to insist on walking him to the dining hall. James takes his broom from his hands, carrying it along with his own, and he stares down at his empty hands in shock. He’s unsure why James would carry his broom for him, but the boy doesn’t say anything as he walks to the shed to place them in their respective lockers. 

As he’s walking back out, Regulus awkwardly clears his throat, “Erm, thanks.”

“Oh, sorry!” James realizes what he’d done, “Was just instinct, I guess.” 

Regulus can feel his blush, willing it to chill, “That’s okay.” 

Their hands brush as they walk, and Regulus fights the urge to reach out, knowing James would find that incredibly weird. They don’t say anything until they are entering the Great Hall, and James turns suddenly as Regulus veers off toward his table, “We should do this again sometime!”

Realizing they’re in front of half the student body, Regulus wills his face to stay neutral, just nodding his head once. James smiles brightly, shooting him a wink that he wishes he wouldn’t, with too many eyes on them for comfort. He walks with his head down to his table, not wanting to call any more attention to himself than he already has. Pandora and Evan greet him with equal amounts of cheeky smiles, but as he scans the Great Hall, a pair of eyes glare at him from the Ravenclaw table. 

*****

The attention drawn from their spectacle at dinner prompts his Maman to write a letter reminding him of the company he keeps. He balls it up at breakfast, not only embarrassed that someone had felt the need to tell her but that he'd been so careless about walking around with him. His heart hurts, knowing he'd never be able to be real friends with him, let alone anything else. His family would never allow that kind of behavior from him, and he should nip it in the bud before it's too late. He scowls at his breakfast, thinking through all the ways he wishes his life could be different. 

*****

Barty sends him enough furious looks over the next few weeks that he wants to scream. He has no clue what he did. He seems pissed out of seemingly nowhere. He assumes he must still be miffed about that stupid kissing game, and he kicks himself for the thousandth time for being a coward. Nothing had happened since then, so there was no other reason for him to be angry with him unless the conversation they had had about James had continued to tick him off. He's getting ready for the playoff game against Ravenclaw as he's remembering the last nasty sneer Barty at thrown him over breakfast.

"You ready to go, Black?" Mulciber calls into the changing room. 

He rounds the corner, grabbing his broom, "Yeah, all good." 

"If your fingers so much as inch toward that snitch before were forty points up, you're off the team, got it?" 

He doesn't resist the urge to roll his eyes, "Got it."

Mulciber looked like he wanted to rage about the insubordination. They began calling the teams out as he opened his mouth so he was saved from the berating. Regulus knows he'll pay for it later, but he rushes out of the changing rooms regardless. 

He scans the crowd as he flies out, waving at his friends as he passes, doing a double take when he sees two people he hadn't expected. James and Sirius sit with his friends, and he can't help but smile at the show of support. For Sirius to have inched anywhere near the Slytherin stands would have taken an act of extreme willpower.

He circles back around despite his captain calling to get in position. He intends to send a wink toward his brother, but his eyes are plastered to James as soon as he notices the Slytherin scarf around his neck. He throws his head back in a laugh, wondering if James had lost a bet, but shoots the wink toward him nonetheless, feeling brave. The green suits him more than red does; his warm-toned skin glows in the color. 

He regrets his brazen behavior about two seconds after it happens, chastising himself for being so weak when it comes to James. Anyone in the stands could have seen that wink. It was reckless behavior that would no doubt get him an earful if it got back to his Maman. He fully immerses himself in the game to keep from thinking about it. 

The game is brutal, but one thing is for certain: Barty Crouch is bound and determined to knock him off his broom. It's rare that the seeker is ever the target of the bludgers, especially when they aren't actively chasing the snitch. Still, at every possible opportunity, Barty lobs the thing in his direction. Despite being a constant target, he still catches the snitch in the end, about ready to kill Barty with his bare hands. 

He waits until everyone has cleared out of the Ravenclaw changing rooms, barging in and slamming the door, "What the hell was that, Crouch? You could've killed me!" 

Barty only looks surprised for half a second before fury overtakes his features, “Yeah, well we wouldn’t want anyone to know you were almost killed by a boy, oh how they might talk!”

Regulus throws up his arms, “What the bloody fuck does that even MEAN?”

Barty stalks forward, “It means you’re a coward, Regulus Black.”

He flinches, having been told that too many times in his life. He grabs his shirt, pulling him toward him, “What’s your problem?” 

“I BLOODY LIKE YOU, YOU DICKHEAD!” Barty yells, the announcement echoing around the empty walls.

They both gasp at the admission, staring at each other with wide eyes. Regulus’s mind goes blank as he surges forward, finally capturing Barty’s lips with his own. They’re both sweaty and dirty, but he doesn’t care, euphoria coursing through his system. Regulus pulls back, his hand still firmly gripping his shirt, “Yeah, well, I bloody like you too, you twat.” 

They both laugh, kissing again as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

After several more kisses, he pulls back, heart racing more than it ever has in his life. His rage clearly spurred on his confidence because he was unsure how to proceed once he was left with the consequences of his actions. He loosens his grip on Barty's shirt, stepping back only a little before Barty gently grabs his neck, pulling their foreheads together, "I know you don't like me as much as you like him, but you could? And-and we don't have to tell anybody if-if you don't want to." 

Regulus's mind feels blank, "Okay," is all he can manage, his voice feeling lightyears away. 

Barty pulls back, his honey-brown eyes full of hope, "Okay?" 

Regulus nods, unable to keep his smile at bay, never realizing this was a possibility, "Okay."

Barty pulls him in for another kiss, both of them smiling too much for it to be any kind of proper thing. He's inexperienced in every form of the word, so he doesn't know what happens next or what this even means. Still, he's giddy at the prospect of whatever is happening. 

Barty lets him go, and he misses his hands immediately, "Let me put away my stuff, and then we can go to dinner?" 

"Yeah, that's-yeah."

Barty shakes his head, smiling as he begins tossing things into his locker, "Oh no, I've kissed him stupid."

He snorts, shoving him with his shoulder, "Oh, piss-off." 

They keep a decent distance between them as they leave the locker rooms, and they start talking about the game when several calls stop them, "Reggie? Oi! Regulus!" He'd recognize the voices anywhere, stopping to turn around to find James and Sirius jogging to catch up with them. He scans their surroundings to ensure they're alone, hopeful this encounter isn't reported back to his parents. 

James takes the lead, smiling overly enthusiastically, "Reggie! We were waiting for you outside the locker rooms. Holy shit, you played so well today! I really thought you were a goner after-" he pauses, taking in Barty for the first time, "Oh, um, hi, didn't you just try to kill him like four times?" 

Barty's smile looks painful as he eyes James, so Regulus answers, "Yeah, it was a bet we had; it's fine." He doesn't miss the way Barty cocks his head in his direction at the lie. Truthfully, he'd like nothing more than to indulge James in a conversation about the game. Still, he doesn't think that's the right call after what just happened in the locker room. He addresses his brother instead, "Thanks for coming; I didn't expect you to sit on my side."

Sirius smiles, ruffling Regulus's hair annoyingly. "Of course, I'd come; my baby brother was playing in the playoffs."

He ducks out from under his hand, "Could you not?" 

Sirius wrinkles his nose anyway, rubbing his hand on the back of James's sleeve, "Tu n'aurais pas pu au moins prendre une douche?" ("Couldn't you have at least taken a shower?")

He crosses his arms, ignoring his blush at the reminder of why exactly he didn't shower, "Ne me touche pas et tu n'auras pas à t'en inquiéter." ("Don't touch me and you won't have to worry about it.”)

"Egh, lesson learned." He continues wiping his hand on James's sleeve, and Regulus's eyes drop to the scarf again, wondering again if he'd lost a bet. 

James notices the look, following his eyes down to the scarf, "Oh! I've been meaning to give this back!" He untangles it from his neck and, to his surprise, steps forward and begins wrapping it around his own. Regulus stands stock still, sure that if he moved, he'd wake up from this dream in a cold sweat. 

He's sure his face displays all the shock he's feeling, but it's like looking in a mirror when he meets his brother's eyes: "I thought you just used a color-changing charm or something. Why'd you have my brother's scarf?" 

James shrugs nonchalantly, "Borrowed it ages ago; he saved me from death."

"Saved you from death?" Sirius asks, "And this is the first I'm hearing about this?"

"You remember, don't you, Reggie?" James turns his bright eyes on him, and he feels like a deer in the headlights of a fast-moving train. 

Of course, he remembers; he's replayed that moment in his mind a million times, but all he can force out through his dry throat is, "'Course." 

Sirius and James begin bickering, and he tunes them out, feeling short of breath as he's suffocated by the scarf around his neck. He's completely surrounded by James Potter's scent and feels a bit mad with it, trying his hardest not to inhale deeply. 

Barty steps forward, and Regulus is embarrassed to admit, even to himself, that he had forgotten he was there. "Now that he's got his clothes back, we've really got to get going. I'm sure our friends are worried." He grabs him by the wrist, pulling him toward the castle. He doesn't hear any of their goodbyes, feeling like he's in a daze as he trips along behind Barty. He comes to a halt, swinging him around into an alcove, laughing as he clicks in front of his face, "Earth to Regulus."

He blinks rapidly, ripping the scarf off his neck as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't, "Sorry." 

He snorts, "Don't be, that was brutal." He doesn't understand why he's being so nice? Hadn't he done something wrong? Barty reaches forward, feeling the scarf between his fingertips, "Are you ready to go to the Great Hall, or do you need a minute?" 

He regards the boy in front of him, so surprised by his acceptance that he feels the urge to cry. He will not be doing that, so he swallows down the emotion instead, using all the bravery he can muster to kiss him on the cheek. Barty looks surprised, hand coming up to cup the place Regulus had just kissed. "I'm ready."

Barty's eyes flit between both of his a few times before nodding, jerking his head toward the castle, "Then let's get a move on, slow poke. I'm starved."

He goes to follow, looking down at the scarf in his hands once before depositing it on the ledge of the alcove. Barty gives him a funny look, but his smile is peeking through too much to have the judgy look pack any punch.

Later that night, as he lay awake staring at his ceiling, he fleetingly wished for the scarf to curl up against, hating himself immensely as chocolate brown eyes entered his dreams. 

*****

Although his friends were initially confused, Barty integrated seamlessly into his friend group. He didn't tell them outright that they were together, but he didn't necessarily hide it, especially not from the twins. He would catch one of them staring at their hand placements or quirk their head to the side when they'd speak to each other sweetly. He knew they would not care or tell anyone, so he was also having a bit of fun messing with them. He'd gotten Barty in on the plan and had been steadily pulling more ridiculous gestures to see which one would say something first. 

They'd all gathered by the lake after term ended, far enough out that no one would mess with them. He was saying something when Barty grabbed his flailing hand mid-sentence, kissing a knuckle. It took everything in him not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the gesture, sure that Pandora would have to say something this time. He looks over; sure enough, she's fuming but doesn't look like she's about to say anything.

Barty groans, laying down on his back, patting the space beside him for Regulus to do the same. He does him one better, scooting his body horizontally to lay his head on his stomach. He is only slightly worried that someone could come around the bend at any moment. 

"Okay, that's it!" Pandora yells, flipping around to face them fully

"Panda-" Evan starts, but she cuts him off. 

"No, why won't you tell us that you're together? Do you not trust us? Is that it?" 

He turns sideways to see Barty's face, which is his first mistake; as soon as they make eye contact, they laugh too hard to respond. He sits up, wiping at his eyes, "Fucking hell, it took you long enough."

Pandora stares at them, lips quirked up, "What?"

"I had my money on Evan, so thanks for that!" Barty groans, throwing a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun. 

"You were betting on how long it took us to figure it out?" Pandora asks, "Hate to break it to you, but that was ages ago." 

Regulus shakes his head, "No, we were betting on how long it would take you to say something." 

She smacks Evan on the shoulder, "See? I told you we should've said something."

Evan rubs his shoulder, "You never know with him; remember that one time we mentioned Potter, and he looked like his head was going to explode?" 

She snorts, "Which time?" 

He shoots them both the finger, "I was not that bad, shut up.'

"Subtlety of a stink bomb, love." Barty chuckles, kissing him on the cheek as if that soothes the sting.

He playfully shoves him off, laughing it off as if the need to be subtle wasn't still a real worry.