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December 31st, 1979
Regulus Black felt he was particularly abrupt on the night that he died. For someone as short spoken as he, Regulus finds no difficultly in being overly abrupt, but on that night… Regulus had regrets, he can admit that to himself, even if only in a damp cave haunted by images of the people he knew screaming at him.
Regulus had not lived the best of lives. He was not the best of men, despite his final attempts to make things right. He knows this as fact. Even still, just before Regulus left on his mission to destroy the locket, he’d been particularly abrupt to someone he hadn’t spoken to since Hogwarts.
Of all life’s regrets, there are none Regulus think about more than James Potter.
… … …
December 31st, 1977
Regulus Black was thinking about James Potter. This wasn’t a new thing, over the years Regulus had thought about James an innumerable amount. However, the tone of them was different this time.
Regulus has not lived the best of lives. He is not the best of men, that would be James Potter. His tan skin, wild hair, and those expressive eyes almost criminally hidden by those round, obnoxious glasses. There was a lot about James to both love and hate.
There were a lot of people who would say, without hesitation, that Regulus Black hates James Potter. They would back this statement up with mentions of Sirius Black and the many petty arguments shared between all three of them. As everyone knows the history of the Black brothers, of how James got between the two and how they’ve never been the same since. Obviously, they would all be wrong, to an extent.
Regulus hadn’t hated James but he hadn’t liked him either until a fateful night, just days before. They both found themselves in the Astronomy Tower around the time they were supposed to be sleeping.
James startled Regulus by asking, “Do you make it a habit of stargazing so late at night, baby Black?” Followed by the crumpling and folding of parchment.
Regulus had looked over his shoulder, already mourning the loss of peace in his head. “Do you have it a habit of referring to everyone as baby, Potter?” He drawled back.
“Oh no, baby Black, I reserve that right for you alone,” James quickly responded, shuffling a bit closer. He eventually sat down on the floor nearby, but far enough for Regulus to still be comfortable. They both sat and stared at each other for a few fleeting seconds. Regulus wishes he could say that image of James Potter sitting there washed in the soft glow of the moon with his hair ruffled and the softest expression on his face hadn’t affected him that much. That would be a lie though, and as much as Regulus may bend the truth to others, he does not lie to himself. Maybe that was the moment, he later reflected, maybe it was seeing James in that moment that changed Regulus so inherently. Or, most likely, it was the moments that occurred after, the short conversation they’d had.
Those few seconds felt important even though very little had changed before Regulus looked away. It was a beautifully clear night, the snow had stopped falling for a couple of hours. If Regulus had ever told this story out loud, he would’ve said that the night sky had his full attention for the minutes before James had opened his mouth again.
“Regulus,“ He paused, let in a deep breathe, “I know we haven’t spoken much. I know we have issues between us, but I want you to know you can come to me, if you need to.”
Regulus tensed and whipped his eyes back onto James, they must’ve been storming, because James quietly tacked on, “Sirius, too. Not just me, Reggie.”
“What makes you think I’d need to go to you, Potter?” Regulus snapped, almost spitting the last name out in response to the nickname James had said so softly.
“I don’t think you need me, Reggie,” there was that name again, “I just know that everyone needs someone. Even if you and Sirius aren’t talking anymore you’re still brothers. I know he cares for you, and I bet you care for him too. If something were to happen to you it would break his heart, mine too. I just need you to know this before we leave Hogwarts. No matter what happens in the future, if you come to me I’ll welcome you with open arms,” James finished, uncharacteristically serious.
Regulus let out a breathe, and his shoulders fell from where they were tensed. The silence that followed James’ declaration felt like the loudest moment in Regulus’ life. Mine too. James had said. Open arms. He’d said. Regulus didn’t know how to respond in the moment, and he still didn’t in the days the followed.
So here he is now, Regulus Arcturus Black is laying in bed thinking about the conversation, admittedly it had been a bit too one-sided to be called a conversation. The point stands, however, Regulus was thinking about James. About the moonlight casting over tan skin, about the slight glare from those glasses when James moved. Regulus won’t lie, he knew James was attractive before that night. Every First Year at Hogwarts will say that either James Potter or Remus Lupin was their gay awakening. Regulus, begrudgingly, was no different his First Year upon seeing James for the first time. What he didn’t think about before that night, was that James is attractive in other ways. He’s kind and loyal, in ways Regulus really hadn’t expected or experienced since his falling out with Sirius years ago.
Regulus would keep thinking about that night, he would replay it over and over and imagine himself responding in a million different ways for the next two years.
… … …
December 24th, 1979
Regulus was thinking about James Potter. There’s no mistaking the choices that have lead Regulus to where he is in his life right now. He’s been pacing back and forth inside his room at Grimmauld Place for who knows how long, thinking and debating to himself.
“ No matter what happens in the future, if you come to me I’ll welcome you with open arms.”
That’s what James had said. Regulus stopped cold and stared down at the mark that marred his arm.
Regulus has not lived the best of lives. He was not the best of men. He was repeated these words, these facts, to himself over and over again if just to keep himself away from James. There’s this secret he’s learned, and it’s getting exceedingly difficult to not go running to the only person in the world who can say something like that and have Regulus believe him wholeheartedly even years after.
Regulus starts his pacing again.
… … …
December 31st, 1979
Regulus Black wasn’t thinking about James Potter. He was standing in front of James’ door, hand poised to knock. Regulus, in this moment, was instead thinking about how idiotic he, a marked member of the Dark Lord’s closest inner circle, is for showing up to James’ house like this. Regulus grips his cloak tighter, braces himself, and knocks.
He hears shuffling behind the door, some loud bangs, and then muffled footsteps that slowly got louder the closer to the door James got. It swung open and if Regulus thought the silence that night two years ago was the loudest, he can confidently say that this silence was louder.
He lets out a soft, “James…”
And gets a somehow softer, “…Reggie,” in return.
The next few moments are a blur as James rushes Regulus inside and into the living room. They take seats on opposite sides of the same couch, and just sit and stare at each other for a couple seconds.
If this was James’ story, he would wish that he could say the image of Regulus Black sitting there on his couch with his hair peeking out of his deep green cloak and the most hopeful expression on his face hadn’t affected him that much.
However, this is Regulus’ story, and so he speaks first, “James,” deep breathe, “I figured I would take you up on your offer. If it’s… still available, that is.”
James is nodding before he’s even aware of it, it seems, because suddenly he’s nodding even harder, “Y-yeah, yeah, yes ! Regulus. Of course it’s still open! It’s always open to you.”
He’s so painfully soft, it makes Regulus’ heart wrench, and before he knows it words are spilling out of his mouth non-stop. All Regulus can do is talk and fumble his way around an explanation of everything he’s been trying to accomplish recently. That explanation that he’s not loyal to Voldemort like everyone thinks he is. He’s didn’t take such a hideous mark because he believes the contrived drivel the other pure bloods are regurgitating constantly. He has a plan. Regulus honestly doesn’t know why he felt the need to go to James before doing what he had planned today.
Maybe Regulus just needed someone, anyone, to listen to him, to know and understand what he’s doing and why he’s doing it before he dies. Because he knows he’s dying today.
There is no maybe about it, actually. Regulus Arcturus Black is scared to die. He is not a good man, he has not lived the best of lives. He knows this as fact, and this leads Regulus to his next moments. He clamps his mouth shut and shoves up off of James’ couch.
“I’m sorry… James, I’m so sorry I came, or I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, or.. I’m sorry for so much,” Regulus confesses, he’s not usually this emotional, is he already mourning himself?
James follows him off the couch.
“Reggie..”
“I need to leave, I need to go—“
“Reg,”
“I really shouldn’t have bothered you like this I just needed someone to hear me before I—“
“Regulus!” James shouts.
Regulus stops his frantic talking and movements to look James in the eye.
“If you need forgiveness Regulus, then fine, you’re forgiven,” James’ voice is steady, “Just please don’t leave again. We can figure this all out, together.”
It’s the tone of voice, the look in his eyes, the expression that flashes Regulus back to the Astronomy Tower all at once. He blinks and is back in the present.
His mistakes are many, and the biggest one is staring him in the face when he realizes something crucial.
James is going to want to come with him.
If Regulus tells him he’s leaving right now to go for the locket, James will come with him and he’ll die with him in that cave.
Together. James had said. Together. Regulus chose to ignore. He backed away from James without and word and stormed out. He apparated as soon as he passed the house wards and never looked back. He didn’t see the crushed look on James’ face.
So, you could say Regulus Black was particularly abrupt on the night that he died. For someone who was as short spoken as he was, Regulus had no difficultly in being overly abrupt. Regulus had regrets, of which he only ever admitted to himself and one other person.
Of all life’s regrets after that night, there are none James Potter thinks about more than Regulus Black.