The Stag and The Harpy | James Potter

No one

{{hopefully you guys like this. It was kind of a surprise for me too! I'm still figuring out what I want to do with Regulus}}

The silence is deafening.

Phoebe glances back and forth between James and Regulus, finally breaking the quiet and whispering, "James—"

"Absolutely not," James says firmly, already knowing what she's going to ask. He wouldn't take his wand off of him. Not until he knew. James swallows roughly, asking lowly,

"Ask him something only he would know, Bee."

Phoebe looks at James with wide eyes before glancing back at Regulus. He's watching her silently, hands raised in the air. He's unarmed. But James is right. She had to know.

"Christmas. What did I give you for Christmas my seventh year?"

Regulus' lips twitch slightly.

"A bloody cigarette," He responds with a hint of mirth. Phoebe nods shakily before she launches herself at him, hugging him tightly. The boy hesitates before wrapping his arms around her as well, hugging her back.

"Merlin's beard," Phoebe whispers incredulously. "What are you doing here?!"

"Same as you. Snooping around," He responds quietly, his eyes clenching shut. He thought he'd never see her again. He didn't know if this was going to make things easier or harder. But hugging her makes the anxiety and doubt flee his mind, his face hiding in the crook of her shoulder.

A throat clears uncomfortably, a grumpy voice following, "Watch where your putting your hands, Reg."

Regulus chuckles quietly, not sure when the last time he'd heard James Potter address him. He lifts his head from the veela's shoulder, saying tiredly,

"Don't worry, James. I'm too exhausted to grope your girl."

He pauses, eyes flickering back and forth between the still shocked girl and her scowling boyfriend.

"You don't happen to have firewhiskey do you?" Regulus wonders. James' face morphs into confusion. And then amusement. He slowly shakes his head before glancing at Phoebe.

The Veela is already smiling sheepishly. She unzips her jumper slightly before reaching inside and pulling out a flask. At James' horrified look she defends, "Sirius and I managed to put extension charms on the inside pocket of our jumpers. We're just lucky I'm wearing the right one!"

James bites back a smile as she hands the flask to Regulus, her eyes still wide with surprise. They watch as he takes a long drink. He looks older. His hair is shorter now, still curling behind his ears. And there's a scar on the side on his cheek that makes Phoebe want to cry. Her smile is weak when he hands her back her flask. He notices.

Regulus smiles faintly at the Veela, grabbing her outstretched hand and squeezing gently as he mumbles, "I-I haven't done what we talked about last time."

Phoebe nods vigorously, ignoring James confused look as she asks, "Why not? Have you found the information you were looking for? Is it here?"

Regulus smiles ruefully and shakes his head. He goes to let go of her hand when his eyes catch something new. His smile turns into a genuine grin as he gently touches the ring on her finger. He looks so much like Sirius it makes her heart hurt.

"Congrats, Phoebe," He laughs, sounding hoarse. Like it had been a long time since he'd tried to be happy. He glances up at James and smirks, saying, "You're going to be exhausted, Potter."

James chuckles when Phoebe asks indignantly, "Why does everyone act like I'm so hard to deal with?"

Regulus shakes his head, smiling to himself. She'd never know. Never know that the kindness she'd showed him gave him more time. Made him care to want more time. He sighs and answers her honestly, "You have a way about you that makes people want to do...more. It's fucking exhausting."

She rolls her eyes, asking exasperatedly, "Can we quit talking in riddles?" Her grey eyes zero in on his as she pleads, "Can you at least tell us something? Anything about what it is you're doing?"

James quirks a brow at the boy, feeling Phoebe grow frustrated from beside him. She frustrated that he won't say anything. Regulus is frustrated because he can't. James gently touches the veela's arm, hoping that she'll get the message. He might not be able to tell them anything. When she glances up at him she's slightly calmer. James turns back to Regulus, saying firmly,

"Just tell us one thing. Who's side are you on?"

Regulus hesitates, looking at James. He swallows roughly, willing his mouth to open. Words won't form, his lips won't part. His throat grows tighter.

"Fucking hell!" Phoebe cries, earning two sets of surprised eyes. "I know for a fact that you aren't mute!"

James grabs her swinging arms in his. He knows why she's truly upset. She wants to save this boy. And she can't. Not unless he helps.

"He can't, Phoebe," James mutters, squeezing her arms. "He can't answer all our questions, not if he wants to live."

"No one."

James and Phoebe both turn their heads to look at Regulus. He looks like he's going to be ill, discussing this. He sighs and says lowly, "I don't trust Dumbledore or his Order. And I don't agree with Voldemort. So, no one."

James bristles, asking irritably, "Why don't you—"

"Not everyone is just good or just bad, Potter. Most people have some of each. Someone in your crew has been poking around the Dark Arts. I don't know who it is, but you'd best be careful."

James' eyes grow wide and Phoebe freezes next to him. He answers their questioning faces, saying tiredly,

"I've tried. I'm trying. Severus and I—"

James squawks incredulously, "Severus? You're working with Snape?!"

Phoebe looks equally as perplexed, though this time it's her turn to calm James with a hand to his arm. Regulus sighs and says quietly, "Yes. You'd be surprised the things people will do for unrequited love. He could've killed Phoebe, you know. He talked about it. I wouldn't expect such kindness from him next time."

His eyes turn to Phoebe and she nods quickly. He continues,

"There are things at play here that you won't understand. I can't tell you, it would put all of us at risk."

He raises his wand to his temple, Phoebe and James watching silently as he extracts a silvery thread. A memory. He places it in a small vial and hands it to Phoebe. He does it again, another vial placed in her open palm. As he does he swallows past the lump in his throat, saying hoarsely, "Please...don't look at these, Phoebe. Some of them...."

He trails off, looking away from the Veela. Guilt still clawed at him. The one memory makes him feel ill. James knows exactly what it is, realization dawning on him. The guilt is too obvious. One of those tiny threads shows the night that Phoebe was tortured. James suddenly feels sick too. He takes the vials from the curious veela and places them in his pocket, his voice quiet as he replies, "What are we supposed to do with them?"

"Dumbledore is expecting them," Regulus answers simply, his eyes leaving James and sliding to Phoebe.

"You said you didn't trust him," Phoebe whispers, heart wrenching in her chest. He was going to leave again. She didn't know when she would see him again. If she would see him again. Regulus chuckles, "I don't trust most people. Sometimes you have to take risks though. You took a risk on me, didn't you?"

Phoebe smiles weakly before pulling him into another hug, murmuring, "Why can't you just come with us? Sirius misses you. Kreacher misses you."

Regulus wraps his arms around her tightly, closing his eyes. Maybe this would be the last time. The last time he hugged Phoebe. The last time he saw her smile or her kind eyes. He just mumbles so only she can hear,

"Thank you."

Phoebe feels her eyes prickle with tears. She clutches the back of his black robes and whispers tearfully, "Stay alive."

Regulus pulls back, smiling at her gently before turning to James. They share a serious look for a moment.

Then he's gone.