The Day the Music Died | Jegulus, Wolfstar

Sirius is a Right Prat

Here we stand,
Worlds apart, hearts broken in two, two, two.
Sleepless nights,
Losing ground, I'm reaching for you, you, you.
No!
No!

James' throat went dry, it couldn't be, Voldemort couldn't be there, the house was filled with protection spells and anti-apparition charms, it was simply impossible. He maintained his eyes locked with Regulus', who was as puzzled as him.

"You must've been raving, Reg, I checked, no one was there," he affirmed with false confidence, nodding to himself.

"I promise James," he blubbered locking their eyes, "he was standing next to me as I lost consciousness, he spoke to me."

James stayed silent, his body was filled with uncertainty, an unpleasant feeling spreading inside him, like he was in danger, the hair on the back of his neck bristled.

"You don't believe me, don't you?" Whispered Regulus, he sounded hurt.

"I do, Regulus... but this is... I can't deal with this, alright?" Stressed James, he was scared, actually scared for the first time since he had memory, he hated that feeling, he couldn't protect Regulus, and he despised himself for it.

He got up and started pacing the room, pressing the bridge of his nose as Regulus followed him with his eyes, he didn't answer, so that obliged James to speak again.

"Listen, I want to help you, I really do, but I'm running out of ideas, and of energy," he ranted, barely realizing what he said.

He nodded.

"You're right, I'm sorry."

"No, no don't say that, none of this is your fault," James snorted, getting closer to Regulus, who was already on his feet.

"You lost your friends because of my responsibility, I don't deserve what you're doing for me."

James expired in frustration, his stubbornness and all the stupid things he was saying made his insides boil.

"Piss off, Black!" He yapped, Regulus raised his jaw, "like it or not I'm going to stay with you till you're safe, even if it means to lose Sirius... he's acting like a right prat, sooner or later he'll realize it, but for now only you matter to me, got it?"

He refrained a small grin.

"Got it."

***

They spent the evening doing pointless magic with their wands above their heads, laying on the rug next to the fireplace, getting up solely for bathroom breaks. They didn't speak about the event, since they would probably have to deal with Fleamont later, and it wasn't necessary to drain Regulus' energy twice. The amount of friction happening between James and Regulus was a product of the stress that the war, the young Black's condition and everything else, not to mention the lack of sleep, fortunately, they always came to an agreement after their 'fights'.

While they levitated a piece of paper, which was burning with a blue flame, weak but powerful, the door opened, Fleamont and Euphemia came through the door looking even worse than the day before: with massive, dark eye-bags, messy hair and stained clothing, they barely greeted them.

Euphemia went to the kitchen to start making dinner, Regulus took a few deep breaths as James' dad took a few unsure steps closer to them, and finally sat in the couch between the two boys with a serene expression.

"Regulus, I'm going to ask you to please tell me every detail of your encounter, sooner this evening," he said, his ministry accent intensifying, a quill with a piece of parchment was floating on his side, which was sort of hard to ignore, but Reg just nodded, as diplomatically as Fleamont.

"I was in the bathroom, when it happened. I got nausea out of the blue, and all it took for me to vomit was leaning against the toilet, I couldn't stop, I felt dizzy... when it finally stopped, my arm..." Fleamont's eyes widened, staring straight at his forearm, "the Dark Mark started aching, like a thousand snakes were biting it, even though my body felt weary, and my gaze was barely focusing, I could see the dark ink moving on my skin, it made me gag."

He took a few deep breaths, the fire of the chimney was the only thing audible along Regulus' heavy breathing and the subtle scratching of the quill.

"I remember James asking something, but the pain was so excruciating, that the words wouldn't leave my mouth, I squeezed my arm to see if that stopped, but nothing did, till suddenly, my ears clogged and then... then I started hearing him, he spoke to me."

Fleamont was closer to Regulus after each phrase, making sure he would listen to every word coming out of the boy's mouth, James could barely listen, it hurt to.

"You can't escape me... your destiny is written... on your arm." the young Black mumbled as Fleamont's eyes shot to Regulus' arm, covered with a jumper, he didn't seem to realize.

"That's what he kept saying, over and over again till the words were mixed into each other, then I just heard grotesque whispers, it drove me mad, I squeezed my head, but the voices wouldn't stop."

Now he sounded scared, fighting his tears.

"I yelled him to stop, and he did, so did I, my numb body dropped to the floor as soon as the voices stopped, the last thing I saw... was him. He was staring at me with a smile as I lost consciousness."

He stayed silent, everyone did. Fleamont's eyes weren't focused any more, the gears of his mind looked like they were spinning relentless, he got up and started pacing the room, and finally took the piece of parchment—filled up both sides—, and vanished upstairs to his room, leaving the family alone with a very perturbed looking Regulus.

They had dinner in silence, and before they could realize, they were upstairs, each in their dormitory, ready to sleep.

"I'm going to shower, if you don't mind," mumbled Regulus, James nodded as he tidied up his room.

About twenty minutes later, the young Potter searched his closet for a few old clothing that could fit Regulus and headed to the bathroom, he saw the door slightly open at the end of the hall, where a bright, cool light was coming through the gap of the door, he intended to just knock and leave the clothing in front of the door, but something made him get closer.

He peeked slowly through the crack of the door and bit his lip, Regulus was standing in front of the mirror, a towel was weakly tied to his waist, exposing his whole torso, covered in light bruises which made James flinch in pain, his body was limp but well-defined, his skin pale, and his stomach was framed by his V-line, something inside him stirred, he just wanted to grab his narrow waist and bring him closer to his own.

Regulus suddenly moved, dissipating James' profane thoughts before they escalated, he stared at the Dark Mark, it was ghastly against his fair skin, it looked out of place, the young Black leaned against the sink, his head dropped, he was having trouble breathing, and James didn't have a problem discovering why, a few tears slid through his cheeks, he swallowed and quickly wiped them.

James got away from the gap, the feeling of being a stalker all of a sudden making him guilty, he knocked on the door.

"I'll leave your clothes outside, alright?" He asked as he knelt and left the pile in front of the door.

"Thanks," he answered feebly.

The young Potter returned to his dormitory and stuffed himself under the thick sheets, about ten minutes later, Regulus opened the door, his figure looked way less menacing with clothing on, he got in the bed as well, close to James, he felt his cold feet brushing his legs.

"Are you awake?" he whispered, but James didn't answer, he was too tired for speaking.

Regulus sighed and got even closer, his hair was touching James' neck, he would find it lovable if he hadn't thought of the boy in such a way just a few minutes before, and so he stayed still, avoiding any movement, for safety reasons.

They fell asleep next to each other, their faces shining with the light of the stars above them, and the feeling of a hopeless destiny creeping to their thoughts.

***