Regulus hates to cook. But, with James busy teaching classes all day and having to put up with dirty teenagers, he thought it might be nice to make food for a change.
That was until Regulus had to call the fire department on himself because the oven mitt that sat next to the stove caught fire.
After the kind, tall firefighter checked on Regulus, he called James, who had sounded extremely shaken up at the thought of a fire.
A pit of guilt dug in Regulus' stomach, his heart clenching at the worrying tone in James' voice.
"I'm sorry, James; I thought I was doing something good! The house is okay; there's not too much -" And then James cuts him off.
"I don't care about the house, not even if it's in ruins! Reg, I asked if you were okay!" Regulus breathes out through his nose.
Girls behind them: *speaking French*
Sirius (muttering under his breath): Some people clearly think they're the only ones who know French.
Girls: *continuing speaking French*
Sirius: *embarrassedly smiling*
Remus: What? What are they saying?
Sirius: They're talking about my arse.
Remus: *grabs Sirius' arse, turns around, and winks*
Girls: *gasps, clasp their mouths, and run off behind the nearest shelf*
Remus and Sirius: *laughs uncontrollably*
Sirius: What? You don't think I deserve a little appreciation?
Remus: No one talks about your arse in a language I don't understand.
james has a scar beneath his ribs because regulus carved his initials into his skin, and then he frequently reopened the wound for months until he was sure it would be permanent