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kjhbsies · 2 months ago

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Undeniably and Secretly Yours

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James Potter x Slytherin!reader

synopsis: James Potter is in a secret relationship with Y/N, but things spiral when someone mistakes Regulus Black for Y/N’s boyfriend and spreads the rumor around Hogwarts. How far will he go before he can’t take it anymore?

wordcount: 1,663

note: 16+ fluff. will probably do one last part. comment if you want to be tagged <3

part I. part III.

Regulus Black was cornered, and he absolutely hated it.

Literally— his back was pressed against the cold stone wall near the dungeons, arms crossed as he glared at the four boys in front of him: Sirius, Remus, Peter, and... James, who was staring at him with a murderous stare that made Regulus wonder if he ever did something to him.

"How exactly did you find me here?" Regulus deadpanned.

Sirius smirked, tapping his temple with his forefinger. "Great instincts, brother. I'm basically a prophet."

Peter awkwardly cleared his throat, trying to suppress a laugh. Remus, awkwardly standing beside him, scratched his head with the same hand that was holding the Marauder's Map.

"What's that?" Regulus pointed at it.

"Nothing." Remus smiled at him.

"Looks suspicious."

"It's just... homework." Remus hummed.

Sirius clapped his hands together. "Anyway—! Regulus, my dear, weird little brother... tell me something. Are you dating Y/n?"

Regulus blinked at him. "What?"

"You heard me. Are you dating Y/n Y/l/n?" He stepped closer.

"Dating? Where did you even—?"

James's jaw clenched, and his grip on his wand tightened.

"You're lying." Sirius pointed an accusatory finger at Regulus's nose. "You're lying through your teeth. You're probably snogging her behind the dungeons, don't you?"

Regulus gave him a disgusted look. "Why would I snog someone in the dungeons? That's unsanitary."

Peter snickered under his breath. James still hadn't moved or spoken— he just kept...staring. His left eye was twitching a little.

"Come on," Sirius whined. "Are you two or aren't you? Spill, Reg."

"If you're insinuating that we're together, then you're delusional."

Sirius gasped dramatically.

"We're just close. Is it so unbelievable that I have friends? Do you need me to draw a diagram?" Regulus shot back, clearly irritated.

Sirius, undeterred, leaned in again. "So, is she single?"

James's head snapped to look at him with a deep frown.

"I suppose?" Regulus sighed deeply.

"And you're going to ask her out to Hogsmeade this weekend? Valentine's Day is coming up, you know."

Regulus shrugged. "Probably."

PROBABLY?!

Regulus's voice echoed through James's mind like a death toll.

That stupid, little casual shrug haunted him, and he was absolutely losing his mind. He was pacing back and forth in his dorm room, whilst his friends were staring at him. His hair was messy— messier than usual, and he looked like one bad thought away from throwing himself out of the Gryffindor tower.

"Prongs, you gotta tell us what's wrong or else we can't help you solve your problem," Sirius said from where he was sprawled on James's bed, munching on a chocolate frog.

Remus, perched in an armchair, sipped his cup of tea. He hummed thoughtfully while eyeing his friend. He had his suspicions— had them for a while now— but after Sirius's interrogation with Regulus, he connected the dots.

James threw his hands in the air. "I can't!"

"Why not?" Peter piped from the floor.

"Because I just— I just can't!"

"Since when do we keep secrets from each other, huh?" Sirius sat on the bed dramatically. "We're brothers! We solemnly swore and everything!"

"Maybe Prongs isn't ready yet." Remus shot James a knowing look.

"...You cheated on your NEWTs again?" Peter's eyes squinted at James.

"What? No!" James snapped.

There was a beat of silence.

"...You gay?" Peter tried again, dead serious.

"NO!" James cried, absolutely losing his mind because his friends were definitely not helping right now. He let out a wounded groan and flopped onto the couch dramatically. "I'm doomed." He muttered through the cushions.

Meanwhile, in his head, a horrible scene was playing on the loop: Regulus, all intimidating and handsome, cornering you somewhere dark and romantic (and stupid)— asking you to be his date on Hogsmeade on Valentine's Day. You, smiling shyly, will accept it. Regulus will buy you chocolates, give you a plush teddy bear, and kiss your hand like some male lead in a romantic muggle movie.

James almost sobbed at the thought.

"Prongs, you're spiraling." Sirius exchanged glances with Peter.

"We have to do something," Peter whispered.

"What? Like an exorcism?" Sirius whispered back.

"Oh, Merlin, it's like the Evans fiasco over again." Peter shook his head, looking at him with pity.

"It's not." Remus walked over to where they were.

"How do you know, dear Moony?" Sirius lightly nudged him in the shoulder.

Remus leaned on the bedpost, looking more smug than usual. "Because, dear friends, I am basically... a prophet."

"Hey, only I get to claim divine intervention around here!" Sirius frowned.

James groaned again from the couch, not lifting his head. "Kill me now."

The library was quiet— eerily quiet— except for the soft flipping of books and quiet murmurs. You and Regulus were tucked away in the far corner of the library, the one spot where the sun hits perfectly, and where Madam Pince rarely bothered anyone.

Regulus sat across from you, flipping a book open, but clearly not reading. "Sirius cornered me last night."

You blinked at him. "...What"

"Near the dungeons. Him, Lupin, Pettigrew, and Potter."

Your heart stopped at the mention of James's last name, but you didn't let it show. Instead, you leaned back in your chair. "What did he want now?"

"He interrogated me."

"About?"

"You," He answered flatly. "Apparently, everyone thinks we were dating."

You froze.

Well, that was... unexpected— or expected— given the way people had been whispering lately. But still, James must've heard that, right? You immediately imagined his reaction—probably furrowing his brows so hard it created a crease in the middle of his forehead, pacing around his dorm room, and tearing at his impossibly messy hair.

Sure, teasing him had been fun— I mean, he had the cutest pout. And it wasn't every day James Potter got jealous. Usually, you were the one watching him get tackled by his bunch of admirers, especially after Quidditch matches, while you try not to hex them to oblivion.

But even if it was mildly entertaining, the thought of James— your James— feeling insecure made your heart pinch. James was the most confident, brilliant, and the most adorable human being you'd ever met.

You frowned, lost in thought, until Regulus added something.

"...But then Sirius asked if you were single and if I'd be asking you out on a date."

THUD.

Both of your heads whipped around just in time to see a very disheveled, very pouty James Potter emerging from behind the bookshelf.

"Oh, hello," He said in the fakest, innocent voice he could muster. "Didn't see you two there."

You offered him a small smile when Regulus wasn't looking at you. "Looking for a specific book, Potter?"

"Mhm." James nodded, stepping into your little study area. He stood near you, still indulging himself with the books he couldn't care less about. "Just browsing. Loads of Slytherin energy here, though."

Regulus's eyes narrowed. "Are you following me?"

James blinked. "What? No. I came here for—" He grabbed the nearest book he could find. "—The Joy of Magical Fungus."

A pause.

"Fascinating stuff, really," James added.

Regulus frowned. "...Right."

James waved a dismissive hand. "Don't mind me here... just continue with... whatever you two were doing..."

Regulus turned to you. "Anyway, as I was saying—"

James loudly cleared his throat.

Both of you turned to look at him.

"Itchy throat." James chuckled and cleared his throat once again— this time, more obnoxiously.

"I was saying," Regulus gave a pointed glare at James. "Before I get interrupted—"

"Ahem."

"—Interrupted again, I was going to say I hadn't really considered asking you out, but maybe—"

James took a step closer beside you. This time, he was looming over the two of you. You scratched the back of your neck, trying to suppress the secondhand embarrassment creeping up your spine.

"Do you mind?" Regulus asked, clearly annoyed.

"Not at all," James replied.

"Do you live in the library now, Potter?"

"No. But I do believe in broadening my... intelligence."

Regulus scowled. "You're literally holding that book upside down."

"Am I?" James turned to look at his book.

Regulus opened his mouth to say something, but sighed instead, glancing at his wrist watch. "Whatever. I have class."

You offered him a tight-lipped smile. "Bye, Reg."

As Regulus turned to leave with a confused shake in the head, James casually slipped into the seat next to you.

You raised an amused brow. "The Joy of Magical Fungus?"

"Good stuff," James mumbled. "He was about to ask you out, wasn't he?"

You giggled and went to cup his face. "Hey."

"Hmm?"

"You're so obvious."

James's bottom lip jutted even more. "They all think you're single."

You kissed his pout.

"And worse, they think you're dating Regulus freaking Black."

You kissed the other side of his pout.

"He's not even funny."

Another kiss.

"Or beefy."

One more kiss on the nose. "You done?"

James sighed deeply and finally melted into your arms like a dramatic little spoon. “...Maybe.”

You ran your fingers through his hair gently, the one thing guaranteed to make him stop spiraling.

“Listen to me,” you whispered. “I’m your girlfriend. I like you. I love you when you're pouting, jealous, and dramatic. But also when you're smug and sweet and a bit of a show-off. No one, especially not Regulus, is going to change that.”

James peeked up at you, cheeks pink. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“And maybe,” He added, voice muffled against your sweater, “We could tell people soon. So no one else tries to steal you.”

You smiled. “I thought you wanted it secret for now.”

“I changed my mind,” he huffed. “I’m claiming my territory.”

You burst out laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m in love,” James corrected. “It’s worse.”

James's hand tightened around your waist, almost pulling you into his lap. He doesn't even care if people find out about you two right now. He doesn't even care one bit if Regulus walked in on you two suddenly.

Because Regulus couldn't make you feel everything he did.

Not today. Not ever.

©kjhbsies

taglist: @dearmy-diary @kmhbygss @ladycaramelswirl @mao-nuwang

#james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x you #james potter fanfiction #james potter fluff #marauders #james potter

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not-rab · 2 years ago

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☀︎ part 4 of my Singer/Songwriter Twitter AU ☀︎

☀︎ part 3 ☀︎ part 5 ☀︎

@malakiwis <3

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my-castles-crumbling · 19 days ago

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invisible - june 7 - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 202

“Hey Prongs, can I borrow the Invisibility Cloak?” Peter asked in a whining voice. “I need to sneak some ingredients for a potion I’m making. I’ll have it back to you by tonight, promise.”

Sirius chuckled but kept his opinion to himself. James had always been protective over his Cloak. Though he knew the Gryffindor would let Peter borrow it for a few hours, he also knew James would worry the entire time it was gone, even if he didn’t say anything.

“Sure, Wormy,” James agreed, smiling. “I just need to get it back from Reg.”

Remus, Sirius, and Peter all exchanged glances before Remus was brave enough to speak up. “Regulus has your cloak? When’s he giving it back?” he asked curiously.

“Dunno. He’s had it for a few days,” James shrugged, not even looking up from his work.

Sirius gaped. “You’re just letting him keep it? For days?”

“Yeah, why?” the taller boy asked, seemingly confused.

“Because that’s like…your baby!” Peter supplied, eyes wide.

“Well, Wormy. I want to have babies with him, so–” James began to explain, beaming, but Sirius cut him off.

“Eurgh! Enough! We get your point, kindly shut the fuck up,” he moaned, plugging his ears.

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lqveharrington · 4 months ago

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Perfect Replacement | R.L.

summary: Remus begins to worry about your well-being after seeing you act much differently than before.

pairing: remus lupin x Black Family!reader

includes: use of Y/N, mentions of abuse (both mental and physical), unfair treatment, bullying, cursing, allusions to receiving the dark mark, burning out, angst, smallest bit of fluff (lmk if i missed any!)

a/n: lowkey, this one was sad and requested by someone a while ago… i’m swamped with my own school work so this was a little vent fic for me :)

From the moment you were born, Orion and Walburga knew what you were meant to be—what you would always be known as. You were the Black Family’s spare. If Sirius or Regulus was injured in a way magic wasn’t enough to heal them, you were the person they tore open to find missing parts. You were nothing but a tool.

Worst of all, they refused to recognize you as even part of their family. What they wanted was a male heir and—being the first born before Sirius by mere minutes—you ruined their lives. Sure, the legacy would’ve still been able to continue with Sirius, but Walburga and Orion were furious when they saw a girl be born into the Black Family.

It was always your fate to be their spare.

When you were old enough to attended Hogwarts, they were quick to dismiss your presence. You were no longer theirs to care for as long as you stayed there. Hell, they even called Sirius—who was sorted in Gryffindor—back for holiday while you—who was sorted into Slytherin—stayed at Hogwarts with the school's staff.

However, they learned that Sirius was no longer fit to be the heir of the Black family. So they did what they did best—throw you into the deep end with no safety. Instead of letting Sirius get away with his stupidity, you were to take over his responsibilities until Regulus was suited to become the heir.

You were constantly watched to ensure perfection. It didn't matter if you were the top of your class or not—you had to maintain the role of the perfect heir. The useless heir. Coming home every summer just to be scolded at was never ideal, but you tried. You pushed through all the extracurriculars until you couldn't feel the weight of pressure on you anymore. You just kept going.

You kept pushing and pushing until the worst thing happened at home.

Sirius left. He left you and Regulus with your wretched parents. He left you with more scars than you could count that you swore he didn't care much for you either. It truly was you against the entire Black family—with little help from Regulus whenever he wasn't being trained to be the Black family heir.

“Letter from mother.” Regulus tossed the cream envelope in your direction, unaware of how closed off and fragile you became since Sirius left.

You peeled the envelope open and did a quick scan of the letter, humming at the usual demands from you. Nothing new. “I need to go study, Reg. I’ll see you later."

“You'll come find me for lunch, right?” He grabbed your wrist like he would when he was younger, alarmed that his whole hand could wrap around the joint with ease.

“I need to study for my NEWTs.” You give him the best smile you could muster, making your steps quick as you left the Great Hall. You loved your younger brother, but your parents would have your head if they found out you were talking to him rather than studying for your final exams.

You swiftly looped around the castle corridors—potions, charms, and transfiguration textbooks in arm as you made your way toward the astronomy tower. No matter how many times you’ve studied in Hogwarts’ library, you found it easier to work in the tower. The library was filled with all kinds of students—even the ones who weren't there to study.

Just as you made a sharp turn to the tower stairs, you slammed into someone more than half your size—all your books and parchment scattering to the floor. Immediately, you apologized and rushed to grab the papers and books, face warm with embarrassment when the person handed you your quill your cousin Narcissa bought you.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you.” You clutch the books tighter to your chest and move around the figure, unaware that it was one of Sirius’ friends.

The one who watched you were a careful eye since you hopped onto the stool with a worried look in first year.

The Marauders were scattered about their dorm. Peter was munching on some kind of bread, Sirius was hanging upside down in his bed, and James was on his usual session about how Lily was the most perfect girl when Remus walked in with an unreadable expression.

James slowly came to a stop before tilting his head at the lanky boy, tossing a pillow in his direction. 'What happened at the library, Moony? Madam Pince refused to let you check out anymore books?"

Remus ignored James and caught the pillow with a swipe of his hand—his attention only on the curly-haired boy in front of him. "Padfoot, do you know what's going on with your sister? She looks like she might be ill.”

Sirius froze at the mention of you, ultimately falling from his spot on the bed. He rarely saw you back at home that he didn't know anything about you anymore. At least, not as much as he knew about Regulus.

“I… I don’t know.” He admitted and ran his fingers through his hair in guilt.

“You don’t know?” Remus repeated in disbelief. He didn't think that when Sirius left, he would forget all about his twin sister. She looked exactly like him—only now, she looked like she could break with one wrong touch. "She could be seriously sick—"

"Look, I'll get Regulus to ask her what's wrong." Sirius crossed his legs and frowned when Remus still looked unhappy. "What?"

"We both know you won't willingly talk to your brother." He said and stood from his spot, mind running through different scenarios as to why you looked so malnourished—why you were so malnourished.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at his best mate, "Why do you care so much about my sister?"

"Why don't you care more?" Remus scoffed and left the dorm, leaving the rest of the Marauders confused with his sudden interest in the Black's eldest child.

Though Remus cared little for the Black family, he knew you never wronged anyone. In fact, he believed you were Sirius' foil. When Sirius was off pranking someone with James, you were always studying for your next class. When you weren't studying, he found you speaking quietly with Regulus in the Great Hall. You were so quiet and reserved that Remus refused to believe you were Sirius' twin for so long.

He rarely spoke to you, but he knew something was definitely wrong. And he would get to the bottom of the issue.

“Miss Black, you need to take care of yourself. Your brother is concerned for you—“

“He should not be concerned for my wellbeing. Instead, he should be concerned about his grades in Care for Magical Creatures.” You huff and push away Madam Pomfrey’s wand from your arm, tugging your robes over your body in a rushed manner. “I am perfectly fine and need to get back to my studies before the night takes away all the light.”

You leave the hospital wing and glance at your watch, silently cursing yourself for wasting precious time on a silly check up Regulus insisted you get. Although—you had to admit— you were too exhausted to make the trek up the astronomy tower to study. So instead, you made your way toward the library instead, the candles in the corridors lighting your path to the quiet space ahead.

Finding an open table, you get to work as quickly as you can. You flip open you defense against the dark arts textbook and begin your studies, hands shaking and eyes blurring with how exhausted you were. Willing yourself to push on, you started to mutter the words you read, unaware of the brown-haired boy looming beside you.

“You’re not casting a spell, are you?” A voice spoke from your right, causing you to jerk in surprise.

Lifting your head up from the book, you meet warm, brown eyes, the feeling spreading across your chest before you pulled your attention toward the book once more. You couldn’t get distracted, not when you were running out of time before the holidays.

“No.” You answer truthfully before continuing to mutter about the three unforgiving curses, each one worse than the last. You’ve encountered two out of three of them and you prayed you never had to witness the last.

Right as you went to turn the page, the person moved to sit in front of you—your eye twitching in irritation. This was your spot for the rest of the evening and you would like to not be distracted by… whoever this person was.

Huffing, you flip the page in frustration and speak once more. This time with annoyance. “I’m sorry, but I’m trying to study for—“

“I see that.” The mysterious figure pulled out his own book, raising his brows when you nearly looked up from your book to see what he was reading. So close. “I’m here to merely observe. You are the top of our graduating class.”

“Incorrect.” You keep a shaky finger on the last word you left off on, finally taking a proper look at the boy who decided to distract you. “I’m tied with…”

“You don’t want a tie?” Remus rested his head in his palm, hiding a small grin at your shocked expression.

You swallow thickly before going back to your book, refusing to acknowledge his presence for the rest of the time. It wasn’t like you were intimidated or embarrassed by the boy. You were just confused and stunned by him. Why was he suddenly interested in you when he stuck so close to your twin? Perhaps your mother or father sent him as a spy—but he was a half-blood, so you doubted that was the reason.

Remus sighed and began to read Jane Eyre, occasionally glancing in your direction. He noted that you were still here mentally—well, as far as a mere five minute interaction goes—but your physique seemed way off. Though you weren’t as tall as your brothers, you were a hell lot paler and way too ill-fed to even look remotely related to them.

By the time Madam Pince kicked the both of you out, Remus memorized the way you looked and stored it for later data. He thought that you would snap under the weight of all the textbooks and parchment you were carrying. He also swore you memorized each of the textbooks—catching you repeatedly murmur the different facts you learned over your hours of studying.

But as Remus went to turn toward the Great Hall, you continued to go straight down the corridor—worrying him. “Black, you’re not coming to have dinner?”

You stop walking and hesitate before settling on your normal excuse. “I’m not hungry.”

“You studied for over two hours. Surely a snack or even just water—“

“Lupin, I’m fine. I don’t need—“

Before you could even finish your sentence, a familiar voice rang out clearly. A voice you haven’t heard since he left you all alone.

“Moony! There you are! We’ve been looking for you.”Sirius clapped Remus on the back, unaware of your presence. He never truly acknowledged your being—you assumed he learned it from your mother and father. “Where were you?”

Remus’ eyes darted in your direction after the initial surprise from Sirius faded, but you were already fleeting down the hall—Mary Jane’s echoing with each step.

“Just…” He paused and shook his head, directing his attention back to the younger Black sibling and following him into the Great Hall. “Studying.”

Unfortunately for you, it became Remus' habit to constantly be around you when studying. No matter where you went to study—whether it was the damn astronomy tower or back of the library—he found you. It became impossible to hide from him and you knew you were losing valuable time studying if you spoke to him.

So you just stopped.

"I brought chocolate today." Remus spoke, finding you by the edge of the Black Lake. "A piece offering."

Your eyes briefly flickered up to meet his and glanced at the chocolate, but you immediately fell back into reading, making him frown. You were frustrating him just a tad bit. It was the day before holiday break and you decided to spend your time on the freezing grounds studying than inside with a cup of hot tea doing something else—he wasn't even close to figuring anything about you.

You were just a ghost of a person.

“Lupin, I can’t focus.” You whisper as you felt his gaze on you, frustratedly reading the same line over and over again.

Remus muttered a quick apology and went back to War and Peace. But he couldn't focus. All he could focus on was the sound of you shaking underneath all the layers of clothes you had on. He pursed his lips and sighed, removing his own overcoat and draping it over you.

Freezing at the sudden warmth enveloping your figure, you meet his brown eyes and give him a smile that could be noted as a grimace. "Thanks..."

He hummed and took a bite out of his chocolate, letting you read for a couple more minutes before speaking once more. "Do you plan on studying over the holidays as well?"

Your tongue poked the inside of your cheek. Were you going to spend your entire holiday studying? "Depends on mother and father. They might coupe me up in my room and make me study all holiday. Or they may decide to finally let me join in opening gifts with Regulus—not like I'll get anything."

It took you a second to realize what you said to the boy sitting beside you. Honestly, you didn't know what he was doing to you.

Remus' eyes narrowed at your confession the second you covered your mouth with a shaking hand. You were never supposed to talk ill about your parents or you family—especially not to some… to a Gryffindor and half-blood!

“I-I have to go.” You stutter and quickly gather your things, rushing back into the castle without another glace toward Remus.

When you came back from the holidays, you looked even worse than before. Remus took one look at you and knew something went down back at the Black house. Although you did look more fed then most days, the circles underneath your eyes were more prominent and instead of rolling up your sweaters like usual, you wore them normally.

What happened?

But Remus wasn't the only one to notice the changes. For once, Regulus noted the changes in your demeanor. Rather than using your time to study for charms or transfiguration, you began to read books on the dark arts. The textbooks that once belonged to Bellatrix were passed down to you, causing Regulus to do his own digging into your sudden change of studies.

“What're you reading Trimbles' book for?” Regulus asked quietly as you pushed food around your plate, gaze locked on the ink in the book. "Did Bella get through to you about the dark arts?"

You subconsciously touch your left arm and bite your tongue. You could say it was your cousin's fault for she was the one to suggest you become one of them anyway. Yet you would never speak ill about her—you supposed it was her way of showing she cared for you.

"No, it's just interesting."' You clear your throat and stand from your spot. "Finish breakfast, I'll see you later."

"You didn't touch anything on your plate." Regulus frowned and stood up as well, following close behind and grabbing your left arm. "What are you hiding from me?"

You winced and quickly pulled away, "Nothing, Reg, leave me be."

"I can't do that! You're my sister and I care about you—"

Quickly finding your way out of a conversation you didn't want to have, you weaved your way in between the Gryffindor boys that deemed themselves as the Marauders, subconsciously grabbing Remus' hand and dragging him with you.

“Hey—!” Sirius gaped at his best friend being stolen from him, earning a glare from his younger brother.

“Fuck off, Sirius. Something’s wrong.” Regulus quickly spat out and chased after you and the lanky boy.

Sirius' eyebrows knitted together before letting out a loud sigh, following his brother to wherever you were taking Remus. After all the time he spent away, you and Regulus were still important to him—even if he rarely showed it.

"What's happening?" Remus stumbled into an empty classroom and glanced at your heavy breathing figure, face twisting in confusion as you leaned back on the wooden door in exhaustion. "Why were you running?"

"I didn't mean to pull you with me." You rub your face and wander over to a desk, sitting in the chair as your thoughts swallowed your mind. "I just needed an escape from Regulus. He can be nosy."

Still confused, Remus simply nodded and sat at the desk opposite of you, wincing when he heard Sirius' shouting from outside the class. You let out a quiet laugh at your brothers' bickering before those laughs quickly turned into quiet sobs, shoulders shaking from the weight of emotions packed into each one.

"Oh." Remus murmured and patted his pockets down, taking a bar of chocolate and snapping a piece off. “Eat, it’ll make you feel better.”

You wipe your tears and look down at the chocolate, your stomach growling at the lack of food you’ve eaten today. Sniffling, you take the chocolate and nibble on it, unaware of Remus’ smile.

“Better?” He asked softly, biting into the chocolate himself.

There wasn’t an answer from you, but he knew it helped somewhat—your tears subsided and all that could be heard was your occasional sniffling and hiccups.

Remus had so many questions he wanted to ask you yet he knew it wasn’t his place. Though only one really stuck out to him.

“Why did you bring me here?”

You purse your lips and fiddle with the loose strings on your sweater, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I don’t know.” You say truthfully. But before Remus could say anything else, you continued—eyes shut because to you, the confession was quite embarrassing. “Maybe I just got used to you always being there and I…” You drop your head into your hands and sigh loudly, “I trust you more than my whole family.”

He raised his brows but made no effort to say anything else—knowing you had more to say.

“You care for me in a way my siblings will never understand.” You murmur and peek between your fingers to find him slouched over to hear you clearly. “I can’t… I can’t tell you anything about what happened at home.” He opened his mouth to protest but you stopped him. “But I’ll consider keeping the odd friendship you chose to start.”

Remus narrowed his eyes at you and—for a brief moment—he wanted to refuse. He wanted to know what was happening, why you were more conscious about how you dressed. Yet he couldn’t find himself wanting to object your offer. If he could keep a close eye on you like this, so be it.

“You’ll tell me in due time, alright?” Remus gave you the rest of his chocolate bar, noticing the way you tugged your sleeve down once more.

“If it’s fitting by then.” You give him a weak smile. “Besides, I think I can still be the top of the class without you. After all, I am the perfect replacement.”

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colouredbyd · 2 months ago

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Soleil

Regulus Black x fem!reader

summary: When Regulus overhears a whispered confession never meant for him—soft words tucked between laughter and loyalty, unraveling the quiet truth beneath your friendship. In the hush that follows, the line between almost and everything begins to blur.

warnings: the most fluffiest fluff to ever fluff in any au, friends in love but in denial, childhood friends to lovers, lowkey grumpy x sunshine trope, reg being insecure, love confessions, self doubt, swearing. i love this sm.

word count: 7.3k ( im sorry ☹️)

authors note: reggie is quite literally the loml so here u go guys 🌷

masterlist

“I just don’t get it. You two are close, sure, but how can someone like you stand someone so… frostbitten?”

Regulus Black had never been fond of listening in.

Not because he held some high regard for personal boundaries—though he might feign such principles if questioned—but because idle whispers had always struck him as painfully dull. His ears had never itched for gossip, nor had curiosity ever coaxed him into shadowed corners. If people had something to say, they’d say it. And if they didn’t, he preferred the quiet.

In truth, silence had always been kinder to him than most people ever were.

It was a habit he’d mastered long before Hogwarts—back when the walls of Grimmauld Place echoed with slurred legacies and scornful lectures. In those days, slipping away unnoticed had been a form of survival. At school, it was simply routine.

But tonight… something felt different.

Maybe it was the fact that his name had slipped past someone else’s lips.

Maybe it was the company—James Potter, Marlene McKinnon, and you—tucked just around the corridor outside the Gryffindor common room.

Or maybe it was something subtler, something aching and ancient, when Marlene’s voice laced his name with ice.

He hadn’t meant to linger. He’d only returned to fetch the worn book he’d abandoned on the windowsill that morning. He hadn’t expected anyone to be there—let alone you, laughter softening your voice like candlelight.

He could’ve kept walking. He should have.

But then—

“I think there’s kindness in him,” James said, uncertain. His voice faltered like a lantern in fog.

“I mean… we’ve barely spoken, really.” He rubbed the back of his neck—nervous, boyish. Always more heart than caution.

“Maybe he’s just not great with people?”

You hummed softly, nodding in agreement, though your gaze had grown distant, pulled by the threads of memory. You understood him far better than the others did—better, perhaps, than anyone else dared to try. That’s why Marlene and Dorcas had turned to you, curious about the boy who walked the castle halls like a ghost no one could quite touch.

You had known Regulus Black long before you shared the same classes at Hogwarts. Growing up among pureblood circles had made your paths cross more than once, though back then, he barely acknowledged your presence. It wasn’t until your fifth year that a quiet camaraderie started to bloom—quiet, not because it was secret, but because it had no need for loud declarations. A glance. A shared silence. A wordless understanding. All of it wove together like a private constellation only you two could see.

You smiled faintly at the memory, a soft huff of laughter escaping you. It was absurd, really, to think you’d somehow become the unofficial Regulus Black Expert of Gryffindor Tower. The idea would have made your younger self laugh out loud.

Because back then—when you’d first been introduced to him by a smug Sirius Black with a wicked grin and a mischievous, “Reggie, this one won’t bite unless you ask”—you never would have imagined this strange little bond forming.

“Regulus has always been… closed off,” you murmured at last, agreeing with Marlene’s earlier observation, though your tone drifted somewhere far away. Your words were less a reply and more a wandering thought, drifting like parchment on the wind.

It hadn’t been easy, not at first. Regulus had no interest in friendship—especially not the kind that came packaged with Sirius’s teasing introductions. He had been all cold stares and clipped replies, a boy carved from silence and family pressure. And you? You had simply been the unfortunate soul swept into the current of Black family drama, doomed to be one more casualty in Go-to-hell, Sirius’s grand matchmaking schemes.

Time after time, you found yourself at 12 Grimmauld Place under the excuse of “study sessions” or “family dinners” orchestrated by Sirius’s sheer willpower. And time after time, Regulus kept his distance, each glance sharpened like a dagger, each word a carefully measured offering. He didn’t need friends. He didn’t want them. And you? You were just a name on a list he hadn’t asked for.

And truthfully, you never quite knew when it shifted—or why. When, between wary glances and measured silences, something real began to stir between you. You chewed gently at your bottom lip as the thought unfurled, trying to follow the winding trail back to the precise moment when your distant acquaintance melted into something gentler, more sincere. Something you could, without hesitation, call a friendship now.

“Do you think he ever lets anyone in?” Marlene asked, a touch of disbelief in her voice—not meant to wound, only to confess her own discomfort. She never knew how to fill the silences Regulus left behind, not the way Dorcas or you somehow managed to. “It just doesn’t add up to me.”

Unseen just around the corner, Regulus leaned his weight against the stone wall, the cold of it pressing into his back as he stood completely still. This was the part where he should have left. Disengaged. Forgotten he’d heard anything at all. He should have reminded himself that he didn’t care what people thought—because he didn’t. Or at least, he hadn’t.

But something invisible tethered him to that moment. Curiosity, perhaps. Or the soft echo of his own name on your lips.

“I get that you’re close,” Marlene went on, “but how does someone like you end up friends with someone so…”

He didn’t want to hear the rest of the sentence. And yet, he couldn’t stop listening.

Her voice faltered for a second, and Regulus felt it like a fist around his ribs. He could guess what came next.

“So… cold?”

The word landed like frost beneath his skin.

Cold?

His mind latched onto it, dissecting it like a puzzle he didn’t ask to solve. Is that truly how they saw him? Was that what he looked like through other people’s eyes? He supposed he wasn’t the easiest person to read. He wasn’t known for kindness or warmth—but cold? The word clung to the back of his throat, sharp and stinging.

He should’ve walked away. Brushed it off like he had with everything else. He’d built his world out of walls for a reason. He didn’t let himself care. He never had.

So why, then, did his chest feel like it had been split open?

He was turning to leave, to forget the book he came for and the crack this moment left behind—

Until he heard your voice.

“Cold?” you echoed, and Regulus froze mid-step. There was something in your voice—an edge he couldn’t quite name. Anger? Disbelief? Something that made his heart stutter painfully in his chest.

He found himself leaning into the shadows again, listening, caught in your words like a boy drowning in a storm.

“Regulus Black is anything but cold,” you said, your voice like silk woven through fire. A laugh escaped you next, quiet and bitter. “He’s the warmest person I’ve ever known.”

His breath caught. He almost laughed—almost—but stopped himself. He was supposed to be hidden, after all.

Still, that one sentence echoed louder than the rest.

“Truly?” Marlene blinked at you, surprise tugging at her brows like she hadn’t expected the warmth in your voice.

You nodded with the kind of certainty that didn’t waver.

“Absolutely,” you said, your voice soft but steady, like morning light through a window. “There’s no one quite like him. He’s… kind. Deeply so. He just doesn’t wear it on his sleeve like most do. You have to look closer to see it.”

Around the corner, hidden behind the curve of ancient stone, Regulus stood still as the marble beneath his feet. Your voice was like a tether, pulling him back every time he considered walking away.

“Regulus doesn’t move like everyone else,” you continued gently, a smile curling at the corners of your lips. “He’s quiet, sure. Always has been. But cold?” You let out the softest laugh, the kind that sounded like wind through lavender fields. “No… not cold. Never that. He’s warm in ways most people don’t know how to be.”

Warm? Regulus nearly scoffed, but the heat that rushed to his face betrayed him. If only you knew the darkness he buried his heart beneath. If only you saw the shadows he called home. And still—still—your voice made him believe, just for a second, that maybe you did see. And maybe… you didn’t mind.

“He wouldn’t believe me if I told him,” you said with a small laugh, like you could hear his thoughts. “But it’s true. He cares in ways that matter—in quiet gestures and steady presence, in showing up without ever announcing that he’s there.”

“Ohhh…” Dorcas and Marlene echoed, their tones laced with newfound understanding.

You giggled then, all bright and unbothered, and it struck Regulus like starlight—sudden and impossible to ignore.

“He grows on you,” you promised, voice turning soft again. “Little by little. And when he does… you realize just how lucky you are to be close to someone like him.”

Regulus ducked his head, hiding the sudden flush crawling up his neck, thankful there were no mirrors nearby to betray him. He’d never been lucky a day in his life—but if you thought being near him was some kind of gift, then maybe, just maybe…

“Merlin’s beard, (Y/N), that was kind of adorable,” Dorcas teased. “How long have you known him, then? You two sound like old souls.”

“A while,” you said, tilting your head as you thought it over. “Slughorn once invited us to the same dinner—years ago. Said we were both too serious for our own good. I don’t think either of us said more than three words that night,” you laughed softly. “But… over time, I think we just started understanding each other. Quietly. Comfortably. And now… he’s someone I look up to. A lot.”

A good person? Regulus nearly rolled his eyes. You always saw the best in him—even the parts he tried hardest to bury.

“He’s always helping me,” you added, a smile blooming on your lips. “Especially when I’m struggling with Dueling, or studying late into the night. He says he does it because I ask too many questions—but I know he stays because he wants me to do well.”

Well. He couldn’t exactly argue with that one.

“And he’s a bit of a secret gentleman,” you said, your voice dipping low, like a delicate confession passed between old stone walls. A soft smile ghosted your lips. “Even when we weren’t close, he’d carry my books without asking, hold open the doors with barely a glance, pull out my chair in the Great Hall like it was second nature…”

Your words trailed off as the memories rose like stardust behind your eyes—small, quiet gestures that had once seemed incidental, but now shimmered with meaning.

Just around the corner, half-shrouded by flickering torchlight, Regulus leaned back against the cold stone, eyes half-lidded, breath caught. He’d forgotten about some of those moments—at least on the surface—but hearing them from your lips made them pulse to life again. You noticed. Merlin, you noticed.

He’d never thought of himself as kind. His mother had taught him manners, not softness. His brother had taught him rebellion, not care. But you… You brought something different out of him. With you, gentleness had become instinct.

And now, hearing you speak of it with such warmth, he found himself wondering if you saw something in him he hadn’t dared to believe existed.

Your smile deepened. “There was one time, years ago…” You laughed under your breath, as if it were still a secret.

“We’d snuck into the kitchens when the elves weren’t looking—he nabbed a chocolate biscuit from the tin. Broke it in half.” You looked toward Marlene and Dorcas, your voice softening like candlelight.

“And he gave me the bigger piece.”

The girls exchanged a glance, both catching the distant look in your eyes—the way your gaze flickered not to the past, but to a version of it you carried close, cherished. You hadn’t even been friends yet. Just two children on opposite sides of a too-large world, momentarily brought together in the dim glow of the kitchen hearth.

You’d spent the rest of that evening curled beside Tilly Toke’s Magical Mishaps, Regulus sat across the table, not saying much. But the half-cookie had meant something, hadn’t it?

The memory wrapped around you like a charm.

And somewhere behind the wall, Regulus closed his eyes for a moment, pressing his thumb into his palm—grounding himself. Because yes. He remembered it exactly that way.

“Aww!” Marlene let out a dramatic gasp, pressing her hands to her heart as if the memory had physically struck her. “He must’ve had a tiny little crush on you, darling,” she teased, her voice lilting like a melody as she batted her lashes.

You laughed under your breath, but Regulus, hidden just around the stone corner of the corridor, felt like his heart had been flung into a freezing lake.

A crush?

Was that how he came across?

His pulse thundered in his ears as panic curled tight in his chest. Surely not. All the little things he’d done—carrying your books when you complained about the weight, offering you his scarf on cold mornings, brewing tea when you stayed up too late studying—all of that was just… friendship. Wasn’t it? Politeness. Chivalry, even. Raised by Walburga or not, he did have some decency.

He tried to believe that.

But the longer he stood there, the more tangled his thoughts became.

None of it was just about kindness. Not really.

You were the only one who made the castle feel less like a cage and more like a dream. The way you laughed when he muttered sarcastic remarks under his breath. The way you hummed when concentrating. The warmth you gave off without even trying.

You were sunlight—unapologetic and golden. And him? He was the boy who lived in the shadows of dark family tapestries and colder expectations.

He didn’t mean to care for you the way he did.

But he thought of you constantly. In between potions ingredients, in the flutter of owl wings across the morning sky, in every flower you ever paused to admire. Even the Black family crest seemed to dim in your presence. His own reflection was easier to face when he imagined you smiling at him.

Gods, he was utterly doomed.

fuck.

Regulus pressed the heel of his hand to his temple, trying to steady himself—anchor his mind back to the cold stone floor beneath his shoes and not the warmth blooming beneath his ribs. None of that meant anything, did it? All those quiet favors, the lingering glances, the moments where his hand brushed yours without needing to—none of it had to suggest something deeper.

He could care for you platonically. Couldn’t he?

He nearly scoffed at himself.

How utterly cliché. The proud, brooding boy spiraling the second he felt something tender for the girl who glowed like she’d been carved from starlight. Maybe he was just being ridiculous. Maybe you really were just friends. Friends could look after each other. Friends could think the other was breathtaking and luminous and—

Merlin help him.

Because if you were to lean in one day, maybe on the edge of a courtyard or under a soft-spoken sky, and confess you wanted something more—he wouldn’t push you away, would he?

His chest tightened. No. He wouldn’t. And that answer, so simple, nearly unravelled him. His thoughts tangled like spellwork gone wrong, and for a moment he swore the castle spun slightly beneath his feet.

“I don’t know about that…” your voice broke through the air, softer than parchment under fingertips.

And Regulus felt it—something unfamiliar and ferocious rising in his chest. Like swallowing honey and fire at the same time. It bubbled with sweetness, with something terrifyingly hopeful. His fingertips tingled, his lips twitched with the start of a smile he didn’t know he could make. He wasn’t sure whether to dread it or chase it.

“Well, you should ask him out!” Marlene said cheerfully, breaking the moment like glass on stone.

“Wh-what?” you stammered, blinking rapidly.

“I’m serious!” she grinned, nudging Dorcas playfully. “He’d say yes. You’re definitely his favorite, and have you seen the way he stares at you?”

I do? Regulus froze where he stood, blood rushing in his ears.

“He does?” your voice slipped out, barely more than a breath, tinged with disbelief and the faintest hope.

Regulus could feel it now—magic surging beneath his skin like it wanted to rise just for you.

Were you surprised? Mortified? Regulus couldn’t tell. From his shadowed post behind the half-open door, he was practically vibrating with the urge to peek out, to catch even a flicker of your expression.

If he could just see your face, he’d know exactly how you were processing all of this—whether you were laughing him off or secretly hoping it might be true.

“Oh yeah, I’ve seen him looking at you loads of times,” James said casually, like he was stating the weather.

“Same,” chimed in Marlene, lounging across the common room couch. “Honestly, I thought you two were already together when I first transferred.”

He did?

“You did?” your voice fluttered out, laced with disbelief—and something else Regulus couldn’t name, something soft and glowing.

“Yeah,” James shrugged like it was obvious. “He always sits close to you. And when he speaks—which isn’t often—it’s usually just to you. I thought it was some kind of intense, brooding flirting.”

No, you imbecile, I just don’t want anyone overhearing—

Regulus dragged a palm down his face, lips twitching with frustration. This was disastrous. He rolled his eyes and tugged slightly at the skin under them, as if it might yank him back into reality. But no—there it was, pulsing like an inconvenient truth just behind his ribs.

Of course he fancied you. Merlin, how hadn’t he seen it?

Or maybe… maybe it had always been there. Dormant. Waiting. Quietly thriving in shared glances, in the way you beamed when he walked into the room, in how his mornings never felt quite right until he heard your laugh.

That laugh drifted out now, pulling him violently from his spiraling thoughts. Light and bright, it danced in the air like the flicker of fairy lights during winter.

“No, no—you’ve got it all wrong,” you said, laughing again as you tried to dismiss the idea, but there was something dangerous in your tone. Something syrupy sweet and hesitant, like you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted it to be wrong. “We’ve known each other forever. If something was going to happen, it probably would’ve by now.”

The pause that followed was heavy. Not uncomfortable—but thick. Charged. Like the castle itself was holding its breath.

Regulus swallowed hard. His heartbeat roared in his ears like crashing waves, deafening and all-consuming. He knew he should walk away, that eavesdropping this long was borderline shameful.

But he couldn’t.

“You say that like you want something to happen,” Marlene teased, her voice laced with playful suspicion. “Are you the one with the crush?”

Regulus felt the breath knock out of him. Every passing second that she didn’t answer made his head spin, made the walls feel closer. If he didn’t move soon, he was going to collapse right here in this hidden corridor, fully exposed in the most humiliating way possible.

“I…” your voice broke through the silence, soft and unsteady.

Regulus clenched his jaw, fighting every instinct not to lean just a little farther around the corner. If he could just see you—if he could catch the twitch of your fingers or the tilt of your lips—he might finally have his answer.

If you were fidgeting, surely it meant you did like him.

If you stood still, frozen in disbelief, then the idea of the two of you must’ve been laughable to you. An impossibility.

“I haven’t thought about it,” you murmured at last, so quietly he barely caught it.

There was a shuffle of feet. Marlene let out a thoughtful hmm, unreadable in tone, and James called out his goodbyes as he bounded off toward the courtyard to meet Sirius and Peter.

Marlene followed not long after, muttering something about borrowing Lily’s notes or charming Professor Slughorn into letting her redo a potion.

You gave a breathy laugh and waved them off with a smile in your voice. And then, once their footsteps faded into silence, you exhaled.

It trembled at the edges.

“Merlin,” you whispered to yourself, pressing a hand to your chest as you dropped onto the worn couch in front of the common room fire. “That was way too close.”

Regulus, hidden in the shadows just beyond the entrance, let his back fall against the cold stone wall.

He’d never known it was possible to be both relieved and utterly destroyed in the same moment.

Your heart was still rattling in your chest, refusing to slow after the teasing from James and Marlene. You needed to get away—away from their knowing eyes, their smug grins, their pointed little looks that made you feel like your thoughts were written across your forehead. You were certain they knew. Certain they’d seen through every flimsy deflection and quiet denial you’d offered.

Just as you were about to flop onto the couch and sink into a well-earned nap by the fire, something caught your eye: a thick hardcover left resting on the arm of the chair beside you. A neat, velvet-green ribbon was caught between the pages, and all the sections before it were practically bursting with parchment scraps and scribbled notes.

You recognized it instantly. If you didn’t already know Regulus had been buried in that book all week, the sheer intensity of the annotations would’ve given it away. No one else read like that. Not in your year, at least.

A smile tugged at your lips as you picked it up. He must’ve left it behind in a hurry. Knowing him, he’d want it back the moment he realized it was gone. You figured he had the afternoon free, so it wouldn’t take long to find him. Besides, your nap could wait.

Cracking it open to the first page marked by a slim pink tab, you let your eyes flit across the topmost note stuck inside—only to immediately become absorbed, not in the book itself, but in the way his handwriting crawled into the margins like vines. You didn’t even notice him until you were practically on top of him.

“Oh—sorry!” you gasped, stepping back from the broad figure you’d nearly barreled into.

When your gaze lifted and locked onto familiar grey eyes, your surprise dissolved into a gentle smile.

“Reg! I was just coming to find you,” you added, brightening with a soft laugh. You held up the book like a prize. “This is yours, right?”

He nodded, slowly, almost as if startled into silence. His hand brushed against yours as he took the book, and for a second he couldn’t seem to find his voice.

“…Thanks, soleil,” he managed finally, quieter than he intended.

“No problem,” you replied easily. “It was in my nap spot,” you added with a sheepish little shrug.

That made Regulus laugh, low and amused. The sound startled even him, but the grin it brought to his face was unstoppable. You tilted your head slightly at the sudden warmth in his expression, your fingers twisting together, the flutter in your chest growing louder by the second.

“Hey, I was wondering…” you began, brows knitting slightly as your courage wrestled with uncertainty.

Regulus, ever so composed, tucked the book under his arm and gave you his full attention.

“Yes, amour?” he asked, voice soft and clear, like he was ready to listen to anything—anything at all—from you.

He watched your fingers begin to fidget again—an old habit of yours—and his heart thudded heavily in his chest. That small, familiar gesture pulled at something deep inside him, something tender and terrifying all at once. You were fidgeting. You were nervous.

“Uh, ah—it’s silly—” you began, your voice hitching as you almost backed out of it. But Regulus shook his head quickly, the usual cool in his features melting into a rare softness. He didn’t want you to stop. Not now. Not when it felt like your words might change something between you.

“I’m sure it’s not,” he said, more firmly than he expected. You glanced up at him in surprise, caught off guard by the seriousness in his voice. “What is it?” he asked again, quieter this time. Earnest.

You blushed.

Actually blushed.

And Regulus felt something in him collapse at the sight. How had he not realized sooner? The way he cared about you—it was more than careful friendship. More than routine familiarity. It was this. That look. That moment. This feeling swelling in his chest like an uncontrollable storm.

“Do you remember when we were little, and my mum always made us have those awkward little tea visits?” you asked, laughing under your breath. The sound was light but edged with nerves. “She’d dress you up like a little heir to the empire.”

Regulus chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the memory. “How could I forget, soleil? You were the only thing making them bearable.”

You opened your mouth as if to explain yourself further, then stopped short. Your gaze dropped to your hands again, which were still twisting in your lap, and your smile grew quiet.

“I don’t know, I guess I…” you stumbled, your words catching on emotion you hadn’t quite figured out yet. Merlin, you hated how your voice trembled. How silly it made you feel. “Do you remember when we became friends?”

You rushed the question out, afraid of losing the courage altogether.

Regulus nodded, his expression unreadable—but not cold. There was something still behind his eyes. Watching you closely. Listening like he always did, but with his heart too, now.

“I do,” he said gently. “You spilled ink on my essay, and I didn’t hex you for it.”

You laughed at that, your eyes glinting. “That was the moment, huh?”

“I think it always had been,” he replied, voice almost too quiet to catch.

“I do,” he replied without hesitation.

“Like, actual friends,” you clarified, raising a brow, not convinced he’d thought that through. “Not just two kids being dropped off at some posh tea party and expected to get along. I mean—real friends.”

Regulus nodded again, a little smile tugging at his lips.

“I do,” he repeated, softer this time, a hint of amusement in his tone. “You don’t?”

You pressed your lips together thoughtfully, chewing at the corner of one as you shook your head slowly. Your brow furrowed as you tried to remember, and Regulus gave a low chuckle at the sight, eyes glinting with fondness.

“Well?” you asked, voice tinged with impatience. “What changed?”

“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” he said with mock hurt, tilting his head and placing a dramatic hand on his chest. “That wounds me amour, you know.”

“I didn’t think you had feelings, Black,” you shot back playfully, a teasing lilt to your voice. “But come on, tell me.”

You looked at him expectantly, eyes wide and gleaming with curiosity. Regulus found himself caught in your gaze, helpless to look away.

You always did that—held his attention like no one else ever had. But this time, there was something different. Something unspoken between the words, resting in the stillness of the air between you.

He swallowed thickly. If you asked anything of him like this, he would give it without pause. It hit him like a charm straight to the chest. That soft glint in your eyes—he wondered if he’d always missed it, or if it had only just begun to appear.

“It was right before we came to Hogwarts,” he said finally, voice quieter now, like he was unearthing something sacred. “The weekend before the train. Do you remember?”

You nodded, the memory vague but there. You’d spent a late summer afternoon at Grimmauld Place while your parents caught up with his.

You vaguely recalled teasing him for organizing his trunk with meticulous precision and muttering something about the Weird Sisters under his breath.

“I remember you sorting your books by spine colour like some cursed Ravenclaw,” you teased, grinning.

Regulus huffed a laugh. “You were sitting on the floor in my room,” he continued, tone suddenly gentler. “You brought every sweet from Honeydukes you could carry and made me try all the ones I said I hated.”

Your grin softened into a warm smile.

“And then you told me,” he said, eyes flicking to yours, “that if Hogwarts was awful, and I hated every second of it, at least I’d have someone to sit with on the train ride back.”

The memory bloomed in your chest like an old Polaroid, blurry around the edges but warm all the same.

“You meant it,” he added. “And I think… that’s when I knew.”

“When we became friends?” you asked.

He looked at you for a long moment, then gave a slight nod, lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes—not out of sadness, but because there was more to it than he could say.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “That’s when everything changed.”

“Professor let us move in a night early,” Regulus recalled, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Probably so the castle staff could have one last evening of peace before the school year started.”

You laughed under your breath at the realization, nodding. “At the time it felt like freedom. Our own space for the first time.”

“Exactly,” he agreed, eyes soft with the memory. “Feels strange thinking back now. It was just you and me in this massive castle… for a while at least.”

“I almost forgot that,” you admitted, the corners of your mouth curling up as you thought of it. The quiet corridors. The chill of stone floors under your socks. The thrill of choosing your own bedtime, your own space. “It feels like it’s always been this way.”

“But you don’t remember the first night?” he asked, tilting his head.

You squinted, trying to trace the memory like it was hidden in fog. There were flashes—wandering the halls, fiddling with enchanted portraits, a failed attempt at brewing hot cocoa with a half-working kettle you’d found in one of the old kitchens…

“You woke me up,” Regulus said, chuckling softly.

Your eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh—Merlin. Right. I couldn’t sleep and—”

“You were bored,” he supplied, shaking his head fondly. “You dragged me out of bed and made me sit with you in the common room. And then you made me watch that ridiculous enchanted Muggle film projection your dad enchanted for you.”

You snorted. “The Princess Bride is a classic, I don’t care what you say Reggie.”

“It’s too long,” he shot back without missing a beat. “And you didn’t even stay awake. I sat there like an idiot while you snored on my shoulder.”

You covered your face with your hands, laughing with secondhand embarrassment. “Okay, okay—”

“You talked through half of it,” he went on, grinning. “You said you were scared.”

The laughter softened on your lips, surprise flickering in your gaze.

“I did?” you asked, quieter now.

Regulus nodded, watching you intently.

“You said you didn’t know what Hogwarts would be like,” he continued, voice gentler. “You were afraid you’d mess everything up. But then you said as long as I was around, maybe it’d be alright.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The memory settled over you like a forgotten charm being reawakened.

“And it was,” he added softly. “Alright, I mean.”

Your eyes met his again, and there was something about the way he looked at you then—like you were the only thing anchoring him to this moment. Like he’d never forgotten that night for a reason.

“You said you were scared of failing,” Regulus’ voice dipped low again, quieter than before—almost reverent. “That… you were afraid of never becoming powerful enough to protect the people you cared about.”

Despite the memory being so old, embarrassment flickered through you now like a lit match to dry parchment. You couldn’t believe this was the moment he’d held onto all this time. Of all things, this one?

“I almost wish I hadn’t asked,” you muttered, cheeks burning, “I can’t believe I said that to you.”

But Regulus didn’t tease. In fact, his smile turned almost fond.

“Then you told me you thought I was strong,” he continued, and for the first time, there was the faintest trace of pink brushing the tops of his cheeks. “You asked if I’d help you… get strong too. Like me.”

Your eyes widened slightly. The image of little you, curled in a blanket in the Slytherin common room, whispering fears into the dim glow of floating candles, was something hazy and far away.

But Regulus? He remembered it like it had just happened.

“And then,” he added with a snort, “you passed out mid-sentence, head on my shoulder. I was stuck watching the rest of that bloody Muggle film just so you wouldn’t wake up and yell at me for skipping to the end.”

“You watched the rest of the movie?” you asked, your voice soft with wonder.

He laughed. “Every last minute.”

You blinked, stunned. “I can’t believe I don’t remember any of that.”

“You were exhausted,” Regulus shrugged like it didn’t matter, even though it clearly had. “And it was a long time ago. I never expected you to remember it… I just never forgot.”

You chewed on your lip, falling quiet as warmth coiled in your chest. That kind of memory… someone keeping it for you when you hadn’t even known to treasure it—it meant more than you could say.

But then he stepped forward.

Just a single pace, barely anything. And yet your whole body felt it—the sudden closeness, the silence that wrapped around you both like a breath held too long.

“And by the way…” he murmured, pulling your gaze up to his with ease. “I do kind of stare at you, a lot.”

Your face went red so fast you thought your ears might start steaming.

“You—you heard that?” you squeaked, mortified.

“And then some,” Regulus replied smoothly, and despite the flush still tinting his cheekbones, he was smiling. Really smiling

For once, he didn’t feel like hiding.

“Did you mean all of that, soleil?” he asked.

And this time, the air between you was electric.

Your mouth opened once. Closed. Opened again.

The conversation from earlier came crashing down on you all at once, each word echoing in your head with horrifying clarity. He’d heard it. All of it. Your rambling. Your clumsy affection disguised as hypothetical questions. And—Merlin—had he heard that last part?

“I mean, y—yeah. Yeah,” you stammered, nodding just a little too fast. “Of course I did.”

But your voice had gone breathless, barely even sound.

Regulus tilted his head slightly, gaze fixed so firmly on you you thought he might see through you completely.

“Even that last part?” he asked, stepping forward again. The hem of his robes brushed yours now, but you didn’t move back. You couldn’t.

“Last part?” you echoed stupidly, throat dry.

“Yeah,” he nodded, and this time his hand lifted—not hesitantly, but reverently—as though you might vanish if he rushed the moment. His thumb ghosted beneath your jaw, the faintest brush of contact that left you aching for more.

“You know,” he murmured, voice deep and velvet-smooth, “that bit where you said you hadn’t really thought about me like that.”

You remembered. Of course you did. It was the one part of the conversation that had clanged in your mind like a bell since it left your lips.

“You meant that too?”

You swallowed hard. His fingers were still at your chin, gently anchoring you in place, and the look in his eyes—

You couldn’t look away if you tried.

“No,” you breathed, and it was so soft it nearly disappeared into the silence between you. But Regulus heard it. He saw it form on your lips, caught the tremble behind it.

“No, I didn’t mean that.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—small, private, and impossibly warm. You watched it unfold, saw the way his eyes softened as he noticed your hands fidgeting again.

He knew.

You felt it too.

“And what did you mean to say?” he asked, and there was a raw sort of need in the question, like it had lived in him for ages, waiting to be unburdened.

Like if you said the words now, it might change everything.

Your gaze lingered on his lips.

You hadn’t meant to stare, but he was close now—closer than you ever imagined he’d dare to be. And yet he was still waiting. Still asking for the truth with a calm so controlled it nearly masked the ache in his eyes.

He wanted to hear it. And you wanted to say it. But wanting and doing were not the same.

“I meant…” you began, eyes flicking up to meet his when you realized how long you’d been caught staring. “I meant I have thought about… something more…”

The words came out in pieces, light and thin like cobwebs, hardly brave or poetic. Nothing like the declarations you’d imagined in your head a hundred times. But it was real. And yours. And when you cleared your throat and added, “But they didn’t need to know that,” with a sheepish little laugh, something cracked wide open in his chest.

“No, I suppose not,” Regulus murmured, and the faintest smile tugged at his lips—one of those rare, real ones that reached his eyes and made them glow softer than moonlight.

You didn’t feel so nervous anymore. Not around him.

“So…” you tilted your head, teasing gently. “Spying on your friends these days, is that your new hobby, Black?” Your voice was quiet, but there was laughter behind it, light and fluttering. “Bit off-brand for you, Regulus.”

He chuckled lowly, and your heart stumbled at the sound—low, smooth, and entirely unguarded.

“When else was I going to hear you say all those nice things about me?” he replied, his voice rich with warmth and something sweeter. His thumb still rested beneath your chin, brushing idly along your skin like he hadn’t even realized he was doing it.

Regulus Black had never been the touchy type. He was all self-restraint and deliberate space. But now? His touch was gentle, steady, and intentional. Like he had finally decided not to pull away anymore.

“I quite liked the part where you said I was a gentleman,” he added, the corners of his mouth quirking with quiet amusement.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning too wildly.

And then he leaned in. Not rushed, not hesitant—just certain. Your eyes widened, nearly burning from how long you kept them fixed on his. Everything about him in this moment—his steady breath, the warmth of his hand, the tender curve of his mouth—made the world shrink until it was just him and you in this quiet corridor that smelled faintly of old parchment and lavender.

“But for the record,” he whispered, and you swore you could feel every word land against your lips, “I’m lucky to have you, too.”

Your chest swelled, and your smile came freely now, radiant and soft as your fingers curled slightly in the fabric of his sleeve.

Yes. Just as you thought.

He was the warmest person you knew.

Regulus Black was the warmest person in this wide universe.

"And," he continued, his voice a shade softer, more reverent now, "you are my favorite."

You let out a breath of laughter, quiet and a little stunned, before you rolled your eyes at him. There was no real exasperation behind it. Only a fondness so deep it practically glowed from you.

"I know," you murmured, narrowing your eyes with playful suspicion. The smile you wore, though, that was sincere. Sweet and sincere and so unguarded it made Regulus feel like you had just handed him your entire heart without even realizing it.

"Must be a side effect of your staring problem."

He tilted his head slightly, guiding your chin up with the faintest tug of his thumb. His nose brushed yours.

You could feel the warmth of his breath as it mingled with yours, and just as you leaned into it, just as the world started to tilt, he paused. Of course he did. Always the gentleman, no matter how undone he felt inside.

"May I?" he murmured. His lashes dipped as his gaze flicked between your eyes and your lips, every syllable spoken like a secret. "Kiss you?"

You almost laughed from how impossibly soft he could be. You wanted to throw caution to the wind, wrap your fingers in the collar of his uniform and pull him in like you were in the climax of a dramatic novel. But your voice was trapped in your throat, and your limbs would not obey you.

So you closed your eyes.

And nodded.

Just barely.

It was enough.

His lips found yours with a grace that felt practiced, like he had been dreaming of this for far too long. And he kissed you like he was afraid you might slip through his fingers. Gentle, tentative, almost reverent.

Your body softened completely. Every piece of tension unraveled in his arms. Your hands, which had been stiff by your sides, slowly lifted and curled gently over his shoulders.

His lips deepened against yours in return, not forcefully, just sure, like he had found something precious and had finally been allowed to hold it.

His free hand, no longer gripping the book he always carried like armor, settled against your cheek. His fingers trembled ever so slightly before the tip of his index ghosted along the shell of your ear, down the line of your jaw, and back up again. Slow. Slow. Slow. Like he wanted to memorize you.

You felt like you might float away. Your heart swelled so high in your chest you were almost afraid of what would happen if you stopped.

And when you did part, it was not with loss, but with a quiet sort of awe.

Your lips still tingled. Your fingers still trembled slightly on his shoulders. Yet all you could do was smile. A real one. Warm and quiet and deeply content. And Regulus? He wore the same smile. Mirrored and soft. As if kissing you had rewired something inside him.

You did not even open your eyes for a moment, basking in it. And that made him chuckle.

"Next time," you murmured, dazed and dreamy, "I’ll let them know you are a good kisser too."

He smiled—genuinely, boyishly, almost bashfully—and leaned in to press a featherlight kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Don’t," he whispered. "I like that being just yours."

"Will you?" he murmured with a tease laced beneath the softness of his voice.

You nodded, leaning your cheek into his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. The warmth of his palm made you glow, even as a blush crept up your cheeks and your nose crinkled with hesitation.

"Well, maybe not right away," you mumbled, your tone sheepish now.

Regulus laughed, actually laughed. And it was the kind that made you feel like you had just discovered a hidden treasure.

His smile was wide, unguarded, and it lit up every inch of his face. The pink hue blooming across his cheeks was proof enough that whatever mask he usually wore had fallen completely away for you.

"Maybe not right away," he echoed. His voice dipped low again. Softer now and more tender.

His thumb stroked along the curve of your cheekbone, so carefully, like you were something fragile and precious that only he got to hold.

The sound of his voice, husky and warm against your lips, was enough to pull you under.

Your eyes fluttered closed instinctively. And when his lips brushed over yours once again, it was with all the careful affection of a boy who had never believed himself worthy of softness until now.

You kissed him back just as sweetly. Your fingers traced along the sharp edge of his jaw, hesitating for only a second before settling there. You wanted to pull him closer, wanted to let passion take over, but you did not, not yet. There would be time for that. You could feel it.

He would make time for you.

And for the first time in a very long while, Regulus believed in what you saw in him. He believed he could be kind, gentle, and loved.

But only because you had seen it first. Had named it. Had handed it to him freely, without condition.

He thought he should tell you, one day. That everything good he was becoming had started with you. But that could wait.

You had time now.

Time enough for him to return the favor. Time enough to tell you again and again just how extraordinary you were, until his lungs gave out and your cheeks stayed permanently pink.

Because that was the kind of future he wanted.

One where he never stopped reminding you that you were his favorite, too.

The words left his lips in a breath, a quiet confession. "Tu es le soleil qui me réchauffe."

You are the sun that warms me up.

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