CANNONBALL ⇒ jegulus

FIFTY TWO

Regulus doesn't open his journal for the next week.

Not to write.

Not to scribble down things he observes that he thinks could make something poetic.

Not for any reason at all.

He fears seeing James' letter again. Regulus finds himself living in fear of that goddamn letter.

He and Bowie continue to sleep together, co-sleeping. Regulus doesn't move a whole lot in his sleep, so he and little Bowie are pretty content with their new arrangement. Regulus simply dreads Ted discovering all of his hard work with the nursery has essentially been discarded for now.

By now, James hasn't seen Bowie in two weeks and Regulus is beginning to feel slightly bad about that. But he had told James, on numerous occasions, that he was welcome to see their son regardless. Regulus can't be at fault that James simply did not take him up on that offer.

Regulus is currently rummaging around his kitchen with Bowie strapped to his chest in the ridiculous emerald green baby carrier that Dorcas had given him. Bowie makes small noises, dribbling a little down his small bib as Regulus makes tea. He's feeling especially tired today, postpartum finally catching up to him.

Regulus' phone rings in the pocket of his sweatpants and he struggles to fish it out. It's Sirius.

"Hello?" Regulus greets. Bowie fusses a little bit at the sudden lack of attention he's receiving so Regulus merely brings his tea to his kitchen table before sitting down and softly rubbing Bowie's small, chubby cheeks.

"Hey, starboy," Sirius' voice beams. "How're you doing?"

Regulus nods curtly, taking hold of Bowie's tiny finger in his palm. "I'm good, how're you? How's Remus?" He asks. He takes a sip of his tea, waiting on a reply.

"We're good. Actually, that's why I was calling you, Reggie. Remus and I are having brunch at ours in a bit, we wanted you to join us," Regulus can practically hear the smirk in his older brother's voice. "It's a special occasion," Sirius adds.

Regulus frowns. "What kind of special occasion?" He ponders.

"The special kind, obviously. Honestly, you're supposed to be the clever one-"

"Sirius," Regulus whines. "I'm busy with writing, my publishers are expecting something big by the end of the year. I can't afford to miss valuable writing time for something silly,"

Regulus is hopefully that his latest project will be enough to pay the bills and keep food in the house.

"Remus and I have an announcement-"

"Please do not tell me Remus Lupin is pregnant, Sirius, because I can give you four hundred reasons as to why pregnancy is not ideal," Regulus retorts, half joking, half serious. He strokes Bowie's little head, mouthing silently how he did not mean that last part.

Sirius laughs. "No, no, God, no!" He answers. "Not after the mess it's put you in-" Sirius cuts himself off. "Sorry, um, that was a tad bit rude," He trails.

Regulus rolls his eyes. "Gee, thanks for at least being self aware,"

Sirius chuckles lightly on the other end of the phone. "Well, we're having brunch, all of us are. I think it's time we all get back together, have a few laughs, etcetera," Sirius pauses. "But, just so you know, Prongs will obviously be there and I refuse to choose who to invite and who not to invite. But I understand if you don't want to be there," Sirius says quickly.