𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐋𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐉𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐔𝐒

PART ONE ii: Mirabillia

It's been one day, and James is yet to inform his friends of his success in convincing Regulus to join their quest.

See, one day through the perspective of the Marauders may as well be a decade. One day is more than enough time for a life-altering change to take place, whether it be heavenly or disastrous.

One day is more than enough time for Sirius to be arrested and suspended for a week, for Peter to fall down a gap in the stairs and break his neck, for Remus to fucking bark at someone and for James to—

Well, for James to do anything that he so desires.

So, all in all, waiting a day to tell his three best mates about a rather pertinent update in their plan for the winter has the possibility of resulting in nothing besides trouble.

His excuse that he's developed to convince himself out of exposing what's happened is that he's afraid the boy may still turn around and say no.

It's plausible, is it not? It's still quite soon after their deal, and it's something Regulus would certainly do if it meant it would result in James' humiliation.

So, he's remained quiet. Thankfully, James is quite practiced in the art of keeping his mouth shut for the benefit of a valuable outcome.

Although, just because he's skilled at something, doesn't automatically mean there aren't some exposed effects on staying tight-lipped. After all, Sirius had in fact noticed something was up in the dorm this morning when it had taken the threat of a pitcher of water being poured over his bunk to coax James from the warmth of his sheets.

"Prongs, mate," he'd said, eyes wide in concern. " You look bloody depressed. C'mon, get up. You need some scran."

"Don't ever call breakfast 'scran' again," James had mumbled into his pillow. Nonetheless, he'd risen five minutes later, given that he'd heard the tap turning in the open bathroom.

However, besides that little incident, he's been rather discrete. A true minx about it. Sneaky.

Decided upon during his hours of internal debate last night, bugging Regulus after his agreement has become a requirement. A definite. A necessity.

If anybody (Regulus) asks, James will claim he's making sure to do good on his own promises so Regulus fulfils his end. Learning how to be in each other's personal space without losing their heads is a key component to James being able to do the boy's work, after all.

In reality, he's hardly thinking about the specifics of their bargain. He's craving too much of a bloody good time irritating Regulus out of his mind . Destined to be little more than a thorn in the boy's side, James is on edge waiting for the award of that one look that says Regulus would enjoy tearing James limb from limb.

Merlin, this is going to be a fun number of weeks.

Briefly, he wonders if this makes him an arsehole.

Another brief moment tells him that he doesn't care when it comes to Regulus.

Blessed by his class choices this year, James has a spare in the first slot of the day, so wandering down to the Great Hall ten minutes instead of an hour before breakfast transitions over is entirely justified.

Sleep had evaded him last night (as Sirius' water pitcher threat is indicative of), so it isn't truly his fault that he's dragging his feet through the hulking doors and his uniform's all askew. White button-up that isn't actually buttoned up very much, undone tie slung around his neck, and hair in a dishevelled frenzy; he must look like he's escaped a basement that lacked basic morning routine requirements.