𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐋𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐉𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐔𝐒

PART ONE iii: Tape

Four days later, James is coming to the difficult realisation that he has underestimated just how frustrating it is to maintain the shithead scheme of irritating (or bonding with) Regulus Black.

In his favour, it isn't like there's a handbook out there for trying to convince someone he hardly tolerates to tolerate him, but James is beginning to think he'd really fucking appreciate one. Or at least some pointers.

For one, Regulus is stupidly hard to find without the Marauder's Map, and James isn't willing to risk pulling the thing out of hiding each time he's bored enough to seek out an outlet to irritate with his energy.

Secondly, whenever he does manage to find Regulus, he's always busy. Whether he's too enraptured by his work or conversing with people more "interesting than him", it doesn't seem to matter. He's always too busy to pay any attention to James, unless he's right up in his face.

Thirdly and finally, Regulus has started giving him this look. He isn't sure what it is, for he's hardly ever close enough to dedicate genuine time into deciphering it, but it's beginning to piss him off. What's he done now? What cardinal sin has he committed to earn a glare that must be brimming with distaste?

(A lot of things, possibly. But that's besides the point, is it not?)

So, James is frustrated. A little beaten down. If he dares to say so, perhaps a bit like a kicked puppy.

"I've only managed to bug him twice in the past two days!" He complains, kicking mindlessly at a stray pebble abandoned in the corridor. It's the transitional period between third and fourth classes right now - James is lucky that he has a spare in fourth, considering whatever had been left of his brain after Regulus had tossed it around was burned to a crisp during Alchemy in third. "And I haven't gotten a single bit of inclination regarding his thoughts on the bloody plan. It's like he has a sixth sense for avoiding me or making it impossible for me to speak to him over everybody else!"

As their quadruple continues walking, Peter pats his shoulder. "Some people are tricky to talk to, mate," he consoles, and James loves him to death but that is anything but helpful. "Can't do much about it, can we?"

"It's just..."

It's merely that he makes me want to tear my hair from my skull and set myself on fire, and nobody has ever managed such a feat before.

"I don't understand," he settles on, for the other sentence feels too personal. "Sure, I know that Regulus hates my guts for some unspecified reason, but it's really beginning to grate on my nerves."

Forever wise beyond his years, much like the seers citizens pay hundreds of Galleons to seek their futures and fortunes from, Peter hums considerately. "And how do you think your insistence is grating on his nerves?"

"I don't know, Pete," James impores, despair pulsing from his flailing limbs, "but I'd really bloody like to. If he'd just let me talk to him—"

"Mate," Sirius groans, rubbing his face with calloused palms. "Can you please shut up about my baby brother?"

That's a tad unexpected.

Ever since his little... moment in the dormitory a few days ago that they've collectively decided to not mention (as per usual), Sirius has been kinder to James. Less sarcastic, less demanding. More prone to offering impromptu hugs of love.

Sirius loves him, of course - that much is obvious, considering James genuinely thinks they'd both die if they were ever to part ways. It's merely that they have different ways of showing such affection.