𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗣𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗢𝗻𝗲-𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘁𝘀

The Boy at the Apple Stand

"Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die
I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you..."

✵⁂✵

Regulus Black met James Potter at the age of nine by accident. He would come to love accidents, but right now they meant punishments, and loud, hurtful words spoken by people who could care less about the pain they cause.

All that occupied the radar of the small boy was how to survive. He had developed a system with his brother; code words they used to tell if something was about to go wrong, hand squeezes for reassurance, and warning knocks on bedroom doors.

The moment he saw the boy with jet black, messy hair, hazel eyes, and lanky limbs, he knew that it was imminent for his survival that he stayed far away. Why else would his heart pound, his ears ring, and his cheeks flush? This boy was dangerous.

Unfortunately, this boy did not seem to hold the same sentiment towards Regulus. No matter how hard he tried to escape him, he'd follow, and they'd find themselves staring at each other yet again.

The only reason Regulus found himself at the market that day was because Andromeda took them into town for the day. He had accidentally lost sight of his cousin and brother, and now he was being chased around by some rogue child.

Ultimately, he gave up the prospect of continuing to run away, due to this child's apparent love for chasing.

"Hello, my name's James Potter!" He introduced himself rather cheerfully. "What's yours?"

This James Potter was no good indeed. Regulus's first instincts were right. He had grinned crookedly, sticking a hand out for Regulus to shake—seemingly oblivious to how dangerous it would be for him to shake it. The moment this kid opened his mouth it was like being blinded by the sun, and Regulus had only ever lived in the dark.

"Regulus Black," he replied, his voice small.

With a boatload of trepidation, he took James's hand in his for a handshake. The hand was warm, and calloused in his. He felt the corners of his mouth uptick, but tried desperately to keep a neutral expression. He was sure he looked ridiculous.

"Have you been to the market before?" James asked, sitting next to Regulus where he had stopped running away by an apple stand. "My mum and I go every weekend because they have the best fruit. The stuff we grow in the backyard just doesn't taste the same."

The kid did not shut up. Regulus found he didn't mind as much as he probably should've. He talked about the different stands, how sometimes they had animals, about the time he tried to ride one of the goats—spoiler alert, that did not end well—what happens on the weekends his mum is needed at St. Mungo's, how the market will shut down if it rains, and about the first time he ever went to the market.

Regulus adds little quips where he feels the conversation needs them, and if that isn't just as dangerous as the kid's smile that comes afterward. He can practically feel his parents' disapproval when he registers how beat up the clothing James wears is. His bright red shoes and grass-stained jeans seem to be a little worse for wear.

So, as dangerous as it may be for them to spend time together at the apple stand, Regulus grew used to James's company rather quickly. They turned to people watching after James ran out of things to talk about.

Regulus learned that the boy knew pretty much everyone at the market. He waved to people constantly, telling Regulus stories about how he met them. Sometimes the story would be short and pretty normal, his mum had introduced them or something, and other times the story would be chaotic and unbelievable—one in particular that sticks out is how James knocked an entire stand over after trying to ride a muggle bicycle, the owner didn't wave back to him.