Nova

Regulus Arcturus Black

There were muggles everywhere. Even in the dark he could make them out, singing and dancing. Some alone, some together.

Regulus didn't really understand why the Marauders had insisted on coming here. Here, at the edge of the woods, in the pitch black night. But right now he didn't even care all that much anymore. There was a warm feeling in his stomach and he should probably be angry at his brother for giving him something with alcohol, but it didn't matter. Not right now.

For some reason someone had lit a bonfire in the middle of the grounds. Its amber glow letting flickering shadows dance. Some of the muggles jumped over it, howling and screaming. Regulus just sat there and watched, a bottle of beer clutched in his hand.

He was content like that, happy even. Until he saw him. There he was, dark and cool. A patient hum in the sea of sirens. In the middle of the throng of dancing muggles, James Potter stood like an oak tree. Rooted and strong.

He'd switched out his glasses for contacts today. The fire's light made his dark skin glow, the short sleeved shirt showing off the ripples of his biceps, the curve of his spine, as he spoke to some red haired girl.

Regulus got up. This was too much. And not enough. He hated all the people, it was too loud. He feared being alone, always too quiet.

With muttered apologies and the use of his elbows did he make it out of the mass of people. The further he got from the fire, the darker the night, the cooler the air got, the more he could breathe again.

There was a bus station just at the road. He had no idea when the next bus would leave. But he didn't particularly care. Maybe the night bus would come, finally take him away from all of this.

Pulling his hood over his head, his headphones over his ears he walked to the small, see through bus stop. There was a flickering neon light beside it, and as he sat on the wooden bench it already gave him a headache.

With a sigh he let his head drop onto the glas. He really shouldn't have had any alcohol. There was a sound to his right and without looking he knew who it would be.

"Hey Reggie," James said, his voice happy and chipper, "you leaving already?"

Regulus gave a noncommittal hum, watching the other man through half lidded eyes. He'd put on a jacket now. Just to follow him? It didn't matter.

James was standing at the edge of the little house, his face scrunched up as if he was contemplating something. It really wasn't fair, he thought bitterly, how he had spent weeks and months training only to still look small and spindly if the angle was bad and James just stood there chest so broad you could probably play a board game on it.

Sighing again Regulus pulled his headphones down. "What do you want Potter?"

James was watching him. Carefully.

Then he seemed to come to a decision, because he walked over and sat right next to Regulus.

Their knees were touching and no matter how much he told himself he should, he couldn't bring himself to move away.

"So, you're not a fan of bonfire's then?" James asked, his voice low and soft. Why did he have to be so bloody nice all the time.

They hadn't really talked in weeks, but James had stayed nice and kind. No hard feelings, not blaming him for anything. For all Regulus could tell, he hadn't even told the others about that night at the club.

Reg leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. He could see James' hands this way, those large, soft hands. Not that it mattered.

"Or where you just jealous because I was talking to Evans?"