unspeakable | jegulus

a falling star

chapter title: this flight tonight by joni mitchell

The next morning, the twelfth, the day of the eclipse, James crept to Sirius' bedside drawer and slowly eased it open. Sirius had never been an early riser, but he was a light sleeper, and James really didn't want to get caught. He grabbed the map and shoved it in his pocket, then slowly eased the drawer closed again. Hopefully he wouldn't have to give it back for a while. Having the map in his hands would make it much easier to keep this weird meeting (and any future ones) with Regulus a secret.

He let out the breath he'd been holding when he was far enough away from his friend's bed. He grabbed his broomstick and went about as he usually did in the morning. Guiltlessly. Nothing amiss. Washing his face with cold water and brushing his teeth.

He felt nervous, but mostly there was an intense feeling of anticipation brewing in his chest. He had no idea what Regulus would propose, but he was burning with curiosity. He'd never expected anything like this from him.

Regulus had always been at the periphery of his life. He was the shadowy corner in Sirius' memory. The ghost haunting the halls. They would walk past him and pretend they hadn't seen him, ignore him in the Great Hall and ignore him during quidditch games.

He was a spectre of darkness.

Yet, he wanted to destroy something evil.

Maybe he was being naive, but he wanted to believe there was goodness in Regulus. He wanted to believe in goodness in everyone, but especially him.

He looked out the window at the sunrise burning the sky orange and pink.

He looked at himself, his face. It was a face. Maybe a good one, maybe not. He could never really tell. He ran a hand through his hair.

This would go well. Today would be a good day. It had to be. It had to be.

——————

"You're late."

"I was trying not to wake anyone up."

Regulus looked positively peevish. His mouth was a thin line, the shadows under his eyes had deepened so intensely they almost looked bruised.

"Don't let it happen again, Potter. You need to take this seriously. This isn't a game." He paced back and forth on the yellowing grass in shiny black shoes, polished to a mirror-like gleam. James had never seen him so nervous. He ran a hand through his hair. Usually it was immaculate, smooth and soft looking but perfectly arranged. Today, it was messy. Waves of curly black hair fell over his eyes.

He liked it more, but he wouldn't tell him.

"I am taking it seriously." He tossed his broom down into the grass.

"I meant what I said in the letter. This is your last chance to get out of this. If you're not sure, or you think you'll change your mind, you should tell me now. I don't want to tell you all of this only for you to back out and walk away with all of my secrets. Unfortunately, this requires me to place a modicum of value in your word. As little as it means to me." Regulus looked sickly pale. "I don't want to tell you any of this. Maybe this is stupid."

"I want to help. I don't know what your plan is, and maybe I'll regret saying this once you tell me, but I'm here because I want to be here. I want the same thing you want."

"You want to destroy him." Regulus looked into his eyes more intently than he ever had before. James was pinned where he stood, trapped by his knife-sharp attention. He felt like he was looking through him, straight down to the place his newfound sense of dread was alive in his chest. A place beside his heart. Regulus was intimidating. James didn't think that sort of thing about very many people. "What would you give up to save this world, Potter?"