unspeakable | jegulus

cry cry cry baby

chapter title: cry baby cry by the beatles

tw: one small conversational reference to suicide/suicidal thoughts in a memory.

His first occlumency lesson had gone better than expected, according to Dumbledore, who immediately knocked down his mental defences like they were made of tissue paper. James had taken to practicing the way Regulus taught him at all hours of the day. When he was in class he held up his mental walls like shields all around him, in the hallway, with his friends, in his dorm. Even when he played quidditch he focused on his occlumency. It was impacting his ability to play, but also felt like a welcome challenge. It had been a while since quidditch felt challenging for James.

He knew it was life or death. He wanted to live. He wanted to be able to go with Regulus into the mouth of the beast in December, so he wouldn't have to go alone.

By their sixth lesson, James managed to keep Dumbledore at bay for fifteen minutes straight, which was apparently incredibly impressive for a beginner. Regulus deflected him with skill. He seemed to have minimized his experience with occlumency, perhaps out of shame.

He was a master at keeping his thoughts contained in his own head. James shouldn't have been surprised.

Regulus had taken to testing him at random whenever they were alone together, looking in his eyes and whispering Legilimens. He probed into his thoughts.

"You need to empty yourself of emotion, James."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

They were in James' dorm. The walk through the common room had almost been funny it was so uncomfortable, heads turning in their direction, judgmental stares. A soft, appalled intake of breath from Marlene. Probably at his audacity.

"You need to find a place in yourself that's filled with nothing. Somewhere you can retreat when you feel pain, or anger. It'll help you to have a place like that in your mind regardless, not just for occlumency. You're going to have to get better at hiding your emotions. You can't flinch, or bleed in front of any of them. It's weakness. They'll see any feeling in you as a moral failing, and it will be punished. Your softness makes you malleable. Easy to control."

"How did you learn all of this?"

"How do you think I learned to hide my emotions, James?" He raised a dark eyebrow. "For someone who is clearly very intelligent it's shocking to me how little you use your brain."

"Okay, obvious question, I'm sorry." James shoved his hair away from his eyes and it stubbornly fell forward again. He needed a haircut. "You learned under duress, so shouldn't I have to-"

"Legilimens." Regulus plunged into his mind, and he immediately threw up his mental defences. He could feel him searching for cracks, like a cold hand trailing over his skin. He didn't avert his gaze, and he found a loose stone. He shoved through, and James focused on nothing, the cool nothingness he had instructed him to find, in the cool silver colour of his eyes. He pushed deeper, eyes, dark grey, warm brown, then a flash of emerald and warm pink lipgloss on his mouth.

"I think it looks better on you." Fire-red hair in his hand, laid over the backs of his knuckles, and the warm brown of her freckles on her sunburned shoulder. Black hair in his hands, pale eyes, milk white skin. The refrain in his mind that night, Is this what it's supposed to feel like? Why has it never-