What if ? - Marauders Starchaser -

2

James POV:

"We don't have to go back to the dorm quite yet, do we?" I blurted out, jogging up in front of Regulus before he could make it to the portrait hole.

He stopped, arching a brow at me with that infuriating, knowing grin of his. "It's almost as if you don't want to go back, Potter."

I opened my mouth to respond, but my brain short-circuited for a second. I tried to recover, but all that came out was a choked laugh. "I mean—yeah, I just... thought it might be nice to stay down here for a bit longer."

"Uh-huh." His smirk widened, and I felt my face heat up.

Before I could make an even bigger idiot of myself, Regulus calmly set the basket of chocolates down on the table, like he hadn't noticed my entire internal crisis. Then, with a flick of his wand, he lit up the fireplace, the flames crackling and casting warm shadows over the room. The glow bathed his face in golden light, and I had to look away before I started staring.

"Come on," he said simply, reaching out and grabbing my hand. My heart did a weird flip as his cool fingers curled around mine, and he tugged me over to the fireplace without waiting for me to catch up. He sat down on the rug in front of the fire and gestured for me to do the same.

I lowered myself down beside him, trying not to freak out over the fact that our knees were almost touching. It was quiet for a moment, the soft sound of the fire the only thing filling the space between us. I wasn't used to silence with other people—it usually made me feel awkward, like I needed to fill it with something. But with Regulus, it didn't feel awkward. Just... peaceful.

After a while, he spoke. "This may sound a little weird, but... what was it like for you, growing up?"

I blinked, surprised by the question. No one ever really asked about my childhood—it just wasn't something that came up in conversation. But the way Regulus asked, there was a genuine curiosity in his tone, like he actually wanted to know.

"Oh, well," I started, a little unsure where to begin. "It was... pretty great, I guess? My house was always... lively. There were these smells, you know? My mum's cooking—Merlin, the food she made was incredible. She's always in the kitchen, and she'd make these amazing pies, and stews, and there was this one bread thing she made that—oh, you'd love it."

I realized I was rambling, and my face went hot again. "Not that I mean—you know, my mum loves everyone," I added hastily. "So, uh, she'd definitely love you. Not that... I mean, anyway, yeah. The food."

Regulus was watching me, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and I could feel my awkwardness multiplying by the second. I cleared my throat and tried to steer the conversation away from that particular landmine.

"And then there was my dad," I continued, scratching the back of my neck. "He was always coming up with these weird inventions, you know? He's a bit of a tinkerer. Half the stuff in our house has been 'improved' by him in some way—whether it worked or not is a different story. He once tried to enchant a chair to serve tea, but it ended up flinging the teapot across the room instead. My mum still won't let him forget that."

Regulus chuckled softly, and I felt a small rush of satisfaction at the sound.

"Honestly," I added, "believe it or not, I didn't have a lot of friends growing up. I mean, you wouldn't think it, right? But yeah, zero friends. Whether it was because I was weird or because of the magic thing, or just because I was me, I don't know. I got bullied a lot at school. Muggle school, I mean. It wasn't great."

I hesitated, suddenly feeling like I was talking too much. But Regulus was still looking at me with that same, quiet interest, like he actually cared about what I was saying. It was strange—and kind of nice.