Archive of Our Own

“I’m going to absolutely lose it,” Regulus slammed a stack of books down on his desk after storming into his dorm room with the fury of a raging nundu. 

“Your turn,” Pandora said as she painted Barty’s nails.

“No, it isn’t,” Barty said. 

“It’s Evan’s turn,” Dorcas piped up from where she was lounging on the armchair Barty and Evan stole from the Room of Requirement. Regulus only allowed its presence in his room after a thorough cleansing charm. He also changed the colour. Why Evan and Barty wanted a chartreuse lounge chair was beyond him. 

“Evan is busy,” Evan said sleepily from his bed. “Somebody else deal with him. I’m knackered.”

“Quidditch practice is not that tiresome,” Regulus sniffed as he threw himself half on top of Evan. Evan groaned but wrapped his arms around him and tucked Regulus under his chin. 

“What’s the matter?” Evan said, still sounding sleepy. 

Regulus sighed as he buried his face into Evan’s chest. “My brother.”

“Oh no,” Dorcas sighed. “What did he do this time?”

“No, it’s nothing,” Regulus sniffed. “You’re all sick of me. I see how it is.” Usually he would lean in to the jokes but he really wasn’t in the mood. 

“No, no,” Dorcas set the magazine aside. Barty waved his hands to dry his nails and Pandora sent her supplies soaring into her bag with a flick of her wand. Almost in sync, the rest of his friends converged on Evan’s bed. Barty curled up behind him, Dorcas sat beside Evan and buried her hands in his hair, and Pandora splayed herself out across their legs, letting her head hang over the edge of the bed. 

“Tell us,” Barty said. 

“We were only joking,” Dorcas promised as she played with his hair. “Did Sirius do something to upset you?”

Regulus curled into the warmth of his friends, “He’s hiding something.”

“The monthly disappearances,” Evan said knowingly. “Didn’t you figure that one out though?”

“I’ve already started crocheting Lupin a little wolf doll. Do you think he’ll like it?”

“While I’m sure he will appreciate the support, it’s probably best not to give that to him until I’ve told him I know,” Regulus told Pandora. “It’s not about the wolf thing anyway. There’s something else.”

“Something other than the Gryffindors harbouring a werewolf?”

“They’re hardly harbouring him,” Dorcas prodded Evan for his comment. “Dumbledore must know.”

“Obviously,” Barty snorted, snuggling into Regulus from behind. “Who else knows, do you think?”

“Maybe the girls?” Evan suggested. 

“No chance, McKinnon is clueless,” Dorcas said with a haughty look on her face. “She wouldn’t know a werewolf from a crup.”

Amused, Regulus met Evan’s eyes. Dorcas’ crush on Marlene was hilarious. It seemed to present itself through snooty comments and sexually charged insults. 

“What do you think Sirius is hiding then?” Pandora asked. 

Regulus sighed loudly. There was the problem. He didn’t know what else Sirius was hiding but there was definitely something and, impassioned, he explained his findings to his friends. Every full moon, Lupin acted more or less the same. Sometimes he was more agitated, other times he just seemed exhausted. On the day after the full moon, the three Gryffindors Lupin foolishly decided to befriend (Regulus’ idiot older brother included) all acted as if they’d not had a wink of sleep the night before. Every so often they’d be alarmingly peppy, as if they’d downed several invigoration draughts to get through the day. Most times, they were as exhausted as Lupin. 

“Hm,” Barty hummed, “that is strange.”

“Gryffindors are sentimental,” Evan said plainly. “Maybe they stay up all night waiting for him to get back.”

“Unlikely,” Regulus immediately rebuffed, “I’ve followed them every full moon for the last three consecutive moons. The three imbeciles go out onto the grounds and the next morning Lupin is brought straight to the hospital wing by Madam Pomfrey. I know they go outside, but I always lose track of them somewhere around the Whomping Willow. It’s like they vanish.”

“Well, we know about Potter’s cloak.”

Regulus nodded at Dorcas. “It’s not that. Potter doesn’t bring it on full moon nights.”

Pandora made a confused noise, “Really? Well, they’re not very good at keeping secrets then, are they? Anyone could follow them and figure out Lupin’s condition. There’s only so many times you can see how exhausted Lupin is on the full moon and the scars on his face and not connect the dots.”

“I figured that out halfway through first year,” Regulus sniffed. “You all took far too long.”

“Excuse me for not giving a damn about your brother’s escapades,” Evan squeezed him. 

Barty laughed into his hair, “Maybe they’re doing some sort of sacrificial ritual. The full moon is important for a lot of magical spells.”

“Again, unlikely,” Regulus sighed. These were Gryffindors with all their moral hang-ups and quivering stomachs that turned at the sight of blood. “They’re up to something. For the life of me I cannot figure out what it is. It’s almost as if they’re with Lupin the whole time but that’s impossible. I’d know if my own brother were a werewolf.”

“Hold on, where does Lupin even transform?”

Regulus shrugged awkwardly while lying down, “No idea, Ev. I would assume somewhere off the grounds.”

“Hm,” Pandora hummed thoughtfully. “The Willow is near the edge of the cliffs. Maybe they go down the pathway into Hogsmeade and apparate offsite so he can transform safely.”

“You’re giving Dumbledore far too much credit,” Barty said snidely. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he shuts Lupin in an abandoned classroom and lets him go crazy.”

“Dumbledore isn’t that stupid,” Evan reached over to flick his ear. “Surely they’d use the tunnel into Honeydukes if they were going to Hogsmeade. It’s much quicker and we know they know about it.” Because Regulus found out about the tunnel while snooping and following his brother who couldn’t do anything with subtlety. Then he told all his friends, like any little sibling would; Barty’s chocolate stash thanked him for his kindness. “Also, it doesn’t make any sense to take such a long detour by going past the Willow. That tree is berzerk on a good day.”

“Plus, going through the main gates is a risk,” Dorcas pointed out, “and if Potter really doesn’t bring his cloak then Regulus would see them go that way. They must disappear somewhere around the Willow.”

Pandora gasped suddenly, “Oh! The tunnel!” At their silence she waved a hand, “There’s a tunnel to Honeydukes from Hogwarts. What if there’s a tunnel around the Whomping Willow?”

Thoughtful, Regulus pondered her theory. That would make sense if not for the fact that the Whomping Willow wouldn’t allow anyone near it, which was why Regulus always lost sight of the Gryffindors. The second the tree started up he had to duck behind a bush to avoid its swinging branches; after roughly fifteen seconds of wild thrashing, the tree would stop and Regulus would peek out only to find the three Gryffindors had vanished. It was driving him spare. 

Not to be deterred, Pandora sat up, “Think about it! Professor Sprout has to do maintenance on the tree somehow. And what if a student did get too close? They’d have to find a way to calm it without uprooting the whole tree. It’s like with Potions: you don’t brew a draught you don’t have a counter for.”

“Or perform a spell you can’t undo.” Evan said and Pandora nodded excitedly. 

Regulus thought that made an alarming amount of sense. No wonder Pandora was the only true Ravenclaw amongst them. 

“Well reasoned,” Regulus commended. “New theory: they use a tunnel somewhere close to, or under, the tree. Next question: why? What purpose does it serve them all to go?”

Barty hummed, Evan pursed his lips, and Dorcas narrowed her eyes; Pandora went back to lounging, pleased with herself. 

“If you were turned into a werewolf,” Barty said slowly, “the first thing I’d do is try to help.”

Regulus cooed, leaning back. “Aren’t you sweet?”

“Piss off,” Barty squeezed him before snuggling into him. Barty might act cruel but everyone knew he was the biggest softy of all of them  

“Hold on, he has a point,” Evan frowned. “They’re Gryffindors. They’d definitely feel the same. Except they would actually do something about it no matter how ridiculous.”

“I’d do something,” Barty countered, “I just don’t know what. It’s not like I could join in. I don’t want to be a werewolf, sorry Werewolf-Reg.”

“Think like a Gryffindor,” Dorcas mused aloud. “What would I do if I was McKinnon? Hm. Probably something foolish yet heartfelt. Are we sure your brother isn’t a werewolf? You haven’t found clumps of hair in his room or heard howling?”

“Unless you count the stray dog that’s always lurking around the street, no,” Regulus snorted. 

“I’d love to be a dog,” Pandora sighed, hanging off the edge of the bed. “I’d be so free.”

“Become an animagus,” Evan suggested. 

“You don’t get to choose,” Regulus reminded them. 

Pandora sighed again, “If I could become any animal I’d definitely want to be a lizard.”

“A lizard,” Barty said incredulously. “I’d be something big and scary. Then I’d kill my dad and make it look like a freak attack.”

“Now you’re thinking,” Evan grinned. “Fuck. If I could turn into a lion and rip that bastard’s throat out…”

“Idiots,” Dorcas rolled her eyes before smirking. “Where is the subtlety? Be a snake, or a spider. Something small and deadly.”

They continued to debate the merits of different animals but Regulus was caught in his own thoughts. Animals. Animagi. Could it be?

After figuring out Lupin’s lupine secret, Regulus devoted himself to researching everything he could about the creatures. Admittedly, he’d been terrified at first. While he hadn’t run around screaming wolf! at anyone who would listen, he’d shivered every time he caught sight of Remus Lupin, even when the boy smiled at him politely or did something embarrassing like trip over his ridiculously long legs and flip over a bench in the courtyard. Lupin terrified him at first. All he saw when he caught sight of those hazel eyes were poisonous yellow or vibrant amber, like the drawings in the books. His large hands were covered in a thick layer of fur, his neatly trimmed nails suddenly became long curved claws; the pleasant smile on his face stretched into a snarl, saliva dripping from his thick tongue, his venomous teeth bared. To him, Remus Lupin was an animal hiding beneath human skin. 

Then, they spoke. 

Their first conversation was very short and incredibly mundane. Remus bumped into him, they both dropped their books, they helped each other pick them up, awkwardly shuffling their stacks a few times, then Remus wished him a good day and Regulus nodded goodbye. 

Their second conversation was far more interesting. Regulus needed to study for his end of year exams, Remus saw him looking at all of the occupied tables miserably and invited him to share his space. Regulus agreed—purely because he was a tiny first year and didn’t want to bother another older student lest they react like Cousin Bella—and then made a point of sitting as far from Lupin as possible. Lupin was good about it. Even offering Regulus some tips on preparing a study schedule (Regulus did not need those tips, he was no amateur to studying) and then explained the full process of the first year exams (which was actually helpful and somewhat reduced Regulus’ anxiety about the upcoming exams). Their study session went well. They were both the quiet, studious types, and Regulus left the library wondering if those books on werewolves weren’t misinformed. 

No, not misinformed, he later realised. Ignorant. Full of lies and purposeful misinformation to spread discrimination against people who were just people who had been forever changed by a single bite. Some of those people were good, some of them were bad; lycanthropy had no bearing on their character.  

Now, as a fifth year, Regulus was trying to figure out his brother’s newest secret. Beginning sometime in Sirius’ fourth year, he and his three friends started to act strange. They became more focused, intensely so. Their pranks lessened. Their obnoxious activities reduced and there was even that weird month where they took on a vow of silence in protest of the werewolf bill some Ministry witch was pushing. Obviously, Regulus now understood why that was, but it was still bizarre to see the three idiots so quiet. Well, not so much Pettigrew. But the Potter and Black duo being quiet for more than a few hours spelled trouble — the school was on tenterhooks for months. 

Ever since his brother’s sixth year began, Regulus noticed a new pattern emerging. The tiredness of the three idiots was strange, especially since there were no new pranks or anything of the sort. It wasn’t like they were studying for their NEWTs — Regulus’ brother did not study. 

But this new theory…it couldn’t be. 

Firstly, how would they even have achieved such a feat? Regulus didn’t know the full process to becoming an animagus but it was exceptionally tricky. Why else was it such a rare and revered skill? Secondly, he would have known if his brother was an animagus. Wouldn’t there be signs? Regulus would have seen something. A new pet. A new animal lurking around.

Except…there was that black dog hanging around Grimmauld all of a sudden. And, well, Regulus had found some strange black hairs in Sirius’ bedroom but he’d assumed that was from his brother trying to cut his fringe again and failing abysmally before using a lengthening charm to cover up his mistake (he’d done it multiple times before, it really wasn’t that far-fetched). 

Then again, Sirius hadn’t been home much over the Christmas break. Mother forced him to come home but he didn’t stay in the house a lot. If he was an animagus, perhaps that was how he was doing it. Staying out all day as a dog would be easy, nobody would bat an eye at him gallivanting around in a park. 

More to the point, if Sirius were to be any animal, a big stupid dog would be most apt. Loyal, a little dim, full of energy. Yes, his brother was definitely a big dumb mutt. 

Although his new theory was beginning to make sense, Regulus refused to say anything. This was something he needed irrefutable evidence for. He could not tell his friends without checking all the facts first. 

Would he tell his friends? Who was he kidding, of course he would. Just like Sirius obviously told his friends everything about Mother and Father, and Bella, and Cygnus, and probably even Grandfather Pollux—

Well, Regulus told his friends a lot too. Not every little thing. They were Slytherins. Most things didn’t need to be said. But a lot of their secrets were shared with loaded glances and understanding looks. Especially with Barty and Evan. They knew what it was like to have a parent that didn’t know how to actually be a parent. 

But he wouldn’t tell them this, not before confirming his theory. While he didn’t tell them about Lupin’s secret, he gave them hints and nudges until the four of them ambushed him at his chosen table in the library and laid down a stack of books on werewolves. Suffice it to say, the ‘secret’ was out by then. 

Regulus thought to himself just before he drifted off to sleep in his friend’s arms. The biggest incentive to figuring out if Sirius was an animagus wasn’t even finally having an answer and an end to his snooping. Oh no. This would give Regulus a new project. Because anything his brother did, Regulus could do better. 

And if Sirius was an animagus, then Regulus would become one too. 

Only four days later, Regulus was back in his dorm room with a newly solidified answer. There was only one book in the library on advanced transfiguration which mentioned the animagus process and suddenly everything clicked into place. Their sudden focus, the month of silence, the dog hanging around Grimmauld, their exhaustion every full moon: the three idiots were animagi. 

When Regulus told his friends, they all stared at him in disbelief. 

“That’s insane.”

Regulus glared at Barty, “So are you. Did you even read my report?”

“Why did you write an essay to tell us that your brother and his friends are animagi?” Dorcas frowned down at the several sheets of parchment where Regulus wrote down his findings in academic report format worthy of an Outstanding, if you asked him. 

“This was research,” he insisted. “Of course I had to present it as such.”

Evan shook his head, “If only the rest of the school knew what a little weirdo you were. None of them would be scared of you.”

“Regulus is plenty scary,” Pandora patted his arm. “Besides, I quite like your report. Very methodical. Highly logical. Exceptional work!”

Regulus preened as Pandora handed her copy over, pleased with the large Outstanding she’d marked the assignment with. Dorcas jotted an Exceeds Expectations on hers with a laugh, Barty drew a large troll and Evan sighed before giving him an Acceptable. 

“Only Pandora gets the brownies Miss Winnie made,” Regulus declared, referring to his favourite house elf. 

“No, wait,” Barty hurriedly scribbled a large circle on the front of his copy of Regulus’ essay. 

“As much as I love the essay,” Evan gestured grandly. “You wrote this like you expect us to do the same.”

“Well, obviously,” Regulus frowned, pointing at the title which read ‘Understanding the animagus process: a study in Gryffindor foolishness and Slytherin superiority’. “According to the book I found in the restricted section—”

“Found,” Dorcas snorted. 

“—the Animagus process can take many years. Most commonly, around three to five, although some wizards have taken decades.”

“Right.”

“Yet, by the timeline I’ve been able to piece together, my brother and his friends managed it in under two years. They started sometime in fourth year and had it finished by their sixth,” he looked at his friends, searching for the outrage he felt. “It’s absurd!”

“Potter is excellent at transfiguration,” Dorcas shrugged. “Everyone knows that. It’s the only subject he actually bothers to be good at. Bastard. I’ve never beaten him for the top spot there.”

Regulus thought that supremely missed the point, “I care very little about Potter and his supposedly masterful level of competence in one subject,” he snarked, mindful of the heat in his cheeks as he thought of James Potter and his horribly handsome face. “The number of registered animagi is incredibly low. There are only around thirty or so in the country and the youngest person to ever successfully become an animagus was Professor McGonagall when she was twenty — James Potter beat her out by four years!”

“So?”

“So,” he began furiously, “I am going to beat that record and I invite you all to join me.”

The four of them stared at him in silence. 

“You’re mad.”

“Very,” he nodded at Dorcas.

Pandora sighed, “I’m in.”

“Me too,” Barty grinned. “Count your days, Bartemius Senior. I’m going to rip your cold dead heart out.”

Evan rubbed his forehead, “You do realise the animagus process is incredibly difficult to get right. Unlike you, I actually pay attention to McGonagall. She told us last year that the process is highly regulated because people often get stuck halfway.”

Regulus wasn’t deterred, if his brother managed it then Regulus could. That wasn’t what he said though. These were Slytherins he was dealing with and they didn’t feel the same need to upstage Sirius as he did. 

“Are you saying you’re more incompetent than Peter Pettigrew?”

Evan glared, “Fine.”

Dorcas snorted, “Great, we’ve all lost it,” then she pursed her lips. “Maybe I can turn into an owl and claw McKinnon’s gorgeous brown eyes out of her head. We’ll see how easy it is to whack bludgers at me then.”

“That’s the spirit,” he summoned a new stack of papers. “Right, we have to start immediately. You’ve read the overview from my essay, now you must familiarise yourself with the whole process from start to finish. We cannot have any mistakes or setbacks if we wish to get this finished by next year.”

“Another essay?” Barty complained as one of the stacks of parchment made it to him. 

“Next year?” 

“I’m going for the record, Dorcas,” he pursed his lips, ignoring Barty and his whining. “Which, currently, is held by Potter who was sixteen years, seven months, and five days old.”

“How do you—”

“They completed their transformation on Halloween. It was the last time we had an electrical storm,” he gestured to his study. “Did you not read the graph, Barty? I plotted it perfectly. Please, see the graph.” He said testily.

“I did,” Pandora chirped, “it was very well put together.”

“Thank you, Dora,” he sniffed. She was the only one who appreciated him. “Now, as the youngest of our group, I turn sixteen, seven months, and four days on the nineteenth of March, 1978. That gives us plenty of time.”

“You said it can take decades,” Evan pointed out. 

“And James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and my idiot brother managed it in two years!” Regulus said fiercely. “I shan’t be upstaged by those imbeciles.”

“But—”

“Refer to my study, please. I have already mapped out the perfect solution,” he shoved his essay back into Evan’s arms. “If we use the intelligence those morons sorely lack, we can plan this appropriately. There are weather specific needs to the process. No good starting at a time where a storm is unlikely which they probably did. The longest part of the animagus transformation is waiting for a bloody storm and I won’t waste time by doing that.”

“We’re in late May,” Pandora frowned. “There won’t be any storms before summer.”

“Precisely,” Regulus nodded. “However, there will be plenty to come at the end of the year.”

“This says the second step is holding a leaf in your mouth for a month,” Barty squinted at the second page of his essay. “How do we do that?”

“Sticking charm,” Dorcas said. “Perfect time for it actually. We’re about to go into exam season.”

“Exactly!” Regulus nodded. “We start as soon as possible. We’re Slytherins. Nobody will think anything of us being quiet.”

“What about the potion? There’s a lot of rules here.”

“We prepare that beforehand,” Regulus answered. “All of us know Occlumency. A well-maintained mind is crucial to the animagus process.”

“It is?”

“Yes, we’ll be able to skip the first step entirely this way,” he narrowed his eyes, “I’m starting to think you didn’t read my essay.”

“I did,” Barty assured him. “Well, skimmed it.”

“Skimmed it,” he said, “well, Bartemius, if you had read my findings then you would have found a case study, conducted by the transfiguration master at Castelobruxo, who insisted that there was a direct link between animagi and accomplished occlumens.”

Evan covered his face, “If I have to thank that bastard for breaking into my mind every day for several years I’m going to go mental.”

“Think of it like this, when you accomplish the transformation, you can use your claws or teeth or venom to leave your father a withering husk on the floor.”

Evan smiled, “Glorious.”

“Everyone,” Regulus clapped his hands. “Focus. We’ll begin the early stages of the potion now. There’s no difference between doing it now or later but it’ll be best to get it ready earlier. Then we stick a mandrake leaf in our mouths. Use the month of silence to strengthen your Occulmency shields. Over the summer, you’ll have to stick to the incantation schedule: every dawn and every dusk.”

“This sounds hard.”

Regulus smacked Barty with his essay, “Never admit defeat. We shan’t be outdone by a bunch of foolhardy Gryffindors. Anything they can do, we can do better and in style.”

Pandora hummed, “I’m excited. Give me the report back, I’m going to write this down in my diary so I don’t forget.”

“Unnecessary.” He said even as he handed it back to her. Waving his wand, he summoned the five checklists he’d made with his favourite stationery set. “A step-by-step guide for you to score out as we progress through the stages.”

Dorcas snickered, “You are so cute.”

“Miss Meadowes.”

“Sorry, Professor.”

Barty laughed, “Alright. Thanks, Reg. We’ll get started on this right away. Have you already procured the—”

Regulus held the small cloth pouch filled with Mandrake leaves. “They have to be plucked fresh but there is a workaround. So long as they are kept in a stasis pouch, they will not deteriorate and will keep their freshness. The Master at Castelobruxo said she filled her purse with them while she tested different sticking charms on her subjects and the efficacy of the leaves was not affected.”

“Now?” Evan asked, raising a leaf out of the bag. 

To demonstrate, Regulus held his own leaf up and tapped one side with his wand while reciting the incantation for a semi-permanent sticking charm. As he placed it against the roof of his mouth, he grimaced at the taste. Flicking his wand, words appeared to dictate his thoughts: “The taste is foul but it will lessen over the next week. Food will be rather bland and we have to avoid acidic foods such as tomatoes or vinegar altogether. Other than that, everything is now in motion.”

His friends nodded. One by one, they placed the mandrake leaves in their mouths and he couldn’t help but grin at them. They were doing it. They would beat Sirius and Pettigrew and Potter. They would become animagi together. 

While stuck unable to speak for a month, Regulus decided to put his time to good use. When he wasn’t studying for his upcoming end of year exams, he was keeping a close eye on his brother. More specifically, his brother’s friends. 

He was quite confident that Sirius was a dog. So, what were Potter and Pettigrew? After researching animagi and the magic of the animagus process, he concluded that the animal one became was heavily influenced by their own personality. Take Sirius: lively, loyal, intelligent yet a little foolhardy at times. There were few other animals that could adequately represent Sirius Black, it was only an ironic bonus that his name almost literally meant black dog. 

However, this begged the question: what animals could embody James Potter and Peter Pettigrew? A peacock for Potter, perhaps. Although that was more Lucius Malfoy’s thing. A fish for Pettigrew? No, that would be impractical when dealing with a werewolf. Although, the imagery was amusing. Perhaps Potter carried him around in a bowl while he glubbed and swam in circles. Or maybe Potter was something equally useless and embarrassing. Oh, how Regulus would laugh if Potter was something like a tortoise, although it wouldn’t fit him at all. Potter was even more energetic than Sirius. Another dog, maybe? It would match with them supposedly being brothers.

He tried to figure it out by stalking them but that didn’t reveal much more than what he already knew. See, they were usually smart enough not to transform around anyone. However, Regulus did confirm that Sirius was a dog. As he exited the pitch after a short fly to distract himself from agonising over his upcoming charms exam, he saw the big black hound from Islington bounding around the boundary of the forest. He stared at the dog, confused for all of three seconds, before he saw Potter and Lupin laughing, throwing various objects and cheering when the dog ran off to chase them. 

“Good boy, Padfoot!” Potter praised, laughing as the dog attempted to tackle him to the ground. “Go fetch!”

“Leave him alone, Prongs,” Lupin rolled his eyes, ruffling the dog's fur and brushing some twigs from the tufts around his ears. 

A mouse must have caught the dog’s attention, because the dog abruptly turned and chased a small grey lump skirting across the grass. 

“No, Padfoot! Bad boy!” Potter tried. “Bloody— Why is he so bad at ignoring his instincts?”

Animal instincts.

Intrigued, Regulus stared at the dog. He’d read first hand accounts from various animagi who described the sharp pull of an animal’s instincts. Harder to ignore than the human fight or flight as animals were less susceptible to logic. They did not operate on reason. They trusted their instincts implicitly because they had to if they hoped to survive.  

Regulus had assumed that Sirius was merely playing along, acting as a big dumb dog. But what if it was more than that? The passage in his book by transfiguration legend Ioana Benescu detailed her account after turning into a swan where she felt the urge to spread her arms open even as a human, an attempt at showing her wings to fend off prey. If Sirius was still new to being an animagus, that pull would be very difficult to ignore. The book suggested it took several months of regular transformations before one could begin to ignore the urge. 

He only hoped he didn’t turn into something strange. Sirius was a dog. As far as he knew, dogs had some very strange behaviours like scent marking or other equally unpleasant habits. 

As Regulus went back towards the castle, he was suddenly knocked flat on his back by the very mutt he’d been thinking about. 

“Oh bloody fucking—” he heard Potter shouting as the dog began to bark happily at seeing Regulus. He stared up at the dog as it attempted to drown him with saliva from sloppy licks to his face. Brother or not, Regulus despised slobber; he grimaced and shoved the beast away. How utterly repugnant. “Oh shit. Re— Reg— Regulus!” Potter suddenly tripped over, tumbling down like he’d been whacked over the head with a beater’s bat. How he managed to fall over while standing stationary was beyond him, further proof that James Potter was an idiot, clearly. 

A terribly fit, awfully handsome, idiot  

From the direction Potter came in, Remus Lupin appeared, a look of amusement and confusion on his face as he glanced between a flustered Potter and a giddy Sirius. Or, well, the giddy mutt slobbering on Regulus’ fine robes. 

“Lupin. Get this filthy creature away from me before I turn it into a rug.” The writing spell didn’t quite encapsulate his carefully tailored disdain but his dark glare did the trick. 

The dog whined, Lupin clamped a hand on Sirius’— no, Padfoot’s scruff and heaved him away (thinking of his brother as the dog was too strange even for him). Padfoot continued to pout before sniffing Lupin and barking excitedly, nudging against him for attention. 

Regulus stood as he dusted himself off, “If that thing comes anywhere near me again I will make good on my promise,” he looked down at Potter imperiously. The idiot was still sprawled out on the floor looking like he’d been hexed. “Close your mouth, Potter, you look even more moronic than you usually do.”

With that, he walked away, the words slowly disappearing in the air behind him. Though, not before glimpsing the small plump creature in Lupin’s pocket. Grey. Round. 

A rodent?

Wormtail. 

Regulus grinned victoriously as he rounded the corner. Safely hidden from view, he paused as he thought about those stupid nicknames. Everyone knew them. The four idiots had been using Moony pretty frequently ever since second year, although the other three only began this past school year. Moony was the most ridiculous although it was apt, and he supposed dogs did have padded feet, and rodent tails did have a specific look to them… 

What did Prongs mean?

The rest of the year went exactly according to plan. They had no trouble with the leaves in their mouths and nobody thought much about their silence. They ended up pretending Pandora lost her voice in a potions mishap and they were all staying silent in solidarity. Madam Pomfrey tried to bring Pandora into the hospital wing but his friend was very crafty. She spun some story about being too stressed with exams and miscalculating while brewing a larynx relaxer potion which turned her expected twenty-eight minutes of forced silence to twenty-eight days. Madam Pomfrey seemed to buy it. 

After the month was up, they added their leaves to their potions and stowed the vials with their initials labelled on the glass. They needed a quiet, dark place to store the potion and Regulus decided to use the Astronomy Tower. He initially wanted to use their dorm room but by next year they would be in a new dorm and he didn’t fancy sneaking into the younger years’ dorm room. Besides, the elves always completely sanitised the dorms between year groups. Any items left behind would either be lost forever or sent to lost and found which would disturb the process. 

Summer went by a treat. As soon as he returned to London, he spelled his checklist to be invisible and marked every dawn and dusk on his calendar as he completed the next steps. Reciting Amato Animo Animato Animagus every morning and night was actually rather easy. His sleeping schedule was always dreadful at Grimmauld due to extreme anxiety, so it was easy to complete the process without fail. Luckily, so did all of his friends. 

When they returned to Hogwarts, they checked on their potions the moment they were free from the welcome dinner. Their potions managed to stay undisturbed in the darkest corner of the closet in the Astronomy Tower over summer — a true stroke of luck. They all shared triumphant smiles. One step left. 

“Alright,” Regulus said, blazing through his dorm room clutching a large stack of books, loose sheets of parchment, and rolled up scrolls. “According to muggle and magical weather predictions, a lightning storm will come next week.”

Regulus flicked his wand. His calendar marked the date of the expected lightning storm: October 24th 1977. Within a week, that storm would come, and the past year of work would all be worth it. 

Dorcas perked up from where she was laying on Barty’s bed. Barty hummed from where Pandora was painting his nails on the floor and Evan grunted from his spot snuggled under his duvet. 

“Any ideas on what you’ll be?” Regulus asked, summoning his notebook and positioning his quill. 

Barty waved a free hand, “I’ve seen glimpses, mainly when I practise Occlumency.”

“Good,” he praised, “and?”

“I’m something smaller than me, that’s the most I can figure out. But I think I have claws.”

“Hm,” Regulus added that into his notes tracking their progress. So far they knew Pandora could fly, Dorcas was rather large, and Regulus was quite small. Barty had been having the most trouble envisioning himself, largely because he struggled with Occlumency the most. His brain was too scattered and manic, he wasn’t good at organising his thoughts into something resembling calm. Meanwhile, Evan was convinced he was some magical beast none of them had ever heard of because he could not decipher his shape at all. He described it as a large, bird-like creature with sharp claws and a strange bump on its head. Even Pandora, with her extensive knowledge of creatures, was stumped. 

“I’ve got a beak,” Pandora said, “although, I suppose that was a given. I wonder what bird I am.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m some sort of apex predator,” Dorcas pursed her lips. “I’ve heard growling a lot. Like a wildcat.”

“Wicked,” Barty breathed. “Fancy mauling my dad for me?”

“Mine too,” Evan begged. 

Dorcas snorted, “Sure. What about you, Reg?”

Regulus’ jaw clenched. Admittedly, he had learned something extra about his form but he didn’t know what to make of it. He was small and growled a lot. At first he thought he was a cat, but he caught a glimpse of his front feet and they were nothing like cat paws. Regulus started investigating by perusing different books on mammals but he couldn’t figure it out. The hazy glimpses from his Occlumency practise weren’t enough. 

“Nothing more,” he shrugged, only somewhat lying. “Time for another group session I think. We need to make sure we’re prepared.”

“We’re plenty prepared,” Barty complained. “None of us are aquatic so no risk of suffocating due to transforming in an inadequate environment. We’ve done all we can. Even seeing the tiniest sliver of your form is impressive. We’re already on track to beat the four idiots, there’s no rush.”

Regulus worried his lip, “What about the schedule? Has everyone read the schedule?”

“At the first strike of lightning, we drop everything and run to the Astronomy Tower where our potion is kept,” Evan sighed loudly. 

“If we’re in a lesson when the lightning strikes, we pretend we have a fear of lightning,” Dorcas continued, boredly flipping through a magazine. 

“And if there’s an Astronomy lesson happening, or if Sinistra is in the classroom, we create a distraction with the fireworks you procured from Diagon Alley over the summer,” Barty said. 

“Then, once the five of us are together, we take our potions and it’s done!” Pandora finished happily. “Can’t wait. Flying on a broom is one thing but it’s going to be fantastic flying as a bird, I can feel it.”

Admittedly, Regulus knew he’d drilled the schedule into their heads but he was still stressed. He needed to get this right. Starting the process all over again was not an option and after this storm, they would have to throw out their potions and try again. He hated how finicky magic was. The moment the first bolt struck, the potion would be ready. If they didn’t drink it by the time the storm ended, the potion would turn into a useless sludge — then they would be right back at square one. 

Regulus couldn’t risk that. He was on track to be the youngest animagus in history, beating James Potter by five months, if Regulus’ calculations were correct. Which they were. Because they always were. 

Sighing, Regulus slumped on Evan’s bed and graciously allowed him to sprawl over him. Napping with Evan was a good distraction and he definitely needed a distraction. Thoughts of Potter were dangerous. If he thought about James Potter and his dastardly brain and incredible transfiguration skills, he would think of his beautiful brown eyes and smooth dark brown skin and charming smile and enormously kind heart and adorable laugh and plump lips and long legs and strong arms—

No. Dangerous thoughts. 

One week later, almost as predicted, lightning struck. 

The second the bolt lashed through the skies, Regulus jerked up and out of his sleep. The storm wasn’t supposed to hit for at least another few hours and he’d set an alarm to wake him before then. 

The storm was early. 

Throwing back his curtains, he grinned, searching through the dim light of his bedroom for his friends. Evan was grumbling as he rolled out of bed while Barty leaped to his feet like an energetic beagle going for a run. 

Without another word, Barty summoned their robes while Evan spelled their shoes on and then they were off towards the common room where Dorcas was stumbling out of the girls hallway towards them with bleary eyes. Thankfully, they found Pandora waiting for them at the base of the Astronomy Tower and with giddy laughter the five of them ascended the tower. 

Evan carefully removed their potions vials and they all raised their own potions to their lips. The tower was large enough that the five of them should be able to fit comfortably in their animagus forms. Regulus and Pandora were small, and Dorcas and Evan were much larger, while Barty was somewhere in the middle. The environment was perfect — it would have been a nightmare if one of them were aquatic or too large to fit on the Astronomy Tower.

With a final nod, they all swallowed down their potions. Ideally, they would take it in turns, but he didn’t want to risk the storm ending earlier than expected. Predictably, the potion tasted vile. It was thick and slimy with a strange film that stuck to the roof of his mouth and slid down his throat as if intending to leave a mark. He grimaced as he dropped the empty crystal glass back into the box and moved back. The five of them stood in a very loose circle with Pandora and Evan closest to the railing as they both saw beaks and wings in their Occlumency practice sessions.  

“Amato Animo Animato Animagus,” they all called in sync with their wands pressed to the tips of their chests. His bag stayed in the corner of the room where he quickly stowed all their wands. Merlin forbid one of them ended up snapping them, the first transformation was supposed to be the hardest to fight through their instincts (although it was different for everyone) which was why it was suggested to have an accomplished animagus guiding them through the process lest they be lost to their nature forever. They didn’t have that option, so Regulus made sure they’d all practised their Occlumency religiously to strengthen their minds. 

A phantom flutter in his chest began to beat wildly through his ribcage. Almost in sync, they all gasped and clutched at their hearts as the heartbeat of their animagus forms appeared. The heart beating in his chest was rapid. He held his palm over the feeling as it moved towards the centre of his chest. The heartbeat of his animagus form was merging with his human body, combining them, forever entwining them. 

Lightning struck the sky above the tower, illuminating the grey stone with vibrant blue light, and suddenly Regulus was hunched over with his hands shrinking, his body contorting and his gums burning. 

When he looked up, the only other notable difference was the sudden influx of rain beating down on the tower. His friends were all looking at him in complete shock. Awed, he saw Pandora open her mouth before she gasped and a small white bird took her place. She squealed and squawked for a moment, tapping her claws against the stone floor in confusion as she attempted to regain her balance. 

Next was Dorcas, she threw her body into a forward roll and morphed smoothly into a dark creature with a long, muscular body. Right after her, Evan turned into the most bizarre creature he’d ever seen in his life. Lastly, Barty growled and appeared on all fours with a black and tan spotty coat. 

Glancing around the room, Regulus felt a vicious sense of satisfaction wash over him. 

Take that James Potter. 

“Right,” Regulus began as he raised a book. “I’ve found your form, Evan.” 

Evan brightened from his spot on the floor of their dorm, “Really?”

Regulus watched all of his friends turn to him in intrigue. 

“The cassowary is both an aggressive and highly capable animal. Solitary by nature, the cassowary is feared more than they are respected, however one look at their deadly claws shows why they should be treated with caution. With an average height of six feet, their impressive size and keen intelligence makes them a deadly opponent for most animals, including humans. The kick delivered by a cassowary is powerful enough to break bones and even kill in some cases. They are most often found in dense forests and can be very difficult to spot which suits them well. Although they are a sight to behold and capable of killing in one blow, the cassowary is notoriously shy and will only attack when threatened.” Regulus shook his head, “Then it goes on to discuss mating habits and how very few people have been able to study them due to their solitary nature and killer claws.”

“A bloody cassowary,” Evan breathed. “I’ve never even heard of them.”

Pandora hummed from where she was doodling a drawing of Evan’s new form. Of all of them, Evan’s form was the most bizarre, mainly because none of them knew what in Salazar’s name he was. It took a while of scouring through animal textbooks to find the right one. A large, flightless bird: the cassowary. 

Barty was vibrating in his excitement, “This is wicked. Ev, you can kill your dad so easily now!”

Evan’s eyes lit up. 

“Do me next,” Pandora instructed. Regulus flicked through the book on birds and found the correct page, taking in the beautiful white bird depicted next to a large block of text. 

“The dove has been a rather iconic symbol throughout history. Most notably, the Greek Goddess, Aphrodite, held the dove as her sacred animal. Embodying beauty, empathy, optimism, and peace, the dove is a most precious creature that is seen as a good omen across history. With their unmistakable white plumage, the dove rarely ranges in size and always maintains a humble presence of refined beauty. Doves are surprisingly low maintenance and require little special care. They are smart and social, often found napping, flirting, or basking in the sun. Freedom is most essential to the dove and any attempt at keeping them caged is seen to be a symbol of bad luck; therefore, wizards should caution against attempting to own them as pets even though they are resplendent creatures to behold,” Regulus raised an eyebrow at Pandora. “Fitting?”

“Just so,” Pandora grinned widely before slipping seamlessly into her plump white dove form. She had the least trouble switching between her human and animal form. Likely because the dove so perfectly embodied her free spirit. As the book said, Pandora was optimistic, empathetic, and highly valued her freedom. Human or animal, it didn’t matter to her. 

Dorcas hummed, “Agreed. What about mine, Reg?”

Regulus set the book on birds aside and scanned the contents list of the thick tome on apex predators. 

“The panther, or black panther, is not actually the name of a specific animal. Rather, the term panther refers to colour variants of some jaguars, leopards, and occasionally mountain lions. The black leopard is a strong and flexible animal with impressive balance and agility. Black leopards are regarded as incredible hunters with a particularly strong capability for stealth, especially in shadowed environments as their dark coat allows them to stay concealed in the night. With sharp teeth and claws, this big cat is easily able to fell their chosen prey which is usually deer, boar, and wild dogs. Full of energy and power, the leopard is surprisingly elusive which is often chalked up to their more shy nature. Leopards are very honest and courage is important to them as they are purposeful animals. Some other traits of these majestic animals include determination, a strong will, and a highly competitive nature.”

“Ding ding,” Dorcas laughed, “Did you hear that, Barty? Panthers eat wild dogs,” she grinned menacingly. 

Barty’s jaw dropped, “Read mine!” He demanded. 

Regulus hid a smirk as he flicked to the right page, “The hyena has a very bad reputation— Oh, not off to a good start there.”

Evan and Dorcas laughed, Pandora fluttered around Barty’s head mockingly. Barty groaned and laid flat on his bed. 

“Thought to be an ill-omen across cultures, the hyena is often seen as a good for nothing scavenger and a bully. However, this is not the case. Hyenas are excellent hunters in their own right with their keen intelligence and ability to take full advantage of a situation. A partially consumed animal ripe for the taking saves them much needed energy, thus hyenas are far more clever than they are given credit for. Because of their scavenging nature, they often travel in packs which allows them to take on larger prey to steal their food. When hunting, hyenas usually do this alone or in much smaller packs of around three to five. Hyenas are very social animals but only work efficiently with their chosen pack. They are highly protective and defensive creatures and have been known to attack humans at will and do consume human flesh, so err on the side of caution when around these wily creatures.”

Barty frowned, “Hm, I suppose that’s right. I don’t know how I feel about eating people but I wouldn’t mind mauling my dad.”

“We get it, you want him dead,” Dorcas smirked. “What are you, Reg? Some sort of badger, I’d suspect.”

“He is very hardworking,” Pandora commented after turning back into her human form and sprawling on top of Dorcas who huffed. 

“He doesn’t look like a regular badger,” Evan commented from where he was perusing a textbook. “I think he’s some sort of— Ah! Here,” he turned the page, showing them a large image of a small creature. “The honey badger.”

“Aw, how cute,” Pandora cooed. 

Dorcas snickered, “Are you as sweet as honey, Reg?”

“Ah, ah,” Barty tutted. “You’re forgetting he’s a loyal bastard. Of course he’s some sort of badger.”

“Not just any badger,” Evan sounded strange, eyes skimming the pages. “The honey badger is regarded as the most fearless animal in the world. Famous for its strength, resilience, and most of all, its ferocity. This diminutive creature is known to savagely attack all manner of animals, including humans, though this is generally only when provoked. They will also attack pythons, hyenas, leopards, and even lions, despite being only a fraction of their body size.” Evan shook his head, as stunned as Regulus felt, “The honey badger has an almost reckless level of determination. Relentless and fearless, the honey badger is known for surviving almost anything. While they have strong claws and teeth, the defensive capabilities of this animal is its greatest strength. Due to their thick skin, honey badgers can endure bee stings, porcupine quills, scorpion attacks, and even bites from much larger animals. The stretchy quality of their skin also allows them to fight back even while clamped in the jaws of another animal, giving credibility to the notion that this badger will not go down without a fight. Honey badgers are curious and highly adaptable, often thought to be one of the greatest innovators in the animal kingdom. While they can live in groups, they usually work alone and prefer to follow their own lead.”

“Well, blimey, that does sound like Reg,” Barty said, stunned. “You’re the most stubborn and determined little beast I’ve ever met. They go after lions?”

Evan nodded slowly, “They fight crocodiles too. This says they eat scorpions for lunch even when they’re being attacked by them. Bloody hell.”

“Scorpions? Lions? Pythons?” Pandora giggled, “Regulus is rather wilful. He’ll fight anyone if he finds a good enough reason.”

Regulus’ face burned, “Let’s not pretend I’m some mindless, violent beast. Honey badgers are curious, intelligent, and adaptable. All exceptional qualities.”

“They also happen to love menacing every animal they come across,” Dorcas laughed as she opened a book to show a tiny honey badger in a fight with two lions. “The caption says the badger somehow won and the lions ran off with their tails between their legs. It seems they survive on pure endurance and spite.”

Barty howled with laughter, “Reggie! Look, it’s so you!”

“Shut up,” Regulus rubbed his ruddy cheeks in embarrassment. His form was wicked but Circe his friends were annoying. “You eat people, Barty. Worry about yourself.”

“I’ll happily eat you,” Barty purred. 

“Piss off,” Regulus fanned his burning face. “You’re all dreadful. And to think, I helped you all learn a valuable skill purely out of the goodness of my heart.” Well, that was actually born out of a need to spite his brother and his friends, so perhaps the book was right about him. 

Barty shuffled over and pecked his cheek, “Thank you, sweetness. I’m going to have so much fun ripping my father’s throat out and it’s all thanks to you!”

Regulus huffed as his friends all hugged him, each thanking him and congratulating him in turn. He tried to pretend their affection didn’t comfort him but he quite clearly failed. Even when Pandora mockingly ruffled his hair he couldn’t help but lean into her. 

“Youngest animagus in the world at only sixteen!” Dorcas said. “Calls for a celebration!”

“Drinks!” Barty cried. 

“I’ll go to the kitchens,” Evan offered, shuffling off the edge of the bed. 

“Hold on, I’ll come too,” Pandora pecked Regulus’ forehead and hopped off the bed. “I’ve been tasked with arranging Dorcas’ birthday cake this year and I’ve finally finished sketching my design!”

Dorcas laughed, “Think you were supposed to keep that a secret, dove.”

Pandora kissed her directly on the nose, “You’re going to love it.”

Dorcas shook her head as Barty yelled at their retreating backs to bring back some snacks. They started teasing and coddling him again the moment the door closed but Regulus didn’t care. He loved his friends endlessly. Besides, he’d managed to achieve the animagus process well within his self-appointed time frame. Perhaps he did deserve to let loose and celebrate. 

For the following few days, every time Regulus saw his brother or any of his idiot friends, he couldn’t help but smirk. They thought they were so clever, harbouring a werewolf, hiding their animagus forms. Little did they know he’d beaten them in half the time. 

His friends didn’t help. The five of them couldn’t stop trading knowing looks and making suggestive remarks about Pandora flying away or Barty being feral. Barty himself didn’t help. Apparently his animal instincts were much like that of a regular dog and he’d become incredibly possessive and territorial, draping himself over them and even licking Regulus’ neck one time. He didn’t even want to imagine what he did to Evan — he’d seen the bite marks on his chest one day after quidditch practice, that was enough for him. 

Regulus didn’t know how his animal instincts would manifest. Unlike all of his other friends who transformed every few hours in the safety of the dorms, Regulus had yet to do so. He insisted it was because he was documenting their progress (which he was in his carefully concealed journal) but his friends weren’t convinced. 

“Enough is enough,” Pandora declared. “You are going to transform right this second.”

Regulus huffed and looked around pointedly. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the library.”

“And you’re small enough to hide under the desk,” Barty threw a quill at him. 

“I’ll shove you in my bag if someone comes near us,” Dorcas said, scribbling notes for her potions essay.  

Scoffing, Regulus folded his arms. “I am not going to subject myself to such—”

Hands slammed either side of him from behind and Regulus whirled around, a snarl on his lips and his wand in hand. His brother grinned down at him for all of three seconds before he was tackled to the ground by a furious Barty. 

“Fuck,” Dorcas hissed as she grabbed Barty with Evan’s help and yanked him back. 

“What the bloody hell—” Lupin appeared with Potter and Pettigrew by his side. Regulus cursed himself for blushing as Potter’s pretty brown eyes settled on him. 

“That nutter attacked me!”

“You threatened Reggie!”

“When?” Sirius spluttered. He turned to Regulus, “Control your dog or I will.”

Barty bared his teeth, “I’d love to watch you to try, Black.” 

Sirius’ own lip curled into a snarl and only Lupin grabbing his shoulder stopped him from drawing his wand. 

“Padfoot,” Lupin said firmly. 

“Was there a reason for you all interrupting us?” Pandora asked coolly. Regulus felt Dorcas slip her hand into his comfortingly. Evan murmured something to Barty who angled himself in front of Regulus. His friends were so protective over him for some reason. He would have expected they would band around Pandora, who never shied away from being her authentic self, or Evan whose father treated him abysmally. Instead, they seemed to think it was Regulus who was most in need of support. Secretly, he thought they had the right idea — he didn’t know where he would be without them. 

Eyes hard, Sirius frowned at him, “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, “Do explain.”

“Like that,” he waved a hand, “all smug and self-satisfied. Like Bella when she grated coal over Malfoy’s mashed potatoes.”

Both of them traded a lightly amused look at the memory before remembering their tumultuous relationship. They weren’t at odds, not anymore, but they were still making amends after several years of frosty interactions.

Regulus shrugged, “I have no idea what you mean. I’m simply amused by how foolish you look at all times.”

“You little shit,” Sirius said. “You’re up to something, and I’m going to figure it out.”

Now Regulus really couldn’t stop himself from smirking, “Oh Sirius, you prove every day why that charlatan from Italy recognised you as a court jester in your past life.”

Sirius’ face went red as Pettigrew snorted in amusement. “What about you, huh? She said you were a disgraced king!”

“I do look good with a crown,” he shrugged. 

Potter made a strangled noise which caught his attention. His brown eyes were locked on where Regulus’ shirt collar had opened during the scuffle, exposing more of his pale throat than usual. 

“You’re such a little twat,” said Sirius. “I’m going to find out what you’re up to and ruin whatever scheme you’ve cooked up.”

“Impossible.”

“I’m smarter than you think I am.”

“You are exactly as stupid as I know you to be,” he countered. “There is no scheme, and if there were, it would be irreversible at this point,” he teased with a careless shrug. “Good day, Sirius. Come along.”

His friends followed after him dutifully. Regulus made sure to brush past Potter purely for his own satisfaction and he was immensely pleased at the soft hitching of his breath as their eyes met. 

Sirius cursed at him in French as they rounded the corner. Regulus ended up leaning against Dorcas in the hallway as they snickered to themselves. It was a good thing Evan’s reflexes were so fast, he had to catch a giggling Pandora from falling down the stairs. 

Oh Sirius, he really was more intelligent than Regulus gave him credit for. Still, he wasn’t smarter than Regulus, so what did it matter?

Although his brother's insistence that he would find out Regulus’ secret should have deterred him from transforming, it ended up having the opposite effect. He should have known — Regulus loved to spite his brother. If Sirius wanted to figure him out, Regulus would go out of his way to enjoy his animagus form twice as much. 

It was this vindictive way of living which brought him to the middle of the forest. Dorcas and Pandora were having a girls night in the latter’s dorm, while Barty and Evan were having obnoxiously loud relations in their shared dorm, which meant Regulus needed to be out of his room for a few hours. 

Perfect time to run about in his animagus form, he decided. 

According to the books, honey badgers had poor eyesight and relied predominantly on their sense of smell. Regulus found his eyesight wasn’t terrible but he did notice an enhanced ability to see in the dark as a honey badger. There were also his new claws which were excellent for digging, and he found himself clawing at the dirt as he sniffed around the forest, getting his bearings. 

Perhaps he should have paid more attention to the lunar calendar sitting on his desk, as the sudden howl breaking through the cool night air had his head snapping up. 

Through the gaps in the canopy above him, he saw a glimpse of the moon, bulbous and bright.

A full moon. Merde. 

Before he could make a plan to hide out somewhere or run back to the castle, heavy footsteps thumped towards him and he had just enough time to brace himself before a large werewolf leaped over him. The werewolf sniffed around, yellow eyes darting back and forth before settling on Regulus. 

As a human, he would have forced himself to remain calm, let his mind go blank, and used every dark spell from Mother’s private lessons. 

As a honey badger, his first thought was: I can take him. 

Absurd. Ridiculous. Yet Regulus launched himself at the werewolf, teeth gnashing and body trembling as he growled and swiped and snapped. 

Understandably, the werewolf was baffled. 

The tiny shred of logic within Regulus despaired over his animal instincts. Of all the times to come forth, it had to be when he was in a standoff with one of the top predators among magical creatures. Only creatures such as dragons or basilisks could topple a werewolf. 

Shocked, the werewolf actually took a step back as Regulus tried to clamp down on one of its thick legs. He was still attempting to get a bite or two in when a yapping bark from behind him distracted the werewolf enough that he manage to actually nip it on the paw. 

The werewolf tried to claw at him but Regulus simply rolled out of the way and tried to get another hit in. Before either of them could make a move, the dog (Padfoot) threw himself at the werewolf (Moony) along with an absolutely enormous stag that had long, pointed antlers branching out from its head.

Prongs. 

Potter.

The thought was affirmed when the stag stood in front of Regulus stubbornly, antlers poised to ward off Moony with too much reckless bravery to be a real deer. The plump grey rat squeaking on its back was the icing on the cake. Padfoot barked several times, nudging at Moony and nipping at his tail. Moony whirled around and swiped at him, giving Regulus the chance to dart between Prongs’ long legs where he then clamped his teeth around Moony’s tail. 

Moony howled. Regulus growled happily as the werewolf bolted with Regulus still attached to his tail. 

The three animals behind them must have been completely blindsided as Regulus hitched a ride on Moony. He let go at a certain point, proud of himself. Even as Moony turned around to engulf him in its wide mouth, Regulus kept fighting and swung himself around in Moony’s jaws to batter his face. Moony whimpered and let him go. 

Rolling over, Regulus glimpsed the dog, deer, and rat watching them from the sidelines, completely stupefied. 

That pretty much summed up the rest of the night. Regulus and Moony fought until Moony got tired and ended up falling asleep directly on top of Regulus. He huffed. Fine. At least Moony was warm. 

“Where were you last night?”

Regulus blinked at his friends innocently, “Me?”

Evan’s eyes narrowed, “You weren’t in the common room like you said you’d be.”

“I’m eating,” he pointedly waved his fork. “This is breakfast. Rather vital for optimum human function—”

“Shut it,” Barty straddled the bench to glare at him. Regulus tilted his head up. The bastard always used the head of height he held over him during times like these. The joke was on him, everyone was taller than Regulus, including his tyrannical mother, and nobody in Hogwarts could ever instil fear in him the way she did. 

“Spill,” Dorcas glared across the table. Pandora frowned at him deeply, her blue and bronze tie standing out amongst the sea of green and silver at the Slytherin table. 

Regulus lifted one shoulder, “Library.”

“Liar.”

“Is that so?”

“You never sleep in the library,” said Evan. “Which means even if you were there until late, you must have left and slept elsewhere. So, where did you go?”

“The forest.” 

“Regulus—”

“You asked for the truth,” he said, knowing they wouldn’t believe him. 

Dorcas rolled her eyes, “Don’t think you’re off the hook, we will be coming back to this later. Right now, I’m too hungry to argue.”

Pleased with himself, Regulus smiled as he ate his breakfast. Glancing over her shoulder, he watched as an intensely focused Lupin tried to move forward with all three of his friends converging on him, speaking in hurried whispers while gesturing frantically. 

A smirk tugged at his lips. 

Later that day, Regulus couldn’t help but eavesdrop on his brother. Slipping into his honey badger form, he climbed between a stack of books and the wall, ears readily available as the Gryffindors came to their usual table in the far corner near the window. 

“—telling you for the fifth time, Moony! That’s exactly what happened!” Sirius dropped into a seat, throwing his hands up. 

“Right, I heard you, but that simply doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s true,” Pettigrew said. “Even I saw it. No idea what it was but it was beating the tar out of Moony.”

Lupin scoffed, “Nothing can beat up a werewolf.”

“Dragon could,” said Potter, unknowingly mirroring Regulus’ thoughts. “Or a basilisk. Or a nundu.”

“I could take a nundu,” Lupin mumbled, flipping through a book. That annoying little voice in Regulus’ head wondered if he could take on a nundu before immediately discarding the thought. Honey badgers were so stupidly reckless and he was nothing of the sort. “I haven’t found any animal in any book that sounds like what you were talking about. A badger, only smaller, and without the striped face, oh and a different facial structure.”

“It has to be in one of the books,” Sirius insisted. “We all saw it!”

“I’m surprised you’re even standing,” Pettigrew said as he flipped through a book. 

Lupin hummed, “For some reason I feel alright. Knackered, obviously. I’d like a nice warm bath to soothe the aching. But there’s no new cuts and I’m not as bruised as I usually am.”

“It’s that beast!” Sirius boomed. “Moony didn’t get a chance to bite himself once because he was too busy scrapping with that— that thing!”

Rude. Regulus was a magnificent animal, the peak of evolution. 

“Salazar’s balls!” Pettigrew gasped. “I’ve found it!”

There was a clattering noise. Pettigrew cursed his brother’s name. Sirius cleared his throat obnoxiously loudly, “The honey badger! Known as the world’s most fearless animal—” he continued to read the long passage Evan read to him when they first discovered what his form was. Regulus preened in delight as they gasped and marvelled as his form. 

“Let me see that,” Lupin stuttered. “This says they’re native to areas of Asia and Africa as they are usually drawn to dry climates. Why would one be in the Forbidden Forest?”

“Fuck if I know,” said Sirius. “But this is definitely it. Look, Prongs, that’s it, right?”

“Yeah,” Potter answered. “Although it had different markings on its back. Like little stars.”

Sirius made an impatient noise, “Who cares about that? See, Moony? You were battered by this thing: a honey badger.”

“Beaten up by an animal that weighs about seven kilos,” Potter snickered. 

“Don’t feel too bad,” Sirius said. “You were very brave.”

Pettigrew laughed loudly as Lupin scoffed, “Piss off, I did not get beat up! If that thing really was in the forest then someone needs to tell Dumbledore. It’ll probably eat a student next.”

“Or wallop an acromantula and send the centaurs running,” Pettigrew howled. The others laughed too, Lupin not included. Regulus sniffed, he was not a mindless hellion.

“Aw, is the big bad Moony scared of a little badger?”

“Do one, Prongs. As if that thing wouldn’t eat you for dinner.”

“Oi!”

Regulus had heard enough. After shuffling down the row of shelves, he transformed back and hurried out of the library, a very smug smile on his face. 

“Hello, honey.”

Startled, Regulus pivoted on one foot and immediately glared at the unfairly beautiful idiot opposite him. 

“Potter.”

James Potter grinned that annoyingly charming smile at him from across the astronomy tower. “Regulus.”

“Wonderful, now that introductions are out of the way, you can leave,” Regulus nodded towards the stairs behind him. “Clearly, this space is occupied.”

“Didn’t know you had a claim to the tower.”

“Well, I do. Now leave.”

“No.”

“You’re intruding.”

“This is a public space,” James grinned. “Besides, you’re out of bounds.”

“As are you. At least I’m a prefect, what is your excuse?”

“Did you forget? I’m Head Boy this year.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, since you rarely show up for meetings it’s easy to forget.”

Potter grinned, “I’m Captain of the quidditch team which takes up more of my time. McGonagall says as long as I attend every other month then it’s fine. Besides, Lily is more than capable and she practically hexed my fingers off for trying to alter her patrolling schedules.”

“Why were you trying to ruin the schedules?” Regulus snapped. “Lily and I worked on those together!”

Potter’s grin softened, “Just wanted to inspire more inter-house patrols, that’s all.”

Folding his arms, Regulus scoffed, “In any case, Dumbledore has clearly gone senile to give you any authority in this place.”

“I’d say I’m plenty qualified. Nobody knows this castle better than me. I can find anyone no matter where they’re hiding,” his eyes sparkled as he took a step forward. They were barely an arm’s length apart. “Including you.”

“You couldn’t find the business end of your broom unless you were given instruction.”

“Ouch. I’ll have you know I’m plenty talented with my broomstick.”

“Is that why Gryffindor lost their last match?”

“A fluke.”

“Or their chaser’s inability to catch the quaffle even when it’s handed to them. Clearly all that time spent skipping meetings to practise has been wasted.”

“I’m great at catching things.”

“Oh, please. You couldn’t catch an immobilised pixie.”

James reached out, grasping his tie. “Caught you.”

His face warmed. He slapped Potter’s hand away and stepped back until he was flat against the railing. “Some people do not wish to be caught.”

“But not you,” James looked down at him, something heavy in his gaze. 

“I’m a person, not a snitch.”

“No, you’re a star.”

Regulus’ cheeks were probably bright red. He cursed his pale skin. “Precisely. We’re impossible to catch.”

“Yet always visible,” said James. “Always waiting to be seen. To be gazed upon.”

Regulus turned away, looking out over the railing, “Flowery words, Potter.”

“Poetry was made for you.”

This really was egregious now. What was his game?

“If you’ll excuse me,” he shuffled sideways, “I must be going.”

“I thought you wanted to watch the stars.”

“I did, it’s rather hard to do that with you blathering.”

“I can be quiet.”

“That’ll be the day,” Regulus murmured. 

James laughed softly, “You’re funny.”

“I’m leaving.”

“No, hold on,” James’ touch burned. His hand was large and warm, carefully placed on his arm to gently cradle his wrist. “There’s a reason I’m here. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Talk, then,” said Regulus. “I would like to go to bed soon.” 

James watched him. Something about the kindness in his brown eyes made Regulus’ stomach feel funny. Just like when he met James Potter for the first time. The butterflies in his stomach had never gone away. 

“I know it’s you.”

“I should hope so,” Regulus sent him a withering look. “You are standing right in front of me. Is your eyesight that bad?”

James huffed, “In the forest. That was you.”

Alarmed, his heart pounded in his chest. “I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re talking about, Potter. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must be going.”

James stepped in front of him, blocking his movement. “I know it was you. Fighting Moony. You’re the honey badger.”

How on Earth did he figure that out so quickly? No matter, Regulus wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being right. 

“Potter, truly, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you unwell? Have you been hexed? I can take you to Madam Pomfrey if you’d like.”

“Nice try. I’m not that stupid.”

“So, you admit you are stupid.”

James rolled his eyes and folded his arms, “You’re the honey badger. Why you thought it was a good idea to box a werewolf is beyond me but I know it was you.”

Mirroring his crossed arms, Regulus glowered up at him, “Enlighten me, Potter.”

“Only you have the balls to scrap a werewolf,” James shrugged. “Even I’d cut my losses at that point unless I had no other choice. But not you. You’re a fighter.”

“I’m a Slytherin. I do not fight useless battles.”

“Hm, true, but you never give up either, and anyone who has looked into the animagus process knows your form is representative of your personality. It’s all one big metaphor.”

”Is that so? How have you come to the conclusion that I would be a honey badger, then?”

”Like I said, you don’t give up. I know you’ve been following us for months. I know you worked out Moony’s secret. I know you decided to become an animagus to spite us. And your friends are too — tell Crouch to stop transforming near the creature pens, you can see them from Gryffindor Tower.”

Regulus could have smacked Barty, the blithering idiot. Still, he pretended to be unaffected. “If Barty has decided to learn a new skill that has nothing to do with me.”

“You’re so cute.”

Regulus’ eyes widened, “Excuse me?”

The smile on Potter’s face was strange. Almost fond. “You’re proving my point. You never give up. Even backed into a corner, you still argue back. You never quit. There’s always an argument on the tip of your tongue — it’s brilliant.”

“Never give up? What do I have to give up, exactly? You’re spouting a crackpot theory more befitting of a drunk divination teacher than a student in the top ninety-fifth percentile.”

“You know my test scores?”

“Of course I do, I know everything.”

“No,” James smiled secretively, eyes tracing Regulus’ face. “I think there’s a few things you don’t know.”

“Unlikely.”

“I’m confident.”

“You’re arrogant.” He corrected.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “Very fitting for the king of the forest.”

“You’re no king, you’re a jester along with my brother.”

“Ah, I forgot, you’re the king. The little king.”

“Quite,” Regulus sniffed, heart pounding. James knew the meaning behind his name? No, of course he did. He was best friends with Sirius, and everyone in the school learned astronomy. Him knowing that didn’t mean anything. 

“I bet you’ve got a crown and everything.”

“Obviously, as any ruler would.”

“You’d be a good ruler. I’d happily bow to you.”

Regulus’ pulse fluttered frantically, “You’ll have to swear fealty to the crown.”

“You’d look good with a golden crown. That’s what I’d wear as the king of the forest. Maybe we could match.”

Flustered, Regulus spluttered. “Gold? My crown is made of silver. Far better than one made of bone and twigs from running into trees.”

“Bone?”

“Or whatever stag antlers are made of,” he waved a hand carelessly. 

A slow grin stretched across James’ face, “Who said anything about stags?”

Bastard. 

“You did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. Everyone knows stags are the kings of the forest,” he said quickly.

James grinned, “Yeah, sure.”

Regulus’ face burned, “Right, this conversation is going nowhere. I’ll be going to bed now, I suggest you do the same or I shall tell Filch there is a gormless idiot wandering the astronomy tower hallucinating mustelids.”

“Isn’t it strange that you know the scientific term for a honey badger?”

That was actually a fair point. “I like to read,” Regulus pursed his lips and pushed past him. “Five minutes, Potter, or Filch will have your head.”

“Not my precious head. What about my crown?”

“Five minutes!”

“See you soon, honey!”

Regulus fled down the stairs, face flaming and his stomach fluttering. 

Honey. 

He wouldn’t cope if that nickname stuck. 

It stuck. 

Merlin be damned, it stuck.

In the weeks that followed, any time Potter came across him, the smug bastard would lean in and call out: ‘Hey, honey!’. 

The first time he blushed but was able to brush it off as a joke. The second time Potter whispered it directly in his ear and he went bright red, before he somehow ended up tumbling over a bench in the courtyard he could have sworn hadn’t been there before. By the third, fourth, and fifth instances, he was used to his face heating up as he tried to flee from James Potter and his hypnotic voice. 

Honey. Of all the ridiculous nicknames Potter could give him, it had to be that one. 

His friends thought it was all hilarious, at least until he explained the reason for the new pet name. They were none too pleased to realise they’d been caught out by James Potter of all people, especially Dorcas who smacked Barty upside the head for being the main reason they were exposed. Luckily she didn’t chastise Regulus for his own role in the matter — he relished in the blatant favouritism. 

“Hi, honey bunch.”

Regulus’ face flamed even as he turned and scowled at Potter. “No.”

“Honey-Honey?”

“No.”

“Honey Bunny?”

“Absolutely not.”

Potter tapped his chin, “Honeybee!”

Regulus hated the way his stomach fluttered and twisted — an awful swooping sensation, like he’d just taken a sharp dive on his broom, all because of Potter and his stupid crooked glasses and unfairly soft lips. It should have been a punishable offence to have such a pretty mouth, the way his plump lips wrapped around the word honeybee made his palms sweat. 

“Go away.”

“Can’t,” he sighed, dropping into the empty seat beside him. Regulus glanced around at the other people in the library, thankful that nobody was looking at them as his companion began sprawling himself out as if he owned the place. 

“Get your shoes off that chair.”

“Anything for you, honey,” James sighed, kicking his shoes off and wiggling his toes into the padded seat opposite them. 

Irritated, Regulus jabbed him with his quill, leaving a splotch of black ink on his white shirt. “That is not what I meant you gormless oaf. Remove yourself from my presence or—”

“Did you know that honey badgers have abnormally large brains for their size? It’s a testament to their intelligence, which they’re widely known for. They’ve been known to build ladders around obstacles to get where they want to go, making them one of the very few non-primates able to use and manufacture tools!”

Regulus blinked slowly. “I did know that.”

Instead of deflating, Potter swelled with excitement. “Did you also know that they’re born blind?”

“Yes.” Regulus did a lot of research on the cursed creatures after figuring out his form.

Potter hummed. Regulus got the feeling that he enjoyed the challenge. “Alright, well, did you know that honey badgers have a partnership with honey birds? See, the birds seek out beehives and call out for the honey badgers who break them open and eat the honey. Then the birds pick at what’s left, mainly the beeswax and the larvae. They’re honey bandits together!”

“I did not know that,” he admitted. “Too bad I don’t know any honey birds.”

Potter frowned. “You don’t need one of them,” he said, sounding upset. “Why would you need one of them?”

“For honey?”

Potter scowled, “I have honey.” He lifted his bag and pointedly shook it out on top of the table. Pots, bottles, and vials clattered against the wood, causing enough of a racket that a few people finally glanced their way and Madam Pince sent him the most severe glare he’d had directed at him since he was in second year and sneezed during a revision session. “Sorry!” James called before waving towards Regulus, “See? I’ve got loads of honey.”

“I… I see that.” Why on Earth did Potter have a bag full of honey? 

James preened. “Do you like it?”

“What?”

Large hands gestured widely to the array of honey on the table. Some of them were darker, others looked creamier, and a few even had actual pieces of honeycomb inside the jars. Regulus examined a few before his eyebrows shot up. There were varieties from all over the globe, all made slightly different from the rest. For some reason, Potter had it in his head that Regulus needed roughly 37 types of honey. 

Horribly, upsettingly, Regulus was endeared. 

“Thank you,” he forced himself to respond, old pureblood manners kicking in. 

And he was rewarded greatly for his efforts. A beam of pure sunlight warmed his cheeks as James smiled at him, obviously proud of himself. “I wasn’t sure what sort you’d like so I asked my mama to buy them all.”

“All?”

“Every type in the shop, and then every type in the next shop too.”

“Muggle?”

“And magical. The ones in the funny containers are muggle.”

Regulus prodded the yellow plastic lid curiously. Muggle honey. He wanted to crack one open and give it a taste but he would never eat in the library. He wasn’t a heathen. Or Barty. 

“Thank you, Potter.” He said, making sure to meet his eye, “This is very thoughtful.” He would blame his confusion for his unusual kindness towards the boy. James was such an odd young man. Learning all of those honey badger facts for him, deciding to buy him literal honey as a gift, and giving him the sweetest smile on Earth all because Regulus said thank you? 

Odd. Bizarre. Unnatural. 

Devastatingly endearing. 

Regulus cleared his throat, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really do need to finish this essay—”

“Sure thing, honey,” James grinned easily, snapping his fingers and sending the honey dancing into a black leather bag on Regulus’ other side which hadn’t been there before. He pretended the casual display of wandless magic wasn’t making his mouth dry as he scrutinised the bag. “That’s for you. Don’t let anyone else have a taste.”

“Have you poisoned it?”

James gaped, “What? No!”

“How disappointing. This would be a perfect opportunity.”

“I’d never poison you.” James said, aghast.   

“Not even a little?”

“Of course not!”

“That’s strange.”

James blinked. He looked more like a spooked deer than ever. “How?”

“I’ve poisoned all of my friends at least once.”

“You have?”

Regulus tilted his head, “You haven't?”

James laughed, running a hand through his hair. “No, er, definitely not. Even Sirius?”

“Especially Sirius.”

He laughed again, “What about me?”

“No. I only poison people with good reason. Like when Barty stepped on my new shoes, or when Dorcas broke my favourite quill.”

“Well, now I feel left out.”

“Are you saying you want me to poison you?”

“I'd like the experience. You obviously don’t use lethal force. I’m sure I could handle it.” His expression was open and eager.

“Doubtful.” 

“Is that a no?”

“Goodbye, Potter,” he turned back to his essay. 

“Maybe it’s for the best. Although, it would be the only way your team will ever beat Gryffindor.”

Potter’s tone was light. It was obviously a taunt to get him to change his mind, and Regulus hated that it worked. The weight of competitiveness settled in his bones, forcing him to glance up at Potter. 

“Oh?”

Potter smirked, “You heard.”

Regulus’ eyes narrowed. 

“Come on, honey. Prove me wrong.”

The goosebumps creeping along his arms were ignored. Clearing his throat, he met James’ stare unflinchingly. “You’re on, Potter.”

Days later, James Potter was in the hospital wing with an unknown ailment that had him babbling incessantly about his ‘honeylove’. Before he could be sidelined from the next game, the delirium was cured and he was back in fighting form. 

Slytherin crushed Gryffindor without the need for underhand tricks. Regulus made sure to give Potter a very smug grin as he was hoisted into the air and paraded across the pitch. 

The honey pot quill holder he was gifted the next morning by an anonymous party took pride and place on his desk. 

“What is going on between you and James?”

Regulus was getting a little sick of people interrupting his studying time. The alcove in the far end of the alchemy corridor was a little known secret and also his favourite place to read in peace. As usual, his brother had to ruin his solitude.

“I’m busy.”

Sirius pushed the tapestry out of the way and let it fall back to cover them from view. He glared at his brother the entire time he summoned an obnoxiously plush cushion and sat on it, back pressed to the wall opposite Regulus. “Answer me.”

“I have no clue what—”

“Don’t be obtuse.” Sirius snapped, “You’ve been meeting up with him. And don’t get me started on that nickname! He’s been obsessed with honey for the past few months, it’s driving us all spare. Do you know how many times I’ve been woken up in the middle of the night to try some new batch of honey he’s had delivered? Said something about siblings having similar taste.”

Regulus frowned. “You have terrible taste.” Sirius liked cheese and pickle sandwiches — despicable. 

Sirius flicked him on the knee. “Shut up.”

Sniffing, he pointedly went back to reading under the dim light of his wand. 

His brother lasted about eleven seconds before he made a strangled noise, throwing his hands up in the air. “Answer me!”

“I would rather swallow a live bee.”

“Oh, I’m sure you would, honey,” Sirius said. Regulus’ face burned. James Potter was ruining him — he would usually have said a live wasp, not a bloody bee “Seriously, why is my best friend mad on honey and calling you his bumblebee and honeybun and honeylove whenever I mention you?”

Regulus’ face burned. “Why are you mentioning me at all?”

“That is not the point!” Sirius threw his hands up again. “Are you and James canoodling?”

“Canoodling?”

“Because if you are I would like to express my utmost love and respect for the both of you while simultaneously expressing my hatred of this new relationship.”

“There is no relationship.”

“Yet! I know what James is like, and it’s hardly a secret that you’ve had a crush on him since first year—”

“No, I did not!” He paused, “Have not. Don’t. What are you even talking about?”

“Oh, please. You used to give him these big puppy dog eyes every time he smiled at you. Your face would go bright red — like right now. Everyone knows.”

Regulus kicked his brother. “Shut up!”

“If you two have finally realised your undying love for each other then I support you. I have my funeral wear already picked out—”

“Whose funeral?”

“James’.”

“Why?”

“He can’t date my baby brother without asking me first, so I’ll have to kill him to make a point.” Sirius petted Regulus’ hair like he was a small child, “Don’t worry, Reg. You’ll find someone new.”

Regulus resisted the urge to snap his teeth at his brother. Animal instincts were so bothersome. Thankfully they would wane with time, and at least he wasn’t unable to resist them anymore. Evan still refused to put his hands close to Regulus’ face — Madam Pomfrey managed to reattach the tip of his finger so he didn’t know why Evan was still so upset. He should have known better than to tease Regulus about James randomly appearing outside the Slytherin common room with a basket full of honey, honeycomb, and all of his favourite fruits.

The memory made his face burn. “We aren’t dating.”

Sirius sighed, “For another day, then. When he inevitably upsets you and I have to fix it.”

“I’m disappointed you made no mention of my funeral.” 

There was an oddly long pause. “Reg, I’m never going to your funeral.”

Ouch. “Am I not worthy enough for you to attend?” He said it lightly even as he stared down at his book. That stung far worse than he would have expected. Sure, they’d had a difficult time the past few years but he had been cautiously optimistic thinking they were doing better.

Sirius went quiet again. Regulus looked away, eyes burning as his fingers creased the edges of the page he was gripping. 

“If you died, I wouldn’t go to your funeral because I wouldn’t still be here,” Sirius said.

Startled, Regulus peered at him. The dim lighting of the alcove made Sirius’ expression look more severe. Haunted, and bathed in shadow. 

“How maudlin.”

Sirius grinned, still a little too sharp for it to be sincere. “You know me, honeybee. I’m too emotional for the Blacks.”

“Which is ironic as our family is known for its high emotions. Particularly the more volatile ones.”

“Ah, well, see Mother always liked my penchant for cruelty until it was directed at her instead of the muggles next door.”

“I’ve never understood why someone who loathes muggles so much chooses to live beside them.”

“That’s what I said!” Sirius laughed. 

Regulus smiled down at his book. The relationship between them was still tense and strained at times but they’d made leaps and bounds towards repairing their relationship in the past year or so — shortly before his transition. He still wondered if that was part of the reason they managed to reconnect. Regulus was tired of living as someone else and who understood that better than his brother?

Asking his brother to cut his hair for the first time was the olive branch they needed to bridge the gap over the rocky chasm which had grown between them. Ever since, they’d been gradually growing back towards the impossible closeness of their childhood.

“Honestly, though,” Sirius started, “if you and James are together you can tell me. I won’t mind. Might maim him a little but other than that…”

Regulus sighed, “We aren’t dating, Sirius.”

“But you want to be.”

“That is neither here nor there.”

A bright smile lit up his features. While Regulus was used to seeing his brother wrapped in shadow, it was clear where Sirius belonged. The light was made for him. 

“Go for it!”

“Please.”

“No, I mean it. You haven’t heard the way he goes on about you. He likes you, Reg. Do you think he calls anyone else by a stupid nickname?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Padfoot,” he stressed, “why don’t we ask Moony and Wormtail?”

Sirius blinked. “That’s different.”

Regulus smirked. “It isn’t.”

“Yes, it definitely is.” Sirius said loftily. “Our nicknames have a very specific meaning. Unlike honey, which is just Prongs being a terrible flirt. Where did that even come from?”

This was the entire reason he’d become an animagus in the first place. Lauding something over his brother was one of the many joys of having a sibling. Even when Sirius had no idea he’d been spectacularly outdone. 

“If you say so.”

“I do say so,” Sirius affirmed. 

“Great. Now, go away. I want to finish this chapter in peace.”

“You’re no fun. What’s the point of having a little brother if you can’t tease them about their gross crush on your best friend?”

“Five, four, three—”

Sirius huffed but he knew well enough to escape while he could once Regulus began his countdown. The first few times he tried that trick, his brother decided to call him on his bluff. Sirius still flinched at lemons to this day. But his brother made sure to pause and ruffle his hair as he slipped out of the alcove. 

Idiot. 

Once he was gone, Regulus sighed and thought over what he said. James Potter did not like him back. The notion was simply absurd. 

A large tongue lapped over his face and Regulus growled as he batted at Dorcas. She snuffled at him, nudging him with a head larger than his entire body before loping off towards Evan who was stomping around the forest with his reptilian legs which made him the tallest of them by far. Pandora soared between the trees, making light trills as she scoped out their surroundings. All the while, Barty was menacing a poor hare in its burrow, snapping his teeth and making the tiny thing shake.  

Regulus bit down on Barty’s back leg scoldingly. Dorcas huffed in amusement as she nudged Evan to keep walking when he set his beady eyes on them. As a human, Evan wasn’t needlessly aggressive, but whenever Barty acted up he always liked sitting back to watch which was slowing them down since Barty was troublesome enough usually — as an animal, he was like an uncontrolled toddler on a sugar high only with fur. 

For a few weeks in a row, they’d made a habit of sneaking out on the weekend to gambol around the forest in their animagus forms. Regulus usually ended up running around with Dorcas and play fighting with Barty, while their bird companions either floated above them or sharpened their claws on the thickest tree trunks. Regulus was already preparing himself to read the papers this summer and see Evan’s father’s face clawed for the world to see. 

Loud barking noises caught his attention and he froze where he was sniffing around for some berries to snack on. 

Not again.

A long howl followed and Regulus could have tossed himself off the Astronomy Tower. It had been several months since that first moon, the first time he came face-to-face with Moony. The meeting that set off a chain reaction leading to James Potter following him around the castle and calling him variations of the pet name honey.

How had he done it again? How had he not realised that this particular weekend frolick aligned with the full moon?

Moony bounded through the trees having obviously smelled Regulus and was eager to see him again. Unsurprisingly, Padfoot and Prongs followed with Wormtail nowhere to be seen. Regulus vaguely remembered that Pettigrew had gone home for the weekend for the funeral of a family member. Before he could attempt to divert the werewolf’s attention, Barty jumped over him and dropped into a crouch, snarling and growling defensively. 

Stupid must have run in their friend group as Evan stalked closer with Dorcas flanking his other side to confront the werewolf. Pandora chirped from where she was hiding in the trees and—not for the first time—he envied her ability to fly at will. He would have loved to evade this whole situation by soaring through the trees but of course magic decided he was too much of a vicious little weasel. 

Padfoot growled unhappily. Prongs huffed and stomped his foot. Regulus pretended not to notice he hadn’t taken his pretty brown eyes off Regulus even for a second. 

Deciding to take charge, Regulus waddled forwards and pointedly bit Barty’s foot before doing the same to Sirius. Growling softly, he threw himself at Moony and flipped himself on top of his head. Moony huffed and tilted his head to shake him off but Regulus latched on with his teeth to Moony’s scruff. Joyriding a werewolf was one of life’s greatest pleasures, and Moony seemed happy to humour him as he howled and tore through the trees. 

Dorcas kept pace with them easily, followed by Barty and James. Sirius barked the entire time as Pandora flew serenely above them. Moony finally came to a stop after his mad sprint and Regulus rolled off onto the damp ground. Evan came last, purely because he refused to run unless he had to. 

Moony walloped Barty the second he came too close, gaining a ferocious growl from Dorcas, which earned her a warning bark from Sirius. 

Regulus sat back, content to groom himself as his friends and his brother’s friends became acquainted. The secret he’d been carefully hiding from his brother was bound to come out after this. His brother and his moronic Gryffindors could ignore a single honey badger but four more animals who clearly did not belong in the forest would raise questions. 

A large hoof landed in front of him and Regulus glared up at Potter as he licked his paws. What? 

Potter tossed his antlers. Up. 

Regulus sniffed. No. 

Potter stomped. Want you, stand up.

Regulus continued ignoring him. 

Another stomp. Look at me. Strong, impressive, handsome. He tossed his antlers again and straightened his thick neck. 

Boredly, Regulus kept licking his paw. Don’t care. 

A pointy antler tipped in front of him and suddenly Regulus was hooked under his belly and tossed onto Potter’s back. A hiss left his mouth and he whacked Potter on the back of the head. Idiot. 

Potter shook his antlers again, much happier this time. Regulus huffed as he settled on his back and felt a pull to lick at his ears. So he did. Awkwardly at first, Regulus began grooming the fur at the back of his ears and scratching his neck with his claws. Potter made a pleased rumble which spurred him on. 

He would later blame this on impossible to understand animal instincts as somehow he ended up spending at least half an hour carefully grooming Potter who then let Regulus use his antlers to scratch the leaves out of his dense fur. 

After some more frolicking, they came back to the group who had calmed down a little. Moony was having fun batting at Pandora who swerved in and out of view carrying acorns and twigs which she kept dropping on the werewolf’s head; meanwhile, Barty and Sirius were engaged in a battle to the death with Dorcas and Evan spectating. 

Regulus huffed as he leaped off Potter’s back on top of the two snarling dogs who quieted in an instant. With a quick smack to both of their faces, he focused their attention onto the sky which was rapidly lightening. 

Padfoot whirled around to Moony and began herding him away. Before he left, Prongs stopped in front of him and licked his cheek — Regulus didn’t know honey badgers could blush. 

The bemused stares of his friends made things infinitely worse. So he did what any good honey badger would do. He threw himself at Dorcas and started fighting. 

“So,” Barty began the second Regulus slipped out from his closed bed curtains, “do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Regulus glared at him through tired eyes. His silk pyjamas made him shiver slightly in the perpetual cold of the dungeon and he pointedly raised his privacy curtain so he could change into his clothes. Even though he knew he could change in front of them, he had always been rather prudish and admittedly a little self-conscious. Most of the scars on his body were shared by his friends but he couldn’t bear for anyone to see them. Only Sirius had ever seen him so vulnerable. They’d gotten used to stripping each other to better clean their wounds. 

“You seem to have made a new friend last night.” Evan called from the bathroom. 

“You’ll have to remind me. See, I was rather distracted watching Barty try to maul my brother to death.”

Barty huffed. “I could’ve beaten him.” Regulus hated that he understood the sentiment.

Evan laughed loudly from the other room, “You two are as bad as each other. But come on, Reg, what’s going on with you and Potter?”

“Yeah, honey, tell all.”

Now fully dressed, Regulus dropped the curtain and folded his arms, his favourite dagger slipping between his fingers. “Say another word and I will nail you to the ceiling by your toes and use your face for target practice.”

Barty grinned, “What an honour.”

“You don’t want to do that. Time wasted from seeing your deer-ly beloved—”

Regulus sent his dagger sailing into Evan’s pillow. Evan poked his head around the corner, only half of his hair done. Regulus sent him an innocent smile, summoned the dagger, and swept out of his dorm. Their riotous laughter followed him all the way to the entrance of the common room where Dorcas and Pandora were waiting, amused smiles on their faces. 

“Not a word.”

Dorcas grinned and Pandora giggled as she hooked their arms together. 

“If you say so, honey.”

A book slammed down in front of him. Regulus sighed, used to people making him lose more revision time. So much so that he didn’t say a word as his brother climbed over the chairs to wriggle as close to him as possible. 

There was a brief pause. A hand smacked the book closer. Regulus continued reading. The book was picked up and waved in his face. For a split second, he saw the pages and recognised the drawing of the vicious, dark-furred weasel glaring out at him. 

Great. 

“So,” Sirius began, “it seems you’ve been keeping something from me.”

Regulus turned a page, “Why must you bother me when I’m busy?”

“The honey badger, scientific name mellivora capensis, also known as the ratel. A mammal widely distributed throughout Africa and parts of Asia. A carnivorous species with very few predators due to its—”

“If you’re going to spout facts about random animals please do so elsewhere. I am trying to revise for my transfiguration exam.”

“Transfiguration. Hm. See, I thought there was no higher form of transfiguration than the human-to-animal transformation known as the animagus transformation. Something I’m sure you’re very familiar with, you know, because you are one—“ Regulus quickly hexed his brother’s mouth shut with a thick piece of wax paper. 

With a vicious glare, Sirius gestured towards his mouth furiously. 

Regulus mirrored the look, “I don’t think you should be talking, Padfoot.” Sirius’ eyes widened. “Yes, I know about that.”

Vanishing the paper, he allowed his brother a moment to gather his thoughts. Before he could speak, heavy footsteps stomped towards them revealing James Potter in all of his sweaty glory. Regulus’ jaw dropped as he saw Potter’s chest and abdomen on full display. His white school shirt was fully unbuttoned, his tie loose in his hand and his hair a complete mess. The Head Boy badge dangled uselessly off the breast of his unbuttoned shirt which flapped as he came to a stop in front of them.

James panted, “Bloody hell, you’re fast.” Then he scowled as he began hastily buttoning his shirt, “You locked me in a broom cupboard!”

“You were fraternising with the enemy!” Sirius shot back. 

“How?”

“I saw you last night! Canoodling with little baby Reggie right under my nose, snout, whatever. If it weren’t for that freak Crouch— Crouch was the dog, right?” He asked Regulus who blinked. “What am I saying? Of course it was Crouch, the bloody sociopath.”

“I would like to know who the cassowary is,” Remus said as he lowered himself into the seat on Regulus’ other side, his cane resting against the table. “Remarkable creatures. Shame I can barely remember seeing it.”

Regulus threw his hands up. “Oh, yes, please do join in on the fun. More noise is all I need.”

Remus shrugged. “Sirius kept us from getting breakfast while he researched. This is your punishment for biting my ear.”

“You tried to eat Pandora!”

“Doves are tasty.”

“Please,” Sirius hit the table with his palm. “Listen very carefully, Reggie. You are never to do something so dangerous and reckless ever again without telling me first.”

Regulus’ fingers twitched towards his dagger. As he raised the knife to strike, his brother countered with his own blade, leaving them locked in a silent battle of wills. After a moment, he twisted his wrist and easily disarmed his brother who allowed it. 

“That was hot.”

Remus sighed deeply, “It was but you shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why not?”

Incensed, Sirius yanked his dagger back, forced James to sit, and drove the knife into the table where James’ sleeve draped across the wood, keeping him in place. “Stay.”

“You are so dramatic.”

“You lied to me!”

“When?” James gaped, slowly wriggling his hand out of Sirius’ death grip. The other hand went to the hilt of the dagger which he tried to remove, only to realise it was unmovable. Regulus loved Aunt Cassiopeia and her personalised blades, he would have to tell her the charms worked perfectly.

“I asked you why you call Reg that stupid nickname now and you said it was just for fun. Clearly, you knew my little baby brother was gallivanting around the forest and beating up werewolves for fun!”

“Ouch,” Remus murmured.

“Sore loser,” Regulus said. 

“You wish,” he sniped back. 

“Care to test that theory?”

“Oh, you’re in for it now Black—”

“Are you flirting?” James asked furiously. “Seriously, Moony? Does a Marauder Marriage mean nothing to you?”

Regulus asked. “Marauder Marriage?”

“Not everyone thinks flirting means being insulted or threatened,” Remus patted James’ shoulder.  

“Of course it’s not. But when it’s Regulus it’s different.” James’ words made his face feel hot. 

Sirius gasped loudly. “You Marauder Married my baby brother without asking for permission?”

“What is a Marauder Marriage?”

The three idiots went silent, trading awkward looks. Reluctantly, Remus explained, “Well, back in second year we had a bit of a spat. See, James and I both had a crush on the Prewett brothers. Different ones, mind. James liked Fabian and I liked Gideon—”

“The vile red-haired hussy,” Sirius spat. “No taste at all, Moony.”

“Yes, dear,” Remus sighed. “Anyway, because we couldn’t communicate that, we both thought we liked the same Prewett which led to a pretty nasty argument. That’s when Peter came up with the concept of a Marauder Marriage. Nobody is allowed to make a move on the person claimed for marriage by a fellow Marauder. Peter is our officiant.”

“And I told Peter years ago that I claimed Regulus so you know it’s a standing agreement. You can’t go flirting with him now, Moony, that breaks Article Seven of the Marauder contract: No Marauder shall fraternise with the past or present friend or crush of another Marauder unless given permission!”

“What about Article Thirteen: No Marauder can date the family of a fellow Marauder without permission?” Sirius demanded. Regulus began to feel very left out of this conversation. Or maybe that was because his mind had detached and decided to soar into space along with his heart. 

Did James Potter really just admit to having claimed Regulus as a romantic partner? The notion should have made him furious beyond belief. He was not a thing to be coveted like a precious jewel. But… Well, the rules were a little different with someone as lovely as James. 

“—doesn’t even apply because that rule came into effect several months after Peter blessed our union. He wrote it down and everything so it’s official.” James explained, as Sirius waved his knife, leaving James free to hold his hands up in defence. 

“—completely unfair. Somebody should have told me James was fiending after my little baby brother!”

“You told me you wouldn’t mind if they dated,” Remus said, “I didn’t see the point in mentioning it.”

“Of course they can date!”

“Are you sure? Because you seem a little upset.” James frowned. 

“Upset?” Sirius shrieked. “I’m not upset! I’m— I’m merely expressing concern that the proper protocols have not been followed—”

“Oh, no. He’s going posh.” James gasped. “Moony do something before he starts saying hitherto.”

Remus rubbed his forehead. “Sirius, baby, sit down.” Like a well trained dog, his brother dropped into his seat still clutching the knife. “Give.” He handed over the blade. “Excellent, now, why are you upset?”

Sirius clenched his fists. “He should have told me that Regulus was in danger.”

“I was hardly in any danger. Your boyfriend couldn’t kill anything except our bloodline once he makes the foolish mistake of marrying you,” Regulus retorted sharply. “And I’ll thank you to stop treating me like a child. Why is it that you are allowed to run amok with the beast yet I can’t?”

“You’re the beast.” Remus said sullenly. 

“I didn’t want to betray his trust,” James said to Sirius. “He’s only just stopped hexing my shoes full of sand when I come near him. This is great progress, mate. I thought you’d be happy for me.”

“Not at the expense of his life! And for your information, Reggie, I am allowed to do whatever I want because I’m older and therefore wiser.”

“You’re also wrinklier.”

Sirius gasped, “Where?”

“Idiot.”

“Er…” Remus looked between them, “I’m confused. When did Regulus hex your shoes full of sand?”

“All the time back in fourth year.”

Around the time Regulus realised the reason his heart hammered around James Potter was because he wanted to kiss him. 

“Narcissa’s hex?”

Regulus nodded, “She taught it to me after showing me the castration curse.”

“I can’t believe she never taught me that one,” Sirius frowned. 

“Probably because you’d have tried to use it on her father.”

“He deserves far worse!”

“Yes but if anyone deserves to kill him it’s her.” Since Cygnus was still convinced Narcissa wasn’t his by blood despite the many bloodline tests. 

“Reminder that we are in public,” said Remus shortly. “Maybe shelve the Black talk until later.”

“And subject myself to more time spent in such lowbrow company? Please.”

James sighed dreamily, “You’re so cute when you’re mean.”

“You’re bothersome.”

“Insult me more.”

“Your tie is knotted incorrectly and your glasses are crooked but what more can be expected of someone so dimwitted.”

James grinned, “Lovely.”

“I abhor this,” said Sirius, mouth resembling a wrinkled coin purse. 

“Nobody cares,” Regulus snapped. 

“Bumblebee, how do you feel about a Hogsmeade date this Saturday?”

Regulus snapped his quill. “That name is awful.”

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m enraged.”

“Is that a no?”

“No,” he said, then he swallowed, “I suppose I could find the time.”

“Excellent! I’ll bring a pot of Elvish honey! Be ready at nine, I’ll pick you up from your common room!” With those final words, James practically bounced away with a beaming smile on his face. 

Feeling terribly fond, Regulus watched him go. 

Sirius made a disgusted noise, “I really, really hate this.”

Remus turned a page in his book, “At least now James can take down his shrine.”

Sirius frowned, “You mean the Falcons shrine?”

“To you it’s a Falcons shrine, to everyone else it’s something completely different.”

There was a moment of silence before Sirius’ face morphed in horror. Then, he shot up from his seat and ran out of the library, ignoring Madam Pince’s hissing. 

“Shrine?”

Remus grinned at him slyly, “Ask James about it. I won’t spoil your fun.”

Regulus nodded slowly. After a few seconds of peace, he lifted his dagger and threw it down beside Remus’ hand before he could lift his book again. 

“Let’s have a chat, Lupin. I think we’re long overdue.”

Remus only sighed. “The thanks I get…”

Regulus decided to go easy on Remus. After all, he’d managed this long by Sirius’ side and he didn’t seem eager to call it quits, so Regulus was kind enough not to practise some of Bella’s spells on him. They actually had a rather nice talk about different branches of alchemy after Regulus finished his interrogation of Remus, his bloodline, and his plans for Sirius. Regulus thought maybe he had a new friend, not that he’d ever admit it. 

Saturday came around quickly. There was an uncomfortable argument where he’d barely managed to convince his friends not to follow him into Hogsmeade, which he only won because he transformed into his honey badger form and hid under his bed until they promised not to spoil his outing for him. 

There was another term he could have used but although James called it a date the other day, that didn’t mean anything. James might have meant a friendly date, or he might not have meant a date at all — it wouldn’t be unheard of for him to have spoken without thinking. To cope, he’d started writing a report using his observations over the past months and using the words of his brother and Remus as references. Although there was nobody he cited more than James. Even with the results staring back at him, he still didn’t let himself believe.

While his friends didn’t follow him, they did insist on helping him get dressed and escorting him to the entrance of their common room. Dorcas said James had earned points for picking him up; Barty disagreed and said it showed a lack of imagination. Regulus thought they were both being ridiculous until Evan presented an actual score chart and Pandora began to fill it in. 

They were so much like him, it brought a tear to his eye. 

So, Regulus led the way to the common room entrance in his nicest dress blouse and tailored trousers. Initially, he’d wanted to wear robes, but Pandora and Dorcas insisted it was too much for a casual date to Hogsmeade, which then made Evan and Barty deduct points for not being flashy enough despite the Potter wealth. Idiots. Regulus loved them. 

They waited not-so patiently outside the common room entrance with Barty sporadically declaring one-point reductions for tardiness. Luckily Pandora was there to add points for intrigue and mystery. At one point, Evan gave up on holding the tally chart and shoved it over to Dorcas for her to deal with. 

Before Barty could dramatically swipe away all of James’ accumulated points, the man himself turned up with both hands behind his back and an uncharacteristically shy smile on his face. Although Regulus loved James’ usual toothy grin, the sight of this humble, unsure smile made him feel warm and soft inside. How embarrassing. 

“Regulus,” James breathed, shifting to present the offerings in both hands, “you look lovely.”

In his left hand he held a pot of Elven honey as promised; in the right hand he presented a bouquet of flowers. Due to his upbringing, Maman ensured he knew the language of flowers like all pureblood ladies were expected to. Not that it was relevant anymore — courtships were slowly losing favour and very few pureblood scions bothered to properly court the person who held their affections. Probably because most marriages nowadays were too concerned with continuing bloodlines and securing auspicious business relationships as opposed to genuine unions of love. 

Regulus… Regulus liked the old-fashioned ways. He used to dream of being courted, of being swept off his feet with pretty words and heartfelt gestures. The only person who knew of his soft heart was Sirius, who used to giggle with him under the cover of Sirius’ duvet and help him plan his dream wedding, both pretending they were far, far away from Grimmauld Place. 

The bouquet from James was everything he could have hoped for. The first thing he noticed was the health of each flower. Petals bloomed vibrantly, held aloft on strong stems with a rich green hue. The silver ribbon wrapped around the base of the bouquet kept each flower in place and he immediately understood that James had created this himself. He could feel the tingle of James’ magic in the ribbon and on each stem — he hadn’t commissioned a bouquet from a florist, he’d made it himself. 

Heart pounding, he gently took the bouquet from James’ outstretched hands. His friends were completely silent behind him as he brought the flowers to his nose and carefully inhaled. 

Honey. 

“Oh,” he whispered as he lowered the gift. 

Swallowing thickly, he examined each flower hungrily. White and purple crocus: cheerfulness, innocence, and success. Aster: symbol of love, patience, and fragility. Blue hydrangeas: gratitude for being understood. White cosmos: purity, faithfulness, and joy in romantic love. Blue salvia: wisdom and good health. Larkspur: his birth flower, and a symbol of a beautiful spirit, dedication, sincerity, and strong bonds of love.

The fact that many of the more abundant flowers were also highly regarded as being excellent for bees didn’t escape his notice. Trust James to find a way to tease him even while being a hopeless romantic. 

As he lifted the bouquet to breathe in the scent again, his finger brushed against the ribbon and he paused. The ribbon wasn’t pure silver like he thought. Frowning, he raised the stems and felt his throat thicken as he registered the delicate little yellow flowers, each painstakingly stitched into the silver ribbon. 

Jonquil, James’ birth flower. Not daffodils, the more commonly associated flower for March. Despite the fact that the two flowers were so similar in appearance, Regulus knew the difference. Daffodils were thought to symbolise unrequited love and were often seen as a poison to other flowers when placed in a bouquet; on the other hand, jonquils were held in higher regard, representing a desire for affection to be reciprocated, creativity, and hope.  

Moreover, daffodils were avoided by bees, while jonquils enticed them. Stupidly, Regulus felt tears burn in his eyes. 

“You do realise I’m not actually a bee, right?” Regulus managed after a few moments of steady breathing. His throat hurt and he blinked several times, keeping the bouquet close to his heart as he avoided looking at anyone. 

“Ah, but you’re my honeybee.” James said, a warm smile on his face. 

Regulus didn’t lower the bouquet. If James knew enough to understand floriography, then he likely knew what each movement after receiving the flowers would mean. Keeping the bouquet close to his chest meant he accepted. And how could he not? After such a thoughtful gift, Regulus would be a fool to reject James’ devotion, and Regulus was no fool. 

Someone behind him sniffled and Regulus’ back went rigid as he remembered they had an audience for this. Part of him wanted to turn around and beat them with his bouquet to make them leave but he would never risk anything happening to these flowers. Slowly, Regulus held the bouquet out and raised his wand to conjure a vase. Before he could speak, James held a hand out. 

“Wait!”

Regulus blinked. 

“If you’re going to vanish them, I should probably remove the protective charms—”

“I’m not going to vanish them,” he said. Something pricked in his chest, did James think his affections were not returned? Did he think Regulus would be so cruel? Unless he didn’t think Regulus understood the deeper meaning of these flowers, but that couldn’t be right. “I’m going to conjure a vase.”

“Oh.” James’ eyes went wide. “I have one!”

Regulus raised a single eyebrow and James hurriedly turned around and reached out. Seemingly out of thin air, something rippled and a large silver vase was held out.  An amused smile tugged at his lips. So Regulus wasn’t the only one with clingy, overbearing friends. He would bet his entire family fortune that his brother was right there under James’ invisibility cloak. 

“It’s a good thing everyone here already knows about your cloak.”

James froze. “Shit. When did you figure that one out?”

“You’re many things, James, subtle is not one of them.”

An abashed smile made James duck his head. “May I?” 

Although Regulus wanted to clutch the flowers and never let them go, he let James take them. He carefully placed them in the vase and Regulus accepted the new gift. 

“Thank you, James. This is truly lovely.” He said, smiling shyly up at him.

If Regulus thought he’d seen James smile brightly before then he was sorely mistaken. The way James’ entire being lit up with his words made his chest feel warm. 

“You like them?”

“Very much, this may be the best gift I’ve ever received.”

James’ body visibly trembled in excitement, “Really?”

“As sweet as this Elven honey will be, I’m afraid it has nothing on you,” he said, tilting the jar. 

There was a funny little choked noise from James, his cheeks bunched up with a wide grin. “So long as my honey badger is happy.”

“Make your mind up, Potter. Am I a bee or a badger?”

“You’re a star.”

Regulus’ face burned but before he could respond, Sirius appeared from under the cloak. Tears streamed down his face but his mouth was pulled down in a deep frown. 

“Right, go away, the both of you. If I have to watch any more of this I’m going to throw up. Get out.”

“Please,” Barty said, sounding strangled. When he turned, he saw that all of his friends were in a bit of a state. Pandora was crying even more than Sirius, Evan was adding extra tally marks to the chart which a sniffling Dorcas held. As for Barty, he had his arms folded and a deep scowl on his face. “You’ve won this round, Potter. But we will be having a talk later, just me and you.”

“Fine by me,” James grinned before offering his arm out. “If I may escort you, Master Black?”

Regulus couldn’t help but giggle. Passing the vase over to Pandora, who was known for her steady hands, he accepted James’ elbow and smiled. “You may, Master Potter.”

“So,” James began as they made their way towards the staircase, “did you know jonquil smell like honey?”

“I did not.”

“Well, they do! Some people think they smell unpleasant but I’ve always liked them. Mama grows them in her garden, she’s already thrilled we’re going out together. She won the bet against Papa, he said you wouldn’t give in for at least another year.”

“Bet?”

Twisting his free hand somewhat awkwardly, James said, “They’ve heard a lot about you. Mama started the bet, oh, uh, I think a few years ago.”

Regulus smiled, “You’ve really liked me for that long?”

“Yeah.”

“How sweet,” and even as he said it, he knew what James’ response would be. 

“As sweet as honey?”

They hadn’t even properly begun their date and yet the urge to kiss him was already too strong. 

“No, as sweet as you.” 

Flustered, James cleared his throat and looked out across the grounds as they exited the castle. A victorious smirk spread across his face. James thought he was the only one capable of flirting up a storm, he hadn’t seen Regulus in action. 

“Did you know that in the old myths, it was said that when Persephone was stolen away to the Underworld she was distracted picking jonquils. When she arrived in the Underworld, she was clutching them in her hand and when she dropped them at the edge of the River Styx, they bloomed, and it was thought that they continued to grow down there all across the Underworld in meadows.”

Fond, Regulus squeezed his arm, “I was aware of the myth, although I did not know it was jonquils she was holding.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of reading about flowers.”

“I can tell. Your bouquet was received wholeheartedly.” Just in case James didn’t think he understood the meaning of each flower. 

“Sirius told me you would get it.”

“Was it his idea?”

“No! I swear it was all mine. But then I started panicking because I thought you might not know what I was trying to say. Everyone gives flowers, even muggles, but not everyone knows what each one means. Sirius assured me you’d understand perfectly.”

“I do.”

“I’d love to hear you say that in other circumstances.”

A peal of laughter fell from his lips, “My, Master Potter, how forward of you.”

“I’m an all-in sort of bloke.”

“I can tell.”

“Have I scared you off yet?”

“Not even a little.”

“Oh. Good,” James cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses as they made their way across the bridge. “Did you know that honeybees communicate through dancing?”

Sighing, Regulus resigned himself to a life of facts revolving around honey, bees, or honey badgers whenever James got anxious. Oh, well. There were worse habits and this one happened to be incredibly endearing. 

Perhaps it was a good thing that Regulus was such a vindictive little bastard. If he’d never started stalking his brother to figure out his secrets he never would have become an animagus which unknowingly bridged the gap between him and the boy of his dreams. 

Regulus would have to give Sirius a gift to make up for it. He did have a rather large supply of honey he feared he’d never get through. 

Maybe it was best not to mention to James that Regulus didn’t love honey as much as his animagus form implied. He was just too cute to disappoint.