Title: You Know Why I Hide Away

Pairing: Jamie Potter/Regulus Black and Dorea Potter/Charlus Potter

First Time:

"Is Lady Potter being wanting anything else?" the house-elf asked.

Jamie Potter shook her head and accepted the cup of Earl Grey tea. All she wanted right now was for everyone to stop asking her whom she would choose as her bonding partner. Being the first daughter born into the family for five generations wasn't pleasant. She suddenly found herself Lady Potter and Head of the Family. Her mother Dorea had held it in trust for her until she turned seventeen, but control switched to Jamie when she came of age. Finally, after three hundred years, there was a viable Potter Matriarch.

Oh, she had known it was coming. Her parents had prepared her since childhood to be able to run their estate. However, she felt like she had been thrown off a cliff without a broomstick.

"What about Sirius? He's so in love with you!" Jamie said, mocking Clara Clearwater. She had heard variations of that statement for the past few years, but the increasing frequency frustrated her. It didn't matter how many times she told her friends she didn't love Sirius like that, because none of them believed her.

"I'm not in denial!" she snapped. The biscuit she had just picked up snapped in half. Sighing, Jamie ate it anyway. Sirius Black had been her friend since the day she met him on the Hogwarts Express. He was funny and entertaining, and he didn't take himself too seriously. He also didn't give much stock to appropriate protocol in her presence. If he really was making a bid to win her heart and receive a courtship offer from her, he had gone about it the wrong way.

If Jamie's parents had ever given her a brother, she imagined he would be like Sirius; they would've certainly gotten into trouble together. And while she was protective of Sirius, that was because she didn't want any of the pureblood witches to take advantage of him. His desire to rebel against his parents was great, and she didn't want to see him ruined or trapped in a bonding with someone who would do everything in her power to turn Sirius into a 'proper pureblood heir'.

The door to the kitchens opened; Jamie was surprised at the interruption. She could only be out this late because she was Head Girl. Her shock increased when she realized that the intruder was not only a Slytherin, but also a male at that. Curfew for wizards was earlier—to protect them from the unscrupulous witches who thought despoiling them was the highest form of entertainment.

There was a reason Jamie never left Sirius alone in the presence of Muggle-born females, after all. They tended to have a less strict view of purity, and wizards were known for being weak-willed, because they wanted to belong to a witch and create a family, to have the hole in their magic filled and feel complete. It was a witch's duty and honor to stay strong and protect the wizards from themselves.

As he walked over to the table, Jamie realized that he was Sirius's younger brother Regulus. His magic was twitchy, and hers reached out to soothe his.

His head snapped up, gray-blue eyes widening with horror. "Don't—" Regulus stared at her for a moment, and then relaxed. "Oh, it's you." The trepidation that had consumed him melted away as if it had never been. He was taller than Sirius, easily over six feet, even though he was only fifteen. Or was it sixteen? She couldn't remember. He wasn't gangly like other wizards his age.

"It's me?" Jamie asked, wondering if she should be offended. What had he meant by that?

Regulus nodded and sank into another chair at the table. He took one of the teacups and filled it with her Earl Grey tea from the teapot. "Yes, it's you. Potter honor and all that. I don't have to worry about being defiled." He didn't even look at her as he gave his explanation. Regulus blew on the steaming tea and then sipped it.

Jamie laughed. That was the most backhanded compliment she had ever gotten. And because of that, it was probably the most sincere as well. His reaction when he felt her magic combined with his words sucked the humor out of the situation as she made the disturbing connection. "Is that a common worry of yours?"

Regulus emptied his cup and set it back on the table, a scowl on his face. It did nothing to diminish his attractiveness. "Thank you for the tea," he said as he stood. "Sorry for bothering you."

"You weren't," Jamie assured him.

As he left the room, Jamie couldn't help but notice that he hadn't answered her question.

Second Time:

"Well, if you're not craving Sirius—and I still don't believe that for a minute—what about Reginald Davies? He's a Ravenclaw, so he'll be smart enough to tutor any kids you have. And his bum is the finest—"

Jamie didn't even bother to excuse herself before storming out of the common room. Peony Patil's words frustrated her to no end. How could they objectify anyone like that? She didn't understand! People were more than the sum of their physical characteristics.

Much to her disgust, Lily Evans—a former Muggle-born—was the only witch in her year who seemed to understand that. Then again, Lily had proven herself to be better than her origins by learning all about her status as a new blood witch. Then, to Jamie's delight, she had comported herself in an honorable manner. Just this past summer, Lily had offered for Severus Snape; the offer had been accepted. Jamie, personally, didn't see what Severus's appeal was, but it was an obvious love match.

She stalked through corridors and down staircases, only stopping once she reached the painting of the fruit. Jamie reached up and tickled the pear; it giggled and opened for her.

Jamie was stunned to see that she wasn't the only occupant in the kitchen. Regulus Black was seated in the same chair he had occupied the last time he had joined her, which was over a month ago. He was staring into his teacup as if its depths held the answers to every question in the universe.

When the portrait closed behind her, he didn't move at all. Even though it shut with a loud thump. It was dangerous for him to be so absorbed in anything and unaware of his surroundings. He was a Black, and would've been taught not to be careless. What was so important that it held all his attention captive?

"Lady Potter!" several house-elves yelled in unison. "What can we be doing for you?"

Regulus's head snapped up, eyes landing on her. A look of surprise covered his face, only to be snuffed by frustration and self-disgust. He stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I lost track of time. Sorry. I should've been gone by now so I wouldn't disturb you."

He was timing his visits so as not to bother her? That was sweet, but unnecessary. Jamie didn't mind company that didn't fawn over her or beg to know with whom she desired to bond. Regulus had never even addressed her by her title, and even though it was a massive breach of manners—ones meant to keep things formal and distant so unwanted and unsafe attachments wouldn't occur—Jamie didn't mind. She had never been fond of bowing, scraping, and kowtowing.

"You can stay if you want," Jamie said, making sure it didn't sound like an order. Because while she could force him to keep her company, she never would. Overruling anyone's free will was wrong on too many levels to count.

The wrinkliest house-elf in the kitchen pushed its way through the others and smiled up at her. "What tea would you be liking tonight, Lady Potter?"

"Jasmine, please," Jamie said. As every house-elf rushed off to fulfill her request, she walked over to the table and claimed the seat she always sat in. It was old and worn, but very comfortable.

"Are you sure?" asked Regulus, attention solely on her face.

"I understand the need to get away from people and situations. That's why I hide away in the kitchen every night," Jamie elaborated, hoping to set him at ease. She didn't like the thought of any wizard feeling uncomfortable in her presence; she was trustworthy. She wasn't going to maul him, regardless of how attractive he was to her. "Otherwise I'd be in Azkaban for maiming heiresses of various pureblood families."

Regulus snorted and flopped gracelessly back into his chair. "What would inspire a maiming from a Potter, I wonder?" He watched her out of the corners of his eyes, as if he expected her to brush his question aside and ignore him.

Jamie lived to disappoint people's expectations. It was one of her favorite pastimes; she wouldn't let other's thoughts and opinions control what she did—not ever. "Sirius is so in love with you, Lady Potter. And his silver eyes remind me of Sickles! He's so fit. Why haven't you bonded with him yet?" Jamie repeated their words in a sickly-sweet tone of voice. "It gets too crass for my tastes from there."

"I hate to break your heart, but Sirius doesn't love you like that. Sure, he would accept if you offered for him, but I think he'd do just about anything to get out of the house and away from our parents at this point—even marry his 'sister'," Regulus said.

"That's good to know, because I would never offer for Sirius. We're of a similar mind when it comes to our sibling relationship," Jamie said. Something about the way Regulus had snidely retorted didn't fit. What was wrong with what he had said? He was silent as she tried to puzzle out what was off. "You know, it's nice how you watch out for him. Sirius thinks you hate him, but I can tell that you don't."

The house-elves set a steaming teapot on the table, and Regulus wordlessly poured them both a cup. He dropped two sugar cubes in his before stirring it. He pushed his old cup off to the side, where a house-elf rushed to collect it. Just when she thought he would stay silent, he finally answered her.

"I do hate him," Regulus stated. "It's not his fault, but I hate him all the same. I won't deny that I love him; he's my brother." Regulus stirred the tea so rapidly that it was in danger of sloshing onto the table. "I do love him . . . but I hate him more than I love him."

Jamie drank the tea he had prepared for her and listened to the contradicting words and emotions. She believed that Regulus thought he was telling the truth, but he had already disproved his words. He loved Sirius more than he hated him.

"Why do you hate him?" inquired Jamie, trying to understand. How could anyone hate Sirius, especially someone that shared a sibling bond with him? Sirius was light and laughter and an excessive amount of luck.

Regulus laughed, if it could be called that. It was a tired, twisted sound. "Because my parents would never consider letting the Dark Lady Brand him with the Dark Mark. He's Heir Black, after all, and is sure to bond well, despite his rebellious eccentricities."

Jamie tried to breathe through the horror that flooded her, but it was difficult. Had his implied confession somehow sucked all the air from the room? No. The house-elves were still chattering and baking desserts. She had heard stories about Lord and Lady Black from Sirius, which had made her dislike them, but now every bit of respect that remained evaporated. "Lady Black is considering giving you to the Dark Lady?" How could any witch even think of forcing her child into servitude to an insane megalomaniac?

"Now you know why I hide away in the kitchen," Regulus whispered, shoulders straight and posture perfect, as if the mere thought of his mother enslaving him didn't carve his heart to ribbons. His magic belied the calm façade; it thrashed about him, discontent and betrayed.

Jamie stretched her magic out and stroked his, unable to help herself. Her desire to comfort others had always been great. His pain was a throbbing, oozing wound that she wanted to heal. Unlike last time, he didn't complain. Regulus leaned into the comfort of her magic and sighed.

She observed him as they drank their tea and ate biscuits in silence. Her mother would never approve of Regulus; he was younger, and, on top of that, his title was Master. Jamie knew her mother would say that she shouldn't bond with someone beneath her, that she had to set the right example as the first real Lady Potter in five generations. And that was nothing compared to how Lady Black would react to receiving an offer for her second son—the spare, she thought snidely—from a Lady of the Light.

But the niggling thought had been given birth, and it didn't appear to be in any hurry to die.

Third Time:

"Well, that's one less thing I have to worry about," Jamie said as she walked away from Margaret Prewett. She had been stunned when the Hufflepuff asked for permission to court Sirius, but readily offered her approval anyway. She knew Margaret to be a kind, gentle, loyal witch of the Light. Jamie could trust Margaret to keep her hands and magic to herself while Sirius decided if he could love her.

Besides, Sirius wasn't the Black brother that consumed her thoughts these days.

Ever since the second time they had shared tea at midnight, which was weeks ago now, Jamie's attention wandered in Regulus's direction. She would make note of whether or not he was at meals, and instructed the house-elves to take him food if he didn't show. When the bruises under his eyes became visible to her sight, despite the glamour charms he was undoubtedly using, she sent him bruise-soothing cream.

In those same weeks, Jamie had seen no less than eighteen different attempts to isolate him. Such efforts were likely an attempt to compromise him into a bonding he didn't desire. The witches were shameless and from all four Houses. Her question the first time she had spoken with him (Is that a common worry of yours?) resounded in her head. Apparently, Regulus had legitimate and numerous reasons to worry about being defiled.

Unluckily for all those witches, Jamie happened to be "on a walk" whenever they thought they might succeed at trapping Regulus. The portraits had become her constant companions in her efforts to keep him safe and give him a break.

Jamie had learned much through her observations.

Regulus always had time for the younger students. If he were busy with something, he would stop what he was doing to help them. It was his O.W.L. year, but he never complained when they interrupted him with questions. He was brilliant with kids and would make a wonderful father. Jamie didn't doubt that in the least. He was also smart—viciously so. She had overheard some of the Ravenclaws complaining about how he had taken all the top marks again, and why wasn't he in Ravenclaw, where he obviously belonged?

It was his magic, though, that sealed her decision.

Regulus's magic was powerful; however, it was uncontrolled. It wasn't Light or Dark. His desperate attempts to disassociate himself from his family and the fate that awaited him had shaded it a pale gray, the color of hoarfrost. He didn't want to be Dark-aligned, but his magic could only go so far in the opposite direction without an anchor. It had reached its limit. Since it was neither Light or Dark, it slipped from his grasp, despite his best efforts to contain it.

If Lady Black bound him to the Dark Lady, all his efforts would be for nothing. His magic would probably skip past Dark and align with Black Magic—the type of magic that twisted Mordred until he became a traitor.

However, Jamie would never bond with a wizard out of pity. Saving a wizard wasn't a good enough reason either. While honor and nobility were important, it wouldn't keep a bond from being loveless and cold. She knew she wouldn't have to worry about that, though. Because Jamie's magic ached to fill the hole in Regulus's; it struggled against her control, wanting to pour out and bathe him in power and safety.

As soon as she realized that, Jamie had meditated on the topic, trying to sort out her thoughts and feelings. That was when she discovered the truth: somewhere along the way, between talking with him, sitting in silence, keeping him safe, and watching him, Jamie had fallen in love with Regulus Black.

Her mother's disappointment would be worth it, if he could love her in return.

"Will he?" Jamie wondered as she entered the kitchen. It was empty of all but the house-elves.

She sat at the table, fiddling with her cup of orange blossom tea. Every time it cooled, one of the house-elves came over and warmed it back up for her. They were quieter tonight, likely sensing her mood. It reminded her of how thoughtful the Potter house-elves were at home; she had a sudden, intense desire for the Yule holiday to arrive more quickly so that she could return home.

"A Knut for your thoughts?" Regulus laughed when she jumped in her seat and spilled the tea, though a house-elf cleaned it right up and handed her another. "Wow, you're more distracted than I thought. Is everything okay?" he asked as he sat beside her.

Jamie gave him all of her attention. He was stunning to look at: high cheek bones, a square jaw with a cleft in his chin, tousled black hair that was longer than her own as it brushed his shoulders, tall and fit, and gray-blue eyes that failed to hide the loneliness he felt. "I'm in love with you," she said, the words rolling off her tongue as if she had spoken them every day for the past one hundred years.

Regulus's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. His magic, though, danced about him, giving her some insight into his heart.

"Well?" she asked, when the silence stretched. Wasn't he going to say anything? Jamie had never confessed to a wizard before, because she had never felt like this before, and his lack of response was unnerving.

"And?"

Jamie's brow furrowed at the short, clipped question. "And what?"

His hands trembled, but she could only see that for a moment, because then he hid them under the table. "You love me, and that's it? Or you love me, and would like to court me? Or you love me, and would like to bond with me?" Regulus wasn't looking at her, and she hated it. What was he thinking? Which of those scenarios, if any, appealed to him? "Or you love me, and would like me to be your nighttime companion for different reasons than sharing tea?"

Flinching from the last question, Jamie forced the hurt down. Regulus had every right to question her intentions. She hadn't clarified her declaration. And it wasn't like he had many positive experiences when it came to witches.

"Yes, I would like you to be my nighttime companion for reasons other than sharing tea," Jamie said honestly. When he hunched down in his seat, which she had never seen him do before, she regretted saying that part first. "But not until we're bonded, Regulus," she added. Jamie caressed her magic against his. "Anything less than a true bonding with you would be blasphemous."

Regulus's whole body shook as he spoke two words she hadn't been expecting. "Prove it."

Jamie blinked in confusion. What did he want her to prove? Whatever it was, she would gladly comply. "What?"

He bit his lip and leaned closer to her. "Prove that you want to bond with me, and not just . . ."

Her heart clenched at the pain in his voice. It seemed that despite the tough front he presented, the countless witches who had attempted to seduce him had managed to damage his view of his self-worth. Well, Jamie would fix that. He wanted proof, huh? Fine. Regulus would get it.

Jamie siphoned her magic from her magical core, requesting more to surface than she ever had before. Then, without pause, Jamie let her magic surge into Regulus's. It spilled down the hole in his magic, flooding the emptiness with power and acceptance. Tears dripped down his face, wonder filled his eyes, and that only encouraged her. So Jamie gave him more, more, more. She gave him more magic than it took to Enchant a broomstick to fly, more than it took to transform into an Animagus, more than it took to lay intermediate wards, and more than she had ever thought she would give her future husband.

But the hole in Regulus's magic was wide and deep and dark, and Jamie wanted it to vanish.

Finally, when her magic just splashed against his, when there wasn't even a speck of empty space, Jamie withdrew her magic back into her core. "Proof enough, Regulus Potter?" she asked with confidence.

Regulus shoved the table out of the way, pulled her onto his lap, and then kissed her for all he was worth. Tears landed on her face, but she didn't wipe them away. She wasn't one of those controlling witches who thought it was disgraceful for wizards to show their emotions. If he was sad, he should cry. If he was happy, he should laugh. However he felt, he was free to express it as he wished. And if he preferred to express his gratitude physically, she felt no inclination to object.

Jamie simply matched his passion with her own, grateful that she had fallen in love with him. Because in finding happiness, she had managed to save Regulus from the Dark and bring him into the Light.