AN: Prompts will be displayed at the bottom to avoid them potentially giving away things.

exposing the underside of an iceberg

AlwaysPadfoot

James Potter wished for nothing more than to have a peaceful breakfast.

He did not appreciate being disturbed, and finally, as per his instruction, his favourite brand of tea had suddenly appeared in the commissary. It hadn't taken much convincing; the Potters were a very powerful family. Even in prison, it terrified people.

James sat alone. He was always the first person into breakfast, and always the final one to leave. This morning, not feeling particularly hungry, James sat quietly with his metal cup of freshly brewed tea and a book he was halfway through completing. He was thankful for the fact that his tea was perfectly made and he was enjoying the overall quiet that Sunday morning had brought.

Today, he had no plans that might sully his good mood. He intended to enjoy the weather outside, finish his book, and write back to Lily.

He was just considering going to acquire another cup of tea when, in his peripheral vision, he noticed another inmate approaching him. Without even stopping reading, James held his hand up and left it there until he came to an appropriate point to stop. He slipped the postcard from Lily he'd been using as a bookmark back between the pages and then glanced up at the visitor to his table. His eyes instantly narrowed upon recognising that it was Sirius Black.

"You better have an excellent reason for being here," James said simply. "I believe last time we spoke—"

"—you told me you'd shove the nearest phallic object so far up my arse I'd be able to taste it."

"Oh, so you do remember?" James responded darkly.

Black must have had a death wish to even think about looking in James' direction. The cocky son of a bitch had come into James' prison acting as though he owned the place; he had needed putting in his place promptly.

"Yes, I do remember," he said, waving a hand as though he wasn't concerned.

A slither of annoyance wrapped itself up in the forefront of James' thoughts. He automatically clocked the prison guards and weighed up his options should this situation get out of hand.

"But the thing is," Black continued, "I need a favour."

James threw his head back and laughed, drawing attention to them from inmates on nearby tables. Black was asking for a favour — from him? He had to be fucking kidding. When James' gaze returned to the grey-eyed man, Black's facial expression hadn't changed at all, so he was being deadly serious.

"Sit," James said.

He might as well find out what the hell Black wanted, James thought to himself. If anything, it might benefit James in some way. He quite enjoyed having information on others.

The other inmate reluctantly sat opposite him at the table. James noted that Black had dark circles under his eyes and that his body language had taken a turn towards withdrawn. The Black that James was used to was dramatic and animated all of the time, something James had worked hard to tune out after their initial run in. So, there was something wrong, and it was taking a toll on him — it had to be for him to come to James, of all people, for help.

"What's the favour?"

"My brother is up the hill," Black said.

James leant back in his seat. Black had a brother in minimum security whilst he was stuck down here in max with the lowlifes, now that was interesting information.

"I know you know how to get up there — I need to see him," Black continued.

"Look, Black, even if I wanted to help you, which I don't, that sort of favour doesn't come cheap," James responded. "If you leave now, I'll let you go with all your teeth."

"I have money—"

"—not good enough," James interrupted. "I have so much money that I don't really care for it."

It was good to say. It was always good to say. Now, if Black was intelligent, he would quit whilst he was ahead and get up and leave. But he didn't; he stayed firmly in his seat, his eyes never leaving James.

"What do you care for?" Black asked.

James was far too clever to divulge what he truly cared about — after all, knowledge was power. He cocked his head, observing a desperate glint in Black's eyes that he had never seen before. James suspected that Black was desperate, and if anything broke a man, it was being withheld from something that he had the burning desire to do. James either wanted to see Black use his brain to figure out that he wasn't going to give him the information he was asking for, or he wanted to see him break. The latter would be far more entertaining, but would probably spoil his hassle-free Sunday.

Somewhat disappointingly, it didn't take him long to click on. Realising that James was not going to help him, Black bashed his fist on the table. "Fuck you, Potter. You really are a cold-hearted dick."

The inmate stood up so fast the table moved. James watched him, still perfectly calm and unaffected by the other inmate's actions, as Black strode away leaving the room via the main door.

James rolled his eyes skyward. The fact that he was a cold-hearted dick wasn't new information; he'd always been the same. You didn't survive prison by being the kind, forgiving type. James found himself unfocused, drumming his fingers on the metal table top as hushed conversations bled back into the room. It had gone quiet after Black's little show and now people would be watching, waiting to see what James did next.

After a short moment of contemplation, James rose from the table and calmly made his way into the kitchen.

He silently moved over to a man peeling potatoes in the corner, leant against the counter behind him, and cleared his throat. The squat mousy haired man stopped what he was doing and span on the spot, peeler raised in his hand. James wondered in amusement just how the man thought he'd use a peeler as a weapon. It was certainly inventive

"Pettigrew, I have a job for you," James said calmly.

"What is it, JP?"

James pulled a face at the nickname, fixing him with a glare. "Never use that nickname again. I need you to get some information for me."

James explained quickly and quietly that he wanted details on the new inmate, surname Black, up the hill in minimum security. Pettigrew raised an eyebrow but didn't ask any questions — that was what James liked about him. He did his job and James made sure he was well looked after in return. It was a perfect working relationship. Pettigrew mulled it over for a moment. James knew that the inmate didn't want to seem too eager to please, or too greedy in knowing he was lining his pockets for fifteen years time when he finally got out.

Eventually, he turned back to the potatoes he was peeling, selecting another. "Give me twenty-four hours."

James nodded to himself and decided to busy himself with a walk around the yard. The fresh air would give him some time to clear his head and decide how best to deal with Black should he dare to bother him again anytime soon.

Despite his sway within the prison, the only thing that James hadn't be able to avoid was having a roommate. He'd spent a great deal of time slowly getting rid of them, that was until he was assigned Remus Lupin a year and a half ago.

Lupin had a long sentence, one that could only really be acquired by committing murder. That being said, he was extremely withdrawn. Whilst initially, James had been vehemently against having his seventeenth roommate, Lupin had quickly faded into the background. Their first conversation had involved the brown-haired man with scars on his face telling James he wasn't scared of him, despite his reputation, but had no intention of getting in his way. And he hadn't. Lupin did very little and said very little. He spent his time either working in the library or reading on his bunk.

Only a couple of months into Lupin's assignment to his bunk, James noticed that he disappeared during the night. Where he went, James wasn't sure at first, until a rumour quickly spread that a fighting ring had started up.

Remus Lupin was unbeaten.

After that, James had grown to like him, and Lupin had become quite resourceful. The man knew his way around the prison at night and had yet to be caught. James had begun to use his bunk mate's knowledge in return for trade and money.

On this particular Sunday, James had returned to his bunk to find Lupin with his nose in a large book, written in Spanish. Exchanging a nod, the two men read in silence on their separate bunks until they were disturbed in the late afternoon by Mad-Eye Moody. The prison guard had a glass eye and yet still seemed to see trouble starting, even when he was looking in a completely different direction.

"Potter, come with me," he said gruffly.

James laid his book in his lap and looked up curiously. "Can I ask what this is regarding?"

"You have a visitor."

James arched an eyebrow, marked his space in his book, and then stood to follow Moody. Neither of them exchanged a word as they walked in unison. The only visitors he got were Lily and his father, and since it was after visitation hours, he suspected it was the latter. It had been months since his father had graced him with his presence — he must want something.

The visitation room was empty and immediately James spotted his father sat behind a glass panel at the end of the room. James took a breath, attempted to flatten his hair, and sat on the bolted down stool. Taking in his father's pristine appearance, James felt inadequate as usual, especially when his father looked at him through slightly narrowed eyes that nobody else would notice. He lifted the corded phone to his right at the same time his father did.

"Father, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Don't be sarcastic, it's unbecoming," he responded, holding the phone slightly away from his ear, clearly worried that he might catch something from the receiver. "I need you to do something."

Of course, James thought to himself. His father always needed something, he never wanted to know how James was doing. It was not something he would ever bring up, he valued his pride more than that, so instead, he nodded.

"What is it?"

"There's an inmate in minimum security that blew the whistle on Riddle Inc.," he explained.

Riddle Incorporated was his father's biggest competitor, and in James' opinion, their innovation far succeeded his own fathers. Unfortunately, the way that they acquired their ideas was rumoured to be very, very illegal. WHilst his father was hardly on the straight and narrow, Riddle Inc. was next level in comparison. No doubt whatever his father was about to ask of him would be too.

"The problem is, his identity is protected, and Riddle got to the information before we could. It was all covered up sharpish." Father explained. "I want you to find out who it is and get the information they know for me."

"Well, if that's all—" James quickly cut himself off at the glare he received and then sighed. "I'll see what I can do; it's not exactly easy to do what you're asking."

"I'm sure you'll manage," his father said quickly. "You are my son after all."

James cursed his father's ego. He had always thought him a waste of space, ever since James had been expelled from his first boarding school. James supposed this was just his father's way of offering a rare opportunity to prove he wasn't totally useless. Despite knowing that was wishful thinking, James still seemed to waste his time to try and prove he wasn't completely idiotic to his father. At the same time though, when they spoke, he regularly found himself daydreaming about wrapping the cord of the receiver around his father's neck and slowly tightening it until he stopped breathing.

"I'll get it done."

James hung the receiver up without even a goodbye and returned to Moody outside of the visitation room. Another journey in complete silence allowed James to mull over his thoughts. As sadistic as they were, he still managed to formulate the beginnings of a plan to get to this whistleblower, despite a particularly inventive plot of murdering his father with a fork.

Moody abandoned him near the recreation room and as soon as he was out of sight, Pettigrew fell into step beside James.

"Regulus Arcturus Black, age twenty-four," he began, as they walked. "Sentenced to five years and ten months for whistleblowing."

As soon as the word left his mouth, James grabbed Pettigrew's shirt and pushed him sideways into the darkness of the empty library. The smaller man squirmed and then pushed James' arm off.

"What the fuck?" he hissed.

"Did you say whistleblowing?" James demanded.

"Yeah," Pettigrew responded, straightening his shirt. "There was a lot of redacted information, but he's a former employee of—"

"Riddle Inc," James said at the same time as Pettigrew did.

The slightly unnerved man frowned at James. "Yeah, how did you know?"

James rolled his eyes; the other inmate could be a bit thick sometimes, despite his proclivity for digging up information. He was the only person who had figured out that James' father was one of the front men for the Phoenix Company. James' arrest had not been made public, therefore it had been kept very quiet and he had been strictly instructed to not tell a soul who he was. Luckily Pettigrew wasn't clever enough to initiate any blackmail; a simple threat from James had done the trick to keep him quiet. It had panned out quite well, all things considered.

James clapped a hand on Peter's back, making his whole body jerk slightly. "Never mind, Pettigrew. I'll sort out the usual payment for you. Thanks for this."

"No problem," he responded.

Leaving Pettigrew in the dark of the library, James walked quickly in the direction of Block G. He was thinking; he'd figured out an in with Regulus Black, and that was his brother. Passing his bunk, James made his way to the upper level. He stopped outside G16 — Black's bunk — and leaned against the doorframe.

Upon seeing him, Black's blonde bunkmate immediately sat up apprehensively.

"Leave," James said to him.

James took great pleasure in watching the blonde scramble to his feet and trip over his own feet in his efforts to scramble from the cell. His gaze moved to Black, who hadn't even twitched from where he was sat cross-legged doing a sudoku. He was mildly impressed that the Black had acquired some dignity since their last set-to.

"If you're here to beat the shit out of me, or anything otherwise," he said, his eyes focused on his puzzle, "then I'd really rather you didn't."

"On the contrary," James began, folding his arms, "I'm actually here to talk about that favour you asked for."

Finally, Sirius Black's eyes snapped up from his puzzle, and he put it to the side immediately. His eyes were narrowed as he stood. "You know, I really am not going to appreciate it if you use my little brother to play some fucked up mind game."

"Calm down, Black," James responded cooly, noticing the man's hands were clenched, and he was clearly fiercely protective of his family. "I am willing to take you up to minimum security to see your brother, for a favour, of course."

"No offence, Potter, but I'm not into those type of deals. I'd rather blow old Mad-Eye than the man who fractured three of my ribs within a week of me being here," Black said.

James scoffed and held up his hand to stop Black from talking. This was not exactly what he'd envisioned; he'd expected him to be a little more compliant, considering James was doing him a favour.

"That's enough." James was starting to lose his temper, and he was more than willing to go alone and extract the information a different way. "Look, if you insist on being a sarcastic little shit, I will assume you are no longer interested in seeing your brother and I will take my leave before you really piss me off."

The two men locked eyes, and for a long moment, James was sure that Black wasn't going to say another word. He shook his head and turned to leave.

"Fine," James shrugged.

"Wait." Black let desperation seep into that one word and James smirked to himself before turning back to Black, emotion absent from his face. "What's the favour?"

"That, Black, is neither here nor there since I haven't decided, so think of it as an 'I owe you'," James responded. "You are either in, or you are out. Decide, now. Once I leave this cell I will not be coming back to offer this again."

Black ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"Okay. I'm in."

James nodded, turning to leave once again. "Oh, and Black? You're not my type."

The following Wednesday, James had organised a meeting between the two people he trusted the most, and Black. Since Remus Lupin's domain was the library, he supplied the group of them with a key, and he, Pettigrew, and James were sat at one of the circular tables out of the view of the doors and glass windows.

They all seemed quite calm, with the exception of Black who had been pacing back and forth until Pettigrew arrived late.

"Sit down, Black," James said eventually when Black didn't join them at the table. "You're wearing out the carpet."

The man glared at James and then reluctantly slid into the remaining chair. The grey-eyed man had been eyeing up both Lupin and Pettigrew with scepticism but had yet to comment on their presence. To James, it was clear that Black was uncomfortable with more people being involved; it was more people that knew that he had family he cared about within spitting distance, should Black cross anyone.

For a long moment, no one spoke. That made it easy for James to take control of the room and conversation.

"Right, Black," he said. "I want to make it clear that whilst I trust Pettigrew and Lupin, I don't trust you, which means you will have very little to do in regards to this operation."

"Oh, you've made it very clear that you don't trust me," Black responded. "But the guy who peels spuds in the kitchen, and Mr I-don't-associate-with-anyone are your best friends."

He jerked his finger in direction of Pettigrew and Lupin. James noted that Lupin tensed ever so slightly; his amber eyes narrowing. The roommates met each other's gaze and James gave Lupin a discreet nod. The man turned to Black. "Maybe I just don't associate with people like you."

"Bite me," Black snapped.

Lupin leant forward, his voice even, unwavering. "Come a little closer, darling, and I just might."

Pettigrew watched, his eyes filled with intrigue. He looked like he would be ready to place bets if the two started fighting. Lupin and Black held each other's gaze for an unusually long moment. James cleared his throat and then Lupin leant back, a ghost of a smirk on his face.

"Remus." James was going to start using his first name; he deserved that for being a bearable person. "You mentioned you had a potential solution to moving around the prison unnoticed earlier?"

"Yes, I have an in with one of the guards," he responded.

James had been expecting them to have to move in the shadows — all stealth. But if Remus had a guard on his side, that would really make their job a lot easier. Everyone was curious; the looks on the other two men's faces told James a thousand and one things — intrigue was definitely one of them at this moment in time. James gestured for Remus to continue when Pettigrew asked how exactly he had an in.

"I shagged her."

James was impressed, but Black pulled a face like he was sucking on a lemon.

"That doesn't mean you have an in," he countered.

"On the contrary, Black," said Remus. "I'm an excellent shag; I can convert absolutely anyone to my way of thinking."

Black huffed, his cheeks colouring slightly, but he didn't respond to Remus. This revelation allowed them to find a potential opening for their journey to minimum security. Peter checked Nymphadora Tonks, the guard's shift pattern on a contraband phone he always seemed to have. James didn't question it; people got what they wanted — phones, cigarettes, drugs — it didn't matter to him. Tonks worked nights quite regularly, leaving Sunday as their next feasible opening. James weighed up whether that was enough time.

"She works nights on Friday too," Black pointed out, peering over Peter's shoulder. "We can go then."

"We will not be going then." James refused point blank to go in with no plan; he needed plan A, B, and C, at least, before he did something like this. "Forty-eight hours is not enough time to prepare."

"Surely, if we—"

"—I said no, Black. Unless, of course, you want to spend the next two months in solitary and have five more years added to your sentence?"

"I hear you; I get it."

James wanted to roll his eyes, but for once, Black seemed to have realised his mistake in suggesting they jump the gun. His arms were raised slightly in surrender. For a moment, James envisioned what he might do should he have a sibling he felt the need to protect. Black was going to a lot of trouble, but his impatience would be their downfall if James didn't set him straight.

"Just, be aware," James said slowly, "as much as I loathe to admit it, there are a lot of things I can't prevent should we get caught."

Black nodded, seeming to understand.

The four men returned to the plan. James dished out jobs they need to do before Saturday morning if they were going to do this on Sunday night. If they couldn't get the things they needed then they would have to postpone this until the following Thursday. Neither Black, nor James' father, would be happy to wait that long, and frankly, James had no interest in spending more time than needed with Black. That being said, the man was keen to take part in some of the execution. James respected that he wanted to do his part, even if he thought that Black was an utter pillock. Giving in, James gave him some menial tasks — nothing too difficult; nothing he could fuck up.

By the time the four went their separate ways, James was confident they could pull this off.

Dinner on Sunday was a quiet affair.

James had acquired his usual table, a semi-edible meal in front of him. Peter had made sure that they all had the better portions of things, and had been hoarding the 'good' food just for the group of them. Remus was sat alone at the end of a table to James' right. He had a book in one hand whilst he ate, not looking up. Sirius — no longer accepting being called Black since they were working together — had a bounce in his step as he crossed the canteen. He had just collected his tray of food and he nodded at James as he passed his table, before finding a spot to sit.

Sipping his water, James closed his eyes forcing himself to think and block out the sound around him. He'd memorised their movements, their route, their timings. There was some leeway, but not much.

James drummed his fingers on the table — everything had to go right.

He waited impatiently for dinner to finish and then fell into step beside Remus as he headed back in the direction of their bunk. Remus seemed calm, that being said, he regularly moved around the prison at night so he would be in his element. James appreciated his beauty sleep; being awake most of the night was not something that was appealing to him.

"Confident, James?" Remus asked upon reaching their bunk.

"Always am," James responded.

They still had over three hours until they planned to meet with Peter and Sirius. James wasn't sure whether to try and get a few hours sleep, or whether to stay awake. He watched as Remus selected a book from the stack on his bedside cabinet and then sat facing James.

"You look distracted," he commented before he opened the book to the page he'd marked with a slither of light blue card.

James shrugged. "Big night tonight."

"I have a question," Remus said.

Cocking his head, James raised an eyebrow. This was out of character for Remus; he wasn't usually curious, nor did he start conversation regularly.

"Go ahead," James said warily.

"Why are you taking Black to minimum security if you can just go and interrogate his brother yourself?"

James would question how the fuck Remus knew about his need to speak with Regulus Black, but honestly, he wasn't sure he would get a straight answer. He simply narrowed his eyes questioningly at his long-time bunkmate, hoping that he would continue.

"I mean it seems unnecessary," Remus continued.

"Why is that?" James asked.

"You don't like Black."

"I like having people owe me."

Remus shrugged and then lay back on his bed to read, leaving James to mull over his words. Truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure why he'd chosen to include Black; why he'd chosen to involve more people in this wild goose chase for information which James wasn't entirely sure he would get. In six years he hadn't changed, but now, he felt like this was an out-of-character move for him. Maybe, he was subconsciously bored, or perhaps he was getting sick.

Shifting back to lean against the wall, James closed his eyes and crossed his legs. He was going to meditate and cast the doubt out from his mind.

He didn't need anything distracting him later.

James wasn't sure when exactly he fell asleep, but he woke to Remus shaking his shoulder gently. They quickly changed and prepared to leave, neither of them saying a word to one another.

Peter and Sirius met them in the corridor outside the TV room. After a few mumbled greetings, they moved in unison down the corridor. Sirius watched their six and Remus led the way, pausing at the exact right moments to let guards move past their position. They reached the doors leading out into the yard ahead of schedule and Remus was staring at his watch as they waited. Sirius hopped impatiently from foot to foot whilst Peter looked over his shoulder, keeping watch just in case things changed.

James found himself apprehensive as time ticked on. They were waiting for the guard that Remus had shagged to buzz them into to yard and subsequently into tunnels that would get them to Minimum.

A noise filled James' ears and Remus pushed the door open.

The cool night's breeze danced over James exposed skin immediately making him regret not wearing a jacket over his long-sleeved thermal. Being last out, he let the door drop closed behind him and waved the others to the tunnel gate.

Plenty of rumours circulated about the exact reasoning behind the tunnels that ran between the two facilities. One was that there were pipes that pumped water up the hill to Minimum Security. A more extreme rumour was that they had used it to transport bodies of prisoners that had been put to death or had died in prison, but James thought it was more likely to be the former.

Somehow, the tunnels were colder than outside.

"Jesus, fuck," Sirius muttered. "It's fucking freezing. Regulus better appreciate this; I feel like my dick's gonna drop off."

"God, I hope not," Remus responded, before lowering his voice to James. "I've seen it in the showers, and just — wow."

James shook his head with a small smile. Whilst he'd realised Remus was quite the fighter, James hadn't realised he was such a flirt, nor that he was into guys as well as girls. He needed to up his observational skills. Beginning a mental list in his head of tasks to fill his free time, the group of four walked the two-kilometre tunnel in relative silence. Sirius fell into step beside James, the other two men trailing ahead.

"What do you want to get off your chest?" James asked, knowing that was the reason he had hung back.

"I just want to say—"

"Is this going to be cheesy?"

"Shut up, Potter," Sirius responded. "Let me thank you without wanting to punch you in the face."

James loved getting that sort of reaction out of people. His father had been so vacant of emotion bringing him up that even a hint of an annoyance from someone felt like an achievement. Gesturing for Sirius to continue, the other man rolled his eyes.

"Thanks for making this happen," Sirius said. "My brother means the world to me; my family wasn't exactly normal. The fact that he's ended up in this shithole feels wrong to me."

"Minimum is nothing in comparison to Max," James responded, hoping that this wouldn't turn into a heart-to-heart.

James had mostly managed to avoid any conversation which would mean he might have to unlock whatever dusty corner of his brain had all his feeling in. They were not a good thing to show in a place like this; people with emotions made enemies fast. Sirius shrugged off his response, stating that was probably a good thing for Regulus.

"Look, I don't want to go back to us holding a grudge against each other after this," Sirius continued. "I want to call a truce; I can't spend the next fifteen odd years dwelling on the first fifteen days here every time I see you about."

James considered that a fair thing to want to do so instead of responding he turned and offered his hand to Sirius. The other man hesitated and then gripped James' hand, giving a firm handshake.

"James, Sirius, stop holding hands back there and hurry up," Peter called. "The entrance is up ahead."

Sirius pulled back, sticking his hand in his pockets broke apart and they caught up with the other two men. Remus was hovering by the doors, his ear right up against the metal. Their window was a few minutes away according to their schedule. James and Remus had synced their watches yesterday to make sure neither was running slow. Everything had to be precise so the group didn't come face to face with a guard. If they missed this window, they wouldn't have another for nearly forty minutes.

James had only been in minimum security a handful of times, and only one of those times had been under the supervision of someone within the prison system. He noticed very little had changed once the group got inside the facility. The corridors resembled those more familiar to a school building; notice boards displayed activities and workshops that were available; in the dim light, it felt warmer than the dull grey paintwork of the buildings down the hill. It was like they actually had hope that the inmates up here would get out and be normal members of society, unlike the ruffians in Max. It was dark and all architecture was great architecture after sunset so James liked to believe that it looked shittier in daylight.

A muttered swear word brought James out of his thoughts and his head snapped to Remus, who had pressed himself closer to the walls. The tallest man waved them to do the same and James felt his heartbeat pick up as they did so.

His father would kill him if he ended up in solitary before he could get any information from Sirius' brother.

James watched Remus, whose eyes were flickering to his watch every so often. He had obviously spotted someone in the adjacent corridor who wasn't supposed to be there. They all waited — all holding their breath — until finally Remus leant forward and gestured that the coast was clear.

The delay had put them at least thirty seconds behind, but that could easily be rectified if they picked up the pace. James hurried them forward from the back of the group. Peter had done his research and found out exactly where they would find Regulus Black. Luckily, the younger Black hadn't been assigned to a communal block yet, so James hadn't had to call in on a favour to get hold of him. Regulus had been assigned to an overflow room — he had no roommates. James considered these elements luck of the draw; it would not have been so easy otherwise.

The large room was in darkness but as they slipped through the door, the shape of a man sat upon one of the six lower bunks.

"Who's there?"

There was a slight hint of fear in Regulus' voice, but James was sure none of the others would have picked up on it.

Sirius stepped forward from beside Remus. "Regulus?"

"Sirius?" Regulus sounded taken aback before hissing a response. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Peter lit up the room with the torch on his phone and James was finally able to assess Regulus' appearance. Just in regulation pyjama bottoms and a long-sleeved white top, James could tell that he was the type that visited the gym regularly, the type that potentially did triathlons for fun. He was shorter and slimmer than his brother, though the two shared the dark-coloured hair and a constant look of haughty disdain.

Remus, Peter, and James sat together on one of the spare bunks whilst Sirius and Regulus talked in low voices.

The brothers were — unfortunately — quite good at making their voices indistinguishable and James was infuriated by his lack of supersonic hearing. What he did notice, however, was that every so often, Regulus would look over at him. James knew it was him, and not the other two boys, that Regulus was looking at him with curiosity that was more than just general intrigue. This was something James hadn't been expecting and he didn't like not knowing the reasoning behind people's actions.

Remus and James checked their watches simultaneously; there were eight minutes left before they absolutely had to be gone.

"Sirius," James said, causing both Blacks to turn to him in unison. "You need to wrap it up."

Sirius nodded and the two went back to their conversation, their voices no longer as hushed as before. James listened as they wished each other luck and said their goodbyes. They clearly were close, and James was slightly jealous that he had no siblings. This time they were going to leave one by one. Remus would go first; James was confident that, should anything happen, he would be able to deal with it. Remus would be followed by Peter, then Sirius, and lastly James — allowing himself some time to talk to Regulus.

With only Sirius and James left, Regulus stood to join them close to the door.

"I take it that this won't be regular visit?" he asked.

"Sorry, brother," Sirius said. "This is more of a one-time thing."

Regulus' eyes fixed on James. "That's a shame."

James cocked his head slightly. He suddenly had a feeling that this conversation that he was about to have with Regulus was going to be far more interesting than he had originally imagined. Holding the younger Black's gaze, James lifted his watch to check the time.

"Time to go, Sirius. Do not stop for anything."

With one last goodbye, Sirius slipped through the door, leaving Regulus and James alone in the darkened room together.

"James Potter, now, I was expecting you to make an appearance far earlier than this."

James arched an eyebrow. "You were, were you?"

Regulus nodded, a sly smile on his lips. "I am not an idiot James. I know who your father is; I know what you've come here to find out, and you will be happy to know that I don't intend to withhold that information from you."

"Well, I am glad we're on the same page at least," James responded.

"However," Regulus began, "I would like a favour in return."

James confessed himself surprised that Regulus was so confident and obviously more intelligent than his older brother. But what didn't surprise him a bit was that Regulus was ready to trade the information that James needed for something in return. People were mostly the same — selfish.

"Of course," James said smoothly. He moved forward towards the man, who did not falter at him closing the gap between them. "What exactly would that favour be?"

Suddenly, the expression on Regulus' face changed to a far more serious one, almost vulnerable in the dimly lit room.

Regulus held his hand out to James, palm up. "Hold my hand?"

James had not been expecting that at all. He'd been expecting unrealistic demands, money perhaps, but not any form of physical contact. The air was thick with tension, but James had a job to do. He intertwined his fingers with Regulus'. The young Black's hands were soft and warm. The skin on skin contact was something James hadn't had in a long time. Perhaps that had something to do with it — Regulus simply craving human touch. That being said, James hadn't realised how much he missed it until now.

Regulus closed his eyes for a long moment and exhaled shakily as the two men held hands.

When he let go, for some strange reason, the loss hit James hard. Why had simply holding hands with another person affected him so much? He shook it off and, all of a sudden, the confident Regulus was back. It was jarring.

"Riddle Inc. is doing human trials in secret; it's having unimaginable effects on those involved," he said. "They're looking to develop some sort of drug that allows people to speed up the way the brain processes things, and honestly, I'm sure they're close, but so many people have died all for the sake of creating some sort of advanced race."

James blinked. He hadn't expected it the information to be so serious. Running a hand through his hair, James turned, checking his watch. He barely had two minutes left.

"Your father is welcome to contact me; I know you don't have a lot of time," Regulus added.

"Is that the long and short of it?" James asked.

"It is."

James hesitated, debating whether he could risk spending a few more minutes here before he decided it wasn't worth it. Regulus was watching him hesitantly now, as though he was expecting James to do something unpredictable. He only had thirty seconds left until he had to leave and he couldn't think straight — why could he still feel the lingering touch of Regulus' hand? He swore lightly under his breath, checked his watch one more time, and then turned back to Regulus.

"That will have to do for now," he said simply, even though everything suddenly felt far too complex.

James moved to the door, waiting for his window to leave when Regulus spoke quietly behind him. "Thank you, James."

Turning, James nodded curtly, before he slipped from Regulus' room and walked fast back in the direction of the tunnel that connected the two facilities. He felt uncomfortable with the feelings that seemed to have broken out from the locked away section of his brain. Loneliness was not something he experienced; he was very familiar with spending time alone — being lonely should not be something James was feeling. He forced himself to think about his current predicament, and that was getting back to Max without being caught.

Casting out all thoughts of the conversation between him and Regulus, James focused on the task at hand instead.

The memory of Regulus' touch lingered over the following days.

James found himself becoming more and more irritated because he couldn't grasp the reasoning behind what he was feeling. And then, with his father coming for visitation, James felt like he was teetering on the cusp of punching someone. Everyone seemed to realise this as well because the other inmates seem to be giving him a wide berth.

Besides his annoyance at himself, James had noticed that Remus and Sirius had been sitting alongside one another more regularly since their escapade up the hill at the weekend. Even Peter had left the sanctuary of the kitchen once or twice to join them. James noted their camaraderie — their sudden closeness — and found himself thinking about it regularly the more time he spent alone. Regulus had triggered a need inside him that James hadn't had before.

He walked towards the visitation room, despite not wanting to have any contact with his father today.

Old Mad-Eye was on duty and nodded James through. There weren't many other inmates in the room and James' father — as always — had selected the booth close to the wall.

James dropped into the chair, startling his father, and picked up the phone. He waited for his father to mirror his actions, impatient to get this over and done with. Feeling as though his father knew this, James watched as he studied him through the reinforced plastic before picking up the receiver.

"You look annoyed, James; did you not get the information I need?"

Of course, James thought to himself. His father's first thought was always how he might be inconvenienced by things. James distinctly remembered that the first words out of his father's mouth after his mother had passed away had been: who will care for James whilst I am working? It certainly hadn't been him. James realised he hadn't responded and cleared his throat.

"Why am I not surprised that you don't believe that I have the capability to do the things you are asking?" James replied pointedly.

"Son, you were moronic enough to end up here."

"I took the fucking fall for you," James hissed, his teeth bared. "So don't you dare bring that up."

His father simpled watched him as though he were at a zoo, observing the animals, and that pissed James off to no end. James wanted to smash a hole through the screen that separated them just to land a punch before he was dragged away to solitary.

"What did this Regulus Black tell you?" his father asked after the silence had dragged on between them so long that James thought he might just get up and leave.

"Your competitor is running very illegal human trials in order to accelerate up the evolution process." James stood, the phone still in his hand as he continued. "If you have the audacity to return here with another task for me, I swear, the day I leave this prison will be your final one on this planet."

James slammed the phone down so hard, that as he approached the door, Mad-Eye barked a warning at him.

"You're going to get written up for that, Potter."

Spreading his arms wide, James turned to the guard with anger coursing through his veins. "I don't give a fuck, old man. Write me up twice for all I care."

He swivelled on his heel, striding away from the visitation room, grateful for Mad-Eye's slight limp that would have prevented him from giving chase. James was furious; his vision was tunnelling and he was ready to snap at anyone who got in his way. With his mood as volatile as it was, James knew that the best thing to do was to get himself into a space on his own, otherwise, he'd be in solitary before lunch. Upon seeing him coming from where he was sat on his bunk, Remus nudged Sirius and the two left before James had reached the room. They both gave him a slight nod as they passed, which James didn't reciprocate. Right now, he didn't care to think about them.

He barely got chance to collapse on the bunk before a bell rang out signalling that a count would take place.

"Fuck." James felt his composure slipping as the word forced itself from his lips. "Fucking fuck."

He had to focus on something. James punched the breeze block wall, feeling his knuckles crunch. Gritting his teeth, he moved outside where people were returning to their bunks for the count. James closed his eyes and with his hands clasped behind his back, he focused solely on the throbbing in his hand.

He was going to get through this. James didn't need help; he didn't need Regulus to hold his hand, or the other men to be his friends. He was perfectly capable of looking out for himself.

James could do anything.

Comp/Challenge & Prompts:

GGE 2018: For Ned (also a belated Happy Birthday!) — hope you enjoy this!

Assignment #4: Wizarding Geography, Task 2 - Write about joining forces.

Insane House Challenge: 514. Action - Choking

365 Prompts Challenge: 161. Item - Postcard

FanFiction Resolutions Challenge: That 5K one

Play More Cards: 20. Free Cell - Prison!AU

Lent Challenge: O12. Use someone's name forty times in a fic. [Regulus]

Serpent Challenge: 27. Eyelash viper - (dialogue) "Come a little closer, darling."

Writing Club [CYB]: 2. (pairing) James/Regulus, 1. (character) Remus Lupin

Writing Club [Liza's Loves]: 6. Red Stag - Write about James Potter

Writing Club [JJQ]: 12. All architecture is great architecture after sunset

Word Count: 7560 — not inc. notes, titles, or ANs.