Me (taylor's version)

The storm comes in the middle of the night. It hits violently, shaking the windows as rain pummels the panes. It wouldn’t normally bother James or Regulus, but some time after the first crash of thunder hits, there’s a soft knock on their bedroom door.

It’s Regulus who pads across the floor to open it. He’s unsurprised to find Harry on the other side, blanket clutched in one hand and stuffed black cat in the other.

“Papa,” he says softly, “the storm is so scary.”

“I know, little love.” Regulus bends to hook his hands under Harry’s arms. He hauls him up into his arms and settles him on his hip. “Do you want to sleep with us or do something else?”

Harry pushes his glasses up his nose. “Do you think Dad will care if we play the Switch?”

Regulus grins. “I think we should ask if he wants to join us. Hm?”

“Okay,” Harry whispers, arms coming around Regulus’ neck.

James stirs, bleary eyes opening a fraction when Regulus pushes at his shoulder. “What’s wrong, love?”

“The storm. It’s scaring Harry. We’re going to go play the Switch for a little while until it’s over. Do you want to come?”

“Can you make your special hot chocolate?”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “Yes, I can make the special hot chocolate.”

The three of them make their way downstairs to the living room, where James sets up the Switch while Harry sits in the middle of the couch. He’s barely five, smart as a whip, but loud noises and violent storms have bothered him since he was a baby.

Regulus makes three mugs of hot chocolate—no marshmallows in his, exactly six in Harry’s, and half the bag in James’.

“Thank you, baby,” James says into the curve of Regulus’ shoulder when he comes into the kitchen for his and Harry’s. “I know you have work tomorrow, so this isn’t ideal.”

“It’s fine.” Regulus passes him his mug of hot chocolate. “When I saw the weather report, I figured this might be the way our evening went. I told work I’ll be in late, if at all.”

James’ lips quirk at the corners. “You know, you’re a better father than you give yourself credit for.”

Regulus ducks his head, heat rising up his neck to his cheeks. “I’m alright at it.”

“Hey. Look at me?” James finger hooks under his chin to tilt his face. “We’re both still learning, but you’re doing great. Lily says it, too. She told me last weekend when I went to pick up Harry. He loves you, Reg.” James’ expression is tender. “Sometimes I think he loves you more than his own biological parents, for what it’s worth.”

“As he should. I’m far more fun.” Regulus kisses him, lingering. It’s almost two in the morning, and they’ll likely be awake until four, but Regulus doesn’t mind, if it’s James and Harry who are the reason. “Now, come on. I need to kick your ass in Mario Kart.”

“My love, you will never beat me. But you can keep dreaming, if you want. Or if it helps.”

“Harry believes in me,” Regulus huffs. “Don’t you, little love?”

Harry takes the mug of hot chocolate from Regulus and glances between them, green eyes wide behind his round glasses.

“Did you really just pit my own son against me?” James mutters, settling on the couch beside Harry. “That’s low, love. Even for you.”

“I’m just saying,” Regulus replies, reaching for his Switch remote, “that he believes in me even though you don’t.”

“I believe in you!”

“Then let me win for once!”