When the Sun and Stars Unite (Jegulus Oneshots)

Stealing The Seeker (Part 1)

Regulus Black loathes James Potter.
Why? Because James Potter is a thief.
He has no problem stealing whatever falls into his greedy fingers.
Regulus's brother. His home. His heart.
So yes, Regulus Black loathes James Potter.
Until he doesn't.

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 Regulus

There.

At first, the glint of gold seems like a glare from the ridiculous hats with mirrors that have become all the rage recently. Zonko's keep selling them as if Regulus's disgust doesn't matter. He would love nothing more than to ban them from all Quidditch matches, but his classmates don't care and continue to wear them, confusing the poor Seeker.

But no, it isn't a reflection of a stray sunbeam that has somehow sneaked past the mass of grey clouds that has rolled in as the match progressed. It flutters and zigzags around in a manner Regulus has learned to recognize too well.

It's the Snitch, hovering near the Ravenclaw tower.

There's only one problem.

How can he get across the Quidditch pitch without alerting the rival team's Seeker to the presence of the flittering sphere?

Regulus is idly zooming on his broomstick on the other side, aware that once he darts for the prize, Mary McDonald, the chirpy, upbeat, annoying girl but a brilliant seeker in her own right, will take notice and beat Regulus to the punch as she's currently within reaching distance of the Snitch.

Tatters of cheers from the platform float in Regulus's direction. Someone must've scored a goal. A quick check reveals it was Potter, of course. Regulus's lips curl with distaste even though his chest tightens and fills with a perplexing mixture of envy and yearning, which makes his revulsion even sharper.

That cocky idiot has talent to spare, and he never misses an opportunity to remind everyone. It is an outrage, really, that Regulus's heart always spasms whenever someone mentions Potter's name or when he glimpses the tall chaser anywhere around Hogwarts, flashing grins in every direction as though he's attempting to replace the enchanted chandeliers. Potter hasn't the foggiest, however, too busy pulling pranks with his mates and charming the pants off his little fan club. Why should he care about the effect he has on Regulus's health as long as he's surrounded by a throng of girls to snog?

No, don't think about Potter. No distractions. Keep your eyes on the prize.

In the two years Regulus has played as the Seeker, he's never let the Snitch escape. Regulus is proud of his record and with good reason. It takes determination, talent, and focus, so he banishes all musings about a particular dark-haired menace and continues tracking the golden ball, which disappeared from its previous location, and now hovers about three feet away from Mary's elbow, taunting Regulus with its unreachability. No way he could get to it first under these circumstances. Feigning disinterest, he drifts up and circles the pitch. Unfortunately, this maneuver brings him onto a collision course with a certain someone Regulus refuses to name.

Potter—fine, he will use the name, he can't keep calling him 'someone'—has the gall to consider this development jolly good fun, at least based on the way he beams at Regulus. He shoots up like a comet, flying over Regulus's head, and really, is it necessary to show off all the bloody time? It's unpleasant enough that Regulus has to deal with his brand of arrogance at school and now at home. The pitch should remain a sacred ground, but then there's nothing sacred to Potter, is there? Not since he considered it his Merlin-given right to insert himself into the Black family matters, first by stealing Sirius, then by nicking Regulus from his own house.