James Potter was a very easy person to dislike. If you were to ask the Slytherin house, there would be an almost unanimous decision in disliking James Potter. He was, after all, extremely proud to the point of arrogance, greatly overrated for his Quidditch ability, and an immature prankster. To top it off, he was also a blood traitor who spent most of school years chasing around a Mudblood and giving her a false sense of confidence.

James Potter was very easy to dislike, but Regulus Black did not dislike him. In spite of how he strutted around Hogwarts, how his superiority radiated off him in the Quidditch pitch, and how he slobbered over Lily Evans as if she was the Holy Grail, Regulus did not dislike James Potter.

He hated him. He hated him with every fiber of his being, to the point where his face would contort in rage every time he heard his name. He hated him for one simple reason.

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was not an easy place to grow up. The pristinely tidy house, kept that way by the ingratiating house elf, radiated darkness in every shadowy corner. It was not warm, nor was it welcoming. Regulus loved his parents very much, but they weren't an easy bunch to be around. The only way to appease them, he learned quickly, was to agree with everything they said unequivocally. It was difficult being a child in Grimmauld Place, and Regulus doubted he would have had very much of a childhood if it weren't for his only beacon of hope.

Regulus Black was completely convinced that no one was cooler than Sirius. His older brother was not afraid of anything. Regulus had watched him stand up to his parents so many times, saying things that Regulus wouldn't even dare think let alone voice out. He was mischievous and rebellious and everything Regulus wanted to be. When Regulus was seven, Sirius had hung up a still picture of a wide-eyed blond.

"Who's that?" Regulus had asked. "And why is the picture not moving? What's wrong with her?"

"It's a muggle picture," Sirius had answered, grinning down at his brother as he stood on top of his bed to adhere the poster to the wall. "Muggle picture don't move. Andy's boyfriend gave it to me. Her name is Pattie Boyd."

Regulus had stared at his brother in awe. He knew that if their mother were to enter the room and see the picture, she would detonate with anger. Regulus had started shaking just thinking about their mother's reaction, but he knew Sirius wasn't afraid. Sirius wasn't afraid of anything.

Two years later, Sirius had departed to Hogwarts. Regulus had felt an overwhelming sense of sadness as he slept in Sirius' bed that night, counting down the days to Christmas when he would see his brother again. After the longest couple of months of Regulus' life, Sirius had come home and the house seemed much brighter, as if his mere presence shed a new light on the young and impressionable Regulus. He watched his brother strut around the house, proudly bearing Gryffindor colors despite their mother's fury. He listened in awe as Sirius told stories of hidden corridors and cloaks that rendered the wearer invisible. A few weeks later when he bid Sirius goodbye, he started to crave his world. He wanted to experience funny poltergeists and forbidden forests with his brother. He imagined them sauntering around wide corridors as they exuded mischief and roguishness. He daydreamed about ruling Hogwarts with Sirius, away from the domineering eyes of his mother. He had never wanted anything more.

That summer, Sirius came back with more stories with adventures and trouble and detentions. Regulus felt a stir of excitement deep inside whenever he thought of Hogwarts. He wanted to be just like his brother and he knew, more than he knew anything that Hogwarts would mean that he would finally be like Sirius.

When his brother left for his second year, again Regulus had counted down the days until Christmas. He stared up at the picture of Pattie Boyd, tacked right next to the Gryffindor seal, and he dreamt of Hogwarts and his brother almost nightly. His excitement only flourished when he had received a letter from Sirius, but it was only after he had reread the letter a dozen times that his eyes started to water and his stomach had plummeted.

"Reg," Sirius had written,

"I'm not coming home for Christmas this year, I was invited to stay with James Potter. I hope you're alright. I asked the elves in the kitchens here to make you a banoffee pie, since it's your favorite. I hope you like it.

Sirius."

In a fit of rage, Regulus tore the letter in a thousand pieces, then called Kreacher and asked him to burn the shreds. He threw the large box that accompanied the letter in the bin without glancing at its contents, and he had self-inflicted a boycott of Sirius' room. He refused to think of his brother for months, and only relented when Sirius had come home for the summer. However, even that euphoria was short lived as Sirius travelled to see his friends every chance he got. He was rarely home on weekends, and during the week he would visit James Potter until suppertime, sometimes even staying the night there. Regulus felt a deep surge of envy every time Sirius mentioned James Potter's name, and he started to hate the stories Sirius told. All of them, he realized, involved James Potter. James Potter's cloak was amazing, Sirius would say, his broom was amazing, his house was amazing, his parents were amazing. James Potter seemed to represent everything Sirius wanted in a friend and a brother, and everything Regulus was not. Regulus felt like his brother, the one he loved more than anything in the world, had replaced him with someone older, richer and cooler than Regulus could be.

That September, Regulus sat in the same train compartment with Sirius' friends. He watched them interact from the corner and he saw how Sirius' eyes lit up with brotherly affection every time James Potter spoke. He watched as they both teased Peter Pettigrew warmheartedly and how they consulted Remus Lupin about cryptic plans that did not include Regulus. He felt completely invisible as he regarded James Potter, whose chin was always held high, whose eyes always shined with impish glee.

During the sorting, Regulus kept his eyes forward as he shook with nerves. All too soon, the stern woman called his name, and he had wobbled his way to the stool facing the four tables. His eyes sought out his brother at the Gryffindor table, and he saw him gazing back at him. Sirius smiled at Regulus, and Regulus felt his heart warm over. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe things would be different once he got sorted into Gryffindor, just like Sirius. Sirius would show him all the secret passageways, and they would sneak into the kitchens late at night and eat cream puffs until they felt ill. They would sit together at meal times and prank teachers together afterwards. Things would be perfect.

But just as the hat was placed on his head, Regulus saw James Potter nudge Sirius, drawing his attention back to him. The last thing he saw before his eyes were covered by the hat's brim was Sirius facing away from the Sorting as he whispered something back to the grinning James Potter.

Regulus Black hated James Potter, for he knew that James Potter had stolen the only thing that kept Regulus secure and happy. James Potter had taken his brother away.

A/N: I'm working on the next chapter of my other fanfic, I promise. It's just that I thought of this and I had to write it down, because who doesn't like Regulus?

Please, please R&R. I love and appreciate every single one.