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The first time it happened was on an early winter morning.
Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains of the nursery, casting golden patterns on the wooden floor. James Potter stood in the doorway, and his heart, as always, skipped a beat when he looked at his husband with their daughter. Seven years ago, James couldn't even dream of such a scene. And now, waking up, he could watch the two most important people in his life right here beside him.
Regulus sat cross-legged on the soft carpet, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he helped three-year-old Rigel stack colorful blocks into an increasingly unstable tower. The little girl's face was taut with concentration, her tiny fingers carefully placing each block with great seriousness.
"That's it, darling," Regulus whispered in a soft voice. "One more."
"Love," James called from the doorway, unable to hide the smile in his voice. "Breakfast is ready."
Regulus looked up, and even after three years of marriage, James felt his breath catch. Those same silver eyes that had been passed down to their daughter were looking at him. Truth be told, Rigel was a complete copy of Regulus, from her appearance to her temperament. Only the unruly hair came from James.
"Coming," Regulus replied, then turned to Rigel. "We'll finish our tower after breakfast, darling."
Rigel's face lit up. "You too, love?"
Both men froze.
James blinked, trying to process what was happening. Regulus's expression shifted from confusion to understanding, then to something so tender it made James's chest tighten.
"What did you say, little star?" Regulus asked carefully.
"Love come too!" Rigel repeated, stretching both hands toward Regulus's hand. "Love eat!"
James watched as realization bloomed across his husband's features. Their daughter thought Regulus's name was Love. Because that's what James called him. Constantly.
Laughter burst from James's chest, helpless and joyful. "Oh my god."
"Don't you dare," Regulus said, but his lips were trembling. "Don't you dare..."
"Our daughter thinks your name is Love," James managed between laughs. "This is the best thing that's ever happened to me."
"Better than our wedding?" Regulus asked, but now he was smiling too, with that genuine smile that James treasured.
"On par with it," James corrected, crossing the room to lift Rigel into his arms. She squealed with delight, her dark curls bouncing. "Though this is pretty perfect too."
Rigel patted James's cheek. "Daddy silly."
"Very silly," Regulus agreed, rising gracefully to his feet. He kissed Rigel on the forehead, then quickly and tenderly kissed James on the lips. "Come on. The pancakes will get cold."
As they descended the stairs, Rigel chattering happily about her blocks, James couldn't stop smiling. Regulus caught his gaze and shook his head, but tenderness was written in every feature of his face.
The kitchen was warm and bright, the air filled with the aroma of vanilla and butter. James had outdone himself this morning. On the table lay star-shaped pancakes and fresh berries.
"Daddy made stars!" Rigel exclaimed as James settled her into her high chair.
"Yes, he did," Regulus confirmed, sitting down next to her. "Because daddy likes to show off."
"I prefer the expression 'demonstrating my love through culinary excellence,'" James said loftily, placing plates before them both.
"Love!" Rigel chirped, pointing at Regulus.
James had to bite his lip to keep from laughing again. Regulus shot him a defiant look, but he was patiently cutting Rigel's pancakes into smaller pieces.
"Rigel, darling," Regulus said slowly. "Do you know what papa's name is?"
Rigel nodded vigorously. "Love!"
"And what's daddy's name?"
"James!"
Regulus sighed. "Of course." He glanced at James. "This is your fault."
"Absolutely," James agreed cheerfully. "But can you blame me? Look at yourself." He waved his hand vaguely in Regulus's direction. "You are love. My love. The love of my life. I'm just speaking the truth."
Regulus rolled his eyes, but the flush on his cheeks gave him away completely. He focused on spreading some honey on Rigel's pancake, avoiding James's direct gaze.
"You're impossible," he muttered, but there wasn't a drop of real annoyance in his voice.
Rigel, meanwhile, was already devouring her breakfast, smearing berry juice across her chin and cheeks. James watched her with adoration that hadn't lessened for a minute since her birth. Every movement, every sound, every smile of hers was a little miracle to him.
"Love," she called, stretching out a syrup-sticky hand toward Regulus. "More berries."
Regulus obediently placed several blueberries on the edge of her plate. "Here you go, baby."
"Thank you, Love!" Rigel replied cheerfully, popping a berry into her mouth.
James covered his face with his hand, his shoulders shaking with laughter. "I can't. This is too good."
"You're enjoying this far more than you should," Regulus grumbled, but even he couldn't completely hide his own amusement.
The second time it happened was during the holidays.
Christmas came with a flurry of snow and magical lights, and the Potter house was full of life. Sirius arrived with gifts wrapped in garish red and gold paper. Remus brought cookies he'd baked himself. Even Barty and Evan stopped by for an hour before heading to the Lovegoods'.
Rigel was thrilled by all the attention. She raced between guests in her new red dress, showing everyone her new doll, new books, new toy broom, which, at Regulus's insistence, was enchanted not to rise higher than six inches off the ground.
"Look, Uncle Pads!" she shouted, waving the broom. "Look what daddy got me!"
"Wonderful, little one!" Sirius scooped her up and tossed her in the air, making her squeal with delight. "Soon you'll be flying faster than papa himself!"
"She won't be flying fast for a very, very long time," Regulus muttered from the kitchen, where he was making hot chocolate.
"You're too overprotective," Sirius shouted back.
"She broke her arm a five months ago ago," Regulus replied in an even tone.
James watched it all from an armchair by the fireplace, holding a cup of mulled wine and feeling warmth spread through his chest, not from the alcohol, but from the sight. His daughter, laughing in his best friend's arms. His husband in the kitchen. His friends, his family, all together in his home.
He didn't deserve this. Not after everything that had happened. Not after the war, not after the losses. But he'd gotten it anyway, and he was grateful every single day.
"Daddy!" Rigel broke free from Sirius's embrace and ran to James, climbing onto his lap. "Uncle Sirius says I can get a real broom when I turn five!"
"Uncle Sirius can go straight to the dementors," Regulus muttered, entering with a tray full of steaming mugs of chocolate.
"I heard that!" Sirius shouted.
"Good."
Rigel giggled and turned to Regulus as he set down the tray. "Love made chocolate?"
All conversation in the room fell silent. Sirius looked puzzled. Remus raised an eyebrow.
"Did she... did she just called you love?" Sirius asked slowly.
Regulus's face flushed. "She... it's not..."
"She thinks that's his name," James explained cheerfully. "Because I always call him that. My love. Love. My love."
There was a pause. And then Sirius burst into deep, booming laughter that made Rigel jump on James's lap.
"You... you're serious?" Sirius wiped his eyes. "That's just disgusting. Simply brilliant. Can you imagine how this will be in school? 'My name is Rigel, and my daddy's name is James, and my papa's name is Love.'"
"That's exactly why we need to correct her," Regulus turned to Rigel with a determined expression. "Darling, listen carefully. My name is Regulus. Reg-u-lus."
Rigel tilted her head to the side. "But daddy says Love."
"Daddy's an idiot."
"Hey!" James protested.
"Let's try this," Regulus crouched down in front of them. "People can have multiple names. Like you have the name Rigel, but I sometimes call you little star, and daddy calls you princess."
Rigel nodded, listening.
"So, my real name is Regulus. But daddy sometimes calls me Love because..." he glanced at James, and something in his face softened, "because he..."
"Because I love you," James corrected.
"So your name is Regulus, but daddy calls you Love because he loves you?"
"Exactly," Regulus exhaled with relief.
"Then I'll call you Love too," Rigel declared decisively. "Because I love you too."
The room fell into silence—but this time of a different kind. James felt something tighten in his throat. Sirius cleared his throat and suddenly became absorbed in studying his boots.
Regulus froze, staring at his daughter with an expression as if she'd just said something unimaginably profound. His hand trembled as he reached out to touch Rigel's cheek.
"Okay," he whispered, and his voice was unsteady. "Okay, little star. You can call me Love."
Rigel beamed and reached for him. Regulus took her in his arms, pressing her close, and James saw his eyes close.
The third time it happened was when Rigel started kindergarten.
James sat on a too-small chair, clutching his knees and trying not to look as awkward as he felt. Next to him, Regulus looked much more comfortable, his posture straight, hands neatly folded on his knees.
This was Rigel's first parent-teacher conference, and the teacher—a young witch named Miss Langdon—was going through a folder of drawings and notes.
"Rigel is a very bright girl," she began with a smile. "She learns quickly, gets along well with other children, and her imagination is simply astonishing."
"That's good to hear," Regulus said, and James could see his shoulders relax with relief.
"However," Miss Langdon continued, and her smile became slightly embarrassed, "there is one small thing I wanted to ask about."
James felt his heart sink. "Is something wrong?"
"Oh, no, nothing bad!" the teacher assured them. "It's just... Rigel keeps calling one of you 'Love,' and I wanted to make sure I'm filling out the paperwork correctly. Is it a nickname or...?"
James bit his lip, trying not to laugh. Regulus covered his face with his hand.
"It's... complicated to explain," Regulus began.
"Actually, it's very simple," James interrupted, unable to help himself. "I call my husband 'love,' and our daughter decided that was his real name."
Miss Langdon blinked, then her face broke into a wide smile. "Oh, that's absolutely adorable! I must admit, we've all been a bit puzzled by it here. Some of the other teachers thought perhaps it was some sort of Black family tradition."
"No," Regulus said dryly. "It's just my husband who can't control his words of affection."
"And I'm not going to apologize for it," James declared.
The teacher laughed. "Well, I think it's sweet. And honestly, Rigel isn't the only one with interesting names for parents. We have one boy who calls his father 'Big Boss' because that's what his mother calls him."
"Love is definitely better than Big Boss," James agreed.
They continued discussing Rigel's progress, looking through her drawings—mostly depictions of stars, dragons, and what was presumably their family. In one drawing were three figures holding hands.
Regulus stared at that drawing for a long time.
"May I keep it?" he asked quietly.
"Of course!" The teacher handed him the drawing. "She was very proud of it."
The fourth time happened on Rigel's birthday, when she turned five. The house was full of children from kindergarten, balloons, and the chaos created by a dozen five-year-olds pumped full of sugar and excitement. James organized games in the yard while Sirius circled around him. Regulus was in the kitchen, watching over the cake, a three-tiered creation decorated with stars and dragons that he'd insisted on baking himself. James had offered to just buy a cake, but Regulus refused.
Rigel raced between guests in her party dress when one of the boys, Michael, fell and scraped his knee. Of course, tears began. Lots of tears. James was already heading toward him, but Rigel was faster. She crouched down next to Michael.
"Don't cry," she said. "I'll get Love. Love fixes everything."
And before James could say anything, she ran into the house, shouting: "Love! Love, need help!"
Regulus appeared from the kitchen. "What happened?"
"Michael fell!" Rigel grabbed his hand and dragged him into the yard. "He's hurt!"
By the time they reached Michael, the boy had already begun to calm down, but Regulus still knelt beside him, examining the scraped knee with professional thoroughness.
"Let's have a look," he murmured, pulling out his wand. "It's not as bad as it seems. A bit of healing spell, and it'll be like the scrape was never there."
"See?" Rigel said to Michael triumphantly. "I told you Love would fix everything."
Michael stopped sniffling and stared at Regulus. "Is his name really Love?"
"Yup!" Rigel confirmed.
"Wow," Michael said with genuine admiration. "That's a weird name."
Regulus healed the scrape with a quick spell, then helped Michael up. "Be more careful now, all right?"
"Thank you, Mr. Love," Michael said seriously.
James, watching all this, bit his lip so hard he nearly drew blood. Next to him, Sirius was quietly giggling.
"Mr. Love," Sirius repeated.
"Shut up," Regulus muttered, walking past them back to the kitchen, but his ears were red.
The rest of the party passed without incident, except that now all the children were calling Regulus "Mr. Love," and he clearly didn't know how to react to it. By the end of the evening, when the last guest had left and Rigel was falling asleep on the couch, surrounded by new toys, Regulus looked both exhausted and happy.
Life is a strange thing. After all the pain, it can suddenly give you something so incredible that you want to wake up every day. For example, for Regulus, she gave family.
Love for them was no longer something fragile. It had weight, shape, and warmth. It fixed scraped knees, soothed nighttime fears, held hands and didn't let go.
And if someday Rigel grew up and stopped calling him that out loud, it would still remain.