And he remembered that time he'd blown up on them at even the thought of touching his hair. And his hand was burning again and Regulus" eyes were wide and terrified and Harry could feel the the phantom weight of his fingers sliding through his hair. Tugging it into place; pulling it into a braid; brushing it from his forehead. His hair was the only part of him that resembled Regulus in the slightest. His skin was dark and his eyes were green and he was wider boned compared to the delicacy of Regulus" own build. But his hair was night kissed and wild, and sure, it was James. But it was Regulus too. 