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“So how is it that you realised you were in love with him?”
Regulus exhales like this is a stupid question, but the tips of his ears betray him, turning a soft pink. He pokes at the chipped ceramic sugar pot on the table. “Well, you know…”
Barty lifts a brow. “No. I don’t. Enlighten me, oh great romantic.”
Regulus is quiet for a moment, brows furrowed but then, so quiet, Barty had to strain his ears to hear– “He… bumped into a table.”
Silence. Barty blinks. “He what?”
Or
Regulus is so very in love and Barty is exasperated
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“Say something,” Regulus whispered.
The silence between them felt cruel. Like a joke with no punchline.
Deadpool - no, James - didn’t meet his eyes. He just sat there, mask torn, city lights bleeding across his skin like an open wound.
“I couldn’t come back,” James said finally. “Not as me. Not after what they did. I’m not- I’m not him anymore.”
Regulus laughed, and it cracked like ice.
“Funny,” he said, voice breaking, “because I never got the chance to stop loving him.”
...
Regulus Black is New York’s masked golden boy, precise, graceful, and tired to the bone. He keeps his secrets stitched tight beneath red and black, under the weight of a city that never stops breaking things.
James Potter died years ago. At least, that’s what Regulus told himself.
But then there’s Deadpool, chaotic, loud, annoyingly flirty, showing up in the same alleys Regulus watches from, catching him when he falls. And when Regulus starts looking closer, the truth becomes harder to ignore.
Especially when the mask slips.
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“He's known Regulus since he was ten years old, just a young boy being carried around on his big brother's back because he wasn't feeling well, asleep on his shoulder.” (Crimson Rivers, chapter 4)
An interpretation of this memory from Zar’s work!
James Potter goes to the district bakery to pick up a loaf of bread and find Sirius, and is startled to meet Sirius’ little—as in, very small—brother, Regulus.
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Regulus Black is the only remaining son of the oldest pureblood family in Britain, the heir to a thousand-year-old legacy built on blood purity, and one of the most experienced Dark Arts users at Hogwarts. His joining the Death Eaters isn't just an expectation—it's practically a given. His parents certainly think so.
There's just one problem: Regulus has no intention of doing it. He's unenthused by the prospect of torturing and murdering Muggleborns, and as for championing the Dark Arts, well, why entrust to Voldemort something that he can do much better himself?
But it's the middle of Regulus's fifth year at Hogwarts, and the war is already picking up steam. If he wants to take on both Voldemort and Dumbledore, he has some catching up to do.
Series
- Part 2 of a taste for hard victories
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Regulus Black and the Way Things Changed: A Not!Fic by imaginary_golux
Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
11 Jun 2018
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What if Regulus Black, and not Severus Snape, ended up being the turncoat Potions Master of Hogwarts?
A not!fic written in bullet points, ignoring the Deathly Hallows entirely because they annoy me.
Beta by my immensely patient Best Beloved, Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw, and by the delightful starbirdrampant.
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- English
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14 Dec 2024