Chapter 1: The Lone Black Lion Visits the House of Snake
Chapter Text
Regulus is mindlessly flipping through the Quidditch magazine he nicked from his brother’s room over the summer, when a loud knock on the door disrupts the quiet of their dormitory.
“Isn’t it a bit early for your cousin to be checking if we’re all in bed?” Evan asks, glancing up from his homework. “We haven’t even had dinner yet.”
No one rises in response to the knock. Closest to the door, the task automatically falls to Barty according to their agreed-upon-without-actually-speaking-about-them dorm rules. “Not sure why you’re so shocked, Evan… you know how much she likes to fuss over everyone, especially her ickle-Reggiekins. Probably went through withdrawal over the summer holidays with no one to mother-hen over.”
“Shut it,” Regulus says on principle, no heat behind his words. He’s much too loyal to his cousin to bad mouth her to anyone, including his closest friends… it doesn't matter that Barty’s point is valid. “And don’t let her hear you say such rubbish, or it’ll be on your head, Barty.”
His friend rightfully shudders in response - no one messes with Narcissa Black, unless they have a death wish. To non-Slytherins, she’s the ‘Slytherin Ice Princess’ - imperious, aloof, cruel, unapproachable. Her older sister, Andromeda, the middle child of three girls (Bellatrix, the first born, graduated at the end of Regulus’s second year), currently holds the title of ‘Slytherin Queen’. A majority of the student body considers Andromeda to be the ‘nice Black sister’, but those in Slytherin know how utterly terrifying the brunette can be when something sets her off. In all likelihood, Narcissa’s platinum blonde hair, pale skin, and piercing blue eyes play a huge factor in the ‘ice’ portion of her title… Merlin forbid their peers look beyond what’s right in front of their faces, or gasp, utilize critical thinking skills.
Narcissa’s reputation within Slytherin is more in line with how Regulus has always seen her - warm, thoughtful, caring, helpful. She fully embraced the title her dormmates bestowed upon her in her second year - Slytherin Dorm Mom.
Barty flings the door open with a chipper, “Narcissa, how lovely…”
“Is Regulus here?” a gruff voice demands to know, one that very much does not belong to Regulus’s favorite cousin.
“Uh…”
Stuffing the stolen magazine into his pillowcase (one can never be too careful when his nosy sibling is around), Regulus does a quick check of his expression in the mirror… oof, yeah that screams guilty, definitely need to adjust that before their visitor enters.
Did Sirius cast some charm that alerted him whenever his younger sibling was using his stuff?... or did something dreadful and totally unrelated occur, and it's just a coincidence that Regulus happened to be reading the pilfered magazine at the time of his brother's arrival?
See, Sirius never visits him in Slytherin.
Well okay, that’s not completely true. Years ago, during Regulus’s first semester at Hogwarts, his brother would randomly sneak into his dorm a few nights each week. They’d spend at least an hour together, sharing stories about what went on during their day, exchanging the latest school gossip, or just chatting about whatever came to mind. Grandmother Melania, their Father’s mother, once described Regulus as ‘an exceptionally quiet boy, especially compared to his brother’, but acknowledged that Sirius had a knack for getting his younger sibling to open up. And with the silencing charms embedded into his bed curtains preventing their words from disturbing his dormmates, Regulus usually had a lot to say whenever Sirius came to visit.
The sneaking around was necessary, unfortunately, due to Sirius being sorted into Gryffindor the year before Regulus enrolled at Hogwarts. As a member of a different house, Sirius shouldn’t have been able to step foot in the Slytherin Common Room, let alone make his way into the dorm rooms… then again, rules have never been enough to keep Sirius from doing whatever he desired, not when compliancy goes against his very essence. But Sirius swore up and down he only committed the infraction to ensure his little brother was doing alright after leaving home, claiming the relocation was likely ‘very difficult’ for the younger, because Regulus ‘hated people’ (not precisely true… he hated most people, but there’s a spare few he’s unequivocally fond of) and ‘doesn’t like change, even when it’s expected’ (that though, was entirely true).
They were well into October before Regulus gathered the courage to point out that if Sirius was that concerned for his well-being, then he should seek Regulus out in the daytime, either in the Great Hall, the library during his free periods, or literally any other instance that wasn’t well past curfew. It wasn’t that Regulus minded the late night visits, per se; Merlin knew he’d be awake well into the early morning hours if left to his own devices. But he felt horrendously guilty whenever he fell asleep while his brother was there, which happened much more frequently than he’d care to admit. Sirius brushed off Regulus's embarrassed apologies, as if he weren’t bothered in the slightest by their visits being abruptly cut short. He didn’t even tease Regulus about it, despite the situation being the perfect fodder for one of his infamous dramatic monologues, something like, ‘do you find me so dreadfully boring, Reggie? Am I destined to be the next Professor Binns, droning on and on to the point where even the strongest-willed students succumb to slumber, lulled to sleep by the monotonous cadence of my voice?’ Sirius lived for theatrical displays, so it was unusual for him to forsake such an opportunity.
In a disappointing, but not at all surprising ruling, his brother rejected the proposal. Sirius’s counterargument - seeing Regulus in the privacy of his dorm was preferable, because that’s when Regulus was ‘most himself’... an annoyingly accurate statement that couldn’t be disputed. Worse, Sirius repeated the warning he originally made the morning following Regulus’s sorting, when the younger Slytherin approached him at the Gryffindor table under the guise of saying hello… in actuality, Regulus was desperately seeking reassurance from his big brother that everything would be alright, that they’d be alright… making it bitterly ironic when Sirius interrupted his ‘good morning, brother’ to say it was imperative that they not be seen together too often. For some, such a statement from their sibling may sound needlessly cruel… and admittedly, Regulus was taken aback by the harshness of his brother’s words… but Sirius insisted the distance was for Regulus’s own sake.
For centuries, every Black that attended Hogwarts prior to Sirius Orion Black III had been sorted into Slytherin, a point of immense pride for their pure, magical lineage. As the heir of their wealthy, noble family, Sirius being sorted into Gryffindor was the worst scenario imaginable in the eyes of many of their relatives, their parents included. Even before Regulus received his Hogwarts letter, it was heavily implied that he should strive to limit contact with his ‘reprehensible’ older brother, lest Sirius's dissident ideals begin to negatively influence him. So, it was understandable why Sirius said what he did, and he knew his brother was simply looking out for him like always. But logical understanding aside, Regulus deeply resented the fact that he couldn’t spend time with his brother whenever he wanted, especially since they lived in the same bloody castle! Watching Sirius laugh and goof around with his loser Gryffindor friends, all while pretending like Regulus didn’t exist, fucking sucked.
The clandestine visits continued until January, coming to an immediate end because… well, because Regulus ruined everything.
It started with their lousy Christmas holiday. Returning home for the first time since September, Regulus had been looking forward to a reprieve from the hustle and bustle of Hogwarts… unfortunately, a calm atmosphere wasn’t in the cards for him. For nearly a month, he was pulled between his brother and the rest of their family, forced to play mediator again and again, terrified to speak lest he set someone off. Since the moment he learned to talk, Sirius has been bickering with various relatives (some more so than others), but it had never been so endlessly contentious; nonstop shouting, threats to leave the family, threats of disownment, nasty comments that dug right into each other’s insecurities, underhanded compliments, items breaking from being thrown, priceless antiques ‘accidentally’ blowing up, constant noise noise noise. Every time Regulus found a place to hide, regardless of whose house they were at, Sirius found him within minutes. Allergic to silence, his brother would then desecrate Regulus’s quiet space with heated rants about whichever relative offended him last (only once did he ask his brother to stop talking, 'for Merlin’s sake, would you shut it?!' ... Sirius had looked so hurt, Regulus began apologizing, profusely, a frantic gush of word vomit that lasted for several minutes; it was probably the only time either of them laughed during that break).
Nerves frayed from the incessant drama, returning to Hogwarts and the relative peace of his dorm should have, in a manner of speaking, fixed all of his problems. What Regulus didn’t anticipate, but probably should have given the way his life tended to go, was his insomnia returning with a vengeance. He was running on a meager 4 hours of sleep total, over a three-day period, when Sirius popped in for his first visit of the new semester. Had Regulus been smart, he would have politely turned his brother away, would have said ‘sorry, I haven’t been sleeping well, I need to go to bed early because you know how I get when I’m overtired’... but he didn’t, probably because he despised the thought of inconveniencing someone, or worse, disappointing them. Sirius was considerate enough to make the effort to come visit him despite the distance, the least Regulus could do was let him stay for a bit.
He really should have asked his brother to leave…
Because when Sirius, whose mother-henning was so extreme, it made Narcissa’s look neglectful in comparison, asked for the eighth time that night if Regulus was alright, he snapped.
Callous words spewed out of his mouth without conscious thought, insults sharp enough to pierce through the thickest defensive walls. Regulus screamed and screamed until his throat felt raw, the acidic poison of his words incinerating the tight knit bond they shared until only ash remained. He demanded Sirius stop bothering him all the time because he wasn’t a baby, he didn’t need his older brother fussing after him, and perhaps it would be prudent for Sirius to direct that concern to himself, considering he was the one constantly angering their parents with his less-than-perfect grades, disgraceful choice of companions, and trouble-making behavior? What fucking right did Sirius have to waltz into Slytherin like he owned the place, when he constantly made it a point to emphasize how ‘different’ he was from the rest of their family, simply because he was sorted into Gryffindor? And really, wasn’t that a joke, because if there was an ounce of bravery to be found in him, just the tiniest bit of courage, then they could spend time together like normal siblings. It wasn't Regulus who was afraid to be seen in public with his brother, nor did he give a damn what their family would have to say about it, so did that make Sirius the spineless coward among them? Actually, you know what, maybe Mother was right… maybe Sirius was undeserving of his birthright, his position as the heir, maybe they would all be better off if he just left for good, dropping their surname and tearing ties in one fell swoop, just like he threatened to do over Christmas break.
Sirius never visited again, and Regulus is now in his fourth-year.
After that disastrous evening, their relationship steadily deteriorated to the point where they’re now more like hostile acquaintances, rather than brothers. Regulus wanted to apologize right away, knew he should, knew he was in the wrong, but how could a simple ‘sorry’ fix a wound so deep? In the private conversations they’d have after family disputes, Regulus either played the middle ground, or took his brother’s side. For him to suddenly echo the harsh rebuttals of their relatives, to parrot the words of their mother… it was the deepest betrayal possible.
They somewhat mended this rift over this past summer, but Regulus isn’t naïve; the peace won’t last. Frankly, they’re much too different these days. Sirius is loud, boisterous, popular in every house except Slytherin, an extrovert, rebellious, arrogant, emotionally reactive; Regulus, on the other hand, is quiet, calm, begrudgingly accepted by his housemates and tolerated by the other houses, introverted, a rule follower, stoic. In stressful situations, Sirius is fight, ready at a moment’s notice to stand up and speak his mind for whatever he believes in, whereas Regulus is flight (either literally or by completely shutting down), avoiding confrontations to the best of his abilities. Regulus goes along with their parents’ rules, regardless if he understands or agrees with the reasoning behind them, but Sirius seemingly goes out of his way to resist or rebel against their instructions.
And sure, they were always opposites, but after going to Hogwarts and realizing the gravity of their differences… well, it was probably only a matter of time before their bond disintegrated.
Evan clears his throat, jolting Regulus from his musings.
“Let him in.”
Head bowed, Sirius sluggishly pads into the room, his thick, shoulder-length jet-black hair obscuring his expression. A messenger bag is slung over his shoulder, like he’s coming to study rather than deliver terrible news; the sight should ease Regulus’s mind, but things are never that simple when his wayward brother is involved. First off, Blacks don’t bow their heads; they’re not subservient, nor should they ever, in any circumstance, outwardly exhibit a lack of confidence. It’s a lesson Regulus struggled with growing up, why did it have to be a fucking crime to prefer to watch where one steps, but Sirius never did. Standing motionless in the center of the room, every muscle tensed up, Sirius looks like someone hit him with a body-binding spell.
Unnerved by his brother’s strange behavior (granted, Sirius has always been a rather weird bloke, but he’s generally predictable in his oddness), Regulus breaks the silence. “Do I even want to ask how you got in, brother?”
Sirius lifts his head.
In a bid to never again suffer the consequences of his own emotional outbursts, Regulus actively strives to conduct himself with diplomacy and proper manners at all times… with that being said, he cannot contain his horrified gasp at the sight of his brother’s bruised and bloodied face.
Who would dare rough up Sirius Black?!... a lot of people probably want to, for dozens of valid reasons including revenge for falling victim to one of his pranks, so the real question is - who could rough up Sirius Black?
“Followed behind someone coming in, obviously,” Sirius answers, not quite meeting his gaze. “Then I walked like I had a stick up my ass, so no one batted an eye.”
Since there are more important matters to address, Regulus bites off a snippy remark about how no one would ever have allowed Sirius to get this far into Slytherin territory without some degree of trickery… besides, a second glance at his brother is all he needs to confirm his conclusion is correct. Clad in robes lined with Slytherin green and silver, rather than Gryffindor red and gold, Sirius's hair is wavier than usual, more like Regulus’s own.
There's not much he and his brother see eye-to-eye on nowadays. In fact, the only thing they staunchly agree on is that they don’t look anything alike. Sure, they possess a handful of similar traits that other members of the noble Black family share (pale porcelain skin, a general look of aristocracy), and yes, they have the same color hair, worn at nearly the same length, and gray eyes, but the similarities end there. An average height for his age, Sirius is broad-shouldered and muscular from his stint as a Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Regulus, on the other hand, is among the 90th percentile in his year for height, thin and willowy, the perfect build for a Seeker. To hear it from anyone else though, be it their relatives, other students at Hogwarts, even total strangers, Sirius and Regulus are exact replicas of one another.
“So, you walked normally, you mean?” Regulus counters, and his brother grins widely at him… until he grimaces in pain, both of his lips busted. “Sirius, what happened to you?!”
The Gryffindor flicks his hair over his shoulder, a nervous tic their peers incorrectly believe is done to appear ‘suave’. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Sirius.”
“That’s my name.”
“Sirius.”
“Still my name.”
“Brother.”
“It’s nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about, Reg.” Ha, please! All Regulus does is worry, no matter how hard he tries not to. Sirius used to know that, always understood how Regulus ticked, but evidently, that’s no longer the case.
“If I had a Galleon for every time I told Reg not to worry about something, but he did anyways,” Barty snorts, “I’d be richer than the Blacks and the Rosiers combined!”
Sirius is the only one to not chuckle at Barty’s quip. “Has your anxiety become a problem again, Reggie?”
Oh sweet Merlin, not this again.
“Barty told this thing, perhaps you've heard of it, called ‘a joke’. It's intended to make people laugh... or is that concept too advanced for your pintsized brain to comprehend?” He frowns mockingly. "I could use smaller words, might that help?"
“Listen brat, don't think I didn’t notice that lack of denial. And I'll have you know, I’m very good at telling jokes, I just think that -”
Evan, bless him, quickly cuts Sirius off before he can get himself worked up. “What brings you so far from the Lion’s Den?”
“First and foremost, Evie, it’s rude to interrupt, we need to work on your manners.” After spending a few seconds glaring at Regulus’s best friend since childhood, Sirius turns to his sibling with an exaggerated pout, “Darling baby bro, whomst I love more than life itself, is there perhaps… do you think I could maybe… if you’d be so kind, could I… uh, kip here…?”
...
The room becomes deathly silent. Of all the things Sirius could have said, asking to bunk with them in Slytherin would never have crossed Regulus's mind. Was that even allowed?! And why would his brother want to stay with them anyways? Was this a setup for some stupid prank?
...
"Please?" Sirius whispers after the silence drags on, voice so soft, Regulus thinks he imagined it. But then his brother raises his head, meeting his gaze from across the room. "Please, Reggie?"
“You may,” Regulus answers after wordlessly double-checking with the other occupants of his dorm; Evan shrugs, while Barty grins eagerly, like he loves the drama of it all… knowing him, an only child from a small family, he probably does. "Of course, Sirius."
“... for a bit?”
Knowing 'a bit' means very different things to his brother ('I'll be ready in a bit' translates to, 'I'll be ready in an hour, maybe'), Regulus seeks clarification. “If you would be so kind as to convert ‘a bit’ from Sirius Black time into standard time, it would be greatly appreciated.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Sirius hums, fiddling with the earring dangling in his ear. “Maybe til... er, the end of the semester?”
“What.”
“I said the end of the semester,” Sirius repeats slowly, like Regulus was struggling to hear him. That, of course, is not the problem.
The… the end of the semester?! Salazar, Regulus wasn’t expecting that! Mere days ago, Sirius was practically vibrating with anticipation as they prepared to leave for King’s Cross Station, overjoyed at the thought of reuniting with his three best friends - James Potter, Regulus’s arch nemesis (not that the pillock knows it, because that would require speaking to the Gryffindor Golden Boy, and as a general rule of thumb, Regulus doesn't engage in activities that involve lowering oneself), Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. What the fuck happened in such a short span of time for Sirius to decide bunking in Slytherin, the house he fought tooth and nail to avoid being sorted into, was better than rooming with his best mates?
“You mean the semester that just started, Sirius?!”
His brother shrugs, his gaze once again lowered to the ground. “So it seems..."
With a raucous laugh at the shameless request, Barty claps Sirius on the shoulder. “Welcome to the Snakepit, Black. Nice to have ya for however long you choose to grace us with your presence.”
“Good thing we have plenty of space,” Evan adds, inclining his head towards the area where a fourth bed would be if another boy had been sorted into Slytherin with them.
In previous years, the free space was used to sharpen their dueling skills, but they recently converted it into a play area for Evan’s tiny black kitten, Wrath, their new unofficial roommate. She also brazenly took over the rest of their room like it’s her birthright, a seizure of territory they’ve accepted without complaint… she’s adorable.
“Thanks, fellas, I appreciate the hospitality,” the Gryffindor beams, his shoulders relaxing.
Did he expect to be turned away? How could Sirius believe that I, Regulus, his actual brother, wouldn’t help him if asked?!
… alright, to an extent, it’s a logical conclusion. If Sirius approached him last year or the year before, Regulus would have sent him packing back to Gryffindor.
Fuck, okay, no, he’s kidding himself; he’s more family-oriented than Sirius, always has been, and although he would have bitched up a storm about his brother bunking with them on principle, Regulus still would have allowed him in, regardless of the reason behind his sudden appearance.
But years of resentment and animosity don’t simply disappear overnight; Regulus hates how he can’t shed the childish disappointment, the rage, the all-encompassing sense of betrayal he’s carried ever since he learned that Sirius, the older brother he idolized for as long as he could remember, found a new family at Hogwarts, a new brother, a better one, a brother he chose, rather than was forced to have.
It leads to Regulus hissing out, “Bad fight with your precious Potter, brother?” He tenses, waiting for the inevitable angry rebuttal.
Except... Sirius doesn’t rise to the bait. “Mmm, something like that.”
Regulus squints, waiting for more, but his brother begins studying the photographs pinned over his desk and doesn’t say anything else.
Hmm, interesting, very interesting.
Of course, Regulus doesn’t know for sure (he WILL get to the bottom of whatever is going on with Sirius in time, of that he’s certain), but it seems like Potter wasn’t the one to rough his brother up. That Pettigrew boy is too wimpy and pathetic to get one over on Sirius, even if he attacked him by surprise. Maybe he could manage a solid punch, but several? No fucking way. Besides, Regulus doubts a fight with Pettigrew would upset his brother enough to the point where he’d willingly vacate his dorm for an extended period of time, not when Pettigrew seems like the tag-along in their quartet.
That leaves Remus Lupin as the perpetrator, but that doesn’t feel right either. Regulus can’t picture the mild-mannered boy wanting to attack Sirius, especially to such a savage degree. Sure, he’s the tallest in their friend group, one of the tallest students at Hogwarts, actually, but he also looks like a strong gust of wind could knock him over. That's not even taking into account how Sirius and Lupin gaze at each other with literal heart eyes; they're so excessively touchy-feely, it genuinely makes Regulus nauseous whenever he’s forced to witness it. It’s not obvious to the masses, idiots that they are, that Lupin and Sirius are romantically involved, but it’s only a matter of time before someone else catches on.
“Do you think between the four of us, we can figure out how to conjure an extra bed?” Evan asks, again jolting Regulus from his thoughts.
“Don’t bother,” Sirius dismisses right as Regulus says, “There’s no need.”
They've shared a bed off and on for their entire lives, despite always having their own rooms at Grimmauld Place. Prior to their blowout fight, Sirius regularly crawled into Regulus’s bed once their parents retired for the night, concocting ridiculous stories until the younger fell asleep. He made sure to creep back across the hall in the early hours of the morning, long before their parents woke, but Regulus can't imagine they didn't know considering how often it happened. And even now, Sirius requests a joint room whenever they visit family, under the guise of not wanting to burden their relatives; Regulus, who hates sleeping alone in any place that isn’t his own bedroom, should protest the arrangement on principle… but doesn’t. Generally, a second bed is added without comment (besides some wholly unnecessary eyerolls), but not everyone is as obliging; no one has attempted to place the brothers in separate rooms, likely wary of 'offending' the Black heir or provoking his temper, but some snippier relatives have forced them to share a twin-size bed as ‘punishment for such an indecorous request’, which is undoubtedly ‘a result of the shameful codependency’ they should have ‘long grown out of by now’. Sirius and Regulus grumble about it, of course, lest anyone catch on that they’re unbothered by the discipline.
Besides, Sirius won’t be rooming with them long enough to make transfiguring something into a bed worth the effort. In spite of what was suggested, Regulus is well aware his brother will return to his Gryffindor dorm sooner rather than later. Their relatives were correct, Sirius does have codependency issues… just not with his younger brother. Sirius Orion Black is codependent with James fucking Potter, star athlete, prankster, and all around bane of Regulus’s existence.
Surreptitiously catching Regulus’s attention with a quiet cough, Evan then scratches his nose, asking a silent question. Regulus inclines his head in response, and his friend slips out of the room, not a single word passed between them.
“Not a bad place you’ve got here,” Sirius says, gazing idly out of the window into the depths of the Black Lake. “Warmer than I expected. Have you ever seen the Giant Squid?”
“We’ve seen two Giant Squids,” Barty lies with a straight face. “At the same time.”
Sirius whirls around, eyes bright with excitement. “Really?! When? Ole Willy finally found himself a pal, aye?”
Merlin, how can someone so ‘smart’ be so gullible?
“There’s only one Giant Squid, Sirius, and that’s all there ever will be in the Black Lake. You see, ‘Willy’ is bound to these waters with invisible chains, forced to watch as everyone else grows and moves on while he remains stagnant, eternal, the last of his kind, a cursed existence undeserving of a creature so majestic and noble.”
“I’m pleased to see you’ve maintained your optimistic outlook on life, Reggie.”
“And anyways, oh brother of mine, you don’t need to act like you’ve never been here before,” the Slytherin taunts, subtly rearranging his pillow to ensure the filched magazine is fully hidden. They shared everything growing up, but over the last few years, Sirius has become bizarrely combative whenever Regulus borrows his things, going so far as to accuse him of stealing items he didn’t actually take (and wouldn’t take either - why Sirius presumes Regulus would traverse all the way to Gryffindor tower on the seventh floor to steal his hairbrush, he’ll never understand. If he wanted his brother’s hair for some potion or Dark Magic ritual, there were dozens of easier methods that involve significantly less exercise). “They know… you’re not as stealthy as you like to think.”
Sirius clutches his hands to his chest, overdramatic as ever. “How could you say such cruel words to your loving, most handsome brother?”
“Quite easily, actually,” Regulus shrugs, unrepentant.
“I’ll have you know, I am very sneaky!”
“See, your enormous ego doesn’t fit into such a small space -”
The Gryffindor puffs out his chest. “In fact, I’d say I’m the sneakiest person in this school… and that includes the faculty!”
“... so I’ve taken it upon myself to chip away at it bit by bit before we all suffocate.”
Their bickering is interrupted by the sound of the doorknob turning, painstakingly slow, from Regulus’s perspective. Certain Sirius will not be thrilled with what’s about to occur, he fingers the wand hidden in the sleeve of his robe. He tells himself it’s a precautionary measure - preparation for the upcoming showdown and all that - but in reality, it’s a nervous habit that helps ease his mind in stressful situations (his friend Pandora once explained it as something called ‘stimming’).
Regulus has no intention of drawing his wand, that would be monumentally suicidal, but the action still calms him…
… until his brother picks up on it.
“Why’ve you suddenly gone all twitchy -”
“Regulus, what’s going on?” Narcissa’s sophisticated voice rings out, cutting Sirius off.
That's why.
His cousin flounces into the room, Evan slinking in behind her like a scolded puppy; it’s impossible to tell if he already faced Narcissa’s wrath, or if he’s fearing Sirius’s. For as long as they’ve known each other (basically their whole lives), Evan’s been a little… starstruck … by the elder Black brother (not that he’d ever admit it, of course). Shockingly, repeated exposure to Sirius’s oddness never seemed to diminish that sense of awe either.
“What's she doing here?” Sirius snarls at Regulus, ignoring their cousin’s shocked gaze, that quickly turns suspicious. "A Black intervention, is this the sort of crock we do now? Ooh, no, let me guess... revenge, is it, for last year? Do you snakes just leap at the chance to butt into other people's business?"
Evan attempts to close the door, but a manicured hand catches the wood, pushing it back open.
“Regulus, what is this I hear about you trekking through the Common Room with blood all over your face?” Gliding elegantly into the room, Andromeda shuts the door with a resounding click, trapping them all together.
“We’ll just, uh, leave you to your… family... reunion?” Evan mutters with a hand on Barty’s upper arm, which he then uses to lead the protesting boy out of the room. Before the door closes behind him, he offers Regulus what probably was meant to be an encouraging smile... it comes out as more of a grimace.
The silence quickly becomes suffocating.
Pent up magic crackles around Sirius, fueled by his turbulent emotions. He doesn’t seem to notice, too busy scowling fiercely at the girls, who stare back with neutral expressions. Generally, Sirius is on good terms with Andromeda, one of the few people he tolerates in the family. Narcissa and Sirius, though?… bloody hell can those two bicker non-stop for hours, even when they both agree with the other! It’s simultaneously extremely annoying and exceptionally impressive. But Sirius undoubtedly views this as an ambush, so whatever goodwill he has for Andromeda follows Evan and Barty out the door.
Eventually, the magical charge in the air dissipates. “Right, this was obviously… it was obviously a mistake.” In spite of the damage done to his face, Sirius holds his chin high. “I’ll be on my way, then. G-goodbye, Regulus.”
Goodbye, not goodnight.
It sounds so formal, so final.
Desperation coats his words. “Wait, don’t go, please!” Childishly, he clings to his brother’s sleeve; it’s horrendously cringeworthy, but it gives Sirius pause, so perhaps the humiliation won’t be for naught. “Narcissa is only here to help, I promise. We want to help you, all three of us.”
To their credit, their cousins neither confirm nor refute his statement, and after a brief moment where he’s convinced Sirius is going to storm out of the room, his brother nods curtly.
“Right.” Andromeda gives the boys a critical once over. “Fortunately for Sirius, he can still pass as Regulus -”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sirius growls, quite similarly to a dog, Regulus absentmindedly notes.
Narcissa rolls her eyes. “That no one knows you, Sirius Black, are here in Slytherin, a place you’ve vehemently insisted you don’t belong and aren’t actually allowed to be in… obviously.”
Andromeda’s smile turns sly, and Regulus braces himself for a remark that’s going to send Sirius into one of his infamous meltdowns. “Hmm, probably won’t be able to pass for each other much longer though, seeing as how you’re nearly the same height. And with the way Regulus is growing,” and how Sirius isn’t, unsaid but heavily implied, “I’m certain the baby will eclipse you by the Christmas holidays, cousin.”
Sirius’s mouth drops open with an audible sound.
Regulus is wholly unsurprised when his brother grabs his arm, maneuvering him until they’re face-to-face. “Regulus Arcturus Black, now you listen here!” This close, he can tell his brother’s nose is definitely broken in at least two places, but the truly concerning part is Sirius's tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes, almost as if he was sobbing moments before making his way into the Slytherin Common Room. Sirius, for all his bravery and bluster, is much more likely than Regulus… and probably a lot of other people… to cry when he’s upset over something. But his breakdowns are usually staved off until he’s safely tucked into bed, hidden away from the rest of the world for a few hours. “You are not allowed to grow taller than me, do you understand? I expressly FORBID it, Regulus, that is not acceptable. I will write to Mother immediately if you don’t acquiesce… you might be her favorite, but she will be displeased if you outgrow the heir. It’s unseemly for the head of the family to be shorter than the other males… I command you to stop growing at once!”
Several responses line up on the tip of Regulus's tongue, including how he is most assuredly NOT Mother’s favorite, and if Sirius is so concerned about being the shortest, then maybe he should start growing… but he's distracted by the hands holding him in place, confused to find the skin unblemished. Did his brother not defend himself against his attacker? Or were those particular injuries the ones he was able to mend on his own? As fussy about his looks as he is, it makes sense that Sirius might opt to wait for someone else to heal his face... right?
“Sirius, release him,” Andromeda orders. “It’s uncouth to bleed on others, even if they are your family.”
“Oopsie… sorry, Reggie.”
Narcissa removes her wand from her robe; not a second later, Sirius’s own wand is leveled at her, pointed right between the eyes. “Relax, cousin, I merely seek to rectify the issue that is your face.” The blonde arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow, silently daring him to strike first.
Sirius looks like he’s seriously considering cursing their cousin, so Regulus takes a calculated (foolish, stupid, Gryffindor-esque) risk and wedges himself between the two. “Sirius, she’s by far the best in Slytherin at healing charms, probably better than anyone else in the whole school. In fact, Madam Pomfrey was so impressed by her abilities, she personally invited Narcissa to enroll in her Healing Magic class, a class that only accepts five students a year after a rigorous testing and interview process.” Sirius opens his mouth, but Regulus presses on, certain he knows what his brother is going to say. “I know you’re also quite skilled, but it’s common knowledge that it’s harder to heal yourself than someone else. Unless you’d prefer to be escorted upstairs to the Hospital Wing? I’m sure the matron would love to hear the story of your latest epic adventure, one that is undoubtedly a thrilling tale of a glorious battle between two fearsome foes.”
“It would be the most heinous of crimes for such a pretty face to be permanently disfigured due to lack of proper treatment,” Andromeda teases when Sirius doesn’t react, the most relaxed out of the four. “Can’t disappoint the female… and probably some of the male… population of Hogwarts, can we, Siri?”
Sirius stands rigidly for several moments, eyes skirting around the room, considering his options; eventually, he slips his wand back into his robe with a grumble. “Fine. But no funny business!”
“Aw, but I thought you liked jokes?” Narcissa grips his chin with three fingers, and with a precise flick of her wand, the blood marring Sirius’s naturally pale complexion disappears. “Don’t dish out what you can’t handle, cousin.”
He tries to squirm away, but Andromeda seizes his right arm, holding him in place; taking the hint, Regulus reaches for his left.
“Relax, brother,” Regulus whispers, angling his body in such a way that their cousins can’t see him grab his brother’s hand. “She’ll fix you right up, good as new.”
There’s a whopping thirty seconds of peace, the calm shattering the moment Sirius notices Narcissa’s tiny frown.
“What is it? What’s wrong?!” he wails, squeezing Regulus’s hand so hard, there’s a high probability the youngest Black will need treatment next. “Am I going to be ugly forever?”
Narcissa hesitates, like she’s not quite sure what to say, but after a quick tap of her wand at his nose, followed by Sirius’s squawk of pain/outrage, she huffs, “Just your usual amount of ugly. It’s all fixable, but… Sirius, whoever did this, they really did a number on you.”
He purses his lips, but refuses to answer the implied question.
“Oh, there’s no need to be so distrustful… you’re much too young to be this cynical, darling!” Now that the worst of his injuries are sorted, Andromeda frees Sirius from her clutches, Regulus following her lead. “You can tell us who roughed you up, it's not like we’re going to tattle.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sirius hisses through clenched teeth.
“And yet in spite of the many places you could go in this castle, you come all the way to your estranged brother’s dorm in Slytherin, a place you’ve never once spoken a good word about… I think you do want to talk about it.”
Regulus and Narcissa apprehensively observe the exchange, waiting for the imminent screaming match that always seems to happen whenever Sirius is in a room with a member of their family (and yes, while Sirius does usually get on with Andromeda, they’ve definitely had their spats in the past, though they’re usually about frivolous things, like Quidditch or whatever bizarre conspiracy theory Sirius last heard… or made up himself).
“Yes, well, Regulus doesn’t ask questions, he minds his own business.”
“Ha! I don’t believe that for a second, not when it comes to his brother.”
She’s right, of course. Unfortunately, Sirius doesn’t give him answers either… for now.
Sirius lifts his aristocratic nose in the air. “Where have your manners gone, cousin? It’s impolite to be so nosy. Your mother would be appalled.”
Here we go again, Regulus thinks bitterly. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to seek out their assistance.
But Andromeda doesn’t take offense… instead, she laughs in his face. “Your Mother would be appalled! It’s undignified for someone of your status to get into brawls like a common Muggle. Are you a wizard or not?”
“Touche,” Sirius huffs, immaturely sticking his tongue out at their cousin… the appendage quickly returns to its proper place after Andromeda casually mentions this ‘fascinating tongue removal curse Bellatrix taught us over the summer, would you like to see a demonstration, Regulus?’.
“Well, in the name of self-preservation,” Narcissa remarks civilly, “which I know isn’t really your style, but honestly, you should look into it… I’d advise against upsetting this person again if you prefer to maintain your ‘dashing good looks'.”
“Noted,” Sirius grunts, looking aggrieved as he mumbles out a ‘thank you, Cissa’.
Narcissa’s charms reduced the worst of the swelling, but she still recommends he use a bruise paste around his eye for several days. Certain his brother won’t follow the advice without further prompting, Regulus disappears into the room’s adjoining bathroom.
Sirius stares unblinkingly at the jar he's handed, like he doesn’t know what it could possibly be. “For your eye,” Regulus says slowly, mimicking his brother’s tone from earlier. “Obviously.”
Lightly smacking Regulus’s arm for the sass, Sirius snatches the container out of his hand before the offering can be rescinded. “Wait a ‘mo… why do you have such a large amount of this? I can tell it’s a fresh brew, so don’t try and pretend like you’ve had it for a long time. Apothecaries sell this in batches half the size and advertise it’ll last for a year… for a family, Regulus, not one person.”
Shitshitshitshit.
Over the years, people have, for one reason or another, bemoaned about Sirius being unintelligent, an imbecile, ‘not the brightest by any means, which is such a pity considering his namesake’. But Regulus knows how exceptionally intelligent his older brother truly is… and in moments like this? He hates it.
“Uh… Quidditch -”
“Bollocks, you’re a terrible liar.” Belatedly realizing he could have said Barty and Evan use it too, fuck, he attempts to expand his answer, but Sirius steamrolls right over him. “Is someone picking on you again, Regulus? You can tell me who it is, brother, I’ll take care of it.”
“No one -”
“Actually, who am I kidding, I know you won’t tell me outright who’s harassing you, since for some Merlin-forsaken reason, you refuse to rat anybody out when it comes to your own wellbeing. So, if I guess the name, you can just nod when I get it right, yeah? That shouldn’t go against your little Reggie-Snaky-Code-of-Ethics.” Surprise, surprise, Sirius starts listing names without giving Regulus a chance to speak. “Is it Snape? Yaxley? Avery 1… Avery 2? Nott? Wait, no, it’s that arsehole Travers again, isn’t it? No? Hmm, that fellow from Durmstrang? He looks like a brute, I oughta have a few words with him later on…”
“NO ONE IS PICKING ON ME!” Regulus bristles when Sirius only scoffs. So what if he did ask for the ointment after some older students started bothering him? It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle himself, he bruises easily, that’s all. Besides, neither of those ruffians are on the team this year, so now he’ll only require it for legitimate Quidditch injuries… assuming they don't catch him when he’s on his own. But it's fine. “I can defend myself just fine, brother.”
Sirius’s lip curls, but he doesn’t continue pestering Regulus. Instead, he whirls around to face Narcissa, waving the closed jar in front of her face. “How could you brew this for him without asking why he needed it in the first place, Cissa? I know it’s your work, I can sense your magic all over it.”
Go figure… his brother doesn’t even seem to realize how uncommon of an ability that is, being able to perceive someone’s magical signature so easily. Sure, they’re family, but there’s no guarantee Narcissa’s magic feels similar to Sirius’s, nor can most people even sense magical signatures in the first place.
“Of course I asked, you pillock!” she shrieks, both hands on her hips. Sirius blinks, startled by her raised voice; Narcissa isn’t one to shout, preferring to put her adversaries in place with cutting words spoken at a normal volume. “He asked for it after a particularly rough Quidditch practice last year, and then made his way through it over the course of the school year. Since I have come to accept that Regulus won’t stop playing that barbaric sport no matter how many times I nicely suggest he take up a safer hobby," blimey, thank Merlin, that got old real fast, "I brewed him a new batch when I had some spare time this summer.”
“Okay, okay! Ow!! Stop poking me, you crazed woman, you need to trim those talons… ow! -”
It’s fascinating to watch his arrogant, defiant brother become suitably cowed the longer Narcissa’s rant continues… perhaps their peers are right to be so terrified of her!
“I am astounded,” moving like she’s going to poke him again, Narcissa instead kicks Sirius in the shin… hard, “by your audacious insinuation that I won’t do right by my family, though considering your lack of caring in regards to matters affecting anyone whose surname is ‘Black’, I can only presume you have somehow mixed us up!”
Face flushing an unflattering crimson, Sirius screeches, “I CARE ABOUT REGULUS! AND LAST I CHECKED, HIS SURNAME WAS BLACK, SO THERE!”
“YOU DON’T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT HIM!” Narcissa immaturely yells back. “NOT ANYMORE!”
“YES, I DO, I NEVER STOPPED!”
“NO, SIRIUS, YOU DO NOT, AND EVERYONE KNOWS IT, INCLUDING HIM!”
“YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING, YOU FUC -”
“Lower your voices, now,” Andromeda doesn’t need to raise her voice to sound threatening, “and mind your manners, or you’re all getting silencing charms… yes, even you, Regulus.”
Well, that’s rather unfair.
Sirius wisely heeds her warning. “I may not have outwardly shown it the last few years, and for that I am regretful, but I will do better.” Oh bugger… yeah, that sounds nice on the surface, but it sends a wave of dread flooding through Regulus, who’s unfortunately well versed in how overbearing his brother can be when he puts his mind to it. “So, don’t you dare insinuate I don’t look after my little brother, Cissy, you don’t know the first fucking thing about us.”
“Is that so?” Narcissa’s laugh is caustic. “Where were you those first few months when he had recurring nightmares almost every night about drowning?”
“You assured me those stopped, Regulus!”
Gesturing toward one of the three windows that looks out into the Black Lake, Regulus shrugs, no additional explanation necessary. Perhaps he told a few white lies during one of Sirius’s late night visits, who knows? It was so terribly long ago, impossible to remember…
“And where were you when he was homesick and wouldn’t leave his dorm?” Did she really have to bring that up? He was eleven! “Where were you when those sixth-years were teasing him about his troublemaking Gryffindor brother? Where were you when he couldn’t get certain charms right, no matter how hard he tried? Where were you when he was sick with the flu last year? When he needed help with his Potions homework? When he broke his arm after his first Quidditch game? When he had a concussion after his last Quidditch game? Where have you been these last few years, Sirius Orion?! Because Andromeda and I were here, but we saw neither hide nor hair of you, so don’t you DARE lecture us about our dedication to YOUR brother.”
Sirius’s jaw is clenched so tightly, Regulus can hear his teeth grinding together. But instead of yelling back like they all expect… or attempting to make a case for himself, seeing as how he was involved in Regulus’s life last semester, butting into his younger brother’s business in a rather antagonistic manner, while somehow still managing to be helpful… he exhales loudly, shoulders slumping.
“You’re right, Narcissa… I’m sorry.” Wait wait wait, what? Sirius, Sirius is sorry? What the everlasting fuck is happening here? “I have been a shit brother, the shittiest to ever exist, but I swear to all of you, I will do better.” He swallows roughly, his eyes darting to Regulus before returning to Narcissa. “I’m indebted to you… both of you… for keeping an eye on him in my place. You have my sincerest gratitude.”
His uncharacteristic apology rips the wind right out of her sails, and she blinks, bewildered by the lack of argument; soon, both Black sisters are peering at Sirius like he’s an unusual specimen they’ve never encountered before.
Fiddling with a loose thread on his robe, Regulus unthinkingly mutters, “You’ll be around for as long as you need something from me.” Fuck, that wasn’t what he meant to say. Why does he always ruin things between him and Sirius? “Wait, I didn’t mean -”
His brother, shockingly, doesn’t look affronted. “Don’t be a prat, Regulus, it’s unbecoming of a Black.” Sirius grins roguishly for a second until his expression falls. “Reggie, I watched you, my little brother… my only brother… nearly die this summer. Twice! It was like reliving your early childhood all over again, back when you were sick more often than you were healthy, and all the adults were convinced you were gonna snuff it before you were old enough to receive your Hogwarts letter. It was a metaphorical kick in the arse, forced me to reexamine my priorities.”
“It was only once this time,” Regulus grumbles petulantly. He despises any reminders of his first six years of life, when he was constantly bedridden with illness after illness, born with an immune system unable to fight off the most basic of contagions. The number of times he overheard their family Healer warning his parents he likely wouldn’t make it through the night?… double digits, easily. Now, years later, the memories are more like a hazy dream rather than something that actually happened to him. One thing Regulus does remember, though? Sirius remained vigilantly at his bedside, each and every time. “And it wasn’t your fault, it was mine, so do us all a favor and stop blaming yourself because I know how you are.”
“Twice, and we can agree to disagree about where the blame resides.” Sirius lightly flicks him in the forehead, and then successfully dodges Regulus’s retaliating kick, the bastard. “And fine, the first time was much worse than the second, though the second is an incident of which you are still recovering from, might I add.”
Narcissa and Andromeda turn their angry looks on him, and Regulus wilts under their obvious displeasure. “This is news to us, Regulus Black.”
“It wasn’t that bad, really,” the younger teen replies with an uneasy laugh. “My brother is being dramatic, per usual.”
Oof, now Sirius is visibly mad too, good going, Regulus.
“Dramatic, am I? I sat by your bedside while you were unconscious and barely breathing for two fucking weeks, Regulus, do you understand what that was like?” He snorts bitterly. “No, of course you don’t, and for that, I’m grateful. But brother, seeing you like that, it was like a scene straight out of my childhood nightmares.”
Bloody hell, Regulus wistfully remembers a time when they actively avoided discussing uncomfortable memories, and Merlin knows there were a lot of those growing up... can they go back to that? Please?
Sirius smacks his own forehead. “Oh dear, silly me, how could I forget… it wasn’t a nightmare, but a snippet of memory from when you were six-years-old. Do you remember that, Regulus? DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN YOUR HEART STOPPED BEATING RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME? WHEN YOU STOPPED BREATHING, BECAUSE YOU DIED ? I SURE AS FUCK REMEMBER, AND I SWORE TO MYSELF IT WOULD NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN, NOT IF I HAD ANY SAY -” Sirius snaps his mouth shut, and takes a slow, deep breath, then releases it all at once. “Er… apologies for losing my temper, I have very strong feelings regarding this, as you can see.”
burden, burden, burden, you do nothing but burden everyone around you, why do you even exist when you just make everybody's life worse.
“I’m sorry,” Regulus whispers, choked by the familiar guilt from his childhood. Strangely enough, he doesn’t remember much from that particular illness, though he feels like he should, considering it was the last time he was left bed-ridden by one. Now, Regulus gets sick about as often as Sirius, which is basically never. From what he gathered afterwards… his family had been exceptionally tight-lipped about the ordeal, more so than their usual ‘if we don’t mention it, it doesn’t exist’ mentality… his heart stopped beating, but when his panicked brother touched his wrist to check for a pulse, a burst of accidental magic surged through his fingertips, the subsequent shock powerful enough to restart his heart. Naturally, since Regulus was raised with manners, he thanked his sibling the first chance he got, acknowledging he owed Sirius a life debt… needless to say, Sirius did not agree with such a statement, and unwilling to risk his brother’s promised wrath, Regulus never brought it up again.
Standing regally next to Sirius, Narcissa’s demeanor is similar to the one she adopts when she’s overseeing an argument between two quarreling first-years; it radiates disappointment. “Curious how you forgot to mention any of this when we talked about your summer, both by owl post and a few days ago on the train. If I recall correctly, you said it went ‘surprisingly well’. Now, please clarify for me, Regulus, as I seem to lack the proper education on this matter - since when does nearly dying, twice, denote a ‘surprisingly well’ summer?”
“I didn’t die, so that’s positive, right?” Regulus mumbles meekly. “I might make it to adulthood after all!… hip-hip-hooray.”
Huh, who knew Sirius and Narcissa could look so similar with their matching incensed expressions?
“We missed dinner,” Andromeda interrupts, taking pity on him, bless her.
Sirius’s angry expression doesn’t disappear right away, but his ire melts when Regulus’s stomach growls. “I can make a run to the kitchens?”
“I have some food stashed in my trunk, though it’s not a lot considering the semester just started,” Narcissa adds, causing Andromeda to roll her eyes. “Yes, I know your feelings on the whole thing, sister, but it’s come in handy too many times to count, so why stop?”
“Wait a minute, you do that too?!” Sirius gasps.
“Do what, precisely?” she sniffs in faked confusion.
Per usual, the Black heir handles the delicate situation with exactly zero tact. “Hide food in your room because your parents used to send you to bed without meals as punishment?”
Growing up, the most common punishment for minor indiscretions was being sent to their room without meals. Sirius, a renegade at heart, endured it much more frequently than his brother, to the point where Regulus mastered lock-picking by the age of five, motivated by the desire to deliver as much additional sustenance as he could get away with taking (he credits his talent to a fancy silver hair barrette he ‘borrowed’ from Bellatrix, the exorbitant amount of time he had to read thanks to his constant bouts of illness, and their Uncle Alphard’s assorted taste in novels - for Regulus’s third birthday, he gifted his nephew a French book series about a young wizard who utilized both magical and muggle means on his globetrotting adventures).
“I don’t particularly care to go hungry,” Narcissa mutters, cheeks painted pink. “And we’re growing, so it’s unwise to go without proper nutrition, even for a short period of time. But Mother and Father never cared when I mentioned that.”
“Pipsy,” Regulus calls before Sirius or Andromeda can respond, deciding the polite thing to do in this situation would be to extend the same courtesy his cousin showed him to her younger sister.
With a loud pop, Regulus’s second-favorite house elf appears in front of him. “How can Pipsy be serving Regulus, sir?”
“Pipsy,” he lowers himself onto his knees, always finding it uncomfortable to look down on the petite creatures when talking to them, “could you please bring us whatever food you have available in the kitchens so we may eat in the room? I apologize for the inconvenience, but we accidentally missed dinner due to an impromptu family reunion.”
Her expression takes on a familiar look of disapproval. “Pipsy should be lecturing Regulus… again… on the bad effects skipping meals can have on growing witches and wizards, but Pipsy also knows how important family is to Regulus, so she will not be telling Blitzy and the other elves about him breaking the pinky promise to not miss a meal in the Great Hall ever again, since Regulus is making sure to eat now when it's not too late after dinner.” She shakes a finger at him. “But house elves is not forgetful creatures, so we is happy to tell Regulus when it’s time to eat if Regulus needs reminders, it would be no trouble at all.”
“That won’t be necessary, it won’t happen again,” Regulus says with what is hopefully a convincing smile. “But I thank you for your generous offer, Pipsy.”
She disappears with a dubious look, and he grimaces internally when Sirius loudly clears his throat. “And just how many meals have you skipped to concern the house elves, Reg?” He throws his hands in the air. “We talked about this, too… MANY TIMES, in fact!”
It’s not Regulus’s fault, okay?! Everyone acts like he purposefully chooses not to eat, but when he occasionally does miss a meal, it’s because he lost track of time, too focused on an assignment or whatever book he’s reading. It only happens once or twice a week now, which is not frequent by any means.
Whatever happened to the adage, ‘progress, not perfection’?
“Pipsy is handling it, so Sirius Black should not worry,” the house elf remarks when she pops back into the room, though Regulus is slightly unsettled by the wary glances she sends his brother.
Merlin, does he want to know what Sirius did to have the kind-hearted elf looking at him like he’s Undesirable Number One?
… nah, probably not.
Sirius, who’s more observant than people tend to give him credit for, picks up on it, too. “I thank you for your diligent service, Lady Pipsy, I know it’s a daunting undertaking to get this one to consistently show up for meals.”
“Sirius Black speaks the truth. But we house elves is not scared of hard work.”
“Oh, I know. But to be clear, I will always worry about Regulus, it’s in the ‘older brother’ job description.” After a few seconds of hesitation, Sirius bows his head, scuffing the toe of his (obnoxiously expensive) boot across the floor. “But um, could you please inform Lila she may return to cleaning my dorm room again, if she so desires?”
Ah, everything makes sense now; of course the house elves would hate Sirius if his brother was ‘stealing’ what they considered to be their rightful work.
Pipsy gapes at the Black heir. “Sirius Black will no longer clean his own rooms, as he has been since he was a first-year?”
“Correct,” the Gryffindor confirms sheepishly. “Sirius Black has learned his lesson about doing work that is not his business to be doing, and he is very sorry if he was rude about it… though, he would like to add, it was probably in the best interest and safety of all the house elves to not enter that room over the years. But that’s no longer the case, and they should be alright, so long as they don’t eat anything they find… not that they would, but you know -”
… there’s no way a house elf beat him up, right? Regulus is 1000% sure Kreacher would love to give Sirius a good smack down, but he presumes the internal behavioral code-of-conduct all house elves seem to be born with would prevent any of the tiny creatures from striking a wizard, unless otherwise ordered to do so by their human Master.
Might he have gotten into a spat with one of his friends over his obsessive need to clean and organize everything he can get his hands on? Seems plausible, but they’ve just started their fifth year together… surely Sirius’s friends would have adapted to his manic habits by now? Even their family has!
It seems like a lifetime ago, but Sirius wasn’t always a neatfreak. Regulus thinks his brother was around six-years-old when he came to fully understand/accept that Kreacher’s loyalty lies with their parents (Mother more so than Father, though the patriarch was technically his Master); in a fit of childish rage, borderlining on paranoia, he forbade the house elf from entering his room for any reason, unless called by Sirius himself. Their parents could have easily overruled the command since Sirius wasn’t Kreacher’s owner, but Father opted to let it play out, decreeing his eldest son’s order could remain, so long as Sirius maintained the tidiness of his room to their ‘acceptable standards’.
They expected Sirius to fail.
Sirius, headstrong, defiant, and clever enough to get away with it, did not fail, not in the slightest.
To be fair to their parents, it was unprecedented how… serious… Sirius took the ruling. Their oldest son was intelligent, yes, but also significantly less studious and diligent with his studies than expected of the eventual head of their family.
Learning to do chores by hand was the first step. Washing and drying his clothes, dusting, mopping his bedroom floor, scrubbing the walls, cleaning windows and mirrors, polishing his shoes… Sirius did all of it, and more. Swiftly making his way through the paltry selection of relevant tomes in the library at Grimmauld Place, he harassed their tutors into procuring additional books for him, dedicating countless hours to learning the most efficient methods for completing each task.
After the research came the gathering of supplies; during a visit to Uncle Alphard’s countryside cottage, Sirius ‘tricked’ the older man into teaching him how to order from catalogs, claiming he wanted to ‘discreetly purchase a gift for Mother’s birthday because Regulus and I wish to show her how much we appreciate her’. Their mother’s brother definitely did not buy that flimsy excuse, but since he found Sirius’s ‘rebellious streak delightfully entertaining’ (a direct quote, said to Sirius himself with Regulus as witness), he supported his nephew whenever he could. Last but not least, at the next family gathering, Sirius struck up a conversation with Aunt Lucretia regarding how magazine subscriptions work; with that immensely helpful information, he proceeded to subscribe their household to fourteen different Magical Housekeeping publications. He's not sure if his brother even realizes it, but all of Sirius’s planning and research would have been wasted if it weren’t for Regulus himself, who offhandedly suggested the use of Uncle Alphard’s address for the delivery. Thanks to Father making Grimmauld Place unplottable (and adding layers upon layers of additional wards), Uncle Alphard’s owl, Aphrodite, was one of the few in the world who could deliver mail to them… meaning Sirius would have spent a boatload of money for items that would never be delivered. Unsurprisingly, Uncle Alphard was happy to forward along everything his nephew ordered, sometimes delivering it in person to give his poor owl a well-deserved break.
Once the art of cleaning by hand was mastered, Sirius practiced with magic whenever he could borrow a wand, usually lent by their tutors or an indulgent family member. Supportive of his sibling’s hobby, Regulus had no qualms about utilizing his innate talent for pick-pocketing wands from less-obliging visiting relatives whenever necessary. Forever a worrywart, Sirius always chastised him for the temporary rehoming, you’re gonna get caught one day, Reggie, it’s not worth it (not once did he get caught, thank you very much), but Regulus tuned him out, unrepentant. The joyous sparkle in his brother’s eyes when he was presented with a pilfered wand, the pride in his expression, directed at Regulus… Sirius, his older brother, was happy because of him, was proud of him, proud of Regulus (until he remembered he was supposed to be setting a good example for his younger brother, blah blah blah)... how could anyone expect Regulus to stop? Besides, he always returned the wand to the rightful owner, long before they noticed anything amiss, it's not like he permanently stole anything.
Sirius was diligent about these particular studies, no one could argue that, but from Regulus's perspective, it it was the quiet support of Grandmother Melania that had the biggest impact on the outcome of his journey. Concluding her oldest grandson could only tidy his room so many times before running out of things to do, she waited until he was within earshot to make a flippant remark to Grandfather about a stash of wands once owned by various Blacks throughout the years, a comment that provided nine-year-old Sirius with just enough information to discover them in a nondescript trunk in the basement. Wand in hand, his capabilities soared, and then just as Grandmother anticipated, Sirius’s desire for a pristine and orderly environment expanded outside the confines of his room.
In all likeliehood, it was the drastic increase in complaints from Walburga regarding her unmalleable firstborn that tipped Grandmother off that her prediction came to pass. Under the guise of providing her son and his wife a reprieve from their children, she invited both of her grandsons to Black Manor for the summer months. Unbeknownst to their parents, however, Grandmother actively encouraged Sirius to practice his household charms in every room within their sprawling estate, listening intently to his excited explanations of what he intended to accomplish, while offering advice or suggestions as needed (Grandfather Arcturus turned a blind eye that summer, and Regulus could never determine if it was because of his known soft spot for his wife, who was outspoken in regards to her preference for her grandsons over her actual children, or a secret soft spot for his oldest grandson… or maybe he merely enjoyed how Sirius’s tenacious spirit made his own son’s life hellacious?)
Somewhere along the way, Sirius developed a knack for interior decorating and an ability to optimize a specific space to its fullest potential, a useful trait in a family prone to hoarding. Upon seeing the renovations throughout Black Manor, other family members started randomly inviting Sirius over for tea, and after providing some vague instructions, left him to his own devices; when they returned, their rooms were completely revamped, and they typically received a list of suggestions for further modifications.
It drove Mother spare to hear about Sirius’s talents in areas she deemed beneath them. There were constant screaming matches about the shame he was bringing on their family by conducting himself like a ‘glorified house elf’. Once, she even went so far as to forbid him from engaging in any of those ‘degrading behaviors’, but after a month where Sirius was inordinately disobedient, defiant, unruly, getting into all sorts of trouble both inside the house and outside of it, Father lifted the ban, rationalizing that he’d rather have a house elf for a son than a demon. Mother did not take his decision well, but Regulus?... hiding in the loo, he silently wept with relief at the news, grateful Sirius would once again have something calm and benign to occupy his attention, having borne the brunt of his brother’s boredom and frustration.
The Black family, sans Mother, eventually came to tolerate Sirius’s compulsive need to ‘fix-up’ his surroundings, but the trait was something Regulus accepted from the very beginning. Perhaps it made sense then that this particular characteristic of Sirius’s indirectly led to the improved relationship between them. A month into their most recent summer break, Sirius approached Father with a detailed plan to renovate Grimmauld Place from top to bottom, painstakingly breaking it down room by room. But before he could really get into upgrading the main areas of the house, the overflowing attic and basement needed to be cleaned out and reorganized. The patriarch agreed to the proposal, but only on one condition - Sirius was forbidden from working alone in either of those rooms. Their home had been in the Black family for generations, and Regulus would be hard pressed to believe anyone had gone into either the basement or the attic for any reason except to add more junk - the amount of dark artifacts contained in each room was staggering.
Sirius being Sirius, waited until Father left the house later that week before beginning his self-assigned task. The first order of business - barge into Regulus’s room to demand he ‘report to the basement in twenty minutes because Father says you’ve gotta help me clean it out’. The younger teen protested, of course, but Sirius quickly shut that down with a sassy, ‘do you want to tell Father you’ve decided to go against his express wishes, or do I get the honor?’
Their long absences went unnoticed by their parents, as Sirius diligently ensured they arrived on time for every meal, their appearance impeccable thanks to his knowledge of laundry and hair freshening charms (Regulus should have been suspicious when his brother mentioned it’d be best not to discuss what they were working on upstairs with their parents because ‘you know how Mother feels about me renovating the house’... a legitimate point, so he didn’t think twice about it).
Everything went well for two weeks; they didn’t bicker all that often, both highly entertained by their discussions regarding the various items they found, including the book that provided awful advice for attracting witches (Sirius declared as soon as they got back to Hogwarts, he was going to give a girl a cheese wheel as a token of his affections like the book suggested, pinky-swearing to update Regulus with the results), to the silky black robes shining with whatever glittery constellations were visible in the sky that time of year (fortunately, there were two sets, as they were prepared to duel for the chance to reclaim them as their own), to the copious portraits in different art styles of a long deceased relative posing with his family of kneazles (there was one painting of him with his wife and two children, but a staggering thirty-seven with him and his kneazles… he was a man with his priorities in order, Regulus decided). Leaping at the opportunity to express his most dramatic self, Sirius passed the time sorting through the boring items by concocting wild theories about the history of the unique objects they uncovered, constantly leaving Regulus in tears from laughing so hard.
The ornate crystal bottle with a large opal set into the stopper, full of what appeared to be blood, carried a sordid tale, one where a female relative fell head over heels for a vampire she met on her travels while trying to ‘discover herself’ before her arranged marriage. Besotted by her kindness and charmed by her elegant beauty, he followed her back to her home country where, unbeknownst to her husband, they remained together for over a decade. Star-crossed lovers in a nearly picture-perfect union, there was only one point of dissidence - unnerved by the thought of living forever, she kept refusing his offer to turn her into a vampire. Yet as the years passed, she grew increasingly distressed over her inevitable mortality, terrified her immortal lover would soon forget her. To circumvent this fear, she began collecting her blood in the opulent bottle, intending to present it to him as a token of her affections, with the thought being that she’ll always be with him, even long after her departure from this world. Regulus, naturally, interrupted to ask why she’d give her vampire lover her blood if he wasn’t meant to drink it… Sirius had scoffed, rolled his eyes, and explained that it was a test of his loyalty, because he would undoubtedly burst into flames the moment his lips touched the first drop of blood, obviously, Reggie, don’t be daft. But the woman’s husband discovered her infidelity before she could gift the bottle away, and in a fit of rage, murdered her in such a gruesome, appalling manner, that Sirius opted to spare his little brother the details, ‘as they were so horrible, many who have heard the truth were driven to take their own lives’. With her last dying breath, she placed a curse on the crystal bottle, causing it to slowly leak a poisonous gas into the air, driving her former-husband into madness... while also unintentionally waking a dark presence within the walls of their shared home.
It was near the end of this saga when everything went to shit. Listening to Sirius’s passionate narration of their ‘family history’, a distracted Regulus blindly reached into an open trunk. They’d been utilizing a variety of detection spells to reveal objects enchanted with dark magic, and uh… Regulus forgot to use any that time, oops. The moment his skin touched the ornate door knocker, his body recoiled from the overwhelming sense of wrongness. But it was too late. The last thing he recalls before waking up in his bed more than two weeks later was Sirius’s horror-stricken expression, followed by the thought, ‘oh bollocks, he’s going to be mad I ruined the end of his story.’
For sixteen days, Regulus remained unconscious and on the brink of death. Mother, Father, Sirius, and Kreacher scoured every book available to them for a counter-curse, their parents refusing to contact anyone else for assistance, declaring it wasn’t necessary, unless Regulus’s condition ‘worsened’ (Sirius later said he staunchly believed they were reluctant to admit their son almost died under their roof in an easily avoidable manner - ‘their pride nearly cost you your life, brother, never forget that’). Grimmauld Place was cut off from outside communication, preventing anyone from popping in unexpectedly, while also ensuring Sirius couldn’t disobey their direct order. Once Regulus recovered, the radio silence was explained away by their parents, who claimed they were testing new security measures. Thankfully, the answer to his plight was discovered by Sirius in a box of books he had relocated from the attic to his bedroom, and Mother brewed the needed potion with ingredients Kreacher discreetly purchased from Knockturn Alley.
With his youngest son awake and on the mend, Orion Black, typically the calmer, more level headed parent, uncharacteristically lost his temper, furiously screaming at his children for their foolhardiness in defying his one rule. Sirius adamantly refused to look Regulus’s way while they were being reprimanded, staying quiet as Father continued to shout, never once interrupting to defend himself or explain his side of the story. It disturbed Regulus so greatly, that he too kept his silence, allowing the blame to be split evenly between them. When Father finally exhausted himself, he ended his lecture by saying he could only hope they’ve learned their lesson, ‘seeing as how your impudence nearly cost one of you your lives’.
The silence following his admonishment didn’t last long. Sirius, whose chin quivered during the entirety of the lecture, who had unintentionally broken the skin of his bottom lip from biting it so hard, began fervently weeping, collapsing half-on-top of Regulus with a mixture of incoherent apologies and gut-wrenching sobs. The tears were undoubtedly real - Sirius wasn’t that good of an actor, but the overwhelming (and frankly unexpected) anguish for someone he once claimed not to give a rat’s arse about rendered the other three Blacks speechless. Inconsolable for hours, days even, Sirius plastered himself to Regulus’s side, obstinately refusing to be separated from his brother for more than a few minutes at a time. Regulus tolerated it, knew Sirius would eventually get it out of his system (which he did… until he didn’t), but he had to put his foot down when the older teen tried to follow him into the bath, striking a compromise that Sirius could sit on the other side of the closed door. The clinginess got so bad that Father actually suggested his eldest son fire-call Potter to see about spending the weekend at Potter Manor to ‘get some fresh air’. Normally, Sirius had to grovel to see his mates over the holidays... he politely declined the offer, saying if he wanted fresh air, he’d just crack a window, thanks.
For some incomprehensible reason, Regulus wanted to continue their quest of cleaning out the attic, whinging day after day for a week straight until Sirius begrudgingly relented. Mother, to his brother’s dismay, was the one to accompany them. The atmosphere alternated so quickly between calm and contentious that it gave Regulus whiplash. It was their fifth day in the attic as a trio when everything went to shit for a second time; Sirius and Mother were in a tempestuous discussion regarding what to do with a pile of old newspapers when Walburga made a scathing remark to her son, leading Sirius to make a disparaging comment in retaliation, and Regulus, distracted once again, decided he rather liked the gold watch encrusted with diamonds he found in the jewelry box he was sifting through. Had he been paying attention, he would have noticed that the ‘diamonds’ were a crystalized poison that would dissolve when someone put the watch on, melted by the wearer’s body heat, the entire piece oozing dark magic.
The following minutes were hazy. Regulus’s eyes started stinging, something thick dripping down his cheek. Dabbing his face with a handkerchief, he became concerned by the alarming rate in which blood was staining the cloth; he remembers tugging on Mother’s sleeve… her peeved expression for his interruption… asking to borrow her handkerchief… showing her his stained one as a wordless explanation… Sirius’s panicked exclamations… his shrieked calls for Kreacher… his frantic screams that Kreacher get Father at once… the thought of, oh dear, I think my nose is bleeding, too… Father’s ‘seriously, again?’ expression… Mother angrily demanding him to tell her where he found the watch… pointing to the jewelry box… and then he fainted.
Only unconscious for a day, Regulus chalked it up to a minor setback. So what if he’s required to use medicated eye drops for the next few months to avoid any permanent damage to his vision? No big deal, just another minor inconvenience in a lifetime filled with minor inconveniences. Except Sirius vehemently refused to continue working in the attic, dubbing the entire renovation project a lost cause. It irked Regulus to no end, the thought of not finishing something they started together. With his logical, persuasive arguments unable to sway his brother’s decision, he had to devise an alternative means to ensure he got his way; using Kreacher as a messenger… since Sirius was again following him everywhere except to the lavatory… Regulus pitched his case to Father in favor of proceeding. How he did it, Regulus will likely never know, but Orion Black somehow managed to convince his eldest son he needed to finish what was started.
Both Mother and Father joined them in the attic for the remainder of the summer (the basement would be cleaned out over Winter Break… Regulus is so looking forward to spending his Christmas Holidays knee deep in dark artifacts and never-ending dust, hooray). It wasn’t picture-perfect by any means, every day bringing some new argument or spat. A startling number of those quarrels centered around Mother and Sirius attempting to outdo each other with their tales of the Black family history. Shouting until they were red in the face and short of breath, they’d whirl on their heels to demand their audience, Regulus, Father, & Kreacher, choose whose version of history was better. Blimey, they were so fucking competitive, and so very similar… but Regulus values his life too much to ever point that out. Under the supervision of Mother and Father... along with Sirius breathing down Regulus’s neck to ensure he wouldn’t do anything ‘brainless’... there weren’t any further injuries or brushes with death either, always a win in his book.
Sirius would go ballistic if Regulus ever confessed to feeling this way, but if a visit (or two) to Death’s doorstep was all it took to start mending the tears in their bond, then… he’d do it all again in a heartbeat, self-preservation instincts be damned.
Conjuring a table and four chairs near Wrath’s cat house (a miniature replica of Hogwarts), Pipsy loads the table with enough food and drink for eight people. “Pipsy will be happy to inform Lila of Sirius Black’s request.” Upon confirming they need nothing else, Regulus thanks her for her help, and the house elf pops away with a curtsy.
“Why am I not surprised you’re on a first-name basis with the house elves?” Andromeda teases, ruffling his hair as she heads to the table.
Plopping himself down in the seat that provides him a view of the entire room, his back to the wall, Sirius snorts. “Uh, because Regulus would rather befriend every house elf in existence than strike up a conversation with his peers.” The Gryffindor playfully sticks his tongue out before remembering himself. “Duh, Andie, this is common knowledge.”
Taking the chair on his brother’s left, Regulus opens his mouth to argue, but then shuts it when he realizes Sirius is right. “House elves are exceptionally intelligent beings, you know. The magical community could benefit from their vast knowledge, if only they’d set aside their prejudices and stop disregarding them."
Without prompting, Sirius grabs his brother’s plate and piles it high with steak, roasted fingerling potatoes, and a sautéed vegetable medley. The cooked carrots on Regulus’s plate are then swapped with the cauliflower on Sirius’s plate, the younger only receiving it back after the steak is cut into bite-sized pieces. Accustomed to this sort of behavior after ten years of it, Regulus doesn’t bat an eye (it began when he was four years old and nearly choked to death on a piece of pork roast at some charity luncheon, too impatient to cut it up properly because he’d been starving. These days, Sirius only cuts Regulus's food for him if he can easily get his hands on the younger's plate, but honestly, Regulus sometimes just nudges it over himself - a few seconds of awkwardness is loads better than enduring Sirius's relentless staring while he eats).
“What?” Sirius growls defensively, catching Andromeda and Narcissa’s matching looks of exasperation. “He needs to eat more, he’s too skinny.” Regulus shifts self-consciously in his seat. He’s skinny, sure, but he’s not too skinny... so what if he’s not as muscular as his brother, he’s built for a different position, where being thin and lightweight is ideal. And okay, maybe the bones in Regulus’s wrist do protrude a bit, and perhaps his ribs are visible, depending on the way he moves, but that’s normal. “Anyways... how are the preparations for Bella’s wedding coming along?”
Attention focused on cutting his own steak, Sirius sounds wholly uninterested in the answer.
Oh, but Regulus knows it’s merely a ruse; his brother is highly invested.
“Quite well, thank you,” Narcissa responds primly. “Of course, it’s all thanks to your brother’s invaluable assistance.”
Sirius perks up at the response. “Regulus worked very hard on it, I’m sure I speak for us both when I say it’s a relief to hear Bella is pleased.”
In the initial days of summer break, a handful of weeks before Sirius finalized his master plan to renovate their home, Regulus was peacefully reading a book on the landing to his room, (mostly) minding his own business. Out of a childish habit he’ll probably never grow out of, because it’s bloody useful, he listened with half an ear to the conversation downstairs; their cousin, Bellatrix, was ranting and raving to Mother about the massive headache that planning her wedding had turned into.
Regulus nearly fell down the stairs when his name was mentioned.
“Bellatrix, calm yourself! I assure you, Regulus would be honored to assist his favorite cousin with her wedding preparations,” Mother loftily pronounced. “He has an eye for these types of things, as I’m sure you are well aware. Such a shame the same cannot be said for that wretched older brother of his.”
Distracted by his astonishment at how Walburga Black always found a way to insult her oldest son when conversing with their relatives… regardless of the topic of conversation… he almost missed her summons for him.
Mentally cursing his entire existence, Regulus had just risen to his feet when Sirius’s bedroom door quietly opened. Taking one look at his flustered sibling, Sirius rolled his eyes and grabbed the younger boy by the elbow, leading him downstairs with a muttered, “Mother doesn’t like to be kept waiting, you should know this by now, brother.”
Standing solidly behind Regulus, Sirius didn’t say a word as Mother volunteered her youngest son to prepare a book of ideas for Bella’s wedding, one that would be owled to her at the ‘end of the week’.
It was already Wednesday.
Sirius let him flounder for 24-hours, a single day, but one that felt like an eternity. Because Regulus doesn’t ‘have an eye for these sorts of things’, nor does he possess the patience for such frivolous matters. Mother knows this, Father knows this, literally everyone in the family knows this, including the blasted portraits, and while it obviously wasn’t an accident that Mother lauded praise on him for something Sirius excels at, Regulus would still be the one required to complete the project. How fucking fantastic.
The next evening, Sirius found him hunched over a wedding catalog, its pages stained with tears of frustration. Taking a few minutes to tease Regulus for his lack of progress, he then swooped in to save the day without ever being asked, effortlessly putting together exactly what Bella and their family would want. Sirius dictated word-for-word what Regulus needed to write, well aware that their his hard work would go up in smoke if anyone discovered he had a hand in it.
Narcissa hums around the fork in her mouth. “Mmm, she’s immensely grateful for the help, though she’s considering a few slight changes, last I heard. If that’s okay with you, Regulus?”
“It’s her wedding,” the youngest Black responds with a half-shrug, “so whatever makes her happy.”
He would be happy with literally any choice she made, so long as he didn’t have to do anything else… evidently, Regulus is alone in this sentiment.
Sirius’s demeanor darkens. “What sort of changes?”
“Hmm, let me think…” Narcissa taps a finger against her chin. “The only thing I can recall is something about changing the color of the bridesmaids’ dresses to mauve.”
“MAUVE?!” They collectively flinch when Sirius’s chair screeches across the floor, the sound piercing in the quiet of the room. He remains seated, but it’s only a matter of time before he succumbs to the overwhelming need to pace across the floor. “Cissa, for the love of Merlin, please tell me you’re joking! There can’t be anything mauve!” His nose scrunches up at the thought. “It won’t go with the table decorations, her bouquet, the color palette of the venue, oh and those poor birds wearing the dresses… no offense, cousins, mauve just isn’t a good look on anyone.”
“Excuse you, Sirius Orion, but I look excellent in mauve! Besides, there were some other issues she found in the book, but Regulus is a novice, so there’s bound to be flaws. It’s not his fault, nor is anyone blaming him.”
Sirius’s open-palm smacks the table, rattling their cutlery. “That book was PERFECT, and she damn well knows it! Bella’s just looking for any excuse to complain. She’s exactly like my mother, never a good thing to say about anything, and yet she wonders why planning her wedding is such a headache, hm? Perhaps she should look inwards for the reason -”
Regulus sighs softly under his breath; is one peaceful meal with his family too much to ask for?
“Calm yourself! You did an excellent job, Sirius,” Andromeda intervenes with a pointed glare at both her cousin and sister. “There’s no mauve, Cissy’s just teasing you.”
Sirius repeatedly tries to deny his involvement, but his stuttered rebuttals aren’t convincing in the slightest.
“How’d you find out?” Narrowed eyes land on his younger sibling. “You told them, didn’t you? Ugh, bloody hell, did you tell Bella too, pipsqueak?” Pipsqueak?! Oh, that’s rich coming from him! Regulus is, at most, two centimeters shorter than his older brother. “Do you not understand the meaning of the word ‘secret’? Or does that go against your Reggie-Snaky-Code-of-Ethics?... why are you staring at me like that?”
Getting into an insult war with his brother is an unproductive use of his time. So is defending himself. If Regulus said he didn’t breathe a word of it to anyone, would Sirius trust his word? Maybe, maybe not. Doesn't matter, because what it comes down to is this - Regulus does not appreciate the accusation.
“Oh, sorry, I got distracted by that zit on your chin.”
Inhaling sharply, Sirius nearly upends the table in search of something shiny enough to check his reflection.
“That’s a low blow, cousin,” Andromeda chides, her rebuke laced with laughter. “I’m impressed.”
“BETRAYAL! MY SKIN IS FLAWLESS, LIKE ALWAYS, YOU JEALOUS… YOU JEALOUS NINNY!” Sirius screeches, chucking a dinner roll at Regulus, who catches it easily. “No, wait Reggie, that’s the last one, give it back.”
Regulus obliges the request, handing the roll back to his brother… after licking the whole thing thrice over. He even maintains a neutral expression when Sirius shoves it into his mouth, because really, he should have expected nothing less. Sirius would die a gory death by his own hand before letting anyone, especially Regulus, one-up him.
Narcissa shakes her head. “I forgot how ridiculous you two are when you’re together. But moving on, yes, I’d say that since Bella possesses a brain,” Sirius mutters ‘are you sure about that?’ under his breath, “she does know, considering we too figured it out on our own. However, you did a surprisingly superb job on the book, Sirius, so she’s not going to make a fuss. Mother will make the arrangements now that the selections are chosen from the options given, leaving Bella free to do whatever it is that Bella does on any given day.”
“I doubt anyone who actually knows you two believes it was Regulus, though.” Andromeda offers Regulus a sympathetic smile. “No offense meant, darling. You have many other redeeming qualities, of course, but this sort of thing belongs to your brother.”
Hah, please - anything Regulus can do, Sirius does better.
“Thank you.” He inclines his head towards Narcissa. “We look forward to your upcoming wedding where neither of us will be roped in against our will to do any of the planning.”
“Speak for yourself!” Sirius cries, gesturing wildly with his fork, nearly stabbing Regulus in the eye. “Merlin, sorry, Reggie, not trying to blind you, despite your previous BETRAYAL.” He adjusts his expression, gazing at Narcissa with the most innocent look he can muster on such short notice. “Personally, I would love to arrange a wedding at Malfoy Manor, assuming the lovely Lucy is still in the picture?”
The blonde rolls her eyes. “Don’t call him that. But yes, Lucius is still in the picture.”
“Does he… still want to have the wedding a month or two after your graduation?” Andromeda asks tentatively.
The hesitation behind her question catches their attention. Narcissa nods stiffly before taking a huge bite of potatoes to avoid a verbal response.
Sirius’s eyes narrow at the atypical display of bad-manners. “If he’s pressuring you, Cissa, and you aren’t ready -”
“Spare me your unnecessary protective spiel, cousin,” she scoffs after swallowing her food. “It doesn’t matter what I want, you and I both know it. It is the duty of a Pureblood woman to marry a suitable spouse and produce an heir, ideally multiple.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder. “I will do my duty to our family, as expected of me. You should consider doing the same.”
“I don’t mean to pry, but I thought you wished to be Lucius’s wife and raise children together with him?” Regulus’s voice is quiet, uncombative; he’s sincerely interested in hearing the reason for her change in attitude. But then his guilt wins out. “I’m so sorry, it’s none of my business, you absolutely do not need to explain yourself to me of all people.”
“Blimey, Regulus, no one here is going to bite your head off for asking a question!” Sirius glares at the older girls. “Right, cousins?”
“For once, we are in agreement.” Straightening her spine, Narcissa meets each of their gazes to demonstrate her sincerity. “And to answer your question, Regulus, I do, I do want to be a mother, and a wife, and build a home, with Lucius specifically. But must I begin trying to have children right after graduation?”
“Just to confirm… you want to be a childless socialite for the next decade?” Sirius holds his hands up placatingly. “I mean, no judgment, Cissa, if that’s your thing.” (His tone definitely sounds like he’s judging a bit.)
She shakes her head. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
“So, what exactly did you mean?” Andromeda prods when Narcissa doesn’t continue.
It takes her another minute to answer, partially because Pipsy pops back into the room to clean the table of their dinner plates. Regulus tells himself he’ll only eat a small amount for dessert, but when he sees there’s pumpkin pie, apple pie, and vanilla ice cream, he forgives his overindulgence in advance.
“Is it… is it so wrong to want a career?” Narcissa whispers once Pipsy leaves. “What am I to do all day while Lucius is at the Ministry before our children are born? What about when they leave for school? When they become adults, have children of their own?” Each sentence is spoken louder and louder, until she’s nearly shouting by the end of it. “Salazar, do you know what our parents do while we’re at Hogwarts? They waste the day away with gossip, nitpicking, complaining, having lunch with other jobless rich people they hate, day after day, the same crap… what an utterly terrible way to live, I mean, can you imagine?!!”
The impassioned monologue leave them speechless, no one quite sure how to react. Narcissa fidgets in her seat, looking immensely uncomfortable, like she admitted to engaging in something horribly depraved. Regulus frowns in sympathy; it's obvious this has been weighing on her for ages.
Suddenly, Sirius throws his head back, laughing uproariously. “Wait, wait, wait, sorry… you… you want to work for a living?” Someone, probably Andromeda this time, kicks him under the table. “Bloody hell, woman, you have pointy feet - ow, STOP!... Merlin, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting a career, even if you are rich, okay?! It was just unexpected… blimey, are you two defensive today or what?!”
“It’s…” Narcissa pauses, considering her next words carefully. “It’s disconcerting to take these classes with Madam Pomfrey, something I enjoy immensely, and have her ask us what Healing programs we’re considering applying to after graduation. Everyone else has multiple answers, but -”
“You can’t say, ‘Sorry, I’m too rich to work’,” Andromeda finishes understandingly, and her sister nods.
“Especially since she may then wonder why you’re wasting her time,” Sirius tactlessly adds.
“Expanding your knowledge is never a waste of time, brother, and surely someone who dedicated their life to working in an institution of education would agree.”
“Spoken like an eagle in snake’s clothing.” Regulus’s heart stutters at the jibe, until he angrily reminds himself Sirius has no idea what the Sorting Hat said to him, he’s only taking the mickey. “Have you told Lucy of your ambitions?”
Narcissa’s lips purse at the nickname given to her future husband, but she benevolently lets it slide. “He doesn’t understand my reasoning for wanting a career, but he’s open to it. Besides, when one takes into consideration the kind of trouble magical children tend to get into, honestly, all parents should be required to complete basic Healer training.”
“An excellent point, and I am gratified to hear you have his support. However, at the end of the day, his opinion is inconsequential.” Sirius leans forward, eyes intently locked on Narcissa’s own. “It’s not Aunt Druella’s life, not Uncle Cygnus, not your husband’s, not anyone else - it’s yours. You’re willing to marry a nice Pureblood spouse and raise lovely Pureblood heirs, the two biggest things they’ve touted all our lives, so why should they have a say on what else you do? Instead of sitting around yapping about everything that’s wrong in the world, maybe all these rich louts should get off their arses, join the workforce, and contribute something useful to the magical community.”
“Hate to say it, Cissa, but cousin Sirius has made some valid points… for once in his life.”
“Oi!”
“For what it’s worth,” Regulus adds softly, gazing earnestly at the older girl across the table. “I concur. I think you would make a lovely Healer, and St. Mungo's would be privileged to have someone with your talent in their ranks.”
“Thank you all,” she smiles tentatively, tucking a lock of silky blonde hair behind her ear. “I will take your counsel under advisement.”
Leaning his chair back on two legs, Sirius makes a show of rolling his eyes. “Good Godric, I forgot how uppity the Blacks could be.”
Regulus blinks innocently when his brother glares at him, having nearly fallen out of his seat when someone, certainly not Regulus, shoved his chair leg.
“Speaking of Pureblood heirs,” Andromeda chirps, eyes narrowed into slits as she looks at the lone Gryffindor; Sirius stares back, unfazed by such intimidation tactics. “The rumor mill says someone here is intimately well known among the female population.”
“Regulus!” Sirius raises a hand to cover his mouth. “What would Mother say?”
“That you’re a terrible influence, and she should have sent us both to Durmstrang,” Regulus impassively retorts without looking up from his crucial endeavor - scooping a generous serving of ice cream into his bowl.
Sirius cackles loudly at that, leading Regulus to crack a smile against his will.
But Andromeda’s stern expression doesn’t falter. “Sirius. I’m being…” she quickly corrects her sentence, refusing to open herself up to the long-standing ‘Sirius/serious’ joke. “Genuine. The rumors regarding your frequent entanglements are startling. Are you being safe, cousin?”
She’s not going… there, is she? Why would she do that? This is not… this is not proper dinner conversation! Or proper conversation, ever.
Equally aghast by her line of questioning, Sirius’s mouth drops open, thankfully free of food. “Andie, are you… are you trying to give me the talk?! Let me spare you the time, and myself the additional nightmares. Mother and Father have already beat you to it, so you can -”
It’s a misunderstanding, it must be. She’s referring to something else, some other sort of talk.
“Evidently, you need to hear it again!” Narcissa hisses, cutting him off. “Since you were TWELVE, Sirius, we’ve heard endless whispers of your sordid love life, sneaking into the girls’ dorms, spending the night, looking ruffled when you return to your own room. How long before one girl ends up with a leftover gift?”
Sweet Merlin have mercy, they’re both going there.
Regulus abandons his food, along with a lifetime of etiquette lessons. Propping his elbows on the table, he hides half his face in his hands, horror-struck by the direction their conversation has taken. If he were a better brother, he’d speak up to rescue Sirius from this humiliating intervention, but Regulus isn’t a better brother, and well… maybe Sirius needs to hear it. Because he does get where they’re coming from, having heard the same gossip as his cousins.
Does he believe the rumors about Sirius being a tart, a man-whore, a trollop, a skirt-chaser, or whatever other derogatory term their peers assign to him?
Absolutely not.
But so many persistent rumors cannot be wholly without merit, either.
Sirius’s nostrils flare, his cheeks flushing crimson. “I would like to think you two are wise enough to know how ignorant and misinformed the rumor mill of Hogwarts can be!” He looks across the table at Narcissa. “I mean, I heard you were leaving Lucius to run off with a bloke you met from Durmstrang over the summer.”
“Fair point,” Regulus bravely squeaks out in support, despite having yet to hear that particular rumor. Honestly, he wouldn’t put it past Sirius to have fabricated it on the spot.
“Sirius, please, we only mean to ensure you’re not producing illegitimate heirs,” Andromeda says placatingly. “Not only to spare yourself the shame of having a child out of wedlock, but to spare that child a lifetime of ridicule.”
“Well, I assure you, cousin!” Sirius spits the word like the foulest of insults, “you need not worry about me. Witches, you see, don’t capture my fancy. Never have, never will.”
They all freeze at the confession, including Sirius himself.
From Regulus’s vantage point, the shocking part isn’t that Sirius prefers wizards to witches; it’s that he actually admitted his preference to someone in their family, Regulus included. As close as they were growing up, there’s no feasible way he could have missed the way his brother’s eyes lingered admiringly on the male Quidditch players in magazines, while always skipping over the females who played the sport (even the ones who were objectively pretty). Regulus will never forget the time they were at a match, and a player for Ireland accidentally ripped an opposing Seeker’s robes open while trying to slow him down. Thanks to the projection spell that should have been displaying the game, an up-close shot of the Seeker’s bare, sculpted torso was broadcasted to the entire stadium; Sirius, who’d been returning to his seat after using the loo, literally squeaked when he caught sight of the screen and would have gone tumbling over the barrier of the Top Box if it weren’t for Uncle Gio’s quick reflexes. And then when Uncle Alphard gifted him a signed poster of the 1972 Puddlemere United team, Sirius hung it on his ceiling, directly above his bed. Blimey, and there's the way he becomes uncharacteristically socially inept whilst in the same vicinity as the gorgeous shopkeeper at Grandmother’s favorite French bookstore, blushing scarlet and stumbling over his words so extensively, the man once discreetly slipped him a self-help book about fixing speech impediments (he was really nice about it, didn't mean it rudely, said he had a stutter growing up too... but that just made it ten times more hilarious to Regulus, who now whenever they're at Black Manor, always asks if they can visit that shop).
And if the youngest Black hadn’t picked up his brother’s preference before Hogwarts, he’d have put it together after witnessing Sirius fawn over the young Defense Against the Dark Arts professor last year, following the man around like one of his disciples, boasting for days on end… loudly… whenever the professor praised him (it’s not an exaggeration to say the secondhand embarrassment nearly killed Regulus either). And if that hadn’t clued Regulus in, catching Sirius’s hopeless, longing looks at Lupin across the table in the Great Hall surely would have.
Gray eyes skirt anxiously around the room. Sirius looks like he’s seconds away from either sprinting out the door or bursting into tears… or like he’s legitimately debating the pros and cons of Obliviating them. Not a fan of any of those options, Regulus hastily gathers whatever slivers of courage he possesses.
You can do this, he tells himself.
You must do this, he corrects, both for himself and for his brother.
“Oh my, do you think Mother and Father are too old to give it another go?” Regulus trills, ignoring the confused gazes turning towards him. “Maybe they’ll end up with a son who does prefer the company of witches.”
The atmosphere was already uneasy; now, the room is stifling, the stillness heavy, a literal weight bearing down on him. Regulus mentally reviews the process of booking a portkey out of the country tonight… Siberia is nice this time of year, if he remembers correctly. And circling back to the topic of shame and a lifetime of ridicule, once he’s disowned, he’ll want to avoid the areas with a higher density of wizard population -
Smack!
Narcissa’s open palm hits the table, the others jolting at the unexpected noise.
“YES!” The blonde holds an expectant hand out to her sister, wiggling her fingers in the older girl’s face. “Called that years ago, Andie, didn’t I? Time to pay up, that’s 10 galleons each if you recall.”
Uhh… that’s not the reaction Regulus anticipated; he expected derisive looks, ridicule, threats of telling their parents, disbelief, accusations of falsehood.
Not… gambling?
“YOU BET ON US?!” the lone Gryffindor screeches incredulously, a hand placed over his heart.
She waves his concerns away, her gleeful expression focused solely on her sister, who reluctantly starts counting out the owed amount. “Of course, but don’t sound so offended, it’s all in good fun.”
“You only say that when you win,” the dark-haired girl grumbles, passing over ten of the twenty galleons.
Sirius’s eyes shift calculatingly between the two girls. “But how did you know?... is Bella in on these bets?”
Merlin, Regulus hopes she isn’t, what a nightmare it would be if she had such substantial blackmail material on them!
While diligently counting out the rest of the money, Andromeda scoffs, “Don’t be daft, Bella is too dull for such pastimes.” It’s enough to soothe some of their worries.
“But how did you know?” Sirius repeats testily.
Narcissa waves a hand in his direction. “You were the easy one to figure out, Sirius. Remember that Ministry luncheon we went to a few years back?”
“Which one?” he deadpans; they’ve attended what feels like hundreds of Ministry luncheons for one reason or another, the elders in their family welcoming any excuse to display their immense wealth and status to others in the Wizarding World. Even during the years when Regulus was constantly ill, their parents insisted he make an appearance at every event they attended, stuffing him up with potion after potion, unwilling to face questions regarding his absence - Merlin forbid anyone learned the truth about their sickly child.
“The one over the Christmas holidays during Regulus’s first year,” she clarifies. “Lockhart was going on another rant about how good-looking he was -”
“Is he still a prat?” Sirius interjects curiously. “Never see much of him anymore, I think he avoids me. Doesn’t want to be reminded of what real beauty is.”
“Of course, cousin, but don’t interrupt, it’s rude,” Narcissa admonishes, her words and the accompanying glare lacking heat. “Ironically, on that note… you cut him off mid-sentence, not to say you were superior as we all expected, but to point out how Lucius’s hair shined more than Lockhart’s ever would.”
Regulus had caught Lucius’s stunned expression before his haughty mask fell back into place. Anyone who knew the two heirs were taken aback - Sirius’s crusade of antagonism towards children their parents approved of them spending time with was well underway by that point. Lucius Malfoy may not be one of Sirius’s favorite people, nor is the Black heir among Lucius’s ‘associates’, but their relationship became fairly civil after that day, at least in comparison to how Sirius treats the other Pureblood children in their circle.
Andromeda’s bright laugh shakes Regulus out of his reverie. “I remember that lunch! The highlight for me was the five-minute monologue about Frank Longbottom’s well… everything.”
“Frank Longbottom is a national treasure, and no one with sense could argue otherwise!” the Gryffindor declares boastfully. “I know Mother would have a hippogriff over it, but I’d marry that dashing bloke in a heartbeat.”
“You’d marry anyone your parents would have a hippogriff over, no other reason needed,” Narcissa mumbles into her goblet, to which Sirius cheerfully raises his own in a mock toast.
The words are out of Regulus’s mouth before he can stop them. “So, how long until we both get disowned, do you reckon?”
Immediately, the relaxed atmosphere disappears. Sinking low into his seat, Regulus mentally berates himself for single-handedly ruining the most non-antagonistic family dinner Sirius has ever taken part in.
Can’t ever let anything good happen, can you? a snide voice whispers in the back of his mind. And you wonder why you’re not popular like Sirius… it’s probably because you’re absolutely dreadful to be around!
Andromeda and Narcissa share a long look.
“Regulus, they can’t disown both of you,” Andromeda whispers gently, “not when you’re the only two males eligible to continue the line. It may not be… ideal to the adults, but there are reputable ways two wizards can produce legitimate children. The traditional way isn’t the only way, and when faced with extinction, I’m sure they’ll be willing to make compromises.”
Narcissa grimaces. “It’s also not uncommon for those in arranged marriages to have lovers on the side. I know that’s not what you want to hear, Regulus, but it’s better than the alternative.”
“And if the worst did come to pass, cousin, though I highly doubt it ever would… but if it did, you would not be alone. You will always be family to me, nothing in this world could ever change that -”
“To us,” Narcissa interrupts firmly.
Regulus shakes his head. “I appreciate your kind words, but I could not let you do such a thing. We know the rules… once a family member is stricken from the tapestry, it is like they never existed in the first place. If you’re caught associating with them, caught associating with me, you would be blasted off, too. I could not bear the thought of you suffering unduly because of me.”
Why... why did he speak up? Everything would have been fine if he had kept his mouth shut, continued to pretend, continued to pretend that everything was normal, that he was normal, but now they know, three people know, and Regulus could lose… he could lose everything, all because he had to say something -
“NO.” The single word cuts through the ringing in Regulus’s head. “They can’t… I won’t let… they won’t…” Sirius hisses through his teeth; he’s not the most articulate member of their family, hard to be given the ‘competition’, but this amount of ineloquence is unusual. “If they DARE disown you, Regulus, the better son… no, don’t look at me like that, we all know it’s true… if they think they can kick you out for something you can’t control, something that I also am, then they can find themselves a new heir, because it sure as shit won’t be me!”
“Be careful, Sirius,” Andromeda warns sternly. “They could always make Regulus the heir if they were so inclined, and proceed to demand he marry a witch of their choosing. Then, what would you do?”
For a short period of time, Regulus dreamt of being the son who’d one day head their family. He believed he should be the heir, swore he deserved the position more than his brother. But deep down, Regulus knew he didn’t want the responsibility, the pressure, didn’t want to be thrust into the limelight, both within their family and outside of it, knew his extroverted, attention-loving brother was better suited for the position.
Sirius laughs scathingly. “HA! Please, Andie, it’ll be over my dead and decomposed body that my little brother marries a witch when his preference is for wizards and wizards only. They can disown me if they so please, but it won’t matter, they still won’t get what they want. Regulus won’t be marrying a bird, and that’s all there is to it.”
Reluctantly putting his fork down, Regulus delays the coveted last-bite of his desert, his vivid imagination causing his stomach to roll.
“One, ew, thank you for that grotesque imagery while I’m trying to eat, and two, if you leave the family, then I’ll have no choice but to marry a witch.” He pretends like he isn’t comforted by his brother’s solidarity. Sirius has been looking for an excuse to abandon his family duty for years already, this is just another potential way out. “Otherwise, our line would die out.”
He expects his brother to immediately retort with something along the lines of, ‘maybe it should.’ But Sirius merely raises a perfectly arched eyebrow. “You’re marrying a wizard, and the two of you will have all the babies you desire because magic is awesome, the end. I will not entertain any additional discussion about it.”
“Well, it’s not like you’re the first wizard in the family to prefer the company of other wizards,” Narcissa remarks, her casual tone juxtaposed by the way her eyes watch Sirius like a hawk. “And they’re still on the tapestry.”
Sirius chokes on the food he was trying to swallow, and with a sigh, Regulus slides his water goblet towards his brother, who downs it in one gulp. “Who pray tell are you referring to, Cissa? That’s news to me.”
It’s not something openly discussed within their family, but it’s unfathomable to think Sirius is oblivious to who she’s referring to… he’s playing dumb, right?
“Are you serious?!” the blonde balks, cringing when she realizes her mistake.
With an obnoxious wink, he purrs, “Haven’t you realized by now? I’m always Sirius, darling.” They groan simultaneously, which only makes Sirius’s smirk grow wider. “But that is correct, I have no idea who you’re speaking about.”
Right, so he’s not playing dumb. That’s rather, uh… concerning.
Narcissa slides three galleons back to her sister with a grumbled, “damnit.”
“You two are shameless!” Sirius cries, and while Regulus wholeheartedly agrees with this assessment, he decides it’s best to keep this opinion to himself.
“Again, it’s all in good fun.” Sirius looks like he’s about to continue complaining, but Andromeda doesn’t give him the chance. “Sirius. Please think for a moment - does childless Uncle Alphard living with his male caretaker for decades not strike you as the least bit odd?”
“Well…” Absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the table, Sirius cocks his head to the side, thinking it over. “Not really. I just assumed he needed some extra help after years of being a dueling champion. Plus, they’re really close friends, and like, who wouldn’t want to live with their best mate, ya know?”
“Close friends,” the blonde mocks, throwing her crumpled up napkin at him. “He has a house elf, for Merlin’s sake! We call his caretaker ‘uncle’… fine, it’s not discussed outright, but how could you not know Uncle Alphard and Uncle Gio were intimately involved? He’s in our family portraits, they attend every function together… Sirius, they have matching rings!”
Sirius’s nose wrinkles. “I prefer not to think about who any of you lot are, or are not, intimate with.”
“It’s because he’s had a secret crush on Uncle Gio since forever,” Regulus whispers conspiringly, snickering when his brother squawks indignantly. Sirius’s denials are useless - his blush tells them everything they need to know.
Andromeda clears her throat. “Going back to the original topic of intimacy, Sirius, yes, you were right that the rumor mill is mostly filled with codswallop. But why do you feature in it so prominently in such a… risque way?”
Covering his entire face with his hands, Sirius groans, a dramatic overreaction that presents Regulus with a fantastic opportunity. Sliding his fork under the giant slice of pumpkin pie on his brother’s plate, he's about to relocate his prize onto his own plate, when his wrist becomes encased in a viselike grip.
Gray eyes meet gray eyes; Regulus grins sheepishly, inclining his head towards the empty tin that previously held the pumpkin pie, before frowning down at his own pie-less plate. Sure, he could grab another slice of apple pie, but why would he do that when there’s pumpkin?
“I don’t like apple pie, you know this, Regulus.” In spite of this well known fact, Sirius divides his piece of pumpkin pie into two, pausing midway through the task to shake a finger in the Slytherin’s face. “Don't come whining to me when your stomach hurts from overeating.” He passes the larger of the slices to Regulus, who promptly digs in. "Slow down, Reg, you don’t need to eat so fast... no one’s going to take it from you!”
“‘M hungry, kay?”
"... is this because I said you were too skinny?"
Maybe a smidgeon...
"No."
"Regulus, are you sure?"
“‘M hungry, kay?” Regulus repeats.
It's not enough to deter his brother. "If you're trying to gain weight, you obviously want to gain muscle, right? James told me he ate a lot of chicken over the summer," Regulus vows to never eat chicken again, "and he put on a shit ton of muscle -"
“Anyways!” Narcissa interjects. “You were telling us why everyone thinks you’re a slag?”
Sirius huffs. “Okay, that’s much ruder than what people call me, but whatever. I knew this would come back to haunt me one day. My dearest Black-hearted comrades, our tale begins when I was a wee second-year, and a group of girls tried to sneak into our dorm to revenge prank me and my mates. They didn’t get very far, because we ward the shit out of our room against interlopers and trespassers,” he ignores the way they all scoff at this description, “but they were rightfully impressed by the minor tweaks I made to the room.”
“Is that allowed?” Andromeda inquires skeptically. “The changes to the room, not the warding. Everyone with sense does that.”
Shrugging, Sirius goes on to explain how ever since he was a first-year, he’s been making ‘minor improvements’ to his dorm, and after conducting some extensive research, began major renovations halfway through his second year; he added extension charms to a single armoire, so all four boys could share one, freeing up floor space. He transfigured one of the spare armoires into a towering bookcase large enough to store their trunks on the upper shelves, complete with a rolling ladder; with a series of complex spells, the bookcase became a part of the wall, acting as the center point of the room’s arrangement. The remaining two armoires were transfigured into ‘L’ shaped couches and moved in front of the bookcase, creating a ‘lounging area’. All portraits were removed, replaced with murals painted by Pettigrew and Potter. He also added fairy lights (a Muggle invention he bewitched to glow without something called ‘elektricity’) to give the room an enchanting feel after the sun went down. Their desks were pushed to one side of the room, creating a little ‘homework space’, and he ordered a huge cork board for them to pin reminders on, along with pictures and anything else that caught their fancy.
It’s so fucking excessive.
It’s exactly the type of thing Sirius would do.
“Oh, don’t look like you’re about to lecture me, Cissa,” Sirius snaps when they all merely blink after his explanation. “I asked permission first.”
“Your Head of House allowed you to do all that?” Regulus asks dubiously, rubbing a hand over his satiated stomach. He could go for a nap right about now...
“‘Allow’ is a very specific word, you see… I think ‘tolerate’ would suffice. But since Hogwarts herself said it was fine, then Minnie had no room to complain.”
That launches them into a highly contentious argument where Narcissa and Andromeda firmly believe Sirius is leading them on, making up wild conspiracy theories, per usual. Sirius, meanwhile, hotly counters that Hogwarts is sentient, and she’s very willing to help students out, they need only ask. Regulus opts not to participate in the debate, having lost multiple times in a similar conversation with his friend, Pandora. At this point, he thinks there might actually be some truth to the claim… which leads him into a downward spiral of questions; did the Four Founders intend to make Hogwarts sentient? Or was it an accidental side effect of the magic they used to build the foundation of the school? Did it happen immediately or over the centuries?
Regulus loathes how his questions will likely remain forever unanswered… instances like these drive him barmy, is it such a crime to know?
“When we came back in third year, our room was rectangular!” Sirius shouts, his nonsensical comment enough to temporarily halt their complaints. “Gryffindor Tower is in a circular tower, yet our room randomly became a rectangle, the only one, mind you, of the many I’ve seen, that is not round. On top of that, right before the end of second year, I had complained to James that I wished our room wasn’t circular because corners meant I could section off areas more easily… then we can back after the summer, and boom, it’s a rectangle! So, if you’re so bloody smart, Narcissa, explain how that’s possible?!” He pivots to face Regulus, holding a hand up. “And yes, before you say it, I asked Lila down in the kitchens if she had done it, but she looked at me like I was batty and said house elves don’t change the shape of dorm rooms.”
“You are batty, clearly she knew what she was going on about,” Narcissa grumbles under her breath.
Taking the higher road, Andromeda says, “Alright, fine. Please continue, cousin.”
Apparently, Godric Gryffindor didn’t trust boys to visit the girls, enchanting the staircase leading to their dorms so it turned into a slide whenever a male stepped foot on it (something that definitely doesn’t happen in Slytherin, for the record). To combat this, Sirius hopped onto his broom and flew the short distance to the window of the second-year girls’ dorm, where he then spent hours over multiple days discussing what changes they wanted to make to their room. When he finished upgrading their room, news spread of his abilities, and soon other girls in Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw were requesting Sirius’s expert assistance.
These ‘services’ required him to spend a significant amount of time sequestered in the girls’ dormitory, sending the rumor mill into a frenzy. A few of his ‘clients’ asked if they could reveal what he was really doing to those who weren’t in the know yet, but before Sirius could make a decision, a Ravenclaw boy accosted him in the hallways, shouting at him to stop spending so much time in his girlfriend’s room… needless to say, salacious tales of Sirius Black’s ‘womanizing ways’ quickly spread through the school like wildfire.
The rumors remained uncorrected for several reasons; one, they’d horrify his parents, a huge plus in Sirius’s book; two, no one would ever question his sexuality if they thought he was spending copious amounts of time in the girls’ dorm; and three, his popularity soared.
“But… the Gryffindor girls know the truth about what you’re really doing, right?” Regulus mutters when Sirius finally finishes - he swears he's overheard his brother’s own housemates gossiping about his scandalous exploits!
Sirius snorts. “One would think, huh? I don’t know if they’re just playing along, but even my mates started believing some of the rumors after I jokingly told them I don’t kiss and tell.” Certainly not all of his mates, though... like Lupin, for example. Unless he thinks Sirius swings both ways? His brother suddenly preens like one of the prized peacocks at Malfoy Manor. “Clearly, I am a phenomenal actor. Perhaps I’ll audition for a role in one of those plays that the traveling magical theater company puts on. You remember the ones, right? Mother never let us go, said they were for the plebs.”
Narcissa turns to Andromeda with a pout. “Did you hear that, sister? Our cousin called us plebs.”
Sirius’s reaction is comical, his skin almost green with envy at another ‘injustice’ he endured, one that even other Blacks weren’t subjected to… Regulus is grateful when there’s a tentative knock on the door, preventing an infamous meltdown.
Opening the door, he’s met with a mewling Wrath, held up by Evan as a silent explanation, the kitten vocalizing her displeasure at having her dinner delayed. Pushing the billowy sleeve of his robes up to reveal his watch, Regulus’s mouth drops open when he sees it’s nearly midnight.
“Love, we’re so sorry to force you out of your own rooms for hours,” Andromeda apologizes, looking genuinely distressed when Regulus informs her of how late it’s gotten.
Evan shrugs, unbothered, or at least well-mannered enough not to show it. “Not a problem at all, but Wrath might disagree. She’s very diligent about the time we all go to bed. And her highness can’t sleep on an empty stomach.”
Narcissa nods, pleased to hear someone ensures they go to bed on time (Regulus might go to bed at a decent hour, but asleep? Yeah, right). “Wrath makes for a wise companion.” She presses a light kiss to Regulus’s cheek as goodbye, which is a sweet gesture… until she leans forward to whisper he better carve out some time for them tomorrow, because they will be hearing the full tale of his ‘deadly summer exploits’. Narcissa turns to Sirius without waiting for a response, his terrified gulp acceptance enough. “Come, Sirius, I will escort you back to your rooms, as it’s long past curfew.”
“That’s very kind of you, but there’s no need, Cissa,” Sirius says dismissively, locked into a fierce staring contest with Wrath. “I know the way.”
“Um, Reg, will you feed Wrath, please?” Evan asks quietly. "I need to shower.”
Fuck, a shower sounds nice right about now. Regulus wishes he could flee follow his friend to avoid this very uncomfortable impending conversation.
“Nonsense, Sirius,” Andromeda responds firmly. “It’s not worth the risk of a detention. I’m sure you’ll find something more exciting to do over the weekend that will earn you one, but as prefects, you’ll be safe with us tonight.”
Eyes watering from the lack of blinking, Sirius refuses to give in to either Wrath or their cousins. “It’s so far to Gryffindor, cousin, I would feel guilty if either of you made the long trek there and back on my account.”
A momentary reprieve from their hounding comes when Wrath, who is notoriously not a fan of strangers, clambers onto Sirius’s outstretched hand (resulting in the staring contest ending in a draw). The Gryffindor lifts her up in front of his face, and Regulus waits for the inevitable, ‘Such a cute little kitten,’ or ‘Aren’t you adorable?’ remark that’s going to end with the prideful feline raking her claws across his cheek.
However, nothing comes besides a, “Good evening, Lady Wrath.”
As a test, the cat hisses aggressively, her body nearly doubling in size, fur standing on end.
“Oi!” Sirius hurriedly moves his face away. “Look how utterly terrifying you are! I bet you’re the best guard cat Hogwarts has ever seen, huh?”
And well… that just seals her affection for him, doesn’t it?
It also gives Regulus an idea.
“I guess you’ll have to spend the night.” Spooning Wrath’s wet food into her bowl, Regulus does his best to avoid looking over at his cousins. “She won’t take too kindly to you leaving now. If you do, then you’ll learn exactly how she earned her fitting name.”
“It’s a crime to disappoint the ladies," Sirius deposits the kitten in front of her food bowl, "that’s what I always say.”
Andromeda places both hands on her hip, her patience thinning. “Sirius Orion Black, what is the matter with you?!”
Sirius finally lifts his head to meet Andromeda’s eyes. “You could write to my mother for an answer on that. I’m confident she’ll be able to provide the information you seek, though it may take several owls to deliver the staggering amount of parchment she’ll fill.”
How do you respond to a self-deprecating statement like that… especially when it has some truth to it?
Apparently, you don’t, so Narcissa swivels on her heel, pinning Regulus with a look that has him shifting from foot to foot.
“I said he could stay here for a few days, his dormmates are being unbearable,” he chokes out, shoulders hunching when he hears his brother’s annoyed sigh. “Besides, it’s the weekend, so I didn’t think it would be a problem, though honestly, the rules shouldn’t prevent family from spending time together at school, regardless of house affiliation, as long as their coursework isn’t being hindered, and personally, I’ve always believed that to be an unreasonable stipulation -”
“Okay,” Andromeda says, interrupting Regulus’s anxious ramble.
Glancing away from watching Wrath inhale her food, Sirius’s eyes widen. “Okay? That’s… that’s it?”
Both sisters shrug in unison, and the youngest Black resentfully wonders why no one says they’re twins. Fraternal, sure, but they’re loads more alike than Regulus and Sirius.
“I happen to agree with Regulus’s opinion,” Narcissa responds, heading towards the door. “School houses shouldn’t separate family members in times of need, or during the weekend when things are more relaxed. As long as all impacted parties are alright with the temporary change, and everyone behaves appropriately.” She looks pointedly at Sirius, but the Gryffindor is too busy poking around Wrath’s cat tower to notice.
“Just be sure to go to bed at a reasonable hour, we all know how dreadful Sirius gets without his beauty sleep,” Andromeda says with a wink. “Night boys.”
Later, while they’re brushing their teeth, Sirius softly asks, “Do you regularly have dinner parties and stuff?”
After spitting his toothpaste into the sink, once his brother finally moved his fat arse out of the way, Regulus shakes his head. “No, that was the first time we’ve done anything of the sort.”
“Spend a lot of time with Cissa and Andie?” Sirius hip checks the younger teen out of the way, reclaiming the space in front of the sink. “I don’t think I’ve seen you lot sitting together all that often in the Great Hall.”
With a half-shrug, the younger explains, “Sometimes, we’ll hang out in the Common Room, and Narcissa knocks on our door once or twice a week to check on the three of us… though she warned me on the train to expect her more frequently this year, because she requires ‘quality bonding time with her Goddaughter, Wrath’. But they’re busy with their own friends and their studies… that doesn’t leave a lot of time left over.”
Sirius stares at his reflection with a small frown. “Reg… I… I just wanted to say… I wish you hadn’t… ugh, Merlin, this is awkward….” Taking a deep breath, he lets all of it out in one big whoosh. “Okay, so, what I wanted to say is that I wish you hadn’t pretended to be like me during dinner. I appreciate the sentiment, of course, but I don’t like you lying to take the attention off me, especially about something so significant.”
Lying?! He thinks Regulus was lying about… what? Being gay?!
“Excuse me?!” the Slytherin gasps, unable to believe what his brother is insinuating.
“Brother, we both know you aren’t gay.”
Temporarily rendered speechless by the audacity of such a statement, Regulus gapes at the older teen. Because what. the. fuck?!
“You… you’re teasing, right? You can’t possibly believe I would tell our cousins… cousins who hail from the same family as ours, a family that STRONGLY opposes any scenario that isn’t a Pureblood-wizard marrying a Pureblood-witch, and bringing pure spawn into the world… you can’t genuinely believe I’d LIE about my,” his voice drops to barely above a whisper, “sexuality, just to take the attention off you? How would that be sensible?!”
Prior to today, Regulus had never revealed his preference for wizards to anyone. Nor did he have plans to divulge it in the near future… or ever, really. Evan, Barty, and Pandora may figure it out on their own one day, but he trusts they’d keep it to themselves. Because what did it matter? Just like Narcissa, it was Regulus’s duty to his family to marry someone of the opposite sex, who possesses an impeccable pedigree similar to his own, and then produce offspring to carry on the Black name and increase the number of Purebloods in the magical community. Such things like feelings and desires were irrelevant.
Reaching for the vial of face cleansing potion, Sirius looks wholly unaffected by the younger’s outrage. “I mean, Regulus, come on! It’s just me, I won’t judge. It’s not like you have a boyfriend, right?”
“No, but so what?!” Regulus cries indignantly. “That doesn’t mean I don’t like -”
Massaging the cleanser into his skin, Sirius asks, “You’ve had one in the past?”
“No!” Sure, the idea of having a boyfriend sounds nice, but what would Mother and Father say when they found out? Better not to date at all, than be forced to deal with that. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t like… have you had a boyfriend?”
Sirius holds up a finger, the universal sign for ‘please wait as I drag this conversation out unnecessarily, because I’m a dramatic git who lives for attention’, and then starts meticulously washing the cleanser off.
“Nah, but -” Another pause, this time while he pats his skin dry… because evidently, doing more than one thing at a time is too difficult for Sirius’s puny brain to handle. “Snogged James in third-year, after we saw two blokes kiss while doing their holiday shopping together and wondered what it would be like.”
A strange feeling settles in the pit of Regulus’s stomach… he probably should have skipped that second slice of pumpkin pie like his brother warned. Ugh, overeating is the worst.
The impeccable manners drilled into Regulus since childhood prevent him from commenting on how shifty Sirius suddenly looks; maybe he thinks his ‘straight’ brother will flip out about the news that he snogged Potter (ew)... or, maybe the uneasiness is due to guilt, because he’s a dirty rotten liar who for some reason, doesn’t want to admit to his exploits with Lupin? But there’s nothing in the world Sirius loves more than the sound of his own voice. Regulus will wait patiently for the right moment to pounce, when he’s certain his brother will crack wide open and spill all the juicy details… it’s not like he’s going to do anything with the information, Regulus just likes knowing things. And hates when things are kept from him.
A quiet cough jerks Regulus out of his thoughts. Racking his mind for something to say, he struggles to remember what they were even talking about before he got distracted. Sirius watches him with a small, indulgent smile, which isn’t bloody helpful either… ugh, could he stop? How could he forget that Regulus hates being stared at?!
(The ‘polite cough’ was a nonverbal cue they developed years ago, after a humiliating incident where Regulus unintentionally offended several Pureblood witches with his penchant for silence. They shrieked and shrieked, calling him, Regulus Arcturus Black, impolite and ill-mannered, among other rude things he cannot recall. The incident was so traumatic, Sirius went out of his way for months to ‘help’ him practice his socializing skills… meaning the trauma continued, as Regulus was coerced into performing countless theatrical skits with his brother. When it became evident that the youngest Black was destined to be socially inept for the remainder of his years, Sirius devised several wordless signals to aid him, the most important being the ‘polite cough’, indicating a verbal response was required from him.)
“Isn’t that incest, though, since he’s your ‘brother’?” the Slytherin grunts.
Sirius’s disgusted expression is most satisfying. “Merlin, maybe I really do belong in the family! Can you imagine Mother’s face if I told her I planned to marry a ‘Potter’ because he’s a relative?” Eyes accidentally meeting in the mirror, the brothers suddenly break into a fit of giggles. When their mirth subsides, Sirius playfully tugs on a lock of Regulus’s hair. “So, come on little brother, who’s caught your eye around school? Anyone tickle your fancy?”
“Never say that expression again, it’s ghastly,” Regulus grimaces.
“What’s your type? Nerds? Jocks? The poor? When did you know?”
Gouging his own eyes out with a spoon, pitching himself off the Astronomy Tower… all things Regulus would willingly do if it meant freedom from this interrogation.
From a young age, Regulus knew he held no interest in girls, at least not in the way he was ‘supposed to’. Truthfully, until Hogwarts, he hadn’t been all that curious about boys either, but even as a child, Regulus possessed enough self-awareness to recognize they caught his attention more so than the opposite sex. The moment he came to accept his sexuality for what it was, that he was both attracted to and romantically interested in wizards (and only wizards), had come at a point in time where everything in his life was shifting.
Anxious over his upcoming sorting, Regulus frantically scanned the Gryffindor table, searching for his brother. The benches were jam-packed with bodies, the students pressed tightly together - he was halfway to the Sorting Hat before he found… dear Merlin and Morgana, the most breathtaking boy Regulus had ever seen in his eleven years of life. Sun-kissed brown skin, messy black hair that looked soft to the touch, even from a distance, hazel eyes that shined brightly behind the glasses resting on the bridge on his nose… Regulus nearly gasped aloud. This must be the type of beauty poets spend their entire lives writing about, he thought to himself, composing sonnet after sonnet, filling parchment after parchment, publishing book after book. It seemed unfair for someone so ethereal to walk among them… how could the rest of them compare?... not that Regulus was complaining, only making an observation!
A short blonde girl he didn’t know suddenly grabbed onto his hand, momentarily diverting his attention away from the otherworldly experience he was having. Regulus usually despised people touching him, sans a select few individuals, but his manners won out after she mumbled that she was ‘really nervous’ (Pandora confessed two months later that he had looked seconds away from having a panic attack - which was valid, though not for the reason she assumed - and since he seemed kind, she sought to comfort him the only way she knew how). Not shaking her off proved to be an excellent decision; her comforting grip helped keep him anchored to reality when he discerned exactly who he was swooning over, after spotting his brother seated next to the entrancing boy in question. Those pictures Sirius had of his ‘best mates’ didn’t do Potter (or Lupin) justice - Regulus should have been able to pick James Potter out of a crowd, and then he could have hated him properly from that moment on (Regulus will NOT blame himself for rudely refusing to look at Potter when Sirius introduced them on Platform 9 3/4. He hated meeting new people, ever, but especially when he was anxious… erm, more anxious than usual, that is. Why on Earth did his brother assume Regulus would want to suddenly meet his bestest best mate ever, when he was in the midst of have an internal crisis over his impending sorting?!)!
At the tender age of eleven, Regulus learned an important facet of life - the Fates had a wicked sense of humor.
“Earth to Regulus.” Sirius snaps his fingers in front of the Slytherin’s face. “You went all far away like you do when you’re monumentally pissed, so I was trying to tell you that I knew you wouldn’t lie to Cissa and Andie about something so important. I just wanted to hear all the gossip about your love life, which I knew you’d never tell me otherwise, ‘cept then I realized you weren’t silently seething, merely lost in that big ole’ head of yours.”
Huh… so Sirius actually does possess some degree of cunning… who knew? Granted, he was raised in a house full of Slytherins and surrounded by only Slytherins for his first eleven years, so it makes sense that he’d pick up on some of their traits.
Aiming to distract his brother from this line of questioning, Regulus mutters, “I need to use my eye-drops.”
It works like a charm.
Chapter 2: Crossing of Paths
Chapter Text
There’s something else in Regulus’s life, besides that pesky physical attraction to one James Potter, that he’d rather die than admit to anyone; he gets the best sleep ever when he shares a bed with his older brother. Sirius’s whispered mumblings throughout the night act as a soothing white noise, slowing Regulus’s frenzied thoughts until he’s drifting away into a peaceful, rejuvenating slumber.
To his immense frustration, consistent, quality sleep is not something Regulus experiences all that often these days. His mind is constantly worrying over something, and no matter how many times he pleads for his brain to put a cork in it… it ignores him. At Hogwarts, when his insomnia is at its worst, he’ll sneak out of the dorm, either finding his way to the kitchens to chat with the house elves, or up to the Astronomy Tower to gaze at the night sky for hours on end. Regulus has yet to get caught partaking in his nighttime activities, unlike Sirius and his little friend group, who end up in detention multiple times a month for being out past curfew (it’s helpful that the caretaker Filch, turns a blind eye if he sees Regulus, mostly thanks to his feline companion, Mrs. Norris, who designated the young Slytherin as one of the very few people she likes… it doesn’t hurt that he’s also not up to any mischief). Needless to say, returning to Hogwarts this year was a harder adjustment than usual; with Sirius sticking to his side for much of the summer, Regulus got to experience what it’s like to be a well-rested individual for a significant length of time.
If you look hard enough, even the best of things have downsides.
Case in point - there’s a profound drawback to sharing a bed (or even a room) with Sirius; he’s a morning person. And not the type of morning person who intentionally wakes up early to be productive, but will indulge in a lie-in when they choose to.
No, Sirius Orion Black is the freakish kind of morning person.
It doesn’t matter what time he went to bed, what physically demanding activities he did the day before, or if there’s any sunlight streaming into the room, all of it’s irrelevant. Because Sirius, without fail, naturally wakes up between 5:30-6am every bloody morning. On the very rare occasions he doesn’t, it’s because he’s either ridiculously sick or had an emotional upheaval the day before (and as melodramatic as Sirius is, that sort of thing has only happened a handful of times).
“Merlin, are you finally awake, Reggie?” Sirius huffs. “You’ve been asleep for ages, I was starting to get bored.”
Regulus suppresses a shudder; a bored Sirius Black was chaos incarnate.
His yawn, however, refuses to be suppressed. “S’time?”
Casting a Tempus Charm, Sirius reports, “It’s 7:30.”
Blegh.
With an aggrieved sigh, Regulus closes his eyes, adamantly against the idea of being awake before 10am on the weekend. This sentiment was not shared - Sirius is already dressed for the day, wearing a t-shirt touting some Muggle band and jeans, his combat boots (also ridiculously expensive, like the heeled boots from yesterday) perched on Regulus’s nightstand. Silver earrings dangle from his ears, and his raven-hair gleams in a way that Regulus knows takes at least an hour to achieve.
“Fortunately, I found the latest issue of Quidditch Weekly to keep me occupied. My copy mysteriously disappeared before I had a chance to read it.”
Oh fuck.
Cracking an eye open, the first thing Regulus sees is Sirius’s wide, teasing smile, but regardless, apologizing for stealing his stuff remains the proper thing to do. “Sorry, I was going to return it.” (He wasn’t.)
Rolling the magazine up, Sirius lightly smacks him on the head like a misbehaving dog. “You really are gay, huh? Keeping a Quidditch magazine in your pillow, Reg, who does that?”
It dawns on Sirius what precisely that would mean after he says it; he chucks the magazine off the bed with a shriek.
“No!” Scrambling into a seated position, Regulus grabs his brother’s arm. “I was reading it yesterday when you showed up, I don’t use it for that… Merlin, Sirius, where is your mind at to think such a thing?”
“It’s a legitimate conclusion,” Sirius argues defensively, while simultaneously looking relieved. “Besides, I’m aware I tend to view you as the adorable, little toothless boy who clung to me whenever he was frightened,” Regulus yanks his hand back, “who always begged me to tell him another bedtime story, but I recognize you’re at the age where you’re starting to have thoughts about boys, becoming curious -”
“No! Sirius, I beg you, stop -”
“It’s a normal thing to be curious about you know, and a natural thing to do,” Sirius continues right on, maintaining a neutral tone and expression despite the mortifying topic. “And there’s no shame in discussing it -”
His words come to an abrupt end when Regulus proceeds to smother his brother with the nearest pillow. “We are NOT having this conversation, ever!” Being an only child isn’t ideal, especially growing up as a Black in Grimmauld Place, but it’s a better alternative to this.
“It’s normal!” the Gryffindor sing-songs, freeing himself by smacking Regulus upside the head with one of the other pillows. He waggles an eyebrow tauntingly. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about wanking, Reggie? I can impart some brotherly wisdom… tried and true methods of how to do it, how you can get away with it in a dorm filled with other blokes, and of course, cleaning spells -"
“Sirius, no!” It’s way too early for this type of mental torture. “Salazar’s soggy socks, I forgot how bloody annoying you can be!”
Squishing the younger’s cheeks between his hands, Sirius’s eyes burn unusually bright. “What are you going to do about it, Reg, hm? Curse me? Kick me out? Write a nasty letter to Mother about how terrible I am, as if she doesn’t already know?” Oh lovely, his brother is in one of those self-destructive moods where he’ll pick a fight with Regulus over literally anything. “Maybe over the Christmas hols, you both can take turns using the Cruciatus Curse on me, hm? A good bonding exercise for Mummy and her baby boy, doesn’t that sound like oodles of fun?”
As part of the brother’s tutoring separate from Hogwarts, Grandfather and Father sporadically used the Torture Curse on each of them for short increments of time, teachings that didn’t begin until they reached the age of ten. It wasn’t a punishment, but a lesson, the thought process behind it twofold; not only should they be familiar with the sensation so as not to be caught unawares if ‘enemies’ casted it upon them, they should also have practical understanding of how it affected their opponents. They’ve yet to be asked to cast it themselves, thank Merlin… Regulus doesn’t think he has the stomach to use it on anyone, not after seeing it properly leveled on his brother.
Mother, who was never a part of those lessons, used the spell on her eldest son just once, never on her youngest. But that one time left a lasting impact.
It was the summer Regulus turned eleven, his last before going off to Hogwarts; Mother was in another spat with her firstborn about how he had wrought great shame upon their family with his sorting and subsequent ‘degenerate’ behavior throughout the school year. Regulus doesn’t remember exactly what Sirius said, something along the lines of, ‘What’s an ugly hag like you gonna do when her prized son is sorted into Hufflepuff, huh? You better come to terms with the inevitable disappointment, Mother. It’s difficult, I know, so you have my condolences… but if I can accept that my parents will always be letdowns, surely a shrew like you can learn to do the same in regards to her children.’
Father barged into the drawing room when he heard the commotion, Sirius screaming from pain, Regulus screaming at her to stop. But Mother wouldn’t. She held him under the curse for what felt like hours, her beautiful face twisted in the ugliest of expressions, looking like the hag Sirius accused her of being. Eventually, she let up when Father raised his wand warningly at her, but she insisted Sirius be left alone to ‘let the message sink in’. Regulus will always regret how he allowed himself to be ushered out of the room, without a single complaint, leaving his brother panting on the carpet, drenched in sweat, muscles periodically twitching at random. Sure, Sirius told him to go, even gathered the energy to send Regulus a reassuring smile, but the younger should have refused, done something, stayed with his brother, at the very least.
Later that night, every time Regulus closed his eyes, the echoes of his brother’s agonized screams reverberated through his head. He took it as a sign. Sneaking across the hall, Sirius wasn’t in his bedroom, so Regulus crept down the stairs; terror filled him upon finding the drawing room empty, the jar of Floo powder in pieces on the rug, no sign of his brother. Frantic, he called for Kreacher, who alerted their parents… which ended up being a giant waste of time. Father decreed Sirius could have the weekend to calm down and ‘see sense’; if he wasn’t back by lunchtime on Monday, then Father would personally fetch him from Potter Manor. Worried and petty, Regulus argued in favor of going to Potter Manor right away; they could recruit Uncle Alphard and Uncle Gio if he wanted numbers in their favor, but Father refused to listen. ‘A wise leader does not jump to war, Regulus, not while other avenues remain. When your brother becomes Head of House, you will do well to remember this counsel.’
All in all, it was probably a good thing they didn’t descend on Potter Manor in a storm of Black rage, seeing as how Sirius wasn’t actually there…
Sunday evening came around. After supper, Regulus had fallen asleep curled up in one of the wingback chairs in the drawing room, where he’d taken up post ever since his brother left. He hoped Sirius would return on his own, and while that never happened, it proved to be a good decision. Shouts outside of the drawing room startled him awake. Seconds later, before he could react, a burly man stepped out of the fire. Without preamble, he threw Regulus over his shoulder and muttered, ‘Trust me, pup, you don’t want to be here for this.’
In his delirium, his brother didn't Floo to Potter Manor, as was his intention.
It would be the understatement of the millennium to say that Grandfather and Grandmother did not take kindly to unexpectedly discovering their grandson, who also happened to be the heir of their Ancient and Noble bloodline, half-unconsciousness on their antique rug, convulsing from aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse. When Regulus arrived at Black Manor, delivered in one piece by Matthias (the only non-house elf working for Grandmother), Sirius told him that their grandparents spent the last several days alternating between fussing over him and having rows with each other about whose fault it was that their son, Orion, was an overwhelming disappointment. The brothers then spent a pleasant month at their grandparents’, which coincided with the length of time it took for Walburga and Orion to negotiate the release of their children back into their care. Unsurprisingly, Mother and Father were the last of the Blacks to sign Grandfather’s document detailing the acceptable and unacceptable punishments that could be inflicted on any child with the surname ‘Black’... anyone who violated the accords, whether it be the child’s parents or another relative, would be punished ‘severely’.
Never has Regulus successfully navigated this particular mood of his brother’s. In fact, he usually (unintentionally) escalates the situation further… but today, his overactive imagination keeps everything under control.
“How do you reckon I would even bring that up in a letter?” Regulus absentmindedly asks, scrunching his nose up at the thought of writing such words to his parents of all people. “Perhaps something along the lines of, ‘Dear Mother… my brother has insisted we discuss the act of self-pleasuring, please forbid him from pursuing this topic of conversation before it becomes fodder for my continuously growing collection of nightmares’?”
With a visible shudder and a furious shake of his head, Sirius cries, “Nope, nope, nope! I recant this topic of discussion, you aren’t allowed to say such words until you’re thirty, and if you engage in previously mentioned activities, I do not wish to know about it.”
An opportunity for revenge comes moments later, when Sirius is hyper-focused on an attempt to bring his brother’s tousled curls into some semblance of order. “I must say, I’m pleased Quidditch will be starting soon. After the chaos that was our summer break, I look forward to having a consistent outlet for stress relief again.” Tapping a finger against his chin, Regulus adopts a thoughtful expression. “Although, that relief may be due to the post-practice circle jerks, rather than the sport itself.” Miming the derogatory action, he adds a lewd wink for good measure. “Hard to say, if you catch my drift.”
Recoiling backwards so quickly, Sirius nearly pitches himself off the bed. “REGULUS ARCTURUS BLACK!!” the Gryffindor squawks indignantly. “You better be joking! Who taught you such a filthy term?!” A stupid question if there ever was one… Bellatrix, who else? Now, where she learned such a term is absolutely none of Regulus’s business, thank you. “I KNOW you did not hear it from me!”
Regulus almost bursts out laughing at how scandalized his brother sounds. “I have been on the team since I was twelve, you know. Bound to pick up some things over the years, I’m sure you’ve experienced the same.”
“I have NOT! And I will… I will be having words with your Captain,” Sirius sputters, hands waving wildly in the air. “At once!”
“Justin will tell you what the previous Captain told him,” the Slytherin shrugs, his discomfort over the vulgar topic worth it in the face of how uncomfortable he’s making his ‘unflappable’ brother. “It’s not gay if you don’t look at anyone else’s cock.”
“REGULUS!”
“I apologize, brother, that was crass of me.” Breaking out his sincerest smiles, he bids his time until Sirius calms down again. Then… he pounces. “I should have said ‘penis’.”
“Stop!” the Black heir cries, hiding his flushed face in his hands. “Good Godric, Regulus! What has gotten into you?”
“Prick? Oops, silly me, to clarify, I meant ‘prick’ is the word I should have used, rather than ‘cock’.” He waits a moment before adding, “A prick hasn’t gotten into me… yet.”
“I’m sorry, Reggie, okay?” Sirius looks like he’s on the verge of having a stroke, making Regulus almost feel bad. “You’re much too young for any of that… sweet Merlin have mercy, I’m too young for any of that! Please, please stop being awful, you win, I concede -”
Ah, but they’re having so much fun! Why stop now?…
“Perhaps ‘pecker’ is more preferable? Or willy? Phallus? Knob?”
Sirius puts his fingers in his ears. “La la la la, you’re a terrible brother, I’m not listening to this -”
The triumph of Regulus’s success is short lived. The sound of the door opening draws his attention; it’s too early for Barty or Evan to be up, the lucky bastards, meaning someone must be coming in. Noticing the shift of his focus, Sirius hesitantly lowers his hands… they both jump when the bed curtains are unexpectedly flung open with a swoosh.
“Oh good, you’re already awake.” Narcissa’s lips are quirked up, like she knows she startled them… probably did it on purpose too, ugh, rude. “I need to borrow you for a moment, cousin, so please follow me while we leave the baby to prepare himself for the day.” Regulus scowls at the jibe, but her serene smile doesn’t waver.
Sirius’s squints suspiciously at the older girl. “Why?”
“You’ll find out when you follow, now, won’t you?” She claps her hands together. “Chop chop, much to do. Meet us down in the Common Room at 8, please, baby cousin.”
The older girl saunters away, ignoring his grumbling about the title bestowed upon him - Andromeda and Narcissa only refer to him as the ‘baby’ in Sirius’s presence.
“I’m sure it’s nothing bad,” Regulus says, supportively patting his brother’s knee. “At the very least… it likely has nothing to do with shafts or rods.”
With a loud groan, Sirius roughly pinches Regulus’s arm in retaliation.
Twenty minutes later, Regulus enters the nearly-empty Common Room twenty, overwrought with nervous energy. Worry clouds his thoughts… were Sirius and Narcissa in another argument? Was she demanding he explain his sudden appearance in Slytherin? Would… would she say something, intentional or not, that would make Sirius leave?... had he already left?
Plopping down on the bay window seat, he gazes out into the Black Lake. From this vantage point, the water doesn’t seem quite so terrifying. In fact, it’s almost… peaceful. Was that peace a ruse, though? Was life as complicated underwater as it was above it? What do the merpeople think of them, Regulus wonders, from the small glimpses they see? Were their courting processes more straightforward? Were they free to choose who they love (or mate with), or were those decisions dictated to them by their parents? Do they actually have family structures?... Regulus makes a mental note to swing by the library after breakfast.
Nose pressed to the glass, is that a pair of yellow eyes or some sort of incandescent specimen?, Regulus flinches when the quiet is shattered by Sirius’s bark-like laughter.
“Ow,” he whines, rubbing his smarting forehead where it connected with the window.
“Reg, what in Merlin’s name are you doing?!” Concern laces his voice, but Sirius doesn’t appear too bothered overall. It seems whatever Narcissa wanted with him wasn’t bad, exactly like Regulus said… it’s so satisfying to be right all the time, how could Sirius ever doubt him? “From the looks of it, you’re trying to pass through the glass like a ghost and go for an underwater swim… er, float?”
He blanches at the thought.
“I thought I saw…” Glancing behind him, he sighs, the glowing light that had captured his attention nowhere to be found. The seaweed ripples like something large swam through it, but there’s no telling what it could be in a lake so populated. “Nevermind. Are we ready?”
Two girls in Narcissa’s year stand behind the Black sisters, fraternal twins if Regulus remembers correctly, deep in discussion about something on a piece of parchment held between them.
“We are,” Andromeda confirms, not bothering to hide her grin. “Are you?... or would you prefer we leave you alone to zone out some more? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you up this early on a Saturday, even for Quidditch.”
Regulus groans. “Please, don’t remind me! It’s unnatural to wake up this early on a weekend.”
“You’re unnatural,” Sirius jibes.
Time to break out the ultimate retort, the one that guarantees the insult war will end in his favor:
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“Real mature, baby Reg,” the Gryffindor chuckles.
With one last look out of the window, no glowing light… did I imagine it?, the younger Slytherin rises to his feet. “Like you could lecture anyone on maturity, brother.”
“Fair point.” Always able to find something to fuss over, Sirius starts brushing invisible dust off Regulus’s robes the second he’s within arms reach. “So, Cissa wanted to pick my brain for some renovation ideas.” Once Regulus is deemed presentable, they follow the older Slytherin girls out of the Common Room. “Can you imagine how much it must have hurt her to ask for my opinion?”
Narcissa’s responding laugh is light and airy, not the mocking one she usually uses whenever Sirius is around. “It certainly didn’t hurt me as much as it pained you to thank me last night.” She falls back a few steps to walk with them, her grin teasing. “You remember, surely, when I fixed the atrocity that was your face?”
Sirius gasps. “Excusez-moi, but ‘atrocity’ is never the word to use when my handsome face is involved.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Andromeda frowns in mock-confusion. “Cissa, was that Gilderoy I just heard? I would have thought he’d still be getting his beauty rest at this hour.”
“How did I manage to forget what complete and utter bullies you two are?!” Sirius bemoans, eliciting snickers from the other three Blacks. “Selective amnesia brought on by too many traumatic events, no doubt.”
The bickering continues, as it always does, though it’s surprisingly good-natured, which is a nice change of pace.
Regulus should have known the startling lack of real drama wouldn’t last once they left the safety of the Slytherin Dungeons.
Andromeda is the first to spot them.
“Incoming,” she warns under her breath.
Swaggering down the last set of stairs of the Grand Staircase, Potter excitedly shouts Sirius’s name when he spots his friend. In his relentless determination to reach their group, he nearly collides with a poor first-year, who leaps out of the way just in time to avoid being trampled by the Gryffindor Chaser. Lupin and Pettigrew maintain their sedate pace, but make a beeline for the Slytherins + Sirius, great.
Sirius’s chosen brother side-steps around Andromeda, giving her a wide berth and a curt nod. He stops short in front of the youngest member of the Black family; Regulus purposefully positioned himself in front of Narcissa and Sirius, meaning Potter will have to go through him first if he intends to get to his ‘best mate’.
On weekends, most Hogwarts students forgo their school robes for more casual attire. Clad in a form-fitting ‘Gryffindor Quidditch’ shirt and pair of jeans with ‘fashionable’ tears, Regulus can’t help but think Potter’s outfit should be a violation of Hogwarts’s dress code for how incredibly revealing it is, weekend or not. The fabric clings so tightly to the Chaser’s torso, every inch of defined muscle is visible to the naked eye (and sweet Merlin have mercy, there’s so much muscle on display. Sirius wasn’t exaggerating last night when he said his friend bulked up over the summer). And don’t even get Regulus started on the indecency of that rip near Potter’s right thigh! It’s obscene, absolutely and totally obscene.
He doesn’t attempt to move around Regulus, hopefully smart enough to realize the Slytherin will draw his wand in the corridor, school rules be damned, rather than allow him to pass. Potter just stands in front of the youngest Black and gazes pitifully over his shoulder. Merlin, how absolutely pathetic! He was away from Sirius for what… fifteen hours at most?
“Potter,” Regulus greets sullenly, grateful that the Gryffindor is too distracted to hear his gulp.
Potter, who looks like someone kicked his crup, insulted his and his pet’s ancestry, and then chucked the little beast out of a window, finally turns his attention to the younger Slytherin. His face then does this weird thing where it morphs into a sort of… flirty expression… that girls who lack any sense whatsoever undoubtedly swoon over.
Regulus’s stupid traitorous heart skips a beat in his chest.
“Baby Black, it’s so good to see you,” Potter coos, his dazzling smile holding steady even after Regulus’s whispered stinging hex hits his bare arm. “Nothing brightens my day more than seeing your lovely face first thing in the morning.”
Hate, hate, hate, HATE.
Regulus wrinkles his nose. “Yours darkens mine.”
Arrogant as ever, the Gryffindor purrs, “And I know how much you like that, my little black swan.” A coy wink follows the disparaging words, sending a rush of heat to Regulus’s face. The audaciousness of this… varmint! Fully intending to guarantee Potter never has the gall to mock him again, especially in front of his family, Regulus’s fingers tighten around his wand. But before he can choose a curse to start with, Potter goes back to staring pathetically over Regulus’s shoulder. “Alright, mate?”
“Fine, James, thank you.”
Sirius was frustratingly mum on the topic of what caused his departure from Gryffindor Tower, but given the sheer animosity emanating from Lupin (and only Lupin), it’s evident he’s the reason for the relocation. Wrapping his head around the thought of Lupin being the one to injure his brother is a difficult endeavor, though… maybe Sirius picked a fight with someone else on his way to the dungeons? Seems exactly like the sort of thing he’d do, especially if a spat with his beloved put him in a downhearted mood.
“See, James,” Lupin drawls, eyeing their group similarly to the way one might look at a squashed bug on the bottom of a shoe, “I told you he was fine. Just found a new girl’s dorm to sleep in, how shocking.”
Uhh… does he think Sirius cheated on him?! There’s absolutely no way his brother would ever be unfaithful to Lupin, Regulus would never believe (or tolerate) such slander. Anyone who’s ever looked at Sirius’s expression when he’s listening to Lupin’s talk, or seen how captivated Sirius is when he’s watching Lupin do, well… anything, would agree. In fact, Regulus once conducted a case study - whether Lupin was quietly reading a book, assisting younger students with their homework, or participating in a demonstration in Dueling Club, Sirius observed him with the exact same unwavering intensity, each and every time. It brings to mind the word ‘reverent’; Sirius’s focus automatically shifts when Lupin enters the room, narrowing down until it’s just the two of them, no one else, like Sirius is the moon and Lupin is his world, the person he revolves around. Not even Potter gets that sort of devoted attention from the Black heir. How could Lupin believe Sirius would engage in relations with anyone else, when Sirius doesn’t even notice other people?
One thing is certain - his brother would NOT react kindly to his ‘friend’s’ accusations of depravity.
Potter runs a hand through his already messy hair, and Regulus vehemently hates how his eyes follow the flexed bicep until the Chaser’s arm drops back down to his side. “Yeah, but a Slytherin?... I mean no offense against your illustrious house, of course! It’s just a far trek from Gryffindor, that’s all.”
“Nice save,” Andromeda snorts.
“No, it makes sense if you think about it.” Lupin looks solely at Potter while he speaks, as if Sirius, the person he’s talking about, isn’t standing in front of him, too. “He’s already gone through at least half of the girls in the other three houses, so he needs a larger pool to fish from.”
Still… Sirius says nothing, doesn’t try to correct Lupin’s obviously inaccurate conclusion. Does he want Lupin to assume he slept in some girl’s room last night? Unless it’s some weird jealousy ploy, the only plausible explanation for his silence is that he doesn’t think Lupin would believe him. And that doesn’t sit right with Regulus. From what he’s seen so far, Remus Lupin is his brother’s only tolerable friend (which doesn’t say much considering how low the bar is). Maybe his confidence was misplaced; what actually lies underneath that placid mask Lupin usually wears?
Narcissa bares her teeth. “Think about Sirius’s exploits often, do you, Lupin?”
The taller twin lets out a scathing laugh. “Seems like he does, Cissa, though I can’t fathom why he would care so much.” After a quick, silent exchange with the youngest Black sister, the girl presses a firm kiss to Sirius’s cheek. “I don’t have time for this, but I’ll catch you later, handsome. Thank you for your services last night, you’re a life-saver.”
The word ‘services’ is said like it means something significantly dirtier than discussing renovation plans for their dorm room this morning.
Following her sister’s lead, the shorter twin plants a kiss on Sirius’s other cheek. “See you tonight, Siri.” With a giggle and a toss of her hair, she turns to Narcissa. “Thank you again for finally introducing us to your dashing cousin, Cissa! We had a great time together, didn’t we, love?”
Predictably, Sirius responds with a cheeky wink, and a flirtatious, “I certaintly did.”
Regulus almost facepalms when Lupin’s face darkens.
Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t date, he thinks exasperatedly, especially if this is the result.
“Now that we’ve confirmed he’s quite alright despite what was evidently a long night,” Lupin sneers, crossing his arms over his chest, “can we go now, James?”
Sirius finally speaks up. “Aww, why do you make it sound like I’m some sort of floozy, Remus?” He adds a little laugh after, like he’s trying to lessen the blow of Lupin’s scorn by making it into a joke.
“Aren’t you?” Lupin snaps back. Without waiting for a response, he spins around and stalks off through the doors of the Great Hall, Pettigrew following behind him after sharing a mournful look with Potter.
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Potter looks so done, that Regulus nearly feels a twinge of sympathy… until he catches sight of his brother’s devastated expression, and all of that compassion evaporates into nothingness. Sirius’s usual facade returns a moment later - once again, he’s the composed, easy-going Sirius Black their peers believe him to be, completely unfazed by the profound disdain emanating from one of his closest friends. His mask doesn’t fool Regulus, though.
Sirius tugs lightly on his sibling’s sleeve. “Hey, I’ll see you later, I’ve lost my appetite.” Before anyone can react, he strides away, going back the way they came… Regulus sincerely hopes he’s the only one who heard his brother’s sniffle.
“Sirius!” Potter calls at his friend’s retreating form, but Sirius doesn’t stop … if anything, he lengthens his stride.
“I’ll handle it, Cissa, you guys go on ahead,” Andromeda whispers.
By now, a red haze has clouded over Regulus’s vision. How dare James Potter try and play both sides, when Lupin is clearly in the wrong! Spineless, useless, no-good coward, how did he ever make it into the house of the ‘brave’?
Potter’s crestfallen, dejected expression doesn’t deter Regulus from roughly shoving him in the chest. The older teen stumbles backwards, looking confounded by the Slytherin’s actions.
“I don’t know what my brother has told you about our family over the years,” Regulus growls softly, one hand fisted in Potter’s shirt, the other clasped tightly around the wand pointed at his throat. “But even in The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, we don’t strike our significant others, it’s distasteful and unrefined.”
He’s fishing here, but Potter doesn’t need to know that.
James Potter, despite his decent looks, is clearly an imbecile. “But the children are fair game, is that it?”
Like it has a mind of its own, Regulus’s wand lets out a few sparks, and Potter winces when they singe his skin. “Watch it, Potter, or I’ll be required to make an example out of you.”
“Do it,” the Gryffindor goads in an unnervingly deep voice. “Come on, Regulus, I dare you. Make an example out of me.”
Filled with a furious, burning rage, how dare he not take the threat seriously, Regulus pushes Potter again, hard enough to knock him against the stone wall. “I don’t know what game you’re trying to play, but I should warn you - I never lose.”
His words earn him a shaky chuckle from the Gryffindor, who doesn’t move to defend himself. “And I always win, so where does that leave us, Baby Black?”
Without warning, something shifts in the air.
Ever so slowly, Potter’s tongue peaks out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip. Regulus’s mind goes blank, instantly forgetting why he was so mad in the first place… until Potter speaks again, and it all comes rushing back to him. “If you’re not going to curse me, then there are some other things we could do now that we've found ourselves so close together like this. I’ve got a few ideas, of course, especially if you’re up for playing a game. But might I make a suggestion? Perhaps we take this somewhere more private… wouldn’t want the children to witness these sorts of things, or uh, your cousin.”
Such as Regulus murdering Potter and burying his body in pieces around the grounds? Yeah, probably not a good thing for the children to see… it’s refreshing to learn that the Gryffindor possesses some modicum of intelligence.
A curse finds its way to the tip of his tongue, but a firm hand grabs his shoulder.
“Regulus,” Narcissa warns, and when he meets her eyes, he understands what she’s trying to tell him.
Returning his wand into the depths of his robes, Regulus smooths Potter’s ruffled shirt back into place, ignoring how there’s nothing but hard, taut muscle under his hand… he’ll process that tidbit later in the safety of his room.
He doesn’t step back, unwilling to let any passersby overhear their conversation.
“I don’t know how you can stand there in your cocoon of self-righteousness after what Lupin did to your supposed best mate, but be a doll and pass on a little warning for me, will you?” He’s hoping for a denial, wants to hear it wasn’t Lupin who struck his brother, but it never comes; instead, he receives a hesitant nod to continue. “You tell that cretin friend of yours that if he EVER puts his filthy hands on my brother again, he’ll learn what it means to incur the full wrath of the House of Black. And trust me when I say, Potter, you haven’t the faintest idea what we’re capable of when it comes to one of our own, and yes, Sirius is ours, so make sure Lupin gets that message, yeah?”
Sharply patting Potter’s cheek, pat, pat, pat, Regulus smirks when the older boy winces on the last hit. But the tanned skin, now blotted with splotches of crimson, puts him under some sort of spell, bewitching him, inducing a momentary lapse in judgment. Taking a leaf from his fellow Slytherin’s book, he grips Potter’s chin and leans closer, closer, closer. Potter swallows, eyes wide until they flutter closed in anticipation. He doesn’t protest, doesn’t try to pull away; it’s almost like he wants Regulus to kiss him, but that’s absurd, unless he has his own agenda… or he’s the actual slag in the ‘Marauders’. Their lips are centimeters apart, impossibly close, but at the very very last second, Regulus nudges Potter’s face to the side, placing a feather-light kiss on the reddened cheek.
Stepping away is hard, but he has his pride to remember. Regulus offers his arm to Narcissa without meeting her eyes, grateful when she loops hers through his without a word, and they saunter into the Great Hall, heads held high. But again, unable to resist temptation, he glances over his shoulder at the last second; holding a hand to his kissed-cheek, Potter stares into the distance like he’s just received the shock of his life.
Chapter Text
After that unpleasant incident with Lupin, Sirius vehemently refused to leave the confines of the Slytherin Dungeons for the remainder of the weekend, except for two small exceptions - food and a short lived pickup Quidditch game. It took Regulus digging deep and shedding a few tears for his brother to finally agree to accompany him down to the kitchens later that night, opting to (hypocritically!) skip breakfast and lunch rather than risk facing his… whatever Lupin was to him at the present moment. Sure, Pipsy would be happy to deliver food directly into the dorm, but his extroverted brother wasn’t the sort of individual who should be secluded away for any length of time, not if they didn’t want to risk invoking the Black Family Madness buried within.
Thanks to the considerable influence their cousins wielded in Slytherin, no one made a fuss over the Gryffindor-Black’s appearance in their Common Room, not even Severus Snape, Sirius’s arch nemesis since their first year. Unlike other houses, Slytherins are much too polite to stare outright, but Sirius definitely endured a fair amount of curious glances… at least whenever they managed to corral him out of the fourth-year boys’ dormitory. But nothing was said, and Professor Slughorn, the Head of Slytherin House, didn’t pop in to escort Sirius back to the seventh floor.
Spending the entirety of the weekend with his brother at Hogwarts was… weird. Good weird, but strange nonetheless. Whenever Sirius took a break from his self-imposed exile, something their cousins and Barty encouraged much more than Regulus and Evan did, Regulus was blown away by how charming and charismatic his social-butterfly brother could be. Observing from a safe distance, he watched Sirius cheerfully mingle with students Regulus had never once spoken to in the years he’d been at Hogwarts, the heir to the House of Black making fast friends within the house he previously spurned. The female population of Slytherin in particular, under the watchful eye of Narcissa and Andromeda, took to Sirius like a fire-salamander takes to the flame (their cousins were very adamant that neither of the Black brothers were on the market: ‘Spare yourself from heartache, we don’t care what your surname is, it’s not happening’). Their conversations with Sirius initially centered around his penchant for interior design, but he soon discovered other common interests with several snakes, be it anywhere from a shared love of conspiracy theories, supporting the same professional Quidditch team, an obsession with some fictional book series, acting out dramatic monologues simply for the fun of it, all the way to a half-blood’s secret Muggle music collection.
Their lone interaction with non-Slytherins for the weekend was uh… interesting, to say the least. Sunday morning, Sirius insisted they should go flying together, and Regulus, being the sucker that he was, readily agreed. They rarely flew together anymore outside of playing against each other in Quidditch, which didn’t really count in his mind, so Regulus had been excited by the idea. Low and behold, when they arrived at the pitch, a cluster of people were already there, sorting out teams for a pick-up game; Sirius seemed very unsurprised by the whole thing, though how he found out about it, Regulus had no idea. Maybe it was prearranged?
Of fucking course, Potter arrived not three minutes later, thankfully sans Lupin and the other one. He immediately pulled Sirius into an embrace, the two chattering so rapidly, it was impossible to follow their conversation. Fortunately, Potter had some common sense, opting to cheerfully greet Regulus from a respectable distance, while acting like nothing strange happened between them yesterday, thank Merlin. He looked oddly glum when Regulus said he would not be participating in this farce of a scrimmage game. Being the only Slytherin in the bunch, it was clear from the derisive looks he was receiving, his house wasn’t invited for a reason; imagine being the starting Seeker on a house team going on three years, and not being picked from a pool of participants that included first-years! (He didn’t say any of that outright, but if Potter had any intelligence whatsoever, it should have been obvious.)
In an impressive obnoxious display of leadership, Potter swiftly took charge of the chaos, appointing himself as Captain of the ‘purple’ team, and Noah Barnes, Hufflepuff’s starting Seeker, as Captain of the ‘orange’ team. There was only one rule change from standard regulation; if you played on your House team last year, either in the starting line-up or reserves, you had to choose a different position for the pickup game (so Barnes could not play Seeker, Potter could not play Chaser, and Sirius could not play Beater).
Regulus is genuinely beginning to believe that Potter exists solely to ruin his life.
Having just wished his brother luck, saying he’d be watching from the stands, imagine his surprise when Potter’s voice boomed, ‘My first pick is Regulus Black’. Put on the spot like that, Regulus couldn’t walk away, which Potter clearly knew. And oooh, the smugness radiating off him when Regulus begrudgingly took his place on Potter’s right; he nearly lost it when he was cheerfully told to ponder over what position he wanted to play since he'd be selecting first, as if that made up for everything, as if Regulus could be bribed into forgiving him?! Enraging.
Then, it got worse, because Barnes’s first call was for - Sirius Black.
“You sure you want to do this, mate?” Sirius insolently called from the group of unpicked players, refusing to move. “Genuinely, Barnes, please take a moment to consider what your aim is here.”
Barnes, a mousy sixth-year with terrible hair and skin, exuded arrogance from every clogged pore. “Problem, Black? If you don’t want to play, then you can happily watch from the stands.” He pointed to the bleachers, where spectators were starting to gather. “They’re right over there.”
“Whelp, can’t say I didn’t warn ya,” Sirius said, strutting the short distance to take his place on Barnes’s right.
Potter, who again proved he existed simply to make Regulus’s life more dismal than it already was, chose the Ravenclaw Seeker, Edwin Paxton, as his second pick. It’s not Seeker rivalry or anything… Regulus knows he’s better, there’s no competition… he just despises the sod, the absolute scum of his house.
While Paxton’s attention was focused on rudely knocking people aside so he could pass by, Regulus happened to see his brother catch Potter's eye and wink; in return, Potter inclined his head, donning a wicked smirk. He should have known right then and there that everything was about to go up in flames.
It started small, a smoldering burn.
Regulus decided to play Keeper.
Potter then chose Beater.
Paxton then chose Beater.
“Sorry, we already have two Beaters,” Potter said with a mocking frown. “Pick something else.”
Paxton scoffed. “Who? Baby Black -”
“Do not call him that!” Potter snapped, scowling at the seventh-year. “Since I highly doubt you’ve earned the right to refer to him by his first name, Black will suffice.”
“Black,” Paxton hissed, “is Keeper, you are Beater, so -”
Regulus did some simple math.
Potter > Paxton
“I’m the second Beater, sorry,” Regulus smiled innocently. “Pick something else. Or -” He pointed towards the stands. “Feel free to watch with everyone else.” Ignoring the older Gryffindor's pleased grin was easy; Regulus was used to pretending like Potter didn’t exist.
He was warming up with Sirius’s bat, oh-so-conveniently brought down from the castle by Potter himself, who then chivalrously offered it to Regulus while saying he’d use a school one, when a tiny child appeared at his side.
“Hi!” the kid chirped, waving enthusiastically in a way that made Regulus cringe. He was wearing plain black robes, making it impossible to tell which professor lost track of their spawn (they typically put a marker on their children before releasing them into the wild, either with a pin or by dressing them in robes representative of their subject). “I’m Wylan Honeywood.” He stuck his hand out.
Well-mannered, Regulus completed the handshake. “Regulus -”
“Black!” Wylan Honeywood exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “I know, you’re like, a legend.”
Please, like this wasn’t totally some bizarre prank of Potter’s and/or his brother’s?
“Is that so?”
“Yes, everyone knows you’re the best Seeker at Hogwarts, I am a huge fan,” Honeywood gushed, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “It’s an honor to stand in your presence, sir.”
Suspicious. “Right. Hey kid, you can be honest with me… did Potter or Sirius put you up to this? Because you’re sweet, and I’m not mad at you, but I’m also not in the mood for jokes.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I know I can be a bit much,” the kid muttered, his sunny demeanor taking a nosedive. “Captain Potter actually said I should stay away from you, that you wouldn’t want to be bothered, but I’m just… I’m trying out for the Gryffindor team in a few weeks, and I wanted to say that one day, I hope we can play against each other. Cuz you’re like, my idol -”
“Oi!” Potter shouted from the middle of the pitch. “HONEYWOOD, WHAT DID I SAY?!”
The second-year Gryffindor winced. “Oops -”
Regulus made a split second decision, worthy of his Gryffindor brother.
Freedom from awkward social interaction < Supporting the Youths-Defying-Potter Movement
“Eh, ignore him… I do.” Glaring at Potter for good measure, Regulus turned his back on the older teen. “Also, I would be remiss if I failed to point out that Potter is only Captain for this scrimmage. Your house’s Quidditch Captain is some bloke with much bigger muscles.” The kid smirked, which Regulus took as an encouraging sign. “So, you’ll be trying out for Seeker, I presume?”
Technically, Regulus was giving trade secrets to the (potential) competition, but Honeywood was refreshing; the kid definitely had an abundance of sass tucked away, so if Regulus could inspire him to direct that towards Potter and Sirius for the next few years, then… that's a job well done, isn't it?
“Brother,” Sirius called right before the game started, while Regulus was still huddled with his new underling.
“Bye, Mr. Black -”
Oh, dear Merlin, no.
“Just Regulus, please. I'm two years older than you, at most.”
Sirius grabbed the kid by the scruff of the neck before he could make it three steps away. “Nope, stay here, Shrimp Scampi. This message is for you too… also, if you call me Mr. Black, I will dropkick you across the pitch.”
“Roger that,” Wylan saluted, moving back to Regulus’s side. “Ms. Black.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “This is why I never introduced you to Regulus!” The Slytherin tossed his arm over Wylan’s shoulders with a proud grin. “And I stand corrected. Now, although I am always Sirius,” they both booed, “Merlin, you two are dreadful. But seriously, you,” he pointed to his fellow Gryffindor, “Honeywood, you can take Seeker advice from Regulus, but you listen to James. Do you understand?”
“I’m playing Chaser today… does that mean I don't have to listen to either you or Captain -”
“Don’t smart mouth me, I’m being sincere.” Wylan glanced at Regulus for direction, who nodded. “And you, Reg, keep your head down, got it? If James tells you anything, don’t question it, as much as I’m sure it’ll pain you -”
“What’s going on, brother?” Regulus demanded, a foreboding feeling creeping up his spine. “This is supposed to be ‘fun’.”
Sirius’s answering smile was vicious. “Oh, my sweet summer child… revenge is always fun.”
That smoldering fire? How quickly it turned into a blazing inferno.
Fifteen minutes. That’s how long the pickup game lasted… and it wasn’t because someone caught the Snitch either. Potter stuck close to Barnes, who had opted to play Keeper, leaving Regulus alone to take care of the other five players (he decided to just avoid Sirius, so he didn’t have to listen to any of his whinging later on). According to the rules, a Bludger couldn’t be hit at a Keeper unless a Chaser was in scoring position; Potter played it ‘fairly’, but in one impressive swing, he whacked a Bludger right into Barnes’s stomach. The Bludger was then followed by his bat, after it ‘accidentally’ flew out of his hand, smacking right into the Keeper’s forehead.
“Dreadful accident,” Sirius tutted as they watched Barnes being carted off to the Hospital Wing by one of his fellow housemates. “Terrible luck, but it happens. Probably feels similar to an elbow to the side of the head. Totally survivable, he’ll be alright.”
Regulus shuddered; he knew the feeling well, as it was ironically Barnes who elbowed him in the side of the head last year during a race for the Snitch (the attempted sabotage wasn't enough to prevent Regulus from catching the golden ball, obviously).
During the ‘break’, Potter spent a majority of the time with Wylan, their heads bent together. The younger Gryffindor looked confused, but he nodded to whatever Potter was saying. When play resumed, Regulus thought it strange how close to the ground Wylan flew whenever he had possession of the Quaffle. Everything came to a head minutes later when he passed it to Paxton, who had flown lower to be within his younger teammate's range… and then Sirius barreled into him, literally jumping off his broom to tackle the Ravenclaw Seeker to ‘get the Quaffle’. Locked together, they fell through the air, thankfully only a short distance from the ground, and then rolled together across the grass, the Quaffle immediately forgotten. The violence was shocking, even though the two had been at each other’s throats the entire game, both moonlighting as Chasers for the day. Whenever one had the Quaffle, the other would roughly bump into them, elbows and fists flying, an overly aggressive display of competitiveness for a match that had no meaning.
One of Paxton’s loser friends joined in on the brawl on the ground, and of course, Saint Potter leapt into the fray, inspiring other Gryffindors and Ravenclaws to participate; it took several minutes for the fracas to be broken up, a joint effort of multiple older students who were either in the stands or on the pitch. Luckily, no faculty had ambled down to watch, but considering how many witnesses there were, there’s a high probability word would reach them.
They decided to lie low in the Slytherin Locker Room, the closest place to the pitch that offered any semblance of privacy. Yet no matter how loudly Regulus shouted about how brutish they acted, or how sternly he lectured about what terrible role models they made (with a shaken, though thankfully unharmed, Wylan tucked safely under his arm), Sirius and Potter refused to explain what Barnes and Paxton did to justify wrecking what should have been a nice Sunday inter-house pickup match. The only thing they would say? ‘They both deserved it, they know exactly what they did. But if they didn't learn their lesson, we’ll happily give them a refresher course’. While Sirius and Potter talked, they meticulously tended to each others' wounds, like it was something they did often. Which… yeah, Regulus does not want to know.
“If I make Seeker, should I expect people to come for my blood, even when the season hasn’t started?” Wylan fearfully asked when they were getting ready to leave.
Potter clapped him on the shoulder. “Nah, this was personal, and I know you’d never do what they did.”
Regulus’s, “What, pray tell, did Barnes and Paxton do to you two? ” went unacknowledged. Again.
“People will definitely come for you right before a big match, though, so you should be on the lookout for stray curses in the corridors,” Sirius said. “Oi, don’t look at me like that! I’m not sugarcoating things for him! He makes the team, then he’s a big boy who can hear the truth.”
“That is NOT the truth!” Regulus hotly countered. “Some people get mouthy,” like Paxton for example, “and will try to intimidate you, especially if they're freakishly tall and can loom over you, but I’ve never had someone pull their wand -”
Sirius scoffed. “One, you rarely leave your dorm, Reg, that’s just how you are. Two, no one wants to incur the wrath of our cousins by getting caught doing something to you,” for some inexplicable reason, this caused Potter to snort, “and three, Fawley can’t risk his star Seeker right before a match, so he has his henchmen trail you on the off chance someone decides to get slick and draw their wand, kind of like a security squad -”
“That’s absurd!” Regulus cried, convinced this was another one of his brother’s conspiracy theories. “I would have noticed! And anyways... Justin doesn’t have henchmen!”
“I’ve seen them,” Sirius argued. “Every year, they’ve got a rotation worked out.”
Potter nodded. “He’s right.”
Please, he was just taking his friend’s side. Sirius could have said the moon was purple, and Potter would agree.
“In your second-year, I cornered Cissa and demanded she find out why some seventh-year bloke was lurking in the shadows, following my twelve-year-old brother wherever he went,” Sirius explained, crossing his arms over his chest, “and that’s when she told me. If you don’t believe me, feel free to ask her!”
Regulus huffed. “I will! And when she says -”
Their argument was interrupted by Potter, the ill-mannered lout. “Think we’re good to leave now.”
The Slytherin knew he should mind his own business, but the way Potter was acting? Dodgy… and since he’d made Regulus’s life unnecessarily difficult, it was only fair to return the favor. “Is there any particular reason as to why you haven’t popped your shoulder back into place, Potter?” He frowned in faux-concern. "Aw, is little baby Potter scared of the pain?"
Sirius’s head whipped up, having been in the process of telling poor Wylan some pre-match horror story, no doubt. “Oi, you said you were good!”
“Er… it’s no big deal, Rem can do it when I get back. I know how you feel about popping things into place, Sirius.” Potter shrugged, which then led him to grimacing because he’s an idiot. “It’s not my wand arm, so it’s fine.”
“How noble of you, Potter,” Regulus drawled. “Such a martyr, you must make your housemates so proud. But what happens if Paxton or any of his goons catch you on your own, decide to get revenge? Might not be your wand arm, but could you defend yourself to your fullest capabilities?”
“Aw, are you worried about -”
“Or Wylan,” Regulus hastily interjected. “Because a gallant Gryffindor like you would surely escort his younger housemate back to the safety of the Common Room… right ?”
In the end, it was Regulus who popped Potter’s shoulder back into place, while Wylan held a squeamish Sirius’s hand. Of course, that meant Regulus had to touch Potter’s jacked upper torso, which was distracting, and would likely leave lasting scars on his psyche. Because fuck, how much chicken did he have to eat to build that sort of muscle? Was he going to get more muscular over the next few years? Could Regulus transfer to Beauxbatons now to spare himself the mental torture of being able to look but never touch… except in weird situations like this?
“Thanks,” Potter said when he turned around, rotating both his shoulders to make sure the pain was gone. His sincere smile was ten times worse than the flirty one from yesterday. “How’d you learn how to do that?”
Regulus, while adamantly not staring at Potter’s lips, shrugged. “I read.”
Come Monday morning, Sirius gently shakes Regulus awake at an ungodly hour, saying he needs to start getting ready if he doesn’t want to be late for class. Unlike a certain someone, Regulus has his morning routine down to 11.75 minutes from start to finish, meaning he’s got another 28.25 minutes left to sleep. Unfortunately, his sleepy brain is awake enough to register that his brother is still wearing the clothes he slept in, his hair a certifiable mess, all of which is highly problematic - it’s a well known fact within their family that Sirius Orion Black needs 90 minutes (minimum) to prepare himself for the day.
Sigh. Clearly it’s up to Regulus to be the older brother in this scenario; for all his Gryffindor-ness, it seems Sirius will happily skip his classes in a bid to avoid his ex?-mate, but that would only bring more trouble than it’s worth.
Riffling through his nightstand drawer to find a spare bit of parchment and a Self-Inking Quill (things that used to be haphazardly laid out on the nightstand, until his brother ‘tidied up’ the dorm over the weekend and put stuff away, ugh), he passes the items over to his sibling. “Write down what books and other items you need.”
Sirius glances down at the parchment, then back up at Regulus with a blank look. “Are we catalog shopping? Ooh, I know a secret passageway to Hogsmeade,” of course he does, “if you want to do the real thing!”
“Things you need from your dorm, books you’ll require for class,” Regulus says in a tone one might use with a child. “And for the record, catalog shopping is also real shopping, you dolt.”
Blanching, Sirius tugs the covers up to his chin. “I’m feeling a bit peaky, you see, terribly tragic,” he coughs pathetically into the crook of his elbow, “but an eight hour nap will surely put me right, not to worry.”
Yeah, him and Regulus both.
“Sirius, I know you don’t want to see them for whatever reason,” the Slytherin says ‘them’, but obviously he means Lupin, “but skipping class will invoke scrutiny, something you need to avoid.” He taps his finger against the parchment. “Write what you need for a week, yeah? Preferably some of your own clothes, too, and I’ll take care of it.”
“Do you hate sharing with me, Reggie?” Sirius’s lip quivers, eyes rapidly filling with tears, but he breaks character the moment he notices his younger brother’s ‘why must I suffer this way?’ expression. “Aw, don’t be like that! Remember when you always wanted to dress like me?”
What a horrible time period in Regulus’s life, must he bring that up? “Back when you had style, you mean?”
“You can say anything else you want about me,” Sirius flips his hair over his shoulder like the diva he not-so-secretly is, “but to say I’m not a fashion-icon within these halls would be a total lie.” (Thankfully for the remnants of Regulus’s sanity, his brother’s favorite weekend attire on warm days - crop tops - had yet to catch on with the male population of Hogwarts, including Sirius's own friends).
Scanning the list when his brother is done, Regulus makes a few additional suggestions before calling for Pipsy’s assistance again. They share a commiserating look over how excessively detailed the parchment is, each item listed along with its exact location - there’s even a map. That moves!
But then Sirius proves he isn’t always the brightest bloke in the room when he suggests to Pipsy that she should wait until classes start to enter his dorm… he then has to ramble out a frantic apology for insinuating she’s a bad house elf, incapable of completing her work without being seen by wizards. Minutes later, Sirius finally sucks in a needed breath after the long-winded word vomit, allowing Pipsy the chance to calmly inform him she was just teasing, she had planned all along to wait until the dorm was empty. Curtseying gracefully, she pops away with a giggle, a speechless Sirius left in her wake.
Thanks to Narcissa styling Sirius’s hair in a fraction of the time it usually takes him, they aren’t late for breakfast, arriving earlier than Regulus ever would on his own. Once inside the Great Hall, Sirius hesitates, looking uneasily between the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables. With a soft sigh, followed by a two-finger wave, he slumps off to the Gryffindor table, shoulders hunched and head bowed to avoid the stares of their peers.
There’s only one person insane enough to be chipper on a Monday morning; Potter eagerly watches his best friend’s approach, squirming in his seat like a child waiting to open his birthday presents (even Wylan looks half asleep, but he musters up a small grin for Regulus that the Slytherin returns). Halfway down the table, Lupin shovels food into his mouth like a barbarian, surely intending to flee the table as soon as possible. Regulus hates the whole thing, hates how utterly despondent his brother looks, hates how cheery Potter looks in turn, hates how he doesn’t know what to do to help…
But someone else does.
Pale fingers curl around Sirius’s forearm, holding him in place. “And just where do you think you’re going?”
“I’ve gotten away with… stuff, this weekend,” he answers Narcissa, confusion lacing his words, “but I’m not naive enough to believe my sudden appearance at your table will go unnoticed.”
“So?” Andromeda hums before sauntering off towards the Slytherin table. Glancing back over her shoulder, she grins slyly, “Let them notice.”
“Don’t look so troubled, cousin. I thought you liked being the center of attention?” Narcissa follows after her sister, Sirius’s arm still locked in her grip. “Truthfully, I dare them to say something.”
Sirius shoots him a ‘what are they on about?’ look; all Regulus can do is shrug.
Turning his attention to the Gryffindor table to see how Sirius’s best mate is taking this change of course, Regulus finds Potter pouting like someone stole his Christmas, canceled only the Gryffindor Quidditch season, and assigned him detention every night for the rest of the year, his betrayed glare directed at Regulus of all people. On a whim, the Slytherin winks cheekily at the older teen, mimicking the sort of inane gesture Potter would use if their positions were reversed. But while Regulus possesses ample amounts of elegance and poise, Potter does not; he startles so badly in response, his elbow accidentally knocks into a pitcher of pumpkin juice, dousing the girl next to him in the sticky orange liquid. Too busy gaping at Regulus to pay his shrieking classmate any mind, he finally tears his attention away when the soaked girl starts hurling hexes at him, spared from consequence thanks to Lupin’s apathetically cast shield charm from several seats down.
Told him I never lose, didn’t I ? Regulus thinks gleefully.
Petty as it is, the entire incident serves to put a skip in Regulus’s step.
Narcissa pushes Sirius down onto the bench, claiming their group’s usual spot in the middle of the long table. He’s then flanked by their cousins, the trio sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, while Regulus sits across from them. Halfway through breakfast, Sirius is in the middle of a passionate spiel regarding how he could improve Wrath’s cat tower when a shadow falls over their table. Regulus’s head whips up, expecting Potter or Lupin, but he chokes on his mouthful of food when his eyes connect with the stern gaze of Professor McGonagall.
Fuck, was she here to punish Sirius for the pickup game brawl? Reprimand him for his choice of seats?... both?
“Merlin, Regulus, we can’t take you anywhere,” Sirius chides, sliding his goblet of water across the table. Once he’s confident his brother isn’t on the verge of dying (again), he raises his head to beam up at his Head of House. “Morning, Minnie, you are looking positively ravishing this morning -“
“Spare me your compliments, Mr. Black, I have no desire to hear them.” The sharp words cause Sirius to deflate, the dejected demeanor from earlier returning. Professor McGonagall’s expression eases ever-so-slightly, probably thrown off by his lack of witty retort. “Might I inquire as to why you are not at your own house table?”
“I wanted to sit with my family on this picturesque morning.” A bolt of lightning flashes across the Great Hall’s ceiling, the rain coming down in sheets. “Who doesn’t love a good rainstorm, am I right?” Probably anyone who has a class outside today, Regulus thinks with a snort. “And our father asked me to keep an eye on my little brother, you see.” Sirius lowers his voice conspiringly. “Regulus has recently developed a regrettable propensity towards finding the most mundane ways to snuff it. You saw it a second ago, of course, and yesterday on the way to the library, he tripped going up the stairs, nearly braining himself on the banister! Everyone in our family is very worried, Professor, it’s caused quite the stir back home.”
“It’s true,” Regulus mumbles when she merely continues to stare humorously down at them, her lips forming a straight line (it’s not true).
“Interestingly enough, in all my communications with Orion Black,” her tone seems to imply there are frequent exchanges with the Black patriarch, “he has yet to mention any concerns about his youngest son.” Yet there are many concerns regarding his oldest, also goes unspoken.
“Heh, well… those letters would go to Professor Slughorn, I’m sure?” Sirius counters with a nervous chuckle.
Narcissa politely clears her throat. “Our house is pleased to have Sirius joining us at our table, Professor.” Without prompting, the other Slytherins around their group nod in support. “We ask that this be allowed to continue, so long as both parties are agreeable.”
“Additionally, his presence at our table does not violate any of the rules currently in place.” Andromeda supportively places a hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “I checked the rule-book this morning, in fact. Students are allowed to sit at other house tables whenever they want, except during the Welcome Feast and other official school events. It seems most students are not familiar with this rule, perhaps because it’s not actively encouraged.”
Sirius looks flabbergasted by their cousins’ willingness to defend him, to stand by his side against a respected authority figure. The one thing Sirius doesn’t seem to understand… still… is that family always comes first. Granted, these last few years didn’t always adhere to that value, but after the girls’ rare heart-to-heart with him on Friday, and the fact that he’s openly acknowledging they’re all related (without a scathing comment following it), they’re much more willing to close ranks around him, putting on a united front.
Seeing the spark of hope slowly light in Sirius’s eyes, the words tumble out of Regulus’s mouth before he can consider the consequences. “Pardon me, Professor, but isn't the Headmaster always promoting the concept of inter-house unity?”
“He is,” she responds hesitantly, no doubt wondering where he’s going with such a statement. Or maybe she’s just surprised he’s speaking without being asked a direct question… which is fair.
“Personally, and this is just my opinion, of course,” Regulus continues breezily, “but I find it implausible that a genial, gregarious relationship between the four houses is the goal when students are constantly forced to stay within the confines of their own house except during their handful of free periods each week. How are we supposed to build or maintain friendships in other houses when nearly every potential avenue for cultivating them is taken from us? And let’s not forget how being forcefully divided during our prime years based on a handful of traits we possess at the mature age of eleven only sets us up for trouble once we enter the workforce upon graduation, a place where the four-house system doesn’t exist. So, here we are, spending our school years surrounded by people ‘like’ us and pitted against those who aren’t, yet out in the real world, we’re expected to interact and collaborate with people from all walks of life without issue. Ironic, isn’t it? I was always led to believe the purpose of an educational institution was to prepare children for adulthood.”
“Mr. Black!” McGonagall cries, aghast.
But Regulus is nowhere close to finished.
“I would also be remiss if I failed to mention how these policies undermine the bonds between family members. Just because my sibling is in Gryffindor, and I’m in Slytherin, I cannot share a meal with my brother for three-quarters of the year? How is that fair when we’ve eaten every meal together for our entire lives up until his enrollment in Hogwarts? How utterly preposterous is it that the house I’m placed in for my seven years of schooling is more important than the blood I share with my kin?” He lets out a sardonic laugh. “Of course, anyone with half a brain can see that our current house system is nothing but a means of control, designed to limit and oppress us both within these illustrious halls and afterwards within the magical community. Because if we’re too busy fighting each other about whose Hogwarts house is better, if we don’t know how to get along with one another, how to work together, how to peacefully coexist with those that are different than us, it’s totally unfathomable than any particular group could band together to create real change. And that’s what it’s all about, right? Maintaining the status quo?”
Regulus has much more to say now that he’s finally allowed the dam to break, but his lungs protest the lack of oxygen, forcing him to pause; it’s during this break that he suddenly registers Sirius’s gobsmacked expression, his brother sitting rigidly on the bench, looking up at him like he’s never quite seen him before.
And that’s when it clicks; he stood up at some point during his impassioned rant.
The Great Hall is deathly silent, not a sound to be heard. It’s breakfast on a Monday morning, so the room is packed with students and faculty alike. But no one is eating, talking, or moving - every single person (living and dead) is gawking at him.
There’s a persistent tugging on the sleeve of his robe. Regulus allows Evan to guide him back into his seat, feeling like every drop of blood in his body has rushed upwards to gather in his cheeks, like fiery pools of magma trying to break through the surface, burning him from the inside out… it’s a pity that’s not legitimately happening, since it would put him out of his misery.
Oh Merlin, he’s going to be expelled, isn’t he?
A voice that sounds suspiciously familiar cheers, “Here, here!” lightening some of the tension.
“Sit down, Mr. Potter!” Professor McGonagall orders.
“Yes, ma’am!” Potter merrily calls back, several students chuckling at the exchange.
“Mr. Black.” She doesn’t say anything else, and her tone lacks any hint of how severely he’s going to be punished for his insubordination. Slowly lifting his head from where he’s been studying the carvings on his goblet, Regulus finds… she’s trying not to laugh at him. “I confess to having no knowledge of how strongly you feel about inter-house unity.” He shrugs, because neither did he until he got going. “While your perspective was certainly unique, though at times inaccurate, I would be remiss if I failed to acknowledge that you made some valid points.”
“Of course, of course!” Sirius responds boastfully, shaking off his stupor. “Regulus is basically a genius, you know, we’re all very proud.”
“I do know, actually, seeing as how he’s one of my students,” Professor McGonagall deadpans. “And as Ms. Black pointed out earlier, it is not against the rules to sit at other house tables, unless an organized school event is taking place.” There’s a ripple through the hall at her words, mutterings of how they didn’t know that was permitted. “The rule forbidding students from entering other houses’ Common Rooms was enacted to prevent overcrowding, but I will discuss lifting this ban with the Headmaster. I will also inquire about creating a separate space, an inter-house Common Room of sorts, to foster friendships between students in other houses.”
There’s a burst of cheering and applause at this proposal. Regulus hopes the faculty decides (at minimum) to create the inter-house lounge; if they don’t, then it’s evident his beliefs regarding the purpose of the house system weren’t far off base. Plus, it’d be nice to hang out with Pandora without having to sneak her into their dorm or vice versa… especially since Ravenclaw is obnoxiously far away from Slytherin, ugh, how could he have ever believed going to school in a giant castle would be fun?
“Now, I ask that you all return to your breakfasts, as classes will begin in half an hour.” Professor McGonagall inclines her head approvingly at the Slytherin-Blacks, before peering over her spectacles at the lone Gryffindor at their table. “It was never my intention to send you back to your house table if you weren’t causing trouble, Sirius. I was simply curious about the change in ‘status quo’ as you’ve never once appeared here prior to this morning.” Yep, she’s definitely laughing at Regulus. “But just a reminder, my door is always open should you require anything.”
“I know, Minnie, thank you,” Sirius says, and although his words sound disrespectful, it’s abundantly clear that his brother is very fond of his Head of House… the feeling must be mutual, if the exasperated eye roll and upwards quirk of her lips is anything to go by.
In a bid to avoid discussing his humiliating absence of sense, Regulus shovels a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth, keeping his eyes on his bowl. How utterly insane are Sirius and Potter for them to thrive off this sort of thing? A wave of nausea hits him at the thought of how many people were looking at him… sweet Merlin, never again.
After checking that both brothers are alright, Andromeda gives them a small smile, and then rises to her feet. Head held high, she departs the Slytherin table, but rather than leave the Great Hall as expected, she continues on towards the far side of the room. A hush falls over the hall as their peers watch her journey, the sound of Andromeda’s heeled boots clicking against the tile floor seem deafeningly loud in the silence. When she finally comes to a stop at the Hufflepuff table, there’s a sudden influx of whispers as Andromeda, the Queen of Slytherin, Prefect, and member of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, gracefully sits next to… some tall blonde guy.
“Who’s that bloke?” Sirius cranes his neck to get a better look, as the older Slytherins at their table start fervently muttering to one another. “Do we like him? He kind of looks like a tosser from here.” He turns expectantly to Regulus. “He’s a tosser, isn’t he? Come on, Reg, you can tell me the truth.”
“You see, the truth is…” Sirius leans forward excitedly, and Regulus waits a few seconds before finishing with, “I have no idea who he is.”
With a growl, Sirius chucks a grape across the table at the younger Slytherin, who smoothly catches it in his mouth, earning impressed applause from his friends.
“He’s… uh… his name is, um…” Regulus has never seen Narcissa so ruffled, and he shares a mildly panicked look with his brother. “His name is Edward Tonks, but he goes by ‘Ted’. He’s a seventh-year, a Prefect, and,” her voice becomes so quiet, Regulus has to read her lips to discern what she’s saying, “Muggle-Born.”
Oh.
Oh.
Blood status is one of the (many) hotly contested topics they’ve avoided discussing since Sirius appeared at his door several days ago, and one they chose not to talk about over the summer. Regulus knows how most of the Black family feels regarding blood purity, knows how staunchly his brother feels in opposition to their views. He’s fairly settled on his own stance, a viewpoint that has admittedly evolved after starting at Hogwarts - Regulus firmly believes there’s nothing wrong with being proud of your heritage, pure or not. But there’s also nothing wrong with befriending/procreating with people of different heritages, so long as the partnership consists of two consenting individuals. It’s not his business what anyone else does, nor is it their business what he does.
Setting aside the whole concept of disownment, would Regulus choose to marry a Muggle? Probably not… where would he even meet one to start with? How likely are they to have any common interests? Now, if Pandora fell in love with some Muggle she met while out and about, doing Pandora-things, then more power to her. Regulus better be her man-of-honor, though, or they will be having words… and by words, he means Howler after Howler until he’s confident his displeasure is understood.
It’s not an opinion he’s discussed with anyone else, nor is it one he’s willing to openly share. His brother would undoubtedly call him a coward for maintaining his silence, would demand he speak out whenever someone makes a disparaging comment about ‘Mudbloods’, or says something about how pure magical lineages are superior to all others… which is exactly why he’s never told Sirius in the first place, even though it would likely help rebuild their relationship. It all comes down to the simple fact that Regulus doesn’t have the same safeguards regarding his position in the family, not like Sirius does as heir. As the younger son, the spare, he’s at a much greater risk of being disowned if he opted to speak out against the Pureblood ideals they were raised to believe. And unlike Sirius, Regulus couldn’t handle being forsaken by the family he loves in spite of their differing viewpoints. There are too many risks involved if he chose to share his views, too many things for him to lose - at the crux of it all, selfish as it may be, Regulus likes being a Black.
“Looking forward to blasting your older sister off the Black Family Tree this holiday?” Sirius sneers at their cousin.
Regulus sighs, fighting the urge to cry at the unfairness of it all. He started all of this with his impromptu speech, meaning it’s once again his fault Sirius is in another row with a member of their family.
Narcissa taps a finger against her chin, pretending to consider the idea. “Mmm, yeah, but then she’d curse me six ways to Sunday, and I don’t really want to deal with that. I’m sure you understand.”
Evidently, Sirius does not understand. “Andie’s consorting with the ‘wrong sort’, is she not?” The blonde simply shrugs; the Great Hall isn’t the place for these types of discussions, but the heir apparent to the Black family refuses to drop it. “Oh come off it Cissa, you can’t honestly tell me you’re supportive of… whatever that is all about.”
As one, they all look over to the Hufflepuff table where Andromeda and Tonks are seated close together, giggling like they’re the only two people in the room, completely oblivious to the stares from students in all four houses.
“It’s not about whether I agree or not with what she’s doing, that’s not my concern at the moment. I’m -“ Narcissa hesitates, searching for the right words, and Regulus frowns when he sees the wetness in her eyes until she blinks it away, “I’m scared for her.”
Regulus nods, understanding what she means. Yet again, Sirius doesn’t because he’s the heir; for all his troublemaking and rebellious spirit, he’s the least likely to be disowned out of everyone (unless he essentially does it himself by choosing to leave their family, as he’s threatened before).
“Scared for her? Ha! Why? Because she’s going to taint the bloodli-” Sirius sputters when he receives a face full of pumpkin juice.
It’s hard to say who’s more stunned by her atypical emotional reaction; Sirius, who’s frantically wiping his stinging eyes with a napkin, Regulus, who’s never seen his calm, composed cousin react like that to anyone, or Narcissa, who’s gaping at Sirius like he threw pumpkin juice at her.
“Merlin, stop whining, you’re the biggest baby I’ve ever met,” Narcissa mutters, and Sirius recoils back when he sees her wand is now pointed at his face. With a quick flick of her wrist, the thrown juice vanishes without a trace, and the wand disappears back into her robe. “You clearly don’t understand a thing, Sirius Black!” She suddenly turns her attention to Regulus, who tenses at being addressed in the midst of their contentious conversation. “Regulus, if your brother was the one consorting with a Muggle-Born, or I don’t know, decided to marry and have children with someone who wasn’t a Pureblood witch,” the ‘such as a wizard’ hangs in the air, “would you blast him off the Family Tapestry if you were granted the ability?”
“No.”
He almost rolls his eyes when he sees how astonished Sirius is by his response, but Narcissa nods, because she gets it. “And why not? He’s going against every value we’ve been raised to believe is important. Shouldn’t he be removed from the tapestry and disowned after bringing such monumental shame and dishonor to our noble name?”
Again, Regulus doesn’t have to think about his answer. “Because as annoying as he is, he’s my brother, and nothing will ever change that… quite frankly, I don’t give a damn what the tapestry says about it.”
“Exactly.”
Sirius’s eyes dart between them, like he’s waiting for someone to start laughing, to say it’s a joke. Eventually, he beams, wiping away an actual tear. “Reggie, that was probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Someone plops down onto the bench next to him. “Aw, so is Baby Black only mean to me?”
Jolting at Potter’s unexpected appearance at the Slytherin table, he peers around the Chaser to see Barty’s mischievous smile, one that grows wider when Regulus scowls at his perfidious friend for betraying him in such an inexcusable way.
“Forgive me, Potter, but have I ever given you permission to speak to me?” Taking a sip of his neglected coffee, a smidgeon of Regulus’s irritation lessens the moment the sacred beverage washes over his taste buds. “If so, I would like to rescind it immediately.”
“Ah, don’t mind him, James, Reg’s not a morning person,” Sirius says before Potter can respond with something ignorant.
Potter, the overachiever, gets an ignorant comment in, regardless.
It also happens to be one that’s whispered directly into Regulus’s ear. “I found your speech earlier to be quite… stirring, Regulus.”
The Gryffindor says stirring like Narcissa’s friend said services the other day, the word laced with a darker, seedier meaning. But that’s nothing compared to the way he says Regulus’s name… the younger teen forcefully tells himself the shudder that runs through him is from disgust, it has nothing to do with the way Potter’s warm breath ghosts across the shell of his ear.
When Potter finally moves out of his personal space, he looks entirely too smug for Regulus’s liking.
Refusing to be one-upped, he casually places his hand on the Gryffindor’s thigh and locks their eyes together. “I did blow a lot of minds just now, didn’t I?” Raising his hand back up, he then slowly lowers it… pat, pat, pat.
“Who knew Regulus Black could be so provocative?” Potter teases with a smirk, his leg drifting closer. “I dare say you were well on your way to inciting a riot.”
“It’s no surprise to those who actually know me,” Regulus replies with fake confidence. “You see, I tend to have a rather… rousing effect on people when I speak.” Fingers curling together, he lightly squeezes the sinewy leg underneath his hand, amused when he feels a muscle twitch. “Benefit of being quiet, I guess. As such, you have my deepest condolences.”
Potter raises an eyebrow, and if Regulus is reading his body language correctly, he’s having a bitch of a time maintaining his outwardly unaffected demeanor (something Regulus understands, because dear Merlin, how can someone’s legs get so ripped from flying on a broom?! Unless the muscles are from some other activity? And if so, what precisely?) “Whatever for?”
“Because it means you’re not special, James.”
Potter’s lips part when Regulus says his name, his speechlessness making the entire stress-inducing stunt worth it. Proud of himself for winning, again, Regulus is in the process of removing his hand from its perch on the aforementioned glorious quadriceps, when the Gryffindor abruptly laces their fingers together. Peering at him through dark hooded eyes, Potter’s gaze lowers until it rests solely on Regulus’s lips.
He forgets how to breathe.
“You’re right,” Potter agrees in a soft, velvety voice. A thumb gently caresses the top of Regulus’s hand, the intimate touch sending shivers down his spine. “You’re the special one, love.”
Retreat, retreat! his mind screams in panic.
Ripping his hand out of Potter’s grip, Regulus all but climbs on top of Evan in his haste to get away, willing his blush to die down before anyone notices. His affection for his friend triples when Evan scoots down the bench in the opposite direction of Potter, pulling Regulus along with him, all while glaring hotly at the Chaser in the process.
Sirius shoots them a strange look when Potter starts chuckling, but was fortunately too preoccupied by his stare down with Narcissa to witness their exchange.
“I’m… I apologize for being out of line earlier,” Sirius murmurs to the blonde. “But I feel the need to point out that I don’t think your eldest sister will hold the same viewpoint.”
(Apparently Mother was right all along - Sirius is an awful influence on them.)
Narcissa shamelessly flicks the Gryffindor in the forehead, wholly unmoved by his indignant squawking at the action she undoubtedly learned from Sirius himself. “And she won’t be the only one, hence being scared. Salazar, Sirius, I thought you were supposed to be intelligent?”
“You are an awful woman,” Sirius grumbles, rubbing his reddened forehead with a wince.”I’d feel bad for Lucy, but the bloke’s done it to himself, really.”
Blue eyes narrow at the jibe, but they’re both distracted when a new voice asks if they could pass the strawberry jam; Narcissa slides it to the person next to her without looking away from Sirius.
“Thanks, Black,” a feminine voice chirps.
Narcissa startles and whirls around, which is when Regulus realizes who precisely is next to her - Lily Evans, Gryffindor Muggle-Born and love of James Potter’s life. She’s sitting with Severus Snape, Sirius’s mortal enemy, and wow, Regulus genuinely regrets not ditching class like his brother suggested earlier.
Tensions between their eclectic group rise tenfold when Narcissa wipes her hand on her napkin, nose scrunched up like she’s disgusted to have touched someone with tainted blood. Sirius and Potter both look nearly apoplectic at the perceived insult, and while Regulus prefers to avoid taking sides, even he winces internally at his cousin’s harsh reaction.
Narcissa clicks her tongue. “Evans, please explain what exactly you are doing here?”
Sirius angrily opens his mouth, but he closes it with a confused murmur when the back of Narcissa’s wiped hand is suddenly pressed to Evans’s forehead.
“I’m eating breakfast, clearly,” the redhead says with a roll of her eyes, her lips quirked up in the corners.
The hand moves to the girl’s freckled cheeks. “Well, you should be in bed.”
“I’ll have you know, Madam Pomfrey cleared me yesterday afternoon after Sev whipped up a perfect batch of Pepper-Up on Friday.” The Gryffindor’s smile turns sly. “Or are you suggesting our lovely matron doesn’t know what she’s doing?”
“She’s been known to let students off rather easily sometimes, in my opinion,” Narcissa tuts, dropping her hand back down. She nods approvingly at Severus, who seems equally flummoxed by the exchange. “Your fever has finally broken… I do hope you thanked Severus for his invaluable assistance.”
“Rest assured, I do have manners, Mother, you raised me well,” Evans teases, and Narcissa shocks them further by playfully shoving the younger girl’s shoulder.
Potter is the first to find his voice. “You… you two know each other?”
“No, no, no!” Sirius cries, scooting closer to the girls. “More importantly, who are these students who are let off easily from the Hospital Wing? And what’s their secret?”
It’s a question Regulus is eager to hear the answer to, because Merlin knows it isn’t him. But then another relevant matter crosses his mind.
“Shouldn’t you know who your own girlfriend is friends with?” Regulus snaps back, feeling an ugly sense of shame and bitterness claw through his insides at the reminder that Potter has a significant other, a girl, no less.
Oh, Merlin, he kissed this girl’s boyfriend… on the cheek, but still. In all likelihood, Potter probably never told her, which is sketchy, and actually makes Regulus feel even worse.
“My what -"
Even if Potter did fancy boys, why would he lower himself to the likes of you?
“What a negligent boyfriend you are, Potter, I’m genuinely embarrassed for you.”
That’s when Regulus learns several things all at once; one, Narcissa and Lily Evans have been in Madam Pomfrey’s Magical Healing class together since the previous year; two, Potter and Evans are not dating and never were; three, Potter has completely ‘moved on’ after accepting Evans doesn’t like him; four, if Regulus ever again suggests that she’s dating Potter, Evans will hex his hair off; five, Sirius and Evans bicker in a very similar manner to the way Sirius and Narcissa bicker, that being, non-stop; and six, Narcissa and Lily Evans ganging up on Sirius is epic.
Notes:
I have to go back to work on Monday after more than a week off, so here's another chapter since I soon won't have as much free time to edit :(
Chapter Text
Sirius continued sleeping in Regulus’s dorm, only leaving for class and meals, Potter flitting between the two house tables like a child of divorce. For the most part, his brother seemed content with this new normal, though Regulus occasionally caught him staring forlornly at his ex-mate, still torn up over their quarrel. Ironically, it was Regulus himself who suffered the most with this change in status quo, forced to endure James Potter’s presence at the Slytherin table for almost every meal. In a desperate attempt to spare his sanity, Regulus spent much of the week ‘accidentally’ losing track of time, figuring he could always grovel for food in the kitchens if he got hungry. Except… he never needed to beg Pipsy for so much as a snack; his brother hunted him down and dragged him to the Great Hall regardless of how brilliant his hiding place was. Honestly, the whole thing was exceptionally unnerving. Regulus even found a promising spell that supposedly removed any surreptitious tracking charms Sirius may have placed on him, but his brother still found him.
The castle was huge - was Regulus that predictable?
To be fair, it wasn’t as if Potter went out of his way to tease Regulus, not like that initial breakfast when they went back and forth with their… it wasn’t flirting, as much as he might have wished it to be… when they went back and forth with their playful bickering. But for much of the meal, Regulus can feel Potter’s eyes on him, which makes him annoyingly self-conscious. He wants to say something, but confrontation is ick, plus he runs the risk of bringing it to Sirius’s attention. Who knows how his chaotic brother would react to something like that? Regulus can't handle another humiliating experience for the next ten years, sorry.
Unfortunately, Potter excels at causing a scene wherever he goes; the Chaser has started greeting Regulus whenever they pass each other in the halls, even when he’s with just Lupin, like they’re now friends or something (they are not, and Regulus will remind Barty of this every single time his actual friend ribs him for ‘fraternizing with the enemy’). But their peers have noticed this change as well. Every time Potter says, “Hey, Regulus,” and waves at him with that stupid charming smile of his… which seems to happen several times a day, though Regulus doesn’t remember passing the fifth-year Gryffindors this often during the first week of term… the corridor fills with whispers, the obnoxious stares of the gossip-mongers fixating on Regulus until he’s out of their line of sight. Fortunately, his friends are divine; Evan and Barty picked up on the unwanted attention fairly quickly, so after a few unlucky sods received an array of hexes for their shamelessness, the majority of their peers are now subtler in their ogling.
All in all, Sirius bunking in Slytherin was surprisingly not the worst thing in the world.
Then, Thursday comes around, and whatever ‘good fortune’ Regulus thought he had going for him, didn't come with it.
Because Sirius naturally wakes up freakishly early in the morning, Regulus hasn’t needed to utilize the services of his alarm clock this week. But this morning was different, as Sirius had an ‘appointment’ with Potter prior to the start of breakfast. Before leaving the dorm, Sirius gently shook his younger brother awake; Regulus made a show of sitting up and yawning widely, acting the part… the moment Sirius departed for what’s likely a childish prank on some unsuspecting soul, he flipped over and tugged the comforter over his head, rejoicing in the chance to sleep-in for as long as possible.
What Regulus’s sleepy brain didn’t consider was this - his first lesson of the day is Arithmancy, a class located on the seventh floor of the castle, and he doesn’t have an alarm set. Great fucking going, huh? He also can’t fault his friends for letting him sleep too long. Evan and Barty prefer to take their time eating breakfast, while Regulus is perfectly content with scarfing his food and chugging his coffee in five minutes, if it meant an extra twenty minutes of sleep; meaning, he’s always still cocooned in the warmth of his bed when they leave for the Great Hall in the morning.
Thanks to Wrath batting his nose with her paw, bless her, his situation isn’t hopeless, but it’s dire enough that he swears in three different languages when a grumbled Tempus Charm reveals the current time. Flinging himself out of bed, Regulus rushes around the room to get ready, haphazardly throwing his books into his bag and shrugging on the first pair of robes he finds (which are looser than usual, fuck, is he losing weight again without noticing?). He doesn’t need a mirror to know his hair is a mess; wetting his hands in the water pitcher on his bedside table, he smooths his curly, untamed locks down the best he can, opting to borrow one of Sirius’s hair ties when he senses it’s not working the way he intended.
Professor Vector frowns when Regulus slinks in mid-lecture, leaving him feeling admonished without her needing to say a word. It’s so fucking illogical, too, he knows he’s being ridiculous. Other students are late for class all the time, nor did his tardiness cost Slytherin any house points. And yet, a single displeased glance from one of his favorite teachers, combined with the mutters from his classmates, causes a sinking sensation to form in the pit of his stomach. Regulus tells himself it’s a result of missing breakfast and the subsequent lack of caffeine, but Merlin, self-awareness is so cumbersome, isn’t it? Truthfully, he’d have been better off ditching class entirely, seeing as how he paid absolutely zero attention to the lesson, too busy alternating between feeling guilty over how irresponsible it was to be late after Sirius was kind enough to wake him up, and berating himself for how pathetic he was to be upset over something as trivial as disappointing his teacher.
Sadly, Regulus’s day steadily got worse from there.
Halfway back to the dungeons for Double Potions, he noticed the red and gold lining his robes (a quick glance down confirmed the lion crest on his breast pocket, though his tie wasn’t altered considering he forgot it back in his room, sigh). He initially assumed some idiot classmate thought it was a grand practical joke… but every attempt to fix it failed. So intensely focused on the task he’s trying to complete while maintaining a brisk pace to the opposite side of the castle (again), Regulus doesn’t notice the Ravenclaw stomping towards him until she stops directly in his path.
He shifts to side-step around her, but she purposefully moves to block his way forward. Annoyed, Regulus lifts his head to get a better look at her. Vaguely recognizing her as someone from one of Narcissa’s study groups, for the life of him, Regulus can’t recall her name. She’s pretty, he supposes, with her long brunette hair, freckled cheeks, and light blue eyes… that are narrowed at him in a fierce glare.
Opening his mouth to politely ask her to get the fuck out of his way, the words are never spoken because, without preamble, she slaps him hard across the cheek.
“Now, that got your attention, didn’t it!” she shrieks, placing both hands on her hips, while a dumbfounded Regulus holds his stinging cheek. He doesn’t even know this girl, what the bloody hell! “How DARE you not write to me all summer after the intense connection we had last year. And then you have the audacity to avoid me once we come back to school? I don’t know who you think I am, but I won’t tolerate being treated that way! My friends kept telling me I shouldn’t bother with you because you were a two-timing manwhore, and clearly, I should have listened.”
“WHAT?!”
Other students have gathered around them to watch the altercation, but Regulus doesn’t look away from the seething girl, wary she’ll pull her wand on him if he glances away… hell, she’ll probably pull her wand on him regardless, because she’s obviously INSANE.
“Of course, my sister said you must be too dense to realize what you’re missing out on, so let me give you a refresher course.”
“What -”
Ignoring his stammered questions, the brunette grabs him by the front of the robes, yanking him closer to slam her lips against his, an action that causes their teeth to clack together. As if it wasn’t already bad enough, she then jams her tongue into his mouth, kissing him with such vigor that she succeeds in taking his breath away… except not in a good way. Thankfully, it’s over before Regulus can decide whether he should kiss her back or not (he likely wouldn’t, but it’d have been nice to be able to choose!)
When she finally releases him, he’s tentatively relieved to see that she looks smug. He can’t fathom what she must be interpreting from his shell-shocked expression - hard to predict how delusional people think, unfortunately.
The Ravenclaw whirls on her heel to strut back down the hallway, her braid smacking Regulus in the face. “See you around, Sirius.”
… WHAT?!
Merlin, what was his brother thinking when he ‘befriended’ this girl? Surely, there were better (less insane) girls to spend time with?
Wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his robe, Regulus counts to thirty in his head, ensuring she’s a good distance away before continuing his trek to the dungeons. Well aware of how fast gossip spreads at Hogwarts, he irritably wonders if anyone noticed she had the wrong brother; given the intelligence of his peers, he’s not optimistic about it, though he concedes it’s probably best if his name… his actual name… is kept out of this.
“Reg, I know Pandora said the Muggles dress up in costumes for Halloween,” Barty smirks when Regulus takes his place between his two friends in the back of the Potions classroom, slipping in right as Professor Slughorn was closing the door. “But I hate to tell you this, mate… you’re more than a month early.”
Evan raises an eyebrow at his red and gold attire, now accessorized with a matching reddened cheek. “Kinda weird to dress up as your brother, don’t ya think? Your costume is pretty spot on, though, I’ll give you that. When you first walked in, I had to do a double-take.”
“Aw, what’s wrong, Evan?” Regulus exaggeratedly flutters his eyelashes. “Are you falling in love with me now?”
Barty laughs so loudly that the Gryffindors at the table in front of theirs startle at the sound, and one of the bravers ones turns around to shush them. Evan lightly smacks Regulus’s arm in retaliation, but he can’t hide his pink cheeks quick enough.
After class, Regulus intended to dash down the hall to the Slytherin Common Room to change into his own robes. Leave it to Sirius to charm his clothing so no one else could change anything on it… Regulus hates that it actually makes sense. Sirius (and his friends) are known pranksters who have undoubtedly charmed other people’s clothing, so of course the paranoid one of the bunch would find a defense against someone doing the same to him. But considering how his day has gone up until this point, Regulus shouldn’t be surprised when Professor Slughorn holds him back after class. The potion for this lesson was a review, so Regulus is confident he did well on it. Fuck, has he finally realized Sirius has been staying in the Slytherin dorms for nearly a week now?
In reality, the conversation is one he’d never have predicted.
Outside of his teaching duties, their Potions professor organizes his own hand-picked social club, composed of his ‘top students’... aka, anyone who is particularly intelligent, talented, charming, or well-connected. Naturally, every member of the Black family has been included in the ‘Slug Club’ since its founding, but surprise surprise, guess which one refuses to show up? Hell, even Potter made a few appearances towards the later half of last year, one of the few instances where Regulus has seen him without Sirius or Lupin by his side.
Now that Sirius and Regulus are ‘on better terms, like two brothers from noble families should be’, Professor Slughorn requested the younger bring his sibling to the upcoming mixer in a few weeks. Regulus insists he’ll try his best, but he reiterates what everyone should know by now - Sirius is stubborn, and when his mind is made up, no one will sway him. Slughorn laughs jovially at this, like Regulus told a deeply amusing joke, and waves him out of the classroom with a parting remark to not underestimate his ‘persuasive abilities‘.
The conversation consumes enough time that Regulus has to hurry to lunch if he wants to eat before this evening, which he very much does. After skipping breakfast and his mandatory two cups (minimum) of coffee, he accepts he’ll be wearing Sirius’s robes for the remainder of the day. Besides, he has questions, so many questions, and his brother is the only one with the answers.
It’s a relief to make it to the Entrance Hall without further drama… but not two seconds after the thought crosses his mind, someone grabs his arm, spinning him around.
“I saw you, ya know,” Potter scowls, unbothered by the wand pointed directly at his face. “In the hallway this morning.”
With a roll of his eyes, Regulus slips his wand back into his sleeve. “Congratulations. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a carafe calling my name -”
“They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” Potter continues fiercely, his hand still clasped around Regulus’s forearm. “But personally, I think it’s kind of pathetic how you’re trying to copy Sirius.”
There are SO many things wrong with that statement, Regulus isn’t even sure where to begin… he also regrets putting his wand away, because if Potter keeps speaking to him in such a manner, he’ll assuredly need it.
“Copying my brother, am I?” Regulus echoes, gazing fixedly at Potter without blinking.
He represses his smirk when Potter starts to look unnerved by the endless staring. “Yeah, that’s what you’re doing… dressing up so everyone thinks you’re Sirius, and then snogging his ex-girlfriends!”
What?!
Merlin, he should have stayed in bed today.
“Dressing up like Sirius to snog his ex-girlfriends, am I?”
“Yes…” Potter’s eyes narrow behind his glasses. “Are you just repeating everything I say?”
Regulus rips his arm out of the Chaser’s grasp. “I was hoping if you hear it back, you’ll realize how utterly idiotic you sound.” He steps around the Gryffindor, continuing towards the Great Hall. “It appears I set my expectations too high.”
Potter rushes after him. “Yeah, well… we’ll see what Sirius has to say about it!”
They continue their bickering on the way to the Slytherin table where Sirius is already seated with Regulus’s friends. The Black heir is the first to notice their approach… he takes one look at his brother and bursts into guffaws.
“Overslept, did you?” Sirius asks, wiping a few stray tears from his eyes.
“It’s not funny!” Regulus hisses, shoving himself between Evan and Sirius so Potter is forced to sit across from him, next to Barty. “Wrath is an angel, but other than her blessed presence, today has been hell, I’m serious.”
His inadvertent oversight only makes his brother laugh harder. “You… you’re very S-Sirius indeed.” He lightly tugs on Regulus’s tied-back hair. “Godric, Reg, I’ve never seen the resemblance until now, but you look exactly like me when I was your age.”
‘When I was your age’... meaning last year? How pretentious!
“Merlin, I hate you,” Regulus groans, stealing a meticulously-buttered roll off Sirius’s plate. “Some Ravenclaw girl accosted me in the hallway thinking I was you.”
Potter blinks rapidly, hopefully (finally) realizing how fucking wrong he was with his assumption.
Sirius winces, and as a peace offering, pours Regulus’s coffee for him, preparing it exactly the way he likes it. “Ah… heard some rumors about that, but was very confused considering I knew I wasn’t in that corridor today. Sorry about her, I’ll tell you the story later. It’s a doozy.”
Regulus snorts - he’d expect nothing less from his chaotic brother. “Fix my robes, please? I know you can do it.”
“Ah, ah, ah.” Sirius wags his finger in the younger’s face. “Actions have consequences, Reggie. I told you to get up, otherwise you’d be late for class… but did you? No, you did not. So, you get to deal with being fourteen-year-old me for the day.”
Potter clears his throat, but he’s ignored, the Blacks fully absorbed in their sibling-staredown. Regulus is seconds away from emerging victorious when Potter ‘accidentally’ smacks his hand on the table, startling half the students around him, the brothers included. “So, Regulus. Just curious, but was Eleanor your first kiss?” He laughs uneasily when Regulus stares blankly at him in response. “Would be… uh, regrettable, if she stole it from you, ya know? I had the misfortune of witnessing that, and heh, yikes…”
“Pardon me, but why do you care who Regulus’s first kiss was, Potter?” Barty asks with a shit-eating grin.
Sirius pauses in the middle of scooping a generous (translation - ridiculously large) spoonful of roasted vegetables onto his brother’s plate, his eyes widening. “Oh Merlin, please tell me she wasn’t, Reg.”
Regulus takes a huge bite of his bacon sandwich to avoid answering, though he needn’t have bothered, because Evan shocks the Gryffindors into silence.
“It was me,” he boasts proudly, pressing a kiss to Regulus’s cheek with an obnoxious ‘mwah’. “Regulus and I were each other’s firsts.”
Potter starts choking on his food, apparently missing the lesson on how to eat like a civilized person when he was a child. Barty pounds him on the back with one hand, using the other to continue eating his lunch, while Evan nudges a water pitcher his way with a look of boredom. But Potter’s fight for survival isn’t important enough to distract Regulus from waging war against the hypocrisy he’s faced his entire life.
“Oh, so you can snog your mates without problem, huh?!” Regulus growls, glaring at his brother. “But when I do it, it’s an issue?”
Sirius holds his hands up defensively. “As these gentlemen can attest, I did not say anything.”
“Maybe not out loud, but your face did!”
“Oh, so my face told you I had an issue with you snogging your best mate, is that it?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly -“ the Slytherin falters, recognizing the tactic his brother is using.
With a hum, Sirius slides Regulus’s plate back to him, only now with enough food for three people. “For the record, if my face did say something, it would be that Barty is a terrible influence on our dear, innocent Evan.”
“Too right you are,” Barty agrees with a wink.
Glancing up, he’s about to ask his brother if he legitimately believes Regulus can eat all of this in one sitting, only to find Sirius peering suspiciously at him. “Unless it’s you who’s the terrible influence on poor, sweet Evan?” The dubious gaze moves back to Barty. “Or perhaps you’re the terrible influence on both my surrogate brother and my actual brother, hm?” He misinterprets Evan’s wince. “Oopsie, I guess it’s probably weird for me to refer to you as my surrogate brother when you’re out here smooching my blood brother…” That only causes Barty to laugh even harder, who at some point over the last week, picked up on Evan’s secret idolizing of Sirius.
“Maybe I’m the one who’s a terrible influence,” Evan huffs.
Sirius rolls his eyes. “If you say so, pal.”
Potter’s face is an unattractive shade of red, but he apparently swallowed whatever was lodged in his throat. Pity. “Aren’t you related to Rosier, Regulus?”
“Aren’t you and Sirius related, Potter?” Regulus immediately snaps back.
“Oooh,” Barty jeers, looking back-and-forth between the two Gryffindors. Sirius half-heartedly chucks his rolled up napkin at him, missing the Slytherin and hitting Potter instead. “How scandalous.”
Merlin, Regulus desperately needs to regain control of this conversation before it goes somewhere even more uncomfortable than where they’re at now. “For your information, Potter, since you clearly refuse to accept that my life is absolutely none of your business, Evan and I found ourselves stuck together under a particularly persistent branch of mistletoe last year. According to its magical calculations, we aren’t close enough in relation for it to free us without remittance, hence the kiss.” And after that instance, if they discreetly snog each other whenever the mood strikes… well, no one needs to know that, Potter, Barty, and Sirius included.
“Aww, poor Reggie, couldn’t devise a counterspell, so he had to kiss his mate?” Potter grins smugly across the table. “I figured one out in under five minutes.”
Leave it to James Potter to think he’s the only intelligent person in this god forsaken castle.
Smothering his rage down, something he’s all but mastered in his fourteen years, Regulus pours himself another cup of coffee. “Evan is lovely, so why would I go through the trouble of a counterspell? Of course, if I’d gotten stuck with someone completely dreadful,” he looks Potter directly in the eye, hoping the ‘like you ’ is implied, “then that would be a different story now, wouldn’t it?”
Sirius sighs wistfully. “A great prank that was! Only wish we had thought of it first.”
As one, their group looks over at the Gryffindor table where Gideon and Fabian Prewett sit. Somehow sensing several pairs of eyes on them, the seventh-year twins glance up, waving excitedly when they see who’s staring at them.
Potter turns back to Regulus with a raised eyebrow. “Is Gideon… blowing you a kiss?”
“No,” Regulus answers, smirking at the older boy’s glare. “Fabian is blowing me a kiss.” Although he normally just rolls his eyes at their antics, Regulus embraces the opportunity to send back a kiss of his own. Fabian catches the kiss and then pretends to faint, triggering Gideon to use his napkin to fan his ‘unconscious’ brother. “Really, Potter, shouldn’t you be able to tell your other two Chasers apart after years of playing together?”
Sirius nudges Regulus’s plate even closer. “Less talking, more eating… and in James’s defense, I still have no idea how you tell them apart.”
Regulus tries to explain, once again, that it’s not about looks, but rather, personality; Fabian is the more outgoing one, whereas Gideon is more observant, but Potter doesn’t allot him the chance. “I didn’t realize you all even knew each other, let alone were friendly.”
That’s because you and I are not friends, Potter, Regulus grumbles in his head. Sirius glares pointedly at him, silently warning him not to say what’s on his mind.
“They’ve been friends for ages,” Evan civilly explains with a shrug. “Met a while ago at one of those Ministry events most of us were dragged to as kids, right?”
He bites back a scoff at Evan’s phrasing. Madam Rosier loathes those events almost as much as Regulus himself does. To his immense jealousy, she’ll gather her children together before an upcoming event to plot ways to avoid going, meaning her extroverted husband, along with Evan’s introverted best friend, attend alone; for the ones they ‘can’t’ miss, they’ll go for the shortest time socially acceptable.
The friendship between Regulus and the Prewett twins emerged prior to their enrollment at Hogwarts; he’s actually been friends with them for twice as long as Sirius and Potter have known each other. For Regulus’s entire life, their parents have dragged them to political events, luncheons, and societal galas, anywhere ‘respectable’ Purebloods should be seen. And while he understands their point of view, it doesn’t change the fact that Regulus is the type of person who would rather observe than be noticed. He thinks he was about five when he started noticing how the twins disappeared for the majority of these events, how they’d reappear near the end, acting like they’d been present the whole time whenever their parents complained they’d been looking everywhere for them. Child-Regulus found it baffling!
He couldn’t say what possessed him to follow the twins during a holiday party at Malfoy Manor… wait, yes he can; that particular party was hosted a mere week after his recovery from what was likely the worst illness Regulus ever experienced (which doesn’t sound like much considering he was six at the time, but by then, he’d been close to death so many times, he’d lost count). It wasn’t even Regulus who was the problem, he felt fine… more than fine really, which was weird, but a nice change of pace. But his family? They’d been… off, there was no other word to describe it. His grandparents watched him openly, like they expected him to disappear, drop dead, or commit a crime if they took their eyes off of him. Other Black relatives kept coming up to talk to him for no discernible reason, his cousins in particular lingering close by, rather than going off with their friends like they normally did And all of that may have been tolerable if Sirius hadn’t been so unbearably clingy and unsettled, asking again and again and again if he felt alright, if he wanted to go sit down, if he wanted to eat, or maybe get some fresh air, here, drink some water, Reggie, you need to stay hydrated, you don’t want to get sick again, right?
A temporary reprieve from the harping came when Frank Longbottom struck up a conversation with Sirius, so when Regulus then happened to spot the twins slipping out of the ballroom, he acted without conscious thought. Stepping into the shadows, he took advantage of his short stature to follow their lead, doing something so recklessly impulsive that Sirius should have applauded him for it (he did not). Yet as his luck would have it, when Regulus approached the secluded alcove he thought he saw them duck into, Gideon stepped out from the nook to meet him, while Fabian leapt out from behind him. Trapped between the two, the twins proceeded to accuse him of trying to get them in trouble, Regulus stammering out denial after denial, terrified the older boys were about to harm him. Eventually, he blurted out that he followed them because he wanted to hide away from the party too. Normally, as the ‘spare’ brother, Regulus was ignored by adults following their initial greetings (which he was grateful for), but today was its own sort of hell, the attention relentless, both from adults and his brother. Not to mention, events like these were always loud and crowded, overstimulating his senses; it would take Regulus days to recover from the magnitude of it all, something that had nothing to do with his history of illness. He didn’t say all of that verbatim, but he thinks the twins understood, since they stepped aside, allowing him to tuck himself away from the rest of the world until the end of the night.
Funnily enough, it was actually that party at Malfoy Manor when Regulus first started wondering if Sirius possessed some sort of built-in Regulus detector, the older boy successfully sniffing out his location not ten minutes after his ‘disappearance’. Despite hardly knowing him, the twins declared they’d watch over Regulus whenever he was with them, so Sirius needn’t fret (they’d soon learn their assurance was a poor choice of words - Sirius always fretted). As the oldest and heir to the family, Sirius wasn’t able to disappear for any length of time without notice, but he understood and accepted Regulus’s aversion to social events. He agreed to make excuses for his brother, if certain conditions were met; one, Regulus informed him of their hiding spot prior to wandering off (Regulus had to bite his tongue to keep from pointing out that his brother clearly didn’t need any help when it came to finding him), and two, they let Sirius hide out with them when he required a break from the festivities.
During the time they spent together, Regulus was perfectly content to read the book he snuck into the event, or sit there in silence, but just like Sirius, the twins were much less comfortable in the quiet. They started chatting with him, small-talk at first, because Regulus wasn’t the loquacious type until he really knew someone. And while they were respectful of his introverted tendencies, they were also persistent, their conversations becoming more in-depth and less one-sided (if the twins were counted as ‘one’) as Regulus warmed to them.
Regulus wouldn’t say he was best friends with the twins or anything, but they’ve been a steady presence in his life for years now.
“They’re a bit obsessed with Regulus, to tell you the truth,” Barty mentions offhandedly. Regulus feels the hair on the back of his neck rise, his senses screaming that his best friend is up to no good. “They exchange gifts at Christmas and on birthdays, but the twins also buy him loads of stuff on Valentine’s Day. They really spoil him rotten, Ev and I are kinda jealous.” He turns to Potter, his tone no longer the carefree one it was before. “You see, we don’t like sharing Regulus with anyone.”
Yep… saw that coming.
Potter’s eyes widened behind his glasses. “Uhh… that’s uh… understandable.”
“I did not know that last part, Regulus,” Sirius remarks earnestly. “The Valentine’s Day, spoiling you rotten part, I mean. Something you wanna confess to, baby bro?”
Regulus sighs. “It’s not like that, Sirius.”
Although he lacks experience in this department, Regulus would wager gifting someone an enormous book titled, ‘A Spinster’s Guide to Kneazle Breeding’ was not a romantic gesture, even if it was sent on Valentine’s Day in a basket overflowing with that person's favorite sweets (it was surprisingly an excellent read, and the collection of Muggle vampire books he received for Christmas last year were phenomenal).
“So, what’s it like, then?” Potter asks dubiously.
He falters, knowing he can’t tell the complete truth. Regulus also can’t lie either, not with Sirius’s uncanny ability to pinpoint when he’s being untruthful.
A few days after Regulus’s falling out with his brother, the twins approached him when he was alone in the library. Without hesitation, Fabian said something to the effect of, “Blood relation or not, we will never turn our backs on you, Regulus. We’re here if you need us.” The ‘unlike your actual brother ’ hung in the air, unspoken. Gideon reached out to pinch his cheek, adding, “And we’re here even if you don’t need us, pumpkin.”
Regulus settles on, “They see me as their little brother.”
Sirius’s expression darkens…
… Potter hastily changes the subject.
Notes:
Some new members in the Regulus-Black-Protection-Squad! We will see more of them in the next chapter :)
Chapter Text
Thanks to the three cups of coffee he knocked back in quick succession… oh, and finally eating for the first time that day... Regulus’s afternoon progressed significantly more smoothly than his morning (until it doesn't).
In Charms, his last class of the day, Professor Flitwick stares bewilderedly at Regulus when he enters, asking if, ‘Are you perhaps in the wrong lesson, Sirius?’, causing several students to giggle at the blunder. When the Slytherin politely corrects him, the professor apologizes with a surprised chuckle, adding that this would be an excellent opportunity for Regulus to demonstrate his mastering of the color-changing charm, a spell they learned the previous year. Knowing he won't succeed on his own robes, Regulus charms Evan’s to Ravenclaw blue, Barty’s to Hufflepuff yellow, and then reveals, to Professor Flitwick’s delight, that he can't change his own robes due to whatever protective measures Sirius placed on them.
For the second time that day, Regulus is asked to stay after class. After a lot of poking and prodding, Flitwick seems to have a solid theory regarding what spells Sirius used on the robes to ensure no one besides himself could alter them. Normally, Regulus loves learning about the pros and cons of using one charm over another to accomplish a specific goal, but it was the end of the school day - he's starving, mind, body, and soul yearning for dinner, lunch a faded memory of long ago. Fortunately, Flitwick soon notices the time, and after Regulus… again… promises to deliver a message to his brother (that Sirius’s presence was expected during Flitwick’s office hours tomorrow), he's granted leave.
Caught up in a daydream of what he’ll find for dinner down in the Great Hall, Regulus doesn’t notice he’s being followed until it’s too late, stupid, stupid, stupid, you know better than to zone out like that when you're alone, you've gotten too complacent this year. A body roughly slams into him, sending him flying through the open door of an unused classroom he was passing. Regulus crashes onto the stone floor, landing awkwardly on his shoulder, but he quickly regains his footing, his stint of the Quidditch team allowing him to ignore the pain radiating down his left arm.
“Incarcerous!” a blessedly unfamiliar voice shouts before he can free his wand from its holster.
Ropes appear out of thin air to wrap tightly around him, pinning his arms to his side, and tying his legs together. He manages to stay upright, but one slight move will have him on his arse for sure.
A tall blonde boy emerges from the shadows, wand held aloft. To Regulus’s horror, his robes bear the badger emblem of Hufflepuff. Braced for an impending curse - though why this Hufflepuff has a grudge against him, he has no idea - nothing comes. When the boy flicks his wrist, the classroom door slams shut, and with another swish, the torches burn brightly, providing much needed light to see his surroundings.
Five older boys stand in front of him - three Hufflepuffs, two Ravenclaws, all unfamiliar, thank Merlin, he isn't here. Out of his peripheral vision, Regulus realizes the sixth guy, the one that knocked him into the room, is the Beater that plays alongside Sirius, the newly minted Gryffindor Quidditch Captain… McDonald… McLaughton… no, McKinnon? That sounds about right.
“Not so tough without your little friends by your side, are you, Black?”
“You’ll find I’m plenty tough on my own,” the Slytherin hisses, scowling at the sneering Ravenclaw across from him.
Maintaining a cold exterior is easy, even in situations like this where he’s panicking on the inside - because when is Regulus not panicking on this inside, at least a little bit? Thank you, anxiety! Besides, if he’s going to get cursed and/or beaten up, the least he can do is hold onto his dignity. Struggling in his binds, Regulus tries to force his wand to slip from the sleeve of his robe… but then a different wand tip is pressed into the back of his neck. He stops moving, understanding the silent warning.
“We aren’t here to fight,” maybe-McKinnon says… ironic, given the wand he’s holding against Regulus’s skin. “But to make a request.”
“Stay away from our girlfriends!” the shortest boy of the group shrieks, another Hufflepuff. His companions nod fervently.
Merlin and Morgana, this again?!
Regulus isn’t sure if he wants to laugh or cry, because seriously? He knew Hogwarts was home to a good number of idiots, but this is unprecedented.
“And our sisters,” the Beater behind him adds as an afterthought. “Specifically, my sister.”
“Sure thing,” Regulus agrees, mimicking his brother’s haughty drawl. As cumbersome as this situation is, it’s probably a good thing they nabbed the wrong Black brother - Sirius would not react well to such an ambush, especially since he’s assuredly not doing anything untoward with their girlfriends, sisters, or any other witch these dregs might know. His overdramatic revenge would be merciless, regardless of the severe consequences he might face as a result, and Regulus can’t handle additional drama on top of everything else currently going on. “Now, if you’ll be so kind as to free me, I’d like to get on with my day.”
The reedy Hufflepuff who first spoke bristles at his dismissive attitude. “He doesn’t take us seriously, does he, lads?”
“Oh, but on the contrary.” Regulus’s lips easily replicate Sirius’s infamous smirk. There must be some sort of enchantment embedded in these Gryffindor robes that draws out the reckless side he secretly possesses, one he’s usually successful in suppressing. “You see lads, I take everything very Sirius-ly.”
Probably-McKinnon snorts in amusement, though the others don’t appreciate Regulus’s quip, at least if their outraged muttering is anything to go by. The five, sans the lone Gryffindor, form a huddle near the door, and after a discussion that’s too soft for Regulus to overhear, the blonde Hufflepuff (who appears to be the leader) straightens up.
“Consider this a warning, or better yet, a taste of what’s to come if you don’t do what we asked, Black,” he declares ominously, walking behind Regulus. “Girls only want to get with you because you’re good looking… and what attribute do they always mention first?”
“Hmm, honestly, it’s hard to say,” the Slytherin muses. His self-preservation instincts scream at him to shut up, he knows he should stop talking if he wants to get out of this relatively unscathed, but there’s something about this brash Hufflepuff that really fucking gets under his skin, “considering everything about me is handsome.” He frowns in faux-sympathy. “Aww, my apologies, I forgot that none of you can relate. I mean, jeez, it’s obvious why your girlfriends can’t get enough of me, considering you lot have the type of face only a blind mother could love.”
Four sets of hands forcefully grab onto him, a ridiculous reaction considering the ropes holding him in place.
“It’s your long hair!” a nasally voice pipes out, and that’s when his brain catches up to what’s about to happen.
Renewing his frantic bid to free himself, Regulus snarls, “Touch my hair, and you’re fucking dead… let me go!!!”
Likely-McKinnon attempts to convince the group to ‘leave Sirius be’, but the two Ravenclaws release Regulus to face off against the Quidditch Captain, preventing his interference.
Regulus internally pleads for his magic to rise up in his defense, to free him, but he’s left disappointed (though unsurprised) when nothing happens. Nonverbal magic isn’t something he excels at, but regardless, Regulus has never done anything wandless, except for accidentally when he was younger. To save his own skin, his self-preservation instincts demand he confess to being the wrong Black brother, but he quickly dismisses the idea; one, his attackers would never believe him to begin with, and two, Regulus genuinely can’t count how many times his older brother purposefully took the fall for him, sparing the younger any amount of negative attention. He never risked anything to defend his brother, even when they got along, so maybe this is his chance to start paying Sirius back.
“You’re making a massive fucking mistake, Smith,” the Beater yells from farther back in the room. “Seriously, mate, trust me when I say you do NOT want to do what you’re planning.”
Glancing over his shoulder, Regulus watches the Gryffindor rapidly fling curse after curse at the Ravenclaws. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to be making much headway, his opponents possessing some degree of skill, but mostly, they’re content to defend rather than launch a counter-attack.
“Better stop squirming, Black, unless you want me to accidentally slice your neck,” Smith taunts. “Would be a shame if you bled out here, huh? Such a tragic loss, I bet your Mummy would be so sad… or perhaps not.”
Regulus twists as much as he possibly can to look Smith directly in the eye. “Smith, if you disfigure me in any way, temporary or not, you will rue this day for the rest of your pathetic existence. Every time you close your eyes, you will see my face behind your eyelids. If you manage to sleep, I will haunt your dreams and your nightmares, torturing you in every way known to Muggle and Wizard alike. When you wake, you will see me out of the corner of your eye, watching you, following you, I will be a part of every facet of your life from this day forward, and on that glorious day when you take your final breath, my presence will follow you to the afterlife, I swear it on my family name. Test me if you wish, but it’ll be on your head.”
The other two Hufflepuff boys look visibly unnerved, both glancing to their leader for direction.
“HA! Is that so, Black?” Smith postures, puffing his chest out. “You think you’re so clever with your little speech, but was it you who got the better of me?” He leans forward, getting uncomfortably close to Regulus’s face. “Or was it me who got the better of you?”
Knowing it’s futile to point out that it was actually McKinnon who got the better of him, Regulus merely says, “Choose wisely.”
“I’ll take my chances, Black.” Using Regulus’s bun to yank his head backwards, the Hufflepuff gleefully calls out, “And look, you even made it easy for us! Diffindo!”
He’s bluffing, he wouldn’t cut your hair, Regulus tells himself. He thinks you’re Sirius. No one messes with Sirius Black, but if they did, they’d never go for his hair, that would be suicide. He’s bluffing.
It’s only wishful thinking; Regulus senses the lightness on the back of his head the second after Smith shouted the spell. Then, as further proof of Smith’s idiocy, the clump of silky hair is tossed onto the ground directly in front of him.
Regulus’s vision hones in on it… all he can do is stare. The longer he looks at his hair on the ground, where it should not be, the more the world around him starts to blur, first at the edges, and then everything else fades away entirely, until the bundle of hair is the only thing Regulus can see.
It’s just hair, it’s just hair, it’s just hair. He hopes the more he says it, the less sickened he’ll feel. It’ll grow back, he desperately needed a trim anyways. Oh, and the revenge he now gets to craft will be ruthless to the point where even Sirius will be impressed with the outcome.
But…
Regulus can’t move passed how violated he feels, nor how fucking infuriated he is by the audaciousness of his attackers. Sure, he wasn’t their actual target, so it’s not ‘personal’. In fact, it’s worse; they were intending to do this to his older brother… who definitely isn’t doing what they accused him of, who also loves his long, luscious hair more than anything in the world and would be utterly devastated if such a thing were to happen to him (not that they'd likely succeed in cutting Sirius's hair, considering the Gryffindor Black excels at wandless, nonverbal magic, both the purposeful kind and the accidental kind)… but on the off-chance they did, the thought makes Regulus borderline feral with rage.
He crashes back to reality when the classroom door flies open with a bang!
“Now, what do we have here, Gids?” the redhead on the left asks, peering around the room through narrowed eyes.
The identical boy next to him raises an eyebrow at the scene. “Looks like six N.E.W.T. students against one fourth-year.”
Definitely-McKinnon holds a hand up. “Five… I knocked Black into the room, but I was under the impression we were only talking to him.”
Fabian inclines his head towards the Beater. “Good to know, mate. Hated to think we misread you after all these years.”
The twins share a disgruntled look.
“But still, five N.E.W.T. students against one who’s not even at O.W.L. level… doesn’t seem very fair, does it?”
“Black is in his fifth year!” Smith retorts shrilly, ruffled by the newcomers. The Prewett twins are notorious for their magical prowess, yes, but it’s also common knowledge that they adhere to a strict moral code of ethics, a code that doesn’t necessarily follow the rulebook established by Hogwarts. “Not that any of this concerns you -"
“Sirius Black is a fifth-year, yes,” Fabian interrupts, casually strolling into the room with his hands in the pocket of his robes. One of the Hufflepuff boys stupidly points his wand at him, hastily lowering it after second thought.
Gideon follows behind his brother, the first to notice the clump of hair on the floor. Bending down to pick it up, he shows it to Fabian.
“Regulus Black, on the other hand,” Gideon drops the hair back onto the ground, and then sets it on fire… it might seem cruel, but Regulus appreciates it. He absolutely does not want these louts to be able to use his hair in any potions or rituals, “is a fourth-year.”
It’s satisfying to witness the three Hufflepuffs and two Ravenclaws blanch at the news.
Fabian claps Smith on the shoulder so hard, the Hufflepuff’s knees nearly buckle. “Congratulations are in order, methinks! By assaulting their youngest member, you’ve just made yourself Undesirable Number One to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.” Pretending to be a reporter taking notes for an upcoming article, the redhead conjures a quill and piece of parchment out of thin air. “So, tell us, mate. What’s it like knowing you’re about to be the target of an ancient bloodline with a rumored, though unproven, proclivity for Dark Magic? Exciting? Thrilling? Nerve-wracking? How does it feel knowing you damned your four comrades to the same tragic fate?”
“We’re so dead,” one of the Ravenclaws squeaks, wiping his sweaty brow with his sleeve.
“N-no… no, no, I wouldn’t do anything to Regulus!” Smith stammers, rapidly shaking his head. “We only have an issue with Sirius, he’s the problem, not his brother.” Regulus isn’t sure how he feels about the first statement, but the second? Pure, undiluted, fury.
Gideon stands next to his twin, peering down at the parchment with a thoughtful frown. “Write that one down for sure, Sirius will love to hear it later.”
McKinnon approaches the younger Slytherin slowly. “I’m going to release you, okay, Regulus? That’s all. Please don’t move until I’m done, and then you’re free to punch me in the face as many times as you want, yeah? I deserve it, so I swear I won’t retaliate.”
Nodding his understanding, he’s grateful when the ropes fall away, and McKinnon’s wand makes a swift return into his pocket.
Rubbing his aching arms, Regulus murmurs, “Thank you for your assistance. I, however, have no desire to punch you.”
“YOU SET US UP!” Smith cries, angrily pointing at McKinnon. “You play Quidditch with both Blacks, there’s no way you can’t tell them apart!”
“I saw them at lunch together, both in Gryffindor robes,” McKinnon explains with a shrug. “They look identical from behind if Sirius decided to wear his hair up, so I wagered I had a 50/50 chance of getting the right brother.” The Beater smirks at Regulus. “Of course, the second he opened his mouth, I knew it wasn’t Sirius. He’d be kicking up a fuss if this happened to him.”
“Very dramatic, that one,” Fabian agrees. “Whole castle would have heard him yelling.”
Ah, yes, those are both excellent points; Regulus was much too cavalier in his portrayal of his brother.
Turning back to the Hufflepuff, McKinnon crosses his brawny arms over his chest. “I fucking warned you not to cut his hair, didn’t I? I’ll accept the punishment that’s coming for my involvement in this, but I legitimately cannot wait to see what Andromeda and Narcissa Black do to you, Smith, because you deserve all of it and more.”
“Oh, don’t forget our dearest Sirius!” Fabian chuckles darkly, rolling up the parchment with a flourish. “He’s horrendously protective over his little brother, always has been. Lots of nasty, terrible rumors floating around about bizarre things happening to people who’ve messed with or spoken poorly of Regulus, quite mysterious indeed.”
… what?! Like who?
Gideon snaps his fingers. “Can’t count out Potter either. Bit smitten, isn’t he?” Okay, so now they’re reaching. Salazar, who’s next, Lupin? “And loyal to a fault, him and Sirius plotting together is just -” He fakes a shudder.
“We’re missing someone, though,” Fabian mutters, rubbing his chin.
Gideon winks exaggeratedly at the younger Slytherin, and Regulus sighs internally, mentally preparing himself for the chaos that’s about to ensue.
“Perhaps me?” Regulus adds with a glare… he’s fully capable of getting revenge too, thank you very much!
“Of course, of course. But can’t forget us!”
With that, the redheads start rapidly hurling spells this way and that. The two Ravenclaws make their house proud by being the smartest of the five… though that isn’t hard to do, given the competition… having begun to inch their way towards the door the moment the twins entered. They escape the mayhem relatively fast, but one leaves with a bushy fox tail and matching set of ears, while the other wails like a banshee when Regulus’s powerful stinging hex hits him in the backside.
McKinnon knocks out one of the three Hufflepuff boys with a single punch, an action that Regulus does not find mildly attractive. Smith, the cur, uses the other as his personal shield, managing to flee the room without getting hexed (the same can not be said for his shield, who looks like he was stung by a horde of angry bees).
“I fucking hate that tosser… Rennervate!” McKinnon grumbles, reviving the unconscious Hufflepuff. “Oi, Lucas, up you get.” Hauling the dazed teen up by the front of his robes, he gestures towards the kid cowering in the corner, covered in hives. “Take Jackson to the Hospital Wing. And I don’t need to tell either of you what would happen if you ratted on us, do I?”
“Alright, Reg?” Fabian asks after the two Hufflepuffs leave, practically tripping over each other in their haste to get out. “I’m sorry we didn’t find you all sooner.”
Gideon cards his fingers through the Slytherin’s shorter hair. “Absolutely fucked up what he did, mate, but I promise, you’re still as cute as ever.”
“I’m fine, thank you,” Regulus says automatically. He smacks the redhead’s hand away, lighter than he normally would if it was Sirius touching his hair. “I’m not six anymore, you know.”
Both boys pull him into a suffocating three-way hug. “They grow up so fast, don’t they? I swear it was just yesterday, you were such a tiny little thing -”
The Gryffindors insist on accompanying him to the Great Hall, refusing to take no for an answer. The twins bracket him like bodyguards, with McKinnon walking a few steps in front of them. People aren’t staring at him, Regulus knows that, the gazes fixated on him are all in his imagination, he knows… hell, even if they could see him around McKinnon’s bulky frame, the hood of his robe is loosely pulled over his head, hiding his hair. But the second they walk through the giant double doors, it feels like hundreds of eyes watch his every move, the chatter centered around how Regulus Black, youngest member of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, got bested by a bunch of Hufflepuffs.
Oh, how he nearly wilts under the shame of it all! What if his parents find out?
McKinnon comes to a stop behind Sirius.
But his brother, who’s sitting in between their cousins and across from Evan and Barty, doesn’t notice their arrival, too focused on bitching to Regulus’s friends. “Are you sure he’s coming to dinner? It’s getting awfully late, and you know how Regulus likes to skip out on meals, even when James isn’t -”
The Gryffindor Captain clears his throat.
“Hullo, gents,” Sirius greets when he turns around, his voice laced with confusion. “Always lovely to see you, but may I inquire as to what it is that brings you so far from Gryffindor on this fine evening?” He suddenly perks up. “Oh Godric, are you booting me off the Quidditch team? I’m devastated, of course, but I understand, it’s a harsh, competitive world out there -”
“Yeah, in your dreams,” McKinnon snorts, apparently aware of the fact that while Sirius loves competing in matches, he abhors attending the mandatory practices several times a week. It’s a mystery as to how he’s made it this long without quitting…or getting the boot. Regulus assumes it’s due in large part to Potter’s obsession with the sport and his inability to be separated from his best mate for any length of time.
Without explanation, the older Beater steps to the side, revealing Regulus standing behind him. Sirius blinks, looking between the younger Slytherin and the older Gryffindors, his confusion evident. When Regulus finally gathers the courage to lower his hood, Sirius’s eyes widen at the sight of his brother’s hair, his hand rising to cover his mouth. Dropped utensils clang against dishes, and multiple gasps ring out.
Ugly, ugly, ugly.
The reactions over his sudden ‘transformation’ are understandable, but a nasty voice in the back of his head whispers that it’s due to disgust, rather than shock. For more than ten years, Regulus’s hair has never reached below his shoulders. Now? It barely touches his ears.
“Darling, what happened?!” Andromeda cries, rising to her feet along with Narcissa and Sirius.
You’re so weak, so pathetic, who would ever want someone like you around? Even a Squib would be less defenseless.
Sirius combs his fingers through his brother’s butchered hair, angry red splotches forming on his cheeks. “Who did this to you?! I know you’d never cut your hair on your own, brother, so don’t try to lie. Tell me, who did this?!”
Burden, always a fucking burden. They’d be better off without you.
“Regulus, please tell us what happened,” Narcissa calmly repeats when Regulus can’t find his voice, too overwhelmed to speak.
The truth sticks in his throat, burning him from the inside out.
An embarrassment to the family name, always needing someone to rescue you. You can’t tell them what really happened. Even if they’re polite to your face, they’ll mock you endlessly behind your back, as they should.
Disgrace.
Gray eyes scan the room, looking for anything to remove the attention off of him…
As if on cue, the doors to the Great Hall open; Smith walks briskly to the Hufflepuff table, shoulders hunched, eyes trained on the ground. Regulus doesn’t need to say anything for them to garner the truth - they follow his gaze, and when Smith anxiously glances up to check his surroundings, he freezes like an animal who knows it’s caught the attention of a predator, his skin draining of all color.
“I’ll fucking kill him!” Barty hisses, spinning on his heel and making it precisely one step closer to the Hufflepuff table before his progress is halted.
“In time,” Evan murmurs, hand latched onto their friend’s forearm. “The best revenges are the ones well-planned, let’s not be rash.”
Barty tries, to no avail, to shake the shorter teen’s tight grip off. “But he -”
“I know.”
“We can’t let -”
“We won’t.”
“But Regulus -”
“Will be better off in the long run if you aren’t in Azkaban.”
“It’s true,” Regulus whispers, his words knocking the fight right out of his best friend. “I need you here… both of you.”
Gideon hands Sirius the parchment that Fabian used to take notes on Smith’s remarks.
“Smith and his cohorts thought Regulus was you,” Fabian explains to his fellow Gryffindor, inclining his head towards the table on the opposite side of the room where Smith is shoveling food into his mouth at a dangerous rate… ugh, if he has the audacity to choke to death, thus denying Regulus his rightful revenge, he’ll be forced to crack open those necromancy books they found in the attic this summer, and Merlin, that’d just be so unnecessarily tedious, wouldn’t it? But Regulus is nothing if not committed to doing anything and everything necessary to guarantee the Hufflepuff pays for his crimes; Smith having the fucking gall to show up to dinner like nothing happened further cements his resolve to concoct the most savage payback possible. “Some nasty business about you messing with their girlfriends.”
“Regulus should report him for what he did,” Potter spits, appearing out of nowhere next to Gideon. “To the Headmaster!”
The younger Slytherin rapidly shakes his head. “Absolutely not!”
“Regulus -“
“I am NOT a tattletale, Potter.”
“James is right, though,” Sirius angrily retorts, handing the parchment to his friend. “Smith should be expelled for this offense.”
Gryffindor ideals, how quaint. Like the Headmaster would expel someone for attacking a Slytherin student? If Regulus was the one to attack Smith, he’d be packing his bags right now, assuming they even allowed him that courtesy.
Potter’s complexion starts to mirror Sirius’s, leading Narcissa to pluck the parchment from his hands; to Regulus’s further humiliation, it’s then passed to the remaining members of their group.
Wringing his hands together, Regulus focuses on a particular shiny spot on the floor. “Look, can we not have this discussion here?” Or anywhere, ever. “Please?”
“Fab and I found a new spot we think you’ll like,” Gideon divulges, and Regulus perks up at the news - the twins always find the best hideouts. “We can reconvene there?”
“Later,” Sirius says dismissively. “You’re not skipping dinner, Regulus.”
The Slytherin stubbornly plants his feet when Sirius tries to maneuver him onto the bench, unwilling to remain in a place filled with so many people, dinner be damned. Besides, they’ve bound to have attracted the attention of the staff table by now.
Fabian shoves Sirius’s hand off of the younger Slytherin. “He needs to eat, yes, but he clearly doesn’t want to be here. Given everything that literally just fucking happened to him because someone thought he was you … you want to add to that by forcing him to stay? Really?”
Regulus blinks at the malice lacing Fabian’s words, the hostility in the twins’ body language… neither of the Prewett brothers have ever spoken poorly about Sirius (at least in Regulus’s presence), and to his knowledge, the three Gryffindors have always gotten along.
“There appears to be a misunderstanding here. You see, I don’t need you, or anyone else for that matter, telling me how to handle my younger brother.” Straightening his posture and raising his chin, Sirius, for the first time in a long while, genuinely looks like the heir to their regal bloodline. “I’ve been looking after Reg for his entire life, so you and your brother can piss right off.”
Fabian sweeps his gaze disparagingly down Sirius’s frame, his lip curling. The twins are shorter than both Black brothers (the top of their heads come up to Regulus’s nose), but much more muscular from the additional years playing Quidditch. “Considering how you’ve mucked everything, maybe you do need some help, hm?”
Potter inhales sharply at the remark, while Regulus shares an uneasy glance with his cousins, silently begging them to do something. If this delves into a physical fight, which Regulus vehemently hopes it does not, he isn’t sure Sirius would be victorious, even with Potter’s assistance. And how could he pick between the two sides? Sirius is his blood, yes, but the twins adopted Regulus as their own, choosing him, similar to how Sirius chose Potter.
“You should mind your own fucking business -”
“Regulus is our business -”
“He bloody well isn’t!”
“Perhaps you’d have known that,” Gideon remarks, eyes glinting dangerously, “had you been around these last few years.”
With a howl of rage, Sirius lunges forward, but Potter yanks him back at the last possible moment.
“Absolutely not, that is ENOUGH!” Taller and bulkier than all of them combined (probably), McKinnon uses his larger frame to separate his bickering teammates. “Gid, Fab, you two handle the food situation. I’ll take this lot up to the room and give them the rundown on what happened in the meantime. Understood?”
The twins salute their friend, figuratively shaking off their anger in the process. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
“Fine,” Sirius growls when McKinnon stares expectantly at him.
"Nice haircut, Black," a painfully familiar voice shouts from the middle of the Slytherin table, drawing the attention of those around him. Pride is the only thing that keeps Regulus from flinching back.
As if sharing one mind, the twins and his brother glare icily at the speaker.
"I'm sorry, but when exactly did anyone ask for your opinion, Travers?" Sirius snaps.
"Mind your own bloody business, wanker!" Fabian adds, sounding just as angry; next to him, Gideon cracks his knuckles.
The older Slytherin holds his hands up, a cruel smirk stretched across his face. "Little defensive there, aren't you? Didn't know it was a crime to compliment someone."
"I'll show you -"
Andromeda puts her hand on his shoulder with a look of warning.
Regulus wants the floor to open and swallow him up, but he keeps his head held high, he'll never let it go if he sees it bothers you.
... he'll never let it go, regardless, will he?
Narcissa steps into his line of sight, so he can't see the former-Beater anymore. “I’ll accompany the Wonder Twins. I can grab my kit while they’re in the kitchens. Then, we can get Regulus’s hair sorted out after we finish eating.”
Gideon frowns, glancing at Regulus. “What’s in this ‘kit’?”
“Horrors,” Regulus sighs, resigned to his fate.
Notes:
Poor Regulus, absolutely not his best day :/
Chapter 6: The Art of Revenge
Chapter Text
As a child, Regulus dreamed of going to Hogwarts when he was eleven… who wouldn’t want to live in an ancient magical castle rich with history, where the next seven years would be dedicated to nothing but learning? However, now that he’s older and wiser to the infinite disappointments of the world, Regulus recognizes the impracticality of turning castles into educational institutions.
“Are we there yet?” the younger Slytherin groans, stepping onto what must be the hundredth moving staircase since they left the Great Hall.
“Convenient residing so close to the Great Hall, isn’t it?” McKinnon snorts, glancing over his shoulder. “Us Gryffindors can’t relate.”
“Another reason as to why Slytherin is the greatest house,” Andromeda counters with a teasing grin, igniting a debate regarding which house is superior solely from a practical standpoint (being much closer to the Astronomy Tower is definitely a point in favor for Ravenclaw/Gryffindor in Regulus's mind).
Dropping back a few paces to stand next to his sullen brother at the rear of the group, Regulus shamelessly continues his whinging in an attempt to provoke a response from his sibling. “I’ve walked this entire castle like five times today… my feet hurt.”
“A day in the life of a lion,” Potter smirks, stretching his arms wide and indecently arching his back. Staring fixated at the side of Sirius’s face, Regulus refuses to look over at how Potter’s shirt, visible due to his robes hanging open, is pulled across the expanse of his muscular torso from the movement. “Want me to carry you?”
Evan scoffs and mumbles something to Barty that has both of his friends scowling at the older Gryffindor.
“I'll pass, thanks.” Seeking a distraction to prevent his thoughts from wandering down inappropriate paths, he repeatedly pokes Sirius’s arm until he’s positive he has his brother’s attention. “Before I forget, Professor Flitwick requests that you attend his office hours tomorrow,” Regulus waves his red and gold-lined sleeve in Sirius’s face, inches from his nose, “as he is awed by your immense paranoia.” (He'll mention Slughorn's request later, when his brother is less likely to fly off the handle.)
A civil response wasn’t anticipated given his obnoxious behavior just now, but evidently, Sirius is well on his way to a full and proper sulk. “Why are you talking to me?”
Glaring at Potter when he looks like he’s about to interject, Regulus loops his arm through his brother’s, unwilling to risk Sirius storming off in such a mood. “Unlike you, brother dearest, I don’t speak simply to hear my own voice. When I say something, it’s because I wish to convey information, hence why I’m talking to you.”
Sirius stops walking when they reach the next landing. “Regulus, the twins were right. I am the reason Smith did this to you. At lunch, you asked me to fix your robes, and I said no for some self-righteous reason, and then you got into this mess… you should be bloody FURIOUS with -”
“With Smith,” Regulus firmly cuts him off. Realizing they’re about to be separated from the others, he drags his brother to the next staircase. “I am mad at Smith, because Smith, not you, did this to me… while thinking I was you, so really, you should be mad at him, too.”
“Believe me, I am mad for multiple reasons,” Sirius softly assures him, unlooping their arms so he can squeeze Regulus half to death in something that might pass for a hug to naïve individuals. “So mad, in fact, I could easily outdo Mother in one of her crazed rages.”
Well... that's a rather terrifying image.
“Lovely.” Finally released, Regulus sucks in a needed breath. “To reiterate, it’s not your fault, and I don’t blame you in the slightest. Thus, you aren’t allowed to blame yourself, or you will earn my fury tenfold. Are we clear?”
“So bossy,” his brother teases, dodging Regulus’s kick to his shin. Unfortunately, the action causes him to lose his balance when the staircase suddenly jerks to the side, and Sirius has to hurriedly grab onto the back of his robes to prevent him from falling to his death. “Merlin, Regulus, we really can’t take you anywhere!”
“And you wonder why I don’t like to leave the dorm," the younger Slytherin squeaks, heart-pounding in his chest. "Or my bedroom back home.”
“I never wondered that,” Sirius snorts. “I know how you are, which means I also know you’d find an innocuous way to snuff it in your room.”
Can’t argue with that…
What feels like an eternity later, they come to a halt on the seventh floor and watch bewilderedly as McKinnon paces in front of a stone wall, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy attempting to teach trolls ballet. After passing the wall for a third time, a nondescript door suddenly appears, and the Beater ushers their group inside the newly-revealed room.
“Whoa,” Potter whistles, echoing Regulus’s own sentiments.
Decked out in neutral colors of lavender and navy blue, the room brings to mind McGonagall’s suggestion of an inter-house Common Room, but on a smaller scale. Three comfortable-looking leather couches form a ‘U’ shape around the roaring fireplace, a coffee table laden with books centered in the middle, placed atop a plush rug. The wall on their left is covered entirely in bookshelves, reaching from the floor to the vaulted ceiling, and on the right, there are four wooden tables set up in a work-space of sorts. Surprisingly, Regulus’s favorite attribute of the room is not the well-organized shelves of books (though it comes in a close second); hanging above the mantel is a grandiose painting depicting an elegantly dressed wizard riding a gigantic gold-colored dragon through a snowy mountain range; it seems random, but Regulus is well-acquainted with Fabian’s 'secret' obsession with dragons.
He hears McKinnon explaining to Andromeda, the only person in their group not walking around the room in awe, that they’re currently standing in the Room of Requirement, also known as the Come and Go Room. The room will appear as whatever the seeker needs, so long as they walk in front of the wall three times and focus their thoughts on what they require.
Regulus joins Evan on one of the couches. Potter, for some deranged reason, decides he should be the one to sit on the other side of the youngest Black, a decision Barty... and uh, Regulus, of course... vehemently opposes. In an attempt to reclaim the space next for himself, Barty grabs the older Gryffindor by the leg, and unceremoniously hauls him onto the floor. A squabble ensues after Potter clamps a hand around Barty’s ankle when he tries to sit in the newly freed space, but while they’re wrestling on the carpet, Sirius slides into the spot next to Regulus. A minute later, the pre-dinner entertainment comes to an end; Potter pins Barty with a triumphant grin, though it falls the moment he raises his head to see Sirius sporting his own winning smirk. With a good-natured laugh, Barty shoves Potter off of him and squishes himself on Evan’s other side, forcing everyone to scoot down.
At Andromeda’s prompting, McKinnon reveals that Smith and his friends have always been rather envious of Sirius, for ‘loads of reasons’, but predominantly due to his prowess with the female population. (Regulus has to dig his nails into the palm of his hand to keep from bursting into giggles. Sirius discreetly pinches his leg with a warning glare, though he too looks amused.) Since the last school year, they’ve been muttering about how someone needed to ‘knock Sirius down a peg or two’, but it was the incident in the hallway earlier today between ‘Sirius’ and the girl Smith has a massive crush on, that pushed him over the edge. McKinnon, who’s apparently known Smith since they were babies because their parents are close friends, says he’s aware of how vindictive the Hufflepuff can be when he’s upset over something he's deemed ‘unfair’, so he wiggled his way into their group to ensure nothing got out of hand. To gain their trust, he claimed his sister, Marlene, was left heartbroken by the older Black brother, and as her older brother, it was his duty to get revenge on her behalf. Sirius passionately cuts in to deny hurting Marlene, causing McKinnon to smirk and say he’s well aware that Sirius is absolutely not his sister’s type, but Smith doesn’t know that. Close friends with the Prewett twins, McKinnon previously mentioned to them Smith's growing disdain for Sirius, along with his campaign to rally other blokes to his ‘cause’, so they were able to quickly conclude something was wrong when multiple sixth-years, plus one Black brother, weren’t in the Great Hall for dinner tonight.
The room is deathly silent when he finally finishes his tale, until Andromeda breaks it. “You never once thought it wise to point out that they had the wrong brother?” Her voice sounds friendly, her expression neutral, but something in her eyes has Regulus bracing himself for… something, he’s not sure precisely what, but it won’t be pleasant.
“Well, no?“ McKinnon frowns, confused. When she asks why not, he adds, “Regulus is a Slytherin.”
Sirius and Evan have gone tense next to him, and Regulus can practically feel the waves of anger emitting from Barty.
“So, to clarify - because Regulus is a Slytherin, it’s alright for him to get beaten and bullied in place of his Gryffindor brother, is that it?” the brunette snaps, her tone and expression now matching the fiery rage in her eyes.
Regulus grimaces, though it has nothing at all to do with McKinnon’s words. Deep down, he’s wholeheartedly convinced Andromeda is the scariest member of their family, more frightening than his own mother. He told his brother this theory years ago, and although Sirius was skeptical, he suggested Regulus’s belief may be due to the fact that Andromeda is generally the calmest and nicest, so her duality can be hard to comprehend.
The Beater shakes his head, hastily backtracking. “Absolutely NOT what I meant. I thought Regulus would sweet talk his way out of it, and then no harm done, ya know? ‘Sirius’ was warned, and nothing happened to Regulus. Cuz we all know Sirius would have lost his temper at some point during that -”
“Very true,” Regulus agrees, having thought the exact same thing during the incident.
“When it was obvious that wasn’t how it was going to play out, it was too late. There was no way Smith would have believed me.” McKinnon frowns sheepishly at him. "Again, I'm sorry I wasn't able to help much."
“You can all relax,” the younger Slytherin quickly interjects when Andromeda and Barty both angrily open their mouths. “McKinnon is not the one at fault here. I understand what he’s trying to say, and why he did what he did.” He inclines his head towards the older Gryffindor Beater. "You tried to help, which is what matters to me. As much as it pains me to say, those Ravenclaws possessed some degree of magical competence."
Unlike you, a snide voice whispers in his head. I bet they can do wandless magic and would never find themselves in such a predicament.
His brother turns to face him with a searching look. “You’ve talked your way out of way worse situations before, Reg. Surely, Smith would be child’s play in comparison to Grandmother.”
Regulus shrugs, but is fortunately saved from having to respond when Narcissa’s bright voice comes from the open door.
“You are such a liar Fabian Prewett!” Narcissa giggles, placing a small square trunk onto the closest desk. It doesn’t look like much, but that’s how dark objects lure their victims in, a lesson Regulus knows all too well. “I know that never happened.”
“It’s true!” both twins retort at the same time.
“Are the house elves obsessed with you guys, too?” Barty asks incredulously, eyeing the impressive spread Gideon is unloading from one of the two picnic baskets they brought from the kitchens.
Once McKinnon clears the books off the coffee table with a flick of his wand, Fabian neatly arranges the staggering amount of dishes onto it. "Don't be silly, we name-dropped Regulus.”
“All my life I’ve been told to be wary of who I trusted, as many would seek friendship for the chance to use my noble name for their own personal gain.” Regulus shakes his head despondently. “Can’t believe that day has finally come.”
Laughter echoes throughout the room, his brother’s loudest of all. “If we’re being honest, Reggie,” Sirius reaches over to pinch his cheek, “I fully intend to do the same next time I need to make a kitchen run.”
“Et tu, Brute?”
Discussing revenge plots while they eat is frustrating above all else, and ultimately not the restorative experience Regulus imagined it would be. Every idea suggested by the Gryffindors, sans Sirius, was immediately shot down by one of the Blacks for being beneath them, the suggestions unoriginal, boring, and most importantly, unlikely to satisfy their need for retribution. For every idea pitched by the Blacks and Evan/Barty, Potter quickly countered with something along the lines of, “that’s illegal”... “also illegal”... “a guaranteed one-way ticket to Azkaban”... “risk of death is too great”... “too destructive”... “are you trying to get expelled?” Honestly, it’s unfathomable how Sirius and his merry gang of pranksters ever get anything done.
Granted, McKinnon’s expression grows warier and warier as more suggestions are brought up, so perhaps Potter isn’t the only killjoy in the room. Regulus overhears the Beater mumbling to Gideon to remind him to ‘never get on the bad side of anyone with the surname Black’. Fabian wisely points out that he should also avoid offending anyone the Blacks are closely related to, especially the Rosier sisters, who are infamous for ‘making grown men cry like babies without an ounce of magic.’
After an exasperated suggestion from Evan, the group begins to disperse from the couches, most heading to the bookshelf in search of inspiration on how to get back at Smith. But Narcissa goes to the opposite side of the room to start unpacking her ‘beauty box’. Regulus’s mood plummets further.
Leaning around Sirius, Potter peers curiously at the younger Slytherin. “You’re going to let your cousin cut your hair? Does she always do it for you? You know, that’s actually kind of endearing now that I think about it.”
“Uhh…”
Narcissa catches sight of the distressed expression on her cousin’s face. “You can relax, Regulus. I know better than to go near your hair.”
He smiles guiltily at her, relieved when Sirius joins her at the table, ready to fix his brother’s hair without needing to be asked. After Regulus received a horrendous haircut from Mother’s favorite stylist when he was seven, Sirius, who had been trimming his own hair since he was four, started cutting his brother’s too, brazenly telling their parents ‘that blind old bat will never touch our beautiful hair again’. Even during the years they weren’t on good terms, Regulus’s haircuts were done by his brother; it was exceptionally awkward, of course, but Sirius was mature enough to do it properly.
Regulus hops up onto the table, facing the couches, and Sirius drapes a towel over his shoulders. Multiple potions are laid out next to him, along with two pairs of gleaming scissors, several hair clips in various sizes, four combs of different shapes, and a handheld mirror.
Potter shoots down another of the Black sisters’ ideas, causing Narcissa to snap, “Seeing as how nothing we come up with is good enough for your delicate sensibilities, Potter, how about you pitch a worthy idea? Wow us with your ‘brilliance’, why don't you?”
"What brilliance?" Regulus mutters under his breath... it's probably not a coincidence when Sirius 'accidentally' tugs too harshly while running a comb through his hair.
The Chaser rubs his chins thoughtfully. “Anyone know what Smith is afraid of?”
McKinnon and Narcissa, both in the same year as the Hufflepuff, share a look. “Wasn’t his boggart a clown?”
“No, that was Goldstein." After a few minutes of silence, Narcissa huffs, “Drats, I can’t remember! I'm sure it was something insipid.”
Everyone starts calling out possible fears to try and jog their memories.
“Giant spiders?” Regulus suggests, adding his voice to the choir.
The older Gryffindor Beater claps his hands together. “Yes! Acromantulas, that’s right. One of the blokes in my dorm went on a crusade against spiders, and we all blamed Smith for his sudden, though thankfully brief, descent into madness.”
Sirius makes an excited noise. “Ooh, brilliant… Reg, do you think your ole pal Newt could lend you one?”
“Uh, pardon, but who do you know that has an Acromantula hanging around?!” Potter demands incredulously. “They are supposedly incredibly rare.”
Selecting a hefty book from one of the shelves, Fabian lobs it at his fellow Chaser without warning, nearly hitting him in the face. “Need to polish up your reflexes before the season starts, mate.”
“Psh, my reflexes are superb… besides on the pitch, I’m expecting the Quaffle to be launched at my face.” Potter peers curiously down at the cover.
The twins share a mischievous look with McKinnon. "Do you remember when ole Jamie got clocked right in the kisser -"
"Deserved it, too." Glancing over his shoulder, Regulus sees Sirius staring down Potter through narrowed eyes. "Didn't ya, mate?"
Even from a distance, Potter's red ears are easy to spot, and Regulus makes a mental note to ask the twins about it later. “Agree to disagree... so wait, you know the legendary magizoologist, Newt Scamander?” He glares accusingly at Sirius. “You never told me that!”
“You mean Reg’s one true love?” Barty quips, earning giggles from everyone except Potter, McKinnon, and Regulus himself.
To his humiliation, Sirius goes on to explain how when Regulus was eight, he inexplicably woke up one morning staunchly convinced there was a basilisk living in the pipes of their home. He would use the toilet twice a day, once in the morning and once at night, always with his eyes covered, adamantly refusing to shower because it meant spending too much time in the loo. After a week of this, Father sarcastically suggested Kreacher take him outside on the back patio to hose him down, despite it being winter in London - wishing to be clean, Regulus gratefully accepted. Copious heating charms were cast both outside and within the house, but it wasn’t enough to prevent Regulus from catching a chill right before Christmas.
Growing tired of their mother’s complaints regarding her youngest son’s uncustomarily defiant behavior, Grandmother Melania staged an intervention. She arranged for Regulus to meet Newt Scamander, a renowned magizoologist that she and Grandfather attended Hogwarts with, in hopes of convincing him it was impossible for a basilisk to get into the pipes, let alone live there. While their visit to Scamander’s home was probably the greatest day of Regulus’s life, it didn’t really help in terms of the basilisk issue; he only moved past the belief when Uncle Alphard came over with Uncle Gio to demonstrate how small the pipes in their house were versus the enormous size of a basilisk, even one that wasn’t fully grown (their demonstration also resulted in half of the brothers’ shared bathroom being taken apart, and Sirius was thrilled when Father agreed to let him remodel it).
“Scamander’s a nice bloke, but definitely an odd one, so I see why he gets on with Regulus,” Sirius muses, using a precise Aguamenti to dampen his brother’s hair. “To Grandmother’s dismay, their meeting was ineffective, as Regulus was much too busy staring at him with heart-eyes to register a word he said… except for that little tangent he went on about the vampire covens he’d encountered during his travels, Reg definitely tuned in for that. Never heard even the snootiest of Ravenclaws ask so many questions in a single breath.”
The younger Slytherin protests this version of events, but Evan loudly talks over him, adding to the betrayal. “They’re quill-pals, you know. Scamander writes twice a month, like clockwork. We can always tell when it’s Letter Day because it’s the only time, other than Quidditch games, where Regulus wakes up early enough to eat breakfast with us unrushed.”
“That’s cute,” Potter mutters, seemingly to himself.
“Thank you all for that unnecessary interlude that was heavily exaggerated,” Regulus sniffs self-consciously. ‘Cute’ is not a word that should ever be associated with himself, he’s a Black for Salazar’s sake. “But even if he did have access to an Acromantula, we will not put an innocent creature at risk of injury. As much as I despise Smith and want him to suffer, it won’t be at the expense of another living being.”
Potter runs a hair through his own messy hair, looking thoughtful. “Who says we need a real Acromantula, though?”
No further explanation is given, and the Chaser drifts towards the bookshelves, lost in his own head. Sirius finishes evening out his brother’s hair, and with Narcissa’s guidance, massages a few potions into Regulus’s scalp that supposedly should lessen the time it takes for his locks to regrow. The combined scents make him want to sneeze, which is why Regulus usually hates having more than one potion added to his hair, if any at all; knowing this, Sirius takes extra care in making the experience a positive one, leaving Regulus practically purring by the end of it.
“Aw, come here, little star,” Fabian coos when Sirius starts complaining his fingers are cramping (to be fair, he spent probably twenty minutes playing with Regulus’s hair, so it’s a forgivable offense... but he also made Regulus’s head a delightful mix of floaty and tingling, hence his shameless whine once his brother stopped).
The younger Slytherin flinches when Sirius drops one of the thankfully shatter-proof potion vials on the ground.
“More like ‘little star cat’,” Barty teases, raising his voice to be heard above the noise of Narcissa and Sirius's bickering. “Maybe you should have been named Leo.”
Shuddering at the thought of such an inferior name, Regulus thanks his brother for his efforts but declines his offer to enlarge the mirror so he can get a better view of the final result; he trusts Sirius did the best he could, he just can’t handle a visual reminder of his personal failures right now. Settling between the twins, Fabian’s hands immediately find their way into Regulus’s hair, while Gideon starts rubbing his chronically tense shoulders. Letting the voices around the room wash over him, Regulus drifts into a peaceful slumber, content with the knowledge that he’ll be better prepared to plan his revenge whenever he wakes.
“Regulus, wake up,” someone whispers, lightly shaking his shoulder. “It’s almost curfew, you gotta get up and go back to your dorm.”
He bats irritably at the hand daring to interrupt a rare experience for him - a pleasant, non-nightmarish dream. “Grr, go ‘way, Siri.”
A weird squealing sound follows, and then a muffled cough. “It’s James, actually.”
“Lie,” Regulus grumbles. “Potter isn’t a snake.”
“Neither is Sirius,” his brother points out, doing that weird, pretentious thing where he talks about himself in third-person.
“Siri hides from the mean lions in the Snakepit, obviously.”
Sirius chuckles at that. “Fair. But come on, Regulus, you gotta get up… unless you want me to tickle you?”
With a hiss of frustration, Regulus opens his eyes, begrudgingly accepting that he won’t be allowed to return to his slumber anytime soon, not when Sirius is so desperate for attention. Turning his head to the side, he prepares to start chastising his brother for threatening him with something so cruel… his mouth snaps shut when he meets the hazel eyes of one James Potter.
“Hi,” Potter says brightly from his perch on the coffee table. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”
If this awkwardness is what he's waking up to, he’d much rather not be back, thanks.
A quick sweep of the room reveals they’re the only ones left in the Room of Requirement. Regulus legitimately cannot believe his friends, his cousins, and his brother would abandon him with only Potter left for company… as awful as it sounds, something bad better have happened to justify this treachery. “Where is everyone?”
“Uhh, let’s see.” The Chaser starts ticking people off with his fingers. “Fab and Gid wanted to pop by the library before curfew, something about an essay due tomorrow they needed to finish, and they dragged Michael along because, and I quote, ‘thanks to the giant’s blood running through his veins, he can easily reach the highest shelves where all the useful books are kept’. Michael, of course, denied being part giant, but I dunno, have you seen those biceps?”
“They’re pretty hard to miss, Potter. I’d wager the twins are onto something.”
The Gryffindor blinks, probably surprised Regulus was agreeing with him, and then beams. “Exactly! Like how can a sixth-year be that tall?!”
Regulus rolls his eyes. “Because he’s a half-giant, Potter, surely you must realize they don’t follow the same growth patterns as regular wizards.”
Strange how Potter seems to brighten even more when sassed. “My apologies, silly me. Your mate Rosier left to send an owl to his aunt, the one who runs an Apothecary… or wait, is she his only aunt?” The question is rhetorical, apparently, as Potter continues on without pause. “Hmm, unsure, but he’s requesting the harder-to-come-by ingredients for the potion we’re going to use on Smith, so Crouch accompanied him. Your cousins had a Prefects meeting to attend before their rounds began, and your brother had to use the loo, but he’ll be back. There was something else, though…”
Potter mindlessly chews on his unbelievably plump bottom lip whilst lost in thought. Regulus can’t help but fixate on it. Oh, how he yearns to save that poor thing from such torture!... or maybe be the one to nibble on it, instead? Unconsciously leaning forward, Regulus’s hand reaches out, intending to gently pull it free, when Potter snaps his fingers, unknowingly jerking the Slytherin out of his daze.
“Ah, yes, I remember now! Narcissa asked that you bring her hair-suitcase-thing back to the dorm, if you’d be so kind, she doesn’t trust anyone else apparently… oh, are you alright? You look a bit flushed.”
To diffuse the near-crippling mortification of their situation, Regulus abruptly changes the topic, inquiring about the revenge method they settled on. Potter goes on to explain how, with Sirius’s assistance, they’ll brew an Illusion Potion once the required ingredients are collected. Over a week-long period, the potion should induce sporadic, short term hallucinations of Acromantulas, or whatever it is that Smith fears most. The difficulty will be administering it to him, especially if he’s going to be on guard, anticipating an attack. But Potter says he ‘isn’t worried, there’s plenty of time to figure it out’.
After a quick glance towards the door confirms they’re still alone, Potter quietly adds that Sirius was severely disappointed in their decision to choose a delayed revenge, having wished to strike immediately.
“Psychological warfare,” the Slytherin asserts, shaking his head. His brother lacks patience, but he’ll have to deal with it. “As previously stated, Smith will be expecting an attack. The longer nothing happens, the worse his anxiety will become. It’s an excellent decision to wait, as painful as it may be for those who seek instant gratification.”
Potter lips quirk up at the corners. “Exactly what your cousins said.”
Regulus nods, but with nothing else to say, remains silent. Potter doesn’t speak either, though his eyes never shift away from the Slytherin.
“Potter, would you stop bloody staring at me!” Regulus snarls, willing his heated cheeks to cool down. The unwavering attention unnerves him, and he’s doubly frustrated by how his own tactic is being wielded against him. “I know my hair looks awful, which isn’t Sirius’s fault, he did the best he could with what he had, but staring at me like I’m some sort of freak show is quite frankly, impolite -”
Stupid, stupid, stupid, why would you say that to your nemesis of all people? Just hand him your insecurities on a silver platter why don’t you? Great job, Regulus, great job.
Potter moves like he’s about to touch Regulus’s arm before catching himself. “No! No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, you just… your hair doesn’t look bad at all, it’s… well… um, actually, it’s rather… nice.”
(("Nice hair, Black."))
“Nice?” Regulus echoes incredulously, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his shins. Willing himself not to cry, Merlin, I would literally rather pitch myself off the Astronomy Tower than let Potter see his words affected me, he scowls at the boy in front of him. “That’s basically synonymous with ‘bloody awful’, so thanks for the boost of confidence, Potter, I really appreciate it.”
STOP. TALKING. YOU. IDIOT!
“No, it’s not! The shorter style suits you, and it looks really really good, Regulus, I swear… not that the longer hair is bad either, it just makes you look like Sirius, that’s all.”
Regulus cocks his head to the side, struggling not to laugh at how flustered Potter’s become in the last thirty seconds. “Is looking like my notoriously handsome brother a bad thing?”
“I mean, I suppose not,” Potter mutters, finally glancing away. “But you’re NOT your brother, and that’s okay, because you’re you, and you’re great too, in your own Regulus-esque way… I think the shorter hair might help accentuate that point.” He shrugs, cheeks painted pink. “If that makes any sense whatsoever.”
“It does,” the Slytherin murmurs, his throat tightening. It seems so simple when Potter says it like that, but Regulus has always teetered between two significantly different ideals: idolizing his big brother and striving to be just like him // being seen as his own person, free from living in the large shadow casted by his sibling. “Thanks.”
Potter grins softly.
Completely unrelated to that, Regulus’s heartbeat starts to do funny things.
“So, um… what were you dreaming about?”
Regulus isn’t one to view the world through rose-colored glasses, something Sirius has teased him about since they were incredibly young. He isn’t as a pessimist, as his brother claims, but a realist. It certainly isn’t Regulus’s fault life is generally one terrible experience after another, now, is it? He just calls it like it is.
As such, he doesn’t view Potter’s question as casual small talk like most people might: it’s the start of an interrogation.
And people only probe for a reason.
And the litany of potential reasons instantly puts Regulus on the defensive.
“Going to break out your Divination text and interpret my dreams, are you?” the Slytherin drawls, doing his best to appear unaffected by the inquisition.
‘Never let them see you sweat,’ Grandmother always said. ‘If you do, they’ll rip you apart like a dragon tears into its prey.’
Perhaps Potter’s just nosy, and that’s the reason for the invasive question. After all, Sirius and his friends are well-known for their lack of boundaries -
“I could, if you want me to, but it’s just that…” His complexion turns an even brighter red than when he nearly choked to death at lunch. Regulus would find it amusing on any other occasion, but right now, it only increases his internal panic. Inhaling deeply, Potter says in a jumbled rush, “Yousaidmynameinyoursleep.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK.
Merlin’s beard! What are the chances Regulus has always been chatty in his sleep, and Sirius simply deemed this inconsequential information to share? Or maybe because he fell asleep totally relaxed, it somehow altered his brain? It sounds like a stretch, but considering Regulus was born stressed out and has never once felt such tranquility in his entire existence, it cannot be discounted. Besides, anxiety is a survival mechanism, is it not?
Wracking his mind for a viable explanation that’s nowhere near, ‘I dreamt you took me on a date to my favorite magical bookstore in Paris, and then we went ice-skating at the Eiffel Tower. Afterwards, we had dinner at a five star, invite-only restaurant, and to cap the night off, we shared an espresso hot chocolate under the moonlight,’ Regulus opts for simplicity. “We were in the depths of the Forbidden Forest searching for a unicorn because Sirius wanted to adopt one, but instead, we found the nest of a fully-grown Acromantula. It tried to eat you.”
Potter’s embarrassed expression quickly shifts to one of delight. “Aw, were you worried about me, Regulus?”
“Seeing anyone get eaten by a giant talking spider is distasteful,” the Slytherin shudders, speaking the truth. Upon reconsideration, he adds, “except Smith.” And Paxton. And Travers, and hm, there’s probably a few more to add to the list, but that would be revealing too much to James Potter, who would undoubtedly share said information with Regulus's brother, who would then come back with questions, and that sounded like a legitimate nightmare.
“That’s fair,” Potter laughs, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. After a minute of less-uncomfortable silence, he asks, “So, how much do you want to bet big brother Siri is staring at himself in the mirror right now? Probably in the middle of composing a sonnet about his unparalleled beauty as we speak.”
A cold feeling of dread washes down Regulus's spine. “How long has he been gone?”
Potter checks his watch. “Uh, probably twenty minutes, maybe a bit more?”
“You don’t find that cause for concern, you absolute imbecile?!” Taking a moment to shoot a withering glare at the daft Gryffindor, Regulus then strides purposefully towards the door. “My brother insists you’re intelligent, but it must be his bias towards you talking, because honestly, Potter, I don’t see it.”
“Okay one, there’s no need for name-calling and insults,” Potter huffs, rushing to catch up to him. “And two, no, I don’t find it cause for concern. See, maybe you’re aware… or perhaps not, considering it’s likely a genetic trait… but your brother routinely spends an inordinate amount of time in the loo. Thought he had a stomach issue for a while, but then we realized he was literally just gazing at himself in the mirror.”
Whirling on his heel, Regulus angrily pokes the older teen in the chest. “My brother and I have shared a bathroom for our entire lives, so I am well aware of his excessive vanity, thank you. And because I’ve known Sirius for FOURTEEN YEARS, I know precisely how to handle him when he’s in a foul mood… do you know what the number one rule is in situations like these?” Potter opens his mouth, then shuts it with a half-shrug. “ALWAYS KNOW WHERE HE IS, POTTER!… What’s to stop him from marching down to Hufflepuff to give Smith a piece of his wand, hmm?”
Once he’s satisfied that Potter looks appropriately chastised, Regulus twists back around and reaches for the doorknob… except, it starts turning on its own, meaning he has to quickly jump back to avoid getting hit as someone traipses into the room. He bumps into Potter, who was standing directly behind him, and almost sags into his embrace when Sirius’s voice launches into a rant about how he can’t believe they were going to leave without him. Raising his head to correct this wrong assumption, the words never come, as Regulus is rendered speechless by the sight before him.
“Mate!” the other Gryffindor gasps. “Did Smith and his crew get you, too?”
Potter’s more of an idiot than first assumed if he genuinely thinks that’s the case; his brother’s cheery disposition makes it obvious this was something he did himself.
Sirius tucks a lock of his drastically shorter hair behind his ear. “No, ‘course not. Smith must realize by now that he’ll end up dead in a ditch if he comes anywhere near me or Reg again.” He shrugs, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. “And if he hasn’t, then he’ll realize it when he ends up dead in a ditch.”
Regulus’s mind spins in circles, grappling to process why his brother would willingly do such a thing to himself. Smith was correct when he said the feature that people (not just girls, but males too) focus on first when it comes to the elder Black brother is his hair… Sirius LOVES his long, luscious locks, taking pride in its magnificence. The obsession wasn't something that developed at Hogwarts either - he’s always been fanatical about his hair.
“Did you… did you hack off your hair to assuage your guilty conscience, the one you shouldn’t have to begin with because what happened to me was NOT your fault?” Regulus hisses, another wave of shame crashing over him. “Or is this some sort of misplaced brother-solidarity thing because I look fucking ridiculous, and you’re trying to take some of the attention off of me? Because if that’s the case, you failed… epically!”
Of course his brother would still look ridiculously handsome without his long hair - then there’s Regulus, who looks like a baby troll.
Sirius frowns, looking confused. “Uhh… none of the above?”
“Then, why did you do it, Sirius?”
“We’ve benefited in the past from looking almost exactly alike, you know,” Sirius mutters defensively, placing a hand on his hip.
Regulus mirrors his brother's stance. “Have we, now?”
“Ah… maybe not all the time,” the Gryffindor grimaces, looking chagrined. “Sorry.”
“I don’t want your apologies, Sirius, I want to know why you cut your hair.”
“Well, you see…”
“The truth if you will, please,” Regulus adds with a pointed look. “I have no time for your lies.”
His brother bristles. “Lie a lot, do I?”
Nope nope nope, Regulus isn’t going to fall for that this time! “Don’t you?”
“If you recall, little brother,” Sirius growls, getting right in the younger’s face. “Most of those lies you’re probably thinking of were told solely to protect you from our parents’ ire.”
(‘Reggie wasn’t tearing up because the shop-keeper said the book he wanted was sold out, I accidentally stepped on his toes really hard.’ ‘He’s not biting his nails again, I trimmed them last night by candlelight, and apparently didn’t do the best job.’ ‘Regulus didn’t do anything to offend those little witches. One tried to kiss him, but he politely rebuffed her because it’s improper, and they got all in a tizzy about it. I saw the whole thing.’ ‘No, Regulus didn’t bite me again, it’s an irritation from that stuffy collared shirt you made me wear.’ ‘Yes, Regulus is doing well at Hogwarts, he has loads of friends.’)
Regulus tenses but doesn’t step back. “I never asked you to -“
“You're right, you didn’t ask!” Sirius agrees, nearly yelling by now. “But I did it anyway because you're my younger brother, and you’re -”
“Go on then, say it!” the Slytherin demands when the older trails off, but Sirius shakes his head, looking away. Something in Regulus snaps. “You think I’m weak, pathetic, delicate, that I’m a baby who needs to be protected from the harsh realities of the world. Well, news flash, big brother - I’ve done just fine on my own without you.” He can’t help from resentfully adding, “not that you care.”
“I do care! And I don’t think you’re weak - “
“Oh please, yes you do, we both know it! You always have, because of my… history.” History of illness, of course, but even without an audience, Regulus’s first six and a half years of life continues to be a topic he’s uncomfortable discussing.
Potter urgently tugs on the sleeve of Regulus’s robe, blathering something about returning to the couches to eat dessert. Shaking him off, Regulus re-focuses his attention on the heated staredown with his brother.
What seems like an hour later, Sirius cracks. “Gah, fine! You win, brat.” Triumph rushes through Regulus, the satisfaction of beating his brother… regardless of how insignificant or childish the contest is… outweighing the burning in his eyes. “Alright. I suppose I have a confession to make.”
Oh Merlin, this oughta be good.
Sirius gracefully lowers himself to the ground, crossing his legs. Potter sits in front of his friend, slightly to the left, and looks expectantly up at Regulus when he doesn’t move.
“What Hufflepuff tripe is this?” Regulus complains as he sits on his brother’s right, opposite Potter. While he would normally hold his ground for longer, no pun intended, he'd rather get this madness over with as fast as possible - this is truly the day that never fucking ends.
“The ‘Revelations Circle’ was Sirius’s idea, back in our first year,” Potter explains, side-eyeing the older Black brother who's now staring vacantly into the distance. “We sometimes use it in our dorm when there’s an issue in the group that needs to be addressed, or like if someone needs advice, or to discuss something personal. This way we know it’s an important matter. We uhhh... we always assumed you guys did it growing up.”
Regulus scoffs and shakes his head. They don't discuss silly things like feelings, how uncouth. “No, when Sirius wants to know something, he barges into my room, jumps on me, and chokes me until I provide him the information he seeks.”
“That was ONE time!” Sirius cries, returning to reality. Potter looks suitably horrified by the admittance, exactly as Regulus intended. He mentally pats himself on the back for a job well done. “And that’s not what happened at all, good Godric can you spin the truth!”
Before Potter can ask, Sirius launches into a rushed explanation of how one Christmas, Uncle Alphard gifted his nieces and nephews a container of fancy chocolates made by a renowned French Potions Master, each candy crafted to give the user a brief vision of their future. The chocolates, Uncle Alphard claimed, were infused with the receiver’s magical essence (Potter interrupted to ask if this was the same uncle who would occasionally pluck hair out of their heads without warning for ‘magical rituals’, to which Sirius nodded… Regulus doesn’t have the heart to mention this long-standing practice was just Uncle Alphard’s idea of a laugh). They were warned the chocolates would be a deadly poison to anyone else if consumed, so they should take caution in sharing them with others.
Sirius offhandedly mentioned to Regulus later that night that he had no desire whatsoever to experience visions of his future, so the younger waited a full week to see if his brother would change his mind - he did not. A series of unfortunate events later (Regulus still isn’t sure if Uncle Alphard’s house elf, Biest, genuinely believed the chocolates were poisonous if eaten by anyone else, or if he was acting under orders from his Master to subtly create chaos), Regulus was eagerly unwrapping the first stolen piece, his own candy long gone by then, when Sirius crashed into his room, shouting about how he didn’t know where his chocolates were. Hurriedly shoving the pilfered sweet into his mouth, Regulus was unprepared for Sirius to jump on him, an action that caused him to inadvertently swallow the sickle-sized candy whole. The moments directly after were a bit blurry, but the commotion caused half of their family, who were downstairs celebrating the New Year, to come running into Regulus’s room. Grandfather’s quick-thinking spell dislodged the chocolate from his throat, finally allowing him to breathe. What followed was a lot of yelling and finger-pointing until Grandmother took charge, providing Sirius the opportunity to explain himself.
“How badly did they punish you all?” Potter winces sympathetically.
“Once they realized Sirius was legitimately convinced I was about to die from eating chocolates that weren’t mine," Regulus explains, "Grandmother insisted we’d been traumatized enough and needed no further discipline. It didn’t hurt that Grandfather decreed it was our Uncle’s fault for fibbing in the first place, especially because the whole family knew we shared everything with one another back then.”
It wasn’t said directly, but the family was also well aware of Sirius’s immense gullibility (and Regulus’s sweet tooth), so from Grandfather’s perspective, Uncle Alphard knew all along he was sowing the seeds of chaos by making such a claim. Although the incident itself was uncomfortable, Regulus was quite pleased with the end result, receiving an entire case of the chocolates as an apology… two cases, actually, since Sirius refused to eat his ‘on principle’. The visions were captivating, brief flashes of images, and Regulus would waste hours daydreaming about what they could mean. He hardly remembers them now, only vague bits and pieces, some that made sense, many that did not; an older version of himself in his Quidditch gear, Captain badge gleaming on his chest; a pair of glasses on a nightstand next to his wand; a golden trident with sapphire and emeralds in the prongs; a black kitten sleeping on his chest (which turned out to be Wrath); a hand he thinks might be his own, bloodied and bruised, held gently in the grip of someone else’s.
“Got a hell of a lecture from our parents when everyone left, though,” Sirius grumbles petulantly. "They didn’t appreciate me pointing out how hypocritical it was for them to be mad that I implicitly trusted what an adult, one I was related to no less, told me was true.”
Clearing his throat, Regulus redirects the conversation away from Sirius’s gripes, and back to his own. “Why did you cut your hair, brother?”
His brother sighs, shoulders slumping. “Okay, part one… it was an impulsive choice, with absolutely bare minimum introspection.” Regulus fully buys that, so he waits patiently for the rest. “Umm, part two… since we were children, I’ve always taken great pride in how everyone gets one good look at you and then says you’re the miniature version of me. In looks, not personality, of course, you’ve always been opposite from me in that regard.”
Yeah, definitely calling bollocks on that.
“You HATE when people say we look alike. Don’t bother denying it, I’ve seen how twitchy you get whenever someone makes a comment of the sort.”
“No, I hate how people say we look like twins. If you’re no longer my mini-me, it’s because you’re growing up, and if you’re growing up…” Abruptly cutting himself off, Sirius glances away.
The Slytherin blinks, and then blinks again, not following the thought process. “That tends to be how life is… you grow and change, until you die, and then your remains break down and change -”
“Anyways!” Potter rudely interrupts.
“I came to accept that this summer… the first part, I mean,” Sirius corrects with a laugh. “That you’re growing up, no matter how much I wish you weren’t. But thanks to Smith, we no longer look even the least bit alike, and that just didn’t sit right with me, Reg.”
“Uh, mate -”
“Then, in the loo just now,” Sirius continues, ignoring Potter’s timid interruption. “I had an epiphany! If I changed, boom... problem solved! Now, everyone will know that you’re my brother, and I’m yours.”
Regulus rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Something tells me they’d know we’re brothers even without matching haircuts.” Honestly, he doesn’t understand his brother’s reasoning, but to avoid further headache, he decides to chalk it up to Sirius being Sirius. Tucking a piece of hair behind his ear, Regulus is about to express his acceptance of the explanation when his brother pales. “Merlin, what is it now?”
“Oh fuck, please forgive me, Reg, I didn’t think, I’m so sorry. I can… I will fix it, I swear!” Looking frantically around the room, Sirius’s eyes come to rest on Narcissa’s hair kit. “I’ll shave it off.”
“Sirius," Potter says worriedly, "I really don’t think that’s necessary.”
“It’s VERY necessary!” Leaping to his feet, he makes his way to the table where he trimmed Regulus’s hair earlier. “It just occurred to me that Regulus will never again want us to look alike, why would he?! I recognize how inconsiderate that sounds,” Sirius's laugh is borderline hysterical, “especially when he pointed out not fifteen minutes ago what good it did for him… but I’ll fix it, okay, one moment, s’il vous plaît -”
Given the disastrous day Regulus had, he cannot be faulted for needing a few additional moments to work out the riddle his brother was espousing; he squints, trying to imagine what Sirius would look like with the drastically shorter hairstyle.
“Touch me one more time, Potter,” Regulus warns, catching the Chaser’s wrist when he attempts to nudge his arm again, “and I’ll bite you so hard, not even the greatest Healers in the world will be able to restore your nerve-endings.”
Potter yanks his hand back, looking at Sirius with a distressed expression.
“Reggie had a biting phase that I am not at liberty to discuss further,” Sirius responds distractedly, attempting to open Narcissa’s heavily warded hair kit. “All I am able to disclose is that no one is fully convinced he grew out of it.”
Regulus bares his teeth at Potter, refusing to be embarrassed about his childhood habit of biting… it wasn’t even biting, per se, he lightly chewed on things, often without realizing it, such as his clothes, fingernails, quills, and toys. It just so happened that for years, his brother was his favorite thing to put his teeth on, mostly because he was the only person, besides Evan, who didn’t admonish him for it. Back then, Sirius was always right there, carrying Regulus around, sitting him in his lap to read a story, snuggling him when they went to sleep at night. Regulus never bit hard enough for it to hurt, it really was mostly him resting his teeth on exposed skin, sometimes nibbling, sometimes not, sometimes unintentionally leaving a mark. Sirius blamed the compulsion on their parents, for taking away Regulus’s pacifier too early, then doing nothing to help him while he was teething. So, by the time all of his teeth came in, he’d grown accustomed to the bad habit, one that admittedly took him a while to shake.
Realizing he’s having no adverse effect on Potter (who simply stares back, looking amused), the Slytherin pulls himself to his feet, making his way over to his rapidly-angering brother.
“I don’t understand why you wish for us to look alike,” Regulus confesses softly, subtly moving the small hair kit away from his brother before he damages it, or worse, activates some defensive mechanism. “But you were correct that it has been advantageous at times, and truthfully, I’m not bothered by it, regardless of what happened earlier with Smith. So, for the love of Merlin, please don’t shave your head, I cannot bear the thought of spending the next few months listening to you bemoan the loss of your precious hair.”
“It’s very beautiful hair, if I do say so myself,” Sirius sniffs, puffing his chest out, but his playful demeanor isn't enough to hide his obvious relief over Regulus’s words. “Are you sure, Reg? I truly didn’t mean to be so inconsiderate over what happened to you, I can’t even imagine how upsetting it must have been.”
A vicious smile spreads across Regulus’s face. “I warned Smith if he cut my hair, he’d be damning himself, said I’d haunt him day and night for the rest of his existence. And if we look alike…”
This time, it’s Sirius who mirrors him. “Ooh, I like the way you think, brother dearest.”
Potter massages his temples with a sigh.
Chapter 7: Loathing
Notes:
This is one of my fave chapters of the whole story, so I hope you guys enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
In spite of his excellent persuasive abilities, it takes Regulus one entire fucking week to get to the bottom of what caused his brother to flee the Gryffindor dorms for the dungeons.
The spat was with Lupin of course, which was glaringly obvious the day following Sirius’s sudden appearance in Slytherin.
But the full reveal of what they were quarreling about, and how the fight played out…
Well, that leaves Regulus seething.
Waking up Friday morning, something was off, Regulus sensed it before his eyes ever opened. Logically, he couldn’t explain how he ‘knew’, but his intuition was adamant that the wrongness had no connection to the drama from the day prior.
“Morning!” Sirius chirped next to him on the bed. “Happy Friday, little brother.” A hand reached out to lightly boop him on the nose, and if Regulus had been slightly more awake, he would have sunk his teeth into the offending flesh as a reminder to not touch him (especially before he had coffee, dear Merlin, how rude). “Come on now, up ya get, much to do today!”
The Slytherin groaned audibly, for two different, but equally important reasons; one, mornings were the bane of his existence. Lessons shouldn’t begin until noon, that was his firm belief; and two, the manic aura exuding from his brother was impossible to miss, which meant there was a 98.9356% probability the day would be an absolute shit show.
And surprise, surprise - he was right.
Filled with a feverish, restless energy, Sirius zipped around the dorm room for over an hour with his wand waving, occasionally muttering under his breath throughout the process. Regulus managed to catch a few things like, ‘poor lighting, dreadful for the complexion’, ‘never-ending dust, must have been ole Salazar’s idea of a hoot’, and ‘peeping Giant Squid, I see ya Willy, you pervert… acquire a less crass hobby, please and thank you’. The Slytherin fourth-years conducted their morning routines without issue, thanks to their concerted efforts to stay out of Sirius's way, leaving him to his madness.
Co-existing with him was that easy, so really, Regulus will never understand Lupin’s problem.
He spent breakfast engaging in quiet small talk with Potter and Evan, while steadfastly avoiding catching Travers's eye. Sitting a few seats down from their group, the older Slytherin leered at Regulus for a good portion of the meal... though he begrudgingly turned back to his goons when Potter emerged as the victor of their contentious staredown (a silent confrontation that did not make Regulus feel any type of way except annoyed). Next to them, Sirius discussed various articles in the morning’s Daily Prophet with Barty, the only one awake enough to follow… and tolerate… the Black heir's rapid-fire commentary. Although Regulus was half asleep, he noticed how Sirius, whose favorite meal of the day was breakfast, ate only a handful of grapes, while sporadically sipping from his teacup; without question, it was a meager ration, but the Slytherin held his tongue, deciding to let the poor nutrition slide given the circumstances.
Unfortunately, by lunchtime, Sirius was worse-off than he had been that morning. The fidgeting was so extensive, he practically vibrated in place on the bench. His cheeks were stained rouge, forehead gleaming with a light sheen of perspiration. Presuming he’d come down with a fever, Narcissa checked his temperature twice - it was normal both times. When Andromeda gathered the courage to ask what his deal was, all she could wrangle from him was ‘Double Potions this afternoon’. Regulus’s own anxiety grew tenfold when his brother consumed precisely two nibbles of his sandwich, and then nudged his plate away with a grimace - it was unheard of for Sirius to willingly skip meals unless he was horrendously sick. But he assured them he felt fine, all the while ignoring the younger’s compelling arguments to eat more.
From the Gryffindor table, Potter kept a wary eye trained on his friend, something Regulus was only aware of due to the heated ‘what-the-fuck-is-going-on?’ and ‘do-you-know-anything-about-this?’ looks they exchanged… not because he was stealing glances at his brother’s best mate or anything, that’d be pathetic.
The fourth-year Slytherins’ Herbology class ran longer than usual, so when Regulus arrived for dinner and saw no sign of his brother, he assumed Sirius had finished eating and fled to the Snakepit (or was off looking for him, and Regulus only avoided detection because he wasn’t trying to hide). In the midst of serving himself a generous helping of mashed potatoes, Andromeda leaned over to quietly inform him that Sirius had yet to make an appearance; Narcissa added that when Potter arrived, he looked annoyed, sat a good distance away from Lupin, and after scarfing down his dinner, ‘stormed out in an obvious strop’.
Inhaling his own food, Regulus rushed back to the dungeons, heart in his throat. With a gracelessness that would result in his disownment if his parents had witnessed it, he stumbled over the threshold into his dorm, nearly collapsing with relief when he saw his closed bed curtains - there would be no need to scour the castle for his brother.
Cautiously pulling the curtain aside, he found Sirius wide-awake, red-rimmed eyes staring vacantly up at the canopy. One might have thought he was in a trance, if not for the slender finger tapping on the Black family ring, the same ring Grandfather Arcturus presented to Sirius when he received his Hogwarts acceptance letter, the same ring being worn daily again, with no explanation given for its reappearance. After some careful prodding, Regulus learned absolutely nothing, and determining the best course of action would be to give Sirius his space for now, he returned to the Common Room to spend some time with Evan and Barty. Hours later, when the Slytherins were preparing for bed, Evan wordlessly pressed Wrath into his chest, inclining his head towards the lone four-poster with its curtains shut, as a silent explanation.
Petting the purring kitten visibly lessened Sirius’s melancholy, so Regulus delicately asked once more what happened. He had only meant ‘what happened today’, but apparently, the current turmoil related to the invisible hippogriff in the room - Sirius’s departure from Gryffindor.
According to his brother, the day before his arrival in Slytherin, Lupin hadn’t been feeling well, so he spent the night in the Hospital Wing. Sirius, who had been ‘mildly stressed’ at the time due to ‘a variety of factors’ (Regulus only received vague responses regarding what these stressors were), decided he should help his friend out by unpacking his belongings, a task Lupin had yet to begin despite the term starting days earlier. Embarking on what he considered to be a win-win situation, Sirius was bewildered by how upset Lupin became when he returned to find his stuff put away, their room spotless and tidy for the first time ever.
Speaking like he was revealing a shameful secret, Sirius explained that his friend's section of the room was ‘chronically messy’, ‘disorderly to the point of perilousness’, and Lupin himself, at least according to his brother's deduction, ‘unequivocally wanted the place to remain looking like a disaster zone at all times’ (Regulus winced upon hearing that - Lupin's way of doing things was a far cry from Sirius, who thrived in neat and orderly environments he created himself. It was easy to see how such factors could cause a mess of trouble between the two).
His friend’s discontentment put Sirius on the defensive, meaning their civil conversation quickly morphed into a contemptuous shouting match. When Lupin tried to walk away, Sirius… who possesses enough self-awareness to acknowledge he’s bad at recognizing when to let things go (especially in the heat of the moment)… grabbed his arm to prevent him from leaving. In response, the taller boy wheeled around and punched him in the face; Sirius then shoved Lupin, and they were on the precipice of an all out brawl when Potter overheard the commotion from the Common Room. The Chaser barged in and tore them apart, which led to Lupin wrecking the room in a fit of pique, before storming out without another word.
Of course, Potter inquired as to what happened between the two, but Sirius shook his head, too caught up in his emotions to speak. James Potter, a Hufflepuff in lion’s clothing (Regulus’s conclusion, not his brother’s), then deemed it a wise decision to rapidly approach his capricious friend for a hug … Sirius flinched away from the touch, something he believed ‘most assuredly’ offended his best mate. However, since Potter also can't bloody recognize when to let things go (again, Regulus’s conclusion, not his brother’s), he timidly asked if he could help restore the room to its original condition; Sirius, who remains unaccustomed to genuine concern being shown towards him (‘from anyone besides my blood brother’, he quickly clarified) and thus, lacks the knowledge of how to properly respond, screamed at Potter to leave him alone, going so far as to throw a broken candle holder in his direction.
It was then, when the echo of the slammed door faded, and he was left alone in the unnatural silence of the dorm, that Sirius realized he ‘monumentally fucked up’. Unable to remain in the destroyed room any longer, he fled to ‘the only person who’s ever understood me’. Taken aback by that, Regulus softly conceded he’s never necessarily understood Sirius, but he accepted all of his quirks because they’re what make him… well, him.
"I'm sure you've worked it out for yourself by now," Regulus murmured when Sirius took a moment to gather himself, "but I don't think Potter's mad at you."
"He should be, but he's daft."
Well, he wasn't going to hear any disagreement from Regulus on that!
“You didn’t defend yourself against Lupin," the younger teen whispered, his eyes watching his brother's expression. "You hadn’t a single defensive wound on you.”
Sirius grimaced and glanced away. “I was furious, I was confused that my ‘good deed’ did nothing except upset him, I was so fucking embarrassed to have cocked everything up, again. But I… I didn’t want to hurt him, not really, and I think a part of me recognized I deserved what he was doing to me.”
Regulus had internally bristled at that, because while they were both wrong, Lupin should never have put his hands on Sirius! That is NOT how a couple handles their differences, even in the Black family. But to avoid upsetting his brother further, Regulus swallowed his rage and inquired about that afternoon.
Lupin and Sirius were always Potions partners, so he’d been looking forward to speaking one-on-one with the other Gryffindor for the first time since their row started - forced proximity and all. But prior to the start of the lesson, Lupin arranged to work with some Slytherin girl in their year; when Sirius meekly mentioned that they were always partners, ever since first year, Lupin didn’t bother to look at him when he retorted with, “Change is good, Black, isn’t that what you said to me last week? Or is that only when you’re the one doing the changing?”
By the end of the tale, Regulus was already peeved by what he learned, but then to his horror, it got worse, so much worse. Because when he next glanced over at Sirius, tears were silently cascading down his cheeks, tears that he tried to angrily brush away when he noticed the younger boy looking. Regulus unconsciously made a pained noise at the sight; he hated the times when his older brother, who was always so strong and so incredibly brave, cried because the world was determined to be unfair to him.
Usually, it was a challenge for Regulus to comfort Sirius (or anyone really), since he had an unfortunate habit of unintentionally making things worse. But last night, he reacted instinctively, pulling his brother into a tight embrace. It took Sirius a moment to process the reversal of roles, but when he did, he buried his face into Regulus’s shoulder and sobbed his heart out, the Slytherin’s thoughts darkening with each insecurity that fell from his brother’s normally confident lips, especially the ones that weren’t said outright.
It was the first time in memory that Sirius's sleep-mumbled words were decipherable, something Regulus prays never happens again.
The next morning, a Saturday, Sirius elects to stay in bed rather than face the Great Hall. Regulus doesn’t argue too much, just enough to avoid raising his brother’s suspicions.
Hurrying to the Common Room, he's grateful to find his cousins already there. They usually don’t wait for him, but sharing a room with his brother means Regulus wakes up early every single fucking day, regardless if classes are in session (it’s likely a result of the better rest he’s getting, but he’s content with them thinking it’s a combination of Sirius’s freaky internal alarm clock + his obnoxious need for external entertainment).
Regulus isn’t like his peers, he doesn’t gossip, but he genuinely might combust if he’s required to keep this information to himself… of course, he’ll only discuss it with trusted sources, but two of those four individuals, Evan & Barty, are still sound asleep.
“No Siri this morning?” Andromeda asks, sitting with her sister on the most coveted couch in the Common Room.
Narcissa frowns, sensing the nettled mood beneath his neutral mask. “What’s the matter, Regulus? Did he… has he -”
“He's still in my bed.” Lightly grabbing her sleeve, Regulus leads the girls to the far corner of the room. Without prompting, Andromeda casts a charm to ensure they won’t be overheard by anyone passing by - good, because he can physically feel the fury he bottled up last night rising to the surface, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep his voice down. “Last night, he told me what happened… everything.”
Andromeda sighs, sharing a look with her sister. “Alright, how bad is it?”
Awful, horrific, foul, deplorable, rage inducing, bad-enough-to-make-me-spend-the-entire-night-plotting-murder.
Taking a deep breath, Regulus reminds himself that Blacks, at least those who aren’t rebellious heirs to their family name, don’t cause scenes in public spaces. “It was Lupin.”
The brunette doesn’t react, but Narcissa’s lips part in surprise. “Lupin?! I mean, I knew they were at odds, but I assumed Sirius started a scuffle with someone else after their spat. He's normally so… nice and calm.” Regulus is stunned by her response - did she not overhear his conversation with Potter last week when he was fishing for information?
She misreads his perplexed look. “He’s sometimes in the Hospital Wing when I’m shadowing Madam Pomfrey. I cannot fathom him being so violent, the damage he did to Sirius’s face…” Narcissa trails off, looking uncomfortable.
“Yes, well apparently, calm-and-polite-Lupin went ballistic because Sirius was in one of his crazed organize-all-the-things moods while he was in the Hospital Wing, again, for unknown reasons.” Regulus stares at Narcissa, but she gazes stonily back, unwilling to disclose what the Gryffindor is ‘sick’ with… of course, that’s assuming she even knows. “I guess unpacking his trunk was a cardinal sin or something.”
“Do you think I’m cursed, Reg?”
“What do you mean?”
“Am I destined to ruin everything I touch?”
“You haven’t ruined anything.”
“Regulus, you of all people should know by now how I always ruin everything.”
Narcissa raises an eyebrow. “Wait, he punched Sirius in the face… repeatedly… because he was miffed that Sirius went through his things to put them away? Even though their friend group seems to lack any sort of proper boundaries to begin with?”
Regulus nods tightly. “Hit him and destroyed their entire room, wrecking all of Sirius’s hard work in less than a minute. They’ve had squabbles over the years because Lupin is excessively messy, almost to an unnatural degree, according to Sirius. Potter and the-other-one have bent to my brother’s will of order and organization, but Lupin has steadfastly held his ground.”
“Do you think I’m self-sabotaging? Like I subconsciously don’t think I deserve happiness or something, so I destroy any chance I have at it?”
“Well, I don’t think he should have attacked Sirius for something so insignificant, but given their history, Sirius should know by now to not go through his things.” Andromeda holds a hand up in response to their indignant expressions. “We’re family, we’re used to Sirius and the way he is, but other people aren’t, nor are they… or any of us, truthfully… required to bow to his every whim.”
“Reg, be honest, what’s wrong with me?”
“There’s nothing wrong -"
“Don’t lie, if there wasn’t anything wrong with me, then people wouldn’t insist I act as someone I’m not. No one ever wants the real me, not for long, anyways.”
Shaking his head, Regulus strains to maintain an even tone, not wishing to offend either of his cousins. “But you know how Sirius gets when his room isn’t organized… actually, maybe you don’t know the extent of it, but he literally cannot handle being in a messy room for too long, especially if he’s forbidden from fixing it up. And before you say it, I don’t think it’s something he can easily get over, either.”
“Remember when they stayed with us for that one Easter?” Narcissa asks her sister. “I thought he was going to have a fit when Mother showed them to their room.”
“He did, actually.” After talking Sirius out of his poorly thought-out plan to sneak out the window and call the Knight Bus, Regulus then spent two nights helping him tidy up the room until it met his ‘bare minimum standards’. Truthfully, Regulus believed they were placed there on purpose - even he could tell that particular guest room needed an overhaul, and it was during that hellish month where Mother banned her eldest from engaging in those ‘undignified’ behaviors (hence their work being completed while they should have been fast asleep… thank Merlin for naps). “I think sometimes he can ignore it, but when he’s stressed about other things, his surroundings have a heavy impact on his overall wellbeing.” He meets their gazes. “But the main problem is, it was Lupin who did it.”
“He’s right to be mad at me, you know. I never listen to anything anyone tells me, and I constantly put my wants and desires first. I’d be lucky if he ever spoke to me again, even if it was just to pass the salt.”
Initially, he’s unsure if they’ll understand the significance of what he means, but after sharing another look, both girls wince. “Besides avoiding the issue at the present moment, where is he with the whole thing?”
“Mother always knew… destined to be a disappointment.”
“He thinks it’s his fault!” Regulus hisses, his hands clenching into fists when he remembers some of the more distressing things Sirius mumbled during the night. He tried to turn over and fall asleep, he truly did. It felt invasive listening to his brother’s sleep-mutterings, almost like he was reading Sirius’s diary without permission - if Sirius even kept a diary that is (he didn't before Hogwarts... younger- Regulus was horrendously nosy, he’d have known if it existed). But sleep evaded him, so Regulus heard everything. Needless to say, it was not a pleasant night. “He thinks he deserves Lupin’s ire, and he’s convinced Lupin wants nothing to do with him anymore.”
Narcissa’s mouth forms a straight line. “Obviously, we’ll need to get Lupin to apologize first.”
“Let’s discuss it after breakfast,” Andromeda says, ending the muffling spell around them. “We’re going to need a full stomach and plenty of caffeine to solve this mess.”
Under normal circumstances, Regulus would say he holds true to Slytherin’s core values; he’s cunning, ambitious, and he possesses too much self-preservation to be reckless. But when he spots Remus Lupin walking down the last set of stairs into the Entrance Hall, all of those Slytherin values go flying out the window.
See, if there’s one particular thing in the world that Regulus knows exceptionally well, it’s this - hatred.
His foray into true hatred, of hating a specific person rather than a group of unknown people (Muggles, blood traitors, Muggleborns, etc), began at the ripe age of ten years old, when Sirius’s letters during his first year at Hogwarts became fewer and fewer, the handful sent filled with nothing except how exciting it was to be away from home (to be away from him, Regulus, his brother, unsaid but read between the lines).
The physical manifestations of hatred, like the tenseness of his muscles and grinding of his teeth, became regular occurrences for him when Sirius returned to Grimmauld Place for Christmas that same year, climbing into Regulus’s bed every night to whisper stories about his adventures with his three Gryffindor mates, while never once asking Regulus how he was faring after being left behind, never once saying he wished Regulus was there too.
He learned the intricacies of hatred, how all-encompassing it can be, how it feels like a slow-acting poison spreading throughout his body, burning him from the inside out, when they arrived at Platform 9 ¾ the next year, and the moment the train pulled out of the station, Sirius pawned Regulus off on their cousins so he could run off to join his friends without the burden of his little brother weighing him down.
His internal capacity for hatred, of the amount of enmity he could hold in his heart, grew exponentially when Sirius walked by him a handful of weeks after their falling out, his arm slung over Potter’s shoulder, the older boys laughing and joking without a care in the world, passing by Regulus like he didn’t exist, like he never existed.
Hatred became his constant companion the following year when he tried to check on Sirius after he received a brutal Howler from Mother in front of the entire Great Hall but couldn’t, his brother’s friends forming a protective barrier around him, preventing them from speaking… then, Potter got in Regulus’s face, warning him to leave Sirius alone, to leave his brother alone, because Sirius wants nothing to do with any of that ‘blood purity nonsense’.
And just last year, hatred nearly got the better of him when he was in the Hospital Wing with a major concussion after a Quidditch incident, which meant he got to watch from the farthest end of the room as Sirius worriedly entered the ward with Potter, got to watch as his brother fussed and fawned over his friend because of a fucking stomach ache, got to watch as Sirius left minutes later without even looking in his direction, despite Regulus being his real brother and in the Hospital Wing due to a legitimate medical issue.
Regulus is familiar with the tumultuous feeling in the pit of his stomach when he hears that particular person speak, the fiery flames coursing through his veins anytime they cross his thoughts, the way his vision tunnels when they’re in the same room, leaving them and only them in his line of sight.
And Regulus does know hatred where James Potter is concerned (as much as he tried to hate Sirius, his brother, his own flesh and blood, he could never crawl out of the pit of anger/frustration/hurt he fell into at the age of ten, which ultimately prevented him from reaching the 'legitimate hatred' stage).
But as Regulus watches Lupin stoically walk behind the Chaser, sees a brief flicker of emotion on his face when he notices the three Blacks in the Entrance Hall, observes the way his green eyes scan the area for the fourth one, probably intending to make a show of ignoring him, witnesses how Lupin’s nose wrinkles when his eyes connect with Regulus’s own.
Oh, Regulus thinks.
It’s all quite simple, really.
Sirius chose Potter, and Potter makes Sirius happy. That’s a hard potion for Regulus to swallow, but at least Potter is good to his brother.
Sirius chose Lupin, and Lupin threw that back in his face.
Regulus, who wasn’t chosen, who would never throw away a relationship with his brother if he got a second chance, cannot fathom how someone chosen by Sirius could then turn around and hurt him in such a vicious way.
Regulus knew hatred for a long time, it’s true.
But now?
Now… now he knows what it means to loathe someone, to detest them down to his very core, to abhor the mere sight of them, to be repulsed and disgusted by the sound of their name alone.
There’s no slow burning this time, no more smoldering flames.
It’s a violent, volcanic eruption, an explosion of blazing lava ignited by pure undiluted fury that seeks to incinerate anything and everything in its way.
“Bad son… brother… friend… not good enough... never enough.”
“Regulus, don’t!” Andromeda warns, but his Seeker reflexes allow him to dodge the hand reaching for his arm.
“Baby Black!” Potter calls brightly, the first to notice him. He’s probably wearing that ridiculously charming smile again, but Regulus is too focussed on his target to check. “To what do we owe the pleasure on this lovely morning?” The cheeriness in his voice suddenly disappears. “Er… Regulus? Regulus, what’s wrong, is everything okay?”
“He should have hit me harder, Reggie, I deserved much worse than I got for disrespecting his boundaries like that.”
In lieu of a verbal response, Regulus’s fist violently connects with the side of Remus Lupin’s stupid pretentious face, and he gets a perverse sort of pleasure from Potter’s horrified gasp and Pettigrew’s girlish scream. “That is for having the audacity to put your disgusting hands on my brother.”
“Should leave… wouldn’t be missed.”
Regulus lands another punch to Lupin’s face, followed by a brutal kick to his shins. “And THAT is for making my brother cry, you worthless prick!”
“Not worth loving… not by him… no one.”
Unfortunately, as his Slytherin side would have pointed out if he bothered to listen, Remus Lupin is indeed more than a head taller than him. And if he stopped to ponder how someone so weak and frail could have done such extensive damage to Sirius’s face, he would have correctly concluded that Remus Lupin is, in fact, not weak or frail in the slightest.
Because he didn't listen, Regulus learns this particular lesson the hard way.
Shaking off his stupor, Lupin tackles him to the ground, and Regulus's head slams jarringly against the stone, leaving him dazed. Over the years, he's been in a few scuffles with his brother, but 95% of them were of the playful variety. And as Lupin’s fist slams into his jaw, then his nose, Regulus soon learns another painful truth - Sirius went easy on him during the remaining 5% of those tussles.
Remus Lupin, of no relation to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, does not go easy on him, not by a long shot. But Regulus’s blinding rage proves to be excellent fuel, and he gives as good as he gets… for the most part.
“GET THE FUCK OFF OF HIM!” a familiar voice shouts, and he’s grateful when the heavy weight pinning him to the ground is forcefully removed. “HE'S JUST A FUCKING KID, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"
Potter, of all people, helps Regulus gingerly sit up, then chivalrously hands him a clean handkerchief for his bleeding nose… and lip… and the cut above his eyebrow.
“Not sure how you managed to mix up Remus and Smith,” Potter mutters, giving him a pointed look. Upon (correctly) concluding Regulus has no intention of explaining his motives, he places a finger under the Slytherin’s chin and gently tilts his face to get a better view of his wounds. “As you've seen firsthand, I’m decent at healing charms, so I can fix some of it… um, if you want?”
Nodding his consent, Regulus closes his eyes, too disoriented to care that he’s allowing his nemesis to point a wand at his face. Potter swiftly heals his lip and eyebrow, but deems it best to leave his nose to a professional; the Gryffindor claims it’s likely broken, and while Regulus disagrees, he decides not to argue in case it’s only wishful thinking on his part.
“Thank you,” the Slytherin whispers hoarsely, already feeling a brutal headache coming on.
Opening his eyes again, he finds Lupin and Sirius standing almost nose-to-nose, glaring daggers at one another, while Narcissa and Andromeda work to dispel the crowd of students who gathered to watch the fight.
“That ‘kid’ of yours hit me first,” Lupin grits out. “Without provocation.”
Surprise flickers across Sirius’s expression, but it’s quickly replaced by fury. “So what, Remus, you just thought you’d pummel Regulus into the Entrance Hall in retaliation, is that it?!”
“I won’t apologize for defending myself, Black.”
Gray eyes so similar to Regulus’s own cloud with hurt at the use of their surname. But then red splotches of color start crawling up Sirius’s neck, the telltale sign of an approaching rant.
“Oh bollocks, you weren’t defending yourself! You have a problem with me, and you decided you’d rather take it out on Regulus because you KNOW how I feel about people messing with my brother -”
The taller boy raises his hand while Sirius shrieks at him, probably to dab at the blood trickling down from his nose, or the fresh, deep scratches marring his cheeks and neck, but it’s impossible to miss the way Sirius flinches at the action.
Lupin suddenly looks stricken. “Sirius, no -”
“What on Earth is going on here?!” McGonagall demands.
Regulus startles, swearing the Transfiguration teacher materialized out of nowhere, and then groans when the abrupt movement causes his head to throb.
Her eyes dart around, taking in the standoff between Lupin and Sirius, Andromeda and Narcissa hovering in the background with Pettigrew, and Regulus, who’s still on the ground with Potter crouched next to him. He didn’t realize until right then that Potter was still holding onto his bruised and bloodied fingers, the Gryffindor only letting go when McGonagall sends him a suspicious look. After a quick inspection of the damage to his hand, Regulus is fairly certain nothing is broken. One thing he is sure of, though? That most, if not all, of the blood underneath his fingernails belongs to Lupin… he makes a mental note to borrow a bottle of Sirius’s most potent cleaning solvent to dip his fingers in later, because, ew.
Sirius moves to stand in front of his Head of House. “It’s my fault, Professor.”
The Deputy Headmistress isn’t looking at Regulus, but her shrewd gaze makes him want to melt into the floor regardless. He’s blown away by how Sirius stands tall, unflinchingly meeting her eyes and wearing an expression the Slytherin is painfully familiar with - it’s the one he sports when he’s in (yet another) heated battle of wills against their mother.
“While that is usually the case, Mr. Black, we both know it is not in this instance,” she remarks disapprovingly. “And as you are well aware of by now, I do not condone lying… ten points from Gryffindor.”
Regulus actually does shrink back when she turns her glare on him. The instinctual response causes him to bump into Potter, who for some inexplicable reason, is still seated on the ground. Shame twists in his gut when the older teen shifts away from the contact... though it disappears as quickly as it comes when he realizes Potter was merely readjusting his position to something more comfortable. Sirius keeps trying to catch his eye around the Transfiguration professor, but Regulus refuses to look in his direction. His entire body hurts, okay? If Potter wants to put his muscular shoulder to good use, acting as a pillar for Regulus to lean against, then more power to him! Besides, it’s the same shoulder Regulus popped back into place last weekend, so fair is fair.
“Mr. Black, you will serve two weeks worth of detentions for brawling in the corridor. Mr. Lupin and Mr. Potter will be joining you.”
Head bowed to avoid the possibility of her thinking he’s challenging her authority, Regulus cackles internally. Two weeks worth of detentions for knocking that superior expression right off Lupin’s face is so worth it, and to get Potter - who doesn’t bother defending himself since he recognizes the fruitlessness of the endeavor - in trouble too? C'est magnifique.
Behind him, Potter clears his throat. “Apologies for the interruption, but to clarify, these detentions will all be served together, correct?”
McGonagall doesn’t answer right away, probably trying to decide which answer her pupil wants to hear, so she can choose the opposite. “That is correct, Mr. Potter.”
She then goes off on a spiel Regulus half tunes out, something about learning to get along with students from other houses, and how prefects, including those who wish to one day hold the position, should set better examples, blah blah blah - it only makes his headache worse.
When the Gryffindor Head of House turns her attention to Sirius and Lupin, Potter leans impossibly close, his breath tickling Regulus’s ear. “A whole two weeks together… personally, I’m looking forward to it.”
Leave it to James Potter to be ecstatic about a set of detentions he received without actually doing anything worthwhile to earn them.
Salazar, kill him now. “Oh, joy.”
“Aw, don’t be like that… we never get to hang out, just us. It’s gonna be fun!”
It’s going to be fun, sure, if one’s idea of fun is being tortured for several hours a day over a two-week period.
Regulus almost asks Potter why he would want to hang out with him in the first place, but since the response likely wouldn’t be truthful, he saves his breath… he’s probably dying to be mean to Regulus without Sirius around as a witness. “May I remind you, it won’t be ‘just us’.”
Potter grumbles something under his breath about, ‘Moony needs to be in detention with Sirius, not us’.
McGonagall isn’t through doling out punishments, though, and her next words have Regulus’s head jerking up to gape at her. “In addition to your detentions, I will be writing to your parents about this indiscretion once I return to my office.”
Oh merde.
Regulus has never been in trouble at Hogwarts before, whereas his brother is the one who constantly gets letters sent home. It's a high probability that Sirius and Potter, his chief partner in mischief, are well on their way to setting a record for the most detentions ever earned… of course, that’s assuming they haven’t already reached the milestone. But Regulus’s previously spotless record won't make a difference in the eyes of their parents; Walburga and Orion Black will not react well to this incident.
It’s uncertain which part will be worse in their eyes - the fact that Regulus was fighting in the corridor like a common Muggle, the fact that his ‘revenge’ wasn’t sneaky, planned, or even remotely clever, the fact that he was defending Sirius, his older brother, in a manner similar to how Sirius would defend the younger (i.e. reckless and impulsive), or the fact that he was defending Sirius after his secret Halfblood boyfriend assaulted him. Obviously, he won’t out his brother, but he’s positive they’ll work out the intricacies of the situation for themselves. It’s unfortunately quite likely that they’ve already heard rumors regarding Sirius and Lupin being involved from someone else.
“No!” Sirius cries, aghast. “Please, please don’t write to them. Regulus didn’t do anything wrong.” She makes a disbelieving noise, and he throws his hands in the air. “Okay, fine, Reg shouldn’t have been fighting, but he thought he was defending me. He was just being a good brother, Professor, that’s all.” Regulus’s heart skips a beat at the compliment, but then he furiously reminds himself Sirius only said it to get him out of trouble. “Like I said in the beginning, this incident is my fault. I’ll take his punishment instead, twice as much, but please don’t write to our parents about him.”
Lowering his aching head back down, he wills the tears collecting in his eyes to evaporate before he can humiliate himself further. The thought of Sirius getting in trouble for Regulus's own actions is uncomfortable, but he doesn’t want their parents informed either. In all honesty, Sirius’s plan would benefit them both; if their parents were informed of Regulus’s misdeed, Mother would lay the blame fully on her eldest son, which would then lead Father to decree they both must be punished. Two weeks of detention at Hogwarts is a much lighter sentence than whatever their parents would insist upon.
It’s so fucked up to suddenly start listening to his self-preservation instincts again, when it’s undeniably selfish, when it means Sirius takes the fall for him for the umpteenth time… but what choice does Regulus have?
Potter gently places a hand on his back, but the Slytherin shakes him off - he doesn’t deserve comfort, he deserves to suffer. Hopefully, it’ll serve as a reminder for him to make better choices in the future, to think, rather than simply react.
The Gryffindor Head of House doesn’t speak for what feels like eternity, but there must be something in her student's tone or his pleading expression that causes her to relent. “Sirius, you will serve the two weeks worth of detentions with your brother, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Lupin. Additionally, I will hold off on writing any letters for now.”
Sirius beams, nodding his head vigorously, while Regulus almost throws his arms around Potter, so incredibly pleased by the reversal. But that would be… too much, so instead, they share a small smile, one Regulus hopes conveys his gratitude for Potter’s assistance, while also apologizing for the moments where he was unnecessarily rude. It’s unclear if his message was accurately communicated, but Potter’s teasing wink makes it seem as if he’s forgiven.
“But if I catch any of you fighting again, it’ll be a month’s worth of detentions and an in-person conference with your parents, do I make myself clear?”
She’s met with a chorus of, ‘Yes, Professor McGonagall’.
“I am very disappointed in you, Mr. Black,” McGonagall remarks solemnly moments later. “Attacking a student of another house right after your inspiring speech regarding inter-house unity doesn’t reflect well on your message, now, does it?”
At this point, Regulus’s head is pounding relentlessly, the pain too great to be masked by the nearly-depleted burst of adrenaline he got during the fight with Lupin, so there’s an awkward beat of silence before he realizes she’s speaking to him.
“Oh! Um, I didn’t punch him because he’s a…” Wait, what is Lupin again? It’s impossible to think with the excruciating pain in his head, his face… his whole body, really. “Of a different house.”
“Is that so?”
He starts to nod, but then immediately stops because it makes his headache worse. “I hit him because he’s a…” Hmmm, he needs a word that encompasses the full magnitude of how despicable Lupin is, yet despite his extensive vocabulary, Regulus cannot think of anything sufficient.
All of that changes when the green and silver lining of his robe catches his eye, the answer coming to him at once. It’s a word he heard for the first time during a confrontation in the Common Room yesterday, one that garnered shocked, offended gasps from nearly everyone when it was spoken.
Yes, that’ll do, he thinks excitedly.
Regulus raises his head, meeting Professor McGonagall’s gaze head on. “I hit Lupin because he’s a cunt.”
The reaction he receives isn’t as intense as it was in the Common Room, but that’s probably because there are less people around; going by individual reactions, though, he got his point across.
Good.
There are several cries of “Regulus!” and one “Mr. Black! ” echoing through the hall, a few gasps, and someone’s choked cough next to him.
A fluffy orange cat walking by catches his attention, leading Regulus to briefly get lost in his head, struggling to remember if he fed Wrath this morning… oh Merlin, is he even supposed to feed her? Is that his job or Evan’s? Fuck, he’s going to be such a terrible parent, maybe he should just make the executive decision to not have kids, Sirius can continue their family line -
There’s a tap on his shoulder. Regulus shrugs the hand off, annoyed that someone has the gall to interrupt him in the midst of his internal crisis. The hand is persistent though, and when the Slytherin refocuses again, he blinks several times, thinking his vision is acting wonky, but nope, Sirius’s face is inches from his own.
“Hullo, Siri.”
The older boy blocks the bright lights of the hallway with his bulk, which is awfully kind of him. He’s such a good big brother, Regulus is so undeserving.
“Regulus,” his brother says seriously… heh, Sirius is serious. “Do you know what that word means?”
“What word?”
The older boy frowns. “You know… the c-word.”
Regulus’s eyes narrow… has Sirius become a Legilimens and didn’t tell him? That’s so bloody unfair. “Cat?”
His brother shakes his head and opens his mouth to say something, before deciding against it; he leans forward and whispers the word into Regulus’s ear.
“Oh, yes, that’s right. Lupin is a cunt.” Regulus rubs the back of his head in thought, tuning out the noise around him. When he touches a spot that sends a sharp, shooting pain through his skull, he quickly drops his hand back down. “Nope. Heard it yesterday, haven’t researched. Seemed bad. Fitting. Hence, cunt.”
There’s another commotion at that, but the stars in front of his eyes are more interesting to look at. He thinks they might be attempting to show him new, previously undiscovered constellations.
“Regulus.”
“Hm?”
“Where did you hear that word?”
“Uh…” He glances sideways to where Andromeda and Narcissa are standing, but he can’t read what they’re trying to silently tell him. Mother looks irritated, like she thinks Sirius has done something bad, so he should probably clear the air. “Someone said it to Andie in the big room, because she consorts with…” oh bollocks, he can’t remember the exact word, oops, “those honey puff people. The nice ones, though, not the mean ones. She has taste. Obviously.”
Sirius turns around to say something to Mother, and she nods sharply.
“Please escort your brother to the Hospital Wing, if you would. He’s quite unwell.”
“I’m fine, Mother,” Regulus responds in a rush, not wanting to appear weak in front of his older brother or his friends… that are at their house for some reason he can’t recall.
Admittedly, he’s a tad offended by her dubious expression. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
Regulus struggles not to squint or shield his eyes, the lights blinding when his brother shifts to the side. “Three," he answers confidently.
Standing regally next to the Mother, Sirius's voice is cold when he addresses Regulus. “Not quite, brother dearest.” Stepping forward, he extends his hand.
But Regulus unconsciously scrambles back, half-climbing onto the person behind him, his gaze lowered to the ground. “I’m sorry, Siri.”
It’s like he’s eleven-years-old again, freshly sorted into Slytherin. All of his new housemates are clapping, none more so than his cousins, and there’s some half-hearted applause from the other three tables. Handing McGonagall the Sorting Hat, Regulus unintentionally scans the Gryffindor table, unsure what he expects to find, but still shocked to see Sirius staring at him with the most disappointed expression Regulus swears to this day he’s ever seen on anyone’s face, not just his brother’s.
“What are you going on about?” Sirius questions gruffly. “Regulus, if you don’t let me help you, James is going to be the one to do it.”
Someone lightly touches his waist, making him jump.
“Unhand me, you oafish swine!” Regulus growls, whipping around to give the Neanderthal that dared touch him, in a ticklish spot no less, a piece of his mind. “Do you know who I am?!”
“I do, actually,” the person grins. “And I promise not to drop you, Baby Black.”
The words are incomprehensible to Regulus, because without warning, his mind goes blank, wiped clean like someone used an overpowered Obliviate. Intending to turn around to lecture the vermin called ‘James’, he’s instead presented with something so inexplicably stunning, an entity so utterly captivating and ethereal, he can hardly comprehend its divine beauty.
The breath is stolen right out of his lungs, but Regulus doesn’t care. He never wants to look away.
“Oh… so pretty.”
The keeper of the exquisite trinket blinks rapidly, an action that frustrates Regulus because it makes the enchanting sight harder to properly gaze upon. “Er… me?”
“No.” There’s laughter all around him, but he’s not sure why, nor does he care to learn. He lowers his voice to hardly a whisper. “D-did… did you know?”
“Know what?”
“There are galaxies,” Regulus murmurs shakily, overcome with emotion; he mentally thanks the Fates for this life-changing experience.
A pair of luscious lips quirks up. “I think I did know -”
“In your eyes.”
“Oh.” The eyes in question widen, and then look up. “Well, he’s most certainly your brother, I mean… what a line.”
Regulus tries to lean closer to get a better look, but there’s a tension on the back of his robe preventing him from doing so.
“Mr. Black!” a stern voice calls above the other sounds around him.
The restraint loosens, and with a disappointed sigh, Regulus looks away from the glittering galaxies. He then spots Mother standing a short distance away from him, looking positively bereft, with a hand over her mouth like she’s attempting to hide her distress from her youngest son’s view.
“Mother!” Regulus calls, frightened by how troubled she looks, but since Sirius and Father aren’t here, it’s up to him to console her. “Mother, don’t fret, Sirius will come home, Uncle Alphie swore they won’t stop searching until they find him.” She doesn’t seem reassured, so he tries harder. “Uncle Gio said the werewolves… pardon, his French associates, will find Siri, no matter where the bad people took him, even if they hid him amongst the Muggles. And Grandfather said Siri will likely find a way to free himself because he’s ‘occasionally intelligent’, and Father said the bad men will return him the moment they mistakenly allow him to open his mouth. He’ll be alright. Mother, you’ll see, I… I solemnly swear it.”
Narcissa appears in front of him before Mother can retort. Attempting to crawl away from her, Regulus makes it a short distance before hearing his brother mutter, “I don’t think so, mister.” Again, a hand grabs onto the back of his robe, putting an end to his escape plan. His cousin circles him with her wand held aloft, and within seconds, the mind-numbing pressure in his head is reduced.
Sirius crouches down in front of him. “Reg… may I help you up?”
The younger teen lifts his nose in the air. “You may not.”
Potter comes out of nowhere and nudges Sirius to the side. “Why are you on the floor like a peon?” He holds his hand out. “What would your parents think if they saw you right now?”
Regulus doesn’t know the answer to the first question, but he definitely knows the answer to the second.
“Thanks,” he grunts, accepting Potter’s hand up and staunchly ignoring Sirius’s baffled expression - it’s very common knowledge that Regulus can’t stand his brother’s chosen brother, after all.
Ah, yes, it all comes rushing back to him. Sirius is upset because he received two weeks worth of detentions due to his younger brother’s impulsive decision to fight his maybe-boyfriend (hopefully ex-boyfriend)?... a choice that also resulted in Regulus getting his arse kicked. Meaning, he requires assistance getting to the Hospital Wing… not because he couldn’t find it on his own, of course, but Regulus can admit he’s currently in no condition to defend himself from anyone looking for trouble.
Now, he must decide between the lesser of two evils; weather Potter’s dark looks and muttered scorn, two things the Slytherin always matches him tit for tat on, or endure his brother’s passive-aggressive resentment. Granted, Potter looks uncommonly chipper at the present moment, but Regulus is sure that’s only because a teacher is around… alright fine, he’s been strangely semi-friendly since last semester, a change that Regulus initially assumed was a ruse, though the older boy has held onto it ever since (playing the long game, no doubt).
But to see Sirius’s annoyed expression whenever he looks at Regulus, well… he dealt with that for two and a half years - he’d rather do without that again, thanks.
Notes:
Hehe, I love protective little brother Regulus, he does not get enough attention.
(Alsooo, as an American, I'm not 100% sure if the 'c-word' is as frowned upon in Britain as it is here. But it's a wizarding boarding school, so I'm gonna roll with it being all *gasp* terrible).
(( I LOVE Remus, and while I'm wary of spoiling anything, I promise that we will get a better explanation for his behavior later in the story ))
Chapter 8: An Unfortunate Truth Leads to a Long Overdue Explanation
Notes:
Lots of feelings in this chapter!
Chapter Text
“Oh dearie, you’re alright… no, Siri, relax, I got him. Don’t hover like that, it’s stressful,” Potter mutters after Regulus sways the moment he’s upright.
The Chaser’s arm wraps tightly around his waist, and he manhandles Regulus until he’s forced to drape an arm around Potter’s obnoxiously muscular shoulders. His brain is swimming in his skull from all the jostling, and he misses the way his brother, the shining star of their family, blocks the vicious light trying to murder him where he stands. At least he and Potter are essentially the same height; he can’t imagine how uncomfortable this would be if he was stuck with freakishly tall Lupin.
Why can’t Regulus be tall like Father? So bloody unfair, but at least Sirius is likely to be the shortest of them, Mother included.
Regardless of their similar stature, their journey isn’t fun, though thankfully the lights are dimmer in these corridors. Narcissa tapped his head with her wand again before they started walking, so his brain doesn’t hurt as much; Regulus makes a mental note to owl her a gift basket as a token of his appreciation.
Potter, as he’s one to do, ruins the walk before they’ve made it halfway to their destination.
“Hey, Reg -”
“It’s Regulus,” the Slytherin swiftly corrects. “Better yet, Potter, how about you just don’t talk to me at all?”
Potter huffs out a laugh. “Aw, can’t do that, I’d miss these lovely chats of ours too much. Besides, Sirius calls you ‘Reg’.”
“Yes, but are you Sirius?”
“My oh my, you really did take a nasty fall, hmm?” Potter hums, his hazel eyes sparkling, likely in an attempt to further blind Regulus, he’s sure. “I’m James.” He inclines his head over to the opposite side of the hallway where Sirius is walking with his shoulders hunched, flanked by Narcissa and Andromeda who look like they’re scolding him over something. Lupin and Pettigrew are a solid ways ahead of them all. “That’s Sirius, silly.”
Regulus makes an conscious effort to relax his clenched jaw, unwilling to chip a tooth over James fucking Potter and his humor, or rather, lack thereof. “That joke is so old, Potter, you literally make me nauseous with your appalling absence of intelligence.”
“You’re so mean.” To his bewilderment, Potter sounds like Regulus’s malevolence brings him great joy. “But you’re also frighteningly adorable, I’m shocked it took me so long to notice.”
The younger boy’s mouth drops open at the vile remark, and Potter reaches over to place a finger under his chin, pushing it closed. “Now, you listen here, Potter!”
“Yes, yes, moving on… if Sirius is my brother, and he’s also your brother, logic would indicate that we are brothers as well.”
There are only a handful of things in life more unpleasant than the thought of being related to James Potter. “Absolutely not -”
“Meaning,” Potter continues in a louder voice, pausing to grin good-naturedly when the other members of the Black family look over at them in concern. Regulus almost cries when Narcissa misses (or ignores) his wide-eyed pleading glance to rescue him. “Not only do I get to call you Reg, but it’s my brotherly duty to point out an egregiously incorrect conclusion you’ve reached.”
His teeth grind together against his will, and he makes an additional mental note to question Narcissa later about a teeth strengthening potion. “And what conclusion would that be?”
Potter lowers his voice, somehow succeeding in leaning his big head even closer to Regulus. “You know that Sirius and Remus aren’t dating, right?”
Regulus’s heart skips several beats, but then he reviews everything he's seen or learned in the years since Sirius began attending Hogwarts, and scoffs. “Please, Potter, I don’t know how stupid you think I am -”
“I don’t think you’re stupid at all, Regulus,” Potter cuts him off, and the seriousness in his tone, combined with the hardness of his eyes, has Regulus shutting his mouth with a snap. “And I get why you think they are, trust me, I completely understand. But they aren’t dating, they’re not romantically entangled, and there’s been no acknowledgement of more-than-platonic feelings on either side, either to me or to each other… as far as I’m aware.”
Regulus stops walking, and a sudden bout of lightheadedness has him dropping to the ground… or would have, if Potter didn’t possess stellar reflexes.
“Reg… Regulus?!” Potter carefully lowers him to the floor when it becomes clear the Slytherin has no intention of standing on his own again.
If Regulus thought his head was swimming before, now it’s drowning, drowning under the weight of persistent, ruthless thoughts. He should never have attacked Lupin, should never have been presumptuous enough to think Sirius would want his weak little brother to defend him. When has Sirius ever needed Regulus?
Why, why, why is he like this? Why does he always push his brother away, the one person he never wants to let go of? How could he be so stupid to think Sirius would stay this time, so ignorant to believe he wouldn’t do something to fuck their entire relationship up? Again. Lupin’s going to hate Regulus now, if he hadn’t already, and when his rift with Sirius mends, he’ll be right there with Potter reminding Sirius of all the valid reasons he should stay far away from Regulus. If Lupin and Sirius were dating, Regulus would have a leg to stand on to defend his actions, but they aren’t, they’re just friends, so now he looks like some deranged lunatic, ready to attack anyone who slights a Black.
Sirius was wrong earlier; Regulus is the one who’s never been good enough, not for his brother, nor the rest of their family.
A strong pair of arms envelop him, maneuvering him until he’s pressed against a broad chest. The person sits behind him and gently presses his head forward; Regulus brings his knees up to his chest, dropping his forehead down to lightly rest on them.
“Breathe Reggie, there’s a good lad,” Sirius whispers from behind him. Regulus attempts to breathe in through his nose, and when that doesn’t work, through his mouth, but nothing seems to bring the required amount of oxygen into his lungs. Minutes pass like this with no improvement. “What the fuck did you do?!”
“I didn’t -”
"Sorry." Shifting so his chin rests on his knees, Regulus presses his palms against his eyelids, like he can somehow halt the tears threatening to leak out if he uses enough pressure. “I’m sorry!”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Regulus,” Sirius soothingly murmurs, rubbing circles across the expanse of his back.
Regulus knows that’s a lie. He did do something wrong, he always does. He tries so hard to be the little brother Sirius wants, the one he deserves, but he mucks it up, each and every time. Then, Sirius leaves and replaces Regulus with someone else, someone better, which isn’t fair, because he’ll never find a replacement for his older brother, it’s simply not possible. He adores the Prewett twins, who haven't realized yet how rotten Regulus is down to his core, that he’s a plague who ruins everything he touches. They’ll leave one day, of that he’s certain. But for now, he appreciates their support, though they never replaced his blood brother.
Sirius is one of a kind.
“Leave,” the Slytherin hiccups, and then immediately hates himself because that’s not what he meant to say.
“I will not.” It’s baffling how not-affronted Sirius sounds. “You’re spiraling again, little star. Talk to me.”
Regulus again tries to explain himself, begging Sirius to understand he didn’t mean to mess up, even though it’s uncivilized for a Black to engage in such lowly practices. “D-don’t leave, please Siri, I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I swear, I wouldn’t have done it if I knew… please believe me, I didn’t know!”
Sirius lets out a pained noise. “Reggie, no, I’m never leaving you again, you’re stuck with me, baby bro, whether you want to be or not. I’m so fucking sorry for the last few years, I was such a wanker to you, and it’s inexcusable.”
The apology breaks the damn Regulus has been battling to hold back. Sobs wrack his frame, the guilt, shame, and loneliness he’s felt since he ruined everything between them too much to bear. His half-hearted attempts to flee are thwarted when Sirius manhandles him like he weighs nothing, arranging him so they’re face to face, Regulus sitting in his lap. It’s not the most comfortable position… understandable, since the last time they sat like this, Regulus was eight years younger, and below average height. Angling his body slightly to the side, Regulus extends his too-long legs out and then hides his face in Sirius’s shoulder, unwilling to see the exasperated expression his brother is likely sporting.
But Merlin forbid James Potter misses out on a chance to attach himself to Sirius Black. Potter lifts Regulus’s legs up, wiggles his way into the open spot next to the Black heir, and then drops them back down, apparently content with having the younger’s legs draped over his lap if it means he gets a share of Sirius’s attention, too.
Over the sound of his undignified bawling, Regulus hears mention of Narcissa escorting Lupin and Pettigrew to the Hospital Wing, and Potter mumbling something to Sirius about ‘pointing out an unfortunate truth’. Eventually, his tears subside, but Regulus can’t bear to lift his head now, overwrought with shame for his childish emotional display.
“Shhh, it’s alright, Regulus,” Sirius murmurs. “I’m so sorry, I hope one day you can forgive me, but I understand if you… if you can’t.”
“Nothing to f-forgive,” he hiccups, irked when his eyes begin to sting on top of everything else. “I told you to leave. Blimey, Sirius, I was so mean to you, yelling things I’ve never once believed were true, all because I was having a bad week." Month, year, existence, take your pick. "I’m the one who shouldn’t be forgiven, you’ve never done anything to deserve such horrific treatment from me.”
“You only spoke the truth, I forgave you a long time ago. Besides, when have I EVER done something because someone tells me to?” Sirius points out with a snort. “I should have come back, I regretted walking out the moment I left. But when the deities made me, they took a heaping amount of overly sensitive, blended it together with too much pride, then added a spoonful of melodrama, a dash of vindictiveness, and rounded the whole thing off with a sprinkle of pettiness." He ducks his head, his long hair hiding his expression. "It’s just… you no longer needing or wanting me as your big brother was difficult to come to terms with.”
Regulus makes a confused sound (at the second part, because the first? Kinda makes sense, at least in terms of Sirius’s worst qualities). “Excuse me… what?! Where in Merlin’s name did you get such an idea?”
“Look, I’m sorry Sirius," Potter interrupts, his tone taking on a steely edge. "I know you said never to speak of it, but -”
Sirius stiffens. “Meaning we shouldn’t -"
The other Gryffindor raises his voice, talking right over his friend. “Regulus, Sirius owled you THREE times a WEEK our first semester, and you hardly ever wrote back. Your mum wrote more frequently than you did, so of course he’d come to think his little brother wanted nothing to do with him, it’s only logical!”
“That’s… that’s not true!” the Slytherin stammers, gaping at Potter. “I got an owl maybe once a month at first, then after Christmas, three total. And every single letter was all about how great Hogwarts was, how happy Sirius was to be away from me -"
“I did not say that!” Sirius firmly denies.
"But still, I responded with a proper missive every time!”
“If anything, I would have said ‘home’ -“
Regulus rolls his eyes. “Which is where I was!”
“If Regulus never received a majority of these letters,” Andromeda hesitantly interjects, seated on the other side of Sirius, “is it possible your parents were intercepting them?”
“Seems exactly like the sort of rotten thing they’d do!” Potter shouts, though he’s quick to apologize for the outburst when Regulus recoils away from the thunderous sound. “You should confront them -“
Fiddling with a loose string on his brother’s robes, Regulus opens his mouth to defend their parents, but closes it upon reconsideration. They would not have done something so cruel, right? If it was their fault Regulus never received most of his brother’s letters, how could they ever believe such behavior was acceptable? Sirius will always be his brother, regardless of what Hogwarts house he is sorted into, who he chooses to associate with, or what ghastly outfit he wears because 'fashion'.
“Perhaps Narcissa or I can proofread this letter prior to sending it?” their cousin offers.
“Send a Howler!” Potter fervently petitions. “Send a dozen! That’s so bloody appalling, I can’t believe -”
Sirius sighs loudly, his expression morphing into something Regulus can only categorize as ‘resigned’. “They aren’t to blame for once. It was me.” Another weary sigh escapes his lips. “I’m a liar, a coward, an awful brother, and an overall terrible person.”
Err… what?
Andromeda asks what they’re all wondering. “So, you didn’t write Regulus a bunch of letters he never received?”
This theory is subsequently shot down. “No, we saw him writing letters all the time. Used to tease him because they were basically short novels, and none of us could figure out how he always had so much to say with only a handful of days passing between each one.” Potter's brows furrow. “But in retrospect, he’d usually refuse company on the walk to the owlery, except on rare occasions.”
It takes some additional prodding, but Sirius eventually mutters, “I never sent most of them.”
“How come?” Regulus inquires politely, careful to maintain his neutral mask lest he put Sirius on the defensive.
His brother shrugs, refusing to expand on that perplexing statement. If it were just the two of them, Regulus would probably write this off as something he’ll likely never receive a satisfactory answer on, unwilling to send Sirius into a tantrum when they’re actually getting along for once.
But they aren’t alone.
Overcoming his shock, Potter swiftly takes the older Black brother to task. “Sirius, I think we can all agree that at the very least, Regulus deserves an explanation for your lack of correspondence. And personally, I’d like one too, considering you had me, Remus, and Pete convinced your brother was an ‘evil twat’ who wanted nothing to do with you because you were in Gryffindor who didn’t care about blood-purity.”
“No one had to convince me you were a twat, Potter,” Regulus sniffs. “I could tell right away.”
Potter beams at him like a total weirdo, but Sirius finally starts talking before he can make any idiotic comments.
“That’s what I told myself when I didn’t send them,” Sirius admits softly, “that Reg hated me because of my sorting and wouldn’t want to hear from me. And when that wasn’t enough, I’d remind myself Mother would surely be monitoring our communication because she’d be concerned I'd infect her perfect son with my rebellious thoughts. Meaning, I’d have to be careful with what I wrote, which was too much of a hassle.”
To Regulus’s knowledge, Kreacher always delivered his brother’s sparse letters directly to him, so IF their parents ever read their missives, it would have been after Regulus (and considering they never commented on anything Sirius wrote, he doubts they did). But it’s incomprehensible that Sirius could believe Regulus would hate him for being a Gryffindor, when he’s known his entire life how different his brother is from the rest of their family. Sirius being sorted into Slytherin would have been more of a surprise, truthfully.
Andromeda frowns. “There’s more to it, though, I presume?”
“The truth is,” Sirius gazes vacantly over Regulus’s shoulder, posture rigid. “I had a… difficult time that first year, even though James and I got on from the very beginning. A ridiculous number of people spurned me for being a Black, convinced I was secretly a Dark Wizard who tricked my way into Gryffindor. The Slytherins, many of whom were kids we grew up with, hated me for breaking tradition, for being a traitor to my name -”
“Sirius, you hated the lot of them, too!” Andromeda cries, jumping to the defense of their housemates. “Even before your sorting, and they all knew it.”
“Sorry I don’t like being disliked!” He scowls at their cousin, who judgmentally stares back. “Gah, fine, I was overjoyed that most of them ditched their simpering masks and no longer hung around me for my surname. But if you must know, there are a few Slytherins in existence who are borderline decent."
"Like who, besides Regulus, Narcissa, and myself?"
"I loved hanging out with Emma and Ella Rosier when we were younger, but they’ve hardly talked to me since my sorting!" Sirius huffily retorts. "And yes, I do find that upsetting… there, are you happy now, you horrid, horrid woman?!”
“They’re smart enough to stay out of your anti-Slytherin warpath, cousin. I’m sure if you reached out," Andromeda makes a face, "they’d happily go back to toting you around like their favorite fashion accessory.”
Regulus smirks, well aware of the history between the Rosier sisters and the Black sisters; the five girls get along quite well and always have, but oh my is there some resentment there (on both sides, for various reasons, but only one of those is relevant right now). “Green isn’t always a good color on you, Andie.”
“Are you still upset that I hang out with Evan’s sisters whenever we’re dragged to those stuffy events?” Sirius asks bewilderedly, causing their cousin to angrily retort that she’s ‘never been jealous of them for any reason’. “I see you and Cissa all the time comparatively, so of course I'm gonna want to spend time with them whenever I get the chance, they’re the least drab people at those places!” Regulus mentally facepalms… who in their bloody right mind thinks Sirius is good with the female population? “Besides, they always have the juiciest gossip, and I’m a sucker for quality drama.”
Potter deftly avoids the impending shouting match between the two Black cousins, seemingly with ease. “That hasn’t changed,” the Chaser chuckles, clapping his hands together. “Anyways, we’re far off topic, can we please circle back to why you didn’t write to your brother?”
“In my first year, I found that everything was different at Hogwarts,” Sirius continues with a sigh. “Our tutoring put us years ahead, meaning I was bored academically. I was different from my peers, though not in the way I always tried to be at home. Etiquette and social graces were either non-existent or completely foreign to me, so I had to relearn how to conduct myself. People teased me about the way I talked, so then I had to learn a new language.” At that, Potter looks away guiltily. “And all of that might have been manageable, but at the crux of it, I really fucking missed my baby brother, who I’d done everything with up until Hogwarts.”
Oh.
... wait, what?
Andromeda smiles nostalgically. “I sometimes forget how utterly codependent you two were back then.”
“I missed you too, brother,” Regulus confesses, heart in his throat. This conversation has rapidly progressed into unchartered territory, and he's unsure how to proceed. “But I don’t understand why you chose not to confide in me?” Hurt seeps into his voice, in spite of his best efforts to keep it out. “I’m not always that great with words, at least when emotions are involved, but I would have tried my best to be there for you, even if it was from a distance.”
Sirius gently brushes a lock of hair off Regulus’s face. “You’re better than you think you are.” The younger stares unblinkingly at his brother, remembering all the times he attempted to comfort him, only to make the situation worse. “Okay, you try your best, and that’s what counts… but that wasn’t the issue.”
“I… I don’t follow,” Regulus admits when Sirius doesn’t say anything else.
“You see, every time I tried to write to you, I’d tell myself I’d provide the bare minimum of details, so you couldn’t read between the lines and work out for yourself what I wasn’t saying. Except once I started writing, I couldn’t stop. I wanted to tell you everything, the good, the bad, and all that was in between. But if I sent those letters, I worried... I worried that you would finally understand the truth of it all, that you would realize how pathetic and worthless I am, how I had no bloody idea what I was doing, something I know is obvious to you now, likely has been for awhile, but back then, I couldn't bear the thought, Regulus. Older brothers are supposed to be strong -”
“That’s codswallop!” Regulus ferociously interrupts. “You’ve always been the strongest and bravest person I’ve ever known, a belief that has never once wavered.”
Sirius blinks several times, before hesitantly muttering, “And the most beautiful, surely?”
“Sure.”
“Smartest?”
Regulus thinks of Pandora and her vast array of knowledge, how she easily gets him to doubt the truths he previously considered undeniable.
“Don’t push it,” the Slytherin mutters with a playful glare. “I’m not naïve, Sirius, everyone struggles, even you. I would never think less of you for it, nor would I ever, for any reason, believe you’re worthless.”
Because it's me who's worthless.
Sirius rests their foreheads together. “Thanks, Reggie."
“I too wish you had said something,” Andromeda muses, squeezing Sirius’s shoulder. “Bella once said the strangest part of Hogwarts was the lack of shouting, but we would have happily filled that void for you.”
“No way!” Sirius scoffs, as Regulus and Potter chuckle. “I avoided Bella in particular because she reveled in yelling out embarrassing secrets.”
She grimaces. “You have no idea, cousin. But I’m confused as to how this relates to your claim that Regulus replaced you.”
Resisting the urge to point out the hypocrisy of that outrageous claim is so bloody difficult… Sirius replaced Regulus, not the other way around.
“After my sorting, I became more and more convinced that Regulus was growing to hate me. Christmas break only added to that -“
“Excuse you, but I was peeved you never wrote to me!” Regulus cries incredulously, once again stumped by his brother’s thought process. “And you kept going on and on about how fantastic your new best mates were -“
Potter preens. “Aw, I think you’re great, too, Siri.”
Sirius lifts his nose in the air. “Mother made it a point to constantly inform me how much happier you were after my departure. You had a major attitude both times I came home, and during your first year, I kept seeing you with the Prewett twins, who are also Gryffindors. Thus, I reasonably concluded you resented me for reasons other than my sorting, and in fact, probably hated me deep down all this time because I’m an awful brother who makes your life hellacious, hence my intense reaction when you told me to stop fussing over you… it was distressing to be forsaken as your big brother.”
“Merlin and Morgana, I can see why you weren’t sorted into Ravenclaw!” Regulus murmurs after a beat of silence, Sirius squawking at the jibe.
Andromeda shakes her head in dismay. “Dear Merlin, Sirius, I will never understand how your brain operates.”
“Let’s see.” Regulus counts each point on his fingers to ensure he doesn’t forget anything. “One, Mother misspoke,” bit of an understatement, but now is not the time to get Sirius started on a rant about their parents, “how could you honestly have believed I was pleased to have you gone when, like you said, we’d always done everything together? I was -” Devastated is what he wants to say, but the word gets stuck in his throat. “Mother and Father shipped me off to Black Manor that year as often as they could. And the twins only came around so much because they knew I was upset that you abandoned me. Even before our fight, you refused to be seen with me.”
“I genuinely was trying to spare you from our parents’ disapproval if someone reported they saw you associating with the likes of me.”
“They can disapprove all they want, even now!" Regulus cries. "You’re my brother, I don’t... I don't give a hippogriff's arse what they have to say about it." He ignores their shocked muttering at his crass language. "Besides, we both know that Grandmother will tell them off if they get really unbearable. She'll likely just say I could end up being a good influence on you or something.”
With a sheepish look, Sirius wraps him up in a suffocating hug. “I’m sorry for all of it, Reggie, I got lost in my head.”
“I’ll say!” Potter mumbles under his breath.
Regulus closes his eyes. He missed this sort of affection; his friends are amazing, but it’s still not the same as his brother. “S’okay.”
But Sirius, stubborn as he is, doesn’t allow the younger Slytherin to avoid the original topic of his distress for much longer. “Now that we’ve got that sorted, do you want to tell me what upset you to begin with?” His brother shakes a finger in his face when Regulus opens his mouth to utter a well-thought-out lie. “Don’t bother saying anything about having a concussion… while I’m sure that’s true based on the huge bump on the back of your head and uh… other reasons, I don’t believe you.”
Exhaling in a rush, it's frustrating to be called out so easily. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know -”
He drops his head down, right as another wave of tears begins cascading down his cheeks, a vicious reminder of why he hates crying in the first place; once he starts, it’s hard to stop. The last time he sobbed like this was when he ruined everything between them, his tears going off and on for hours, seemingly endless.
“Yes, yes, Reggie, you’ve said that. But what it is that you didn’t know has yet to be revealed.”
Raising his head to glare at his brother, Sirius leaps at the chance to gently dry his brother’s tears like he’s a toddler again… hasn’t Regulus already suffered enough humiliation today?
Suddenly, Potter gasps in horror, Andromeda echoing him seconds later.
“Good Godric, what the fuck?!”
“Don’t be rude, James,” Sirius chides. “It’s not Regulus’s fault he isn’t as beautiful as me, but he’s still a good-looking lad.”
“People don’t generally cry blood, Sirius!” Potter hisses, distressed by their lack of concern over the matter. At least that explains why Regulus’s eyes were burning so badly.
Sirius shrugs. “What can I say? Reg’s one of a kind.”
“It’s true,” he agrees with false brightness.
When he’s confident his brother isn’t looking, the younger teen coyly flutters his eyelashes at the Chaser. Potter’s eyes widen, but he quickly regains his composure to blow the Slytherin a kiss that does not leave him flustered.
“Andromeda,” Sirius interjects, cutting off their cousin’s frantic volley of questions. “It’s from an incident this summer, but I need you to please return to Regulus’s dorm and get the bottle of eyedrops from his bathroom medicine cabinets. It’ll stop any additional blood from coming out of his eyes, at least for the rest of the day. And before you ask, no, I won’t risk summoning it in case it gets intercepted.”
“Don’t move from here, you cannot risk anyone seeing him in this state and asking uncomfortable questions,” Andromeda warns before striding back down the hall in the direction they came from.
“Now…” With a flick of Sirius’s hand, the bloody handkerchief returns to its previous pristine state. “Let’s return to you telling me about what happened.”
“I thought you and Lupin were… you know, together.” Regulus locks eyes with Sirius to convey his true meaning. “I thought you were together, and he attacked you. Potter corrected my inaccurate conclusion.”
Sirius fidgets, glancing off to the side. “Regulus -”
“I’m sorry!” Regulus accidentally shouts, feeling tears well up in his eyes again when the two Gryffindors recoil away.
Might Dumbledore find it in his heart to allow him to complete his studies from his dorm room? It’s obvious he should not be allowed to mingle with the rest of society.
His brother lightly sandwiches Regulus’s cheeks between his hands, preventing him from hiding his face. “You’re not the first to think that, though you may be the last given how things are going. I’m not mad, Reg. But please try not to cry, okay?... for the next few months, preferably.”
“You’re… you’re not upset?” the Slytherin tentatively asks, hating himself from how hopeful he sounds. “It’s just… you seemed mad earlier, before we started walking towards the Hospital Wing. You are mad at me, aren’t you?”
Sirius bites his lip, looking contemplative, and then slowly nods. “I am mad.” Of course, of course he is, Regulus knew better than to get his hopes up, but look at him doing it anyways, huh? He’s so stupid, when will he learn?! “You’re spiraling again, stop trying to squirm away and let me finish.”
Regulus ceases his attempts to free himself, thankful when Sirius relaxes his strong grip on his bruised face. “Sorry.”
“I’m mad,” Sirius continues, tone tinted with amusement, “because you foolishly and quite recklessly picked a fight with someone twice your size. Not even I would do that!”
Regulus’s eyes narrow at the memory. “Is his face made of stone? Is he wearing some sort of glamor to look like he’ll collapse if someone looks at him the wrong way? An illusion to lure people into a false sense of security?”
Potter snorts. “He could beat the three of us in a fight without breaking a sweat… annoying, isn’t it?”
“Very,” Regulus agrees with a pout. “But I don’t regret it.” His head suddenly throbs, his entire face aches, and his bruised hand twinges, but he fights back his grimace, not wanting to give his brother the satisfaction.
“Why did you even do it to begin with?” Sirius asks curiously, eyes scanning his face. “It’s very unlike you… I thought Narcissa’s friend was pranking me when she barged into the dorm saying you were in a fight with one of my mates. When we got closer, and it became evident there was a brawl going on, I assumed it would be with James, considering how you two have always been snippy with each other. But Remus?”
“You should have seen his face when he first saw Remus walking down the stairs,” Potter shudders. “It was bone chilling.”
Sirius turns to his friend with a thoughtful frown. “I don’t understand where all that animosity came from, you know? Obviously, they were never mates, but I’ve been under the impression Reg and Rem get on pretty well, all things considered.”
Huh, maybe Sirius hit his head too, because it’s glaringly obvious why Regulus went after the other Gryffindor. “Sirius, you honestly cannot be this daft, and Merlin help us if you are! Lupin HURT you, why wouldn’t that upset me?”
“And Narcissa healed it within seconds!” his brother counters hotly. “And yet now you’re hurt, far worse than I was to begin with.”
“So? It will heal quickly, too,” Regulus snaps, fury filling him once more when he recalls how distressed Sirius was last night. “But you chose him, and he hurt you emotionally. And yes, I thought you were romantically involved with one another, which made it worse, but regardless, he hurt your feelings, and I find that reprehensible.”
“Aww,” the Chaser coos, which is a confusing response, but when is Potter not confusing?
“I appreciate the gesture, Reg, but you won’t be doing it again... or anything of the sort, regardless of who I get in a quarrel with!” Sirius chastises without a trace of humor. “Do you understand me? I don’t know why you’ve suddenly embarked on this daredevil, impetuous streak Regulus Arcturus Black, but it ends TODAY.”
Since he’s sitting side-by-side with Sirius, his brother can’t see him, but Potter’s biting his cheeks to keep from laughing, and perhaps that’s what gives Regulus the confidence to raise an eyebrow at his hypocritical brother and call him on his shite.
“So, let me get this straight. You can go off and be as reckless as you so please, but I -”
“Yes!” Sirius angrily cuts in. “You are the youngest, and it’s my job to look after you, meaning -”
“Oh, that’s such bollocks!” Potter finally loses the battle against his fit of giggles, laughing harder when Sirius twists to glare at him. “I appreciate your concern, brother, but that’s awfully hypocritical -”
“As your older brother, it is my responsibility to look after you, that’s just the way it is, Regulus,” Sirius interrupts again. “And yes, I’ve done a piss poor job of it since I left for Hogwarts, especially this summer where you almost died under my watch, TWICE.”
Potter looks shell-shocked, all traces of mirth disappearing. “What?”
Probably disappointed Regulus didn’t actually snuff it, the arsehole.
“Then, what do you do when we get back to school, but throw yourself face first into someone’s fist -”
“I got him first, I’ll have you know!”
“Father told me to do it,” Sirius abruptly says, his jaw clenched. “Not that I wouldn’t have already, but even he believes it’s my duty to look after you. He’s said it ever since you were born, Regulus. And yes, fine, I admit I shirk the ‘family duties’ I don’t agree with, but this isn’t one of them!”
He squints at his brother, searching for a hint of a lie. “But is this like the time Father said, ‘You can’t go into the attic alone’ so you concluded bringing me along fulfilled his request?”
Sirius scrunches his nose. “You’ll never let me live that down, will you?”
“Never.”
“I wasn’t trying to get around an order,” his brother argues, his voice sounding awfully close to a whine. “I didn’t go alone, which is what he said. How was I supposed to know he meant ‘bring an adult’? He should have said that!”
Regulus rolls his eyes, tempted to argue that ‘bring an adult’ is implied when dark artifacts are involved. But he benevolently decides to drop it, mostly because he realizes something more important. “You know, it’s probably a good thing everything unfolded the way it did. Otherwise, if I had taken the time to properly plan like I should have, Gryffindor would have one less student within its ranks.”
Potter frowns. “As in… Sirius would move into Slytherin permanently?”
Sirius and Regulus share several looks, their silent exchange going something like:
‘Tell me he’s joking.’ // ‘Don’t be mean, Reg. He grew up differently than us.’ // ‘But he can’t possibly be that naïve.’ // ‘You’d be surprised.’
“Oi!”
Before Potter can say anything else, Andromeda comes rushing around the corner, a familiar bottle clutched in her hand.
“Hurry,” their cousin urges, handing Sirius the special eye-drops. “Narcissa sent a message with one of the portraits… Madam Pomfrey is on her way to come get you lot.”
“Mr. Black!” an irritated voice rings out less than a minute later.
Sirius hastily closes the bottle and slips it into the pocket of his robes, having just finished putting two drops of potion in each of Regulus’s eyes.
They turn to see a scowling Madam Pomfrey stalking towards them, Lupin and Pettigrew trailing behind her.
“Hogwarts needs to deal with its rodent problem,” the Slytherin hisses under his breath, not noticing the alarmed glance Potter sends Sirius. He loathes rats that squeal to the nearest adult whenever they believe something is ‘wrong’.
Further trouble is avoided because Regulus sheds a few (non-bloody) tears for their cause, explaining that when he became too dizzy to walk, they opted to take a break. She tries to force him onto a stretcher right then and there, but he vehemently refuses to suffer additional humiliation when he can walk just fine now, please and thank you.
In the end, it’s Potter who preserved the small remnants of Regulus’s dignity by volunteering to carry him, although there was a bit of commotion when he tried to sweep the younger off his feet, literally - why he thought Regulus would allow himself to be carried bridal-style to the Hospital Wing will forever be a mystery. Sirius, however, did not take kindly to his best mate’s ‘generous offer’ either, the Black heir adamant in his argument that he should be the one to carry his younger brother. Yet Potter won the debate with a casual, “Sorry, Siri, but a summer filled with nothing but Quidditch training has left me stronger than you, and do you really want to drop Regulus onto the hard ground after all that he’s recently endured?” By Sirius’s cross expression, it appeared as if he was about to say he’ll take the risk, thanks, but Potter didn’t wait for a response, squatting down in front of Regulus so he could climb onto his back.
Sirius kept his gaze directed at Regulus or Madam Pomfrey during their (thankfully) short stay in the Hospital Wing, but it didn’t stop Lupin from shooting longing glances his way. Potter lingered in the space between his two friends, but Regulus caught his disappointed expression when, in response to one of the dozens of questions on Madam Pomfrey’s concussion questionnaire, Regulus recounted everything he remembered happening in the Entrance Hall: the scuffle itself, the negotiation over detention, Sirius offering to help him up, Potter being the one to do so in the end, and then beginning the walk to the Hospital Wing. No one corrected his version of events, so Regulus isn’t sure what that was about.
Narcissa assured the Healer she would watch over her cousin back in the Slytherin Common Room, promising to teach his dormmates proper concussion protocol, all while making no mention of Sirius.
But the moment the large doors to the Hospital Wing close behind them, the blonde swivels around in the middle of the corridor, her piercing glare directed at the oldest Black brother. “Will you be around -"
Sirius’s expression becomes indignant. “It’s my fault he has a concussion in the first place, of course -”
“Pardon, but it’s actually my fault,” Lupin demurely interrupts, his eyes darting to Sirius for a millisecond, then landing on Regulus. “I’m truly sorry for hurting you so extensively, Regulus.”
Looking at Lupin now, thinking of everything that happened this morning and what he thereafter learned, Regulus no longer feels the same level of loathing he did less than an hour ago… actually, he’s not sure what to feel.
He glances surreptitiously towards his brother for guidance; Sirius makes a show of turning his back to Lupin, cutting him out of the conversation.
“Let me make this very clear to everyone - Regulus is my brother, no one else’s.” He glowers at Potter, who holds his hands up defensively, bright eyes wide behind his glasses. “So, I will be watching over him, around the clock, until he’s completely healed.” He wraps his arm around Regulus’s mid-section, ignoring the girls rolling their eyes at him. “Come, Reg, you need rest… we’ll see you later, James.”
They walk at a leisurely pace, but thanks to the variety of passageways and shortcuts Sirius leads them through, including several Regulus didn't know existed, their journey is cut in half. Yet instead of returning to the Slytherin Common Room as expected, Sirius shepherds them into a nearby classroom… going by the thick sheet of dust across every surface, it looks like one nobody has entered in years.
“Why are we not helping Regulus into bed right now?” Narcissa asks, her nose scrunched up in distaste.
Because Regulus is a functioning wizard who can tuck himself in for naps? he grumbles in his head.
Sirius twitches, like he’s resisting the urge to begin dusting while he talks. “I want to know why someone in the Common Room called Andie a… that word.”
Regulus doesn’t know who told Sirius about yesterday’s conflict, one he missed because he was sulking in bed after the Double Potions drama with Lupin. Narcissa had dragged Regulus and Andromeda into her dorm room for a debriefing after dinner, though it lasted five minutes at most once they shared the paltry information they knew. When they went back to the Common Room, Yaxley and his cronies were harassing a second-year Muggleborn boy and Severus Snape, though Regulus got the impression the older teen inserted himself into the clash (Halfbloods, like Snape, were fairly common in Slytherin, but the Muggleborns were few and far between). Andromeda had demanded to know what they thought they were doing, and Yaxley, being the dimwit they always knew him to be, started insulting the Slytherin Queen. Most of the comments centered around her ‘disgraceful associations with Mudbloods’, but a few other jibes were tossed in, like, ‘imagine what Bella’s going to say when she finds out her sister consorts with Mudbloods and blood traitors’ and ‘at least it’s the ugly sister who’s impure’.
Tired of his blabbering, Andromeda wordlessly hit him with a cutting jinx, slicing a precise line across his cheek… that’s when Yaxley made the poor decision to loudly declare, ‘You’ll pay for that, you inbred cunt!’
“I believe Slytherin matters are none of your concern, Sirius -”
“It was handled,” Narcissa interrupts her sister, her tone fiery. “Someone forgot their place in the ranks, but they were dealt a swift reminder.”
Sirius’s eyes narrow. “What precisely was handled?”
“Someone deemed it wise to mouth off to Andie because of her choice of companion, but they won’t be making the same mistake twice… assuming they have any degree of self-preservation whatsoever, of course.”
Understatement of the century; the female snakes, including those who agreed his cousin was shaming their house, had collected around Andromeda and Narcissa to face-off against Yaxley and company. A handful of his group hastily peeled themselves away with mumbled apologies, retreating to safety; a wise choice, because those who stood with Yaxley came to regret it. The fury those girls released in such a short span of time was… Regulus shudders at the memory.
Sirius seems skeptical over Narcissa’s words, but something in Regulus’s expression must convince him of her authenticity.
Chapter 9: Plots-and-Potions-a-Brewing
Notes:
I told myself I'd write my year-end review today at work, but this is much more interesting and fun.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Madam Pomfrey stipulated that Regulus required several days to recuperate from his ‘ordeal’ (apparently sustaining two severe concussions within a span of a few months is frowned upon by medical professionals, who knew?), so their first detention was scheduled for Thursday night immediately after dinner. McGonagall maintained her decree that the four of them were to serve the entirety of their punishment together, meaning Sirius, Potter, and Lupin were granted a reprieve as well. The ruling relieved his brother, who confessed he hadn’t been looking forward to serving detention with the other two Gryffindors while Regulus recovered… according to Sirius, Regulus’s presence would act as a buffer from the ‘overwhelming awkwardness’.
Because, in an interesting twist, Lupin has started actively seeking Sirius out ‘to talk’... a fruitless quest, it turns out, since Sirius was having none of it. Following the start of their row, Sirius never tried to approach Lupin to work out their differences, except during that singular, ill-fated Potions class. But he didn’t shun the other boy either.
Now?
Salazar, with the way Sirius is treating him, one would think Lupin was infected with a highly contagious disease like Spattergroit.
The Black brothers spent the rest of Saturday and a good portion of Sunday sequestered in Regulus’s room. Sirius worked diligently on upgrading Wrath’s cat tower, assigning Regulus the task of keeping the displaced owner occupied and out of trouble. The Slytherin further entertained himself by offering ‘very unhelpful suggestions, Reg, how dare you say I’m the excessive one when you want to add an additional floor below the dungeons to recreate the Chamber of Secrets, something that for centuries has never been proven real, and thus, likely doesn’t exist… and then you want to buy a giant stuffed basilisk toy to place in there for her?! This is supposed to be realistic, brother, come on!’ (a small fortune might have been spent on toys and treats for their little princess from the pet-centric catalogs Sirius acquired from Merlin-knows-where, and he will be putting the cat-nip filled basilisk in the castle whether his brother likes it or not.)
For lunch and dinner on Saturday, Sirius called for Pipsy, convinced Regulus would collapse on the spot if he tried to walk further than the loo… considering he did become dizzy whenever he stood, and Pipsy was staunchly on Sirius’s side, Regulus held back his complaints. But on Sunday he felt better, so his brother reluctantly agreed they could eat in the Great Hall.
During weekends at Hogwarts, meals were served for a longer period of time than they were on weekdays, providing students with more flexibility regarding when they could eat. The brothers followed no predictable schedule on Sunday, yet strangely enough, Lupin seemed to know exactly when they were heading to the Great Hall; when they reached the Entrance Hall, the Gryffindor would be coming down the last set of steps on the Grand Staircase, walking ahead of Potter for once. Regulus isn’t one to believe in coincidences after a situation occurs three times within the same day, so he’s pretty sure something shady was going on (Sirius brushed off his concerns, which only served to make Regulus more convinced he was right in his assumptions).
At breakfast, upon witnessing how Sirius’s expression darkened the moment he spotted Lupin, Andromeda and Narcissa blocked the taller teen from reaching their cousin, the blonde gracious enough to hiss out a warning that he better tread lightly, lest he wish to experience the consequences of their displeasure. Lupin slunk off to his own table, and an uncharacteristically glum Potter accompanied them to the Slytherin one, where he childishly squirmed his way into sitting between the two brothers. Sirius harshly shut down his murmured suggestions that he should hear Lupin out with a growled, “He beat the stuffing out of my little brother, James! From day one, I have made it abundantly clear to everyone that Regulus is off-limits, whether it be pranks, fights, insults, or anything of the sort! Even if Reg hit first, we both know Remus is perfectly capable of defending himself without hurting anyone. So, no, I will not hear him out, and he should count himself lucky I won’t be retaliating. But if you bring it up again, James, I won’t be talking to you either.”
Well, that was news! Sirius and his friends were notorious pranksters who spared no one from their ‘jokes’, faculty included. But in hindsight, Regulus always did seem to come out of their pranks relatively unscathed...
Like the time in Regulus’s first year when half of Slytherin had their skin dyed an unsightly swirl of red and gold for two weeks. Gryffindor had beaten their house by 20 points in the hotly contested opening match of the season, a game attended by practically the entire school. But instead of pranking their whole house, the skin-coloring charm affected every other year, skipping over the first-year boys and the fourth-year girls; Regulus and Andromeda were spared, while Severus, Narcissa, and Bellatrix were not. Everyone assumed if Slytherin had won, they all would have suffered, but armed with this new information, Regulus wasn’t so sure.
Then there was the incident at Halloween the next year when Sirius and his little friends spiked the pumpkin juice with a potion that made everyone speak in rhymes for the remainder of the week… Regulus has never been shy about his dislike of the beverage, opting for tea in the evenings and coffee at breakfast and lunch. And just last year, they flooded the Slytherin Dungeons with barrels of glitter in the shape of lions that roared at random intervals - somehow, it went everywhere but the third-year boys’ dorm (small amounts eventually crept in, but it was more to do with how the substance is nearly impossible to fully clean up rather than them being pranked).
Following his snippy remark, Sirius pointedly turned away from Potter, leaving his friend to his brooding. Potter’s subsequent put-out expression induced an uncomfortable sensation in Regulus’s stomach; regrettably, he possessed enough self-awareness to recognize that the strange feeling wasn't caused by the two cups of coffee he downed in the five minutes since they arrived.
Confident his brother was fully absorbed in his conversation with Evan regarding Undetectable Extension Charms, Regulus nudged the dwindling platter of bacon closer to the Gryffindor Chaser as a peace offering. But Potter’s impolite lack of acknowledgement regarding the kind gesture left the younger teen with no choice but to resort to more drastic measures to ensure his attention was where it should be - on Regulus.
Jabbing an elbow into his side, Regulus muttered, “Cheer up, Potter, will you? Your melancholy is making me feel dreary, and that’s saying something.” Potter rubbed his arm with a scowl, but remained silent, so Regulus pressed on. “Given your current disposition, I’d say it’s safe to assume your parents have never quarreled a day in their lives, so let me explain something that’s obvious to those of us who do not live in a picturesque world like yourself - these sorts of rifts tend to resolve quickly, I assure you. In no time at all, the Fab Four will be back to plotting pranks and spending evenings braiding each other’s hair.”
Potter, annoyingly, did not cheer up; in fact, he became impossibly more woebegone than before. “Funny, I thought you of all people would understand what it feels like to have two individuals you really care about at odds, but I guess I was wrong.”
Oh, what melodrama, Regulus thought exasperatedly.
Even before Sirius drove a massive wedge between himself and the other Blacks, he frequently clashed with their relatives over hot topic issues and inconsequential nonsense. It put Regulus, who adored his older brother but held similar beliefs as the rest of their family, in an impossible position. He understood more than Potter could ever know what it’s like to be caught in the middle of two warring sides, desperate for peace. With that in mind, he debated on forgoing diplomacy and telling the older boy to put a cork in it - Sirius and Lupin were extraordinarily civil in their squabble in comparison to what Regulus dealt with at home.
But he was too well-mannered for such rudeness.
“For your information, I am extensively well versed in such matters, hence my advisement that it gets better,” the Slytherin argued, uncomfortable with the earnest look he was receiving; Potter was supposed to laugh and/or roll his eyes at Regulus’s words… but like Sirius, he lived to be contrary.
Must be a Gryffindor thing.
“Yeah? And when is that gonna happen, Regulus?! Because from where I’m sitting, this situation looks endless.”
The irony wasn’t lost on the younger Slytherin; his brother attempted to do something nice for Lupin, but ended up pissing him off, exactly as Regulus had done with Potter… perhaps they’re both cursed.
“I don’t know, Potter! Go consult your crystal ball, or have a cup of tea and divine it for yourself.” Regulus glared at a first-year gaping them, his aggravation increasing when the runt squeaked and fled the table. He’d never been the type who purposefully intimidated others for the fun of it, but Potter unequivocally brought out the worst in him. “Surely, you have other friends to occupy yourself with until my brother cools off, which mind you, he always does. And if not, there’s always the hoard of admirers waiting in the wings, who are all but panting for the chance to acquire a moment of your time.”
“Hanging out with other people is not the same!” Potter fumed, eyes flashing behind his spectacles. “As I’m sure you bloody well know, but you're determined to be a git about everything… and I don’t have admirers!”
A gaggle of girls at the Ravenclaw table, whose members derived from all four houses, had been ogling Potter since the moment he trudged into the Great Hall. The braver ones called out greetings as he passed; Potter waved in acknowledgement, but seemed unaware of the tizzy his attention caused, likely immune to it from repeated exposure. But Regulus had noticed.
“Being a git, am I? Well, I apologize for attempting to make you feel better, Potter, how gauche of me.” Regulus removed his napkin from his lap and threw it onto the table, preparing to stand up. If there’s one thing he learned from his brother over the years, it’s that storming out during an argument guaranteed you the highly coveted last word. “Next time, I’ll mind my own business and leave you to your suffering.”
Unfortunately, his nemesis was aware of this tactic too; he halted Regulus's departure by grabbing his forearm.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t take my frustration out on you.” Potter’s tone was laced with sincerity, so Regulus gallantly decided to hear him out. “You’re right, I do have other friends, and I’m lucky to still have my best mates, even if it’s at separate times.” He ran his free hand through his hair, looking dispirited. “It’s hard to explain.”
Sirius took that moment to interrupt them, asking if there’s anymore kippers. His gaze then landed on his brother’s barely-touched plate of food, before moving to the half-empty carafe Regulus called dibs on when they sat down, to Regulus, who's leg was tossed over the bench like he was about to stand up, and then Potter, who had his hand clasped around the younger teen's arm, holding him in place (which was removed with a sheepish grin).
Head cocked to the side, Sirius stared down the length of the table with a frown. “Reg, why is Andie feeding Persephone?” His expression turned to one of alarm. “Oh Merlin and Morgana, has Mother resorted to sending me Howlers with your owl now? Do you think I could sue if she off’d my darling Loki?”
Regulus whipped his head around so quickly, his neck cracked.
“You're insufferable, brother!” he growled after concluding it was only a pitiful prank (he’d never had a Howler sent to him, and the public humiliation combined with the crushing shame of disappointing his parents was not something he’d like to experience if at all possible).
His brother smirked in response, and that’s when Regulus noticed his carafe of coffee situated to the left of the Gryffindor Black, just out of reach.
“And James was right to prevent you from leaving the table so soon, you clearly need an intervention. Eat your actual breakfast, brother. Your brain isn’t going to heal if all you provide it is coffee and tea.”
With that, Sirius flipped his hair over his shoulder (a less effective gesture due to the shorter length, Regulus thought smugly), and returned to his conversation with his brother’s best friend. Evan smiled sympathetically but didn’t return Regulus’s coffee, the traitor.
Picking up his fork, Regulus resentfully shoved some eggs into his mouth. “It appears as if I’m not going anywhere quite yet…” He trailed off in hopes Potter would comprehend what he was hinting at, loath to say something cringe-worthy like, ‘I’m here if you want to talk about it'.
“I know it doesn’t make a lick of sense to feel this way,” Potter began after finishing his last bite of toast, “because I’m not on the outs with either of them. And really, I shouldn’t even be complaining -”
“You’re entitled to your feelings,” Regulus interrupted, passing along Pandora’s wise counsel, words she’s repeated to him, Evan, and Barty whenever they tried to dismiss their own emotions, even unintentionally. “Yes, someone will always have it worse, but your emotions matter too, and no one, including your own damn self, should try to invalidate that.”
Potter blinked slowly, like he was struggling to comprehend what Regulus said. “Oh… wow, um you’re right. I really needed to hear that, thank you. I guess this last week has been rather -”
The Slytherin jumped in his seat when a hand unexpectedly tapped his shoulder, turning around to see both of his best friends trying (and failing) to hold back their laughs.
“This week has been rather… lonely?” Regulus supplied when Potter failed to continue after Evan and Barty walked off, the pair headed to the pitch to do some flying (to his profuse jealousy). “Frustrating? Stressful? Miserable?”
Again, the Gryffindor placed a hand on his arm… not in a flirtatious way, or to prevent him from leaving, but supportively, like Regulus was the one in need of comfort. “All of the above. See, I knew you would understand.”
“Well, duh! Regulus understands everything, he’s -”
With Evan’s departure, Sirius lost his interlocutor… meaning he immediately butted into the conversation closest to him.
“Completely brilliant, one of the smartest Blacks to ever exist, could run the country by the time he was seven, I know, mate!” Potter scoffed, playfully bumping his shoulder into Sirius’s. Upon catching Regulus’s gobsmacked look, he rushed out an explanation. “You have no idea how much Sirius talked… or rather, talks about you. I swear, during our first year, he never shut up about you.”
“Uhh…”
With a laugh faker than leprechaun gold, Sirius dismissively waved a hand in the air. “Don’t mind him, Reg. You’ll soon learn that James has a tendency to overexaggerate things. Like way overexaggerate, almost to the point where he makes stuff up entirely, heh.”
… well, that certainly sounded familiar. Again, must be a Gryffindor thing.
“Oi, Lily!” Potter called to the redhead seated several seats down with Narcissa and a few other Slytherins.
“Didn’t your mum teach you it’s rude to interrupt people in the middle of a conversation, Potter?” Evans responded coolly, earning herself a proud grin from the older girl next to her.
Potter shrugged, unaffected. “Must have missed that lesson… but hey, do you remember all the things Sirius said in our first year about his darling baby brother?”
After sharing a look, Evans slid down the bench to avoid yelling, while Narcissa continued her conversation with the male Prefect in her year.
“How could anyone forget?” Sirius’s bid to silence the girl was thwarted by Potter putting his bulging biceps to use, the Chaser managing to pin the Beater’s arms to his side, preventing him from drawing his wand… not that Sirius really needed one if he really wanted to hex her, but alas. “Oh, let’s see. There was the time Mary complimented Sirius’s handwriting, and he claimed his was rubbish compared to his brother’s. When Dorcas’s Moondew plant was the first to sprout in our class, Sirius refused to congratulate her because at the age of eight, his brother’s Moondew sprouted in half the time hers did and won a plethora of awards in some Junior Herbology competition. During Quidditch tryouts that year, McLaggen caught the Snitch in ten minutes, which wasn’t impressive to Sirius because Regulus could do it in five.”
“I stand by that,” Sirius sniffed regally without meeting anyone’s eyes. “McLaggen was rubbish.”
Potter finally released the other boy from his grasp, turning to Regulus with a wide grin. “Dare say, half the girls in our year… in all four houses, mind… had developed a bit of a crush on you by the time we left Hogwarts in June.”
“Let me guess,” Regulus murmured, blotting his mouth with his napkin in a bid to appear nonchalant. “Then, I was sorted into Slytherin, and every single one of those praising remarks and ‘crushes’ went away.”
The redhead laughed incredulously. “Heavens, not at all! I distinctly remember Mary and Marlene becoming even more insistent about meeting you… getting sorted into Slytherin made you a bit of a bad-boy in their eyes. But Sirius was adamant that everyone should leave you alone -”
“Shocker,” Regulus deadpanned, again reminded of his place in his brother’s life.
“And after a few uh, incidents that happened under mysterious circumstances,” Evans continued, ignoring his interruption, “his message was taken to heart.”
“Oh, don’t be like that, Reg!” Sirius reached around Potter to shove his shoulder. “Tell me, what would you have done if a bunch of girls started following you and giggling over everything you said? How would you have reacted if a group of Gryffindor blokes you’d never met approached you to strike up a chat?”
A shudder ran through him at the thought of so many awkward social interactions. “I would have asked why they were speaking to me… politely,” he added after seeing Evans’s startled expression.
Sirius snapped his fingers. “My point exactly.” He scowled at his fellow Gryffindor. “As you can see, I saved a lot of birds from having their hearts broken by Regulus’s antisocial tendencies… you’re welcome.”
Their next two meals were blessedly less dramatic affairs. On the way to lunch, Regulus brazenly stepped in front of Sirius when Lupin approached their group, his arms crossed over his chest, fingers gripping the wand in his sleeve; Lupin took one look at him, sighed, and walked off with a forlorn Potter trailing behind.
For dinner, Sirius led their group towards the Great Hall, stride long and head held high; when Lupin attempted to speak to him, Sirius roughly shouldered past him without a word… Regulus is confident he could produce a Patronus simply by picturing Lupin’s miserable look at the rejection.
Breakfast on Monday morning comes with unexpected news; Regulus is halfway through his omelet and had just finished his second cup of coffee when Professor Slughorn informs him that he was excused from classes for the day, the next day, and the following day after that, much to his brother’s envy. Narcissa promptly launches into an explanation that brain injuries were tricky in both the magical and Muggle worlds, meaning Regulus should continue to allow his brain the rest it needs to heal by avoiding strenuous activities, along with any task that requires thinking, concentration, or memory.
He's known this information since May, after he received his first concussion, courtesy of an elbow to the side of the head from the opposing Hufflepuff Seeker, Barnes. The attempted sabotage wasn’t enough to prevent Regulus from catching the golden ball, but the move did earn him a weekend-long stay in the Hospital Wing - yet, oddly enough, no missed classes.
It’s unclear as to why this head injury is being ‘treated’ differently than the first. Maybe because it's the second? If Narcissa is vouching for him this time around… is it because she trusts Sirius to ensure Regulus follows his recovery protocol? If so, her faith is well-placed. Perhaps it’s simply that she doesn’t want to suffer another repeat of his whinging - Regulus is not ashamed to admit he sent Narcissa 37 strongly worded letters and 28 separate ones to Andromeda during his stint in the ward last year, pleading for his cousins to rescue him from his dire boredom (his efforts were to no avail, or so he thought).
Either way, there will be no complaints from Regulus about dodging imprisonment in the Hospital Wing. With no intention of adhering to Madam Pomfrey’s advice, freedom from her oversight means she can not forbid him from acting as he sees fit. And with three days off from classes, Regulus fully intends to keep up with his studies on his own.
Unfortunately, there's an unforeseen obstacle Regulus needs to overcome - namely, one Sirius Black, who embraced his self-assigned ‘caretaker’ duties with gusto. On Sunday alone, even before the younger Slytherin was excused from lessons, he told Regulus when to get up, refused to let him leave the Great Hall until he ate ‘a proper meal’, forced him to take nap after nap, forbade him from opening any book (even banning the new edition of Quidditch Weekly), and shooed him into bed by 9pm. It’s frustrating, but Regulus will bravely endure it. His brother is still required to attend lessons, meaning the younger Slytherin can do whatever he pleases during those blissful hours of quiet. If all goes according to plan, the next three days will be spent reading the covered chapters in his textbooks, enjoying some non-academic books, and in the event his brain does require a reprieve, breaking out his sketchbook. He doesn’t like to draw when other people are around, which they always are lately, so it’ll be nice to put his quill to parchment and just zone out.
Lunchtime brings the return of Goliath, Barty’s owl, who Evan borrowed to write to his aunt. She happily sent back all of the potion ingredients requested, doubling the amount in case of ‘unforeseen incidents’, along with additional ingredients she believed may be useful in ‘future projects’. The best part? She added a few books of interest that Evan declared Regulus can borrow once he’s ‘cleared to use his brain’. Her only request was that they write back with a detailed description of how their revenge goes once it’s completed; Sirius volunteers to narrate the tale, humbly claiming he’s the ‘greatest storyteller in the castle’. It isn’t said, but Regulus knows he’ll be the one actually composing the letter - his brother has never been able to write at the speed of which his mouth runs.
All weekend, Regulus mentally crafted several well thought-out arguments in favor of being allowed to join the Illusion Potion brewing session. In the event those weren’t persuasive enough, Regulus was perfectly content with the idea of relentlessly nagging Sirius and/or Potter until they caved… yet all of his plotting was for naught, as his brother agreed to the initial request without hesitation.
Sirius’s last class on Monday is a free period… because of course he’s that lucky… so after a ‘quick’ shower to wash off the sweat and grime following a hectic Herbology lesson, he accompanies Regulus to the 7th floor to meet Potter outside the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room. From there, they’ll brew in the Room of Requirement, Sirius carrying the necessary ingredients in a leather satchel slung over his shoulder.
The Fat Lady’s portrait swings open at the exact hour they planned to meet, surprising Regulus, who assumed they’d be subjected to waiting an absurd length of time for an ill-mannered lout like Potter.
Except it’s not the Gryffindor Chaser who walks out, but two vaguely familiar-looking older boys.
“Well, look what we have here, Daniel,” the shorter of the two sneers to his friend, “Sirius Black and his little minion.”
Sirius Black and his what?! Who is this boor, and what did Regulus ever do to him?
“Little minion?” the Slytherin echoes incredulously. “Did I hear that correctly?” His brother places a hand on his shoulder. “I’d recommend looking in a mirror before you decide to refer to someone else as ‘little’, but considering you’re as tall as Pygmy Puff, I imagine that could pose some difficulty for you, hmm?”
The vertically challenged boy’s fists clench at his side. “Hey! Watch it -”
“And if I don’t ‘watch it’, what exactly are you going to do about it?” Regulus jeers, lip curling in distaste. “Bite my ankles?” The boy opens his mouth to speak, but the Slytherin is nowhere near done. “Might I also suggest purchasing a dictionary at your earliest convenience? Clearly, there’s a lapse in your education if you believe the term ‘brother’ to be synonymous with ‘minion’.” He gasps, like he just realized something important. “Oh Merlin, please forgive my rudeness… the word ‘synonymous’ means ‘something that is alike in meaning’.”
His brother cackles behind him, but the taller of the two, Daniel, speaks before his friend can further dig his own grave. Pity. “I hope you aren’t trying to come back to Gryffindor, Black. Everyone knows you should have been sorted into Slytherin with him.”
“Give it up, Hillhawk, it’s been years of this drivel!” Sirius groans loudly. “You’re so dull and pedestrian, it genuinely astounds me.”
Daniel Hillhawk, Daniel Hillhawk… the name rings a bell in Regulus’s head, a rather blaring one to be precise, but he can’t recall where he’s heard it before.
Hillhawk’s over-tanned skin flushes. “Dark Wizard is practically synonymous with the ‘Black’ family name, is it not? Your presence here tarnishes Gryffindor’s distinguished reputation.”
“The other one knows his place at least,” the shorter teen scoffs, glaring disdainfully at Regulus. “In the dungeons, with the rest of your kind.”
... the audacity?!
It’s Regulus’s turn to place a hand on Sirius’s arm after he takes a threatening step forward.
Sirius bares his teeth. “Watch how you speak about my brother, Reeves! I don’t take such insults lightly, as Hillhawk can attest.” He frowns in faux-sympathy. “Aww, is wittle Danny still positively petrified of the Forbidden Forest after a month of detentions with Hagrid?”
And just like that, Regulus remembers where he knows Hillhawk from.
“You and your blasted friends -”
“I work alone, too... you see, I’m rather brilliant like that.”
“Hillhawk, is it?” the Slytherin interrupts innocently, squashing down his giddiness. This is too good to be true. “Not related to Grayson Hillhawk by chance, are you?”
“Grayson is his older cousin,” Sirius answers for him, looking confused. “Why?”
Regulus shrugs his shoulders with a casual air. “Oh, no reason. It’s just, Grayson Hillhawk, a Gryffindor when he was at Hogwarts if I’m not mistaken, was arrested this summer for slaughtering a flock of unicorns. As if such a crime weren’t despicable enough, he then harvested their corpses for potions ingredients and attempted to sell his wares for an astronomical profit on the black market.” The Slytherin cocks his head to the side, reveling in how increasingly uncomfortable the two Gryffindors look. “But how did he get caught, you might ask? Apparently, the owner of an Apothecary in Knockturn Alley was so horrified by the heinous killing of such pure, innocent, and defenseless creatures, she immediately reported him to the Aurors after he tried to sell to her, bragging about his feat the entire time he was in her shop.” He turns to his brother. “That seems pretty fucking dark to me, but what do I know? I’m just an evil Slytherin.”
Sirius grins proudly. “As a Gryffindor, I’d say it’s pretty fucking dark, too.”
“My cousin was framed!” Hillhawk cries, mostly to his companion, who’s now side-eyeing him like he’s rethinking their friendship. “He’d NEVER do such a thing, that woman was a rotten liar!”
Regulus looks forward to telling Evan, Emma, and Ella what this vagrant thinks of their aunt… it’ll be fun to plan his demise together.
The Slytherin rolls his eyes. “Spare me, Hillhawk, the Aurors caught your cousin red handed when he attempted to kill another one. Now, what I find peculiar is how this atrocity didn’t make it into the Daily Prophet… perhaps due to your other uncle’s high position with the newspaper?”
“Sounds shady,” Sirius says brightly, his voice more chipper than it should be given the appalling topic of discussion. “Murdering unicorns for profit and then covering it up is certainly the stuff of Dark Wizards. I’m sure we can all agree.”
"My... my family knows my cousin is innocent! Would your family not protect their own if they knew someone was about to have their name unfairly dragged through the mud?"
The Blacks would protect their own even if they were guilty, but that is neither here nor there.
“He was probably under the Imperius Curse!” Reeves snarls, evidently deciding slaying pure, sacred creatures for financial gain was less of a crime than being a Slytherin or having the surname ‘Black’. “From one of your kind.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Regulus’s fingers curl around the wand in his sleeve, his patience waning. “Perhaps you’re right… Reeves, is it?” He waits for the suspicious nod before continuing. “I’ll be writing to my father at once to request he immediately withdraw our family’s support of your father during his upcoming Wizengamot trial. I wouldn’t want the Black name to hinder his chances of proving his innocence… I’m sure he’ll be cleared on all fifty-three embezzlement, fraud, and extortion charges brought against him from his time as President of the Wands Out for Orphans charity. I mean, misappropriating money raised to assist magical children with dead parents is the stuff of the seediest of Dark Wizards, I’m sure we can all agree.”
Oh, but on the contrary, Regulus knows Rowan Reeves won’t be cleared without the backing of the same powerful Pureblood families he solicited donations from. The evidence against him was insurmountable. It didn’t help that the idiot openly admitted to an astounding number of individuals where their galleons were really going... towards efforts to pass anti-Muggleborn legislation... rather than telling a select few and letting the word spread within the proper circles.
(Upon learning the actual purpose of the charity his family was a prominent benefactor of, it made Regulus feel a rather odd sort of way, so in a bid to ease his discomfort, he started making monthly anonymous donations to legitimate charities for magical orphans, regardless of their ancestry).
But once one prominent family withdraws their support, the rest will follow in droves.
It seems Reeves knows this, too.
“That’s… that’s, uh, that's not necessary, Regulus!” Reeves stammers, furiously shaking his head. “My father is thankful for -”
Sirius laughs scathingly at the reddening Reeves, who continues to stutter out his apologies.
“Oi! Mate, are you two coming or not?” a voice hollers from their right.
Leave it to Potter to have been in the Room of Requirement this whole time.
“Potter, you imbecile, you were supposed to meet us right here,” Regulus snaps when the Gryffindor Chaser approaches. “And because you cannot follow the simplest of directions, I had to have my afternoon ruined by these two buffoons.” He jerks his head to the side, where Dimwit 1 and Dimwit 2 were trying to recover from the verbal evisceration they received.
Potter’s wand magically materializes in his hand. “Are they giving you trouble, Regulus?”
Sirius frowns. “Uh, hello, I’m here too -”
“I handled it,” the Slytherin growls, offended by the insinuation that he cannot defend himself and his sibling. A roguish, rugged Potter riding up on his trusty steed to act as Regulus’s white knight was an attractive visual, sure, but for one, he’s always preferred darkness to light, and two, he doesn’t need a fucking savior. “Now, let us be on our way before my last nerve is incinerated, and I do something I’ll regret for a brief period of time until I remember they deserved my wrath.”
With that, Regulus flounces off down the corridor, leaving (2) angry seventh-years, (1) amused brother, and (1) smitten fool in his wake.
Your gut instincts are messages from your soul, Grandmother Melania preached to her grandsons growing up. Trust them - if it feels like something is wrong, it likely is.
The words were spoken to Regulus significantly more so than to his brother, with no discernible reason as to why… granted, given his current predicament, maybe she was onto something.
Earlier that afternoon, his instincts told him that Sirius’s acceptance of his request to be present during the brewing of the potion was too easy. With that in mind, did Regulus proceed with caution throughout the remainder of the day, waiting for the inevitable Bludger to strike?... or did he squash the feeling down, giving Sirius the ‘benefit of the doubt’ like some sort of simple-minded dolt who sees the world through an optimistic lens?
Sirius’s scheming wasn’t even subtle! Bloody hell, the shame of it all might genuinely kill him… Regulus didn’t even bat an eye when they entered the new iteration of the Room of Requirement, Potter mentioning something about how he ‘imagined the room per Sirius’s explicit, overly-detailed instructions’.
His brother’s version of the room was fairly basic (something Regulus should have found suspicious, because Sirius NEVER does anything simple). Half the size of their usual potions classroom, two pewter cauldrons were set up side by side on the long wooden table in the center of the room, the required ingredients laid out a safe distance away. But unlike their usual classroom, in front of the workstation was a spacious and comfortable-looking couch, covered with throw pillows and fuzzy blankets. All of the furniture was angled in such a way that the brewers would face whoever was on the couch… ideal for conversing, certainly, but an unusual addition that should have resulted in Regulus realizing something was already brewing in the room, something that didn’t require a cauldron - a plot.
But the couch and the two-wizard workstation didn’t strike Regulus as concerning, possibly because he had no intention of brewing. This entire endeavor was only occurring because of what Smith did to him… fine, and what he theoretically would have done to Sirius… thus making it imperative that Regulus be a part of the process. A wizard of his standing could not allow another to get revenge on his behalf, even his own brother, without providing any input of his own. As such, Regulus’s contribution today would be the most important of all - his presence.
Upon entering the room, Sirius wasted no time in guiding his younger brother to the couch; before Regulus could blink, he was swept off his feet, literally, then unceremoniously tossed onto the mound of insanely soft pillows. Seconds later, a heavy book was pressed into his hands, his instructions being to read aloud each step of the recipe as they went.
The first set of directions, 'Pluck the wings off 42 individual lacewing flies, and drop the wingless flies into cauldron in pairs of two. Proceed to slowly stir in a clockwise direction for 29 minutes, until the mixture is dark purple in color,' served as a poignant reminder to Regulus why Potions is far from his favorite subject. Sirius declared they must put on some music to make the process more bearable. He bustled off to fiddle with some device above the fireplace mantle, while Potter passionately petitioned against this plan. (‘We can just chat to pass the time, yeah? I’m sure there’s loads to talk about, we don’t need anything else!’) - he was ignored.
Muggle music started blaring through the room, prompting Potter to scrunch his nose up like a disapproving elder. Although not a fan of it himself, Regulus tolerated his brother’s obsession with this ‘rock’ music, a loud, cacophony of instruments combined with vocals that sounded more like angry shouting than singing… it was still better than some of the rubbish their parents listened to in the evenings. He did find it curious, however, that out of all of Sirius’s annoying habits, of which there were many, his taste in music bothered Potter the most. With that in mind, Regulus decided he would henceforth covertly support his brother’s interest in this ‘rock and roll’ to the best of his abilities.
Trying to read the rest of the instructions in his head, Regulus felt his eyelids becoming heavy in spite of the earsplitting racket his brother claimed was music. The couch was more comfortable than he imagined, and against his will, he burrowed into it, tugging the blanket Sirius had tossed over his legs up to his chin.
“How are we supposed to hear Regulus read the instructions?” Potter yelled in a petty overreaction, seeing as how Sirius was literally right next to him.
“We’ll manage,” Sirius hummed, unfazed by his friend’s growing frustration.
Regulus yawned widely right after that, so he missed the next portion of Potter’s complaints… it was something to the effect of, “Can’t imagine… healthy for… concussed.”
Through drooping eyelids he fought to keep open, the Slytherin saw Sirius shake his head. “Nah, Reg’s inherited our father’s expert ability to tune out anything he doesn’t want to listen to, so he’ll be alright.”
Some unknown amount of time later, Regulus woke with a jolt. Disoriented by the unrecognizable location, he briefly thinks he fell asleep while reading in the Common Room (something he’s never done after seeing what happens to other students who do), but soon concludes he’s in the Room of Requirement.
“Ah, perfect timing, Reg, we just finished!” Sirius calls from the brewing station, a self-satisfied grin on his face. There's a familiar-looking book open on the table next to him. “We still need to figure out how we’re going to get Smith -”
“You tricked me!” the Slytherin cries, interrupting his brother mid-sentence. He’s not sure exactly how, but Sirius’s smug demeanor tells him he’s right. “You were never going to let me help, were you?”
Potter, who’s ditched his robe and has the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, muscled forearms fully on display, extinguishes the flames under the cauldrons (something Regulus is grateful for, considering how stifling the room has become - he has to resist fanning himself, unwilling to show weakness). “I genuinely don’t understand how you could fall asleep with that racket… er, sorry, ‘music’.” He laughs when Sirius lightly smacks his arm. “But Sirius swore on his honor as a Marauder that he didn’t do anything to you.”
“Swearing on your silly little friend group doesn’t impress me!” Regulus sniffs, discreetly covering the pillow he drooled on with a blanket. He glares at his brother, who’s too busy siphoning the completed potion into multiple vials to notice. “Swear on your beauty, your intelligence, and your wealth if you mean it.”
After wiggling a stopper into place, Sirius carefully places it onto the table. “Godric, Reg, you’re dramatic, has anyone ever told you that?” The younger’s scowl doesn’t falter, and eventually, his brother throws his hands in the air with a growl. “Fine! I swear on my unparalleled beauty, my big brain, my pockets loaded with galleons, my awesome friends, and my paranoid little brother, that I did NOT do anything to said brother in question. He fell asleep all on his own, probably because the baby was overdue for a nap -”
Regulus threateningly raises his wand, and with a gleeful cackle, Sirius hides behind Potter’s broad torso, as if that would ever compel the Slytherin to stay his hand… how laughable!
But of course, Potter’s whole purpose in life is to be a thorn in Regulus’s side - his husky frame just so happens to be positioned in front of six previously-empty potion vials, each one filled to the brim with a champagne colored liquid… which does rip the curse right off his tongue, more’s the pity.
His eyes narrow suspiciously. “Why did you brew so much? Are we going after the whole group, not just Smith?”
“Oh, heh… your brother didn’t tell you?” the Chaser deflects, his arms raising up and over his head to stretch out his sore muscles; it’s a tactic that proves successful, as Regulus does indeed become distracted. Potter’s insanely tight white shirt leaves little to the imagination. It clings to his skin, made worse by the perspiration generated from leaning over a steaming cauldron for hours-on-end. Regulus makes a mental note to send an anonymous letter to the School Board protesting the egregious lack of dress code enforcement for male students because this is beyond ridiculous. How is anyone supposed to learn in this sort of environment?!
Sirius follows Regulus’s line of sight, and then his eyes trail back to his brother’s. He doesn’t say anything, merely stares at the younger, expressionless. It takes Regulus a minute to figure out why Sirius would peer at him in such a way, his brain struggling to think properly after that unexpected display of… yeah. But the realization hits him like a Bludger to the back of the head, his breath hitching in his throat.
Salazar’s saggy tits, Sirius CANNOT be onto him, he can’t, he can’t… he needs to think of something fast, but what could Regulus even say, especially to a brother who has a knack for calling out his lies?! There’s simply no explanation, no reasoning, that would make his behavior… or, thoughts rather… acceptable. Then, it will only be a matter of time before Sirius’s temper explodes, now that he’s realized his younger brother has a crush... no, an interest that’s slightly more than academic, on his cherished best mate. And while he’s yelling at Regulus for having the gall to even so much as look at James Potter, he’ll assuredly remind him that he’ll never be good enough for the boy who’s literally the poster child for all things Gryffindor, something Regulus is well aware of, thanks, and then the relationship the brothers have slowly been repairing in recent weeks will implode until there’s nothing left to scrape back together, and Regulus cannot handle the notion that he’ll be the reason Sirius excommunicates himself from their family -
“Earth to Regulus,” a familiar voice sings. Regulus blinks, and his brother’s face comes into focus inches from his own. “You’re not allowed to go all spacey when you have a concussion, it’s against the rules.”
Regulus nods, his throat too constricted to form anything more than a meek, “Sorry.”
Sirius plops down on the couch and tosses his legs over Regulus’s lap, his eyes remaining on the younger’s face. “S’not your fault James is too daft to realize he grabbed someone else’s shirt this morning. Getting an eyeful of all that,” he makes a disgusted sound and gestures towards the Chaser’s jacked torso on display, “is enough to permanently scar anyone’s brain.”
“Oi!” Potter cries, self-consciously crossing his arms over his chest, straining the material to its limit.
“Just think, some poor sod’s gonna get his shirt back all stretched out now, since apparently James had nothing better to do this summer except eat heaps of food and fly around on his broom… surprised he could even get the thing off the ground by the end of the holiday -” Sirius cuts himself off to squint at the other Gryffindor. “That better not be my shirt, Potter!”
(It was)
Notes:
The next few chapters will be from James's perspective, and he has a LOT to say :)
Chapter 10: The Start of a Very Potter Interlude
Chapter Text
“That is the STUPIDEST idea I’ve ever heard!” Regulus complains loudly when the trio steps out of the Room of Requirement. "I mean, honestly!"
Sirius closes the door behind them, and it immediately disappears, leaving a smooth, blank stone wall in its place. “Yes, Regulus, you’ve said that probably, oh, a hundred times -”
“And I’ll say it a hundred more!” The Slytherin whirls on his heel to face the two Gryffindors, and James subtly inches his body behind his best mate’s, ever-so-slightly intimidated by the younger teen. One would think he’d be immune to Black temper tantrums by now, but Sirius isn’t scary (usually), something that cannot be said for his brother - he swears there was actual steam coming out of Regulus’s ears earlier. “It’s utterly preposterous, and quite frankly, arrogant, to assume you are capable of covertly administering a potion to an enemy in their EYES! You couldn’t have chosen any other potion, curse, hex, or jinx?!”
Sliding his hands into the pockets of his robes, James bravely meets the Seeker’s eyes... still angled mostly behind Sirius. “It was the only revenge plot we could all agree on.”
‘We’ was a bit of a misnomer, considering Regulus had been fast asleep when James pitched the suggestion to the motley group gathered in the Room of Requirement several days ago. Stumbling upon the potion in a random book, he almost didn’t share it because he had the same concern - how would they ever get close enough to Smith to ensure the potion went directly into each eyeball?! But with no other potential plans coming forward, he figured, why the hell not? Maybe it would spawn an usable idea.
Unsurprisingly, the suggestion wasn’t well received. Even Sirius expressed significant doubts, despite his genius brain frequently taking James’s kookiest ideas and turning them into real possibilities (example: becoming Animagi to help Remus during the full moon, an off-the-wall idea James had at the mature age of thirteen, and one Sirius researched extensively before putting together detailed step-by-step instructions that were somehow simple enough to convince James… who then convinced Peter, it was an attainable goal. In fact, Sirius just recently succeeded, while James and Peter were so close). Yet it was Regulus’s own friends who convinced the Blacks, the Prewett twins, and McKinnon that not only was the Illusion Potion a great idea for revenge, but if anyone could pull the gambit off, it was the two notorious for getting in and out of places they weren’t supposed to be in, undetected… like the Slytherin Common Room, for example.
Perhaps James is overthinking things, but looking back, Rosier and Crouch’s unanimous support was a wee bit suspicious. First and foremost, he’s fairly certain they don’t like him, and although James intends to keep this next theory to himself, he’s not 100% convinced they like Sirius either, especially where Rosier is concerned. Sometimes, Regulus’s best mate eyes Sirius like he’s plotting their marriage; other times, it's like he’s daydreaming about the Black heir’s (violent, gruesome, painstakingly slow) demise. Did Rosier and Crouch back James's plan because they assumed it wouldn’t succeed, and they’re waiting to mock him for his failure? Do they not care one way or another if he pulls it off, because they have their own scheme prepared, regardless? Or is James a giant arsehole, and they legitimately believe the Illusion Potion is a good idea? Fuck, he has no clue! Why are Slytherins so hard to read?!
A quick glance at Regulus, the victim of the attack, helps settle the issue in James’s mind. It’s frighteningly straightforward - it doesn’t matter what they, or anything else, think. James won’t fail, not when Regulus is counting on him… oh and uh, Sirius, he’s counting on James too.
“Regulus Arcturus Black!” a shrill voice shouts, startling the three teens. The Grey Lady, Ravenclaw’s house ghost, materializes in front of them, her usually kind-hearted face twisted up into the fiercest of scowls. “You have a lot of explaining to do, young man!”
Regulus ducks his head, several curls falling into his face. Irritably pushing them back, he looks up with the most endearing doe-eyes imaginable, at least in James’s personal opinion. They’re much more effective than Sirius’s signature puppy dog eyes, which now only get them out of detention 30% of the time, a drastic decrease from their original 64.5% effective rate back in first year. “I’m sorry…?”
“What seems to be the problem?” Sirius impassively asks, arms crossed over his chest.
“The problem?” A tall woman to begin with, she floats a foot above the ground, towering over them. “You, most likely.” The Gryffindors’ mouths drop open at her rudeness, but she doesn’t allow them the chance to respond. “If you’ll excuse us, this conversation is between Regulus and myself.”
“Last I checked,” James hisses, offended on behalf of his best friend, “Regulus was in Slytherin!”
“An astute observation, Potter,” Regulus interjects with a mocking drawl. “Nothing gets past those keen senses of yours, hmm?” Unable to resist the childish impulse, James sticks his tongue out. “Now, I’ll be just a minute, please kindly wait over here.” He shepherds the Gryffindors off to the side, resolutely ignoring their protests along the way.
Turning his back to them, Regulus casts a muffling charm around himself and the ghost. Sirius promptly attempts to remove it… unsuccessfully, if his put-out expression is anything to go by.
“Any idea what that’s all about?” James asks with a frown, inclining his head in the direction of the odd pair.
Has he ever seen the Grey Lady conversing with a student who wasn't in her house? James doesn’t think so. From his understanding, she’s typically amiable to helping a Ravenclaw if they approach her, but overall, she prefers to be alone, forgoing the company of students, faculty, and other ghosts alike.
“I’m not the one who’s upset, child,” Sirius mutters. Gray eyes never once shift away from the ghost, his attention fully focused… hmm, has he somehow tapped into the enhanced hearing of his canine Animagus form, granting him the ability to hear through the spell? That would certainly come in handy, and he’s definitely going to have to teach James the same trick… of course, that’s assuming he ever completes the transformation into a stag, sigh. “Can you think of a little eagle who might be rather distressed by how her best friend is suddenly ignoring her -”
Regulus rapidly shakes his head, but Sirius doesn’t ‘translate’ what his brother says, throwing James’s theory for a loop. Although, in defense of his conclusion, the younger Black brother does have a tendency to speak softly, so he won’t discard it just yet. If he had to hazard a guess, the ‘eagle’ the Grey Lady was referring to would be that oddball blonde girl, Pandora, that Regulus and his two Slytherin buddies always hang around with, the one who’s been conspicuously absent lately… not that James spends a lot of his time watching their group… or Regulus, in particular, heh.
“The same friend who’s suddenly cut off half his hair, something she strongly believes he would never do on his own accord,” Sirius continues, jerking James’s thoughts back to the present, “which coincidentally matches his brother’s new hair style. And that aforementioned friend is suddenly spending all of his time with his miscreant sibling, in spite of previous acrimonious relations -”
The Black heir falters, his mind catching up to what was said. “HEY! I object to being called a miscreant!” Swiveling around, Regulus's eyes widen when they land on his disgruntled brother. Taking out his wand, he starts poking at the air around him, his lips dipping into a rather endearing frown… objectively speaking, of course. “Your spell is fine, brother. I learned how to lipread years ago, obviously.”
“And why, pray tell, would that be obvious?” Regulus cancels the spell, to James’s immense relief - he loathes being cut out of the action. “I don’t recall you ever losing your hearing.”
Sauntering over, Sirius casually tosses an arm over his brother’s shoulders. “Felt like it at times.” He turns to James, his smile nostalgic. “This one hardly raised his voice above a whisper before coming to Hogwarts, no matter where we were or how loud it was around us. Had to learn to lipread if I ever wanted to know what he was saying… he’d get all prickly when asked to repeat himself.”
That last part sounds awfully familiar, must be genetic.
“That is factually inaccurate -”
“Hmm… is it, though? I, for one, can see it being true,” the Chaser teases, winking cheekily at Regulus.
James doesn’t tease the younger boy to be mean, quite the opposite, actually; he genuinely enjoys the back and forth banter they’ve engaged in recently, including their unspoken competition to out-fluster the other. And the reward for ‘winning’ is something he can’t pass up - the splash of pink that blossoms across the Slytherin’s cheeks when James gets under his skin, the way he pouts when he realizes he lost, how he goes from confidently looking James in the eye, to staring somewhere at his nose… it’s an utterly enthralling sight to witness, borderline addicting. He wants to see it again and again, wants the visual confirmation that he, James Potter, has an effect on the outwardly aloof, unflappable Regulus Black. Is that normal?... he’s not entirely sure. It’s a daunting undertaking to try to fluster Regulus, someone who’s been trained since he was young to mask his emotions, but if anyone was up for such a task -
“Aren't you a bit too old to be hanging around a fourth-year student?” the Grey Lady interrupts his musings, peering down at him in disdain.
“NO! I’m… I’m only a fifth-year!” James shrieks indignantly, mortified by how high-pitched his voice becomes, especially when Regulus’s lips quirk up in the corners.
She makes a noncommittal noise, and Sirius starts speaking over his sputtered arguments, likely in an attempt to save the remnants of James’s dignity, bless him. “Respectfully, the events preceding our repaired bond as brothers is frankly, none of your business, though if Regulus wishes to discuss it with you at a later date, he is, of course, free to do so. However, in response to Pandora's concern regarding the dramatic alteration of my brother's hair, she is correct in theorizing that it happened against his will.”
“Sirius…” Regulus murmurs, eyes lowered to the ground.
The ghost’s 'skin', normally a pearly white, seems to darken. “Oh?”
“A Hufflepuff student by the name of Alaric Smith held Regulus down and sheared his hair off -”
“HE DID, WHAT?!”
Rapt audience acquired, Sirius launches into the unsettling tale of what happened to his brother. Regulus hastily casts a muffling charm over their group, a wise decision, considering how loud Sirius tends to get when he’s worked up over something. Other than that, the Slytherin stays silent throughout the story, allowing his brother to answer all of the Grey Lady’s clarifying questions.
To anyone paying the slightest bit of attention, it's glaringly obvious how uncomfortable Regulus is right now, forced to listen to the full recounting of the traumatic encounter he endured only days prior. Biting the insides of his cheeks to prevent himself from demanding that Sirius stop talking, James also jams his hands into his pockets to resist the overwhelming temptation of grabbing Regulus’s elbow and leading him anywhere but here.
An outward display of comfort wouldn't be welcome, but James physically cannot not do something when Regulus is standing there looking so… detached. Glazed over, vacant eyes stare into the distance, his unnaturally rigid posture making him look more like an unmoving Muggle statue, rather than a living, breathing person. The fingers of his hand are wrapped so tightly around the opposite wrist, his veins protrude. It sounds unproblematic on the surface, not worrisome at all, but in the early days of their friendship, James noticed how Sirius would do the exact same thing while discussing his home life, when he received a Howler from his parents, when they were being scolded by a teacher for a prank that went too far, whenever the arguments between the Marauders got really heated. It took until they were third-years for James to gather the courage to ask about the curious habit; Sirius admitted it was a coping mechanism he picked up from his brother - holding onto the pulse point in his wrist helped him ground himself, allowing him to stay present in the moment, rather than dissociating. It’s something he does unconsciously during situations that cause his anxiety to rise, so long as some part of his brain registers the shift in his emotions in time.
Standing as close as he dares, James hopes his presence can provide the younger some sort of solace that he isn’t alone in facing this. Smith will pay, even if James has to beat the stuffing out of the berk himself, exactly like Sirius did with Paxton (again), the threat of an in-person parent conference be damned. Once he explains everything to them, his parents will understand his actions, he's sure of it. What Smith did to Regulus was inexcusable; it doesn’t matter that the Slytherin wasn’t the intended target, he should never have presumed he had the right to get ‘justice’ because Sirius is better with girls than he is (which is a joke in and of itself… Sirius is a natural flirt, but he’s only ‘suave’ with people he doesn’t like, which is a majority of the people at Hogwarts. Assuming James’s conclusion is correct, seeing as how his mate is surprisingly mum on the topic regarding who he has feelings for, Sirius is a literal DISASTER when it comes to chatting up the one person he actually likes. As for the few individuals he’s developed small, inconsequential crushes on over the years... he's bloody embarrassing, nothing to be jealous about there, good Godric, yikes).
For a moment, James thinks he hallucinated Regulus taking a half-step closer to him. But then his arms drop to his side, and their fingers brush together in the gentlest of touches, a touch that causes James’s own heart to skip a beat. Regulus’s shoulders relax, his body looking more alive, the way it should be, and oh, there they are again, those pink cheeks that James can never seem to get enough of.
At some point in the story, the one he was only half-listening to, oops, the Bloody Baron appeared and demanded to know what was going on. The Black brothers and the Ravenclaw ghost exchanged several glances, and by the end of the unspoken communication, Sirius included Slytherin's house ghost into their group.
"I am absolutely disgusted!"
Story finished, the three humans watch in fascination as the Grey Lady engages in the ghostly version of Sirius’s infamous manic pacing.
“My dear lady, please calm down, you’re scaring the children!” the Slytherin ghost cries.
The sight of the usually serene ghost appearing so agitated is a tad disconcerting, but it’s probably safe to assume that Helena Ravenclaw is significantly less frightening than Walburga Black on a rampage… or any of the females in the Black family, based on the stories James has heard over the years.
“This deed cannot go unpunished! He should hang from the rafters, or be sent to the gallows, his wand snapped -”
Regulus finally lifts his head, his eyes pleading. “Ms. Helena, please…”
The angry floating comes to a sudden stop, her face softening when she notices how ill-at-ease the younger teen has become… James doesn’t blame her one bit; who in the world, dead or alive, wouldn’t be swayed by such a look? “Surely, you told Dumbledore?”
The Baron scoffs, his tone laced with bitterness. “He wouldn’t do a thing if young Regulus were to confide in him… a Hufflepuff attacking a Slytherin? Unheard of! And if so, surely the boy did something first to deserve the retribution.”
Shuffling his feet, James doesn’t like how the Grey Lady and the Black brothers, after a brief hesitation on Sirius’s part, all nod their heads in agreement with the Baron’s words, like they genuinely believe Dumbledore wouldn’t punish Smith appropriately if he were told… surely they’re mistaken? Albus Dumbledore is an admirable wizard, a famous champion for the ‘underdog’, so to speak; he’s a proponent of Muggle rights, employs Squibs in respectable careers… blimey, he even allowed a werewolf into Hogwarts to get an education, recruiting the kid himself! There’s no way he’d write off Regulus simply for being sorted into Slytherin. And alright, to be fair, James had written off Slytherins for most of his life, based solely on their reputation of being the house that produced the most Dark Wizards (Remus actually researched this last year, and as it stands now, Slytherin is tied with Ravenclaw according to a convoluted list of criteria Rem devised since ‘nearly all magic can be dark depending on how it’s used’).
In his hundred-plus-years of life, there's no conceivable way that Dumbledore hasn't learned that there are pricks in every house, not just the Snakepit... right?
“Not to fear, we have a lovely plan for revenge already cooked up,” Sirius remarks haughtily, nose proudly lifted in the air. Without even opening his mouth, a furious, irritated sound emits from Regulus, and with a sigh, the older teen amends, “However, we’ve run into a slight hiccup.”
The Bloody Baron parrots Regulus’s criticism once Sirius reveals the idea to the two ghosts, which makes the younger Slytherin perk up. Turning to face his brother, he all but oozes smugness.
“Peeves,” the Grey Lady murmurs, interrupting the heated staring contest between the two siblings (do all siblings regularly engage in stare downs, or just the Black brothers? It seems bizarre how often they do it, but maybe it’s James's only-child syndrome talking). She inclines her head to her Slytherin counterpart. “He can do it without issue, wouldn’t you agree?”
The Gryffindors are quick to express their skepticism, having tried, and failed (horrendously) to recruit the poltergeist to participate in a handful of pranks with them in the past. More often than not, he'd refuse outright and then start chucking stuff at them (Sirius, of course, always has to throw it back, usually with magic, so there's a fun game James actively strives to avoid). But a few times, Peeves eagerly agreed to go along with their plan, only to sabotage them at the end… they learned the hard way not to trust the chaotic spirit. However, while Peeves was a terrible Marauder, he doesn’t harass the four of them like he does their peers. And sometimes, when he’s in a genial mood, or finds their prank amusing enough, he’ll cause a helpful distraction for them.
Regulus wades into the debate with a quiet, “It wouldn’t hurt to ask him, though, right?”
Only, he’s not asking his brother, or either house ghost, but rather, James himself, like the Chaser’s opinion legitimately matters to him. What’s a guy to do when those silvery eyes, the same color as the stars in the night sky and just as bright, are gazing expectantly at him, waiting for an answer? Tell him, ‘No, sorry, Peeves can’t do it, and neither can I, so you won’t be getting the revenge you rightfully deserve anytime soon.’
He’s not a monster!
“It wouldn’t hurt, no,” James abruptly changes his tune… he’s only mortal, okay?
Throwing his hands in the air, Sirius starts muttering to himself in angry French, which just so happens to ignite a fire within his brother, who shakes off any lingering melancholy to respond in even angrier French. The Baron smartly buggers off to go drag Peeves out of whichever part of the castle he’s lurking in, leaving the Grey Lady and James behind to mediate the madness.
The ghost appears to be following the conversation, something James cannot do, because he isn’t a posh prat… rich, yes, prat, maybe, but posh? Absolutely not. None of the other Marauders speak a language fluently besides English, so it’s the first time he’s witnessing Sirius converse with someone; usually, he just mumbles stuff under his breath that no one else understands (it's something he does in every mood, not just the bad ones… James firmly believes it boils down to the fact that Sirius likes to talk to himself, and thus, happily takes advantage of the fact he’s the only bilingual in their dorm).
The dopey smile Remus always sports - secretly, but James is more observant than most think - whenever Sirius breaks out the French suddenly makes a whole lot more sense now. Something about the language breathes more life into Regulus; his entire body is animated, hands gesturing wildly in the air, a vast difference from when he speaks in English, where his demeanor is more passive, regardless of the topic of conversation. It's enthralling to watch how his lips form each sound, the foreign words rolling elegantly off his tongue. To hear Regulus speak French is like listening to the most melodious music imaginable… normal people's idea of music, not Sirius Black’s... reminding James of the stories his grandmother used to tell of the Sirens off the coast of Greece. Their songs were hypnotizing to those who heard it, their call strong enough to lure the hardiest of men to their deaths, even from great distances. Those blokes didn't have it all that bad in James's opinion, not when he's gotta contend with Regulus's beautiful face on top of his voice!
And to think… English is actually the brothers’ first language, something James finds implausible now that he’s heard them converse together in French.
Had someone told him in his first year, or hell, even in his second year, that he’d grow to care about Regulus Black, grow to care what happened to him and want to be a part of his everyday life, James would have laughed uproariously in their face. Then, he’d proceed to curse them backwards and forwards, and only once he was fully satisfied with his work, he’d commit them to the long term ward at St. Mungo’s.
If questioned about his feelings regarding the youngest-Black, a younger-James Potter would have said that Regulus Black was nothing but a nuisance, the most aggravating person in the entire castle besides Snivelly, and a dreadful, ever-present thorn in his side… okay, he’s always been much too nice of a person to ever admit those nasty thoughts to anyone, but for several years, he absolutely despised his best mate's younger brother. Said views, which are outdated and do not represent his current stance, will never be shared with Sirius.
But this generalized, negative viewpoint was once stupidly mentioned to Remus in their second year, a MASSIVE mistake if there ever was one.
What started it was this; about a week or two into term following the Christmas holidays, without explanation, Regulus went from the apple of Sirius’s eye, to Undesirable Number One. A month after this unfathomable reversal, James and Remus were hanging out together in the dorm when he offhandedly mentioned he was rather pleased about the change, because, ‘Sirius deserves a better brother than that bigoted tosser’. The words hardly skimmed the surface of his hatred for the git, but one blink later, he was unexpectedly looking at Remus in his scary, you-fucked-up-and-I-am-going-to-tell-you-why-in-excrutiating-detail lecturer mode, a version of his friend that’s immensely more frightening than his actual dangerous beast side (probably), and a rare persona for the most level-headed Marauder.
Scared-stiff and seconds away from breaking into a cold sweat, James then got an earful about how Regulus had never done anything to him, either indirectly or directly, hardly ever looked his way, in fact, so wasn’t James being a little unfair? It was also pointed out that the only stories they heard about their friend’s brother were from said friend in question, meaning they were riddled with bias. 'Certainly you’re perceptive enough to notice how Sirius’s overall tone shifts back and forth when talking about his brother, how Regulus is either a conniving, wretched little bastard or a soft idiot who needs someone to hold his hand at all times, how everything he says now is vastly different from how he talked about Regulus prior to their falling out?’
Translation - James shouldn’t be so quick to pass judgment on the younger boy, considering they barely interacted aside from that brief, horrendously awkward introduction (Regulus hardly said a word, if any, but his expression radiated absolute loathing to the point where even Sirius picked up on the tension... and that was before the younger boy stormed off in a snit when James had the audacity to hold his hand out to shake! Good Godric, he’s not even sure Regulus actually looked at him during any part of their ‘conversation’, it was that bad).
The full moon had passed a week prior, but Remus was out for blood that night. There was mention of how James was nowhere near as bothered by the other Blacks, the three female cousins, also Slytherins, to which the Chaser argued he thought they were horrid too. Remus, an expert at calling people out on their shite, quickly countered that it was obvious James only held true animosity for Regulus… and why might that be? Could he perhaps be jealous because Sirius already had a brother, one bound by blood, one he obviously loved and cared for prior to attending Hogwarts? Did Regulus’s mere existence make James feel threatened?
James remembers getting choked up over the barbed remarks, though he didn’t know why it upset him so much… he chalked it up to being pissed at how unfair Remus was being. Sweet Merlin, it's not like he said he wanted the kid dead or anything! It was exactly the kind of overreaction Sirius would have about something inane. But whatever got into the werewolf passed as quickly as it came, his normal, compassionate side returning when James needed it most. A hug from Remus is always something to be treasured, but especially back in those days - he’d been the least tactile of their group, until he eventually warmed up. Wrapped in his friend’s embrace, James mumbled something about how he’d try to be nicer… technically a lie at the time, but it worked out in the end, ha! Remus squeezed him tightly in response, cracking his back in all the right places. Right before they parted, the other Gryffindor whispered that he was certain Sirius’s heart was big enough to hold love for his blood brother and his best friend, with so much more room to spare.
With two of the four Marauders currently at odds, for what, James has yet to figure out (there’s no way it’s about Sirius putting Remus's things away while he was gone during the full moon, James is NOT buying that no matter how many times Remus repeats it... besides, he's pretty fucking sure Sirius has done something similar before without issue, yet shock slash not, Remus has no recollection of it), their dorm has been uncomfortably quiet with their main source of noise relocated to the dungeons. It also doesn’t help that after the fight with Regulus, Moony retreated even further into his introvert-shell, the same shell Sirius has a knack for pulling him out of (though truthfully, the eldest Black brother was correct yesterday - Remus could have defended himself without hurting Regulus, and while James knows his friend feels awful about the incident, an incident that the Slytherin definitely did instigate... maybe Remus should feel bad, at least for a bit longer).
Anywho, the silence has granted James plenty of time for introspection, a potentially dangerous concept depending on the final outcome (example: the time he convinced himself he was in love with Sirius, which led to an uncomfortable month-long period for the Marauders). It took an embarrassing amount of time, but James now knows why he despised Regulus so much.
Per usual, Remus was right - he had been positively drowning in jealousy.
At Hogwarts, James is well-liked by his peers, his outgoing personality, sharp wit, and starting position on the Gryffindor Quidditch team contributing to his ‘popular’ status. And while he’s perfectly content being the center of attention, capable of entertaining a crowd without breaking a sweat, and can make even the shyest, most introverted students feel at ease when talking to him, James only has three best friends and a handful of mates, comprised mostly of the lads from the Quidditch team and the Gryffindor girls in their year. Growing up, his parents struggled to conceive a child, meaning that when James was born, his parents were old even by magical standards. He met a lot of diverse people prior to Hogwarts, inheriting his parents’ love of socializing, but their friends were generally older as well, so he rarely interacted with children his own age; hailing from a small-ish family didn’t help either.
As such, meeting Sirius Orion Black ("It's Sirius Orion Black the third, Potter, if you're going to be a wanker, at least get my name right"... that posh git, James loves him so fucking much) on the train to Hogwarts in first year was, without an ounce of exaggeration, the greatest thing to ever happen to him. James never connected with anyone so quickly before… a bit ironic, though, since when he got a solid look at the boy he accidentally bumped into, his first thought was, ‘He looks like a snobbish prick’. But James had apologized for the blunder, made some self-deprecating joke he doesn’t remember now, and braced himself for a scathing remark that didn’t come. Sirius’s face had positively lit up at the jibe, and he threw his head back to let out a genuine, bark-like laugh, leading James’s second thought to be, ‘Someone with a laugh that sounds like a dog can’t be all that bad’.
And he wasn’t.
Sirius was fucking perfect, flaws and all.
A romantic at heart, James previously hadn't considered the notion of different types of soulmates. Older and wiser, he now knows that platonic soulmates are very much a thing, and Sirius Black is his. They understand each other in a way that cannot be described with words, are bound together by a force greater than magic, and they don’t need the same blood running through their veins to know, down to their very cores, that they're family.
Fortunately, the intense, sometimes overwhelming connection he felt with his new friend was reciprocated. Sirius was equally as clingy and besotted with him, as James was with the older boy (Sirius was the oldest Marauder, with James as the youngest… they were less than five months apart, but from the way the other three like to tell it, one would think James was a toddler). They became inseparable from their very first meeting, doing and sharing everything together. Boundaries existed, but were minimal.
While present-day James can admit that Remus was right… he was envious of Regulus’s relation to Sirius… he also thinks those feelings were reasonable. The type of bond James and Sirius formed at a young age, the ironclad strength of their friendship, their unconditional love for one another… it's the sort of connection a majority of people never experience in their lifetimes, not even romantically. He’s mature enough now to know that if Sirius has a strong attachment to someone else, he's not replacing James in his life. But back then? Well, he was a right jealous little git, wasn’t he?!
The fascinating thing about Sirius, even now as they start their fifth-year, is how he can be sort of… mysterious and abstruse in a way James can’t quite put his finger on. It doesn’t seem purposeful or a ‘front’ either. He wants to attribute it to Sirius’s home life and the way he grew up, raised to be paranoid of outsiders, while his innate differences made him distrustful of his own family, but James thinks there might be more to it.
See, for someone who talks practically nonstop, Sirius doesn’t always say a whole lot.
Maybe not so much now, but in their initial years of friendship, the Black heir expertly skirted around discussing a wide range of personal topics, using a mix of charm (the personality kind) and sense of humor to bewitch his audience into forgetting they asked him a question. Sometimes it would take James days to realize Sirius was the only one who didn’t provide a response to Peter’s question about the ‘all-time best birthday gift your parents gave you’, nor did he share a tidbit about himself when they discussed the types of punishments they earned for misbehaving.
But when it came to his younger brother? Merlin! When James saw the kid for the first time at King’s Cross Station (a tiny, wispy little thing, but just as scowly and snooty as every other Pureblood bigot before him), he was startled to remember he didn’t actually know Regulus, had neither seen, nor met him in his life… oh, but it sure fucking felt like he had. During their first year, Sirius rarely spoke about his family, not even the three cousins who attended the same school as them. Except, as always, James would quickly learn, Regulus was the exception. He’s not exaggerating, either; it was, Regulus this, Regulus that, and -
‘Regulus would completely disagree, James, he always says -’
‘My brother is a natural on a broom, he’s going to give Gryffindor a run for our money in a few years, you watch.’
‘That prank was fantastic, Regulus would be so impressed we managed to pull it off.’
‘My brother loves those books too, have you read -’
‘This one time when we were in France, Regulus -’
Every single comment made James want to shout, ‘If you two are so bloody close, why doesn’t he ever write you back, Sirius?!’ But he held his tongue, reluctant to start a fight with his friend, opting to scream it in his head instead; posh or not, his mother raised him with manners (now enlightened to the truth behind Regulus’s scarce replies, James can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he had said something - would Sirius have admitted he didn’t send most of the letters? Or would he have played it off until James forgot about the gripe, and continued on as normal?)
On the train ride back to Hogwarts for the start of their second year, Sirius confessed to feeling torn regarding the issue of his brother’s impending sorting; on one hand, he wished for his brother to be in the same house as himself, to be a lion and defy the expectations their family placed on them long before their birth. On the other hand, he acknowledged Regulus was safer in Slytherin, as he didn’t possess the ‘gumption’ to stand tall against the waves of resentment he’d face for being different.
Fingers crossed under the table when Professor McGonagall called for ‘Black, Regulus’, James silently pleaded for the boy to be sorted literally anywhere but Gryffindor… Ravenclaw was respectable and would continue Sirius’s streak of Blacks going somewhere that wasn’t Slytherin. From the stories Sirius told, the house of wisdom would suit Regulus just as well as the house of cunning, without putting him with James and Sirius… a win-win!
Regulus went to the Snakepit, to the relief of every Black but one. Foolishly, James thought that Regulus living in the same castle as them, no longer alone in the House of Horrors the Black brothers called ‘home’, meant that Sirius wouldn’t talk (or worry) about the git so much - he was massively mistaken.
Oh, the irony wasn’t lost on James… in fact, Sirius would be the first to admit he generally has little regard for his own well-being. Always willing to confront someone who dared to say a nasty word about one of his friends, either physically or with wands drawn, the first to mouth off if a bigoted comment was made in his presence, whether it be about blood-purity, Muggles, anti-werewolf legislation, or the like, the one who always volunteered to complete the portion of a prank that held the highest risk of getting caught, Sirius was as reckless, foolhardy, and free-spirited as they came. But again, Regulus was the exception, because while Sirius didn’t give a damn about himself, he worried about everything when it came to his little brother:
‘Do you think Regulus is eating enough? We ate more than that when we were that age, didn’t we?’
‘I swear, if this swot misses another meal because his nose is buried too far into some book, I’m going to write Grandmother.’
‘Should I help him make some friends? It’s been a month, and he only has three… oh, piss off, Remus, I have three best friends, but plenty of others, and one of Regulus’s friends is our cousin!’ (the Black family tree gives James a headache whenever he thinks about it, but he assumed Sirius meant Rosier in this case.)
‘He looks like he isn’t sleeping enough, do you think he’s homesick… nah, who would miss that rotten house, oh Godric, what if he’s actually sick?’
To make matters worse, Sirius had less availability for pranks and nighttime explorations, two sacred pillars of the foundation of their tight knit friendship, all because he just had to sneak into the Snakepit every couple of days to check on his baby brother. He staunchly refused to entertain arguments highlighting how his actions were unnecessary and/or detrimental, like how the late night visits would drastically limit the amount of sleep both brothers received, and that since Regulus resided in the same house as their three, very responsible cousins, they would surely watch out for him (James had been reaching there, having no clue what the girls were like except for his own observations, which were ‘scary’ for two of the three, and for Bellatrix specifically, ‘batshit crazy’ plus ‘very scary’).
James might have been able to tolerate Sirius dedicating one or two nights a week to solo outings to the dungeons, along with him harping on every aspect of his younger brother's life during meals, if it ended there… it can never be said that Sirius does anything half-arsed. Because Regulus was a bit of a hermit who rarely left his dorm when he wasn’t in class, headed to the library, or making his way to the Great Hall, Sirius forced the other Marauders to stalk the Slytherin’s two new friends with him, the blonde Ravenclaw and Crouch Jr, to ‘ensure they’re good enough for my little brother and don’t have any funny intentions’. Remus, who usually could talk Sirius out of the worst of his worst ideas, eventually gave up trying to persuade the overprotective sibling that he was being irrational, that his brother was fitting in just fine, and if he was that worried about it, he should discuss these issues with Regulus directly, during the day, and not when both should be asleep. James, being the good friend that he was, indulged his mate’s antics (while making his opinions on the issue known), but internally, he grew to resent Regulus even more.
Then, in the span of a single evening, everything changed, and poof, just like that, Sirius ‘hated’ his brother more than James ever could.
The memory, years later, remains vivid in his mind; James was lost in the pages of a novel he borrowed from Remus, a tale about a magical privateer who meets a Muggle pirate while stranded on an island with their respective crews, when the door to their room burst open with such extensive force, it splintered the wood and the wall behind it. Peter and James scrambled to their feet, wands in hand, thinking they were being attacked or something, but Remus kept his lowered, enhanced senses meaning he already knew the identity of the intruder. But they all gasped when the person finally stormed in seconds later, even Remus, who quickly repaired the damage with a swish of his wand.
Sirius’s beautiful, well-kept hair was a mess around his head, something they’d never seen, even after a lawless pillow fight or that time he lost his hair tie right before Quidditch practice. The glowing skin he took great pride in looked dull and ashen, a stark change from when he left earlier that evening, and his eyes were puffy and bloodshot, the tear-stains on his cheeks visible even from a distance. James was the first to speak, hesitantly asking what happened, if he was alright. Sirius furiously shook his head and after kicking off his shoes, dived into his bed without a word.
In his haste for privacy, he didn't shut the curtains all the way, so the silencing charms remained dormant. Tears welled-up behind James’s glasses when the most agonized, heart-wrenching, soul-shattering sobs began seconds later, and without wasting another moment, he crawled into his best friend’s bed to bundle him up into a suffocating embrace, Remus and Peter clambering in behind him. Sirius never told them what happened during his visit with his brother, only that he hated Regulus 'more than I’ve ever hated anyone, including Snivellus and my parents’.
Embarrassing to admit, but it took James over a year and a half to understand that was single handedly the biggest, most far-fetched lie Sirius had ever told in his life.
In the weeks following the Black brothers’ fight, Sirius, who assured them he was fine, ambled around the castle in a daze, like a shining star whose light was abruptly snuffed out. The other three dragged him out of bed to attend classes, meals, and Quidditch practice, but he refused to go anywhere or do anything else (James privately talked to their Captain about the situation and unintentionally shed a lot of tears in the process, so Sirius was allowed to sit on the bench until he could ‘put himself back together’, the reserve Beater taking his place in practice just to ‘be safe’). He only spoke when spoken to, but even then, his answers were as short as humanly possible.
But without complaint, the Marauders rallied around their friend; Remus was a constant presence at Sirius’s side whenever they left the dorm, and at night, would plop him onto a stool for his multi-step skincare routine, a thirty minute process Remus diligently completed from start to finish, before tucking him into bed. After careful deliberation and with James’s help, he modified one of the sinks in the loo until it was better suited for washing Sirius’s long hair, something he did every few days for almost a month; Peter, who had the second-best handwriting, practiced nonstop for two days to mimic the Black heir’s elegant calligraphy, and then copied word-for-word what either James or Remus dictated to him, ensuring Sirius didn’t fall behind on his assignments; and James, the most outgoing of their group, ran constant interference to keep people from bothering his upset friend, both students and faculty alike. Whenever Remus was finished washing Sirius’s hair, James would massage in some of the haircare potions that his family was famous for… initially, it was to avoid the complicated styling process Sirius normally performed on hair-wash days, but when he realized the contact soothed his friend, helping him sleep, James made it into a full uppity-salon experience.
Unsurprisingly, it was Remus, the most emotionally mature one, who pulled Sirius out of the worst of his funk, with an offhand, likely well-thought-out comment about how, ‘Isn’t it dreadful we’re stuck in this lifeless room for seven years? Surely, the Founders could have made it a little more homey.’ For the next month and a half, James and Sirius held a streak for their longest period of time without a detention. Sirius absorbed himself with complex renovations to their dorm, a little bit of spark returning to him after each passing day. But he still only left the room for classes, meals, Quidditch practice, and the occasional trip to the library, showing no interest in the things he previously loved (pranks, exploring, being dramatic in the Common Room for shits and giggles, even harassing Snape was uninteresting to him). Although Sirius no longer needed help with his schoolwork or basic self-care, James stayed with him in the dorm, uncomfortable by the idea of pulling pranks without his number-one-partner-in-mischief, opting to wisely use the downtime to learn new magic (fun spells, not the boring shite they were forced to study).
Now comes the truly shocking part.
Out of all the fucking people in the world, it was Daniel Hillhawk who succeed where the Marauders did not. Two years above them, Hillhawk detested Slytherins with a zeal that can only be described as ‘obsessive’, possessing a particular loathing for the Snakes who boasted about their ‘pure’ bloodlines. For some reason, Sirius was lumped into the same category as his relatives, despite being a Gryffindor and not a bigot, which resulted in him becoming Hillhawk’s primary target for harassment during their first year. More annoying than anything else, Hillhawk’s words generally had no effect on the younger Gryffindor… well, except for that time he mouthed off when none of the Marauders were around to run interference, and Sirius socked him so hard in the face, he shattered Hillhawk’s cheekbone, broke his own hand, earned himself two weeks of detentions with Filch, a frightfully angry lecture from their Head of House, and a ‘I’m-rather-disappointed-in-you’ admonishment from Remus.
All was well until Hillhawk found a new schtick in the remaining months of their second year; he began making disparaging remarks to his friends in the Common Room about the youngest Black, like how Regulus was a 'pathetic loner, even by Slytherin standards’, ‘likely has the magical aptitude of a Squib’, 'was a prime example of why inbreeding is a practice Pureblood families should do away with, besides the fact that it’s totally disgusting’, and ‘is undoubtedly destined for a life of solitude, unless his parents pay some destitute witch a hefty sum to become his wife’.
Sirius didn’t defend his brother, per se, but countered with his own cutting words, tearing Hillhawk to pieces without an ounce of magic. And then, strangely enough, Hillhawk began experiencing quite the series of unfortunate events. James doesn’t remember everything that happened (it was a lot, and only stopped because the school year ended), but he does recall it beginning with the older Gryffindor waking up in his bed a week later… in the middle of the Black Lake. Inconvenient, though harmless, as the four-poster floated in the water like a ship, keeping him dry. However, no matter what spells or ‘creative solutions’ the teachers attempted (like stirring up a few waves to push the bed along), nothing worked; even the Merpeople, after Dumbledore’s request for assistance, couldn’t get close enough to help. In the end, it was nearly lunchtime when Hillhawk accepted he had no other choice but to swim to shore. The journey was brutal in the chilly March water, the anti-magic barrier staying with him until he reached land. Worse, his humiliation was witnessed by almost the whole school, the Marauders included. Everyone whispered that the Gryffindor second-years must have played a role, the animosity between Sirius and Hillhawk well-known by then, but no one could prove it. Asking outright got James, Peter, and Remus nowhere, the Black heir insisting he was peacefully nestled in his bed the entire night… all of which was said while he meticulously scraped off every speck of dried mud caked on his favorite boots.
Whatever the truth was, James got his partner in mischief back after that incident.
So, yeah… for the last few years, Sirius swore he hated his brother, generally refused to discuss him in conversation, and avoided him like the plague whenever he wasn’t picking a verbal fight with him over something outlandish. However, Sirius decreed Regulus was to remain off-limits in their pranks, a ruling James tried to dispute; his friend countered that pissing his brother off wasn’t worth ‘being murdered at home by my mother for displeasing her favorite child’... how could anyone argue against that?
But life isn’t static, and change tends to occur, regardless if you want or expect it.
Several things happened over the span of the last year or two… the stars aligned a certain way, the planets went into retrograde, James should probably pay more attention to both his Divination and his Astronomy homework… but his viewpoint on Regulus shifted, long before Sirius and Remus fell apart.
Notes:
Thank you to everyone who's commented/left kudos so far! I appreciate the feedback, and I loveee seeing your thoughts/takes on everything.
I also recently posted some new Jegulus fics, if you want to check them out :) I'm trying to work on writing things other than 100k+ fics, oops
Chapter 11: It Started Out With a Kiss, How Did It End Up Like This? It Was Only a Kiss, It Was Only a Kiss...
Notes:
House points to anyone who knows the name of the song the chapter title comes from ;)
Chapter Text
The change - well, it started with a kiss.
Merlin, it’s so bloody dramatic to say it like that, but it’s true; the entire trajectory of James Potter’s life changed with one kiss.
And not an expected one, either.
It was a Saturday, the last weekend before the midterm exams that would close out the fall semester of their third year. With Christmas holidays rapidly approaching, Sirius and James agreed it would be the perfect time to see where the new passageway they discovered went, located behind the statue of the one-eyed witch, Gunhilda of Gorsemoor. Remus and Peter stayed behind to study, because they’re responsible, blegh, so it was the two Gryffindor Quidditch players who learned the tunnel led to the cellar of Honeydukes - it would prove to be the first life-changing revelation of the day.
They spent the day in Hogsmeade without other students clogging up the shops, wandering around under the Invisibility Cloak because they were too young to pass for adults and wary of being recognized (as much as he denied it, ‘I could pass for a Rosier!’, by looks alone, Sirius was a Black and only a Black). Thankfully, being a Black also meant that Sirius was stupidly rich, and stupidly rich people apparently keep at least one pouch of money on them at all times. So, after swiping a delicious smelling to-go bag from the Three Broomsticks (James slipped some galleons into the distracted wizard’s pocket so he could reorder), they climbed onto the roof of some random shop to eat their lunch and people watch from a safe distance, opting to use a Notice-Me-Not charm instead of the cloak.
They’d just finished cackling over their theories regarding the scandalous things a Dervish and Banges patron needed repaired, when Sirius pointed out two wizards holding hands. At first glance, James thought the men were friends (don’t judge him, he holds hands with his mates) and had a ridiculous story crafted in his head within seconds regarding the reason they were in Hogsmeade that day… until both teens were shocked speechless when the shorter man rose up onto his tiptoes to press a delicate, loving kiss to his companion’s lips. Homosexuality wasn’t taboo or frowned upon like it was in the Muggle world, but it wasn’t common, at least as far as James knew… or maybe he just didn’t pay attention. Would he have noticed the men if Sirius hadn’t pointed them out? It was hard to say, and assuredly a question he’ll never get answered.
The men Apparated away, their shopping finished, but several minutes passed in silence until Sirius murmured something about how odd it must be to like another bloke, and 'Merlin, could you imagine snogging one?' Well-accustomed to the strange, often atrocious views the Black family taught their children, James countered that if two blokes felt a connection with each other, then it's probably not weird at all. And even without a connection, a bloke snogging another bloke wouldn’t be that different from a bloke snogging a bird, unless one or both of them had facial hair - and if that were the case, it wouldn't be bad, just different. Then, without any thought for the consequences, James boldly stated they could find out for themselves right then and there, if they were so inclined.
Truthfully, he expected Sirius to tease him, like, ‘How could you compare the two when you’ve never kissed anyone besides your Mum?’
But he should have known that wouldn't happen; Sirius rarely did what was expected of him. He simply turned to face James, expression determined, and said, ‘Okay’. Never one to back down from a challenge (or a perceived challenge), especially if it was issued by Sirius himself, James gathered his Gryffindor bravery and leaned forward to press his lips against his friend’s. His first ‘real’ kiss was short, a handful of seconds, his only coherent thoughts being, ‘His lips are really soft’ and 'Has Sirius always smelled this good?'. When they pulled apart, he couldn’t read Sirius’s expression… a tense moment passed, and then another, and then they both delved into giggles at the same time, normalcy restored.
If James were anyone else, it would have ended there, and nothing would have changed. They kissed, it wasn’t horrid, and life would go on exactly as it had been prior to that event. But therein lies the problem… it wasn’t horrid, it was actually rather nice, and THAT went against the essential components of James's very essence. It’s not because he was homophobic or had a problem with same-sex couples, it’s because his Life Plan, the plan he’d had for as long as he could remember, centered around marrying a lovely witch, like Lily Evans for example, and buying a house in Godric’s Hollow, the same community his parents resided in. After working for a few years as an Auror, he and his wife were going to have at least three children together… he didn’t get farther than that, but point made, kissing boys and liking it did not factor into this Life Plan.
The trek back to Hogwarts was in companionable silence, both absorbed in their own worlds... then life threw another Bludger into the mix. When they reached the hidden entrance that would allow them back into the school, they heard voices out in the hallway, trapping them behind the one-eyed witch statue until whoever it was buggered off. At that particular section of the passageway, the tunnel was incredibly narrow, requiring the two friends to face each other in order to stand comfortably; one wrong move, and they would drop down the short slide that opened into the wider tunnel heading into Hogsmeade.
Again, it shouldn’t have been an issue, but James being James, still hadn’t recovered from the incident on the rooftop; his eyes traveled down Sirius’s aristocratic face, returning once more to his lips, the very same lips that were pressed against James’s own less than an hour ago. His thoughts fixated on a singular question - what would it be like to properly snog a bloke?
Unintentionally leaning forward, James was jolted back to reality when Sirius inhaled sharply. He was horrified to realize their faces were significantly closer than necessary. Scrambling back as far as he could safely go, an apology tumbled from his lips, one that stuttered off when he met his friend’s eyes and found the same curiosity mirrored there. To this day, James doesn’t know who moved first, but when their lips met for a second time, the previous timidness was nowhere to be found. Would he describe it as ‘hot and steamy’, like the kind of snogs depicted in the romance books he found under Peter’s bed and shamelessly read after disguising the front cover to something innocuous? Definitely not. ‘Exploratory’ would be a better word. James cupped his friend’s cheek in one hand, the other finding its way into those silky dark locks, and after some indecisive roaming, Sirius settled for looping his arms around the Chaser’s waist. They experimented with different styles of snogging, sometimes keeping their mouths closed, sometimes open, sometimes with tongue, sometimes without.
It was also incredibly awkward at times (which made sense later on when Sirius admitted it was actually his first snog too, a revelation that was assuredly among the Top Five Most Shocking Things James ever learned in his life); James’s glasses got in the way in the beginning, until his friend smartly pushed them off his face. Sirius also bit James’s lip… hard… when the Chaser accidentally pulled his hair too harshly, unintentionally getting it all tangled up because he couldn’t stop touching it. Gasping for air when they broke apart an unknown amount of time later, there wasn’t an inch of space between them, their chests rising and falling against one another… it’s how James knew Sirius’s heart was pounding just as fast as his own.
He'd like to blame the lack of oxygen going to his brain for his following actions, but seeing as how they would barely say a word to each other for the next month, he knows better - it was all James Potter.
Stepping back, James nervously adjusted his glasses, unable to meet his friend’s eyes, too terrified of what he might see there. He muttered something about how the coast should be clear by now, and then like the biggest coward in the world, fled the tunnel - a moment of weakness that would prove to have resounding consequences. Worse? A brief glance back revealed Sirius staring after him with swollen lips, mussed up hair, and wide-eyes overflowing with a mixture hurt and shame.
For once, James was grateful for the chaos of exams, using the tests as an excuse to avoid his friends; he hid in the library, the kitchens, ducked into broom closets whenever necessary, spent time with various older students he knew from Quidditch and his month-long stint in the Dueling Club (before he and Sirius acquired their lifetime ban), anything to avoid the possibility of confrontation. His friends didn’t buy his excuse… since when did James care about exams? But they granted him space without much fuss, even Sirius, who pretended like James didn’t exist whenever they found themselves in the same vicinity, a skill he had plenty of practice at thanks to his abysmal relationship with his brother. And when it came time to board the Hogwarts Express, bound for King’s Cross Station, James shared a carriage with the Prewett twins and the other Quidditch lads, sans Sirius, telling Remus beforehand that he wanted to go over some potential new plays with them (to which Remus silently judged him, but accepted his excuse with a sigh).
Back home for the holidays, his parents checked on him frequently. They were worried sick by his apathy for his favorite holiday traditions, the way he hardly left his room, how he barely spoke a word to either of them; it wasn’t his intention to be rude, James was just simply too entrenched in his internal crisis to do much else but mope.
The days flew by in a haze of constant rumination. But as Boxing Day approached, James, who for months had been looking forward to Sirius coming to his house for the last week of break, added a sprinkle of variety to his obsessive thoughts. How was he to behave now after everything?... especially after his realization? What would he do when Sirius, his best mate for life, rejected him? How would that impact their friend group? Could he hide his true feelings to maintain their friendship? Could he handle watching Sirius date girl after girl, knowing it would never be him in their place?
James began dreading the day his friend was set to arrive.
So, when his mum tentatively knocked on his bedroom door the morning of the 24th to report that Sirius fire-called to say he wouldn’t be able to make it in two days time because his parents insisted he accompany them on a last-minute trip to France for the remainder of the holiday, James was immensely relieved… something she called him out on, asking if he and Sirius had gotten in a fight.
And that’s when James broke down, his burdens too heavy to carry on his own. He told her everything that happened, skirting around the illicit Hogsmeade trip with a little white lie about seeing a same-sex couple at Hogwarts snogging. He explained his fear that he was in love with Sirius, something James wasn’t even sure why he was so upset about, maybe because it went against his Life Plan, or because he was petrified Sirius wouldn’t feel the same. And hadn’t they always said they were brothers?! How despicable was James to desecrate that bond with non-brotherly feelings, especially when his best friend hailed from such a mucked up family to begin with? Godric, how was James any better if he too burdened Sirius with unfair expectations?
By the end of his word vomit, the tears he’d been holding back for weeks finally cascaded over. With a sympathetic sound, his mum wrapped him in a tight hug, letting him cry on her shoulder like he was six again and had accidentally crashed his toy broom into her award-winning rose bush.
She held him until his sobs tapered off, and when she eventually did pull away, she was quick to assure him that both she and his dad would always love him, no matter who he fell in love with, what their gender was, or where they came from. James wasn’t sure if it’s a good or bad thing the support of his parents was never one of his concerns. Damn, maybe Lily had been right! He was an arrogant toe-rag.
His mum went so far as to say he and Sirius would be fantastic boyfriends for one another, if that’s where they ended up… in the future, because, ‘You’re much too young to be dating right now, Jamie’. James remembers scoffing and rolling his eyes, his cheeky attitude bringing a smile to her face. But then his mum got serious, revealing a litany of information that shocked James to his core - who knew that physical/romantic attraction could be so complex?!
She reviewed what he already knew, before going on to explain that a person could be attracted to both genders equally, not attracted to any gender at all, or their attraction could be on a spectrum - someone might prefer men, yet still be open to dating women, and vice versa (she said that in reality, everyone’s sexuality was on a spectrum, though it doesn’t always seem that way). His mum made sure to mention several times that there’s no ‘one-size-fits-all’ way when it comes to figuring it out; some people know right away, some people think they know but it changes over time, while others are never fully sure, but regardless, it’s important to be open to new experiences, as self-discovery was a life-long process.
Near the end of their conversation, she acknowledged that for non-heterosexual people, self-acceptance can sometimes be another tricky topic; some are never fussed by their sexuality at all, some are outwardly discriminatory towards anything that goes against what they think is/or should be society’s standard, either denying their true self or exploring it in secret, while some may be genuinely accepting of other people’s sexualities, while internally berating and degrading themselves for being different. James thought it odd how she stressed the last part of the self-acceptance topic (accepting others who are different, while degrading themselves for the same thing), but in time, he came to be grateful for the emphasis.
Before she left his room, his mum hesitantly suggested that maybe he should try snogging a few people of any gender, with consent, prior to confessing his feeling to his friend (it’s obvious to him now that she was trying to subtly tell him he’s not romantically in love with Sirius, he just loves him and was only confused… she was mostly right, because while he doesn’t think of Sirius in the way he used to think of Lily, he is a bit in love with his best mate, but he’s also a bit in love with Remus and Peter, too. He has yet to determine if other people have similar feelings towards their friends, but either way, he’s content with it just being a James-Potter-thing).
Sirius wasn’t on the train back to Hogwarts, Remus mentioning that the Blacks arranged something with Dumbledore that allowed the brothers to Floo directly to Hogwarts from France. His eyes scrutinized James the entire time, no doubt trying to discern what happened between the two. With his mum’s words in mind, along with the advice from the books she picked out for him, James latched onto the first opportunity he found to experiment… literally… dragging Remus into an unoccupied toilet once he was certain Peter was sufficiently distracted by the arrival of the food trolley.
“I need you to snog me,” James instructed, arms crossed over his chest. “Properly, if you’d be so obliging.” Remus had cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed, and the Chaser dropped his arms to his side, his next words humiliating close to a whine. “Please… I need help, Moons, I’m trying to see something. I swear I’m not taking the piss, Marauder’s honor.”
His friend continued to stare at him, his face giving nothing away. By the grace of Godric, James didn’t squirm under the pressure of it, a telltale sign of weakness that would guarantee the werewolf denied his request. But after a wholly unnecessary eye roll, Remus yanked him closer by the belt loops of his trousers. “On one condition, Potter.”
“Y-yeah? What’s that?” James stammered, NOT prepared for a confident, suave, Remus Lupin.
Warm breath ghosted along the shell of his ear, sending shivers down his spine. “Don’t fall in love with me.” Well now, that was cocky! Who was this imposter, and where did his snarky but sweet Remus go?! “And figure your fucking shit out with Sirius, immediately.”
“That’s two… oof!”
Fuck, he’s so glad Sirius was his first snog, not Remus, because dear Merlin and Morgana, where did his nerdy mate learn how to snog like that?! (James has asked a dozen times by now, but only when they’re alone because he’s not a complete idiot… still no answer to his question, sadly). Before leaving the loo, the werewolf clapped James on the shoulder, smugness oozing out of every pore, and wished him well in solving whatever dilemma he found himself caught up in.
Annoying as it was to admit, Remus actually did help him sort the mess out in his head, so after arriving at the castle, James was genuinely excited to find his best mate… naïve of him to think Sirius would be so welcoming, but alas. The youngest Black was seated at the Slytherin table, but Sirius wasn’t at theirs, so James scarfed his meal down, finishing long before Remus and Peter. He remembered to get the new password from a Prefect prior to leaving the Great Hall, wasting precious time because the prat kept asking questions about why he wanted to leave dinner so quickly, especially before they had dessert (naturally, James indulged his curiosity with an overly-descriptive explanation of the stomach problems he needed to sleep off).
As soon as James closed the door of the third-year boys’ dormitory, a body barreled into his own, pressing him back against the wood.
“Hey, mate,” James greeted brightly, going a little cross-eyed looking at the familiar wand pointed in his face. “Good holiday?”
Sirius bared his teeth. “Cut the crap, Potter, you don’t get to pretend we’re fine after you’ve avoided me for the last month.”
“Uh, you bailed on me, for the record,” James pointed out with a huff.
“Because you obviously have a problem with me!”
“I do NOT have a problem with you, Sirius.” James shoved the forearm holding him in place off of his chest, only for Sirius to sheath his wand so he could use both hands to knock him back into the door. “Mate, come on, I hate fighting with you, don’t be like this. We can talk it out, yeah?”
The Black heir laughed a dark, bitter sound. “I can’t change who I am, I was born like this. Talking won’t fix it… not that I’d expect you to understand, Potter, when your life is picture perfect.”
“Just because your family -”
“My family has nothing to do with this!”
James blinked several times, struggling to comprehend the problem… what was he missing? “I’m sorry, but I don’t follow.”
That something he was missing? An astronomical oversight on his part.
“You have a problem with me because I’m gay!” Sirius snarled, temporarily silencing James’s internal musings. “Although, I’d like to point out that you kissed me, both times, so explain that, huh?!”
Wait, wait, wait… Sirius Black, notorious ‘womanizer’ by second year, who had girls basically throwing themselves at his feet for a chance to get with him… fancied blokes, and only blokes?!
No, no, no, James certainly heard wrong.
“Er… what?!”
“I’m gay,” Sirius said again, as if repeating himself clarified everything… it absolutely did not. “I didn’t think it was something that would bother you, but evidently, I was mistaken!”
Readjusting the glasses on his face, James met Sirius’s stormy eyes head on. “Mate, I genuinely had no idea… all those birds? Your reputation?” Another thought suddenly occurred to him, one he definitely should have kept to himself. “Wait, do you fancy me?!”
It was obvious he messed up when Sirius’s expression went from ‘mad-but-mostly-hurt’ to ‘I-will-murder-you-and-get-away-with-it’. And if James had somehow missed that, the incensed French rapidly spilling from his lips would have cued him in.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” James cried, his words laced with hysterical laughter that did nothing to help his cause. “Sirius, from the bottom of my heart, I have no problem with you liking blokes -“
“You’re a fucking liar -“
Now it was James’s turn to get annoyed. “Would you let me finish?”
“Just admit you have a problem -“
Looking back, there was obviously more going on beneath the surface, but James didn’t have the emotional maturity yet to pick up on that.
What followed was James roughly pushing Sirius off of him, a dash of accidental magic coming into play; he unintentionally knocked his friend halfway across the room, where he landed in a heap on the plush carpet of their ‘reading corner’. Relief flooded through him when Sirius rose back to his feet, unharmed… until he started stalking towards James, simmering with rage. Sirius was a few inches taller than him back then, but James was stronger because he actually put effort into their Quidditch training unlike someone.
The Black heir wasn’t shy about fighting dirty, though. Feeling teeth sink into the skin of his arm resulted in James having an out-of-body experience, instincts taking over as his brain shut off. When the Chaser finally came to again, he had Sirius pinned flat on the carpet, a knee pressed into his back, hands gripping tightly onto his friend’s hair in warning.
“ARE YOU READY TO HEAR ME OUT, SIRIUS?!” he shouted, body tense in anticipation of what the temperamental boy might do next.
Sirius thrashed underneath him, in a futile attempt to shake James off. “I swear on my life, Potter, if you tear a single strand of my hair out, I will fucking kill you -”
Discreetly brushing a few strands of long black hair under the rug, James scoffed, “Yeah, yeah, you bloody vain git.” He cleared his throat. “Now, you’re either going to listen to me explain the actual reason I avoided you for the last month, OR, I will tear your hair out strand by strand, until you’re as bald as Professor Wilton. Your choice, mate."
He didn’t have a death wish, so he's unsure what he would have done if Sirius kept arguing… but after a few more half-hearted threats, too stubborn to let James have the last word, he finally shut up.
Even in third year, James was extremely well-versed with how bloody difficult it could be to change Sirius’s mind once it was made up. Patience wasn’t something James possessed in droves, but with a situation so serious… heh, pun intended… he made an active effort to keep his cool, no matter how frustrated he felt on the inside when his friend refused to believe he was telling the truth.
Calmness paid off. Sirius finally accepted that James’s internal freak out wasn’t a dig against him… and that’s when the real heartfelt conversation began.
Lasting long into the night, their talk mostly centered around Sirius, which didn’t upset James in the slightest, considering he had nothing to discuss except how it never occurred to him that he could like wizards until they snogged. His ‘story’ concluded with his admittance that he thinks he likes witches and wizards, which he hadn't known until recently was a possibility for anyone, not just him personally. Sirius revealed he didn’t know that either, but said he’d support James no matter who he dated… so long as they weren’t an arsehole, or a slimy Slytherin (‘I’m sure there’s someone decent in the Snakepit, Siri’... ‘Best of luck to you trying to fish one out, mate’).
Sequestered behind the Chaser’s bed curtains, Sirius explained that homosexuality was a concept he was introduced to as a young child through ‘the stuffy Pureblood grapevine’. From salacious gossip, he learned that same-sex romantic pairings did exist, but anything that wasn’t Pureblood Husband and Pureblood Wife was ‘shameful’, to put it lightly.
A lump formed in James’s throat at the sight of his best mate holding back tears as he bravely confessed that he’d known ‘forever’ that he fancied blokes and only blokes, his thoughts teetering back and forth between, ‘This is who I am, and that’s okay’ and ‘Why can’t I ever be normal?’ Before Hogwarts, it was easy to convince himself he wasn’t gay, even though deep down, he knew the truth. But after starting school, where the corridors were filled with snogging couples, where students not much older than them obsessively talked about their crushes, where he overheard the gossip mongers dissecting every little thing about whoever was on their radar, Sirius’s internal panic grew - he knew he was different, and he wondered how long it would take until everyone else figured it out, too.
Outwardly critical of his family’s notoriously bigoted beliefs, James never realized until then how utterly exhausting that must be for Sirius to constantly maintain. Sure, the Black heir seemed to revel in his defiance, but internally? A war raged fiercely. On one end was the freedom to live life the way he wanted to, the way that meant he stayed true to who he was as a person, but also meant a lifetime of being looked down upon, maybe even disowned, by the family he hailed from. The other end meant succumbing to the pressure, living an endless lie day after day to maintain his ‘perfect Pureblood life’, with the reward being acceptance and maybe even something close to love from those who shared the same blood as him.
Sometimes, Sirius said, he wanted to shout it from the rooftops, loudly proclaim that he liked wizards and only wizards, and ‘anyone who has a problem with that can bugger off’. But he always stopped himself, because in his mind, the consequences outweighed that initial gratifying feeling of metaphorically (or perhaps literally) sticking the middle finger to both his family and their peers. So, he pretended. He pretended to be straight, hiding behind the womanizing reputation he didn’t intend to create, but the one he now desperately clung to, one he sometimes tried to convince himself was real, going so far as to snog a few girls when he was in France over the Christmas hols and their last summer break.
Nervously, James asked what consequences he anticipated if the truth got out, his own personal theories ranging anywhere from ‘punishment’ (like his parents could try to curse the gay out of him, or something insane like that) to outright killing him.
“I’m the heir,” Sirius said slowly, nose scrunched up, like he didn’t understand the question.
It’s a phrase he’d uttered many times before, to the point where it’s impossible to tell if being the eventual head of the Black family was a burden or a boon… or both?
“Okay, but what’s to stop them from… eliminating you from the picture and instating Regulus as the heir?” James prodded, overwrought with fear that his best mate could be in more danger than he ever knew.
Sirius shrugged, looking unconcerned. “Nothing, except the knowledge that my brother has the personality of a wet kneazle and is about as social as a Mooncalf… no, don’t make that face, it’s true! Our house-elf Kreacher is a wretched thing, yet he has more friends than Regulus. In fact, and don’t you dare ever repeat this, but one of my brother’s closest friends is Kreacher.”
(At the time, the words had no major effect on James, but now? All he can think is - fuck, that’s so cute… which was a huge problem in and of itself, but that’s a saga that begins later.)
Fingers twisted into the sleeve of his friend’s robe, James hoarsely whispered, “Mate, if there’s a chance your parents might kill you if they learned you wanted to marry a wizard, then you have -”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, how dark do you think my family is?!” Sirius cried, tearing his robe out of James’s grip, looking legitimately offended. “We don’t kill our own, dear Merlin, James, what the fuck?”
(‘Murder is only illegal if you get caught,’ Sirius once sing-songed in response to a headline in the Daily Prophet when they were first-years, causing Remus to chuckle until he realized the Black heir was deadly serious… which then led to a very awkward discussion that lasted well into the early afternoon).
Fun fact - killing someone who offended you (or offended a family member) was perfectly acceptable within the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, so long as the perpetrator wasn’t a relative. With the way most Pureblood families were genetically intertwined, it’s unclear where precisely the line landed in terms of who’s deemed a family member and who’s not, but for all intents and purposes, if your surname is or ever was ‘Black’, you’re covered. Since offing a relative was a huge no-no, it’s why the concept of disownment existed… after seeing James’s expression, Sirius clarified that being disowned wouldn’t put him on his family’s hit-list, either. To them, being disowned meant he was dead to them, seeing as how he never existed to begin with.
What a relief to know even families who are elbow-deep in Dark Magic have some sort of moral code…
Several apologies later, James assured his best mate that if he decided to come out, whenever that time might be, the Potters would fully support him. If things went poorly with Sirius’s folks, he’d always be welcome at James’s house, temporarily or permanently, no questions asked.
“I know my family isn’t as rich as yours, but we’ve got plenty of gold to last us both a lifetime,” James lightly joked when Sirius continued to look torn over the offer. “Pretty sure even your impulsive spending habits and posh taste couldn’t break our bank, mate.”
Unable to meet his eyes, Sirius was quick to reiterate that he hated his brother and wanted nothing to do with him, but he couldn’t just leave his family, thrusting the weight of being the heir onto his younger sibling. As an only child, blessed to have a loving, normal family, James didn’t understand the dilemma… if Sirius despised his family so much, if they wouldn’t accept his sexuality, if they tried to force him into an arranged marriage with a witch, then why wouldn’t he leave if he had somewhere else to go? Selfish as it was, James did feel somewhat hurt by the hesitancy.
“You don’t know what it’s like to be the oldest, to be the oldest brother. I hate him, I swear it, but I can’t… I can’t leave Regulus alone in that house, they would eat him alive!”
“Fine, then Regulus can come, too,” James blurted without thinking.
“He’d never leave our parents.”
The Chaser rolled his eyes. “Well, then that’s not your problem anymore -”
“It is my problem, and it always will be!” Sirius argued, shaking his head. “James… from the time he was born, two months early, until he was six and a half, Regulus was constantly sick. Not with anything in particular, but it was as if his immune system was incapable of handling even the most common of illnesses. Nearly everyone, our longtime Family Healer included, believed he wouldn’t live long enough to receive his Hogwarts letter. But Regulus is a little shit whose sole purpose in life centers around making intelligent people look like morons, so he persevered.”
Sirius unconsciously trailed his thumb along the distinctive marking on the inside of his left hand, a long, thin line, centered perfectly on his palm. Light pink in color, the raised scar was the only ‘flaw’ on his porcelain skin. James had asked, several times, what happened, but he only received answers riddled with sarcasm, the first response something like, ‘Blood magic, what else?’. Every answer after became more and more ridiculous.
“Grandmother dubbed him a ‘late bloomer’ since he learned to walk at an older age than most children, in part, because I carried him around all the time, too afraid something would happen if I put him down.” He smiled wistfully. “He was so tiny back then, ya know? And he looked at me like I was… like I was everything to him.” James’s heart squeezed at the pain in his friend's voice, but when Sirius cleared his throat, it was gone. “Even after he stopped getting sick all the time, Regulus would rarely sleep through the night if I didn’t read him a story before tucking him in, he’d only eat if I sat at the table with him, and he talked in the quietest of tones for so long, the Healers legitimately thought all the illnesses had damaged his vocal cords… turns out, the brat can yell when he’s in the mood, but overall, he’s just soft spoken.” Well, that explained Sirius’s angst over every single aspect of his brother’s life. Good Godric, he basically acted as a surrogate parent to his sibling, in spite of the small age gap! “I’m sorry, you didn’t need to know most of that, but the point I’m trying to make is that Regulus is my responsibility, even if he is a twat. He’d crumble under the weight of my position. So, I appreciate your generosity James, I really do, but I can’t do that to him, I’m sorry. ”
Understanding the issue wasn’t something that needed to be resolved right at that moment, James leaped at the chance for a topic change, oh-so-casually asking Sirius who he fancied… to which his friend turned beet red and swore he didn’t like anybody. Which, uh huh, total bollocks, but sure. James accepted the response and promised to keep his friend’s secret from everyone, even Remus and Peter, until he was ready to come out on his own… all while failing to mention how their bestest best werewolf pal factored into his sexual-awakening.
From that day forward, James strove to be ‘present in the moment’, something his Mum swore would prevent him from being blindsided by any other life-altering ‘revelations’.
She might have put too much faith in him though…
Enlightenment? Not all it’s cracked up to be.
First and foremost, Hogwarts has some good looking blokes.
Athletes caught his eye the most. There was Michael McKinnon, the other Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, who had insanely buff biceps, something he and Sirius shamelessly gushed over behind the privacy of their bed curtains. There were the Prewett twins, and their nearly-identical assets (‘It’s literally unfathomable how they can both be so pert, don’t you think, Jamie? I know their identical twins, but still’). Oh, and how James failed to notice earlier, he’ll never understand, but their Captain, Pierre Legrand, was legitimately one of the prettiest, most stunning human beings to ever exist. Plus he was obsessed with Quidditch, a genius strategist, and a dog person? James would have proposed on the spot if they were closer in age… ah, and that pesky bit about him disliking Sirius was an automatic deal breaker. The antipathy was mutual, though - Pierre lived and breathed for every aspect of Quidditch, and while Sirius loved competing, he despised the nearly year-round mandatory practices, a stance he wasn’t shy about vocalizing. The Gryffindor Keeper believed such a mentality was blasphemous, but no other Beater worked as well with McKinnon as Sirius did, so Pierre was forced to tolerate him. Remus believed their animosity stemmed from internal competitiveness because they’re both ‘very pretty blokes’, but James was pretty sure… hehe… that it’s all Quidditch related.
However, ogling his own teammates… that was kinda yucky, wasn’t it? James could appreciate and acknowledge their objective attractiveness without problem, but two poignant moments had him limiting the people he fantasized about to those he didn’t interact with on a weekly basis:
One - That time in the middle of practice when the sun glinted off of Pierre’s hair just right, and James unexpectedly found himself caught up in a daydream about snogging the gorgeous Gryffindor Keeper… and then received a Quaffle directly to the face as payment for his inattentiveness… and then instead of concern from his best mate, he saw Sirius’s indignant, ‘Are you fucking kidding me, you’re lusting after him?!’ expression… and then suffering through the Prewett twins reenacting his mortifying mishap at every available opportunity.
Two - Following the rest of his soaked teammates to the locker room after the skies suddenly opened up in the middle of their practice... which subsequently gave him the chance to appreciate the way Michael’s robes clung to his jacked, muscular torso... except, the storm wasn’t bad enough to deter Pierre’s legion of fangirls (and boys) that seemed to go wherever he went… before the door to the locker room closed, James watched the Keeper’s expression go from annoyed to horrified when a particularly brash girl in the stands remarked that she wished she had tried out for the team so she could see him in ‘all his glory’.
The Gryffindor team obviously had the best looking players, but there were some lookers on the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw roster (of all genders!). When it came to Slytherin, though? There was only one attractive individual on both the starting lineup and reserve squad (which again, was an objective fact, not at all influenced by his bias against those in the Snakepit).
Queue where things started to go wrong for him…
That person? Regulus Black, younger brother of James’s best mate. The fact that he couldn’t stand Regulus as a person did not impact the younger’s ‘pretty’ factor. But this was not a problem, he told himself time and time again… Sirius was a good-looking bloke, very few people would ever dispute that. Thus, it was logical that his brother, who possessed similar features, would be attractive as well.
No big deal, his undying loyalty to his best friend made his brain behave funnily sometimes, that’s all.
However…
James was not proud of it, but he could lie to his teachers, his parents, and even his mates, ‘Of course you’re better looking than Pierre, Sirius, don’t be daft’, but he could not lie to himself. His interest in Regulus was a big deal, because; one, it did not go away, and two, it only grew larger and more troublesome to hide.
Now that James was enlightened, he started noticing things about Regulus, things that did not match the 'Sirius’s-evil-twat-brother' persona in his head. There was nothing particularly Earth-shattering or dramatic, merely small, inconsequential things that threw James for a loop. Like Regulus holding the library door open for a Muggleborn student carrying a towering stack of books, his nose scrunching up adorably when he accidentally drank out of Rosier’s goblet instead of his own, him bending down to pick up a quill someone dropped and handing it back to them without a sneer or insult on his lips, the way he softy apologized when he bumped into Marlene one morning while entering the Great Hall, how he blushed scarlet when she giggled and said ‘no harm done, cutie’.
Godric, or that time when James was hidden under his Invisibility Cloak after curfew, making his way through his designated portion of the castle, charming objects at random to shout rude remarks at passersby. It was a complicated endeavor that required his full concentration, but his focus was shattered when he approached the stairs leading up to the Astronomy Tower. First, he had to jump out of the way to avoid stepping on the caretaker’s cat, Mrs. Norris, and then had to flatten himself against the wall to prevent Regulus fucking Black from unknowingly bumping into him in his haste to follow the cantankerous feline. James trailed behind the unlikely duo out of curiosity, wondering why a Slytherin, a house that bragged about how cunning they were, would be foolish enough to run after the cat who was obviously leading him to Filch.
Oh, how wrong he was.
Tiptoeing into the abandoned classroom Regulus had darted into, James watched him slowly approach another cat, this one all puffed up and hissing; the agitation wasn’t personal, as the tiny creature was visibly limping, blood coating its front paws. Dropping to the floor in a rather undignified way, the Slytherin spoke in soft, soothing tones, assuring the feline he only wanted to help, that she was alright, he wouldn’t hurt her, and once he healed her, she could go on her merry way, so long as she promised to be more careful climbing on the statues of armor in the future. With Mrs. Norris occasionally pitching in with some rather exasperated sounding meows, the injured cat cautiously crept towards the patiently waiting boy. Once it became clear she would allow his touch, Regulus swiftly provided first aid, and by the time he finished, the tiny creature was purring up a storm and demanding pets, two things the Slytherin provided with a surprised, delighted smile that did funny things to James’s heart.
For months, James was able to appreciate the youngest Black’s aesthetically pleasing features, without drowning himself in guilt over how he was betraying his best mate with such treacherous thoughts. How you might ask? By reminding himself that it didn’t matter how cute Regulus was, because he was still a Pureblood elitist, prejudiced against those with ‘mixed’ blood, and that wasn’t appealing in the slightest.
Yet the more James observed, the more he came to believe Regulus wasn’t quite like that, not like his cousin Bellatrix, who went out of her way to insult Muggleborn students, or that tosser Yaxley, who wanted to start a ‘club’ for Purebloods only. And even if the younger Slytherin did currently hold the same beliefs as the majority of his family… well… perhaps in a somewhat similar manner to his brother, Regulus merely needed to surround himself with more tolerant people. Then, by observing those around him who were setting positive examples, he’d adopt a better viewpoint.
The following January, when James was a fourth-year and Regulus a third-year, everything shifted, again. Up until that defining moment, the younger Slytherin wasn’t someone James thought about regularly… like, never more than once a day, or for any length of time, just fleeting thoughts here and there. Whenever he did happen to see Regulus, it would be a bright spot in his day, that’s all. He didn’t seek the Seeker out or anything, not like he did when he had a crush on Lily (though that was easier considering they were in the same house, the same year, and thus had many of the same classes).
It was all Pierre’s fault too, James will forever stand by that.
Starting his last semester at Hogwarts, the seventh-year was months away from handing off his role as Gryffindor Quidditch Captain to one of the Prewett twins (or both, because how could anyone pick between the two?), McKinnon, or James himself. But before he made his recommendation to McGonagall, the Keeper decided it would be prudent for his players to observe how other teams worked together outside of matches, with the goal being that they would become more well-rounded players if they were exposed to different styles of training. Their assignment? To pair off and choose a House team to observe as often as possible over a month-long period (Pierre originally wanted everyone to attend all three House practices, but the players collectively put their foot down, opting to select one house per group and ‘present’ their findings to the team at the end).
Hence, how James and Sirius found themselves huddled under his Invisibility Cloak three evenings a week after dinner to observe the Slytherin team practice, sessions that regularly ran late into the night, unhindered by inclement weather conditions (which always guaranteed Sirius would start muttering in angry French… James would bet his hat that ‘beauty sleep’ was mentioned multiple times). The Black heir refused to participate in the assignment, but begrudgingly agreed to keep James company in the stands, choosing to quietly occupy himself by reading a magazine or jotting down prank ideas, paying absolutely zero attention to the players in the air. James, however, took the task seriously, writing detailed notes that would sometimes be revised later on in order to ensure the parchment wasn’t predominantly focused on the Slytherin Seeker.
Because dear Merlin, Regulus was phenomenal on a broom. Soaring through the air like he was born to fly, the Slytherin darted between players without an ounce of fear, chasing the Snitch with a relentless focus few others could maintain. Regulus flew with such a captivating grace, it was breathtaking to behold, as was the peaceful look he sported whenever he took to the sky, content almost, vastly different from when his feet were on the ground.
Something else James picked up on almost instantly?... the tension between the players on the Slytherin team. One of the Beaters, Travers, and the Keeper, Nott, seemed to hold a grudge against the youngest Black. Hard to say exactly why they disliked Regulus, who never responded to the jeers and ridicule they hissed whenever they found the chance (something James only knew about because of a subtle charm he casted to allow himself to hear whatever Regulus did). From what James gathered, at least some of it was due to the Gryffindor vs Slytherin match the previous semester; the lions had been up 150 points when Regulus was rapidly closing in on the Snitch, broom lengths ahead of the Gryffindor Seeker. The three Gryffindor Chasers had been too much for the Slytherin defense to handle from the start of the match, but they had a chance to tie the game if Regulus got the Snitch before another goal was scored… and he would have caught it in time, if it weren’t for a fantastically hit Bludger from his brother at the last possible moment, like Sirius knew where his sibling was on the pitch without having to look. Regulus dodged before it collided with him, but it delayed him just long enough for James to score another goal; so, when his fingers finally did curl around the Snitch, and he hoisted it triumphantly over his head, thinking he tied the game… Slytherin had actually lost.
It was a painful defeat, but in no way was it Regulus’s fault. If he hadn’t caught the Snitch then, thus bringing the game to a close, there’s no telling how much greater the margin of defeat would have been. And a larger point deficit would have made it all the more difficult for Slytherin to remain in the running for the Quidditch Cup at the end of the year, a trophy they'd go one to win, believe it or not. James wasn’t being cocky either; it was evident in the first minutes of the match that Slytherin was massively unprepared to handle Pierre’s newly devised attack formations. It’s also funny how Nott, who let 16 goals soar past him in a record eleven minutes, and Travers, who couldn’t hit a single Gryffindor Chaser with a Bludger if they were directly in front of him, were up in arms over Regulus putting a swift, respectable end to their slaughter.
Then again, that's Slytherin loyalty for ya.
At first, James assumed the constant barrage of Bludgers directed at Regulus, all hit by Travers, was some sort of training exercise. Dangerous, sure, but effective, considering no Beater had yet to strike a Bludger that impacted Regulus when he was in pursuit of the Snitch… besides the kid’s own brother, of course. But as the practices trickled on, it became more and more apparent that this wasn’t a risky drill aimed at improving his skills - it was personal. To the Seeker’s credit, he dodged like a pro… literally, how was Regulus so talented at such a young age, and why was no one talking about it?!
However, the increasingly wary looks his other teammates exchanged had James sitting rigidly in the stands by the third week, overwrought with the sense that something bad was about to happen.
That gut instinct? Spot on, unfortunately.
The air that night was particularly chilly, not quite cold enough for snow, but frigid enough that James welcomed the body heat from Sirius snuggled up to him. His friend was dead asleep, head resting on the Chaser’s shoulder, exhausted from their all-nighter the previous evening (due to a brilliant prank they got a late start on because they first had to serve detention for a different prank). But James didn’t mind being used as a pillow, since with Sirius asleep, he was free to keep his attention solely on the Slytherin Seeker. The feat was made easier thanks to the new charm he learned, the spell similar to the one placed on Omnioculars, providing him a crisp view of the action above their heads.
And yet, in spite of his hyperfixation and clearer sight, it wasn’t James who played the hero when everything went wrong.
Perhaps it was a coincidence… perhaps it was not… but whilst in pursuit of the Snitch, Regulus’s hair tie loosened enough to free a portion of his long hair from its clutches, the wind quick to whip it fiercely in every direction, obscuring his vision. Taking advantage of the situation, Travers angled his broom directly into the Seeker’s path, triggering a collision only one player was braced for. Although Regulus had been in the process of decreasing his speed to handle his hair dilemma, the unexpected crash knocked him clean off his custom-made Blackstar. His teammates (sans Travers and Nott) attempted to help from the opposite end of the pitch, but the cold air, more brutal at the heights they were flying at, combined with the bulky gear, made it impossible to pull their wands out fast enough.
But here’s where things got weird… weird in a good way, but still very strange. Seconds before Regulus’s hair tie failed its only job, Sirius jerked awake with a gasp, nearly giving James a heart attack in the process. Eyes frantically rising to the sky, he ignored all of James’s questions about what was wrong, his gaze immediately landing on his brother at the exact moment Travers collided with him. And to clarify, James wasn’t upset he didn’t get to save the day, merely glad someone did, but also… he sits next to Sirius in Divination. His friend’s only talent in the imprecise branch of magic was his penchant for drama, artfully crafting the most bizarre, ridiculous, yet still within the realm of plausibility, predictions of the future. It was an ‘aptitude’ their Professor lauded constantly, once claiming Sirius inherited the ‘rarest gift of his ancient bloodline’, a remark she never uttered again after the Black heir loudly proclaimed Seeing did NOT run in his family, and if he ever heard anyone spreading such falsehoods, he would inform his parents at once… Sirius never used his family’s reputation as a threat, so his words were taken very seriously… heh.
Regardless, it was a good thing he woke up when he did; everyone was scrambling for their wands, but even at fifteen, Sirius didn’t require one for a good number of spells, having a proficiency for wandless magic that awed their professors, including the hard-to-impress Minerva McGonagall. He successfully turned the pitch’s grass into a thick, foam-padding moments before Regulus’s body slammed into it, saving his brother’s life with his quick-thinking spellwork. After bouncing several times, Regulus’s momentum finally ceased, but the younger teen didn’t move at all.
Thinking the worst, both Gryffindors were on their feet, prepared to storm the field, when James grabbed his friend’s shoulder and gestured towards the pitch. Regulus’s eyes had flown open, and thanks to the spell on his glasses, James got an up-close view of the most sinister, menacing, utterly terrifying expression he’d ever witnessed on anyone’s face, let alone someone as cute as Regulus (that incident with Remus last week? Not anywhere close to the same league as this).
Leaping to his feet in an impressive acrobatic move, the Seeker stalked towards the crate that held the Quaffle, the Bludgers, and the Snitch when not in use, along with spare loose equipment. Grabbing one of the school-owned Beater’s Bats, Regulus whistled for his broom, hopping back on the moment it got close enough (James almost swooned, having only seen that done successfully in professional matches). Taking to the sky before his concerned teammates could dismount their own brooms, Regulus went on the type of warpath that had James, for the first time ever, wishing the youngest Black had been sorted into Gryffindor.
See, the expectation was a Sirius-esque temper tantrum, filled with shouted curses, both the verbally offensive and the physically harmful kind, that would escalate until he either wore himself out, or someone intervened to drag him away.
That’s not precisely how it went down.
What actually happened was this - Regulus put every single Beater at Hogwarts to shame, including his own brother. Pushing his broom to its limits, Regulus zipped around the field in a blur of green and silver, relentlessly hitting Bludger after Bludger at Travers and Nott, only using his wand to duplicate each ball, giving him four to work with, instead of the customary two. The attack was relatively short, maybe ten minutes at most, but incredibly savage. Nott had the wind knocked out of him after receiving a Bludger straight to the stomach; he would have then gotten one to the back of the head if Rosier (the older sister of Regulus’s best friend), hadn’t intervened by shattering it with a well-aimed spell. Travers, though, was too stupid to give up after he first got hit, foolishly engaging in a battle of Bludger strikes with his incensed victim, earning himself multiple broken bones in the process, while never once hitting his target.
The most chilling part of all? Regulus didn’t say a single word the entire time… his opponents shouted insults at him, his teammates begged him to return to the ground, but the Slytherin continued his berserk rampage until Travers finally fled the field on his broom. Regulus tried to follow, but the trio of Chasers blocked his path, and with some whispered words only James could hear… threats about getting the Black sisters involved if he didn't listen, Sirius theorized (which was correct)… they convinced him to land.
But it didn’t end there, thanks to the oldest player on the team, a seventh-year James could never remember the name of.
Clapping their youngest player on the shoulder with a wide grin, he was the only one unruffled by the chaos their practice descended into. “Welcome to the team, Black! It’s heartening to see you do belong here, after all.”
Ouch... not only had Regulus been on the team for a year-and-a-half, but insinuating he only earned a place on the roster because of his surname, rather than his enviable talent, was callous, ignorant, and just plain wrong. Even Sirius cringed at the gaffe, but Lady Rosier responded best, with an honest-to-Merlin facepalm that James felt in his soul. For a split-second, Regulus’s emotionless expression cracked, and he gave his teammate such a repulsed look, it had Sirius painfully gripping onto James’s arm with a familiar hiss, the exact sound the Marauders associated with anything that unexpectedly reminded the Black heir of his deranged mother.
Oh, but it did not end there either.
Two words, two basic words, two basic words spoken in a steely, unhumorous tone, left the Slytherin team in shambles… along with James and Sirius, in all honesty.
“I quit.”
Chapter 12: The Black Lion Shows Off His Cunningness Part I
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Well… that’s good for us, right?” James remarked later that night while they were brushing their teeth. It was the first time they’d spoken since they left the field, trailing a safe distance behind the somber ex-Seeker as they made their way back to the castle. Regulus had walked alone, head held high and back ramrod straight, his teammates remaining on the pitch in a heated screaming match about who should bear the blame for their most talented player vacating his position. “As much as it pains me to say it, your brother was obviously the only decent player on the team.”
Crikey, the look he received in response was so eerily similar to the one Regulus wore when his teammate idiotically jammed his foot into his mouth, that James almost choked on his own spit.
“He’s more than decent, James, he’s sensational, already ten times better than half the schmucks playing in the professional leagues right now!” Mouth snapping shut, Sirius glared at his own reflection in the mirror, and the Chaser couldn’t help but wonder if he realized that was the only nice thing he’d said about his brother in two years. “Thanks to moi, of course. I allowed him to train with me.”
Uh huh.
“A shame for such talent to go to waste,” James responded with an air of indifference… faked, of course, but his intrigue regarding the youngest Black wasn’t something his friend needed to know about. Ever.
Sirius made a noncommittal noise, eyes still deadlocked on his reflection, like he was having a staring contest with himself. Leaving his friend to whatever madness was percolating in that strange head of his, James wished him goodnight and exited the loo.
But just before the door shut, he heard Sirius whisper, “It is a shame, isn’t it?”
Sleep eluded him that night. Every time James closed his eyes, all he could see was Regulus’s prone body plummeting to the ground, his face clouded with fear, either real or imagined, he couldn't tell. Everything happened so fast on the pitch, it felt like he’d need days to process all of it.
How could Regulus just quit, though?! The difference in how the brother’s played Quidditch was glaringly obvious, something three weeks of studying the younger Black allowed him to determine. Sirius played because he loved winning and relished being the center of attention (and because he didn’t want to listen to James’s endless whining if he ever quit); Regulus played because he truly loved the sport. And sure, winning was a wondrous feeling no matter what, especially in a hotly contested match. But flying high above the ground in the thick of the fast-paced action, knowing six other players in the air were counting on you to perform your best, knowing your housemates were counting on you to perform your best, pushing your body to its limits, analyzing the opposing team, figuring out when to switch tactics mid-game, hyping your teammates up with an inspiring speech or motivating them with an encouraging comment whenever their mood dipped, knowing you personally played an impact in your team’s victory… well, that was really fucking hard to beat.
As frustrating as it was to toss and turn for hours, it proved to be a blessing in disguise, as was his decision to open his bed curtains in the middle of the night, naively hoping the various sounds of the dorm would help quiet his thoughts. It didn’t work out quite like that, but it did ensure James was the first one awake that morning, though he feigned sleep when he heard the person next to him moving around. Sirius always woke up freakishly early, but he’d either remain in bed or meander over to the lounge area in their room until someone else woke up (or he deemed it an acceptable time to rouse the others, which was never fun for anyone but Sirius).
Needless to say, James didn’t need Remus poking his head out from his bed curtains with his patented, 'Do something about that, would you?' expression to know he definitely should not let Sirius break from his usual routine and wander the castle alone. Rushing to dress himself in something halfway decent, James threw his Invisibility Cloak over his head and sprinted down the stairs into the Common Room, deciding it was too damn early to worry about his feet potentially showing. Besides, no sane person would be up at such a disgusting hour on a Saturday.
Sirius strode through the empty corridors with purpose, further evidence that this wasn’t a merry morning stroll. All of James’s concentration was required to maintain a somewhat close distance while staying hidden, so he was baffled by their final destination - the corridor leading out to the Transfiguration courtyard - nowhere near the dungeons like he had anticipated. Here, Sirius slowed his pace, walking the inside perimeter of the courtyard twice; James didn’t need to see his friend’s expression to know he was growing annoyed… with what, he had no idea, but perhaps that frustration was what led Sirius to stop at random, close his eyes, and place his left palm against the castle wall.
Now, James was well-versed in his mate’s theories regarding Hogwarts being sentient… he was also exceptionally familiar with how much Sirius enjoyed talking out of his arse, saying the most absurd things with total sincerity in the hopes of getting a rise out of someone (usually Remus, who was a nerd at heart, couldn’t stand people spouting false information, and loved to bicker with Sirius over anything and everything). Personally, the notion that the castle they lived in had some degree of sentience literally made James want to puke (what if she decided to swallow them up?!), so for his own peace of mind, he tuned Sirius out when he was on one of his spiels, like how, ‘Her Greatness will always help those in need, you need only to ask’.
To be fair, it was indeed peculiar to return to school last year to find their dorm in the shape of a rectangle instead of a circle. But did Hogwarts, a pile of bricks and mortar infused with the Founders’ magic, grant that specific change because Sirius ‘wished’ for it? Or did the house elves decide it would be a brilliant prank, a delayed revenge for him pitching a fit in first year about wanting to clean their room by himself, with no assistance from the proud creatures? They denied having a hand in it, of course, but come on, where was the logic?! James also wasn’t fazed by Remus suddenly changing his mind, saying it’s possible that Hogwarts might be ‘somewhat’ sentient after centuries of magic being cast within its walls - he was NOT buying it.
At least, James wasn’t buying it, until…
Scarred palm on the wall, Sirius’s mouth moved in a wordless chant… no, that wasn’t right. James wasn’t proficient at lip reading, but he swore one of the phrases was, ‘I promise’. Eyes opening once again, Sirius murmured a sincere, “Thank you, Your Majesty,” and dipped his head in a brief bow. Bizarre, but James had assuredly seen weirder things from his peculiar friend (Sirius was an oddball if there ever was one, which James adored more than he could ever put into words).
Sirius then wasted no time in retracing his steps, coming to a stop in front of the archway leading out into the courtyard. Tilting his head back, a self-impressed smirk on his face, he placed two fingers in his mouth and let out a sharp, ear-splitting whistle.
James thought they were alone, both the cloister and the outdoor courtyard devoid of living beings and ghosts alike, but a muffled commotion proved this to be untrue; to his utter astonishment, it was Regulus Black himself who glared down at them, or Sirius rather, from his perch on a support beam above the archway. Obscured by shadows, his hideout provided him both privacy and a perfect view for people watching if the hour wasn’t so ungodly. Scoping it out from different angles, James concluded it would have been impossible to see Regulus if he hadn't peeked over the edge, even if they'd known exactly where he was… and how Sirius suddenly knew where to find his brother, James would have to ponder at a later time.
“What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!” Regulus hissed, face drawn in a scowl. “I know you hate me, but isn’t fratricide a little extreme?”
Sirius shrugged, unaffected by the venom coating his brother’s words. “Simply wanted to be the first to congratulate you, that’s all. Hard to believe you might finally be more of a disappointment than me, but here we are! What a time to be alive, aye?”
“Pardon?”
The older teen scoffed. “Don’t play naïve, Regulus, you’re no good at it. Gossip travels fast around here, as you should know by now. I’m pleased that you finally accepted you’ll never be as good at Quidditch as me. It’s important to know your strengths… or in your case, weaknesses.”
The words were unusually harsh, strange as it sounded, given the brother’s general hostility as of late; whenever Sirius picked a fight with his younger brother, something that occurred once or twice a month following their fallout, he mostly accused Regulus of ‘stealing’ his stuff (in private, Remus would always demand Sirius explain how Regulus could possibly enter their warded room to take whatever item was missing, but the Black heir always answered with something like, ‘He’s sneaky like that, Rem, you haven’t the faintest idea what he’s capable of’).
Petty? Definitely.
Cruel? Not so much.
(Although, there was that time when Sirius, unable to get a rise out of the younger boy, screamed, “I AM EVERYTHING YOU ARE TOO AFRAID TO BE, REGULUS!” The words caused a stunned silence to fall over the onlookers, the Marauders included. But Regulus had snorted softly, his gaze trailing to where Pierre, Michael, Fabian, and Gideon were standing, ready to intervene if need be - with a crucial match coming up, they couldn’t afford to have Sirius benched. “Why would I want to be second-best at everything, brother?” And with that weighty question, the Slytherin sauntered away, damning James to more than a month of constantly reassuring his best mate that he’s first at a number of things. The one thing he didn't mention? Being the best big brother).
If Sirius expected to get a rise out of the Slytherin, again, he was unsuccessful. Face clearing of all emotion, Regulus gazed impassively down at his brother. “If that’s all, I would prefer to get back to my book now. Good day.”
“So, that’s what it means to be a Black, huh?” Sirius snarled, refusing to back down. “You simply give up because a few tossers decide to make it known that they don’t think you deserve your position, a position you earned fair and square?” One side of his lip curled up. “And you wonder why I don’t want to be associated with the likes of them.”
If the words bothered Regulus, he didn’t show it. “Fair enough, good day.”
The one whose annoyance did show?
Sirius.
A short distance away, James braced himself to confront his friend if he decided to get violent; normally, he’d back Sirius in any fight with a Slytherin, without question, but this one… this one didn’t feel right.
Per usual, Sirius’s next actions were the opposite of what he expected. “Budge over you twat, I’m coming up.”
Regulus raised a condescending eyebrow. “If I recall correctly, you are abysmal at climbing.”
An accurate statement, actually, and one that’s provided James endless entertainment. Sirius excelled at well, pretty much everything, but watching him fail at such a simple endeavor was fucking hilarious. Granted, it meant the Marauders had to plan their pranks with this deficiency in mind, but to now know that his younger brother could outclimb even Remus, the best in their group? Priceless.
“And for someone who claims to be an expert at reading social cues,” the Slytherin continued haughtily, “you’re pitiful at it today.”
“Read them,” Sirius hummed, taking stock of the column he was about to climb. “Ignored them.”
In a record showing, he made it two-thirds of the way up before he slipped. Prepared for this inevitable conclusion, James had his wand in hand, ready to reveal his position if it meant keeping his best mate from getting seriously hurt… and okay, Sirius wasn’t that high up, but the ground beneath their feet was stone, and what if he hit his head?!
But yet again, he didn’t get to play the hero, as Regulus too had predicted the catastrophe in the making, grabbing his brother’s arm the second he lost his grip. With a herculean effort… given how Sirius started squawking about breaking a nail, provided zero help to save his own skin, and Regulus had to stretch out on his stomach to reach his sibling… the Gryffindor joined his brother on the support beam.
“I told you so!” Regulus cried, cheeks flushed from exertion. He repeatedly smacked his brother’s shoulder, until Sirius growled out a warning that he’d better stop if he intended to live through the morning. “But you NEVER listen to anything that doesn’t come from your precious little friends, now, do you?!”
“Eh, they’d be the first to tell you I usually don’t listen to them either.” Merlin, wasn’t that the truth?! Finished inspecting his nails, Sirius raised his head, meeting his brother’s eyes. “But you better listen to me, Regulus Arcturus. You are NOT quitting the bloody Quidditch team, end of story.”
Regulus crossed his arms over his chest, looking so put-out, James wanted to coo at the overwhelming cuteness. “I think we can agree that you’ve made it clear how my life is absolutely none of your concern, so you don’t get to butt into my business now.” The older teen angrily opened his mouth, but the Slytherin plowed on. “Besides, Mother will be very pleased to learn of my resignation. She only let me join because you decided team sports were suddenly your thing once you became a Gryffindor, then had the gall to tryout without either of our parents’ permission. It wouldn’t be fair if you were able to play, but I wasn’t.”
Huh… that was… interesting. James had always assumed Sirius tried out for the team to humor him, and hadn’t cared either way if he earned a place on the roster. It could totally be another ‘F-U’ to his family, but from James’s current vantage point, he saw how Sirius briefly glanced away from his brother’s intense scrutiny, almost nervously.
But the Gryffindor Black covered his discomfort quickly. “Resignation? Is that what you’re calling it? You’re quitting. Giving up. Escaping. Deserting your post, abandoning your team. Fleeing like a coward, all because some people don’t like you, oh bloody boohoo. Grow up, Regulus, before you carve out a life for yourself where everyone tramples all over you because they know you’ll collapse under the pressure.”
"I don't know what lies you've heard -"
Sirius held a hand up. "Save your breath, I know the truth of why you quit."
"Were you spying on our practice -"
"REGULUS."
The Slytherin's cheeks puffed out. “You do not know what it’s like -”
“Don’t I, though?”
“You don’t, brother, everyone likes you!” Regulus spat. “Or are tolerant of you… even people in Slytherin think some of your pranks are funny.”
Sirius squinted at the boy across from him. “Truthfully, don’t believe you, your lot has no sense of humor. But even if people do think I’m funny, brilliant, or the most handsome bloke in the school, all things that are true, that doesn’t mean they like me. People respect me, there’s a difference -”
“Oh please, they’re close enough in meaning!”
“No, Regulus, they are not! I earned that respect, so people generally leave me alone, but you think I don’t know what they say about me behind my back? What they whisper to their friends whenever I walk by, especially after a prank that affected them, or because my mates and I lost our house some stupid points? And when someone gathers the courage to make a snarky remark to my face, or decides they’re tough enough to draw their wand on me, do you know what I do?” He yanked his sibling closer by the front of his robes, getting right in his face. “I fucking stand up for myself!”
“Don’t touch me!” The Slytherin slapped his brother’s hands away. “It’s not that easy, okay?”
“When, pray tell, did I say it was easy? Sometimes, Reg, it’s the hardest thing in the world to do, and sometimes, it’s so bloody exhausting, that I almost give in.” Sirius chuckled humorously at his brother’s surprised expression. “But it’s worth it in the long run, and that’s why it’s imperative to have a solid group of people at your side. Given the fact that these people harassing you still appear to possess all of their limbs, and Evan hasn’t been expelled, I’m assuming neither our cousins, nor your friends know?”
“Evan would never get caught, he’s too smart for that.” Regulus smoothed a crease in his robes, unable to meet his brother’s eyes. “I won’t burden them with my problems, they each have enough to deal with. I… I can handle it myself.”
Sirius nodded. “Alright. I’m giving you a choice, then. One, you rejoin the team, and I’ll keep your secret from everyone. Or two, I will write a lengthy letter to Mother, Father, Grandmother, Bellatrix, Narcissa, Andromeda, and every person we're even the slightest bit related to, explaining the real reason you quit the team, and we can see what they have to say about it.” Ruffling his aghast brother’s hair, he jumped back to the ground, landing in a graceful crouch that had to have been aided by wandless, nonverbal magic. “Good day!... oh, and please take a nap sometime soon, little star, the bags under your eyes are absolutely dreadful.”
The rest of the weekend passed in a blur, with James seeing neither hide nor hair of the youngest Black. Sirius didn’t look concerned about his brother’s disappearance, so James didn’t bring it up… in part, because he didn’t want to confess to his spying. Following a day of classes that dragged endlessly, the two Gryffindors took their place in the stands earlier than usual. Sirius finally began to show some strain as the Slytherin players trickled out of the locker room and onto the field, no sign of his brother among them.
With a minute to spare before practice started, Regulus stormed out of the locker room, visibly agitated. The Slytherin Captain, Justin Fawley, trailed behind him at a more leisurely pace, unrushed by the expectant stares of his teammates. Without acknowledging anyone who tried to catch his eye, Regulus slotted himself into the line of players waiting to be addressed by their Captain.
Casting a charm that allowed them to hear what was being said down on the field, James and Sirius listened intently as Fawley began speaking. “Our former Seeker has expressed his desire to reclaim his position.” There was a murmur of approval from the majority of the team, though they heard Travers and Nott scoff at the news. “I have declined his request.”
“THAT’S BOLLOCKS!” Sirius shouted, his rage fortunately drowned out by the incensed uproar on the field. “Fucking uppity bastard, who does he think he is?!”
It took a Sonorous charm from Fawley to bring order to the pitch, which lasted only a handful of seconds after his next shocking announcement. “He, along with the rest of the team, myself included, will compete this Saturday for a spot on the roster in a tryout that will be open to the entirety of our great House, sans first-year students. The candidates will be judged by a seven-person panel composed of a mix of Quidditch professionals who’ve agreed to help, and former Slytherin alumni with no relation to any current students, along with a separate group of referees to avoid as much bias as possible. On the day of the tryouts, the house elves will assign every participant a number to wear for the judges to refer to you by. Your name, both first and last, will NOT matter here, only your talent.”
It was insane, bonkers, absolutely ludicrous, and a stroke of bloody brilliance, the exact sort of gamble Pierre would go ballistic over when he found out.
By Saturday, word spread of the shake-up on the Slytherin team, a bold, completely unheard of move; they were in the middle of the Quidditch season and a month away from their match against Ravenclaw, a game they needed to win by a large margin to stay in the running for the Quidditch Cup. The four Marauders left the castle early to claim the best spot in the stands, a good thing too, considering nearly the entire student body and a large portion of the faculty came out to witness the unprecedented event. Regulus, wearing the auspicious ‘1’ on his robe, flew admirably in the tryout for Seeker, unequivocally the superior choice compared to the other candidates, earning himself impressed glances from the judges, cheers from his cousins and friends, and a satisfied nod from his brother.
But to the confusion of many, the youngest Black didn’t leave the field afterwards. Instead, he joined the ranks of Beater-hopefuls, boldly standing next to Travers while they waited for the whistle to take off.
It had to be the greatest tryout in the history of Hogwarts. Midway through, Sirius and James were clutching onto each other, driven to tears from laughing so hard at the sheer torment the youngest Black inflicted. Regulus completed the drills well enough to avoid being disqualified, all while acting as a bloody menace to a handful of participants trying out for Chaser and Keeper. His presence in the air visibly unsettled Nott, resulting in one of the most dreadful performances James ever had the misfortune of witnessing, though it came to an abrupt end when Regulus finally succeeded in knocking him unconscious with a well-aimed Bludger. Enraged by Regulus’s gall to outshine him in the tryout for his own position, Travers abandoned the exercises entirely, devoting his full attention to increasingly-erratic attempts at swatting the younger teen from the sky. The attack failed in two ways; first, it highlighted Regulus’s indisputable talents while he raced through the air, barrel rolling and feinting in every direction, avoiding Travers himself and the Bludgers careening towards him; and two, everyone noticed the targeted attacks, leaving Professor Slughorn, the Head of Slytherin, no choice but to ban Travers from the sport for the rest of his time at Hogwarts.
After the tryouts concluded, the judges announced they would use the next hour to deliberate. James alternated between sneaking glances at Regulus, who stared vacantly into the distance while his friends chattered around him, and gawking at Pierre Legrand, winner of Hogwarts unofficial Most-Eligible-Bachelor superlative four years in a row, making an utter fool of himself in front of a bemused Justin Fawley. The Gryffindor Captain, who’d never shown interest in anyone prior to that moment, alternated between acting like some sort of low-rate journalist, firing question after question at the Slytherin, demanding he explain his thought process behind the decision to upend his entire team halfway through the season, what drove him to do something so extreme, what he expected the results to be, and then gushing over his genius, something Pierre swore would guarantee Fawley a spot on any professional team after graduation if he could pull it off.
Time slowed whenever you wanted it to move faster, but eventually, the judges returned to the pitch, making the dramatic choice to announce the new roster in front of the assembled crowd. An astute decision, the students came to find out, because the results were dramatic. Two out of the previous seven starters were permanently disqualified (Nott and Travers), two others were reduced to reserve players (including the seventh-year who’s quip ignited this whole thing), which meant that Lady-Rosier, Captain Fawley, and Baby Black would be returning to the lineup with four brand new teammates.
Every player called to the hastily erected stage received polite applause from non-Slytherins, the other Houses understanding they were witnessing something spectacular that day; there was no place for the usual boos and jeers here. When it was time for the last position to be announced - Seeker - and ‘Player 1’ boomed out across the stadium, the stands erupted in deafening cheers and catcalls, the excited cries emitting from all four Houses, the Marauders loudest of all. James nearly fainted when he saw how shy Regulus looked as he stepped forward to receive a new set of Quidditch robes with his name embroidered on the back, no doubt thanks to a group of hardworking house elves somewhere in the castle. It was a far cry from Sirius and James, who would revel in the attention; Regulus hardly acknowledged the crowd, except for briefly at the end when he dipped into a regal bow, an action that was quickly followed by a bashful grin.
“You should be proud of yourself, Regulus,” Sirius remarked to his brother when they reached the pitch after the ceremony.
“You flew really well,” James rushed to add, standing awkwardly behind his mate. They unintentionally lost Remus and Peter in the crowd thanks to their single-minded determination to get to the field before their peers… and their willingness to be aresholes about it. “Much better than everyone else, even those trying out for other positions.”
Regulus’s eyes narrowed at the genuine compliment, his gaze sweeping up and down James’s form. Then, without a word, he angled his body to the side, cutting his brother’s best friend out of the conversation. “Yes, so proud… I signed my own death certificate, Sirius!”
Sirius tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. “Explain that to me, little brother… why did it seem like that bloke had some personal vendetta against you?”
It was lucky that Regulus couldn’t see him, because James definitely couldn’t maintain a straight face after that ridiculous question.
“Are you… are you fucking serious?”
Sirius’s nose wrinkled. “I mean… weird way to phrase it, but I guess technically -”
Regulus smacked a hand over his brother’s mouth. “One, let me stop you there before you inflict further scars upon my psyche.” The Slytherin removed his hand, wiping it dry on Sirius’s cheek. “Two, you’re disgusting, I despise you, and three, were you, or were you not, the one who told me to stand up for myself?!”
“Doesn’t sound like me, no,” the older teen shrugged. “Besides, why would you need to stand up to Travers, anyways?”
“Hmm, let me think,” Regulus spat, too caught up in his rage to sense the group slinking up behind them. “Maybe because from the moment I sat on the Slytherin bench following my sorting, Larson Travers has made it his personal mission to harass me at every possible opportunity -”
“WHAT?!”
The Slytherin whirled around in a panic at the voices. With a smug grin, Sirius twisted his fingers into James’s robes and dragged him away, abandoning his brother to face off against their cousins and his friends alone.
After that life-changing week, James found himself sneaking glances at Regulus whenever he could, only to look away, overcome with guilt when he realized what he was doing. It was a vicious, never ending cycle; Look, there he is… no, no, do not look, I said do NOT look!... Aw, he's so cute chugging his morning coffee, all bleary-eyed and grumpy…. No, Potter, very bad, you do NOT admire your best mate’s little brother… But he’s so adorable… NO, okay yes he is really fucking adorable, but Sirius, you must think of Sirius… Sirius does not look that cute in the morning… No! Bad thoughts, bad thoughts, unloyal, be gone!
Given the constant turmoil of James’s inner monologue, it was only fitting that their resident expert of vicious cycles was the one who figured it all out.
It was the evening before they were to board the train to go home for the Easter holidays. Peter had left for a kitchen-run to acquire a feast of snacks for their Marauder’s Night In, and Sirius was finishing up a three-week stint of detentions with Professor McGonagall. The previous nights were spent with the caretaker, Filch, as if cleaning was some sort of punishment for Sirius Black, please, he loved every second of it… the real torture was today, and the hours-long chat he had to endure with their Head of House, a talk she scheduled whenever he started getting too out of hand. Which it seemed like he was, considering those detentions were earned by his ‘impulsive’ decision to start an unprovoked brawl with the Ravenclaw Seeker in the middle of the Entrance Hall. The reason given for his brutish behavior? - “I can’t stand the way Paxton’s face looks, Professor, thought I’d rearrange it, free of charge.”
Despite certain rumors insisting otherwise, the incident was wholly unrelated to multiple eyewitness reports claiming they saw the Seeker in question cornering Regulus, several times in fact, in the weeks leading up to the Ravenclaw-Slytherin match, getting all up in his face as some sort of intimidation tactic. And while James cannot corroborate those accounts, having not seen the alleged wrongdoing, he can say that if Paxton really did try to psyche out the Slytherin Seeker, he failed. Horrendously.
Regulus caught the Snitch in a spectacular (albeit dangerous) fashion. Hundreds of horrified shouts rang across the pitch when he leapt off his broom, dived twenty feet through the air, and snatched his prize right out from under the opposing Seeker’s nose, the crowd’s screams distracting Paxton from catching it himself. Prepared to fall this time, once his fingers closed around the Snitch, Regulus whistled for his broom and remounted it mid-air, a heart-stopping eight feet from the ground (Sirius was too distressed to notice James, and several others next to them, swooning at the impressive display of skill). The death-defying stunt solidified Ravenclaw’s defeat as one of the worst in their history, Slytherin scoring a whopping 510 points to their measly 30; for more than a week after the match, James bore the crescent-shaped marks of Sirius’s nails digging into his skin.
With the other two Marauders gone, it meant he was about to have some rare, cherished alone time with Remus… naturally, James was a wee bit unnerved when the werewolf began casting spell-after-spell on the door to their room in a manner that suggested he wanted to prevent anyone from getting in… or out.
“Are we about to snog?” James joked to lighten the mood.
Remus whirled around on his heel, pinning the Chaser in place with nothing more than a look. “Wouldn’t that be considered cheating?”
“Uhh… you’re seeing someone?” Wait, that didn’t sound supportive. “Congrats, mate! Anyone I know?” Wait wait wait, should he be supportive of this? “Does anyone else know about you two?” And by ‘anyone else’, he obviously meant Sirius, who for some strange reason, was very possessive of Remus’s attention. Unless he was dating Sirius? Hmm.
A vein in Remus’s temple throbbed, and James sighed internally… so much for their peaceful evening.
“Do NOT play dumb with me James Fleamont Potter! You may have been able to pull one over Sirius because he trusts that you, his best mate, would never do such a thing to him, but I have a more objective perspective… and better observation skills.”
Dear Merlin and Morgana, how could he know about the Regulus thing?! There’s no way, he’s bluffing…
Scrambling into a seated position, James went with the best tactic he could use in a situation like this - denial. “I don’t know what you’re talking about -”
“Oh really?” Remus purred in a way that James should not find alluring… was this some sort of werewolf trickery to lure in prey? He certainly felt like prey right now, especially when the taller boy stopped directly in front of him. "You don't know what I'm talking about, James?" Leaning down, he rested his palms on James’s thighs, their faces inches apart; this close, every fleck of amber in his green irises was visible, a coloring that grew more prominent closer to the full moon. “Answer me this then. Have you, or have you not, been sneaking out every night these last few weeks to see someone?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
James ran a hand through his hair, struggling to maintain eye contact; it was rule number one to never look away from Remus when he was on the hunt like this, but Merlin, was it nerve wracking. “I mean, technically I see someone when I sneak out.”
They just don’t see him, that’s all, so he’s not lying... but it sounds so creepy phrased like that, doesn’t it?
Ever since that night Regulus helped the injured cat, James may or may not have made it a habit to venture up to the Astronomy Tower whenever he had the opportunity… which wasn’t often, considering the Marauders usually paired up for pranks/exploring. And he loved Sirius with every fiber of his being, but disappearing without a satisfactory explanation was not something his friend would tolerate.
‘This is pointless,’ James would tell himself whenever he climbed those winding stairs, hidden under the Invisibility Cloak. And for a really long time, it was - Regulus wasn't there. Maybe sneaking out was a one time thing, maybe he went there for a specific reason, like meeting up with someone (a thought James discarded as soon as it crossed his mind, because there was only one thing two people went to the Astronomy Tower for after curfew, and he’d be stupidly heartbroken if Regulus was secretly dating someone, despite having every right to do so).
But in a twist of fate, Sirius earned a batch of detentions to be served by his lonesome, meaning James could easily sneak away from the other Marauders with some half-arsed excuse; he thought Remus wasn’t as nosy as the Black heir, but evidently, he was just subtler about it. And fine, he probably would have been suspicious too, if Remus suddenly disappeared night after night, something James only did because to his shock, the younger Slytherin was in the Astronomy Tower nearly every time. Resting his arms on the banister, Regulus’s eyes trailed across the starry sky for hours, never once looking bored. When James finally dragged himself away, knowing he needed to be back in the dorm before Sirius finished his detention, he swore to himself he’d find the courage to approach the younger teen the next time.
Shamefully, his Gryffindor bravery eluded him, except the night he left for the Astronomy Tower an hour earlier than usual, arranging it in just a way that he was going down the stairs as Regulus was going up. The younger boy inhaled sharply when he realized who was blocking his path, head moving to the side to peer around him, undoubtedly looking for his brother. For days, James had planned what to say, but all he could mutter out was, “Be careful, Filch is on the prowl for students out of bed tonight.”
“Isn’t that his job every night?” the Slytherin scoffed, expression pinched.
Yes, yes it was.
“I meant he’s more intent on it than usual,” James huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
Regulus tried to edge around him. “Let me guess, you’re planning to rat me out if I don’t do something for you, hmm? Go right ahead, then, Potter, because I sure as shite won’t let you blackmail me.”
Such sass, jeez… why must James find it so effing cute?!
“Oh, yes, Baby Black, let me just tell on myself in the process.”
The Slytherin froze, only one step between him and James. “Do not call me that, Potter. I might be younger than you, but we’re nearly the same height.”
“Still tiny.” James used his thumb and pointer finger to accurately depict the Slytherin’s slim waist.
Ah, and this was what started his fascination with those pink cheeks. “Not all of us share our genetics with beasts, Potter.”
James flexed his biceps, winking at the boy in front of him. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He’d have continued teasing Regulus further, but the self-preservation instincts, which he does possess despite repeated reports that he does not, told him he needed to wrap it up if he wanted to leave there alive. “But fine, have it your way.” Stepping to the side, he provided the Slytherin enough room to pass. Regulus hesitated, clearly suspicious, so the Gryffindor climbed down several steps, waiting until he was a safe distance away before calling out, “Have a good night, Baby Black!”
That counted as a real conversation, right? If only James had the courage to do it again. Instead, he sequestered himself in a comfortable spot under the Invisibility Cloak and observed. As each night passed, Regulus’s demeanor increasingly radiated a sense of… tiredness? Sadness? Melancholy? Maybe all three? James wasn’t sure what word would describe it best, but it pulled at his heartstrings.
Remus’s lips parted ever-so-slightly… was it James’s horrible eyesight, or did his teeth look sharper than usual? “Have you technically been seeing the same person every time you sneak out?”
Well, no, it’s not like he coordinated these with Regulus… sometimes, the Slytherin wasn’t there.
“No,” James said confidently. Not a lie either, take that werewolf senses!
… evidently, he should have lied.
Yanking James to his feet, Remus glared down at him, the tall bastard. “SO, NOT ONLY ARE YOU HAVING AN AFFAIR WITH YOUR BEST MATE’S YOUNGER BROTHER WITHOUT TELLING SAID BEST MATE ABOUT IT, BUT YOU’RE SEEING OTHER PEOPLE AT THE SAME TIME?! DOES REGULUS KNOW ABOUT THAT, OR ARE YOU SNEAKING AROUND BEHIND HIS BACK, TOO?”
“WHAT!?! NO!”
“YOU… WHY HAVEN’T YOU TOLD REGULUS YOU’RE SEEING OTHER PEOPLE?!”
James matched the shrillness in the werewolf’s voice. “MAYBE BECAUSE WE AREN’T DATING?!”
“HOW COULD YOU BE SO BLOODY STUPID, JAMES… AND CRUEL?! SURELY, YOU MUST KNOW HOW BADLY THIS IS GOING TO END, I MEAN, DO YOU SUDDENLY HAVE A DEATH WISH YOU'D LIKE TO CONFESS TO?” Remus’s hands waved wildly in the air while he screamed his head off. In normal circumstances, James would be delighted to see his coolheaded mate so riled up, but right then, he was not having a laugh. “IF SO, I GUESS THERE’S NO BETTER WAY TO GO ABOUT IT BECAUSE, SERIOUSLY… OH GODRIC, SIRIUS IS GOING TO HAVE A HIPPOGRIFF -”
“LIKE HOW YOU’RE HAVING A HIPPOGRIFF RIGHT NOW, REMUS?!”
“AT LEAST I’M NOT THE ONE HAVING AN AFFAIR WITH REGULUS BLACK -”
“THERE’S NO AFFAIR!”
“FINE!” Remus cried, throwing his hands in the air. “WOULD YOU PREFER DALLIANCE? ENTANGLEMENT? RENDEZVOUS? A TRYST?!”
“No, no, no! None of that, stop it!” In a desperate attempt to restore Remus to his rational, sensible self, James crashed their mouths together, effectively shutting him up… if one ignored the low growl building in his throat. “Don’t pummel me, please, please, please I can explain! This is a huge misunderstanding, there’s no affair, please never say any of those horrid words again. I am not seeing anyone, Regulus hates my guts, so Sirius doesn’t need to know anything, I’m just… pathetic, and sad, and destined to die alone. And I swear I will never kiss you again!” He threw in a cheeky wink for good measure. “Without your consent, that is.”
Regarding him with significantly more suspicion than warranted, Remus grunted, “Explain.”
“I would love to… Merlin, okay, sorry, sorry, stop looking at me like that! Godric, you’re worse than my mum.”
So, James explained. He explained from the very beginning, starting with the monumental incident in Hogsmeade that changed everything, focusing on how it impacted him mentally, how he thought he might have a crush on Sirius, and why he avoided him without explanation like a total arsehole while he tried to sort his feelings out. He next explained how he always assumed he was straight because he liked girls, unaware he could like both (‘Do you know what bisexual means, Rem?’... ‘Yes, James, I do’... ‘Duh, of course you do, you’re a walking encyclopedia. So, do you like -’... ‘We are NOT talking about me right now’). Thanks to Remus’s help on the train that day, James concluded he did enjoy kissing blokes, though he didn’t fancy anyone in particular at that time. He explained how he then began to view their male peers in an entirely different light, and while he didn’t have a ‘type’ of girl, he definitely preferred athletic blokes, which then led to him recognizing that Regulus was the only good-looking person on the Slytherin team by a long shot, a conclusion that triggered a growing sense of intrigue, which progressively led to a changed opinion regarding the youngest Black, which then led to a hopeless… crush… something James repeatedly stressed was not mutual, but still made him riddled with guilt, regardless.
“Yeah, so that’s about it,” James rasped, his throat sore from talking nonstop. “Oh, and somewhere in that process, I realized I liked this idea of Lily I created in my head, rather than her specifically… but she’s a good friend!”
“I see.” The other Gryffindor was quiet for a while longer. “Have you perhaps considered the possibility that you like an idea of Regulus that you crafted in your head? Like how maybe all he needs is a knight in shining armor, and you, the hero of his story, can ‘save’ him, too? Ooh or, better yet,” Remus said sarcastically, “maybe you’ll save him and Sirius. Reuniting the brothers Black and rescuing them from the Pureblood bigotry they were born into, what a tale that would be, huh?”
James rapidly shook his head. “No!... okay, maybe a less intense version of that crossed my mind, but that’s not why I’m interested in him. He’s just so… different from what I expected.” Unable to contain himself now that the cat was out of the bag, James flopped onto the couch and went on to list all the things he noticed about Regulus, including his likes, dislikes, mannerisms, habits, and of course, talents.
Seated across from him, Remus blinked several times when James finished fifteen minutes later, and then shook his head. “I DISTINCTLY remember you saying to me, multiple times in fact, that you didn’t understand what was so special about Regulus Black. I would also like to mention that he seems like a very private person, so if he ever found out you’ve basically been stalking him -”
“I’m not stalking him!” he cried, aghast at the insinuation. In response, Remus raised an eyebrow in the sassiest ‘oh really?’ looks James had ever seen. “Alright, I know the Astronomy Tower bit was probably excessive, borderline creepy, but in my defense, he looked so downtrodden these last few weeks, I was genuinely concerned about leaving him alone. And yes, I know I don’t really know him, so it’s none of my business, and it’s basically blasphemous to be entertaining such thoughts about my best mate’s brother, and Merlin, what are the chances he even fancies blokes?” Lowering his head, James’s voice dropped to below a whisper. “But I want to know him, Moony, I want to learn everything about him, the good and the bad, and all that’s in between.”
The silence stretched on for what seemed like an eternity. James couldn’t lift his head, didn’t want to see his friend’s disappointment in him.
But then he heard the sigh, the sigh that indicated Remus was waving the white flag, that whoever was trying to convince him to do something he wanted to do but pretended like he didn’t want to do, because he enjoyed moonlighting as a goody two-shoes, had finally succeeded (not to be confused with his other famous sigh, the one that screamed, ‘Why must I suffer this way?’, used whenever James and/or Sirius did something particularly thickheaded).
“You’ve got it bad, don’t you, bud?”
With a pained whine, James flung himself half over Remus’s lap, covering his face with his arm. “Told ya, didn’t I? Destined to die alone.”
“Oh, it certainly won’t be easy by any means,” Remus hummed, carding his fingers through James’s eternally messy hair. “But I wouldn’t say you’re completely doomed. I mean, I did think you two were having a liaison for a reason, you know?”
James groaned. “Next time I see Hope, I’m gonna ask if she purposefully ripped pages from a thesaurus to mix into your baby food.” His brain suddenly processed the second part of what his friend said. “Wait! How did you come up with that conclusion about Regulus and I?!”
It’s not like he spent any sort of time interacting with Regulus, after all.
“Lily, actually,” the werewolf chuckled, which had James lifting his head in horror. Oh Merlin, if she knew, then it was only a matter of time before the other girls knew, and Marlene and Sirius had some weird bond, so she’d have to tell him. And then Sirius would murder James, and he’d get away with it because he’s Sirius fucking Black, and then James’s parents would be devastated, and his friends would be torn over who’s side to take, and - “No, no, sorry! She asked me a couple of months ago if you’d finally found someone new to obsess over, and when she sensed my confusion, she added that you hadn’t been bothering her at all. So, I started paying more attention, which then led me to realize how much attention you were paying to a certain Slytherin.”
“But…” James prodded when Remus trailed off.
The other Gryffindor glanced away with a frown. “Look… please don’t take this as a fact, but from what I've noticed, Regulus also stares at you a lot.”
“What?! Really?” James gasped, heart thudding in his chest. They’d made eye contact occasionally, predominantly in the Great Hall whenever it happened, but he always assumed it was a coincidence. “Moony, Moony, Moony, what should I do? I never… I never thought I had a chance, but if he’s looking, that could mean...” Ugh, no, he’s getting ahead of himself. “He’s probably looking at Sirius, isn’t he? You know, I don’t think they really hate each other -”
“No shit,” Remus deadpanned.
He gently flicked the werewolf’s nose. “Too much sass from you today, mister.”
“I thought that at first too, but he still looks at you when you aren't with his brother. And as for what you should do… maybe start by being friendlier, without overwhelming him?” Remus suggested hesitantly, like he wasn’t fully on board with this plan yet.
James rubbed his chin, mind formulating plot after plot on how to proceed. “Yes, I’ll come up with something good that’ll knock his socks off -”
“Do you want to die, James?” Remus demanded without a trace of humor. “Need I remind you what happened to Hillhawk when he started running his mouth about Regulus? And remember that Ravenclaw that Sirius punched? Since that last Quidditch game, he’s been in and out of the Hospital Wing due to various unexplained conditions. If you do something that even somewhat resembles a slight against his brother -”
“There’s no proof Sirius did anything to Hillhawk,” the Chaser muttered in defense of his friend. “Or Paxton, besides the punch. It could be one of the cousins, or his friends."
With an incredulous laugh, Remus leaned down, and in a surprising twist, pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Aww, don’t look so sad, Jamie. I’ll defend you from the scary-big-brother… unless you do something stupid, then you’re on your own.”
“Should we… do you know what they fought about?” James asked hesitantly, knowing Remus will understand which incident he’s referring to.
Remus shook his head. “I have theories, of course, but every time I tried to bring it up, he’d shut down, so I stopped asking.”
“He wouldn’t tell me either,” the Chaser admitted. “For completely unselfish reasons, do you think -“
“We shouldn’t meddle,” the werewolf said sternly. “Even without your interest in his brother, Sirius’s relationship with his family is none of our business. We can support him if they ever do make amends, but it’s not our place to stir things up.”
He sighed. “You’re right.”
“As usual,” Remus teased, reaching over to gently pinch James’s cheek. “Now, what we really need to discuss is why you always crush on people who are mean to you.”
James sighed even louder.
Notes:
A lot happened in this chapter! Chapter 13 will be the last 'in the past' chapter, and then we'll be back to present-day James :)
Chapter 13: The Black Lion Shows Off His Cunningness Part II
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Half an hour later, James and Remus were still cuddled together on the couch. So caught up in their conversation about the best magical Easter candies, they both screamed when a voice suddenly growled, “Well, this looks cozy… not interrupting, am I?”
Like something straight out of a nightmare, Sirius stood in the open doorway, looking homicidal.
“You owe me a galleon, James,” Remus said breezily, untroubled by the malevolent scowl directed his way. “I told you those extra locking charms and privacy wards would be no match for Sirius’s skills.” He seemed to realize exactly what that meant right as he said it. “How exactly did you circumvent them, though?”
The murderous aura lessened by a few degrees. “Picked the lock the Muggle way, of course. Most spells of the sort only react to magic or extensive force being used.”
Remus still looked skeptical. “And where in the world did you learn to pick a lock without using magic?”
Flouncing into the room, Sirius didn’t respond immediately. Usually, James would say he was trying to build suspense, but although he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was that made him feel this way, something was off.
“Are you alright?” Remus hedged, sharing a concerned look with James.
“I TOLD you all before… you don’t know anything about my brother or what he’s capable of!” Sirius snapped, toeing his shoes off in a rather aggressive way. “In fact, no one seems to understand the first bloody thing about him, and yet, he’s too much of a pansy to tell anyone that isn’t me to piss off when they try to butt into his life.”
With that, Sirius declared he was going to bed, shutting down any potential arguments with a remark about how he needed all the beauty sleep he could get if he was being forced to deal with his family over the upcoming week. Originally, Sirius was going to come home with James during the Easter holidays, but a month ago, his Grandmother wrote him a long letter in which she requested his presence at Black Manor for the holiday, in part so he could attend his cousin Bellatrix’s engagement party. To the Marauder's astonishment, Sirius wrote back a lengthy note of his own, cheekily adding he’d go if she bought him a new pair of dress robes. He attached the torn out page of a catalog advertising the set he wanted, which naturally was from some posh, insanely overpriced French boutique. When James asked why he accepted, Sirius shrugged self-consciously, saying he felt guilty, ‘Because she always stood up for me whenever she could, and although Grandfather was a stick in the mud, my grandparents loved each other in their own weird way. She’s had a really hard time since he passed.’
And well… her response showed exactly the kind of person she was.
One - a doting grandmother, who Sirius inherited his bold, impeccable sense of fashion from. Not only did she send the robes her grandson asked for, but she added several gorgeous accessories, including a selection of earrings that had Sirius on the verge of tears (his parents were not happy when he came home for the Christmas holidays with his ears pierced, something he did on a whim a week prior in their dorm bathroom, and although they demanded he take them out, the holes didn’t close). She also added a second pair of robes that Sirius obviously liked more than his own choice… they saw right through his claims that they were ‘adequate’.
Two - a Slytherin through and through. In her attached note, she added that he’ll have the opportunity to wear both garments over the holiday, because her grandsons will be accompanying her out to dinner one evening at a restaurant of her choosing, possibly in the French Riviera, though she’s ‘open to suggestions’.
James didn’t have to wait long for an explanation of his friend’s unusual behavior; the next day, the sun was beginning to rise when his bed curtains suddenly opened, and a weight crawled over him, settling on his left side. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know it was Sirius, the action a familiar one by the middle of their first year.
“I’m sorry for being a berk last night,” Sirius whispered into his ear, tossing an arm over his middle.
James huffed a laugh. “More offended you woke me up, truthfully.” Sirius tried to move away, but the Chaser turned on his side, throwing a leg over the other boy to hold him in place. “Your alone time with Minnie didn’t go well?”
“It was an intervention.” Sirius let out a pained oof when another weight crawled over him, taking his spot on James’s right.
Remus politely handed James his glasses. “Isn’t it always an intervention?”
Sirius made a ‘so-so’ gesture with his hand. “Minnie’s a little rebel at heart, apparently. We crashed an intervention… Regulus’s, in fact.”
“WHAT?!” James and Remus both cried in tandem.
Gazing up at the canopy, Sirius went on to explain how the first half of his detention with their Head of House was ‘normal’. But about an hour in, the person in the portrait behind her desk returned to give some sort of report, only saying, ‘It’s begun’. Without further ado, she insisted he follow her so they could ‘attend to a dire matter’, and without providing any explanation whatsoever, led him to an abandoned classroom in the dungeons, where Regulus was ‘being ganged up on by Narcissa, Andromeda, his Quidditch teammates, and his friends, all of which was overseen by Slughorn himself, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else’.
“Uh, what for, though?” James nervously asked, trying his best not to seem too invested in the tale.
Rolling his eyes, Sirius finally shifted to look at his friends. “The root of the problem is he isn’t sleeping for some reason. He’s battled insomnia all his life, but right now, it’s clearly winning the war against him. And after that insane move on the pitch, where he nearly killed himself to one-up Paxton, they think he’s suicidal, since a play like that goes against their innate Slytherin self-preservation instincts. Of course, that wasn’t said outright because they’re snakes.” His lips dipped into a thoughtful frown. “I suppose it doesn’t help that he looks like a newly-made Inferius… oh, don’t look at me like that Moony, have you seen him lately?”
“I actually had a conversation with Regulus in the library the other day,” Remus retorted with a self-satisfied smirk. “And besides looking a little tired and stressed over his schoolwork, he seemed alright.”
Sirius stared at the werewolf, waiting for more, but Remus gazed back, refusing to expand on what they discussed. “Well, whatever. So, because I know my brother, I told the lot of them that unless they actually wanted Reg to off himself, they should leave him be so he can sort his shit out.”
“Sirius!” Remus cried, sounding horrified. “Please tell me you didn’t say that!”
A flush started forming across Sirius’s cheeks, never a good sign. “I sure as shit did! Did you know that after the Ravenclaw game, Fawley actually banned Regulus from attending the remaining practices before Easter break? He toyed with the idea of kicking my brother off the team for good, saying that while he wanted to win, it wasn’t worth dying for, but thank Merlin his new boyfriend isn’t an idiot and was able to talk some sense into him.” ‘Not an idiot’ was probably the closest thing to a compliment Sirius will ever give Pierre Legrand. “Do you know what’s good for insomnia, Rem? EXERCISE! And you know what makes someone more impulsive than usual? LACK OF SLEEP… are you seeing a pattern yet?!”
“I don’t think depression should be talked about so lightly, that’s all,” Remus snapped in return, eliciting an incredulous laugh from Sirius. “Depression can affect sleep patterns too - some people sleep more, others sleep less.”
“See, you’re just like the others,” the Black heir scoffed. “You don’t know him, he’s not depressed!”
Remus sent James a pointed look, no doubt remembering his description last night of how melancholy the younger Slytherin seemed whenever he saw him in the Astronomy Tower, after dropping the usual mask he puts on for the rest of the world.
Attempting to intervene before another bickering match could break out, James timidly asked, “What do you think is going on, then?”
“Look, Regulus has always been a bit of a rain cloud, and he has a tendency to say some dark, slightly morbid stuff. People sometimes find it off-putting, especially if they aren’t expecting it. When he’s overtired, poof, there goes his filter… he needs to go the fuck to sleep.” No one responded, which Sirius took offense to. “I’ll prove it, just watch!”
How he expected to prove such a thing, James didn’t ask, but boy, did they quickly find out…
About an hour into their journey home, Sirius, who had been staring vacantly out the window, absentmindedly tracing a finger over the raised scar on his palm, suddenly perked up.
“I need to use the loo,” he said, dragging James away from the game of chess he was playing with Peter, nearly upending the board in the process. “Be right back, lads.”
Well used to their codependency and lack of boundaries, the other Marauders didn’t bat an eye… though it was hard to tell with Moony, hidden behind his book the way he was.
Sirius power-walked down the corridor, passing through two carriages that had loos. Towards the end of the train, he finally stopped. “Oi, peek in through that window and let me know what you see… pretty please.”
Rolling his eyes, James inched past the compartment in question, eyes immediately drawn to one Regulus Black… though he was hard to see, considering the staggering amount of people jammed into such a small space.
“Your brother, every person in this castle you’re related to including all three Rosiers, Crouch, the blonde girl, the Slytherin Quidditch lads… and Pierre, though he looks very uncomfortable,” James reported succinctly, shamelessly crawling back to his friend, wary of being spotted by any of the compartment’s occupants.
Sirius nodded like he expected the answer. “Doing exactly as I said not to… will you go in there and tell him I need to speak with him, please?”
This time, James did ask questions. “Uh, why can’t you go in there? Or at least go with me?”
“Because one of them will pick a fight with me, and then he’ll never leave. But if you go, he’ll see it as an out.”
“And if he doesn’t follow?!” James hissed, waving his arms frantically. “Which there is a 99% chance he won’t!”
The other Gryffindor smirked. “Nah, tell him I need his help, that’ll get ‘em. The only thing he loves more than a good mystery is bragging about how superior he is... I believe in you, James, love you, thank you, good luck, mwah!” With that, Sirius blew him a kiss and sauntered away, leaving James to his wretched fate.
After spending an embarrassing amount of time psyching himself up… and pondering the best way to go about it… he lightly knocked on the compartment door, sliding it open without waiting for a response.
“Hi, sorry to interrupt,” manners were always the best route to go with these snobbish twats, “but Sirius would like to speak with you, Regulus.”
James kept his hands visible to show he was wandless, a risky move, but he hoped it would pay off. Most of the compartment gaped incredulously at him, some even going so far as to laugh in disbelief.
Sitting next to her youngest cousin, Narcissa sneered, “Are you my cousin’s dog, Potter?” Funnily enough, she held no notion of how ironic her words were. They hadn’t successfully completed the Animagus transformation, but they’d learned their forms, meaning one day, the Black heir could be James’s dog. “Aw, do you play fetch, too?”
“Oh yes, of course… I’m a very good boy,” James deadpanned, struggling to maintain a straight face when Regulus snorted at his joke. Internally, though? He squealed.
The youngest Black quickly rose to his feet, staring straight ahead without meeting anyone’s eyes. “Best to see what he wants, you know how my brother gets when he thinks he’s being ignored.”
“Mmm, quite true, very dramatic that one is,” James agreed, stepping aside so Regulus could exit the compartment. He couldn’t believe it was that easy, but what Sirius said held true - his brother was desperate to flee the attention.
Regulus fell into stride with James, who set a slower pace than usual. Shooting occasional glances at Regulus out of his peripheral vision, this close, James could see the heavy bags under his eyes, something that came from more than just a day or two of poor sleep. He looked utterly exhausted… but was still alert enough to catch James staring, ugh.
“See something you like, Potter?” Regulus hissed, stopping in the middle of the corridor.
James rapidly shook his head. “No!” Oh fuck, that sounded mean. “I mean yes!” Oh fuck, that sounded overly flirty. “No, ugh, I just… I heard you got a lot of shit for it, but your play against Paxton was bloody brilliant, and your flying in that match was even more fantastic than usual.”
Regulus blinked, and then blinked again, seemingly unsure whether or not to trust the compliment. “Um, thank you?” Huh, this had to be the first time they’d ever had a pleasant conversation... unfortunately, the amicable mood did not last, and James tensed when gray eyes narrowed into slits. “Heard I got a lot of shit for it… is this my brother’s idea of some sort of Gryffindor intervention?! The bloody hypocrite, of course he’d have to put his two galleons in -”
“He needs your help!” James blurted, cutting the annoyed Slytherin off mid-sentence. “He’s all in a tizzy over something since this morning, but he wouldn’t say what was wrong, just said you were the only one who could help, but of course he was too proud to ask on his own, hence,” he gestured towards himself, “moi.”
His lie was plausible enough, thank Merlin, because Regulus shut his mouth with a huff. The remainder of their journey was in silence, and James slid the door open to the compartment he shared with the other Marauders, waving Regulus to go ahead of him. But the Slytherin was stubborn, probably an inherited trait, and he shook his head, motioning James to enter first.
“I fucked up,” Sirius led with, gaining his brother’s full attention, along with James’s. They’d only been apart for ten minutes max, but in that time, his friend’s appearance went from immaculate and pristine to disheveled, like he really was in the midst of a crisis.
“That is the most asinine story I’ve ever heard, I literally wanted to slice my ears off halfway through just to make the torture stop,” Regulus said when Sirius finished explaining how they might have gotten a little tipsy last night… they didn’t… and he lost his dress robes in a bet to some seventh-year… they all watched him pack both pairs this morning… so he needed to order a pair that would match his brother’s, seeing as how he didn’t really remember what his own looked like… James had to hide his face to avoid laughing, because really, Sirius modeled his robes so many times this last month, that he’s pretty sure they all could draw it from memory. “How could you be so brainless?... no, wait, don’t answer that, I already know.” For some reason, his disdainful glare was directed at James.
Sirius placed both hands on his hip, unfazed by the macabre retort. “Says the one who got drunk once thanks to cousin Bella’s influence and started schmoozing with every guest at the Black Winter Gala. I remember how proud Grandmother was to see you being social… until we came to find out at the end of the night you were pickpocketing everyone within reach!”
“I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for that Mutt fellow,” Regulus sniffed, lifting his nose in the air. James got the feeling he wasn’t all that ashamed or embarrassed over his actions. “He just had to ask for his watch back right in front of Grandfather, didn’t he?”
“You can’t call werewolves that, Regulus!” Sirius shouted furiously. “He saved my life, at the very least, you could show him some respect!!”
James remembered the story Sirius told him when they were second-years, after they confronted Remus over his lycanthropy; the taller boy had whispered he couldn’t understand why they would still want to be his friend now that they knew he was a monster. The Black heir explained how werewolves saved his life when he was eight, when some idiot thought it wise to kidnap him in the middle of Diagon Alley. He had been Apparated against his will to Muggle London, and after being driven around town for hours, he eventually arrived at a decrepit warehouse. Along with several other children from rich families, snatched from the Muggle and Magical world alike, Sirius was to be ransomed back to his family or ‘auctioned to the highest bidder’. Days passed with no sign of anyone coming to rescue him, and right as he’d given up hope, the warehouse door was kicked down by the ‘biggest bloke I’d ever seen’, and then with a few others, he 'fought off all the bad guys’. Sirius added he hadn’t a single inkling that they were werewolves until his Uncle Gio (of no actual relation) mentioned no one in the Black family could locate him, so he had to call in his ‘work associates’ (Sirius clarified that his Uncle Alphard’s caretaker had a side business working with the French magical government to locate missing persons, utilizing a combination of complex magic and werewolf trackers… he acknowledged that while it sounded cool, he’s sure there’s something sketchy about it, but it’s one of those things the family rarely discussed).
Remus finally lowered his book, maintaining a solid poker face as he watched the exchange between the two brothers.
“It’s his name, you idiot!”
“Oh, piss off, did Mother tell you that?”
Regulus rolled his eyes. “Uh, no, Sirius, he told me that. Matthias Mutt, we had a laugh about it. An excellent tracker, but he prefers working with Grandmother at Black Manor, rather than with Uncle Gio." James had a lot of questions about that, but understood it wasn't the time. "He saved your life, brother, and yet years later, you still know nothing about him. Curious, isn’t it?”
“Okay, first off, he’s more of a hermit than you are, and second, I’ve tried to talk to him when he’s around, ‘cept every time I get close, someone, usually Mother, pulls me away,” Sirius whined, shoulders slumping. “He’s so cool.”
The Slytherin made a face. “He’s never met a vampire, though.”
“Ah yes, your golden standard of who’s cool or not.”
“At least I have standards.”
Silence followed, the brothers staring each other down, squinting-eyes watering, each too stubborn to break. James loves his best mate, but Sirius… Sirius plays dirty sometimes, including in this instance. Moving like he was going to poke Regulus in the eye… he unintentionally ended up doing so, because his younger brother did not flinch back as expected.
“OW!!! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!" Regulus shrieked, clutching a hand over his left eye. “YOU BLINDED ME!”
Panicked hands reached for his younger sibling. “Sorry, sorry! You were supposed to move, but you just -”
“Oh, so it’s my fault you put me in this predicament?” the Slytherin snarled. “Victim blaming, real noble of you, brother.”
“Shut up, and let me fix it -”
“No, don’t touch me… I’m TELLING -”
An incredulous laugh bubbled out of Sirius’s mouth. “Of course, poor wittle Reggie, running to Cissa and Andie when his big bad brother is being mean to him, like I care what they -”
“Grandmother.”
At that, the Black heir stopped short. “Now, brother, there’s no need to get her involved, it was an accident -”
With an air of triumph, despite one hand covering half his face, Regulus reached behind him to open the compartment door… only to hear the sound of the lock clicking into place, accomplished by Sirius with a swish of his wand. “Let. Me. Go!”
“You may go, if it so pleases you… once you let me take a look at that eye.”
It’s James’s firm belief, even to this day, that Sirius hasn’t the foggiest idea how frightening he looks when he stalks towards someone, his face twisted up with anger or annoyance. It’s understandable then, why Regulus backed away into the opposite corner of the compartment like a… well, like a cornered animal.
“You want to duel me?” Sirius eyed the wand aimed at him with contempt. “Maybe you do have a death wish. Go on then, I’ll even let you start… should we bow first?”
One hand still covering his eye, the other clutching the wand he had trained on his brother, Regulus spat, “A Black never bows to a lesser.”
It took James a second to understand what the younger Slytherin meant, but Sirius knew immediately.
“YOU’RE NOT RID OF ME YET, RUNT!”
In the end, Regulus did cast first...
“ALOHOMORA!” (A surprisingly clever move, at least in James’s opinion.)
Sirius either had phenomenal reflexes, or anticipated the turn of events. They went back and forth for ages -
Unlock.
Lock.
Unlock.
Lock.
Unlock.
Lock.
At his wit’s end, James finally snapped, “Maybe you should just let him go, Sirius! This clearly is not a productive use of anyone’s time.”
“I agree -”
“Listen to your pet mongrel, brother.”
Sirius, who had been enjoying trying to outmaneuver his brother, suddenly screamed, “Expelliarmus!” and snatched Regulus’s wand out of the air. “REGULUS ARCTURUS, YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO PUT YOUR ARSE INTO THAT SEAT, OR I ASSURE YOU, BROTHER, YOU WILL NOT LIKE THE CONSEQUENCES!”
He did not need to count. To their bewilderment, Regulus, who had gone tense in that, ‘oh shite, I’ve really fucked up’ way, swept passed his fuming brother, his gaze lowered to the ground, and primly took the seat by the window. His hands dropped to his lap, even though his left eye, which he kept closed, was obviously still smarting.
Hands on his hips and sporting a rather cross expression, Sirius looked ever-the-picture of a displeased mum. “I will not tolerate you speaking to Remus that way -”
Regulus’s head jerked up. “I didn’t!”
“Do not LIE, brother, I heard you -”
“I was responding to Potter, Sirius!” There was a franticness in Regulus’s voice. “I swear, I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t call Lupin your pet mongrel… I mean, if anything, you are Lupin’s pet mongrel… but it was… it was a joke.” Gray eyes… eye… met James’s across the compartment.
Suddenly catching on, he leapt to the younger’s defense. “It's an inside joke!”
Sirius took the seat next to his brother. “Really, James, is that so? An inside joke, between you and Regulus?”
“It is so.” He almost wilted under his mate’s stern expression… good Godric, Sirius could have made an excellent Prefect if he ever decided to maintain such an aura outside of confrontations with his brother… but James pulled himself together, for Regulus’s sake. “From earlier, when you had me fetch him.”
Remus, the future Prefect, cut in. “Perhaps it’s best if we don’t call anyone a mongrel?”
The brothers exchanged the briefest of looks.
“Open your eye,” the compartment was tiny, so everyone heard the whispered, “mongrel.”
“I don’t take orders from mongrels.” In spite of his harsh words, Regulus’s eye fluttered open.
“Alright, it’s not so bad, an easy fix… go ahead and close both of them, mongrel.”
“Make up your mind, mongrel.” But again, Regulus did as he was told.
The brothers steadfastly ignored Remus’s scoffing, “Great, now there’s two of them.”
Pale fingers gently gripped the back of the younger Slytherin’s head, thumbs rubbing soothing circles along his temples.
“If you dare prank me, I assure you brother, I will tell Grandmother the moment we arrive…” His words trailed off, and he made a frankly adorable sound of confusion. But his speechlessness was only temporary. Eyes flying open, he hissed, “Kissing it better? That’s your great plan? I knew this was a…” Regulus blinked repeatedly and peered around the compartment, his left eye back to its former condition (actually better, because Sirius's magic reduced some of the bags around both eyes).
Sirius grinned ruefully. “Haven’t you heard the rumors around Hogwarts, Reggie? My kisses are magical.”
The Marauders added their own jeers to the Slytherin’s.
“I despise you.”
“Sure you do.” Grabbing the sleeve of his brother’s robe, he slipped Regulus’s wand back into its holster. “Now, back to why you’re here in the first place… breakfast first, and then we shop.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Regulus huffed, “If you recall, I never actually agreed to help.” Ignoring his brother, Sirius asked Peter to pass him the picnic basket he got from the house elves last night. The Slytherin eyed the plethora of Cauldron Cakes that Sirius was piling onto the space between them with visible interest. “The trolley cart doesn’t come this early.”
Sirius shrugged. “You’re welcome to return to your compartment… I’m sure our cousins already miss you dearly. And as for the trolley cart, it does when you’re beautiful.” He temptingly held out one of the individually wrapped treats to his brother.
Taking the offering, Regulus crooned, “I’ll be sure to give Legrand my thanks,” before taking a huge bite of his Cauldron Cake.
Making his way through an impressive amount of food, Regulus looked wholly unperturbed by Sirius’s twenty minute rant, complete with agitated pacing, over how he’s much more beautiful than Pierre Legrand, thank you very much, and, ‘You only like him because he’s dating your Captain, but he’s really not that great, I just don’t see the appeal’. When Regulus finally finished eating, Sirius plopped down next to him, holding a stack of ten catalogs… they only made it through a portion of the first one. As the brothers scrutinized each robe, Sirius read the description aloud, his voice taking on a rather soothing, lulling quality, the compartment growing colder and colder as the minutes passed. Regulus tried to hide a yawn in the crook of his elbow, but in doing so, a lock of hair fell over his eyes. In a smooth move had it been anyone else, Sirius stretched his arm over his brother’s shoulders, using his fingers to brush the hair out of his face. Waiting a few minutes, he then started to scratch his brother’s scalp, and just like that, Regulus’s eyes shut completely.
“That doesn’t prove anything,” Remus snipped, wiping Sirius’s smug grin off his face, “besides that he was tired.”
Despite Remus’s skepticism regarding the reason for Regulus’s melancholy, they could all agree he was exhausted. Sirius assured them that they could chat as normal, claiming that the difficult part was getting him to sleep; once Regulus drifted off, the challenging part then became waking him up.
And Sirius was right. The younger Slytherin slept on his brother’s shoulder for the remainder of the train ride, clocking in at least six hours of rest. Regulus dozed through everything, including James temporarily taking over for Sirius, so the other Gryffindor could stretch his legs and use the loo, and the subsequent argument with his friends, who arrived less than five minutes after the Black heir stepped out of the compartment. Taking one look at a peacefully slumbering Regulus, Rosier and Crouch accused the Gryffindors of drugging Regulus with a Dreamless Sleep potion, an allegation that was seconds away from resulting in wands being drawn when Sirius returned.
“Just who I wanted to see!” Sirius clapped Rosier on the shoulder, nudging both Slytherins fully into the compartment and closing the door behind him.
Rosier peered at the Black heir with contempt. “How could you do such a thing? I never thought you’d stoop so low, but really, give the company you surround yourself with now, I should have expected -”
“Watch it,” James growled, already on the defensive from the beginning of their quarrel. “I don’t appreciate your insinuation, little snake.”
“Evan, you know I would never give such a potion to my brother, don’t be a prat,” Sirius scoffed, motioning for James to switch places again. After a lot of careful maneuvering, given how Regulus had burrowed his face into the Chaser’s shoulder, they succeeded in their objective, though James was positive his heart would never recover from the sheer cuteness. “I know how addicting it can be, and I know how he feels about taking it. You are also aware, I’m sure, that I’ve been putting BOTH of you to sleep since I was, what, three years old? Maybe younger?” Crouch’s mouth twitched, like he wanted to smirk, but the remark caused Rosier’s entire face to flush. “Now, sit, we have lots to discuss… unless you want to return to my cousins and the lovely ladies you call sisters?”
The shorter Slytherin seemed like he was going to continue to argue, but with a shudder, Crouch flopped down across from Peter, leading Rosier to sit primly next to Remus.
Not one to beat around the bush, Sirius tossed a pumpkin pastie from the picnic basket at Rosier, and then got straight to the point. “Now, what started all of this?” He jerked his head towards his brother.
“If you think you can bribe me to betray my best friend -”
The Black heir rolled his eyes. “Oh, pumpkin, I know I can. You want Reg to get better, don’t you?”
“He had a nightmare a month or so ago,” Crouch responded before Rosier could say anything, his eyes focused intently on Sirius’s face, cataloging his reaction. “That the Common Room flooded with water from somewhere in the castle, which was enough to break the windows looking out into the lake, and… well, I’m sure you can figure out what happened. He didn’t sleep for days, but the night he finally crashed, we woke up the next morning to find the Common Room and every dorm room but ours flooded with glitter.”
James tried to catch Sirius’s eye, because what the fuck?! They’d been toying with the idea of flooding the dungeons with a little bit of water… not enough to do any major damage, but enough to be annoying… when Remus finally convinced them that glitter would be a better idea.
Was it a coincidence?
Sirius’s expression remained neutral, fingers absentmindedly carding through his brother’s hair. “That was weeks ago, though. You’re telling me he hasn’t slept since then? There’s no way, that’s not physically possible.”
“He’ll take naps, sometimes in class or in the kitchens,” Rosier said, his reluctance in ‘betraying’ his friend evident. “We’ve gotten him to sleep in Ravenclaw a few times, but he’s caught on to why we suddenly want to hang out with Pandora in her dorm instead of ours, and refuses to go.”
Well, good! In James’s totally unbiased opinion, he shouldn’t be sleeping there.
“Stubborn, isn’t he?” Sirius sighed, like he’s not exactly the same way. “Now, here’s what I don’t get, Evan. We both know he isn’t depressed, so why do you let the girls harass -”
Rosier’s expression turned thunderous. “Let?! You think I let my sisters do things? That I let your cousins pester Reg about how life is worth living, and if he feels like it isn’t, then he should come talk to them? I can tell them until I’m blue in the face that he’s just fucking tired, believe me, I’ve tried, but,” his voice lowered to barely a whisper, “they don’t trust my judgement.”
“The shit with Travers wasn’t your fault -”
“I never said it was.” Sirius pinned the younger Slytherin with a look that James swears he must have learned from Remus. “Over three fucking years, and I had no clue he was harassing Reg at every opportunity,” Rosier snorted bitterly. “I get why they don’t believe me, I wouldn’t trust my judgment either.”
Crouch frowned and opened his mouth to say something, but Sirius beat him to it. “Did you ever hear about Reg’s fifth birthday?” Rosier blinked at the sudden topic change, but then shook his head. “We were at Uncle Alphard’s Villa in France, and I’d spent basically an entire week at my brother’s side. Didn’t notice anything strange, except how he kept excusing himself to the loo more than usual, but I figured he was hiding from the attention.” Both Slytherins nodded like this was understandable. “I even asked if he was alright, but he looked at me like I was crazy and said he was fine. So, imagine my surprise when he faints right before his birthday dinner and has to be rushed to St. Mungos. Turns out, he was going to the loo to throw up after catching some stomach illness, becoming so dehydrated, they required him to stay for two nights. And I had no fucking clue.” Sirius paused, letting his words sink in. “Reg has always played his cards close to his chest. If he doesn’t want you to know something, then there’s a 93% chance you’re not going to.”
Notes:
This is the last 'in the past' chapter from James's POV. Next chapter will be back to present day, where things get a lil intense between Reg and James, hehe.
I hope everyone has a good holiday, no matter what you celebrate! If all goes according to plan, the next chapter should be out before the New Year :)
Chapter 14: Mutually Assured Destruction
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Oh, what a fun group this is!” Peeves cackles from behind James, jerking him out of his thoughts. “Potty wee Potter, barking mad Black, and…” Regulus’s cocks an eyebrow at the poltergeist, who dips into a low bow in front of the younger Slytherin, “his highness, Mr. Little Lord Black. Peevsie is honored to be in his esteemed presence, the rightful heir to his great house -”
Sirius inflates like a puffer-fish. “EXCUSE ME?! I think the bloody fuck not!”
He glares accusingly at his sibling, who holds his hands up defensively with a shrug… but it’s impossible to miss Regulus’s amused smirk, and oh look, here comes the angry French bickering again.
“Peevsie is so thrilled to be asked to help!” The poltergeist completes a series of mid-air somersaults above their group after hearing an overview of the task in question, along with the reasoning behind it. “I would be happy, very happy to assist, terrible thing that Puff did to my good friend! He must pay, oh that I agree. But first, rotten business this is, you know. His Headship won’t be pleased if he finds out. Let’s talk some incentives -”
“HA!” the Slytherin snorts, staring disdainfully at James… wait, what? “I told you he couldn’t do it, Potter. What a complete waste of time.”
The poltergeist frowns. “Wait a diddly darn minute now, Peevsie never said he couldn’t do it -”
“If we were going the poltergeist route,” Regulus remarks coolly to his brother, “we should have asked -”
“DO NOT SAY HIS NAME!” Peeves bellows, covering his ears. “The most wretched of fellows! That FOOL could never -”
“Mewse, the poltergeist Uncle Gio knows,” Regulus continues unaffectedly. “He’s very capable -”
The Bloody Baron nods. “Oh yes, I’ve heard he’s quite competent, certainly more than qualified for the job at hand.”
Peeves shrieks like he’s in physical pain, and then rips a vial of potion out of Sirius’s hands. “He could never be as great as me! The shame, oh, how could you say such a thing? Peevsie will prove himself, I’ll show you all!” Zooming down the corridor at breakneck speed, he comes to an abrupt stop when he reaches the end, only to float slowly backwards, returning to their group. “Err… anyone wish to provide a description of this Puff, or should I just go for whoever looks like the biggest crackpot?”
After a short discussion, Sirius nominates himself to be the one to help Peeves find Smith. The two house ghosts volunteer to search the castle as well, ideally cutting down the time it takes to locate him… and if Smith’s in his dorm, then they’ll be able to direct Peeves to the right person. Regulus and James agree to meet him in the kitchens when it’s over, Sirius glaring pointedly at his friend, the message loud and clear - ‘Make sure my brother eats dinner, or suffer the consequences’.
Walking side-by-side towards the staircase, Regulus briefly glances over at James with those gorgeous gray eyes, several shades lighter than his brother’s, and in his well-educated opinion, much more breathtaking. “May I ask you a question, Potter?”
Fortunately for James, the Slytherin then returns to staring straight ahead, missing the sheer look of panic his words induced. He’s going to accuse James of stalking him, isn’t he? Oh Merlin, Moony always gets so annoyingly smug when it turns out he’s right.
“You may,” James responds bracingly, utterly terrified of whatever’s going to come out of the younger’s mouth next.
“I would like to begin by making it clear that I am not complaining,” Regulus says, which is an odd start to an accusation, “but why has your other little friend not spent time with my brother in the midst of his quarrel with Lupin?" Stepping onto the moving staircase, James grips onto the bannister, nearly collapsing with relief at the line of questioning. "Is he on Lupin’s side, whereas you’re more neutral?”
Evidently, James doesn’t answer fast enough for someone’s liking; when they reach the next landing, Regulus turns to face him head on, crossing his arms over his chest, expression screaming, ‘I asked you a question, and I demand you answer me, now.’ (He can’t help but wonder if Sirius picked it up from Regulus, or vice versa, because bloody hell, how many times has James seen that exact look before?)
“That ‘little friend’ has a name, you know,” James gently chides. Peter might not be here, but he knows how insecure his friend is about being the ‘tagalong’ in their group. And sure, he might not be as popular, rich, handsome, or academically inclined as the other Marauders (he’s not stupid by any means, but magic doesn’t come as easily to him as it does Sirius, James, and Remus… it’s also impossible to be as studious as Remus, who’s a giant swot at heart). But Peter’s a great guy with many other laudable qualities, and it annoys James to no end when people dismiss him like that, especially if they don’t know him. He doesn’t row with Sirius often, but James absolutely will get snippy with him regarding the snide, sometimes downright mean comments he’ll make at Peter’s expense. “It’s Peter.”
“I know,” Regulus responds evenly, his face a blank mask. “And trust me when I say, I do not care.”
Such an attitude towards one of his best mates would normally set James off, but he’s got this nagging feeling that there’s something more going on that meets the eye… possibly because of what he’s heard from Peter himself, or maybe because he’s starting to see how Regulus has his own particular way of being protective of his brother. (James is so thankful that Regulus has yet to enact some plot against Remus following his spat with Sirius, at least to his knowledge. In the days after the scuffle between Remus and Regulus, James has had to keep a firm eye on the Prewett twins, who scowl and mutter darkly whenever they're in the same room as Remus. Worse, Remus has fallen into another woe-is-me-I'm-a-monster-and-everybody-should-despise-me phase. Sweet Merlin, the only reason the twins haven't attacked yet is probably because it's obvious that Remus hates himself more than they ever could. It's all such a mess.)
“He hasn’t taken sides, he’s just always gotten on better with Remus, who was his first friend here.” James congratulates himself on his suitable, mature response, one that’s believable, moderately true, and doesn’t reveal something Peter definitely doesn’t want the Slytherin to know.
“So, he’s taken sides!” Regulus hotly counters, a red flush starting to crawl up his neck that has James internally panicking again. “Something that’s clear to anyone with an ounce of intelligence.”
He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Regulus launch into the kind of full blown rant that Sirius is known for… perhaps this sort of flush means something else? James does not know, and because he doesn’t know, he blurts out the truth. “He hasn’t taken sides! But he hasn’t been hanging out with Sirius outside of lessons because Sirius hangs out with you, and well, in all honesty,” he silently begs his friend to forgive him, “Pete’s terrified of you.”
It’s genuinely mind-boggling how quickly Regulus’s bad mood disappears, the younger teen perking up like he was told he’s about to receive a very exciting gift. “Oh dear, is that so?” James should not find his ‘innocent’ smile so endearing, ugh, he’s the worst friend in the world, isn’t he? “Has he said why, perchance?”
With a shrug, James starts walking again. “Uh… something about you bumping into him -”
“He bumped into me!” Regulus scathingly interrupts, and oh dear indeed, here comes that rosy-coloring again. “However, I apologized because I was raised with manners, but because Sirius and I weren’t on good terms anymore, he tried to get fresh, going on about how I better watch where I was going from then on, or next time, I would see the end of his wand.”
James winces… yeah, not only could he see Peter saying that during the first month or two after the brothers stopped talking, back when they were trying to get Sirius out of his funk, but since he knows Regulus a bit better now, he understands… somewhat… where the Slytherin’s threat came from. “So, you said something to the effect of -”
“If he ever so much as looks my way again, I’ll gouge his eyes out with the end of my wand, and then turn them into baubles to hang on our family’s Christmas tree back home,” Regulus finishes proudly.
Peter returned to the dorm looking petrified after his run in with Regulus; it took nearly thirty minutes of Remus’s smooth, sweet talking to get him to spill what happened. Poor Sirius was horrified upon hearing what his brother said, the story modified slightly to make Regulus look like the sole aggressor. The Black heir alternated between profusely apologizing and assuring Peter that his family doesn’t hang eyeballs on their Christmas tree… Remus, however, had to excuse himself to the loo, where James is 98.5% sure he silently laughed so hard, he cried.
“Yes, well… I’m sure you understand why Peter prefers to sit with Remus,” James adds with a playful glare.
“Like I said, I wasn’t complaining, merely curious.”
Deciding it’s best to redirect the conversation away from his friend’s trauma, James somewhat jokingly asks, “Is Peeves frightened of you, too?”
“We have an understanding,” Regulus responds vaguely. “Additionally, for all of his chaoticism, Peeves is not stupid… he knows my brother is easy to rile up.”
Well… there’s no arguing with that last point.
Pressing for more information regarding this ‘understanding’ between the Slytherin and the poltergeist doesn’t get James anywhere, Regulus changing the subject every time. So, the next few minutes are spent discussing what leftovers they’ll likely find when they arrive in the kitchens, until James mucks everything up… spectacularly.
“I simply refuse to believe this is a shortcut to the kitchens,” Regulus mutters when the Gryffindor leads him down a corridor on the third floor, rather than continuing to the next moving staircase.
It’s not, he is correct, but while talking about dinner, James remembered the meal would be coming to an end in the Great Hall sometime in the next few minutes, meaning the staircases were about to be filled with Ravenclaws and Gryffindors returning to their dorms, plus other students dispersing to wherever their various clubs met for the evening. And truth be told, James did not wish to share his time with Regulus, knowing the introverted, soft-spoken teen was much less likely to talk as freely as he was now, when no one was around.
“It would be better if we stayed off the beaten path,” James responds, realizing as he says it, it’s actually true… they’re likely to garner a lot of attention if anyone sees them together. “We shouldn’t run into anyone going this way.”
Regulus looks like he’s about to say something, but they suddenly hear an influx of voices, then the sound of hundreds of students clambering towards the staircase. With a sharp nod, the Slytherin follows James, but his previously descriptive responses unexpectedly become one-word, curt answers.
Recognizing he fucked up somewhere along the line, James is trying to think of how to fix it when a new voice from the opposite end of the hallway has him stopping in his tracks.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Filch, but I have not seen or heard from Peeves since this morning,” the Gryffindor Head of House remarks.
James almost smacks his forehead when he remembers that the staff has a faculty meeting after dinner on Mondays, and guess where the faculty room is? (However, with the direction the voices are coming from, it means there’s gotta be a shortcut behind the staff table or near the Great Hall, that leads up here… he makes a mental note to explore that topic at a more inopportune time).
Frantically looking for an escape route… James Potter and Regulus Black walking together, with no Sirius Black in sight, is bound to draw unwanted questions… he spots their saving-grace in his peripheral vision. It’s too close to the staffroom for his liking, on the opposite side of the hall and down a short ways, but it’ll have to do.
“What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?!” Regulus demands when James shoves him into the broom closet without warning.
Lifting a finger to his lips, a futile action considering it’s pitch black in here, the Chaser casts a Notice-Me-Not charm on the cupboard, and after a second of consideration, a silencing spell. James will use this time wisely to figure out what the fuck is going on with the younger Slytherin… huh, he’s basically an expert at Black moodiness, isn’t he? He should write a book one day.
“It’s best if we aren’t seen together, don’t you agree?”
His last spell is a Lumos, so he can actually see the person he’s trying to talk to. Granted, when James turns around and catches Regulus’s wrathful, murderous expression, one that’s infinitely scarier than Sirius’s when he walked in on James and Remus cuddling right before Easter, he regrets it immediately.
“Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry… are you…” Asking Regulus outright if he’s claustrophobic assuredly wouldn't go over well, fuck. “Um, he always denied it, but for about a year or two, Sirius used to get very testy whenever we’d hide out in places such as this. And there’s nothing wrong with that! Not liking small spaces isn’t anything to be ashamed of.” He is stretching the truth here, of course. ‘Flustered’ would probably be a better word.
Regulus arches an eyebrow, arms once again crossed over his chest. This time, James is pretty sure it’s not because he’s being sassy - he’s holding onto the wand in his sleeve. “Spend a lot of time hanging out with my brother in broom closets, do you, Potter?”
“Well, yeah, we've probably been in every broom closet in this school, at least once,” James says breezily… he abruptly realizes how that might come across when both eyebrows are suddenly raised. “Not in a gay way or anything! Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, or a bloke snogging another bloke in a broom closet, but that’s not what Sirius and I were doing, of course.” Biting his lip, he blurts out what he’s been secretly dying to ask for days. “I mean, do you have a problem with it?”
The Slytherin squints at him. “Why would I care that you’re spending quality time with my brother in a broom closet? It’s weird, but whatever works for you two.”
Oh, so he’s going to make James say it plain terms, alright. “I meant do you have a problem with Sirius being gay?”
Great news! Regulus also has his own version of his brother’s, ‘I-will-murder-you-and-get-away-with-it’ expression, except his involves the promise of a very painful, gory, dragged out death.
“HOW DARE YOU ASK ME SUCH A THING?!” Regulus spits, getting right in James’s face. Oh Godric, he’s really going to die in here, isn’t he? What a horrible place to go. “Although, I absolutely do not owe you an answer, I’ll provide you one, since clearly you have some misconstrued view of me due to whatever overly exaggerated tales my brother has fed you.” James hesitantly nods, wary of making any sudden moves. “Over fourteen years, I have known my brother, and throughout that time, I have accepted every single facet of who he is. Not once have I EVER sought to change him. I have accepted his obsessive need to clean and organize everything, I have accepted his love for all-things Muggle, I have accepted his desire to always be the center of attention, I have accepted how he fidgets nonstop while awake, I have accepted how he needs constant reassurance despite outwardly projecting a confident aura of ‘I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks of me’, so NATURALLY, Potter, I have accepted his preference for the same sex, something I realized long before he ever told me!”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” James murmurs meekly, watching Regulus’s chest heave up and down as he tries to even out his breathing. In the midst of his own panic, he can admit to himself that it's a relief to learn he didn't accidentally just out his best friend - James assumed Regulus knew Sirius was gay based on the whole him-thinking-Sirius-and-Remus-were-dating thing, but Merlin, what if he'd been wrong on that account too?! “I shouldn’t have asked that, it’s not my place, and I was very out of line.”
“You didn’t upset me," the Slytherin rolls his eyes, "that would require me giving a fuck about you, which I don’t.”
Then why are you shouting? is what James wants to say, but he bites it back at the last moment. Normally, James think Regulus is ‘mean’ as a defense mechanism, and it’s usually fucking adorable, but this is crossing into legitimately mean territory.
“Mmm, I’m pretty sure I’ve done something else to upset you, and if you’d tell me what that was, I would like to apologize, so we can move past it.”
Regulus balks. “Spare me your Hufflepuff ‘let’s all be friends’ bullshit, Potter! You’re a bloody hypocrite. Without my brother and your legion of fans around, the ones you put on your ‘good-guy’ mask for, your true colors have finally shown. You’re nothing but a status-seeking, self-serving sycophant, exactly as my Mother warned my brother years ago.”
“Excuse me?!” he cries, straightening his posture and rolling his shoulders back. If Regulus wants a fight, then James will bloody give him one. “I am none of those things!”
The younger teen’s gaze sweeps up and down his form. “If you’re going to be two-faced, then at least make one of them pretty, Potter, I mean really.”
Ouch.
“Look, Regulus, I don’t know what the fuck your problem is -”
“I don’t have a problem!” James arches an eyebrow, trying to mimic Remus’s ‘are-you-fucking-sure-about-that?’ face. To his surprise, it works, because a minute later, the Slytherin finally explains himself. “I just find it funny how you are the one who waves to me in the halls, sits next to me at meals, seeks me out when my brother is around, but the moment he’s gone, now suddenly you can’t be seen with me? Curious, isn’t it, why that might be?”
When did he ever say… oh, oh, oh no, no, no. Fuck, he fucked up so bad, didn’t he?!
“Regulus, no! That’s not -”
“Fuck you, Potter!” Like that encounter in the Entrance Hall last week, Regulus shoves him backwards, only this time, James is prepared for the contact. Grabbing onto his forearms, the Gryffindor holds tightly onto the younger Slytherin, desperate to clear the air. “Let go of me! You worthless scum, how dare you put your filthy hands on me!”
“Regulus, listen please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean what you think, I just meant because Sirius wasn’t here, we couldn’t be seen -” Regulus tries (and fails, thank Merlin) to knee him in the least desirable place to be kicked. “It’s not you, it’s NOT. We can’t be seen together, people will talk, Regulus, please, they’ll talk, and Sirius is off doing stuff, bad stuff, and people will talk, wonder where he is, why he isn’t with us, he’s always with us, and he can’t… he can’t get caught, Regulus, he can’t, not with this.” James should probably breathe, but Regulus has to understand, it’s imperative that he understands. “He’ll get expelled, he will, and I can’t, I can’t let that happen, please, he can’t leave here, he can't go back home, or to Durmstrang, he can’t leave me.” He gasps for air, but it doesn’t seem to help. “Sirius can’t get expelled, he can’t, he can’t leave, please, please believe me, Regulus.”
James can’t tell if Regulus believes him, doesn’t think so, but he doesn’t know what else to say. Regulus needs to believe him, he needs to, otherwise, fuck, he fucked up so bad, he always does, Remus was right, this was destined to end terribly, but shouldn’t he have known that? He’ll never be good enough for Regulus, doesn’t deserve Sirius, doesn’t deserve either of them, will never be good enough for -
Suddenly…
His mind stops.
His mind stops, he stops hyperventilating.
His mind stops, he stops hyperventilating, because a pair of lips connects with his.
His mind stops, he stops hyperventilating, because a pair of lips connects with his, Regulus’s lips connect with his, and just as James’s mind starts working again, just as he’s about to kiss Regulus back, because Regulus is kissing him, what the fuck, Regulus Black is kissing James Potter, the lips are gone.
“You… you kissed me?” James isn’t sure why he sounds so confused, because that’s definitely what happened - Regulus pressed his lips to James’s own… but why he would do that, begs the question.
Regulus’s expression goes from slightly dazed to horrified. “I’m so sorry, Potter! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have done that, I just read in a novel once that a character stopped another character from having a panic attack by kissing them, but such a concept is hard to research, you see, and naturally, the only explanation I could conclude was that because they held their breath, it somehow stopped them from panicking, which sounds like something only possible in literary works, artistic creativity if you will, and I’m not very good with words, plus we’d already had a massive misunderstanding, but you were panicking, so I thought I should try it -”
James blinks, stunned by the frantic word vomit. Should he… should he kiss Regulus, return the favor so to speak? Or would that result in his untimely death?
Before he can decide, a shift in the Slytherin’s tone jolts James back into focus.
“You CANNOT tell my brother about this, Potter, please, I beg you, please don’t tell him.” His voice sounds so desperate, it’s honestly painful to hear. “I’ll do anything, or give you anything, but Sirius can NEVER find out.”
“Regulus, I don’t want -”
“Since we don’t have a third person to complete the Unbreakable Vow,” Regulus’s chin juts out, “I’ll pay you to maintain your silence, just name your price.”
James’s mouth drops open on its own accord. “I don’t want your money!” He’s joking, right? Like this is some bizarre, Slytherin idea of a joke? Or maybe a test?
“Just take it, Potter, so I know we have a deal.” Not a joke, alright. Blimey, guess trust issues run in the family too. Could still be a test, though, yeah? “You can buy yourself something nice.”
Mmm, probably not a test. “News flash,” James mocks, scowling at the younger teen. “I am filthy rich, too!”
His annoyance grows when Regulus’s expression becomes skeptical. “Oh, I’m sure your family’s Gringotts vault is loaded, maybe even the separate vault containing your trust fund, but the dozens of vaults my family owns are overflowing with galleons, jewels, rare books and artifacts, not to mention our extensive list of properties -”
James retorts with the only thing that’s ever shut Sirius up. “There's a professional-sized Quidditch Pitch on the grounds of Potter Manor.”
Ah, how sweet it is to know that same tidbit works on Regulus as well.
“We could have one at Black Manor,” Regulus mutters, his voice on the cusp of a whine. “Two, even, the grounds are undeniably large enough. But my grandparents said no, as did Father the last time I asked.”
The Chaser makes a sympathetic sound in lieu of a coo, but hastily starts speaking when it seems as if Regulus is going to draw his wand. “Clearly, you’re never going to take me at my word that I won’t say anything, so the only viable solution here is that I kiss you to make us even.” This is honest-to-Merlin the worst idea he’s ever had, but here he goes anyway. “Sirius is very protective of you, as I’m sure you’ve realized. I know for a fact my status as best mate wouldn’t help if he finds out I snogged his little brother in a broom closet.”
Regulus’s brows furrow while he considers the proposal, and James nearly cheers when his expression smooths out once more. “Mutually-assured destruction. I’m impressed, Potter.” Ah, bugger, then why is the suspicious look back again? “But why would you want us to be even, when you can have something -”
James throws his hands in the air. “Dear fucking Merlin, I don’t want to have something over you, Regulus! I’m not that kind of person, alright?”
A beat of silence passes, and then another. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Regulus mimics, deepening his voice in a way that should not make James laugh.
“You’re bloody insufferable, has anyone ever told you that?”
Regulus coyly tilts his head to the side. “You’re one to talk, Potter.”
He steps closer.
Following the Slytherin’s lead, James takes an additional step forward.
“Shut up.”
They’re almost nose to nose when Regulus whispers, “Make me… James.”
Fuck, he’s probably heard hundreds of different people say his name, but how does it sound so right coming from Regulus?
James hardly has to move, close as they are already, and then their lips are connecting again. It’s slower, more sensual compared to kissing… stop comparing them, that’s fucking weird! James screams in his head. But it’s hard not to. Especially because it’s not awkward, not like snogging… Regulus clearly knows what he’s doing, the way his lips move perfectly against James’s own, how he deepens the kiss, then backs away, teasing, always in control. And James gives him that, let’s himself follow, simply basks in the once-in-a-lifetime experience of snogging Regulus fucking Black.
It’s intoxicating how Regulus fits against him. They’re close in height, but he’s incredibly slender, a seamless mix of sharp angles and lithe, lean muscle, especially in comparison to James’s bulky frame. Regulus is strong, James knows he is, but his brain can’t help but scream delicate, delicate, don’t break, handle with care, as if the younger teen couldn’t murder him in fifty different ways without a wand.
Eventually, Regulus breaks the kiss, too soon for James’s liking. Slowly, so slowly, he opens his eyes, wary of what he’ll see… and yep, just his luck, Regulus looks cross.
“Alright?” The Slytherin immediately opens his mouth. James, too raw from that experience, quickly adds, “Please don’t be mean.”
Regulus huffs a laugh. “I keep hearing my brother’s voice in my head, saying your name over and over again, and it’s,” he drops his head onto James’s shoulder, “it’s disconcerting.”
Well… that’s not what he expected… oh fuck!
“Act normal!” James hisses, digging his two-way mirror out of his pocket. It’s just started to vibrate aggressively, nearly flying out of his hands… he knew he shouldn’t have asked the shopkeeper for that function, fuck.
Regulus straightens and moves a more socially acceptable distance away, side-eying James with curiosity.
Flipping open the mirror, he sighs internally when he sees his best mate’s irritated face looking back at him. “Hey, Siri -”
“Where the FUCK have you been James Potter?!” Sirius hisses, eyes flashing dangerously. “I’ve been ringing you for ages.”
James nervously runs a hand through his hair. “Uhh -”
Fuck, he’s busted, they’re busted, he shouldn’t have answered without preparing an alibi, Sirius is going to go ballistic when he finds out that James snogged his little brother, he isn’t a good liar! He’s not cut out for this -
“So sorry we missed your summons, brother,” Regulus retorts, ripping the mirror out of James’s hands. “Got into a bit of a quarrel because Potter is an idiot. To make matters worse, we’re in a broom closet, of all the fucking places. Didn’t go well?”
“You’re in a broom closet? With James?!” The Black heir’s eye twitches. “We’ll be discussing that later. And it went okay... Peeves got him, but someone spotted me with Peeves, and he made a ruckus once cornered, but I don’t think anyone else was too close -”
“Where?” Regulus interrupts. “Did someone see you with Peeves?”
“By the library, don’t think so -”
“Where are you now?”
“Sixth floor.”
The Slytherin nods. “Good. Go find a table in the back of the library. Look pissed off, should be very easy for you. I’ve got it covered, see you in ten.”
Sirius sends James a disgruntled glare when the Chaser waves and then cuts the connection off.
“What’s your plan -”
Regulus smirks. “You know whose opinion matters most in this entire school?”
“Uh… Dumbledore?”
Rolling his eyes, Regulus laces their fingers together, pulling him towards the door. “McGonagall.”
James fervently shakes his head. He doesn’t know what the exact plan is, but he’s seen a startling similar wicked grin probably once a week for the last five years. Nothing good ever comes from that.
“Sirius is going to -”
“Not be expelled,” the Slytherin sing-songs. “Thanks to us.”
Pausing at the doorway, Regulus uses his free hand to ruffle the Chaser’s perpetually messy hair, making it even more ruffled than usual. That would be fine, perhaps, if he wasn’t biting his lip in concentration while doing so, something that was probably done on purpose because he somehow knows what it does to James’s concentration.
As such, James isn’t able to formulate a suitable argument by the time Regulus throws open the door to the broom closet. And he doesn’t allow the Gryffindor even a second to react… good thing too, considering James immediately spots a group of professors lingering in the hallway outside of the staffroom, chatting with one another after their meeting.
Spinning him around, Regulus lightly pushes James until his back hits the wall.
“Come on, Potter,” Regulus teases in a sultry voice, looping one arm around James’s waist, the other around his shoulders. “My brother’s likely sent out a search party by now… he knows how long it takes to go from the library to your dorm. And you asking me to accompany you surely didn’t help.”
Ah, so clever, isn’t he?
James makes a show of dropping his book bag to the ground. “Just a bit longer, Reg. Feels like we never get to be alone.”
“Your funeral.”
Their lips connect again, this kiss sweeter, more chaste than earlier, but somehow, ten times more romantic.
It’s nearly enough to drown out the sounds of the scandalized gasps down the hallway.
“MR. POTTER! MR… BLACK?!”
Breaking apart, James sees Professor Slughorn shove his way to the front of the gaggle of teachers to stand next to the Gryffindor Head of House. “Well, well, surely Minerva, can’t come as too much of a surprise! Joined at the hip those two are.”
“Not quite, Horace.”
Regulus… being theatrical must be genetic, James is convinced… uses that moment to turn around.
“REGULUS?!” the Potions professor cries, clutching a hand over his heart. “AND MR. POTTER?! Surely… surely this is a prank, is it not?”
The younger Slytherin lowers his eyes to the floor, looking contrite. “Not a prank, no, but I can … can I count on your discretion?” He raises his head, and James risks a glance to the boy next to him, and yep, there’s those doe-eyes again. “Please, sir. My family, you see… and my brother… neither would take kindly to this, and we’re just, um, getting to know each other.”
The Transfiguration professor snorts, and then covers her mouth, sending them a rare apologetic look. “We are teachers, not gossipers. I can assure you, we won’t feed the grapevine. However, I implore you to ‘get to know’ each other in less… conspicuous places than a broom closet. Or it’ll be points lost and detentions served.”
“Yes, Professor,” they mumble in unison.
“I don’t believe Madam Pomfrey would be happy to hear you’re spending time in the library when you should be resting, Mr. Black.”
“My brother has procured something called a ‘coloring book’,” Regulus explains, scrunching his nose up. “According to him, the Muggles consider it a relaxing activity… as much as I love my room, I think I’m going a bit stir crazy in there.”
“I see,” Professor McGonagall says. “And otherwise, you’re feeling alright?” She looks at him in such a way, James doesn’t get the impression she’s referring to his concussion.
Regulus lets out a long, suffering sigh. “The horrors persist, but so do I.”
Only Slughorn seems perturbed by such a statement; a teacher James doesn’t recognize nods sagely, like she’s never heard truer wisdom.
The Gryffindor Head of House doesn’t hide her amusement this time. “That’s the spirit, Mr. Black.”
Without discussing it, the walk to the library is leisurely, completed at a much slower pace than it should be considering who’s waiting for them.
“Potter,” Regulus murmurs, a respectable amount of space between them. He cannot afford to indulge himself more than he already has; kissing Potter three times is three times more than he ever expected.
The Chaser, previously lost in thought… a hard feat considering his one brain cell… instantly gives the Slytherin his full attention. “Yes?”
He looks wary, like he’s braced for Regulus to say something mean.
Of course, he expects you to be an arse, Regulus thinks bitterly. Didn’t you spend the last half hour insulting him? Surprised he hasn’t stormed off to go tell Sirius about how awful his little brother is.
“To my knowledge, my mother never said that about you,” he says, the words ‘I’m sorry’ sticking in his throat. He’s said them to Potter before, he knows he has, but always insincerely. “In addition, I do not think you’re worthless, or scum, and your face… your face is mildly appealing to look at.”
Potter beams like he just won the lottery. “You think so? I mean, obviously my face is exceptionally appealing, but it’s nice to get your approval, you're a hard one to impress.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Regulus scoffs, tearing his eyes away from said face in question, having unintentionally been focusing on Potter’s lips. “Your ego is so big already, I don’t know how we fit in that broom closet.”
Loath as he is to admit it, entering the library proves that Potter was right earlier - they do draw a lot of attention walking together. More than half of the students they pass stop what they’re doing to gawk at them, several do double takes, and nearly all of them start to whisper fervently to their companions.
Potter shifts closer to him, his shoulders squared, like he’s doing to punch the next person that stares at Regulus the wrong way, which is… oddly comforting, much more than it should be. Eventually, they find Sirius at a table hidden amongst the stacks in an obscure section - Blood Magic (Regulus would a decent number of galleons that the only useful information in those texts amounts to, ‘Blood Magic: not worth the consequences’).
Taking a deep breath, he settles his emotions, tucking them away to think and dwell on later. For now, he has a performance to put on.
“Blood Magic?” Regulus slips into the chair directly across from his brother, one corner of his lip curling disdainfully. Potter takes the seat next to him, like an idiot, instead of sitting by his best mate. “How gauche.”
Sirius’s gaze drops to the clasped hands resting in his lap. “All magic has purpose, it’s the intent behind it that matters.”
Regulus blinks, genuinely taken aback. His brother’s words are their Grandmother’s, usually spoken whenever Sirius gets himself all worked up about their family’s inclination towards Dark Magic. 'Even light spells can be dark, if the intent is to harm,' she’d say, and Sirius would just roll his eyes and grumble to himself. But Blood Magic… well, has Sirius ever shared an opinion on that? Regulus can’t remember, but he knows it’s a branch many in their family warn against, claiming the consequences outweigh the benefits.
“Besides,” Sirius smirks, shaking off his previous demure mood. “No one comes back here.”
“Good, we have a lot to discuss. First and foremost - you have an alibi.”
Sirius’s eyes narrow at his brother’s self-satisfied expression. “I’m not going to like it, though, am I?”
“Assuredly not.”
Potter winces when Sirius stares questionaly at him.
“Alright,” his brother sighs, “let me have it… what did you do?”
Getting straight to the point, after casting several privacy charms, Regulus calmly says, “Potter and I snogged in front of our Heads of House, successfully securing you an alibi in the process. You’re welcome, I will be sending you my Mind Healer bill posthaste.”
It's a rare accomplishment to render Sirius speechless, so Regulus goes onto explain the finer details… not how Potter’s lips feel against his own, or how the older Gryffindor let Regulus take the lead, content with following… but the ones relevant to him, like how they alluded to Sirius waiting for them in the library, Potter 'forgetting' his book bag in his dorm, mentioning Sirius probably sent out a search party for them, etc.
“You were mistaken, I don’t dislike it,” Sirius bellows, standing up so quickly that his chair crashes to the ground, “I hate it! Did you think about the consequences?” Honestly? No. Potter’s panic was contagious, the idea of his brother getting expelled, all of it being Regulus’s fault. So, he went with the first plan he thought of, the one that gave him something in return, because he would always be a Slytherin at heart. “Regulus, it’s one thing to snog Evan under enchanted mistletoe, or behind closed bed curtains.” Wait, how does he know about the latter?! “But what will Mother and Father say when they read their letter from ole’ Sluggy tomorrow and find out you’re snogging a Potter? I suppose I appreciate the sentiment,” it sounds like he does not, “but this went way too far!” He suddenly turns to Potter, who looks like he’s seconds away from throwing himself at Sirius’s feet, begging for forgiveness. “How could you let him do this?!”
Oh splendid, that dreadful look goes away. “I don’t let Regulus do anything, what the fuck, Sirius!”
Sirius rolls his eyes. “You could have put your foot down! There’s this little word I like to use, my favorite if you will, and it goes like this - NO.”
They shout back and forth at each other, until Regulus can no longer take it. “Stop yelling at Potter, it’s not his fault!” Both Gryffindors finally shut up, if only to gape at him. “I did so enough for the both of us earlier.” He lifts his nose in the air. “Besides, it’s already done, unless you possess a time-turner I’m not aware of?”
Merlin, please say no…
Apparently, the best way to distract Sirius is to provide him ample opportunity to tease his brother for his atrocious social skills. “Aww, Reggie, were you mean to James?”
Understatement of the fucking century.
“Oopsie.”
Notes:
Three kisses in one chapter?! I wonder if we'll get more in the near future ;)
The 'stopping a panic attack by kissing someone' is actually a concept I got from the Teen Wolf show, lmaooo. Does it work? No idea, but maybe!
Hope everyone has a safe and happy New Year!!
Chapter 15: All I Fear Is...
Notes:
Sorry for the longer wait than usual, but life has been chaotic lately, ugh. But here's an action-packed chapter to make up for it, where we learn how the revenge against Smith goes, plus some Black cousin silliness, drama with James, and Regulus gets a little something extra for his troubles ;)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The horrors persist, but so do I.
Regulus isn’t sure why he decided to blurt that out in front of his professors last night, but Merlin, has he ever said anything so accurate? Will he ever be granted one blissful day of peace? Or is he cursed to a lifetime of torment and misery, a lifetime of experiencing, for the briefest of moments, what he could have but will never get, a lifetime of eternal solitude, of knowing precisely what he’s missing out on, a lifetime of watching others get what he wishes to be his and only his?
Morning, per usual, comes much too early for Regulus’s liking. For the second time since Sirius appeared in the Slytherin dorms, Regulus struggled to fall asleep. This time, though, it wasn’t due to his brother’s indecipherable mumblings, but rather, his own rumination. What was he thinking last night, snogging Potter like that... multiple times?! Regulus could have crafted another alibi for his brother, he could have gotten Potter to shut up without smashing their lips together, he could have done so many things differently - but he did not. So, now he’ll suffer the repercussions of his actions, including but not limited to; being forced to continue his life with the knowledge of what Potter’s lips feel like against his own, the knowledge that Potter prefers to cup Regulus’s cheek with one hand, while resting the other on his waist, the knowledge that Potter’s perfectly content with letting Regulus set the pace, perfectly content to relinquish control...
... the knowledge that he’ll never snog Potter again, will probably be forced to witness or hear about Potter snogging someone else, a girl no less.
Perhaps, ignorance is bliss…
Worse, Sirius refuses to hear any argument that Regulus should be allowed to skip breakfast, putting an end to his whinging with a firm, ‘Don’t you want to see the potion’s effect on Smith?’ If Regulus were a better person, he’d say, 'No, I’d rather sleep in, thanks', but he’s not a better person, and the need to see Smith in distress outweighs his desire to avoid Potter at all possible costs. So, he drags himself from the gloriousness that is his bed, and reluctantly starts preparing himself for another day of respite. If he takes a few extra minutes to style his hair... no one has to know.
Unfortunately, his planned day of ‘rest’ goes out the window a mere ten minutes later. While waiting for Sirius to finish admiring his own reflection, Regulus happens to glance over at the schedule pinned above his desk; he nearly falls over when he sees ‘Double Potions’ under ‘Arithmancy’ on Thursday morning, the day his lessons resume.
If there’s one subject Regulus is awful at, it’s Potions.
Okay… he’s not awful, but that’s only because he’s diligent about studying the chapters ahead of time, brewing the potion a day or two before the lesson as practice, taking meticulous notes during class, and routinely revising the covered potions throughout the rest of the year. Without all of that preparation? Regulus would be ranked last, there's no doubt about it.
At the end of his first year, he earned a passing grade in Potions... by the skin of his teeth. In terms of standings, Regulus was ranked somewhere in the middle of his peers, the shame of which nearly killed him. Despite ranking the highest in his year in four of his classes (History of Magic, Astronomy, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts) and within the top three in the other two (Charms and Transfiguration), his parents lectured him off and on all summer for his ‘dismal’ performance in school. Sirius, who in two years at Hogwarts had already earned dozens of detentions for his deplorable behavior, received perfect grades and was commended for his achievement (Regulus took a small amount of comfort in the fact that his brother did share the top ranking in some classes; Severus Snape in Potions, Lily Evans in Charms, and Potter in Transfiguration).
Regulus vowed to do better.
In the beginning of his second year, he studied harder than ever, focusing a majority of his efforts on his Potions work. Fortunately, his other grades remained high, but his Potions score only improved marginally. By the end of the first term, Regulus accepted he needed to do something different; a tutor was the next logical step, but the thought of approaching Severus, who was well known in Slytherin for assisting other snakes in exchange for payment, stressed him out almost as much as his barely-above-average grade. He’d never spoken to the older Slytherin - Severus had glared daggers at him during his first few months at Hogwarts - but as time went on, the older boy must have (finally) realized Regulus didn’t hold the same grudge against him that Sirius did. But indifference didn’t mean Severus was open to helping him, so Regulus approached cautiously, willing to offer something else in addition to money if his tutelage proved useful… which it was, thank Merlin.
A private person in general, Regulus has kept this particular information exceptionally close to his chest, like a mother dragon guarding her clutch of eggs. Only four people are aware of his chronic difficulty in Potions; Evan and Barty, because the embarrassment of being subpar was preferable compared to the relentless anxiety of hiding something from the two people he spends the most time with, Pandora because she’s uncannily perceptive, and Severus Snape, his tutor. Before attending Hogwarts, Regulus and Sirius studied the basics of Potions and assisted their tutors in brewing, both things the younger did well enough at… he’s not sure what it is about brewing on his own, but it’s like he forgets everything he’s ever learned the moment his potion turns a shade off from what it should be. But that also means Sirius has no inkling of Regulus's struggles in the subject, only that his grades have improved drastically since his first year. In all honesty, Regulus would rather pick a fight with Lupin and suffer another ten concussions than tell his brother that, one, he’s pants at Potions, an area every Black before him had excelled at, and two, Severus Snape, Sirius’s arch nemesis, is the only reason he’s near the top of his class in the subject.
With only two days before his next Potions class, Regulus needs to arrange a practice session with Severus as soon as possible. Usually, they’re scheduled a week in advance, but between Sirius's presence, the drama with Lupin (and Smith), and whatever the fuck is going on with Potter, Regulus completely forgot. He lucked out during his last lesson - they brewed a potion they’d done last year, so he managed to scrape by, but Regulus isn't naïve enough to think that same good fortune will hold.
But how the fuck is he going to keep Sirius Orion Black, the nosiest git in the world, in the dark about his Chronic Potions Problem when he’s basically moved into the Slytherin dorms?
The walk to breakfast is quiet, at least on Regulus’s part. Sirius spends the short trek huddled close with Narcissa and Andromeda, filling the girls in on what happened last night… sans the whole bit about Regulus and Potter snogging, bless. Eyes drifting towards the Grand Staircase, Regulus unconsciously drops a few paces behind his family, searching for a familiar face; his breath hitches when he finds who he’s looking for. Their gazes connect immediately, unencumbered by the distance and the sea of people surrounding them. Potter lifts his hand like he’s about to wave, but then awkwardly lowers it, his skin flushing crimson. Ducking his head, the Gryffindor hurries down the rest of the stairs and scampers into the Great Hall, not even pausing to greet his best mate.
Embarrassed to be seen with you, no doubt. Rumors are sure to be flying about you two possibly being an item. Teachers are the worst gossips in the school, everyone knows that! Now, he’ll have people constantly questioning his sexuality, all because you couldn’t think of a plan to save your brother that wasn’t inherently self-serving. You don’t deserve anyone, let alone someone as good and righteous as James Potter.
Pettigrew follows Potter through the double doors, but Lupin stops in the path of the four Blacks.
“Sorry about James.” Sirius shares a commiserating eye-roll with the other Gryffindor... until he remembers they’re not on good terms, and his scowl returns. “I’ll talk to him, but you know he gets in his head after,” Lupin makes some sort of complicated hand gesture, though it’s more akin to a muscle spasm, in Regulus’s opinion, “those sorts of things.”
'Those sorts of things'... did Potter tell him about our frivolous dalliance? Or is he referring to our retaliation against Smith?
After saying his piece, Lupin walks away, not allowing Sirius the chance to gather his wits and tell him off… but before he leaves, his gaze lands on the youngest Black for the briefest of moments; his expression is unreadable, but it leaves Regulus with the distinct impression that he's being assessed.
“Are you in the midst of a fight with Potter now too, cousin?” Narcissa asks, exchanging an exasperated look with her sister.
“Not yet,” Sirius growls, fists clenching and unclenching at his side. “But we’re about to be.”
He tries to stalk off after his friend, but Andromeda grabs the back of his robes. She doesn’t get an opportunity to reprimand him, however, because Smith’s voice suddenly echoes through the Entrance Hall. As if sharing one mind, the four Blacks swivel towards the sound, and they watch silently as he emerges from the side corridor that leads to the Hufflepuff Common Room.
“I know what I saw, Maryse!” the blonde snaps to his companion, a young girl with pigtails who bears a striking resemblance to him. “You don’t understand, you don’t know what they’re -”
“Morning, Smith,” Sirius calls brightly with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Sleep well?”
Head jerking up at the greeting, Smith twitches, his eyes darting frantically around the area like he's looking for an escape. “What are you… I know what you lot are playing at! But you won’t win, Black, I won’t let you.”
“Oh, sweetheart, you have such beautiful hair!” Andromeda compliments Maryse, her voice sugary sweet. “I absolutely adore your braids… did you do them yourself?”
Maryse beams, looking like she received the highest level of praise in the entire world. “Thank you, Miss Andromeda, that’s so kind of you to say, especially when your hair is as perfect as the rest of you!” Sirius covers his gleeful burst of laughter with a cough. “My daddy taught me how to do them on my own actually, after Mum got sick -”
“Leave her be!” Smith growls, grabbing his sister’s arm; she shakes him off with an offended squawk. “She’s just a little girl -”
“I am not!” she cries, stamping her foot. “I’m about to be twelve -”
Sirius’s lip curls. “My brother is barely fourteen, Smith, but that didn’t bother you-”
“Oh?” The first year’s adoration moves from Andromeda to Regulus, who nearly flinches backwards from the unexpected turn of events. “Hi! I’m Maryse... it’s really nice to meet you.”
Well… in for a Knut, in for a Bezant.
Raising his gaze to meet hers, he gently presses his lips to the top of her hand. “Enchanté, Maryse. Je m’appelle Regulus.”
“No!” Ignoring the younger girl’s protests, Smith picks his sister up and throws her over his shoulder, striding towards the doors of the Great Hall without a backwards glance; Maryse lifts her hand in a cheeky salute that Regulus returns with genuine amusement.
“Hope you and your sister have a great day, mate!” Sirius sing-songs at the Hufflepuff’s retreating form.
“Hope you, your brother, and your cousins have a great day, mate!” Maryse chirps before the doors close behind her.
Narcissa lets out the laugh she’s been holding in for the last few minutes. “She’s actually delightful.”
“Shame she’s related to such a pillock,” Andromeda muses. "But we don’t get to choose our family.”
“If only we could.” Narcissa side-eyes Sirius, who stiffens at the implication of her words. "It would make life so much easier."
“Like I would choose -"
“I mean, at least she’s not related to someone whose split ends can be seen from across the castle.”
Why me, Regulus groans internally, wishing he fought harder to remain in bed.
“I DO NOT HAVE SPLIT ENDS, HOW DARE YOU SLANDER ME WITH SUCH VILE FALSEHOODS -"
Refusing to let his routine be disrupted, Regulus takes his customary place on the bench. Saint Potter, however, decides to forgo normalcy, choosing to sit with his back to the Slytherin table; hunched over his plate, he occasionally nods to whatever an animated Lupin says next to him, piquing Regulus's curiosity. Andromeda leaves halfway through breakfast to ‘run to the library’, abandoning them with a sullen Gryffindor for company.
“I’ve got a galleon on Andie going to meet her Puff,” Regulus remarks in a halfhearted attempt to distract himself from obsessing over what Lupin might be saying and shake his brother free from his brooding. “Maybe even in the library, but he’s definitely the reason she left.”
A smirk blossoms across their cousin’s face, one that grows wider when Sirius cries out, “No, Reggie, not you, too!”
“You might be right,” Narcissa hums, scanning the Hufflepuff table. “I don’t -”
Behind them, someone clears their throat.
“Er, hi?” Ted Tonks mutters when they whip around to gape at him. Merlin, who knew badgers were so sneaky?! At least Regulus isn’t the only Black who’s been taken by surprise by a Hufflepuff. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you all.”
Sirius eyes the older boy in front of them with visible distrust. “Andromeda isn’t here, sorry.” His attempt to return to his breakfast is thwarted by Narcissa’s elbow being sharply jabbed into his side. “Blimey, are you sure you want to hang around a Lady-Black, mate? From personal experience, I can tell you it’s not all it’s cracked up to be… hit me one more time, Cissa, I swear … oh, it’s on!”
With a resigned sigh, Regulus scoots down a few seats in a bid to avoid becoming collateral damage in their childish tussle (one that involves a lot of nails digging into exposed skin, leg slapping, barbed comments, and bared teeth).
“I don’t know them,” Regulus says in response to Tonks’s alarmed expression. “Though, I suppose you didn’t come all the way down here just to say ‘hi’?”
Tonks wearily rubs a hand across his face. “Don’t really know how to put this any differently, but Alaric Smith is going around claiming you were in his dorm at the crack of dawn this morning. Woke up his roommates with his shouting, along with half our house.”
Sirius and Narcissa perk up at the explanation, their fight long forgotten. They whisper back and forth to each other in rapid French, too soft for Regulus to hear.
“And you believe him?” Sirius asks in a louder, clipped tone. Narcissa’s darkened expression mimics his, the same storm whirling in her eyes; Regulus has always found it comical how similar they can be at times. “Here to warn Reg to stay away from your mate?”
“Going to report him to the Headmaster?” Narcissa adds icily.
Wrinkling his nose, Tonks shakes his head, unaffected by their churlishness. “Smith isn’t a mate, nor do I believe any of you snuck into our dorm. It’s impossible to get into Hufflepuff unless you are a Hufflepuff.” Sirius heaves a forlorn sigh, indicating this is likely a true statement and not just badger arrogance… guess it’s a good thing their plan didn’t involve breaking and entering.
“We appreciate the information,” Narcissa remarks sincerely, her expression morphing into something polite and well-mannered, more suitable for someone of her pedigree. “It’s truly a pleasure to meet you after all this time.”
They wait until Andromeda’s paramour is far enough away before huddling close together.
“What are the chances!” the blonde squeals quietly, all three of them unable to contain their maniacal grins. “This is so much better than giant spiders.”
“I fucking warned him about this, too!” Regulus whispers viciously. “Oh, how I wish we could do this every few weeks -”
“We won't need to,” Sirius wisely points out. “The fear will compound over the next week or so, and before you know it, he’ll start thinking he sees you around every corner, regardless of the potion’s influence." He wiggles his fingers in front of Regulus’s face. "You owe me a galleon, by the way. Pay up, little brother.”
The wondrous reveal at breakfast doesn’t solve Regulus’s current dilemma, unfortunately. After they finish eating, Sirius departs for Double Care of Magical Creatures, allowing Regulus enough time to devise a plan of action, read the next chapter in his Potions book, bask in the glorious feeling of Smith’s greatest fear being Regulus himself, ignore thinking about how he mucked everything up with Potter, and then take a nap to stave off the headache blossoming behind his temples.
He’s an awful brother, he knows, but Regulus is relieved when Sirius returns from his morning lessons in a surly mood. Apparently, Lupin was courteous enough to leave him alone during class, but it didn’t stop some of the Gryffindor girls from hounding him with questions about why the two close friends were on the outs, ‘Haven’t you two kissed and made up, yet? It’s been ages, I didn’t know you could survive being apart this long.’ Sirius refused to discuss it with them, and although they lacked any knowledge of the situation whatsoever, they insisted he ‘swallow his pride’ and apologize to Lupin… because Sirius must be in the wrong here, how presumptuous of them. Lupin himself intervened at that point, lecturing them until they stormed off in a tizzy, likely preventing one of Sirius’s infamous meltdowns in the process. Worse, Potter continued to avoid Sirius, using Lupin as a shield to keep his 'best friend' at bay, and when that wasn’t an option, hiding behind Lily Evans of all people (again, Regulus is an awful brother… it was mollifying to know he wasn’t the only Black that Potter was brushing off).
Sirius tends to be very self-absorbed… or rather, more self-absorbed than usual… when he’s miffed about something, meaning he’s much less likely to notice what’s going on around him. It's an attribute Regulus hopes to benefit from today.
Guiding Sirius to the Slytherin table for lunch, Regulus takes the seat next to Severus, his brother on his left... of fucking course, trying to pass Severus the note he wrote earlier doesn’t go as smoothly as he envisioned. Not two minutes after they sit down, right as Regulus is about to reach for Severus’s hand, someone behind them clears their throat, obnoxiously loud.
Flinching from the sudden sound, he accidentally bumps into the older Slytherin. “Sorry,” Regulus mutters, embarrassed. "Didn't mean to knock into you like that." He should slip him the note now while everyone is distracted, but he’s shamelessly nosey.
“McKinnon,” Sirius greets his yearmate, the younger sister of the McKinnon that Regulus knows.
She wiggles her way in between the brothers, nearly sitting on Regulus’s lap until he scoots closer to Severus, her back resting against the table.
Flashing Regulus a charming smile, she gently pats his cheek with a, “Hey, cutie,” before turning back to Sirius with an exaggerated pout. “I’m sorry for earlier, love, I didn’t intend for the girls to mob you like that. I just worry about you, you know how I get.” She flutters her eyelashes. “Could you ever find it in your black heart to forgive me?”
Shockingly, Sirius doesn’t play up the drama. “‘Course I can, Marls -”
“I miss you ever so much,” she sniffs, pressing a firm kiss on his cheek with a loud ‘mwah’. “Nobody gets me quite like you do.”
“... if you do me a favor."
Marlene, if Regulus remembers her name correctly, scoffs. “Boys, ugh.” Sirius leans over to whisper something into her ear, and a smile slowly widens across her face the longer his explanation goes on. “That’s my expertise… you can count on me, Starboy.”
Now that Sirius is focused on watching his Gryffindor gal pal flounce back to their house table, Regulus seizes the opportunity to move forward in his mission. Touching Severus’s knee to get his attention may not have been the wisest course of action - his tutor startles so extensively at the contact, he earns himself a worried look from Evans sitting on his other side. It inspires Regulus to politely request she pass the pitcher of pumpkin juice, the one that just so happens to be a bit further down the table and to her right. With her now distracted too, he subtly pushes the parchment against Severus’s hand until he finally takes the hint. The older Slytherin waits until Evans departs for her long trek to Divination before reading it, and although it’s a wise course of action, the lack of immediate answer makes Regulus want to scream. Eventually, just when Regulus thinks he might literally die from the suspense, Severus catches his eye and inclines his head in acknowledgement, much to his relief.
Minutes later, Regulus notices the dwindling number of students remaining in the hall. “Are you cutting class?” he asks his brother.
Sirius half shrugs, eyes fixated on the Gryffindor table, where Potter and Lady-McKinnon are in an impassioned discussion… though it’s mostly one sided, as Potter seems to be on a spirited rant, while she listens with an amused grin. “Got something to take care of first. You should go back to the dorm.”
Ha! As if he would ever miss whatever is about to happen next.
“I’m not done with my meal,” Regulus argues, pouring himself a third cup of steaming coffee to accentuate his point.
Just as he’s finished preparing it exactly the way he likes, his brother grabs his arm and tugs him off the bench. “Actually, we are both finished, let’s go.”
Sirius leads him to the doors, his steps quiet and quick, gaze focused straight ahead. When Regulus looks around the hall (after a longing, mournful glance back at his coffee), he realizes only the Gryffindor table is occupied, with two familiar fifth-years.
They don’t go farther than the Entrance Hall, sticking to the shadows casted by the giant hourglasses of House Points.
“Go back to your dorm, Regulus,” Sirius orders, voice devoid of emotion.
The Slytherin crosses his arms over his chest. “If you’re going to pick a fight with Potter, then I’m going to -”
“Watch?”
“Be there to have your back,” Regulus finishes with a huff. “And ensure my brainless oaf of a brother doesn’t get caught… you remember what McGonagall said, surely?”
Sirius returns to his pacing, but Regulus catches his lips quirking up in the corners. “Yeah, yeah.”
“I’m telling you, Marlene!” Potter’s peeved voice echoes into the hall before the giant double doors even open. “Captain Wiz and the Winter Auror aren't enemies, nor are they ‘just friends’.” That's what’s gotten him so fired up?! A debate about two superhero characters in a magical comic book series? “There’s so much underlying romantic tension, I don’t understand how anyone couldn’t -” When Sirius steps out of the shadows, Potter squeaks, then abruptly stops talking.
Lady-McKinnon amicably pats Potter on the shoulder. “I agree, they’re totally male-husbands.”
“But… but you said -”
“I lied.” Leaving the speechless Chaser in her wake, she approaches Sirius with a smug grin. “He’s all yours, starlight of my life.”
“Thanks, mon amour, you’re a doll.”
Potter tries to slink away while his yearmates are engaged in some bizarre parting ritual involving a complex handshake and a series of cheek kisses, but Regulus puts an end to the pitiful escape attempt by stepping directly into his path.
“Oh!” His cheeks quickly match the scarlet coloring on his tie. “Hi, Reg… um, very sorry, can’t chat, gotta get to class, heh.”
Before Regulus can even blink, Sirius has Potter shoved against the nearest wall, one hand bunched in his robes to hold him in place, the other gripping tightly to his wand.
“I’m sure she’s already Seen it, but I’ll let Professor Shaede know you two are running late,” Lady-McKinnon calls over her shoulder. “Play nicely, boys!” She winks at the Slytherin. "Nice meeting you, Regulus." He politely offers her a small smile and a wave.
“Hey, mate,” Potter greets brightly, going a little cross-eyed looking at the wand aimed at his face. “Good day so far?”
Sirius bares his teeth. “Cut the crap, Potter, and listen to me very carefully.”
“Ah, nostalgia,” the Chaser sighs wistfully, readjusting his glasses. “It’s like third year all over again! My only request is that you don’t bite me this time.” Sirius growls low in his throat, prompting Potter to sigh again. “Sorry sorry, please continue.”
“I will NOT tolerate you treating Regulus like you treated me in third year, when you avoided me for a fucking month -”
Wait, what?! Hearing they’ve quarreled before isn’t the shocking part - it’s Sirius, after all - but they seem too codependent to stay apart for more than a day or so.
“Most of that month was during the holiday break,” Potter interrupts with a frown, “so really, that’s not a fair accusation.”
Sirius continues like he doesn’t hear him. “... while you figured out whatever mess was going on in your head, a month where I spent every day absolutely hating myself because you snogged me and then acted like it was the worst thing in the world could ever have happened to you -”
So that’s why Sirius crashed Regulus’s trip to France with the Rosier’s a few years ago?! His brother was supposed to be spending the last part of the Winter hols at the Potter’s, their parents reluctantly granting permission after a tense negotiation that resulted in Sirius accompanying them to every Winter Gala, Luncheon, Brunch, and Ball imaginable during the two weeks he was at Grimmauld Place. Sullen, unargumentative, and uncharacteristically quiet throughout the first portion of break, Sirius blindsided them on Christmas Eve when he petitioned Father to forbid Regulus from attending the Rosier’s winter ski trip unless accompanied by a chaperone… to which he honorably volunteered his services - Regulus’s vehement opposition to this proposal was ignored. Overjoyed that his eldest son wouldn’t be consorting with ‘blood traitors’ for the New Year, Father accepted without question and personally arranged the specifics with Madame Rosier. In the end, Sirius joining them wasn’t as awful as Regulus believed it would be, but it’s satisfying to finally understand why he insisted on going.
With a distressed whimper, Potter lives up to Regulus’s belief that he’s secretly a badger in lion’s clothing, enveloping Sirius in a hug so tight, they can hear his bones crack. “I never meant to make you feel that way, I’m so sorry, Siri.”
“That is not my point, James.”
“Your point doesn’t make sense, because I wasn’t avoiding him.” Sounding aghast by the accusation, Potter’s gaze is imploring when he meets the gray eyes of the boy in question. “I swear, I wasn’t ignoring you, Regulus!… oh wow, you two really do look like twins when you glare like that, huh, that’s interesting.”
Regulus examines his fingernails. “You were avoiding me? I didn’t notice.”
“Well, I fucking did!” Sirius shrieks. “So James, explain what happened this morning then!”
Potter nervously runs a hand through his hair. “Uh… well, mate, thought it was obvious, but… I was avoiding you.”
Sirius tilts his head to the side like a dog who got scolded for barking at an owl delivering the post. “Pardon?”
“Should we form a ‘Revelations Circle?’” Regulus quips in an attempt to hide his relief at the confession. Merlin, he really is the worst, isn't he?
Potter, the dunce, tries to sit down until Sirius grabs his elbow. “He’s joking.”
“As was I,” the Gryffindor lies with a half-hearted chuckle. He doesn't say anything else.
"James, why are you avoiding me?"
“Well, umm, you see… I know we parted on okay terms last night, but… heh… you never actually said whether or not you were alright with the whole, you know -”
“You snogging my little brother, and pretending to be romantically involved with him in front of our Heads of Houses?” Sirius finishes.
Potter flinches. “Mmm, yeah that. And you know how sometimes something seems alright, but then when you’re away from the situation, you can actually process it, and maybe you realize that, hey, this isn’t okay, and in fact,” his hands wave wildly in the air as he talks, “I hate everything about it! I assumed that would be the case after everything that happened last night, so in my head, I was like, hey, Sirius can’t yell at me and end our friendship if he doesn’t get a chance to talk to me -”
“Why would I end our friendship?” Sirius asks, eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline as he watches his friend teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown. “Did something else happen?”
Scuffing his shoe across the floor, Potter meekly mutters, “As an only child, perhaps I am mistaken, but a bloke’s best mate snogging said mate’s prized younger brother seems like an unforgivable offense, does it not? Especially without said mate’s prior approval.”
“It’s certainly no worse than said younger brother snogging his sibling's revered, cherished best mate.” Yeah, give Sirius more valid reasons to hate you, great going, Regulus! “And way to make me sound like a show pony, Potter!”
The Chaser rolls his eyes. “My offense was WAY worse! Why would Sirius care if his little brother snogged his friend?”
Because he fucking worships you, and barely tolerates me?
“He wouldn’t!” Sirius interrupts, stepping between the two. Regulus didn’t even notice he was moving closer to Potter during their spat. “He doesn’t.”
Potter peaks around Sirius’s shoulder to smirk at him. “HA! Told you so, Baby Black.”
Regulus makes a skeptical noise, calling bollocks without saying a word. Sirius glares, but begrudgingly adds, “Okay, so he’s pretty weirded out over the whole thing, but - “
The Chaser’s good mood evaporates. “Oh Merlin, you hate me, don’t you? I am so sorry, Siri, I promise I’ll never -”
Sirius smacks a hand over his friend’s mouth, cutting off whatever promise he was about to make. “James, there’s only room for one overthinker in the Marauders, and it’s Moony, not you.” Regulus scoffs aloud at the ridiculous nicknames his brother and his friends use for themselves, the pretentious buggers. “And I’m the one with the propensity to blow situations way out of proportion… why are you harping on this? I say this with love, mate, but you’re acting kind of crazy.”
“Potter’s entitled to his feelings, brother!” Regulus snaps, something hot and fiery unfurling in his chest upon witnessing how Potter curls in on himself at Sirius’s admonishment. “As his friend, you shouldn’t invalidate those feelings, nor should you belittle and shame him for being concerned about how you might respond to something, especially since as you yourself have mentioned, you are infamous for overreacting and inciting drama in the most innocuous of situations!”
The two Gryffindors gape at him like he’s grown three heads, wings, and started speaking Mermish; pride is the only thing that keeps Regulus from lowering his gaze.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be a prick,” Sirius eventually says. “And yes, I was peeved about it at first, but so long as Sluggy and whoever else was there keep their mouths shut,” his expression is reminiscent of someone who's just taken a Bludger to the stomach, “it was actually a clever plot, and undoubtedly one we can continue to benefit from.”
“Really?” Potter asks tentatively.
Regulus shares his reservations, but outwardly projects an aura of triumph, as that would be what his brother would expect.
Sirius amicably claps the Chaser on the shoulder. “Yes, really! I mean… it’s not like you’re going around snogging my brother behind my back, or hanging around him with dishonest, impure intentions, right? Because that would be another story entirely.”
Potter’s grimace is obvious. Regulus internally panics when it becomes evident that he's made up his mind about something, causing him to blurt out, “That goes both ways you know, brother.”
It takes both a moment to catch on, but then Sirius huffs, “Evan’s virtue is safe with me, Reggie,” right as Potter mumbles, “Don’t think you have anything to worry about there.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, mate?”
“I just… um, I’m sorry, but I don’t think Rosier likes you very much… or you know…" Potter winces, looking apologetic, "at all.”
“HA! That’s a good one!” Sirius’s laughter fades when he sees his friend's earnest expression. “Oh, you’re not joking?” It’s borderline impossible to not outwardly react to Potter’s ridiculous claim, but Regulus’s loyalty to his best mate means he must overcome this challenge - failure is not an option. “Look, Jamie... Evan Rosier has been a wee bit in love with me since -”
“Forever,” Regulus replies when his brother glances over at him… wait, damnit!
His brother nods like that’s the answer he expected. “But his undying devotion to Reg means sometimes he despises me, which is understandable.”
Dear Merlin, does Sirius have a flair for drama! “He’s never despised you -”
“Gentleman!” a stern voice calls from above, causing Sirius and Potter to exchange an ‘oh fuck’ look. “Can you please explain to me why you are loitering in the Entrance Hall, when two of you should be across the castle in Divination right now, and the third should be in his dorm, resting, as ordered by Madam Pomfrey?”
“I’ve got this,” Sirius quietly informs them. Louder, so Professor McGonagall can hear, he says, “Professor! Apologies, we lost track of time while discussing an interpersonal dispute like adults, rather than engaging in undignified brawls -”
He awkwardly trails off when the Deputy Headmistress holds a hand up. “I commend you for discussing your problems like the mature, intelligent students I know you are deep down, Mr. Black. But you and Mr. Potter need to get to class now, or I will be adding additional detentions to the ones you’ve yet to serve.”
Sirius harrumphs at her underhanded compliment but heeds her warning, though not before hugging his brother goodbye. “Take at least one nap this afternoon, please and thank you.” Knowing Regulus can’t retaliate under the watchful eye of Professor McGonagall, he boops the younger’s nose before sauntering away.
Determined to have the last word, Regulus counters with, “Don’t tell me what to do.”
Still, he’s tempted to draw his wand when Sirius pretends like he’s scratching his back, only to flip Regulus the bird, the action hidden from his Head of House’s view. But then a hand brushes against his own, and Regulus looks up, surprised to find Potter still lingering in the Entrance Hall with him.
“You’ll take a nap this afternoon, yeah?” the Chaser whispers, standing closer than social norms would deem appropriate. “Gotta make sure your brain heals up properly.”
“I’ll think about it.” Common sense wins against his own personal desires, leading him to add, “You should go… Professor McGonagall doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
“Is she watching?” Regulus inclines his head in affirmation… she’s not taken her eyes off of them. “Is your brother?”
“No.”
Making his way up the steps at a leisurely pace, Sirius is loudly bitching about, ‘Who’s bloody idea was it to put a school in a giant castle? Can’t we get the house elves to Apparate us around? Professor Minnie, it’s so far away, I don’t wanna go! I’m going to start a petition to make Divination on the fourth floor or something. Actually, on that note, why do we have so many empty classrooms, yet lessons are spread all over the place?’
“May I? You know, for appearances and all.” Potter doesn’t explain what he’s asking, but then again, does he really need to?
Heart in his throat, Regulus hums in confirmation. He’ll take what he can get, loath as he is to admit that to himself. Potter leans forward, eyes bright behind his glasses, and Regulus tenses in anticipation… he’s left with a sinking sense of disappointment when lips graze his cheek for the shortest of seconds.
Squeezing his hand one last time before letting go, Potter spins on his heel to follow after his friend. A second passes, and then another, and right as Regulus is about to begin his own trek to the Slytherin Dungeons, suddenly, Potter swivels back around, lurching forward to grab his cheeks and press their lips together in a proper goodbye kiss. Normally, the Chaser’s little self-satisfied smile would irk Regulus, but truthfully, he’s too stunned to care right now… did that really happen? Or is his daydreaming getting out of control?
“Mr. Black, stop dawdling!” McGonagall snaps, nearly giving Regulus a heart attack in the process. “I assure you, Mr. Potter is right behind you. Now, pick up the pace boys, Quidditch season is starting soon, and I know you both are in better shape than this.”
“Shit.” Potter pecks Regulus on the lips one last time, and with a wink, leaves the younger teen in a metaphorical pile of goo with a nonchalant, “Sleep well, beautiful, I hope you dream of me.”
Nightmares, he certainly meant nightmares.
The rest of the school day passes in a blur; Regulus actually does take a long, dreamless nap right when he gets back to the dorm, spending the rest of his free time reviewing his Potions textbook in preparation for his tutoring with Severus tonight. Potter joins them at the Slytherin table for dinner, wedging himself between the Black brothers. He allots Regulus absolutely zero personal space, sitting obnoxiously close to him but a normal distance away from Sirius. Legs pressed firmly together, shoulders a hairbreadth apart, the younger teen is too prideful (and too weak) to scoot down - Regulus would rather die than allow Potter the satisfaction of knowing he made him uncomfortable. The impersonal physical contact may have been tolerable if that’s all it was, but per usual, Potter takes it a step further; once their plates are loaded with food, he entwines their fingers together under the table, their joined hands safely hidden from observers… which is peculiar, but maybe he’s just practicing so they’re more believable in front of their professors? Potter’s thumb then starts to trace light, soothing circles across his skin, leading Regulus to unintentionally gasp mid-bite and nearly choke to death. The Chaser tries to pull away, but Regulus tightens his grip. He only needs one hand to chug his water, alright?
“Did you hurt your hand?” Evan asks out of nowhere halfway through the meal.
“Me?” Potter questions with genuine confusion. “No, it’s fine. Why?” He doesn’t let go of Regulus’s hand to prove his point… why that sends a little thrill through him, the Slytherin will never understand.
Because you’re weak and desperate for even the most basic of affections, it’s pathetic.
“Your right hand is your wand hand, is it not?” Barty asks, staring unblinkingly at Potter.
“Correct,” Potter drawls, staring right back at the Slytherin. “Again, this is relevant, why?”
Watching Regulus with an indecipherable expression, Evan says, “One’s wand hand is generally their dominant hand, so we just find it rather curious that you're using your left hand to eat, that’s all.”
Now, Potter does let go of Regulus’s hand… disappointing, but it’s for the best, as their interrogation has gained Sirius’s attention, great.
“The best duelers use both hands equally,” Sirius responds haughtily. “Though, I suppose I shouldn’t fault you for not knowing that, since none of your relatives are five-time World Dueling Champions.”
Whether it was intentional or not, Sirius’s statement shifts Evan and Barty’s attention to himself, to which Regulus is immensely grateful. He’s sure they’ll corner him at some point in the future to ask whatever it is that they’re hinting at, they clearly know something is up with him and Potter… but it’s a conversation Regulus will happily avoid for as long as possible.
When they’re finished eating, Potter turns to Regulus and quietly asks, “Do you want to go outside for a bit? We can walk around the lake or something.”
But he wasn’t quiet enough. “That sounds like a splendid idea, James!” Sirius drapes his arm around his fellow Gryffindor with a wide grin. “Ready whenever you are.”
Potter’s still facing the younger Slytherin, so Sirius doesn’t see his grimace, but Regulus sure does… along with Barty and Evan, who are sitting across from them.
“You two have fun,” Regulus responds, trying to hide his giddiness. Sure, he’s disappointed he can’t go on a stroll around the lake with Potter… that sounds so romantic, his treacherous mind whispers… but at least it’ll get Sirius out of his room. “I’m going to lay down for a bit, my head hurts.”
Salazar, he should have picked a better lie! His brother reacts like he said his brain was seconds from exploding. Immediately bailing on Potter, Sirius plasters himself to the younger’s side, clinging to him like he thinks Regulus will snuff it if he gets more than an inch of space. He's supposed to meet Severus at seven in their usual spot, an unused classroom in the dungeons, but now Regulus is left with trying to figure out how to slip away from his room without rousing his brother’s suspicions.
“I think either the lights in the Great Hall or all the sounds were bothering me,” Regulus fibs when Sirius tries to shoo him into bed ten minutes later. “I feel better now.”
Sirius places his hands on his hips like a disappointed teacher. “Brother, if you didn’t want to go outside… or hang out with James… you could have just said so! No need to lie to spare someone’s feelings.”
Regulus leaps at the perfect opening. “I’ll remember that for the future. But you’re welcome to go catch up with Potter if you want, don’t let me stop you.”
“Yeah, no thanks,” his brother groans, flopping down on Regulus’s bed. “Whenever we’re alone, he keeps pestering me about making up with Remus, and I’m tired of hearing it.”
“Tell him to put a cork in it, yeah? Aren’t you always saying I need to stand up for myself? Perhaps you should take your own advice.”
Sirius makes a noncommittal noise. “Uh huh… ooh, wanna play chess? It’s been forever since our last match.”
Regulus wrinkles his nose - he hates chess, possibly because he spent the first 10 years of his life constantly losing to his brother. “I don’t think Madam Pomfrey would consider that a non-thinking activity.”
“Oh bugger, that’s right.” Sirius scans the room searching for something to do, oblivious to Regulus’s internal panic. “Skittles? We have enough space if we move Wrath’s kingdom out of the way, and it doesn’t involve any thinking or danger.”
Several arguments flash through his brain, but he settles with the misinformation he thinks will do the trick. “I’m going to hangout with Pandora for a bit, I owe her a few dozen apologies -”
Jumping excitedly to his feet, Sirius claps him on the shoulder. “Brilliant idea! I know I don’t know her too well, but she’s always been my favorite of your friends. Plus, she won’t be so willing to yell at you with me there, a win-win, methinks.”
Evan and Barty aren’t in the room, thank Merlin, otherwise he’d have to deal with a heartbroken Evan on top of everything else.
“Uh…”
His brother’s face drops, (somewhat) correctly interpreting his hesitation. “Ah, never mind, what am I saying? Of course you don’t want your git of a brother tagging along to hangout with your friends, how embarrassing! I apologize for my lack of consideration.”
“Sirius, no -”
“Just because you’ve recently hung out with my friends… er, friend… it doesn’t mean you have to bring me along to spend time with yours, brother, it doesn’t work like that.”
“Sirius -”
Grabbing a book at random off the new bookshelf he transfigured for their room, Sirius climbs back into bed, looking like a kicked crup. “Have fun, Reg,” he mutters without looking up.
Regulus stands rigidly in the middle of the floor, unsure what to do. He's been given an out, so he should accept it at face-value and go about his business. But he feels absolutely wretched leaving now; half of him thinks this is nothing more than emotional manipulation, yet something else tells him that’s not right.
“Sirius,” he tries again.
His brother lowers his book down, the aloof mask he always removes around Regulus firmly in place. “Girls don’t like to be kept waiting, Reg, even if they're your close friend.”
“I lied.” Deep breath in, slow exhale out. “I’m not meeting a girl.”
“Oh?”
“I’m meeting Severus -”
Sirius slams the book closed. “Regulus, tell me you are not -”
“We brew potions together!” Regulus hastily interjects, sensing Sirius incorrectly interpreted his words. “But I blew him off last week, and we’ve been hanging out almost every week for years now, and I find it impolite to skip another session when I feel perfectly fine, not to mention, I’ve been looking forward to it all week -”
“Fine,” Sirius snaps, cutting off Regulus’s anxious ramble. “For the record, I don’t think Madam Pomfrey would consider that to be a non-thinking activity. However,” his brother glares when he opens his mouth to argue, “you may attend.”
Regulus’s eyes narrow, warning alarms blaring in his head. “The catch?”
“I will accompany you.”
“Brother, no -”
“I will NOT hear any arguments, Regulus. Or I’ll be going straight to Narcissa, and we can see what she thinks about you brewing tonight!”
Oh, bloody hell.
Notes:
If you guessed that Captain Wiz and the Winter Auror are the wizarding world version of Captain America and the Winter Soldier, you would be right!
Next chapter we get Severus and Sirius spending time together... it's an emotional rollercoaster, though not for reasons you'd think ;)
Chapter 16: ... You
Notes:
The alternate title for this chapter: 'A Very Sirius Misunderstanding'
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The journey to the unused Potions classroom that Severus and Regulus claimed as their own paradoxically seems to take twice as long as normal, yet goes by in a flash. They walk in silence, Regulus agonizing the entire way. There’s a slim possibility he won’t even have to brew on Thursday, so maybe he should reschedule this session for the weekend; any lingering effects of his concussion should be gone by then, meaning Sirius won’t insist on joining them… but no, that would be unfair to Severus, who’s undoubtedly waiting for him by now.
So lost in thought, Regulus is about to pass by the classroom when Sirius grumbles out something along the lines of, ‘You better not have gotten us lost in this maze, Reggie’. Tracing his wand in a cursive capital ‘S’ on the wooden door, he ignores Sirius’s scoff and enters the room.
It’ll be fine, Regulus repeats to himself; the two have tolerated each other’s presence for a week and a half, this is more or less the same thing, just with less witnesses people around.
“You’re late,” Severus remarks tonelessly without looking at them.
The older Slytherin is setting up the cauldrons they leave in the room, a system designed to avoid toting their supplies back and forth. At the start of every school year, the Black brothers receive new cauldrons, so Regulus salvages their old ones for these practice sessions - it’s much more efficient than borrowing ones from the Potions classroom (the reclamation is done without Sirius’s knowledge, though Regulus doesn’t feel guilty about it because his brother is perfectly content with his old one being thrown away. It's terribly wasteful).
“By a minute, Snivellus, are you really - ow, Regulus, what the hell was that for?!”
“It’s an inside joke,” Regulus glowers after stomping on his brother’s foot.
The 'joke' stemmed from their first practice session; nervous and strung-out over the entire ordeal, Regulus arrived nearly an hour early. When Severus walked in, five minutes before their meeting time, Regulus foolishly blurted out, ‘You’re late’, and then immediately launched into a long-winded apology that rendered the older Slytherin speechless for at least a minute. Strangely enough, the gaffe seemed to soften Severus up, likely because it proved Regulus was nothing like his ‘cool’, ‘suave’, and ‘charismatic’ older brother.
“Impossible, that would mean Snape has a sense of humor,” Sirius counters stiffly, hands stuffed in the pockets of his robes. “Something I know for a fact is not the case.”
“In spite of what you seem to believe,” Severus sneers, glaring at the Gryffindor, “you actually don’t know the first thing about me, Black.”
Grabbing his brother’s wrist, Regulus drags Sirius off to the side of the room before he can retort. “Need I remind you, brother, you promised you’d be on your best behavior, so please dust off the manners you learned long ago and use them! I am well aware of how you feel about Severus,” the whole bloody school knows, and probably the Hogsmeade villagers, too, “but I enjoy spending time with him, and if that bothers you, then you know where the door is!” Giving Sirius one last warning look, Regulus joins Severus at their lab station. “Apologies, Severus, my brother insisted on accompanying me this evening after hearing about our ‘two-man brewing club’, as he so deemed it.”
Severus’s jaw clenches, but he inclines his head in acknowledgement of the silent reminder. Regulus stressed from the very beginning of their time together that these review sessions were to be kept secret - if anyone besides Evan, Barty, and Pandora were to find out they brewed together, it was not tutoring, they were merely unofficial partners who enjoyed trying their hand at more difficult potions whenever they had time.
Sirius reluctantly shuffles towards their table, his nose scrunching up when he sees the ingredients Severus brought from the Potions Storeroom. “If we’re brewing for fun, let’s do something fun.”
“No, I want to brew the Wit-Sharpening potion.”
This whole affair would be pointless if they brewed anything else - if Regulus is doomed to suffer the consequences of putting his brother and Severus Snape together in the same room, he’s at least going to get something out of it.
“You can do that in your sleep, Regulus.” He most certainly cannot! Hence the problem. “I bet Snape can too, so that’s boring.”
Regulus and Severus share a bemused glance.
Was that… was that a compliment?
“No -”
“We should whip up some Felix Felicis! Or maybe even Polyjuice, although that’s a bit time consuming.” Sirius pretends to smack his forehead. “Oh jeez, silly me, forgot who I’m talking to. Maybe an untraceable poison? Draught of the Living Death? Drink of Despair?” He frowns in faux sympathy. “Unless of course those are too advanced for your partner, Reg.”
Ah, it all makes sense now. It was too good to be true to think that Sirius could praise his nemesis.
“Please, Black, you and I are both aware that it is not my skills that are the issue here.”
Severus sends him an apologetic glance when he realizes what he said, but Regulus shrugs. If he had to guess, he’d say the comment went right over his brother’s head, an assumption that’s confirmed when Sirius growls out, “And what is that supposed to mean, Snape?”
It means Regulus isn’t advanced enough to brew any of those, even with help, even if he wasn’t recovering from a concussion, even if he was in a room by himself where he didn’t have to listen to constant bickering. But as these things tend to go, his self-obsessed brother took it as a slight against himself.
“It means that I want to brew the Wit-Sharpening potion,” Regulus hotly interjects when Severus hesitates, dark eyes darting towards the younger Slytherin for guidance.
“But Regulus -”
“No.”
“Reggie.”
“No.”
Severus silently watches their exchange, expressionless, but unable to look away.
“Come on, Reg,” Sirius pleads, lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout, as if that would ever sway Regulus when his mind is made up.
“No!”
“Brother -”
“NO!”
Throwing his hands in the air, Sirius yells out, “FINE, Reg, you win!” Triumph briefly flashes through Regulus, but while this battle may have been won, the war remained ongoing. “Good Godric, I forgot how implacable you can be, like a Niffler hunting for the world’s shiniest object… you know what! I bet your Patronus is a Niffler.”
To their surprise, Severus snorts at the remark. Sirius looks pleased with himself, boosted by the external validation he thrives off, along with how he’s ‘so clever’ that even his archenemy can’t help but laugh at his jokes.
Regulus raises his chin, unwilling to admit he’s yet to master the spell. “I bet yours is a dung beetle.”
“For your information, brat, it’s a giant dog.”
… that strangely makes sense.
“Are we ready to begin?” Severus inquires, glancing over at Regulus who nods.
Clearly, Sirius was in desperate need of a distraction, otherwise he’d continue to be unbearable. While flipping through the extra textbook he acquired for these practice sessions (‘borrowed’ from his brother’s bookshelf), Regulus notices his brother eyeing the classroom with disdain. Sure, it could be due to Severus’s presence, but it’s likely a result of the overwhelming dust on nearly every surface. Either way, it gives Regulus an idea.
It’s not hard to induce a sneeze. “Salazar, I swear no matter how often we banish the dust, it always returns with a vengeance.”
Severus arches an eyebrow but doesn’t respond to the younger’s fabricated remark; they’ve only ever dusted the table and the floor between the door and where they’re standing, both of which remain spotless.
Attention captured, Sirius rolls his eyes. “Well, you probably did it wrong.”
“By all means,” Regulus gestures to the room as a whole, knowing better than to ask how that’s even remotely possible if the dust goes away the first time, “show the class how it’s done.”
Sirius recognizes the duplicity, he’s not an idiot… but permission to succumb to his baser instincts is too good to pass up. With one last resentful glance at Severus, Sirius bustles off to begin deep-cleaning the room.
Everything goes well for the next thirty minutes, until Severus quietly corrected the way Regulus was slicing his ginger roots. He’s in the process of demonstrating the differences between cutting and slicing, along with the most efficient way to accomplish each, when Sirius sticks his nose back into their business.
“Regulus has been cutting and slicing long before Hogwarts, Snape!” Sirius interrupts, affronted on his brother’s behalf. “He doesn’t need -”
“A review of skills is always useful!” Regulus rushes to say before Severus and Sirius can get into it… again. He does know the difference between cutting and slicing, but he’s in such a hurry to finish, he didn’t notice he was doing it wrong.
Sirius frowns at the ingredients laid out on their table. “You know, if you use two and a half pieces of ginger root instead of two, the effects are longer lasting, but only if you -”
“Add an extra pinch of ground scarab beetles to offset the side effects,” Severus retorts snippily, pushing a lock of his limp hair out of his face. “I am well aware, Black… but we are brewing to the textbook, which calls for two.”
Sirius exhales in a puff. “The textbook is garbage -”
“Believe me, I know.”
“So, then why -”
“Because I like to use the textbook, Sirius!” Regulus nearly slices the top part of his finger off when he looks up to glare at his brother. He quickly turns back to his ginger roots, though he’s sure the near-miss didn’t go unnoticed by either fifth-year. “You promised not to bother me -”
"Whatever, Reg." Sirius stomps off towards the table he was vigorously scrubbing.
“Sorry, I appreciate your time in this matter,” Regulus murmurs, carefully adding his perfectly sliced ginger roots into his cauldron. “I can meet you tomorrow after lunch for our… exchange.”
“EXCHANGE ?” Sirius’s voice suddenly booms right next to his ear. Regulus flinches, and the remaining ginger roots go flying out of his hand. They're rescued by Severus’s levitating charm, then redirected directly into the cauldron. “You’re paying him to spend time with you?!”
“No!”
“It sure bloody seems like it, Regulus!”
Regulus lifts his nose in the air. “Well, it’s not.”
Sirius silently scrutinizes the scene; Severus completing his potion without glancing at the recipe, the open textbook next to Regulus, the two simmering cauldrons side-by-side, the older Slytherin waiting for the younger so they can continue, correcting techniques Regulus should have mastered long ago. “You aren’t brewing for fun, are you?”
Fuck, has he mentioned he hates how perceptive his brother can be?
“It would be fun, if -”
“Regulus.”
He sighs. “No, not really.”
“But the term just started,” Sirius mutters, sounding like he’s talking to himself. “There’s no way you’re behind yet.”
“That is correct,” Regulus confirms, resigned to his fate. He’ll have to admit to the tutoring, of course, but some aspects of their arrangement can remain a secret.
His brother’s brows pull together. “So, why are you here?”
… okay, so Sirius can be a tad dumb sometimes.
“It’s none of -”
“It most certainly is my business!”
“It’s NOT.”
Severus casts a stasis charm on both cauldrons, likely sensing his potions partner will be occupied for the foreseeable future.
“Regulus.”
“You don’t know what it’s like, Sirius!” Years of frustration, shame, and resentment threaten to bubble over, but Regulus frantically tries to reign them back in. He cannot have another meltdown in his brother’s presence, never again. “You don’t know what it’s like to be Sirius Black’s younger brother, to be your younger brother.”
“Then, perhaps you should explain -”
“Living in your shadow, everything I do weighed against what you’ve already accomplished… at home, at school, even on the bloody street, I cannot escape the constant comparisons between us!”
“I see.” Icy gray eyes stare down at him, hostile, so reminiscent of the last two years - it makes Regulus’s stomach churn. “I didn’t know you despised me so much, brother.”
“That’s not what I… Sirius, the problem is I’m not like you!” the younger Slytherin shrieks, voice rising with every word. “I’m not like you, and that’s GLARINGLY obvious to anyone who takes a second to look.”
“‘Course you’re not like me, you’re like you… Reggie, I’m sorry, I don’t understand the problem here.”
“The problem, Sirius, is that everything comes easy to you! You hardly ever crack a textbook open, and poof, spell casted, potion brewed, plant grown -”
“I read my textbooks!” his brother argues, tone laced with disbelief. “What do you think I do at 6am when everyone is asleep? You’ve seen me read them, I know you have.”
“Oh wow, so you read your books once and get everything right, that’s soooo much effort spent, congrats on all your hard work, brother.”
“Listen here, you little -”
“But for me?” Regulus continues stubbornly, refusing to let his brother control their conversation. “I have to put effort into practically every aspect of my schoolwork, especially Potions.”
Sirius throws his hands in the air. “Regulus, would you listen to yourself?! You’re so bloody desperate to be better than me that you pay Snape, a Halfblood mind you, to tutor you in Potions? What would Mother and Father say?”
Nothing nice, which is why they’ll never find out.
“Better than you? Better than you?!” Regulus can’t hold back his self-deprecating laugh. “Oh brother, what a riot! I’ve given up long ago on ever being better than you.”
“Reg -”
“Sure, it’d be nice to be your equal, but even being half as good as you is something to strive towards.”
Shuffling his feet, Sirius opens and closes his mouth several times, unable to find a suitable response. Regulus is about to turn back to his potion when his brother finds his tongue. “How exactly are you paying him? And don’t you dare say you’re using your allowance, because I saw your money pouch when we got home last year - it was nearly full.”
Drats!
Regulus knew he should have said no this summer when Sirius asked (more like begged, it was really embarrassing) to borrow a few galleons to pre-order some brand new top-of-the-line mop from one of his magazines at the ‘special introductory price’, promising to pay him back when they received their allowance at the end of the week. It was a rare sight to see Sirius so excited while holed up in Grimmauld Place. And since Regulus had plenty of money left over from the school year, nowhere near as impulsive with his spending as his older brother, he agreed. Funny how being nice always comes back to bite him in the arse.
For lack of anything else to say besides the truth, he pretends to forget that moment. “Are you going through my stuff -”
“Regulus.”
Merlin, he despises when his brother says his name like that.
“It's a mutually beneficial transaction between Severus and myself, and that’s all you need to know.”
A beat passes, and then another… and then Sirius’s face goes stark white. “Oh… oh no, Regulus, no no no no.”
Operating under the assumption he epically fucked up his potion, and they’re seconds away from a major disaster, Regulus whips around to check on his cauldron; stasis charm firmly in place, the potion is exactly where he left it. Severus shrugs when Regulus glances at him, also unenlightened as to what Sirius is going on about.
“What -” is as far as Regulus gets before Sirius yanks him forward by the front of his robe. He expects to be hexed, maybe shouted at some more; what he doesn’t expect is for Sirius to rest their foreheads together, looking stricken, like he just received the worst news imaginable.
It leaves Regulus horrendously confused.
“Er…?”
Soft, callous-free hands, gently cup his cheeks. “Please, tell me you didn’t, Reg,” Sirius breathes, voice tight with an emotion Regulus can’t pinpoint. “No, Godric, no, I can’t believe… you wouldn’t, right?”
“I didn’t,” the younger teen echoes automatically. “And I wouldn’t.”
“Ma p'tite étoile,” Regulus can’t recall the last time Sirius called him that, “how long has this been going on between you two?”
“February of my second year,” he answers bracingly.
His anxiety increases tenfold when his brother’s eyes fill with tears. “I’m so sorry… I’m so fucking sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t come to me for help, Reg. I hope one day you’ll forgive me for how I’ve let you down.”
“As touching as this moment between two siblings is,” Severus remarks acerbically before Regulus can respond to his brother’s baffling statement… what would he even say, though? He’s so fucking lost. “May we continue with our potion?”
Sirius’s eyes harden, all traces of dampness gone. Without warning, Regulus is maneuvered behind the older Gryffindor, his front pressed against Sirius’s back.
“He’s just a child!” his brother cries in outrage, his fingers clutching Regulus’s robes. “How could you do such a thing, Snape?! I always knew you were rotten, but this is just… vile!”
“For one, in the eyes of the law, we’re all children,” Severus points out, eyes glinting. “Though in reality, some of us are more so than others. And two, please enlighten me as to what precisely I have done that’s so vile, Black, I’m dying to hear what asinine conclusion you’ve reached.”
“Does your precious Evans know about you both?” Sirius savagely snarls, ignoring the request.
Severus looks uncomfortable for the first time this evening. “No, and it’s none of her business -”
“Or perhaps it’s because you know she wouldn’t approve, hm? I sure do wonder what she would have to say about it!” Sirius suddenly whirls around to face his younger brother. “Regulus, I have to tell Father about this. He needs to know.”
“NO!” the Slytherin shrieks, heart leaping to his throat. “He can’t know… Sirius, you CAN’T tell anyone!”
Oh Merlin, what the bloody hell is happening? How could Sirius, his older brother, the same older brother who at age four said it was them - him and Regulus - against the world, betray him in such a way, running to their parents… who he never goes to, even when he should… simply because Regulus is receiving help in Potions from his brother’s enemy? How petty and cruel!
“You’re right,” Sirius nods, and Regulus heaves a sigh of relief, until… “He won’t respond the same way as Andromeda. Or Narcissa... no, Bellatrix, she'll take care of it."
Chest constricting, Regulus struggles to breathe. Their cousins won’t care as much as Sirius believes they will, which means when he doesn’t get the reaction he so badly desires, he'll resort to telling their parents. Regulus cannot bear the idea of Mother and Father being displeased with him again… but honestly, they probably won’t even be surprised. Doesn’t he always find some way to disappoint them? If it’s not his grades, then it’s his social life, or rather lack thereof. He helped Slytherin win the Quidditch Cup last year, playing a major role in their victory, but the first thing Mother said when she heard was, ‘If you’re so good, why aren’t you Captain? Perhaps you’re not as talented as you like to think, hmm?’ Regulus bit the insides of his cheeks until they bled to keep from screaming that it was because he was only a third-year! He’s still the youngest on the team, and yes, seniority matters.
“Are you alright, Regulus?” Severus asks worriedly from just behind Sirius. “Do you… would you like a Calming Draught?”
The voice sounds far away, like they’re standing on opposite ends of the Great Hall. Sweat accumulates around Regulus’s hairline, and drips down the back of his neck, the room’s temperature increasing twenty degrees in the span of a few minutes. Regulus’s mind races; he can fix this, he has to, but a solution evades him, his thoughts running round and round in circles, endlessly, centering around the source of the problem - Sirius.
Hands tightly grip his shoulders, yanking him back to reality. “Reg?”
“Don’t touch me, don’t touch me!” Regulus screams, shaking off his brother’s hands. Fuck, his chest hurts, and he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, he can't think of a way out of this, he can't think, why can he never think?!
“Reg, what’s wrong?”
Everything, you, me, it’s me, it’s always me, I’m wrong, why can I never do anything right?
“What’s wrong is how everything always has to be about you! No matter how hard I try to be the perfect son, how hard I try to be good enough, Mother and Father always prefer you… and you don’t even fucking CARE! So, now you’re going to tattle on me in hopes of earning what you already have? Or is it simply because you can, because you enjoy ruining my life?”
Sirius gapes at him. “I’m not trying to ruin -”
“You’re such a liar, Sirius! You always ruin everything, I wish you never came back… I hate you!”
Chest heaving after his rant, it’s Severus’s discomfited expression that has Regulus repeating the words in his head. When his eyes move to his brother, Sirius stands frozen, lips parted in shock, skin ashen.
Oh, oh no, he didn’t mean to say that, he didn’t, Sirius is never going to forgive him now, he ruined everything, for good this time. There will be no coming back from this.
Run, a voice in his head whispers.
Succumbing to the overwhelming urge, Regulus flees the room like a coward. He doesn’t know where to go, doesn’t want to risk running into anyone he knows, so he sprints away in the opposite direction from which they came, going deeper and deeper into the dungeons, farther than he’s ever dared to explore before. Eventually, a fleeting thought crosses his mind, the first coherent one in minutes - you should avoid getting lost down here - leading him to throw a door open at random and dash inside.
His brain screams, screams, screams, pleads, begs him to hide, to hide until everything goes away, until he can finally breathe again, until he can think… Regulus lets out an actual scream when he discovers he’s not alone.
“Regulus,” Sirius sneers from across the room, face twisted up in the darkest of scowls. “How fitting to find you cowering in the dark like a child. Merlin, will you ever grow up?”
“S-Sirius?” Regulus stammers.
How did his brother manage to get ahead of him? And why can’t he find his voice to ask?
“Aw, is poor baby Reggie frightened?” Sirius mocks, gazing at him with the same expression Mother wears when someone brings up Muggles, or ‘half-breeds’, like werewolves. “Our relatives will be so disappointed when they hear about this. Getting Potions help from a Halfblood raised in the Muggle world? How could you demean yourself in such a way? Have you no shame? No sense of pride? How are you so bloody incompetent? A Black struggling at Potions… it’s unheard of!”
Regulus frantically shakes his head, trying to articulate the arguments he should have spoken earlier. “He’s a Potions prodigy, he’s -”
Sirius stalks towards him, and Regulus fights against the urge to back away - in all of their spats, his brother has never looked at him with such loathing. “Spare me your arguments, brother, they’re useless, just like you. You can’t even defend yourself against a Hufflepuff, for Merlin’s sake! It’s obvious why our parents favor me when you’re the other option. Even if I were to run away and forsake our family name, they would never love you. How could they? You don’t deserve to bear such a noble name, you’re a disgrace to every Black that’s ever come before us.”
“That’s… t-that’s not true,” Regulus whispers, but he knows it’s a lie, and Sirius knows he knows it’s a lie.
“I think it’s time we’re finally honest with each other, don’t you agree?” Sirius looms over him, teeth bared. “Narcissa and Andromeda only spend time with you because you share their surname. James, you remember him, surely? The brother I wish I had? He only talks to you because we’re related, and a nice bloke like him can’t help but pity someone as pathetic as you. The second we all leave Hogwarts… well, truthfully, you’ll never see any of us again, especially once I tell Mother what you’ve been up to. If she doesn’t blast you off the tapestry right then and there, I’ll do the honors myself.”
Knees buckling, Regulus sinks to the floor, his shaky legs unable to handle his weight. Tears well up in his eyes at the remarks, words he’s thought to himself late at night behind the safety of his bed curtains. His brother isn’t telling him anything new; Regulus knows he’s worthless, useless, deficient, a disgrace to the Black name, the runt of the litter, so to speak, he knows, but to hear such truisms from his brother, the brother he’s adored and idolized for his entire life, rather than his own brain? It’s excruciating.
“Please,” Regulus pleads, voice trembling. He can’t let Sirius see him cry, he can’t. “Please stop. Just… I know, okay? I already know.”
But Sirius doesn’t stop, and his next words gut Regulus to his core.
“Evidently, modern medicine does have its pitfalls… had you died as a child like you were supposed to, it would have spared us the agony of knowing someone so wholly unlovable.”
“Riddikulus!” a familiar voice shouts from behind him.
Regulus hardly notices when his ‘brother’ morphs into a giant stuffed dog. With a flick of his wand, Severus sends the plushie into the desk at the other end of the classroom.
“Did you find him?!” Sirius pants, rushing into the room seconds later. The younger Slytherin covers his face with his hands, boggart-Sirius’s words echoing in his ears. “Merlin, Reg, how the bloody hell do you run so fast… what happened?”
Useless, useless, useless, always needing to be rescued.
“Boggart,” Severus answers evasively.
He hears Sirius approach cautiously, and he hates that he’s the cause for the hesitation, the uncertainty. “Alright, Reg?”
Unlovable, who could ever love you?
“I’ve…” Regulus lowers his hands but can't meet his brother’s eyes, “... been better.”
To his relief… you’re so pathetic, needing to be comforted like a child… Sirius drops to his knees and drags him into a crushing hug. “It’s alright, you’re alright, there’s no water down here.” He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding; of course Sirius would assume his worst fear was drowning… up until this moment, Regulus thought the same.
“We’re under the Black Lake,” Regulus points out in a small voice, how can he tolerate being near me after the awful things I said? “A giant body of water.”
Sirius loosens his grip but doesn’t pull away. “Yes, but I meant there’s no water in here, the dungeons, where we are… smartass.”
“Please don’t tell,” Regulus murmurs, hiding his face in Sirius’s robes. They both know he isn’t referring to the boggart. “Please. I’m so sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it, I swear I didn’t. But please, brother, please don’t tell.”
Sirius is silent for a long while, fingers carding through Regulus’s butchered hair. Eventually, he lets out an irritated huff. “I won’t tell anyone, but you have to stop this… James and I can help you, Regulus, we’re just as good -”
“I only want Severus’s help,” Regulus counters, pulling away to glare at his brother. “I don’t care how shameful it is, but he’s a superb teacher… I’ve improved so much! I don’t want to change.”
“James and I won’t require… remittance… for our assistance!”
Too prideful to allow himself to be indebted to James Potter of all people, Regulus also knows he’d never be able to concentrate if the Chaser tutored him (not that he’d ever say that aloud). “There are things worth paying for, as you bloody well know! This is not the big deal you’re making it into, Sirius.”
“Regulus, I need you to understand that what you’re doing is wrong!” his brother hisses quietly, so Severus can't hear. “You cannot trade something so valuable for anything, let alone for something as trivial as -”
“If something belongs to me, that means it’s mine. Which one could then reason entails that I can do whatever I want with it, and it’s nobody else’s business -”
“You should have more self-respect!” Sirius screeches, sounding eerily similar to their mother. “I did not raise you this way, Regulus! You will stop this nonsense at once, or you’ll leave me no choice but to take further action.”
Regulus recoils, deeply offended by his brother’s take on the matter. “I have plenty of self-respect, which is why I am trying to better myself -”
“TRADING YOUR BODY FOR HELP IN POTIONS IS NOT BETTERING YOURSELF, REGULUS, HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE THAT?!”
“My… my body?!” Regulus repeats dumbly.
“WHAT?!” Severus shouts, his face turning beet red. “Is that what they do in Gryffindor? How did you ever arrive at such a deplorable conclusion as… that?”
Sirius holds his hands up placatingly, complexion turning an unflattering crimson, worse than Severus's. “I’ll have you know, I have some very good reasons!”
“Don’t worry, Severus, I’ve got it covered.” Regulus removes his wand and points it at Sirius’s face. “Riddikulus!” When nothing happens, he shakes his hand out and tries again. “Riddikulus!... ugh, what in the world is going on?” He looks over at at the older Slytherin. “Maybe you should try?”
“I’m not a boggart, you git,” Sirius whines, pushing Regulus’s wand away from his face. “And if you point your wand at me, Snape, I’ll hex you into next week.”
Severus’s lip curls. “It’s one-on-one, Black. Perhaps you'd prefer to invite your three friends… or is it two now?”
“Enough, both of you!” Regulus snaps, no longer willing to deal with their constant bickering. “Sirius, I do pay him financially for this assistance. But I also trade him books from our library at home, predominantly from my own collection, and he returns them quickly, but…”
His brother winces. “Ah, I can see why you wouldn’t want Mother and Father to know.”
“Exactly.” Good, they’re making progress. “Now, I’m not sure if I want to know why you thought I was paying for Potions help with -”
“Oh, I sure do,” Severus interrupts angrily.
So, it turns out, a sullen-Sirius isn’t as oblivious as Regulus thought. His brother claims to have witnessed Regulus ‘trying to hold Snape’s hand’ at lunch today, which made the older Slytherin immensely uncomfortable. For some inexplicable reason, Sirius took this to mean that they were ‘involved’; he believed Regulus wanted more from their ‘relationship’ but Severus didn’t, at least not publicly. He also says Regulus was acting ‘very dodgy’ for the rest of the day, and his suspicions were further raised by the way Regulus initially lied about his plans for the evening, his adamant argument against Sirius telling their parents or cousins about his tutoring, and his refusal to explain what he was ‘exchanging’ as payment. There’s also mention of a Muggle book Sirius had borrowed from ‘someone’ (Lupin, he assumes) where one of the characters trades her body for financial compensation, leading Sirius to conclude that something similar must be happening here as well.
Severus, the poor schmuck, still looks terribly confused. But Regulus has lived with Sirius long enough to realize his brother’s brain works differently than most people’s, for better or worse... this time, it’s much worse.
“Your brother and I are nothing more than friends,” Severus declares coolly.
“Oh, are we?” Regulus asks without thinking, perking up at the remark - he has another friend!
Severus brushes some dust off his clothing with a frown. “I mean, I thought we were -”
“Don’t get offended, Snape,” Sirius interrupts, tossing his arm over his brother’s shoulder. “I’m being very serious when I say Regulus needs to hear someone say they’re his friend before he believes it.”
“It’s impolite to assume things!”
Notes:
I promise the angst will make more sense in later chapters! But not to worry, the next chapter is pure Black-family chaos, some romance, and general silliness.
Chapter 17: High on Life
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Wednesday morning dawns bright and way too early, a cursed day perfectly fitted for his cursed existence. Regulus had been looking forward to a relaxing, peaceful, undramatic twenty-four hours where he could mentally prepare himself for his return to academia, while also beginning the long recovery process of healing from the scarring trauma of the day prior.
As Fate would have it, only more drama was in store for him... fucking figures.
“SIRIUS ORION BLACK!” a shrill voice shrieks; Regulus’s bed curtains are opened with a violent sounding swish, and he’s thrown back into the world of consciousness as a body knocks into him. “You’re so fucking dead, you little weasel, how could you do this to me?!”
“Oi! I didn’t do anyth -” Sirius sputters when he’s hit in the face with another burst of liquid from someone’s wand, half of it then dripping onto Regulus. “STOP WOMAN, GOOD GODRIC, WHAT IS YOUR BLOODY PROBLEM?!”
Sirius crawls over his brother, shamelessly hiding behind him. “Please… please s-stop shouting,” Regulus mumbles tiredly, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He whines internally at how uncomfortable he feels with his sodden clothes sticking to him. “What’s wrong?”
Lifting his head to see the intruder, Regulus startles, thinking Professor Shaede, the Divination instructor, has suddenly appeared in his dorm, clad in her billowy robes and shawls.
Several blinks later, their cousin comes into view. “Your brother,” Narcissa spits, the hood of her robe lifted over her head and a silken shawl covering half of her face, “cursed me!”
“I DID NOT!” Sirius cries indignantly. “But if you keep acting crazy, I might have to!”
Narcissa lifts her wand again. “Acting crazy, am I?”
“Aren’t you?” the Gryffindor drawls. “If the shawl fits, hm?”
“Why you little -”
“Enough, enough!” Regulus growls, absolutely not in the mood for this… a glance towards the clock leaves him nauseated - not even Sirius wakes this early on his own accord.
“She started it,” Sirius harrumphs.
“You started it, but I’ll finish it, cousin, mark my words!”
Grabbing his wand from his bedside table, Regulus spells himself, his brother, and his bed dry. “Can you please explain what happened?” he politely asks, hoping if he gets to the bottom of the issue quickly enough, he’ll earn himself a few more precious hours of sleep.
After a brief hesitation, Narcissa toes her slippers off and sits primly in the center of the bed, the curtains, and the silencing charms, closing around them. She glares at the older Black brother. “Something you’d like to confess to first, Sirius?”
“I confess to not knowing what the bloody hell is wrong with you!” Sirius hotly counters back, though the sting of his words is mitigated by the way he angles his body halfway behind his brother.
Their bickering continues until Regulus finally snaps, “For the love of Salazar, STOP! Narcissa, if you cannot explain why you think Sirius cursed you, then I request that you please leave so I may return to resting, per Madam Pomfrey’s instructions.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry Regulus, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
Sirius makes a noise of disbelief, but Narcissa is slowly unwrapping her shawl, and his curiosity outweighs his need to complain.
“I don’t understand the problem, cousin, you look exactly the same,” Sirius confesses when she finishes. He turns to Regulus, expression thoughtful. “Really thought she grew devil horns after all this time, bit disappointed, truthfully. Remember how I told you the Muggles have this guy called Jesus -“
“This is not a laughing matter!” she screeches, and the brothers tense as she raises her wand. But their fear is unwarranted when she only casts a Lumos charm, the tip of her wand lighting up to reveal the blemishes on her chin, nose, and forehead.
Sirius hastily throws a hand over his eyes to shield them. “Dear Merlin, warn a guy would you!”
Born with eyes more sensitive to light than most, Regulus is sure their cousin’s spell temporarily blinded his brother. The distress is understandable… but Sirius’s thoughtless words prove disastrous.
Narcissa’s lip quivers.
Regulus roughly elbows his brother, a silent demand to fix it. “It’s not bad at all, Narcissa!”
What’s a little white lie to make someone feel better?
“I’m blind!” Sirius bemoans, still rubbing at his eyes, evidently missing Regulus’s memo because he’s too wrapped up in his own world, per usual.
“I know!” They freeze when Narcissa drops her face into her hands and bursts into tears. “It’s DREADFUL, what am I going to do?! I can’t be seen like this… I’ll be the laughing stock of the whole school!”
Sirius smacks Regulus’s arm and jerks his head toward their crying cousin, wordlessly demanding the younger do something. But the Slytherin throws his hands in the air in response, wholly unequipped to handle this situation - as the youngest, Regulus is generally the one being comforted, not the other way around. He doesn’t recall ever seeing his cousins cry, unless they were dragon tears (an insincere display of emotion trying to garner sympathy or manipulate someone for some specific purpose).
‘What’s wrong?’ Sirius mouths; Regulus waves a hand around his face, and after a moment, his brother’s eyes widen in understanding.
“There, there Cissa,” Sirius murmurs, cautiously inching towards her. “Please hold in your curses for now, I’m going to give you what the peasants call a hug.” When she minutely nods, he tentatively wraps his arms around her, and she buries her face in his chest. “I’m sure we can scrape together some products that will clear it up before you know it, and in the meantime, with just a dash of makeup, you’ll continue to rule the school with an iron fist and flawless skin.”
“I don’t wear makeup!” she cries, her words muffled into Sirius’s bedclothes. “Only to events. So, if I suddenly start wearing it now, everyone will know I have terrible skin, and no one will respect me anymore, and they’ll call me names, and mock me to my face… and L-Lucius is going to leave me for that Ravenclaw trollop who always throws herself at him! My life is OVER, Sirius, before it’s even begun.”
Sirius and Regulus share a panicked look when her sobs worsen.
At a loss for what to do, the older teen mouths, ‘Andromeda’, and Regulus nearly throws himself out of the bed, relieved to have a ‘plan’. The relief lasts until he’s halfway to the seventh-year girls’ dorm, when he suddenly realizes that means he has to go into his cousin’s room, the same room where she sleeps with five older girls of no (close) relation to the Blacks. Over the years, Regulus has needed to fetch his cousin for one reason or another, but always during the day, and he’s never had to actually enter her dorm unaccompanied. Since it’s not even the crack of dawn, Regulus is awake enough to comprehend that knocking would drastically increase his likelihood of getting cursed.
But for the first time this morning, the Fates smile upon him.
“Ella!” Regulus quietly calls when he sees Evan’s older sister walking towards the Common Room, a large textbook tucked under the crook of her arm. He winces when she startles at the sound of her name, but after listening to his censored explanation, she fetches his cousin for him.
“Do I even want to know why Cissa is in your room at this hour?” Andromeda asks around a yawn, softly closing the door to her dorm behind her. “What did Sirius do now?”
“Nothing!” Regulus says defensively, too annoyed to feel guilty for how rude he sounds. “Narcissa is extremely upset because she thinks my brother cursed,” he lowers his voice, just to be cautious, “her face to break out, but I know he is not responsible.”
The brunette looks dubiously at him. “You’re positive about this?”
“Without a shadow of a doubt, he did nothing to her,” Regulus answers firmly. “Besides,” what’s another white lie to add to the list? “Sirius was with me all night, from dinner until we went to bed.” It’s close enough to the truth.
“Hmm,” she hums, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, “Narcissa only breaks out right before her time of the month, but since her cycle ended days ago, that cannot be the cause.”
That explains her intense reaction, at least; unexpected situations are always more stressful to deal with than the ones you anticipate.
“I am pleased to know my stash of chocolates is safe,” Regulus quips.
Tossing her head back, Andromeda laughs delightedly, until she remembers how early in the morning it is and cuts herself off with a wince. “Pandora has definitely been good for you, cousin… you should have seen Sirius’s face the first time Bella brought up menstruation in front of him. Thought he was going to keel over and die from the embarrassment of it all.”
“He’s surprisingly quite prudish,” the younger Slytherin acknowledges. “Given his general reputation and the persona he projects, I was quite taken aback.”
Tiptoeing into the almost pitch-black room, their only source of light is the green-ish glow from the windows looking out into the depths of the Black Lake. Andromeda lightly grasps Regulus’s shoulder, allowing him to guide her towards his bed. Pulling back the curtains, they find Sirius with his back pressed against the headboard, arm casually slung over Narcissa, her head resting on his shoulder. Wrath is curled comfortably on his chest, purring up a storm as the blonde strokes her silky fur.
“Alright, let’s see it.” Andromeda sits on the edge of the bed, while Regulus claims the space on Narcissa’s other side for himself. Sirius wisely shields his eyes as the brunette lights her wand. “Merlin, Cissy, you do look terrible!”
“It’s fixable!” Sirius hurriedly says when Narcissa sniffles again, sending a glare towards their other cousin for her insensitivity.
Andromeda snorts. “Have you slept at all this week? When’s your exam?”
“It’s right after lunch, and of course I slept!” Narcissa huffs, rolling her eyes. “Rest and proper hydration are extremely important -”
“Falling asleep at your desk doesn’t count, nor does napping for an hour or so in your bed while you’re studying,” Andromeda interrupts with a pointed look. “And hydrating via doses of Wit-Sharpening Potion every few hours doesn’t either.”
Narcissa falters, and after some additional questioning, confesses she’s been too preoccupied to properly attend to her schoolwork lately; although she’s not drastically behind in her studies, the increased stress stems from feeling additional pressure to achieve even higher grades than before.
You’re such a burden, a voice in the back of Regulus’s head whispers. Look at what you did to her, it’s your fault she’s behind, your fault she’s blaming your brother for her body’s reaction to her increased stress levels, your fault Andromeda’s now awake so early. It's. All. Your. Fault.
“I’m sorry, Cissa,” Regulus murmurs, feeling terrible for how he’s negatively impacted his family lately. “It’s my -”
“It’s NOT your fault, Regulus,” Narcissa interrupts. “You have done nothing wrong, and my preoccupation has nothing to do with you or what’s occurred lately.” Guess he’s not the only one who lies to spare others’ feelings. “If anything, your brother is to blame.” The blonde sticks her tongue out at Sirius. “You, cousin Sirius, are a terrible influence.”
Sirius beams, and at great risk to himself, playfully ruffles her hair. “You’re welcome!”
Yanking his hand back when she moves like she’s going to grab her wand, Sirius turns around to start rifling through the bottom drawer of Regulus’s nightstand. With a cry of triumph, he hands his brother a collapsible cauldron, one Regulus wasn’t aware he even owned. He then leans over the side of the bed, nearly kicking the younger Slytherin in the process, to search for Merlin-knows-what.
“Why do I get the feeling you know exactly where all of Regulus’s belongings are?” Andromeda asks when Sirius straightens up, holding the storage container Regulus uses for additional ingredients and materials he doesn’t have space for in the potions-kit he brings to class (he once convinced himself that he’d be better at Potions if he owned the highest quality materials and ingredients money could buy, including a small hoard of books, and uh… sadly, that wasn’t the case. But the books were great!).
“Because I do,” Sirius shrugs unapologetically. “I’m nosy… but to be fair, that’s my cauldron.”
“At least you’re self-aware,” Andromeda says diplomatically.
Sirius flicks his wrist, and Regulus’s nightstand floats closer to the bed. “I have a fantastic, foolproof, multi-step plan that will get you back to your beautiful self… though still not as beautiful as me… with no one, sans us three, the wiser to your predicament.” Setting the compressed cauldron down on the wooden surface, Sirius snaps his fingers, and it pops into its usual size. “While I begin Phase One, I need you two,” he nods to Andromeda and Regulus, “to please get dressed for the day, if you’d be so kind, and return here in ten minutes. And Narcissa, darling, please wash your face using the purple vial in the bathroom.”
With that directive, Regulus feels the last remnants of hope fading away; he clearly won’t be going back to sleep anytime soon. Thank Salazar he’s excused from classes for the day!
“Tada!” Sirius cheers ten minutes later, showing them the small batch of ointment in the bottom of the cauldron. “My homemade miracle cure for unexpected breakouts and stubborn acne that won’t clear up no matter what you do.”
Narcissa peers incredulously down at the cauldron. “I appreciate the gesture, but you can’t honestly believe I’m going to put that on my face, right?” The Gryffindor’s expression immediately darkens, and he opens his mouth to argue, but their cousin doesn’t give him the chance to start shouting. “Sirius, have you EVER had a pimple in your entire life?”
Regulus fully understands her skepticism - Sirius is very proud of his ‘flawless’ skin, something he’s not shy about discussing… constantly.
“Of course!” Sirius exclaims, sounding affronted; he then notices their matching disbelieving expressions. “Okay fine, I broke out once, but it was traumatizing enough that I never wanted to experience it again. So I didn’t.” He lowers his voice in spite of the silencing charms on Regulus’s bed curtains. “If you ever repeat this, just remember I have a trunk of embarrassing photographs of each of you, got it?” They nod in understanding, well-versed in the concept of mutually-assured destruction. “Regulus and I are on a monthly acne potions regiment.”
Regulus blinks. “What?”
Surely, Sirius is just lying to get her to trust him…
“Kreacher never told you?” the Black heir asks bemusedly. “Huh, really thought the little bugger would tell you outright, even once he realized I wasn’t trying to poison you.”
That’s when Regulus learns that after his brother experienced his own breakout over the summer a few years ago, he spent nearly a month ‘perfecting’ his personalized maintenance treatment and emergency spot cream under the tutelage of Grandmother Melania at Black Manor. She always brewed everything herself rather than trust store bought, inventing new potions from scratch when she required something that didn’t currently exist. When Regulus pointed out he absolutely does not remember any of this - both Sirius’s breakout and him having individual lessons with Grandmother - his brother countered with, “Reg, do you remember anything about ANY of our trips to Black Manor besides what books you read in the library during that time period?”... Regulus does not (for the most part), but the library was fantastic, so he cannot be blamed for his hyper-fixation.
As such, when Regulus suffered his own bout of acne two years ago, Sirius quickly took notice. Unbeknownst to his brother, Sirius whipped up another batch of his maintenance potions, the recipe tweaked slightly to account for aspects in Regulus’s life that may have worsened his breakout (puberty, of course, but also his terrible sleep schedule; for Sirius, he admits he touches his face too much). But Kreacher caught him trying to mix the potion into Regulus’s lunch one day, and after a lot of ‘discussion’, they came to a compromise; if something happened to Regulus other than his skin clearing, Kreacher would report Sirius to their parents immediately.
“He never said anything,” Regulus murmurs, flabbergasted that Sirius and Kreacher could ever work together on anything. As bad as it sounds, he understands why Sirius wouldn’t tell him; for one, Sirius would have to admit his skin wasn’t naturally flawless, a big deal for someone so vain, and two, Regulus likely wouldn’t have trusted the potion because they weren’t on good terms back then. Shockingly, he’s actually grateful for the subterfuge; his clear complexion is one of the few things in his life he doesn’t have to worry about. “I never even questioned why I was suddenly getting monthly care packages from him when the new school year started.”
“Yeah, that was his idea,” Sirius says breezily, like he didn’t just rock the foundations of Regulus’s world. “Much easier than me trying to sneak it into your food once a month.”
Andromeda glances calculatingly between the two brothers, like she can’t decide if she should believe them or not. “If your maintenance potions are so good, why the emergency spot treatment?”
The Gryffindor scoffs. “Please, Andie! Do you think James, the boy who washes his face with the same soap he uses on his hands, has naturally clear skin with once-monthly potions? Or Peter, who didn’t even wash his face until last year, has unblemished skin without additional help?”
“Ew,” Narcissa and Regulus shudder in unison.
“Blacks might be emotionally volatile and borderline mad, but the physical representation of our genetics is superior,” Sirius finishes sagely.
Regulus wonders if Sirius noticed how he lumped himself in with the rest of their family. Perhaps not, but his words are enough to sway Narcissa. “Alright fine, you can add me to your list of experiments. But if you make it worse, I will skin you alive and wear your insides as a scarf.”
Sirius rolls his eyes. “Okay, Bella.” Less sarcastically, he adds, “It should be visibly reduced in the next hour, and gone completely by tomorrow. So, in the meantime, you will stay here and take a very necessary, nonnegotiable nap, while Reg, Andie, and I, begin Phase 2.”
It takes additional persuading and several linen-freshening charms, but Narcissa agrees once Andromeda says she’ll come wake her for breakfast.
“What are you planning next?” Regulus questions as they make their way through the sparsely populated Common Room (why are people awake so early?! Did they hate themselves?)
“Something fun,” Sirius grins mischievously.
Andromeda and Regulus share a wary glance.
“Can I get into that room from yesterday if I remember the pattern?”
Regulus shakes his head; the room will only allow either himself or Severus to open it.
“You aren’t going to make a school full of hormonal teenagers breakout are you?” Andromeda asks hesitantly. “While that’s rather… thoughtful… of you, I think the ramifications could prove disastrous.”
Sirius assures them he isn’t, going so far as to pinky-swear with their cousin. A short walk through the dungeons follows, and once Regulus traces the ‘S’ on the door, he’s assigned his own task.
“This is a prank, right?” Regulus hisses, regretting his decision to follow his brother - he should have climbed into Evan’s bed to return to sleep like he debated on doing. Sirius could brew in one of the other dozens of abandoned classrooms.
“I mean, technically, yes, you are helping me with a prank,” the Gryffindor nods, setting up two cauldrons on the desk, exactly like yesterday… it’s bizarre to share this space with his brother and cousin all of a sudden, a space that’s only been his and Severus’s until now. Sirius suddenly gasps. “Reggie, it’s our first prank together, ooh, this is so exciting! I wish I had my camera to document this momentous occasion, but I will cherish this memory for the rest of my life, I solemnly vow it.”
“No, brother, I meant what you asked of me… you seriously want me to trek all the way to your dorm, on the seventh floor, and ask to borrow Potter’s cloak?!” He throws his hands in the air. “Which one am I even asking for… does Potter only own one?!”
Not only does Sirius confirm that Regulus is indeed required to travel to the seventh floor, he explains Potter only owns one ‘important’ one. Ripping a blank page out of a random textbook left on the desk, Sirius draws a map of shortcuts for Regulus to use, followed by a second map of his dorm, highlighting the exact location of Potter’s bed. Regulus’s robes are charmed to match his brother’s, his hair smoothed out until it’s less curly, and then both maps are pressed into his hands, Sirius instructing him to, ‘either return to this room when you have it, or meet in the Entrance Hall at 7:45.’
“This is CRUCIAL to my plan,” Sirius stresses, placing his hands on Regulus’s shoulders, staring him dead in the eye. “I swear I’m not pulling your leg. And he’ll know what you mean… just remember, all of this is for Narcissa, yeah?”
Years ago, Regulus overheard Grandfather disparagingly remark to Grandmother that Sirius could talk his brother into anything, if the older was so inclined. At the time, Regulus believed this to be highly overexaggerated… now? He thinks the elder Black may have been onto something.
“Fine,” Regulus sighs; considering it’s his fault she’s in this predicament in the first place, he could do this little task for her.
“Oh, and Reg?” Sirius calls when the younger is halfway to the door. He waits until Regulus turns around before saying, “Be nice, yeah? None of this is James’s fault.”
Regulus rolls his eyes. “I will be nice to your precious Potter, brother. Wouldn’t want the Big Bad Slytherin to hurt his little feelings, now, would we?”
“There’s a good lad,” Sirius beams, ignoring the sass. He starts setting out ingredients while Andromeda watches on, waiting for further instruction. “Feel free to take a nap in my bed, just be back -”
“By 7:45, Merlin, I KNOW!” Regulus shouts, exasperated.
Before the door slams shut behind him, he hears Sirius mutter, “Teenagers, sheesh.”
Dragging his tired and weary body up to the seventh floor, Regulus resentfully can admit, to himself only, the shortcuts his brother revealed make the excursion fairly painless. Before long, he’s standing in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, the guardian to the Gryffindor Common Room. But his ire returns tenfold once he realizes he doesn’t know the password - due to the ungodly hour, Regulus will likely be forced to loiter outside until some early riser exits.
Glancing at the first map his brother drew, he turns it over, thinking maybe the password was scrawled on the back. As expected, given Regulus’s general bad luck, there’s nothing there… but a pair of words now hover next to the giant star Sirius drew to indicate his final destination.
“Frog liver?” Regulus reads aloud in disgust - what a dumb password, that cannot be right, could it?
“Long night, dearie?” the Fat Lady probes.
The portrait swings open, and opting to ignore the question dripping with judgment, Regulus uses the second map to follow the path his brother outlined for him, coming to a stop outside the door with the plaque, ‘Fifth-Year-Boys’. Taking a deep breath, he cautiously turns the doorknob, silently praying there are no forgotten boobytraps guarding their abode.
Stepping into the room, Regulus’s mouth drops in amazement; Sirius’s description of his ‘improvements’ didn’t do the room justice.
The first glaring difference is how it seems to be twice as large as Regulus’s own dorm. Out of a need for empirical data, he slips out of the room to quietly open the door to the fourth-year boys’ dorm - it looks similar in size to the Slytherin’s own, a fact he’s not sure makes him feel better or worse. Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s may have equal accommodations, but Sirius always receives the best of the best (he also notes that, just as Sirius claimed, his dorm is rectangular while the other year’s room is circular).
All four beds are moved to the left side of the room, but due to the enlarged size, it’s not cramped. Based on the map his brother drew, Sirius and Potter’s beds are on one side of the armoire the boys share, with Lupin and Pettigrew on the other side. Individual nightstands divide the space between each pair of beds. It’s obvious where Lupin sleeps due to the articles of clothing covering 90% of his floor space. The other two, sans Sirius, are somewhat untidy, but compared to their messy friend, it’s hardly noticeable.
The bookshelf straight ahead is the center-piece of the room, reaching from the floor to ceiling, stretching across half of the wall. The lounge area in front of it looks well used, with blankets and pillows strewn across the couches, and someone’s novel left on the side table. Three of the four desks to the right are cluttered with books, scrolls of parchment, and quills, making it easy to pinpoint Sirius’s meticulous space. A coat rack is positioned directly to the right of the door, next to a separate rack where they hang their school bags; to the left is a two-columned shoe rack, four cubbies designated for each boy. The fairy lights Sirius mentioned hang from the ceiling across the expanse of the room, the mystical glow providing Regulus with enough light to walk to Potter’s bed without needing to use his wand.
Standing in the space between Potter’s bed and his brother’s, Regulus inhales slowly before tearing open the bed curtain, making no effort to be quiet. Curled on his side, Potter’s tanned, muscular arms are wrapped around a spare pillow, another squished between his legs. His hair, nowhere near as long as the Black brothers’, still manages to splay over the pillow his head rests on, the comforter pulled up to his shoulders. Unfortunately, Regulus’s plan to generate enough noise to wake him up fails - leave it to Potter to be a pain in his arse, even in sleep.
“Potter,” Regulus hisses, disinclined to use his wand yet. The awkwardness of the situation is bad enough, but to add in the other two witless wonders? No thanks. “Wake up!”
“S’matter?” Potter yawns, his nose scrunching up in a way that Regulus does NOT find adorable. “Siri?” With another yawn, the Chaser sits up, the covers falling from his shoulders to pool around his middle, burdening Regulus with the newfound knowledge that Potter sleeps shirtless. Merlin have mercy on his soul if it turns out the Gryffindor sleeps in the buff. “What’s wrong?”
Regulus keeps his eyes trained on Potter’s forehead… not his eyes, because without his spectacles, they’re even more captivating than usual. “It’s Regulus.”
Potter tenses, which causes Regulus to tense in preparation for some overly dramatic commotion. “What’s wrong with Regulus? Is it Smith again? What happened, what’s the plan? Wait… you already did something impulsive, didn’t you? Do I need to help you hide a body? Not sure how I feel about that, but I’ll suck it up for him.” The Gryffindor sucks in a breath, oblivious to the way Regulus internally melts at that last part. “Oh… oh bloody hell, did he tell you? He told you, didn’t he… look, mate, there’s something I gotta tell you -”
“Shut up, would you!” Potter fumbles for something on his nightstand, and Regulus belatedly remembers how utterly blind he is without his glasses. “Stop moving, and let me help you.” Grumbling indecipherably about it under his breath, he eventually remains motionless long enough for Regulus to slip the glasses onto his face. “Now, as I was saying - I am Regulus. My brother has sent me on this fool’s errand to request… Potter, are you listening to me?!”
Potter remains immobile for a worrying amount of time, blinking every so often, but otherwise unresponsive. Just when the Slytherin is about to reach over and poke him with the tip of his wand, he flinches, and with a shriek Regulus will mercilessly mock him for in the years to come, yanks his covers up to his chin. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”
“Keep your voice down!” Regulus chastises, realizing he should have cast a silencing charm. “Unless you’re trying to wake the entire bloody castle?”
“You can’t just BARGE in here without warning!” Potter whines at a marginally quieter volume.
Regulus raises an eyebrow, because really?! “And why’s that? You and your lot have come into Slytherin in the past, and you cannot deny you didn’t go into other people’s rooms.” His lips drop into a mocking frown. “Aw, what’s the matter, Potter? Can’t handle the same thing being done to you?”
Potter’s expression turns gleeful. “Ooh, are you here to prank me? You know that’ll mean war if so.”
“Puh-lease,” the Slytherin scoffs. “I have a million better things to do than get into some kind of childish revenge game with you, Potter.” Which is true! There are also a million better things he could be doing with Potter, but that is neither here nor there.
“Do you, now?” The older teen pats the empty space next to him. “Here, sit, and tell me all these super fun things you’d rather do than pull pranks on unsuspecting, innocent Gryffindors.”
This isn’t a social visit, Regulus forcefully reminds himself.
And yet…
Against his better judgment, Regulus cautiously perches on the edge of the bed, keeping his feet planted firmly on the floor and hands in his lap. A look of surprise flashes across Potter’s face, and then his coy smile softens into something more sincere, making Regulus’s heart do worrisome things. This is uncharted territory… granted, every moment he spends with Potter seems to bring new experiences, both good and bad, but this is undeniably intimate. Regulus isn’t sure what’s expected of him.
He nearly falls off the bed when Potter leans forward to peck him on the lips.
“What was that for?” Regulus squeaks; there’s no audience to put on an act for, just Regulus and Potter, alone in the Gryffindor’s bed.
Potter gapes at him like Regulus was the one who initiated the kiss. “Uh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think -”
“Do you ever?” Regulus teases, scrunching up his nose. “I wasn’t complaining,” he casually adds for good measure, lest they have another misunderstanding. “Just confused.”
“Oh.”
They lapse into companionable silence. Regulus, no longer in such a hurry to leave, uses the time to look around at Potter’s section of the room. Next to them, the nightstand is predominantly taken up by a pile of books, all of which are Transfiguration related… or more specifically, the process of becoming an Animagus (surely, Potter is doing a project and isn’t stupid enough to attempt such dangerous magic on his own? And good riddance, if he is! He better not drag Sirius down with him, or they will be having words). Behind the tomes are two picture frames; in the first, the four ‘Marauders’ are sitting on the floor in the Common Room, Potter and Sirius engaged in a factitious arm wrestling match, while Lupin watches judgmentally and Pettigrew cheers them on. It takes watching the scene play out twice for Regulus to spot it; right before Sirius emerges victorious, Lupin delivers a sharp pinch to Potter’s thigh, smiling innocently when the Chaser turns to yell at him (he wonders if anyone else noticed Sirius’s blush when Lupin winked at him?). The second picture is of a triumphant Sirius and Potter draped all over each other following a Quidditch match, the pair beaming widely at the camera (to Regulus’s immense annoyance, he spots himself in the background of the photo, dejectedly headed towards the locker room after his team’s defeat - it must be from the Gryffindor-Slytherin matchup last year).
Ironically, it’s not Potter’s belongings that shock him, but his own brother’s. Sirius’s nightstand is, naturally, much tidier than his roommate’s. In fact, there’s only one large picture frame, though it displays three different images, Regulus featuring in two of them. The top right picture was from Christmas last year, Sirius capturing the moment Regulus opened the single best present he’s ever been given, while the top left was from the end of this summer, Sirius ordering Kreacher to take a picture of them modeling the starry robes they discovered in the attic weeks earlier (fortunately, the house elf took his task seriously, no doubt aware that Sirius would nag him endlessly until he was satisfied with the result). The larger picture at the bottom was a fairly basic one of his brother posing goofily with his friends, all four of them looking so fucking chuffed, it sent a pang of jealousy burning through him - Sirius was never that happy around him.
“He was so envious when you got the custom Blackstar from your parents,” Potter murmurs when he sees what’s captured Regulus’s attention.
The Slytherin feels his throat constrict as he watches his younger self hesitantly opening the trunk that disguised his true gift, his expression morphing from polite interest, to shock, before settling on unconstrained euphoria. To this day, Regulus regards his broomstick with the same sort of reverence as a mother looking at her newborn baby.
“Is that what my brother told you?” Regulus snorts. Figures.
“Er… yeah?”
“Sirius bought it for me,” he admits, unable to tear his gaze away from the photo.
Sweet Merlin, Regulus doesn’t think he’s ever been happier in his life than he had in that moment. The confusion would come later, the paranoia… was it a prank? Was the broom cursed? Why would Sirius, the brother who despised him, give him such a magnificent, one-of-a-kind gift? Fortunately, his fears were alleviated later that same day when they went to Black Manor to celebrate with their extended family, and without being asked, Sirius offered to demonstrate how superior the broom was, something he ‘learned from Quidditch Weekly’.
“WHAT ?!” Potter squints at him. “You’re lying… you’re… you’re the enemy! Like, no offense, but from a Quidditch perspective -”
Regulus flicks the Gryffindor in the forehead. “He doesn’t know I know, so keep it to yourself, would you?”
“How do you know?”
Regulus ticks the reasons off on his fingers. “One, I’m not an idiot. Two, I have eyes. Three, I use my brain.” He breaks into giggles when Potter grumbles, ‘They’re really the same person, aren’t they?’ “My parents are not proponents of Quidditch, they think such brutish sports are beneath us. They would never buy me a broom without my input, especially a custom-made one. I’d recognize my brother’s handwriting anywhere, it’s ghastly. Also, Sirius pitched an absolute fit that year, whinging about how we should be allowed to open one present each on Christmas Eve like 'other Pureblood children', and he just-so-happened to open this brand new camera the day before I’m gifted this amazing, utterly-brilliant, divine creation.” Has he mentioned that he really loves his broom? “And lastly, I signed all my gifts to him, besides the ugliest sweater money could buy -”
“He loves that sweater,” Potter interjects.
“I knew he would, it’s horrid. Anyways, I signed all my gifts to him, ‘from Mother’.” Regulus shrugs. “Our parents have been quite generous these last few years with Christmas and birthday gifts, very spot on in their selections.”
The Gryffindor shakes his head in dismay. “You two are ridiculous.” He laughs when Regulus whacks his arm, rather than trembling in fear. Ugh, he’s losing his touch, isn’t he?
Maybe you aren’t a Black after all, the snide voice in his head whispers.
“Why is your face doing that?” the younger tactlessly blurts when he’s no longer able to handle Potter staring at him with such… fondness, like he’s utterly delighted that Regulus has broken into his room at the crack of dawn for some yet-to-be-revealed reason. “I don’t like it, stop.”
“Don’t you think it’s kinda funny how up until recently,” Regulus nearly flinches when Potter reaches out to gently push a lock of hair off his face, “for years, we severely disliked each other. But things change, people change, and now here you are in my bed, all the way up in Gryffindor Tower, on an errand that doesn’t include my imminent death, telling me stories about your childhood.”
“Death is imminent for us all if you really think about it.” Regulus lifts his rose in the air. “And don’t get a big head, Potter, I still very much dislike you.”
“Do you?”
Does he?
“I’ve moved away from hatred,” Regulus painstakingly admits to ease his guilty conscience, after his dismissive words make Potter’s face fall ever-so-slightly, “what more do you want from me?”
“Hmm, I can think of a few things.”
It’s an innocuous statement, but there’s something in Potter’s tone that leads Regulus to foolishly saying, “Perhaps it’s better to show, rather than tell?”
“I can do that.” Slowly, agonizingly slow, he leans forward, hazel eyes searching gray ones, but Regulus allows his to flutter closed, meeting Potter halfway. Their lips connect again, an occurrence somehow becoming commonplace. It doesn’t make sense, they shouldn’t be doing this, but they are. And because they are, Regulus needs to ensure Potter understands something imperative to their situation.
Breaking the kiss, Regulus holds Potter’s chin with his fingers. “You understand that my brother cannot find out about this, right?” He should inquire as to what exactly ‘this’ is, but the words elude him. “He’s accepting in the context we’ve presented to him, but outside of that? Not gonna fly.”
“I don’t like lying,” Potter whispers, already sounding racked with guilt.
Oh, but Regulus does?
“Fine, then stop kissing me.”
Potter grabs his arm when Regulus tries to move away. “I can dislike lying and still do it… but don’t you feel bad?”
Oh, Regulus will feel bad later on, when all the pieces come raining down after it explodes in his face, but for now? What he has is too good to pass up.
This is also why boundaries are important! Never reveal your whole self to one person - not even Evan knows everything about Regulus, there’s this thing called privacy, and both Slytherins understand the importance of it. “Just because you don’t tell my brother every little facet of your life, it doesn’t mean you’re lying.”
The Gryffindor runs a hand through his hair, making it messier than ever. “That’s easy for you to say! You’re good at secrets, it’s probably genetic, but I crumble under the pressure, I’m not made for these sorts of mind games -”
“Potter!” Regulus doesn’t say anything else, because he doesn’t know what to say, but he knows what he wants. The older boy seems to understand, though, stopping mid-rant to kiss him with more urgency than ever before.
Regulus can’t hold back his pleased sigh when he finally gets to nibble on that plump bottom lip Potter’s always teasing him with, gently sucking it between his teeth. Potter’s soft groan seems obnoxiously loud in the quiet early morning hours, but Regulus doesn’t let it distract him. For once, his brain shuts off, stops the never-ending, relentless thinking it does, letting him simply bask in the sensation of his lips against Potter’s surprisingly soft ones, the silkiness of chronically untidy hair between his fingers, the firmness of his muscular, bare shoul - Oh Merlin!
He jerks backwards, almost throwing himself onto the floor in his haste to put some distance between them. “This is not… this is not what I came here for,” Regulus pants, struggling to control his breathing, heart racing in his chest. He wants to cover his face with his hands in a bid to escape the sight of Potter’s exposed, shirtless torso, but one, that would be humiliating, and two, completely pointless, since the image is now forever burned in his mind’s eye.
Why do you do these things to yourself? It doesn’t mean the same thing to him, you’re just desperate and easy. Potter would never admit it, might not even realize it himself, but he loves the thrill of sneaking behind Sirius’s back. Either that, or you’re a second-rate replacement for the Black he can’t have… perhaps it’s both.
Potter’s eyes widen, and he scoots further away from the Slytherin, readjusting his comforter so it once again covers everything below his chin. “I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have… this has all been very inappropriate of me -”
“We are both culpable,” Regulus interjects, though Potter doesn’t seem to hear him. “The blame for these transgressions does not reside solely on you.”
“Probably have terrible morning breath -”
“James, who are you talking to?” a mousy-voice asks from the bed closest to the door.
Again, he regrets his lack of forethought to cast a silencing charm.
The Chaser winces. “Just myself, Petey, go back to sleep.”
“Hey, James?” a gruffer voice calls from the other occupied bed. “Can you and yourself shut the fuck up, please? It’s too goddamn early for any of this shit. Mornings are bad enough without you losing your marbles on top of it.”
Here, here! Regulus mentally tips his hat to the only sane one of his brother’s friends.
“Actually, you know what, fuck you Remus, we do have a visitor,” Potter corrects with a huff. “Regulus has come all the way from the depths of the dungeons,” he sends the younger teen an apologetic look - whether it’s for announcing his presence or the antics of his friends is presently unclear, “so if we could please be polite and well-mannered for once, I’m sure our hospitality would go a long way.”
There’s a pregnant pause before the two voices shout in unison, “Oooh, Regulus!” and then break into hysterical guffaws.
“Yeah, in your dreams, Potter!” Pettigrew sing-songs, oblivious to how taken aback the Slytherin is at this turn of events. “He isn’t here, otherwise the intruder alarm would have gone off.”
“Actually,” Lupin says, amusement oozing from the one word alone, “it did, but I turned it off almost immediately, foolishly thinking we’d be able to go back to sleep. Apparently, my faith was misplaced.”
“REMUS!” Potter yells in outrage. With a wave of his wand, his curtains open the rest of the way, and Regulus hurriedly rises to his feet. “We have that safety alert for a REASON! What if it was someone else with nefarious plots in mind, hm? You would have doomed us all -”
Lupin’s own curtain is pulled to the side, meaning Regulus is once again exposed to a shirtless Gryffindor, albeit one whose torso is marred by several jagged scars; he silently prays his cheeks don’t flush. Dear Merlin, how can someone who appears so scrawny and frail actually be nothing but lean muscle under all those layers?! At least it explains why he’s such a capable fighter… actually, no it doesn’t.
“Oh relax, James, would you? I knew who it was.” He wiggles his nose, his eyes locked on his friend’s.
Regulus blanches, easily understanding the silent communication, considering it lacks any degree of subtlety. He showered last night, does he seriously smell that badly? His brother may not have told him, but his cousins surely wouldn’t allow him to walk around the castle -
“Potions accident,” Potter clarifies in a rush, interrupting Regulus’s internal panic. “Left Remus with an insanely good sense of smell.” The Slytherin wonders if that’s all it left Lupin with, but opts not to ask; he was raised with manners, after all. “One of the primary reasons he isn’t on the Quidditch team.”
Lupin lets out a disbelieving bark of laughter. “I’d imagine it’s actually because I can’t fly for shite.”
“I see.” Determining this conversation has gone drastically off course, Regulus redirects with, “If you would be so kind as to provide this ‘super important’,” he uses finger-quotes around the term for emphasis, “cloak my brother has requested, I will be on my way.”
The Gryffindors share several glances, this unspoken communication harder to translate.
Lupin frowns, looking worried. “Is everything alright?”
“It’s a family emergency,” Regulus says in his loftiest voice, his patience waning the longer he has to deal with Sirius’s brainless friends. “My brother is perfectly fine, but I am not at liberty to divulge any further details.”
It’s not your fucking business, you nosy buggers… maybe this is why Sirius warned him to be nice, because he knew his roommates would harass him for answers. Well, jokes on them, because Regulus won’t be assuaging their curiosity.
“Is it Smith again?” Pettigrew squeaks, his small watery eyes focused on the ground near Regulus’s feet.
“No.”
“Is anyone injured?” Lupin inquires more confidently than his companion, undeterred by Regulus’s rapidly deteriorating mood.
“Someone is about to be,” the younger teen growls under his breath. Louder, he responds, “No.”
Lupin’s lips quirk up, and the Slytherin mentally braces himself for another stupid, unnecessary question. “Would you like a cup of coffee before you go?”
Opening his mouth with the intention of snapping out something rude, Regulus pauses when his brain processes the words. “... er, what?”
The taller teen gestures to some contraption nestled into the middle of the bookcase. “It’ll take James a few minutes to get ready, so in the meantime, I can make you a mug?”
Tempting, but Regulus would like to leave as soon as possible… now, preferably, especially when Potter’s lips look like that; he’s got a feeling Lupin isn’t as dumb as he looks, and the last thing he needs is someone having blackmail material on him.
“I don’t need -”
Potter gapes at Regulus like he grew another head. “I’m coming with you, obviously! I’m sure I can be of assistance. While I get dressed, please let Remus show off his fancy coffee making skills that none of us appreciate,” the Chaser grins when Lupin mutters something about ‘uncultured swine’, “which as you can tell, saddens him greatly.”
Although he'd normally prefer to leave Lupin’s distress as is, Regulus admits the lack of caffeine in his system, combined with the unfortunate length of time he’s been awake, is something that requires correction. Immediately. “Fine, I will oblige your request. But do hurry, Potter, I haven’t got all day.”
Potter nods, but doesn’t move, the blanket still held up to his chin. “If you could, um, please turn around, thanks…” He doesn’t meet Regulus’s eyes, his skin flushing an even darker crimson.
Squashing his (very inappropriate) disappointment, Regulus can’t resist the urge to goad the older boy. “I didn’t take you for a prude, Potter, or do you sleep in the nude?” The Slytherin retreats to the ‘lounge area’, plopping down onto the couch that faces the bookshelf.
“I do NOT sleep in the nude!” Potter cries over the sound of the others cackling. “I was merely trying to be respectful. I didn’t take you for the type to swipe your nose at a display of proper manners.”
Regulus rolls his eyes. “A gentleman doesn’t make his guests wait… so, chop chop Potter, get a move on. Or I’m going to tell Sirius you said no, and then you can deal with his disappointment. Or anger. Or angry disappointment.”
“Aw, that’s mean.” Regulus can hear Potter’s pout, but he also hightails it into the lavatory, so hooray for small miracles.
“Is that a Muggle coffee brewer?” he ponders aloud when Lupin comes over and starts fiddling with the gadget. He possesses a limited amount of knowledge regarding such devices, thanks to the books Pandora has discreetly procured for him over the years. Although a Pureblood herself, her family is nowhere as strict or devoted to bloody purity as his own, and she both understands and supports his quest to gather knowledge on a mirage of topics, including ‘forbidden’ ones. “I thought they didn’t work at Hogwarts?”
Lupin hums affirmatively. “They usually don’t. It took him two months of constant vexation, but Sirius refused to let Muggle technology defeat him. For whatever reason, though, it only works in this exact spot.”
Regulus glares enviously at the Gryffindor’s back. Of all the tweaks his brother has made to his dorm room, adding a coffee maker wasn’t one of them. Fucking favoritism.
The freakishly tall Gryffindor unexpectedly glances over his shoulder, leaving Regulus unable to smooth out his expression before he’s caught. “Ah, I take it he hasn’t blessed you with one yet?” The Slytherin shakes his head, surprised Lupin correctly guessed the reason for his displeasure. “Knowing Sirius, I’m sure it’s due to some noble reason that makes sense only to him.”
And that… that’s a viable explanation, isn’t it? Regulus can hear it now, 'I’m not putting a coffee machine in your room, Reggie, you’d never leave!'
Lupin asks him how he likes his coffee prepared, and once finished, hands him an all black mug with silver, glittery words - We went to the moon, but all I got was this stupid mug.
“My brother’s idea of a joke?” Regulus carefully sips the liquid, pleased by how it’s the perfect temperature, exactly to his preference. “He’s so juvenile, I swear.”
The Gryffindor laughs softly, the fondness impossible to miss in his eyes. Bleh, gross. “Yeah, he was fascinated when I told him the Muggles went to the moon a few years ago.”
“WHAT?!” After a moment, Regulus remembers that Sirius’s friends possess the same immature sense of humor, including an enthusiasm for pulling pranks. “You almost got me, I’ll give you that.”
Taking a seat on the same couch Regulus claimed for himself, Lupin calmly explains the ‘space program’ the Muggles have, and how in the summer of 1969, two ‘astronauts’ walked on the moon. Curiosity piqued, Regulus asks a volley of questions to better understand this phenomenon, Lupin answering each and everyone with the patience of someone who’s accustomed to the disbelief of wizards.
“Huh.” Taking another sip of his coffee, the Slytherin is left at a loss for what else to say. Unfortunately, his general uneasiness leads to him articulating his next question with less delicacy than he’d prefer. “Are you being nice to me in hopes I’ll turn around and speak favorably about you to my brother? Because if that’s the case, Lupin, I propose we skip over the remaining pleasantries and switch to sitting here in silence until Potter completes his concept of a morning grooming ritual.”
“I’m being nice to you because you’re our guest,” Lupin responds neutrally; if he’s offended by Regulus’s remark, he doesn’t let on. “And despite what your brother and a good portion of the student body of Hogwarts believe, I hold no ill will towards you, and never have. Whatever you say to Sirius about this interaction is between the two of you, and it is neither my intention nor desire to force you into the middle of our quarrel.”
“Oh,” Regulus murmurs, lowering his gaze to the plush maroon carpet underneath his feet. Whoops. “You have my apologies, then. Um, it’s not been the greatest morning, truthfully.”
He mentally berates himself for adding the last part, Lupin doesn’t deserve an explanation for his behavior given all that’s happened the last week or so. But still, the Gryffindor’s been exceptionally hospitable, and considering the circumstances, Regulus isn’t confident he would have been able to do the same.
The mildly uncomfortable silence is broken by a large crash, followed quickly by a furious, “REMUS JOHN LUPIN!!!! WHY ARE YOUR SHOES IN THE LOO?!”
The older boy grimaces. “Oops… heh, feel free to help yourself to any of the food in the cold box.”
“REMUS!!!!!” Pettigrew’s panicked voice cries. “There’s blood!”
“I’m coming!” Lupin shouts back. “I’ll uh, just go take care of that.” With one last apologetic look, he rushes away to help his shrieking friends.
Grateful for a moment alone to gather himself, Regulus uses it wisely, leaping to his feet to explore whatever he can within the time provided… his stomach grumbles, making his priorities clear. Digging through the cold box, another upgrade Sirius ‘forgot’ to add to Regulus’s room, he finds a container way in the back labeled, ‘Sirius Black’s Brilliant-Bad-Day-Begone Brownies!!’ and well… this constitutes as a no good, very bad day, doesn’t it?
Don’t mind if I do, Regulus thinks to himself, looking down at the bite-sized spherical brownies. He carefully sinks his teeth into one, almost groaning at how fucking fantastic it tases - who knew Sirius could cook?! Inhaling the rest, Regulus then shoves two more in his mouth, wishing he could sit and savor the taste. After shamelessly eating another handful, he hurriedly places the container back in its original location when he hears the door to the loo opening. Grabbing a blueberry muffin, Regulus turns around to see a frazzled Lupin exiting the bathroom with a bundle of clothing in his hands, which he uncaringly tosses onto his bed.
“Everything alright?” Regulus asks, taking a bite of the muffin to avoid suspicion when he notices Lupin inhaling deeply.
It could be him taking a deep breath after dealing with his chaotic friends, but Regulus has heard Severus’s theories about the Gryffindor, what he thinks the taller, scarred teen is really ‘sick’ with… up until this moment, the younger Slytherin never believed it. There’s no way Dumbledore would allow a werewolf to attend Hogwarts… okay, the simpering old coot might, but would the school board allow his enrollment to go through? Very unlikely, unless they didn’t know.
Curious, very curious.
“James cut his hand on the tile when he tripped.” Lupin smothers a smile, heading back to the brewer Regulus might bribe Potter to steal for him. If Sirius can figure out how to get it to work, so can Pandora. “Tiny scratch, but Peter isn’t the best with blood, and while James is generally the most patient out of us, that evaporates into thin air when he’s in a rush.”
“Ah.” Regulus searches for another topic, wishing once again he was better at socializing like his brother. “Is that your book?” He points to the novel on the side table. “Is it space related?”
“Yes and no… it’s called The Lathe of Heaven,” Lupin reveals, returning to his previous perch next to Regulus, now with a fresh mug for himself; this one is all white with the words, ‘The only good mornings are the ones I sleep through’ and wow… Regulus has never related to something so much in his life. “It’s a Muggle science fiction novel about a man who wakes up one day to discover his dreams have the ability to alter reality.”
Regulus internally shudders; he wouldn’t want his dreams becoming reality… at least most of them. “And how does that work out for him?”
“Not very well,” Lupin admits, scrunching his nose. “Power like that comes with a high chance for misuse, though not necessarily from the person who has it. But then, should one person have the ability to play god?... to make decisions for the entire world?”
The Slytherin reaches for his coffee again, his mouth weirdly dry all of a sudden. “I suppose that could be problematic depending on who gained control of it. But why must the person with this gift share his ability with the world? Why can’t he just change his own reality?”
“To have power like that,” the Gryffindor counters, “wouldn’t the right thing be to improve the lives of others, besides his own? Think of what that could mean - no more disease, no more poverty, no more wars. A perfect world.”
“Someone will always have it better than another.” Regulus drains the last of his cup, thankful when Lupin asks if he’d like more, as if the answer wasn’t obvious. “But then again, reality is all about perception, is it not? What even is ‘perfection’? Is my perfect world the same as yours? Just because my circumstances seem better than someone else's on the outside, between being rich, hailing from a powerful family -”
“Being good looking?” Lupin smirks when Regulus hesitates, handing him his refilled cup.
The Slytherin inclines his head, his answer delayed while he enjoys the glorious first sip. “I was going to say ‘receiving magical training from a young age’, though yours works too. But do all those things make my reality better than another’s?”
“Do they?” Lupin asks evenly, green eyes focused solely on the younger Slytherin. “Are you happy, Regulus?”
“I… I think so?” Regulus stammers, insanely warm all of a sudden, like he’s sitting next to a roaring fireplace. “No one has ever asked me that before.” Years of training in suppressing his emotions allows him to ignore his discomfort, at least for now. “So, is happiness the purpose in life? What is happiness?”
Lupin shrugs, finally glancing away. “I’d wager it differs for everyone.”
Their silence now is more comfortable than previous ones. Regulus gets lost in his head, mulling over Lupin’s question… is he happy? He was honest earlier when he said he thinks he is, but he doesn’t know for sure, and not knowing something bothers Regulus more than he could ever describe in words.
What brings him happiness?
There’s Quidditch, of course, and flying in general, his problems left on the ground as he soars through the open sky on a broom that anticipates what he wants, sometimes before he realizes it himself. There’s his frequent letters with Newt Scamander, who is not only consistent and predictable, two qualities Regulus greatly admires in a person, but undoubtedly the coolest person he’s ever met. There’s his trips to Black Manor, less frequent now that he’s away at Hogwarts for three-quarters of the year, his time split between the expansive library, the gorgeous, sprawling gardens, and at night time, stargazing on the roof. Speaking of libraries, he finds enjoyment in books of all sorts (including Muggle ones, not that he can admit it to most), whether it be fictional or non, his mind always ready to escape into the pages of a wondrous world, to learn something simply for the sake of knowing.
He thinks of his friends, of snuggling into Evan’s side while they both read the same book, pausing between each chapter to discuss what’s occurred thus far, how he can always count on Evan’s support, sometimes loud, sometimes quiet, but always there; he thinks of Barty’s contagious laughter, how he’ll say outrageous things simply to see Regulus’s reaction, how he never tires of dragging his two introverted friends out of their shells; he thinks of the many nights the three have spent together in their dorm, trading dreams and desires for the future, sharing worries they’ve never spoken aloud, like how they feel doomed to fall short of the expectations placed upon them, worries that are sometimes so heavy, they’re nearly suffocating, how their burdens always seem lighter after such talks; he thinks of how some of his favorite nights are when they sneak Pandora into their dorm, the Prefects either absent or in a generous mood, how he’ll go to bed with an aching stomach from laughing so hard; he thinks of walks through the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest with his most optimistic friend, Pandora pointing out remarkable things he would have never noticed, lost in his head as he tends to be; he thinks of the twins, how on the morning of his first ever Quidditch game, his ‘adoptive brothers’ pulled him to the side to wish him luck and say they’ll be secretly cheering for him even though they were competing against him, how when they realized he was seconds away from passing out, they talked him down from a full-blown panic attack, uncaring that they were helping ‘the enemy’, how they never shy away from flying with him on weekends, their friendship with the younger Slytherin more important to them than stupid house rivalries.
He thinks of his family, his brother, who goes out of his way to tell Regulus stories to make him smile, both true and untrue, how Sirius always encourages him to try new things, nudging him out of his comfort zone while still respecting his boundaries, how even when they weren’t on good terms, Sirius had Regulus’s back in his own way, always barging into his life when his sibling needed him most; he thinks of his cousins, Narcissa and Andromeda, who fuss and fret over him, but are always around to lend an ear whenever he seeks them out, leaving him more at ease when he returns to his room; he thinks of Bellatrix, his oldest cousin, who teaches him new, complex magic they would never learn in school, who bluntly tells him things without sugar coating or worrying if he can handle it; he thinks of Grandmother Melania, who is both no nonsense and incredibly fun at the same time, the one adult in his life who sees Regulus as he actually is, not who she thinks he should be. There’s also his non-human friends; Kreacher, Pipsy, the Grey Lady, Wrath, and even Mrs. Norris, who each have a place in his heart.
He doesn’t think of his other family members, especially not his parents; he loves them, undeniably, but they don’t bring him happiness. The years he spent fighting with his brother slowly led him to realize that Grimmauld Place only felt like a home because of his close bond with Sirius (and his friendship with Kreacher, of course); without his sibling, Grimmauld Place is nothing more than a place he lives for a few months every year.
“Yeah!” Regulus says out of the blue, responding to the question his brother’s roommate asked some-odd minutes ago. “You know what Remus… I am happy.” The room swims back into focus, and he jerks back, startled to find James’s face inches from his own.
“That’s… uh… good to hear,” James hesitantly says, straightening back up, Remus hovering worriedly over his shoulder, “but Regulus, are you feeling alright? I’ve been calling your name for a minute straight. Literally.”
Taking stock of his body, Regulus realizes that yes, he is feeling alright… more than alright, actually. If he had to put a word to it, he’d say - euphoric.
“I am more than alright, though I thank you kindly for your concern.” Standing up, the Slytherin’s lips form into a wide, giddy smile. What a great time to be alive! “Are we ready to depart? Much to do, I'm afraid, so we best get to it. It would be a crime to waste a single second of such a wondrous day!”
The Gryffindors share a look Regulus cannot interpret, but he’s not bothered by it. Life’s too short to constantly be overwrought with worry. He prefers to look on the brighter side of things.
Pausing when he arrives at the door, Regulus turns back around with the most serious look he can muster. “Remember lads, the sun is a daily reminder that we too can rise again from the darkness, that we too can shine our own light. Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.” Unable to maintain his severe expression any longer, he winks at the three fifth-years. “Have a splendid day!”
“Lads?” Peter echoes from somewhere in the room. “Splendid?”
Throwing the door open, Regulus bounds down the stairs, letting his feet take him wherever he’s meant to go.
“Oi, wait for me!” A hand touches his shoulder right as he reaches the portrait hole. Instead of shrugging it off, the Regulus wraps his arm around the person’s waist. “Uh… hi… again.”
Pulling him closer, Regulus basks in the warmth of the Chaser’s body against his own - something else to add to my happiness list, he thinks blissfully. He could stay like this forever. “Hiya, James.”
“Ummm…” The Gryffindor blinks several times, like he’s in dire need of an adjustment to his glasses. Perhaps a trip to Madam Pomfrey is in order? “Are you sure you’re feeling okay, Reg?”
“We’re together, are we not?” Momentarily distracted by the way water droplets fall one-by-one from damp hair onto muscular shoulders, it quickly becomes apparent that James dressed in a hurry - his tie is done up incorrectly, and only the top button of his robe fastened. Silly boy, Regulus thinks fondly, doesn’t he know life is better unrushed? “I always feel okay when I’m with you.”
“Oh…” James squeaks, before turning his head to smother a cough into his shoulder. A trip to Madam Pomfrey is definitely in order… James won’t be getting sick on his watch! “Good, uh, I’m glad, Regulus… that you feel that way, I mean. Because I do too! Feel okay when I’m with you, I mean.”
“Well, since we both agree we feel good when we’re together, where are we headed?” Regulus’s gaze darts towards the portrait hole, images of all the potential things they could do filling his mind’s eye. “The day is young, and life is so full of possibilities… I admit, it’s overwhelming to choose what to do first!” His mind lights with a brilliant idea. “We could snog again? That would be delightful, would it not?”
James’s complexion takes on a feverish hue. “Er… yes, it would be delightful,” his tone makes it sound like anything but, “Except I just think, um… we shouldn’t do that, at least not right now.”
“You don’t want to kiss me anymore?” Regulus’s good mood plummets at the rejection. “Did I do something wrong?... or is there someone else?” He bets it’s Sirius. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?”
With a fervent shake of his head, James rushes to soothe his worries. “No, no, you did nothing wrong, and there’s no one else, okay? Promise. But don’t we need to meet your brother for some family emergency?”
It is Sirius, he knew it! That should probably bother Regulus more than it does, but eh.
“Oh yes, you’re right.” Entwining their fingers, Regulus marvels at the way their hands fit perfectly together. Like they were made for each other. “That seems important. Just let me know if you change your mind, yeah?”
Walking side-by-side with James Potter is lovely, Regulus decides minutes later when they’re strolling through the halls, mentally adding it to his happiness list. He can’t wait to share his observations with Remus later! Readjusting so their arms are looped together, Regulus starts whistling some tune Sirius sang in the shower last night, totally fascinated by the way the lights in the corridor morph into different shapes as they pass. He spots a a basilisk, a giant dog, a merperson, and a trident before his attention is captured by something even more engaging.
“How has your day been?” James’s arm suddenly tightens around Regulus’s own. “Wait, no Regulus, this way.”
“Let’s see… my day is going spectacularly right now!” All of the lighting in the hallway seems to collect around James, creating a glowing halo above his head. It reminds Regulus of the images Pandora showed him once, of majestic beings the Muggles called ‘angels’. “But I must confess, it started out rather rough, waking up all wet and sticky with my brother half on top of me. He’s quite heavy these days, you know.”
Their forward progress abruptly comes to a halt. “WHAT?!”
“Oh, it’s no big deal, it happened a lot more often when we were younger.” Regulus waves a hand dismissively. “Truth be told, I felt rather nostalgic by the end of it, and I do suppose there are worse ways to wake up. But if it brings you any comfort, such unpleasantries only happen to me when Sirius is in my bed.”
The Chaser’s mouth opens and closes several times, before he finally mutters, “Please explain, because right now, I am feeling zero comfort.”
“My brother has always liked his pranks, you see,” Regulus says with a shrug. Surely, James understands that by now. “And my cousins are his favorite targets. Since we share the same bed when we visit our relatives, I tend to get caught in the crossfire of their revenge.”
James heaves a hefty sigh, “Oh, thank Godric.”
“Can I please just -” Unable to handle it any longer, Regulus steps closer to straighten out the Gryffindor’s tie, James holding perfectly still throughout the process. Without being asked, he swiftly returns the favor by reverting the Slytherin’s robes back to their proper colors.
“What did he do this time?” James asks when they start walking again. “Sirius, I mean.”
Regulus goes on to explain what he remembers from the morning, how Narcissa thought Sirius cursed her, except he didn’t, but it’s okay! Regulus assures James when he sees his troubled look, because his brother has a master plan to fix everything. He’s clever like that.
“But what exactly happened to Narcissa?” James asks with furrowed brows.
Good question, but the Slytherin is distracted from answering when he sees Sirius leaning against a column down below in the Entrance Hall, looking both classy and roguish, like he’s untroubled and above everything happening around him. It’s been ages since Regulus has seen his brother, and he doesn’t bother to quell his excitement.
“Siri!” he squeals, unraveling his arm from James’s. Racing down the stairs, his momentum causes him to accidentally barrel into Sirius with greater force than intended, but the column prevents them from tumbling to the ground. Wrapping his arms and legs around his older brother, Regulus looks into gray eyes so similar to his own. “Oh, how I missed you! Being apart from you is dreadful, the absolute worst thing ever, I just love you so much, big brother.”
Sirius lets out a puff of air when Regulus squeezes him with all his might. “Merlin and Morgana, Reggie, how much caffeine have you had?!”
“Just enough,” Regulus responds, releasing his brother, though not before placing a big smooch on his forehead and a more delicate one on his nose. “Life itself is a caffeine rush, don’t you think?”
Sirius glares at someone over his shoulder. “JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER… WHAT. THE. FUCK?!”
The boy in question holds his hands up placatingly. “Mate, I legitimately don’t know, I swear.” Regulus plucks one out of the air, entwining their fingers together once more. “He was fine when he arrived, sassy as he always is, but I left him for a bit to take a shower. When I was ready to go, he was on the couch, staring into space. Took me a minute to get him to snap out of it, and since then, he’s as chipper as can be.”
“James,” Sirius growls, sounding like the stray dog in Hogsmeade that Regulus sometimes sees. “Regulus has never, in his fourteen years of life, been ‘chipper’... it’s unheard of! When I was ten, I almost failed one of our tutor’s exams because my Cheering Charm had ZERO effect on him… I only passed because Kreacher popped in at the right moment.”
Regulus drops James’s hand to clap approvingly. “You’re a genius, Sirius, well done.”
“Uh, maybe Remus really does brew a phenomenal cup of coffee?”
“He does! Very delicious, much impressed.”
Sirius’s eye twitches, a stress reaction that Regulus has always found deeply amusing. “You let him serve my brother ANYTHING?! JAMES, HE HATES ME, HE OBVIOUSLY POISONED -”
“SHHH!!” James throws his free hand over the other Gryffindor’s mouth. “He doesn’t hate you, nor would he poison Regulus -”
Wait, what?!
“Am I going to die?” Regulus asks worriedly, bottom lip quivering. “For real this time?”
“No!” James reaches for the Slytherin’s hands, but he clutches them protectively to his chest. “No, of course not -”
There’s only one person Regulus trusts with this sort of thing. “Brother?”
The two Gryffindors exchange a series of heated glances before Sirius says, “You’re going to be fine, Reggie, okay? I’ll sort you out once I do this thing for Narcissa.”
His brother really is the best, how did Regulus ever get so lucky? “You’re gonna save me again, aren’t you?”
“Uh, heh, what was that?” Sirius asks after a beat of silence, fiddling with one of his dangling earrings. So shiny. “Not sure I’ve ever -”
“This summer?” Regulus giggles, rolling his eyes. “You’re so forgetful, silly. But I haven’t forgotten.”
Sirius exhales in a rush. “Right, you’re right. But that won’t be the case, because you’re not dying.”
“I mean, technically, every second that passes brings us closer to -”
“Wanna help me bring someone else’s Death Day closer?” Sirius interrupts his brother with a teasing grin.
“Always!” Regulus agrees eagerly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “That sounds like so much fun, it’ll be just like old times.”
“What?!”
Using his pointer finger, Regulus smooths out one of the creases in James’s forehead.
Sirius says something to his friend about keeping an eye on Regulus, something that makes him feel very warm and fuzzy on the inside. Their words wash over him like a cool gust of wind on a summer’s eve, and he zones out for a few moments, content to simply… exist.
A hand on his cheek jolts him out of his pleasant haze. “I’ll be right back, Reggie, okay? Stay with James -”
No, no, no, NO!
“You’re… you’re leaving me? You p-promised to stay this time, brother, have I done something wrong?”
Every positive emotion Regulus has drains away, the world around him becoming desolate, devoid of color, meaningless, he’s adrift in an infinite ocean of despair -
“REGULUS!”
“My friends!” he cries, knocking his brother to the side so he can have a better view of Evan and Barty striding towards them. They look rather peeved, which just won’t do.
Barty’s longer legs means he reaches Regulus first. “Why did your cousins kick us out of our room, especially if you’re… OOOF!”
Like he did with his brother, Regulus clings tightly to his friend, supporting most of his own weight by wrapping his legs around Barty’s slender waist. Regulus gently squishes Barty’s cheeks between his hands, and then leans forward to plant a chaste kiss on his puckered lips.
“Well, hello to you too, handsome,” Barty murmurs, his eyes searching Regulus’s face. “What’s gotten into you today?”
“Am I not allowed to show my love to my two best friends?” Regulus whines. “I missed you both so much! Didn’t you miss me, too?”
A few seconds pass in silence before the sandy-haired teen says, “‘Course we did. And we’re always open to receiving your love, Reg.”
“Aww, don’t frown, darling,” Regulus purrs, dropping another kiss on each of his friend’s freckled cheeks before hopping back down. “You’re much too young for such angst.”
“Pot calling the kettle black,” Barty mutters, while Regulus moves to greet Evan next.
His feet stay firmly on the ground, unsure if his shorter friend could hold him… they’ll have plenty of time to experiment later. When Regulus eventually pulls back, Evan’s lips are a more vibrant red than usual. “Uhhh, wow, good morning. Everything alright, Reg?”
“That is so playing favorites!” Barty complains with a laugh. “Why does Evan get a proper kiss?”
Their shorter friend lifts his nose in the air. “Clearly, he loves me more.”
“No! I love you equally.” With a giggle, Regulus is about to leap on Barty again when James blocks his path.
“Nope, nope, sorry, Sirius will kill me…”
“No need to be jealous, cutie,” Regulus teases, lightly pinching his cheek. “The offer is still on the table, ya know.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Barty eyes the two with something akin to suspicion, but surely, that can’t be right. What’s there to be suspicious about? They’re all friends! “And what offer would that be?”
“There’s no offer -”
“To snog!” the Seeker cheerfully reminds him, though he can’t help but grumble under his breath about ‘forgetful Gryffindors’. Could this be something Madam Pomfrey can fix, too? Or maybe cousin Narcissa - she is brilliant after all.
“You and Potter are snogging?!” the taller Slytherin immediately growls. “Um, since when?!”
“Time is a man-made concept humans invented to bring order and meaning to the mystical world they found themselves in. It’s hard to say -”
“Regulus,” Evan huffs.
“If it makes you feel better, he’s not as good as you, Ev,” Regulus placates his rapidly angering friend. “Of course, I’m sure with practice, he can improve! But as of now, you’re loads better.”
His honest critique is met with a chorus of competing voices.
From Barty: “I knew you guys were lying last year when you claimed the reason for the suddenly closed bed curtains was so you could read together ‘without any distractions’... I wasn’t the distraction, you two were!”
From James: “You’re fooling around with Rosier?!”
From Evan: “So much for keeping that between us…”
He hastily attempts to backtrack when he realizes how angry everyone is with him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset everyone. You’re both equally skilled at snogging, and I’m sure Barty is just as good -”
“I’m better, thank you very much.”
“How long have you and Rosier been fooling around for?” James repeats, jaw clenched so tightly that Regulus fears for his teeth. “Is there someone else?” he adds mockingly. “Should have guessed it was because you had someone else.”
Regulus wilts under the scorn, but Evan, the best friend a bloke could have, leaps to his defense. “We are not ‘fooling around', Potter, and regardless, what Regulus and I do in our free time is absolutely none of your business! Unless you’re his secret boyfriend? Or maybe you want to be his secret boyfriend?”
James looms over the younger Slytherin. “You know what I think?” Jeez, he really is tall, huh… or maybe Evan’s just short... both? “You pretend he’s Sirius whenever you’re together, don’t you?”
“Excuse me?!”
“Oh, please! Your infatuation with Regulus’s brother is obvious to everyone within a ten kilometer radius.” That was supposed to be a secret, grr! “Such a shame he doesn’t see you the same way."
Evan’s lip curls, his cheeks flushing with color. “Speaking from experience, are you, Potter? Can’t have the older Black brother, so you take advantage of the one person who’s the spitting image of him?”
“Please stop being mean -”
“I do not have a crush on Sirius!” James shouts over Regulus’s protests. Barty hurriedly casts a muffling charm around their group. “And I am NOT taking advantage of Regulus, fuck you, Rosier!”
“You know what I think?” Evan echoes, getting right in the Gryffindor’s face. “I think it’s rather curious how you’re always involved when something happens to Regulus. Trying to play the knight in shining armor, are you?”
“I’m not -”
The younger Slytherin laughs darkly. “Well, guess what, Potter? Regulus doesn’t need to be saved by you, he needs saving from you.”
Regulus clutches desperately to Barty’s robes. “Make them stop!”
Notes:
Hehe, poor Regulus, house points to anyone who catches where he went wrong ;)
Next few chapters will be from Sirius's perspective!
((Totally unrelated, but I did just post two chapters from my new WIP Jegulus/Wolfstar story called 'it was by dеsign, 'cause baby, i'm a mastermind' if you wanna check it out! It's basically Reg/James plotting to save Sirius from making terrible choices, Black brother feels, oblivious James figuring out he's got a massive crush on Reg, confident Regulus, and of course, jealous-James making a mess of things))
Chapter 18: A Sirius-Plan Goes Seriously Awry
Notes:
Our first Sirius chapter! But this one is still pretty lighthearted... the next will get rather serious again ;)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
After checking that the coast is clear, Sirius tosses the borrowed Invisibility Cloak over his head. Once he’s confident he’s completely covered, he pats his pocket one last time to confirm the beaker of potion is still there. Ready as he’ll ever be, Sirius approaches the giant painting of a fruit bowl and tickles the green pear with probably a tad more force than necessary; regardless, the doorknob still appears, and he slips inside the chaos of the Hogwarts Kitchens.
Originally, his intention was to use James as a decoy for this ‘prank’, having operated under the assumption his best mate would follow Regulus down from Gryffindor Tower. James wouldn’t care if Regulus learned the truth about his ‘super important’ cloak, but a mix of curiosity and concern meant he’d also want to know why it was needed. Sirius would bet the entirety of the gold in the Black vaults at Gringotts that his brother refused to tell James what exactly they were up to, at least the parts he knew; Regulus’s strong, unwavering, naïve loyalty to their family would guarantee his silence.
Sirius was right about his best mate and his sibling, no surprise there. What he didn’t expect… but should have… was Remus Lupin finding a way to harm his baby brother on such short notice. Real pain was emotional pain, that’s the kind of pain that lasts - everyone knows that. Why waste time hurting Sirius physically? That type of pain fades in hours, maybe days, quickly forgotten. The surest way to hurt Sirius, how to really make an impression, was to go for the one person he vowed to always protect. Of course Remus would do something to Regulus the second he was within his sights, no big brother around watching his back. It’s the lowest of lows, but Grandmother always said outsiders weren’t to be trusted. Sirius would be more careful in the future.
So, instead of helping Sirius pull off this ingenious prank (not to toot his own horn, but he’s outdone himself this time), James is back in the Entrance Hall playing babysitter to an innocent Reggie poisoned by Light Magic… or something of the sort. Leaving Sirius completely alone, save for the hundreds of house elves running every which way while they finish preparing for breakfast.
You should be the one who’s with Regulus right now, not pawning him off on James so you can help Narcissa keep her status as Slytherin Ice Princess or whatever asinine thing they’re calling her these days, his inner voice snaps. Why do you care if she gets knocked down a peg or two, serves her right! You’re trying to be a good cousin, yet it’s making you an awful brother, even more deplorable than usual. How could you send him to Gryffindor Tower on his own? Remus hates you now, absolutely despises you, yet you never stopped to consider that he’d figure out a way to really get to you? You might as well have poisoned Regulus yourself!
Without someone to lure the house elves away from the house tables, Sirius should, in theory, pay more attention to what he’s doing. But he doesn’t, too caught up in his thoughts of, ‘Why the fuck am I doing this when Regulus needs me right now? ’ Thanks to his preoccupation, the potion only makes it into a few dishes at the Hufflepuff table when Sirius unexpectedly collides with one of the tiny creatures, the impact hard enough to cause him to stumble back a few steps.
Fortunately, he maintains his grip on the beaker, doesn’t spill a single drop.
Unfortunately, the Invisibility Cloak gets stuck under his foot when he tries to regain his balance, yanking it halfway off his body.
Wide, round eyes blink up at him, the elf he bumped into staring at the exposed section of his face in shock. The situation is salvageable, he can fix this, Sirius just needs to tug the cloak -
The house elf lets out a piercing, ear-splitting scream, and then promptly bursts into tears.
“The Hogwarts Kitchen is no place for students!” a familiar voice shrieks from behind him. Sirius hastily rips the cloak off himself, shoving it back into his bag. “Especially right before meal times… oh, of course Sirius Black is the cause of this ruckus.” He turns around to face his brother’s second-favorite house elf with a pout… does she need to say his name like he’s some sort of criminal?! “Back to your pranks and shenanigans, me sees?”
Sirius shakes his head, thankful he had the forethought to pin his long hair up in a bun this morning. “Pipsy, I swear, I’m not playing a prank… okay, I mean technically I am, but it’s for a good cause!”
Another house elf leads the sobbing one away, the upset creature muttering something about evil omens for bad elves. Sirius winces when Pipsy’s expression becomes more indignant than it already was. He’s certainly not opposed to telling all of the Hogwarts house elves about his cousin’s dirty little secret, not if it gets him out of this mess.
“Always up to no good, you are! We house elves know all about the sorts of mischief you and your friends like to pull on unsuspecting students, teachers, even us elves!”
“Pipsy, please -”
With a snap of her fingers, the beaker in his hands disappears and rematerializes in her own. “We has work to be getting back to, Sirius Black. You can tell your tall-tales to the boss, see what he thinks.”
Thinking about it… Dumbledore would probably be pretty amused by the whole thing, so long as he could prove the potion does what he says it should (except that’s actually a challenge, because there are no flaws on Sirius’s skin for the potion to change… being perfect is just so hard sometimes!). Then, there’s the pesky bit about explaining how he knows Narcissa had an issue to begin with; can’t admit to sleeping in Regulus’s dorm, that would raise a lot more issues than his current predicament. Hmm… he’ll just say he’s having a laugh, changing everyone’s pimples and freckles into something interesting and more appealing to look at. Community service, if you will.
But Pipsy doesn’t usher him out of the kitchen. Rather, he’s led to the far corner of the room, towards an enormous brick fireplace. He assumes they’re going to Floo to the Headmaster’s office, but as soon as he steps on the rug in front of the mantle, another house elf appears… or perhaps he was already there, and Sirius can now see him? Strange, very strange.
The ‘boss’ house elf is ancient compared to the others in the kitchen, far older than any of the Black elves currently living. Blimey, he probably came with the castle itself! Seated in a rocking chair that faces the house tables, his skin, riddled with age spots, sags off his skeletal frame, and his bony shoulders round forward like he spent a millennium hunched over a sink. But the most jarring part of his appearance is the cloudy whiteness of his eyes, reminding Sirius of one of the elves that used to work in Black Manor; her condition was only half as bad, but it caused enough issues with her vision that she was ‘honorably’ beheaded per Black family tradition, her head mounted on a plaque in the foyer of the manor.
“Mr. Brolly, sir, this is Sirius Black,” Pipsy introduces, carefully placing the container into the elderly elf’s hand. “He was trying to dump this mysterious elixir into the food we house elves worked hard to cook this morning.”
“It’s harmless!” Sirius cries, crossing his arms over his chest. If he engages in a glare-off with Regulus’s little elf friend, well, who’s to know?... she wins, so it’s not like he’ll be saying anything.
Brolly closes his eyes and sniffs the potion, a serene smile forming on his face. “An excellent brew, Sirius Black. You’ve quite the talent, your relatives must be proud -”
“Not,” Sirius mutters under his breath. Most of his family would much rather he brew darker, shadier potions if he was going to excel in the subject - otherwise, what’s the point?
“Although, no one more so than your Grandmother. She taught you this recipe, I presume?” Without waiting for a response, how the fuck do you know that, Brolly beckons over four house elves. There’s a sharp crack of magic, and then three additional containers hover in the air, all filled to the brim with the golden potion… which shouldn’t even be possible! You can’t just duplicate a recipe like that, it goes against the fundamental laws of Potion Brewing. “Each of you grab a beaker and then choose a house table. Add three drops of potion to as many dishes and beverages as possible. And of course -”
Sweet Godric, what is happening?! This isn’t how this is supposed to go… not that he’s complaining… but it’s suspicious… very suspicious.
“Don’t forget to stir!” the four chime in unison.
They march off without complaint, but Pipsy gasps in outrage, looking thunderstruck by this reversal. “But, sir!”
Brolly waves a hand dismissively. “No harm done, little elf. This will bring some much needed joy to the students. And on that note, one student in particular is already having an unexpectedly fantastic day… would you be so kind as to keep an eye on young Regulus for the moment while I speak to his brother, please? Too much of a good thing isn’t always the best thing.” Yep, too good to be true, called it, didn’t he?
Pipsy pops away with a furious crack (who knew that was possible? Not even Kreacher did that when it was just him and Sirius), stink-eye trained on him the entire time.
“So, what troubles you child?” Brolly asks, weathered fingers steepled together under his chin.
First: What doesn’t trouble Sirius would be the better question.
Second: Why is this even a topic of conversation?
Third: Can he leave now?
“Pardon?”
“May I take a guess?” Answering in the affirmative, Sirius prays the old coot hurries it up so he can get back to his brother. "For over two years, you’ve wondered if distancing yourself from your brother was a mistake... yet now you wonder if you're making another mistake by reconnecting."
It’s not phrased as a question.
Sirius recoils, never once expecting the conversation to go down this route. Choosing Regulus is not the problem, his brother is never the wrong choice. But choosing Regulus means choosing the other Blacks too - they are the problem. And so what if Andromeda is now chumming it up with a Muggleborn Hufflepuff? And so what is Narcissa is not only friends with a Muggleborn Gryffindor, but wants to break centuries of tradition for women in their family by getting a job (yes, she’ll be married by that time, but she’s still expected to abide by the values of the family she was born into - good luck to her if there’s ever anything that contrasts with the values of her husband’s family). And so what if both of his cousins have actually been rather cool these last few days, having his back like that when they all thought McGonagall was going to send him packing back to his house table? And so what if Uncle Alphard and Uncle Gio are apparently long term romantic partners? Sirius is fifteen, almost sixteen, and he had no idea! How helpful is their ‘precedent’ for him? The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black is a toxic, soul-crushing cesspool of lunatics, whose passion for Dark Magic nearly killed Sirius’s brother twice this summer, and he wants no fucking part of it!
"Let me tell you something I've learned in the many, many years I've been in this world,” Brolly continues, unfazed by Sirius’s lack of response. “An individual is exactly that - one of a kind. Even amongst house elves, each and every one is unique. They have their own ideas on how to do things, thoughts on right and wrong. Some express their beliefs openly, some keep their opinions to themselves, even when asked, while others land on a more middle ground."
“But they all want to serve wizards,” Sirius points out, foot tapping impatiently against the stone ground. A brief glance over his shoulder shows the elves methodically pouring and stirring as ordered. He inhales slowly, willing his muscles to relax on the exhale. Just play along for a bit longer, then he’ll be free.
“Most do, but there are always 'oddballs' in every group. Did you know there's an interview process for house elves prior to employment at Hogwarts?” Why the fuck would Sirius know that? Regulus probably does, a voice in the back of his head whispers. Although, it would be rather funny if it turned out that he knew something about the creatures that their resident expert did not. “We've denied applications from elves who are some of the best and most efficient workers I've ever seen. Can you guess why?”
No! He doesn’t know, ugh, is this his punishment? Mental torture?
Sirius tosses out the first thing he thinks of. “They’re still loyal to the family who gave them the boot?”
Brolly shakes his head. “We only accept those who truly care about the students they’ll be serving. We would rather have an elf who will stop to comfort a distraught first-year sobbing on the ground of the Astronomy Tower in the middle of a frigid winter night,” Merlin, that was oddly specific… it couldn’t be?... “over one who would just continue their work around him.”
Yep, had to be… oh, poor, poor Regulus, what sort of wretched person would do that to their younger sibling, especially one as precious and delicate as Sirius’s brother?
A selfish, despicable, rotten one just like you, his Mother’s voice shrieks in his head. He’s better off without you, all you do is bring him trouble!
“I confess, sometimes it's hard to discern which ones will be like that, but when they join the staff and are surrounded by a collective, positive influence, even the ones I had significant doubts about learn new beliefs, adopt new values. But if they were to find employment elsewhere, they’d almost certainly continue to prioritize work over people, efficiency over forming bonds with the witches and wizards they serve. If you can change your beliefs and outward actions after being surrounded by people whose values are different to the ones you were raised with, is it fair to say others are incapable of doing the same? Could you become the one who shows others a better way?”
Show others a better way? Like who? Narcissa and Andromeda? His parents? Bellatrix?! What a riot! Like they would ever listen to him?! Heir or not, the only person younger than Sirius in their family is Regulus. His parents and Bellatrix are a lost cause, but even if Cissa/Andie weren’t as close-minded as he previously thought, they’ll never take him seriously. He will always be their little cousin, the one they picked on, harassed, and annoyed until he grew a backbone, determined to protect his baby brother from their horrid ways (not that it was actually needed - they’ve yet to stop fawning over Regulus, Bellatrix included, in her own crazy, psychotic way).
Sirius stiffens as the hazy eyes gaze at him, like they’re assessing his soul, rather than reading his thoughts. For whatever it’s worth, he raises his Occlumency shields, just to be safe. He’s not entirely convinced this isn’t Dumbledore pretending to be some wizened house elf… seems exactly the sort of kooky ploy he’d pull for his own amusement.
Pipsy pops back in, saving him from blurting out his real thoughts on the matter. Regulus would not be so quick to forgive Sirius if he told his elf-friend’s boss to piss off and mind his own business.
“Pipsy is sorry to interrupt, but Sirius Black should be coming right away!” she exclaims, wringing her hands in distress.
Oh bugger, what now?! Surely, James isn’t daft enough to let Remus anywhere near Regulus, right?
Brolly dips his head in a semblance of a bow. “A word of warning before you depart… perhaps in the future, it might be best to enact wards around your experiments? Labels alone might unintentionally tempt unsuspecting siblings into eating things they probably shouldn’t.”
What experiment would Regulus have… oh bloody hell.
Pipsy impatiently wiggles her fingers when Sirius doesn’t move. Taking a hold of her hand, he slams his eyes shut, feeling the tug in his navel when she whisks them away.
When he opens them again, Sirius blinks several times to confirm he’s seeing what he thinks he’s seeing, and yep, that’s Evan Rosier, the least confrontational of the three Rosier siblings, standing nose-to-nose with James Potter, the two jawing back and forth at each other, wands held loosely at their sides. An arm’s length away, Crouch watches the pair intently, ready to intervene at a moment’s notice (either to stop the fight or back Evan up, hard to say).
There must be a muffling spell around them - their mouths are definitely moving, but Sirius can only hear a faint buzzing sound in his ears. Walking closer to the group, he flinches at the sudden increase in volume.
Regulus’s cries are the only words he can decipher. “Stop… both of you! Please, stop! We're friends here, aren't we?”
“Let's all kiss and make up, yeah?” Crouch suggests, sounding like he’s only partially joking.
Assuring Pipsy he’s got this under control, Sirius waits until she pops away before barking out, “REGULUS!”
Entire body curled around Crouch, Regulus jumps a foot in the air, oops. But he also drops his fingers from his mouth, the stress of the situation leading him to fall back into an old bad habit - nail biting.
“I told them to stop fighting!” Regulus sniffs, eyes glistening with unshed tears that Sirius silently prays stay exactly where they are. “But Evan said -”
Evan takes a step back, though is still very much in James’s personal bubble. “Evan said that Potter is always involved when something happens to -”
“Rosier is fooling around with Regulus!” James interrupts, splotches of color staining every inch of visible skin… Sirius can’t recall the last time he saw his best mate so worked up.
He had a feeling there was something between Ev and Reg (or there would be in time), but he could have happily lived his entire life without ever learning the truth. Sirius more so than anyone understands the appeal of experimenting with your closest friend, just hopes it goes better for them than it did for him… he also doesn’t want to know the details, ever.
“‘Snogging’ and ‘fooling around’ are not synonymous terms, Potter!” Evan screeches. “What part of that does your tiny brain not understand?”
“It’s a slippery slope!” the Chaser retorts furiously.
Evan points at James, his triumphant expression making both Gryffindors tense. “Potter is also snogging your brother.”
Merlin have mercy! Regulus isn't even supposed to think of stuff like that until he’s thirty, yet here he is at fourteen years of age, doing more than Sirius has ever done… reputation aside.
Regulus gasps like this is all news to him, and it takes everything in Sirius not to roll his eyes.
“Okay…” He rubs a hand over his face, debating the best way to handle this. Turning to James, he says, “I guessed that already, and I do not want to know more.” Sirius turns to Evan next and says, “I know, they put on a little show in front of our Heads of Houses to ensure I had an alibi during the Smith plot, that’s it.” Turning to Crouch, he asks, “Is there anything I should know?” Thankfully, Crouch shakes his head, though he seems disappointed by that fact. So, last but not least, Sirius turns to Regulus. “We will be discussing your promiscuous behavior later, Reggie. You are much too young for this sort of thing.”
“I’m sorry for bringing you shame, brother,” Regulus whispers dejectedly, hanging his head. “I promise to do better.”
“Not mad -”
“THAT IS BLOODY RICH COMING FROM THE BIGGEST SLAG AT HOGWARTS -”
“Evan!” Crouch cries, aghast.
“That’s not nice, Ev!” Regulus mutters, frowning at his friend. “We don’t slag-shame.”
“APOLOGIZE TO HIM, OR I’LL BLOODY MAKE YOU, SNAKE!” James yells in return, roughly shoving Evan in the chest before Sirius can get an arm around his friend’s waist to drag him a few paces back. “YOU’RE A FUCKING HYPOCRITE, ROSIER!”
Normally, Sirius would knock out someone’s teeth for saying something like that to him. But one, he isn’t the man-whore everyone believes him to be, so he secretly finds it hilarious; two, he can’t believe wittle Evan Rosier was brave enough to say that to his face; and three, there’s no audience around, so Sirius doesn’t need to defend his ‘reputation’.
“How is it my fault you can’t handle the truth about your mate, Potter? Everyone in this bloody castle knows he’s a slag!”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, so put a cork in it, or I’ll put my fist in your face!”
“Wasn’t he twelve when he started hanging out in the girls’ dorms?! What would you call that, huh?”
“Jealous he wasn’t in your dorm, Rosier?”
“Stop fighting, please!”
Placing two fingers into his mouth, Sirius lets out a sharp, ear-piercing whistle, using a dash of wandless, nonverbal magic to amplify the sound. “ENOUGH!! We are FINISHED discussing this matter, do you understand?!” He waits for their reluctant nods. “Now, back to the issue at hand… what happened to Regulus is my fault, and only my fault.” Three pairs of eyes widen in shock (his brother, for a reason that likely only makes sense to him, is gazing intently at James). “Regulus.” It takes a few seconds for the younger to redirect his attention. “What have you eaten this morning?… the truth, please, I won’t be mad.”
They all tense when Regulus’s lip starts to wobble, a stray tear slipping down his cheek. “You are going to be mad, I just know it!” Thanks to recent experiences, Sirius recognizes the signs of an impending breakdown; with that in mind, he invokes the most sacred of vows from their childhood - the pinky promise. Fortunately, it’s enough. “There were these brownies in the back of the cold box thingy in your room… which I don’t have in my dorm, by the way, very tragic. But they said they’d make my day better, and the morning was already so rough and hard,” James makes a choked sound in the back of his throat, “and I was so hungry, practically dying -”
“How many?” Sirius asks with a sigh, massaging his temple. The most he’s eaten at a time is one, and he was bouncing off the walls for hours.
“Six.”
SIX?!
“Well, damn,” James rasps, breaking the stunned silence; personally, Sirius couldn’t have said it better himself. “Guess that does explain a lot, though.”
Evan’s skin turns an interesting shade of purple. “YOU DRUGGED -”
“Oh, come off it, Evan!” Mother of Merlin, Sirius should be formulating a plan right now, not wasting time soothing Regulus’s crotchety best friend. “It wasn’t intentional, and he’s going to be fine.”
“He doesn’t SEEM fine!” Evan gestures towards the boy in question; Regulus is now crouched on the ground several feet away, engrossed in a very animated discussion with some random cat (in his brother’s defense, the cat is actively participating in the chat). From Sirius’s perspective, the only strange part of the situation is how indiscreet it is… Regulus is usually much more low key when stopping to talk to whatever creature he unexpectedly stumbled upon. “And he keeps kissing everyone! In public.”
“Is Regulus not allowed to have a good day? Or are you upset that you’re not having one, too? Jealous that he’s kissing people who aren’t you?” Sirius snaps his fingers together. “Wait, I’ve got it! You just want everyone to be as equally miserable as you are, right? No good days allowed in Evan Rosier’s world!”
Regulus rushes to their side, preventing Evan’s response. “Lads! I’ve had a wondrous idea.” Lads... oh sweet Godric have mercy, the girls are going to murder Sirius for this, unless he can somehow get Reg all fixed up within the next ten minutes. “We can have a good day, every day, if you put a coffee maker in our room! Oh, please brother, pretty please?”
Crouch, the least uptight of Regulus’s Slytherin buddies, throws his head back, cackling loudly. “Good luck with that one, mate.” He claps Sirius on the shoulder, then tosses an arm around the shortest member of their posse (it’s bad enough Regulus is nearly Sirius’s height, but if Evan ever grows taller than him, he’s going to perish on the spot). “Let’s sort this out after breakfast, yeah? Reg needs more than just chocolate if we want that big ole brain of his to heal up.”
Wholeheartedly agreeing with that statement, Sirius is halfway down the hall before he realizes a certain someone isn’t following them.
“Little star, it's time to go!” he calls, retracing his steps.
But Regulus twists to the side when Sirius reaches for him. With a delighted squeal, a sound he’s certain his brother has never uttered in his entire life, Regulus takes off in the opposite direction.
“Oi, Sev!!”
The next few seconds remind Sirius of the time he used his Omnioculars to rewatch a broom collision in slow-motion at the Quidditch World Cup.
Regulus is too far away for either Sirius or his Slytherin friends to prevent the catastrophe they all know is coming, meaning they can only watch as he skids to a stop inches from Snape’s large, hooked nose. Hands come to rest on the older Slytherin’s shoulders; Snape’s confused and a little wary, but to their dismay, he doesn’t draw his wand or shove Regulus away. Of course, Sirius doesn’t want to see his little brother hexed, but he’d prefer Regulus receive a face full of boils… an easy fix… compared to the alternative - witnessing him press a featherlight kiss to Snape’s oily cheek, mentally scarring Sirius for life.
“Good morning, new friend!” Regulus chirps, stepping back and dropping his hands to his side. “Isn’t it a beautiful day? I absolutely love mornings, so full of possibilities, aren’t they?... did you sleep well? You look rather tired.”
Snape’s mouth drops open, skin flushing a bright red. “What -”
“Hm, I guess even if you slept like a baby, it wouldn’t have been for very long.” James rushes to Sirius’s side, angrily muttering something about Regulus ‘kissing Snivellus, we need to do something!’... but Sirius can’t comprehend much over the ringing in his ears. He recognizes the particular path his brother is careening down, but once again, he’s powerless to stop it. “You and Sirius stayed up really late last night, didn’t you?” Regulus lets out a breathy giggle that leaves even Crouch too stunned to speak. “I was actually asleep when he finally came to bed… that never happens!”
Snape and James glare accusingly at Sirius, sporting matching looks of betrayal.
“You… Snape… up late together… Snape?” James stammers out in a mix of horror, shock, and disgust.
The Black heir holds his hands up defensively. “There was nothing untoward going on, we were playing chess in the Common Room!”
Once the air was cleared regarding how Snape was being compensated for his time, the two fifth-years spent the following hour reviewing the Wit-Sharpening potion step by step with Regulus. Naturally, Sirius and Snape were both snappish with each other - somethings will never change - but when Regulus casually mentioned Snape was the undefeated Wizard’s Chess Champion in Slytherin, Sirius leapt at the opportunity to prove he’s once again superior to Snape in every single way. How was he supposed to know that Snape was actually a half-decent player? Their match went on and on, until they reluctantly agreed to end it in a stalemate after a Prefect returning from his rounds found them in the Common Room, hunched over the board by the dwindling fire.
“You’re friends with Snape now?” James peers at Sirius like he’s committed the worst of the worst crimes in the world. “A week from now, are you gonna tell me you’re permanently moving your stuff into Slytherin, forgetting the rest of us ever existed?”
“No!”
Sirius would never do that, he can’t believe James would ever say such vile words to him of all people. He loves Regulus, he always will, but he’s not like the other snakes.
You can’t have everything, his Mother’s voice whispers in his head. Someone as worthless and ungrateful as you doesn’t deserve any of it, but regardless, a day will come where you’ll have to choose between the two. Who will it be?
I won’t choose, Sirius hisses back, I want both.
You have to pick, his ‘Mother’ insists. They’re too different, you can’t -
I want both, so I will get both, and there's nothing anyone can do to stop me! I’m the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, doesn’t that make me practically royalty? What’s the point of being royal if I can’t get what I want?
‘Mother’ has nothing to say to that, ha!
“You can come, too, it’ll be so much fun!” Regulus’s smile is absolutely radiant - it breaks Sirius’s heart to see his brother so thrilled by a wish that will never be granted. “Slumber parties every weekend, we can play Quidditch on the same team… you’ll love our Captain, Justin is literally the best there is… Sirius and Sev can play chess to their heart’s content, and you can meet Sirius’s new mates -” He’s not too far gone to miss James’s affronted expression. “They’re all girls, you know how he is.” Evan smirks, like Regulus just proved something.
“The Headmaster will never allow it,” Snape retorts cautiously, side-eyeing Regulus. At the same time, James screeches, “I can’t be a Slytherin!”
The Gryffindor’s five words instantly rip away Regulus’s joyous mood. “Oh, but… w-why not?”
“Yeah, Potter, why not?” Crouch counters, raising an eyebrow in challenge, Evan seething next to him. The teeny tiny part of Sirius that lives for drama is curious to see how his best mate gets himself out of this one.
James waves his hands wildly in the air. “Your Common Room is in a dungeon… the windows look out into the depths of the Black Lake! That’s beyond creepy! You lot hardly ever see the sun… well I suppose that explains a lot about Slytherin moodiness… but snakes are quiet, reserved, and bloody posh all the time, no sense of fun to be found, quite the opposite of us lions -”
Regulus inhales sharply. “Ooh, speaking of fun!” He interlocks his fingers with Snape’s, who startles at the sudden contact. “Come on, let’s go to my room now that it’s empty…” For no discernible reason other than to cause Sirius undue stress, his brother’s voice drops several octaves. “I have something to show you that I think you’ll really like.”
There’s a lot of overlapping voices after that, impossible to make out anything over Crouch’s raucous laughter. Sirius drops his face into his hands with a groan. Bloody hell, what a day it’s been already, and it’s only 8:15 in the morning!
Someone jabs a finger into his side, cutting his internal pity party short. “FIX THIS!” Of course it’s Evan who dares to interrupt Sirius’s moping time, how could he think it’d be anyone else? “Reg can’t go on all day like this, and I seriously doubt he’ll stay in the dorm, regardless of how nicely we ask... and it’s not like we can lock him in either!” Ugh, that’s right… Regulus has an insane affinity for lock-picking that really would have come in handy during some of the pranks the Marauders have pulled. But now? Super inconvenient.
At Hogwarts and back home, no one would dispute that Sirius is good at creating problems; the real debate would center around his skills in solving them. Personally, Sirius believes he excels at both, cuz he’s fucking awesome like that. But time is of the essence here, and he’s already stressed out as it is. There’s no telling what else Regulus will do or say with six servings of Sirius’s modified Elixir to Induce Euphoria in his system.
So, without thinking, Sirius turns to his fellow fifth-year Slytherin and blurts, “I need your help.”
Snape, the dramatic git, reels backwards like he’s been slapped. “Need I remind you, Black, we are NOT friends. You don’t get to just -”
“It’s for Regulus, obviously!”
James raises his voice even louder to be heard over Snape’s rant. “We don’t need Snape’s help!” The Slytherin in question rolls his eyes, but blessedly stops talking. “Are you insane, Sirius? We can solve this little hiccup on our own, we’d be top of the class if Snape wasn’t such a suck up to Slughorn -”
“I’m still ranked first, excuse you!” Sirius cries over his best mate’s complaints. He’s very proud of that ranking, even if it’s shared.
“Severus is a Potions prodigy,” Regulus interjects softly, causing James to immediately shut his mouth. “My brother is very good at Potions, yes, and he’s always loved experimenting, but Severus is on another level entirely.”
“I happen to resent that." Was anyone besides Brolly the House Elf ever going to acknowledge Sirius's talent in Potions!? Bloody hell, he can’t even get his own brother to back him!
Then as casual as can be, like he’s not revealing one of his most heavily guarded secrets, Regulus says, “Actually, Sev’s been tutoring me every other week since my second year. I daresay he’s the only reason I haven’t failed Potions and brought insurmountable shame to the Black name.” With that, he throws his arms around Snape in a suffocating embrace. “Thanks, Sev! You’re the best, I can’t wait until we’re alone in my room so I can show you something really neat.”
“I’ll help,” Snape gasps out, locking eyes with Sirius over Regulus’s shoulder. “Tell me everything.”
The Great Hall is filling up rapidly by the time they arrive. They’ve agreed to start working on a ‘cure’ for Regulus after breakfast, and Sirius has never been so grateful for a free period first thing in the morning. From what he can tell, his other potion hasn’t taken effect on anyone yet, which is good. Pranking food is tricky business; if the potion kicks in too quickly, other students become much more cautious regarding what they eat. And that’s boring.
And if the potion doesn’t kick in at all, you’ll know you got played by a house elf older than your bloodline.
“Look, brother, look!” Regulus tugs on Sirius’s sleeve, interrupting his discussion with Snape regarding the alterations he made to the Euphoria Elixir. It’s so obvious that Snape is trying his damndest not to appear impressed or overly invested in the conversation, but that’s alright; Sirius doesn’t need validation from some Slytherin Wannabe-Dark-Wizard anyways, Potions prodigy or not.
“Why am I staring at James’s ugly mug?” Sirius teases, sticking his tongue out at his best mate.
“S’not ugly, it’s pretty.” Regulus lightly traces the stars that appeared on James’s now-blushing skin. “That’s Leo, and look, look, look! There’s me, Regulus.”
Transfiguring his spoon into a mirror, James scrutinizes his reflection. “Huh, you’re right, that’s neat. Sirius’s doing, I presume?”
“Obviously it’s his doing… and obviously I’m right!” It’s so refreshing to see Regulus being sassy as fuck to someone who wasn’t named Sirius Black… even if it that person was James Potter. “I’m named after a star, I’d recognize myself anywhere.”
Placing a hand over his heart, James croons, "My sincerest apologies, your majesty, I did not mean to offend."
Regulus giggles sweetly. "I'd sure hope not, Monsieur Potter."
Sirius has made a concerted effort to not show it, but his abrupt relocation to Slytherin has been hard… mostly due to why he’s here in the first place. Fighting with Remus is painful - physically, emotionally, mentally; it feels wrong, like they’re actively working against nature. Sure, small spats between them are commonplace - they love arguing with each other. And to absolutely no one’s surprise, their petty squabbles sometimes go too far. In those cases, they either let James mediate until they find a compromise, or they’ll spend a day or two licking their wounds, apologize, and then move on like it never happened. Their current quarrel is the first where they haven’t made up within the week. And while Sirius’s pride and bruised ego may have started it, it’s morphed into something so complex, he isn’t sure they’ll ever be able to reconcile.
Reconnecting with Regulus dulled some of the agony his fractured friendship with Remus induced. For one, mending his relationship with his baby brother soothes a battered piece of Sirius’s heart, a piece that’s spent the last few years being torn apart and pulverized at every turn. Regulus is also someone who can effortlessly pull Sirius out of his own head when he’s in a mood, not an easy feat by any means. But spending time with his brother has also been… strange. Very strange. Setting aside all the new things Sirius has learned about his family since arriving at Regulus’s door, the semi non-tortuous hours spent with his cousins, and his unthinkable (tentative) truce with Snape, there’s one specific part he can’t wrap his head around: the ‘friendship’ between James and Regulus that’s sprung up. Very, very strange.
Despite what some people (*cough* Mother *cough*) seem to think, Sirius isn’t an idiot. Not to mention, he has eyes… eyes that he actually uses! Before this school year, it would not be an over-exaggeration to say that Regulus and James despised each other.
Sirius isn’t sure exactly when he began noticing it. But somewhere in the latter half of first year, James started tensing whenever Regulus was brought up in conversation, and he’d go out of his way to change the topic of conversation. There were several instances, in fact, where Sirius caught James rolling his eyes (‘Is there a problem, James?’... ‘Nah, mate, please continue telling us about the flowers your brother likes best and why’). His behavior was eerily similar to Sirius’s less-subtle reaction whenever his friend was yapping nonstop about Lily Evans, which, rude. There’s no conceivable way that Sirius talked about Regulus as much as James talked about his crush!
Regulus’s behavior was even worse. From practically the beginning of their friendship, whenever Sirius mentioned the Potter heir, his brother would do one (or more) of the following; shut down completely (literally, he wouldn’t say another word until Sirius changed the topic), straight up walk away in the middle of the conversation, scoff, grumble indecipherably under his breath, roll his eyes, or make some highly unnecessary and overly sassy comment. A few times, Regulus even hissed like an agitated kitten, and all Sirius had done was say ‘James’! He never called his brother out on his behavior; he assumed Regulus hated James for being a Potter, a Gryffindor, a blood traitor, etc., and the likelihood of him changing his stance was slim to none, regardless of what Sirius said in his best mate’s favor (he might have also found the reactions obnoxiously delightful, and he might have secretly made a game out of guessing which response he was going to get… there might be some merit to Grandmother’s claims that Sirius is on the overindulgent side when it comes to Reg).
If Sirius didn’t catch onto the animosity then, he would have when he eagerly introduced the two on Platform 9 ¾, having spent the summer deluding himself into believing it would be friendship at first sight, just like it had been for James and Sirius. They just needed to meet in person, that's all! Then, everything would work itself out, which… yeah… uh… it didn’t. The tension was literally palpable. Back then, James didn’t even look at Snape with as much loathing as he did the younger Black brother. And Regulus? Well first off, he wouldn’t even look at James. Kept his eyes averted the whole time (in the rude sense, not the ‘I’m shy sense’). And when James reluctantly held his hand out to shake, Sirius legitimately thought Regulus was going to bite him… and not in the cute way he used to nibble on exposed skin as a toddler to soothe himself. He managed to keep his teeth where they belonged, but he did turn his nose up and walk away without shaking James’s hand… or ever looking at him. So there’s that.
Needless to say, the sudden shift in Regulus and James’s dynamic has left Sirius bamboozled. He also fucking hates how he can’t talk to Remus about it all. The most emotionally intelligent and mature Marauder, Remus would surely be able to shed some light on what the fuck is going on between Sirius’s best mate and Sirius’s baby brother… and on the off-chance that he could not, at least Sirius would be able to get his worries off his chest. All twenty-seven million of them. Like… James and Reg snogging in front of their Heads of Houses to ensure Sirius has an ironclad alibi? Sounds like no big deal, minus the pesky part where there’s an astronomically high risk of word getting back to Mother and Father that not only is Regulus snogging boys in broom closets, but he’s snogging a Potter on top of it (confession: Sirius’s inner drama queen would pay good money to witness Mother’s reaction to hearing such salacious news. Not that he ever wants her to find out! But if she did…). And fine, there’s a small possibility that knowing James is bisexual, and Regulus is gay (how the fuck did Sirius miss that one?!) may contribute to his uneasiness over their new found ‘friendship’. But how could Sirius not be freaked out?! Until recently, it didn’t seem possible that Regulus and James could exist in the same room without the risk of them vaporizing one another from the heat of their glares! Although, looking back… no, no, Sirius isn’t going to reexamine every interaction James and Regulus had up until this year, that would be crazy.
Fact of the matter is, Sirius isn’t sure how he feels. On one hand, he’s pleased as a pickle that they get along. His wildest, least-likely-to-happen fantasy has come true! On the other hand… Sirius detests being left in the dark. And they’ve been acting so bloody suspicious lately! Regulus defending James, James in a tizzy over Sirius’s reaction to them snogging after Sirius already reacted, the way they sit so close together, how they keep sneaking glances at each other, James being so upset that Reg is ‘fooling around’ with Evan, their constant, back and forth bickering. Sirius is an expert at flirtatious bickering… kind of… and James and Regulus are undoubtedly flirty bickering. Which begs the question - are they dating behind his back? Could Sirius support such a union? Currently, Regulus is much too young for a boyfriend, so Sirius thinks his 'no' would be justifiable, but what about in the future? Then again, what would happen if they broke up? Merlin, that would be fucking messy - Blacks don't do 'amicable' when it comes to that sort of nonsense, and Sirius would be stuck in the middle, he's sure of it. But what if they are just friends, and the entire foundation of their bond is talking about how much they hate Sirius? What if James realizes Regulus is the way better Black brother? What if Regulus realizes James makes a better brother than Sirius, the brother he has only by blood, not by choice? What happens when they both realize they’re better off without him?
Why am I such a jealous, insecure little git?! Sirius thinks ruefully to himself. Isn’t that exactly what got me into the mess with Remus in the first place?
Absentmindedly running a finger over the raised scar on his left hand, Sirius jerks back to the present when he senses Regulus’s mood plummeting.
“Why don’t I have any stars?” his brother murmurs disheartenedly.
… that’s a bloody good question.
“Drink your coffee, Reggie.”
Before this moment, Sirius would never imagine there’d be a time where Regulus didn’t chug a cup of coffee the moment he sat down for breakfast. So, of fucking course, he skips his customary beverage the morning Sirius adds a potion into it that he needs to consume.
“I don’t want -”
“Regulus, drink your coffee,” Sirius repeats in a more serious… heh… tone.
“Will it make me pretty like James? Can I be on my own face? … does that make me vain?”
“Narcissistic,” Sirius teases. “Kidding, of course, but we’ll never find out if you don’t drink your coffee.”
In the meantime, the Black heir squints at his fellow Gryffindor… he’s fairly certain he would have noticed if James had freckles and/or pimples that formed a constellation. The potion should only change what’s already there - it’s why he had to brew a specialized batch for himself, Reggie, and Andie. With flawless, unblemished skin free of zits, freckles, scars (mostly), and the like, the potion he dumped into the food wouldn’t work on them; if three of the four Blacks remained the same, it would be obvious Narcissa was suffering from a break out - and that would be counterproductive to the fuckload of work he’s done to pull this off.
“Your brother doesn’t have anything either!” James points out in a rush, having fallen victim to Regulus’s pout, the poor schmuck. “So, it’s not just… oh my…” He covers his mouth with his hand, eyes wide behind his glasses.
Taking a long, noisy sip of his coffee, Regulus silently passes Sirius the mirror before he can ask; he shuts his eyes with a groan when he sees what the tweaked potion did to his skin. Of. Fucking. Course.
The upper half of Sirius’s face is completely silver, like he’s wearing a domino mask that’s customized to cover his forehead too. His cheeks, the bridge of his nose, and the area below his eyebrows are dotted with white twinkling stars. His eyes glow an unnatural gray, almost marble-like. But the really unsettling part is the five grayish-white phases of the moon spreading across his forehead, the full moon directly in the center.
Fuck, is this some sort of reaction between the specialized potion and the regular one in his food? Sirius has, uh, never actually taken the customized version, but Andie tried a small amount this morning - her skin looked exactly like James’s, just a different pattern.
“Uh… mate… you might want to see this,” James whispers, reaching around Regulus without looking to poke Sirius’s shoulder.
A quick glance around the room reveals most of the student body, at least those whose faces he can see, have results exactly like Sirius expected. There’s only one person who looks massively different, and shocker, it’s Remus Lupin. His skin is a startling glittery blue, eyes fiery golden. But where Sirius has five moon phases taking up his entire forehead, Remus only has one… except it’s not the moon, but a sun, centered smack in the middle.
Okay, so there goes Sirius’s theory that his unique coloring was a result of combining two potions. No biggie. There’s certainly a logical explanation for this… meddling house elves.
“Soulmates,” Regulus ‘whispers’ back to James, who quickly changes the subject, bless him.
When Narcissa and Andromeda show up, the Great Hall is aflutter, sleepy students finally realizing something unusual is happening to their friends.
“You look well,” Sirius greets, hoping she can’t tell how bitter he is over that fact. If he’d known all she needed was his miracle cure and a decent nap, he would have skipped this Starry Glamor potion business altogether. And if he skipped that, Regulus wouldn’t have gone to Gryffindor Tower, and Sirius then wouldn’t have to spend the rest of his morning with Severus fucking Snape, trying to discover some new miracle cure to return Regulus back to his pessimistic, maudlin self.
“So do you,” Narcissa smirks, sliding into the seat next to a distracted Evan, who has yet to take his eyes off Crouch’s starry freckles… interesting. “Always need to be the center of attention, hmm?”
Sirius rolls his eyes, silently praying she doesn’t notice anything amiss about Regulus. “You know me.”
“What happened?” Andromeda gasps, taking the seat next to her sister. He’s actually honored when she dumps her potion into the goblet - in spite of the predicament that is his own face, she still trusts his work enough to consume a larger dose of it. “Should I expect the same?”
“Luck of the draw, I think,” he lies… not that it really matters, considering she’s already emptied her goblet by the time he responds.
The remainder of breakfast finishes without additional drama. James brings up some controversial Quidditch topic to distract Regulus from throwing a temper tantrum when he doesn’t get the ‘special skin’ or ‘himself’ on his cheeks… his stars don’t seem to follow any discernible pattern, which further upsets him. Fortunately, he’s also easily distracted in his present state, but Sirius makes a mental note to keep him away from mirrors and any other reflective surfaces for the time being.
Notes:
Hehe, house points to everyone who guessed it was the brownies that made Regulus act a mess!
Also, I am about to finish my other fic 'it was by design, cause baby, i'm a mastermind' in the next few days if you wanna check it out :) :) :)
Hoping to be wrapped up with this fic by beginning of April... because I will be moving apartments for the first time in six years (I need more space, but jfc why is everything so expensive?!?!). Soooooo ugh, prayers ya'll, adulting sucks.
Chapter 19: Revelations
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Stumbling over the threshold to Regulus’s not-so-secret tutoring room, Sirius collapses in a heap on the nearest desk, beyond grateful he took the time yesterday to properly dust everything. Good fucking Godric, how did he forget how bratty Regulus can be when he puts his mind to it, especially after yesterday’s catastrophe in this very room? Sirius had been so fixated on the potion he’ll need to brew to cure his brother that he overlooked the crucial first step - getting Regulus into the room with them.
Everything was fine and dandy at first. Regulus didn’t seem to find it strange that James was following them back to the Dungeons, too wrapped up in his argument with the Gryffindor Chaser about how fouls against Seekers should result in harsher penalties. He also didn’t bat an eye when their little group stopped in front of the slab of wall leading to the Slytherin Common room, Sirius and Snape both dashing in to grab whatever supplies, ingredients, and books they thought might be helpful. But Regulus definitely began paying attention when they turned the last corner leading to the classroom he and Snape commandeered for his tutoring sessions; he stopped so suddenly, Sirius smacked into him, almost dropping the storage container of various ingredients he procured from underneath Regulus’s bed.
Regulus fervently shook his head. “Nope, nope, nope, today is a good day!” With his hands full, Sirius couldn’t grab Regulus when he attempted to dart past him, but he angled his shoulders to block his path. “No Potions today, we are NOT ruining a good day.”
Their arguments fell on deaf ears. Regulus refused to accept their story that they wanted his company while they brewed a potion together… technically the truth, too! In his mind, they were trying to force him into some group tutoring session, which he absolutely would not tolerate under any circumstance. They were lucky Regulus opted not to draw his wand, though he did hiss at James like a furious cat and would have bitten him if the Chaser’s reflexes weren’t honed from years of Quidditch. Sirius decided not to chastise his brother for that particular infraction; after all, Regulus did warn James beforehand (‘If you touch me again, I’ll bite you’). He will, however, need to apologize for his unintentionally curt rejection of his best mate’s offer. There was something about the way Regulus’s demeanor completely brightened when James suggested the two of them go walk around the lake together, leaving the others to their brewing, that instantly put Sirius on the defensive. He doesn’t blame James for what happened to Regulus, even though it did happen on his friend’s watch… Sirius just knows he won’t be able to concentrate if Regulus is out of his sight.
In the end, it’s Lily Evans… and Regulus himself… who found a suitable solution. When Regulus's brain finally realized there was a fifth person in their group, he interrupted her mid-sentence to shyly inquire as to whether it was true she was Muggleborn. After an uneasy silence, followed by a tense confirmation, Regulus unleashed a volley of questions regarding any and all things Muggle. Bouncing on his toes as he asked whatever came to mind, he rendered the others speechless. Seizing the presented opportunity, Evans gathered her wits and offered to discuss anything he wanted, so long as they could find ‘a private, comfortable nearby place to speak’. Looping their arms together, Regulus hightailed it to the nearest classroom, which just so happened to be the one they were intending to use anyways.
Ironically, Sirius had originally been peeved about Evans’s inclusion. Snape insisted she would provide ‘invaluable assistance’... bit funny how he only asked her to join them when he learned James would be there too, wasn’t it? He didn’t bother with threats about refusing to help if Sirius declined his proposal - his triumphant expression made it obvious that he knew Sirius would agree, regardless of his personal feelings on the matter. Besides, James didn’t give Sirius much of a choice; pausing his debate with Regulus to high-five Evans, he also tossed out some cringe-inducing remark about how it was, ‘Probably one of Sluggy’s wet dreams to get his four best students brewing together for a common cause’. Neither Snape nor James seem to care that her being involved in this debacle means Andromeda and Narcissa are definitely going to find out about what happened to Reg… ideally, he’ll be cured by the time Evans goes running to her older Slytherin BFF, but it would be better for Sirius’s mental and physical health if they remained permanently in the dark on the matter.
Popular and well-liked by both students and staff, Sirius is probably one of the few people at Hogwarts who isn’t wowed by Lily Evans. He’s self-aware enough to recognize some of his qualms likely stem from the resentment he felt back when he had a wee crush on James in first year. Sirius knew his feelings were pointless - from the moment James first saw the redheaded Muggleborn girl in their year, he was obsessed with her. But even after Sirius found someone new to crush on, he would still get irritated whenever James mentioned her (which was always… though it tapered off sometime last year, thank Merlin). Sirius’s issues with Evans might also derive from the way she viciously chews his and James’s arses out the second they so much as look in Snape’s direction; she’s more protective of the slimy git than Sirius, Andie, Cissa, and Bella are of Regulus combined. Fuck, he had to spend ten minutes at breakfast convincing her that Regulus’s offhand comment that Snape would ‘make a great vampire’ was not an insult, but was actually one of the highest compliments Regulus could ever give someone. Blimey, Snape wasn’t even offended, he knew it was meant as a positive (or at least neutral) statement! She’s beyond ridiculous when it comes to her childhood friend.
A sharp slap lands on Sirius’s arse, jolting him back to the present.
“Their Majesties are requesting more comfortable accommodations,” James says, revealing himself to be the aforementioned slapper-of-arse.
“And?” Sirius attempts a shrug, which might be difficult for his friend to see - not because James is half blind, but because Sirius is lying flat on his stomach, splayed across the desk. “They have wands.”
James goes on to explain that their help is requested because he and Sirius share the top ranking in Transfiguration for their year. Although it’s pleasing to finally have his accomplishments acknowledged - as they should be - it’s not enough to encourage him to move from his position.
Two words from Regulus swiftly replenish Sirius’s depleted energy.
“Oooh, brownies!”
Sirius is on his feet before his brain fully registers the words. At first glance, he thinks Regulus was just messing with him… but then he follows his brother’s gaze across the room. Sitting on the table next to the cauldron Sirius already used once this morning, is the small container of treats previously stored in the Gryffindor Fifth-Year Boys’ Dormitory, complete with the handwritten label, Sirius Black’s Brilliant-Bad-Day-Begone Brownies.
Different variations of, “REGULUS, NO!” ring out across the room. Snape is closest to the sugary goods that started it all, but Regulus is fast… and motivated. The older Slytherin lunges for the container, but his advantage of proximity isn’t enough to thwart Regulus, who emerges victorious with his prize clutched to his chest. Thank Godric, Rowena, Helga, and Salazar, prick that he is, for the house elves' foresight - Regulus isn’t able to remove the lid with force, determination, magic, nor any combination of the three.
“You just had breakfast… again,” Sirius softly chides, cautiously taking the container from his distraught sibling. “We’ll save these for after lunch.” Of course, they will do no such thing; the brownies will likely be destroyed during his and Snape’s attempt to decant the Euphoria Elixir out of them, with the hope that it will aid their quest to derive an antidote, but alas, what Regulus doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
“Maybe a Cauldron Cake in the meantime?” Evans offers from the front of the room, waving a different container in the air.
While Sirius was occupied, James, in an impressive display of talent (*cough* show-off *cough*) transfigured several workstations into two spacious, plush couches. After he changed a stool into a small coffee table, several containers of food popped into existence on its surface; clearly the house elves are hard at work today… and watching them, the creepy buggers.
“Go get your questions answered,” Sirius murmurs, nudging his brother towards the couches when he doesn’t move, too busy glaring at the container of brownies like it insulted everything he holds dear. “Unless you wanna help Snape and me brew?”
As expected, Regulus bustles away with a yelp. “I’d literally rather be tossed into the lake with rocks attached to my ankles than do such a thing, no offense, kiss kiss, bye!”
Sirius wastes another few minutes convincing James it would be better if he joined Regulus and Evans on the couches. James tries to hide it, but he’s clearly hurt by Sirius’s dismissal. It’s almost enough to make him backpedal, but his best mate agrees before Sirius can say ‘never mind’. He’s not trying to be rude, or imply that James isn’t intelligent enough to help them, he swears! But this situation is difficult as it is; Sirius doesn’t have the patience to also play mediator between Snape and James.
See, Sirius would flay himself alive, or worse, shave off all of his hair, before he’d ever say such a thing aloud… but Snape, when it’s just him and Sirius, with no one else around, is… not that bad. Godric, Sirius can’t even think such a statement in the privacy of his own head without feeling like he’s going to be smited by one of those Muggle gods he read about, or disintegrated where he stands by the heat of James’s glare, his bones crushed to ashes under the barrage of Remus’s I-told-you-so’s. Would he ever be friends with Snape? Maybe in a different universe, if such a thing existed. Tolerating his arch-nemesis is shocking enough as it is, Sirius can’t fathom the thought of calling Severus Snape a friend.
Working with Snape isn’t much different than playing chess with him. The Slytherin scowls at Sirius when he starts mumbling to himself, something Sirius does in part because he hates the quiet, but also because it’s how he prefers to problem solve. They soon fall into a rhythm, brewing side-by-side over four cauldrons divided equally between them. Occasionally, they bounce ideas off one another or comment on the other’s potions, but aside from Sirius's self-directed remarks, most of their brewing is completed in companionable silence (which is such a disturbing thought, Sirius immediately stops thinking it when it crosses his mind).
As such, it takes Sirius several moments longer than usual to respond to Snape’s random question. “Do you ever wish you were an only child?”
Sirius nearly knocks over a cauldron. “WHAT?! NO, NEVER!” Snape casts a muffling charm around them, probably knowing it’s futile to ask Sirius to lower his voice. “Why would you ask such a horrid thing?!”
“I didn’t mean to offend.” Weirdly, Sirius believes he’s telling the truth. “As someone who doesn’t have a sibling, it just seems… easier.” He briefly glances towards the couches, obsidian eyes landing on the only girl in their group. Sirius recalls hearing bits and pieces of the drama surrounding Evans’s older sister, a Muggle, who was less-than-impressed with the revelation that her younger sibling was a witch.
“Well, I can only speak for myself, but I can say with absolute certainty that even when my brother and I weren’t on good terms, I would never, in a million years, want to be an only child… though, to be fair, I suppose if my sibling wasn’t…” perfect, “... if my sibling was someone other than Regulus, like Bella maybe, or that Hufflepuff cur, Smith, I might answer differently.”
Snape nods slowly, processing the information, then abruptly changes the topic. “Bellatrix once mentioned she was instructing you in magic not taught at school.”
Obviously, Snape is fishing for information. Sirius just isn’t sure what precisely he’s seeking to catch.
“She attempted,” Sirius responds evasively. “I’m a great learner, but we didn’t see eye-to-eye.”
He bites the inside of his cheeks to keep from laughing at his own joke. A few summers ago, Cousin Bella attempted to teach him Legilimency, the subtle art of entering another person’s mind. She supposedly learned the skill from her ‘mentor’ (a nightmarish bloke who sought to become the next Dark Lord by recruiting all the Pureblood folk to his side. He gained a decent sized, cult-like following by fanatically advocating for blood-purity and the usual bigoted shite, until news spread that he was actually a Halfblood... needless to say, his reign was short lived). Teaching someone Legilimency required mutual trust, something he and Bella severely lacked. It probably didn’t help that Sirius viewed Legilimency poorly; the idea of someone invading his mind, seeing his innermost thoughts, made him feel yucky when he first learned about that branch of magic as a child. Grandmother taught him how to protect his mind with Occlumency by the age of ten (she was an excellent teacher, of course, but she also knew how to motivate him… being forbidden from attending Hogwarts until he mastered the skill worked wonders for his concentration), and at the age of fifteen, Sirius would consider himself an expert at it. But Legilimency? It’s probably the only time he’ll ever agree with Bella - he can do it, sure, but he lacks subtlety and ‘delicacy’ (she phrased it a lot more harshly, but that’s the gist of her rating on his performance).
“Would you say you’re adequate at what she taught you?” Snape probes.
Sirius nods, and then asks what he’s been dying to know from the beginning. “Why?”
Snape, the bastard, doesn’t answer right away. After glancing over Sirius’s shoulder, taking a minute to stir one of the bubbling cauldrons, and then looking back towards the couches again, Snape finally mutters, “I need to show you something. I think… I think it'd be prudent for you to see it.”
“Okay?...” The Slytherin merely stares at him, and Sirius finally catches on. “Oh! Uh… you sure?”
“Be quick about it,” Snape grunts, looking decidedly unsure. But as is usually the case in Sirius’s life, curiosity outweighs common sense. Lifting his gaze to meet the other’s, Sirius easily slips into Snape’s mind, something that comes as a surprise - maybe Bella really hadn’t wanted to teach him Legilimency all that much? Or more likely, she wanted an excuse to poke around his mind and spy on him.
Thankfully, Sirius doesn’t have to search or plod around the crevices of Snape’s mind… what an unsettling thought… because whatever Snape wants to show him is front and center. Vain as he is, it’s still rather bewildering to find himself at the forefront of Snape’s thoughts - obviously the git is obsessed with Sirius, how could he not be?
Wait wait wait, what the fuck is this?, Sirius grumbles to himself when he recognizes the scene, wincing when Regulus screams out that he hates him. Why does Snape think he needs to see this again? Is this a Slytherin’s version of a prank? He and Sirius were apart for maybe thirty seconds after Regulus ran off. Snape had automatically turned right when they both moved to follow Regulus, going deeper into the dungeons, while Sirius paused to ask Hogwarts herself where his brother was - much easier than stumbling around, hoping for the best.
His inner ramblings quiet when the scene changes. Memory-Snape clings to the wall outside the classroom they found Regulus in. Sirius braces himself, expecting to hear Regulus’s cries for help while he struggles to stay afloat in a room filled with water (how does that actually work with a boggart?... fuck, guess he’s about to find out). But apparently Sirius isn’t going to discover how a boggart can change into water… he flinches when he hears his own voice, tone laced with venom, speaking words Sirius would never think, let alone say, to his baby brother.
‘Only spend time with you because you share their surname… James, the brother I wish I had… only talks to you because we’re related… so pathetic… can’t help but pity you… leave Hogwarts… you’ll never see any of us again… blast you off the tapestry… do the honors myself.’
Memory-Snape blinks in confusion, glancing back down the hallway where he left Sirius, and then back to the partially closed door. His eyes suddenly light with understanding when Regulus’s broken voice comes from the room, begging the apparition to, ‘Stop, just leave me alone… I know, okay? I already know.’ But he’s not quick enough in his reaction; boggart-Sirius utters the most gut wrenching thing real-Sirius has ever heard in his life.
‘Evidently, modern medicine does have its pitfalls… had you died as a child like you were supposed to, it would have spared us the agony of knowing someone so wholly unlovable.’
This… this was Regulus’s greatest fear? Sirius? He’s his brother’s greatest fear? Oh Merlin, what has he done? His poor, sweet Regulus deserves so much better than what he’s been given.
Dazed, Sirius watches memory-Snape transform boggart-Sirius into a giant black dog, the irony. Then, his memory-self barges into the room and rush forward to comfort his brother. From this vantage point, Sirius observes the absolute terror on Regulus’s face that he previously missed, along with the relief that follows when memory-Sirius says something about how there’s no water down here.
Returning to his own head isn’t pleasant, Snape shoving him out when it becomes evident Sirius has no intention of leaving… not that he wants to stay there or anything, but he can’t breathe right now, let alone think.
“I… apologize,” Snape murmurs, rubbing his temples and looking massively uncomfortable. It’s unclear if he’s apologizing for pushing Sirius out of his head, or for the fact that Sirius has fucked up so badly, the brother he vowed to protect is now terrified of him?
What did you expect ? that nasty voice in his head snarls. Your pride made you push him away for years, and you obviously did a fantastic job of convincing him you hated him. He might say he forgives you, but deep down, you both know that’s not possible. How could it be? You always told him you’d be there for him, the two of you against the world. But then you abandoned him, simply because you thought he was replacing you. How could Regulus ever trust you again? He’ll go his entire life wondering if today will be the day you leave him for good.
Voices swarm around him. Sirius vaguely recognizes the delicate scent of his brother’s shampoo as a pair of arms encircle him, a hand brushing aside his hair…
“OW!” Sirius shrieks, a sharp pain in his shoulder jerking him back to reality. Lifting a hand to touch the stinging, thankfully non-bleeding wound, Regulus flinches like he expects to be swatted. “Reggie… you… you bit me?”
The younger Slytherin angles his body behind Snape’s lanky frame. “I’m sorry, brother! You were just staring into space, and we kept calling your name, but you wouldn’t respond, and I was… I was scared.”
Of you, the voice hums darkly. He’s scared of you.
James starts talking, asking Sirius if he’s alright, but no, he’s not alright, how could he be after what he just saw?
“I need to… I need to use the loo.” Fleeing like a coward, are you? Probably did trick your way into Gryffindor. “Pardon.”
Sirius doesn’t wait for a response… of which there are plenty… and barrels his way towards the exit. Regulus’s voice stands out from the rest of the noise, “Closest one is to your left!” So, Sirius turns right, sprinting down a familiar path. When he finally stops running, weakling, always running from your problems, too chicken-shit to face them, it’s not much of a surprise to find himself in the classroom Regulus hid in yesterday.
Competing emotions battle in his mind. Sirius wants to feel angry, what's Snape playing at by showing that to me? Trying to get under my skin, knowing it would hurt me, I should show him just how proficient Blacks are at making others hurt. But he can’t muster up the rage for very long. Snape’s a pretty decent actor, sure, but even he isn’t that good - his reluctance to show Sirius the memory was obvious from the beginning, and afterwards, there was no trace of smugness to be found. The logical part of himself, the voice that always gets squashed down by his emotional side, points out that he can use this knowledge to rebuild his relationship with his brother, he can strive to soothe Regulus’s fears, both with words and actions.
But despair wins out.
“Oi!!! Mate, come on, Sirius!” Hands grip his arms, gently shaking him. He’ll never trust you again, what’s the point of trying? Even if he knew everything you did for him, it won’t be enough to repair your relationship. You’re good at tearing things down, but rebuilding? Not really in your skillset, is it? “Sirius, you need to come back to me -” Someone lets out a painful-sounding cough. “SIRIUS, PLEASE!... oh, bugger it.”
A pair of lips connect with his own, putting a stop to the warring voices in Sirius’s head. His senses come alight all at once; someone’s lips are pressed against his, their hands tangled in the mess that his hair has become. Their mouths are closed, but the kiss is still wet, oh... when did I start crying? The pungent scent of burning wood overpowers the faint aroma of cauldron cakes. Gaze refocusing, Sirius sees bright hazel eyes hidden behind spectacles, and one question overtakes the other thousand bouncing around in his brain - why is James kissing me?
“I love you, mate,” James says when he breaks the kiss, hands gently cupping Sirius's cheeks. “I love you so, so much, I can’t even put it in words how much you mean to me. All those things you were saying? None of them are true.” High praise, yet he still unapologetically delivers a sharp flick to Sirius’s forehead. “But if you ever scare me like that again, I will kill you with my bare hands, do you understand me, Sirius Orion Black?!”
"The -"
"The third, I know, you posh git."
Accidental magic comes in spurts for most young children, typically appearing in moments of extreme emotion. Years ago, many in their family feared the youngest Black was a Squib because he hadn’t exhibited signs of magic… such fears were eliminated when at the age of seven, Regulus caused a whirlwind of destruction after one of the guests at Grandfather’s birthday celebration tried to punish Kreacher for his own drunken mishap (their relatives were so relieved to learn he was magical, just like Sirius always said, Regulus’s only ‘punishment’ was an early bedtime). Immensely more emotional than his sibling, and terrible at squashing his feelings down, Sirius’s accidental magic manifested so frequently, his parents were not-so-secretly grateful when Regulus proved to be the opposite. In fact, Sirius is pretty sure Grandmother spent hours upon hours teaching him Occlumency in a bid to control his chaotic emotions (all she had to do was give Regulus a book about it, and poof, he mastered the skill… at the age of eight! Absolutely bonkers how he thinks Sirius was the genius among them).
As Sirius peers around the smoky classroom, the desks charred to ashes, the stone floor damp from James’s frantic Aguamenti charms… perhaps Occlumency wasn’t the cure-all Grandmother hoped it would be.
“You kissed me?” There’s no complaint there, only confusion; while he no longer possesses any romantic feelings for his best mate, his heart will always beat a little faster for James.
A stream of water emits from James’s wand, drenching a stool after the tiniest of embers attempted to flicker back to life. “Yeah… er, sorry about that, I didn’t know what to do. For every fire I put out, another two cropped up. But I read once that someone can stop another person from panicking by kissing them -”
“Because it causes them to hold their breath,” Sirius nods sagely. He forgot all about that, but it makes sense. “I read, ‘The Love of a Lycan’ too.”
James’s skin flushes. “Isn’t that one of those… erotic novels? No, no, I don’t wanna know, no judgment! But I read it uh, somewhere else, can’t remember where.” Sirius doesn’t believe that for a single second, but he’s too exhausted to tease his friend. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Thanks, Jamie. I’m not upset with you, just sorry it came to that. But we should get -”
“What happened?” James interrupts, destroying any hope Sirius had that he could avoid this awkward discussion. “I’ve never seen you this upset, Siri. When I first looked over, you were staring into Snape’s eyes without blinking, for literally several minutes, it was freaky. Did he curse you? That rotten slimy bastard, I knew I should have stayed with you -”
“He just showed… er told me,” Sirius quickly corrects, “an uncomfortable truth.”
“Which is… ?”
Tears well up in Sirius’s eyes again, the words lodging in his throat. It takes significant effort, but he finally forces them out. “Regulus's biggest fear is… me.”
Stunned silence fills the room. Sirius understands the shock; it’s a painful truth to hear, although really, it makes sense. Of course, Regulus would be terrified of him, look at the destruction Sirius leaves in his wake without even trying!
“I’LL FUCKING KILL HIM, HOW DARE HE TELL YOU SUCH BLATANT LIES -”
Sirius grabs James’s arm before he can storm out of the room. “Whoa, whoa, whoa mate, hold your hippogriffs. It’s not Snape’s fault -”
“Bollocks!”
“I’ll explain if you just calm down -”
James stops struggling in his hold, the reversal of roles enough to knock some sense back into him; he’s the one always trying to get Sirius to calm down, not the other way around.
The only way Sirius can have such emotional conversations is by giving himself something to do. He casts a few charms to clear the air, quite literally, while he tells James about what happened yesterday, hesitating at first, until he remembers Regulus already blurted out that Snape’s been tutoring him for years. James stays by his side the entire time, knowing Sirius well-enough to understand he does not want assistance in putting the room back together, so don’t ask, please and thank you. Sirius skirts over how precisely Snape showed him his view of the incident - James is a smart lad, he’ll figure it out eventually, but Sirius is vehement that it’s not something they should ever discuss again. The room gleams bright and clean when he’s finished, much nicer than they found it, the professor’s desk free of the boggart rattling in the drawer.
“Sirius, your brother isn’t afraid of you,” James says when Sirius finally takes a breath.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Sirius scoffs, “How do you rank so high in Defense if you don’t know how boggarts work? Isn’t that something we learned in third year?”
James mirrors his stance. “Have you ever said any of those things to Regulus?”
“NO!” Upon further reconsideration, Sirius shamefully admits, “I might have said I wished you were my brother. But I didn’t mean in place of Regulus! Bella has two sisters, why can’t I have two brothers?”
“Would you ever say any of that other stuff to him?”
“Of course not!” After everything, how could Sirius wish his brother dead? How could anyone, even their psychotic mother, deem Regulus unlovable?
“My point exactly!” James cries triumphantly. “Regulus isn’t afraid of you, Sirius, because you would never say those things to him. He’s afraid of some version of you he’s created in his head. My best guess is those things you… boggart-you… said are things he thinks about himself for various reasons that are NOT your fault. But because you are the most important person to him,” James holds a hand up when Sirius tries to interrupt. “I’m sure he cares deeply for his friends, but he holds you on an entirely different level. Which is why he fears such words coming from you, because it’s the worst thing imaginable in his eyes.”
More than anything, Sirius wants to believe James is right in his assumptions, wants to believe his childish actions haven’t left such profound scars on his brother. But that still begs the question - how did Regulus come to think such horrific things about himself? Sure, he’s always been shy and self-conscious, especially in comparison to Sirius and their cousins… but has he always had such low self-esteem? Undoubtedly, their fallout negatively impacted Regulus’s perception of himself, but did Sirius cause it, or just worsen it? At the end of the day, does it even matter? Or is Sirius merely looking for a way to feel better about himself?
“Yeah, maybe,” Sirius placates, granting himself permission to sink into James’s embrace when his friend holds his arms open. He doesn’t deserve to be comforted, but he’s always struggled denying himself what he wants. Self-discipline? Don’t know her. “But I can tell something else is on your mind, so spit it out.”
Dear Merlin, if James is about to confess to dating Regulus or something even vaguely along those lines, Sirius swears he’s going to self-combust.
But James goes in an entirely different, though no-less difficult, direction. “Did you really have to ask Snape for help?”
“I did,” Sirius sighs, resting his forehead on James’s insanely buff shoulder, when the fuck did that happen?
“We could figure it out together! You invented those brownies completely on your own, after some trials.” And errors, so many errors. “You could easily whip up an antidote!”
“I’m sure we could,” Sirius replies evenly. This fight is pointless - what’s done is done. In fact, they should probably get back to that. There’s no telling how long they’ve been in this room. “But the longer Reg stays like this, the worse it could get… some of the stuff he’s already said…” The amount of stuff he could say is terrifying.
“Trust me, I get it. But Snape?”
“I don’t think you understand the lengths I’d go to for Regulus, mate.”
“Actually... I think I do.” Something in his friend’s tone has Sirius lifting his head; he’s taken aback by the sheer intensity of James's expression. “How old were you?”
What kind of question is that? “Uhh… nearly two when Reg was born…?”
“I meant, how old were you when you got this?” Grabbing his left hand, James turns it over, trailing a finger across the scar on Sirius’s palm. “Blood magic?”
Ripping his hand out of his friend’s grasp, he shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Of course, James suddenly accepts that Sirius was telling the truth about how he acquired his scar, go figure. He should change the topic… but Grandmother always said Sirius was too curious for his own good… “What made you finally realize?”
“Bunch of things.” James counts off his points on his fingers. “The way you’re so attuned to him, the ‘all magic has purpose, it’s the intention behind it that matters’ thing, meeting in the Blood Magic section, and I have a theory, see! What do you and Remus have in common that could have contributed to your…” He gestures in the general direction of Sirius’s face. Merlin, he forgot all about the phases of the moon on his forehead, and the silvery shading on half of his face.
“We’re ridiculously good looking?”
James rolls his eyes. “I sometimes forget how humble you are. But no. You both have scars from something Dark, in your case, Blood Magic, in his… well, you know. It’s just a theory, obviously, I mean, your scar is on your hand, so maybe I’m wrong.” He shrugs when he sees Sirius’s skeptical look. “So, I take it he doesn’t know?”
“No. And he never will, James, you have to swear to me you will never say anything to Reg, never hint about it, nothing. He cannot know about this.”
James swears he won’t tell, completing the vow with a sacred pinky promise. “How is that possible, though? From my understanding, that type of magic typically requires two consenting parties?” Sensing Sirius’s surprise, he beams. “I’ve been doing some reading!”
“Regulus would be impressed.” Sirius barely succeeds in smothering his, ‘Ah-ha!’ when James preens in response. “He’s a big proponent of broadening one’s knowledge.”
“Well, I’m big on… wait, you’re trying to distract me!” Damnit! That should have worked. “So, Blood Magic needs consent between each party, unless you’re cursing someone, right?”
“Knowing my pessimistic little brother, he might say he was cursed.”
James’s expression darkens. “That’s not funny, mate.”
“No,” Sirius sighs. “No, it’s not.” (It kind of is).
With the understanding that this is something James isn’t going to drop without a proper explanation, Sirius keeps his voice low, even after casting layers of privacy charms on the room - it’d be just his luck for someone to overhear what is, without question, his deepest, ‘darkest’ secret.
Notes:
Eeeek, next chapter will be entirely in the past, and we will finally learn several major secrets Sirius has been keeping from Regulus! I'm sure you've already worked out one of them, but there's a lot more to it.
For anyone who's a bit confused about how Regulus's boggart manifested, James's explanation here is pretty spot on, but future chapters will expand on it, too.
Chapter 20: 'Cause Two Can Keep a Secret, if One of Them is Death
Notes:
This chapter is shorter than others, but a lot more intense, so I thought it was best to leave it as is.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
It started with a dream.
It was a dream Regulus had off-and-on for as long as he could remember, Sirius would come to learn. Regulus was six when he finally told Sirius about it; they were sharing a room at Grandmother’s when his brother woke up much earlier than usual. It wasn’t apparent that Regulus had a nightmare - there was no tossing and turning, no frantic muttering or jerking awake… but the haunted look in his brother’s eyes told Sirius much more than was ever said aloud. After a sufficient amount of nagging, this ‘simple’ dream was explained; whenever Regulus himself featured in his dream, a cloaked figure would appear. Lurking in the background of the dreamscape, it never spoke… until now.
‘It is almost time, Regulus Black. I will be waiting.’
The dream was much more disturbing to Sirius than it was to Regulus. He asked his brother to draw the cloaked figure on a piece of parchment, nearly fainting when Regulus drew exactly what he’d been picturing in his mind; Death. Bringing the parchment to his grandparents’ attention proved to be a waste of time; even Grandmother brushed off Sirius’s concerns, Grandfather saying it was nothing more than a child’s active imagination, ‘No doubt your useless father’s fault for allowing his young, impressionable son to read those rubbish stories by that Bard fellow.’ But with Regulus’s history of illness, Sirius took the dreams for what they were - a warning.
Sirius spent the next few months sneaking through the shadier sections in the libraries of every Black residence, looking for something that would help his brother. His quest resulted in nothing useful… until Grandfather himself inadvertently pointed him in the right direction. And thank Merlin he did! Just weeks later, Regulus’s next illness proved to be too much for his battered body to handle.
Never in a million lifetimes will Sirius forget that day; Regulus had been bedridden for almost two weeks by then, his frail body covered by a mound of blankets, making him appear even smaller than usual. The bones in his hands protruded whenever he reached for his water goblet, his cheeks hollowed from the feeble amount of food he managed to consume since the illness took hold. Naturally pale, Regulus’s skin was stained rouge from the fever that kept his temperature climbing higher and higher; beads of sweat dripped from his hairline, but he shivered, insisting he was cold. Relatives popped in to wish the youngest Black well, one after another, an endless parade of Blacks and Black-adjacents. Regulus slept through a majority of the visits, but Sirius spoke to every visitor, adamantly refusing to leave his post at his brother’s bedside, privacy be damned. He observed their expressions when they entered - wary, skeptical, unsure if Regulus was really that sick. He observed their expressions when they left - disconcerted, upset, rattled, that poor boy, he didn’t deserve this, it’ll all be over soon, he’ll be in a better place.
No one believed Regulus would survive.
And technically?
Technically, they were right.
Only Sirius and Regulus were in the room at the time. Their parents ordered Kreacher to throw together a supper for their guests, leaving their sons alone so they could focus on what they actually loved - hosting events, being the center of attention, gossiping with other snobby Purebloods, etc. Regulus had requested Sirius read his favorite novel aloud… for what must have been the thousandth time in the three years since he was given the book… but fell asleep before the completion of the second chapter. Determined to keep his mind occupied with something other than endless rumination, Sirius began writing a sequel to the story, something Regulus would enjoy hearing when he felt better.
So absorbed in his work, Sirius had nearly fallen off the bed when his brother unexpectedly shifted to look at him. Gray eyes bright and focused for the first time in days, Regulus spoke in a crystal clear voice, ‘He's here. He says it’s time. But don’t worry, Siri, I’ll be alright.’
Sirius didn’t need to ask who ‘he’ was, it couldn’t be anyone else; that knowledge didn’t prevent him from begging Regulus to stay, begging his brother to tell the man trying to steal him away to take a hike, go find some other soul to reap.
Regulus laughed weakly, but shook his head. ‘I’m… I’m scared, but I’m so tired, Sirius. It hurts, everything hurts, all the time, each day worse than the last. But he says soon, I'll never feel pain again, won't that be great? I'm sorry, brother, I'm sorry for being weak, I know it's shameful, I’ve never been strong like you -'
'You're not weak, Reggie, don't say such lies! You're ill, which is not your fault either.'
'Promise me something?'
'Anything,' Sirius had whispered, heart in his throat. He had to keep it together for Reggie. 'Anything you want, my little star. Just tell me, and it's yours, I swear it.'
'Promise you’ll think of me whenever you look to the stars, okay? It’s my turn to watch over you, big brother.’
Then, without waiting for a response, Regulus’s eyes fluttered close.
And Sirius knew.
He knew his brother, his best friend, was gone.
A desperate, broken scream clawed its way out of Sirius’s throat, his worst nightmares coming to fruition. His magic rose up around him, volatile, fierce, devastated, wrecking everything in the room except the bed they were atop. The bedroom door slammed closed, a barricade of the remaining pieces of furniture, the pieces that weren’t incinerated in the initial burst of magic, flying into place, cutting them off from the rest of the house. Sirius moved without conscious thought. He’d extensively researched Blood Magic after Grandfather’s rant about it, brought on by an article in the Daily Prophet reporting the Ministry passed a law banning the branch of magic except in certain instances, in which a permit must then be obtained. It had once been heavily prominent in Pureblood wedding ceremonies; newlyweds would perform a ritual in front of their guests, a ritual that bound husband and wife together with something more permanent than words, putting a nearly literal spin on the concept of 'together in sickness and in health… for as long as we both shall live’ (that was one of the few times in memory that Father, Mother, and their siblings fully agreed on a contentious topic - they were adamantly against the practice, while Grandfather Arcturus and Grandmother Melania were in favor).
Blood Magic wasn’t just for spouses, though. Sirius found a suitable incantation for his needs in a tattered book in the depths of the library in Black Manor. The spell was designed to transfer some of his own ‘magical essence’ into his brother, and vice versa; if completed correctly, his magic would mix with his brother’s own, ideally providing Regulus’s immune system the boost it needed to fight off the infections and illnesses constantly plaguing him. What effect would Regulus’s magic have on Sirius? Theoretically, nothing more than what was standard for the ritual - they would have insight into the other’s emotions, even from great distances. If his brother had some specific magical aptitude, Sirius's own magical abilities in that area would likely increase. With practice, they could use their connection to find the other anywhere in the world, almost as if they were following an invisible tether… which would do wonders for Sirius’s peace of mind, having recently been kidnapped himself. Imagine if the same were to happen to his baby brother?!
There were two reasons Sirius could think of as to why such magic had not been suggested already (okay… three reasons, but the third was that no one actually knew why Regulus got sick all the time. There were an abundance of theories, sure, but nothing definitive, meaning Sirius had no clue if the ritual would help in that regard. But it was the only lead he had, so he had to try.)
Reason one: the connection was permanent, so if something disastrous happened to one of them, the other would experience a variety of negative consequences, the degree of which depended on the strength of their bond. If Merlin forbid, one of them died, a part of the other person would die too… or at least that’s what it felt like, according to those who’ve experienced such a tragedy (hence the recent Ministry ban… hundreds of witches and wizards died during the rise of Grindelwald, including a decent chunk of Purebloods, bringing attention to the plight of surviving spouses - those who hadn’t performed a Blood Magic ritual when they married were much better off than those who had).
Reason two: Sirius had heard the whispers of the grown-ups, many of whom believed Regulus didn’t possess magic, that he was a Squib, which 'explained' why he was sick all the time (Sirius didn't understand that thought process - why would being a Squib automatically make someone more prone to illnesses?!). Regardless, it was all codswallop, Regulus did have magic. Sure, it was shyer than Regulus himself was, but Sirius had seen plenty of small instances already. Besides, his brother was only six and a half! No one ever listened to Sirius, but he knew his brother wasn’t a Squib, magically weak, or any such hogwash.
A major, unforeseeable problem arose when Sirius was ready to put his plan into action - the ritual wasn’t one-sided. Regulus needed to say the words too, needed to willingly combine his blood with Sirius’s, needed to be alive to benefit from the effects of his magic mixing with Sirius’s own. He’d never figured out how to bring up the subject with his brother, kept telling himself he was just waiting for the right time, tomorrow, I’ll suggest it tomorrow, and I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.
Never one to give up at the first sign of difficulty, Sirius made a few corrections to the spell, thank you, stupid Latin lessons Mother and Father insisted upon. The altered incantation flowed smoothly from his lips, the pocket-knife he pilfered from Uncle Alphard’s house gliding across his skin, practically painless; Sirius’s blood swelled to the surface as if it understood the urgency of the situation. For the ritual to work, his blood needed to enter Regulus’s body, so with no other viable option, Sirius tilted his head back and carefully dripped the liquid into his mouth (cutting Regulus's hand could have sufficed, but Sirius refused to allow his brother to suffer needlessly).
Throughout the process, all Sirius could think was please work, please work, please, please, please.
‘All magic has purpose, it’s the intent that matters’, Grandmother always said. So, Sirius focused on his pure, unconditional love for his younger brother, images flashing through his mind’s eye of his most treasured memories of Regulus. He thought of the wish he made every time he blew out the candles of his birthday cake, the same wish he made whenever he saw a shooting star - for Regulus to live a long, happy, healthy life.
At some point during the last segment of the spell, Sirius had squeezed his eyes shut… meaning he all but jumped out of his skin when his brother spoke.
‘He’s here, Sirius. He’s here, and he’s displeased’.
Regulus didn’t allow time for questions, didn’t give Sirius a moment to bask in the relief that his spell… his spell actually worked. Freeing his hand from its blanket prison, Regulus reached for Sirius’s own, his skin ice cold to the touch. Following the younger’s gaze, Sirius’s heart skipped several beats when he saw the cloaked figure in the corner room, nearly tall enough to reach the ceiling. Slender hands slowly lowered the hood covering its face, revealing a frighteningly beautiful, regal-looking man. With piercing purple eyes and wavy black hair that fell to his ears, he possessed a timeless look, making it impossible to tell his age. Majestic wings, the same color as his hair, were furled close to his body; Sirius was sure they'd span the length of the room if stretched fully out.
‘You have stolen from me,’ the man said, not angrily, but like he was stating a simple fact. His voice was even more alluring than his physical appearance. ‘There is no fairness in Death, young one, you will do well to remember that.’
Rage flowed through Sirius’s veins, all encompassing, drowning out every other emotion. How dare this attractive bastard try to take his brother from him! Gripping tightly to Regulus’s hand, Sirius fingered the handle of the pocket knife in his other, hidden from view by the pile of blankets. ‘Regulus isn’t yours, he’s mine. You can’t have him now, come back in another hundred years!’
The man smirked at his brashness. ‘I require payment now, I’m afraid. Tell me insolent child - would you trade your life for his?’
‘Yes,’ Sirius said without hesitation, shushing Regulus when he tried to protest. ‘If I must pick between us, then I choose to save my brother.’
‘I sense no dishonesty in your words,’ Death hummed, expression briefly showing his surprise. ‘Many make such audacious claims, though very few are willing to follow through with it.’ He sighed, looking regretful. “Unfortunately, I cannot be bartered with.’
The imposing figure reminded Sirius of every adult he’s ever met, in the worst way possible - they'd say one thing, then change everything up at the drop of a hat. ‘Fine, then PISS OFF! You’re not taking my brother, I won’t let you!’
Several things happened at once; Death waved a hand in their direction, magically pulling Regulus towards him. With a guttural cry, Sirius released the knife he’d hidden from Death’s view, throwing it precisely like Uncle Gio showed him. A sharp crack echoed through the room, followed by a haunting, reverberating laughter. But the loudest sound of all? Regulus’s panicked screams.
When Sirius’s brain caught up to what was happening, he found his brother on the floor, crawling towards a bleeding Viry (short for Virmin), the head house elf at Black Manor. She dropped Grandmother’s hand to yank Sirius’s stolen pocket-knife out of her chest (‘Master Sirius should not be throwing knives indoors, he is forgetting the rules. Viry is grateful the young Master has poor aim’). Kreacher popped in with Grandfather… and then popped out with Viry (who survived with not even a scar, thank Merlin).
Sirius responded to Grandfather’s enraged shout, ‘Just what the bloody hell did you do, boy?!' with the truth, ‘My duty to my brother, Grandfather. Nothing more, nothing less.’ Grandmother Melania then swiftly took charge of the situation, never once asking for an explanation - it was obvious what Sirius did. She helped Regulus back into bed after discreetly cleaning the dried blood off his lips, while Grandfather bandaged Sirius’s hand, warning him his ‘foolishness’ would result in a scar. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from telling them about their experience with Death. ‘I told you Regulus’s dreams had meaning, didn’t I?’ Whatever he expected them to say in response, it wasn’t, ‘Well, of course those dreams had meaning! But what could we do, Sirius? Not even the Ancient House of Black can escape Death’s summons’. His grandparents worked together to repair Sirius’s mass destruction of Regulus’s designated sick room, Grandfather grumbling under his breath the entire time. ‘Not even the smallest of signs of the Black’s Necromancy talent for generations… the ancient gift of our ancestors, gone… our noble blood sullied by outsiders… yet Death personally visits these two?!… absolutely unbelievable’.
They waited until Regulus had fallen asleep to discuss what would come next; after a brief deliberation, Grandmother removed the memory of what transpired that evening from Regulus’s mind, and they agreed on a cover story to tell everyone, Regulus included.
Time passed, with no reappearance from Death. Sirius had just managed to convince himself he imagined the whole ordeal when the bloke decided to pop back into their lives, as if Death suddenly remembered Regulus existed after Grandfather passed away from Dragon Pox last December.
This go around, Death decided to shake things up - by ‘haunting’ Sirius instead.
Except… he was actually instrumentally helpful in keeping Regulus alive? The pessimistic part of Sirius’s brain argued that Death’s grudge against them was probably why Regulus was constantly in one perilous situation after another. But it couldn’t be disputed that his brother continued to walk among the living - that counted for something, right?
Again, it all started with a dream; Sirius was covertly observing the Slytherin team practice under James’s Invisibility Cloak when Travers, the shittiest Beater on the four House teams, flew directly into Regulus’s path, knocking the Seeker clean off his broom. He watched helplessly, unable to move or speak, as his unconscious brother plummeted towards the ground. An unseen voice, one Sirius instantly recognized, whispered into his ear, ‘Sirius Orion Black… look closely… this will be the last time you see your brother alive… if you don’t WAKE UP!’ The last two words were screamed so loudly, Sirius jolted awake, just in time to witness his dream playing out in real life. The dream… warning… allowed him to react quickly. He casted the first spell that came to mind, ultimately saving his brother’s life.
And it didn’t end there.
At Regulus’s Quidditch match against Ravenclaw, Death appeared out of nowhere, sitting right next to Sirius on the end of the bench. Wary of looking insane in front of his friends (even if he was slowly losing his mind), Sirius mostly ignored him. Occasionally, he'd respond to Death's endless stream of commentary throughout the match in French. Thankfully, his friends were accustomed to Sirius grumbling to himself about this or that in a language they couldn't understand, so they didn't bat an eye. When Regulus recklessly leapt off his broom to catch the Snitch, in spite of his team’s insane lead, Death tsked under his breath; when he readjusted in his seat, Sirius was terrified he was going to unfurl his wings and steal Regulus away to wherever people went when they died… but nothing happened. Or rather, something happened, but nothing Sirius would have expected. Death waved his fingers ever-so-slightly, almost impossible to see, and for the first time that day, a gust of wind blew across the field, ruffling Paxton’s robes. The Ravenclaw Seeker took his eyes off the Snitch to search for the source, undoubtedly worried he was about to be hit by a Bludger or another player, thus giving Regulus the extra second needed to snatch the golden ball out from under his nose. By the time Sirius recovered enough to process what happened, Death was gone…
For the time being.
Appearing sporadically throughout the remainder of the school year, Death did not to interfere in anymore Quidditch matches, nor did he pop into any of Sirius's dreams. Rather, he imparted his ‘sage wisdom’ on the one person who could see him. Against his will, Sirius learned all about how lack of sleep impacted the body, the varied ways overtired people have accidentally off’d themselves, the insane number of deaths attributed to Quidditch since its inception, and a whole bunch of other morbid things he actively tried to forget immediately upon hearing them. He always ignored Sirius’s questions, What the bloody hell is going on, Are you stalking me, Are you the reason Regulus isn’t sleeping, Don't you have an actual job, mate, What do you mean someone died after choking on a Snitch?!
Following his brother's last match against Hufflepuff (where Death did nothing except talk Sirius’s ear off for a majority of the game, only breaking form to give a short, memorable lecture on the negative effects even the smallest of concussions can have on brains that aren’t fully developed), the next time Regulus was 'around' for one of Death's visits was the middle of the summer, when he showed up on Day 13 of Regulus’s 16-Day coma. Their civil interactions throughout the school year were far from Sirius’s mind with his brother fighting for his life, again, frail body lying prone on the bed, the nightstand littered with empty potions bottles, the sole reason Regulus continued to breathe. Sirius screamed and screamed, hurling anything he could grab at the intruder; he drew his wand and fired off spell after spell, increasingly violent threats pouring from his lips. Death watched, expressionless, an invisible wall protecting him from the waves of destruction that followed the Black heir wherever he went. Eventually, Sirius collapsed in a heap next to his brother, too mentally and physically drained to cry. His pain was indescribable, his body and mind in constant agony, crushed by the hopelessness of the situation, all of which was worsened by his parents’ refusal to seek outside help. Was his torment entirely due to their Blood Magic bond? Sirius couldn’t say… he hoped not, he couldn’t imagine how it could get worse if the unthinkable happened to Regulus.
‘Many years have passed since our first meeting,’ Death remarked coolly, making no mention of Sirius’s temper tantrum. ‘Yet in spite of your magical tampering, your bond with your brother is no longer what it once was. I wonder… do you stand by what you said to me that night?’
Sirius swallowed; he knew exactly what Death was referring to. ‘Always.’
It was his own damn fault things were the way they were with Regulus, Sirius knew that. He was the reason their bond was destroyed, their connection severed under the fiery blaze of his uncontrollable pride... if this was his chance to make up for his betrayal of his childhood promise, Sirius would take it.
Death nodded, then turned to look at the small figure in the bed, his gaze softening when it landed on Regulus. ‘He resists the pull of darkness with the same ferocity as a legion of warriors battling enemy invaders. He is strong, that is obvious, though his strength cannot hold out forever. You mustn’t give up, Sirius Black, but you are quickly running out of time.’
‘I don’t know what more to do!’ Sirius wailed in despair. ‘My parents have forbidden me to seek help from anyone out of this house, I have scoured every book, every -’
‘Have you now?’ Death interrupted, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow. ‘Every single book in this house?’
‘Yes!...’ And just like that, Sirius suddenly remembered the pile of books he relocated from the attic to his bedroom, ones that proved to be the lifeline they’d been searching for to save the youngest Black.
The last time Death appeared, only a handful of weeks later, Sirius’s first emotion wasn’t fear. It was relief, ‘Thank Merlin I’m not the only one who can see him!’ (even if that put him in the same crazy canoe as Kreacher, so be it.)
After Regulus touched the cursed watch, Father lifted his youngest son over his shoulder and carried him precariously down the ladder, barking orders at Kreacher, Sirius, and Mother without breaking a sweat. With blood seeping out of Regulus’s eyes, mouth, ears, and other places Sirius preferred not to think about, Father deemed it best to use the bathtub as their base of operations.
‘It is not Master Regulus’s time to go!’ Kreacher had shouted all of a sudden, cutting Mother off mid-sentence. Sirius turned around in time to see the house elf send a blast of energy at their visitor, who hastily unfurled his wings to protect himself from the elven magic.
Without thinking of the consequences… per usual… or how weird it might look to his parents, Sirius grabbed Death’s hand and dragged him across the hallway, into his bedroom. He took care to angle his body in such a way that Kreacher couldn’t do something rash and risk losing their only chance for help.
‘Tell me you bring good news, or vague advice that’s not overly vague,’ Sirius pleaded, too panicked to realize until much later that he purposefully locked himself in a room with Death of all people… er, of all beings?... a bloke who could probably kill him with a simple touch, but more importantly, happened to be OBNOXIOUSLY handsome. ‘Even Mother is freaking out, and it’s only been an hour since Regulus fainted. Last time, she didn’t get antsy until the second week! Plus, neither Father nor Kreacher have been able to fully stop the blood oozing out of his pores… which has gotta be really bad for Reg’s skin!’
Without preamble, Death snapped his fingers, and a leather-bound tome appeared in his hand. ‘There is no question that the Fates have made your brother’s life more difficult than most. I believe this might ease his most recent encumbrance.’
‘He’s the nicest Black alive, probably the nicest one ever to live.’ Sirius carefully took the book from Death. It was unexpectedly light, but he could feel the power radiating from it. ‘Kinda fucked up that the Fates give him the short end of the stick.’
Death then confirmed something Sirius feared for years was likely true. ‘Regulus Arcturus Black, youngest son of Orion and Walburga Black, grandson of Arcturus Black III, possesses the truest gift of your ancient bloodline.’ It couldn’t be Necromancy… that had been a very touchy subject when Sirius randomly asked about it once. He silently hoped it was anyway, because that was better than the alternative. ‘Being able to divine the future, to alter the course of events with nothing more than words -’
‘Is a curse!’ Sirius interrupted, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. ‘I’m the heir to our line, my grandfather already told me about what happened to the other… the other Seers that cropped up every few generations. I’m sure you know all about them, considering not a single one made it to twenty-years-old!’
‘I confess, I do not understand the perception of humans,’ he shrugged. ‘To the Fates, such an aptitude is the highest of blessings. It is also true, however, that throughout their lives, every Seer will endure complex trials to ensure they continue to be worthy of such a gift. The more powerful the Seer is, the more difficulties they must overcome.’
‘That’s such a cop out!’ Sirius shouted, throwing his hands in the air. ‘You can’t give someone a gift, then turn around and be like, oh, I’m gonna torment you to make sure you’re good enough to have this ability you didn’t ask for!’
Mimicking Sirius, Death threw his hands in the air. ‘I don’t make the rules, child! And I can assure you, humans are not the only ones left to their whim.’
‘Alright, alright, I’m sorry,’ Sirius conceded. Clearly, he discovered another touchy subject. ‘Not complaining at all, and I am in fact, very grateful to you Mister Death, but… why are you helping us?’
Taking his time to answer the question Sirius foolishly blurted out, Death considered his words carefully. ‘That night so long ago, in the short span of time between when young Regulus fell asleep and your Grandmother modified his memory, I again visited him in his dreams. I was angry, my pride wounded. Bested by children?! The shame of it would have killed me if I could actually die.’ He chuckled at his own joke. ‘It was my intention to threaten him, to remind him he cannot escape me forever. The usual, you know? But he wasn’t frightened, nor was he angry. In fact, he said he would follow me wherever I wished to take him, so long as I vowed to leave his brother alone. When I asked why he would willingly come with me after everything you’d done, everything you risked for him, young Regulus responded that, if granted his own choice, he would never allow his sibling to take his place.’
Muttering a few choice words under his breath, Sirius could only shake his head. Bloody hell, Regulus really was too good for this world, huh?
‘Death is eternal, I have been doing this job far longer than you could ever comprehend. And yet… your brother’s words moved me. It is so rare that I meet people at any age who love so selflessly, so fully, and to see two children willing to give everything to protect their sibling…’ He shrugged again. ‘But who’s to say? Perhaps by aiding your brother, I too am playing directly into Fates’ hands. After all, my Mother and Aunties have always loved their games.’
(Thankfully, Sirius’s parents didn’t ask about the moment in the loo. They also accepted his fib about finding the super-useful-but-insanely-rare book under his bed, a book that mysteriously disappeared right after Regulus woke up. Did they believe his tale? Hard to say, though likely not - Sirius couldn’t shake the feeling that Father watched him more than usual for the rest of the summer, not just Reg.)
Notes:
The title for this chapter is a play on lyrics from the song 'Secret' by The Pierces.
If anyone has ever read the Heroes of Olympus series by Rick Riordan (set in the Percy Jackson universe) my take on Death in this fic was inspired by Thanatos, the God of 'Peaceful' Death.
In canon, Death was salty about the Peverell brothers escaping death (according to the Tale of the Three Brothers by Beedle the Bard), hence the creation of the Deathly Hallows; in this fic, when Regulus was 'stolen' from him, Death felt similarly. However, after talking to Reg in his dreams, his view point started to change, meaning his explanation to Sirius was honest.
So, rest assured, he is not 'tricking' Reg or Sirius in this fic, he is genuinely trying to help <3
Also, just to clarify, Sirius does NOT tell James like 90% of this lol (which will be discussed in the next chapter)
Thank you to everyone who has commented/left kudos so far, it means a lot to me!
Chapter 21: Aftermath
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Telling James the basic, bare minimum of the story made Sirius want to throw up; what led him to discover the spell, what it was designed to do, how Regulus had been in a coma… not dead… and thus unable to participate in the ritual, how his health was steadily declining, so Sirius had no choice but to act. Only one other living person knew what he had done, but even Grandmother didn’t know the full extent of it, the repercussions. What would she do if he told her he chats with Death every now and then? Commit him to St. Mungos, most likely! Sirius didn’t regret it, never would, but the idea of Regulus finding out, of having to tell him the truth, how they Obliviated him, lied to him for years, how Death personally visited them, how their connection allowed Sirius to discern super personals things Regulus had not shared with him and probably never would… would his brother ever forgive him?!
“That’s heavy mate, I'm glad you told me everything,” James mutters, squeezing Sirius's hand. Years of practice lying to his parents, his brother, his teachers... pretty much everyone he's ever met... keeps him from squirming guiltily. “But… the spell… it didn’t work exactly the way it was intended, right? Besides Regulus getting better health wise.”
Damn James for being so bloody perceptive! “You would be correct. I essentially absorbed all of the other effects. My connection to his emotions is stronger, meaning I can tell what he’s feeling, even when it’s not a strong emotion, including when he’s lying.” Sweet darling Regulus is always wracked with such terrible guilt whenever he lies to Sirius and only Sirius. It’s incredibly easy to pick up on. "Well, except for when we had that fight... the magic was confused, I guess is the only way to explain it."
"It reacted like he died, didn't it?" James whispers.
Heart in his throat, Sirius nods. That had been the worst experience of his life. Without the Marauders staying constantly by his side for those initial months... he's not being dramatic when he says he wouldn't have survived it. He didn't want to survive it. "It got easier as time went on, but -"
"That's why you picked those squabbles with him afterwards, isn't it?!" the other Gryffindor gasps. "You weren't just being petty."
He feels like he should probably be worried about how much thought his friend has put into this, but he's too exhausted to care. "Eh, you give me too much credit. Yes, some of that was because the magic always settled down for a bit whenever we interacted, and that's the only way I could get near him at school. My brother has been sassing me since he learned to talk, probably before then, so those little fights didn't have the same negative effect as the major one. Actually, I wouldn't say they helped repair our bond, which was almost completely severed after our falling out, but they kept it from disintegrating entirely." Or at least that's how it felt.
James snorts. "Probably because bickering is the foundation of all your relationships with other people."
Sad, but true. "You might be onto something. But I am also mature enough to admit I wanted his attention, and that's the only way I knew how to acquire it."
"What else happened?" his friend asks eagerly. "This is fascinating, I can't believe this all started when you were like... eight."
Sirius shrugs. “Well, from day one, I could use our bond to find him no matter how far away he was." Hmm, probably best to add a little white lie, lessen how creepy/invasive the whole thing sounds. "I became more skilled at the things he’s good at, like Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology -”
“Divination,” James supplies, hazel eyes boring into Sirius’s own.
Fuck, he needs dumber friends!
... actually, given how much thought James has clearly put into this, why would he accept such a claim? It doesn't make sense for Sirius to have received any of Regulus's magical talents considering Regulus didn't actually partake in the spell.
“We do NOT speak of it!”... wait, bloody hell, he should have denied it, he's never breathed a word of Regulus's abilities to anyone, how the fuck did James figure it out?! Better yet, why does he think Sirius is any good at it? His best mate sits next to him in class, he sees Sirius bullshit their assignments every week! “Reg’s life is hard enough as it is, do not make it worse by speaking his curse aloud. He also doesn't know he's cursed, so add that to the things you must NEVER even hint to him about!" Sirius lifts his nose in the air. "Besides, I did not acquire such ‘talent’, I'm just good at drama.” That was the truth too... at least to his knowledge, sigh.
“I don’t think that’s how it works, mate -”
Sirius doesn't hear what else his friend says; with his own emotions settling, he suddenly notices the intense euphoric feeling he’d been ignoring all morning is simply… gone. And not only is it gone, but in its place is something much more negative, a mix of so many various emotions, they're impossible to decipher individually.
“Reg’s upset, something must have happened."
Barging through the door to Reg’s tutoring room, propped open ever-so-slightly because James is clearly a genius, Sirius isn’t sure what he expects to find… certainly not Evans and Regulus giggling together on the couch. They’ve taken off their shoes, probably so they can sit comfortably while Regulus braids Evans’s hair. The cauldrons are cleaned and put away, no sign of Snape or the potions they were brewing.
“What’s going on?” James pants, slamming into Sirius’s back so unexpectedly, they nearly tumble to the ground. “Sorry, mate, didn’t think you'd stop like that.”
Regulus doesn’t look up from his task, but Sirius can see his brother's shoulders visibly tensing.
“About time!" Evans scoffs. "I was starting to wonder if you two had been eaten by the monster in the Chamber of Secrets."
The lone Slytherin mutters something indecipherable, but Sirius can take a wild guess that it’s ‘basilisk’ when Evans says, “Ooh, you think that’s what it is?”
Several apologies later, Evans finally divulges what happened in the… Merlin, forty-five minutes they were gone. She had gotten up to help Snape with the potions Sirius ‘abandoned’, and after talking a bit with him, suddenly had an epiphany - juniper berries would counteract the shrivelfig and porcupine quills, and a dash of honey wound negate the peppermint, returning Regulus’s emotions to their natural, uninhibited state. Whipping up the remedy was simple, so with that sorted, they cleaned up, and Snape headed off to his next class.
“Alright, Reg?” Sirius hesitantly asks, not convinced everything is fine, as Evans claims.
Regulus nods, but otherwise doesn’t respond.
You abandoned him again, a voice whispers in the back of his head. Why wouldn’t he be peeved? The only thing he can count on you to do is disappoint him.
“She sounds lovely,” Evans says sincerely, catching Sirius’s attention; they better not be talking about Mother!
Regulus’s smile is small, but genuine. “She is, I think you’d like her a lot.”
“I changed my mind, Reg… I’ll only introduce you to Marlene if you promise to introduce me to Pandora.” Oh, phew, okay, that makes more sense.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Lils,” Regulus laughs, conjuring a mirror out of thin air… complicated bit of magic, but probably something every Black had an innate talent for. Sirius and James share a confused look about the other part… since when are Regulus Black and Lily Evans on first-name basis, let alone nickname-basis?! “I’m finished… what do you think?”
Her gushing praise leaves Regulus flustered, soothing some of Sirius’s concerns that something in his brother was irreversibly altered during his most recent trials.
Trying to get Regulus alone for the remainder of the day proves impossible. At lunch, the younger Slytherin joins Evans at the Gryffindor table. Naturally, as a Gryffindor himself, one would think Sirius would be able to sit close to his sibling, but that isn’t the case. Regulus and Evans left a metaphorically stunned Sirius and James behind when the bell rang, so by the time they arrived at the Great Hall, literally every seat even remotely close to Regulus is filled. They end up sitting at the Slytherin table with Regulus’s friends, forced to answer question after question about what happened in the last few hours.
Dinner is worse (the lone bright side - the Starry Glamor Potion wore off for everyone, Sirius and Remus included).
Sirius had been hoping to meet up with Regulus in the Slytherin Dorms after his last class of the day, but Professor McGonagall holds him behind. He expects to be reprimanded for pranking the student body… again… and is prepared to admit fault if it means he’s allowed to leave. Of course, his plan is for naught, as his Head of House only wishes to inquire about his well-being. Sirius appreciates her concern, but he is busy. And besides, he isn’t ready to talk about it yet, wouldn’t even know where to start. Eventually, she sends him on his way. Portraits shout at him to slow down when he races past them, using every shortcut he can think of to lessen the time it takes for him to reach the Entrance Hall.
On the last set of stairs, he spots the top of Regulus’s head amongst a sea of girls. Shouting his brother’s name, Regulus glances up and waves back, then disappears into the Great Hall with his new fan club.
“At least he waved to you,” James says when Sirius reaches the ground floor, using his foot to push himself away from the wall. They follow behind a group of Hufflepuffs into the dining hall. “When I called his name, three times actually, he ignored me. But every member of his posse either stuck up their noses or glared at me... or both."
“It’s weird, mate, but I’m glad -” Sirius trails off, realizing with growing horror that Regulus is at the Ravenclaw table with Pandora, Lily Evans, Evan, Crouch, Marlene, Narcissa, even little Wylan. He spots Andromeda at the Hufflepuff table… he could sit at the Ravenclaw table, but he can literally feel Eleanor’s furious glare on him, and that’s not a mess he can handle today.
James touches his shoulder. “Come sit with us.”
Us… what a riot. There’s no us, not anymore, not in the way James means it. But without his permission, Sirius’s eyes drift to the Gryffindor table, the table that over the years grew to feel like home, the one place where he finally belonged, the place where he was surrounded by friends who cared for him. His gaze lands on Remus, automatically, like it always has, and he nearly gasps when he finds Remus already looking at him. The taller boy’s mouth lifts into a hopeful smile, sending a pang of longing through Sirius’s entire body, an ache so deep, so painful, he thinks he might collapse.
He’s not yours to have, that annoying voice in the back of his head reminds him. He belongs to someone else, and regardless, you’ll never be good enough for him, you know it’s true.
Slowly backing away, a lie forms on the tip of Sirius’s tongue, something about an overdue library book he needs to return unless he wants to incur the wrath of the librarian. In reality, he’s planning to hide out in the kitchens, maybe crawl back into Regulus’s bed, wait for him there...
Sirius bumps into someone behind him. Turning around to apologize, he stiffens when he realizes he’s looking into the obsidian eyes of one Severus Snape.
“Black,” Snape says uneasily, gaze briefly darting to James. “Pardon.”
He tries to side-step around the Gryffindor pair, but finally coming to his senses, Sirius doesn’t let him pass. Instead, his face breaks into a huge smile - who knew Severus Snape would be his saving grace?! “Oi, just the bloke I wanted to see!”
Too relieved to think of how risky his next actions might be, life is boring without a little danger anyways, Sirius amicably throws his arm over Snape’s shoulders. “Catch up with ya later, James, Sev and I have loads to discuss.” Without further ado, Sirius leads the bemused Slytherin to his house table.
Despite immediately pushing Sirius’s arm off, Snape surprisingly tells Evans thanks, but no thanks, when she leaves the Ravenclaw table to recruit her Slytherin friend to join her there. Then, in an interesting twist, it’s Snape who drags Sirius to the far end of the Slytherin table.
“Problem with Ravenclaws?” Sirius asks curiously while they fill their plates, having presumed Snape, a giant nerd if there ever was one, would get along with the house of swots.
Snape shrugs. “I prefer to eat my meals in relative silence, especially after a long day.” They both glance up when loud laughter comes from the table closest to theirs, where Barty Crouch Jr is holding court, arm casually slung over Evan Rosier’s shoulders, his audience captivated by whatever story he’s telling. Sirius could see how someone like Snape would wish to avoid such a scene, but he’s pleasantly surprised to see… and sense… that his introverted brother is enjoying himself.
Sirius doesn’t do silence, so Snape’s desire for a quiet meal is in vain. He goads his fellow fifth-year into a discussion about Muggle music, a conversation that quickly delves into an argument, each convinced their taste is superior.
“Your father must be thick for a Muggle if that’s the sort of music he exposed you to!” Sirius cries indignantly. Earth, Wind, and Fire over Queen? Black Sabbath? David Bowie? “I mean, honestly, your mum could do so much better.”
Snape angrily opens his mouth, but then shuts it, scrunching his nose. “Well, I suppose we can agree on something, Black.”
They lose themselves in a less contentious discussion regarding the mechanics of altering a portable radio to get Muggle and Wizarding music stations. So caught up in the conversation - which includes Sirius relishing in Snape's (silent but obvious) admiration that he successfully charmed a Muggle coffeemaker to work in his dorm - that when his cousin calls his name, he is stunned to realize they're back in the Slytherin Common Room.
“We heard such an interesting story earlier,” Narcissa says with a sickeningly sweet cheerfulness that has Sirius immediately on edge.
Only two words cross his thoughts - oh fuck.
Andromeda’s smile reminds him of a predator showing off its big, scary teeth to its prey. “Yes, come cousin, we’d love to hear your excuses… I’m sorry, I mean perspective.”
Snape, the bastard, flees to the safety of his dorm room, abandoning Sirius without so much as a goodbye. Bracketing him on both sides, like I'd be stupid enough to try to make a run for it?! Puh-lease, I know that's a guaranteed death sentence, the girls drag him over to the giant bay windows where Evan, Crouch, and Regulus are already congregated. His brother sends him a sympathetic smile, scooting over so Sirius can sit beside him on the window seat. It’s enough to loosen some of the stiffness in Sirius’s shoulders… maybe Regulus doesn’t hate him?
Lily Evans isn’t the one who snitched, Sirius comes to learn.
"Letting your sisters do the dirty work for you, Evan?" He scowls at the unrepentant little shit. "How gauche."
Evan blinks innocently, but Sirius isn't fooled, no sir. "I told them it was a secret, how was I supposed to know they'd turn around and tell?"
How indeed, Sirius grumbles in his head. If that wasn't EXACTLY what you thought would happen, I'll eat my hat.
Their cousins lecture him so severely, Sirius offhandedly thinks that Auntie Druella would be insanely proud of her youngest daughters. Grandfather always said - out of earshot of his wife - that no one can harp and grouse like a Black woman, even if they married into the family. When the girls finally take a break from reprimanding him, surely using the time to come up with something else Sirius should be admonished for, Regulus clears his throat.
“Pardon, but I know better than to eat anything my brother concocts,” Regulus says aloofly, meeting no one’s gaze. “I alone endured the consequences of my impulsive actions, so can we please drop the matter?”
“Absolutely not!" Narcissa fumes. "I don’t think Sirius understands the severity of what he did by creating such a thing to begin with!”
Andromeda nods sharply. “You are aware of the rules the elder Blacks have set regarding magical experimentation, Regulus... or do you need a refresher course?”
"No!" the brothers cry at the same time.
“Why are there rules against that?” Crouch holds his hands up when all five of them look at him with incredulous expressions. “Blimey, sorry for asking.”
“It’s a good question, Barty,” Queen Andromeda benevolently concedes.
Sirius and Regulus share an exasperated glance when their cousins begin another lecture, this time about the inherent hazards in creating new spells and developing unique potions from scratch. It’s not forbidden, but the gist basically comes down to, ‘Blacks don’t take unnecessary risks.’ As Hogwarts students who have yet to complete their magical education, the youngest generation of Blacks would endure harsh punishments if any of their elder relatives were to learn they engaged in such reckless pursuits without proper supervision, especially Sirius, since he’s the heir. Cissa and Andie are blowing this way out of proportion, though. Sirius was careful… most of the time… and he used all the safety techniques Grandmother drilled into his head… most of the time. But dear Merlin, it’s no wonder Evan and Reg are always so anxious if this is the sort of tripe they listen to day after day!
Salvation comes in the form of Justin Fawley, the mediocre and wholly unimpressive seventh-year Slytherin Quidditch Captain. He cautiously approaches their group, wise enough to be wary anytime two or more Blacks are gathered together. After Andromeda drops their privacy spells, Fawley apologizes for the intrusion, then goes on to explain that he only wished to inform Regulus that his presence was expected on the pitch this Saturday at 10am sharp, as the returning players will be meeting to discuss the impending tryout that will be held in the weeks to come.
“We’ll ensure Regulus is there,” Andromeda says when the boy in question remains silent, her most charming smile in place.
Staring blankly out of the window into the depths of the lake, Regulus has yet to acknowledge his Captain’s presence. Weirder - he didn’t react at all when Sirius poked him in the side… knowing how ticklish his brother is, that lack of response is legitimately worrisome (Sirius would ignore Fawley too, the git). Did their cousins' endless lectures cause Regulus's brain to shut down?
Narcissa's grin looks more like a grimace than anything else. “Thank you, Justin.”
With one last look of concern directed towards his youngest player, Fawley is about to walk away when Regulus finally tears his gaze away from the water. “Oh, hullo, Justin. Good summer?” Without waiting for an answer, he quickly follows up with, “How’s Pierre?”
A harmless question, really, shouldn’t be cause for concern...
Except there’s a frighteningly familiar silver gleam in his brother’s eyes that has Sirius bracing himself for… well, he doesn’t know what exactly, but it’s bound to be dramatic.
That silver gleam... a sort of 'blink and you miss it' type of deal, easily dismissible as a trick of the light.
It wasn't, Sirius knew it wasn't, though it took years for him to put the pieces together.
Undoubtedly as the old man intended, Grandfather’s lesson on the ‘magical talents of our ancient bloodline’ sparked Sirius's brain just enough for him to finally discern the truth about his younger brother. That discussion took place in the months leading up to his departure for his first year at Hogwarts, but Sirius vehemently refused to accept their grim reality until this very summer, in spite of the insurmountable evidence proving otherwise - plain and simple, he didn't want it to be true.
Most of the ‘talents’ Grandfather mentioned were nonsense… plenty of individuals were good at Transfiguration, it had nothing to do with genetics! But some of their relatives had an penchant for Divination, an aptitude that other family members who knew guarded heavily in a bid to protect the Seer from public attention… sometimes even keeping the secret from the Seer themselves. Nowadays within the Black family, the knowledge is only passed down to the eventual heirs. During these lessons of their family history, Regulus would usually join Sirius, but Grandfather's impromptu summons while the youngest was occupied elsewhere eventually made sense.
Half-listening to the lecture, Sirius had offhandedly remarked how 'wicked' it would be to be able to predict the future or divine one’s own death, but Grandfather’s impassioned response would remain with Sirius in the years to come. The Head of the Black Family went on to list the fates of each confirmed Seer in their family tree, along with the folks who had a solid aptitude for that particular branch of magic… tragic doesn’t begin to cover it. A whopping total of zero full-fledged Seers survived past the age of twenty-years-old, and those who had a proficiency for Divination didn't fair much better. Worse, a good number of them appeared to have taken their own lives, cracking under the pressure of knowing things long before they were to come. It left Sirius unsettled, deeply unsettled, a feeling that drastically intensified when his brain completed the puzzle Grandfather had already finished - Regulus was a Seer.
The magical community tends to think of Seers as mysterious individuals who spout prophecies at every turn, who divine horrible futures from the dregs of their afternoon tea. But Seers come in many forms, just as their abilities manifest in different ways. With that being said, Sirius isn’t fully sure how his brother's power works... and since Regulus doesn't know he's a Seer to begin with, all he can do is guess. A strong intuition? Visions, even whilst awake? Voices whispering in his head? All of the above?
Regardless, Regulus has sensed 'bad' things before they occur (truthfully, Sirius believes this happens a lot more than his brother relays, but Regulus is likely wary of being perceived as paranoid or a party-pooper, so he keeps his unease to himself); other times, he knows pieces of information that he should not and could not possibly know. His talent is so subtle, and so very Regulus, it’s easy to dismiss as coincidence.
There are several instances that Sirius remembers more than others:
For Sirius’s eighth birthday, their parents reluctantly agreed to a trip to Diagon Alley so he could pick out his own gifts (if he was on his best behavior in the weeks leading up to his birthday, blah blah blah, the usual). The day finally arrived, but while they were waiting for Mother to finish preparing herself to walk amongst the peasants, Regulus's laughter at Sirius’s joke abruptly ceased, his expression becoming panicked. He then promptly burst into tears, wailing about how they shouldn’t go, they couldn’t, they needed to stay home, where it was safe. It took Sirius at least half an hour to calm his brother down, and only after pitching his own fit to force Father to agree to accompany them along with Mother, did Regulus stop crying. Hours later, when Sirius felt the tug of Apparition behind his navel, a stranger’s hand clamped around his elbow, his only thought was, ‘Merlin’s Beard, we should have listened to Reggie!’
When Sirius was ten, they were at Uncle Alphard’s countryside cottage. All breakfast, he and Regulus intently discussed the maneuvers they were going to practice to really shore up their flying skills; the sun was out, the temperature warm, but not hot, there wasn't a cloud in the sky - it was a perfect day for flying. They had just finished dressing in their ‘outdoor robes’ and were getting ready to go back downstairs, when Regulus froze, stared into space for like ten seconds, and then suddenly reversed course, ‘Actually, I don’t feel like going anymore, we should play something inside. Chess, perhaps?’. But Sirius was not having it. It took a good twenty minutes to persuade Regulus, who’s sole reason for staying in was, ‘because I want to’, that they would be much happier going outside and racing across the grounds on the newest Cleansweep brooms their uncles so kindly bought for them. One would think that after the whole Diagon Alley ordeal, Sirius might have paid more attention to sudden shifts in his brother’s mood, but he’d been too damn frustrated to really think about it. Unfortunately, their time outdoors lasted about ten minutes at most, all thanks to Sirius’s regrettable decision to fly too close to a tree, unintentionally disturbing a Glumbumble nest. Newt Scamander failed to mention in 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them' that those buggers are fucking petty, and will relentlessly chase down young wizards regardless of how many apologies or threats were shouted. And guess what Sirius is allergic to? Glumbumble stings! It was decidedly not a fun weekend… Merlin’s beard, he should have listened to Reggie!
During a World Cup qualifying match between Ireland and Romania, Regulus grabbed Sirius's arm as he got up to leave for his third trip to the loo. Looking him dead in the eye, his brother had said, 'Be careful.' Again, it seemed insignificant - Sirius had gone twice without issue, why the sudden concern? For the record, he did make the effort to pay more attention to his surroundings, but on the way back to his seat, Sirius glanced up to see what had gotten the crowd buzzing. Sweet Merlin have mercy, nothing could have prepared him for seeing Marius Eder's sculpted, mouth-watering bare torso on full display across the stadium, the image so crisp and clear that individual beads of sweat were visible... needless to say, Sirius tripped over his own feet and would have gone right over the barrier of the Top Box if Uncle Gio hadn't reacted so quickly.
Speaking of Uncle Gio... in the middle of Regulus's eleventh birthday dinner, their uncle's caretaker received an urgent summons from the French Ministry of Magic, something about the children of prominent political figures going missing. In an atypical move, Regulus had pitched a fit when the man was preparing to Apparate away... oh, he was polite about it, of course, but the youngest Black had not been keen on the idea of Uncle Gio leaving his party. Sirius had tried to reason with his brother, as did Cissa, Andie, and Uncle Alphard, but Regulus wouldn't be swayed. He was so adamant that Uncle Gio couldn't go, his 'accidental' magic flared up, manifesting as a temporary sticking charm on their linked hands. Regulus only relented when Grandmother asked Matthias to accompany Uncle Gio, despite being 'retired' from that line of work... at the time, no one understood why that appeased the youngest Black, but they didn't question it. They would later learn it was Matthias who saved Uncle Gio's life (along with a sizable portion of his pack and a squad of Aurors), having been the one who correctly identified what the werewolves were smelling - nitroglycerin, the main component in Muggle dynamite. Everyone was able to Apparate away before the criminals detonated it (blowing themselves up in the process, idiots), but without Regulus's 'misbehavior', dozens would have died in the blast.
There were less 'obvious' things too.
Like Regulus knowing that Grayson Hillhawk was caught red handed when he tried to kill another unicorn, news that assuredly wasn’t in the Daily Prophet because it was covered up by an uncle who worked for the paper, tidbits of information that Daniel Hillhawk did not dispute and all but confirmed were true. During the discussion of Smith's boggart, Regulus immediately guessing what form it took (or rather, what form it used to take, heh). When he said, 'Hogwarts needs to deal with its rodent problem,' as Remus and Peter were approaching them - Sirius hopes Regulus doesn't know that Peter is well on his way to becoming an Animagus, his form oh-so-happening to be that of a rat; Seer powers aside, his brother is DEFINITELY smart enough to realize there's no way Peter could accomplish such an impressive feat without extensive help.
Or when Regulus congratulated Bella on her engagement to Rodolphus Lestrange, confusing the fuck out of everyone and causing a huge commotion until Lestrange cleared the air, saying he hadn't actually proposed, but had been planning to that evening. Ooh, or that time they were helping Aunt Lucretia plan one of her last-minute garden parties, and Regulus saw the day she selected and said 'it's best if you don't, how about the day before?'... thankfully, she listened to his suggestion despite the Daily Prophet reporting that the entire weekend was going to be perfect for outdoor activities, because the storm that rolled in on Sunday had been terrifying.
‘Seers could shape the future’, Grandfather had declared. Sirius hadn’t necessarily understood how that was possible... quite honestly, he thought the Black patriarch was going overboard with the boasting again.
In his third year, he got his first taste of what that meant.
They’d been at Black Manor at the time, during the Easter holidays. At the dinner table surrounded by an abundance of Blacks and Black-adjacents, Bellatrix was prattling on and on about some bloke called the Lord Voldemort (cringe), and how her ‘mentor’ was working dutifully to return Pureblood families like the Blacks to their rightful seats of power, where they’d then exterminate Muggles and Muggleborns, yada yada yada.
He thinks it was actually Grandfather Pollux, Mother’s father, that started it.
“Lord Voldemorm, you say?” Grandfather Pollux hummed disparagingly. “What family is he from?”
Bellatrix’s face flushed. “It’s Voldemort. And well, I’m not sure how widely it’s known,” her smile took on a smug edge, “but he’s related to the Gaunt family, the last known descendants of the great Salazar Slytherin.”
There was a muttering of approval that made Sirius’s lip curl with disgust. This bloke and his followers were already on a warpath of destruction, growing increasingly violent day by day. Blackmailing and bribing government officials to pass all kinds of bigoted laws, including those against werewolves so they’d be more willing to turn their backs on the establishment, torturing Muggles for sport, rallying giants to their cause, killing families who refused to join his ranks. It was despicable.
“I was under the impression the last Gaunt never had an heir,” Uncle Alphard said neutrally.
Bellatrix’s chin jutted out. “Well, someone must have -”
“At least he's got the right idea about things,” Aunt Lucretia called from the other end from the table. “About time someone rallied for our cause.”
“Our family will reap the rewards if we aid his rise to power.” Sirius tensed when Bellatrix's deranged gaze landed on his younger brother. “He looks forward to meeting you, Regulus. You’ll undoubtedly be welcomed into his inner circle… when you’re older, of course,” she hastily added, correctly interpreting Grandmother Melania’s cough. “And when that time comes, I’ve asked to personally mentor you.”
"Thank you, Bella.” Ever polite, Regulus smiled primly, but Sirius could feel the waves of anxiety flowing down their bond. "I would be honored to be mentored by you... and erm, the Dark Lord too, of course."
Evidently, he wasn’t the only one who sensed the youngest Black’s nerves. “You don’t sound honored,” Bellatrix coolly retorted.
“I am, it’s just -”
"Spit it out, cousin!"
"Bella," Andromeda chided, glaring at her sister. "Let him speak."
Uncharacteristically fidgety, Regulus accidentally jabbed his elbow into Sirius's arm; rather than snapping something rude or elbowing him back, Sirius briefly squeezed his brother's hand under the table… perhaps his inner drama king picked up on it, or maybe it was some stupid, delusional hope that Regulus wasn’t as bigoted as the rest of their family, but he had a feeling something was about to go down.
He had NO idea how right he was.
"I’m rather confused, you see.”
“About what?”
Regulus winced. “Setting his accomplishments aside, w-why would our proud, pure lineage... forgive me, but isn't it contradictory for The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black to follow the the whims of a Halfblood?"
Sirius choked on his wine.
The stunned silence stretched on for a minute, broken when Bellatrix stood up so quickly, her chair crashed to the floor.
“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK SUCH DISGUSTING LIES ABOUT THE DARK LORD!” Bellatrix yelled over the chittering of their relatives, her face turning a splotchy red. "YOU'VE BEEN LISTENING TO THAT GOOD FOR NOTHING, BLOOD TRAITOR BROTHER OF YOURS -"
Grandfather Arcturus banged his fist on the table. “MIND YOUR MANNERS, BELLATRIX! Sirius is still the heir, you will do well to remember your place!” With a swish of his hand, her chair righted itself. "Now SIT DOWN, or you will be finishing your meal in the dungeon."
(In a shockingly mature move, Sirius silently continued to eat his dinner and didn’t react to his cousin’s words, lest she start hurling hexes across the table and ruin what was undoubtedly about to be the hottest gossip of the decade.)
“What do you mean, he’s a Halfblood, dear?” Grandmother Melania calmly asked, the only one at the table who appeared outwardly unaffected by the youngest’s words. “Bellatrix was just saying he’s claiming to be the Heir of Slytherin.”
Poor Regulus looked like he was going to have a stroke with all the attention directed towards him. “I think… perhaps I’m mistaken, I just… isn’t his real name Tom Marvolo Riddle? I believe I read that somewhere. And again, perhaps I’ve forgotten my lessons, but I don’t recall any Pureblood ‘Riddles’ in England, Ireland, or France.”
“Maybe he’s American,” Aunt Cassiopeia said, to which there was an outpouring of derisive mutterings.
Father’s booming voice cut through the commotion. “Tom Marvolo Riddle, you say? That Mudblood upstart?!" Sirius did not miss the exasperated looks Mother shared with her two brothers. "Bellatrix, is this true?" She shrugged petulantly. "Answer me, you insolent girl!"
"I don't know his real name, Uncle Orion," she grumbled out. "I doubt it's true, though... how could Regulus have read that somewhere, when I, one of his most trusted followers -"
"Follower, huh?" Grandfather Arcturus repeated disparagingly. "You're a Black, or have you forgotten? Disgraceful!"
"Orion, you know this Riddle fellow?" Grandmother Melania asked.
"I remember him from school. He lived in a Muggle orphanage over the summer, yet swaggered around Hogwarts like he owned the place. I never understood how he was sorted into Slytherin, but everyone fawned all over him,” he glared at his wife, "even those who should have known better."
“There were rumors that he was claiming to be the Heir of Slytherin,” Aunt Druella added conspiringly. Grandmother Melania glanced down the end of the table to Matthias, who slipped out of the room, Uncle Gio hot on his heels. “You don’t think…?”
Sirius very much did think, and he couldn’t contain himself any longer.
“You’re… you’re worshiping a Halfblood!!” Sirius cackled, tears streaming down his face. “B-bowing down to a man of mixed parentage, licking the bootstraps of a bloke with a Muggle father, acting like he's better than Merlin himself... serves you right, with your Pureblood superiority rubbish!”
Admittedly, Sirius doesn’t know what all went down behind the scenes. Slytherin politics, assuredly. But by the start of summer, this ‘Dark Lord’ was no more… likely dead, though there was no proof, so perhaps the bastard simply slithered back into the hole he'd come out of, in a bid to save his own skin. The whole thing was subtle, very low key; one day the front page of the Daily Prophet was nothing but doom and gloom, the next, it was back to the standard pedantic foolishness, business as usual. It was an eerily quiet ending given the previous chaos, though Sirius couldn't begin to fathom what the world would have looked like, had Regulus not made that comment during dinner.
No one, not even Grandmother, would tell Sirius the finer details, simply said, 'The less you know, the better. That man was a nasty piece of work, Sirius Orion, you will do well to remember that no wizard or witch can permanently escape Death, and it’s a waste of time to try.’ (Of course, that only made him want to know even more, but alas, he could pinpoint a losing battle when faced with one). Before returning to school at the end of Easter break, Sirius had been required to make the Unbreakable Vow with his grandparents to never discuss what he learned that night to, ‘protect both yourself and Regulus’. According to the paltry information he needled out of a tight-lipped Andromeda, Bellatrix was heartbroken, yet utterly incensed by the 'betrayal'. They hardly saw her again until the following year, where Sirius did his best to give her a wide berth. He kept a closer eye on Regulus than usual, in case she sought revenge, but she treated him as if nothing ever happened, perhaps realizing he did her a huge favor by revealing the truth of her mentor's parentage. One thing Bella was right about though - how could Regulus have known such information? Clearly, the bloke hadn't gone around advertising his real name!
Whether Regulus was abruptly changing their plans or making offhand, spot on comments, his eyes always flashed with that silver gleam. Again, it's subtle, but Sirius knows his brother’s eyes better than he knows his own. To him, it's an obvious change, and undeniably holds a connection to his ‘gift’. Several times, Sirius has almost told Regulus the truth, but the words always elude him. Perhaps it's due to Grandfather's firm belief that Regulus was safer not knowing, 'if he knows, he may seek to harness his power, and as history has taught us, Sirius Orion, that can be a very dangerous thing'.
Fawley stiffens like someone hit him with a Petrificus Totalus. “Pierre is fine… well, I assume he is, but I wouldn’t know.”
The implication of such a statement has gasps ringing out, from Sirius included. Certainly not a fan of his former-Captain by any means, even he can admit Pierre Legrand and Justin Fawley were bloody perfect for each other.
The news is so shocking, in fact, that it has Narcissa tactlessly blurting, “He broke up with you?!”
“No.” When she continues to stare expectantly at him, the Slytherin Keeper reluctantly adds, “I ended our relationship prior to the start of the school year.”
Crouch voices what they’re all wondering… except maybe Regulus, who’s eyeing his Captain with such profound scrutiny, it’s making Fawley visibly uncomfortable. “Why?!”
“Between studying for N.E.W.T.s, Prefect duties, and captaining the Slytherin team, I don't have time for a relationship, long distance or not.”
“You did all of that last year, though,” Sirius points out. “Except second semester, you were Captaining a predominantly brand new team and had only a month to train them before their first game.” Resulting in Ravenclaw's brutal, embarrassing, and frankly, unexpected slaughter. “Personally, that sounds more strenuous than attempting to hold onto the title you already have, even if this is the year you’ll sit for your N.E.W.T.s. Plus, you have six returning starters, and Pierre doesn't live in the castle -”
“It’s NONE of your business!” Fawley interrupts, his cheeks reddening with anger, absolutely no manners at all, I'm not sure how Reggie stands it. Turning back to Regulus, he says, “Saturday, Quidditch Pitch, 10am, bring your broom. Good day!”
“Best to make it 9am," the Seeker says with a serene smile. "And please be sure to invite Professor Slughorn, he’ll need to be there as a witness.”
When no additional information is forthcoming, Andromeda hesitantly asks, “What precisely is he witnessing?”
“Per the Hogwarts Quidditch handbook, in section 253, subsection 12, a player with two or more years of playing experience may initiate a vote to supplant their team Captain -”
“Are you... are you serious?” Fawley asks when he finally overcomes his shock.
Lifting his nose in the air, Regulus sniffs, “No, of course not." The Slytherin Captain relaxes minutely, which is foolish of him, really, because the younger Seeker immediately follows with, “I’m Regulus.”
Sirius chuckles out of habit, but no one else so much as cracks a smile.
“On what grounds?!”
“Heh, don’t mind him, he's feeling under the weather.” Draping an arm over his brother's shoulders, Sirius hisses, ‘What the fuck are you doing?!’
“On the grounds that the current Captain is undeniably," Regulus shoves his arm off, "a blithering idiot.”
The older Slytherin's face briefly shows his genuine hurt at the barbed comment, but he quickly schools his expression into something neutral. “I see... well, clearly you’re still upset over the ban from those practices last semester -”
“Eh, water under the bridge,” Regulus remarks, waving his hand dismissively.
Fawley looks doubtful, but oh, how Sirius knows better! All summer, it was, ‘Justin said this’, “Justin said that’, ‘Well, Justin thinks’, Justin, Justin, Justin, same as it’s been since Regulus first went to Hogwarts, even before he joined the Quidditch team. Really, Sirius is quite embarrassed to have been so taken aback upon learning that his little brother was gay.
Justin Fawley was to Regulus, what Frank Longbottom was to Sirius.
(Except Frank is way better, obviously.)
“I didn’t realize you wanted to be Captain so badly that you’d attempt to usurp the position I’ve rightfully earned -”
Standing up, Regulus draws himself up to his full height, staring at his offended, much taller, much more muscular Captain dead on. “I’m simply doing you a favor, Justin. Someone else can replace you, doesn't have to be me, leaving you with plenty of free time to focus on your relationship -”
“My personal life is none of your concern, Black -”
“Yeah? My personal life was none of your concern last year -”
Fawley's expression becomes triumphant. “So, this is about those bans from practice -”
Regulus raises his voice to be heard over his Captain's. “And yet you still spent months asking me if I was okay, if I was sleeping alright, reminding me that if I needed someone to talk to, I could always come to you. Salazar, you even wrote to me over the summer to check in, even though each and every time, I told you I was fine!"
"Well, sorry for fucking giving a damn -"
"Do you remember what you said when I asked why you wouldn’t leave it alone?”
“No."
“You said,” Regulus grabs the older boy’s face when he tries to look away, "‘friendship isn’t always sunshine and roses, sometimes being a good friend means making the hard choice to do right by that person, even if they resent you for it.”
“This isn’t that same -”
“Isn’t it?” the Seeker scoffs, dropping his hands back to his side. “So what if you get an ‘E’ on your N.E.W.T.s instead of an ‘O’? So what if we don’t win the Quidditch Cup again? Will you give two fucks about either of those things ten years from now when you’re alone and bitter, pushing paper at some desk job at the Ministry that sucks a bit of your soul out with each passing day?”
Noticing Fawley’s fingers twitching, like he’s thinking of drawing his wand, Sirius hastily rises to stand behind his brother. The combination of his intimidating presence and patented Sirius-Black-Stink-Eye-Of-Doom should serve as a sufficient deterrence, lest Fawley get any funny ideas.
“Why do you care -”
“BECAUSE I WOULD GIVE EVERYTHING TO HAVE SOMEONE LOOK AT ME THE WAY PIERRE LOOKS AT YOU!” he screams in response, startling everyone in their group - Regulus rarely raises his voice to begin with, but even less so in public. “He looks at you like he’s so in love with you, like he’s the luckiest guy in the world to simply know you, let alone be your boyfriend, and you look at him EXACTLY the same way! To have found someone who matches you so perfectly, at such a young age..." Regulus shakes his head. "Then you want to turn around and throw it away for grades, for some useless school trophy that won’t mean anything after you leave these halls? I just... I cannot bear such a thought, Justin, I'm sorry, but I won't let you do it.”
Sirius exchanges a quick ‘what-the-fuck’ glance with his cousins, followed by an accusatory 'are-you-the-one-giving-him-romance-novels' side-eye. Has Regulus always been a secret romantic at heart? Maybe? But Sirius’s older brother instincts are screaming that there’s more to the story. Now, if only he can figure out what that is...
Something in Regulus’s impassioned speech seems to resonate with the older Slytherin. With a groan, he sags forward, dropping his forehead onto his Seeker’s shoulder. “Oh Merlin and Morgana, you're right, you're so fucking right... I really have been a blithering idiot, haven't I?”
“Absolutely,” Regulus bluntly responds while patting his Captain’s back consolingly.
“Do you think he’ll take me back? Or at least forgive me?”
“Hmm... are you willing to admit you were wrong, grovel for his forgiveness, and come up with some sort of grand gesture to demonstrate your commitment?” Fawley nods fervently, earning himself a look of approval. “Then, I have no doubt that he'll forgive you, and in time, take you back.” Eyes glinting silver, Regulus speaks the truth.
Crouch smirks knowingly. “You have a plan, Reg?”
“I sure do, and I know just the person who can help pull it off!” As if sharing one mind, the three younger Slytherins turn to look at Sirius; Evan and Crouch are the only ones unfazed by the diabolical grin Regulus is now sporting.
“Me?” Sirius squeaks, not sure if he likes where this is going.
Regulus’s eyes widen into the sort of innocent expression that must work fabulously on his teachers. “I mean… can the infamous prankster Sirius Black not sneak out of Hogwarts without getting caught? Or is that something he can only pull off when he’s with one of his friends?”
“Of course he can do it, how dare you question his abilities?!” Sirius cries indignantly. “It was he who found five of the secret passageways out of the castle, to James’s one… sneaking off the grounds is a bloody piece of cake!” Given his brother’s triumphant look, he definitely lost. “Ugh, fine, I’ll help. When?”
“No time like the present.”
Sirius wags a finger in his brother’s face. “Nuh uh, Reggie. First rule of sneaking about - wait until curfew has passed. Much easier to slip into secret passageways when people aren’t walking by.” He turns to Fawley. “If you legitimately want to go tonight, meet back here in an hour. And for the record, I’m only showing you the passageway, I’m not joining you, so you have an hour to decide just how much you trust me.”
“I don’t trust you for shite." Fawley inclines his head towards Regulus. “But I trust him, and he trusts you.”
“Sirius won’t let you down!” Regulus says with so much conviction, it makes Sirius want to curl up in a ball and weep. He’s so undeserving of his brother’s trust.
Notes:
Anddd we finally find out why Voldemort isn't in the picture! I have so many thoughts on the whole 'secret identity' thing, I had to work it into this story lol. Did canon-Bella know he had a Muggle father? If she didn't (which I feel like she didn't), how would she feel learning the truth, especially relatively early on?
Chapter 22: Battle of the Black Brothers
Notes:
This chapter could otherwise be titled: A Stark Reminder That Sirius and Regulus Are Indeed Brothers... and yes, both titles are Game of Thrones inspired ;)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Remembering at the last second he needs to be quiet, Sirius catches the frame of the door before it can (loudly) announce his return. Gently shutting it, he rests his back against the wood and squeezes his eyes closed. Thankfully, the fourth-year Slytherin boys are already in bed with their curtains drawn, meaning no one is awake to see his moment of weakness. Sirius's legs wobble like he was hit with a Jelly-Legs Jinx; he wants nothing more than to sink to the ground, but self-awareness is so cumbersome. If he gives into the urge, he’ll never get up. And then what will he tell Regulus the next morning… or rather, Evan and Crouch since they’ll wake up first… when they find him sprawled on the ground in such an undignified manner? Certainly not the truth, what horror!
Stupid, stupid, stupid, why would you bloody think that was a good idea?! Sirius internally berates himself. Who in their right mind decides to search for a boggart in the middle of the night, alone, with no one knowing their whereabouts JUST to see if their greatest fear is still the same?! Oh, if Grandmother found out I did such a thing… with a shudder, he cuts that thought off before he somehow ignites her, ‘My-Grandson-Is-Acting-Moronic’ senses. If anyone could figure out how to Apparate into Hogwarts, it would be Melania Black.
Pride will be your downfall, you foolish, idiotic boy, another voice scoffs, this one sounding way too much like Mother to be comfortable. Worse, she's it's probably right.
With one last shuddering breath, Sirius pushes away from the door and goes to collect his bed clothes. If he was back in Gryffindor, he likely would have gone straight to bed without a shower, well-aware he would hate himself the next morning for making such a disgusting choice. But Regulus would assuredly murder Sirius in cold blood if he climbed into bed all sweaty and grimy, so he washes up quickly, warmed by both the heat of the water and the knowledge that he’ll soon get to snuggle with his brother… his alive brother... and perhaps shed a few thousand, silent tears before succumbing to sleep (Sirius’s childhood may not have been the best, but being able to bawl his eyes out without making a sound has proven to be a useful skill at Hogwarts).
As quietly as possible to avoid waking Regulus up, Sirius slides back the bed curtains… only to let out a shriek so mortifyingly shrill, he’s honestly surprised the window pane doesn't crack.
“Why are you still awake?!” he chastises in a bid to distract Regulus from mocking him; he had no idea his voice could go that high! “It’s nearly one in the morning, Reg. Did you forget you have class tomorrow?”
“You were gone for hours, I thought something might have gone awry.”
Blegh, Sirius should have anticipated that his brother's worry over the fate of his hero, Fawley the Great, would mean he’d forgo sleeping until he learned the outcome of their perilous quest.
“We arrived at the secret passageway without any problems,” Sirius mutters while climbing into bed, mentally crossing his fingers that the noise generated from closing the curtain prevents Regulus from hearing the annoyance in his tone. What’s so remarkable about the Slytherin Captain anyways? “I’m sure Fawley made it just fine to wherever Pierre lives these days.”
“He's in Dorset.” Pshhh, of course Pierre Legrand would play for Puddlemere United right after graduation, the bloody wanker. “Fielded offers from nearly every team in Europe, including some where he’d automatically join the starting lineup. But he wanted to stay close to home.”
Sirius can’t hold back his scoff. “Well, isn’t that lovely for him? Surely, it’s all about talent and has nothing to do with people’s obsession regarding the way his face looks… which is average, in my expert opinion. What I’m curious to hear about is when you two became so close?”
He can quite literally feel his brother’s judgment, no Blood Magic bond needed. “It was in the Prophet, you prat.” Then, without missing a beat, Regulus asks, “So, if everything went alright, then what took you so long?”
To avoid (again) revealing how incredibly moronic he is to his little brother, Sirius evasively answers, “I had to take care of something. Nothing interesting or noteworthy about it, I’m afraid.”
“Yeah, sure.”
A rather impressive feat to weave that much sarcasm into a two-word sentence, Sirius thinks ruefully to himself. Now, if only that attitude was directed somewhere else…
Whelp, apparently an apology is in order. “Sorry for worrying you, Reggie, and for keeping you awake. How about I talk to Cissa first thing tomorrow about getting an extension on the date you return to lessons? Maybe only through the morning, if you’d prefer? I know you’re eager to return to academia.” There, that should cover it!
… it does not.
“I neither need, nor want, anything from you,” Regulus harrumphs.
“Jeez, fine.”
The Slytherin huffily turns onto his side, facing away from Sirius. “Thanks for helping Justin tonight.” Aw yay, there’s his sweet brother again! “Oh, and you have my condolences. I’m sure it was absolutely devastating for you to be separated from your Precious Potter for an extra thirty minutes.” And there he goes…
“I didn’t see James tonight.” An indisputable sound of disgust fills the silence, a sound Sirius instantly recognizes because it’s the exact one Mother makes whenever Father says something she doesn’t believe… which is quite often, now that he’s thinking about it. “Now, hold on a diddly dang minute! What’s that about?”
“If you weren’t with Potter, then where were you?”
I was off being a stupid, reckless git, Reggie, what else would I be doing?!
This feels awfully similar to an interrogation, and his brother isn’t even looking at him! “It’s personal, and I do not wish to discuss it. But for the record, I didn’t see anyone tonight besides Fawley… and even if I had, since when do you care so much about what I do?”
“I don’t care.” They both know that’s bollocks, but rather than call him out directly, Sirius waits until Regulus turns over again. Then, he borrows Grandmother’s, ‘If-You-Insist-On-Lying-Then-Do-It-Better’ expression, which works fantastically at getting his brother to (sort of) explain himself. “I just find it funny how you always expect me to tell you everything, yet you never give me the same courtesy. How is that fair, brother?”
There’s a lot that Sirius hasn’t told Regulus, but this random conversation spiral must be coming from somewhere. He merely needs to figure out where that is before his brother realizes just how many secrets Sirius is actually keeping from him.
“We both know you don’t tell me everything, just as I don’t tell any one person everything, James included,” Sirius loftily corrects. “So, what haven’t I told you, hmm?”
Please don’t say anything major, please, please, please.
“Who are you dating?”
Er… what?
“No one?”
Regulus rolls his eyes so hard, it had to have hurt. “Why did you leave me?”
Ouch.
“Reggie… we talked about this already, I was being stupid -”
A hand suddenly covers Sirius’s mouth, cutting him off. “I meant this morning when you flew out of the classroom in the middle of brewing like your tail was on fire, leaving me with Severus and Lily. And then you didn’t come back for forty-five bloody minutes!”
Ah, fuck fuck fuckitty fuck.
He should have prepared a lie, how could it not have occurred to him that Regulus would ask about this morning?! Usually, Sirius is good at thinking on his feet, but his brain is adamantly refusing to cooperate right now.
“I… I can’t talk about it, I’m sorry, brother. It’s between Snape and me.”
Abruptly sitting up, Regulus crosses his legs underneath him, his hands resting on his thighs. “So, now you're keeping secrets from me with my friends?!"
"I am not keeping secrets -"
"Severus is MY friend, Sirius, not yours!!" Regulus echoes, a red flush spreading across his cheeks, ew, why the fuck does he think I want to be friends with Snape?! "And need I remind you, you’ve loathed him since you stepped foot into this castle!”
Since the train ride going to Hogwarts, but who’s counting, aye?
“You wanna talk about keeping secrets with the other’s friends, huh?" He mirrors his brother's position. "Sure, Regulus, let’s talk about that.” Panic flashes in his brother’s eyes, and Sirius greedily latches onto it. “You remember James, right? My best mate since I stepped foot into this castle… no, since I bumped into him before boarding the train… what aren’t you two telling me, Reggie? Cuz I KNOW you’re hiding something!”
“You choosing Potter over me was bad enough, but now you’re choosing Severus, your arch nemesis, over me, your own brother?” If Sirius were in his Animagus form, his hackles would be rising; because while his brother succeeds in maintaining a steady tone, holds his gaze, and doesn’t actually lie… seeing as how he didn’t answer the proposed question… the muddled swirl of emotions surging down their bond is staggering. “Am I destined to always be your last choice?”
Being able to recognize the manipulation tactic for what it is doesn’t make the words hurt any less.
“And this year's Black Academy of Emotional Manipulation valedictorian is… Regulus Black!” Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. “Wow, if Mother could see her sweet baby boy right now she might finally, for the first time in his life, be proud of him!”
Obviously, Sirius’s scornful remark wouldn’t be met with niceties, that was expected.
What he didn’t expect?
SLAP!
Holding a hand to his stinging cheek, Sirius is rendered speechless by the uncustomary violence. Regulus looks equally shocked at his own daring, but then underneath that surprise… he senses his brother’s self-satisfaction, like, ‘Yeah, I showed him, didn’t I’?
Something ugly and malevolent twists in his heart, an unwelcome reminder that he'll never be able to escape what he was born as - a Black.
“Ooh, look at you, you’re really channeling Mummy tonight, aren’t you? Maybe next we can do a few rounds of the Cruciatus Curse to really help get you into character, huh? How does that sound?” Prepared this time around, Sirius seizes his brother’s wrist in a vice-like grip. “Aww, tsk tsk, sweetheart. Gotta be faster than that if you wanna hit me again.”
Regulus leans forward like he’s going to bite Sirius’s arm...
... but it’s merely a ruse to disguise his true intentions.
“OWWWW!” Sirius screeches when Regulus snakes his free hand into his hair and yanks. “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?!”
“YOU ARE MY PROBLEM, SIRIUS, YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A DIRTY ROTTEN LIAR!”
His brother lunges for him again to do Merlin-knows-what, but Sirius meets him halfway. Time becomes a blur as they slap, claw, and scream at each other. Sirius adores his baby brother and rarely seeks to hurt him purposefully, but he also will NOT tolerate this malarkey! How audacious has Regulus become to think it’s alright to pull Sirius’s beautiful hair?! This heinous type of behavior is unacceptable, he will not tolerate it!
“TELL ME THE TRUTH, SIRIUS!”
“ WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO TELL YOU, REGULUS? THAT YOU’RE CRAZY?! FINE… CONGRATS, YOU’RE FUCKING CRAZY… OW, STOP BITING ME!”
“YOU RAISED ME, ISN’T THAT WHAT YOU ALWAYS SAY?! THAT MEANS YOU MADE ME LIKE THIS!”
“YOU WERE BORN CRAZY, DON’T PUT THAT SHITE ON ME!” Sirius will not be blamed for their genetics. “BUT SINCE I DID RAISE YOU, I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT I RAISED YOU TO BE BETTER BEHAVED THAN THIS!”
“I SAW YOU!”
Not knowing what else to say, Sirius screams, “YEAH? WELL, I SAW YOU, TOO, REGULUS, YOU AREN’T SPECIAL!”
“Salazar, what the… BARTY! Barty, come help me.”
“Oi, break it up! What the ever-lasting-fuck is wrong with the two of you?!” A pair of arms wraps around Sirius’s torso… when did they end up on the floor?... and hauls him away from his brother.
Doing a quick pat down, Sirius concludes he isn’t bleeding, but his right eye is smarting, so he’ll need to use some of Narcissa’s bruise paste if he wants to avoid a shiner. The teeth marks should fade by morning, but there’s some strands of Regulus’s hair in his fist… oops, let’s just… brush that onto the floor, pretend it never happened.
Crouch frowns at him with obvious confusion. “Alright, mate? Don’t think I ever recall the two of you actually brawling… or dueling, come to think of it.”
Jerking his head in his brother’s direction, Sirius growls, “Black Family Madness strikes again.”
“MAYBE I AM MAD, BUT I SAW YOU, SIRIUS!” Regulus snarls, like his accusation suddenly makes sense… news flash, it does not! “YOU’RE A LIAR, WHICH IS WORSE THAN BEING MAD.”
It’s definitely not, but whatever floats Regulus’s boat.
“SAW ME DO WHAT, REGULUS?!”
“You really want me to spell it out for you?”
Sirius bares his teeth. “I mean… can you even spell, or does Snape help you do that, too?”
Before Evan can react, Regulus snatches his wand off the nightstand and hurls a Bat-Bogey Hex at his brother. Sirius’s wandless shield charm absorbs the spell, and he quickly retaliates with a mild stinging hex of his own. It doesn’t reach its target thanks to a hastily cast Protego, but Sirius is content he got his point across.
“We’ll be having no more of that, thank you.” Evan snaps his fingers when Regulus doesn’t move. With obvious reluctance, the younger Black places his wand into his friend’s outstretched palm.
“Now, Regulus, what did you see your brother do?” Crouch calmly asks. “In plain terms, please.”
Glaring at Sirius for nearly a minute without responding, Regulus eventually crumbles under the weight of his friends’ expectant stares. “This morning, Sirius abruptly fled the room in the middle of brewing, said he had to use the loo. It was obviously a lie. Potter followed Sirius, and I followed Potter because I was worried about my brother.” Oh... oh Merlin, no, this cannot be happening, this CANNOT be happening, so many things were discussed at that time, there's no telling which part Reg is peeved about, all of it, probably; Snape sharing his boggart with Sirius, the Blood Magic ritual, the fact Sirius talked about all of this with James, rather than Regulus himself, learning that Sirius has such an invasive tie to his emotions - “When I peeked in the room, I found Sirius and Potter snogging, and then before I could turn away, Potter confessed he was in love with him.”
They all gape at Regulus, Sirius included, because what?!
“I gave him ample opportunity this evening tell me about it, but for some bloody indiscernible reason, my brother refuses to be truthful!”
'I saw you'... not 'I HEARD you', Sirius mentally repeats to himself, sounding close to hysteria even within the confines of his own head.
“Oh, Reg,” Evan says sympathetically.
Crouch clears his throat. “Anything to say in your defense, Sirius?”
“I told them he was a slag, didn’t I?” Evan mutters under his breath. “But did they listen? No.”
Unable to hold it in any longer, Sirius bursts into guffaws, overcome with a weird mixture of incredulity, amusement, and uncontainable relief. He clutches his stomach when it starts aching from the force of his laughter, and uses his free hand to dab at his damp cheeks… not what he had in mind earlier when he said he wanted to bawl his eyes out before bed, but it’ll do. “I’m… I’m s-sorry, but Reggie, heh, really?! That’s what got you so worked up?”
Suspicious! his inner voice screams… and it’s right, but Sirius will deal with that later, when three Slytherins aren’t glaring daggers at him.
“Hold on, give me a second.” Calming breaths are easy; the hard part is not collapsing into giggles again whenever his brain becomes the tiniest bit unfocused. “Okay, I’m good, I’m good. So, first, we weren’t snogging… Regulus, if you scoff at me like that again, I’m cursing all three of you to have red hair for a month.”
Crouch shrugs. “I’d make a sexy ginger.”
“Perhaps, but would they?” Sirius waves a hand in his blood brother and surrogate brother’s direction, satisfied when the taller Slytherin grimaces. “But anyways, again, we were not snogging. James kissed me because I was uh… having a teeny bit of a meltdown. You know how my magic gets wonky when I’m super emotional and lost in my head, yeah?” Regulus reluctantly nods. “And it was bad this time, which freaked him out. But James read in some book he ‘can’t remember the name of’,” Sirius uses finger quotes here, so everyone can correctly interpret his skepticism, “that when you kiss someone, it makes them hold their breath which can stop them from panicking.”
Evan gently rubs Regulus’s back as he smothers a painful-sounding cough into the crook of his elbow. “Hold up, you're telling me James Golden-Boy Potter," he wrinkles his nose, "has read, ‘The Love of a Lycan’?”
“He denies it.” Feeling guilty for throwing his friend under the metaphorical train in front of a bunch of Slytherins… younger Slytherins, no less… Sirius half-shrugs. “Maybe it’s a popular trope in other novels?”
Regulus nods quickly. “Undoubtedly.”
Alarmed by how flushed his brother’s face is now, Sirius wandlessly floats the water pitcher on the nightstand over to him, along with an empty goblet.
“And Potter’s love confession?” Crouch probes after they watch Regulus chug two full goblets of water down in rapid succession.
“It was one of those, ‘I love you, but if you ever scare me like that again, I will kill you,’ moments, NOT, ‘I am so in love with you, let’s skip off into the sunset and be a way better power couple than Fawley and Pierre could ever hope to be’ moments.”
Two emotions flowing down their bond suddenly become recognizable - shame and guilt. They’re unfortunately ones Sirius is exceptionally familiar with on his own, separate from his brother’s side of their connection.
“Did… did Severus make some overly cruel remark that caused you to leave the room?" Regulus's eyes harden. "I know you said you wish to keep it between the two of you, but I swear, brother, I will be positively unbearable until you tell me what happened, so the wisest course of action would be to just spit it out.”
“Don’t you ever again say I’m the obnoxious one among us, Reggie. Because good Godric, next time, I’ll tell you to look in a mirror if you wanna see the true definition of the term.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “And I’m not saying anything until you swear you won’t be mad at him… he was only looking out for you.”
“Are you defending Severus?” Evan asks incredulously.
“YES!” Sirius cries, at his wits end with this ridiculous situation. It’s not like he feels good sticking up for Snape’s ethics or anything.
Regulus places a hand over his heart. “I swear on my name, I won’t be displeased with Severus based on what you tell me.”
“He…" Sirius takes a deep breath, then slowly releases it, “he told me about your boggart.”
Gotta give credit where credit is due - Regulus’s mask doesn’t move an inch. “Okay? And? You already knew -”
“Regulus.”
“What is it now?” Crouch asks when it becomes clear Regulus isn’t planning on explaining. “Has it changed since third year?”
Sirius digs his nails into the skin of his arm when he feels his lip quivering. It takes significant, soul-crushing effort, but finally, he gets the words out. “It’s me. His boggart is me.”
The silence stretches uncomfortably long, until Evan hesitantly asks, “Could Severus perhaps have lied to you, Sirius? I like the guy, but uh…”
“He doesn’t like you,” Crouch finishes unapologetically when his friend trails off.
“He didn’t lie! Reg, he’s… s-scared of me. Which I don’t blame him for, of course, given everything! I mean, I set an entire bloody classroom on fire without even noticing, who wouldn’t be frightened -”
His anxious rambling cuts off when Regulus curls forward and starts sobbing, hiding his face in his hands. Horrified, Sirius crawls across the stone floor to comfort his upset brother… only to realize once he’s right in front of Regulus that he's… he’s laughing?
“Oh Salazar!” Regulus giggles when he sits back up, fanning his face. “T-that’s the greatest thing… really… I mean… scared of you?! ” He tugs repeatedly on his best friend’s sleeve. “Evan… Evan, have you ever heard such poppycock in your whole life?”
Sirius glares warningly at the younger Slytherin, until Evan shakes his head. “I mean… uh… well… so... Severus did lie about your boggart, then?”
“I am NOT scared of my brother!” Regulus snaps so fiercely, Evan recoils backwards. “Oops, sorry, Ev, didn’t mean to be rude. In all honesty, I think maybe it was just confused, or like a newborn boggart who doesn’t know how to use its powers -"
This time, it’s Crouch who simply says, “Regulus.”
The boy in question throws his hands in the air. “Not you, too! Ugh, fine, not that it’s anyone’s business, but it was what the boggart was saying that was the relevant part. It just manifested as Sirius because…”
“I’m the coolest person you know,” Sirius supplies when his brother falters.
“Uh huh.”
A sarcastic response, sure, but not a denial! Sirius will take it.
It's probably not something he should bring up in front of Evan and Crouch, but as Reg’s best friends, they better actively strive to soothe his self-doubts, or Sirius will be finding new mates for his little brother, pronto (like that Wylan Honeywood kid who worships Regulus, he'd make the cut for sure).
“It spoke nothing but lies, you know that, right, Reg?”
“Of course,” Regulus nods, gaze focusing on Sirius’s nose, rather than his eyes.
“Look, for the most part, I don’t give a flying fuck about being a Black, as you well know by now.”
“Think everyone in this castle knows that,” Crouch snorts, leading Evan to swat his arm and tell him to hush.
“But I’m grateful to be born a Black, because it means I get to be your big brother. You are the most important person in my life, Regulus, do you understand me? I’m thankful everyday that you’re still here, that you survived those illnesses back when you were a tot. I have never thought differently in that regard, ever.”
“Stop, ugh,” Regulus groans. “We are Blacks, we do not discuss such gauche things as feelings.”
Sirius never claimed to be good at being a Black.
“Not only are you deserving of love, Reggie," Sirius gently grips his brother’s face when he tries to look away, "but you are loved, immensely, and by so many. One day… a minimum of twenty years from now, pretty please… you will find someone who looks at you like Fawley and that other bloke look at each other, I guarantee it.” Giving into temptation, he squishes his brother’s cheeks. “My brother deserves only the best, so the best he will get!”
Closing his eyes, Regulus grumbles, “I’m… I’m not allowed to cry for like another month minimum, you said it yourself, so stop.”
“I got you covered." Evan wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “What the fuck, Sirius? You can’t just spring something like that on us. We require at least two days' notice to mentally prepare for such an emotional upheaval.”
Sirius kisses his brother's forehead. “Love you, Reggie." Then, to make Evan squirm some more, hehe, he pecks his surrogate brother on the cheek. "And you -"
"Ahem."
Rolling his eyes, Sirius drops a kiss on Crouch's proffered cheek as well. "And I will tell you so everyday, for however long it takes to make it through your thick skull. Maybe by then, you lot will only need one day's notice for emotional conversations.”
“Are all Dark Wizards so damn sappy?” Couch mutters to himself. “Dad conveniently left that bit out…”
“I think it might just be a Sirius thing," Regulus says.
“I am seriously marvelous, this is true.”
Exasperated groans and grumbles fill the room, which is just rude, ugh, Slytherins. Then, with his insanely long wingspan, that bastard, why does he get to be tall, Crouch corrals them into a suffocating group hug.
“Sorry for calling you a slag,” Evan mutters minutes later when they start to separate.
Sirius ruffles the shorter teen’s hair. “You’re not, but I appreciate the sentiment, pumpkin.”
“You’re right, I despise you.”
Notes:
Some Black brothers fluff/silliness before things start to pick up!
Chapter 23: Slytherin Lore
Notes:
Happy Leap Day! We are back with Regulus's point of view for a bit, but Sirius will be returning in later chapters.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Yesterday - definitely among the Top Five Worst Days of Regulus’s life, was it not? Just one mortifying moment after another. As if consuming six brownies filled with Sirius’s modified Euphoria Elixir and enduring the subsequent consequences wasn’t bad enough (consequences that included attempting to kiss every bloke he could get his hands on and revealing several deeply personal secrets), Regulus then had to go and physically assault his sibling, all because he was too woeful to ask Sirius a simple question - “What’s going on between you and Potter?” Oh, the indignity of it all! His behavior was despicable; how Sirius could turn around and say such loving words to him after he so brazenly pulled his brother’s hair like an uncivilized barbarian, Regulus will never understand.
If Regulus thought today would be less emotionally/mentally draining than the day prior… well, let’s just say, it’s a good thing he doesn’t gamble.
Similar to the previous morning, Regulus is abruptly woken up at a horrid hour - unintentional, but still. Trapped in the thralls of a nightmare, Sirius’s keen attempt to free himself from his blanket prison fails. What he does succeed in doing? Kicking Regulus awake a mere two hours after they turned in for the night. Unsure what to do, he cautiously shakes his brother awake. A minute of tense silence follows… Regulus flinches when his brother lunges for him again, though this time, it's for a fierce, bone-crushing hug. In between bouts of gut-wrenching sobs, Sirius finally divulges why it took him so long to return after showing Justin the secret passageway - he’d gone off to find a Boggart to see if his greatest fear had changed.
“Did it?” Regulus asks after swallowing down his lecture, because honest-to-Merlin, that is one of the dumbest, most asinine things he’s ever had the misfortune of hearing! He’ll save his scolding for a more inopportune time, a time when Sirius’s eyes aren’t red rimmed and glassy, a time when the echoes of his agonized, tormented sobs have long since faded from Regulus’s ears.
“Not at first."
“Am I allowed to ask what it is?”
Lip quivering, Sirius whispers, “It’s you. It’s always been you. You were... it was a younger version of you, but you were dead... and then you sort of woke up, I suppose is the best way to explain it, except you were still actually dead, and you spoke… and you said… you said it was my fault that you died, that I should have done more to save you… and I -"
"Well, that's just ridiculous!" the Slytherin blurts. "You were what, eight, the last time I got sick? What could you have done to save me that the trained healers couldn't do?"
Rather than being offended by his tactlessness, Sirius laughs wetly. “It was the same in third year, frightened the fuck out of my yearmates.”
Regulus blinks several times, stunned by that reveal. They hadn’t been on good terms when Sirius was in third year, but his brother's boggart was still…?
“And they say I’m the morbid one.”
“Oh piss off, you are the morbid one, Reggie!” That is true, so he doesn't argue. “Then, it changed so many times, it confused itself, which is when I hightailed it out of there.” Sirius notices his brother’s curious expression. “Various people saying mean things to me and about me, nothing exciting.”
“I expected something significantly more dramatic from the King of Theatrics,” Regulus quips; a lie, because honestly, his brother’s boggart makes perfect sense to anyone who knows the real Sirius Black (not including Regulus-the-Talking-Corpse part, that's a mystery).
Sirius lets out a grievous sigh. “Just say I’m a giant disappointment and be done with it!” Pretending to faint, he drapes himself across Regulus’s lap.
"See, that’s more like it."
“Sirius lives to serve the Noble and Most Ancient House of Regulus,” his brother intones in a gravelly voice.
Joking aside, the nightmare must have affected Sirius more than he let on; it's Evan who wakes them up for class, having concluded something was amiss when he didn’t have to fight the eldest Black brother for space in the loo. They're awake earlier than Regulus would be on his own, but for his vain Gryffindor brother, it's a travesty of the highest order to have such paltry time to prepare himself to be gazed upon by the masses. Since Sirius also skipped his nightly hair and skincare routine the previous evening, he decrees he cannot be seen looking like a ‘depressed, disheveled, and unsightly troll’, so the brothers have breakfast in the far corner of the kitchens (rather, Regulus has breakfast… Sirius is too busy fretting about the ‘disparaging state’ of his complexion and bitching nonstop, ‘Reg, are you making the mirror shake on purpose, because let me tell you, I am not in the mood! You know what, you don’t need to hold it anymore, I’ll use a Hover Charm’). Fortunately for the peacock-ish Black heir, one of the younger elves takes pity on him; in a whirl of elven magic, she restores Sirius to his ‘natural’ beauty… he looks exactly the same to Regulus, but his brother feels better about himself, which is what matters.
During Potions, just as Regulus feared would happen, Slughorn orders him to ‘take it easy’... which means the entire traumatic evening with Sirius and Severus was for naught! After a teensy bit of arguing negotiating, Regulus is allowed to assist his partner, Evan, with the simpler aspects of the Wit Sharpening potion. He spends a handful of minutes during the hour-long lesson slicing, chopping, and dicing, but then Regulus essentially sits there twiddling his thumbs while his best friend does the rest of the work. Fortunately, he earns a grade for his efforts and won't have to make it up on his own at a later date, but still, the mental scarring from that tutoring session assuredly won’t fade for years to come!
After lunch, most of the fourth-year Slytherins have a free period. Surely, Regulus will get a break from the onslaught of emotional torture!... not. It was his intention to utilize the downtime to begin the homework they received in their morning lessons, but Evan and Barty have other plans, plans along the lines of betrayal, perfidy, treachery, trickery, and duplicity!
“Can we nap together during our free period?” Evan softly asks Regulus as they're walking to their dorm. “I know we talked about starting on our Potions assignment, but I’m so exhausted after last night, I don’t think I’ll survive Charms in this state.”
“C-count me in!” Barty mumbles around a yawn. “Thought I was gonna pitch forward right into my cauldron when Sluggy kept droning on and on and on about the dangers of overusing Wit-Sharpening Potions.”
Regulus Arcturus Black would never say no to a nap with his best friends. Add in the fact that it's his fault they're so tired to begin with, and he agrees without hesitation.
… he should have known right from the getgo it was a ruse, ugh. Not once in his life has Barty taken a pre-planned nap, and Evan possesses an impeccable sleep schedule - he rarely naps at all, and never during the school day!
Right as Regulus’s head is about to hit one of Evan’s fancy, imported pillows from Sweden, two separate calls of ‘Accio’ ring out. With a whoosh, the plethora of plush pillows and comfy blankets strewn across Evan’s bed zoom across the room and pile neatly onto Barty’s four-poster. Regulus briefly wonders why they're breaking tradition to nap on Barty’s bed instead, but before he can ask, his friends climb in next to him, Evan sitting crossed-legged on his left, Barty on his right.
“We just want to talk, Reg,” Evan says without looking at him. “About yesterday, mostly.”
Just talk, Regulus grumbles in his head, eh, is that all ? Funny how such a seemingly innocuous statement can instantly fill him with a suffocating sense of dread. When you’re a Black and you're cornered by someone close to you 'just to talk', they're either about to deliver bad news, reprimand you for something you may or may not have actually done, or warn you against engaging in a particular pursuit to avoid ‘shaming the family name’.
“We miss you,” Barty adds with a pout, his posture much more relaxed than Evan’s.
Guilt surges through Regulus. “I apologize, I know I haven’t been as available -”
“We aren’t upset with you, Reg, we’re pleased to see you and your brother getting on.” Winking obnoxiously at Evan, Barty slyly adds, “For some of us, there might be multiple components contributing to that happiness, of course, but the sentiment is there all the same.”
Evan’s expectant gaze never strays from Regulus, even as he gives their other roommate a one-finger-salute. “Is there anything you’d like to tell us?”
Oh, Regulus might have naively fallen into the first part of their trap, but he recognizes the lead up into an interrogation/intervention when he sees one. Thanks to watching his family’s failed attempts over the years at confronting Aunt Cassiopeia regarding her excessive drinking, the flaming critiques of various wizarding families she composes then blackmails a high-ranking editor to publish in the Daily Prophet, her penchant for taking lovers in the ‘fresh-out-of-Hogwarts’ age bracket (she's notorious for breaking off the entanglement when the wizards turn twenty-six), among many, many other qualms, Regulus knows precisely how to proceed - reveal a secret so shocking and unexpected, it distracts the interrogators from their objective.
Granted, Aunt Cassi preferred to share the secrets of others, but Regulus has one of his own that will suffice.
However, before he can divulge it, a soft knock cuts through the silence of their room. For the briefest of moments, the youngest Black thinks his brother has come to save him... again... but that belief is proven wrong when a feminine voice calls out, "It's me. Is everyone decent?"
"If you mean are we dressed, then yes, we are," Barty responds. "If you mean are we decent people, then eh, probably not."
Neither Evan nor Barty seem confused by the fact that Pandora is randomly visiting them during the middle of a school day, this is definitely an interrogation, no doubt about it. But all three boys freeze when they notice her watery, red-rimmed eyes... until a wide, devious smile stretches across her face.
"Damien Montague still falls for that?" Evan asks before she can say anything, shaking his head in dismay. "Unbelievable! After the fifth time of you bursting into tears when he caught you coming to visit us, you think he'd figure out something was amiss, huh?"
Pandora playfully ruffles Regulus's hair on her way to the lavatory. "In his defense, he did question me this time around. So, if anyone asks, I'm skipping class because I started my period today for the first time ever, and the cramps are bloody murder... heh, get it?" She giggles delightedly at her own joke... Regulus is amazed by how, without even trying, she effortlessly lifts his mood.
"We'll be sure not to ask," Barty mutters, scrunching his nose up. "For the first time ever, I actually sympathize with that oaf."
Evan and Regulus, who both grew up surrounded by girls slightly older than them, remain unaffected by the topic. In fact, if Regulus had his way, they'd keep talking about Pandora's foolproof methods for manipulating the Slytherin prefects, rather than whatever his friends clearly wish to interrogate him about.
After splashing some water onto her face, Pandora crawls into Evan's bed with them, sitting in front of Regulus. "I can't decide if your loo is nicer than ours because of -"
"My brother," Regulus interrupts, rolling his eyes. "And you're welcome to borrow him if you'd like."
"Can Evan have a turn too?" Barty jeers, waggling an eyebrow at their flushing friend. "Actually, speaking of having a turn, did you know Reg and Evan have been snogging each other ever since they got stuck under that mistletoe last year?"
"You make it sound like we do it every night!" Evan cries, looking like he's seconds away from combusting. "Which we don't, for the record."
"Ooh, lemme guess... practicing on each other, are you?"
Regulus shrugs. "Practice makes perfect."
"Maybe I want to practice, too!" Barty sticks his tongue out at Evan. "But nooo, instead I'm left alone, forgotten, unloved, uninvited, my handsome face, so smoochable, yet it continues to be unsmooched -"
Pandora, as she's one to do, quickly redirects their attention. "So incredibly sad for you, love, really, that's utterly tragic.... anywho, moving on. I believe we're here to discuss Regulus's recent exploits with a certain Gryffindor bloke?" She notices his bewildered expression. "Barty's been filling me in on all the gossip."
"Ah..." Regulus grimaces. He's sat with her for dinner last night, but they were surrounded by so many people, they didn't get much of a chance to chat. "Sorry -"
"Don't be." Her unusually firm tone has Regulus immediately shutting his mouth. "Things have been crazy for you lately, I get it. And once the Grey Lady assured me you didn't secretly hate me -"
"I could never... besides, I'm a Black, and if we hate someone, it is NOT a secret."
"Fair enough," Pandora amicably agrees. "Now, where were you all before I popped in?"
"I asked Regulus if he had anything to tell us."
Three pairs of eyes focus intently on him. "I do have something to tell you all, actually...” Regulus doesn't mean to draw his confession out for dramatics, the words are surprisingly difficult to say aloud. “It was never my desire to keep something so significant from you, I’ve just never talked about it with anyone until recently. You see, the truth is… um… the truth is, I’m… I’m gay.”
The confession hangs in the air, like a Lethifold floating ominously above its next victim, readying itself to attack. The longer the silence drags on, the worse Regulus feels - are his friends disgusted by him? Will Evan and Barty demand he leave their dorm, perhaps ask Dumbledore to place him elsewhere? And oh, oh poor Evan, he must think Regulus is a boor, a perverse swine who takes advantage of his friend’s sacred trust, twisting and poisoning their bond with lies and trickery, all for his own personal gain. Their snogging sessions were for practical purposes, not romantic, an opportunity to perfect the art before they met whichever Pureblood woman they would be expected to marry. There was no risk of feelings, nor the thought there could ever be any to begin with!
“Is… is that all?” Pandora asks hesitantly, dragging Regulus from his internal panic. “Nothing else to add on that note?”
“Are you cross with me for not telling you sooner?” His eyes dart nervously to Evan, who has yet to react. “I didn't mean to deceive any of you.”
“Deceive? Deceive?!” Barty barks out a rather Sirius-esque sounding laugh. “Well duh, Reg, of course you’re queer! It checks out, doesn’t it?” He looks to their friends for confirmation.
“It does," Evan says. "I realized it long before Hogwarts, truthfully."
"I figured it out by October of our first year," Pandora adds, squeezing Regulus’s knee supportively. "I assumed you'd tell me when you were ready, so I didn't say anything."
Barty is less kind than the others, opting to pinch Regulus's cheek with a shit-eating grin. "The end of second year for me."
“What?!” Regulus cries in alarm. “How?! I am nothing if not discreet!”
“Oh, please!" Barty scoffs. "Maybe to someone who doesn’t know you, Reg, but I like to think we're among the few who can truthfully say they know you quite well. There were several… dozen… reasons that led to such a conclusion, but the one I remember most was the way you’d scrunch your nose up in disgust whenever any bloke, myself included, talked about fancying a bird. Thought that was a tad odd, so when I started paying a bit more attention, I realized you never showed any interest in the lovely ladies in our year, including our dearest Pandora, nor did you seem to notice their obvious crushes on you -”
“Wait, wait, wait… who in our year had a crush on me?!”
"Better question is, 'who in our year hasn't had a crush on you?" Pandora proposes instead.
Evan proudly raises his hand in the air... but he's the only one. He points an accusing finger at the lone Ravenclaw among them. "You had a crush on Reg?"
She sighs in dismay. "I confess, I was a bit smitten at first. But I had my suspicions early on -" Regulus's eyes widen, and he stares pleadingly at her in hopes of telepathically communicating, 'please don't tell them about me gawking at Potter in the Great Hall during the Welcome Feast, I will literally perish on the spot'. It works, thank Merlin. "As a bit of a test, I flirted heavily with you for like a week, yet you had zero reaction. But a few days later, Justin bumped into you in the courtyard, and hearts practically fell from your eyes when he asked if you'd be trying out for the Quidditch team next year because 'you had the perfect build for a Seeker'."
To this day, that was one of the greatest compliments he's ever received, no question about it. Justin is just so cool, and for him to deem eleven-year-old Regulus worthy enough to speak to, let alone compliment? Salazar, even if he'd never been on a broom before that point, how could he have said 'sorry, no, I won't be trying out'?
But still, Regulus has a reputation to uphold. "That seems like an exaggeration -"
"Oh, it's not," Pandora counters smugly. "Right, boys?"
Evan smiles apologetically, but Barty has no qualms about betraying him. "I was legitimately worried you were going to pass out when he grabbed your hand to help you back up. Reg, you swooned."
"I did not!" None of them look convinced. "I do NOT swoon over anyone, especially Justin!"
"Whatever you say," Barty shrugs.
"I do say -"
Again, Pandora smoothly redirects their conversation. "Last year, Sofia Avery was convinced you two were going to marry right after graduation. Literally everyone knew she fancied you, even our professors! She lost probably a hundred house points throughout the year because she’d keep doodling things like S.A + R.B in the margins of her homework assignments.”
… that's news to him, what the fuck?! Regulus has known Sofia for at least ten years… she hardly ever looks his way, let alone talks to him! He prides himself on being observant, how could he have missed that?
You’re gay, stupid, Regulus scoffs to himself. You missed it because you’re one of the few blokes at Hogwarts who isn’t obsessed with the opposite sex.
“She sent you a card on Valentine’s Day,” Evan points out. “And a very large, very expensive box of chocolates from France -"
Barty glares at him. "That you rudely did not share, might I add."
“I thought she pitied me,” Regulus squeaks, embarrassed to be so naïve - he doesn't bother apologizing for not sharing his sweets though, because he is not sorry. “Like, ‘Oh, poor Regulus, can’t go to Hogsmeade because Captain Fawley is regretting his life choices and making the entire team stay behind to practice’.”
Pandora smirks. “Captain Fawley doesn’t regret those choices now, I’m sure. But in first year, I believe it was Sylvia Parkinson, Céleste Carrow, Primrose Clearwater, Hailey Yew, and Amanda Harrison who fancied you.”
Sweet Merlin, what the fuck?
“Don’t get me started on the years below us!” Barty groans. “I am 99.99% positive that you have a legitimate fan club that started here in Slytherin but now has members from all four houses, including your mate, Honeywood. He’s probably well on his way to becoming President, if he isn’t already.”
“That’s an exaggeration, I’m sure,” he mutters self-consciously; Potter and Sirius are the sort of blokes who have fan clubs dedicated to them, not Regulus.
“It’s really not, but I digress. In comparison to all of that, whenever someone mentioned Legrand’s obvious crush on Justin, or brought up the lead singer of that gloomy Death band you’re obsessed with -”
“They’re called DiE,” Regulus immediately corrects his ignorant friend. “Dancing in Elysium, how many times must I tell you this! And they aren’t gloomy, you just lack appreciation for their confessional, poetic lyrics that focus on the struggles of the human condition, like pain, love, insecurity, self-loathing, betrayal -”
“... and how he was dating that ridiculously attractive dragon-tamer-turned-model bloke, your reaction was more… wistful?” Oh Merlin, they made a rather fetching couple, hadn’t they? Regulus was beyond devastated when they broke up (but the new album DiE released following the end of his relationship? Now, that was to die for). “Oh, and I caught you staring at McKinnon’s arse a few times.”
Regulus covers his face with his hands. “It’s literally perfect, how could I not?”
“It really is," Pandora says... hard to tell if she's humoring him or actually agrees with his assessment... heh. "But to clarify, we aren’t offended that you haven’t told us outright before now, we understand your position within your family."
“Besides, I’m sure you’ve already worked it out for yourself, but I am also gay.”
“Ah, yes…” Regulus is grateful his expression is hidden. “I knew that.”
(Regulus did not, in fact, know that… though he supposes it makes sense considering how unfazed Evan was about snogging him for practice. Would a straight guy be so calm about that? He had no idea!)
"What we wish to inquire about,” Evan says, his tone borderline accusatory, “is what’s going on with you and Potter?”
“I know I was rather out of it yesterday,” that's putting it lightly, “but I do remember my brother explaining it to you.”
“And we don’t believe him!” Catching sight of Regulus’s offended expression, Evan winces. “Sorry, I mean, I’m sure Sirius believes he’s speaking the truth. But I saw Potter’s face, Reg… there’s more going on, isn’t there?”
Part of Regulus’s brain screams at him to deny such an accusation - if it's never discussed, then he can continue pretending like there's nothing going on, and if he continues pretending like there's nothing going on, then he never has to figure out what is going on. But he holds too much respect for his friends to outright lie to them like that.
A few white lies? Those never hurt anyone.
“We’ve snogged a few times in addition to the instance Sirius was referring to," Regulus divulges. "But we’re just having fun, there’s nothing ‘going on’. I’m confident my parents will hear nothing about it, because quite frankly, there’s nothing to hear.”
His childhood best friend throws his hands in the air. “You can’t honestly believe anything good will come from this, Reg! We’re talking about James Potter, Quidditch Star, school ‘heartthrob’, Gryffindor’s Golden Boy, prankster extraordinaire… he’s probably in the throes of some sexuality crisis -”
“What Evan means to say,” Pandora interrupts, glaring at the boy in question, “is we’re not bringing this up because we’re worried about how your parents or brother will feel if they found out. We're worried -"
“Though, we shouldn’t ignore that either!” Evan interjects. “Potter is Sirius’s best friend, not some random jock… your parents despise him on that alone.” (Again, Regulus is an awful brother - their parents don't despise his best friend, something he secretly takes great pride in... ugh, okay they aren't overly fond of Barty due to who his father is - the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and a man who indiscriminately despises any magic that's considered 'dark' - but in the eyes of Orion and Walburga Black, Barty definitely ranks much higher than James Potter.)
“We’re concerned about you, mate," Barty continues. "It’s okay to have fun, but this entire situation… well, it’s kind of reckless, isn’t it? And that isn’t like you at all.”
Pandora scoots closer to him until their knees touch. “Reg, we don’t want you to get hurt."
"Or do something you’ll end up regretting in the long run," Evan finishes.
A rush of gratitude flows through him at the genuine concern and affection reflected back in his friends' expressions. Why is he always so closed off with everyone? They won't judge him, and even if they do… which Regulus wouldn’t blame them for, not when he's crushing on James fucking Potter, his brother’s moronic best mate… they won't hold it against him. That's the important part.
When Regulus is done telling them everything that happened with Potter over the last week or so, he drops his forehead onto Pandora’s shoulder and lets out the sort of childish whine he’d be mortified if anyone else heard. “It’s stupid, I know it’s so bloody stupid… but I like James Potter, an embarrassing, stupid amount, no less.”
“He’d be a bigger idiot than I originally believed him to be, if he didn’t like you too!” Evan huffs.
Barty excitedly tugs on the sleeve of Pandora's robe. "Oh, Pandora, sweet Merlin, you should have seen the tizzy Potter worked himself into when he found out Evan and Reg are snogging buddies! For a minute, I thought he was going to burst from the jealousy! If we ever get ahold of a Pensieve, I promise I'll show you."
"Kept accusing us of 'fooling around' too. Like just because we sometimes snog, that automatically means we're doing more?" Evan rolls his eyes. "Idiot."
Reminded by what else Potter said, Regulus frowns. "I'm really sorry, Ev. The uh... all the other stuff was so uncalled for -"
"Reg, you know I don't actually have a crush on your brother, right?" The other three share a quick glance. Barty mouths 'denial'... Evan then proceeds to punch him in the arm. "I don't! Ugh, okay, think of it like this - would you date Justin if he showed interest in you?"
"He would never show interest in me."
"But if he did?"
"But he wouldn't -"
"Hypothetically, what if he did?"
"It's impossible to imagine, because he wouldn't -"
"Regulus!"
His eye twitches.
"No, I wouldn't."
"And why not?"
"Justin is..." Regulus sighs dreamily. "He's so awesome, ya know? Even as his friend, I sometimes don't know how to behave around him! If he ever showed romantic interest in me, I'd probably die on the spot."
"Precisely my point."
The youngest Black scrunches his nose up. "I don't understand."
"I don't understand how you don't understand."
"Sirius is to Evan, what Justin is to you," Pandora calmly translates for him. "Probably even more so, considering you three grew up together."
"That still doesn't make sense!" Regulus argues, crossing his arms over his chest. "Justin is literally the coolest person on this planet."
Barty chuckles. "Justin Fawley has his charms, sure, but I think 99% of the people in this castle, including the faculty, would agree with Evan."
"Because they don't know my brother!"
"I know your brother very well, actually!" Evan argues. "And he's incredibly cool, you're just biased."
"Sirius is a giant dork who cries when the bloke he fancies doesn't pay enough attention to him!" Regulus loves his brother, he does, but Sirius is not cool... at least not in the way people think he's cool.
"Aw, that's actually kind of cute," Barty mutters under his breath.
Clapping her hands together, Pandora (again) leads them back on topic. "Circling back to Potter... I suppose it's a good sign that he's jealous of someone else snogging you. But if he's mean to Evan -"
"Potter can be snide and dislike me all he wants," Evan shrugs. "Trust me when I say, I do not care. But I swear, Reg, I will set my sisters, your cousins, the twins, and your Grandmother on him if he’s ever the slightest bit mean to you, you have my word.”
“Here’s to hoping we never have to go that route," Barty shudders. "Reg's Grandmother scares the willies out of me, and I've never even met the woman!"
The one person who has met Grandmother Melania, Evan, says, "You have good instincts."
"Forgive me, love, but perhaps you should talk to Potter about all of this?" Pandora suggests. "You know, to see what page he’s on? Or if you’re even reading the same novel?”
“I… I will take it under advisement, but the reality of the matter is,” Regulus pauses, trying to find the right words, “Sirius would go ballistic if he found out the full truth, and he’s already suspicious Potter and I are hiding something from him.” There’s no telling what sort of tomfoolery his brother cooked up in that strange head of his; for Regulus's peace of mind, he wishes to never learn the answer. “I need to… I must immediately put an end to this situation with Potter, before I ruin everything I have built back up with my brother in recent weeks. Don’t ever tell him I said this, but Sirius is quite important to me.”
"Whoa," Pandora gasps. "I had no idea!"
"Your sarcasm is not appreciated, ma'am," Regulus sniffs.
And just like that, several tears slip down her cheeks. "A-are you... are you mad at me, Regulus?"
Oh, he knows what she's doing, can see it in the sparkle in her eyes. But it still makes him squirm uncomfortably. "No, ugh, stop messing with me! I've had a... a month."
Benevolently, he holds back his complaints when she squishes his cheeks together. "I'm sorry, little prince, you're just so fun to mess with sometimes."
"Said with love, but... I hate you."
Barty and Evan don’t tease Regulus… in part because Evan suddenly notices the time. They hurriedly get ready to depart for their Charms lesson, while Pandora is due to be in Transfiguration soon. But before they leave the dorm, Evan stops short and whirls around to face Regulus, his expression earnest.
“I… I believe Potter genuinely has feelings for you. And from what I saw while we were growing up, your brother will do whatever it takes to ensure your happiness. Yes, he was a git for a few years, but if Potter is the person you wished to be with, then Sirius would work hard to accept that fact… so long as you two were honest and upfront with him about it. I don’t need to remind you what he’s like when he discovers someone lied to him, do I?”
There’s no telling which specific situation Evan is referring to - Blacks aren’t known for being honest and forthcoming, even with each other. He might be recalling the time five-year-old Sirius learned the Department of Mysteries was not working on a special cure for Regulus’s frequent illnesses as he’d been led to believe… his ‘accidental' magic flared up in a storm of malevolence, ruining the backyard party at Aunt Lucretia’s country house, and tearing up her garden so extensively, it took months for the house elves to put it right. The adults couldn’t get within ten feet of him; Sirius’s magic swirled around him, creating an impenetrable shield their stunning spells couldn’t break through. He screamed and screamed, shouting things like he’d never trust any of them again, how dare they tell him such blatant lies, he’d neither forgive nor forget their betrayal, I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU! The pandemonium eventually ended when Regulus crawled across the lawn, debris flying overhead but never striking him, and slipped underneath his brother’s magical barrier, only to burst into tears at Sirius’s feet - he wasn’t frightened of his brother, but rather, the repercussions he’d incur for causing such a scene in front of their relatives and party guests (Sirius got off shockingly easy, in part because Grandfather ruled their parents were wrong to misguide him over such an emotionally-charged topic, and all the adults, including Aunt Lucretia, were begrudgingly impressed by the nearly effortless display of power).
Or maybe Evan was thinking of the time when ten-year-old Sirius realized Father had lied about the Quidditch World Cup being canceled ‘due to political turmoil’. Rather than risk his son(s) throwing a temper tantrum upon being told they wouldn’t be going (their parents had previously agreed they could attend the ‘match of the century’ if they behaved all summer - which they had), he fabricated an entire cover story, going out of his way to hide his deceit. After casting a complex glamor charm on the Daily Prophet to corroborate his lies, Father then threatened/bribed/blackmailed various family members and close friends to uphold his tale. The truth was revealed by Evan of all people, a potential source of information Father had somehow overlooked. Needless to say, the ensuing firestorm was… intense was a good word for it, along with nightmarish, merciless, and spiteful (this time, it was Grandmother who ruled her ‘witless, senseless, lousy excuse for a son’ deserved the destruction her blameless grandson wrought ten times over - she decreed from that moment henceforth, her grandsons would attend every World Cup match if they so desired, and she’d personally accompany them in Uncle Alphard/Uncle Gio couldn’t chaperone).
After mulling over his friends’ advice during Charms, Regulus reaches the same conclusion - this clandestine mess with Potter must come to a swift end. Surely, a model-Gryffindor like James Potter would understand where he's coming from… assuming Regulus has the guts to explain it to him (spoiler: he does not). Self-awareness is Regulus’s forte, however; to prevent any uncomfortable situations from arising, he simply needs to avoid Potter entirely, preferably until the older boy’s graduation. Shouldn’t be too hard, right?
Sadly, Potter has other ideas.
Regulus, having fallen a few paces behind his friends, is currently engrossed in a book, trying to recall his answers to the pop quiz that Professor Flitwick gave them during their last lesson. Did he write distance did matter, or did not when it came to Summoning Charms? What about with Banishing Charms, or did he mix those two up? Regulus surely mentioned anti-theft charms when discussing how to protect oneself against accidental summoning… oh bloody hell, that was a trick question, wasn’t it? Summoning charms don't work on people, he fucking knows that from personal experience! When their tutors taught them that spell a few summers ago, Sirius tried repeatedly to summon Regulus directly to him; when that was unsuccessful, he settled for casting the spell on Regulus’s chair instead… which had been so obnoxiously annoying, he must have blocked it from his memory until now.
So focused on his task, Regulus has only the vaguest awareness of his surroundings, stupid stupid stupid, will you ever fucking learn?! Which means, it comes as a huge surprise when a hand locks around his upper arm and yanks him off his feet. With another hand clamped over his mouth, Regulus can’t generate enough noise to alert his friends to his predicament before he’s roughly dragged behind a tapestry (one he doesn't even recall noticing up until this moment).
“It’s me, it’s me, it’s me!” Potter chants after releasing him, a wary eye trained on the wand pointed directly between his eyes. He holds his hands out placatingly, like Regulus is some frightened, cornered animal he’s trying not to spook. “No curses, please, I come in peace!”
Evidently, being accosted in the hallway after Charms class is now part of Regulus's weekly routine… funny how he doesn’t remember starting said routine. At least in this instance, Potter won't be mauling or disfiguring him in any way.
To put some distance between them, Regulus places his back against the wall of the passageway, begrudgingly returning his wand to its holster. But when he realizes he must have dropped his book on the other side of the tapestry, his frustration doubles - James Potter will be buying him a new textbook if something happens to his current one, Regulus doesn't care if the Blacks are richer than the Potters!
And just what exactly does he think he’s playing at, snatching Regulus right off his feet like that?!
“Potter, if you think I’m some sort of…” he hisses, struggling to find the right words, “tart or rent boy who will be at your beck and call whenever you fancy a snog, you are SORELY mistaken!”
“What?!” Potter shrieks, eyes comically wide behind his glasses. “I didn’t… no, Regulus, no! That’s not what I… that’s not why I… ugh, stop laughing at me, you’re so bloody mean!”
“Ah, but you like it when I’m mean, don’t you?” the Slytherin teases, slipping so easily into their usual banter.
At first, Regulus had been legitimately offended, but Potter’s reaction was too genuine to be faked. Obviously, his assumption regarding the Gryffindor’s intentions must be incorrect… 'twas rare for Regulus to be wrong, but he is only human, after all.
Potter rolls his eyes. “That is not my point.”
That's not a denial, though... huh, interesting.
“What actually is your point?”
“You’re avoiding me, and I don’t like it!” Potter accuses, sounding like a whiny child. It’s a miracle he hasn’t stamped his feet yet. “Since the middle of the morning yesterday. Except now, you’re not avoiding Sirius anymore, so I want to know why you’re peeved with me and only me.” He doesn’t give Regulus a chance to respond. “Is it because of the stuff with Rosier? I’ll apologize to him if that’s what it takes for you to forgive me.”
Recalling the cruel words hurled at his best friend, Regulus's eyes narrow. “Potter, you were so far out of line regarding what you said to Evan, I cannot even begin to quantify it. Nor can I believe I’m about to say something so cliché, but you should apologize to him regardless of how it’ll make me feel.”
While Evan might not care if Potter is mean to him, Regulus cares very much.
“I know,” Potter mutters, shoulders slumping. “I was being stupid, and jealous, and a giant git, and that wasn’t fair to your friend… or you.”
Hmm, probably wasn’t all that fair for Regulus to avoid his brother and Potter in the first place because he was devastated to find them snogging each other, but uh… he’ll keep that information to himself for now.
While deciding how best to respond, Regulus turns his gaze to the right; I wonder where this passageway leads... would Potter tell me if I asked? And on that note, how exactly did he and Sirius discover all these secret tunnels and passageways around Hogwarts to begin with? Did they just skulk around the castle after curfew, poking and prodding at every brick, painting, statue, and tapestry along the way?...
... bet that’s exactly what they did, Regulus internally snorts to himself. Crazy bastards.
Blazing torches line the walls, but they’re few and far between, making it difficult to see farther down the tunnel. Regulus tenses when a pair of glowing eyes appear amongst the shadows, but thanks to his proficient squinting skills (perfected from years of reading novels in low lighting when he’s supposed to be asleep), he concludes the menacing shape is not a monster - it’s a round, four-legged cat.
"Regulus?"
It doesn’t come any closer, so Regulus returns his attention to Potter.
“I suppose apologizing to Evan is a good way to begin earning my forgiveness.”
No! his inner voice screams. There will be no forgiveness, this gives you the perfect excuse! Tell him no amount of apologizing will ever make up for his despicable behavior, it’s over, goodbye!
“Oh, yeah?” Potter’s lips lift up to form his usual, annoyingly cocky grin. “What else can I do, hmm? Maybe drop to my knees -”
“POTTER!”
“I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT!” A dark flush blooms across every inch of visible tanned skin. “I meant grovel, I swear, I’m so sorry, I promise I’m not always so embarrassing. I’m cool, I… it’s all your fault!”
“Oh, is that so?” Regulus crosses his arms over his chest. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but if you have to say you’re cool, then that typically means you are not.”
Potter’s hands wave wildly in the air while he talks. “Being near you makes my brain go all fuzzy! Thus, me being all awkward and… and blundering… it’s your fault, see!”
“Could you perhaps be allergic to my cologne?” Regulus asks with a curious frown, certainly not a concerned one - he won’t be changing scents regardless of the answer!
Another reason you should stay away from each other! his inner voice cries triumphantly.
“I… I can’t tell if you’re joking… oh my, you’re serious, aren’t you? -”
“No, you idiot,” he growls, struggling to avoid doing something embarrassing of his own, like smiling fondly, or worse, laughing at his own joke. “I’m Regulus.”
“Wow, that’s so cute, how are you… oi, wait a bloody minute! You told me that joke was old!”
Distracted by a commotion on the other side of the tapestry, Regulus flinches when he hears his brother amongst the cacophonous, overlapping voices.
Tell Potter to bugger off, coward!
“Fuck, I need to go.”
Forever!
The Chaser suddenly turns shy. “Can I, maybe, if you don’t… ah, actually, nevermind. I’ll see you tonight, right?”
Detention, ugh.
“I suppose you will.” Against his better judgment, Regulus crosses the short distance and presses a delicate kiss to Potter’s cheek. “Wait a few minutes to follow me, yeah?”
Potter’s expression turns stormy. “Perhaps I wasn't clear before, so let me reiterate... I am not ashamed to be seen with you, Regulus!”
This time, Regulus doesn’t try to hide his fondness, couldn't even if he wanted to. “In this current climate, it would be unwise for Sirius or my friends to find us stumbling out of a secret passageway together.”
“What does that -”
Cutting the reasonable question off with a proper kiss, Regulus whispers, “Trust me, yeah?” against Potter’s unfairly plump lips.
"O-okay."
After taking a moment to straighten his robes and smooth down his hair, Regulus slips out of the tapestry without a backwards glance. Unfortunately, his reemergence into the hallway doesn’t go unnoticed - Evan, Barty, and Sirius are huddled together halfway down the corridor.
They spot him immediately.
“And just what do you think you’re doing, Regulus Arcturus?!” Sirius screeches, grabbing him by the shoulders and lightly shaking him. “You scared the daylights out of your friends, who then scared the daylights out of me!”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten anyone,” Regulus murmurs, taking his dropped textbook from Evan with a grateful smile - one less thing to worry about. “I… I thought I saw Nigel, and you know how that goes.” Also truthful! There’s no other cat at Hogwarts who’s that rotund, and Evan/Barty know precisely ‘how that goes’.
His friends roll their eyes, but they are kind enough to explain the significance of such a sighting to Sirius. Belonging to Willow Greengrass, a Slytherin girl in the year below theirs, Nigel is a white Ragdoll cat who went from a tiny, fits-in-the-palm-of-your-hand kitten, to a twenty pound beast, you-better-use-two-hands-to-carry, within a year. Infamous for ‘escaping’ the moment he arrived at Hogwarts, it somehow became a thing amongst Slytherins that spotting the sneaky creature around the castle was considered an omen of good fortune. And if the pernicious feline allowed someone other than Willow to pet him (without mauling them in the process)? That was equivalent to a dose of Felix Felicis, the liquid luck potion.
“Hold up, I remember Greengrass’s cat,” Sirius says dubiously. “It was all black and named Calliope.”
Also true; Regulus explains the second part of the Nigel lore - he’s not missing, avoiding his owner, or anything of the sort.
Before Willow boarded the train to Platform 9 ¾ at the end of her first year, Slughorn comforted his ‘distraught’ pupil, saying Nigel was likely ‘living a fantastic life somewhere in the castle, not to worry dear, the elves will take good care of him, wherever he might be.’ The following school year, Willow returned with Winston, an orange and white Maine Coon. Low and behold, Winston then followed in Nigel’s footsteps, and spotting him throughout the castle also became an omen of good luck (though technically, Winston was more likely to be found out on the grounds chasing the wildlife). Despite what other houses would like to claim, Slytherins are a loyal bunch - no one said a word when Nigel and Winston slipped off the train this year, while little Calliope was carried in her owner’s basket.
“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” his brother snickers, pinching his cheek. Of course, he is jealous! How could he not be? She has three cats to his zero. “An absolutely ingenious idea, genuinely can’t wait to see how long she manages to get away with it.” Naturally, right as Regulus thinks his white lie passed Sirius’s detection... “Well, fortunately for Ms. Greengrass, this passageway is caved in, so we can scoop Nigel up right quick, and then get on with our evening.”
Protesting too much would be suspicious, but Regulus tries, he really does. Regardless, Sirius immediately dismisses his counterarguments that Nigel will return to Willow when he wants to, likely later this evening, as he sleeps in her dorm every night; his brother also ignores how nowhere in the lore does it say they need to pick up said cat... which is probably actually bad luck, something Regulus does not wish to collect anymore of, thanks!
Evan clears his throat. “Yes, pardon, what I would like to understand is how you expect to walk straight through a solid wall?”
“Uhh…” Sirius tilts his head to the side, eyes shifting back and forth between the tapestry and the two confused Slytherins. “Oh! Bloody hell, that’s right.” Without explanation, he grabs each of their hands and jerks his head towards the wall. “Can you see it now? Forgot it’s caked with Notice-Me-Not Charms, probably as ancient as Dumbledore himself… or our great castle, hard to say which is older. But once you see it the first time, you should be able to keep seeing it, so long as no one puts anymore charms on it.”
How could Sirius and Potter find it to begin with if it’s covered in Notice-Me-Not Charms? he ponders to himself. The overwhelming need to know burns Regulus from within, leading him to blurt his question out, interrupting Barty mid-sentence.
“I’m nosy, duh.” Sirius then grumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, ‘It’s like you don’t know me at all, I swear’. “I walked by, sensed the magical aura, couldn’t see anything, and then just stared and stared at it, until voila, there’s a tapestry.”
From anyone else, Regulus would call ‘bollocks’ on such a statement, but dear Merlin, if anyone could pull off something bizarre like that, it would be his headstrong, willful, stubborn big brother… who’s also magically powerful/talented, blah blah blah, isn’t he just so wonderful?
Evan and Barty return to the Great Hall, playing the, ‘We’ll ensure your cousins don’t freak out when you don’t show up to dinner’ card, meaning it's left to the Black brothers to ‘rescue’ Nigel from the passageway that leads nowhere. Holding his illuminated wand aloft, Sirius traipses down the passageway in a zigzag-like pattern; Regulus opts to remain a few paces behind, lest he accidentally get in his brother’s way. Periodically, Sirius will glance over his shoulder, his expression daring Regulus to comment on his ridiculous behavior. The younger remains silent for two reasons; one, he doesn’t want to hear Sirius’s obvious skepticism regarding his excuse, and two, the longer they remain in the tunnel, the shoddier Regulus feels… some of that may be attributed to his steadily increasing anxiety over how Sirius will react when they inevitably run into Potter. But not all of it.
A cold sense of dread slowly creeps up his spine, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Regulus pretends to stumble as an excuse to light his own wand, leading Sirius to stop to check that he’s alright. To his secret relief, when they start walking again, his brother tosses an arm around his shoulders (the physical contact is comforting, sure, but it also means Sirius is now less likely to bump into the other person in this tunnel with them… who knew James Potter was so good at Disillusionment Charms?!). Between their lit wands and the blazing torches every handful of feet, there’s plenty of light to see what’s up ahead and also behind them; nothing seems amiss, just an endless tunnel leading to Merlin-knows-where.
Yet Regulus can’t shake the feeling that something is off.
If only that blasted cat would reveal itself! A part of him wonders if Sirius will really insist on trekking down the entirety of the passageway until they reach the end, but who is Regulus kidding? Of course, he will!
Sirius doesn’t share Regulus's unease. Chattering nonstop since they stepped into the tunnel, the older boy is also unfazed by the lack of response to his commentary. (‘You should have seen how grimy this tunnel was when I first discovered it, Reggie, it was like no one had been in here since Hogwarts was founded!’ ‘It’s irresponsible of cat owners to let their pets roam free without a tracking charm, don’t you agree?’ ‘We should go exploring one night, Reg, I’m sure there’s a lot of things I haven’t found yet, and there’s so many cool places I can show you.’)
Regulus would respond if he could, he finds it exceptionally rude not to, but with every step, his chest becomes tighter and tighter, like there’s a heavy weight pressing down on him. He drags his feet, maybe subconsciously, some sort of innate survival instinct that should have appeared before he got himself into this mess, if it wanted to be of any use. More than anything, Regulus wishes he was in the Great Hall with his friends, mentally agonizing over something inconsequential, like their approaching detention; he adamantly does not want to be moving closer to whatever horror they're approaching.
Oh why did he have to lie?! And why can’t he just spit out the truth now? Sure, Sirius would be displeased, but at least they’d be safe, safe from whatever wretched fate awaits them down here.
Abruptly, Regulus registers a voice that isn’t his brother’s. Multiple voices actually, whispering indecipherably, the noise growing steadily in volume as they move deeper into the passageway. He glances over at Sirius, unsurprised to find his brother yapping away, oblivious as ever.
Soon, the message becomes intelligible. The whispers are warnings, urging them to turn back, return to the main part of the castle, do not wake, you must NOT wake -
“My little star, what’s wrong?” The Slytherin startles when a hand gently caresses his cheek. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute, but you just stopped walking and completely… blanked.”
“We shouldn't b-be here, brother." A bead of sweat trickles down the back of Regulus's neck. "It’ll… it might hear us.”
“Who? Nigel? Serves the bugger right if he gets a bit of a fright -”
Shaking his head, Regulus grips tightly to his brother’s forearms and croaks, “No, not Nigel, something… something worse, something we don’t want to wake. We need to go back, Sirius, please!”
“I’ve been down here a few times, Reg.” Entwining their fingers together, Sirius gently squeezes Regulus’s hand. “It’s basically one really long hallway leading to a giant immoveable pile of rocks.” His lips drop into a pout. “Horribly disappointing really. It causes me great turmoil to not know what’s on the other side.”
Frustration overrides Regulus’s fear.
How can Sirius with his, ‘I haven’t even taken my O.W.L.s yet, but I can sense magical auras on objects regardless of how much time has passed since the spell was cast,’ not feel the overwhelming, nearly crippling sense of foreboding that increases with every bloody step they take!?
“‘Her Greatness will always help those in need, you need only to ask’,” the Slytherin parrots mockingly. “That’s what you said, wasn’t it, brother?”
“Well, yes, but -”
Regulus smacks his brother’s palm flat against the stone wall. “We seek answers, so… ask!”
Hogwarts responds immediately, oh Merlin, Sirius was right about Hogwarts being sentient, what the fuck, what the fuck, WHAT THE FUCK, which Regulus knows because images flash through his mind’s eye before he can even think of dropping his hand back down.
A man that can only be Salazar Slytherin stands before a towering statue of himself. At his feet is a wicker basket; when he opens the lid, a small snake slithers out. Its eyes are closed, but through thick, clear eyelids, the yellow glow of its dangerous gaze is visible.
‘My sweet girl,’ Slytherin coos to the baby basilisk, stroking the top of her head with two fingers. Each word has an elongated syllable, like that of a snake’s hiss - Hogwarts must be translating the Parseltongue for them. ‘Several celebrated Seers have warned that someday, a terrible war may arrive at the gates of Hogwarts. You are small now, my dear, but you will grow to become the strongest and most powerful of serpents, a mighty force to be reckoned with. Can I count on you to protect all of the students and staff in my stead, to fight back against those who seek to harm the innocents within these walls?’
‘Yes, Master.’ She wraps her body around his forearm like a piece of scaly armor. ‘I will protect the offspring and their caregivers. And I will killllllll anyone or anything that opposes me!’
Slytherin smiles fondly. ‘Naturally, it is my hope that war stays far away from here. But nevertheless, I will prepare my descendants for the possibility. They will guide you if the time comes.’
The scene changes.
A tall, black-haired boy leans against a pillar in the same chamber, gazing hungrily up at the statue of Salazar Slytherin. Green and silver lines his robes, his gleaming Prefects badge visible even from a distance. When he speaks Parseltongue, his words sound harsher than Slytherin's, commanding, rather than conversational.
‘Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.’
The mouth of the statue opens impossibly wide, and slowly, agonizingly so, the basilisk slithers out. Slytherin hadn’t been exaggerating when he said she would grow to be a force to be reckoned with… she certainly won't be fitting into any wicker baskets now.
‘Who calls on me?’ the basilisk hisses, sounding angry. ‘You are not my Master!’
After a moment of hesitation, the boy pompously declares, ‘I am Lord Voldemort. I am the last descendant of the renowned Salazar Slytherin.’
The snake sniffs the air, peering curiously around the green-hued chamber. ‘Has war come?’
The Prefect sneers. ‘It has. We have been overrun by Mudblood scum. You must purge the school of their filth at once.’ He gestures to a tunnel on the left side of the Chamber. ‘I have found a hidden passageway that will lead you directly into a corridor on the fourth floor -’
Without warning, the room starts shaking, huge chunks of debris raining down. The main chamber is unaffected, but where an open tunnel once stood, it's now completely barred by broken rock. The furious Heir of Slytherin aims his wand at the caved-in passageway, but before he can utter a spell, the room trembles again, a handful of pebbles falling from the ceiling.
The message is clear - attempt to excavate that tunnel, and the entire Chamber will collapse instead.
‘That meddling old coot!’ the boy growls to himself. Louder, he says, ‘No matter, you can use the pipes. They’re certainly big enough for you to move around in, plus no one will see you coming.’ He pauses, likely waiting to see if the pipes will cave in ('It's impossible to do so without risking the structural integrity of other parts of the castle', Hogwarts whispers regretfully in response to the question Regulus asks in his mind). ‘Come, let’s get to work.’
When the images come to a stop, Regulus and Sirius gape at each other, unsure what to make of everything they just saw.
“That bloke -”
“Slytherin,” Regulus interjects.
Sirius rolls his eyes. “No, I meant the younger one. That was the creepy, blood-purity fanatic bloke Bella was in love with, wasn’t it?”
Ah, that’s right! Regulus thought his name sounded familiar. “Believe so. Not sure what happened to him, though. He kind of fell off the face of the planet, didn't he?”
“Uh... yeah, heh.” Sirius drops his gaze to brush invisible dust off his robe. “What a mystery! Anywho, we clearly need to -”
“Find a way into the Chamber,” Regulus interrupts again, the beginnings of a plan coming together in his mind. "Let's get moving, brother, we're on a time crunch."
A hand locks around his wrist. “Pardon, but I think I misheard you. Obviously, you meant, ‘Find a way to get as far away from what is clearly the Chamber of fucking Secrets as fast as physically possible’ -”
“We can’t just leave that poor basilisk to fend for herself!” Regulus shrieks, growing progressively angrier the more he thinks about the snake’s plight. “Centuries she’s been down here, Sirius! Alone, starving, her only company being a raving lunatic a few decades ago. And you want to pretend like everything is fine?!”
“Yes!” Sirius cries, throwing his hands in the air. “I do want to pretend like everything is fine, because it is, and I don’t have a bloody death wish, unlike you apparently -”
“Coward.”
“Pardon?”
Stepping into his brother’s personal space, Regulus meets his gaze dead on. “You, Sirius Orion Black, are a coward.”
“You’re not going to goad me into doing something suicidal -”
“Fine, if you won’t help me, I’ll ask Potter.”
“Ha!” Sirius wags a finger in Regulus’s face. “Shows how much you know. James is nowhere near as reckless as I am.”
“Did I say he was? As your education is evidently lacking, let me break it down... ‘courageous’ and ‘reckless’ are two VERY different attributes -"
“Aww, Reggie," his brother interrupts, raising a condescending eyebrow, "do Mother and Father know about how highly you think of James Potter?”
Two words - fuck no.
“Besides,” Regulus continues after deciding his brother’s question is rhetorical, and thus, doesn’t require a response, “he’s pretty much a badger in lion’s clothing. I’m sure he cares deeply about the well-being of all living creatures, especially one abandoned by its owner and then misled into assisting some nutter’s crusade. Unlike you, brother dearest, James Potter possesses both the daring and determination to fix the wrongs of the world. A man of honor, if you will, something you clearly know nothing about.”
A muscle in Sirius’s jaw ticks; he’s either on the verge of caving in or kicking Regulus’s arse into next week.
Or possibly both.
“Does that make you a badger in snake’s clothing, little brother?” Sirius spits.
“Given what we just learned, I’d rather be in Hufflepuff, truthfully. Even if that means sharing a Common Room with that cur, Smith.”
At least the other Founders, to his knowledge, didn’t put any living creatures in some dark, dank, and dreary secret underground chamber that hardly anyone knew existed, leaving them for CENTURIES with no food, water, company, or way to exercise… oh, the list of blunders could go on and on! Slytherin’s intention was good - ensure Hogwarts was protected, even long after he was gone - but the execution? Left a lot to be desired, didn’t it?
Regulus always felt a rush of pride at being able to say he was a Slytherin, undoubtedly a result of his upbringing. Only now, he’s going to have to reassess his values... again!
“Shhhh!! Are you crazy?! Don’t say such things, Reggie, especially down here!” Strong arms wrap tightly around Regulus’s shoulders. He lets out an oof when his face is unceremoniously squished into Sirius’s chest, the embrace borderline suffocating. “It’s probably sacrilegious or something, and you have bad enough luck as it is. I don’t want to see you smited.”
They both jump ten feet in the air when a loud ‘mrow?’ comes from behind them.
Regulus giggles at the sheer absurdity of it all. “Told you Nigel was in here.” He wonders how Potter managed to stay hidden - he must be further down the tunnel.
“Mrow! ”
“Lemme guess… that’s Winston with him, hm?”
“Meww.”
“And Calliope,” Regulus adds without looking.
“So, it’s true what they say then.” Glancing up at his brother in confusion, Regulus can tell by Sirius’s smirk that something inane is going to come out of his mouth. He’s proven right when his brother says, “Dark creatures attract other dark creatures.”
Notes:
Next chapter will be detention, so with all four boys together (the Black brothers, James, and Remus), it's bound to be *dramatic*.
(And yes, the part about Aunt Cassiopeia's love life is indeed inspired by a certain celebrity ;) )
Chapter 24: A Detention to Remember
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
An hour later, Regulus makes his way down to the Potions classroom with a fretful Sirius at his side. Of course, to outsiders, Sirius Black is cool, calm, and collected, his gray eyes ‘alight with mischief’... but to Regulus, who knows his brother's mannerisms better than anyone else does, James fucking Potter included, Sirius is well on his way to a nervous breakdown.
“It’s like you’ve never served detention before,” Regulus huffs when Sirius tosses an arm around his shoulders, again, before deciding he doesn't find that comfortable and looping their arms together… again. “Oh wait, that’s me! But don’t worry, brother dearest, I’ll protect you from the big bad wolf.”
Sirius jumps, embarrassed to be caught out, no doubt, and whips his head around to look at the younger boy next to him. "I don't like that expression." And I wonder why that might be... "Those pigs were sketchy as hell, I'm sure they did something first that made the wolf behave in such a way."
"Victim blaming again, are we? How gauche!" The Slytherin hisses through his teeth when, in lieu of a verbal response, Sirius sharply pinches his arm instead. "What a ridiculous overreaction to my JOKE, Sirius... and you know how much I hate being pinched in that specific spot!" Which is exactly why he did it, no doubt.
This is what happens when you allow people to know your weaknesses! his inner voice is quick to point out.
"Don't whine, Reggie, it's unbecoming of a Black. Besides, you were being mean, so you deserved it."
"I was NOT being mean, though I definitely can be, if you'd like to see the difference!"
Like the snob he swears he isn't, Sirius flips his hair over his shoulder, 'accidentally' hitting Regulus with it in the process. "Oopsie, sorry 'bout that." Yeah, you and your stupid hair are going to be sorry if you keep it up! "I swear, it's like my hair has a mind of its own sometimes." Uh huh. "But anywho, maybe you should think twice before responding to my intellectual analyses of children's stories with snarky remarks, hmm?"
Deciding to try something new, Sirius drops his arm down, then entwines their fingers together... which would have been fine, if he didn't insist on swinging their linked hands back and forth.
"Well, maybe you should think about getting your shite together, Siri, and quickly." The Slytherin yanks his hand back. "Otherwise, this is going to be a miserable two weeks!"
Even more so than I'm already anticipating.
Sirius sighs. “I know, little star, I'm sorry." At least he's kind enough to rub Regulus's smarting skin, probably because he knows his brother is too prideful to do it himself. "Don't know what's wrong with me."
“Too much to list in such little time,” he playfully jibes, which earns him a faux-offended squawk and then a chuckle.
This time, when Sirius drapes his arm around Regulus's shoulders, it stays.
“Cheeky brat.”
“You love me,” the Slytherin taunts before he can think better of it.
In an uncharacteristically solemn tone, all traces of amusement gone, Sirius says, "I do. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it, Regulus, if that’s what it takes for you to believe me.”
A lumps forms in his throat at the reminder of his brother’s words last night. All Regulus can do is nod, too terrified to open his mouth, lest something embarrassing comes out.
On the way back through the tunnel, Sirius and Regulus spent a majority of the trek arguing about how to proceed. Eventually, they came to an agreement - for the time being, they'll keep the discovery of the passageway leading to the Chamber of fucking Secrets to themselves. Following the completion of tonight's short-term-imprisonment detention, Regulus will write to Newt Scamander and request a meeting during the next Hogsmeade weekend. He begrudgingly promised to let Sirius help him compose the missive; the goal is to make it enticing enough for the magizoologist to agree to meet, yet vague enough where they don't reveal any important info, in case it 'falls into the wrong hands' (naturally, Sirius refused to explain what he was so concerned about). Regulus despises waiting that long to help the poor basilisk, but as his brother callously put it - she’s been trapped down there for centuries, what’s another few weeks if it means she’s going to have the best magizoologist in the world helping her? With that being said, Regulus is well aware he'll spend every moment until the meeting cycling through a myriad of emotions, anywhere from crushing guilt for failing to help her right away, excitement over getting to see the Newt Scamander in person for a second time, and existential dread because he’s going to have to talk to the Newt Scamanader face-to-face, which means he won't be able to spend hours... or days... reflecting on his responses.
Ah, of course, that’s assuming Mr. Scamander Newt, he said to address him by his first name, so it would be impolite to call him anything else... right?... oh Merlin, have mercy, I hope he declines, I am so not worthy, agrees to meet little 'ole Regulus Black.
Sigh, he’s getting ahead of himself. Again.
In a rare showing of good fortune, they bumped into Willow Greengrass on their way to the Great Hall, meaning Sirius got to play the knight in shining armor without parading her three cats in front of the majority of the school. Unfortunately, however, Regulus’s appetite was ruined after witnessing a gaggle of third-year girls gush over how wonderful his brother is, ‘You are such a lifesaver, Sirius Black, I could never thank you enough!’, ‘You Gryffindors really are the heroic types, huh?’, and ‘I guess chivalry isn’t dead after all!’ Sirius ate their praise right up, 'You can count on me, loves, Sirius Black would never say no to helping a beautiful lady... or three... in need', which became slightly more understandable when Lupin shuffled past them to enter the Great Hall, a flustered, distracted Potter at his side. To Regulus’s relief, his brother followed him without comment to the kitchens, where they had a quiet dinner tucked away in the corner of the room, both lost in their own thoughts.
When they turn the corner, they nearly run smack into Potter, who's standing right fucking there, waiting for them. "And as your bestest best mate in the whole wide world -"
"Fucking hell, James, what the actual fuck -"
"I will join you in that quest!”
"Don't do that to a bloke!... wait, what quest?" Regulus does NOT appreciate his brother's look of suspicion. "You planned a quest with James and volunteered me to go along too?"
"Would you prefer we left you behind?"
Sirius frowns. "Well... I suppose not... but I'd still like to know -"
"The lifelong quest of proving how much I love the Brother's Black, of course!" Slithering an arm around Regulus's middle, Potter boldly... or stupidly, depending on one’s perception... plants a kiss on the top of his hair. “I absolutely adore them, you see.”
Leaning against the wall next to the Potions classroom, Lupin's eyes are downcast, but Regulus would bet his custom-made Blackstar broom that the taller Gryffindor is listening intently to their conversation.
“Is that so, James Potter?” his brother snootily asks. "You love both of us, huh?"
With an impossibly wide grin, Potter tugs the youngest Black closer to him... Regulus does not lean into the embrace, that would be abhorrent. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, mate, I love you ever-so-slightly more.”
“EVER-SO-SLIGHTLY?!" Sirius sputters. "What do you mean, ever-so-slightly?! After everything we’ve been through, you better love me in-incla-incalca-”
“Incalculably,” Regulus supplies, mostly in a bid to reduce his own secondhand embarrassment. Once again, the question must be asked - how does anyone think his brother is cool?!
“Yes, that!” Sirius wrenches Regulus towards him so roughly, the Slytherin nearly loses his footing.
In a daring double move, Potter ignores his temperamental best friend and yanks Regulus back to his side.
"Stop this foolishness at once, both of you! I just ate dinner, you're making me nauseous!"
His pleas for mercy go ignored, stupid, oafish, single-minded, self-centered, arsehole Gryffindors, hatehateHATE!
“I’m positively thrilled we are joining Baby Black in his first ever detention! And for two whole weeks… we’re gonna have a fabulous time.” Potter sighs wistfully. “Aww, mate, do you remember your first multiple-detention offense?”
“Two weeks with Filch for breaking Hillhawk’s face,” Sirius brags with a dark gleam in his eye.
“Assuredly, he deserved worse.”
It’s not a question - something tells Regulus that Hillhawk’s punishment did not fit his crime.
“You bet he did! Ever since I arrived at Hogwarts, literally starting on September 2nd, he'd make comments constantly about how Gryffindor was no place for 'inbred, Dark Wizard purist scum' such as myself, and that my 'kind' should remain permanently isolated in the dungeons, so we couldn’t contaminate the other students with our diseases and deformities… which doesn’t make sense, deformities aren’t transmissible!”
Potter nods. “An idiot, clearly.”
"Takes one to know one," Regulus childishly mutters under his breath, smirking when Potter sticks his tongue out at him.
“When THAT didn’t get the reaction he so desired," Sirius continues, glaring at the pair for interrupting his story, "he loudly asked me in front of a bunch of older Gryffindors, Frank Longbottom among them -"
Oof… it’s shocking that Hillhawk continues to walk the earth after saying anything negative about Sirius in front of his idol, even if it was something trite (yet true) like, 'You're a posh prat'.
“And I quote, ‘According to Black Bylaws, would your betrothed consider it an act of infidelity if you shagged your other cousins, or do you get a free pass to stick your prick in anyone you want, so long as they share the same surname? Actually, given your huge, fucked-up family tree, relations don’t stay just between cousins, do they? I bet you’re constantly fighting off would-be suitors at family functions!'"
"He said that to you?!" Potter gasps, unconsciously tensing the arm wrapped around the younger boy beside him.
"Ow," Regulus deadpans.
Loosening his grip, the Chaser gently pats his waist in apology. "Oh, jeez, that's my bad."
To Regulus's horror, the unexpected contact draws a soft yelp out of him. Instinctively, he squirms away from the bad touch, shifting closer to his brother.
Potter's shit-eating grin does not bode well for him, not one bit... "Are you ticklish, Baby Black?!"
... why must I suffer this way?!
"No!"
"Oh, I think you're fibbing," he coos. "That's so cute -"
"EXCUSE YOU BOTH, but since I am SPEAKING, you are meant to be LISTENING, except to PROPERLY listen, you should NOT be speaking... SO PUT A FUCKING CORK IN IT!"
"Sorry," Regulus mutters, hanging his head. "... Potter started it."
"Indeed I did," the Chaser agrees. "Sorry, Siri. Please continue with your tale, we've got our listening ears on."
"You better." Sirius scowls at them for another few seconds, but eventually continues. "It gets worse. actually. I was about to walk away, cuz I knew you'd all fuss at me afterwards if I didn't, but there was no way I could when he decided to conclude with, 'Let's not forget about that little brother you’re constantly yapping about… saving him for yourself, are you?’"
Regulus's mouth drops open. "No! Tell me he didn't."
"I wish I could, Reggie, I wish I could. Mind you, I was twelve at this point, and you weren't even at Hogwarts yet!”
Forget Frank Longbottom! It's unfathomable that Hillhawk continues to walk the earth after saying such vile remarks to Sirius, period.
Oh, but Regulus will be correcting such an oversight posthaste.
Lupin’s head jerks up, his expression aghast. “That’s what he said to you, Sirius?!”
“Not that I care what you think," Sirius snarls with cheeks so red, Regulus swears he can feel the heat emanating off of them, "but if you don’t believe me, you can ask McKinnon! He was there.”
“We believe you,” Potter hastily interjects, and Lupin nods vigorously. “It’s just... we never knew what exactly set you off, you never said any of that.”
Sirius juts his chin out. “I remember vividly - you never asked what he said, you all just assumed it was the usual tripe!”
“You’re right. We assumed, which was wrong of us, but -” Potter runs his free hand through his hair, messing it up even more than usual. Burdened with the urge to fix it, Regulus stuffs his hands into his pockets instead. “Merlin’s beard, Sirius! If you had just told us what he said, we would have… I dunno, done something about it, something more than just a broken cheekbone. I mean that’s… that’s just horrid!”
“Maybe he didn’t want to talk about it, Potter, did you ever think of that?” Regulus snaps in defense of his brother - had someone said anything of the sort to him, he sure as shit wouldn’t tell his friends. It’s like reliving the humiliation all over again! “Don’t worry, Sirius. I’ll handle it.”
“Not without me!”
“Yeah, how about no... you had your chance, Potter, it's my turn."
James Potter, Gryffindor's Golden Boy, help him, Regulus Black, plot a murder? As if!
"Siri, I wanna help!" the Chaser whines. "Pretty please, make Reg say yes!"
Before Sirius can inform his daft friend that Regulus is a strong, independent wizard, who doesn't need a man to help him do anything, let alone something so simple, the door to the Potions classroom swings open.
“Alright, enter, enter!” Slughorn’s voice booms from within.
Lupin slinks in like a dog with its tail between its legs, but Sirius and Potter are engaged in a fierce staredown. Against his will, Regulus remains trapped between them. Since neither Gryffindor will allow the other to win, the end result has them standing entwined together in front of the Potion Master’s desk, Sirius's arm around his shoulders, Potter's around his waist - Regulus refuses to meet the eyes of a visibly amused Slughorn.
“Right, so Mr. Black…”
Slughorn sighs, not noticing his mistake until both brothers chime in with a smug, “Yes, Professor?”
“Sirius, you are to work with Mr. Lupin on -”
“No!” Sirius cries, and Regulus almost facepalms… Merlin, does he have any tact?
“What my brother means to say, Professor Slughorn, is that -”
The Potions Master lets out a hearty laugh. “Oh my word! Let me save you the trouble of preparing what I’m sure would be a well-reasoned argument, Regulus. It is a personal rule of mine that siblings are not to serve detention together, and it’s an official rule, that Mr. Black, ah, that is Sirius Black, and Mr. Potter are not to serve detention together at all costs. That puts me in a bit of a bind, you see.”
Fuck, of course that would be an official rule, he loathes how very unshocked he is by this news. It’s not that Regulus is opposed to working with Potter, per se, he just knows the partnership is going to be nothing but drama.
He is so bloody tired of drama.
“Well,” Potter bristles, “that’s highly discriminatory, that is!”
Sirius clears his throat. “You are aware, sir, that Regulus is currently recovering from a grisly injury, seeing as how it was you who informed him he was excused from classes for three days. What you might not know, however, is that the injury in question was caused by a person in this very room. I'm sure we can all agree that being in such close proximity to this individual is a traumatic reminder of the abominable attack he endured, so as Regulus's older brother, I humbly ask -”
Keeping a straight face while listening to such malarkey is difficult, especially after Regulus catches sight of Lupin’s appalled expression… Sirius sure knows how to lay it on thick!
“The four of you will remain in this classroom, Sirius, so not once will Regulus be out of your sight!” Slughorn interrupts, his tone uncharacteristically firm. "Additionally, since they are partnering up for this detention, I’m sure your close friend, Mr. Potter, will be delighted to keep an extra eye on your brother for you.” When Sirius glances away, the Potions Master winks at Regulus, apparently under the impression he’s doing his Slytherin student a favor - he is not.
The rebuttal only makes Sirius angrier.
Regulus hastily steps on his brother's foot, lowering his voice to hiss, “Leave it, you’ll be fine!”
“Yeah, mate, I'll keep an eye on him,” Potter promises, smiling charmingly at Sirius, whose doubtful expression doesn’t fade. He places his free hand over his heart. “Marauder's honor.”
“Splendid!” Slughorn claps his hands together. “Now, for your assignments.”
“This is pure torture,” Regulus grumbles, glaring at the stupid Sopophorous bean he’s trying - and failing - to cut. At least Potter’s not having much success either. Three of his beans have flown across the classroom, unnoticed by Professor Slughorn, who’s grading essays at his desk.
Irritably flicking his hair out of his face, Regulus adjusts his grip on the knife in preparation of stabbing the blasted thing when his brother’s voice barks out, “Regulus Arcturus Black!”
The tone induces some sort of younger-sibling instinct within; immediately, Regulus places the knife onto the table, moves his hands to his lap, corrects his slumping posture, then stares straight ahead, awaiting further instruction.
Looming over their workstation, Sirius eyes their failed efforts with an inscrutable expression. Despite spending fifteen minutes scrubbing cauldrons left over from Slughorn’s first-years, he still looks pristine; a quick glance to the other side of the room reveals Lupin is not faring as well as his detention partner, not by a long shot.
“First and foremost,” his brother drawls. “We need to take care of this hair situation before you accidentally stab someone.”
“May I do it on purpose, then?” the Slytherin quips, eliciting an outraged squawk from Potter. “Preferably to myself.”
Sirius clicks his tongue. “Request denied.” He’ll never admit it, but Regulus does feel some of his frustration lessen now that his hair is tied up, pins holding some of his more stubborn curls in place. “Next, your sleeves. You can either take your robe off, or I’ll roll them up properly for you.”
“That’s a good idea, mate.” Shucking his robe off, Potter starts rolling up the sleeves of his long-sleeved button down shirt. "Both those options sound fantastic."
With herculean effort, Regulus tears his gaze away from the mouth-watering display of forearm muscles. “Robe on,” he gulps, mentally groaning when he sees Sirius staring at him with a raised eyebrow. In a bid to distract him, he waves his billowing sleeve in his brother's face.
The obnoxious action manages to capture Slughorn’s attention too, oops. “Sirius, those cauldrons won’t scrub themselves,” the Potions Master lightly admonishes.
As usual in the face of authority, Sirius Black doesn’t falter. “They’re soaking, Professor. Besides, it’s come to my attention that a quick review of basic lab safety and technique is in order. But don’t you fret, sir, I’ve taken it upon myself to demonstrate to my peers precisely what they are doing wrong. I’ll be back to scraping newt eyes off cauldron bottoms before you know it.”
Slughorn sighs but returns to his marking. “See that you are, please.”
After fetching something from the storage closet, Sirius then remorselessly uses his pointy elbows to make space for his stool in-between Regulus's and Potter's. “Right. So, I forget what these thingies are called -”
“Smushed ladle,” Regulus says, because that’s exactly what it looks like; someone took a soup ladle and flattened out the round part until it resembled a saucer dish.
“Works for me. To start, you’re gonna attach the beaker to the side of the table like so.” He utilizes the services of a contraption that Regulus is bewildered to realize is on every workstation in the classroom - how has he never noticed that?! “You then want to make sure the smushed-ladle handle is angled into the beaker… the length can be adjusted, but I think this one will do just fine. Now watch closely, this is the important bit.” Potter leans forward, watching with rapt attention, but years of experience has Regulus staying put, on the offchance something unfortunate happens. “Place the Sopophorous bean on the dish, then use the flat edge of your knife to press down like so -”
Regulus gasps, both in outrage and awe, as a ridiculous amount of juice flows into the beaker.
“Voila!”
“An excellent showing, young man!" They all jump when Slughorn appears in front of their station, never having heard him move from his desk. "I don’t typically award points during a detention, but since Minerva claims you didn’t actually do anything this time around, I think I can make an exception. Ten points to Gryffindor for that impressive display of N.E.W.T. level skills.”
“Thank you, thank you,” Sirius beams, though Regulus doesn’t miss the way his eyes drift to the back of the classroom, where Lupin is scrubbing a cauldron with such vigor, it’s a miracle that it’s still in one piece.
“Learned that from your Grandmother, did you?” Slughorn asks jovially. “Melania Macmillan, now that was a lovely woman if there ever was one!” Regulus bites the inside of his cheeks to prevent himself from saying something snide like, ‘Well, actually, it’s Melania Black these days.’ “An exceedingly bright witch, and a dab hand at potions... I dare say she could rival myself!”
“Nah,” Sirius interrupts Slughorn lauding compliments on Grandmother. “Well, actually, I’d say half and half. Grandmother showed me the juice collecting method.” He gestures at the smushed-ladle and the beaker attached to the side of their table. “But Snape showed me the knife trick with the beans. Grandmother always let me squish them by hand, which was super fun, but not as efficient.” He misinterprets their stunned silence. “I wore gloves! I’m not daft.”
Out of habit, Regulus mutters, “Are you sure?” under his breath.
“Thanks for the tips, mate! It's gonna save us loads of time.” Clapping Sirius on the shoulder with a wide grin, Potter is alone in his enthusiasm. “But we best get on with it, don’t want to be here all night, ya know.”
Petty as ever, Sirius mutters, “Is that so?” under his breath. Nonetheless, he returns to his cauldrons.
“Hey,” Potter hums five minutes later, breaking their companionable silence. “Random question, but what are your thoughts on the Chamber of Secrets?”
Ah-ha!
Potter was still hidden somewhere in the passageway. Of course, Regulus had assumed that was the case, but it's nice to have it confirmed... Merlin, if he didn’t think the Black brothers were completely barmy before, he definitely does now.
“I don’t believe it exists,” Regulus lies without looking up from his work.
“Aw, come on!" the Gryffindor whines. "I’m not entirely sure what happened down there, but I heard you both.”
Dammit all!
“We can talk about it at a more inopportune time.” There, compromise.
“I would help, Reg,” Potter declares with such conviction, it makes the younger teen finally glance up. Hazel eyes blaze with determination, leaving Regulus flabbergasted to realize that his (horribly embarrassing) pro-Potter speech, the one he said merely to piss his brother off, was actually spot on - Potter would help him, likely with anything he asked.
Blimey, what a schmuck.
"Oh... um, that's nice."
“Granted, I dunno how I could help you with a basilisk -”
“Shhh, keep your voice down!” the Slytherin hisses, shooting a paranoid glance behind him; thankfully, Sirius is calmly rinsing a cauldron off, rather than glaring suspiciously at them. His brother’s ‘finished’ pile is laughably large in comparison to his fellow Gryffindor's, in part because Sirius is efficient, but also because Lupin wastes a lot of time gazing longingly at his ex-best mate. “It took me forever to get my brother to believe I disappeared to follow Willow’s cat. If you start talking about,” Regulus lowers his voice even more, “the Chamber of Secrets and basilisks and what not, he’s going to know you were there!”
“I won’t say anything," Potter says, crossing his heart. "... I’ll just add it to the pile of things I’m not telling him.”
Vehemently refusing to entertain that melodrama, Regulus instead asks, “How did you manage to stay undetected? Since he’s so familiar with them, my brother can sense our magical signatures from kilometers away. You couldn’t have been under a Disillusionment Charm.” In all likelihood, he’s drastically overselling Sirius’s abilities... and by 'drastically overselling' he means 'making it up'... but maybe it will persuade Potter to cough up the truth.
It does not.
In fact, Regulus should have kept his mouth shut and minded his own business, like he’s always telling Sirius and Potter to do.
Besides being aesthetically pleasing to look at, the nice part about working with James Potter is that he’ll do the parts of their task that Regulus doesn’t want to deal with, like getting up to remove the filled beaker, and then reattaching an empty one.
But before sitting back down, the Gryffindor takes a moment to stretch out his back, a motion that simultaneously puts his bulging biceps and a hint of sculpted abs on display. Unable to look away in time, Potter catches Regulus staring… oh, that narcissistic bastard knew exactly what he was doing! With a flirtatious wink and an expression that screams, ‘I won't ask, because it’s obvious you like what you see,’ Potter leans in so closely, his breath tickles Regulus’s ear, and then whispers in a voice that has no fucking right to sound so good, “You can’t expect a bloke to reveal all his secrets, love. Bit of mystery keeps everything fun, yeah?”
Regulus could have survived that… probably. Maybe? Fifty/fifty odds.
But, Potter goes for the guaranteed kill, pressing a chaste, yet lingering kiss along his jawline.
Distracted, flustered, and slightly turned-on, Regulus presses his knife down on the Sopophorous bean... and accidentally slices his left palm open in the process. He doesn’t notice the cut at first - it’s the sight of his blood on the blade that causes him to freeze. Everything fades into the background as the words of his boggart rush to the forefront of his mind.
A Black struggling at potions… unheard of!
“Oh shite, hey, take my handkerchief.” Something soft is placed in his hand. “I’m so sorry, Regulus… here, I'll just put some pressure on it, yeah?”
Nice bloke like Potter, can’t help but pity someone as pathetic as you.
“Would you like me to escort you up to the Hospital Wing? It doesn’t look too bad, but Pomfrey can get it sorted in a jiffy.”
How are you so bloody incompetent?
“James Potter, you had ONE fucking job!”
Worthless.
“Oi, it was an accident -”
Useless.
“‘I’ll keep an eye on him’, isn’t that what you said?! Marauder’s honor? How’s that going, mate?”
Deficient.
“Well, yes, okay, I did say that... but it doesn't change the fact that this was an accident!”
Unlovable.
"It was an accident to trust you with my brother!"
Who could ever love you?
"You're being really unfair, mate."
Should have died as a child.
Spared us the agony of knowing someone so wholly unlovable.
Should have died as a child.
There’s a touch on his shoulder, followed by a less familiar voice asking, “Regulus, are you alright?”
Should be dead.
His surroundings sharpen until they return to perfect clarity, a much more jarring experience than the reverse; the abrupt return to reality, combined with his aching wound, leads Regulus to flinch, something Sirius wholly takes the wrong way.
“You have no fucking right to put your hands on my brother, not after what you did to him!” When Lupin doesn't move quickly enough, hard to do considering he was given 0.3 seconds to react, Sirius shoves his hand off Regulus's shoulder, then drags the younger towards the cauldron-free sink farthest away from his Gryffindor mates. “Did any of the juice get into the cut?”
“It burns,” Regulus admits through clenched teeth. “So, I’d wager so.”
He can’t recall anything about Sopophorous beans, including what potions they’re used in.
“Fuck fuck fuck... okay, it's okay, I got this.” The dried blood is washed away, revealing a comically tiny, angry-red scratch that's no longer bleeding. “Close your eyes, Reg, I’ll fix it right up. Just need to clean the juice out first."
The strange request spikes his anxiety. "How... how do you do that?"
"Magic, duh." The pompous response has Regulus grumbling indecipherably under his breath. "I promise it doesn't hurt, Reg."
Well, suppose that's something.
Eyes starting to water from the pain, Regulus does as he’s told. He hears the sound of his brother rifling through a cabinet above their heads. Then, there's a soft swish, followed by Sirius's sharp intake of breath. Something is dribbled onto his wound, thicker than water. Gently, Sirius rubs it in, and the burning alleviates immediately. When the urge to peek becomes too strong to resist, Regulus cracks an eye open; it's all for naught though, seeing as how their hands are obscured by the stream flowing from the sink, Sirius washing away whatever potion or cream he used to clean the juice out. Perhaps it's Regulus's imagination, but for a brief moment, the water looked like it had a reddish tint to it, ooh, I bet he used one of those grisly looking potions we've seen in Grandfather's lab at Black Manor, the stomach churning ones that are eerily reminiscent of blood and/or liquefied body parts.
Regulus is exceptionally glad he didn't peek a second earlier, blegh, talk about nightmare inducing.
“Better?” With Regulus’s confirmation and whispered thanks, a smidgen of Sirius’s (visible) worry lessens. “Drinking the juice from Sopophorous beans can remove memory, so there’s no telling what it would do in the bloodstream. We'll do a quick memory test, okay?"
He proceeds to fire off questions at random; What are the names of Willow Greengrass’s cats? What color are they? Who won the most recent Quidditch World Cup? Who won the Quidditch Cup last year at Hogwarts? What’s the full name of Grandmother’s house elf? Who does Matthias work for? What’s the name of the head house elf at Hogwarts? How many properties does our family have? (which became a memory exercise for both of them).
“Please don’t make a big deal out of this,” Regulus murmurs when the test is over. He knows his brother well enough to read between the lines of his aloof expression; Sirius is seething underneath. “Please, brother, if you’re going to be mad at anyone, be mad at me, because it was entirely my fault. I was careless, and distracted… you know how much brain power I have to devote to social situations so I don’t muck them up, which this totally counts as, for the record. As such, I wasn’t paying all that much attention to what I was doing.” He shrugs. “Plus, I suck at Potions.”
Sirius brushes his thumb over the cut, healing Regulus’s wound like it never happened.
What a show-off, the Slytherin can’t help but think to himself (fondly, of course).
His brother is silent for so long, Regulus loses nearly every shred of hope that this incident can be resolved peacefully... until Sirius sighs so softly, it’s barely perceivable. “I would like to reiterate that I said you could not stab yourself, Reggie.”
“Everything alright, gentleman?” Slughorn asks, sneaking up on them for a second time that night. “Mr. Potter cleaned up your workstation, but let’s have a look at that cut, shall we? Might need to pop into the Hospital Wing, or perhaps visit your dear cousin, Narcissa before the end of the night. The juice from Sopophorous beans is a tricky, tricky substance.” He blinks at Regulus’s uninjured hands, turning them over several times before looking towards the front of the classroom, where the vase beside the door still contains four wands.
Regulus struggles to repress a smirk at how ruffled their Professor looks, no doubt trying to decide if this was a prank, or if he’s missing something obvious. “Our cousins are exceptionally talented, but when it comes to wandless magic, if age is taken into consideration, my brother surpasses all three.”
"Oooh, I will pay you to say that at the next family dinner! Just name your price, Reg, and it's yours."
"Fat chance!" the youngest Black scoffs, no amount of galleons would be worth the drama such a comment would induce. "In spite of what you seem to think, I do not have a death wish."
Sirius rolls his eyes. "Puh-lease, they'd come after me, not the precious baby."
"I am not -"
"You are."
Slughorn clears his throat. “When I took your wands at the beginning of the evening,” Regulus tenses as his brother’s expression turns thunderous, “it was my assumption that you would understand this detention was to be served without -”
“I did NOT use magic to clean those cauldrons," Sirius snaps without waiting for him to finish. "I did all of it the Muggle way!”
“My dear boy,” their Professor backtracks, holding his hands up placatingly. “There’s no need to take such offense, I believe you, I swear I do. What I cannot believe, however, is how Minerva has lauded your talents from the moment you arrived at Hogwarts, yet somehow drastically undersold your abilities!”
And that’s why Horace Slughorn is the Head of Slytherin.
Like a dog that thinks he's about to receive a bone, Sirius's entire demeanor brightens. "Really? Minnie says nice things about me?"
"Oh, the nicest! She's very proud... of course, that's setting aside your mischief and misbehavior."
"Well, I'm awesome, so that's not overly surprising, I guess.” To anyone who doesn’t know him, Sirius projects an air of nonchalance, with a dash of arrogance. But to those that do? He’s genuinely surprised, pleased, and thirsty to hear praise from his favorite professor… albeit secondhand. "But I still feel like you're having me on."
"I'm not having you on, Sirius," the older man chuckles. "Though, I must admit, we were all a little discombobulated seeing a Black sorted into Gryffindor, but by the end of your first year, Minerva was as smug as could be about it! We teachers can be a bit competitive about our students, you see.”
“Sorry,” Regulus mutters self-consciously.
“What’s there to be sorry about?” Slughorn sounds legitimately confused… is he really going to make Regulus spell it out for him? There's not much to boast about when you compare him with his brother. “I’ve got the best Seeker that Hogwarts has seen in a century! Nothing puts a damper on Minerva’s boasting like a lost Quidditch game.”
Sirius slings an arm across Regulus’s shoulder. “My brother could go pro after Hogwarts, don’t you think, Professor?”
It becomes another poignant reminder of how charming and charismatic Sirius can be when he puts his mind to it.
A whopping twenty minutes goes by of him and Slughorn hamming it up, though Regulus zones out for most of it. His Slytherin senses point out that Slughorn is well aware of what Sirius is doing, but he’s laying a trap of his own, hidden amongst the praise and anecdotes of, ‘You’ll never guess who I had tea with this summer!’ Why wait for Regulus to convince Sirius to attend a meeting of the SlugClub if he can be lured into accepting right then and there, with nothing more than a few promises of introductions to Quidditch elites? Gryffindor ideals have filled the Black heir’s head with nonsense. They both know Regulus won't play professionally, their family would never allow it. But that won’t stop Sirius from dreaming big.
It’s Potter of all people who ruins the gambit, daring to interrupt the two-man powwow to ask if he should continue juicing the beans.
“Right! Yes, of course… Sirius, back to your cauldrons -”
“I’m done, sir,” he says, his smug smirk directed at Potter, who scowls back before catching himself. “I’ll go ahead and help -”
“Mr. Lupin out!” Slughorn interjects in his usual jolly tone. “So very kind of you, Sirius. Best get to it, or we’ll be here all night.”
Ah, but Sirius Black is not so easily deterred. “Actually, I was going to assist my brother, given his most recent accident -”
“No, no, it’s best if you demonstrate your marvelous and efficient cleaning methods to Mr. Lupin, I’d say.”
“How's he gonna learn to NOT wallop other people’s little brother’s if he receives assistance on his character building task?!” Sirius hotly demands, before adding a belated, “sir.”
They argue back and forth, until Slughorn, at his wit’s end, shouts, “Either assist Mr. Lupin, or organize the storage closet, Mr. Black, those are your two options!”
“Perhaps -”
“Or a third option... leave detention early! But I must warn you, if you choose that route, I’ll tell Minerva that she should go ahead and write those letters home.”
Slughorn is the only one who looks confused when half of the objects in the room start rattling.
Regulus angles his body in between the verbally dueling pair, ensuring he’s the only thing in Sirius’s direct line of sight. “It’s just another hour or so, Siri. We'll both be fine, yeah? And you love organizing Grandmother’s lab at Black Manor by yourself, it’ll be just like that.”
“Not the same, Reg, not at all,” his brother snarls, right before Potter hip-checks the youngest Black out of the way.
Placing both hands on Sirius’s shoulders, he lightly rests their foreheads together. “Look, mate, I know things have been difficult for you lately with, er… everything that’s been going on.”
“Very difficult,” Sirius agrees automatically.
“Plus, I’m sure the hoard of bad memories,” Potter continues, straightening up, “that Regulus’s recent injuries dredged up, hasn’t helped either.”
Burden.
Sirius’s eyes take on a faraway look.
“And I’m sorry I broke my promise about keeping an eye on him.”
Nuisance.
With obvious reluctance, Sirius concedes, “Accidents happen. Suppose I was a bit harsh with you, mate. M'sorry.”
"Nah, you weren't." James Potter’s attempt at defusing his best mate’s rage might have been successful, if he hadn't proceeded to put his foot in his mouth… rather jammed it in there, actually. “I'll do better, Siri, you'll see! Your darling, beautiful brother will be in good hands, I solemnly swear it.”
Unsurprisingly, the last person to realize what he said is James Potter himself. Meanwhile, the longer the silence drags on, the stormier Sirius’s expression becomes.
“Uh, well, what I meant was -”
Lupin cautiously drifts to the edges of their group.
“What, James?” Sirius asks in a sickeningly sweet voice. “You didn’t mean to say my brother was beautiful?”
Potter, stupidly, looks relieved. “Yeah, exactly! I meant to say, ‘your darling, baby brother’... very easy to mix up, see?"
An eyebrow quirks up, a silent warning.
“So, you don’t think my brother is beautiful, is that it? You think Regulus is ugly?”
The two Slytherins are riveted by the exchange, though neither are foolish enough to interrupt. Lupin, however, is clearly a boring tosspot - he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else.
“Er... that’s not what I said!” Potter complains, flustered. “Now you’re putting words in my mouth!”
“Oh, is that what I’m doing, James? Putting words you didn’t say into your mouth?”
Potter throws his hands in the air. “Yes, Sirius, that’s exactly what you’re doing!”
“Do you, or do you not, think my brother is beautiful?” Sirius growls. “It’s a simple question, really, I’m not sure why you’re being so difficult about answering it!”
“I’m being the difficult one?” the Chaser shrieks, quite similarly to Walburga Black… Regulus wonders if he picked that up from his brother over the years, or if that's his natural cadence in situations like these. “That’s funny, coming from you of all people. Sirius Black knows ALL about being difficult, doesn't he?!”
His brother doesn't rise to such pathetic bait, obviously.
“Why don’t you just answer the question, huh?!”
“Sirius -” Lupin tries.
“Piss off, Remus! This doesn’t concern you.”
“Now, Mr. Black, there’s no need for such coarse language,” Slughorn chides, though it’s half-hearted at best.
"Yeah, don't be mean to Rem -"
“JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER, ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION !”
What response is Sirius fishing for? Impossible to say. Was there any answer in existence that could satisfy him after he’s worked himself into such a strop? Not bloody likely.
“YOU WANT THE TRUTH?!"
"OBVIOUSLY -"
"TRUTHFULLY, SIRIUS, I DON'T THINK YOU CAN HANDLE THE TRUTH!"
"SO, YOU DO THINK HE'S UGLY, HOW DARE YOU -"
"I LITERALLY DID NOT SAY THAT AT ALL!"
"IT WAS CLOSE ENOUGH!"
"YOU'RE PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH AGAIN!"
Uncaring of propriety, Regulus covers his ears... it doesn't help much, sigh.
"MAYBE I WOULDN'T HAVE TO ASSUME THINGS IF YOU'D ACTUALLY ANSWER THE QUESTION, JAMES!"
"I'M NOT SO SURE I WANT TO, CONSIDERING YOU HAVEN'T SAID 'PLEASE', ONCE!"
His brother looks to be about a heartbeat away from committing a serious... heh... crime, to the point where Regulus is becoming mildly concerned for Potter's safety.
"IF YOU DON'T ANSWER MY QUESTION, NOW, YOU WILL RUE THIS DAY UNTIL YOUR DYING BREATH -"
"OH MY GODRIC, FINE!" Potter screeches, standing almost nose-to-nose with Sirius. "Yes, okay?! Yes, Sirius, I think your brother is very beautiful."
"Well -"
Potter smacks a hand over his friend's mouth. "SHUT YOUR TRAP, I AM NOT DONE! Let me put it into perspective for you, since you wanted to know SO badly. The truth is, Sirius, I think Regulus is the prettiest person in this castle... in fact, I think your brother is more beautiful than you AND Pierre combined! Are you fucking happy now? Or do you want me to keep going? Because I can if you really want me to!”
Oh Merlin, no, there is no happiness here, none whatsoever. Out of all the things in the world Potter could say, he had to choose that?!
Given the way Sirius’s face flushes, he absolutely does not like Potter’s answer.
Which… duh, how could Potter be idiotic enough to say Regulus was better looking than Sirius? Does he know his ‘best mate’ at all? Even if that is legitimately Potter’s opinion… which it’s definitely not (and if it is, Potter clearly needs to get his eyes re-checked)… you NEVER tell Sirius Black someone is better looking than him, especially Regulus. Adding Pierre Legrand into the mix was just the cherry on top.
"That's some high praise there, mate."
Potter shrugs. "You asked."
"I did... and now I want to know why you think you have the right to flirt with my little brother?!”
Furiously shaking his head, Potter reaches for his fuming friend, but Sirius's icy glare has him dropping his hands back down. "N-no, I... I wouldn't do that to you, Sirius. I wouldn't flirt with... I wouldn't flirt with your brother, I just think he's pretty, that's all, I swear!"
"I can confirm." By the grace of Merlin, Regulus's voice remains steady. "Potter does not flirt with me."
"Although, would it really be so bad if he did?" Slughorn pipes up. "After all, Mr. Potter is your closest friend, Sirius, and who better to partner up with your sibling than the person you trust most in the world?"
Their words have the opposite affect than intended.
Sirius gasps dramatically, his eyes widening like he’s had a major epiphany. “DO YOU… YOU ACTUALLY… YOU FANCY HIM, DON’T YOU, JAMES? You fancy my brother!”
Regulus scowls at their Potions professor, who at least has the decency to look abashed.
“No, I… I don't, I... I can explain!” Potter stammers, wringing his hands together. “Um, it’s… it’s not what it looks like, Sirius, I promise, it's not!”
“IS THAT SO?” Sirius bellows, poking his friend in the chest. “I gotta admit, James, I am dying to hear what you’ve really been doing with my brother these last two weeks. Go on then, explain!”
Regulus swears he can literally tell the exact moment that Lupin decides that if he’s miserable, then everyone else should suffer too.
“You wanna know something funny, Sirius? James has been doing that for a while now… flirting with your brother, that is.” Lupin examines his fingernails, like he’s indifferent to the direction their conversation has gone in. “Since last term, actually. But congratulations on finally noticing.” Raising his head, he meets Sirius’s eyes dead on. “I suppose I should cut you some slack though, seeing as how you didn’t give a hippogriff’s arse about Regulus until a few weeks ago, when you needed something from him.”
Merlin and Morgana, do all Gryffindor’s have a death wish?!
The ensuing silence is suffocating, the tension in the air palpable. Regulus, personally, is floored by Lupin’s audacity, his shock outweighing his discomfort over the callous, somewhat true remark. Recovering first, Slughorn starts ranting something along the lines of, ‘That’s just not on, Mr. Lupin, surely you don’t believe that!’ The other two Gryffindors remain frozen; Potter looks like he had a vision of his own murder and is seconds away from delving into full blown panic attack, while Sirius remains expressionless, hardly breathing… until he decides to ignore Narcissa’s explicit wishes and launches himself at his (former?) friend, fists flying.
A look of relief passes over Lupin’s face, before it’s obscured by a punch, and just like that, Regulus understands his schtick; well acquainted with how awful it is to be on his brother’s bad side, being the center of Sirius’s negative attention is occasionally preferable than being flat out ignored. Granted, Regulus isn’t the type who seeks that sort of thing out... perhaps that’s a Gryffindor trait?
“TAKE IT BACK, REMUS JOHN LUPIN!” Sirius roars, managing to land one solid hit on Lupin (that doesn’t faze him in the slightest, what the fuck). “YOU KNOW THAT’S BOLLOCKS, SO TAKE IT BACK!”
Slughorn shouts at them to stop, ‘Come on lads, break it up, you’re both better than this!’, but... they're really, really not.
All it takes is Regulus extending his arm out and muttering, ‘Give them a minute’, to keep Potter from joining in the fracas. And what a relief that is, because Regulus is actually just waiting for an opening to either assist his brother or yank him out - he doesn’t want to deal with Potter’s conflicting loyalties on top of everything else.
But by the time that minute passes, the two are done rolling around on the ground; Lupin manhandles Sirius like he weighs nothing, easily pinning his arms and legs to his side, Salazar, how is he both strong and flexible?!
“I’m sorry, Sirius,” Lupin grunts, not even breaking a sweat as Sirius thrashes underneath him, determined to free himself. “But you ignoring me isn’t getting us anywhere. This might not be ideal, but at least we'll be able to talk it out.” Ah, but he seems to have forgotten exactly who he’s dealing with; since Sirius is well… Sirius, he attempts to sink his teeth into any part of Lupin’s skin he can reach. “Ow, you berk, stop biting me!”
“NO, LET ME GO!”
Regulus resists the urge to fan himself (Merlin, he really is a terrible brother, isn’t he?) when Lupin effortlessly flips Sirius onto his stomach, holding him in place with a knee on his back.
Clinging tightly to Regulus’s arm, Potter looks grief-stricken, like he’s witnessing his own funeral procession.
"Stop that," the youngest Black mutters, pulling the older boy's fingers out of his mouth. "Nail biting is tacky and gross."
"Well, guess I'm tacky."
He grimaces when Potter starts gnawing on his fingernails again. "Oh my god, would you quit it?!"
"Oh my god," Potter says mockingly. "I can't help it, okay?! I don't get stressed easily," wow, must be nice, Regulus so cannot relate, "but when I do, this is how I cope!"
Grabbing his hand, Regulus weaves their fingers together. "This is an example of a healthy coping mechanism." He angles their bodies so Sirius won't be able to see, should he happen to glance over... because that would not be healthy for any of them.
But Sirius is still occupied trying to escape from Lupin's hold.
“Would you stop, Sirius, you're going to hurt yourself!” Naturally, the demand only causes Sirius to flail harder. “Please, just let me apologize… for everything… and then we can go back to being friends."
"NO!"
"I miss you, I miss you so fucking much, you have no idea." Regulus isn't sure if his wince is from the sheer desperation in Lupin's voice, or Potter's excruciating grip on his hand. "Please, Sirius.”
“HOW DO YOU NOT GET IT, REMUS?! AREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE THE SMART ONE? CUZ I AM NOT SEEING IT LATELY!”
"Get what -"
"I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND, OKAY?!" Lupin goes lax, the wind knocked out of him by the savage admittance. Sirius doesn’t seem to notice though, nor does he react to Potter’s distressed whimper. “I WANT TO BE YOUR BLOODY BOYFRIEND, EXCEPT YOU ALREADY HAVE ONE, AND I CAN'T HANDLE, I CAN'T…” His face drains of color, suddenly realizing what he just confessed. “I need to… oh fuck, I need to go.”
Notes:
hehe, bit of a cliffhanger for ya ;)
... but since I feel bad, here's what to expect in the next chapter: An explanation for Sirius's dramatic freak out on James, Black family bonding, and someone is gonna have a major secret revealed to the others :)
Chapter 25: Confessions of a Teenage Drama King
Notes:
Posting this a day earlier than usual since I was almost a day late last week lollll
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Lupin has a boyfriend?!... a boyfriend that isn’t Sirius?
That’s just… wow.
Regulus almost doesn't believe it...
Next to him, Potter also appears flummoxed, though it’s impossible to determine if that's due to the news of Lupin’s relationship status, Sirius FINALLY admitting his feelings for his friend... or perhaps his bewilderment is merely a ruse, intended to serve a (currently) unknown purpose? (Regulus discards the latter theory immediately, because that would require Potter to have more than one brain cell, and considering this most recent drama occurred due to his LACK of thinking, the one brain cell theory is definitely valid.)
Since his current vantage point doesn't allow him a good view of Lupin's expression, Regulus is trying to subtly shift over a bit when, without warning, the boy in question goes flying across the room, Sirius’s accidental or wandless magic coming into play. Thanks to Slughorn's quick-thinking spellwork, the freakishly tall Gryffindor doesn't go splat onto the wall (more's the pity). In the midst of the chaos, his brother clambers to his feet and sprints out of the classroom, steadfastly ignoring Slughorn's shouts for him to return; regaining his own footing, Lupin attempts to follow.
Between this last cringe-inducing moment and all the fuss prior, in order for Sirius to have a productive conversation with anyone, let alone Lupin, he needs ample time to process everything. Of that, Regulus is certain.
So, while he might not be as big and strong as Remus Lupin, Regulus Black does play Quidditch.
Decision made, it’s exceptionally satisfying to body-check Lupin into a nearby desk. With a wave of his wand, snatched out of the vase conveniently located by the exit, the classroom door slams shut, delaying their Gryffindor-pursuers further. His longer legs allow him to easily catch up to his brother, and they barrel their way through the dungeons until they reach the relative safety of Regulus's dorm. Flinging himself onto his brother's bed with a muted cry, Sirius waits until the curtains close around him, before breaking down fully.
Although Regulus is unsure how to comfort his brother after that awful shit show, he refuses to sit there uselessly while Sirius bawls his heart out.
Hmm... what would Pandora do, what would Pandora do?
First thing's first - physical comfort.
Brushing Sirius's hair off of his face the best he can, Regulus then rubs soothing circles on his brother's back, until the worst of his sobs subside.
To say he’s taken aback by this newest revelation would be a gross understatement. Mostly, Regulus can’t believe he never once wondered why Sirius was so averse to returning to his own dorm. Yes, his brother lands on the sensitive side of the emotional spectrum, and he’s just as prideful as every Black before him. But it’s been nearly two weeks since Sirius started sleeping in Slytherin, eating at their table... blimey, he’s even progressed to willingly spending time with Severus Snape! Of course, there’s more than just a petty fight between mates, but Regulus was too chuffed about having his brother around to use that bit of cunning he claims to possess, leaving him blindsided.
And Lupin, having a non-Sirius boyfriend? What is that about?!
Granted, Remus Lupin is a good-looking bloke, who's intelligent, kind, and only slightly-less popular than his extroverted buddies. So in that regard, it makes sense that he's been snatched off the market... but to be dating someone that isn't Sirius?! It's madness! And if Lupin isn't single, then what's with the longing looks?! Regulus refuses to believe that sort of yearning comes from a person missing their close friend.
Good thing I didn't burn any bridges with Potter earlier this evening! Hopefully, he either already has information on Lupin's suitor, or he can easily get it... and is willing to share it. Once that's acquired, I can begin plotting.
Why would you involve yourself?! his inner voice asks incredulously.
Regulus looks down at his distraught brother in silent explanation.
But if they get together, the voice snidely points out, Sirius will leave and go back to Gryffindor. And then you'll lose Potter too. Sure, Sirius is upset now, but do you really want to go out of your way to push him back into their unworthy hands? Think of it like this - if Lupin and Sirius make amends, everything goes back to the way it was before your brother showed up in Slytherin; the four-man brotherhood of the Marauders, together again, and you, Regulus Black, the actual brother, left alone, forgotten, nothing.
And... well, that's actually a good point. If Lupin is too stupid to realize how perfect Sirius is for him, is that really Regulus's problem? Maybe he can help his brother find a better boyfriend, a Slytherin boyfriend, like Evan, perhaps -
His brain suddenly processes what Sirius is muttering to himself - "Ce n'est pas juste, ce n'est pas juste, ce n'est pas juste."
It's not fair.
Regulus sighs, because yeah, it's not fair, is it?
There's no harm in gathering knowledge, his conscience points out (which sounds suspiciously like Pandora...). Figure out who Lupin is dating, then go from there... or not! But wouldn't it be nice to know who has taken Sirius's place?
No arguments are brought up against that plan of action - it seems that every part of Regulus's being is curious about Lupin's mysterious beau.
Eventually, Sirius’s crying tapers off, and with obvious reluctance, he rolls onto his back, teary eyes blinking up at his younger brother. “S-sorry." The Gryffindor takes the proffered handkerchief with a mumbled 'thanks'. “Merlin, I’m a mess.”
“Nothing new there, brother,” Regulus timidly teases, almost bursting into tears himself when Sirius gives him a watery smile in response. He decides to start with a safe question to soften his brother up for the impending interrogation. “Where were you going before I caught up to you? It didn’t look like you were going back to our... erm, my dorm.”
Sirius frowns. “Working on instinct mostly… but knowing my brain, probably to drown myself in the Black Lake…”
A wave of pure terror washes over Regulus at the flippant remark.
“I mean, blimey, I can never show my face in Hogwarts again! Do you think Mother will let us transfer to Durmstrang mid-semester?”
Images from nightmares Regulus has endured for as long as he can remember flash through his mind; the murkiness of the water, how it becomes darker and darker the further he sinks, the pale, humanoid shapes reaching out for him, pulling him down, deeper into the abyss, closer to his end...
“Fuck, Regulus, I’m so sorry.”
... waking up drenched in sweat, his own pale fingers clawing at his throat, gasping for breath, the constant, ever-present fear in the back of his mind, even when he’s awake.
Sirius yanks him into a bone-crushing, restorative hug... a bit ironic though, given how Regulus was supposed to be comforting him, not the other way around. “I shouldn’t have made that joke, it was tactless.”
Sucking in a deep breath, so weak, can’t even take a joke without freaking out, you always make everything about you, selfish selfish selfish, he murmurs, “It’s fine.”
“No!” Sirius barks, gray eyes blazing when he leans back to look at Regulus. “It is not okay, and you’re allowed to be upset with me. I know better than to make jokes of the sort, and you know I know better, Reg, so it’s not okay, not in the slightest.”
burden.
“I... I don’t like it when you, or anyone really, make jokes about drowning.” His brother nods approvingly, which gives Regulus the courage to add, “You can throw yourself off the Astronomy Tower instead, if it so pleases you.”
Sirius frowns again, and the Slytherin worries he just made his own faux pas. “Don’t you read Hogwarts: A History?”
“Er… what?”
“Oh dear, are you not a swot like I thought?” Sirius looks and sounds very concerned all of a sudden. “Has my whole life been a lie? Can you even read to begin with?”
Of course he's read Hogwarts: A History … who hasn’t?! But he was probably ten the last time he read it, so he’s not sure what part his brother is alluding towards.
“What are you going on about, you berk?”
“Well, if you could read, Reg,” Sirius lightly flicks the younger’s nose, “you would know there are charms around the entire castle preventing anyone from throwing themselves -“
“What about other people?”
“… or anyone else off.”
“How preposterous!” Phew, Regulus sure is glad he never pushed Potter out of a classroom window like he used to dream of... Merlin, how awkward would it have been for the Gryffindor to bounce back into the room, then turn around to beat the stuffing out of him? If Regulus is going to risk a sentence in Azkaban, it better be for a crime he successfully completed; the thought of everyone knowing he failed to get the job done makes him want to puke. “Maybe offer yourself as a sacrifice to the Whomping Willow?”
“Psh, no, Nyx loves me, she’d never hurt me.”
Befriending a dangerous, violent tree is such a Sirius thing to do, Regulus doesn’t even question it. “I'll take your word for it. But umm… for what it’s worth, Sir, I’m sorry about Lupin.”
“S’not your fault that I’m a schmuck who fell for his best friend, then proceeded to have a breakdown upon learning that said best friend already had a boyfriend.” Head tilting to the side, Sirius blinks several times before hissing, “I am sure Mother is somehow to blame for this! Don’t you agree, Reg? It’s gotta be a personality defect or something. Like who in the real world actually falls in love with their best friend?! That tripe only happens in novels!”
A lot of people probably fall in love with their best friend, but Regulus won’t allow his brother’s cavalier attitude distract him. “Admittedly, I do maintain faith that Lupin, who appears to possess some degree of intelligence, will indeed make the sensible choice in this matter. How exceedingly dimwitted would he be to remain with some… some commoner, now that he knows you’re interested?”
“Admittedly,” Sirius mocks, playfully sticking his tongue out, “I do not possess that same faith. But I thank you for your support. Genuinely, Reg, it means a lot.” Rude as ever, his brother them denies him the opportunity to argue his point by abruptly changing the topic. “You know I’m not bothered by it, yeah? I was just trying to get Slughorn to let us work together, but I may have gone a wee bit overboard... just a tad, though!”
The Slytherin’s confusion isn’t faked. “What?”
“If you and James fancy each other,” Sirius says earnestly. “I support it, honestly! Of course, that’s so long as you tell me and don’t go behind my back with it.”
Regulus fervently shakes his head. “No, Merlin no, brother, you’ve got the wrong idea! I despise everything about James Potter, he’s the absolute worst, I can’t stand him, and I would never, ever betray you by having feelings for your best friend, that would be abhorrent -”
“Hate is awfully close to love, cousin,” a feminine voice trills, and they both jump when the bed curtains are flung open with a whoosh.
Rubbing a hand over his heart, the Black heir squawks, “Bloody hell, you really are a pair of sneaky snakes, aren’t you?!”
Narcissa beams down at them, her eyes holding a mischievous glint usually found in Sirius’s own. “Aw, thank you, cousin, you flatter me.”
“That was not -”
“But you see,” she continues, unabashedly speaking right over him, “what’s abhorrent in all of this is how we’ve yet to discuss Regulus’s positively adorable crush on Potter! A conversation long past overdue, don’t you agree, Andie?”
Coming to stand behind her sister, Andromeda’s wicked grin promises nothing good. “For what it’s worth, darling, he obviously feels the same.” Moving with impressive speed, she pinches Regulus’s cheek before he has the opportunity to even think of recoiling away. “How could he not, when you’re simply the cutest?”
His mind screams at him to deny, deny, DENY… but his mouth doesn’t follow suit, too busy gaping at the girls to do something so useful.
“James is of the opinion that Regulus is better looking than me and Pierre Legrand… combined!”
“That’s quite the compliment!” Andromeda whistles. “I mean… you’re decent, Siri, so no high praise there, but surely we can all agree that Legrand was one hell of a looker, yeah?”
A scowl replaces Sirius’s smirk. “Friendly reminder that James is legitimately half-blind… and you’re overdue for a vision exam, methinks!”
“Madam Pomfrey checked his vision again when term started,” Narcissa counters, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Andromeda climbs in next to Sirius, who reluctantly sits up to make space for her. “I promise you, Potter can see just fine if he’s wearing his glasses. He obviously has a crush on our little Regulus!”
The younger Slytherin finally settles on the perfect response to put an end to this nonsense. “Ah, such a pity… the infamous Black Family Madness strikes again.”
“Puh- lease, in your dreams, maybe!” Andromeda scoffs.
Narcissa winks so unsubtly at Regulus, he mentally vows to ensure her and Barty stay far away from each other in the future… clearly his friend is a poor influence on his impressionable cousin. “Don’t be mistaken, Andie. I’m sure the baby’s dreams are filled with Potter and his heroic deeds on the Quidditch Pitch.”
“NO!” Regulus shrieks, further burdened by the knowledge that he can’t chuck himself off the Astronomy Tower to avoid further humiliation.
Sirius is crying again, but at least this time it’s from mirth. “Y-your face, Reg, oh Merlin, I can’t breathe, it hurts, it hurts!!”
“I can assure you that soon, this charming, handsome face will be on the cover of Witch Weekly every other month,” Regulus boasts in his best Gilderoy Lockhart impression. “It would be an unforgivable crime to deprive the masses of such a wondrous sight to behold, don't you agree?”
Narcissa cringes, “Salazar, that is so creepy, you sound just like him! Ugh, I’m going to have nightmares now.”
“Imagine if they dated?” Andromeda muses, smiling innocently when three disgusted looks are directed her way. “I meant Regulus and Potter, oops.”
“Imagine if we talked about literally anything else,” Regulus grumbles under his breath.
Sirius smushes the younger’s cheeks together. “It’s the baby’s first crush! Er… rather, his first crush on someone not old enough to be his grandfather.” Oh, so it's somehow my fault that Newt Scamander is the epitome of perfection?! I think not! “This is an exciting time!”
Knocking his brother’s hands away, Regulus sneers, “On the way to the Hospital Wing after my skirmish with Lupin, your precious Potter referred to me as his brother!” He shudders at the memory; the words left him discomfited even then, and their snogging sessions did absolutely nothing to lessen the sense of wrongness. “Thus, I can say with absolute clarity, your mate does not see me in any such romantic way.”
Andromeda waves her hand dismissively. “I’m positive he didn’t mean it like you’d presume.”
“James also calls me his brother,” Sirius remarks with a shrug, “and we’ve snogged a few times. Andie’s right, it’s not a big deal.”
A moment of uncomfortable silence passes, followed by another, and then another.
Turning to her youngest cousin, Andromeda’s expression becomes one of utmost concern. “Sweetheart, you can always come to Cissa and I with any predicament you might have, you know that, right? Regardless of how hopeless or distressing a situation might seem, even if someone threatens to harm you if you reveal their secret… I assure you, we’ll take care of it.”
The youngest Black nods slowly… she’s not insinuating what he thinks she’s insinuating, right? He must be mistaken.
“Oi, don’t be like that!” his brother huffs, splotches of color forming on his cheeks. “You know what I was trying to say!”
“You’re not meant to take ‘Toujours Pur’ that seriously, Sirius.” Narcisa snickers at her own joke. “Heh, get it?”
Wrinkling his nose, Sirius grumbles, “You're so lame, Cissy, Merlin have mercy on us! And for the record, cousins, James is an only child... he doesn’t comprehend his words like those of us with blood siblings do.”
“Okay, but you also call Potter your brother!” Andromeda counters hotly. “We’ve heard you say it, Sirius, so don’t bother denying it. Plus, you snog him back! So, I ask you, cousin… what does that reveal about YOU?”
“It ‘reveals’ that Sirius is peculiar!” Regulus cries in defense of his brother. “As we already know! There’s nothing perverse or untoward about it, he’s just weird.”
The brunette squeezes his shoulder consolingly. “It’s alright, Regulus, you don’t have to cover for him anymore. Let Cissa and I handle this.”
“WHAT ?! I don’t… I never… I wouldn’t… how could anyone ever t-think… no!” Sirius sputters, arms flailing dangerously as he tries to articulate his denials. “I would never, my sweet little Reggie, my baby brother… how dare you suggest that I have engaged in such depraved, vile, utterly pernicious -” Andromeda claps her hands together with a look of triumph, while Narcissa shouts, ‘That’s such bollocks!’ “...behavior?”
As it turns out, their cousins have expanded their gambling ways, oh joy. This newest game involves getting people to say specific words 'naturally' during conversation. The words are agreed upon ahead of time, though there's no 'trust system' involved - both sisters have to hear the word spoken for it to count. And the less common it is in the Hogwarts vernacular, the more money it’s worth (‘pernicious’ was worth a whopping twenty galleons, half of which were voluntarily given to Sirius for ‘being a good sport’... then it's halved again, with five galleons ending up in Regulus’s money pouch).
“I hope in the future, Sirius, you will think twice about how you speak!” Andromeda says while stowing away her newly earned galleons. “Because it is weird to call Potter your brother, then causally mention how you two have snogged before."
"What-ever," the Gryffindor sniffs, refusing to admit she has a point.
"Anyways, back to Regulus and his non-brother.”
“Sooo… did you two hear about Reg and James snogging in front of our Heads’ of House to give me an alibi with the Smith thing?” Their cousins don’t look shocked at all by the reveal, which is highly concerning… though it is satisfying to see the wind knocked out of his brother’s sails. “Aww, there’s no way you knew that already, you're lying!”
A barrage of half-formed plans bounce through Regulus’s mind… would Pandora be open to him bunking in Ravenclaw with her, preferably until graduation? Would Mother let him transfer to Durmstrang mid-semester? If Regulus offered her high quality food in exchange for shelter, would the basilisk permit him to share the Chamber of Secrets with her?... fuck, to escape this conversation, Regulus might offer himself as food.
“Sluggy did mention a kiss,” Andromeda muses, “but it sounded like a peck. Perhaps there’s a generational difference in the definition of snogging?”
So much for not gossiping, huh?... and people wonder why Regulus has trust issues!
Narcissa shakes her head. “He gave me the impression it happened this evening.”
Five seconds - that’s how long it takes for Sirius to unravel the discrepancies.
“WHAT?! There was a ‘peck’ this evening, during detention?” The younger nods feebly; outright lying to Sirius is a futile endeavor, he knows that all too well. “I see. And did this ‘peck’ occur before or after you cut your hand?” Unable to speak with the way his throat is constricting, nodding again only gains Regulus a growled, "That was NOT a 'yes' or 'no' question, Regulus Arcturus, it requires a verbal response!"
“B-before,” he stutters, the panic starting to set in.
Fuck, he’s SO in for it now.
You knew you shouldn’t do it, and yet you did it anyway, the snide voice in his head sing-songs. Have fun enjoying the consequences of your desperation.
“Be honest… is that why you ended up cutting your hand?” Braced for the imminent explosion, Regulus hums in the affirmative - it’s close enough to the truth, much better for his brother to believe that, than to go into the nitty gritty details.
“THAT IS FUCKING UNBELIEVABLE!” Sirius roars, causing the younger to flinch backwards. He barely resists the urge to cover his ears. “SO, YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT MY BEST MATE IS KISSING ON MY LITTLE BROTHER, IN THE MIDDLE OF DETENTION, WHILE SAID LITTLE BROTHER IS USING A KNIFE AND HANDLING POTENTIALLY DANGEROUS SUBSTANCES?!”
“That appears to be the case, yes,” Narcissa drawls. “I, however, do not see the need to shout about it.”
Leaping to his feet, Sirius furiously paces the length of the room. “I’M GOING TO SHOUT IF I WANT TO SHOUT, BECAUSE IT'S A SHOUTABLE OFFENSE! JUST WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DOES HE THINK HE’S PLAYING AT?! MY BROTHER?! OF ALL THE PEOPLE IN THIS SCHOOL… MY LITTLE BROTHER?!”
“I’m sorry!” Regulus whimpers, wishing he had the courage to tell Potter to piss off earlier this evening, or better yet, weeks ago, when this whole thing started. "I'm sorry, Siri, I am!"
His apologies go unacknowledged.
“How dare he… cannot understand why… loyalty, pfft don’t know her… sneaking around… lies, so many lies… and straight to my beautiful face too, the audacity… Grandmother always said… only Blacks… untrustworthy… should have listened… how many other secrets… could have anyone… my brother?!” Abruptly halting his pacing, Sirius’s eyes darken until they resemble springtime storm clouds. “I’m going to kill him. It's unfortunate, but it's gotta be done."
“Oh stop, you big, overdramatic git!” Andromeda whacks the Black heir upside the head with a pillow. “We all know you won’t lay a finger on your beloved -”
"YOU WANNA BET ON IT, ANDIE?!"
The guilt, the lying, the fear of the rapidly approaching fallout with his brother, it all suddenly becomes too much, leading Regulus to do something he hasn’t done in years.
He cries.
(Last week’s emotional outburst was entirely a result of his concussion, meaning it does not count, and in fact, should be forgotten by all parties who had the misfortune of witnessing it).
“Bellatrix invented dragon tears, little cousin,” Narcissa softly chides. “And I perfected them. They’re not going to get you out of discussing this entanglement you have with Potter, I'm sorry.”
Andromeda clicks her tongue. “Stop this, Regulus! You’re going to hurt your eyes again.”
Their reprimands only cause Regulus to sob harder. He doesn’t care if his eyes are about to bleed again, he doesn’t care that they all think he’s faking it, how could any of that matter when he’s about to lose everything? Sure, Sirius says he’s alright with the idea of Potter and Regulus ‘fancying’ each other, which is laughable in and of itself, because how could James Potter ever have feelings for Regulus Black? He said it himself, he finds enjoyment in the mystery of it all, but once he actually gets to know Regulus, realizes there’s absolutely nothing redeemable or likable underneath his unforthcoming exterior, he’ll kick him to the curb... not that Potter will get anywhere close to knowing him, because once Sirius realizes precisely how much lying and sneaking around they’ve been doing…
It’s inevitable that Sirius will forgive Potter, his chosen brother. Everyone knows that.
Always his brother’s last choice, soon, Regulus won’t even be an option.
He tries to pull away when Sirius wraps his arms around him, I don't deserve comfort, I'm a burden, a plague our family can’t ever rid themselves of, but his brother refuses to let go. “Reggie, those aren’t dragon tears, are they? What’s wrong, little star? I’m sorry if I frightened you, I just got all worked up about James being the reason you got hurt, especially after he swore to look after you.”
“I lied to y-you,” Regulus sniffles, hiding his face in Sirius’s chest. Best to take advantage of the closeness while he still can, before it becomes a distant memory of a life once lived. “I’ve been lying to you, and I… I’m so sorry, please don’t leave, you don’t have to! I can sleep in Evan’s bed, I won’t bother you at all, you don’t have to go back to them.”
The fingers carding through his hair temporarily relocate to cover his ears, but Regulus can still hear his brother’s loud bark of laughter. “Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you? If anything, I will sleep in Evan’s bed, and you can sleep alone… but you’re getting ahead of yourself again, Reggie.”
“Ella and Emma will kill you if you so much as think about it,” Narcissa warns. “I’m not exaggerating, you better stay away from him if you know what’s good for you.”
“They’d leave Evan absolutely devastated if they off’d me, as they bloody well know!” Sirius tuts. “You Pureblood ladies are heartless, absolutely heartless, I swear it.”
“How about instead of discussing the politics of the Rosier siblings, we let Regulus tell us what he’s been lying about, hmm?” Andromeda intervenes with a pointed look.
Sirius refuses to continue until two drops of potion are placed in each of Regulus's eyes. Leaning back against his brother's chest, he keeps his gaze trained firmly on the ceiling, unwilling to see their negative reactions to his tale, even if he deserves every single one of them and more.
Regulus starts by describing how he made the first move, so to speak, the morning after Sirius’s arrival in Slytherin, kissing Potter on the cheek while they were sniping at each other in the Entrance Hall. Some days later, he then made the next move, snogging Potter out of the blue while the Gryffindor was panicking over their misunderstanding in the broom closet (which Regulus acknowledges was also his fault). Another bout of shame-induced sobbing nearly overtakes him when he explains how he begged Potter not to tell his brother about the incident, but after correctly concluding that Regulus would never trust his word alone, Potter kissed him to even the score. That particular series of events inspired Regulus's plan to snog in front of their Heads’ of House, though he takes care to emphasize how he didn’t give Potter a choice in the scheme, which then resulted in the Gryffindor feeling compelled to kiss him the next day in front of McGonagall to maintain their ruse.
Deciding it was best to lay all of his cards on the table, the youngest Black briefly mentions his time in his brother's dorm, how Potter was half-asleep and not thinking clearly when he kissed Regulus… several times. Feeling Sirius's arms tightening around him, Regulus hurriedly clarifies that those instances were prior to his consumption of magic brownies, and despite his best attempts while under the influence, Potter denied his requests to snog again. He then goes on to confirm what Sirius expected to be true from the start, how it was Potter who pulled him behind the tapestry after Charms, but only to talk - it was Regulus who made the encounter indecent, just like it was Regulus who twisted their time in detention from something innocent and amicable, into something lecherous and debased.
“To confirm,” his brother says immediately upon the conclusion of Regulus's long-winded story, “this whole thing with you and James started the day after I showed up in your dorm, yeah? Not anytime prior?”
Bet he really regrets his decision to bunk in Slytherin now, huh?
“Correct, this year only.”
“And you are not engaging in the sort of coquetry that goes beyond the occasional snogging?”
“Absolutely not.”
“I see…” the combination of anxiety, shame, and dread coursing through Regulus’s body is literally going to make him sick, he just knows it. “Well, that’s a relief!” With an airy laugh, Sirius claps him on the back. “You really had me worried there for a second, Reggie. But hey, you in the mood for a kitchen run?" Standing up, the Gryffindor waves a hand down his front, vanishing the mess Regulus's tears left behind. "All this drama has me hankering for some biscuits.”
Narcissa nods eagerly. “Ooh, bring me some, please!”
“Uh, no, get your own, you lazy -”
“Listen here, twerp -”
“Oi! Who are you calling -”
“I… what?” Regulus falters. “I don’t… I don’t understand? I have acted in a way that is shameful, improper, and wholly unbefitting of someone of our status, I have done nothing but desecrate and dishonor our bond as brother’s with my heinous, deplorable actions -”
Sirius clamps a hand over his mouth. “Let me stop you right there, Regulus." The hand is quickly removed, likely due to concerns about teeth sinking into his flesh. "Look at it from my perspective. I either have to believe that my little brother is some sort of man-eating seductress, or that James, your partner in crime, also played a major role in this ‘entanglement’, as Narcissa so aptly deemed it. I’m sure you can guess which version I’m going to go with.”
The girls adamantly concur with Sirius’s words.
“You’re not upset?” Regulus hedges uneasily. “Any of you? I don’t… I mean... I am pleased, don’t get me wrong, but I entangled,” he scrunches his nose up at the wording, “with James Potter, my brother’s best friend, and I lied about it, and it’s improper -”
“Little star, it’s been two weeks, not even!” Sirius interrupts with a chuckle, sitting back down on the bed. “As much as I wish to know everything right away, you needed time to work it out in your own head first, I get that. I don’t consider it an act of betrayal on your part, Reg.”
“You could do much worse than James Potter,” Andromeda says before Regulus can inquire as to what precisely his brother means. “Right, Cissa?”
Narcissa shrugs. “Potter’s not my first choice for Regulus, not even in the top five, but I suppose he’s adequate. He’s a wizard, so that’s a plus, from a rich family, relatively intelligent, into the sport you love, likes you, and he’s also a Pureblood, meaning the adults will have less to gripe about if this ever gets out -"
“This isn’t going to get out farther than it already has!”
“I’ll deal with Mother if -”
“That’s not what I meant!” the youngest Black snaps, cutting his brother off. “Just because Potter flirted with me a few times and snogged me back doesn’t mean he wants to date me. I’m surely nothing more than an experiment to him, or someone to casually mess around with, no strings attached, because he knows that after Hogwarts, I will marry a witch, as is expected of me.” To distract Sirius from going on another rant about how Regulus will marry a witch over his dead and decomposed body, he hurriedly asks, “So wait, why are you mad at Potter? Because it’s also been two weeks on his part.”
“Has it, though? I don’t get the impression Remus was lying about how long James has been attempting to flirt with you. That is what offends me… my best mate shouldn’t even look at my younger brother in such a way without first asking my permission!”
Uh, Regulus would obviously know if Potter had flirted with him before this year - he did not. Truthfully, he believes Lupin would have said anything if it meant gaining Sirius’s attention; too taken aback by his friend’s lies to come up with a proper rebuttal, Potter really got himself into a pickle with his inability to think on his feet.
“Attempting,” Narcissa echoes with a snort. “That’s a good word to describe both Potter’s suaveness, or lack thereof, along with Regulus’s obliviousness when anyone shows interest in him.”
Andromeda gazes sternly at her youngest cousin. “You and Potter need to sit down and have a proper conversation about this.”
“I’d rather be trampled to death by a herd of centaurs and have my corpse tossed into the Forbidden Forest to be devoured by Acromantulas, than do such a horrid thing.”
“Real charming that was, brother dearest... but you know, if you want, I could talk to James -”
“NO!”
Their cousins share a glance that the Black heir, for once, correctly interprets.
Sirius puffs his chest out. “I can be subtle, I'd be a great match-maker!”
There are so many responses Regulus can say to that, but most of them are mean, and he doesn’t want to risk his brother changing his mind about not hating him.
“If you talk to Potter, I’ll…” Scanning the room for inspiration, he finds it on his desk, where the latest copy of the Daily Prophet rests. “I’ll spread terrible rumors about you!”
“Wait, let me get this straight,” Sirius says, expression unreadable. “Or not straight, actually... if I try to help you get with my best mate, the bloke you’re crushing on, you’ll out me to the whole school?”
Regulus rolls his eyes. “No, that’s tacky. Besides, who would believe that Womanizer-Sirius-Black doesn’t like witches at all?” His brother huffs out a laugh, posture relaxing. “I’ll tell everyone you mock Severus for his large nose because it reminds you of the giant honker you were born with, the one you had until Mother permitted you to undergo a procedure at St Mungos to rectify it before you started at Hogwarts.”
“No one would believe you!” Sirius shouts indignantly over their cousin’s hysterical laughter. “Especially after all those Ministry luncheons and stuffy society parties we went to as kids -”
“Ah yes, the ones where our parents covered you in glamor charms so thick, you looked like a completely different person?”
“Try again,” Sirius sniffs, proudly raising his ‘perfect’ nose in the air.
Fine, if he insists!
“Ooh, or I’ll tell everyone you befriended Potter for easier access to Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, something you need excessive amounts of because your hair is so bushy and unruly without it.”
Timorously, Sirius lifts a hand to his hair, before angrily dropping it back down. “N-no… no one would believe that either!”
“Merlin, it would be such a shame if the whole school learned that our parents had to buy your way onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team… I mean, wasn’t the Beater you replaced only a fifth-year at the time?” Regulus tuts. “My, my… how suspicious.”
“He had terrible grades! And… and… and rich or not, our parents would never pay for us to play Quidditch, they think it's a barbaric sport, everyone knows that!”
“Whatever the heir wants, the heir gets, isn’t that how it goes?” Leaning closer, Regulus purrs, “Everything our peers find ‘cool' about you is fake, because in reality, you, Sirius Orion Black, are a giant DORK.”
“I’m not a… Andie, Andie, make him stop!” Sirius whinges, looking pleadingly to their cousins for help. “I won’t say anything to James about you fancying him, alright? And I... I'll have you know, I’m… I’m cool, literally so cool, everyone wants to be like me, you're just jealous!”
Regulus shrugs. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, brother dearest.”
“Andie!”
Andromeda takes pity on him. “Fine, fine. As you surely gathered by now, we came here right from Slughorn’s office.”
“Parent conference?” Sirius asks glumly, fiddling with a loose thread on the sleeve of his robe. “Detention for the rest of my Hogwarts days? Expulsion? Come on, cousins, what does the future have in store for me? Don’t leave a bloke hanging, it’s impolite.”
“Do you ever tire of being so unnecessarily dramatic?” Narcissa saunters out of the room without explanation, meaning she likely doesn't hear his, 'nope, never.'
“Siri, I think you’ve got the wrong idea. Whatever went down tonight during your detention, well... it traumatized poor Sluggy for life.”
“My brother demonstrated how horrendously annoying he can be when he puts his mind to it,” Regulus reveals in total seriousness. “It was an impressive showing.”
In a voice filled with misplaced hope, clearly not knowing the first thing about Horace Slughorn, Sirius asks, “He didn’t tell you everything that happened? Just the bit about Reg and James?”
“Only Cissa and I were called down," Andromeda grimaces, "so we got a full reenactment of it. He was already in his cups by the time we got his note, you see.”
“Lovely, lovely,” Sirius chuckles hysterically. “I just… wow, love that for me, really. Not like it wasn’t mortifying enough for James and Reg to w-witness it.”
Spotting his brother’s eyes watering again, Regulus attempts to get them back on track. “What exactly did Professor Slughorn say?”
“You both will have detention with him for the duration of your sentencing.” Waltzing back into the room, Narcissa snickers when she realizes she startled all three of them. “Meanwhile, your associates will spend some quality time with Filch. Slughorn thinks it’s best for everyone to avoid a repeat of tonight… I expect it’ll be a study hall of sorts, at least for you two.”
Sirius’s eyes narrow at the large metal box clasped in her hand. “Planning to cut someone’s hair? I assure you, it will not be mine.”
“We are going on a journey of self-improvement,” she answers vaguely, already fully absorbed in the list she’s writing on the spare bit of parchment pulled from the pocket of her robe.
“Following times of stress or distress, it’s imperative to emphasize self-care,” Regulus says, quoting his cousin’s previous spiels. Typically, such speeches are given after she's barged into his room unannounced, looking to test a new potion recipe on him and his dormmates. Sure, his skin glows wonderfully afterwards, but at what cost? “Nothing makes you feel ready to take on the world again like a good sprucing up.”
“But I’m already beautiful… “ Sirius glares petulantly at his brother, “NATURALLY.”
“And so very humble,” Andromeda adds sarcastically.
“You could be more beautiful, naturally.” Sirius continues to look skeptical, but Regulus knows his cousin has another fifty-two arguments at the ready. Narcissa will get her way; resistance is but a fruitless endeavor. “And don’t you deserve a relaxing evening after all… that?”
“It’s fun,” Regulus says when everyone turns to look at him.
Salazar, has he ever told a bigger lie than that? Beauty is excruciating.
“Think of it as a renovation. Except instead of a room, it’s your face, hair,” Andromeda's lip curls, “Merlin, your nails, skin -”
“I get it, bloody hell, you both think I’m hideous!” Sirius cries. “Fine, whatever, you win. Renovate to your hearts’ content, cousins.”
Two hours later, Sirius is belting out some Muggle song in the shower, having taken to the beauty box much more eagerly than Regulus ever had. He was planning to help his cousins clean up, but as if sharing one brain, they pin him with a look that has him scouring for ways to flee the room.
"Sorry, I need to pop out for a minute -"
“Regulus,” Narcissa starts, her expression giving nothing away.
It doesn’t matter, though; the rational part of him already knows what they’re about to say. He cocks an eyebrow as if to say go on, but she turns towards her sister.
“I know these last two weeks have been good for the both of you,” Andromeda continues softly. “But you must admit… Sirius doesn’t belong here, he belongs -“
“With us, his family!” the youngest interrupts.
This isn’t a conversation he wants to have with anyone, let alone his two cousins - they’ve never understood his brother, never understood them, not really - but Regulus won’t go down without a fight.
“No,” the brunette says firmly.
“Yes!”
“Sirius belongs with his house and his friends -”
“Sirius belongs with me, his brother.”
“No, he doesn’t -”
“He does!”
“Need I remind you, cousin, Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor -”
No matter how frightening Andromeda looks right now, Regulus won’t be cowed. “I don’t bloody CARE where a decrepit old hat told my brother to sleep when he was eleven, and if you had any sense whatsoever, you would think the same! Quite frankly, it's ridiculous -”
Without so much as a warning, Narcissa casts a nonverbal silencing spell on him, and he watches resentfully as she pockets his wand before he can grab it off his nightstand. “Now, that’s much better.”
“I know you love Sirius, but you also know we’re right,” Andromeda asserts. “And right now, he needs you to be a good brother, to help him mend this rift between him and Lupin. Sure, Sirius is embarrassed right now, and his pride is hurt, because the boy he likes is supposedly dating someone else, but that shouldn't force him out of his own dorm! Regulus, please be reasonable.”
The youngest Black shrugs, arms wide, in lieu of a verbal response... I really need to work on my nonverbal and wandless magic, fuck.
“Should he return to Gryffindor and go back to the way he acted before all of this,” Narcissa says gently, “then you know Lupin was right this evening, and Sirius is unworthy of your assistance, brother or not.”
Regulus bares his teeth at her, because how DARE she bring up his biggest insecurity like that, like it’s nothing.
Before Hogwarts came into the picture, Regulus and Sirius were inseparable, always together, one and the same. And because a majority of their relatives never understood them (not just their cousins), the word 'codependent' was frequently used to describe their bond. But it wasn't like that. Their connection was something else entirely, something deeper, more meaningful. He hates to use the word 'soulmates', given that people automatically think 'romantic' (Regulus can do without the incest jokes, thanks). But in a way, they kind of are. Sirius completes him, and maybe's it's narcissistic (or delusional) of him to think this way, but Regulus likes to believe his brother feels the same way about him. Or at least he did when they were children, before James Potter came in and ruined it all, with his stupid hair, and his stupid glasses, and his stupid, charming personality, and his stupid smirk, and those bulging muscles, and grrr.
Uh...
Anyways, these last two weeks with Sirius have been... words can't even describe it. For the first time in years, Regulus has felt a measure of peace within his soul, even with all the crazy shite that's happened to him lately.
“And while I don’t think that will be the case, as of now, you’re only enabling Sirius to run away from his problems, you aren’t helping him," Narcissa continues, unawares of his internal musings. "Blacks do not give up, nor do they refrain from even attempting to solve their issues. While there is nothing wrong with a tactical retreat, it’s clear that Sirius has no intention of returning to his dorm.”
So what if Sirius doesn’t want to go back? He’s perfectly welcome here, thank you very much!
“Think, cousin," Andromeda urges, "what does it mean to be a ‘family’?”
Not cursing your cousin into silence to prevent him from arguing back when you gang up on him!
“Isn’t family supposed to tell you when you’re being weak, when you’re making the wrong choice, and then aid you on your return to excellence?” Narcissa answers for him. “We all have issues, Regulus, as much as we like to pretend we’re flawless. But in times of need, of vulnerability, we must lean on each other… you need to hear this, though I’m positive you already know it to be true. And Sirius needs you, his brother, to help him overcome this plight he’s found himself in.”
Andromeda reaches a hand out to pat his knee, but Regulus scrambles backwards until his back connects with the headboard.
“I’m sorry we had to corner you like this, darling. I hope you’ll find it within your heart to forgive us -“
“THAT IS ENOUGH, COUSINS!” Sirius shouts from across the room, his terrifying demeanor unaffected by the silky Slytherin robes he’s donning, nor the fluffy green towel wrapped around his head. “I told you to stop teasing him about James, and now look how upset you’ve made him!” Adopting nearly identical looks of chagrin, neither girl corrects his wrong conclusion. “Did you… you put a silencing charm on him?!”
“Oopsie,” Narcissa murmurs, and with a swish of her wand, Regulus feels the charm lift. “Was honestly surprised it lasted this long.”
“I TRULY CANNOT BELIEVE YOU WOULD... YOU WOULD BELLA HIM LIKE THAT!”
Regulus clears his throat. “B-Bella him?”
All three of his family members stare at him oddly.
Andromeda puts it together first. “I did not realize you avoided Bella’s love of casting silencing charms on anyone who ‘got on her nerves’.”
“Or simply because she could,” Narcissa huffs. “Finite Incantatem was the only nonverbal wandless spell I could perform before entering Hogwarts, and even then, it was only to lift a silencing spell off of me.” Whelp, that's still more than I can perform now. "Salazar, you really are the favorite, huh?"
Plopping down next to him, Sirius slings an arm over Regulus's shoulders. “The baby rarely talked unless spoken to for… oh, a solid eleven years I’d say, so that certainly helped.”
“Anytime I said something that annoyed her,” the younger mutters, slowly beginning to understand the magnitude of his brother's care for him, “you immediately took the spotlight off of me.”
“‘Course I did, I had to!” Sirius chuckles good-naturedly. “No one would have known if you had a Silencio on you for weeks if she got you when I wasn’t looking!”
Notes:
Eeeek, Sirius finally knows, yay! This chapter was more on the talking side, but I promise it picks up after this...
*evil laughter*
Chapter 26: New Mates and Old Enemies
Notes:
It feels fitting that this particular chapter brings us over the 200k mark
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The morning after their disastrous detention, Sirius refuses to vacate the dormitory. Regulus’s logical arguments regarding how imperative it is for him to attend his classes go ignored (‘He’ll think you’re weak, brother, do you want him to -’ ‘I AM weak, Reggie, okay?! Just leave me alone to die in peace!’). Evan bravely recruits their cousins for backup, but not even Narcissa and Andromeda’s… er… encouragement can sway him to change course. In the end, it’s Barty who succeeds with a genuine, ‘Mate, you’re way too fit to stay hidden away like a hoard of dragon treasure. I dunno what all you’ve got going on, but what I do know is that you can’t allow some ponce to mug you off… you’re Sirius fucking Black, yeah? Fuck that and fuck them!’
Unfortunately, as soon as the wall leading to the Slytherin Common Room closes behind them, Regulus can tell by the way Sirius freezes that his anxiety is spiking again.
‘Kitchens?’ the younger asks, secretly crossing his fingers that his brother will agree (which he does, thank Merlin).
Because dining with the house elves means Regulus can avoid a different Gryffindor fifth-year, one he prefers not to see until he gets his thoughts in order... and Salazar only knows how long that'll take! Narcissa, Andromeda, and Sirius’s support is nice, Regulus can admit, but it doesn’t change much; the rest of their family, including those who hold the power to significantly alter the path of his life, aren't going to be so open-minded about Regulus’s choices as of late.
It can never be said that house elves aren’t perceptive creatures, though. Pipsy ladens their table with Regulus's favorite breakfast foods, even going so far as to brew his favorite Grecian coffee - a rare treat she’ll whip up whenever he’s had a particularly unfortunate day - without being asked. Tibby, the young elf who helped Sirius ‘spruce up’ the other morning, takes it upon herself to shower the Black heir with compliments, gushing about his glossy hair, glowing skin, and significantly smaller pores. By the end of their meal, Sirius has a pip back in his step, and he leaves for class with his chin held high.
The first lesson of the day passes without incident. It’s on the way to Transfiguration, when Regulus's guard is lowered after deciding to take an alternate, scenic route to the classroom, that he's ambushed.
“Hey, Reg.” Falling into step with him, Potter tucks a folded piece of parchment into his robe. “Fancy running into you here.”
“Did you ditch my brother?” Regulus counters, hoping the older teen can’t tell how badly he startled him, does Potter have the same built-in Regulus-detector that Sirius has, what the fuck?! “Don’t think he’s going to appreciate that.”
Potter scoffs. “Your brother ditched me, actually. Was a no-show at breakfast, arrived for our first lesson seconds before it started, sat in the front row,” his lip curls in distaste, as if Sirius committed an egregious sin by choosing such a seat, “and then before the dismissal bell had finished ringing, he ran off with Marlene… is everything alright?”
Such broad, unspecific questions should be illegal, in Regulus’s personal opinion. However, rather than wasting time asking clarifying questions, he provides Potter the information he’s so obviously fishing for.
“I told my brother the truth last night. All of it.” The boy beside him doesn’t react, doesn’t even look at Regulus, which rightfully, irks him to no end. “Hello?? Potter, did you hear me?”
Rude as ever, Mr. Popular is too busy greeting a group of older Ravenclaws to respond. Whenever the Gryffindor can't see them, the three girls and two blokes turn up their noses at the Slytherin, having the gall to act like Regulus is beneath them. But oh, it's undeniably satisfying to see their expressions darken with envy when Potter puts an arm around Regulus's shoulders to lead him away (he'd become too absorbed in a staredown with Sirius’s ‘ex-girlfriend’ to notice Potter was ready to go). Sneaking a look behind him, he lets the triumphant smirk bloom across his face when he finds their gazes still locked on the two of them.
“I did hear you,” the Chaser finally responds, heading towards the Transfiguration classroom, though Regulus never once mentioned what his next lesson is…
“And?” Regulus growls irritably, shaking Potter's arm off of him.
There's another brief delay as Potter high-fives some miscellaneous Hufflepuff they're passing, dear Merlin, does he know everyone in this bloody castle?! “And I’m not overly surprised by this news, given the way Sirius glared daggers at me throughout our first lesson. Really gave meaning to the expression, ‘if looks could kill’, ya know?”
If anyone saw Regulus’s fond eye roll - no they didn’t.
“Dramatic git, isn’t he?”
Hazel eyes dart nervously around the hall, as if Potter expects Sirius to pop out and shriek at him if he agrees. “An inherited trait, no doubt.”
… it probably is, so Regulus doesn’t bother arguing.
“Look, I’ll curse your bollocks off if you tell him I told you this, but Sirius isn't mad at you.” Wow, who knew James Potter could put so much sarcasm into one expression?! “Okay, FINE, he’s a little peeved, but surely you know by now how testy he gets when he believes that someone purposefully kept something from him, yeah?” After a second of hesitation, the Chaser nods. “So, his inner defense mechanism is to be dramatic and standoffish about it. Just approach him as soon as possible and beg for forgiveness."
"Perhaps a grand gesture -"
"No need to make a scene or anything!” Merlin, please do not make a scene. "Simply embrace your inner Drama King."
"But a grand gesture -"
Is a horrid, horrid idea!
"If you're feeling sprightly," Regulus continues stubbornly, "add in a few declarations of your 'eternal' friendship, but no matter what, don't forget to shower him in compliments. Do this, and you’ll win my brother over in a jiffy, I promise.”
The older boy smirks. “Fine, fine, I think I can do that. But what about you?”
Biting back his initial, suspicious remark, ‘What have you done that you think I’d be pissed about?’, Regulus settles on, “I’m not mad at you. Why would I be?” There, compromise, he’s so good at that lately!
“I meant is everything alright with you?”
“My hand is fine.” Regulus shows him his wound-free palms as proof. “Thank you for asking.”
“Gah! No, that’s not… “ Potter guides him into an alcove they were about to pass, a stone's throw away from the Transfiguration classroom Regulus is supposed to be in soon. He then casts a muffling spell around them. “Is Sirius mad at you?”
Regulus blinks, not expecting such a question. “Evidently not.”
He waits for the inevitable, ‘I told you so’, but it doesn’t come.
Instead, the Gryffindor asks, “And your cousins?”
Suspicion begins to creep up Regulus’s spine. “Why would they be mad at me?”
Carding his fingers through his perpetually messy hair, Potter looks everywhere but at the boy in front of him. “Dunno. You spent… spend a lot of time with them, don’t you?”
“So?”
“So, they’re also close with Slughorn, yeah? His top prefects, he brags about them all the time.”
“So?”
“So!” Potter echoes, his next words coming out in a rush. “By now they’re bound to have heard about us… which I’m sure they have strong opinions about for a multitude of reasons, including how I’m a Gryffindor, a wee bit of a troublemaker, not from old money, a blood traitor, and uhm ya know, I’m a bloke -”
Borrowing an expression he learned from Lily, Regulus gasps, “Oh my god, are you really?!”
“Ha ha."
"I had no idea!"
"You’re so funny.”
“I know, right?” the Slytherin says with a straight face. “Thanks for noticing.”
“Regulus,” Potter whines, which is not endearing, not in the slightest.
"Potter," the Slytherin mimics, biting the insides of his cheeks to keep from grinning.
Readjusting so he can lean against the wall of the alcove, Potter crosses his arms over his chest and pouts. “I’m being… genuine, I’m being genuine about this, so please stop teasing.”
Standing directly in front of Potter means putting his back to the nearly-empty corridor, something Regulus normally avoids at all costs; it’s a shock to realize he implicitly trusts James Potter to watch out for him.
“You worry too much,” Regulus murmurs, briefly squeezing the older boy’s hand. “And this is coming from me, a professional worrier.”
Potter’s lips quirk up in the corners. “Also genetic, methinks.”
Mmm... doubtful.
“After we parted ways last night, Slughorn filled my cousins in on everything that happened. But they’re exceptionally smart... which is genetic, I’ll have you know… and they’d already worked out most of it for themselves.” Regulus shrugs. “Cissa and Andie being privy to my sexuality surely didn’t do us any favors, but I’m optimistic, for once in my life, that the rest of the student body remains ignorant to our...” his hand makes a spastic move, "entanglement."
“P - pardon?!” Potter stammers out, a deep flush visible under his tanned skin.
…
Wait.
Waitwaitwait.
Oh fuck.
Sweet Merlin, fuck.
Should he have said that?
He shouldn’t have said that, should he?
No, you absolute idiot, why would you ever hint at that?! his inner voice cries. You just gave him enough blackmail material for a century, hand delivered on a silver platter and everything!
It’s gotta be bloody obvious by now, considering how many times we’ve snogged, right?! Regulus argues with himself.
Then why does he look like someone ripped his broom out from under him and started beating him over the head with it?
Regulus doesn’t have an answer for that.
“Um, I think… think I misheard you, heh.”
Something fierce and volatile burns through Regulus’s self-doubt.
“You heard me just fine, you fucking arsehole! I’m gay, and if you have a bloody problem with that, then you can go fuck yourself, because your opinion means nothing to me, you worth-”
“WHOA, WHOA, WHOA!” A hand suddenly covers Regulus’s mouth, preventing him from finishing his threat. “Why do you Blacks always think I’m homophobic?” The appendage is removed before he can sink his teeth into the flesh in revenge. Pity. “I am not homophobic, just to be clear!”
Oops.
Professor McGonagall, bless her, saves Regulus from further embarrassment… in a sense.
“Gentleman.” Under her stern gaze, Potter removes the muffling charm from around them with a sheepish grin. “While I'm sure Mr. Black appreciates your chivalrous escort to my classroom, Mr. Potter, I fear you are about to be late to your next class.” She makes a shooing motion. “Now, hurry off to wherever you’re meant to be, please. You know I’m not opposed to taking points from my own house if needed.”
“Right you are, Professor.” He claps Regulus amicably on the back. “Well, this has been, uhh… a fantastic talk! I’ll err, catch ya later, mate.” Potter hightails it down the hallway without a look behind him, leaving Regulus rooted to the floor.
… mate?!
Once the Gryffindor is out of earshot, the Transfiguration Professor clicks her tongue. “I’ve worked with teenagers for a long time, Mr. Black… best not to think too deeply on that one. It’ll do you no good to try and find a lick of logic when there’s none to be had.”
Later that afternoon, in a bid to put that mortifying interaction out of his mind, Regulus fully absorbs himself in his Care of Magical Creatures assignment, oblivious to the world around him. They were instructed to draw an underwater creature, and after careful observation, add annotations in the margins regarding behaviors and mannerisms they observed. Regulus chose the Merpeople, though based on snippets of conversations he’s overheard, a majority of his peers are working together on a graphic depiction of the Giant Squid 'waging war' against a school of Grindylows (Professor Kettleburn advised against utilizing artistic interpretation and creative licensing for this particular assignment, but most of his classmates threw his warnings out of the metaphorical window when they spotted the legendary creature swimming below them... though to be fair, it's the annotations in the margins that will make up a majority of their grade, so they could still potentially receive a passing score).
To make this project possible, Professor Kettleburn transfigured a chunk of wood into a pier. It stretches across the Black Lake, from one end to the other. The usually murky water is charmed crystal clear, and another spell has been added that Regulus isn’t familiar with; they weren’t asked to bring their telescopes, yet he's spent half of the lesson observing a younger Merperson sharpening his spear like they're an arm’s length apart from each other.
Regulus intentionally situated himself as far away from his classmates as possible, closer to the Forbidden Forest than the castle. It was difficult enough finding the wherewithal to walk across the pier to begin with, the journey worsened by snippets of never-forgotten nightmares flashing through his mind; he absolutely refused to subject himself to the jostling of his peers in their attempts to get a better view of the creatures below. Worse, Evan and Barty aren't in this class with him, so Regulus has no one to distract him from his maudlin thoughts.
He’s loath to admit it, but knowing his older brother is nearby has provided a degree of comfort.
Earlier on his way to class, Regulus was shocked to see Potter and Sirius lounging together under a tree, chatting quietly like they hadn’t a care in the world. An hour prior, while they were eating lunch in the Great Hall, Regulus had offhandedly mentioned that Potter was under the impression Sirius was ignoring him; his brother's responding look of triumph left him with a foreboding sense that he overlooked something glaringly obvious. Before he could probe for more information, Potter appeared directly behind them, asking to speak with Sirius alone. The request was granted with only minimal huffing and eye rolling, at least compared to the Gryffindor-Black's usual standards... and Regulus's presence went completely unacknowledged. Which was fine, perfectly fine.
Since Regulus was raised with manners, he politely said hello to both Gryffindors. He hadn't bothered asking if Sirius purposefully decided to sit under the tree closest to where the Care of Magical Creatures students were gathering, well aware he wouldn’t receive a straight answer no matter how cleverly he worded his question. Perhaps it was merely a coincidence. Then, as if their earlier humiliating interaction had already faded from his mind (Regulus wished he could be so lucky), Potter attempted to strike up a conversation with him, to which Regulus immediately shut down with a petty, but well deserved, ‘Sorry, mate, gotta run.' Sadly, his scorn didn’t seem to faze the Gryffindor… Potter’s airy laugh followed him all the way to where Professor Kettleburn was waiting.
By now, one would think Regulus intelligent enough to ignore the voice in the back of his head, the one that whispers, 'this is perfect, you should work in this spot, good things will come from it if you do'. He’s heard it a few other times in his life, though he doesn't remember much of the situations... except for this summer, since following its instructions led him to nearly dying, twice! ('You already cast a detection spell, you just forgot because you've been doing them so often'... 'That's a pretty watch, you should try it on, I bet it'll look great on you.')
But as it stands, Regulus is evidently not as bright as he once thought, because it’s almost comical how startled he is when a painfully familiar voice hisses out, “What a nice day for a swim, don’t you think, Black?... Oh that’s right, you can’t swim, what a shame.”
You see, Professor Kettleburn had prepared well for this particular assignment; he constructed the pier, charmed the water, even took the time to teach his students a handy little spell to make their parchment waterproof. What he didn’t consider, however, or didn't think would be an issue was this - how students outside of his class would eagerly flock to the newly built shortcut, using it to save themselves precious time crossing from one end of the lake to the other. And for some unknown reason, Regulus hadn't considered it either. Because while he doesn’t have any enemies in this class (at least that he’s aware of), there are a few upper years who really don’t appreciate him for whatever reason, be it his surname, how he’s the younger brother of a notorious prankster, who he is as a person...
Before Regulus can react, there's large hands on his back, roughly shoving him forward. The water comes closer, closer, closer. His body makes a quiet splash when it hits the surface, and within seconds, he’s almost completely submerged. Thrashing to stay afloat, Regulus tries to grab his wand, reach for the pier, shout for help, anything, but the water is relentless, purposeful, and his panic is insurmountable. Desperately, he attempts to suck a breath of air in, but the action only allows water entry into his lungs, the fluid burning its way through his body. The irony isn’t lost on him - even the worst of his nightmares never came anywhere close to being as painful as this.
Then, exactly as he’s feared for all of these years, he’s sinking lower and lower into the depths of the abyss, his heavy robes anchoring him to the fate he surmised long ago he’d never escape. Accepting that this is the end, Regulus shuts his eyes, at least Sirius and I finally made our peace... suppose it's rather pathetic that my dying wish is for my brother and Mother to get along at my funeral, a funeral that I hope they'll let our house elf attend...
(He’s not foolish enough to wish for anything more substantial.)
Compared with returning to the light, sinking into the darkness is pure bliss.
The next thing Regulus knows, his senses are igniting, tendrils of life licking every nerve in his body. It’s tentative at first, slow, bit by bit... until all of a sudden, he feels like he was set alight by dragon flame, then tossed into the lake to be battered around by the Giant Squid. There’s a cacophony of voices, so many voices, a weight on his chest, pushing pushing pushing. Someone pleads for him to wake up, I am awake, Regulus wants to say, I just can’t open my eyes. He feels a pressure on his lips, and air is blown into his water-laden lungs, leading to a surge of something, magic perhaps, going through him, jolting him up into a sitting position. Eyes flying open, Regulus leans over to cough up half the lake onto the wooden pier, mumbling out an apology when he almost spits up on Remus Lupin of all people.
“What were you bloody thinking, being so close to the water like that?!” Sirius’s shrill voice cuts through the noise Regulus is 86% sure is only in his head. “You know you can’t swim, how could you be so irresponsible after everything that’s happened recently?!”
("I bet your brother went to Gryffindor solely to get away from you.")
After hacking up another lungful worth of water, Regulus tries to stammer out, “I didn’t mean to -”
“Let me guess,” his brother growls, sitting on his knees, opposite Lupin, “this is your way of punishing me for that tactless joke yesterday, isn’t it?”
("He knew a weak ole thing like you would never be a lion... personally, I was surprised you weren't a hatstall.")
“Mate,” Potter gently chides from behind the Slytherin… guess that explains the unseen hand rubbing his back. “Come on, I’m sure Reg didn’t do it on purpose, that'd be barmy!”
Sirius ignores his friend. “Taking a leaf from dear Mummy’s favorite book, are you? You know what sort of crazy shite she does to spite Father!”
("If you haven't realized it by now, let me enlighten you... you don't belong here, Black. Nobody likes you, nobody wants you around, you should just do everyone a favor and drop dead.")
Regulus cringes, another apology and a denial on the tip of his tongue… he doesn’t get a chance to speak either. Without warning, his brother throws his arms around him, and Regulus is suddenly the one comforting Sirius as the older boy delves into gut-wrenching sobs. If Regulus thought yesterday’s crying session was bad, then this one is abominable, appalling, quite literally the most dreadful thing he has ever experienced so far, all of his near-death experiences included.
“Alright, Sirius, let him breathe for a moment, yeah?” Lupin’s soft voice murmurs minutes later, and Regulus blinks, belatedly realizing he’s not the only one dripping wet.
("Salazar, I almost feel bad for your family, being related to someone as worthless as you.")
“M’sorry, Siri,” he whispers meekly, riddled with guilt. Will he ever stop being an inconvenience to everyone around him? “I love you, it was never my intention to cause you pain. I swear, brother, I didn't mean to fall into the water, it was an accident.”
Sirius tears himself out of Regulus’s grip, expression unreadable. “What did you say?”
"I didn't mean -"
"Not that."
“... are you really going to make me say it again?”
“Yes.”
Ugh, figures.
But Sirius is not the only stubborn, prideful one among them.
“I love you, big brother.”
("You're going to die alone, Black, you know that, right?")
A joke, that’s what Regulus expected. Or a smile, at the very least. But Sirius’s lip quivers, his eyes watering, and Regulus starts to panic, because he didn’t mean to make his brother cry, again, what the fuck!
He’s forcibly returned to Sirius’s crushing embrace.
“I… l-love… I love you too, Reg, so much. You don’t… deserve t-this… so bloody unfair… how could anyone think… unworthy, never, never, never… I wish I could… it's not fair, it's not... but I love you, baby brother, always.”
Whilst Regulus is focused on rapidly blinking lake water out of his eyes, Potter shifts into his blurred line of sight. “Alright, Reg? Gave us quite a scare.”
("Who would ever want to be with someone as hideous as you?")
“Not the time to be petty!” the older Black hisses into the younger’s ear, and Regulus closes his mouth with a huff. So, his brother is back on his high horse now, is that it? Pettiness runs through Sirius’s veins, he said so himself!
“I’m fine,” Regulus responds automatically. A lie obviously… owing a life-debt to his brother’s future boyfriend? How dreadful! “Nothing like a good brush with death to brighten one’s day. Bit used to it, truthfully.”
Sirius’s eyes narrow, and when his skin flushes an angry red, Regulus groans aloud, sensing the incoming lecture.
But Potter rushes to speak before Sirius can gather his thoughts. “Well... um, I’m sure we can agree it was a good thing that Remus was sitting close enough and knew what to do.”
("Your brother's a blood traitor, yet your parents still prefer him over you, pathetic as you are... ooh, I'm right, aren't I? What's wrong, little Black? Does the truth hurt?")
Potter nods towards Forbidden Forest, and Regulus vaguely recalls seeing Lupin on the outskirts of the boundary line, reading a book under a tree. He figured it was the only reason Sirius felt comfortable being so out in the open - he knew exactly where the object of his avoidance was, and thus could get a good head start if he needed to flee.
“Oh, and Professor Kettleburn insists you make a visit to the Hospital Wing," the Chaser adds with a wince. Peering around his brother, Regulus finds his teacher already looking at him... along with everyone in his class, ugh. Possibly sensing his unease, Professor Kettleburn shepherds his students off the pier, dismissing their class early. "At least that means you get to miss the last lesson of the day too?”
“Joy,” the Slytherin deadpans, and Sirius laughs wetly… until he remembers he’s angry, and his scowl returns. Taking a deep breath, Regulus turns in the general direction of his rescuer. “Thank you for saving my life, Lupin. I owe you a life-debt.”
“Ah, no you don’t, I had help,” Lupin murmurs, jerking his head to the left. At first, Regulus doesn’t understand what he’s referring to... until the Merperson he was sketching for his assignment peeks over the side of the pier, his eyes wide. “He fought off the grindylows trying to pull you under.”
Every single word that comes out of the scarred Gryffindor's mouth sounds massively uncomfortable. Normally, Regulus would take that personally. But in this instance, it likely can be attributed to how Sirius is staring fixedly at him, as if Lupin hung the moon, the stars, and plays in one of those Muggle rock bands he’s obsessed with.
("Do I frighten you, Black? Is that why you stick close to Fawley in the locker room? Or is it because you're hoping to catch a peek while he's changing, like the disgusting freak everyone knows you are?")
Crawling towards the edge of the pier (a difficult task with Sirius’s hands wound so tightly in the fabric of his robes), Regulus thanks his second rescuer. Does the creature understand what he’s saying? Not likely, but expressing his gratitude is the least Regulus can do. With a tiny shrug, the Merperson hesitantly extends his hand, and when Regulus looks down, he's surprised to find the almost finished drawing he was working on.
Glancing at the parchment and then back to the shy, rather handsome creature in front of him, those glowing yellow eyes, why do they seem so familiar?, Regulus makes a split-second decision. “You can keep it, if you want. It should survive underwater because it’s charmed, and I was pretty much done anyway.” It takes some awkward pointing and gesturing, but eventually, he gets his point across.
“House elves not enough for you, huh?” Sirius teases when the Merperson swims away, the parchment held delicately in its webbed hand like it was something precious, rather than a school assignment he’d only worked on for less than an hour. Regulus feels an odd sense of guilt at that. “Is it your life goal to befriend every magical being?”
("Your 'friends' only hang around because your parents pay them to play nice with their loser son.")
“So, what if it is, brother?”
It's not like he fits in with other witches and wizards.
When Regulus can no longer hold back a hacking cough, Sirius's expression clouds, and then to his dismay, his brother finally releases the tirade he was holding in.
Shamelessly tuning the words out, Regulus entertains himself by trying to guess how high Sirius’s complexion will score on the Walburga-Black-Intensity-of-Rage scale. It’s a 1-10 numeric grading system the brothers invented years before Hogwarts, with a score of 1 being her customary level of anger, and a 10 meaning someone is definitely going to die by the end of the night. So far, Mother has only reached the top score once, but the kidnapper had it coming for daring to snatch Sirius in broad daylight. The bloke made it worse for himself by hiding his prize in Muggle London, one of the main reasons Uncle Gio’s werewolf pals successfully located him when the Black family magic couldn’t find a trace - they never thought to focus their locator spells in areas without a substantial magical presence. Being indebted to ‘abominations’ for the return of her eldest son made Mother apoplectic, and she hadn’t even known Sirius (somewhat) enjoyed the jaunt through Muggle London, a place they’d always seen outside their home, but were never allowed to venture into.
He guessed Sirius would land around a 4.5, but his high-achieving brother earns a solid 7 before they’re interrupted... also during the rant, Lupin sighs (5) times, while Potter wows with an astounding (4) hair ruffles, (6) comforting smiles, and (1) flirtatious wink that absolutely does not leave Regulus flustered.
“Travers pushed him,” a female voice cuts in, halting Sirius mid-rant. “I saw it.”
("Maybe I should do everyone a favor and remove you from this world myself, huh?")
Potter’s disposition suddenly becomes dour. “And you are?”
“An eye-witness, clearly,” Pandora snarks back.
“That’s Regulus’s other, other best friend, since he was an itty bitty first-year,” Sirius 'whispers’ to his mates. “Pandora of Ravenclaw.” He gives her an approving nod. “We like her.”
Pursing his lips, the Chaser mutters, “Mmm… right."
Elegantly lowering herself to the ground, Pandora almost sits in Potter's lap, until he scoots away from Regulus at the last possible moment. “Are you alright, Reg?” Her eyes are sparkling despite the concern in her voice, leaving him with the faint sense she’s up to something. “You appear to be suffering from an infestation of Wrackspurts.”
("Think that stunt at tryouts was funny, do you?! You better watch yourself, Black! The moment I see an opportunity, I'm taking it, and there's nothing you can do to stop me!")
Deciding it’s best not to ask, Regulus also pretends like he doesn't see Sirius’s face turning ashen at her words. “I’m alright, Pandora, thank you for your inquiry.”
“How do we get rid of the Wrackspurts, Pandora?!" Sirius cries, grabbing her hand. "Reg has enough issues, he doesn’t need an infestation of anything!”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You don’t,” Potter scoffs, crossing his biceps arms over his chest. “They don’t exist, Sirius. She’s leading you on because you’re gullible, and everyone knows it.”
“I am not -"
“Excuse me… Pandora, is it?” Lupin inquires politely, regaining control of the conversation, bless. “You’re sure Regulus was pushed?” She nods solemnly. “We should report this to the Headmaster, immediately.”
("How long do you think it would take for someone to notice you're gone? Weeks, is my guess. Maybe months.")
Regulus scowls at his friend for her intervention. He fully intended to let Sirius live his life believing the incident was an accident caused by Regulus himself, no matter how many rants about death wishes and personal safety lectures he would endure as a result.
“That’s attempted murder!” Sirius growls, scanning the opposite end of the lake for the boy he must have passed after Regulus fell. “But Dumbledore won’t do shit, he’ll say there’s no proof.”
Standing rigidly at Sirius’s side, Potter places a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, mate, we’ll get him back, I swear it.”
“Do not attempt revenge, brother!” An uncomfortable feeling prickles along the back of Regulus's neck. “We… we can go the official route, if it’s so important to you.”
("I'd surely get an Order of Merlin for doing the community a favor. One less worthless wizard clogging up the streets, that's what they'd say.")
Regulus's nightmares aren’t always filled with him drowning (he has a lot of bad dreams, actually, many of them recurring).
The second most common one... he sees Sirius as an inmate in the wizard prison, Azkaban, teetering on the brink of madness. Waxy skin, an emaciated frame, matted hair, and yellow teeth, the Dementors’ influence riddles him down to nothing more than a walking corpse. For all his mood swings, Regulus doesn’t think his brother, someone so bright and full of life, would survive very long in a place designed to suck out its inhabitants' happiest memories.
Prior to this afternoon, Regulus always believed his nightmares were nothing more than his overactive imagination.
But now?
Now, he thinks there's a more sinister explanation.
What if... what if he is the reason these bad things are happening, either by dreaming them into reality, or because he’s warned about horrible events, yet does nothing to stop them from occurring? What if... what if Regulus really is the root of everyone's suffering?
What if...
Maybe
This whole time...
Travers has been right.
Regulus really is the problem.
Because intentional or not, his nightmares now seem inevitable.
“If it’s important to me?” Sirius echoes incredulously. “Someone tried to kill my little brother, of course revenge is important to me! Is it not important to you?”
“He shoved me on purpose, yes, but there’s no way he knew I couldn’t swim." Stupid, stupid Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson on boggarts. "How could he? It was an accident.”
("Heard a little rumor you couldn't swim, Black. Aw, don't fight back, you know it'll be worse if you do. I'm just trying to help you learn how to hold your breath for longer, that's all. I'm sure you'll thank me later... and if not, oh well.")
A beat of silence passes, then two, then three. Right as Regulus thinks he’s done it, passed a lie off as the truth, Sirius angrily shakes his head. “Bollocks. Learn to lie better, little brother.”
Panic swells up inside him, Sirius is going to ruin his life, all because of me, he can't, he can't, he can't.
Grabbing his brother’s hands, his next words take on a pleading quality Regulus is too overwhelmed to be embarrassed about. “Sirius Orion Black the third, swear to me that you won’t personally seek revenge in my name, that you’ll allow this to go through the proper official channels, that you won’t do something to Travers in retaliation. Swear, Sirius, swear on your beauty, your brains, your riches, your precious little friend group.” Sirius bristles, undoubtedly affronted by the request, but Regulus would literally rather die than let his brother throw away his life for someone something so insignificant. “Please, Siri, I beg you… let it go.”
Of course, he’s well aware how many loopholes he left open, something his brother evidently picks up on, if the unsubtle glances he shares with Potter are anything to go by. Which is fine by him! Regulus doesn’t give a damn about Larson Travers… in fact, he hopes the bastard dies a slow, painful, torturous death. His concern centers around Sirius’s vicious vindictive streak, his penchant for cruelty when it so suits him, and his general inability to let things go. And if Potter ends up in prison, then that’s not Regulus’s problem, now, is it? He’ll be sure to write, once or twice.
Ugh, who is he kidding?
Potter better not end up in prison either, if he knows what's good for him.
“I swear on everything you just listed, I won’t personally do anything to Travers in retaliation for this offense,” Sirius grits out in a manner that suggests it causes him immense agony to promise what Regulus is asking.
("If you EVER tell someone about our... lessons... it'll be the last thing you do, Black. No one can protect you, no one can save you. Why would they waste their time? You do not matter.")
A splash to their right draws their attention. The same Merperson from before lifts himself partially out of the water. Then, to their immense confusion, he places a large object onto the pier... which turns out to be an intricately crafted trident. Between the golden metal and the sapphire and emerald gems in the prongs, it gleams brilliantly in the afternoon sunlight. But none of them move, so the Merperson screeches out something that leaves them holding their ears.
“The trident is a gift,” Pandora explains, the only one unaffected by the shrill sound. She delicately picks it up. “For Regulus, to protect himself against his enemies.”
“Ooh, shiny!” Previous frustration forgotten, Sirius snatches it out of her hands, beaming like Christmas came early. “Reg will use it well… and if he doesn’t, I surely will.”
Forever the youngest, Regulus scoffs, “It’s mine, get your own!” Despite his words, he doesn't attempt to take it from his brother. It's not worth the drama.
"What's yours is mine, and what's mine is only mine," Sirius hums, ignoring his sibling's indignant hiss.
“You speak Mermish?” Potter asks the Ravenclaw in disbelief.
“What, like it’s hard?”
("You deserve to be treated like this, you know that right, little Black?")
Biting back his smile at how dazed her flippant response leaves the three Gryffindors, Regulus asks, “Can you tell him ‘thank you’ for me, please? I want to ensure he understands my gratitude for both the gift and helping Lupin when I fell -”
"When you were pushed," Potter corrects, gazing challengingly at him.
Regulus stares unblinkingly back. "When I fell into the water."
Her usually soft voice is raspy when she screeches back to the Merperson. While Potter and Regulus are engaged in their staredown (which the younger teen wins, of course), Pandora chats back and forth with the Merperson. After a short conversation, he swims away, but not before waving goodbye to Regulus (was the flex of his well-defined arms intentional or merely coincidence? Hard to say, but wow, it’s unseasonably warm today, how did Regulus not notice until now?)
“Seems like you have an admirer, love." Pandora teasingly boops him on the nose, why must people keep doing this to me?! And in front of Potter, no less? Furiously blinking his stinging eyes, a side effect of his victory over the older Gryffindor, it takes Regulus a moment too long to notice how intensely she's staring at him.
She knows, a panicked voice whispers in his head. She knows about... about him. And if she knows, then it's only a matter of time before she tells someone, Evan, Barty, maybe even Sirius, Narcissa, or Andromeda. They CANNOT find out, they can't, you know they can't, it's bad enough they know about what happened this afternoon, if they find out the full extent, it's going to get worse, so much worse, he'll never leave you alone -
But how? Regulus internally argues with himself. How could she, how could he -
It's his own reflection in the water that provides the answer.
The windows looking out into the lake.
Glowing yellow eyes, so familiar.
He saw.
Not everything, he couldn't have, the windows are only in the Slytherin Dungeons. But the Merperson who saved his life, he saw enough to conclude that Regulus has... has enemies.
A rather apt description for it, too.
"And based on the gems in that trident," Pandora continues, finally looking away, "I’d wager he’s royalty.”
“He looks royal!” the Black heir gushes, admiring his own reflection in the polished metal. It's a small mercy that he was too engrossed with his task to witness the unusual exchange between the younger teens.
Under his breath, Potter grumbles, “a royal prick”, earning himself a disapproving look from Lupin.
("If you weren't so weak, little Black, maybe things would be different.")
“And he is… royal, that is.” Holding the trident horizontally with both hands, Sirius ceremoniously offers it to Regulus. “Based on how gorgeous he is, he obviously wasn’t born in this lake. Otherwise, he’d have gray skin and green hair like the others. The alternating blue and silver scales of his tail indicate he’s from an Atlantic colony, while the tattoo on his bicep of an Ammonite Shell signifies his status as an offspring of a Merchief. Since he’s here, he’s likely far down in the line of succession, probably sent away to apprentice with another colony. Eventually, he’ll return home to act as an advisor to his older sibling, whenever they become Chief.” Noticing three shocked stares directed his way (not from Regulus, of course, he’s always known his brother was a giant nerd), Sirius haughtily lifts his chin. “What? I read.”
“It’s an impressive gift, but Regulus won’t be able to carry a trident around,” Lupin cautiously remarks. “I think even Slughorn would have a few issues with that.”
“He can too!”
Without preamble, Sirius shoves his hand into the pocket of Potter's robe and starts rummaging around... something that doesn't faze the other two Gryffindors in the slightest... and reemerges with a Self-Inking Quill.
"Hold your arm out, if you'd be so kind." Warily, Regulus does as he's told, and Sirius quickly sketches an outline of a trident on the pale skin of his left inner forearm. "Couple magic words and you, my sweet summer child, will have the coolest, most practical tattoo. Just say a few more magic words, and then your trident is in your hands whenever you require it."
Uhh, but when would he ever require a trident?
Wait, FUCK, is it magical? Did he really just trade a mediocre drawing for a legitimate magical item?... if so, not a good start to this newfound friendship. Holding it in his hands, Regulus thinks he can feel a thrum of energy, but perhaps that's just wishful thinking? Whatever the case, he's definitely long overdue for a proper trip to the library.
("I bet your brother could protect himself... blimey, even a Squib wouldn't be as defenseless as you!")
Regulus gapes at his brother. “You can't be seri-" nope, not going there, "Mother would have a hippogriff!”
“Relax, Reggie." Sirius frowns at his own blank arm. "The tattoo will only appear if you want it to. It’s magic, you see.”
“It’s magic, you see,” the Slytherin mocks to hide how relieved he is to hear that.
“Ah, but it would give you an enticing bad-boy vibe, if you showed it off while at school,” Pandora says with a wicked smirk. "And there's no rules against tattoos, as you already know." Thanks to the research they did while trying to convince Barty it was a terrible idea to get a giant kelpie tattoo on his back, she means. Fortunately, Evan was able to talk him out of it... for the time being.
Potter glares at her. “He can do whatever he wants with it, you shouldn't pressure him!”
Looking down at his arm in contemplation, Regulus no longer sees an outline of a trident. Slowly, the shape twists until it’s a thick, midnight black skull. A snake protrudes from its mouth, long and winding. The sight of it makes Regulus’s stomach roll. It emanates an aura that is pure evil, utterly vile, the worst sort of magic, reeking of death, destruction, terror, servitude -
“Regulus!” Sirius cries. “What are you -”
The Slytherin’s nails rake across his own forearm. “Get it off, get it off, GET IT OFF!”
("You make everyone's life worse, Black.")
Holding tightly to the younger's wrist, Potter doesn't let go when Regulus attempts to pull away. Sirius shakily points his wand at the mess of red and black that's become his brother's forearm, and after two muttered spells back-to-back, the pale skin returns to its original blank slate.
“Are you alright?” Lupin tentatively asks, the others gaping at him in horror.
Maybe I really am mad, Regulus thinks bitterly to himself, struggling to return his breathing to normal. What the fuck was that about?
Pandora, always his most perceptive friend, rescues him from having to answer. “Perhaps a ring, instead? Something you can remove whenever you want?” She raises an eyebrow at Sirius in challenge. "Assuming such a capability is within your wheelhouse?"
Sirius nods vigorously. "Oh, yes, much easier magic, piece of cake. I can make it silver too, Reggie, so it doesn't throw off your emo aesthetic."
“Yes, please,” Regulus whispers, too mortified to argue over the label his brother's wrongly bestowed upon him. “Thank you.”
Slipping the ring onto his finger when Sirius finishes, he gazes at it for an embarrassingly long time - it’s a relief when it does nothing.
Potter clears his throat. “Now, I believe Regulus is overdue for an appointment with Madam Pomfrey, so unfortunately, we must bid you good day, Paisley.”
‘Paisley’ doesn’t correct the obvious jibe, but instead presses a kiss to Regulus’s cheek with a giggle. “See you later, Reg. I’ll tell Evan, Barty, and your cousins the gory details, so you don’t have to. Love you!”
("Why do you even exist?")
Notes:
Ahhh, lots of drama happening in this chapter! And there will be a lot more in the ones to come.
Thank you to everyone who's left kudos/comments so far, I love reading your thoughts and theories <3
Also, I'm currently writing an enemies to friends (to eventual lovers, if there's a sequel) Jegulus fic w/ established Wolfstar called 'xoxo, Your Secret Admirer (PS: I really fucking hate you)' if you're interested in something a lil different than this. It has lots of Black brother feels, sassy Reg, and I swear, James has a solid reason for acting a mess (though it won't be revealed for a bit) :)
Chapter 27: A Marauder's Plot
Notes:
To everyone who has been secretly (or not-so-secretly) salty about Remus's behavior in the beginning of the fic - this chapter is for you!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Thankfully, Potter’s peeved mood evaporates after 'Paisley' prances off.
Although...
As awful as it is to say, Regulus nearly fainting the moment he tried to stand upright probably had a huge impact on that improvement too - because nothing brightens James Potter's day quite like someone activating his Savior Complex. Sweet Merlin, Regulus is so tempted to chuck himself back into the lake if this is what his life is going to be like from now on; after accepting the Gryffindor's hand to help him to his feet, black spots had dotted his vision, and then Regulus, quite literally mind you, swayed into Potter’s muscular arms, like some sort of damsel in distress. Then, if that wasn't mortifying enough, Potter carried him AGAIN to the Hospital Wing, with zero complaints from Sirius, the traitor.
When the quartet enters the ward, Madam Pomfrey chides, "It’s about time you lot showed up!" She shoos Regulus towards the bed furthest from the door, well aware of his preference after three brutal years playing Quidditch. Sliding off Potter's back, Regulus mumbles his thanks, unable to meet the Gryffindor's gaze. He's grateful for his brother's constant need to talk... and fuss... because it prevents Potter from getting a word in edgewise - he will seriously combust if this moment is ever brought up again.
Settled onto his cot, Regulus has already downed his first potion (to prevent possible scarring of his lungs), and is psyching himself up to consume the second (something about clearing his airways) when Sirius suddenly remembers he’s avoiding Lupin. Fortunately for him, the doors to the Hospital Wing fly open, and two witches stumble in, their cheeks flushed and hair askew like they ran here from a great distance.
Eyes briefly darting to Lupin, Sirius blurts, “Uhh... I'll head them off!” before all but sprinting across the Hospital Wing to meet the girls, dragging a protesting Potter with him.
To Regulus's chagrin, their cousins' words from last night flicker through his thoughts. Watching Sirius interact with Lupin this afternoon was eye-opening... and not in a good way. Seeing his usually sure-footed brother so insecure and unbalanced around his 'best mate' sent a wave of guilt rushing through him - the least Regulus can do is get to the bottom of this mystery boyfriend business, because he's positive there's something fishy going on. Once that part is figured out, he'll go from there, I can always send an owl to Aunt Cassi, she's an ace at wrecking relationships.
Of course, Regulus doesn't want his brother to leave, nothing has changed on that front. At the crux of it all, Sirius deserves better from Regulus. He has no right to be selfish with his brother's time and attention, not after everything Sirius has done for him.
With a sigh, they might be right, but I'll die before ever telling them so, Regulus sets to work; the next time Madam Pomfrey delivers him another foul tasting potion, he waves the Healer closer to whisper in her ear.
Regulus inclines his head towards the Gryffindor standing stiffly in front of his bed (who's shifting from foot to foot, like he’s not sure if he should stay or leave), tsk tsk, this is why we don't dawdle on making decisions, Remus Lupin! “Lupin was coughing on the walk through the castle. It sounded awful, really deep in his lungs, you know?”
“Oh my, it’s as I expected!” the Mediwitch exclaims, shaking her head. “Thank you for telling me, dear. So many students don't care for themselves properly, it's always good to look out for one another.” He nods solemnly. “Mister Lupin!” The boy in question jumps at suddenly being addressed, then whirls around with a contrite expression that instantly guarantees his protests will be for naught. “Get in that bed, you’re under observation… ah, you know better than to argue, young man. Do as I say, or you’ll be spending the night here!"
Shoulders sagging, Lupin crawls into the bed next to Regulus, recognizing a losing battle. After Madam Pomfrey ambles away, his new neighbor clears his throat; expecting something accusatory, Regulus has a multitude of denials on the tip of his tongue, but he's thunderstruck by the direction Lupin goes.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” the Gryffindor whispers, shooting a nervous glance towards the front of the Hospital Wing, where Sirius and Potter are in an animated discussion with Narcissa and Andromeda. “That's, ah... I'm sorry, but your brother... he must haven seen a picture with me and my mate from back home and got the wrong idea. Only, he won't come anywhere near me, so I can't clear the air. But if you could please tell him, I would be much obliged." Lupin lowers his gaze. “I haven't gotten a chance to talk to James since this morning, but uh... let's just say, I get the impression Sirius doesn't believe James."
"And you think Sirius would believe me, over Potter?" Regulus asks incredulously.
Lupin gives him a funny look. "Of course. He trusts you implicitly, at least in any matter that doesn't involve your own health and well-being.”
Regulus almost laughs (and elects to ignore Lupin's pointed stare, one that's eerily reminiscent of his brother's, 'You're not taking care of yourself, Reggie, you and I both damn well know it!' expression). Sirius ‘trusts’ him to tell the truth because he has some innate ability, perhaps because he's the eldest, to catch his younger sibling in every lie he’s even thought of attempting.
But then Regulus processes the rest of Lupin’s words... he blinks, then blinks again, his mind reeling with this information. So, the last two weeks have been nothing but a silly squabble and an epic misunderstanding? Leave it to Sirius to make such a mess of things!
Blimey, before he gets ahead of himself with plots and schemes, there’s still several vital issues to cover!
“Do you want a boyfriend?”
Lupin’s smile is disgustingly self-deprecating, blegh, he should have been a 'Puff. “I’m undeserving of the one I’d like to have.”
There might be a degree of truth to that...
"You'll never be able to 'fix' him," Regulus growls, remembering the fight that started all of this drama. "Because there's nothing wrong with him, I want to be very clear about that."
"Fix him?" Lupin echoes, sounding affronted.
"You might find compromise, and he'll get better about respecting boundaries if you communicate yours clearly and non-violently -"
"What would I even fix?! He's -"
"But he'll always be tidy and obsessed with organizing, you can't -"
"Perfect," the Gryffindor finishes.
Regulus scrunches his nose. "Well... I wouldn't go that far."
"I would," Lupin sighs dreamily.
With that, the Gryffindor turns away from him, wordlessly signaling the end of the conversation.
Not through conversing, Regulus is about to chuck a pillow at his cot-neighbor, when there’s a loud pop to his right.
“Pipsy?! What are you doing here?”
Her big green eyes fill with tears when she looks at him, but she maintains her composure. “Pipsy is h-hearing from Lila, who heard from Hopey, who was told by Filo that he saw Regulus Black being rushed to the Hospital Wing by his brother and his brother’s friends. And right after Lila told Pipsy that, Dollie popped into the kitchens, all in a tizzy -"
"Nothing new there," Regulus mutters, his smile widening at Pipsy's, "I know, right?' expression. Don't get him wrong, he adores Dollie, but she makes Sirius look calm and rational.
"Once Brolly calmed her down, she tells us how she overheard a witch say Regulus Black fell into the lake, and when he was pulled out, he wasn’t breathing! So, Pipsy volunteered to check on Regulus Black to make sure he’s alright, cuz all house elves care for the witches and wizards of Hogwarts, but Regulus Black is their favorite, not that they should be having favorites, but -”
Regulus’s heart does something funny in his chest at that, though it's also a painful reminder of how overlooked house elves are in the magical community. He's done nothing special to deserve their adoration, just acknowledged their presence and treated them like the intelligent creatures they are. The absolute bare minimum!
“Ah, Pipsy, you can see for yourself. I’m perfectly fine, though I thank you all for your concern. I'm really sorry for worrying everyone.”
Pipsy sniffs, her lip quivering. “Is Regulus Black willing to pinky promise that he’s alright? He is saying that pinky promises is the most sacred of all promises.” Silently, Regulus extends his pinky, and she completes the vow with a watery smile.
"You think if I pinky promise to stay out of the way, the others will let me kip in the kitchens for a bit?" Regulus asks, only partially joking. "My brother is going to be unbearable in the coming days."
"We elves is still finding it strange for Sirius Black to not be cleaning his room by himself." She lowers her voice. "It's been the talk of the kitchens for weeks! A few of us even suggested Brolly talk to the Headmaster, they was so worried! But Brolly said we were to mind our own business for now, that it would 'work itself out', whatever that means." Following her gaze, he finds his brother slowly walking towards them, still in deep conversation with their cousins.
And just like that, Regulus is struck with an ingenious idea.
“You remember that night last year when I couldn’t sleep, and you told me stories about your match-making efforts with some of the elves?” Pipsy nods eagerly, proud of her ‘sneaky’ accomplishments. “Are you willing to try your skills against two thickheaded wizards?”
“House elves is not to be meddling in the affairs of witches and wizards,” she responds dutifully, and Regulus internally sighs; he should have expected that. But then her smile becomes sly, and his hopes soar. “Unless another witch or wizard is asking them to help… and forgive Pipsy for saying, but Regulus Black is going to be needing a lot of help with those two wizards.”
They share an exasperated look, before turning their eyes back to the offending wizards in question.
It’s a daunting undertaking, but he’s gotta give the house elf credit; she’s exceptionally clever in her schemes.
Sirius is passing Lupin’s bed, eyes focused solely on Regulus, like the other Gryffindor doesn’t exist. Meanwhile, Lupin is seated at the end of his cot, feet planted on the ground as if he’s expecting to be released any moment, he's daft if he really believes Madam Pomfrey will let him go so easily (maybe he’s hoping to get Sirius’s attention… it’s hard to say, but Regulus has low expectations).
With no chance to prepare himself, the stones beneath Sirius's feet rise up and jerk to the left, sending him careening into Lupin. Fortunately for him, Remus Lupin has phenomenal reflexes, akin to a professional Quidditch athlete or a battled-trained Auror, how utterly suspicious. Leaping to his feet, Lupin catches Sirius before they can crash into each other.
“Oh my,” Sirius chokes out, their faces inches apart. Clutching tightly to Lupin’s upper arms, he's yet to back away. “What... erm, strong arms... you have." He nods. "Very nice."
A sound reminiscent of a centaur strangling a goose echoes throughout the Hospital Wing... it only lasts a split second, so Regulus can't tell if it's from Potter or Sirius himself. Either way, he almost drops his head into his hands in secondhand embarrassment, but he doesn’t want to risk missing anything.
“All the better to catch you with,” Lupin murmurs, green eyes never leaving Sirius’s face.
“Dear Merlin…” someone whispers, possibly Narcissa.
“Sappy,” another voice agrees
Kiss kiss kiss, Regulus chants in his head.
The room is suddenly filled with a romantic symphony, loud enough to be heard, yet soft enough not to startle.
Regulus and Pipsy hold hands, as Sirius leans forward, closer… closer… closer. He can hardly breathe while waiting for the inevitable kiss. But then something shifts in his brother's brain, and he’s suddenly jerking back, nearly falling over in his haste to put some distance between himself and Lupin.
It makes Regulus want to scream.
“Uh, sorry, that was…” Sirius has never looked so flustered in his life. But Regulus can't even enjoy it, because he's so bloody annoyed! “Godric, I’m s-sorry.”
Lupin nods, looking dejected but wholly unsurprised.
Sirius attempts to flee, yet… can’t. His shoes are stuck to the stone floor, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t free himself.
Catching Pipsy’s mischievous smile, Regulus realizes it’s up to him to do something.
Since he’s dealing with a bunch of Gryffindor’s, he throws all of his subtle, brilliant, and cunning plans aside. Instead, he embraces the more obvious, so clearly in-your-face schemes, Sirius can’t possibly muck this up.
“Sirius,” Regulus calls earnestly.
Attempting to untie his shoe, he waves his brother off. “Hold up, Reg." Every visible inch of Sirius's skin is beet red, which almost makes Regulus feel bad, but this is for your own good really, you just need to PAY ATTENTION to me. "Something wonky is going on.”
“Sirius!” he tries again.
Regulus manages to wordlessly convey to Potter… via a pointed scowl and a lot of eyebrow raising… to not help Sirius out.
“Just wait a second, Reg.”
Left with no other choice, Regulus allows the cough he’s been suppressing to rise from his chest; he almost smirks when he glances up to find Sirius motionless, his attention fully focused on his younger brother.
Good.
“Siri,” he rasps, widening his eyes just a tad to look more pathetic.
“Drink some water, Regulus, I’ll -”
“LUPIN DOESN’T HAVE A BOYFRIEND!” he shouts… not accidentally, of course, he meant to do that...
Head cocked to the side, Sirius huffs, “What are you going on about? Did Madam Pomfrey give you the wrong potion? You’re not making any sense.”
“Baby Black is right, Siri,” Potter insists, coming to sit on the edge of Regulus’s bed, nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with him. Narcissa and Andromeda are stuck, the same as Sirius, though they don’t seem fussed over it. “As I told you earlier. Repeatedly.”
Like he can't help himself, Sirius’s eyes flicker to Lupin, but then he plows on before the taller boy can get a word in. “If this is some sort of scheme you both have cooked up to distract from what’s going on between you two, I must say, I do NOT appreciate -”
He's starting to understand why Lupin sighs so often when dealing with his brother, blimey, is he frustrating!
“Lupin, your pal sitting right there, is single,” Regulus continues, content to interrupt before Sirius can work himself into a full blown rant. “He doesn’t have a boyfriend. You, Sirius, are also single, not talking to anyone, nor are you off gallivanting with girls every night.” His brother’s nose scrunches. “Or ever.”
Lupin’s head jerks up at that, his mouth falling open. “But… but your reputation, Sirius, for years…”
“Heh... about that. Have I ever told you outright I’d gotten with a bird? Have you ever seen me look at a girl?”
“Oh, erm, well I guess not.” Lupin trails off, no doubt wracking through his memories. “Marlene?”
Eloquent as ever, Sirius answers, “Marlene is… Marlene. She’s known I was gay from the moment I stepped off the train, apparently. Anyone else?”
“Eleanor?"
"Bloody hell, a mistake if there ever was one! A horrible, terrible, no good, very bad mistake." Sirius blanches. "Had a moment of delusion where I thought maybe I could be into girls if I found the right one. My reputation, it's uhh... it's all a lie. Literally, all of it."
"It was wrong of me to listen to the gossip," Lupin says, rubbing a hand over his face. "And I'm sorry for being too much of a twat to ask you about it all. But I confess, I'm rather... confused? About why there were so many persistent rumors to begin with?"
"Valid," Regulus mutters under his breath.
“I used the rumor mill to my favor, you see!" Sirius exclaims, perking up. "I was actually just helping the girls renovate their rooms. And lemme tell ya, we four really get on better than any other year-group. It never failed... each group had completely different tastes, ever-changing demands, and Merlin did they struggle to make a group decision, it was incredibly daunting at times. So, there was a new challenge in each room -”
Andromeda politely coughs, and Sirius slams his mouth shut, cheeks tinged pink.
House elves are persistent, though. When the two Gryffindors do nothing except stare at each other, Pipsy tries her luck again. The stones beneath Sirius's feet lift and then shake him off, sending him once more into Lupin’s open arms.
“Your brother is right, I don't have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. That picture you must have seen… just a mate.” Lupin gulps. “My heart has been set on one person since second year.”
“Ah…” Sirius murmurs with wide eyes. “Um… well, I hope it isn’t Evans.”
Lupin laughs quietly like they’re sharing an inside joke; next to the youngest Black, Potter exhales in a huff. “Would make things awkward, huh?” Sirius nods, and Regulus commends the taller boy for finding the courage his brother so clearly lacks. “It’s not Lily, it’s…" deep breath, “you.”
“Oh.”
Regulus is fairly certain Sirius is not going to say anything else, though they’ll never know for sure; Lupin starts speaking again, his voice holding an edge to it that wasn’t there before. “But I also have a confession to make, one that will eat away at me if I do not divulge it now.”
Stomach sinking at the words, Regulus crosses his fingers that it's something trivial, like Lupin invented an undetectable tracking charm, which he then placed on Sirius - it would explain how he always knew when they were headed to the Great Hall. Should Lupin's 'secret' be something else, Regulus fears that particular mystery will remain forever unsolved. And he hates not knowing things!
“Evidently, you have a terrible memory, Lupin. You already confessed, mere seconds ago,” Regulus quips, hoping to lighten the mood.
“It’s not that.”
“Well, come on, Remus." Leaning back as far as he can with his shoes stuck to the ground, Sirius crosses his arms over his chest, prepared for the ‘worst’... whatever that might be. "Don’t leave us hanging.”
“Good Godric, spit it out, Moony!” Potter cries when Lupin still doesn’t say anything, looking like he’s debating on getting up to throttle his friend.
Personally, Regulus feels as if he may perish from curiosity, but since he was raised well, he's able to maintain his poise in this unnecessarily stressful situation.
“I was never mad at you for cleaning the room or putting my stuff away.”
His brother blinks in confusion. “So, you were mad at me for something else?”
“The truth is, Sirius… I was never mad at you at all.”
Throwing his hands in the air, Potter would have smacked Regulus in the face, if his Seeker reflexes hadn't activated in the nick of time. “Sorry, Reg! But Remus, you’re gonna have to give us more than that… what’s this two-week long row been about if you weren’t peeved at Sirius?”
Lupin laces his fingers with Sirius’s, his expression earnest.
Siri is so embarrassing, he looks like he's about to faint now! Regulus laughs to himself, sharing an amused look with Narcissa.
“Do you remember the conversation we had the night before I went to the Hospital Wing?”
“What conversation?” Potter prods through clenched teeth.
Sirius glances over at his friend. “It was about Regulus and everything that happened over the summer -”
“Oh, so Remus got to hear about that, but not me?!” Potter snaps, nostrils flaring. “Interesting.”
Cautiously, Regulus entwines his fingers through Potter’s, using the pillow resting on his knees to hide it from the view of anyone else. Without looking away from his two best friends, the Gryffindor squeezes his hand; Regulus doesn’t take offense, though, because Potter seems less combative now, and he tightens his grip when the Slytherin moves to pull away.
“I woke up from a nightmare, if you must know!” Sirius counters heatedly, and Regulus quickly trades his giddy smile for his mask of neutrality, a much more appropriate look for the conversation at hand. “About Reg almost dying, AGAIN, and Remus was the only one awake at the time, so don’t get your knickers in a twist -”
Oh, he thinks, feeling dazed.
Regulus knew Sirius was upset when he was severely injured, but he didn’t realize his brother remained shaken over it, to the point where it impacted his dreams after they left Grimmauld Place. Sirius Black is generally an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ type person, and based on the time period his brother is referencing, it’d been over a month since Regulus’s last sashay with death.
If you were more careful, you wouldn't burden your brother like this, the snide voice in his head whispers.
“Moving on!” Andromeda interjects from across the room. “Please continue, Lupin.”
“Yes, um, so… it was obvious to me that you were missing your brother, and although I suggested you speak with him, you refused, saying you didn’t want to bother him -”
Regulus winces, knowing exactly why Sirius would have said that.
Potter looks like he just had an epiphany. “Oh! That’s why you became more and more waspish as the week went on… see, usually it’s the opposite once we get back to Hogwarts, so it was rather -”
Lupin hastily cuts Potter off, going on to explain that he realized something needed to be done - he couldn't, 'in good conscience', let Sirius continue to suffer needlessly. While recuperating in the Hospital Wing, he pondered over the issue, but hadn't settled on anything specific. However, when he entered their dorm and found it immaculate, he impulsively latched onto one of those hazy plots; Lupin claims he lost his cool and trashed their room in hopes that Sirius, who couldn’t function in a disarrayed space he wasn’t allowed to clean, would abscond to his brother’s room.
“Let me guess,” Narcissa hums, eyes narrowed to slits. “You realized how deranged and unhinged that was, and that’s why you’ve been hounding him for a week to talk to you?”
The taller Gryffindor bites his lip, something that still manages to capture Sirius’s attention, sigh. “Mmm, sort of. After the incident on Saturday with Regulus, I realized that my plan to help Sirius improve his relationship with his brother was inadvertently contributing to the deterioration of our friendship. I sought to find a balance between the two.” He meets Sirius’s gaze head on. “I missed my best friend, you see.”
It’s simultaneously the most convoluted and unrefined plan Regulus has ever heard, yet it possesses a sort of cunning that he applauds… plus, it's oddly sweet.
“Sweet? Sweet?” his brother echoes, and Regulus feels his cheeks heat after realizing he unintentionally spoke aloud. Ripping his hands out of Lupin’s grip, Sirius places them onto his own hips. “Regulus, you almost died! It’s not sweet, it’s completely barmy!” He turns back to Lupin, eyes stormy. “Look, I understand you were doing what you thought was best, but the ends do NOT justify the means, Remus. I will NEVER forgive you for this.”
Even Potter gapes at Lupin. “Mate, what the hell were you thinking?! I wish you would have told me, so I could have informed you that your scheme was beyond batty and absolutely not the way Gryffindors do things!”
“I understand, Sirius, and I apologize for everything,” Lupin mutters, eyes downcast, but Regulus can tell he’s on the verge of tears. “And I’m sorry, James, I know these two weeks have been difficult for you, too. I would, however, like to clarify that I didn’t intend to hit Regulus that hard…” His gaze moves to the younger Slytherin. “I’m so sorry, if I had known you recently suffered a concussion prior to our scrap, I never would have -”
“HE ALMOST DROWNED, REMUS!” Sirius bellows. “YOU WANTED TO PLAY THE HERO, AND YOU USED MY LITTLE BROTHER AS A PAWN IN YOUR GAME, AND I CAN’T… YOU’RE DEAD TO ME, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?! DEAD!” (Regulus barely resists rolling his eyes).
Lupin’s head jerks up. “Whoa, whoa, WHOA, I had no part in what happened with Travers!” He looks helplessly at Regulus. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I swear I didn’t.”
“I believe you,” he says before anyone else can speak. Larson Travers would never do someone else's dirty work, even if Regulus Black was involved. “And truthfully, I appreciate your plot, abstruse as it was.” He takes a deep breath, suddenly nervous; Potter seems to sense this and squeezes his hand in support, which provides him with the courage to continue. “I also believe you would make a good partner for my brother… for whatever it’s worth, you have my blessing.”
It's comical how shocked his words leave the room’s occupants.
“I like him a lot,” Lupin says in a quiet voice.
“Good,” Regulus nods. “But if you hurt him, I’ll chop you into pieces and bury your bones in so many places across the world, it’ll take centuries to find it all.”
Sirius drops his face into his hands with a groan. “We talked about this, Reg.”
“Aw, don’t be like that, Siri, it’s cute,” Potter laughs. “We all know he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Narcissa and Andromeda wear matching looks of disbelief.
“My jaw would disagree,” Lupin mutters.
Potter scowls at his friend. “Karma for being a hypocrite, methinks.”
“Pardon, but I believe Sirius has something to say,” Regulus firmly redirects when the two Gryffindors start glaring at each other.
Sirius doesn’t have something to say, it seems, and now neither of the two Gryffindors are moving. Minutes pass with no resolution, and Regulus muffles his scream into the additional pillow Pipsy so kindly hands him. Embarrassing on his part, yes, but it at least gets his brother talking.
“I like you, too, Remus. Since the end of first year.” He lifts his nose in the air. “Not that it’s a competition, of course, but if it were, I would win.”
Now it’s Lupin’s turn to be daft. “Oh.”
But it’s okay, see. Lupin is evidently made from tougher stuff than Sirius Orion Black, because now he’s closing the distance between them, and Regulus has to cover his mouth again with the pillow, lest he ruin the moment.
Leave it to Sirius to do it for him.
At the very last second, Sirius twists his face to the side, and Lupin’s lips end up on his cheek.
“I’m… fuck, I’m sorry, Sirius, I didn’t mean to be presumptuous,” Lupin stammers, scrambling backwards until the back of his legs bump into the bed.
Sirius, to his credit, opens his mouth to respond, but Regulus experiences his first legitimate foray into the infamous Black Family Madness.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” He lobs the pillow in his hands at his brother, who infuriatingly smacks it down. Regulus quickly chucks another, letting go of Potter’s hand in the meantime, but Sirius still catches it before it can hit him, looking flabbergasted. “YOU, SIRIUS ORION BLACK, ARE SO INCREDIBLY SELF-SABOTAGING, IT GENUINELY ASTONISHES ME.” He reaches for something else, but finds nothing suitable until Pipsy hands him a muffin. He doesn’t ask where it came from, merely hurls it at his brother’s stupid face, pleased when it smacks him right in the forehead. “YOU LIKE HIM. HE LIKES YOU. YOU THRIVE OFF DOING THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT OUR PARENTS EXPECT, SO WHY ARE YOU BEING A TWAT ABOUT THIS?!”
Everyone’s gaping at him like he grew four heads in front of their very eyes, but an unfortunate side effect of his temporary descent into madness leaves him coughing painfully into the crook of his elbow. To his frustration, Sirius bustles over and maneuvers him back into bed… he’s not sure when he stood up.
“If I am allowed to continue,” Sirius sniffs, though his gray eyes are unusually bright. He hands Regulus a glass of water and refuses to continue until he drinks it. “You would have learned that it is my intention to properly court Remus John Lupin.”
Lupin looks surprised by this pronouncement. “Dare I ask what that entails?”
“A lot of wooing, Moonbeam!” Sirius theatrically assures him. “If you are amiable, of course.”
The taller Gryffindor bites his lip, considering the idea. “Do I get to be your boyfriend during this courting process?”
“Oh.” Sirius rubs the back of his neck, eyes staring into the distance. “Yes, alright, I don’t see why that would be a problem.”
“Yay,” Regulus says emotionlessly, though inside he’s positively screaming.
Beside him, someone sniffles. Regulus glances at Pipsy, who peers at him with a knowing smile… but they’re both wrong.
“Mate?” Sirius asks, sharing a ‘what the fuck’ look with Lupin.
Potter, the heathen, blots his watery eyes with the sleeve of his robe. “I’m just… so h-happy for you both, you have no idea.” He holds his clasped hands in front of his chest, the picture of sincerity. “I love you guys so much.”
Pipsy hands Potter a clean handkerchief, because she’s classy, unlike someone who shall-not-be-named.
“Oi!” Sirius throws his head back and cackles. “Pipsy, I should have known.”
What exactly he should have known is never explained because he suddenly sobers up, and now he’s staring at Pipsy with a look, that look, the one that strikes fear in the hearts of their teachers, peers, even their relatives. It’s a look that says he’s thinking.
Pipsy stares back, unblinking, but she soon realizes Sirius isn’t actually looking at her by now, just lost in his head. Regulus wonders if she knows how terrifying that thought is… probably not. He wishes he were as lucky.
Potter leaves Sirius to his scheming and gets up to strike up a conversation with Lupin while Andromeda and Narcissa rush over. Regulus is then caught up in a whirlwind of hugs, fussing, and hissed warnings to never scare them like that again.
“I’m going to kill him,” Narcissa softly vows, her hands miming out strangling someone. It’s a Gryffindor-esque threat, and it jolts Sirius out of his thoughts. “Travers, I’m going to rip him to pieces, I will -”
Pipsy whispers that she needs to go, and they say their quiet goodbyes. She pops away with a self-satisfied grin.
Andromeda interrupts her younger sister before she can get too far. “And then who will take care of all the snakes when you’re in Azkaban, Cissy? Don’t be rash.”
“I’m going to tear -”
“No.” Sirius is the one who cuts her off this time, and Regulus wordlessly hands her one of his pillows to muffle her frustrated screams… not that it does much good, bloody hell, what a pair of lungs. “No, Cissa you’re not.”
Narcissa’s eye twitches. “So, we’re just going to let him walk free after trying to murder one of us? I very clearly remember telling you Travers know Regulus can’t swim, meaning -”
Potter returns to the edge of Regulus’s bed with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “I’ll teach you to swim this summer.” He nods towards his brother. “Both of you, promise.”
Well… Regulus has a lot of thoughts on that, most of them inappropriate for this current environment, so he half-shrugs, hoping that will suffice.
“Narcissa, trust me, I know what it means,” Sirius says, oddly calm, eyes unfocused - he seems to be at war with himself.
“Sirius, what are you thinking?” Andromeda asks when nothing further is shared.
His brother finally snaps out of his haze. “I need to use the loo, excuse me.”
Andromeda and Narcissa look bemused by Sirius’s abrupt exit, and after a second of debate, Potter hurries after him. There’s a bit of shoving once they reach the loo on the opposite end of the Hospital Wing, but Potter prevails in his quest, wiggling in right before the door slams shut.
“Was that weird to anyone else, or just me?” Andromeda eventually asks.
Narcissa raises an eyebrow towards Lupin. “You aren’t bothered by your new boyfriend going to the loo with his best mate?”
The Hospital Wing understands the value of privacy, at least to an extent. There are several individual washrooms located throughout the large room, meaning a student doesn’t have to feel pressured to rush through their business. So, Sirius and Potter sharing the loo is unnecessary, assuming that’s what they’re actually doing.
Lupin shrugs, unperturbed by the codependency of his new boyfriend with another male. “Think I’m used to it, honestly, and James has been going through withdrawals since Sirius left, so it’s understandable.”
‘Understandable’ is not a word Regulus would use in this situation, but alas.
There’s a loud commotion coming from the lone occupied loo, like someone knocked something over, followed by muffled shouts. Regulus thinks he heard three voices, not two, but seeing as how he can’t hear one specific word, he assumes he’s made an error.
Narcissa returns to making mumbled threats, ‘plans’ as he’s sure she could call them, and the other two Blacks allow her to continue without interruption, understanding it’s cathartic for her.
Lupin, who had been lost in thought, suddenly stands up. Four seconds later, Sirius and Potter stumble out of the loo, looking rather worse for wear.
“Oh,” Sirius coughs when he reaches them, noticing their expecting gazes. He smooths his wrinkled robes out, unable to make eye contact with anyone. “Yes, alright, off you lot go, Reg needs to rest.”
“Ha!” Andromeda gracefully arranges herself into a chair to the left of Regulus’s bed, Narcissa following her lead.
Their reactions are unsurprising. Lupin’s, though… he’s a confusing one. He moves to stand in front of Sirius, looking worried.
“Are you sure?” Lupin murmurs, eyes focused on nothing except the dark-haired boy’s face.
His words sound like they hold a different meaning, something more significant than whether or not they should leave to let Regulus sleep. When Sirius cocks his head to the side in silent question, Lupin reaches a hand out and gently tugs on his earlobe. His brother’s face clears with understanding, something Regulus does not share.
“It’ll be alright. I promise, Remus, I know what I’m doing.”
Lupin drags his new boyfriend into a hug. “I trust you, Siri, always. I’m sorry for being such a berk these last two weeks.”
Sirius rests his chin on Lupin’s shoulder. “We can talk about it later, but I was definitely the berkiest.”
Potter, sensing the impending bickering, hurriedly shoos Lupin out of the room after waving farewell to their group over his shoulder.
Regulus hates himself for being disappointed by the lack of substantial goodbye.
Notes:
Finalllly, the big reveal of why wolfstar fought in the first place!
Remus legit went from, "We shouldn't meddle" (said during his conversation with James right before the Easter holidays last year) to "Omg, these bitches need *help*, and I'm the guy for the job."
House points to anyone who guesses what Sirius is up to ;)
Chapter 28: A Black Affair Part I
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Sirius doesn't explain what any of that was about. Too busy pacing up and down the Hospital Wing while muttering to himself, his words are even less decipherable than Narcissa’s. Regulus, who actually is tired now that things have quieted down, doesn’t bat an eye when Madam Pomfrey leaves the ward after receiving an ‘urgent summons' to the Headmaster’s office. She asks Narcissa to mind the Hospital Wing while she's away, 'With Albus, this could take a minute or several hours. He's notorious for refusing to explain what he actually wants before I arrive... and sometimes after!' At the current moment, the ward has four occupants. And they're all Blacks.
Naturally, right as Regulus is drifting off to sleep, the double doors fly open and slam against the wall with a BANG.
Bolting upright, he instinctively snatches his wand off the side table... but when his brain registers the source of the commotion, he wonders if he's dreaming. Why would his parents be at Hogwarts, and more specifically, in the Hospital Wing?! And with Kreacher too? It's madness!
For someone prone to dreams significantly worse than whatever this nuttiness is, I should count myself lucky.
“Mother, Father,” Sirius greets evenly, inclining his head. Standing with his back ramrod straight, he doesn’t move to embrace them. “I am pleased to see Kreacher delivered my message to you.”
“Kreacher lives to serve the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black,” the house elf intones in his gravelly voice.
... not a dream, got it.
This is fine, totalllly fine.
Exchanging a look with his cousins, he almost smacks his forehead when he realizes what Sirius did. Of course this is happening in real life, because never in Regulus's wildest, most off-the-wall dreams, would he have imagined his brother summoning their family’s house elf into Hogwarts for any reason, let alone to use him as a messenger to inform their parents about an incident that happened at school. While Regulus adores their house elf and vice versa, that same bond is not shared between Kreacher and Sirius, not by a long shot.
The next ten minutes are spent with Sirius, Narcissa, Andromeda giving Mother and Father a detailed version of events, surprisingly not as dramatized as Regulus would have expected from them. Standing at the foot of his bed, Orion and Walburga Black hardly spare their youngest son a glance during the rundown, though Kreacher is kind enough to refill Regulus's water pitcher when he notices it’s empty.
“And what exactly are you asking of us, Sirius?” Father inquires when the debriefing concludes.
It's a shame they don't put images in dictionaries; Sirius could be the poster-child for 'confusion'.
Head cocked to the side and lips downturned, he squints at their parents. “What am I asking of you?”
Sirius is the biggest dunce in the world if he truly believed he’d receive an outraged reaction from them over my forced dip into the Black Lake.
Father rolls his eyes. “Yes, as usual, you lack any sense of subtlety whatsoever. We could have received this news via owl tomorrow, directly from the Headmaster. So, I will ask you one last time - what do you want, Sirius?”
Quickly overcoming his bewilderment, Sirius cries, “I want justice, Father! I have sworn to Regulus I wouldn’t seek revenge myself, but neither of you have." Bloody hell, this was not the sort of loophole he expected Sirius to take advantage of! "It is imperative that the Travers family feels the righteous fury of the House of Black, that they bear witness to our might and undeniable supremacy, that they experience the harshest extent of suffering we can induce for daring to cross us. They need to pay for what they did to my brother, and I demand that payment be made in blood!! As the Head of our family, you are the one who can collect that remittance -"
"While that might be the case," Orion hums, his blank expression giving nothing away, "I'm curious to learn why you think you're in a position to demand anything from anyone in this family."
"Rather convenient that you're suddenly so keen on being a Black, isn't it?" Mother asks haughtily, nose lifted in the air. "Last I heard, you wanted nothing to do with 'our lot'."
Sirius can dislike it all he wants, but she makes a solid point.
"Well -"
"And would you stop fidgeting?!" she demands. "You're making me nauseous swaying in place like that."
Red splotches of color start crawling up Sirius’s neck, but he locks his muscles in place, standing stiff as a board. "Not sure why you're getting fussed at me, when I'm only requesting the Head of the Black family do his damn job!"
"Getting involved in schoolyard disputes is not my 'job'," Father scoffs derisively. "Now, if that's all -"
Sirius has never let anything go so easily. Not once. But, oh, Regulus wishes he would. More than anything, he wishes his brother never traversed down this path. Nothing good will come of it.
"ATTEMPTED MURDER IS NOT A SCHOOLYARD DISPUTE, FATHER!" The Gryffindor-Black spits the title like it's the foulest of insults. "HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE THAT? GRANDFATHER WOULD BE DISGUSTED BY YOUR LACK OF ACTION -"
"Sirius," Andromeda says neutrally. She doesn't say anything else, doesn't need to.
Instead of shouting at her - his typical response whenever their cousins admonish him, subtle or not - Sirius inhales deeply, then lets it out slowly. "Clearly, the severity of the issue is lost on you, so let me spell it out. This goes beyond the Travers family. The wizarding world must be reminded, without a shadow of a doubt, they cannot attempt to harm one of us without incurring our wrath, a wrath that will hit ten times harder than their initial deed against us! To do nothing would be utterly absurd... you’re basically encouraging people to try their luck at offing us! I know you two rarely leave the safety of Grimmauld Place, Father, but the rest of us are sitting snidgets out here! Does that clear everything up for you, sir?"
“No.”
Arms crossed over his chest, the fingers of Sirius's right hand tap an erratic pattern on his opposite arm. "I’m confused as to what part you're confused about, Mother."
"I understand exactly what you are saying, Sirius, I am not confused," Walburga counters indignantly. "We are denying your request, end of story."
“Excuse me?!” The youngest Black is unsurprised by Mother's words, as is Father. Glancing over at his cousins, Regulus discovers that they're on the same side as Sirius for once. “See, now I'm the one who's confused. What do you mean, no?! It wasn't a 'yes' or 'no' question!”
“This was an unfortunate accident -”
“It was NOT an accident -"
“Are we through here?" she snaps icily.
”You certainly may leave, Mother, I wasn’t asking you anyways!” He turns imploringly to Father. "Sir."
Father gives his firstborn a disapproving look. “Mind your manners, Sirius. Now, we have much to do -"
"Yeah?" Sirius laughs scathingly, the crimson coloring now spreading across his cheeks. "Like what? You don't have a real job, and you won't do the one you inherited, so what's on the agenda today, hmm? Gossiping with other rich folk? Spitting on a few orphans in Knockturn Alley? Kicking crups and schmoozing with Lucas Travers and his wife?!"
"I'm warning you," Mother hisses. "Your behavior is even more deplorable than usual, and I will not tolerate it!"
"Your theatrics grow tiresome -”
“You heard what Cissa and Andie said!” the Gryffindor rudely interrupts. “About how after that class on boggarts in his third year, everyone learned Reg's greatest fear is drowning. And anyone with half a brain can reasonably conclude that a person who is terrified of drowning can't swim. Father, it's common sense!"
"So, you're telling me you share the same fear?" Orion asks skeptically.
"Of course, I do!" Well, now I'm confused... I know Sirius can't swim either, but I never knew he was afraid of - "I am bloody terrified of Reg drowning, especially now!"
Ah...
The worst part is, Sirius's remark is said with complete and total sincerity.
"That's not -"
"There’s also a reputable eye witness -”
Regulus resists massaging his temples. This is surely about to be a blowout fight between his brother and their parents.
(“All you do is cause problems for those around you.")
Raising his voice, Father cuts his son off. “If you had paid attention in your lessons, Sirius, perhaps you would remember that the Travers family is among the Sacred Twenty-Eight. They are proud Purebloods, the same as us -"
"I don't give a DAMN about their bloodline, and neither should you! And before you say it, I also don't give a rat's arse if they're related to the Minister of Magic, that git Salazar Slytherin, or... or, erm -"
"Merlin?" Narcissa offers hesitantly.
Snapping his fingers, Sirius exclaims, "Or Merlin himself! They made the first move, they started this feud, but the Blacks will finish it, Father, we have to -" His voice abruptly stops.
Peering around in confusion, Regulus catches Kreacher's self-satisfied grin, and shakes his head, this isn't gonna go well.
Nodding approvingly, Mother seems wholeheartedly untroubled by how apoplectic her firstborn looks. "Thank you, Kreacher. I already felt a migraine coming on."
"Mistress does not need to hear such tosh," the house elf says, bowing his head. "Kreacher is honored to silence the young master for his Mistress's peace of mind."
"If you listened, for once in your life..." Trailing off, Father eyes his Gryffindor son warily. "Sirius, you're going to pop a blood vessel if you don't relax. Would you get ahold of yourself?! This childish temper tantrum you're having is disgraceful!" Eyes squeezed shut, his brother's jaw is clenched so tightly, Regulus hears his teeth grinding together. "House elf magic isn't so easily -"
Without warning, the water pitcher on the side table explodes with a deafening BOOM! Almost like he expected that to happen, Kreacher repairs the broken glass and vanishes the water before Regulus can even think to shield himself.
"You can't... I won't..." Chest heaving as if he ran a marathon, Sirius has enough lung capacity to scream, "I WILL NOT BE SILENCED!"
"We're gonna make him teach us how to do that," Andromeda mutters to her sister, patting her knee. Gaping at Sirius with wide eyes, Narcissa wordlessly nods. "Mother won't know what hit her."
You can't even shake off a Silencio from a Hogwarts student, the voice in the back of his head whispers snidely. So, he won't be teaching you that trick, it'd be a waste of everyone's time!
Father blinks, then blinks again. Next to him, Mother gazes proudly at her high-achieving, magically powerful, stubborn beyond belief son. It's not overt, of course, and Sirius seems completely oblivious to it (per usual). But throughout his life, Regulus has seen the expression directed at his brother enough times to know precisely what it means.
Quickly schooling his expression back to neutral, Father heaves a heavy sigh. "I feared this day would come."
"Feared the day someone would try to murder your youngest?" Sirius sneers. "Me too, actually!" I genuinely can't tell if he's joking, being dramatic, or entirely truthful.
"If you cared to listen," Father drawls, "the point I was intending to make is the Travers family would NEVER harm a Black without just cause." He holds a hand up when Sirius gasps. "And I highly doubt that Regulus did anything to either Larson or his older brothers.”
Regulus keeps his gaze lowered, even when he senses eyes on him. Because yes, technically Father is correct, at least in his latter deduction. Regulus didn’t do a damn thing to Larson Travers, nor did he do anything to anyone remotely close to him. If anything, it’s Regulus who has just cause to harm Larson in retaliation, even prior to this afternoon.
But when has life ever operated on such Gryffindor ideals?
Never.
“Let me guess!" Sirius screeches. "You think I did something terrible to this prick, and he went after Reggie to get revenge -”
“I, for one, wouldn’t be surprised if that were so,” Walburga sniffs. “Seems exactly like the sort of trouble you’d drag your brother into.”
("Salazar, I almost feel bad for your family, being related to someone as worthless as you.")
Regulus knows he should say something, knows he should speak up in defense of his brother, but the shame suffocates him, like a hand clasping around his throat, you’re so weak, if you could stick up for yourself, if you weren't so reliant on others like a helpless infant, this wouldn’t be an issue right now.
His brother, oh, he’s so undeserving of his older sibling, turns around and offers him a small, reassuring smile, like he knows how guilt-ridden Regulus feels, but that’s just crazy. Sirius doesn’t know 98% of what Travers has done to him, and regardless, he should be utterly offended that Regulus has steadfastly maintained his silence. Especially when this entire quarrel is about him!
Andromeda politely clears her throat. “Auntie, Uncle… it was not an accident."
"Since Regulus stepped off the train," Narcissa continues, "Larson has had some personal vendetta against him -”
“You know what,” Sirius loudly interjects, much to the younger’s relief - he does not want their parents even vaguely aware of the depths of Travers's antagonism towards him, “fine! Maybe Larson does hate me because I’m beautiful. Or perhaps I unknowingly looked at the bird he fancies, so he decided to take his frustrations out on Reggie -”
(“Imagine how much easier everyone's lives would be if you didn't exist.")
Funnily enough, Mother looks like she's listening intently to her firstborn, taking his words into consideration; it’s Father who scoffs incredulously. “Where is the logic in that? Outside of those rubbish novels you sneak from your Aunt Lucretia's house, who does that?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time such a thing happened to us!” Merlin, and Sirius has the gall to say Regulus can spin the truth?! Please. “But either way, he purposely tried to KILL my brother, Father, explain to me how that’s okay?!”
“I am sure it was unintentional." Father’s voice takes on a firm, unyielding edge, in a way that leaves no room for argument. "And there are things you don’t understand, Sirius, as is usually the case!"
His brother argues anyway, because of course he does.
"Yeah?" Sirius bares his teeth. "What's the Travers family got over you that makes you so scared of them, huh?"
"If you think we have any qualms about disciplining you while you're at school," Mother cries, her complexion matching his, "you are sorely mistaken!"
"They have a son who will make an ideal match for one of our own," Father explains before the shouting can begin... again.
Sirius points accusingly at Mother. "Aunt Cassiopeia is finally settling down, and you didn't tell me?!!!! This is why I don't trust anyone!"
"Not in your lifetime," Walburga mutters, sharing an amused glance with her eldest. There are very few topics Mother and Sirius can discuss without getting into an argument, but as dedicated purveyors of gossip, they gleefully exchange tidbits of information about Aunt Cassi's 'love life' whenever they learn something new.
Narcissa gasps, the first to understand. “You want Andromeda to marry someone who tried to murder Regulus?”
No, no, oh Merlin, NO, Larson Travers cannot be a part of this family, he can't.
Regulus's chest tightens at the thought of having to see that arsehole at every family function, of enduring his disdainful glances and snide remarks, how Travers will have countless, endless opportunities to taunt and harass him, even when Regulus is in his own home, I’ll never escape him, he’ll never let me, and poor Andromeda, married to that tosser? The injustice!
Mother silences Narcissa's objections with a pointed glare, though it doesn’t prevent Regulus from exchanging a commiserating look with his cousin. Andromeda doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes, her expression completely and perfectly blank.
“May I remind you, Mother," Sirius grits out, all traces of amusement gone, "Regulus is your SON.”
“Considering it is I, not you, who birthed him, believe me when I say, I know. And since I birthed you, let me remind you, Sirius, that it is you, not your brother, who’s the oldest and heir. Which means, you have a -”
How his brother can be so taken aback by Mother's callous words, Regulus will never understand. They’ve known since they were toddlers that Sirius is more important to their parents as the heir, regardless of their feelings towards him.
“You truly think my life is worth more, simply because I was born first?” The youngest Black twists the sheets in his hands, why won't they just stop?! "Me, over Regulus?! The good son? Where is the logic in that?!"
“You’re putting words in my mouth!” Mother snaps, her nostril's flaring. “Your presumptuousness is audacious. As the oldest and heir, it is you -"
Looking like he's seconds away from whipping his wand out, which would be monumentally suicidal of him, Sirius shouts, “Mother, if you finish that sentence, I will do EVERYTHING in my power to ensure the Blacks have no heir to speak of, ever!”
“How DARE you attempt to threaten us, Sirius Orion!” Her fingers twitch, like she’s debating on reaching for her own wand. “Every passing year, you become increasingly difficult to deal with in any sort of civilized manner, no doubt a result of your time spent surrounded by ill-mannered degenerates!”
Sirius’s throat bobs, swallowing back what was likely to be an insult… unfortunately, another one appears in its place, hissed through clenched teeth. “I always knew you were cowards.” The last word is spoken softly, yet it resonates throughout the Hospital Wing; the sound of Mother backhanding him across the face echoes after, but Sirius neither flinches nor backs down. “I will write to Uncle Alphard immediately, of course. I’m sure he will be interested to hear that someone tried to off his nephew. And Grandmother Melania -”
Father’s eyes flash. “Sirius, you will do no such thing.”
“I SURE AS FUCK WILL, FATHER!” Sirius roars, all sense of decorum lost. “IN FACT, I’LL TELL THE ENTIRE FAMILY ABOUT THIS TRANSGRESSION AGAINST US!! YOU WANT TO BE CIVILIZED? FINE! WE CAN TAKE A VOTE ON HOW TO PROCEED, HOW DOES THAT SOUND, HUH? THERE'S NOTHING MORE CIVILIZED THAN DEMOCRACY!”
Orion places a firm hand on his wife’s arm, and although she angrily shakes it off, she doesn’t intervene… yet. “You’re treading on dangerous territory, Sirius. This family is not a democracy. My word is law."
“Your word is rubbish, and you should be ashamed of yourself!... the both of you! You think I’m the only Black who cares for Regulus? You think we'll all happily sit back and let some lowlife scum get away with trying to murder our youngest?! You’re barking mad if that’s the case!” Sirius finally lowers his voice, though his ensuing words are just as audible as before. “I’m confident they’ll want to know that if anything ever happens to them, you won’t trouble yourselves with vengeance on their behalf. I mean, if you won't do it for your own son, one of only TWO blokes who can ensure the family name lives on for another generation," the spare, "why would you do it for them? Merlin, I would pay to see their faces when they get my letter!”
“You’re making up lies now, and they’ll know it immediately,” Father retorts harshly.
“At least those that have common sense,” Mother huffs, side-eyeing her husband; it’s a well known fact that Grandmother Melania, Father’s mother, always believes everything Sirius tells her (probably because she’s one of the few people he’ll be completely honest with if she asks him a direct question).
Orion inclines his head in acknowledgement. “We will swiftly correct any slander you seek to bestow upon us, and I assure you, son, you will not like the consequences of your defiance. If you thought we were tough before, then…” He trails off, the threat hanging in the air.
Accustomed to their threats, Sirius makes an incredulous noise; he doesn’t care if they make good on them and never has. If their parents don't understand that by now, well... that's on them.
“Are you so sure they won’t believe me, Father? Would you like to bet your standing within the family on it? I understand you’re wary of letting everyone know you’re spineless cravens, but if you’re so fucking concerned about your reputation, then I implore you to avenge your son!”
Mother’s control disappears at the barbed insult to their characters. Whipping her wand out, she points it directly at Sirius’s face, right between his eyes. A flicker of uncertainty crosses his features, though it's quickly replaced by a defiant glare. He stands tall, fearless, refusing to back down in spite of the palpable tension in the room. But upon closer inspection, Regulus determines his brother isn’t as unaffected as first assumed; Sirius’s fists, clenched tightly at his side, tremble, either with fury or fear, it's impossible to say. As he waits for the impending curse from the woman who brought him into this world, his shoulders draw so closely together, the strain shows through the fabric his robes.
"What are you waiting for, Mother?" Sirius's voice quivers on the title. "An invitation? Do it."
"ENOUGH!" Too busy staring each other down, they don't react to Father's command. "Walburga, put your wand away."
"Your son needs to be taught a lesson!"
"Curious, isn't it, how he's always my son when he misbehaves? And he's yours when -"
"He always misbehaves, Orion, because you're soft on him!"
Andromeda slowly rises to her feet. "Auntie, please."
"I don't care what you do to me." Sirius steps closer, until Mother's wand presses into his skin, blimey, why why WHY is he like this?! "You'll never change my mind. And you'll never change me."
"Sirius, shut up!" Narcissa snaps, an undercut of worry in her voice. "Whatever you're trying to prove, just... drop it! Let it go."
"Listen to your cousin, boy… and Walburga, I'm warning you -"
"Do your worst, Mother. It’ll be your last chance. Because if you two refuse to take action, you're DEAD to me, the both of you!"
Face contorting with righteous fury, Mother pulls her arm back, the air around her crackling with pent-up magic. Sirius twitches, like he's fighting the instinctual urge to cower. But then he sets his jaw, rolls his shoulders back. Determined. Unafraid. So stupidly stubborn... the youngest Black is up and out of his bed before the voice in the back of his head can tell him to intervene (which it does, sigh. He’s probably in for a fourth brush with death).
Throwing himself between her and his brother, Regulus cries, “Mother, no!” His uncharacteristic rebellion is enough to rip the curse right off her tongue. “Leave him be!”
“MOVE, REGULUS!” Planting his feet, Regulus resists Sirius’s efforts to maneuver him out of the way. “This matter does not concern you!”
The irony of that comment is lost on her, unfortunately.
“It does, actually,” Regulus argues, his voice unwavering. Strange, since his heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest. “I understand your reluctance to move against the Travers family, but if we don’t, what’s to stop them from coming for the heir next? Sirius is right; they’ll think us soft and merciful, and then word will spread across the magical community of our leniency. Instead of trembling before us as they do now, our enemies will be breaking down our doors, attempting to oust us from our homes! And what if they succeed? All it takes is one wrong move... in this case, the wrong move is not moving... and our entire bloodline ends."
Is Regulus suddenly on board with this whole 'retaliation' plan? Absolutely not. But Sirius needs someone to stand with him, so he'll suck it up. It's only fair.
Right as that thought crosses his mind, Andromeda steps forward to stand regally on Sirius's left. “There's no need to concern yourselves over it, Aunt Walburga, Uncle Orion. I will write to Bellatrix immediately. She’s never been fussed with politics, especially when defending a family member is involved. And I know she’s been looking for a way to repay Regulus for his invaluable help with, uh... her upcoming nuptials.”
“And I’m sure my betrothed, Lucius, will happily contact his father for guidance,” Narcissa adds next to Andromeda. Her voice is sickeningly sweet. “Abraxas Malfoy has always been fond of Regulus, as I’m sure you remember.”
"I see my eldest's insubordination is contagious!" Mother snarls. "I'm set to have tea with Cygnus tomorrow. I'll be sure to inform him that his two youngest daughters have turned argumentative and disrespectful, and suggest disciplinary measures be taken at once!"
"Thank you for looking out for our best interests, Auntie," the blonde says demurely. "To return the favor, I will look out for Regulus's best interests by explaining to our father precisely why you've suddenly deemed us 'argumentative and disrespectful'."
Mother’s face scrunches up like she ate an entire box of vomit-flavored Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. "You need to start remembering your place, you impudent, insolent little wench -"
"Oi, I think the fuck not, Mother!"
"All four of you need a good week in the dungeons to straighten you out!" She looks to her husband. "In fact -"
"LEAVE THEM ALONE!" Sirius thunders, positioning himself in front of the two older girls. Unlike before, Regulus is forcibly yanked off his feet, then shoved into the arms of their cousins. "YOU'VE GOT A PROBLEM WITH ME? THAT'S FINE, BECAUSE I'VE GOT A PROBLEM WITH YOU. BUT THEY DIDN'T DO A DAMN THING, SO KEEP THEM OUT OF IT!"
Thankfully, Father speaks before the curses can start flying. “Kreacher, please take Walburga back to Grimmauld Place. I need to speak with my sons. Alone.”
“Yes, Master,” Kreacher drones, sending one last worried look at Regulus before disappearing with an incensed Walburga Black.
Staring straight at Narcissa and Andromeda, Father wordlessly instructs them to leave. They take a few steps back, arranging themselves primly into the chairs they previously vacated.
Surprisingly, Father doesn’t comment. His eyes lock onto his oldest son. “Sirius.”
“Father." In an act of outright defiance, Sirius maintains the steady eye contact. Orion doesn’t waste his breath correcting his firstborn's manners, recognizing the importance of picking one’s battles where Sirius is concerned. He opens his mouth, likely to begin reprimanding his offspring, but Regulus can no longer contain the cough he’s been suppressing since he last spoke. “Uh, hold that thought, daddy-o.”
“Sirius -”
Spinning around, his brother pins him with a shrewd look he must have picked up from Narcissa. “Regulus, get back into bed.”
He furiously shakes his head, unwilling to let Sirius stand alone against their father. “I’m fine -”
“You most certainly are not.” Against his will, Regulus is corralled back onto the cot. Sirius then hands him another goblet of water and watches him like a hawk, until every last drop is consumed. “Now stay, little star, or I’ll show you just how proficient I am at temporary," his eyes dart towards where Father is standing, "sticking charms!"
“But -”
Rolling his eyes, Sirius leans forward to drop a kiss onto the top of his head, then whispers in his ear, “Relax, Reg, it’s just Father, I’ll be alright, yeah?”
The calmer of their two parents, Father has always had a much easier time than Mother at navigating Sirius's various moods... probably because he's willing to let certain things slide. Not every battle must be fought.
When Regulus reluctantly nods, Sirius turns to face off against the Head of their family once more. “Apologies, do continue, Father.”
“Since you were young,” Orion begins tersely, “your mother has found you to be selfish, uncaring of our family’s values, rebellious, arrogant, unruly -”
Jutting his chin out, Sirius drawls, “You’ll find that I’m quite aware how Mother views me. As such, I would like to acknowledge that you missed several of my personal favorites, including ‘incorrigible’, ‘impertinent’, and ‘insubordinate’.”
“I always thought ‘obnoxious’ was the most fitting,” Narcissa muses, before getting an elbow in the side from her sister.
The Black heir beams with pride. “You’re not wrong… for once.”
“She also said you were the handsomest in the family, and one of the most attractive Blacks to ever live,” Regulus divulges in hopes of mitigating the sting of their father’s cruel remark. “I heard her say it to Madam Bulstrode earlier in the summer.”
Narcissa and Andromeda share a skeptical look, but Regulus isn't lying to make his brother feel better! Now, whether Mother is exaggerating or not is obviously a matter of opinion… that undoubtedly fiery debate is one Regulus would rather not get into if he can avoid it, thanks
His brother, arrogant and vain as ever, preens at the remark… until he reads between the lines of Regulus’s words. “She… no, Regulus, you must have heard wrong. Because it sounds like she’s trying to marry me off to Scarlett Bulstrode, and that just isn’t on.”
Narcissa covers her mouth with a delicate hand, eyes wide.
Father dashes all of their hopes with five words. “Scarlett is an optimal match.” The Gryffindor blanches, horror-stricken by this news. He doesn’t protest, too taken aback to formulate an argument. “She is an unconventional beauty, sure, but she will make a suitable wife.”
“I’m beautiful enough for the both of us,” Sirius shrilly argues when he recovers his voice. “We all know that’s not the problem!”
The 'problem' is relatively straightforward; Scarlett Bulstrode is Bellatrix’s arch-nemesis.
Though honestly, ‘arch-nemesis’ isn't a strong enough word to truly encompass the magnitude of the girls’ mutual loathing for one another. Regulus only had to live with them in the same castle for two years, thank the Fates. But the trauma was enough to last a lifetime.
Still, it’s not as bad as Larson marrying Andromeda…
Scarlett ignores Regulus.
Larson Travers does not.
“Well…” Andromeda says, the only one of the younger Black’s able to maintain their composure. “I’m sure it will be a lovely ceremony.”
“Before or after it’s covered in blood?” Regulus asks incredulously, unable to squash the impolite remark down. “Clearly, she was sufficiently named, so the Naming Seer did an excellent job, but really!”
Narcissa lets out a quiet giggle before catching herself.
“Sweet Merlin's marbles," Sirius breathes, "Mother really does hate me, doesn't she?!”
"What hogwash!" Father tuts. "Your mother doesn't hate you."
It's the other way around, Regulus scoffs to himself. Although… Sirius really does seem to go out of his way to get her attention. And not just to distract her if I've messed up somehow.
Inhaling sharply, the Black heir turns imploringly to the Head of their family. “You have to swear to me you’ll let me see the memory when Bella finds out, Father, please do me this favor as my wedding gift, I beg you!”
Leave it to Sirius to be excited for his arranged marriage because of the inevitable drama it'll cause.
“Sirius has always wanted to be famous,” Narcissa adds sagely. “I’m sure the shortest marriage in history will place him in the record books.”
Andromeda nods. “And he’ll make the most fetching widow at what, twenty years of age?”
Father scowls at them. “I know Bellatrix and Scarlett have a… temperamental history, but your cousin is mature enough to let a childish schoolyard rivalry go.”
Regulus isn’t sure if Father is (wrongfully) optimistic or simply delusional.
Bellatrix Black doesn’t let grudges go. Ever. The adults in the family used to remark that it was part of her ‘charm’. But he’s curious to hear what they’ll say if when she leaves the heir to their family wife-less, especially if it's right after their nuptials. Or during!
Sirius opts for ‘delusional’. “Do we know the same woman?” Orion glares at the disrespect, but his oldest son isn’t deterred. Per usual. “After I was sorted into Gryffindor, Scar was passing by me in the Entrance Hall and made a snide remark about it. And Bellatrix, who I know thought the exact same thing considering her and her mates had just been telling me all about how I was a disgrace to my family name, almost clawed her eyes out. Literally.” He shivers at the memory. “Father, it was frightful.”
“You’ll survive. Both of you.”
“I’d be surprised if they make it to the honeymoon,” Regulus muses, mostly to himself.
Narcissa smiles wickedly at her sister. “Fifty galleons on Bella poisoning their wedding cake,”
“How gauche.” Andromeda wrinkles her nose. “I’ve got fifty on her poisoning the ring Sirius puts on Scar’s finger. Slow acting, of course, much harder to trace.”
“Ooh, that’s clever.”
“How boring!" Sirius scoffs. "I’ve got my money on Bella attacking her as she’s walking down the aisle.”
Regulus muffles his laughter by sipping from his water goblet. “Can you imagine everyone’s faces when the claws go flying? It’ll be like Wrath when she gets a new stuffed owl to maul.” They pause, each imagining the picture he painted for them
Then, suddenly, all four of them are collapsing into undignified giggles. Arms wrapped around each other, their cousins mutter comments that only make sense to each other. At the same time, Sirius drops onto his brother's cot, tears streaming down his face, while Regulus clutches his own stomach.
“ENOUGH!!!” Orion commands, instantly sobering them up, Sirius included. “I will not hear another word on this matter, nor will I tolerate any of you besmirching Bellatrix’s good name! Have I made myself clear?”
A timorous chorus of, “yes, Uncle Orion,” and “yes, Father” rings out.
“Good,” Father huffs. Keeping their eyes downcast, they wait for him to continue. “If any of you had a functioning brain at all, you would be able to correctly conclude that Bella would poison Scarlett’s champagne flute." As if sharing one mind, their heads whip up, and they silently gape at the Black patriarch. "And why would she do that? Because it would provide her a greater likelihood of success and a swift verifiable death. Imagine a new wife avoiding drinking during the wedding toasts? How scandalous!"
“Father?!”
Orion Black smirks at their thunderstruck faces. “Regulus, what are the two main rules of eavesdropping?”
Regulus feels his face heat as the attention shifts to him. “Don’t get caught?” Father minutely inclines his head. “And, um -“
“Don’t stutter, it’s unbecoming of someone of your pedigree.”
“Father, he almost died an hour or two ago, I think we can tolerate some stuttering!”
Regulus hurriedly continues before they can get off topic. Again. “Never assume you understand the intricacies of the conversation, especially if you did not hear it in its entirety.”
“Exactly. Scarlett will make an optimal match... for someone else. Your mother would never offer either of you as potential matches for Madam Bulstrode’s daughter.”
Sirius heaves a heavy sigh. “Oh, thank Godric.” Pale hands fly haphazardly in the air to articulate his thoughts. “On one side of the aisle, we have an excellent recipe for chaos, which I love.”
“We know,” the younger Blacks mutter, exchanging exasperated looks.
“On the opposite side,” the Gryffindor continues in a slightly louder voice, “that would leave me and my dashing good looks to carry our entire marriage. I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of pressure, you know?”
Rolling his eyes, Father gestures to his oldest son to stand up, smartly realizing it’s best not to encourage Sirius’s vain streak.
“As I was saying before you so obnoxiously interrupted…” Father’s face is smooth, eyes cold, giving nothing away. It seems like minutes pass before he speaks again, but his brother doesn’t fidget in the quiet, too headstrong to show weakness. “You have rarely lived up to my expectations, Sirius, but today, for the second time in your life…” In an unusual show of affection, he takes his eldest’s hand, and traces a thumb across the raised birthmark on Sirius's palm. “You have made me proud, son.”
And again, the words of the Black patriarch leave all four of them gobsmacked.
Sirius’s reaction to the praise is the most comical of all, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.
Ripping his hand back, he clutches it to his chest and stammers out a piercing, “Pardon?”
Orion Black, at least if Regulus’s observation skills are to be believed, looks like he’s repressing a smile. “You know I hate repeating myself, but in this instance, I’ll grant you a reprieve.” He clears his throat, surely reveling in ruffling his son’s feathers. “I. Am. Proud. Of. You. Sirius.”
Sirius blinks repeatedly, then quite literally, shakes himself free of his stupor. “Alright, Father, let’s get you seated. Have you gone into the attic alone recently?” Grabbing the older man's arm, he tries to guide him to the bed. “Budge over, Reg, Father’s been Confunded… or cursed, hard to say, but we’ll get him sorted in a jiffy, not to worry.”
Refusing to move, Father lightly smacks Sirius upside the head. “Enough. I only mean to say I am pleased at least one of our lessons made it through that thick skull of yours. You are correct in that the family comes first, always, regardless of outside concerns. If all of you are absolutely certain this was intentional,” the younger Blacks nod, including Regulus, after a moment of hesitation, “then I will personally ensure the Travers family ‘incurs our wrath’, or however you so theatrically put it.”
“Incurs our wrath ten times harder than the initial deed,” Sirius repeats, gray eyes dark and stormy. “Very important distinction I’d like to highlight.”
Regulus clears his throat. “Ten times is a bit extreme -”
“TEN TIMES.”
“Ten times.” Father inclines his head. “They will feel the righteous fury of the House of Black, bear witness to our might and undeniable supremacy, and experience the harshest extent of suffering we can induce for daring to cross us.”
A sense of foreboding snakes up Regulus’s spine… he holds his tongue, but he has a feeling this isn’t going to go well.
Eyes widening, Sirius's voice brims with hope. “Really? You’re going to… you promise?”
“I never go back on my word once it's given, you should know this by now.” Father raises a condescending eyebrow. “Or are you questioning my character again?”
“Just trying to be better at communicating!” Sirius chirps while doing some sort of excited wiggle they all pretend not to notice. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Then, in what is undeniably the strangest moment of the last two weeks (which says a lot considering all that’s happened), the Black heir makes the unhinged decision to launch himself at his sire... to embrace him. “I’ll never forget this, Father, I swear I won't!”
“See that you don’t." The older man stiffly pats his son on the back; Blacks aren’t really the ‘hugging’ type, though Grandmother Melania and Uncle Alphard (probably due to Uncle Gio’s influence) are slightly more affectionate with the younger generation.
At least Sirius has enough sense to release him quickly.
“Not that I don’t think you are fully capable of enacting revenge on your own, Uncle Orion,” Andromeda begins hesitantly. “But I was genuine,” she glares at Sirius, who leaned forward in anticipation of making his favorite joke, “in my suggestion that Bella would relish the opportunity to participate in this endeavor.”
“I will take your counsel under advisement.” Losing himself in thought, Father gazes vacantly into the distance, completely missing the way Narcissa and Sirius are now immaturely making faces at one another after his last remark. “You know, Alphard and I haven’t had fun in a while, and he despises the Travers family for the disparaging comments they've made about him and Giovanni.”
Regulus frowns, having overheard the rumors at different points in his life. They were usually accompanied by some rather nasty remarks.
“Salazar, poor Uncle Alphard must have a long list of people he hates,” the youngest muses aloud.
Sirius waves a dismissive hand. “Eh, who doesn’t, though?”
“That’s fair.”
Father’s gaze shift calculatingly between his sons. “I am pleased to see you heeded my counsel at the end of this summer, Sirius, and that you two have maturely set aside your differences. Your renewed commitment to your younger brother is commendable.”
“I didn't do it because you told me to!” Sirius rushes to clarify. “He’s my brother, my responsibility, and that will NEVER change... I want to make this very clear, Father. My loyalty to Regulus is mine and mine alone.”
Narcissa and Andromeda both sigh, and Regulus covers his face with his hands. Must his brother always be so argumentative?!
But Father doesn’t get mad; instead, he throws his head back and lets out a derisive bark of laughter. “The day I ever believe you did something simply because it was asked of you, Sirius, then you have my permission to check me into St. Mungo’s.”
“Alright, deal,” Sirius acquiesces with an embarrassed grin.
“Will there be anything else,” Father asks, cocking an eyebrow, “or am I allowed to get on with my day that now includes a visit to Alphard and possibly Bellatrix?”
Sirius’s eyes dart around, debating on something, and Regulus tenses, silently begging his brother to let Father leave on a high(ish) note.
But in what has to be a record showing for the quickest self-sabotage in history, he ruins everything with two words.
Notes:
What do you think Sirius said? I feel like it's pretty obvious, so house points to the most creative wrong answers :)
Also sorrrrrry for the cliffhanger, I love you guys, I swear! :)
...
(( I did just post a sequel to my one-shot fic 'all I see is you' called 'be alright'. It has more Jegulus, Wolfstar, and Black brother feels, and is more on the silly side, with only a splash of angst. I'm finalllly in the process of moving out of my apartment, yay... which means instead of focusing on that, my brain will do literally anything else because it's already been a nightmare. Sighhhh ))
Chapter 29: A Black Affair Part II
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“I’m gay.” Their father doesn’t say anything. Narcissa, Andromeda, and Regulus hardly breathe as they wait for the inevitable fallout. The long, uncomfortable silence drags on and on, until Sirius meekly adds, “Uh… heh, thought you oughta know.”
"No." Father’s eyes narrow. “You are not,” his voice drops to a whisper, “gay.”
“Yes, I am,” Sirius raises his voice on the last word, of course he does, “GAY.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“I can do this all day, Father.”
“Fine!” the older man cries. “Then, stop being like that right now... that's a direct order!”
“Yeah, see… that’s not how it works -”
“SIRIUS ORION, I SAID NO!” Although it's hardly perceptible, Sirius flinches at the bellowed words... a response Regulus highly doubts has anything to do with volume; Father NEVER uses their middle names when addressing them. “This is a joke, right? You love pulling pranks, if all the missives I receive from your professors are anything to go by. So, HA HA, very funny, I will be on my way now, good day.”
Sirius bristles at the brushoff. “You can’t pretend it doesn’t exist, Father!... That I, your gay son, do not exist!”
“Yeah? Watch me.”
Regulus attempts to stand up to defend his brother, to stand with him, but Sirius notices the movement in his peripheral vision; finally making due on his promise, he hits Regulus with a wandless, nonverbal Sticking Charm and a Silencing Spell, the bastard.
“Father,” Sirius says, his tone on the cusp of pleading.
Orion’s shoulders slump.
“Do you understand how your Mother is going to…" The older man shudders. "Oh Salazar, my Mother!” Dumbstruck, the four youngest Blacks watch in perplexed silence as the Head of their family paces wildly in the space between Regulus’s bed and the one next to him. “I'll never be able to show my face at a family function again -"
His brother's face crumples, understandably devastated by the cruelty of their father's rant, but in the blink of an eye, his aloof façade reappears. "Bit extreme, innit it?" Sirius drawls. "And you say I'm dramatic?! Pffft."
Orion Black doesn't react to his son's words, considering how agitated he is right now, I bet he didn't even hear Sirius. "Howlers everyday... relatives popping in unannounced... uncaring of the impropriety of it… gloating, so much gloating… the entire lot of them... will need to leave the country, start over somewhere else… no, no, they’ll follow, those smug… always need the last word… can’t hide out in the Muggle world… Gio’s associates are too savvy… but if they all think I’m dead… hmm, a possibility -”
"FATHER!" the Gryffindor-Black shouts, aghast. Never in his life has Regulus seen their father so rattled, not even when Sirius was kidnapped and several days passed before they discovered his whereabouts. It’s frightening! “Wait wait wait, hold up. Why would you fake your own death? You know Mother would never believe it, not unless she saw it herself.”
Finally, Regulus manages to stretch his arm out far enough to grab his wand off the side table next to his bed. It makes his next task marginally easier - he won’t be attempting wandless and nonverbal magic, only the latter.
Father nods sharply. “Excellent point, Sirius."
"I know."
"I should have thought of that..."
"Yes, you should have. But anywho, back to me -"
"How do you feel about patricide?”
What?!
Perhaps Sirius was onto something when he said Father was cursed.
“I FEEL BADLY ABOUT IT!” Sirius screeches, hands flailing wildly in the air. “LIKE ANY DECENT SON... ANY DECENT PERSON SHOULD?! And... and... and besides... isn't... ... shouldn't you... wouldn't it be easier to disown me and be done with it?”
It's moments like these that illustrate how truly awful Sirius would have done in Slytherin.
“No!” their cousins cry in unison.
To everyone’s surprise but her own, Narcissa leaps from her chair to stand next to Sirius. “If you disown him for being gay, despite the precedent that’s already been set, you can disown me, too.” She raises her chin, haughty and proud as ever. “I’m friends with a Muggleborn, and I’m not ashamed to admit it!”
Not one to be outdone, Andromeda shoulders the younger girl out of the way. “Disown me, too, because I’m dating one!”
Speechless, Narcissa gapes at her sister... until her innate sibling rivalry kicks in. “Yeah, well, I’m getting a job after graduation!”
"Oh no, not a job!" Andromeda melodramatically cries, pretending to cower behind Sirius. "Anything but that, say it isn't so!"
"Woooow, like you really -"
“I’m dating a Halfblood!” Sirius shouts back, butting into their bickering. “Who’s a…” he seems to reconsider whatever he planned to say, and awkwardly finishes with, “a Gryffindor.”
Father looks like he bit into a lemon. "And you're proud -"
“My boyfriend is a Hufflepuff,” Andromeda counters smugly. "And yes, Uncle, I am very proud. He's wonderful."
Narcissa doesn't allow the older man the chance to respond. “Remember the time when Sirius and his friends received a month's worth of detentions after 'pranking' Bella and her dormmates?"
Regulus almost cries when he releases his backside from his brother’s sticking charm.
Just one more spell left!
Brows furrowed together, the Black heir opens his mouth, "Which -" His eyes dart nervously towards Father. "Erm... refresh my memory? Don't recall doing anything to Bells and her ilk. Ever."
Talk about a bold-faced lie, sheesh!
Bella was his second-favorite target, with Severus being the first.
"The one where their hair fell out." The blonde's smirk radiates self-satisfaction. “That was courtesy of moi.”
“WHAT?!” Sirius shrieks, holding a hand over his heart. “WELL, IT'S NO WONDER I DON'T REMEMBER IT, HUH?!!! I'll have you know, I got my arse kicked for that when I got home!”
Father’s lips drop into the teeniest of frowns...
She shrugs, untroubled. “You probably deserved it for something else.”
... they return to a straight line.
“Yeah?! Well, last year I got a little tipsy during a party in the Common Room -” With scathing laughter, Narcissa and Andromeda coo about ‘baby Siri having his first big boy drink’, ha, sucks doesn't it, brother?! “And on the way to the kitchens for a snack, I bumped into Lucius. We chatted for a bit, and then I told him he should leave Cissa for me because we would make babies with better hair!"
Andromeda pretends to look scandalized... actually, that might be genuine. “You are a floozy, cousin!”
“Clearly, Lucius knew the better choice,” Narcissa declares, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder.
“Debatable,” Sirius scoffs, twirling his raven locks around his finger. “He thought I was joking, but believe me, I was very serious.”
As their cousins groan over the overused joke, Father loudly clears his throat. “If you are all through -”
The youngest Black jumps to his feet.
“I HEAR VOICES IN MY HEAD!” Regulus cries, unintentionally screaming it because he didn’t feel the spell lift. Of fucking course, once he finally complies with the voice’s request to, 'tell them about me, it's time they all knew', Andromeda removes the Silencing Charm his brother had cast on him. “Well, one voice, really.”
Sirius and Father exchange a glance, they've previously talked about how crazy they think I am, haven't they?... Oh, Regulus wants to be mad about it, he really, really does. But since it appears as if they're onto something, he hasn't got much leg to stand on.
“It's comforting to hear," the patriarch pinches the bridge of his nose, "that at least one of you possesses the ability to think!"
Attempting to explain himself more clearly, Regulus shamefully confesses, “It tells me to do bad things... dangerous things."
“The important thing is you don’t listen to the voice, brother," Sirius says matter-of-factly. "That's what counts."
... except I do, even though I should know better by now.
“We all experience that, Regulus," Narcissa says with a supportive smile. Although, he very much doubts that, he holds his tongue. Who is he to spit on someone exhibiting proper manners? "You're not alone... also, you did an excellent job with your nonverbal magic!”
Whatever, he’ll try again another time.
“Ted and I are planning to marry after graduation." Andromeda crosses her arms over her chest, as if she won their 'competition'. “So, apologies, Uncle Orion, but I will not be marrying that swine, Larson Travers."
Oh, thank Merlin, Morgana, and the whole Hogwarts lot for that!
From Regulus's point of view, the math is simple -
Muggleborn Ted Tonks >>>>>>>>> Pureblood Larson Travers.
Under the impression that it’s ‘now or never', Regulus says, “I am also gay." He glares at his scowling brother. “And I’m not lying to support Sirius, either!"
In a rather undignified manner, Father plops down onto the bed opposite Regulus’s; evidently, he's accepted that he’s in for the long haul.
Narcissa clears her throat. “It was I who killed Sirius’s rabbit when we were kids, not Bella.” Both brothers gasp at the admission. “It was an accident, I swear it! I thought Nemesis might want some fresh air, so while you all were finishing up your lessons, I took her into the garden with me. But Mother’s owl saw us from the owlery and…” Trailing off, she blinks rapidly, her eyes looking suspiciously wet. “I’m so sorry, cousin. I know how much she meant to you.”
“To this day, I am still deeply saddened by the loss,” Sirius murmurs, bowing his head. “However, if you say it was unintentional, I believe you. Andddd I’m sure Bella did something else to deserve my retribution.
“Oh, undoubtedly,” Andromeda agrees breezily.
Fiddling with the silver trident ring on his finger, Regulus drops his gaze to the floor. “I... I failed Divination last year."
Father already knows, having contacted Slughorn directly to remove Regulus from the class; in its place, he enrolled in Care of Magical Creatures, go figure. In comparison to the other subjects taught at Hogwarts, Divination was an imprecise branch of magic. Usually, Regulus hates anything that's vague, inexact, and/or unfixed, but he'd always been intrigued by it, imagine being able to tell the future, wouldn't that be useful! Prior to the start of his third year, Regulus was required to choose a minimum of two electives. His parents balked at the idea of him taking anything besides Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. However, since Sirius was already enrolled in Divination, Regulus proposed a compromise - like his brother, he'd take three elective classes, instead of two. They reluctantly permitted him to enroll.
On the morning their exam results arrived, by the time Regulus trudged downstairs, still half asleep, Sirius was back in his bedroom, writing a flurry of missives to brag about his achievements (his brother then had the gall to ask if he could borrow Persephone to lessen the load for 'old man, Loki'. Obviously, Regulus said no, 'Our owls are literally twins, Sirius'... 'Loki hatched first, or have you forgotten? Tsk, tsk, Reggie, what an awful Owl Dad you are. Regardless, it's not like you have any friends to send letters to, so how about you allow Persephone a chance to spread her wings by delivering my mail?' Again, Regulus refused, but low and behold, the next day, Persephone was nowhere to be found. Reappearing a few days later, despite his vehement claims of treachery and subterfuge, the incident was dismissed as an 'unsanctioned, but desperately needed vacation', all because he had no 'proof' that his brother did anything... Regulus did not sulk for days, he was merely plotting the revenge he never got a chance to act on).
Opening his results, Regulus knew it was going to be bad, he just didn't realize how bad. His almost perfect straight O's were inconsequential, not when he had that disgraceful 'T' marring his record. Unintentionally ignoring Mother's inquiry about how he did, she plucked the parchment out of his hand to see for herself; Regulus braced himself for the inevitable scathing remarks, but none came. Her brows furrowed, like she was perplexed by what she was reading (which was fair), and then she wordlessly handed the results to Father, who... Regulus must have been mistaken. The stress of it all induced a brief hallucination, that's the only possible explanation. Because why would Father smile?
One thing was certain, though - neither of his parents reprimanded him for the appalling grade, something Regulus was both extremely grateful for and immensely baffled by. The Black patriarch simply said, "I'll write Horace at once to remove you from that useless class." Peering critically at her youngest son over her teacup, Mother clicked her tongue, then flippantly remarked to her husband, "Care of Magical Creatures is more his strong suit anyways, Orion, demand he be allowed to switch into that." Choked by a mess of fear, anxiety, guilt, and shame, Regulus could only nod and whisper his thanks.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, little star.” Understanding how awful his younger brother feels to do poorly in anything academic, Sirius squeezes his shoulder. “That class is a load of codswallop, you’re much better off without it.” With a tight-lipped smile, appreciative of the support, Regulus forgoes pointing out the incorrectness of that statement. “And don’t believe anyone who tells you Seeing runs in the family, that’s one of those weird rumors, I don’t know where it started.”
"How it originated, I do not know either," Orion says, his tone dripping with scorn, "though I have reason to believe it was propagated by the combined efforts of Alphard, who always loved his little jokes, and Cygnus, who was notorious for running betting pools on anything and everything whilst at Hogwarts. Peculiarly, once that rumor began circulating throughout the school, Cygnus's profits soared."
"Uncle Cygnus has a gambling addiction?" Side-eyeing their cousins, Sirius deadpans, "... shocking."
"'Addiction' is a tad extreme, but I better not catch either of you squandering your allowance by partaking in such an unsavory hobby!"
"Yes, Father," the brothers mutter in unison, lowering their gazes.
"Ahem." With a nervous glance at Sirius, Andromeda confesses, “I snogged Frank Longbottom when we were kids.”
“This day gets worse and worse!” the Gryffindor bemoans, until he suddenly perks up. “Was it any good? Or was it horrible? Why only once? Or was it multiple times? When your lips touched, did fireworks go off in the background? Did it set your bones aflame, igniting your soul with the embers, did it feel like every part of you that came from a dead star was suddenly alive again?... Come on, Andie, a bloke needs to know!”
Regulus shares a mortified look with Father, bloody hell, Sirius really needs to lay off the romance novels!
“A proper lady does not kiss and tell,” their cousin answers primly.
Sirius grumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, ‘Proper lady, my arse.’ Louder, he asks, “Remember that series of unfortunate events that happened to Daniel Hillhawk a few years back?”
“You were behind it all, weren't you?” In her eagerness, Narcissa leans forward, getting right in Sirius's face. "Even though you denied every bit of it, I knew better, I KNEW it had to be you! No one else is that dedicated to pettiness, no one."
"Why yes, thank you for noticing!" Sirius boops the blonde on the nose, then quickly (and smartly) takes a large step backwards.
Andromeda scoffs. “I'm telling you, Cissa, there’s no way a second-year did all of that by himself! Now, a squad of baby lions? Much more believable.”
"Actually, 'baby lions' are more commonly referred to as cubs or lionets," Regulus explains, remiss to allow his cousin to live her life with incorrect information. "And a group of male lions is called a coalition, so technically -"
“And this is a prime example of why you shouldn't be allowed unrestricted access to the library." Sirius smiles innocently when Regulus hisses in outrage, why would he give Father an idea like that?! "To answer your question, ladies, yes, I did have a Partner-In-Pranking.” Given Andromeda’s triumphant grin and Narcissa’s scowl, money will definitely be exchanging hands later. “But it wasn’t my friends who helped.” The brunette’s face falls at the admission. “It was... erm... 'twas actually Bella.”
“WHAT?!” the other three Blacks cry. Even Father looks intrigued by the reveal (for perspective, Sirius and Bellatrix get on only slightly better than Sirius and Mother do).
Sirius waves a hand dismissively. “It’s a long story, but basically, Bella got wind of what Hillhawk was saying about Regulus.” Wait, what?! He's not sure he wants to know what that ignorant oaf was saying about him. “And she approached me, correctly assuming I would be in the midst of plotting revenge. Originally, we agreed on one retaliatory act, but then since it went so well, we kind of just,” he shrugs, embarrassed, “kept going until the end of the year.”
Looking back, Regulus vaguely recalls hearing about a Gryffindor who was constantly in and out of the Hospital Wing for a variety of ailments. But something doesn’t add up...
“Pardon, but when this boor said absolutely despicable and vile things about you, in front of Frank Longbottom, you merely… punched him in the face, one time, and then moved on? I confess, I do not understand why you would willingly team up with Bella for months just to defend my honor, especially when we were not on good terms!”
“I would never tolerate someone saying such deplorable things about any of you!” Sirius growls, looking at Regulus and their cousins in turn. “Not even about Bella!”
Andromeda gently pats his cheek. “You did the noble thing, Sirius.”
“I'm quite impressed… not only did you two not get caught by the faculty, but your unprecedented cooperation was kept a secret, even from us.” Fidgeting with the promise ring Lucius presented her when he graduated, Narcissa heaves a sigh. “Well, I suppose this is the part where I confess that I cursed Lockhart to have bouts of significant hair loss off and on for a year, after he kept prattling on about how he didn’t understand why everyone thought Sirius had such nice hair when his was ‘obviously better’.”
Sirius’s eyes well with tears. “You... you did that for me?”
“I guess I technically did it for you,” the blonde says, unable to meet his gaze. “Mostly, I did it for me.”
Andromeda smirks. "On that note, I hexed McLaggen's teeth to fall out a few years ago when I overheard him calling Sirius a slag. Which yes, I predominantly did for me."
"I knew you two secretly loved me!" the Black heir beams, causing their cousins to frown and Father to roll his eyes. "Like very, very deep down, but still, it's there."
With that, Regulus’s little brother instincts kick in. “This has been weighing on me for months now…" He exhales dramatically. "But I had a tiny crush on Sirius’s boyfriend last year.”
Tiny is an understatement, but Sirius doesn’t need to know that. Tucked away in an obscure section of the library, Lupin stumbled upon Regulus in the throes of a downward spiral after receiving another ‘T’ on a Divination assignment. In spite of their rocky history, he kindly offered the Slytherin an encouraging pep talk, and if Regulus’s snarky underhanded comments bothered him, he didn't let on. When the older boy left, Regulus realized he did feel better. From that moment on, he’d been a tad smitten with Lupin, who was actually a rather good-looking bloke with his oversized sweaters, honeyed voice, and mysterious scars across his body (that were occasionally visible depending on the weather). His attractiveness was easy to overlook though, because he was always surrounded by Regulus’s handsome, aristocratic-looking brother, and James Potter, who was as dazzling as he was irritating. But it quickly became another example of how the Fates love to mock him; paying the older Gryffindor more attention led to the discovery of Sirius and Lupin’s infatuation with one another. And while he wasn't on good terms with his brother at the time, Regulus is neither petty nor vindictive enough to attempt to ‘steal’ his brother’s boyfriend.
Sirius recoils back in horror. “No! Godric be good, please tell me Remus wasn’t your gay awakening, Reg!!!”
“He was not.” Deep breath in, slow exhale out. “It was James Potter.” Multiple gleeful squeals follow this pronouncement, why must I suffer this way? Regulus raises his voice to be heard over them. “Who I am going to court, if that’s alright -”
Father throws his hands in the air. “Is one of you finally asking my permission before engaging in these -”
“You really don’t have a rebellious bone in your body, do you?” Sirius guffaws, cutting Father off.
“If that’s alright with Potter,” Regulus corrects with an apologetic wince towards the elder Black. “Sorry, sir.”
“Did not expect that…” Sirius mutters under his breath.
"A sentiment we share," Father huffs.
Angling his body in front of his cousins and younger brother, Sirius brazenly meets the Black patriarch's gaze. “If you blast even one of them off the tapestry but not me, understand, Father, I’ll do it myself. I swear on everything and anything, you will lose your heir... both of them, because I will be taking Regulus with me, just so we're clear."
"And should Regulus choose not to go with you?"
"Oh, he's going," his brother says in the sort of tone that affirms Regulus has absolutely zero choice in the matter, sigh.
“And just so we're clear... you stand by your cousins and brother as they betray our ways?" Father asks, expression unreadable. "As they desecrate our traditions, and spit on the values passed down through our noble lineage?”
Sirius nods firmly. “Rather dramatic way of putting it, but I do stand with them, and not just because I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t. I may never understand their choices, and I might not like certain decisions they make, but I support all three of them. It’s their lives, what say do I have in it if they aren’t harming anyone…” he notices Father’s cocked eyebrow, “who doesn’t deserve it?”
Silence follows. Orion Black assesses the four of them, his eyes severe in their scrutiny. They meet his gaze head-on, standing proud and tall, exactly as they were taught from the moment they could lift themselves off the ground. It’s somewhat easier, knowing they’re together in this; Regulus cannot fathom how Sirius has found the strength time and time again to stand by himself against their parents, the way he's always done so before today.
Quick as lightning, Father’s hand darts out to grab his eldest son’s wrist. Sirius’s mask remains firmly in place as the Black family ring, the one that Grandfather gifted him years ago when he received his Hogwarts letter, is removed from his finger. But the brightness in his eyes dims, like all the fight has been drained out of him. It’s wrong, completely unnatural, Sirius is ALWAYS ready to fight, always has something left within him. Even when he should give up, he doesn't... until now, this can’t be happening, please, please let this be just another bad dream.
Regulus’s breath hitches when he's presented with the heirloom, his brother’s ring, the same one he used to dream of owning back when he and Sirius were at odds.
Now, the very concept makes him sick.
Taking advantage of his shock, Father slides the ring onto his youngest son’s finger, on the opposite hand of the silver trident ring. Regulus doesn’t chuck it across the room like he wants to, but he does maneuver himself in front of his brother.
“I’m gay, too.” Taking it off, Regulus holds the ring out to the older man. “So, you can have this back, Fa-Orion.” Not Father, not anymore. “I stand with my family.”
The Black patriarch rolls his eyes, and to their collective confusion, pushes it back to his youngest son. “Regulus.”
“Yes?” he asks warily.
“You think I didn't know that before today?"
WHAT?!
No, no... he must have misheard.
"Apologies, sir, but if you could please clarify -"
"Regulus, everyone in the family called that years ago... on the off-chance you're still playing dumb, I'm referring to your sexuality, of course.” The four younger Blacks stare in silent shock at the Black patriarch... again. "And when I say everyone, I mean everyone, Ignatius included." Dear Merlin, what the fuck?! Uncle Iggy, Aunt Lucretia's husband, is notoriously unobservant - it's a running joke in their family that the world could be ending, and no matter how bad it got, he wouldn't notice a single thing was off until his wife told him. “You, though," Father points an accusing finger at his firstborn, "do you understand how smug your mother and grandmother are going to be?”
Andromeda, Narcissa, and Regulus all shrug when he glances at them for help. “Er... no?"
“Don’t stutter, you didn’t recently almost die!” Orion mocks.
Sirius makes a face. "Okay one, no need for the sass. And two... aren't they always on the smug side of the spectrum? Isn't that their whole schtick? That the women should run the family, they're better than us men folk, yada yada yada."
Gray eyes frantically scan the room; it's eerily reminiscent of the way Potter acted when Regulus made a disparaging comment about his brother, then added 'isn't he?' to the end of his sentence. "You think I'm stupid enough to agree with you, boy?! I've warned you -"
"I swear, if you tell me 'the walls have ears' again, I'm having you committed to St. Mungo's, sir." Father and son glare heatedly at each other, until eventually, Sirius mutters, "What in particular are they going to be smug about this time around?"
"Since you clearly don’t understand the dilemma, I'll lay it out for you - they will be unbearable! I can hear it now.” He alters his voice until it’s an uncanny, highly unsettling, mimicry of Grandmother Melania’s. “Do you not know your son at all, Orion? What kind of father are you? Of course that oldest of yours is homosexual, have you not seen how fussy he is about his looks? I have no doubt your father is rolling in his grave right now… you bring nothing but shame and disgrace to the Black name!’”
Sirius chews on his bottom lip, a rare showing of a childish bad habit that signifies just how unnerved he is. “I mean… she’s not wrong, but I... I feel like I should still be offended?"
“I spent the last decade digging my own grave by swearing you were heterosexual!” Father hisses. “What of your womanizing reputation?! The French girls I caught you with? Are you sure -"
“Father, based on your knowledge of me, your son, what else might I be doing in the girls' dorm other than… those icky sorts of things?” Sirius shudders. “And yes, I'm 100% sure I'm into blokes and only blokes. Now, there were times I tried to be normal -”
“Ha!” Andromeda snorts in a rather undignified way. “Your abnormality has nothing to do with your sexuality, trust me.”
With a weighty sigh, Father tugs a ring off his own finger. “Yes, my mother has pointed out to me many times what you were likely doing there, though I did not heed her words.” He offers it to his eldest son. “This was meant to be yours after my father passed, but I did not believe you wanted it, nor did I think you deserved it.”
Blinking owlishly, Sirius doesn't reach for the ring. “But that one is yours? You’ve had it for as long as I can remember.” His eyes narrow. "Oh, lemme guess. You're trying to pawn it off on me, aren't you? Cuz what, you don't want it anymore? Ooh, I'm telling Grandfather!"
"Yeah?" So impressive how Father can lace one word with that much sarcasm. "And how do you plan on doing that, son?"
"Let's just say, I know a guy," the Gryffindor-Black declares pompously.
"Are we supposed to pretend like that doesn't sound shady as hell?" Narcissa 'whispers' to her sister.
“It’s the ring the heir wears,” Regulus murmurs, understanding the significance now; he’s not disowning Sirius, or pawning off unwanted jewelry on him. He’s reaffirming his claim as heir apparent. Regulus glances down at his own slimmer ring. “And this is the one for the next in line?”
Father inclines his head. "You will provide invaluable counsel to your brother when he becomes Head of the family, Regulus... seeing as how you're the only one with a lick of intelligence between the two of you."
"Well now, that's mean!" When the Black patriarch takes a step closer, Sirius shoves his hands into his pockets. “But on that note, you see, I uh… I don’t understand?”
“Have you forgotten your lessons on the family hierarchy?”
“Pfft, I couldn't even if I wanted to... and trust me, I've tried. But you’re… aren’t you mad?”
“I disagree with nearly everything the four of you said. I do not like, nor support, these improper ways you’ve chosen to conduct yourselves.” They all nod, because that’s what they expected. “However, none of the older members in our family have ever united together like I’ve seen or heard today. I did not defend my sister when she refused to have children, nor did Walburga stand with her own brother when she might have… in fact, it was my father who refused to blast Alphard from the tree when word of his inclinations got out.”
“So, by that logic,” Sirius scrunches his nose, “wouldn’t she want to blast both Reg and I off?”
“Sirius, don’t be daft.” Father counts off each point on his finger. “One, she can’t unless she wants to doom our direct line to dying out. We are much too old to start over.” They’re really not, but Regulus keeps his opinion to himself. “Two, she didn’t care that Alphard preferred wizards, she only cared that he refused to have offspring, but regardless, my point is that she didn’t say anything in his defense. And three, Walburga would blast every single one of us off, myself included, before disowning her pride and joy -"
“Understandable.” Sirius pinches both of Regulus's cheeks, laughing when the younger squawks at the sudden pain and indignity of it all. “My baby brother is pretty damn close to perfect.”
Father frowns. “Regulus is my favorite.”
The youngest Black perks up at that. Is he really?
Don’t be stupid, Father’s just trying to nettle Sirius, he ruefully reminds himself.
“Hmmph, at least Uncle Alphard likes me best.”
“Is he always so dense?” Father asks his youngest.
Regulus half-shrugs. “He has his moments.”
“Oi! I am standing right here.”
“You’re Aunt Walburga’s favorite by a landslide,” Narcissa snaps. “If Travers had pushed you into the lake, even if you could swim, she would have removed him from this world before the end of the night.”
Andromeda tilts her head to the side in consideration. “Before the start of dinner, come on, Cissa, Auntie has more skill than that.”
“Well, yes, I’m the heir -”
“We have another son, Sirius!” Father growls, patience running thin… his brother can be horrendously thick-headed when he wants to be, so Regulus understands the frustration. “Who is much better behaved and immeasurably less mouthy, might I add. Yet your Mother, in spite of all the trouble and shame you’ve caused us in your fifteen years of life, spends an inordinate amount of time bragging to anyone and everyone, myself included, about how magnificent her firstborn is.”
“But -”
“And there are no ulterior motives,” Father interjects, causing Sirius to deflate as his argument is taken from him. “Other than making whoever she’s talking to feel inferior, especially if they have children of their own. After you two left for the train station, she drove Madam Yaxley to tears during their lunch date... I’m sure the woman’s poor sons received multiple letters in the last few weeks detailing their extensive failings!”
“But -”
“Why is she so harsh with you?” Father guesses correctly, at least if Sirius’s canine-like growl is anything to go by. “She wants you to follow the family precedent, but -”
Without thinking of the repercussions, Regulus interrupts the patriarch. “Mother respects that you are a leader, not a follower… she only wishes you would espouse different ideals, ones similar to those we learned growing up.”
That knowledge isn’t ‘assumed’ either. It's fact.
Regulus unintentionally overheard it last year when their family gathered after Grandfather Arcturus’s funeral. Unwilling to bother Kreacher, who he knew would be serving the adults in the drawing room, Regulus had gone downstairs to get a snack from the kitchens. It was apparent by the uncharacteristic noise and chatter coming from the cracked-open doorway that many of the members of the Black family were heavily drunk by that point.
As he was creeping passed the room, he heard someone, Uncle Cygnus perhaps, remark how ‘it was such a shame Regulus wasn’t born first, he’d make a better heir than Sirius, no offense meant, of course’.
Commotion followed the pronouncement. A handful of agreements rang out, while others took the speaker to task for disrespecting the heir apparent of their most noble name. But Regulus will never forget Mother’s derisive laugh, her words spoken loudest of all - ‘My first born might appear to be recalcitrant, yes, he may not exude our family’s ideas, at least for now… but he is no sheep, no follower, not like his brother, who’s never had an independent thought of his own in his entire life. No, I assure you, Sirius will lead us into a new reign of greatness.’
Regulus scurried away at that point, aggravated, hurt, and so unbearably frustrated. His entire life, he tried and tried to be the perfect son; once it became clear his brother wanted nothing to do with their family, Regulus doubled, no, tripled his efforts... only for Sirius to still be prized above him?! It was madness! More than anything in the world, Regulus had wanted to storm into the room and scream the truth in Mother's face - Sirius would NEVER follow their Pureblood ideals, he would NEVER revere the Dark Arts like they were taught to, he was different, and he would stay that way, no matter how hard she tried to ‘fix’ him. That 'independent' quality Mother lauded her firstborn for? It was literally the reason she'd never be able to control him, how could she not see that?!
The second reason Mother is so harsh with her eldest, well... that is assumed.
It's a theory Regulus formulated after years of watching contentious family disputes and an opinion that he would die before ever sharing with anyone, his brother included; Orion Black was a formidable wizard who wouldn't be cowed by the fiercest of foes… unless that ‘foe’ was Grandmother Melania, his own mother, who he nearly always yields to. So in one corner, Walburga Black has a impertinent firstborn who mouths off and defies his mother at every turn, and in the opposite, she’s married to the Head of the Black family, a man who never speaks back to his own mother, who always bows to her whims, even now when he (in theory) has the utmost authority in all familial matters. Admittedly, Regulus does feel for Mother on that front.
"So, since Mother agrees that I'm awesome... which I am, so I'm thrilled to hear she's in line with the truth, does that mean she'll accept me marrying a bloke?" Sirius finally takes his 'new' ring from Father, though he doesn't put it on yet. "And for love?"
"You're inquiring as to whether or not your mother will permit you, the eventual Head of our family and her firstborn son, to marry a man... a man she didn't choose?! You're out of your damn mind, Sirius -"
"Cuz my boyfriend is hot, smarter than smart, and literally the greatest bloke out there, so I WILL be putting a different sort of ring on his finger in the next few years, regardless of what she thinks -"
"Lupin can't be all that smart if he says 'yes', though, huh?" Narcissa quips to her sister, who tells her to hush... but Andromeda can't hide her smile fast enough.
The Black patriarch's expression becomes thoughtful. "Well, you might manage to swing the bloke part. Ironically, the closest my generation has ever come to being 'united' over a cause was when it became evident Regulus was following in Alphard's footsteps."
"Pardon?!" Regulus gasps.
"Although," Father continues, ignoring his youngest's outburst, "it was my own father who spearheaded the campaign to, ah... encourage lawmakers to pass legislation clarifying inheritance laws within those types of family structures. And in recent years, your grandmother has surreptitiously been collecting names of potential male suitors for your brother. So, to answer your question, Sirius, it's not likely -"
"Remus saved Regulus's life."
"... maybe Walburga will accept it." He shrugs. "Maybe she won't. But that's not my business, and I will be staying the hell out of it."
"You can't 'stay the hell out of it', Father!" the Gryffindor cries. "It most certainly is your business, are you serious -"
"No," Father interrupts. "I'm Orion. You are Sirius."
Sirius looks like he's about to self-combust after having his favorite joke wielded against him.
"THAT IS NOT FUNNY -"
Exuding smugness, Father purrs, "I'm pleased to see you've finally accepted the truth."
"The truth is that it doesn't matter what Mother thinks! All I need to do is convince Grandmother it's a worthwhile union -"
Regulus hurriedly interjects before Sirius can pick another fight. "I didn't know all of that was going on... umm, that's very kind of everyone, to care so much." And MASSIVELY unexpected, this is a dream, this is a dream... a pleasant, albeit odd one, but a dream nonetheless. "I appreciate it."
"I should hope you appreciate it! It's been a joint effort, so of course there's been spots of contention. At least a dozen of our relatives have added a name to the list." The imagery alone might kill Regulus where he stands; he can easily picture all of the adults gathered in the drawing room of Black Manor, like they're taking part in some sort of Pureblood book club. Except instead of trading literary titles, they're trading names of gay wizards for their youngest to someday marry. "Although, the primary contributors are your mother, my mother, Alphard, Giovanni, and," he winces, "Cassiopeia."
"Did she try them out for herself first?" his brother mutters, sharing a disgusted look with Narcissa.
"I did not ask," Father says dryly. "And if you had any sense, you would not continue with that train of thought, unless you wished to inflict permanent mental scars upon yourself!"
"And others," Narcissa says, sticking her tongue out at Sirius when Father isn't looking.
"Okay, but we all know how Reggie is... what if he never confessed his preference for wizards? Which is actually something I didn't know about until like two weeks ago, so I dunno how you lot figured it out before me!"
How has ANYONE - his cousins, his friends, his other relatives - figured it out?! That's what Regulus would like to know!
"Please, you didn't figure anything out, cousin!" Andromeda scoffs. "Regulus told you outright."
Sirius grumbles under his breath, "Same difference."
"You are exceptionally narrow-minded, Sirius, so it does not shock me in the slightest to hear you were unable to discern the truth about your brother." Father holds a hand up when Sirius angrily opens his mouth. "When it comes to Regulus, I mean. From the moment he was born, you placed him upon a pedestal. In your eyes, your 'little star' can do nothing wrong... he is faultless, flawless, aromantic and asexual, a living doll, custom-made just for you."
"That is SUPER weird and EXTREMELY icky sounding, and absolutely NOT true -"
At least Sirius is good about caring for his toys, Regulus thinks wryly to himself. What an odd description... he's not sure how he feels about it, but evidently, Father isn't alone in his sentiment.
"Mmm... it kinda is, actually," Andromeda murmurs, head tilted to the side. Narcissa nods in agreement. "An interesting way to put it, but definitely valid."
"No doll is as sassy as my little brother!"
Father snorts. "That's karma for how mouthy you are to us. Now, as for what would have happened had Regulus not confessed?" His expression becomes shrewd when he looks at his eldest son. "You know how the women in our family are, son. They would have told him he was gay... probably during his engagement dinner to whichever wizard made the final cut."
Salazar, how humiliating! He's weirdly thankful Sirius decided to randomly blurt out his own sexuality, as it's sure made Regulus's life less stressful (for now). But... who's on this list? Are they all terrible? Does anyone actually know that these wizards are gay, or are they speculating?
"Who's on the list?" Sirius asks, going to need to revisit the concept that he's learned Legilimency at some point... it's either that, or we're both equally as nosy.
"Your Grandmother just heard back from Augusta, so -"
Nope, nopenopenope, absolutely NOT. I'd marry a woman before I'd marry my brother's idol.
'Accidentally' jostling Regulus to the side, Sirius stands uncomfortably close to Father. "Augusta Longbottom? You're telling me Frank Longbottom is the number one choice for Reggie to marry?!"
"Last I heard, yes, that is the case."
"Isn't he dating a girl?" Narcissa whispers to Andromeda, who shrugs.
"Father." The Gryffindor places his hands on the older man's shoulders, staring unblinkingly into his eyes. "Frank Longbottom is too old for Regulus, much too old, it would be improper. He is, however, significantly closer to my age -"
"You're not even a full two years older than your brother, Sirius."
"And I think a union between us would be... wait a 'mo, you're pulling my leg, aren't you?"
Lips quirking up in the corners, the Black patriarch hums, "Indeed. I thought you were marrying this boyfriend of yours, though? Has your love already died out? How sad..."
"And they wonder why I have trust issues?!" Ever-dramatic, Sirius throws himself onto Regulus's cot with a groan. "You wouldn't understand about Frank, Father, so I won't waste time explaining it."
"You claim to have trust issues, yet you're still so incredibly gullible."
"Yeah, yeah. Who's Reggie gonna marry, for real?"
"The top spot currently is Evan Rosier," Regulus smiles; platonically, he'd love to marry Evan, they'd have a great life together. "There's also Corban Yaxley, Vallis Bulstrode, Octavius Flint," ew, ew, and ew, "one of the Prewett twins," oh?! "Justin Fawley -"
Regulus sucks in a sharp breath, oh Merlin, oh Merlin, I am so not worthy... wait, can't say that, because Sirius is right, Father wouldn't understand, and I have no desire to listen to another lecture about how wonderful Blacks are in comparison to everyone else. "Justin is pretty much already married, unfortunately. Er... could perhaps, if they'd be willingly, do you think -
While he can't get all the words out, it doesn't seem to matter. Father knows what he's trying to ask, regardless.
"You could do much better than a Potter, Regulus Arcturus, have some self respect!"
His shoulders slump, should have expected that... and even if my family agrees, I highly doubt the Potters would.
"Oi, James is LOADS better than Fawley," Sirius cries, sitting up so he can scowl at their father.
The youngest Black chuckles awkwardly. "Heh, let's not exaggerate, now."
"In fact, James is better than every bloke on that list -"
"Including Frank Longbottom?"
"Frank's not on the list."
"But if he was?"
"James Potter is from a respectable Pureblood family, financially secure, intelligent, and objectively handsome," Narcissa says matter-of-factly, sparing Sirius from having to answer. "He's also popular and great at socializing, so he could provide invaluable assistance to Regulus in that regard." The most humiliating part of that statement? How true it is. "Plus, I've heard he's the top candidate to be Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain next year, which will give us an idea of how he handles a leadership role. After years of careful observation," why has she been observing him so closely?!, "I am of the opinion they'd be a great match."
Andromeda playfully pinches the younger Slytherin's cheek. "And adding to that, he's positively smitten with Regulus, which exemplifies superb taste."
Wearily, Father rubs a hand over his face. "Fine, fine. I will inquire about having his name added to the list, but I make no promises!"
"Thank you," Regulus struggles to contain his wide smile, nothing is guaranteed, don't get ahead of yourself. "All of you."
Nose raised haughtily in the air, Sirius sniffs, "Remus and I are a fantastic match, too. Regulus said we were soulmates, didn't you, Reg?"
"Oh, yes, they're absolutely perfect for each other, Father," the youngest Black eagerly agrees. After everything his brother has done and continues to do for him, the LEAST Regulus can do is speak highly of his union with Lupin, Halfblood or not. "And since they've been close friends for years, it means Sirius's boyfriend knows precisely what he's getting into by dating my brother, yet he still wishes to pursue a relationship."
"Gee, thanks," Sirius grumbles, at the same time Father murmurs, "Well, that is something, isn't it?"
"From what I can presume from Uncle Orion's earlier comments, most, if not all, of the elders are already aware of Sirius's sexuality?" Andromeda interjects, and Father nods (begrudgingly) in confirmation. "So, given the efforts put in to find Regulus a husband, that acceptance should stand for Sirius too, yes?"
"And ironically, because he would be in a same-sex partnership," Narcissa continues, picking up where her sister left off, "when it comes time to expand the family line, his spawn... pardon, offspring, doesn't have to be a mix of his and Lupin's genetics, not if they choose a different method for procreation. As long as they find a witch with an acceptable pedigree who's willing to act as their surrogate, I personally don't see the problem with him marrying Lupin."
That's actually a really good point, especially if Regulus's hunch about Lupin's 'illness' is right, Merlin, and if it is, I hope no one in the family ever finds out about it... I'm not even sure Grandmother would be alright with her grandson marrying a werewolf and raising a family with him. And she ADORES Matthias.
Sirius frowns. "But... but I want our babies to be a mix of me and Remus, oh, they'd be so adorable! And I know that potion exists, so you can't convince me otherwise!"
"I'd prefer them to be all of Lupin and zero percent you," Narcissa mutters, shooting the Black heir a disparaging look. "Maybe then they'd be tolerable."
"As much as it pains me to say it, I think a lot of the girls in Slytherin would leap for the chance to have a baby with Sirius," Andromeda adds, successfully distracting her Gryffindor cousin from his glaring contest with her sister. "And dozens of others would agree merely for the money. He'd have his pick of Pureblood women, I'm sure of it."
"That... we wouldn't have to do it, right?" Sirius asks, looking nauseous. "To make a baby?"
The two girls exchange the briefest of glances, and then Andromeda croons, "Would you not sacrifice your pride for a wondrous life with your beloved?"
"It has nothing to do with pride!" he shrieks, skin flushing crimson.
Orion's eyes narrow. "Just how long have you been seeing this boy for this to be a relevant discussion? Last I checked, you were only fifteen, Sirius!"
"If I had to guess," Narcissa responds, her expression perfectly blank, "I'd say... mmm, about an hour and a half, maybe two?"
"Regulus," Father's eyes drift from his straight-faced nieces, to his grimacing youngest son, "is this true?"
"Erm... technically, yes?" Regulus squeaks. "But! But they've been in love with each other for years, they just finally got their shite together, oops, pardon my language. Father, they're perfect for each other, I swear, they're soulmates, forever partners -"
Father's gaze lands on his blushing firstborn. "Sirius," he says coldly. In spite of the unattractive coloring staining his skin, the Black heir raises his chin. Father and son stare at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time, before eventually, the older man deflates. "I will keep your cousins' and brother's remarks in mind. Although, when you come home for the Christmas holidays, perhaps you can take a look at the list your grandmother has compiled -"
"I'd love to!... cuz I'm nosy," Sirius says with absolutely no shame, "but not because I'm interested in a relationship with anyone other than my Remus." Taking pity on their father, he pats his arm consolingly. "I'll tell Grandmother about it, so you don't have to. And once I've received her approval, I'll tell Mother, too."
"Splendid!" Orion Black claps his firstborn on the shoulder. "Best of luck to you, son, because you will need it. And, with that, it's long past time for me to depart... Sirius, look after your brother."
Forever obnoxious, the Gryffindor salutes the patriarch. "Yessir!"
"And Regulus, make sure your brother stays out of trouble."
"I'll do my best," Regulus sighs, that's an impossible assignment if there ever was one.
"While you're at it, do your best to keep him from bringing anymore shame to the family name than he already has -"
"Great talk, Father." The Gryffindor smiles insincerely. "Thanks for coming, owl if you need any ideas for revenge."
"Oh, and another thing -"
"Bye bye, now."
Like his headstrong firstborn, Father isn't so easily deterred. "If any of you ever tell a soul, living or dead, either outright or by suggestion, that I had knowledge of these shameful behaviors -"
"KREACHER!" Sirius calls, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest. Seconds later, the house elf pops into the Hospital Wing. "Father is ready to go home now."
Orion Black doesn't reprimand his pushy son.
Eyeing the house elf with an unreadable expression, after a minute of silence, he says, "Kreacher, I need you to clear up an issue that arose earlier."
"Kreacher is happy to help, Master."
A heaviness settles in Regulus's stomach... he makes a concerted effort to not look at his brother. Or his cousins. Orrrr anyone else, really.
"As Head of the Black Family and your owner, my order supersedes all others. And I order you to speak the truth." Cautiously, Kreacher nods in understanding. "Who is Walburga's favorite son?"
"Oh, come on!" Sirius whines. "Is this really necessary?"
"Yes," Father decrees smugly. "Now hush, and let the elf speak."
Kreacher's gaze flickers to Regulus's own; the youngest Black nods encouragingly - he already knows the truth. It's Sirius who's in denial.
"Kreacher has tried, oh he has, to convince his Mistress that her firstborn is destined to break her heart. With his lawless ways, always thumbing his nose at our traditions." The elf sneers. "How he's befriended the one all others rightfully shun -"
"Halfbloods and Muggleborns," Sirius interjects, scowling something fierce at the elf. "We know."
"Them too, but also -"
"SHUT IT, ELF, UNLESS YOU WANT YOUR HEAD MOUNTED ON THE WALL TONIGHT!"
Regulus exchanges a fleeting glance with his cousins, but they seem just as confused/taken aback as he is.
"It would be an honor," Kreacher croons, smiling crookedly.
Sirius takes one step forward, but Regulus shoulders him back. "Leave him be, Siri, or else!"
"Mind your business, little star!"
"Actually, brother, you'll find that I am in fact minding my business."
Father clears his throat. "Boys, that is enough! Now, answer the question, Kreacher. No need to tell us about how you tried talking her out of it... like someone else we know," he looks pointedly at Sirius, "once Walburga has her mind set on something, she won't be swayed from it. This is known."
"Mistress's favorite son is Sirius."
Notes:
Sorry for the later-than-usual update! The last few chapters might not be every Thursday like I have been doing... moving is a nightmare, and I have SOOOO much left to do still.
I've written 95% of this story (including the ending!), but I'm still working on some scenes that just don't feel right. I don't want to post something that's half-assed though, so I'm sorry to everyone who likes the consistency :(
Chapter 30: The Morning After
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
For the second time this afternoon, the Hospital Wing doors burst open with a BANG!
The noise has Regulus frantically reaching for his wand, his heart in his throat...
... but just like the first time, it's all for naught.
"Should I write Dad?” Potter yells, not ten minutes after Kreacher took Father back to Grimmauld Place.
Instantly, Regulus feels his cheeks heat at the sight of the older Gryffindor; they then burn twice as hot when Narcissa coos, "Ooh, look who it is, little cousin."
What was I thinking, saying all of that stuff about courting James Potter?! It's bad enough for Sirius, Cissa, and Andie to hear it, but Father too?! A moment of insanity for sure... shame I can't Obliviate everyone. Along with myself.
"You can write to whomever you want, Potter," Andromeda says, amused. "Not sure why you need our approval."
Striding across the room, Potter comes to a stop in front of Sirius. "What did your folks say? Did they agree to go after, erm… that guy? Or were they twats about it all?... they were twats about it all, weren't they? I told you it was a bad idea, but you never listen to me!" Oh look, Potter and I have something in common. "You only listen to Remus!"
The doors open again, so quietly, Regulus almost misses Lupin trekking in. Outwardly calmer than his companion, his green eyes are filled with so much worry, so much love, something ugly twists in Regulus's heart.
No one will ever look at you like that, the snide voice in the back of his head whispers. Why would they? There's 7 billion better options in the world for them to choose over you.
“Mate, why are you just standing there?" Brazenly, Potter snaps his fingers in Sirius's face, but the Black heir doesn't so much as blink. "For the love of Godric, can you tell me what happened. Please?!" No one says a word, but suddenly, the Chaser inhales sharply. "Did they... did you get... are you disowned? Merlin, are both of you?... wait, why would they disown you for something that wasn’t your fault? Did you tell them about your new boyfriend? How'd they take that?” With his barrage of questions going unanswered, Potter turns helplessly to the unlucky Slytherin standing closest to the trio of Gryffindors - Andromeda. “Is he cursed? What do we do? How can I help?”
"I've got a great idea." In the midst of running a litany of diagnostic scans over Regulus, Narcissa pauses between spells to snarkily retort, “You can help by shutting up! This is a Hospital Wing, you know."
A few minutes before Potter barreled his way into the ward, Madam Pomfrey had returned in a tizzy, muttering angrily under her breath about 'time-wasting, impatient, obstinate Headmasters who think everything is an emergency, because all of our lives obviously revolve around theirs'. She'd taken one look at Sirius, who remained frozen in place after Kreacher's comment about him being Mother’s favorite, and immediately turned to Narcissa for explanation. The blonde assured the matron that Sirius was quite alright, 'For the first time ever, he's using the brain he was born with. However, I believe it's best if we leave him alone until he’s finished... don't want to risk any potential complications should he be interrupted mid-thought.’
“He found out that he’s Auntie Walburga’s favorite son," Andromeda explains kindly.
"Sirius is his mother's favorite son?" Potter repeats in a voice riddled with skepticism.
“Mhmm... broke his little brain right in two, I’m afraid.” The older girl squishes Sirius's cheeks together. "Such a shame, but at least his face is still pretty."
The lack of a vain remark (or any reaction whatsoever) following such a pronouncement exemplifies just how off-kilter Father's visit left Sirius. Though to be fair to his brother, it's likely due to a multitude of reasons, not just that bit about Mother. The last hour or so was one mind fuck after another, after another, after another, after another...
Readjusting his spectacles on his nose, Potter shares a quick glance with Lupin. “Ah, well, as the heir -“
“No!” Regulus snaps. He’s so fucking exhausted now, both physically and mentally, and he absolutely refuses to have the same back and forth arguments with Potter, as they did with Sirius.
Shaking her head, Andromeda groans, “Salazar, you and Sirius really do share one brain, don’t you?”
"Bold of you to assume there even is a brain between them," Narcissa huffs. "I'm of the opinion that Lupin lends a portion of his to Dummy 1 and Dummy 2 from time to time."
Potter's outraged squawking brings a wide smirk to Lupin's face, another reason this union between him and Sirius is acceptable - Remus Lupin's sense of humor is much more tolerable than my brother's.
"Okay, first of all, Sirius and I are right up there in the class rankings with Mr. Remus John Lupin, thank you very much. And in our defense, his mum is NOT nice to him, why would we assume he's the favorite?! I mean, did Siri tell you what she said when he pierced his ears?" The Slytherin girls shake their head, while Regulus resolutely keeps his mouth shut. That had been an utterly ridiculous blowout fight between Mother and Sirius. When Father stormed into the room midway through, he took one look at his youngest son's face; then, without explanation, he ordered Kreacher to Apparate Regulus into his (heavily warded) study, thus granting the youngest Black the freedom to laugh his arse off without making the situation worse. "She told him at the rate he was going, he was gonna get mistaken for a Knockturn Alley call boy!"
That was one of the tamer things she said, Regulus chuckles internally.
"Not that it's any of your business..." Tilting his head to the side, Potter frowns, then taps his ear, fuck that's so cute, who does that?... no no no, focus, Regulus! He raises his voice to be heard over his cousins' unrestrained laughter. "But it has NOTHING to do with him being the heir, okay? Sirius has always been Mother's favorite. And if he were to run away tomorrow to go live his not-so-secret-dream of being a Muggle rock star, he would STILL be her favorite. End of story." The Gryffindor looks like he's going to argue, so Regulus hastily adds, "I'm Father's favorite."
Fortunately, repeating Father's little white lie appeases Potter's fragile emotions.
“I gotta run, love," Andromeda says, "but I’ll come by tomorrow morning if you’re still here, alright?”
Regulus nods and graciously holds back his protests when she wraps him in a hug so strong, it cracks his back in at least three places. Glancing at Sirius like she wants to say something, after a moment of hesitation, Andromeda opts to gently pat his head on her way out.
Moving a solid distance away from Sirius, Lupin drags a protesting Potter with him, then whispers, "Padfoot."
What a stupid nickname, Regulus scoffs to himself. My brother can be sneaky and soft-footed when he wants to be, but more often than not, his walk is reminiscent of a herd of Erumpents charging across the savannas.
Miraculously, the sound of Lupin’s voice ends whatever otherworldly trance Sirius found himself in. Unfortunately, his return to Earth is as inelegant as it could possibly be; he flails wildly, trying to stay upright, and accidentally whacks Lupin right in the face.
“Do not injure your brother anymore than he already is, cousin!” Narcissa shrieks when Sirius falls backwards onto Regulus's bed. Making good use of her rolled up parchment (which contains the results of the first twenty scans Regulus endured), she smacks the Gryffindor on the head. “He’s been through enough today, don’t you think?! And shame on you for hurting Lupin too, you clumsy, graceless boor!”
“Sorry, sorry… Narcissa, stop!!” Sirius whines, covering his head with his arms; the scene is almost embarrassing enough to make Regulus feel better.
Almost.
“You’re crushing my foot,” Regulus complains, unceremoniously kicking his brother off the bed.
It’s fine though; Sirius falls right into Lupin’s open arms again, the taller boy correctly guessing the inevitable conclusion to their tussling.
"Alright, Siri?" The corners of his lips tugs upwards, like he's (chivalrously) trying to suppress a smile.
The Black heir's cheeks burn a rosy pink. "I should be asking you that. Sorry for thumping you, Rem."
"No harm done, love." Losing the battle, a devious grin forms on Lupin's face. "Besides, your brother hits harder."
Oh, he's definitely perfect... for Siri.
Regulus makes a mental note to contact Grandmother Melania at the first opportunity.
"We all hit harder than Sirius," Narcissa says primly.
“You are all cruel, wicked people,” Sirius harrumphs, straightening his robes and smoothing his hair back into place. “I have half a mind to call Father back and demand he disowns all of us at once. Then, we’ll see who’s laughing in the end!”
The blonde places a hand on her hip. “It’ll be me, because you won’t be able to survive in the real world without Mummy and Daddy’s money.” Her voice becomes childlike in the same way Bellatrix’s does when she’s mocking someone. “Poor wittle bitty baby Siri, whatever would he do without his inheritance?”
Merlin, how can they still bicker after everything that just happened?!
“Oh, you think you’re funny, Cissy?” Sirius levels a challenging look at her. “Personally, I don’t think being a trophy wife -"
“It’s impolite to refer to homemakers as trophy wives, Mr. Black,” Madam Pomfrey tuts, striding out of her office with a potion Regulus can already tell tastes horrible.
“And I’m not going to be a homemaker anyways, as you already know, cousin!” Narcissa practically shouts, startling the matron so extensively, she drops the vial. Fortunately, the stopper is firmly in place, and Regulus’s Seeker reflexes kick in before it hits the background. “Er, sorry, Madam Pomfrey."
“You’ve decided to enroll in one of St. Mungo’s programs upon graduation?” Madam Pomfrey inquires in a neutral tone, eyes trained firmly on Regulus to make sure he downs the disgusting concoction, worse than I thought it would be, blegh.
Hesitantly, Narcissa nods. “Yes, ma’am, though I’m not sure which program at the present moment.”
There’s a beat of silence as everyone processes her statement; Potter’s eyebrows are raised towards his hairline, while Lupin seems to not understand the significance of such a statement… or he has some semblance of manners and is courteous enough to appear excited on Narcissa’s behalf.
“Oh, that’s so lovely to hear, my dear!” Madam Pomfrey cries delightedly. “I had hoped you would pursue a Healing career, of course, though I understood the difficult position you were in based on your circumstances. But you’ll do so well, I just know it, Ms. Black, you’re undoubtedly one of the brightest students I’ve ever had the pleasure of teaching.”
She moves forward like she’s going to hug the sixth-year but hesitates; it doesn’t matter, though, because with an undignified squeal, Narcissa launches herself at the matron, pulling her into a warm embrace.
“I can never thank you enough, Madam Pomfrey,” Narcissa whispers when they break apart.
The older woman’s brows furrow. “Whatever for, child?”
“For encouraging me, for believing in me.” She looks from Madam Pomfrey to Sirius. “I am forever grateful to both of you for reminding me the importance of remaining true to myself. Genuinely, I'm so excited for the future, I can hardly put it into words.”
Sirius beams, and for once, forgoes a stupid or snippy comment. “You’ll make our family proud, Cissa, I have no doubt about that… in fact, I’d dare say you already have, right, Reg?”
Regulus, who's still recovering from the disgusting potion, scrunches up his nose. “Uh huh.” Coughing into his arm, he downs the cup of water someone hands him without thought. “Very proud, especially if you invent less vile-tasting potions.”
“Only because you asked so nicely,” the blonde teases.
With a warm smile and a promise of having a chat later on, Madam Pomfrey returns to her office, leaving Narcissa to finish up her diagnostic scans. The three Gryffindors situate themselves on the bed next to Regulus, talking in low but rapid voices.
Whenever Regulus thinks Narcissa is finally done poking and prodding at him, she doublechecks her list and then continues on; he assumes she’s doing way more than Madam Pomfrey instructed, likely running his entire medical history with every scan she knows now that she has the opportunity - seriously, she’s on her third roll of parchment at this point, and all he did was fall into the lake!
Normally, Regulus wouldn’t mind her using him as practice for whatever endeavor she’s working on, but right now, he just wants to be left alone. Patience running parchment-thin, his irritation grows and grows with each new spell she casts, until he snaps out a churlish, “Are you bloody well done yet, cousin? Or would you prefer to cut me open and have a peek around inside, too?”
Her eyes narrow at his sass, and when Regulus notices Sirius and his pals gawking at him out of his peripheral vision, he has to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from screaming out, it’s impolite to stare, you Neanderthals!
“If you continue using that tone with me, I may just take you up on that offer,” she retorts disgruntledly, rolling up her last parchment without checking it. “Do you require anything before I depart? I can assure you, Regulus, you will not be escaping this ward anytime soon.”
He knew he wouldn’t be allowed to leave tonight, but the insinuation that he’ll be stuck here for days… no, no, he refuses to sleep here for another night. He’ll sneak out if he has to, there’s nothing wrong with him!
“I’m alright… thank you,” Regulus grumbles out. He picks at an imaginary stain on the sleeve of his robe, hoping she’ll take the hint that he doesn’t want to be bothered anymore.
Narcissa scrutinizes him for a moment, but the younger Slytherin keeps his gaze lowered. He just wants to go the fuck to sleep and be done with this horrid day, why is that such an issue?!
“Then, I bid you goodnight.” She leans forward, kissing the top of his head. “I hope you feel better tomorrow, Regulus.”
Wary of opening his mouth in case he says something he will come to regret, Regulus nods in acknowledgement.
Familiar with the workings of the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey only has to clear her throat for Regulus to stand and make the trek to the nearest lavatory, grabbing a pair of hospital pajamas from her on his way. Hurrying through his business, he changes his clothes, brushes his teeth, and splashes a bit of cold water onto his face in place of a real wash. The shortened routine takes him less than five minutes - he’s too drained to care anymore than that.
Settling back onto his claimed cot, Regulus silently debates with himself whether he should say goodnight to his brother or simply close the curtains around his bed (another reason he prefer this spot; not only is it the farthest from the door, but most of the other beds have privacy screens instead of full curtains). But before he can decide, Potter catches his eye and breaks away from his friends; Regulus bites back a groan when the older boy relocates himself, without invitation, onto the side of the his bed. Like he owns the damn thing!
"Alright, Reg?" Leaning forward into Regulus's personal space, Potter hesitates, then abruptly straightens back up. He smiles flimsily. "Need me to bring you anything?"
Squashing down his disappointment, the Slytherin mutters, "I'm fine... thanks."
“You’ll come visit Gryffindor, right?" Potter asks, hazel eyes blindingly bright behind his glasses. "Pretty please?... once you’re free from here, of course!”
The snide, nagging voice in his head (which is different from the ‘you should do this innocuous thing that will probably come close to killing you’ voice, and has been with him for as long as he can remember), reminds Regulus that he was stupid to tell Father he was going to court Potter, as if Potter could ever see Regulus as a romantic interest. James Potter - Gryffindor Quidditch star, prankster, popular, gorgeous, and intelligent beyond belief - has birds and blokes tripping over themselves to merely exist within his orbit. Why would he lower himself to settle with Regulus Black, a younger Slytherin whose only ‘claim to fame’ is being Sirius Black’s moody little brother? How utterly preposterous! Potter's likely only talking to him because of Sirius, but Regulus was so bloody desperate for his attention, he interpreted the older boy's behavior the wrong way.
“Excuse me, Potter,” Regulus interjects sullenly, “but you seem to be operating under the delusion that we’re friends. Let me clear it up for you - we are not friends, nor are we acquaintances. Piss off, would you?”
Potter does not piss off.
Instead, he runs a hand through his ebony hair, looking amused. Sweet Merlin, how atrociously has Sirius behaved towards this boy over the last five years for him to be so unfazed by Regulus’s brassy attitude?!
“Forgive me for repeating myself, but you’re SO cute when you’re mean, Reg.”
"You're insufferable!" Regulus hisses. "Stop with these vile insults, I am not... do not call me the 'c' word!"
Lupin whips around to stare at them.
The Chaser frantically shakes his head. "Cute is NOT the 'c' word, Reg!"
His brother quickly recaptures his boyfriend's attention.
"It is in my world," Regulus sniffs.
"Let's agree to disagree." Potter inclines his head towards Lupin and Sirius, who are now gazing adoringly at each other without speaking. “They’re going to be even more unbearably wrapped up in each other than they used to be. So, it’ll be nice to have another Black to -“
Without a doubt, it's the worst thing Potter could have said to Regulus in his present state of mind.
“Oi! What the bloody hell was that for?” Potter shouts from the stone floor of the Hospital Wing.
Peering over the side of the bed, Regulus scowls down at the affronted Gryffindor. “I am NOT someone you can use as Sirius’s stand-in whenever he’s occupied with something else, Potter, how fucking dare you say such a thing to me!” He doesn't attempt to lower his voice, can hardly hear it over the blood pounding in his ears. “I might be the spare at home, but I refuse to be that elsewhere, so PISS OFF, AND LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!”
“Mate, that is not what I meant, I swear!” Potter, of fucking course, doesn’t even have the decency to make his protesting arguments to Regulus, the person he actually offended. Instead, he pleads his case to the preferred Black brother.
Lupin effortlessly tugs Potter off the ground. "Alright, James?"
“Yeah, thanks, Moony." Dropping his head onto Sirius’s shoulder, he mutters, "M'sorry, Siri."
Sirius makes a noncommittal noise. “I’m sure Regulus is just hungry and took whatever you said the wrong way." Wrapping an arm around Potter, he shoots his brother a ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ look.
The waves of guilt rushing through Regulus aren't enough to bring his anger under control; ultimately, they serve to ignite his temper further, all of this is Potter's fault to begin with, why couldn't he just leave me alone, like I ASKED him to?! But because James Potter doesn't know how to listen, I'm the bad guy? That's bollocks! Regulus digs his nails into his palms in an attempt to settle his raging emotions after noticing his empty water goblet shaking -
“I was just saying that Regulus should come hangout in Gryffindor with us, now that you’ll be coming back to the dorm -“
Leaving, of course Sirius will be leaving, why would he stay, why would anyone stay…
“I SAID -” With an ear-splitting screech, the arched windows shatter, sending clouds of glass shards every which way. "GO -" In the middle of the room, the chandelier crashes onto the stone floor, while unoccupied beds slam into the nearest walls. “AWAY!!!!”
Chest heaving, Regulus fights to get his breathing under control. When he finally inhales enough oxygen into his lungs to think again, his head jerks up, horrified at the destruction he’s caused. The room looks like a tornado swept through it, the floor littered with debris, the doors to the lavatories hanging off their hinges. Only the giant double doors leading out to the hallway, Madam Pomfrey’s office door, and Regulus’s occupied bed are left untouched.
Sirius, bless him, has had similar incidents in the past and can recognize the signs of an impending breakdown; his shield charm prevented any damage to himself, Regulus, or the other Gryffindors, and his silencing spell kept Madam Pomfrey from being alerted.
“Uh, James and I will clean up real quick,” Lupin whispers to Sirius, very obviously not looking at Regulus. “Give you two a minute, yeah?”
“Thanks, Rem,” Sirius murmurs, his eyes trained solely on his younger brother.
It's a good thing Regulus hasn't eaten in a while; Potter's horrified expression makes his stomach roll with a lovely mixture of shame, disgust, and despair.
He's finally realized the truth, the annoying voice laughs darkly. That you're nothing but a FREAK.
"Brother."
... that tone bodes nothing well for him.
Now he’s done it.
Sirius inches closer, cautious, like he’s approaching a skittish unicorn in the wild. Or a rabid dog.
Before he can say anything else, Regulus rushes out, “I’m sorry, yes I’m fine, no I’m not hungry, no I don’t need anything else, no I don’t want to talk, goodnight, Siri."
“Reggie -"
"Bye bye, now."
"Regulus."
For a millisecond, he debates on calling for Pipsy, with the hope she'll spirit him away to anywhere that isn't here. But he highly doubts she'd agree to break him out of the Hospital Wing. And on the off chance she did, he would hate to get her into trouble.
“Spare me the hypocritical lecture, Sirius. I’m not a fucking child in need of a scolding from his big brother, alright?”
“You sure are acting like one,” Sirius grumbles petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“If you’re so intent on fussing over someone, maybe you should focus on Potter,” Regulus continues, ignoring the jibe. “You see, he actually wants your attention on him at all times, whereas I would very much like to be left alone!”
“Little star -”
“Sirius, please, just go!”
Don’t leave, don’t leave, don’t leave, not again, please stay, please, I'm sorry, I am, I didn’t mean to snap like that, but I'm so fucking tired, tired of everything, of not being good enough, of not being wanted, never the first choice, always the last. Tired of being a burden. I'm so sorry, please, please don't leave me alone...
“Godric’s tits, FINE, I’m going, alright?!” Sirius throws his hands in the air. “And they say I’m the moody one, fuck.” With that, he yanks the bed curtains shut.
At last, Regulus is granted the solitude he so desperately graved and a reprieve from being observed. He curls himself into the smallest ball possible, allowing the tears he’s been holding back to fall onto his pillow. He knew Andromeda and Narcissa were right yesterday, he knew Sirius needed to go back to spending time with his Gryffindor friends and sleeping in their Tower where he belonged, but… it sucks. And he’s afraid that despite what happened with Father, things will slowly return to the way they were, where Regulus was nothing more than an inconvenience to his older brother, a pest he couldn’t escape.
Yet nothing sounds worse than allowing their relationship to deteriorate progressively, cognizant of the distance growing but powerless to prevent it. Regulus isn't proud to admit it, but he's too weak to endure the torture of watching his brother drift away on his own. He wouldn't survive something like that.
So, although he didn't realize at the time what he was doing, Regulus's humiliating temper tantrum ripped their bond right in half. It's better to end it right here. A clean break. And it'll put a stop to the stuff with Potter too, long before the Gryffindor can realize there's nothing likeable under Regulus's unforthcoming exterior.
But why does the right choice have to hurt so badly?
The next time Regulus wakes, it’s pitch black when he opens his eyes. It's unclear how long he slept for, but just his luck - he feels worse than he did before his fitful slumber. Irritably rubbing the crust from his eyes, Regulus's thoughts immediately return to his meltdown. Fuck, he can’t believe he did that to begin with, not to mention in front of Lupin and Potter… how humiliating! He couldn't find a less-mortifying way to cut ties with his brother?
Such a shame he can’t pitch himself off the Astronomy Tower… perhaps a midnight stroll through the Forbidden Forest is in order?
You need to use the loo, the 'do-dangerous-things' voice whispers in the back of his thoughts.
Briefly, Regulus wonders how going to the loo is going to put him at risk for dying… again… then realizes it doesn’t matter. Because the voice is annoyingly correct. He doesn’t want to leave the comfort and warmth of his cot, but his bladder is suddenly impossible to ignore.
Slipping silently out of his bed, Regulus is searching for his wand on the nightstand when he experiences his fourth-brush with death - in the least exciting way possible.
“Oh, hullo.”
Regulus's subsequent reaction is going to haunt him for the rest of his short-life, guaranteed. Especially since he didn’t even attempt to defend himself with his wand, his fists, or anything! He simply jumped backwards, shrieked loud enough to wake the dead, and clutched a hand to his chest, like a first-year Muggleborn startled by seeing a ghost for the first time. He didn’t expect anyone to be on the empty cot next to his, let alone Sirius, Lupin, and Potter. How could they have forgotten everything Regulus said and did before he went to sleep?!
I hope this is actually a dream...
Sitting crossed-legged with his back resting against the headboard, Lupin smiles apologetically at the spooked Slytherin. He has his hands tangled in Sirius’s hair, which makes more sense when Regulus notices the copy of Witch Weekly next to the Gryffindor. It's currently opened to a page outlining step-by-step instructions for some elaborate braided updo… from Regulus’s vantage point, it isn’t going well.
As his boyfriend 'works' on his hair, Sirius is intently reading from some textbook, his legs stretched out down the length of the bed. Sprawled out in the remaining space, Potter's head rests on Lupin’s knee, while his legs are draped over his best mate's in a way that doesn’t look all that comfortable. The curtains are drawn most of the way around the bed, though they remain open on the side facing Regulus’s cot.
“Alright, Reg?” Sirius lowers his book to peer at his brother with unmasked concern. “You look like you saw a Dementor.”
“Uhhh…”
“You weren’t trying to sneak out, were you?”
“No!”
… Merlin, he wasn’t, yet it certainly doesn’t sound like he's being truthful.
“How about you use the loo,” Sirius suggests with a pointed stare, “one in the Hospital Wing, if you would be so kind, and I’ll call Pipsy to bring you some -“
Regulus rushes to correct his sibling's incorrect conclusion. "You would want to call Milly, actually." He’s not sure why Potter and his brother are giving him strange looks, so he awkwardly adds, "She’s the designated house elf for the Hospital Wing. To call for Pipsy would be perceived as a slight against Milly."
“Godric, such favoritism!" Potter cries. "If I wake up in the middle of the night, I’m left to starve.”
“Regulus is the Chosen One,” Sirius declares in an exaggeratedly deep voice.
The two boneheaded Gryffindors break out into giggles, but Lupin is quick to smack them upside the head.
"Are you trying to wake Madam Pomfrey?" he asks when they scowl at him.
While the three Gryffindors are occupied, Regulus scampers off towards the lavatory, willing his heated cheeks to cool down.
“From the lovely Milly,” Sirius intones regally when he returns, waving a hand towards the floating platter of food that hovers between their two cots. “Your favorite comfort snack - ham and pickle sandwiches, cut into triangles, with a giant goblet of milk on the side.”
Having given up on the hairdo, Lupin is currently unraveling the mess he made before his boyfriend can see it… smart of him, really, as Sirius is fussy about everything, but his hair especially. Potter is now sitting up, though he’s angled himself half behind Sirius, if he's trying to hide from me, he's not doing a very good job.
As soon as Regulus sits on his bed, the platter floats closer to him. But he doesn’t take one, not yet.
“What are y-you…” he clears his throat, “umm, what are you doing here?”
“Reading,” Potter deadpans, though his eyes twinkle behind his glasses. He gestures to his abandoned comic book on the bed.
The Slytherin lifts his nose in the air. “Funny…” Potter smirks like he won this round, but Regulus is so not done. “I didn’t know you could read.”
Sirius claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. But Lupin lets out an appreciative chuckle, because he’s evidently much cooler than his boyfriend.
“Oh, Baby Black, you wound me so!” Potter cries, using both hands to clutch his heart. “Each wicked word that falls from those luscious lips is but a poisoned dagger, stabbed straight through my wanting heart. To what has thy done to earn such a wretched fate, my beloved?”
Merlin, and Regulus thought his brother was dramatic?! No wonder Sirius and Potter get along so well!
(He also vehemently refuses to focus on how Potter referred to him as ‘my beloved’.)
"If I had to wager a guess, James," Lupin hums, finally done untangling Sirius's long locks, "I'd say it has a lot to do with how you failed to read... or listen to... his obvious cues that he was done socializing."
Unable to resist, Regulus mutters, "I knew you were illiterate."
"Oi! I know Remus makes a good point -"
"As always."
"But while you were napping," Potter continues, ignoring his friend, "I read half of this graphic novel, Baby Black." He gestures to the book on the side table. "So, there!"
"Not sure if you're familiar with comic books, but they're predominately pictures," Lupin 'whispers' conspiringly to Regulus. "Don't think it really counts as reading."
Potter's cheeks puff up. "No, no, no, I will not tolerate you spreading misinformation!" In his agitated state, he doesn't notice Lupin's shit-eating grin... but Regulus sure does. "First of all, comic books and graphic novels are two VERY different things -"
"But both have pictures," Sirius interrupts, ironically wielding the same tactic on his friend, that Regulus uses on his brother - cut the rant off in the beginning, don't let Sirius (or in this case, Potter) have a chance to build steam; otherwise, you're in for the long haul. "So, we were banned from reading them, cuz they're for peasants. Reggie isn't not gonna know anything about your Captain Wiz books, mate." He shrugs. "Tragic, but alas."
"I read all 103 issues of the Revengers," Regulus finds himself confessing, disconcerted by how Potter's face falls at Sirius's words. "Along with Protectors of the Planets, Raveneye, and MagnificientMan. And at the end of last year, I was working my way through Catman and Warbler."
His brother's brows furrow. "But... but we're banned? Even Uncle Alphard won't budge on it."
"Who's your favorite character?" Potter asks excitedly, resting his chin on Sirius's shoulder.
"That's mostly because Uncle Alphard was once 'friends' with the owner of a major publishing company." Even before Hogwarts 'radicalized' Regulus (how their parents would surely refer to their youngest son's evolved viewpoints... if they knew about it), Uncle Alphard was happy to lend his youngest nephew Muggle novels whenever he visited. Secretly, of course. But that also meant his adamant refusal to indulge Regulus's interest in (magical!) comic books vexed him to no end. He might have gotten a little snippy about it once, and that's when Uncle Gio told him the truth. "Apparently, their 'friendship' didn't end on good terms. And some of Uncle Gio's work buddies used to be employed with KB comics, but uh... let's just say they had a lot of complaints about the place." Regulus glances at Potter. "The Winter Auror is my favorite character, of course. And his cat, Highland. Yours?"
"Captain Wiz," Potter declares proudly, winding his arms around Sirius's middle... Regulus does not envy his brother.
The Slytherin playfully rolls his eyes. "Should have guessed. A Gryffindor if there ever was one."
"But we're banned," Sirius repeats stormily, sinking back into his friend's embrace... Regulus does not envy his brother.
"Okay, so? Barty isn't."
"But we are, Regulus Arcturus!"
"I will NOT be banned from a literary work I wish to read, for any reason!" The platter keeps nudging his arm, so Regulus grabs a sandwich and takes a small, angry bite. "What's it to you?"
Staring at him for several uncomfortable moments, Sirius eventually mumbles. "S'nothing." A beat of silence passes. Then another. "Didn't know you were such a rebel, that's all."
"There's a lot you don't know about me."
"Yeah, I'm beginning to realize that!" Sirius snaps, shaking Potter off him. Crossing his arms over his chest, his brother's expression becomes frighteningly familiar, oh Merlin, why is he sulking?!
Undeterred by his best mate's prickliness, Potter bundles Sirius back up into a warm embrace. "You have all the time in the world to get to know each other again." He kisses the top of the Black heir's hair... Regulus might envy his brother. "We can start a Comic Book Club to speed up the process! Please say yes, Brothers Black, please please pleaseeee."
"My friends can join too?" Regulus asks hesitantly, do I really want to bring Evan, Barty, and Pandora together with my brother and his friends? That seems like a disaster in the making.
Potter shrugs. "Sure, if they want."
"I suppose that's acceptable. I'm inviting Marlene, for sure. And probably others." Resting his hand on his knee, palm up, Sirius loudly clears his throat. "You in, Moons?"
No one asks about the 'others'... the youngest Black has a sneaking suspicious it's either Severus or some of Sirius's new Slytherin gal pals. Blimey, it could be Severus and an entourage of female Snakes, at least that'll take the attention away from me and my friends.
With an indulgent smile, Lupin entwines their fingers together. “Sure. But before this tangent about comic books and graphic novels, I believe your brother asked a serious question."
"What are you doing here?” Regulus repeats, knowing Sirius has long since forgotten.
“Ah yes, a very Sirius question, indeed,” his brother beams, ignoring the younger's groan. “The answer is simple… we are here because you’re here. Obviously.”
"But I was awful to you, all of you," Regulus whispers shamefully. "I just… I don’t understand.”
“Mmm, true, and you did leave Remus in tears…”
Lupin looks away, and Regulus discreetly tries to discern any lingering injuries he may have.
“Did I… did I hurt you?! I’m so sorry, are you alright?”
“I am quite alright, thank you.” The taller Gryffindor fiddles with the edge of the magazine and staunchly refuses to meet his gaze. “Forgive me, it was atrociously insensitive of me, but you see, from an outsider’s perspective, it was all rather… uh... funny."
Regulus blinks, taken aback by that response. “You were… laughing at me?”
“No!” Lupin rapidly shakes his head. “No, not at you -“
“Certainly wasn’t with him, either,” Potter snorts, though he squawks when Sirius's pointy elbow is jabbed into his side.
“It was a very Sirius-esque strop,” Lupin clarifies in a rush. “And as someone who has experienced several epic Sirius meltdowns, it was amusing to watch him on the receiving end of a similar one.”
Potter’s cough sounds suspiciously like a giggle. “I wish you could have seen his face, both when everything exploded, and then right after he closed your curtains.”
“My face is beautiful,” Sirius sniffs. “As is the rest of me!”
Regulus is gratified when even Lupin rolls his eyes at that.
“I’m still sorry you had to witness that, though,” Regulus mumbles, embarrassed by his immaturity. “And I’m sorry for yelling, and pushing Potter off the bed... pushing both of you off the bed, and -”
“Reg, we are sorry we pushed you to that point, me especially!” Sirius says, interrupting his brother's rant, he's using my own stratagem against me. The audacity! “I sometimes forget how different we are, weird as that is to say. I should have realized after you snapped at Cissa that you had more social stress this afternoon than you would accumulate in a month. In only a few hours, you had countless interactions that were emotionally draining, and all of them were outside your comfort areas, like your dorm or your bedroom back home. Merlin, that doesn’t even take into account how you nearly DIED… AGAIN.”
“We… that is, Sirius and I,” Potter corrects when he sees Lupin’s raised eyebrow, “are not introverted individuals and are bad at recognizing social cues from people who have limits on socializing. So, I’m truly sorry for disrespecting your boundaries and not taking the hint. But also, I wanna be very clear - I don’t see you as a replacement for your brother.” Moving to sit beside Sirius, he leans forward, his 'whisper' carrying across the space between their beds. “You’re much cooler than Siri, but don’t tell him I said that.”
Sirius shares a look with Lupin, but otherwise allows his friend to get away unscathed with the diss. Regulus absentmindedly nibbles on his sandwich, thinking this new information over. Before he knows it, he’s finished half the platter. Unwilling to waste the food Milly so kindly prepared for him, Regulus pushes the remaining food towards the opposite bed; Sirius, who clearly lacks taste, declines, but Lupin eats his fair share after Potter takes one bite and gags.
“Do you… need help?” Regulus tentatively offers when he catches Lupin studying the picture in the magazine again.
“Merlin, yes, if you’re up for it,” Lupin groans, scooting over to make space for him. “They make it seem so easy, but it’s all a lie.”
His brother tries to force him back to bed, but Regulus plops down onto the opposite cot. “Not tired, and besides, this will take me five minutes tops.”
Lupin’s look of skepticism is amusing; when Regulus finishes the task in four minutes, his look of awed disbelief is hilarious. Then, Regulus is the one nearly in tears when Sirius checks the hairstyle in the mirror, nods his approval, and immediately undoes the braid.
“It’s what I’m going to wear at Bella’s wedding, Moons,” Sirius explains after catching his boyfriend’s put-out look. “Can’t just go wearing it around school, then it won’t be special!”
Before the two can get into another quarrel, Potter asks, “Wanna play cards? Lily let me borrow this Muggle deck, and she wrote a bunch of different game ideas down.”
Sirius eagerly snatches the list with a ‘gimme!’
Regulus sighs… it’s definitely going to be a long night.
“What, you don’t like games, Reg?” Potter teases, expertly shuffling the card deck like he’s done it a thousand times before.
“On the contrary, Potter, I love games. But at home, we’re banned from playing them... and that's a rule all of our relatives strictly adhere to.”
For good reason, too.
Lupin is evidently smarter than Potter. His eyes drift to the bloke muttering to himself about the odds of defeating opponents, and which game would give him the most satisfying win.
“Blacks would hate fun, wouldn’t they?” Potter grumbles darkly. "Especially your folks."
Regulus smirks. “Not quite.” It's true; Father prefers to play games involving strategy and mental fortitude (which were not well-received by his young children, prior to the Black-wide ban of all games), but Mother loves winning, plain and simple.
“I don’t understand,” the Chaser admits after a minute, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck.
“Your best mate is a HORRENDOUSLY sore loser" the youngest Black divulges with a chuckle. “You think you’ve seen the worst of a ‘Sirius-esque strop’? I can assure you... you know nothing, James Potter.”
Potter’s eyes widen behind his glasses. “Oh wow, would you look at the time?” He fakes a yawn. “Maybe we should go to sleep -”
“No!” Sirius forcefully points to a game on the list. “This one called ‘spoons’ looks fun. We can play for a bit before bed.”
Taking the parchment, Regulus skim reads the rules. “Do we actually need spoons? That’s so boring... hmm, it doesn't seem like we do. Let's spice it up and use knives.”
“Better yet, here’s one called Bollocks,” Sirius says with a glare. “All about deceiving and calling people on their shit, should be right up your alley, Reg.”
(It was apparently right up Potter’s alley, which made Regulus feel… things he didn’t want to think about. Sirius only made the water pitcher explode in his frustration… twice… which was remarkably tame given prior incidents.)
“Aw, cute…”
“Shhh!... don’t wake….”
“... Lily has one…”
“Don’t be tactless….”
Regulus buries his face further into his pillow to escape the noise.
“... okay, go ask her.”
Some unknown amount of time later, a flash of light bright enough to be seen through closed eyelids brings Regulus back to consciousness. His ears are then assaulted by (poorly) muffled giggles.
An arm tightens around his middle.
That’s strange, Regulus thinks to himself. By morning, Sirius and I always end up back-to-back.
“S’going on?”
He relaxes upon hearing his brother’s voice.
That relief lasts all of three seconds - something unexpectedly touches his neck, just under his chin. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but since Sirius’s voice came from behind him, it means there’s something… or someone… else in bed with them. Regulus silently counts in his head, but at '30', the unknown entity is still there, still touching him. Too sleep-addled to figure out what it is, Regulus remains motionless, alert enough to know he should forgo an outward reaction until he determines what’s going on around him. That important lesson was learned during his childhood illnesses - waking up surrounded by relatives he didn’t have the energy to deal with, finding his brother crying at his bedside, interrupting his parents in the middle of an argument - all of that awkwardness was avoidable by feigning sleep (overhearing a ton of scandalous gossip further cemented the habit).
Regulus mentally jots down six relevant observations:
One - an unknown thing is touching his neck, hence the dire need for this data
Two - that something is quite soft
Three - there’s another burst of light, which is again followed by indecipherable muttering, leading Regulus to conclude he is also under observation
Four - the arm around his middle is surprisingly heavy
Five - there’s a lighter weight on his legs, too heavy to be a blanket
Six - he's engulfed in a warm, woodsy aroma. The scent fills Regulus's mind with images of wintertime at Black Manor, how he'd spend night after night burrowed in his favorite armchair in front of a crackling fire, a new book in his lap each evening. His brother would bustle around him, a comforting presence, doing whatever it is that Sirius does in libraries besides reading.
To the Slytherin’s annoyance, his brain refuses to analyze the gathered data. But fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on one’s perspective), the Fates smile upon him by benevolently providing the two final pieces of the puzzle; a tiny gust of air tickles his skin, causing goosebumps to rise up on his flesh; that peculiar sensation is then followed by something moist grazing his neck.
Regulus’s brain screams the answer so loudly, he’s certain it must be audible to those around him:
Lips.
“What’s wrong, Reg?” Sirius sounds much more awake now, but Regulus doesn't feel bad for climbing half on top of him. His quest to get away from... him... takes priority over his brother's beauty sleep, besides, Potter is only here because Sirius is here, so he should suffer with me. Fair is fair! “Did Bella put another snake in the bed?”
Grrr, they agreed never to speak of that again!
Yanking his hand off its current perch, which happened to be Lupin’s exceptionally firm backside, oopsie, Regulus squeaks, “Worse, brother. Much, much worse.”
Regulus’s valiant attempts to convince the three Gryffindor’s that it would be so much more fun to relocate their impromptu game night to literally anywhere in the castle that wasn’t the medical ward was a big ole' waste of breath - to his annoyance, their quartet remained overnight in the Hospital Wing. With the use of one of Sirius’s housekeeping spells, two cots were merged seamlessly together, granting them more surface space to comfortably play cards. He remembers the endless rounds of Bollocks, how their ‘best out of three’ tournament became ‘best out of five’, then ‘best out of nine’, and then ‘best out of twelve’, his brother insisting, ‘Just one more game, come on! Reg said he wasn’t tired. Right, Reggie?’. Whenever Sirius did something obnoxiously competitive (which was often), Regulus remembers sharing exasperated glances with Potter; he also vividly remembers how they pretended to vomit whenever they caught Lupin smiling fondly/indulgently at his boyfriend's antics.
What Regulus doesn’t remember?
Drifting off.
Lying furthest away from him on the enlarged bed is Lupin, who’s still dead-asleep, the lucky bastard. Surprisingly, the weight on Regulus's legs is actually Lupin’s leg, the same leg that’s stretched from one end of the bed to the other, Salazar, how can a fifth-year have legs so long?! Lupin might not even be done growing yet... bloody unfair, that is! Naturally, Sirius is next to his boyfriend, with Regulus on his brother's other side. Which means, the owner of the lips pressed against Regulus’s skin is none other than, dun dun dun - James Potter! Who evidently enjoys cuddling unsuspecting Slytherin’s in their sleep.
Sitting up so Regulus is no longer crushing him, Sirius tosses a supportive arm around his shoulders. Snuggling into his brother's side, Regulus allows himself to partake in his preferred childhood method of comfort, just this once, after suffering through that traumatizing and absolutely bonkers conversation with Father yesterday, I deserve a moment of reprieve. Silently, the Black brothers watch as Potter frowns in his sleep, a small, irritated sigh escaping his lips. Then, he attempts to drag his prize back into his clutches, leading Sirius to sharply smack his friend’s hand when it comes too close; the Chaser retracts his arm with a grumble, eyes still shut.
“Well I must admit,” Madam Pomfrey hums, startling the brothers, “this was a rather unexpected way to find you lot this morning.” Her eyes sparkle with amusement. “I hope you’ll separate the beds before you leave, hmm?”
As the matron walks off, Sirius and Regulus share a grimace. They're now left at the mercy of three girls they hadn't noticed until then, who all sport eerily similar smirks - Narcissa, Andromeda, and one Lily Evans.
Holding onto a camera with the sort of gleeful air that says Regulus will NEVER live this down, Narcissa chirps, “So happy we’ll always remember this moment!” A sudden flash blinds them... again. Regulus hisses like Wrath when her stuffed owl is taken away at bedtime. “And that one, too.”
“You’re evil, Cissa!” Sirius whines, rubbing his eyes.
Evans beams at her Slytherin BFF. “Isn’t it delightful?”
Madam Pomfrey’s words abruptly float through Regulus’s head again, ‘separate the beds before you leave’.
“Wait wait wait! Am I… am I free?”
“Not quite, Mr. Black," the matron calls from her office. Regulus looks questioningly at his two cousins. "Please come see me once you’re dressed. The house elves brought you a fresh set of clothes, you’ll find them on the counter in the lavatory.”
His wariness over the conditions of his release grows exponentially when Narcissa and Andromeda offer him tight-lipped smiles instead of a verbal explanation, the older girls promising to meet him in the Great Hall for lunch when he 'gets everything sorted'. With the meager remnants of his dignity, Regulus scurries off to complete his modified morning ritual, taking care to dig his knees and an elbow into a sleeping Potter as he goes. Rushing through his tasks, he almost has a heart attack when he sees that it’s nearly lunchtime. To his knowledge, Sirius has never slept this late, literally ever.
Exiting the lavatory, Regulus nearly crashes head first into Potter, who’s standing directly in front of the door. “Sweet Salazar, what are you doing?! You scared the shite out of me!”
“Erm... sorry,” Potter murmurs, sounding sincere.
But he doesn't move.
“Why are you looking at me weirdly?” The Gryffindor’s mouth opens and closes several times, but no actual words come out. “Come on, Potter, spit it out! I’d like to be released from this prison sometime today.”
“Um, would it be alright if… could I hug you? Please?”
Okay, admittedly, he had no idea what to expect to begin with, but a hug? That's way too far-fetched for Regulus to have ever been able to predict.
“Why?” he asks suspiciously.
“Because I’d like to.” Potter holds his hands up placatingly. “But no pressure, of course!”
Regulus sighs. “If you must.”
“No, seriously, if you don’t want to, it’s -”
It’s way too early in the morning for this type of drama… or any drama really. So, after a quick check to ensure his brother is focused on waking up his new boyfriend, Regulus awkwardly wraps his arms around Potter’s thick torso, then rests his chin on a deliciously buff shoulder. The Chaser doesn’t react for several moments; Regulus is about to pull away when a strong arm encircles his upper back, a second winding itself around his waist. Tucking his face into Regulus’s neck, Potter inhales deeply and then shudders… he didn’t realize how tense the older boy was until he suddenly relaxed.
“Are you… uh, alright?”
Potter snorts. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
How could I not be alright? I'm standing here in your arms, aren't I?
Of course, Regulus would offer himself as a human sacrifice to the leader of the nearest vampire clan before he'd ever admit something so cringey aloud. But in the safety of his own head, he can confess the truth - his anxiety has dipped since they embraced, and the future, both the immediate and further out, doesn’t seem so daunting if this is his reward for enduring it all.
The stupid little voice in the back of Regulus's head, the one that always wants to ruin any good thing he has, warns him not to get used to this sort of thing. It reminds him that it’s dangerous to put such trust in another person, that by opening up and sharing his thoughts, feelings, and innermost dreams, he’s behaving naively, you’re a Black, you're supposed to be above such childish desires. By continuing down this path, the ONLY future you’re going to have is one riddled with disappointment and regret. Or worse, betrayal.
And who knows, maybe the voice is right. Perhaps by accepting such self-indulgent comforts, Regulus is damning himself to unfathomable pain and suffering later down the line. But… that’s future-Regulus’s problem, innit?
“Just because something unfortunate happened to me, it doesn’t mean everyone else’s problems disappeared.”
“I love it when you randomly drop your life advice and wisdom on me." Potter tightens his hold when he tries to pull away. "Noooo, I’m being sincere!”
"Sounds fake, but okay," Regulus sniffs. "You still didn't answer my question."
For the second time this morning, a feather-light kiss is pressed into his neck. “I promise I'm being sincere. But I dunno, I’m just really glad you’re okay, Regulus. It uh… it really didn’t look good at first. Sirius was convinced you were, ya know…”
Sure, drowning sucked. But standing on the pier, helplessly watching his brother sink lower and lower, unable to do anything except pray that someone else saves him? No fucking thank you.
“Mmm, I can’t decide if Death absolutely despises me, or if he actually likes me, which is why I’m still alive.”
Loosening his grip, Potter peers confusedly at him. “You think Death is a real person… er, being? Like in the stories?”
“Of course,” Regulus says slowly, like he’s talking to a child. “Doesn’t everyone think that? Since, you know, it’s true.”
“I can confirm, most people do not think that… aww, wait, do you believe in Father Christmas too?”
This time, when Regulus pulls away, the Gryffindor lets him go. “That is not the same thing!”
“If you say so, darling,” Potter hums, tucking a lock of Regulus’s hair behind his ear. The Slytherin vehemently screams at himself to not blush. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’re blocking the loo I’d really like to use.”
Hissing through his teeth, Regulus is in the midst of preparing a fantastic argument when two things happen in quick succession; Potter presses their lips together in a chaste, heart-stopping kiss. Then, he spins around Regulus to enter the lavatory, the door clicking shut before the younger boy can even think to react.
When Regulus ambles back over to his brother and Lupin, Sirius eyes him with obvious worry. “Alright, Reg?”
Without preamble, the question tumbles from Regulus's lips. “Do you believe Death is an actual being, like in the stories, or just a concept?”
"Regulus Arcturus," visibly tensing, splashes of crimson rise to Sirius's cheeks, “why would you ask me something like that?!”
Merlin, I hope he’s not going to be this sensitive forever.
Head resting on Sirius's shoulder, looking half-asleep, Lupin murmurs, "Siri... you ask random questions all the time with absolutely zero context. Can you really blame your brother for doing the same?"
"When it comes to dea-... that?! You better believe I'm gonna demand to know why!"
“Potter said most people don’t believe Death is a real being," Regulus explains, rolling his eyes. "Personally, I find that strange.”
Thankfully, his honest answer appeases his brother’s delicate sensibilities.
“Oh. Well, I dunno about anyone else, but I believe Death is a disgustingly attractive bloke who has difficulty making friends and struggles to maintain a healthy work/life balance, in part because he’s ridiculously busy, all the time. It also doesn't help that he endures constant criticism and backlash simply for doing his job." Sirius's eyes narrow. "I don't need to point out how unfair that is, do I, little star?"
Regulus blinks, and blinks again... then exchanges a quick 'what the fuck' look with Lupin. "Erm... no. I understand."
"Good. So, all of that has created deep-rooted trust issues and one of those, ‘It’s me against the world’ mentalities. Totally understandable, of course." Everything is said very matter-of-factly, like it's an undeniable truth. "Not to mention, people are intimidated by his beauty, something I can so relate to."
"I see."
(Regulus most certainly does NOT see.)
"It’s the Fates you’ve gotta watch out for, Reggie, they’re the ones that make all the decisions.”
Blimey, leave it to Sirius to dream up a headcanon for Death.
“Yeahhhh, uh, sorry for asking.”
With a perfectly straight face, Sirius finishes his spiel with, "So, to answer your question, I agree with James. I think death is a concept, not a bloke. A lowercase 'd', if you will."
"... I hate you so much."
Notes:
Revengers, Protectors of the Planets, Raveneye, MagnificientMan, + Catman and Warbler are spin-offs of superhero comic books. Points to anyone who guesses what the 'real life' version is ;)
Chapter 31: Slytherin Brotherhood
Notes:
From the last chapter:
Revengers - Avengers
Protectors of the Planets - Guardians of the Galaxy
Raveneye - Hawkeye
MagnificientMan - Superman
Catman and Warbler - Batman and Robin
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Sirius is adamant he 'must' accompany Regulus to Madam Pomfrey’s office.
Naturally, Regulus objects to this request demand.
"I'm not a child, brother. I don't need you, or anyone else for that matter, to hold my hand while I talk to the school nurse."
Sticking his nose where it doesn't belong... again... Potter is quick to retort with, "Technically, we're ALL children. You're just ever-so-slightly younger."
Thinks he's so cute and cunning, does he? the Slytherin hisses in his head. Not on my watch!
To cultivate an air of nonchalance, Regulus takes a leaf out of Lupin's book and pretends to inspect his nails. "Suppose I can't argue with that logic." Self-satisfaction oozes off the Gryffindor; it makes Regulus want to kiss smack his stupid face. "Though, I do find it rather curious how you chose that particular argument."
"Why?"
"Well, it's just that..." Gray eyes meet hazel eyes. "Severus said something incredibly similar the other day."
With a grin that stretches from ear to ear, Sirius claps his friend on the shoulder. "Great minds think alike!" He either doesn't notice... or elects to ignore... the way Potter blanches at his statement. "But come on, let's go, Reggie. The faster we talk to Madam Pomfrey, the faster you can get out of here."
Regulus protests some more, because it's the principle of the matter, but his efforts are halfhearted at best; in the end, he’s glad for the company.
Because nothing could EVER have prepared him for what she had to say.
“She’s off her rocker!” Sirius angrily shouts as soon as the giant doors to the Hospital Wing close behind them. “She’s lost it, no doubt about it. Regulus will NOT be doing it, it’s completely barmy!!!”
Walking hand-in-hand with his new boyfriend, Lupin shrugs. “I mean -”
“I agree, mate!” Potter cuts in, because of course he does. “It’s insane, she’s clearly trying some hippy alternative medicine Lily probably told her about. There’s no way a certified Mind Healer would recommend something as senseless as that.”
Regulus has no idea what hippy medicine is, but regardless, he respects Madam Pomfrey’s qualifications and is hesitant to forgo her advice.
Eyes focused on the stones beneath his feet, he whispers, “I think she makes a good point."
In theory, her suggestion is simple.
Now that his lessons on underwater creatures are over, Professor Kettleburn is scheduled to deconstruct the pier on Monday morning. Prior to that happening, Madam Pomfrey recommends Regulus walks the length of it. According to ‘medical professionals’, after someone experiences a traumatic event, many will unconsciously try to ‘heal’ themselves by actively avoiding that which caused their distress; in Regulus’s case, water (or more specifically, being underwater) would be his ‘trigger’. Avoidance seems like a good solution on the surface, as it prevents unwanted negative feelings or emotions from arising. Yet in reality, it’s not a healthy coping mechanism, because it only feeds the anxiety. She heavily stressed that Regulus didn't need to go for another dip into the lake, but he should engage in certain practices early on, like walking across the pier, taking a bath and dunking his head underwater, showering, etc, to fend off any phobias that may crop up after almost drowning.
And as much as Regulus hates to admit it to himself, I certainly know better than to tell anyone else, Sirius especially, she’s spot on about the increased levels of fear.
Earlier in the loo, he stared longingly at the shower, wishing he could take one. His incapability had nothing to do with a lack of sufficient time or being prohibited from doing so; plain and simple, Regulus was too frightened to stand under the spray of the shower, too terrified of the memories he knew would resurface the moment the water cascaded down his body. He told himself he'll shower tonight once he's back in the dorm, but it’ll assuredly be a battle against himself.
Thankfully, his brother is an expert at household and personal care charms; Sirius had Regulus’s hair and robes freshened without a word passed between them.
“I concur." Lupin steadfastly maintains his opinion, in spite of Sirius’s outraged squawk and 'betrayed' glare. “Madam Pomfrey never said he needed to cross the pier on his own, you can join him -”
"I think you meant 'we',” Potter corrects stubbornly. “We will join Regulus. Should something go wrong, Sirius cannot swim either, if you recall.”
In the mind of Sirius Orion Black III, there's one surefire course of action to ensure he gets his way - cause a scene. (Which is legitimately SO effective, Regulus can't begrudge his brother for choosing such a route.)
Stopping in the middle of the hallway, the Black heir screeches, “WHICH IS EXACTLY WHY REGULUS SHOULDN’T GO ANYWHERE NEAR THAT CURSED LAKE -”
With only the portraits around to hear Sirius's shrieking, it makes it much easier for Regulus to stand his ground.
“I’m doing it,” the Slytherin interrupts, lifting his head to meet his brother’s gaze. “Tomorrow.” His eyes move to Potter. “By myself.”
Sirius puffs up in preparation of hollering some more, and Regulus seriously… heh… weighs the pros and cons of running away, the classic, 'Is that a zit on your chin?' diversion always works, but would the brief escape be worth it when Siri finally catches up? Hmm... decisions, decisions.
Regulus's inner debate will never be answered; salvation comes in the form of Justin Fawley, the greatest Quidditch Captain and housemate a bloke could have.
“Regulus!” the Slytherin Captain calls, rushing down the corridor towards them.
Dressed in their practice uniform, Justin’s hair is in disarray, but more in the ‘I’m stressed’ sense, rather than the ‘I’ve just gotten off my broom’ sense… speaking of Quidditch, fuck, I missed our team meeting!
“Umm… hi, sorry for -” Regulus lets out a startled oof when he's swept into a bone-crushing hug, one that literally lifts him off his feet.
“I just spoke with your cousins,” Justin murmurs, still clutching onto him. “They told me about what happened in your class. I’m so sorry, Regulus. Fuck, you have no idea how sorry I am.”
“S’okay!” he squeaks out, it's a pity Narcissa and Andromeda aren't here to strike a new bet; what's going to kill cousin Regulus first? The lack of air, or the full-body blush burning him from the inside out? “Not your fault.”
"Maybe not directly, but -"
“Mate, I’m going to absolutely lose my shit if you break his ribs,” his brother drawls from behind them. “And I swear on our mother's grave, you will not like the result of me losing shit."
A healthy dose of irony for the day; taken aback by Sirius's unexpected 'news', Justin's arms instinctively flex, squeezing Regulus even tighter.
"It's true, all of Gryffindor knows Sirius is a maniac," Potter ardently insists, he must operate under the belief that he'll keel over and die if he misses an opportunity to put his two sickles in. It's the only explanation for why he always has a smart aleck comment at the ready. "I don't recommend testing him."
Finding his voice, the older Slytherin gasps, "Your mum died?!"
"An amendment to my previous warning... if you break any of his bones, not just his ribs, I will lose my shit."
"Regulus, your mum dying is the sort of thing you tell your friends about!"
"On the off-chance you weren't aware, my brother JUST got out of the Hospital Wing!”
"And in case you need a reminder, we are friends - "
(Regulus did know that, actually!... but he's pretty short on oxygen right now, so he can only make a noncommittal hum in response - hopefully that's enough to convey his understanding.)
"LET HIM GO, FAWLEY!" Sirius shouts, tugging on Justin's muscular arms. "He's turning blue, you fucking moron -"
"Unless you're intending to replace the best player on your team?" Potter asks in a tone dripping with scorn. "Which, friendly advice... not a good idea. Having witnessed Slytherin's mid-season tryout last semester, I think it's safe to say Regulus has more talent in his pinky, than 90% of those wannabe Seekers have in their entire bodies!"
Oh.
That's just...
Wow.
Thankfully, Justin is supporting Regulus's weight, because otherwise, he would have swooned... and although he hails from one of the richest wizarding families in Europe, if there's one thing he cannot afford, it's a concussion.
"For as long as Regulus is at Hogwarts, he has a spot on the team." With great care, the Captain places his Seeker back on the ground. “Salazar, so sorry though, got a bit carried away. But what's this about your mum?!"
Turning to his brother, Regulus cocks an eyebrow. "That is a great question, Siri. How about you answer it, since that's also news to me?"
The Gryffindor-Black juts his chin out. "She's dead to me."
"You got what you wanted in the end," Regulus reminds his sibling, Merlin, what melodrama! "So, that's a bit extreme, don't you think?"
"I did, but no thanks to her... all things considered, she should be dead to you as well, Reggie!"
"Unlike you, brother, I'm not so easily offended -"
"Easily offended, am I?!" Sirius snarls. "You aren't upset by her behavior?"
Figuring, 'I'm used to it' won't go over well with a bunch of Gryffindors, Regulus decides to keep it simple. "No."
"Well," the Black heir scoffs, "maybe you should be more easily offendable, huh? Did you ever think of that?!"
Sensing an opening, Justin clears his throat. "Right, uh anyways. Are you alright, Regulus?"
Am I ever alright? the youngest Black grumbles in his head. Hmm, let me think... that's a big fat NOPE.
But Justin's genuine concern doesn't deserve a sarcastic response.
“I’m cleared for all activities, so I’ll be at our next -”
“To hell with Quidditch!” his Captain yells, his expression thunderous. Regulus almost takes a step back, unfamiliar with this level of rage coming from the older boy. “You could have died, Regulus!"
"Um... t-true. But I didn't!" the younger Slytherin responds meekly. "Yay?"
Oh dear, now he's really mad...
With the burning passion of a thousand suns, Regulus hates it when someone he cares about is upset with him. It has nothing to do with being afraid they're going to hurt him physically; hell, if anything, it's more about the risk of being hurt emotionally. Not to mention, the shame and self-disgust he feels for disappointing them is never a pleasant experience.
"You SWORE to me Travers was only bothering you on the pitch, and all of it ended when he got booted off the team!" I lied. Obviously. "Were you telling me the truth?"
The younger Slytherin opens his mouth to respond to Justin, but Sirius quickly cuts in. "Were you telling him the truth, Regulus?"
As a great poet once said - fucketh me.
To avoid triggering his brother's innate 'Regulus is lying to me' sixth sense, he attempts to take the conversation in a different direction. "It was a 'crime of opportunity', so to speak." Both Justin's and Sirius's eyes narrow, ughhh fuck fuck fuck. "I should have been paying more attention -"
"It was NOT your fault, Reg," Potter interjects waspishly. "In any way, shape, or form."
"Agreed!" Sirius chirps, Lupin nodding solemnly next to him.
"Pardon, but when precisely did I say it was my fault? Look, Potter, you really -"
Raising his voice to drown out Regulus's complaints, Justin says, "I agree with him too." Shutting his mouth, the youngest Black glares balefully at Gryffindor's smarmiest Chaser. "Are you going to report Travers?... right, of course not." With a sigh, the older Slytherin looks over Regulus’s shoulder. “I told your cousins as well, but if you need anything from me, anything whatsoever, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Sirius exchanges a brief series of glances with his coalition of lions; Regulus doesn't miss the way Lupin subtly inclines his head. “Might catch up with you later, actually. Exchange ideas, trade insider knowledge. Ya know, that sort of thing.”
“You promised you wouldn’t retaliate, brother!”
“But I didn’t,” Justin asserts, at the same time Sirius mutters, “But he didn’t.”
Shouldering the eldest Black brother out of the way, Potter reaches for Regulus's hand. “I also didn’t promise such a thing, Reg. And it would be reprehensible of me to not partake in this retaliation effort."
"It's being taken care of," Regulus growls, wrenching his hand back. He ignores Justin's assessing gaze on them. "As I'm sure you already know!"
Potter grimaces. "Is it, though?"
"What precisely are you trying to insinuate, James Potter?!"
"Erm..." Potter looks helplessly to his best mate... who stares blankly back.
Oddly enough, his salvation also comes in the form of Justin Fawley.
"You know what?" The older boy's (jaw-droppingly) handsome face takes on a thoughtful expression, one Regulus usually associates with risky, but utterly brilliant Quidditch plays. "For the best result, this really should be a joint effort." His smile turns sly. "I believe there are some redheaded twins in my year who've dubbed themselves your biggest fans, Reg?"
"Actually, that title has already been taken -"
Lupin, bless him, grabs his friend by the ear and pulls him off to the side. "Not the time, Prongs."
"Oooh, I'm impressed... that's a superb idea, mate!" Eyes shifting from his younger brother to his boyfriend, Sirius's lips abruptly drop into a frown. "I should probably have a talk with them anywho, huh?"
"Don't trouble yourself over it, we're fine," Lupin answers.
Potter snorts. "So far."
What's all that about?
"Regardless, they've probably cooked up some inspired ideas lately," Sirius gleefully proclaims, rubbing his hands together like a low-rate villain in a children's story.
This time, it’s Regulus who puffs up in preparation of shouting - this thing between himself and Travers has spread WAY too far as it is. It's bad enough that Sirius dragged their parents into it, and Father's dragging in Uncle Alphard, which means by extension, Uncle Gio will be involved. Possibly Bellatrix too. Now, they're planning to add Fabian and Gideon into the mix? Bloody hell, why don't they just put an ad in the Daily Prophet while they're at it?!
A pair of newcomers turn the corner, preventing Regulus from giving these meddling boys a piece of his mind.
“REG!” Regulus winces when Evan slams into him. He then quickly finds himself wrapped in a too tight bear-hug, definitely going to have bruises tomorrow, yikes. “Are you alright?! We wanted to visit you yesterday, but Pandora convinced us to wait until morning, though jeez, I definitely should have listened to my gut! Cuz Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t let us in, said you were still sleeping, so of course, I politely requested," he glares at Barty, "to talk to Sirius, cuz there was no way he went back to Gryffindor last night, but she said he was asleep too, even though it was like 9am, which duh, I obviously did not believe, except she was adamant neither of you were to have visitors -”
“Have you officially been freed, or is this a jailbreak?” Barty quips, interrupting their best friend's uncharacteristic word vomit. He then carefully removes Evan off the youngest Black.
Sucking in a giant breath once he's released, Regulus croaks, “Free.”
“I’ll catch up with you lot later, yeah?” Justin laughs. “Oh, before I forget, Pierre sends his regards." Sirius makes a noise in the back of his throat, one Regulus knows signifies disgust. "I can't thank you enough for your help the other day, we both greatly appreciate it." His gaze lands on the Gryffindor-Black. "Both of you." The two older boys share a long, indecipherable (to Regulus at least) look.
“Sounds good, happy to help, thank you!” the Slytherin Seeker says in a rush, lest Justin picks up on his brother's weird dislike of his former (maybe on-again?) boyfriend.
After the seventh-year leaves, Sirius eyes the younger Slytherins contemplatively. “You three up for brunch on the Quidditch Pitch with us?” He smiles fondly at his sibling’s hopeful expression. “Yes, Reggie, of course we can go flying for a bit afterwards. But only once enough time passes for our food to digest! Can’t have anyone -”
“That was one time!” Regulus complains, already knowing what his brother is going to say. “And I was seven -”
“Still, if it happened once, it can -”
Tossing an arm around Regulus’s shoulders, then the other around Evan's, Barty expertly cuts the Black heir off mid-sentence. “The three of us will meet you out there, yeah?” Without waiting for Sirius to respond, he begins shepherding his introverted friends down the corridor. “We’ll have whatever Reg’s having, and don’t forget our brooms too, please and thank you! It’s so fortunate you know exactly where they are, huh?”
“Along with everything else we own, I'm sure,” Evan mutters under his breath.
Glancing behind him, Regulus juts his bottom lip out. “Please don’t forget the carafe of coffee either!”
“I would never!” Sirius cries, placing a hand over his heart. “Who do you take me for?”
“A git.”
“A prat.”
Right as they’re turning the corner, Evan cheerily adds, “The biggest slag at Hogwarts!”
“Everyone is so mean to me, Moons, can you believe it?!” Sirius whines, which is followed by Potter's enabling mollifying, "Aww, don't be upset, Padfoot. The non-Regulus's are envious of your beauty and popularity, that's all."
"You're so right! Those jealous ninnies wish they were me!"
"If we were to take a poll, I bet that would be a common desire among Hogwarts students," Potter continues, not a single drop of sarcasm to be found anywhere in his statement.
"Don't count me among that number," Lupin says neutrally.
Sharing a wordless glance, the Slytherin trio retraces their steps. Risking a quick peek around the corner, the youngest Black shifts uncomfortably under his friend's arm. The hurt radiating in his brother's eyes is clear as day, and Regulus doesn't like it one bit.
"I'm with Remus on this. Considering how I've been... ya know..."
As Potter's closest friend, Sirius has no trouble finishing his best mate's sentence. "Fraternizing with my little brother?"
"Yeah... that."
"For me," Lupin calmly remarks, after all the nice things Cissa, Andie, and I said to Father in defense of his relationship with Sirius, he better not mess this up, "it'd be nice to be breathtakingly beautiful, but I haven't the slightest interest in dating myself, you see."
Oh, thank the Fates.
Previous angst forgotten, Sirius dazedly asks, "You think I'm beautiful? Breathtakingly so?"
"Of course," Lupin responds, using a tone Regulus regularly uses with his brother. It essentially translates to, 'I-thought-you-were-supposed-to-be-smart-but-you're-sounding-REALLY-dumb-right-now'. "But let's talk and walk, gents, yeah? Unless you want Regulus to get bored waiting for you and wander away?"
With an unnerving ferocity, Sirius counters with, "Doesn't matter where he goes, or how far away he is from me, I will find him."
Catching his eye, Evan mouths, "Cocky much?"
"Don't forget 'creepy'," Regulus mouths back, rolling his eyes.
"And if my little star knows what's good for him, he'll take his butt to the pitch and STAY there until we arrive!"
Sweet Merlin's muffins! He knows we're still here, Regulus's mind screams. Abort mission, retreat, retreat!
The desire to flee increases tenfold when he realizes Lupin's voice is now closer than it was moments ago. "I'm sure he's more patient than you, but everyone has their limits -"
Before Regulus can signal his friends to hightail it out of there, the Gryffindor Chaser clears his throat. "Would you like to hear an interesting fact, Siri?" Potter's voice is heavy with indeterminate emotion, piquing the younger boys' interests.
"Let's not perpetuate a lie, mate. You're going to tell me this 'interesting fact' regardless if I want to hear it or not."
Well, that sounds bloody familiar, doesn't it? Regulus scoffs in his head. Sirius Black and James Potter really are two peas from the same pod!
"Very true! But there's a certain pair of posh wankers I know, who insist proper manners should be exhibited at all times. I'm courteously respecting their wishes."
This time, it's Barty who catches his eye. "He means you." His friend looks delighted by this fact, rather than offended on Regulus's behalf.
The voices aren't coming any closer, so the Slytherins hold their positions.
"Did you, Sirius Orion Black the third, know that your unparalleled beauty turns our Moony into a poet?" (Regulus makes a mental note to harass Potter at a later date for the story behind that remark... he also makes a second note to plot some sort of revenge, how dare he call me a posh wanker?! He's one to talk!)
"Really?... wait, nuh uh, you're pulling my leg. See, this is why I have trust issues!"
"I solemnly swear, I am telling the truth."
"Remus? What's Jamie talking about?"
With an audible sigh, Lupin dutifully recites, "A beacon of beauty, a breathtaking sight. With grace in your step and stars in your eyes, you're a symphony of wonder, under celestial skies. Amidst the whispers of the darkened hue, your laughter rings, pure and true. A tapestry of dreams in your gaze lies, a portrait of perfection, where beauty never dies."
Barty voices what Regulus is thinking. "Oi, what the hell?! Remus Lupin is smooth!"
In the corridor outside the Hospital Wing, there's a very long, very awkward pause.
Eventually, Potter heaves a weighty sigh. "You know the rules, Remus. You break it, you fix it."
"It was your idea, James."
"Ugh, okay, I'll take the blame for that one." Potter clicks his tongue. "Right, so here's what we're going to do. Remus and I are going to head upstairs and change. We'll get our brooms and pack a few vials of sunscreen potion. While we do that, Siri will go down to Slytherin, change and freshen up, then gather whatever our snake pals require. We'll rendezvous in the kitchen at precisely twelve hundred hours." There another pause, which is appreciated, because Regulus needs a moment to catch his breath after that unexpectedly attractive display of leadership. "Sirius, your watch is gonna go off five minutes before noon as a reminder that it's time to leave for the kitchens. Any questions?"
"Nope!" Sirius squeaks. "Great plan. Perfect. Flawless. Best of the best, go Team Marauders! Kay, uh... bye bye, now."
That's all the warning they get; a heartbeat later, the Gryffindor-Black comes barreling around the corner. If he's surprised to 'discover' the three younger Slytherins standing there, who should be halfway to the Quidditch pitch by now, he doesn't show it.
With a face so red, it could fry an egg in seconds, Sirius growls, "Not a word, brats!"
They wait until he's out of earshot to poke their heads back around the corner. "It's rare for my brother to be short on words, but I can assure you, he enjoyed your poem," Regulus says without preamble. Admittedly, it's a huge relief to see Lupin looking amused, rather than upset.
Potter's expression lights up. "Reg!"
"For what it's worth, we liked it, too!" Barty gives Lupin two thumbs up, before dragging his friends away. Again. "See you later, gents!"
Glancing over his shoulder, Regulus locks eyes with a certain Gryffindor Chaser. "And should you ever feel the need to refer to me as a 'posh wanker' again, James Potter, keep it to yourself, yeah? Because I can assure you, speaking it aloud will unleash consequences far worse than anything you can possibly dream of." Mimicking cousin Bella's best mocking smile, he takes pleasure in the way Potter visibly gulps. "Bye bye, now."
They're in the Entrance Hall when, without warning, Evan stops short.
"Wait wait wait, let's wind it back... not only are Sirius and Lupin talking again, but they're also dating?!" he whisper-shrieks. "What the FUCK happened yesterday, Regulus?!"
"So much, Ev," Regulus snorts. "So damn much."
As soon as the castle doors close behind them, Barty casts a muffling charm around their group. There's only a few random students outside, so there's only one reason for the precaution. Keeping his gaze straight ahead, Regulus fills his two friends in on the major points of what happened yesterday, all of it … while skimming over Mother’s words, most of his cousins’ and brother’s ‘secrets’, and completely cutting out his own pre-bedtime breakdown.
“Merlin, Reg!” Barty whistles when he finishes, a good fifteen minutes later. With a simple wordless gesture, they agree to sit on the grass in the center of the Quidditch pitch. Analyzing the innerworkings of Sirius Black's brain is not a task to be taken lightly, but Regulus presumes this is what his brother had in mind when he suggested a picnic. “Has your life always been this complicated?! I never would have guessed that Travers trying to off you was the LEAST interesting thing that happened to you yesterday.”
Plopping down in a rather ungraceful manner, Regulus grimaces. “No, it’s usually not like this, thank the Fates.” Generally, his life is uneventful and boring, exactly as he prefers it. “Also, not sure if ‘interesting’ is the word I’d use to describe my life these last few months.” Chaotic, headache-inducing, unnecessarily stressful, those are more apt descriptors… although, Regulus would do it all over again if it meant keeping the bright parts too - reconnecting with his brother, the entanglement with Potter, meeting Wylan Honeywood, Narcissa, Andromeda, and Sirius getting along (mostly), the impossible-to-fathom truce between Severus and Sirius.
“Where do I even begin after that wild story?” Evan asks, sitting beside him.
Towering over them, Barty raises his hand high into the air, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Ooh, I know, I know! Pick me, pick me!"
"Sit down, would you?!" Regulus moves his hands to his lap, not keen on the idea of them being crushed by his freakishly tall friend. "You're giving me anxiety... or rather, more anxiety than I typically have."
Heeding his request, Barty is also kind enough to brush an errant curl out of Regulus's face. "I want Sirius to teach me how to shake off a house elf's Silencing Charm! The look on my old man's face after I break through Winky's magic... ooh, I could use it to fuel the strongest Patronus charm anyone has ever cast!" A cruel sneer curls upon his lips. "One so strong, it could obliterate every single Dementor in Azkaban." An uneasiness settles in the pit of Regulus's stomach, possibly caused by the sheer amount of malevolence in his friend's tone... Sirius's 'hatred' for Mother doesn't come anywhere close to how much Barty loathes his father. "And before you say it, yes, I know that's not how a Patronus works. But my point still stands."
"You'll have to ask him yourself, but I'm sure he'll be agreeable," Regulus murmurs pacifically. "Now, whether he can explain it in a manner that makes sense to a non-Sirius is an entirely different story."
“I, for one, am glad Sirius and Lupin finally got their shit together," Evan says. "However, I must confess, I'm shocked all of this started as a result of Lupin scheming to get you and your brother to spend more time together.”
"Trust me, I'm right there with you!" Despite the bad shit that's happened in the last two weeks... like Smith shearing his hair off, accidentally ingesting magical brownies, Travers's murder attempt... Regulus owes Lupin a lot, doesn't he? "It makes me feel kinda guilty for attacking him -"
"No," his friends interject at the same time.
Evan quickly adds, "He had it coming."
"Perhaps," Regulus shrugs. "At the very least, I should send him a token of my appreciation, like a gift basket or something." Maybe one with fancy meats and a variety of cheeses? Lupin seems like the type of enlightened bloke who appreciates a good cut of beef. "Something along the lines of, 'Thank you for embracing your inner Slytherin side, also sorry for mauling your face'?"
Barty sprawls out on his stomach across from them. “You do you, my darling friend. But might wanna mention it to your brother ahead of time, so he doesn't see it as you making a move on his man." The Slytherin Seeker shudders at the mental image of a jealous-Sirius descending upon him in a fit of rage. "Now, circling back to the load of information you just dropped on us, I find it especially curious how you failed to mention your summer adventures with death before today. For perspective, Reg, we are MIDWAY through September!"
“Slipped my mind,” Regulus remarks mostly-truthfully, though he can’t help but grin at his friends’ matching scowls. He had no intention of telling them today either, but an overly perceptive-Evan kept asking question after question in a bid to 'understand Sirius's behavior', and it slipped out. “For me, I’m relieved that Father seems to be alright with, you know, uh… my brother and I. At least for now.”
Both of his friends nod in understanding.
“I don’t think that’ll change either,” Barty says with a confidence Regulus wishes he could share. Salazar, if what Father said was true (and Regulus has no reason to think the Black patriarch lied, it’s just that the entire thing toes the line between ‘plausible’ and ‘utterly unfathomable’), it feels like one giant cosmic joke at his expense. For years, he’s anguished over what would happen if his family found out his preferences; apparently, they found out at the same time Regulus did, if not before! “He can’t risk losing both of his heirs by reversing course. And if your folks knew all along that you fancied blokes, they’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with it.”
“Personally, I feel bad for your old man,” Evan chuckles, lightly bumping his shoulder against Regulus’s. “He’s never going to escape the, ‘I was right, and you were wrong', or the, 'I told you so, but you never listen to me’ comments until the day he dies. Blimey, and if there is an afterlife, they’ll follow him there too!”
Regulus isn’t as sympathetic as his friend. “It’s Father’s own fault, really. How could he realize the truth about me, but completely miss my brother? It just doesn’t make sense!”
“Stereotyping, most likely.” Barty leers at him. “Sirius is broad shouldered and surprisingly muscular -"
"Spent a lot of time ogling him these last two weeks, have you?" Evan drawls.
The taller Slytherin waves a hand airily. "Dear Merlin, 'course not! I wouldn't want to risk you thinking I was a making a move on your man, now, would I? Ooh, but so sorry, love, he apparently belongs to someone else -" With a wicked cackle, Barty artfully dodges Evan's retaliating kick.
"How was I stereotyped?" Regulus prods, hiding his amusement behind a cough.
"Ahem... here we have the firstborn son, whose got a manly frame and all that tosh. Then, we have the youngest son, who is a beautiful, delicate flower -” He trails off when Regulus aims his wand right between his eyes. “Aww, darling, you know I’m only teasing ya. I dunno why your dad caught onto you, but not Mister Priss. Willful ignorance?"
Appeased, the youngest Black slips his wand back into its holster. "It must be. I know Father has seen my brother when he's in the same room as Matthias… Sirius moons over him, it’s horrendously embarrassing to watch!”
“What a terrible pun!” Evan groans, shaking his head, while Barty boos him outright. “You should be ashamed.”
Potter would have found that funny.
“You’re not allowed to criticize me for at least a week. I almost died, ya know!”
Way to kill the mood, Regulus internally mutters to himself when their faces fall. Again, this is why you hardly have any friends.
Biting his lip, Barty murmurs, “What do you think is going to happen to Larson’s family?”
“Normally, I’d assume they’d go for the heir,” Evan responds when Regulus hesitates, “but Larson’s one of three, yeah? And he’s the youngest.”
“He is, and I’m not sure what’s going to happen to them,” Regulus admits softly. His friends know him too well, unfortunately; both are quick to inquire as to what’s bothering him. “I’m not… I don’t even know, honestly!” He half-shrugs. “I trust Father much more than my brother to ‘take care of things’, but I just have a bad feeling about it all, I guess.”
Regulus doesn’t miss the look Evan and Barty share, though he’s not sure what it means, they’re probably tired of me being a downer all the time.
The silence is broken by a sound reminiscent of his brother’s bark-like laugh, but Barty swiftly changes the topic to something that captures their full attention. “Back to more important matters.” He winks lewdly at Regulus. “I’m still a bit miffed that you and Ev are leaving me all by my lonesome to snog each other. It hurts a bloke’s feelings. Makes me feel unwanted and unloved, ya know?”
“We’ll invite you next time,” Regulus proposes, mostly joking.
It’s odd. Generally, Regulus isn't a fan of physical affection, but he definitely enjoys snogging. Granted, he’s less opposed to being touched if it’s coming from someone he’s close with, plus he’s only snogged two people - his longtime best friend and the bloke he might fancy a tiny bit. With that being said, Regulus isn’t opposed to snogging Barty by any means, but Barty is a lot bolder than Evan… caught up in the heat of the moment, he could easily see a line being crossed. And while ‘friends with benefits’ might work for some people, Regulus is absolutely certain he isn’t one of them (snogging doesn’t count as a benefit in his mind, because he can engage in such activities with or without feelings involved. But going further than that would definitely involve icky things like emotions).
In a voice that is nowhere close to casual, Evan asks, “Will there even be a next time, Reg? Based on what you told your father, aren’t you supposed to be courting Potter?”
“I’m going to wait a few weeks to start,” Regulus mumbles, feeling his cheeks heat at the thought. “Let things settle down first.” See if Potter still hangs around after Sirius goes back to Gryffindor.
“Fantastic!” Barty scoots forward until he’s right in front of Regulus. “Think you’ve got some love leftover for your most handsome best mate?” To ensure his point is made, he puckers his lips and makes loud, cringey kissing sounds.
“You want some of my love,” Regulus turns to Evan, “my most handsome best mate?”
Leaning closer, Evan flutters his eyelashes and purrs, “From you, Regulus? Always.”
“You’re both slags!”
“Supposedly, Grandmother has a list of potential suitors in mind for me,” Regulus divulges (he 'forgot' to mention it earlier, but now he can't resist), “and you, Evan dearest, are at the top.”
Both of his friends start talking at once.
“Oi, Reg, I’m in the second spot, right?... oh, that’s such bollocks, my lineage is JUST as pure as the Rosier’s!” Barty crosses his arms over his chest with a petulant scowl. “Now, I really feel left out!”
“That means either my mother or my sisters squealed to someone in your family! Reg, bloody hell, it’s like a conspiracy! Who can we trust besides each other?... you didn’t tell anyone, right?”
Regulus sighs. “Ev, I had no idea until you told me the other day.” His best mate’s ‘are you serious?’ expression makes him feel awful. “I'm so sorry.”
“Nah, upon reflection, I would have been more surprised if you knew before I told you. Besides, assuming is always risky. It's best to get confirmation first."
It's a poignant reminder as to why Regulus adores Evan with all his heart.
“Let your folks know I’m an equal opportunist,” Barty sniffs. “Actually, don't bother. I’ll have my mum contact your Grandmother, get myself in the running for your hand in marriage.” He glares at Evan, conveniently forgetting that his dad hates the Blacks... Regulus decides it's best not to mention it. “And not only will I win, but Reg will then see he should have been snogging me all along!”
They both know Barty will hold this ‘slight’ over them until they graduate… and probably far beyond that. And why let that happen, when there’s such an easy solution?
Before Barty can move away, Regulus grabs the side of his face and crushes their lips together. The kiss is short, maybe fifteen seconds at most, but Regulus puts his all into it. He thought he’d have to fight Barty for control, but either his friend is too stunned to react, or he’s simply content to let Regulus lead (he still refuses to gamble, but he'd bet every coin in his family’s vaults that it’s the former).
When they separate, Barty’s eyes are wide, and there’s a pink flush underneath his freckles. It's immensely satisfying to see his outgoing, loud, and confident friend looking so thoroughly-snogged.
“Happy now?” If there’s a smugness in Regulus's voice, it’s not really his fault, is it? “Though, in the essence of fairness, you should snog Evan, too.”
Wellll, isn’t that curious? ! Regulus internally hums when he realizes both of his friends are now blushing.
“You were the last one,” Evan mumbles, pointedly not looking at either Barty or Regulus.
“We uh… got into a bit of a row last night about the Travers thing. I was planning to go off and,” Barty slashes a finger across his throat, “but Ev said that would be frowned upon. So, to distract me from my mission, he used his Jezebel ways to bewitch me -”
“Did it work?”
Evan lifts his nose in the air. “Of course! How dare you?”
He playfully shoves his friend’s shoulder. “Can’t call my brother a slag if you’re going around snogging people like that.”
“I can if you don’t tell him!”
Regulus is about to ask how much the secret is worth to Evan, when a voice suddenly calls out, “Reggie!” Not five seconds later, his brother drops down in front of him and envelopes him in a crushing hug. “I missed youuuuuu!!!”
“W-why?” he stammers, all of the air smushed out of his lungs.
Glancing over his brother’s shoulder, he sees a small smile etched on Lupin’s face - it soothes Regulus’s worry that something happened in the time they were apart. But Potter won’t meet Regulus’s gaze, his expression stormy as he glares at… Barty.
Huh, that’s weird, Regulus thinks to himself. Wonder what that’s about?
He can’t keep up with all this Gryffindor drama! It’s unclear if Barty knows what’s wrong with Potter - he grins amicably at the Gryffindor Chaser, friendly and untroubled. Evan, though, Regulus can read him better than anyone; his best mate is staring challengingly at Potter, as if daring him to comment on… something.
"Are you lads excited for our picnic?" Sirius asks.
"Thrilled," Evan says, completely deadpan.
Flanking Regulus on both sides, his friends refuse to let Sirius ‘steal’ their spot. When his brother tries to sit beside him by essentially sitting on Evan, the younger Slytherin unceremoniously shoves the older boy off him.
He then attempts the same thing with Barty, which is massively stupid of him, really; Barty simply winds an arm around Sirius’s waist. “Please don’t take this as a complaint, but is it a good idea to sit on another bloke’s lap right in front of your new boyfriend?”
“I wouldn’t be on your lap if you’d move over!” Sirius childishly grumbles.
Two pairs of gray eyes drift to where Lupin is rifling through the picnic basket they brought down. He doesn’t look bothered, but they can’t really see much of his face.
Still standing, Potter looms over them. “Thought you liked being a homewrecker, Crouch?” he sneers.
It’s not going to work out if he hates your closest friends, his inner voice points out - it's a rare instance where Regulus can't argue with it.
Barty’s pleasant demeanor doesn’t falter. “Actually, some might say you’re the homewrecker, Potter.”
Merlin, what are they even talking about?! Feeling like he’s missing something important, Regulus tries to catch Evan’s eye, but his friend is intensely focused on Barty and Potter.
“James, come help me spread out the blanket, please,” Lupin calls, finally glancing up; he rolls his eyes when he sees what his boyfriend’s up to, lips quirking up in the corners. “Siri… really?”
“I wanna sit by Reggie! They’re denying me my natural born rights!”
The youngest Black tenses when he notices Barty’s sly expression. “I’m feeling generous today, so you can sit by him…” Sirius perks up, “if you help me with my Transfiguration essay -”
“Done.”
“You don’t even know what the topic is?”
Sirius shrugs. “Doesn’t matter, I'm an ace at Transfiguration.”
“Damn,” Barty mutters to himself. “Should have asked weeks ago… what about teaching me how to throw off a Silencing Charm from a house elf?"
"Sure, if you find one willing to help," Sirius agrees, exactly as Regulus thought he would. "Can't guarantee the results, though."
Notes:
Next chapter - Black brother shenanigans, more jealous James, and some overall silliness! It will also be the last chapter of Regulus's POV for the remainder of the story ;)
Chapter 32: A Peculiar Picnic
Notes:
Aww, this will be the last chapter from Regulus's point of view. But there's still several more chapters to come!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Once Lupin and Potter finish unpacking the picnic basket, they relocate to the blanket.
The food is arranged in a straight line, exactly like it would be if they were dining in the Great Hall. On one side of the divide, the youngest Black sits in the middle, with Evan on his right, and his self-satisfied brother claiming the seat on his left. Directly across from Regulus is Lupin, with Potter across from Sirius, and Barty in front of Evan. Whether it was intentional or not, he's thankful Lupin kept Barty and Potter separated; Regulus isn't sure what the deal is between them, but it would probably be unwise for them to be beside each other.
There’s a storm rolling in, so the temperature is a bit chillier than usual, I think the rain will hold off for today, though by this time tomorrow, it's going to be disgusting outside. Since the sun is shining brightly, he doesn't feel the need for a jacket, but Regulus appreciates the house elves' forethought. The food they prepared is perfect for the day's weather - grilled cheese and tomato bisque soup, another one of his all-time favorite comfort meals. Lupin smartly claims a thermos of steaming coffee for himself, and Regulus snatches the other, leaving the tea and pumpkin juice for everyone else. For dessert, they have fresh-from-the-oven peanut butter frosted brownies (which includes a lovely note, 'No potions were used in the making of Pipsy's Brilliant-Bad-Day-Begone Brownies').
It's funny how life works sometimes. Who would have thought that the countless passive-aggressive meals Regulus has sat through with his family would prepare him for this (mostly) non-Black picnic? The snide back-and-forth comments that Barty and Evan exchange with Potter, along with his brother's pitiful attempts at distracting them with random conversation topics, have zero impact on his high spirits. Consuming delicious food always puts Regulus in a good mood, even without a hearty dose of caffeine on the side - coffee is simply a bonus.
But after polishing off the last brownie, which he splits in half and shares with Lupin - the only person on this pitch that isn’t driving him insane - Regulus has had enough.
Without explaining himself, he abruptly stands and stalks over to the pile of brooms brought down from the castle, I’ll hover in mid-air for the next thirty minutes if I have to, anything to get away from this petty squabbling. Salazar's sandals, first years have better conflict resolution skills than this lot!
To Regulus's utmost horror, his genius escape plan is thwarted before it can even begin; when he reaches for his beautiful broom, his hand connects with an invisible barrier.
“Ow, what the hell?!” Holding his aching hand to his chest, he glares at his brother, who (of course) followed after him. “How DARE you keep my broom and I apart... fix this! At once!!”
Sirius’s brows furrow, faking his confusion, no doubt, he must think I was born yesterday. “One, I do not appreciate your attitude." Well, that's too damn bad, brother! Because I do not appreciate this back and forth blabbering. But at ANY point during our meal did you tell your best mate to get it together and stop ruining our picnic? No, of course not, because Merlin-forbid you ever speak out against James Potter! "And two, I didn’t do anything, so you can stop cussing me out in your head, please and thank you.”
Internally panicking, Regulus raises his Occlumency shields, what the fuck, how did he know?!
To ‘prove' his innocence, Sirius tries to grab his own broom; his hand meets the same wretched fate as Regulus’s, probably had one of his mates do it for plausible deniability... oh, I'm onto you, brother. You think you're so slick, but unlike our parents and professors, I know all of your tricks.
“If you and all your 'wisdom' can't remove the spell," more like won't, "then get one of your little Gryffindor buddies to do it!” He's disappointed but not surprised to find he's unable to pick up any of the brooms, not just his own. “I'm warning you now, Sirius... if I have to listen to another second of them sniping at each other, I will not be held liable for my actions!”
“Regulus Arcturus Black.” Sensing the incoming lecture, Regulus’s eye twitches; he’s so incredibly not in the mood to deal with Sirius on his high horse. “First of all, I doubt James or Remus did it either, cuz why would they? What purpose would it serve? And secondly, you’re a smart lad… why do you think James is suddenly in a tizzy, hmm?”
“I dunno -"
"Are you sure you don't know?"
"I don’t pretend to understand the way the proletariat thinks, Sirius!"
Ooh, that's creepy... his brother's ‘unimpressed’ demeanor is eerily reminiscent of the way Professor McGonagall looks whenever she has to discipline the four ‘Marauders’ after one of their more inconvenient/annoying pranks. “I so hate to burst your bubble, Reggie," another bold-faced lie, "but the Potters are right there with the Blacks in the upper class."
"But they're in the lower upper class," Regulus sniffs, determined to be right.
"Potato, tomato."
"Yeah, that's not how that saying goes. I believe you might be referring to -"
"Thinking aloud here," Sirius continues stubbornly, cutting the younger boy off, so fucking rude, "but I wonder if James's disgruntlement might be connected to the fact that we had the displeasure of witnessing you shove your tongue down ‘ole Bartemius's throat?" Glancing to the side, Regulus unintentionally catches Barty's eye; his friend then proceeds to wink at him. Coincidentally, Potter’s scowl intensifies. “The other day, when you saw James kiss me, do you remember how you felt in that moment? Cuz if so, you'll understand PRECISELY what he's going through right now."
“Oh.” It never occurred to him that the trio of Gryffindors might have been close enough to see... that. Oops. "Umm, thank you for explaining it, I understand now." Maybe? Sort of? Not really? His eyes drift back to the pile of brooms. "Could you please remove -"
"Which... really, Regulus?!" Sirius tuts, shaking his head. Regulus screams internally. He just wants to fly his broom, okay? "After everything you said to Father, you then decide to go and snog Barty?!"
"I'm sorry, brother." An apology is always a good place to start, yeah? "It was not my intention to cause conflict."
"I know, little star, and you certainly don't need to apologize to me." In spite of his brother's reassuring words and comforting smile, the intensity of Sirius's sigh has Regulus automatically tensing. "Well, I guess this is as good a time as any to discuss your promiscuous behavior -"
"NO!" Already, he can feel himself flushing from the overwhelming mortification. “It's not... there isn't... Barty was just being overly dramatic, saying he felt ‘left out’ because Evan and I used to occasionally… don’t you DARE laugh, brother, or I WILL bite you!... snog for practice." Regulus pauses, on the off-chance his brother deems it wise to test him. But Sirius's expression remains neutral. "The icing on the cake was learning he's not on Grandmother's list of potential suitors, at least to our knowledge."
Sirius winces. "Oof, lemme guess... he knows Evan is sitting pretty in the top spot, huh?" The youngest Black nods. "Ouchies. That'll do a number on a bloke's self-esteem."
"Exactly. The kiss didn’t mean anything, brother, I swear it.”
"Of course it didn’t mean anything, silly!" the older boy laughs. "But jealousy is… well, you know all about that, Reg, don't you?"
Gonna rub that in my face until the day I die, isn't he? Regulus scoffs in his head.
“Okay, but since we’ve established that it did not mean anything, why would Potter be jealous?” Pursing his lips, Sirius squints at him for several long moments, undoubtedly trying to decide if Regulus is pulling his leg. To demonstrate his sincerity, he places a hand over his heart. “Genuinely, I do not understand.”
Mimicking him with a hand over his heart, Sirius hisses, “Genuinely, you not understanding worries me! Worries me a lot, in fact!!” When Regulus attempts to retort, a hand is smacked over his mouth. “Bite me, and I will NOT help you sort this mess out, do I make myself clear?" With great reluctance, the Slytherin makes an affirmative noise. "James is jealous of you snogging other blokes, because he wants to be the only bloke snogging you, seeing as how he fancies you… although, you should NOT be snogging ANYONE, bird or bloke, because you are too young, Regulus! Does that help clarify things?”
Not really, Regulus grumbles internally. Sure, it would be nice if Potter did fancy me, but what are the chances?!
“You still look confused,” his brother growls, removing his hand, “why do you still look confused?!”
“I understand what you’re saying.” Best to clear that up before his brother starts shouting. “And I understand you believe you’re speaking the truth. But did Potter actually tell you that, or are you assuming? Because during that row you incited while we were in detention, he VEHEMENTLY denied fancying me!"
Sirius throws his hands in the air. “Of course he did, he thought I was going to pound his face in for just looking at you with less-than-pure intentions! Godric only knows what he thought I'd do if I found out he fancied you! Despite what you and your fellow snake-folk like to believe, us lions do possess self-preservation instincts.”
“I remain highly skeptical about that.”
“We just generally ignore them.”
“... and that I can believe.”
“Now, since you and I are working on improving our communication,” when was that decided, and why wasn't I told? “I must inform you that I took the initiative and told James flat out that you are MUCH too young for a boyfriend right now."
Speechless, Regulus gapes at his brother. But then he notices the corners of Sirius's lips pulling up, ooh, he almost got me there.
"Ha ha, you're so funny." You're tacky, and I hate you. "Good one."
"I am funny, thank you for noticing! However, I am not joking right now."
Regulus shakes his head. "You did NOT tell Potter that I'm too young for... you didn't. I refuse to believe it, why would you ever bring that up?!"
"I told James flat out that you're too young for a boyfriend, yes. And I brought it up become it's a relevant regulation."
"You're pranking me."
"I am not."
"Please say you're pranking me."
"Not in the mood to lie, sorry." Sirius extends his pinky. When Regulus doesn't move, his brother grabs his hand and completes the sacred vow. "I solemnly swear, I am not pranking you."
... oh my god, why must I suffer this way?!
"Do you think Mother will let us transfer to Durmstrang mid-semester?”
Sirius huffs a laugh. "No. Also, ew, that constant cold weather would do unspeakable horrors to my skin."
"You are doing unspeakable horrors to my sanity, right now!"
"Oopsie. Anywho, moving on... I haven't said this next part to him, though I can if you want me to, but I’m not opposed to you courting each other for a year or ten, and then progressing onto dating.”
A part of Regulus is convinced that Sirius has no idea what a proper courtship entails, but who knows? It's equally as likely that he does know, and just doesn’t give a fuck - he’ll craft his own rules, rules he’s going to force his younger brother to abide by, rules Regulus will follow, in a bid to make his own woeful existence marginally more peaceful. And that’s that.
Doesn't mean Regulus won't argue, though. Again, it's the principle of the matter.
“Plenty of people in my year are in relationships!”
“YOU. ARE. TOO. YOUNG. REGULUS!” Each word is enunciated with a clap of Sirius’s hands, right in the younger boy's face.
"Since when is this your decision to make, brother?"
"Would you like to take the issue up with Father, brother?"
"... no, thank you."
"That's what I thought."
Rolling his eyes, the youngest Black grumbles, “If you and Lupin had gotten your shite together last year, then you wouldn’t be saying I'm too young.”
Naturally, his logical argument goes ignored.
“I will neither confirm nor deny what James has said about you, just like I won’t tell him what you have said about him either.” So, that’s a definite ‘no’ to Potter telling Sirius outright that he fancies Regulus. Good to know. “You’re gonna have to trust me on this, Reggie.”
“HA!" Whoops, that was way louder than intended. "Respectfully, I don’t trust you at all -” Gray eyes so similar to his own flash with hurt, so Regulus hastily clarifies, "When it comes to matters like this.”
“Back to being a liar, am I?” his brother asks icily. “And for the record, saying ‘respectfully’ before saying something disrespectful, doesn’t make it any less disrespectful!”
Oh, Regulus hates confrontation, that will never change, but his brother’s sour attitude won’t cow him into backing down, not about this.
In a high-pitched, childlike voice, the youngest Black trills, “No, Reggie, you aren’t saying your ‘r’s wrong, it’s the rest of us who are doing it incorrectly… see, just like I did right now!”
Sirius scrunches his nose up. “Okay, but the way you pronounced your name was so stinkin’ cute… I’m not helping my case, am I?”
“Nope,” Regulus says, popping the ‘p’. “Ooh, then there was, ‘No one is staring at you, Regulus, nor did they see you trip down the stairs. It’s all in your head’.”
“It was -“
“Oh, really?”
“Er…" his brother falters. "Well, I’m pretty sure. But it was so long ago, terribly difficult to remember -“
“Funny, because not five minutes after you swore my horrendous social gaffe went unnoticed, Madam Longbottom approached me to say, and I quote, ‘That brother of yours assured my friends and I you were alright, but I had to check for myself. That tumble looked awfully painful, and you’re already so fragile as it is!’”
“I told those old bats you were fine, but did they listen -”
On a roll now, Regulus doesn’t let his brother finish his complaint.
“No one thinks you’re strange, Regulus. Lots of people collect rocks, they’re just too proud to admit it. You don’t make people uncomfortable with how quiet you are, everyone loves silence! You’re not short, you’ve just had the misfortune of befriending tall people. It’s perfectly normal for an older sibling to read bedtime stories to the younger one... of course there’s no age-limit on when that's supposed to stop! You could try out for any position on the Quidditch team and be a guaranteed shoo-in." The last remark was said after Sirius made every shot while Regulus was guarding the goalposts they rigged together in the gardens of Black Manor. “Sofia is massively overreacting, she has no right to be upset with you for spending her entire birthday party in the barn with her mum… their kneazle just had kittens, what did she expect you to do?!”
“Alright, alright, you’ve made your point!”
Sucking in a huge breath, the Slytherin slowly lets it out, until he suddenly remembers... “Oh shite! Speaking of Sofia, did you know she, supposedly, had a huge crush on me last year?”
“You think she only had a crush on you last year?!” Sirius asks incredulously. “Sweet Merlin, Reggie, you really are something, huh?"
It takes every ounce of self-control he possesses to smother down the overwhelming urge to kick his brother. "Pandora said that last year, Sofia frequently got in trouble because," he grimaces, "she kept doodling our initials in the margins of her homework. So, the logical conclusion to be drawn from that statement is -"
"Did you do anything swoon-worthy between the end of your second year and the start of the next?" his brother rudely interjects. "Something that would have led her to conclude that her feelings were, or could eventually be, reciprocated?"
Wracking his brain, Regulus tries to recall if he saw Sofia that summer... it's not like they hang out or anything, but they occasionally run into each other at societal functions or birthday gatherings for their Slytherin peers. If he remembers correctly, that was the summer Willow, ironically, threw her 'Picnic at the Seaside' celebration in Côte d'Azur. In the weeks prior, Regulus fretted over whether he should attend or not, but since Willow had always been kind to him, he didn't want to risk offending her by declining the invitation. Of course, he stayed far, far away from the water, preferring to lounge under the cabana with a book and Mrs. Greengrass for company (he's 95.34% certain Willow told her mother about his boggart, because she politely told a few people to piss off when they pestered him about wasting a perfectly good beach day). Various partygoers would randomly join them whenever they needed a break from the water. Regulus vaguely remembers talking to Sofia here and there, including that time when he said... oh dear.
"I did not -"
"Liar."
I need to conduct a survey of other younger siblings to determine how accurate their older brothers/sisters are at detecting their lies. Because this seems ridiculous! Gah, but who's to say? Maybe it's the norm...
"Mrs. Greengrass asked Sofia if she had gotten a haircut since she last saw her. Sofia said yes, though she wasn't sure if she liked the new style, and I," naively, "said I thought it looked nice."
Oh Merlin, was that why she kept looking over at him? Regulus thought she was peeved he was a part of their conversation (his participation was due entirely to proximity, not because he wanted to interrupt his intellectual conversation with Mrs. Greengrass about the history of magical artistry to discuss his classmate's hair).
Smirking, Sirius chirps, "That'll do it! And for your information, that girl has been infatuated with you since we were children. From the very moment you helped her back to her feet, after Rowle pushed her down during their fight over that toy broom.”
WHAT?!
He's half-convinced this is some convoluted scheme between his friends and his brother to mess with him. Regulus and Sofia were four-years-old when that happened… in fact, that was the first time they met! If he remembers correctly, their exchange went something like:
Regulus: Are you alright?
Sofia: I think so… is that your brother?
Regulus: Yes, that’s Sirius. Don’t worry, he’ll handle that jerk who pushed you.
Sofia: But Thorfinn is older and bigger! I think he’s the same age as my brother.
Regulus: So? Sirius is smarter than all of them. Brains matter more than size, that’s what Grandmother always says.
Sofia: Okay.
Regulus: You’ll see, he’s the best!
Sofia: I believe you.
Regulus: Good. By the way, you have a twig in your hair.
Sofia: Oh no.
Regulus: Also, there’s dirt on your nose. Here, you can use my handkerchief.
Sofia: Thanks.
To Regulus's understanding, it wasn’t the sort of interaction that left a lasting impression… and if it did leave an impression, it wasn’t the good kind.
“But you got the broom back for her and got Rowle in trouble… if anything, she should have a crush on you!”
Sirius shrugs. “The heart wants what it wants, Reg, you of all people should understand that.” Damn, that’s way too good of a point to refute. “Here’s some perspective for ya. Before that impromptu dorm dinner we had with Cissa and Andie, I was certain that if you didn’t marry your bestie, Pandora, then you’d marry Sofia, simply because there’s no way she’d ever let any other witch snatch you up. Pandora could hold her own, but Sofia would crush anyone else who dared compete against her. And had our parents been the ones in her way? Well, only thing I could say to that is Merlin be with them... fortunately, that won't be a problem though, aye?"
Blimey, Regulus isn’t sure he wants to know how she’s going to react upon learning that he is very, very gay.
But as it usually tends to go whenever Sirius is involved, they’re way off track. “To be clear, I know you’re not lying to be malicious or anything, it’s just another way you look out for me. But I’m old enough now where I can say with absolute certainty, I’d prefer to hear the truth. No more little white lies to spare my feelings, okay?”
“If you insist.“
Too easy, his brain whispers.
"The truth over ANY reason you’ve selected as to why I shouldn’t know something, not just because you want to spare my feelings."
Sirius stares at him for so long, Regulus drops his gaze to the ground, unnerved, why is this such a big deal, I don’t understand the problem? Unless he’s… unless he’s keeping a lot of things from me? But no, he's always told me everything. Maybe not right away, but relatively quickly. Or at least I thought he did? What could he be hiding, though? And why?... does it have to do with Potter?
Ten hours later (at least that’s how it feels), his brother finally responds. “I will keep that in mind and work on it going forward… but for the record, I didn't lie to you at all during this conversation.”
“Alright.”
“Oi, James!”
The Slytherin’s head jerks up. “Oh my god, don’t!”
“Yeah?”
Putting his hand over his brother’s mouth is ineffective, because Sirius, the absolute hypocrite, has the gall to bite him!
“Can you come here for a minute, mate?”
“Stop!” Regulus inspects the damage done to his poor, abused hand. “Vous faites quoi?!”
“Se détendre, Reggie."
“Comment veux-tu que je me détende alors que tu es sur le point de m'embarrasser?”
Sensing a presence behind him, Regulus tenses when a familiar voice asks, “What chya talking about?”
“Nothing -”
“You, actually.”
Guess Siri really does want me to die, huh?... actually, no, I’m gonna kill him, and THEN die, that’s only fair.
“Oh? All good things I hope.”
Slowly, the Slytherin turns around.
Thanks to his brother's tomfoolery, Regulus's heart rate was already racing, but it spikes even higher when his gaze lands on the Gryffindor Chaser. Evidently, Potter is not in agreement about the temperature being pleasant, considering he's shucked off his robe, revealing another too-tight Gryffindor Quidditch t-shirt (a different design this time, he has at least two of these, and I don't have a single Slytherin one?! Dumbledore must be playing favorites again), and form-fitting athletic pants.
Sirius simply says, “Mate.”
Immediately, Potter’s shoulders slump, and he hangs his head... like someone expecting to be scolded. “Sorry.”
“Can you grab your broom?” After giving each brother a confused look, Potter does as he’s asked… except, he can’t pick up his broom either. “Ha! I told you he didn’t do it, Reg.”
Oh, thank the Fates… hmm, still might kill him for making me stress like that, though.
Whether he’ll admit it or not is inconsequential; Sirius Black is a massive swot, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Eagerly beckoning Lupin over, the two quickly become engrossed in their attempts to remove the mysterious barrier surrounding the brooms. Evan and Barty remain on the blanket, heads bent together as they discuss Merlin-knows-what, leaving Regulus ‘alone’ with Potter.
The Gryffindor Chaser smiles that small, somewhat shy grin, the one that makes Regulus's heart swoop in his chest. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Regulus murmurs back, you’re supposed to be mad at him!
"Again."
"Again." They stand there in silence, staring stupidly at each other... until Regulus’s glaring lack of social skills make a reappearance. “Did you know you have chocolate on your face?”
Potter’s tanned cheeks take on a reddish hue. “I did not.” He swipes his thumb over his bottom lip, completely missing the lingering piece of food. “Better?”
“Higher… no, that’s exactly what you did the first time. Ugh, here, let me." Stepping closer, Regulus is suddenly engulfed in the older boy's cologne, blimey, what an intoxicating scent, how is the legal?! I bet this is what he meant when he said being near me makes his brain go all fuzzy.
Lifting his own thumb to his lips, Regulus licks the pad of his finger, smirking to himself when Potter’s eyes darken. A small speck, right above his cupid’s bow... but it's James Potter, so of course it doesn’t go away easily.
“Better?” Potter whispers hoarsely.
Shaking his head, Regulus’s thumb trails down, coming to rest on an unfairly plump bottom lip. Just a little pressure, and then Potter understands what he’s asking for. This time, it’s Potter’s tongue that peeks out to moisten his finger; Regulus barely needs to move his thumb to reach the chocolate, which is quickly wiped away.
As soon as he drops his hand down, their lips are connecting.
The world fades away, until just the two of them remain. He gently cups Potter's cheeks, grateful for the muscular arms looped tightly around his waist. It's quite possibly the only thing keeping his knees from collapsing under him. Regulus thinks his heart might burst straight out of his chest; this feels more intense than any of their previous snogs, even though it probably looks relatively tame. They haven’t properly kissed since Thursday, when they were hiding behind that tapestry after Regulus’s Charms class, it’s been less than two full days, but it feels like it’s been months. This isn’t the sort of thing he should become accustomed to, but he has, and that scares the shite out of him.
When they finally break apart, their gazes drift to the side.
“When’s his birthday?” Despite their rocky start, Remus Lupin is making a solid case for himself to be named as Regulus's favorite Gryffindor... or at least in the top five. Taking full advantage of the arm casually draped over his boyfriend's shoulders, whenever Sirius tries to turn his head to look their way, Lupin’s hand rises up to grip his cheek, preventing him from moving; he then either plants a kiss on the opposite cheek, the one closest to him, or whispers something in Sirius's ear. Both methods are successful in distracting the Black heir from spying on his brother + best mate, albeit briefly. “Gonna buy him a fantastic gift.”
“March, like mine.”
“Ugh, too far... an excellent Christmas present then.”
Both Sirius and Regulus approach gift-giving with the sort of determination and zeal uncouth simpletons have previously deemed 'excessive'. And since they're much too prideful to outsource any aspect of that process (unless there's no other choice), Regulus will need to secure himself an invite to the Gryffindor fifth-year boys' dorm for some much-needed reconnaissance. Actually, several invites would be ideal, to ensure the accuracy of his data. Some rare books would suit Lupin well, but should Regulus accidentally purchase a tome the Gryffindor already owned, well... the shame would be the end of him, wouldn't it?
"And I'm going to buy you an excellent Christmas present... or rather, presents." Potter smiles ruefully. "Assuming I can wait that long before showering you in gifts, that is."
Regulus purses his lips. "Have you forgotten I have plenty of money?"
"That's so not the point, Reg."
"Then, what is so the point, Potter?"
"The point, you silly snake," he pecks the Slytherin on the nose, "is to brighten your day," he presses a kiss to Regulus's cheek, "show you that you're cherished," then his other cheek, "bring you happiness -"
"Wow." The youngest Black can't hold back his undignified snort. "Good luck with that last one."
Placing both hands on his hips, Potter huffs, "Do you really want to ruin a perfect afternoon with a pointless argument?"
Mouth dropping open, Regulus hisses, "You dare -"
"I dare," Potter says with a laugh. Pulling the younger boy closer, he ghosts his lips across Regulus's jawline, teasingly avoiding the spot where the Slytherin wants them to go; yet it’s the murmured, “I've missed you,” that sends shivers down his spine.
It also confuses him.
“But we’ve hardly been apart?”
“But we’ve hardly been together either.” Regulus’s face must do something weird, because Potter’s eyes widen, and he rushes to add, “No no no, not like that! I didn’t mean,” his voice drops to barely above a whisper, “snogging, I meant… I dunno, alone time where we can chat, just the two of us… like this! The snogging is a bonus, but this is what I missed.”
A sudden gust of wind blows their hair every which way.
Regulus succumbs to temptation and combs his fingers through the older boy’s mussed hair, oh jeez, it’s so soft, I now understand why he touches it all the time, smoothing it back into place. “You really aren’t as cool as everyone thinks, huh? It’s no wonder you get on so well with my brother!”
“Shh, don’t tell anyone, but we’re pulling off the biggest con Hogwarts has ever seen." Potter chivalrously returns the favor, which is greatly appreciated, because Regulus is painfully aware how atrocious his hair looks if he doesn’t pin it back before heading outside. “Remus is actually the cool one among us.”
“Now, that I believe.”
“What about you?”
Regulus shrugs. “No one would ever believe I’m cool -"
"I would."
"... so there’s no point in pretending. With my friends, Pandora is the cool one among us, though Barty’s a close second.” Something flashes in Potter’s eyes, reminding Regulus of his brother’s words. “Um, as previously established, I am not cool, suave, or any such tripe, so please forgive my bluntness… but you know there’s nothing going on between Barty and I, right? If, perchance, you saw us snogging, it was to shut him up about being left out from Evan and I’s…” oh, Merlin, here he goes, “practice sessions. Past practice sessions."
Potter is uncharacteristically quiet for an agonizing amount of time, a time in which Regulus stares longingly at his broom, mentally pleading for her to save him. They could fly off into the Forbidden Forest, never to return, wouldn't that be wonderful?
Eventually, the Gryffindor asks, “So, you aren’t romantically interested in, uh... either of them?”
“Nope, and never have been.” Regulus almost says they’re like brothers to him, but thanks to the trauma Andromeda inflicted on him and Sirius the other day, he holds his tongue. “And since I am very gay, something Pandora evidently realized years ago, there’s nothing on that front either.”
“Well, shucks. You must think I’m the biggest berk in the world, huh?”
Ugh, ugh, ugh!... fair is fair, innit?
“No.” He lets out a surprised giggle at Potter’s McGonagall-esque ‘don’t lie to me’ expression. But he also can't resist... “'Paisley' might think that, though."
Dropping his head onto Regulus's shoulder, the Gryffindor groans, "Bloody hell, I'm so sorry."
"I'm teasing! She seemed to find it hilarious." Not another little white lie, either! "But do you recall Thursday, how you accused me of avoiding you?” Potter nods. “So... I was avoiding you -"
"Knew it!"
"Stop interrupting, it's rude."
"Sorry."
Liar, Regulus whispers fondly in his head.
"But I wasn’t avoiding you because of the Evan thing.” Which is such a terrible thing to admit, sigh. “It was because I saw you and Sirius snogging... I uhh, jumped to conclusions.”
Potter’s expression flashes through several emotions, too quick for Regulus to catalog. It soon settles on disgust. “I love Siri, don’t get me wrong. And snogging him in third year led to the conclusion that I’m not straight, as previously believed, but bisexual.” Oh, what a relief to know he’s already gone through his sexuality crisis! “But I can assure you, he's just my best mate… and besides, I really, really don’t fancy the idea of Remus gutting me in my sleep.”
The Slytherin nods, because yeah, he can see that being a legitimate concern. “Truthfully, when I was under the impression that Lupin had a non-Sirius boyfriend, the mystery bloke assuredly would have suffered a similar... let's call it dire... fate.” Like poisoning, for example - less gore that way, and so much easier to dispose clean up.
… will Potter ever respond in a predictable manner?!
“You’re upset with me, aren’t you?”
If I’m upset with you, it’s because every single shirt in your wardrobe is a size too small! How is a bloke supposed to think when there are THAT many muscles on display?! I am but a mere mortal, James Potter… have mercy, would ya?
Since Regulus would rather die than admit to such weakness, he instead asks, “Should I be?”
Evidently, Potter has a better memory than him.
“Yes.” Entwining their fingers together, the Gryffindor guides him back to the blanket. Evan and Barty abruptly stop talking when Potter situates himself in front of them, a nervous Regulus beside him. “Hi, sorry to interrupt, but I would like to apologize… to the both of you.”
Before any of them can react to such an unexpected statement, a triumphant, “ah-ha!” steals their attention. Pumping his fist in the air, Sirius plants a loud smooth on his boyfriend’s forehead and then skips over to where the rest are congregated.
“Friendly reminder folks," Sirius flings himself down next to Regulus, "I am a genius."
“And so very humble," Lupin says, joining them on the blanket with much more grace than his obnoxious boyfriend.
“Always," the Black heir preens. "But I come bearing glad tidings, my most treasured underlings -"
"Pardon?" Evan hisses. "Your what now?"
Biting back his laughter, Barty lightly chides, "Let the man speak, Ev."
"Oh wise, Bartholomew, I doth thank thee. Thy backing is most esteemed." Battling the urge to rub his temples, Regulus lets out another long, piercing scream - internally - while ensuring his facial expression remains perfectly blank. Should Sirius Orion Black realize he's gotten under someone's skin?... congratulations, you've massively fucked up! It will always, always escalate his antics. "The mystery that has set my sweet brother's veins alight with burning rage is solved!"
"And?" Potter prods when his friend trails off.
"‘Tis elven magic that has prevented us from acquiring our brooms and taking to the skies.” Thanks to Sirius's earlier remark about Regulus upchucking once as a child, after flying too soon following a meal, the youngest Black isn’t surprised by this news. He glares at his brother, regardless. “Oi, don’t blame me! Those meddling little buggers enjoy interfering in your life, not mine.”
“Like you didn’t ask them to do it while you were down in the kitchens?” A flicker in his brother's eyes tells Regulus everything he needs to know. “You are bloody unbelievable!”
“I won’t dispute that.” Sirius snootily flicks his hair over his shoulder, hitting Regulus in the face… wait, how did his hair grow out so much already?! He makes a mental note to pay more attention to his brother’s hair care routine. “Now, what were you lot discussing before I blessed you with my presence?”
Potter clears his throat. “I was apologizing to Rosier and Crouch for being an arsehole.”
“I see,” Sirius hums, sharing a look with Lupin. “Good on you, mate. Just need to get it out in the next," he casts a Tempus Charm, "twenty-one and a half minutes, because that’s when the time-release spell ends on those brooms -"
"Assuming the calculations are correct," Lupin interjects.
"S'cuse you? Of course they are correct, I ran them!"
"Once."
The three Slytherins watch the bickering couple with rapt attention; Potter, however, looks far from amused.
"I'm not sure what you got up to during our separation, Remus, but one of the many intellectual pursuits I pursued," Regulus and Evan flinch at the dreadful choice of words, but Sirius doesn't falter, "was thoroughly reading both of Reggie's Arithmancy textbooks, for this year and last. Meaning, I know what I'm doing."
Blimey, finishing just the fourth year Arithmancy textbook in less than two weeks would be a major accomplishment. And he read last year's too?! How the fuck is that possible? Not only are those books enormous, but the tiny print makes Regulus's eyes bleed (er, figuratively).
Refusing to back down, Lupin counters with, "Everyone is capable of making mistakes, darling. Even you."
Fighting words, those are fighting words!
When red splotches start rapidly spreading across Sirius's pale skin, Potter finally intervenes. "I guess we'll find out soon, huh? But I'm confused, mate... why do I need to be done with my apology before then?"
For nearly a minute, Sirius doesn't respond, too busy staring Lupin down.
"I've got a galleon on it being more than twenty -"
The Black heir furiously shakes his head. "Nope, nope, nope, I will not be lead astray by your wicked ways. As previously mentioned, Reg and I are banned from gambling, so you can keep your galleon, Mister Moony! The only reward I need is everyone acknowledging that I was right... and for you to admit you were wrong."
"Clarification - the loser admits they were wrong," Lupin sticks his hand out, "and that the other was right."
They shake on it. "Deal." Then, with zero warning whatsoever, Sirius's hands rise up to squish Regulus’s cheeks. “You should care when the spell ends, Jamie, because it means the baby’s attention will be otherwise occupied for the foreseeable future.”
“Ger’off me!” It takes winding his fingers into Sirius’s hair, a silent threat, for Regulus to finally be released. “Yeah, that’s what I thought!”
“I thought I made it clear that I will not tolerate such appalling behavior -”
“Ahem…" Barty gives the brothers a pointed look. "If you two are quite finished, I would like to hear what Potter has to say."
“Erm… yes, right.” Regulus squeezes Potter’s hand, offering him a small, encouraging smile. “Rosier, what I said to you on Wednesday was severely out of line, untrue, and wholly uncalled for. And my snide behavior towards you today, Crouch, was also unwarranted. I’m sorry for being a berk to you lot, neither of you deserved that attitude from me. I’ll uh… I promise to do better. Because you’re important to Reg, and he’s important to me, so umm… I hope in time, you both can forgive me.”
After Potter is through with his spiel, Barty’s eyebrows are nearly to his hairline, though Evan has no outward reaction.
“Well,” the taller Slytherin says after a beat of silence. “That takes guts to say, so I suppose we can give you another chance… right, Evan?”
Cheeks puffing out like he’s about to shout, Evan suddenly deflates. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
“On that note, I would also like to apologize,” Lupin softly remarks; Regulus is startled to realize the Gryffindor is looking at him. “To both Regulus and Sirius. What I said during detention -”
“What’d he say, Reg?!” Evan interrupts, peering suspiciously between the two.
Uhhh... great question.
When he remembers, Regulus can’t help but laugh, I forgot all about that… I feel like I’ve lived ten lifetimes since that moment. “Something mildly rude for the sole purpose of acquiring my brother’s attention, which he definitely got. Although entirely unnecessary, I appreciate your apology, Lupin.”
“You can call me Remus,” the Gryffindor offers shyly. “If you’d like. It seems only fair?"
“Alright -”
Potter eagerly taps his knee, but Regulus’s attention is focused on Evan, who has extended his leg to nudge Sirius’s foot… or at least, he's trying to nudge Sirius’s foot, but since he isn’t tall enough to reach without moving closer, Barty does it for him.
“Thanks, mate. I guess this means I should apologize for calling you a slag, Siri… umm, sincerely this time. You were clearly going through a lot, so it was unfair of me to pass judgment over you. And for that, I'm sorry.”
Tactless as ever, Sirius rolls his eyes. “Pumpkin… or should I call you Pumpkin Shortcake?… ooh, Strawberry Shortcake, that has a better ring to it, huh?” He giggles to himself, ignoring Evan’s indignant hiss. “I hate to break it to you, but the only Hogwarts girl I’ve snogged is Eleanor, which hello, talk about poor life choices!” He shudders. “The battiest of birds, I’m telling you.”
“Aw, I’ll protect you,” Lupin... wow that’s gonna take some getting used to... Remus hums, kissing Sirius’s temple.
In broad daylight, right in front of their friends, Potter presses a kiss to Regulus’s forehead. “And I’ll protect you.”
Normally, I’d say I can protect myself, but if Potter wants to deal with that madwoman, more power to him.
Sirius wrinkles his nose, but blessedly, forgoes commenting on the gesture. "Appreciate the thought, Rem, but once she learns about us, you are the one who will need protection."
"I concur," Regulus says, which causes his brother to frown. "Sorry, but she seems the vindictive type."
"I'm not worried," Remus shrugs.
“But -”
“But nothing.” Jeez, Sirius really enjoys ruffling Evan’s feathers, doesn’t he? Poor Ev. “Snogged a few charming ladies in France, but I’ve known basically my entire life that I like blokes and only blokes."
"Okay, but -"
"My version of experimenting," Sirius determinedly continues, "was along the lines of, ‘To avoid disownment, can I handle pretending to be straight, or should I start preparing for the inevitable?’ Funny how that worked out!”
Mouth opening and closing, a (frankly quite adorable) sound of confusion emits from Evan’s lips. “But… your… your reputation?!”
“An important lesson for you lads!” the Black heir declares pompously. “The Hogwarts grapevine is 91.582% codswallop, and you will do well to remember that.” He playfully bumps his shoulder into Lupin’s. “And if you need help manipulating it to work in your favor, you know where to find me.”
Barty blinks owlishly. “Wait… if you weren’t being a… what were you doing in so many girls’ rooms?” Before Sirius can answer, the Slytherin cries, “Oh, oh shite, you were renovating them, weren’t you? Like you did ours? Salazar, this whole time, I thought you were so cool, all suave and good with the ladies. Truth be told, you were a bit of a role model for me, an inspiration of sorts -"
"Ew, really?" Regulus mumbles. "Explains a lot..."
Evan gives him a look that screams, "It does, doesn't it?"
"Jeez, the older snakes were right. Growing up really is so disappointing -”
“Pardon!” Sirius interrupts, nostrils flaring. “Yeah, I might not like women, but they sure as shite like me! You should see how many Valentine’s Day cards and secret admirer gifts I get each year! I'll save you from having to guess - it's loads!"
Potter sighs. “‘Tis true, lads. And they’ve only gotten bolder as we’ve aged. For perspective, on the morning of February 14th last year, our dorm was FILLED with owls, which yes, was just as messy and unsanitary as you can imagine. So, we've been researching ways to redirect them to an abandoned classroom to deliver all their gifts there. A preemptive strike, if you will."
With utmost sincerity, the Gryffindor-Black grouses, "Sometimes, it's really difficult being this beautiful."
“It's not just on Valentine’s Day either,” Remus acknowledges, before Sirius can add something snide like, 'Not that any of you would know'. “How many times has someone tried to sneak you a love potion?”
“Think we’re in double digits -”
Gauche, and absolutely SO unethical… where is the common decency these days?!
“Tragic, you have my condolences. Now, what about my sisters?!” Evan shrieks. “Even if you snogged them while we were in France, they're still Hogwarts girls!”
Bringing his hand up to cover his mouth, Potter gasps. “You snogged his sisters?!”
“BOTH OF THEM!?!” Regulus screeches.
Merlin, no wonder why Evan ‘jokingly’ (though not really jokingly), calls Sirius a slag!
“Whoaaaa, there's been a HUGE misunderstanding here!" Sirius asserts, holding his hands up placatingly. "My lovely lips have NEVER gone anywhere near your sisters, EVER, even while playing Mummy and Daddy… er, house... when we were kids. Respectfully, they scare the bejesus out of me.”
“For the record,” Regulus parrots mockingly, “saying ‘respectfully’ before saying something disrespectful, doesn’t make it any less disrespectful!”
“Let’s be real, Emma and Ella would take that as a compliment.” While Regulus agrees with that claim, he will not allow his brother to win another argument!
“Disrespectfully, I do not agree -”
“They used to fight over you!” Evan shouts, interrupting their bickering. “They’d argue about which one of them you were going to marry, and then they’d make me pick who would be the better wife… oh my fucking,” he lets out a growl reminiscent of Sirius himself, “those… those witches!”
Head turned to the side under the guise of watching a flock of birds - and so Evan can’t see the amusement he's unable to contain - Barty consolingly pats their friend’s leg. “I'm proud you finally figured out they were fucking with you.”
“YOU KNEW AND DIDN’T TELL ME?!”
Immediately recognizing he’s stumbled into dangerous territory, Barty quickly clarifies, “I had some teeny tiny suspicions, but I knew nothing. Because who’s to say? Maybe they really were smitten with our best mate’s older brother, he’s certainly a catch.” Without looking away from Evan, he waves a hand in Sirius’s general direction. “I mean look at him! Totally fit.”
“Can’t argue there,” Sirius says to his boyfriend. “Right, Moonbeam?”
“Debatable,” Regulus scoffs under his breath.
"What was that, little star?!"
The youngest Black smiles angelically. "I didn't say anything."
There’s another fierce gust of wind, which convinces Regulus the cosmos have developed a grudge against him; either that, or the nature spirits enjoy pranking him. He doesn’t bother wasting time trying to fix the mess his hair has become.
Tugging on his brother’s sleeve, Regulus widens his eyes in a way some might label ‘cute’. “Help?”
What a terrible day to not have a hair tie or a headband, it’s only going to get worse once I’m on my broom… ugh, another day I must battle the temptation to shave all my hair off. Only the thought of how ugly he’d look stays his wand.
“You bully me, then you ask for my help?! Regulus Arcturus, you have some nerve!”
Jutting his bottom lip out, he adds a soft, “Please, Siri?” for good measure.
Sirius’s resolve is clearly wavering, but before he can fully break, Potter makes his own offer. “I’ll help. Not sure what you need, but I can -”
“You can mind your own business,” Sirius grumbles. “You will absolutely not touch Regulus’s hair, that’s my job.”
The younger Slytherin shrugs. “It’s alright, I don’t mind. Although, I don’t have any hairpins -”
“Piece of cake to transfigure -”
“I said, NO!” Was Sirius’s first remark intended to be lighthearted? Perhaps. This last one, though? No question about it - he is deadly serious. “Come here, I’ll get you sorted in a jiffy.” Taken aback by the abrupt attitude shift, the younger Black hesitates a second too long for his brother’s liking. “Little star, come here!” As if they de-aged ten years, Sirius slips his hands underneath Regulus's armpits and drags him closer. “Godric, you weigh a lot more than you used to.”
“Wow, who would have guessed, huh?”
Remus strikes up a conversation with Potter… James… no, he didn’t ask, so he’s going to be ‘Potter’ until he does, while Sirius works on pinning Regulus’s hair back. As a nonverbal apology for his previous moodiness, his brother massages his scalp and temples; between Regulus's full stomach, his hair being played with, and the hum of non-contentious conversation (finally!) around him, his eyes flutter closed. The next strong breeze doesn’t blow his hair into his face, thank fucking Merlin for small miracles, but it does come with a significant, albeit brief, drop in temperature. Regulus shamelessly wiggles backwards, just a bit, to soak up some of his brother’s warmth, peculiar how Sirius and Potter are both walking furnaces, though Potter is definitely toastier. Is this common among Gryffindors? I feel like Gideon and Fabian are similar. Ugh, I need more data before I can draw a conclusion...
Regulus is close to drifting off when his brother murmurs, “Cela fait longtemps. J'ai beaucoup à te dire.” There’s no response to his remark, and yet… “Pourquoi tu me dis de me taire?!”
Cracking an eye open, Regulus surreptitiously scans their surroundings; occasionally, Sirius’s gaze will dart to the right, yet no one is there. Remus and Potter’s conversation now includes Evan and Barty, so Sirius definitely isn’t talking to them. Either they think he’s muttering to himself, like he usually does, or they can't hear him. But Regulus speaks French as fluently as his brother, he knows what Sirius is saying, hears every word. And it's not the sort of chatter a person would mutter only to themselves, not even Sirius.
With as young as he is, could the so-called 'Black Family' madness be affecting him already? Regulus frets internally. That usually doesn't start for decades! Bloody hell, what should I do? Tell someone?
Why bother? No one would do anything about it, his inner voice argues. He's always been temperamental, an oddball, prone to theatrics and hysterics... 'Conversing with himself, how is that different than usual?' they'd say.
And fuck, that's a good point, isn't it?
But it’s only going to get worse as we age - hallucinations, both auditory and visual, voices in his head, extreme paranoia, violent, uncontrollable mood swings - maybe if it’s caught early enough, the Mind Healers can do something about it?
Well on his way to working himself into a full-blown panic attack, Regulus asks, “A qui parles-tu?... ow!”
“Sorry, sorry!” Sheepishly, Sirius gently rubs his now smarting scalp. “Didn’t mean to pull your hair like that, I thought you were asleep. And I'm not talking to anyone, Reggie, just myself.”
“Qu’est-ce qu'il y a?”
“Je vais bien, petite étoile.” He smiles warmly, like everything is peachy keen, but the youngest Black knows the truth; something is the matter, something is wrong, and Regulus needs to get it sorted out before it becomes a thing. Standing up, Sirius addresses their group. “I’m going to use the loo, then grab the Quidditch crate from Hooch’s office. Thoughts on a small pickup game?”
Potter eagerly leaps to his feet. “You know I’m always down for one. I’ll go with you -”
“Oi, mate, said with love, but I can use the loo on my own.”
At his best mate’s dismissal, the brightness literally slips off Potter’s face. Wholly unrelated, Regulus’s heart twinges in a rather worrying way.
“Since when?” Remus mutters under his breath.
Leaning down, Sirius pretends to bite his boyfriend's cheek. "Heard that."
"You know I'm right," the taller Gryffindor snickers.
"Still a meanie." Regardless, he pecks his boyfriend on both cheeks. "See you in a bit."
“Do you think he’s mad at me?” Potter asks glumly.
Still yapping away to 'himself’, the further Sirius gets from their group, the more animated he becomes, talking with his hands like someone is walking beside him.
"No -"
“Actually, he obviously is, but what precisely do you think I should apologize for?”
“He’s not mad at you. However…” Biting his lip, Regulus struggles to find the words for what he wants to ask. “Do you… does he always talk to himself?”
“Oh for sure, all the time.”
Yeah, that was poorly worded.
“Like, full on conversations? Or just a stream of consciousness?”
The two Gryffindors exchange a long look.
“We don’t understand French,” Remus admits. “So, we can’t really say for certain.”
Potter perks up. “On a similar note -”
“James.”
“No, no, he brought it up, it’s a fair question!”
“It’s not -”
“It is -”
“Just spit it out!” Regulus snaps, feeling another headache coming on.
They both adopt similar chagrined expressions, one he’s definitely seen on his brother.
“So, Petey has this theory… growing up, did Sirius have an imaginary friend? Perhaps one that still pops up every now and again?”
“You don’t have to answer that,” Remus rushes to say. “It’s none of our business either way.”
Behind the Gryffindors, Evan and Barty share a conspiring grin, and then it’s Evan who says, “He did, actually. The grown-ups were very worried about it, you see. Thought it was another sign he’d struggle to make friends or fit in at Hogwarts.”
“I knew it, I knew it!” Potter’s downtrodden mood disappears in the blink of an eye. "I TOLD you Peter was right, Remus, ha, take that!"
My brother is in the throes of a mental breakdown, and everyone is joking about it?... Fuck, and here I am, randomly hearing a voice in my head that tells me to do some miscellaneous thing, which usually results in a near-death experience! Can I even be upset? Maybe we BOTH should be committed.
Remus must pick up on his conflicting emotions. “There’s nothing wrong with having an imaginary friend. It’s perfectly normal and nothing to be ashamed about.”
Hugging Regulus from behind, Potter sways them from side-to-side. “Tell us more? What was his… or her… name? What are they like? Does he have tea parties with them?”
Well, I guess if his friends aren’t overly concerned about it, then maybe it’s alright.
“Thanatos,” the youngest Black answers without hesitation.
“Strange name,” Potter mutters, and on principle, Regulus smacks the hands resting on his stomach, tsk tsk, how dare he make fun of my brother's imaginary imaginary friend. “I mean… cool name, totally, so awesome.”
This time, it’s Regulus who senses Remus’s unease. “Problem?”
“It’s just… kind of… weird, ya know? To name your imaginary friend after the personification of Death." He shoots a worried glance at Sirius's retreating back, but the Black heir is oblivious to his boyfriend's 'blasphemy'. "No judgment, though!”
Something cold trickles through Regulus’s veins. “I didn’t… he didn’t… I just said the first name that came to mind, must have heard it randomly or something. Sirius didn’t actually have an imaginary friend, we were joking. And how could you believe our family was concerned my brother wouldn't make friends at Hogwarts? It's Sirius -”
“And Death doesn’t have a name,” Potter’s arms tighten around Regulus, “other than ‘Death’.”
Remus shakes his head. “To help make sense of the world they lived in, the Muggles of Ancient Greece had a whole plethora of names for gods, goddesses, and other mythological beings. And then the Romans made their own… maybe you just read it somewhere.”
“His owl is named Persephone,” Potter informs his friend. “And of course, Sirius has that feathered demon, Loki.”
“I’ve never read any Muggle books,” Regulus says firmly, struggling to keep from peeking at his friends’ expressions. “None, not a single one, my brother named my owl -”
Barty scoffs so loudly, Regulus flinches from the unexpected noise. “Oh sweet, sweet Regulus...”
“We know all about your little book exchange with Pandora,” Evan adds nonchalantly, like he's not shaking the foundations of Regulus's world. “For like, going on four years now.”
What ever happened to good 'ole fashioned SECRETS ?! Regulus shrieks in his head. How does everyone know everything about me? I am discreet, I do not share everything. In fact, I hardly share anything, SO. HOW. DOES. EVERYONE. KNOW. ALL. THESE. THINGS?!… AND WHAT THE FUCK ELSE DO THEY KNOW?!
At least they haven't discovered it was actually Uncle Alphard who introduced him to Muggle literature...
“We’d be more surprised if you didn’t read Muggle books,” Barty continues with a shrug. “And honestly, Reg, you think we'd believe you’d allow Sirius to name your pet? You might be insulting our intelligence there!”
“My brother wanted to name his owl Monsieur Feathersworth,” Regulus sniffs. “He’s lucky I was there to intervene!”
"Aw wait, that's actually kinda cute." Craning his neck to look behind him, Regulus sends Potter a withering glare. "On second thought, what a horrible name, utterly dreadful, doesn't fit him at all. You really spared that demon... er, I mean precious, loving creature... from a terrible life of mockery and constant belittling." A mischievous smile slowly spreads across the Gryffindor's face. "I think it's safe to say that, without you, Loki wouldn't be taken serious-ly by humans and owls alike."
Potter laughs delightedly at the four sets of jeers his comment receives.
Notes:
A hint for the next chapter... the working title is, "Interlude: The Fifth Marauder" ;)
Translations (I haven't taken French since middle school, so this is straight from Google/Google Translate):
Vous faites quoi? - What are you doing?
Se détendre, Reggie. - Relax, Reggie.
Comment veux-tu que je me détende alors que tu es sur le point de m'embarrasser? - How do you expect me to relax when you're about to embarrass me?Cela fait longtemps. J'ai beaucoup à te dire. - It's been a long time. I have a lot to tell you.
Pourquoi tu me dis de me taire? - Why are you telling me to shut up?
A qui parles-tu? - Who are you talking to?
Qu’est-ce qu'il y a? - What's the matter?
Je vais bien, petite étoile. - I'm fine, little star.
Chapter 33: The Fifth Marauder
Notes:
Returning to Sirius's perspective, so brace yourself for some chaos :)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Sweet baby Godric, has the locker room always been this far from the center of the pitch ?! Sirius groans in his head. Such a shame I don’t have my broom right about now. (He’s kidding himself… James, Remus, and Regulus would NEVER let him live down such laziness).
Sirius enviously side-eyes the floating figure next to him. Life would be so much nicer if he had the same ability, no broom or physical exertion required! Death isn’t even using his wings to hover, he just is. As if sensing Sirius’s thoughts, Death smiles serenely at him, smug bastard.
Sadly, there’s much more pressing matters to complain about… and he will NOT allow himself to fall into another panic about whether or not Death can read minds (Muggle style, not Legilimency).
Reverting back to English, the Gryffindor-Black grumbles, “Well, if my brother didn’t think I was batty before, he certainly does now!” Sirius is fairly confident, somewhere in the 50/50 range, Remus can’t hear him from this distance. But if he can, it’s not like Sirius is saying anything too weird or incriminating… for now. “Thanks a lot, mate -”
“Don’t you dare blame me, mate!”
“Hopefully, James distracts Reg enough that he just, er… forgets about it.” Sirius heaves a weighty sigh. “Otherwise, s’gonna be a bitch of a time trying to convince worry-wart Reg that I am not losing my marbles.” He grins innocently. “If you want to lend a hand -”
“Pardon, but you seem to have forgotten that I TOLD you to be quiet!” Despite his snark, Death is kind enough to use his wing to shade Sirius from the vicious sunlight threatening to burn him to a crisp, I can’t wait to tell Marlene that chivalry IS dead, hehe. “Yet did you listen? No, of course not!” Under his breath, Death has the audacity to scoff, “Human men, always thinking they’re so smart. Ugh, Auntie was right all along.”
“Lumping me in with every other bloke in the world is mean!” the Gryffindor whines, hands waving wildly as he talks. “I’m nothing like them! I’m special, beautiful, and smart.”
“Aw, that’s cute.” Ohh, Sirius does not appreciate Death’s mocking laughter, not one bit. “Is that what your Mummy tells you?”
Far from it, arsehole!
Not looking to test the limits of someone who can probably smite him with a mere thought, see, Reggie, I do have self-preservation instincts, Sirius counters with a triumphant, “Actually, Mother tells me the exact opposite!”
Bunking in Slytherin should have been boring and uneventful. Sirius grew up surrounded by snakes, he knows precisely how they think and act… or so he thought. Turns out, most of them have more oomph to them than expected, meaning Sirius was wholly unprepared for what the House of Snobs had in store for him. Over the last two weeks, he’s endured one mind fuck after another, after another, after another, after another… and THEN some more on top of it!
The more shocking revelations include, in no particular order:
1: Regulus doesn’t actually hate him, yay!
2: Narcissa and Andromeda are apparently way cooler than Sirius was ever led to believe (though Andie refusing to tell him every single detail about her snog with Frank Longbottom should be considered cruel and unusual punishment)
3: Slytherin-Ice-Princess-Narcissa is secretly BFF’s with Gryffindor-Muggleborn-Lily-Evans
4: Queen Andromeda is (gasp!) planning to marry her Muggleborn Hufflepuff boyfriend after graduation (which Sirius has no problem with, so long as they request his invaluable assistance in planning the festivities… he’s just shocked about the bloke's blood status, since his cousin never spoke out against the values they were raised to believe in)
5: Uncle Alphard and Uncle Gio have essentially been ‘married’ for more than two decades, except without all the paperwork (Narcissa says she’s unsure why they haven’t made it official in the eyes of the law, so Sirius has decided he's going to solve that particular mystery over the Christmas holidays - he cannot wait to brag to her when he figures it out)
6: Severus Snape is actually… not that bad
7: Remus fancies Sirius back?!
8: Regulus and James fancy each other (whenever this fact crosses the forefront of Sirius’s mind, or anything mildly related, his brain malfunctions, because what the fuck?!)
9: In spite of all evidence pointing to the contrary, his little brother’s innate, Gryffindor-esque defiant/devious side has grown drastically since he started attending Hogwarts - brawling with a bloke twice his size after said bloke emotionally hurt his big brother (his little star is too precious for this cold, brutal world), brazenly swiping Sirius’s things out of his room at Grimmauld Place and bringing them to Hogwarts, without his sibling's knowledge (okay, Reggie might be precious, but he’s certainly not an angel), his passionate inter-house unity/anti establishment speech in the middle of the Great Hall, how he’s snogged more blokes than Sirius has (which is fine because soon, Sirius will get to snog Remus whenever he wants… Regulus’s lips better NOT have gone anywhere near his Moony!), that whole entanglement thing he’s got going on with James, how he had the gall to to pull Sirius’s hair because he thought James was like, cheating on him or something, reading comic books despite them being banned
10: If Father is to be believed, everyone in their family knows Regulus and Sirius are gay (something Sirius did not know about his brother until recently, so he's got QUESTIONS about that). And supposedly, the Black elders have compiled a list of potential wizard-suitors for Reg, which means Sirius might not have to run away in order to marry the bloke of his dreams (he isn't holding his breath though, because trust issues)
11: Regulus failed Divination?! Sirius is positive that Father somehow convinced Professor Shaede to flunk him out of her class, it’s the only explanation… though why he let Reggie enroll to begin with is another mystery altogether. There’s no way Orion Black isn't aware of his son’s ‘gift’, not when it was Grandfather Arcturus who laid out the truth for Sirius. And surely, Father told Mother, either because she had her own suspicions and confronted him, or to offer an 'acceptable' explanation for Regulus’s lifelong high-strung behavior. He also doesn’t discount the notion that Mother uses Kreacher to spy on people, including Reggie (which is utterly diabolical, Sirius is a tad jealous he can’t do the same)
12: Father saying he’s proud of him, after Sirius essentially bullied the older man into agreeing to retaliate against the Travers family? And then he reaffirmed his firstborn’s claim as heir apparent, because Sirius stuck up for his brother and cousins’ ‘sins’? It's batty, absolutely batty, but whatever floats Father’s boat
But the most earth-shattering of all revelations is the newest one -
13 : Walburga Black thinks highly of him, Sirius Orion Black, third of his namesake, to the extent that he, Sirius Orion Black, third of his namesake, is her favorite son. By a ‘landslide’
Half of him is convinced that Father, Kreacher, his brother, and his cousins are in cahoots with each other, like this is nothing but a bizarre ruse. A Slytherin prank, if you will. But for as long as he can remember, Regulus has staunchly claimed Mother’s favorite son is not her secondborn, as Sirius wholeheartedly believed to be the case… because, hello, why wouldn’t Regulus be the favorite?! He’s as smart as Sirius, if not smarter, way better behaved, and he actually gives a damn (a lot of damns!) about their family legacy. But no, according to his baby brother, Mother’s ‘prized’ son is her firstborn, Sirius himself. And while he doesn’t trust Father or Kreacher all that much - they wouldn’t think twice about lying to his beautiful face if it served their agenda - and he’s iffy about his cousins, Sirius trusts Regulus wouldn’t mess with him, not about something like this. Besides, thanks to their bond, he knows Regulus believes he’s telling the truth. Hell, even before last night, Sirius knew Regulus believed he was being truthful too, but now, the knowledge is starting to sink in...
It begs the question - what is Sirius going to do with this information? Does he actually need to do anything at all? Ignorance really is bliss!
It could benefit you in the future, his Slytherin side whispers, the side Sirius squashes down with a savage vengeance anytime it rears its ugly head. There may come a time when you need her support -
Merlin, now that’s a frightening thought!
“Am I to presume your mother tells others something different?” Death probes when he unintentionally trails off.
“Apparently, Mother goes around telling people that not only am I magnificent, which duh, so true,” a violent gust of wind whips his hair into his face, and Sirius irritably brushes it out of his eyes, “but she also says I’m the handsomest in the family and one of the most attractive Blacks to ever live.” Definitely true to the former, and probably true for the latter.
“Your mother knows what every Black has looked like, huh? All of them, down to the very first?”
“Well, sort of -”
“Let me guess,” Death interrupts. “Because of the Portrait Hall in that gaudy mausoleum you call a house?”
Sirius bristles at the jab. “I don’t exactly get to choose where I live, ya know!” He makes a face. “Once Father croaks, I’m moving to Black Manor, I don’t care what Mother has to say about it.”
“I think your grandmother might have some qualms -”
“She does not, actually.”
With her son, Orion, Grandmother Melania couldn’t wait to marry him off and get rid of him. She was more patient with her daughter, Lucretia, but not by much. Her two grandbabies, though? A different story altogether! A few years ago, she explicitly stated that there will always be a wing in the Manor reserved for her grandsons, should they ever ‘desire’ it (said with a warm smile, directed at Sirius and Regulus), or ‘require’ it (said with a warning glare, directed at their parents).
“You do agree, though, that a majority of those paintings are almost exact replicas of each other, yes? With only a few minor differences, predominantly in the backgrounds?”
For all of two seconds, Sirius wonders how Death could know so much about their house… until he recalls how often Regulus - just Regulus - was on his doorstep. Add in generations of other Blacks, and yeah… he’s spent some quality time in Grimmauld Place for sure. Poor bloke.
“That’s the incest, pal, we don’t talk about it.” Struck with the epiphany to end all epiphanies, Sirius lights up. “Blimey, but you’ve seen every other Black, you gotta tell me -”
“I think it’s fair to assume that nearly all of them were NOT at their best when I saw them.”
Ooof, yeahhh…
Damnit.
“Going back to the whole ‘Regulus thinking I’m batty’ thing, in my defense, you haven’t been around lately to hear all the crazy stuff that’s happened!”
“I’m so sorry you had to serve detention by your lonesome,” Death says in a tone oozing with sarcasm. “I’m sure it was dreadful and not at all character-building.”
Let it be known - nobody EVER appreciates Sirius's contributions to society. Even though Edwin Paxton hounded Slytherin’s (much) younger Seeker at every turn for weeks last year, Sirius was charitable enough to rearrange his ghastly-looking face, free of charge! And what did he get in return for his altruism? Three weeks in detention, 93.33% of which were spent cleaning areas of the castle unfrequented by anyone (living or dead) in the last hundred years. He would have had a great time regardless, but Death took it upon himself to keep Sirius company for a good portion of it.
Feeling his brother’s gaze burning into his back, Sirius lengthens his stride, anxious to get inside the locker room. “Actually, I haven’t earned any yet.” Which is true. He didn’t earn these two weeks of detentions. Regulus did. “But it’s been a wild start to the semester, so, yeah… I got overexcited and started talking to thin air. Sue me.”
Only a few meters away from the locker room, Death overtakes him and walks straight through the door, almost like he knows Sirius is stupid enough to attempt to hold it open for him, am I this predictable to everyone? Or can he actually read minds?!
Once inside, Death peers around curiously. “Apologies. It’s uh… things have been a bit weird lately.”
“Tell me about it,” Sirius says with total sincerity.
Death won’t take him up on the offer though, he never does… which is beyond irritating, because Sirius has questions, so many questions, but the bloke refuses to budge. Supposedly, it goes against the ‘natural order’ for (living) humans to know about his world, ‘I can tell you everything you want to know, but then I’d have to arrange your death immediately after.’ Blegh, what a lame joke! Someone who’s THAT old should be able to do much better than that.
It’s well within the realm of possibility that Death is being truthful - rulers/leaders just love banning their subjects/common folk from acquiring knowledge. But Sirius would bet his beauty and his family’s sizable fortune that Death also refuses to answer because he loves coming off as mysterious, mystifying, and beguiling. No question about it, he takes immeasurable joy in his human pal’s frustration.
But Sirius is clever, stubborn, and pays attention (sometimes… er, he tries, okay?)
With over half a year’s worth of random social visits from Death under his belt, Sirius has managed to collect a few nuggets of information:
- Death is a certified momma’s boy
- He has no father (Sirius gets the vibe this was meant literally, though how that’s possible, he has no idea)
- Has a very close bond with his two aunts
- Can be in multiple places at once
- Has control over who can see him
- Can change his appearance at will (but prefers to stick to his current form with ‘slight’ changes, depending on the situation/his mood)
Anddddd that’s about it.
Five of those six ‘facts’ were mentioned in passing during their various conversations, easy to miss - they were not responses to Sirius’s many, many questions. The ‘changing appearance at will’ tidbit is the only information Death has given him outright… which came after Sirius had a wee bit of a breakdown last semester.
See, the first few times Sirius saw Death, he looked exactly the same - obnoxiously tall, like Hagrid, the Groundskeeper at Hogwarts, who’s rumored to have giant’s blood in his veins. Clad in velvet robes that reeked of luxury, Death’s face had a sort of timelessness that meant he could believably be anywhere from 25-years-old to 500-years-old. It was strange, of course, but Sirius could deal. After all, Death looked way less frightening (and insanely more attractive) in ‘real life’ than he did in their storybooks.
But during the times last semester when Regulus wasn’t half-dead, and Death popped by to… well, even now, Sirius isn’t completely sure why he showed up at Hogwarts. To lecture him? Impart his sage wisdom about all things dead and dying? If his reasoning was along those lines, Death might have gotten a lot more than he bargained for… a one-sided discussion, where Sirius was only supposed to listen? Never gonna happen! A certified ‘talker’, Sirius would let Death start the conversation however he wanted, but inevitably by the end, he’d have shared stuff about his own life too (possibly teetering on ‘oversharing’). And although the same courtesy was never shown to him, Sirius was kind enough to answer Death’s questions, no matter how simple.
Even now, he can’t shake the feeling that Death was… is… lonely.
Anywho, what really freaked Sirius out, to the point where he legitimately began to worry he was losing his mind, was how Death’s appearance progressively changed from visit to visit. Only three ‘traits’ remained constant - his captivating purple irises, an eye color uncommon within the magical community, the black wings he kept close to his body, and his intimidating, godlike beauty.
Around the third or fourth ‘social call’ (as Sirius dubbed them in his head), his immortal buddy showed up looking human… ish? The biggest shift, the one he noticed immediately, was Death’s ‘normal-sized’ stature. Of fucking course, he was still taller than Sirius, probably around Father’s height. But he no longer towered above everyone else, which was kind of a relief; Sirius hates craning his neck to look people in the eye. For the most part, Death’s hair remained the same color (except that one time he showed up as a redhead, and Sirius refused to look at him until he changed it back), but he experimented with different lengths and styles. Sometimes he wore it up, other times down. Every style looked perfect on him, which pushed Sirius further to the brink of insanity - it wasn't fair! Sirius is beautiful, yes, but not even he could flawlessly pull off some of those styles.
The other physical changes were so subtle, Sirius had difficulty making heads or tails of them. There's only one way to explain it - Death stopped looking ‘timeless’. If Sirius had to guess how old he was, he’d say in the ‘recently graduated from Hogwarts’ age bracket. That’s it. There was no feasible way Death could pass for any age above 23-years-old.
His physical appearance wasn't the only thing to change, though.
There was the way he spoke. Truth be told, it took Sirius a few visits to pick up on it, but when he did, oh boy, did it induce a horrible internal conflict - Am I imagining it? Did he always sound like this? Why would the way he TALKS change?... why is he changing at all ? Death progressively began speaking more informally, like they were same-aged mates. Even his sodding accent changed! Nowadays, he doesn’t sound like an otherworldly posh wanker, he sounds like a this-worldly posh wanker. And yes, those are two very different things, Sirius is an expert.
There was also the way he dressed. Gone were the shapeless, posh velvet robes (in Sirius’s mind, they equate to his ‘business’ clothes, how he appears when he’s ‘working’... never a good time when he shows up in those gaudy robes).
The first time Death appeared in different attire, it was memorable, to say the least. He wore a to-die-for maroon robe, complete with a plunging neckline and NO shirt underneath. A visit or two later, he paired a fitted navy tunic with a thick golden belt, which showed off his brawny arms and highlighted his sculpted torso nicely. Merlin, there was also that white, one-shoulder toga, which exposed so much skin… and muscle (Sirius, uh, might have run into a wall while trying to do a double take, but not to fear! He played it off as Death startling him). Whenever he’s not working, Death is NOT an not an outfit repeater. Occasionally, Sirius would comment on his fashion choices (always favorably, because wow, that bloke can dress nicely if he put his mind to it), but he didn’t bother asking for the reasoning behind Death’s constantly evolving looks. A poor choice, as it turned out!
Towards the end of last semester, Sirius found himself on the stressed side of the emotional spectrum, due to a volatile combination of factors; their rapidly approaching final exams (his pride demanded he ace them, but his insecurities insisted he’d lose all semblance of popularity if people realized how extensively he cared about his marks), his brother’s fluctuating health (only a handful of weeks had passed since Reg’s first concussion), and the knowledge that he’d soon be cooped up in Grimmauld Place for the next few months, with only the brother who hated him, their barmy house elf, and his uptight parents for company.
The night before Sirius’s first test, he was running on six hours of sleep total, over a three-day-period, when out of the blue, Death appeared on the edge of his bed (him randomly showing up didn’t faze Sirius; since the Marauders were exceptionally tight knit, Sirius was rarely ever by himself, meaning if he did end up alone for a period of time greater than twenty minutes, there was a 50/50 chance Death would show up for a chat). Dressed in a dark green silk robe, he smiled hesitantly at Sirius in greeting, but there was something about it… maybe it was the underlying shyness of the action, maybe because Death was wearing an outfit Regulus would have chosen for himself if he was feeling ‘daring’... but Sirius felt like he was looking at an older version of his younger brother, the same brother who wanted nothing to do with him, who probably wished Sirius would run away and be done with it, so he'd never have to see him again.
And how did Sirius respond to that?
Well, by doing something mortifying, of course!
Bursting into tears, Sirius begged the bloke… through breaks in his sobbing… to tell him if he was real, or was Sirius imagining him? Did he miss his brother so much, was he so desperate for the sort of companionship that only a sibling could provide, that his brain conjured this entire mythological being to take his place? If Death was real, was his appearance changing because he was becoming more human from all his time above-ground? Was he losing his otherworldly magic? Oh Merlin, was he going to try and possess either Regulus or Sirius at some point?! Is that how he maintained his youthful good looks?
It took awhile for him to run out of worst-case-scenarios to ask about; no one could ever say Sirius Orion Black lacks a creative imagination.
But after he was done, Death stayed quiet for so long, Sirius peeked through his fingers to see if he’d left. They made super awkward eye contact. Then, Death… well, he started laughing, loudly, and for so long, Sirius was genuinely concerned he was somehow going to wake up the other Marauders.
And hey, fun fact! Like humans, Death can shed tears too.
By the time Death calmed down, Sirius’s sobs had subsided to confused hiccups. He then proceeded to assure the distressed human that he had total control over his appearance, and while Death refused to speak on his overall mental state, Sirius wasn’t imagining him, pinky promise. Unfortunately, that’s all Sirius remembers from that visit… the rest is hazy, like it could be a dream, but he’s pretty sure it happened. While demonstrating his abilities, similar to the way a skilled Metamorphmagus might show off, Death proceeded to sneakily move Sirius's books and study guides to his nightstand. Then, before he had the wherewithal to protest, the room’s temperature plummeted, and he was being bundled into bed; fingers were carded through his hair, and a soft, hauntingly-beautiful humming filled his ears, quieting his racing thoughts. The next thing Sirius knew, he was waking up to light streaming in through the window, a worried James hovering over him, concerned by his uncharacteristic lie-in.
Today, Death isn’t wearing anything fancy. It is, however, the first time he’s opted for modern Muggle attire. Except, not like jeans, or anything one might expect a bloke to wear while visiting a person who attends a boarding school. Nope, ‘course not. Instead, Death is in a fitted black tank top with dark gray joggers, his shoulder-length hair pushed back with a thin headband; his overall look gives the impression of someone planning to run around a giant, paved circle (which Remus says Muggles do for exercise, which okie, whatever you say, Moonbeam!)
Since Death always has to do something to throw Sirius off, the fact that he could pass as one of Andie and Fawley’s classmates - aka a seventh year student - shouldn’t be so unnerving.
“I completed the transformation, by the way!” Sirius reveals after confirming the locker room is indeed empty, as it should be. “And I didn’t die in the process, so there!”
Another fun fact - throughout history, hundreds of witches and wizards have died while attempting the Animagus transformation. Sirius knew that already, but when Death found out about his little side project, he was given a firsthand account of how over a dozen of those deaths occurred, gruesome details and all (leading to several consecutive nights of wake-up-screaming nightmares). It was almost enough to deter him, but seeing how beat up the next full moon left Remus, Sirius swore to himself he wouldn’t be another statistic. And he wasn’t, hooray!
“Wanna see?”
Thankfully, curiosity outweighs Death’s need to lecture him (again). “What a silly question… of course I want to see if you actually managed it.”
Instead of asking his companion to turn around, Sirius does an about-face. The transformation isn’t second nature to him yet, in part because he didn’t DARE practice in the Slytherin dorm. Sweet Merlin’s mittens, if Regulus found out he’d attempted such dangerous magic without adult supervision, he’d skin Sirius alive! Plus, Death’s weighty gaze makes him nervous, so it’s easier to concentrate when he can pretend like no one is there.
“Woof!”
On all fours, Padfoot whips around, ooh, tail, must get it… no, no, focus!
He beams proudly at his Number One Hater. Death gapes at him in stunned silence, yeah, you thought I was gonna snuff it, didn’t you, buddy? And now, look how shocked and impressed you are!
“You’re… a… gr-”
“Woof!” Shaking his fur out, Padfoot does a 360 degree turn, showing off his splendor and magnificence.
“... a giant black dog,” Death finishes, bending down to give him plenty of behind-the-ear scritches. Thanks to Sirius’s enhanced senses, he now knows his new(-ish) friend smells fantastic, not at all like the rot and decay he kind of expected. Padfoot doesn’t have the words to describe the individual scents, but Sirius does - pinewood, champagne, cinnamon, and is that… is that dog?! Oh, oh, so Death hasn’t been around all term because he’s too busy hanging out with other dogs? The betrayal! “Since you refused to tell me what your form was, I didn’t know what to expect -” Padfoot lets out a low growl, which is hopefully interpreted as ‘sucks, doesn’t it?’ “But why is a dog so fitting for you?”
“Because I’m loyal, intelligent, and a great friend,” Sirius says, finding it easy to shift back after seeing how impressed Death is by his accomplishment. “No need to confirm, I know I’m right.”
“I see your ego has grown since our first meeting,” Death muses, his voice dripping with judgment. Sirius ignores it. “You do have a lot in common with your ancestors, don’t you? In all my years, I’ve never met a group of people who consistently maintain such a high degree of… self-importance, shall we call it?”
Sirius ignores that too, though it’s difficult. He is not like them, okay?
“But I can actually back it up -“
“Funny, they say the same.”
Swallowing back a rude retort, he reminds himself he’s being baited. For some reason, Death finds it bloody hilarious that Sirius adamantly believes he’s the black sheep of the family.
“Love that for them… so, hey, random question… you have a dog?” Crossing his arms over his chest, Sirius then drops them back down to his side, before shoving his hands into his pockets. Apparently, coming off as ‘combative’ can make people respond defensively, or so Grandmother says.
Gliding around the room with unmasked interest, Death half-shrugs. “It’s not mine, but I do know a gentleman with a lovely dog, even bigger than you.”
Ha, an unlikely story, good sir! James says Sirius’s Animagus form is reminiscent of a small bear. And how often do you find a dog that’s bearlike in size? Uh, never. Sirius is one of a kind.
Realizing he should ensure his lie doesn't come into question, Sirius enters the adjoining loo. Once that’s taken care of, he searches for the emergency stash of hair ties he cleverly Spellotaped under the sink in second year.
“Right, so uhhh…” If that hoity-toity bastard Pierre took my stuff, he’s getting a Howler, I don’t care what Regulus thinks about it. “Is everything alright?”
The brief transformation into his canine form granted Sirius new insights… it’s not an exaggeration to say Death looks like he hasn’t slept in over a century. His tank top is stained with crumbs, almost impossible to see with human eyes, and the scent of champagne is strongest on his right pant leg.
Pausing his inspection of the room to roll his eyes, Death scoffs, “I dare say, your brother’s summer escapades have made you even more paranoid than usual. He seemed quite alright -”
“I meant, is everything alright with you?” Sirius’s hand suddenly touches something plastic. “Ah-ha, gotcha!”
Guess Pierre won’t be getting a Howler after all.
Pity.
“... oh.”
‘Tis always a grand time whenever he gets to knock Mister I’m-So-Cool off kilter.
Unfortunately, Death’s surprise also knocks Sirius off kilter, leading him to meekly add, “Thought you forgot about me.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid, you’re going to freak him out by being clingy!
“Why on earth would you think that?”
Men are so frustrating!
“Because you haven’t been around all semester!” He still look confused, why does he still look confused?! Blimey, Sirius never thought anyone could be as unperceptive (said with lots of love) as Regulus, but guess he was wrong. “We’re… we’re friends, yeah? We talk and stuff, you didn’t come around last semester JUST to save Reggie’s arse. And I get why you wouldn’t wanna chum it up at Grimmauld, but I’ve been back at school for three weeks now. 'Cept you haven’t come to visit at all, even when I found time to be alone.” Wait, fuckkkk, that sounds super pathetic. “I’m not like upset or anything! If you’re busy hanging out with your other friends… and their dogs… I get it.”
“Friends?” Death echoes with a small frown, head cocked to the side.
What Sirius said to Regulus back in the Hospital Wing, about how Death has difficulty making friends because he’s so busy, yada yada yada - he genuinely has NO idea where that spiel came from. The bloke has been alive for eons; if he has relatives, he’s gotta have friends… right?
Death repeats the word again, then awkwardly clears his throat. “I’ve… I’m afraid I can’t say for certain. I don’t think I’ve ever had a friend, unless family members count. Friendship is… it’s a human concept, I believe.” He throws Sirius a metaphorical bone. “I thought my random visits may have burdened you.”
Huh, interesting…
The mirror lets Sirius see Death without awkwardly turning around… he looks so uncertain, so confused, it squeezes something in Sirius’s heart. He's suddenly reminded of Regulus’s pleasant surprise when Snape referred to him as his friend. And that time years ago, when his brother divulged, almost vibrating from the sheer excitement he felt, that Crouch called Evan and Regulus his ‘best mates’ earlier that day.
“At first, I was confused," Sirius responds quietly. "Waiting for the other shoe to drop, ya know?” Death nods in understanding. “But I didn’t realize how much I enjoyed them until they stopped.”
“Oh.”
There’s an uncomfortably long silence.
“Well,” swallowing his own nervousness, Sirius calls upon his Gryffindor bravery, “I’ll be the expert between us, then. And in my professional opinion, we are friends, even if we can’t announce it to the public for fear of being committed to the madhouse at St Mungos.” Speaking of madhouses… “Ooh also, Kreacher vaguely alluded to our friendship in front of Regulus, so that wretched elf probably needs to be beheaded soon. If you want to lend a hand, feel free.”
No matter who wields the wand, little star will not be thrilled, his inner voice annoyingly points out.
Maybe an Unbreakable Vow will be suitable? Gonna need to research if house elves can do those.
“It’s a personal rule of mine to avoid house elves at all costs, so you’re on your own, 'mate'.”
Ugh. Well, at least Sirius has plenty of time to figure out that dilemma.
Something suddenly occurs to him. “Wait, why did you reveal yourself to Kreacher?” A muscle in Death’s jaw twitches, and it tells Sirius everything he needs to know. “Oh my Godric, you can’t hide from house elves, can you?!” There was no hesitation, Kreacher knew instantly who Death was. Like he’d seen him before. “That’s why you avoid them!”
“Apparently, their ability to see through my my powers and disguises is meant to humble me,” Death mutters, sounding petulant. “I can usually pass by undetected with the younger ones, ‘blending in’, so to speak. Most of the older ones leave me be, but some, as you saw, do not.”
"Another reason for you to behead Kreacher!"
"Yeah, no. Also, no one is going to be committing me to any madhouses, so that’s a ‘you’ struggle as well.”
“Aren’t you so cool?” Sirius grumbles, finishing pinning his hair back.
With that taken care of, it’s time to move onto his next mission - fumigating James’s locker, he said he brought his practice kit home with him for the summer, so WHY does it smell like he stuffed his locker with dead people?!
“Always am.”
Familiar with the concept of self-denial, Sirius shifts the conversation back to his original point. “Anywho, you look…” er, best not be too truthful and risk being smited or something, “tired.”
All but collapsing onto the closest bench, Death wearily scrubs a hand over his face. “My mother and aunties threw a soiree last night. First in a long while.”
“How come?” Sirius asks disinterestedly… faked, of course, but maybe it’ll sway his tight-lipped friend to spill some secrets.
“The Fates are the most powerful beings in the universe, you must never forget that.”
“Like you’d ever let me,” the Gryffindor mutters. “Hold that thought, though,” he says, then plugs his nose.
The moment James’s locker door is opened, Death starts hacking up a lung. “By the gods, what is that horrific smell?!” Such a shame Sirius will never be able to tell his friend that even Death is disgusted by his poor hygiene. “It’s like something straight out of the depths of the Underworld!”
Thankfully, nonverbal magic is one of Sirius’s many strong suits. While he’s casting a litany of cleaning/sanitation/purification charms back-to-back, Death lends a hand, so to speak, using his majestic wings to air the room out.
“Bloody hell,” the Gryffindor gasps when he’s finished, regretting his decision to NOT use a Bubble-Head Charm. He didn’t dare unplug his nose until he was certain James’s locker was handled properly. “James owes me big time for that.”
“You’re certain there was nothing dead in there?”
“Shocking, innit? But nope. Now, back to what you were saying… something about the Fates being the most powerful entities in the world, which I’m going to assume means they throw the best parties?”
“An excellent deduction.” For once, Death indulges Sirius’s curiosity. “Although rare, humans sometimes put up a ferocious fight against their destiny, even when it’s something ‘good’ -”
“That’s dumb.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Death smirks like he knows something Sirius does not, but no, he is not going to share, bad manners that is, even Reggie would agree! “So, it’s always a cause for celebration whenever the incomprehensibly stubborn give in.” There’s a brief pause, during which Sirius weighs the pros and cons of asking for examples, but Death continues on before he can decide. “Oh, and congratulations on your new relationship… and repairing things with your brother. Hard to say which one I’m more surprised by.”
Sirius’s thoughts automatically turn to the bloke who’s been a significant focus of his brain power since their first day at Hogwarts.
“Obviously, it’s gotta be…” He trails off, huh, that’s actually a good point… even if Remus was interested in blokes, I never thought I’d convince him I was boyfriend material, and I sure as shite never thought Regulus would forgive me for my atrocious, blasphemous behavior. “Oi, wait til you hear how the two things are interconnected!”
Death makes a sort of ‘get on with it’ motion with his finger. Still, he’s an excellent listener, one who effortlessly keeps Sirius from going off on wild tangents, primarily with the use of thoughtful questions. There is a slight hiccup in the beginning, however; Sirius is forced to tell the story out of order when Death interjects with a furious, ‘He had the audacity to attack you for putting away his things?!’
Most of the time, Sirius likes to stay busy while he's telling a story. But it’s been a tiring few days, so he sprawls out on the bench next to Death, his gaze trained on the ceiling as he talks. It’s a relief to finally get everything off his chest - Death’s perspective on ‘mortal matters’ is so unique. But throughout the conversation, his focus slowly drifts to something else, something completely unrelated. And in spite of what his parents like to claim, it is not Sirius’s fault that his attention span is finicky! In this specific instance, it’s Death’s fault, because he is the one filling Sirius’s peripheral vision with nothing but silky black feathers.
Normally, he can ignore Death’s insanely cool wings. But today is not one of those days, because today, the feathers aren’t perfectly aligned. And imperfection bothers Sirius, bothers him so extensively, it can cause physical discomfort. Literally.
They’re almost to the part in the story where Regulus nearly died (again), when his hands move on their own accord…
“Sorry, sorry!” he shrieks when Death leaps half a meter in the air. Sirius covers his face, wishing the ground would swallow him up, oh Merlin, if Crouch could see me now, my reputation would be destroyed!
“I won’t harm you.” Gently, Death tries to pull his hands away from his face, but Sirius refuses to be moved. “You have nothing to fear from me in that regard. You startled me, that is all.”
Sensing the genuine hurt in his voice, Sirius peeks through his fingers. “Is ‘embarrassment’ only a human thing?”
“Alas, no, it is not.” Looking up at the ceiling, Death shakes a fist in the air. “Those damn Fates think they’re so funny.”
It’s impossible to tell if he’s joking or not.
“Sorry, I should have asked first.”
“You have not upset me, I know how you are when something is not in order.” Death glances away, almost like he’s self-conscious, that’s just silly, what would he have to be insecure about?! “Haven’t had time to preen them by hand. I can use my powers, but it doesn’t feel the same.”
“Let me?” Sirius offers in what is hopefully a casual, lighthearted tone; he’s been itching to get his fingers on those wings for months now. “It would be an honor to be of service, your holiness.”
“If you insist.” Eeeeek, finally! “Scoot back for a moment.” Death unfurls his wings, then fluffs them up, before shaking them out.
This close, Sirius can see how they glimmer with shades of blue and purple, as well as black. “They’re gorgeous,” he whispers, trailing his fingers through the soft feathers, taking care to avoid tugging on them too hard. The repetitive motion calms Sirius's thoughts, and tension visibly seeps from Death’s shoulders the longer he works. Throwing caution to the wind, he breaks the companionable silence to pose a question that crossed his mind last night, while he was (in a totally not-creepy way) watching Regulus sleep. “Hey, hypothetically… what would happen if I killed someone?”
There’s something very… off… about this Travers thing. Sure, according to the elders in their family, Blacks must always remain vigilant, even in their own homes. Every adult can recount at least one instance when a non-relative tried to off them (whether that attack was warranted or not is wholly beside the point). Sirius doesn’t need a Blood Magic bond to know Regulus hasn’t told him everything about this seemingly one-sided beef with Larson Travers. That’s unfortunately just how his little brother operates. In fact, Sirius would go as far to say he’s probably only aware of a fraction of what’s happened between the two. A minuscule fraction.
Maybe that's why there's a nagging voice in the back of Sirius's mind, saying that whatever Father and Uncle Alphard do to the Travers family, it won’t be enough.
“You know I cannot tell you that,” is Death’s immediate retort. And honestly, Sirius should have expected it.
“I’m not asking what happens when we die… honestly, I don’t want to know beforehand, so please don’t ever tell me.” Sirius is perfectly content with waiting until he kicks the Quaffle to find out where dead people go. It’s probably somewhere horrible, but that’s future-Sirius’s problem. “I meant something along the lines of, would you be upset with me if I killed someone?”
Tilting his head back, Death blinks up at him, that’s a view you don’t get every day… aww, he’s got a freckle directly under his eye, I never noticed. “Why would that upset me? It’s not like you could kill anyone I know.”
“I dunno, that’s why I’m asking!” The Gryffindor throws his hands in the air. “Would I be making more work for you? Damning myself to a terrible fate once I eventually die? Shortening my own lifespan? Would you… would you stop hanging around like this, because we’d be even?” He doesn’t wait for Death to ask what he means. “I stole a soul from you, then I gave you a different,” inferior, “soul in return.”
Twisting around to look at him properly, Death’s expression hardens. “I don’t ‘hang around you’, as you say, because you owe me… and if you did owe me something, I certainly would have told you so by now!” He lifts his nose in the air. “That’s just proper manners.”
“Okay, Regulus.” The question spills out of Sirius’s mouth before he can think better of it. “Why do you hang around me then?”
From the moment Death appeared at Regulus’s match against Ravenclaw, Sirius tried not to think too hard about the reasoning behind his visits, tried to convince himself the bloke was just lonely and in need of a friend. Maybe other immortal beings don’t like conversing, so Death was pleased as a pickle to find someone to gab with? It probably had nothing to do with Regulus, or how Sirius technically stole his brother’s soul from him. But Sirius’s brain never listens to him, preferring to do whatever it wants. In this case, it wants to ignore all valid arguments in favor of one; Sirius owes Death, so he pops in from time to time to see if he's any closer to having his debt repaid. There's no other rational explanation for why he's chosen Sirius of all people to hang out with. Now, that's not to say he doesn’t accept Death’s claim that he genuinely wants to help Regulus. Sirius wholeheartedly believes it… who wouldn’t want to help his baby brother?! (aside from those wretched, wretched Fates... he knows a thing or two about having difficult family members, so Sirius doesn't hold it against Death, but blimey, his mum and aunts sure are wicked!).
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No.”
“I would, of course, still provide assistance on your brother’s behalf -”
“I like spending time with you,” the Gryffindor rushes to clarify, “without the threat of death hanging over us!” They both smirk at his honest-to-Merlin supremely lame joke. “I admit, our conversations often feel one-sided. I wish you could share stuff about your life, but I don’t want you to get in trouble either. I’m simply trying to understand why a cool mystical being wants to hang out with little ole’ me.”
Gazing vacantly over Sirius’s shoulder, he takes his dear sweet time answering. “I hang around you because I want to.” Looking chuffed with himself, Death adds a chipper, “We’re friends!”
“Are there elections in your world?” Sirius grumbles, unable to mask his displeasure. “You’d make a superb politician.”
“Thanks.”
“It wasn’t -“
“Back to work with you,” Death orders, ‘accidentally’ smacking Sirius in the face with his wings while turning around. He waits until Sirius starts up again before continuing. “I am not human. I exist for one reason and one reason alone. To guide the souls of the dead to the afterlife. Wanting things is not… it’s a -”
Struggling to realign a feather near the base of Death’s spine, Sirius murmurs, “Human thing?”
“No, not just humans… many in my world are driven solely by their wants. Or at least, that's how it appears. I do not have such luxury. Before this year, I have never done anything other than my duty. I have not wanted to do anything other than my duty. Does that make sense?”
Pointing out that he technically didn't answer the question would probably get Sirius smited, wouldn’t it?
“To summarize… I’m the only living human you’ve hung out with? Ever?”
Death makes a disparaging noise. “Fishing for compliments is so beneath you.”
(Pfft, it most certainly is not… shows how much he knows!)
“You’re right, compliments should be freely given to me.”
“Sounds like a problem for -”
“Freely given to me by everyone.”
Glancing over his shoulder, Death cocks an eyebrow in silent judgment. A brief staredown ensues. By some miracle, Sirius emerges victorious.
“Fine. But you only get one.”
Death is as snide and smart-mouthed as they come, so genuine, straightforward praise from him is rare. For perspective - the reverent manner in which Regulus views his custom Blackstar is similar to how Sirius regards compliments from Death. In his mind, they rank higher than compliments from Professor Perry, their Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor for the year prior.
(Sirius had hoped that the gorgeous/intelligent/funny/witty man wouldn’t fall victim to the rumored jinx on the DADA position - for decades, no teacher was able to hold the post for more than a year, many suffering unpleasant fates that forced them to leave. Professor Perry was the best teacher they ever had, they needed more years with him! He even offered Sirius private dueling lessons, claiming that with a bit more practice, he’d ‘annihilate’ the competition in the Junior Dueling League… oh, Sirius thought he was going to combust from the praise! James didn’t need to say it, it was obvious he was so jealous. Needless to say, when Sirius finally overcame his crippling shyness and found the courage to visit Professor Perry during his office hours… err, months after the initial offer, sigh… he was DEVASTATED to find a squad of Aurors carting his teacher off to Azkaban! Apparently, after receiving an anonymous tip from someone who needed to mind their own sodding business, an investigation was launched; he overheard mention of identity theft, fraud, stalking, and uh, something about child enticement, whatever that was. Talk about rotten luck! At least Death was kind enough to listen to Sirius gush about his favorite professor whenever he visited last semester… his friends had stopped being accommodating by like November, so since fair is fair, Sirius kept what he witnessed to himself. There was never mention of it in the Daily Prophet, so they must have nabbed the wrong guy, idiots that they are.)
“For nearly a millennium, I have despised the Black family down to my very essence. I frequently entertained myself with daydreams of how I’d strike each member down… a pointless exercise, but it brought me comfort nonetheless. You see, even in the afterlife, your kin continue to torment me. They’re always just there, wherever I go, with questions, complaints, comments, thinking I care about their opinion. Life, death, there’s no escaping them!!”
“Sounds about right,” Sirius coos sympathetically, feeling Death tensing up again. “I know the feeling."
“With the birth of each new generation, I pleaded with my mother and aunties to rid your lot of their so-called ‘necromancy talent’. And just as I thought significant process had been made on that front, that finally, they granted my wish, I met you.”
The way that ‘you’ is spoken, it would fill a normal person with the far opposite of warm fuzzies.
Thankfully, Sirius isn’t normal.
“Yeah?”... waitwaitwait. "I don't have such, er, skill, right?"
"You might, but I cannot say for certain until you attempt it." Death's voice becomes menacing. "Don't you DARE attempt it."
"That is something you don't have to worry about. Ever." He shudders. "Respectfully, ewww."
"Good. On that note, your brazen disrespect was incomprehensible to me. Only eight-years-old, and there you were, fearlessly mouthing off -”
“I was terrified.” In response to his admittance, Death rudely makes a noise of disbelief. “For my brother’s sake.”
“Okay, that I’ll accept.” Instinctively, Sirius pokes Death in the side, in the exact spot that makes Regulus jump a meter in the air, ha, I guess cool immortal blokes are ticklish too. “Then, if your cheek wasn’t bad enough,” without warning, he reaches behind him to pinch Sirius’s arm in retaliation, “you had the audacity to throw a knife at me!”
“Ouchies, bad touch!” When the ache fades enough for him to process Death’s words, he feels his cheeks heating, oh Godric, younger-Sirius really did have some nerve, didn’t he? “Err… sorry -”
“You’re not.” Oof, that is correct. “By the end of our first meeting, I was convinced you were going to be the worst of them. Yet in spite of my best efforts, I admit, I was impressed by your courage and gumption.” Either he senses Sirius’s smugness, or he has eyes in the back of his head, because Death quickly adds, “Begrudgingly.”
“Of course, of course.”
“To forget about the shame of being bested by a child, a Black at that, I threw myself into my work. Fast forward to this last January, and I arrive on the eve of your brother’s, erm… impending incident during Quidditch practice, only to discover you two do not get along. Human problems rarely register to me, but this one left me confounded. So, I presented you with a test.”
“Which I aced, like I do all other tests.”
Death huffs a laugh. “Afterwards, it was obvious your love for one another remained strong as ever. But outwardly, you hated each other. I was curious... how could that be? If you haven’t gathered already, I dislike not knowing things. As my Auntie says, mysteries are for mortals.”
Sirius frowns. “Pretty sure I told you during Regulus’s game against Ravenclaw what happened between us. So, bye bye mystery.”
“Well,” Death says, one shoulder rising in a shrug, “turns out, you’re not as bad as I thought.”
Yep yep, he’s definitely spent some time with The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.
“That is truly a Black-style compliment.” Sirius takes a moment to admire his work on Death’s right wing, looks bloody perfect now, I am SUCH a miracle worker. "The elders would be impressed."
Death twirls a finger in the air, like 'yay me'.
“In response to your earlier remark, should you ever kill anyone, accidental or not, you wouldn’t be making more work for me. Obviously, that person met their fate.” Again, Death snickers at his own joke… Reggie would say he's a dork, no doubt about it. “But I must warn you, Sirius. Taking the life of another in cold blood is considered one of the most evil, vilest acts -”
“What if it isn’t in cold blood?” Sirius quickly interjects. “What if it’s to protect an innocent person from further harm? What if that not-innocent-person deserves to die for their heinous behavior?... hypothetically, of course.”
A minute or two passes with no response, so he uses his time wisely to start sorting out the hot mess that is Death’s left wing.
In a tone that is all too reminiscent of Grandmother's, 'I'm-asking-you-this-question-to-decide-how-much-trouble-you're-going-to-be-in', Death asks, “Sirius, someone is hurting you? Or attempting to again?"
Again, what does he mean, again?
"Uhh... no? Who attempted to hurt me before?"
Gentler. "You know you can tell me the truth, I will ensure the matter is handled appropriately."
"I am telling you the truth!"
Pause. "Ah. You think someone is hurting your brother?”
Blood boiling at the thought of the monster who dared to harm his Regulus, Sirius hisses, “I don’t think someone is hurting him, I know they are. Yesterday, that scumbag had the gall to attempt to murder my brother! Regulus conned me into swearing I wouldn’t seek revenge on his behalf, but ooh, I want to, so, sooo badly.” Even though Death can’t see him, he mimes strangling someone. It’s therapeutic.
“This attempt was clearly pitiful,” Death scoffs. “Trust me, I would have known if Regulus was in danger.” He clicks his tongue. “I admit, Sirius, your penchant for dramatics worries me at times -”
“Regulus stopped breathing!” the Black heir asserts, struggling to stay focused on the task he volunteered for. Accidentally yanking too hard on one of Death’s feathers seems like an automatic death sentence. “If it weren’t for Remus -”
Without warning, a hand encases his wrist in a vice-like grip. “Sirius.” Purple eyes blaze with something unintelligible. “You’re being truthful?” Blinking back tears, Sirius nods. “Tell me everything, do not leave anything out.”
Knowing they’re short on time, Sirius gives the rundown as fast as he can, sticking to the facts. It’s difficult, but he does his best to keep his emotions out of it. He mentions the spike of pure terror that shot through him in the middle of his conversation with James, but not how it was so strong, it literally stopped his heart from beating for several seconds. He doesn’t mention how he nearly fainted when he realized Regulus was no longer on the pier with his classmates, nor how useless and worthless he felt when Remus dived into the water, but Sirius couldn’t do a damned thing to help, because hey guess what, he can’t swim either. He mentions how several minutes passed before Remus’s head popped out of the water, Regulus under his arm, unconscious and not breathing. He doesn't mention how it was James who yanked Regulus out of the lake without help, because Sirius was frozen in place, his world crashing down around him. He does mention how Remus saved his brother by using some Muggle life-saving technique, but not how hopeless he felt while watching, his thoughts on an endless cycle of please work, please work, please, please, please, I can't have failed him, after everything, I can't have failed, please work, please.
“Reggie was super adamant that I shouldn’t retaliate. Normally, I would ignore him. Or for his peace of mind, tell him a little white lie like, ‘Uh huh, of course I’ll behave’… and then sort the situation out discreetly. But his intensity gave me the heebie-jeebies.” Sirius sighs in annoyance. “And wholly unrelated, he’s now embarked on a crusade against well-intentioned untruths meant to spare his feelings.”
“Aren’t you tired of lying to him, though?” Death mutters distractedly, staring unseeingly into the distance. Although it’s on the eerie side of things, Sirius doesn’t bat an eye at the mannerism… Regulus has done that off and on for as long as he can remember, so he’s rather used to it.
“It’s for his own good, it’s not like I do it for kicks!” Sirius cries defensively, bad enough to have Reggie on my case, now I gotta deal with this guy? “And yes, I DO feel bad about it, for the record.”
“In certain Muggle cultures, lying is considered a sin, regardless of the intentions.”
“Attempted murder seems worse, in my professional opinion.” He squints at the figure in front of him. “You seem… surprised by all of this?” That can’t be good, can it? His name is Death for Merlin’s sake, why wouldn’t he know about what happened yesterday?!… wait, unless … “Side question, does your mum call you ‘Death’?”
If he’s perturbed by Sirius’s abrupt topic change, he doesn’t let on.
“Thanatos.”
“Bless you.”
“What?”
“In my culture, when someone sneezes -”
“My name is Thanatos, you… you wanker.”
Sirius beams. “Look at you, picking up modern terms!” Because he might secretly have a death wish, he pats Thanatos’s cheek. “So proud, mate. Still gonna call you Death though, if that’s alright? Much cooler sounding.” And wayyy easier to pronounce.
“I am once again reminded why I do not spend time with humans.”
“Aw, don’t be like that.” Sirius inhales sharply, realizing he missed the only not-terrible part of Regulus’s forced dip into the lake. “While you’re pondering over why you didn’t sense Reggie’s latest excursion to your doorstep, lemme tell you about his not-so-secret royal admirer!”
Notes:
Sooo, this chapter started out as a bit of self-indulgence, something short... and then spiraled into a full blown 3-chapter ordeal. But we'll get to see some vulnerable-Sirius, which I wasn't going to touch on until the sequel. Also, cute/supportive Wolfstar, and some spicy drama (serious and silly at the same time) as Sirius/Remus/James/Regulus learn to navigate the 'shift in dynamics' that have occurred since the beginning of the story.
Ooh, and Sirius will be dragging the Fifth Marauder on an adventure of sorts with him.
**To be abundantly clear, Sirius and Death are JUST secret best bros. There is no love triangle, now or ever... with that being said, curious to see if ya'll spotted some of the things that were alluded to in this chapter :))))
Chapter 34: Envy and Impulse
Notes:
A glimpse into how Sirius became the most popular bloke at Hogwarts...
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Cool Otherworldly Beings aside, Sirius would say that on average, he is not the jealous type… er, ‘not the jealous-type’ in the sense that he’s rarely envious of other people. They are envious of him, not the other way around.
Semantics, they're important!
But like every other sodding rule in existence, this one has exceptions too. Or rather, an exception, because Merlin-forbid anything ever be straightforward. And as is usually the case in Sirius’s life, the exception to this particular rule is none other than his little star.
The envy started when they were toddlers... and then never went away.
Granted, Sirius thought it went away, but in recent weeks, he's realized how foolish he was to think such a thing. It's both a boon and a bane how his brain tends to focus on the 'here and now', while forgetting everything else. After ignoring/avoiding each other these last few years, spending so much time with his brother recently unlocked a flood of memories; with those memories, came the emotions associated with them. It sounds silly, but it's true - Sirius suddenly remembered just how BADLY he longs to be like Regulus.
(Yet his brother has this kooky belief that he’s supposed to be more like Sirius, as if Sirius is somehow better?! That is bonkers! Sure, Regulus's remark was made in reference to his talent Potions. But Sirius could feel his brother’s emotions while he was speaking, making it easy to read between the lines… Regulus isn’t striving to be half as good as Sirius is in Potions; he’s striving to be half as good as Sirius is, period. Like there’s some sort of rating system that says overall, Regulus is ‘less than’ his older brother. During that conversation, Sirius had to recruit every ounce of self-control he possessed to NOT grab his brother by the shoulders and shake him until that rot dislodged from his brain. It’s Sirius who should be more like Regulus. Sirius wants to be like Regulus, so badly in fact, he’d even consider doing another Blood Magic ritual if he found one that would transfer some of Regulus’s mental fortitude to himself.)
When they were younger, Sirius’s jealousy stemmed from how Regulus was so bloody ‘normal’. He was the perfect Pureblood son, well-behaved and proper, if a little (a lot) on the quiet side. Sirius tried to be good, he really did. But he could never manage it for long, his emotions too big, too tumultuous to contain (all of his emotions, the good, the bad, and everything in-between). That envy quadrupled once Regulus started at Hogwarts. Like yeah, his little star has questionable social skills, and his terrible sleeping habits leave much to be desired. But Regulus just… he doesn’t fucking care what people think about him. Or more accurately, he doesn’t let the opinions of their peers influence him.
Sirius, though?
Oh, he cannot say the same (not truthfully, at least).
Sirius is aware that everyone at Hogwarts believes he has the same ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude he admires his brother for having. The general consensus of the school is this - Sirius Black is a rebel at heart. He does what he wants, when he wants. He’s cool, popular, and people want to hang around him. If someone doesn’t like him, that’s their problem, not his. He doesn’t care.
And that's exactly what Sirius intended his peers to think, yes.
But that doesn't make it true.
In reality, that’s the kind of person Sirius wishes he was. Deep down, he cares so fucking much what people think of him, is so desperate to be liked, it surpasses ‘pathetic’. His family, his friends, his peers... Sirius might not show it outwardly, but he yearns for their approval, their acceptance. It’s his most shameful secret, one he fully intends to take to the grave.
The only reason Sirius has managed to keep the truth hidden is because he’s really, really good at pretending:
- Pretending like he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him, be it his family, the faculty at Hogwarts, the Pureblood snobs he grew up with, or the other kids at school
- Pretending like he’s a ‘normal’ bloke, one who’s definitely going to get a job after graduation, never cries for any reason whatsoever, and doesn’t enjoy talking constantly, especially not in fake accents that make him giggle on the inside because they sound so ridiculous
- Pretending like he has the same interests as everyone else his age, from Quidditch, to dating girls, to collecting Chocolate Frog cards
- Pretending the things that do interest him are of no consequence to him, be it fashion, theater, heart-wrenching romance novels, skincare, Gobstones, whatever intellectual fixation has caught his fancy
He's a Professional Pretender, if you will. Good enough to make a career out of it (aside from his sexuality, Sirius doesn't bother pretending he's someone different at home... if he has to deal with his bigoted, barking mad relatives, they can deal with his full personality. Fair is fair!)
Self-reflection can be difficult, but Sirius thinks he has a solid idea of where things started going wrong for him.
Early childhood.
For as long as Sirius can remember, family members, his parents’ friends, even total strangers, commented on his appearance. Constantly. Sirius's looks were brought up more than Bella’s, Cissa’s, Andie’s, and Regulus’s combined. ‘He’s going to be a looker alright, Walburga!', 'Have you and your wife discussed marriage opportunities yet, Orion? With a son like that, you'll be able to pick any Pureblood witch you want!’, ‘Oh my, what a handsome young man you are, dear!’, ‘You can’t be a boy, you’re too pretty!’, ‘What do you mean no one has put your picture in magazines yet?!’ The remarks were always favorable, which was nice, but his appearance was brought up so often, it was mind-boggling. To Sirius, it felt like his physical features took precedence over everything else; the fact that he was a Pureblood wizard, a Black, wealthy, the heir to his old-arse family line, smarter than the other kids his age, all of those things were less important than the way he looked.
So, by the age of four, Sirius understood he was considered to be significantly better looking than the average child, regardless of gender. He didn’t necessarily understand why that mattered though, until years later, when his best mate explained it to him. According to James, Sirius's good looks came with ‘privilege’; if he ever seems lost, strangers will stop to help him; shopkeepers offer him treats and free goodies (even if Sirius doesn't ask for anything); people are kinder to him, more polite; they gravitate towards him, whether they realize it or not; his word is taken at face value, even when he’s talking out of his arse.
But there's a caveat, of course there is. Sirius's good looks are NOT the ‘be-all and end-all’ to a perfect life. Because underneath his aesthetically appeasing exterior, Sirius Orion Black III is ‘strange’ and ‘freakish’. Nowadays, his friends tease him for being vain, for putting so much effort into his appearance. And it makes Sirius want to laugh, because, duh! Without his ‘dashing good looks’, what else does he have going for him? Nothing likable, that’s for sure.
Merlin-forbid anything ever happens to his face!
This lesson was taught indirectly, through a mixture of underhanded compliments and overheard comments, some of which include:
Mother - ‘You’re lucky you take after me physically, rather than your father. Society is much more willing to forgive your faults when you’re beautiful. And unless you start conducting yourself like a proper Pureblood wizard, Sirius Orion, you’ll need all the forgiveness you can get!’ (he was too stunned to respond to that, because um hello, all FOUR of them look incredibly alike, is she blind?!)
Aunt Callidora - ‘You better thank your parents for your looks, boy. People would be much less tolerant of your nuttiness if your face didn’t look the way it did.’
Uncle Alphard - ‘He’ll be alright, Walburga, there's no need to fret. Sirius is a good-looking lad. Between his beauty and being a Black, the other kids will want to be friends with him. They’ll overlook his eccentricities… and if not, he’ll have Regulus with him next year.’
Grandmother Melania - ‘He’s handsome and charming, it’ll be years before anyone realizes he’s a bit of an oddball. And by then, they’ll be sucked into his orbit. You worry too much, Arcturus. Sirius will grow out of the worst of it, you’ll see.’
Uncle Gio - ‘I know you’re concerned, Alphard, darling, but you remember what teenagers are like, yes? They flock to the rich and beautiful, and our nephew is both of those things. If it’ll make you feel better, we can practice some dueling techniques with Sirius before he goes off to school, hmm?... actually, considering his mouth is always getting him into trouble, we should do that, regardless.’
Bellatrix - ‘You better pretend like you don’t know me while we’re at school. I don’t want anyone to be reminded that I’m related to such a freak… you are NOT prettier than me, you little worm! If you say that one more time, I swear -’
A conversation overheard during the Christmas holidays of his first year confirmed that Sirius did not make it all up in his head, like he secretly hoped, and that yes, the elder Blacks were extremely concerned he wouldn’t fit in at Hogwarts because he was so ‘strange’, his parents included.
‘Distasteful associations aside, Walburga, at least our fears were unfounded. He isn’t being picked on or -’
‘Pardon, but those fears were entirely your own! My son would NEVER sit there and let someone disrespect him, Orion, do you know him at all?! Sirius might be stranger than all else, but he has plenty of pride and the magical competence to back it up!’ (She then muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously akin to, ‘And Merlin knows he didn’t inherit that from you.’)
‘When did I insinuate he wouldn’t defend himself? You know what children are like, even if he did fight back, it wouldn’t discourage the worst of them from continuing on -‘
‘Did you bail him out of Azkaban and forget to tell me? ’
‘You can lie to yourself if you wish, woman, but I KNOW you were worried the other students would shun him, especially once we heard he wasn’t in Slytherin! And it was a sentiment shared throughout the family… or did you conveniently forget how my mother and your brother suggested homeschooling him MONTHS before he left for Hogwarts?’
‘A disgraceful suggestion! The gall of them, sticking their noses where it doesn’t belong -'
‘Magic can’t solve every predicament, Walburga, you know this. And his physical attributes will only take him so far.’
‘The girls would never allow their cousin to be a pariah, Orion! They may not always get along, but Sirius is still their blood. As always, you vastly underestimate the power of beauty.’
Sirius has never breathed a word about his family’s concern to his friends, nor to anyone else for that matter. Hell, he doesn’t think even Regulus knows (if he does, he’s never mentioned it).
And the Blacks weren’t entirely off base, though not for the reasons they thought…
By the end of his first week at Hogwarts, Sirius endured countless scornful looks from students of all four houses. A few professors too! At the conclusion of his introductory speech, their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor stared right at Sirius as he said, ‘Trust your instincts. Dark Magic users will do anything to fool you, even hide behind the prettiest of faces.’ Everywhere Sirius went, whether he was walking in the corridors, eating in the Great Hall, or sitting in class, people hissed barbed insults at him (a stark contrast from the subtle, veiled jibes typical of the Pureblood elite… though apparently Pureblood etiquette did not hold up at Hogwarts, seeing as how the Slytherins, many of whom he'd grown up with, openly mocked him too!) Sirius was teased for his ‘girly’ hair and the 'pretentious' way he talked. Called a ‘posh prat’ for saying he thought they shouldn’t have to share a lavatory with more than one other person. Since he preferred eating quail over chicken, that made him a snob. Befriending James made him a blood traitor. Being sorted into Gryffindor made him a disgrace to his family name, a stain on the Black legacy. A bloke even shouted at him in the Common Room, calling him an ‘inbred, Dark Wizard purist scum’!
Technically, Sirius was telling the truth when he told Andromeda he doesn’t like being disliked. At the same time, he also drastically undersold it. He hates being disliked, hates when it's obvious that someone can’t stand him. Now, there is of course an exception to that rule too - if that hatred is for an acceptable reason, he can tolerate it. Like how Snape ‘hates’ Sirius because Sirius is James’s best mate, the person Snape actually has beef with. Or ooh, Edwin Paxton... the scum of House Ravenclaw hates Sirius because Sirius kicked his arse for disrespecting Reggie (Paxton probably also hates him for a bunch of other stuff no one can prove Sirius did, hehe). But when people dislike Sirius for no ‘valid’ reason, it reminds him of all his deficiencies… if he isn’t good enough for the Purebloods he grew up with, and the common folk at Hogwarts hate him too, then where does he belong?
Curled up in his uncomfortable four-poster bed, tears streaming down his face and his family’s remarks in the back of his mind, Sirius decided a drastic change was in order. They were only one week into school... it was the perfect opportunity to reinvent himself, was it not? He'd rather snap his wand in half, shave off all his hair, and go live as a Muggle… an American Muggle… than let his family be right about him. Sirius Black was going to be the most popular, well-liked bloke at school, even if it killed him! The kids at Hogwarts hated Sirius for his surname, for things his family was notorious for being/doing. That was easy to overcome, it wasn’t personal, not really (he sure as shite wasn’t going to give anyone the opportunity to dislike him for who he actually was either).
It was a dilemma Sirius’s physical appearance couldn’t solve by itself, but he also had no idea what made someone popular in the eyes’ of the masses. After a horrendously awkward conversation with Andromeda to determine which older students were well-liked by all four houses, he spent a week or two observing them. Once he felt like he had enough to go on, Sirius wrote everything out on a piece of parchment to get his thoughts in order, then set it on fire, dumping the ashes into the lake (sorry Willy).
In a shocking twist, the Pureblood training Sirius spent eleven years scoffing at was actually useful with the proper motivation! Masking his true emotions became less challenging with practice, as did tamping down his ‘excessive energy’. Sirius adopted an aloof persona, and despite his love of chatting, he often stayed quiet during conversations to avoid oversharing, or worse, sharing something that would result in everyone gaping at him in horror/pity/disgust (apparently it was NOT common to behead one’s house elf when they got too old, oops). Even when he wanted to die on the inside, Sirius projected an air of confidence, with a splash of superiority. Realizing that quick-wittedness could turn the tide in someone’s favor during verbal spats, he spent the early morning hours devising comebacks for the insults commonly thrown his way. Feigning disinterest in a whole slew of ‘lame’ things, Sirius also acted as if his borderline-obsessive need for his surroundings to be clean/organized didn't exist (the Marauders have seen glimpses of it, but never to the full extent).
Bored to tears in his classes, Sirius devised a social experiment to see what would happen if he received mediocre grades. His reasoning was simple; if the super smart kids got picked on for their intelligence, being average would be considered cool, yeah? He was judicious with his spare time, though, using it for plotting pranks (which showed everyone that despite his surname, he wasn’t a straight-laced/humorless/snooty Pureblood) and exploring the castle. Sadly, Sirius’s meh grades had no noticeable effect on his popularity. But he also couldn’t stand not being better than everyone else, especially since he knew he was smarter than most of his peers. Needless to say, that experiment didn’t carry on into second year. But hey! Getting perfect scores, while acting like he didn’t give a fuck about his marks, actually made him more popular, who knew?
Also in second year, Sirius joined the Quidditch team!... he hates being on the Quidditch team, okay? He knows that’s sinful, but it’s tedious, the rules are annoying, going to practice multiples a week just to play in a handful of matches all year is stupid, WHY DOES NOBODY SEE HOW STUPID THAT IS?! If it weren’t for the fact that he got to hang out with James, while also hitting things at people, he’d quit! He’d be much happier joining the Gobstones team or Chess Club. Chess is fun! So is photography. He also enjoys learning about the Muggle world and tinkering with their machines. Ooh, and experimenting with potions is always a blast (heh), something Sirius is a dab hand at. But being on the Quidditch team is cool, so he’s on the Quidditch team.
Thanks to Sirius’s determination, his beauty (he’s only gotten better looking as the years went on, thank you very much), and the daftness of his peers (including but not limited to; the Ravenclaw who accused him of trying to get with his girlfriend, thus spawning Sirius’s ‘womanizing’ reputation, and Daniel Hillhawk, the bloke who pissed Sirius off so much, he went on a rampage of abject pettiness, which earned him oodles of respect from his peers since he got away with it all), he succeeded in his quest of becoming popular. The students of Hogwarts either want to; be Sirius; be friends with him; or be with him... or a mix of the three.
After breaking centuries of Black tradition by being sorted into Gryffindor, plus having everything he does at school weighed against the accomplishments of his high-achieving cousins, Sirius assumed there was nothing he could do at Hogwarts that would please his parents; it’s a rare instance in which he was wrong. Surprisingly but also not surprisingly, hearing how popular and ‘well-liked’ Sirius was at school dumbfounded his relatives. They didn’t think he’d convince a single person he was ‘normal enough to befriend, let alone most of Hogwarts' (a summary courtesy of Grandfather Arcturus). And yeah, that’s mildly offensive, but Sirius also relishes in it, at how impressed they are by him.
If there had ever been a doubt in his mind about who’s to blame for his pitiful need to be liked by everyone, it’s longgg gone by now. Some of his relatives’ more memorable comments, said directly to his beautiful face, include;
Aunt Cassi - ‘You sure did beguile your classmates, didn’t you, dearie? I knew you had some cunningness in that thickhead of yours. Rather unsure how you managed it, but life is always easier when people like and admire you… no, no, don’t tell me how you did it, your parents haven’t taught you about plausible deniability yet? Now, should the truth ever come out, and you find yourself in a pickle, you send me an owl, okay, Sirius? I just met this nice young man who’s well on his way to becoming Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.’
Grandmother Irma (Mother’s mother) - ‘They think YOU are cool? Pfft, I don’t believe it… what kind of kids go to that school nowadays, Walburga? Americans? ’
Father - ‘While I do not approve of the companions you’ve chosen to surround yourself with, I appreciate how you’ve elected to reign in your… you-ness… whilst in public, to avoid tarnishing the Black name in its entirety.’
Aunt Druella - ‘Narcissa was telling me all about what the students at Hogwarts say about you… I told your mother she needs to get Calloway to check you for any lingering curses or potions, since that does not sound like the Sirius I know! But Walburga assured me she’s already done it, several times, in fact. Of course, I had Cygnus double-check just to be safe, but you seem to be operating under your own willpower. Now, whether or not your peers are operating under THEIR own willpower remains to be seen.’
Now in his fifth year, Sirius still revels in their shock. Sticking it to the Blacks is a wondrous feeling, but a major teeny tiny problem has risen that he never stopped to consider…
What’s a bloke supposed to do when ALL of his ‘relationships’ with other people, from acquaintances, to best mates, to boyfriends, are built upon a foundation of lies?
"Everything our peers find ‘cool' about you is fake, because in reality, you, Sirius Orion Black, are a giant DORK.”
His brother had been teasing the other day when he said that - the examples he provided were fabricated, Sirius’s hair is naturally glossy and voluminous, okay? But whether he realized it or not, Regulus spoke nothing but the truth (Sirius was too weak to meet his brother's eyes when he said it; if that silver gleam had been there, he'd have self-combusted).
Yes, the Marauders know way more about Sirius than the school does... but not by as much as they think. Even in the relative safety of their room, he still waters down his personality, going out of his way to hide his ‘lame’ interests. He’ll buy new books via owl order (lest anyone in the library see what he’s reading about… currently, he's obsessed with Ancient Magical Civilizations), then charm the cover to something he can pass off as prank research. Having access to Reggie’s bookshelf has been splendid, and as much as Sirius misses his friends, it’s nice not having to hide what he’s reading for fear of James asking ten million questions about how a book on Creatures & Beings of the Deep Ocean relates to future pranks.
His boggart-misadventure illuminated one of his biggest fears; that one day the Marauders, Remus especially, will realize how inexhaustibly annoying Sirius is. He’s literally gone to bed mid-conversation because he thought he irritated one of them, but they were too polite to tell him directly. Sirius isn’t exaggerating when he says he’ll keel over and die if they ever say the sorts of things he heard growing up, like how he’s ‘too much’, ‘Can you shut up for once in your life, Sirius? No one wants to hear you prattle on about the mop you bought, the rocks you found for Regulus, or what you think really killed the dinosaurs!’, ‘Go play in the other room, I can’t handle your limitless energy right now.’, ‘You’re unbearable to deal with for any length of time, I don’t know how your parents survive day after day.’
Truth be told, nobody knows the ‘real’ Sirius Black. In spite of their fallout, Regulus probably knows him the best, having borne the brunt of Sirius’s innate need for attention. Which would mean James is second… maybe? Actually, no. Although they haven’t been friends for long, it’s probably Death who knows Sirius second-best. He’s never pretended to be someone different with his immortal pal. Er, at least he doesn’t think he has?... bloody hell, he isn’t entirely convinced that he, Sirius himself, knows the real him anymore!
While Sirius’s friendships sit precariously upon a throne of lies, his brother’s do not. Regulus has NEVER invented a new version of himself, because he doesn’t give a flying hippogriff if people like him. All he wants is to be left alone. Ironically, Regulus is the more insecure one between the two of them, with the lowest self-confidence (Sirius isn’t gonna think too hard about whether that’s true or not), yet he’s always conducted himself with authenticity. Hogwarts hasn’t changed that. And Sirius is soooo jealous of his brother because of it. Because when people do end up liking Regulus (as they should), their admiration is legitimate. There’s no question about it - James’s romantic feelings for Regulus are real, because they’re for Regulus, exactly as he is, not some fake-version that he created to be liked.
Something he is also insanely jealous about - Regulus is the spitting image of a slightly-younger-Sirius. That’s all well and good in theory, yes. The problem stems from how his brother doesn’t give a rat’s arse about maintaining a beauty routine! Sirius looks a LOT less stunning if he goes without his skincare for a few days. But Regulus does NOTHING, just the bare minimum, and he consistently looks like Sirius after his most intense spa days?! HOW IS THAT FAIR?!
Regulus is so effortlessly beautiful, in fact, he caught the attention of a drop-dead gorgeous Merprince! And yeah, Sirius isn’t naïve, he’s aware that the Merprince doesn’t actually know Regulus. But whatever he observed through the windows in the Slytherin Dungeons (which better not include Reggie’s dorm room) was enough to form a crush on him.
According to Sirius’s readings (merpeople were ten-year-old-Sirius’s hyperfixation), out of the hundreds of mercolonies across the globe, only a handful of them are open to cordial relationships with ‘landwalkers’. For this bloke to gift a magical artefact - not just any magical artefact either, but one that’s exclusively used by merfolk and a well-known symbol of their people - to a human is unheard of! In mersociety, tridents are wielded by the Merchief and his family only; it’s a crime for the merpeasants (a Sirius-invented term) to possess one. But what these tridents actually do is a mystery. Hardly any information exists on them, period, even less on their capabilities. Sirius could feel the thrum of magic within it, but with Regulus’s weird panic over the tattoo drawing, he didn’t have time to properly test it out. Gah, if he could just borrow that ring for a few hours… or days… that’d be really nice! But no matter how hard Sirius pleads/reasons/demands/asks sweetly, Reg won’t part with it. Which is soooo… grrrrr, he doesn’t have words for it! It’s not like Sirius intends to publish his findings or anything, he just wants needs to know everything there is to know about it! When did Regulus start thumbing his nose at people wanting to learn new things? But oh, ohhhh, if he lets James have a look at it though, Sirius will throw the BIGGEST temper tantrum anyone has ever seen. And he will feel absolutely ZERO shame about it, no matter how much destruction he leaves in his wake!!
If you had gone to Slytherin, a voice in his head whispers, that trident could have been yours. You’re pretty enough, prettier, if we're being honest -
A violent sneeze rips Sirius from his internal musings.
“Ouch... bless me,” he grumbles into the crook of his elbow. When a second sneeze doesn’t follow, Sirius slowly opens his eyes, only to find a pair of purple irises staring judgmentally back at him. “What?! Your people don’t sneeze?”
“They don’t sound like a train horn when they do!” Death cries, his wings fluttering agitatedly behind him. “For the last five minutes, you’ve been staring off into space, not reacting at all when I called your name or snapped my fingers in front of your face. Had I known you’d react like that to a feather under your nose, I would have found a less jarring way to pull you out of what I’m going to assume is another existential crisis?”
Maybe at this point, Death knows me better than anyone else, Reg included, Sirius thinks to himself. What a strange notion.
“Sooo… apologies if I’ve asked this before, but -”
A hand is smacked over his mouth. “No, I cannot read minds,” Death shudders, feels like deception, but I dunno… Fortunately, the hand is removed before Sirius can make the dumb decision to sink his teeth into it. “Please don’t give the universe any ideas.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Sirius grumbles, “You’re not going to beat those allegations by finishing my sentences.”
“There’s no ‘mind reading’ necessary. I’m merely beginning to understand how your brain ticks.” He looks so chuffed with himself, Sirius obviously can’t pass on the opportunity to tease him.
The Gryffindor bows his head. “I’m so sorry, you have my condolences.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re exceptionally annoying?” Death huffs.
On the surface, those are mean words, but it doesn’t come across as an insult. So, with a wicked grin, Sirius flips his hair over his shoulder. “Uh huh, they sure do. Loads of people. Loads of times.”
“And like so many others of your blood, you take pride in that trait, yes?”
THAT, on the other hand, appears to be a simple statement on the surface, but it definitely comes across as an insult. Or at least that’s how Sirius is gonna take it.
“I’m annoying in a fun way,” the Black heir rushes to clarify. “The other Blacks are annoying in a bad way. See the difference?”
“Uh huh. Now, let me guess… your latest inner struggle has nothing to do with your brother, does it?” Sirius avoids Death’s triumphant gaze. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“It’s somewhat related,” Sirius mutters guiltily. He should be focused on Regulus right now, not his own unimportant problems.
You’ve always been selfish, his inner voice reminds him, the one that sounds too much like Mother for comfort. No one would be surprised to learn that instead of thinking about your brother, you’re thinking about yourself. Again.
A familiar sassy-scoff follows. At any given moment, Siri is thinking about TEN different things, including those times when it seems like he’s dwelling on something specific.
That’s true, Sirius agrees, bolstered by his brother’s support, even if it's in his own head. I am nothing if not efficient.
This time, Death doesn’t bother pretending like it’s an accident when he smacks Sirius with his wing.
“Although I am certain there is a simple explanation for it all, I need to investigate this uh... dilemma regarding your brother. I don’t have any answers for you right now.” That’s… worrisome. But he's surprised to find he trusts Death to keep his word (outsiders never understand, but being a Black comes with a mountain of trust issues, most of which Sirius is beginning to believe are literally genetic. Nature, not nurture/neglect. Yay them). “In the meantime, you might as well tell me what’s wrong. If I don’t know what’s got you all worked up, how else can I accurately tell you that you’re being overly dramatic again?”
“Fine, but let me finish my work.” Death turns around without protest, but Sirius still takes his time gathering his thoughts. “So, a few months before I left for Hogwarts, I learned that practically all of my family thought I wasn’t going to fit in at school. Because I’m, you know... strange. To put it mildly."
The confession hangs in the open, the air heavy around them. Sirius feels stupid after speaking the words. Death isn’t going to understand why that matters so much. Or worse, he’s going to agree -
The silence is broken by Death’s incredulous snort. “They think YOU are the strange one?... well, to be frank, you’re all strange, but your particular brand of strangeness is far less bizarre than the others of your blood.” Sirius lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “An example… a few centuries ago, one of your less-offensive but still obnoxious ancestors made me wait THIRTY minutes while he said goodbye to his SEVENTEEN kneazles. Whenever I see him now, I cannot peacefully be on my way until I’ve greeted every little beastie he had in his lifetime... all FIFTY-SIX of them... by NAME! It’s madness, Sirius, utter madness!”
Sirius has a sneaking suspicion Death could ignore the bloke and pass by without greeting them if he really wanted to, but he benevolently keeps his mouth shut. He does wonder if that’s the same Black whose paintings they found in the attic, at least Regulus will be happy to know he was reunited with his demon spawn… ah, crap, I can’t tell him that.
“Another century from now, you might have to deal with worse from Regulus. At least if he gets his wish,” Sirius muses, causing his immortal pal to groan in despair, he says I’m the dramatic one?! Pffft, take a look in the mirror, good sir!… unless… “Can you see your reflection in the mirror?”
“Not a vampire.”
That’s not actually an answer, but Sirius tables the topic to be investigated at a later date. “Going back to the living Blacks… I understood where they were coming from. So, after an utterly shite first week at Hogwarts, I decided to reinvent myself.”
“Sirius Black, born Sirius Orion Black the third… I must say, you’re pants at the whole ‘secret identity’ thing.”
Sirius hisses through his teeth. “My cousins would rip you a new one for your terrible humor, you know! You’re lucky I’m nice.” Bella in particular has no patience for ‘childish antics’. And she’s not the suffer in silence type by any means. “You wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.”
(Another secret Sirius will take with him to the grave - he secretly loves Regulus’s favorite band, Dancing in Elysium, otherwise known as DiE. It has nothing to do with reputation or popularity, but rather, sibling stubbornness.)
“By the fates, I’m not so sure I’d want to!” Death blanches.
Once Sirius overcomes his bout of laughter, he gives Death the shortened version of the tale on his ‘reinvention’… erm, the best ‘shortened version’ a natural over-sharer can manage.
“I know I’m probably reaching new levels of overdramatic, but I just… I feel like no one truly knows me. Including myself.” Sirius straightens the last ruffled feather, then taps Death’s shoulder. “All fixed, by the way.”
Shaking out his wings, Death makes a pleased hum. “Thank you, I appreciate your efforts, even if they were also self-serving.”
Busted.
“Guilty… actually, speaking of guilt.” I am so tired of living this lie. But I’m going on my fifth year at Hogwarts, how do I stop ? “Now that Father knows about my sexuality and apparently isn’t disowning me, I want to… I dunno, shed some of this fakeness. I’m sick of pretending all the time, and worrying if others see through my act. But I’m also…”
“Scared?”
Took Sirius a while to realize it, but his womanizing reputation has done WAY more than just prevent questions about his sexuality from arising. Beginning at the rumor mill and spurred on by his looks, before ever speaking to Sirius, people formed preconceived notions about him. Blimey, even the people who did know him started seeing and treating him differently... including his friends! And these preconceived notions have held strong against all counter evidence stating otherwise. Even when glimpses of Sirius's real personality popped out… like the time he stress-cleaned the Gryffindor Common Room from top to bottom, and his housemates wrote it off as a lead up to some prank or preparation for a 'study date'. Or how he spent hours upon hours with various groups of girls during his renovation projects, yet never 'made a move' on any of them. Countless times, Sirius overheard those same girls whisper about how he's only pretending to care about helping them fix up their dorm; in reality, he's just trying to decide which one of them he fancied.
His behavior is always brushed to the side, overlooked. Does Sirius really want to rip away his security blanket? Give his peers the go-ahead to read into every little thing he does? Wouldn’t it be better to wait until he’s out of school to do the things he wants?
Four years of pretending, done.
What’s three more?
Hanging his head, Sirius bitterly scoffs, “Some Gryffindor I am, huh?”
A pale finger gently tilts his chin up. “Perhaps this is my own self-importance talking, but I wouldn’t consider the bloke who, at eight-years-old, threw a knife at Death, to be a coward.” Looking into violet eyes, indicative of Death’s otherworldliness, Sirius so badly wants to believe his wisest friend is right. “Impulsive, foolhardy, and in desperate need of some manners seems more fitting.” With a shit-eating grin, he pats Sirius’s cheek. “Think of it like this… and no, this is not a threat, nor do you need to answer right away… but if you died tomorrow, would you regret the life you’ve lived?”
Sirius’s initial response is, ‘Yeah, probably’, which tells him everything he needs to know.
“Thanks for always listening to me lament about my woes.” Not like he can talk to the Marauders about it, not without admitting they’ve befriended a fraud. “I’m sure it gets tiresome.”
“On the contrary, your life is fascinating to me. Besides, it’s only fair. You listen to me lament about the surreal situations that lead your kind to my doorstep.” Well yeah, talk about fascinating! Who knew drinking too much water could kill you?! “Soooo… how are you planning to fix things?” He smirks at Sirius’s suspicious expression, still not beating the mind reading allegations! “You’re not as mysterious or ‘random’ as you like to think, Sirius Black.”
Another Black-style insult, sheesh. For someone who hates The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black so much, he sure spends a lot of time with them.
“I have an idea.” An impulsive, deranged, someone-should-probably-talk-him-out-of-it, idea. “Might need to fake an illnesses though, so Regulus and my friends don’t come looking for me -”
“Don’t worry about them,” Death says, waving a hand dismissively. “They won’t miss you. They haven’t so far, have they?”
Sirius’s lips drop into a pout, I am actually a bit surprised Reggie hasn’t stormed in yet, it’s got to have been more than ten minutes by now. “Aw, that sounds mean. Is this your way of saying they all hate me?”
“No, Drama King, it is not.” He scrutinizes the human in front of him. “Would you like a hand in your plan?”
“Sure -”
Sirius's stomach heaves when a charred skeletal hand appears in front of his face. It reminds him of the time he snuck down to the dungeons at Black Manor, where the bloke who kidnapped him out of Diagon Alley was being held. A part of him wanted to brag about their reversal of roles, but Sirius also knew it would make him feel better to actually see that the arsehole couldn’t hurt him anymore. Mistake! Regret! So many regrets... all Sirius saw was a blackened arm - extra traumatizing, since the man’s screams were reverberating throughout the dungeons - before Uncle Gio snatched him from behind and carted his horrified-self back upstairs.
“You are NOT funny!!!”
Death mimics his put-out pout. “Lyra appreciates my humor.” Sensing Sirius’s confusion, he adds, “Your kneazle-loving relative.”
Rising to his feet, Sirius rolls his eyes. “Something tells me, he’d have a grand ‘ole time being morbid and maudlin with Reggie.”
“Are you sure this is a wise choice?” Death asks for like the fifth time… in his defense, he still hasn’t received an answer to his question, seeing as how Sirius has been too busy trying to stave off a panic attack to respond. “You do not wish to reconsider?”
Obscured by the shadows casted by the giant House Point hourglasses in the Entrance Hall, Sirius’s frenzied pacing comes to an abrupt stop. “No and no.” Deep breath. “I can do this.” Another deep breath for good measure. “I will do this.”
“For what it’s worth, I’ll be right behind you,” Death says softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Merlin, who would have thought coming out to Father would be less daunting than his peers?!
You didn’t think about it for more than a split second, his inner voice points out. That’s why it was easier.
Ah-ha, that makes sense! He simply needs to shut his brain off; it’s no longer a time for thinking, just action (alas, something easier said than done, even for Sirius).
Regulus would never agree, but impulsivity can really be the best way to go. How else would Sirius ever get anything done?!
“That’s worth a lot, thank you.” One last deep breath for good luck. “Alright, let’s do this.”
Notes:
I love the idea of Regulus idolizing big brother Siri, while Sirius secretly yearns to be more like his little brother... though not for the reason you might initially assume.
Also for anyone wondering, the Fates WERE celebrating Sirius/Remus finally getting together :))))
Thank you all so much for the support, as always. It means a lot <3
And house points to anyone who knows where the line, 'You wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me' comes from!
Chapter 35: What It Means To Be Brave
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Stepping out from the shadows, Sirius walks briskly towards the Great Hall. Shoulders back, chin raised, eyes forward, he carries himself like a 'proper Pureblood wizard', exuding haughtiness from every pore. Confident and composed. Untroubled.
It couldn't be further from the truth.
No one can hear the way Sirius's heart thunders in his chest, so loud, it’s a miracle he hasn't fainted. No one can see the way Death’s hand rests on his back, right between his shoulder blades, gently guiding him forward. No one can tell that despite Sirius's outward apathy, his brain is a mess, this is a terrible idea... no no, it's not that bad actually, and regardless, it needs to be done... but eh, does it really? Why not return to the Quidditch Pitch and continue living a peaceful-ish existence at the top of the social hierarchy? Why make things complicated? If you're so hell bent on coming out, just tell a few people and let them spread it. You don't need to 'announce' it. And honestly, even if you do, no one is going to care after a few days, you're blowing this way out of proportion. You're such a fucking narcissist, stop thinking everyone is obsessed with you! Remus doesn't want to hide your relationship, so unless you want him to break up with you, you HAVE to do this. Just suck it up and tell everyone the truth. Moony deserves so much better than being someone's dirty secret, Sirius, you know he does! Take control of the narrative. You're a Gryffindor. Gryffindors are NOT cowards. And blimey, you're a Black too, Blacks don't care about the opinions of sheep, remember? Three words, I-am-gay. Then boom, done, goodbye. It's so simple, fucking shut up and do it!
Pushing open the giant double doors leading into the Great Hall… Sirius's forward progress comes to an abrupt end.
It’s packed.
Not expecting him to stop without warning, Death nearly knocks Sirius to the floor. “Forget where you're going?” he snarkily asks, grabbing the Gryffindor's shoulders to steady him. "Or did you finally accept that I am right, per usual, and this idea of yours is asinine?"
He might be onto something! Sirius thinks hysterically to himself. But then his inner stubbornness reminds him of the truth - even if Death is right, and this is NOT one of Sirius's finer schemes, he would rather die... hehe... than admit it. Uncontrollable pride really will be my downfall, sigh.
“It’s the weekend, meals are held for longer times than during the school week," Sirius squeaks out. "So, WHY are there so many people here?”
When he first thought of this plan back in the locker room, he psyched himself up by rationalizing that the hall would be a quarter-filled. At most. Sure, word would spread like wildfire, but his announcement would be delivered to a small audience, not a majority of the school! Sirius can't recall ever speaking in front of this many people before... whenever the Marauders' pranks/shenanigans include a public speaking component, James is automatically delegated to handle it. It's an arrangement the other three are perfectly content with; Sirius loves attention, don't get him wrong, but James excels at 'reading the room' and 'working the crowd' in a way he could never hope to replicate.
So, all by my lonesome, I've gotta speak about a MASSIVELY personal topic that I've hidden for my entire life, which is all but guaranteed to having lasting ramifications on my remaining years at Hogwarts??... ugh, pass, pass, pass, this really was a horrible idea, wasn't it?
Fuck, more than anything, Sirius wishes the other Marauders were here for support. But he also knows himself; if he doesn't go through with it now, he'll NEVER find the wherewithal to do it later, no matter how much support he has backing him up.
At least he’s not totally alone.
Behind them, an amused voice drawls, “Talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity, Starboy.”
“Marlene,” Sirius breathes, already knowing who the owner of the voice is before turning around.
Twirling a lock of hair around her finger, Marlene croons, "Sirius."
Without question, Marlene McKinnon is his closest non-Marauder friend. She’s never seen Sirius at his FULL weirdness (only Regulus and his cousins have), but he thinks she wouldn’t be fazed by it either. Marlene just gets him, on a fundamental level. With every fiber of his being, Sirius loves James, Remus, and Peter, but they don't understand him the same way she does.
"An ex-girlfriend, per chance?" Lost in his own head, Sirius startles at the sound so close to his ear. "You said her name quite reverentially, I'll have you know. It's VERY telling."
Earlier, Sirius thought he was so clever when he suggested Death 'disguise' himself by wearing Gryffindor robes; it's exceptionally likely they'll pass by a bunch of house elves throughout the castle, even if they don't realize it at the time. He even managed to convince his crabby pal to cover his wings too, I believe you when you say it's uncomfortable, and I don't blame you for not wanting to do it. But come on, mate, let's be honest with each other. Wizards and witches don't have wings. Yours are beautiful, and people die of envy when they see them, but with all due respect... you stick out like a sore thumb.
What Sirius did NOT stop to consider, but really, really should have, was how confusing it would be for him.
"I don't have any ex-girlfriends, as you very well know!" he answers without missing a beat. It's the mischievous glint in Death's eye that tells him he fucked up. Big time.
"I do know," Marlene agrees good-naturedly. "Not sure what that has to do with anything, though?"
"Right uhh... gee, have you seen those storm clouds rolling in? They're very... you know... stormy." To prevent himself from drawing his wand, Sirius shoves his hands into his pockets; his social gaffe leaves Death howling, his deep, booming laughter drowning out the noise inside the Great Hall.
Marlene, bless her, gives him a funny look but lets his madness slide. “Forgive me, love, but it's my solemn duty as your only sane friend to inform you that you and your boy mates are the odd ones for eating so early.” Uh okay, but what does she expect Sirius to do?! He despises eating by himself, but since Remus would happily sleep until the evening if left to his own devices, the Marauders compromise with an early lunch (whenever possible, they do everything as a quartet, which is another reason these last few weeks have been strange). “Also also, lots of clubs meet early in the afternoon on Saturdays… since I’m a wee peasant, I don’t know how you royals do things, but us common-folk gotta eat.”
In his snootiest voice, Sirius scoffs, “How disgraceful, it's no wonder your lot never gets anywhere in life. My people are above such lowly practices.”
With a grin, Marlene tugs him to the side to avoid blocking the doorway. “Alright, love? Rather uncommon to see you by your lonesome. Ever, truth be told, but for meals especially.”
"That is so unbelievably true," Death snorts. "And I don't think she even knows the half of it."
Regulus (with a lot of silent disdain and judgment) says Sirius is not meant to be a solitary creature. He’s a ‘people person’, who only tolerates isolation for ‘insanely’ short periods of time, unless fixated on a new interest.
Hearing the worry in her voice, Sirius puts on his best ‘everything is fine’ smile. “Never better… Remus and I made up, you see.”
Her face lights up, I’m surprised Evans didn’t tell her something changed between us after she left the Hospital Wing… either that, or Marlene is a phenomenal actress, even better than me… nah, who am I kidding, Evans must have kept her mouth shut. “Oh, thank Merlin! It felt so wrong and icky seeing you two at odds.” Marlene’s expression turns sly, and she waggles an eyebrow. “Made up how? Lots of hugs and kisses, I hope.”
Sirius’s cheeks blaze at her insinuation, his embarrassment worsened by Death’s sniggers. "Not like that!... well, sorta like that.... but also not like that!"
"You sure do have a way with words, Starboy."
"Don't tease me," Sirius whines, "I'm sensitive."
She pins him with a knowing look, but her next words are not the ones he expects. “You’re up to something, aren’t you?”
“Always am, m’lady.”
Looping their arms together, Marlene starts walking towards the Gryffindor table. “You can let little old me in on the secret, can't ya?”
“I’m here to address some rumors. So yes, little old you will be let in on the secret.”
"At the same time as everyone else?!" she whines. "Boo, you're no fun."
They're passing the Ravenclaw table when Sirius's progress is derailed, again, without warning.
A wooden game board. A putrid smell. Three vaguely familiar faces.
“Save me a seat?” he mutters distractedly. “I’ll be just a ‘mo, pinky promise.”
Familiar with his wonky attention span, Marlene goes without complaint (except for her ominous, “I will be getting the full story out of you by the end of the weekend, starlight of my life. You cannot escape me, I am inevitable.”)
“Oh, my Aunties would love her!" Death remarks gleefully. “I am certain she could get away with murder if she was so obliged. You don’t share any close relations?”
“You’d be the first to know if she off’d anyone, and no, not to my knowledge,” he says under his breath. Approaching the trio huddled together at the end of the Ravenclaw table, Sirius politely clears his throat. “Pardon the interruption, but you lot are on the Gobstones team, yeah? The competitive one?”
“Who’s asking?” a fourth-year Hufflepuff sniffs, turning her nose up at him.
A bloke Sirius recognizes from his time spent in the Slytherin Common Room smiles apologetically at him. It’s so hard to tell how old most of these shrimps are, but he's pretty sure this one is in the year below Reggie's. In retrospect, it would have been wise to pay attention to other sortings besides his brother’s; with 'Black, Regulus' going into Slytherin early on, Sirius distracted himself from his warring emotions by mentally categorizing each student as potential friends allies or foes for his brother. This Lady ‘Puff fell into the ‘allies’ category, but perhaps Sirius misjudged her. All the other sortings were spent plotting pranks with James, and sneaking furtive looks at Remus.
“Me,” Sirius retorts, raising a condescending eyebrow at her. “Obviously.”
“And you are?”
Puh-lease, like you don’t know who I am.
Behind him, Death scoffs, “She's delightful, isn't she?”
Before Sirius can respond with something scathing, the bespectacled Slytherin says, “Heather, this is Regulus’s older brother." He holds his hand out. “I'm Mason Summers, third-year.”
Heather's expression immediately warms. “Oh, well why didn’t you say so?”
Didn't know I needed to, Sirius thinks ruefully to himself.
“You know Reg?” Sirius asks while completing the handshake. He inclines his head towards the sassy ‘Puff, Merlin, I hope she isn’t Sofia 2.0. Or a knockoff version of her. “Same year, I presume?” (He will NOT give her the satisfaction of knowing he's aware of who she is. Not with that attitude!)
“Yes, sometimes Regulus and I partner up together in Herbology.” Her dreamy sigh has Sirius tensing, called it, Sofia 2.0! Oh Godric, these girls are gonna put a hit on James, I just know it. “Honestly, it's such a shame your brother isn’t a girl.”
"Well," Death whistles. “Alrighty then.”
Caught off guard, Sirius sputters, “Erm... you think so?” Bloody hell, their three Lady Black cousins were enough of a headache, he wouldn’t have survived with a sister!
"Oh yes, it's his only flaw," Heather continues, seemingly unaware of how her words have impacted the brother of the boy in question. "But I guess that Muggle bloke was right when he said one of the basic rules of the universe is that perfection doesn't exist."
Moving to stand beside him, Death lets out a peal of laughter. “Oh, your face is priceless!!”
Sirius glowers at him, hoping his expression conveys his thoughts, ‘OF COURSE MY FACE IS PRICELESS… and you are NOT funny.’
"She means no disrespect," Mason hastily adds, and the Black heir quickly reverts his expression back to something civil, oopsie. "We both think very highly of Regulus... as he is!"
"That's good to hear," Sirius says diplomatically, still trying to wrap his head around what this conversation has turned into.
Next to the Slytherin, an older redheaded Ravenclaw smirks. “I know it sounds like a crush -”
“It is NOT a crush!” the Hufflepuff cries, her cheeks burning crimson. She turns imploringly to Sirius. "I do not have a crush on your brother, I swear."
"It definitely sounds like a crush," Death murmurs, and Sirius exchanges a quick glance with him, I know, right?
As revenge for her earlier rudeness, he brusquely asks, "Does the idea of being romantically involved with my brother disgust you so?"
Mason, clearly the wisest of the three (despite being the youngest), stiffens at the undercurrent of indignation in his tone. Yet the Hufflepuff remains ignorant to the dangerous territory she's rapidly encroaching on.
"Yeah kinda. No offense."
No offense... NO OFFENSE?!! Sirius squawks in his head. She did NOT just go there!
"News flash, missy," the Gryffindor snaps, "saying 'no offense' before saying something offensive, does NOT make it any less offensive!" Sirius CANNOT with these fourth years. Who taught them manners?! "I suppose that's all well and good though, since you are definitely not his type." HA, so there!
"A relief," she says, sounding sincere. "Since he isn't mine either."
"She really doesn't know when to let things go, does she?" Death hums in his ear. "Sounds like someone else I know..."
"What exactly do you find so off-putting about my brother?!"
Heather gives him what is so obviously a 'How fucking dumb are you?' look, which Sirius does NOT appreciate!
"Well, for starters, Regulus is a boy..."
"Otherwise, he'd be perfect," the Ravenclaw teasingly mocks. "Right, Heather?"
“He is very nice and considerate, a concept that is foreign to a Neanderthal like you, Tommy!”
“You are, without a doubt, the weirdest lesbian I’ve ever met.”
Oooooooooh shite, that makes sense...
Sirius doesn't let his surprise show on his face, but by Death's knowing smirk, he's aware of his human pal's embarrassing oversight.
“I’m the only lesbian you’ve met!”
Sensing this bickering could go on forever if left uninterrupted, Sirius interjects, “Hey, quick question, because I’m running short on time… are you accepting new members?”
With an enthusiastic nod, Mason squeaks, “Yes, of course!”
... right as the Regulus-girl-wishing-Puff says, “No.”
Sirius gives her his most withering glare. “Wanna try that again?”
“It’s not personal,” Heather mutters without looking him in the eye.
"It seems personal," he grits out.
She frantically shakes her head. “It's not, I swear. We just don't allow,” a hand is waved haphazardly in his direction, “your kind on the team anymore.”
Pale fingers wrap tightly around Sirius's forearm. “Your kind? Your kind?!" Death hisses, eyes blazing. "What is... you know what, no. Absolutely not. We are through here, goodbye!"
It’s something he’s slowly coming to terms with, but Sirius is, and always will be, a Black.
“I thought you didn’t know who I was?” he asks sweetly, refusing to let Death drag him away. This little badger will regret the day she ever decided to disrespect him!! “And on that note, what exactly is ‘my kind’? I just want to be crystal clear when I tell Regulus why I wasn’t allowed to join. Since, ya know, he's considering it as well.”
"Oh no, is he really?" Sirius nods, Reggie will uphold the lie once I tell him about it, my little star is good like that. She sighs with the same sort of sorrowful angst his brother is notorious for, ever since infancy. “I meant Quidditch players.”
Death finally stops yanking on Sirius's arm... only to poke him instead. Repeatedly. “I do not understand, I thought Quidditch was ‘cool’?”
Of all the damn things… waitwaitwait, is this… could it be… the excuse I need to finally be done with all of these pointless practices -
“Last year, we had a guy from one of the Quidditch teams ask to join,” Mason rushes to explain. “Said his practices wouldn’t interfere with the tournaments, but -”
“No one from Hogwarts had made it to the European Semi-Finals in over a CENTURY," Heather continues shrilly, "but last year, we finally did! Only, this arsehole refused to go because he had an ‘important match’ coming up, and couldn’t afford to miss practice. We had to forfeit, didn’t have enough players… and his team lost anyway!”
Sirius opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, someone bangs into his left shoulder.
“Oops, didn’t see you there, Black,” Edwin Paxton, Ravenclaw’s incalculably inferior Seeker, sneers. “All you losers blend in together, ya know?”
“You’d know all about losing, wouldn’t you, Edwin?!” the Hufflepuff snaps, earning a smidgeon of Sirius’s respect. “How many points did your team lose by in that match against Slytherin? Worst loss in Ravenclaw’s history, wasn’t it?” Oof, make that heaps of respect!
“It was a four hundred and eighty point deficit,” the younger Slytherin supplies knowledgeably.
Tommy nods solemnly. "Worst loss recorded in Hogwarts history, period."
The Gryffindor Beater smirks. “Here's a thought, Edwin... might be a good idea to change your name to 'Edlose'. Seems more fitting, ya know?"
"Nice one!" Heather cackles, high fiving him.
Death snorts. "Ouch, you clearly struck a nerve."
"Don't fret!" Sirius continues before Paxton can say anything. "Who knows, maybe this will be your year... just remember, do NOT take your eyes off that little ball with the wings, and you’ll be golden!”
Paxton moves like he’s going to draw his wand, but his friends haul him away. Pity.
"Rowena have mercy, I detest him," Heather hisses through her teeth.
“That was the bloke, yeah?” Sirius fingers his own wand hidden in his sleeve, I suppose it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I hit him AND his pals. “Who ditched you?”
Death lightly flicks his earlobe to get his attention. “Do not. Not when there’s so many people around.” Sirius drops his hands back down with a huff. He’ll play nice… for now.
“Sure was.” The girl squints at him. “Wait, weren’t you the one who jumped him in the Entrance Hall last year?”
“Sure was.”
They share a long, meaningful look.
She sticks her hand out. “Heather Gleason, Team Captain. Welcome to the Gobstones team, Sirius Black.” Nepotism is nice and all, but nothing brings two people together quite like mutual hatred. “There is, however, something we should tell you…”
Making his way to the High Table, Sirius stops in front of his Head of House (a curious-Death stayed behind, deciding he'd rather watch a Gobstones match be played).
“Professor McGonagall,” he greets chipperly. Sirius waits until she glances up to whip out his brightest smile. “Good afternoon.”
She matches his pep with a severely unimpressed expression; it's frighteningly similar to the one she wore last year when she caught him and James buttering the floor in the Entrance Hall (they weren’t trying to kill anyone… once someone fell, they’d bounce back up… and off the walls… and off the ceiling too. Sigh, it would have been awesome, way cooler than those Muggle bounce houses Remus told them about).
“Mr. Black… I assume you have a good reason for interrupting me while I’m eating? As you recall, it is the ONE time teachers ask to be left uninterrupted, except during an emergency. Is this an emergency?”
“My apologies, ma’am, but I thought this might qualify as one, at least to you.” Putting down her magazine, Professor McGonagall waves a hand for him to continue. “I’m quitting the Quidditch team, effective immediately.”
Sirius's comment, although not loud, gains the attention of several teachers nearby... including the Divination instructor, Professor Shaede, who starts choking on her food, and the Herbology teacher, Professor Sprout, who's so startled by his announcement, her fork falls out of her hand, hitting the plate with a clamorous clank!
“Oh?” Professor McGonagall peers disapprovingly at him over her spectacles. “And how did Mr. Potter take such news? Should I expect him to hand in his resignation next?”
Sirius snorts. “If he does, you know the world is ending. Actually, you’re the first person I’ve told. I confess, I’m not really looking forward to telling him. He’s assuredly going to be super dramatic about it, and he’ll probably cause a scene… or ten. You know how James gets about Quidditch.” It’s pretty similar to how you get about the sport, actually, what a coincidence. “My only hope is that he doesn't cry.”
Lips pursing into a thin line, she stares at him for nearly a minute. But thanks to a lifetime of challenging authority figures at every turn, Sirius gazes steadily back, unperturbed. “And what, pray tell, will you be doing instead?”
“Mr. Black is in his fifth year now, Minerva,” Professor Flitwick notes from the spot beside her. “Many claim this is the most difficult school year out of the seven. Even our brightest students are known to struggle.”
“I suppose it is your O.W.L. year, isn’t it?” Sirius can't help but wonder if he’s imagining the bitterness in her last remark. “Shall I presume that if you’re suddenly quitting the Quidditch team, it means you will be focusing all of your time on your studies?”
“Eww, what? No, it’s only September!” Anyone who has to start studying now for a series of tests in JUNE has a huge problem. The sort of problem that only divine intervention (or threats/bribery/blackmail) can solve. “Aww, Minns, is this your way of telling me you think I’m dumb?”
Per usual, she's unfazed by Sirius’s dramatics. “I believe your father said it best actually, when he remarked that it became evident early on you were 'much too smart' for your own good... would you agree that is an accurate statement, Mr. Black?”
I think that sounds rather suspicious, Sirius scoffs in his head.
“Might be... I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume he had much more to say during that conversation and a majority of it was significantly less nice, yes?” He’s appeased by her ‘so-so’ gesture. “As I am a genius who will not start revising until May at the earliest, I’ve decided to branch out and try new things.”
On Professor McGonagall’s other side, Professor Slughorn rests his chin on steepled fingers. “Something aside from Quidditch caught your eye, young man? Dueling Club, perhaps?”
“Ah, I sure hope not,” the Charms Professor winces. “Unfortunately, the lifetime ban Mr. Potter and Mr. Black acquired in the Dueling Club prohibits them from joining any Hogwarts-run Dueling teams.”
Prior to his departure for Hogwarts, Uncle Alphard advised Sirius to forgo trying out for the school-run Dueling Team, ‘If you wish to join the Dueling Club, do so. It's an excellent way to learn from older students, through both observation and mentoring. But be warned, nephew… the competitive Hogwarts Dueling Team does not condone the type of ferocious fighting style we have taught you and your brother at home. While I have full confidence you would make the team if you were to tryout, trust me when I say, it is exceptionally easy to slip up. Your parents would not appreciate being placed under undue scrutiny, and I believe you would not find enjoyment in being forced to answer uncomfortable questions either, hmm?’
Wholeheartedly agreeing with his uncle, Sirius has zero desire to join the Dueling Team... but that's beside the point!
“Uhhh, we can ALL agree Professor Wilton was SUPER dramatic about that, right? Not to mention, he doesn’t even work here anymore, yet James and I are still banned? Make it make sense!"
“You’re right, he does not work here anymore." Professor McGonagall smiles humorously at him. "Because he resigned at the end of the school year due to health issues caused by the stress of YOUR little prank!”
"Nah, it sounds like the curse on the Defense position made him resign." Hit with a startling realization, Sirius gasps. "Oooh, no, I know what happened! The curse bewitched us, Minnie. Oh my gosh, it forced me and James to spend several Dueling Club meetings conjuring different wigs onto Professor Wilton when he wasn't looking! We are innocent!"
Professor Flitwick rubs his chin. "An interesting theory, I wonder..." Catching his colleague's glare in his peripheral vision, his thoughtful expression turns stern. "There is no curse, so please do not spread misinformation, Mr. Black!"
"There is though," Sirius counters, exasperated. "Everyone knows it! Why do we keep denying it?"
“There is NOT a curse on the Defense position!" Professor McGonagall huffs. "How many times must we have this conversation?" As many times it takes until you finally accept that I know what I'm talking about.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he pouts. "Can we go back to how I have been ensnared against my will? I am a victim -"
"You will NOT blame this made-up spell for yours and Mr. Potter's actions, Sirius!"
He smirks internally - rarely does his Head of House call him (or any student for that matter) by his first name. It's deeply amusing to see what situations get her to do so. The fifth-year Gryffindors have a running tally going on since first year, counting each time she uses their first name... how they decided upon this, he doesn't remember, but they deemed it indicative of who her favorite student is. For a while, Lily Evans was in first place, and Sirius burned with resentment. But last year, he slowly began making a comeback, to the point where he's now created a solid lead for himself.
A lead he will not allow anyone to steal from him!
Inspecting his nails, Sirius calmly counters with, "Hogwarts herself told me about the curse, so forgive me for remaining skeptical." The next chance he gets, he'll be asking her about his new theory too! "It was cast by some bloke who was miffed because he thought he got shafted -"
"Sirius Black, this castle is NOT sentient, and I implore you to stop scaring the younger children... and Mr. Potter... with tales purporting otherwise!" Ooh, first and last name, that's double points!
One of these days, it's going to be first, middle, and surname, I can feel it! And then everyone will KNOW for sure I've won, which will so glorious... until she kills me, that is.
"Respectfully, I disagree," Sirius sniffs. "And I know I'm right, thank you."
“Poor man was rapidly teetering towards a nervous breakdown when he left,” Slughorn interrupts them, apparently not realizing they've moved onto better arguments. “I heard he’s been traveling the world ever since, trying to find a solution to his… ah… lack of locks.”
"How were James and I supposed to know he was sensitive about being bald?! I mean, we're awesome and super smart, yeah, but we aren't mind readers!” the Gryffindor-Black cries, once again reminded of the injustice of it all. And considering Sirius received an extra week of detentions compared to James, it’s glaringly obvious Professor Wilton was jealous of his luscious mane. Understandable and all, but come on! “We thought he looked fine, he just needed to own it!”
Professor McGonagall rolls her eyes. “The idea is that you DON'T tease people, regardless of what they might or might not be insecure about."
"I will take your counsel under advisement," he graciously concedes.
"I am overjoyed." She does not sound overjoyed. "Now, moving on… if you are not playing Quidditch, and you are not dueling, what will you be doing?”
Struggling to contain his excitement, Sirius chirps, “I joined the Gobstones team!"
"The Gobstones team?" his Head of House echoes blankly.
"Yep! And lemme just say, I cannot wait to start training. We are going to crush the other schools, they won’t know what hit ‘em.”
A bemused silence follows his pronouncement.
“... is there a reason as to why you cannot do both?” Professor Sprout inquires politely.
Smothering down his triumph, I had hoped someone would ask that, he mimics Reggie’s most woebegone sigh. “Well, technically I have enough time to do both, if I’m permitted to miss one Quidditch practice a week. But I’m in a bit of a pickle, you see. According to the rulebook, a school-run Gobstones team can’t compete in tournaments against other educational institutions without having a Sponsor. And while I’m sure I can find someone of age to do it, I’d feel really guilty if they went out of their way to help me, but I didn’t put in my full effort to ensure our team’s success. Does that make sense?”
Every adult currently seated at the High Table immediately turns their gaze to the Deputy Headmistress, whose eyes have narrowed into cat-like slits. “Interestingly, I was asked earlier in the week to sponsor that particular team, but I regretfully informed them I did not have the spare time. I imagine it is simply a coincidence you have now joined that team?”
“It is, actually!” Sirius confirms brightly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a search to conduct. Luckily, it doesn’t need to be a teacher, only an ‘adult’, so I’ve got some ideas on where to start. I thank you for so generously lending me your listening ears, Esteemed One, and once again apologize for interrupting your meal.” He adds a sweeping bow for good measure, then spins on his heel.
Three steps, that's as far as he makes it before his progress is derailed. Again. Though this time, it's not his fault!
“Mr. Black. Let me first inform you that you are not nearly as clever as you presume yourself to be. The art of subtlety is lost on you.”
“But success is not,” he whispers to himself.
“What was that?” she asks sharply.
Turning around, Sirius fibs, “I said, ‘So, I’ve heard.'” He bats his eyelashes, radiating innocence. She’s not fooled, she never is, and yet… he gets his way, regardless.
Exactly as he should.
“She agreed?!” Mason asks in awe, reading the truth through Sirius’s ‘neutral’ mask, Blimey, I really wouldn’t have done well in Slytherin.
At a closer distance, the snakes would have seen right through his bollocks!
“This game is ridiculous,” Death grumbles, sitting crossed-legged on the table. “That’s why you enjoy it, yes?”
Sirius nods in response to both questions. “She did. I also get to miss one Quidditch practice a week, so an extra win for me, and she’s going to ensure the tournaments don’t interfere with any Gryffindor matches.”
“If you’re that excited to miss practice,” Heather eyes him with a frighteningly calculating look, “why don’t you quit altogether?”
“I’m liking her more and more,” the peanut gallery chips in.
Sirius half-shrugs. “S’complicated. I like playing in matches, but practicing constantly for only a few games a year is barmy. And my best mate is on the team, so that makes it enjoyable-ish.”
And his life would be the far opposite of enjoyable if he were to quit. If James really, really, really wants something, he has absolutely zero qualms about being unfathomably annoying until he gets his way. As stubborn as Sirius is, his best mate knows how to push ALL of his buttons... it's a recipe for disaster. Plus, with his brother and best mate now consorting with each other, it behooves Sirius to maintain the peace.
“Don’t let her get under your skin, mate.” Tommy expertly dodges the putrid liquid from Heather’s stone. “She means no harm, but she has to ask whatever’s on her mind.”
“I get it.” He exchanges a small, understanding smile with his new teammate, who would have thought she'd become my ally? “But hey, I’ll catch you lot later. I’ve got something to take care of.”
“Ooh, so mysterious,” Heather taunts, laughing when Sirius sticks his tongue out at her. “Have fun, don’t get caught.”
“Actually, I’m planning to get caught this time.”
“You can still change your mind,” Death says, sticking close to him as they make their way towards Marlene at the Gryffindor table. “You do not need to do this. Be seen holding hands with him, if you so wish. Maybe share a quick kiss outside of your dormitory. The talebearers will do the work in your stead, sparing you the agony you risk enduring should you proceed with ripping your heart out in shark-infested waters!”
“That’s cowardly." At least, Sirius thinks it's cowardly... maybe? Not entirely sure I understand what the heck he's going on about. Regardless, hopefully the noise from the hall will drown out his voice. “I will not be a coward any longer.”
"Where you see cowardice, I see resourcefulness. There are few creatures as wicked and cruel as teenagers... Sirius, you worked so hard to protect yourself from the acidic poison of their ire, why strip yourself of that armor now?"
That's a great fucking question, innit it?
"I'm tired," he whispers truthfully. "Hiding... it's exhausting."
Death sighs. "And fighting isn't exhausting?"
"Guess we're going to find out, huh?"
Tapping Marlene on the shoulder, Sirius musters up a tight-lipped smile when she turns around. "Mon amour, can you do the same deafening whistle as your brother?”
The blonde's expression becomes offended. “Who do you think he learned it from?!”
“Apologies, I beg your forgiveness, your excellency.” Sirius kisses her hand, ignoring Death’s groan from behind him. “Would you do me the honor of getting the Hall’s attention? I promise, you’re in for a treat, not a trick.” Merlin, at least he hopes.
Plugging his ears, he swivels around to ensure Death does the same. The ear-splitting noise, muffled but still audible for Sirius, startles a girl at the Hufflepuff table so badly, she spills her pumpkin juice on Smith… sitting two seats down from her.
Giggling to himself as he steps onto the bench, Sirius takes a moment to gather his bearings. He doesn't need to ask for an introduction; Marlene gives him one anyways.
"Oi, listen up, folks! The best looking bloke to ever walk the halls of our fine school has something to say!"
"Pierre's here?" Fawley asks from halfway down the bench - the Gryffindor bench - having decided to get a jumpstart on schmoozing with the Prewett twins.
"Merlin have mercy, do NOT go there!" the (best ever) Gryffindor Captain groans.
For once, Justin Fawley sees sense. "Kidding, kidding." Meeting Sirius's eyes, he tips his imaginary hat. "My apologies, mate."
There's a murmur of confusion at that. While Sirius respects his brother too much to start a war of words... or spells... with his Captain, pretty much anybody with a lick of common sense knows that the Gryffindor-Black is NOT 'mates' with Justin Fawley... or anyone else on the Slytherin Quidditch team for that matter (Reggie doesn't count, of course).
“Hem hem... friends, foes, Fawley, and Hogwarts faculty, I apologize for interrupting your meal on this fine Saturday.” Sirius doesn’t need a Sonorous Charm. A hush has fallen over the room. “I'll make it quick, but I've got some important things to share. Let's start with the good news, shall we?" His skin buzzes with nerves, yet somehow, his voice remains steady. "I am happy to report that I am officially off the market!"
There's an uproar following his announcement... which doesn't bode well for the rest of what he has to say, damn.
"Noooo!" sixth-year Melanie Wallace cries from the Ravenclaw table. "This was supposed to be MY year!"
“You had your chance, Wallace!” Eleanor snaps, oh bloody hell, why does she have to be here?
“You blew it too, what are you talking about?” Melanie hotly counters. “At least I can tell him apart from his little brother! Can you say the same, Elle?”
Death covers his face with his hands. "Fates have mercy.”
"Who's your girlfriend?" Reeves brazenly asks from further down the Gryffindor table, glaring at a female housemate across from him.
"Better not be my sister," Captain McKinnon chuckles, until Marlene throws a roll at his forehead. “If it is, I’d urge you to spare yourself the trouble - oi, watch it, woman!”
“You need to work on your aim, Baby McKinnon,” Fabian (or is that Gideon?) tuts.
The other twin smirks. “Like this!” He lobs a sausage link at their Captain’s head, but with a snap of Sirius’s fingers, the piece of meat falls harmlessly to McKinnon’s plate.
“Sorry, mate, can’t have you starting a food fight during my speech.” Besides, he wants to stay on McKinnon’s good side… Sirius is gonna need all the help he can get when James learns he’ll be missing one practice a week for the rest of the year.
It doesn't stop him from sharing a conspiring grin with the twins - whatever happens afterwards is not Sirius’s problem.
"Now, I know you all think you know me,” Sirius continues with unusual solemnness. The previously-raucous room is now unnaturally silent, his peers hanging on his every word. “The popular bloke who flirts shamelessly with every girl, the one who’s never been in a serious, no pun intended, relationship. But if there's anything attending a magical boarding school should have taught us, it's that things are not always as they appear.”
Unconsciously, Sirius scans the tables for a familiar face. Finding it at the Slytherin table, he locks eyes with Narcissa. Ever-so-slightly, she inclines her head. Supportive. Encouraging. It gives him the confidence to continue.
“For over fifteen years, I have been living a lie. Not because I wanted to deceive anyone," technically true, "but because I was afraid. Afraid of judgment, of rejection. But I cannot continue this way any longer. Today, I am done hiding.” The words spill out, raw and vulnerable. “I am not a 'womanizer', or a 'skirt-chaser', or a 'manwhore'. I have never been, nor will I ever be -"
"Bollocks!" someone calls from the Slytherin table. "You flirt with every girl, you said it yourself!"
"Be quiet, Avery!" Andromeda swiftly retorts, sitting a few seats away from Avery 2. "Let him finish."
He nods his thanks. "As I was saying... I am NONE of those things," Sirius inhales deeply, then slowly lets it out, “because I am gay. And I refuse to be ashamed of it."
The students stir. Gasps echo throughout the hall, whispers spreading like wildfire. Some exchange surprised glances, while others scowl. A few roll their eyes. But no one boos him off the ‘stage’. No one jeers at him or calls him names. No one (else) calls him a liar. There’s even some warm smiles directed his way.
"Come on, are you REALLY surprised by that? How bloody daft are you?!" a familiar voice scoffs from the Hufflepuff table. When he turns around, he finds Maryse Smith glaring at a few of her housemates. The boy sitting beside her starts whispering fervently in her ear.
"I like to think I'm a very good actor," Sirius jokes, earning a few chuckles.
"Crap, sorry mate!" Maryse apologizes with a sheepish grin. "Didn't mean to interrupt. You keep doing you, you've got my vote!" She gives him a thumbs up. "Wait, actually, we all want to know... is your brother still on the market?"
"These girls are shameless!" Death cries, sounding genuinely scandalized. "Lyra is going to have a field day when he hears about this."
I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! Sirius screams in his head. Always teasing me for being a 'busybody', like he's not listening to every word I have to say and asking loads of questions about people he knows not... a giant gossip if there ever was one, you cannot fool me!
Sirius smirks at the younger girl. "Great question. I'll be sure to let him know you're asking." If he expected her to be embarrassed, or even the tiniest bit chagrined... she's not.
"So… who's your boyfriend?" Tommy asks, sounding genuinely curious.
"Five galleons on Potter," a Ravenclaw beside him answers.
"Remember, good sir, gambling is bad!” And Reggie would murder me in my sleep if that were true. “My boyfriend is NOT my bestest best mate, James Potter, first of his name.”
Yesterday, while Regulus was napping after blowing up half the Hospital Wing, Sirius told Remus and James about how he came out to Father (he might have also taken some time to brag about how upset the Black patriarch was that Sirius 'pulled one over on him'), and their family’s supposed acceptance of his sexuality. He waited until James went to fetch some supplies from Gryffindor to confess the full truth to Remus, from Reggie’s Possible Suitors list, which his brother shyly requested James be added to, to the awkward discussion about Sirius and Remus’s potential future offspring (which he did NOT mean to say, but it kind of spilled out when he mentioned Narcissa’s support of their union). Remus, bless him, took it in stride, and dare Sirius say it, seemed relieved. He didn’t get a chance to question his boyfriend on why he wouldn’t want to have a child with his own genetics (he’d bet his Gringotts vault it’s because of the whole ‘furry problem’ bit… not that Sirius gambles!... but if he did…). Remus softly asked if Sirius was planning to let the school know about their relationship. Coward that he is, he begged off on making a decision right then, claiming he wanted to write Grandmother Melania first before making it public, ‘Just give me a few days, Moony, maybe a week, and then we can begin our campaign to be Hogwarts Best Power Couple.’ Rolling his eyes rather adorably, Remus assured him he could take his time (which made Sirius want to weep, he was so undeserving of Remus John Lupin), but he wanted it to be known that he would prefer not to keep their relationship a secret in the long term.
So, hopefully, Remus isn’t going to rip him a new one for his answer…
Jutting his chin out, Sirius continues, “My boyfriend is none other than Remus Lupin, first of his name, Prefect, Marauder, smartest bloke at Hogwarts, second most beautiful… behind moi, of course… and genuinely so far out of my league, convincing him to date me will likely be my greatest achievement in life.” He tilts his head in consideration. “At least until I get him to agree to be my husband."
Sirius nearly falls off the table when the girls in his year start squealing excitedly to one another.
"I called it in second year, didn't I?!" Mary McDonald 'whispers' to Evans and Marlene.
"God, they finally got their shite together, huh?" Evans murmurs back to her friend. Louder, she says, "I'm happy for you two."
"We all are!" Marlene adds with a wide smile.
"Thank you," Sirius answers sincerely. He doesn't get a chance to say anything else.
At the High Table, Professor McGonagall rises to her feet. “Mr. Black.” Oh shite, she looks pissed. “While Mr. Lupin is indeed a kind, studious, and polite individual,” she gives him a pointed look, “who possesses a high degree of emotional intelligence and maturity, not commonly found in others of a similar age,” another pointed look, “please see to it that you achieve more in life than just getting him to date you, yes? Otherwise, I will be most displeased.”
Bowing his head, Sirius croons, “I understand, Your Exaltedness. With these peasants as my witness, I, your humble servant, swear to take over the world at my earliest convenience, as you so requested.”
Lips pulling up at the corners, she raises her goblet. “Congratulations on your relationship, Mr. Black. And for the love of Merlin, do sit down before you fall and break your head. I’d hate to ruin the house elves’ day.”
“Why would she speak that into the universe?” Death squawks, stepping closer to him. “It’s like she’s asking for that to happen!”
“One more thing!” Addressing the room at large, Sirius’s expression darkens. A warning of the storm to come, should they not heed his words. "Let it be known, if I catch ANY of you flirting with my man, bird or bloke, you will have to answer to me. And no, Professor McGonagall, that is not a threat, I would never.” He flashes the smile Evans once said made him look demonic. “It's a promise."
Convinced he's about to brain himself on the ground, Death hovers closely as Sirius steps down from his improvised stage. But that's not where the threat comes from...
Leaping up from the bench, Marlene throws her arms around him, nearly whacking him in the head. “Oops, sorry... but I’m just so proud of you, Starboy!” she whispers, her voice tight with emotion. “I'm positive you've inspired a lot of people. If the great Sirius fuckin' Black can be gay, so can the rest of us plebs, yeah?”
“You should be proud of yourself, too." Death pats him awkwardly on the shoulder. "That was very brave."
For the first time in his life, Sirius believes that maybe, just maybe, a day will come where he can be himself without fear. His entire self.
Notes:
Look at me posting three Thursdays in a row! My new couch delivered yesterday, so hopefully I'll be able to write more since it's wayyy comfier than my floor (and for some reason, I only work in my bed when it's night time lmaooo)
Hope you enjoy!
Also yes, the DADA curse was technically broken at the end of Sirius's third year... it wasn't the curse that got his teacher last year ;)
Chapter 36: Contentious Debriefings Part I
Notes:
In which things start going downhill for Sirius in ways he could never have anticipated...
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Regulus catches sight of Sirius first.
“Back so soon?” his brother asks, nose scrunched up as James slathers his face with sunscreen potion.
After fleeing leaving the Great Hall, Death accompanied Sirius back to the locker room. Lost in their own thoughts, the journey was completed in silence… excluding Death's bitchy rant about Sirius walking too fast, ‘This is not a race, you know. There’s no need to rush. You will find your companions almost exactly as you left them.’ Deeming the demand request undeserving of a verbal response, Sirius slowed his pace, an acquiesce that had nothing to do with the pit of dread forming in his stomach at the thought of how pissed said companions are going to be over his prolonged absence... not to mention what they'll say when he divulges everything he did during their time apart!
Because chivalry is dead, Death agreed to act as a lookout while Sirius expertly picked the lock on Madam Hooch’s office door. Surprisingly, his miscreant behavior didn't result in a lecture. Even better, Death refrained from voicing all of the not-nice comments floating around in his head (which Sirius could read clear-as-day on his face… it’s the thought that counted, right?).
Everything was fine and dandy, until the Black heir experienced another foray into madness, this one worse than the previous ones combined.
It started innocently enough; Sirius asked if he would be joining them on the Quidditch Pitch. Death said no, he needed to go. Okay, no problem. ‘Tis a well-known fact Death is a busy bloke, and Sirius poached plenty of his time already; he didn't take offense. Besides, it was probably for the best. Accidentally responding to something Death said in Remus and/or Regulus’s earshot? Blimey, that would NOT go over well! Neither his brother nor his boyfriend would be as dismissive about his ‘craziness’ as Marlene was.
Per the norms of polite society… polite human society… there were several acceptable ways Sirius could have responded to Death’s statement:
1. Inquiring about when he planned to return next
2. Thanking him for his help/support
3. Simply saying ‘bye bye’
Out of a selection of NORMAL responses for when someone is preparing to depart, he chose… dun dun dun…
4. None of the above!
What Sirius did will haunt him for the rest of his remaining days (which likely just dropped in number, oof).
First, he pouted… then he whined a bit… thennnn he threw his arms around Death’s shoulders and pulled him into a crushing hug. Exactly like he would if he was saying goodbye Marlene or the other Marauders. But he wasn't saying goodbye to Marlene, James, Remus, or Peter, was he? No! He was saying goodbye to an ancient immortal being. Worse, Sirius didn’t even REALIZE what he’d done until Death half-heartedly patted him on the head, his body stiff as a board. Mortified by his behavior, Sirius then made it ten times weirder by SHIFTING into his Animagus form. For eons, dog and deity (?) silently gaped at each other, unsure what to do next. Death broke first; glancing away, he shuffled his feet, his demeanor radiating intense discomfort. Padfoot's response was pure instinct. Lowering his head, he tucked his tail between his legs, whimpering pitifully. When his canine hearing picked up an amused snort, Padfoot decided to ham it up. Putting his acting skills to good use, he keeled over and played dead, tongue lolling out of his mouth and everything. An award winning performance, if he says so himself, worthy of every accolade known to man and god (?) alike.
It was enough to break the tension.
Overcome with a dreadful case of the giggles, Death sunk to the floor, shoulders shaking from the force of his laughter. Padfoot/Sirius swelled with pride, because he did that. All by himself. Without really trying either.
Sirius then had a startling realization -
Death is Sirius’s friend and only Sirius’s friend.
And that’s exhilarating.
For the first time ever, Sirius has a friend all to himself. Competing/warring loyalties? Never gonna be an issue. He accidentally said something uncharitable about a friend or acquaintance? Zero risk of it getting back to them (yes, Sirius is a prick who sometimes says things about people that aren't all that nice, things he doesn't truly mean… he’s working on it, okay?). He engages in behavior unbefitting of the heir to a posh Pureblood family like his own? Death doesn't give a single fuck what Sirius does, nor is he going to rat him out to his parents.
Before this school year, Sirius would have said he doesn't need anyone in his life besides James, Remus, Peter, and Marlene. But now? Blimey, he's insanely grateful for his friendship with Death! The Marauders have never experienced a fallout of any sizable magnitude. Their spats... usually between Sirius and Remus, sigh... were resolved in a handful of days, if not hours. But their latest fight went on for weeks, which put James and Peter in a horribly awkward position. To give credit where credit is due, James managed to split his time fairly evenly between Sirius and Remus, while maintaining a neutral position overall. But Sirius?... yeah, he does NOT have that kind of patience. Or tact. Or any mediation skills to speak of.
During this rocky time period, Sirius was able to turn to his brother, but what about in the future? Now that James and Regulus are fraternizing, things could get massively complicated if they found themselves at odds with one another. Or ugh, with Sirius himself! He knows he'd absolutely LOSE it if he got in a row with Regulus, and James picked his brother's side.
But with his immortal friend, Sirius doesn't have to worry about any of these things!
“Yes, yes, my sincerest apologies for taking so long -”
“Stop moving!” James huffs, holding Regulus’s chin in place. “Unless you want sunscreen potion in your eye?”
“Do you want to die?” the youngest Black swiftly counters.
Throwing an arm around Remus’s shoulders, I can do this whenever I want now, without all that annoying guilt because it meant so much more to me than it did to him, Sirius silently watches Regulus and James bickering back and forth. Again.
“I do not -”
“Are you trying to use the entire vial -”
“If you just STOPPED squirming, everything would be fine!”
“It’s cold,” Regulus whines. “I don’t like it.”
“Aww, my poor baby -”
Oh, no no no.
Sirius is not doing this. Not today, not ever.
“If you two are quite through -”
“Brother,” Regulus tersely interrupts, has he always been such a brat?... yeah probably. Definitely not my fault though, “if you would be so kind, could you please explain to your friend that my skin is not THAT pale, and I am NOT at risk of being burned to death by sunlight?” James holds his (significantly) tanner arm next to Regulus's borderline-translucent one. “That’s an unfair comparison.” He turns imploringly to his older brother. “Tell him that’s unfair, Siri!”
“Never fear, Baby Black,” James says before Sirius can get a word in. “Since your brother is also abnormally pale, he's next. Especially that face of his -”
“My beautiful face -”
“Honestly, were you two forbidden from going outdoors in your pre-Hogwarts years?”
“Yes,” Regulus and Sirius lie at the same time.
“Wow.”
Having no intention of allowing James to come anywhere near his face, Sirius directs the topic back to his brother. “I’ll sort it out for myself, thanks. But Reggie, James has a point… you do burn the worst out of all of us. You need to be better about using sunscreen potion, or you'll regret it in the coming decades.”
“I do NOT!” Sirius stares challengingly at his sibling; Regulus puffs his cheeks out like he's going to start yelling, but at the last moment, opts for a safer route. “Your data is inconclusive. Most of our relatives avoid sunlight, with only a handful of us regularly spending time outdoors. Saying I burn the worst between you, Cissa, and Andie is an accurate statement, I won’t deny that. But saying I burn the worst out of every Black? Such a claim is impossible to prove... do you understand my words, brother, or should I draw a graph?”
“Personally, I’d love a graph,” James says, smiling innocently at Regulus’s scowl.
“Did you know that sunscreen potion is most effective when applied to the skin in a moderate layer?” Removing a vial from his own robes, Remus diligently spreads the potion across his freckled nose, the only spot on his entire body that ever burns. “There’s a limit to how much the skin can absorb at one time, so slathering it on like that is wasteful.”
Sirius doesn’t miss the grateful smile his brother sends Remus, nor the way his boyfriend inclines his head in acknowledgement.
A possibly dangerous alliance, he mentally notes. Will need to keep an eye on that in the future… their brains together could be diabolical.
A few meters away, Evan meticulously spreads the potion on Crouch's face, standing on his tiptoes to do so. Crouch gazes at him with the sort of look Sirius can recognize with his eyes closed - fond, smitten, besotted. It’s the exact same dopey expression James sported whenever he observed Lily Evans (usually from afar, since by their second year, the redhead wasn't too keen on the Potter heir being anywhere near her).
He probably stares at Regulus like that too, his seditious brain whispers. You just never noticed.
Sirius cuts that thought off immediately, but makes a mental note to approach Emma and Ella Rosier at the earliest opportunity. Perhaps an exchange of valuable information between older siblings can serve as a peace treaty of sorts? With Ella on the Quidditch team, she undoubtedly possesses valuable insight on this rubbish with Travers.
Regulus snatches the vial out of James’s hands. “Your turn, Potter.”
"Nope, not needed. I don't burn. Ever."
"And I do not believe you."
"Aw, that hurts, Baby Black." It actually is true, and if Sirius were the jealous type, he'd be green with envy about it. "Ask Remus, he'll tell you."
"Remus thinks James should use sunscreen potion, regardless. Your skin doesn't burn, true, but who's to say the sun isn't doing unseen damage?"
"My thoughts exactly," Regulus says smugly.
Opening his mouth to demand everyone redirect their attention to where it should be - on him, please and thank you - Sirius doesn’t get the opportunity to start yelling; a random, high-pitched tinkling noise emits from somewhere on the right, the sound eerily reminiscent of those dainty, useless bells Aunt Lucretia collects (the same ones Sirius insists on pristinely polishing whenever she ‘babysits’ them). Several 'what the fuck?' looks are exchanged, but no one approaches the area where the sound originated from, even after the ringing fades away. It’s only when a halo of light encases their pile of brooms that a member of their group is spurred into action; with a squeal Regulus will surely be mortified about later (or at least should be), he shoves the potion vial into James’s hands, then practically skips to his beloved Blackstar.
“My darling,” the Slytherin Seeker coos, delicately picking up his broom (to get it away from the inferior peasant-brooms, Sirius’s brain whispers). “Reunited at last, oh, how I’ve missed you so.”
Sirius isn’t sure which part makes him roll his eyes harder; how (adorably) obsessed his brother is with his broom, or how lovesick James looks while watching Regulus murmur sweet nothings to it.
Wait a diddly darn minute…
Swallowing his pride, Sirius says (through clenched teeth), “Guess you were right.” If his gaze remains firmly on his boyfriend’s forehead, well, that's nobody's business. “And I was wrong. Congrats.”
But Remus doesn’t smirk pridefully, or lament about how Sirius should listen to him more. Rather, his eyes narrow, his lips pursing into a straight line. “Such petty boasting is beneath you, Siri.”
“It’s really not,” the Gryffindor-Black answers truthfully. “However, I wouldn’t do that to my Moonbeam… at least not over something small like this! Bigger things? Totally, sorry, sweetcheeks.”
Drawing his wand, Remus casts a Tempus Charm. Sirius stares uncomprehendingly at the time displayed. He doesn’t know precisely when he left to go hang out in the locker room with Death, but there should have been only a couple minutes remaining on the time-release spell. Ten minutes, at most. Plus, Sirius was gone for ages, had to have been! Casting his own Tempus Charm, Sirius then grabs James’s wrist to check the time on his watch.
“Huh, maybe I really do have time blindness.”
Sirius doesn’t… well, okay, he might, just a little bit… but how else can he explain why he has no sense of how much time has passed? Or rather, not passed.
Fuck, this could get awkward.
“We know,” James and Remus grumble at the same time, sharing an exasperated look Sirius does not appreciate.
Sadly, there's more pressing matters to attend to, so he's forced to let it go. With a snap of his fingers, Sirius summons Regulus’s broom to him, grinning smugly at James’s muttered, ‘show off’.
“For fuck’s sake!” his brother shrieks. It’s a testament to Regulus’s Seeker reflexes that he manages to grab onto the handle… but Sirius’s spell is too powerful, and it’s wrenched out of his grip. “WHY MUST I SUFFER THIS WAY?!” He points angrily at his older sibling. "Why must you make me suffer this way?!"
Valuing his life, the Black heir doesn’t laugh like he secretly wants to… Remus should definitely applaud his restraint, because it’s exceptionally difficult to contain his mirth at Regulus’s indignant/betrayed expression.
“I’ve got a couple of things to say first, and then you can fly with your friends to your heart’s content, Reggie.”
A loud groan comes from one of those said friends. “He’ll keep us out here all night, mate!” Crouch whines. “And probably into the morning, if he can get away with it.”
“And that’s a problem, why?” Between Regulus’s blank stare and Remus’s polite cough, James quickly checks his attitude. “Erm…” He winces. “I’ll keep Reg company, little snakes, not to worry! You can slither back to the dungeons whenever you get sleepy. Your best mate will be in good hands, I promise.”
A smirk slowly blooms across Crouch's face. “I bet you’d love that, wouldn't you, Potter? All alone with our darling Regulus, just the two of you under the starlight -”
“I think the fuckity fuck NOT, James Potter!”
“Oi, I didn’t say a thing, mate!”
“Not to worry, Sirius," Crouch snorts, nudging Evan. "Reg will be in good hands, isn’t that right?”
“I bet he will,” the shorter Slytherin mutters.
Sirius draws his wand (he doesn’t need a wand for a good amount of hexes, but it gets his point across).
James frowns but doesn’t move to defend himself. “Come on, don't be like that!”
“Can I have my broom back now?” Regulus petulantly interjects. Sirius ignores his request. "... pretty please?" (Sirius still doesn't respond, except now he feels slightly bad about it).
“Flying at night is dangerous,” Remus chips in, ever the reasonable Marauder. Plucking Sirius’s wand out of his hand, he slips it right back into its holster. "Be good, Siri."
"Fine, since you asked so nicely," Sirius huffs, making a concerted effort to appear unaffected by the words whispered in his ear; given Remus's self-satisfied grin, he did not succeed.
“Hear that, Regulus?” Crouch grins at his friend. “Flying at night is dangerous.”
Regulus side-eyes James. “Maybe if you’re half-blind.”
“Oi! Your brother is bullying me, Siri."
"You'll live, it builds character." Sirius suddenly notices how green a certain little snake looks. “Alright, Pumpkin Shortcake?”
“I despise you,” Evan grunts, his pained expression smoothing out as everyone turns their attention to him.
What could have…
His eyes land on the picnic basket.
Oh.
“Forgot you were lactose intolerant, did you?”
Behind the shorter Slytherin, Crouch mouths, ‘Forgot’, complete with air quotes.
“I am NOT -”
“He’s not lactose intolerant,” Regulus says, sidling up next to Sirius with a look of pure innocence that doesn’t fool anyone. “He gets stomach pains when he’s stressed or overeats. It’s worse when both things occur at the same time. Doesn’t matter what the food is, but everyone thinks it’s dairy because that’s Evan’s favorite food group.”
Sirius is tempted to call bollocks, but there’s a familiar silver gleam in his brother’s eye, so he knows it’s the truth, thank the fates - wretched as they are - Reggie's powers include such a helpful quirk! He can’t help but wonder what else could be learned if he asked Regulus the right questions…
Operating under the (false) belief that his older sibling is suitably distracted, Regulus attempts to snatch his broom back.
“I said not right now, Regulus!” Sirius scolds, lifting it above his head. For good measure, he flings a mild Stinging Hex at his brother. Wandless, of course, because he's awesome like that. "I have something important to say, and you need to listen."
Clutching his smarting hand to his chest, the Slytherin growls, “Get on with it then, brother! Your endless yapping is draining my patience, and we are wasting perfectly good daylight!”
“Excuse me?" Ever-so-slightly, his brother flinches, but he stubbornly holds Sirius's gaze. "You better watch your attitude, little star! Unless you wanna watch as I light this pile of twigs on fire?” He would never, NEVER do that, of course. Not only did he pay a fortune for the sodding thing, but it would be, without exaggeration, seen as a war crime in Regulus’s eyes. “Ooh, we can make smores with the pieces!”
Regulus’s face goes ashen, and he sends his paramour a distressed look.
“Let’s not make any rash decisions now,” James says good-naturedly, staring pointedly at Remus. With a sigh, Moony carefully takes the broom out of Sirius's hands, promising to ‘keep it safe’. But trust issues run deep… he only relaxes after Remus shakes his head when Regulus pouts at him. “Seems like a horrible ending to such a lovely day, don’t you think?”
“Oh yes, the worst of the worst!” the youngest Black readily agrees, nodding rapidly. “And as I understand it, fratricide is terribly frowned upon.”
“Murder in general is terribly frowned upon,” the Gryffindor Chaser corrects matter-of-factly.
As if sharing one mind, the trio of Slytherins drawl, “Well…”
James puffs up. “No! Murder is BAD, always, and you will not convince me otherwise!!”
“Okay, but what if -”
Without preamble, Sirius loudly announces, “I came out to the school.”
“... as in?”
“What do you think I mean, Reggie?”
Regulus glowers. “We are working on our communication, are we not? Why is it only a crime when I want clarification?” He turns to James. “Do you see the hypocrisy I face, day in and day out, when dealing with my brother? It’s ridiculous, is it not?”
“Erm… no comment… ouch!” Sirius smirks at James’s offended expression. “Why am I the one who gets hit with the Stinging Hex?! I didn’t say anything!”
Crouch makes a noncommittal noise. “You’d prefer Regulus get struck instead? You wouldn’t spare him this one inconvenience?”
“I didn’t say that either!” James hastily backtracks.
“Sure sounded like it,” Evan notes, arms crossed over his chest.
“And here I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be chivalrous,” Regulus sniffs. "Clearly, that's nothing but propaganda."
“It’s the principle -”
“ANYWHO!” Sirius waits until everyone's attention returns to him. “To answer Regulus’s question… yes, I told everyone in the Great Hall that I was gay, and always have been. Thus, I am not a skirt chaser, or any of those other super mean terms people associate with me.” All five of them gape at him, lips parted, eyes wide as saucers, the whole nine. It’s rather empowering. “So, naturally, I then said Remus and I are dating.” He resolutely refuses to look at his boyfriend. “... and if I catch anyone flirting with my man, they’d have to deal with me.”
Weak, always so weak, Sirius peeks at his new boyfriend, who uh… doesn’t look all that pleased. Remus doesn’t look mad, but there’s definitely a non-positive expression on his gorgeous face, one that makes Sirius worry he might have gravely miscalculated somewhere along the way.
Removing the leather Quidditch crate from his pocket, he returns it to its normal size. “Who’s ready for a pick-up game?”
Still, no one says a word.
Fuck, he needs to borrow a Time Turner, pronto.
Regulus is the first to find his tongue. “You did all of that in what, ten minutes? How?! It’s a ten minute walk back to the castle... one way!”
That is a great fucking question, Sirius huffs in his head. Wish I had an answer other than ‘Death Magic’... although, maybe I can just… no, no, let’s not give Regulus any ideas.
The best lies involve partial truths, isn’t that what Grandfather always said?
“Regulus.” Sirius stares at his brother, who gazes back unblinkingly. “Little star… you walk really slow.”
His brother’s mouth drops open. Next to him, Crouch nods solemnly, while Evan pretends to examine his broom for loose twigs.
“I do NOT -”
“Mmm, you do,” Sirius interrupts his sibling. “Unless you think you’re going to be late, or you already are, then you move at a decent pace.”
“I walk with purpose -”
“If you don’t believe me, ask our cousins. They all agree you’re pokey.”
“I will not stand for this vile slander, it is an outrageous fabrication -”
“I have another confession to make.”
“Ooh, oooh lemme guess!” Crouch raises his hand in the air. “The Sorting Hat wanted to put you in Slytherin, but you said no?”
“Is that even possible?” James asks skeptically.
“Yes, it always takes a student’s opinion into consideration.” A sudden spike of anxiety flows through the bond Sirius shares with his brother. “Or so I’ve read. Who knows if that’s true, though? Heh…”
Curious, very curious…
Something to investigate later, for sure.
Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Crouch’s hand shoots into the air again. “You’ve murdered someone, haven’t you?”
“To my knowledge, no, not yet… also, shame on all of you, why are you looking at me like you expected me to say yes?!”
“Gee, I wonder why, Mr. ‘Not Yet’?” Remus scoffs.
Regulus shrugs. “You never know in our family. After all, it was a rite of passage into adulthood for centuries -”
“What?!” James cries, looking between the two brothers.
“When I take over, maybe I’ll bring that back,” Sirius muses aloud. What a good way to rid themselves of some enemies!
“Friendly reminder, Brothers Black! Murder is illegal, even if you don’t get caught... stop booing me, you two are the worst! Remus, tell them they’re the worst!”
Remus sighs. “You’re too easy to wind up, Prongs. He’s teasing you.”
“Uh no, he’s being serious -”
“Always am!” Sirius chirps, right as Regulus says, “He always is.”
“Fucking hell, is this my life now?”
“Third time's the charm!” Crouch blurts his question out before Sirius can tell him to piss off. “You had an imaginary friend growing up, yeah?”
If he thought they were interested in hearing his answer before, it’s nothing compared to how they look now…
“Great question. Anywho, moving on -”
“So you did?” the sandy-haired Slytherin interjects. “Have an imaginary friend, I mean?”
“It sounds like a confirmation to me,” James eagerly agrees. “I knew it, I knew it!”
Rolling his eyes, Remus argues, “Funny, because to me, it sounds like he’s neither confirming nor denying having one, and you two are jumping to conclusions.”
“I was right, and you were wrong,” the Chaser counters, sticking his tongue out. “Just admit it, Rem! I knew, and you knew not.”
“You don’t know shite, Potter, he didn’t tell you a damn thing!” the youngest Black snaps, his nostrils flaring. Sirius blinks several times, taken aback by the hostility in his brother’s tone. “And anyways, why are you so insistent on Sirius having an imaginary friend to begin with, huh?”
Wait, what? This is actually a thing?
“I’m not insistent -”
“Is it because you're ashamed of having one yourself, perhaps? Are you desperately searching for validation for your own imaginary friend?”
“Ooooh,” Evan and Crouch taunt in tandem.
“No judgment, of course,” Regulus says neutrally. “Just trying to figure out where your obsession stems from.”
James’s eyes flash behind his glasses. “Pardon, but it was YOUR friend who asked the question in the first place! What the hell, Regulus?!”
Yes… what the hell Regulus? Sirius thinks to himself. Why are you getting so worked up over a silly, nonsensical issue?
The swirl of emotions flowing down their bond is so jumbled, he can’t make heads or tails of what’s going on with his brother right now.
“Barty only brought it up because you made such a stink about it earlier!”
Exchanging a quick look with Evan, Crouch nods. “Yep, very true.”
“I did NOT make a stink -”
“Yes you did!” Regulus screeches, a crimson flush crawling up his neck, bad sign, bad sign! Sirius has always been too curious for his own good though, so he doesn’t move to intervene. “You’re bloody obsessed -”
“YOU JOKED ABOUT IT, TOO!” James roars, looming over Regulus despite being almost the same height. The youngest Black clenches his jaw, but otherwise doesn’t move a muscle. “YOU EVEN GAVE US A NAME FOR HIS IMAGINARY FRIEND… THANSEL, OR WHATEVER -”
“Thanatos,” Remus corrects with a long-suffering sigh.
How does that Muggle saying go? Curiosity killed the cat?... Sirius understands it a bit more now. He’s grateful they’re too absorbed in screaming at each other to pay him any attention, because fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK.
“YEAH, WHAT REMUS SAID!”
“IT ISN’T A JOKE TO YOU THOUGH, IS IT? YOU THINK MY BROTHER ACTUALLY HAS AN IMAGINARY FRIEND, YOU THINK HE’S SEEING AND HEARING THINGS, THAT HE’S MAD -”
“HAVING AN IMAGINARY FRIEND DOESN’T MAKE YOU CRAZY, REGULUS -”
“YOU THINK SIRIUS IS SOME SORT OF… SOME SORT OF FREAK, DON’T YOU, POTTER?!”
“Let’s not bring out the ‘f’ word now,” Sirius half-heartedly chastises.
They ignore him.
“I NEVER SAID ANYTHING OF THE SORT, SO STOP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH!”
“I’M SORRY, POTTER, BUT UNLIKE YOUR HOARD OF ADMIRERS,” Regulus pokes James in the chest, “I KNOW HOW TO READ BETWEEN THE LINES!”
“I DO NOT HAVE ADMIRERS, LET ALONE HOARDS OF THEM!!” He bats the Slytherin’s hand away, using significantly less force with Regulus than he does with Sirius, fucking favoritism. “WE TALKED ABOUT THIS!”
“You kinda do,” Remus softly cuts in. He shrugs at James’s murderous glare. “Sorry.”
Peering disinterestedly down at his nails, Regulus hums, “Told you so.”
“You wanna talk about crazy, Baby Black?” James sneers.
“Nooo, bad idea!” Sirius quickly interjects.
He’s ignored. Again.
“Because it's YOU who is acting crazy, Regulus." Evan, Crouch, and Sirius gasp, but James doesn’t falter. “NOT ME, NOT YOUR BROTHER, BUT YOU!”
Oh Godric, those are fighting words.
And by ‘fighting words’, he means ‘the speaker of said words is begging to be murdered in cold blood’.
You never call a Black crazy. Ever. Not unless you’re tired of walking amongst the living.
Regulus’s lips curl into a mocking smile. “Crazy, am I? Is that so?”
“Acting crazy,” James stresses, like it makes a difference. It does not; semantics carry little weight when the ‘C’ word comes out.
Sirius wrings his hands together, torn over what to do. He should probably intervene, but he needs confirmation; does Regulus consciously know more about those matters?
And maybe... maybe they’ll all be better off if this implodes before it can really begin, yeah? James Potter and Regulus Black...
That’s crazy, innit it?
“MAYBE I AM CRAZY, POTTER, BUT AT LEAST I’M HONEST!! TELL THE TRUTH… YOU THINK THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH SIRIUS, DON’T YOU? YOU THINK HE’S A FREAK -”
“SURE, BABY BLACK, I THINK THE MOST POPULAR BLOKE AT HOGWARTS, THE SAME BLOKE WHO ALSO HAPPENS TO BE MY BEST MATE, IS A FREAK. YEAH, THAT MAKES TOTAL SENSE -”
Regulus whips his wand out.
“HOW DARE YOU, HOW DARE YOU SPEAK SUCH LIES ABOUT MY BROTHER, JAMES POTTER, YOU’RE GOING TO REGRET -”
James, the fucking dumb arse that he is, steps closer, until the younger’s wand is pressed directly into his chest. “Do it,” he purrs, staring the Slytherin dead in the eye. Challenging. Suicidal. “Come on, Regulus, I dare you.”
“Oi, are you going to do something?!” Evan hisses at Sirius, who is much too busy internally panicking to be of any use. “Alright, I’m gonna take that as a ‘no’... bloody hell, you’re the worst.”
Sneaking up on Regulus from behind, Crouch pins his arms to his side. For good measure, he also drags the seething boy a few paces back. Meanwhile, Evan angles his body in such a way, it blocks Regulus from having a clear shot at James.
“Alright, vicious kitty, let’s calm it down a notch, yeah?” Unfazed by Regulus's bared teeth, Crouch tucks a loose curl behind his ear. “Literally no one called your big brother a freak. Especially not Potter, his brother-from-another-mother… and father.”
“Actually -”
“I KNOW you’re proficient in sarcasm, Regulus.”
“It was implied, multiple times!”
James places a hand on Sirius's shoulder. “If I implied you were a freak, Sirius, or any similar term, I apologize. I have never once thought that about you. Because you’re not.”
Because he doesn’t know you, not the real you, Sirius’s annoying brain whispers.
“You’re SUCH a liar -”
“You think so, Baby Black?”
“STOP CALLING ME THAT, POTTER! We are the same goddamned height -”
“Ah, but you’re younger, thinner, less muscular -”
Standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his childhood best friend, Evan looks like someone preparing for war. “Tread carefully, Potter.”
“More prone to hysterics -”
“HYSTERICS?! I’LL SHOW YOU HYSTERICS!”
Sirius's mouth moves without conscious thought. “I HAD AN IMAGINARY FRIEND, ALRIGHT?!”
What’s one more lie to add to the heaping pile? Especially since it made them finally, finally shut up.
James smirks triumphantly at Regulus, but his expression quickly falls away to concern.
Because Regulus looks seconds away from bursting into tears. “You d-did?” he whispers, bottom lip quivering, and oh fuck, Sirius has really done it now! “I didn’t know… do you… do you still?"
Mind whirling to come up with a viable story, he slowly says, “It started when we were younger, much younger. You were still too tiny to be much fun. And then, well -”
“I was sick all the time.”
Sirius winces, but guilt aside, the imaginary tale spills easily from his lips. And why shouldn’t it? He’s a professional, after all.
“I’d get lonely, ya know? But I never thought to hide it, which was stupid of me, really. Mother made me feel bad about it all, said it was unbecoming of a Black to find companionship in the pretend.” His friends' pitying expressions make his insides burn with shame. At least there's no way in hell anyone will try to verify his story with Mother. “So I hid it -”
“Him,” Regulus corrects, his heavy gaze boring into Sirius. “You hid him. Thanatos. Your imaginary friend, who just so happens to be named after the Muggle personification of Death, the disgustingly attractive bloke who has difficulty making friends and struggles to maintain a healthy work/life balance. That one.”
Fuck. FUCK. FUCK.
"Sheesh, what a backstory!" Crouch shakes his head. "My imaginary friend hated politicians, I feel so boring now... or should I say, unimaginative?" He grunts when Evan jabs an elbow into his stomach. "That was hilarious, come on! Neither of you appreciate my wit."
First thing’s first… Sirius should have known that tidbit in the Hospital Wing would bite him in the arse.
Alright. Deep breath.
He can do this, he can fix it.
He has to fix it.
“Uncle Gio used to tell me bedtime stories about Muggle Mythology, secretly of course. I thought if I… if I befriended Death himself, if the three of us were all friends, he’d leave us alone.” Sirius laughs wetly. “I dunno, Reg, maybe I am crazy, but it kind of seemed like it worked, yeah? He visits, sure, but he leaves empty handed.”
His little star stares at him for so long, Sirius nearly admits the truth, the whole ugly truth - how there’s nothing ‘imaginary’ about it. Would anyone believe him, though? Doubtful. They'd probably ship him off to St Mungo's faster than he could say 'just joshing, mate'.
But then Regulus sighs, so softly, it’s almost imperceptible. “You would, wouldn’t you?”
With a faked air of nonchalance, Sirius shrugs. “Sorry I’m creative.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?” Evan scoffs.
"What else would it be called?"
"Well..."
Swept into a war of words with his brother's best mate, all the while, Sirius keeps an ear on his brother's conversation with his best mate... and yes, knowing Evan is doing the same thing makes him feel marginally better about eavesdropping.
Catching Regulus's eye, James blurts, “I'm sorry!"
"Whatever for?" the Slytherin inquires. His tone isn't all that friendly, but Sirius doesn't need their blood magic bond to know why; he's horrendously embarrassed over his behavior.
"For saying you were acting crazy. And just being a berk in general." James lowers his voice... coincidentally, there's a lull in Sirius and Evan's conversation at that exact moment. "I know better than to use the 'C' word."
“To be fair, I was acting crazy.”
"No, you weren't!"
"Potter."
“Let's agree to disagree on that, but either way, I shouldn't have said it.”
Regulus’s brows furrow. “Why not? If I was behaving in such a manner, why shouldn’t the proper term be put to it?”
James hesitates, clearly uncomfortable. “It's not... it's not polite.”
“But at this point in our... association... we've passed the point of political correctness and impersonal formalities.” Regulus's voice becomes smaller. Unsure. “Haven’t we?”
“We have! Of course, we have. However, calling you crazy is dismissive and invalidating of your feelings." Sirius stifles a laugh when Evan nods sagely at James's words. "That’s never okay to do to someone, right? You taught me that."
“Oh. I see.”
"So, for that, I'm sorry.”
Regulus starts stammering out his own apology, but fucking Barty Crouch Jr refuses to let Sirius and Evan listen any longer.
“Okay, last question, I promise… how ‘disgustingly attractive’ is your imaginary friend?” There’s a glint in Crouch’s eye that has Sirius tensing. “Like on a scale of 1 to Pierre Legrand?”
Oh, hell no.
Notes:
You might have noticed this story is now part of a series. It was always meant to be two parts, but there will be some one-shots sprinkled in between the two main stories. I probably won't post the first one until after this fic finishes, but you can subscribe to it in the meantime if you want :)
Chapter 37: Contentious Debriefings Part II
Notes:
This chapter is dedicated to those of us who have big emotions and/or a tendency to overreact. I see you, and you are not alone!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“Now, darling, what were you actually planning to say?” Remus hurriedly asks when Sirius takes a breath, having just finished an impromptu, passionate explanation of how Crouch’s ‘disgustingly attractive’ scale needs extensive recalibration to be of any use. A total overhaul, if they’re being honest. “Or can Regulus have his broom back?”
That is a great fucking question! (no surprise, though - his Moony always asks the best questions.)
Before everyone banded together to derail Sirius from his train of thought, there was something else to mention, was there not?…
Oh yes, he remembers now!
“He cannot.” Sirius looks everywhere BUT at his brother, having seen Regulus’s pleading doe eyes in his peripheral vision, I need to ask Death who the fuck Reggie inherited those vicious things from. Then, every year, I will throw a feast on that person’s Death Day. “Apologies in advance, but I think it's best to let you know…” Inhaling deeply, he lets the air out of his lungs in one big whoosh. “I really don’t like Quidditch all that much.”
Damn... even Remus gasps at that.
“As such, I -”
“Oh my god!” James groans, shaking his head. “No, no, no, no, no! What? Please, someone, anyone, tell me I did not just hear what I think I heard!”
Looking first to Remus, he finds their fellow Marauder sporting his patented, ‘Since we both value this friendship, please don’t make me answer that’ expression. Next, James turns to the youngest Black, but solace is not to be found there either - frozen in place, Regulus’s empty eyes haven’t blinked once since Sirius delivered the intro to his final confession. There’s also zero reaction whatsoever when James snaps his fingers in front of his face. After a moment of indecision, James then makes the fatal mistake of thinking Evan Rosier would be less of an asshat than Barty Crouch Jr (in James's defense, it was a losing choice all around).
Grinning like Christmas came early, Evan gleefully replies, “You heard correctly, Potter! Sirius, your best mate, just said he doesn’t like Quidditch.” Every trace of his previous discomfort is gone, like James’s ‘pain’ alleviated his own. “How does that make you feel, I wonder?”
“BAD, ROSIER, IT MAKES ME FEEL BAD!”
Rushing to defend himself, Sirius elaborates, “Okay, but!… practicing multiple times a week, nearly year-round, just to play three or four matches a year? It’s so dumb! A colossal waste of time, some might say.” Jolting out of his daze, Regulus stares at Sirius like he just said he enjoys throwing kittens out of windows in his spare time. “And it bores me. I don’t want to be bored anymore, surely you understand?”
Evidently, they do not understand.
“YOU’RE GOING TO QUIT?!” James screeches so loudly, a dozen owls in the trees surrounding the pitch launch themselves into the air, hooting indignantly. “THE QUIDDITCH TEAM, YOU’RE QUITTING… SIRIUS, HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME -”
Sirius hits his best mate with a wandless, nonverbal Silencio. “Don’t be daft, Jamie. Like you’d ever let me quit? Trust me, I KNOW better.” The unspoken, ‘I would, if I could get away with it,’ hangs in the air between them.
“This is the worst day of my life.” Closing his eyes, Regulus rests his head against James’s, their previous drama long forgotten in the aftermath of Sirius’s sacrilege. “Which says a lot, given what’s happened as of late. I feel -”
“Tell us how you feel, love,” Crouch coos when the youngest Black trails off, his kind words marred by his absolutely diabolical grin… the one Regulus can’t see, of course.
“I feel…” Regulus lets out a sound of utter despair. “I feel bad!”
Evan snorts. “Wow, Potter’s eloquence, or lack thereof, has rubbed off on you, huh?”
“I bet that’s not the only thing -”
“There’s sooo many better ways to spend our time!” Sirius interrupts, before he can be mentally scarred for life - he inherited/experienced enough trauma Growing-Up-Black. He does NOT need Barty Crouch Jr adding to it. “You can at least agree with me that it’s stupid to have that many practices for so few matches!”
“I’ve been saying that since first year,” Crouch shrugs, ignoring Regulus’s betrayed huff. Evan doesn’t move a muscle, but by that alone, Sirius knows he agrees too.
“Please tell me I’m hallucinating,” the Gryffindor Chaser bemoans, shaking off Sirius’s Silencing Spell. “The soup was poisonous. Or there’s Dementors roaming around. I think a piece of my soul just died.”
The Slytherin Seeker isn’t faring much better… how have I never realized how bloody ANNOYING jocks are until now?!
“A living nightmare, that’s what this is!” Raising his head, Regulus’s eyes shine with unbridled hope... hope that Sirius now has to crush. “Wait, wait, wait! Is this a prank? This is a prank, isn’t it? Tell me it’s a prank, Sirius.”
“Mate, I’ve gotta say, your sense of humor has taken a nosedive these last few weeks. You could have done so many better things -”
“Not a prank!”
“James Potter, I will give you the benefit of the doubt just this once and assume you did not mean to insinuate that spending a majority of his time with me is the reason behind Sirius’s perceived drop in humor.” It’s embarrassing how earnest James is, as he rushes to confirm that Regulus is indeed correct, and he did not mean to imply anything of the sort. “But Sirius, I don’t understand. You always enjoyed the matches we went to growing up.” His gaze becomes wary. “Or at least I thought you did.”
“Reggie.” Placing a hand on his hip, Sirius gazes steadily at his brother, trying to wordlessly convey the truth. It doesn’t work, sigh. “Of course, I enjoyed them! I am G-A-Y.”
Regulus’s frustrated growl is eerily similar to the sound Remus makes when he’s fed up with Sirius and/or James… the two Gryffindors share a glance that roughly translates to, ‘What the fuck, how is that even possible?! “Congrats, so am I ! But I don’t watch OR play Quidditch because of the athletic men… they’re merely a bonus.”
… okay, that’s a fair point. Not that Sirius will admit it.
“Eh, if the matches are under an hour, they’re usually alright. But it’s more about the experience, ya know? Plus, you like going to them, so that makes it fun for me.”
“But playing -”
“I’m staying on the team,” Sirius reminds everyone, James and Regulus especially. “Because I like hitting things at people and not getting in trouble for it.”
Remus grins. “You’re an excellent shot, and you look great doing it, darling.”
“Thank you, Moonbeam! However, I’m letting you know first, Jamie, but I’ll be missing at least one practice every week -”
James’s head jerks up. “Why?!” He glares at Remus. “What else are you planning to do? I can assure you, the Comic Book club I was going to start will NEVER interfere with Gryffindor… or Slytherin Quidditch.”
Fuck, I forgot about that… oh well, a problem for later.
“Yeah, good luck, pal,” Crouch scoffs. “Do you know how many times a week the Slytherin team practices?”
“No,” Sirius answers, right as James says, “Three evenings a week on average, though up to five depending on -”
The trio of snakes stare menacingly at the Gryffindor Chaser, the Slytherin Seeker’s expression the angriest of them all.
Whelp, it’s Sirius’s sworn duty to help his best mate when he jams his foot in his mouth…
“To answer your question as to what I’ll be doing, I joined the Gobstones team!” Sirius claps for himself, since no one else does. “And Minnie agreed to sponsor us. You would have been so proud of me, little snakes, I was very persuasive!”
A weight is lifted off his shoulders at the confession. Who knew the truth could be so freeing?
“I love gobstones,” Remus says, squeezing his hand. “I didn’t know you did, though? How come we never play?”
Lifting his shoulder in a half-shrug, Sirius doesn’t meet his eyes, because so far, I’ve spent all of our Hogwarts years caring too much about what other people think of me.
“Ooh, one weekend, we could do a small tournament type thing, invite the girls, your brother and mates from Slytherin, your new Gobstones teammates. Low stakes, of course. But that’d be fun, don’t you think?”
“Low stakes? Ha!” Throwing his head back, Regulus cackles loudly. “That’s a good one, Remus! Low stakes, bloody hell, as if.” Noticing the Gryffindor’s confusion, the youngest Black’s expression becomes sympathetic. “You poor, sweet, innocent, naïve bloke. You have no idea, do you?”
“I guess not?” Remus gives both brothers a funny look… which, uhhh, rude! Sirius didn’t do anything, nor was he the one who dropped Reggie on his head as a baby… probably. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“Let me explain what every Black has the misfortune of knowing, all from firsthand experience. Your boyfriend, Sirius Orion Black the third, is disgustingly competitive. To an unnatural degree, even within our family. Low stakes is a misnomer, because in his head, every competition ranks just below life or death. He is, however, self-aware. Since Sirius wants you and your lot to like him, he keeps that part of himself hidden.” Along with a lot of other parts. “Would you agree you’re the type of bloke who values peace and harmony? You seem like the sort... though if so, it does make me wonder why you’d want to date Siri of all people.”
“Because he’s a bloody fit bloke.” Crouch winks at Sirius. “Right, Ev?”
“Fittest person in the school, no doubt.” Evan stares unblinkingly at the taller Slytherin, who falters under his friend’s agreement.
“Don’t do DARE say ‘ew’, little star, you look like a knock-off version of me!”
"I didn't say -"
"I can see it in your face!"
"Oh, so my face told you -"
“I do value peace and harmony,” Remus interjects. “And I'm not dating Sirius because he’s beautiful, which he is, but because he is an intelligent, fun, and wonderful person, who I enjoy spending time with.” Wow, Sirius does not appreciate Reg and Evan’s ‘He doesn’t know you at all, does he?’ looks. “What of it?”
“I say this with full sincerity… you should be EXCEPTIONALLY grateful Sirius doesn’t show you that competitive side, at least not to its full extent. I wish I could be so lucky.”
“Should I?” Remus asks, nose scrunched up. “Truthfully, this all sounds like brotherly bias.”
“It’s not,” Sirius and Evan say at the same time.
“Look, I’m rooting for you, Remus Lupin.” Aww, that makes Sirius so happy to hear! “You two deserve each other.” Uhh, hmm… he isn’t sure how he feels about that statement. “So, I’m going to give you some free advice. Do NOT ruin your relationship by playing games. Losing is not an option in Sirius Black’s world, and no matter how clever you are about it, he’ll know if you throw the game. Please, I beg you, spare yourself… and me… the drama. Find a different, non-competitive activity to bond over.”
Sirius bows his head. “My brother is wise beyond his years, methinks.”
“It does make sense,” Remus agrees neutrally. “Thank you, Regulus.”
“Can we back up for a second? Hogwarts has a Gobstones team?” Crouch asks incredulously. “Uh, since when?”
“Probably for centuries, and it’s considered social suicide to join it.” Evan stares at Sirius like he turned into a three-headed dog. “However, the people I know of who are on the team… let’s just say, I’m not sure they had much of a social life to kill, even prior to joining.”
Feeling defensive of a group of people he’s known for an half-hour at most, Sirius growls, “Pardon, but I happen to like my new teammates, so fuck what the schools thinks! And Heather is a fan of Regulus, so she has taste. Clearly.”
“Heather Gleason, the Hufflepuff?” The Gryffindor-Black nods. “Really? I thought she hated me.” Regulus rubs a hand over his face. “Hates, actually, as in present-tense.”
Sirius, Evan, and Crouch exchange exasperated glances.
Crossing his arms over his chest, James snidely asks, “As your best mate, isn’t it odd that I had NO idea you were a fan of Gobstones? Is there any particular reason why I do not know this basic fact about you?” Suspicion drips from every word, like this is all one giant conspiracy. To what end, Sirius knows not. “It also begs the question… what else do I not know about you, Sirius?”
A whole fucking lot.
“He’s always liked Gobstones, ever since Uncle Gio introduced it to us when we were really little,” Regulus answers for him. “I was sick all the time, so it was supposed to be a way we could calmly occupy ourselves indoors.”
Evan smirks. “How does that Muggle saying go, the one that Pandora likes?”
Crouch is quick to supply the answer. "The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
“See, Reggie? Even Pandora the Wise agrees the blame rests on Uncle Gio. It is not my fault.”
“We’re banned from playing games at home for a reason,” Regulus reminds James. “Gobstones heavily factored into that. It’s been a sore spot for ages now.”
“Understatement of the century,” Evan mutters under his breath.
“We should play when we get back to -”
“NO!” his brother and surrogate-brother cry at the same time.
“I could head back up to the castle -”
“Literally, Remus, what did I JUST say?!” Without waiting for a response, Regulus’s pleading gaze lands on Sirius. “So, uh… per Father’s directions, I must ask that you don’t bring our family any undue shame -”
“Aww, Reggie -”
“No temper tantrums, please, for the love of all things holy, play nicely with the other children -”
“PARDON!” James shrieks, his cheeks stained an unflattering rouge. “I feel like we’re glossing over a major shift in the foundations of our life here! How is Gobstones more appealing than Quidditch? Is this some quarter-life crisis? Should we be checking for an imposter? Are you the real Sirius Black? Because my best mate, Sirius Black, wouldn’t pick something lame like Gobstones over Quidditch!”
Oh.
“James -”
“Respectfully, Remus, I don’t want to hear you make excuses for him, like you always do. I deserve an answer from Sirius himself.”
“If you ask my opinion, Potter -”
“I did not ask your opinion, Rosier, because I don’t care what you have to say!”
Evan’s lip curls. “Too bad, you’re getting it. To everyone with functioning eyes, it's obvious you do NOT know Sirius as well as you think you do. That could be for a few different reasons, but I’d wager he decided to hide parts of himself from you because you’re an overdramatic, obsessive wanker who needs to get his own life and stop being so controlling of everyone around him! Sirius does NOT belong to you, Potter, so how about you calm the fuck down, and worry about yourself?”
Well, damn.
Sirius is slightly surprised Evan is so willing to defend him (and in such a scarily accurate way too). His blood brother, on the other hand, stares at the grass like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen in his life, exactly like a bloke who has no intention of getting involved would.
“Thank you for that unnecessary speech, Rosier. Remind me again... who invited you?”
Evan would hex him for outwardly expressing his gratitude, so Sirius pays him back in a Snaky-Approved way.
“I invited him, James, so I expect you to speak to my surrogate brother with the same respect you would show Remus and me, please and thank you.”
“Where was the respect when you went behind my back -”
“Mate, come on! I promise you, it is NOT that serious.” Crouch snickers to himself. “Heh… get it?”
“Piss off, Crouch, this has nothing to do with you!”
“James,” Remus chides with disapproving glare, looking like a displeased mum. It’s really cute, and super distracting.
“I invited ole’ Bartholomew too, in case you forgot!”
Catching Evan’s homicidal expression, Crouch smacks a hand over his friend’s mouth. “Alright, alright, not in the mood for jokes I see. No worries, mate, I’m used to people not appreciating my sharp intellect.”
Evan makes a series of noises that Sirius translates to, ‘What intellect?’
“Reg, hon, are you sure you wanna get involved with Gryffindors? They’re so…” Removing the hand from Evan’s mouth (who has now directed his murdery expression to his fellow Slytherin), he curls his fingers into claws. “Mrow.”
Regulus shrugs. “Lived with one all my life, have I not? I think I’m desensitized to it.”
James redirects his scowl to Sirius. “You’ve got nothing to say, Sirius? Nothing at all?” He snorts resentfully. “I should have fucking figured. You always go quiet or disappear whenever someone calls you out on your bollocks.”
You knew this wasn’t going to go over well, his inner voice hisses.
I didn’t think James would be the problem.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I had to consult you before making a choice that has ZERO impact to you -”
“It DOES impact me -”
“Puh-lease, no it does not! I promise you, even missing one practice a week, I will still be in tip-top shape for our FOUR matches this season.” Sirius’s voice remains steady, even as he struggles to hold back his tears; if his best mate doesn’t accept him, what does that mean for everyone else? “I’m through with doing what other people want me to do, James! I want to live my life for me.”
“It would have been nice to know how fucking miserable you were with me all these years! Actually, you know what… why stop at one practice? Why not just quit entirely? CLEARLY, you don’t give a damn about my feelings anymore!”
“IF YOU’RE GOING TO BE SUCH A PRICK ABOUT EVERYTHING, MAYBE I WILL QUIT!”
(Minnie isn’t going to let him quit, it was part of their deal. But James doesn’t need to know that.)
A pale hand rises into the air.
“Ahem!” When the two quarreling Gryffindors turn to stare questioningly at him, Regulus stands up straighter. “This is not confirmation of Potter’s last statement, so DO NOT take it as such. But umm… can you give a damn about my feelings, Siri? Please?” Gray eyes widen just a little bit, and then a bottom lip juts out just a little bit more. “There are only three Gryffindor versus Slytherin matches remaining before you graduate. Outside of Hogwarts, we’ll never get any opportunity like this again. Competing against each other in front of hundreds of people, showing-off how vastly superior we are… as brothers. Please, Siri, will you do this one thing for me? Stay on the team.”
The overwhelming sweetness of his baby brother is going to kill him one day, Sirius is sure of it! Right as he’s out to say something embarrassingly mushy, he processes the emotions flowing down their bond. The word for it eludes him, but Sirius knows when he feels it - when he’s looking for payback, when someone has one-upped him, and he’s mentally envisioning their demise by his own hand.
What the fuck did he do to Reggie, to make him feel…
Oh.
Oh.
“Don’t be coy, I know why you want me to stay on the team.” Smushing his brother’s cheeks, Sirius coos, “Little Reggie wants a chance to get revenge, doesn’t he? Because Big Brother Siri is the reason Reggie's team lost last year, huh?”
It takes him a second too long to decipher the maniacal glint in his brother’s eyes.
“There’s no ‘chance’,” Regulus says with a menacing, slightly-unhinged grin. He digs his fingernails deeper into Sirius’s arms.
“Ow, ow, owww, Reggie, what the fuck!”
“I will have my revenge, no ifs, ands, or buts about it!”
“That’s the spirit, handsome!” Crouch cheers.
“STOP ENCOURAGING HIM… Reg, let go!”
“Don’t let go, Reg!"
Guess who Regulus listens to?
Not Sirius, that’s for sure!
“Since you are a good big brother, Siri, you will not deny me my rightful revenge by quitting the team. Not even to spite Potter -”
“Oh my fucking god, I’m sorry you lost the match and are still sad about it, okay? You played a good game, but your team sucked arse. I felt for you. And you won the Cup in the end… please let go!!”
“You will be a Beater on the Gryffindor team until you graduate or die, whichever comes first. That also means, you will NOT do anything to jeopardize your position. Do I make myself clear, big brother?”
“Reggie!” Sirius whines, bouncing in place. He wouldn’t be surprised if Regulus’s claws were touching his bones at this point! He’s too terrified… and squeamish… to look. “Let go, please please please! I don’t want to hurt you, but you know what happens when my magic goes wild.”
“Pfft, how preposterous! Your Accidental Magic won’t hurt me… your magic only hurts me when you consciously want it to.” Based on past experiences, Regulus might actually have a point, damn. “And I’ll let go when you answer the question. I SAID, do I make myself clear, big brother?”
“Crystal!”
“Swear on it!”
“Regulus Arcturus, I will set your broom on fire if you do not let go!”
“SIRIUS ORION, I WILL SET YOU ON FIRE IF YOU DO NOT SWEAR ON IT!.. okay, stop looking at me like that, I’m not actually going to set you on fire. But SWEAR ON IT, SIRIUS, or I will be very, very sad!”
“Just do it, Sirius,” Remus says with a sigh, like Sirius is being overdramatic. News flash, he is not (for once), though Regulus sure is!
“FINE!... I, SIRIUS ORION BLACK THE THIRD, HEREBY SWEAR TO STAY ON THE GRYFFINDOR QUIDDITCH TEAM UNTIL I GRADUATE OR DIE, WHICHEVER COMES FIRST. ADDITIONALLY, I WILL NOT DO ANYTHING TO JEOPARDIZE MY POSITION ON THE STARTING LINEUP!” Regulus extends his pinkie, while the claws on his left hand sink further into Sirius’s arm. “Do you want a fucking blood oath too while we’re at it, little star?!”
“Yes!” Crouch says brightly. “Make him bleed, Reg. He’s a lion.”
“Nope, none of that,” Remus interjects when Regulus tilts his head in consideration. “The pinky promise is a sacred vow within the brotherhood. No need to bring blood into it.”
Bit too late for that, Sirius laughs hysterically to himself.
Sucking in a huge breath when his arm is finally freed, Sirius is surprised to find the skin unbroken. Indented, sure, but there’s no blood, no way he isn’t using wandless magic, I refuse to believe it. “Cut your fucking nails when we get back to the dorm!”
Regulus takes a threatening step closer, hands claws extended. Refusing to be intimidated, Sirius roughly shoves his brother in the chest. Was that nice of him? No. But James is standing right behind Reggie, so… oh fuck. Remembering James is pissed at him too, Sirius hastily ducks behind Remus. Not his proudest move, but he’s had a long fucking day, okay?
As expected, James catches Regulus around the waist before he falls. It’s Crouch who intervenes (again) when the Seeker draws his wand, with an impressively quick, ‘Expelliarmus’.
Pocketing the wand, Crouch parrots, “Nope, none of that.” Regulus stalks towards him, and without any Transfiguration needed, Evan magically becomes his human shield.
“What I want to know,” his best mate is apparently not mollified by the vow Sirius made under extreme duress, “is where this all fucking came from?! What’s next? You don’t want to pull pranks anymore?”
“Of course I want to pull pranks!” Sirius wilts under Remus and James’s expectant expressions. “But we should be a little less… uhh… biased moving forward -”
Remus nods approvingly. Sirius preens on the inside… sadly, the sense of achievement doesn’t last long.
“Right, silly me, how could I forget?” James sneers. “Snivellus is your best buddy now.”
The brothers respond the same, but Sirius’s words drown out the younger’s. “Don’t call him that!”
“Aren’t we out here to fly?” Remus hesitantly butts in. “We should get to it, yeah?”
“Count us out,” Crouch mutters, shooting Regulus an apologetic smile. “Ev needs to lay down for a bit.”
“No I don’t, I’m fine.”
Anyone with eyes can tell that’s a bold-faced lie,
“We’ll be out here for a while,” Regulus softly argues, “so if you feel better, you can come back, yeah? I think we still have some of that stomach potion you like in the bathroom cabinet, but if not, have Barty ask Cissa for some?”
“Honestly, I’m fine, Reg.”
“Honestly, I will cry if you throw up,” the youngest Black swiftly counters. “Do you want to make me cry, Evan?”
“You’re full of shite… wait, no, what are you doing? Stop that, Reg!”
Sirius beams with pride.
But stubborn wittle Evan Rosier is not so easily cowed. It takes the combined forces of Crouch and Regulus, bolstered by Sirius’s threat, ‘I’m overdue for a conversation with Em and Elle… sure would hate to let them know that little Evie wasn’t looking after himself’, for them to persevere.
Before departing, Crouch returns Regulus’s wand, with strict instructions to, ‘Think twice before casting, but if they deserve it, give ‘em hell, kiddo.’ The taller Slytherin is the only one shocked when he gets a Stinging Hex right in the wazoo, but he laughs good-naturedly at his friend’s gall… the one he sends back would have hit James, if not for the Chaser's hastily cast Shield Charm. An accident, Crouch insists.
Offering the youngest Black his broom, Remus says, “Regulus was right earlier, we are wasting daylight.” Regulus takes it hesitantly, eyes nervously darting to his brother. “We can finish this conversation later.”
“Fantastic idea, Moony, my love -”
James isn’t having it, though.
“You two can go, but Sirius and I are solving this NOW.” The lone Slytherin sighs aggrievedly, but doesn’t take to the skies. “Because if we don’t, he’ll avoid me like the plague, and trying to find someone in this giant bloody castle is NOT how I want to spend my free time.” James moves closer, right into Sirius’s personal bubble. “You haven’t added everything you found, have you? Don’t bother lying, I know I’m right.”
Near the end of their third year, James had the brilliant idea of creating a detailed map of Hogwarts, one that included the interior of the castle - with all its classrooms and secret passageways - and the sprawling grounds outside. Having spent many a night exploring with the use of James’s Invisibility Cloak, the others agreed this was an excellent use of their time, especially if they could find a way for it to show everyone who was currently in the castle (Remus did extensive research over the summer, and with Moony’s superb notes and his friends’ support, Sirius successfully invented the spell they needed on the train back to school). The only problem? The map wasn’t finished, not by a long shot. As the best artist among them, that job fell to Sirius, who admittedly lacked motivation to work on it until that spell was discovered. Then, literally days after he acquired the missing piece, all that stuff happened between him and Remus, which made him even less motivated. Sirius has sketched a sizable amount of the castle and grounds, so it’s functional… technically. It’s definitely a rough draft though, for sure… okay, who is he kidding, he’d be deeply ashamed for his artist-brother to see it. His line work? Awful. Shading? Sinful … and not in the fun way either! Worse, he's got probably an entire backpack full of parchment depicting various parts of the castle that he needs to copy over onto the main map, too.
In the process of thoroughly inspecting his broom for non-existent issues, Regulus distractedly muses, “Can’t be that hard to find people around here. Siri always finds me, and I’m more imaginative than him.”
Jaw dropping open, he stares at his brother in disbelief. “What balderdash! You are NOT more imaginative than me, little star, and I am appalled by your willingness to spread misinformation like this, with no regard for the people affected by your tall tales.” Regulus was not raised to be the sort of bloke who lies about trivial matters… especially when those falsehoods make Sirius look bad! “I humbly ask you to refrain from doing so in the future.”
“It’s not misinformation if it’s true.” I should have grounded him more growing up... or like at all. The way he speaks to his elders/superiors is bloody disrespectful. “I will speak my truth, brother, and there is nothing you can do about it.”
“Wanna bet?”
“We don’t gamble,” his brother reminds him. “But if we did…”
James scoffs. “Don’t kid yourself, Sirius. You’re nowhere near as imaginative as you think.”
“Be that as it may, I think he’s still more imaginative than the average bloke,” Remus says. Again, he shrugs at James’s death-glare. “It’s true, and you know it.”
“Well, I think we can all agree that Reg and I are more imaginative than you, Jamie.” With James already in his personal space, Sirius steps even closer, until they’re nose-to-nose. “What did ‘ole Sluggy say last year during our lesson on Antidotes? Something about how you’re decent at following along with the recipe… something any prat with a brain can do… but when it comes to finding creative solutions, you lack the ability to think outside of the box?”
“HA! Thinking outside of the box, is that how you so easily find Regulus?”
Broom forgotten, Regulus leans forward, eager to hear the answer.
Every muscle in Sirius’s body tenses, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. This is dangerous, dangerous territory. But even if they’re in a spat now, James is still his best mate; he wouldn’t tell Regulus something like this, he wouldn’t betray Sirius in the most devastating way he possibly could.
He wouldn’t…
… right?
“Older brother secrets, sorry.”
Taking Sirius’s hands in his own, James traces soothing circles along his palms. It’s weird, and it makes Sirius's skin crawl. But he doesn’t pull away from his friend, refusing to let him win.
“Older brother secrets, huh?”
“That’s what I said.” Gray eyes bore into hazel, a silent challenge. “You wouldn’t understand, of course. As an only child, you don’t have a brother.”
James never could pass up a challenge from Sirius, could he?
“Right, well I’m sorry not all of us can be fortunate enough to have,” with a wide, friendly, utterly fucking fake smile, James follows Regulus’s example and mercilessly digs his nails into Sirius’s skin, “a handy dandy, built in compass.”
The pain is so sharp and sudden, it takes Sirius a moment to realize he didn’t copy Regulus to the tee; his brother stabbed Sirius with both sets of claws. James only stabbed him with one.
He stabbed Sirius’s left palm, to be exact.
Refusing to believe this is really happening, Sirius’s eyes trail down from James’s smarmy expression, to their joint hands. His eyes then confirm what he didn't wish to be true; the scar on his palm, the same scar he hid with a special potion Grandmother Melania made for him while it healed, the scar he spent ages convincing Regulus was just a birthmark he never noticed before, was hidden beneath a row of four neatly aligned fingernails.
His Blood Magic scar…
James is digging his nails into Sirius’s Blood Magic scar, and only Sirius’s Blood Magic scar.
“A compass that is custom built,” he rips his hands out of James’s hold, “and tuned to -”
Without warning, Sirius lunges. His fist connects with James's jaw, a primal release of rage. Of hurt. All of this because Sirius joined the Gobstones team and was going to miss Quidditch practice once a week? Their friendship means so little to James, he’d leap at the first opportunity to cut Sirius in the deepest way possible, just to get one over him? Really?
James staggers back, eyes wide. Like he can’t believe Sirius actually hit him. Blood trickles from his nose, staining the collar of his shirt. It does nothing to quell the fury pulsing through Sirius’s veins. If anything, it amplifies it.
How dare he, how dare he…
How dare he prove Sirius’s family right!
Per the lessons Regulus and Sirius were taught growing up, ‘The only people Blacks should ever trust are other Blacks.’ They were NOT to depend on other Purebloods, even those from ‘proper’ families; Blacks only trust Blacks, period. He should have listened. As rotten as Sirius’s family is, they’ve never pretended to be anything other than what they are. They wouldn’t fucking betray him like this, either!
How dare he prove Sirius’s deepest fears right!
Joining the Gobstones team shouldn’t be a big deal. It’s not, it’s not, but then James had to go and make it into one, all because it’s uncool. Because Quidditch is better, it’s what the popular kids do, and he doesn’t want to be friends with a loser. Sirius was finally honest about something he’s hidden for fear of being shunned, and look how it’s blown up in his face (coming out to James doesn’t count since he evidently likes blokes too). Hell, if James ever finds out how lame his 'best mate' really is, he’ll probably tell Regulus every single one of Sirius's secrets!
Again, Sirius slams his fist into James’s face. Traitor. Distantly, like he’s halfway across the pitch, he hears Regulus begging for him to stop. But Sirius doesn’t. He can’t. He ignored his gut, and against his better judgment, told James his most protected secret, a secret only one other living person knows; now, Sirius’s wounded pride, his fear of the ensuing repercussions, demands vengeance. Hands grab at him, trying to pull him away, but he hardly pays it any mind.
The vow echoes in his mind, solidified by a sacred pinky promise - ‘I swear, Sirius, I won’t say anything to Regulus about your Blood Magic bond, I won’t ever hint about it, nothing. Marauder’s Honor.’
Honor? HA! What honor is that?
The last time his ‘best mate’ invoked the honor of their friendship group, Regulus almost lost his memories due to James’s negligence. His desire to flirt with Sirius’s little brother took precedence over said brother’s safety! It was reprehensible for Sirius to believe this would have a better ending. After the disaster that was their detention with Slughorn, he should have Obliviated James and washed his hands of the matter; Merlin knows he had plenty of opportunities to do so.
Trusting outsiders is a child’s naivety. They were not ‘one’, bound by something stronger than blood, something stronger than magic. In this, Sirius can only trust himself. He will not make the same mistake again, not when his brother is concerned.
Another punch. Liar. The skin around Sirius’s knuckles splits. His own blood drips to the grass, a small penance to pay for his grievous misjudgment. James dodges the next blow. Sirius, I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean it. With a caustic laugh, Sirius shoves him in the chest. For someone who’s so proud to be in Gryffindor, it’s ironic how you’ve proven yourself to be nothing but a snake. An arm around his waist tugs at him from behind. A sharp jab of Sirius’s elbow into his assailant’s stomach removes the nuisance - it must have been Regulus, as Remus wouldn’t be so easily bested. He’ll feel bad about that later.
Face streaked with blood and tears, James desperately tries to grab him. I swear I didn’t mean to say that, I’m so sorry, Sirius, please, you have to believe me, please! Sirius smacks his hands away. Shut up, SHUT UP! I don’t believe you, and I never will! Deftly evading a series of wild swings, James pounces when there’s a break in the onslaught, pinning Sirius’s arms to his side. Please believe me, Sirius, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t! I never meant to b-betray you, I’m so sorry.
You think because you’re sorry, it magically fixes everything? Sirius furiously twists in James’s hold, trying to free himself. But he can’t, and that enrages him further. I will do anything to make it up to you, Sirius, please, just tell me what to do! You’re my best mate. I love you more than anything in the world, I can’t lose you. I’ll… I’ll break things off with Regulus, never talk to him again. Please, anything to earn your forgiveness, just tell me what I need to do.
I trusted you with something that means more to me than my own life, and do you know what you did with it? You threw it back in my fucking face, James! If that’s what love means to you, you can keep it, because I don't want any part of it! With an enraged scream, Sirius slams his forehead into James’s, hitting above the bridge of his nose to avoid breaking his glasses. The collision sends the other boy reeling backwards, though they both somehow manage to stay on their feet. For probably the first time ever, Sirius is appreciative of the times Grandfather and Father put him under the Cruciatus Curse. Blocking out the searing pain in his forehead, he tackles James to the ground. You’ll stay away from both of us if you know what’s good for you!
Their friendship, once unbreakable, shatters further with each blow. Sirius trusted James, more than anyone, more than he trusted himself. And yeah, James didn’t reveal his secret outright, but Regulus is far from stupid. He’ll put the pieces together, and if he doesn’t, who’s to say James won’t drop more bread crumbs to lead him to the truth? Because fuck Sirius’s own feelings, right?
You’re dead to me James Potter, I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!
Two strong arms lock around his midsection. Sirius thrashes, once again in a struggle to free himself - James needs to hurt as badly as Sirius will when Regulus figures everything out. Regulus will despise him for what he did… well, not what he did, per se, but all the things he did after saving his brother’s life. How he allowed Regulus to be Obliviated and lied to, for years. How Sirius used their connection to his advantage; finding his brother when he didn’t want to be found, calling him out on his lies, having insight as to how Regulus felt in every situation, without him ever needing to say a word. Regulus is an incredibly reserved person, preferring to keep his business to himself. To him, such an invasion of privacy will be the darkest of betrayals, plain and simple.
Unforgivable.
But Remus’s wolfy enhancements, coupled with his equally exasperating and endearing sense of nobleness, means Sirius is wrenched away from James, with no chance in the world of escaping. The force of the shove that follows sends him staggering, and Sirius instinctively reaches out for his sibling. Regulus, however, is an arsehole with no understanding of the word ‘loyalty’; taking a wide step to the right, he watches impassively as his older brother loses his balance and falls to the ground.
Quickly rising to his feet, Sirius storms back to where his former-friend is slowly sitting up. Rebellious Reggie attempts to stop him, but with indignation simmering in his blood, Sirius muscles by the younger boy. When they return to the dorm later, they WILL be discussing his abysmal behavior; Regulus desperately needs to sort out his priorities (those priorities being that he should always choose Sirius over James, of course).
When he's almost in arms reach of the Gryffindor Chaser, Remus steps into his path. “Enough.”
“Stay out of this, Rem!” Sirius growls, shouldering past him.
Rather, Sirius attempts to shoulder past him. The last time he did such a thing - when Remus tried to speak with him, a day after pummeling Reggie into the Entrance Hall - Sirius had no trouble. Today, however… it feels like his shoulder collides with a stone wall. Gritting his teeth, he pushes through the pain, but it's an uphill battle. In his next attempt to get around Remus (with agility, rather than strength), the werewolf places a hand on his chest, and Sirius ends up hunched over, struggling to breathe as the wind is knocked out of him.
But he is not so easily deterred!
“ENOUGH, SIRIUS, LET IT GO!” Remus roars when Sirius’s wand appears in his hand.
... he is, perhaps, more easily deterred than originally believed.
In spite of his bloodlust, Sirius stills. Embarrassingly, a very large small part of him is tempted to bare his neck, but Sirius has some semblance of pride left. He settles for sheathing his wand and ducking his head instead.
“While I check on James, you will stand here, quietly.” A hand grips his chin, forcing their gazes to meet. “You will NOT storm off to go sulk. If you decide to leave the pitch before I dismiss you, the repercussions will be… well, you’re imaginative, aren’t you?” Not trusting his voice, Sirius nods. “I require a verbal response, Sirius.”
Fuck.
Clearing his throat in hopes of masking his whimper, Sirius rasps, “Understood.”
For a moment, he swears Remus’s eyes flash amber. “Good boy.” Oh Godric, Sirius does NOT have the mental capacity to withstand this type of torture, not today, not ever. “While you are quietly standing here, you will let Regulus heal your wounds without a fuss. When I come back, we will sort this bloody mess out. Is that understood, darling?”
At Remus’s reprimanding - a mere preview of the firestorm that is to come - Sirius's anger wanes, replaced by a hollow ache.
“Yes, my love,” he agrees, shoulders slumping.
Two weeks of tension with Remus and Sirius at odds; that’s solved, and now not even a day later, Sirius and James are on the outs. Crikey, Petey is going to slip poison into Sirius’s pumpkin juice the moment he sees an opening!… hopefully Sev likes him enough to prepare an antidote while Sirius is busy fighting for his life.
Regulus doesn’t say a word while he heals Sirius’s bloody and bruised knuckles. A tap to his forehead reduces the ache blooming behind his eyes, and another alleviates the throbbing in his shoulder. Not trusting his older brother’s assessment that he is otherwise unscathed, Regulus takes his petty revenge by viciously poking and prodding Sirius with his wand in search of hidden injuries.
“Oh,” the younger Slytherin mutters upon concluding that Sirius was indeed being truthful. The Gryffindor-Black doesn’t mention the bruises the younger surely left in his wake. “Huh…”
They stand in silence while Remus finishes tending to James. Sirius stares vacantly into the distance, unwilling to look at the pair. He has no interest in seeing the damage he wrought.
From start to finish, this entire mess is Sirius’s fault. For cruelly and selfishly asking James the Magnanimous to keep such a heavy, profound secret to himself. For being naïve enough to believe that James could. He probably thinks it’s a cardinal sin for Sirius to lie to his dearest Regulus like this, so he’s deemed it his civic duty to expose the truth. Knowing James, he wouldn’t even be surprised if it was a subconscious choice!
“If you don’t mind, Regulus,” Remus says some unknown amount of time later. “I’d first like to speak with Sirius, please. Alone.”
The Black heir silently wishes for his brother to respond with something like, ‘I do mind, actually’. It’s rare for Sirius to not want Remus all to himself, but between the two of them - his brother and his boyfriend - Regulus is the least likely to admonish him in public. Unfortunately, it’s evident by the way Regulus scampers over to James without a word, this is going into the (overflowing) ‘unfulfilled wishes’ pile.
“Are you going to break up with me?” Sirius sullenly asks, before Remus can say anything.
“No. But I confess, I am very disappointed in you, Sirius.”
It’s worse than a punch to the gut.
“So, business as usual, then?”
Sirius excels at a lot of things, including frequently disappointing everyone he cares about.
Unable to meet his boyfriend’s eyes, he instead watches the way Regulus tentatively reaches out, like he’s going to touch James’s shoulder, before letting his arm awkwardly drop back down, indecision written all over his face. Coincidentally (or maybe he has a sixth sense for when Reggie’s timidness gets the better of him), James shuffles forward, right into Regulus’s personal bubble. Emboldened, Regulus wraps his arms around the bleak Gryffindor Chaser’s waist, honestly, what’s he got to be so glum about? He wasn’t the bloke who almost had his BIGGEST secret exposed to the person said secret involved. Talk about emotional manipulation, worthy of the great House of Black itself!
When James hooks his chin over Regulus’s shoulder, he unintentionally catches Sirius’s eye. The Gryffindor-Black glowers fiercely at his brother’s paramour, a wordless reminder that he has NOT forgotten how he ordered James to stay away from him -
Remus steps directly into Sirius’s line of sight. “I am tempted to say, ‘Violence isn’t the answer, we use our words, not our fists’, but I think that would make me a hypocrite, huh?”
“I mean, to be fair, Reggie hit you first -”
“But I hit you first, which is inexcusable.”
Sirius tries to restrain his smile, but doesn’t have much success. “Is it weird to say I appreciate you using your fists in that instance?”
“A bit,” Remus snorts, reaching for his hand. His left hand.
Without thinking, Sirius shoves his left hand into his pocket, then holds his right out, palm up. It’s a huge relief when his more-bonkers-than-usual behavior goes unquestioned.
“How upset are you with me?” A verbal response isn’t necessary when you’re conversing with the King of Sassy Expressions. His face says it all - ‘Repeat that question in your head, and you’ll have your answer’. It makes Sirius realize he really does need to work on his communication skills. “I meant it more like… how upset are you that I told the school about us?” Remus bites his lip, clearly thinking the question over, so Sirius quietly adds, “Gonna warn you in advance, if you say 'very', I will cry.”
It’s true, too.
And yes, Sirius should be embarrassed about that, but over the last four years, Remus has seen him cry more times than either of them can count. It’s impossible to know if it’s a werewolf thing, a Remus thing, or a bit of both, but his boyfriend has his own sixth sense for when the waterworks start. It’s nowhere near as intense as Sirius’s Blood Magic bond with Regulus, since it only seems to work if they’re in relatively close proximity. It is, however, strong enough to bypass the layers of Silencing Charms on Sirius’s bed curtains, and it even activates if Remus is dead asleep when the tears start to fall.
Cupping Sirius’s cheek, Remus purrs, “Can’t have that, now, can we? Do you wanna know what I read in the Prophet yesterday?”
“A Ministry Official was arrested on suspicion of murdering their spouse?” Wait, was that too dark?... Yeah, that was definitely too dark, even for Moony. Blimey, this is what happens when I spend all my time with Reggie and Evan, those morbid sons of bitches! “Heh, umm… just kidding! It’s been a long day, you’ve stumped me.” There, a safe answer.
“I read it’s now considered the most heinous of crimes to make beautiful boys cry.” Wholly unrelated, Sirius’s heart does a somersault in his chest. “Gonna make it my personal mission to ensure you never cry again, love.”
It’s insane how easily Remus can turn him into a pile of goo, and it’s even more insane that Sirius doesn’t have to hide his reactions anymore. Erm… okay, he’ll probably hide some of them. The last thing he’d ever wanna do is scare his Moony away!
“With all due respect, Mister Lupin, I have been advised that personal missions are supposed to be things that are actually accomplishable. I appreciate the thought behind it, of course, but was it not my Moonbeam who said we’re supposed to be realistic when setting goals? You know I’m a crier… if I was a tree, I’d be a Weeping Willow.”
“I disagree, I think you’d be a unique hybrid. A Whomping-Weeping Willow, perhaps.”
Sirius bristles. “Unique or not, Sirius Black is not some half-breed!”
“Forgive me, love,” Remus says placatingly, “I forgot how important purity is to you.”
Shite.
“It’s more about circumventing the expectations of others,” he sniffs. “A Weeping Willow who womps anyone who disrespects them. Then, we both weep. Hence, Weeping Willow.”
“Alright.” Chuckling, Remus presses a kiss to the top of his hand. “I’ll give you that one.”
Sirius fights back a blush. “Yay me. Now, will you give me an answer to the question I asked?”
“Always so sassy, aren’t you?”
“Two weeks apart, and you’ve managed to forget everything about me, huh?”
“Now, just who do you take me for?” Remus cries with faux-offense. “I’d never forget a single thing about the Sirius Black, let alone a core part of his personality. Also, no, I’m not upset with you about that. I didn’t want us to be a secret, I told you yesterday -”
“I know, I was there.” Sirius can’t hold back his giggle at his boyfriend’s cross expression. “But when I came back and told you lot about what I did, you didn’t look too pleased about it.”
“I was confused… I am confused.”
Great, now Sirius is confused too! “Uhh, gonna you need to be a bit more specific. What is so confusing about me telling the school you’re my boyfriend?”
“Forgive me, maybe I’m overthinking it…” Remus’s cheeks flush an endearing pink. “I never thought you would want people, our peers to be more specific, to know about us. Being together, that is.”
Sirius blinks. “What.”
“It makes sense, when you think about it!”
It certainly does not, Moons, what the heck!
“I’m thinking about it. And I have found there’s no sense to be found!”
“Well, I’m you know… no one special -”
PARDON?!
“That’s my boyfriend you’re insulting, mister!”
Remus makes a choked sound. “But you’re you, Sirius Black -”
“I am.”
“The most attractive bloke -”
“Person.”
“Quidditch star -”
“Begrudgingly.”
“With a legion of admirers -”
“Yet only one that matters.”
“And most popular -”
“... not for much longer.”
“Oh, I highly doubt that. If anyone tries to give you crap for being on the Gobstones team, I’ll send their arses to detention… and make their life a living hell in the process. Unofficially, of course.”
So many feelings swirl within him, giddy-happy-nervous-fond-lovelovelove, Sirius thinks he might burst. “I’m not ashamed of you, Remus. I’m so fucking proud to be your boyfriend, you have no idea. You can ask Marlene to tell you about it. I looked like a loon talking about you in my speech.”
“Yeah, about that.” Remus stares so intently at him, it makes him want to squirm. “Are you alright, Sirius?”
“I am.” Agitation creeps into his voice. “I’m not as strong as you,” by a longshot, good Godric, “but I can defend myself just fine, thank you very much. He didn’t get a single good hit in.”
“Probably because James wasn’t trying to hurt you!” And how exactly is that Sirius’s fault, hmm? “The same can not be said for the reverse.”
He doesn’t think Remus would appreciate that particular question, so he blurts one that’s been on his mind for the last three seconds. “Why didn’t you use magic to separate us?”
Remus’s eyes narrow. “Are you fishing for compliments again?”
“Uhh, no?” Gryffindor he might be, but Sirius is also not one to pass up a good opportunity. “I am, however, open to receiving any you wish to share.”
“You’re banned from any and all compliments for the next twenty-four hours after that barbaric display.” The Black heir cocks an eyebrow. “Starting now.” The werewolf lightly flicks his nose. “Don’t pout, you know I’m weak.” Sirius juts his bottom lip out even further. “You’re a bloody menace, Sirius Black. Fine! Your Shield Charm was impenetrable -”
Has he used magic at all this afternoon? Fuck, his terrible memory is so bloody annoying ('selective memory' is probably more accurate… and a term he always forgets!).
“What Shield Charm?”
“The Shield Charm you cast while beating James to a pulp,” Remus deadpans. “The one that prevented us from breaking up the fight with magic.”
Nervously, Sirius half-shrugs. “Blacked out a bit, methinks. Don’t remember doing that.”
“Again, I do NOT support either of you beating the crap out of each other to solve your problems, but I admit, I initially reasoned that you two needed to get it out of your systems. However, it quickly became clear the fight was one-sided. But before I could do anything about it, I had to ensure your pointy elbow didn’t result in your brother suffering from a collapsed lung.” Whoopsie. “Upon concluding that he was fine, I tried to use magic, several times. Regulus and I even tried casting together, in fact, but your fucking Shield wouldn’t budge.”
This is not the time to brag about your Accidental Magic being too powerful for your magically apt boyfriend to handle, Sirius fiercely reminds himself. He would NOT appreciate it, and you are already on thin ice. Besides, you’re lucky he’s as stubbornly determined/prideful as you. Otherwise, that ‘fight’ would have lasted for twenty seconds at most.
“We couldn’t bring down your Silencing Charm either, which is theoretically easier magic to counter. So, congrats on being extra berky, I guess.” Well, that’s a huge relief! “Regulus insisted on approaching first, since he had some semblance of success already, and when he didn’t get thrown back, I pulled you off.”
“James overstepped,” Sirius says, answering the unspoken question. “I didn’t appreciate it.”
“For the record, I highly doubt Regulus appreciated you beating up his… whatever James is to him. Pretty sure you traumatized him.”
Sirius traumatized Regulus? Oh, that is rich!
“You think my brother, the youngest member of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black and a boy who grew up in Grimmauld Place, was traumatized by a little scuffle?”
“You should have seen Regulus’s face when you first hit James, he was beside himself! Even dropped his wand at one point because he was shaking like a leaf. If your head wasn’t so far up your arse when I pulled you off James,” harsh, but he probably deserved that, “you might have noticed how shell-shocked he looked.”
“Interesting.”
“Like someone who had just witnessed a murder!”
Well, on that note…
Turning around, Sirius scowls when he sees Regulus still wrapped around James. He sets aside his annoyance, focusing on the more pressing issue. “Oi, Reggie!”
“What do you want, Sirius?”
For you to chill with the attitude, brat. “During your sixth birthday party, you unexpectedly received an omen of good fortune. What was it? And do not ask why I’m asking, I just am.”
Regulus rolls his eyes, but graciously gifts them with an answer. “Moments before the cake was brought out, a herd of thestrals wandered into Uncle Alphard’s backyard.” His expression becomes wistful. “The foals were so cute and small. Everyone got all stroppy about them trampling the plants, but it wasn’t like they did it on purpose! They merely wanted to see what the fuss was about… and eat some cake.”
A quick glance to the side reveals Remus’s horrified expression, good. Regulus either doesn’t notice, doesn’t care, or doesn’t understand the meaning behind it (how normal people consider it incredibly distressing that a child can see a thestral. At least Remus knows the Blacks well enough to forgo any attempts to rationalize it).
“Which you were all too happy to share.”
“Well, of course! On my birthday, no one is going to stop me from sharing my cake and petting all the animals I want.” Regulus would do both of those things regardless of what day it was, but that is neither here nor there. “You know, I forgot all about that until you brought it up.” Even from a distance, Sirius can hear his downcast sigh. “I hope they’re doing alright.”
“I’m sure they’re just peachy. Thank you for sharing that lovely anecdote, little star.” Sirius grins innocently at his boyfriend. “See? A little fight between fo-... mates is nothing. He’s fine.”
Remus shakes his head in dismay. “Alright, alright, you win… wipe that smug smile off your face, mister!” Sirius opts to cover his mouth instead. “Look, Sirius. I know no matter what becomes of us in the future, you and James will always have your secrets. Just the two of you. And I’m perfectly okay with that. I’m not asking you to tell me what that was all about, but I can tell something is bothering you, something aside from your worry over your brother. And it pushed you to impulsively join the Gobstones team and confess to the school. Neither of which I’m upset by, for the record. I just want you to be okay, Sirius. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I won’t judge you for it, I promise -”
“Everyone judges.”
“I won’t hold it against you.”
More than anything, Sirius wants to tell Remus the truth, all of it; the Blood Magic bond, his friendship with Death, how he’s led a life of nothing but lies since he got to Hogwarts. Hiding his sexuality was the tip of the iceberg.
He can’t, though.
It’s… it’s too much. It’s all just too much, especially this soon into their relationship. Yes, it’s wrong to have a relationship based on lies, he’s aware of that. But Sirius wanted this for so long, and the idea of giving it up before he’s even had a chance to enjoy it makes him want to throw himself in front of the Hogwarts Express. That doesn’t even take into account what Sirius would do if Remus ended up being the one who told Regulus the truth! (probably something along the lines of moving to Siberia and then Obliviating himself).
Out of nowhere, Remus makes a pained sound in the back of his throat. He steps away from Sirius, gaze focused on Regulus and James.
Catching his older brother’s eye, Regulus asks, “Time to switch?”
Why are we switching? Sirius thinks exasperatedly to himself. He just wants to go back inside and hide away behind Regulus’s bed curtains for the rest of the weekend. Is that so much to ask?!
Outwardly, the youngest Black appears calm and collected. But because of their bond, Sirius is aware that his brother is starting to panic, which means Sirius is starting to panic, if James told Regulus the truth, he’d be livid, right? Not on the verge of freaking out, like someone just informed him that if he wants to stay on the Quidditch team, he’ll need to give an improvised speech in front of the entire school in five minutes.
Regulus doesn’t wait for an answer. Patting James on the head, he hightails it out of there with long, purposeful strides, far removed from his usual pokiness.
“Think about what I said, okay?” Remus presses a kiss to each of Sirius’s cheeks. “The boyfriend thing is lovely, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still one of my best mates.” He squeezes Sirius’s hand one last time before letting go. “I love you, Padfoot.”
You shouldn’t, his inner voice whispers immediately. You don’t know me, not really.
“I l-love you, too,” Sirius chokes out.
With a fond smile, his beautiful boyfriend blows him a kiss. Sirius doesn’t have a chance to react, as Remus immediately turns his attention to his charity work.
“Come here, big guy.” The werewolf envelopes James in a giant bear hug… which does not induce a spike of envy within Sirius, because he is mature and secure in his relationship.
“Already at the ‘I love you’ stage, huh?” Regulus asks, leading him away from the pair. Judgment radiates from every one of his tiny pores. “Has it even been twenty-four hours yet?”
“If you recall, sweet brat of mine, Remus has been one of my best mates for years now.” Tired of standing, Sirius wandlessly summons the blanket they used for their picnic. “Let me guess… you don’t tell your best mates you love them?” Plopping down, he nudges Regulus’s foot when his brother doesn’t move, too busy casting unsubtle glances at James and Remus.
Sitting across from Sirius, his brother shakes his head. “I do not.”
“Well, that’s rubbish! You should tell them. They deserve to know.”
“They already do know, without me needing to say a word.”
Sirius rolls his eyes. “Regardless, tell them so there’s no doubt. Plus, it’s nice to be reminded… and we are working on our communication skills, are we not?”
“You love Potter, don't you?”
The question instantly dampens his mood. “I suppose.”
“But?”
“He’s on my shite list right now, and I’m probably on his.”
Regulus opens his mouth, then closes it, evidently deciding against whatever he was going to say. He eventually asks, “Is it accurate to assume that’s a rare list for him to be on?
A tawny owl soars above them, a letter tied to its leg. Sirius watches it fly towards the owlery, while he ponders over Regulus’s question. “Yeah, I mean… he gets on my nerves sometimes. But we don’t really fight.” The only time James was on his shite list was back in third year, during the Awkward Snog Saga, as Sirius dubbed it in his head. And that wasn’t technically a fight. “You know, a little over two weeks ago, you would have celebrated a tiff between James and I.”
“No, I wouldn’t have.” He gives his younger brother the blankest deadpan stare he can muster. “Okay, at first, yes. But once those initial feelings faded, I would have hated it, because it would mean you were upset.” Regulus fiddles with the edge of the blanket. “Do you know why I despised Potter, long before we ever met?”
“Because our family considers his family to be ‘blood traitors’?”
“No.”
“You blame him for me being sorted to Gryffindor, which subsequently made your life more difficult?”
Regulus blinks. “Should I have blamed him for that?”
“Probably.” Meeting James gave him the confidence to tell the Sorting Hat to piss off and forget all thoughts of sending him to the Snakepit. “You hate him simply because he’s a Gryffindor?”
“Sweet Merlin have mercy, that cannot be a sincere guess!” the Slytherin cries. “I hated him because I was jealous, Sirius, come on!” Uhh… wot? Befuddled by his brother’s response, Sirius makes the mistake of not interrupting Regulus before he works himself into a tizzy. “You know, for someone so smart, you are incredibly dumb.” It must be Black-Style Compliments Day, sheesh. “I know it’s difficult, but let’s think about this from a logical perspective. Why would I hate Potter for being a Gryffindor, when the Prewett twins are my closest friends outside of Barty, Ev, and Pandora? How does that make any sense, Sirius, even in your weird brain?”
“Why were you jealous?” Sirius hastily interjects when Regulus remembers he needs oxygen to survive. “Was it because of the Quidditch pitch in his backyard?... heh, a joke, no need to bring out the stabby-stabbies!”
It’s not technically a joke, but after reflecting on the matter, Sirius concludes that if Reggie had knowledge of the professional-sized Quidditch Pitch on the grounds of Potter Manor prior to this school year, he would have pitched… heh… an absolute fit about it. Despite his brother’s best efforts, there are exactly zero Quidditch pitches to be found on the grounds of any and all Black-owned properties.
“Do not get me started on the unfairness of that!” Regulus growls, clenching his fists. Sirius tucks away this particular conversation topic for a rainy day… that rainy day being whenever he needs to distract his brother for some reason or another. “But no. I envied the bond between you two. How you lit up every time you talked about him, how meeting him seemed to be the greatest thing that ever happened to you. I spent years trying to understand it… what was so bloody special about James Potter, besides his aesthetically pleasing face?” Sirius chokes on his own spit. “I get it now.”
“Fantastic, good to hear,” the Gryffindor-Black fibs. “Also, for someone so smart, you are incredibly dumb.” He smirks at Regulus’s aghast expression. “Saying this with total sincerity, but that is just silliness! No one will ever replace you in my eyes, Reg. Not James, not Remus, not anyone.”
Regulus glances away. “I… I know that now.” Good, he better. “But that wasn’t really my point. My point is you two are best mates, as close as brothers. Like us. You love him, and he loves you, so are you really going to let some silly spat drive a permanent wedge between you two? You and I, we fought for years, Sirius. Is… whatever the fuck you and Potter are fighting about… really that big of a deal?”
“Yes,” Sirius says automatically, choosing to focus on that question, rather than Reggie’s unsubtle but powerful emotional manipulation. Because fuck, that hits home; paradoxically, it also makes James’s betrayal hurt even worse. “It is a big deal to me.”
“Alright. Then, let me ask you this… was letting you kick his arse not penance enough to atone for whatever Potter did to upset you?”
“He didn’t let me -”
“Remember the brawl YOU started the other week during that Sunday pick-up match? With my own two eyes, I saw Potter break the jaw of a bloke twice his size… with one punch, Sirius! He let you kick his arse.”
“I broke Paxton’s nose with one punch, Reggie, why don’t I get any credit?!” No reason to point out that the nose in question was broken when Sirius jumped off his broom and tackled Paxton mid-air. Semantics!
“Again, that is NOT my point, Sirius!”
“Okay, but seriously -“
“No.”
“Out of his hoard of admirers, I am sure James will be overjoyed to know you’re his number one fan. Will you make signs and cheer for him during each match? Blimey, what are you going to do when Slytherin plays… put your claws away, Reg!”
Where did this savage beast come from? Take him back there, wherever it is!
“I will, this once. But I want it to be known, I do not like your tone, brother.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Curiosity gets the better of him. “So, what did James tell you when you were kissing his booboos better?… owww!”
“Not much,” Regulus says, retracting his claws from Sirius’s arm… this time, it does bleed.
Pfft, an unlikely story. James probably spent the last few minutes telling Regulus all about how mean Big Brother Siri is to him. And did Regulus say a word in Sirius’s defense? Doubtful!
Feeling petty, Sirius heals his arm by just staring at it. It’s magic neither James nor Regulus can accomplish, and he delights in how irritated his brother looks as a result, someone needs to work on their wandless magic, methinks!
Actually, ugh, that is a conundrum they’ll need to address soon, because both Reggie’s nonverbal and wandless magic skills are below par for his age (per Black criterium, not Hogwarts).
“You’re supposed to be on my side, Regulus!” he fiercely reminds his sibling. “Not your paramour’s side, but mine. James is NOTHING to you!” Regulus opens his mouth to protest, but Sirius holds a hand up. “I know you like him, and I respect that.” Begrudgingly. “But at this point in time, he has no real claim on your loyalty. I, however, as your older brother and the bloke who basically raised you, do.”
Rolling his eyes, Regulus grumbles, “I’m not on anyone’s side -”
“Practicing for your resorting to Hufflepuff, are you?”
“I think you’re both being daft!”
“Be that as it may, you can at least think he’s being more daft!”
“I can’t pick a side, because I have NO idea what the bloody hell is going on, brother! Ten minutes you’re gone, if that. Then you come back, and we find out you’ve upended everything -”
“I decided to play a boardgame once a week with some new people, and interrupted lunch to make a two-minute speech telling everyone I’m really fucking gay, and they better not put their paws or eyeballs on my boyfriend. I didn’t upend anything!”
“James seems to think you did -”
“Oh, James now, is it?” Sirius sneers, anger reigniting. “Well, that’s convenient timing.
Regulus bristles. “It’s his name, James Potter. I thought you knew that, but maybe I overestimated you!”
And maybe permitting this courtship was a mistake!
Merlin, dare he say it, maybe Mother and Grandmother were right; Evan really would make a good spouse for Regulus.
“And how long is it until it’s James Black, huh?”
“He’s really upset, Sirius!” his brother cries, cheeks blazing. “Your best mate is in shambles, and you don’t care in the slightest!”
Oh, Sirius called it, didn’t he? Two weeks, and already, James has turned Regulus against him. What kind of person must Sirius be if after everything they’ve been through together, Regulus is so willing to toss him to the side?… for a bloke he hardly knows, no less!
“And what about me, Regulus?! You seem to forget, he upset me first! I didn’t do anything wrong -” His brother gives him an incredulous look. “Okay, but he was a prick first, he started everything! I just wanted to… all I wanted to do was something different. Something fun. For me. And he…” Oh fuck, no no no, this can’t be happening, not out here. “He was mean, Regulus! The first real friend I ever had. It was ‘sposed to be different with him.” Tears well up in his eyes, but Sirius furiously blinks them away. Unfortunately, there’s not much he can do for the way his throat constricts, making it even more difficult to get the words out. But Regulus has to understand. “But then I suddenly did something that was fun for me, but ‘uncool’ to the masses, and he was mean, Reggie! He called me names, he insisted his real friend would never be so lame. And guess what? In truth, I’m a thousand times lamer than that!… something my ‘friends’ and our peers have no idea about!”
“Pardon, but my brother is not lame!”
“Hate to break it to you, little star, but he really, really is. Embarrassingly so -”
“Nope. Your brother is lame. Mine, however, is not. He’s the most popular bloke in school, I’ll have you know.”
“Invalid argument, they don’t actually know me -”
“Evan thinks you’re cool, and he’s known you all his life!” Regulus harrumphs.
Sirius wags his finger. “Evan wants to kiss me. He’s willing to overlook a lot because of that. Don’t get it twisted.”
“Aww come on, why would you say that?!” his brother shudders. “Gross. But Sirius, I know I tease you about being a dork, since you kind of are… erm, which isn’t a bad thing! But you’re not lame.” Regulus starts gnawing on his bottom lip; absentmindedly, Sirius tugs it out from between with teeth, because no no, they will not be having any of that. “What is lame is getting so bent out of shape about what other people like to do for fun. I concur that Potter’s reaction to your announcement was strange, incredibly so -“
“Yes, it was. Thanks for calling him out on it… oh wait, that was Evan.”
Regulus lowers his gaze. “I’m sorry. I should have said something, but I just kept thinking about how there must be something more going on -“
“Do you still not understand why I was so upset about his reaction, Regulus?” Sirius snaps, losing his patience. “Because James, my supposed best mate in the whole wide world, was mean about something I really enjoy doing! Like them.”
He’s sure they both know who he is referring to, but Regulus still asks, “Like who?”
“Our f-family.”
“Siri, I don’t think he meant to be mean,” his brother says softly.
“THEY NEVER DO, BUT THAT DOESN’T CHANGE THE FACT THAT THEY WERE, REGULUS!” Sirius angrily wipes at his eyes. “I know you don’t understand, and I don’t blame you for that, it’s not your fault. But I’m not like you. I’m…” Weird, broken, unlikable, too much, never enough, wrongwrongwrong. “I tried, okay? I tried to be the Sirius Black everyone wants me to be.” He can’t hold back his tears any longer. “But it’s so fucking hard, and I’m tired, Reg, I’m so tired of pretending all the time.”
“Oh no no no… Siri, don’t cry, everything is fine!”
Sirius sobs harder, because it’s not fine. Because Sirius fucked everything up, like he always does. Because Sirius is fucked up, and no matter how hard he tries to be normal, to be like everyone else, all he ever does is highlight his own deficiencies.
“Two for two,” his brother mutters to himself. “Great job, Regulus, great job.”
If you’re to have any hope of saving your relationship with Regulus one day, you need James on your side, the annoying voice in the back of his head whispers. He MIGHT be able to convince Regulus not to shun you.
And fuck, that’s a decent point, isn’t it?
But Sirius is weak enough to admit, to himself only, he wants James, on his side, period. Fucking hell, he is so pathetic and desperate, it’s disgusting.
“Is the real me really that bad?” Sirius whispers so quietly, he’s not sure Regulus heard him.
“Don’t be ridiculous. The real you is great, even better than the fake one!” They both wince. “Erm… I love both?” Regulus nods to himself. “Yeah, all of your personalities are great, Sirius.”
Gee, yay him.
Pretending to flick his hair out of his eyes, Regulus glances over his shoulder to check on James. Sirius is too mentally drained to be upset about it. His brother is already stuck in the middle when it comes to Sirius and the other Blacks… Regulus can’t be in the middle of him and James too. He isn’t fully convinced his brother would be able to play both sides, not like James did when Remus and Sirius were at odds. What he is convinced of, though? The contest would not end in Sirius’s favor. Because even if Regulus did ‘pick’ Sirius, ending things with James would greatly upset him, and over time, he’d grow to resent Sirius, and just, ugh! Why couldn’t Reggie have fallen for Ev? Or one of the Prewett twins? WHY did he have to fall for James?
“I’m sorry, little star, I didn’t mean to… to upend and ruin everything! I swear I didn’t, I just, I didn’t think, okay? But I can f-fix it… I’ll… I’ll quit the Gobstones team! Then, everything will be fine again…” Looking pleadingly at Regulus, he wipes his nose with his sleeve and sniffs, “Won’t it?”
At Regulus’s grimace, Sirius drops his face into his hands, overcome by another round of hopeless sobbing.
“No, no no! Shhh, you don’t have to do that, Potter will get over it. And, umm… you can quit the Quidditch team if you want! I won’t be mad, I promise. Just please don’t cry, please.” Regulus makes a distressed noise. “We’re outside, Sirius, you have to stop, or you’ll… you’re going to regret it!”
Lifting his head to scowl at his sibling, Sirius spits, “What the fuck, Regulus? ‘Blacks don’t cry, suck it up and stop embarrassing me in public’, that’s what you’re going with? You really are just like Mother, aren't you?”
“No, no, I’d never! I meant… I meant think about your face!”
“What about my face?"
“It’s going to get puffy! You… oh dear, you just touched your eyes again.”
Instead of handing Sirius his handkerchief, or ya know, trying to comfort him, Regulus takes it upon himself to clean his brother’s face.
“Oi, get off! Are you trying to suffocate me?!”
“Stop moving! Crying makes you congested, and we’re outside… hold still… so it’ll be even worse.” Sitting in between his brother’s outstretched legs, Regulus lets out another forlorn sigh. “The phlegm, Siri. Remember the phlegm.”
It’s so ridiculous, and Regulus truly seems so upset on his behalf, it startles a laugh out of him. His brother’s offended huff has Sirius crying for an entirely different reason than before.
“Ooh, Merlin no, not the phlegm, anything but the phlegm!”
Regulus smacks his arm. “Tell me I’m wrong!”
“You’re not wrong, you’re not wrong.” Sirius catches his brother’s hand before it can smack him again. “You’re not, Reg. And thank you, I needed that.”
“You’re welcome,” Regulus says. “I suppose.” Without warning, he attacks again. “Now, come here, my brother can’t be seen in public with snot all over his face.”
All Remus wants is for his two best mates to reconcile today, to avoid the horrendous awkwardness of the last time James and Sirius were on the outs. Sirius isn’t feeling too fondly towards James right about now, but he also doesn’t begrudge his boyfriend for trying. After all, Sirius and Remus just spent two weeks estranged.
But Regulus… well, he is NOT having it, and he does not care in the slightest if his brother’s boyfriend is miffed about it. Poor Rem gets to experience firsthand how implacable the youngest Black can be. And if he thought Sirius was bad, well… he and James must surely realize now that it could be way, way worse.
Sirius has just finished recounting his meeting with Heather Gleason - including the little white lie Regulus is expected to uphold, please and thank you - when a shadow falls over the brothers.
Golden and radiant in the afternoon sunlight, Remus looms over them, a warm smile on his handsome face. His honeyed words take the air right out of Sirius’s lungs. “Are we ready to settle this like the mature, intelligent students we are?”
Not having heard anything his boyfriend said, Sirius nods, like uh huh, whatever you say, beautiful.
“Okay, Professor McGonagall, take it down a notch.” Standing half-hidden behind Remus, James snorts at Regulus’s cheekiness. “Actually, we'll need to raincheck that discussion. We're leaving.”
Years of listening to his three best mates brazenly lie to their teachers is the only reason Sirius manages to keep a straight face... that, and from hearing his own lies. Terrible to say, but sometimes Sirius is shocked by what comes out of his mouth.
His brother’s demeanor changes so fast, it gives Sirius whiplash. Regulus’s posture straightens, and his expression closes off. As if stepping into a second skin, he becomes the quintessential image of a haughty and proud Pureblood lad.
“Oh?”
Nose raised in the air, Regulus coolly responds, “Yes, regrettably, my brother is suffering from the effects of a concussion -“
“Really?” Remus asks skeptically, one hand on his hip. “That’s odd, it didn’t come up on any of the diagnostic scans I ran.”
Blimey, my memory must be worse than I thought, because I do not remember him doing anything of the sort. Hmm, maybe I can blame it on the concussion I didn’t realize I had… wait a minute, I know that look!
Sirius fakes a sneeze - along with the ‘polite cough’, the fake sneeze is another one of their nonverbal cues. Although, this one is less of a cue, and more of a way to share information while in front of an audience. It’s their way of saying, ‘Someone just lied to your beautiful face.’
Gracefully rising to his feet, the youngest Black scoffs, “Obviously, you did it wrong.”
“Mmm, no, I don’t think I did.”
“Similar to how he’d whack a Bludger with his Beater’s bat, my madman of a brother bashed his forehead brutally into Potter’s.” He peers at Remus in disbelief. “You truly think they were left unscathed by that collision?” The question hangs in the air, before Regulus snootily adds, “If you care at all about Potter’s wellbeing, you’d escort him back upstairs and straight into bed. Which, if you’ll excuse us, I will be doing the exact same thing for my brother.”
Regulus is convincing, there’s no denying that. And it’s impossible for him to know how clever and quick-witted Remus Lupin truly is. However, Regulus did overlook a crucial detail he should be aware of; Remus has been dealing with Sirius and James’s stubborn arses for four plus years.
“No need to trouble yourself, Regulus. It’s such a long trek to the seventh floor. I can handle both of them.”
“Respectfully,” all three Gryffindors brace themselves for something massively disrespectful, “by returning to Slytherin, Sirius will receive better care under the eyes of our cousin, Narcissa, who has years of medical training from Madam Pomfrey herself -" Well, that wasn't so bad!
“So does Lily Evans. A witch you’ve recently befriended, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Oh yes, I positively adore her.” At the younger’s admittance, Remus smirks triumphantly. “But if you think I’ll leave my brother in the hands of someone who dislikes him, you are out of your damn mind, Remus Lupin.”
“And your cousin is better how?... besides, Lily doesn’t dislike Sirius!”
Sirius and James both make skeptical noises at the claim.
“She literally told me so herself.”
... well, that stings more than it should.
“Funny, she told me the exact opposite -”
“Sweetheart, she lied to you.” Normally, Sirius would smack his brother… and anyone else for that matter… who called his boyfriend ‘sweetheart’. But he’ll forgive it just this once, so long as it doesn’t happen again. He has to bite his cheeks to keep from laughing at Remus’s affronted expression. “As for Narcissa, Blacks show affection in our own unique way. We are certainly not to blame for the proletariat -" Sirius shoots his brother a disapproving glare. "We are not to blame for outsiders misunderstanding our ways. As I myself have experienced two concussions in the last few months, there's no debate to be had over this matter. We are indisputably better equipped to watch over Sirius.” With a lofty grin, Regulus purrs, “You do want your boyfriend to recover, don’t you, Remus?”
Jaw clenched, Remus's tongue presses against the inside of his cheek... Sirius digs his nails into his upper arm to stay focused. Now is NOT the time for his brain to malfunction! “Sirius’s physical health is important to me, as is his emotional and mental health. Which is why I believe this issue needs to be resolved now, before it can fester.”
“Injury aside, my brother requires time away from the object of his distress to process his feelings -“
“Time he’s had, might I point out.”
Regulus scoffs. “I always forget you’re a lion, until you say tripe like that! It’s been thirty minutes at most. That isn’t sufficient time to process shite. Whatever happened to the old adage of ‘sleep on it’?”
“Should you depart now, can you provide assurance Sirius will be available tomorrow for a discussion?”
“Certainly.”
“Say it again,” Remus croons, “but this time, without the lie.”
“I do not appreciate your insinuation, Lupin!”
“I apologize for the misunderstanding. There’s no insinuation of anything. I’m calling your bluff.”
Regulus’s left eye twitches.
“Perhaps you should learn to trust a little, hmm?”
“Trust that this conversation will be had today!”
“Yeah, good luck with that.”
James clears his throat. "If I may -"
"You may not!" Regulus growls.
"Understood, my apologies."
Sirius startles upon suddenly being addressed. “Come, brother. It’s been a long day, and you need rest.” Avoiding Remus’s pointed stare, the Black heir rises to his feet… or tries to, anyways. “Have you forgotten how to use your legs?” Heart rate picking up, Sirius bends his knees to affirm he can, then flexes his feet and rotates his ankles. Three for three, an all-around resounding success. “Impressive. Now, let’s go.”
Yet for the life of him… Sirius cannot get up
“I’m stuck.”
“You are not stuck.” Regulus frantically shakes his head. “Your brain is just being funny from all the emotional stress you’ve been under -”
“I’m not too discombobulated to stand up, Reggie. I’m stuck stuck.” His laugh is hysterical, even to his own ears. “A fusion of two beautiful souls, my arse and the grass have become one. Though I do not remember consenting to this union, and am in fact, quite opposed.”
“You're magical, are you not? Unstick yourself!”
Sirius frowns. “Tried that, you sassy shit. But my magic isn’t working either… oh oops.” The fire he started in the bleachers is quickly doused, like it never happened. Because it didn’t, ‘twas but an illusion. “No one saw that.”
Okay, so Sirius’s magic mostly works. Yay, that’s nice. What isn’t nice? He’s still fucking stuck.
Regulus holds his hand out. Sirius takes it, thinking nothing of it… as a reward for his lack of forethought, his arm is nearly pulled out of its socket.
“That went differently in my head,” Regulus admits with a grimace.
“It’s alright, Reg,” Sirius says comfortingly. “I like my other arm better anyways.” What's another lie to add to the already overflowing pile? He'll start the 'be truthful, even if it hurts Reg's feelings' crusade tomorrow.
“I’m so sorry, brother. Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Do we need to pop it back into place?” Regulus beckons him closer. “Come, I can do it.”
“I can’t move, remember?… no no no, don’t come closer, that part is fine. Not fine is how I’m stuck.” Sirius lets out another crazed giggle. “Yuck, yuck, yuck, Siri is stuck.”
“Is this,” James waves a hand in Sirius’s general direction, “because of the concussion?”
“Not quite.”
“The answer to your question, Jamie, is drumroll please!... wow crikey, you lot suck. Heh, that rhymes with stuck. Which is what I am.” A lump forms in Sirius’s throat. “Oh my Godric, Reggie, I’m stuck.” Not again, not again, not again. “This is forbidden magic! Mother said so, didn’t she? Made a big stink about it, no one ever dared to try. Not even Bella.”
“I know, Siri, I remember. Breathe for me, yeah? I’ll get it sorted in a jiffy, you just work on your breathing and remaining calm.”
Inhaling deeply, Sirius lets the air out of his lungs in a short whoosh. “I am as calm as a cactus.”
“Are cactuses considered -”
“Shut it, James Potter!” Regulus snaps, before smiling serenely at his sibling. “You’re doing great, brother, keep up the outstanding work.” He gives him a thumbs up.
Sirius preens at the praise.
Watching Regulus’s frenzied pacing makes him dizzy, so he lowers his gaze and focuses on harnessing his magic to free him. It is mildly comforting to discover he isn’t the only one who talks to himself when faced with a challenging problem. It is not comforting in the slightest that his magic fails him, again. And again. And again.
Instances like this also highlight a significant, though much less talked-about downside to Blood Magic bonds; when they are both experiencing emotions so intense, it all ends up jumbled together, making it impossible to differentiate between whose emotions are whose. Fortunately, their connection is only one way, so his brother doesn’t suffer when Sirius’s emotions get out-of-whack (which is uhh… often). But Regulus’s anxiety regarding Sirius’s predicament is undoubtedly feeding into his own.
“Why are you two just standing there?! Help me!… help him… just bloody do something, you lazy sods!”
At his special-friend’s command, James jumps into action. “Have you tried ‘Finite Incantatem’?
“Do you think I’m an idiot, Potter? Be honest.”
“Don’t be honest,” Sirius stage-whispers. “It’s a trap.”
“I know you’re a genius, Reg, just gotta cover the bases. The counterspell for the Sticking Charm is ‘Unbindus Adhesio’... erm, I would do it, but you know….”
Regulus is gentler this time when he pokes his brother with his wand… which isn’t necessarily a good thing, since it makes Sirius squirm and giggle like a lunatic. “It’s not working! Potter, you try… Siri, you’re okay with your best mate trying, yeah?” The Black heir nods, because yep, he’d even let Grindelwald point a wand at him if it meant being unstucketh.
“Okay, so that didn’t work. Let’s try this… Siri, can I help you up?”
Fluttering his eyelashes, Sirius purrs, “Such a gentleman you are, Mister Potter.” He extends his (right) hand, but James doesn’t take it. Without warning, Sirius is grabbed by the armpits and hoisted upwards. “Eeek, what the fuck, bad touch, bad touch!”
“Sorry, sorry, thought that might work… ouch! You and your fucking Stinging Hexes, Siri, I swear.”
“You thought I was too weak to help my brother up, Potter?”
“Not weak … oww!” James grumbles. “What is with you two?”
“But not strong,” Sirius finishes sagely. “Thanks for cracking my back, by the way, mate.”
James sighs. “Anytime.”
His sweet baby brother’s eyes narrow, and then just like magic, he’s radiating nothing but pure homicidal rage. That tends to happen when Sirius gets stuck - murder.
But Regulus does not direct his ire at James…
“Lupin, what did you do?!”
“Remus?” James prods when the other teen stays silent. “You didn’t do this, right? I mean, I didn’t do this, and Reg clearly didn’t either, so… oh.”
Sirius makes the mistake of glancing up at James, and holy smokes, bad choice! The sun's rays collect around James to create a glowing halo of light above his head. It looks cool, incredibly so, Sirius won’t deny that, but bloody hell, it burns. Dropping his forehead to his knees, he blinks rapidly, hoping to soothe his stinging eyes, I’m gonna be as blind as him now, fuck.
He also doesn't miss how Remus put James perfectly back together again, erasing all of the damage accrued from their brawl. Sirius is simultaneously relieved and annoyed by this fact.
“We need to resolve this matter between you and Sirius today. Regulus, you are free to leave if you do not -”
Sirius’s head jerks up. “Don’t leave! Don’t leave me, Reggie, don’t leave, please, please don’t leave me here -”
Dropping to his knees, Regulus grabs his face. “I’m not leaving you, Siri, okay? Not while you’re… never while you’re stuck.” He dabs at Sirius’s tear-stained cheeks with the sleeve of his robe. “LUPIN, RELEASE HIM -”
“No.”
“You have overstepped so fucking far over the line of acceptability, you’re basically on another continent. Release him now, Remus Lupin, or I swear to the fates, you will suffer the consequences.”
“I will when he and James make amends.”
Whelp, too bad James hates me now, just like Evans does. And in time, Remus probably will as well.
“Looks like I’m permanently stuck.” Sirius feels the blood drain from his face. “Reg, I don’t want to be stuck anymore!”
“Shhh, Sirius, it’s okay, you’ll be free in just a second.”
“Remus, come on, mate, you’re hurting him!”
“Remus would never hurt me!” Sirius shouts at his best mate. “But Reggie, Reggie, please, please go get Mummy, she’ll make it better like last time, Reggie, please -”
“Sirius, we don’t need her. Besides, let’s be real, she’d make it worse -”
“I don’t care, so long as she fixes it! KREA-”
Sirius’s voice abruptly disappears, like poof, gone.
An indignant-Regulus scowls at Remus. Bewildered, Remus looks questioningly at James, who frowns at Sirius in concern… and Sirius, the smartest of them all, beams at his little brother.
After shaking the charm off, Sirius laments, “You'd get better at wandless and nonverbal magic just to shut me up, wouldn’t you, little star?”
“That wasn’t me.”
“Yes, it was,” the three Gryffindors say at the same time.
Tears welling up in his eyes, again, Sirius sniffs, “Can someone please free me? I’m sorry, okay? I’ll be a good boy and not hurt anyone, I promise, just let me go.”
“Remus, I refuse to talk to him against his will, so please, release him.”
Shuffling his feet, Remus opens his mouth, but Sirius speaks before he can say anything. After these last two weeks, he owes his boyfriend this.
“You know what, no, it’s fine, it’s fine. We can talk.” Okay, fuck, where to even start… guess apologizing and begging for forgiveness is the safest route. The next time Sirius and James are alone, he'll threaten his best mate within an inch of his life. It's a win-win! “I’m sorry for hitting you, James. I overreacted and shouldn’t have done that -”
In order for him to be directly in front of Sirius, James all but sits on top of Regulus, until the Slytherin irritably scoots away, that brat would have clawed me for doing the same thing! “No, Siri, I overreacted, and I deserved worse -”
“Mate, we are NOT the type of friends who kick the crap out of each other when they get upset, Remus said so. Which means, I was in the wrong.”
“Okay but -” James’s voice suddenly cuts off.
Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Regulus proudly proclaims, “I did that on purpose!”
“Great job, Reggie!” James claps along with Sirius. “Anywho, I am genuinely sorry for joining the Gobstones team without talking to you about it first. I confess, it was an impulsive decision, but I’ll hand in my resignation as soon as I’m free." If he wants to have any semblance of happiness these last three years, he needs to maintain the peace. No matter how much it fucking hurts, Sirius needs to maintain the peace. "Also, I’m sorry for making the last two weeks awkward as hell for you by refusing to make amends with Rem.” Hmm, still stuck. Okay, what else has he done recently? There’s surely more. “I’m sorry for thinking Evan would make a better husband for Regulus than you -”
“What?!” the youngest Black cries. “Why are you even thinking… you know what, I don’t want to know. Apologies, please continue.”
“That wasn’t very kind of me. I’m sorry for befriending your nemesis, who is actually mildly funny, and I’m sorry for being a bad friend to you in general. I’m sorry for spending the last four years tricking you into thinking I’m cool when I am in fact, very, very lame, but please,” he inhales sharply, “please tell me what to do to get unstuck, my butt hurts, and I think I’m about to throw up.”
Bottom lip trembling, James quietly asks, “Can I h-hug you?”
Holding his arms open in lieu of a verbal response, James then unceremoniously climbs into his lap. Sirius wheezes when he’s squeezed within an inch of his life.
“I would prefer it if you didn't throw up on me, but I’ll forgive you if you do… Sirius, you have nothing to apologize for, I was literally the worst and I deserved worse than you beating my face in! Please don’t quit the Gobstones team, not if that’s something you want to do. And I’ll talk to Michael, I’m sure I can convince him you’ll be fine by only attending one practice a week.”
Cheek pressed flat against James freakishly muscular chest, Sirius scrunches his nose. “I don’t… I don’t understand? It’s uncool. Hanging around someone who’s on the Gobstones team is going to make people think you are uncool, James.”
James leans back so he can look Sirius in the eye. “I don’t think that’s true, but if it is, I do not care! I don’t give a flying fuck if you’re on the Gobstones team if that’s what makes you happy, Sirius, and I will hex anyone and everyone who is even the tiniest bit mean to you about it. I freaked out when you told me because I feel like you’re… it’s like…” At a loss for words, he runs a hand through his hair, visibly agitated. “SIRIUS, I FEEL LIKE YOU’RE BREAKING UP WITH ME!”
Sirius blinks. “What?”
“What?” Regulus echoes, gobsmacked.
Struggling to keep a straight face, Remus simply shrugs when Sirius glances at him.
“Look at it from my perspective.”
Leaping to his feet, James proceeds to embark on an epic Black-style rant, complete with frantic pacing and hands waving wildly in the air. Concerned about accidentally getting in the way, Regulus rejoins his brother on the blanket. Sirius slings an arm over his shoulder, and they watch in silent awe as James explains how for the last two weeks, he’s felt like his best mate has been ‘starting a new life without him’. He assures Sirius he’s perfectly alright with him hanging out with his family and making friends in Slytherin, ‘except for Snape, I'm not gonna lie, I just really don't like that one, mate’.
“With you dating Rem now, which I’m ecstatic about, don’t get me wrong, and me courting Regulus, we’re NEVER going to have any time together! Quidditch has always been our thing, just you and me.” His shoulder slump. “But now that’s changed too, though I suppose it doesn’t matter, since over these last two weeks, I’ve demonstrated time and time again that I’m the worst friend ever -”
Trying to figure out how to respond to such tosh without offending James, Regulus, or Remus, Sirius side-eyes his brother. It’s a relief to find that Regulus isn’t looking accusingly at him, but their shared glance triggers an unfortunate response in the younger Slytherin.
“I’m not sure what I said that was so funny,” James gripes, plopping down on the grass in front of the brothers.
Remus winces. “So, laughing at inappropriate times is genetic, I see?”
“Yep,” Sirius confirms, brushing some loose curls off Regulus’s face, while the younger howls into his chest. “You should come to the next Black funeral. They’re always a hoot.”
“Sorry, m’sorry!” Uncurling himself from his brother’s side, Regulus dabs at his eyes with Sirius’s sleeve. “That’s… oh, Potter, you really are just a pretty face, huh? There’s absolutely nothing going on under that unruly mop of hair, is there?”
James grins charmingly. “You think my face is pretty?”
“He also thinks you’re dumber than a rock,” Sirius clarifies. “And your hair is inferior to ours.”
First part, not true, James is almost as bright as me. Second part? DEFINITELY true.
The smile quickly slips off his friend’s face. “By the way, you two are loads nicer when you’re apart from each other.”
“Potter, let's be reasonable for a moment, yeah? Sirius is obsessed with you!" Sirius almost argues that fact - not because it isn't true, but because it's weird - except Remus's gorgeous, teasing smile distracts him until it's too late. "Since your very first meeting, he has yet to shut up about you. It's absolutely dreadful to listen to him drone on and on about how wonderful you are. And I can assure you, it did not taper off at all during these last two weeks."
"Really?" James asks, glancing between the two Black brothers with wide eyes.
"Why is it only a crime when I fish for compliments?" Sirius grumbles.
"Uh huh." Regulus inclines his head towards Remus. “Honestly, I don’t know how you stand it.”
“I'm used to it. Also, James has never fancied Sirius. Even swore on his mum he only sees Siri as his best mate.” Remus shrugs. “At the end of the day, I trust them both.”
Regulus frowns. “Don’t you mean THEY have never fancied each other?”
Fuck, how does he know about that?! I have NEVER told a soul I used to fancy James, not even Marlene!... wait, Remus thought I was straight until yesterday. Fucking hell, phew!
“I thought Sirius fancied only girls until very recently.”
“Bespectacled gits aren’t my type.” Thankfully, this is enough to appease Regulus. “Anyways, my brother is pretty spot on, mate. I could never, ever replace you in my life, nor do I want to." He's still miffed about everything, but it's the truth. James completes him in a way no one else does, not even Remus. "I’m sorry if it came across like that.”
“Okay but -”
“My butt hurts,” Sirius shamelessly reminds everyone.
If he thought the drama was over for the day, well…
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW THE COUNTER-CHARM?!” Regulus shouts when Remus confesses he isn’t sure how to free Sirius.
Sirius and James have a quick, wordless exchange.
“What’s interesting, Mister Prefect,” James muses, crossing his arms over his broad chest, that poor shirt is at its limits, good Godric, “is that Padfoot and I distinctly remember receiving a lecture -”
“Multiple lectures,” Sirius corrects.
James nods. “Multiple lectures about using a spell on someone if we aren’t one-hundred percent positive we can actually perform the counter-spell.”
“YOU USED A PERMANENT STICKING CHARM ON MY BROTHER, A SPELL THAT CAN ONLY BE REMOVED BY THE PERSON WHO CAST IT, WITHOUT KNOWING THE COUNTER-CHARM?... NO, I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT IS, IT’S FORBIDDEN MAGIC IN OUR HOUSE!”
“If you kill him, I’ll never be free!” Sirius hastily reminds his brother when he whips his wand out.
“A little maiming never hurt anyone.”
“Reggie, repeat that sentence in your head -”
“IT’S A METAPHOR, SIRIUS!”
“It’s a metaphor, Sirius,” the Gryffindor-Black mutters mockingly to himself.
“Gosh, Sirius, how could you not know it was a metaphor?”
James and Sirius’s laughter comes to an abrupt end when Remus bursts into tears.
“I didn’t mean to cast the charm, I swear!” he sobs, shattering Sirius’s heart into tiny, miniscule pieces. He’s a wee bit jealous when James gets to be the one to wrap his boyfriend in an embrace. “I’m so s-sorry, Sirius, I swear, I’ll fix it!”
“YOU SURE AS SHITE WILL, LUPIN, OR ELSE -”
“Reggie.”
With a dark look, Regulus flings himself onto his stomach and covers his head with his arms. Knowing what’s about to come - he learned it from Sirius, after all - the Gryffindor swiftly casts an invisible bubble around the younger boy, followed by a Silencing Charm. He could use the spell directly on Regulus, but his brother needs to hear his own screams for it to be cathartic… the rest of them, however, do not need to hear a peep.
“Remus, it’s okay.”
Rubbing Regulus’s back with one hand, Sirius uses the other to summon the picnic basket towards him. He hums excitedly, finding additional treats inside, either Rem and James didn’t take everything out, or those nosy buggers down in the kitchens have been spying on us and knew we’d be in dire need of a snack after so much drama. His heart breaks even more for Reggie, who just wanted to peacefully fly his little broomstick around after nearly dying the day before.
“Sirius, it’s not okay!” Remus wails, sobbing into their friend's shoulder. James shares a panicked look with Sirius; since they first met, James Potter has comforted Sirius Black countless times, and Sirius has also comforted a distressed James Potter, albeit less frequently. But Remus doesn’t get visibly upset often, and he rarely ever cries… or at least, he rarely lets them see him this way. “Not only did I permanently stick you to the grass outside, but it’s obviously something you’re… something that reminds you of a traumatic event from your childhood!”
Yeah, that's rotten luck.
“Did you do it on purpose?”
“No -”
“Did you know I have a thing about being stuck?”
“Sort of -”
“You know I chafe at being required to stay in one spot, because I like to move around. This is not the same thing, though to a very small degree, I suppose it’s related. But only my family knows about it, and I am happy to inform you that it’s NOT their fault.”
“Small miracles.” Putting the muscles he gained this summer to good use, James strong-arms Remus into sitting next to Sirius, on the opposite side from Regulus. Then, to ensure another fight doesn’t break out, the Potter heir distracts his beloved vicious kitty with coffee and sweets as soon as he sits up. ”Is this like the claustrophobia thing?”
A few days ago, they were getting ready for bed when Regulus randomly asked Sirius if he was claustrophobic. When he responded in the negative, his little brother proceeded to inform him of his best mate’s incorrect conclusion, ‘I thought it was strange for him to believe that about you, considering how many times I’ve found you sulking under your bed, in your closet, the lavatory, Grandmother’s garden shed, that crawl space in Black Manor, among other such places’. Sirius brushed it off as James making it up to justify asking Regulus if he was claustrophobic, but talk about a mortifying observation!
Without thinking it through, Sirius whines, “I’m not claustrophobic, James, I’m gay!”
“First of all, how do those two things go together?” James’s brows furrow, oh shite, oh shite, oh SHITE. “Sometimes, it was just us, but you’d still get… oh… oh.”
Fucking hell, kill me now.
“Heh, so back to my childhood trauma -”
“I’d rather hear about your crush on Potter,” Regulus interjects. “Right, Lupin?”
“I’ve never -”
Sipping his coffee, Remus half-shrugs. “Who hasn’t fancied James at some point?”
“Pardon?”
“It was like a month in second year,” Sirius’s boyfriend says. “After, you know…” They confronted him about being a werewolf. “You?”
“Two or so months in first year,” Sirius sniffs, exaggerating the truth a wee bit. What’s two compared to eight, anyhow? It's basically the same thing.
Perhaps noticing how quiet Regulus has gotten, James gently bumps their shoulders together. “Well, can’t deny this isn’t spectacular for the ego, but I’m afraid I must let you down gently, lads. My first and only boy crush is sitting right here on this blanket with us.”
In the name of getting along, Sirius decides not to point out the lie… James’s first boy crush was that prat Pierre Legrand, him fancying Regulus really is SUCH an upgrade.
Sirius does, however, scoff, “Yourself?”
“No, you git. The Regulus Black.”
"Ah, awkward. My first boy crush was Justin Fawley."
In the name of getting along, Sirius decides not to point out his brother's lie.
"What, why? He's so... meh."
Sirius is disappointed to report that James does not get clawed once during their snack break. He does get a long lecture about how great Fawley is, though, so it's basically the same thing.
After scarfing down a frightening amount of sugary treats and draining two cups of coffee each, Regulus and Remus leave for the library. Sirius can’t help but smile as he watches them walk away, Regulus’s strides so long and angry, the taller Gryffindor struggles to keep up. His brother offered to stay behind instead, but Sirius declined, claiming Regulus will have better luck at sweet-talking the librarian into finding the exact book they need without fuss. It’s mostly true; the woman loves Remus, but due to his associations (i.e. being friends with Sirius and James), she’s more likely to ask questions they don’t have time for. But mostly, he wants to talk to James without fear of the other two hearing something they shouldn’t.
Sirius awkwardly clears his throat. “Um… just so we’re clear, I uhh… I don’t hate you. At all. Like not even a little bit.” That's the weirdest threat I think I've ever made. "I am genuinely sorry that instead of being like 'Mate, why are you being like this?', I you know..." He mimes a punch.
“I’m grateful you don't hate me, but mate... you REALLY should." James sprawls out on his back beside Sirius. "I was so out of line! I hate me.”
“It was a prick move," Sirius agrees. "But it would be awfully hypocritical of me to hate you for lashing out when you thought you were being replaced in my life, when I did the exact same thing to Reg." He pokes James in the stomach. "Just don't do anything like that ever again."
James crosses his heart. "Please promise you'll punch me in the face if it EVER even sort of seems like I'm about to."
"Deal." They shake hands.
"Can I ask you something? You can tell me to piss off if it's too personal."
Knowing what's about to come and having no desire to discuss it, Sirius still finds himself saying, "Always."
"Sirius, why do you think you're lame?" And this is why I don't gamble. "Is it the Gobstones thing? Because if so, I am really sorry for what I said, I swear I didn't mean it, I do not have strong feelings about Gobstones in either direction. But you are literally the coolest person I know, which is saying a lot, because I know Moony."
"He is really cool, isn't he?" Sirius asks dreamily.
James lightly pinches his side. "I shouldn't have brought Remus up, I know how distracted you get. That's on me."
"That is correct," Sirius agrees with a smirk. "But yes, it was because of that. My other deepest darkest secret is my obsession with Gobstones."
Yeah, the whole 'a day will come where I can be my entire true self without fear' thing?... absolutely NOT happening.
He's done enough Honesty for this year, he can wrap it up. And if Sirius has to hide a good portion of his personality for the rest of his Hogwarts career, so be it. Hell, at this rate, he may do so for the rest of his life, at least whenever he's around non-Blacks!
James stares at him for a stressfully long time.
"I love you, Sirius."
The Gryffindor-Black doesn't think he'll ever get used to how easily his friends say those three words.
"I love you too, James."
Sirius nearly has a full-blown panic attack when his boyfriend is unable to lift the charm right away. But with Remus becoming increasingly upset after each failed-attempt, he has to keep it together for his love... difficult, since emotional control is NOT Sirius Black's thing. But he thinks he does okay.
And at least he's loyal!
"You didn't flick your wrist correctly just then, Lupin. How many times do I have to show you, it goes like this!"
"Regulus, he did it perfectly. I know you're stressed," because so am I, "but maybe we would get better results if YOU stopped breathing down his neck? You're being massively unfair."
"What's massively unfair is the horrible Latin tutoring Lupin received! Robbed blind by a con artist, your parents were. Your mum should write a letter to the Ministry and demand that thief be stripped of their qualifications posthaste!"
"Regulus, most kids growing up did not have tutors besides their parents. And anyways, he pronounced everything correctly."
"Oh, so you didn't have a Latin tutor, Lupin? Hmm, interesting..."
"And we do not judge people for that, ESPECIALLY given our own history with tutors."
That rips the wind right out of Regulus's sails, ha!
"I'm so s-sorry, Sirius. I'll get it right, I swear."
Sirius waves a hand dismissively. "Would be silly of me to get all pissy about your ONE incident of Accidental Magic when you've suffered through like a hundred of mine."
It's James who then bizarrely suggests, "Sirius, why don't you give it a go?"
Too strung out to argue, Sirius half-heartedly mutters the new counter-spell he just learned, even waving his wand a bit to make it look like a full-fledged effort.
...
.....
.......
"Wow, a Mind Healer would REALLY have a field day with me."
The lone Slytherin smiles sweetly. "Lovely news. So, pick-up game?"
Sirius should have known better than to say yes when Regulus grabbed the Beater's Bat. Even with their Blood Magic bond, Sirius doesn't reign triumphant at the end of the 'match' (a blow to his ego, for sure). But it's actually kind of worth it in the end?
Because Remus is both loyal AND sweet enough to kiss Sirius's booboos better. And with his skill at Healing charms, they didn't need to make another trip back to the Hospital Wing (James's few injuries were patched by Regulus... which might have been favoritism, or because he bowed out of the 'match' long before Sirius did).
Notes:
Omg I am sooo sorry for the long wait, this chapter wasn't part of my original draft, and I got stuck... heh... while writing it. I hope you can forgive me since it's like 18k!
Also, in a week or two, there will be a little one-shot prequel fic about the first time Sirius got 'stuck' :)
Chapter 38: Larson Travers, and his (Very Much Deserved) No Good, Very Bad Day
Notes:
Travers is heavily featured in this chapter, so I feel like that's an automatic trigger warning... be prepared for some pretttty terrible things to come out of his mouth.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Obscured by the shadow of a giant oak tree, Padfoot paces in the grass, waiting.
Fun fact! In both forms, human and canine, Sirius hates waiting.
After breakfast, he granted his stubborn baby brother a five minute head start to ‘go for a walk... alone." Remus, smartly realizing it was futile to try and talk Sirius out of his plan to watch over Regulus from afar, warned him to stay hidden, lest he damage the trust he's slowly been rebuilding with his brother. As always, his boyfriend… Godric, Sirius will NEVER get tired of referring to Remus as his boyfriend… was right. But let it not be forgotten that Sirius Orion Black III is also a genius; he doesn’t need an Invisibility Cloak, a Disillusionment Charm, or any other spells to avoid detection (with that being said, he did temporarily borrow the Cloak from James... without permission... mostly to ensure his friend didn’t do something stupid in his own right, but also because a wise Marauder knows the importance of having at least two backup plans at the ready whenever the task is particularly risking/challenging).
Utilizing his extensive knowledge of the castle and grounds, Padfoot didn’t pass Regulus on the way to the lake. But thanks to their blood bond, he can sense his brother’s location… and yep, just as predicted, Regulus’s ‘walk’ takes him straight to the pier.
Sirius now has vivid, crystal-clear understanding regarding where Madam Pomfrey was coming from with her barking-mad suggestion. He’s still not too keen on it, mostly because Regulus INSISTS on walking across the pier by himself. But last night, Sirius saw firsthand how Regulus’s fear has grown, saw just how tightly it's wrapped itself around his brother, suffocating, all-encompassing. He doesn’t blame Regulus for it, of course. Sirius can't even begin to imagine what was going through his brother's mind while he was in the water. And considering Regulus has been petrified of drowning for literally his entire life... oh, one way or another, Travers is going to pay for what he did to Regulus. Sirius will make sure of it.
Despite all the drama on the pitch yesterday (he made both Remus and James promise to hex him if he ever suggested having a picnic again), the four of them had a blast flying around, staying outside well into the evening. After Sirius finally conceded his brother was the winner of their 'pick-up match' (aka, Remus threatened to leave the pitch if Sirius was gonna keep being a 'brainless, overly-proud oaf', because 'I have no interest in watching my boyfriend get the stuffing beat out of him', which rude, it wasn't THAT bad), he only needed to wait a few minutes before Regulus was fully absorbed in another round of flirty bickering with James. When he was certain his brother was not paying a lick of attention to him (again, rude, but since it was also useful, Sirius let it go. Because he's mature like that, no matter what Mother wants to claim), Sirius discreetly pulled Remus to the side. With one eye on his brother, he quietly grilled his clever boyfriend about how exactly he modified their sink in Gryffindor a few years back, so he could wash Sirius’s hair during his… Bad Month. Maybe it was his older brother instincts kicking in, or some innate paranoia that those wretched fates weren't done making Reg's day more difficult than it needed to be, but he had this nagging feeling the drama wasn't over.
It's one of those rare times where Sirius really wished he wasn't right.
But that 'unfulfilled wishes' pile was greedy for more.
By the time the brothers returned to the castle, they were disgusting, covered in a lovely mixture of dirt and sweat (and probably a bit of blood, at least in Sirius's case). They passed Crouch in the Common Room, who revealed Evan was 'kidnapped' by his sisters the moment they laid eyes on him. The girls dragged him off in the direction of the Lady Snakes dorms, saying it was 'evident we to keep a better eye on our baby brother'. Regulus and Crouch rolled their eyes at this, while Sirius rolled his eyes at them... they really just do NOT understand what it's like to be the older sibling, huh?
Entering the fourth-year-boys' dorm, Sirius proposed his wondrous idea to his brother as soon as they crossed the threshold; Regulus could have a quick rinse under the spray to clean the grime off his body, then Sirius would wash his hair in the sink. The suggestion was made in part to deter Regulus from asking the questions that were surely percolating in his big 'ole brain - Sirius needed time to think of how he was going to explain his bizarre behavior when Regulus inevitably decided to interrogate him - but he also knew it was a brilliant, albeit temporary solution to his brother's clear reluctance to shower (Sirius HATES being dirty, so he wanted to shower in the locker room before they headed back to the castle. Regulus politely dismissed this idea, saying he prefers the shower in his dorm, which... Sirius didn't need their Blood Magic bond to catch that lie. The locker room showers are bloody fantastic. Neither of their dorms can compare, no matter how many spells Sirius puts on the showerhead). But Regulus only stared at him blankly, so Sirius went on the explain his reasoning - hair washing was the most time consuming aspect of any shower, at least for Blacks, and it was also the part that required closing your eyes while water cascaded down your head. But doing it in the sink meant none of that. Totally brilliant, yeah?
Oh boy, Regulus did NOT think so. He complained, of course he did, said he wasn't going to let anyone baby him anymore, yada yada, 'It doesn't MATTER if only you and I know about it, Sirius. I'm not a little boy. Showering and washing my hair is not the big deal you're making it into.' Then out of the blue, Regulus asked Sirius if he wanted to see the giant book about shipwrecks he bought for Evan in Hogsmeade last year, like duh, how is that a question?! Gimme! While Sirius was distracted, Regulus barricaded himself in the lavatory, locking the door and blocking it with his desk chair. Six minutes. That’s how long Sirius lasted, the panic so thick through their bond, he thought his own heart was going to stop. Rather than break down the door and scare the shite out of his brother in the process, Sirius had the genius idea to ask Hogwarts if she could help… before he could blink, the door just… disappeared, reappearing in place the moment he was on the other side.
It was another sight that will forever be seared into Sirius’s mind. Huddled in the corner of the shower, as far away from the spray as he could possibly get, Regulus's knees were pulled to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around his shins. His skin was deathly pale, his gaze unfocused, chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. It took Sirius more than twenty minutes to get Regulus to come back to himself, and an additional fifteen for his brother’s heart-wrenching sobs, filled with apology after apology, to taper off. Eventually, he accepted the initial plan, with the only difference being that he showered with Sirius chattering non-stop by his side, in a bid to keep his mind elsewhere.
They took turns waking each other up that night with their relentless nightmares. Blimey, given such horribleness, Sirius would rather have been bombarded with question after question about all the strange things he and James said that afternoon! Groggy and grumpy, he shamelessly whined that they stay in bed all morning, 'It's a Sunday, little star, it's a day meant for slothness!' But his brother was adamant about going to breakfast. Sigh.
Remaining stock-still, Padfoot watches silently as Regulus comes closer. The urge to wag his tail is overwhelming, but he’s afraid if he moves a single muscle, he’ll alert Regulus to his presence. Paranoid? Probably. Why would it matter if Regulus saw him? There’s no way he’ll deduce it's Sirius underneath all this beautiful, fluffy fur! Besides, Regulus likely wouldn’t notice any movement, considering how his gaze is trained firmly on his feet. Even in canine form, Sirius can hear Grandfather shrieking, ‘Lift your head, boy! What Black in their right mind walks without confidence?!’
Maybe it’s a coincidence, maybe it’s bad luck. But right as the younger Slytherin passes the tree Padfoot tucked himself under, he lifts his head.
Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Sirius’s human thoughts scream when Regulus freezes in place, eyes widening. Fuck, okay, he loves animals, even the scary ones… act like a dog, approach slowly, wag your tail, you’re a good boy, yes, the best boy, you can do it, he doesn’t know it’s you.
“Hullo, there,” Regulus greets with a strained half-smile. “So… it's time, huh? Officially?”
Tilting his head to the side, Padfoot lets out a quiet whine. Ideally, it says, pet me, please, or at least conveys his confusion (a confusion shared by his canine and human self). Like it has a mind of its own, his tail starts wagging eagerly. But Regulus doesn’t approach. In fact… he looks like he’s about to faint.
Concerned, Padfoot whines again.
“Didn’t think it would be so soon… but of course, when things go right... should have expected this.” His brother absentmindedly chews on his bottom lip (a return of another terrible childhood habit, Sirius’s human brain notes. Where are his thumbs when he needs 'em?!). Regulus's tumultuous emotions are impossible to decipher, even with the assistance of their bond. “I’m sure you have better places to be, but I… would you mind if I come back in a bit, please? I need to take care of… take care of some things first. If that’s alright? I won't be long, I p-promise.”
Woof!
Regulus going back to the castle, far away from the horror that is this cursed lake? Why, Padfoot couldn’t ask for anything more!
Okay, there’s one teensy-weensy thing Padfoot could ask for. He’s rather offended when he gets zero pets, especially since Reg is notorious for petting things that no one pets, including the thestrals that pull the carriages, knarls, bowtruckles… once, he legitimately tried to pat Abraxas Malfoy’s temperamental runespoor, until Sirius caught him mid-reach and swiftly put an end to that nonsense. Does Regulus not think Padfoot is a good boy? To look the part of an adorable stray, he panted with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, for Merlin’s sake! Does anyone grasp how demeaning that is?! Padfoot is NOT a stray! He’s a domestic, pure… wait, nope, not going there.
Personal grievance aside, his brother’s sudden about-face is worrisome. There’s something there, something important Sirius is missing. He just can’t fucking figure out what it is!
Returning to the castle proves to be a much bigger challenge than leaving it was. First, Padfoot is derailed by a tiny Ravenclaw first-year, who feeds him croissants from the pockets of her robes, all while offering a seemingly endless supply of behind-the-ear scritches. His intent was to run past her, but the allure of baked goods overcame all rational thought. Absolutely no part of him questions why she carries pastries in her pockets; they’re delicious, and he needs to be more like her when he’s back on two legs.
Padfoot finally catches up to Regulus near the library. Whilst he was distracted from the mission by sugary goodness, this brother had been busy, making stops in his dorm and the kitchens (their blood bond is so bloody useful, heh).
What’s going on in your head, little brother?! Sirius thinks to himself, frustrated with the lack of answers. Pawing open a nearby broom closet, he steps out moments later on two feet, the Invisibility Cloak tossed over his head. Assuming he realizes it's gone, at least I’ll be able to tell James I legitimately needed the Cloak... nah, who am I kidding, he definitely noticed I nicked it from him.
Crikey, who knew this school had so many swots? It’s not even October, yet the library is overflowing with students, which makes moving around invisibly a certifiable bitch. Utilizing a combination of delicate maneuvering and a hefty amount of Confundus Spells, Sirius finds Regulus tucked away in the Blood Magic section, bent over a roll of parchment, scribbling furiously. Naturally, the youngest Black situated himself in such a way that even while invisible, Sirius can’t get close enough to read whatever he’s writing without risking exposure. A pity, too. He’s positively burning with curiosity.
Waiting for Regulus to finish is super boring, but a worthy distraction soon presents itself.
“It’s me,” Sirius whispers with an unseen smirk, slipping into the open seat next to his favorite swot (a ranking that is shared with Reggie, of course). Remus is practically impossible to sneak up on thanks to his enhanced werewolf senses, so how could he be expected to pass up such a rare opportunity? “You look so gorgeous when you’re lost in a book, has anyone ever told you that, Moonbeam?”
“Can’t say they have.” Remus covertly kicks him in the shin, the beautiful bastard. “How’d it go?”
“Bad,” Sirius admits through clenched teeth. Fucking werewolves. “Rem, I fucked up. I’m not even sure how, but I did, and now I don’t know how to fix it, because I don’t know what I did wrong in the first place, and I’m just so tired of never being able to do anything right, it’s so... grrrrr!”
Readjusting his position in the uncomfortable library chair, Remus lightly bumps their shoulders together. The contact instantly soothes some of Sirius’s ire. “Hey, you get plenty right, much more than you get wrong. We’ll figure this out together, okay? How about you tell me what happened?... including why you’re invisible, if you don’t mind.”
Recounting the morning to his boyfriend (eeeee!) doesn’t generate any sudden epiphanies, unfortunately… probably because the story essentially amounts to, ‘Regulus saw Padfoot. Then said some weird, confusing things. Did NOT give any pets out, very upsetting!! And then he hightailed it back to the castle to do more confusing things.’ (Sirius doesn’t mention his new Ravenclaw friend for one simple reason; to avoid revealing how he knows about Regulus’s pit stops to Slytherin and the kitchens before coming to the library. It has absolutely nothing to do with being ashamed for succumbing to his canine instincts, not at all).
Remus spends a minute or two silently contemplating Sirius’s latest fuck-up, while Sirius spends that same time contemplating how gorgeous his boyfriend is. “Siri… how superstitious would you say your brother is?”
What a silly question!
“Uhh, have you seen that boy?” Sirius exclaims, remembering last minute to keep his voice down. “Pets every black cat he sees, thinks it’s terrible luck not to! I could go on for eternity with examples, but what makes you ask?”
“Between what I’ve observed and also gathered from James, there’s a high probability that -”
“Lupin?” a voice calls softly from behind them, startling both Gryffindors. "Erm, Remus, I mean."
Remus whips around. “Regulus! Er… hi, um, hello?”
The Slytherin frowns. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No, not at all, no!” Underneath the cloak, Sirius facepalms at how unsuave his boyfriend is acting right now. “I just... ya know. Talk to myself when I’m reading. Helps me retain the information.”
“Ah, I see," Regulus nods. "My brother does that too.”
Remus smiles fondly. “Yeah -”
“It’s rather annoying, actually.” Words hurt, has no one ever taught Regulus that?! “But speaking of my peculiar sibling, have you seen him around?”
“Not since breakfast. Is something the matter?”
Gray eyes scan the surrounding area, almost nervously, though his charming grin is enough to send the strict librarian’s suspicious gaze elsewhere. “No, I just… “ Regulus steps closer to Remus, clearly worried of being overheard, “you’ll look after him, right?”
“What do you mean?"
Yes, little star, what precisely are you implying?!
Sirius doesn’t think his brother is trying to be mean, but he’s being weird, the bad kind of weird, and it’s making an uneasy pit form in his tummy.
“Sirius likes you,” Regulus says in a rush, cheeks blushing a delicate pink. “I mean, he really, really likes you, to a disgusting degree in all truthfulness, it’s admittedly kind of embarrassing how into you he is -”
“Regulus -”
Twisting his hands in the fabric of his robes, the younger Slytherin winces. “Oh Salazar, I swear I mean it in a good way! It’s embarrassing on Sirius's part how obsessed with you he is, like you’re the magnificent, shining sun, and he’s a tiny insignificant planet whose entire existence relies solely on you. I was shocked he survived so long without your company, and he hid his moping really well -”
This is mortifying, Remus does not need to hear how obsessed Sirius is with him, what the fuck, Regulus!
Knowing his brother as well as he does, Sirius is distinctly aware that he could continue on with his anxious rambling for hours if no one interrupts him - and that just won’t do! Ensuring his foot is covered, Sirius kicks his boyfriend’s leg.
“Regulus!” Remus says, probably louder than he intended.
“Sorry!” Inhaling deeply through his nose, Regulus lets the air out slowly. “All of that aside, what’s more important is that you’re good for him. My brother walks around pretending that nothing bothers him, that he’s above having emotions like the rest of us plebes, but absolutely nothing could be further from the truth. Surely you’ve realized that by now, especially after yesterday's debacle.” Uhhh, wow, okay this might be a worse direction. Sirius unconsciously sticking himself to the grass is NOT something they should bring up ever again. Like never ever, ever. “But Sirius needs someone like you in his life, someone who sees beneath his mask, sees through the façade he wears like armor, someone who will steadfastly remain at his side when it matters most, even when it’s difficult. Even when he’s difficult… especially when he’s difficult.”
“Regulus -”
“There is no one in this world more deserving of unconditional love than my brother. And I know you love him as a mate, but he deserves so much more than that. And I genuinely believe he can find that in you.” Furiously blinking away the wetness in his eyes, Sirius puts his hand over his mouth as a reminder to stay quiet… because what the fuck, where is this coming from?! Blacks don’t do emotional speeches, something his brother has reminded him time and time again. “Please, please promise me you’ll hear Sirius out whenever he mucks up. It’s bound to happen at some point, but I swear on our name, our beauty, our riches, and my friend group, that my brother would NEVER purposefully do anything to hurt you.”
Oh fuck... is this Regulus predicting that I'm about to self-sabotage my relationship already?!
Remus very carefully does not look in Sirius’s direction when he says, “I promise, Regulus. And I can assure you, I like your brother just as much as he likes me.”
Sirius is mildly comforted by how sassy his sibling looks - maybe things aren’t as bad as originally thought? “Respectfully, I highly doubt it.”
The older Gryffindor smirks. “Respectfully, I highly disagree. But are you sure everything is alright?”
“Yes, thank you, everything is… lovely.” Regulus's ‘relaxed’ smile does not meet his eyes. "I would, however, like to apologize again for yesterday -"
"And again, you don't need to. I understand where you were coming from. Besides, yesterday was such a mess," an understatement if there ever was one, "none of us were at our best by the end of it."
“Alright, if you're sure..."
"I am," Remus says firmly.
A smidgeon of tension is erased from Regulus's face. "Okay, then I apologize for interrupting your studying." Both brothers smirk at Remus's unimpressed expression. "If you would be so kind, can you point me in the direction of where I might find one James Potter at this hour, please?”
“I can’t say with absolute certainty, but seeing as how James would literally rather die -” Regulus flinches backwards like he’s been slapped, “... than miss a meal -”
“Great Hall,” the Slytherin finishes, spinning on his heel. “Good talk, thanks!”
“You always did say your brother was rather odd,” Remus muses after the younger teen leaves. “That was unusual even for him, though, right? Merlin and Morgana, please say yes.”
“What. The. Everlasting. Fuck.”
With Remus hot on his heels, Sirius removes the Invisibility Cloak in a secret passageway, storing it safely within the inner-pocket of his robe. They reach the Great Hall in record time, but Remus reports that Regulus somehow beat them there anyways… long legs, ugh, so unfair! (Remus absolutely could have caught up to Regulus on his own, but he always matches whatever pace Sirius sets. Someone... not Sirius!... is obviously using Necromancy to bring back chivalry from the dead.)
Maybe it’s because of the dark storm clouds rolling in, maybe it's because Sirius is cursed to suffer a life of never-ending inconveniences, but it's as if every single slow walker in this castle (which is a fuck ton of people, mind you) decided to go to lunch at the same time. Stuck in the doorway leading into the dining hall, Sirius dusts off his Black Arithmancy skills to do some quick calculations regarding the consequences of cursing the chit-chatting squadron of Hufflepuffs in front of them. Right as he’s made the choice - curse now, ask for forgiveness later - the hall goes deathly silent.
“What’s happening?” Holding tightly to Remus’s hand, Sirius stands on his tippy toes to try and see what’s got everyone freaked out, but there are too many freakishly tall people in front of him. Has he ever mentioned he thinks he's cursed? Cuz this proves it!
“Your brother is stalking towards James, really threateningly-like, who has stood up, and… holy fucking god…”
“Not helpful, Remus!”
Ah, fuck it.
Sirius shamelessly shoves an older, probably half-giant Hufflepuff bloke out of the way… a regret! Yep, definitely a regret. Not because he feels bad about the action, but because he gets to witness his baby brother and best mate sharing a passionate snog in the middle of the Great Hall. Regulus even goes so far as to dip James in a frighteningly romantic gesture. Doesn’t even drop the bulkier Gryffindor either, sets him right back on his feet without breaking a sweat!
“Well, would you look at that?!” a voice drawls from behind them, one that causes a bundle of rage to ignite within Sirius's soul. “Only two Blacks who can continue the family line, and they’re both fairies! Oh Merlin, this is too fucking good to be true!”
You made a promise to Regulus, he forcefully reminds himself. Older brothers don’t go back on their word.
Turning to face the scumbag who tried to kill his baby brother, Sirius is immensely grateful to have Remus’s reassuring presence at his side. “Thankfully, no one has to worry about you bringing spawn into the world, considering you can’t even get a girlfriend.”
There’s an appreciative chuckle from the students surrounding them.
Travers's nostrils flare. “I have standards -"
"Yeah? So does everyone else. Hence why you're still single."
"Unlike you, I'm not bloody desperate!" the swine sneers. "I'm not going to lower myself by dating a Halfblood... and certainly not a blood traitor, like that pathetic wuss you call a brother!”
What the fuck did he just call Regulus?!
“HEY!” a girlish voice shouts from the crowd, and then suddenly Maryse Smith is there, after brazenly elbowing a seventh-year Ravenclaw out of the way. “Keep Regulus’s name out of your big fat mouth!”
“Who are -”
“Rather bold of you to insult him like that, when you’re nothing but an ugly maggot, who’s dead from the neck up and has about as much personality as peeling wallpaper!”
Ohhhhh shite, Sirius thinks gleefully to himself. You go girl!
The older Slytherin snorts derisively. “You don’t know the first thing about your hero, you stupid girl! Go run along and play with your dolls while the grownups talk.”
Next to the Hufflepuff first-year, Wylan Honeywood scowls fiercely at Travers. “Don’t talk to her like that, you waste of flesh! You wish you were as talented and smart as Regulus, but sadly, you’re rather lacking,” his gaze trails down the older Slytherin’s frame, making the true meaning of his remark glaringly obvious, despite finishing with, “in the brain department.”
On Friday, when James and Sirius were chatting outside (before everything went to shit), his best mate asked him for a recommendation letter to give his ‘campaign for Presidency of the Regulus Black Fan Club' more credibility. Sirius thought his friend was pulling his leg. Now, looking at the outraged faces of students surrounding Maryse and Wylan, who derive from all four houses, not just Slytherin… he isn’t so sure.
Flushing with fury, Travers jerks his head towards Nott and Avery 2, who raise their wands, only to have dozens more pointed at them in return. And standing directly in front of Avery 2 is a person Sirius never would have expected to see after his brother’s stunt with a certain Gryffindor bloke.
“I’ve always found it rather queer, if you will, how bloody obsessed you are with Regulus Black, Larson.” Sofia Avery inclines her head towards Avery 1, the oldest of the three siblings. “Don’t you agree, Ty?”
“He isn't -”
“Nobody asked for your opinion, Jordan!” Sofia snaps at Avery 2, who glowers at his sister but holds his tongue. “Get your wand out of my face, before I shove it up your -”
Like he’s done it a thousand times before, Ty swiftly steps between the two. “She’s got a point, Jordan, you know she does. And there’s no denying Sophs is an expert on that topic.” Perhaps Sirius is just biased, but the fourth-year girl’s 'innocent' smile has an ominous undertone to it. “Do you genuinely think she’s mistaken?”
Looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, Avery 2 stammers, “Er… well… ‘obsessed’ is a strong word, but... uhh... you do pay him a lot of attention, Lars -”
“Your nutcase sister is obsessed with that freak, not me!”
Neither Avery sibling gets a chance to respond.
“Sounds fake,” Maryse says, around an honest-to-Merlin yawn. “Jeez, you lowlife creeps sure like calling people names, huh?”
Oh, Grandmother Melania would adopt this girl in a heartbeat, so long as her git of an older brother wasn’t included in the deal... hell, even then, she probably still would!
Peeling himself away from the onlookers, Michael McKinnon whispers something to Maryse (her ‘I can take a pillock like him any day!’ response is NOT quiet, and garners amused chuckles from those within hearing range). Shaking his head, he tosses the spitfire Hufflepuff over his shoulder and carries her away.
“You’re a spineless worm with a face like chewed toffee!” she shrieks, flipping Travers the bird. “GET BENT!”
The Prewett twins cover their Captain’s back while herding Wylan, Willow Greengrass, Heather Gleason, Mason Summers, and the rest of Regulus’s younger squad of admirers towards a safer vantage point. Sofia sends them such a withering look when they try to get her to leave, Sirius internally winces, she would have eaten Regulus alive if they got married, every single one of us Blacks dodged an AK there.
“It’s only a matter of time now until the Blacks fall from grace, and a better, worthier family can step in to make some much needed changes in the wizarding world.”
“Aw, Larson, I’m pleased to hear you’ve finally accepted what everyone else knew all along,” Sirius says in his haughtiest, most supercilious tone. He accessorizes it with a matching smirk. "That we’re better than you.”
Taking a threatening step closer, Travers hisses, “Your lot is no better than the dirt on the bottom of my shoe! Actually… are you even still a Black, Sirius? Mummy and Daddy haven't gotten around to disowning you yet?”
“Funny you should bring that up!” Sirius proudly shows off his new (to him) Black family ring. The Purebloods who recognize the significance of it gasp, including Travers, though he tries to hide it behind a cough. “Father dearest gave this to me just yesterday.” Switching it up, Sirius twirls a lock of hair around his finger with a ditzy giggle. “Heh, only a matter of time until you’ll all be calling me Lord Black, won’t that be splendid?”
What’s legitimately funny is how a handful of weeks ago, Sirius would have despised the idea of wearing a Black heirloom, especially in public. Now look at him!
“It won’t matter what your title is!” Travers snarls. “The Blacks will lose their place in proper society once everyone finds out you and your brother are shirt lifters who consort with Mudbloods and blood traitors alike! Or are you planning a desperate attempt to hold power by really muddling the lines on the family tapestry?” His eyes drift past Sirius’s shoulder to land on Regulus, who’s finally begun to untangle himself from James.
… he’s not suggesting what Sirius thinks he's suggesting, right? Right?!
“I mean, it would explain why you’re so horrendously overprotective of him… the thought of an outsider sullying the goods must be horribly distressing to you, huh?”
Evidently, Sirius is not alone in his belief.
“Keep your disgusting fantasies to yourself, you sick fuck!” Evan shouts from somewhere in the sea of students.
Cheers to that! The brotherly incest jokes are not on.
The former-Slytherin Beater doesn’t react to Evan’s comment, but around him, a few of his goons shift uneasily. Separating himself from the pack, Ty Avery goes to stand beside his sister in solidarity.
“Toujours Pur, isn’t that the Black family motto?”
“Watch yourself, Travers,” Sirius growls. “You’ll find I’m not anywhere near as forgiving as my sibling.”
Travers, in fact, does not watch himself, and instead proceeds to dig his own grave. “Trying to keep that one pure… well, talk about an incredibly difficult endeavor! I don’t envy you there, Black. But you’ve gotta wonder… is it worth the effort?”
Sirius’s vision starts to bleed red. “Last chance… do you really want to go there?”
The older teen grins maliciously. “See, I get the impression that little Black is an easier lay than those two-sickle rent-boys in Knockturn Alley.” His perverted, lecherous gaze returns to Regulus. Then, almost like it’s an unconscious gesture, his tongue sweeps across his bottom lip. “And if you ask nicely, Sirius, I might leave some left over for you.”
Remus says something to him in a low voice, but Sirius can’t hear it over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. Breathing in deeply through his nose, he tries to push his turbulent emotions down, don’t rise to the bait, you know he’s baiting you, but it’s a losing battle. He’s never been good at the whole 'self-control' thing. That’s Regulus’s area of expertise. Quite frankly though, Sirius isn’t too fussed about losing control in this instance, consequences be damned.
“He is fourteen!” Narcissa’s voice emanates from the crowd, her shrill words piercing enough to break through the fog in his head. “Barely!”
Andromeda doesn’t need to push her way to the front of the students encircling them; they part for her and Narcissa without complaint. “You’re severely out of line, Larson. Now, either take a seat or leave the hall, but this show is over.”
“Would you shut it, you daft cow?!” Travers snaps, his lip curling when his gaze lands on the brunette. The students around them gasp, several crying out in offense. “Merlin, are you tiring! Neither you nor your sister are suitable replacements for Bellatrix, who had proper values and knew the right order of things. It’s bad enough that the Ice Bitch openly consorts with a Mudblood, but you took it further by spreading your legs for one! You like to play coy, Andromeda, but I always knew you were just another slag gagging for a cock.”
Not even Narcissa can contain her shock at the brashness of this arsehole.
Andromeda, though?
Fuck, maybe Regulus was right when he said she was the scariest.
“NO ONE DISRESPECTS MY COUSINS LIKE THAT AND GETS AWAY WITH IT!”
Sirius’s magic curls around him, vicious, ready to strike. They cannot let this slander stand, surely his brother will understand. Besides, if they’re gonna be technical about it, he only promised not to seek revenge on Regulus’s behalf - this is revenge on their cousins’ behalf.
Semantics, gotta love 'em.
Right as Sirius is about to release his magic, a firm hand clamps around his forearm. “It’s alright, brother,” Regulus says, standing on his left. “Given everything going on with Travers and his family, I think we can find forgiveness in our hearts, yes?”
“Darling, I hate to break it to you, but your brother doesn’t do forgiveness.” Taking his customary place on Sirius’s right, James scowls at the brute in front of them. “Can’t blame him, though, since this tosser doesn't deserve it.”
“I don’t need forgiveness from any of you, you’re all NOTHING!” Travers glares at the youngest member of their family. “Especially you, little Black! Or have you forgotten our lessons so soon?”
Lessons? What lessons, what does that mean?!
“At least we know who our parents are,” Regulus remarks with an air of indifference.
Out of his peripheral vision, Sirius spots a familiar silver gleam in his brother’s eye, and ooh, this is going to be good.
“I KNOW WHO MY PARENTS ARE!” The older Slytherin points an accusing finger at Regulus, but his screamed words are directed at their gobsmacked peers. “He’s talking out of his arse!"
“Oh piddle… you have no idea, do you?” Regulus’s tone is laced with so much regret, Sirius almost believes it to be genuine. “You see, certain circles are privy to an interesting tidbit about your mother. But I detest being the bearer of bad news, it’s such a dreadful position to be in.”
‘Good’ is evidently an understatement; this is about to be the juiciest gossip of the year.
“You’re lying, Black! You don’t know anything about my family, because there’s nothing to know!”
Just like that, the charade drops.
A deliciously scornful laugh tumbles out of Regulus’s mouth, one filled with so much derisiveness, it would make the Black elders beam with pride. “Am I? Are you certain?”
“Is he?” James whispers in Sirius’s ear.
The Gryffindor-Black shakes his head ever-so-slightly.
It definitely sounds far-fetched. Travers’s parents are not his parents? How is that possible? But Sirius recognizes the signs; whatever Regulus is about to say is the truth.
“Let me teach you a lesson this time, Larson, since I would hate for you to live the remainder of your life unenlightened. Throughout the entirety of your parents’ marriage, your mother’s preferred source of… er, comfort, if you will… can be summed up in four words - 'anyone but her husband'.” Everyone within hearing range gasps at the implication, Sirius included, because holy bollocks, what the fuck! How long has Reggie known about this?... Does he even know how he knows?! “Not that anyone blames her, of course, given the foul, witless vermin her parents betrothed her to.”
“HOW DARE YOU -”
Regulus squints at the rapidly reddening boy in front of them. “You look awfully different from your daddy, don't you, Larson? Bet that never sat right with you either.” He clicks his tongue. “You poor thing, no wonder you’re so bitter and jaded. Both your brothers, pale, blonde, and blue-eyed, are the spitting image of their old man, who’s the spitting image of his old man. And then there’s you, with your brown hair, brown eyes, and tan skin, who always felt different, but didn’t quite know why. Well… I guess that makes you the black sheep of the family, no pun intended.”
“BETS ON WHO LARSON’S DADDY REALLY IS?!” Crouch cackles, inciting dozens of students to loudly pitch their ideas.
James raises his voice above the crowd. “Five galleons he’s a Parkinson! They’ve got the same puggish face.”
“My money is on...” Sirius scrutinizes the Pureblood bigots surrounding Travers, looking for similarities. “He's gotta be a Nott. They're both block-shaped and so dreadfully unattractive, it’s actually impressive. Aren’t their parents ‘good friends’ too?”
“My Father will have your head for that!” Nott shrieks.
With a roar of laughter, Sirius and James start mocking the shrillness of the Slytherin’s voice.
“Personally, I’d put my galleons on Larson’s daddy being…”
Everyone waits with bated breath to hear what Regulus has to say next.
Oh, and he does not disappoint.
“A Muggle.”
With a howl of fury, Travers lunges for the younger Slytherin. Having expected this barbaric response, Sirius shoves Regulus behind him; with nothing more than a quick glance, followed by a resolute nod, Remus accepts his guard duty assignment. It allows Sirius and James the freedom to savagely pound the berk’s face in, exactly as he deserves (if Remus is needed in the brawl, their cousins will protect Regulus, of that there’s no doubt... not to mention his brother's hoard of admirers).
But sadly, it’s all for naught.
Travers is held back by the combined force of Yaxley, Parkinson, Avery 2, and Nott, the former shooting furtive glances at Andromeda.
“Let it go, mate,” Yaxley urges. “Trust me, please, Larson. Everyone knows he’s lying. Let it go.”
“HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT TRIPE ABOUT MY FAMILY! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU, BLACK -”
“You tried that on Friday, remember?” The students around them begin furiously murmuring to one another. Sofia grabs her eldest brother’s sleeve and yanks him down to her level, whispering furiously in his ear.
"Larson tried to kill you, Regulus?!" someone in the crowd shouts. Sirius thinks it might be Tommy, but it's hard to say for sure.
Side-stepping the trio of Gryffindors, Regulus holds his arms wide. “He did, and yet… here I stand, alive and whole.”
“YOU SHOULD HAVE DROWNED PEACEFULLY WHEN I GRACIOUSLY GAVE YOU THE CHANCE, REGULUS BLACK! I WON’T LET YOU OFF SO EASILY NEXT TIME! YOU WILL RUE THIS MOMENT FOR THE REST OF YOUR SHORT, PATHETIC LIFE -”
A new, louder voice booms over the chorus of outrage from the students around them.
“MR. TRAVERS!” Slughorn cries, having finally left the staff table, Professor McGonagall at his side. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Black is spreading lies about my parentage!”
“WHICH LED YOU TO THREATEN TO TAKE HIS LIFE?” The Deputy Headmistress looks so utterly terrifying, Sirius flinches backwards, his tail metaphorically tucked between his legs. Landing in Remus’s open arms, they curl around each other for moral support, peeking through Sirius’s beautiful hair since they’re too proud to cover their eyes. Never in his life has Sirius been so terrified... even his mother doesn't look this scary during the worst of her rages (although, it is rather amusing to watch a buff James wrestle with competing desires - stand supportively with Regulus or cower behind the younger teen’s lithe frame). “BEFORE CONFESSING TO A PRIOR ATTEMPT AT TAKING HIS LIFE?!... TO THE HEADMASTER’S OFFICE WITH YOU, AT ONCE!”
Notes:
Dun dun dun... house points for anyone who guesses what's going on with Regulus!
I also just posted the first chapter of a prequel to this fic. It's called 'life lessons that really stick'. It's entirely from Walburga's perspective, and all I'll say is... she knows a lot more than she lets on ;)
Chapter 39: The Full Extent
Notes:
Just a forewarning... the bullying seen/alluded to so far in this fic was only the tip of the iceberg. Although this chapter does not contain scenes from the past depicting the abuse Travers inflicted on Regulus, it's still pretty heavy to hear it recounted.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Sirius tries to surreptitiously catch his brother’s eye, but he refuses to look up. Staring unblinkingly at the stone floor, Regulus hasn’t said a word since they left the Great Hall, steadfastly ignoring James and Narcissa’s attempts to make conversation. Accompanied by Slughorn and McGonagall, Travers had gone into the Headmaster’s office first to ‘tell his side’, leaving the four Blacks, James, and Remus alone in the hallway under the watchful gaze of the giant stone gargoyle guarding the entrance.
Naturally, they all cluster around Regulus; Andromeda and Narcissa are on one side, with Sirius and Remus on the opposite. In a shocking twist, it’s not a Black who succumbs to the urge to manically pace across a small section of the hall, but James Potter. His friend changes direction so frequently, it makes Sirius nauseous to watch him for any length of time. The Gryffindor Chaser appears to be acting out a conversation between two people, but considering his agitated hand waving and incoherent mumbling (to Sirius, at least) are garnering unimpressed looks and disappointed sighs from Remus, it appears as if the discussion isn’t going well.
Leaning against the wall, Sirius readjusts his position, ‘accidentally’ brushing his arm against his brother's. But Regulus doesn’t look up, doesn't move, doesn't make any indication whatsoever that he even felt the contact.
Oh, bugger it, Sirius thinks to himself. Subtly has never been my style anyways.
“That was very cunning of you, little star,” he boasts, his voice overflowing with pride; he might not be the best at plots and subterfuge - a bit too brash and impulsive for that - but he can still appreciate a clever one… so long as it wasn’t being used against him, and/or his friends. “I am sure the old folks will be blown away by your maneuvering when they hear about it.”
Head bowed, his brother’s voice is devoid entirely of emotion and nearly impossible to hear. It’s eerily reminiscent of the pre-Hogwarts Regulus, who rarely spoke above a whisper. “They won’t.”
Andromeda peers at the youngest Black with unmasked concern, I wonder if she knows what he’s doing by wrapping his fingers around his wrist like that? “Of course they will be, Regulus!” Seems like the sort of thing she’d be attuned to after all these years, but who’s to say? “Why wouldn’t they?”
“You were flawless!” Narcissa adds with a cruel smile, until she catches herself and quickly schools it into something more docile.
“It won’t matter, nothing will change.” Sirius almost gasps when his brother looks up; there’s no silver gleam this time, nothing of the sort. Just flat, deadened gray eyes. Like Regulus has already given up. “This,” he gestures towards the Headmaster’s office, “is a waste of time.”
There’s nothing flowing down their bond. Sirius can sense its presence, knows it’s there, knows it’s stronger than ever, and yet… it’s like Regulus has shut down his emotions, or simply removed them from his body.
“How can you say that?!” James cries, wincing when Narcissa chastises him for being too loud. “Regulus, he tried to kill you, he confessed in front of half the school, of course he’ll be severely punished! Like... suspension or expulsion, maybe they'll even snap his wand -”
“Quaint Gryffindor ideals,” the four Blacks say in unison, which at least ignites a tiny spark of life in Regulus’s eyes.
Carefully, Sirius takes his brother’s hand, the one with the silver trident ring. “I swear it to you, Reg, on my name, my beauty, my brains, my riches, and my ‘silly little friend group’... you will get justice. Proper justice. It might not be today, but it will happen.”
A dainty hand is placed on top of his own. “I swear as well, Regulus. If… uhh… other avenues are ineffective,” Father BETTER not disappoint them, or he too will feel Sirius’s wrath, “we’ll find another solution.”
“I vow the same,” Andromeda says, adding hers to the pile, “and while I typically avoid speaking on the behalf of others, I’m sure Bellatrix would agree if she were here. I’ll certainly be owling her once we’re done with this -”
“Don’t bother,” Sirius blurts out, ducking his head when four inquisitive looks are directed his way. “I already did last night. I wanted her to hear the correct version of events, regardless if the elders contacted her.”
Remus redirects some of the astonished attention away from him, bless. “I proofread it. It was exceptionally polite, straight to the point, and most importantly… not a Howler.”
“If that’s true, she’ll never believe it’s from Sirius, even if he signed it,” Narcissa giggles, though her mirth comes to an abrupt end when they notice Regulus’s eyes have taken on a rather wet sheen.
Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, time to backpedal. “I kept it to just the basics of details!” Sirius explains in a rush. “With, erm... some minor,” major “discussion about the audaciousness of peasants thinking they can move against us. I’m so sorry, Reggie, I know how you feel about your business being spread -”
“Sirius… you… you willingly wrote to Bella, on my behalf?”
Fuck, is this a trick question?
It feels like a trick question.
After doing some additional Black Arithmancy - Regulus can easily verify his claim if he were so inclined, would risk losing some of his brother’s trust if his deceit was discovered, much less troublesome to just grovel for forgiveness - Sirius bravely opts to tell the truth.
“Yes?” Sirius squeaks, hunching his shoulders. Ideally, if he makes himself look as pathetic as he can, as pathetic as he feels on the inside right now, his brother will pity him and not say a bunch of mean stuff that will result in him breaking down in front of Remus… again!
By some minor miracle, Sirius doesn’t flinch when Regulus pounces on him. It’s not that he expected to be hit, per se, it’s just that… well, being hit seemed more likely than being embraced. His brother will (begrudgingly) accept physical affection, but he rarely initiates it. Not to mention, the sudden movement is combined with a barrage of emotions crashing down their bond, though with the way they’re all swirling together, it’s impossible to tell what’s what.
Trembling in Sirius’s arms, his brother whispers, “Je suis désolé” over and over again.
They never get to ask Regulus what he’s sorry about.
The gargoyle steps aside right as Pandora, who was fetched from Ravenclaw by one of Andromeda’s minions, joins their group. Without discussion, the girls lead the way up the circular staircase, followed by Regulus in the middle, and the three Gryffindors bringing up the rear. Piling into the Headmaster’s office, the mood is undeniably somber, but Sirius feels a flicker of rage rekindling upon seeing Larson Travers in the chair closest to the door. Seven additional seats form a semi-circle around the Headmaster’s desk; Andromeda and Narcissa make a small production out of deciding who gets to sit by the scumbag, blocking Regulus from his view in the process. When everyone is seated, Andromeda is next to Travers, followed by Narcissa, Pandora, Regulus, Sirius, Remus, then James. Slughorn stands behind the older Slytherin’s chair, while McGonagall hovers between the Black brothers.
A wave of guilt washes over Sirius when James doesn't slide into the seat next to him, I hope he doesn’t think I don’t need him anymore just because Remus and I are dating now. He tries to convince himself it’s because his best mate knows he’ll be relying heavily on Remus to keep him grounded during what will assuredly be an emotionally fraught discussion, until… he sat there so he can see Reg if he angles his chair just right, didn’t he?! That sly bastard.
Hearing Sirius’s quiet, irritated huff, Remus follows his gaze, then consolingly pats his leg. With absolutely zero shame, he takes his boyfriend’s hand, along with a much needed deep breath. He needs to stay strong for his brother, must remain strong. Sirius is stubborn and unyielding; between his brilliance and obstinance, the support of his best mate and boyfriend, and the cunning brains of his two (admittedly) scary cousins, they will emerge triumphant from this ‘discussion’. Travers will be expelled, and the rest of them can move on with their lives, lives that will be happier and all the more peaceful, as Regulus deserves.
“Having heard Mr. Travers’s side of this latest incident in the ongoing back-and-forth conflict between him and Mr. Black -”
Narcissa scoffs so loudly, she startles half their group. “Ongoing back-and-forth? You honestly think this is two-sided? Regulus is a VICTIM, plain and simple, how dare you insinuate otherwise -”
“Cissa,” Andromeda says neutrally, though they all know it’s a warning.
The blonde immediately shuts her mouth, but the red flush crawling up her skin ironically brings Sirius comfort. It’s nice to know he’s not the only one tiptoeing towards a meltdown.
McGonagall asks Regulus to explain what happened during his Care of Magical Creatures lesson, a story that takes all of one minute. Travers, of course, interrupts to deny saying, ‘What a nice day for a swim, don’t you think, Black?... Oh that’s right, you can’t swim, what a shame,’ before pushing Regulus into the water. Pandora mentions that while she was too far away to hear what the older boy said, she definitely saw him put his hands on Regulus’s back.
"I contacted Madam Pomfrey moments ago," the Headmaster says, peering intently at Regulus over his half-moon spectacles. "According to her reports, there was no mention of Larson Travers or any other student being involved in your trip to the Hospital Wing, Mr. Black."
Head tilted to the side, James squints at the elderly wizard. "You're not insinuating Regulus threw himself into the lake for fun, are you?"
"I am not. As Mr. Travers admitted, quite loudly in fact, to playing a part in Mr. Black's fall into the lake, I merely wish to inquire as to why it wasn't reported after it happened."
“Why in the world would I have done that?” Regulus scoffs in an atypically belligerent tone. “So you could slap him on the wrist, while simultaneously painting an even bigger target on my back? Slytherins are known for their self-preservation instincts, sir.”
Sirius’s eyes drift to his cousins, who he finds are already looking at him; their unanimous reaction is, ‘What the fuck is going on?'
Out of the five children in their generation, Regulus is the least likely to 'talk back' to an authority figure. Blimey, Kreacher is more likely to be disrespectful than he is.
“Hogwarts has a zero-tolerance policy for bullying -”
The youngest Black laughs scathingly at the Headmaster's remark. “Oh, I bet it does."
Dumbledore then reveals the tall tale Travers fed him; he tripped on a loose plank and accidently bumped into Regulus, knocking the younger Slytherin into the water. Remus smoothly counters this ridiculous bollocks claim by asking if it was an accident, as Travers says, then why did he hightail it back to the castle right after it happened? Why didn’t he jump into the water to save Regulus, or at the very least, call for help? There were over a dozen students further down the pier, along with Professor Kettleborn, who Travers passed as he ‘fled the scene of the crime’. Any one of them could have come to Regulus’s aid. With a sham expression of remorse, Travers says he panicked, and ‘given our tumultuous history, I knew his overprotective and emotionally volatile family members would accuse me of having nefarious intentions.’
“Nefarious intentions?” James echoes with an expression of disbelief. “You LITERALLY admitted to doing it on purpose, not some thirty minutes ago! You said, and I quote, ‘I’ll fucking kill you, Black. You should have drowned peacefully when I so graciously gave you the chance’. I dunno about you, but that sounds like nefarious intentions to me!"
"Sounds nefarious to me as well!" the Gryffindor-Black exclaims.
“A chance that was given by accident,” Travers pretentiously sniffs. “There’s no ‘murder confession’, as you dimwits believe, because it was an accident."
“You were an accident,” Sirius mutters under his breath.
A ghost of a smile flickers across Regulus’s face at the petty remark.
"Can you honestly say, Black the Elder, you've never said anything brash or threatening in the heat of the moment?" the older Slytherin sneers. "Younger Black was spouting vicious lies in front of half the school, so my bad for getting a little defensive."
"I'll show you a little defensive, you twerp!" Something sharp digs into Sirius's right arm; Regulus shake his head in warning, before retracting his claws.
Dumbledore pointedly clears his throat. “While I understand the incident out on the pier -”
“You keep saying ‘incident’, sir,” Sirius hotly interjects, discreetly moving his arm into his lap, “but I believe the term you’re looking for is ‘murder attempt’.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Travers's slimy smirk. “Alleged.”
It makes Sirius want to destroy.
“Semantics aside," the Headmaster calmly continues, "Regulus’s retaliation in the Great Hall is understandable, although not permissible. Spreading malicious rumors and outright fabricating lies about another student’s parentage -”
In another display of bad manners, Regulus interrupts the older wizard. “I told no lies, sir.”
“Mr. Black, how could you possibly -”
“I told no lies, sir,” the Slytherin repeats.
Travers moves to stand up, but he's stopped by Slughorn's firm hand on his shoulder. “HE’S LYING, SEE, THERE HE GOES AGAIN! MY BIRTH FATHER IS NOT A MUGGLE!”
“My brother does not lie!” Remus squeezes Sirius’s hand, but it’s not enough to quell the fire igniting in his veins. “What about all the tripe Travers said before he confessed to attempting to murder my brother? Which, need I remind you, there are at least a hundred witnesses to corroborate my account!”
“For those of us who didn't hear these words, please recount what was said, Mr. Black,” Professor McGonagall says, giving their serene Headmaster the evil eye, that doesn’t bode well, does it? Sirius is somewhat comforted by her encouraging nod.
“Well, let’s see.” He counts each point off on his fingers. “There’s how he insulted Regulus and I for being gay, then insinuated we were going to engage in an incestuous relationship to keep our family ‘in power’. Not to mention the derogatory slurs about blood purity, the childish insults he called my brother, and the revolting, utterly sexist things he said about my female cousins.” Andromeda catches his gaze and inclines her head, so Sirius repeats what Travers said about her and Cissa, word-for-word. Regulus and James’s mouths drop open in shock, and the two Heads of Houses gasp in a mix of horror and outrage. “And… hmm, oh yeah, how could I forget? How he alluded to wanting to sexually assault my underage brother!”
“WHAT?!” James and Professor McGonagall shout in unison, the remark inciting several portraits behind Dumbledore to grumble their displeasure.
Distracted by a spike of panic flowing through his body, it takes Sirius a moment to discern it isn’t his own. In what’s hopefully a casual display of comfort, he tosses his arm over his brother’s shoulders.
“I did no such thing, you’re bloody lying again! Unlike you and your lot, Black the Elder, I’m not a disgusting fairy -”
“Mr. Travers!” Slughorn shouts. “We do not tolerate that type of discriminatory language at this school!”
“Seems like Sofia was right,” Sirius purrs, leering at the older Slytherin. “You are awfully obsessed with Regulus, aren’t you?”
“I’m not -”
James picks up his train of thought. “And you’re just so strangely defensive about being perceived as gay, aren't you?”
“It really makes a bloke wonder, doesn’t it, James?”
“It does, Sirius, it really does.”
Flushing a shade of crimson that makes him look more unappealing than usual, Travers hisses, “I wouldn’t touch your puny, half-starved, disfigured, revolting, pansy brother if we were the last two people on this Earth!”
Regulus curls in on himself at the barbed remark.
Oh, hell fucking no.
Sirius opens his mouth to give the former-Beater a good dressing down, but his cousins beat him to it.
“You dare to say such untruths about Regulus when you look like that?” Narcissa asks with a caustic laugh. “Tell us the truth, Larson… do you own a mirror?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Cissa,” Andromeda says, rolling her eyes. “Of course he doesn’t. It would break whenever he so much as walked by, let alone stood in front of it.”
Sirius, Narcissa, and James snicker appreciatively at her savage insult.
“For those who had the fortune of missing what Travers said about Regulus,” Sirius continues before the opportunity passes by - the professors need to understand the vileness they're dealing with, “it went like this.” Clearing his throat, he then recounts everything Travers said about his brother, word for word. As he does so, Sirius weaves his fingers into Regulus’s curls, lightly scratching his scalp in a bid to offer whatever comfort he can.
Narcissa then urges her youngest cousin to tell the Headmaster how this strife with Travers has been going on for years. Tired of her nagging (or perhaps fearing Andromeda, Sirius, and James ganging up on him, which they would have), Regulus proceeds to emotionlessly describe how Larson Travers maliciously bullied him for the last three plus years, a campaign of terror that begun the moment he sat on the Slytherin bench following his sorting.
The reveal of the severity of the harassment makes Sirius sick to his stomach. Literally. At points, he’s forced to close his eyes and focus on his breathing to avoid throwing up all over Dumbledore’s ugly carpet. Only McGonagall’s reassuring, austere presence directly behind his chair, and Remus’s strong grip on his hand, keeps Sirius from launching himself at Travers with the intention of murdering him.
With every example his brother shares, Sirius naively thinks to himself, it can’t get worse than this, it can’t get worse than this, there’s no way, but…
It does.
It keeps getting worse. And worse. And somehow, even worse than that, to the point where Sirius realizes it’s a bloody miracle that Regulus is still with them today. Not because there were other murder attempts (which there sort of were), but because…
A person can only handle so much, before it becomes too much.
And the shite Regulus went through?
Fucking hell.
The sorts of things Travers said to Regulus were despicable; how he was useless, pathetic, the least powerful student to ever step foot in Hogwarts; how the only reason he received decent marks was because his parents paid his professors a hefty sum to overlook their son's deficiencies; how he was so bloody incompetent, it was a stretch to call him a wizard; how Regulus was a plague the Blacks couldn’t rid themselves of, and if they didn’t need a spare heir, they would have disowned him straight out of the womb; how if his mother got her hands on a Time-Turner, she'd use it to abort her second pregnancy; how his parents would never be proud of him, would never prefer him, not like they did his older brother, ‘blood traitor’ or not.
How Regulus hardly had any friends because he’s a freak, and the friends he did have only tolerated him out of obligation, paid off by his parents to ‘play nice with their loser son’; how he had no social skills to speak of, and whenever someone was 'forced' to converse with him, they left the conversation as fast as possible; how Regulus would never find love because he’s disgusting, ugly, grotesque, a disgrace to Slytherins and Purebloods everywhere, nothing but a blight on the legacies of his family and house; how Regulus was destined to die alone, because in a world of over 7 billion people, not a single person would ever willingly choose to be with him.
How he deserved being treated in such a way because he was worthless, insignificant, no one cared about him; how if he wasn’t so weak, so defenseless, if he stood up for himself, acted more like a wizard than a Squib, then maybe he’d be treated differently; how since he’s not like that, ‘everyone’ agreed the world would be a better place if Regulus no longer lived in it.
And in the tiniest of voices, so quiet, everyone had to hold their breath to hear him; how Sirius begged the Sorting Hat to send him to Gryffindor, not as an act of rebellion against their parents, but because he wanted to get away from his brother, and he knew a coward like Regulus would never be sorted into the house of the brave; how Sirius would rather have James Potter for a brother, his equal, while Regulus was inferior, intolerable, rotten to the core, a poor man’s copy of his older, more accomplished sibling; how obviously Travers must be right about all of this, because why else would Sirius refuse to be seen in public with him?; how when it became evident the Black brothers were on the outs, it must have been Regulus's fault, because he ruined everything he touched; how the brothers would never make amends, because Regulus was a ‘burden’, and Sirius could no longer stand it anymore, could no longer stand him.
The harassment was predominately verbal - deeply personal insults that chipped away any sense of self-worth Regulus might have possessed when he first arrived at Hogwarts. But Larson Travers was relentless, and his cruelty extended beyond mere words.
Going out of his way to physically assault Regulus whenever the opportunity arose, his methods inflicted the most emotional torment possible; casting a tripping jinx right as Regulus was approaching a moving staircase; using a cutting hex on the younger boy's book bag, then hissing insults at him under the guise of helping him pick up his belongings; threatening to dump Veritaserum or other potions in his food, so he could embarrass Regulus in front of the whole school; looming over the younger Slytherin when he was alone, often in the Quidditch locker room as he was changing, or late at night in the empty Common Room, making (sexual-sounding, in Sirius’s opinion) threats about what happens to ‘little snakes when bigger snakes catch up to them’; elbowing Regulus while passing him in the hallway, or bumping into him hard enough to send the younger boy crashing into the stone wall; using Quidditch practice as an excuse to target Regulus with relentless Bludger attacks to ‘help him improve’, and though the Beater missed more often than not, the Seeker usually left practice covered in bruises.
Then last semester, everything escalated.
What seemed oppressive before, became nigh unbearable.
How following the rampage Regulus went on when Travers knocked him off his broom during Quidditch practice, the Beater vowed to kill the younger Slytherin the ‘moment he saw an opportunity’; how after Travers was permanently booted from the team, the harassment became constant, the ex-Beater stalking Regulus throughout the castle like a malignant wraith; how for months, Regulus would randomly be knocked into an empty classroom for private ‘lessons’, lessons where Travers reminded him that he would never amount to anything, nobody cared about him, he didn’t matter, he was nothing; how when Regulus started avoiding being alone, walking everywhere with his teammates, friends, or classmates, Travers left a note on his pillow, warning him that if things continued this way, he’d have no choice but to visit Regulus at night, and ‘by any means necessary' his dormmates would be 'subdued until our lesson was over' (apparently to Slytherins, dorm rooms are ‘sacred’, so entering another Snake's room without permission is sacrilegious); how if Regulus ever told anyone what was happening between them, it would be ‘the last thing he ever did’, though Travers would first make him watch as he hurt Narcissa, Andromeda, Pandora, Barty, Evan, and Sirius in ‘ways they’d never recover from’, would be sure to tell them it was all Regulus’s fault this was happening to them, that even after his death, they’d never be free from the youngest Black.
And perhaps the worst of it…
How after the third-years’ lesson on boggarts, upon learning Regulus couldn’t swim, Travers trapped them together in the lavatory, where he taunted Regulus about his ‘childish’ fear, calling him pathetic, weak, an embarrassment to wizards everywhere; how since Travers was older and ‘better in every way’, he would help Regulus overcome it; how he gripped Regulus by the back of his neck, then held him facedown in a sink filled with water, held him there for so long, Regulus was convinced he was going to die; how the entire time, Travers claimed he was doing Regulus a favor, helping him learn how to hold his breath for longer; how one day, Regulus would thank him for the practice.
Thirty minutes.
That’s how long it takes for Regulus to recount the abuse he suffered. Travers was placed under a silencing charm by McGonagall around the five minute mark, so Regulus talked for nearly twenty-five minutes without interruption.
Sirius had no idea how badly this scumbag was treating his brother, even when they were on good terms; from the devastated look on Pandora’s face, the murderous one on Narcissa’s, and the frighteningly blank expression on Andromeda’s, they had no inkling either. None of it was as blatant or openly contentious as Sirius and James’s conflicts with Snape; Travers was a calculating, manipulative viper, one who played the long game with his victim and absolutely contributed to Regulus’s issues with low self esteem, Sirius is sure of it.
Thirty minutes.
More than three years spent living in fear.
How did Sirius miss it?
How did Sirius miss all of it?
Was their bond really that weak after their fallout?
A fleeting glance at his brother brings forth more questions; can Regulus really compartmentalize his emotions so proficiently, neatly packing them away to be dealt with (or not) at a later date? Or does he not feel emotions as strongly as other people? At this very moment in time, how can he feel nothing, while Sirius is on the cusp of unraveling entirely?
His brother’s crying session after their detention had been shocking; Regulus didn’t do ‘dragon tears’, but it still took Sirius a minute or two to discern for certain that he was legitimately upset. Oddly enough, he’d always been rather envious of his brother’s ability to hide his feelings, to keep them at bay, never overwhelming his decision-making process. But has Regulus become too proficient at this particular skill?
Does it matter? the snide voice whispers in his head. You failed him.
You continue to fail him, again and again, one disappointment after another. You were supposed to protect him, not put him in harm’s way. How could you honestly think this was all contained to the Quidditch Pitch? You were there last semester, you saw how remorselessly Travers went after Regulus at practice, how he knocked him off his broom, how Regulus would have DIED, if not for Death warning you. How Regulus then went on that violent spree against Travers and Nott... how were you so fucking stupid to think there was nothing more going on? Worse, when Regulus quit the team, you threatened to expose the real reason for his resignation to the Blacks if he didn’t ‘stand up for himself’! And then afterwards, when he warned you that he SIGNED HIS OWN DEATH CERTIFICATE, you didn’t take him seriously, despite seeing the silver gleam and knowing precisely what it means!
Merlin, and during Regulus's first semester, how often did you admonish him for skipping meals? You thought he was off being a swot, but no, he was too terrified to eat at his house table with Travers threatening to poison his food! And what did you do? Absolutely nothing, except make him feel worse! You might as well have done all of that, said all of that, to Regulus yourself. Maybe if you stuck around like you were supposed to, Regulus wouldn't have believed you thought he was a burden. Your actions alone would have proven that Travers’s words were pure bollocks.
But you didn’t stick around, did you?
No.
You left.
You left Regulus alone, left him to fend for himself in that pit of vipers. After spending the first ten years of his life coddling him, making him dependent on you, reliant, making him think he’s incapable of doing anything on his own, you then turned around and left.
Mother even called you out on it once, nearly a decade ago, ‘Your brother is never going to grow into an independent little wizard if you keep doing everything for him’.
Do you remember what you said?
‘Okay, and? That’s why he has me. I’m his older brother. It’s my job to take care of him, isn’t it? Or have they suddenly put an age limit on that?’
And yet… you left him.
You aren’t fit to be Regulus's older brother. Or be anything to him at all.
The Prewett twins are better suited for your position, they’re immeasurably more deserving, they’re not useless, worthless, they aren’t liars, they didn’t LEAVE -
“Perhaps a fifteen minute break might be wise?” Andromeda politely requests.
Dumbledore agrees, and sends Travers to a side room so he can ‘discuss the matter’ with the Gryffindor and Slytherin Heads of House. Regulus is the first to rise, Pandora hot on his heels.
Right as Sirius steps into the corridor, intent on finding his brother, he's grabbed by the scruff of his neck.
“I don’t think so.” Andromeda roughly drags him halfway down the hallway, Narcissa held less demeaningly on her other side. “Show me your hands.” Slightly afraid, Sirius extends his palms; the left is fine, because that was the one Remus held, but the right bears crescent markings from his nails. They disappear with a tap of her wand. “Cissa.” The blonde contritely lifts the sleeves of her robe, revealing pale skin marred by gouges from her longer nails. That's fixed too. “Both of you will spend this break getting your shite together -"
Looking to pick a fight, anything to mitigate the raging emotions within, Sirius snaps, “How the bloody hell can you be so calm about this? Do you not -” His eyes reflexively drop to the ground under her piercing gaze, wrong place to look, wrong place! “Erm… asked respectfully, heh.”
The brunette doesn’t answer his question, at least not directly. “We are Blacks. We do not have the luxury of being able to have a meltdown, not unless we want to endure the consequences, consequences that will assuredly fall on Regulus to carry. He needs us to be strong, so we will be strong. If you cannot be strong, you will leave. Am I understood?”
After sharing a quick glance, Sirius and Narcissa agree, unwilling to risk her ire. With an approving nod, she holds her arm out to her sister, and they stride down the corridor with their heads bent together.
Recognizing Andromeda is right about needing to get his shite together, Sirius decides to give his brother space for now. Finding a nearby alcove is easy, Merlin knows he’s spent enough time being called to the Headmaster’s office over the years. All Sirius wants to do is cry his eyes out for the remaining amount of time, but he can’t risk losing control like that. The simmering anger is unfortunately familiar, as is the way his magic thrums within him, pulsating, seeking release. To destroy. Because the worst feeling of all, the one he'd do anything to rid himself of, is the soul-crushing guilt.
How could they have failed Regulus so extensively? How could he have failed Regulus so extensively? Will whatever Father does to the Travers family be enough? Can anything make this right?
And fuck, how many times did Sirius see Travers trailing Regulus during his brother’s entire second year and half of his third?! Travers shadowed Regulus more than the other members of the Slytherin Quidditch team did combined. Sirius had assumed there was a simple reason for this; after he cornered Narcissa and expressed his very valid concerns about why a seventh-year was skulking around wherever Regulus was, she took it up with Fawley, and the Slytherin Captain concluded Sirius was right - it’s very creepy for a seventeen-year-old bloke to follow around a twelve-year-old, regardless of the intentions. So, the second youngest player on the team was appointed ‘Captain Henchmen’, a role that delegated him as the main person guarding their star player from anyone hoping to take the Slytherin Seeker out of the next match. And who knows, maybe it did go down like that, but if so, Travers definitely used his position to his advantage. Looking back, Sirius was a moron to NOT question why the Beater followed after his brother constantly, even when there wasn't a match coming up. He wrote it off as Slytherin paranoia, but fuck, he should have known better! (One thing Sirius does know - after Travers was booted from the team, he never saw the older Slytherin around Regulus, and yes, he did look. Maybe he concealed himself to avoid attention?)
Hearing the full truth of what happened to Regulus makes Mother’s apathetic dismissal of Sirius's request for justice all the more upsetting. If she knew the extent of the torment Travers inflicted on her youngest son, would she have agreed to act? Or would she have still brushed it off? Would she blame Regulus for not standing up for himself?
(Why DIDN’T he stand up for himself?, the treacherous voice in the back of his head whispers. Sirius doesn’t understand it, doesn’t know if he ever will. Regulus stands up to him and James! How is Larson Travers scarier than Sirius?!)
None of his friends would ever believe him, but as a young child, Walburga Black was Sirius’s hero. Hell, Regulus might not even believe him either; he’d argue that Sirius’s only hero was Uncle Gio. And sure, he's always been a huge fan of Uncle Alphard’s caretaker (to the point where Sirius once confessed to Mother and Uncle Alphard that he wished Uncle Gio was his father… in response, Mother laughed so hard, she cried, and his uncle offered him ten galleons if he said it to Father at the next family event. But the following morning, Uncle Gio discreetly paid him twenty galleons upfront for his silence; even as a child, Sirius knew a good deal when he saw one, and he wasn’t going to betray Uncle Gio’s trust by taking his money and saying it anyways!).
It was Mother who taught Sirius and Regulus an important life lesson, one the Black heir will never forget - ‘No one harms a member of our house and lives to tell the tale. An enemy to one, is an enemy to us all’.
It wasn’t just blather, either.
She meant it.
When Sirius was six, he was left at home in the care of their calligraphy/art tutor, while his parents and Kreacher were at St Mungo's with a sick Regulus. As soon as Mother Apparated away, the arsehole tutor used a Permanent Sticking Charm to adhere Sirius to his chair, before pissing off and leaving his young charge by his lonesome (which yes, left Sirius with oodles of trauma, as if he didn’t have enough angst already with Reg on Death’s doorstep every couple of months). Incensed by the treatment of her firstborn son, Mother cast the Imperius Curse on Monsieur LaRue, eventually freeing Sirius from his chair prison (the tutor was apparently very good at resisting the curse, probably because he was a vapid twat with no artistic talent whatsoever, meaning he had to be good at something, and grrrr, Sirius hates him nearly as much as he hates Larson Travers).
And then two weeks after the incident, Mother provided her sons a firsthand demonstration of how deadly serious… heh… she was about abiding to Regulus’s request that LaRue go ‘bye bye, forever’ (Sirius highly doubts murder was what his four-year-old brother was advocating for, but alas, murder was what he got). Waking them up in the middle of the night, Mother led them down to the dungeons, where LaRue was stuck to the stone wall. Before offing the unconscious tutor with the Killing Curse, Mother gave them a nice little speech about how anyone who harmed a Black could not be allowed to live, ‘Allowing such an affront to go unpunished would be a stain on our family’s honor.’
Sirius even asked if LaRue was dying because he was the heir, and she said no!
“It is because you are a Black, and someone harmed you.”
Personally, and this is just Sirius’s opinion of course, but Larson Travers trying to drown Regulus seems a whole lot worse than being stuck to a chair!
And see, if what Father said was true - that he is Mother’s favorite son - then why wouldn’t she want to appease him by helping Regulus? Regulus means EVERYTHING to Sirius, has she not realized that yet? He doesn't know how that could be possible though, since he is NOT shy about his dedication to his little brother! This summer, when Regulus almost died in their house... twice... did Sirius not prove his commitment is as strong as ever?! Should something irreversible happen to his brother due to her refusal for retribution, how could she believe Sirius would EVER want any part of the Blacks afterwards?
Uhh, friendly reminder, but you didn’t let Mother finish what she was trying to say in the Hospital Wing, a voice in his head huffs, one that sounds suspiciously like his bratty baby brother. Remember what Grandmother taught us? Assuming makes an ASS out of U and ME.
Okay, if you're so smart, what else could she have meant? Sirius petulantly grumbles back. Being lectured by his baby brother is weird and yucky, even if it's just in his head (cuz he’s crazy like that, yay).
You CANNOT be this stupid!
Well...
What did Father say the moment your brother was born? As the oldest and heir…
Fourteen years later, the words are still firmly ingrained in Sirius's memory.
It’s my duty to watch over Regulus from now on, my responsibility to protect him from both physical harm and emotional strain (failed at that), my obligation to teach him news things, to set a good example by modeling appropriate manners and behaviors (another fail). But I also promised Regulus I wouldn’t retaliate against Travers. I can't betray his trust again.
Did you, though? the voice asks teasingly.
The vow Sirius made to Regulus on the pier floats to the forefront of his mind.
“I swear on everything you just listed, I won’t personally do anything to Travers in retaliation for this offense.”
Oh.
Oh.
What Mother does or doesn’t say is irrelevant, as is her reasoning behind it. It doesn’t matter what Father and Uncle Alphard do to the Travers family. Sirius knows they won’t kill an underage wizard.
But that's the only option at this point.
Death.
An enemy to one Black, is an enemy to all.
I will kill Larson myself, Sirius silently vows. For Regulus, for our cousins, for our ancestors. Who knows what Reggie was referring to when he said that whole, ‘I signed my own death certificate’ thing… what if that meant MORE than the drowning attempt? What if he meant literally? Crux of the matter is this - Larson Travers dies, then all is solved. I will tear his flesh from his bones with my bare hands if I have to, piece by piece, I will make him suffer for every awful thing he’s done to Regulus, tenfold, twenty.
Because if Sirius doesn’t, if he doesn’t make Larson Travers pay for this crime these crimes, then it means he’s failed Regulus too many times for it to be admissible. Should Sirius not do something to rectify this egregious slight against his brother, he might as well strike his name from the tapestry himself, might as well attach rocks to his legs and jump into the deepest part of the Black Lake. If he cannot protect the boy he swore as a child he would always look after, and he cannot avenge him either, what purpose does Sirius have in life? Did he risk his own life at eight-years-old for Regulus to remain on this Earth, to what, suffer endlessly? No, of course not.
I will not fail Regulus again, I CANNOT fail him again. No matter what it takes, Larson Travers will die, he has to die, or I will -
“Sirius!” A large hand wraps around his own, yanking him away from the stone wall he was about to introduce his fist to. “I don’t think Hogwarts would appreciate you punching her.”
Actually, she would reprimand him for hurting himself, but he keeps that to himself.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Sirius drops his forehead onto his boyfriend’s chest. “I’m just so…” He hisses through his teeth.
Remus rests his chin on the top of Sirius’s head. “I know, love.”
“I had no idea,” he whispers, his shameful confession spoken into the soft fabric of Remus’s jumper. “This whole time, I had no… what kind of older brother does that make me?” Despite Sirius's best efforts, a few tears slip free. “I failed him, Remus. I failed my baby brother. He deserves so much more than what he’s been given, but he got stuck with me, a bloke who can never do anything right -”
“You did no such thing,” Remus stubbornly interjects. “You said Regulus has always played his cards close to his chest.” He gently massages Sirius’s scalp, an action that loosens some of the tension from his body… not that he deserves to feel any relief, because Sirius Black III is a disgrace, a stain on his family’s legacy, the worst older brother to ever exist… “And if he doesn't want someone to know something, then there’s a 96% chance they're not going to. That’s what you told Evan Rosier, remember?”
“It was 93% actually.”
His boyfriend snorts. “Apologies. I understand the guilt, you know I do, but it’s not your fault, Sirius, and I promise to tell you that as many times as it takes until you believe it. So, instead of blaming yourself and being a berk about it,” gently, Remus tilts Sirius's chin up, so he can look him in the eye, “maybe instead focus on being there for him? Because you are a good big brother, the best a bloke could ask for, and I’m sure you realize that confessing all of that was incredibly difficult for Regulus.”
Sirius has much more to say on the matter, but the words lodge in his throat. Merlin, he missed Remus so fucking much. Being near him now, even after spending time together yesterday, makes him feel like he’s going to explode out of his skin.
Because this? Standing here, cocooned in Remus's strong arms, gazing into those mesmerizing green eyes with the specks of amber, it’s easy to lose himself, to forget everything else exists. The world could be falling apart around him, it is falling apart around him, but being here with Remus makes everything slightly less frightening. Sirius could spend eternity listening to that honeyed voice coming from those alluring lips, lips that smile warmly at him and make his heart feel funny in his chest, lips that he wants nothing more than to kiss -
His lips end up on Remus’s cheek.
“Ah, darling, don’t get offended.”
I will get offended if I want to get offended! Sirius shrieks in his head.
It can never be said that Remus Lupin doesn’t possess a good deal of cunning, as exemplified when he presses a sweet kiss to Sirius’s forehead. “You and I both know your little romantic heart doesn’t want this to be our first kiss, you’re just hurting right now.”
Sirius despises admitting to such faults.
So he doesn’t.
“My cheeks not good enough for you, hmm?” he snarks, lifting his nose in the air.
Remus pretends to consider it for a moment, but relents when he sees Sirius puff up with indignation.
“Mate.”
Their friend’s woeful voice has them exchanging a worried look.
James Potter is the foundation of their friend group, the steady, unyielding pillar in which the Marauders lean on. James doesn’t do pessimism, doesn’t do melancholy, he never gives up before the end, and sometimes even then, he boldly continues on. He is the relentless ray of sunshine peeking through the clouds on a rainy day, the voice of reason, the voice of inspiration, the person they turn to when it feels like all hope is lost. To see James so downtrodden two days in a row (though somehow, Sirius finds today to be much worse), his cheeks stained with tears, tears that are still falling from his lifeless eyes…
Without hesitation, Sirius and Remus pull him into the middle of their embrace.
“How could he get away with it for so long?” James murmurs into Sirius’s chest, sandwiched snuggly between the two.
“I had no idea -”
Without looking up, the Chaser lightly pulls on a lock of Sirius’s hair. “Don’t be a prat. Trust me when I say, I know you would have done something if you had.”
“Probably something stupid and obnoxiously reckless,” Sirius hesitantly jokes, relieved when his best mate chuckles.
Remus presses a kiss to the top of his head, and Sirius is proud of himself for not getting testy when his boyfriend then does the same to James. “I’d be very displeased if either of you ended up in Azkaban.”
“Dumbledore...” Straightening up, James exhales loudly. “Even after everything, he’s not going to expel Travers, is he?”
“It’s very unlikely,” Sirius admits.
His friend doesn’t seem surprised by his answer, but a muscle twitches in his jaw. “You remember what McGonagall said about in-person parent conferences if we get in a fight?”
Sirius and Remus exchange another wary look.
“Yes…”
“If he does get off, can I count on you to make a distraction for me, Padfoot?”
Oof, Remus cuts that off real quick. “No. Andromeda was right, the Blacks cannot afford to have a ‘meltdown’ in this situation. Tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”
James leans forward to whisper it to Remus, but shamelessly nosy, Sirius sticks his ear right next to his boyfriend’s.
After hearing his friend’s plan, along with the reasoning behind it, the kindest of the four Marauders inclines his head. “If things fall the way you expect,” Remus says, his expression one of lionhearted determination, “consider it done.”
A pleased grin blooms across Sirius’s face. “I confess… I’m like really attracted to you right now.”
Will this plan work? It might, it might not. But he’ll always be open to people wanting to fight for Regulus, no matter how kooky their ideas are.
James makes a face. “Blegh.”
“Both of you.”
The Chaser’s gaze becomes considering, and Sirius does not swoon when Remus tugs him closer and huffs, “Get your own Black, this one is mine.”
“In all seriousness,” Sirius says, deciding it’s best if they don’t go down this particular path at the current moment, “when we get in there, do not look ole’ Dumbles in the eye, okay? Either of you.”
In the middle of drying his face, James frowns. “I don’t doubt he’s a Legilimens. It makes sense considering how powerful he is, but you really think he’d use it on his students?”
“The ethics of that is so -”
“I am certain my brother would love to discuss that with you at a later time, Moonbeam,” Sirius interrupts Remus, fondly rolling his eyes. “Reggie generally keeps his opinions to himself, but with the right prodding, his rants are legendary. What you saw that day in the Great Hall was only a mere glimpse.”
Before either of them can respond, Andromeda’s voice has them hurriedly unravelling from each other. “Pandora, where’s Regulus?”
Stepping back into the hallway, Sirius spots his brother’s best friend walking towards them; although her eyes are red and puffy, the corners of her lips are pulling up, which instantly soothes his worry that something else happened. Using their bond, Sirius searches for his brother, how is he so close, when I don’t see him anywhere? He’s about to ask Hogwarts herself when a faint ‘ahem’ has them lifting their gazes upwards.
Across from the entrance to the Headmaster’s office, high above their heads, is a magnificent half-round stained glass window depicting the four Founders. And there, sitting on the thin window ledge, his feet dangling in the air like he’s not precariously perched twenty feet above the ground, is one Regulus Black.
“How did you get up there?!” Andromeda gasps, craning her neck to get a good look at her youngest cousin.
With the smuggest grin Sirius has ever seen on anyone, let alone baby Reg, he shrugs. “Climbed, of course.”
“Wow, you weren’t kidding, James,” Remus mutters. “He really is the far opposite of Sirius.” That’s rude but also true; Sirius is good at a lot of things, but climbing is not one of them.
Narcissa then asks what they’re all thinking. “Climbed what, precisely, and how did you manage it so quickly?” There’s nothing but straight brick and mortar, absolutely nothing for him to dig his fingers into, unless he’s somehow developed the ability to stick to things… “REGULUS, NO!”
“Catch, Potter,” the younger Slytherin giggles, pushing himself off the ledge. Thank fucking Merlin, he lands right in James Potter’s open arms. “That was fun.”
Clinging tightly to Remus, Sirius worries he might faint - Regulus could have gone splat, right in front of their eyes! “NEVER do that again, Regulus Arcturus! I think you just took twenty years off my life!!!!!!”
“Blimey, Reg!” James exclaims, still holding the Slytherin bridal-style in his arms. “What if I hadn’t caught you?!”
Reggie lost his marbles, succumbed to the Black Family Madness, Sirius thinks hysterically. Another thing to blame on Travers.
He’s too shaken to blanch when his brother sweetly pecks James on the lips. “I knew you would. I trust you.” Wiggling his way out of the stunned Gryffindor's hold, Regulus smooths down his robes, and with false cheer says, “Well, best get back to it, I think.”
“Regulus.”
Immediately, the younger boy’s shoulders slump. “No speeches, please.” Fine, Sirius will just - “And no apologies either.” Ugh, damnit! “It’s in the past, and absolutely none of it was anyone’s fault... except for that twat, Larson Travers.”
“It’s not your fault either.” By the way Regulus flinches at James’s words, he clearly hit a sore spot. “You didn’t deserve any of it, Regulus. Nobody deserves that, and just so we're clear, NONE of what Travers said is true, do you understand? He lied, Regulus. It's all bollocks."
Gray eyes flashing, Regulus snarls, “Awfully rich coming from -”
“Someone who’s been on the opposite side of something similar?” James snaps back, his voice thick with emotion. “Which trust me, I do not feel good about. But it means I can speak from experience when I say that you, like Snape, do not deserve such abhorrent, appalling, utterly revolting treatment!”
After sharing a fleeting glance with his best mate, Sirius knows they’re both thinking the same thing - Snape ALWAYS fought back.
The admission rips the fight right out of Regulus. With a baleful glare at the Potter heir, Regulus shuffles forward to stand directly in front of Sirius, his gaze lowered to the ground.
“Go on then. Say your peace, brother.”
Fuck, what can Sirius say without risking upsetting Regulus further? A huge part of him wants to grab his brother and shake him senseless, why didn’t you fight back?! Why didn’t you tell anyone, me, our cousins, your friends, Slughorn, Fawley, the twins, or fuck, even Snape?
But mere seconds ago, Regulus unintentionally answered that question, didn’t he? For some sodding reason, he thought he deserved it. Thinks, he deserved it.
And that’s a whole ‘nother trunk of flobberworms they’ll need to unpack later.
To avoid spooking his jittery sibling, Sirius cautiously winds his arms around the younger boy's shoulders. “Obviously, I second what James said, and I am already mentally crafting my apology speech to Sev,” Regulus makes a distressed sound that has them all cracking smiles. “Which Rem will of course proofread. As for saying my peace, I will keep it simple for once. I love you with all my heart, little star, and anyone who interferes with my mission to give you the world will be obliterated from existence. Painfully.”
Regulus scrunches his nose up, and Sirius can already hear, ‘You promised you wouldn’t retaliate’, so he quickly adds, “And I’m proud of you, Reg. It took guts to do what you did in the Great Hall, not a lot of people could have managed it. Myself included.”
“Pfft, you never would have been in the same -”
“Who’s to say?” Sirius argues, refusing to let his brother compare them. “Same family or not, we were raised differently. Being the oldest meant different pressures, different teachings. What if you’d been born first? How might you have turned out then?” He brushes one of Regulus’s stubborn curls off his forehead. “And regardless of all that, you set aside your apprehension and dislike of confrontation to give that fucker a good dressing down in front of half the school, without resorting to brawling or dueling. I find that admirable. I could not have done what you did, and we all know it.”
“I wasn’t even standing up for myself, not really -”
“Stop trying to reason with me, Regulus!” Sirius growls. “I am proud of you, and there's nothing you can say that will change that!”
His brother’s silent for ages, before muttering, “You’re a git.”
“Takes one to know one.”
Notes:
Ahhh, poor Reggie, I'm so sorry! (Always remember, in spite of any suffering that has occurred/might occur, this series WILL have a happy ending for the main characters. I promise <3 )
And on a (comparatively) lighter note, the Sirius and Reg kid fic about why the Permanent Sticking Charm is 'forbidden' magic within the Black family is finished! It's called life lessons that really stick, and is part 2 since it contains some plot spoilers for grim omens. Despite the premise of childhood trauma and murder, I think it's actually really cute and sweet? At least for a fic that's centered around Walburga and Orion lol
Chapter 40: Burn It Down
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Exactly fifteen minutes after their break began, the gargoyle in front of Dumbledore’s office leaps aside. Sirius takes two steps forward before a hand clamps down on the back of his neck, gripping tightly enough to bruise. Again.
"Is everything alright?"
Andromeda smiles sweetly at the youngest Black. “Yes, we’ll be right behind you. Just need to have a quick word with Siri.” Regulus hesitates, bless him. But thanks to Sirius’s (faked) reassuring nod, he allows Narcissa to loop her arm through his and lead him away. “I KNOW that look, Sirius Orion!" the older girl hisses when they’re out of earshot. “Whatever it is you’re planning to do in there, do not -”
Sirius holds his hands up placatingly. “I’m not planning to do anything other than silently envision all the ways I can murder Travers.”
Which is true!
Sirius is not stupid enough to dob in Remus and James… besides, not that he’d EVER say it out loud, but the more he thinks about it, the less sure he is that Remus will be able to create the type of distraction James needs. They haven’t begun studying nonverbal magic yet, let alone wandless. Hell, Sirius is only decent at wandless magic for two simple reasons:
One - every single fiber of his being is stubborn beyond comprehension
Two - as cheesy as it is, he’s delusional enough to believe he can do anything he sets his mind to.
Performing magic without a wand takes a great deal of self control, but paradoxically, it involves relinquishing it too. Becoming in tune with the magic flowing through your body requires a lot of relaxing and letting things go (which is why things tend to go BOOM around Sirius... which may or may not be intentional depending on the day). Or as Grandmother would say, ‘Magic is tied to our emotions. You can’t tamp down on it forever, that’s an accident waiting to happen. First, you need to feel it coursing through your veins. Then, with plenty of practice, you learn how to properly channel it. In time, casting without a wand becomes second nature’.
There’s no doubt in Sirius’s mind that Remus is as smart and magically powerful as him (if not smarter… and more magically powerful, sigh). But his boyfriend’s furry little problem has made him ace at suppressing his emotions and staying in control, all that rubbish Sirius is pants at.
Oooh, oooh, that’s it! he gasps internally, struck with an epiphany. THAT is how we solve the nonverbal/wandless magic dilemma with Regulus too! Fuck, I am so brilliant, aren’t I?
(Sirius elects to ignore how incredibly difficult it’s going to be to get Reg and Rem to loosen up - a problem for another day, he thinks).
So, anywho, unless Remus can find a way to keep his hand on his wand… yeah, James is gonna have to figure it out on his own.
“I don’t understand why you think you can lie to ME,” Andromeda shakes him by the shoulders, “you little -”
“You’re barking up the wrong tree, Andie.” Swallowing his fear, Sirius squirms out of Andromeda’s hold and bravely meets her eyes… while raising his Occlumency shields, because trust issues. “I’m gonna be on my best behavior, just like you told me to fifteen minutes ago.” For added effect, he crosses his heart.
They stare silently at each other for several moments, long enough for Narcissa to call out, “Are you two coming?”
“No matter what happens in there,” Andromeda says, rudely pushing him towards the staircase, “it’s not going to be the end of the situation, you understand that, right?” Sirius nods, because yeah; hating it down to his very essence doesn’t mean it’s not true. The psychological damage Travers did to Regulus is going to take years to heal… assuming it’s reversible. “So, you won’t be doing Regulus any favors by getting yourself expelled, or sent to Azkaban for attempted murder -"
Spinning around to glare at her, Sirius growls, “Attempted?! You really think so little of me, cousin?”
“Sirius, I think the world of you,” she says quietly, looking him directly in the eye. “The both of you, which is why I don’t particularly care for the idea of you recklessly throwing your life away.”
Her sincerity, the heaviness in her gaze, leads him to a startling conclusion - Andromeda is just as upset and rattled by what Regulus endured, right under their noses no less, as Sirius and Narcissa are. Of course, he didn’t think she was thrilled about it or anything, but Sirius didn’t realize… she was completely calm and composed, outwardly unaffected throughout the entire tale. Like it wasn’t something to get worked up about.
Growing up, Andromeda was taught the same Pureblood values as him, yet she never once spoke out against them, never once looked troubled when the term ‘Mudblood’ was used in her presence. And now she's planning to marry a Muggleborn Hufflepuff. It's interesting, isn't it? How that can be the case?
Sirius can’t stop himself from wondering, Do I know her at all?
Merlin, you are dramatic, huh? his inner voice scoffs, sounding suspiciously like Death himself. Think of it like this. Not only is Andromeda a Black, she’s the oldest of the four of you. Since Bella is a one-woman show, it means Andie’s always had to squash down her emotions for the good of the family. Putting everyone else - you, Reg, Cissa, even Bella - ahead of herself.
Something passes between them right then, an understanding of sorts. Sirius is well aware that he’s selfish, self-absorbed, self-obsessed, the whole nine. But until now, it never occurred to him how difficult the last few days must have been for his cousin, how stressful. Andromeda took a HUGE risk standing by his side on Friday, and all she can do is hope that the Black patriarch takes Sirius’s threats, well… seriously.
His heart swells with affection for her.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier,” Sirius says in a rush, stepping off the staircase and onto the landing. “But thank you for your support the other day with my parents, Andromeda. I’m proud to share blood with someone as strong and brave as you. You’ll always be my family, and there is nothing the elders can say or do that will change that… even if Reggie was right, and you’re the scariest of us Blacks.”
Feeling sentimental, Sirius wraps her in a short but crushing hug.
“He’s cheating on you, Lupin,” Travers ‘whispers’ to Remus when they enter the Headmaster’s office. “Look how flushed he is after hugging... oi, watch it!”
Sirius grins innocently. “Oops, I tripped.” And if his elbow happened to connect with the back of that arsehole’s head, it’s totally a coincidence.
He becomes fully convinced they’re about to hear bad news when Professor McGonagall doesn’t give him her patented, Sirius-specific, ‘I-Know-You-Are-Better-Than-That’ look. It’s probably because she’s too busy glaring daggers at Dumbledore… bloody hell, even Sluggy seems disconcerted! Shortly after they’re all seated, the Slytherin Head of House abandons his post behind Travers to stand beside McGonagall, a spot that puts him at the back of Regulus’s seat.
So, to absolutely no one’s surprise, Larson Travers isn’t expelled.
(Even after he brazenly declared that his father will enact a Blood Feud with the Blacks in retaliation for the slight against their family. Regulus calmly responded to the useless threat with a contemplative, ‘Hmm, I’m not sure Muggles have Blood Feuds, so you might need to do some research on that’… needless to say, that did not go over well).
The one-month suspension Travers receives will grant them a small reprieve from him, but whilst making another brotherly incest barb, the cretin revealed that Sirius has been sleeping in Slytherin for ‘almost the entire term’. Thanks to Andromeda and Remus’s quick witted tag-teaming, the brothers escape punishment for the ‘rule breaking’ (it’s hard to say for certain, but neither Dumbledore, Slughorn, nor McGonagall seemed overly surprised by the information). But whether they knew already matters not - Sirius is forbidden from sleeping anywhere other than the fifth-year Gryffindor boys’ dorm.
It’s a ruling Sirius has mixed feelings about. He genuinely misses his friends, misses the fun and chaos of his own dorm and the Gryffindor Common Room. But there’s nothing Sirius despises more than being forbidden from doing something that causes absolutely zero issues for anyone, solely because ‘it’s the rules’? Fuck that! How is Sirius supposed to watch over his brother now? Their bond and the Marauder’s Map - which isn’t even finished yet - can only tell him so much about Regulus’s state of mind. And Hogwarts is a big place! When you’re in your dorm with your friends/housemates, spending huge chunks of time with the same people day in and day out, it’s easy to forget ‘outsiders’ exist. What if Regulus forgets about him? Between schoolwork, Quidditch, his extracurricular readings, spending time with his friends, and now his new… special friend… where does Sirius fit into his brother’s life? Seeing Regulus at night, tucked away behind the silencing charms imbued in his bed curtains, is visual confirmation that his brother is alright (or as alright as can be expected). And when that tosser comes back?! It’s Sirius’s duty to watch over his little brother, Father said so from the moment Regulus was born. How can he protect someone from seven floors away?
Hmm… maybe a compromise can be arranged, because this just won’t do.
The proceedings are wrapping up, but there’s been no distraction to speak of. James keeps shooting furtive glances at Remus, with absolutely no subtlety at all. Like McGonagall is with Dumbledore, Andromeda is also glaring daggers at someone - Sirius himself. Narcissa would rip her fingernails off with her teeth before admitting it, but she idolizes her big sister, so now there are two pairs of eyes burning holes into the side of Sirius's head, rather than one. It does, however, mean they aren’t looking at James, who is looking at Remus, who is looking down at his hands, his face scrunched up in concentration, which is not suspicious at all. So, small mercies.
Maybe I should just… give Rem a bit of a head start? Sirius muses to himself. Obviously, the worst they’ll do is suspend me. I think Minnie would curse Dumbles bald if he tried to punish Reggie for my actions. And honestly, academics wise, I could take my O.W.L.s today and score straight O’s, so missing a month or two of lessons wouldn’t matter.
Being suspended also means ample time to plot with Father and Uncle Alphard. While Sirius normally avoids Grimmauld Place like the plague, he wouldn’t mind a short break from Hogwarts, especially if he can convince Regulus to take a sabbatical with him. Back at home, Sirius can recruit a relative to mentor him in Apparition. It shouldn’t be too hard, because; one, none of those rich louts have jobs, and two, no Black has ever been fussed over a silly thing like the law (Sirius could definitely figure it out on his own, but on the off-chance he splinches himself… he won't put his beauty at risk when it’s so unnecessary!). With that skill mastered, he can pop over to Hogsmeade and meet the Marauders whenever he wanted. Better yet, to entice Regulus to return home, Sirius can dangle James in front of him, like luring a rabbit with a carrot tied to a stick, 'You can spend time with James, while avoiding all the other losers at school, wouldn't that be grand?'
And last but not least, Sirius will be able to figure out what the fuck Mother’s problem is!
The downside to his genius plan would be Remus being miffed with him. First, for doing something ‘bad’ that goes on his Hogwarts record, the swot, and secondly, for not trusting Remus to do it himself. He’d have to convince his boyfriend that his intervention was an accident. Fortunately, Sirius is a great actor, so he thinks he can pull it off. Lying to his beloved is uncomfortable, but for Regulus's sake, Sirius will suck it up. Besides, being able to go on their first date when it isn’t a Hogsmeade weekend, a time when all the shops are overflowing with students…
Wow, getting suspended is sounding better and better!
Either way, Sirius will be bloody grateful to be free from this hellacious office. Not only does he want to get far, far away from everyone, so he can curl up in a ball and bawl, but the room has become stifling, oppressively so. Sirius scrunches his nose when a bead of sweat drips down the back of his neck. Blimey, this isn't normal for September!
Something strange catches his eye.
The walls of the Headmaster’s circular office are covered in elaborate bookcases. To the left of Dumbledore’s winged-back chair, a thick tome wiggles out from the neatly-lined row of books on one of those bookcases, creeping towards the edge of the shelf…
THUMP.
Even though he saw it happening, Sirius still jumps at the deafening noise, which reverberates peculiarly throughout the office.
Glancing over his shoulder, Dumbledore makes a noise of confusion. “How strange.” Picking up the fallen book, the elderly wizard turns back around with a pleasant smile. “Not to worry, children… oh my.”
This is the first time all afternoon where Dumbledore has looked troubled. Sirius whips around in alarm, and oh my indeed.
The entire back half of the Headmaster’s office is a scorching inferno. Books writhe as if in pain, their pages aflame. Some scream horridly, like real people are trapped within the pages. Silver devices spin and hum agitatedly, adding to the cacophony of noise. As flames race up the walls, inching closer and closer to the frames of old Headmasters and Headmistresses, those in the path of destruction dart into other portraits. Several temporarily delay their evacuation to whisper to each other, while a few make ardent calls for action, for justice, ‘This is what happens when misdeeds go unpunished!’ one furiously declares. ‘You wrought this despair upon yourself, Dumbledore!’ another shouts.
Sirius catches the eye of his ancestor, Phineas Nigellus Black. The former Headmaster inclines his head, his painted eyes blazing with a different sort of fire, before he disappears from his frame. No doubt, he’s going to his other portrait in Grimmauld Place. Truthfully, Sirius isn't sure how he feels about that, but it's another problem for another day.
Across from Fawkes’s perch, the Sorting Hat’s rumbling words echo throughout the room. “Sometimes, fire is necessary! To forge change, to cleanse injustice. Even if we don’t think we need it, we do. Embrace it, and you will be all the wiser for it.”
"Perhaps, but this is a bit much," Slughorn counters with a hearty laugh. The Sorting Hat makes a noncommittal noise.
“Sirius, I know you are upset by this,” Professor McGonagall says quietly, peering down at him with significantly less disappointment/annoyance than he'd expect. “As you have every right to be. But destroying the Headmaster’s office is not the answer!”
Others in the room are less kind in their assessments.
“Sirius, you dunce, stop this madness at once!” Andromeda demands, covering the bottom half of her face with the sleeve of her robe.
Not one to pass up an opportunity to berate the cousin closest to her in age, Narcissa snaps, “Are you bloody well trying to kill us all?! Because let me be very clear, Sirius... I WILL haunt you relentlessly in the afterlife if this is how we end.”
“I’m not doing anything!” Whelp, it's not gonna be the fire that kills him, but the heat of his cousins’ glares. “I swear it’s not me. You can even ask Bella! Fire is not my style, especially not like this.” That’s partially true - Sirius does have a tendency to start blazes when he’s frustrated or upset, but they’re more like small brush fires. This, on the other hand, is a fully-fledged forest fire. “I’m more prone to setting people on fire, as she can confirm.”
“That is not the reassurance you think it is,” his Head of House tuts.
“Like their robes,” Sirius hastily clarifies. “Or hair.” Huh, he really thought that would appease her. Women are so strange... thank goodness he’s gay!
“Who’s the attempted murderer now?” Travers scoffs.
James and the Blacks, sans Regulus, respond in unison. “Still you.”
Slughorn and McGonagall peel themselves away to battle the blaze, but Dumbledore remains seated. Despite the firestorm Remus has created, it’s not enough. They need more.
“Not to worry, I can fix it.” Before the first word left his lips, Sirius was up and out of his seat. Meaning, the cries of, ‘No!’ and ‘Not the window, you moron!’ don’t deter him. “All we need is some fresh air!”
Fun fact:
Fire + Air (Oxygen) = Bad
Unless you want the fire to get bigger and smokier.
If so:
Fire + Air (Oxygen) = Good
Flinging the window open, a breeze that may or may not be magical rushes into the room. The fire rejoices, crackling and popping like it’s singing an upbeat tune. Its flames dance higher and higher up the walls, while simultaneously creeping towards the room’s human occupants.
“Godric’s Gumdrops, Dumbledore!” the Sorting Hat cries when the fire gets too close for comfort. Its ‘mouth’ tries to blow out the flames with little success. “I’m too old for this rubbish, do something!!” Perhaps Sirius is crazy, but he swears the raggedy ole’ hat winks at him.
Barking orders at the two Heads of Houses, Dumbledore leaves his fancy chair to join the fray. With a swish of his wrinkled hand, the window slams closed, but the damage is done. Now that the three teachers are occupied trying to tame the roaring blaze, James is free to pick the fight he wanted.
Nodding at his best mate when they pass each other, Sirius whispers, "Best of luck, mate. And should you 'accidentally' take it too far, Aunt Cassi knows a bloke who can get it sorted in a jiffy."
"I'll keep it in mind." The Chaser’s grim mask of determination doesn't falter. Normally, Sirius would dismiss his words as a joke, but the cruel glint in James’s eyes is something the Black heir has only ever seen in his own reflection.
It'll be fine, Sirius assures himself. James is inherently good. That's why he's doing this and not me. Because I would end the day with a murder charge, which would be awful. Azkaban just does not fit my lifestyle.
Next stop - the bloke who actually caused the blaze.
Bent over at the waist, Remus's face is hidden in his hands. His shoulders are pulled so tautly together, Sirius can see the outline of them through his sweat-soaked robes.
“Love, are you alright?”
“Yes,” Remus croaks, blindly shoving the other Gryffindor away. “Get out of here, Sirius. I’m fine, but you all need to go.”
Yeah, fat chance.
However…
“What are you doing?!” Regulus hisses when Sirius yanks him out of his chair. “Burning down Dumbledore’s office is childish, brother, as is knocking me to the floor!”
Dumbles deserves way worse than this, Sirius thinks spitefully in his head.
“One,” the Gryffindor-Black says matter-of-factly, “I’m not doing a diddly darn thing. Two, your lungs are still healing, Reggie. Don’t you know basic fire safety?” Under his breath, Sirius mutters, "Sheesh, what are they teaching kids these days?"
His brother's expression becomes apoplectic. “You're suggesting that I do not know basic fire -”
“Smoke rises, so we need to stay low to the ground, you silly snake.”
There’s a booming explosion behind them. The floor shakes with such force, it feels like they’re in the epicenter of an earthquake. The smoke thickens and spreads throughout the room. Sirius, whose lungs were healthy last he checked, smothers a hacking cough into his shoulder. Eyes watering something fierce, he cautiously shuffles towards the right, searching for his brother. He squints as much as he can stand, but it’s pointless. Mere seconds ago, Sirius could see Regulus clearly. Now? He can’t see his own hand centimeters in front of his face.
His fingers come in contact with what he thinks might be a leg…
“Oww!” Sirius cries, holding his stinging cheek. “Regulus, what the fuck!”
“Ah, I'm not the little prince.” Pandora pats his ear consolingly. “Sorry, instant reflex to a bad touch like that.”
The Gryffindor-Black cringes. “Sorry, love, not trying to make a move or anything. Can’t see all that well.”
“Yeah, you and me both.”
There’s a very loud grunt that sounds like James found Travers without problem.
Keeping his hands in his lap, where they are safe, Sirius calls out, "Regulus? Reggie? Where doth be, little star?”
Doing something reckless, no doubt, Mother’s scornful voice spits in the back of his head. A combination of your bad influence and total inability to keep your brother in check.
His brother is still in the room, Sirius is certain of that. But according to their bond, Regulus has moved towards the flames, rather than away. Obviously, the fire must be messing with their connection, because that can't be right.
Sirius does summon another Black to him, just not the one he was hoping for.
Narcissa crawls towards them on her hand and knees. “What the actual fuck are you doing?!” In her other hand, she holds her wand aloft, waving it back and forth to clear a path in the smoke, huh, that’s smart… not that I’ll ever tell her that, of course. “Genuinely, are you trying to kill us all?”
“I told you, Cissa, it’s not me!”
Remembering he is also magical, Sirius wandlessly pushes the smoke away from them. But the smoke must be magical too; it batters his invisible barricade without mercy, meaning he can only extend it a short distance away from himself while maintaining it. Pandora and Narcissa make it within the boundary, but Sirius cannot see anything other than the two witches and the ghastly carpet beneath them (honestly, before this is all over, he might incinerate the wretched thing. Dumbledore doesn’t deserve any favors from him, but really, Sirius would be doing it for himself).
Blue eyes widen in understanding. “Control your boyfriend, then!”
“I don’t control Remus, what the fuck?”
Another clangorous explosion rocks the room. A torrent of wizard swears follows, some so vulgar, Sirius feels his ears burn. Why... who... what does that even mean?!
“Sweet Merlin, Minerva, the children!” Slughorn cries, aghast.
“Not to fear, good sirs and lovely lady,” Sirius shouts back, hoping to mask the sounds of what is clearly a savage brawl going on. Although, that might not be the best term to use... what in the world would make Travers bellow like that? That was Travers, right? “We won’t say a peep!” (a bold-faced lie if there ever was one - he will definitely be using some of those in the future).
Briefly, Sirius wonders if there's more to be worried about in that whole bit between James and Travers than first thought. Travers was a shite Beater with terrible aim, yet he could whack a Bludger pretty far. Ugh, but with Regulus missing, and Remus about to tear the office down around them, he'll have to trust James can hold his own.
“All of you need to leave now!” the Gryffindor Head of House orders. A brilliant blue archway appears a short distance away from Sirius and the girls. “The barrier will let you pass, while preventing any additional oxygen from getting into the room.” The ensuing pause seems very intentional.
Taking offense to the unspoken admonishment, Sirius fibs, “How was I supposed to know opening a window would make the fire worse?! It’s not my fault there’s no Basic Life Lessons class taught at Hogwarts!”
Oh, he can hear the three teachers roll their eyes.
But they know he isn't wrong either, so ha!
“Ms. Black… both of you, please supervise your peers as they evacuate at once,” Slughorn directs in a much kinder tone. Merlin, they really are his favorites, huh? “Chop, chop, this fire waits for no one!”
“Wait for us in the corridor, if you would be so kind,” Dumbledore adds, his voice lively and all too chipper given the situation. It sounds like he’s having the time of his life battling the blaze trying to destroy his office.
Like magic itself, fire can be a finicky thing.
With a gleeful-sounding warble, the flames seem to come to life. Surging along the perimeter of the office, they successfully trap the humans within a ring of fire.
“Rotten luck,” Sirius mutters to himself. Noticing Pandora's fearful expression, he sends her a reassuring smile. “Not to worry, poppet, Rem won’t hurt us.”
"Are you sure?" Narcissa grumbles.
"Yes -"
“Brother, you need to do something, or we will get hurt,” Regulus says, appearing out of nowhere and scaring the living daylights out of his older brother. Covered in soot and reeking of smoke, he keeps his gaze trained on the ground, unruly curls obscuring most of his face. Sirius’s eyes narrow. There’s something very dodgy about Reg's demeanor, including the way he’s holding himself, half turned away from them. “Hello? Did you hear me? Or is this the part where you tell me you do have a death wish?"
"I hate to burst your bubble, Reg -"
"Liar."
"But I do not have a death wish, so stop sounding excited by the prospect!" Mentally crossing his fingers, Sirius silently prays the elf responds. “Pipsy!” After counting to five in his head, there’s still no sign of her. “BROLLY!”
He’ll call for Kreacher if he has to, he is not playing right now!
Pop.
At eye level, Pipsy looks even sassier than usual. “You’re a very impatient wizard, Sirius Black.”
“Won’t deny that,” Sirius half-shrugs. “However, I believe this situation warrants a bit of impatience, yeah?” He gestures behind him in lieu of explanation.
Peering around the burning office, the elf presses her hands against her cheeks. “Oh dear, oh dear… what is Sirius Black be doing to the good Headmaster’s office?!”
“Oi! Not a diddly darn thing, missy!” Sirius scowls at the elf, who sticks her tongue out at him. “Now, if you would be so kind, the fire is blocking the exit, and Regulus’s lungs are not what they used to be.”
“Oh dear, oh dear,” Pipsy echoes, while holding a hand out for Regulus.
The Slytherin doesn’t take it. “Pandora should go first,” he mumbles, still not looking up.
Extending her other hand, which the Ravenclaw takes with an amused smile, Pipsy huffs, “It’s a good thing Pipsy has two hands, Regulus Black!”
“And then our cousins -” Regulus’s words are cut off when the elf pops away.
“Do you think Dumbledore would free her once Baby Reg comes of age?” A look of relief passes over Narcissa's face when Andromeda comes into view. The enormous bubble around her head distorts her features, but Sirius can still make out her unimpressed glare. "I think she'd be good for him."
“Would be nice, wouldn’t it? But hey, when Pipsy comes back, make sure she gets James too, would ya? He’s uhh… presently occupied.”
Sirius doesn’t wait for a response... not because he's afraid of Andromeda, or puts any stock in Regulus's warning. He just needs to check on his boyfriend, that's all. Crawling over to where he thinks Remus is, Sirius has to focus his full concentration on pushing the smoke away from him, while not hacking up a lung at the same time. What he finds makes his heart ache. Still hunched over, Remus’s hands grip tightly to his hair. His robes are soaked with sweat, and his shoulders heave up and down, so quick, he's either hyperventilating or silently sobbing.
Turns out, the answer is both.
“Hey, Moonbeam,” Sirius whispers adoringly, coming to a halt in front of his boyfriend. Carefully, he urges Remus’s fingers to release his hair. “You can stop now, my love.”
“I c-can’t,” he rasps, his voice thick from crying. “I can’t control it, Siri, I tried, I tried to reign it in, but it won’t stop, it won't stop, please, make it stop, please, please, please.”
Brushing Remus's damp hair out his eyes, Sirius places a delicate kiss on each of his eyebrows. “It’s hard, love, I know.” At some point, Remus must have unbuttoned half of his robes in a bid to cool down, along with the shirt underneath. Sirius swallows uncomfortably, his eyes following the path of a droplet of sweat gliding down the werewolf’s neck, traveling down his smooth chest… NO, NOT THE TIME, bad brain, BAD! “But first, I need you to breathe -”
“I can’t!” The temperature increases several degrees. Within seconds, Sirius is drenched in his own sweat too. In spite of the teachers’ best efforts, the blaze seems to have no intention of stopping, at least not until it devours everything in the room. “Sirius, p-please.” Remus gasps for air. “Sirius, leave, please, please go, I can’t hurt you, please.”
“You’d never,” he says forcefully, truthfully, believing it with every fiber of his soul, no matter what Regulus said. However, setting aside his own magic’s penchant for setting everything ablaze, Sirius actually isn’t a fan of fire. Like at all.
Wait a ‘mo…
This is very déjà vu.
Earlier in the corridor, Remus remarked that Sirius's little romantic heart didn’t want their first kiss to be right then, he was just hurting… and that was correct. But now, it’s Remus who is hurting, hurting because he wanted to help James get back at the tosser who abused Sirius’s baby brother for years.
In Sirius's mind, nothing could be more romantic than this.
… besides, anything James can do, Sirius can do with equal, if not more, success.
Curling his fingers into Remus’s white shirt, Sirius yanks him down and slams their mouths together, a wee bit harder than intended. His boyfriend stiffens, something Sirius didn’t think possible considering how tense he already was. Worse, the kiss goes unreturned for one, two, three, four, FIVE seconds. Mortified, Sirius leans back, but Remus grabs him by the shoulders before he can flee… to Siberia, most likely.
“I’m so sorry,” the Black heir stammers, struggling to control his own rising hysteria. “Very, very sorry, love. Would you… perhaps… be so kind, as to uhhh… let me Obliviate the both of us? Pretty please? Won’t hurt a bit, I promise.”
Remus doesn’t respond. Refocusing his attention on preventing the smoke from engulfing them, Sirius steadfastly refuses to look at the other Gryffindor, given our predicament, would it count as self-combustion if I suddenly burst into flames? I feel like it would. Which is perfect, cuz I don’t want Rem to blame himself for my death, of course.
A finger presses down on Sirius’s lower lip, freeing it from being torn apart by his fretful mannerisms, the same fretful mannerisms he didn’t even realize he was doing. Like always, his gaze finds its way back to Remus’s. Amusement flickers in the werewolf’s eyes, slowly overshadowing the panic… which is all well and good, but Sirius cannot relate, because he feels like he’s about to die on the spot, this is the most humiliating moment of his entire LIFE. Maybe Regulus had the right idea when he spent Merlin-knows-how-long practicing his snogging skills with Evan, because fuck.
Remus gently rests his glistening forehead on Sirius’s sweaty one, his gaze searching for signs of… something. An explanation, maybe?
Whatever he’s looking for, he must find it. When their lips meet for the second time, it’s soft and hesitant. Nervous. Sirius scoots forward, carefully, reluctant to have another mishap like the one from before. But Remus nudges him backwards without breaking their kiss, which is simultaneously confusing and humiliating at the same time. That is, until Sirius realizes there are now fingers tangled in his long locks, and Remus isn’t breaking the kiss, because he's… oh, he’s joining him on the floor. Legs splayed wide, he drags Sirius closer, grabbing insistently at his thighs. Taking the hint, Sirius wraps his legs around Remus’s lean waist, and yeah… this is good, better than he ever dreamed (which he did dream about, a lot, because he’s been a goner for Remus Lupin for years now).
The world fades away, leaving only the warmth of each other’s breath, rather than the heat from the fire around them. Remus’s hands cradle Sirius's face like he’s something precious, something to treasure. It makes Sirius's heart pound in his chest so intensely, he worries it’s going to explode out of him.
They’re the ones in desperate need of oxygen when they separate, but it’s still too soon for Sirius’s liking. Without his permission, a whine escapes his throat, one he tries to play off as a cough. Which, given the circumstances, Sirius cannot be faulted for!
A shudder runs through the werewolf. Remus says nothing, though his breathing seems to be easier than before.
“I’ve got you, Moony, I’ve got you." Sirius peppers his boyfriend's face with light smooches, something he's wanted to do for a long, long time. “You’re alright.”
“No.”
Sirius blinks. “You’re not alright?” Gray eyes sweep across the fiery landscape Dumbledore’s office has become; it’s the first time since everything started that the teachers appear to have made a dent in the blaze. "Things seem better, yeah?"
“I’m alright, thanks to you.” Remus places a soft kiss on their linked fingers. “But no, you can’t Obliviate me. Or yourself. I want to remember this moment forever.” Huh, how strange. There’s a sudden flurry of butterflies in Sirius’s tummy, wonder where those came from? His boyfriend’s nose scrunches. “Erm… the part between us, I mean.” He waves a hand haphazardly around the charred room. “Not this part.”
“I told you my kisses were magical!” Sirius says, unable to hold back his self-satisfied smile. “Didn’t I?”
The expected response to such ‘arrogance’ is either laughter, eye rolling, or scoffing. Maybe a combination of two or more, if Remus is feeling spritely. This time, Moony does none of those. Instead, something shifts in his demeanor, something Sirius can’t quite put his finger on.
In a voice several octaves lower than his usual timber, Remus muses, “You did say that, didn’t you?”
Wow, heh, is it getting hot in here again, or is it just Moony?
Feeling courageous, reckless, stupid, rash, foolhardy, Sirius lifts his gaze to meet his boyfriend’s green… amber and green… eyes. "Uh huh," he gulps.
Why does he suddenly feel like prey?
… that should probably bother him more than it does, shouldn’t it?
Ooohh, that’s right. The moon is a few days away. And that would be exciting, if his daft best mates had mastered the Animagus transformation already, like Sirius himself did. Moonbeam was very adamant that all three of them had to succeed before they could join him in the Shrieking Shack for his transformation, because he wasn’t ‘taking any chances’, blah, blah, blah.
“I confess, it makes a bloke wonder,” Remus whispers right in Sirius’s ear. “What else of yours is magical, my love?”
Oh Godric, oh Godric, he’s teasing me, I know he is. In the ‘awfully close to bullying' kind of way, not the… nighttime… kind of teasing. How am I supposed to respond to this?!
Within the Marauders, Sirius is known as the ‘flirtatious’ one, with James being a distant second. Blimey, Peter flirts more than their best werewolf pal does (though to Sirius’s immense displeasure, it doesn’t stop their peers from throwing themselves at Remus’s feet). The moon being so close would explain Remus’s uncharacteristic boldness.
Unless…
No, no, no, he would have told me if he’s been with someone else.
… wouldn’t he?
“What else of mine is magical?” the Black heir squeaks, his cheeks blazing hotter than the room. “Well…. erm… m-my heart?”
Remus blinks. And blinks again. Then, whatever came over him disappears, thank fucking Godric, because now is NOT the time for that sort of… intensity. Sirius needs several months, if not years, of mental preparation to be ready for suave-flirtatious-Remus.
“You’re so cute, Padfoot,” Remus chuckles quietly, brushing their noses together. “Didn’t think you’d be so shy, but I like it. A lot.”
Sirius’s mouth moves without permission from his brain. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid, why would you say that?!
“Just like there’s a lot you don’t know about me.” Yeah, doubt that… wait wait wait. “And no, we are not debating who is the most mysterious between us… stop pouting, Sirius, we can save that argument for later if you desire it so much.”
That’s not the reason he’s pouting, though Sirius is alright with Remus thinking that. Sadly for him, his brain has no filter.
“You haven’t, you know… dated anyone else before, have you? Like no judgment, just curious.” Sirius smiles sweetly, or tries to anyway, to remove the obvious judgment in his voice. Remus then LAUGHS in his face. “I don’t see what’s so funny!”
“I’ve been arse over tits for you since I was what, twelve? Thirteen? Do you think I’m the sort of prick who would date some just for shits and giggles?” Mollified, Sirius pecks his boyfriend on the lips because he can. “Now, brilliant as it was, I genuinely want to hear why you decided snogging me senseless was a good way to help me reign in my magic.”
Sirius perks up. “I read it in a book! Apparently, kissing someone can stop that person from panicking, cuz it makes them hold their breath.”
“Honestly, that sounds like creative liberties. Like a lot of creative liberties.”
“Yeah, uhh… funny story. A few days ago, after I was about to unintentionally,” time for some creative liberties of his own, “burn down all of the dungeons, James proved the theory held merit.”
“Interesting. And what book is this from?” Remus looks and sounds completely unfazed to learn his best mate snogged his boyfriend only days prior to them getting together. Sirius doesn’t know how he feels about the lack of reaction. Personally, he’d burn with jealousy... and murderous rage... if he learned James’s lips went anywhere near his Moonbeam! “Perhaps I’ll give it a read.”
“No, no, no, don’t do that!” Oh fuck, that’s just going to make him more intrigued. “Uhh, I meant, I forget what book it was, heh… what a shame.”
“Darling, how are you such a shite liar?”
“You make me nervous!” Sirius whines, belatedly realizing he just outed himself. “Don’t tease me, I’m sensitive!”
“Are you?” Remus hums, licking his bottom lip enticingly. His eyes suddenly widen. “Fuck, sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Despite the chaos going on around them, he lowers his voice even further. “Weird side effect of the moon. Being so close to you makes my brain go wonky, always. But now it’s worse than ever, since you apparently like me back -”
“There’s no ‘apparently’ about it!”
“I mean -”
“JAMES POTTER, THAT IS ENOUGH!” a voice booms, startling the two Gryffindors so extensively, they knock their heads together.
First and last name for Jamie, Minnie is pissed.
“Why is your head so hard?” Remus gripes, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
The contact snaps Sirius out of his Remus-induced daze. Rising to his feet, he offers his beautiful-destructive-sassy boyfriend a hand up. “Gotta protect my big brain, of course.” He frowns at Remus’s obvious skepticism. “Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but Reggie used to be very clumsy. Healers thought all his ear infections messed with his balance, ya know? As kids, he accidentally whacked me in the face so often, I think the never-ending ouchies spurred my magic to thicken my bones bit-by-bit each time.”
“Well, it would explain why you’re so thickheaded, wouldn’t it?” Remus smirks.
Walked right into that, Sirius internally sighs.
“Ha, ha, you’re so funny.”
“Two weeks apart, and you’ve managed to forget everything about me, huh?”
“I’d never forget a single thing about my Moonbeam, let alone a core part of his personality!” Sirius echoes with a teasing smile.
“Pipsy, please take Mr. Travers straight to the Hospital Wing. I will escort Mr. Potter myself when I'm done with him.”
Remembering there’s a whole other world going on around them, they slowly approach their incensed Head of House. Sneaking a look around her frame, Sirius covers his mouth with his hand to avoid gasping aloud. Yesterday, when he and James got into that tussle, Sirius didn’t see the damage he wrought upon his best mate. But he can’t imagine it’s anywhere near as bad as the result of the brawl between James and Travers.
The ground is littered with torn clothing and blood smears, a silent testament to the ferocity of their clash. Their faces are a patchwork of bruises and cuts, their knuckles raw and bloodied. Slumped over on the ground, Travers’s expression is contorted in pain as he clutches at his side. There’s a vacantness in his gaze that seems indicative of a concussion. When he turns his head, the burn on his right cheek is revealed, the skin discolored and uneven; either he was in the direct path when the fire spread, or... no, James wouldn't do that. Not that Travers wouldn't deserve it, of course, but unlike Sirius, James is good.
James holds his broken glasses in one hand, the other tucked in the pocket of his robes. His blackened eyes are so swollen, he can barely open them... though Sirius supposes it doesn’t matter much, since he can’t see anything without his glasses. There's a steady trickle of blood from the cut on his lip, which he occasionally wipes away with the back of his hand. Jaw clenched tight, his nostrils flare with each labored breath.
The fight took a heavy toll on both, but in Sirius’s unbiased opinion, James emerged victorious.
Standing in front of the Deputy Headmistress, the Gryffindor Chaser lowers his gaze in a show of respect. But it doesn’t do much good, not with the way defiance and remorselessness radiates from every pore.
“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!” McGonagall roars after Pipsy reluctantly disappears with the wounded Slytherin, her expression one of obvious distaste. Something tells Sirius it has nothing to do with the boy’s wounds, and everything to do with the scumbag’s actions. “THERE WAS A RAGING FIRE IN CASE YOU MISSED THAT PART. YOU COULD HAVE DIED, YOU COULD HAVE KILLED MR. TRAVERS, RUINED YOUR WHOLE FUTURE… AND FOR WHAT? FOR WHAT, JAMES POTTER?”
James’s head snaps up. “HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THAT REGULUS COULD HAVE DIED BECAUSE OF WHAT THAT SHITBAG DID TO HIM? DOES ANYONE GIVING A FLYING HIPPOGRIFF ABOUT THAT?!”
“I do,” Sirius mutters, raising his hand in the air… lowering his hand, definitely lowering his hand, and his head. Yep.
“SO, YOU DECIDED TO GET VIGILANTE JUSTICE, IS THAT IT? LET ME BE VERY CLEAR, GENTLEMAN… NONE OF YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE THE JUDGE, JURY, AND EXECUTIONER -”
“BUT HE DOES!” The Potter heir points an angry finger in Dumbledore’s direction. If Sirius had to wager a guess, he’d say the Headmaster is taking his dear sweet time straightening his office to avoid this confrontation. Seems like the sort of tripe he’d do. “AND YET HE DID JACK DIDDLY SQUAT ABOUT IT!” James takes a shaky breath. “A student confessed to pushing another student into the lake, knowing they couldn’t swim and with no prior provocation, yet they weren't expelled. Had we been outside of this institution, Travers would be tried for attempted murder. That doesn’t even take into account all the wretched, deplorable things he did to Regulus before that. How is it fair that he's only suspended for one month, Professor? How?”
McGonagall frowns. “I understand you have strong feelings for Mr. Black… the younger… but -”
“In-person parent conference?” James interrupts, his voice as frigid as his expression.
“Pardon?”
“You said if any of us got in a fight, it’ll be a month's worth of detentions and an in-person parent conference.” The Gryffindor Chaser holds his head high, in spite of the battering done to his face. “I take full responsibility for my actions and will accept my punishment without quarrel.”
Eyes narrowing, she gazes steadily at three of her most brilliant students, waiting for one of them to crack.
Really, Sirius scoffs in his head. She should know better by now.
Mr. Prefect takes a half-step forward. “I would also like to apologize for losing control so horrifically. I too will accept whatever punishment is deemed appropriate without quarrel.”
“Uhh, hang on!” Sirius interjects hotly, before Minnie can say anything. “But why would a school for magical children go around disciplining Accidental Magic in aforementioned magical children? Seems rather harsh to me, don’t you think? Like something those snobbish, evil tossers at Durmstrang would do!”
“But was it an accident -”
“Of course it was!” Sirius and James cry in unison.
“Mr. Lupin?” Professor McGonagall finishes, giving the other two a pointed look.
Three pairs of eyes bore into the werewolf, don’t do it, Moony, don’t do it, don’t crack!
Cheeks pinkening, Remus heaves an angst-filled sigh so heavy, it would make Reggie applaud. “I let my emotions get the better of me, Professor. I promise, it won’t happen again.”
“One can never promise such things, Mr. Lupin,” Dumbledore chuckles, conveniently joining their group now that the shouting is done. “Even accomplished adults can have such outbursts.”
“I’ll do better, sir.”
“Ah, no harm done.” He holds his hand up at the five flabbergasted expressions now directed his way. “No lasting harm done, I should say. I admit, we were fortunate that such a tumultuous accident happened with two of Hogwarts finest faculty present, along with myself." Neither Head of House interrupts to correct his word choice. "But it was an unexpectedly delightful test of our skills.”
“That it was,” Professor Slughorn drawls, sharing a peeved look with his fellow teacher. “I sure do hope it never happens again, though.”
“Frightening as it might have appeared,” the proud smile Dumbledore sends Remus makes Sirius grind his teeth, ‘emotional manipulation’ detectors blaring full-force in his head, “that fiery display was a remarkable precursor to the sort of powerful wizard you will grow up to be, Mr. Lupin.”
Albus Dumbledore is a wizard all four Marauders hold in high regard… at least before today. While James and Peter’s views align with the majority of the wizarding world (enthused and awed by his abilities/accomplishments, but not die-hard supporters who never question a single thing the man says or does), Sirius and Remus are on opposite ends of that ‘impressed’ spectrum. Growing-up-Black taught Sirius to question the authority of every person not closely related to him, especially after seeing the more shadier aspects of their world. The witches and wizards the public fawned over were usually the most flawed, corrupt people in the magical community. And while he doesn’t think the Headmaster is secretly a dark wizard or anything, Sirius is not thrilled with some of the decisions he’s made - ‘sentimental old coot’, a description the posh Purebloods love to toss around, might not be far off base. To Remus, however, the wizard who went out of his way to ensure a child inflicted with lycanthropy was able to study at Hogwarts is nothing short of a god. Because of the deep prejudice towards werewolves, Dumbledore's trust and unprecedented kindness towards him blinds Remus to the man’s faults, even the most glaring ones.
It can never be said that Remus John Lupin isn’t full of surprises.
“I’ve got nothing on my better half,” Remus shrugs dismissively, inclining his head towards Sirius. “If he ever lost control like that, I think only Hogwarts herself could prevent Sirius’s magic from tearing the walls down around us.”
The Gryffindor-Black almost cackles at the disappointment that flickers across Dumbledore’s face. Remus deserves all the compliments in the world, Sirius would never disagree with that. But he KNEW there was something manipulative about Dumbledore's praise.
“Ugh, nooo, Remus!” James groans, casting a pleading look towards their Head of House.
Professor McGonagall throws her hands in the air. “Mr. Lupin, I had such high hopes for you! Do NOT start believing Mr. Black’s conspiracies now that you two are dating. This castle is NOT sentient! And you, Mr. Black,” Sirius quickly wipes his love-sick smile off his face, “we talked about this -”
“As fascinating as a debate I’m sure this would be,” the Headmaster interjects, “I do believe we have some business left to discuss. Going back to Mr. Black's question, Hogwarts is not in the business of punishing accidental misdeeds -”
“Or attempted murder,” Sirius scoffs under his breath.
“Sirius,” Dumbledore begins, his voice calm, but with an edge that cuts through the room like a knife, “I trust you understand that our -” Professor McGonagall pointedly clears her throat, “my decision was not made lightly. It was done with careful consideration, so your continued remarks are neither helpful, nor appreciated. I assure you, when Mr. Travers returns to Hogwarts, he will be under the utmost scrutiny -”
Again, Remus squeezes Sirius’s hand in silent warning. The Black heir hardly registers it though, too emotionally strung out to think past his own indignation.
“Respectfully, sir, I think the only thing you considered when making your piss-poor ruling was your own sodding reputation.”
Dumbledore’s usually gentle demeanor hardens. “Unfortunately, you can’t say ‘respectfully’, and then follow it with something disrespectful, Mr. Black. They don’t cancel each other out.”
“Oddly enough, Professor Dumbledore,” Sirius purrs, staring the old man dead in the eye (while raising his Occlumency shields, because permanent trust issues), “but you sound JUST like my mother.” Yeah, that sucks to hear, doesn’t it? It’s true too, so HA! “Are we through here?”
Without waiting for an answer, Sirius drops his boyfriend’s hand and storms towards the exit. He stops when a voice calls out to him, but doesn’t turn around.
“Mr. Black, before you remove your belongings from your brother’s dorm, please see to it that Fawkes is returned to his perch.”
Given the noise James makes, his fellow Gryffindor is confused by the remark.
Sirius, however, is not.
Letting out a barrage of recently-learned wizard swears, he gives into petty temptation and releases some of his pent up magic. A smidgeon of Sirius's irritation evaporates when there's an earth-shaking explosion behind him. Ignoring the startled shouts and angry admonishments, he vaults over the banister of the circular staircase, trusting his magic to prevent him from breaking his legs. A millisecond before the stone gargoyle becomes collateral damage, it leaps to the side.
“REGULUS ARCTURUS BLACK!" Sirius stomps towards his brother. “YOU ARE GROUNDED, LITTLE STAR, UNTIL THE START OF THE NEW CENTURY!”
“Erm… no, wait!” Regulus cries, still keeping his gaze down. It only ignites the outrage within Sirius further, because the reasoning behind his brother’s shy-boy act suddenly makes sense. “I can, heh... I can explain?”
Slytherins are known for their self-preservation instincts, sir, Sirius parrots in his head with a hysterical laugh. Maybe my brother should have been an eagle after all, seeing as how he has NONE of those instincts to speak of.
Grabbing his brother’s ear, Sirius drags him to the alcove he almost introduced his fist to earlier. “Show it to me! Show me what you risked your life for, brother!”
“What in Merlin’s name is wrong with you?” Narcissa gripes behind him.
"Where to even start?" Andromeda quips.
"This!" Gripping Regulus’s chin, Sirius lifts his face up. Surprise, surprise, there’s dried blood all around his eyes, and… hmm, nothing in his pockets. “Where is it?!"
Regulus rips himself out of his brother’s hold. “Stop manhandling me! Clearly, the smoke got to your brain and made you -"
“Panda Bear, cough it up!”
The Ravenclaw bats her eyelashes at him. “I have no idea what you mean… a hairball, perhaps?”
Of course she’ll go down with him, Sirius scoffs to himself. He should have figured as much. The other Marauders would do the same for him.
Not stupid enough to frisk a girl, and doubting he could convince his cousins to do it for him, Sirius opts for Plan B. Whistling a short tune, he waits impatiently for confirmation. Just as he sees Narcissa open her mouth to surely ask what the fuck he’s doing, Pandora’s pocket echoes it back.
Holding his hand out, Sirius smirks internally to himself when she reluctantly hands the baby Phoenix over. The chicklet is so small, it looks like it's Burning Day must have occurred only hours prior.
“You have five seconds to explain yourself!” He waves the bird in his brother’s face. “Or I’ll be owling Mother at once!”
“To what end, if I might ask?” his brother growls, fists clenched at his side.
"I will tell her the truth of what happened today. All of it." Regulus's eyes flash with betrayal, but Sirius presses on. "And then demand she pull you from Hogwarts at once, because you've obviously lost your goddamn mind!"
"She won't -"
"She will when I volunteer to go with you. Homeschooling. Durmstrang. Beauxbatons. America. Wherever she wants to send us, we will go. Together."
"You're bluffing -"
"Am I? You would burn to death for a fireproof bird... it isn't even your pet! Clearly something is not working here!"
"It was a magical fire, brother, the rules are not the same. Fawkes was going to die if I didn't -"
"I DON'T BLOODY CARE ABOUT A FUCKING BIRD!" The blood surging through his veins turns to liquid fire. Sirius can hardly hear anything over the sound of the pounding in his ears. Never in his life has he felt such rage. "I WOULD BURN EVERY LIVING THING ON THIS PLANET TO ENSURE YOUR SURVIVAL, REGULUS, WHAT PART OF THAT DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?!"
"That's insane, you realize that, right? My life is not worth more -"
"TO ME, YES IT IS. AND TO THE PEOPLE WHO CARE ABOUT YOU, YOUR LIFE IS WORTH A HELL OF A LOT MORE THAN YOU'VE BEEN TREATING IT!" Sirius lowers his voice, but not by much. "Your death would kill me, Regulus. Literally. Would you do that to me?" It's as close to the truth as he hopes to ever get. "Would you give your life for this bird, knowing you would be ending mine too?"
Rolling his eyes, Regulus mumbles, "You would get over it, Sirius. You're being so dramatic."
"I don't think he is, Reg," Pandora counters unapologetically. She sticks her tongue out when Regulus glares at her.
There's no point in arguing, not if Sirius isn't intending to admit the full truth that, mmm... yeah, he might die if Regulus does. Given the circumstances of how their Blood Magic bond came to be, it's impossible to say for certain what will happen to either of them should the other die. But considering how dreadful Sirius felt following their falling out, he might not want to live if something terrible happened to his baby brother.
"Should you die so fucking needlessly, sweet brother of mine, you're taking our entire bloodline down with you and traumatizing your friends for life. Remember that."
A trail of fresh blood falls from Regulus's eyes. "That's... that's not fair, Sirius. You can't put that on me."
"No, it isn't fair, is it?" Sirius lightly wipes the blood away with his thumbs, then drops a kiss on his brother's forehead. "Stay alive, Reggie. Or face my wrath." His threat is bolstered by Fawkes's ardent chirp... wait. Said Phoenix owes Reggie his life. "Hey, little guy, sorry for saying I don't give a tailfeather about you." He lifts the bird to his face. "Feel like sparing a few tears for a good cause?" The chick twitters so excitedly, he almost tumbles to the ground. Definitely a creature after Reggie's own heart.
"No, absolutely not." Regulus tries to back away, but there's nowhere to run. "James needs it more than me... Merlin's beard, you look dreadful, Potter, what the fuck?"
"Cheers, mate," James says from behind Sirius.
Remus scoffs. "Don't call him mate, mate. It's weird."
"You really are so wise, Remus... why are you dating Sirius again?"
Leering at his bratty brother, Sirius mockingly pouts, "Aw, look how sad you've made me and the little birdie, Reggie." Fawkes trills mournfully. Hmm, maybe he needs to get himself a Phoenix. They'd have a great time together. "He has plenty of tears to spare, but no time for you to hem and haw about it."
The best part? Sirius doesn't need to ask. Narcissa and Andromeda bracket Regulus on each side, keeping him in place. Pandora guards the alcove, while James distracts the younger Slytherin with arguments defending his actions (it's mostly wasted breath, because Regulus's gaze goes glassy for a bit, like he's very much not present). Remus, a doll if there ever was one, tilts Regulus's head back, while keeping his hair out of his face. Carefully, Sirius drips one Phoenix tear into each gray eye. Props to Fawkes for remaining still in the admittedly awkward position, but it goes as smooth as possible. Sirius then discreetly cleans the blood off his brother's face, because yikes - that's much too morbid for Hogwarts.
"Potter is next," Regulus growls when he snaps out of his trance-thingy. He shakes their cousins off without clawing them. Such blatant favoritism is appalling.
Andromeda twirls her wand around her fingers. "No need to waste Phoenix tears, not until we figure out what we can't fix on our own."
"Erm... I'm alright, thanks." Multiple sounds of disbelief ring out, Sirius and Fawkes among them. "I'll make a trip to Madam Pomfrey. She'll be expecting me, I'm sure."
"Are you insulting our skills, Potter?" Narcissa asks, her voice sickeningly sweet. "It sure sounds like it."
"No, no! 'Course not. Just don't want to take up your valuable time, you know?"
"Such a gentleman," Cissa, Andie, and Panda Bear say at the same time. Sirius suppresses a shudder. Talk about creepy!
It's deeply amusing to watch James try to slink away from the girls prowling towards him. Before Sirius can offer his own assistance - to his cousins, not his best mate - Regulus grabs his wrist.
"Watch," is all his brother says, before smacking Sirius's palm against the stone wall (much harder than necessary, he would like to point out).
Images race through Sirius's mind:
The fire encircling the room. No one was in its path.
Fueled by rage and something else, something wicked, James drags the flailing Slytherin towards the ring of fire.
Flames sear the brute's cheek and part of James's hand.
Travers thrashes on the ground, trying to free himself.
A moment of indecision flickers over James's face.
Taking advantage of the slackened grip, Travers scrambles to his feet, a wild look in his eyes.
With that, the images come to an end. Hogwarts doesn't say anything, doesn't tell Sirius why she showed him what happened between James and Travers. He can't begin to process how he feels about it either. Maybe... maybe there's more to James Potter than he first thought? Maybe like Remus, Sirius doesn't know everything about his best mate either. It's simultaneously comforting and a mind fuck at the same time.
One thing Sirius knows for certain though is this - he's a lot more open to the idea of James and Regulus being together now than he was before. Is that shitty of him? Probably. Does he care? Nope.
Notes:
I am so sorry for the delay! Life has been kicking my ass lately, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)
Chapter 41: A Friendly/Not Friendly Chat
Notes:
Fair warning, this chapter makes me tear up a bit (which is silly because it's not even THAT angsty, but alas)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Seconds after Fawkes sheds several tears over James’s extensive wounds, including the burned hand no one comments on, Professor McGonagall joins their rag-tag group in the corridor. Thanks to Narcissa’s ‘healing prowess’, she's spared from having to supervise James and Travers in the Hospital Wing, which puts her in a much better mood than before. To their collective surprise, Minnie doesn't admonish them for happened in Dumbledore's office. Instead, she offers Sirius a small trunk to use while packing his things, one that's easy to carry and enchanted to expand as needed because, ‘I highly doubt you only have a few things down there’ (she knows him so well, it hurts).
McGonagall's gaze then moves to the boy standing awkwardly at James's side. Arm wrapped securely around Regulus's waist, the Gryffindor Chaser stares challengingly at his Head of House, as if silently daring her to try and justify the rubbish punishment Dumbledore levied on Travers.
"You have my sincerest apologies, Mr. Black." Regulus stiffens when she places a hand on his shoulder, but he doesn't shake her off. "No one should suffer through even a fraction of what you endured, especially not within these walls. You deserve so much better from the adults around you, and it disgusts me that your pain went unnoticed for so long. I am truly sorry we failed you, that Hogwarts failed you."
"The castle is enormous, Professor. There is is no conceivable way to know everything that goes on within this school."
"Even so." Hesitating, her eyes scan the Slytherin's face. "As those around you can attest to, Travers spoke a great deal of lies to you. However, there is one falsehood in particular I consider myself uniquely qualified to counter. Gryffindor lost out on a fine addition to our house when you were sorted into Slytherin, Regulus. We would have been fortunate to have you. And I do not say this lightly... you are as brave, if not braver, than any lion I have ever taught."
The Slytherin inclines his head. "Thank you, Professor."
"My baby brother would have been a great lion! I was devastated when Reggie went to the Snakepit -"
"Believe me, I know," Regulus huffs.
"Because I wanted us to be in the same house," Sirius finishes, sticking his tongue out.
His brother blinks. "You... you wanted us to be sorted together?"
"Yes, you silly star! I knew being a lion would make your life more difficult, but a large part of me didn't care." He winces. "I'm selfish like that."
"Oh."
"You're not that selfish, mate." James bumps his hip against Regulus's. "Siri twisted himself into knots over what result he wanted."
"Agree to disagree," Sirius sniffs. "But deep down, I always knew Gryffindor wouldn't happen. It doesn't fit his melancholy aesthetic."
"Oh, I don't know." McGonagall grins. "I think Mr. Lupin has done quite well in our house."
James and Sirius laugh uproariously at Remus's shocked expression.
"She's got you all figured out, babe," Sirius croons, pinching his boyfriend's cheek.
Rolling his eyes, Regulus meets McGonagall's eyes. "Umm... I believe this belongs to the Headmaster?"
With trembling hands, he holds out the Phoenix... but the nutty chicklet isn't too keen on returning to his perch. Twittering to-and-fro across Regulus's palm, he dodges every attempt to pick him up. The kooky bird only agrees to part with his new best friend after Professor McGonagall offers to let him spend the rest of the day in her office, where he'll have free reign of her newly restocked biscuit tin (he also demands lots of sweet pecks and gentle scritches from Reggie before he goes).
After a short conversation with his brother, followed by a whispered word with James and Rem, Sirius is escorted back to the dungeons by Slughorn. Thankfully, the Potions Professor opts not to fill the journey with useless chitchat... or any talking whatsoever. But when they reach the entrance to the Common Room, Sirius whirls around to face Slytherin's Head of House.
"You will be hearing from The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black on this matter," Sirius growls. "What happened to Regulus under your nose was unacceptable on its own, but Dumbledore's punishment is more than just a spit in the face. It's salt poured into a festering, open wound."
Slughorn nods glumly. "I expected nothing less."
Under the watchful eye of Damien Montague, seventh-year prefect, Sirius is instructed to collect his stuff from Regulus’s dorm to take back to Gryffindor Tower 'within the hour'.
Absolutely useless sack of shite, Sirius thinks to himself. He had predicted that Slughorn would delegate the task to someone else, which is why he said what he did before they entered the Common Room. But still... it's one of those rare times where he didn't want to be right.
It takes a while, but eventually, it dawns on Montague that Sirius is planning to take his dear sweet time packing, no matter how many frustrated sighs and comments he makes to ‘Get on with it, why don’t you just use magic?’ The Gryffindor groans in relief when the snooty prefect finally leaves him alone.
He'd been mildly surprised when his baby brother informed him that after walking Pandora back to Ravenclaw Tower (his little star is such a gentleman, Sirius might have shed a tear), he's going to ‘decompress’ in the quiet of Andie’s room while Sirius packs. First of all, since when does Regulus hide from the world in Andromeda’s dorm room of all places, a dorm she shares with several other scary women? This plan also implies that Regulus trusts Sirius enough to not take anything that doesn't belong to him… which, uhhh, has he forgotten who his big brother is all of a sudden? Reggie nicked a magazine from Sirius over the summer, it’s his brotherly right to steal something back in delayed retribution. Or does he just not care if his stuff goes missing? All of it seems very fishy, but after the ordeal Regulus went through today - along with all of the ordeals he’s gone through recently - Sirius lets it go. And ya know what? He’s going to honor his brother's trust by not pilfering any of Reg’s stuff… unless he finds something really good that he just has to have. Also, this 'be a good person' rule only applies to his blood brother. His surrogate brother’s stuff is fair game.
I’m actually going to miss this place, Sirius thinks to himself, sitting on the edge of his brother’s bed. And not just because of Reg.
It’s a jarring realization.
Entering Gryffindor Tower for the first time, eleven-year-old Sirius had never felt so free. From the Common Room to his new dorm, everything was spacious and bright, a far cry from the dark, oppressive atmosphere he grew up in. Prior to this year, Sirius had only seen the Slytherin accommodations in passing… as in, he was passing through during a prank. He had no idea that there’s so much more to the House of Snakes than what meets the eye. Like sure, the dungeons aren’t lit by natural sunlight, and navigating the political minefield that is the Slytherin Common Room can be a total pain in the arse. That's true. But to Sirius’s astonishment, there are still plenty of bright pockets to be found. In Gryffindor, he frequently has to modify his speech patterns to refrain from ‘talking like a posh blighter’, while also keeping his tone in check to avoid offending people with his ‘snark’. Not to be a prick, but his housemates can be so sensitive sometimes! In Slytherin, he’s had an absolute blast performing improvised skits with a group of third-year snakes who are obsessed with theater, and not having to censor himself all the time has been wonderful. Will they still talk to Sirius when he’s back in Gryffindor? Will Carissa Bordeaux continue to share her favorite Muggle music with him? Will Snape want to continue their chess tournaments? Or will everyone turn their noses up at him when he’s gone?
Sirius has just begun sorting through the towering pile of books on Regulus’s nightstand, when a firm knock on the door scares him half to death.
Crouch pokes his head in. “You alone?”
“Are we counting ole’ Willy?” Sirius jerks his head towards the nearest window, where the Giant Squid is just visible in the distance, such a creeper.
“That wanker is obsessed with you,” the Slytherin snorts. “Before this year, I can count on one hand how many times I’ve seen him from our dorm window.”
Sirius shrugs. “What can I say? Squids love me. But besides him, yes, I am alone. Reggie didn’t want to be around while I gathered my things." Twirling a lock of hair around his finger, he shifts his gaze to Crouch's forehead. "Finally got the boot from your humble abode.” Bet Evan and Crouch are chuffed about that.
“Yeah, I heard.”
The uncharacteristic grimness of the usually easy-going Slytherin tells Sirius that Crouch heard about everything that happened in the Headmaster’s office, not just about his eviction notice. Did he bump into Narcissa and Andromeda in the Common Room? Hmm, he must have. The trek from Ravenclaw to Slytherin is a doozy, so there’s no way his pokey brother is back in the dungeons already. Besides, Merlin knows Reggie wouldn’t tell them (or anyone else) a damn thing that he didn’t absolutely have to. Sigh, they’re going to have to work on that with his little star.
“From whomst did you hear these tales from, if I might inquire?”
The younger Slytherin gives him a strange look. “Pandora, obviously.” Uhh… that’s weird. Were Evan and Crouch waiting in Ravenclaw for her to return? Sirius isn't given a chance to ask anymore questions though. “I know you’re busy, but you got a sec?”
“For you mate, I’ve got five.”
After all, Sirius has his own questions for his brother’s best mate. Besides, packing really is the fucking worst, especially in these circumstances.
“Splendid, be back in a jiffy.” Crouch reappears some thirty seconds later with a familiar sassy snake tossed over his shoulder. “Got time for Ev too?”
Depositing Evan onto his feet, the taller Slytherin proceeds to lean against the closed door, his arms crossed over his chest. It's simultaneously a casual pose, and one that conveniently blocks the exit.
What’s with Slytherins and their love of interventions?! Sirius thinks exasperatedly to himself.
“Duh.” Shoulders tense and raised nearly to his ears, Evan doesn’t turn around; weirder, he’s yet to say a single word. Similar to the youngest Black, the youngest member of the Rosier family is considered ‘quiet’ by the general population. In private, however, wittle Evie always has something to say… and if Sirius is around, that ‘something’ is often snide and not very nice. Cautiously approaching his surrogate brother, Sirius adds, “I’ve always got time for my Strawberry Shortcake.”
A visible shudder runs through Evan, but then slowly, so slowly, he rotates on his heel to look at Sirius… er, he sort of looks at Sirius. The younger boy’s eyes remain firmly on the ground, like someone cast a permanent sticking charm on them.
“Well, get on with it then,” Evan says dourly. When Sirius doesn’t respond, too busy trying to figure out what the fuckity fuck is going on, he continues, “Haven’t got all day.”
Rather than wasting time needling Evan until he explains himself, Sirius quirks an eyebrow in Crouch’s direction.
“Ev is under the impression that you’re going to tell us -”
“Me.”
“Tell us off for failing Reg.”
Rolling his eyes, I really should have guessed that’s what this is about, Sirius drawls, “Yes, let me get right on that. Then when I’m done, you can tell me off for failing Reg even worse. And ooh, if you’re up for it, you can attend my pity party afterwards! We'll have a bawl.”
“See?!” Crouch cries triumphantly. “Wasn’t that what I said, Evan?... minus that last part.”
“None of you get it!” Evan hisses, finally lifting his head so he can glare at each of them. “It’s different for me. Reg and I have been best friends since we were in nappies -”
“Pfft, I’ve literally known Regulus his entire life. Errr… well, since he was about a month old.” At Crouch’s bemused expression, Sirius splays his fingers wide and wiggles them theatrically. “Cuz drama.”
Drama created by Sirius himself, oopsie. Convinced this new addition was going to ruin his life, he was adamantly against having a brother. But no one took his valid concerns seriously, 'heirs, continuing the family line', blah, blah, blah. When Regulus’s premature birth nearly killed Mother, it only solidified his anti-sibling stance. As such, Sirius refused to meet baby-Reg until she recovered, and since Father is a pushover whenever his wife isn’t around, his wish was granted. Needless to say, all it took was a beaming smile from his extra-tiny little star to change Sirius’s perspective entirely.
“Fine, but we never had a falling out like you two did.” Yeah alright, Evan wins that one. “And I shared a room with Reg while this shite was going on -”
Crouch’s, “Mate, I did too!” goes ignored by his venting friend.
“But I had absolutely zero inkling that Travers was bothering Regulus at all, not until you got him to admit it after that mid-season tryout. Even then, he assured us it ‘wasn’t a big deal’, said all of it was Quidditch related. And guess what? I fucking believed him!”
“‘Course you believed him, Evan.” Sirius attempts to place a comforting arm around his shoulder, but the younger boy flinches away. “Reggie is very convincing. Who would doubt that cute little face of his?”
“So valid,” Crouch mumbles. “Those doe-eyes are vicious.”
“They really are. Even our mother has been known to fall victim to them," Sirius points out. "But on the train last year, do you both remember what I said?”
Without warning, Evan’s demeanor does a complete 180. “I remember you making an excuse for not noticing what was going on with Reg during his fifth birthday, yes. But that’s all you ever do, isn’t it, Sirius? Make excuses for your behavior, promise to change, then proceed to fuck up again and again, an endless cycle of disappointment.” Sirius opens his mouth to argue, but Evan’s next words render him speechless. “It’s no wonder your mother is so ashamed of you. I mean, besides your above adequate appearance, what else is there to be proud of?”
Oh…
Ouch.
“Ev, come on,” Crouch softly chides. “That’s not fair.”
“Fair?” the shorter boy scoffs. “What’s ‘fair’ got to do with anything? How is it fair that Travers can attempt to murder my best friend and receive nothing but a month’s suspension from school? Like boohoo, he’s going to miss the first Hogsmeade weekend, how will he ever survive?”
“Evan -“
“Shut the fuck up, Sirius, I’m not done. How is it fair that Travers can spend over three YEARS terrorizing Reg at every turn, yet nothing of consequence happens to him? How is it fair that the harassment was so severe, a Merperson in the Black Lake felt compelled to give Regulus a trident to protect himself? Do either of you understand the significance of that? That Merprince saw glimpses of Travers’s interactions with Reg. Yet they disturbed him so greatly, he decided to give a random human he's never interacted with a magical artefact that only royal Merpeople wield! And just so we’re clear, it wasn’t something he had laying around and decided to pawn off either. Pandora said the bloke told her he carved it for Regulus specifically. SO SINCE YOU TWO ARE SO BLOODY SMART, PLEASE TELL ME HOW ANY OF THAT IS FAIR?!”
“It’s not fair, of course it’s not,” Crouch is quick to respond. “But that doesn’t make it Sirius’s fault either. We all dropped the Quaffle, and it’s going to take all of us -”
“WHERE WERE YOU SIRIUS?!” Evan screams, getting right in his face. Sirius is too stunned to move away. It's partially because his surrogate brother has never acted so aggressively towards him; the other part of his shock stems from how Evan is completely and totally right to blame him. It is Sirius's fault. “YOU SWORE YOU’D ALWAYS PROTECT REGULUS, I WAS THERE WHEN YOU SAID IT, HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN TO HIM?!”
A cold sweat forms on Sirius’s brow. His breath comes in shallow, rapid gasps, each one feeling like it could be his last. The walls start to close in around him, peripheral details blurring as his vision narrows. Sirius is too lightheaded to form a coherent response, but does it really matter? What can he even say? Nothing excuses his failure.
“I… I didn’t know… anything wrong… I s-swear -”
“YOUR LITTLE BROTHER TRUSTED YOU, AND YOU BETRAYED HIM!”
“Evan, stop -”
“No, I… I’d never betray… not Reg, no -”
“BUT YOU DID, SIRIUS, YOU DID BETRAY HIM… DON’T YOU GET IT? REGULUS TRUSTED YOU, MORE THAN ANYONE IN THE WORLD. HE BRAGGED ABOUT YOU ALL THE TIME WHEN WE WERE GROWING UP, SAID YOU WERE THE GREATEST BROTHER ANYONE COULD HAVE, THE STRONGEST, THE SMARTEST, HE SAID WE’D ALWAYS BE OKAY, SO LONG AS YOU WERE AROUND. WE TRUSTED YOU, SIRIUS, AND YOU… YOU ABANDONED US!”
Oh Merlin, Sirius fucked up so bad, didn’t he? Evan’s right. Everything that happened to Regulus is his fault. It was his duty to protect his brother, and he did nothing. Absolutely nothing. If anything, he made it worse! How could Regulus ever forgive him? Coming back into his brother’s life was the most selfish decision Sirius has ever made, which says a lot, given how nearly every decision he’s ever made is selfish. Regulus is better off without him, he’s probably thrilled Sirius is leaving his dorm.
Evan lowers his voice, but his words still carry throughout the room. “Was it worth it, Sirius? While Regulus was being terrorized at every turn, were you happy in Gryffindor? Actually, answer me this… was Travers right? Did you go to Gryffindor to get away from Reg?”
“NO! No, of course not! I didn’t…” I was too in awe of James, and I… oh Merlin, I wasn’t even thinking of Regulus when it was my turn to be sorted. “I didn’t go there to get away from Reg, I swear I didn’t!”
“LIAR!” He shoves Sirius in the chest, hard enough to knock him off balance. Sirius lets himself fall, barely feels it when he crashes to the ground. He deserves worse than this. Evan isn’t even using magic to hurt him, but he should. He deserves to feel all of the pain Regulus endured, tenfold. While Sirius was galavanting in Gryffindor, essentially acting like he was an only child, Regulus was seven floors away, being tortured. Because that’s the truth of what Travers did to Regulus - psychological torture. Right under Sirius’s nose and everything. “FIGHT BACK!” A kick is aimed at Sirius’s midsection, but it falls short when Crouch drags Evan away at the last second. “FIGHT ME, YOU COWARD! AREN’T YOU ALWAYS TELLING REG TO STAND UP FOR HIMSELF? WHY WON’T YOU DO THE SAME, SIRIUS? IS IT BECAUSE YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A SODDING HYPOCRITE?!”
“He doesn’t… doesn’t mean any of it,” Crouch says, struggling to keep a grip on his thrashing friend. “Just upset.”
“I DO MEAN IT, I MEAN ALL OF IT! YOU ARE PATHETIC, SIRIUS, YOU’RE A WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHITE -"
“Bloody hell, Evan, no he isn’t!"
"AND REGULUS DESERVES BETTER THAN YOU!”
"Stop.”
“HE SHOULD BE THE HEIR TO THE HOUSE OF BLACK, NOT YOU… BECAUSE YOU… YOU’RE WORSE THAN A SICKNESS, SIRIUS, YOU’RE A PLAGUE, AN EVIL AFFLICTION THAT SHOULD BE BURNED AWAY BEFORE YOU CAN BRING FURTHER RUIN TO YOUR BLOODLINE... AND I…" Evan's feral scream is a mix of anger and agony. "I HATE YOU, SIRIUS BLACK, I FUCKING HATE YOU!”
Sirius swallows around a lump in his throat. He can’t let them see him cry, can’t let Evan see just how weak he really is.
“I... I fucking hate me too, Evan. Y-you’re not special.”
With a bellow of pure rage, Evan rips himself out of Crouch’s hold. Losing his footing in the process, he doesn’t let that stop him, crawling determinedly to where the older boy is sprawled out on the ground. Sirius doesn’t brace himself for the punches that are sure to come. He deserves worse.
Grabbing fistfuls of Sirius's robes, the Slytherin yanks him closer, until they’re nose-to-nose. “You… it’s not… s’not fair, Siri… why didn’t… why didn’t he tell m-me?” Evan’s voice breaks on the last word, and with it, Sirius’s heart shatters into millions of pieces.
“I dunno, Evie.” Sirius’s throat constricts at the hurt in the younger boy’s voice, the anguish welling in his eyes. “I really, really don’t understand. But Reg… he didn’t tell anyone.”
“I thought I was different. Does he… does he not -"
Too overcome with emotion to finish, Evan isn't successful at muffling the sound of his sob. Making a pained noise, Sirius bundles his surrogate brother up in a bone-crushing hug. Joining them on the floor, Crouch rubs comforting circles on Evan’s back as he cries his heart out, worse than Sirius has ever heard before.
It’s easy to figure out what he was trying to ask. “Reg loves you more than anything. The both of you. I don’t know why he never told anyone about Travers. I think maybe he just thought it was his problem to sort out. He didn’t want to, I dunno… burden anyone with it.”
Scowling at Sirius through watery eyes, Evan growls, “Regulus is NEVER a burden, how could you say such a horrid thing like that?!”
“I know he’s not, Evie, don’t be a prat!” Appeased, Evan tucks his face back into Sirius’s neck. “I dunno, maybe I’ve got it all wrong, but he seems to think himself deserving of such treatment. And if that is the case, I have no idea where he got such a bonkers idea from. The one thing I do know for certain is that the two of you, plus Panda Bear, are stuck with him for life.”
Something along the lines of, “Dumb nickname,” is grumbled into Sirius’s skin.
“You’re jealous you didn’t come up with it first,” the older boy counters, using his nails to lightly scratch Evan’s scalp. Tension immediately begins seeping out of the younger boy’s body at the contact, I think the Fates gave me two little kneazles for brothers.
“I… m’sorry, Siri. I was a major twat. Like Potter-level of twatishness.”
Love how that's a unit of measurement now, Sirius snorts in his head. James would probably be delighted if he knew. Secretly, of course.
“It’s okay, baby apple fritter.” Evan groans at the pet name, but since he can't see them, the other two boys exchange devilish grins. “Not all of us can be geniuses."
“I meant for earlier, you pillock. What happened to Reg is not your fault. And I shouldn’t have said any of those other things to you.”
“The truth hurts sometimes, doesn’t it? Also not your fault.”
"Nope!" Crouch shakes his finger in Sirius's face. “None of this from you, mister.” In lieu of a verbal warning, the Gryffindor snaps his teeth. “Larson Travers is to blame for what happened to Reg, and Dumbledore is to blame for the lack of suitable punishment. No one else.”
“Of course, of course.”
“Salazar, all three of you are dreadful,” Crouch bemoans, shaking his head in dismay.
Squirming out of Sirius’s hold, the shorter Slytherin (who better stay that way if he knows what’s good for him), stares unblinkingly at him for an unnerving amount of time. Sirius cracks a lot faster than he’d care to admit. “Alright, Evie?”
Evan frowns. “I would like to preface this by saying I love my sisters, and if you ever breathe a word about what I’m about to tell you to anyone, even Regulus, I will poison your boyfriend and frame you for the crime -”
“What kind of threat is that?” the Black heir squawks, clutching his hands to his chest. “Evan, what the fuck?!”
Unfazed by being in the presence of a murderous, conniving psychopath, Crouch offers his petite friend a handkerchief. “An effective one, duh.”
“Correct, and thank you, Barty.” Evan accepts the cloth with a small smile. “Anyways, as I was saying, when we were growing up, I… I was horrendously jealous of Reg.” He heaves a classic Regulus-esque sigh. “Truth be told, a part of me probably still is.”
Uhhh, come again? Sirius has no idea where he's going with this. Emmett Rosier is eh, nothing to write home about, but he’s also not a bad father compared to some of the wretched arseholes their peers have to deal with. Estelle Rosier, however, is one of the coolest ladies Sirius has ever met in his life. Plus, Ella and Emma are marvelous. Evan never wanted for anything growing up, so what did… does… Regulus have that he doesn’t?
“Jealous because…?” Sirius prompts when Evan doesn’t say anything else, ooh wait, I bet it’s because of Regulus’s artistic skills. If I remember correctly, Evan can’t draw for shite. “Actually, funnily enough, I was jealous of Reg too growing up! What a coincidence.”
“I was jealous of Reg because of you, you fucking dunce!”
Another reminder as to why I don’t gamble, sheesh. Also, Sassy-Evan is better than Sad-Evan, let’s keep that in mind.
Crouch squints at him. “Why were you jealous of Reg?”
“Reggie was normal. I was a freak.” Sirius shrugs. “I don’t get what Evan means, though.”
The two Slytherins exchange a look that he does not appreciate, thank you very much!
“Sirius Orion Black, are you being obtuse on purpose?” Oof, the full name coming from Evan feels icky, I do not like that one bit! “It really seems like you are.”
“This is the only time I will allow you to use my full name without retaliation.” Sirius lightly flicks Evan’s forehead, just to be a prick. “Also, I’ve had a difficult day, Ev, I’m too tired for riddles. Can you spit it out this one time, pretty please?”
Evan throws his hands in the air. “Fine! Besides that two-year stint of you being a total tosser, and even though you annoy me down to a fundamental level, you are a fantastic sibling.” Sirius’s breath hitches. “And I know you think I’m pulling your leg, I can see it on your face, but I’m not. My sisters agree with me. In fact, under Veritaserum, many of the kids we grew up with would as well!"
“I can also confirm that Regulus sees it the same way,” Crouch chuckles. “Our very first semester, if I had a galleon for every time I heard about how great Reg’s big brother is… from both of these sods… your families would be destitute.”
Oh Merlin, he fooled the lot of them, didn’t he? That was never his intention, of course, but maybe he’s been hiding the real Sirius for longer than he realized.
“Actually, the only time Regulus and I ever ‘fought’ was because of you.”
Sirius blinks. “Erm… my bad?” Scanning through his memories, he snaps his fingers when he recalls the incident in question. “That Christmas when you both were like five, right?” Evan nods. “Hold up, what the fuck did I do?! I was with Emma and Ella in the drawing room trying to eavesdrop on the drunk adults gossiping. Then out of nowhere, you two were screaming your heads off in the playroom. Scared the bloody daylights out of us, we thought you two were being kidnapped!”
Steepling his fingers together, Crouch leans forward in eager anticipation. “And what did you find when you arrived?”
“They were walloping the crap out of each other!” Sirius cries. “All the screaming was indecipherable, so we couldn’t tell what they were fighting about, but to this day, I’ve never seen anything like it. That incident with Remus in the Entrance Hall? It has nothing on this brawl. Reggie wouldn’t say a word about it, only that, ‘Evan was being a mean jerk, he deserved me biting him’.”
“Blimey... did you deserve it, Ev?”
Wearily rubbing a hand over his face, Evan mutters, “Yeah, I did. It was not my finest moment.”
“Reg was a right little storm cloud for weeks afterwards, it was the most depressing sight I’ve ever seen. When you both finally made up, our families were happier about it than you two were.”
“I bet little Reg was absolutely the cutest thing in the world, even when sulking… especially when sulking." Crouch sighs wistfully. "Now I’m jealous I didn’t know you lot growing up.”
“Oh, he was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen,” Sirius confirms, hand over heart. “I’ve got a ton of photo albums in my trunk back in Gryffindor, I’ll show you ‘em later. But anywho, what the fuck happened, Ev, and what does it have to do with me?”
“We were playing with our new toys, and Regulus noticed I wasn’t in a very good mood. He asked if I was okay, and I replied that once again, I didn’t get what I wanted for Christmas... this is just a friendly reminder that if you breathe a word about this -" Evan slashes his finger across his throat.
“Yeah, yeah, get on with it.”
“For the last three Christmases, I begged Mother to give me a brother exactly like Sirius. She claimed it wasn’t possible, listed a whole bunch of reasons, whatever. But I had this sudden epiphany. I said to Reg that since we’re like twins… people mixed us up all the time back then, you know… we should share our siblings too.”
“Wow,” his fellow Slytherin whistles. “That did not go over well, did it?”
“In my defense,” Evan sniffs, lifting his nose in the air, “the trade would mean he got two sisters, not just one! Reg gave me some vague responses at first, all very polite -"
"Of course," Sirius and Crouch say at the same time.
"Even after he firmly declined, I wouldn't drop it. I kept pressing. Truthfully, I didn’t expect him to say no, considering he always shared his stuff with me, regardless if I asked. But Reg was adamant that it would be over his ‘dead and decomposed body’ that he shared his big brother with anyone, even me. He said he was sorry, but Sirius was his and only his. I called him some choice words, and when he tried to walk away, I threw a toy at the back of his head... yes, I know that's petty, don't look at me like that!"
"Bet Reg freaked because that's bad form," the older Black brother snorts. "Should have thrown it while he was facing you."
"Nah, I dug my grave when told him I didn't care if he didn't want to share, I was gonna ask you to be my brother anyway, and there was nothing he could do to stop me. And uhh... he didn't take that very well." Evan shivers. "Only time I've ever been scared of Reg."
“I don't even know what to say to that," Crouch admits, rubbing his chin, "other than that I am happy to learn that Reg has been morbid since day one.”
“Mother said that phrase sometimes,” Sirius mumbles dazedly, his mind whirling with this new information.
“Ah. Forgive me, this might be my ‘only childness’ speaking… what precisely makes one sibling better than another? Because from my perspective, it sounds like you were being a bit misogynistic, Ev.”
“I wasn’t… no, you’ve got it all wrong!”
Sirius barely hears anything after that. Evan supplies example after example to a visibly amused Crouch to ‘support’ his claim that, ‘It's not about gender. Plain and simple, Regulus has the best sibling anyone could ever have. Also for the record, we know heaps of people with awful brothers. There are some I'd even AK if I had to share a house with them, Azkaban be damned’. How can he tell Evan that he is the one who has it all wrong, not Crouch? Sirius is literally the worst sibling there is. At Grimmauld Place this summer, Death told him that every Seer will endure complex trials to ensure they continue to be worthy of such a gift… what if Sirius is a trial? Like an ongoing one, that Regulus must constantly overcome? That’s what it’s starting to feel like!
“I… oh Merlin, did I say something wrong? I’m sorry, I take it back, you… you suck, and I do hate you, and you’re a huge slag, it's super gross, and you should be ashamed of yourself!”
The uncertainty in his tone, combined with the obvious concern for others’ feelings that Evan has but pretends like he doesn’t, breaks the dam holding Sirius’s tears back. “I do suck, s’all my f-fault! Reggie, I failed him… I failed him, my poor little s-star…”
Embarrassed to fall apart in front of his brother’s friends, Sirius flings himself face-down onto the carpet. Warranted or not, he can’t handle seeing their disdain right now. But when the floor underneath him shakes, he cries even harder; why can’t he ever do anything right, why can’t he ever stay in control of himself? Why is he the fucking worst?
“Merlin’s beard, do something, Barty!”
“Aww, mate, come here.” Crouch yanks Sirius upwards like he weighs nothing, then wraps him up in a suffocating embrace. “You didn’t fail Regulus, okay? It’s rotten how everything played out, but it’s not your fault, and I know Regulus would never blame you... or any of us, for that matter.”
“Because he’s good!” Sirius wails helplessly, the emotions from the last few days suddenly too much to handle. “Too good for this world!”
“Neither Evan nor myself would argue that.”
Something soft and fluffy is deposited into his lap. “Neither would Wrath.” Purring loudly, the kitten butts her head on the underside of Sirius's chin. Too wrapped up in his breakdown, he fails to give the little demon attention. She nips his finger. “Pet the cat, Siri. It helps.”
“Don’t deserve comfort,” Sirius mumbles petulantly into Crouch’s shoulder, once the worst of his sobs taper off. He’s weak though, so not only does he stay right where he is, he also pets the kitten. “You should… both of you should blame me for what happened. It’s my fault.”
“No, we shouldn’t. And we don’t. Right, Ev?”
“I lied earlier, Sirius, you understand that, yeah? None of it is your fault. I was just upset, and I wanted you to hurt like I was. I’m sorry, Siri.”
The lanky Slytherin squeezes Sirius so tightly, he wheezes. “Look, I can’t imagine what it was like in that office. Just hearing it secondhand from Pandora made me want to sharpen my knives on Travers’s neck. But even if we acquired a Time Turner, we can’t fix the past. What we can do is make the future better, or at the very least, way less shitty.” Gently grabbing the side of Sirius’s face, Crouch forces their gazes to meet. “You’re allowed to be upset, mate, but you cannot fall apart. Regulus needs you now, more than ever. He needs all of us.” Dropping his hands down (after smushing Sirius’s cheeks together to make a ‘fishy face’), he locks eyes with his other best mate. “We have to keep it together, okay?”
The words are out of Sirius’s mouth before he can stop them. “Il serait mieux sans moi.”
Evan moves so quickly, Sirius doesn’t have a chance to brace himself.
SLAP!
“OW!” he whines, clutching his stinging cheek. Again. “WHAT THE FUCK, EVAN!”
“Ev!”
Blimey, even Wrath is baffled by her human's sudden descent into violence! She looks between the three boys like they’re a puzzle she’s trying to riddle out.
“He deserved it!” Evan spits, baring his teeth.
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“DID NOT!”
“Salazar’s crustaceans, fucking CHILL!” Crouch loudly claps his hands together. “Now, I’m not a posh prat and my tutor bored me to tears, so my French is limited. I have no idea what the fuck Sirius said. But I don’t think Reg would appreciate you beating on his brother, Ev, unless he like… insulted your whole family or something.”
“I THINK HE’D FORGIVE ME IF HE KNEW HOW STUPID HIS BROTHER WAS BEING!” Pale cheeks blazing red, Evan’s chest heaves up and down as he tries to regain control over his breathing. The little shit then moves like he’s going to swat Sirius again, but Crouch, bless him, uses his foot to push Evan away. “Do you listen at all, Sirius? Regulus would not be better off without you!”
Sirius then is assaulted on two fronts; Crouch roughly pinches his earlobe, while Wrath takes a chunk out of his forearm.
“Umm, fucking PARDON -”
“You deserved that,” Crouch hums, cutting Sirius’s complaints off, so fucking rude, this is the real reason nobody likes Slytherins. With a withering glare, Wrath digs her claws into his leg, then prances away to explore her magically modified cat tower… ungrateful brat! “Your pity party is being put on hold. What we should be discussing is revenge.”
Evan perks up. “I’ve begun compiling some ideas on that already.”
Hands gesturing wildly as he paces across the room, Evan lists nearly two dozen ways they can ‘get back’ at Travers. With each new suggestion, the violence increases tenfold, to the point where Crouch and Sirius share several ‘what the fuck’ looks. A solid fifteen minutes later, he comes to an abrupt stop. “Sirius, can you clarify something Pandora was annoyingly vague about?”
Drying his tears on his own handkerchief, Sirius sniffles, “I’ll try.” Although he wanted to do it in private, for a breakdown, this one is strangely cathartic.
“What did Potter do to Travers?”
Of all the things for Panda Bear to be vague about, it’s interesting that she chooses that one, Sirius muses to himself. It’s pretty obvious what happened, even if it wasn’t confirmed outright.
Deciding Pandora probably had a reason for not saying anything, he shrugs. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try us.”
Whelp, hopefully her reason wasn’t a good one.
“Can you keep a secret?” Evan and Crouch share a quick glance. “Regulus knows, and although it’s kinda obvious, no one else knows without a shadow of a doubt.”
“Of course, we can,” they say in unison.
Mmmkay, that’s creepy. However, Sirius genuinely believes they won’t tell anyone. And as much as it pains him to admit this, it’s likely they’ll view the issue similarly to how he does - James’s willingness to defend Regulus’s honor with actual consequences… painful consequences, at that… earns him heaps of brownie points in Sirius’s mind. And extra points for how he went out of his way to do it!
A malicious smirk forms on his face. “Well…”
Notes:
Look at me posting two weeks in a row! Believe it or not, we're coming up to the end of this fic. Not sure how many chapters are left, I haven't decided yet, but there *will* be multiple stories that follow this one in the future (one-shots, smaller chapter fics, and a 'main' sequel).
Also, since it's October, I've been writing a cute Jegulus demon-Regulus fic. Hopefully will finish by Halloween, so look out for that! :)))
And Happy Hobi's Military Enlistment Is Over Day to those who celebrate!
Chapter 42: Dear Brother,
Notes:
It feels weird posting on a not-Thursday, but I'm peer pressuring myself to finish the touch-ups on the next (and last omg) chapter
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Correctly concluding that Sirius is using their presence to delay packing his things, Evan bids him (an awkward) farewell, dragging Crouch away too, the putz. Looking around at all of his things spread throughout the room, Sirius flops onto Reggie’s bed with a whine.
Guess there’s no better place to start than where I left off, he thinks to himself.
Grabbing the giant pile of books on Regulus’s nightstand (after his sixty seconds of sulking time is up… anymore than that, and the chances of him moving decrease drastically with each passing minute), Sirius sorts them into three piles, ‘mine’, ‘Reg’s’, ‘Reg’s, but maybe mine for a bit?’ It's fairly straightforward work, though he grows increasingly alarmed by how many books about the Animagus transformation land in his brother’s stack. Sirius makes a mental note to have a word with James later… he better not be influencing Regulus down this dangerous path! It’s bad enough for James, Peter, and Sirius to attempt such complex magic without proper guidance, but they have a legitimate reason for wanting to accomplish the challenging feat, a reason that has NOTHING to do with personal pride. If it wasn’t for Remus’s furry little problem, becoming (illegal) Animagi would not be something they'd even think of doing… erm, probably not. At the very least, they would wait until they graduated! Not to mention, James and Sirius have a significant advantage over Regulus; they’re dab hands at every area of magic needed to succeed with the transformation. Exceptionally intelligent, Regulus has no problem scoring straight O’s in McGonagall’s class, but there’s a major component in the Animagus process that has nothing to do with Transfiguration... and that of course is Potions, which apparently Reggie is pants at (Sirius thinks it’s more of a confidence issue than anything else, but that too is a problem to address another day). And last but not least, the three Gryffindors were able to rely on/motivate each other! Without a doubt, Sirius could have succeeded all on his own, but it would have been dreadfully boring without his mates by his side.
That begs the question; if James is secretly encouraging Regulus down this path, how is Sirius going to respond?... angrily, for starters! This is the sort of convoluted parenting decision he has no desire to make, and for James to stick his nose into Regulus's life and thus force Sirius to choose a stance... grrr, James Potter, grrr! Because on one hand, it would be bloody fantastic to run around Hogwarts with Regulus as animals. Sirius would bet his beauty and his brains that his little brother's form is a feline (though hopefully not a 'big cat', so Reggie can blend in with his buddies around the castle). But on the other hand… despite what the Blacks like to think, Sirius does NOT support Regulus taking unnecessary risks, and he can admit in the privacy of his own head, this was a big one. Death made sure Sirius understood that! Also, if Regulus was an Animagus too, it'll make it harder to hide Remus's major secret from that clever little snake. Fancy Seer powers and all, Sirius is certain his brother doesn't know about the werewolf among them - there's no way he'd be cool about it if he did.
There is one certainty in all of this - if James is nudging Reggie down this path, he’s going to lose a lot of the good will he just earned for beating (and burning, heh) the stuffing out of Travers, at least in Sirius’s mind!
Relax, Reg’s a swot who likes to know things, he firmly reminds himself. Doesn’t mean he’s going to try it… even if these books are all about theory and the process itself, rather than famous Animagi throughout history… Merlin’s mustache, I’m going to beat the stuffing out of James the next time I see him!
The last book in the towering pile is one Sirius doesn't recognize at first glance. It's thinner than the others, with a black, leather bound cover. Flipping through the pages to figure out what it is, Sirius makes an interesting discovery - Regulus never gave up his childhood habit of drawing, and these sketches serve as irrefutable proof that his little brother has only gotten better over the years. Which duh, that’s logical, but Reg was already quite the artist as a young tot… even his doodles were masterpieces! Now, though? Sirius could fill an entire sprawling museum with his brother’s wondrous works!
Should he put the sketchbook down, now that he knows what it is? Yes. Is Sirius going to do that? Nope! He’ll live with the guilt for the rest of his life... or until an hour or two from now, when he forgets this whole thing entirely. Truth be told, the curiosity is too much for Sirius to bear.
The first section is scenery, pretty and beautifully detailed, but not the type of thing Sirius is secretly looking for. Regulus dedicated the rest of the book to magical creatures and animals, from Hagrid’s mutt, to the thestrals that pull the Hogwarts carriages, various house elves (some Sirius recognizes, many he does not), and what has to be every cat in this bloody castle. There’s even a lovely rendering of Professor McGonagall in her Animagus form, looking stern as ever while wearing a pair of spectacles and a pointed black hat; her floating speech bubble says, ‘We do NOT call other students the c-word!’.
Disappointed by the lack of juicy material, Sirius is just about to put the sketchbook back on the nightstand, convinced there’s nothing exciting in there, when he accidentally nicks his finger on the edge of a page.
Merlin’s soggy bread crumbs, Reg’s gonna know someone was snooping through his stuff if there’s blood on his book! And the first person he’s gonna accuse is ... wait, where did it go?
Sucking on the tip of his stinging finger, Sirius abruptly remembers that he’s a wizard and heals the wound with wandless magic. He checks thrice over, but nope, not a single trace of blood on the book, suspicious, very suspicious. If Sirius’s memory is to be trusted (often a risky gamble, but in this case, he’s certain he’s right), there's also twice as many pages as there was before. Growing up in a house bursting to the brim with Dark Magic, a book that doubles in size after absorbing a drop or two of magical blood is never a good sign…
Oh, what a paranoid git! Sirius laughs to himself.
The book hasn’t transformed into something wicked - it’s still Regulus’s artwork. But the hidden pages are the ones he wouldn't want any nosy busybodies seeing if they happened upon the sketchbook. Sirius hadn't spared a thought in regards to the magical residue he sensed on the book, assuming it was from the spells Regulus used throughout his drawing process (such as erasing anything he was unhappy with).
Aww, poor Reg… if only he knew the blood flowing through his veins has a touch of my magic too. He’ll never be able to keep his big brother out.
If Sirius thought Regulus liked to draw animals/creatures, it’s nothing compared to how often he draws people.
There’s a decent number of sketches of Reg’s three best friends, including one of Pandora skipping through the Forbidden Forest, swinging a wicker basket in her hand… Sirius makes a mental note to casually remind his brother that the forest is indeed forbidden, so he best stay away from it in the future!
“Ick, ick, ick.” Battling a wave of nausea, he quickly flips through what he labels in his head as the ‘crush’ section of the book; the lead singer of that DiE band Regulus is obsessed with, a few models he vaguely recognizes, that famous vampire advocate bloke, the Prewett twins, Justin Fawley, Michael McKinnon (or rather, uhh… the back of him), Newt Scamander…
“Regulus, noooo, not you too!” Sirius wails dramatically. Blimey, it takes every ounce of self control he possesses to not rip out the drawing of Pierre Legrand and set it on fire. Until the day he dies, he will never understand the mass appeal of that mediocre, talentless, utterly boring tosser!
Not a single drawing of James, he muses once he makes it to the end of that traumatic segment. Interesting... was Reggie’s gay awakening fairly recent? Wait, no, he said that for years, he couldn’t figure out what was so special about James Potter besides his ‘aesthetically pleasing face’. But does that REALLY count as an awakening? Or is it just the eye of an artist?
The next section is dedicated to the House of Black. Their parents and a large portion of their extended family are drawn at least once. Curiously, they're not drawn in a portrait style, but scenes that make them look like real people, rather than the posh blighters they act like outside of the house (like when Aunt Cassiopeia, drunk off her rocker, decided to sit all of the children down for 'story time' and gave them sippy cups filled with wine to get them to 'shut up and stop interrupting'... ah, good times). Their cousins, however, appear almost as often as Reg's mates. Personally, Sirius's favorite is the gory rendering of how Regulus imagined a standoff between Bella and her arch nemesis, Scarlett Bulstrode, would have ended if Slughorn hadn’t intervened. His brother really does have an outstanding (morbid/gruesome/gory) imagination! Another favorite is a drawing of Bella, Andie, and Cissa decked out in extravagant robes, their long hair braided into elaborate up-do’s. Adorning each girls’ head is a golden crown sparkling with different color gems. The Black sisters are perched on throne-like chairs in the Common Room, their Slytherin housemates kneeling on the ground at their feet. It’s so snooty and absolutely bloody spot on to how they're taught as children to think of their House! If Regulus wanted to curry favor with their family on a large scale in an easy, relatively painless way, he should make a version for each Black and give it out as a Christmas gift.
Sirius is pleased as a pickle to find himself amongst the pages; looking regal while hovering on his broom during a Quidditch match; mid-laugh in the Great Hall, surrounded by a gaggle of admirers with literal heart-eyes; Sirius himself with heart eyes of his own, gazing at Remus reading a book underneath a tree. Looking at the date on the bottom of the page, he snorts; by the second month of his Hogwarts career, Reggie had sussed out how smitten Sirius was with Rem. Figures.
Interestingly, none of the drawings of Sirius are in an unfavorable light, even during the years he and Regulus weren’t on good terms. Crikey, the same cannot be said for his best mate! Turns out, Regulus’s feelings about James Potter were so extreme, a dedicated section of the sketchbook was required to express them all. Up until this year, his brother rarely interacted with James, which makes it legitimately fascinating to see how Regulus’s emotions evolved since he began at Hogwarts (oh, he is dying to know what sparked the change!). To Sirius's amusement, the first handful of sketches of the Potter heir happen to be the only stick figures throughout the entire book. They’re also rather, err… brutal, that’s the best way to describe them. They contain lots of ridicule, lots of murder, and a whole lot of scenarios that Sirius does NOT chuckle at because he is loyal to his best mate. Thankfully, as time goes on, the images become more detailed and significantly less morbid, like scenes from Reg’s memory, rather than his violent imagination. It’s obvious Regulus spent a great deal of time ensuring every detail was perfect. Sirius wouldn’t consider himself an art critic by any means, but the drawings seem very… admiring. Not in a creepy way or anything! The last drawing in particular, James is depicted quite unrealistically - Sirius knows his best friend was NOT that buff last year.
He can’t decide if he’s surprised that there’s nothing of Travers in the book, or if that’s what he expected. Unless there’s another privacy spell his magic isn’t able to detect? But in a way, it also makes sense; along with reading, drawing has always been Regulus’s go-to escape from reality. It was something he could do when he was bedridden due to illness, and while their extended family didn’t support his artistry outright, they didn’t discourage it either.
So much of Regulus’s amazing personality, of his incredible, indisputable talent is visible on every page, Sirius wishes everyone got to see this side of his brother. Though when he says every page, he quite literally means every page. The last eighth of the sketchbook takes a turn for the worst. Sirius has a weird, sinking feeling in his tummy that says these drawings aren’t a result of his brother’s overactive imagination. Unlike in the other sections of the book, there’s no dates on any of these pages, as if Regulus didn’t know or didn’t care to remember it.
Each drawing is equally as jarring as the one before it:
- Sitting on the floor of what’s obviously a cell, a starved-looking Sirius dressed in rags with haunted eyes and a body covered in prison tattoos (not the kind of daring look present-day Sirius ever wants to attempt!)
- A suspiciously Potter-esque baby, with brilliant green eyes and a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, wailing in his crib, a redheaded woman facedown on the floor in front of him
- Alone on an island in the middle of a vast cavern, a slightly-older Regulus crawling towards the water where underneath, thousands of Inferi lurk below the surface
- A slightly-older Fabian and Gideon lying dead on a bloodstained carpet in a torn apart living room, five hooded figures looming over them
- A decently-older Sirius falling backwards through some creepy veil, a James Potter look-alike watching in horror next to a decently-older Remus, both too far away to reach him
- Famed Auror Alastor Moody aiming his wand at a snarling, slightly-older Evan Rosier, who looks next-to-nothing like the cute kid Sirius knows is roaming around the castle somewhere, the page shaded with the green hue reminiscent of the Killing Curse
- Barty Crouch Jr, also decently-older and looking like he’s been through the ringer, staring vacantly into the distance, a Dementor floating beside him
- A little blonde girl sitting atop rubble and crying over the dead body of Pandora
Then perhaps the most chilling, simply because it’s startling familiar...
- A younger Regulus lying in bed next to Sirius, both of them peering up at the unmistakable figure of Death. It’s the only page within this ‘spooky’ section that contains a speech bubble - ‘You are late, Regulus Black. I grow tired of waiting.’
Oh, nope, scratch that.
Hands down, the last page is the worst part of all; Death looming over the corpses of all the people Regulus even mildly cares about (human and non). But it’s not a summary of the eerie pages that came before it. No, that would be tolerable. Unlike the drawing right before this one, Death’s hood is lowered. His face is recognizable, but he’s not the handsome bloke Sirius somehow befriended.
‘Death’ isn't Thanatos.
Death is Regulus.
Objectively speaking, this isn’t his brother’s best work, especially when compared to the rest of the book. Not only does it look rushed, but the smudges make Sirius think it started to drizzle right as Regulus was finishing up... at least, that’s what he is going to tell himself. He double checks the other pages to confirm, but this particular drawing is the only one ‘worthy’ enough for a title.
Inevitable
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
*This* is why his brother is always so anxious, isn't it? What a horrible thing to see… dream? Is this their future? There seems to be absolutely ZERO happiness insight, just death, death, death, death, DEATH… actual death, not the bloke himself in all his ridiculously attractive glory. Merlin, do any of them make it to forty?! And wait, does that last page have anything to do with why Death… the real one… didn’t sense Regulus’s foray into the lake? Are the two of them switching places? How the FUCK could that even be possible?!
It doesn't escape his notice that several pages at the end of the book are torn out… fuck, Sirius genuinely hopes there's a simple explanation. Like maybe his brother just didn’t have his wand on him to vanish the ink, so he ripped them out, too angry or annoyed to let them remain until he could magically fix his booboos? Regulus is a well-known perfectionist, it’s certainly within the realm of possibility.
Or maybe he got embarrassed after drawing a lovey-dovey sketch of James… or oooh, Sirius bets it was just oodles of doodles of cheesy rubbish, like Regulus Arcturus Potter (never gonna happen, that would NOT fly with the elders)… or James Fleamont Black (barf)… or Regulus Arcturus Black-Potter (screw the elders, that doesn't fly with Sirius!)... Regulus Arcturus Potter-Black (acceptable).
But nah, who is Sirius kidding? Those last pages were definitely filled with scribbles of R.A.B. + J.F.P, complete with lots of hearts and sparkles. Reggie probably even broke out the colored quills to make it all pretty and everything!
So yeah, nothing to worry about.
Nothing at all…
Godric’s gumdrops, stop dwelling on it! Sirius mentally berates himself. *THIS* is also why none of your Seer ancestors made it to twenty!
With herculean effort, he flips back to the middle of the book. He’s giggling to himself over a comic panel of Tibby the house elf fixing ‘troll-Sirius back into a real boy’ when there's a sharp knock on the door, once again scaring the living daylights out of him.
“Montague says you’re taking way too long,” Andromeda waltzes into the room without waiting for a response, her pale shadow in tow. “We figured you got distracted.”
“Ever heard of knocking?” Sirius angrily demands, wiping a hand over his damp eyes. “It’s this thing polite people do before entering a room.”
Narcissa rolls her eyes. “No need to hide your tears from us, cousin. We’ve known all along that you’re a wittle crybaby.”
“I am not!” he squawks, closing the book and dropping it back onto the nightstand. Sirius doubts very seriously… heh… that his baby brother wants their nosy cousins all up in his artwork. “You three started picking on me from the very moment I popped out of Mother’s womb!”
“Before we were brought in to meet you, Father pulled us aside and told the three of us that it was our duty as your closest cousins to toughen you up,” Andromeda shrugs. “To make sure the heir to our House ‘wouldn’t be a sissy boy’, isn’t that what he said?” Narcissa nods. “And you know how seriously Bellatrix takes her duties to the family.”
Pfft, sounds exactly like something Uncle Cygnus would say, the jealous bastard! He adores his daughters, there’s no denying that. But he's always been bitter that Sirius and Regulus get all the attention, because they're the two males who can carry the family line.
“Funny how my brother and I were not treated equally in that regard.”
Not that Sirius would have tolerated them being mean to Reggie, but still.
“You don’t remember?” Andromeda asks in disbelief, dropping down onto the bed beside him. “Regulus wasn’t even two… Bella took a toy from him, that stuffed dragon he was obsessed with, and you threw a bloody fit! No one could prove it, of course, but she was convinced it was you who set her hair on fire. So, she reasoned that she could make due with harassing you, which was technically what Father instructed anyways, if you were only going to react like that when she taunted Regulus.”
Oh yeah, Sirius remembers now. He accepted credit for it, though he’s fairly certain his brother was the one who did it. Sirius stayed silent for two reasons; one, he didn't want to risk getting Regulus in trouble, and two, in all probability, no one would have believed him anywho! Besides, Bellatrix was less annoying for a bit since she thought it was Sirius who set her hair aflame. A win-win in his book.
“Now, speaking of you being a sissy…” His cousins smirk in an eerily similar way. “Do you want these?” Andromeda hands him a pair of dangling earrings. “I know you’re growing your collection -”
“What’s wrong with them?” Sirius asks suspiciously, poking the gorgeous set of teardrop earrings with his wand. He doesn’t sense any magical residue on them, but a Black can never be too sure. Just look what happened to poor Reggie this summer! (granted, the watch Regulus touched was DRIPPING with Dark Magic. But magic is a finicky thing. Maybe there are certain spells Regulus can easily discern that Sirius can’t?).
It’s a small comfort that Andromeda nods approvingly at his paranoia… had she gotten offended, then he’d KNOW there was something amiss.
“Upon further reflection, they’re not my style. But you know -”
“Impulse,” Sirius hums, as Narcissa says, “Buyer’s remorse.”
“Yep. And since Cissa has too many to begin with,” the blonde sticks her tongue out at her sister, “I figured I’d start with you.”
Conjuring a mirror with a flick of his hand, Sirius puts the sparkly earrings in his ears. They don’t really go with the boring casual robes he decided to wear today, but he doesn’t care.
Pretty, pretty, pretty, he squeals in his head.
“Thank you. They’re lovely.”
“You’re obsessed with them, aren’t you?”
“I said they’re lovely, okay, what more do you want?” Sirius sniffs, lifting his nose. “But speaking of obsession...” The mood instantly becomes downtrodden. It’s obvious they’re not talking about earrings anymore. “How did we… how did we miss all of that?”
Lowering herself onto Regulus's desk chair, Narcissa wrings her hands together. “I genuinely had no idea anything was wrong until last year, when you tricked Regulus into confessing after the mid-season tryouts. Even then, he completely downplayed it, made most of it sound like Quidditch-drama. I reasoned that Travers being kicked off the team due to Regulus's efforts was a satisfactory punishment. I thought I kept an eye on him after that, but…” She grimaces. “I was so distressed by Lucius’s impending-graduation, I must have lost track of them both.”
“I was so wrapped up in my own world, I thought all of it was contained to the Quidditch Pitch,” Andromeda admits softly. “Jocks being jocks about sports. For some stupid reason, I’ve associated Regulus with being our team’s Seeker since he came to Hogwarts… but first-years can’t play Quidditch, can they?”
Sirius shakes his head. “No, not unless they get some sort of exception. Do you think Bella knew about any of it?”
Both of his cousins scoff, which weirdly makes him feel better.
“Absolutely not,” Andromeda says resolutely, “though he must have been incredibly careful, seeing as how her minions never reported it. Either that, or they hold more loyalty to Travers than to Bella.”
“You know what that means, right?” Narcissa asks, blue eyes blazing with righteous fury. “When Travers comes back, we can’t rely on anyone else in the Snakepit, save for us, Barty, Evan, El -” Her brows furrow together. “Wait, Ella is on the Quidditch team. She must have seen something problematic over the years, right? But she never said anything.”
“Let me be very clear.” Andromeda’s eyes sweep between Sirius and Narcissa, lingering on her sister. “We all missed what happened to Regulus. There’s no point in blaming someone for not telling us something strange they might have seen. Once Travers returns, it’s going to be a joint effort to ensure he doesn’t bother Regulus again. We cannot afford to ostracize valuable allies." Chagrined, Narcissa's shoulders slump, and she nods in understanding.
“We should talk to Bells too, get her to whip her minions into shape.”
They realize it at the same time.
“Someone is going to have to tell Bella,” the three Blacks groan in unison.
Touching his finger to his nose, Sirius cries, “Nose goes!” Finally realizing that he’s a trendsetter, Narcissa hastily does the same. “You lose Andie, so you get to tell Bella the full details.”
Andromeda pales. “No, I… you should be the one to tell her, Sirius -”
“Fat chance! I reported the assassination attempt to her, so I’m sure there’s a Howler with my name on it headed to our fine institution as we speak. Someone else can take one for the team.”
“Regulus is your brother.”
“So? She’s your psychotic sister!”
Sirius does NOT have a death wish, he is not going to be the one to tell Bellatrix Lestrange all the horrible things some prick said/did to her favorite family member, right under their noses. Even if it’s just in a letter, no ma'am, no sir, miss him with that bollocks, please and thank you! But SOMEONE needs to tell her. Otherwise, they're all going to face her unmitigated wrath if she hears the news secondhand... or thirdhand, if Phineas Nigellus Black delivers the horrid news to Grimmauld Place as Sirius expects he will.
“You already opened a line of communication with her on the subject.”
“This goes far beyond someone pushing Reg into the Black Lake, thus making your point irrelevant.”
“You’re more likely to survive because you’re the heir -”
“But I’m also a man!” Sirius throws his hands in the air. “And in case you somehow forgot, thanks to that Bloke-We-Do-Not-Speak-Of, Bell hates men!... honestly, I’m still shocked she married Lestrange after all that.”
Narcissa watches their discussion with wide eyes, her lips firmly shut. She won’t be volunteering for the hazardous task, and is likely hoping they forget she exists all together.
“No, I won’t do it.”
“Look, we’ll help you write it -”
“NO!”
The floor starts to shake. Cissa shoots Sirius an annoyed look, though as one, their eyes drift to Andromeda. He’s never seen his older cousin so… discomposed. Struggling to catch her breath, her chest rises and falls, like she just finished a long-winded rant. Her hair is in total disarray around her head, and there’s a freneticism in her eyes that Sirius has only seen in his mother’s after the worst of her rages.
“Andie…”
“Please, Siri.” The older girl takes a shuddering breath. “Please don’t make me tell her.”
This has to be about more than just delivering bad news to Bella... right? He suddenly recalls the realization he had as they were returning to Dumbledore's office, following that fifteen minute break.
Carefully, so carefully, Sirius drapes his arm over her shoulders. “It’s okay to be upset over what happened to Regulus, you know that, yeah? You can let it out, it’s just us.”
Andromeda’s lip wobbles, but she irritably shrugs his arm off, so obnoxiously stubborn, sheesh. “I’m fine. Everything is fine. I’ll do it, I'll write the letter. So, if you’ll excuse me -”
Sirius and Narcissa exchange a quick glance.
Blocking her sister's path to the door, Narcissa reaches for her hand. “No. We will send it as one."
“A united front," Sirius agrees. "If it worked with my father, maybe it’ll work with Bella.”
They don’t give Andromeda a chance to say no. First, they borrow a spare roll of parchment from Crouch’s desk, and then a fancy quill from Evan’s (after removing the curse on it to prevent anyone else from using it). One of the books on Regulus’s nightstand is repurposed as a makeshift desk. Then to top it off, Narcissa casts a handy charm that makes the quill float above the parchment, ensuring the handwriting on the letter is none of theirs.
“Where do we even start?” the Gryffindor asks with a sigh.
“Wouldn't it be nice if we could just send her the memory of the time in Dumbledore’s office?” Narcissa snorts. “I'd buy her a Pensieve for Christmas if I didn't think she'd curse me for giving her a 'lame' gift.”
“I dunno, I really do think she’d get a kick out of Rem lighting that crackpot’s office on fire, and James beating the stuffing out of Travers... also, those are bloody expensive, for the record." As someone with a shitty memory, Sirius thought it would be splendid to review things after the fact, but blimey, what a scam!
“I told Uncle Orion that Potter was a good candidate for Baby Reg!”
“Yes, about that. " His eyes narrow. "Have you actually been observing James for years, or was that a little white lie?”
She pins him with a look that screams, ‘How are you this stupid?’... which, uhhh, rude! “Did you look at Regulus at all during his Sorting? Like when he was in line for his turn?”
Uhhh, Sirius doesn’t know what he did yesterday, let alone… oh wait. “Tried to, but I couldn’t really see him. He was so short back then, ya know?”
“He really was the cutest,” Cissa smiles fondly. “The twins told me -”
“Which twins?”
“Fabian and Gideon, obviously.”
“How would that be obvious?!”
The uncivilized witch pinches his side. “They told me the very next morning that Baby Reg was staring at Potter like he hung the moon, stars, and invented Quidditch.”
“What?!”
The older girl nods solemnly. “So, I kept observing, and... wow, Sirius, you really had no idea Potter’s been secretly obsessed with Regulus for the last year and a half-ish?”
“No! But apparently, there’s a lot of things I had no idea about.” Clearly, this means he isn't nosy enough! “Alright, back to this letter. What about…" Frowning at the empty parchment, Sirius racks his mind for a proper intro. "Ooh, got it!" He pompously clears his throat. "Dear Bella, were you aware that Larson Travers has been psychologically torturing Regulus for the last three years?”
“She’s going to take that as an accusation, you dunce! You need to be softer. Maybe…” Narcissa taps her finger against her chin. “Following Larson Travers’s assassination attempt on Baby Reg, it has come to our attention that the swine in question has spent the last three plus years pursuing an egregious psychological campaign of torture on the House of Black’s youngest member -”
“That’s too fluffy. Why don’t we just list everything Travers said or did in bullet points, and let her draw her own conclusion? We can put it in columns, make it easy to read -”
“Columns and bullet points?!” Narcissa cries in outrage. “You can’t be serious?!”
“I assure you -”
“Don’t you fucking dare -”
“I am always -”
Their bickering is interrupted by a broken sob.
“Sorry!” Andromeda covers her mouth with her hand, several tears streaming down her cheeks. “C-carry on.”
Making a pained noise, the Black heir wraps his arms around his cousin. She tenses and tries to pull away, but (begrudgingly) relents when Sirius starts rubbing a hand up and down her back.
“Let it out, Andie,” he murmurs, squeezing her tightly. All three of them wince at the sound of her bones cracking in Merlin-knows how many places. Dear Godric, that can’t be healthy! “You’ll feel better afterwards, I promise.”
“I’m fine.”
In any other situation, Sirius would laugh at how ridiculously determined his older cousin is to maintain her composure, to keep a ‘stiff-upper lip’ despite the emotionally jarring day they’ve had. He also gets it, though. Back in the corridor when they were waiting for Travers’s non-punishment, Sirius felt like if he lost control of his emotions for a single second, he’d never be able to put a lid on them ever again. The sorrow, the guilt… it’s suffocating. But after his impromptu breakdown with Evan and Crouch, Sirius feels ready to take on the world… and by ‘take on the world’, he means, ‘destroy Larson Travers’s entire bloodline, along with the bloodlines of anyone who had a hand in helping him’ (not a single person in this castle had knowledge of what Travers was doing to Regulus? Nah, Sirius doesn't believe it. Even if the only thing that person did was keep their mouth shut, to Sirius, they're guilty).
Death is going to have a busy few months, he thinks to himself. It’s another thought that brings him comfort. Crouch was right, they can’t fix the past, but Sirius will be damned if he doesn’t eliminate the threats to Regulus’s future happiness.
“Are you fine? Are you really?”
“Y-yes.”
There’s a pregnant pause.
“Each of us will need to be at our best to survive what's coming. One slip-up, and the future of the House of Black meets an untimely end.”
“Well, that’s fucking ominous. You sure do know how to cheer a lady up!” Under her breath, Narcissa mutters, “Thank Salazar you’re gay, sheesh.”
"What's ominous?" Sirius asks bemusedly.
"What you just said, obviously."
"I didn't say anything!"
With her face pressed against his chest, Andromeda's giggle is muffled. But her mirth doesn't last long. Soon, the room is once again filled with the sound of gut-wrenching sobs.
“That’s it, Andie, let it out,” Sirius coos.
Eventually, he succeeds in rearranging them so his back is leaning against Regulus’s headboard. It's much more comfortable. Now that Andromeda has let the dam break, there's no end in sight to her despair... Sirius thought he had a lot of tears to shed, but blimey, they’re at risk of drowning here!
Bad joke, bad, bad, bad!
“She’s going to… she’s g-going to kill me!” Andromeda cries.
Out of sight of her sister, Narcissa rolls her eyes. “Bella’s going to be… upset… yes, but she’s not that crazy.”
Recognizing that his comment won’t make Andromeda feel better, Sirius mouths it instead, ‘Are you sure about that?’
“It’s not like you personally did anything to Regulus, sister.”
Andromeda wiggles out of Sirius’s hold. “But that’s just it. Neither of you get it! It was… after Bella graduated, it became my duty to ensure all three of you were alright. If anyone ran their mouth about you lot, or dared to raise a wand in your direction, it was my responsibility to ensure they faced swift retribution. And I… I failed. I failed, and Regulus suffered more than any of us could have ever imagined.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility for one person.” Handing her a clean handkerchief, Sirius forgoes asking why he’s included within that… maybe Andromeda decided to add him to her one-woman-protection-squad, because there’s no way -
“Bellatrix didn’t have any problems,” the older girl scoffs. “She had a grand ‘ole time in your first semester at Hogwarts, Siri. Poor Madam Pomfrey had to deal with so many mysterious illnesses and injuries, I’m surprised she didn’t quit.”
“WHAT?!” Sirius and Narcissa gasp at the same time.
Andromeda flushes. “Fuck, she’ll kill me for that alone. Umm, heh, anyways…”
Sirius makes a mental note to follow up on that line of mind-fuckery later. He hates to be the one to say it, but since Bella’s not here to stab him…
“Be that as it may, for the two years she was here while Regulus attended, she also missed Travers harassing him.” Three pairs of eyes nervously dart to the closed dormitory door, as if they’re all expecting Bellatrix to come bursting in. Yeah, definitely time for a topic change. “Side question, do you really think it’s a good idea to let Reg nap alone in your room, Andromeda?”
Narcissa gives him an odd look. “Why in the world would he nap in either of our rooms?”
Sirius blinks. “Reggie told me he was going to ‘decompress’ in Andie’s room after he walked Pandora back to Ravenclaw.”
“We haven’t seen him since Dumbledore’s office.” Panic flares within Sirius at Andromeda's words. He knew there was something fishy going on! “I’m sure he’s fine, though. Probably needed some space.”
“Or he’s with Potter,” Narcissa says with a sly grin. “And he didn’t want you interrupting.”
Andromeda flicks her sister in the forehead. “Don’t stress Sirius out with your romantic delusions.”
“Delusions, are they?! Do either of you SEE the way they look at each other?” She makes a face. "At this rate, I'm mildly worried their wedding will come before mine."
Yep, definitely delusional, Sirius distractedly thinks.
“Slughorn said Travers is already gone," Andromeda divulges, ignoring her sister. "He couldn’t reach Larson’s parents, but he did manage to get ahold of Lance.”
“Since when did they release students into the care of their siblings, even if said sibling graduated already?” Sirius mumbles out, searching for Regulus using their bond. Why is it taking this long?!
“The overall consensus was that Larson was safer outside of the castle walls, rather than within.”
“I mean, they’re not wrong, but it’s telling that they care more about that fuckwad than they do his victim.”
Fuck, Sirius can’t find his brother. He senses their connection, it’s there, he knows it is. But for some reason, he can’t follow the tether that ties them together. That’s never happened before, even when their bond was at its weakest. Additionally, he can't sense Regulus's emotions, though that's happened off and on throughout the day, even when they were in the same vicinity.
He’s distracted from his task by Wrath jumping from Reg’s desk to his bed. Impressed with her feat, he lifts his hand to tickle under her chin… and she sinks her teeth into his flesh.
“Ow, what was that for, ya demon?” Inspecting the damage, he’s relieved to find she didn’t break the skin. But still, ow!
Returning to the desk, she stares him down. “Mrow!”
“Maybe she’s hungry?” Narcissa suggests with a devilish grin, one she’s too ill-mannered to hide.
No, that’s not it.
She wants to show him something, Sirius is sure of it.
Approaching the kitten confirms his theory; underneath her foot, right in the center of Regulus's previously empty desk, is a cream envelope with his name on it, written in his brother’s perfect calligraphy. It must have magically appeared there, because there's no way Sirius wouldn't have noticed it before now. Cautiously, he opens it, not sure what he’s so frightened of… unlike others in this family, it’s not in Regulus’s nature to curse/poison him.
As it turns out, his instincts were spot on.
There's no poison, no curse, no hex, nothing of the sort.
But Sirius was right to be frightened.
The first line makes him want to faint.
Notes:
Dun, dun, dun, a cliffhanger, but I am SURE you can guess what it says ;)
Chapter 43: I Know I Will Be Dead Long Before You Read This, But I Want You to Know…
Notes:
House Points to anyone who knows where this chapter title is from! (I was looking at the chapter index before posting this, and it looks SO emo as the finale title lmao, oopsie)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
‘Dear Brother,
I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know…’
Dead.
Dead.
Dead.
The realization hits Sirius like a bag of bricks to the face.
This is why Regulus has been acting so weird all day, he's planning to… Sirius can’t even think the words in his head. But everything makes sense now; Regulus’s comments to Remus about taking care of Sirius, because he won’t be around to make sure his big brother is alright, his random public display of affection with James, how he stood up to Travers in front of the entire school, sassing Dumbledore straight to his face, refusing to be cowed by an authority figure. All very un-Regulus like things (sadly, the risking his life for a FIREPROOF bird is par for the course with Regulus, he’s just never had such an opportunity before).
“What’s wrong, Sirius?” Andromeda roughly shakes his shoulder. “The letter is blank, you must be the only one who can read it. But you’ve gone all pale, like you’ve seen a Dementor.”
“We need to… we need to find him, my brother, I need to… stop him, we have to stop him, before he... before he does that… but I c-can’t find him, our connection… he’s not there… what if it’s too late? Oh my poor Regulus… how could he think... fuck, Bella’s gonna k-kill me… and I will deserve it -”
Slap!
Sirius holds a hand to his stinging cheek. “Ow!”
Fucking hell, that is the THIRD time someone has slapped him today, and he is getting real bloody tired of it!
“It will be me who kills you, if you don’t stop freaking me out!” Narcissa shrieks, her face as red as he imagines his to be. “You’re making less sense than usual… you haven’t even looked for Regulus yet, what do you mean you can’t find him?”
Oh fuckity fuck… AGAIN!
Sirius is saved from answering when Andromeda adds to his trauma by jamming her hand down the front of his robes. Removing the vibrating enchanted mirror from the inner pocket he stored it in, she flips it open with a flourish he is NOT envious of.
“Sirius!" James’s worried voice fills the room. "Your brother… oh, hullo, erm… is Sirius there?”
“Where on earth did you get a two-way mirror?!” Narcissa cries enviously, scowling over Andromeda’s shoulder.
The older girl shakes her head. “Not the time, Cissa. Yes, Sirius is here, but he's seconds away from a full on breakdown for reasons unknown. What were you saying about Regulus?”
“He gave us the slip,” Remus responds, sounding slightly out of breath. “We thought maybe he was going back to his dorm, but I… I think he’s headed outside.”
“How could you possibly know that?!”
Without an ounce of shame, James snaps, “We’ve been following him since Dumbledore's office, obviously!”
The two girls glare accusingly at their Gryffindor cousin.
“I have trust issues,” Sirius shrugs. And this is precisely why! Thank Merlin he listened to his gut and asked them to tail Reggie for a bit. “Meet you in the Entrance Hall!” he calls over his shoulder, already halfway to the door.
Racing through the dungeons, Sirius arrives at his destination right as Remus and James are sprinting down the last set of stairs.
“We think he’s headed to the pier!” James blurts, skidding to a stop in front of him. Hazel eyes dart to the two Slytherins accompanying him, then back to Sirius. “Mate, I dunno, I’m sure everything is fine, maybe he’s doing what Madam Pomfrey said, or he’s going to fly for a bit -”
“In this disgusting weather, he better not be doing either of those things!” Andromeda tuts, right as there’s a boom of thunder so loud, they collectively flinch. "Point proven."
“Yeah," James winces. "So, now you understand the weird vibes we’re getting.”
“Honestly, does he have a death wish?!” Narcissa asks with both hands on her hips.
I know I will be dead long before you read this…
“YES” Sirius cries, bursting into tears. “He does -”
Sharp fingernails dig into his forearm, putting a swift end to his melancholy. “Explain to us what is going on right now, or so help me, Sirius Orion -”
“He’s trying to off himself, okay!” Sirius hisses to Narcissa, who at least has the decency to retract her claws. “I don’t know why, and I don’t have time to explain everything now, but he wrote me a letter.” He hurriedly tells them what the first line said. “So, you two can either help us, or piss off… and save your ‘we told you he was depressed’ speech for later!”
After some heated bickering, their group agrees to split in two; the three Gryffindors approach on one side, with Sirius leading, while Narcissa and Andromeda go around to the opposite end in case Regulus tries to make a break for it into the Forest. Howling gusts of wind spray them with a fine mist of chilly lake water. In their haste to reach Regulus, they didn’t think to cast any charms to prevent the skies from drenching them to the bone, but Sirius has bigger problems to deal with right now.
They find Regulus pacing back and forth across a section of the pier, looking irritable and damp, but still whole.
“Hey, Reg,” Sirius calls, slowly creeping towards his brother. The lake is so choppy, he’s not entirely confident Remus could stay afloat, extra abilities and all. “Good day for some coffee and a book, don’t chya think? Inside, in case that wasn’t clear.”
Regulus stares at him with deadened eyes. “You shouldn’t be here… none of you should be. Go back, brother, and take your friends with you.”
“Yeah, can’t do that, little star. You see, I got your letter -”
“I worked that out for myself, thanks.”
A sassy combination of words, but both Regulus’s tone and expression are unnaturally blank. Sirius’s shiver has nothing to do with the freezing rain. “We’re here because we care about you.”
“Which is why I ask that you leave.”
James lets out a strained, anguished sound. “Please, Regulus… you don’t have to do this. Please don’t do this.”
“This isn’t a choice, James,” Regulus snaps, hiding his trembling hands in his pockets. “There are some things even the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black cannot avoid. Death is one of them.”
Sirius’s laugh sounds crazed even to his own ears. “Maybe not avoid, but we can delay Him. We certainly don’t need to invite Him to our doorstep, regardless of how good-looking he is!” (He can feel Remus side-eyeing him, but ignores it.)
“I know you’ve had a really difficult time lately,” James says, his voice tight with emotion. Standing a step behind Sirius, the Chaser’s grip on his shoulder is bruising, but grounding. “No one disputes that. But we can face the future together, yeah? You’re not alone.”
“By the fates, you Gryffindors always make things more difficult than they need to be! Go back -”
“Not just Gryffindors,” Andromeda murmurs, approaching from the other side of the pier.
Flinching at the sight of their cousins, Regulus scowls at his brother, as if Sirius betrayed him by telling the girls about his letter, pfft. “This is ridiculous, Sirius!”
“I concur, little star. Let’s go inside, yeah?”
“Would you get ahold of your boyfriend, Remus?!”
Standing on Sirius’s left, his body angled as if he's expecting to leap into the water at any moment, Remus shakes his head. “Afraid I’m with Siri on this one.”
Even in the raging storm, the tears flowing steadily from Narcissa’s eyes are visible. “Please, cousin. Let us help. I know we let you down before, but give us another chance… please, Regulus, we’ll make it up to you, I... I promise.”
“There might be a brief period of adjustment,” the younger boy says emotionlessly, his gaze fixated on the rippling lake. “But you’ll move on, all of you, and your lives will be better for it.”
“How dare you say that -"
“Before this year,” Regulus continues, as if Sirius never interrupted, “I was no one. I barely had friends, no romantic interests, I wasn’t popular, or even liked. And soon, I will be no one again, no one at all, the way it was always meant to be. I’ll be nothing but a mere blip in your existence. I’ve made my peace with that. I ask that you do the same.” He nods to himself, like he fully believes he’s said enough to convince them to leave.
“I will NOT make peace with that,” James vehemently retorts before any of the Blacks can formulate a rebuttal. “I could never! What… what about Wylan? You promised to look after him, I heard you, Regulus.”
For the first time, Regulus’s eyes light with an emotion other than numbness or irritation. “You… you can help him, James, please look after -”
“I am NOT a replacement for you, that kid and his friends would never tolerate it!”
In the blink of an eye, Regulus's grief is gone. “They’ll manage just fine without me. As you all will.”
“How could you say such hogwash?!” Throwing caution to the wind, Sirius surges forward and grabs his brother’s hands. “Listen to me, Regulus Arcturus, and listen closely… you have never been no one, not to me. You’re my brother, by blood and by choice, my first best friend, the person who taught me what it means to be a decent person, how to love someone separate from myself.” He cups the younger boy’s cheeks, forcing their gazes to meet. “You matter, little star. So, if you’re going to go through with this, then you’re going to have to take me with you. I… I won't live in a world without you in it, Regulus. I refuse.”
Finally, finally, Regulus’s eerily void expression shatters. Keening low in his throat, his brother buries his face into Sirius’s neck. “I don’t… I don’t want to die, you understand that, right? Sirius, please tell me you understand that. I know I joke about it a lot, but I don’t want to. I told you this wasn’t my choice, and I meant it.”
“I don’t understand,” Sirius admits quietly. “What are you doing out here, then? Don’t tell me you have to, Reggie, because that wouldn’t make sense either.”
Regulus says three words that cause Sirius’s blood to freeze in his veins. “I saw him.”
It's impossible to see anything further than their little bubble, since the sky is busy drenching the world below in a relentless cascade of rain. But Death is pretty hard to miss, both because he’s an imposing figure and freakishly beautiful.
Yet there’s no sign of him.
“Who?” James asks when his best mate doesn’t.
“The Grim.” They must stay silent for too long, because Regulus sighs so loudly, it’s perfectly audible over the raging winds. “You don’t know what that is, do you? Bloody hell, how can you be in fifth-year Divination, and not know what the Grim is?!”
“Okay, listen…”
“Do you even own the textbook?”
“James and I share one.” Little Reggie, the swot, looks horrified at the admittance. Sirius doesn't have the courage to tell his brother that neither of them read it. “Heh, Remus knows what the Grim is, though.”
“The Grim is an omen of death, reputed to bring about the demise of the person who encounters it,” Remus says succinctly. He stares at his boyfriend like he’s trying to silently communicate something with him, but uhh… Sirius's brain isn’t operating at its best right now, okay?
“Regulus, the Grim isn’t real,” Andromeda gently rebukes. “Is that what all of this has been about?”
“Yes it is! I saw him this morning, right over there.” Regulus points towards the castle. “Big beast of a thing, staring at me with gleaming eyes, just like in the stories. As any knowledgeable person would, I took it as an omen, the worst kind of omen.”
Hmm, okay, context clues, context clues. Some sort of creature, quite large, made Reg think he’s about to die, called the Grim, Remus asking this morning if his brother is superstitious, then staring at Sirius as if… oh fuck.
There’s no second guessing. Sirius steps away from his brother, waves James back to ensure he has enough space, then lets the transformation wash over him.
“Woof!”
Yuck yuck yuck, being soaked as a giant furry dog is worse than being soaked as a human. He feels so heavy and bogged down, but ooh, what if he jumped in that puddle -
“I KNEW YOU WERE A BAD INFLUENCE, JAMES POTTER!”
“Me?!” James holds a hand over his heart, looking offended. “Me?! A bad influence? I believe you have me mistaken -”
The Chaser falters when Regulus points a wand in his face. “My brother would never do something so… so dangerous, so utterly reckless, on his own volition! I’m sure this entire thing was your idea!”
“It was his idea,” Sirius admits, returning to two legs… and bugger, being soaked in this form is still miserable. Nudging Regulus’s arm down, he sends a mental apology to James for thinking he was leading his baby brother astray, oopsie. “But I did years of research, gathered all the ingredients, and made all the plans myself. So, your anger is directed at the wrong person.”
Regulus gawks at his older brother, open-mouthed. “How… why…” Gray eyes narrow into slits. “Have you been stalking me, Sirius?!”
“Sure have, little star,” he confesses unabashedly, making a concerted effort to NOT look anywhere close to James’s direction. “Only this morning, though. And, erm… I am SO sorry, like super-duper extra extra sorry, for making you think you were on Death’s doorstep.”
“Again,” the brothers sigh in unison.
The storm guaranteed no one in the castle, or even on the edge of the lake, could have seen him, but Andromeda and Narcissa definitely know his secret now. “Cousins, may I have your word you’ll keep this between us?”
Narcissa’s gobsmacked expression would be satisfying if he weren’t so anxious to hear their responses.
“You do… but I can’t decide if this makes you competent for accomplishing something so challenging at such a young age, or wholly incompetent for being foolish enough to attempt such dangerous magic without adult supervision,” Andromeda confesses in an awed voice.
“Incompetent,” her sister huffs, lifting her nose in the air. Sirius would like it to be known that the haughty/superior effect she's aiming for doesn’t hold well in the pouring rain, ha! “And again, I question whether he’s fit to run our family… clearly, he's as mad as he could possibly be!”
“I’ll fit right in,” Sirius boasts, though his smirk falls when he realizes that would also mean he’s a bigot with no sense of fun. Hmm… he should probably throw them a bone if he wants to escape this unscathed. “No need to be jealous, ladies, I’m sure in a few years time, you’ll be able to manage it. I believe in you!”
“You’re going to teach me,” his brother interjects, stubbornly jutting his chin out. “Or I’m telling.”
Sirius rolls his eyes. “You really expect me to believe you’d let me rot in Azkaban if I don’t agree to teach you? Because despite what you seem to might think, I am aware of the penalties for being an unregistered Animagus.”
OH MERLIN, wait wait wait. Didn’t Regulus draw him in Azkaban? Is this why Sirius gets arrested?!
“Obviously, I won’t tell a teacher or an Auror!” Oh phew. “I’m going to tell Grandmother.”
Whelp, that’ll do it.
“I’ll help you," Sirius holds his hand out, "but that means you need to stick around for at least another century.”
Scrunching his nose up, Regulus reaches for Sirius’s hand. “Eww, do you hate me that much, brother?”
“Actually, I love you very much… and you shook on it, so no take backs!”
“I told you that lake was cursed,” Sirius pouts, chivalrously letting Remus pull him into his embrace. “Look what it did to my hair!”
After he agreed to mentor his brother in the Animagus transformation (an irony that is NOT lost on him), they made their way back to the castle without incident… minus the teeny tiny one where a particularly violent gust of wind knocked Sirius clear off his feet, sending him straight into the turbulent water. Remus, the ‘Black Savior’, as Regulus dubbed him, fished his boyfriend out of the lake and swam them to shore before Sirius could even process what happened. But he SWEARS he heard Death’s haunting laughter, the same haunting laughter from the first time he met the immortal figure eight-ish years ago… but there was still no sign of the bloke, so it’s quite possible (highly likely) it was all in Sirius’s head. And isn’t that just a dandy thought?
Following a whispered conversation with James, Narcissa and Andromeda left for the Slytherin dungeons, though not before squeezing Regulus half-to-death in something they tried to claim was a ‘hug’ (to Sirius’s annoyance, his best mate refuses to divulge what the girls wanted to discuss with him). Unwilling to part ways quite yet, the four boys linger in the Entrance Hall. James, who mastered Drying Charms in second year thanks to Sirius’s fastidiousness about their dorm/lavatory being tidy, made sure they wouldn’t be told off by the caretaker, Filch, for tracking water into the castle, while Remus deftly vanished the mud away. To Sirius's immense pride, Regulus took care of the warming charms all on his own.
“Your hair is fine, darling.” Remus drops a kiss on the top of Sirius's head. “Might need a wash, though, it kinda smells like the lake.”
Regulus’s shoulders hunch. “Merlin, can’t imagine what mine smells like after the buckets of rain.”
“Let's find out." James, the weirdo, sticks his nose in the younger Slytherin's hair and inhales deeply. "Ummm... it’s definitely not as bad as Siri’s, I’m sure.”
“Gee, high praise.” His brother heaves his customary angst-ridden sigh, and Sirius quickly blinks away his tears, I can’t imagine a life without that sound. “Guess I know what I need to do now. I’ll, uh, see you all later? At breakfast tomorrow?”
“I got this new shampoo I think you’ll like," the Gryffindor-Black timidly says, looking everywhere but at his brother. "It was just delivered, wanna come try it out? We can sneak you into the tower, piece of cake... and then tomorrow I'll walk you back, so I can finish packing." Should Regulus agree, Sirius is going to borrow the super fancy shampoo and conditioner set he bought for James last year, the one his best mate uses only on 'special occasions', whatever that means. So, it's a lie, but also not really!
James’s eyes brighten. “Yeah, it’ll be fun! And since Sirius’s clothes probably won’t fit you, given how short and skinny he is, not an ounce of muscle to be found, the poor thing, you can borrow some of mine.”
“Oi!” Sirius cries, glaring at the smirking pair. “I am taller than both of you, I’ll have you know!”
“For now,” Remus mumbles, the traitor.
"Barely, brother."
“And I have enough muscle to kick both of your arses!"
“I genuinely do not believe that,” Regulus scoffs. “But fine, I’ll come up for a bit, since I know you’re dying -”
“TOO SOON!” Sirius and James shriek in distress, while Remus lets out a Sirius-esque bark of laughter. Worse, the two morbid sons of bitches high five at the terrible joke!
“... to show off your abode, even though I’ve already seen it.”
James knocks loudly on the door to their dormitory. “Petey, we have guests!"
“Technically only one guest," Remus swiftly corrects.
"Are you decent?” Without waiting for a response, he opens it a crack and pokes his head in.
“Shouldn’t you wait until he says something if you’re so concerned about that?” Regulus chastises under his breath, holding tightly to James's hand now that they're away from the prying eyes of the Gryffindor Common Room.
"He's only doing it for your benefit, little star. Petey doesn't have anything we haven't seen before." Removing the Disillusionment Charm he cast on himself, Sirius returns his brother’s robes back to their rightful Slytherin colors. “And congrats, Reggie, you can pass as me.” Feeling disgustingly sentimental, he boops his brother’s nose, then nearly collapses into a pile of emotional-goo when he senses Regulus’s irritated fondness thrumming down their bond.
“Yay, just what I always wanted. My life goal is complete, so that means now I can -”
Sirius smacks a hand over his brother's mouth. “I know, right? Who wouldn’t want to be me… you three are haters!” he hisses at the skeptical faces reflected back at him. Not wanting to overwhelm his brother... or risk him breaking out the stabby-stabbies... Sirius skips into the room. “One guest, because I actually live here.”
“Sirius!” Peter beams, holding his arms wide. “The king doth return!”
“Petey!” Lifting the shortest Marauder off his feet, Sirius spins them around and around until they tumble to the ground, too dizzy to stand. “Silly me, I am being rude, aren’t I?” Sprawled out on his favorite plush carpet, he gestures to where his brother is standing rigidly in the doorway. “Peter, this is my brother, Regulus. Regulus, this is Peter, the fourth Marauder.”
“Hi!” Peter squeaks, raising a hand up in a half-hearted wave. “Erm, nice to meet you… officially.”
Regulus doesn’t respond, doesn’t blink, doesn’t even look like he’s breathing.
“Uhh… should we be worried?” Remus asks, while James moves his hand in front of Regulus’s eyes… again, no reaction.
Sirius shrugs. “Nah. He’ll snap out of it on his own.”
There’s no telling what’s going on in Regulus’s head when he gets like this. It doesn’t happen often, but this definitely isn’t the first time he’s just gone all glassy-eyed out of nowhere. Best Sirius can figure out is it has something to do with his Seer abilities… either that, or it’s some strange manifestation of his social anxiety. Mayhaps both?
Just as Sirius predicted, Regulus returns to reality… with a freakishly adorable sneeze.
“‘Scuse me,” he mumbles, wiggling his nose. “Sorry, hi, it’s nice to meet you, too.”
It’s enough to melt the tension in the room. Beside him, James coos, which leads to Regulus blushing, and then the cheeky brat turns to Sirius, demanding the shower he was promised.
“A brilliant idea.” Sirius playfully scowls at his super beautiful boyfriend. “Sorry, no couples allowed in the showers, but we would be much obliged if you could fetch us some food.”
“I think you’re the only one here who fetches, darling,” Remus laughs, lightly shoving his arm. “Up for a kitchen run, Pete?”
While Regulus scrutinizes their bookshelf, Sirius picks out clothes and towels for both of them (because despite what James said, the big meanie, he has plenty of things that will fit his lean, petite brother). Shuffling towards the lavatory, he almost drops the bundle in his arms when he crashes into someone lingering in the doorway.
“I said no couples!” Sirius growls at his best mate. He’s not tolerating any funny business when it comes to his little brother, especially after the trauma Reg’s recently endured. “Is this you admitting you don’t listen to me, mate? I am heartbroken, truly.”
Glancing nervously between the two best mates, Remus sports a cute frown that momentarily distracts Sirius from his litany of woes. “James, why don’t you come with us?”
“I’m good,” James mumbles. “I heard you, Siri, but I haven’t showered since yesterday, and I feel disgusting.” He looks over Sirius’s shoulder. “I can wait until you’re done, though, if showering with friends makes you uncomfortable.”
“You can do whatever you want, Potter, it’s your dorm.” Oh, Sirius can hear the hurt in his brother’s voice. “Evan and I shower together all the time, so…”
Even so, it takes him an embarrassingly long time to understand.
“Right, silly me.”
Under the guise of grabbing the towels from Sirius’s pile, Regulus whispers, “Let it go, brother. Please. It’s alright.”
“IT’S NOT ALRIGHT, AND I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT!” He shoves the clothes into Regulus’s arms as well. If he doesn’t receive a satisfactory response, he might need both hands free to punch James in the face for however long it takes until he sees sense. “Two days ago, you looked me right in the eye and confessed you liked my brother… did you lie?”
“Ummm… no?”
Using the hair tie on his wrist, Sirius gathers his long locks into a secure bun at the top of his head.
James takes a large step back. “Whoa, hang on a minute, mate, I think there’s a misunderstanding here -”
“My brother bravely came out in front of the entire school this morning,” Sirius snarls, unclasping his dangly earrings, “but that’s not good enough for you? What’s a bloke gotta do to be boyfriend material in your eyes, huh? That’s what I don’t understand!" He tucks the jewelry into Regulus's pocket. "Or are you just looking to have a good time, no strings attached?”
James opens and closes his mouth before sputtering out, “Are you… are you serious?!”
“Of course,” Sirius and Regulus say at the same time.
“They're SO annoying when they're together,” the Chaser grumbles to himself. Louder, he says, “Of fucking course I want to be Regulus’s boyfriend! But he never said anything about it, so I didn’t want to be presumptuous!” He points an accusing finger in the brothers' general direction. “Plus, I DO listen to you, Sirius, and you were very clear that I could not date Regulus until he turned an unspecified age you’d inform me of once you ‘thought it over for long enough, because we don’t make rushed decisions in this house’… which was confusing in and of itself, because that’s pretty much how ALL the decisions are made in this house!!”
…
Oh fuck.
“Change in circumstance,” Sirius shrugs with faux-nonchalance.
Regulus quirks an eyebrow. “You realize this means you’re all but encouraging me to threaten to off -”
“I MEANT,” he raises his voice to drown out what is sure to be something that’s going to send him into a fit of rage/despair, “that given the snogfest in the Great Hall, I presumed that was my little star telling me he was blatantly ignoring my wishes for him to court his special friend,” Regulus closes his eyes as if he’s in pain… hmm, mayhaps with another Day of Ordeals under his belt, a trip to Madam Pomfrey is in order, “for the next decade, and there was nothing I could do about it.”
“To be fair, I thought I was marked for a rapidly-approaching date with death, so there was no specific intention to my actions, other than doing something I wanted to do. However, not only did I snog you in front of the entire school, James, I ALSO told you how much I liked you, and since I am evidently not marked for an assured, untimely death, I assumed that meant… erm, something.” Faltering at the end of his rant, pink spreads across Regulus’s cheeks.
“Something, as in…”
“As in we would be dating like Sirius and Remus, okay?! Sorry for assuming.”
Sirius grabs his brother’s wrist, preventing him from leaving. “Mate?”
James blinks owlishly. “Oh… please hold, processing here. All my dreams are going to fruition, and it’s overwhelming.”
Yeah, figured as much, Sirius sighs in his head.
“You break him, you fix him!” Remus calls from the opposite side of the room. “We’ll be back in a bit. Please don’t kill each other while we’re gone, or start any fires, yeah?”
“That was one time!” Sirius and James whine in unison.
Before the door closes, Remus scoffs, “You only got caught one time.”
“SIRI GUESS WHAT!!!!” Without warning, James leaps into Sirius’s arms, and only Regulus’s steadying grip on his brother’s shoulder prevents them from falling over. “I have a boyfriend, I have a boyfriend, me, can you believe it?!”
“Honestly, no, not really.”
“You know what, that’s valid. But not only do I have a boyfriend, he is the prettiest -“
“NO!” Regulus screeches out of nowhere, startling the shite out of the two Gryffindors. “Do not finish that sentence, James Potter!”
“But -“
“Sirius is the prettiest,” his sweet baby brother says in a voice laced with malice. “Sirius is the most beautiful, the handsomest, most attractive, and anything else even remotely in that area. There is no debate, NONE.”
“Well,” James drawls, readjusting his glasses. “I guess this is a prime example of what they mean when they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”
Sirius tries to dump the other boy onto the ground, but James refuses to unlock his arms from around his neck… so they land in a painful heap on the stone floor.
“I’m telling Remus you’re trying to kill me!” the Black heir growls, before giving into temptation and biting James’s earlobe. Blimey, he really missed being weird as fuck with his best mate in the privacy of their dorm room.
“Owww, you prick! And I’m going to tell him you’re putting your teeth where they don’t belong!”
“I swear, you two are children -”
A sharp knock reverberates through the room, cutting off Regulus’s admonishment.
“Fuck, Regulus, hide!” James whispers in a panic, but no one has a chance to move before the door is flung open.
“We need to talk,” one of the Prewett twins declares from the doorway. Thankfully, his stupidly broad shoulders block the view of anyone who might be passing by their room. “... what the fuck are you two doing?”
“A great question,” Regulus murmurs, helping James to his feet. Shockingly, he offers Sirius a hand too, but that might be so his brother doesn’t miss the judgmental look on his face. “Hi, Fab.”
“Hi, little star cat… got something for you, but Gid has it.” Turning his head to the side, he shouts, “GIDEON, I FOUND THE PUMPKIN YOU WERE LOOKING FOR!”
Sharing a split-second look, Sirius and James each pinch one of Regulus’s cheeks.
“Little star cat,” Sirius murmurs, as James coos, “Pumpkin!”
Swatting their hands away, the Slytherin hisses at them… well, he hisses at James. He straight up bites Sirius.
“Brat,” the Gryffindor-Black mutters warmly, clutching his hand to his chest.
Once Gideon enters the room, his face devoid of its usual friendliness, Fabian shuts the door behind him.
“Evening, gentleman,” James greets, standing proudly beside his new boyfriend. “How may we be of service?”
Clearing his throat, Regulus steps forward, angling himself in front of the two fifth-year Gryffindors. “Might I begin?”
“Of course,” Fabian nods, the redheads smiling softly at their Slytherin buddy… buddy, not brother, because Regulus is Sirius’s brother, and unlike Sirius, the Prewett twins have another sibling!... an older sister, but still, they can piss off with that madness.
Gesturing behind him, Regulus says, “This is my boyfriend, James.” All four of them wince at James’s excited squeal, the excited squeal he doesn’t bother disguising as anything but what it is.
Sirius is… perhaps… having some regrets about his change in rules already, though he holds his tongue at the absolutely smitten expression on his brother’s face.
The twins sweep the younger Slytherin into an embrace that he tolerates with more grace than a majority of his actual brother’s hugs. Unbeknownst to Regulus, however, the older Gryffindors alternate shooting shrewd looks at James, who (smartly) gulps in terror at the vicious threat brimming in their gazes... Sirius takes a wide step away from his friend. That is James's problem to sort out on his own, Sirius is rooting for him, go team!
“We’re thrilled for you, pumpkin, never doubt that.”
“So, it pains us to ruin the mood like this.” Gideon removes something from his robes.
As one, the twins finish with, “But we think you lot need to see this.”
The latest edition of the Evening Prophet is placed in Sirius’s hands. Heart rate picking up, he unrolls the paper, discomfited by the somberness in his usually lighthearted teammates. Thanks to the bold headline taking up half of the front page, there’s no question as to what the twins wanted them to see…
“MINISTRY OFFICIAL LUCAS TRAVERS CONFESSES TO MURDER OF MISSING WIFE!”
"Mate, you don't think -"
James doesn't have a chance to finish his question. Behind the four Gryffindors, a body hits the ground with a thud.
Notes:
And with that, we're done with the first installment! Apologies in advanced for the long-winded author's note, I have a lot of feelings about this story.
Okay first and foremost, thank you to everyone who has left kudos/comments throughout the posting of this fic, along with any that come in afterwards. You've all inspired me so much, it's actually really hard to put into words. I started writing this in Jan 2023, so it's been nearly a two year journey from start to finish... and ended with easily a 100k more than my initial draft, heh.
With that being said, YES there will be more to this series. When? Lol... great question. First, I'm a perfectionist, so I obsessively read over my fic even after it's posted, because plot holes make me bigtime sad. Example: (I probably shouldn't admit this), but like two months ago, I was getting ready for bed and out of nowhere was like... there's definitely a GIANT discrepancy between when Reg first saw James, so uhh... yeah, I went back and fixed that lol, whoopsie.
Also, I know how my brain works, so I have to have a good portion written + know the ending + come up with a title (which can be stupidly hard) before I start posting. Gives me more freedom to add stuff and not accidentally write myself into a hole. Out of all the additional stuff I've added to this story since posting the first chapter, the core storyline of the final chapter never changed.
After I finish a few other works in progress (including the demon fic I mentioned), the plan is to post a few one-shots as I write the 'main' sequel (which will begin after a small time jump). There's going to be another (short) Walburga-perspective fic for sure, and probably a cute Jegulus fluff fic once inspiration strikes. All of them including the part 2 of this series will tie into the main works (except maybe a small missing scene between Death, Sirius, and Wylan I'm not 100% sure I'm gonna post lol).
So, I'll be back :)
Thank you again for all your love and support!
** Oh, and if the pier scene felt semi-familiar, it was 100% inspired by that gut-wrenching scene in Teen Wolf (the MTV show) between Scott and Stiles in season 3... if you know, you know 😭
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