Chapter Text
Trigger warnings: hate speech, depictions of violence against children, child abuse, SA alluded to, conservative poltical beliefs.
Regulus' hands shook as they rang the bell next to the door. The lights of the house were off, well of course they were it was two in the morning. The rain lashed down on their skin and set the cuts to sting as clothing clung to their thin form. Shivers ran down their body as a rivulet of water walked cold fingers down their spine. They weren’t waiting long when the light over their head flickered on. They winced against the brightness and the door opened. Euphemia Potter was standing behind the door, in her robe looking completely aghast. Fleamont behind her.
“Oh honey,” Euphemia’s voice was soft and sympathetic, and she took in the bruises blooming over pale skin. Regulus sniffed against the sudden warmth in their nose as tears threatened. They wouldn’t cry, crying was for the weak. “Come in out of the rain and let’s get you patched up.”
Regulus stepped into the house glad she didn’t try to touch. Sirius may be into the whole hugs and such, but Regulus really didn’t like hands on them and even less so when every part of their body hurt. The kitchen was warm and smelled wonderfully alive with spices and flowers. Regulus sat in one of the large wooden chairs. Fleamont was fiddling with the kettle while Euphemia went to retrieve a first aid kit. “Do you want me to wake the boys?” she’d asked kindly.
Regulus was surprised they were still asleep with the bell and the lights and the ruckus. Of course, Sirius slept like the dead and honestly, if James managed to share a dorm with him all these years it made sense that he would also sleep like a fucking rock. “Umm… not right now,” Regulus muttered.
Euphemia had left the room and Regulus sat in the chair dripping all over the floor. Fleamont got the burner under the kettle lit. “I’ll go grab a towel and something dry,” Fleamont offered, and Regulus gave a small nod, keeping their eyes on the puddle forming at their feet. They wanted to ask a question, make a request, but kept their mouth shut. The last time they had tried that….
Regulus immediately shut that thought down. This was not the time or place. It didn’t matter how much Sirius went on about how amazing the Potters were. Regulus had fled here because they really didn’t have anywhere else to go but aside from Sirius, these people were practically strangers. They hadn’t spent a night under this roof since they were twelve.
Fleamont returned with a few towels and set some warm clothes on the table. Regulus was relieved to see it was a jumper, likely Sirius’ as the size would have made it too small for James’ broad shoulders and a pair of sweats. Regulus thanked him and excused themselves to the bathroom.
They stripped off the ruined clothes of the evening and dumped them into the bathtub. That was a rule from earlier simple days. Wet clothes and swimming clothes always went into the tub so Euphemia could wash them quickly to avoid mildew. Regulus didn’t honestly care if they ever saw those clothes again.
They dried off and after some consideration took a quick shower to warm up and rinse off the dirt, sweat and in some cases blood. The shower felt like hell on over sensitive skin, but Regulus felt less like they might freeze to death. The soft towel was wonderful against their skin and then Regulus dressed. Sirius wasn’t a large person himself but his sweater was still far too large for Regulus which was fine. Large sweaters were friends. They tucked their hands firmly into the long sleeves. Sweaters that covered the hands, and made the torso look squarer was exactly what they wanted. Sweats hung loosely from small hips and Regulus pulled the drawstring as tight as they could.
Long black curls clung damply to Regulus’ face, cheeks, and neck, staining the shoulders of the sweater with the dark lines of water. A pale face with haunted blue eyes stared out from the mirror. Regulus automatically lifted their hand to brush over a cut in their eyebrow. Once again eyes strung, Regulus pushed back that response. They would not cry; crying was for the weak.
A soft knock sounded, and Regulus opened the bathroom door. “Let’s get you sorted my dear. Fleamont is cleaning a room out upstairs for you,” Euphemia said and guided Regulus to sit down on the edge of the tub. Soft hands skimmed over Regulus finding all the wounds. The cuts were cleaned and bandaged, and the bruises were treated with Arnica cream. “Do you have sprains or strains?” Euphemia asked as Regulus shrugged the sweater back into place.
“I don’t think so?” Regulus answered hesitantly. She ruffled their hair and cleaned up the mess of first aid supplies. They sat in silence while she cleaned up the mess and packed everything away.
“Would you like some food or tea?” she asked kindly. Regulus nodded and rubbed the tip of their nose with the sweater. They would not cry. They followed Euphemia back out to the kitchen. Two mugs of tea sat on the counter, Fleamont was sitting at the table with a third, steaming mug.
Regulus was directed to the table and settled. A mug of tea in their hands and the pot on the stove started smelling very nice very quickly. No one asked any questions while Euphemia heated up some food and Regulus sipped the tea they’d been given. It was one of the many things about the Potter family Regulus had never allowed themselves to admit they liked. Food before a conversation.
“You know when Sirius showed up on our stoop, I thought it would be only a matter of time before we saw you as well,” Euphemia placed a bowl of soup in front of Regulus. Regulus didn’t look up at the kind woman, they didn’t really want to talk about this. They just literally hadn’t seen any other options when they were kicked into the cold. “Do they know where you are?”
“I doubt they care,” Regulus answered, picking up the spoon. The soup was warm and delicious. It took Regulus back to long summers spent in this house. Trailing behind Sirius, Remus, James and Peter, wanting so badly to be a part of their group.
“Well, you are welcome here as long as you would like love. I am going to write your Uncle Alphard just so if Walburga tries anything he can intercede,” Euphemia allowed. Regulus nodded. They knew that as a minor if their parents wanted them back, it would only be a matter of time. Perhaps with Alphard on their side, they would have a chance of staying here.
Euphemia and Fleamont didn’t press for the conversation that Regulus knew they would have to face sooner rather than later. They allowed them to eat in silence and then Euphemia showed them up to the room they would be occupying. “Sirius is the first door on the right, and James is on the left. The bathroom is just down the hall there. We’ll take you shopping in a couple of days when you’re comfortable,” Euphemia explained.
The room was sparsely decorated but comfortable enough. A large bed greeted Regulus with warm blankets and sheets on it. In the corner was a dresser and a desk. Regulus gave the woman a warm hug, “Thank you,” was murmured against her shoulder. She stroked Regulus’ cheek.
“You’re so welcome here. Get some rest. I am sure Sirius is going to have a million questions in the morning. I’ll keep him out of your room until you’re ready to join us for breakfast,” Euphemia promised. Regulus gave her a grateful smile. When the door closed behind her and they were alone it hit them like a ton of bricks.
The heavy breathing that preceded the panic attack, the thick slimy saliva filling their mouth as they sank to the floor against the door. Regulus still fought back tears. Sure, their parents had kicked Regulus out, but they had actually left. Gotten on the bus to anywhere but home. Coming here had been mostly an accident.
Or rather they hadn’t much thought about where they were going until they were climbing off the bus. The aches had set in by that point and Regulus had made their way weakly to the place that Sirius had claimed as his safe haven from the age of eleven. Now though they were dealing with the consequences of a rash choice.
Regulus hadn’t started out this day with the intention of ending it in the Potter house. It had started like a standard day. Every segment of everyday life, even during the summer holidays, is regulated and planned. Regulus had stood beside their parents for everything. All the things that had needed to be done that day culminated in the family dinner.
The Black family was not a close family nor were they all on good terms with each other but that did not matter. They were a society family and that meant every single Friday night they got together for family dinner. Regulus had stood for far too long staring at the outfit helpfully laid out by the maid.
It was respectable and cute, and Regulus knew their mother wanted them to wear it. This was the problem growing up in that family. Everything was regulated. Sirius had snapped first. Chafing and running into the rules, breaking them all the time and unable to be the perfect polished son he needed to be.
When he had met James, he had a way to escape. Regulus had wondered more than once if Sirius had stuck around as long as he had for Regulus. Over the years they had noticed Sirius got loud to protect them. Sirius would do something incredibly stupid and brash to draw attention away from the fact that Regulus had pulled a loose sweater over the family-approved outfit or worn leggings instead of stockings or tights.
Regulus had stared at the dress on the bed for a long time trying to wrap their head around it. Trying to convince their unresponsive fingers to reach out and pick it up. Just put it on, it’s only for a few hours. Numb and frozen with a towel wrapped around them staring at that outfit. Regulus was aware their mother didn’t know how much of a dilemma this caused, in fact in reality it was something Regulus would have picked out. Still, after the disaster last summer that was Sirius coming out, Regulus didn’t dare voice their own concerns.
They didn’t dare tell their parents that they didn’t want to go by she/her pronouns or the name; Regina Astra Black. No, it was just better to get through it. Just put on the dress.
No matter how badly Regulus wanted this to be over with, just to put on the dress and be done there was nothing for it. Their hands would not pick up the simple dress. It wasn’t much, it was a black dress with stars stitched along the hem and neckline in silver thread. They liked the dress because it required very few accessories. Tights neatly laid out beside it. Simple, easy and would keep everyone from knowing anything. They would look like the proper daughter for another night.
It was nights like this they craved Sirius. If Sirius was here, they could put on the dress and a loose sweater over the top and no one would care because Sirius would wear distressed jeans and nipple tassels. (Ok that only happened once, and it was on Halloween.) When Regulus tried to reach out and take the dress, their hands shook.
So instead, they turned to the wardrobe. Already breathing was easier. Their mother was going to have a fit. It also didn’t help that most of the wardrobe was nice clothes that worked for a girl. Still, Regulus reached for the button-down blouse, it was silky and flared out which would help.
A long internal debate was held, slacks or should they try to appease their mother a little bit. Still, a glance back at the bed had them shaking their heads. Slacks it was. They dressed quickly after that not wanting anyone to come look for them. Once they were dressed it was easy to hang the dress back in the wardrobe and close the door firmly.
Long dark curls were pinned back with shiny pins and after some level of debate, Regulus had done make-up. There was pushing luck and then there was actively trying to out themself. The reflection in the mirror was not one Regulus was happy with but hopefully it would keep Walburga happy. Diamonds glittered from their ears, looking for all the world like the stars they all named their children after.
In that house with that family, it would never be that simple. Regulus had made their way downstairs, meeting their parents in the sitting room. Walburga’s sharp eyes had traced over her youngest. The smallest crinkle of her brow had Regulus wanting to shrink away. “Oh honey, did the maid forget to set out your outfit?” her tone was falsely cheery. She had likely ordered the outfit to be set out herself and knew Regulus was flouting orders. “Go change into your dress with the stars.”
She was giving them a chance. Regulus could go back up to the room and change into the dress and stockings. It would be fine. Regulus should take it; they knew they should. Their body was already thinking about it. Still, they couldn’t. It would end with another staring contest with the dress. “No thank you, mother. The outfit was set out for me, but I wanted to wear something different.”
The silence was thick but brittle as Regulus carefully sat down on one of the seats carefully arranged around the room. They were loosely grouped in a circle, enough to seem like they weren’t but very clearly focused on the chair by the fire where the head of the family would sit and issue his decrees. Regulus picked up the teapot and poured themselves a careful measure of tea. Their lipstick stained the edge of the cup.
“Regina, we do not have time for this. Go change right this instant,” Walburga’s voice never rose a single pitch, but every word was sharp like a whip and barbed. This was her do as I say voice. Regulus swallowed their trepidation.
“Walburga relax, she looks very pretty,” Orion intoned. He reached over and caught Regulus’ chin. A kiss was pressed to their cheek and Orion moved to take his seat. Walburga’s mouth pressed into a thin line. She took a seat next to Regulus. They knew it was far from over when a hand descended on their knee and tightened briefly. They were in big trouble.
Tentative peace had lasted over dinner. Walburga shooting loaded looks anytime Regulus opened their mouth. Regulus found themself wishing they’d just worn the stupid dress by the end of it. The family filed out and Regulus was summoned back to the sitting room. The scolding hadn’t hurt.
Regulus was used to it. They had racked up almost as many as Sirius over the years. The sting of the switch across their shoulders had been a little bit more unbearable. Regulus had bit their lip and kept their cries to a minimum. However they had failed to understand one thing, Walburga didn’t tolerate disrespect.
“Why did you decide not to wear the dress?” Walburga asked circling Regulus who was kneeling on the floor. The switch had cut the back of the shirt and Regulus could feel blood on their back. Regulus didn’t want to answer but their mouth opened.
“Because I’m not a girl or your daughter. Perhaps I never was, and I don’t want to wear dresses or go by that name anymore,” Regulus had answered immediately, regretting it. The Black family was not a safe place. They were against it all.
Gay people were sick perverts, lesbians were just confused. (Regulus still remembered hearing about how they had ‘fixed’ Bellatrix’s confusion.) Transgender people were all mental patients, they needed to be shot. Not fixed, not given therapy, Orion was working to pass laws to make the world less safe for trans people. Women didn’t need any rights or say in anything. Yet another thing Orion was pushing for more pro-life laws.
Everything in that house was steeped in hate and the heteronormative cis-gendered traditional way of life. Regulus should have kept their mouth shut. This beating was the worst they had ever received. The noise, the smell, it all reminded them of the night Sirius had run away.
Regulus had been on the stairs that night. They’d watched as Sirius walked into that room with a wink and pulled the door closed behind him. They had seen the mask drop for a brief moment showing a scared 15-year-old kid. The muffled voices rose until Regulus could hear the words over the pained cries. “Shame of my flesh, a disgrace to the Black name. Disgusting, filthy,” had been screamed. All punctuated by Sirius’ crying out when the pain got to be too much. Regulus had hidden when their parents exited the room and made their way as quiet as a mouse into the room.
Sirius had been in bad shape. Regulus had helped him up to his room. Sirius had barely paused in the doorway. He had lurched forward immediately Regulus thought he was falling but no he threw himself under the bed. A duffel bag, mostly packed, was pulled out. Sirius tossed it on the bed and went to the wardrobe.
“Mother doesn’t know this number. I’ll text when I’m safe,” Sirius had muttered pulling out a fair bit of cash and a shiny mobile. Regulus' phone had trilled in their pocket. Sirius had tucked both of those things into the bag and came back over to the door. Regulus could count on one hand the number of times they had hugged and before this moment it had never felt as intense. “Be careful. I am going to James’. Come join me if you ever have need.”
A kiss to the forehead and Regulus had watched Sirius wince as he picked up the bag and slung it over his shoulder. In a far too practised way, they opened the window and slipped out. A hand had come back up and pulled it closed, a wave and Sirius climbed out of sight. Regulus heard the roar of the motorcycle, it was muted and far away, had Sirius pushed his bike to the end of the street to avoid getting caught.
Automatically Regulus had turned off the lights and closed the door. Their own room had seemed a little emptier and colder now they knew they would be without Sirius.
Now it was the same except now not only could they smell the blood and fear, they could taste the blood in their mouth. Cries poured from their lips and the two adults did their best to break the child in the room. It felt like it went on for ages. Regulus was nearly unconscious when they left.
Worse still there was no one to help them. No helpful younger sibling to haul them up, nothing. Regulus had pulled themself up. There was no packed duffle so Regulus had tossed what they could in a bag. There was no shiny cell phone with a number their parents didn’t know so they abandoned their cell phone on the bed. There was no secret stash of cash so Regulus just prayed the credit cards would work until they got to a place that was safe.
Climbing out the window was harder than Sirius had made it seem even if Regulus hadn’t been hurt. Now they sat here in a safe home far from all of that and Regulus just knew one way or another this wouldn’t last.
In a matter of moments, their life had been blown apart by a sartorial choice. Should they have worn the dress? Perhaps. Regulus knew their parents probably would have continued to ignore the tension emanating from the youngest. Regulus would be expected to do their duty, the same as any family member. Marry, have a couple of kids, and raise them the same way. Having feelings, thoughts, and ambitions was not acceptable for the female members of the clan.
They were married off at their father's behest to make smart matches and keep the bloodlines pure. Again, Bellatrix’s marriage had happened at such a young age even some of the extended family mumbled about child brides and ‘Should we marry that young?’ However, since her marriage, Bellatrix had fallen into line. The continued absence of a child though had caused some tension.
Regulus couldn’t do that and knew if they went back, they would be beaten worse. They had left. They had run away. Regulus had seen their mother take matches to that tapestry before. Regulus had never expected to be present while their own name was burned off. They had never expected the still-lit matches to make contact with their skin leaving small burns behind.
Tears didn’t fall but it took Regulus a long time to get their heart and breathing under control. The pain and fear of the night along with the warmth of the house they were now in had robbed them of all their strength. With panic ebbing away exhaustion set in, and they fell asleep with their back against the door, knees pulled up to their chest with their arms wrapped around them.
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