The crow and the snake

by Bluuca

Summary:

Regulus was suppposed to die on his 17th birthday.

Little did he know that time traveling while choking on some kind of poison in inferi infested waters would be somehow easier than just plain old dying.

Or: Regulus is about to die but somehow manages to travel back in time to the year of 1942 and has to cope with the fact that he might never see his friends again and that he still has to go to school for some reason. Well the latter is probably because he’s in his 15 year old body but oh well-

I’m bad at summary’s so yea read with caution this has mentions of blood, gore, family issues, suicide and prolly a bit of suicidal idealization? Just don't read this if you don’t feel ok even though most of the themes are probably not gonna be heavy hitting.

Chapter 1: Death

Absolute darkness is what I see.

 

Past, future, and me.

 

All black.

 

How could you?

 

You told me we’d get out together.

 

Maybe I had it coming for trusting the word of an eight-year-old version of you.

 

Maybe I should’ve known that the bond between us, as fractured and shaky as it was after your first year there, would be cut by the time the sorting hat announced what everyone knew was coming. Me. 

 

But why was it so easy to believe?

 

Why did I think you’d stay true to a promise you probably already forgot.

 

I’m always gonna be the spare anyways. The spare heir, the spare thought, the spare reminder that you in fact DO have a biological brother, thank you very much.

 

Maybe you even wanted to forget it. Take it back.

 

You who's the black sheep in this foul herd... Wait, no, that doesn’t seem right, now does it? You’re more like a lamb. You saw the good. You live with the good. You are good. We are not. This rotten family.

 

You push her buttons without caring about the collateral.

 

Maybe you used to care once.

 

Used to care for me.

 

Fuck. 

 

Why would I ever think that I had a chance of getting a place in your heart? You already have a brother in Gryffindor, glad that you don’t have to share a house with a snake like me. You already have a new family that won’t treat you like shit, but why the fuck didn’t you at least try to tell me? You knew that I’d never stop you from being free. Wait, no, you basically didn’t talk to me except for the times you were preaching how fucked up Slytherin and all of us baby death eaters are for what... six years? 

 

Well, the last part was in your second to last and last year, once you got tired of bullying Severus, or you just grew up, I guess. Would you look at that? It seems like you haven’t been as innocent as my mind has made you out to be. Of course you are a better person now, but you were not. Why am I even thinking this far? You probably didn’t even think about me without insulting me in the same thought.

I was always the second option for everyone.

 

The spare heir.

 

The spare brother.

 

The spare priority.

 

And even with the spare expectations set for me, I could never live up to any of them.

 

Not assertive enough to be a good replacement heir, not like you.

 

Not brave enough to be a good brother to you, unlike James.

 

Not important enough to be remembered, to have my death questioned.

 

I guess I was really just born to die.

 

And so Regulus Arcturus Black embraced death like an old friend.

 

Wait, why am I still conscious enough to think? Shouldn’t my lungs be filled with water by now? I can definitely feel the hands still on my body, their claws, nails, stained flesh, and blood, but... it hurts less. It’s almost ike I’m feeling every sensation through a cloth? Shouldn’t it hurt more the closer I get to death?

 

I mean, this is only my first time dying, but I’d assume that the sweet taste of relief would only come AFTER I’m dead and not while I am still able to feel the water flooding my lungs as the ice-cold chain slips slowly through my fingers.

 

HUH WAIT A MINUTE—

 

The cave was silent, that is, until a pale, bloody hand broke through the surface, a delicate silver chain dangling off the thenar space, before the hand balled up into a fist and started thrashing around.

 

Seconds later, a head emerged from the water. 

 

Regulus was gasping and coughing for air, for life, as he was flailing his arms and legs, trying to move towards the little island in the middle of the cave as well as he could. His limbs were spasming, and he was losing feeling in most of his body parts from the hypothermia piercing his bones and blood loss, but he couldn’t stop. He had to survive. He did not just manage to get away from the inferi long enough to hold the locket within reach of his friends hands, that could change the tides of war so drastically that could change history, save thousands of lives and stop all of those brainwashed little snot faces from following that manipulative fuck of a halfblood. 

At least until Kreacher managed to snatch the horcrux and get away from there.

 

Regulus was slowly advancing towards the shore, when no one released him of the ice cold sensation of the chain, barely managing to hold his head above water, gulping down any water that could’ve had a chance to choke him. He felt his strength waning but knew that if he didn’t at least get the locket to the island, then it would’ve all been for naught, and that simply wouldn’t do.

 

Tom Riddle would not let this disobedience go unpunished, and who would he use as an example if the one doing the misdeed was already dead?

 

His parents? No, Orion died a few months ago, and his mother was on her death bed; neither of those would work, so Tom would go for the thing known to be closest to his heart. 

 

He would never let Kreacher be exposed to such danger again.

 

Wait, would that even make sense? Would Tom Riddle use a mere house elf as an example to his loyal followers…His brother then? But everyone knows that Sirius worships the light and it would be more of a morality boost to the followers, rather than the intended warning…

Regulus gasped as he realized, he can die. Not because he hates himself and wishes he could’ve at least made someone more happy than miserable, but because he has nothing really to loose. Everything he cares about is either dead, dying, or not his to care about or completely safe even. He started to cackle and cough as he got more and more of the cold water in his mouth.

 

The hand pressing down on the rocks of the little island to gain some sort of leverage to heave himself out of the water, or as much as he could with his shaking, ripped open arms, made a shrill grinding noise, which would’ve made Regulus shiver in disgust if his ears weren’t having the time of their life’s with all of the sea water sloshing around there with his blood.

 

 He flopped onto the white rocks, staining them with blood, the locket’s chain still in the steel grip of his right hand.

"Fuck,"  Regulus groaned, staring at the spot where Kreacher used to be a minute ago. A minute? No wait, it couldn’t have been only a minute since the inferi grabbed him from his crouching position when he tried to get any water into his system, still convulsing from the aftershocks of the green potion.

If it hadn’t been a minute ago, though... Then how much time has passed? 

And where is Kreacher?

Regulus shoved a shaking hand into the partially ripped inside pocket of his cloak, willing his stubby, stiff fingers to close around a piece of broken wood. “This will have to do-“the wand exploded. He sighed and concentrated on the tempus spell.

The only thing good about a baby death eater training in a rotten pure bred family is that one can try to do powerful wordless spells over and over again until you can do them flawlessly, all while being underage. And hey, he doesn’t wanna brag at a time when he’s literally bleeding to death BUT let’s just say there’s a reason as to why he got the dark mark at 16 years old.

 

Regulus blinked at the time and date that appeared in front of his face, let his face face kiss the ground harder than the fourth year quidditch players kiss their partners after winning their first game, breathed in. One, two, three times. And started screaming bloody murder for two minutes exactly, then stopped, heaved himself up again and cast tempus again. Just to be sure.

 

07:07–27. 10.1942

Chapter 2: The woods turn into the streets of Diagon alley

Notes:

Guys just so yk english is not my first language so any typos and weird grammar might be bc of that. Also, please don't be mean, if you don’t like the ship AVOID this fic pls(just to be sure that this is obvious).

Apparently dying is way harder than just going on a suicide mission and hoping that the part of suicide comes faster than the mission.

Shockers.

It’s been a few days ever since Regulus somehow time traveled without a time-turner, or, without a time-turner he could find yet. And even though he found himself in his, estimated fifteen or maybe sixteen year old body, he was relieved to find out that his magic was still his, and so was his animagus form.

 

After casting some healing spells on himself and hanging that cursed locket around his neck he morphed into a small crow, not as tall as his former animagus form, but he managed to deal with it and fly out of the cave and into a nearby forest and not going any closer to that weird house nearby.

 During those days he’s been emptying his pockets, looking over all of his possessions in case he might be able to make sense of it all, lying on the ground contemplating life and flying around eating some seeds and the common worm once in a while. 

At least he could imagine that it was all just a dream And that he’d wake up to Pandora sticking a bertie botts bean with worm flavour in his mouth as he’s sleeping and Barty cackling alongside Evan in the background as Dorcas is sighing and going out of the dorm to not have to hear Regulus chasing the other three around the room.

Instead he got hit with the miserable reality of his situation and the question on how it even could’ve happened.

He was pretty sure that his only three options of something close to an explanation would be: 

1. He, or Kreacher somehow packed a time-turner into one of this cloak pockets, which got torn apart and spun until he reached the year 1942, OR
2. Barty cast a spell on him after he joined the death eaters in case he gets hurt before Barty and Evan could go on missions and that somehow backfired, or…
3. Kreacher’s house elf magic somehow managed to turn back time??

 

Of course all three options sound ridiculous, but that’s all he has got as of right now.

 

He sighs as he turns back into his human form after he stole a nut from a squirrel and breaks the shell with his heel. He hums in thought as he eats half of the nut. If he were to die again, if he ever even died a first time, would he be thrown back even farther? And why this specific time period?

 

Would he be thrown back to the war going on before the one with Grindelwald and Dumbledore? Was that the curse-or spell Barty came up with? To war-travel? Sounds enough like him, but Regulus doubts that Barty would do such a thing without wanting to boast about it, so no.

Regulus groans as he lets the rest of the nut fall at the bottom of the tree where he stole it from the squirrel.

 

 

“Ok Archie, get your shit together”, he growled as he hit his head recalling all of the historic events happening around this time as he transfigured more of the autumn leafs into bandages and took care of his wounds.

 

“I should probably go to Gringotts first and change my name there, there’s no way I’ll walk around this time in history and pass as an illegitimate child of the blacks without getting smacked at best.”

 

Regulus is happy to be the disappointment at times like these. If he weren’t one then he would’ve probably been asked *cough*pressured*cough* to step in as the Black’s metamorphmagus showcase, especially after Andromeda left.

 

But it doesn’t matter now, does it? His chances of going back to his time without knowing the cause of his time travel is near impossible so he’s stuck here for the foreseeable future. 

But hey, at least he wont have to drink some Polyjuice just to not get suspicious glances in the wizarding world. Be it because he looked like a spitting image of his mother, who is supposed to be in school as of right now, or because of the claw marks from the inferi that start from the outer edge of his eyes and end near his ear, like grotesque crows feet that are unnecessarily difficult to bandage without blinding oneself. 

 

“Heh crows feet…hehehe”, okay maybe he was going a little bit insane. He would rather kill himself though than ever tell anyone how he was acting only what, three? Four? Days into being flung to another time period.

——

The streets are bustling with people, eyes wide with fear and hushed voices conversing, makings sure their opinions stay between each other and only each other. 

 

“This is even  more depressing than my room last time I’ve been there”, Regulus thought as he walked the streets of Diagon Alley. 

 

He tried to go with an inconspicuous look. Brown hair, green eyes, a few centimeters shorter than his actual height and some transfigured robes that looked like they’ve been worn before. 

 

So, he was at least sure that no one would look at him weird for his similarities to the Black family. He, of course, also made sure to make all of his visible scars disappear because he would rather not have to deal with any of the drama coming with that especially in times like there where people choose sides and are torn apart by values.

 

Of course he had it easier because he knew the future and how everything would turn out and of Grindelwald’s fall but the mood of the usually joyous alley still got to him.

Regulus took long and purposeful strides towards one of the Gringotts goblins after entering the foyer.

 

“I would like to get to my vault key via blood, I’ve lost the key”, he stated. Regulus really hoped that that would work, since he never had any business in Gringotts before. His parents would always have the money on hand. They would’ve shown him how to do all of the financing once he turned of age but of course that never happened. Welp, Regulus guessed it could’ve been worse, sine he at least likes reading up on stuff, especially if he can get himself to be interested in whatever he was researching.

 

The goblin in front of him just grunted and mumbled something about stupid forgetful wizards and pulled a few sheets of paper from underneath the counter, held them in one hand as he held the other out for the teen. 

 

“Hand”, he droned. Regulus nodded and stretched his hand out.

 

Sliceee

 

Regulus breathed through it. That was quite a shallow cut. He’s had worse.

Worse being a few years of consensual crucio and a little bit of imperio training with his friends in the Slytherin dorms.

 

“Can we get a private room to discuss the results of this?”, Regulus asked. The goblin simply nodded and jumped off of the stool he sat in and walked towards one of the walls, brushing his hand against it. The wall seemed to move for a few seconds, vibrating in an arch over two grown men tall. Then, suddenly an arched door materialized before them   

 

“Follow me”, said the smaller one as he opened the door, whose knob was right in front of him.

 

Regulus just nodded and fell into step behind the Goblin, looking around, hearing every conversation close by, consciously on edge. Heart pounding at the thought of anyone figuring out who he is. Always checking in on his magic flow, making sure that his morphed form stayed consistent. 

 

He thought of all the stuff he needs to secure to be able to live comfortably for three years, worst case scenario five years to get a stable job maybe if he doesn’t figure out how to get back to his own timeline before that, as he walked though the dark, gothic hallway.

Regulus sighed. 

 

This is going to be a long meeting.

Chapter 3: Fuck it, we ball

Holy shit Regulus really wished he would’ve died in that rotten cave.

 

If he had he wouldn’t have had to listen to all of that talking and TALKING. He was so close to telling the goblin off, because all of the information the smaller one had told him could’ve been reduced to a few sentences:

 

The workers here don’t care if you’re a time traveler, an evil overlord or just a random frog as long as you can access your vault and give them money. -No wonder cousin Bella managed to put that cursed thing in her vault, they just don’t seem to care at all.-

 

Regulus CAN open up a new vault which is connected to the main vault of the Blacks but if he wanted to transfer more than two hundred galleons a month they would have to write the head of the family and inform them of the money being spent and who it belongs to. -Regulus guessed it could’ve been worse.-

 

If Regulus wants to change the name that gets listed when he does blood tests he would have to find someone who will agree to be his secret keeper for a fideluis charm. -Regulus thought about asking the goblin (his name was apparently Gornuk) right there and then to be his secret keeper though he would wait it out for one or two days. Even though he knew that goblins lips are practically sealed shut as long as there’s a contract, he would need time to write it all down and not forget anything.-

 

So he managed to achieve absolutely nothing except gain a little bit of knowledge. Yay.

 

Regulus sighed as he walked out of Gringotts with a few papers in his hand a quill and a glass of ink he was allowed to borrow from Gornuk. He should probably go to a cafè nearby or something to get an even writing surface. With that plan in mind he went off to see if one of his favorite cozy bakeries was already established 1942 or not.

—

 

It has, in fact, not even been built. 

 

What luck he has.

 

He groaned and kept on walking down the street, hoping, praying that no one saw him just stare at empty space disappointedly for a few seconds too long. He knew that there was going to be a lot of differences between his timeline and this one but it never really sunk in for him up until that moment.

 

Would he die if he were change anything that happened in his reality, or would all of his friends die? He didn’t have enough information to be able to avoid meeting his parents, what if they just appeared around the corner? Would he set off a butterfly effect by looking them in the eyes? Has his whole existence set off a butterfly effect? Suddenly, he froze. Is this some kind of alternate reality he jumped over to? Or a parallel reality? Honestly, both of those thoughts are equally terrifying. What of he never finds a way back to his friends, his home? What if he comes back just to find out everyone died because of his actions here? Worse even: what if he managed to help people here and ends up in his own reality not being able to help them anymore?

 

Regulus’ ears started to make a buzzing sound and his lungs filled up with water. Poison.

 

No.

 

Water.

 

No, Stop, you’re not in the cave.

 

Nails were scratching his back, cold cold cold hands with talons wrapped around his torso, his midriff, ripping his skin wide open, he sees red, his eyes, they hurt.

 

Regulus catches himself on a wall and trips into the nearest alley. The cold- no its more hard than cold, there’s something solid on his back. Bricks, they were not in the water. Bricks, he’s not in the water. He can breathe. He’s allowed to breathe.

 

Regulus is gasping and curled up on the floor with his back against the wall. He shook himself once he could breathe a little more regularly.

 

No splashing sounds, no drops hitting rubble and no blood staining any water.

 

His body slumped and he just sat there. Breathing.

 

Why was he even concerned about disappearing, dying?

 

Regulus started laughing.

 

No one knows him here, no one knew him before.

 

Yes, his friends knew him more than anyone but they were still separated in the end.

With most of of his friends being a few months older than him he was able to see what happened to them. Barty went insane and did all of the fucked up stuff with glee. When Regulus asked him in private if he was just putting up a facade or if he really enjoyed it, he just smiled and asked what the big deal was. That was not his Barty. Evan started to distance himself after he got the dark mark, never talking about how he felt and avoiding any indication that he was more than a death eater, a murderer, of feeling bad for anything he did. Dorcas, being a year older than them just cut all contact the moment she graduated, its not like there was much contact to cut though, after he got the dark mark. Pandora was the only one who didn’t change too much, who still cared, but she was now eloped to the love of her life and had a lot more responsibilities to think of and would probably live a long and healthy life with her husband and maybe even kid. So even if he dies she would have time to get over his death. 

 

No matter how he saw it, no matter what side won in the war his timeline had, at least half of his friend group -or what’s left of them in their heart- would die. Either metaphorically or literally.

 

His laughter died down to a snicker.

 

It doesn’t matter if he were to fuck up everything in this timeline. It would change nothing and if he does something to change his own timeline it was probably going to be better than what is hanging above the only people he cared heads. He might even be able to make sure that his parents never got to abuse his older brother, or whatever child they would get here.

 

He stood up abruptly, veins pumping with new motivation. He might die, but fuck it. He died once, it can’t get worse than that.

Chapter 4: A new me (nah I’m still the same)

Summary:

Reggie tries some exposure therapy with his new identity :D or is it a way to not forget his past? Hmmmmm

Okay, Regulus has to admit, he now understands what his mother meant when she said the quality of tea got worse over time.

 

The cup of tumeric, ginger and lemon grass tea in front of him was steaming and all of it’s calming smell just wafted into his nose. Heavenly. Regulus kept sipping on his tea in the small bakery restaurant every once in a while while writing down his terms for the fidelius charm. 

 

He hadn’t heard of people’s identities ever being under a fidelius charm, but just to be sure, he wrote down his own name down on a piece of paper, which he stuck into the pocket of his cloak. He didn’t want to forget everything, including his name, if he really wanted to make a change. And if he is doomed to never see his friends again because he messed with this timeline, then he would rather keep their memory alive, at least.

 

He sighed as he set his quill aside and shook his hands to relax them after he wrote down everything he wanted changed in his identity and after signing it. With his real name of course, since his new, fake one doesn’t count for legal documents yet.

 

The sun was slowly setting, birds were chirping and even less people were talking. Wide eyes left, rushing home through the floo of restaurant or shops while others left through the walls or disappeared into alleys.

 

Regulus gulped down the rest of his tea quickly and stacked the papers into a pile, made sure the quill was safe and that no ink would spill from the small vial. The clouds are dark on the red backdrop of the sunset almost made it look like the whole sky was ablaze.

 

It was so quiet.

 

Regulus realized that there are no more voices in his head. No mother that made him doubt himself.

 

No father who needs to make sure that he should’ve raised Regulus better, and now he got to sow what he reaped.

 

No older brother that makes sure Regulus knows how shitty his housemates are and how he was just like their parents.

 

No Barty there because he needs to figure out where the horcrux is and he needs to focus, to connect the dots.

 

No Pandora to remind him to drink once in a while- as if he hadn’t drunk enough for a lifetime-.

 

No Dorcas to remind him to just keep on going, to push himself.

 

No Evan to hum some tune he made up with his calm serene voice.

 

And most definitely no looming dread, no cold, snake like voice and piercing dark, sometimes even red eyes that promise a world of hurt if he dares to think of anything aside from the missions the dark lord gives him.

 

Regulus finally had time and space to just… not having to think about anything and just…exist.

 

He breathed in and out, relying on his subconscious self to guide him towards Gringotts, while he got to just breathe and enjoy life for a second.

 

Luckily he managed to end up close to the bank when he snapped back to reality. He hummed, walked in, and went towards Gornuk’s desk.

 

“I’ve got all the documentation and would like to ask you, Mr. Gornuk, to be my secret keeper”, Regulus kept his tone flat and as unassuming as he could. The goblin nodded and stepped away from his desk. “Follow me”, he droned once again, just like a few hours prior.

 

They went through the same door as before and sat down at the table in the office at the end of the dark hallway. Gornuk read through all of his conditions and nodded.

 

“Alright, we already set up you new Vault and deposited the first sum of two hundred galleons, just like you asked. Here’s your vault key, make sure to not loose it, if you do we’ll keep your vault.” Regulus was unsure if he was joking or not but he sure hoped that he would never loose the key. “I will also only be able to erase your existence On official forums, if you decide to write your name down for any legal documents you would have to change your signature to fit the new one, do you understand?” The taller one nodded in agreement, as if he hadn’t thought about that, he still wanted to be polite. The goblin wrote something down on a piece of paper and put it aside. “Just for the other workers to know what your new name will be, since you didn’t say what you’ll be known as from now on a few hours Ago.“

 

The goblin looked him up and down, scrutinizing him, making sure that he’s most definitely sure of what he’s about to do. After Gornuk wasn’t able to see any hesitation he sighed and signed the papers and stood up. “All right, stand in the middle of the room, please”, he told Regulus.

 

Regulus did as told and just breathed in and out, relaxing. This is going to be a new start for him, he’s not going to be Regulus Black anymore, he can be whoever he wants to be now and live a life he’s never got to live before. He gulped as the older one started to chant something under his breath.

 

He’ll be known as Blake Zwezdochka, if anyone were to ever ask. Blake, an old Scottish and English name coming from the old word for anyone dark haired derived from the word black. Zwezdochka, meaning little star, or used as just a diminutive of  star. He thought it was hilarious.

 

 All that to make his backstory believable, his mother was an English woman who got enamoured with a student of durmstrang who came to England for a school event. After they both reached legal marrying age they officially got together and have been traveling from country to country ever since. Both of his parents died during their travels and left him alone at the ripe age of sixteen, which is why his education wasn’t documented anywhere, because he was homeschooled. All of that would make sure that he has a reason to know as many languages as he does, know wandless magic -which he would need to limit if he’s in crowded places as well as his wordless magic, well he only knows the second one with a wand as of right now, since he was going to learn some wandless and wordless magic alongside Evan in one of their “meetings”, or… well… He was supposed to meet up with Evan and hang out together over the summer holidays, keep each other sane as both of them had to become heirs.-

 

Oh well, hey one good thing came out of it though, he at least read up on wandless and wordless magic which he now had plenty time to master, and he hoped that enough jobs would at least consider him if he managed to both at the same time. 

 

So Regulus was pretty sure he was set for the future. He had enough money to buy himself food, he could live as a crow in the woods until he had enough money to buy a place and he could go and redo the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s at some point at the ministry or somewhere else.

 

A warmth spread from his heart to his core, his lungs, his legs, his arms and finally his head. His whole body started to melt, or at least it felt like it. His head was the only thing that just kept its warmth and didn’t make him break into a sweat.

 

It took him a while to figure out that the chanting had stopped. Regulus opened his eyes.

 

“Mister Zwezdochka, do you want to sign the documents you gave me as your new identity or old one?”

 

Hazel eyes flickered to Gornuk the tiny azure flecks shaking slightly as they position themselves where they’re supposed to be, for the foreseeable future.

 

Freckles that cascade from the outer corner of his eye to to his ears, almost like a waterfall of tears just dripping in opposite directions.

 

Pale hands decorated with freckles that give the impression of claws going down his arms rose up to accept the quill.

 

Thick black locks just barely brush his neck while the white tips of the front part of his hair hug his face as he leans over the small table with his original height back.

 

“The new one should do”, Regulus muttered as he put ink on parchment, letters looping into the Name he will have to tell everyone else.

 

No more Regulus.

 

No more Reggie.

 

No more Archie.

 

He’s Blake now, at least to those people. Never to himself, never to the people he cares for most.

 

Chapter 5: Cherry is the new Cypress

Regulus was really questioning this whole timeline at this point.

 

How was he supposed to get a new wand, if his future self was supposed to get it?

 

Did he actually get thrown into an alternate universe or a parallel universe? And not just get thrown back in time?

 

He kind of hoped to get his old -now probably freshly made- wand again, but would that mean his eleven year old self would’ve never gotten it?

 

Welp, he figured that if he actually DID get his old wand he’d be right about focusing on his own life since he just would’ve gotten a confirmation that his original timeline was gone for good and if he got a new one he’d also just do whatever he wants since it wouldn’t change anything in the future, since he,ya know, lived it!

 

Regulus stared at the sky as he walked towards Ollivanders. It was already quite dark outside, the street lamps were lit when he got out of Gringotts. His pocket was filled with around twenty galleons, some he still had left from the afternoon, when he had flown around and picked up some galleons and knuts as a crow, the rest was just some money he grabbed from his new vault a few minutes ago.

 

The doorbell rang loudly as Regulus stepped foot inside of the wand store.

 

“Hello! Mmmhh yes I knew you were coming”, yelled a chipper voice “oh wait you’re not- hmmm weird I thought someone else would come, hmmmmm but who was it..”, the old man murmured as he rushed out from between the shelves. “Does it matter?” Regulus raised an eyebrow. “Hmmm I guess not”, Ollivander shrugged as he nodded thoughtfully.

 

“You seem old enough though to have a wand already?” Said the older while skipping between the shelves. “I don’t remember making you one though…”

 

“Yea, no, I used a wand passed down by my father up until recently, though I’ve broken that one, sadly”, Regulus partially lied through his teeth, his lips pulled into a polite smile. “Anyhow, I would like to ask for a new one, though I do not know what my former wand was made of.”

 

That’s just blatant bullshit, Regulus still remembers the day Ollivander handed him a cypress wand with a dragon heartstring as a core, what he had whispered into the small child’s ears, to not make Walburga stomp on his happiness, still ringing in his head today. 

 

“A cypress wand! A wand known for it’s nobility and reliability”, he had yelled happily, making sure Regulus’ mother heard, “the core of a dragon heartstring, a very strong core, bonding to powerful wizards”, he continued as he leaned down to take the wand out of little Regulus’ hands. “It was an honor to give you this wand, it’ll follow you loyally to your heroic end”, breathed the older man before retreating with a blinding smile towards the bitter woman. Regulus was tuning out his mothers proud glance, his ears were buzzing and breath shortening. He was going to be heroic. For the first time its not just Sirius believing in him. He even said that he’s honored to give him his wand, and Regulus knew he didn’t just say that to get into hies mothers good graces. 

 

“Yea a heroic death my ass”, Regulus thought, scoffing internally. “I died a cowards, a madman’s death, some would even say a suicidal guy’s death. Heroic? As if.” If Regulus could roll his eyes without being rude to the second guy to believe in him, he would, but he still has manners, thank you very much.

 

Regulus jumped a little as the wandmaker shoved an open wand box into his chest before he backed up some centimeters, waiting to see if the wand is compatible with him. The teens hands take out the wand when suddenly, it gets snatched away.

 

“Oh no no no, not this one, too soft.” Regulus had hoped that he’d get this over with quickly.

 

—

 

After three broken windows, most of the candles getting replaced by flowers and one or the other shelf catching on fire, they almost ran out of options, at least if Regulus were to guess from all of the rambling on Ollivanders part. 

 

“This, this has it just HAS to be it. Anything else doesn’t make sense, I can’t think of anything else”, muttered the older wizard. 

 

Regulus sighed as he took the wand into his hand, his fingers barely touching the wood as the air around him starts to smell like a winter’s breeze, a wet dog and Kreachers cooking, multiple black feathers fluttered down from above him like flowers in his favorite paintings. Regulus was awestruck, his wand didn’t do that the first time around.

 

“Ah yes”, interrupted a happy voice ”of course the cherry tree wood, lethal, you must have some impressive strength of mind for this wand to choose you, 10.5 inches, just average kind of bendy, maybe on the more flexible side considering the other cherry wands I have here, anddddd a dragon heartstring core, that would be seven galleons please.” Regulus nods and pulls seven coins out of his cloak pocket. A shadow falls over him just as he was about to put it in the old mans hand. “Please, do watch out, the wood along with this core could bear devastating results if you’re not in control of yourself. Know what you want, young man.” The man then backed off with a smile. “Thank you for your purchase.” 

 

Regulus just muttered a quick thank you and speed walked out of there.

 

The cherry wood probably chose him, not because he himself is strong but because his sixteen year old body still possesses his magic from his original timeline, well his whole body was the same except for the few centimeters he was shorter a few months ago. Does Ollivander think that someone with a lot of self control would throw himself into the first option of dying that aligns with his moral code and might help his friends in the long run? Circe no, but at least he knows the basics to wordless, wandless magic, he’ll just have to deal with this wand until he gets the hang of it.

 

The streets were empty as he strode out of the store, sighing he walked into an alley and transformed into his animagus form, flying out of Diagon Alley, having a wand whose only similarity was it’s core.

Notes:

I’ll prolly post it a lot less bc of holidays and stuff but I’ll try to post at least every week once :D

Chapter 6: Mmm Dirt… Yum

Regulus really wished he would’ve died in that cave.

 

Actually, he did try to fly back into the cave, which he managed to do without any troubles. It seems that Riddle only made the security (aka death traps) in his later years. He’s also pretty sure that the goblet his crazy cousin bragged about was the one Helga Hufflepuff owned, which would mean that both the sword of Griffindoor and Ravenclaw’s diadem were options for other horcruxes. Regulus was certain that the dark lord made more than one, who’s surprised, really, if you looked less human than most of the magical beasts in wizard society…

 

Regulus clutches the locket tightly in his hand. This wasn’t even the reason to his anger. The unopened letter from a very specific school was the reason to his conflicted feelings.

 

Well, at least they got the name right and knew that he lived in the woods, if it was truly a person writing the address on those letters, so he would be probably excused on his not so eloquent wardrobe. Even though every single instinct inside of him, even his crow, told him to just transfigure some leaves into something prettier, something more impressive. He on the other hand made sure to suppress every habit his parents knew noble little pure bloods would need.

 

He’s a halfblood now, a half-blood from traveling, most definitely definitely not pure-blood parents. 

 

Regulus broke the familiar sigil, sent to a not so familiar name, opening the letter and pulling the carefully folded parchment out.

 

—

 

Dear Mr Zwezdochka,

 

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to attend the fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

You will be called into school ahead of time on the 21. December for the second term of the fifth year, since we do not know how well you’ll be able to adapt to our schools curriculum, we should also see to it that your housing shall be decided as soon as possible.

The second term is planned to officially start on the 11. January, your peers arriving on the 9. January .We await your owl by no later than 20. December.

 

Yours sincerely,

Headmaster Armando Dippet

 

—

 

Throwing himself off a cliff sounded way more reasonable now- wait no.

 

Regulus realized, gasping, that he could find at the very least one of the future horcruxes in hogwarts! They were probably the first ones that the baby dark lord even made. Regulus would’ve jumped out of joy, if he wasn’t tired like a sphinx since pulled an all-nighter the day before, trying to figure out how to destroy the smaller version of the man whose actions would be detrimental to not just the wizarding world but also life as they know it.

 

At least he could purchase parchment now so he was able to write down everything he could in his looped handwriting, and just to make his own life harder he wrote everything down in the language that his twelve year old friend group came up with.

 

All in all it looked like he somehow managed to throw a pot of ink on parchment paper and managed to make the edges of the stain look pretty.

 

Anyhow, he had bigger fish to fry now. Namely an acceptance letter to answer and making his clothes look just as presentable as one would think if they were sending a letter for someone in the woods.

 

A little dirty.

 

At least Sirius seemed to have fun rolling in the mud and getting all dirty and even told him that its fun. Of course that was when both of them were eight and seven and Regulus was too scared of his parents to even think of doing it, but if Sirius liked it, then it couldn’t be too bad, right?

 

——

 

Regulus is never ever going to believe the massive amount of Merlins balls Sirius said. EVER again.

 

Just a day before he was supposed to arrive at King’s Cross station Regulus put on his oldest transfigured robes and threw himself down a small hill in the woods, stood up at the foot of the hill and jumped again. And again. And again. And again. He actually didn’t have to go through with it as long as he did, but he tried to see his older brothers point.

 

He really tried to find any sort of amusement in the act.

 

He really did.

 

There was none.

 

Even when he tried to throw himself into the dirt like he used to throw himself off his broom, he couldn’t feel the same thrill as he used to, before he kissed the ground with his face. Hard.

 

After he got his clothes dirty enough he threw them off of his body, used a mild cleaning spell, a few more on his own body, and put the clothes back on.

 

He hated being dirty. The only time he thought that being dirty would not annoy him in the long run would be if he was either overly stressed or in a panic attack and his crow instincts could not care less which usually sends them ringing in his ears too much to feel any uncomfortable texture on his skin; if he was dying; if he had to catch a snitch or if he had a meeting with a very important person he had to convince that he, an underage wizard, had been living in a forest for almost two months now.

 

Honestly, he was quite lucky that the cave had enough magical traces to cover up his underage spellwork in the area. No wonder that that halfblood pureblood wannabe put all of the inferi in there. No one would even guess that something changed in a desolate and already slightly magical area. The aurors have most likely not even been informed that there had been a magical spike in this almost completely isolated place back in his timeline, or the heaps of inferi wouldn’t have been there, tearing his skin apart.

 

Regulus was putting all of his transfigured essentials and the few things he actually bought through his new vault money in a small trunk, which he had bought second hand and thrown down the same hill he rolled down, when he suddenly realized…

 

No one had any expectations of him. And that was not a bad thing for once. He was not fated to be looked down upon by his parents for being Sirius’ weaker replacement, Merlin, his brother wasn’t even alive at this point in time! Not only that… no one at school would know his parents, since Blakes parents were literal nobodies to the point where not even Binns could recall his mother, if anyone from the faculty were to snoop through his past.

 

Regulus was free, aside from the inexplicable constant dread of meeting his parents’ baby versions, the pressure of there being a chance that he would never see the people he ever cared about in anything else but his dreams which is also another burden on him to do better… for them… yea he does not feel well at all.

 

But at least he can do that -what did Pandora call it again- expansure- no exposure therapy, yea thats it- At least he can do some exposure therapy without the threat of his life falling to shambles, since it already hit an all time low. Now, the thing he’ll expose himself to is, he thought intensely for a moment, then he decided that he was going to expose himself emotionally to not giving a flaying shit about disappointing anyone anymore. Sounds like a possible first step on his journey of self-improvement.

 

Regulus thought it genius, to get rid of, or at least weaken, the one weakness that made his life a living hell. He knew that there was no logical reason as to why he should even be able to disappoint anyone in this timeline or dimension, but something like that is deeply rooted into his mind, and he knew that. Always had known that. 

 

Now even if he did manage to disappoint someone he might slightly care about, for example, Professor Slughorn for not being able to perform as well in potions as hoped, he could just tell his inner self that it was not Regulus Arcturus Black he was disappointed at, but Blake Zwezdochka.

 

Regulus nodded to himself as he jotted that down in his mind alongside his other goals for this timelines future.

 

1. Destroy all horcruxes before they’re even made.

2. Kill teenage version of the dark lord before he can get to power.

3. Avoid anyone he might know, aka: his parents (generally any parents of his friends since he is pretty sure that he would start fighting them on the spot and using all the hexes and spells they used on his friends), and Dumbledore.

4. Know how to use wandless and wordless magic at the same time before the Christmas holidays are over.

4. Get better, psychologically, he can’t become like either of his parents in the future, never. He would rather kill himself.

5. Plan a quiet and quick death is any of the former mentioned points are somehow unable to be achieved.

 

Regulus nodded to himself, bound part of his trunk to the belt loops on his trousers, Transformed into a crow and took off. 

 

To King’s Cross station.

 

Chapter 7: From shitty weather to shitty reception, Regulus has got it all!

 

Regulus might freeze to death at this rate solely because he underestimated the winter weather without any heating spells on his body.

 

The icy winter breeze brushed though his feathers as Regulus swooped into an alley near King’s Cross. His feet hit the ground as the last of his feathers vanished. 

 

“They are so lucky that I actually know how to get to the right platform, couldn’t they have some sort of guard for the entrance or someone that looks like they should work here to maybe cast some illusion magic at a time like this. Really, Hogwarts might be the safest place out there but the moment you get out of the Hogwarts Express and do not have a house elf to apparate you immediately after stepping out, you will be burned at the stake, most definitely.

 

I mean, muggles can be dumb if us wizards managed to exist for so long without them suspecting too much, but they are not THAT dumb to think it normal when multiple children and their parents run out of a solid brick wall”, Regulus ranted internally, pointedly ignoring all noise around him as he walked through the the wall and kept on walking, pushing through parents until he was sure that he was close to where the end of the train should be and stopped, leaned against the wall and waited.

 

 

He looked around, seeing parents checking the time over and over, murmuring between each other and some even cried -if out of happiness or sadness, Regulus couldn’t figure out- there were even some kids, clinging to their parents pants and whispering in excitement.

 

Regulus shifted more into the shadows, not wanting to stand out like a sore thumb. This is going to take a while.

 

——

 

The moment the doors to the train opened he took several steps back. The children practically threw themselves out of there and into their parents arms, at least they did so at the last few doors of the train. 

 

Regulus shoved his way into the train after the first flood of kids emerged from the Hogwarts Express, the more chaos there is the less of a chance there is for people to question a teenager well over the age of eleven with no house color on his uniform stepping onto the train.

 

He kept his head low and strode into the closest compartment to the exit he walked in through. Of course it was empty, kids never change. He slumped into the seats shifted around until he was laying on his back, legs up against the wall and head upside down over the edge of the seats and pulled his wand out, looking at it. 

 

He felt content to sit like he used to for the past few years after the age of twelve and this time he couldn’t care less if anyone he knew aside from his friends walked past his compartment and saw him. 

 

He twisted the wand in his hand, over and over again. He managed to practice some basic spellwork wordlessly without a wand, though he was cautious enough to not try more of the riskier spells, or the more powerful ones. The cave might’ve had enough magic traces for him to be able to do a lot of small healing spells over multiple days and maybe a few transfigurations here and there, but most definitely not for practicing a patronus, or some of the saver, not so powerful fiendfyre variations Barty and him tinkered with.

 

The handle on his wand was engraved, not only with cherry petals and flowers, but also with multiple runes. He figured that those were there to make sure that whatever child got it would read those and maybe subconsciously believe them after enough time.

 

It would make a lot of sense that way to engrave the runes for “security”, “trust”, “luck” and others of the sort if this was really as dangerous of a wand as Ollivander had said. Regulus wondered every once in a while whose wand he stole, or if that wand would’ve just laid there in the wand shop, never to be picked up.

 

He was actually quite happy, elated even. Regulus never felt like his old wand ever made his heart beat like this one. His cypress wand made him feel nostalgic, this new wand was longer than the other wand and quite a bit thinner. His old wand handle used to be an actual thing he could grab, now it is almost blending into the rest of the wand, just a small perfectly cut edge is separating them.

 

Regulus rolled around and shifted until he was sitting crisscross and pulled out some parchment out of his trunk on the ground and a quill and started to jot down any places he has to look once he get to hogwarts to find any trace of the other possible horcruxes, while the only future horcrux he got his hands on was secured around his waist, the pendant itself being shoved into the side of his pants. He just wanted to make sure that no one would see the silvery chain or the unnatural bulge in the middle of his chest region. That’s why he wore the cloak all of the time, he shivered as he realized how much he must look like Snape.

 

Merlin no.

 

He had to find a better way to conceal the locket but still keep it close to himself.

 

Regulus sighed, at least he has a lot of time to find a way to securely hide the locket until the train halts. Or, well, make it invisible. Either option sounds good.

 

———

 

Regulus, in fact, did not find a way to permanently make the locket invisible or come up with anything else when he heard the horn of the train. 

 

He grumbled some less than savory words and shoved the parchment along side his quill and closed ink bottle into his truck and stood up, the sun already rising.

 

Luckily he did not need to walk far to get out of his compartment and managed to exit the train in less than five steps. Regulus tried to blink the tiredness out of his eyes and yawned as he stepped onto Hogwarts’ grounds after gods know how long.

 

His parents pulled him out of school before he was able to finish his last year, since they thought it unnecessary since he already finished his O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. He managed to only hold them off for so long but had to go, they were his legal guardians and he was not of age yet.

 

He looked up at the familiar castle, home of happiness and also so, SO much pain and prejudice. Regulus took a deep breath and shoved both Sirius’ and Bellatrix’ voices to the back of his head, trapping them in a thought bottle with some occlumency. 

 

He took a step forward, ready to face the former principal he only knew from portraits.

 

“There goes noth-“

 

“Are you Blake Zwezdochka?”

 

If the ground could consider opening up for him and swallowing him whole, he would very much appreciate that.

 

Regulus jumped up and nearly stumbled backwards, eyes widening. How on Circe did that guy manage to sneak up on him? He knew he pulled too many all-nighters but this was getting ridiculous. His wand was out faster than his mind could comprehend and spells were flying without a second of hesitation. 

 

All of his spells were either blocked or countered after the first one zapped the man standing before him now.

 

“Oh goodness, you’re quite a jumpy one Mr. Zwezdochka, if you would just wait a minute and let me explain”, hurried the voice to get out before the next silent hex was flung at him. Regulus kept it at hexes and offensive spells at the moment to see if the man was going to reciprocate, he was in hogwarts after all. If he would pull up with curses immediately he’d be banned before he could even talk to the principal.

 

“How do you know my name?” Asking that felt like a lie. Regulus did it even know how weird it felt to hear people actually refer to him as his new name.

 

“Allow me to introduce myself”, the wizard in front of him dropped his wand, an old, traditional way to declare oneself not an enemy, or a looser of a duel.

 

Regulus knew it was meant to be the former, the man was far too skilled to loose to Regulus’ instinctual offensive spells minus the curses.

 

His blonde tips fluttered as he squinted his eyes. Something about the man in front of him reminded him of someone. Regulus looked him over, once, twice and blinked surprised.

 

“My name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore but you, my boy, can call me Professor Dumbledore. I’ll be your transfiguration teacher for the next two years”, he smiled. 

 

Regulus was this close to actually throwing his wand aside and punching the living daylights out of him.

 

Dumbledore was the principal in his timeline but would never actually care for any other child that did not show their unconditional trust and loyalty toward him. Of course he would pull up with a smile whenever any other child would talk to him but would he ever think about them for more than he had to? Of course not. Every Slytherin felt the fake niceness the moment they first talked to the old coat. No wonder that most of the people in his house started to make small dueling groups in the dorms.

 

To let out all of the anger, because Professor Slughorn was nice, don’t get him wrong, he was slimy but nice. Professor Slughorn used to ask any child if they are doing well whenever he saw them act weirdly. However, the moment rumors got out about anyone being a possible baby deatheater he just distanced himself. Still ready to help with all he can but anxious beyond compare. So a lot of emotional teenagers needed to find an outlet and that was small dueling clubs between friends.

 

Regulus thought to talk to Slughorn this time around. Everyone feared Voldemort back in his timeline but the potions master was on another level.

 

Regulus just kept on staring at the soon to be principal, head racing with plans, hand twitching to write them down. He raised an eyebrow at the older man, then nodded and stretched his hand out.

 

“R-right, pleasure to be meeting you, you’re right. I’m Blake Zwezdochka”, he needed to practice calling himself by his new name. 

 

“Follow me then”, said the wizard with a curious twinkle in his eyes.

 

Regulus hoisted his trunk on his hip, before he realized he could use magic freely now and used leviosa before he followed his future headmaster.

 

“Right.”

 

Chapter 8: A Dumb Door is Annoying and a Hat Overthinks

Murder was always an option, Regulus had to remind himself.

 

He was currently stuck on a boat with Dumbledore. All professors apparently agreed on giving him the first year experience and he never wanted to strangle someone and cry at the same time.

 

Regulus thought he had overcome the physical and emotional reaction whenever he came close to a still body of water, but he did not, as he just realized, hands clutching the sides of the little boat like a lifeline, using his coat to cover any weakness.

 

A soft tug on his mental walls informed him of the third time Professor Dumbledore had tried to wriggle his way inside of his head. Regulus guessed that something like that was the difference between the old man and the even older version of him. The one in front of him tried to smuggle himself inside of his head and might do so to every student. He probably just wanted to make sure that Regulus was no threat to the school.

 

The version of Dumbledore in the youngers original world was focusing on bigger things. On the war. Headmaster Dumbledore was someone who would see the kids as something to mold, not guide. It might’ve been because of the intense war, or maybe he grew detached from reality, others emotions, but the Dumbledore he grew up knowing had never been so persistent on figuring out what was going on in the children’s heads. Why though- Regulus blinked. “Oh gosh is it because I fired a few small offensive spells at him?? He’s lucky I didn’t bring out the big hitters”, his eyelid twitched as he continued to sit in uncomfortable silence.

 

Regulus liked to think of himself as a calm and composed individual, but in Barty’s words: “Bullshit, you only act like it but your brain is made out of pure pettiness and spite.” He would also like to say that he got most of his anger issues stemmed from having Barty barge into Evan’s and his dorm room at the dead of night and starting to yell, to which Evan too would usually wake up with too much energy and start yelling(they called it singing but it was yelling to Regulus, who had to play the violin since he was small and trained until he almost got perfect pitch) alongside Barty. 

 

With all that being said, Regulus was a little too close to shoving his soon to be professor into the lake when he felt the small flutter of the other wizards legilimency trying to sneak through his minds walls for the fourth time. Of course Dumbledore didn’t manage such a thing, if even the Dark Lord at his prime couldn’t, even though his thoughts were racing because of the horcrux for weeks before his not really death. Growing up with parents like Orion and Walburga seemed to have some perks, he thought sarcastically.

 

When a small breeze tried to twist through his walls for the fourth time he pushed back, packing all of his anger that has been boiling inside of him for the past few weeks, not before the “time travel”, into a storm cloud right as Dumbledore’s legilimency bounced off his walls.

 

Regulus was still staring at the almost still water beneath them, making sure no white hand would break the surface tension, but still he managed to feel the small flinch of the older at the sudden attack.

 

Regulus looked up, eyes trailing to his future headmaster. A smile,which he used to practice in the mirror until Sirius said it looked realistic, creeped on Regulus’ face.

 

“Are you well, professor Dumbledore?” The boat docked on the shore of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

 

“I’m very well, my boy”, came the terse answer.

 

Regulus’ smile seemed to soften, internally his laugh sounded much like his animagus form, laughing hysterically at the slightly wide confused eyes of the teacher.

 

“That’s good”, Regulus had to focus a bit to not let his voice shake from laugher.

 

“Follow me, please.”

 

Regulus’ face went back to his resting blank face and jumped out of the shaky boat and landed completely dry on hard ground. If he used his metamorphmagus abilities to momentarily hollow out his bones like the ones birds have to not ouch the water, it would be none of Dumbledores business to know, now would it.

 

Regulus was one step behind the elder while walking in the same tempo towards the familiar massive door.

 

A yawn was the only thing to be heard as they walked through the dark hallways. Being five in the morning and having pulled at least two all-nighters with no naps longer than five minutes, Regulus was able to resolutely say that he would rather just get everything over and done with.

 

“Excuse me, but where are we going?” Regulus obviously already knew where to. The great hall was right in front of him and the older wizard. 

 

“This, my boy, is what is known as the great hall. This is the place where you will be able to eat all of your daily meals and converse with your peers. You will be placed in one of the four houses, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. You will be guided by the head of your house to a fifth year dorm, since you just turned sixteen, alongside your classmates, a class schedule which will show your schedule for the next three weeks and will change into your second term schedule. If you have any other questions you can ask your Head of House”, concluded the professor opening up the doors and striding in.

 

Regulus nodded and walked in as well, head held high.

 

The great hall was empty aside from the teachers at the grand table in front of him. The principal stood up, a kind smile decorating his face as he spread out his arms.

 

“Welcome, Blake Zwezdochka, to Hogwarts”, his booming voice echoed throughout the halls. “Please, take a seat,”he gestured to the small chair that hosted millions if not billions of eleven year olds over hundreds of years,”just to get the hardest thing out of the way.”

 

Regulus had to process the new name usage again, beating himself internally but stepped up to the small chair and took a seat, seeing Dumbledore coming closer from the side, now with the sorting hat in hand. The hat was gently placed on his head, but unlike his first time around it did not slip over his eyes.

 

“Hmmm used to be a Slytherin I see, well, you sure seem like those years living in these dungeons really didn’t make you stray from the path I foresaw for you… Though your death is something interesting, did your Gryffindor brother actually have some influence on you or did you just do it to escape the guilt of all the lives you saw wash away and those who went willingly…”

 

“Well Merlin be cursed, you don't have to psycho analyze me. Ya didn't do it back then you don’t need to do it now.”

 

“That was because I knew that you would never reach the path I found for you, if you were to go anywhere else. I also didn’t think you would be able to handle what your parents would have in store if their second son would turn out to not be a Slytherin. You feel free now. You’re more of a bird than you ever were.”

 

“Yea, that’s right but does that outweigh my Slytherin qualities?”

 

The hat grumbled a bit.

Chapter 9: Sorting and Family Renuion, hurray!

 

Only after the sorting hat yelled out a definitive Slytherin did Regulus realize how fucked he was.

 

He would have a lot of trouble completing his third goal, to avoid everyone he might know, aka his parents. His parents who should still be in school, his parents and his best friends parents that are in Slytherin. He’s not sure if Barty’s parents were in Slytherin but that didn’t matter HIS OWN parents were in Slytherin.

 

Regulus tuned out whatever the principal was saying for a good minute or two. His breathing was not okay, how could it?? He had not emotionally prepared himself yet, he thought he did, BUT it was obvious to him that he had miscalculated.

 

He had half a mind to throw himself out of the windows, the other half tried to make sure his soul wouldn’t leave his body.

 

After blinking a few times he turned around on the chair. “Sorry, what did you say?”, Regulus asked into the silence.

 

If Regulus wasn’t trying to better himself in accepting disappointment from others, he would actually start zapping obliviates at each and every teacher there.

 

This was utterly embarrassing.

 

Headmaster Dippet cleared his throat, awkwardly looking around for a second before he smiled with slight concern in his eyes. “Well, what I said was that I’d call over the prefect of your house as soon as I could and wanted to know if you wanted to eat breakfast right now or after you got to your dorms. I would suggest you to go to the Hospital Wing though you seem a bit out of it.”

 

Regulus shook his head. “No, no, I just couldn’t sleep well on the way here”, he denied instantly.

 

“Oh don’t worry about that, we do not charge the students for medical supplies or anything and Hogwarts doesn’t charge for your education and we can even help you with school funds for school supplies, so do feel free to ask for anything we have to offer. Do not feel like a burden young Zwezdochka.” He put his hand on Regulus’ shoulder.

 

The instinct to either slap his hand away or throw an expelliarmus at the man for touching him was strong. Regulus realized within a second that he had not felt a non threatening touch in over a year now. He had barely seen his friends after he had to break off his seventh year. Everything else just faded into hits, screams bloodshed and darkness after that point in his life.

 

Regulus just breathed in and out, his Sirius approved smile pulling at his lips. “Thank you so much, Headmaster”, ‘for literally nothing’ went unsaid. Everything the old man just said was written in his acceptance letter. Regulus remembered though, that some muggle born children did, in fact, not know how to read, wait, how are they even supposed to know where to go for the Hogwarts Express? Maybe they would send out Professor Dumbledore just like they did for him? After all, he did answer the letter so… Regulus decided to not think any further into the logistics of those things as he stood up from the chair. 

 

“Mr. Slughorn, please help young Mr. Zwezdochka to the Hospital Wing? Since he does belong to your house now.” Regulus was just happy that he did not have to spend any more time with the future headmaster.

 

“Oh yes, of course”, answered Professor Slughorn nodding repeatedly As he turned to Regulus, “I’ll tell you all about this place while we walk. I could even bring you to your common room myself, there’s no need to wake up To-I mean Mr. Riddle”, he chuckled as he stood. “Good to know that Professor Slughorn still has his favorit- WAIT a minute Riddle?!” Regulus breathing stopped for a few seconds, his brain too preoccupied with his racing thoughts to care. 

 

Riddle, like Tom Riddle, Professor Slughorn almost said Tom, didn’t he?

 

No, no that’s bad.

 

Regulus knew that the mini dark lord was supposed to be attending school right now, but he was a prefect too?? 

 

And he’s in school for the holidays?!

 

Of course he would be, he’s an orphan!

 

Regulus thought about throwing himself out of the windows once again. This time not because of his parents but because of the person whose locket he had strapped around his waist.

 

“You know what, if you have something for headaches it would be greatly appreciated”, Regulus smiled, eyes slightly unfocused as he rubbed his temples.

 

“But of course! Of course, just follow me young Zwezdochka”, Slughorn hurriedly scuttled around the grand table and walked ahead, opening the doors to the Great Hall, Regulus a few steps behind, just to sell his mild sickness to the others in the room.

 

——

 

Regulus was sitting on a bed in the sterilized section of the hospital wing, drinking some potion Madam Weasley had given him. Madam Pomfrey probably didn’t come up with serving some cookies along with the nastier potions from her predecessor. 

 

Cedrella Weasley neé Black was apparently the witch tending to the sick students before Poppy Pomfrey. Regulus almost got a whiplash seeing her instead of the other woman when he walked into the Hospital Wing. Their personalities were also quite different, that much Regulus managed to realize in the few sentences they exchanged.

 

She was unnecessarily energetic for seeing a patient at five something in the morning. Regulus was sure that no one was as energetic this time around aside from the headmaster perhaps. She was cracking jokes every once in a while and even asked him questions he would have expected to be asked if someone were to try to become a friend, like:

 

“How are you feeling today, Blake?” He had to stop and think for a second before answering that one, it felt weird being called that name, even if he was the one to choose it.

 

“Are you sure you didn’t pull more than one all-nighter?” Yes, yes he was (he was lying but he managed worse).

 

“My guy, you are more malnourished than the plants Myrtle had to care for in herbology, wait why did she come to me with those-” Regulus truly didn’t know, wait a second Myrtle?? Like moaning Myrtle?! Regulus blinked a little dumbly at her for that. And of course, the highlight of his day:

 

“What spell do you use for your hair? It looks great, don’t get me wrong but my graying hairs look terrible on me, so if you could reverse whatever is making the tips of your hair white, I’d appreciate it- Oh! Or did you get it done the muggle way? I’ve read that a lot of muggles put some sort of cream or powder on their hair for some time and their hair just changes colors!” Really, Regulus asked himself how she managed to survive as long as she did in the house of Black with the kind of enthusiasm she talks with about muggles… she reminded him of Sirius in some sort of weird way.

 

Of course she probably kept all of her fascination hidden until she married that blood-traitor—Regulus stopped himself, wasn’t he a blood-traitor too? Even without defying Voldemort, he still never really thought of muggles, or muggleborn’s of that matter. With all of the chaos happening in his life Regulus never really dissected what he felt towards muggles. Half-bloods or muggleborn’s never really talked to him enough to warrant any personal feelings. The only non pure-blood that ever talked to him was the one person that couldn’t stand his brother, Severus. The older male started ranting to him about his experiments with magic and potions after realizing that Regulus was ‘surprisingly’ not his brother (who would’ve thought). He even encouraged Regulus’ own experiments.

 

So did he actually hate muggles?

 

Did he just parrot what his parents told him and not even realized that he had no factual evidence of muggles being lower than mages, at least mentally?

 

Or did he act on fear and anger, because of all the witches and wizard hunts in history? Regulus didn’t know, but he figured he had all the time in the world now, especially if he managed to avoid everything that is supposed to happen in this timeline.

 

Regulus gulped the rest of the bitter potion down with a swing and turned to Professor Slughorn.

”I’m feeling better, Professor, could you guide me to the dorms?”

 

Notes:

Guys I’m sick rn so ill try to write as much as I can(its like a flu with random headaches so meh felling a bit weak) but I’ll try to post the 10th chapter this week so yayyyy >:D

BTW just so you guys know, Euphemia is a teen here and so is Fleamont because I don’t think I’ve found any hard evidence about their ages and think that they are interesting characters :)

Chapter 10: New Look! New Friends! New…Wait Actually I’d Rather not

 

 

After Madam Weasley gave him some potions to help him have enough nutrients in his body to not faint at any given moment she told him to rest up in his dorms and get some sleep until his schedule called to be present elsewhere.

 

It was already almost seven at that point so Regulus decided he would just grab a bite in the kitchens after Professor Slughorn would show him his dorm. With that kind of determination he just went along with the head of the Slytherin house, deep, deep down into the dungeons. Regulus, of course, acted all awe inspired at the moving stairs and the labyrinth like hallways in the dungeons.

 

“Alright, so, this, young Zwezdochka is the door to your and your dorm mates common room. The password changes every week except for the holidays. I will mention the new password at the end of each weeks last lesson I have with Slytherins. So just keep an ear out for words that do not make much sense in context then”, smiled the older man and knocked on the door. 

 

“In vino veritas.”

 

And the door opened with a swing.

 

Regulus was not too surprised to see that nothing had changed to his timeline. For some reason he Had thought that everything he knew of his old school had changed, even Slughorn nervousness had subsided to a reasonable amount, but not this.

 

The beautiful lake that one could only see from underneath if you had the password for the Slytherin dorms was still there. 

 

The fish he used to stare at while Evan was wrestling with Barty on the rug next to the comfortable chairs he sat in.

 

The algae that would grow around the edges of the glass until that weeks house elf cleaners would come by and scrub it off.

 

The fireplace that never seems to stop burning. 

 

Regulus never knew he even could miss this, but he did. He wanted to be eleven once again and lay in his bed while Barty, Evan and Dorcas crawled into it as well, for a cuddle pile of course while they made plans on how to get Pandora to join next time and who it is that is going to give her the password that week. 

 

Life was easier back then, he might have been deadly afraid of his parents but he hadn’t had to find four artifacts to save all of the wizarding world of a small Voldemort that probably didn’t do anything yet.

 

Well, Regulus wasn’t too sure of the last part since his Father and mother went to school with Tom Riddle and still adored him, in their weird way, even though they should’ve known that he was a half-blood. 

 

For all Regulus knew, mini Voldemort could have already made a horcrux. His limbs froze at the thought, making him sway a bit on his feet as the teacher guided him deeper into the dorms to the fifth year quarters.

 

No, it can’t be. Dumbledore was here throughout all of Riddle’s education. There was no way the psychopath managed to make something so dark here while the strongest of the future had his eyes on him. Regulus relaxed his racing heart.

 

“We are here, young Zwezdochka. Your dorm. You will share a dorm room with young Malfoy.”

 The glass ceiling in the common room seemed pretty sturdy, Regulus thought he should test if it would survive multiple bombardas and maybe some of his fiendfyre experiments.

 

“He’s a bright young man and friends with the prefect I mentioned before, so I would suggest you find either him or the prefect if you have any troubles, though only Tom is here at the moment. You can ask your dorm mate after the holidays. Now I’ll let you rest for a while, you can take the day off today, no one expected you to be chipper and ready to take the placement tests on your first day here, we’ll start tomorrow with those on schedule”, explained the older man and pat him on the shoulder before turning around.

 

“Thank you, professor.” With that being said, Regulus threw his trunk at the foot of the one bed without any personal items like the books that were stacked on top of each other on various places of the other bed. Regulus couldn’t stop thinking about the irony of this happening to him. Of course he was no Regulus Black in this universe but he had not even though that his cousins husbands father would be the one he had to share a dorm with. Regulus had not approved of the wedding back then, and he did not want to meet the man that made Lucius.

 

Regulus crawled to the edge of his bed and opened his trunk and pulled out his transfigured clothes and robes and shoved them into the closet, used a small cleaning spell on his clothes and his own self to seem more presentable, now that he managed to get to Hogwarts and is not living in the wilderness anymore. To look more lived in to any other person that is going to meet him in the next few weeks and the new students that would arrive after the holidays. 

 

Finally, the dirt was gone. Regulus could breathe again.

 

He put the quill, ink and the parchment paper into a drawer next to his bed, using his wand to carve out runes into the back of the drawer, preventing anyone from touching the wood, with either their magic or their flesh and skin. At least anyone who doesn’t have “Blake Zwezdochka’s” blood, which could not even be traced back to the Black family anymore after the fideluis spell.

 

Of course he had to open up some of his older wounds after letting the metamorphmagus form drop on his arms, just to tug on some of the not entirely healed claw marks. His blood dripped onto the dark wood, the red fluid moved in unnatural rivers towards the carved runes as they got filled. The drawer glowed red for a few seconds, shaking before settling once again.

 

Regulus sighed and threw some healing spells on the reopened claw marks before they turned back into freckles. “Why does it take such a long time to heal from those damn Inferi”, groaned Regulus as he thought of how he could sneak some of Professor Slughorn’s potions stash to concoct something that would help him heal. Of course Regulus knew the reason as to why he could never fully close the wounds from a few weeks ago. Somehow meddling with probably time, drinking poison that made him hallucinate and getting undead creatures known for how dark they are act as if he were a scratch tree for cats, was probably not the way to go if he wanted to heal fast. His malnutrition for the past weeks probably didn’t help with the blood loss or the wounds infested with dark magic.

 

Regulus changes into more comfortable clothes, some he made inspired by his brothers friend, the one who had the roman mythology name or whatever. He didn’t play quidditch so he forgot about him after Regulus went to Hogwarts.

 

But now Regulus could wear whatever he wanted without having think about the consequences of wearing anything that didn’t match his parents dress code being leaked to them.

 

He always wanted a wider collar, he used to feel like he was getting choked.

 

Especially whenever he had panic or anxiety attack but had to speed walk to the nearest bathroom before he could unbutton the first few buttons on his dress shirt.

 

But he could be a disgrace now! No one would even come up with the idea on having any expectations of him, a “stray”that hogwarts took under its wing, an orphan that never had a proper education aside from what his “parents” could provide him with before their death.

 

Regulus jumped off the bed and pulled out a warm brown and green pullover out of the mess in his clothes. He would make it look more orderly in there later.

 

He knew he had to go to sleep soon enough but he wanted to make sure he would be deeply unconscious. He did not want to spend his first day in the dorms waking up screaming. At least no one could hear him in the woods. Now he had to watch out. He knelt down next to the legs of the bed and started carving out some silencing runes on the backs of them, boosting them with his magic.

 

He stood up once again and breathed out, breathed in and walked out of his dorm room, leaving his empty trunk at the foot of his bed as the only obvious evidence that someone even visited that room.

 

——

 

Regulus arrived at the kitchens before long and knocked a few times on the wall before waiting for one of the kitchen elves  to open up. He was sure that there was a painting in his time, did they take it down? Maybe they tried out something different from time to time, Regulus figured.

 

“Ahh, please give us three more minutes before the inspection Si- oh? Who are you?”, asked a meek voice of a small house elf as they opened the door to the kitchen that materialized in the place where Regulus knocked.

 

“Oh I’m a new student, just arrived today and was hoping if I could could get a sandwich or so, please? If it‘s no trouble to you. I know that breakfast was supposed to be at seven, but I had to go to the infirmary and get settled in into my dorm”, Regulus bent over slightly to get closer to the small house elf’s eye height.

 

“Oh! I-Yes-? Of-of course yo-you can have a sandwich are you sure-sure that you do not want something more fill-filling?”, stuttered the house elf at the sudden movement on Regulus’ part.

 

“Oh no, a sandwich is just fine”, smiled Regulus tiredly. He missed talking to Hogwarts’ elves. They used to be nervous but realized soon enough that he genuinely liked talking to them, to the point where he even got a special place to sit in and snack in the kitchen, since he used to forget that he’s an athlete and that he had to feed himself as such.

 

Although, he’s not going to be an athlete this timeline. Because that would mean that he would be in a quidditch team with his father and aunt. He would rather die again than having to spend more time with the small version of his father than he had to. Thank you very much.

 

“Should I come in or would you rather I not?”, asked Regulus.

 

The smaller one blinked up at him. “I’m sorry?”

 

Regulus remembered how not every house elf was used to getting an option or having the power to choose who is going to be close to them. He got too used to his timeline and how he interacted with the elves after gaining their trust and respect. He smiled slightly strained as he realized that he had to start all over again, but he hoped that the small one wouldn’t realize the strain.

 

“I asked you if you want me to be inside of the kitchen while you finish up the sandwich so that you do not have to walk all the way to the door again or if I should wait here and wait for you to not disturb your work?”, Regulus went unnecessarily in detail but thats what the elves needed right now. They needed to know that he had no ill intentions, that he was not there to judge their work or anything.

 

“I-Sir- you- you can stay here no need to walk all the way into th-there”, answered the elf, shaking.

 

“Alright, thank you”, said Regulus and stood up once more.

 

The small fella blinked , slightly disoriented, and closed the door while rushing out a: “N-no, I thank you, Sir!” 

 

Regulu huffed out a small laugh before he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes, imagining how to get Professor Slughorn to look away for long enough for Regulus to steal the ingredients for a sleeping draught and potion for dreamless sleep, at least the better versions he read up in Severus’ potions book.

 

A hand pushing on his mind’s walls made him snap open his eyes. 

 

This was not Dumbledore.

 

This was someone else, someone whose legilimency was violent, a canon that destroys everything in its way. A canon that doesn’t have the same grand amount of gunpowder it’s older version has.

 

Regulus pushes back with everything he has, even though he knows he doesn’t need to. He managed to survive the violent penetration of ones mind by the persons hand at the height of their power. Regulus just couldn’t keep the anger in anymore as that fucker had the gall to get into his head without even having seen him and just as he was going to have breakfast.

 

The hallway was empty aside from Regulus’ lonely from against the wall. He felt the hand at his mind’s walls flinch as it being pushed back, and back, and back. A murder after another kept on swamping the space between one and the others mind, the crows of his mind pecking relentlessly at the hand that tried to push through to his memories just a second ago. And in less than a minute did the other presence retreat.

 

Regulus clenched his fist, marking his own hand with his nails.

 

The locket secured and covered up by the pullover has been heating up at his side. It was probably reacting to the fucker that just tried to get into his head.

 

That half-blood was lucky Regulus was trying to avoid any interaction with the people he knew back in his timeline, since he is not supposed to know them as of right now, or he would be storming to his common room to wait for the reason he had been sucked into the stupid war, the one who desired power so much that he would kill others just to rip his own soul to pieces.

 

Regulus froze up.

 

The locket.

 

Why was it reacting to Tom Riddle in this timeline?

 

 

Notes:

I think my fever is getting better, though my throat still feels like shit butttttt i managed to write almost 2.5k for this chapter. Soooooo I guess yay for that lamooo >:D

Chapter 11: Now Why Would an Heir of Slytherin Be There

Summary:

Tom: *being annoying*
Reg: *puts him in time out*
Tom: even better
—
Also rip Reggies Sandwich u will be missed

 

 

Regulus really was going to beat up and curse whoever was responsible for his current predicament of a locket that was supposed to host nothing anymore suddenly burning up again after the one whose soul was still whole at this point in time.

 

Regulus has been pacing up and down the hallway for the past two minutes, breathing irregularly. A few Hufflepuff students walked past him during that time, looking at him weirdly. They could shove their wands up their asses, Regulus gave them his best ‘mind your business’ glare he had mastered at the age of eight as a Black and they scurried off. He just continued trying to figure out how that was even possible. How could he not have felt any kind of difference on his own psyche for having a functioning horcrux on his body.

 

It didn’t make sense. There was no way he would not have realized that Voldemort had been corrupting his mind. And such a corruption would’ve made it much easier for Tom Riddle to penetrate his mind.

 

But if the thing at his hip was not a horcrux anymore but still reacted to the soul of mini Voldemort, then what was it now?

 

Regulus’ plan to keep the locket and burn it with the other future horcruxes somewhere where his fiendfyre would not hurt anyone by accident was thrown out of the window right then and there. Regulus had to burn it to ashes as fast as he could.

 

“Ex-excuse me Mis-ter”, he hears the house elf from before call out, a bit louder than before. Regulus stopped in his tracks and turned around quickly.

 

“Yes?”, he smiled, still not breathing regularly but easily excusable as catching his breath because of the pacing he’d been doing for now over two minutes.

 

“I-I’m truly sorry-sorry for taking so lon-long, but here is your sandwich. I’m s-s-so sorry-y.” Regulus felt a pang of guilt gnaw on his conscience. A second later he slapped himself mentally. No. This was what Pandora had been talking about. Do not feel guilty if people you care about feel bad because of you if it’s just a misunderstanding, a communication error and you genuinely meant no harm. Regulus could not control anyone’s feelings. He can easily make the house elf understand that he hadn’t been pacing because of them, but because of something else.

 

“Oh don’t be sorry, I was thinking of how excited I was to do some grade placement testing tomorrow, I like to write a lot. I just couldn’t keep my energy in anymore”, he chuckled at the last part. “This looks delicious, thank you”, he paused for a second. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t ask for your name before.”

 

The elf visibly relaxed, their shoulders dropping and giving a weak, nervous smile back. “Daisy is my name.”

 

Regulus took the outstretched sandwich in his hands. “Thank you, Daisy.”

 

The smaller ones eyes light up tears forming around the edges, their fingers twitching and clutching their chest. “Of course.”

 

Regulus was going to make the elves feel like they should.

 

Appreciated.

 

——

 

Regulus was rubbing his tired eyes as he walked up the stairs to the astronomy tower. 

 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to see himself or Sirius floating alongside his other family in the sky since it was now nearing eight thirty in the morning and the sun had already come up casting the landscape in a tired, warm light. What he was able to see though was the full moon on it’s descent.

 

Sirius had always been a moon fanatic. Always smiled like the brightest star when he was able to see it during the day, even after their mother scolded him about it and how he seemed like a werewolf for having the moon phases memorized. Some day after Sirius finished his fourth year at Hogwarts he would scowl back and asked Walburga why that would be a bad thing.

 

Needless to say he lost his dinner privileges for the next three days and got to be the one their mother got to test her new curses on. She said that if Sirius didn’t think being a werewolf  wasn’t that bad of a thing to be, then he should also not think it too bad to be treated like one. Regulus tried to smuggle him some food from the small hole between the floor and the door at night when he was sure their parents were asleep, but Sirius shoved them back out. Regulus never figured out why Sirius didn't accept his help back then. He also realized that his friends, or ‘marauders’ as they liked to call themselves, had been more silent after those specific holidays for a few weeks before the shenanigans resumed as usual.

 

Regulus had felt rejected back then. He had not been able to look at the moon for quite a while.

 

He realized that the moon and the stars were the only thing he still had left of his past life, and that damned locket. He didn’t even have his own body if he was not somewhere he was entirely sure he was alone, or else he could count those infested wounds in on the tiny amount he still had left.

 

He knew that every trace of Regulus Black had to die for Blake Zwezdochka to be able to live and not be hunted down. Still, he sometimes wished his memories could’ve vanished alongside his name. At the very least he would be able to sleep at night without waking up to an aching body and the screams of his brother, the maniacal laughter of his best friend, the cold stare of his other best friend, the glare of his friend that joined the order, the hand of the calm in his life trying to catch him and the sobs of his house elf ringing in his ears while he choked on water he had long since escaped.

 

His head felt warm as the nutrition potions finally did their jobs and filled out some of his cheeks, close to what they used to be back in his own sixteenth birthday. He guessed always being a year younger than he was actually supposed to be was going to be alright if only to seem meeker and more of background noise to the historically important people of this time.

 

He yawned, stopping his steps to not accidentally break it off and resumed walking afterwards. He hexed his thigh, where his hand rested, with a small electrocuting hex Barty and him had come up with to stay awake longer to study better. The electricity would zap into ones body, touch the nerves and freeze them for a second, not good for combat since neither of them thought of using it in that way, but a good way to keep the body awake by making it feel like it’s under attack. 

 

He just needed to make it a few more flights of stairs.

 

Once he reached the top of the stairs he Immediately walked to the railing and practically fell to the ground, turned into his animagus form and started to peck off bits and pieces of his sandwich. Eating slowly to ensure that he would feel if he’s full, so that he’d be able to eat some in the morning as well.

 

After he pecked off around half of the sandwich he took the rest in his beak and flew onto the roof, where he let the sandwich fall on a more or less horizontal tile and rested his own body on top of it, finally resting with real food in his stomach after a long time. He made a few simple spells to ensure his wellbeing on the roof like a few heat spells, a few spells to go unnoticed with his sandwich if anyone were to look up before he closed his tired black eyes and snuggled his beak into his sleek feathers, seeking warmth.

 

———

 

Regulus woke up cawing like a madman-or a mad crow, whatever. He did not feel rested at all. His body felt heavy, even for his bird form and it felt wet, wet, he couldn't breathe but what’s new. His small head banged the tile repeatedly  out of embarrassment after cawing for a good while because of his nightmares.

 

Black eyes scanned everything around him as he calmed himself down. The sun was red as it reflected in his eyes. Fuck.

 

What time was it? He hopped around the roof before snatching the sandwich and swooping down into a bush close to the Hogwarts gate. He quickly changed back into his human form and started sprinting with the sandwich clutched in his hand. 

 

The sun should rise around eight o’clock these days and it seemed to have risen less than fifteen minutes ago, if regulus were to guess from where the sun stood in the sky. How did he manage to sleep for twenty four hours?? Regulus blamed his all seed diet in the past few months and his all-nighters for that.

 

He ran like he still had any kind of condition after not going on runs for the past few weeks, breathing coming out ragged before he skidded to a halt in front of Slytherin’s doors.

 

“In”,a breath interrupted him, “Vino”, a cough that turned into a wheeze, ”veritas.”

 

The doors flung open and Regulus stumbled through, seeing Professor Slughorn about to go into the dorm section of the dungeons.

 

“Professor!” Regulus coughed, throat feeling scratchy as it tried to not strain itself more than it already had.

 

“Oh! There you are, young lad, I was already worried that you had overslept since I couldn’t see you at the breakfast table. Just so you know, the one nest to the wall where everyone wears green is the Slytherin one”, he winked as if he just gave Regulus a good life hack and pat him on the shoulder. “Good thing though that you seem to have something to eat, or had something”, he said looking at Regulus’ sandwich, or, what was left of it after sprinting through those halls. Most of the filling was gone to the pint where his partially eaten sandwich only consisted of two sad, soggy slices of bread.

 

“Oh, yea I asked one of the elves for a small sandwich, couldn’t stomach the bread too well though. The nerves before the exams you know?”, Regulus managed to heave through a small chuckle.

 

“Oh poor you, no, no, you do not need to worry since the grades you will get on the exams right now will only be for us professors to know, to kind of measure how much help we can provide you with for the coming weeks. We want you to start with confidence into your first term at Hogwarts after all. So you can just do your exams without any pressure, no one is expecting perfect marks”, smiled the potions master, trying to ‘calm’ Regulus’ nerves and he made sure to selectively relax some muscle groups around his shoulders, seemingly making them slump in the realization that they had no expectations of him.

 

He already knew that but it was better to act like he didn’t, instead of trying to come up with a reason as to why he had to run so fast through the halls of Hogwarts at eight in the morning that all of his sandwich filling fell out at some point.

 

The locket began to heat up again, that was the moment Regulus knew they had to get out of the common room as soon as possible. He pat Professor Slughorn’s shoulder, something that would’ve mortified him had he half a brain to process what he was doing -at least Pandora would be proud that he initiated bodily contact with someone outside of his friend group-. He stopped patting the elders shoulder and turned him around along with himself, let go and started walking to the door leading out of the common room.

 

“Let’s not waste any time then and get going!”, chirped Regulus, slamming the door open as he used his wild locks after the run to transform his left ear into that of as cat and go unnoticed. The sound of a door closing in the distance and the locket’s quick rise in warmth confirmed Regulus’ suspicions.

 

He had to get out of there.

 

Fast.

 

“To see the youth of today so eager to learn”, the professor sniffed a bit, if because of the cold or not, Regulus didn’t care to figure out. The alarm bells in his crow mind were ringing loudly as he started to walk more quickly, hoping to prompt the professor to do as well.

 

The door clicked closed and Regulus could breathe again. Regulus knew he wanted to stay on the low, but he also knew himself and hurting Kreacher was a one way ticket into his bad graces, it didn’t matter if mini Voldemort didn’t do it yet. If his father and mother never even gave him a dirty look for being a part of the death eaters, then they must’ve agreed with Tom Riddles ideas as well. So Regulus was pretty sure that his fist would be kissing that guy’s nose, if he ever even had one, before Riddle even said anything.

 

That just wouldn’t bode well for his whole ‘staying in the background and do whatever I want there’ bit. Though if Riddle were to throw the first punch… Regulus wasn’t friends with Barty without knowing how to make someone feel the pain of trying to win in any way against Regulus Arcturus Black.

 

The heat on his hip did not rise.

 

It didn’t go down either.

 

Merlins sack.

 

Regulus had some more choice words ready to be released if he even had to look at that fucker right now, so he walked faster.

 

Regulus’ breaths deepened. A hand was at his walls, this time, instead of trying to punch through there was pressure building slowly, like a snake readying itself to bite. He’s too tired for this and does not have the nerves for something like that. The locket was going crazy but Regulus couldn’t hear any steps coming closer, those had stopped moving once they had reached the common room.

 

“Youn Zwezdochka, we have to go left to get to the Transfiguration classroom-“, gasped Professor Slughorn behind him. “You really are excited, don’t- huuuuu- don’t worry though you’ve already met Albus- I mean professor Dumbledore for you haha.”

 

Regulus’ body moved on autopilot and went to the left, they didn’t change the layout one bit it seems. Thankfully that bought him time to make his minds walls thicken as push against the pressure, letting the hand into the literal wall of his mid, better known as his meditation spot. And if anyone knew of meditation they would say that one does not think whenever one does it. 

 

And that is completely correct.

 

Regulus let the hand roam in nothingness, maybe it would grow tired after some time.

 

Opening his meditational headspace also made his steps slow.

 

“Huuuuu- Young man you seem quite the energetic one, may I interest you to try for our quidditch team haha”, laughed the older man as he caught up to Regulus. “No thank you, Professor”, came the smooth reply and he couldn’t even register if he felt guilty because he had to expand his walls once again.

 

Regulus would give the little brat two more minutes before he kicked him out of his mind. How persistent can one be in finding something in absolute nothing??? 

 

“Fair enough, quidditch is not for everyone, just think about it maybe”, gasped Professor Slughorn and then straightened up, brushing invisible dust off his robes and knocked on the door. 

 

“Albus, we’re here”, then the older wizard turned to Regulus who has been staring into space and pat his shoulder again, jerking him out of his meditative state, making Regulus activate his occlumency on pure instinct as he flinched. A wind, strong enough to feel like a natural phenomenon picked up the hand in one bat of the crows wings and threw it out of Regulus’ mind.

 

That wasn’t quite two minutes but Regulus took it as a sign to just keep on throwing the miniature dark lord out of his brain.

 

The locket cooled down, slowly going from an uncomfortable heat to a small warmth and back to its original coldness.

 

He focused on the here and now when the door opened and a face he hoped he wouldn’t have to see as early in the morning as he did popped out. A mischievous twinkle in those eyes made Regulus wanna grimace but he just plastered his Sirius approved smile on his face and greeted him.

 

The professor for transfiguration let Regulus in before talking a bit to professor Slughorn. Regulus just tuned them out and took a seat at the only table with a few pieces of parchment, a quill, a glass of ink and a few objects on it. He sat down before he froze up, did he take his wand with him? Regulus shoves his hand into his pockets. HE knew he could do most transfigurations without a wand, he has been doing so for the past few weeks, but Dumbledore couldn’t know, he was too curious already. Regulus sighed in relief as he found his wand and realized how grateful he was that he shoved it into the back pocket of his pants after carving those runes yesterday.

 

He looked up just to see both professors still dishing out gossip, it seems. Regulus raised an eyebrow and coughed a little.

 

“Ah, yes my boy you can start, I’ll be there in a minute”, seemed like Dumbledore was not curious anymore.

 

Regulus just nodded and started writing. Answering question after question, making mistakes every now and then that anyone could’ve made by just interpreting stuff in a different way.

 

He did all of the written questions first, finishing off quite quickly, and went to the practical part right after. Exchanging the goblet he had to transfigure into gray a rat with a white one, making the golden ball he had been assigned to make into a greenish golden ball and so on, making sure to get some imperfections here and there but still good enough to not fail.

 

Tug.

 

Regulus has HAD it with people trying to invade his mind so he gave Dumbledore the Tom Riddle treatment and pecked at the others consciousness, shooing him away. Unlike that miniature dark lord though, he backed off just like he usually did.

 

Regulus should make everyone thank him in this timeline for not beating or cursing the ever loving hades out of them if he ever found a way back to his own timeline.

 

——

 

And so the whole day went by. Exam, after exam, after exam. He forgot how exhausting the N.E.W.T.s and O.W.L.s were but at least they only did questions he actually had answers to since they couldn’t really surprise him with new information, he actually even tried for once on professor Binn’s exam. Shockers.

 

Regulus was dragging his feet back to the dungeons, not to go to his dorm. Nooooo he had to do his potions exam. He had to apparently just do the obligatory classes so it’s around three p.m, a bit later since he had to argue a bit with Professor Merrythought after his dada exam. He would rather finish all of the exams right after each other so that he would have it done and over with. She wanted him to eat lunch, but with the idea of seeing the owner of the annoying hand in person made him almost pop a blood vessel.

 

“Oh, there you are! Come in, come in!”, Professor Slughorn ushered Regulus inside before he could even knock on the door. 

 

”Young Zwezdochka, please, this is your brewing station, the questions are on that piece of paper. I suggest you write the answers down as you brew. You can use the potions book for the last two potions, the other three should be easily achievable without the book. If you do need some assistance or are just not sure, feel free to use it. I would rather you not burn my potions laboratory haha.” Regulus just smiled and went to his station. It felt good seeing his old professor so relaxed.

 

Regulus starts going through the potions, using some shortcuts Severus and Barty showed him when he and Evan complained about having to memorize so many potions by heart that they would never use.

 

After sine time he reached the second to last potions, opening the book to the marked page, he had to shove his giddy feelings deep into the back of his mind as he saw the title for the first potion.

 

“Potion of Dreamless Sleep”

 

Regulus made an interested sound, nodded his head and put aside all of the ingredients he needed, slipping some of them up his sleeves, accidentally dropping some stuff and picking it with less in hand than before. Subtle changes but still proportional to the recipe. As Regulus was working through the potion he realized the locket getting warmer.

 

No stress, Riddle could be walking around anywhere in the dungeons, that’s nothing…

 

Regulus  started picking up his pace, looking less and less into the book, trying to finish this as fast as he could. He made the second to last potion only three minutes longer than he usually would need to. He skimmed through the last recipe and just threw in anything he remembered, he was pretty sure he blew that one but he didn’t stay long enough to see. After he poured his last potion into a vial and handed everything to his professor he sped walked to the door, The locket practically scorching his hip with the intensity of it’s heat.

 

Regulus flung the door open with such strength that it almost broke off its hinges when the locket suddenly started to vibrate.

 

Regulus’ breath came in an uneven pattern as he stepped out of the door frame and directly into someone’s arm.

 

“Shit”, hissed Regulus as he stumbled back into the doorframe. “Hey sor-“, Regulus stopped immediately. The locket was basically trying to vibrate a hole through his pullover, but that was not the reason he shut up. It was the realization of who stood before him.

 

The other teen chuckled, a grin pretending to be a worried smile spreading on his now fully human lips. “No, it is I that has to apologize, Mr..?”

 

Regulus’ face contorted into one of utter disgust. He knew he could’ve held back on his reaction, but it was either that or a wandless and wordless bombarda, which he could not do with his professor so close by.

 

Regulus just scoffed and turned away, hands stiff on his sides to keep the movement of the horcrux as minimal as possible.

 

“Breathe in. Breathe out. Archie. You can do this”, Regulus repeated that mantra.

 

Then he felt it.

 

The stupid hand again, but it was not one made out of ones mind.

 

It was Riddle’s hand that wrapped around his wrist.

 

“That was quite rud-“, Regulus yanked his hand out of the taller ones grip, hazel eyes glaring into deep brown ones. 

 

“Don’t fucking touch me”, or I will actually make you regret not avoiding me, went unsaid. He was using the tone of voice his mother used to threaten him and his brother with.

 

The other Slytherin looked to the side, smirk frozen on his lips, then he looked back to Regulus who had turned around in the meantime and took a step away from the future serial killer.

 

“Oh thank Merlin! There you are young Zwezdochka! I think you’ve read the wrong recipe, the last potion was supposed to be a Felix Felicis, not a blood replenishing potion, and although this is a perfect potion I would have to ask you to try to do the Felix Felicis at least one more time, if you still have energy left.” 

 

Regulus cursed every god whose name he could remember as Professor Slughorn stumbled out of the door of his potions laboratory.

 

“Oh! Tom, good to see you here, is everything alright? Do you maybe need something for your studies? I actually wanted to introduce young Zwezdochka to you yesterday but it seems like you’ve already talked”, exclaimed the older wizard as his eyes shifted from one persons to the other.

 

“No, Professor, I’m quite alright. But thank you for asking. Sadly I couldn’t quite catch Mr Zwezdochka’s name, he seemed quite in a hurry just now.” Regulus was this close to scoffing loud enough for the teacher to hear.

 

“Well, Tom Riddle, this is Blake Zwezdochka. Blake Zwezdochka, this is Tom Riddle. Now come Zwezdochka, I think you could finish it in less than twenty minutes if you really set your mind to it”

 

Riddle smiled like the cat that ate the canary. Good thing that Regulus was a crow.

 

“Of course, Professor”, he smiled sweetly and followed the potions master back inside of the room, ignoring the other teenager’s existence. He did not mostly to focus more on his breathing, moving his chest even though he held his breath, trying to let the heart calm down by giving it less air to work with. The horcrux almost managed to show through his pullover, almost burning his waist where it tried to go through. 

 

He heard a small tsk behind him before the uncharacteristically soft voice spoke up with none of the bewilderment the tsk had been performed. “Professor, would you mind me watching this? We are supposed to do this position in the term to come, so I think I would appreciate seeing someone as skilled as Blake work on it. I mean, he managed to do a blood replenishing potion perfectly so he seems to know what he’s doing.”

 

Riddle made sure to include Regulus’ first name in all of that talking, simply to make sure Regulus knew he was lower than Riddle in the social hierarchy by mot using his last name. Regulus knew Slytherin tactics though, he grew up with them even. The only difference? He doesn’t have to bow down to anyone this time. 

 

Not to his parents will, not to Voldemort. Only to his own pride maybe.

 

“Well, I don’t know Tom, you would have to ask Zwezdochka here”, answered the adult. Both heads turned to him.

 

Regulus made sure to slap on Barty’s most shit-eating grin and a wise nod as he answered:

 

“Well, of course Tommy here can watch me do this potion, I’ll make sure he understands all of those new big words if I need to”

 

 

 

Chapter 12: Let the Experiments Begin-Wait Maybe Don’t!

Summary:

Reg: *yaps*
Tom: *annoyed*
Reg: *keeps his personal privacy*
Tom: how dare u
Reg: *ignores him*
Tom: *le gasp*

 

 

Regulus realized he might’ve been a bit too brash with that decision.

 

Just a little bit.

 

He was now reading the instructions step by step and chirping up with random definitions and fun facts about some of the ingredients. 

 

That was not the problem, he usually would ramble when it came to subjects he was invested in. The problem was that he looked more stiff than an uncooked noodle.

 

That Circe be damned locket has been going crazy ever since Riddle got close and hadn’t stopped. All he could do now was press the scorching silver into his hipbone with his elbow as he moved around as stiff as a log.

 

The only good thing about this predicament was seeing the future dark lord get more and more tired and his smirk grow more strained at his constant talking and the baby voice he used to talk about some specific terms, talking as slowly as he used to get Barty and Evan to stop wrestling on the ground like mad dogs. 

 

Regulus had to hide his happiness.

 

Finally, the hand didn’t try to reach out for the whole twenty or so minutes he’s been talking and brewing.

 

Seems like Riddle dubbed him as someone unimportant.

 

Boom

 

Regulus masked his flinch with a small jump of happiness as he went on a rant about the powdered rue and its properties for this potion specifically and what it’s generally used for.

 

Regulus didn’t think he’d jinx it by just being content for once. The hand was now repeatedly banging at his walls, with the same violence, if not more, than before. His walls were strong, of course, he grew up with Walburga and Orion Black’s paranoid legilimency surprise checkups, but he still didn’t appreciate Riddle doing so before he was even done with the potion.

 

This time Regulus used his own hands to pry the other’s away from his mind, squeezing a bit harder than was necessary since the mini mass murderers mental hands stopped all movement the moment he grabbed onto them. He shoved Riddles hand out of his consciousness before finishing the little rant, his eyes sliding towards the warm brown ones.

 

Professor Slughorn nodded and muttered something about Regulus’ analysis and said he’d be right back so he could note some of it down and went to the front of the classroom to retrieve his notebook.

 

Regulus saw a flash of anger in those eyes he hadn’t stopped contact with since the end of his info dump. The amount of satisfaction he got solely from that made his almost smirk himself. But no, if he wanted to act like someone unimportant he would have to deny as long as he could. If Riddle ever crossed the line he would have his fair share of fun throwing him out of the loop.

 

The younger version of the dark lord he knew was good, but not unbeatable. Regulus knew he shouldn’t, not until Riddle throws the first blow. Or else he would seem unreasonable to the teachers, he couldn’t care less about the rumors the students spread but he’d rather not get Dumbledore to watch over him.

 

Regulus let his smile drop and turned back around to his potion, lowering the heat.

 

“Alright, there, noted it down! You have some good theories young Zwezdochka-uh Blake.” Exclaimed the oldest wizard in the room.

 

Regulus almost wanted to dunk his head into his cauldron. He could feel an invitation for a slug party coming from a mile away. Thankfully there were no slug parties over the holidays so he still had around three weeks to relax without having to think of an excuse to no attend such an event.

 

He nodded and murmured a small ‘thank you’ before he let the cauldron cool down. He poured the still cooling brew into a small vial and handed it to his professor. “Does this look well enough?”, he asked, knowing he made it well but not as good as he could’ve. Alas, he could not use Severus’ shortcuts in front of Riddle, since the others skill in potions was the reason why Voldemort took Severus in as a death eater after all.

 

“Oh yes, it looks quite adequate. I’ll inform you tomorrow on which classes you need to go to holiday courses through to start off the coming terms on the same wavelength as your peers”, he laughed and patted Regulus’ shoulder.

 

“Perfect, well, good day to you, Sir”, said the one with white hair tips as he ran his fingers through them and turned to the door.

 

He took quick steps towards the door and slammed it shut the moment he managed to get out. 

 

There was no hand this time, Regulus let a smirk -one would usually only see if they even thought of challenging Regulus before a quidditch match- slip. The locket cooled down with every step he took towards the Slytherin dorms. Regulus stopped walking after a while and leaned against a wall as he clutched his side shoving his cold hands underneath his pullover and in the space between his waist and the chain of the locket, soothing the burning heat.

 

“Fuckass”, Regulus didn’t know if he was cursing the horcrux or the one whose soul was connected to it. He needed to find some place that can help him get rid of the locket.

 

He straightened his back with a gasp before he rushed out of the dungeons as fast as he could, avoiding the hallways that made the locket grow warmer.

 

How could he not think of that sooner?! Regulus felt hope flutter in his chest as he remembered the one hallway that had apparently nothing. If only people knew how to pace around as much as Regulus had done on that summer night. Maybe they would also have a room to go to then.

 

Regulus reached the astronomy wing and started pacing. “I need a room that can withstand fiendfyre and the death of a horcrux”, Regulus thought while he visualized walls full of protective runes, strong enough to not break even if he were to somehow loose control of the fire.

 

The wall rumbled for a split second, almost unnoticeable, then a door made of stone formed.

 

“Yes”

 

He used the door opening spell Pandora and he had created back in their fourth year, because he had been feeling on the verge of a mental breakdown for a while back then and couldn’t stand the thought of having to touch anything, which was no problem since the levitation spell existed, but opening doors? Neither of them found something so they just made one. Now it was handy for him since he was not sure if he could open a thick stone door as easily as he would’ve had he not been eating only seeds for the past few weeks.

 

The door flung open and Regulus rushed in, making sure the heavy doors fell closed behind him.

 

He flung a few incendios at the candles on the floor that made a circle in the middle of the large room. It was an octagonal room, made of some sort of black stone, the ceiling was more than ten meters in height and each wall that lead to it was covered with one specific rune for protection and cold wind. The candles in the middle of the room illuminated the eight black pillars, that had more and more complex runes Regulus would have to write down himself to know what they mean, from the outside. There was a desk made out of the same stone as everything against the far right wall with a quill, a vial full of ink next to it, and a stack of notebooks. In front of the desk was one single chair made of stone with back- and armrests.

 

Regulus gasped at the sight and rushed to get the horcrux off of his body, tugging at the chain until he found the part where he can unclasp it. It’s cold now but Regulus would rather not try his luck and wear it again. At least not now.

 

Regulus freed himself of the wretched thing and threw it on the ground into the circle of pillars.

 

He wasted no time. No, he couldn’t waste any more time. He couldn’t disappoint his friends, he had to make sure his friends would be able to grow up without that crazy fanatics hands picking them off of school and immediately into battle.

 

He needed to burn this before that half-blood even got a small clue what existed inside of Hogwarts’ walls.

 

He took his wand out of his pocket.

 

“Ollivanders better be right about the lethality of this”, Regulus muttered before he started off with one of the tamer versions of fiendfyre he invented.

 

He dropped his wand as an agonized scream pierced the silence and the fire ebbed.

 

Regulus crumbled to the floor, shocks of pain coursing though his whole body.

 

What. In. Merlins. Name.

 

 

Notes:

Might make another chapter today but idk

Chapter 13: Theories and an Annoying Snake

Summary:

Reggie needs some rest atp T-T

 

 

Regulus was absolutely fucked.

 

He wished that he could make a dirty joke at the moment but he really couldn’t.

 

This shouldn’t have happened, under any circumstance, ever.

 

He should not feel pain as the horcrux gets grilled like a steak.

 

It’s supposed to be Riddle, if anything, or the Voldemort in his timeline. But not Regulus.

 

Regulus was sitting on the cold stone chair, his upper body slumped over one armrests and his leg dangling off the other, his arms hugging his midriff. He couldn’t quite breathe, his brain racing with theories on HOW that was even possible.

 

Could it be that a horcrux was sentient? He thought it would make sense, but what didn't make sene was that that small part of Voldemort that shouldn’t exist in this timeline would choose to attack him only now. 

 

Well, the locket started to heat up and move whenever he came close to the younger and WHOLE version of it’s soul, but that seemed more like an instinct, rather than a planned attack on his waist.

 

Regulus breath hitched before he coughed at a specific thought.

 

Did… did he make a horcrux? But that wasn’t possible, ones soul should tear apart, suffer, when making a horcrux, or should it not?

 

No, it can’t, Voldemort wouldn’t have been able to do those two horcruxes, or four if Regulus could trust his reasoning and gut feeling.

 

Then how did a baby made out of a love potion ever care enough for someone that their death would tear it apart? That didn’t make any sense. No, there has to be something else. If one could just kill anyone, then even his crazy cousin would have a horcrux.

 

No, there has to be some kind of ritual, and what were the odds of Regulus accidentally managing such? Close to no nothing.

 

So his best guess was that the whole time travel, or dimension hopping, only happened because of whatever Riddle did in that damned cave.

 

Regulus didn’t feel any changes in his own body and mind, so it couldn’t he a horcrux, right?

 

He groaned as he rotated in his chair and started writing his thoughts down, filling page after page.

 

—

 

When Regulus came back to he saw the candles close to burning out, he sighed and put the notebook he almost filled into the space between his pullover and chest, picked the locket off the ground and clipped it around his waist once more.

 

He guessed he did have one advantage, next to the negatives he had to deal with because of the locket, and that was having a pretty accurate Riddle detector.

 

He sighed as he charmed the doors open and stuck his wand into the pockets of his trousers.

 

He looked out of the windows as he left the astronomy wing and went toward the great hall.

 

His stomach has been growling for the past few hours and he could not wait to get something in there.

 

He was walking down the hallway towards the double doors of the great hall, feeling the locket warm up once again.

 

…food was not that important, Regulus figured, and turned on his heel and came face to face with the current headmaster.

 

“Ah! Zwezdochka! How was your first official day in Hogwarts? Were you also on your way to the dinner buffet? Let me tell you something, the roasted potatoes are the best”, he said the last statement like a conspiracy, “Would you like to walk with me for a bit young man? Of course I’ll let you go to your friends once we’re there, don't worry about it.” The older man said, winking as if he’s doing Regulus a solid.

 

Regulus gulped and nodded. If he hadn’t been so stupidly paranoid he could’ve just let the notebook stay in the room of requirement since he’s been writing in the secret lettering his friend group made. Regulus could just zap himself, but the chain around his waist over his only slightly healed charred skin was inflicting enough pain already.

 

Regulus was barely there, half his mind trying to find a good excuse to miss dinner after missing only lunch, from what they know, the other half throwing simple healing spells at his waist without moving his mouth and keeping his wand in his pocket. The principal didn’t seem to mind the quiet on Regulus’ side.

 

The younger had tried to figure out where he felt pain when he tried to destroy the horcrux, but it was not something that spread throughout his body. It was like hitting the ground after falling off a broom. All air was pushed from his lungs for a second before the pain even registered and by that time it had already spread everywhere.

 

His body was still slightly aching from that, or from not eating anything all day, or from literally anything he did or didn’t do today.

 

“Well, we’re here. Now shoo, I trust Horace will give you the results of the test tomorrow. Good luck now already”, he laughed and pat Regulus’ back before he strode up to the teachers table. 

 

Regulus walked stiffly to the very end of the Slytherin table, the closest to the door, and sat down, shuffling as close to the table as he could to press the notebook into his chest. He looked around, seeing kids and teenagers from all years strewn around, talking and eating with each other. And no sign of unnecessarily soft looking curls around him. Regulus sighed and relaxed a bit before he loaded some tomatoes and olives on his plate, a handful of roasted sunflower seeds that made the crow part of his brain salivate, and a good amount of roasted potatoes.

 

He started to munch on the tomatoes first, like this he could pretend that Barty was yelling at Evan as he leaned on Regulus’ shoulder just to be able to crawl up and use Regulus’ shoulder as a help to heave himself up and over Regulus’ head to be able to look at Evan directly, while the blonde stuck his tongue out in a childish way to annoy Barty back while Dorcas shook her head in exasperation as Pandora came over to nudge the flames ignited in Barty to argue before she sat down at the Ravenclaw table again.

 

Regulus’ grip on his fork tightened. He’ll find a way to destroy that stupid horcrux and find a way back.

 

A heat too painful to ignore ripped him out of his fantasy.

 

“Ah, hello, didn’t expect to see you here, Blake.” Speak of the devil.

 

Regulus bittersweet mood just turned fully bitter.

 

The black and white haired one pulled off the brightest of smiles he could pull off. 

 

“Heya lil Thommy”, if that fucker wanted to talk to him with witnesses around, then he would have to deal with nicknames. The others smile sharpened into something more agitated. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Regulus tilted his head to the side. “You look a bit constipated”, Regulus felt grateful for having Barty and Sirius growing up, or else he’d be mortified. He repeatedly told himself that this version of Voldemort is nothing but a little psychopath that may or may not have a lot of influence at the moment, but he also played the part of the perfect prefect around Hogwarts. So he could do some revenge for Kreacher with his words until Riddle cast the first spell.

 

“Oh, do I?”, the strain in his voice was barely there, but Regulus has seen how well his older version managed to mask those emotions, this was kids play in comparison.

 

Regulus shoved a spoon of seeds into his mouth before standing up abruptly and staring straight into the others eyes. The colour seemed darker, and he seemed too pale for someone who has had a healthy blood flow just a few hours ago when they last met.

 

Ah.

 

Riddle also got affected.

 

Regulus smiled with his mouth full and just nodded the taller one goodbye before strutting out of the great hall.

 

What the future dark lord even tried to achieve with that chat, Regulus didn’t know.

 

 

 

Chapter 14: Anger Issues

Summary:

Reg: Get tf away from me or else
Tom: no :)
Reg: *does the or else*
Tom: ;)

 

 

Regulus went to bed as soon as he entered his dorm room. He jumped onto the bed and rolled around until he hit the bedside drawer. It vibrated for a second before opening for Regulus, his notes loosely shoved inside of it. He took the older pages out of his drawers and shoved them inside of his notebook before closing it and using his wand to engrave the number one on the cover before throwing it inside the drawer again. 

 

Alright, Regulus needs to go get his priorities in check.

 

He needed to find a way to stay away from Riddle for good, or at least limit the amount of contact with him. 

 

If Regulus wanted to study the horcrux in peace without turning into a baked potato, he would need to run the moment the locket started to warm up.

 

Regulus looked down at his body, lifting the pullover as he stared at the scorched skin of his waist and stomach, not even wanting to see how badly burned the skin on his back was, since the chain has been trying to cut through him every time the future dark lord was near him, almost as if it wanted to reach the younger version of its soul… Regulus opened the drawer again and threw the leather bound notebook onto the desk to his far left before he snatched his quill and some ink and plopped down on the chair in front of the table.

 

There goes nothing, the only way to even come close to figuring anything out was to write down everything he knew, to connect everything and throw anything else away.

 

He needed to find a way to get rid of this cursed thing before the holidays were over, or else his upper body and lower body would resemble nearly headless Nick a bit too much for Regulus’ liking. Riddle would be with Regulus in the same classroom, and Regulus didn’t even find a way to heal himself properly. Those burns on his skin were infested with dark magic, of that he was pretty sure. 

 

Just like the inferi scars.

 

There has to be something to speed up the healing process. Regulus’ body morphed back to it’s original form. He stared at the scars trailing down his arms, legs, torso and even touched the ones from the corners of his eyes to his ears.

 

He scowled at his hair that had grown quite a bit, he would have to cut it again, he hates something touching his neck that he has no control over, the wisps of his now longer locks curling around his throat as well, giving him the impression of cold, dead fingertips trying to get him underwater.

 

Wet.

 

Cold.

 

He was going to tie his own hair up for the time being. Regulus couldn’t handle this right now, next to the shit show that was his life at the moment.

 

Regulus wrist flicked as he transfigured a piece of the mahogany that the table was made of into a hair tie and tied his hair the way his cousin used to, before she married Lucius.

 

Fuck, Regulus just remembered that he was going to be stuck with that guys father in a dorm. Regulus was not sure if three weeks were enough to emotionally prepare himself for this

 

The more Regulus wrote the more he lost his sense of time. He started ripping out some pages and putting them into piles, others he left inside of the notebook and others he threw behind his back and cast a small incendio in his mind.

 

Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours as Regulus wrote down every single thought that came to mind. All in hopes of clearing something, anything, up.

 

———

 

Regulus groaned as his stomach growled for the fourth time that night.

 

He set the quill aside and called all his notes together with a quick accio. Some flew out from underneath his bed, others just lifted themselves a few centimeters off the ground into his hand. The moment all of those papers were together in his hand he shoved them back inside of the drawer alongside the notebook and snatched his wand off the bed. 

 

“Maybe I’ll meet Daisy again”, Regulus tried to cheer himself up as he stepped out of his room.

 

Regulus stopped in his tracks.

 

“You have got to be kidding me…”, Regulus contemplated turning back around and pretend he never felt the locket get warmer.

 

Sadly, a quick tempus showed Regulus that it was time to go to Breakfast, or else he would not get his schedule, and some of the teachers might get the idea that he felt bad for eating without paying, like they thought he was scared of the school costs. 

 

Regulus murmured a quiet ‘putain’ before casting a cooling spell on his body that should last for the two minutes it took for him to go down the hallway, enter the common room and get out of that part of the dungeons. He could do this, right?

 

His steps were quick and long, not long enough. Why couldn’t he have made himself taller, rather than shorter than his original form. He was so, so stupid. Maybe he’ll have a sudden growth spurt-

 

His body froze as a hand grabbed the front of his pullover and made him almost fall over with its surprising strength holding him in place.

 

Hazel eyes met brown ones, the lower eyelid twitching.

 

The small dark lord thinks he is angry? Oh, he hasn’t even met Regulus yet.

 

“Listen here, Blake, yo-“, a fist flew towards the existing nose before the brunette even managed to finish his sentence.

 

The hand on Regulus’ pullover let go and flew up to Riddles face as he gasped, but Regulus wasn’t done.

 

All of this was Voldemorts fault.

 

His parents talking about a grand promised future the dark lord could make true.

 

Punch.

 

His brother looking at him as if an eleven year old child was about to torment muggle-born children the way they were tortured just because he is stuck in the house that produced the darkest wizard of their time, or better said their parents time.

 

Punch.

 

Barty’s crazy flicker becoming a permanent glaze upon his eyes, as the bodies at his feet kept piling up, those eyes looking for any kind of attention his father had never given him, be it good or bad.

 

Punch.

 

The dark circles under Evan’s eyes deepening, his eyes flying from side to side just to never open his mouth about anything anymore.

 

Punch.

 

Dorcas talking less and less to them, wishing them luck as she graduated with pity in her eyes, knowing that if she‘ll ever see them again it would be on opposite sides of a war.

 

Punch.

 

Pandora crying in his arms as she’s loosing her brother, her friends, her family and there was nothing she could do to save them from the war, feeling guilty for trying to find love away from all of this despair.

 

Punch.

 

Kreacher, his real parent, on the floor, coughing up blood and water, begging Regulus to ignore his sorry state, as if it were his fault that he had to drink poison.

 

Punch.

 

Water.

 

Punch.

 

Cold.

 

Punch.

 

Blood.

 

Punch.

 

Screams.

 

Punch.

 

Punch.

 

Punch.

 

Regulus had never felt this clearheaded before.

 

Regulus knew madness.

 

Regulus grew up seeing it in everyone’s eyes.

 

This was not it.

 

This was fully unbridled fury.

 

This was a Storm.

 

Regulus punched the future dark lord one last time before standing up. He didn’t even realize that he had tackled Riddle, or did he not do that? Did the taller boy fall back because of the intensity of the punches? Regulus also doesn’t remember straddling the brunettes chest as he repeatedly made sure that Riddle had chosen the wrong person to hurt.

 

Regulus was now standing above Riddle, one leg set to either side of the others upper body. He scoffed, brushed some of the blood on his knuckles off on his already dark pullover and stepped over the mini mass murderers still limp body whose brown eyes were following his every move.

 

“Instead of lecturing me about not listening, you should figure out how to use your own ears first, Riddle”, spat Regulus. He had warned the other teenager to not touch him, this was the consequence.

 

Regulus left the common room, not seeing the way those brown eyes crinkled at the corners.

 

———

 

Regulus was thinking of dunking his right hand into a canister full of ice. 

 

Who knew that the nose of a noseless annoyance would be this hard? He didn’t. Of course, Barty’s nose was harder, so its not something he hadn’t felt before in his now sixteen year old body, but still.

 

Regulus had tugged so often on the sleeves of his pullover, that they now covered his hands fully. Although his anger was now waning to the back of his mind, with a bit of help with some mind magic, he realized that he had perhaps blown up on the mini dark lord a bit too early in his stay here.

 

The white tips of his hair were shaking along with his head movement. There’s nothing he can do now.

 

If Riddle wants to kill him then whatever, he already lost everything. 

 

If Riddle wanted to ridicule him then he could, since Regulus was trying to get better at reacting to criticism from people anyway. The only reason that he still acted in front of the teachers was because he would rather blend in with the background than be pulled into another war.

 

If Riddle wanted to hurt him?

 

Regulus would hurt him right back. Regulus had not survived the torture of that house just to get tortured by someone younger than him, even if it was only younger by months. That much pride he still had left.

 

He arrived in the great hall and took a seat at the empty Slytherin table, loaded some slices of garlic bread, a few cherry tomatoes and a handful of sunflower seeds onto his plate. Another handful of seeds got shoved into a pocket, which made the crow part of his brain coo.

 

There was a small cough around five meters to the side, after he had a few minutes of serenity while he was eating. Regulus had heard the footsteps before they even got close, since apparently only two people liked to sneak up on others in this school. Now, if only those two would learn manners…

 

Regulus looked up and greeted the potions master with a smile.

 

“I’m sorry to bother you while you’re eating Blake, but I think you would appreciate getting your schedule right away”, said the professor with a tired but kind smile.

 

“Thank you, Professor Slughorn”, said Regulus, taking the paper handed to him and skimming through it.

 

“Most of the teachers thought you adequate enough to join the year without any pre-term-classes, some others just wanted to make sure you could keep up with their way of teaching, if any of the teachers, whose names you find right next to the subject on your schedule, dismiss you from those classes the name and class will automatically fade away from the paper, so do check up on your schedule every once in a while, alright?” Regulus just nodded and searched for the first class that day. 

 

Of course.

 

Dumbledore.

 

Maybe he should’ve done better during the transfiguration exam.

 

 

Notes:

Bruh couldn’t go to my normal place where I usually write so this took a bit longer but hey at least it‘s done and I can get back to that place on Monday so *insert a breakdance sequence*

Chapter 15: Real Talk About Privacy

Summary:

Dumbledore: :D

Reg: -_-

Tom: >:(

 

Regulus wondered if it were socially acceptable to jump out of the window of the transfiguration classroom window right now.

 

If it were to be McGonagall he might still be interested in trying to listen to the lecture, since her voice was very calming. He didn’t feel stupid for asking questions in her classes. She only gave concise answers to the specific question he asked. She wouldn’t start going on and on about what or why something happened, she would just accept that he had only a bit of difficulty about the specific thing he asked clarification on and would accept it.

 

Unlike professor Dumbledore who, just like his parents, has to repeat everything at least three times with just different words for no reason. It was getting on Regulus’ last nerve. Of course, the professor who tried to invade his mind first would also be the same guy that would make him almost to die of boredom.

 

Regulus still took notes, like any good student would, but did he also draw small caricatures of his friends, roasting the older man the way he imagined they most definitely would? Yes.

 

“Mister Zwezdochka, are you listening to me? I get that your passion is important but I would like to interact with you, not just lecture you while your brain doesn’t comprehend anything.”

 

Regulus’ eye twitched. “I assure you, Professor, I have understood and heard everything you just repeated around three times.” The muscles in his legs tensed up, shit. He talked back to an authority figure.

 

The older mans eyebrows raised a bit before an amused glint sneaked into his eyes.

 

“Now, tell me my boy, why didn’t you say so earlier? If you already understood the lesson why would you put up with me repeating it? I thought you didn’t quite understand what I was saying since you just kept on writing, I’m sorry for not noticing sooner, but do feel free to interrupt me in future sessions. I can get carried away sometimes so I appreciate your honesty.”

 

What.

 

Regulus was never met with a positive reaction to his snide remarks aside from his friends, especially not from someone who could make his life a living hell.

 

His own eyebrows raised to the point where they disappeared underneath his bangs. “Sureeeee”, Regulus looked back down on his notes.

 

“Stop Zwezdochka, lay that quill down”, said Professor Dumbledore as he leaned against the teachers table. Regulus does just that, looking up.

 

“It seems to me that you do not believe that you can talk your mind when it comes to me and my teaching.”

 

“Correct.”

 

“Then how about this: tell me everything you think about me. Every little thing, be it good or bad, and I won’t judge any of that. Maybe you will feel more confident in voicing your opinions and critique. I’m a professor,my boy, not a guard for Azkaban keeping you in a cell.”

 

Regulus was looking at his face, searching for any lies, slowly stretching his consciousness, using some legilimency to see if there is any sort of dishonesty in his statement.

 

There was none. How did this guy become the version he knew back in his timeline? When was the point in time where this man started caring less for the children under his care?

 

The black locks moved as Regulus sat up straighter. “You keep on trying to invade my mind even though I specifically made sure you felt my annoyance with you doing so. I appreciate my privacy, please respect that. You act as if I were not sixteen year old, but three. You have to teach me whatever you need to, that is something easy to understand, but never assume I do not get something just because I didn’t visibly react to whatever you were saying. If I have a question, I will make it clear, but do not assume I want more information than I asked for. If you do then I will start doodling again since what you are telling me is probably something you either already told me or something I already know. And don’t call me ‘my boy’, you may not realize it but it’s honest to Merlin weird to a degree where I feel grossed out. My parents died a few months ago, less than half a year ago and I have been living with nothing but scraps, as you most probably already know since the acceptance letter was issued to the woods I was camping in, and you calling me ‘my boy’ is just insensitive and makes you look less genuine and friendly than a boggart”, Regulus finished with a huff.

 

Professor Dumbledores eyebrows stayed up for the duration of the rant before he started laughing heartedly.

 

Regulus tutted and looked back at his notes.

 

“No, no, do not take this the wrong way- haha, I’ve just never gotten This hard of a feedback since- hahaha well it doesn’t matter you-you don’t hold back, do you?”, he snickered some more.

 

“Of course not, you told me not to? At least that’s what I understood.” Regulus was confused and getting tired of this conversation real quick.

 

“Brilliant, I’ll try to better myself in future lessons based on your feedback, thank you.”

 

“Oh, no, apply the first thing on your every day life, not just during our lessons. Keep your legilimency out of my mind space”, Regulus sighed, shaking his head.

 

The elder chuckled and muttered something that sounded like an agreement before he returned to the blackboard.

 

Maybe Regulus could go through those few years without jumping out of a window.

 

———

 

Regulus took that statement back.

 

He was standing outside of the door for the great hall once again, with a teacher. Apparently this Professor Merrythought was his last destination before twelve o’clock -which did not bode well for his need to slip into the room of requirements to try a different approach to destroy the locket- who wanted to make sure that he didn’t overwork himself after denying taking a break yesterday to eat. 

 

So here he was now, hesitating for a moment to go inside as the doors were held open for him. He sucked in a deep breath and put a silent chill charm over his waist, hoping that that would be enough if he kept his distance.

 

“Thank you, Professor”, muttered Regulus as he waved the elderly woman goodbye and turned towards the Slytherin table.

 

…this was getting ridiculous.

 

There was a crowd of students at the very end of the Slytherin table. Where he had planned on sitting. In the middle of it all? Riddle of course, with a plaster on his nose.

 

“Oh no, poor you, how did you not break anything else?” 

 

“Madam Weasley must have locked you up in the hospital wing the whole morning, to fall down a flight of stairs a day of Christmas Eve? 

 

“This just sounds like a terrible omen.”

 

“Are you sure you’re fit enough to be walking around already?”

 

“Nooo your beautiful face is bruised now.”

 

How popular was this guy? Well no wonder he didn’t fight back then, he was an attention whore back in Regulus’ timeline and he was one in this, who’s surprised. Why would he tell everyone that he fell down the stairs though? Regulus had to roll his eyes as he went around the crowd, pressed against the wall to blend into the background as much as he can, and to not make the heat from the chain rise in temperature any more than it has to.

 

With that in mind he sat himself at the other end of the table, shoving some figs and sausages onto his plate.

 

…Did no one even think that Riddles smile was weird? It never went past a certain point and his eyes didn’t seem to move whenever the corners of his mouth would lift, instead they would look like dead fish until someone annoy him the he would look at them the way he looked at Regulus yesterday for calling him Tommy. His facial expressions were all just copies of each other, his chuckles too practiced and monotone and his assurances to the people that seemed to genuinelycare in the crowd sounded more fake than the stair thing he used to excuse his healing, but very obviously broken nose.

 

The crowd dispersed after some time and went to their own buffets. Regulus didn’t have to glance over at Riddle every five minutes or so either, since he shut off the chilling charm and the locket hadn’t gotten any hotter in the interim.

 

He however felt the other staring. Maybe he wanted to get punched again?

 

Regulus ate his last fig, ready to stand up when the hand slammed itself against his mental wall. He has to stop himself from actually standing up and throwing an egg at the brunette. The locket started to heat up at the presence of Voldemort's younger mind being so close by. Regulus made sure that his occlumency was well in tact before he stood up and walked towards the door that could get him away from Riddles eyes, his walk forcibly relaxed, pointedly ignoring the only other Slytherin in the room.

 

Then, just as he reached Riddles destination he grabbed the others hand in his mind and flung it out, using as much force as he imagined his punches must’ve had. Regulus didn’t stop walking, even after he heard an utensil hit the hard mahogany.

 

 

Notes:

Uhhh so, LESS THAN THREE WEEKS TO GO (School should start on the 11 January if im getting the dates right)

Chapter 16: CHRISTMAS!!

Summary:

Reg: what’s this?
Sluggy: someone paying attention to the stuff ur good at?
Reg: :‘) oh.

 

 

Regulus tried to find a pattern in Riddles attempts to get into his head.

 

It was around nine at night as Regulus started a list on that in his dorm.

 

The first few times seemed to have been out of pure curiosity, trying to figure out who he was, the last ones were definitely to see some kind of reaction out of him, thats why the didn't try anything when Regulus was already beating him.

 

HOW the mini dark lord found out where Regulus’ mind was on the first day though, was still a mystery… “No, don’t tell me that-“, Regulus picked the locket off his bed and looked at it. Could it be that the dark lord could feel it? Did he feel the dark magic coming off of it or his own, more mature soul?

 

Yes, Regulus could feel a bit of dark energy emanating off of it, but only after touching it.

 

If his theory that Voldemort managed to feel a part of his soul that shouldn’t exist from probably across the whole castle was correct, then there would be a chance that Regulus could feel it as well.

 

Regulus turned around in his seat and threw the locket somewhere behind of him, eyes closed. If this little experiment worked, then he’d also confirm his theory of his own soul splitting. Regulus came to the conclusion that he must’ve split his soul after dying himself. Maybe he was the one he had ‘killed’ to get whatever was needed to set the horcrux making in motion, that however did not explain how he time traveled, or dimension travelled so he was a bit skeptical. Or maybe he just couldn’t come to a good enough theory yet.

 

Regulus kept his eyes closed as he started expanding his minds walls, feeling the room for any other minds, souls, anything.

 

…There was something. A red flicker. He could hear something hissing, something dragging over the floor, something heavy- No, wait, it’s changing? It’s turning green? Fluttering wings, crashing waves- Why is it changing again? The flicker didn’t change by size or by brightness, but it changed its colour and the sound surrounding it.

 

Regulus stood up from his sitting position and followed the small light in the darkness of his closed eyes. 

 

“Ah-“, Regulus managed to shove his knee into something hard, stretched his hands out and  felt around for the end of the object, then went around it and stepped closer to the light. He bent down and yes, the cold of the locket pierced his fingertips. The now red flicker didn’t change for a few seconds, a few seconds longer than before, and a few more. Regulus retrieved his hand, no longer touching the locket.

 

There it was, it turned green again, then red again.

 

Regulus opened his eyes and snatched the cursed little thing off the ground. 

 

Well, time to write everything that just happened down.

 

———

 

It was now what, six in the morning? Regulus turned his tired eyes to the side, using a tempus to check in.

 

He was right it was around six forty in the morning, so he put his hand on his thigh and shocked himself awake again. Maybe a snack wouldn’t hurt, he could really do with seeing Daisy again and talk with them.

 

So, Regulus clasped the locket around his waist, changed into one of his deep red pullovers he transfigured out of a tree stump -he managed to make three of the red ones back in the woods- and put a cleaning spell on his black trousers, took a few sunflower seeds out of his small pocket stash and nibbled on them as he walked out of his room.

 

There it was, the heat around his waist. At least he was prepared this time and managed to put the chilling charm between the silver chain and his recovering skin as he walked down the hallway.

 

“Ah! Young Blake! You’re awake already, come, come here”, Regulus was surprised to see Professor Slughorn in the common room area, next to the tall pine tree close to the sofas that had silver and emerald green decorations now, unlike yesterday. White tips moved sideways as Regulus tilted his head before he ended up walking to the potions master anyway. 

 

“Sit down, sit down, we’re still waiting for Tom”, the head of the house let out an excited grin, one Regulus rarely saw after more and more children started talking about the war so openly. 

 

Fuck. Regulus completely forgot to ask about horcruxes and Riddle… well he’s sure he needs some more weeks of bonding to make that even an option without his professor freaking out about anything related to dark magic, like he used to back in Regulus’ time.

 

“Why would we be waiting for him? Have you planned something for today, because I’m sorry to inform you Sir, but I’m quite sure that my schedule still says that I’m to be in a class at eight, so you should probably inform Professor Kettleburn at breakfast if that is the case”, the older man was already shaking his head and waving his hand around in a dismissive but not unkind way while he was sat on one of the padded chairs.

 

“No, no Blake, you see there is a small tradition that I have started for all of the children in my house that are spending the festive days in school, whatever the reason may be”, he nudged his head to the side towards the tree. Regulus raised a brow and looked back, trying to figure out what was so special about that tree.

 

Up.

 

Down.

 

Up.

 

Down. Hold on, there were two small packages underneath the branches.

 

“What are those?” The question slipped out before Regulus had the chance to hold his tongue.

 

“Well, those are presents”, said professor Slughorn, matter of fact-ly, a curious tilt in his voice.

 

“I can see that, but what are they doing under a tree? What if someone stepped on them? Or kicked them because they are underneath that tree?” Regulus was absolutely baffled at his professor’s decisions.

 

The elder blinked a few times, then in a careful voice asked: “Have you ever gotten Christmas presents, Blake?”

 

What in Merlin was even a ‘Christmas’. He vaguely remembered his brother raving abut it when Regulus was still ten years old, saying that that his friends were doing it, and maybe he talked about getting gifts?  There was nothing definite shape or memory in his mind about it. Though he guessed it was another way of calling it Yule.

 

“I don’t think so? I also never put anything under trees aside from stuff I wanted to hide from my parents perhaps, but those were buried under the soil and not so out in the open”, Regulus enunciated the last part with some waving of both of his hands in the general direction of the presents.

 

“Oh, well, no, well, you see, Christmas is kind of like Yule? But with a few different traditions and those presents on the floor are part of those traditions, I honestly just heard about it from one of my students and thought it might bring some cheer into this house!”, Regulus could see pity in his eyes, so he just nodded.

 

“Wow, Professor you’re up this early? Are you sure that Santa was able to come with you here?”, ah, there it was, the reason to the now warm locket, even with the chilling spell.

 

Hold on, Santa?

 

“Oh yes, Tom, I’ve already checked, he visited us, seems like the both of you have been jot down on the ‘nice list’”, said Professor Slughorn, clapping his hands together in a cheery manner.

 

Regulus was now even more confused. He blinked a few times, trying to not get too curious just yet, he’ll have to research this muggle tradition later.

 

“Brilliant, I hope that Santa could get me something useful like last year”, said the taller teenager with that same monotone voice that made Regulus question if everyone just seemed to ignore the dishonest reactions, before he knelt to the ground and pulled both of the presents out from underneath the tree.

 

“Here, it says from Santa to Blake”, said the other, handing Regulus the small wrapped package.

 

Regulus almost dropped it since Riddle basically shoved it into his hands. Well, that was the only way Regulus would’ve accepted the present. He would rather choke on amoretia and burn to death in a fire than accept another present from the dark lord or the small version of him, be it a cursed tattoo or a weirdly wrapped present he got from underneath a tree.

 

That present was from Santa apparently though, and if Regulus had to guess, -by the small piece of tape he managed to see on his Professor’s  hems of his trousers- it was probably just Professor Slughorn that got those presents for the two teenagers.

 

Regulus opened the wrapping material with care, slowly and cleanly pulling the tapes off. He stuck his hand between an overlap of the gift wrapper and pulled the green and red paper away, after he made sure that he could open the present without ripping anything. 

 

Regulus blinked a few times, surprised to see a cauldron with a few glass vials inside of it. This… was surprisingly useful, Regulus might be able to sleep for more than two hours at a time for a few weeks if he managed to fill all of those vials with the potion of dreamless sleep. Regulus’ fingers twitched as he held the cauldron gently.

 

“This is exactly what I wanted”, Regulus smiled his Sirius approved smile, already yearning for a good nights rest, instead of passing out after Merlin knows how long.

 

“Oh, how swell, good thing that Santa managed to find something you like.”

 

At least Professor Slughorn tried to act like he didn't get them the gifts, it was kind of sweet. If Regulus had known that he could have this calm of Yule holidays, he would’ve told his parents that he broke his spine at the last practice before the holidays.

 

Or maybe that he lost an arm.

 

Whatever would get him to get thoughtful presents from one of the few teachers he liked during the days he’d have to wear triple layered restrictive clothing.

 

“And what did you get, Tom?”, asked the elder as he looked over to the taller of the two teenagers.

 

“A leather bound notebook with my name engraved in gold lettering”

 

Regulus stopped all of his movement, even his breathing as his eyes traveled upwards.

 

There was no question about it.

 

‘Tom Marvolo Riddle’ was engraved in the thin black notebook.

 

The same thickness and colour as the one Regulus found in the Malfoy manor a week before he went into the cave, but the future counterpart of that notebook was blank.

 

Regulus’ fingers twitched, ready to write and connect a page full of notes with another one.

 

 

Chapter 17: New Friend? Maybe?

Summary:

Reg: u good?
Myrtle: DO I LOOK OK?!
Reg:*akwardly shuffles to the side*

 

Well, this was quite awkward, Regulus thought as he was standing in an almost empty corner of the library he had frequented in the past few days, flying in there and avoiding Riddle.

 

Almost empty because there was a girl, crying. Regulus was not good with comforting. He had never been comforted in a way that he would have preferred. It was usually a small flicker of a crucio that he got or jokes his friends made to lighten the mood. He however was quite sure that neither of those were viable options for the girl clad in blue robes.

 

Should he just turn around and go back to his dorm?

 

He would usually go to the room of requirements at night but Regulus might manage to sneak in that day. No one would question a crow flying around inside of the castle, right?

 

Just as he was about to turn around and walk off he heard another sob and suddenly the girl started talking.

 

“What are ya staring at? If you’re going to throw a book at me do it, you coward! Oohhhh or am I too weird for that too now? Waaa! Maybe Hornby set you up to this you meanieee waaa”, and she started crying again. Regulus was taken aback at those words and just tilted his head to the side, looked to his left, then to his right and back.

 

Was she talking to him? Why would he throw a book at her? He would never hurt a book like that. He also had no idea who she was. If she had been someone’s parent he knew, like Dorcas’ mum he might’ve considered a hex since she tried to marry Cass off to some rich guy she never liked right before Dorcas graduated, even though everyone with functioning eyes could see that the oldest of his friend group fancied girls. Regulus was happy that Dorcas could escape that through the order and disappointing her parents. Her mum was barely in his friends life and his friend managed to live quite happily so Regulus wouldn’t do anything too drastic if he ever got the chance to meet the younger version of Dorcas’ mum.

 

And who was Hornby? He couldn’t quite remember such a name ever being relevant in his timeline.

 

This girl however did not carry the same magical signature as anyone he’s ever met before, so he isn’t quite sure as to why she thought he would terrorize her.

 

Regulus took a seed out of his pocket and transfigured it into a napkin. He froze and after a minute of thinking it over he transfigured some more napkins before stretching his hand out with the napkins.

 

Maybe acting like Barty would help? He seemed to be popular enough through his personality?

 

“Girl, I don’t even know you, why would I bully you?” Maybe he should’ve said it with Barty’s usual dramatic and flare, because apparently Regulus’ usual way of speaking seemed to not make whatever has been saddening her any better, it actually got worse.

 

“I’m not even worth bullying anymore! You said it like you were disgusted with the thought of bullying ME. Waaaa waaa”, the girl continued to cry.

 

What was this kid’s problem? He was pretty sure she was younger than him at this point. Finally, she looked up so she could see the napkins he’s been holding out for her.

 

Wait a Circe be damned minute, that was moaning Myrtle! But she was alive?? She looked just like her ghost though, not a day older.

 

Regulus knew that the ghost died around the same time that his parents went to school, but he never expected to actually walk into her. 

 

“Uh, are you alright?”, Regulus actually tried to sound more empathetic than before, he also cringed at the same time since he figured that saying something like that right after he saw her sob her soul out was probably not a smart idea. Oh well.

 

“Do I look alright?! Who even are you? I thought everyone from your house already-“, blows her one on a napkin, ”-went back to your family to celebrate with them? Well aside from that tall handsome fella”, she looked down to the side with a blush.

 

…Regulus was two seconds away from telling her to raise her standards but he bit his tongue.

 

He understood that Riddle could look like a handsome, charismatic lad more than anyone. He managed to convince most of the pure-blood families to join his cause by the time they exited Hogwarts. Of course some or even multiple people harbored crushes on him, especially since he does look human now, and less like a snake.

 

“I’m Zwezdochka, Blake Zwezdochka. I’ve arrived around a week ago? I honestly don’t know who you are or who that Hornby person you were talking about is, but if you wanna talk about it I would be doing some reading here so, I probably won’t recall most of it afterwards anyway”, Regulus shrugged, then he sat himself on the ground and bent over his notebook as he started to write.

 

“Well, you know, there’s this girl and she’s just so mean to me, like, why does she not like my glasses? It’s not like I can change my prescription! She’s such an arse. And I can’t even fight back because she would snitch and nobody likes me so if she would snitch then no one would believe me when I try to explain why I did it! She and the others already make fun of me enough but it got so much worse for a few weeks after the first time I told professor Binns, and now I’m too scared to tell any other teacher about it because I do NOT want to get my face dunked into the toilets again. I usually cry in the bathrooms, imagine if I had to go through multiple weeks where my face would get dunked there! I would never feel safe again to cry there! Ugh, and they usually go home during these holidays but apparently not this timeee, like why? The other girls bullying me aren’t that bad compared to Hornby but they are still so mean! I mean I’m pretty, right? Wait don’t answer that-“

 

Regulus just tuned out whatever she said afterwards. 

 

Myrtle was going to die in a few months. She was going to die and Regulus knew where she would die, everyone who tried to find some peace in the girls bathroom -aka his whole friend group- knew where she died, because she wouldn’t stop talking about it.

 

Regulus needs to find out how, why he managed to go back in time just before she died and right on time to see a normal notebook that Riddle was probably going to write in, not have any writing and end up in the Malfoy manner in the future.

 

Regulus was sure that everything had to be connected.

 

Somehow…

 

Regulus gulped… It couldn’t be that Riddle had something to do with that child’s death? 

 

Who was he kidding, he had most definitely some part in it. Regulus was just slightly anxious thinking about the implications of that.

 

At the age of sixteen? How did nobody even find a trace of Riddle on the case of Myrtle, to the point where not even the ghost herself knew what killed her, since she never mentioned it.

 

Regulus jotted the theory down. If he was correct that killing Myrtle would’ve been enough of a sacrifice for Riddle to create a horcrux, then he would need to speed up his process on the horcrux hunt and how to destroy the one hanging on his waist.

 

 

Notes:

Regulus is getting STRESSED over here, at least he has a few more days before the others come.(wish him well, he will suffer mentally)

Chapter 18: Of Experiments and Birthdays

Summary:

No one:
Absolutely no one:
Tom: I have a plan mayhaps
Reg: no >:(

 

Every time Riddle tried to invade Regulus’ mind in the past few days, Regulus just shoved him aside or at the very least let him into his meditative state. Of course, he was surprised to see that there was no more force behind it, weirdly. Instead he was now just touching his mind’s walls, almost leaning against it? 

 

It was just weird , especially since Regulus got used to the forceful hand just trying to shove itself inside, unlike the passive existence close by. 

 

It made his life easier for Regulus, basically, since his minds walls are usually on high alert anyway, thanks to his mother and father snooping around in there ever since he could form a coherent thought. With that being said, it was quite a few relaxing days after the first rocky start. Regulus also found out that the heat of the locket didn’t matter, as long as he was in his animagus form, so if some kids saw a crow just sitting around while walking from one place to the other, they minded their business.

 

As long as Regulus managed to go out of his dorm before Riddle does, grabs most of his meals directly from the kitchens, holes himself in his corner of the library and usually goes to the room of requirements just to write down anything new he found in the meantime or just some spell experiments.

 

He even tested and perfected every single one of his fiendfyre variations.

 

Just… Against the wall since he still couldn’t figure out how to not get hurt himself while he was burning the locket to a crisp.

 

Regulus figured out that if he were to choose one of his theories as the most plausible it would be the one where his would go split because he was actually supposed to die, and it apparently just latched on to the closest object, the locket that Regulus still had in hand. Now to the more difficult part of the theory, he just hoped that he was wrong but it would make too much sense to be wrong. That tiny piece of Voldemort’s soul that was put inside of the locket -after having, as far as he most definitely knows, split his soul at least two times before- was searching for more of it’s own soul. Regulus thought that the sudden intrusion of his own soul into the locket would’ve destabilized the balance that the locket had. It was no longer alone but with another part of the soul, and since Regulus’ soul has never been split before the concentration of his piece was probably taking up more space within that small object. So, as a desperate attempt to balance everything out again, the locket went back to the space and time where it could compensate for it’s small presence the most, right before Voldemort split his soul for the first time. 

 

Regulus would have to read in the restricted section of the library again. Of course he read his fair share of books there in his years at Hogwarts, but there’s still a possibility that he might’ve overlooked something that dark or that book could’ve even been taken off the shelves completely after another war happened.

 

Regulus sighed as he felt the others presence back at his walls, too tired to do anything as he just threw the ingredients for the potion of dreamless sleep into his now new cauldron. He could sleep for at least two weeks after this. 

 

At last.

 

If anyone were to look, and knew the castle to a T, they would find him in the room of requirements, now a bit different than what he started off with.

 

The walls were covered with notes, all written down in a writing that no one aside from his friends from his timeline would understand. Those notes were pinned down with different coloured ropes, some connecting to multiple others were just connected to each other.

 

Regulus looked back to the ground directly against the walls, there was soil of around half a meter, and a lot of herbs and plants were growing out of them, he now also had a functioning potions lab in there, next to the stone table. He didn’t even have to steal anything, Regulus had realized when he thought about it after sleeping for five hours for once. 

 

So, here he was, brewing a potion he knew by heart because he had studied with Barty and Snape for both of their O.W.L.s and for Snape’s N.E.W.T.s. Regulus would just ask too many questions once he got into whatever he was studying so he is used to write all of his questions down and then ask anyone he trusts would answer those.

 

Well, most of his questions couldn’t be answered by people here without looking incriminating. So he just kept those questions, now not about potions anymore, but everything going on here, in his notes on the wall.

 

Regulus cast a quick tempus just to find out that it was close to midnight. 

 

He should probably get a move on, he wouldn’t want Professor Slughorn to worry that he never celebrated the new year along with never celebrating Christmas.

 

Regulus mumbled the names of the different ingredients as he put the last ones in and stirred it one final time, let it cool and poured everything that he managed to brew into the vials he got as a gift.

 

He quickly sealed the vials, put them in his pockets and walked out of the room, knowing that he could do so freely, since the new year’s celebrations was in the great hall and the teenagers that stayed would want to take any chance to stay up late and not be called to the dorms because of the curfew.

 

Regulus walked down the dimly lit hallway, thinking that he would just drop in on the last minute of the year, say some ‘happy new years’  to the people he knew. Myrtle would probably go to him and talk about how handsome Riddle was again, or the next crush she had, Regulus could never be sure. And then he’d be off to his room again, sleeping nightmare-less for the first time in months.

 

Regulus couldn’t care if he smiled and his stoic face was flushed with real happiness. He finally found something good in this timeline, aside from beating the future dark lord, and his pretty wand, even though he only used it for lethal spells like the fiendfyre now, he knew how to use almost all of his spells without a wand and without words now.

 

Regulus slowed down as he approached the gigantic doors leading to the great hall

 

“Just say hi, happy new year and go”, he muttered, not having the nerves to drink butterbeer and be stuck in a room with all those people.

 

The heat at his hip spiked, Regulus froze.

 

“So you won’t wish me a happy birthday?”

 

Regulus slowly turned…Why in Merlin’s name was Riddle in the hallway instead of inside the great hall?

 

Regulus just blinked at him. He knew that Riddle just wanted a reaction. He just had to ignore him until he turned away on his own as he usually did. That’s why Regulus turned back around towards the door and took the knob closest to him in his right hand.

 

Suddenly a hand placed itself on top of his own on the doorknob, and before Regulus even had time to snatch his hand away or throw a hex at mini Voldemort he got turned around by a shove on his shoulder, the same hand that shoved him grasped the wrist of the one free hand he still had and pinned it against the hard wood. Both of his feet were immobilized as the taller, and heavier one stepped on them with his own shoes.

 

Regulus gasped, trying to find a way to angle his right arm so that it won’t cramp up because of the positioning, then he looked up. Brown eyes were boring into his, that smirk that just asked for a beating in Regulus’ humble opinion still there.

 

“What?”, Regulus couldn’t beat him up in a place where he might be seen, especially not on such a joyous event. But he had invented some hexes he hasn’t tried out yet and was considering at the moment.

 

“What, ‘what’?”

 

…

 

If that smartarse wanted it that way then so be it.

 

Regulus’ eye twitched as he tried the needle hex that he was still trialing. Riddle flinched, to no one’s surprise, but instead of letting go his grip on Regulus got tighter, tight enough to bruise as he leaned forward and took a breath. Would Regulus get away with a self-defense claim if he managed to headbutt the taller’s nose, hopefully breaking it once again?

 

Regulus was mulling his options over. He had the time, first of all, the horcrux on his waist was going crazy again but he came prepared with a chilling charm on his body and he stuck the locket itself into the tiny pocket space of his trousers, so even if it wanted to move it couldn’t. Regulus could just hope that the anti-burn charms would hold. And second of all, his parents had done worse. His and Sirius’ wrists were almost constantly blue when they were kids. It only became better for Regulus after he started to just do as he’s told, even though it would hurt him.

 

Like that one time he was already feeling overwhelmed -because no one in that house ever knew how to deal with emotions- and almost cried as he put his clothes on, since those were custom made and the fabric was some weird stiff texture.

 

But he had to wear that.

 

He had to go to the annual ball of the House of Black, where everything was loud.

 

Too loud.

 

He couldn’t breathe but if he made a fool of himself or gods forbid, show how uncomfortable And scared he felt, then he would encounter much, much worse at home. 

 

So he became as invisible as he could. 

 

No one can realize that you’re a weak replacement of an heir if they never even see you aside from the courteous smiles, greetings and goodbye’s.

 

So yea, his body had been through worse, he had both the burn on his waist and the claw marks from the cave to show. Nothing from his oh so dear parents though, they liked to make it seem as if everything was alright in their parenting and that there was no need for any disciplinary actions.

 

Regulus just raised a haughty eyebrow, waiting for Riddle to get a move on.

 

“You really- won’t you wish the birthday kid a happy birthday?”

 

The arrogance of this man was astounding.

 

Is that why he pinned Regulus to a wall? To get a ‘Happy Birthday’? Hadn’t he gotten enough already? Regulus even saw his father’s owl, now younger and more lively, arrive at the owlery as he was flying around in his crow form.

 

Regulus clicked his tongue. The faster he got the taller off his back the faster he could reach his bed.

 

“Happy birthday, Riddle”, grumbled Regulus, rolling his eyes. How can one be THIS self-absorbed, was something Regulus had to think about most of the time when dealing with the young version of the dark lord.

 

…Riddle still didn’t let go.

 

“And?” The taller leaned in a bit more, his grin now triumphant.

 

Does he want a foot shoved up his arse? 

 

Regulus then realized that he probably wanted an apology for the face rearrangement that didn’t last. He could fix that.

 

Regulus practically threw his head against Riddle’s, hearing something snap. It could’ve very well been Regulus’ own arm since he was still restrained at an awkward angle, but that didn’t matter, what was important was that he could feel blood on his forehead.

 

And it was most definitely not his by the sound of gasping and splutters of blood hitting the ground. Regulus flickered his wrist and used expeliarmus on the teenager in front of him.

 

The other got flung against the wall opposite of where he had Regulu’s pinned against and coughed before he tried to scramble up. Regulus turned around immediately and ripped one of the doors open, just enough to slip inside of the great hall.

 

Riddle was too much of an annoyance to not want to shove away. At least that was what was going through Regulus’ mind as he started to walk along the wall, wiping his forehead of the blood, changing his skin tone into a warner undertone to blend in better with the lighting of the candles, as he walked to the edge of the crowd that was counting the seconds down. Some older teenagers were holding up some champagne, and the younger ones were ready to toast with their butterbeer or pumpkin juice. 

 

Regulus snatched a glass of water off of one of the tables and put his best smile on.

 

“Three”

 

“Two”

 

“ONE”

 

But before any glass could meet each other someone interrupted.

 

“Help! There was something in the hallways!”

 

 

 

Notes:

<33

Chapter 19: Not the Owl!?

Summary:

Reg: wtf dude*holds dead owl*
Tom: it’s just a baby*hides snake behind his back*
Dumbledore: y’all r sus
Everyone else: what’s going on atp

 

 

Regulus never, in a million years, could’ve imagined to start off his new year with a bloody nosed, teary eyed young Voldemort crashing though the doors of the great hall, screaming at the top of his lungs.

 

What.

 

The.

 

Fuck.

 

Regulus froze up, making sure that his metamorphed form didn’t show any signs of blood or swelling as he turned his whole body towards the doors, alongside the rest of the school.

 

“Tom!”, cried Professor Slughorn as he rushed to the red-faced teenager.

 

“What happened? Why are you hurt? What did you see?” He asked, arriving next to the shivering Riddle, looking over his body, making sure that he doesn’t need immediate medical attention.

 

“I was just walking back from getting the pepper up potions you told me to get”, he stuck his hands in his pockets, clearly shaking, the older wizard swatting his hand away and telling him to sit down.

 

“There, there was something, something heavy, and suddenly an owl! An owl fell to the ground right in front of me, and before I could take a closer look on the owl, I heard something dragging over the ground, something heavy. It was coming closer, right behind me, I just ran out of pure instinct and couldn’t stop when I had to turn and ran straight into a wall. It was fast. I thought that whatever was chasing me would be defeated easily by the teachers but…”, Riddle looked to his side, at the unmoving door.

 

What? What was Riddle pulling out of his arse?

 

Regulus could still feel his forehead throb from the impact of breaking the others nose again.

 

He couldn’t help but think that this was eccentric, even for the young dark lord. What was he thinking?

 

Some of the younger kids started crying, others just seemed confused and unnerved, looking to the teachers that are now in front of Riddle.

 

“Every head of the house should make sure that their students arrive safely back into their dorms. Madam Weasley, make sure young Riddle here is alright. The rest of the staff will go out right away to make sure the hallways are safe of whatever there was.” Regulus admired the immediate reaction of the Headmaster as he and a bunch of other teachers headed out of the hall.

 

Although, everything seemed a bit sketchy. 

 

Why would Riddle make up a whole monster story just to cover up Regulus’ headbutt? He could’ve pulled something similar like last time, acting as if he were some clutz again.

 

But he didn’t.

 

Why? Was it some sort of way to tell Regulus to cut it off with the bodily harm? That those stories would get more and more crazy until the Professors would figure out that he’s lying and notice that Regulus was the only one who could’ve done it, especially during the holidays ? Or a last warning before he told the teachers? But Regulus was quite sure that everything he did was in (an excessive way) self defense, or at least he had trust in himself that he would manage to convince enough of the teachers of that excuse to not get expelled before he found the rest of the future horcruxes.

 

“Blake, would you mind waiting with me? Just for a bit until Tom here is good to go”, asked Professor Slughorn.

 

Regulus just nodded and sat down on one of the benches in the great hall.

 

Myrtle made eye contact with him as she walked past and waved slightly, trying to smile but Regulus could see the fear in her eyes. He was too tired to smile the way he knew would make other people happy.

 

Something didn’t make sense and Regulus figured by now that he should’ve held back on the headbutt a few minutes prior or else Riddle wouldn’t have been taken as seriously as he did with a bloody nose.

 

Damn it. Now he had to sit around and wait for the brunette to get treated. Maybe Regulus should just hex him to the point of unconsciousness next time, if it ever came down to it.

 

Seconds turned to minutes and before Regulus could nod off a hand pat his shoulder. Regulus flinched and prepared multiple curses to throw at whoever decided to lay a hand on him before he realized that it was the potions master’s hand on his shoulder. 

 

“I’m sorry to disrupt your dozing off but we should be ready to go now, you can go directly to your room once we reach the Slytherin dorms though, alright?”, smiled the older man kindly.

 

Regulus just nodded, making it seem as if he hadn’t been in fight or flight mode just a second ago. 

 

“Of course”, nodded Regulus before he stood up, staring into space as his whole body just used all of the muscle memory he accumulated over his years in the castle.

 

His ears were ringing. 

 

Regulus tried to take deep breaths instead of shallow ones. His body was not working as it should, maybe he had overdone it with the sleepless nights…and days…and afternoons… In his defense, he would’ve been in bed and dead to the world by now if he hadn’t made Riddle’s nose into a mashed tomato just before the new year. Welp, his fingers were now shaking uncontrollably, his breath slowing down but still shallow to the point where a yawn forced itself out of Regulus’ mouth.

 

A gasp made it’s way to his ear and broke through his haze, his body stayed the same, calm but with a straight posture while he walks a few steps behind his superior, just like he had been drilled into before he even managed to form a coherent thought. 

 

Internally though Regulus sharpened his senses, his ears morphing into those of a cat beneath his hair. Circe, Regulus was happy that all his moping in the past few years made him desensitized to getting his hair wild and in his face, now no one would think twice if his hair looked a tad bit more fluffy than usual.

 

Or if it’s moving for some undisclosed reason.

 

„I thought it was just a myth-“ 

 

“Apparently not, professor. We need to inform every teacher, the parents, and of course the student body. Dumbledore, make sure that this is actually the owl’s blood and not some kind of sick joke.”

 

A loud squelch resounded on the sensitive membrane of Regulus’ cat ears. 

 

He gulped, practically imagining the small body lifting off the ground by a silent Wingardium Leviosa, it’s hollow bones sticking out of the blob of blood and muscles. He could even hear the few feathers that got loose but hadn’t dropped before slowly gliding to the floor into the small puddle of blood.

 

Regulus knew that his crow brain should be happy. Owls and crows were natural enemies after all, but all he could feel was disgust. 

 

Why would anyone even consider stealing something that was meant to fly off the sky, especially in such a brutal way. His eyes trailed to the side, looking the only other Slytherin student up and down, searching for his wand. He knew that the wand hadn’t shot an Avada Kedavra yet, he would’ve felt something. No one was the same after using any of the unforgivable curses. Regulus was just lucky that his change could be considered as change through puberty to anyone that tried to find something. He’s used far too many unforgivable curses to count at this point and had them used on him by his friends as well to withstand at the very least some time of torture if needed.

 

Be it at home or in the war.

 

Though now he supposed he wouldn’t have to use those skills until after around ten or more years. If he manages to destroy all of the horcruxes before then he would have to say that he’d never have to use them again.

 

Hooray.

 

“Should we wash this off? Or call the aurors first?”

 

The teacher’s voices became louder with every step.

 

“Let’s close this hallway off for students for now and inform the ministry as soon as we can- oh professor Slughorn! You’re finally here-”, Headmaster Dippet interrupted himself as he saw the two teenagers right behind their head of the house.

 

The whole hallway grew silent.

 

Well this was awkward- Regulus’ eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of the wall closest to the current headmaster.

 

Red.

 

Red.

 

Red.

 

RED.

 

‘The chamber of secrets has been opened.’

 

RED.

 

‘Enemies of the heir, beware.’

 

Beware.

 

RED.

 

Regulus stared at the writing, poker face in place as his insides started to churn.

 

Was this a warning to him specifically?

 

He had to gulp the stomach acid that threatened to sputter out of his mouth down. His parents never disclosed too much of their time in school to either of their children, but what he did know was that Riddle did something incredible in their school years to gain their respect and show his commitment to the cause he was promoting.

 

Regulus just never expected that they meant that Riddle managed to open a chamber that was supposed to be a MYTH with his heritage on the Slytherin name. With dread Regulus realized that his time was running out faster than he thought.

 

Up until that point he was sure he could use at the very least two years if not then more before Voldemort would even make his first horcrux, after all, saving Myrtle from that small psychopath if he decided to use an unforgivable in school would have been easy since she seemed to consider Regulus a friend, or at least someone to go to if she had to cry instead of the girls bathroom.

 

But if Regulus’ concerns actually had some truth behind them, he would be so fucked. 

 

No, the beast in the chamber couldn’t run after Regulus, he still had to make sure every future and past horcrux would be gone before he died.

 

Regulus’ eyes searched for the taller figure at his side and almost startled as darkness stared back.

 

A hand gently caressed his walls. Pushing more with every brush.

 

The muscles in his hand twitched as he forced his mental walls to thicken, making his meditative state spread out.

 

He needs to calm down and work faster from now on.

 

A hint of a smirk curled on the other’s lips, before those eyes widened and looked up somewhere behind Regulus.

 

“Professor, what does this mean.”

 

Regulus felt stares bore into his back.

 

What.

 

“Oh I’m so sorry you both had to see this, I didn’t know”, rushed Professor Slughorn to explain.

 

Riddle brushed the space beneath his nose a bit, the red stain of the quick wash Madam Weasley gave after seeing so much blood now dry. His eyes switching between the wall and the professor, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

 

Regulus had to bite his tongue to stop himself from yelling at the culprit of the poor birds death, of the poor girls death. Myrtle’s crying as he walked from class to class back in his first few years before he grew desensitized to the loud sobs of the small girl echoed in his head.

 

Even more eyes were on him now.

 

Now it all made sense.

 

The arrogant smile  as he positioned himself perfectly to get his head smashed in.

 

The quiet past few days without too many attempts at intrusions.

 

The stares he got from the teachers now, as the sole other Slytherin aside from ‘Poor little Riddle’.

 

It was all just the quiet before the storm.

 

Merlins balls, does Regulus wish he had just drunk that damned dreamless sleep potion and slept in the room of requirement.

 

 

Notes:

Ik it’s been a while bc of the holiday season but I warned y’all a week or so ago(prolly more) I managed to find some time to get some of that writing in YAY anyway, let’s just say Reggie won’t have a good time (btw I just thought it made sense for the teachers to be suspicious bc ya what happened with Harry and he was 12 and a halfblood, so someone whose background is only accessible through legal forms and not through word on the streets YEESH anyway but if u thought it made sense too then don’t read this rant lmao—)

Chapter 20: Beef, Bitchyness and Ground Kissers

Summary:

Remember homies, take care of urself(unlike Reg—)

Regulus’ head hit the pillow as soon as he reached his dorm and he was out like a light switch.

 

After their little encounter with the other professors they were ushered away and quickly brought to the Slytherin dorms.

 

The walk to the dungeons was silent and tense, Professor Slughorn had even stumbled over his words before dismissing the two teenagers. Regulus felt bad for him, but knew that his professor didn’t have to stress himself out too much. Only one child lost their life because of Riddle, or else there would’ve been more ghosts of children roaming the halls in his future. And Regulus would make sure that that child would survive this timeline. She wouldn’t have to die at the wand of that disgusting bastard.

 

He might not like her per say, but he had dealt with far more annoying and chatty people, or, well, Barty.

 

His professor didn’t need to worry, Regulus would handle it.

 

He had to.

 

———

 

Regulus opened his eyes.

 

He managed to sleep.

 

He actually managed to sleep a good night’s rest without any nightmare. 

 

No hands were clutching his throat, his hands, his legs.

 

Dragging him down.

 

Down.

 

Down.

 

None of that.

 

Regulus could’ve cried right then and there. His eyes were itching with unshed tears. His heart felt lighter than it had been for weeks, months, maybe even years.

 

He moved his heavy body off the warm mattress.

 

He cast a quick tempus, seeing that he missed lunch since his body tried to compensate for all of the sleepless nights. Thankfully the first January was a Friday so his only two lessons of the day would be in the afternoon and both of them were later so he could change into his clean clothes without any hassle. 

 

His heavy limbs moved sluggishly as he pulled a jumper over his head, his locks bouncing as he managed to push his head through the hole. His internal crow was cawing at him to go back to his bed, his nest and feel the bliss of sleep without waking up with a panic attack, but alas, he had to show his face. Especially after the drama that happened yesterday with Riddle.

 

Gosh, what Regulus wouldn’t do to be able to get a good hit on the mini dark lord now.

 

He put some of the seeds he accumulated over his time there on his table and turned into his animagus form, pecking them off the dark wood. This should suffice for his breakfast and lunch until he could sneak into the kitchens once again. 

 

A series of chirps slipped past Regulus’ beak at the thought of talking to the house elves once again. Maybe he’d get to talk to Daisy and Clogg, who is another house elf he met in the past few days and talked to. He sighed as he remembered that he would have to check in on Myrtle before going back to bed too. These halls weren’t safe anymore.

 

Regulus sighed as he dragged his hand over his face, done with the predicament of his new self appointed schedule.

 

At least he would be able to work on the horcrux problem with much more efficiency, now that he can sleep enough to not pass out at any given moment.

 

Regulus made some mental notes, maybe he should also figure out Riddles attack pattern, if there is sone. He found it hard to believe that the future dark lord wouldn’t have thought this through enough to have a hit list.

 

The hit being either Myrtle, like back in his time, or Regulus himself.

 

Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if Riddle changed his plans and is now targeting him. 

 

Maybe it would have been smarter of him to just ignore the other guy, or be nice to him. But if the younger Riddle wanted him to be nice then the taller shouldn’t have used his boundaries and played with them like a fun new toy. 

 

Also, Regulus ran head first into a suicide mission, and that was before he had been homeless for two months, figured out that he managed to split his soul but not all the way through apparently and had to deal with all the bullshit in school without the friends that used to be always there for him.

 

Though, with his pettiness he thinks that even if Riddle planned on killing him, he would be able to tear the other teenager down along with him. Maybe he’d just put fiendfyre on his own body in his last moments if it really came down to it, the locket was usually touching his body in some sort of way aside from in the room of requirements. No monster knows of that room if barely any other person knows of the room anyway, much less has a reason to walk around multiple times in a random hallway.

 

He transformed back into his human form, trudged down the hallway to the common room and couldn’t help but yawn. He knew that his tiredness right now was temporary, he’d get used to a healthy sleep schedule in due time and then find himself with more energy than ever before, now that he managed to make a stash of the dreamless sleep potion and didn’t care enough if he got addicted. He should’ve long been dead anyway.

 

Heat. There should not be any heat coming off the locket right now. Regulus never stayed long enough at the table to see where Riddle went after lunch, but why would he be there, of all places? Doesn’t he have evil mastermind things to do? What in Hades’ name…

 

Maybe he could still turn around and act sick.

 

Yes, that’s it.

 

It wouldn’t be too suspicious if he got sick right after that stupid message appeared on the wall, right?

 

Well, he couldn’t hear any aurors questioning Riddle -or any sound that would indicate anyone’s presence at all, really- so even if some people got suspicious, he would not get into any legal problem for the threat that annoyance had made to the ‘enemies of the heir’.

 

Without further ado he spun on his heel and walked right back. No need to stress too much over the other teenager in the dormitory, since he could request to be put under verita serum for a questioning, or just ask to get his memory plucked out of that day if the other decides to go on a murder spree while Regulus isn’t showing his face. 

 

…No, this felt wrong. Regulus sighed as his head cleared some of the fog in his brain. There was a hand of dread pushing down on his lungs.

 

Screams.

 

Screams.

 

Blood.

 

Red.

 

Green.

 

His body tensed up as he remembered the few missions he had been sent to  after his parents pulled him out of school and before Kreacher had come back half dead. The screams being oh so similar to his brothers. Never  really knowing if his brother actually WAS somewhere on the other side of his wand. Regulus had been scared to turn out to be just like their mother ever since he was ten, when he saw other children act just like their parents. Sirius had consoled him, told him that his little brother would never use Crucio against him, much less innocent children like themselves.

 

Red.

 

Black.

 

Fire.

 

Blood.

 

But even if Regulus had never used that specific curse on other people, he did use some nasty curses, most of them dark. And since Dumbledore’s side had been a mixture of if freshly graduated and wild teenagers and fully trained aurors -that were still wild if he had to be honest- he would have to guess that there was a chance he actually hit someone around Sirius’ age range.They were too young, with barely any training as far as he managed to find out. He was obviously the youngest with his sixteen years of age, but still.

 

Glossy.

 

Eyes.

 

Help.

 

He might’ve been the first underage soldier on field during the war in his time, he was sure children were forced to participate in other wars before his time, but he now had the power to make sure that he was the last. At the very least for the next war, he might even be able to get Barty’s dad to enforce better child protection laws. If those laws were to work then he might be the last recorded teenager to head to war. Of course there would be one or the other family that would still get their underage child to participate in a war they shouldn’t even be apart of, but the would be thrown into Azkaban instead of the child if there were to be better wars.

 

Crumble.

 

Death.

 

Cold.

 

Crumble.

 

Shit, he can’t breathe.

 

His walls are crumbling. He needs to get to his room. A murder of occlumency starts to form in front of the crumbling walls of his mind. Myrtle can wait, Riddle isn’t stupid enough to kill someone now, right?

 

His vision started to spin. His eyes were hot and as he touched his forehead he retracted his hand quickly since the heat surprised him.

 

Who knew that having a panic attack would give him a fever. Wait, no, it might’ve been his unhealthy habits crashing down and butchering his immune system. That’s probably it. The panic attack was just the last push. Thirteen hours do not make up for all of those sleepless nights, or the whacky diet, the still not fully healed dark magic infested wounds, maybe even his continuous training with powerful wandless and wordless spells, perhaps even all of them.

 

Whatever. He’s going to lay down. He needs to lay down. 

 

No, he can’t. If he goes to the hospital wing he would be able to fix his fever or whatever was happening to his body in less than two hours, still enough time to go to his first lesson of the day. He’ll even get the heat off the locket if he managed to get out of the Slytherin dorms. Honestly, if Regulus wasn’t as petty as he was he would have probably just gone back to his bed, but he had to show Riddle that he didn’t scare anyone.

 

Regulus stabilized himself by clutching the hard stone walls of the hallway.

 

The mini dark lord probably did it to get attention anyway. Making all of this ruckus at midnight, it makes him look pathetic with how badly he wants to be interesting and strike fear in others when he himself is mortal still. The thought of a mortal Voldemort managed to ease some of the pressure on his chest, the lump in his throat now a bit thinner, more air was getting inside.

 

He just needs to get to the hospital wing. In his human form. A crow inside the dungeons would reveal too much to Riddle. Only his closest friends knew of his animagus form.

 

That fucker doesn’t deserve to see me.

 

“Oh, but I already do”, came a voice from behind. 

 

Regulus’ blood ran cold.

 

No.

 

More and more crows joined the murder, now pecking the intruding hand. Since when was there a hand? No, no, no, no, this can’t be. The flock of birds were now shredding the hand, pushing and pushing until he felt the hand leave

 

Wait the hand was not too deep in. It barely scratched the surface of his mind, which would be his immediate thoughts and monologues. 

 

If Regulus didn’t think he’d lost the ability to cry a long time ago, he would’ve expected to cry right then and there out of sheer happiness.

 

Voldemort could never, ever find out what happens in the future.

 

He turned around slowly.

 

Hazel eyes were drawn to the brown abyss. 

 

If Regulus wasn’t almost passing out because of his weakened state he would most definitely throw a hex…no, a curse at Riddle -wait, he should probably stop reacting like this, no, maybe he should up the ante with his reactions, there’ll be more of a chance to become a target, rather than Myrtle-.

 

Something sour is filling his mouth instead of saliva.

 

He only glared at the other though, since he was already focusing on filling the loose parts of his minds walls. He knew that strong occlumency was a must in the household he grew up in, but he would’ve never imagined to be able to hold off the mini dark lords legilimency attack as good as he did -considering their souls, or something similar to their essences, are now sharing the same space in the locket to some extent at least from what Regulus managed to figure out-, which would make him feel accomplished if he wasn’t feeling like he’s actively dying.

 

There! Regulus could see the hint of a scowl on the perfect mask.

 

splat

 

Riddle’s eye twitched as the glob of spit most definitely didn’t hit the stone beneath their feet. 

 

“Do you now?”, scoffed Regulus, absolutely done with this whole interaction, slowly trudging to the taller guy’s left ready to just walk past the other. Of course he would’ve preferred to walk past Voldemort when the other was on the other side of the common room, but this would have to do. His waist was burning already, shit. He just hoped it wouldn’t stink up the place too much with the charred skin. 

 

“I don’t understand how a lowlife like you would even dare to walk these halls. You’re as infuriating as they come, annoying and terribly rude for no reason, interesting.”

 

Regulus’ eye twitched.

 

RUDE? Regulus had to stop himself from beating the other teenager into a bloody mess on the ground just because of the way Riddle was acting. And he meant that, even in the few seconds before the ugly snake like version of the other replaces Riddles’ face in his mind.

 

Also, Interesting? If only the teenager knew what he would become in the future, the young dark lord would not think him interesting.

 

Regulus couldn’t wait to slide into the background once more the moment the other had someone else to interact with in only a few more days.

 

Black dots started to appear in random places in front of his eyes as he leaned against the wall, though he never stopped moving.

 

Regulus has to keep on moving.

 

If not for himself, then at least for his brothers future, for his friends’ futures, for Myrtle’s future.

 

He can’t be selfish now, he can’t stop.

 

Not now, not until he did everything he could.

 

The locket started to move towards Riddle as Regulus practically stumbled past the other Slytherin.

 

Small sticky suction cups, similar to the ones an octopus would have start to spread around his waist, pushing and pulling the locket along with the chain lower and lower until he managed to push the locket underneath the waistband of his trousers, not having enough space to move.

 

Cooling spell, cooling spell, cooling spell, cooling spell, Regulus had to get a move on faster, cooling spell, cooling spell—

 

Why does the ground seem so close all of the sudden?

 

Fuck—

 

 

Notes:

Posting this right before an appointment was most definitely not a smart idea OH WELL ILL STRESS MY ASS THEN

Chapter 21: Embarrassing Consequences

 

 

In hindsight, Regulus should’ve been less stubborn.

 

Who could blame him though? If the one guy that almost made his whole ‘we are the most noble and ancient house of Black’ family into extreme blood purists that would go to war —he repeats: WAR— over something as stupid as who wizards decide to have babies with, was challenging Regulus’ will, he sure as hell would not back down.

 

Which… in retrospect was the reason for the dilemma at hand. 

 

See, Regulus thought about going back to his room the moment he woke up in the hospital wing, chest and abdomen covered in bandages, but one second from Madam Weasley’s glare made him lay down as fast as he could. He was just happy that his Metamorphmagus form stayed true and didn’t change his legs, arms and face back into the mess they really were.

 

He would rather not become more suspicious than he already is because of the whole chamber of secrets fiasco, thank you very much.

 

So he was stuck there.

 

Hurray.

 

Though, one good thing did happen. No one found the locket, since he basically shoved it in his undergarments before he fainted and he still managed to feel it there now too. Cooling his skin.

 

Regulus sighed for the fourth time that morning, and it had only been five minutes since he woke up. He couldn’t just sit and wait. He had to do something. Anything. Hades, he would even prefer having to converse with Madam Weasley and her fast pace of speaking rather than to be alone with his thoughts in the unnatural silence of the hospital wing. Even back in his own time there would be at the very least some poor child already laying in a bed for some reason. Though, he has got to admit that he never got permission to spend his holidays in school, so who was he to judge.

 

“Here, drink”, came the curt demand of the black haired woman —the family he never got to meet in his past life because of his parents, basically—, who resembled someone from the house of Black now more than ever. He hadn’t even realized that his first impression and the few waves and nods they shared in the days since he arrived managed to shape such a specific image of the woman, to the point where he totally forgot in which house she grew up in.

 

The same one that he did.

 

Though she had the courage to question everything she was taught, he didn’t until he literally died. 

 

Of course he knew that their views of how house elf’s should be treated was complete idiocy, but that was just common sense, he feared. Not any revolutionary rebellion against his parents’ views. Unlike his brother who started to yell back at their mother the moment he came back for his first break at Hogwarts.

 

Now Regulus could only stare down at the small vial filled with some black fluid as he contemplated his life choices.

 

“Blake”, she sighed as she sat down on the chair next to his bed, ”how did you get so many wounds that are infested THIS heavily by dark magic. I mean, I’ve seen a few children with some small wounds from camping trips but this? I know that you haven’t had the best few months after your parents died and you managed to get to Great Britain, but this, this should not even be considered as alright?! Some of them have probably healed naturally to some extent but the dark magic goes deep. I’ve never seen this many scars on a body, how did you not bleed out, all of them have the same pattern so I use assumed they were made at the same time —do correct me if I'm wrong though it would help immensely with the treatment— but you also have burns all around your midsection? What is up with that, young man? Shouldn’t you value your health more? You’re a growing teenager for Merlins sake! Do you want to stay this tiny for the rest of your life?” Regulus had to hold himself back from telling her that he was tall, since he did shrink his fifteen to sixteen year old body by a few centimeters. “And anyway, you need to tell me right now if you have any other wounds on your legs or anywhere else. I will have to prescribe you a lot of medicine, and some potions of dreamless sleep until we can get hold of a mind healer —with your consent of course— though we have to make sure you won’t get addicted to any of the potions so I will switch your potions for those wounds I’ll make out for some cream you’ll have to smear on them, you hear me??”

 

Regulus just blinked dumbly at her.

 

“What?”

 

Everything was hard to understand, generally, but how did she figure out that he needed those potions of dreamless sleep? He couldn’t remember waking up screaming, had he been thrashing around in his sleep?

 

Shew sighed as she slumped a bit before she sat up straight again took a deep breath and-

 

“So what I said was—“

 

Regulus was not about to listen to all of that again, so he interrupted her. Probably more rudely than he should’ve, but she just couldn’t stop talking, and it was getting on Regulus’ nerves. 

 

Holy Circe, how could he ever had thought that he would rather have her talk with him than just lay in silence.

 

“No, no, I was not asking you to repeat yourself, I heard you perfectly. Just, why would I need that last potion?”

 

She cocked her head to the side as she studied his face.

 

“Well… you kind of clung to your housemate after he dropped you off and started screaming, after which you repeatedly searched for someone you called ‘Sisi’, or maybe you just insulted whoever was in your dream. Either way, your grip on the poor boy’s sleeve almost made me think that you would just rip the fabric into pieces. Honestly, I’m surprised he stayed as long as he did. He even sat down for a few hours while you were thrashing. You never let your grip go though. I would have never guessed that you could have such a strong grip, I would’ve recommended you as a seeker if they were to still accept players this late into the season—wait no where was I again? Oh yea like a whole day went by after you fainted, but the teachers that came by said to not make you worry since you seem to be able to grasp the lessons so well. Gosh, how nice it would be if everyone could be this good in school, but alas, I guess us normal people that need years to be able to learn the stuff they taught you in the past week or so, will have to make do with what we have—”, she started go go off on some other rants after that.

 

Regulus however, was mortified.

 

He had done WHAT now?

 

No, he was hallucinating.

 

Maybe he was still in the cave, drinking that poisoned water, or slowly crawling towards the water.

 

This couldn’t be true.

 

He had not only called for his brother that ignored him the moment he had better people to hang out with by the nickname that only belonged to the youngest of the Black family, but he had also apparently clung to the closest thing his hands could reach.

 

Which was Riddle.

 

Nope.

 

This was complete and utter bullshit.

 

Right? 

 

Regulus could swear that some black dots started to reappear in his field of vision.

 

Honestly, if he had the option to die again, and not get flung back in time, he would take it right then and there. 

 

Did Regulus reveal a weakness? he almost scoffed externally at that.

 

Of course he did, the question now was if Riddle knew how to use it and how Regulus could make it seem that such a thing never happened.

 

…The cave sounds like a neat place to fly to right about now.

 

———

 

He did not, in fact, fly to the cave. 

 

After Madam Weasleys rant had ended she explained which potion he had to take and when as well as what they did. She asked him if he wanted a mind healer and he denied it without a second thought.

 

What good would it do, if he didn’t plan on staying on this timeline, or at least not alive, if he didn’t manage to find a way back to his own.

 

She was a bit skeptical at his short answer but conceded nonetheless and kept on talking about the different properties of the potions.

 

That’s how he wasted a morning of time he could’ve used to sneak into the forbidden section of the library.

 

He would’ve been stuck at the hospital wing from bed rest, because apparently Madam Weasley wanted to make sure he wouldn’t faint again —especially since there was a chance of him falling to his doom of that were to happen while he was walking on the moving staircases—, that was until Myrtle had barged into the room, with a piece of toast, a banana and a tear streaked face.

 

She had flung herself at Regulus and shoved the warm bread and banana into his lap before she started crying saying how she missed him (he doubted that) and how heroic it was for Riddle to carry his body all the way up there (that seemed more on brand for her). 

 

Regulus, ever the opportunist in situations like these managed to convince the healer to let him go early if Myrtle were to help him get from class to class. 

 

The young girl had tried to protest, but was shut down quickly by a glare Regulus managed to perfect growing up in that forsaken house. Though it seems that his new appearance was softer than the one he knew how to utilize, because even though Myrtle did stop talking and nodded, she also stuck out her tongue right after.

 

So here he was, on the way to the transfiguration classroom. Dying on the inside as he repeated everything that had happened in his passed out state. His timetable had changed in the day he had been unconscious and he was happy to find out that he only had transfiguration classes and defense against the dark arts classes left and those should end a day before the other students would arrive, so on the tenth of January. 

 

No one would even come close to connecting him to a big wizard family if one of his weaker classes is dada, he figured, since most pureblood children would’ve learned enough to not even need preparing classes for that.

 

Wait, Riddle was a descendant of Slytherin and grew up in an orphanage, so no one would suspect him either. 

 

Regulus truly thought of blasting the fool that started the burning of people on family trees a thing, he could’ve proven Riddle’s guilt over the commotion on New Year’s Eve and the death of the owl if that Family tree were still in tact.

 

Regulus thanked Myrtle, interrupting the gossip session she started a few hallways ago, and went to sit down on any of the empty chairs in the classroom. She, of course just told him to not faint again and that she would wait outside, saying: “I have nothing better to do anyway, I guess”, before sighing and closing the door behind her.

 

Great.

 

Just great.

 

Now if only Dumbledore wouldn’t keep on looking at Regulus whenever he thought the younger wouldn’t notice, that would be nice.

 

Regulus was pretty sure he should’ve seemed less suspicious to literally everyone after passing out, but apparently he didn’t.

 

What, did he fall suspiciously??

 

 

Chapter 22: Confusion in the Library

 

Regulus was questioning Riddle’s manipulation tactics and how they even managed to work. 

 

Obviously, they didn’t work on Regulus. He grew up in a house that required him to be aware of his surroundings and act accordingly to any subtle tonal shift. He knew that the moment he saw his mothers eyes blink more than the usual fifteen times in a minute, he would have to detach himself from any emotions regarding the situation or topic at hand, lest he end up with no dinner for a week. Though that never stopped Sirius from getting into screaming matches with her, it sure made Regulus far more sensitive to change in his peers emotions than he would’ve liked growing up.

 

Now, he could use it to his advantage. 

 

Hah.

 

If only.

 

Regulus had to groan as he kept on writing in his notes, Myrtle’s voice droning on about some herbology fiasco last year in the background.

 

If Regulus could only figure out what the mini dark lord was trying to do. 

 

It was pretty clear that Riddle wrote the bloody message, and that it was not just directed to the student body, but very specifically to Regulus.

 

The staring made it a tad bit too obvious. But it made sense for the other to hate him just as much as Regulus hated him. He, after all, never had a single honest and friendly conversation with Riddle, as far as he can remember.

 

The teachers being suspicious at the only other Slytherin made sense, especially considering that the chamber opened only a few days after the new kid arrived. Not a good look, but would he really start to sit with Myrtle at the Ravenclaw table just a few days after the new year arrived —for no other reason other than to not have to use chilling spells over the still not quite healed wounds—? And would someone stemming from two half-bloods have a chance of the heir of Slytherin? Regulus would like to disagree, especially since his father was supposed to be someone from Durmstrang and the name of his mother wasn’t on any full blood family tree.

 

But alas, Riddles mother got burned off her family tapestry so—

 

Now, there was only one reasonable explanation as to why Riddle stayed by his side when he was passed out.

 

That fucker was obviously masterminding his way out of trouble and searching for weaknesses at the same time.

 

If he looked like the concerned classmate? friend? of Regulus, then people would pity him more than accuse him of such an atrocity as planning to kill the boy lying in the bed he ‘watches over’. Oh, poor little Tom, not only had to get almost attacked on his birthday, run against a wall and had to see the bloody writing against anyone that is an enemy to the heir of a pureblood family! Now the only kid around his age passed out and he had to carry him all the way from the dungeons, what a precious boy, so caring. 

 

As if.

 

Regulus will, most definitely, curse him until the taller can’t breathe anymore the next time that the future noseless bastard dared to show his face anywhere near him.

 

And now Regulus had to fear that he might’ve told Riddle more than just his brother’s nickname. Like, anything that could relate him to any of the sacred twenty-eight. Gosh, he just hopes he went on to blabber about Pandora, Evan, Dorcas or even Barty instead of his parents, if he even said anything aside from ‘Sisi’.

 

Regulus closed his notebook and packed it into his new bag. Apparently Myrtle loved to sew. She even said she wanted to intern as a seamstress at the ‘Robes for All Occasions’ once she managed to finish her seventh year.

 

And as her ‘best friend’ he got to wear her creations. Really, Regulus might have to tell her to not only raise her standards for crushes but also for best friends. He only had to talk to her like a normal human being, be a bit sarcastic every once in a while and engage with the tea that she spilled and BOOM he already got the title of best friend. It was, however, funny to see her indignant face after Regulus told her that Daisy won that title in his books already.

 

She reminded him of Barty, if Barty were to have more mood swings —though less catastrophic— than he already did and if he actually knew how to control his volume of speaking. 

 

Of course, Regulus would always miss his friends and Myrtle would and should never replace them.

 

She’s her own person.

 

She managed to make a quiet space, one that he could relax in without having to second guess his actions, where he did not have to think of an answer and was able to exist unconditionally. Just like his friends did.

 

He would never put anyone in the position that he had been stuck in for his whole life though. She wasn’t a second option. She was Myrtle, the only Myrtle he ever got close to. She wasn’t the ghost he tried to ignore for the six and a half years he went to school. No, she was just ‘crushes on every guy’ Myrtle, ‘knows everyone’s drama, including their grandmas’ Myrtle, ‘whines about homework over the holidays even though Regulus was sitting right beside her having to do the triple amount of work’ Myrtle.

 

She wasn’t a second option.

 

“Hey, I’m going to take a walk, grab a snack. Want something?” He stretched his back once he got everything inside of his bag.

 

“Wuh? Oh yea, uhm, wait, I’ll just go with you. Madam Weasley hasn’t laid you off the medicine she gave you a few days ago. So don’t worry, I’ll help you haha”, she chuckled proudly at the last statement but Regulus was already speedily walking ahead.

 

So no, she didn’t want anything.

 

“WHAT wait up!!” 

 

Damn it.

 

He slowed to a halt as he heard the girl put everything she had strewn around where it belonged and ran towards him.

 

“You…need to—to stop… walking so fast”, she gasped out as she finally caught up to him. Regulus had barely noticed that he had managed to almost cross the entire library in those few seconds. Motivation, am I right, he thought.

 

“Well, lets just get something to snack on and we’ll go right back” sighed Regulus as he went to reach for the door.

 

“What?! No, why would you pack everything in your bag?? This is so unreasonable of you, you’ll faint because of this for sure”, scoffed Myrtle.

 

“No? I’m well rested now and have been for the past few days. Myrtle, school will start in a few days, I need to be able to carry my own stuff. You’re also two years younger than me, so I should be the stronger one— You know what? Let’s go back again I’m not hungry anymore. To be frank, I should probably hurry and finish this assignment and you should finish your DADA homework too”, Regulus flinched away from the large door and stressed the other teenager to turn around and get a move on.

 

The chain around his waist became almost uncomfortably hot.

 

 

Notes:

I’ve been tired 24/7 lately but I hope y’all still like it :D

Chapter 23: Bad Decision After Bad Decision in the Library

Summary:

Reg: sHiT-

 

 

Regulus kept on walking.

 

Not a single thought was spared to make him look back while his legs were still moving.

 

That guy just HAD to show up when Regulus tried to get out of the library, didn’t he? Damn it.  So much for staying out of sight and out of mind.

 

And Regulus only had to survive what, three more days without seeing Riddle before he could comfortably blend in with the other students? Regulus knew he had terrible luck, just one look at his family would prove that —even before he got flung into the past—, but he didn’t think that Riddle would show up at the library after not getting close to the room aside from walking past the doors in the hallways for the past week or so.

 

“I SAID WAIT—“, Regulus’ hand got yanked back from its stiff spot at his side.

 

He quickly turned around and blinked owlishly at the younger girl, holding onto his hand as she was panting and leaning forwards slightly. 

 

“For- For Merlins sake Blake—haahhh— how is it that you can walk that fast?? NO —haaaa— this is speed walking? Or sprinting?? You were almost skin and bones not even a week ago—ack—I have to ask Madam Weasley for those potions too I guess—haaa”, she took shallow and irregular breaths as she barely managed to punch even more words out. 

 

Regulus felt the pendant heat up to an alarming degree, looked over the hunched over Myrtle’s shoulder and locked eyes with the one guy he would have rather avoided till his dying breath.

 

The taller ones eyes strayed from Regulus’ hazel eyes down, down, down, to the hand which Myrtle still hadn’t let go of. Regulus almost flinched and tried to get his hand out of her grip in a way that would not alarm her. In a way that would make them look nothing more than strangers that just had some smalltalk before he decided to run off.

 

If he alone were to be targeted by Riddle? Fine, no problem, awesome even. He would just have more of an excuse to beat the other, it’s not like he cared enough for his own life aside from basic animalistic survival instincts.

 

But Myrtle? She was a child, she even bragged about reaching the age of fourteen in few months.

 

This would not do. He could not drag Myrtle into whatever this is going to become.

 

Regulus had to learn at a young age to disassociate, to not care. At the very least he could seem uninterested or even annoyed when, in this case Myrtle, was talking to him way too animatedly and friendly for anyone to believe they were simple acquaintances. Regulus knew he hadn’t been too discreet about hanging out with Myrtle, but it was also not his fault if that girl stuck to him like glue the moment she realized that he would not ridicule her solely based off of rumors and her glasses.

 

Regulus’ eyes travelled back to Myrtle before he looked down and sighed. Maybe if he yanked a bit harder it would do the trick? Did she think he’d run off again? Well, it’s a bit too late for that now, is it? The reason he ran off in the first place stood there, right behind her.

 

Instead of yanking his hand out of the deadly grip she had on his —how did she even develop a grip strength like that?— he decided to ignore her presence to simply stare the other boy down.

 

Honestly, he shouldn’t be too surprised that Riddle would seek him out after Regulus managed to avoid him for this long… Truly cunning of that bastard to trap him in a public space… If only he could’ve waited for a beating in the common room like last time-

 

Regulus was thrown off the staring contest when his hands were let go of with a gasp and one of Myrtle’s pigtails she wore on that day slapped his arm.

 

“Oh Merlin! I didn’t see you there! I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t mean to shout in-“,Myrtle started to babble on and on about something, but Regulus’ body was too tightly strung, every muscle ready to spring into action as his now hazel eyes made sure Riddles body wasn’t moving anywhere where a wand could be placed. 

 

Hot, hot iron was burning into his side.

 

He knew how to notice minute shifts in ones body, had to if he wanted to have a dinner without shouting and doors slamming and curses and hexes flying. So it was almost naturally for him to stare at people, to make sure nothing was going to happen that might uproot his peace. The “peace” in question being not seeing Myrtle get even more infatuated with the older student and for her to stay out of Riddles radar. Especially since she was his potential first victim—

 

Some thought of it as creepy, his friends called it his “Bird-brain-behavior” or whatever, but the correct term at the time —he would have to say— was useful. Since he managed to see the way the mini dark lords jaw tightened, managed to see the wrinkles around his eyes double the amount as his usual fake smile seemed to strain. He knew he had to step in.

 

Time to get out. 

 

“Well, it was great talking to you, Riddle. Myrtle and I are in need of some study snacks, so we were about to take our leave, have a great day.” Quick, simple, easy, polite. That’s the way to go, before he became as crispy as the bacon the house elves served for breakfast.

 

Just, that it never really was that easy ever since he died, now was it?

 

Dark eyes immediately shot up, posture straightening a bit as Riddle looked at him again. Good.

 

“Oh, were you?”

 

Fingers were brushing against his walls, putting pressure on it, trying to get deeper into his mind, and for the first time…Regulus let him. This was a small price to pay for her life. It was a controlled give. He had waited until the hand was pressing against a particular wall in his mind and he let the and reach through, grasping the first thing it managed to curl its filth around.

 

“Don’t look at her. Look at me. Only me.”

 

With those words he threw him out with as much force as he could manage though the mind numbing pain of the locket going crazy.

 

A quick succession of two blinks was all he got for his efforts. Circe be dammed.

 

He ignored the quiet “but you weren’t even talking to him-“ from Myrtle and decided to answer.

 

“Yes we were, in fact, we should probably hurry it up before the late afternoon break that the house elves take in a few minutes“, he was bullshitting, of course. The break wasn’t due to an hour, he knew the ins and outs of as many schedules he could get his hands on.

 

Sadly, Myrtle also knew the ins and outs of the house elves schedule, not because she was a paranoid barely seventeen year old boy trapped in his fifteen or sixteen year old body, but simply because after meeting Daisy a few days back she started to have gossip sessions during the breaks of the smaller. Fair enough though, the house elf seemed to enjoy it as much as the teenager did and even spilled some drama herself. 

 

All that being said, the confused look and an opened mouth, ready to expose his lies in her shock at his rude way to get away from the situation shouldn’t have been a surprise. So he did what was the wisest and most logical thing to do… He stared her in the eyes with the “You better play along for your and my sake or may Hecate have mercy on your souls because I sure as hell won’t” look that he managed to perfect over the years while being friends with Pandora ‘just here for the vibes and to cause a bit of mischief’ Rosier and Barty ‘sneaks into places he shouldn’t and is here for the chaos’ Crouch Jr.

 

Thankfully, her lips zipped up right away and she nodded hectically. 

 

“Well you two, don’t let me hold you off from studying I’m just here for prefect duties”, Regulus looked back to Riddle, almost startling as he was met with the others stare. That weirdo had taken the sentence Regulus basically shoved into his hand a little too literally, but Regulus was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He’ll take what he can get if it means keeping the kid alive and well away from the future muggle born murderer.

 

The fake smile was perfectly set once again, no extra muscles were engaged in this smile, no more annoyance was detected. Though, Regulus felt like the other boy looked just a smidge too smug right now. It was probably just his imagination, Regulus reasoned as he almost cried internally when he walked past Riddle. The bliss of the lockets heat subsiding was better than anything he could’ve imagined at the moment.

 

Myrtle and him walked briskly out of the library.

 

One person left the room more confused than during one of Slughorns exams, and the other left the room with an almost normal heart rate as the pain lessened with every step he took.

 

“Do you also smell bacon?”

 

Regulus thought that the windows seemed to be quite a nice height to drop dead from.

 

 

Notes:

So… It’s been a while SORRY but you can expect more regular updates, like maybe once or twice a month now? Once again, thank you for reading and sorry for the long wait :D

Chapter 24: Back to School!

Summary:

Reg: actually talks
Myrtle: what kinda bullshit- ASSUMING MAKES AN ASS OUT OF U AND ME
—
Abraxas: whose damn chicken is that
Crow Reg: >:(

 

 

He had, in fact, not jumped out of the window closest to him.

 

Once Myrtle had thought they were a good distance away from the library she started asking various questions, which Regulus had been either able to answer truthfully and quickly or had just said something vaguely not incriminating, stuff like:

 

“Why don't you like Riddle?”

 

“He’s an ass sometimes. I have to live with him, I would know.”

 

Or:

 

“Why were you running around in the library?”

 

“I wasn’t running.”

 

“Yes you were!”

 

“Just because you’re short doesn’t mean that I have to slow down my normal walking pace for you”

 

“Hey! I’m quite tall for my age!”

 

“Yea, yea, sure”

 

“Oh you-“

 

After a while they had reached the kitchen and taken a few sandwiches from Daisy who had prepared them in advance, which has led to the usual hour of talking between the girls to turn into an almost two hour long session, the other house elves just slightly grumbling for Daisy’s neglect of her kitchen duties. Regulus had offered to help in her stead but was shot down quite promptly. Secretly, he used a few spells to make the plates that the elves were washing astonishingly clean after a quick rinse.

 

The days following were…unsettling to say the very least. 

 

Regulus kept up his routine that he had crafted over the roughly three weeks hr had been at the school. So one would think that the nagging feeling at the back of his head wouldn’t have been necessary…but sadly, his brain thought otherwise and he found himself looking around more often than usual. 

 

Telling the future dark lord to not look at a person was the equivalent of telling a random guy on the street to not imagine a pink elephant in a black leather jacket dancing in a park. Regulus realized that he had most possibly ‘fucked up’ on that department. And if he smuggled a small tracking rune into one of the pockets of Myrtle’s school uniform no one had to know…

 

Regulus would rather be safe than sorry.

 

So yes, he might’ve gotten a bit more tense in the past few days but that is nothing that wouldn’t resolve itself once the other kids came back from the holidays, which was today. 

 

Finally, the eleventh of January arrived and alongside that day came the distraction of hundreds of children that needed to get settled back into their dorms.

 

Thank Circe, Regulus could relax at last! No more being the sole other boy in the dorms, no more having to eat breakfast stupidly early to avoid Riddle and close to no restriction on his trips to the room of requirement in fear of the taller boy realizing that he just vanished for hours on end without Myrtle by his side, which had become a norm Regulus had to get used to. She was good company of course —a lot better than Barty— but it saddened him to think that he might be the only friend she managed to have in her whole four years here. 

 

Thankfully though Regulus didn’t manage to find a single thing that could even indicate Riddle following them around, since the locket barely acted up at all ever since the library fiasco. Oh, how delighted Regulus felt when he realized that he would have more time to study and figure the locket out now that Riddle would be preoccupied by his actual prefect duties and not just some weird excuse of having to do something in the library. Regulus would know about prefect duties, he had them in his fifth and sixth year after all.

 

Regulus got torn from his musings as Myrtle slumped over the desk in the library he currently preoccupied. 

 

A long suffering sigh left her body as he just continued to stare at her. He blinked slowly and continued to write the essay that the other students in his grade had to write during their break.

 

Another sigh left her body as she managed to slump down onto the table even more, now having a hint of annoyance behind it before she blindly kicked around with her foot, trying to hit him. Regulus, of course, just moved his chair to the side and out of her reach before continuing the last paragraph. His schedule changed magically into the actual timetable of the semester just yesterday so he knew that he could also just finish writing it later in the week, since his first lesson of DADA is planned to be on Wednesday, but annoying Myrtle had become quite amusing lately…or he had gone insane because of the long term exposure to his family. Both were viable options if he had to be honest. Nonetheless, when the kid groaned angrily and looked up at him to glare he really had to suppress a smile, opting for a blank poker face. She looked just like his brother back when he was told to smile in their childhood portraits, which meant that she donned an angry glare that resembled a wet kitten more than anything else.

 

A single brow raised itself on his forehead and she broke the silence.

 

“Can we meet up between classes?”

 

That, Regulus didn’t expect.

 

“Aren’t we doing so already?”

 

Her scowl deepened.

 

“I mean, we sure can, Myrtle”, he followed up as quickly as he could, not wanting a repeat of their first encounter.

 

She sighed once more and looked away. “You know, those horrible, no good bullies of mine are coming back and I just want someone to talk to while going from one class to the next. Talking makes me blend out everything around me and would probably blend their voices out too. I love talking to Daisy and you but she’s usually working when I have classes. I checked the new timetable I got and everyone’s classes start and end at the same time if you do not include the electives and free periods so I was thinking —only if you want to of course— that we could hang out between classes? If your close by of course and—“ Regulus blended the rest of her rambling out before managed to show the worry he felt in his bones. 

 

If he agreed to walk around with Myrtle he would set an even larger target on her back, would garner the attention of everyone around her since she’d be getting picked up and dropped off to her classes by a guy who no one has ever seen before and who is two grades above her which would lead to even more ridicule that would befall her and too much attention on his being for his liking.

 

On the other hand though…if he were to deny her request she would have no support system for between the classes, he might loose her trust as a friend and therefore sever the connection which could lead her to run off into the bathrooms to cry where she died back in his timeline.

 

And what if Regulus were to be too late to save the kid anyways? If his rune malfunctions or she decides to not wear her uniform on the day she dies. At times like these he really wished he had listened more closely to what Myrtle was crying and screaming about when she was a ghost. If only he could’ve figured out when she had died at least.

 

But alas, he doesn’t know. He’s juggling with fate and hopes that it doesn’t throw in any more balls than the ones he’s already been handed.

 

“Hey, I understand what you mean Myrtle,” he interrupted her talking, “but I also don't think having me as a bodyguard would solve anything. Of course I’m going to hang out with you between classes when our classrooms are close by, but using me as a shield to avoid bullying will only work for so long. I will be gone after next year, and who will you talk to then? How do you think you’ll handle the bullying after getting a break from it? Will you be able to ignore them? Will you fight back? Will their words slide off your shoulders and not infest your brain and heart or will you revert back to the girl that screamed and cried the first time she saw me?” Regulus looked down, trying to get his point across. He wasn’t outright denying her request but he wasn’t agreeing entirely either. Preferably he would not have to meet up at the door of her class, garnering more attention than he wants.

 

As he raised his eyes and met hers he managed to relax a bit. It seemed like she was actually thinking about the consequences of what could happen.

 

“Look, I see you as a friend, Myrtle. Almost like a little sister, so I want you to know what you want. Do you know what I mean? I’ll go from class to class with you if you really want to but that is only if you can tell me with your whole chest that that would be the better alternative. I want you to know what you’re realistically asking for and not tell me about things that ‘could’ or ‘might’ happen. I know you have a great imagination, use that and tell me the pros and cons of what you’re asking for, or think of some but do tell me if you want me to be there or not.”

 

Myrtle hung her head. Regulus really hoped that she understood what he meant. Making and keeping new friends past the age of eleven was not on his bucket list, so he didn’t quite know how he could make her realize what he wanted to say on an emotional level like he was able to do with his first friends.

 

But Merlin be damned if he wouldn’t try. With that resolve he opened his mouth once more but got cut off by the young girls head snapping up with a fire in her eyes that made her look like a Gryffindor beater during a match with Slytherin.

 

“You idiot!” Alright, Regulus did not expect that.

 

“I didn’t ask you to hang out just because of the bullying! I asked you first and foremost because you’re my friend, and from what I observed friends hang out with each other between classes!” Regulus tried to signal her to not shout as his ears were slowly dying and they were in a library. She ignored him, of course.

 

“And second of all I’m not scared of my bullies I’m scared for My bullies! Those meanies would have no chance in a duel if they weren’t such cowards and come at me in a pack! I sometimes even imagine punching them so hard in their stomachs that my hand would go through them! Maybe even in their face so that it can be as ugly as they call mine! But I don’t want to get expelled if I actually did try to fight them so talking to you makes me less angry and if get to manage to fully blend them out it would be even better! And it doesn’t help at all that I cry at almost anything! And yes it hurts when they call me ugly and try to break my glasses again but oh if I don't hate them then I don't know either!”, she yelled as she started to wave her fist with her wand around in big arches.

 

Regulus took a step back, not wanting to loose an eye. She huffed, out of breath as she finished her imaginary fight.

 

“So yes, I want you to show up, but we could also meet up somewhere you do not have to play the part of a bodyguard, you just have to be you, like always”, she scoffed and rolled her eyes at the last statement.

 

A silence rang through the room before Regulus started shaking with restrained laughter.

 

Gosh he might’ve compared her to his brother previously but the way she was reasoning everything so far  —oddly enough— reminded him or himself. Though, he would have to say that he never quite let his anger out verbally like her. At least not often. The punching part he could relate to though—

 

“Oh no are you ill? Are you going to faint again—“, she interrupted herself during her questioning his shaking and raised both of her eyebrows. She could probably see some of the amusement in his eyes.

 

“Are you laughing at me?! Blake you little-“

 

“SILENCE IN THE LIBRARY!”, screamed the librarian.

 

Both of the teenagers flinched and Regulus just sent her a smirk as he signaled for her to be silent, to which she gaped like a fish before trying to tackle him to the ground, or at least get him off the chair with her fury.

 

What had he been worrying about? Myrtle was his friend, no matter how late in life he met her. She knew how to whack him over the head, make him see sense and find a way they were both comfortable dealing with the issue at hand. No wonder she was a Ravenclaw.

 

———

 

 

 Now…what made the fates think it would be funny to make Abraxas Malfoy walk in on him molting?

 

Regulus was sitting on the backrest of his chair, carefully plucking some old and crooked feathers out of his wings and froze in his shock as he saw the now ‘not super old’ Malfoy enter their shared dorm.

 

The other froze as well, a confused frown etched on his face as his blue eyes blinked a few times in quick succession. Regulus realized that his hair was now a lot longer than the short cut he usually donned back in his timeline and the younger version of the man he used to see in pure blood gatherings had waves, almost locks of hair now cascading past his shoulders. 

 

Slowly but surely Regulus straightened his spine and dropped the last feather he got his beak on and stared back at Abraxas. Waiting for any kind of reaction.

 

The blonde stood there for a few more seconds before opening his mouth, closing it immediately after and slamming the door closed. The owl in the cage tied on top of his trunk cooed quietly before puffing her chest feathers and falling asleep. He stomped towards his bed, his trunk got shoved against the foot of the bed frame not even startling the poor thing. Right before reaching his bed he stopped again, looked back incredulously at Regulus, then the bed next to the chair where the crow was perched on.

 

“What in Merlins name…”, muttered the blonde, his voice a bit higher than Lucius’ was in his teen years, from what Regulus can remember. Which was the only thing he was able to take note of before the other guy took a few long strides to get to Regulus’ half of the dorm and tried to reach for the now very obvious new covers for the bed which had a few of the textbooks for Herbology laying on it.

 

His hand stopped a few centimeters before he could touch the duvet. His eyebrows, now permanently frozen together it seemed because of the frown he had on, managed to get even closer to each other…unlike his hand that didn’t move a millimeter, no matter how hard he tried.

 

After a few seconds of struggle he scoffed out loud before reaching for Regulus’ very empty trunk at the foot of his bed, though he did not open it but move it around until the sloppy nametag Regulus had made in the woods with still some dry dirt on got revealed. 

 

“Blake Zwezdochka? What kind of freak is living here? And what a dirty trunk, unbelievable who they let in these days”, huffed Abraxas before pushing the trunk away from himself and brushing the dirt off his hands. Now, who was he to judge Regulus’ naming choice? He would hope that such a comment wouldn’t come from the guy rubbing his hands together like a fly.

 

Tch.

 

As a response to the unnecessary commentary Regulus cawed once loud and clear, staring the blonde down with his gray eyes.

 

Abraxas jumped a little as the sound reminded him that he and his owl weren’t alone in the room. The guy swirled around to stare right back at Regulus and made a grimace. 

 

“I should’ve known that some filth made himself comfortable here after seeing you”, he said, pointing an accusing finger at Regulus.

 

Regulus really tried to find a reason to not scratch the blondes eyes out, and the more he thought about it the less of a reason he could come up with that could not be countered by ‘well I died already once so-‘ and ‘well, even if I survive he doesn’t know its me so-‘. With that mentality he spread his wings and flew as directly as he could at Malfoy’s face. 

 

An ear piercing scream is what followed as Abraxas waved his arms around, trying to keep Regulus away from his face. 

 

The crow changed his plans real quick, ripping all of that long hair out would probably make the guy weep, he thought as his talons sunk themselves into soft hair.

 

“You wretched beast! How dare you! AHH-“, if Regulus weren’t used to screaming he probably would’ve backed off by now for no other reason than to save his ears from tinnitus. Gosh damn it, this guy had some crazy lungs to be able to scream this loudly.

 

The door slammed wide open, rebounding against the cold stone before the person grasped the door handle properly and stepped inside. “Shut your hole Abraxas! For Merlins sake-“, then he froze.

 

Really, that’s all these teenagers seemed to do, Regulus huffed internally before jumping off of Malfoy's head and landed back on his chairs backrest. Staring the new kid down, who was now just gaping at Regulus, eyes shining like it’s his birthday and all of his friends planned a party. Then that slack jawed look turned into a big grin. “Wowww, Abraxas since when did you get a crow?”, the new guy asked, practically stalking across the room. “Or is it a raven?” He tilted his head, much like a cat. “If it’s the second then it’s a brilliant opportunity to dangle that thing on a rope in front of the blue guys at the next quidditch match haha”, laughed the smaller guy whose dark set of wild locks made it impossible to see his eyes. Regulus cawed a few times, scratching the backrest with his talons as he focused on his new target. What was this teenager even talking about? Hanging a bird on a rope in front of the Ravenclaw quidditch team just because he could was just the most ,

 

The blonde scoffed. “At least try to look presentable for once in your life, Orion. You should think yourself as lucky that your mother encourages a more ‘carefree’ behavior like this or I’m pretty sure your father would’ve snipped it all off by now”, scolded the taller.

 

Regulus’ blood ran cold.

 

“Oh I don’t want to hear that coming from you, Abraxas, seeing as your hair seems fit for a little bird to nest in”, the smaller started to cackle as Abraxas gasped out loud and ran to his trunk, retrieving a small mirror. He was eerily still as his friend seemed to laugh at his dismay.

 

Regulus on the other hand couldn’t care less about Malfoy’s thoughts on the new hairdo at the moment. His only focus was on the giggling boy in front of him.

 

No, that can’t be, couldn’t be, wouldn’t be. It simply didn’t make any sense.

 

The man that first introduced him to the art of blending in with the background to avoid getting dragged into the screaming matches between his mother and his brother. The man that presented him a magpie to train Regulus’ unforgivable and other dark curses. The man that threatened consequences for both children if even one stepped out of line and followed though with his threats. The man that had sat there emotionless on the living room couch as Regulus stormed down the stairs in a panic as his brothers screams got louder and his mothers insults got crueler. The man that used to shut himself in his room all day and night and kept on doing so until the day Regulus died.

 

Regulus felt ill.

 

 

Chapter 25: Too Many People in One Room ffs-

Summary:

Reg: CAW CAW MATHERFUCKER

 

 

If Regulus ever finds his way back to his own timeline he is going to actually throw a table at everyone that thinks it might be an appropriate time to approach him.

 

For some context: he had to fly and dodge spells for the past ten minutes and managed to sit once again on the backrest of his chair afterwards while the two boys took a break from all the running and jumping they did as they tried to catch him. All of this leads him to the here and now, also known as the moment where they start throwing things in his general direction, hoping to hit him. 

 

Circe, they were thick, weren’t they?

Or maybe they just like physical exercise? Because there is simply no way that they were going to be able to hit him with a sock if they couldn’t manage to do so with a spell. 

 

A loud bang penetrated the shouting of his…father —Regulus honestly still couldn’t quite believe that that was the same man just years younger that he had known all his life— and a familiar tall figure strode in.

 

Actually, getting hit by that book didn’t sound quite as bad anymore as it did before it left Abraxas’ hand. Sadly though, Regulus had already dodged it on instinct and was now just flapping around in the middle of the room. Honestly, he’s just happy that both of the teenagers that have been previously trying to harm him had frozen up, even though it was only possible because of the main reason that Regulus smelled like breakfast bacon sometimes.

 

Regulus sat himself on top of a small pile of books on his bed, feeling the security charms enveloping him in their warmth as he kept his eyes trained on the newcomer.

 

“My, my, what’s going on here Black and Malfoy?” There’s amusement dripping from Riddles voice, no, it was more akin to schadenfreude than any genuine humor.

 

“Some younger students managed to hear your shouting while walking past the sixth year corridor and decided to inform me”, he said as he walked in and closed the door behind, his eyes flickering between Abraxas’ wild nest of blonde hair, Orions hands that were filled with various items such as quills and socks and Regulus’ animagus form who just stared right back at him completely still on the bed.

 

“I must say, as much as I appreciate your lung capacity and would recommend you join the school choir, I would still need to ask you two to act like wizards and not some nasty bowtruckles that decided to fight a war in school.” The smile he sent them was chilling. Orion huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, dropping the things he’d gathered to throw at Regulus in the process while Abraxas blushed, less out of anger —like he had when he saw what the self proclaimed hairdresser had done— and more so out of embarrassment at being compared to a bowtruckle. 

 

Riddle raised his arm and pointed towards the crow in the room. “And this? What is this? Are you planning to train it like an owl or?” He tilted his head with raised eyebrows, looking at the other boys in the room to fill in the gaps.

 

Regulus just huffed in amusement at the silence that followed, which came out as a small coo from his beak. Malfoy immediately whipped his head around and glared daggers at the bird.

 

“This! This… thing just attacked me for no reason and laughed at me! Tried to claw my eyes out!” He managed to yell indignantly, to which Regulus almost rolled his eyes at.

Cawing was usually not the equivalent of laughing, especially not the kind of caws that he made when going after the blonde. Those sounds were used as a warning by crows, from what he managed to understand by living in the forest those first few weeks —or was it months…all the stress made him forget to track the time that he had been there— and then some more when he dissected a book about all kinds of birds in the school library.

 

So, Regulus just stared blankly at the blue eyed teenager, hoping to get the unimpressed stare down, even with his animal features. Abraxas shivered slightly and crossed his arms over his chest. Only then did Regulus notice the height difference between all of the boys present. His father was a tad bit shorter than the future dark lord while Malfoy was almost towering over both, though he seemed a bit on the lanky side.

 

Riddle hummed unimpressed, a single eyebrow slowly raising.

 

“No, he’s actually telling the truth”, insisted Orion, nodding his head which made the lump of locks on his head bob up and down. “That bird even managed to evade spells and practically everything we threw at it”, he said as he spread his arms out and waved them around showing off the floor of the room, which now looked closer to a pigsty than part of a Slytherin dorm room.

 

Riddle narrowed his eyes as the corners of his lips tightened slightly, had Regulus not been paying attention he might’ve missed it. He immediately tensed the muscles on his wings, ready to take off if needed.

 

He knew that Riddle already killed an owl not even two weeks ago. He wouldn’t be surprised if that guy would kill a crow just to get the others to be quiet if their incessant yelling ticked him off. Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if Riddle used to kill cats in the neighborhood of that orphanage Regulus found out about a few weeks into his research project to get the locket. If only Regulus could’ve time traveled to that time instead of where he’s stuck now…then he wouldn’t have to sit in a room with his father now being a few months younger than him, the father of his cousins future husband and the future mass murderer and would’ve instead just used avada kedavra as soon as he thought that researching anything on horcruxes was a good idea. 

 

The brown eyes drilled themselves into Regulus’ real gray eyes for the first time. “Well, if that crow understands the wand movements of spells well enough to dodge them, then I would think it belongs to someone. Crows are smart creatures, after all”, he mused.

 

Abraxas immediately jumped in. “Well, of course it does! That filthy dorm mate of mine probably dragged it in and taught it some tricks or whatever”, he huffed, nose crinkled.

 

Riddle hummed questioningly as his eyes strayed from Regulus’ form. “I thought you didn’t have a dorm mate, Malfoy?”

 

A quiet scoff was heard before the tallest shrugged. “I thought so too but Professor Slughorn sent me a letter at the beginning of the holidays informing me of a new student joining the sixth year and that the school board had placed him in my room.” He looked to the side, snarling at the bird. “Though they didn't inform me of the pest he would bring, nor that I would have to share my room with some mudblood.”

 

“Wait, so that’s not a random bird you dragged into the dungeons? Awe man… hey maybe your roommate can gift it to us hehe”, snickered his father. “And if he doesn’t wanna we can just show him why the scared twenty eight are just… better”, a menacing grin spread on Orions face, eerily similar to the ones Sirius would have decorating his face before everyone at the Slytherin table would start coughing red and golden soap bubbles.

 

The grin quickly transformed into a gasp as he spun his body fully towards Riddle, his hands balled into fists and jerking up and down, like a little kid that just has too much energy on the day they got their first wand.

 

“Tom, you’ve been stuck here for the whole three weeks, did you by any chance see the guy? Uhhh what’s his name uhh— Abraxas?” Asked Orion.

 

“Something weird that has an English first part of the name but a Russian sounding last name, though the last name is not from any of the other countries names of pure blood families that I can remember…And don’t scoff at me, Orion, I got much better grades at History of magic than you did last year, because I actually DO listen when the professor tells us and don’t sleep on my table!” Scowled the blonde as the one with the curls just shrugged and stuck his tongue out. “Look at his name tag yourself if you don’t believe me”, Abraxas said as he rolled his eyes.

 

Damn, no wonder his father never said anything about how he acted when he was their age during arguments, unlike his mother who would brag on and on about how much more proper she was and how the youth these days didn’t know any manners. It was because he was just as bad as Sirius!

 

“Anyway, you get the gist—“

 

“Is it Blake Zwezdochka you’re talking about, by any chance?” Interrupted Riddle, staring straight at Malfoy. The taller froze, eyebrows crinkling slightly before nodding. “Yes… I take it the two of you met?”

 

“Well, it’s hard to avoid one another when living in the same space. And you know Slughorn with his enthusiasm of finding talented individuals and making them talk to each other”, he sighed as if he weren’t the one initiating most of their conversations. Regulus would’ve hexed Riddle right then and there for talking out of his arse and making it sound like regulus didn't have to bend himself backwards just to avoid the bastard, if he weren’t pretending to be his own pet.

 

“Oh? So he’s talented?” Damn, if his father could just keep to himself like he had taught Regulus to do all his life then maybe Regulus’ heart rate wouldn’t have to speed up to a dangerous level for a crow. There is no way that he was going to talk to his father who was now a teenager, at least not if he can avoid him.

 

Fuck, he was supposed to sink into the background the moment the rest of Slytherin came back from vacation. But here he was, not even physically as Blake Zwezdochka present but still sentenced to listen to them gossiping about him.

 

Actually, the more Regulus thought about it the less sense it made for him to just sit and wait it out. He had already charmed his bed with some of the strongest charms that existed back in his time, some he even found in his fathers study. So everything that touched his bed, drawer or table that belonged to regulus, including himself would be almost as heavily protected as Grimmauld place. That was something not even his current teenage father could understand, since the specific charms and runes he used for some of the protective spells were created by his father in the future.

 

So he made the impulsive decision —which all of his survival instincts cried out not to do— to take advantage of that. 

 

And what if Riddle decided to throw a certain green unforgivable at him, it’s not like he didn't die once already, Regulus reasoned with himself and his self preservation, and honestly? Talking to his father when all he could see is a reflection of his brother with more lenient parents and way more grotesque curiosities would probably make him wanna use the avada kedavra on himself, thank you very much. He is not going to talk to a younger version of the man that contributed to making his childhood and teenage years a living hell. 

 

With that in mind he decided to teach everyone present in the room a few cuss words he had picked up, or at least the sounds crows correlate with anger in the wilderness.

 

“Well, I’d say—“ 

 

“CAW! CAW! CAW!” Honestly, he felt a bit giddy when he saw Riddles body tense at the sudden and loud interruption and the slight jump the two others made.

 

“What in hades is wrong with you, you lowlife—“, Abraxas cut himself off as the wordless hex he sent Regulus’ way disappeared into thin air a few centimeters before it hit his feathers.

 

The room was completely silent.

 

Regulus almost felt smug, knowing that his plan to shut the future dark lord up actually worked. Now his father wouldn’t deem him interesting enough if he weren’t talented, like in his last lifetime, and go back to talking about how sad it is that he wont be able to traumatize the Ravenclaw students because he couldn’t hang Regulus’ crow body up or whatever he said before.

 

Orion burst out laughing. “Abraxas! Bahahaha! Didn’t you brag —hehehe— in your last letter that you got better at wordless spell work? Hehehehe— guess all that training over Yule didn’t help much, now did it?!” He continued laughing hysterically, slapping his thigh. 

 

Gosh, Regulus realized now that this was probably the family madness that hit his Father, that forced that sweat inducing laugh out, since it just hit him like a hippogriff that he had heard that laugh in the front lines once. Back when his cousin Bella brought him along for his first mission after the ink of the dark mark seeped deep into his flesh and bones…after his birthday presents slowly collected dust on their wrapper since he couldn’t bring himself to open such precious things in a house where they could be seen and snatched away. He had expected back then, that he would still go back to Hogwarts without any issues. In the end, he had to beg on his knees and bow his head like a dog to be allowed to at least finish the semester he had already started. And even then, she laughed just like Orion did, when she found out how pathetically Regulus grasped onto that small window of freedom that was Hogwarts.

 

Regulus cooed some deep notes before hopping off the books and properly lying on his soft pillow. He was happy that there was at last no more ‘Blake’ talk and closed his eyes. As long as he stayed being a boring bird they would leave at some point.

 

“Do any of your bed frames have runes carved into them?”

 

Regulus spoke too soon.

 

Damn it, what was Riddle sneaking around for? The guy was only a meter or so away from Regulus with one knee on the ground as his hand was stretched out, almost touching a bedpost but never quite reaching it. Thankfully there was no locket to transform Regulus into fried chicken, but he damn near jumped out of his feathers at the agitating voice suddenly being so close.

 

“Runes?” Orion peeked up, almost scurrying to Riddles location near the bed and staring at the talkers hand not being able to move any closer. In front of them laid the runes Regulus had carved into the wood with his wand on his first day back in Hogwarts.

 

“Is that why I couldn’t touch anything on his bed…”, muttered the blonde as he too came closer to the bed.

 

“Or why your spell wouldn’t work just now”, added Riddle. 

 

Fuck, when are they going to drop it. Regulus is just happy that he put the protection spells, charms and Runes on everything that was his in this room aside from his constantly empty trunk. Even if they wanted to investigate, they wouldn’t be able to.

 

Orion spoke up. “No, for that to be able to work you would need to write these runes in a way that makes sense.” He traced the carved sigils and letters with his eyes, hand stretched out trying while still knowing he’d fail. “This  composition looks more like chicken scratch. So many overlapping runes, no order, no magic. Or maybe I just can’t see the order yet but this”, he points at the bedposts, “should not work.”

 

“Now, how can you be so sure?” Came the scoff from Abraxas.

 

“Because I, unlike you, take rune classes and have great grades, just like I do in charms. And this composition should logically not be able to function” he pouted. “Well, I hate to inform you, smartarse, but those runes apparently do work”, snarked Malfoy.

 

“I know, alright? I know but it shouldn’t. It shouldn’t. It shouldn’t! I don’t like your dorm mate, Abraxas”, he huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest and stood up to his complete height. “No stupid raven to bust its head in and win us the next quidditch match and a no fun rune psychopath. Ugh I can’t stand thinking that some mudblood managed to make those stupid runes actually work together, ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” With that he whipped around and strode out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

 

And his parents had the gall to call him and Sirius spoiled brats.

 

Some movement made Regulus’ head snap back towards the two other guys in the room. Riddle stood up, Abraxas following before they both took a step back, checking if they would be able to see more runes. The future dark lord turned to Malfoy after a few seconds.

 

“Make sure to write down each and every rune you are able to find before Blake gets back, you hear me?” There was a cold threat in his tone. What sounded like a warning for Abraxas’ own safety was a thinly veiled threat to not get caught, or else.

 

The blonde blinked a few times, seemingly caught off guard about something. “Wait, Tom, you’re not actually interested in finding out what this kids deal is, are you? It’s just some nobody mudblo—“

 

“Abraxas, that mudblood managed to render you useless, so much so that even his pet mocks you. Don’t you feel angry? Don’t you feel ashamed with how you lost against a boy who isn’t even here?” Riddle scrunched his eyebrows together, mouth falling into a frown all of his artificial pity showing up, even more obvious to Regulus than any mask. He was looking into the blue eyes, who now lowered themselves slowly. A flush spread on the blonde’s ears as he balled his fists.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then. Do have the notes by then, we’ll ask Black to try and decipher how they work once more... that is, if you want revenge, Abraxas.”

 

Regulus could feel his feathers puff out a bit. The switch of calling the blonde by his first name in the end wasn’t just because they were friends. No, Riddle doesn’t have friends, he has underlings. He was trying to get an emotional reaction out of Malfoy, and he managed to do exactly that as he walked out of the room and softly closed the door, leaving a deafening silence in his wake.

 

 

 

Notes:

Theres a big chance that I’ll change the chapter names lmao

Chapter 26: Roommates, am I right?

Summary:

Reg: too tired for this shit—
Abraxas: U WHORE-

 

 

Regulus has been stuck laying on his bed for the past five hours. 

 

When was Malfoy going to go to sleep? For fucks sake, not even Evan managed to stay up this late on the first day back for school after any break. And you can trust Regulus, Evan can stay up quite  late. The crow had to suffer through his best friend shaking him awake because he forgot to finish some homework every other break.

 

But this fucker took the cake. Regulus was tired, exhausted, annoyed and so done with all of Riddles little minions. The runes he carved into his belongings were not that hard to replicate, especially since Malfoy didn’t even find the ones on the part of the table that was touching the wall. Probably because the table was so heavy and having to move it didn’t register as an idea for him. So the boy had to actually just jot down the few that were in plain sight.

 

And even after replicating the patterns and writing he still stayed up. The candles on Abraxas’ table were lit and stable as the fire ate at the rope and wax. Regulus had to ask himself if he remembered Riddles orders correctly, since Malfoy had apparently also begun his own research based on what he could find. The blonde used accio on multiple occasions, books flying from his trunk into his outstretched hand while the other dipped his quill into an ink pot. 

 

Regulus knew that Professor Slughorn had said that Abraxas was bright like Riddle, but he could only see that now. Malfoy just couldn’t stop writing. Writing theories probably for an incomplete series of spells and runes.

 

No wonder he was writing so damn long! He’s trying to make sense of something that simply doesn’t! Regulus wished he could bang his little crow head against the headboard of his bed without seeming too suspicious.

 

Maybe of he hit himself hard enough… that way he might actually pass out and get some rest… but he would still prefer to go to sleep with the potion of dreamless sleep at the very least.

 

So he did his best to stay awake for the multiple hours it took Malfoy to move on from whatever track he thought he had found.

 

And Merlin’s balls, did it take a while. That stubbornness was the Slytherin in him, Regulus was sure of it. And Circe be damned if he didn’t hate it.

 

 Regulus was scarily close to just passing out when the frustrated grunt of his roommate managed to yank him from the buzzing warmth he had almost embraced and threw him mind into freeze. His blood was rushing and muscles twitched underneath his feather coat. He had half a mind to open his eyes and make sure nothing was coming his way, but knew that any other animal wouldn’t have even heard the grunt in their sleep, especially if they knew they were safe, which Regulus was.

 

He was safe.

 

So he stayed there, still sleeping for all Malfoy knows. 

 

He heard some rustling going on in the background to his left. Parchment was being shoved somewhere. Then a thump came from the space where he last heard the dry paper brushing against each other. Leather.

 

Regulus forced himself to breathe, there isn’t anything more suspicious than a bird suddenly not breathing anymore, especially if the bird is the only other organism next to the blonde and his owl.

 

Something big and heavy was being moved over soft sheets making a susurrant sound that took a while to silence.

 

Regulus waited.

 

And waited.

 

Until he heard the breaths of the boy in the room even out into weak snores. 

 

Regulus’ whole body sacked in on itself the moment he realized he could finally go back into his human form.

 

Did he like being a crow? Of course. He wasn’t bound by gravity and did not need a broom to be free. He was able to feel the wind beneath his wings, was able to see everything he wanted to look at, was able to study everything and everyone. But being stuck in the same pose that he decided to lay in hours before…let’s just say that he never felt more relieved than right at that moment to be finally able to crawl under his covers

 

His body twisted and morphed back into a human, his metamorphed ‘Blake’ body still in tact. He should probably check up on his wounds tomorrow —wait, today?—, or the day after. He managed to get some herbs and other necessities like frog legs for any type of potion he might need from the room of requirements, so he was all set on healing and sleeping potions. 

 

Regulus slowly crawled towards the edge of his bed, stretched his arm and tugged on the handle of his bedside table or well, cupboard. His stash of dreamless sleep laid there. He quickly pulled one out, uncorked it, drank it like a shot and flopped back on his bed. He pulled his covers up to his nose, already drowsy.

 

Damn it, he thought he would have more time to plan the next few years in closer detail as well as finally perfecting his fiendfyre variation. Guess it’ll have to wait.

 

———

 

Alarm bells were ringing loud and clear. 

 

Regulus didn't even have time to become fully conscious before his body was moving.

 

And move it did. 

 

He opened his eyes, mid jump, off his bed. His left hand was fisting soft fabric, his right one was holding his new wand, ready to stab. Whoever tried to sneak up on him in his sleep would not see the wood coming until it went through their flesh and if he managed to cast a spell coming from the tip of his wand he might be able to catch his attacker off guard enough to run off into the great hall—

 

Wait, Malfoy?! Regulus barely managed to redirect the angle of his first around his wand, though the arm was already set in motion.

 

He needed to move. Now.

 

The body of the taller connected with the hard stone floor. Regulus’ left knee hit the ground next to his hip. 

 

That’s it. He needed to act, fast. 

 

He leaned forward with his full body weight. His right knee scraped against the stone next to Malfoy’s chest as his fist connected.

 

Regulus had to bite his lip to not scream at the fucking idiot. His right hand pinned the blonde hair against the floor, blood slowly seeping into the light strands. 

 

“What… In the unholy name of Merlin do you think you’re doing…”, Regulus grit out between clenched teeth, digging his nails into the palm of his hand to not move his right hand back and actually punch his nose in.

 

Then Abraxas could have matching crooked noses with Riddle…If only Madam Weasley  hadn’t patched up the future serial killer as well as she did.

 

The guy pinned beneath Regulus stared up at him with wide eyes, mouth agape.

 

Regulus scoffed, shuffling around until he managed to throw his left leg up, lean forward a bit more and use his right fist to push off the ground into a standing position. He lifted his right leg over Abraxas’ body, dusted the nonexistent dust off the jumper he had worn before turning into a crow yesterday —which he hadn’t taken off before going to sleep— sighed and turned towards his closet next to the table.

 

Way to make a good first impression…

 

“Yo-you bastard!”

 

There you go.

 

It was just a matter of time.

 

Regulus already mourned the few seconds of silence he had and would never get to enjoy again.

 

“Hm…? Me?” Regulus’ voice was airy, trying to mimic the same tone Pandora used time and time again to seem like an airhead when in reality she probably just hid a file full of blackmail behind her back.

 

“Who else?!” The boy on the floor sat up promptly and scuttled backwards until he managed to prop himself up, brushing actual dust off his clothes from falling to the ground. “You disgusting filthy little— you got your revolting blood all over my hair!” He gagged and gasped as he gripped his hair tightly face scrunching up in the way all nobles got taught. If displeased, try to not to show off too much but get your distaste across. Now though, Malfoy didn’t need to think about seeming charming enough now though, in the presence of a muggle born.

 

Regulus made sure to get the wounds underneath his clothing to look like the freckles that are already visible at the corners of his eyes as he opened the closet and got his uniform out. It’s been almost more than a year at this point ever since he had last worn those garments. Regulus’ hand twitched as he hesitated for a second to take the blouse off the hanger.

 

Of course, he did it. He felt quite out of breath though. A phantom burn spread on his palm, one of his mothers hand yanking the green tie with Slytherin’s crest out of his loose grip after they decided that he didn’t need it anymore. He never got to even study for his N.E.W.T.s… Regulus felt a pang of regret pierce his heart.

 

He knew that he didn’t feel any negativity towards muggle born children. He might’ve not had time to think about it between war preparations and his difficult home life, but after talking to Myrtle daily, thinking about every single interaction he has had in this and his first lifetime with muggle born children and reading muggle literature, he was pretty sure that his need to please his parents to survive, to appease, to be the one child that isn’t allowed to disappoint, might’ve led him to just repeat the words he’d always known, word that weren’t allowed to be questioned.

 

But he had time, some might say that three weeks weren’t that much, but Regulus has never really noticed if the student that sought guidance from the prefect was a pure blood or not. That should’ve maybe brought him to question his own values but… what values? The ones he wasn’t allowed to stray from? Two months he had lived freely, got used to his soul moving and flying, finally away from that godawful cage his parents had built as he spent the third month finally landing from his flight, settling into a nest. Not a cage. A nest.

 

He gripped the tie tightly and put it around his neck. 

 

“Oh Merlin, how am I to get this out before breakfast?” Regulus sighed in exasperation. If only the Malfoy would’ve spent the time Regulus used to get dressed to wash his hair —or at the very least the bloody part of his hair— then he wouldn’t have to moan and bitch about it.

 

Regulus knew that he should probably offer some compensation, or at least some help…but as far as he knows Abraxas shouldn’t have tried to grab him in his sleep. Because unconscious Regulus is still paranoid as fuck, even though he knows that no one would be able to touch him with the charms on his bed.

 

So he just stayed silent.

 

“You! You better fix this you pig!”

 

Okay. That’s it. Regulus is going to crucio his ass— no, he needs to calm down. He needs to be low profile. If he wants constant access to the room of requirements he needs to be forgotten.

 

“Oh I’m sorry… I don't know how… you just kind of, hmm, surprised me. I’m pretty sure that blood is at the very least your own, there was a mosquito—“, Regulus’ airy talk got interrupted by an outraged cry. “You dimwit! Do you think me stupid!?” 

 

Regulus rolled his eyes, back still turned towards the blonde. “Maybe”, he said with a huff before quickly adding: “Well, if you were to look at my hand…”, he trailed off, spreading his right arm out and slightly backwards, making sure that there was a stain —close enough to be confused as a mosquito if you were to not look at it too closely— to be in the middle of his bloodied knuckles.

 

A small stretch of silence followed before his roommate huffed.

 

“No matter, you assaulted me! You need to fix this!” Growled Malfoy as Regulus turned back around, bending down to grab his bag full of second hand books, parchment, ink and a quill.

 

He straightened his back, looked directly into those icy blue eyes, smiled his best detached airhead smile and opened his mouth.

 

“I do not care enough to fix that, I’d suggest taking a shower though”, he sniffed the air a bit, making a show before quickly walking out of the room before he would get yelled at even more.

 

He could feel a headache coming from a mile away. Not enough sleep plus his pesky roommate?

 

Brilliant combo.

 

 

 

Notes:

I wrote half of this at 2 am don’t question typos just tell me abut them if u notice I’ll change it rq-

Chapter 27: A chill morning before class

Summary:

Kind of a filler before everything goes to shit

 

 

Regulus opted out of going to breakfast. Meeting the younger version of his father and the teenage version of his mother both in the timespan of twenty four hours?

 

Yea, he’d like to pass on that. He was just lucky that his mother was going to graduate this year. If he would’ve had to interact with her like a classmate, they would’ve found his cold body in the courtyard by now.

 

Fortunately for the people that would’ve found his body, his parents were a few years apart so he would have to survive around six or five months with his mother in the same building before she was done with school and wouldn’t step on those grounds again.

 

Unfortunately, his father seemed quite close to Malfoy. There’s a chance that he might visit their dorm more often than not. Though his father DID seem to have estranged himself from the world of politics back in Regulus’ timeline, there is no way to be sure if this version of Orion is. Was he perhaps even in kahoots with the future dark lord?

 

Regulus scoffed in the middle of the empty hallway at the mere idea of it. 

 

There is simply no way that his father was Riddle’s minion. Regulus already knew that his mother wast one, she probably barely exchanged words with the younger, but imagining his father? At the feet of that madman? Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous! 

 

The same guy that used to preach to his children about how they should not do anyone’s bidding, how they should prioritize themselves and to be the most powerful of them all? That guy and the thought of him being Riddle’s lapdog didn’t sit right with Regulus. 

 

But if Riddle was not making a distinct line between himself and the others as master and followers, showing off his immense prowess, then what was he doing?

 

The interaction yesterday left him confused.

 

Yes, Riddle commanded Abraxas like the broom of a professional quidditch player at the end but he managed to do so with so much less…crucios’ or imperius’… than what Regulus remembered back in his time.

 

Of course he never had to endure the curse for long, unlike others, because he knew how to not cross a very thin line.  So he only got zapped once or twice in his whole one year long death eater career. And those were the only two times he got into a death eater meeting before obsessing over how to murder a madman—But he digresses, most of his peers back then were also either coddled by their families and didn’t know how to react as desired or reacted belatedly to orders because of fear.

 

Whatever the cause may be, Regulus, in all of those 300 minutes of being in the presence of the dark lord, managed to observe enough, to confidently say that the others temper used to be incredibly short. So much so, that he even found it amusing whenever his death eaters would flinch at a quick second of the cruciatus curse he had flung at them, sometimes even out of boredom.

 

So how come he just stood there? Regulus understood that the future future serial killer was not the strongest wizard as of now, only a bit weaker than Dumbledore —or so it was rumored—, but to not even be able to snark back at Orion? At Orion who practically just threw a tantrum like a toddler—wait, no, like Sirius!

 

Even worse!

 

Honestly, and Riddle didn’t even blink an eye? He not only let Orion walk off easily without being of any help, but also started to talk to talk to Malfoy like they were some buddies? Of course he ordered the boy around, telling him to have the notes by the next day, but he made it seem like it was for the blondes benefit? 

 

Why would Riddle have to do all of those mind tricks? Why would he walk around and act like a friend? Where did that acting disappear in his later life? Of course he wasn’t the strongest person right now, but he should be strong enough to overpower at least some of the pure bloods in this house.

 

Regulus could feel the weight on his hip, not having moved the locket above or below the waistband ever since the fainting incident. 

 

How did Riddle manage to impress so many pure blood families to the point they’d follow him through thick and thin if he wasn’t actively showing them how great he was? Did he impress them before Regulus entered the picture? Is that why they treated Riddle like a friend? Or did he already disclose his heritage to them? But why would he even tell them this much?

 

It’s not like the he particularly trusted anyone. No. That would be completely out of character for the future mass murderer.

 

Regulus could see the change in behavior every time the taller talked to someone new. The switch to a demure smile and a studious spirit roaming fiercely behind brown eyes whenever professor Slughorn was near, the fake relaxed body when stepping near other students and smiling like some hotshot when Myrtle was confused in the library, the seemingly careless grace and friendly authority of a prefect he carried himself with when talking to Orion, the pity in his eyes concealing a smirk as he planted the idea of revenge into Malfoys head when Regulus wasn’t even there for Abraxas to be mad about, and of course, the way he talked to him, Regulus.

 

That infuriating know it all smirk, the momentary surprise whenever Regulus showed him just what he was thinking about his act, and let’s not forget the twitch of annoyance whenever Regulus shoves Riddle’s subconsciousness into his meditative state. Now Regulus was not particularly feeling curious enough to see how the half-blood would act towards him, with his teenage father being there, discussing the runes Malfoy managed to copy.

 

Either way, not smelling like bacon the first thing in the morning seemed quite desirable in Regulus’ eyes. So, here he was, tickling the pear to get into the kitchens.

 

“Hey, Daisy?” Regulus stepped through the small door. “Sorry for dropping by during your breakfast break, just wanted to know if I could get an apple real quick? Or a slice of bread would suffice if you have some laying around, you know, some you didn't send out for the tables in the great hall”, he muttered as his eyes panned from the floor to the kitchen cabinets and even higher until they reached the house elf sitting in her usual corner near some plants and the small wooden table.

 

The smaller jumped a bit, not expecting a visitor so early in the morning. Her eyes widened as she nodded and told him to sit down over her shoulder, walking off hurriedly. 

 

Regulus sighed, at least none of the house elves were nervous with his presence in their space anymore so he was able to navigate around a table and lean on it, planning on heading to his first class immediately. He’d look quite weird, sitting there all alone and unknown to most of his class… but that was something future Regulus would have to worry about he decided as Daisy hurried back to him with a small sandwich in hand. Beaming at her own speed and efficiency she told him to eat up and promised some of his favorite tea to be on the Slythein lunch table that day as a way to ‘boost your morale’ for the upcoming school term.

 

Regulus could only smile as he hoped that the Gryffindoor class that would be taught alongside his class would be rowdy and annoying enough to steer the mini dark lord and his followers’ attention away from him.

 

 

 

Chapter 28: First class of the day

Summary:

Malfoy: soooooooo- wanna hang?*with evil intentions*
Reggie: no—

 

Hope has always been and always will be a futile attempt of making the mind of the dammed feel more at ease.

 

Regulus knew that all too well as he was currently standing in front of the whole defense against the dark arts class, having to come up with something to introduce himself in an inconspicuous way.

 

Would it be too much if he stated his likes and dislikes? Would it be too suspicious if he only said his name? Would the other teens even care enough to think further than that? Well, Regulus could certainly think of at least someone who might think further than that. 

 

Scratch that, he knew of at least two people, if he were to trust his observation skills.

 

 He could —almost confidently— say that if Orion’s outburst and how Sirius would act after a tantrum actually were correlated, that he would not have to panic too much over his fathers momentary attention.

 

The soon to be crazy man and his blonde minion on the other hand… well, he was fucked either way, so he should probably aim for something heartfelt but short while ignoring Riddle and his goons.

 

“Hello, I’m Blake Zwezdochka. It’s nice to meet you all and I hope that we will be getting along well.”

 

That came out well, didn’t it? Smiles slightly, the cutesy smile Sirius caused to coo at —at least Regulus hoped he managed to pull it off again— and slightly bowed his head in greeting.

 

Hushed voices filled the room, a few kids with red ties even waved at him as Professor Merrythought nudged Regulus towards the only empty seat up front.

 

Regulus focused solely on the seat and not his desk mate. If they wanted to talk to him they would, Regulus though wouldn’t try to initiate anything. He had neither the energy nor the enthusiasm of getting to know anyone here.

 

So, it really shouldn’t come as a surprise to him when he felt more so than heard the attention of a certain horde behind his back.

 

“Psst—”

 

Regulus’ eyes flickered quickly to his right, then back at the notebook he took out of his robe. The boy next to him had a red tie and curly, unruly hair—  too similar to Potter for Regulus to care for.

 

“Hey, new kid—wait, Blake, right?”

 

Regulus’ eye twitched. Better to bore him now than to play hard to get, even if the teen was hard to want with the kind of persistence he seems to have ingrained into his soul.

 

“Yes, that would be me”, Regulus whispered back after he made sure that Professor Merrythought was into some sort of flow into her lecture. He saw the brunette move slightly, turning his body to face Regulus. 

 

“Soooo…getting stuck with these guys, huh? Don’t worry though, I heard Riddle’s a real one— he even helped crying Myrtle and—”

 

Circe be damned, how did Myrtle even manage to be known for crying for two generations?! Regulus was despairing on the inside as he decided to blend the other boys whispers out. At least the brunette tried to whisper, even if he did not quite manage to do so— unlike a certain Crouch back in Regulus’ time.

 

Maybe if Regulus manages a way to get Myrtle to let her frustrations out in another way other than crying he’d manage to let that nickname only stick around for a year—wait why was he even thinking about that? He planned on solely getting her to survive until the chamber is closed, or, well, until he graduated. 

 

That is if he managed to survive that long.

 

“Potter! Please, be quiet for once in your life. I’ll deduce five points off of Gryffindoor if you continue disrupting my class”, Regulus had to bite back a smirk as the Professors face got as red as the boy’s next to him. For different reasons though, of that he was sure.

 

Wait a damn minute.

 

Potter?

 

Fuck no.

 

Never before in his life did Regulus want to set a classroom on fire. Well, that was until now.

 

THIS boy is supposed to become the man that practically adopts Regulus’ brother? Actually, no, that makes sense. 

 

Who else would want to take care of lil ol’ broken Sirius other than the nice little fella whose volume control needed some tweaking but still tried to make the new kid feel comfortable? 

 

Regulus wanted to drown. But that was not an option so he decided or just play along, smile apologetically at Fleamont before he returned to his notes.

 

He could hear some people snicker behind him but no one dared to say anything out loud while the professor was still glaring back at the class every other second.

 

Thankfully, class ended quite quickly and Regulus managed to pack his stuff in a similar fashion. Though, he’d prefer if there were no shadows circling his table.

 

“Zwezdochka, got a minute?” Asked the blonde whose voice was eerily similar to his son’s.

 

“Actually, you know what? No—“, is what he wanted to say. But as annoyed as Regulus was, he was not stupid. Riddle might know that Regulus had not an ounce of respect towards him, but no one knew that the distasteful crow the other das had been him. Though, he guessed that the morning spectacle hadn’t been the best way to start off with the other teen.

 

So he did what he did best and smiled. “Well, no, not really. You see I’d rather get to potions class on time and gods know how long the walk down there is and oh! Would you look at that! I don’t have a broom to get there faster so I guess I need to make every second count haha”, if Regulus had to ever tell anyone that he was grateful towards Sirius for one thing then he’s have to say that the ability to talk in circles would be a very noble thing to pass down to the younger sibling.

 

And noble it was indeed as he managed to shove his way through the taller male, shoving his shoulder as Regulus marched off.

 

A hand on his shoulder froze him to his spot. Magic immediately thrummed beneath his fingertips and he had to reign it in before he managed to hey the offending hand off of the body it belonged to.

 

Regulus spun around, a scowl almost breaking through his tense face muscles.

 

“Now, now Blake. That’s a big problem, why didn’t you just say so? We could definitely help you get down there faster, since we’ve been here for longer”, smiled the smug bastard of a human at Regulus before he continued, “That is, if time really was the issue here, and not something else?” With that he tilted his head, making the brown locks dance around those eyes crinkle with some sor of emotion. 

 

That emotion was probably sadism, if Regulus had to guess.

 

Or maybe masochism since he knew what happened to his face last tine he laid a hand on Regulus—

 

“Oh by Merlin’s balls! This again? Guys he’s just some smartass asshole why do you wanna talk to him so bad? Even his crow is more interesting for circes sake—“, Regulus ignored his teen father’s incessant whining that had started since Regulus hadn’t answered.

 

A smile stretched across Regulus’ face, far too wide to be anything but a baring of teeth and a thinly veiled threat. “You should learn to take my words as they are, A dismissal, a ‘no’. So you better back off, Riddle.”

 

Regulus glanced at the taller boys nose, where he had been bleeding only a week or two ago thanks to Regulus’ head. The other boy just huffed, some emotion flashing through his eyes, too quick for Regulus to even try to decipher before it was gone, and along with that the hand on his shoulder.

 

Regulus could breathe lighter as Riddle walked past him, a glaring Malfoy and a few other boys in tow. His father was the last one he saw as he was bringing up the rear of the group and closed the door behind him.

 

“Damn kid, you really shouldn’t talk to a prefect like that.”

 

Can anyone remind him why Regulus couldn’t have any luck?

 

With that thought weighing heavily on his shoulders he sauntered right out of the classroom, leaving a stuttering Potter behind.