Chapter Text
“I’m heading out Arthor.” Regulus calls as he grabs his old coat from behind the old hotel’s check in desk. It's a dark and old wooden table that blends in well with the rest of the old Hotel. It's not exactly a five-star experience, hell not even a two star, but it's the only hotel in the small town so it gets enough customers that Regulus gets an okay paycheck working here.
“Wait a moment!” Regulus hears his boss' call from the small office down the hall from the lobby. Regulus groans softly as he stands at the door ready to leave and pick up his son from the school’s summer daycare camp. The teacher working it has been getting tired of Regulus’s near constant tardiness and Regulus fears Harry might be hit with the crossfire.
He thinks of just leaving without waiting, Arthor wouldn’t mind, he understands the struggle with him having his own six kids already. It's the only reason he lets Regulus off the hook when he is late or has to call off at the last minute to take care of his son.
The moment before Regulus planned to leave, he spots the man rushing down the hall. His red hair shifts widely as he rushes towards Regulus and his old suit jackets hug his soft body in a way Regulus has to guess is uncomfortable.
“Here! Molly wanted me to give this to you.” He says once he reaches Regulus. Suddenly Regulus notices the old tote bag in the man’s hand. Regulus immediately feels anxiety in his stomach the moment he sees it, he wants nothing more than to shrink in on himself but instead he stands up peak straight trying to not look like he is falling apart, he has seen this bag too many times before. It's a constant reminder that he isn’t doing enough for his son.
Arthur seems to notice Regulus’s posture and sighs before looking at Regulus with soft eyes that Regulus hates to see.
“It's just some clothes that Fred and George grew out of, sweaters, uniforms, jeans, I think a coat too.” Arthur says pushing the bag into Regulus’ hands.
“You just gave me summer clothes a few months ago.” Regulus says, trying to give the bag back “Give them to Ron instead.” Regulus’s boss just smiles and refuses to take the bag back.
“Ron has plenty of hand me downs already, perks of having twin older brothers, there are too many clothes for one younger sibling.” Arthor says it too easily with a laugh. Regulus just remains silent, glaring at the man who now sighs and looks at him more seriously.
“Just take them Regulus, Harry needs them, and they will just go to waste if we keep them.” Arthur says and Regulus scrunches his nose in annoyance. He’s right, Harry has had a growth spurt as most six-year-olds do so now his old winter clothes will be too small which could lead to teasing this upcoming school year. Regulus doesn’t have enough to even buy the two of them premium food, let alone Harry a new wardrobe.
“Fine.” Regulus says tanking the bag that feels like it weighs ten times more than it should. “But I’m babysitting your hoard on Friday, you and Molly can go do something nice.” Regulus says allowing no room for argument in his tone. He refuses to be treated like a charity and genuinely wants to repay the act of kindness that the Weasley's give him. It may not seem like a gesture, but the Weasley kids are known to be wild so it's hard for Molly and Aruthur to get babysitters.
Aruthur laughs at Regulus’s stubbornness, going to open the door for him.
“Molly already bought tickets to a play.” He says, “You're too predictable Black.” The man laughs and Regulus just rolls his eyes as he walks out the door towards the small parking lot. He makes his way to the old blue truck; it's the only thing that Sirius left behind when he left. Regulus would like to think he did it because he knew Regulus would need it, but he’s almost one hundred percent sure it's because it's a piece of junk and Sirius didn’t want it anymore.
Regulus unlocks the side door, throwing the bag up into the passenger seat before heading over to the driver seat. He climbs up into the tall vehicle with practiced ease before starting the engine and pulling out of the lot.
The drive to the school isn’t too long, but it's long enough for Regulus to take a moment to himself. There are very few moments where Regulus is alone and this fifteen-minute drive is one of them. He lets the windows down just a crack, the way he likes it, drives easily down the old roads with one foot on the gas and the other pulled up close to his chest like he did when he was a kid. He turns on the radio, singing along to the music quietly, not censoring himself at the swears like he does when he’s with his son. He loves Harry, he truly does, but he really appreciates these moments to himself as well.
By the time he pulls into the elementary school, he curses as he sees the lot is mostly empty. He sighs in defeat when he sees its 6:32. He’s 17 minutes late. He doesn’t bother to try with parking, double parking extremely and is instantly hopping down and rushing into the school.
As soon as he opens the door to the auditorium, he sees a blur of dark curls come running towards him.
“Papa!” his son yells running towards him. Regulus smiles and picks his son up into his arms the moment the kid comes in contact with his legs. His son is already bigger, taller, heavier now, making it a struggle to hold him, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. He blames the boy's other father’s genes, another reason to hate him.
“Hey Haz, how was camp?” Regulus asks, smiling down at his son who begins to ramble on about his day. He pointedly ignores the middle-aged woman who is glaring at him a few feet away.
“- and I tagged everyone out so then draco had to chase everyone again! It was so fun, and everyone said I was so fast!” Harry tells him excitingly retelling what happened during recess.
“I bet.” Regulus says and true joy starts to build up in his chest. He’s so happy he put Harry into the private school program. When he was in the public kindergarten he was constantly left out by the other children and scolded by teachers due to not being able to sit still. He confided in the Weasleys about it, and they immediately recommended the private school a few ways away. At first Regulus thought there was no way he would be able to afford that, but the Weasley's, due to them putting so many kids through it, were able to pull some strings and get Harry a grant. It doesn’t pay everything, Regulus still pays a hefty sum, but it seems just from the summer day camp that Harry is doing so much better here. The teacher, though she hates Regulus, seems to be able to manage Harry well, and the kids love him here.
“Yeah, I’m the fastest!” Harry cheers, “I bet I could even beat you, Papa!” he cheers, and Regulus just laughs before being interrupted by the teacher.
“Yeah, I bet you could, Harry.” She says sweetly but Regulus can pick up on the double meaning, so he just ignores her.
“Hmm we will have to race to the car to see.” He tells Harry who cheers and begins to squirm to get out of his father’s hold. He is already heading to the door before Regulus can even get another word out.
“Sorry” He mutters to his son's caretaker because he’s not a complete dick, and then he’s chasing after his son.
“Harry, wait for me.” He calls only to hear his son's laughter in return. Lucky once he’s outside he sees his son waiting at the concrete in front of the lot like he was taught.
“Your slow papa.” Harry says with his hands on his hips and head held high. Regulus wants to take a picture, but he resists. His shitty camera quality wouldn’t capture the moment anyways.
“You cheated.” He says meeting his son at the concrete who just pouts in response. “Let's race to the car.” he says, only because the lot is completely empty. His son cheers and the two of them get in ready stances.
“On your mark.” he starts, voice dramatic. He can see Harry inching forward with excitement. “Get set, Go!” He calls and then they are off. He hears Harry laughing as they rush through the lot. Regulus, due to being a grown adult, of course was much faster. He isn’t the type of parent to let his son win but he doesn’t let the gap get too big.
He slaps his hand onto the old truck once he reaches it and only a few seconds later Harry hits the truck.
“Not fair!” He cries immediately and Regulus just gives his son a knowing look.
“I won fair and square, now c'mon.” He says ushering a whiny harry to the backseat. He lifts his son into the truck and sits him into the booster seat. Harry slaps his hands away, saying that he can strap himself in so Regulus lets him be and heads to his own seat.
“Don’t be a poor sport Harry, losing doesn’t mean you're any less fast, it just means that you need to keep practicing.” He tells his sulking son as they begin their drive home. Harry just grumbles in return and Regulus can see him crossing his arm in the back. Regulus rolls his eyes at the cranky soon to be first grader before grabbing a CD and putting it into the truck’s slot. His son perks up at the first song but tries to stop himself from showing too much joy. He sure got Regulus’ stubbornness gene.
Regulus grins knowing that his son won’t be able to hold back for much longer. The CD is full of their favorite songs, Regulus made it for his birthday, downloaded all the songs on the computer at the hotel and took it to a place to get it put into a cd so they could listen to it in the car.
“Too alarming now to talk about.” Regulus sings loudly along with the old track.
“Take your pictures down and shake it out.” He continues and looks back at Harry who is fighting a losing battle. The boy's feet are tapping to the beat, and Regulus knows his hands are itching to pat his lap to the beat. The boy has been obsessed with drums since he was a baby, Regulus wishes nothing more than to get the kid a set, but he can’t see that happening for many years.
By the time the song reaches its course Harry is singing on the top of his lounges with Regulus, getting half the lyrics wrong. His hands slap anything around him to the beat, he laughs and dances along to the song with his hair flying all over.
Regulus smiles and sings along with the boy, nodding his head along with the song not able to fight a smile. Sure, he may like his rides alone, but nothing beats these moments.
“He’s Ordinary!” They finish the song, and Harry dramatically pretends to hit a cymbal. The next song plays on the track and Harry begins to sing, in his own little world. Regulus on the other hand just listens to his son with a smile on his face as they make their way back to their home.
Regulus turns into the small gravel driveway stopping in front of the house. It is a small dirty white house, the grass around it is full of patchy grass but the small garden beside the doorstep is thriving only due to Regulus and Harry’s work.
Harry groans as Regulus shuts off the car, the music going with it before he’s swinging the car door open and hopping down.
“Don’t forget your backpack!” Regulus calls before the boy can close the door.
“Ughh.” His son groans, scrambling to get his bag before running into the house. Regulus just shakes his head; it's going to be a long afternoon. He grabs the bag the Weasley's gifted and heads inside.
He takes his shoes off at the door and slides into his house shoes. He groans silently at the small shoes throne on the floor rather than put onto the old shoe rack.
“Harry, come move your shoes!” Regulus calls through the house. He doesn’t have to be two loud, the house is extremely small. A living room and kitchen only separated by counter, one bedroom, and one bathroom. He can hear Harry grumble from his room as he comes out quickly going to move his shoes.
Regulus moves past his son, putting the bag of clothes onto the old couch. It must have piqued Harry’s interest because he quickly sits beside it on his knees going to open it.
“What is this?” He asks, struggling with the knot.
“Some clothes from the Weasleys.” Is all Regulus says watching his son light up as he opens up the bag.
“Yay!” The boy yells and begins tearing through the clothes. He takes a moment to inspect all the clothes excitingly babbling about them to Regulus who just watches his son. He feels happy he accepted the bag from Arthur.
He watches Harry go through the bag for a few more moments before heading to the kitchen ready to fix dinner. He looks into the cupboards expecting to see some leftover Tofu soup but is completely shocked to see the bowl gone from the fridge. He takes a moment willing himself not to freak out. Those leftovers were meant to be tonight's dinner.
He isn’t usually able to make Korean food for Harry, but he splurged a bit this past week only because he planned to make the meal stretch for two days.
“Harry!” He called, trying to hide the worry in his voice. “Did you move the soup?” He asks his son, hoping that he may have set the food out early.
“No, its all gone!” Harry calls from the living room clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation. Regulus plans their meals two weeks at a time when he gets his pay check. He has little money to be using as petty cash, so food is always a bit tight. There are weeks where he can’t give Harry the treats he wants because he knows he has to save for extra gas to take him to a friend’s house, or weeks where he can give Harry extra treats because he didn’t need to do as much laundry the week before. This week was one of the weeks where they had to cut back.
“I finished it last night.” Harry goes on and Regulus has to calm himself, refusing to yell at his son.
“What?” He asks, trying his best to not reveal his stress and sound relaxed.
“I’m sorry Papa, It was just so yummy I was thinking about it all night and couldn't sleep because I was thinking about, and you know that you say sleep is important so I knew I had to eat it or else I wouldn’t be able to sleep an-” regulus at some point began to tune out his son’s rambling. He takes a few moments to breath trying to repress his anger and anxiousness, refusing to let his son see but it's so hard. Harry knows he’s not supposed to sneak into the kitchen; he is supposed to ask Regulus for food when he’s hungry. He knows it's not the best way of living, but it stops moments like this from happening. Regulus turns to close the empty fridge and looks into the cabinets hoping to find something the two can eat.
He wants to cry when he sees nothing but a can of spam and some pancake mix. Harry hates spam and only likes pancakes if they are made with milk, which they don’t have right now. He hates moments like this, where the struggle is so prevalent. They were having a semi okay day, but Harry will have a tantrum if they have to have this for dinner and Regulus doesn’t have the patience to deal with this tonight. He rests his head against the old cupboard, closing his eyes, trying to stop the tears from slipping out.
He still can hear Harry who has changed subjects, now gushing about the orange sweater he had gotten. Regulus feels another knife to his heart, his sweet Harry, who deserves the world but only has Regulus, and his shitty house, his shitty car, and his shitty food.
“Papa!” He hears Harry call excitedly after a while. He takes a moment squinting his eyes shut trying to collect himself.
“Yes Haz.” he says trying to sound normal and not like he’s on the verge of a meltdown.
“There’s Tot Casserole in here!” His son calls causing Regulus’s eyes to snap open.
“What!” He calls moving immediately towards the living.
“Casserole!” His son cheers again as Regulus walks into the room. He’s greeted with the sight of Harry happily holding a tupperware container surrounded by clothes, still wearing the thick coat he had found. He can’t even process, all he does is walk over to his son drop down next to him and hug him.
“Thank God for Molly Weasly” he thinks to himself.
“Papa let go!” His son whines after a few moments of being squeezed by his father. Regulus obliges hesitantly and takes the casserole from his son.
“You can watch tv while I heat this.” Regulus says as he heads the kitchen again. Harry cheers running towards the thick tv, clicking it on.
Regulus stands in the middle of the kitchen watching as the tupperware goes round and round in the microwave while listening to whatever recorded PBS show Harry is watching. He feels stupid almost crying over fucking dinner, when did his life get like this. How did it turn from long nights out, concerts, hotels, flights, into twelve-hour shifts, canned food, and sleeping on a fucking couch. Sometimes he thinks of what his life would be like if he had just taken the small white pill, but then he hears Harry laughing at the stupidest cartoons and knows that there is no reality without Harry that he is happier in, no matter how little money he has.
The rest of the night is spent as normal. They eat dinner on the coach; Harry continues to watch Tv until Regulus tells him that electronic time is over. Then the boy heads to his room to do who knows what, read, draw, play with figures. Regulus remains on the couch for a moment relaxing before getting up and cleaning the plates, putting the leftover casserole in the fridge. He takes a little extra time to clean the house a little bit, sweeping the floor and whipping down the chipped cupboards. Once he’s done, he begins to set up his bed.
He takes the couch cushions from the Couch, setting them against the wall of the room before unfolding the pull-out bet. He takes his time pulling on the fitted sheet before layering on two blankets. He finishes it off with a pillow.
Once he’s done with that he heads to the small bathroom. He showers quickly, keeping the water cold so Harry can have it warm, then he finishes getting ready for bed. Pajamas, brushes his teeth, washes his face and combs his hair.
“Harry, wash up!” He calls to his son as he steps out of the shower. Once he hears the sound of small feet rushing to get ready, he lets himself relax and flop onto his bed.
“Remember to get behind your ears.” he tells Harry as he walks towards the bathroom in his robe.
“I’m not a baby papa.” he whines before closing the door. Regulus laughs bittersweet because it's true, Harry isn’t a baby. He doesn’t need Regulus to bathe him anymore; he doesn't even need Regulus to remind him how to. He sighs before taking out his phone for the first time this afternoon. He doesn’t expect to see much. He doesn’t talk to anyone much these days, all his friends moved out of town years ago, they keep in contact somewhat, but they have their own lives.
Needless to say, he’s shocked to see a missed call from Barty Crouch Jr. He hasn’t spoken to him in months, it's neither of their faults, just both have busy lives, but still sometimes it feels like Regulus was left behind. Out of everyone, he’s the only one who’s stuck in Springville, everyone else was able to get out, but not Regulus. So yes, he misses his friends, but talking to them is a reminder of what could have been.
He spends some time just looking at the notification before deciding to call back. The phone rings for a moment, but suddenly he hears his oldest friend's voice.
“Reg!” He cheers “How are you mate?” He asks, sounding nothing but happy to hear from his friend.
“Hello Barty, I’m good, how are you?” Regulus asks, not able to hide his own grin.
“Geeze Black, did you suddenly get manners after all these months.” His friend teases. Regulus rolls his eyes, this is why he never calls.
“Last time I tried to be nice to you, you slag.” He snaps sharply, only cursing cause he is sure Harry can’t hear him over himself singing in the shower.
“Ah there he is.” Barty says with a loud cackle that Regulus suddenly misses.
“Why are you calling me Barty?” Regulus asks, sounding annoyed but his friend knows there is no real bite in his tone.
“Can't I just miss my bestest friend?” His friend asks and Regulus actually laughs. In no way does he think Barty doesn’t care about him, but he and Barty have been friends for nearly two decades. They could go years without talking and still be fine and secure in their relationship, so no, Barty, one of the top male models in the world, would not just call Regulus for no reason.
“Mhmmm, and I’m a virgin.” Regulus jokes dryly. “What do you want?” He asks again. He hears his friends hum through the phone before speaking.
“Okay you got me.” he admits “I just wanted to let you know…” he stops for a second forcing a dramatic pause.
“Rosie Senior Passed away!” He cheers loudly into the receiver causing Regulus to be confused. Yes, he’s happy the abusive shitbag kicked the bucket, but this could have been a text. The rosier twins have not seen their father in the past four years at least; that’s the last time they visited.
“Yay?” Regulus says, a bit unsure of how he was supposed to react. He hears his friend groan in annoyance.
“Do you know what that means?” He asks, sounding almost offended that Regulus didn’t understand.
“That Evan and Pandora are orphans?” Regulus asks, genuinely confused.
“No!” Barty yells clearly having enough of Regulus’ cluelessness. “Evan and Pandora have to come down to sell the house and stuff, and of course as Evan’s boyfriend I’m coming too.” Barty says, sounding as smug as ever.
Regulus feels his jaw genuinely drop. His friends are coming here? He can’t help the excitement that bubbles up into his stomach. It's been four years since he had last seen his friends, it's been a lonely four years at that, just him and Harry. He has the Weasley's of course, but they are closer to parent figures than friends. The age gap is too wide for them to spend time together socially outside of the occasional dinner.
“You're joking.” He says, praying that this is not some sort of joke.
“Absolutely not, we fly tomorrow and should be in town by seven.” his friend says, and Regulus can’t even begin to process.
“Your.. what?” He asks and Barty just laughs. “We can go to Three broomsticks like old times, he says.” he says excitedly, and Regulus immediately snaps out of his shock.
“Absolutely not,” he says, because the three broomsticks was a big no for Regulus. It's a small shabby restaurant with a stage where live music is played every weekend night. It's where he and his friends spent every weekend of their childhood, where Sirius and his friends first played a set, where Regulus had his first kiss. It's a place that is held with some of the happiest moments of Regulus’ life that have now become the most painful memories.
“C’mon reg! Don’t be a spoiled sport!” Barty whines into the phone. Barty doesn’t get it; he wasn’t left behind like regulus. The restaurant isn’t a reminder of what could have been to Barty, it's a reminder of where his dreams had started. It was a photo of Barty at the three broomsticks that has gotten him discovered. It was taken on some shitty digital camera by Evan, yet Barty looked ethereal, the moment it was posted online he had gotten an email from a small agency, and it's been history ever since.
“I’m not going.” Regulus snaps sharper this time, it seems to stop Barty for a moment and the second he right himself he is interrupted by Harry who is leaving the bathroom.
“Papa, I'm done! And I cleaned behind my ears too.” he calls happily as he stands in front of regulus’ makeshift bed.
“Is that my Godson!” Barty screams through the receiver as he hears the father and son talking but Regulus ignores him.
“Good job Haz, did you brush your hair?” Regulus asks because if not it will be one big knot of curls in the morning.
“Yup!” His son says chest puffed out with pride.
“Put me on speaker right now, regulus!” Barty screams from the phone so loud that Regulus wines and Harry notices Regulus on the phone.
“Who is that?” He asks creeping closer towards Regulus’s bed. Standing at the side of it. Regulus sighs before answering, knowing how Harry will react.
“Your uncle Barty.” He says, unenthusiastic and suddenly both Harry and Barty are Yelling.
“Uncle Barty!” Harry shrieks as he grabs the phone from out of Regulus’s hand without warning. Regulus can hear a faint “Harry!” From the phone speaker. He shakes his head but smiles. Harry hasn’t actually seen Barty since he was two years old, but he’s still always excited whenever he’s on the phone, constantly asking him questions that Barty is more than happy to answer. Regulus quickly takes the phone from his son who cries out in protest for a moment but settles when he puts Barty onto speakerphone.
“Guess what buddy.” Barty says a voice ringing out through the small home.
“What? what?” Harry asks, basically bouncing on his toes in excitement.
“I’m coming to visit you tomorrow.” Barty says cheekily and Harry immediately cheers.
“Really?” He pulls Regulus’s hand close to his face so he can have the phone as close to him as possible.
“Yep, and so are your uncle Evan and aunt Pandora.” Barty continues on, clearly pleased at Harry’s reaction. The boy begins to jump up and down, basically dancing in excitement.
“Yes! Yes! Yes! I’m gonna show you my figures, and my room, I can also show you my new clothes and and-.” Harry is talking so fast that Regulus is scared he might turn blue. “I'm gonna show how fast I am, I bet I’m faster than even you.” Harry finishes smiling wider than Regulus has seen in a while.
“Oh, we will have to see about that won’t we.” Barty says, sounding serious to Harry’s ears but Regulus can hear the mischief in his friend's voice. Harry looks like he’s about to rise to his uncle’s challenge but Regulus swifty interrupts before he can go on a tangent.
“Well, we will have to wait until tomorrow to see, Harry it's time for bed.” he tells his son gently and watches as his shoulder slump.
“But Papa, I’m not even tired.” He says but Regulus knows that if he doesn’t sleep well tonight, he will be a nightmare in the morning.
“Hmm maybe,” regulus says while going to brush his fingers through his son’s hair. “But you will need to sleep so you have energy to race your uncle tomorrow.” That seems to do the trick and Harry’s interest is caught. He perks up quickly going to hug his papa.
“You're so right! I need to train!” The boy says as he squeezes Regulus. Regulus just squeezes him in return, humming in agreement.
“Goodnight Haz.” He says before kissing his son’s head and letting him go.
“Good night, Harry! See you soon.” Barty calls through the phone. Harry untangles himself from his papa and begins the walk to his own room.
“Goodnight papa, Goodnight uncle Barty!” The boy calls and then disappears into his own room. Regulus sighs before laying back onto the bed, he takes the phone of the speaker and puts it to his ear, not wanting to be too loud and disturb Harry.
“Ah he’s such a delight.” Barty says into his ear and Regulus snorts.
“You haven’t seen him when he has to wake up at any time earlier than 10am.” Regulus says he loves his son but he’s a little menace.
“Hmm just like his father.” Barty says offhandedly as if he’s just thinking of an old friend, technically he is but Regulus actually gasps in shock.
“Barty” he says warningly. It's a rule, they never talk about Harry’s father, in fact Regulus doesn’t even see the guy as Harry's father. He wasn’t there for Harry's first birthday, for his birth, or even for his pregnancy. He’s nothing but a sore memory that Regulus tries so hard to forget about. He tells himself he’s over it, that he doesn’t care, that he doesn’t need or want him in their lives but it's hard. Especially hard when he’s constantly reminded of the life that He had been abandoned for.
The marauders, the band James Potter, Harry’s Father, is in, is one of the biggest music groups in the world for the past five years. They had gone from underground to worldwide rock sensation in the span of seven years. Their songs are constantly played in stores, the radio, and any other setting where music is played. Regulus hates it, the constant reminder of the people who had left him.
“Regulus, you can’t still be upset at him.” Barty says softly, like he’s nervous for Regulus’s response.
“You can’t say what I can’t be mad about!” Regulus snaps into his phone. He knows Barty isn’t trying to be condescending, he knows Barty’s right. It has been almost seven years since he has seen or heard from Harry’s Father, but the wound still feels fresh whenever it gets unbandaged like this. He has loved Harry’s father, truly loved him like a fucking idiot. He was older, handsome, had the same dream as Regulus and thought that Regulus was fucking capable. They had been in love for four years, started dating at fourteen and only for James to leave him three years later when Regulus was seventeen. Maybe Regulus was stupid, but he truly thought James would be the one, he thought he would get lucky and find his one true love the first time, of course he was fucking wrong. Or maybe he wasn’t but it's still a tragedy.
“Sorry Reg, you're right, that was out of line.” Barty apologizes immediately once hearing Regulus' tone, he knows he’s still not ready to talk about it. Regulus never really talks about his feelings or his struggles, instead he writes. He’s done it since he was a kid, he writes journal entries, poems and stupid lyrics that are now pointless. Regulus remembers a time when he would perform them, laying his heart out for everyone in the three broomsticks to hear. It was fun, truly was, it was his dream to stay like that, but things had changed the minute he took that pregnancy test, even more so the moment James had left.
“Yeah” Is all Regulus can say, because Barty was out of line. He hears his friend sigh loudly, obviously annoyed at regulus’ dry answer.
“Well, I’ll let you go, reg.” his friend says after a moment, knowing regulus is checked out of the conversation. “I’ll see you tomorrow year?” He asks, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah asshole, see you tomorrow.” The two say their goodbyes and hang up. Regulus lays in his bed just staring at the ceiling for a while. He listens for any sign that Harry is still awake, but the house is quiet. He tries his best not to think of the walking nostalgia that will be visiting tomorrow. He’s excited to see his friends, don’t get him wrong. But if that conversation with Barty is any indicator of how the visit is going to go then Regulus will be around constant walking reminders of his past and the life he could have had. After another few minutes of fretting, he finally feels himself get tired. He closes his eyes allowing sleep to take over him slowly.