Chapter Text
Regulus Black
Regulus Black is having the absolute worst day.
This morning he spent an exorbitant amount of time looking for his school bag before realizing Barty must have stolen it the night before. He probably took it as an annoying attempt to help Regulus relax about his studies so early in the year. It wasn’t Regulus’s fault he recently moved up from “spare” to “heir”- his maman’s words, not his. His parents made it clear that they will inspect every assignment and exam this year to make sure he’s upholding their impossible standards.
They used to only look at his results to have something to compare Sirius’s too- even then they only skimmed the page. Now his maman expects a weekly report to ensure he doesn’t disappoint the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. A recently disowned Gryffindor already accomplished that task, but apparently Regulus’s Astronomy results are what’s standing between their family and total ruin.
Barty shouldn’t be allowed to judge him either. Last spring he almost blew up an empty classroom because he got an E in Transfiguration. Evan, Finn, and Pandora laughed so hard they had to hold each other up when Barty emerged with scorch marks and half an eyebrow missing. Dorcas was in the midst of her O.W.L.s and was decidedly not amused. If this is what Barty does when Regulus stays past curfew the odd night or so to study during their O.W.L.s year, he almost wishes that his eyebrow never grew back.
Regulus had actually stayed past curfew every night for the past week, and while it was their O.W.L.s year, it was also the beginning of October.
He was going to have to barter with Barty, an amusing way to phrase a very not amusing task, before heading to Double Potions. With any luck they’d brew Draught of Living Death and he would be able to sneak a couple sips before Professor Slughorn saw him. If there were orange scones at breakfast, Regulus might have a chance of surviving the day.
There were no orange scones at breakfast, and Barty was in rare form. Regulus arrived at Double Potions scone-less with a school bag that cost him several favors to get back. Barty refused to clarify what they would be, only that one of them was seasonal and all of them were dangerous. He had hoped that Evan would temper Barty and make him slightly more reasonable, but Regulus should have known better than to count on the blonde to do anything productive before noon. Evan was technically awake, however his sleepy eyes were fixed on his plate and his half-hearted mumblings did nothing but make Barty laugh. Useless, truly.
Professor Slughorn decided to start them on making Strengthening Solutions instead of anything even slightly lethal, saving Regulus’s life- unfortunately. That would have been the end of him otherwise- Regulus Black, dead at fifteen because his supposed friend (or pest) stole his bag and he didn’t have his favorite pastry before class. What a way to go. His maman would maybe be slightly upset before devolving into shrieking anger at how he has disappointed the House of Black. His father, well, he would end up reading it in the paper and humming to himself about the misfortune. He might recognize his now only son, he might not.
Double Potions ended up not being completely horrible, and by the last half of class Regulus was hesitantly hopeful that the day had turned around. His mood was upended at the same time his cauldron was. Regulus’s partner, a Hufflepuff whose name he completely forgot, decided to just toss in the Gryffin claws Regulus had just painstakingly crushed instead of carefully adding them by the spoonful. So it exploded- all over Regulus. Hope was dead, and Gregory (Gabriel? Grant?) was the killer.
The potion wasn’t completed, so Regulus did not have to deal with a sudden onslaught of super strength. Instead, he was covered in thick, purpley sludge that smelled faintly of mungbean. He would have taken the super strength instead, but his partner didn’t ask.
Professor Slughorn instructed Regulus to head to the Hospital Wing in case it suddenly decided to turn poisonous.
Currently he is trudging up from the dungeons, covered in the sludge. It seems to be thickening as he walks, which is an unsettling feeling. Regulus cheers himself up slightly by cursing under his breath in a delightful mixture of English, French, and Gobbledegook. Pandora and Finn have been learning Gobbledegook with Dirk Cresswell, a surprisingly competent Hufflepuff that is abnormally interested in goblins. He’s the only student Regulus has ever heard of that stays behind after History of Magic to quiz and argue with Professor Binns. Pandora has actually been making headway with the language, but Finn only remembers the swears. Of course, she makes sure to pass them on to Regulus, Barty, and Evan. Finn is a good friend like that.
Regulus is almost at the Hospital Wing when naturally, the bane of his existence rounds the corridor. Across from him, Sirius grins.
“You, making a mistake in Sluggy’s class! What will our dear mother think?” Regulus lets out a string of swears in Gobbledegook. Finn would be so proud.
“I don’t have time for this Sirius, and I didn’t make a mistake- my idiot of a partner did.” Regulus doesn’t care if Sirius thought the explosion was his fault or not. He doesn’t. Correcting misinformation was just the responsible thing to do, that’s all. His correction just makes Sirius laugh.
“Sure, and I’m coming back home.” One of his brother’s special skills is turning any conversation sour. It’s a gift that Regulus would appreciate more if it didn’t always happen to him.
“Maman wouldn’t let you even if you wanted to. All that’s left of you at home are those disgusting Muggle posters and a burn mark on the family tree.” Regulus shoots out. One of his special skills is making a sour conversation worse. Sirius’s grin twists into something colder and mocking.
“Spend a lot of time staring at those disgusting Muggle posters Reg?” He could feel himself flush. No, he never stares at those awful posters, and not only because maman would flay him alive.
“My apologies,” Sirius interjects, “I forgot you’re a Muggle hater. You know, Cissa hasn’t tied the knot yet with Malfoy. Everyone knows courting your cousin is the best way to stay pure- ‘toujours pur’ right?” Sirius always knows exactly what to say, another talent of his.
“Don’t talk about Cissa like that, and you can’t call me that anymore.” Regulus cringes at the whiny tone in his voice.
“Blood-traitors don’t get to speak to me like family.” Okay that was a bit better. Judging by Sirius’s intense scowl and the hand he places on his wand, he disagrees.
“You’re a coward, Reg , and you always will be. You’ll never stop doing what she wants, and you’ll be a Death Eater before you’re even of age.” Regulus stiffens. He would think Sirius is concerned if he didn’t sound so angry.
“But maybe that’s what you want- following the Dark Lord, killing muggles-”
“That’s not- it’s none of your business what I want, Sirius. Not anymore.” There is a lot more that Regulus could say. He could tell Sirius about the conversations he has with Pandora, the questions he asks her when they’re patrolling at night. He could show him the Muggle book Finn hesitantly let him borrow about a vampire recounting his life and his relationships with the two other vampires that became a twisted family. Part of Regulus aches to tell him, to prove that he isn’t what Sirius thinks he is. But he is, isn’t he. Regulus still nods his head with his maman and says what she would approve of. He isn’t friends with anyone who she wouldn’t like- even his friendships with Barty and Pandora are a stretch for her. And besides, Sirius doesn’t deserve to hear about any of it.
As if listening to his thoughts, Sirius scoffs. In a slightly more serious tone he says,
“She’s going to get you killed. You’ll die in that house, Reg.” And Regulus has nothing to say to that. If his eyes burn when Sirius shakes his head and walks past him, that is no one’s business but his own. If Sirius notices anything he doesn’t say, letting his last words hang in the air. Merlin, he is dramatic.
It only takes a couple minutes for Madame Pomfrey to spell Regulus clean and assure him that death is not imminent. He skips dinner, choosing to instead wander aimlessly through the corridors contemplating what fate has against him. How is he still somehow not the favorite? It’s been a couple hours now and he still doesn’t have an answer. Regulus isn’t quite sure of the time, but he is absolutely certain it’s getting close to curfew. If he was on his rounds then he would be fine, but unfortunately his existential wanderings don’t count as fulfilling Prefect duties. Shame, that.
It’s when he rounds a random corner on the second floor that he hears something that makes him pause and hide back from where he came.
“I can do it, a full Imperio. If you don’t believe me, come with me to the library.”
“What, so you can imperio me to pay my late fees? Seriously Mulciber, I have Double Transfig tomorrow morning.” Regulus isn’t close with Severus Snape, but he does appreciate how Severus is able to constantly sound irritated. His deadpan delivery makes the funniest of jokes sound like they are an inconvenience to say, not that Severus is known to joke much.
“Then you’ll miss out on seeing the fun we can have with an Imperio’d Mudblood. Avery knocked her unconscious when she was studying, probably trying to learn how to steal magic from us. I thought you’d want to practice some of your new spells on her.” Regulus’s blood goes cold, and his breathing stops.
A girl, they had a girl in the library. They were going to Imperio someone in the library, and she was unconscious. Yes, she was a Mudblood, but she was a student. Mulciber said she was studying in the library before Avery knocked her out. She didn’t do anything, and they don’t care. Regulus vaguely hears Mulciber laugh and answer Severus that no, she doesn’t have red hair. Footsteps fade away as Severus dryly wishes Mulciber luck and leaves for the dungeons, and Mulciber starts strolling to the library.
Blood rushes to Regulus’s ears, and he suddenly hears every word that Sirius said to him earlier as if he is standing on his shoulder.
You’re a coward, Reg, and you always will be. You’ll never stop doing what she wants, and you’ll be a Death Eater before you’re even of age. But maybe that’s what you want- following the Dark Lord, killing muggles-
You’re a coward, Reg, and you always will be.
You’re a coward, Reg, and you always will be.
You’re a coward, Reg, and you always will be.
It only takes a couple minutes for him to run from that corridor on the second floor to Ravenclaw Tower, and only a couple more minutes to solve the riddle at the door. Regulus saves some time by banging until someone lets him in.
“I need to speak with Fionnuala Travers please, it’s urgent,” he informs the young girl who opens the door. To her credit, she merely runs a hand over her face and nods, not even flinching at the ink now decorating her cheek. As she climbs the stairs up to the fifth year dormitory, Regulus can’t help but look over her work. She can’t be more than a third-year, but notes upon notes are scattered all over the table. Various scrawlings on parchment in different types of ink cover books that seem to all be focused on levitation and flying. He spies a drawing that looks like a sketch of a featherless bird. Around it are numerous arrows and question marks, and a note to ‘Ask Liam’. It was oddly fascinating. Sometimes he thinks he missed out by begging the Sorting Hat to put him in Slytherin. However that would mean he would miss out on trying to understand Mermish and attending The Coil. Maybe he’ll just ask Finn, Barty, and Pandora more questions about their house, Merlin knows they love talking about it.
It feels like forever until the bird-obsessed girl returns. Finn plods behind her, dark hair fanning messily out over an oversized sweater that Regulus hasn’t seen in Evan’s closet in a while. Her pajama pants are tucked into thick socks, a quirk of Finn’s that she has not managed to pass onto her friends despite her best attempts. When she’s passionately explaining the benefits of tucking your pajama pants into your socks (coziness, warmth, avoiding that horrible feeling when your pant leg climbs up to your knees), you’d never be able to tell she’s a member of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
The pureblood in question yawns and thanks the other girl, who’s already returned to her mountain of notes.
“What’s going on Reg? It’s a quarter to nine.”
“Avery has a girl unconscious in the library,” Regulus rushes out, “I overheard Mulciber talking to Severus about it and he said he was going to Imperio her.” Finn straightens, her sleepiness vanishing.
“What?”
“I don’t know who she is, but she’s a Mudbl- Muggle-born, and Mulciber was bragging about the fun they were going to have with her. Severus didn’t take him up on it, it’s just Mulciber and Avery,” he pauses, “I don’t know how much time we have.”
“Merlin,” Finn looks sick, but her eyes harden when they meet Regulus’s gaze.
“Okay, you can’t come with me in case they see you, we know that,” Finn thinks out loud. A part of Regulus hates that she says that first, as if he’s the one that needs to be protected right now. A larger part is grateful that Finn understands the dangers of his maman almost as much as he does. Lived experience gives him a slight leg up.
“Go tell Barty and Evan to meet me there, they can deal with Mulciber and Avery while I take care of the girl.” With that, Finn is gone, running down the corridor at a speed he’s never seen her match without her broom. Regulus goes the opposite way in search of the two wizards Finn expected him to find.
Barty and Evan are in the Slytherin common room, playing a half-hearted game of Wizard’s Chess, when he comes across them. Barty must have snuck in again after curfew, although everyone is confused as to how he keeps getting away with this. Regulus is also confused about how Evan can lose every game to Barty and not care. Evan says it’s because he doesn’t have a competitive spirit, but Regulus has seen him root for the Magpies in the League Cup. That’s definitely not it.
“It’s so good of you to stop by,” Barty jokes, spotting him entering the room, “but I don’t need to collect a favor right now.” Evan elbows the smug Ravenclaw without looking away from the knight he’s about to lose to Barty’s queen.
“I do,” Regulus responds.
“Finn is going after Mulciber and Avery, she needs you to deal with them when she’s done.” Barty and Evan sit up, easily abandoning an already won game.
“What did they do?” Evan asks. And Regulus tells them. When they march out, wands in hand, he puts away the chess pieces they were playing with and tidies up the board. Then Regulus waits. He thinks about how he’s a coward even when he’s brave, and he watches the flames in the fireplace burn a bit brighter right before they die out completely.
He hears his brother in his ear.
A.N. The ‘bird-obsessed’ girl is trying to figure out how to make the Wizarding version of airplanes- Regulus does not recognize her genius. There’s also a sneak peak to a Slytherin-exclusive experience that will be explored in later chapters. The houses could be so much cooler than they are in canon!
Regulus has a fondness for orange scones, secretly reads An Interview with a Vampire , and thinks about his brother a lot more than he’d like.
Next chapter, Finn and Mary talk about Natalie Cole and neuroscience, Barty and Evan are the bodyguards I wish I had, and we support SA survivors