Chapter Text
CW: death, grief
Regulus’ stomach growled, a sigh leaving his lips as Barty’s words mingled with the rest of the murmurs of the Great Hall. He wasn’t paying too much attention to him, his thoughts elsewhere. He sat at the long Slytherin table with the others, awaiting the Headmaster’s arrival for the beginning of the evening feast.
He spotted a few owls swooping through the arching window above the staff table, a familiar mess of feathers amongst them. Etoile, the Black Family owl. Regulus raised his arm, to where she landed. She extended a pristine black claw that held an envelope, her beady eyes fixed expectantly on Regulus. He accepted it with a nod, taking note of the Black Family crest stamped into the black wax that sealed it. Then, he frowned as he did.
It was unusual, receiving something from his relatives directly. That was a responsibility left for the family heir, Sirius Black, while Regulus watched from across the hall with slight envy and was left wondering what he’d been told in it. But now, with Sirius having been disowned, that fell onto Regulus’ shoulders instead. Regulus Black was the heir now.
He opened it carefully, pulling out the paper and politely thanking Etoile before she flew away. His grey eyes ran over the elegant handwriting to check the signature at the bottom and prepare himself for whatever he would soon find out.
Orion Black.
Regulus huffed lowly when he felt Barty’s interest piqued, his friend’s attention drawn to the letter he held in his hands; his neck stretched over his shoulder so he could snoop. Unfortunately, Regulus trusted him enough with whatever information was inside, even though he probably shouldn’t have at all.
Regulus,
I am writing to you, bearing tremendous news. As you know, for the past few months, your mother has begun behaving peculiarly. Her emotions overcame her after awhile, spending most of her day closed behind the doors of our bedroom and crying.
It has gotten progressively worse ever since you left for your 5th year. My worries grew for her each day, though I figured she has been going through a period of truly intense sorrow, and that leaving her to her own devices would be the best medicine.
This late afternoon, your mother was found dead.
During this time that we will be adjusting, I advise you to do your best with continuing your studies. At the end of the week, on 16th of October, you will be transported home to prepare for your mother’s funeral, Monday, the 18th of October. Pack what you deem necessary for the 4 days you will be away.
Orion Black
Regulus looked at the paper, blinking slowly as he went back and read over the same sentence again. Your mother was found dead. He swallowed thickly, feeling the weight of Barty’s head off his shoulder, but the intensity of his gaze remaining. The attention felt too threatening to face. Regulus wished his father had addressed the matter verbally, so he could’ve had control over when it’d be time to share it.
It was nauseating. He felt too raw and vulnerable under his friend’s stare, who was expecting some kind of insight Regulus couldn’t afford to share. An ache rose in his chest, heavying the air as he did his best attempts at inhaling and exhaling to keep calm. The usual tremor of his hands got worse, making him barely able to hold the paper straight anymore.
The students’ voices grew, their laughter and excitement echoing in Regulus’ ears and hurting them. Everything was too much. His eyes stung with unshed tears, warning they would soon become too difficult to hold back.
Regulus stood, crumpling the letter in his fist and sticking it down in his pocket. He felt Barty’s hand lie on his forearm, then rattled it off in a moment. He didn’t speak— he didn’t even look back at him. His main focus remained getting out of the Great Hall as soon as possible, away from all the eyes that could see him break.
He approached the doors with fast steps, detecting a few more heads turning to watch him leave. Regulus had always been a shy kid. The unwanted audience alarmed him even more, his head hanging low as he finally slipped out of the hall and onto the corridor.
The Slytherin dormitories were situated in the dungeons, next to the kitchen. The Great Hall was located on the next floor, right above it. Regulus sniffled as he continued his jog, nearing the stairs when a bead of a teardrop finally gave itself away and slid down his cheek. A quiet, choked sob then followed suit. He rushed over the stone steps, raising a hand to wipe his face as he did. Moonlight peeked through the big windows, illuminating Regulus’ path. He passed by the kitchen, the hustle of the house-elves behind the closed doors discernible from the outside.
Regulus couldn’t maintain one trail of thought. They all, however, came back to his mother, Walburga Black. Bits and pieces of memories from his childhood slipped into mind as he continued to walk, proceeding down into the eerie and dimly lit dungeons of Hogwarts. The way she’d kissed his temple lovingly and tucked the blanket around his dainty figure while he'd laid in bed, or how she’d adjusted his clothing and fixed his hair before going out for lunch. Even her smile had once been an occasional sight. Regulus frowned deeper at that thought, another quick sniffle resonating through the hallway.
He found he couldn’t quite remember how a smile sat on his mother’s face. Every image that came into mind was uncanny— distorted, and uncomfortable, and wrong. Any sign that she’d ever been someone with human emotions felt surreal and fake. That part of her had left long ago; a little bit after Sirius’ first year, when his impertinence and disapproval of their family’s morals first appeared. And, with each passing day, that old Walburga got further and further away, leaving a shell of a woman behind. With her hollow, dull eyes, and her worn, pale skin, she was devoid of any life. And, perhaps, Regulus inherited that trait from her.
The boy felt his own body start to betray him. The amount of energy it took to keep himself composed tired him down, making it much harder to continue as he was. The barrier he’d built to protect himself began to fall into disrepair, weakening with each sob he allowed himself to slip, representing a new crack.
He stopped at the end of the hallway, in front of a blank stone wall. He quickly dried himself off, preparing to face any students that decided to stay in for the night. He cleared his throat, yet his voice still came out as a whisper as he muttered the password. Though that seemed to please the charm enough to let him through. He walked inside the Slytherin common room, nodding in acknowledgement at a few of his 7th year housemates studying around the fireplace. They didn’t even seem to pay attention to him, too absorbed in their lecture.
He went around them to his dorm, which he shared with Barty and Evan Rosier, another friend of his. Once the door closed, a burden finally released itself off of Regulus’ shoulders. He climbed up in his bed, kicking the shoes off of his feet and pulling the curtains around himself to hide from anyone’s view. Curling up into the blankets, just like he did when he was little, he stared up at the dark ceiling. A tear fell down from the corner of his eye and trailed down, staining his pillow.
Regulus turned on his side, whimpering at the movement. His muscles hurt from exhaustion. He let another teardrop fall, opening his mouth to gasp for air as he began crying silently. A hand covered his face for a few moments, then went upwards, in his hair, to push his black curls away. He let out a pained sigh, closing his eyes at an attempt to fall asleep. Streams went on falling down his cheek, sniffles and soft whines breaking through the silence of the room.