Chapter Text
Pandora first knew she was different at age four. She was coloring at the kitchen table when she heard her mum and dad discussing her brother, Castor.
"He seems upset," Mum commented. "I'm not quite sure what he wants."
"He wants to go to primary school," Pandora said. "With the other kids."
Both her parents turned to look at her. "Did he tell you that?" Dad asked.
"No," Pandora said simply, selecting a yellow crayon. "I just know."
Regulus first knew he was different when he was five. His cousins were over, and the four youngest kids were all fed up with Bellatrix. She kept going on about Hogwarts, and acting as if she was so much better and older than the rest of them.
Sirius and Andromeda had gotten sick of it, and decided to play a trick on her. Regulus and Narcissa had, of course, gotten roped into the scheme against their will. Regulus was flipping through a picture book of magical creatures while Narcissa brushed his hair–she wanted to braid it for him. They were both only partially paying attention to what Sirius and Andy were plotting.
"We have to come up with something really good," Andromeda said. "We need to scare her."
Sirius agreed, because he always agreed with Andromeda. "But what's Bella afraid of?"
"Mice." Everyone turned to look at Regulus.
"Mice?" Sirius repeated. "Bella's scared of mice?"
Regulus looked up at him. "Everyone knows that." The room was silent. "Right?" Both of Bellatrix's sisters shook their heads. "Oh." Regulus shrugged. "Well, she is."
For most children, normalcy isn’t something that needs to be taught. But Regulus had always made other children nervous. How could he not notice it? His parents had made him “play nicely” with their friends’ children, but Regulus preferred his brother and cousins, who simply understood that Regulus was the way Regulus was.
It didn’t take him long to pinpoint exactly what was odd about him. Once he slipped into Sirius’ room and hid under his brother’s covers during a lightning storm. One of Sirius’ attempts to soothe him was: “Everyone gets scared, sometimes, Regs.”
What Sirius didn’t understand was that that was the most obvious thing to Regulus, even at age eight. It was then that Regulus first began to consider testing the boundaries of his abilities. He even filled a sketchbook–because no one expected an eight-year-old to have anything worth journaling about–with messy, misspelled notes about his odd skill.
“Regulus Arcturus, are you paying attention?” his mother asked.
Regulus actually wasn’t because zoning out made managing the crowd much easier. As he refocused, he felt his neck prickling with the anxieties filling the train station. It was much worse than Diagon Alley, but crowds in general were always bad.
“Yes, Mother,” Regulus muttered.
“Look me in the eyes, Regulus.” Regulus generally didn’t make eye contact unless prompted, out of…etiquette, he supposed? But, whether she knew it or not, his mother was asking for it.
Regulus looked into his mother’s grey eyes, and there it was clear as glass: Regulus sorting into Gryffindor. His Mother’s current worst fear.
“I expect you will not embarrass us like your brother did, yes?” she asked.
“No, ma’am, I won’t,” Regulus promised.
The Hogwarts Express was exciting, but it was all getting to be a bit overwhelming. Perhaps the compartment at the end would be empty. Maybe she could shut the windows and rest for a bit.
“Panda, where are you going?” Pandora cringed. She didn’t hate the nickname, really, but Castor didn’t have to use it in public on her first day. She turned around towards him, and saw him smirking. He was doing it on purpose.
“I’m gonna find an empty compartment. I’m…I have a headache.”
Castor nodded, frowning slightly. “Okay, feel better.” He didn’t know the details of what Pandora could do.
No one in her family really did. Mum insisted she was a Legilimens, no matter how many times Pandora told her that it didn’t work like that. Dad had read up on several things, and concluded it was a psychological phenomena. Persephone was too young to be bothered one way or the other, and was mostly concerned with her own magic, and when she could start doing things like her brother and sister.
Castor went off to find his own friends. To go be normal, and happy like everyone else on the train. Which was great. Pandora wasn’t against that. But between her parents, the train station, and now all the students reuniting it was getting to be a lot.
She just needed a short break. All she wanted was to find an empty compartment. Apparently it wasn’t to be, though, because the compartment at the end of the corridor had a boy in it, laying on one of the benches. He looked up, and nodded at her before laying back down, throwing his forearm over his eyes to block out the light that slipped through the window shade.
Pandora figured that was the closest she’d get to an invitation to stay.
Around noon a witch came by with a sweet trolley. Pandora stood up with a huff, as did the boy.
“Can I get you anything, dears?”
“Ginger newts, please,” they said at the same time.
He handed the trolley witch a few coins, and Pandora took the chance to look at the kid, taking him in. He was a bit shorter than her, and pale, with short black hair. He was very neat and put together, apart from the back of his head where a few curls had popped out of place from lying down.
He caught her looking as he went back to his seat, and quickly looked away, not meeting her eyes. Pandora paid for her cookies, and sat down across from him. “You know, ginger’s good for headaches.”
“I know,” he said.
“I’m Pandora,” she offered, trying again at a conversation.
“Good for you,” the boy remarked, daintily eating one of his cookies.
Pandora frowned. “Do you have a name?”
He scoffed. “What are you, a fae?”
Pandora laughed, an honest laugh, which was always incredibly loud and awkward, coming from her. The boy gave a small smile though, which didn’t seem to be making fun of her, and she met his eyes for a bit. He wanted to make friends. Then he looked away.
“I’m Regulus Black, if you must know,” he said, a bit snooty too, and he honest-to-Merlin lifted his nose a bit in the air.
“Well, Regulus Black, you aren’t gonna make many friends talking like that.” Perhaps that was too upfront for strangers. Pandora’s family was used to it, but perhaps Regulus Black would be caught off guard.
“Who said I want to make friends?” he asked.
Pandora shrugged. “Just a guess.” She didn’t want to have to explain her gift. Regulus already seemed to find her odd for so much as initiating conversation.
He hesitated, and then said, “Well, you’re wrong. I already know plenty of kids at Hogwarts. I’m just not sitting with them because of my headache.”
“Are they really loud?” Pandora asked, nodding sympathetically. None of Castor’s friends would shut up when Pandora had been in their car. And it didn’t help that they were all incredibly happy to be back together.
“Something like that,” Regulus commented.
“So what house do you think you’ll be in?” Pandora asked a few seconds later, her mouth full of ginger newt.
“That’s disgusting,” Regulus commented. Pandora rolled her eyes at him. “Probably Slytherin, that’s what’s expected of me. Mother is terrified I’ll be sent to Gryffindor.”
“You mean your parents care?” Pandora asked. Then it clicked. She’d heard people talk about the Blacks before. They were very strict purebloods, and they’d all been in Slytherin, apart from one boy Castor had mentioned once.
“Obviously. I have a reputation to uphold. Don’t you?”
Pandora shook her head. “Not really. I mean, Mum was in Ravenclaw, and I think I’d like to go there, too. But my brother is in Gryffindor, and I don’t think my parents really care.”
“What house was your father in?” Regulus asked.
Pandora wondered if she ought to even tell him. She’d heard the Blacks could be dangerous. But it wasn’t exactly a secret. And Pandora was far from ashamed of her dad. “My dad’s a squib, actually. He didn’t attend Hogwarts.”
“Oh,” Regulus seemed surprised. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Pandora asked, slightly defensive.
“It’s just unfortunate. Maybe there’s a spell to get his magic back.”
Pandora frowned. “He didn’t lose it.”
Regulus nodded, and said what might be the stupidest thing he’d said so far: “Yeah, it was probably stolen.”
Pandora scowled at him. “You really believe that rubbish?” she asked.
“Yes,” Regulus muttered, crossing his arms. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
Pandora scoffed, staring him down. “No, Regulus Black, it isn’t. In fact, I’d guess that a lot of what you believe isn’t true.”
Instead of responding to what Pandora said, Regulus asked a question of his own. “Why are you scared no one will understand you?”
Pandora frowned, still recovering from the conversational whiplash he’d given her. What he’d said was…odd. It shook her to her core, to hear him say that. Something that she’d feared deeply in her chest, and hadn’t even admitted to herself. “What?”
“Sorry.” Regulus stared at the ground, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to…I just, I was curious because I kinda…also think that. Only sometimes. I don’t know. Forget it.”
“No, don’t forget it. How did you know that?” Pandora demanded.
“It’s not what you think!” Regulus insisted, holding his hands out, surrendering, and pleading. “I wasn’t…it wasn’t…I don’t do dark magic or anything it’s just…I can just do it, sometimes.”
Pandora nodded. “I believe you.” Regulus looked up, shocked, but relieved. “I do it, too.” Regulus frowned. “I can, I can see what people want–well, I don’t see it with my eyes, I just…see it. And I can sense when their happy, but sometimes it gives me-”
“A headache?” Regulus finished.
Pandora nodded. “So you saw…what I'm afraid of?" Regulus nodded. "Oh."
"I won't do it anymore, I promise!" Regulus pleaded. "It was an accident, I can't always control it."
"I know, don't worry. Besides, we'll hardly see each other around, right? Since you have so many other friends?"
Regulus blushed. "Oh, well, I guess there's not really any point lying about that, is there?” He sighed, and looking at his feet, admitted: “I kind of scare other kids."
Pandora grinned. "Well, you don't scare me. I'll be your friend. Maybe we'll be in the same house."
Regulus frowned. "I don't think you're allowed to be in Slytherin if you're a half-blood."
Pandora sighed. Clearly, Regulus Black didn't know as much as he thought he did.
The Sorting was nerve wracking, sure. There was a lot of anxiety. Regulus could understand that. However, it was getting to be really sodding annoying, and it did not help that all of the anxious first years were condensed into the same couple hundred square feet.
He didn’t pay much mind to the two students before him, still thinking about Pandora. So that was what he really wanted: to make friends. It didn’t seem like him, and yet Regulus couldn’t pinpoint what else he wanted.
There were the usual things, making his parents proud, fixing what Sirius broke. But after talking to Pandora he was beginning to realize- No, that wasn’t true. Regulus had always known this, he’d simply never confronted it. Those goals had never been about happiness; they’d been about safety.
Which was important. Regulus couldn’t very well make friends if he was dead, but-
“Black, Regulus.”
Regulus set his shoulders back, and walked up the stool, standing as tall as he could. He was sure of himself. He had to be.
The sorting wasn’t as glamorous as everyone made it out to be. Regulus was certain the back leg of the stool would break at any moment, and the hat covered his eyes.
Hmm, what have we here? a voice asked. Regulus bit his lip, not letting himself be startled. You’re a very brave young boy, aren’t you?
No, Regulus thought. Not really. Regulus knew a lot about fear, but that didn’t make him brave by any means.
I beg to differ, said the voice. It was reading his mind. Regulus tried not to think of anything that would lead to any house but Slytherin. It had been a nice thought to entertain, but he knew he’d have to live up to expectations. There certainly is some cunning in here, and a Black at that…you could certainly be an asset to Slytherin. I think the only question left is: would it be an asset to you?
Of course it is, Regulus thought, hoping the hat would hear his self assured tone, and let that be that.
Hm. But would you grow in Slytherin? Or would you simply…be? Before Regulus could figure out what that was supposed to mean, the voice continued in a different vein: Oh! And what’s this? In his mind’s eye, Regulus imagined the hat spotting a thought that he’d tried to tuck away in a corner. Friendship? Is that what you truly desire, Regulus Black?
I have…plenty of friends in Slytherin already. Regulus’ guard had already been let down, though.
Do you now? It knew. The hat knew that Regulus didn’t have any friends. Regulus felt…defeated. Don’t give up so easily now, there is a place for you. A place where you will find true friends.
At that, Regulus knew exactly where he was headed. And he didn’t think he could do anything to stop it, because he wasn’t as opposed to the idea as he thought he’d be.
“HUFFLEPUFF!” the hat announced to the hall.
Applause from the Hufflepuff table. That was nice of them.
“Emerson, Pandora.”
Pandora walked up to the stool, and put on the hat.
Let me see…patient, dedicated, I see. Not a bad mind, though, not bad at all. And you rather like to know things, don’t you, Miss Emerson? It makes life so much simpler, doesn’t it? I don’t suppose you’d be opposed to Ravenclaw…
Ordinarily, Pandora wouldn’t be. But the conversation on the train was coming to mind.
Oh, is that it? You fear they won’t understand you in Ravenclaw? Well, if you feel so strongly about it, then perhaps…“HUFFLEPUFF!”
Regulus knocked on the office door next to the overly-convoluted entrance to the Hufflepuff common room.
“Come in!” called a cheerful voice.
Regulus opened the door. The office was full of bookshelves, but they had either been repurposed, or the books were behind all the plants. Sprout was sitting at a desk, looking over some sort of paperwork, and there was a kettle next to her, boiling away without a visible heat source. She looked up at him, smiling. “Hello Regulus!” Regulus was not sure if it was a good sign that she knew his name already. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, Professor, there’s an issue with my sorting,” Regulus began, sounding as confident as he could, but not quite meeting her eyes.
Sprout simply nodded. “Please, have a seat, and tell me all about it.”
Regulus sat down on a high stool, with a fluffy yellow cushion on it. “It’s quite simple, really. My whole family, save my brother, have been in Slytherin for generations. And here I am, in Hufflepuff. My parents...will not be pleased.”
Professor Sprout nodded. “Would you like me to help you write them? I’ve had to deal with quite a few upset parents before.”
“What? No, I can write perfectly well on my own. I mean that I need to move houses.”
Professor Sprout nodded. “I see. That isn’t an option, dear, but if it’s just your parents you’re worried about, I’d be happy to arrange a meeting.”
Regulus shook his head. “No. No, that’ll just make everything worse. I have to be in Slytherin!”
“Why?” Professor Sprout asked. Regulus looked at her, confused. He’d just told her. Sprout gave a small smile. “Forgive me. Why do you think that your parents want you in Slytherin?”
Because Mother is terrified that the family will think her and Father failed the House of Black. But he couldn’t give that as an answer.
“Regulus, is there any point in having an ambition if you don’t work hard for it?”
Regulus narrowed his eyes. He knew what she was getting at, but it seemed like a trick question. “Well, that’s not really the point. My parents want me to be...well…” Regulus trailed off, unsure what to say.
“Regulus, I notice you talk a lot about what your parents want.” Regulus nodded. “What do you want?”
Regulus frowned. Friendship, apparently, was what he really wanted. But he wasn’t entirely sure if chasing his own desires was the best thing to do. He didn’t know how to explain any of that, though.
“I…guess I don’t know,” he said.
"I see. Well, I’m sorry, but I can't do anything about your house, apart from welcome you to Hufflepuff. So, why don't you get some sleep? Maybe things will look better in the morning."
Regulus frowned, and gave a reluctant nod.
"Is there anything else, dear?" Professor Sprout asked.
Regulus shook his head. Because what else could he even say? "I'm fine, thank you."
For some inane reason, Professor Sprout asked them to find a partner. On the first day of class. Regulus would rather die, actually, than do group work. Especially with the Hufflepuffs, who all seemed to think him odd.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder. "Regulus! Wanna be my partner?" Emerson.
"I suppose," Regulus said.
"Brilliant!" She handed him a trowel, which Regulus accepted, not quite sure what he was supposed to do with it. "I love Herbology, my dad taught me all about it. He has this greenhouse, and-"
"Isn't your dad a squib?" Regulus asked.
Pandora huffed. “Squibs can still practice herbology, Regulus. I mean, they can’t handle all plants, because some are too dangerous to approach without having magic as a back-up plan. But those wouldn’t be the type of thing he could keep in our backyard anyways.”
"Oh." Pandora rolled her eyes, and began digging into the soil in the bed in front of them, to get out one of the plants.
Regulus mimicked her, holding the trowel delicately between his fingers. Pandora stopped, and looked at him. "What?" Regulus asked.
She sighed, and grabbed his hand, repositioning it around the trowel. "Hold it firmly. And put some force behind it."
Regulus frowned, looking at the hold he now had on it. "Oh." It did look more like how Professor Sprout had demonstrated. "Why didn't she explain that?" he asked.
Pandora looked completely befuddled. "Regulus, you are the only person who needed to learn how to hold a trowel."
Regulus looked around at his classmates, who were all minding their own plants, and successfully digging them out. “Oh.”
“How was your first term, Pandora?” Mum asked, as they turned out of the King’s Cross car park.”
“It was good,” she answered. “The classes are interesting enough.”
“Did you make new friends?” Dad asked.
“Yes.”
“A friend,” Castor commented. “You only ever hang out with that one weird kid.”
“Be nice, Castor,” Mum scolded.
“What, he’s weird!”
“He’s as normal as I am,” Pandora muttered.
“And isn’t he a Black?” Castor asked. Pandora didn’t miss the look her parents exchanged with each other.
“Yes, and? What of it?” she challenged.
Castor shrugged. “Just saying. His brother’s an absolute tool.”
“So?”
“So he’s probably a tool,” Castor said simply.
“By that logic, I’m probably a tool,” Pandora commented. “And Persie, right Persie?”
Persephone laughed, but it seemed to take Castor a moment. “Hey!”
“Be nice, you three,” Dad chastised, somewhat half-heartedly.
"A Hufflepuff?" Mother demanded, the second they were within the…for lack of a better word, ‘safety’ of Grimmauld Place.
Regulus nodded, his eyes on the floor.
"Look at me when I'm speaking to you!" She ordered.
Regulus looked up, meeting his Mother's eyes. Walburga Black was terrified. She was scared of what her father-in-law, and her brother, and everyone would have to say about her sons over the holidays.
"A Hufflepuff! We thought Gryffindor was bad, but Hufflepuff? You're practically a squib, Regulus!"
Regulus cringed at that, he could practically hear Pandora seething, and she was miles away in Ireland. Regulus had learned a good bit about squibs, and no, he was not "practically" a squib.
According to Pandora, people have magic or they don't, there's no "practically" about it. Regulus was still trying to wrap his head around where muggleborns and half-bloods fit into that, though.
Regulus wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say. “I’m sorry, Mother. I tried to ask if I could change it, but…”
“Of course you can’t change it, you foolish boy!” Walburga sighed. “Just…go upstairs and unpack. We’ll discuss this later with your father.”
Regulus nodded, and brought his trunk upstairs. He didn’t really want to unpack. It was only Christmas break, and all his nice robes were in his closet still. He sighed, and laid down on his bed, staring at his ceiling.
Two knocks on the door. A pause. Two knocks.
“Come in.”
Sirius opened the door, shut it behind him, and sat down on the edge of Regulus’ bed. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Not your fault.”
“It gets better, I think. I hope.”
“Nah. I don’t have a younger brother to be a bigger disappointment.”
Sirius laughed slightly. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be my turn tomorrow. You don’t deserve any of it, Regs.”
Regulus attempted a shrug from where he was lying down. “She’s scared, that’s all. Of what the rest of the family will think of her and Father.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”
Regulus didn’t bother explaining.
The second semester whirled by, and soon enough, the weather turned warm again.
“Don’t forget to give me your address,” Pandora said, as they walked to the train. “And your- Oh, you probably don’t have a telephone, right?”
Regulus frowned. “A what?”
“Telephone. It’s like…you can talk to people who are far away, through…wires, I guess? I mean, I don’t really know how it works. You should just give me your address.”
Regulus frowned. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“What?”
“I just…I don’t think it’s a good idea to write to each other.”