Chapter Text
It’s only lunchtime, but Regulus contemplates committing murder for the fourth time that day.
“I’m going to miss croissants. And chocolate eclairs. Everything from Boulangerie Alexine , really.”
Evan is whining or being sentimental, or both all day and they’ve yet to leave home.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Evan. If you didn’t pass your OWLs, you’ll be back here in no time.”
“Rude. At least Alphard would be happy. I’m his favourite.”
“Sirius is his favourite.”
“You’ve got a point. But , of the two of us, I’m his favourite.”
“ Boys, ” Alphard cuts their squabble, entering the room. “My favourite is Paul from three floors down. And I like him much better when you’re both not around,” he adds amused.
Evan laughs at this, but Regulus schools his face to show how unimpressed he is. Are statements like this a typical occurrence? Yes. Does he enjoy hearing about Alphard’s sexual endeavours? Not particularly. It’s his uncle for fuck’s sake and the only semi parental figure in his life. So, no, it will probably never not be a little weird to hear. Similarly, Alphard loves to probe about their interests and Evan always sells Regulus out. Regulus would like to say that he returns the favour, but Evan also shares everything about himself, so Regulus ends up with no cards to play.
“Well, you have to torture yourself with our company for thirty minutes and then you’re free for a couple of months,” Regulus says dryly.
“So, you do think I passed my OWLs, Reg!” Evan exclaims triumphantly.
“Unfortunately, you’re a great source of gossip, so I’d rather you pass.”
“And,” Evan raises one finger, “someone has to make sure you don’t forget the absolute basis of interactions with other people.”
Regulus huffs offended. “ Excuse you , I’m very capable of that.”
Evan raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Yeah, sure. Remember that time when a girl started talking to you and you asked her why she’s speaking to you? Not a prime, fucking performance if you asked me.”
“Well, did I ask?” Regulus says monotonously, thinking it was a very valid question. Why would someone just come up to him and start talking? It’s stupid. Most people are.
“See, that’s why I’m crucial in your life,” Evan responds, satisfied like he won some kind of argument.
Honestly, Regulus thinks this is one of the most idiotic reasons why he would need Evan in his life. But he won’t list the better ones. They know of them. They share their most life-changing experiences for almost six years, so they understand each other better than anyone. There’s no reason to bring up their trauma and upsetting Alphard in the process, so, socialising it is.
“You’ll give me a headache if you won’t stop talking. I’m going for a smoke,” it’s all Regulus says before standing up from the table and moving to the balcony.
He fishes out a cigarette and leans against the railing. The summer has ended, so it’s no surprise that the streets of Saint-Germain-des-Prés seem busier than a few days ago. Regulus likes standing there and just watching what’s happening below.
He didn’t expect to like it here. Really, he thought about small towns or countrysides and how he enjoyed staying in Black Manor when he was younger, far away from people.
Loving Paris took him by surprise.
He was ready to hate the constant rush, pools of people swimming down the street at all times, the loud atmosphere, he was prepared to feel overwhelmed with it all. Cars, bikers, cyclists, children, cats and dogs. Laughs carried through the street from drunk people on the weekends, music from pubs reaching his ears from time to time, living in the same building as at least a hundred people. It all seemed way too much.
So when he and Evan moved to Alphard’s apartment, he wanted to get familiar with the surrounding area without actually leaving his safe space. He went to the balcony, stood in the exact same spot as now and watched everything around him for hours. And the next evening. And a few next ones. And he felt invisible. People were passing so close, yet still so far, no one paid any attention. If someone looked up and caught sight of him for half a second, he was sure that he was dismissed from their mind half a second later. It was freeing.
When he actually went out in the street, nothing really changed. There was always something happening, cars honking, parents rushing to get their kids to school, some tourists talking vividly. All that made them fit in unnoticed. It was casual. Standard. Like Evan and Regulus always belonged to that picture, and surrounded by muggles nonetheless. Living in Paris turned out to be as natural as breathing.
He wonders if that’s how it would be in London. Grimmauld Place was in a muggle neighbourhood as well. But Regulus never, not once , had a chance to get out of the house to the streets of Islington. To the age of ten, he was only in wizarding areas, without having a single interaction with a muggle.
Six years later, he interacts with muggles on a daily basis when he’s back from school.
He remembers being younger and disgusted by the mere thought of speaking with a muggle, let alone touching one. They are a disease , his mother used to say. You’re above the filth. Now, Pedro from their favourite Italian restaurant nearby remembers to add extra guanciale when he orders carbonara and Madame Calvet from their usual bakery likes when they come (well, mostly Evan) so much that she always gives them some extras for free.
It’s their last day in Paris and Regulus isn’t actually sure when they’ll come next time. It may be two months, it may be four.
Turns out Regulus is a hypocrite. He was contemplating banging his head against the wall earlier when Evan got so very much sentimental and look at him now. It’s definitely time to move on to more exciting parts of the day.
Meaning their soon to be made departure.
Without further ado, Regulus makes his way back inside to check his room one last time and confirms that everything is packed safely in his trunk. Well, trunks. Regulus and Evan have a total of three combined and all have a heavy extension charm, but hey, it’s not their fault that Alphard expresses his care for them in the form of galleons and euros.
“I feel like half of the apartment is gone,” Alphard observes with an amused smile.
“I bet Evan stole half of your wine stock,” Regulus says as if he didn’t take five bottles himself.
“Why do you think I didn’t resupply it lately?”
Evan snorts. “Good, you know what to expect. I wouldn’t check it before we’re gone though,” he adds with an innocent grin.
“It’s not like you both have money and fake IDs.”
“What we don’t have is over twenty years of experience in tasting wine.”
Alphard stops for a second and nods his head slowly. “Mmm, can’t argue with that, Evan. My taste is impeccable.”
“And you taught us well,” Regulus says, his lip twitching as he remembers the time when Alphard caught them drunk on some downright awful wine when they were fourteen and proceeded to completely ignore the fact that they were wasted in favour of berating their beverage choice.
He did everything he could think of to worsen their hangover though, but began to occasionally give them half a serving of well paired wine with the dinner.
Alphard laughs, probably remembering his ‘lessons’ as well. “Someone had to!”
Regulus' smile falls. He responds as casually as possible. “Well, we’ll be both seventeen in a few months, so you’ll be able to free yourself of us.”
The short but heavy silence that follows shows that he didn’t really succeed in masking his feelings.
“Regulus,” Alphard apparently spotted a poorly hidden insecurity in his words.
“You and Evan are my boys. We’re the Levesques. You’re still Regulus Black and Evan Rosier, and I’m still Alphard Black, but we are also Levesques. And this is our home, you’re both always welcome here.”
“I’ve already set up vaults on your names that you’ll get access to when you’re seventeen. But you don’t have to move out. I know that I’m not a parent material, but more of a fun, rich uncle kind of person, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want you here. I enjoy living with you and you can both stay as long as you like. It’s our home.”
Evan smiles and his eyes are full of adoration for Alphard. The man that was Regulus’ uncle, but also became Evan’s uncle and took them both in without hesitation. Regulus sometimes still doesn’t believe how lucky he and Evan are for having Alphard in their lives.
You see, Regulus and Evan were on the path to live their standard, boring lives of Sacred Twenty Eight children, until they weren’t.
Regulus and Evan were kidnapped when they were ten.
They were presumed dead three months after their disappearance.
They managed to escape over two years later at the age of thirteen.
As they were in France, they reached out to the only family member they knew of that lived there permanently. Alphard took them in, literally from the street and listened as they told him about everything that happened.
Regulus just wanted to see his brother. He missed him more than anything in the world and couldn’t wait to go home with him. Except, that didn’t happen.
The Blacks and the Rosiers disowned them the minute they heard that they lived practically as muggles this whole time, didn’t learn magic and didn’t even have wands.
Ironically, even after disownment, they didn’t want to give their custody to Alphard. In the end they agreed on the condition that they would renounce their family names.
So they became Regulus, Evan and Alphard Levesque. Why this specific surname? Absolutely no reason at all. Alphard just decided that since he plans to remain in France and is half French, he may as well choose something French. He thought about at least thirty different ones until he decided that Levesque sounds the best with their names. So, that was all.
Now, Regulus and Evan are sixteen and waiting for the portkey to take them to Beauxbatons.
They exchange their final goodbyes and after a few seconds, the familiar pull takes them to the Pyrénées mountains. They greet awaiting house elves that take their trunks and Regulus takes a moment to take in the view in front of him.
“Do you think it’s the last time we see the Palace of Beauxbatons?” Evan asks, looking around.
The chateau in front of them is truly one of a kind. It’s the most beautiful place Regulus has ever seen. It’s huge, but it’s not really a surprise knowing that about two thousand people live there. It’s very elegant but also delicate somehow and very, very clean. Regulus is sure that the cream colour of the walls looks exactly the same as it looked seven hundred years ago. The massive statues inside and outside would be surely welcomed in any museum. As much as Headmistress Maxime takes pride in the palace, Regulus knows that the grounds are her true joy.
The school is literally in the middle of the mountains which translates to in the middle of nowhere and Regulus isn’t sure how far the closest civilization is. Beauxbatons is the only thing within dozens of miles. So the castle is surrounded by enormous gardens. Some very colourful, some with a variety of fruits and vegetables, some with potion ingredients. There is also a quite ridiculous number of fountains. He’s not sure why to be honest. There is only one truly relevant fountain in the main park.
La fontaine de Flamels was founded by Beauxbatons famous alumni, Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel and with some help of their philosopher stone, it has mild healing and beautifying properties. Regulus knows for a fact that the school potions are made with a water from this fountain instead of regular water and that some students religiously bottle up the fountain water to wash their hair and face with it.
Regulus and Evan agreed that no amount of torture would make them admit that they use it too. They used to laugh way too much at other people for collecting the fountain water until they tried it too to endanger themselves with the unavoidable backlash. As they always go there at night, it blissfully remains as their secret.
They move towards their light blue carriages pulled by abraxans and Regulus thinks back to Evan’s question. He really hopes that it’s not the last time they’re at Beauxbatons.
“We’ll come back. I’m pretty sure that Madame Ducroix would rather die than never see you again.”
“The feeling is mutual,” Evan says with a smile. “I don’t know who will be teaching us Charms next, but there is only one Madame Ducroix.”
There are already some of their classmates in the carriage, but they pay them no mind. Regulus can’t recall even one of their names. He recognizes one girl though, but that’s only because she sneers at them every time she sees them.
When people do that it’s usually one of three reasons. Some people just don’t like them. So much that they always visibly react and it’s quite amusing when you don’t even remember any interaction with them. Or their faces for that matter. Some French think that it is almost a criminal offence that Regulus and Evan more often than not speak in English when alone. Regulus thinks that it’s either some stupid French pride or poorly expressed jealousy of being bilingual.
And last, but not least, the ‘old-blood’ purebloods. Now, this group is particularly interesting. They come from old, rich, traditional lines of wizards and witches, and benefit from their family names and connections in more ways than one. Regulus obviously doesn't have anything against privileged people. He was one of them for ten years and in some ways, still is. But their bigotry is honestly repulsive.
Once the news spread around the château that they are, in fact, the disowned members of Black and Rosier families and they took the unknown Levesque name, those purebloods readily catalogued them as blood traitors. The fact that they think of them like they committed some kind of treason combined with their arrival at school three years later than usual resulted in never ending insults. These days, the insults are usually muttered quietly and hexes no longer fly their way. But Regulus and Evan took some time to achieve that. It usually involved firing hexes themselves, some verbal humiliation or inquiring blackmail material, but in the end it worked out really well for them. Oh, and they gained quite a reputation in the process.
It will no longer be of use, but it’s still satisfying that the girl who sits with the perfect posture, wears diamond earrings that are possibly her heirlooms and has, most probably, tailored robes — thus, old-blood pureblood — doesn’t insult them, but only sneers and then looks away.
Regulus immensely and shamelessly enjoys having a scary reputation. It’s probably in the top three of his achievements in life. The rest of their ride is uneventful, Regulus is just thankful that the carriages block some of the sun that shines annoyingly bright this day. But that’s the charm of Southern France, he supposes. Entering the palace brings relief when the temperature perceptibly drops a few degrees.
They walk into the Dining Chamber and move towards the only occupied table which is filled with sixth year students. Regulus can already feel a headache forming. There’s over two hundred students in his year and some of them act like they’re on drugs all the time. What’s worse is that the other seven tables are empty, so their voices carry around twice as loud.
“And people say Paris is loud,” Regulus mumbles. “Fucking savages, the lot of them.”
Evan steals a glance at a particularly obnoxious group. “Can’t say I disagree.” His gaze travels further down the table and a small smile forms on his face. “I missed some of it, though.”
Regulus follows his line of sight and spots a few people whose company he rather enjoys on a regular day, sitting near the end of the table. He exchanges a quick look with Evan and they simultaneously start walking in their direction.
Most people don’t pay them any attention on their way, a few others greet them with Evan responding and Regulus sending an occasional nod. Of course a few sneers here and there can be spotted, but they couldn’t even bother with returning them. It’s quite pathetic, honestly.
As they come closer, one voice raises above the general noise. “Regardez qui arrive, les frères Lévesque!”
Regulus rolls his eyes automatically. The amount of people calling them brothers even though they do not even look alike, just because they share the last name is astounding. They are, in fact, as close to brothers as one can get, but they are not actual brothers. “Pas frères, mais assez proches, Olive.”
Said Olive just waves a dismissal hand. “Détails. Si tu te teignais les cheveux et les coiffais à la manière d'Evan, tu pourrais certainement passer pour le frère d'Evan.”
“Ouais, et ensuite? Changer la couleur de mes yeux? La structure de mon visage?” Regulus deadpans, feeling ridiculous with the train of the conversation.
Olive wears an amused smile. “Toujours aussi dramatique, Regulus. Faut-il que tu sois aussi grincheux dès le premier jour?”
Regulus fixes her a flat look. “Oui.”
Evan moves his hands towards him in a presenting manner. “Et ça, c'est Regulus pour toi.”
That gathers a few laughs. A boy sitting next to Olive decides it’s the time to add his share. “Salut Evan, comment as-tu réussi à passer tout l'été avec lui?”
Evan gasps dramatically putting a hand on his chest. “Nico, Reg est un plaisir à côtoyer.”
Nicolas raises his eyebrows with a slight disbelief. “Mmm, ouais, j'en suis sûr, fais-moi savoir si tu as besoin de t’échapper.”
Olive barks a loud laugh and they fall into a light chatter about what they did throughout the summer as the rest of their year mates come into the chamber. Olive and Nicolas are a part of their usual friend group.
Nicolas has a sister who was Evan and Regulus’ first and closest friend in Beauxbatons and two years their senior. Unknowingly to almost the whole school, Nathalie is a vampire who’s proud of the fact. Her father is also one, but her mother is a regular witch and brother was born a wizard. Don’t ask Regulus how it works, for all he knows, you either inherit the vampirism or you don’t without more specific rules. So, Nicolas became their friend mainly through association, when Nathalie practically demanded that he befriends them. It actually worked out. Regulus knows that Nicolas isn’t his biggest fan, probably something to do with his sister, but they get along fine.
Olive is Nicolas’ girlfriend. So, they were kind of a package deal. Olive is a half veela with a too positive attitude. For Regulus’ liking, that is. She lives her life with no worries. Whatever bad happens to her, she just doesn’t care. Or if someone bad happens to her, she just hexes them and moves on, not giving a shit. She decided that she’ll make an optimist out of both Evan and Regulus back in their first year here. The scary thing is that she partially succeeded. It’s probably hard not to be at least a bit influenced when you’re in constant exposure with miss ‘I don’t give a single fuck’. It’s probably also the fact that when they came here, anxiety was practically eating them alive, so it was due that they relaxed gradually with time.
There’s currently only one person missing and after a while Regulus sees her small frame before he hears her sharp voice.
“Quoi de neuf, les ratés?” There’s only one person who refers to the four of them solely as losers and it’s Adrienne Lavigne. Except—
“Putain qu'est-ce-que t’as fait à tes cheveux?”
—that, exactly. The last time Regulus saw her, her hair wasn’t fucking purple. Lavender, to be specific.
“Tu vois combien de blondes il y a ici? Ennuyeux à souhait. Tu aimes ça?” Adrienne tosses her hair to display it further and Regulus admits that it suits her well.
Olive certainly thinks so too when she adds, “Je te baiserais volontiers si j'étais célib’.”
Nicolas huffs affronted, but Adrienne only smiles widely, satisfied. “Ne t’inquiète pas, Nicolas. Je me baiserais en un clin d'œil,” she says with a smirk.
Regulus snorts, while Evan lets out a cough that sounds suspiciously like la pute . To have the confidence of Adrienne probably feels like winning in life. There is, however, a good reason for that. She’s really beautiful even by veela standards. Although she has only a quarter of veela blood, she could easily pass as a full species with her looks. She also loves playing a matchmaker and acts as a very active wingwoman for her friends. Which, she has a lot of as she’s well liked within the students.
Why she usually hangs out with the four of them is a mystery to Regulus. Well, not completely. There are probably two main reasons for that. Human-related wizards and witches tend to stick together in general. It’s not a rule, but there’s a solidarity in being a part of the student minority, so they kind of naturally move in the same circles. As for the second reason, Regulus doesn’t think he has ever met a part-veela that doesn’t have another part-veela friend. There’s a lot of them at Beauxbatons — at least fifty — and if you see one, another one is with them or will probably join them soon.
Okay, so Regulus shouldn’t be surprised by her company. However, he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t try to bring her down a peg.
“Your hair clashes with our uniforms,” he says, flashing her a sharp smile. In the corner of an eye he sees Olive looking up at the ceiling, probably irritated with his switch to English.
Nicolas and Adrienne both speak the language rather well, and Olive had been learning English for a few years before coming to the academy, but not enough to understand all their conversations and she always responds in French. So, they usually stick to French, but Adrienne wants to travel a lot after NEWTs and doesn’t want her English to get rusty, so they switch it up from time to time.
“T’es une salope, Levesque. It doesn’t . I specifically went to the hairdresser in a Beauxbatons shirt to match the undertones,” Adrienne responds, annoyed.
His friends laugh at Adrienne’s comment and Regulus’ lips twitch as well, because, honestly? It was a good move on her part.
“Only you, Adrienne. Madame Maxine should honour your dedication,” Evan says with a lopsided grin.
“Obviously. I’m special and everyone will miss me when I graduate.”
“Not me,” Regulus tells her. “Evan is enough of a bitch for the both of you.”
“And you could make up for all five of us, Levesque, alors dégage .”
The chatter continues for some time, while the chamber is more and more filled with students. After some time, all conversations quiet down in a second when they see Headmistress Maxine entering the Dining Chamber. All students stand up from the benches until she takes her place at the teachers table. Two other professors are with her along with a generous stack of letters. They spread the letters on the table in some sort of order and only then the Headmistress stands up again.
“Bienvenue à tous les étudiants,” she starts and they return a greeting in a chorus. “Avant de commencer officiellement votre sixième année à l'Académie de Magie de Beauxbatons, vous recevrez vos résultats OWL.”
After that, she continues to talk about a possibility to retake failed exams in September - if that was his case, Regulus would probably rather die. Firstly, out of embarrassment and secondly, he doesn’t have time to wait until October to get the new results. He aims for straight O’s, so the mere thought of not passing any class is mortifying.
Maxime’s words automatically make him anxious, which is stupid, because there’s realistically no way he’ll get anything below an EE. He made sure of that. So he forces himself to calm down.
“…vous vous présenterez pour recevoir vos résultats après l'appel de votre nom. Adabie, Monique.”
Regulus pushes down the groan threatening to escape his lips. Of fucking course it’s in an alphabetical order. The Black name would be bloody useful, but no , Levesque is probably after a hundred students. He doesn’t envy Nicolas, who literally bangs his head on the table. With the family name Verdier, he’ll most likely be the last student.
The process goes on for about thirty minutes and he’s already contemplating his life choices when Maxime’s voice catches his attention as she calls, “Levesque, Evan”.
That is what Regulus should be worried about. If Evan doesn't pass Transfiguration, Regulus will drown himself in the Flamels’ fountain. As his name is being called a minute later, he struggles not to run and snatch the letter out of his professor’s hands. Somehow, he manages, and when he’s back in his seat, Evan is waiting for him.
They nod at each other and simultaneously open the envelopes.
When he scans through his results, he doesn’t fight a wide smile that spreads across his face. He looks up to Evan already looking at him with the mirrored expression.
After a moment of silence, Evan states firmly, “We’re going to Hogwarts.”
There’s a few seconds when Regulus doesn’t quite process this sentence, but his brain catches up and he lets out a shaky exhale.
“We’re going to Hogwarts,” he repeats, still astounded.
A laugh bubbles up from his throat and he lets it out and Evan is laughing right with him, and so he repeats the words that somehow became true. “Evan, we’re going to Hogwarts.”
“We are.” They’re looking at each other with disbelief and the moment is so perfect that when Evan reaches out for the hug, Regulus goes willingly and embraces him just as strongly, feeling slightly overwhelmed with emotions.
They stay in the embrace for a while, but Regulus still repeats that sentence in his head. They’re going to Hogwarts.
They’re going to Hogwarts.
It’s so wonderful, Regulus feels that he could cry. He won’t, of course, but he definitely could. It’s quite literally their biggest dream coming true.
For ten years, they listened to all kinds of stories about Hogwarts, about the teachers, subjects, castle, grounds, Slytherin house and couldn’t wait to go there. When it was drastically ripped from them, they thought they'd never get the chance to actually go there.
Regulus wonders if that’s how it would feel to get a Hogwarts letter at the age of eleven. His smile turns bittersweet for a second. They never even received letters of admission.
It no longer matters. He looks at Evan and suspects that his thoughts trail in a similar direction. They should be there for five years already. They were robbed from it, but in the end they managed. They fought tooth and nail to get where they are now, and it paid off.
They started to learn magic when they were thirteen, they started to study two years worth of spells on their own within six months, they went to Beauxbatons as third years, behind the curriculum in half the classes and they finished fifth year in top twenty percent of students. Regulus in top five or better.
And tomorrow, they’re going to Hogwarts.
To Sirius.
Regulus doesn’t want to think about his brother now. He’s being embarrassingly emotional at the moment without it, thank you very much.
They had an unbelievable support from Alphard, but this? The success? It's almost all theirs . They went to hell and back, and came out on top.
Regulus sits through the congratulations and whining from their friends about them leaving still in a haze. And when they start talking about celebrating their last night at Beauxbatons, Regulus is on board for a party as never before.
____________________
Waking up after getting two hours of sleep was… an experience. It felt like Regulus just closed his eyes for one second and the next second he was awake with less than an hour to get to the apparition point.
He felt how tired he was before even standing up and wished he could just lay there for the rest of the day. Until after some time, the full extent of his current situation sunk in and he started to stand up momentarily, nearly tripping in the process.
“Evan,” he murmured. “Evan, wake the fuck up!”
“Reg?” came a muffled response and he turned to see Evan’s sleepy face.
“We’re so fucking screwed, Evan, it’s not even funny. Get up and get dressed, we’re leaving in like, thirty minutes,” he continued, searching frantically for his shower cosmetics and fresh clothes.
“Please, tell me you’re joking.”
“I wish I was,” he mutters, walking into the bathroom. “You’d better look alive when I’m out.”
He carefully avoids looking in the mirror while he steps into the shower to spare himself from seeing the pathetic state he’s surely in. Merlin, he wasn’t supposed to get absolutely sloshed at the party. He hates mornings on a regular basis, without throwing a hungover to the mix. He has to really fight himself to wash as quickly as possible and not relax under the soothing stream of water.
With a towel hanging on his hips, he comes back to the dorm fifteen minutes later and looks at Evan, standing there with a tight jaw and clothes in one hand.
“I feel sick,” Evan says weakly.
“And you look like shit.”
“Thanks Reg, you really know how to lift someone’s spirit.”
“Not my job.” Regulus walks back to the bathroom and this time looks at the mirror.
It’s not that bad. He looks quite normally, the only differences are a hickey on his neck and his eyes that are glossy and a bit bloodshot. Otherwise, his appearance doesn’t show how tired he is.
His eyebrows fly up when Evan walks in and starts taking off his pyjama bottoms.
“Can’t you just wait five minutes?” Regulus asks, disbelievingly.
“Regulus,” Evan turns towards him, his voice serious. “Be in the bathroom, don’t be, I don’t care. But if I’m not getting in the shower right now, we won’t make it on time.”
“Whatever,” Regulus grumbles, rolling his eyes and proceeds to spell his hair dry, wash his teeth and glamour his neck.
Once he makes sure they didn’t leave anything in the dorm, they exit the room and start walking through the palace.
The memories from three years spent at Beauxbatons stay at the back of Regulus’ head, but excitement for Hogwarts outshines them by miles.
Evan heaves a loud sigh when they mount their brooms. “I’m not flying for a week after this.”
“You can walk there if you want.”
“I’d probably faint at some point if I had to walk now for an hour and a half.”
Regulus snorts, not really disagreeing, as they pick up a steady pace in the air.
The fatigue may be slowing him down, but he’s still Regulus Levesque, so he can’t really stop a sly smile and his next words. “Race you there?”
With that he speeds up, not waiting for Evan's response, but he hears a loud groan and some cursing. Fresh, mountain air hits him like a blessing and his body relaxes during the flight.
When they arrive at the apparition point, Alphard is already waiting for them, letting out a relieved breath once they land with smiles on their faces.
“Thank Salazar, I was afraid you’d be hungover and look like corpses.”
Regulus and Evan share a quick look which doesn’t go unnoticed by Alphard.
Regulus is not stupid. Somewhere in his mind there is a reminder that the hungover didn’t have a chance to hit him yet, because he stopped drinking three hours ago. He’s not drunk though. Besides feeling a bit fuzzy, he’s feeling fantastic. Much better than on any other day at this early hour, so he counts that as a win.
He doesn’t dwell on it though, because Evan, being a bitch that he is, redirects conversation by throwing Regulus under the bus.
“Reg was too busy with Gabriel to get drunk.”
He throws Evan a dark look, because fucking typical. He didn’t even know he told Evan about it, but apparently he did.
“Good for you,” Alphard nods his head, unbothered by the assumption. “Ready to go? We’re already late, so Sirius is probably losing his mind.”
Regulus grimaces, because he absolutely hates being late. But he nods his head and grabs Alphard’s waiting arm with Evan and seconds later he’s being pulled to Scotland.
____________________
It should be noted that Regulus would like to retract his statement about not being stupid.
Apparition is a curious thing. It can take you hundreds of miles away in the matter of seconds. The only effect you have to suffer through is a feeling of being squeezed into a really tiny space and of being pulled harshly like you have a rope hooked somewhere in your stomach.
First time apparating often results in losing your balance and feeling disoriented, younger kids tend to throw up, so they usually travel by the floo if possible.
This is not the first time Regulus and Evan participate in side apparition, nor they are little. They still have, however, a questionable amount of alcohol in their bodies that hits them like a brick in a matter of eight travelling seconds.
So Regulus doesn’t even register that they landed before his knees give out and he finds himself on all fours on the ground. Barely a second later he hears Evan violently throwing up somewhere to his left and he has to hold one hand against his mouth to avoid following his suit, feeling as well the contents of his stomach rising high in his throat.
“Reggie! Evan!” Regulus registers Sirius’ scream and a few seconds later he feels a warm touch on his back. “What the hell happened?!”
Regulus tilts his head to look at Sirius and, oh , he looks scared. Regulus might’ve felt guilty in different circumstances, except he uses all his will power to focus on Sirius.
“Reggie, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
He would like to answer, but he can only manage a head shake at the moment, his mouth still tightly clasped.
He sits back on his heels and takes a few deep breaths. He hears a loud groan followed by a few coughs and in the corner of his eye he sees Alphard helping Evan up.
Sirius is now crouching in front of him, his face still twisted in worry. “Reggie…?”
“Fuck,” he mutters, closing his eyes for a short moment, because everything around him is spinning. “I feel like I'm in another dimension.”
“Really, boys? Really?” Alphard is looking resigned, his hand flies up to pinch his nose. “Are you drunk right now?”
Evan only groans in response, so Regulus has to take initiative. “Not drunk. Just… not completely sober either.”
Sirius looks at him like he just saw him for the first time. “What. The fuck? Are you for real?”
“I just need like— five minutes and I’ll be fine, Sirius.”
“Regulus!” comes a hiss from his brother.
“What?”
“Okay, I’ll get you some potions, just— don’t die in the meanwhile. Sirius, babysit them, will you?”
Alphard clearly doesn’t have the energy to deal with this and apparates away.
“Sirius as a babysitter must be some kind of a joke,” Regulus mutters under his breath.
“ You are a joke.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
There’s a silence for a few moments when the three of them seem to process the situation, but it’s quickly broken when Sirius suddenly starts laughing. Like, full on laugh, folding in half with tears starting to form in his eyes. They just stare at him really confused.
“What the fuck, Sirius?” Evan says in a raspy voice.
“I—It’s just so ridiculous that you both of all people just show here fucking drunk. Honestly, it’s such a me move I’m almost proud,” Sirius wheezes, suddenly delighted by the situation.
“Not drunk,” Regulus reminds him weakly.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I can’t believe I never got drunk on the train or something. It’s genius.”
Evan snorts and Regulus has to admit that he’s a bit amused too. It’s true, everyone would probably expect something like that from his brother, not them.
Thankfully, Alphard comes back with a sober up potion and a pepper up potion for each of them. Sirius and Alphard have a good fifteen minutes to catch up while Regulus and Evan wait for the effects to kick in.
Regulus casts a cleaning charm on his hands and trousers when Alphard suddenly exclaims, “You know you have twenty five minutes, right?”
At that Sirius curses loudly, hugs their uncle and takes off running.
“Come on, we have to run!”
They yell after him, but he doesn’t stop, so they throw goodbyes and go as well. When they catch up to him a bit, Regulus tries again. “Sirius, stop! We can fly there!”
Evan groans for the tenth time, but doesn’t protest and, what’s more important, Sirius comes to a halt and is immediately on board with the idea. Evan declares right away that he’ll just hop on the back with Regulus and give his broom to Sirius. Now, Regulus would like to say that he took a moment to admire the castle, but Sirius is fast and the potions aren’t working like some kind of a miracle. So, he’ll have to explore some other day. At least the sky is cloudy and the sun is nowhere to be seen, so small victories.
When they’re in front of the entrance, Sirius ushers them quickly to the nearest bathroom, so they can put on their robes and fix their appearance after their embarrassing apparition and flying.
When they make their way to the entrance to the Great Hall, the hallways are almost empty with just a few students glancing at them curiously.
“Minnie! We’re here!” Sirius yells to a stern looking woman waiting for them.
“ Sirius, ” Regulus hisses, horrified by calling a professor ‘Minnie’. Only his brother.
Professor in question looks like she wants to say something, but gets distracted looking at them. Her eyes land on Regulus and then move quickly a few times between him and his brother.
“Mister Black,” she starts, looking at Sirius and, oh , it stirs something in Regulus, hearing a teacher refer to his brother by the Black name. He never experienced that. Fuck , he’d like that too. Maybe he hates his parents, but Black was his name for thirteen years and the fact that he and his brother carry different family names leaves a sour taste on his tongue.
“And Misters Black and Rosier I presume?” she continues, now looking at him and Evan. They look at her a bit surprised. They thought that it's common knowledge that they changed their names, but apparently not.
“Levesque,” his friend answers. “Evan Levesque and Regulus Levesque.”
“Misters Levesque,” she repeats and Regulus cringes internally at her awful pronunciation.
“Black and Rosier are fine too,” he blurts suddenly, surprising himself and immediately regretting the words. Evan just nods his head, seemingly unphased like that’s what they normally say, but Regulus adds quickly “But, yes, it’s officially Levesque.”
The professor and Sirius look at him a bit funny and Regulus wants the ground to swallow him whole before he emberasses himself further.
“Good. Welcome, then, Messrs. Levesque. I’m professor Minerva McGonagall, head of the Gryffindor house and Transfiguration teacher. In a minute we will walk into the Great Hall. Headmaster Dumbledore will say a few words about your transfer and you’ll get sorted. When I’ll call your name, you’ll sit on a stool and wait for the verdict of a Sorting Hat that will be put on your head. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Madame,” they respond together, already familiar with the procedure.
“Mr Black, what are you still doing here?”
Sirius blinks once, like he isn’t sure himself why he stayed, then suddenly he throws himself on Regulus. Regulus is surprised, but they didn’t see each other for over a month, so he readily sinks into the embrace. After a few seconds, he pushes his brother off of him, who goes to give Evan a quick hug as well.
Regulus won’t show it or say it out loud, but it’s nice of Sirius to try to include Evan. His brother grabs a door handle, but there’s one thing that they discussed many times, but a reminder certainly won’t hurt.
“Sirius!”
“What, Reggie?” His brother turns around and looks at him questioningly.
“If you won’t speak with us once we sort Slytherin, I’ll kill you”, he says with a sweet smile.
“Bold of you to assume I’ll speak with you either way,” Sirius snarks with no real heat in his tone. Regulus mouths connard at him and Sirius flips him off in response before disappearing behind the doors.
When he looks back at McGonagall, she has her lips pressed into a thin line, but one corner twitches a little. He looks at Evan who smooths his already impeccable robe and they share a small smile.
“We’re going in,” McGonagall says and walks into the Great Hall.
With one last breath they step inside, to reach the goal they dreamed of for years.