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Regulus knows something is wrong the moment he steps onto the station.
It's warm for a London winter but his nose still stings and he knows it's an embarrassing shade of pink. He's bundled up in his robes, shivering and looking for Kreacher, when he catches her eye.
His mother never picks him up from the station. Never, not since she dropped him off for the first and last time in year one. But she's waiting for him, mouth set in a thin line and looking even more displeased than she always does. Regulus sets his shoulders and approaches her with faked confidence, but doesn't dare look her in the eye. Walburga grabs his arm, her thin fingers digging into his skin, and apparates.
Regulus doesn't even get a chance to orientate himself before he's being slapped in the face. His head snaps back and he stumbles down onto the floor, but the pain comes a second later. It stings all over and then aches at his cheekbone and he feels something drip down his skin.
"You insolent child," She spits, taking her wand out and pointing it at his chin. "Look at me when I speak."
Regulus does. She towers over him and he feels impossibly small, hunched over on the floor, like a pest she's come to exterminate.
"I have told you, time and time again, to stop embarrassing your family," Her wand jabs under his chin when his eyes wander away from her face "Does our name and lineage mean nothing to you?"
So this is about Sirius.
"Mother, I have no–"
"When did I say you could speak?" She pushes the tip of her wand into the soft skin under his chin and he swallows, ignoring the pain and the tremors in his fingers "The rumour has reached me, Regulus. That means everyone has heard the news of your betrayal to the family, no matter the truth of that tale. I've taught you to be better than that. To be careful. To be loyal. You've proved yourself to be a disappointment again."
He can feel the energy thrumming in her wand as she speaks. It's there, waiting to be unleashed and all he can do is cower in fear on the floor like a child.
"I don't think you understand the significance of your missteps, Regulus." There's a spark of pure joy in her cold, grey eyes "I'll have to teach you."
He stumbles into his room with a sob stuck in his throat. He hurts, he hurts and aches all over but he waits until the door is closed and the silencing charm finally works after three shaky attempts. Only then does he sink to the floor and let himself cry.
It's humiliating. He's sixteen, for Merlin's sake, he's not supposed to be sobbing in his room like a baby. All that over a few curses he's experienced a hundred times over. It doesn't even hurt that bad, on the scale of punishments his mother can serve out. It's not that bad, he repeats to himself, over and over, as he fights to get himself up from the floor on weak, shaking arms. It's not that bad. There's blood on his sheets now, but it always could have been worse.
As he lays there, aching and exhausted, he thinks about Dorcas. Pandora, too. He misses his friends, even Barty and Evan. He thinks that maybe they're why the punishment felt this bad. Because he'd been laughing and bickering with Dorcas in their compartment just minutes before they pulled into the station. Pandora had given him her Chocolate Frog card of Ravena Ravenclaw, because that's who she always gets and she has a few dozen stashed away in her trunk already. It's still in his pocket somewhere. He wonders if the girls saw him disappear with his mother. If they knew. He can always see the concern in Pandora's eyes when he has to go home. It's always the same expression, her eyebrows scrunched and her lips twisted in the smallest frown and he hates it. He hates that she gets so sad over him. He hates that he's the reason Pandora's sad and he hates that he's being pitied.
Regulus distracts himself by imagining what his friends are doing. He thinks Dorcas is still travelling in something she called a "car", although he's not sure how much time has passed or how long she said she would take. Maybe she's home, then. He remembers Dorcas saying she wanted to get her walls repainted during winter break, from a pink she called "girly and obnoxious" to a soft, mossy green. Not quite the emerald Slytherin shade, but something warmer. He thinks it suits her. Everything suits Dorcas, of course, she's just that kind of beauty. Every colour she wears compliments her deep brown skin and whatever charms she puts in her locs or braids always make her look like a fairy. Especially when Pandora and Regulus charm them to sparkle and move just because it makes Dorcas smile. She loves muggle movies, too, but they haven't found a way to let Regulus watch them yet. She was going on about missing some scary movie that played in the theatres during Autumn, something about a Carrie. He hopes she got it on tape (Dorcas spent too much time explaining how that thing works for Regulus to ever forget).
Pandora on the other hand is definitely reading. She shares her love for books with Regulus, although Barty and Evan wouldn't willingly touch a book with a stick. They even refuse to read their actual textbooks, instead relying on their notes and how much they remember from class, which is insane in Regulus' opinion.
Pandora promised to finally read "Frankenstein", although Regulus personally prefers the second part of the title. It's proof that Wizards and Muggles are more alike than his mother wants him to think. Or that Mary Shelley was secretly a witch. But yes, Regulus prefers "The Modern Prometheus". It's more poetic that way. He's not sure if Pandora would actually like the book, but it is his favourite. He likes Franz Kafka as well, but all of his books are at Hogwarts. He could never get away with bringing them home.
He hopes Pandora is already reading, although she could just as well be chasing Nargles away. He thinks of her long, white hair and the way it falls on her shoulders, how it feels against his cheek. His fingers move of their own accord, muscle memory braiding the nonexistent hair that has fallen into his lap.
Barty and Evan stayed at Hogwarts. They're probably in their dorm right now, laying on Regulus' bed just because he's not there to scowl at them. Barty's bored, so he taunts Evan until he either agrees to go do something stupid or starts a fight that they'll resolve fifteen minutes later by making out. Hopefully not on Regulus' bed.
He still can't sleep and everything still hurts. But it's a little bit better.
Truth be told, Regulus doesn't get a single second of sleep that night. He's up the whole time, tossing and turning until he gives up and simply stares out of the window. It's overcast and he couldn't see his own star or his brother's even if it wasn't. His window looks out the other way. A mixture of longing, jealousy and rage settles in his gut at the thought of Sirius. He wants to be with him, away from this wretched house and somewhere safe, and he wishes Sirius had just stayed, that he hadn't left him all alone. But he knows Mother will never hurt him again and that relief is nearly enough for him to forgive his brother. Nearly.
He gets up and decides to write to his friends as the sun rises. He still has an hour or so before Mother expects him for breakfast, an incredibly quiet and depressing affair. He writes to Barty and Evan first, asking them about their break and omitting any mention of his mother or what happened yesterday. It would just make them all concerned and annoying and it would remind Barty of his own father. There's no reason to make him sad for some pity and sympathy. His next letter is to Pandora, which consists mostly of questions that will make her ramble on and on about creatures and things only she can see. It's still interesting and distracting, even if he doesn't think it exists. Dorcas is last, because it's the one letter he can't let his mother find. He writes it quickly and sloppily and sends it as soon as he's finished, giving his owl, which he usually forgets exists, a snack for having to go to three different places.
The bottle of ink is still open and there's still enough parchment left for another letter. He isn't thinking as he starts, lost in his thoughts and the questions he asked Dorcas, all about Carrie and the other movies she would like to tell him about. He only realises he wrote something when his brain catches up to his hand. A neat, cursive "Dear Sirius," sits on the paper, taunting and incriminating.
Regulus crumples the letter and throws it under his bed.
Most of his break passes in a monotony.
Regulus goes through his days in a trance, doing anything and everything possible to be the perfect son. He still doesn't know how any rumour of his supposed reconnection to his brother reached Mother's ears because he truly hasn't spoken to him since he ran away. Sirius doesn't even look at him these days. But Walburga either believes it or thinks the sole existence of such rumour is enough to warrant punishment. And it's still not done.
Regulus is continuously starving. He doesn't know how or why, he doesn't know what magic Mother put into his food, but his body behaves like he's eating air. He was already too skinny to begin with and after a week of his body denying the little food he consumes he can feel his ribs start sticking out. He was always prone to losing weight. He remembers Sirius telling him he was wasting away in front of him when he'd gotten sick as a child. Regulus thought he was just being mean, but this feels exactly the same. The little weight he's managed to put on thanks to Hogwarts' rich meals and feasts is gone. His hip bones bruise too easily and his wrists look like they could snap. He looks gaunt. It's revolting. And Walburga uses it to taunt him during every meal.
"Eat up, Regulus. You look ghostly," She smiles from across the table but it's cruel and all wrong. Orion sits next to them, at the head of the table, and stares into space, as absent as his presence always is. "I told Kreacher to make your favourite meal."
Either it's a bold lie or she truly doesn't know. And even if it was his favourite, the dish tastes like ash. Regulus eats it all, still desperately hoping it's all psychological torture or something similarly fucked up, but his body tells another story. He's half tempted to ask Evan to mail him some food from school, but if this is a curse that is set on him and not what he consumes, it'll ruin him a little bit. So Regulus endures, because that's what he does best. He smiles at his mother as his insides boil with rage so tangible he can taste it. No amount of grovelling is enough for his mother, he's aware. They're both in a grotesque charade, him pretending he's a good son and her pretending she doesn't want him dead.
It all comes to a stop the day before he's supposed to leave and go back to school.
Regulus managed to correspond with his friends just fine without Mother finding out. His owl was loyal even if she was left in the owlery or his room most of the time, so the letters arrived straight into his waiting hands. He burned them all after he'd read them and made sure to never leave any drafts or failed attempts sitting around. He was so very careful. It wasn't enough, of course. Nothing he does is ever enough.
He knows something's wrong when she opens the door to his room. She never goes inside, uninterested in whatever it is that he does in his free time unless it's an embarrassment to the family. It's the one thing that's kept him sane through all these years - privacy. But now she's here, a paper clutched in her smooth, cruel hands, not saying a thing and watching him sit at his desk, realisation dawning on his face.
She was waiting for him to slip up. And Regulus immediately knows what she's holding and just how stupid he is.
He should have burned his impulsive letter to Sirius immediately after he realised what he'd done. It wasn't even a real attempt at contacting him, it was just an impulse, an afterthought, but his mother doesn't know that and he's not going to convince her it was a mistake. What he did is, in her eyes, the highest betrayal to the House of Black there is. He's willingly associating with a blood traitor.
Walburga doesn't waste her time or energy on words.
Her curses are painful and strong. Regulus can feel her thrumming power reverberate in his core when she unleashes it, he can feel the pure hatred with every hit. He can't fathom what they are, not when he falls to the floor and his face cracks against the hardwood, not when his body shakes and convulses. He imagines this is what the Cruciatus curse must feel like, except she didn't cast it. This is just her. Her spells feel like hot knives as they stab into his back, again and again, and there's something warm and sticky under his body. He hurts and hurts and she's just standing there, her wand pointed, hurting her own son with a delicate flick of her wrist.
Regulus doesn't even register her stopping. The pain is ongoing, unending, and his throat is hoarse. He can't raise his head from the floor and he can't even bring a hand up to his face to protect himself, even as his instincts scream and kick at his body to move. His mother crouches down, stabs her wand into his throat and just looks. Their eyes meet, identical only in appearance, and she speaks.
"You have disappointed me, Regulus." She starts, still watching him with her head cocked like a predator. Regulus opens his mouth but all that leaves it is a whimper. He can't breathe. "You're a disappointment. A spare that has failed its only purpose." And Regulus can't breathe. He can't. There's something inside his throat and there's pressure on his neck and he can't breathe and her wand is still digging into him. She doesn't speak for what seems like an eternity, just watches him gasp for air like a fish out of water until there are tears and black spots dancing in his eyes. "I won't be merciful again."
He breathes the air into his lungs so hard he feels dizzy. He coughs and coughs, crumpled in front of his deck, the floor beneath him sticky with his own blood. She's still there, watching him with a sick fascination as he wheezes and all his limbs shake.
She waves her wand and Regulus flinches. An instinct he has long trained himself out of. Whatever wounds were on his back knit themselves back together. It's still painful, but he doesn't make a sound.
"You look awful, dear." She says with fake concern that makes Regulus want to retch. She mutters a spell under her breath. Disillusionment. So that he can go back to Hogwarts and keep up the appearances. The magic that spills over his body clings to the surface of his skin like a layer of dust. It makes his skin crawl. He wants it gone the moment she spells it onto him. It's all wrong, it's her, it's too much and he can feel it.
"You may be the spare, but you are not our last resort." His mother says to him as she stands up and dusts off her robes.
The message is clear.
Slip up again and you're dead.
Regulus is the first of his group on the train.
He waits in their compartment, body aching and knee bouncing, for what feels like forever. Her magic is still crawling all over him, like a group of tiny needles or hundreds of spiders. He hasn't looked in a mirror yet, but he's certain he looks just fine. He wants it gone.
It feels like forever before the door opens and Dorcas comes inside. She's alone and she's changed her hair. It's a different type of locs than she had before, but Regulus doesn't know anything beyond the fact that it's fluffier.
"Your hair looks pretty." He admits quietly as she settles into the seat opposite to his, by the window.
Dorcas hides her smile, which means she's blushing even if he can't see it. "Is Regulus Black being nice to me? The world must be coming to an end."
She's finally taken her thick coat off and she leans in for a hug, which they always do despite Regulus disliking physical contact. But he flinches. His head snaps back and he can't breathe, just for a second, and he can't hide it. He managed to forget about her magic, still clinging to him like a second skin, and now that he feels it again he can't think of anything else.
"Can you take off a Disillusionment spell?" He's speaking too quickly and it's not like him to do so. He's too jumpy, not at all put together and Dorcas looks at him with such concern, it's suffocating.
"Regulus, what-?"
"Please." He asks "Can you?"
She nods without a word and takes out her wand. It takes everything in him not to have a visible reaction to having it pointed at him. Dorcas tries, he can tell that she does, but it barely lets up.
"Reg, I'm sorry, you know I'm not good at charms."
She's not, of course he knows, but he needed to try. He couldn't do it, at least not on himself. And he wants it gone this second.
"Do you know anyone who is? Anyone, Dorcas, please."
Regulus doesn't think he's ever sounded so desperate in his life. He hates it, but he needs the spell gone more.
Dorcas practically runs out of their compartment, the door sliding closed behind her. Regulus is alone again, alone with only the feeling of a cold mould of his own body coating him. He scratches at his forearm, almost absentmindedly, hoping it would fade away, but it doesn't. It's still there and it's everywhere he goes and he feels like she's watching him from the inside.
The door opens again and he drops the sleeve back down. He can feel the blood well up on the scratches before it gets smeared on his shirt.
"Lupin?"
Remus Lupin. He's possibly the last person Regulus expected to see right now.
"It was him or Evans." Dorcas shrugs almost apologetically.
Regulus doesn't say he would have preferred Lily Evans to his brother's boyfriend.
"Can you take it off?" He asks, straight to the point.
Lupin looks akin to lost as he glances at Regulus and then back to Dorcas.
"Where is it?"
"On me." Regulus grits his teeth "Lupin, please. Take it off."
He can't contain a flinch this time around. He clenches his fists, shuts his eyes and waits, feeling his mother's dormant magic fight against Lupin's, the needles crawling back and forth as the boy starts taking it off. It's strong and it's stubborn, but slowly, it comes off. Regulus is so relieved he might fucking cry.
"Jesus Christ."
Regulus' head snaps back up and he's met with three horrified stares.
"Hi, Dora." He waves weakly, his sleeve riding up to reveal his wrist. It's not the one that's all scratched up, but it is bone thin, just like the rest of him. The hunger has been so far in the back of his mind he's nearly forgotten he hadn't truly eaten anything in two weeks.
"What the hell happened to you?" It's Lupin asking the question, which raises some eyebrows around the compartment.
"He's right, what the fuck Reg?" Dorcas sits back down, slouching in her seat with a horrified expression on her face "When did you get that scratch?"
He frowns, confused, until Pandora reaches out, extremely slowly, to touch his cheek.
He hadn't even noticed.
"What do you think, 'Cas?" He closes his eyes, suddenly exhausted. There's no more needles, no cold, none of his mother's magic.
"I'm going to kill her one day." Pandora says and her tone doesn't match her words at all. The threat is spoken with soft excitement.
"It's not that bad, considering." Regulus mumbles with his eyes half closed.
"Considering what?"
That she could have let him bleed out on the floor.
Regulus doesn't mean to fall asleep with his head against Pandora's shoulder, but the swaying of the train and the presence of his friends is just enough for him to fall into a peaceful sleep for the first time in weeks.
He wakes up in Hogsmeade with a glaring headache.
It's not unusual in the state he's been in, but it's still annoying.
He swats away loose strands of Pandora's hair and rubs his eyes, still coming back to himself. His fingers graze a raised line on his cheek and he traces its outline. It's not big. He hopes it's not too visible.
Dorcas and Pandora stop their whispering once they notice he's awake. They all stare at each other, none of them sure what to say.
"You slept like a rock." Dorcas says and stands up to retrieve her bag "And you snore."
Pandora giggles and Regulus rolls his eyes because he's certain he doesn't.
"Have you been eating?" Pandora asks and cocks her head.
"Have you seen him?" Dorcas butts in "Regulus, seriously, what the fuck? It's been two weeks and you look like a ghost. What the fuck did she do to you?"
'What didn't she do?' is the real question.
"It's nothing." Regulus bundles himself in his coat and ushers them towards the door "I'm just tired."
Pandora and Dorcas exchange a look but ultimately let it go. They walk to the carriages, their conversation moving to the topic of 'Carrie', the horror movie Dorcas finally saw. Regulus listens, although he doesn't contribute. His eyes are still drooping and his stomach is an empty pit, clenching over nothing. He's dizzy again but he powers through it, too proud to pass out in the middle of a large body of students.
It's Lupin that catches his eye.
Now that Regulus isn't borderline having a breakdown, he looks him over properly. He looks less sickly than he did last year. He's still wearing his ugly sweaters and his face is just as covered in scars as it was before, but he looks taller and bigger. He's sure Lupin's having similar observations, but the other way around.
A sudden feeling of panic hits him when he looks over to Sirius. He turns away as quickly as he can, Dorcas swaying in his eyes before he gets his bearings.
"You okay?" She asks, offering her hand. He's not stupid enough to decline and end up face down on the snow. He nods. It isn't convincing.
The way to the castle is painfully slow. Regulus is dragging his feet by the time they make it to the Great Hall. The smell of food turns his stomach and even as he sits down next to Pandora he feels the urge to get up and run away. He's not afraid of food, because that's just idiotic. He's not.
But the thought of tasting ash and feeling as empty as he already does is paralysing. The possibility of the curse still being in place is enough to make his already weak hands shake in his lap.
He nearly falls out of his seat when two hands grab his shoulders from behind. It's pure luck that Evan uses obnoxiously strong perfume and Regulus can avoid a full blown panic.
"You fucking idiots." Dorcas hits Barty on the arm and he cringes, rubbing the spot.
"What?!" He sits down opposite Pandora and finally properly looks at Regulus "Merlin, you look bad."
Evan, with his hands still on Regulus' shoulders, turns him towards himself to take a look. His expression immediately falls.
"Can you all stop acting like I'm dead?" Regulus mutters, but it goes largely unheard. Evan's already plotting the demise of one Walburga Black in his head and Barty's looking down at his empty plate in uncomfortable silence.
"You look halfway there." Dorcas bites out.
Evan sits down, his arm shifting to pull Regulus to him in a loose hug. He runs his palm along his back and sucks in a breath.
"Eat something." He leans in, gaze moving from the fresh scar to his hollow cheeks and his dark undereyes. "Regulus…"
"Stop." He chokes out, looking away "Don't."
The five of them sit in silence as Dumbledore finishes his usual spiel. And then it's time to eat. And Regulus looks around at all the food in front of him, he stands up and he walks out.
It's irrational. He's aware. But being self aware doesn't save him from the fact that his breath is coming in short, shallow gasps and his fingers are shaking. Regulus grips the strap of his bag tighter and keeps going, ignoring the footsteps behind him.
Of course it's fucking Evan.
"Regulus." He calls after him, panting "Reg, what's going on?"
There's a hand on his shoulder, pulling, and even though Regulus knows it's Evan - it's his voice and his stupid perfume and his gentle hands - he panics.
"Let go of me." He whips around and his breath is stuck in his chest because Evan's too close and he can't even rationalise the fear that courses through him. He wants to run but his legs won't take him and he backs away until his body meets the wall and he knows that it's over. He's stuck again with no choice but to stay and it's going to hurt because he's made her angry again and again.
"Regulus." Evan's voice is nearly a whisper. His hands are raised and he's backing away. "I would never hurt you, Reg. Come on."
It's all so… Pathetic. Humiliating. He's sitting on the floor, gasping for air because he panicked and got scared of his own friend. Regulus brings his knees up and buries his face in his robes, too tired to do anything but hide.
Evan sits down right next to him. He doesn't touch him, but he's there, breathing loudly and smelling of a mix of herbs and something Regulus can't place.
"You can tell me." Is all he says, and then they sit in silence.
It takes Regulus an embarrassing amount of time to gather himself. He focuses on the sound of Evan's breathing and copies it, determined to be fucking normal for once. It doesn't work immediately and he stutters through it, his hunched over position not helping. But he gets there, eventually.
When he looks up and away from his own knees, Evan is looking at him with a worried pout on his lips.
"What's going on, Reg?"
And Regulus is so fucking tired. He's been on the verge of passing out everyday for the past week. He hasn't eaten in ages. His mother has managed to utterly and irreversibly fuck him up.
"I think I'm cursed." He mutters, and when he sees the confused look in Evan's eyes he says: "I'm being serious. She cursed me."
"How?"
"How would I know? All I know is that everything I eat tastes like shit and doesn't even register to my body as food. I've been eating, Evan. But I'm still starving. And the thought of trying to eat something and finding out I'm actually cursed in front of the whole castle made me want to puke my guts out." Regulus closes his eyes, breathing through his mouth "She hurt me and she hit me and I think she stabbed me but this is still the worst she's managed." He laughs and it's a sad, wretched thing. When he looks up Evan is looking at him with actual tears in his eyes. "Why are you crying?"
Evan just shakes his head and offers his arm. Regulus crumples against him like a puppet with its strings cut.
"Can I ask you some questions?"
Regulus nods against his chest.
"You can technically eat?"
"Technically."
"But you're still hungry and you're still losing weight."
"Yes."
"Did you eat anything besides what she gave you?"
"...Not really. Kreacher isn't allowed to bring me food."
Evan sucks in another sharp breath.
"So it could be that she's been cursing the food, but not you."
"Maybe."
They sit in silence, Evan's hands absentmindedly brushing up and down Regulus' arm.
"I have two ideas, Reg. Either we take you to the infirmary and Poppy checks you over for any curses and gives you some potions for the… starvation. Or we go to the kitchens, get food and just try."
"I don't like either of those ideas." Regulus admits. He's calmer by now, too wrung out to properly feel them "But a school nurse will have to notify the parents or the authorities. And I can't… That can't happen."
"...Why, Reg? We have solid proof that she's a vile monster."
"She's all I have left."
The moment the words leave his lips he feels Evan stiffen.
"Regulus, you are so fucking stupid sometimes." He squeezes his arm, protectively but not forcibly "You have me and Barty. Pandora and Dorcas. And your idiot of a brother. Don't make that face, you know he'd help if you actually decided to leave that fucking house." Regulus frowns again, for good measure.
"Kitchens." He decides, grimacing at his wrecked voice. "Please?"
Most of the elves are gone by the time they get there. Evan waves to Tappy, the elf they befriended back in second year when Sirius let the location of the kitchen slip, and she comes over with a massive smile on her face.
"Misters Evan and Regulus! Oh dear, Mister Regulus is thin." She frowns and turns to Evan "What would Misters like?"
"Just bread and butter, Tappy. Please and thank you." Evan grins and bats his eyelashes and Tappy is gone in a matter of seconds.
"She'd have gotten it even if you weren't such a slag." Regulus whispers and Evan elbows him gently.
The moment Tappy places a tray of steaming, golden buns and a slab of butter on the table in front of them Regulus loses his good mood.
"You have to try." Evan rips off a piece of the bun and stuffs it in his mouth "It's good!"
"You're disgusting." Regulus tries to smile and play it off, but his stomach is twisting.
He has to rip off the bandaid, as Dorcas says, and just fucking eat. He has to do it or he'll die by starvation and he refuses to die as an idiot.
He rips off a piece of the fluffy bread and puts it in his mouth before he has the time to overthink it.
And it tastes normal.
His whole body slumps with relief and he leans on Evan, chest shaking with hysterical laughter.
"I'm guessing it worked?"
And then instead of laughing he's crying, burying his face in Evan's shoulder and weeping like a child.
"Hey, Reggie." Evan holds him, petting his hair awkwardly. "It's alright, just let it out."
And Regulus does.
He cries about how hungry he is, about how much he still hurts, how scared he is to go home, how much he misses his brother, how sick and tired he is. He cries until he barely has enough energy left to keep going. And Evan holds him through it, brushing hair out of his face and rubbing a hand down his back.
"This is going to be so embarrassing tomorrow." He whispers, his voice cracking.
"Don't say that." Evan chastises him "You've done more embarrassing shit."
"Like what?"
"Like that time you forgot to charm your curtains locked and-"
"Shut up!" He laughs, pushing Evan away playfully. He's still hungry and he picks up the bread feeling just a pang of panic before he bites into it. "This might be the best food I've ever eaten."
Evan shakes his head and just looks at him while he eats. It's a little weird, but Regulus just had two separate breakdowns in front of him. If his friend wants to watch him eat, he can.
Evan stops him after just one bun and tells him he's going to get sick. Which is probably true but Regulus still isn't happy about it. They cover the remaining bread in napkins and take it to the dorm, walking in comfortable silence. Everyone should be back in their common rooms, so Regulus doesn't really expect Remus Lupin to walk out from behind a corner and go right up to them instead of passing in peace.
"What do you want?" Evan asks with a sharp smile.
"Prefect rounds. It's after curfew." And they all know that's bullshit.
"Why did Sirius send you?" Regulus asks, already done with dancing around questions for the night.
"He didn't." Lupin says and Regulus doesn't believe him for a second "I wanted to check up on you."
"And why's that?"
"Because you looked like death warmed over on the train." Lupin raises an eyebrow "And you willingly accepted my help."
"He's fine so you can fuck off." Evan takes Regulus' arm in his and half-drags him away. Usually Regulus would be offended but he lets Evan be a little overprotective. It's kind of funny.
They get to their dorm without any other impromptu meetings. Not even Pandora and Dorcas are waiting to ambush them, which means they trust Evan with Regulus. It's a blessing if it means he doesn't have to have any more difficult conversations for the evening.
Barty is already sleeping when they crawl into their beds. He's the one that snores, not Regulus, so his curtains are shut and permanently silenced. This and other, less decent reasons.
Regulus has half the mind to ask Evan to share his bed. He nibbles on his bread instead, not too fast or Evan will start staring daggers. It's a stupid idea. So he doesn't ask. But the whole night, as he struggles to fall asleep, he wishes he did.
To her credit, Dorcas doesn't immediately ask Regulus what happened.
She only does it when they have a free period and the two settle down in his empty dorm.
Barty and Evan are out, doing Merlin knows what, and their fourth roommate is a quiet boy named Tobias Flint who only comes back to sleep and doesn't really talk much. So Dorcas comes over often, not because she hates her roommates but because they can be… annoying. As teenagers tend to be.
"Can you explain what actually happened or do I have to interrogate Evan?" She asks when they settle down on the opposite sides of his bed.
"Do I have to?"
Dorcas kicks him in the shin with her socked foot and nods.
So Regulus recounts his food problem and mentions that his mother was worse than usual. He doesn't let things slip like he did with Evan because he's not having a panic attack this time around. Regulus feels relatively well, for the first time in weeks. He ate some of his breakfast and he keeps snacking on the bread, even if it's not as fresh as it was the night before. Evan's found a way to sneak a Chocolate Frog into his bag at some point before lunch and he reluctantly ate some of that, too. The fear isn't just gone with the curse. Regulus could only wish. But it's only the first day and he's better.
Dorcas, on the other hand, looks like she's about to throw up.
"This is borderline torture." She rubs her face, stray locs falling down from behind her shoulder "Jesus, Reg, no wonder you looked like shit."
"Thanks." He grumbles.
"Shut up, you look way better now." Dorcas picks on the hem of her shirt, untucked from her trousers. Slouched and dishevelled, she's the exact opposite of Regulus. "What are you going to do when the spring holidays come up?"
The short answer is: he doesn't know.
The long answer is: he's too scared to even consider it.
Regulus shrugs.
"You can't go back there."
"Dorcas, we talked about this."
"Yeah, and I don't agree!" She throws her hands out, expressional as always "What's keeping you there?"
Blood. Family. Legacy.
"I can't just leave. There are expectations."
"Oh, fuck expectations. What's waiting for you there? More torture? An arranged marriage? A boring ministry job, if they ever let you out of the house at all? You'll be miserable." She sighs, kicks him again and continues "I know you hate him. But look at Sirius."
"Absolutely not."
"He's having the time of his life outside of that house! He's living with his best friend, no one's beating the shit out of him anymore and he doesn't have to constantly worry about keeping up appearances. I'm not saying you should move to the Potter's house, but consider us."
"Who, Dorcas? You live in a muggle house and that's fine, but you're not protected against two powerful wizards with a grudge. And we couldn't place wards if we tried because we're underage. Evan's father would immediately turn me over to Mother. Barty's father would try to kill me on sight."
"And Pandora?"
"Do you really want to put Pandora in that much danger?"
That makes Dorcas go quiet.
"I just really hate that you'll have to go back there." She admits, looking down at her own hands.
"I know. I'm sorry."
There's not much he can say. Regulus doesn't make empty promises.
He feels bad about putting a damper on their free time, even if it was Dorcas who brought it up, so he asks.
"Tell me about Carrie again?"
Dorcas lights up immediately. It's a sight to behold.
Regulus gets better, one day at a time.
It's by no means quick, but he feels more like himself with every morning walk he takes with Pandora, every conversation he has with Dorcas, every time Evan offers him food at odd times and every time Barty does something ridiculous. The four of them orbit around Regulus, always making sure he's okay. It would be suffocating if he didn't love them so much.
Evan is the worst of them all. He's around Regulus every second of the day, which in itself isn't a problem, but he's protective to a fault. It was kind of cute until he started threatening third years like a maniac.
Of course, the day Regulus is finally alone and late to his Charms class because he forgot his homework and refused to make Evan walk back all the way to dungeons is the day Sirius decides he needs to talk.
He catches Regulus by surprise, grabbing his arm and appearing out of thin air.
"Let me go." He hisses, pulling his arm to no avail.
"I just want to talk-"
"I don't care!" Regulus raises his voice "Get the fuck off me."
And Sirius clearly doesn't understand because he doesn't let go. He starts talking about something Regulus doesn't even register and suddenly his mind is blank.
This is exactly why he got punished. For speculations about him and Sirius. And now Sirius is talking to him, in public, where everyone can see, and she'll find out and she'll kill him for it.
"Sirius, let go," He grits out, his heart beating out of his chest "Let me go!"
He doesn't.
Regulus rips his arm out of his brother's grip and runs.
He doesn't register anything until he's back in his dorm, heaving on the floor. It's empty, thank Merlin it's empty, and he just crumples there on the floor, convinced Walburga is already on her way to get rid of the faulty spare. That's what she told him after all. He wasn't important enough to keep, not anymore. And he'd just done the one thing he wasn't supposed to and she'll know. She always knows.
It takes him too long to calm down by himself. He wishes Evan was there to hold him and brush his fingers through his hair again. He wishes he wasn't shivering on the floor, completely alone.
He hates feeling so hopeless. He hates Sirius. He hates Sirius for assuming everything is fine and for finding his way into his life when it's the last thing Regulus needs. He hates Sirius for leaving and he hates Sirius for not caring and he hates Sirius for trying.
It's all exhausting. Regulus is exhausted. Permanently, it feels.
He sits there until the students start trickling back into the dorms. With great effort Regulus gets off the floor and onto his bed, smooths down his hair and picks up a book.
Evan bursts into their room a minute later, throws his bag on his bed and then sits down next to Regulus.
"Mind telling me why you suddenly decided to skip class?" He asks, casual, but Regulus knows he's being anything but.
"I didn't feel well."
Evan rips the battered copy of Crime and Punishment out of Regulus' hands and leans in, searching his eyes.
"And the truth?"
"That was the truth. I didn't feel well." It's not a lie, but it is an omission of truth.
Evan gets up after a moment and doesn't look at Regulus, not even when they walk to their next class.
Quidditch season starts up way too soon for anybody's liking. The biting January cold doesn't even have a chance to pass before Regulus and Evan are walking onto the pitch, bundled up in their warmest jackets.
"The match with Ravenclaw is in three weeks!" Their captain starts, voice raised over their chatter. Erin is a Scottish girl, pale but lively. Her and Regulus look alike in everything but spirit - her dark hair spills down her shoulders in free waves and her green eyes are bright and sparkling, unlike his rather grim demeanour. "I hope you're well rested after your holidays-" an awkward cough from Evan "-because we have got to win this game. Gryffindor's ahead of us in points but we can still catch up if we score high enough."
Regulus half listens to her speech. He pays attention enough to know what his role is (wait until they've scored enough but don't let the other seeker catch the snitch) and then he tunes it out.
In truth, he's anxious to get back on his broom.
He's been eating - Pandora and Evan have been making sure of that - and he's gained enough pounds to finally feel less sickly and more alive, but his stamina isn't what it used to be. He still gets winded after a few sets of stairs and anything faster than a stroll leaves him tired. This and the frost already turning his fingers a bright pink doesn't bode well for his performance today.
His doubts are proven false the moment he flies up into the air. Regulus has forgotten how much he loves flying, how good the wind feels on his cheeks.
He's exhausted halfway through practice. It's only because he's Seeker that he can tap out of the drills and just fly, otherwise he's sure he'd collapse, but he's doing fine. And he actually has fun. There's nothing between him and the snitch but the wind and the snow and they can't hurt him. He catches the snitch again and again until practice is over and he gets off his broom on shaky legs, his lungs burning but his mind quiet and calm.
Evan is waiting for him in front of the changing rooms. He tilts his head and smiles.
"You look…"
Happy. Excited. Alive.
"Yeah."
Regulus can't stop thinking about flying.
He misses that feeling of elated freedom when he's in class, when he eats, when he sleeps. It's a little bit ridiculous, because he's always loved flying. Maybe he appreciates it more, or maybe he realises he doesn't have much time left.
He sneaks out after dark, but instead of finding an empty classroom to snog, like most of the students do, he goes to the pitch.
He can't afford to light his wand, so he relies on his eyes as they get used to the dark. There's nothing stopping him from taking his broom from his locker and just. Flying.
He doesn't even chase a snitch. He just flies, circles around the pitch and weaves between the hoops, mindlessly races his own shadow. The moon and the stars light up his way and although he's careful not to fly up too high and get spotted, he itches to do so. He practises faints and sharp turns until his chest is burning and he gets lightheaded.
Regulus doesn't notice he's not alone anymore until he stops. He's breathing heavily, he feels dizzier than he anticipated, but it's nothing compared to the relief he feels. So of course it's James Potter who starts clapping mockingly from down below him.
He can't quite keep the scowl off of his face as he descends. Potter is head boy and he's no doubt going to be irritating about having caught him out after curfew. But then Regulus notices the broom leaning against the stands and the genuine smile of something akin to… admiration? On Potter's face.
"You're good." He says when Regulus gets off his broom and shakes out his stiff fingers. His body aches in the best way and even Potter's presence can't ruin that.
"If you're going to give me detention just get on with it."
"That would be hypocritical of me, don't you think?"
"Hasn't stopped you before."
And Potter's eyes are literally sparkling with mirth. There must be something deeply wrong with him, Regulus thinks.
"I'm serious, you're good in the air. Better than any seeker I've seen."
"Shut up," Regulus says, but his cheeks burn. Thank Merlin they're already bright pink from the cold.
It dawns on him that he should be panicking about associating with his brother's best friend. But there's no one there besides them and he's too exhilarated from the flight to care.
"That won't save you from losing the Quidditch cup, of course, but…" Potter smirks, standing with his arms crossed on his chest and Regulus huffs.
"You Gryffindors will still eat shit."
Potter shrugs.
"We'll see."
Then he picks up his broom and flies away.
It takes everything in Regulus to keep walking instead of looking back and seeing him in action.
"We have to beat Gryffindor." Is the first thing he says when he enters the dorm.
"Where the hell have you been?" Evan asks, already standing up to look him over. He raises his chin, searches for any signs of injury or impending death until Regulus swats his hands away. Pandora, Dorcas and Barty are there, too, the girls stretched out on his bed.
"I went flying."
"At ten in the evening? Alone?"
Regulus nods, unaware of what exactly Evan's problem is.
"Yes, and we have to beat Gryffindor."
"It's not that I disagree, but what brought this on?" Dorcas asks, twirling a loc of her hair between her fingers. Tiny blue koi fish weave around it, activated by her touch.
"Potter." He gets four confused, outraged looks "He just needs to be brought down a notch."
"Since when do you care?" Barty asks.
"Since he started gloating in front of me." Regulus says, like it's obvious "I know you guys more or less don't care about Quidditch but I got excited about the Cup, that's all."
"So you sneak out, at night, without a word, for two hours and then meet Potter? And you're surprised we were worried?" Evan asks, frowning.
"You have nothing to worry about-"
"The last time we didn't see you for an extended amount of time you came back half dead and cursed." Pandora interrupts.
Regulus feels guilty now, which is just great.
"I didn't think about that." He admits.
"Of course you didn't." Evan says, gives him a disappointed look and leaves.
Regulus looks at his retreating back with an awful, tight sensation in his gut.
"He'll come around." Dorcas promises and pats the spot next to her on the narrow bed. "Now tell me about Potter. How annoying was he?"
Regulus itches to go flying again for the rest of the week. He can't, not with the way Evan's face grimaces involuntarily whenever they're in the same vicinity as Potter and the Marauders. They have practice every other day and it's good for Regulus, his strength improving with every day, but it just isn't the same as streaking across the dark pitch without a worry in the world.
So when he finally makes it, after several assurances to Evan that he's only going flying and he'll be right back with no pit stops, he doesn't expect Potter to be waiting.
"I expected to see you here sooner." Is the first thing he says, leaning against the stands with that same cocky attitude.
"The world doesn't revolve around you, Potter." Regulus replies, his teasing tone coming out meaner than he intended it to. But Potter only laughs and gets on his broom.
"Race you."
Regulus doesn't waste time and chases after him, immediately going full speed. His broom propels him high in the air in a matter of seconds and he has to force himself not to smile. It's exhilarating, it always is, but having another person in the mix doesn't ruin it. No, chasing after Potter, copying his dangerous turns and high ascents makes him loopy with adrenaline. It's a rush and he doesn't want to come down.
But they do, eventually. After racing each other back and forth, constantly overtaking the other for what feels like hours, they have to come down. Regulus' fingers are freezing and he's going to fall off his broom if he tries to hold on any longer, but he holds out until Potter lands first.
"This was fun." He breathes out, carelessly throwing his broom on the grass and sitting down. Regulus shakes his head, leans his own against the stands and then joins him.
They sit in silence for a minute, regulating their breathing and shaking out their limbs. It's not uncomfortable, but as the adrenaline wears off, Regulus starts feeling uneasy.
Because what exactly is James Potter doing here, with him? What's his reason?
"Did you just come here to spy on me for Sirius?" He blurts out without thinking. He turns his head to look at Potter, who turns away uncomfortably. "You did, didn't you?"
"Only at first." Potter says and grabs his arm before he has the chance to stand up and leave. "He wanted to see how you were and he knew you would freak out if it was him. But it was only that night. He shouldn't know where I've been going the whole week." Potter grimaces like the thought of hiding something from Sirius is physically painful.
"What do you mean the whole week?" Regulus asks and shakes Potter's hand off of his shoulder.
"I didn't know when you'd be going." Potter says, like it's completely normal that he's been waiting for Regulus, at night, on the Quidditch pitch, for a good five days in a row.
Regulus doesn't know what to say to that. It's a little insane, even for Potter.
"And why did you want to see me?"
"I already told you." And Potter looks at him, his brown eyes shining from behind his glasses "You're good. Watching you in the air was…" He trails off. "I wanted to know how it'd feel."
Regulus is not blushing. He's not.
"You're not too bad, either." He admits. In truth, Potter is one of the most skilled chasers Regulus has seen. His ego doesn't need to know that.
"Do you maybe want to do this again?" Potter asks, smiling sheepishly. There's a barely noticeable dimple on his left cheek as he does and Regulus needs a few seconds to compute the question.
"Together?"
"Yeah. As much as I loved sitting here in the cold, I'd rather just know when you plan on going flying."
"I don't really… plan it." Regulus admits. "Maybe Wednesday?" It's when Evan's classes accumulate and Regulus hopes he'll be too busy studying to chew him out for doing something as idiotic as meeting up with Potter.
"Sure. Wednesday." Potter nods, then shivers "I should head back."
He looks at Regulus, the question evident in his eyes.
"You go first." He says "My mother… anyone sees us together and she'll know. So don't tell anyone."
Potter doesn't look surprised, which says a lot about how well he knows Walburga's parenting methods.
"See you, then." He flashes a smile and gets up, leaving Regulus alone with his thoughts.
Regulus doesn't mean for it to become a regular occurrence. It kind of just happens.
Once a week, after curfew, he'll sneak out under the pretext of doing Prefect rounds and go to the pitch. Potter will already be waiting and they'll waste no time in getting in the air.
The more they fly together, the more accustomed to each other they get. Regulus will start predicting Potter's turns and his regular plays. In turn, Potter follows him with newfound agility he hadn't needed before.
And after, when they're coming down from the high and sitting on the cold, wet ground, they'll talk.
At first it's just Potter, babbling. He talks about his classes, his friends (with the exception of Sirius), his family. He goes on and on about his week, how hard NEWTs classes are, and how he's preparing his team for the match. Regulus listens and he pays attention, but he doesn't offer any information. So Potter feels the need to ask. He interrogates Regulus about who his friends are (Evan, Dorcas, Pandora and Barty), what his favourite subject is (Charms), what his favourite colour is and whether it's black or green (it's actually periwinkle), what he thinks his Patronus may be (this, he doesn't answer). And Regulus finds that he doesn't mind. The thirty or so minutes spent on just talking always pass too quickly and he always catches himself disappointed that Potter needs to go.
It feels like the match between Slytherin and Ravenclaw creeps up on him.
It's an exceptionally cold Sunday and the day before Valentine's day. It's the first holiday since Christmas and New Year's, which Regulus missed, and the whole student body is using it as an excuse to be incredibly annoying.
"Throw that at me one more time." Regulus threatens a cackling Barty, who's been dousing people in charmed, pink and red confetti the whole morning.
He's getting choked up about eating, which Evan notices immediately. He's been severely overprotective since winter break, and because Regulus did very embarrassingly have two full out breakdowns in front of him, he can't really tell him to stop in good conscience. Evan puts two buns, the same ones Tappy got them that night, on his plate and shuffles closer so their shoulder's touch. Regulus sighs and nods his head, nudging his shoulder back. He doesn't really mean to look over to the Gryffindor table, but his eyes wander of their own accord.
Sitting between Marlene, Dorcas' girlfriend, and Lupin, is Potter. And he's staring. Marlene tells him something, her short, blonde hair sticking out in all directions, and he nods, eyes still stuck on Regulus and Evan until she elbows him roughly. Potter notices Regulus looking back at him, looks away as if he's been burned and stumbles through his answer to Marlene, embarrassed. Evan snorts inelegantly next to Regulus. Absentmindedly scratching his warm team sweater, which he only wears when they're playing a match, Regulus manages to eat the two buns. He can't stomach anything else and Evan doesn't push him, but Barty hands him a wrapped pastry as Regulus and Evan start leaving early. Regulus' cheeks burn but he takes it, thanking Barty with a nod.
The rest is routine. They change, go through their warm ups and spill out onto the pitch. It's overcast, the sky covered in a pretty solid wall of clouds. That should help Regulus find the snitch, theoretically. Practically, it means the other seeker has better chances and he'll need to stall until his team scores enough points.
As the whistle blows and the game starts, Regulus notices Potter and his friends in the stands. Potter pointedly looks away, whispers something to Sirius, and Regulus smirks, perfectly aware that he was watching him.
He doesn't tune out the commentary for once, following the points with focus. Slytherin isn't doing too bad, already leading seventy to thirty by the time Regulus spots the snitch. He looks to the other side of the pitch, where the Ravenclaw seeker stares in the opposite direction, and he does the hardest thing in the world. He stays put. Because they need a higher score.
Erin flies by him, winking with the quaffle in her possession, perfectly aware of the snitch fluttering away from their sights.
It's not the most interesting game in the world for a seeker. He circles the pitch and waits for his Captain's nod of approval, but it just doesn't come. Ravenclaw overtakes them in points only once, at the one hundredth mark, but then they're back on, Evan bagging three consecutive goals in a row.
Erin finally finds him and nods her head, barely noticeably, after scoring the sixteenth goal.
Regulus has been looking around for the snitch the whole time, but neither him nor the other seeker have spotted it. It takes him three more goals, thankfully all from his team, to finally notice a flutter of gold near the commentator's booth. And Regulus takes off.
It's a mad chase, the Ravenclaw seeker following him, just a fraction too slowly. She can't quite execute his sharp turns as he follows the snitch, uncaring for the world around him. He's hyper focused, ignoring the freezing cold and the stiffness of his joints. He'll catch the snitch, he knows, he just needs to get closer. The snitch descends with rapid speed, approaching the ground with Regulus' stretched out hand right behind it.
Regulus catches it. Of course he does. It flutters in his fist and the stands erupt in deafening cheers as he angles his broom upwards, feet grazing the grass. His heart beats out of his chest as he finally lands, perfectly aware of just how stupid and reckless he just was, but it doesn't really matter when Evan, Erin and the rest of his team meet him for a group hug.
The whole team did well, so Erin doesn't waste time for a post game speech. She praises their chasers for scoring so many points and their beaters for keeping the bludgers away from Regulus. She praises everyone, her Scottish accent jumping out when she's excited, and Regulus finds himself giddy. He looks up, towards the Gryffindor stands, and finds Potter looking down at them. It's too far for him to be certain it's Regulus he's looking at, but he just knows. He knows that their eyes meet and his stomach turns, not unpleasantly.
While the party rages down in the common room, the five of them lounge in the boys' dorm. Their fourth roommate is missing, as always, and Regulus is pretty sure he either dropped out or just doesn't exist. He voices his thoughts from where he's slumped against Evan, and Barty chortles at him.
"I love drunk Reg." He reaches down to where Evan and Regulus sit on the floor and messes up his hair "He's the funniest."
"I'm always funny." Regulus shakes his head and then lets it drop onto Evan's shoulder. He's warm, he smells like the perfume Regulus is so used to and, most importantly, he likes touching him. His arm is loosely wrapped around his back and it stays there.
"We love you for reasons other than your comedic talent." Dorcas yawns, her head in Pandora's lap. There's spinning flowers in her hair now. "Or lack thereof."
"You love me?" Regulus asks into Evan's shoulder, and then adds "You don't find me funny?"
Everyone laughs at him and not with him, but it still makes Regulus smile.
"Come on, let's play something." Barty claps "Everyone's having fun downstairs and you're all falling asleep."
"We played in the freezing cold for like, two hours, Barty." Evan shakes his head, but he and Regulus shuffle over to the middle of the room. There's carpet on the floor, but it's still cold from the stone floor. Pandora and Dorcas join them and Barty, and the Ravenclaw casts a warming charm.
"God, we have class tomorrow." Dorcas complains, then checks the time. "Make it quick, I have Muggle studies at eight."
"Spin the bottle?" Barty asks.
It was Dorcas who introduced them to the muggle game and it immediately became Barty's favourite. The four of them nod, although reluctantly.
Barty starts, spinning the empty glass bottle with flourish. It lands on Dorcas.
"Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
Barty thinks for a moment, because they all know most that there is to know about each other. Coming up with questions has become increasingly more difficult with every time they play the game.
"What's the weirdest place you and Marlene have snogged?"
If Dorcas could, she would blush, but instead she looks away with an embarrassed smile.
"Filch's office."
There's a chorus of shocked "Ew"s that Regulus is, to his horror, a part of.
"Why?! It's the last place I'd want to be caught kissing! He'd probably tell you to lick the stairs clean if he caught you doing that." Barty throws his hands out and Dorcas snickers.
"He left us alone in detention! That's practically asking for a pair of horny teenagers to make out."
"That sounds way worse than what actually happened." Regulus laughs.
Dorcas spins and it lands on Pandora.
"Dare," She says confidently.
"I dare you to switch our ties," Dorcas says, and then undoes her already loose knot. The girls switch, only to find out Pandora looks exceptionally good in Slytherin green. She spins the bottle with a drunk giggle.
"Evan! Truth or Dare?"
"Dare."
"I dare you to kiss the prettiest person in the room." Pandora smiles innocently, then falls back against Dorcas.
Evan tilts his head, thinking. Regulus watches with curiosity, expecting it to be Barty, or Dorcas. They're objectively gorgeous, Barty working the sandy blonde hair and brown eyes look and Dorcas being- well, Dorcas. You would have to be blind to call her anything but attractive.
But Evan turns towards him, puts a hand on his jaw and kisses him.
Regulus doesn't move. He doesn't even realise what's happening until Evan is moving away and Regulus is gaping, shocked and frozen.
It's just-
That was his first kiss.
"Aww, it's after midnight!" Pandora sighs "It's Valentine's day."
Regulus blinks and clears his throat. Right. It was a dare. It doesn't matter that Evan kissed him, and besides, he's probably not who he thinks the prettiest person is. Dorcas is a lesbian and Pandora is half asleep in her lap and Barty- Actually, why didn't he just kiss Barty?
Evan didn't dislodge Regulus from his shoulder, so he's still leaning on him when he realises he has to spin that stupid bottle. Evan moves away and it's awkward, but he spins and it lands back on Barty and nothing's actually changed.
Just Regulus' whole world, it seems.
He can't stop thinking about that stupid kiss.
Everyone acts like normal, including Evan, but Regulus keeps replaying it in his head. His first kiss. It's stupid is what it is, but he's embarrassed. He didn't do anything, didn't even close his eyes. He just stared. And it was Valentine's day? His first kiss, on Valentine's day, and it was a dare. Not even his dare, no, it was Evan's, and he probably chose Regulus over Barty for shit's and giggles.
He stomps onto the pitch on Wednesday, throws his coat on the ground and flies up into the air. Potter stands below him for a solid second before he catches up, and then they're off.
Regulus practically crashes down when they're done. He's properly exhausted: he chased Potter around relentlessly, flying faster and faster until he didn't feel anything but the adrenaline in his veins. But now that he's back down, sweaty, cold and thinking of Evan again, he's pissed.
"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Potter asks, his chest heaving. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and Regulus follows the movement with his gaze before he snaps out of it.
"It's nothing."
"That wasn't nothing."
"It's embarrassing. I'm not telling you." Regulus sits down, grimacing at how wet the grass is.
"It might make you feel better?"
He profoundly doubts that.
But he bites.
"I kissed someone." He admits, then shakes his head "Someone kissed me."
Potter frowns "Without consent?"
"Well, kind of? But we were drunk and-"
"That's even worse."
"It wasn't like that." Regulus says before Potter has a chance to get worked up and self righteous over nothing. "It was a dare, so he picked me."
"Still sounds like you didn't actually agree to do it."
"It's just a kiss." Regulus snaps. "Are you going to hear me out or do I have to leave?"
"Sorry." Potter backs out, sounding impressively put out because of it.
"I don't think he knew it was my first." Regulus says into the dark pitch, pretending Potter and his stupid, convincing eyes aren't there "Or that I'm queer."
It's silent. Regulus fiddles with his fingers, waiting for some kind of reaction, but Potter is quiet.
"This is what finally gets you to shut up?"
And Potter laughs. It's quiet, but it makes Regulus relax a fraction.
"I was just thinking. I didn't know what to say."
"Just say what's actually on your mind."
Regulus looks up, into the sky. Some of the stars are showing up through the dark clouds, but not his.
"I think your friend should have asked for permission, no matter how drunk you all were." Potter's looking straight at him, Regulus knows. He doesn't look back, squirming with the feeling of being seen. "I think you're allowed to be upset that your first kiss wasn't special. I wouldn't have taken you for a romantic, though."
He knows it's supposed to make him cheer up, but it doesn't really help.
"I can't believe I had my first kiss with a hot guy, on Valentine's day, and it was for a dare." Regulus frowns into the sky "I wish I could have a do-over."
"You can."
That's what finally makes him look at Potter. He has that tentative smile on his face again and he's looking at Regulus, his fingers fiddling with strands of grass.
"What do you mean?"
"You know how virginity is a construct?" When he sees Regulus' face, Potter backtracks "We'll leave that topic for another time. You can just say that this wasn't your first kiss at all. It wasn't real, so it doesn't count."
"That would be lying."
"If you stumbled and fell onto an old person and your lips accidentally touched as you knocked their teeth out, would that be a kiss?"
Regulus can't even try to conceal the laugh that bursts out of his chest.
"That's ridiculous."
"But it proves that you still haven't been kissed. Not in my opinion. So you get a do-over."
"With my luck, that do-over will happen at the next party with another random person who is desperate enough or has literally no other choice." Regulus mumbles, looking down and away from Potter's easy smile.
"Hey," Potter starts and Regulus looks back at him again. "The stars are out, we're on the Quidditch pitch and I'm offering to be your first real kiss."
Regulus stares at him long enough for Potter's smile to falter.
"What?"
"I mean, it's all the things you love. You love flying, you love Quidditch, you love the stars," Potter counts on his hand "And I'm not the worst looking guy in the school? I hope."
"You're insane." Regulus accuses, but he's smiling, the corners of his mouth pulling up of their own accord "And incredibly stupid."
"Some would say those are my best quali-"
He's interrupted by Regulus leaning in and pressing their lips together on a whim.
Regulus doesn't know what he's doing. He has no idea and his plan doesn't extend beyond their lips meeting. Potter smells like Quidditch - grass, sweat, broom polish, the wind - and his lips are warm. And then they start moving. Regulus follows Potter's lead, hands clenched in his own lap even after Potter gently cradles his face. He doesn't do anything beyond that gentle pull of their lips, the back and forth. It's slow and it's soft and Regulus is warm all over, his stomach flipping.
He's kissing James Potter.
He's kissing James Potter.
He doesn't pull away in a panic. He lets Potter kiss him, he lets him take the lead and he lets him choose when it's over. His eyes are still closed when he moves back, just enough for his breath to still be on Regulus' lips. He's scared to open them, but he does, and then James is looking at him with the softest smile.
And Regulus is truly and utterly fucked.
"I kissed James Potter." He blurts out to Dorcas the second they're alone in a secluded corner of the library.
She splutters, drops her Arithmancy textbook on the table and squeaks out: "What?!"
Madam Pince promptly tells them to shut it.
"We kissed." Regulus whispers, their heads hovering over his notes "Like, full on kissed, it wasn't just a peck."
"Oh my god, you snogged James Potter."
"We didn't snog, we just kissed." He whispers adamantly.
"When did that even happen?"
"So you know how I have Prefect patrol between ten and twelve every Wednesday?" Dorcas nods "Yeah, I don't. We've been meeting on the pitch to fly and then we usually end up talking before we go back."
"We will have words about this."
"Sure. So we did our usual thing, and then I told him I was upset with Evan kissing me, but don't tell him that, and he just…? Offered to be my first 'real' kiss? And I agreed?"
"You, what?" Dorcas sputters "He just happened to offer?"
"He went on about how romantic it was because I love flying and the stars and he told me he'd be my first real kiss if I wanted. So I kissed him."
"You kissed him?"
"That's what I've been saying!" Regulus whisper-shouts.
"Why were you even upset with Evan in the first place? Don't you two have a thing going on?"
And it's Regulus' turn to be confused and sputtering.
"Since when?"
"Christmas? He's been so overprotective and touchy, me and Pandora were waiting for you to announce a relationship or something."
"We're just friends."
"I mean, if that's what you think."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing! How was Potter?" She smirks, nudging his shoulder "Come on, spill."
"It was good, I think?"
"Did you like it? Did you go all dizzy and warm and happy?"
"That's… yes, that's exactly it." Regulus frowns "How'd you know?"
Dorcas shrugs, "It's how I feel when I kiss Marlene."
And isn't that a thought to mull over later when he's alone.
"We need to actually get your essay done." He picks up his quill and points to the notes "You need a lot of help."
"That's what you're here for." She smiles and they get back to work.
Regulus nearly managed to forget about mother. Nearly.
So he's not as much surprised as he is scared when the other shoe drops and he gets a letter signed in her perfect cursive. He puts it into his pocket during breakfast and doesn't look.
It burns a hole through his robes the entire day and he's tempted to set it on fire. He can't focus on any of his classes and he knows he should get this over with and just read it, but he can't. Not in the middle of the day, not between classes and not alone.
It's Wednesday. His mother has always had impeccable timing. But he doesn't skip his meeting with James. He can't, because there's no way to tell him and letting him wait in the cold would be cruel. And it's their first meeting since the kiss. Regulus has to be there.
It's warmer than when they first flew together, but not by a big margin. His fingers are still icy cold, his poor circulation being of little help, and he imagines his nose and cheeks are a rosy pink by the time they get off their brooms.
"You're upset again." James points out, but not unkindly. It's an observation, one that is true. Regulus doesn't know how he always seems to know that something's off, but he sighs and plops down next to him anyways.
"I got a letter."
"Your mother?" Regulus nods, taking it out of his pocket. It's creased and he straightens it out automatically.
James doesn't prompt him to read it, or even to say anything. He sits there in silence and waits.
Regulus opens it with shaking hands.
Regulus,
You have disappointed us once again.
I gave you your final warning yet you chose to ignore it. This is the last time I let you taint the family name.
I expect you home for spring break.
Mother.
A hysterical laughter bubbles out of his chest.
His mother's going to kill him. She's actively planning to do it. She'll probably make it look like an accident, or a suicide. She has the means and the determination to do it and nobody will ever find out the truth.
In the back of his head, Regulus knows James is asking him things and trying to talk. He blindly hands him the letter and hunches in on himself.
And he didn't even do anything wrong. Not in front of other people. Nobody knew where he was going besides the people he trusts. Nobody was even in the vicinity. He has no idea what his mother's so angry about, he doesn't know if it's James, or Evan, or Dorcas. He doesn't know if the reason even exists.
There are arms around him. He sniffs, shaking with half suppressed sobs and James holds him.
He feels like a scared child. Like he's five again and Sirius is about to get punished and they're just waiting for their mother to start screaming. Like he's fourteen and Sirius tells him he's leaving and he doesn't ask Regulus to come with. Like he's laying on the floor in a pool of his own blood and she's cutting off his circulation for nothing but her amusement.
"I'm sorry." He mumbles when he's finally calmed down enough to catch his breath "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"
"It's okay." James doesn't let go of him, not even when Regulus rubs his face and stops crying. "You didn't do anything wrong."
That elicits a pained laugh from Regulus.
"All I do is wrong, didn't you see?" He nods towards the crumbled letter at their feet "She thinks so."
"She's a crazy, manipulative monster."
Regulus has never heard someone speak about his mother with such hate and conviction. Nobody has ever liked Walburga, but James' hate rivals his brother's.
"It doesn't matter. I have to go back." Regulus shrugs, the familiar detachment creating a void in his lungs.
"You're not going back there." James shakes his head vehemently "I won't let you."
"James, I have to." He's tired. He doesn't have the energy to argue with him, of all people. "Just let it go."
"I can't just let it go. I care about you." He pushes stubbornly "You're going back there over my dead body."
"If you try to stop her, then yes, probably." Regulus closes his eyes "Besides, you don't actually care about me. I'm just Sirius' younger brother. You don't even know me."
"I don't see Sirius here. And I know you, Regulus." James' hand moves from his shoulder up to his face, cradling it gently just like it did when they kissed "I know your favourite colour is periwinkle, which is just a fancy way of saying light blue, I checked. I know you love Quidditch, you're an adrenaline junkie on a broom and the best seeker I've seen in years. I know you love your friends, I know you planned on putting charmed, popping poppies in Dorcas' hair next. I know you're excited for Pandora to finish reading "Frankenstein" because you've been waiting since before the break. I know you're a soppy romantic because, unlike most people, you hated a drunk kiss being your first and you needed a re-do. I know Evan and Barty keep giving you extra food because I pay attention and I care, just like they do. I know you didn't have this scar before winter break, because I've been looking for longer than you'd think." His thumb glides across the cut on Regulus' cheek and he sucks in a sharp breath. "I care about you so much, it's embarrassing."
Regulus shakes his head, blinking away the tears gathering in his eyes.
"It's not. It's not embarrassing."
"No?" James asks, leaning in so close, Regulus thinks they're going to kiss. Their foreheads meet and Regulus reaches out with his shaking fingers to put his hands over James'.
"It's really not."
Regulus closes the gap between them just like he did last time. There's nothing slow or unhurried about it, because Regulus feels like he's running out of time and he needs James, here and now. He tastes his own tears, salty on James' lips. He needs to be closer; he needs James, he needs to feel something other than raw fear and sadness. Hands cradle his cheeks, their knees knock together, the ground is wet underneath them and the wind is howling. The stars are unmoving.
Regulus knows he'll have to go back there regardless.
He doesn't tell anyone. Not about the letter, not about James.
He doesn't tell James that he's going back, either. He seems to have deluded himself into thinking Regulus will stay, at least for spring break, and he can't break it to him. Not when James finds every spare moment they have and appears out of thin air to push him into an empty classroom.
They don't just snog. But they do a lot of it. They're teenagers, it's self explanatory.
Spending time outside of a dark Quidditch pitch takes some getting used to. That's still their favourite spot, but not seeing each other for a whole week after the revelation that they like to kiss each other seems criminal. Regulus isn't stupid enough to think it's just kissing, but neither of them has said the magic words. "Relationship". "Boyfriend". He's not going to be the first, that's for sure. He's made enough first moves for his whole life with those first two kisses.
Seeing James Potter in secret is exciting. All the sneaking around makes Regulus feel squirmy, in the best way, and stealing his looks across the Great Hall makes him feel giddy. It's unserious but it makes him happy, so sue him.
The first thing James does after pulling him into another empty classroom is kiss his face, right where the scar sits, high on his cheekbone. Regulus blushes and clears his throat, weaving their hands together.
"How was practice?"
He doesn't know James' whole plan, he's not mental, but it's not hard to deduct when his hair is still wet and he's wearing his red and gold team sweater.
"Great, actually. Amanda is still stiff after her injury but she's improving, so we'll totally destroy you in May." Regulus smiles and nods, knowing full well he might not actually make it to spring after his mother's done with him. "Our seeker could use some tips, though, he's… Not hopeless, and our last resort, but he's not as good as you."
"I'm not going to help you win." Regulus leans against one of the tables, dragging James closer. "And if this is all an elaborate scheme to steal my technique…"
"You got me." James mockingly raises his free hand in surrender. "I spend every free period in old, dusty classrooms to steal your signature move."
"What move would that be?"
And they're kissing again, Regulus' hips digging into the desk.
When they pull apart, their lips tingling and red, James asks, seemingly out of nowhere: "When's your birthday?"
"Fifteenth of May. Why?"
"No reason." James smiles and leans in again, kissing him, unaware of the turmoil inside Regulus' head.
He won't even live to see seventeen. And isn't that a revelation.
Fortunately, James' lips are plenty distracting.
Regulus doesn't even know how they end up in those unused classrooms so often, but they do. James drags him to one after breakfast, when they have fifteen minutes to their first period. Then again, after dinner, when Regulus is supposed to be checking a book out of the library. The next day, in the twenty minute break between periods. Regulus does more kissing and talking in those short little respites than he's ever done in his whole life,
They have to get back to their dorms after a very quick meeting (in a broom closet this time around) sooner than they'd have liked. James pulls him back in for a goodbye kiss a good three times before Regulus can actually leave, which he does reluctantly. He's walking on clouds all the way to the dungeons, smiling to himself like a maniac.
He hasn't seen that much of Evan today, not with the way their electives are planned, so he's ready to hear him chatter away when he notices his grim expression.
"Hey." He starts and throws his bag on the bed. He's unsure of what to do when Evan stands up, his eyes fixated on Regulus' messed up tie "What's up?"
"Is something going on, Reg?" He asks without preamble.
"No, what do you mean?" He replies a beat too quickly and internally winces.
"You're gone all the time. I feel like I don't even see you around anymore."
"I'm fine, Evan. Just busy." He promises, but doesn't look Evan in the eye.
"You would tell me if it was getting bad again?" Evan reaches out slowly and puts a hand on his shoulder.
"I would. I promise."
"That's good." He swallows visibly "I was worried. And I wanted to tell you something but I…"
"What is it, Evan?" Regulus tilts his head, concern swirling in his stomach "Is everything alright?"
"I don't know how to say it." Evan shuts his eyes, shakes his head and whispers: "Damn it."
And then Evan's kissing him, still clutching Regulus' hand. He freezes, only thinking of James and how this isn't supposed to be happening, panicking with Evan's lips on his.
Evan moves away like he's been burned, his entire face red.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me." He steps back and sits on his bed "I'm so sorry."
"It's…" Decidedly not fine "It's okay, Evan, I'm not mad. Just don't do it again?"
Evan laughs weakly despite everything.
"I just- Why don't you like me back?" He asks, his usually collected demeanour crumbling. "What's wrong with me?"
"There's nothing wrong with you, Evan. You're still my friend." Regulus sits down on his own bed, not feeling comfortable with trying to hug Evan right now. He realises he needs to tell him the truth, if only to make him feel better about this whole fiasco. "I've been seeing someone."
"What?" Evan's head shoots up from behind his hands "Who?"
Regulus winces.
"James Potter? Just don't tell anyone, please."
Evan takes a second to process and then buries his face back in his hands with a groan.
"Do you want me to leave you alone? I'll leave you alone."
Regulus flees.
Dorcas is in the common room, thank Merlin, watching the fish skirt across the windows. Regulus throws himself on the cushion in front of her and groans.
"What's happened, my little drama queen?" She asks, not even moving from her seat.
"Evan happened."
"Oh my god, finally! Why do you look so bummed about it? And I thought you two were already together with all the sneaking around you've been doing."
When Regulus looks up and stares at her with a grim face, she realises.
"Wow."
"Yeah, wow." Regulus scoffs "Evan kissed me by surprise, again. We need to tell him about boundaries by the way. And then I had to let him down."
"Because you're shagging whoever else behind our backs?"
"We're not shagging!" Regulus hides his face in his palms "We're just…"
"Let me guess, kissing a lot and not telling anyone without a proper label on your relationship."
"You'd know."
She shows him the finger.
"Everything's a fucking mess." Regulus sighs, leaning back and watching the lake.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?" Dorcas asks and Regulus looks at her, illuminated by the green light from the window. Her eyebrows are furrowed lightly in clear concern.
It's the end of February. He has less than two months left before he goes home and never comes back. He can't tell Dorcas anything she'd want to hear.
"Of course."
James doesn't waste any time on greetings the next time they see each other because he's an absolute menace. He presses Regulus against the wall, makes his brain go fuzzy for a good five minutes by kissing him and then smiles like he'd just won an award. Regulus' plan of telling him about Evan before it has the chance to become a thing goes a little off track. But not entirely.
"Evan kissed me again." He says, still catching his breath. James stiffens, takes a step back and crosses his arms on his chest. Uh oh.
"Again? He's the guy from before?"
"Turns out he has a crush on me." Regulus makes a face, still put off by the idea. It's not that he suddenly hates Evan, he still loves him, platonically. It's just. The two of them, together? Weird.
"Really."
"What, are you jealous?" Regulus teases, but he's not being serious. He can hear James grit his teeth from where he's standing.
"Of course I'm jealous my boyfriend got kissed by another guy."
That word.
Regulus thanks Merlin he's leaning against the wall because his knees genuinely go weak.
"Your boyfriend?" He manages, a little bit breathless.
"Of course you're my boyfriend." James says, like it was obvious. "You didn't know?"
"We never talked about it."
And it's James' turn to blush, a barely noticeable red sheen appearing on his cheeks.
"Regulus Arcturus Black, do you want to be my boyfriend?"
"I thought you said we were already boyfriends."
"Just say yes."
"Yes, you idiot." Regulus laughs and kisses him, bringing him down to his level with a hand twisted into his messy hair.
The door opens and they jump away from each other like they'd been burned.
Remus Lupin clears his throat and shuts it behind himself.
"James, you should seriously be thanking fuck Sirius didn't have the map today."
James winces, looking between Regulus and Lupin like a spooked animal.
"Moony, it's not-"
"Not what I think? How stupid do you think I am?"
Regulus seriously can't catch a fucking break.
"Can you not tell anyone?" He literally pleads, his cheeks burning "Especially Sirius?"
"Prongs…" Lupin turns to his friend, shaking his head "You're secretly dating his little brother and you want me to keep it a secret from him? Are you being serious right now?"
"I would tell him if it was up to me." And that's news to Regulus, who raises his eyebrows. "Their mother can't find out, but he turns seventeen in two months, okay?"
"And you think Sirius is going to be the one to tell Walburga?"
"Two months, Moony." James asks "Two months and he'll be free."
Regulus watches them talk with a sick feeling. It's like watching a Quidditch accident in slow motion – they don't know he's not coming back. Mother will drag him home for the holidays regardless of their little pact and she'll kill him and he won't ever be free or seventeen.
"Lupin, I'm asking. For my sake, don't tell anybody," He interrupts them "James, I'll see you."
He bolts out of the classroom before either of them has the chance to speak.
March flies by faster than Regulus anticipated.
It seems like Lupin keeps his word. No one bothers Regulus and James, who's suspiciously tight lipped about the situation. They still see each other, although more carefully, and they still sneak off to fly. Regulus feels like every time he meets James only lasts minutes. They can fly and talk for hours and he'll have to leave desperately longing for more time.
The Evan situation is delicate. To say the least.
They both pretend nothing happened but Evan's death glares at James are impossible to miss. Everyone notices the weird tension between him and Regulus and the fact that he's been spending less time with them, but no one brings it up.
The spring holidays creep closer.
Regulus decides to write down a list.
He's too scared to write letters – he still hopes to survive, or at least get to say his goodbyes in person. But he writes down a list of items his friends, plus James, can take from his trunk. Pandora gets all of his books, of course. Dorcas gets all of the rings and brooches he rarely wears that he knows will fit her and all of the useless knick knacks she'll actually appreciate. Evan gets all of their photos with a note attached to please duplicate them and share with the rest. James gets his quidditch equipment and his broom, which includes the first snitch Regulus ever caught. Barty gets to take whatever else he finds because Regulus knows that's what he'll like best. It's not much – he'd prefer to leave them something special – but it's all he has. He sticks the list to the bottom of his trunk with a solid spell.
Regulus can't explain why he's so convinced he has to go home, not even to himself. He could stay, theoretically. He comes of age in May. But that's only if Walburga lets him go. She'll go to Hogwarts personally if he doesn't take the train, he's certain. And there's a sliver, a tiny beacon of hope. Maybe she'll forgive him. Maybe she won't be so mad and he'll still have a home.
If he stays, it's over.
If he goes, there's a chance.
So it's not really a choice, is it?
Jason catches onto his weird mood, of course. He notices his vacant stares at meals and his lacklustre performance on their night flights. It's not hard to put two and two together and James isn't actually an idiot, regardless of their bickering. So he asks, like the caring, secret boyfriend he is. He asks if Regulus is okay, if he wants to talk. If something is bothering him. And Regulus finds it harder and harder to lie.
Until it's the first day of spring break.
Regulus has a train to catch, but he lies and tells James he'll just go see Dorcas off. So James doesn't think anything of it when he spots Regulus on the platform and he never notices that he slips onto the train.
Dorcas doesn't like his idea, at all, and she's way more vocal about it.
"You can still jump out of the train, you know?" She says, sitting across him with her arms crossed "This is stupid. She'll skin you alive, or make soup out of you like a stereotypical witch."
"Dorcas, it's fine."
"I'm sure she's secretly green or something-"
"Dorcas." He interrupts and she looks at him, tears gathering in her eyes "I'll be okay. I'll write to you as soon as I get there."
She nods, unconvinced, and blinks quickly.
"I just really don't want this to be the last time I see you."
And then he has an armful of Dorcas, practically in his lap. He holds her, scrunches his eyes shut and breathes in the lingering scent of her shampoo.
They don't really talk the rest of the way. There isn't much to say. Dorcas is the only one who realises the severity of what might happen.
Regulus manages to fall asleep at some point. It's a light sleep, but Dorcas has stayed by his side and it passes the time until they're in London. They hug for a long time before Dorcas deems him ready to leave. He pretends he doesn't see her wipe the corners of her eyes.
It's just his luck that, just as they pull into the station and he walks towards the door, there's a soft sound behind him.
James.
Regulus turns despite himself. He's too weak to walk away, not when he has a chance to say goodbye. He can see his brother and Lupin behind James, unaware of what's happening and confused about why he stopped.
This is his last chance. This may be the last time they see each other.
Regulus closes the distance between them in a few quick steps and kisses James. It's barely a press of their lips, chaste and over entirely too soon.
"I'm sorry." He whispers against James' cheek.
And he leaves.
His mother's already waiting. He thinks he hears his name being called – or maybe he doesn't. His head is static as her hand closes around his wrist and then they're gone.
Mother doesn't say anything.
Regulus expects her to start screaming the moment they arrive, but she just stares. She looks at him with disgust usually reserved for scum. For muggles. And she just stares.
He doesn't know what to do. He's at a loss, standing in front of the staircase, waiting for her to make the first move.
Maybe she's debating whether to kill him on the spot or drag it out over the course of the week. Maybe she'll send him back to school half dead again and let his friends pick up the pieces. Maybe his punishment has already begun and he just doesn't know.
Her voice slices through the silence like a blade.
"Do you know what the Unforgivables are, Regulus?"
He feels his blood freeze in his veins. He nods, barely a twitch of his head.
"Speak up."
"Yes, Mother." He controls his voice. She'll know if he slips up.
"I find them entirely too primitive." She twirls her wand in her hand. Her nails are painted a deep plum colour. "Don't you agree, Regulus?"
"Yes, Mother."
"They're just so simple. The Cruciatus, especially. There are so many ways to cause pain. To instil fear. Why must one restrict oneself to a single spell?"
"I don't know, Mother."
She chuckles, a horrible grating sound, like nails on a chalkboard.
"Do you know how many bones there are in a human body?"
"No, Mother."
"How about an arm?"
Regulus shakes his head, failing to suppress the trembling of his body.
"Exactly thirty." She points her wand at his left arm. "We don't have all day."
He raises his arm slowly. He can't keep it still.
"Let's count."
He doesn't scream when his little finger snaps. A horrified whine is stuck in his throat, but he doesn't let it out. Then it snaps again, in a different place, and he has to bite his tongue.
Then it snaps again.
"That's how many?"
"T-three." He manages.
Ring finger. Three snaps.
"How many, Regulus? Don't make me wait."
"Six." He whispers, the pain radiating to his whole palm. He can't look at his hand.
Middle finger. Three snaps.
"Nine."
Index finger. Three snaps.
"T-twelve."
His legs are about to give out. His hand is in white hot pain.
Thumb. Just two snaps.
"Regulus."
"Four- Fourteen."
"Good boy."
He wants to retch.
She keeps going.
There's a snap in his palm. And another. And another. They wretch horrible, pained whines out of his throat. Another snap. One more. And again. And again.
"You're not counting." She tuts.
He doesn't know how many bones she's broken. All he knows is pain.
"T-twenty?"
"Wrong." Another snap and he falls to his knees. "That's twenty two."
He chokes out the numbers. Twenty three. He's on the ground, arm stretched before him. He doesn't look. Twenty four. He's twitching, delirious from pain. Twenty five. He opens his eyes to his hand twisted and mangled like a grotesque sculpture, fingers sticking in all the wrong directions. Twenty six. He throws up in his mouth and swallows it.
Twenty seven.
"That's your palm finished." Walburga pokes it with her wand, a single touch making Regulus howl in pain.
And then his forearm is on fire.
He doesn't know which hurts more – his palm or his forearm. All he knows is that he hurts and that it's number twenty eight.
Another snap in his forearm. The sound reverberates in his skull even as he screams.
Twenty nine.
He wishes he could pass out. He wishes she'd killed him to begin with.
The bone in his upper arm breaks and his sanity goes with it. He's crying, every shake of his chest just hurting him more.
Thirty.
She looks at him, splayed out on the floor. His arm is all twisted, bones sticking out from under his skin.
"I warned you."
She stares, grey eyes meeting his.
"And the funny thing is, had you stayed with your blood traitor friends and removed yourself from my life, I would have let you go."
She walks away. Her heels click on the hardwood floor.
Regulus wants to die. He wants her to finish the job.
He doesn't know how long he lays on the floor. The concept of time eludes him – he can't think straight through the pain. The blistering, stabbing and omnipresent pain. He can't even breathe without a flare of agony overtaking his battered body. Every twitch of his muscles is a new wave of pain. He can't think, he can't breathe but he knows he has to leave. He has to go before she comes back and makes him count to sixty.
He doesn't want to die like this. Not laying down on the floor, pained and hurting. Not by his mother's hand and because of his own stupidity. He needs to go. He needs to see James again, to apologise. He still has so many Wednesdays left. The weather's been getting warmer and Regulus has been thinking of laying down in the grass and carding his fingers through James' hair. He wants to know how it feels. And if he gives up, he never will.
It would make his friends sad.
But Regulus can't even fathom standing up now. All he can do is lay there and breathe through his teeth while he weighs his options.
The front door is right behind him, taunting. He could crawl through it and leave, but where could he go in the state he's in? He can't move, he can't even raise his left arm without hot white pain shooting up his body. He needs to get to the floo and choose a place where he'll be safe. Somewhere his mother won't follow.
That doesn't leave many options.
Dorcas is immediately out. Her fireplace isn't even connected to the floo network. Evan's and Barty's houses are not safe. Pandora– Regulus isn't about to do this to Pandora.
Narcissa lives at Malfoy Manor right now. He's certain the floo will be unlocked and he'll get through. But as much as he wants to trust his cousin, Narcissa has never once rebelled in her life. She was always her father's perfect princess and now she's the perfect wife. Her breaking out of the mould to help him is a gamble he's not willing to risk.
There's Andromeda. The floo connection may be blocked, from either side, but Regulus doesn't think his mother would care about her enough to worry about the floo. He has to take a chance on Andromeda not blocking the only connection left between her old, bigoted family and her muggleborn husband and small child.
If he manages to get through – the if being the biggest issue – Regulus is certain she'll help.
His only other resort is the Potters.
He just lied to James' face. He just looked him in the eyes, promised he wasn't going back, and then broke his word. He can't do this to James. He can't make his fears come true and appear half dead in his living room.
Andromeda's it is.
Regulus firmly doesn't think about all the other reasons this plan may fail. He doesn't even consider the idea that her floo is simply disconnected, or she doesn't own a fireplace at all. Or that she moved from the address she slipped in his pocket nearly five years ago.
He doesn't remember most of the way to the fireplace.
It's excruciatingly slow. He stands up, swaying on his legs and his arm screaming in pain. He can't take a single step without jostling his broken bones. It takes him what feels like years to walk the distance, one careful step at a time. He clutches his broken arm to his chest, jaw clenched and tongue bitten, praying his mother doesn't come. His breath comes in shaking bursts, pained whimpers escaping his throat no matter how hard he tries to keep quiet.
When he makes it to the fireplace, his arm is on fire. Reaching up to take the powder feels monumental. Dark spots dance across his vision and he mumbles Andromeda's address and throws the powder, waiting for the tell tale pulsing of the green fire.
It doesn't come.
He can't go through.
His chest shakes with a desperate sob, sending a fresh wave of agony through his battered arm.
Regulus doesn't have a choice. He says the Potter's address, which has been ingrained in his memory since the day Sirius left. The emerald fire shimmers invitingly and he steps through, freefalling through space.
There's no scenario where he stays upright any second longer. He collapses, his arm dragging behind him and screeching in pain. Regulus blacks out before his body even hits the floor.
He wakes up to absolute and never ending pain.
Somewhere in the back of his head he recognises the feeling of a waking spell. It shocks and jostles his broken body until he's heaving, eyes blurry with tears.
Someone's asking him things. There are hands, touching him, and someone's holding his head. A cold, shimmering feeling of a diagnostic spell slides across his body, his arm lighting up in red so bright he can see it from behind his closed eyelids.
"... it can't just be his arm." He hears Sirius' voice from somewhere above him, muted like he's underwater "He's had broken bones before and he's handled it, fucking look at him!"
He sounds hysterical. It would make Regulus laugh if he wasn't delirious with pain.
"How many breaks?" Another voice asks, one he doesn't recognise.
"Effie…" Everyone waits with bated breaths and Regulus wonders what they woke him up for. He would have preferred to sleep through this. "All of them."
"Thirty." Regulus whispers, his throat protesting.
"Shh, don't speak, sweetie." A woman cards her hands through his hair. "We need you to take a potion, hold on just a minute."
"It was thirty." He goes on, head swimming "I counted."
He doesn't like the silence that falls around them. He doesn't like it at all.
A glass vial is pressed to his lips. He has half the mind to turn away, but the woman's hands are still gently and sternly holding his face. He doesn't want to feel her fingernails dig into his skin again. He drinks.
It's a pain relief potion.
Regulus makes a sound that he can only describe as pitiful.
There's another one before the aftertaste has a chance to be gone. This one tastes like spoiled milk and sugar – it's Skelegro, and it burns on the way down.
"Now."
There's a sharp inhale somewhere above him, a tingling of magic, and then all of his bones snap back into place at once.
His throat hurts but all he can hear is static.
He passes out before he's even done screaming.
The first thing he knows is that he's thirsty.
Everything's dry, from his face to his throat and mouth. His mind feels groggy and he recognises the haze of a pain potion that makes his vision swim as he finally tries opening his eyes.
It's too bright. And the whole room is orange and green. Like a tangerine.
There's a massive, black, furry dog on the bed.
"Wha-" Regulus has to clear his throat a good three times just to finish saying "What the fuck?" in a pained whisper.
One of the dog's ears twitches and it tilts its head to the side before jumping off the bed and turning into his brother.
"Reggie." Sirius stares at him and Regulus allows himself to stare back. His hair is longer than ever, falling down his shoulders in loose curls. He looks tired, but healthier than he ever did in that house.
"Hi."
Sirius opens his mouth, fiddles with the ring on his middle finger and shakes his head.
"I'll get Effie. Wait here."
It's not like Regulus was planning on going anywhere. Now that he's more or less awake, he can see that someone has actually tucked him in under clean, beige sheets. There's a pattern of daisies on his bedding. He raises the sheets with his healthy hand, sucking in a breath in anticipation of what his left arm looks like.
There's a splint and a cast. He closes his eyes for just a second and immediately remembers the way his broken bones stuck out through his skin in all the wrong places. He stares at the daisies instead.
"Hi, sweetie." There's a woman in the doorway and Regulus vaguely recognises her voice "I need to check up on you, if that's okay?"
Regulus nods. He doesn't see how he could refuse. He's in her house, injured and drugged. He doesn't even know where his wand is, if it's still in one of his pockets or on the floor of Grimmauld Place.
He realises he's no longer wearing his own clothes. Someone must have undressed him while he was passed out. His stomach turns painfully.
"I'll just cast a diagnostic spell to see if there's any lingering injury we missed. Fleamont did what he could for your hand, but we didn't want to risk and interrupt the healing process to wake you up and check further." She telegraphs her moves, raising her wand slowly and only coming as close as necessary. Regulus still flinches. The spell tingles all over his boy and flashes in colours he can't interpret. Nothing shines in red, though, and he remembers that part vividly. Effie tuts under her breath and taps her fingers on her thigh. "Do you want me to be honest with you?"
What kind of question is that? Regulus nods, pushing his hand down against the mattress to hide the way it shakes.
"You're malnourished, but not badly. Your hand is as fine as it can be. They were all clean breaks and they're healing nicely."
"How long…?" Regulus finds his voice, looking down at his covered knees.
"Your hand?" When she receives a nod, Effie says "A few days. Nothing Skelegro can't fix, but with the amount of breaks, all concentrated in your palm, we worried about your hand fusing wrong. That's why we kept it in a cast and let you sleep it off for two days." Effie crouches down and puts a loose strand of brown hair back behind her ear "I'm going to be frank, Regulus. The damage done to your hand was… severe. We can't be certain, but I also don't want you to bring your hopes up for nothing. It might never completely heal. You'll have to build back your range of movement and help it heal by doing some exercises. It may also ache, even after it's long healed. I'm not saying this to scare you, but to prepare you. You went through a lot. From what I understand you're right handed?" Regulus nods minutely. "Then it shouldn't impact your life that much. I believe you'll be okay if you take care of yourself in the future."
"But…" He swallows, closing his eyes, ashamed when he feels tears on his eyelashes "Quidditch?"
Effie doesn't say anything. It's all the confirmation he needs. An ugly sob wretches out of his throat and he blames the drugs for the way he can't contain it. He hides his face in his knees, his left arm hanging uselessly across his chest.
"Do you want me to get someone?" He flinches at the sound of her voice, but nods his head "Sirius? James?"
"James." Regulus croaks out. His face feels too hot and too wet and the mix of crying and potions makes him feel a combination of dizzy and drowsy. He knows he's being pathetic, he really does, but he can't stop. And when familiar arms wrap around him, ever so gentle and caring, he only cries harder. Quietly, just like his mother taught him, but with deep, guttural sobs that shake his whole frame. And Regulus hates this. He hates how weak he feels, that James has to comfort him and hold him again. He hates that he did the one thing he promised himself he wouldn't.
"I'm sorry." He gasps out into his knees breathlessly "I'm sorry, I'm so so-"
"Stop, hey." James interrupts him and squeezes his arm "You have nothing to be sorry about."
"I lied to you." Regulus catches his breath and for once finds the strength to raise his head and look James in the eye "I let you believe I would stay. I knew I couldn't. And then I kissed you on the train because I couldn't leave without saying goodbye and it was cruel-"
"Regulus, I'm not mad." James interrupts him again "I don't care that you lied, I'm just glad you're alive."
"You can't just say that." Regulus shakes his head and wipes his wet cheeks with the sleeve of the oversized shirt someone's put him in.
"Course I can." James reaches out and brushes Regulus' overgrown hair away from his face "I refuse to be mad at you after I barely got you back."
"I'm still sorry." Regulus leans his head back against the wall with a thud.
"And it's still okay." James catches his healthy hand and intertwines their fingers "How are you feeling?"
"Drowsy." Regulus shrugs. "Better than the last time I was awake."
"Sorry about that." James frowns guiltily "I hated seeing you in so much pain."
"I'm better now." He looks away "Your mom explained everything before I… Well."
"This is not how I imagined the two of you meeting." It's ridiculous and Regulus can't help a quiet laugh "This is not how you introduce a boyfriend! "This is Regulus, we're dating and he just passed out in front of our fireplace" just doesn't sound right."
"You found me?" Regulus asks, a smile dying on his lips.
"Sirius was with me." James' thumb absentmindedly glides across Regulus' knuckles "It was scary, but I was just glad we were around. Merlin knows how long you'd be lying there if we weren't home."
"I'm sorry." Regulus apologises again, shaking his head before James has a chance to interrupt "I tried to get to Andromeda first because I didn't want you to see me like that but it didn't work and I had nowhere else to go."
"I'd have rather seen you, no matter how broken, than waited until the end of the break to find out if you were even alive." James leans in, their foreheads knocking together softly "But please, never make me worry like this again."
Regulus nods, their noses touching for a brief moment, and leans in to kiss him. And, oh, how he missed it.
They don't have to rush. His head is still all fuzzy, even as the potion wears off and the aching in his arm returns, and James holds him like he's something precious.
Sirius coughs loudly from the doorway and James reluctantly moves away to Regulus' disappointment.
"Can you quit snogging my brother?" He scoffs, but without the vitriol Regulus was expecting.
"We weren't snogging." James replies and rolls his eyes. He stays by Regulus' side, sitting on the edge of the bed with his arm around his back.
"Effie's orders." Sirius holds out a glass of water and passes it to Regulus, who accepts it with a thankful nod. He's been thirsty since he woke up and it's a blessing now that he's also worn himself out by all the crying.
As soon as he's done with the whole glass, Regulus asks: "Are you a dog or was I hallucinating?"
James and Sirius exchange meaningful glances that Regulus doesn't understand. They seem to have an entire conversation in their heads.
"We're animagi." Sirius explains "Me, James and Pete."
"How on earth-? Why did you even?"
"It's a long story." James says "And we can't really tell you without discussing it with the rest."
"So that's why you have those stupid nicknames. Padfoot, Prongs, Wormy, do you actually hate Peter? Because that's mean." Regulus points at James "You're a deer? That's so dumb, Jamie."
James smiles, all dopey, and Sirius fake retches.
"But why Moony? You didn't say he was an Animagus." Regulus looks at James and Sirius, back and forth, before it dawns on him "He's a…?"
"A werewolf, yes." James nods and Sirius punches his arm. "He literally figured it out!"
"And I'm figuring out you're all unregistered and did it by yourselves. Which would be impressive if it wasn't so stupid."
"I liked you better unconscious." Sirius mutters under his breath.
Regulus shows him the finger.
"We need to talk about what's going to happen." Sirius starts, looking pained. "Effie and Monty want us to discuss it by ourselves before we make a decision."
"Really?"
"They don't want to pressure you to do anything you don't want to do." James says and squeezes his hand.
"You turn seventeen in less than three weeks. We could just wait it out, but that's assuming Walburga won't be coming after you. If she does, it'll become a whole thing and Ministry officials will have to get involved because you're still underage."
"You're assuming I don't want to go back." Regulus ignores the way James' hand tightens around his.
"She broke every bone in your arm." Sirius throws his hands out. "You'd have to be insane to go back."
"She's done worse." Regulus mutters, but drops the subject "I don't think she'll try to take me back." He swallows, looking back down at the daisies on the sheets. "She told me that… If I hadn't come back home from Hogwarts, she would have just let me go. She doesn't care anymore."
"That's not what the letter said." James says. At Sirius' questioning glance, he continues "She said she expected him home, and that she already warned him once."
"She warned you about what?" Sirius asks and Regulus sighs.
"You know she never says anything outright."
"And we both always know exactly what she means. Regulus, what was it?"
"She said that I wasn't replaceable." He bites out.
"That was before the letter?" James asks, concern evident in his voice. Regulus only nods.
"What I'm getting at here is that she threatened she'd kill you, in so many words, and you decided to go back? And you said she's done worse? What the fuck, Reggie?"
"You know exactly what happens when she's angry. You lived it, Sirius. How are you surprised?"
"You were always her favourite!" Sirius rubs his hand on his face and closes his eyes for a second. "I thought she would leave you alone if I wasn't there to piss her off. And you kept running away from me when I tried to talk."
"Because she heard a rumour that I was associating with you and decided to hurt me. Just a rumour, Sirius. I starved for two fucking weeks because of a made up rumour that reached her ears, what do you think she'd do if someone actually saw us talk?"
"Was that over Christmas?" James asks, his voice wobbly. Regulus nods and he makes a pained sound, pulling him closer against his side "That's why you looked so… Sick. And Evan and Barty kept feeding you between periods."
"Then why did you go back?" Sirius asks stubbornly, his lips pressed into a thin line, eerily like their mother.
"I thought she'd drag me there, anyway. This way I had a chance. I thought she would forgive me if I was sorry enough." Regulus shrugs and looks away. "Obviously I was stupid."
"That's what she wanted you to believe." Sirius shakes his head "She would have dragged you back there. She was just trying to gaslight you into thinking it was your fault."
Regulus isn't sure he agrees, but he nods anyway.
"What do you want to do?" James asks, brushing strands of hair out of Regulus' face again.
"You two are disgusting." Sirius mutters, which Regulus ignores.
"Do you think she'll actually leave me alone?" He asks no one in particular.
Sirius shrugs, but his mouth twists like it always did when he was worried about something.
"What happens if she presses charges and tries to get him back?" James asks.
"From what Effie told me, with his medical history, my testimony and our memories, she'd have no chance of winning. Not even her hold over half the Wizengamot would be enough for people to ignore the evidence."
"It would be stupid of her to even try."
"Exactly. But if she did, we would have to go through the whole trial. Regulus would have to tell over thirty people about what happened during both breaks and probably more. Our friends would get called in as witnesses with their guardians. It would end up in the papers." Sirius rubs his face again, looking at Regulus with the eyes of an old man. He's being uncharacteristically mature and Regulus thinks it really doesn't suit him.
"But it would be an embarrassment for her, too." He adds "The last thing she wants is for the public to find out about her… unconventional parenting methods. Otherwise she wouldn't have cared enough to glamour me after winter break."
"That's why Dorcas asked Moony to come with her on the train?" Sirius asks.
"He didn't tell you?"
"He's gotten into the habit of doing that." Sirius glares at James, who winces.
"Mother put a disillusionment spell on me on the last day of break. It felt… Gross." Regulus shudders at the memory "I think she expected me to be thankful, not that I'd want it off."
"So there's a big chance she won't come after you." Sirius summarises "Do you want to risk it?"
Despite the paralysing fear and anxiety swirling in his gut, Regulus says yes.
Regulus stays at the Potter's.
He finds out the room he's been staying in is actually James', which makes perfect sense. Once he isn't preoccupied with writing letters to his friends, telling them he's alive and out of Walburga's clutches, or trying to act normal in the presence of James' parents, he watches the room. The Quidditch posters are the first dead giveaway. Shockingly, James has a bookcase too, mostly full of adventure novels and his old textbooks. His desk is cluttered with muggle pens, magic quills and pieces of parchment, along with some of Zonko's merchandise that Regulus won't be touching, even with a stick.
Logically, Regulus knows James' parents are good people. Sirius wouldn't be staying with them if they weren't and James clearly loves them more than anything in the world. But he still can't shake the anxiety (at best) and terror (at worst) he feels when he's left alone in a room with either of them. He can't avoid them, especially when Effie comes back to check up on his arm, but he does try.
He's hiding outside when James finds him. Potter Manor is ridiculously big, especially compared to Grimmauld, which despite its many rooms is a quite narrow house. Their property stretches past the horizon, which Regulus thinks is a little excessive. And they have an honest to Circe Quidditch pitch. Smaller than the one at Hogwarts, but a pitch nonetheless.
It's already dark by the time James joins him and plops down on the ground next to him.
"This is familiar." He turns his head towards Regulus, who hums and doesn't take his eyes off the stars. The sky is clear and he can see Sirius and Regulus shining in their respective constellations. "Are you okay?"
Regulus shrugs, wincing when it hurts his healing arm. He's been weaned off of potions as his bones finish mending and it's not the most pleasant experience in the world.
"I'll miss the Gryffindor and Slytherin match."
James frowns, reaches out and puts a stray lock of hair behind Regulus' ear.
"I'm sorry." He says, his hand staying there and Regulus unconsciously leaning into the contact "You've got the whole seventh year to play, though."
Regulus' face falls and he squeezes his eyes shut.
"I don't." He manages, finally looking at James. "Not with you."
"We can always play at home-"
"We can't." Regulus breathes out shakily "I can't."
"What do you mean?" James is looking at him so earnestly and caringly that Regulus can't take it. He turns away.
"Effie said I might never get on a broom again." He sniffs, willing his shoulders not to shake. "And even if I do, it'll never be the same." He sits there, stewing in the silence before adding in a soft whisper "She broke me beyond repair, Jamie."
"That's not true." James shuffles closer and gently pulls him back towards himself "She didn't break you and you're not beyond repair." He promises "We'll do everything to help you heal, alright? I'll write letters to every professional player I know and ask for tips until they all get sick of me and reply. And even if it doesn't work-" Regulus closes his eyes with a pained sigh "-you'll still be my Regulus. We'll find you something that makes you feel as good as flying does. We'll try everything and you'll have fifteen different hobbies and I'll make an idiot out of myself trying every single one of them."
"I don't understand." Regulus whispers after a moment of silence. "I don't understand why you care. I still don't."
James thinks, looking at him with that barely noticeable, soft smile of his.
"Why do you care about me, Regulus?" He asks.
"Because you're you." Regulus answers like it's obvious. "I don't think I could ever stop."
"There you have it, then." James kisses the corner of his mouth. Regulus looks at him, a smile creeping onto his face, and leans in to kiss him properly, pulling him down by his collar.
They sleep in the same bed. The door stays open, by the orders of James' parents, but Regulus doesn't mind as much as he is embarrassed. It's not a secret that they're together, but no one mentions it except Sirius, who still fakes gagging whenever they even look at each other in his company.
They're going back to Hogwarts in two days when Regulus gets three consecutive letters from his friends.
He opens Pandora's first, a Ravena Ravenclaw card falling out of the envelope and blinking at him calmly.
Dear Regulus,
I'm so glad you're safe. I've been very worried about you, I always am, but I know you get enough of that from Evan and Dorcas. So I'm only saying this once. When Dorcas told me you promised to write and hadn't, I was beyond myself with worry.
I finally finished "Frankenstein". You're right, it was a very good book, but I'm not sure it's exactly to my taste. I'm sure you'll find me something else to read! Maybe something happier? We'll discuss it once you're back, since I'm sure you have a lot to say.
My holidays haven't been eventful. I stayed at Hogwarts like I said I would and I've been keeping Evan and Barty company. Not much has happened here beyond an Easter party in the Hufflepuff common room, so I'll save the gossip for later.
Please get back to me as soon as you get this. How are the Potters? Have you told Sirius about you and James yet? How's your arm?
Yours,
Pandora.
PS. I think all my Chocolate Frogs are cursed. Keep it for good luck.
Regulus doesn't pretend to know how Pandora found out about him and James. He opens Dorcas' letter next.
Dear Regulus,
I'm so mad at you, you can't even imagine. I TOLD YOU! I'm happy you're safe but if you ever pull this shit again I'll personally curse you to never be able to leave Hogwarts.
We finally finished repainting my room this time. I'll invite you over during the summer, so you'll see it for yourself. There's also a new movie playing in the cinema that I'd like you to see, so consider yourself invited. It's about space and light swords and it looks really cool. I'm sure it'll blow your tiny pureblood mind.
What are you doing about your Mother? Are you still safe? How are James and Sirius?
Write back soon, or else.
Love,
Dorcas.
Evan and Barty's letter is last.
Dear Regulus,
Hogwarts is exactly the same. The Hufflepuff party was a bit lame, but fun, we've finished our Potions essays and we miss you. The dorm is empty without you and Tobias is, as usual, gone. Barty's being an ass but don't tell him that. He trusts me to write this whole letter and he won't bother to actually read it.
We're sorry you had to go through that. I know it doesn't change much, but I wish I could take your pain away.
Are James and his parents treating you well? I know a few nasty curses if they aren't.
See you back at Hogwarts.
Evan and Barty.
PS. I'm still sorry about kissing you. I shouldn't have, Dorcas already informed me all about consent and boundaries, which I should have known already, and that social clues don't work when you're as thick as me. Her words. I'm sorry. I hope you forgive me. Please tell Potter to refrain from murdering me when you get back.
I miss you.
Yours, Evan.
Regulus sighs when he finishes reading Evan's note. He already forgave him weeks ago. He feels awful about neglecting their friendship enough for him to doubt it.
He writes down his replies in fifteen minutes flat and sends them out using Potter's family owl. Effie gave him permission, but he still feels self conscious using it. He gives her too many snacks to make up for it.
Regulus practically jumps when there's a knock behind him. He turns around and tries to act normal when he sees James' father (Monty, apparently) standing there with a letter in hand.
"I'm so sorry- I just sent her out, I didn't realise-" He panics, desperately looking around the room without a way out.
"Son, it's fine." Fleamont interrupts, putting his letter down on top of the table. "I didn't want to spook you, I'm not mad. It can wait."
Regulus doesn't believe that, not at all, but he nods his head. Neither of them moves. Fleamont clears his throat awkwardly.
"I'll leave you be." He smiles kindly and leaves. Regulus slumps with relief the moment the doorway is clear and he isn't blocking the exit.
And then he feels stupid.
He was supposed to at least try and make James' parents like him. His boyfriend's parents, for Merlin's sake. And all he accomplished was using them, putting them in danger and then being unthankful about it.
Regulus beelines to James' room and doesn't come out for the rest of the day, convinced they hate him. James is out with Sirius doing who knows what, so Regulus picks up one of his adventure novels and starts reading. It's dog eared and battered to the point Regulus is sure it must have been literally thrown at some point and the plot is silly, but he enjoys it. It's not the literature he's used to, but he finds it interesting enough. He guesses most of the plot twist and then smiles to himself when it turns out he was correct.
When James comes back in the evening, Regulus is finishing up his second book of the day. James throws himself on the bed next to him and kisses his cheek repeatedly until Regulus puts the book down and gives him attention.
"Did you like it?" He points at the colourful, kitschy cover. There's a boy, a tiger and a magic sword surrounded by a jungle on the paperback.
"It passed the time."
"How was dinner? I know we left you alone but Sirius has been talking about going to Zonko's on Diagon for weeks now and it's not safe for you to go out yet." James kisses his cheek again in lieu of apology.
Regulus winces.
"I didn't go? I'm sorry."
"Do you want to tell me why?" James asks, perfectly understanding, and Regulus wonders what on earth James sees in him for the hundredth time.
"I got in my own head that your dad was mad at me and I stayed in your room all day. I forgot I was supposed to go down at all, I'm sorry." He buries his face in James' shoulder and groans "They hate me." He mumbles into his boyfriend's shoulder.
"Regulus, I'm one hundred percent sure they don't." James' chest shakes when he laughs "They literally gave me a shovel talk about you."
"What?" Regulus looks up to see if James is joking. To his utter horror, he's not.
"They were very worried about you. You arrived in a state and Sirius had told them about some of the things your mother used to do." James shrugs "Can you blame them for being protective of you after all that? And besides, if they didn't come get you, they probably thought you wanted to be alone. You said dad spooked you?"
"He didn't even do anything." Regulus mumbles, cheeks burning from embarrassment. "I replied to the letters and hogged your owl. Then he came into the room and we were alone and I thought he'd get angry and he was blocking the door so I panicked. And he left. He was very nice about it."
"I'm sure he's not mad. Just worried. My dad doesn't have a mean bone in his body." James smiles, kisses him quickly and adds "Are you hungry?"
Truthfully, Regulus isn't. But he knows he should eat, so he nods and they make their way to the kitchen, holding hands the entire time.
"The quickest thing I can make is a cheese toastie." James announces after checking the contents of their fridge.
"Sounds great." Regulus promises at one of the stools by the island. He stares unashamedly as James makes him food, warmth pooling in his stomach.
"How domestic." Sirius enters the kitchen, ruining the moment and making Regulus groan.
"Want one?" James asks.
"Sure." Sirius sits down next to Regulus, dragging his stool across the tiles. "Reggie."
Regulus rolls his eyes.
"Sirius."
"How's your arm?" His brother asks genuinely and Regulus forgets to be annoyed with him just for a second.
The cast is coming off tomorrow. It aches all the time, but it's bearable, he's endured worse. Truth be told, he's scared to see what his hand looks like, bare. He can't keep the image of his twisted fingers out of his mind.
"It's fine." He replies, shuffling his feet.
James puts a plate of grilled cheese in front of him and Regulus nods, smiling thankfully. Sirius and James keep prattling on about a letter from Lupin and he half listens, staring at the table and nibbling on his toast. It tastes fine. James isn't as talented in burning the kitchen as Sirius is according to Effie's stories, but Regulus still can't really stomach it. He eats half of it and then plays with the edge of James' sweater, so big on him that the sleeves cover half his palm.
"You're not gonna eat that?" James asks as his conversation with Sirius lulls. Regulus shakes his head, momentarily panicking that James will be mad at him for wasting food. "Mind if I finish it for you?"
So James finishes his half eaten toast and doesn't mention it. Sirius scowls, but it's more likely to do with their "disgusting domesticity" than Regulus' eating habits.
Regulus reminds himself that everything's fine.
Taking off the cast is an awful experience.
Thanks to the Skelegro his bones are more or less mended now. They still ache, which Effie says is normal and Regulus silently doubts. She lets him take off the sling and then cuts the cast off with the tip of her wand. Regulus squeezes James' hand so hard he starts to wince by the time she gets to his palm. It's mostly out of pain. But partly, it's out of fear that his fingers are still crooked in all the wrong places, unnatural and wrong.
They look normal.
They're pale, thin and his skin is awfully dry. But when he curls his fingers they behave like they're supposed to, minus the minute ache that comes with it. He's so relieved he could cry.
"Now, sweetie, you'll need to take good care of your hand. I'll show you some exercises later and we'll have to contact Poppy and ask her for weekly check ups when you go back to school." She explains with a calm voice and Regulus nods, eyes still fixated on his hand "You can't overstrain yourself. It's important that you don't try to lift heavy objects or grab anything too tightly. The bones in your palm and wrist are especially delicate and may heal crookedly if you overuse them in the coming weeks. Pain is to be expected-" James squeezes his hand back in support "-but don't try to deal with it all on your own. You can ask for pain potions and ointments at any time. It's okay to ask for help."
Regulus severely doubts that, but he still nods. He stretches out his hand experimentally, expression steady even as pain shoots up his arm and his muscles start to tremble. Fixated on the blue veins showing up on the pale skin, he doesn't register that James is speaking to him until he firmly but gently catches his injured hand.
"You okay?" James asks and Regulus trembles. His hand is so warm on his own, thumb caressing his knuckles. Regulus looks away from the contrast of their fingers woven together, grimly white against sunkissed brown, and looks into James' eyes.
"Good." He kisses James on the cheek, ignoring the burning on his face, neck and ears. Effie's still in the room but she vanishes the remains of the cast and leaves, closing the door halfway with a very noticeable smile on her face.
"Does it hurt?" James nods down, towards his arm, and Regulus shrugs.
"I've had worse."
This isn't the best thing to say and James' smile drops considerably. So Regulus does the only logical thing: kisses his boyfriend again and again until he's thoroughly cheered up.
Coming back to Hogwarts is easy.
Dorcas practically jumps on Regulus on King's cross, jostling his hand and nearly making them topple to the ground if not for James' quick reflexes. She sits with them and the rest of James' and Sirius' friends the whole way, enjoying having her best friend and her girlfriend, Marlene, in the same place for once. Nobody asks stupid questions, not even when James takes his bad hand in his and puts gentle pressure on all the places that hurt the most. At one point Sirius hands Regulus a granola bar, having noticed that he left half his breakfast untouched.
Pandora, Evan and Barty are waiting for them in Hogsmeade, bundled up into jumpers. It's a cold, wet Scottish spring, the path to the castle as muddy as it gets. After hugging each of his friends for a solid five minutes, Regulus pulls Evan aside and waits until the rest of the group overtakes them. James sends him a funny look but trudges on, nearly slipping on all the mud.
"I wanted to talk." Regulus starts, but Evan butts in before he has a chance to finish.
"We figured out who snitched." He says in a hushed voice. "Tobias. Our fucking roommate."
Regulus opens his mouth, then closes it quickly. He thinks, a frown settling over his features.
"How do you know?" He asks before making any assumptions.
"We caught him eavesdropping. It was nothing important, just me and Barty… figuring things out. We wanted to make sure he didn't tell anyone, roughed him up a bit, and he admitted to everything." Evan sighs, looking away from Regulus. "He told us everything. He thought we were interrogating him about you and your mother when we were only trying to scare him into keeping what he heard to himself. All the times he was gone, sleeping or just reading behind closed curtains with a supposed silencing spell on, he was listening and then reporting to Walburga for a price."
Regulus closes his eyes when they start to burn.
He wasn't safe anywhere. Not in Hogwarts, not in his own dorm.
"Fuck." He breathes out harshly "Fuck, how could I be so stupid?"
"Regulus, what?" Evan grabs his arm, the bad one, and Regulus flinches away like he's been burned. "Sorry- It wasn't your fault. Listen to me, none of us knew." He reaches out again, but gentler. Regulus tries to focus on the smell of his stupid perfume and lets him hold his forearm. The healthy one, this time. "You couldn't know, not with the way he hid himself. I mean, we barely remembered we had a fourth roommate half the time. And he won't be babbling anymore, that's for sure."
"What? What'd you do?"
"When I said 'roughed him up', I meant that Barty beat the shit out him, threatened him and left him alone in some deserted corridor and then my father conveniently severed any contact with the Flint family, which has been… struggling to stay afloat, to say the least. So he won't be bothering us again. I expect he'll move dorms or start camping out in the common room by seventh year."
Regulus stares at him in pure shock. And then he hugs him so fast, Evan nearly topples to the ground.
"Thank you." He mumbles into Evan's coat "And I'm so sorry you thought I was still mad, I'm not, I'm sorry I wasn't around and-"
"It's fine." Evan interrupts, finally hugging him back "I was worried. And I should be the sorry one, I shouldn't have kissed you out of nowhere, twice in a row."
"You really shouldn't have." Regulus sighs, reluctantly moving away. The air is a biting cold and his nose is definitely a lovely shade of pink right now. "But I'm seriously not angry or resentful. Let's just forget about this. And don't mention it to James, he does his best but he keeps making a face whenever he thinks about it."
"Aww, he thinks about me?"
Regulus punches him in the arm to shut up.
"By the way, I don't have a very embarrassing crush on you." Evan admits and scrunches his nose like he does whenever he truly doesn't want to talk about something "My feelings may have been misplaced."
"Really?" Regulus lights up, curious and itching to do the interrogating for once "Who is it, then?"
"That's exactly what Tobias prematurely found out."
Regulus stares, expecting Evan to continue. And then he just gapes.
"Barty?" He manages, and that's when they catch up to the rest of the group. Barty looks up, having heard his own name, and waves.
"Don't tell anyone. I'll skin you alive." Evan threatens and Regulus is half convinced that he's serious. "Not even Potter." With that, he runs to catch up with Barty.
When James stays back and holds out his hand for Regulus to take, asking what he and Evan were talking about, Regulus only laughs and says "Nothing important".
They celebrate his seventeenth birthday in the Gryffindor common room. For some reason.
It's really beyond Regulus why they celebrate it at all, but apparently Sirius is so overjoyed to have him back and all of his friends itch for a party so badly that he doesn't have a choice but to attend. It's not bad, as far as parties go, but it's not his scene. He sneaks away, perfectly aware that James is about to follow him, after barely three hours.
He sits on the Quidditch pitch in silence, waiting for his boyfriend to show up. He wasn't drinking - his hand has been acting up and the pain potions are an actual danger to his liver if he mixes them with alcohol. But it's finally warmer, the air only chilly and not outright freezing, and he's been dreaming of sitting here with James since their last Wednesday. It's not Wednesday, not at all, but he's free to do whatever he wants. Fuck Mother. He'll snog his boyfriend in broad daylight if he chooses to do so.
The first thing he does when James plops down next to him is drag him down by the tie and kiss him. He ignores his pleasantly surprised "oh" and kisses him until they're both breathless. James tastes like sweet soda and alcohol and Regulus very reluctantly slows down to a stop. And then he lays down on the grass, dragging his boyfriend down with him.
"What's all this about?" James murmurs against his jaw, his breath hot on Regulus' skin.
"My birthday wish." Regulus shrugs, reaching out to brush his fingers through James's hair. It's soft and thick and it smells like shampoo. James himself smells a little bit like gin, but Regulus watched him the whole night and he knows that he's tipsy at worst, nearly sober at best.
"What else did you wish for?" James asks, his lips grazing Regulus' cheek. To his boyfriend's utter delight, he can't hide the shiver that goes through his body at the touch.
"If I told you it wouldn't come true." He whispers into the night. His star shines brightly above them, twinkling and shimmering in the night sky.
"Keep your secrets, then." James huffs with a laugh and kisses him again. Regulus melts into his lips, sighing softly when James' hand finds his waist and slides underneath his sweater.
He has a whole year of school to finish. He has about a million hobbies to try and watch James fail at. He has too many books to read and recommend to Pandora. He has charms to spell onto Dorcas' hair and he has Barty and Evan to annoy to death. He has friends that need him around, safe and happy. He has a brother to reconnect with and a boyfriend to thoroughly snog in empty alcoves.
Most importantly, he has a poorly written will attached to his trunk that needs burning.