The Misfortune Of Regulus Black

Regulus’s POV

There wasn’t a single moment in Regulus Black’s life when he could recall feeling complete, utter panic.

Except, well, now.

It was his own fault, really. Sirius had told him to tidy his room and pack for school before their parents returned from a business trip the next day. But it was the last day of summer, and all Regulus had wanted to do was play Quidditch and study, so when Kreacher offered to help, he let him.

Kreacher was a good house-elf, at least to Regulus. Always willing, always eager to serve. Obviously, he had to be all those things, but it felt genuine when it came to Regulus. Sirius never let him do more than assist with spells and schoolwork—claimed he could clean up after himself just fine. He couldn’t. But Sirius didn’t care much for how things were meant to be done in this house anyway.

Regulus didn’t mind chores, really, but today he hadn’t felt like doing them. Kreacher had been more than happy to handle it for him.

And now, as Regulus pushed open his bedroom door, he realised his mistake.

At first glance, everything looked fine. The floor was spotless, his trunk was packed neatly by the bed, his desk was free of its usual clutter. Kreacher had done an excellent job.

Except for one thing.

The little black box sitting open on his desk.

Regulus froze. His stomach lurched.

No. No, no, no—

He stepped forward stiffly, as if moving too quickly might make it worse. Then he stared down at the one thing that he always feared the most. The box, completely empty. 

Blood drained from his face. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, slipping from their grip on the desk.

“Kreacher,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Then, louder, more desperate, “Kreacher!”

With a quiet pop, the elf appeared beside him. His stern face softened for a millisecond before returning to its usual unreadable expression.

“How can Kreacher help, Master Regulus?”

Regulus swallowed. He could barely get the words out. “Kreacher, there was a letter in this box.” He motioned faintly to the empty space before him. “Did you…”

Kreacher tilted his head, as if waiting for Regulus to finish. When he didn’t, the elf gave a small nod.

“Kreacher found that box under Master Regulus’s bed. The letter was sealed, so Kreacher has already sent it out,” he said simply. “Was Kreacher not meant to? Did Master Regulus intend to deliver it personally?” 

Regulus felt like he’d been hexed. His mind blanked, his vision started swimming and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. 

The letter.

The letter was gone.

His letter.

His most private, unfiltered thoughts—some stupid confession written in a single moment of weakness, never meant to be read—were now out in the world.

He barely registered his own voice as he muttered, “No, it’s fine. Thank you, Kreacher. You can go now.”

With another nod, Kreacher snapped his fingers and vanished. Regulus sat down heavily on the bed, then pitched forward, burying his face in his hands.

One letters. Just one. But it was enough to ruin his entire life.

•••

When morning came, Regulus was still on edge. He barely touched his breakfast, his hands fidgeting in his lap as Sirius ate across from him, blissfully unaware of his impending doom.

Then, a sharp knock at the kitchen window.

An owl.

Regulus knew that owl.

His chair scraped against the floor as he shot up. Sirius moved to get it, but Regulus was faster, snatching the letter from the owl’s leg before his brother could see anything.

He didn’t wait for questions. “I forgot something upstairs,” he said quickly, already halfway up the stairs. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

As soon as he reached his room, he locked the door and sat on his bed, the letter burning in his hands.

The envelope was blank. But inside… inside would be handwriting he knew all too well.

He tore it open and unfolded the parchment. His stomach flipped as his eyes scanned the words. He didn’t think he’d hear from him before they’d be at Hogwarts again.

Dear Regulus,

how have you been? This letter will probably reach you a little late. To be honest, I’m not even sure if it’ll reach you before you’re leaving to get the train. I’ll make it quick and easy: I want to talk. Like, seriously and actually talk to you. Evan, too. I don’t want to get all sentimental about this in a letter so I’ll just cut it out here. 

See you soon.

Sincerely,

Barty

Regulus exhaled sharply and rubbed a hand over his face. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to talk to them, it was just that he knew what they were going to say anyway. ‘We don’t want to make you uncomfortable!’ ‘If you feel weird about this, we get it.’ ‘We can keep our distance for a while so you can adjust to it.’ ‘If you had a boyfriend, I’m sure it’d be different!’ But in all honesty, it probably wouldn’t be. Other than Barty, Regulus never had a boyfriend, and he didn’t know how he was supposed to act now that they were broken up and Barty was dating Regulus’ cousin, Evan. He didn’t really care for it, hell, he even was happy for them when they figured their shit out and finally got together, but it didn’t matter how many times he told them that. They were convinced that as long as Regulus was single, he was miserable watching his two best friends as a happy couple.

But he couldn’t deal with that headache now. He glanced at the letter again before stuffing it into his right pocket, grabbing his trunk and heading downstairs.

And there, he walked straight into his mother.

Walburga Black was standing in the foyer, arms crossed, eyes sharp. Oh. She was back from her trip.

“There you are,” she said, her tone shifting instantly into something sweet. Her hands came to smooth his collar, adjusting his robes as if he were a child. “You should have been down sooner, darling. A proper Black is never late.”

Regulus didn’t respond. He kept his head down as she fussed over him, fixing his sleeves, brushing imaginary lint from his shoulder. Her fingers pressed lightly against his chin, tilting his face up to meet hers.

“My handsome boy,” she murmured, and for a moment, Regulus thought she might kiss his forehead. She didn’t. Instead, her fingers curled around his jaw, just for a second, before she pulled away. “You’ll make us proud this year, won’t you?”

He nodded.

“Of course you will.” She smoothed his hair. “Always such a good boy.”

Behind them, Sirius made a disgusted noise. “I’m leaving,” he muttered, grabbing his own trunk and heading for the door.

Walburga barely spared him a glance. “Don’t disgrace us any more than you already have,” she snapped after him.

Regulus swallowed hard.

Walburga turned back to him, her expression soft again. “Off you go, darling. Kreacher will see you to the station.”

Regulus gave a stiff nod, adjusting the strap of his bag. He forced a smile. “Goodbye, Mother.”

He didn’t wait for a reply.

This was going to be one hell of a train journey.

•••

Regulus didn’t particularly care that their parents weren’t there to bring them to the station. They weren’t children anymore; they didn’t need their parents’ protection—not that their parents had ever been particularly protective in the first place. Plus, it was a lot less stressful.

He barely heard his brother say, “Look, I’ll go to my friends. You can sit with us if you want.”

Regulus should have processed the invitation, should have realised that Sirius was trying to sound casual but was actually hoping for him to agree. He should’ve realised what a bad idea that was, considering his own situation.

But his mind was elsewhere.

A few feet away, Barty stood with Evan and Pandora, but he wasn’t paying them any attention. He was already looking at Regulus. It wasn’t just a glance—he was watching him, waiting. The moment their eyes met, Barty started to move, stepping away from the group as if he was about to come over.

That was when Sirius’s words actually, sort of, reached Regulus’s mind.

Sit with us if you want.

Regulus’s lips parted slightly. If he went with Sirius, he could avoid whatever Barty was about to say to him. It wouldn’t last forever, but it would buy him at least a little time.

“Okay,” he mumbled, halfheartedly.

Sirius seemed surprised but didn’t question it, just nodded and led the way. Regulus cast one last glance in Barty’s direction, who stopped walking now that Regulus started moving, before following.

As soon as they reached the compartment, Regulus started to doubt his decision.

Through the glass, he saw Potter, Lupin, and Pettigrew already inside, laughing at something. The sight made his stomach clench uncomfortably.

Sirius slid the door open without hesitation. Regulus followed, moving like a shadow behind him.

“Pads!” James practically yelped in excitement, jumping up to throw his arms around Sirius.

Regulus stiffened. Not because of the hug itself—James and Sirius were always like that—but because of what happened next.

As James buried his face in Sirius’s shoulder, he opened his eyes again. And he looked straight at Regulus.

It was only a second, but something about it unsettled him.

Then James pulled back, almost too quickly, as if he’d just remembered something. He stumbled slightly, caught himself, and—was he nervous?

“Hi,” James said, quieter than usual.

Regulus just grumbled a low “hello” in return.

He stepped inside properly, giving the others a quick nod as Sirius threw himself into the seat beside Lupin. The shift in atmosphere was quite literally impossible to ignore.

Regulus felt it. And he knew exactly why.

His eyes flicked to James again. His expression wasn’t easy to read, which was unusual for him. James Potter was an open book, always wearing his thoughts on his face. But right now, he looked like he was about to die. 

To his relief, someone finally spoke. It was Peter. “So, Regulus. Anything interesting this summer?” He knew it was only something he asked to be polite, Regulus was fairly sure that he didn’t care about his summer, but he took the opening and ran with it. Small talk, as much as he hated it, was still better than sitting in silence, knowing full well a person here got a love letter from him.

Regulus thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Not really. Studying.” He glanced at Sirius before adding, “Not sure if he told you already, but our parents were gone most of the break, so… it was a pretty good one overall.”

Peter laughed, which took Regulus by surprise. It was odd, hearing someone actually react to something he said. His friends barely listened, and even when they did, they never really laughed.

Regulus felt something strange at that. Not quite happiness, but close. “How was yours?” he asked, to not let the conversation die down.

Peter beamed at that. “Mine wasn’t half bad either, actually. Spent most of it at my gran’s in Germany. Oh, by the way, James, she says hi.”

A scoff came from Sirius, who looked almost betrayed by Peter. “Excuse me? Just James?”

His friend grinned. “Sirius, my gran’s never actually met you. James and I have known each other for years. She loves him.” He paused, then added, “Probably more than she loves me.”

At that, James chuckled silently and Lupin added, “Wouldn’t blame her. Sirius is a menace.” 

Regulus looked back at Peter. “I didn’t know you had family in Germany,” he said. Not like he ever cared. 

“Yeah! Well, I moved here when I was a kid, hence no accent and all, but I can speak the language pretty well, and I still visit my Mum’s side of the family over there every chance I get.” Peter seemed very excited about Germany for a German person. Regulus always sort of thought they were pessimistic, under the weather sort of people. But then again, he couldn’t really measure that take on Peter, because he didn’t grow up there long enough for the pessimism to kick in.

Unfortunately, the conversation died after that.

The silence crept back in, and James’ eyes landed back on Regulus. He looked like he was about to say something to him. Out loud. In front of other people. 

Regulus needed to leave.

“I’ll—be right back,” he suddenly urged, pushing himself to his feet before anyone could ask where he was going.

He stepped out of the compartment, shut the door behind him, and walked, not stopping until he reached the train’s toilets. Once inside, he locked the door and sank onto the floor.

He was actually considering staying here until they were finally at Hogwarts, but he didn’t know when they would finally arrive at Hogwarts, and he already got sick after sitting on the floor for what must’ve been at least an half an hour. Just as he got up again and unlocked the door to get out, he saw James standing right in front of him. 

"Hi," the older boy said slightly startled, like that was a normal thing to say after lurking outside a train toilet. Was he capable of saying anything else? James smiled awkwardly.

Regulus narrowed his eyes. He didn’t trust that smile.

He shouldered past James without a word.

“Hey—Regulus?” James turned, following him. “Can we talk for a second?”

“No.” Regulus knew he sounded harsh, but what the hell was he supposed to do? He didn’t want confrontation. He didn’t ask for this. So, he didn’t slow down.

James hesitated, then—“Please.”

Regulus stopped.

Not because of the please, he couldn’t care less about anything that guy said to him, but because he was so close to laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of this entire situation.

There was James Potter. The same James Potter who spent years hexing his robes and mocking his House and acting like he was some kind of self-righteous hero. The same James Potter who was loved by everyone and who had people falling for him by the second. The same James Potter who didn’t give a fuck about Regulus a day ago and probably couldn’t have picked him out of a crowd then. And now? Now he was standing here, having the audacity looking nervous, asking Regulus to talk.

Like they were friends.

Regulus scoffed and kept walking.

James followed, undeterred. “Okay, whatever. So—I’m really flattered—”

Regulus walked faster.

James sped up as well. “And, um, what you wrote was actually pretty charming—”

Regulus saw the flash of parchment in James’s hand and immediately knew what it was.

Oh, fuck this.

He picked up his pace, but James was an athlete. He was faster, his stupid long legs making it easy to keep up. “But, uh,” James went on, his voice slightly breathless now. “You’re Sirius’s brother. And he and I are best friends, and—”

Regulus stopped so suddenly that James nearly crashed into him.

“Don’t talk to me,” he said. It came out sharper than he intended. Louder, too. A lot louder. 

So loud, in fact, that he could watch James stumble back a step or two. His mouth opened like he was about to say something else, but then he just—closed it again. “…Okay.”

That was all he said before turning and slowly walking away, the paper still clutched in his hand. 

Regulus stood there, rigid, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

He didn’t move for a while.

Didn’t breathe for a while.

His heart was hammering in his chest, though he couldn’t tell if it was from anger or humiliation or something else entirely.

He had to pull himself together. He had to go somewhere for the rest of the train ride.

But before he could decide where—

The train slowed.

Then stopped.

They were at Hogwarts.