Long Long Time

Regulus might be the dumbest person to ever walk this planet. After Barty, of course. As he sits in the great hall, eating his breakfast next to Evan, he sees James Potter smile at him like the moron he is. Regulus can’t help but groan. He tends to end up in these foolish situations. Someone out there must be praying on his downfall; he is sure of it.

This year he swore to devote all his time and attention to his schoolwork. If he gets top grades in all his classes, Walburga and Orion might let him stay at Hogwarts during the breaks (the keyword here being might). He cannot afford any distractions. Especially not this distraction. It wont only hurt him in the long run, but James too. This is destined for failure, because Regulus is destined for failure.

Regulus thinks he was born waiting. His whole life he has been waiting. Waiting for his parents to love him. Waiting for his brother to save him. Waiting to be someone. He wants, he craves, to be someone. He so desperately wishes for life. He wishes for the time he knows he will never receive. It is ludicrous for him to have hope. Yet, he has it, he is filled with it.  Hope, he thinks, is the most fatal thing there is. Nothing destroys a person like hope does. Regulus knows this better than anyone. But he is addicted to the ’if only’.

Which is why this whole…thing with James is such a terrible idea. He can’t afford more hope. But he wants, and wants, and wants. It is all he does. Want. But Regulus is destructive. Everything he comes close to ends up with irreparable damage. He does not want to be the one to kill James Potter’s light. He cannot be the one to force him to fade. He refuses to. So, to summarise, he needs to get the fuck away. Like yesterday. He never should’ve allowed this to happen in the first place. Regulus needs to be smart about this.

In the not very far away future, Regulus will take the mark. And when he does, it will all be over. He will die. This is something Regulus has come to terms with years ago. He will die fighting for a cause he does not believe in, and his death will mean nothing.

The years will pass, and the memory of the boy who never let himself be free will fade until it is nothing but a faint memory. His name will become a foreign word, his face will become nothing but a blurry memory, his body will rot, the flowers that once covered his grave will wither and die, his voice will merely be an echo of a past no longer recalled, and he will be forgotten.

“Why is James Potter staring you down?” Barty asks, his voice bringing Regulus back to reality. Barty sits across of him and has turned his body to gaze over at the Gryffindor table. Barty is not very great at being subtle.

“Turn around you oversized baby,” Regulus says, reaching for Barty and pulling him back around. “You are so fucking obvious with it,” he mutters under his breath.

“Hey, I am not the obvious one here, that would be Mr. Public Humiliation over there,” Barty replies defensively, turning back around and pointing towards the Gryffindor table this time. Oh goodness gracious, Regulus thinks.

“Can you stop that, you bellend?” Regulus says agitatedly.

“Whatever is the problem Mr. Black? I am simply stating the obvious. The obvious being that James ‘my hair is taller than me’ Potter is staring at you,” Barty says, now pointing at Regulus with a curious look in his eye. This seems to catch Evan’s interest too, who had previously been talking to his sister, Pandora.

“He isn’t Barty, just eat your fucking breakfast,” Regulus says quickly, looking down at his toast. He is not in the mood to deal with this now, but Barty is correct. James is staring, and Regulus can’t help the butterflies in his stomach. You are a sad, sad, person Regulus Black. So what if James is staring? This means nothing.

“Oh, has Barty ruffled your feathers, Reggie?” Evan joins in. Regulus is confident Crucio would be better than this. He is speaking from experience here.

“Cmon Reggie, share with the class. What have you done to James Potter?” Evan continues. Regulus rolls his eyes so hard it’s almost impressive. He has not had enough coffee for this.

“Nothing you fucking idiots,” he says before getting up from his seat. He does not have the energy for this for thing in the morning. As he starts walking away from the table, he hears Barty and Evan call after him, but he ignores them, heading straight for the exit.

Behind him he suddenly hears footsteps, and he turns around expecting it to be the two plastic plants he calls his friends. Instead, he is staring into James Potter’s stupid brown eyes. Which God did I piss off and how can I atone for my sins?

“Is your head attached to your body, Potter?” Regulus asks him, tone stern.

James blinks at him a few times, brows drawing together. “Huh?” James says, articulate as always.

“You are aware of where we are currently located, are you not?”

James turns and looks around, clearly not understanding what Regulus is trying to say. Sometimes Regulus seriously wonders if things work properly in James’s brain. He must’ve gotten dropped on his head a lot as a kid.

Shaking his head, irked, Regulus says “We are in the middle of the hallway you buffoon. Very much in public. Do I need to explain why that isn’t ideal to you as well?”

“Oh that. Well, I just wanted to…” he trails off, scratching his neck. He always does that when he gets uncomfortable, not that Regulus has been paying attention to his body language or anything.

“Why yes of course. What a wonderful and constructive conversation. I can already feel my brain cells expanding,” Regulus says sarcastically. “If that was all, I need to get going. I will truly miss this profound conversation though,” he says before he starts walking away.

“Reg, hold up!” James yells, running after him, Because of fucking course he is. Regulus cannot catch a break.

“I just wanted to wish you good luck really, for the game later tonight. And say hi,” James says, smiling shyly. Because, as previously stated, someone is praying on Regulus’s downfall. Someone wishes him dead, and they sent James Potter as the executioner. Or James Potter’s smile to be more precise.

Regulus proceeds to do the most embarrassing thing he has ever done in his fifteen years on this planet. He blushes. Someone decapitate him please.

This makes James shy smile turn into a full-blown grin, and Regulus somehow blushes even more. Well, that’s it then. No other choice but to jump from a roof now, he thinks.

“Thank you, James,” he replies way too quickly, before he ups his pace until he is basically jogging down the hallway, away from James Potter and his fucking smile.

                                                                                                                    ***

Slytherin wins the Quidditch game against Hufflepuff (shocking) almost immediately, because Regulus catches the Snitch. Not to brag or anything, but he is brilliant. Or Hufflepuff is just really shit.

Anyways, a Quidditch win, no matter who the opposing team was, calls for a party. Slytherin parties are like a big family dinner with your father’s stuck-up side of the family, where everyone only brags about their own achievements and eat fucking caviar. Regulus despises it, but considering all the spotlight is on him he can’t just not make an appearance. Unfortunately.

He spends the evening with Dorcas, because he still refuses to talk to Evan and Barty after this morning. He did promise Pandora to keep an eye on Evan, because Evan does not know his own limits and always drinks more than he can handle. His twin sister would’ve normally been with him (Pandora is his much better half, and most of the time his brain), but she is a Ravenclaw and therefore not allowed at this party.

Regulus loves being with Dorcas (though he would never admit this of course). Sometimes he feels like she is the only one who understands him, as cliché as that is. Dorcas is very similar to him in a lot of ways, she just hides it better.

Regulus met Dorcas his first year at Hogwarts in the Slytherin common room. Neither of them really knew anyone, and they were quickly drawn to each other. They made a pact that same year; they swore to be each other’s person. And so ever since a pact made at the age of eleven in a broom closet hiding away from the rest of the world, they have been inseparable. Dorcas is the person Regulus always seeks out in crowds. She lets him be just as he is. Dorcas never pushes him or tries to change him. She accepts whatever he can give her. Sometimes they don’t even talk, just sit together in silence. They both enjoy being alone but not being lonely. So, they share their loneliness with each other instead, and it is something Regulus really appreciates.

“Do you want to make a bet?” Dorcas asks him. She is looking straight at him (Regulus thinks she is the only person in this world who can hold his gaze) with a crooked brow. Her dark hair is braided and decorated with different kinds of pearls. Regulus has no clue how she does it, but he thinks it looks nice.

“Betting against you is never a good idea, Dor,” he replies. Dorcas lets out a small laugh, rolling her eyes.

“Don’t be a bore now, Black. Entertain your lady,” she says with a smile.

“My lady?” he replies while arching a brow. Dorcas just swats his arm.

“Will Evan and Barty fuck before or after the Christmas break? I bet before,” she says, staring intently at him. Regulus can’t help but feel like this is some sort of test, one he must pass.

“That’s not fair, it’ll obviously happen before the break if Barty can just get over his whole pride thing and kiss Evan, for the love of us all,” he replies back smoothly, hoping his answer will satisfy Dorcas and whatever she’s looking for.

“So you know then?”

He just gives Dorcas a look that clearly screams ‘obviously’.

 “Do you think I’ve suddenly suffered some sort of brain injury you haven’t been informed of?”

“No, I think you are a) a male and b) emotionally constipated,” she smiles back at him. Regulus fake gasps.

“Moi? Emotionally constipated? You wound me, Ms. Meadows,” he says while clutching his heart. Dorcas rolls her eyes at him, before getting up from the couch they are sitting in. She offers him her hand, and he takes it.

“Let’s get drunk and try and make our other, somehow even more, emotionally constipated friends fuck so we can all get a break,” Dorcas says while dragging Regulus towards the crowd.

“You’ve noticed the unhealthy amount of eye-fucking too?” Regulus asks her. Dorcas stops, turns around, and looks at Regulus like he is the biggest idiot ever.

“You think I don’t recognise some good old yearning when I see it?” She says it in a joking tone, but Regulus knows there’s more behind those words.

They’ve never actually discussed it, but Regulus is fairly sure Dorcas is in love with Marlene McKinnon. One time, about a year ago, Regulus found Dorcas crying in the library. She wouldn’t tell him why she was crying, but Regulus started connecting the dots when he saw Marlene McKinnon and Remus Lupin holding hands later that day. He’d suspected Dorcas had a crush on Marlene ever since they got paired up in a herbology project. She would not shut up about the Gryffindor chaser and her how good she smelled, and how funny she was, and blah blah blah. It was torture for Regulus, really.

Before Regulus has the chance to say anything, Dorcas continues walking, saving Regulus from an awkward conversation about feelings (thank Salazar).

Unfortunately for him, they are met by a drunk Evan, and Barty taking shots like his life depends on it. Regulus isn’t opposed to some fun, contrary to popular belief, so he joins in. In his defence, he will never get to do this later, considering he will be dead, gone, and buried. So, he must seize the opportunity when it is presented to him.

Too many shots later, Regulus is well and truly drunk. Which is never a good idea for him, but especially not now. Not when he has a whole new level of fucking up available to him. This is all Dorcas’s fault really. Yes, let’s blame her. Dorcas should’ve stopped him, he tells himself while walking down the hall headed straight for the last place he should. The Astronomy Tower. To James.