The astronomy tower isn’t just for stars
It starts, ironically enough, with Regulus Black defending his brother.
Not because he likes him — Merlin, no — but because watching Sirius splutter and seethe like a wet cat is far too entertaining to pass up.
It’s in the corridor outside Potions, and Severus has just thrown some cutting remark at Sirius about Gryffindor arrogance. Standard stuff, really. But before Sirius can whirl around and retort, Regulus—lean, polished, perfect little heir of the Black family—drifts past like he’s entirely bored of everyone involved and says, dry as bone:
Oh, for Merlin’s sake, leave him alone, Severus.”
The world sort of…stops.
Sirius turns so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. “WHAT?”
Snape stares like he’s been hit with a Stunning Spell.
Regulus barely looks up from inspecting his cufflinks, bored to death. “Honestly, it’s pathetic at this point. You’re twice the duelist he is, and yet you still waste your time on him like a lovesick Gryffindor. Let him scurry back to his little friends already.”
Sirius looks personally victimized. “Are you—are you DEFENDING me?”
Severus, however, is floored. Not by the insult — Merlin knows he’s heard worse — but because Regulus Black just intervened on his behalf. Sort of. Maybe.
(It counts, right?)
Regulus gives Sirius a long, withering glance. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re still a moron. But you’re my moron.”
He turns and walks away like he hasn’t just completely derailed the universe.
Sirius is still spluttering behind him. Snape hasn’t moved.
And for the first time in a long time, Severus finds himself watching someone walk away and thinking — what the absolute hell just happened.
—————————————————————-
He starts noticing Regulus after that.
It’s not intentional. It’s not like Severus Snape has the time to think about polished, sharp-tongued Slytherin princes who casually defend their trainwreck brothers just to irritate them.
But Regulus is everywhere.
Leaning against cold stone walls with that infuriating little smirk. Sitting in the library with his chin in his hand, looking like he’s miles away. Walking the halls late at night like someone who doesn’t sleep very much anymore.
And then — one night — Severus finds him in the Astronomy Tower.
Severus was just wandering the halls after brewing in the dungeons, and he happened to sees him.
Regulus.
Curled up on the cold stone floor of the Astronomy Tower. His face buried in his knees, shoulders shaking like the world is ending.
Alone.
Crying.
Real, shaking, hands-buried-in-his-hair kind of crying. Not pretty. Not polished. Just raw.
Severus stands there, frozen.
He could leave.
He should leave.
But instead — for some reason he still doesn’t understand — he says, quietly: “Black?”
Regulus doesn’t flinch this time. He just laughs, bitter and wrecked.
“You here to gloat?” Regulus asks without looking up. “Catch the perfect Black heir falling apart? Go on, then.”
But Severus doesn’t move.
“I’m not here for that,” he says moving closer “are you alright?”.
And something in Regulus unravels.
Like the words have been sitting on the tip of his tongue for weeks, waiting for someone — anyone — to ask.
Severus sits down beside him without asking.
He doesn’t say anything when Regulus starts talking.
About Sirius — about missing him so much it aches, even when all they do is fight. About their parents — the weight of expectation like chains around his neck. About hating them. About loving them anyway. About how stupid and broken that makes him feel.
About the Dark Mark.
About how it feels like it’s already carved into his skin, whether he wants it or not.
And Severus — for once in his miserable life — just listens.
When Regulus finally goes quiet, when his voice is hoarse and his eyes are wrecked, Severus says, very softly: “You don’t have to become them, you know.”
Regulus looks at him like no one’s ever said that before. He laughs again — softer this time. Sad. But real.
“And what am I supposed to be instead?” he asks.
Severus hesitates.
And then — truthfully, simply — he says:
“Whatever you want.”
———————————————————————
It becomes a thing after that.
The Astronomy Tower.
Late nights. Quiet talks. Arguments that leave them breathless. Laughter that neither of them expected.
They don’t talk about it. Not really. Not at first
Severus doesn’t notice when it happens. Not really. But one night, when he offers Regulus a smuggled bar of Honeydukes chocolate (because Merlin knows he looks like he needs it), Regulus smiles at him like he’s the only person in the world worth noticing.
And Severus feels it like lightning under his skin.
He’s done for. Absolutely wrecked.
But, for once in his life, it feels like maybe — just maybe — that might not be a bad thing.
Regulus also starts waiting for him like he’s not waiting at all.
And one night — just one — when Severus gets up to leave, Regulus catches his sleeve.
“Stay a bit longer?” he asks.
And Severus stays.
Because, against all odds — against everything they’ve been taught and everything they’re supposed to be — here, in this place, with this broken, sharp, brilliant boy…
He wants to.