And the kids cry out
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Regulus’s first year started in an unusual way. Because of his brother’s reputation in the hallways, he didn’t receive a warm welcome from the other Slytherin students. At age 11, that sort of thing can be complicated—and terribly lonely.
Evan and Barty became his friends quickly, sticking by him whenever they could and offering support whenever Black needed it. But when he was alone, Regulus became an easy target. Slytherin students would bump into him in the corridors—harsh enough that it left red marks on his skin.
Every day, Regulus felt the weight of being constantly at the centre of stares and whispers. Although Evan and Barty tried their best to protect him, they couldn’t be everywhere all at once.
---
Regulus was in the library, his fingers flipping through the pages of a book on protective spells, but his mind was elsewhere. He felt exhausted, and the shadows under his eyes showed just how much he carried. Pandora entered the room with light footsteps, her gaze wandering curiously over the bookshelves and the scattered students. When she spotted him sitting alone, she hesitated briefly before deciding to approach him.
“Hi,” she said with a timid smile, leaning slightly over the table where he sat. “You look focused… or maybe lost?”
Regulus lifted his eyes, slightly surprised. “I’m reading,” he replied, his tone more defensive than he intended.
Pandora laughed softly, as though she could see straight through his words. “I see. Well, it’s a pretty good place to get lost, if that’s the case. I’m Pandora—Ravenclaw.”
He frowned, intrigued. “Ravenclaw? Why would someone from Ravenclaw be talking to me?”
“Why not?” Pandora replied, raising an eyebrow as though his question didn’t make sense. “The library isn’t reserved for Slytherin students, and you looked like you could use some company. You don’t mind, do you?”
Regulus stayed silent, weighing her words carefully. Finally, he mumbled, “I don’t… mind.”
Pandora smiled again, as though she’d just overcome some invisible barrier. “Good. What are you reading? Looks interesting.” She gestured towards the book in his hands.
“Protective spells,” he answered, trying not to sound dejected. “I wanted to understand… why some of them fail.”
Pandora tilted her head, genuinely curious. “Protection, huh? Spells are just one part of it, you know. The rest… it’s all about what we believe.”
“What difference does that make?” Regulus asked, feeling strangely provoked by her words.
“Spells reflect who we are. If you don’t believe you deserve protection, maybe they fail because you’ve already given up on them before you even begin. Sounds odd, but it makes sense when you think about it.”
Regulus stared at her for a long moment, unsure of how to respond. There was a frankness in her voice that he wasn’t used to hearing. Finally, he said, “You’re… different.”
Pandora shrugged with a casual smile. “That’s what everyone says, but no one actually tries to understand me. And you? Everyone talks about you as Sirius’s little brother. But I see someone who has their own story. I’m just curious to learn it.”
Something in her sincerity made Regulus lower his guard. For the first time, he felt like someone really saw past the expectations that surrounded him.
---
Regulus was making his way back to the Slytherin common room after another long day, his footsteps echoing in the nearly deserted corridors. He clutched a book tightly against his chest, a habit that was slowly becoming a kind of armour for him. When he entered the common room, he found Severus Snape sitting in one of the armchairs near the fireplace. The second-year student held a small vial of potion in his hand, swirling it casually as if testing something.
Snape glanced up when he heard Regulus walk in, and for a moment, his gaze lingered on the younger boy. “Bit late for a first-year to be wandering the corridors alone, don’t you think?” he remarked, not unkindly, but with a hint of curiosity.
Regulus hesitated, glancing around before answering. “I was in the library. I don’t like all the noise in the Great Hall...”
Snape gave a small nod, as though he completely understood. He motioned towards the armchair opposite him. “Sit. You’re always hiding behind books. Maybe it’s time you talked to someone who isn’t made of paper and ink.”
Not entirely sure why, Regulus accepted the invitation. He perched on the edge of the chair, still clutching the book, and watched Snape with a cautious expression.
“No need to be so tense,” said Snape, with a dry touch of humour in his voice. “I don’t bite. But I do observe, and I’ve noticed that things haven’t exactly been easy for you here.”
Regulus tightened his grip on the book, avoiding eye contact. “It’s nothing. Just... getting used to things.”
Snape leaned forward slightly, setting the vial of potion down on the table beside him. “Getting used to something isn’t the same as surviving it. Hogwarts can be... challenging, especially for those who are different or who carry certain names. I know that better than most.”
The words caught Regulus off guard. There was no judgement in Snape’s tone, no superiority—just a kind of honesty that Regulus wasn’t expecting.
“How do you handle it?” Regulus asked, almost without realising he was speaking out loud.
Snape gave a faint smile, more to himself than to Regulus. “I focus on what matters. My studies, potions, anything that helps me improve. Sometimes, you just need to find something worth holding onto, something no one can take from you.”
Regulus stayed silent, absorbing the words. For the first time, he felt like someone was truly trying to understand him—not comparing him to Sirius, nor to the suffocating expectations of his family name.
“If you need help with Potions—or anything else—you can come to me,” Snape added, almost casually. “And stay out of empty corridors at night. There are plenty of people around here who enjoy causing trouble for boys like you.”
There was something oddly comforting about the advice, practical though it was. Regulus gave a small nod. “Thank you.”
Snape returned to swirling the potion in his vial, but there was a faint glimmer of understanding in his eyes. “Don’t worry, Black. Here, we’re all learners. Even the ones who pretend they’re above it.”
---
The corridor was empty after Potions class, with most students already heading towards the Great Hall. Regulus, as usual, preferred to wait until the rush had died down before leaving. He walked alone, his footsteps echoing softly, when he heard voices behind him.
“Well, look who’s all alone again,” said a voice dripping with sarcasm. Regulus turned slowly and saw three Slytherin students approaching with malicious grins. He recognised two of them as second-years, always ready to cause trouble.
“Think you’re better than us, Black?” one of them taunted, shoving Regulus’s shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. “Just because you’ve got a famous name?”
Regulus tried to move away, but another student blocked his path. “Not going to answer? Or are you too busy being Sirius’s perfect little brother?”
The words hit Regulus like invisible blows. He tried to keep his composure, but the fear and shame began to build. One of the boys grabbed his book and threw it to the floor, while another shoved him roughly against the wall.
“You don’t belong here,” said the leader of the group, his voice cruel. “Not in Slytherin, not anywhere.”
The shoving and insults continued until the distant sound of a professor’s footsteps echoed down the hallway, sending the students scattering quickly. Regulus remained there, leaning against the wall, struggling to catch his breath. His hands trembled as he picked up his book from the floor and made his way to the nearest bathroom.
Once inside, he locked the door and leaned over the sink, his breathing erratic. The students’ words echoed in his mind, tangled with the overwhelming sense of helplessness. He began to feel his chest tighten, as though the air was slipping away. The panic attack came swiftly and intensely, and he bent over the sink, desperate to calm himself. But the nausea took over, and he ended up vomiting, tears streaming down his face as he tried to regain control.
Outside, James Potter was passing through the corridor. He had noticed the Slytherin students hurrying away and something about their behaviour caught his attention. Hearing muffled sounds coming from the bathroom, James paused and frowned. He wasn’t close to Regulus, but something felt off. Hesitating for a moment, he lingered before moving on, though not without glancing back at the closed door with a hint of concern.
---
Regulus finally left the bathroom, his face pale and his hands still trembling slightly. He headed straight for the Slytherin common room, determined to avoid any interaction until the next day. However, as he entered, he found Sirius standing in the centre of the room, laughing with his friends—James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.
Sirius noticed his brother walk in, and his smile faltered for a brief moment before returning, this time with a provocative edge. “Well, look who’s decided to show up,” he said loudly enough for the others to laugh.
Regulus froze in place. It wasn’t surprising that Sirius would take this tone with him, but something inside him was already dangerously close to breaking. The tense silence didn’t go unnoticed by James, who exchanged a glance with Sirius but chose not to intervene.
“Are you just going to stand there, or crawl back to your little hideaway in the library?” Sirius continued, his sarcastic grin widening.
Regulus clenched his fists, feeling a surge of anger rising, mixed with the pain of everything he had endured that day. He took a step towards his brother, his voice low but charged with emotion. “Why do you always do this, Sirius? Isn’t it enough that everyone else treats me like this—do you really have to join in too?”
Regulus’s tone caught Sirius off guard. He hadn’t expected his brother to fight back, especially in front of his friends. For a moment, he seemed uncertain, but he quickly recovered his disdainful stance. “Oh, don’t start with the drama, Regulus. This is Hogwarts, not the Black family’s soap opera.”
“Maybe you should remember that,” Regulus shot back, his voice steadier than he thought possible. “Because while you try so hard to be different, all you’re doing is acting just like them—but worse.”
The atmosphere in the common room seemed to grow heavier, and the laughter of Sirius’s friends had faded. James glanced at Sirius, visibly uncomfortable, but Sirius maintained his smile, though irritation flickered in his expression.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sirius retorted, but his response was nearly a whisper. Before he could say anything else, Regulus walked past him without another glance, heading up to the dormitory and leaving his brother standing there.
In the silence that followed, James finally broke the tension. “I think you two need to talk… properly.”
Sirius, however, let out a short, forced laugh. “Talk to him? He’s just another lost Black. Not worth the effort.”
Even as he said the words, there was something in Sirius’s eyes that betrayed his posture. Perhaps he didn’t want to admit it—not even to himself—but what Regulus had said had struck a chord far deeper than he was willing to show.
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