Admissions
Regulus felt good these past days. It’s weird but… Spending that time with Potter is…nice, as much as he doesn’t want it to be. After Sirius left… Well, he usually pushes people away so they don’t have the chance to leave him. Maybe that’s sad. Regulus doesn’t want to think about it. He misses his brother. He wonders if Ja- Potter, for Merlin’s sake! tells Sirius about their little encounters. Probably not.
“Oh, shit, sorry-“
Speak of the devil.
“Regulus.”, Sirius greets; a strange look in his eyes. The idiot just bumped into him after rounding a corner in the hallway.
“Sirius.”, he greets back. Expression cold.
They stare at each other; neither of them moving.
Sirius recovers first, running a hand through his long, black hair. “Didn’t think I’d see you around here,” he says, trying to sound casual, but his voice is tight, like he’s holding something back.
Regulus doesn’t flinch at hearing his brother’s voice aimed at him for the first time since he left. “The corridors are for everyone,” he replies coolly, keeping his voice steady, refusing to let the tremor in his chest show.
Sirius huffs a quiet, humorless laugh. “Right. Of course.”
They stand there, tension hanging heavy between them. Regulus keeps his expression perfectly composed, like they’re strangers passing by, and not brothers who used to sneak out after curfew to explore the grounds together.
After a moment, Sirius clears his throat, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “So... how’s school?”
Regulus almost snorts. “School?”
Sirius shrugs, looking everywhere but at him. “Yeah. You know. Classes. Slytherin. All that.”
“Fine,” Regulus replies shortly. “Same as always.”
Sirius nods, like that’s an answer he expected. “Potions still your favorite?”
Regulus hesitates, thrown off by the question. “It’s... tolerable.”
Sirius lets out a faint chuckle. “You were always good at it. Better than me.”
A muscle in Regulus’s jaw twitches. He doesn’t know why Sirius is dragging this out—why he’s pretending like they can just talk like nothing happened. Like he didn’t leave.
Sirius glances at him again, his smile fading. “You’re keeping up with your studies, right?”
Regulus narrows his eyes. “Why do you care?”
Sirius hesitates, looking like he’s searching for the right words. “Because you’re smart. You always were. Would be a shame if you gave up on it.”
Regulus’s shoulders tense. “I haven’t.”
Silence settles between them again, and Regulus wonders if Sirius will finally walk away. He almost wishes he would. But instead, Sirius takes a deep breath, running a hand over his face.
“I—” He pauses, his voice cracking just a bit. “I miss you.”
Regulus stiffens, his mask slipping just for a moment. He can’t believe Sirius has the audacity to say that after all this time.
“Then you shouldn’t have left,” he says, his voice colder than he means it to be.
Sirius’s face falls, guilt flooding his features. “Reg, I—”
But Regulus doesn’t let him finish. He turns sharply on his heel, striding away before Sirius can say anything else. He doesn’t trust himself to stay, doesn’t trust that his voice won’t break if he does.
His hands are shaking, and he curls them into fists to hide it. The ache in his chest is unbearable, and he hates himself for feeling it—for letting Sirius’s words get to him.
He doesn’t look back. He can’t.
Regulus walks briskly down the corridor, jaw clenched, trying to shake off the encounter with Sirius. His mind is racing, and his hands are still trembling, stuffed into the pockets of his robes to hide it. He’s too caught up in his own thoughts to notice the figure coming around the corner until they collide.
“Oh—”
Regulus grits his teeth. “For Merlin’s sake—”
“Hey—whoa, Regulus!” James’s hands come up instinctively to steady him, a look of genuine concern on his face. “You alright?”
Regulus pulls back immediately, regaining his balance. “What is it with people running into me today?” he mutters, brushing invisible dust off his sleeve.
James raises his hands in surrender, but his gaze remains fixed on Regulus, noticing the tension in his posture. “Sorry. Didn’t see you there.” His voice is soft, careful, like he knows Regulus might bolt at any second.
Regulus just huffs and looks away. “It’s fine. Just... watch where you’re going next time.”
James doesn’t respond right away, just studies Regulus with those irritatingly perceptive eyes. “You seem... upset,” he says after a moment.
Regulus stiffens. “I’m not.”
James arches an eyebrow. “Okay. Not upset. Just... a bit stormy, maybe?”
“Can you just—” Regulus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why are you even here?”
James leans casually against the wall, unbothered by Regulus’s tone. “Just came from the common room. You know, where people tend to hang out after classes. Thought I’d stretch my legs. Didn’t expect to get tackled by a Slytherin, though.”
Regulus glares, but there’s no real bite to it. “I didn’t tackle you.”
James grins. “Almost. But hey, if you wanted to roughhouse a bit, I’m always up for it.”
Regulus just shakes his head, but there’s a tiny flicker of something that might almost resemble amusement. It’s easier to focus on James’s harmless teasing than the heavy knot in his chest.
James seems to sense the shift and doesn’t push further. Instead, he shifts gears, his tone softer. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong,” he says, nudging Regulus’s shoulder lightly. “But you don’t have to keep pretending either.”
Regulus doesn’t respond, staring at the stone floor. He hates how James can just see through him, like his mask is made of glass. It’s unsettling.
James doesn’t press, just stays there, leaning against the wall like they’re two friends waiting out a rainy day. Eventually, he speaks again, quieter this time. “You don’t always have to handle everything on your own, you know.”
Regulus’s shoulders tense. “I’m not... I don’t—”
“Yeah, I know,” James interrupts gently. “But... if you need someone to just... stand here with you for a bit, I can do that.”
Regulus wants to scoff, wants to say something cutting and cold to push him away. But the truth is, he doesn’t want James to go. He doesn’t want to be alone right now, and it scares him how much he needs the company.
So he doesn’t say anything, just lets himself lean back against the wall, next to James, not quite touching. They stand there in silence, and for once, James doesn’t fill it with chatter. He just stays, grounding and solid, like he knows that’s what Regulus needs.
After a while, Regulus feels his breathing steady, the tightness in his chest easing just a fraction. He glances at James from the corner of his eye. “You’re... annoyingly persistent.”
James flashes him a quick, lopsided smile. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
Regulus huffs, but there’s no heat in it. He doesn’t move away when James stays by his side.
They stand there in silence, the sounds of distant chatter echoing faintly from the nearby corridor. Regulus can feel the tension in his shoulders slowly easing, and he hates that James’s presence is what’s doing it. He should be more guarded—shouldn’t let himself feel this... calm.
His thoughts are still spinning from the encounter with Sirius, and he finds himself thinking back to what James said in the Astronomy Tower.
I think you’re someone who doesn’t know how to ask for what they need.
It had pissed him off at the time—because it was true. And now, with James just standing there, not asking questions, not pushing, Regulus feels that uncomfortable urge again. The need to just... let go for a moment. To lean into the warmth beside him.
The thought lodges itself in his mind, and he curses himself for even entertaining it. He shouldn’t want that. Shouldn’t want to rest his head on James Potter’s shoulder, of all people. It’s stupid. Reckless. Unthinkable.
But it doesn’t go away.
He shifts slightly, hesitating. It’s almost ridiculous how hard this is—just asking for something so simple. James notices the movement and glances down at him, eyes curious but still gentle. So gentle. Behind his glasses and everything.
Regulus feels the words stick in his throat. He’s not even sure what he’s going to say, but his traitorous mouth moves anyway. “Can I...?”
James’s eyebrows raise, but he waits, giving Regulus the space to continue.
Regulus swallows, his jaw clenching. “Can I—” He lets out a frustrated breath. “Forget it.”
But James doesn’t move away. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice calm and steady. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”
The words settle something in Regulus’s chest, and he hates how much he’s actually considering it. This is so pathetic. But it worked with Pandora, didn’t it? It made him feel better.
After another long, agonizing moment, he just mutters, barely audible, “Can I just... rest my head on your shoulder?”
James’s face softens, eyes warm. “Yeah,” he says without hesitation. “Of course.”
Regulus hates how his cheeks feel hot, how something in his stomach twists at the easy acceptance. Carefully, he shifts closer and lets his head drop against James’s shoulder, his heart pounding. He almost expects James to laugh or make a snide comment, but instead, James just... stays still, as if he knows how fragile the moment is.
After a few seconds, Regulus closes his eyes, trying to ignore how safe this feels. He shouldn’t feel this way—not with Potter. It doesn’t make sense. He breathes in deeply. Potter smells like…leather? Yes that’d make sense. From his quidditch gloves and the brown leather jacket he wears all the time. But there’s something else too. Something warm and slightly earthy. Regulus can’t believe he’s smelling James Potter right know. Salazar, that’s pathetic.
He breathes in again. Is that… Honey? Maybe? Could be his soap or shampoo-
James’s voice interrupts him, low and a little amused. “What are you doing? Are you… smelling me right know?”
Regulus stiffens instantly, pulling away as if burned. “No, I’m not,” he snaps, face heating up. “Just—forget it.” Merlin, this is mortifying.
He starts to turn, but James’s hand catches his arm, holding him back. “Hey, no. It’s fine. Really.”
Regulus doesn’t look at him, mortified by his actions. “I shouldn’t have—”
James cuts him off gently. “You don’t have to explain. We don’t have to talk about it.”
Something in James’s tone makes Regulus pause, and he reluctantly stays where he is, not moving closer, but not running away either.
After a moment, James lets his hand fall away, giving him space. Regulus rests his head on his shoulder again, but this time, James’s hand moves, almost absentmindedly, to Regulus’s hair. He starts running his fingers through the dark curls, slow and gentle. Regulus just about melts. This feels nice. Really really nice. Then he realizes what Potter is doing.
He freezes, heat creeping up his neck. “What are you—”
James shrugs, grinning faintly. “Your hair’s softer than I thought.”
A spike of indignation cuts through the strange calm, and Regulus scowls, slapping James’s hand away. “Don’t touch me,” he snaps, though it lacks real force.
James just chuckles, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. No hair-touching.”
Regulus doesn’t respond, just gives James one last glare before turning on his heel and walking away, heart still racing. He doesn’t hear James following, and that’s almost worse—because now he’s alone with his own thoughts again.
But as he rounds the corner, he catches himself raising a hand to his hair, as if checking whether the touch is still there. He curses under his breath, feeling ridiculous.
And somehow, the thought of James just standing there, unbothered and warm and infuriatingly kind, lingers in his mind far longer than it should.
---
It’s late evening in the Slytherin boys’ dorm, and the room is filled with the usual chaos. Barty is sprawled across Evan’s bed, flipping through a Quidditch magazine and half-heartedly complaining about how he’d be a much better Beater than the current Slytherin one. Evan’s sitting at his desk, meticulously cleaning his wand and rolling his eyes at Barty’s commentary.
Pandora is cross-legged on the floor, sorting through a small collection of shiny stones she picked up by the lake, humming softly. Regulus is on his bed, leaning against the headboard with a book in hand, though he’s not really reading. He’s still thinking about the encounter with his brother and also… Well, Potter and his stupid kindness and the stupid hand in his hair.
Dorcas paces back and forth in the center of the room, looking uncharacteristically nervous. No one’s paying much attention at first, but when she passes by Regulus’s bed for the fifth time, he finally speaks up.
“Are you planning on wearing a hole in the carpet, Meadowes?”
She stops abruptly, glancing at him like a deer caught in wandlight. “What?”
Regulus raises an eyebrow. “You’re pacing. It’s... distracting.”
Evan glances up, mildly curious. “Yeah, what’s got you in a twist?”
Dorcas bites her lip, looking down at the floor. “Nothing. Just... thinking.”
Barty scoffs. “Thinking’s overrated. What’s the problem?”
Pandora looks up from her stones, eyes dreamy but observant. “Your aura is all tangled,” she says, frowning. “You should untangle it before it knots.”
Dorcas sighs, then finally blurts out, “I have something to tell you lot.”
They all quiet down, sensing the seriousness in her tone. Regulus sits up a little straighter, his attention now fully on her.
Dorcas takes a deep breath. “I... I’m a lesbian.”
Silence falls, thick and heavy. Dorcas looks around, eyes darting between them, clearly bracing herself for some kind of backlash.
It’s Barty who breaks the tension first, raising an eyebrow. “Alright. And?”
Dorcas hesitates. “And... I have a girlfriend.”
Evan grins. “Brilliant. Who’s the poor sod?”
A faint blush creeps into Dorcas’s cheeks. “It’s not— I mean, it’s Marlene McKinnon.”
Barty whistles lowly. “A Gryffindor? Bloody hell, Cas, you’ve crossed enemy lines.”
Regulus, surprisingly, feels a knot of tension he hadn’t realized was there unravel in his chest. He doesn’t say anything at first, just lets himself feel the relief. It’s nice. Knowing he’s not the only one in the room who doesn’t quite fit the family mold.
Evan smirks. “So, McKinnon, huh? Isn’t she the one who threatened to hex Barty’s eyebrows off last week?”
Barty snorts. “Oh yeah. She’s vicious. Good taste, Cas.”
Dorcas glances between them, looking almost bewildered. “You’re... not upset?”
Pandora smiles, getting up and walking over to give Dorcas a tight hug. “Of course not. You love who you love. It’s pretty.”
Dorcas hesitates before hugging back, visibly relaxing. Evan gives her a lazy thumbs-up from his chair. “You like girls. McKinnon likes you. Barty likes himself-“
“Oi!,” Barty warns, giving him a look.
Evan just grins, unrepentant. “You’re our friend, Dorcas. We’re not gonna to kick you out for liking girls. I get it. I like ‘em too.”
Barty wiggles his eyebrows. “And Marlene McKinnon? Bloody hell, she’s hot. You have good taste, Cas. How’d you manage to pull her?”
Dorcas’s cheeks go pink. “She asked me out first,” she mumbles.
Barty cackles. “Of course she did. You wouldn’t know how to flirt if it hexed you in the face.”
Regulus huffs a soft laugh despite himself, and Dorcas shoots Barty a glare. “I’m not completely hopeless.”
Pandora pulls back from the hug, tilting her head. “Do you kiss?”
Dorcas shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant. “Sometimes.”
Evan leans back in his chair, grinning. “Have you shagged her yet?”
“Evan!” Dorcas protests, but there’s no real heat behind it.
Barty joins in, completely unbothered. “Yeah, come on. We’re invested now. Is she a good kisser?”
Dorcas buries her face in her hands. “You lot are horrible.”
Regulus’s lips quirk up. “I think they’re just jealous, Cas. They don’t have girlfriends.”
Evan glares. “Oi.”
Dorcas peeks out from between her fingers, and when she sees that no one is angry or upset, she finally relaxes fully. “Thanks,” she mumbles, barely above a whisper.
Regulus gives her a rare, soft smile. “You’re fine, Dorcas. We’re glad you told us.”
Pandora nods enthusiastically. “Love is lovely.”
Before long, Dorcas is pulled into another hug, this time by both Pandora and Evan. Barty grumbles from his spot on the bed. “If we’re doing hugs, someone better get me one too.”
Dorcas just laughs, wiping at her eyes. Regulus doesn’t join the hug, but he doesn’t move away either, watching with something like fondness as his friends make a ridiculous pile on the floor. Then Dorcas pulls him in too. He feels good. Really good.
---
It’s late, and the dorm is unusually quiet. Barty’s already asleep, sprawled across his bed like a starfish, snoring softly. Pandora left before curfew. Dorcas left a while ago, muttering something about meeting Marlene.
Evan’s still awake, though, sitting cross-legged on Regulus’s bed, going through his Potions notes. One of his dreadlocks always falling into his face. He pushes it back every time. Regulus is leaning against the headboard, absently twirling his wand between his fingers, his mind drifting.
“You’re going to set your bed on fire,” Evan says without looking up.
Regulus huffs. “I’m not that careless.”
Evan raises an eyebrow. “Right. Tell that to the poor cauldron you melted last week.”
Regulus narrows his eyes. “That was an accident.”
Evan grins. “Still funny. Slughorn looked like he’d seen a ghost.”
They lapse into a comfortable silence, Evan scribbling something down in his notes. Regulus’s mind keeps wandering back to the conversation they had with Dorcas earlier. Her admission, the relief in her eyes when they didn’t react badly...
His heart feels tight. He’s been thinking about it ever since. If Dorcas could do it, maybe—
No. It’s different. It’s always different for him.
Evan glances up after a moment, sensing the tension. “You alright?”
Regulus nods stiffly. “Fine.”
Evan doesn’t push, just keeps writing. After a moment, Regulus mutters, almost to himself, “Dorcas was brave.”
Evan hums in agreement. “Yeah. I didn’t think she’d actually tell us. Thought she’d just show up one day with McKinnon on her arm.”
Regulus huffs a quiet laugh. “That sounds like her.”
He’s quiet for a moment before he says, more to the room than to Evan, “It was... nice. That she told us.”
Evan looks at him, something thoughtful in his gaze. “Yeah. She seemed terrified, though.”
Regulus swallows, feeling his heart rate pick up. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this. It’s like his brain is moving faster than he can keep up. “She was scared we’d hate her.”
Evan shrugs. “Yeah, well, we don’t. It’s just Dorcas. Doesn’t really matter.”
Regulus bites his lip, his mind racing. He knows he should stop, but he trusts Evan. He’s one of the kindest people in this world and the way he was with Dorcas… His mouth moves before he can think further on it. “Would you care if it was me?”
Evan freezes, eyes widening. “What?”
Regulus’s heart pounds in his ears, and he realizes what he’s just said—what he’s just implied. He quickly looks away, cursing himself. “Forget it.”
But Evan doesn’t drop it. “Hey. I’m not—just... are you saying...?”
Regulus grits his teeth, staring at the wall. “I didn’t say anything.”
There’s a long silence, and then Evan’s voice drops to a softer tone. “Regulus, it’s alright. You know that, right?”
Regulus doesn’t respond, but his hands are trembling, and he hates it. Hates how vulnerable he feels.
Evan shifts closer, careful not to make any sudden movements. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I swear.”
Something in Regulus cracks, and he lets out a shaky breath. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay.”
Regulus finally looks at him, full of fear. Evan looks at him gently. His eyes are soft. “You can’t—no one can know. If my parents—”
Evan squeezes his shoulder. “I know. I swear, Reg, I won’t say anything.”
Regulus nods stiffly, trying to regain control of his breathing. “I just— I didn’t mean to say it. It just... slipped.”
Evan gives him a small, reassuring smile. “It’s fine. Really. You don’t have to worry. I’m not— It doesn’t change anything.”
Regulus lets out a shaky breath, his shoulders slowly relaxing. “You promise?”
Evan nods. “I promise.”
There’s a long pause, and then Evan adds, almost casually, “Besides, it’s not like I care about that sort of thing anyway.”
Regulus blinks, his brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”
Evan shrugs, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Blokes, birds... doesn’t really matter to me. People are just... people, y’know?”
Regulus stares at him, almost incredulous. “You’re serious?”
Evan smirks. “Surprised? I thought you were the observant one.”
Regulus rolls his eyes, but his lips twitch up. “You’re an idiot.”
Evan grins, then they just... look at each other. There’s a weird, charged silence, and Regulus can feel his heart pounding again for a completely different reason.
They’re close. Closer than usual. And Evan looks beautiful in the dim light. Evan’s eyes drop to his lips for just a fraction of a second, and before either of them can think it through, they lean in at the same time, lips brushing.
The kiss is tentative at first, soft and curious, but then Evan’s hand moves to cup the back of Regulus’s neck, deepening it. Regulus shivers when Evan’s tongue brushes his lower lip, and he opens his mouth without thinking, letting Evan kiss him properly.
It’s warm and a little overwhelming—Evan tastes faintly of peppermint and something sweeter. Regulus’s hand curls into Evan’s shirt, pulling him closer without meaning to.
When they finally pull back, both breathing a bit heavier, they stare at each other, wide-eyed.
Evan’s the first to break the silence, a grin tugging at his lips. “That was... unexpected.”
Regulus snorts, but there’s a flush spreading across his cheeks. “You started it.”
Evan raises his eyebrows. “Pretty sure you kissed me first.”
They look at each other for another beat before both of them laugh at the same time, the tension breaking into something more familiar—comfortable, even.
Regulus rolls his eyes, still smiling faintly. “We’re idiots.”
Evan just shrugs. “Yeah, but at least we’re consistent.”
After a moment, Regulus gives him a playful shove. “Don’t get used to it.”
Evan just laughs, leaning back on his hands. “Right. Whatever you say, Reg.”
They don’t talk about it after that, but there’s an easy warmth between them, and Regulus doesn’t regret it. Not with Evan.