The More You Love It
Regulus could not tell you how he kept getting tangled up with his mournful brother’s daily business, of which usually included pestering people to the point they lose all sense of peace. Or what he had done to deserve dealing with his habitual entourage— nearly as insufferable as he is, mind you.
“What might you and the three musketeers possibly be doing in the potions classroom?” Regulus demands impatiently.
Sirius, as always, mocks him. “Easy, little Reggie. We don’t plan on sticking around, dicing dragon testicles with you. It is cute, however, how you nickname my friends.”
“Sirius as D'Artagnan is actually a perfect match. Always knew you were funny Regulus.” Lupin cocks an eyebrow knowingly. Regulus wants to punch him.
He is used to Sirius being around all the time. Or else, he is used to being aware of him, really. His brother is loud and obnoxious and never quite watches where he goes. Naturally, he ends up attracting eyes in every room he walks in. But aside from all of that, Sirius is huge. He is huge.
You can never really focus properly on your surroundings when Sirius Black is living his life remotely close to where you are. Because he has this thing. This color on his face. This posture on his back. This sound in his laughter— and it’s large. He could roar and you wouldn’t run. He could be shouting at you and you would nod. He had it, this calling under his step. That made you want to follow him everywhere. If not legs, elbows and nails pushing the floor. If he asked for a left hand, you’d cut off and give both in case he needed the right one after. He never stopped being anybody’s business. As much as he hates to admit, Regulus is far less than immune to it.
So no, losing him in plain sight was simply a dream and one that would never come true. Regulus has been orbiting around his brother his whole life and having his entire chest handed to him by Sirius was never enough to change that. Apparently nobody had died yet.
Last year he missed Sirius. After he said fuck all and took off. After things started turning into what they are now.
Now he only ever misses his older brother. When he finds the time. These two titles did not belong to a single man anymore. Regulus took his time to figure out who was gone and who had stayed. The inquiry was finished and whoever was left, wasn’t his. Sirius belonged to some others, Regulus never cared much to recite their names. Sirius used to be his. His boy. His place. All that transformed. Regulus genuinely thought one of them had to be dead before they loved each other again. The spark was gone. The link was gone. The sound was gone.
Now they just turned around each other. Occasionally sparing a glance or a glare. Maybe a few hisses at each other’s way. A curse, on a lucky day. But all in all, it was empty. Empty space. Plain black where there used to be hands reaching out. They are worth hating, Regulus thinks. After all the love, the emptiness is disrupting. He’d rather the hate.
“Do not tell me you’re actually here to make use of the ingredients. You lot are a waste of supplements at this school.” Regulus wants this to end even before it starts.
“Why do you want us out of here so bad, Reg? Anything you’re hiding?” Potter grins. Potter grins. Potter does that at all times, at all places. Regulus cannot take it. He will not take it because it hurts his insides to stare at that boy’s face for numerous reasons. Mostly he hates him, too.
“Only my not so secret urge to strangle you, Potter.” Regulus keeps gently stirring the cauldron in front of him with a scornful face. “Merlin knows how many times you’ve blown this place up. The classroom hates your presence. You will meddle with the potions. So as a prefect, leave!”
Hogwarts was magic. The whole castle and every bit of its stone walls. The rooms changed tempers when they felt a certain way about certain people being there. As the classroom’s nerves were spiked, everything in it was affected. In this case, some very important potions were at risk. That was Regulus’s biggest worry as he stirred Slughorn’s brand new project. It was a work in progress. The professor had said he wasn’t sure what any small intervention would do to the liquid. Side effects were not a topic to dismiss in potion making.
“Sadly I don’t give a shit and mummy hasn’t bought off Hogwarts yet. So have fun pouting, I suppose.” Sirius sways a dismissive hand at his direction before he starts going through some drawers. Pettigrew lingers on him for a moment more before he follows his friends in the classroom. Regulus objectively likes this lot of people a lot less than anybody else in Hogwarts. But there’s something in Peter Pettigrew that makes his blood run in different directions. He gives off zero personality. Regulus cannot read him. Knows nothing about him. It’s pissing him off.
They are making a mess. That’s the unsurprising part. The surprising thing is that Regulus isn’t exactly trying to prevent them from whatever sin they are attempting. Because, again, he has no idea what will the consequences be if this potion were to act abnormally. Best case scenario is a small disaster inside a classroom filled with expensive devices. So he tries to calm his nerves and clean his aura as the potion maker. He softens up his stirring. He gazes at the potion and tries giving his undivided attention to the cauldron.
Dorcas once said potion making was like a conversation with a lover. Regulus thought it sounded ridiculous at first. But Dorcas was the best potion maker he had ever met. She said the potion didn’t exactly have its own magic at first. And it didn’t collect magic from the potion maker, unlike any simple charm work, which sucked it out of the magician. Instead, it essentially gained magical form from its natural surroundings. From the ingredients. From the air. From the wind. From the metal melted in the cauldron. And from the emotions that flew around. That’s why squibs and even some ambitious muggles could boil potions with enough work put in.
You needed to chop and slice everything with perfect care. Never too quickly. Always leaving fingerprints and the smell of your palm. The fire needed to be just right. The potion loved attention from its maker. The more you looked at it, the more you wondered about it, as carefully as you stirred it— The more you love it, Dorcas said. It gets better. It’s like building a soul out of plants and animal insides. It’s a delicate job.
Regulus hated being watched while he worked. He tried ignoring the hits and fix his own mood since the classroom reeked of rejection already. He hoped he could salvage the potion, or at least prevent it from exploding. Surprisingly, he was happy with the results. He even started liking the color of the potion. Everything seemed right.
Until it wasn’t.
Peace was one thing his brother could not give. To anyone, Regulus would argue. Apparently the quiet truce was not enough for Sirius. He had to be doing something to get Regulus agitated. Not letting one moment of peace exist between them while they are in the same room. Like it reminded him of their old home, he always bit at it. Reached to destroy it. It used to be way more heartbreaking for Regulus than it is now.
But Regulus isn’t heartbroken when Sirius pours an entire jar of something dark colored into his boiling cauldron. He is utterly furious. He is terrified. He could kill Sirius right know. He will do it if this potion doesn’t kill all of them first.
“You fucking clueless fool!” Regulus quickly takes a few steps back from the potion because he hates the way all the steam is coming out of it. Even that might be dangerous. He doesn’t realize he’s been pushing Sirius away from the cauldron as well. Until he turns around to shout at him. “Do you have any idea what you just did?”
“Seems like you didn’t like it.” Sirius has the nerve to smirk.
“Sirius this isn’t a joke you idiot! What was that thing you just poured?” Regulus starts looking around for the jar. He can’t look at his brother and his hands are shaking from anger.
“How should I know?” Sirius muses. “You’re the person in charge here, Reggie.”
“Sirius shut up.” Lupin cuts in. Regulus would pay to see the expression on his brother’s face under any other circumstances but he’s too busy freaking out. “Regulus what is the potion? What were you boiling?”
“I don’t know!”
“You don’t know?”
“I don’t know!” He turns to Lupin with a hand pulling at his hair. He can see all four of them starting to get worried just from watching him. He thinks he must look absolutely manic. “Slughorn gave me the instructions and told me it was something new. He told me to be careful about every little thing because he couldn’t detect any of the side effects yet!”
“He gave this possibly dangerous duty to a minor?” Lupin asks with misplaced shock.
“I’ve been helping him make potions for the ministry since I was twelve and that, Lupin, is the least of our problems here. We might be getting poisoned here just from breathing. Sirius! What. Was. In. The. Jar.” Regulus looks at him, frantic. Sirius finally seems to grab a branch of reality.
“I- I’m not sure. It didn’t have any labels on it. It was sort of brownish and it smelled really bad. Regulus I’m- I’m sorry—“
“Where did you put the jar?” Potter asks putting a hand on Sirius’ shoulder to stop him from rambling. Regulus wants to laugh. Yes, let’s all make sure Sirius is alright because he seems briefly in distress. James Potter genuinely doesn’t even surprise Regulus anymore. “Sirius where’s the jar? Tell me.”
Sirius points his hand towards the table on the side and Regulus wants to fucking cry. Because he’s looking at a table with nearly a hundred used empty jars on it. Slughorn must have meant to clean them all at once.
“Around… Where?” Potter tries.
“Uh…”
“I’m going to kill you.” Regulus mutters with a flat voice. He is still looking at the table, desperately trying to scan the ones at the sides to see if there are any signs of a brown liquid.
“No, no one’s killing anyone! We can— We,” Regulus won’t even hear anything being said. He has both of his hands in his hair, pushing against his scalp to decrease his headache. This is it. They’ll each probably grow a pair of front legs by tomorrow morning. If they don’t drop dead in the next few hours. He can’t snap out of his crisis until he sees James Potter’s face right in front of his eyes. His hands on Regulus’s shoulders, softly shaking him into lucidness. “Regulus! We’ll fix it okay? It’ll be fine, we’re five people here! Remus is actually pretty good at potions and Lily will be here soon! It’s fine, we are going to be fine. I need you to trust me, alright? Can you do that?”
Oh honestly fuck off.
Regulus hates that he understands why anyone who has ever lived would choose James Potter over him. Look at those eyes and that skin and all those hair. He must be really warm to have. Must feel really amazing. Is it really that surprising that his tortured brother picked him as his savior? What has Regulus done to ease Sirius’s pain? Besides causing him more?
“I won’t let anything happen Regulus, okay? I’ll fix it. You need to stay calm.” James looks very genuine.
Would you have been able to save me, as well?
Regulus is not sure what Potter sees on his face but he looks a little taken back. Regulus makes a small sigh and tries getting his shit together because they need to alert a professor and sort this out immediately. Or something irreversible could happen. He nods and notices Potter’s little smile. He ignores that he doesn’t hate that as much as he hates the rest of the boy.
“You know none of this would’ve happened if you had just shut your mouth!” Sirius yells and Regulus can see his stupid face after Potter turns to him in shock.
“Padfoot could you stop?” Lupin sounds tired when he tries putting a hand on Sirius’ arm. “Let’s just handle this, okay?”
“No!” Sirius pulls his arm from Lupin’s hands.
“How is this my fault you incurable lunatic?!” Regulus finds that he is actually offended. He doesn’t even attempt to understand how Sirius’s train of thoughts brought him to that conclusion. He never gets to anywhere when he does that.
“If you hadn’t pissed me off when we came here just so you could satisfy your self-hatred a tiny bit, all this would’ve never happened!” Sirius takes a few long steps and he is right in front of Regulus.
Regulus backs off a little but he quickly realizes his mistake when Sirius just keeps coming. He doesn’t touch him other than just poking Regulus’s chest with his index finger. “What are you talking about Sirius? You make absolutely no sense right now.”
“You didn’t mind your fucking business!”
“I was minding my business! I was!”
“You didn’t at first!”
“Oh so because I pissed you off you just had to piss me off right back? You could not just keep living your life?!”
“Exactly!” Sirius opens both arms to his sides and gives Regulus that big grin. He looks like a prick. He looks nothing like the bright eyed boy who is named after Regulus’s favorite star in the entire universe. Who wakes him up softly in the mornings before their mother sent Kreacher to call them for breakfast. Who pats his hair and lets him sleep in his bed. Who has his arms open just like this on Regulus’s fifth birthday, with an equally big smile on his face. But it’s not for mocking him. It’s for the best hug Regulus has ever had in his whole five years of life. Maybe still is. Still the best one yet.
He doesn’t look like that kid anymore. It tears a crack in Regulus’s heart, a deep one. Something that hasn’t happened in a while.
“Fuck you, Sirius!” Sirius immediately has both hands on Regulus’s chest and he pushes him back with force. And Regulus all but intends to push him right back when he gets a hold of himself. He does. Except that never happens.
What does happen is that Regulus watches Sirius’ eyes widen only for one second before his back crashes into the wheeled counter with the boiling cauldron on it. His weight pushes the counter back and his back collides with the floor. He doesn’t even have one second to brace himself for the boiling hot liquid that is about to pour down on him.