Chapter 2
Evan already regretted saying yes.
The moment he stepped outside, he felt as if he could feel the weight of the mistake he made by saying yes to the New Year's party. The England night air was cold, hitting sharp against his skin. This party was at the house of some kids from Pandora's school. One of Pandora’s friends, maybe. He didn’t ask, he didn’t care enough to ask. Evan wondered if it was too late to pretend he was sick or something to go back home.
“Stop looking like you're about to get executed,” Pandora muttered as they walked through the streets.
She was dressed for a night out— dark brown boots, a brown leather jacket, a delicate white dress, and multiple layered necklaces. Compared to her, Evan felt that he was underdressed. He wore a white plain shirt, blue jeans with a belt, a black plain jacket, and some beat-up skate shoes. Compared to Pandora, Evan looked like he was going to a casual dinner with friends.
“It’s just a party.”
Evan scoffed. “Right. Just a party.”
He could already picture it. The noise, the smell of smoke and alcohol thick in the air. Loud music, people drinking way too much, people talking too loud, and being forced to have small talk with people he had never met. This was his personal hell.
“I still don’t get why you're making me do this,” he muttered.
“Because you need to meet people and have friends. You can’t just rot in your room forever.”
“Listen, I don’t need friends. I’m fine just on my own,” He scoffed.
Pandora sighed, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. “Look, I just… I want you to meet people. You can’t spend your whole life avoiding the world.”
Evan didn’t answer.
Suddenly, they finally stopped walking. The house was in front of them. Loud music was playing, people were smoking on the front steps while holding bottles of alcohol.
Evan stopped walking.
Pandora grabbed his wrist before he could make a run for it. “No. You’re going in.”
He let her pull him forward.
The door swung open, and they stepped into the noise.
It was exactly as bad as he thought it would be.
The house was crowded, loud music, dim lighting, people in groups talking loudly. Before he knew it, Pandora started pulling him through the house.
“Come on,” she urged, grasping his wrist.
“I want you to meet my friends,” said Pandora excitedly.
Evan kept his head down as they walked through the house. The music was pounding—some bass-heavy song he didn’t recognize, voices and bursts of drunken laughter. The air smelled like cheap alcohol and cigarette smoke.
He already felt out of place.
Pandora led him toward a group near the corner of the living room. There was a girl with long braids and sharp dark eyes sitting on the arm of a couch, deep in conversation with a girl with blonde hair wearing a leather jacket. Next to her, a familiar face, Emmeline, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.
Evan exhaled slowly. At least there was a familiar face.
“Dorcas,” Pandora called, her voice easily cutting through the music and laughter. “Emme, Marlene.”
Emmeline looked up first, her gaze flickering over at Evan before looking at Pandora with a smirk. “I'm surprised that you were actually able to drag him here.”
Dorcas turned her attention, her sharp eyes landing directly on Evan. She was still sitting on the arm of the couch. Marlene was curled up beside her, an arm draped loosely around Dorcas’s waist. At first, Marlene barely looked at Evan, too busy murmuring something in Dorcas’s ear, but at the mention of his name, Marlene glanced up.
“So the famous Rosier twin exists.” Dorcas announced, tilting her head slightly.
Pandora rolled her eyes. “Everyone, this is my brother, Evan.”
“Evan, this is Dorcas and her girlfriend, Marlene.”
Evan gave a short nod, unsure what to say. He could feel Dorcas’s gaze still on him.
Marlene gave Evan a glance, her arms still wrapped around Dorcas
“You look like your sister,” she noted.
Evan shrugged. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“Dorcas, where's everyone?”
“I haven’t seen Barty or —“
“Right here,” a voice from behind them cut in, slightly slurring.
Evan turned his head just in time to see a boy stepping forward—wasted but steady, as if he had learned how to hold himself together even while drunk a long time ago.
Dorcas sighed. “And there he is.”
Barty ignored her, his attention snapping straight to Evan.
“You must be Pandora’s brother, right?” Barty slurred.
“Barty, this is my brother, Evan,” Pandora stated.
“So this is the infamous Rosier twin,” Barty said, his grin widening while leaning back against the couch.
He took a slow sip from the bottle in his hand, eyes flickering between Evan and Pandora.
“You’re quieter than I expected.” Barty stated.
Evan raised an eyebrow. “You expected something?”
Barty grinned. “I just expected you to be as talkative as Pandora.”
The conversation drifted into something else—Evan zoned out and stopped paying attention halfway into the conversation.
After a few minutes, Barty pushed himself up from the couch.
“Gonna go get another drink,” he announced.
“See you guys later.”
Evan barely had a chance to process the earlier interaction before Emmeline nudged him.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go get drinks.”
Before he could even say anything, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the kitchen, not giving him a choice in the matter.
The kitchen was just as crowded as the rest of the house. Bottles and plastic cups clutter every surface. Emmeline started to pour two drinks—one for herself, one for Evan.
He eyed the cup she handed him. “What is it?”
“Does it matter?”
Evan sighed but took a sip. Vodka. Cheap. Burned on the way down.
Emmeline leaned against the counter, scanning the party.
“You know anyone here?”
Evan took a slow sip of his drink. “Not really.”
She hummed. “Figured.” Her eyes flicked across the room. “Alright, I’ll make it easy for you. I’ll name a few people I know here.” She nodded toward a group near the couch. “Dorcas and Marlene. You met them already, obviously. They’re disgustingly in love.”
Evan followed her gaze—Marlene was curled up beside Dorcas, whispering something in her ear.
“Over by the stairs—James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter,” she continued. “They are a year older. “
“They’re not really part of our group, but we know them since Marlene and Dorcas are dating, and they are in the same grade and friend group as Marlene.”
Evan recognized Sirius immediately—his sharp features and dark hair were impossible to miss.
“Over there is Lily and Mary. I also know them because of Marlene. Marlene and the two of them have known each other since they were 7. They are inseparable.” She said while gesturing toward two girls.
Emmeline nodded toward the opposite corner of the room. “And that is Barty. “
Evan’s eyes landed on him again—Barty was sprawled out on the couch now, one arm draped over a girl, one hand holding a bottle, a lazy smirk on his face as he spoke to her.
“You met him already,” Emmeline said. Watching Evan’s expression.
“Yeah,” Evan said simply.
She raised an eyebrow. “And?”
Evan shrugged. “I don’t know, he’s loud… I guess”
That made her laugh. “Yeah, he’s like that.”
Before he could say anything else, Emmeline straightened. “Come on.”
“What now?”
“I want you to meet someone.” Emmeline said while dragging Evan by the wrist.
The cold hit Evan immediately as they stepped outside. The outside area was quieter than inside of the house, the muffled music still thudding behind them. A few people lingered on the patio, drinks in hand, smoke curling in the air.
And there, leaning against the railing, was Regulus Black.
For a moment, Evan froze.
Regulus looked the same as he remembered.
His features are sharper, his black curls are slightly longer now, falling over his pale face. A cigarette dangling lazily from his fingers. His grey eyes flickered up at them, and for a second, something like recognition hit his face.
“You two should meet,” Emmeline said. “Regulus, this is—”
“You don’t have to introduce us, Emme. We’ve known each other since we were kids.” Regulus said, cutting Emmeline mid-sentence.
Emmeline’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait—what?”
Regulus exhaled smoke, tilting his head.
“Our families used to be close. Before—” He waved a hand vaguely as if dismissing everything that had happened in the years since.
Regulus took another slow drag from his cigarette before holding it out.
“Didn’t think this was your type of scene.”
Evan hesitated for a second before taking it.
The burn was familiar. The quiet between them, even more.
Emmeline grabbed the cigarette from Evan’s fingers before he could pass it back to Regulus. She took a slow drag, exhaling smoke into the cold air.
“I'm going to go back inside. I’ll let you two catch up.” Emmeline said.
And with that, she disappeared back inside, leaving Evan standing there with Regulus and the weight of old family history.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The cold settled between them. Regulus leaned against the railing, his gaze unfocused as he flicked ash from his cigarette.
“How was France?” he asked eventually, voice even.
Evan huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Shit.”
Regulus smirked slightly like he wasn’t surprised. “Figured.”
Evan took the cigarette when Regulus handed it to him, inhaling slowly.
“It was cold. Boring. My father was a mess.”
Regulus nodded. “Yeah. I heard about what happened.”
A moment of quiet settled between them.
“Sirius got disowned.” Regulus said, cutting the silence.
Evan glanced at him. He already knew, but hearing it from Regulus felt different.
“Yeah,” Evan said. “I heard.”
Regulus nodded slightly, like he expected that answer. “It was bad. Not that it was ever good, but... it was bad.” He paused, then exhaled smoke. “A year later, I ended up leaving as well.”
Regulus continued. “Sirius ran off first. My mother and father lost their mind over it. Called him a disgrace, said he was dead to the family.”
He paused. “Then, all the family pressure was on me.”
Evan handed the cigarette back. “So you left before you could mess up and kick you out.”
Regulus took the cigarette between his fingers, inhaling deeply before exhaling into the cold night air. “Something like that.”
“They wanted me to fix things. Be the perfect Black heir. After Sirius left, they treated it like he never existed and that it could be covered up if I played my part well enough.”
“The funny thing is that I still ended up with Sirius. We’re both at Uncle Alphard now.”
Evan raised an eyebrow. “And that’s… working out?”
“We’re trying,” Regulus said.
Evan exhaled smoke, nodding. He understood what trying meant.
They fell into silence again, passing the cigarette back and forth.
“Your sister missed you, you know,” Regulus said eventually.
Evan tensed up slightly but didn’t look at him. “Yeah.”
Regulus took one final drag of the cigarette before stubbing it out on the railing.
“I’m going back in,” Evan muttered.
Regulus didn’t try to stop him; he just leaned against the railing, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and said, “See you around.”
Evan stepped inside, immediately hit by the noise of the party. The air was thick with alcohol and sweat, the music pounding harder than before. It was even more crowded now.
Evan was trying to move through the bodies, trying to make his way back toward the kitchen or at least somewhere less crowded.
And then
Something cold and sticky soaked through his shirt.
He flinched as liquid splashed down his front, the overwhelming scent of vodka and something fruity hitting his nose.
“Shit,” a voice said. “Didn’t see you there.”
Evan looked up, already irritated, only to find himself face-to-face with Barty.
Barty was grinning, unfazed although his drink was now all over Evan’s shirt. His brown hair was messier than before, his pupils blown—definitely drunker than the last time Evan had seen him.
Evan exhaled sharply, peeling his damp shirt away from his skin. “Yeah. No shit.”
Barty glanced down at the mess he’d made and let out a short laugh. “That’s my bad.”
Evan rolled his eyes.
Instead of answering, Barty set his now-empty cup down on a nearby table. “Come on,” he said, grabbing Evan’s wrist without hesitation.
Barty led Evan through the house, pushing past people without a care in the world.
They reached a hallway, dimly lit and a bit more quiet than the rest of the house. Barty didn’t hesitate before opening a random door, revealing a bedroom.
“In,” he said, gesturing dramatically.
Evan crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “You always drag strangers into random rooms, or am I just special?”
Barty smirked. “Maybe you’re just lucky.”
The room was half-messy, half-put-together. Clothes were draped over a chair, an unmade bed sat in the corner of the room, and posters covered the walls. There was a faint smell of cologne and smoke.
Barty shut the door behind them, walking toward a closet like this was a completely normal situation.
Evan leaned against the wall, arms crossed. His eyes flickered over the room again, something clicking into place.
“Whose clothes are you even grabbing?” he asked.
Barty barely glanced up. “Mine.”
Evan frowned. “This is your house?”
Barty smirked, finally tossing a shirt at him. “Took you long enough to realize.”
Evan caught it, inspecting the fabric. “Your parents don’t care that you throw parties like this?”
Barty let out a short laugh, flopping onto his bed. “My father? He doesn’t know. And even if he did, he’s never here long enough to care.”
Evan didn’t respond right away. He just stood there, holding the shirt, watching Barty stretch out on the bed.
Evan hesitated, watching him. There was something about the way Barty said it—too casual.
“Look, you can stand here, or you can take that off,” Barty said, looking at Evan’s shirt.
Evan sighed, already regretting every decision that had led to this moment. But standing around with his soaked shirt wasn’t an option. He shrugged off his jacket first, then hesitated before peeling his damp shirt over his head. The cold air hit immediately, sharp against his bare back. He didn’t rush as he tugged the shirt over his head; the scent of cologne and smoke settled around him.
When he looked up, Barty was watching him.
Shamelessly.
Evan raised an eyebrow. “You done?”
“No, you can continue.”
Evan scoffed, shaking his head. “Fuck off. ”
Barty grinned, propping himself up on his elbows. “Can you blame me? You walk into my room, put on my shirt, and expect me not to enjoy the show?”
Evan scoffed. “You’re drunk.”
Barty smirked. “Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
Evan rolled his eyes, tugging at the hem of the shirt, only half-listening as Barty continued to watch him, clearly entertained.
Then the door swung open.
“There you are—” Pandora started before stopping abruptly, her gaze flicking between Evan and Barty.
Evan froze mid-motion, still adjusting the shirt. Barty, unsurprisingly, looked entirely unbothered.
Pandora blinked, staring at them like she had just walked in on something. “What the fuck?”
Evan sighed, grabbing his jacket from the floor. “It’s not what it looks like.”
Pandora’s eyes flicked from Evan fixing Barty’s shirt to Barty, who was still lounging on the bed, looking way too smug. She opened her mouth, closed it, then shook her head. “You know what? We will talk about this later.”
Evan ignored her
“It’s almost midnight. Come on.” Pandora said while grabbing Evan’s wrist and pulling him towards the door. Behind them, Barty pushed himself off the bed, nearly losing his balance for a second before catching himself. He followed them by stumbling behind.
The living room was packed, the energy in the house shifting as people counted down the last seconds of the year.
“Ten!”
Evan exhaled, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.
“Nine!”
Pandora smiled at him, excitement in her eyes as the energy in the room grew.
“Eight!”
James and Sirius were laughing, one of them raising a half-empty bottle in a toast to the new year.
“Seven!”
Regulus stood near the back with Emmeline, both leaning against a wall nearby, barely paying attention to the countdown.
“Six!”
Across the room, Barty was in the center of it all, one arm draped over the back of the couch, drink still clutched in his other hand. His head tipped back in laughter, completely at ease.
“Five!”
A girl slid next to him, leaning into his space, her fingers brushing the fabric of his shirt in an almost teasing motion.
“Four!”
Another girl moved in from the other side, her knee brushing his.
“Three!”
Barty’s eyes flickered between the two girls, but he didn’t make any effort to pick one. His focus was scattered, as if he had already lost the energy of the party, but the girls didn’t seem to care.
“Two!”
Evan, still caught in the current of the party, barely spared Barty a glance. He already knew how this would play out.
“One!”
The room erupted into a chorus of cheers, voices blending in chaos, drinks spilling as people celebrated the arrival of the new year.
Barty’s eyes were on the girl to his right, and without hesitation, he pulled her in. Their lips met in a quick, casual kiss, nothing more than a casual moment, swallowed by the madness of the night.
As soon as he pulled away, he moved to the other girl, this one just as eager. She didn’t waste time, pulling him toward her, her lips crashing against his with a kind of urgency.
Barty didn’t care. He moved from one kiss to the next, as if it didn’t matter who was in front of him. As if it’s just part of the celebration and part of the night.
Evan didn’t react. It wasn’t surprising—Barty was a stranger, but he’d already seen enough of Barty’s behavior earlier to know nothing like this was serious. It was just another part of the night, another moment in the chaos.
But then, in the middle of the second kiss, Barty’s eyes flickered open, just for a moment.
His gaze landed on Evan as he kissed the girl, their mouths pressed together with a hungry urgency. The brief moment of eye contact felt sharp, the moment lingering longer than it should’ve. But when their eyes met, Evan didn’t see anything more than the same careless energy in Barty’s expression—like it didn’t matter at all who he was kissing or who was watching.
Evan didn’t hold the stare. He didn’t want to. The weight of it lingered longer than it should’ve. He forced himself to look away, shrugging off the moment and the chaos of whatever it was.
Emmeline, appearing beside him with a grin, leaned in close. “Shots?” she asked, voice just above the noise.
Evan hesitated for a second; a knot in his chest tightened. He didn’t want to think, didn’t want to feel. It was easier to just ignore everything.
Fuck it.
He shook his head as if trying to shake off the thoughts that clung to him. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go,” he muttered, forcing a grin as he followed Emmeline toward the kitchen.
The atmosphere shifted. Even though the house has an open layout, it felt more private. Emmeline grabbed a bottle from the counter. She poured the liquor smoothly into shot glasses, then handed one to Evan. “Here’s to New Year’s,” she said, lifting hers to him.
Evan clinked the glass against hers and knocked it back. The burn of the alcohol spread quickly, the warmth rushing to his chest. It wasn’t enough to drown out everything, but it was a start.
“Not bad,” Evan said, a little surprised at how smoothly the shot had gone down.
“Right?” Emmeline replied, looking more amused than anything.
Before Evan could respond, Barty appeared in the kitchen with a lazy smirk on his face. “Mind if I join you guys?”
Emmeline grinned, gesturing to the counter where 3 fresh shot glasses waited. “Sure”
They all took a shot together.
Barty didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the glass, knocked it back with ease, and set it down on the counter.
Emmeline glanced around at the growing crowd. “Well, I’m off to go hang out with the others.
Evan gave her a nod, and she disappeared, leaving him and Barty alone.
Barty’s attention turned back to the counter, and with a half-grin, he grabbed another shot. He raised the glass toward Evan.
Evan hesitated only for a second before grabbing his shot and tossing it back. The burn of the alcohol was familiar, but tonight it felt different. It wasn’t just for fun.
Barty poured another. And then another. Evan’s head started to spin and feel heavier with each drink. Barty seemed to be enjoying it, his grin widening as they downed shot after shot.
Soon enough, Evan could feel the edges of his thoughts blur, the noise in his head muffling everything else. He wasn’t sure exactly how many shots they’d taken by now, but he didn’t care.
Barty’s voice broke through the fog of his mind. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he moved toward the living room.
Evan’s vision was already a little hazy, but his eyes followed Barty anyway, and that’s when he saw it. Barty had approached the same girl from earlier—the one with dark hair. This time, it wasn’t just casual talk or anything. They were close, the kind of close that made Evan feel uncomfortable by watching. Barty’s hand rested on her lower waist. Their faces were inches apart, too close, the space between them charged with something deeper. There was no mistaking it this time. They were going somewhere with this, and Evan could already tell where.
His stomach twisted, a sharp, uncomfortable feeling shooting through him. It felt wrong to think like that about people.
His thoughts were interrupted when Pandora’s voice cut through the haze. “Evan, let’s go. You’re way too drunk.”
He blinked, his gaze still locked on Barty and the girl. Pandora stepped beside him, one of her hands at his elbow and the other on his back, which helped guide him toward the door. He didn’t argue. He couldn’t.
The air outside was cold, but it didn’t cut through the fog in his mind. He stumbled slightly, his thoughts racing with things he didn’t want to think about.
Pandora walked beside him, silent for a while. But Evan could feel her studying him.
It wasn’t until they were a few blocks down the road.
“So…” she said, breaking the silence.
“What happened earlier?” Her voice was soft but with an edge of concern.
Evan blinked, his brain still hazy from the alcohol. “What?”
“Why were you in Barty’s room? And why are you wearing his shirt?” Pandora said, glancing over at him.
Evan exhaled sharply, an irritated laugh slipping out. “Are you serious?”
Pandora just looked at him.
Evan rolled his eyes. “He bumped into me and spilled his drink on me. He let me borrow a shirt because mine was soaked.” His voice was sharper than it needed to be, but he was too drunk and too annoyed to care.
Pandora stayed quiet for a beat, her eyes scanning his face. Then, finally, she spoke. “That’s all?”
Evan clenched his jaw. “Yes, that’s all. What—what exactly are you getting at?”
Pandora didn’t answer right away, and that just pissed him off more. She had this look.
Like she was waiting for him to say something, like she thought there was more to it.
Evan scoffed, shaking his head. “You know what? Forget it. This is ridiculous.”
Pandora’s eyebrows lifted slightly, her tone still too careful. “I’m just asking.”
“Yeah? Well, don’t.” The words came out sharper than he intended, but he didn’t take them back. “I don’t know why you’re acting so weird about this. Like it’s some big deal. I got a shirt from your friend. End of story.”
Pandora’s lips pressed together, and Evan could feel her still watching him, like she was trying to piece something together that didn’t even exist.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling harshly. “It’s not like that.”
She didn’t argue. She didn’t say anything at all after that, just kept walking beside him in silence.
By the time they turned onto their street, Evan’s head was pounding, his body sluggish from exhaustion.
“You better hope Mom’s not awake.”Pandora muttered quietly.
He didn’t care.
But when Pandora pushed open the front door, Evan realized she was wrong.
Evan already knew they weren’t getting away with this.
The kitchen light was still on. Their mother stood by the counter, a mug of tea in her hands. She looked up immediately as they entered, her gaze flickering over both of them before settling on Evan.
She didn’t say anything at first, just looked. The kind of look that meant she was already piecing together the situation before they could say a word.
“Evan,” she said, her voice calm but edged with concern. “Come here.”
Evan exhaled sharply through his nose, already irritated. “Mom, I’m fine—”
“Come here,” she repeated, firmer this time.
Pandora shot him a look like she was warning him not to push it, but Evan was too drunk and too tired to deal with this. Still, he stepped forward because he knew she wouldn’t let it go otherwise.
His mother stepped closer, her eyes flickering over him, taking in every detail—his flushed skin, the redness in his eyes, the sluggish way he held himself. She didn’t say anything right away. Just looked at him, really looked at him, and somehow that was worse than if she had. He braced himself for some kind of disappointment, but instead, her expression just softened.
You’ve been drinking,” she said, her voice calm but edged with concern.
Evan huffed. “It’s New Year’s.”
His mother didn’t react to the attitude. If anything, her concern only deepened.
“Are you feeling sick?” she asked, ignoring his attempt to brush it off. “Do you need anything?”
Evan let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m fine.”
She didn’t look convinced.
She studied him carefully, like she was looking for something beneath the surface.
“We’ll talk in the morning,” she finally said, but it wasn’t a dismissal; it was a promise.
Pandora nodded, her voice smooth. “I’m gonna take him to his room.” Then, softer, “Good night, Mom.”
Before Evan could argue, she grabbed his wrist, tugging him toward the hallway.
As they moved out of their mother’s sight, she muttered, “You’re lucky she didn’t push it.”
Evan rolled his eyes, too exhausted to argue.
When they reached his room, Pandora finally let go. “Get some sleep, okay?”
She lingered for a second, like she was debating saying something else. “Evan—”
But he didn’t let her finish. He stepped inside and shut the door behind him without another word.