I Bet On Losing Dogs
The wind blows through his greasy hair, like the proud ruffling from the hand of a father he never got. His Hogwarts robes are billowing around him, and he huffs, stripping them off before they make a sail of him. He doesn’t want to be a sail. He wants to be a stone, falling, falling, falling, splintering, cracking against the earth.
The Astronomy Tower is 100 meters tall, and the ground is hard and frozen from the January weather. They haven’t had snow yet this year, so there’s nothing to cushion his fall. He’ll die instantly, no chance of survival.
It’s an exhilarating, liberating realization.
He stands on the creaky railing, on the outside of it. There is nothing to catch him when he falls… when he jumps. All he has to do is let go of the railing. He starts to uncurl his fingers from the metal; they stick from the cold, like they had begun to meld with the steel. How long has he been standing here?
Why is he hesitating? This is what he wants. This is the only way out— the only escape from his abusive father, from the bullying (the stupid Marauders, as they call themselves), from his own thoughts of guilt and self-hatred.
He called his best friend, his only friend, a Mudblood. He hadn’t meant to. It had just slipped out. Now, he was completely and utterly friendless and alone. Lily would never forgive him. He couldn’t even forgive himself.
Remembering that gives him the strength to let go to the railing, to relax his hands by his sides. He’s still balanced on the railing, his heels on the bottom rung of it, and the drop looms below him.
No chance of survival.
He takes a deep breath, his last breath, and prepares himself for the jolt in his stomach as he falls, for the pull of gravity, for the nothingness on the other side (does he believe in an afterlife? He isn’t sure, but if there is one, it has to be better than here. It has to be).
“What the hell?”
The voice barely registers before a hand is grabbing him by the back of his shirt and hauling him over the railing like a mother cat lifting a naughty kitten by the scruff. The minute his feet touch solid ground, the person lets go, and he isn’t prepared for solid ground, for safety, for life. He falls to the floor and sputters indignantly.
“How dare you—“ he starts, pushing himself to his feet and spinning around to see… “Regulus Black?”
“The one and only,” Regulus drawls. He has on his haughty Black facade, like he isn’t bothered by finding a person about to jump off the Astronomy Tower, but there’s a glint in his eyes, a glint of masked concern. He wants to ask, but asking would give up the guise of indifference. “What on earth do you think you were doing, Snape?”
Severus gestures flippantly to the railing and the 100-meter drop on the other side. “What does it look like?”
“It looks like stupidity.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Severus snaps.
“I know about what happened with Lily today, but that’s no reason to off yourself! Just because one girl doesn’t like you—“
“She was all I had!” The truth bubbles out of Severus like an overflowing cauldron. It had been building and building and building, all of the years of baggage. He had only told Lily a fraction of it before they came to Hogwarts. They barely talked, even before he called her a Mudblood. She was always with Mary MacDonald or the stupid Marauders. She had all but forgotten about him until he called her a Mudblood, and she had the nerve to act betrayed, like she hadn’t abandoned him first. Severus knew he shouldn’t have said it, but the hurt was overwhelming and he lashed out like the snake he was.
Now, he didn’t even have their fragile friendship. He had no one but himself, and he didn’t even like himself. Why would anyone else?
Regulus is taken aback by the confession that splinters the air, like Severus’s spine would’ve splintered on impact if Regulus hadn’t pulled him back. He blinks owlishly.
“What about Mulciber and Avery?” Regulus asks.
Severus scoffs. “They don’t care about anything but their own interests, and you know it. We don’t all have a Crouch or a Rosier like you.”
“So you’re alone right now,” Regulus says, “But you can patch things up with Lily-“
“No, I can’t. She’ll never forgive me for this,” Severus says, and his eyes dart to the railing, wondering if he can throw himself over before Regulus can stop him. “And even if she did talk to me, your brother—“ Severus spits like poison. “—and his gang of pranksters will never let me near her.”
Regulus is quiet for a moment. “He’s not my brother.”
Severus laughs, bitterly. “That’s what you’re focusing on?”
“Yes, because you’re not the only one who got abandoned by a Gryffindor. Did I cry about it? No. I made new friends who have my back. You can, too.”
Severus rolls his eyes. “We don’t all have your stellar social skills, Black.”
Regulus laughs, surprising Severus enough to look up and meet his eyes. “I literally grew up with Sirius and a house elf for company. I barely knew how talk to anyone when I got to Hogwarts. I could’ve let that stop me, but I didn’t use it as an excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse—“
“Yes, it is! Snape— Severus, you could have the friends you want, but you’re never going to know if you kill yourself.”
“Or I could spend the rest of my life alone,” Severus says, his voice flat and dead.
“Maybe,” Regulus admits, “But you’ll never know if you jump, will you?”
Severus leans against the wall and sinks to the floor. Regulus sits beside him.
“Your brother tried to kill me, you know?” Severus says. He half expects Dumbledore to pop out from no where and expel him for even mentioning the incident. Then, he’ll really have nothing.. But that was where all this started, where his and Lily’s relationship started to fracture beyond repair because how could she be friends with someone who tried to kill her other friend? Of course, she didn’t know, and Severus couldn’t tell her, but she knew about the bullying, and she still associated with Potter and Black and Lupin and the other one. Sitting in his room after the incident was the first time Severus thought of suicide.
“Not my brother,” Regulus says. “But it doesn’t surprise me. Sirius can deny it all he wants, but he has a sadistic streak. Just like our mother.”
“Potter had to save me,” Severus says. “I thought, you know, maybe he’s not so bad. But the first thing he did was tell me not to tell anyone, and I realized… he didn’t care about me. He just didn’t want Lupin and Black to get in trouble.”
“Lupin?” Regulus asks. “Thought he was the good one.”
Severus pales, realizing he’d said too much, but then, Regulus raises his eyebrows like he’d realized something..
“Oh, yeah, the werewolf thing,” Regulus says, like he’s just remembering when Severus could never forget.
Severus’s eyes widen. “You know?”
“It’s kind of obvious if you know what to look for,” Regulus points out. “Disappearing around the full moons, the sickly appearance, the scars, Lupin’s and his friends’ secrecy. I’m not an idiot like most of Hogwarts.”
It’s quiet for a moment as Severus takes that in.
“Sirius tried to feed you to a werewolf?” Regulus realizes. “I knew he was sadistic, but that’s too far, even for him. I’m surprised he hasn’t been expelled.”
Severus scoffs. “All Dumbledore said was to not tell anyone about Lupin’s… affliction.”
Regulus’s eyebrows shoot up. “A student almost gets murdered on his watch, and all he says is keep your mouth shut so the ones at fault don’t get in trouble. Talk about favoritism.”
Severus nods.
“I never liked Dumbledore,” Regulus says after a moment.
“Me neither,” Severus admits.
“Well, that’s something we can agree on, and our mutual dislike of Sirius Black,” Regulus says.
“Dislike? More like hatred,” Severus says.
Regulus is quiet.
“You can’t hate him, can you?” Severus realizes.
“No,” Regulus says after a moment, “But I wish I could.”
They’re quiet for a long time, listening to the howling of the wind and staring at the stars.
“Do you still want to die?” Regulus asks bluntly.
Severus thinks about it. “No,” he decides. “Then, Black and Potter and the other two would get what they want. I refuse to get them the satisfaction.”
Regulus smiles, dryly. “That’s the spirit.”
They wait there another moment, staring at the stars, before Regulus speaks again.
“Now, let’s go inside. It’s bloody freezing.”
It’s no secret that Severus Snape does not like the Weasleys. They’re annoying, overconfident, and abysmal at potions. His distaste for them had been cemented the first time Bill Weasley melted a cauldron in his classroom— yes, the first time. There were multiple occasions. Bill Weasley was much too confident for his liking, expecting an O for the bare minimum. Charlie Weasley had his head in the clouds— literally. His obsession with Quidditch was almost as constant as Oliver Wood’s, and Severus caught him day dreaming almost everyday. Fred and George Weasley were nightmares and the bane of Severus’s existence- enough said. Ron Weasley was friends with Saint Potter and tagged along on all of Potter’s escapades; that was enough reason for Severus to hate him. Ginny Weasley wasn’t too bad, but her crush on Potter brought Severus’s immediate dislike towards her. Anyone who associated with Potter had Severus’s dislike.
The only one Severus didn’t dislike was Percy Weasley. Severus didn’t like him by any means- he was still a Weasley- but the boy had a talent for potions and was always respectful and polite. He was a bit of a know it all, like Granger, but no more than some of the Ravenclaws. So yes, Severus could tolerate him.
Percy Weasley was confident, a bit overly so, and assured in his own knowledge. Severus had never expected this. Too be fair, no one had.
Severus had been teaching the fourth year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs and was scolding a Hufflepuff student for not getting the potion right. Severus was feeling particularly mean today, so he was about to take thirty points from Hufflepuff (excessive? Maybe. But Severus didn’t care) when the door opened.
“Have you ever heard of knocking—“ Severus snapped, whirling around, only to pause. “Professor McGonagall,” he said.
“Severus,” she stated, which took Severus aback. She never used his first name in front of the students. Now that he looked closer, he noticed how pale she was, and she gripped the door frame like she didn’t trust herself to stay standing. “Come with me. Now.”
Severus didn’t argue. Something was wrong. It likely had something to do with Saint Potter, but he had never seen Minerva so shaken before, not even when students were being petrified left and right the previous year.
“Continue with your potions. I better not hear any chatter!” Severus said, and he walked out of the room, dramatically flourishing his cape behinds him. He had to keep up his intimidating image, after all.
Once the door was closed behind them and they were alone in the hallway, Minerva said, “I need you to make more blood replenishing potion.”
Severus frowned. “I just made a whole batch for the hospital wing.”
“Poppy had to use all of it today,” Minerva said.
Severus raised an eyebrow. “Five vials? Why on earth would she need that much blood replenishing potion in one day?”
Minerva hesitated, like she didn’t even want to say it. “Percy Weasley tried to kill himself.”
Somewhere, a record scratched. Severus stared at Minerva in shock.
“Percy Weasley,” Severus said. “The overly confident, slightly pompous, self assured Head Boy? That Percy Weasley?”
Minerva narrowed her eyes. “Yes, Severus, that Percy Weasley.”
“Why would he—“
Minerva shrugged. “We don’t know. He’s in the hospital wing, and he lost a lot of blood. We need another batch of blood replenishing potion as soon as possible.”
“Of course,” Severus said. “I’ll dismiss the class and make it immediately.”
Severus hesitated, unsure if he should ask his next question.
“Minerva… if you don’t mind me asking, how did he…” Severus couldn’t finish.
Don’t say the Astronomy Tower, don’t say the Astronomy Tower. Severus knew the odds of surviving something like that.
“He cut his wrists,” Minerva said, and her voice shook slightly.
Severus nodded. “And his family?”
“His parents and siblings are with him now, as well as Miss Clearwater and Mr. Wood.”
Severus nodded again. Good, the boy had people with him. He didn’t have to rely on a random student that just happened to be on the Astronomy Tower at the right time.
“I’ll make the potion,” Severus said.
“Thank you, Severus,” Minerva said and went back down the hall, presumably towards the hospital wing. She’d likely spend a lot of time there until the boy was healed. Minerva cared deeply for her lions, and Severus tried to imagine himself if one of his snakes was in the hospital wing because of a suicide attempt. He wouldn’t stray far either.
Suicide attempts were hard enough. It’s harder when it happens to someone you’re responsible for, when it’s your job to prevent it.
Sometimes Severus hated being a professor.
Severus composed himself and opened the door to the potions classroom again, walking straight up the aisle to his desk. He faced the class, who all stared at him expectantly, some of them actually pretending to work now that his eyes were on them.
“Class dismissed,” Severus said.
A Ravenclaw raised their hand. “But sir, we still have an hour left of class.”
“Class dismissed!” Severus shouted, and no one argued this time, everyone scrambling out of their chairs, grabbing their things and fleeing the classroom like a vampire was on their heels.
Severus sat down heavily at his desk once the classroom was empty.
A suicide attempt had rocked Hogwarts yet again, and just like last time, Severus hadn’t noticed the signs, hadn’t been able to stop it.
Regulus’s usual seat at dinner is empty. As are Barty and Evan’s.
Severus sits alone for the first time in a year. Ever since Severus had tried jumping off the Astronomy Tower and Regulus had stopped him, Regulus had attached himself to Severus like a leech. Severus tried telling Regulus off, saying he didn’t want the other Slytherin’s pity, but Regulus was persistent. He sat with Severus at meal times, studied with him in the library, and talked to him in the halls. Barty and Evan were baffled by this but never questioned it, merely following Regulus but not in the henchman way Severus followed Mulciber and Avery. Just friends following their friend.
Severus thought Regulus would get bored eventually, but Regulus continued talking to him like they were… like they were friends. Severus decided to allow it. It was better than sitting alone.
(And every time Regulus sat with Severus or talked to him, Severus could practically hear Sirius gnashing his teeth across the great hall or across the corridor. That was enough reason to put up with Regulus’s pity.)
Except, after a while, it stopped feeling like pity and started feeling more genuine. Severus started talking more, seeking Regulus out more, and Regulus never seemed annoyed or put off by Severus’s presence. Severus would never admit it, but it was nice to have a friend.
But now, Regulus’s seat is empty, and so are Barty and Evan’s. Severus doesn’t think much of it at first, figuring Regulus got distracted with studying or reading in the library, and Barty and Evan are off snagging somewhere (they think they’re discreet. They are not).
Evan walks in halfway through lunch, and Severus can immediately tell something is off. Evan is pale and he’s walking faster than usual, speeding across the Great Hall. He doesn't come to the Slytherin table, instead continuing to the teacher’s table and immediately to Slughorn. A lot of people are watching in curiosity. Severus rolls his eyes. People are so nosy.
But even Severus can’t deny his own curiosity. He watches out of the corner of his eye as Evan whispers to Slughorn. Slughorn pales, almost as pale as a Hogwarts ghost, and immediately pushes back from the table and stands, walking faster than Snape has ever seen him move. He leaves the Great Hall as people whisper behind him, wondering what’s happening.
Evan ignores everyone and makes his way to the Slytherin table— or more specifically, to Severus.
“Come on, Reg’s in the hospital wing,” Evan says.
Severus frowns. “For what?”
“I’ll explain on the way. Just come on. We have to get Black.”
“But Black is in the hospital wing—“
“Sirius,” Evan clarifies.
Severus scowls. “Why would we—“
“Severus, I can’t explain,” Evan says, and he walks to the Gryffindor table while Severus stands and makes his way out of the Great Hall, ignoring the whispers behind him.
A moment later, Evan exits the Great Hall with a glaring Sirius by his side.
“What is this all about, Rosier?” Sirius asks, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow expectantly.
Evan takes a deep breath, and Severus notices how shaky he seems, like he’s going to be sick. Severus takes a discrete step back in case Evan decides to vomit.
“Regulus is in the hospital wing,” Evan says.
“You mentioned that,” Sirius says impatiently. “You didn’t say why. What is it? A Quidditch injury?”
Evan stares at the ground like it’s suddenly very interesting. He’s quiet for so long, Sirius opens his mouth to speak again, but before he can, Evan looks up and meets first Severus’s eyes, then Sirius’s.
“Regulus tried to kill himself,” Evan says.
The words are a sucker punch to Severus’s chest, and he stumbles back a step, hitting the wall behind him. Sirius goes as stiff as a statue.
“You’re joking,” Sirius says coldly. “And I don’t think it’s very funny.”
Evan shakes his head. “I wish it was. Regulus, he…” Evan stammers. “He cut his wrists. Barty found him.”
Sirius is clearly in denial. Severus is, too, but less obviously.
“No,” Sirius says. “No! Regulus wouldn’t do that. The stuck up prat is always going on about how great he is, and he’s always been Mother’s favorite. He hasn’t known any real pain—“
Severus whirls around and nails a punch to Sirius’s face, splitting his lip. Sirius stumbles back against the wall, holding his jaw.
“Shut. Up. Black,” Severus growls.
“I’m just telling the truth!” Sirius says.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about! You’re the one who hasn’t known any real pain,” Severus retorts.
“You don’t know anything about me, Snape—“
“Both of you, shut up!” Evan roars, and Severus is sure the whole Great Hall heard them through the closed door. “Regulus tried to kill himself. This isn’t about you two or your stupid rivalry. Grow up!”
Severus and Sirius are thoroughly chastised, both of them falling into silence.
“Before he passed out,” Evan continues after inhaling deeply to calm himself down a bit. “Regulus said your name, Sirius. That’s the only reason I’m telling you anything. You clearly don’t care, so you can just go back into the Great Hall.”
“I didn’t say—“ Sirius bursts out before lowering his voice. “I didn’t say I don’t care.”
“Than act like you do,” Severus scowls.
“Snape, you better shut your damn mouth before I—“
Evan raises his hand in a gesture to tell them to be quiet. He’s quickly running out of patience, and Severus wouldn’t be surprised if he walks away without telling them anything else. They fall into silence.
“Regulus also said, ‘Severus was right,’” Evan continues, and Severus’s blood runs cold. “I have no idea what that meant, but you and Regulus are friends, Severus, which is why I’m telling you.”
Severus knows exactly what Regulus was talking about, and he wishes he didn’t.
“Now, can you two be civil?” Evan asks. “At least temporarily? For Regulus?”
Severus and Sirius glance at each other. Could they do that?
Sirius and Severus only have one thing in common- Regulus.
“You can’t hate him, can you?”
“No. But I wish I could.”
Right now, Regulus is all that matters. Severus and Sirius could stop antagonizing each other long enough to help Regulus. They have to.
Severus isn’t so selfish as to let a stupid rivalry get in the way when Regulus’s life is on the line.
…
Regulus is even paler than usual, an almost blue tint to his glass skin. The white bandages around his wrists blend in perfectly with his skin tone. Regulus’s posture is always so stiff and straight, like a board. Now, his whole body is as limp as a doll’s, laying in a hospital bed.
Sirius approaches him first, and the first thing he does is grab the blankets falling around Regulus’s waist and pull them up to his chin.
When Sirius notices the confused expressions Severus, Evan, and Barty are giving him- and the knowing one Pandora is giving him- he shrugs, a little sheepishly.
“He’s always cold,” Sirius says, “And he’s probably even colder now because…” Sirius trails off.
Because of all the blood he lost.
Severus sits on one side of Regulus, Sirius on the other. Neither even glance at the other, their eyes only on Regulus.
Regulus doesn’t move. Madam Pomfrey said it would be a few hours before he woke.
“What happened to not crying about it, Reg?” Severus whispers.
The others glance at him, wondering what that means, but Severus doesn’t even glance at them.
Regulus knows what it means. That’s all that matters.
Percy Weasley has always been pale, as all the Weasleys are. Now, he’s almost translucent. His perfect posture is gone as he lies there, limp, like he isn’t even in there anymore. Like his body is just a shell.
Severus blinks, and it’s Regulus in the hospital bed. He blinks a second time, and it’s Percy again.
“Blood replenishing potion, Poppy,” he says to Madam Pomfrey, handing her the vials.
Madam Pomfrey nods. “Thank you, Severus.”
There were signs. There had to be.
As he did with Regulus, Severus finds himself combing through every interaction he ever had with Percy Weasley, through the first class where the redheaded first year sat in the front row and raised his hand for every question (Severus remembers thinking his brothers told him what questions Severus would ask and Percy Weasley memorized the answers to show off. Severus never changed the questions he asked on the first day because no first year ever knew the answers. It wasn’t long before Severus realized Percy hadn’t just memorized the textbook. He knew how to apply the things he learned), all the way to the potions class two days ago (Percy Weasley had handed in his essays for that day and… today, Severus realized. It wasn’t unlike Percy to work ahead, but he didn’t usually hand it in until the day it was due. This time was different, and Severus hadn’t thought anything of it.)
“Hemlock is highly poisonous,” Severus says. “The effects are immediate, and death occurs within nine minutes. There is no antidote, and the potion is immune to bezoars. All of that to say, if you mess around with this potion, it could mean certain death. So don’t be idiots.”
Percy Weasley stiffens in his front row seat, and he seems to be paying even more attention than he usually does. Severus finds it odd, but then, Wood starts to cut the hemlock instead of crushing it, and he gets distracted.
…
Percy Weasley’s sleeve rolls up in class, revealing a thin cut slicing across his wrist. It’s started to bleed.
Severus tells the boy to stop wielding the potions knife like a butter knife and to go get a bandage from Madam Pomfrey.
It’s only later that Severus realizes there’s no blood on the potions knife when he goes to clean it. The cut hadn’t been made with the potions knife.
…
Percy Weasley has his potions textbook open to blood replenishing potion, even though that isn’t what Severus is teaching. Percy is gripping the edge of the desk so tightly, his knuckles turn white.
A moment later, he passes out.
When the boy comes to, he tells Severus and his worried classmates that he had woken up late and hadn’t eaten breakfast. He just got dizzy, is all.
Severus doesn’t question it. He has a large syllabus to get through by the end of the year, after all. He can’t stop for every little thing. He goes back to teaching.
That same day, the ingredients for a blood replenishing potion go missing from his potions cabinet.
There were always signs, and just like Regulus, Severus had missed all of them.
Dear Severus,
Regulus went missing a few weeks ago. He’s been assumed dead. I thought you’d want to know before you found out in the newspaper.
—Evan Rosier
Severus rests the letter on his desk and stares vacantly into space.
Regulus is dead. People will assume Regulus got killed on a mission for the Dark Lord or that he’d gotten cold feet and been killed for it.
But Severus knows the truth. Regulus Black would not let himself be killed by the Dark Lord or the Death Eaters or an Auror or an Order member or anyone else.
Regulus Black would die just as he lived. On his own terms.
When Dumbledore approaches him after Lily died, asking Severus to be a spy, Severus says yes. For Lily and for Regulus, but most of all, for himself.
He is going to live on his own terms.