From the moment he was born, Regulus was doomed. As the heart of the lion, he was the slain, the sacrifice.
Born into a home of snakes, danger lurked around every corner.
Walburga and Orion
His mother, once an enchanting beauty, now a demon born from her own envy and distaste, stands, her face stiff and cold, awaited, a cane in her hands.
His father, a strapping figure with black hair and matching eyes, a businessman of sorts, always shut up in his office while a number of guests visited the house, all in long, black cloaks, much like Death.
Young Regulus always hid from them, while Sirius egged him on, laughing hysterically.
Sirius
His biggest regret.
His brother
Older than him by a year, he was reckless and brave, in all the ways Regulus was not. He provoked their mother endlessly, as if it was all a sport.
He was loud and bubbly, whereas Regulus was quiet and small.
He was everything Regulus was not.
Sirius made living in the house bearable. They played games in the garden and Sirius protected Regulus whenever he got in trouble.
At a kid, Sirius felt like Regulus’s personal knight. A shield from the world. Sirius was Regulus’s Lancelot.
How foolish he was, to think it would last forever.
When Regulus was ten, a large owl soared into the dining room, dropping off a shiny letter.
Hogwarts
How it hurt to see Sirius leaving him.
Though he knew that the day would come when Regulus’s own letter would arrive, it was pure torture for the first week when Sirius was away.
Sure, he had other friends, the Rosier twins, but there wasn’t anything that could compare to Sirius.
The Rosier Twins
Evan and Pandora looked like angels, with pale skin, light, curly blonde hair, and soft eyes. In short, they were beautiful. Even 10-year-old Regulus knew that.
Pandora was mysterious and dreamy, though she was very sweet in her own way, while Evan was more open with his feelings but sweet all the same.
The two siblings often came over, while their father conversed with Orion behind closed doors.
They were his only companions, and likewise, as there was few their age and deemed proper enough for Regulus’s company.
James Potter
Regulus heard about James Potter before he even met him.
On Christmas break, when Sirius came home, he was a disgrace. A Gryffindor. The bruises on Sirius’s body were still there after the whole winter break, even after the repeated icings of frozen peas by a tearful Regulus.
Not only that the beating didn’t teach Sirius his lesson, whenever he opened his mouth, it was always, James this or James that. Call him selfish, but Regulus hated the gleam in his brother’s eyes whenever he spoke of James Potter.
Right then, in his 10-year-old heart, Regulus decided that he hated James Potter.
Hogwarts
It was a sunny morning when a barn owl swooped in with his letter from Hogwarts.
Excitement filled his body, his dreams of magic finally fulfilled.
He remembered rereading the letter over and over again.
It was all for him. No one could take it away.
Diagon Alley
It was crammed full of buildings, but filled with warmth. Laughter sounded through the air and wizards and witches of all kinds mingled on the streets, weightless and joyful.
To be a bird, to fly high, is one of Regulus’s biggest dreams. To escape from his cage, the door unlocked, finally allowed to spread his wings….yes, it’s a deep desire.
Unlike the teenagers at the height of youth, Regulus was dressed meticulously in a black suit, with his mother by his right, and Sirius by his left. Sirius was unusually tense today, probably from the beating last night.
That’s when he first sees James Potter.
At twelve years old, James Potter’s not much to see, but there’s just something about him that knocks the breath out of Regulus. James Potter is tall and lanky, with pale skin, curly black hair, bright brown eyes, and round glasses almost bigger than his entire face. His mother, Euphemia Potter, is by his side, a large smile on her face as she converses with her son.
They’re rounding the corner when James slams into Regulus, and he’s just so solid and warm, against Regulus’s chest. They’re only touching for a second before Walburga pulls him back, but time seems to slow down.
Regulus doesn’t remember much, but he vividly recalls the argument that ensued between Walburga and Euphemia, and the sympathetic glance James flicks his way as he leaves. James’s presence is like the sun, warm and bright.
The Train
Walburga has a death grip on his wrist (he’s not sure when he stopped calling her Mother), and her falcon-like nails are digging into his skin, sure to leave bruising, red marks.
As they walk onto the platform, Walburga hisses into his ear the consequences of not getting sorted into Slytherin, and turning out like his brother.
Sirius has already escaped onto the train, dismissed with a single, bruising press on the wrist.
Yes, Mother Regulus obediently replies, while she whispers Toujours Pur under her breath.
The Black family motto.
Always pure, in French, no less.
The Train Compartment
Remus Lupin, a straggly-looking boy, with light brown hair and gentle brown eyes. He has a few scars around his body, carefully hidden, but there.
James Potter, he dismisses, ignoring the jump in his chest.
Peter Pettigrew, a round, short boy with blonde hair and blue eyes. He fidgets in his seat, as if in danger.
These are Sirius’s friends of Gryffindor Tower, and his brother quickly introduces Regulus to them with a “This is my baby brother, Reg,”
Regulus simply nods and he manages to stick around for a few more minutes before he leaves to go find Evan and Pandora.
Barty Crouch Junior
When Regulus stumbles across Pandora and Evan’s compartment, he’s surprised to find another boy with them. The stranger has straw blonde hair, freckles on his milky-white skin, and dark brown eyes.
Call me Barty he says, a smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Regulus quickly learns that Barty hates his father, but loves his mother, and hopes to be in Slytherin, although his father wishes for him to be in Ravenclaw.
You know why? Barty asks, his teeth flashing, Because green’s a much better color than blue,
The Sorting
Regulus stands stiffly, shoulders pushed back and head held high, like a true Black, as he and the other first-years wait in line to get sorted.
Alderton, Wilhelmina a heavy-jawed girl, is called first and she takes her seat confidently.
The Sorting Hat murmures for a few seconds before shouting, “SLYTHERIN!” Majority of the houses grimace, the Gryffindors shout and jeer obnoxiously, while the Slytherins smirk and clap.
After Wilhelmina sits down at the Slytherin table, Professor McGonagall, a middle-aged witch who’s supposedly the Transfiguration professor, calls his name, Black, Regulus and he confidently strides up to the stool, hiding his trembling hands in his robes.
The Sorting Hat hummed Another Black? I recall your brother, Sirius, got placed in Gryffindor. Would you like to join him in the lion’s kingdom or the rest of the Blacks in the snake’s den? Though, you’re certainly lacking the recklessness, but I sense your deepest desire, to join young Sirius Black. But fear not, you’ll find your true mates in SLYTHERIN!”
And just like that, Regulus is a Slytherin. Breathing a sigh of relief, he takes his seat across from Wilhelmina, and next to a beaky-nosed, long-haired boy.
Next in line, is Barty, and after a long five minutes, he joins Regulus at Slytherin, to the scoffing of the boy next to him, who jeers Took you long enough. What, did the Sorting Hat consider you a Hufflepuff? He laughs unpleasantly, and Regulus immediately develops a strong sense of hatred. Next to him, a beefy-looking body laughs and snarls Good one, Sev
To this comment, ‘Sev’ straightens and says self-righteously, I told you, Avery, only Lily calls me that. From now on, call me Severus.
Regulus immediately records Severus as a potential ally, maybe a minion.