July 1976
Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy’s wedding was the most important event of the year in pureblood Britain. Fifteen-year-old Regulus Black, Narcissa’s youngest cousin and according to the family, her only first cousin, had dreaded the event for weeks. It forced him to think about his own wedding, which would likely be arranged in the next year or so. But he didn’t know what to do about that.
Regulus was under no illusions about his own sexuality, though thankfully the only person aside from himself who seemed aware of it was Dorcas Meadows, and she had told him she wouldn’t tell anyone. Mortifyingly, she had found him staring at James Potter, but she had told him she was bisexual and had started trying to tell him he was normal, and it was fine.
He obviously wasn’t normal or fine, but he appreciated Dorcas’s insistence to the contrary. He kept waiting for her to blackmail him, but she didn't. Perhaps she genuinely was a better type of person than anyone in his family could be, anyone other than—
He would need to marry soon, and he wasn’t sure how to avoid it, how to avoid having to subject some woman to a loveless marriage. He was under no illusions that he was a good person, but still he winced to imagine the disappointment Sirius would feel for that woman.
It wasn’t as though Sirius was likely to find out how much of a disappointment he would be to his future wife. He wasn’t privy to Pureblood gossip anymore, Regulus was fairly certain. He still felt guilty about that every day. The same conversation played out with Pandora time after time.
“They almost killed him,” he would say. “They almost killed him and I didn’t do anything.”
She would reply, “You moved the floo powder to where he could get to the Potters. That’s not nothing. He made it out.”
“I heard Potter tell Lupin he was blacked out for two days after, even with Potter’s mother’s healing.”
“You’ve both suffered worse. You suffered worse at the same time. And he’s out now. It’s you I’m more worried about at the moment.” He studied her face. He knew she knew what he was thinking, and she wouldn’t let him say it, wouldn’t let him tell her it was fine if he died, was tortured; it was all he was good for…
“You know how it works. You do it too. I’ll only have a bit more scrutiny because I’m the heir now. I can handle it. At least I had a period of relative ignominy first. I know how to be more careful than I did when I was younger.”
Pandora Lestrange knew almost everything about him—everything except his sexuality, and it always surprised him how little she seemed to care about his darkest secrets. The first thing he had admitted to her, at the age of 11 when he was taken to her family’s home to do lessons with her once Sirius was at school, was that he sometimes feared he would be put in Ravenclaw.
“I’ve worried the same thing,” she had replied. “They’d never trust me again. They wouldn’t punish me, since they’ve always taught me to be obedient, and I’ve always demonstrated that I took that to heart most in my lessons. I don’t suppose that would work for you, though…”
Regulus then opened up more. “I think they might kill Sirius and me. I’m afraid. The hat is supposed to see who you really are. That’s what makes it awful that they’re punishing Sirius. Bellatrix said as soon as it touched his head, it yelled Gryffindor. She said that as if it condemned him in the worst way. But he didn’t even have a chance to argue with it. It just said who he was, and now he’d never have a chance at peace in our house, even if he wanted it.”
“Well, we’re both better at acting our parts than he is. Merlin willing, we’ll have a chance to argue with it.” It was the first time she had acknowledged to him that she was acting a part, and he accepted that declaration without comment, tucking that away for future reference.
They spent months sneaking into Lestrange family library whenever unsupervised to read about the workings of the hat. Their tutors also permitted them to read Hogwarts, A History, so that they would be as much more completely knowledgeable as possible than the students of less noble background. In the end, they had both found ways of presenting their truest natures as in fitting with Slytherin values, in Regulus’ case: “My truest ambitions will be best served by appearing ambitious,” and in Pandora’s: “The dearest knowledge I have gained has been through cunning and secret.”
But the wedding finally came, and Regulus ended up dancing with Pandora after the ceremony was over. They had taken dancing lessons together, so it was second nature to them at this point. The orchestra was playing loudly, and she cast a silencing charm around him. He looked at her, wondering what she was going to bring up this time.
“Regulus, do people actually fancy each other? Or is it all made up?”
Barely moving his mouth under the silencing charm, he managed to laugh. “Cissy and Lucius? I think so, but I don’t really understand it. Definitely more than Bella and your brother. Bella was a bit of a fanatic about the idea of an arranged marriage. Said it would be best for the bloodline, so I’m pretty sure that’s all she cares about.”
“I mean in general, is it real? Or is everyone faking?”
He pursed his lips. Pandora wondered if all attraction was faked? She had never mentioned fancying anyone to him, but then, he had never brought up the subject with her for obvious reasons. “Merlin, Pandora, the things you think. No, some people definitely fancy each other.”
“How do you know? Have you ever fancied anyone?” she asked, sounding genuinely curious.
He raised his eyebrows at her, almost smirking. If she didn’t ever fancy anyone, he might be able to marry her without damning anyone to life without love. That is, she might already be as damned as he was. He shouldn’t have found comfort in that, but he wasn’t a good person, and he could already feel himself celebrating this possibility that he might not be truly alone in the world. “Yes.” He paused. “Have you not?”
“No. I tried to fancy Evan, since he asked me to Hogsmeade. But I don’t think I’ve ever fancied anyone.”
“Oh, I remember how much you blushed when he asked you! Barty thought I would be so mad at Evan.” Regulus had assumed that Pandora and Evan would end up together. They were the most tolerable people he knew, so they made sense together in a way. When Evan had asked Pandora to Hogsmeade, Regulus thought Pandora was only saying no to see if he would persist. He didn’t see how they wouldn’t end up together. And then he had had the horrible thought: what if Pandora fancied him and was hoping they would end up together?
It was what their families would want, after all. They would accept it if Evan and Pandora wanted to marry; they were both from good families. But a Black and a Lestrange would be the best match; that was why Bella and Rodolphus had married.
“Why?” she asked.
This type of question from Pandora made him hope that even if she didn’t fancy Evan, she might not fancy him, either.
“He thinks we fancy each other,” he said. “But it didn’t work, when you tried to fancy him?”
“No, I mean it would have been fine to go to Hogsmeade with him, of course. But I thought I was only supposed to say yes if I preferred to be alone with him. And I’d rather be with Dorcas and you too.”
Regulus nodded, unsure how to broach the topic. “I don’t think we really can choose to fancy people. Merlin knows I’ve tried not to fancy certain people… Anyway, we’re still pretty young, I suppose. Do you feel like you know you will never fancy anyone?” He knew, when he was honest with himself, that he would never fancy a woman. Perhaps she knew something similar about herself.
“I don’t know that I won’t,” she replied, slowly. “But I guess I’m afraid of never fancying anyone. You and Evan and Dorcas will all fall in love, and I’ll be alone, stuck in an arranged marriage to some brute we’re cousins with in sixty different ways... Though my mother wants me to marry you.”
As though he wouldn’t be stuck in an arranged marriage with some cousin he felt nothing for! “Well, I know I won’t fall in love with anyone I could marry.” Regulus glanced at the floor, suddenly resolved for Pandora to know everything. If she hated him for it, so be it; that would be his fate. He would end up married to someone like Cunegonde Crabbe who would resent him for his lack of affection and the lack of children their marriage would produce. “I promise. My best outcome is to marry you, frankly; if, when the time comes, you haven’t fallen in love with anyone else, we might as well.”
“Did you just tell me you don’t fancy me but then propose to me anyway? And at our cousins’ wedding, Regulus Black?”
He wouldn’t have called it a proposal himself, but if she didn’t hate him for it when he explained more, then effectively, it might have been one. “Sure, Pandora,” he glanced around them, steeling himself to make her understand him fully. “On the hypothetical assumption that neither of us ever succeeds in finding someone to our fancy,” he paused again “…of the opposite sex.”
She nodded, and he could tell she saw piecing things together in her head. “I think our parents tried to set us up, actually,” she murmured. “Your mother came to our manor, the winter before first year, and started talking about your uncle Aphard, and how you and… er, how you had displayed some similar traits to him when he was young. They said it was too late to influence S—“ she stopped again. “They said they only might have a chance at changing you. That was just before you came to visit for the winter and we started doing our lessons together.” He watched her face for her reaction, but she looked unperturbed, just mildly satisfied that she had been able to understand events that previously hadn’t made sense to her.
“And thus ended the worst three months of my life, all as a ploy to make me fall in love and perpetuate the bloodline,” Regulus said, full of relief. “Not that I don’t love you, Dora.”
The first three months after Sirius had left for Hogwarts had been hard on Regulus. When he first arrived at the Lestrange manor he would almost fall asleep during their lessons—Latin, Greek, German, French, pureblood history, piano, and dancing—haggard from hunger and pain. He wore a turtleneck the first three weeks there to hide the gashes from his mother’s punishments. Sirius had to some extent acted out before to shield Regulus from punishment, but in his absence, he suffered punishment for every new knowledge of Sirius’s rebellion Bellatrix brought them. Regulus was still barely able to look at Bellatrix.
“Well, it’s a deal,” Pandora said, “Fiancé.” She kissed his cheek. He didn’t think she would have done that if she despised him now. She might fall in love in the next year, of course, but selfishly he hoped that she wouldn’t, that he would be able to end up with someone who seemed to expect so little from him in marriage.