A New War Plan
Regulus was an idiot. He should have known better than to suggest meeting up with the Gryffindors at midnight when he got less than two hours of sleep the night before. He had hoped that he would’ve been exhausted enough to pass out as soon as his head hit his pillow, and he had, to a certain degree. But then he woke himself up out of a nightmare less than an hour later drenched in sweat. He didn’t get much sleep after that.
It was the hands that got to him. Even on his good days, Regulus doesn’t particularly like being touched, but on his bad days he quite literally can’t stand it. Knowing that that’s how he’s going to die, with creepy hands all over him, makes him want to vomit.
Regulus recognizes that it’s not the hands that are going to kill him, not directly. The water is the problem. But simply drowning wouldn’t be the worst way to go. Sure, it would be uncomfortable as his body fights not to open his mouth and let the water in. But then he’d run out of oxygen and human instinct would force him to. Maybe the water rushing into his lungs would hurt, but without any oxygen coming in everything would go black quickly enough.
That would be preferable to how he had always assumed he’d die, bleeding out under his mother’s wand. But at least his mother would be standing a few feet away from him as he died. At least the last thing he felt would be his own blood rather than an unwelcome touch.
Really, the best way to go would be to take too much dreamless sleep potion. As long as he locked himself properly in his room first, no one could touch him. He wouldn’t be in any pain. And then he could just float off into oblivion, or whatever might come next. Regulus prefers oblivion to the idea that he might have to live a second life of some sort.
The killing curse would be a close second. A little less peaceful, but quick and easy.
But Regulus couldn’t stop thinking about the hands so now he’s asleep on his feet and the Gryffindors haven’t even gotten here yet.
The Slytherins are sitting at the round table this time, rather than standing awkwardly near the door. Pandora and Evan are on one side of him, Barty and Dorcas on the other. Barty has been talking all day, rambling about random things– who’s dating who, which professor would be most likely to win in a fight against a bear, why chocolate croissants are the best things to ever have been invented by mankind. Barty doesn’t like quiet. Quiet leaves too much space to hear himself think.
On a normal day, he and Dorcas would be verbally sparring. Most people think they hate each other given the fact that they get into at least three shouting matches a day. They never correct the assumption, don’t feel the need to. No one else is entitled to that information. Of all of them, Dorcas is the one acting most like herself today, so she has been responding to him. But she’s just responding, she’s not fighting.
Regulus, Evan, and Pandora have all elected to go mute. Evan and Pandora have been literally inseparable for the last 24 hours. They’ve spoken to each other in hushed voices, but not anyone else. They don’t usually fall into the twin trap of doing everything exclusively together but they get a pass this time.
Regulus hasn’t spoken a single word since he talked to James after breakfast. He gets a pass too.
When the five Gryffindors show up, they enter the room as a unit, keeping the least amount of space between them as is possible without stepping on each other. They walk right to the table, sliding the five empty chairs closer together and taking their seats without any hesitation.
Regulus’s eyes go to Sirius. He just looks like Sirius. But Regulus is only ever this close to Sirius at Grimmauld Place where Sirius is always miserable and angry. He looks like Sirius Black, Regulus’s brother. He doesn’t look like James Potter’s best friend.
Sirius is looking back at him. Regulus doesn’t know what Sirius is seeing in him. He doesn’t want to know.
Nobody speaks.
I suppose I should probably say something, Regulus thinks. He doesn’t know what.
“I’m sorry,” he says, still looking at his brother. He never thought he’d be able to say the words, not say them and have them heard. But as it may turn out, they’re his last words and they went unheard then. At least his brother has heard them now.
Sirius winces but doesn’t look away. Sirius is still looking at him. As long as he’s looking at me, maybe everything will be okay.
“S’okay Reggie,” Sirius whispers. “We’re gonna do something about it, alright? You and me.” Regulus really doesn’t want to cry again, but if Sirius says anything else like that, he just might. Sirius can see that. So he fixes it. He always knew how to fix his little brother, even if he used that knowledge to hurt him instead. “The rest of this lot can help too, I guess,” he jokes. He leans back in his chair, swinging his feet up so they’re resting on top of the table and laces his fingers behind his head. He’s such an idiot, Regulus thinks, rolling his eyes as his lips curl up. “You do have a plan though, right? We both know I’m the beauty, not the brains.”
“Oh please,” Regulus says, “I’m the brains and the beauty. You can be the brawn though.”
“Oi!” Barty interjects. “That’s nepotism! I’m the brawn.” He flexes his arms and kisses his biceps. And suddenly they’re just ten kids laughing together, just like they should be. It’s like a fog has been lifted. Everything’s still shit, nothing’s going to change that, but it doesn’t seem as heavy now.
And maybe something can change that. That’s kind of the whole point right? They’re going to find a way to win. And Regulus thinks they just might have a chance. Neither Dumbledore or Voldemort think of children as rational, logical human beings capable of working for or against them in any way other than puppets on strings. They’re not going to know what hit ‘em.
“Sure Barty,” Regulus says. “Hate to break it to you though, brawn is not part of the plan.”
“Oh, Baby Black has a plan?” Lily challenges playfully
“Indeed he does.” And so Regulus tells them his plan.
Over an hour later, Regulus is still trying to explain his plan. It’s really quite simple, conceptually. The ten of them are going to learn legilimency and occlumency. And then they are going to use those skills to spy inside Dumbledore and Voldemort's heads until they learn something they can use against them. Simple.
“So we’re just going to casually become the greatest spies in the world?” Sirius asks sarcastically.
“Correct,” Regulus says.
“And once we get the golden piece of information through our amazing spy techniques, we’re going to do what, exactly?”
“I don’t know Sirius. That’s kind of the whole thing. We basically have no information. Nobody seems to have any information except for them and they’re not sharing. Knowledge is power and right now we have none.” Regulus snaps. He’s too tired for this. They’ve had this conversation at least five times already. He refuses to continue to go around in circles.
“That’s all I’ve got, alright?!” Regulus shouts. “If anyone else has a better idea, feel free to speak up.” No one does. “So we do this or we do nothing and we all end up dead before we’re forty. Are you in or are you out?”
“Geez Reggie,” Sirius says, holding his hands up in surrender. “We’re in. Take it down a notch.”
“Yeah of course we are,” James echoes. “Anything for you, Regulus Black.” James shoots him the patented James Potter Grin™ and wiggles his eyebrows.
Regulus does not give into his teasing, refusing to smile. “Good. The most important thing is that no one knows what we’re up to. Not anyone. I think we should all tell our heads of house we’re going home for the holidays, but tell our families we’re staying at school and then we hide out here and start practicing.”
“Reggie, are you sure you can do that?” Sirius asks, no more jokes, just utter concern. “They’re not just gonna let you—”
“I’ll deal with it,” Regulus stops him. And he will. Maybe by the time he goes home for the summer, his mother will have forgotten he didn’t come home for Christmas, it’s not like they really celebrate it anyways. But he knows that won’t happen. So he’ll deal with it.
Sirius lets it go, for now. Regulus knows that the conversation will come up again before he goes home for the summer. But if Regulus stays at Hogwarts with Sirius now, then he’s safe for the time being and his brother knows that, so doesn’t push.
Regulus looks at his fellow Slytherins, some of whom likely have different versions of the same situation. “Will you guys be okay if–”
“Yes, Regulus, we’ll be fine,” Barty says. “If you’re doing this, we’re doing this.” His other three housemates nod in agreement.
“You guys can all get out of Christmas with your families?” Regulus looks to the Gryffindors. They nod too.
“Anything for you, Regulus Black,” James teases again.
“Okay great!” Peter says quickly. “Can we go to sleep now then? No offense, but I’m exhausted.”
“Hear hear!” Barty yells. Regulus couldn’t agree more.