Chapter 2
1976, October 29th - Evan
“What are we doing for Pandora’s birthday?” Barty asks as he lies half on the edge of his bed, his head dangling off the side.
“Hm?” I reply absently, making shapes in the air with my wand tip, which is glowing bright green, much like the streak in Barty’s hair.
“Her birthday, Ev. It’s tomorrow, isn’t it?”
I sigh and inhale another lungful of smoke, blowing it out directly into Barty’s upside down face. He coughs and sits up, spinning to face me. I grin, the cigarette dangling from my fingertips.
“Arsehole.” Barty tries to swipe the joint from my hand. “You’re killing yourself with that thing.”
“Might as well. World’s going to shit anyway.”
Barty sighs and moves to sit beside me on my bed. He gives me a serious look that I find absolutely hilarious. “You are high. Give me that and go dunk your head in ice water or something.”
I groan as he takes the cigarette from me. “You’re no fun.”
“Just because I find the idea of painting my lungs in smoke and giving myself muggle diseases disgusting?”
“Yes.”
Barty snorts and tosses the half-burned stick up in the air. “Incendio,” he says, pointing his wand at it as it falls. By the time it hits the ground, all that remains is a tiny pile of ash.
“Showoff,” I mutter. Slowly, the haze in my mind begins to wear off.
“So,” Barty says, pulling his legs up to sit cross legged on the bed, facing me. “Pandora. Birthday. Thoughts?”
“She’d hate a big party.”
“I know.”
“What does that leave?”
Barty chewed on his lower lip in thought for a moment. “Well I guess we could just have a small thing in the dorms.”
“Does that mean we could skip the Halloween party?” I make a half-hearted attempt to keep the hope out of my voice.
Barty groans and flops backwards onto the bed. “Merlin, I forgot about that! Why does her birthday have to be on Halloween?”
“Oh I see, so you’re all considerate until it gets in the way of you spending a night fucking around?” I ask, amused. Barty raised his middle finger towards me. I laugh, lying down beside him. He turns his head to face me, blue-green eyes flickering down to my mouth. I roll my eyes slightly, smirking.
“Slut,” I whisper.
“Mm shut up,” he replies, leaning in to capture my lips.
It’s ridiculous, really, how easily Barty can wipe my mind of any stray thoughts with one kiss. I find myself reaching up to cup his face as he grabs my waist, pulling us both up so that we’re sitting again. I tilt my head back slightly, allowing him to deepen the kiss, my mouth opening without hesitation. Because there is never any hesitation for him. Because I’m completely and utterly defenseless against him. I feel him smile against my lips, and an involuntary shiver runs down my spine. He pulls away and I chase his mouth, eliciting a laugh and a hand against my chest, holding me back.
“Who’s the slut now?” Barty says, his voice low as his eyes lock with mine.
“Bartyyy,” I practically whine. Embarrassment is something we’ve (mostly) moved on from by now. He shakes his head, amusement dancing in those eyes.
“You’re still high.”
“Am not.”
“Are too. Anyway, dinner’s probably starting now.” He leans in and kisses me once more, quick and chaste. “Come on.”
***
1976, October 30th - Barty
Regulus is distracted. By what, I can’t figure out yet, but I will. Eventually.
I toss a grape at him across the table. “Hey. Earth to Reggie. Hello?”
Regulus blinks, his gaze redirecting to me. “What?” He snaps. I grin.
“Someone’s angsty today. Did you cry yourself to sleep last night again?”
“Fucking hell, Barty, why are you such a prick?” Regulus asks, annoyance evident in his tone as he runs a hand through his hair. The blow lands harder than it should have. I clear my throat, focusing again on my food.
“Sorry.” Evan’s leg knocks against mine under the table and I glance at him. He isn’t directly looking at me, but his eyes flicker to mine. He smiles, and something inside me melts. Something that I’d rather not dig into further.
Evan and I aren’t together. Not properly. We never have been. Our relationship, whatever it is, is built solely around the fact that we both need somebody to lean on sometimes, somebody to be our anchor. Someone who feels like home when our real families don’t. That’s always been it, always been what we both want. We aren’t idiots. We talked about this stuff, back when we realised that kiss in the middle of summer wasn’t going to happen only once. I don’t deny that my attraction to him is real, but it’s never been more than that. And I doubt it will ever be.
School is a fucking drag. There are so many more productive things I could be doing right now, like getting in a petty duel with Regulus’s arsehole brother, or making out with the boy next to me in a supply closet. The possibilities are endless, and yet I’m stuck in Transfiguration with McGonagall staring me down.
“Evan,” I whisper. He ignores me. I kick him under the table. “Evan. Ev. Darling. Sweetheart. Light of my life.” He rolls his eyes.
“What?” He hisses finally.
“I’m bored.”
Evan sighs, leaning his head in his hands, elbows propped up on the desk. “You’re exhausting.”
I smirk at him. “I hope you mean in the fun way.”
Evan glares at me, but I don’t miss the slight blush that rises to his cheeks. I lean back in my chair, attention wandering.
“I expect an essay on the vanishing technique by next lesson. At least two pages,” McGonagall says as the class begins to finish. There’s a collective groan that the professor completely ignores. I stand up and tug a strand of Evan’s hair playfully as I walk past him. Approximately two and half seconds later, I feel the exact same thing happen to me, but much harder, causing me to yelp in pain. Evan brushes past me and I catch a glimpse of the smirk on his face. Oh that won’t do. That won’t do at all. I chase after him, and he starts running, laughing as he goes.
“You’re dead Rosier,” I shout.
“Only if you catch me Crouch!”
It’s a solid three minutes before I finally corner him, out of breath in an empty classroom.
“You’re… ridiculous…” he says between inhales.
“You’re the one who tried to hide,” I reply, taking a few steps towards him with a grin. “Coward.”
“Sadist.”
“Gorgeous.” He raises an eyebrow at me, and I shrug.
“I think you greatly misinterpreted the theme of the conversation,” he says as I move closer. While we are fairly similar in height, he’s slightly taller than me, so I find myself looking up at him. It’s an endless cause of irritation.
“I don’t think the conversation was all that important,” I say, my voice low and soft.
“No?”
“No.” I lift myself up ever so slightly on my toes to even our height, my hands reaching up to the back of his neck.
Every time I kiss Evan it’s like something lights up inside me. It’s one of those things I dismiss, choosing not to think about it too hard. If I think about it, about the way he makes me feel, it all gets more complicated. It’s been the same for over a year now. This routine, this place we’re in, it’s safe. It’s normal.
He melts instantly, his hands moving to rest on my waist as he kisses back. I let my teeth gently tug on his lower lip, relishing in the soft sound of surprise he makes. A year of this and he still can’t predict me.
He pulls away for breath after a long moment. I follow his gaze to the open door of the classroom.
“Barty-”
“What? Scared of being caught, gorgeous?” I tease, tilting his face back to me with one finger on his jaw.
“Kinda,” he says with a smirk. “Who wants to be seen with the likes of you?”
I gasp in mock offence, a hand against my chest. “You wound me.”
“Uh huh.” Evan pulls out his wand and waves it towards the door. I hear it slam and the lock click. “There,” he says. “A little more private.”
I smile as he kisses me again, and again, until my heart is racing and my mind is reeling and my entire body feels warm.
Safe, a voice whispers in my mind. You’re safe here.
***
James
Regulus Black has never been someone I gave much thought to. I have a list of facts in my head about him, and for five years, that’s been enough.
- He’s Sirius’s younger brother (whom Sirius still loves, despite his efforts to convince himself and everyone otherwise).
- He’s much quieter than Sirius, but also kind of a prick.
- He’s on the wrong side of the war.
Simple, easy. I don’t need anything else to know that he’s not someone I should befriend, or interact with beyond supporting Sirius. However, since the other night, I have a completely insatiable curiosity in the younger boy.
It’s incredibly inconvenient, and also ridiculous. I shouldn’t care about him at all. He chose the Black family, he will choose Voldemort. That’s Sirius’s verdict, anyway. So Regulus shouldn’t matter.
Except he surprised me.
In the Astronomy tower, Regulus upended almost every assumption I’ve ever made about him, about his personality. Never in a million years would I have expected him to help me, to be (mostly) civil to me in an actual conversation. So, I suppose my shock and curiosity are understandable. But that still probably shouldn’t justify what I’m doing now.
I climb the Astronomy tower stairs with an eagerness I shouldn’t feel. I should turn back. I really should. This is stupid. What would Sirius think? I’m basically betraying him by doing this. However, I don’t stop, spiraling up and up until I finally open the door that leads out onto the open top of the tower. I pause in the doorway, staring at the boy sitting cross legged on the stone, staring up at the sky. He didn’t notice me arriving, just like last time.
“So it’s common for you to skip out on sleep in order to stare at the sky while talking to yourself?” I say. Regulus twists his head to look back at me, and I notice that his wand has slid into his hand. However, he seems to relax slightly once he realises who I am. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
“You’re back,” he says, voice devoid of emotion as he looks back up at the blanket of stars.
“I am.”
“Another school thing?”
Ah, shit. I knew there was a flaw in this plan - if you can call it a plan, that is. I fumble for a plausible excuse for being here, before finally parroting back his own words to him.
“It’s not actually any of your business.” I wince at how pathetic it sounds in this context. From this angle, I can just make out the small smirk that tugs at his lips.
“Fair enough.”
After a moment of deliberation (in which every voice of reason screams at me to just turn around and leave, and I blatantly ignore them), I move forward to sit down. Not… next to Regulus, but… adjacent to him. There’s a difference. Obviously. He glances at me, and I’m struck - like I am every time I see his face - by how similar he looks to Sirius. The same dark hair, though Regulus’s is shorter, the same pale skin and grey eyes. The same ethereal beauty that seems plain unfair to the rest of the world. So similar in looks, but they couldn’t be more different inside.
Regulus sighs, his tone annoyed. “What do you want, Potter?”
“Are you going to tell me why you come here?” I ask.
“Why should I?”
I shrug. “Because I’m curious. If you don’t tell me tonight I’ll just come back again. I bet I can get you to say it eventually.”
He raises an eyebrow at me. “Oh really?”
I nod confidently. “I can be quite convincing.”
“I’m sure you can.” He looks away from me again, and I think I can see the stars reflected in his eyes. Maybe I’m imagining it. The silence stretches on for too long. I don’t like silence.
“What are you looking at?” I ask when I get too impatient. Regulus sighs again and rolls his eyes.
“You’re incredibly annoying. Go away.”
“No.”
He meets my gaze, frustration evident in his expression. I grin at him. “Merlin Potter, what’s wrong with you? We aren’t friends.”
“I know. But like I said the other night, you aren’t what I expected. So now I’m curious.”
Regulus shifts so that he’s facing me fully, surveying me with a look that makes me feel like I’m being picked apart before his eyes.
“And what did you expect?”
I swallow, suddenly uncomfortable with his full attention. Idiot. This was a terrible idea. I shrug again. “I don’t know. A future Death Eater? Singing Voldemort’s praises at every opportunity? More of an arsehole? Definitely not someone who’d help me with homework.”
Something akin to amusement dances in Regulus’s eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t live up to your expectations,” he says dryly. I smile.
“Ah, so you do have a sense of humour.”
Another eyeroll. “And you have too much of one. Everything’s a joke in the world of James Potter.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t think you knew me all that well.”
“Please, the whole school knows you.” Regulus waves a hand irritably. “The four of you are like celebrities.”
“You flatter me.” I grin, leaning forward so that my chin rests on my hands, elbows propped up on my knees in my cross legged position. “So, you really going to stay so secretive?”
Regulus huffs. “I don’t owe you answers, Potter. Until tonight, you’ve been anything but civil to me in the few interactions we’ve had over the years.”
I wince. “Yeah. Well…” I chew on my lower lip, wondering if I should apologise. I still don’t really like Regulus. I’m curious about him, but he still chose his parents over Sirius. Not much of a green flag in my book. “Sirius,” I say finally, by way of explanation. He breathes out slowly.
“Yeah. Sirius.” His eyes slide away from mine, staring off into space. He looks… sad. I don’t know what I thought would happen when I brought up his brother, but I didn’t anticipate sadness. My next question burns in my throat, begging to be asked.
“Why didn’t you say yes?” I burst out. Those grey eyes snap back to mine, as if brought back to reality.
“What?”
“To his offer. When he asked you to leave.”
Silence. Regulus’s expression turns cold. “So that’s why you’re here. To make me change my mind. Merlin, Potter, why do you have to be so self-righteous?”
“I-” I blink at him. “No, that’s not- I’m not here on behalf of Sirius.”
Regulus scoffs. “So why ask then?”
“Because I’m curious!”
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
“Good thing cats have nine lives,” I shoot back. Regulus lets out something that's a mix between a laugh and a groan.
“You’re so fucking annoying.” He sighs. “I said no because I don’t have a choice, Potter.”
“Bullshit. Sirius said -”
“Sirius doesn’t know anything!” It’s the first big show of emotion I’ve gotten from the boy. I stare at him, shocked. He runs his hands down his face, suddenly looking exhausted. “Sirius doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand how easily they let him go. I presume you know how he clashed with our parents? How every conversation became an argument? How she fucking hurt him because he never fell into line?”
I can hear the pain in Regulus’s voice. I can imagine him, just a kid, watching his older brother being abused time and time again by their mother. Watching the scars Sirius had shown me be formed by her cruel magic. And I can imagine how heartbreaking it would’ve been to watch Sirius continue to fight, only to be beaten down time and time again. I remember how it had felt the first time my best friend came home from the holidays with bruises and scars. I remember begging him to just try not to anger her, to just keep his head down. I can imagine Regulus doing the same. And Sirius never listening.
“Well,” Regulus continues with a humourless, pained laugh. “You can see how they didn’t have the best relationship.” He idly traces patterns with his finger on the stone floor, not meeting my eyes. “When he left, our mother was angry. But I remember exactly what she said. ‘Let him go! Let him leave this family. He stopped being part of it a long time ago.’ She didn’t come after Sirius because by him leaving, he stopped being a thorn in my mother’s side. But the Blacks need an heir, Potter. You have to understand that. I can’t leave, because unlike Sirius, they need me. I can’t run, because she’ll just chase me and drag me back to that house.” He looks up at me, a sad smile on his face. “Despite what he may think, what he may tell you, I don’t blame Sirius for leaving. But he has to come to terms with the fact that I can’t.”
I blink slowly, taking in all that information. I’m still on Sirius’s side. Always. But I wonder if Sirius and Regulus are really on opposite sides at all. I clear my throat. “I… didn’t think you’d tell me all that.”
Regulus hums, staring up at the sky once more. “You’re the first person to ask me questions who doesn’t want anything more from me than the answer. Who doesn’t want leverage against me, or wants to start a fight, or has some other ulterior motive. Besides,” he says, his voice turning soft as he studies the stars. “Maybe you can get Sirius to finally believe all that.”
We sit in silence for a while, and to my surprise, I don’t mind it. Finally, Regulus stands up and heads towards the door. He opens it, then pauses.
“This doesn’t mean we’re friends,” he says over his shoulder.
“Oh, of course,” I reply. He glances back at me, then sighs and shakes his head, before disappearing through the door. I look up at the black expanse above me, finding the stars Regulus showed me the last time we were here.