All is Fair in Love and Stinksap - Regulus’ POV
Sunday 15th September, 1975
“I just… Why wouldn’t they tell us—tell me?” Regulus asked, voice low as to not be overheard.
Dorcas sighed, leaning in too, “Well, you know what Barty’s dad’s like…”
”Yeah, but… surely they can’t think we’d say anything.”
”Maybe it’s more of people knowing at all.” Dorcas pointed out, leaning back to take to stab a potato into her mouth, “Maybe it’s not that serious. Or they don’t want to make it that serious.”
”That’s even worse, though.” Regulus argued, “If they’re—having sex, it’ll completely mess up their friendship.”
Dorcas went slightly quiet in a way that was far too unusual for her. A way that made Regulus pause.
”What?”
”Don’t… don’t interpret this the wrong way.” She said, voice barely audible, “But what if they… y’know…” She let out a huff, “I don’t reckon the Dark Lord is too keen on bumming.”
He looked down at his food with a sour yet pale expression, “Don’t say it like that.”
”Like what?”
”Like it’s not a big deal.”
“Would you rather me wail about the perils of homosexuality?”
”You know that’s not what I mean.”
Regulus felt that awful, familiar stir in his stomach. That one made up of different shades of pain and guilt and conflict. He chose not to think about, it most of the time—what his mother had said that summer. He chose not to think about the traitorous pride he had felt at her joy when he had agreed to work up to what she wanted him to be. He chose not to think about the fact he had only agreed out of fear of what would happen if he didn’t. It was the difference between he and his brother - the reason the hat chose Slytherin instead of Gryffindor - but if Regulus did not think it then it would not exist.
In Regulus’ personal dictionary, ‘cowardice’ wasn’t considered a word.
Before he could comment on the topic further, Dorcas spoke, “Lupin?”
Regulus’ eyes shot up at the appearance of… Well, if this conversation couldn’t get any worse.
“I’m sitting here because Pandora is being weird.” Lupin said. It was a statement rather than a question, the tall boy slotting himself across from them. Regulus sort of admired him for it.
One thing Regulus was good at was distracting himself. And wondering why on earth Barty and Tony’s strange, womanising dorm mate was making such an effort to talk to his brother that he had charmed a notebook into some sort of instant-letter device was, admittedly, a brilliant distraction.
So, since he had seen that cursive that was so undeniably Sirius, Regulus had been a little bit… obsessed with whoever the hell Lupin was. It was like he was simultaneously detached from the world and holding it together. He was woven into girls’ whispered conversations and held on a podium he didn’t really seem to care for. He was attractive, sure. But Barty had always spoke about him being strange. Like when you talk to someone who hasn’t read the Prophet lately; he’s not got a clue what’s going on. But, still, through all that, the boy seemed to be so sure of himself.
“Reg, this is Remus Lupin—“
“I know who he is.” Regulus huffed.
”Yeah.” Lupin nodded, scooping an ungodly indulgent amount of roasties onto his plate, “He’s mates with my dorm mates.”
Dorcas’ face dropped slightly and Regulus could feel her tense, “Barty. Right.”
He glanced at his friend briefly before looking down at his own plate. He could feel his brows drawn tightly together but couldn’t bring himself to relax them. So, he did what he normally did when this topic came up.
He distracted.
”With the book.” Regulus commented, looking up from the plate.
“The book?” Dorcas asked, eyes flitting to his own before landing on Lupin’s.
And, in that ‘holding the world together’ demeanour that seemed to expect everyone to just understand what was going on, Lupin spoke, “I appreciated that, by the way. You know what Crouch is like.”
Regulus looked down again, scraping his fingernails over the groves in his goblet. So much for distracting from Barty.
”What book?” Dorcas enunciated, leaning forwards and nearly landing her tie into a pool of gravy.
”It’s… well.” Lupin’s started. Regulus was focused intently on the tone of his voice, “I’ve sort of been talking to—someone.”
Regulus looked up. Did he mean talking or did he mean talking?
”Christ. Don’t act too surprised.” Lupin snorted. Regulus’ expression didn’t change.
”Wait—I don’t get it. What does that have to do with a book?”
“It’s got this charm on it. I don’t really know what it is, actually.” Lupin countered, “Er… she came up with it.”
Regulus didn’t hear much after that.
She came up with it.
She.
Female.
Not male.
Not Sirius?
No, that couldn’t have been right.
Oh, Salazar. What if Sirius was lying to Lupin? Was Sirius flir—eugh… Romantically communicating with Lupin and telling him he’s a girl?!
No. Sirius was mad—but he wasn’t insane. Was he? What if his mother was right? What if those imbeciles in Gryffindor were filling his head with a bunch of nonsense? Regulus had barely spoken to Sirius this past summer. Well… Sirius had barely spoken to Regulus. How in the name of Merlin was he supposed to have faith in his brother to not—do whatever he’s been doing?!
Wait—what if Regulus is reading it wrong? Who is he to assume that Lupin isn’t just lying on his brothers behalf? He had already mentioned the… ahem, romance part. It wasn’t as though it’d be a sound idea to announce it’s another boy at the dinner table.
He should’ve seen it, honestly. With the absolute fervour the whole ‘Casanova’ rumour had barrelled on and on at such a rapid pace, sending Lupin from the quiet, awkward boy to the tall drink of water ever girl in the year insisted on silently (or not so silently) frothing over.
Nobody would want that much attention on their sex life unless it wasn’t really their sex life at all. Or maybe it was. Maybe Lupin liked girls but with a bit of Regulus’ brother on the side… Salazar. He cannot believe he just thought that.
“Well, who is it?” Regulus vaguely heard Dorcas say, his consciousness springing back into action. As though she could sense Regulus coming back into himself, she glanced at him tentatively before looking at Lupin once more, “Actually, you can tell me later.”
”It doesn’t matter, I don’t know who it is, anyway.” Lupin answered and Regulus’ brain just about short circuited.
”What?” Regulus heard himself say, or hiss. Then, once he’s fully come to, “You—you’re speaking to someone - romantically - and you don’t know who you’re speaking to?”
Unbothered by the entire ordeal, Lupin answered, “I mean, we know plenty about each other.” He troweled a parsnip into his mouth, “We’ve made a bit of a game out of it, actually—guessing, I mean.”
Oh, no, no, no.
Not helping the point. Not helping the point at all.
”So—she hasn’t told you who she is?” Regulus asked, abruptly.
”Well, I haven’t said anything about me, either…” Lupin replied, carefully.
Regulus stood up, his thighs hitting the table in a way that made the silverware clatter.
“Wha—Reg! Where you going?!” Dorcas protested as Regulus stamped away. “I thought we were—“
Her voice faded away as Regulus’ eyes scanned the Gryffindor table. Of course, his brother wasn’t there. He made his way out of the great hall with his feet and his temper propelling him. Was he sure on how to get into the Gryffindor common room? No. Was he going to bombarda the Fat Lady if he had to? Yes! Sirius and his entirely frustrating ‘untouchable’ attitude was going too far now.
Regulus had no idea what agenda his brother had. But he’d bet the bloody elder wand that it had something to do with defying their mother and father. It would be his pièce de résistance. The final Jenga block to topple the tower. Fucking - or fucking with - the most muggle Slytherin of them all. The most male muggle Slytherin. Oh, his father was going to love this one. Lupin was the son of a ministry worker too, if Regulus’ memory stood correct. Sirius was going to be disinherited before great aunt Elladora’s painting could screech her first slur.
He was never sure of what Sirius was trying to prove—why he couldn’t just do all of this stuff without their parents knowing. Regulus never understood why his brother couldn’t just keep his mouth shut for his own sake. Especially when the fallout was usually—
“Reg!”
Regulus startled out of his thoughts, his head whipping behind him to see Dorcas catching up.
”What?” He hissed, stilling.
”Where are you going?!” She scoffed, jogging to a stop then crossing her arms.
”To talk to Sirius.”
”What?!”
“You know I’m not usually one to sympathise with strangers, but this is too far.” Regulus said, lowering his voice so passers by wouldn’t listen in. Dorcas seemed to have the same idea, grasping onto his forearm and pulling him behind one of the pillars that bordered the courtyard.
”What are you on about?” She shook her head, her brows furrowed and eyes drawn wide in disbelief.
”I’m talking about the fact he is leading on the very oblivious Lupin who doesn’t even know he’s not a girl.” Regulus hissed.
Dorcas’ expression faltered slightly and she drew back, letting go of his arm and opening her mouth to speak. When no words came out, he continued,
”I saw it. His handwriting in that silly little book.” Regulus waved a hand, a look as though he had smelled something foul on his face, “I knew he wanted to go to lengths further than Antarctica to annoy mother and father but this… Including another person… Cruel, is what it is.”
He could see from the way her face was screwed up that there was something deeply conflicting playing on Dorcas’ mind. She kept looking as though she wanted to say something, but also kept drawing up short.
”I just—don’t you think maybe you should… I don’t know- leave him to it?” She finally asked.
“What? And let our parents give him the coup de grâce he so desperately seems to want?” Regulus looked at her incredulously, “I thought you were friends with Lupin? Shouldn’t you be the one encouraging it?”
”I am! I—it’s just… maybe you don’t know the whole story?”
”What do you mean?”
”How do you know that Lupin doesn’t know it’s Sirius he’s talking to?”
”He specifically said earlier that it was romantic. You heard him say it was romantic, Dorcas. Are you implying that—?”
”No! I’m just—! What if it was a cover up?”
”A cover up?” Regulus scoffed, rolling his eyes, “For what? Trying to find which curl creme best suits him?”
It was Dorcas’ turn to roll her eyes, she crossed her arms and bunched up her shoulders, “You know how your brother and his friends feel about Snape. Maybe they’re—plotting something?”
”Plotting something?”
”Snape hates Remus, that’s like a universally known fact. Maybe Sirius needs his help for a prank and Lupin is finally sick of his shit? It’s not like they can talk freely in the halls without Barty spitting something derogatory so what are the chances that he lied to you so you wouldn’t get suspicious? You know his reputation.”
“What? As our biggest slut-therin?”
”That was awful. Like actually the worst pun I’ve ever heard.”
Regulus groaned, letting out a huff, “I know. Thinking about Sirius makes me bitchy.”
”Just—” Dorcas sighed, grabbing Regulus’ hands and holding them in a way that was probably supposed to be supportive but instead felt slightly threatening, “Don’t think about it. Sirius doesn’t want to hold responsibility for you, why should you hold responsibility for him?”
Regulus paused at this, his teeth nipping at the tip of his tongue inside his mouth.
Eventually, he shook his head, “Fine. But if next week Lupin hexes him across the great hall I will be milking the ‘I told you so’s.”