je te laisserai des mots
James
It’s time for Christmas break at Hogwarts, which is starting earlier this year in an attempt to accommodate students who celebrate other holidays. James is grateful for the early end to the first grading period, though, because he misses his Maa and Baba. Also, the food. Hogwarts food is awesome, but nothing compares to his Maa’s Vindaloo.
James is busy packing his clothes all week, leaving no time for Quidditch practice. It pretty much consists of waking up, eating, packing, eating, eating, eating, and sleeping. This is partially because none of the boys can focus when they’re around each other. This results in conversations such as:
“Okay, but have you ever actually seen a giraffe run?”
“What do Muggles even learn in school without magic?”
“Moony, you've got to be fucking with me. We are most definitely not made up of tiny little circles with more circles that are alive living in them.”
“What in Merlin’s beard is a calculus?”
It’s been an educational week, to say the least. In addition to their Muggle lessons, they’ve had to work on dividing their clothes up and returning things to their original owners. Eventually, they agree on a system, and by the end of the week, everything is sorted.
Regulus
He does not want to go home for Christmas. Typically, it wouldn’t be too detrimental, but Sirius is with the Potters this year. For Regulus, this means no one to talk to for a month. Kreacher is there, but Kreacher isn’t Sirius.
Having his first Christmas without his brother is something that he tries not to think about much. It won't stop happening because he pouts about it.
“Barty, where did you put my book?” he asks, digging through his drawers.
“Erhm, I ‘s on Effans’ ‘runk,” Barty calls back, mouth full of toothpaste.
Sure enough, it’s on top of Evans's trunk. Regulus had been studying for several days, and Barty just didn't care, so Evan was the only one packed and ready on time. Normally, Regulus is incredibly organized, but he had heard from some of the older years that 5th year is the most difficult for exams.
Regulus is hurrying to get what he needs packed, while Evan is lazily lounging in his bed.
“You could help, Evan. Aren’t friends supposed to do that?”
“Sure. But I don’t wanna,” Evan answers, not moving from his spot in bed.
“Alright, Rosier,” Regulus scowls, desperately trying to get his trunk to close.
“Oh, so it’s Rosier now?” Evan jokes, a small smirk on his face.
Details, details,” he teases back once he remembers the spell he had used at the beginning of the year to fit everything in his trunk.
In his state of satisfaction, he doesn’t even hear Barty walking towards him. All of a sudden, he gets knocked across the head with a pillow. Letting out a small chuckle, he stands up from where we had been kneeling.
“Oh, you’re going to regret that, Crouch.”
“Shit, bro, he used your last name. Better start running,” Evan laughs, sitting up in his bed, eagerly awaiting the coming events.
By the time Regulus is done, Barty’s hair has been dyed blue, and all of his clothes have been turned Gryffindor red and gold. Barty fake sobs from his place on the ceiling. Oh yeah, he’s stuck there too.
“Reggie, my love, I can’t believe you would do this to me!” He yells, dramatically reaching out a hand to his friend.
“Yes, well, I had to re-comb the back of my head, so,” Regulus replies, shrugging.
“Whatever will our little prince do without his perfectly tamed mane?” Evan jokes, looking at Barty.
“Hmm, Evan, have you ever considered pink hair? I think it’d suit you well, don’t you agree?” Regulus hums, twirling his wand between his fingers.
Evans makes a repeating ‘tsk’ noise while shaking a finger at Regulus, “My father would never allow that, pretty boy.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll let it slide… this time,” he smirks, putting his wand back in his pocket.
“Guys, is this some sort of weird kink?” Barty yells, still hanging upside down on the ceiling of their dorm.
-
Being back home hadn't been quite as bad as Regulus had assumed. Of course, he much preferred to be at school, but his mother and father had to go to France for a meeting with their financial advisor. Not that they need it, they just like saying it because having one of everything is the best way to show off their money.
The absence of his parents means more time to study as well as less stress. He loves them, but they have always been rather uptight. Today, he can do as he wishes without fear of being in trouble. Right now, that means writing his daily sticky note to Sirius. He didn't bring the container he keeps them in because it was safe to assume that it was too much ‘Sirius’ to risk having in the home.
Sirius,
Je te laisserai des mots. Même dans cette maison où ton nom est interdit. J'espère que tu vas bien.
Writing it in French makes it feel more private. Millions of people can speak the language, so it’s a bit nonsensical. Regulus does it anyway.
Dipping his quill back in the ink, hesitantly puts it back on the paper, and draws a constellation. Leo. There’s a lion for Sirius and the Regulus star for him.
It's cheesy and honestly a bit much, but he likes it. Sirius was always cheesy and a bit much, too.
Finally deciding to be done, he casts a quick-drying charm on the ink. He flattens the paper gently and places it in the back of his desk drawer.
As he sits there, Regulus soon realizes that he has nothing to keep himself entertained. Most of the time, he would spend his free time during breaks with Sirius, even when they started growing distant. There isn't much to do in this house, leaving them to entertain themselves.
Having zoned out, he jumps in his chair when he hears a ‘pop’ noise next to him.
“Hello Master Regulus, is everything alright?” Kreacher asks, causing Regulus to adopt a pleasant expression.
“I’m satisfied at the moment, but I will alert you if need be, Kreacher. Thank you.”
“It is good to see you back home, Master Regulus.”
“You as well, Kreacher. I tend to miss you while I'm away at Hogwarts,” he says, the corners of his mouth curling up.
Eventually, Kreacher disapparates once more. Truly, this house is so lonely.
For the duration of the break, Regulus simply studies. He studies, eats at meal times when he must, studies more, and sleeps. For the most part, his parents don’t like when he practices Quidditch at home, and leaving the manor is out of the question. Studying it is.
It's shocking how exhausting it can be to read. As someone who finds much entertainment in literature, only reading all day, every day, causes him to become highly fatigued.
The Noble House of Black also has an astounding lack of literature. At this point, Regulus has read and reread every book available to him. Someone can only read History of Wheezeblats so many times before they start losing their own sanity.
Because of this, Regulus starts writing poetry. He’s completely sure that it’s horrible, but it’s the only thing he has to keep himself entertained. It’s his own secret outlet for his thoughts. Regulus writes poem after poem after poem, not realizing that he’s had so much in his head for so long. Not in the depressing sense, but in the way that he never really knew that he had so much to say.