The Prettiest Star

“Could I have a word with you, my boy?” came a voice from behind Regulus. He didn’t have to turn around to know it was Slughorn, but he couldn’t decipher whether having a word with him would be a good or bad thing. 

“Of course,” replied Regulus, his voice raising several octaves. He glanced around from his work where he was arranging his potions equipment for the next lesson to see if he could gauge anything from the Professor’s facial expression, but gleaned nothing from Slughorn’s slight smile and soft nod. 

Feeling a little sick, Regulus finished putting everything in its proper place and turned again towards Slughorn. The rest of the students who had bothered to stay as long as him were filtering out, and he caught Pandora’s eye before she disappeared into the corridor. She’d winked at him. That was a good thing then, this conversation was likely to be positive. She’d seen it, just as she saw everything. Regulus tried to settle the knot in his stomach.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked to talk to you,” commented Slughorn, because he was dramatic and he had to draw out the suspense. Regulus, or rather his nerves, didn’t appreciate this particular penchant for theatrics. “You are, without a doubt, one of my best students.”

That wasn’t what he’d expected at all.

“Thank you, sir,” gulped Regulus. 

“Well of course, my boy,” smiled Slughorn jovially, “You’re sure to achieve an Outstanding on your assessment. You and Lily Evans really are my star pupils,” he paused, and looked over Regulus appraisingly, “In fact, you remind me of her a bit.” Regulus bristled at the comparison, what did he have in common with her?

“Do I, sir?” he asked stiffly. 

“Yes,” chuckled Slughorn warmly, “In more ways than one.” But instead of elaborating on this alarming observation, he carried on. “Regulus, I wondered if you might be interested in an internship at Derby’s Apothecary?”

Regulus gaped dumbly, lost for words. 

“But I’m not graduating for another year, I— really?”

“Really,” confirmed Slughorn, “They could always hold the position for you. Derby is an old pupil of mine, and when I heard of this opportunity my mind went straight to you.” 

“Not to… Lily Evans?” he dared to ask, “Sir?”

“Unfortunately not, Derby is rather… conservative, in that sense. You would be better suited to that… environment.” 

He’d picked his words carefully, and he hadn’t said it, not outright, but Regulus could read between the lines. Derby wanted a pure blood. It almost made sense, in the current climate. If things escalated, as many predicted they would, then a pure blood intern would be able to stay on, or at least not tarnish the company name. 

It also made sense why Slughorn was asking Regulus, now. The first choice would have, obviously, been Lily Evans, which meant that Regulus fell second. Of course he did, she was in her last year, she’d need an internship soon, but he couldn’t help but feel bitter over the fact. Because Regulus was always second, wasn’t he? Especially when it came to Lily Evans. 

“What do you say, Regulus?” prompted Slughorn, “You’d need to write an admissions essay, and I’d give you a recommendation, and of course it would be hard work, but I’m confident you’d be able to do it.” 

Regulus swallowed his pride, doing his best to school his expression into something grateful. 

“I’d love to,” he smiled, though it felt tight around the edges. 

“Wonderful,” returned Slughorn, “I’m glad you agreed, my boy, this is a great opportunity.” 

A great opportunity he’d stolen off Lily Evans. A great opportunity he didn’t deserve. A great opportunity he’d been second best for. Regulus’ smile began to feel even tighter. 

***

That weekend was the first match of the season between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Regulus had been looking forward to it for quite a while. 

James hadn’t asked him their customary questions yet, which meant that Slytherin had to win, or Regulus wouldn’t be able to hold a victory over the other boy’s head when they did eventually talk.

The stands were jostling with students. Slytherin vs Gryffindor always seemed to be the more popular matches, as the two Houses with the biggest rivalry. 

Regulus circled overhead, high up and scanning the pitch for a glimmer of gold. Nothing so far. 

He’d been seeker for two years now, and he was pretty good at it. Regulus liked being on a broom. It felt different to his normal life, flying through the air. On the pitch, he only had to focus on one thing; catching the snitch (and avoiding any bludgers, though the team’s beaters were usually pretty good about that). Nothing else mattered. And when he did catch the snitch it was exhilarating. 

The moment right before he caught it was always the best. He was perfectly concentrated, almost within reach of his goal, yet it wasn’t quite over yet. Hopefully he found that moment today. 

He did another loop, then dipped a little lower. This was how he always did it, layer by layer, starting off high and then making his way down. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” said James, coming out of nowhere to join Regulus as he circled around the pitch. 

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” returned Regulus flatly, eyeing James warily as he came to fly right by his side, their shoulders jostling.

“Just making conversation,” replied James easily, “Any sign of the snitch yet?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Yes,” agreed James, smiling impishly, “I would.” He bumped lightly against Regulus’ shoulder, and Regulus pushed back, still combing the pitch for any sign of the elusive golden ball. 

 “Trying to distract me, Potter?”

“Is it working?” wondered James. 

“You wish,” he cut back, though his voice was less harsh than usual. Regulus blamed it on the sensation of flying, especially the sensation of flying next to James. He dipped a level lower, and James followed. “Shouldn’t you be helping your team score goals?” he asked, but there was no bite to it. 

“I’d much rather be here with you,” answered James, grinning, “You know, you have the most beautiful—

“You really are trying to distract me, aren’t you?” laughed Regulus, barely able to contain his surprise. He glanced over at James, who looked a little dazed. Regulus looked away, biting down on his lip to contain a grin. Two could play at that game. 

He circled back up to his previous higher perch, James trailing behind, and stopped somewhere near the edge of the pitch. 

“Come here,” he called, smiling in the way that had used to make Barty crazy. He beckoned a little with his hand and James flew up to him as if being pulled on a string. 

“What is it?” he asked, a little breathless. 

“Come on, closer,” encouraged Regulus, and James drew up to him until their brooms were parallel, and their shoulders were brushing again. 

“What?” smiled James, though there was something nervous in it. He ran a hand through his messy hair, only causing it to stick up further. 

“Come on, I’m going to tell you a secret,” he said, leaning in close to James’ ear. James stayed rigidly still, an impressive feat for him, Regulus thought. 

“What?” asked James again, quieter this time. 

Regulus leaned in even closer, and he was sure James could feel his breath ghosting over his neck. He relished in it for a second, huffing a half laugh. 

“I’m going to tell you a secret… about Quidditch,” he whispered, drawing out each word as his eyes scanned over James’ shoulder and surveyed the game below. 

James nodded softly, waiting, impossibly still and quiet. 

“When you’re trying to distract someone,” he continued, voice low and lilting, eyes still scanning, “Make sure that you aren’t distracted, too.”

James drew back a little but, turning to the side to get a better look at Regulus’ face, but Regulus was still looking straight ahead, in the opposite direction to James.

“What do you mean?”

And that was when Regulus saw it. And it was just too good really, the timing of it. 

With a grin that he didn’t bother to bite down on, he turned abruptly to James and kicked the end of his broom, hard. With a yelp, James was sent spinning off to the side, and without a second’s hesitation, Regulus plunged into a nose dive right towards the snitch. 

***

Afterwards, once he was changed and ready, Regulus waited at the side of the pitch, leaning against the wall, his windswept curls falling into his face. 

He was waiting, of course, for James, who was sure to emerge from his own changing rooms soon, if he could get over the shame of losing. Regulus almost felt a little bad for him, but it was James who’d started trying to distract him in the first place, so it wasn’t completely his fault. 

Instead of James Potter coming up to him however, it was Remus who joined him against the wall. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there quietly. After a while, he fished a cigarette out from his pocket and lit it. 

“Want some?” he asked.

Regulus wrinkled his nose.

“No.”

More silence followed. Regulus liked this about Remus, that he didn’t feel the need to talk all the time (unlike some people). 

“Sirius—

“Misses me?” interrupted Regulus. Remus chuckled lightly, bending his neck so that the hair fell into his eyes. 

“Guess I should shut up, huh?”

Regulus didn’t say anything, but that was message enough for Remus. 

“I heard that you miss me, too,” said Regulus after a moment. 

Remus raised an eyebrow. 

“Where’d you hear that?”

Regulus shot him a knowing look.

“So James tried to have this conversation with you too?” he smiled wryly. Regulus nodded in confirmation. Remus took a long drag from his cigarette and exhaled. “It’s true, we all miss you,” he added, and Regulus looked over at him, “Miss the old days, like last year, where you would come and say hi, or we’d go and say hi, or… miss studying with you in the library, you know. I do it with Lily sometimes, but she’s not as quiet, or as good at ancient runes.”

Regulus smiled to himself, but it was a bittersweet feeling. 

“Sirius misses you the most though,” confessed Remus quietly, and Regulus’ smile faded, “He doesn’t like to show it, but he feels awful. You don’t know how many times I’ve… I know he’s difficult sometimes, and I know it’s difficult for you, it’s not just about him, but I really… God it just makes him so sad. Sirius is never sad like that, even with your parents and… Just… Just think about it, okay Reg?” 

Regulus took a deep breath, steeling himself. Of course that was what Remus had come to say, he should’ve guessed. But maybe… Regulus couldn’t find it in himself to be bitter over it, this time. 

“I’ll think about it,” he agreed, voice barely above a whisper. Remus dropped his cigarette and stamped it out underfoot.

“Thank you,” he said earnestly, “Sirius… well, he’s Sirius.” 

Regulus laughed a little at that. 

“Yeah,” he breathed, scuffing a shoe in the dirt, “He still stealing your clothes?”

“Oh yeah,” confirmed Remus with a roll of his eyes, “Haven’t had my red jumper back for months now. And he wore my Bowie t-shirt to Hogsmeade.” 

There was a certain fondness in his voice, and Regulus felt a growing realisation come over him. 

“You like him, don’t you?” he said flatly. Remus went rigid, eyes flitting over to him. 

“What?” he asked in a high voice, “No, I mean, no, Sirius… He’s like a brother to me.” 

Regulus raised another incredulous eyebrow and Remus cringed at his own words.

“I mean—

“There’s enough incest in the family, Lupin,” quipped Regulus, and Remus was too stunned to say anything back. “My brother,” he stated, thinking it over, “Really?”

Remus ran a hand over his face. 

“Yes,” he admitted in a strangled voice. Remus had started a second cigarette, and the smoke was making Regulus feel queasy. 

“You’re waiting for him now, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” repeated Remus, just as embarrassed as the first time round. 

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he replied, beginning to walk away. He paused a moment, and looked back at Remus. “He doesn’t deserve you, you know.”

Again, Remus was speechless. By the time he’d managed to stammer out a ‘what?’ Regulus was already halfway across the pitch. He was going back to the castle, James could come and find him there instead. 

***

“Ok next question,” announced James excitedly. He’d tracked Regulus down, as expected, and had recovered his pride fairly well since their match. “What do you find attractive about people?”

Regulus let out a soft snort. “Attractive?”

“Yeah.” The sun was dipping below the clouds, and they were in that window seat again. The last rays of light illuminated James’ face and he looked heavenly. Regulus alternated between watching the sunset and watching him. 

“Well…” he mused, getting a wicked idea and trying not to smirk too much at it, “I really like neat hair.” James looked a little worried at this. It was almost too easy to toy with him. “And… people who don’t smile very much. People who don’t wear glasses...” James looked aghast. 

“Oh come on,” he chided in a frustrated tone, catching on, “What do you really find attractive?”

Regulus struggled for a serious answer. “Someone intelligent and stimulating,” he explained, “Someone put-together and well-read.”

“I’m well-read,” James piped up. Regulus stifled a laugh. 

“No you’re not,” he smiled, “You haven’t even read War and Peace,” James didn’t have anything to say to that. “I suppose…” thought Regulus, trying to think about what Barty and James had in common, “Confidence. Confidence is attractive. Compliments, too. When someone really wants to kiss me, that’s also attractive. And when they’re a little bit pathetic.”

“Pathetic?”

“Mmm,” he confirmed, fighting a smile and losing. 

“Merlin, you mystify me Regulus Black.” Regulus’ eyes shone. 

“Next question?” he asked liltingly, looking up through his lashes. James gulped. 

“Do you er, do you find me attractive?” he blurted out, “I mean, do you think I’m attractive?”

Regulus could barely contain the smile now. He felt his stomach flutter and bit the inside of his cheek. 

“I don’t know James, have you read War and Peace?”

“You know I haven’t.” pouted James. 

“Are you intelligent and put-together?” he teased.

“Very,” came the reply. 

“Are you confident?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Are you a little bit pathetic?”

“A little bit,” he admitted, and then he laughed. It was a warm laugh. 

“Do you really want to kiss me?”

James froze. He laughed again, this time nervously with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights. The warmth had disappeared. “I thought I was the one asking the questions here?” he joked, running a hand over the back of his neck in a flustered manner. 

“I thought you wanted me to ask you more questions?” Regulus countered, raising an eyebrow. 

“You’ve got me there,” agreed James with another weak laugh and Regulus began to wonder if his type was more than a little pathetic.