Chapter 4
“Should I write to Andy?”
It was a warm night when Sirius asked the question. The two boys sat on the roof of Grimmauld Place, shoulder to shoulder. Sirius’ legs dangled off the edge, swinging in the air, while Regulus sat with his knees up to his chin, arms wrapped tightly around them.
“Andromeda?” Regulus asked, needlessly. There was only one Andy that they knew, afterall.
Rather than biting back with a snarky remark, Sirius simply nodded. Regulus figured it must be something serious bothering his brother, especially for him to have disturbed their peaceful quiet.
“Why?” Regulus questioned. Sirius had never shown any interest in writing to Andromeda before. Of course, Regulus suspected Sirius longer to hear from her just as much as he did, though he would never admit it. No matter the reason for her absence, they had grown up together, and there would always be a part of him that would wonder what would become of her.
“Why not?” Sirius said with a shrug despite the long list of reasons Regulus could come up with just at that moment.
“You know why not,” Regulus reminded him. His mind thought back to the letters Sirius sent him that had been collected by his mother before he ever saw them.
Sirius frowned and looked at his feet, his expression one of deep concentration. Neither of them spoke for a while. Whenever Regulus looked back at his brother, Sirius was still looking strangely contemplative.
“Would you write to me if I left?” Sirius spoke just when Regulus thought he never would. Sirius had asked the question quietly and turned to watch Regulus with a curious expression. Regulus fidgeted slightly where he sat.
“But you won’t,” Regulus said, confused as to why Sirius was asking. It was strange for Sirius to have suddenly become so reflective. It wasn’t unheard of, but heart-to-hearts were rare between the two of them those days.
“But if I did? Hypothetically,” Sirius prodded.
Despite not understanding why it was so important to Sirius, he thought for a moment anyway, resisting the urge to remind Sirius that they didn’t even write to each other now, and barely talked outside of the holidays.
He shrugged. “Suppose I would, at some point.”
“How long would you leave it?” Sirius enquired, staring at Regulus like he was trying hard to understand something.
“Dunno, depends on what terms you left on, I guess. A month or two if I wasn’t upset, a year or two if I was.” Regulus watched to see Sirius’ reaction, but he just looked thoughtfully back to the stars. “Why are you asking?”
“Andromeda left two years ago, I’m scared it's too late to write.”
“If she wanted to hear from us, don’t you suppose she’d send a letter herself?” Regulus speculated. Andromeda had no one stopping her writing, unless her muggle-born husband had forbidden it. Now that Regulus thought about it, he realised how likely that may be.
“What if she doesn’t know if we want to hear from her?” Sirius argued.
“What if she doesn’t want to hear from us? She’s the one who left the family, remember,” Regulus pointed out and Sirius let out an exasperated sigh.
“Do you think it was this complicated for Uncle Alphard when he wrote?”
“Uncle Alphard wrote?” Regulus asked, somehow becoming even more confused. If there had been a letter from Alphard, he hadn’t seen it.
“He congratulated me on my sorting,” Sirius explained, “said to visit some time. Did he not send you one?”
Regulus shook his head, mildly stung.
The only letter he’d received following his sorting was from his mother reminding him to focus on his studies, mix with the right sort, and that she’d see him again at Christmas. The only congratulations he’d ever received was from Narcissa and her fiance when he next saw her a few months later.
“Perhaps he forgot,” Sirius said, obviously aiming to comfort but not quite able to think of a more believable lie fast enough.
“Yeah, perhaps,” Regulus agreed, though they both knew that wasn’t the reason. “Do you know why he was disowned?”
“No,” Sirius said thoughtfully, “I’ll ask him when I next write.”
They were both quiet again, staring back at the night’s sky like mirror images. Regulus wondered why they couldn’t always be this way.
“You don’t hate Alphard or Andromeda then?” Sirius spoke again.
“Not hate, no,” Regulus murmured to the sky.
“You’re meant to,” Sirius observed.
“So are you,” Regulus pointed out though he knew it wasn’t the same. Sirius had never tried to hate them, whereas Regulus did each time he remembered their existence. Deciding to hate someone sounded so simply in theory, but it wasn’t an emotion easily faked.
“Are you angry at them?” Sirius asked. It seemed he was taking the chance to question Regulus while they weren’t fighting, when he would most likely receive an honest answer.
“Not personally, but on behalf of the family.”
“You still call Andromeda ‘cousin’ and Alphard ‘uncle’?”
“Yeah.”
“But you reject them, as family I mean.”
“Yeah,” Regulus said again.
“How does it make sense in your head? Doesn’t it bother you?” Sirius had his face screwed up. Sirius had always viewed these things as all or nothing; either they were family or they weren’t. But, for Regulus it was so much more complicated than that.
“How does it make sense in yours?” He shot back, wanting the pressure to answer off of him.
“I don’t disown family members based on their interactions with muggles and muggle-borns, I’m not prejudiced, so what I believe makes perfect sense,” Sirius said, the bitter tone creeping into his words, unbalancing the amity they had silently agreed on.
“But it's not completely that and you know it. They betrayed the family. They didn’t have to leave but then went anyway,” Regulus explained, though he was sure Sirius had already heard everything from their parent’s mouths and ignored it.
Regulus could have gone on, telling Sirius how selfish he considered them for putting their wants above the family needs. They had all grown up the same, surrounded with only each other for company, and he couldn’t fathom how they decided one day that they needed more than them.
“So, if you saw Andromeda today, she’s just a stranger to you? You’d treat her as one too?” Sirius was continuing with his interrogation, though his voice had levelled back to his previously calm.
Regulus hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Yes,” he lied firmly.
Most likely, he would ignore her but not in the way he would ignore a stranger. He’d ignore her in the same way that he ignored Sirius after an argument, giving him the silent treatment, or like how he’d ignored his mother when she stood watching him do his homework in the library. It wouldn’t be the same as treating her as a stranger because he’d be too aware of her every movement in his peripheral vision, he’d feel the weight of her stare. And he would care too about how she saw him, how she reacted, who she was with. He never noticed strangers, but he’d certainly notice her.
“I don’t understand,” Sirius muttered, rubbing his head with his hand. He spoke so softly Regulus wasn’t sure if he was still addressing him or if he was talking to himself.
“You used to once,” Regulus reminded him quietly.
Regulus suspected Sirius didn’t like to think of himself before Hogwarts. In the past year and a half, Sirius had gotten so righteous. There was a time Sirius considered himself better because he was a Black; he had left for school with his head held high and his back ramrod straight copying the sneer their mother wore when she walked through crowds.
Sirius didn’t refute the comment.
“I need to sleep, let's go back in,” was all he said after a few minutes.
Regulus nodded reluctantly. He didn’t want to leave just yet. Nevertheless, he shuffled so his legs were hanging over the roof and Sirius’ had done and placed them on the slight ledge above Sirius’ window. While gripping the edge of the roof, he turned so he was facing Sirius where he knelt, watching Regulus with hands out slightly, ready to stop Regulus from falling if he needed to.
Regulus had done this so many times, though, that he didn’t need help. One hand gripped the metal water pipe to his left to keep him steady. It was old and rusty and not unstable just yet. He made his way down using familiar foot and hand holds until he was on the windowsill and shuffling to the open window.
He reached out to pull the window open a little so he could easily slip in without a sound, but he was distracted when he caught sight of his reflection. Only, it wasn’t him. The person in the reflection was older, hair flat on his forehead and water dripping down his face. The eyes were glassy and had a slight green tinge, strangely vivid.
Regulus lost his footing slightly as he moved to get a better look. Quickly, he gripped the window frame in his panic. Looking below him, he watched a loose piece of stone from the window ledge fall into the dark.
“You alright?” Sirius whisper-shouted above him and Regulus looked up to see his concerned expression peering over the edge of the roof.
“Yeah,” Regulus said, a little breathless, “Loose stone, watch out.”
“This place is falling apart,” Sirius complained above him bitterly as he moved to follow, “should just have it knocked down.”
Regulus wasted no time in entering the bedroom, refusing to look in the window again. Digging his wand out his pocket, he lit a few candles and waited until Sirius made it through.
They exchanged quick good nights and Regulus rushed to leave, wanting to avoid any more of Sirius’ questions. Before he was halfway through the door, however, Sirius spoke.
“I’ll write to Andromeda tonight, so mother and father don’t notice,” Sirius whispered to him.
Regulus nodded over his shoulder, “Tell her not to write back,” he told Sirius, “Mother and Father may see otherwise.”
Sirius nodded in understanding. “I’ll tell her to send it to school, I’ll read it when I get there,” he assured Regulus. “I can have it signed by you too; have it sent from both of us,” Sirius continued, tone tentative.
Regulus knew his answer but pretended to consider it nonetheless. He knew, though, that contacting Andromeda would do more harm than good. If she did reply, he suspected she wouldn’t, he didn’t want the temptation of staying in contact.
“No,” he said finally, “I don’t want her contacting me.”
“Okay,” Sirius said. Regulus could tell from his voice alone that he was disappointed and the hope that drained from his face only confirmed it.
Perhaps he’d thought he’d finally won, that he’d finally convinced Regulus to believe his lies. But, if anything, their talk had only made Regulus more certain that he shouldn’t care for his disowned relatives.
Clearly Andromeda didn’t want to be in the family any more than the family wanted her in it. She’d never written to them. Then Alphard had never written to Regulus, clear indication that Regulus wasn’t wanted in his life at all.
If Regulus wasn’t wanted by them, he wouldn’t want them either.
-
As the nights grew warmer, lighter too, Regulus took to walking the grounds of Hogwarts rather than the familiar corridors. It was nice to be out despite the unsettling footsteps and rustling that followed him as he walked.
He’d pass the Black Lake, keeping a safe distance between himself and the water, and regard the ripples and the undulating surface. It was peaceful to watch, he found. There was no fear felt while his feet remained on solid ground, so each day, he walked past a little closer than before.
Eventually, on one particular walk, he sat down on the bank, feet just centimetres from the water, and looked out at the view that was slowly fading as the dark crept in. From here, he could see the castle in all its glory, glittering against the darkening sky from candlelit windows.
Not for the first time, Regulus envied how cosy staying in one of the towers would be. He would have much preferred it to the dungeon which only ever saw false light. He could see what the hat meant when it said he would thrive in Ravenclaw. He would have been comfortable there.
But that was not the case, and it didn’t bother Regulus that much. Slytherin was the best thing for him, he would’ve felt like an outsider anywhere else. So, he turned away from the castle and back to the water, banishing thoughts of an alternate life.
There, in the water, he could see something. He leaned forward, trying to get a better look. It can’t have been, but it looked like the head of somebody swimming in the water. He stood and took a step closer, the water lapping at the front of his shoes. He could feel the cold reaching for his toes.
Watching closely, he saw the figure duck beneath the water and vanish from view completely. One the ripples had subsided, it was like they had never even been there. He waited a long while before he decided they weren’t coming back up again.
On his walk back to the castle, he tried to figure out what it had been. A student was highly unlikely as no one would be stupid enough to go swimming that far out when the water was still freezing from the chill of winter. Plus, there was no chance anyone could hold their breath that long.
Another option was that it was his hallucinations again. This he doubted though. Whenever The House gave him visions, he knew for sure that's what they were. They sent a primal fear through him, leaving him panicked and full of dread. Afterwards, he would be afraid to look over his shoulder, afraid to open closed doors, even afraid to open his own eyes.
His last theory was concerning the magical creatures he believed to lurk in the dark waters. Merpeople, he decided, was most likely. They looked the same as witches and wizards, he’d heard, and rarely broke the surface long enough to be identified. The tail, of course, was a giveaway.
After that, he frequented the lake more, needing to confirm his suspicions. Back he went once the sun was setting and he studied the waters until his eyes grew tired and he decided it was time to give up.
It was around his fifth venture to the lakeside when he returned to a common room that was not wholly empty. There, sat on the stone window-seat that looked out at the black expanse of the lake, was a girl. Her feet rested on the stone infront of her and there was a book on her lap resting on her bent knees.
She looked up when he entered with furrowed eyebrows and a piercing gaze. Regulus gently let the door shut behind him and walked further into the room, hands shoved in his pocket and stare not leaving hers. He didn’t like how close she was to the window and tried to ignore the creatures that moved through the water in his peripheral vision, creatures that he knew weren’t really there.
It was only when he got past the first sofa that she spoke.
“Watch out staying out so late,” she said, her tone of voice not unkind, slightly playful even, “Filch is on it these days, ever since those Gryffindors turned the water red and gold.”
“I’m careful,” he replied, slowing and turning to fully face her. She had closed her book, a finger trapped keeping it open slightly so her page wasn’t lost, and swung her legs off the bench. Now, she sat with her elbows on her knees, head tilted in her hands as she continued to study him.
“You’re Regulus Black,” she observed, “Your brother’s in my year, he’s a pain in the arse.”
“You’re telling me,” Regulus muttered.
That made her smile, grin even, with all her teeth showing. With the book in one hand she stood and came to stop before him. She was taller than him, though not by much.
“So, where were you?” she asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Not doing anything my brother would do, don’t worry,” Regulus assured her.
She nodded in satisfaction, “Guessed you’d be pretty different; Gryffindor and Slytherin and all,” she said as she walked past him to sit on the sofa by the fire. Regulus watched her go past, wondering for a moment whether she was leaving.
He watched as she put her feet up on the coffee table. There was an urge in him to tell her it was rude to have her feet on the table, but instead he walked over and sat opposite. Here, he could feel the warmth of the fire. It was lit all year round in an attempt to banish the cold that lingered in the dungeons even during the warmest of summers.
“So, really, where were you?” she asked again. Regulus could tell there was only curiosity that remained.
“Just walking around, by the lake,” he said.
“That’s boring. I was thinking maybe you’d snuck out to the quidditch pitch for some forbidden flying,” she said.
Regulus hadn’t even considered breaking the rule that first years couldn’t fly outside of lessons, though at the mention of it he thought of how much he wanted to. He didn’t find it fair that he couldn't fly freely just because the muggle-borns had never seen a broom before. They should be kept separate, he thought, so the actual wizards could thrive without being dragged down.
“Do you play quidditch, Regulus?” she asked him.
“I’m a good flyer,” he said, thinking back to him and Sirius practising in the garden, “but I’ve never played quidditch. I like to watch it though,” he told her. Never had he been around enough children to even make up half a team, so, even if their parents let them, he never would have had the opportunity to play.
“Tryout next year,” she said, bluntly and with no room for protest. “For seeker.”
“Why?” he asked anyway.
“Because I’m telling you to. Blacks have always been good quidditch players, you must know. Plus, the current seeker is a right bastard and I want him kicked off before I punch him.”
“I won’t make the quidditch team in my second year,” Regulus warned her. Students making the team in their second year was almost unheard of. Sirius hadn’t, despite all their practising over summer.
“Why not? I did. You can fly, well you said, and you’ve got the build for it,” she told him as she scrutinised him with her sharp eyes. “Being a second year isn’t the reason some people are slow, they just haven’t lost the fear of falling yet.”
“What if I don't?”
“Tryout? Maybe I’ll just punch you instead,” she said with a smile on her face, “So, you’d better get practising.”
“Was losing your fear of falling what got you on the team?” he asked, avoiding giving her a definitive answer.
“No, got me on the bench though. Something happened to one of the chasers and he quit after one match, just one of life’s mysteries I guess,” she explained, wistfully, “I was their next best.”
“Did you have anything to do with it?” Regulus asked suspiciously, having seen her expression as she spoke of it, as though she knew more about the situation than she was letting on.
She laughed lightly.
“Any plans for Saturday?” She asked rather than replying. Regulus wasn’t sure whether that meant he was right or that he was wildly wrong.
“No.”
“Practise finishes at eleven, there’s an hour where the pitch is empty. Come find me afterwards, and bring a broom,” she said. The way she spoke reminded him strongly of Pandora when she would demand he spend the afternoon with her. Only, he figured this girl wouldn’t take it so well if he declined.
“And what if I don’t?” He asked, testing the waters.
“Bring a broom? You’d probably have to borrow one from the school,” she said dismissively, standing up and walking past him, back to the window. “Surely you have one of your own, though?”
Regulus didn’t watch her as she went, still keen on avoiding catching sight of the depths of the lake. “No, I meant what if I don’t want to go?” he clarified.
“Why don’t you want to go?” she asked in confusion, coming back into his view, frowning at him as she slid a bookmark, one that she must’ve left by the window when he’d disturbed her, into her book.
“I don’t know, why are you assuming I do?” Regulus looked up at her and felt very small under her gaze.
“Oh, stop your whining,” she rolled her eyes and started walking away, this time towards the dorm rooms. Regulus stood but didn’t follow. “Come or don’t, I don’t care,” she said, turning to face him, walking backwards, “If you do, don’t be late because I don’t like being kept waiting. If you don’t, well, try not to change your mind later on because I’ll say no.”
Only when he lay down in his bed with his curtains drawn did he realise he had never asked for her name.
-
Regulus spent the leadup to Saturday debating with himself whether to meet with the girl or not. At dinner and in the corridors, he looked out for her. Occasionally he caught a glimpse but she’d always disappear round a corner or turn at the last minute so he was never quite sure.
Saturday morning was a cloudy day though oddly bright. Regulus was squinting as he walked down to the pitch. As he got closer, he could see figures in the air, flying so fast it was hard to follow them with his eyes. By the time he got to the entrance, they were all walking out.
At the back of the group, braided hair pulled into a high ponytail, was the girl. She noticed him and immediately turned with a smile, walking back through the entrance towards the pitch.
Regulus rushed to catch up with her, broom in hand. He had had to ask Kreacher that morning to fetch it for him, only just remembering he hadn’t brought it, thinking he wouldn’t have needed it that year.
He followed her as she marched to the supplies shed. Just before she disappeared inside, she gestured for him to stop following. He waited there, gazing around at the stands, imagining the nerves during a match while having all those eyes on him.
“A snitch,” her voice declared as she came back out to greet him, a shiny gold ball in her gloved hands. “Do you think you can catch it?”
Regulus stared at it with its little silver wings. It was so small, so easy to get lost in the busy background. Once, he’d gone to see the finale of the Quidditch World Cup and spent most of the match trying to look for it with his bare eyes. Only twice had he ever seen it.
“Give it a go,” she said and released it into the air.
The hour was fun. Regulus and the girl flew and searched for the snitch. She gave him tips and raced him into dives. It was a pleasant experience, far better than what he had imagined and been dreading.
When it came to the end they touched down on the ground, the snitch tightly held in Regulus’ fist. It had stopped its struggle as soon as his fingers had closed around it.
“Well done,” she said, voice warmer than it ever had been before.
“Thanks.”
“Right, we’ve got to go now though, the Gryffindor team will be here soon enough,” she said, gesturing for him to follow her back to the shed. They quickly packed the snitch away again and Regulus was almost mournful to let it go.
They walked out just at the moment a trail of red-clad quidditch players arrived, passing them as they left the pitch. Regulus didn’t bother watching the faces, no one there was important enough for him to notice. Regulus was almost bitter on Sirius’ behalf knowing that he wasn’t picked for the team.
What he did forget was that Potter had been chosen.
“Regulus?” Regulus looked up to see Potter standing in front of them. “What are you doing down here? Dorcas, how was practise?” James said cheerfully, looking genuinely interested to know the answers.
“I’d be nervous for your next match, Potter,” the girl, Dorcas he now knew, said. Again her voice held that slightly playful lilt, not quite friendly but not hostile either.
“Trust me, I am,” Potter laughed. He turned a curious gaze to Regulus, “I didn’t know first years could get on the team, if I had I would've tried out last year.”
“I’m not on the team,” Regulus denied.
“We’re not telling you any more, Potter, team tactics are always kept a secret, you know this,” Dorcas stopped Potter from questioning them anymore and walked past him, nudging Regulus to walk with her.
Potter called to them, saying goodbye, but neither turned or acknowledged him.
“He can be as bad as your brother,” Dorcas complained, “Nosy, but oddly charming about it.”
“You think he’s charming?” Regulus asked incredulously.
“Some people certainly think so, they get away with everything.”
Regulus couldn’t argue with that. With the amount of pranks the group had pulled, he’d have thought the school would’ve come up with a suitable punishment to put an end to it. Regulus suspected Dumbledore didn’t really want to, but rather enjoyed the havoc and secretly encouraged them.
Together they walked back up to the castle. Once in the common room, they separated to their respective dorms, and Regulus was mildly surprised to find her waiting for him outside for him when he left.
She had changed into more casual clothing, as had Regulus. Side by side they walked into the Great Hall. The entire journey there, Regulus was wondering when Dorcas was going to veer off and leave him, but she didn’t.
Not even when they sat to eat did she leave to find someone else more worthy of her time. Regulus had a suspicion he had just made another friend.
-
Regulus hadn’t seen the figure in the lake again. As the time passed, he grew more and more frustrated about it. He knew he hadn’t been seeing things, but each night that passed where they didn’t reappear, he doubted himself.
As exams grew closer, he had taken to going to the lake earlier and taking revision with him. He would sit on the bank, occasionally glancing at the lake’s surface, as he focused on his notes. No one really came that far from the castle, especially not to work, so he was left by himself mostly. That was how he liked it.
He saw the figure again much later that term, a week or so before his first exam. Sat on the bank, he had looked up as he usually would, then done a double take.
There was definitely a head and shoulders visible in the water, not that far from him. Standing, he abandoned his work and walked briskly to a rocky outcrop. The rocks were dry and not too slippery, but he still took it slow so he didn’t lose his balance.
The last thing he needed was to fall into the lake.
Once he got to the end, he lifted his eyes from his feet and froze as they met another pair. He had been right in his theory of merpeople, it seemed. There she was, a mergirl who looked a similar age to him. Her hair was the colour and texture of lake weed and it floated in the water behind her back. Her skin had a bluish tinge to it, as though perpetually cold.
“Hello,” Regulus greeted quietly. The girl watched him for a moment longer before she dove down again. He caught sight of her scaled tail as she vanished into the dark.
Once again, he waited for her reappearance longer than he should’ve done before he collected his things and headed back to the castle.
At least he didn’t feel like he was going completely crazy anymore.