I
As Regulus walked to the quidditch pitch, he admired the setting sun, the organge light made it look as if the world were burning.
The cold air, reddened his cheeks and nose; it was getting colder and colder, an ill omen of the holydays to come, only two months left before he had to return to 12 grimmauld place, to his mother's stoic, cruel eyes waiting on the drawing room, her back stright as she sat on the same chair she used every day. Aware of everything that happend on that room and using it, as a warning. So Reguklus knew to behave while in the house, so Regulus remembered the consequences if he didn't. The brusing had healed quickly, with the potions he brew, the trembing that assulted his limbs not so much. The aftereffects of un unforguivable curse never did, their aftermath was lasting and visible; a trembe that took over his nerves, just like the excruisiating pain had done, altering the nervous sistem compleatly for the agony to be truly the worst one can experience.
It had happend only yesterday as he and Barty were studying on the library. They were talking about the transfiguration homework when Regulus' whole arm started shaking, unable to hold it still he dropped the book, the cause of the discusion, rather loudly and the other students sitted around them turn to look. He stuff his arms under the table and stared ahead as the tremle only worsen. It was always the same, some part of his body shoke suddenly, without warning, and it incremented, sometimes it took his whole body, others, like that day only a particular limb. As the convoulsion grew the pain appeared, it was nothing compare to the actual curse. But the fact that even months later, his body relived it.
It usually made his mind spiral. The pain began at the tip of his fingers, a meager tingle that grew and spread throughout his hands and arms, developing into a slight burning. It wasn't the pain that he couldn't handle, he would like to think of himself as a kind of expert in that subject, it was the memories that jamped at him, they came everytime, however regulus never expected them, and they took his breath away. He could hear Bartys voice, calling his name, but it was more of a smudged sound than anything. He could feel the wooden chair he was sitting on, but within a second it transformed into the wood plancks of the drawing room at his house, the taste of panic in his mouth started to turn copper like. The tremble seized Regulus' chest making breathing even harder, the air hitched at his lungs and he choked on it. Regulus could hear Sirius' screams the night before chirstams, see hiw his brother convulsed on the floor, blood puring out of a wound inflected on his leg, before the round of cruciatus had commenced. Bellatrix laughed behind him, Regulus was disgusted by that luaghter, high and manic, it made the hair on his neck stand. His father, Orion Black, master of the House of Black, staned at his side a hand gripping his shoulder as if he could move. Walburga was the first to torture Sirus, Bellatrixed followed, his father ahd never cursed them before, when drunk he could through a punch or two, but usually he just sat and enjoyed the show. And oh, enjoy he did, a vile smile would curve on his lips each time Walburgas' wand would light up, all he ever spoke was Toujour Pur when both her sons ended panting on the floor at his feet.
-Reg?.... Can you hear me? It's okay, you're with me, Barty, in the library at hogwarts. You are safe. -Regulus did hear him, but was unable to respond or even truly understan what had been said to him. The tremble was slowlying down and as it did, he became conciusse of his surrandings. Bartys brown eyes tinted with worry looking at Regulus hands. Contraty to what a lot of people thought, Barty wasn't stupid, he was one of the most cunning persons Regulus knew, but as he was loud and trublesome, people ignored that. And he understood, what the shaking meant, now he had witnessed it. Evreytime it began, Regulus would find an excuse and disapper until it was over, then come back as if nothing had happend. Of course all his friends knew his home situation was bad, how could they not? But they were blessedly unaware that the unforguivables were a commun and recurrent punishment for both Siruis and Regulus, Sirius more so, but now that he was gone, it all fell down to him.
-I'm fine. -He croaked, Regulus' eyes wide in panic.
-Yeah, sure you are.
Barty had moved them next to an empty bookshelf. So Regulus stud up, took a breath and closed his eyes before setting his posture, his usal mask of apathy on his face, perfectly placed. He proceded to continue on with his studying, as if rewinding time and eliminated the last fifteen minutes, Barty knew better than to say anything, so stayed quiet, only sending some glances his way.
Regulus stopped in his tracks a few meters away from the pitch, his grip on his broom thightening as he forced himself to to drop it, his trembeling knuckles white, contrasting with the now dark sky. He moved on, kept walking, that's all he could do, move foward and foward until he can't anymore.
Again he halted once he reached the entranse, he came almost everyday and not once he encounterd a soul, not going in nor out. But he heard laughter, one he knew intimatly, determined not to be affected he continued. His brother and James were playing on the grass, tugging at eachothers clouths and hair, joking and laughing as if all were right in the world.
Another wave of hatered run through his veins, because for them everything was perfect. Regulus was used to feeling jealosy for his brother, his bravery before his parents was something he used to adimre. Now his jealosy run cold, freezed along with his heart. Rage is a blade, they say, well they are right. Anger is all Regulus has left, if he decided to abondon it, all he would be left with would be pain, and he has enough of it already.
Anger is something beautiful, he thought, you can nature your rage, feed it and let it settle in the dark courners of your mind. You can mold it to whtever form you wish; anger is a tool. A raging fire ready to burn everything to the ground, but Regulus' rage was more like a pioson that a fire, running its course though his body, prepared to taint everything he touched. To make life wither and die before him, just like his mother did with him. Becouse Reglus was dead the moment he touch the earth, condemed to die as a useless spare to his brother, or be crushed by his mother. His fate was already decided, he knew, but if he was to die he would take everyone he pleased down to hell with him.
-Reggie? -Sirius' surprised voice cut him out of his mind, he was almost happy to be the object of Sirius' attention, then he remember the pain of being abandoned, left without question.
-What? -Regulus' face remaind stoic, his eyes dead.
-Ehm what...what are you doing here?
-It's the quidditch pitch, what do you think I came to do? Study? -Sirus was visibly struck by his agresive manner, which was reserved to everyone but him. Regulus didn't wait to hear a response, he mounted his broom and took off.
As he did his first lapses around the stands he looked down to find James watching him, just like he did weeks ago on the corridor, he was talking to Siruis. Even with the distance they had, Regulus thought he grasped an endless sadness etched on James' eyes, sure it was about his relation with Siruis, Regulus turned his eyes to the moon, and ajuested his position on the broom. As fast as he was able to, he went higher and higher and got himself lost between the stars.
When they were younger, about five or six, Andromeda and Narcissa would tell stories about how every few centuries stars would spine so fast they would cave in on themselves, dying. The stardust left, from wich the star would reborn some speacial people would be created, thats why they carried names of stars. It was a family tradition, because everytime a Black would rise, a star would die to give it it's name, then live again to give them power.
When he was a child, Regulus thought thus was magnificent, and in most ways it is, now though all Regulus can think is that it's aporpiate for the name to be created by death. Being a Black has been a synonyms for death since the beginnings of time.
-Hey reg.
-Hello Pandora, find anything interesting on the forest?
-Some mushrooms, but I did bring you some fairy wings I saw, some of them have a little blood on them and evereything. -She said, a big smile on her face as she sat down next to Regulus on the courtyard.
-This has to be the finding of the year. -Regulus replayed, as exited as her on the matter, eventhough it didn't show on his face, Pandora knew. She has been able to read Regulus since she met him the second day on first year. Pandora would never tell him, but she knew they would be best friends the moment she saw him walking to the chair where the Macgonagal waited with the sorting hat. The boy had been awfully similar to the one she had dreamt about, the same grey brilliant eyes and deep black hair. In her dream they were both walking down, near the ocean, she colud still smell the salt in the air, and no matter she hadn't exactly seen them, Pandora Knew Dorcas, Evan and Barty were there too. In the dream, a deer and a dog appared. Then it suddenly went black and she would wake up thinking she was drowning. She had the dreams multiple times, but never understood of who it was talking about, or what it meant. Dorcas was good at interpreting her visions, but not even her could comorehend the change of scenario. Most of the time, her visions never happend, as one changes desisions everytime, nithing is set in stone; but as the years grew by and Regulus started looking more and more like the Regulus on her dream, Pandora wonder if some things, even if we don't undersatand them, are just meant to be.
-Do you have anything in mind, or plan to store it?
-I have some ideas, just lacking a proper reason to take action. -Regulus said casually, a dangerous undertone that made Pandora pity those who would dare cross his spitefull friend.
-Hey Reg! -A voice screamed from behind them, as they turned a ruffeld mop of brown hair fell by their side. James was panting as he looked up to meet both Regulus and Pandora's curious eyes. As soon as he simled at them though, Regulus' eyes glazed over, a cold demenaur adapting his face in a semi permanent scowl he weared around school and shot James an annoyed glare.
-It's Regulus for you, Potter.
-Yes, well. It soedsn't come to me naturally, you know, it's... too formal.
-And we can't have you being anything but a clown now, can we? -Regulus replayed hoping to offend James and for him to leave, but all the reaction it got was a blastering laugh.
-I love it when your mean to me. It's so refilling.
-We've only talked about three times, thoughout six years.
-Yes, -James said sighing, his expreation changing between disapointment and amusment so rapidly Regulus didn't know what to make of it, and that he hated more than James himself. His whole survival depended on his ability to read a room full of people and discover what they thought and wanted of him, to use those wishes to fullfil his own needs was something he was slowly deciphering. Regulus had started acting this part with his parents long before he actually realised what he was doing, he created masks and charcters he changed and discarded as he did his own clothes. In a way they had become that, with the passing of time he had learned how to became a ghost of himself, to hid behind this many layers and live in shadows until he deemed it safe not too. Regulus had heard many students, mainly Sirius and his friends, joke that James was like the sun; warm and bright. The problem about the sun, was that once you were on his radious there was no dark courner to spy from. Regulus was trapped in the circle of light that was James Potter, and since he was eleven years old, he had been trying to decide if he hated or loved it. Some weak, childish part of him, a subconcious being that had been chipped and broken with every curse and scream from his mother, longed to be coverd by James warmth. Those broken parts of him, that had clustered together in an unmatched, stiched silhuette of a person, detested that he even wanted to.
-Hello James. -Pandoras whimsical voice raptured his trail of thought, and satring right into James' eyes she said. -I'm Pandora. Be careful James, candles end up dying because of their own fire... -She stayed silent, looking at James still, who even seeming spocked, took the warning fairly well.
-What do you want, Potter? I imagen your not here to chit chat.
-Yes, I mean, I do need something of you, only if you want of course, I will no force you to do anything, I just. Well I'm not best in potions and if you have a storage cabinet fo your own on Slughorns classroom you must be, surely. Besides he has complimented your work in some class or other, to Sirius endless annoyment. -James started rambling, bearly paussing to breath.
-So? -Regulus interapted, which cause James to realign his thoughts.
-Yes, so I was thinking that maybe you could help me out, you know? Like a study group or something.
-No. -Regulus stud and, helping Pandora do so too, wandered to the castle, James in toe, expaining why Regulus should do it. -I gain nothing from it. -He answered when ten minutes later James asked why.
-My lovely company. -With astonishing confidence. Regulus just arched his brow and looked at him.
-All the more reason to decline.
-Come on Reg, please I need to pass my exams.
-You'll owe me.
-As long you ask of me something legal and within my capabitlitys, yes I'll owe you a favor.
-Then, I agree. Meet me at the astronomy tower in three days an hour before dinner. -With that Regulus left James behind him, and he questioned wether it would become a common ending to all their conversations.