regulus is a pathological liar
The amount of distrust Regulus had in hairdressers was, honestly, pretty scary.
But it couldn’t be wavered.
So he was standing in the mirror holding a pair of pink butterfly scissors he had borrowed from Pandora with an array of different-sized hairs around him on the bathroom sink and floor.
He tilted his head to the side, contemplating whether he liked the trim or not.
Ah, fuck it , he thought, shaking his head and ruffling his hair, looking in the mirror one last time before not cleaning up and leaving his bathroom in a state akin to what he felt every time he saw a Colleen Hoover book being romanticised. He grabbed his backpack and slammed the door shut.
Two minutes later he was back to his flat, grabbing his mask and phone and closing the door again.
He hopped into the lift, stuffing his mask into his bag.
He stepped into the lift and pulled his phone out before he felt someone poke his cheek.
The fuck-?
He turned his head and made direct eye contact with Sirius.
“Sirius?”
“Why, what an acute observation!”
“Fuck off.”
“Someone call Harvard! Yale! Princeton!”
“How are you only familiar with American universities?”
“That’s besides the point, Reggiekins,”
“You’re right.
“I am?”
“The point is, what the fuck are you doing here?”
“Well, I’m here to see you, actually.”
“You don’t say,”
“Bugger off, did you change your hair?”
“No.”
“Anyways, I needed to give you this.”
Sirius handed him a sealed envelope, akin to something he saw now only in his nightmares.
Wax seal, fancy lettering and some stupid fancy border design that probably cost a fortune to print for approximately a hundred people.
“What’s it for?”
Sirius shuffled around awkwardly. At that point they were just standing in the lift going around the building.
“Uh, so you know how Uncle Alphard… um…”
“Yeah.”
“Well the corporation of dickheads decided that his personal funeral with the people he actually liked wasn’t enough, and that he should have a nice big public stuffy funeral with everyone he’s ever made professional contact with that had a net worth. And we’re invited, apparently.”
“The fuck?” Regulus muttered as he skimmed over the invitation.
Regulus looked up at Sirius.
“You going?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Well I’m going too.”
“We need a chauffeur, so I was thinking of James, if that’s alright with you.”
They walked out onto the street, stopping at the crossing.
“Okay, whatever.”
Holy shit, this James guy was everywhere.
Something was about to happen. Regulus could sense it. With his “Spidey sense” as Evan so fondly called it. He looked around, trying to appear as casual as possible, spotting a car speeding around the corner.
His hand flew out to block Sirius just as he was about to cross and walk directly into the speeding car.
“What the-“ Sirius started before staring at Regulus incredulously.
“What.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and kept walking with Sirius trailing behind him.
“You’re strong, wait,” he ran up to him and felt his biceps. “You’re ripped, what the fuck?”
Regulus gave him an odd look and rolled his eyes, obviously he knew he was pretty strong - had to be for the whole Spiderman gig.
“Is that it? Can I go now?”
Sirius, trying to poke Regulus’ abs (and getting slapped away), huffed and replied.
“I wasn’t stopping you, go participate whatever underground boxing ring you’re in apparently.”
🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️
“Ach, stop messing up my hair, fuckwit,” Regulus batted Evan’s hand away from his hair.
“I can’t help it, it’s just… our little Reggie’s all grown up and ready to go to Welton Academy!” Evan mock gushed and posed closely with Barty as a stereotypical husband and wife duo before they realised what they were doing and stiffened up, shuffling awkwardly.
“I’m literally going to my uncle’s funeral, isn’t there a whole bro code rule thing about not messing with your mate when it’s his uncle’s funeral?”
“Hey, don’t disrespect the bro code, firstly. Secondly… I actually don’t know. You’re gonna have to check with Marlene on that one.” Barty took a swig out of his beer bottle.
“Why does Marlene know the bro- whatever. I don’t even know why I try with you two.” Evan and Barty fistbumped without looking.
Barty rolled his eyes and shoved his beer into Evan’s chest before stepping forward and fixing Regulus’ tie.
“Didn’t you already know how to do this?”
Regulus shrugged.
“I kind of made myself unlearn it.”
“Anyways, what are you going to go and do today?” Evan leaned against the counter, chugging a solid half of the beer.
Regulus rolled his eyes and recited monotonously.
“Be the badass, charismatic and hot brotherly duo with Sirius, showing the stuffy pricks at the funeral how we’re the real descendants of the late Alphard Black and how disowning us did nothing to our self-esteems and cool-factors.”
“Precisely, and what are you definitely not going to do?”
“Slouch in the uncool way, whatever that is, cower to the idiots over at the funeral when they try to demean me and never ever ever drink a ‘Sweaty Mexican’.”
“Okay, you’re perfect,” Barty held his shoulders and ruffled his hair again.
“Uh, great, thanks guys, really.” Regulus walked over and picked up his backpack. When he looked back, Barty and Evan were staring at him disapprovingly.
“What?”
They both nodded towards the backpack.
“You have pockets for a reason.” Evan reprimanded.
Regulus groaned and started grabbing his phone, keys and wallet and stuffing them into the pocket of his suit jacket.
“But-”
“You don’t need anything else .” Evan looked at him meaningfully, sensing his hesitance to leave his suit and mask at home.
“Huh?” Barty looked between them helplessly.
“His inhaler.” Evan explained.
“Huh, didn’t know you had asthma, Reggie.”
Barty and Evan started herding Regulus towards the door before he could back out and spend the rest of the night rocking in a curled up ball in the corner of his shower.
“Your flat is literally gonna be fine, dude.”
“Tip-top shape.”
“It’ll be like you never left.”
“We’ll buy food for your hangover.”
“You’re gonna have so much fun acting better than everyone else there.”
“Don’t release too much information about your personal life.”
Regulus turned around to face them once he was outside the door and into the hallway.
“Okay. I’m ready.”
“Great, give our love to the body of Alfie,” Barty patted him on the shoulder.
“His body isn’t going to be there, it’s just going to be business wanderings that everybody’s gonna want a part of.”
“Oh. Lame. Buh-bye!”
Regulus stood there for a few seconds, having his own door slammed in his face, before shaking his head and walking to where Sirius said he and James would be parked.
🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️
“Nice suit, very snazzy,” Sirius snorted as Regulus slid into the backseat of the black bulletproof-looking car.
“You’re literally wearing the same thing I am.”
Sirius ignored him (no surprise) and turned to James.
“Oi, Prongs, did you know that Reggie’s fuckin’ ripped?” He poked Regulus’ arm through the shirt and turned to James again. “Feel!”
Regulus turned to Sirius, swatting his arm away. “Shut up,” - he turned to James - “don’t.”
James retracted his arm from where he was about to poke Regulus as well, sheepishly grinning, turning around and reversing out of the road.
“So anyways guys, as much as I would love to be an active part of your reintroduction to the rest of the Black family as badass black sheep at the badass black sheep’s funeral, I do have a thing to get to, so no dramatic montages of you two getting out of the car, please. And besides, you could do the thing where you pretend to pay me and I definitely don’t pocket the cash and rush off like we’re in Mission Impossible.”
Regulus nudged Sirius and mouthed “he talks too much”.
Sirius shrugged knowingly and rolled down the window, sticking his arm out like a kid.
“That’s fine, Prongs.”
Regulus hoped that James was an awful driver and crashed the car specifically where Regulus was sitting so he died and didn’t have to go to this thing.
Admittedly, that wasn’t a very gracious approach to his uncle’s funeral.
🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️🕸️
Regulus winced as he heard the car screech away behind him, hidden behind his sunglasses.
“You sure Uncle Alphard would be alright with us using his second funeral as an opportunity for us to be cool?”
“He hated shitty sequels, he’d be completely fine with it.”
“Who’s gonna be there, anyways?”
“Besides the boring company people, our dear cousins, the Malfoys, a few of the Zabinis, and I think Andy managed to sneak in Ted.
Oh, and I guarantee there will be people that don’t know about your inheritance, so if they ask where Walburga and Orion are, do that blank Regulus eye stare thing and tell them ‘dead.’ ”
“Wait, what Regulus eye stare thing?”
“You know, you tilt your head down and half-lid your eyes and you kinda look like Cillian Murphy, except less sexy.”
“Excuse you, I am extremely sexy.”
“Uhh, no you aren’t .”
“Whatever, I’m not arguing about my sexiness with you.”
They rolled their shoulders back and stepped inside the doors to the gala under the guise of a funeral.
People were milling past each other holding champagne glasses that were, without doubt, spiked by some bitter server. Polite smiles and lightly clenched jaws. Soft chuckles and too many mentions of the “company”, whatever it was. Tulle from black dresses and the ties about to be loosened an hour later by some married man’s mistress in the bathrooms.
It was everything Regulus had grown to hate, yet naturally thrive in.
Regulus “thrived” by staying quiet. By collecting as much information as possible by staring sullenly as people made small talk to him, but never with him. It had taken everything in him to not slip in through the doors and navigate his way through the outside of the funeral.
He knew eyes were on him and Sirius almost as soon as they entered the classism parlour. Shifty glances at them mid-conversation and raised eyebrows above wine glasses. The disowned Black brothers. The ones who ended a bloodline.
Regulus was only searching for one pair of eyes. Eerily similar to his own, except with more green. When he felt the extra pair of eyes on him and Sirius, he knew he had found her. Narcissa.
He nudged Sirius with his shoulder, indicating his departure and strolled up to Narcissa, trying to fill as much of his frame as possible as he walked.
“Cissa,” he smiled quaintly at her and observed her ticking jaw.
“Regulus.” Her eyes slid slyly around them before leaning in further and whispering to him. “What are you two doing here? You’ve already been to the proper funeral.”
“We were invited.” He didn’t match her posture, still standing shock-straight.
She scoffed at him. “As if you were actually going to come. You two have been ignoring invitations for years. Don’t tell me to expect you to actually show up.”
“Who decided this?”
“What?”
“This funeral. Who’s idea was it?”
“Mine.”
Now it was Regulus’ turn to scoff. “I know it wasn’t. Who’s idea was it?”
“Lucius.”
He sighed. “Narcissa,”
“Regulus no. ”
“Is this still going on? How many years has it been?”
“None of your business. You don’t understand.”
“What don’t I understand? That that man took away any running chance you had of actually doing something for yourself?”
“Well, thanks,”
“You know that isn’t what I meant. You can’t let him do this any longer.”
“Do what , exactly? Because last I heard, you’re nineteen . As if you’d know what it’s been like. Reputations are far more cutthroat than you know. You already got away, why are you coming back? If you really want to help yourself, Regulus, leave. ”
“You know I can’t.”
She smiled at him self-deprecatingly.
“Yeah, I know. But it was good seeing you Reg, really.”
His eyes softened knowingly. “You too. And if you do need anywhere to go, you know where.”
“Andromeda wanted to see you.”
“I- yeah. Yeah.”
He spun on his heel and looked around as haughtily as he could for Andy.
He caught Sirius’ slightly panicked eye from across the room and walked over to him instead. Him and Bellatrix.
Once she noticed him she grinned at both of them. It wasn’t an accommodating grin, it was more akin to Bruce from Finding Nemo.
“Aww, Baby Black’s here as well!”
“Yeah yeah, hello Bellatrix.”
“I was just telling your brother here about the new company Daddy’s planning on starting, weren’t you doing a business course?”
Yeah, before Walburga and Orion fucking died, idiot.
“Yeah, lightly.”
“Oh great, so you’d know all about business, right?”
Stop being so criticising, Art the Clown.
“Uh, I-“
“The statements are starting,” Sirius butted in, grabbing Regulus and half dragging him to their seats.
For once, Regulus wholly appreciated Sirius’ blatant ability to never read a room properly.
They slumped down in their chairs near the back (great spot for close family members, by the way) and Lucius (that fucker) stood up at the podium and started presenting his hollow and useless speech.
“Welcome all, we are gathered here today to celebrate the life of Alphard Black. Even after his disownment and emancipation, his living family has decided to host another funeral honouring his professional relationships, including all of his business associates…”
Regulus was completely zoned out three minutes in, just like in maths class. The blatant disrespect of Alphard’s name was appalling, but what could they do about it? He and Sirius had decided that the only way to truly live out what Alphard would have wanted would be to rock up and badmouth the whole family.
He heard Sirius’ breath slightly catch next to him and him harshly whispering in his ear.
“Deadpool’s here!”
What the ass?
This guy couldn’t leave Regulus alone even out of suit.
He turned around and glared at Deadpool’s direction, who was standing up the back looking somewhat like a bodyguard.
Except in red with katanas and guns strapped on him.
“Why is he here?” He hissed at Sirius.
“Apparently Uncle Alphard really helped him out or something. I guess they’re mates now.”
He walked over to sit in the seat directly behind him and Sirius as Regulus rolled his eyes.
“What, not a big fan?” Sirius asked.
“I don’t like superheroes.” Regulus stated.
“So you don’t like Spider-Man?”
“No. Don’t like Spider-Man at all.”
Regulus heard the shuffling of leather behind him and Deadpool’s annoying, agitating, toe curling, eye splintering, infuriating, exasperating voice behind him.
“How long’s this thing gonna go for?”
He looked up to the ceiling, mentally cursing whoever gave birth to this idiot and answered shortly.
“Fuck if I know.”
“Aren’t you meant to be related to this guy?”
“It’s not like I approved this sorry excuse for a funeral.”
"Hey, what's your name?"
"Regulus. Regulus Arcturus Black."
"What the shit?"
Some old lady near them shushed them as if she wasn’t there to support her her racist and sexist husband as he pretended to know Alphard.
Remember that guy who had a mistress and got his tie (and other things) loosened in the bathroom by his scandalously young mistress Regulus had mentioned earlier?
Yeah, that was probably his wife.