radio, someone still loves you

October passed as quickly as the leaves on the centuries-old trees frisking the edge of Hogwarts turned orange then red then a lifeless brown. Regulus seemed to improve, slowly. He didn’t disappear as often, he smiled more (as much as he ever did, at least), he buried his nose in books until the sun set. 

Exams season, too, came and went. For most of it, Evan found himself worrying about Barty. A familiar sensation, an unfamiliar subject. And it wasn’t some big heroic effort on Evan’s part – he found he kind of enjoyed worrying about Barty. Worrying about him actively wasting his potential, mostly. Because what came with his worrying was the ability to peer into a mind he could only describe as frighteningly brillant. 

He wasn’t quite sure how he hadn’t realized it sooner. Barty’s impenetrable facade had to be the result of extreme calculation. He had somehow fooled an entire student body into thinking he was some beautiful idiot, whilst managing to secure near-perfect marks in all of his classes. The night he’d found out, Evan thought back to their lectures, all the times he’d laughed off Barty’s correct response in class as a fluke or a lucky guess. He’d known everything, the whole time. It awed Evan and also made him slightly nauseous.

Though Evan had heard the swot allegations numerous times, he was never so bad that he’d actually enjoyed studying. He enjoyed reading, and learning about new spells and potions, but to say he enjoyed classwork would be taking it too far.

But, once he’d begun studying with Barty, in the abandoned Potions classroom on the fifth floor, he’d found it, honestly, exhilarating. It wasn’t like it was with Pandora, where they’d often finish each other’s thoughts in some sort of freakish twin telepathy. It wasn’t like with Regulus, where they’d work in perfect silence, trading notes wordlessly. It wasn't like with Dorcas, where he’d complain about her handwriting on her old papers and she’d threaten to take them away every few minutes.

Studying with Barty was like all of their conversations lately. Chaotic, disorganized. They argued most of the time, unsurprisingly.

“You’re swishing too mu–”

“Shut up, I am not–”

“Well it’s working for me so–”

“One more word and I’m going to swish you in the arse.”

“The fuck does that even mean?”

Or, sometimes, it went like this.

“What if instead we add in the–”

“Yeah, do that first, and then stir–”

“Counterclockwise, not clockwise.”

“Right, and according to the directions, it should turn–”

“Pale yellow?”

“Yes! And I think we should grate the daisy root, instead of crushing it.”

Barty held up the grater from their makeshift potions station. “Already done.”

It was like when they were playing Quidditch, some unspoken understanding that allowed them to communicate without even full sentences. 

Evan felt he was finally starting to understand Barty, and more surprisingly, he liked what he found. Barty reminded Evan of one of those large dogs his father was always keen on keeping on the ground. They growled and snarled at you when you first approached, but a soft pat on the head and a belly rub and they’d follow you around forever. 

And, not to sound like some self-obsessed idiot with a savior complex, but Evan rather thought he’d helped Barty that exam season, just as Barty had helped him during the Quidditch match. Actually he knew he’d helped Barty.

“Hey,” Barty had said after their last exam, approaching Evan on his way out of the Great Hall.

Barty came to stand in front of Evan. 

“I’m only going to say this once, because it’ll probably make both of us uncomfortable. But, er, thanks. For studying with me and all. First time I haven't bloody broken out in hives during exam season."

Evan had blinked at him, surprised at his honesty. “Erm, sure. Anytime.”

Barty seemed to stifle a laugh. “We’re lousy with feelings, huh?”

“Emotion’s a bitch.”

Barty walked past Evan, bumping his shoulder into the other boy’s. “That it is. Come on, let’s go wake Reggie up from his nap.”

It had been slightly difficult to keep their study sessions a secret, since Barty was still intent on hiding his intelligence from their friends, but exams season had gone on without too much suspicion. And just like that, it was the week of Halloween.

Evan was fairly neutral about Halloween, which was a rarity in their friend group. Dorcas and Regulus absolutely despised the holiday, groaning that it was just an excuse for everyone to dress sexy and make a fool out of themselves. Regulus liked to point out that wizards didn’t even dress up for Halloween traditionally – they’d simply stolen it from muggles over the years. 

Pandora and Barty, on the other hand, were mad about Halloween, decorating the boys’ dorm room with silly decorations and planning their costumes weeks in advance. Evan usually ended up getting roped into a duo costume with his sister against his will.

“So what are we being for Halloween this year?” Pandora brought up at the lunch table the week before Halloween.

“Who’s we? No way I’m dressing up for that idiotic holiday,” Dorcas grumbled, stabbing her potatoes. 

Ignoring her, Barty leaned across the table towards Pandora. “Is this the year we finally…?”

Pandora smiled craftily. “I think it is, Barty.”

“What the fuck are you two talking about?” Regulus asked, an expression of concern growing on his face. Like Evan, he seemed to sense that whatever the two were plotting was not going to be enjoyable for the rest of them.

“So, Barty and I had this idea,” Pandora began.

“Nothing good can come after than sentence,” Evan whispered to Regulus.

“Shut up, Evan,” Barty said, swatting his arm. “Listen to your sister.”

“We’re doing a group costume!” Pandora exclaimed, while Barty did jazz hands across the table.

“First of all, absolutely not,” Regulus declared.

“And second of all,” Dorcas finished, “where are we even wearing these? No way we’re going to the Halloween party Mulciber and Avery are throwing.”

They all nodded in agreement at that statement. That party was, well, awful . They’d never gone, but they’d all heard the stories of the vile things the Slytherins would plot during the parties, drunk off of whatever low-quality alcohol Mulciber had nicked from the Hog’s Head storeroom.

“We have our own little party, just us,” Pandora replied. “In our room, or the Astronomy tower maybe.”

“What exactly are we dressing up as?” Evan asked warily. 

Pandora and Barty grinned at each other.

“Remember History of Magic second year?” Barty asked, glancing around at them.

“Do you ? You were asleep on the table half of the year,” Regulus replied.

Evan shot a glance at Barty. It was odd, thinking back on those years now knowing Barty was acing his classes. Odder still that he was the only one who knew. Barty looked back at him, clearly thinking similarly. Although on his end, it was probably more like, I can’t believe somebody knows now.

“ Any ways,” Pandora interrupted. “Remember how we learned about Greek mythology?”

“Yeah, those myths were some of the earliest traces of magic,” Evan recalled.

“Wait the ones about all the gods and goddesses, you mean?” Dorcas asked.

“Exactly,” Pandora nodded. “That’s our idea. We dress up like all the different Greek gods!” 

“I get why Pandora likes this theme, but what’s in it for you ?” Regulus asked Barty pointedly.

“He gets to hold a sword and show off his muscles. Sounds like his dream,” Evan replied on Barty's behalf.

“Been noticing my muscles, huh?” Barty winked at Evan.

“More like lack thereof.”

“Ouch, I’m hurt.”

Evan turned back towards his sister, ignoring Barty’s comment. 

“I…kind of like it, honestly.”

Pandora threw her arms around Evan, her robes dangling over the gravy.

“I’m so glad! Because I already made your costume.”

Dorcas snorted. “We don’t have a choice, do we?”

“Nope!” Barty chirped.

“Who are we all going to be then?” Regulus asked.

Pandora clapped her hands together in glee. 

“Okay, so, me and Evan are going to be Artemis and Apollo, obviously, since we’re twins. Regulus should be Hades, because he’s–”

“Because he’s a moody git,” Barty supplied.

“Can’t argue with that,” Regulus drawled.

“ –Dorcas will be Athena–”

“Because she’s fucking terrifying,” Barty put in.

“ –and Barty will be–”

“Ares, the sexy god of war,” Barty finished triumphantly.

“Kill me now,” Regulus said to no one in particular. 

____________________

The next afternoon, Evan wandered the castle with a packet of fags in his pocket. Barty was in detention for Merlin-knows-what and Regulus was flying laps with Dorcas, leaving Evan alone for the afternoon. Not that he minded. Evan enjoyed exploring the castle on his own, stopping for a smoke every now and then.

That particular afternoon, he didn’t feel like making the long trek up to the Astronomy Tower. Instead, he exited the doors, stepping onto the Hogwarts grounds. It was unusually warm for October, albeit cloudy, and as he walked further from the castle, he reckoned the greenhouse would be a lovely place to stop and have a smoke.

As he entered the large structure though, he quickly found he wasn’t the only one who’d had the idea. Remus Lupin leaned against an empty wooden table in the back, holding a fag between his fingers.

Fuck . Evan didn’t think Lupin would beat him up or anything – though it rather looked like he could if he wanted to – but Evan had punched one of his mates just a few weeks back. So it was safe to say the two weren’t on friendly terms.

As he turned to walk out, though, he heard a gravelly voice call out to him.

“You leaving, Rosier?”

Evan turned partially. “Just looking for a place to smoke. Didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You can smoke here, if you’d like.”

Evan rotated to face Lupin, staring curiously at his face. He didn’t sound hostile. If anything, he sounded… nice . Which made Evan slightly suspicious, but, frankly, he was too desperate for a smoke to care.

“Sure, alright.”

Evan walked towards the table, learning against it like Lupin. He reached into his pocket to fish out his packet of fags.

“You know, I have this with me,” Lupin said, bringing out what looked like a single fag wrapped in plastic.

“What is that?” Evan asked, eyeing the package.

“A spliff. You ever tried one?”

“No, what is it?”

Lupin unwrapped it from the package, holding it up towards the light.

“It’s like a special fag. It gives you a longer high, makes you feel kind of loopy.”

He held it out towards Evan, a silent question.

“Well, light it up then.”

Lupin murmured something and the spliff lit, smoke unfurling from the end.

“Merlin, that smells terrible,” Evan muttered.

Taking a drag, Lupin smirked. “You get used to it. I rather like it now, actually.”

He held it out to Evan once again, who accepted it warily. Evan held it between his lips, breathing in the same way he did with a fag. He felt the smoke enter his lungs, burning in the same magical way that a regular smoke did. 

After a few more hits, Evan began to feel the high, a calming haze settling over his senses.

“This is bloody amazing,” Evan giggled.

Lupin chuckled. “It is, isn’t it?”

They smoked it silently for a while longer, passing the spliff back and forth. It was odd, smoking with Lupin. They’d never been enemies, but they’d never really been friends either. Evan regarded all of Sirius’s friends with the same, often distasteful, manner. They were too loud and brash for Evan’s liking much of the time, and they villainized Slytherins for no apparent reason. Even Sirius’s own brother.

Although, Evan supposed Lupin had always been the quietest of the lot. Evan didn’t think he was innocent – in fact, quite the obvious. The boy always had a slightly crazed look in his eye that told Evan there was more than what was on the surface. But he was more bearable than the others, at least.

“What are you lot doing for Halloween?” Lupin asked suddenly.

“Nothing, really. Probably just hanging out in our dorm.” 

“We’re throwing a party, you know. In the Gryffindor common room.”

Evan did know. The Gryffindors usually threw Halloween parties, but this year the Marauders , as they called themselves, were old enough to take charge of them. And take charge they did. The boys had been talking about it around the castle for weeks.

“I’ve heard,” Evan replied, unsure what Lupin was getting at.

“You guys should come.”

Evan almost laughed out loud. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Lupin looked him in the eye, almost challengingly. “Why not?”

“For starters, last time we were all together, I punched Potter in the face.”

Lupin waved it off. “James doesn’t care. If anything, he probably respects you more for it. He could stand to get knocked around a bit every now and then.”

Evan stared at him. They really were all insane.

“And second,” Evan continued. “did you forget that Regulus hates Sirius? No way he’d go to his party.”

Lupin’s gaze softened a bit. “Sirius wants him there.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, but I know him. He wants a chance to make things right.”

“Even if that was true, there’s no way Regulus would ever agree. Sorry, Lupin.”

Lupin seemed to consider Evan’s words for a moment.

“I’ll make it work,” he declared. “Just ask your friends.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Lupin, I admire the effort. But how the hell are you planning on doing that?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lupin replied absently, his mind already somewhere else.

“It’s your funeral,” Evan mused, taking a last drag of the spliff before standing up straight.

“Well, I’ll see you around, Lupin.”

“Remus,” he corrected.

Evan smiled in spite of himself. “Evan,” he said, holding a hand out to Remus.

Remus shook it, a smirk on his lips. 

“I’ll see you at the party, Evan.”

Oddly enough, it wasn’t the worst prospect.

Evan walked through the castle quickly. The afternoon had turned to evening, and in turn, the warm weather had been traded for the usual October chill. As he opened the door to his dorm, Evan saw his friends assembled on their rug, playing a round of cards, The Beatles playing softly in the background.

“Where the hell have you been?” Dorcas asked, not looking up from her cards.

“Just smoking,” Evan replied, removing his jacket and shoes.

“Smoking with who?” Dorcas looked up at him, wrinkling her nose. “You smell like weed.”

“Oh, just Remus Lupin,” Evan mumbled, placing his jacket back in his trunk. He turned to find his friends staring at him.

“Since when do you smoke with Remus Lupin?” Barty demanded, eyeing Evan suspiciously.

“It’s not like we’re smoking buddies,” Evan protested. “I just saw him in the greenhouse and he offered me some of his spliff. S’not a big deal.”

“I like Remus,” Pandora remarked. “He has a lovely aura.”

“I rather like him too,” Regulus said. “Except for the fact that he’s friends with my brother.”

Evan took their reactions as a sign to bring up what Remus had told him to do.

“So, Remus invited us to the Gryffindor Halloween party,” Evan began, surveying his friends’ expressions.

“No way in hell,” Regulus said. 

“I’m not saying we should go. He just wanted me to tell you all.”

“I would only go if we all did,” Dorcas said. “If Reggie isn’t going, I won’t either.”

They all nodded in agreement. In his head, Evan told Remus, I told you so . He wasn’t sure what Remus was planning that would suddenly change Regulus’s mind.

The next day at breakfast, it became apparent. As the mail came in, a large owl dropped a letter on Regulus’s plate.

“Doesn’t look like a Howler,” Barty remarked. They’d witnessed Sirius get Howlers from Walburga numerous times throughout the past three years.

Regulus opened the letter gingerly. His eyebrows scrunched together, then raised, and then he let out a sigh, seemingly of relief. He passed the letter to Evan, who was sitting to his left.

Regulus,

Narcissa has informed us that you have been chosen to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas Break for a Potions apprenticeship with Professor Slughorn. We will allow it, but you must write home often informing us of your progress. You will return home in June.

Your Mother

Evan looked toward Regulus confusedly. “What Potions apprenticeship?”

Before Regulus could answer, Sirius approached their table, without his pack of Gryffindors this time.

“You got her letter, I see.”

“You were responsible for this?” Regulus asked, staring back at Sirius. 

“Cissy owed Andromeda a favor.”

“Why did you do this?”

“For you,” Sirius stated simply. “I didn’t mean to abandon you, Reggie. I want to help you get out too.”

“One Christmas at Hogwarts is helping me get out?” Regulus demanded.

“It’s a start, right? James’s dad said he’ll help us get some of your stuff from your room over the break. He can apparate in when Mother and Father aren’t not home. I want you to come live with the Potters this summer.”

“Why would I do that, Sirius?”

“We’re brothers, Reg.”

“That didn’t seem to matter when you left in the middle of the night,” Regulus snapped. 

Sirius glanced at Regulus again, then turned to leave. He took a couple steps forward, then turned back around.

“I was an idiot, Reg. I don’t know why I did it. I just got so angry that I needed to get out of there. I regretted leaving you the minute I got to the Potters.”

And right there, in the Hogwarts dining hall, Evan saw Regulus’s eyes form tears. But, knowing Regulus, he wouldn’t let them drop.

“Was I so easy to leave, Siri?” Regulus whispered, seemingly forgetting the others around him.

“ No , Reggie. I was the arsehole who only protected his own arse. But if you let me help, I promise I will never leave you again.”

Regulus blinked up at him.

“You don’t have to give me an answer now. Just think about it, okay?”

To Evan’s surprise, Regulus nodded.

Sirius looked towards Evan.

“I heard Remus invited you to the Halloween party. You all should come, really.”

Then he looked toward Regulus again. He reached into his bag and held out a small plush dragon, its tail falling apart slightly. Regulus accepted it with shaky hands, glancing up towards Sirius with an indecipherable expression in his eyes. Fondness, perhaps, uncertainty, and hurt as well.

“Give me a chance to fix this, Reg.”

And with that, he turned back towards the Gryffindor table.

Pandora leaned across the table, grabbing Regulus’s hand.

“How do you feel, Reg?” she asked concernedly. 

“I-I’m not sure,” he murmured, his hand grasping the dragon tightly.

“You know you don’t have to give him a chance if you don’t want to,” Dorcas said.

Barty nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Evan can punch Sirius this time, if you’d like.”

Evan groaned. “I’ll be hearing about this until my deathbed.”

“What is that?” Dorcas gestured towards the dragon in Regulus’s hand.

Regulus mouth quirked up a little. “It was my childhood toy. Our Uncle Alphard got it for me, from Romania or something. I used to sleep with it every night.”

“Why does Sirius have it?” Pandora asked softly.

“When we got to Hogwarts, we traded dragons. Sirius said if we had each other’s dragons, we’d always be together, in some way.”

Regulus looked up at them, holding the dragon close to his heart.

“Maybe we can go. To the party, I mean.”

“Are you sure?”

Regulus and Pandora seemed to have a silent conversation across the table.

“Yeah. I’d like to talk to Sirius about this anyways. And the rest of you can have fun.”

“Especially since Evan’s bestfriends with Lupin now,” Barty mocked.

Dorcas patted Barty on the arm. “We’re allowed to have friends outside of you, you know.”

Barty stared at her. “Why would you ever want to though?”

As they began to argue, Evan leaned over towards Regulus.

“Are you sure about this?” he whispered in Regulus’s ear. “Don’t feel pressured by Sirius.”

“I know it’s surprising for me,” Regulus started. “But I kind of want to hear him out.” 

He sighed, locking eyes with Evan.

“I hate it, Evan. I know I shouldn’t forgive him, but I can’t not care about Sirius. He’s my brother.”

Evan smiled at him softly. “I know, Reg.” He glanced over at Barty, who was still arguing with Dorcas. “I’ve learned that sometimes it’s worth giving people a chance.”

Regulus’s eyes flicked down to the dragon in his lap. 

“I hope so.”