cracked shells

There’s a word that Regulus can’t work his brain around. Indeterminacy. He stares at it until it doesn’t look real anymore, looping the letters around in his head as if somehow the answer will come to him. He tries to read past it and continue with the page, but his mind just keeps going back to it. Eventually, he resigns to shutting the book and asking Harry about it. 

As soon as Harry comes back, that is. 

Harry left earlier that morning with Sam and another boy named Jack, but wouldn’t tell Regulus where he was going. For the past few hours Regulus has been slightly afraid he might have scared the other boy off with how much he was begging to come along. When the door shut in front of Regulus’ face that morning, a pit formed in his stomach and he ran away to his book, shoving all thoughts of Harry out.

But now he doesn’t know what ‘indeterminacy’ means, so he’s hit a wall. Regulus leans over and opens the drawer to his bedside table, carefully setting the book down and closing it. He’s halfway through Dune, which Harry says is impressive for only having been reading it for a month at his age.

He just hopes that Harry doesn’t hate him now. 

Regulus picks at his fingernails, tearing off a hangnail that’s been annoying him for the past few hours. He’d been subconsciously picking at it while he was reading, which made it easier to tear off now. He absentmindedly sticks the finger in his mouth when it starts to bleed, stopping the blood before it can somehow find its way onto his sheets like it did last week. His eyes fall to his left hand, sitting in the center of his lap.

He didn’t believe the burn would ever have healed, but it did. Now in its wake sits a huge scar, which Harry said is as prominent as it is because of all those blisters Regulus kept popping and how much he’d pick at the scabs once they’d started forming. It’s not completely healed--a month isn’t that long of a time--but it’s almost there. If he runs his finger over the area, all he’ll find are bumps and healed skin, though the sensation in his left palm is almost gone so he wouldn’t exactly feel it. Harry said that doesn’t usually happen with burns like Regulus’, but he likely just got unlucky.

Regulus pops his finger out of his mouth, staring at the spot where he tore the hangnail off and watching as blood slowly begins to seep back out. He wipes it off on his shirt, deciding to ignore it and climbing out of bed, making his way out of the room and slinking past the boy who Regulus always finds out passed on the bed nearest to the door. 

“Have you seen Harry?” Regulus asks the first face he recognizes once he opens the doors to the main bar area. 

The girl shakes her head, smiling sympathetically at him. Regulus thinks her name is Sarah. “Sorry love, but I think he’s still out.” She glances towards the door. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything, yeah?”

He nods, waiting until she smiles in response before he’s able to get himself out of the way and towards the kitchens. 

The first person he sees when he opens the door is Sam, then Charlotte next to him. They both glance over their shoulders at the door opening and give him twin grins, greeting him. Sam kicks the chair next to him out with his foot, leaving Regulus an easy path to sit down.

They’re at the table in the corner of the room, next to the shelves stocked with so many different brands of alcohol that it makes Regulus’ head spin just looking at them all. 

“How'd you sleep?” Sam asks, taking a sip out of the drink in front of him.

Regulus shrugs. He’d been up reading most of the night. “Good.”

He smiles slightly. “That's good.”

There's a small gap of silence before Charlotte breaks it with a slight cough. “Do you want some pudding, Regulus?”

He perks up, nodding immediately. “Yes, please.”

She finishes off her glass of clear liquid and makes her way over to the fridge and pulls out a cup of pudding. She refills her glass as well, generously filling it to the top. She takes the lid off of his pudding and sticks a spoon in it, then hands it back to him on her way to her chair. 

She sits, giving Sam a light kiss on the cheek and rubbing his shoulder. He grins, moving to kiss her properly on the lips once she's completely sat down.

Regulus shifts in his seat, choosing to focus back on his pudding and swirl it around in circles. He licks the spoon clean. His attention wanders over to his hand, at the white and red scar etched over his palm. He wonders if it’s going to stay like that forever, or if it’ll look normal again one day.

“Regulus?”

He looks up.

Charlotte tilts her head, Sam's arm wrapped around her shoulders. “Do you speak any other languages?”

He pauses, then shrugs.

She furrows her brows. “Wouldn't you know if you spoke anything other than English, though?”

He shrugs again. He’s been thinking in English for as long as he can remember.

She stares at him for another second, then seems to let the matter go.

“Lottie and I are going to the park later,” says Sam. “Do you think you'd want to go?”

Regulus thinks for a moment. “Will Harry be there?”

Sam raises a brow, almost as if he's amused. “How am I supposed to know? Ask him later.”

Regulus shrugs again, his stomach twisting. “I'll go.”

Sam grins. “Wicked.”

Regulus scrapes the bottom of his pudding cup, eating the last little bit left in the container before getting up and wandering over to the trash to throw it away. He looks back at Sam and Charlotte, the two of them whispering to each other with low voices. He bites his lip and glances at the door, then back at them. He hesitates but ultimately makes his way out of the room without a word. The two of them don’t notice him leave, too caught up in other to care.

He goes back up the stairs and into his room. He pulls the covers over his legs, sinking into the pillow propped up against the wall. He doesn’t know what to do. He can’t read--not until he knows what that word means. Harry isn’t here, and he doesn’t know anyone else except for Sam and Charlotte, but they’re doing their own thing. He picks at his fingernails again. They’re cold. 

A minute later, he’s back out of bed, going down the stairs again to check if Harry’s there.

It shocks Regulus when he is.

“Harry!” He runs through the bar, narrowly managing to avoid crashing into two different people on the way. He slams into the other boy, wrapping his arms around his waist. “You were gone for too long,” he mumbles into his stomach.

Harry places an arm around Regulus’ shoulders, his hands warm. “I’m back now, aren’t I?” Regulus can hear the smile in his voice.

“Where were you?” Regulus looks up, meeting Harry’s eyes. “What’d you do?”

His face falters for a moment, then he smiles. “Nothing.”

“What does ‘indeterminacy’ mean?”

If Harry’s surprised by the abruptness of the question, he doesn’t show it. He tilts his head in thought. “That’s a good one. How about we think about it on the way back to the room?”

Regulus nods feverishly, dragging Harry by the hand back to the stairs.

“Slow down, Reg.” Harry laughs, jogging to keep up.

“Sorry.” He drops Harry’s hand, slowing down to a better speed and immediately going back to picking at his fingernails. 

Harry smiles slightly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. What was that word again?”

“‘Indeterminacy.’” Regulus watches Harry with wide eyes, staring at his face as he thinks.

“I think it means something that isn’t known, or that can’t be determined. You see how the word determined is in the middle of it? Adding that ‘in’ to the beginning means it’s not determined.”

Regulus considers it. “That makes sense.”

Harry smiles fully now, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m glad.”

“Can you finish that story from yesterday?” Regulus pushes open the door, spotting that the room’s empty. He distantly wonders where the other guy went. “The one about the boys and the pirates?”

“Sure.” Harry walks over to the beds, sitting down on his just as Regulus is tucking himself under his covers. “Where’d we leave off at?”

“The part about the running in the forest.”

“Right.” He clears his throat. “So, as the boys ran through the forest, cutting through the trees and jumping over rocks, they soon realized they were heading straight for the edge of a cliff.”

Regulus’ eyes widen slightly.

“Will shouted over to his friends, screaming that they weren’t going to make it. They could hear the shouts of the pirates behind them, slashing through the branches with their silver swords. Pierre stumbled over a root, but Liam grabbed his arm and helped him pick himself up off the ground. The next second, they broke through the trees, stopping just in time at the edge of the cliff. Will looked down over the ledge, seeing no less than a kilometer separating them from the water. The pirates were getting louder and louder behind them.”

“How’d they get away?”

Harry grins. “Just then, one of the stars in the sky began to twinkle brighter and brighter. It began to glow so bright that Liam had to cover his eyes. The next moment, it exploded into a spray of dust, and in its place, a fairy appeared and flew down to them.”

“A fairy?” His mouth falls open.

Harry hums. “With red hair and eyes so green they were like emeralds. She flew down to the boys and sprinkled them with magical dust. The next second, they started to float into the air, laughing as they flew away from the edge of the cliff and out over the open water.”

“They got away?” Regulus grins, sitting up slightly straighter in bed.

“That they did. By the time the pirates got to the edge of the cliff to try and stop them, they were already halfway back to their hideout, safe and sound.”

“What happened to the fairy?”

“She went back to the stars, disappearing until they needed her help again. The boys flew and flew, making circles in the sky and singing from the tops of their lungs until they spotted their house in the trees, perfectly safe and intact. They landed just as the fairy dust wore off, then went to bed.”

“So the fairy had magic? Is that how they flew?”

Harry hums in affirmation. “All types of magic. She had magical dust that could make people fly, wings that could help her shoot through the sky as fast as one of those ships in Dune, and she could create anything with her bare hands. When it was dry and hot outside, she could make it rain, and when it was cold and snowing, she could create fire from a snap of her fingers.”

“Woah.” Regulus blinks, falling back onto his pillow. “I wish I had magic.” He glances back at Harry. “Do you think I’d remember my life if I did?”

Harry seems to consider it for a moment. “Maybe. But there’s always a chance you’ll remember it someday, isn’t there? You don’t need magic for that, Reg--I think you have it in you already.”

Regulus beams. “Really?”

Harry nods. “Really. And even if you don’t, you’ve got me.” He runs a hand through Regulus’ hair, messing it all up. “I’ll always be here for you, yeah?”

Regulus’ smile grows. He reaches over to his table, taking the book back out and carefully flipping to the last page he was on.

Harry smiles at the action, leaning back into his bed as he continues. “Since you’re taking such good care of that one, maybe once you finish you could try another one of my books?”

“Another one?” Regulus has to stop his mouth from falling open again. “How many do you have?”

Harry’s smile grows. “About two dozen.” He opens the bottom portion of his nightstand, showing a few stacks of weathered books. “This, Regulus, is my library.”

Regulus is out of his bed in a second, Dune discarded on the bed as he sits on the floor and runs a hand over the spines of the books. “They’re beautiful.” He looks up at Harry. “Where’d you find all these?”

“Well, they’re not that hard to get. Not nearly as hard as Dune was, at least.” He scratches the back of his neck. “But whenever I’d have some money to spare I’d go and buy one I thought was interesting at the shop, and eventually I managed to get this many.”

Regulus takes one out and flips through the pages. To Kill A Mockingbird. Why someone would write a book about killing birds, he has no idea, but he trusts Harry that it’s interesting. He looks up. “Which ones can I read?”

“Any of them, as long as you take good care of the one you pick.” He puts his hand back on Regulus’ shoulder, and he leans into it.

Regulus jumps up, throwing his arms around Harry and knocking him back onto his mattress. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He smiles into Harry’s shoulder and feels as if he’s flying straight through the sky.

Harry wraps his arms around him the same, sitting back up so that he places Regulus’ feet firmly back onto the floor. “How about you get ready for dinner?”

Regulus nods firmly, taking his discarded book and placing it in the drawer once more. They go downstairs together after that, picking up some chicken from the bar and eating it outside together. Regulus watches the traffic go by, observing the people across the road and watching as people have conversations in their cars. He’d like to drive one of them one day. 

Eventually, Sam and Charlotte step outside, and Regulus doesn’t manage to notice they’re there until Sam’s speaking right into his ear. 

“Regulus! Are you still up for going to the park?”

Regulus’ head snaps over to him and Charlotte, who’s smiling at him from behind Sam. He opens his mouth to answer, but Harry beats him to it.

“Actually, Regulus and I were about to go get ice cream.” Harry smiles at the two of them. “Maybe next time though?”

Sam’s face turns slightly odd for a moment, but then he snorts. “Whatever. See you later, Reg.” They walk off, Sam wrapping an arm around Charlotte as they go. 

Regulus looks back at Harry. “Are we really getting ice cream?”

Harry’s eyes snap away from the couple and back to Regulus a second later. “We are now.” He glances down at Regulus’ half-eaten chicken. “Are you going to eat more or are you done?”

Regulus looks down, his face twisting. “I’d rather get ice cream.”

Harry laughs slightly. “Ice cream it is.” He takes his and Regulus’ plates and tosses them in the trash inside the bar. A few seconds later he walks back out, taking Regulus’ hand and leading him across the street. “I know a place a few blocks away.”

And so they walk, Regulus completely zoning out in terms of watching the moving vehicles around him and instead choosing to stare at the buildings. He’s only been this far away from a bar a few times, so everything still seems so bright and new. Every once in a while Harry squeezes his hand to stop, and they have to wait a minute or two to cross the road. Regardless, they get to the ice cream place relatively quickly.

Regulus runs inside, pressing his face up to the glass and staring at all the flavors. Harry eventually comes up behind him, placing an arm on his shoulder. “Any idea of what you want?”

Regulus shakes his head. “Which ones do you like?”

“Well, I’d say I’m more of a chocolate man myself, but you can ask to try some.”

Regulus looks up. “I can?”

Harry nods. “Do any of them look good?”

Regulus looks around the bunch, pointing to the pink one in the corner.

“That’s strawberry.”

Regulus lights up. “Strawberries? I’ll get that one then.”

“You don’t want to try it first?”

Regulus shakes his head. “It’s strawberries, it can’t be bad.”

Harry shrugs. “Whatever you say.” He looks up and away from Regulus, ordering a cone of chocolate and one of strawberry with a kind smile. He hands over some money, and before he knows it Regulus has a cone of strawberry icecream in his hands.

He takes a bite, his eyes widening. “This is good. It’s better than the vanilla Sam brought me last time.” He looks up at Harry, who’s taking a bite of his own. “Is that one good?”

Harry nods. “Do you want to try?”

Regulus hesitates for a second, not knowing if Harry really wants him to be eating his ice cream but he eventually nods. Harry extends it forward and Regulus takes a small lick off the side, his eyes widening even more. “That one’s even better.”

“You can get that one next time then! Chocolate’s always been my favorite.” He takes another bite of his cone. “But you like the strawberry one, right? Or else we could switch.”

Regulus nods instantly, taking another bite of his for good measure. “It’s very good.”

He smiles softly. “I’m glad you like it, Reg.”

Then, after a small pause. 

“Harry, why didn’t we go with Sam and Charlotte?”

He pauses for a moment but then answers slowly. “Sam and Charlotte aren’t the kind of people I think you should be hanging around with, Regulus. I know you think they seem nice, but… they can definitely have their moments.”

Regulus’ brows furrow. “What does that mean?”

“Well… sometimes they aren’t the best people to each other--or other people, for that matter. You can do whatever you want, of course, but I personally wouldn’t recommend becoming too close with them.”

Regulus considers it for a second. He remembers the time he saw Sam hit Charlotte across the face. She didn’t act like it was a big deal, but Regulus feels like it would’ve hurt. Charlotte always gave him pudding… but at the same time so did Harry. Eventually, Regulus nods. “Okay. Are we going back now?”

“Do you want to?” Harry asks as they reach the end of the block. He’s already onto the cone part of his ice cream. Regulus has barely made it halfway through the top.

“I think so. I want to read more of Dune.”

Harry nods. “As would anyone. Come on, let’s go then.”

They cross the road. By the time they get back to the bar, the sun has almost begun to set. Harry and Regulus go straight upstairs, both of them grabbing their respective books and going under their blankets to read. At some point the other two people in their room come in together, collapsing on their beds immediately and mumbling something to each other that Regulus can’t understand. It’s not that he necessarily cares either way.

After Harry takes a short trip to the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth, Regulus does the same, changing out of his clothes into ones he uses at night and brushing his teeth. It’s just about when he’s ready to leave that he feels something dripping down his lip, and he raises a hand just in time to his chin to catch the small drop of blood.

He turns around, taking his other hand off of the door and grabbing some toilet paper to shove up his nose. 

“Harry, my nose is bleeding again!” He takes the paper away from his nose to look at it, then folds it over and holds it back to his nostrils. 

A second later there’s a small knock on the door, and as soon as Regulus unlocks it, Harry pokes his head inside. “Everything good?”

Regulus sniffles. “I think so. It should be gone soon, I think.”

Harry nods. “Let me know if you need any help.”

“I will!” 

The door shuts with a soft click. Regulus goes up to the bathroom mirror and watches as the blood slides down his face whenever he takes the napkin away. He sits there for another few minutes, letting it fall then wiping it away over and over until his upper lip is stained red. It’s ten minutes before the entire thing stops, which doesn’t surprise him since that’s how long they usually are. In the month he’s been here, he’s had seven nosebleeds, and while the first was one absolutely terrifying to experience, the next six were either annoying or fascinating. He throws his third napkin in the trash and washes the blood off of his hands and face, opening the door as soon as he’s done and running back to bed.

Harry looks over as soon as he jumps and hands on his covers, smiling slightly as Regulus rushes to get under them. “All good?”

Regulus hums in response, reaching over and taking Dune back out from his drawer. The two of them read side by side until the other two members of their room start grumbling at them to turn the lights off. Harry eventually does, winking at Regulus just before the click that plunges the room into darkness.

Regulus brings the covers to his chin, staring into the pitch-black of the room as his eyes slowly adjust. He looks up to the window, between curtains where just the smallest crack of light is pushing through. Regulus rolls over away from it, eyes just barely able to make out the outline of his bedside table.

He sits there for a few minutes, then rolls around again. After another five, he does the same. Then the same after another ten minutes, then again and again until his hair is a mess and he can’t get comfortable. Eventually, he’s left staring at the ceiling, his body tired but his mind so awake he can’t possibly bring himself to sleep. He glances over at Harry, finding his chest to be falling and rising smoothly, his mouth slightly open while he sleeps. 

It’s not long after that Regulus slides his feet out from underneath the covers, hopping off of the bed and making his way to the bathroom. He turns on one of the smaller lights, barely illuminating a fraction of the room as he sits in the corner near it.

He can’t stop thinking about the fairy. About the way she could fly, how she could create anything, how she could summon fire with just the snap of her fingers. Regulus stares at his hands in front of him, one perfectly normal and the other deformed. He raises his right hand, the unmarked one, and holds it in front of his face.

He twists his fingers into a snapping position, but then he falters. He knows, reasonably, that nothing will happen, but the moment he snaps and it becomes a reality, then what is he left with? He squeezes his eyes shut, imagining the fire to appear at the end of his fingertips, and snaps.

He doesn’t open his eyes. The sound of it rings through the room, loud enough that he’d be worried about Harry waking up if not for how heavy of a sleeper the other boy is. He slowly begins to will his eyes open, and as soon as they’re just past squinting, they open all the say. His shoulders sink back against the wall, staring at his empty hand. He shouldn’t feel disappointed. He knew it wasn’t going to work.

Nonetheless, he closes his eyes again, and snaps. He opens them to find nothing and closes his eyes right back up again a second later. He snaps, and the same thing happens. And again, and again, and the last time he opens his eyes and decides to try something different. If it doesn’t work, then he’ll go back to bed, shutting his eyes against his pillow and forgetting about the whole thing.

With his right hand, he feels the cool tile underneath him as he readjusts himself, moving his legs to sit properly on the ground. His back lifts off against the wall. He closes his eyes again, moving his hand back up into a snapping position. This time, instead of just imagining the flame to appear, he wills it. He imagines bending the air around him towards his finger, compressing it, and twisting it in just the right way so that when his finger snaps against his palm, it acts as a spark to the already-charged air around him. He snaps, and he feels it so deeply that his eyes fly open straight away. He stares at his finger in blatant shock, at the small orange flame appearing from the top of his pointer finger. He’s scared to move, scared to breathe in the off-chance that it’ll somehow mess it up. He blinks rapidly, watching as the little flame remains flickering atop his finger. 

After he stares at it for a few seconds, he finds it worth the risk to move, bringing his other hand up towards it. He points the same finger on the other hand, then connects it to the finger with the fire. When they separate, his left finger takes the flame with it. His mouth drops open, watching and twisting his hand around as the little flame continues to dance across his fingertip. It doesn’t burn. It doesn’t hurt in the slightest. It’s simply there, coexisting alongside him. He sits there for a few minutes, letting the flame slowly die down until it’s as if it was never there.

But it was.

All of a sudden, a grin overtakes his face, so wide and genuine that his cheeks almost hurt. He did magic. He can do magic!

Regulus stands, flicking off the lights and running back to his bed, his smile still on his face. 

He can’t wait to show Harry in the morning.