Heart of the Lion

Regulus had been dreading this as much as he had been looking forward to it. It was the night before they were to go to Hogwarts. The next day, everything would change, and Regulus didn’t know if it would be for the better. Sirius had never been quite so conflicted. He just wanted to go to school and be far away from their parents and every aspect of this life. Regulus wasn’t sure if Sirius had forgotten that Regulus, too, was one of those aspects, or if leaving him behind was purposeful. In any case, Regulus had many reasons to fear going to Hogwarts. If he wasn’t sorted into Slytherin, he would lose any chance of ever making his parents proud. If he was sorted into Slytherin, he would lose his brother. 

None of this seemed to occur to Sirius, who was babbling on mindlessly as he packed his things. He was so excited. Regulus had not seen him this happy all summer. Even the happiness and purity of their reunion had been dampened by Walburga barking at them to keep their emotions in check, that it was not proper.

“Sirius?” Regulus called in a small voice. “What…What happens if I get sorted into Slytherin?”

Sirius, who had been in the middle of telling Regulus all about James, for the millionth time, froze for a moment. He seemed to consider it. “You won’t,” he decided. 

This was not an answer, and Regulus didn’t know what to do with it. Could he not even lie and say that he would love Regulus regardless? 

Regulus was stuck. He had conditional love pushing and pulling him from either side, neither his parents nor his brother willing to compromise on their hopes for him. 

“You’ll be fine, Reggie,” Sirius assured, moving to sit beside him and wrap an arm around him. “You’ll get into Gryffindor.”

“What if…” Regulus had to force the words out. “What if I’m not like you? I’m not brave like you are.”

Sirius’s hand moved from Regulus’s shoulder to his hair, carding his fingers through it in a motion he had once used to lull a younger Regulus to sleep. Regulus leaned into the gentle touch, something he rarely experienced, resting his head on his brother’s shoulder. 

“You were here for nine months when I was at Hogwarts, all on your own. You’re so brave,” Sirius promised him. “You aren’t like them.”

It was meant to be comforting, it was meant as a promise, but Regulus just felt ill. Why did being a Slytherin mean being like them? Why did they have to be one in the same? Could he not be a Slytherin and yet better than them? Andromeda had been in Slytherin, and Sirius adored her.

Regulus could not bear to think of it any longer, and so got up from Sirius’s bed and moved towards the door. He looked back, hoping his brother might follow him, come to his senses and realise that, no, Regulus was not brave, had not been when Sirius was away, and he would not end up in Gryffindor; realise all this, and love him anyway, because Regulus could not change who he was, no matter how hard he had tried. 

But Sirius continued his packing without another glance in Regulus’s direction. 

As soon as he reached his bedroom, Regulus threw himself, somewhat dramatically, on the bed. In less than twelve hours, he would have to choose between his parents and Sirius, between Sirius’s black and white perception of good and bad. He had read once, in a book his uncle Alphard had given him about Hogwarts, that the sorting hat listened to what you wanted. He might not have been brave, might not have been particularly determined. But he could choose it. He could will it. 

He fell asleep that night with the decision still weighing heavy on his mind. 

When Regulus woke up the next morning, it was with a pounding headache and a sense of foreboding, dread choking him up. He pulled himself out of bed and got dressed in the fine clothes that the house elves had laid out for him, most likely under the meticulous eye of his mother. He made sure that there was not a single wrinkle in the shirt and grabbed his luggage. 

Regulus spared one last glance around his room, and he knew that he would not miss it, this dimly-lit, bare, lifeless space. He had hated it since he was younger, though he had never dared, as Sirius had, to try to decorate it. Sirius had once attempted to put up a poster of a muggle singer he had heard of from a boy at one of their parents’ gatherings. Regulus thought of the memory so bitterly, how he should have stepped in when his parents had locked Sirius in his room for three days, how he should have tried to slip him leftovers from dinner or had Kreacher apparate in with anything to make it easier for Sirius. But Regulus hadn’t. 

With some sense of self-disgust, Regulus realised that he would miss this house. Not his room, not really any part of the place itself. But it was all he had ever known.

At 8:30am, Regulus, Sirius, Walburga, and Orion all apparated to King’s Cross station, Platform 9 ¾. Walburga and Orion kept a tight grip on Regulus and Sirius, respectively, as they led them towards the train. To anyone outside of their world, it would have looked like a loving gesture; they were guiding them, afraid to let go of their precious children. Regulus could almost fool himself into believing this, too. 

As Sirius made for the train, Walburga dug her claw-like fingernails into Regulus’s shoulder. He bit his lip to hold back the sharp cry that threatened to tear from him. He turned in her grip but did not dare meet her gaze. Was Sirius still there? Was he watching? Or had he already left to find his friends, already forgotten about Regulus with the promise of this James Potter awaiting him? 

“You are not to follow in your brother’s footsteps, Regulus,” Walburga hissed. Regulus nearly winced at her gruesome tone, and it seemed to soften her. Seemed to, because her new, gentle demeanour, was simply a ploy to get Regulus to listen to her. She cupped his face and he allowed himself to pretend it was love. “You want to make me proud, don’t you? You’ll be a good boy for me?”

Regulus found himself nodding before he had even processed the words. When she let him go without another word, he turned to see that Sirius had waited, though was looking at him with an unreadable expression. 

Once they were on the train and out of sight of their parents, Sirius reached for Regulus’s hands, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re better than them,” Sirius reminded him. 

Regulus nodded at this, too, and Merlin, was he conflicted. 

Sirius dragged Regulus down the narrow corridor of the train, looking in every compartment for his friends. When he spotted them, he practically threw the door open, dropping his things and throwing his arms around James, who, with a gleeful scream, returned the hug. 

The luggage lay at Regulus’s feet, and Regulus felt that the bags were not the only things that had been forgotten once Sirius had seen James. He tried to push his thoughts aside. He might only have his brother for the remainder of this train journey. 

The other two boys in the compartment eyed Regulus curiously, and, after a moment, Sirius turned back towards him and gestured for him to come in.

“Guys, this is my brother, Reggie,” Sirius told the three boys with a huge grin. “He’s gonna be in Gryffindor, too, just you wait.”

Sirius seemed so preemptively proud that Regulus did not try to contradict him. Unsure of himself, Regulus sat down. Sirius put their things on the overhead luggage rack and then sat just beside him, listening excitedly as James regaled the group with talk of his summer. It sounded so bright, so happy, and Regulus didn’t understand how Sirius could be so happy for him. All Regulus felt was envy. He had this loud, hungry jealousy festering in his stomach. 

With one glance at another boy in their compartment, who Regulus assumed was Remus, he was at least, selfishly, glad to see that theirs had not been the only terrible summer. A gaping cut extended across the boy’s nose, from his left cheek to his right. It seemed new, maybe a couple weeks old. Other healed over scars decorated his face. There were dark circles under Remus’s eyes and his sweater looked tatty, small rips in the sleeves and hem, as though with a pull of a single thread it would unravel entirely.

Remus and the last boy, Peter, had not said anything, save a greeting, since Sirius and Regulus had arrived. All of the talking was done by James and Sirius, conversing animatedly about practically every thought they’d had over the summer, because, of course, they could not think anything without sharing it with one another. Regulus tried not to glare, tried harder not to cry.

When the trolley came past, filled with every snack Sirius and Regulus had never been allowed, Sirius and James shared a smirk before buying a couple of everything for the five of them to share. Remus tried to protest that they didn’t have to do that, but they were already handing over the money as he did. Sirius laid out all of his favourites and told Regulus what each was, and Regulus felt almost overwhelmed with all of the choices.

Remus reached for one of the chocolates Sirius had put on the seat in between himself and Regulus, labelled ‘Honeydukes’.

“What? You know they're my favourites!” Remus shrugged as he stuffed his mouth full of chocolate. Regulus wondered if he was starved when not at Hogwarts. He did look quite skinny. Sirius had told him that Remus was a half-blood, and Regulus knew from his research that muggle punishments often left more marks than magic ones. He wondered what sort of punishment the boy’s parents must have inflicted to leave him with cuts such as those. 

Regulus looked at the assortment of sweets and narrowed his eyebrows in thought. James peered over Sirius’s shoulder and pointed at a red and white striped box labelled ‘Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans’. “Those ones,” he suggested with a mischievous grin that Regulus didn’t notice.

Opening the container, Regulus picked out one of the jelly beans which turned out to be vomit flavoured. He wanted to spit it out, but knew that he would be punished if he did. It took him a moment to realise this wasn’t true. That there was no one here who could punish him as his parents would. That he was safe.

“Why would you make me eat that?” Regulus glared at James where he was resting on his knees behind Sirius. 

“Try this,” Sirius chuckled, distracting Regulus from his annoyance.

Sirius handed him a sweet that was already out of its packet so that Regulus could not tell what it was. If it was anyone else, Regulus wouldn’t have taken it. But he had such a desperate need for Sirius’s love and pride, that he took it without a second thought. 

Moments after he had popped it in his mouth, he began to float just out of his seat. 

“What the- Sirius, what is this?!” Regulus screeched.

“Fizzing Whizzbees,” Remus answered for him. “James did that exact same thing to him on the train in our first year.”

“I had to get him back somehow,” Sirius laughed.

“This isn’t getting him back, though,” Regulus complained. “This is just inconvenient for me!” 

Sirius only laughed louder, and unfortunately, it was contagious. While still floating, Regulus himself tried to keep his childish giggles in, so used to being berated for them. 

Once back in his seat, Regulus refused to try any more sweets, much to Sirius’s indignation. Remus and Peter both seemed to be more comfortable now, piping up every so often when they had something to add. The four of them shared sweets and swapped summer stories, and Regulus felt a little out of place. He had heard so much of them from Sirius that it almost felt like fiction, like being thrust into a bedtime story. 

A few hours into the train journey, a girl knocked on the door to their compartment. Regulus looked up to see the blonde sliding open the door and falling dramatically into the seat, her head on Remus’s lap and her legs over Peter’s. She messed up Remus’s hair. “How I missed you, Remus,” the girl sighed.

“I’m also here,” Sirius pointed out loudly.

“Yeah, yeah, hey, Black,” she said. For the first time, she seemed to notice Regulus. “Hey, I’m Marlene.”

“Marls, this is my brother, Reggie,” Sirius introduced before Regulus could speak.

“It’s Regulus,” he muttered, but no one seemed to be listening.

Marlene stayed for the rest of the train journey. It was much louder with her there, which was saying something, as Regulus had never been around people so lively before. He wondered why no one had come to yell at them for all the noise they were making. He and Sirius had learned at a very young age that screams, especially those of joy, were unacceptable, were punishable, were unsuitable for children like them, noble children.

Sirius nudged him, and noticed him flinch at Marlene’s playful scream. They were always able to read each other with ease. One shared look and Regulus knew he understood. 

“Nothing bad’s gonna happen, you know?” Sirius whispered so that only Regulus could hear. “You’re safe.”

Safe. Safe. Safe. 

Regulus repeated it in his head like a mantra.

He was safe now.

They were visited by a few other students throughout the remainder of the journey, either those who knew the ‘Marauders’, as they called themselves, or those in Regulus’s year searching for people to get to know. A strange girl with distant eyes spared him a single glance and a smile before moving on. Regulus thought there might be some outward giveaway that told people around him that he was wrong, broken, that they should stay away.

An older girl, a prefect, Sirius had said, came to tell them that they would be arriving at Hogwarts shortly. Any shred of tranquility that had settled over Regulus evaporated in an instant. He refused to let it show as he dressed almost robotically in his robes. 

They could see it in the distance now, and as the others looked excitedly out the window at their second home, Regulus held back the vomit climbing up his throat. 

Sirius turned to him and sat him back down, saying quietly, “You can choose, Reg. Even if you’re meant to be in Slytherin. Choose Gryffindor, okay? Just…choose me.”

And it was how he had phrased it that got to Regulus the most. It implied that choosing Slytherin meant choosing their parents. And didn’t it? Regulus wanted to go. Not home. It wouldn’t be a home with Sirius gone anyway. Just away. 

The rest was a blur. Up until his name was called, Regulus did not remember a thing. He’d replay it over in his mind, trying to pinpoint when he had made the decision. But had he not always known? That he would choose his brother before anyone else? Maybe he had only pretended to dwell and struggle and agonise over what he would pick, who he would pick. It would always be his brother. He had known since he’d gotten his Hogwarts acceptance letter, if not before, if not from the moment Sirius himself got into Gryffindor. 

“Black, Regulus,” the professor, whose name Regulus had missed in the blur, called.

On shaky legs, he walked up to the seat. She placed the sorting hat on his head, and Regulus thought and thought and thought, Gryffindor. I’m a Gryffindor. I can be brave like my brother. Please let me be like my brother. 

It didn’t matter what the sorting hat was trying to tell him, he was blocking it all out. His mind was filled with just Sirius Sirius Sirius. 

After what might have been five minutes or ten seconds, the sorting hat yelled from atop Regulus’s head, “GRYFFINDOR!”

The air was punched out of his lungs, and he could hear the beating of his heart even over the sound of applause from the Gryffindor table. It took him a moment to realise he was meant to stand now, to walk over to the Gryffindor table. He could feel the muttering of everyone in the Great Hall like insects crawling up his skin. Both of the Black children in Gryffindor?

Regulus sat down beside Sirius, who wrapped him in a tight hug, and tried not to think about what this meant for him, for his parents. 

Regulus’s hearing still muffled, the only thing he could make out was Sirius, saying, “Makes sense, though. Regulus Black, heart of the lion!”

Very vaguely, Regulus remembered Sirius’s friends congratulating him, only being able to take small bites of his food, and then prefects leading them to their new dorms. He did not remember the names of his new dorm-mates or how he ended up in bed in his pyjamas. He did not remember anything else but feeling as though he was going to be sick with the thought of what his parents would do when they heard.

-

Regulus woke up from a nightmare at 5am and did not dare go back to sleep. His first day of classes was not until the following Monday, so he didn’t really know what he was supposed to be doing. He started reading through Hogwarts: A History for the sixth time since Alphard had given it to him. He only got to read proper books, fiction and muggle books, when he and Sirius were staying with Alphard. Normally, this was when their parents were away to France for business, or on a holiday that they did not think Sirius and Regulus deserved to be a part of. Neither ever minded. Alphard was the only adult in the family that either of them truly trusted, and he adored literature. Regulus always spent the entirety of his time at Alphard’s house reading, not knowing when he would get another chance. 

The realisation that there was a library here, that Regulus could read whenever he wanted, sent a momentary jolt of excitement through him.

At seven in the morning, Regulus got dressed and waited in the common room for his brother. He didn’t know which dorm was his, so he couldn’t go and knock to see if Sirius was awake. Regulus knew he would be. They had always been forced to wake up early, every single day since they were young. It was not a habit either could kick.

Regulus only had to wait ten minutes before Sirius, James, and Peter came down the spiral staircase. Regulus closed his book and walked over to them. 

“Hey, Reg,” Sirius greeted with a grin. “We’re heading down to breakfast, you coming?”

Regulus nodded eagerly, following after them. He was still filled with the same fear of his parents’ reaction, but now the happiness at getting to be with his brother muffled its noise, just a little bit.

“Where’s Remus?” Regulus found himself asking once they were all sitting down in the Great Hall.

“He sleeps like the dead,” Sirius chuckled. “He won’t be awake for another few hours. We’ll probably just bring him up some food.”

Presented with all of this food that they were not allowed to have at home, Sirius and Regulus responded differently. Sirius’s first instinct seemed to be stuffing his face with whatever food he could reach. Regulus filled his plate with only what his parents would allow and took small bites. Had it always been this easy for Sirius? He had been rebellious since they were little, that much was clear to Regulus. But how Sirius could disobey rules that were so ingrained in Regulus, he didn’t understand. Maybe that was why Sirius had gotten into Gryffindor unintentionally and Regulus had forced himself in; Sirius had always been better at braving the punishments, so long as he got the temporary happiness, that split-second bliss. Regulus was kept in line with fear, and he always let it get to him. He knew he didn’t belong in this house. But, if nothing else, he belonged by his brother’s side. That had to be enough. 

Regulus was finished with his food long before any of the others, and so sat patiently and waited. They would speak with their mouths full and Regulus had to repeatedly tell himself not to be disgusted by it, that it was Walburga in his head, reminding him that he came from a noble family, telling him that these people were below him.

All students had been told the day before that they were required to attend breakfast that morning to get their timetables, though every other day it would not be mandatory. Remus had clearly missed this, or simply did not care, Regulus thought.

The professor from yesterday who had been holding the sorting hat, who Sirius told Regulus was Professor McGonagall, came around and handed out the timetables. Regulus looked down at his, and it seemed to only hit him then, stupidly, that he would not have classes with Sirius. He felt foolish wanting to cling to his older brother, always needing to be around him.

“I can give you some notes from last year, if you want,” Sirius told him.

“You didn’t take any notes last year,” Peter deadpanned. 

“Well, I didn’t say they had to be my notes, did I?” Sirius grinned. “I bet Evans took loads.”

“Yeah, good luck getting that girl to even talk to you,” James scoffed, then looked down the table, at a girl Regulus assumed was Evans, and sighed wistfully. “Do you think she hates me?”

“No, I’m sure throwing water in your face last year was just her love language,” Sirius responded sarcastically.

James didn’t seem to understand the tone, though, as he replied, “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.”

Sirius looked down at his own timetable and groaned. “I can’t believe we start classes at 8:30. I think we should protest. Go on strike or something.”

James shrugged. “I wake up at six every morning anyway.”

“He does. Even when we were little. I don’t get it,” Peter said while still chewing, making a sound so horrible that Regulus resisted the urge to cover his ears. 

He had done this a lot as a child, or Sirius had done it for him, placing his hands over his ears to block the world out, block out the yelling of their parents or Sirius’s pained screams at Walburga’s punishments. Whenever Walburga had seen him do it, she would hex his hands so they were tied behind his back, or curse them so that they burned and dared him to cry, to see what would come of it. Regulus still feared what his mother would do if she saw him so weak, though she was hundreds of miles away and unable to hurt him.

“Where is Mr. Lupin?” Professor McGonagall asked, suddenly behind Regulus. He jumped at the sound, his cheeks burning with embarrassment at his reaction.

In his head, Regulus repeated the word, repeated what Sirius had said on the train the day before. 

Safe. You’re safe.

The concept of being out of his mother’s reach was foreign to Regulus. It made him sad, for some reason. He wanted to have a mother he could miss. He had small glimpses of one, of a mother who held him and kissed his forehead, who told him of when she was younger and of everything she dreamed of being before her marriage to Orion was arranged. He loved that version of his mother, who could let herself be soft and who loved them. Because he knew that she did, that in her own way, she loved them. Sirius liked to pretend that it was simple, black and white, she was cruel and did not love them. Regulus didn’t protest his logic, though he didn’t agree, either. 

Deep in thought, he had not noticed the conversation happening around him until McGonagall had walked away and his brother was standing up.

“Reg, d’you want to come hang out with us?” Sirius asked him, hitting his arm gently to get his attention. “We’re going to wake Remus up and then go walk around the grounds.”

Regulus had been hoping to go to the library after breakfast and see if he could find any poetry books, which had always been his favourites of Alphard’s collection. But his brother wanted to spend time with him, and was that not reason enough? Regulus nodded and followed them back to Gryffindor Tower. 

When they got to the dorm, Sirius, Peter, and James went inside, but Regulus stood in the doorway. This was Sirius’s room, yes, but he didn’t know the other three. Not for the first time, Regulus felt out of place. Could he just wander into the room? Would they mind? Until Sirius gestured for him to enter, he stood still at the door.

“Wake up, Lupin!” James shouted. Regulus flinched at the sound. James sat on the bed and started shaking Remus, while Sirius pulled his pillow out from under his head and started hitting him with it. 

They weren’t wrong; Remus slept like the dead. Eventually, Peter started playing music on a speaker in the corner of the dorm, and still it took ten minutes between the three of them to wake him up. When Remus finally sat up, he started aimlessly swatting at the air, trying to find one of them to hit. James and Sirius just backed away from the bed, laughing.

Regulus sat on Sirius’s bed while they all waited for Remus to get ready. 

“I have so much music to show you, by the way,” Sirius said excitedly. “We can put it on through the speaker and then cast a silencing charm around the dorm, it’s great. Remind me to show you some Bowie songs later.”

Regulus had heard a lot about music from Sirius over the summer, and had been told all about Bowie in his weekly letters during Sirius’s first year. Still, he was happy to sit and listen if it was what Sirius wanted.

Ten minutes later, they found themselves just outside of the castle. It was a sunny day, all of them lying in the grass to let the warmth envelop them. They were joined by Marlene and another girl, Jade, Peter’s sister, who was a first year as well. Sirius and James couldn’t seem to sit still, and were alternating between running around and rolling down the grassy hill. Beside Regulus, Remus was reading.

Trying to be brave, to act like an actual Gryffindor, Regulus rolled onto his stomach and asked, “Hey, Remus? What are you reading?”

Remus looked over, squinting due to the sunlight shining on his face. “It’s called To Kill a Mockingbird. I nicked it from my mum. She didn’t want me reading it, says I’m too young.”

Regulus just nodded. 

“You like reading?” Remus asked. Regulus nodded again. “Weird. I keep trying to get Sirius to read books I like, but he refuses.”

“I’d, um, I’d read them.” Regulus felt almost proud of himself, for trying to make friends and trying to be bold.

Remus appeared to be excited by this, and offered to give him a list of books to read. A strange warmth spread throughout Regulus’s stomach. He and Sirius had never had friends, had never been allowed. Until last year, their entire lives had revolved around each other. Regulus wasn’t entirely glad that this was changing, but was at least happy that he could learn to get along with some of the people Sirius called friends.

The next morning went very similarly. Regulus woke up early, though not from a nightmare this time, for which he was grateful. He waited in the common room for Sirius and his friends, who came down without Remus once again. After breakfast, they woke Remus up, who made sure to curse everyone and their mother before heading into the bathroom to shower. When he emerged, hair still dripping, he said he was heading to the library.

“Regulus? Do you want to come?” He asked, almost as an afterthought. “I can find a book for you to read.”

Regulus hesitated, looking to Sirius for approval. Sirius nodded with a wide smile, rubbing Regulus’s arm comfortingly before urging him towards the door.

Regulus had been so scared. He still was, of course. Scared that he had yet to hear from his parents, scared that everyone was able to see so plainly that he was not meant to be in Gryffindor, scared that he would do badly and classes and have no way to prove to his parents that he was trying, that he did want to be a good son for them. But he was also so, so happy. To be with his brother and to read and to make friends, to do everything he had never been allowed to before. 

In the library, Remus grabbed one book after the other and piled them on a table, giving Regulus quick summaries of all of them. Some were written by muggles and some by wizards, varying in genre. Regulus wished he could read every single one, consume every piece of writing in the library. He felt as though he was staring at his dreams turned tangible.

Regulus picked out three to take and wrote down the titles of the others, swearing to himself and Remus that he would read them all.

He and Remus stayed in the library for a few hours, Remus catching up on some of what he learned last year and Regulus starting his first book. The silence this left them was comfortable, more comfortable than Regulus knew was possible. It was not the same as the sharp silence of Grimmauld Place, the silence that threatened to dig into Regulus and tear him apart. It was nice, warm.

By the time Remus started packing up his things, Regulus was already a quarter of the way through his book. On the way up to the dorm, he realised he had been rambling. At first, he had just been telling Remus that he really liked the book so far. Then, he started going on about the other books he had read, what his favourites were and how he wished he was allowed to read muggle poetry at home. He cut himself off mid-sentence, biting his tongue.

“What’s wrong?” Remus asked.

“I’m not supposed to talk so much,” Regulus mumbled.

“Says who?”

Oh.

Safe. Safe. Safe.

Regulus sat down on Sirius’s bed once they were in the dorm and Sirius smiled down at him knowingly. He really could read Regulus with such ease.

“Have fun?” Sirius asked. 

For fear of starting to talk and not being able to stop, Regulus simply nodded.

Safe. Safe. Safe.