Chapter 6
“Wait, you’re actually going to coach Learn to Skate?” asks his mom, her brow furrowed. Regulus nods from across the kitchen, watching as she cuts up a bell pepper rather aggressively. “You weren’t joking?”
“Why would I be?” he replies, though he isn’t sure why he has to justify himself. He knew he’d have to talk to his mom about this at some point, but it still doesn’t make the actual moment any less excruciating. “It’s just for 8 weeks, Mom.”
”Eight weeks that you should be spending on training,” she snaps, and Regulus fights the urge to sigh or to roll his eyes. No need to make this any worse than it already is. “You have regionals in a couple of months, come on.”
”It’s twice a week for an hour!” Regulus exclaims, taking a step towards her. “I can skate right before I coach.”
At this point, she drops the knife in her hands and whips around, focusing all of her attention on Regulus. “You don’t have the time for this,” she hisses, which is simply just not true. “You’re already behind as is—you should’ve been competing senior by now.”
”I don’t have a quad!” Regulus nearly yells, but manages to catch himself. “I don’t even know if I’m going to compete with a triple axel this season, and you want me to be jumping quads?”
“You should at least be attempting them,” she says, like it’s a totally reasonable request that isn’t dangerous at all. “I don’t see why Lucius isn’t having you try them.”
“Lucius is actually my coach and doesn’t want me to die,” is what Regulus would scream if he could. But instead, he forces himself to take deep breaths in, his heart rate higher right now than when he’s ever out on the ice. He has to remind himself that there’s no Sirius here now, that he’s stuck with his mother and father all alone and doesn’t need to become the target of their now directionless anger. After a few seconds of silence, he chooses his words as carefully as he can. “I don’t need to be trying them right now,” he says. He should leave it at that and exit the kitchen, he should learn when enough is enough. But he adds on. “Mom, I don’t see why coaching some little kids for a few weeks is a problem.”
She opens her mouth, and Regulus is filled with instant regret as her eyes narrow. He wishes he could cover his ears, wishes he could brace himself for the sure impact that’s about to come. How did Sirius handle this for six years?
But an explosion does not follow. Actually, a spark isn’t even ignited, and there’s no sign of anger in her as she sighs. “Fine, then,” she says, simply shrugging. “Go ahead and throw away your entire career for this. Just like Sirius.” She turns away and resumes her chopping of the bell peppers.
It’s worse than an explosion. It’s so much worse, and Regulus can feel the heat rising to his cheeks as he leaves the kitchen abruptly.
He goes to his room, and doesn’t come back down for dinner.
❅ ❅ ❅
Regulus is realizing now that he should have listened to his mother, that he shouldn’t have agreed to this. She was right all along, but it’s hardly for the reason that she thinks.
The real reason he should’ve said no is standing right in front of him, staring back at him like a deer caught in headlights as he processes Regulus’s question. Judging from the dumbfounded expression on his face, James clearly wasn’t expecting this either. Regulus doesn’t let that stop him from glaring into James’s soul, willing him to respond.
When James finally does, Regulus is greatly disappointed that it isn’t with an offer to leave and get out of his hair forever. “Oh, hi… um, I’ve coached Learn to Skate for the past year, Regulus.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re coaching Snowplow 1.” Maybe there’s a chance that James is teaching a totally different class, and they won’t ever need to interact beyond this.
But to his absolute and total dread, James nods. “Afraid so.”
Shit.
”I hate you,” Regulus says, just to make sure they’re clear on that.
”I know you do.”
It wouldn’t be just you. You’d have help, Lucius had told him when he was debating whether or not to do this. At the time, that had comforted him—someone else would be with him, able to handle the ropes in case he totally fucked up and had no idea how the hell to coach a group of little kids. But now he thinks he would’ve much rather taken his chances doing this alone. After deciding that it’s definitely way too late to bail, Regulus takes a deep breath in and tries to will the nonexistent strength into himself that it will take to put up with having to interact with James Potter for eight weeks. He’s disappointed when it doesn’t seem to work. But either way, he has to suck it up for now and move on. “Right, okay, so… one of us has to check the kids in by the door, right?”
”Yup, got the attendance sheet right here. Pens are in the penalty box,” James says, presenting Regulus with a clipboard and a list of names. Regulus practically snatches it away, eager for the first opportunity to get away from James that he can take.
James begins to point over to the tiny enclosure where the pens are, but Regulus quickly cuts him off. “I know what the fucking penalty box looks like, James.”
”Jesus, I was just making sure!” he says, throwing his hands up. Regulus doesn’t care.
”Right, I’ll go get a pen,” he says, already skating away. “Maybe a gun while I’m at it.”
”You’re going to be coaching little kids!” James calls out, but Regulus simply puts one of his hands behind his back and flashes a certain finger at him. The kids won’t see it from where they wait by the door, but James definitely will.
As Regulus reaches the penalty box and grabs a pen lying on one of the benches, he can hear James babbling on in the background. He isn’t fully listening, but he does pick up something to do with the words “really mature.” He nearly dies trying to hold back his laughter. Of all of the people who could be lecturing him on maturity…
He attempts to head right over to the door, but is stopped when James yells out his name. “Regulus!”
Usually, he’d ignore him and just move right along. But he definitely doesn’t want to lose the job he just started, and he figures being rude to a fellow coach is probably an easy way to do that. So he stops where he is, looking over to James and offering him a nod that indicates he’s listening.
”This is just for half an hour,” he says. “At least try and pretend that you like me?”
It’s only now that Regulus realizes he’s scowling, and he’s quick to try and wipe the sour look off of his face. He’s not sure how successful he is, but he flashes James a thumbs up that tells him that he will do his absolute best.
What kind of idiot does he think I am? Regulus wonders as he skates over to the door, shaking his head. Of course he’s gonna pretend to like James for now—it’s either that or be fired on his first day.
Besides, he can suck it up for the short duration of the lesson. He’s used to performing, has to do it all the time for competitions. This is going to be easy in comparison… he can do it, he’s sure he can.
He breathes in and out one last time before reaching the door, closing his eyes. He’s got this.
When he finally makes eye contact with the first little girl waiting by the door, who can’t be older than four years old, there’s a big grin on his face. “Hey sweetie,” he begins, “what’s your name?” His voice has definitely gone up at least five semitones—he hopes it isn’t too obvious.
He can barely understand what she’s saying as she opens her mouth and blurts out her name, all of the syllables blurring together. He makes out something sort of sounding like “Ace Ang,” and quickly checks the attendance sheet.
It takes him a second, but he finds it. With his pen, he makes sure to cross a line through the name Grace Chang. “Gotcha,” he says before peering back down at her. She hasn’t stepped out onto the ice yet, and she seems hesitant to. He doesn’t blame her—the whole nature of this sport is abnormal. “Here, lemme help you,” he says, leaving his clipboard and pen by the boards and offering her both of his hands. She stares at him for a second, and before Regulus realizes what’s going on, he suddenly has a four year old leaping into his arms.
Well, he was hoping that she’d take his hands and he could help her get on herself. But he supposes this works too.
Once she’s secure in his arms, he begins to skate back over to his and James’s area of the ice. He can see James staring at him in his peripheral, jaw practically on the floor, but he pretends not to notice. What, did he not think I’d be able to suck it up? Thankfully for him, the young beginner children get small chairs to sit in for their first few weeks. It makes his life ten times easier as he drops Grace off into one of these chairs, the latter giggling like a madman the entire time.
“James,” he announces, gesturing over to the girl in front of him. “This is Grace.”
When James responds, there’s a catch in his voice that wasn’t there before. “Well,” he says, “it’s nice to meet you, Grace.”
Regulus doesn’t stick around and see how the rest of that introduction goes—he’s already skating back towards the door, where a line of a dozen other kids just like Grace awaits him. And he can’t help but think about how all things considered, that didn’t go terribly.
Even considering the ever-annoying obstacle of James Potter, maybe he won’t be too bad at this.
❅ ❅ ❅
Half an hour later, the session has gone just about how James expected it to.
Minus the absolute fucking curveball he was thrown of Regulus Black being there, of course. He’s still trying to work out how to feel about that one.
Either way, they never get very far on the first day. Most of the kids are barely able to stand upright, and when they finally do they’re usually clinging onto the chair they’re given for dear life. So it’s no surprise that all they’ve gotten to today is marching in place—and actually, James is quite pleased that a few of the kids were even bold enough to do it without the support of the chair.
The most difficult part of the session, without fail, always ends up being at the very end. Which unfortunately is occurring right now. James and Regulus are attempting to usher the last of the children off of the ice, while trying to ensure that they don’t form snowballs off of the ground or engage in a game of tag with the other children. And James is having a bitch of a time with it.
”No, Alex,” he’s saying to the little boy he’s guiding, who is now crouching down for the fifth time and scooping his hands together. “Save the snowball making for the winter, please.” Alex does not care, and before James can say anything else Alex whips around and attempts to throw the snowball right at his face.
Thankfully, Alex seems to be far more cut out for skating than he is for baseball, so the snow ends up hitting him in the chest instead. But it’s enough to take James completely aback for a moment, and he looks around desperately hoping that someone—anyone—can help him out with this.
He makes eye contact with Regulus, who has just helped the second to last kid out the door, and attempts to make a face that screams Help me please. Regulus rolls his eyes so far back that James thinks they might pop out of his head, which basically tells James everything he needs to know.
Okay, so no help then. Whatever. He was able to handle these kids just fine before Regulus came along.
Right as James turns back to Alex, accepting that he’s going to be on his own, he hears the sound of scratching on the ice that indicates someone is stopping right behind the two of them. And then the voice of Regulus Black speaks.
”Do you know what’s in that snow, Alex?”
Alex is quick to shake his head, a sheepish grin decorating his face as he bends down yet again to reach for the snow that lines the ice. Regulus speaks as he’s gathering it up.
”I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Hockey players spit on that ice all day. Don’t they, James?”
It’s definitely a dig at James, but he’s so surprised that Regulus is actually helping him out that he doesn’t even care. James practically sputters out an answer, every single wire in his brain short-circuiting. “Oh, yup. We’re the worst about it.” Then to prove his point, James gathers up all of the saliva in his mouth that he can manage and spits to the side, exaggerating it as much as he can.
He turns back to Alex after, who is currently frozen with a brand new snowball in his hand. A second of dead silence passes, then another. And then Alex slowly drops the snowball that he’s just formed, letting it fall apart on the ground as he wipes his hands off on his pants.
”Good call,” Regulus says, nodding at the little boy. “Now, let’s get you off the ice, okay?”
James watches as Regulus grabs both of his shoulders and gently guides Alex off of the ice, striking up a conversation with the young boy as they reach the door. James imagines that the content of it is not particularly insightful, but he’s just grateful he won’t have to deal with any more snowballs.
Once Regulus safely lifts Alex off of the ice and back onto solid ground, he turns back around and lets his eyes wander, gazing at various points around the ice. And then they meet James’s.
James is quick to mouth a Thank you to him, hoping that he knows he’s genuinely grateful for the help.
Regulus wrinkles his nose, pointing to the spot on the ice where James’s spit still glistens. As if to say, Really?
James throws his hands up in the air, hoping that gets his own message across to Regulus. What was I supposed to do?
Regulus shakes his head, crossing his arms as he leans against the boards. That’s still disgusting, he’s replying. James doesn’t know what to respond with, so he sighs and looks away. Every single thing he does just seems to make Regulus hate him more and more, and he shows no signs of stopping. Nothing he does at this point can fix this, can repair the relationship that never was there in the first place.
Too confused to try and sort out the mystery that is Regulus Black, he supposes that he’ll just have to make peace with that. This is how things are between them, how they have always been, and how they always will be. They’re not going to change, and he shouldn’t expect them to just because of this.
It’s going to be a long eight weeks.
When he at last turns around again, glancing back to the spot where he just was standing, Regulus is completely gone.