one
Regulus found solace in gazing out the window on a rainy day, a simple pleasure he could easily grow accustomed to. Nestled up in the window nook, he could spend hours there, captivated by the soothing sound of raindrops tapping against the glass and observing the hurried movements of people seeking shelter. It was these small moments that held a special appeal for Regulus, ones he could happily lose himself in for extended periods of time.
Even though he was supposed to be focusing on studying Latin, the mind of an 11-year-old has a tendency to wander and can be quite stubborn. It wasn't that he lacked the desire to study or complete his homework; he simply found it difficult. Regulus couldn't quite explain why the characters in Latin seemed to leap and twirl across the page, taunting his vision. He often reasoned that his struggles stemmed from not being fully fluent in the language, although he understood it perfectly when spoken to directly. It was a source of frustration for him, as his marks were excellent when it came to speaking, but the moment a written paper was placed in front of him, he felt lost.
"Good boys know how to read." His mother would reprimand him. Regulus felt there was something wrong with his brain, like nothing he could do would make it any better. His longing for approval drove him to push himself beyond his limits, yet he could not escape the feeling of failure that lingered like a shadow. As the weight of his mother's expectations bore down on him, Regulus struggled to maintain his composure, his once bright spirit dimmed by the overwhelming pressure. All he yearned for was a glimmer of recognition from the one he held dearest.
Regulus and his elder sibling, Sirius, had the opportunity to attend a highly regarded international private school located in the United States. The contrast between their previous experience in France and their new surroundings was immediately apparent. They found the accents they encountered quite entertaining, and were astounded by the generous portion sizes served during each meal. Additionally, they were surprised to see a Dunkin Donuts and McDonald's seemingly on every street corner. He knew that it was going to take time to get adjusted, but it's only been a couple months. Sirius seemed to get on fine, though his knack for causing havoc was surely going to get them kicked out of the school again.
The family held a particular social status that demanded the two boys to display impeccable conduct at all times. Although not widely recognized, their family owned a popular business, and any unfavorable attention could potentially result in them being destitute in France. Regulus was fortunate in his inability to read proficiently, compensating for this shortcoming by engaging in activities that appealed to his mother. He immersed himself in numerous pursuits, including playing the piano and partaking in ballet.
Perhaps it was the constant sense of inadequacy, the belief that he had to be exceptional to gain recognition from others. These thoughts and emotions were never discussed openly, especially not with his own brother. If the fear of disappointing his mother was daunting, falling short of Sirius' hopes was even more terrifying for the younger boy. Resting was always elusive; when he wasn't preoccupied with honing his abilities, he would retreat to a secluded space, yearning for tranquility in the quietness.
The school library may have been a preferred hiding spot for him, even though he felt frustrated by his inability to understand the content of the books. He loved the scent of old books that filled the room, finding it incredibly comforting. Unlike other areas, it was not crowded so he didn't feel as overwhelmed. He always tried to convince Sirius to come to the library with him but Sirius always had other plans. Whether it was being with his friends or getting himself in detention, Regulus never saw him anymore.
He tried to not let it affect him, seeing no use in crying about it but he did long for the days where they would always be together. He blamed the school for it quite frankly, believing it to be the sole reason for their current distance. What other explanation could there be? If Sirius never met these people then Regulus would still be close with his older brother. He wouldn't have to wait for Sirius to make time for him.
Releasing a breath, he emerged from his perch by the window, shutting his Latin textbook with the plan to resume studying it at a later time. The sun was setting, signaling that the dinner bells would soon go off. He didn't particularly like the sound of the bells; they were not pleasant to anyone in the school. At times, he would even find himself instinctively covering his ears when they rang. Nails on a chalkboard could not compete for it would lose terribly.
Regulus wandered the corridors, the walls decorated with old paintings. He assumed they were of real people who lived once upon a time. If he had to take a guess, maybe the 18th century. He had recognized The Secret Message by François Boucher, where a dove is bringing a woman a message. He liked to think that maybe it was from a lover of hers, given the daydreaming face she wore.
The loud dinner bells didn't start ringing until he reached the end of the corridor, surprising him and breaking his calm state. He was certain that one day they would give him a migraine, but he continued on to the cafeteria.
Regulus ate in solitude, as he had no desire to engage in social interactions or tolerate the behavior of others. Some of them had a looming aura of death around them that he could practically taste akin to the texture of sand on his tongue.
He didn't know what or how to make of this, he was sure it might be some superstition shit going on but he knew his grandmother was going to die the day before. It was so strong that his ears were ringing very loudly. He wanted to shut it out terribly but the next day, seeing his grandmother die, just like that was awful.
Regulus thought that it was his fault, maybe if he wasn't near her or he didn't think about her dying then it wouldn't happen. It felt like a curse, if anything. Or one long nightmare that he couldn't break out of.
Of course, he'd never voice these thoughts aloud because he knew that it was stupid and he'd never be able to stomach the weird looks he'd be given if he were to tell someone. Oh yeah, I can tell when someone's dying because my ears start ringing. It sounded stupid even saying it.
He chose a garden salad for his meal and settled at an unoccupied table by the window. The rain had intensified, with lightning visible in the distance. It was a breathtaking scene, perhaps perilous, but he considered it to be one of life's most magnificent experiences.
He had a preference for excitement and unpredictability rather than calmness and stability, finding appeal in things that would intimidate most people. Whether it was risky or chaotic, he desired it. He longed to understand it, to fully accept and engage with it. Whatever it might entail, he yearned to possess it for himself and become united with it.
While gazing into the distance, his attention was suddenly captured by a peculiar sight - a figure that appeared to be non human. It was a fleeting glimpse, illuminated by a bolt of lightning, yet he was certain of its existence. The very same figure that had frequently appeared in his dreams.
The dream he had was recurring, and despite his attempts to find its meaning, he couldn't recognize the creature within it. It had the body of a dragon, with hair resembling Medusa's, complete with writhing snakes. As if that wasn't peculiar enough, there were multiple animal heads snapping and growling around its waist.
He was sure that it couldn't be real, that it was just a useless dream. However, his certainty wavered as he realized that this being was not manifesting in his dreams but rather while he was fully conscious.