Regulus Arcturus Black is fine. He’s fine.
Except when Mother stares at him for a little too long with suspicious eyes. Except when she moves too fast around him or points her wand even vaguely in his direction. Except when he thinks a little too hard about the future. Except when he thinks about how Sirius’ room hasn’t been touched and will remain untouched after that night.
The night Sirius left.
Regulus woke up to someone shaking him. His eyes shot open with fear, it wouldn’t be the first time Mother woke him up for “training” in the middle of the night. Turning his head with carefully controlled movements, he saw that it was Sirius.
“What the fuck, Sirius? It’s, tempus, three in the fucking morning! Are you mad?”
His shout was whispered as it is even in the daylight, to prevent his mother from being disturbed. Everything he did was to prevent Mother from being disturbed. Sirius was the opposite but oddly he was whispering as well, for once.
“Careful, Reg, wouldn’t want to ruin the perfect prefect image you have,” he tried to sound casual but his eyes darted all around, a fear of being caught that he hadn’t shown in years.
“Why are you here, Sirius,” he asked suspiciously and more than a little concerned.
Sirius grinned, despite the darting eyes and fingers picking at his nails with anxiety, “We’re getting out of here, Reg. The Potters, they’re actually really good people. Lik not fake-nice people like the Malfoys or anyone else. They- they actually love us. James and I, I mean. And they’re excited to meet you. They already kind of love you from what I’ve told them”
He stares blankly at Sirius while he rambles, he can’t. If he runs with Sirius, their father has no heir. If he runs with Sirius, they’ll just bring him back. His father needs an heir. And he was told if he ended up heir, they would allow him to marry a man and live his life as a man. The only compromise is no potions or spells to finish the transition. His husband would sire an heir and he would birth it. And beyond these promises and his duty, the Potters have no claim to him and he'll just-- His thought process is cut off by Sirius pulling him up by the shoulders.
“We have to go now. Kreacher will probably tell Mother soon, so-”
He cuts through Sirius rambling, “I can’t.”
“What! Reg, this isn’t the time for jokes. We have to go. Now.”
“Sirius, I can’t. Father needs an heir. Once you leave, I’ll be the only boy left. You know he won’t let the girls be his heir. And Mother, for all her pride, can’t handle another birth. Not at her age. They need me to stay.”
“But do you want to? Please, Reggie, we’ll be safe. If we go, we’ll be safe. Please, won’t you come with me?”
He looks at his brother’s pleading and fearful eyes. Before he can speak, he hears fast footsteps and judging from the way Sirius jumps and stares at the door, so does he.
Sirius goes stark white and freezes as he mutters, “Mother.”
Regulus jumps from his bed and starts pulling Sirius towards the balcony. Opening the door, not bothering to be quiet. Mother will know Sirius came to him regardless and she likely heard him jump out of bed if the increasing speed of her footsteps is anything to go by. He helps Sirius lift himself onto the railing.
“Go Sirius. Summon your broom. Transform, whatever you need. Just go!”
Sirius stares at him. His eyes are watery and wide. Regulus knows his are matching, in fact, he’s sure that for once his tears fell first.
“Please, Regulus.”
He begs once last time and Reggie closes his eyes, head turned away. He can’t look at his brother anymore or he might say yes.
“I’m sorry, Siri.”
“So am, I.”
His are sorrowful as he and Sirius stare at each other for a moment. Mother screams from the staircase for Regulus to open his door before she even gets there. Time stops for a moment and Regulus can see both their lives play out. Sirius is happy with the Potters, married to his werewolf, and Regulus is mournful and dutiful, married to some pureblood second son, providing as many heirs as his body can handle.
“I know.”
Sirius is sobbing as he flies away, broom long since summoned. Regulus is too as he rushes to let Mother in and thinks of an excuse as to why he hadn’t stopped Sirius. He never could figure one out.
Mother makes sure he is aware of her dissatisfaction, especially after she’s made aware of where he ran too.
It’s okay. Maybe he deserves the way it creates an irreparable tremor in his right hand, he’s left-handed anyway.
It’s fine.
As Regulus stared at Sirius with his friends he realized that his brother was fine. All that they went through and he was fine. How was he so fucking okay after everything? How was he so okay and Regulus was a mess? The heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black indeed, which is night terrors and hallucinations. With his phantom pains and the spasms in his hands that he can’t stop because of repeated cruciatas.
With the way his eyebrow twitches on its own now after so many years of preventing facial expressions as best as he can while being tortured with unimaginable pain. The way he’s not even truly a man and that’s the only reason Mother will allow him to marry a man as he wishes.
He knows that he will be mocked as a Lady in the future because he’ll be birthing his own heirs. He knows they’ll smile to his face and call him Lord and use he/him but they’ll all be whispering behind his back. It doesn’t matter how accomplished he is, how masculine potions and spells help to make him look and sound because they all know. No one will ever say to his face but they will all know and they will know that he knows.
He is just so tired of all this mess. But he’s the only one left to continue the line and he’s the only one left who wants to. Sirius has shown severe scorn for nearly their whole family and his cousins have no want to “play at the man” as Mother calls his “affliction”. Even if said “affliction” benefits her in allowing her to disown Sirius while maintaining her status as “mother to the heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black”.
Meanwhile, Sirius is laughing with his friends, who soothe him in a way that makes him twitch less. Sirius gets to laugh and his love because no one will say anything against them. Not after the way their friends protected them from Nott’s cruel words.
His brother and his friends are laughing now, when he passed them earlier they were talking about some prank that James masterminded and pulled in secret. A present he said, to welcome Sirius to the Potters. Sirius had laughed and said he loved being a Potter but couldn’t wait to be a Lupin.
Sirius is so okay and perfect. Lucky enough to be born a male and match that with being a boy. And has friends who love him and are okay with him being a boy and having an “afflicted” boyfriend. Who don’t see any of these things as an affliction. Who loves him.
Sirius, who now had parents who wouldn’t lay a hand or spell on him. And a brother who’ll prank and have fun with him instead of scolding him. A brother who only needs to apply healing salve and charms when a prank goes awry instead of from unforgivables as discipline. A brother who is everything he ever wanted and nothing he hates.
Regulus thinks about how he heard two 7th year second sons whispering what their fathers would pay to make him their wife. He heard three 6th years whisper about what he would sound like when they did the things they wanted to him. A 5th year whisper to his friends that of course, he would share, but that they would have to be careful because he wouldn’t raise their bastards.
He thinks about how Father has been in talks for his hand since before Sirius had been gone a full day. How none of these men would treat him kindly but some might treat him gently. How only a few of them would respect that he is the Lord of which their children would be named once married. They would respect him enough in public and with their children but in the privacy he had better be careful.
He thinks about how he stares a little too long over the edge of the tower during Astronomy. How he takes too long to come up for air. The way he stares at his dinner knives a little too long and a little too hard. How he stares at the red dripping down his arms with just a bit too much empty delight.
He’s fine, though. He has to be. He will be. He is.
He’s fine.
Regulus Arcturus Black is fine.
He’s perfectly fine,
Fine. Fine. Fine.
Fine. What a stupid word.