Chapter 3
Regulus smiled softly as hands pressed down on his shoulders. He squinted in confusion as the face before him shifted; not James Potter. "Evan, what are you doing?" Reg shoved his friend off of him as he sat up in bed.
"My bad Your Highness, just wanted to tell you we have to head down to the pitch in a minute but don't worry I'll just tell Lucius you weren't up for it today. I'm sure he'll understand, maybe he'll bring you a self-care basket while he's at it! He probably won't even notice Gryffindor celebrating!"
"Okay, Ev I get it, where's Barty?"
"The rest of the team is down at breakfast, Barty just told them we were up late shagging so would meet them on the pitch" Regulus tried to cover his blush with indifference, he had most definitely been up late but he couldn't think about that now.
"Right. I'm going to shower"
"Without me?" Evan Rosier may be the worst person on this earth but as Regulus walked into the bathroom his mind was on another annoying chaser. He turned the water up to scalding, needing to burn Potter's touch off of him. It wasn't that last night hadn't been enjoyable but more so that it was wrong. Regulus knew Sirius was gay that was part of the reason Walburga had been so hard on him. If Regulus was perfect then none of that would happen to him. Maybe he should ask out Pandora? She would pretend with him. They were close enough for it to be believable; they could probably go all the way to marriage if his parents were still alive then. It would probably be easier to just wait out the war. Besides, he could worry about all of that after the Quidditch Cup. He could hear Evan and Barty in the dorm room and the water was growing cold. Defeating James was what he needed; undeniable proof that he didn't care about James.
As Barty and Evan argued about who would score more points Regulus pulled on some spare gear. His was still abandoned somewhere in the stands, at least he wouldn't be taking thoughts of James onto the pitch with him. His body thrummed with anticipation as he lined up with his team; fighting the urge to run he stared ahead into the sea of green, the sounds of the crowd pushing him onto the pitch. He would never admit it to anyone but the support was a big part of why he played. Some inherent part of him would always crave the admiration others seemed to come by naturally. Regulus had always worked harder than others and it was paying off because as he walked onto that pitch they were cheering "R.A.B". Not Black. They were shouting for him. All their hopes rested on his shoulders and that was a burden he was willing to carry.
He forced himself to look away as the Gryffindor team walked on but he felt the atmosphere change. He may have been celebrated by Slytherin but everyone else in the stands cheered for not only their seeker, Alice Fortescue, but the whole team. Not that Regulus heard any name other than Potter. Maybe he should be grateful it took his mind off of Sirius. If James brought the attention Sirius was the one who kept it; always as unpredictable on the pitch as his behaviour had been. He would never have been head of the Black family. That's what Walburga often told him, that it was bound to happen anyway so at least it was sooner rather than later, but it still pained him to look at the older boy. All he could see in Sirius' overconfident walk was the way he limped from the house. So yes, it was a good thing he was looking at James. Better the shame of his actions than the guilt of what he had helped do. Shit. He was getting in his head. He had to focus on playing a winning game. From then until the whistle was blown he focused on his hands, listing every spell he knew, and then they were off.
Instantly he flew up to observe the game from above, his eyes darting across the pitch from above. Was that a glint of the snitch? James had the ball. Was that a flutter beside Prewett's ear? James was nearing the goal. Was that a trick of the light? There was a bludger going towards James. Was it going to hit him? Sirius stopped it in time. James scored. Regulus could breathe again. He never noticed James this much normally, perhaps his head was catching up to the size of his ego and was expanding rapidly. Always an option. Alas, James would not be leaving with a head injury, instead, he went on to play some of the most impressive Quidditch Regulus had ever seen. Gryffindor was leading by 270 points, even catching the snitch wouldn't help. It wasn't that Slytherin was playing badly but more that no one could get the ball off of James, Marlene, and Frank. The three were playing a beautiful game, as they danced across the pitch they seemed as if they could fly without the brooms. As if the air was where they truly belonged. James especially. He had never looked so happy; well except for maybe last night but that moment was just for him, not for the stands.
The snitch was buzzing next to James' ear. Perhaps his staring had paid off but he had a difficult decision to make. Catching the snitch would end the game, saving them from any more embarrassment, but they would still lose. Waiting wasn't an option either, the snitch moved quickly and Alice could spot it at any moment in time.
R.A.B
The earlier chant rang in his head as he tried to think. All he had wanted was to win this game and he couldn't even do that. If he hadn't been looking at James he might've noticed it sooner. What would his parents think when they heard about this? Hopefully, no one had noticed the direction of his absent gaze. In the end, his decision was a selfish one. As he dove for the snitch his eyes were closed. Accidents happened on the Quidditch pitch. He was headed towards the snitch but a part of him hoped he would hit something before that. A bludger to the head wouldn't hurt more than the thoughts residing in the dark corners of his mind. Fleeting images of James, Sirius, and his parents were all clawing at him as he flew.
Contact.
An arm around his waist. James. Just Reg's luck.
"You okay there shooting star?" Regulus's broom had fallen from beneath him as James held him suspended in midair. He reached for the snitch, his hand brushing against James' cheek as he took it. The contact sent thrills through his body; thrills he shouldn't be feeling.
"Always got to be the hero" The words weren't said with anger just tiredness. He had fought so hard to get to this point. Slytherin's first final in his time at Hogwarts and he had just ended the game; securing their loss. He could hear the crowds cheering as they revelled in Gryffindor's glory.
"I'm sorry Reggie, I know how much you wanted this" James whispered in his ear as he lowered him to the ground.
"Fuck off Potter, you don't get to pretend you know me" Regulus stalked off to collect his broom as the Gryffindor team called James over to celebrate. Stupid, insufferable Potter; how could Regulus ever think he would succeed when James Potter was there? He could never captivate attention the way Potter did because he was a Black, through and through. He wasn't even brave enough to leave like Sirius; he was a coward and an idiot who had let himself be taken in by the wonder of James Potter and was now stuck watching as he celebrated above. The desperately sad thing was that he couldn't even hate James. He watched him like everyone else in the stands as he threw off his shirt in celebration. Unlike everyone else, he was unsurprised to see the R on his chest formed by dark hickeys. A swell of something close to pride thrummed through him as he heard the crowd's confusion but it was soon replaced by disgust.
Everyone was questioning who the lucky girl had been and as James laughed with his teammates as they wolf-whistled Regulus knew how little he meant to James. Just a hook-up; a way to combat pre-game stress. Regulus wouldn't return for another year at Hogwarts. He was growing too soft, his parents would laugh at his naivety as they inflicted punishment after punishment.
That was the good thing about being the cowardly sibling; he knew when to give up.