Promise
The Quidditch match against Hufflepuff goes just the way everyone expects it to. Dorcas scores a shit ton of points, the beaters nearly send the other team to the hospital wing, and Regulus catches the snitch. It’s over before anyone has time to consider a comeback for Hufflepuff.
Landing hard, Regulus holds the snitch up high before getting mobbed by his teammates. He’s breathing heavily but the thrum of victory leaves him slightly giddy.
He looks up to the stands, grinning when Barty whoops and yells his name. Evan stands next to him, one arm over Barty’s shoulder. He sends Regulus a thumbs up and a wink.
The party is as predictable as the game. Regulus comes out of his dorm to find Dorcas reclining in an armchair. Someone must’ve let Pandora in because she’s dancing to the music, hips swaying in time with her hair. Dorcas holds out a bottle to Regulus.
“There you are. Beautiful job out there.”
He smirks, taking it. “I almost feel bad.” He sniffs the alcohol, grimacing before taking a swig. It burns in the best way. “Almost.”
He collapses onto the couch next to her, crossing his legs in front of him. He can feel the base of the music resonate in his chest, vibrating through his body. Dorcas glances over at him. “Careful with that shit.”
He sends her a look and takes another swig, setting the bottle on the ground next to him. “I can handle myself.”
“Sure you can. Remember that time last year you drank too much and ended up vomiting all over-”
“I thought we weren't going to talk about that.”
Dorcas smiles, tipping her head back up to the ceiling. “Case and point.”
He rubs his shoulder, fingers unconsciously finding the raised scars beneath his shirt. He’s been meaning to talk to her for a while. Now seems like as good a time as any. “Dora told me… something. About you. About what you did.”
Dorcas’s face goes cold and she glances around. “Let's talk about this. But not here.” Standing up, she tugs him off the couch and down the hall. Regulus grabs the bottle and follows. He stumbles a bit after her- she wasn’t kidding about the liquor.
They slide down on opposite sides of the hallway, staring at each other. Dorcas grabs the bottle and takes a quick swig, making a face. “I’m assuming she told you I came out to my parents.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah. I was gonna tell you, I swear.”
Regulus shakes his head. “I don’t care.”
“I just wanted to… adjust to the idea of them knowing. And you’re so busy it’s hard to find time to-”
“Hey. I said I don’t care. Are they ok with it?”
“I-hm.” She has to think for a long moment. “Yeah. I think so. Or they will be. They’re more scared, I think, than anything. It’s not exactly safe for us, you know.”
For a bleary anxious moment Regulus wonders if by ‘us’ she meant her and him, specifically- but then decides she was probably just referring to gay people in general. He chooses to ignore the fact that he falls under that category as well. “But you feel comfortable there?”
“Yeah.” She cocks her head. “Wait, what’dya mean?”
“Like, I’m sure you could go to Pandora’s for part of the summer if you wanted to. If it felt better.”
She lets out a shaky laugh. “I won’t do that. They’ll be ok, it’ll just be a bit awkward at first.”
“You could avoid that entirely, though.”
She raises her brows at him. “No. I’m gonna have to face them eventually. Best to get it over with.” She chuckles. “I’m not just gonna run because things got a bit dicey.”
Regulus looks down, biting his tongue. He grabs the bottle, trying not to think. Dorcas pauses. “Shit, Reg. I didn’t mean… that’s not what happened to Sirius.”
“It’s fine.”
“Why did he leave, though?”
Sober Regulus would shut this down immediately. Sober Regulus would leave Dorcas sitting in the hall without a single look back. Tipsy Regulus just sighs. “He couldn’t take it, I suppose.”
“What happened… the night he left? You never talk about that.” She keeps her voice quiet, almost respectful.
“He was going to die.” Regulus shrugs, looking down at the bottle between his hands. “I wasn’t going to let that happen.”
Dorcas’s eyes widen. “They hurt him that badly?”
Regulus chuckles. “They got bored of the cruciatus after a while- started experimenting.”
“God, Reg.” Dorcas’s eyes bore into him. “If they ever hurt you that bad, you come to mine or Dora’s or Evan’s, ok? Got it?”
Regulus shakes his head, letting the alcohol act as veritaserum. It’s freeing, in a way. “They would never let me go.”
“But-”
She’s starting to sound like James. “I can handle them, Dorcas. I’ve done it my whole life.”
“And he can’t?”
“Oh, no. He could. He did it all the time. Handled them for me, mostly.” The alcohol has nothing on the familiar burn of shame and guilt. Dorcas doesn’t say anything, sensing there’s more. “I- um. I ran into him the other day. He said he… regretted all of it.” He has no idea why he’s still talking.
“Jesus, Regulus.”
He laughs bitterly and waves his hand. “Oh, no. He was lying. He didn’t mean it.”
“Are you sure?”
Regulus nods. If there’s one thing he knows, it’s his brother. “He was just angry. I saw his face after I showed him my-” He cuts himself off, because he’s not that drunk. He knows when to stop. He knows what he’ll regret in the morning.
“Are you talking about your arm?”
Regulus goes still, staring at her. He can hear his heartbeat. “What?”
“I just mean- you fell asleep on the train one time in a short-sleeved shirt and it got pushed up and I saw-”
Regulus sets the bottle down hastily. He moves to get up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Regulus.” Dorcas stares at him, tipping her head. Her gaze is firm. Thorough. “Don’t go anywhere.”
She knows him too well, he thinks bitterly. Reluctantly he slides back down the wall. Dorcas nods. “Are they… tally marks?”
Regulus tips his chin up. “Yeah.”
She looks down. “Ok. For what?”
“Everytime Sirius took a punishment for me.”
“Shit, Reg.” She lets out a breath. “That’s fucked up.”
Regulus does laugh then, tipping his head back. Because yes. It’s fucked up. But it’s been fucked up for seventeen years, and the simplicity of the words are nothing short of humorous. “Yeah,” he says dryly. “It is.”
“You know…” She sighs, trailing off and looking at him through half-lids. “You know what? Nevermind. You don’t need to hear about how we're all here for you and you can talk whenever. You know. And you won't.”
He gives her a tired little half-salute. She smiles, wobbling to her feet and taking the bottle from him. “Alright. No more mopping. We get it. I’m gay and you’re sad, woe is us. Let’s go.”
He grabs her hand and lets her pull him up, looking back towards the party. “Don’t make me dance.”
“You know I’m going to try.”
“ You don’t even dance.”
“Yes, but I’m two months older. The desire was never instilled in me.” She pretends to caress his face. “There’s still time for you, my butterfly.”
He promptly shoves her away from him and flips her off, smirking when she has the audacity to look offended. “You dance, I dance.”
She rolls her eyes, starting off. “Fine. But if that's the case, we both better steer clear of Pandora.”
He nods firmly and they return to the party.
---
Can you play that again?
Regulus lowers his violin, cocking his head at the Basilisk. The same song? For the third time?
Yes.
Alright. He lifts it again, tucking it under his chin. He’s been down here for the better part of an hour.
The notes sing out, soft and sweet, and Regulus can’t help but wonder the significance of the peice. It’s out of place here, among the cold and the stone. To him it sounds like flowers and spring, nothing dark and surely nothing close to sinister. He lets the notes trail off, loosening his bow and setting the violin back in its case. Looking up, he leans back on his elbows.
He’s found the best place to play is the top of the statue's head. The music reverberates around the chamber wonderfully, making the acoustics perfect.
They’ve been at this for a while, Regulus asking questions and then playing when the Basilisk gets bored.
So, did Tom Riddle really not mention anything about becoming the Dark Lord? Surely he must’ve said something.
The Basilisk curls around herself. He talked a lot about his plans, yes, but nothing specific. Nothing about becoming this Lord you mention.
Regulus sits forward. Like what?
So many things.
Regulus groans. Can you give me an example?
He wanted to kill the muggles. Whatever it took.
I know that. Is that it? Did he say how?
He cared more for himself, I think.
Regulus tips his head. How so?
He put himself above everyone, more than a normal conceited person.
Regulus looks down, thinking of Barty’s smug smile. I have a friend who wants his gravestone made from gold. Kind of like that?
Oh no, the Basilisk hisses. He would never be so selfless as to die.
Regulus pauses. What?
He hasn’t told you? He cares about blood supremacy, yes, but his main goal was always to live forever.
Regulus sits up. Immortality? Really?
I’m surprised he never mentioned. It’s all he’d talk about.
How did he plan on doing that? There’s a tension in the air, pressing in on him from all sides. This is important, he knows.
Something about objects, or souls. He called them horcr… hm. The Basilisk stops. I don’t know if I should tell you this.
Regulus frowns. Why not?
You told me how he turned out. I don’t want you to end up like that.
Regulus touches his cheek. The scar’s long since faded, but he can still feel the cut. I don’t think I will.
Horcruxes, then. I never forget a thing, and that wasn’t hard to remember. Not after how much Riddle talked about it.
Regulus turns the word over in his mind, spelling it and sounding it out. It was unfamiliar, nothing he knew. What’s a Horcrux?
An object, he said, that he put his soul into. Or part of it.
You can split your soul? Regulus leans forward, shivering.
He was convinced. He said he would find a way. Sounds like he did.
How do you know he succeeded?
Riddle would never fail. He didn’t then, he won’t now. He’ll win this war. He’s smart, you know. Smarter than you think.
Regulus bites his lip, thinking. He split his soul?
Yes. I don’t know how many times.
Regulus looks up, sharp. You can do it more than once?
Oh, yes.
…How?
The Basilisk raises his head. Murder. How else?
Regulus swallows. God.
Oh, he was certainly not involved.
So he always had a plan. From the beginning.
The Basilisk hisses softly. Yes. I imagine he’s still making new ones.
Plans?
Yes.
Regulus opens and closes his fist. So many plans.
Involving you?
Regulus freezes, breath catching. He forces himself to relax, forces the guilt back down. Yeah, he breathes out. Yeah. Involving me.
Ah. Something about the Basilisk’s voice makes Regulus look up. If her eyes were open, she’d be staring right at him. There it is.
There what is?
Why you’re so scared. You’re scared of his plans. You’re scared of your role in them.
Regulus digs the heels of his palms into his eyes, breath hitching. I… yeah.
The Basilisk knows better than to ask. You don’t want to go along with them.
No.
Then why?
He’ll kill me. He’ll hurt the people I love.
The Basilisk slithers closer. Are you sure?
Regulus, for the first time, hesitates. What do you mean?
There’s always another way.
And the Basilisk can’t know. She doesn’t know. But she must feel it- must understand, on some level, that this is important. Regulus thinks about James, who clings to hope with both hands, digging his fingers in and never letting go. And if there isn’t?
You can make one.
Regulus ducks his head down. You sound like James. It’s the first time, potentially ever, that he’s said his name down here.
The Basilisk hisses. He’s a smart one.
I know.
You’re giving him hope, you said. With your project.
Regulus nods. The Basilisk sets its head down. Then give yourself some too.
Regulus tucks his hand into a fist, trying to steady himself. Is this something he can get out of? He’s never thought, not once, that there might be another option. He looks back at the Basilisk, at her green scales and calming words, and understands.
He doesn’t want to hurt her.
He never did, not really, but it was easier. It was easier when he didn’t know her. And now… well. Now he does, and the thought of leaving her down here, maimed, bloody, and alone makes him want to vomit. He knows, of course, how much it would hurt. Not just physically, but the betrayal, the heartache that would follow. She’d never see him again, and she’d certainly never forgive him. He would never forgive himself, either.
So he can’t do that to her, he thinks. He can’t leave her. Can’t hurt her. Not like Slytherin did. Not like Tom Riddle.
There’s always another way, he whispers, and he swears the Basilisk smiles.
---
The next time Regulus sees James, it’s already Friday. The following Saturday would mark the last weekend before summer.
James finds him on the couch immediately, settling in next to him. “Hey love,” He sighs, and the name washes over Regulus like a wave. He relaxes into James’s shoulder and feels the other boy let out a breath.
“Hi.”
James turns to look at him, and Regulus blinks back at him. “What?”
“You’re happy.”
“I don’t know about that.”
James grins, and Regulus’s heart- still - flutters. “I do. Is it because of quidditch? You won, yeah? That was amazing.”
“Mm.” Regulus drops his head back, staring at the ceiling. “I’m… hopeful, I guess. If you want to put a word to it. I don’t know about happy.”
James sneaks a hand over his shoulder, pulling him a bit closer. Regulus, despite himself, goes willingly- breathing in James’s smell. He does his best to commit it to memory. “You probably want to work on the potion.”
“No, let's not. I think we can pause on that. I just want to enjoy… this. We don’t have long left.”
Regulus makes a small sound and closes his eyes against the words. “Stop reminding me.”
“I know you don’t want to talk about it. But Reg…” Regulus already knows what he’s going to say, but doesn’t interrupt. James continues. “I need to see you this summer. And before you start, I don’t care. There has to be a way, Reg. I need to see you.”
“I know.” Regulus traces his finger over the back of James’s hand, admiring the tiny freckles dotting his dark skin. “I know.”
“Can I find you, then? Or write?”
“No letters.” Aside from showing up at his doorstep, that would be about the worst thing he could do. All of Regulus’s letters are intercepted- he’s sure of that much.
“Alright.” James is watching him; Regulus can feel his eyes. “Can I see you then?”
“Maybe. If I- If I can find a break.” Regulus’s forearm burns and the guilt he attempted to drown in hope comes crawling back, wrapping around the blank skin.
“You know my address. You can come to me, ok? I’ll be there. Or someone will.”
Regulus nods, not looking at him. He wishes he could tell him- wishes he could show him how much he misses him. How much he wants to run to him, to hide in his house and in his bed till the danger passes. He can’t, though, because he knows James and knows it’ll only hurt him more. False hope never does anyone any good.
But there’s something in his gut that tugs at him- the same thing that's tugged at him since he was eleven- that refuses to push him away. So here he is, keeping James trapped in some love-sick limbo, because he’s not strong enough to choose a side.
“I’ll try, James,” He says, and knows it’s not an answer. Not a real one.
“Ok. Ok, love, that’s all I want.” James rubs the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “I should tell you. Um. Remus… ah. Remus knows about us.”
Regulus goes still, flooded with an icy panic. He pushes back from James, trying to keep his head clear. “What?”
James shifts in his seat. “It’s fine, don’t worry, I made him promise not to tell anyone.”
“No, James, he can’t know. He’ll tell someone, or my brother, or-”
“Regulus. Hey. It’s alright. I made him promise.”
And that’s never been enough, not for Regulus. “You didn’t curse him?”
James looks taken aback. “No? Reg, I trust him. More than anyone. He won’t tell if he says he won’t.”
“How can you be sure?” Because in Regulus’s experience, that’s not how this works. In Regulus’s experience, they always tell.
“Do you trust me?” James asks, and those eyes nearly send Regulus into a spiral.
“Yes.” He’s stopped questioning it at this point.
“Then trust him.”
“I can’t.”
“Reg-”’
“How did he find out?”
James sighs, running a hand through his hair. “After Snape saw us together in the hall, he mentioned it to Remus. He knew I was previously with the person I’m seeing, so the timing lined up. He figured it out from there.”
Regulus curses Snape. His hand sneaks into his pocket, unconsciously going for his wand. “We need to do something.”
James catches his arm and Regulus flinches. “I trust him.”
Regulus pulls his arm away, running a hand through his hair. The panic is back, same as ever. Suddenly he’s back in the cupboard in Grimmauld Place and Sirius is begging him.
Don’t say that, Reggie. You have to like girls. You have to.
“If this- if Lupin tells someone and they tell my parents, I can’t- I can’t do that, James. I can’t-” He’s shuddering now, bending forward a little. He needs to talk to Remus.
James grabs his shoulders, tilting him up. “Regulus. What can I do? How can I make you trust him?”
Regulus grabs his hand, clinging to it as he tries to calm himself down. James is steady and solid, and not going anywhere. Regulus takes a few deep breaths. James’s other hand comes up to run over his face, and Regulus leans into it like a lifeline. “I need to ensure-”
“You can’t curse him.”
“James-” Regulus wants him to understand.
“No. He doesn’t deserve that, Reg.”
And he’s about to argue when something else occurs to him. Maybe he doesn’t need to curse him. Maybe…
Regulus nods, stilted. “Ok.”
James blinks, taken aback. “What? Just like that?”
“Yeah.” Regulus looks away. “I still need to talk to him, but I won’t curse him.”
“Ok. Sure. Let’s go.”
“Now?”
“Yes. You won't relax until we do.” James stands up, planting his hands on his hips. “Come on.”
Regulus watches him carefully, rising slowly. “Fine.”
---
Classes are out for the day, so Remus finds himself by the Great Lake. It’s a warm day, the first in a while, and the breeze blowing across the lake is gentle and soft. Pete and Sirius are back at the dorm, and Remus is out here alone. It’s nice, he thinks, to have some quiet before the summer starts.
That is until he looks up to find Regulus Black heading straight for him with a downright terrifying look on his face.
Remus gets to his feet as he notices James trailing behind him sheepishly. Remus sets his jaw. He can guess what this is about.
Regulus pulls up short right in front of him and Remus decides to get it out of the way. “Here to curse me again, Black?”
Regulus’s eyes flash and he sends a sideways glance at James, who gives him a pleading look. It’s strange, really fucking strange, to watch them interact. “Unfortunately not.”
“Remus, I think we just need to confirm that-”
Regulus interrupts James, taking another step towards Remus. Remus forces himself to hold his ground. “Lupin. Despite what you might think you know-”
“What I think I know? Prongs confirmed-”
“Remus. Please.” James looks up at him, and Remus sees it in his eyes. Sees how much he needs him to agree to whatever he’s about to say.
“Can you please just promise you won’t tell?”
“I did.”
“I think Regulus needs to hear it.”
James grimaces. Regulus sends them both a look, cold and icy. “ Regulus wants to do a lot more than hear it, but-”
“But we agreed no violence.” James steps up next to him. Remus watches as James’s elbow brushes Regulus’s, and can’t help the twinge of jealousy that pinches his gut. He’s not jealous of James or Regulus, it’s what they have that he wants. He wonders if they know how lucky they are to be able to love each other directly.
“So… what? You just need me to say it again?”
Regulus levels him with a glare, and there’s something in his eyes Remus can’t quite figure out. He doesn’t like it. “Yes.”
"Fine. James, Regulus, I promise I won’t tell anyone about your little… thing.” He holds up his hands. “How's that?”
Regulus says nothing and James lets out a relieved sigh. “Thank you. We can talk about this later, Moony. Reg, are you satisfied?”
Regulus nods stiffly and James smiles. “Ok. Great. Regulus, you have Charms next period. And I could try to convince you to skip, but I know how well that will go. I’m going to go to Defense Against the Dark Arts.” He looks between them, seemingly oblivious to the tension lingering in Regulus’s shoulders.
Remus glances at James then turns, walking up and across the ground. He wonders if he should tell Sirius, just for a moment. Then decides James deserves better and abandons the thought. He makes it to the hall before he’s interrupted again.
Someone’s grabbing his shoulder and turning him, shoving him against the wall with a strong grip. Remus instinctively pushes out, but before he can blink there’s a wand pressed beneath his chin.
Regulus, a little shorter and very determined, is giving him such an icy stare Remus can’t help but shiver.
“Wha-”
“James may have been content with your empty promises.” Regulus leans in. “But I’m not. As you know, I’m quite good at secret-keeping curses.” He lets out a huff, bitter. “Fortunately for you, I might’ve promised James I'd avoid taking that route.”
“Lucky me.”
“Yes.” Regulus gives him a look, cold and deadpan. “Lucky you.”
Remus moves to get out from under his wand but Regulus shoves him again, harder, against the wall. Remus, despite himself, winces. “I don’t understand.”
“No, I didn’t expect you would. Gryffindors are notoriously thick, aren’t they?”
Remus feels a curl of anger twirl its way up his spine. While he may not like the younger Black he does respect him, on some level. But this- this is just pissing him off.
“Not that, you prick. I don’t fucking understand why he’s into you.”
Regulus’s eyes narrow, just slightly. “Neither do I. Yet, here we are.”
Remus thinks of James’s bright smile and can’t help but feel he deserves so much better. “If you hurt him, Black, I swear to Merlin-”
There’s a subtle change to Regulus expression that nearly goes unnoticed- nearly. Remus opens his mouth but Regulus interrupts him, releasing his collar and stepping back. “Alright.”
Remus blinks at him. “Alright?”
Regulus looks up, eyes burning with ice. His voice comes out low and dangerous. “Alright, Lupin. I understand. We both agree, then. I’m not nearly good enough for him. But know this: I haven’t forgotten your little secret. I haven’t, and won’t. I think a lot of people would be very interested to know where you go every month, don’t you?” Remus can’t help his short intake of breath as Regulus tips his head, eyes glittering. “So let me make myself perfectly clear. If you think about- if you even consider - telling a soul about me and James, I will personally ensure every single person in this castle knows exactly what you are.” He narrows his eyes into slits. “I can make promises too, Lupin.”
Remus’s pulse accelerates as Regulus smirks, stepping back. “Regul-”
“That’s all.” Regulus turns and sets off before Remus can stop him, leaving him panting and frozen against the wall.
He can’t think, can’t move, because first Sirius and now Regulus... the secret he’s shoved down for 16 years is closer to the surface than ever.
So instead of going to class, Remus sinks down the wall. Head between his knees, he focuses on the grout between the floor tiles and tries to convince himself he’s safe in his own skin.
---
Maybe there’s guilt, somewhere, but Regulus shoves it down. He doesn’t have time for that- not now. Not when he has to get to Charms. He shudders, shaking his head. He’s still trying to calm himself down, still trying to regulate his breath rate.
It’s sudden, when it happens. About as sudden as the first two times.
“ATTENTION STUDENTS. KOLDOVSTORETZ SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY HAS BEEN ATTACKED. FIND THE CLOSEST CLASSROOM. HOGWARTS IS UNDER LOCKDOWN.”