Draco has a problem
Years later, people would say it all started with Harry Potter, but Draco knew that was a lie: it all started with Regulus Black.
Draco knew the story, like everyone else in the wizarding world: Regulus Black had betrayed the dark lord and, consequently, changed the balance of the war. Depending on who you ask he was either a hero or a traitor. In the environment that Draco grew up in, surrounded by people who had relatives imprisoned or executed because of him, the second moniker was certainly more used, usually accompanied by a curse.
(Although there was a layer of respect, or fear, that many did not want to admit. The great battle had been in public and the hunt for Horcruxes was legendary. To this day, people argue whose spell was the one that took down Voldemort forever, if it was Dumbledore, Regulus, or Sirius. The public was inclined to believe it was Dumbledore's, but those who grew up in a family like Draco's knew a dark magic spell when they saw one, especially one from a Black.)
His father hated Regulus Black even more than he hated Sirius. Draco was sure that if it were up to Lucius, Draco would have hated him too. However, his mother was Black before a Malfoy and always would be. And a Black knew the importance of family.
Narcissa was smart enough to realize that Dumbledore was the lesser of the evils. Things might not be perfect, but they were safer for her son. That was the most important thing to her.
It helped that she had a preference for her younger cousin (Narcissa adored her little Regulus). So, obviously, Narcissa would find a way for her son to meet him.
Draco was 8 years old when he met Regulus Black (and Sirius Black, but who cares?). They were in a private room in a bar in Diagon Alley, and the first thing Draco remembers focusing on was the scars. On the arms and neck, going up the jaw in thin visible lines. It could not be removed by magic, as was usually the case when they were infringed upon by magical creatures. Like an inferius.
Regulus looked like a smaller version of the man behind him, Sirius Black, who was tense and suspicious. They had the same eyes and facial structure, but Regulus had a softer appearance. His face was almost youthful, his build more delicate and fragile. It made Draco think of a fractured glass sculpture.
More than that, their eyes were so different: while Sirius' was like a storm, Regulus' was moonlight-like and faraway.
And Draco remembered those eyes, how they looked at him in a melancholy expression that he couldn't understand.
"Hello, Draco. This time, you will be happy."
(No, Draco would never understand, like many didn't understand Regulus Black. Few knew the truth, the things he knew about a future that would never happen. That he left that cave with the knowledge that made him change everything. How Regulus knew what it was like to die, only to wake up with claws in his body and drowning, knowing he would have a new chance to change everything.
No, Draco would never know about that or the dark future he had escaped.)
Regulus Black was a reclusive hero, but he was always there for Draco.
Telling him things that went against everything his father taught him, in the eyes of his mother, who never contradicted Regulus.
Regulus changed everything.
And Draco had loved Regulus ever since.
...........................................................
("Black Madness." Some would whisper, seeing the broken man.
"A powerful seer, like Lord Black." Others would say.
Lord Black, years before, would look at his grandson and taste his family's magic, wild and unpredictable. It clung to him, trying to survive a future where it was gone.
He could not explain why it chose his more fragile and naive grandson, but he knew one day he would need it.
It would shatter and remade Regulus, doing everything to survive.
"You will die and be alive." He whispered in one of the few moments where he was present, holding Regulus tiny hand and seeing black water. "A ghost who breaths, be here and there, and everywhere. It will break you into too many pieces. Some will be lost forever."
"What can I do?" The little boy asked, silver eyes wide, still whole. They wouldn't be whole forever.
"What Blacks always do: endure and make it yours." )
.................................................... ......
At Hogwarts, they would have tea in Regulus' office and talk about his life.
Draco didn't like sharing the attention of his favorite cousin, but it was impossible not to. Not with the entire Slytherin house monopolizing Professor Black's attention. He was a war hero and proof to every one of his house's honor and how the rumors about it weren't true.
Don't get it wrong, he was a good professor, but Regulus still had that distant and fragile air about him. Somedays, he would walk as if he wasn't even there, but in a place that none could reach him, lost in the cracks in his mind.
(It was a scary moment, the thought that one day they could lose him forever.).
And Regulus was helpless about the attention he received, good and bad.
So, it was their job to protect him because he was theirs. Draco could accept this, even grudgingly.
The problem was the other students who wanted his attention. Draco couldn't accept that.
Mainly Harry Potter. Who had grown up around Regulus and wanted his full attention, clinging on like a weed as if Regulus were his.
The bastard already had fame from growing up around five war heroes, two of whom were his parents, and he still wanted more. Did he want all of Regulus' attention? He wasn't even a Slytherin!
Draco hated him for that. And he wasn't shy about saying it whenever he could. To Potter or Regulus.
"You guys will get along just fine," Regulus would say with a smile he couldn't understand. "Just wait."
At times like these, he was sure Regulus was as crazy as they said he was.
...................
"Why do I always have to be in detentions with this idiot?"
Draco complained, cleaning the cauldron with a grumble. He thought having his cousin there would at least help him, but Regulus had the absurd idea of playing fair.
Draco blamed his coexistence with the 4 Gryffindors that his mother always remarked on.
(People commented, of course. The rumors about Regulus and the Potter couple having a strange relationship were as infamous as the one about the golden trio. Draco wondered if it was in Potter's DNA to be a chaos disaster.)
Harry Potter glanced at him sideways, not looking happy, but at the same time not entirely unhappy with the task.
Maybe because he was busy looking at Regulus like only a 13-year-old boy can do around a crush.
He didn't even hide it. Draco wanted to punch him.
Like a muggle.
He blamed Sirius Black for this.
"Hey!"
He threw the bushing at the other boy, Potter didn't even dodge it. Regulus continued organizing the cupboard, ignoring their fighting over a cauldron.
"You're going to get along one day. Just wait."
.............................
Draco had known Regulus since he was eight, but he only saw that scar when he was 16.
What made the situation worse was that Harry Potter didn't seem surprised. He kicked Draco under the table when he opened his mouth to ask, seeing the mass of tissue on Regulus's forearm.
They were in detention together again (it was Potter's fault, of course), and Draco was grateful for his upbringing for not putting his foot in his mouth. Regulus had many scars, but this one seemed...self-imposed.
When the two finally left, to his surprise, they continued together through the isolated hallways in an almost comfortable silence. Potter grabbed his sleeve and guided him to an intersection, away from the potions class.
"You know. Tell me." He demanded, but the other didn't seem annoyed, his eyes sad.
"Never ask him about that." Draco opened his mouth, but the other interrupted him. "That's why I'll tell you. Don't ask. He will be sad."
Draco had wanted to ask since when he was an expert on Regulus. Draco was the one in the family, not him. He thought it best to keep quiet. He was smart like that. And nosy.
"It was the mark." Potter spoke quietly. "He tried to rip out what was left of it. I was the one who found him. Mum helped stop the bleeding. His arm...Just don't mention it. Makes him sad. That's why he never shows it to anyone."
Draco didn't know what to say. He had seen his father's mark one day, almost transparent after so many years, but still there, even with Voldermort truly gone.
"When..."
"I was six years old." Potter spoke uncomfortably.
Draco imagined a tiny Potter finding Regulus bleeding somewhere in the house, probably in an episode, scared and trying to help.
Maybe Potter had a right like him to have Regulus around. They were the family that Regulus chose.
And for the first time, he felt something more than irritation for that boy. They had more in common than he thought.
"I won't ask."
He started to hate Harry Potter less.
..............................................
"He doesn't like attention."
"No, he doesn't."
Regulus didn't need to ask who he was talking about. Draco talked more about Harry Potter than was healthy.
"Lily and Remus don't either. Thank Merlin he's more like them than the other two idiots in that house."
Regulus spoke of the Gryffindors fondly. Draco wanted to ask about his relationship with them but always felt hesitant. He knew Sirius Black was always around his brother like a bodyguard. Once, he saw James Potter wrapped around him gently, like he could protect Regulus from the world. Professor Lupin cared for him like he seemed to care for Harry, like family.
But it was Lily Potter that he mostly seemed to get along with him, a Muggle-born.
Draco could see the irony in that.
"I guess he's not that stupid sometimes." He grumbled lowly. "Sometimes only."
Regulus smiled, his eyes sparkling and more present than ever.
....................................
Draco was scrubbing the cauldron next to Potter, the two exchanging insults, but it was playful. It was not bad.
And then, Potter beamed in his direction, his green eyes sparkling, smiling gently as Lily's Potter and all mischief as James Potter.
Draco paused in the middle of their word sparring and received a tilted head as a question, green eyes wide and confused.
"All right, Draco?."
Harry looked like a bird. Like Regulus would look sometimes, maybe he learned it from him.
Harry Potter was a strange creature: He had the wild grin of Sirius Black, the chaotic energy of James Potter, and the lovely awkwardness of Remus Lupin. He was as loyal and kind as Lily Potter and as gently as Regulus could be.
He was an amalgamation of everyone who loved him. He was born to be loved.
And Draco, the greedy little Slytherin that he was, wanted to hold him and never let go.
And at that moment, as he met Regulus's eyes across the table, looking at them with a small smile, he finally understood the comments all those years. Why he took all of their detentions and put them together.
Regulus Black was much more attentive than his faraway eyes seemed.
........................................
When Draco kissed Harry Potter for the first time inside the locker room after a Quidditch game, he looked at the green eyes (his favorite color) and that stupid smile that challenged him and wanted to hit Regulus.
It was all his fault.
"Damn, Regulus."
Potter smiled: "Are we going to talk about him right now? When I was six, I promised I would marry him..."
Draco shut him up with a kiss.
Damn, Harry Potter.
...........................................
"You always knew, didn't you?"
Draco accused his cousin, sitting comfortably in an armchair in the Potter house.
A ring was heavy in his pocket.
Regulus closed the book and smiled, that same mysterious expression that had made him so enchanted by him when he was a child.
"I told you would be happy this time, little dragon. You two deserved more."
Draco didn't understand yet, but he was grateful Regulus was so persistent.
"Hey! Aren't you guys coming?" Harry poked his head into the room. Cheeks red and sweaty, a broom in hand. "The game is going to start!"
Draco smiled, holding the other's hand.
It was the fourth time they had gone back and forth since their Hogwarts days. Draco knew he couldn't test Harry anymore, or he wouldn't have another chance.
Harry Potter was the type to get away. He was like a golden snitch.
A golden snitch that Draco was lucky to have caught.
"I'll be the Seeker this time."
And Draco wouldn't let him slip out of his hands anymore.