The Send-Off
Chapter 1: The Send Off
Sirius was walking at least three meters ahead of Regulus and his mother, his dark hair overgrown and blowing wildly in the London wind. Regulus’ mother sneered at him, the wrinkles in her face contorting to the expression after so many years of making it, as none of the youth potions could seem to rid her of the ugliness.
“Let me see your school list, pet,” she said to Regulus, watching with narrowed eyes as Sirius disappeared into a shop. “It’ll just be the two of us today.”
Regulus smiled brightly, trying to ease the tension, and produced the list from inside of his robes. It was his coveted Hogwarts acceptance letter, one he was immensely anxious of not receiving, and embarrassingly slept with under his pillow.
His mother and him started at Madam Malkin’s Robes for all Occasions, entering the shop to a plump woman shouting a warbly “Hello!” and a bell twinkling over top of their heads. His mother patted his shoulder and went to go inspect the woman’s dress robes, muttering something about a Ministry party she must buy an outfit for, and Regulus was left to his own devices.
A tape measure flew through the air and began measuring his legs and arms as he tried desperately to shake it off, feeling wildly out of place in the bright lights of the shop. The woman, Madam Malkin presumably, came bustling around the corner as she huffed with all of the excitement.
“Hello!” She said brightly, taking the tape measure absentmindedly and writing down the measurements in glittering gold in the air, Regulus staring uncomfortably. “Are you a first year student, starting at Hogwarts? You’re a Black, aren’t you? The youngest of them? Regulus, your name is, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Regulus said stiffly, allowing himself to be pulled through the shop and to a mirrored wall. “I’ll be needing green ties, if you will. I’m for Slytherin.”
Madam Malkin tutted at him, shaking her head. “I assumed your brother would be needing green ties as well, turns out he needed the red! I don’t sell to those who aren’t one hundred percent sure-”
“I’m one hundred percent sure,” Regulus interrupted, curling his lips into a sneer that resembled his mother. “And I’ll need first year robes, please.”
The woman blinked in surprise but ultimately hurried off to the other side of the store, the tape measure seemingly conflicted between following its mistress or continuing to measure a pissed-off Regulus. Once Regulus had backhanded it away for the last time, it seemed to flit off with as much attitude as a tape measure could have.
Regulus narrowly managed to not stick his tongue out at it.
Madam Malkin fitted black robes around his body and knelt down, flicking her wand to hem the edges. Regulus stood stiffly, incredibly uncomfortable being surrounded by mirrors and his mothers perfume burning his nose.
“Very dashing,” his mother said, her mouth quirking up in the corner. “I just wish-”
She took her finger and pinched at the fabric bunching at Regulus’ waist, tutting slightly. “This can be taken in, don’t you think? Come on, love, you know you’ll lose more weight when you’re away from home. It’ll be good for you.”
“The robes will automatically adjust,” Madam pitched in, collecting an assortment of hangers in one hand. “So we don’t need to worry about taking it in prematurely! Most children actually gain some weight while they’re-”
“I don’t recall,” Regulus’ mother said, her eyes trained on his waist as she tapped her wand against it. It seemed to suction to him and he caught his breath, trying to please his mother. “I don’t recall,” she repeated, casting an eye over to Madam Malkin, “asking for your opinion. Do you recall it, Regulus?”
Regulus shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
“Hm.” His mother carelessly threw her dress robes over and Malkin caught them, scoffing ever so slightly. “Let’s leave, my darling. I think we’ve found more than enough.”
Regulus finally shed the robe that was tightened so uncomfortably around his waist and rubbed his hand over the angry marks, shaking out his curls. His mother swayed from side to side as she walked up to the register where a red-faced Madam Malkin was waiting, writing down the robes and tallying the numbers as his mother’s pockets tinkled with the sound of gold clashing together.
They paid and his mothers flicked her hand, the wands floating behind them as they stalked down the alley. No one would steal them, not here, not from the Noble House of Black. Regulus swallowed under the unspoken protection of his family seal.
They went to a store and bought a solid cauldron and eight meters of parchment, four quills and two pots of ink. Regulus nearly begged for the sugar quills but knew it’d be no use, his mother didn’t believe in such a useless food source. Candy might as well have been created by Albus Dumbledore himself, created just to poison little boy’s stomachs and confuse their heads.
Regulus adored lemon drops. Sirius had brought home five sheets and Regulus had licked them all clean in the first week of June, guarding them under his floorboard. He snuck a pack into the pocket of his robes and left a knut in its place, hoping the shop owner would understand.
He bound up to the Owl Emporium and cooed softly at an orange owl, small but soft with warm eyes. The owl fluttered down to his arm and nuzzled into his bicep, allowing Regulus to scratch behind its ears with a tenderness reserved only for the kindest animals.
“Mum?” He called out, turning in a circle. “Mum?”
“Yes, what is it, pet?” His mother appeared behind him, striding along the alley with dull clicks of her heels and trying discreetly to stuff a brown paper bag into her robes. He briefly wondered what it was, but there was no use in asking.
“Can I get an owl?” Regulus looked up and batted his eyes, holding the orange owl up hopefully. “Please, mum, can’t I?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Mum,” Regulus said, feeling close to tears. “Please, I want this one!”
“You can just take Sirius’,” she snapped, turning down the alley.
“I don’t want Sirius’ owl!” Regulus nearly shouted, nestling his nose against the owl’s soft wing. “I want this one! Sirius’ owl is stupid!”
“Don’t say stupid.” His mother strode back and snapped her fingers at the owl, startling it and causing it to flutter away. Regulus stuck out his bottom lip as tears pooled in his eyes. “And you will take Sirius’ owl, do you understand?”
“What’s wrong?” Sirius called down the street, his heavy boots hitting the stones as he walked toward the two of them. “Why are you talking about me?”
His mother opened up her mouth, taking a deep breath, but Regulus cut her off by pointing angrily at her. “Mum won’t buy me an owl,” he whined, taking a shaky breath. “And- and she scared it away, and now it won’t ever come back, but I wanted it!”
“You are embarrassing me,” his mother hissed, grabbing the nape of his neck.
“Alright, alright.” Sirius reached a large hand out to pet through his hair gently. “You can take my owl, how does that sound?”
“I don’t want your owl!”
“You will take whatever I give you,” his mother said, tugging him roughly down the street.
“But-”
“Regulus,” Sirius said, more of a warning than anything else. “Mother, let go of him.”
“He-”
“People are staring,” Sirius added. “You wouldn’t want this to get to Minister Crouch.”
His mother let out a lengthy sigh and let go of him harshly, jostling his head back. Regulus’ eyes welled up with tears as he leaned against Sirius and let out a shaky breath, reaching back sadly to the emporium. “I want it,” he whispered, and Sirius raked a hand through his hair.
“I know,” he whispered back, and they both watched as their mother sped up and her robes flowed behind her, her mouth set angrily. “Just take Beater, alright?”
“That’s such a stupid name,” Regulus sniffed.
“Don’t say stupid.” Sirius lightly hit his arm. “And don’t be mean to Beater, he’s quite fragile.”
Regulus let out a weak chuckle and Sirius regaled him with stories of Beater and James and how they would fight in the dorms, or how once Beater chased Sirius out into a Quidditch field as he watched morning practice with a howler that woke the entire castle up.
“It’ll be alright,” Sirius said cheerfully, once they reached the floo fireplace and were waiting patiently in line. “There will be other owls.”
“Not like this one,” Regulus told him seriously.
“You’re going to love Beater,” Sirius said, ruffling his hair. “So stop complaining.”
“Okay.” Regulus leaned against a rough brick wall and took his mother in, her sharp cheeks and stiff posture. He was going to miss her, he thought, maybe just a little. He did love her quite a bit.
xxx
“Does Master Regulus require any help with his packing?”
Regulus jumped as he heard the voice behind him, putting a cold hand over his fast-beating heart and sitting on the edge of his bed. “Kreacher, my goodness,” he said warmly, offering a smile. “You scared me.”
“My apologies, sir.” Kreacher inclined his head with a warbly voice, his hand worrying a hole on his tattered cloth that hardly passed for an outfit. “I just- I just wanted to see if you were alright, sir. Packing for your first year is quite overwhelming.”
“I’m alright,” Regulus said softly, kneeling in front of Kreacher. “Would you like me to fix your shawl, Kreacher? I can sew it up for you.”
“Oh, no, sir.” Kreacher took a step back as if Regulus was going to force him, looking around wildly. “You mustn’t take or give Kreacher clothes, master, you are very aware of this rule!”
“Please, just let me fix it. You won’t even need to take it off.” Regulus dug through his nightstand and found the needle and thread he kept handy, inching toward Kreacher with the needle sticking out between his lips. “Please, I cannot let you walk around with a hole. It’s not right.”
Kreacher nodded slowly and let Regulus pinch the fabric with creased eyebrows and sew it up gently, careful to not prick his skin.
“Kreacher acquired this by burning the potatoes,” he told Regulus seriously, as Regulus drew back and patted his shoulder.
“Well, that’s alright, Kreacher. Did it catch a fire?”
“No, Mistress hexed Kreacher for his negligence in the kitchen.” Kreacher shook his head sadly, rubbing his arm. “She was quite right, I do not know why my attention was elsewhere. Perhaps I was just worried about you going off to school, Sir.”
“Mother hexed you?” Regulus asked, looking incredulous. “Why on earth would she do that?”
“Well, Kreacher wasn’t following orders, you see? I was to make dinner, but I burned it instead. Cost her five extra minutes, that did, due to Kreacher’s foolishness.”
“I’m very sorry she did that, Kreacher.” Regulus felt ashamed of his mother, hexing an elf for no other reason than five minutes in which she did nothing. “She had no right.”
“Please do not say that, Master. Mistress has every right to punish Kreacher as she sees fit,” Kreacher stated, as if he made the rules and was happy to accept them with no complaint.
Regulus fell quiet, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and studying Kreacher closely. Finally, at a loss for conversation, he moved towards the bed. “Would you help me fold my clothes, Kreacher? Please? I’m afraid I left my packing off until the last night.”
Kreacher brightened at a task Regulus gave him, bounding up to the bed and happily taking a stack of robes to fold. “Kreacher was not handed these clothes,” he murmured to himself, folding them. “Kreacher took these from the bed, and is thus not released of any servitude.”
His reminder of that made Regulus sad for some inexplicable reason, and he lined his trunk with heavy robes and jeans as he thought it over. “I really appreciate you doing this for me,” he told Kreacher finally. “I really appreciate everything you do for me, I will miss you quite a bit.”
Kreacher looked up at him with wide, shining eyes and told him that he was welcome home anytime he felt he needed a good (honestly good) meal of cheesy potatoes, and that Kreacher would happily oblige to any of Regulus’ friends’ needs, should they be coming over as well.
When Regulus climbed into bed that night, he found himself tearing up over the thought of leaving Kreacher behind more than either of his parents. He was sure there would be other house elves, but none as close to Regulus’ heart as Kreacher. No one would make his potatoes right, and no one would so happily serve a family that hexed them over a burnt dinner.
He rolled over to look out of the window, saddened to see a view he won’t see for another three months.
xxx
Regulus watched with parted lips as his big brother ran from his side at the train platform.
They had been together all day, Sirius stacking all of Regulus’ textbooks in his trunk and styling his short curls with careful hands. Sirius had rubbed his back when he almost vomited from the floo, and Regulus had shook the ash off of Sirius’ shirt for him.
Sirius’ curls had grown over his ears and were tickling the back of his neck, something that he pretended he wasn’t immensely proud of. Regulus watched his back as he ran into a boy’s arms and sunk into his chest, his eyes fluttering closed and his shoulders relaxing.
Oh.
The boy was holding Sirius with dark arms and resting his cheek on the crown of his curls, seeming to cradle him.
Oh.
Regulus felt sick to his stomach. His chest twisted and his vision went blurry, his shoulders sinking with the weight that this boy carried. Sirius never ran from his side, and especially not to someone else. Sirius always sank closer when there was another person.
Another boy had appeared, this one tall and scarred with a lanky frame. Sirius all but jumped onto him, tears running down his cheeks. Was he that miserable at home?
A blonde boy appeared and they all cheered, loud and obnoxious even from across the platform. Regulus decided that he had seen enough, and turned away.
He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to remind himself how to breathe, his mothers kiss still burning the hollow of his cheek. He tried to remember that Sirius wasn’t his, that he could have other friends and people that loved him.
The only difference was that Regulus didn’t have any fucking friends.
He was just about to figure out where to get onto the train and put his trunk- absolutely no thanks to his brother- when he ran into a tall boy’s chest.
He fell back with a shocked breath and an apology on the tip of his tongue, his eyes looking up and meeting a Malfoy’s.
“Whoa, slow down there,” the boy said, reaching down his hand.
Regulus scrambled to his feet and his cheeks burned as he reached desperately for his composure. The boy was a Malfoy, that was for sure, his blonde hair and nearly Veela like cheekbones a dead give away.
“Hello,” the boy said smoothly, reaching out his hand. “You’re Regulus Black, yeah? Narcissa’s little cousin?”
Lucius, Regulus remembered suddenly. Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa’s courtship.
“Yes, I am,” Regulus said, hoping to sound even half as smooth as Lucius did. “Is she around?”
Lucius had a fond smile on his face as he glanced around, eyes bright. “Oh, she’s around here somewhere. I haven’t seen her yet, however, I- oofh-”
Narcissa’s small frame had suddenly connected with his chest as she clung to him, her hair swinging around her shoulders and her face more genuinely happy as Regulus had ever seen.
“Hello, love,” Lucius laughed, making a punched-out sigh of relief when she squeezed him even tighter.
“Oh, hi.” Narcissa finally detangled herself from his arms, leaning against his tall frame and kissing his wrist where it hung around her shoulders. “How are you?”
“I’m good, I was just talking to your cousin-” He didn’t get to finish, Narcissa had gasped and moved to cup Regulus in her arms.
“Hello, my love,” she whispered, and Regulus tried to act like he wasn’t clinging desperately to her.
“Hey, Cissa,” he croaked, horrified to find tears burning his eyes. The train was loud and mothers were clutching their children and crying, owls and cats chasing on another and the delighted shouts of students. He was so alone.
Narcissa pulled back and Regulus clung to her hand like a scared child in a ball. She studied his face, her own sympathetic but still strikingly beautiful. She glanced over and saw Sirius clutching his friend’s shoulder with one hand and his stomach with the other, in stitches from his loud laughter.
Lucius looked on distastefully, Narcissa with something akin to anger, and Regulus with a deep, hollow knot of sadness.
“Right,” Lucius said suddenly and Narcissa tugged Regulus with her, his wrist small in her dainty hands. She had a silver ring on her left hand, the Malfoy Suit of Arms on it with an inscription too small for Regulus to read.
“I- Cissa- what about the bags?” Regulus stumbled after her.
“Lucius will get them, love, don’t worry so much.” Narcissa tugged him onto the train and Regulus watched as Lucius carefully loaded all three trunks into the side. “You’re going to get wrinkles if you keep furrowing your brows, you know.”
Narcissa swept a cool hand over his forehead and Regulus relaxed a bit, realizing with a horrifying jolt he was still clutching her hand.
“It’s so scary the first time, isn’t it?” Narcissa pulled him down the corridors and into a room toward the back of the train, all delightfully empty. “I remember that I had to be all but carried in by Andy, Bella had already graduated by then.”
Andy and Bella- Andromeda and Bellatrix. The famous Black sisters, known for their beautiful looks. Men used to describe them as having sharp cheekbones and even sharper tongues, which Regulus found cruel, even as a child.
“I’m not afraid,” Regulus said boldly. “Just- confused.”
“It’s confusing, too.”
They settled into their seats, Regulus with stiff-backed posture and Narcissa with a practiced sort of gracefulness that came from extravagant dinner parties and too many men looking at you far too young.
“So, erm, how are Bella and Andy?” Regulus asked awkwardly, desperately reaching for conversation.
Bellatrix was insane, a pureblood believer to the most psychotic ends. She used to crow about muggle hunting as a sport, right over Regulus’ dinner, and it twisted his stomach as a child. Andromeda was the quiet sister, her blunt hair and tone cloaking her wit and charm.
And, of course, there was Narcissa. Beautiful, loyal, a mediator of sorts. She had essentially been in courtship with Lucius since they were children, Regulus always grew up with Lucius’ name being swapped around dinner tables. Narcissa’s giddy tone, her bright red cheeks, an embarrassed Mum!
“Oh, Bellatrix is doing just lovely. I believe she’s engaged to Rodulphus Lestrange now.” Narcissa cut herself off suddenly, her mouth curved down. “Andromeda is on holiday in Ireland.”
Regulus nodded, racking his brain. “That’s nice.”
Narcissa had a sort of amused look on her face as she crossed her legs and leaned in toward Regulus, twirling a lock of her hair in two fingers. “So, how was your summer? I’m sorry I wasn’t around much, darling, Lucius took me to Germany for the entirety of June.”
“It was fine. Boring, but fine. Did you have a nice time?” Regulus asked.
Narcissa smiled again. “I did, yes.”
Lucius appeared again, his cheeks pink and slightly out of breath. “Do you need anything?” He asked breathlessly, looking down at Narcissa with sparkly eyes. “Do you need a tea?”
“I need you to come sit next to me,” Narcissa replied, patting the seat next to her. “Come on, love, you work too hard.”
Lucius settled into her side and threw an arm around her shoulders, looking immensely proud of himself for having achieved such a small task. The two swapped a look that was loaded with accusations that Regulus wouldn’t even pretend to understand, and Lucius leaned forward to place a warm palm on Regulus’ knee.
“So,” Lucius said suddenly, clapping Regulus’ knee. “What classes are you most excited for?”
Regulus shrugged for a second, his heartbeat slowing by the minute, and leaned back in the seat. “I dunno.”
Sirius’ favorite class was charms, he came home from school and practiced his movements in the mirror. Swish and flick, Reg, good. Good job, love, Wingardium Leviosa. Say it with me now, Wingaradium Leviosa. Lovely, Reg, you’re going to be top of your class.
His mother was proficient at herbology, twisted plants growing around the windows of his childhood home with leaves that slice and hex, ones that toddler hands grabbed before they realized the weight of what questioning was. Plants that came in deep green and white, purple and the rare blood red. Vines that could heal the slices of the others, or make them sting, depending on how sorry you seemed.
His father, though, seemed to have the most twisted magic on the tip of his wand. He could transfigure things without a murmur, a quick exhale and your teacup is a gerbil. A flick of his hand and your hair are snakes, your hands covered in raven feathers, your legs bloody remainders of what they could’ve been.
A bellow in your face and your body is as good as a corpse.
It had fucked Sirius up when they were kids, he’d walk around for days as an empty shell of the boy he was. He’d wake up in the shower, in the backyard, lying on the cold stone next to the fireplace. He would crawl into Regulus’ bed at night and touch his arm to remind himself that he was real.
He never said it, but Regulus could feel it. It was in his glazed eyes and empty comments.
Regulus didn’t know what his favorite class would be. “Probably potions,” he murmured, meeting Narcissa’s eye briefly. “I heard the, er, professor is lovely-”
“Professor Slughorn!” She gasped and hit Lucius’ chest lightly. “Oh, my love, we’ll introduce you to him at once! Maybe he can be a part of the club, Lucius, darling, can’t you convince Slughorn? It’d be amazing for him to be with us, yeah?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Lucius told her, looking up to wink at Regulus.
The train had begun picking up speed, the London countryside blurring into gray skies and bright green grass outside of the fogged window. Narcissa had settled into Lucius’ chest as she hummed slowly, his hands petting through her curls and her’s wrapped up in Regulus’.
He heard Cissa murmur lowly to Lucius and he responded with his deep voice, love sick in the way that he said his vowels. When she laughed the vibrations passed from the tips of her fingers to where they were buried in Regulus’ scalp, and for the first time in weeks he fell into a dreamless sleep.
-
Regulus woke up to rain knocking against the window lightly, the background of Narcissa’s tinkling laugh and the deep voice of someone he didn’t know.
He sat up and rubbed his eyes, feeling distinctly humiliated at having been asleep in another's company, and met the cool gray eyes of another man. He had a cigarette between two fingers and his legs thrown carelessly over the green seats, his arms behind his head.
They studied one another, Regulus feeling wildly out of place and heavily scrutinized.
“Oh, good, you’re awake!” Narcissa gestured between Regulus and the strange man, her face light with her laughter. “Regulus, meet Yaxley. This is him and his girlfriend, Lucinda-”
“Call me Lucy,” the girl said, her blonde hair swinging around her waist. “Lucy Talksalot. It’s a pleasure.”
Regulus scrunched his nose up at the funny name and nodded. “I’m Regulus, Regulus Black.”
“Oh, sweetheart, we know.” Lucy laughed something that was not at all like Narcissa’s comforting one, but full of condescending notes. “How’s Uncle? I missed him this summer.”
Regulus swallowed a lump of anxiety and put on his best politics smile, one that he’s perfected since he was a toddler at dinner parties. “Oh, my father is positively lovely- he’s in London right now for a meeting with the minister so he couldn’t be here to wish us off.”
That was a lie, his father was not in London, much less for a meeting with the minister. He was sitting in a dark dining room drowning himself in single malt whiskey, but that fact left much to be desired.
“Oh, here’s Mulciber,” the man said, like he was uninterested at best. His arm was thrown around Lucy’s shoulders like she was nothing, and the cigarette smoke was suffocating Regulus.
Narcissa’s hand tightened on Regulus’ knee, her baby pink nails digging through his trousers. He kept close to her shoulder as her gaze cut over to where a heavy-set man was leaning in the doorway, his hair unwashed and his jeans covered in mysterious stains.
“Malfoy,” the man shouted, shaking Lucius’ hand enthusiastically. “Lucius, my man, it’s been too long! How have you been?”
“Good, good,” Lucius said dryly. “I’ve been well, how was your summer?”
“It was awesome, it was good. I see you’ve still got your fox on your arm, Cissa, how have you been?”
“Just wonderful,” Narcissa said sourly. “This is my cousin, Regulus Black. He’s a first year.”
“Awesome, dude.” Mulciber laughed and stuck out his hand. “Show me some skin, brother.”
Regulus blinked, looking at Narcissa for approval. She nodded slightly and he awkwardly reached out to give Mulciber a high-five, shrinking back against her shoulder. He watched as she gazed distastefully at where he had started a conversation with an unenthused Yaxley, using wide hand gestures to make a point.
“I take it we don’t like Mulciber?” He whispered, watching as Lucius lit a cigarette and held it to Cissa’s mouth for her.
“No,” she coughed, brushing over from where she left marks on his knee with her nails. “No, he is only the most wicked case of a pure-blood turned ghetto I’ve ever seen.” Her facial features twisted with the word, her nose wrinkling. “Absolutely no respect for the sanctum of the lineage, only the privilege that he may steal from it. He appears unaware of what it costs, beyond torturing these poor souls day in and out for his pea-brained entertainment!”
Regulus nodded, folding it all into his head for later usage. “So, we don’t just dislike him, we hate him?”
“Don’t say hate, honey, it’s an unkind word.” Narcissa shook her head, accepting another drag of Lucius’ cigarette. Her pink lipstick had smudged around it and Lucius’ mouth was looking especially rosy, whether from the cigarette or other activities, Regulus had no idea.
“I am not a fan,” she said finally. “Of cruelty for the sake of cruelty. What I do, and what Lucius does, are out of protection for our family. You understand that, don’t you?”
Regulus nodded fervently again. “As any loyal member would.”
“What Mulciber does,” she continued, watching Lucius ash his cigarette out on the bottom of his dress shoes, “is out of protection for none other than himself, and for none other than entertainment of watching those suffer.”
“And,” Lucius said, leaning over to look at Regulus. “He is a royal dick.”
“That too,” Narcissa nodded. “There’s always that.”
“I understand. He doesn’t seem very charming.” Regulus looked at Lucius’ suit pocket and the outline of a cigarette box, looking up at Narcissa hopefully. “Cissa, can I have a cigarette?”
“Absolutely not” she said, and slapped his hand. “And don’t you ask again.”
Regulus pouted and Lucius roared with laughter, clutching Narcissa close and dropping a kiss in her hair. “That’s my girl,” he said, mouthing over the top of her head a quick later to Regulus.
Regulus beamed.
xxx
“You’re going on the boats, darling.” Narcissa held out an arm to stop Regulus from boarding a carriage with her and Lucius. “Hagrid will take you. Go on.”
Regulus stumbled away and blinked through the rain, watching Lucius place his hand in the small of Narcissa’s back to help her into the carriage. He turned in a circle and found the familiar ache in the back of his throat that made him want to cry.
He swallowed it down and picked a direction.
He finally broke through the crowd and saw a large, heavy-set and gruff looking man waving around a lantern and shouting in a gravelly voice. “First years, first years!” He was boarding scared looking children into wooden boats and kicking them off into the lake, them whirling around in the darkness.
“First years!”
Regulus snapped into action and walked over to Hagrid, crossing his arms over his chest. Hagrid looked down at him and blinked, rain water collecting in his bushy beard. It made Regulus feel sick.
“This is fer’ first years only, Sirius. Go on, git. Up with the horsies you go.”
Regulus opened his mouth indignantly, holding up a finger. “I’m not Sirius, sir, I’m Regulus Black.”
“Oh!” Hagrid huffed a belly laugh and kicked another boat into the lake, winking down at him. “So yer’ the last of them Blacks, huh? Yer’ not hidin’ any more chilren’ up your sleeve?”
Regulus shook his head, bewildered. “No, sir. I’m the youngest.”
“Alright, off ya go then.” Hagrid all but picked him up and set him into a boat, manhandling another poor boy right next to him before kicking them both out into the water.
Regulus clutched the side and focused on not vomiting, putting his head between his knees. The water was black and helplessly deep, probably hiding a dark mass of deathly creatures. Regulus hated creatures that he didn’t know. They’re the quickest route to death.
“I’m Evan,” the boy next to him said. “Evan Rosier. It’s nice to meet you.”
Regulus shook his hand with his head still between his knees, trying and failing to pull himself up. “Regulus Black. It’s a pleasure.”
Evan shifted next to him and tentatively offered him a small flask from inside his robes. “Here,” he murmured, uncapping it. “For the nausea. My momma made me some just in case I felt ill on the train.”
Regulus looked between the flask and the boy, taking in his creamy skin and tight curls that bounced around his eyes. “You said you’re a Rosier?” He asked finally, taking the flask and sniffing it. “Thank you.”
“Yes.” Evan watched with dark brown eyes as Regulus downed half of the flask and grimaced, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You really only need half, drinking the whole will for sure make you vomit. Trust me.”
Regulus cracked a smile and handed back the flask, watching Evan tuck it back into his robes. His stomach already felt settled, whether from the potion or the company he was unsure. “You were at the Malfoy’s Christmas party last year, weren’t you?”
“I was.”
“We corralled the peacocks together, didn’t we?”
“We did.”
They both smiled at one another, feeling soothed knowing that they had at least one friend during this journey. When they reached the shore Evan got out of the boat and held it steady for Regulus, dusting off his hands after. They stood shoulder to shoulder on the muddy bank, rain water dripping from Evan’s coils onto his dark skin, and Regulus thought to himself how handsome he looked.
They were all handsome, though, the pure bloods. Regulus and Sirius were as perfect as they came, their features symmetrical and their eyes the right shade of cool gray that they could be studied for hours. They were thin and had the same dark curls, though Regulus kept his a bit longer than Sirius ever had. He studied himself in the mirror as a child and found that his ears are just a bit asymmetrical- not so much that it was terribly noticeable but enough that it was all he could see in his reflection.
Evan and Pandora Rosier were beautiful, their eyes downturned and their smiles a bit too sharp. Their skin was creamy and dark, even in the winter, and Evan’s curls fell around his eyes in a way that made them look magiced on.
Professor McGonagall was standing at the entrance and shouting over the first year’s heads, her eyes just beginning to crease in the corners. She was very pretty.
“First years,” she shouted, flourishing with her wand. “First years all in a line, please, in a line!”
Regulus and Evan fell into the line in rapid succession, reaching the entrance and waiting for McGonagall to cross off their names.
“Regulus Black?” She asked, looking up at him with raised eyebrows.
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, shifting his weight. “Am I not on there?”
“Of course you are.” McGonagall shook her head almost affectionately, patting his shoulder. “You two come on in, get out of the rain.”
Regulus and Evan stood on the stone floor and shivered, wrapping themselves in their arms. Gusts of air were blowing in through the heavy wooden doors, and Regulus desperately wanted his momma so that she could dry his hair.
“Come this way,” Evan said, seizing Regulus’ elbow and tugging him in front of the roaring fire. The fireplace was three times as tall as Regulus and seemed to stretch across half of the hall, the fire roaring and the hot air combating with the cool.
Evan elbowed aside a group of rowdy looking people so that he and Regulus could stand closer to it, Regulus shivering violently. He was terrible with the cold and the rain, he could stand outside for even a minute during the winter and come down with a terrible cold.
“Are you nervous?” Evan asked, watching Regulus rub his hands up and down his biceps.
“Nervous for what? The sorting?” Evan nodded and Regulus laughed slightly. “Of course not. I’m going to Slytherin.”
“Oh,” Evan said, looking timid. “I wasn’t sure if you were because of your brother-”
Regulus’ eyes flashed dangerously and Evan shut up, snapping his mouth closed and casting his eyes to the floor. “I’ll get into Slytherin,” Regulus said hotly. “Sirius is irrelevant.”
“I agree,” Evan whispered. “I’m excited for the food.”
Regulus shrugged, knowing that none of these elves would make dinner the right way. He missed Kreacher already.
They got swept away in a crowd of people all going toward a noisy dining hall, and Regulus gaped once they entered.
His parents had described it in part and Sirius had described it in great detail, how the candles float in the air and the tables seemed weighed down with food. Regulus saw how the ceiling moved with the clouds and he could nearly hear the way that the rain fell, the candles turning into stars in the sky.
The tables were huge and packed with students, empty spots obvious for first years. Older siblings saving seats for their younger ones, gaps in friend groups where one person was missing. Seventh years missing their graduated friends and thinking about how it's their last year, second years bouncing with the knowledge that they never have to be sorted again.
The first years all huddled together on the stone floor, shivering and wet and bouncing with anticipation. Regulus and Evan crossed their arms and leaned on one hip, staring straight ahead. They were both terribly bored with it, and Regulus still couldn’t fight the feeling that something was going to go horrifically wrong.
He craned his neck to see where Sirius was while desperately trying to make it look like he wasn’t. Where there were empty seats saved for younger siblings, Sirius hadn’t saved him one. He was surrounded by crowds of people, his three other mates laughing at a story he was telling them.
Regulus got the same feeling at the back of his throat.
A hush fell over the room and Regulus snapped his head back to look at the podium, where an aging man was in a sensible gray three piece suit, his beard well groomed and his face lined with worry wrinkles. Albus Dumbledore. He was the headmaster at Hogwarts, the embodiment of “the man, the myth, the legend.”
Regulus had been warned of Dumbledore by his parents, of the tricks and lies that drip from his tongue. They told him that Dumbledore would warn him of a war, cloud judgment with the morality of right from wrong. His brother either didn’t hear the advice or didn’t heed it, because he came home with nothing but positives about Albus Dumbledore.
He had braced his arms on either side of a golden eagle podium, the candles dripping wax over this room, and leveled the room with his electric-blue stare. Regulus felt the shock shoot across the hall as the final conversation drowned out, everyone staring open mouthed at their headmaster.
“Good evening!” Dumbledore’s voice boomed as he raised up a hand in greeting, clutching his heart. There was a golden chain tucked into his suit, a small vial hanging above his heart. Regulus wondered what it was.
“Welcome back to another lovely year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”
The Great Hall collapsed into cheers, piercing whistles and shouts and a loud start of the song from the Gryffindor table. The first years all cheered excitedly beside Regulus, and he swallowed down his disgust to clap lightly.
“I am deeply honored and excited to see your faces back, and to see the new ones arriving,” Dumbledore said, his voice sounding artificially created to sound cheerful and proud. “And, of course, I am deeply sad to see the ones that are missing.”
The entire hall seemed to deflate at that, still missing those who were no longer in the houses. Regulus was mildly alarmed- hadn’t these children just graduated? Why was everyone acting like they had died?
“I hope everyone enjoys the sorting ceremony and the feast that has so lovingly been put together for us! Welcome back, Hogwarts. We missed you.”
The Hall clapped again and Dumbledore stepped down from the podium, replaced with McGonogall who had a pair of glasses on the tip of her nose and a no-nonsense frown.
“Alright,” she shouted, regaining control of the hall. “First years, the sorting will dictate which House you will be spending the next seven years of your time at Hogwarts in! Sortings are given by the Hat,” she held up a disgusting looking brown hat, “and you will sit with your table once sorted. There are absolutely no changes, and no complainers either. Your House will become your family and you will take great pride in it.”
Evan snickered beside Regulus and leaned over to whisper, “I’d be ashamed to be a Hufflepuff, personally.”
“Me too,” Regulus whispered back, eyeing everyone with distrust. “I’d be embarrassed to be anything other than a Slytherin.”
Gryffindor was the most well known house- classified as those with the bravest and most chivalrous hearts. Slytherins were cunning and ambitious- the entirety of Regulus’ family was a graduate of the Slytherin House. Hufflepuffs were kind and loyal, known as the biggest pushovers at Hogwarts. Ravenclaws were the smartest and wittiest students, known for their elitism complex and their terrible studying habits.
Evan grinned his million dollar smile and refocused on McGonogall who was going over name rules- alphabetical order, move quickly, we have loads of students!
“Alright,” McGonagall said finally. “Let the sorting commence!”
Every first year seemed to hold their breath as McGonogall looked over the parchment and shouted out Abbot, Elizabeth!
A scared looking blonde walked up to the stool and sat with straight back posture, staring straight ahead. The hat had been lowered on her head for not even a second before it shouted out a “Gryffindor!” and she bounded over to the roaring table.
It unfortunately moved very quickly after that.
Agnes Aggripa in Ravenclaw, Mary Allisdor in Gryffindor, Christopher Allderton in Hufflepuff.
McGonnogal held the hat against one hip and looked over the top of her glasses, shouting out “Bagnold, Joseph!”
A confident brown haired boy walked up to the podium and sprawled across the chair, his hair artfully messy and his posture relaxed. Regulus watched with awe filled eyes as the Hat seemed to think about him, Joseph’s eyebrows creasing with each second.
Finally, after nearly two minutes of bated breath, the Hat called out a sharp “Ravenclaw!”, and Regulus tracked as Joseph ripped it off his head and jogged over to the cheering table. McGonogall looked down at the paper and her mouth twitched into a smile as she looked up and shouted across the hall: “Black, Regulus.”
Regulus was either dramatic or the rest of Hogwarts was, because a hush seemed to fall over the Hall as he made his way up to the podium. His boots hit the marble floor in a way that made him yearn for his home and his momma.
The candlelight flickered across Regulus’ face as he sat on the wooden stool and tried to arrange himself in a way that didn’t look so practiced. McGonagall smiled at him reassuringly as she lowered the hat onto his curls.
It sort of smelled bad, and Regulus wrinkled his nose. The Hat hummed quietly, filling up his brain as he looked frantically for Sirius.
The scarred boy was elbowing Sirius’ arm and pointing at Regulus who smiled hopefully, looking for the slightest bit of reassurance in Sirius’ eyes. There was no such reassurance, and Sirius turned away to start dealing a game of cards for his three other mates.
Regulus’ eyes burned as the Hat began talking, filling his subconscious with a raspy voice. Mmm, another Black, I see.
Enough of this, Regulus told the hat sternly. I’d like to be put into Slytherin.
The hat seemed to chuckle. I’ve sorted every one of your family members since the formation of this school, child. The only one that wasn’t in Slytherin was your brother, Sirius-
I’m aware, Regulus interrupted the hat's dramatic monologue, rolling his eyes. Can we please speed up this process?
For your snark I should put you in Gryffindor, you know.
I’m not wanted there. I don’t want to be there.
The Hat hummed questioningly.
Please, Regulus pleaded, noticing the weird looks from those around him and that boy his brother ran to staring up with wide eyes. I need to be in Slytherin. He met Narcissa’s eyes, where she was bouncing up and down in her seat with an empty one saved next to her. He smiled sadly. Please.
Just a warning to heed, my child, once put into Houses you cannot escape. You cannot move, you cannot try to defy the will of your brothers and sisters. You will be a Slytherin until the day that you die, do you understand?
At least I’ll have brothers and sisters, Regulus thought, curling his fists by his side.
The Hat stopped humming abruptly and seemed to deflate a bit, shouting out a warbly “Slytherin!”
McGonogall took the hat off of Regulus’ head and knit her eyebrows together, smiling uneasily. “Go on,” she murmured, pointing to a roaring Slytherin table. “They’ve been waiting for you.”
Regulus squared his shoulders and walked over to the screaming table and stopped next to Narcissa, who stood up and swept him into a firm hug.
He breathed in the scent of her expensive perfume and his cheek pressed against her heavy diamond necklace as he fought the urge to cry, settling on wrapping his arms around her waist and drowning out the cheers.
Lucius slapped his back and Narcissa let him go, letting Lucius ruffle his hair and grin down at him. “Welcome home,” he said, slinging an arm around Narcissa.
“We’ve been waiting for you,” she added.
Regulus smiled weakly and let himself be swept into a cheering crowd, which only grew when a familiar looking boy was announced a Slytherin as well.
“We got Crouch!” Lucius shouted, throwing an arm around Regulus’ shoulders as well. “You’ve got Crouch, Reg!”
Regulus tried his best to look happy for his new house and shook hands with this Crouch that Lucius was shouting about, cramming in next to Narcissa and acting like he wasn’t melted into her side.
He could smell her hairspray, and he wasn’t hungry for dinner. He was tired.
He would be for a while.
xx
Narcissa’s cool fingers were pressed into Regulus’ temple as he leaned against her, exhausted and his plate full of uneaten food. His head was pounding with the shouts and the scraping of forks against plates.
Sorting night wasn’t even over, Dumbledore had stood to give his first speech of the year. Regulus desperately hoped it was his last, given how much it dragged on and how Narcissa rolled her eyes every few words.
Narcissa had wrapped Regulus up in a hug and leaned down, whispering with her pink lips.
“Are you alright, my darling? Are you sick?”
Regulus shook his head and leaned against her side, breathing in her expensive perfume and hairspray. “I’m fine, my head just hurts.”
“My poor baby,” she said, dropping a kiss into his hair. “We’ll be home soon.”
They were walking to the Slytherin dorms in a haphazard line, cutting through back corridors and ducking behind tapestries into stonework hallways. Narcissa and Lucius were on his right side and Evan on his left, rosy cheeked and full from dinner.
The entirety of the Slytherin house was lined up in a passageway, the walls covered with tapestries of epic battles and the ancient gods.
Lucius grinned at Narcissa before squeezing her hand and moving through the crowd, standing on top of a chair and cupping his hands around his mouth.
“What’s he doing?” Regulus asked softly, his eyes wide. Lucius could command a room with no words, just his sharp gaze and even sharper judgment that rolled off of him in waves. Regulus understood the power dynamic now, Narcissa commanded Lucius and Lucius commanded the world.
“He’s Head Boy,” Narcissa told him, her face glowing with pride. “You’ll see, just watch.”
“Alright, alright!” Lucius shouted, silencing the room with those two words. “Welcome back for another year, Slytherins!”
The room cheered and Narcissa clapped for him, grinning at Regulus.
“I’d love to give a warm welcome to all of our first years that joined us and let you all know that if you have any issues, concerns or complaints please find me or one of the other students wearing a Prefects badge to sort it out.”
“Lucius is Headboy,” Narcissa whispered, gesturing to the girl next to him. “That’s a prefect, see? She has the badge.”
Prefects are top students in their fifth year who were in charge of ensuring the younger students did what was required of them, such as meeting curfew or showing up for classes. Headboys and Headgirls are prefects that reach seventh year, becoming in charge of helping out the first years and handling any other severe challenges. Narcissa had become Headgirl her sixth year for reasons mysterious to Regulus, who knew that she was the first to do it.
“Narcissa is Headgirl,” Lucius continued, gesturing to her. “Any complaints should be fielded to me or her, any issues to the prefects. For our first years, boys rooms are through the archways and to the left, girls to the right! Any questions?”
One student raised their hand, a girl with raven black curls. “How do we get into the common room?”
“Good question,” Lucius said, gesturing to Naracissa again. “My love, would you like to explain?”
Narcissa walked up beside him and her heels clicked across the stone, everyone’s eyes tracking her with open mouths. She was the most beautiful Black, something that Regulus was constantly reminded of with throwaway comments and sleazy uncles at a dinner table.
“This is the entrance to the room,” she started, pointing to a large golden snake that was coiled in an archway. “To enter you must say the password, which is currently draconic cor.” She looked across the room and her pink lips curled up into a smile. “You will come to the snake,” she turned around and faced it, “offer it a greeting,” she said hello and bowed her head, “and then, and only then, will you tell it the password.”
The first years watched with open mouths as Narcissa told the golden snake the passcode and it seemed to wake up, blinking its eyes. It was folded together so that you could hardly see the inside of the common room, its head in the top left corner and his tail in the right bottom.
It couldn’t smile, it was magic, but Regulus was pretty sure it tried its hardest as it looked at Narcissa. She nodded at it as it slithered down, its heavy head dropping from the top and to a hole through the stone floor. It went down and its golden tail flicked, as if in a farewell, as Narcissa kept her head inclined.
“The snake will come back once you are through the doorway, and the password will be changed biweekly.” Narcissa walked into the room, tossing her hair over her shoulder as the first years all scampered behind her.
Regulus was at the end of the line and heard the gasps before he saw the room, his eyes widening with the sheer beauty of it.
There were almost no words to describe the room. Regulus would later write in his journal that it was an oxygen bubble in the middle of the lake, a safe haven from the outside world where you were neither human nor mer.
The walls were all made of glass, perfectly clear and not a single smudge on it. The lake stretched on for miles, as far as his eye could see, and encapsulated the entire room. The ceiling was a dome, stretching up into the water until he could nearly see the stars.
He let out all of the air in his body at once, running his hand over one of the many leather couches. They were worn in but not old, a fire roaring in the center of the room and the softest rug he’s ever felt under his foot. It was woven with the deepest greens and richest golds, stretching from wall to wall.
The candles flickered and the golden light caught in Evan’s hair as he turned in a circle, staring up at the sky. Regulus had to lean against a most likely priceless armchair to keep himself upright, a school of electric blue fish swimming past the room like it was completely normal.
He didn’t ever want to leave.
Lucius had walked over to a marble archway, one of the two exits from the room, seeming to float in the water. The hall was stone and stretched on forever, lined with overstuffed bookshelves and golden candles. Regulus could pass out.
“This is the hallway where your dorms will be located,” Lucius said, gesturing to the marble archway. “Boys to the left, girls to the right. Boys are not permitted into girls rooms under any circumstances, understood? I will find out.”
Narcissa raised her eyebrows with a mischievous smile, looking at the first years. “Welcome to your new home,” she said. “You’ll love it here, really.”
Everyone scampered off into the hallway to find their rooms, pushing and fighting and reuniting down the candles. Regulus walked to the center of the room and turned in a circle, his mouth wide open.
He noticed a shipwreck from the corner of his eye and gravitated to the window to look at it, staring with an open mouth as it seemed to glow from within. If he squinted hard enough he could almost imagine those who sank with the ship, the spirits of a young man and woman as they danced on the deck as it got sucked into the water.
It was the most beautiful place he’d ever been.
“It’s glorious, isn’t it?” Narcissa came up behind Regulus and kissed the top of his head affectionately, wrapping an arm around him. “I did exactly what you’re doing now the first time I saw it.”
“It’s beautiful,” Regulus whispered, stars in his eyes. “Cissa, I think it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“During the day the sunlight seems to filter through the lake, and it casts rainbows around the room,” Narcissa said excitedly.
“Really?”
“Yes! And you can see the giant squid float by-”
“There’s a giant squid?”
“There is!” Narcissa laughed, clear and bright. “It’s orange and definitely has more than eight arms. He waves to us sometimes, once he suctioned onto the glass for an entire week and wouldn’t leave.”
“What did you do?” Regulus asked, seeming like a child looking up to his mother. “Did you have to magic him off?”
“Oh, he left on his own, dear. That’s sort of what men do, too.”
Regulus giggled at her joke, feeling utterly beside himself with pure joy at being in such a beautiful space. The sorting hat had absolutely no idea what it was doing, trying to place him with his stupid brother. Sirius didn’t have a cool lake, that’s for sure.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” Narcissa said suddenly. “Regulus, you have no idea how much I wanted you to be sorted with me. I miss you every day that you’re gone.” She leaned down to pepper his face with kisses, ignoring him desperately trying to squirm away while still laughing. “And I will miss you every minute I don’t see you!”
“Cissa!” He shrieked and tried to squirm out of her embrace while still holding her tight. “Cissa, you’re going to get lipstick all over me!”
“I already did!”
They collapsed onto a couch and Lucius appeared through the archways, changed out of his suit and into a beat to hell Slytherin Quidditch hoodie and dirty sneakers. His eyes lit up at the sight of them as he walked over, his shoes creating dull thuds against the wooden floors.
“What are you two doing?” He asked, watching Narcissa hug Regulus closer. “Shouldn’t he be doing ridiculous icebreakers with his roommates?”
“Oh, don’t be no fun, Lucius. He’s just a boy.” Narcissa stuck out her tongue and Regulus nodded sagely, smiling as he fought against Lucius.
“I am just a boy,” he said, and sunk further into Narcissa’s arms. “I don’t want to meet my roommates.”
Narcissa and Lucius exchanged another look and Lucius sank onto the couch next to Regulus, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “They’ll become your best mates,” he promised, looking up at Narcissa as she nodded. “Hell, probably for life.”
“And you will have so much fun exploring the castle,” Narcissa said. “And you’ll eat all your meals together-”
“Play Quidditch together, everything! Don’t be afraid of them.” Lucius nodded and smiled at him. “If anything, they should be afraid of you. You are the King of the Slytherin’s, Regulus, we all are. They’ll all be scrambling to be your best mate, I promise.”
Regulus nodded, feeling oddly relieved at his certainty. Narcissa was smiling a smile that Regulus had never seen before, reaching out for Lucius.
“Oh, you come here, too!” She grabbed him and pulled him into a hug, ignoring what seemed to be a startled squawk as he tried to bat her off.
“Cissa!” He said, his weight crushing Regulus. “Cissa, no!”
“Oh, my boys,” she said, clutching them both with her arms. “Both of my boys, safe, right here with me.”
“Cissa,” they both groaned in unison, acting like they didn’t love every second of her affection.
She laughed at them and dropped kisses on both of their faces. “I love you two very, very much.”
“I love you too,” Regulus murmured.
“I love you, darling,” Lucius said, leaning over to kiss her.
She smiled into him and Regulus let out another startled shriek, trying to worm out from between them. “Stop it!” He shouted, pushing back. “Oh, it burns, my eyes burn!”
“Get out,” Narcissa complained, shoving him off. “Go to your room, goodnight!”
“Goodnight.” Regulus wrinkled his nose as he half ran across the floor, looking back to see Lucius’ arm slung around her shoulder as he laughed quietly at something she was saying. He looked at her like she was worth something, and Regulus hoped he could be worth something one day.
He waved shyly and they both waved back, Narcissa shouting at him to be nice and make friends. He promised himself he would, if nothing else than to make her happy, and made his way to his room.
His trunk was at the edge of his bed and Evan had already unpacked, hanging his clothes up in part of the closet.
“Hey, man,” Evan said, nodding slightly. “Is that bed okay? You weren't here so I just sort of… reserved it for you.”
Regulus’ lips curled up into a smile. “That’s nice, thank you. The bed is perfect.”
He and Evan made small talk as Regulus hung up his clothes and laid out the precious few books he brought from home, putting his favorite blanket on the bed and taking off his shoes.
“Hey, do you know who our other roommates are?” Regulus asked finally, looking around. Everyone was unpacked and one of the beds had drawn curtains, no sound coming from it. No one else seemed to be in the room.
“We’ve got the minister's son,” Evan started, counting on his fingers. “He’s still here, Barty Crouch.”
That sentence was a warning and Regulus picked up on it very quickly, don’t say anything stupid or he’ll catch you.
Regulus nodded at him. “That’s cool, I heard he’s a really nice guy.”
“He is,” Evan said, smiling. “We’ve got a Nott, I think his name is Eric, and a brunette named Kenneth Kama. I think he goes by Ken.”
Regulus nodded again and sat cross legged on his bed, facing Evan as he did the same. “Did they seem… cool? Like genuinely?”
“Kenneth was just odd,” Evan said, dropping his voice. “I remember hearing a story about a Kema, but it had to have taken place at least one hundred years ago.”
“What was the story?” Regulus asked, and Evan smiled. Regulus hated having to ask all the questions.
“There was this woman, yeah? She had a husband and only one child but was stolen from them both while under one of the unforgivables. It was a big deal, apparently, a bunch of new laws were made about using spells on other people, it was crazy.
“Hmm.” Regulus cocked his head and looked around the room, the beds that seemed small but were rather spacious once you sat down. The dark wooden bed posts and green curtains, the dressers and nightstands lining the walls. The same green and golden carpet was beneath his feet, and the sheets were soft. “I hope it’s good here,” he said quietly. “I really hope.”
“You’re the King of the Slytherins,” Evan said, laughing a bit. “Of course it’ll be good for you, you’re basically the heir to the entire house.”
It was the second time that someone had said that to him and Regulus still had almost no idea what it meant. He settled on nodding with a laugh, trying to act cooler than he was. He tried to think about how Lucius leaned back and seemed one hundred percent confident in anything he said.
“I guess you’re right,” Regulus said, leaning back on his forearms. “There’s really not much to worry about, huh?”
“No, you’ll be fine.” Evan wrapped his hair up in a funny looking hat and curled into his bed, already changed out of his nice clothes and into an old t-shirt that had a peeling butterfly on it. Regulus suspected it had to be a girl’s, the perfume was one he could smell even from here.
“I’m going to go to bed,” Regulus said finally, desperate to end the awkward silence. “I’ll see you for breakfast tomorrow.”
“Night,” Evan murmured, and closed the curtains. Regulus changed into an old, hand-me-down Slytherin Quidditch hoodie from Bellatrix that had their last name peeling on the back and he loved dearly.
Regulus curled up in his sheets and closed the curtain, trying not to feel too boxed in. He laid on his back and stared up at the bedposts, squinting at words carved in toward the top. He stood up to read them.
Orion Black, it read, and in smaller choppy handwriting underneath it: KING OF THE SLYTHERINS!
Oh. Regulus felt his stomach flip over as he furrowed his brows and squinted at the writing, bracing his hands on either side to put his face close to the words. If he closed his eyes he could still smell the whiskey on his fathers breath and the muted scent of his cologne.
Their faces were mirrors of one another’s, their cologne and their humor identical. Regulus had a scar on his shoulder blade and so did his father, both given as a punishment. Regulus’ on his right, Orion’s on his left.
They were the same.
Orion Black, King of the Slytherins. Regulus Black, his forever underwhelming successor.
He felt slightly sick to his stomach as he laid back down on his side so he didn’t have to read the words. He didn’t even choose the stupid bed.
He wished Kreacher were here so that they could share their days and secrets over a cup of tea like they always did, Kreacher ready with a soapy towel for any punishments that may have occurred or a warm blanket to ward off nightmares.
He just missed his home, where his room was the same one he was born in and the halls never changed and the steps never moved.
He closed his eyes and went to sleep.
—