The Preparations
Chapter 3:
September bled into October and before Regulus knew it, McGonnagall was standing in front of the class with a no-nonse set to her mouth and a thick stack of papers balanced on her hip.
“Partner up,” she called, her robes swishing at her ankles as she levitated each person in the room a stapled-together pile of inked on paper. “This is your semester long project, it will be due the Monday before Holiday break. I expect equal work from each person on this project, it will, ultimately, be a cumulative grade. Individuals will not be taken for consideration. Choose wisely.”
Regulus felt a heavy hand on his shoulder as Evan slid on the bench next to him, flashing a smile. “You’ll be my partner, won’t you, Regulus?” He asked innocently, blinking slowly. “Come on, we’ll do best together, you know that.”
Regulus weighed the options in his mind, the benefits for Barty or Evan. He couldn’t choose a fuck up and get a low grade, that’d simply tank not only his self worth but his grade as well.
Evan it was.
“Of course,” Regulus agreed readily, scooting over to allow Evan a spot next to him and offering him his textbook. “We’ll get started right away, correct?”
Barty’s nose flared as Regulus turned his back to him and bent his head over a packet with Evan. He scoffed and pushed away from the table rather dramatically, throwing his hair back with a swift shake of his head and stomping off to find a different partner. Regulus couldn’t find it in himself to care, he couldn’t tell if this was again being mean, or if it was simply acting in self interest.
If Evan was condoning it, it couldn’t be awful. He smiled at Evan and skimmed through the list of potential project topics, eventually settling on one, the ethics in manipulation of living organisms.
The thing with transfiguration was that Regulus was endlessly fascinated by it. He could spend hours sitting quietly in McGonnagall's classroom, swinging his feet and carefully paging through the textbook, asking questions and taking careful notes.
He was shit at it.
One hundred percent, pure cow, nothing in the world he could do to correct it, shit. He could rattle on about transfiguration theory for hours, about the difference between fundamental and surface changes, about the level of concentration needed for living versus stationary items. He even studied ethical transfiguration.
But when it came to casting the spells, it was like a spell-blocker was installed on the tip of his wand and simply no magic would come out. He had McGonagall check for one, as he believed one of his friends had installed it as some sort of practical joke, but there wasn’t one. He simply wasn’t good at it.
Regulus trained and practiced and kept a goblet under his pillow so that he could spell it before night, but when it came to casting spells under the watchful gaze of his professor, he could produce barely a spark. It had driven him to tears multiple times, but his friends weren’t aware of it, and McGonnogal had graciously allowed him multiple takes on tests to achieve the marks he wished.
“When is this due again?” Evan’s curious voice broke Regulus’ lamenting, and he blinked multiple times.
“Right before Christmas,” Regulus murmured. “Don’t we have astrology after this?”
“Yeah, we have it in five minutes.” Evan fell into a comfortable hum, twisting his quill in between his forefinger and middle finger. “We’re doing the leo constellation.”
“I already know everything about the Leo Constellation.”
“You already know everything about everything.”
Regulus cracked a smile and looked down at the textbook, jotting down an outline for the project. He hoped to have it finished before fall break, he didn’t trust himself to work hard enough in the winter to earn the grade he needed.
Evan slid the paper away from Regulus to jot down his own idea with a sheepish smile, sliding it back with a quick sorry.
He wouldn’t trade Evan for anyone else.
–
Barty sat down with a quick huff and kicked off his shoes, letting them roll and clatter across the dorm floor. Regulus sat down on his bed beside him, smiling sweetly.
“What’s got you all in a strop?” He asked quietly, kicking off his own boots with less of a flair and lining them up against Barty’s bed carefully. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothings wrong,” Barty said shortly, laying back on the bed and scrubbing the scruff on his jawline with one hand, the other tapping out on his jeans. “So you can go ahead and drop it.”
Regulus laughed. “Come on-”
“Drop it.”
Regulus blinked at him, wrinkling his nose. “Right,” he said. “I’ll drop it then.” He laid back next to Barty and threw his forearm across his face.
There was a beat of silence, then Barty took a breath. “What are you doing?”
“Dropping it.”
“You’re supposed to be my friend,” Barty finally hissed, like it physically pained him. “Not Evan’s, mine. That means you choose me for stupid fucking transfiguration projects.”
“I am your friend.”
“No, you’re not,” Barty said, turning over and curling away from Regulus.
Regulus huffed a laugh and set a hand on Barty’s shoulder, who was still staring up at the ceiling. “I’m your best friend.”
“It’s not funny,” Barty huffed.
“Don’t be in a strop,” Regulus whispered back. “It’s unbecoming, mate, come on.”
Barty let out a long, suffering sigh and turned back over, peering up at Regulus with dark brown eyes and shrugging sheepishly.
“I even asked.”
“I didn’t hear you,” Regulus told him, patting his knee. “Promise, mate, I would’ve been your partner over Evan’s.”
Barty turned back over and squinted at him, twiddling a loose thread from his jeans. “Do you mean that?”
“Course I do.” Regulus offered him a sheepish smile and sprung up from the bed, crossing to his bag. “Let’s do the charms work in the common room, don’t you think? I need to see Narcissa, anyway.”
Regulus and Barty shuffled out of their dorm and into the common room, a sight that still managed to steal Regulus’ breath after over a month of walking through it. It was just past two and the sun was still high in the sky, out to play until the stars stole it for the night.
They made their home on a worn-in couch beside the roaring fireplace, Barty instantly kicking off his shoes and tucking his feet against the cool leather. They spread out their notes between the two of them, Regulus chewing nervously on the end of his quill as he furrowed his brows at the latest assignment.
It was all flying. This past week, Professor Flitwick had been positively mad with it, running around the room and teaching a load of pre-teen boys and girls how to make- not only one another but one another’s things- float around in the air. Barty had nearly tortured poor Kenneth, hanging him up by the ceiling in the name of “good fun and practice”.
Regulus briefly worried Evan was going to strangle Barty in his sleep, but they all woke up the next morning with a pulse, so Regulus counted it as a success.
“Merlin,” Barty grumbled, scrubbing his jawline with one hand and twirling his wand in the other. “And fucking Morgana, I already know the spell.”
“It’s more than just the spell, I reckon,” Regulus said, already distracted. “We’ve got to focus on the- erm, what’s it again?” He scanned his notes once more. “Aero-dynamics, yeah?”
Barty pointedly yawned.
Flitwick had been drilling each of the students to understand how well something could float with the magic that was applied. Evan had learned it the hard way, how the misunderstanding of the weight can cause an object to shoot up. He broke a chandelier last week.
Regulus understood it like it was a fifth sense, how to move his wand, the familiar tug at his core that felt like returning home. He distinctly remembered Sirius teaching him at home, in front of the bathroom mirror and shielded from the watchful gaze of their mother, where Sirius’ shaking hand had guided his as he made their shampoo bottle sail around the room.
Evan couldn’t find the correct amount of magic to put behind each of his spells, at least not quite yet, and Regulus could understand when he wasn’t supposed to speak on an issue. He heard Evan at night, murmuring charms to himself with a candle burning behind his curtains, much like Regulus with his goblet.
But then there was Barty. Barty, who was so effortless with his magic, it was a miracle he still shows up to classes. Regulus was tactical where Barty was powerful, his magic simply rolled off of him in sharp waves. The scent of it burned Regulus’ nose if they were too close to one another.
“Earth to Regulus, earth to Regulus. Come on, mate.”
Regulus blinked and Barty offered him a grin, sprawled artfully across the couch. His wand was spinning endlessly, his thumb a blur just keeping it going, but it was like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. His eyes were focused entirely on Regulus.
“Your cousins here,” Barty said, nodding over to where Narcissa was leaning on one hip with her mouth firmly set. She furrowed her brow and said something, staring up at Lucius with a frown, before setting a hand on his chest and patting comfortingly.
Lucius seemed to relax entirely.
“It seems they’re fighting,” Regulus whispered, his eyes darting between Narcissa and Lucius anxiously. Lucius was now turning on a tall man that Regulus remembered from the train.
“Go see what they’re fighting about,” Barty whispered back, his eyes sparkling. Regulus, as though tugged along by a rope, found himself walking toward Narcissa quietly. She turned and caught his eye, grinning widely and abandoning the two arguing men quickly, throwing her arms around him.
“Oh, my love,” she cooed, kissing both of his cheeks. “How are you, darling? I’ve missed you so much these past weeks, where have you been? Off making friends, I hope. I see you hanging around the minister’s son, I hope you’re…” She trailed off suggestively, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“We’re… close,” Regulus confirmed, and Narcissa clapped her hands in happiness. “And, yes, I’ve made loads of friends, didn’t I tell you to stop worrying about me?”
“You know I’ll never stop worrying, Regulus.” Narcissa linked their pinkies and the two of them walked across the common room, back to Lucius’ side, who distractedly clapped Regulus’ shoulder and continued his rather heated conversation with the man from the train.
“That’s like I said,” Lucius hissed, looking rather pissed off. “If you had just listened to me when I told you-”
“Should we take this elsewhere?” The man asked, nervously twisting an unlit cigarette between two fingers. Lucius looked at him incredulously, glancing from the two of them back to the man.
“Excuse me?” Lucius drew himself up to his full height and the man shakily lit the cigarette, ducking his head down. Regulus realized how frightening Lucius was, how his six feet of height seemed to multiply as he gazed down at the man like he was worth nothing more than his spit. “How dare you assume my family isn’t to be trusted with-”
The man flicked his cigarette and a few ashes landed on Regulus’ pale hand. He gazed down at it in disgust before blinking innocently up to Narcissa, who’s eyes flashed. Regulus mimicked her posture, leaning on one hip and staring up as she did. “Yaxley,” she said slowly. “Why don’t you go work to fix your mistakes-”
“Your fuck ups,” Lucius seethed.
Narcissa placed a hand on his chest, still staring up at Yaxley. “And report back to us tomorrow. I am eagerly awaiting your solutions to the numerous issues you have placed ahead of us.”
“Eagerly.” Lucius set a hand in the hollow of Narcissa’s waist, nodding definitively. Yaxley audibly swallowed and shakily flicked the ash off of his cigarette, offering a small thank you to the pair and all but running for the door.
Lucius let out a deep sigh and turned back to the two Black’s that were eagerly awaiting his attention, dropping a kiss on Narcissa’s temple and placing a warm hand on Regulus’ shoulder.
“Merlin,” he muttered, and Narcissa let out a scoff that shocked Regulus to his core. She could be more frightening than Lucius when the situation called for it, and it made Regulus offer a brief prayer of gratitude that he was never on the receiving end of her wrath.
“Oh, lover,” Narcissa said sympathetically, trailing her thumb under his left eye. He let his eyelashes flutter shut as he leaned into her touch, his hand still trailing a circle on Regulus’ shoulder, his other fit in Narcissa’s waist.
Regulus closed his eyes and let himself feel at home in his family, knowing that they likely looked like one. He wished Sirius was here, to observe Regulus’ new family, to witness Regulus’ gaining of others. He didn’t need Sirius, he didn’t need his attention, his love, or his stupid friends.
“All right, then,” Narcissa said softly, her perfume wafting over to Regulus’ nose. It was sweet. “He has no idea what we’re on about, Lucius, we have to explain just a bit.”
Lucius looked down at Regulus and huffed a laugh, patting his shoulder. “Poor kid, you don’t know, do you?” Him and Narcissa looked at one another before staring back down at Regulus. “Why don’t we find somewhere a bit more private to talk, yeah? Darling, isn’t it nearly tea-time?”
Regulus positively glowed as he was led away by his cousin and her partner, offering Barty a shrug and pointing at the pair. Barty, who was observing the three of them carefully, offered him a sharp grin and leaned back on the couch. Regulus would catch up with him later.
He was led to the Great Hall where there were just a few students sitting at their respective tables, an assortment of pastries and teapots scattered throughout the room. Narcissa led the both of them to their usual spot, fixing each of them a plate.
“Well,” Lucius said heavily, pouring Narcissa a cup of tea and adding in one sugar and the lightest breath of milk, offering it to her with shaking hands. “Merlin, I’m positively furious with Yaxley, I don’t know if I can even-”
“Honey,” Narcissa interrupted. “Don’t be too hateful, love, we have little ears.” She nodded to Regulus who offered a smile. He was nearly afraid to speak in front of the couple, fearful of the consequences of being seen and not heard. He could practically hear his mother’s voice now.
“Are you familiar with Samhain, darling?” Narcissa slid Regulus a plate that was full to the brim with pastries and sliced peaches, his tea steaming in Lucius’ hand.
“The- erm-” Regulus cleared his throat, staring down at the plate. “That’s Halloween night, right?”
“The night of the witches,” Lucius told him, carefully tearing a croissant in half and spreading jam on it. “Also, the night where the veil between the human and spirit world is the thinnest. We can communicate with the dead, more specifically relatives, through the feast-”
“The dumb supper,” Narcissa supplied with a pink-lipped smile. “We invite the dead to join us at our feast and tell them the past year's news. The children,” she pinched Regulus’ cheek, “entertain them. Now that you’re here, with us, that will be part of your job.”
“I’m not a child any longer,” Regulus muttered, swatting her hand lightly. “And how do I… entertain a spirit?” He shivered at the thought, thoroughly appalled by the idea of talking to his relatives, dead or alive.
“You just have to play some games, kid, like… hopscotch.” Lucius offered him a smile and Regulus felt a hot flash of embarrassment crawl up his neck. Sirius is the only one that calls him kid, and he’s learned to hate it. He’s not a kid, not any longer, he wants to be taken seriously. He doesn’t want to play hopscotch for the spirits.
“Hopscotch,” Regulus said, cocking his eyebrow. Narcissa looked at him with a frown and he scrubbed his face with a hand, drinking half of his cup of tea in one sip. “Right. Okay, that’s fine, can I bring Barty?”
Lucius beamed. “Of course you can! Bring all of your roommates, if you want, I don’t know them all, but we’d love to have them.”
“I’d just like to bring Barty and Evan.” Regulus tore apart a piece of a croissant and ripped it to shreds distractedly. “I don’t care for the others.”
“Darling, eat,” Narcissa told him, plucking a new croissant off of the table and spreading jam on it. “I cannot watch you torment that poor plate of food any longer, it’s making me go mad.”
“Sorry.” Regulus looked up at Lucius. “So, why were you upset with Yaxley, if it’s just a night for a feast?”
“We have a few… family traditions,” Lucius said carefully, looking to Narcissa for approval. “Yaxley is a part of the sacred 28, you know, so all of us that reside here, at Hogwarts, have our own sort of rituals that we must participate in.”
“Like what?” Regulus asked earnestly. “Can’t I help? I’ll be so good, Lucius, you won’t even notice me, I swear it!”
Narcissa laughed and put a hand on Lucius’ shoulder, gazing at Regulus like he was the most perfect child she could conjure up. The thought of it made him feel warm at his core. “Oh, lover, he wants to help. Can’t he help?”
“You know kids can’t typically-” Lucius looked down at Regulus, who pouted, and Narcissa, who did the same. He closed his eyes and put a fist in front of his mouth as though begging the Gods to give him the strength of rejecting the two. “You can help with one thing,” he said finally, and Regulus began bouncing eagerly in his seat. “Just the one, alright? Don’t go snooping in things you shouldn’t, though, do you understand me?”
“Yes, perfectly. I understand you perfectly.” Regulus caught Narcissa’s eye and grinned.
Narcissa ducked her head with a smile at Regulus’ excitement. “Are you going to have him help with the festival?”
“Sort of.” Lucius cocked his head at Regulus and squinted, finally grinning and leaning over to ruffle his hair. “Alright, kid, the day of Samhain, or Halloween, we wake up ridiculously early to decorate.”
“Oh,” Narcissa said, before leaning across the table to capture Regulus’ hands. “Oh, you’re with me! How lovely!”
“Narcissa obviously knows more than I do,” Lucius told Regulus, bowing his head down. “She’ll keep you in line. I need to run, my darling, I’m terribly sorry.”
“Oh, don’t be.” Narcissa accepted a gentle peck on the lips from Lucius before smearing away her lipstick from his lips with her thumb, smiling sweetly. “You look so handsome, lover, where are you off to?”
“I’ve got that… meeting. With Severus. Remember?”
Narcissa’s eyes flashed, just barely, but both Regulus and Lucius could instantly tell that she was displeased. Regulus ducked his head down and tore off a piece of the croissant to eat, knowing that if he didn’t she’d be angry with him, and Lucius picked up her wrist and pressed a kiss to it.
“But, afterwards, I do have a bit of a present for you,” Lucius said. “It’s rather small, darling, but I just couldn’t help myself than bring it-”
“Oh, you spoil me,” Narcissa said playfully, letting him shower her forearm with kisses. “Alright, go have your meeting with Severus, do tell him I say hello. Will Mulciber be there?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Bellatrix as well?”
“Unfortunately not.”
Narcissa cracked a smile and Lucius took that as his permission to leave, pressing one final kiss to her temple and turning on a heel to exit the Great Hall. She turned back to Regulus who was busy forcing half a croissant down, his stomach twisting.
“All right,” she chirped, clapping her hands lightly. “Now, honey, when I tell you this, you mustn't tell a single soul, all right? It’s just to stay in our family, understood?”
“I understand,” Regulus told her, pouring himself another cup of tea. “I won’t tell anyone.”
“Good,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Let’s begin.”
–
“Barty!” Regulus kicked open the door to their dorm room and took it in, raising an eyebrow at Kenneth. He froze in place and Regulus continued in, kicking aside a pile of books carelessly before looking back at him.
“I’m here!” Barty shouted, opening the curtains and smiling at him. He was sprawled across his bed, ribbons floating in the air above it, his wand spinning once again in his hands. Regulus grinned back.
“I have to tell you something.” He glanced back at Kenneth, cocking his brow once more. “What are you still doing here? Can’t you tell I’m trying to have a conversation?”
“I- I mean- it’s my dorm room as well…” Kenneth muttered, kicking the ground lightly. “I think I can stay-”
Barty laughed cruelly. “I don’t recall asking, mate, go on. We’ll let you know when you can come back.”
“But-”
Barty pushed himself up in the bed and opened his mouth in surprise, his wand finally setting steadily in his hand as he pointed it lazily at Kenneth. One would have missed it, missed the tip of it glowing just a bit, Kenneth’s eyes frosting in fear.
“I’ll be going,” Kenneth said quietly.
“That’s what I thought,” Barty called, spelling the door to slam behind Kenneth. He looked over to Regulus and laid back on the bed, flicking his wand and causing a ribbon to sail through and fasten in his hair.
“Poor Kenneth,” Regulus commented as he kicked off his shoes and crawled into Barty’s bed. “You know, one day we’ll wake up and he’ll have killed himself over the course of the night.”
Barty barked a laugh and plucked the ribbon out of Regulus’ hair, tying it into a sloppy bow and setting it back onto Regulus’ curls. “He’d be doing us all a bloody favor with that, huh? Tired of hearing him weep every night.” Barty’s voice went up a few notches and he let out a whine in a mock of Kenneth. “Eughh, I hate being a Slytherin, god forbid I speak to my dorm mates.”
“He speaks to Evan.”
“Reckon they’re some queers?”
“Oh, one hundred percent, mate.”
Barty laughed again and flicked his wand carelessly, a bright red ball sailing into his hands. He began tossing it up and down. “What’d you want to tell me? You seemed pretty eager until someone-”
“Oh, right!” Regulus hit his forearm excitedly and sunk into the mattress, putting his arms behind his head and watching Barty’s face as he tossed the ball. “Okay, so I was talking to Cissa, right?”
“Oh, please tell me what she and Lucius were fighting about. Please. I desperately need to know.”
“They weren’t fighting,” Regulus told him. “They never fight, not Cissa and Lucius. They’re madly in love.”
Barty let out a fart noise and Regulus collapsed into giggles, covering his mouth with one hand. “Oh, come on, mate. They have to fight. All couples that are madly in love fight, that’s just the facts.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Come on, don’t you read all those sappy romance novels? They always fight, but always stay together. That’s just how the world works.” Barty threw the ball across the room and it sailed right back into his palm without him using a wand. Regulus was astounded, but chose to say nothing.
“Right, well, they were all ganging up on Yaxley-”
“Who’s Yaxley?” Barty asked, his eyebrows pinched. “I don’t know who anyone in this goddamn castle is, mate, it makes me proper mad.”
“Yaxley isn’t someone to know,” Regulus told him simply. “He’s a nobody. Don’t worry about it.”
Barty smiled at him and put his chin in his elbows to gaze up at Regulus. “Well, do go on, I’m interested now.”
“So, Narcissa and I have to wake up early on Halloween to prepare for this festival. We have to find a spot for the bonfire and set it up, and we have to find a bunch of turnips to carve. We also make loads of jack o lanterns and garlands to hang around the common room.”
“Cool,” Barty breathed. “Let me help, yeah?”
“I- I don’t know.” Regulus blushed and looked down at his palms. “Narcissa told me to keep it a secret, so I can’t-”
Barty’s face fell and Regulus grinned at him, patting his shoulder. “All right, mate, I convinced Cissa to let us go to the festival together.”
“Did she not want me there?” Barty asked, his cheeks pink. “Is it because it’s a family thing? I don’t… I won’t tell my dad, whatever happens. I’m not that type of person.”
“I know you’re not,” Regulus whispered.
“Can you just tell her? I don’t want her to think I can’t be trusted.” Barty pointedly avoided eye contact with Regulus and instead picked at a loose thread on his blanket. “I won’t come if she doesn’t want me to.”
“Of course she wants you there,” Regulus told him, clutching his hand. “She’s positively tickled that the two of us are friends.”
“Is it because I’m the minister’s son?”
“No,” Regulus lied. “She thinks you’re polite.”
“It’s because I didn’t practically bury my face in her chest like Eric did.”
Regulus laughed and twisted their ankles together on the bed, resting his chin on his wrists, smiling in a way that he hasn’t managed since Sirius left home. “We celebrate the day before Halloween. That way we can still go for the feast.” He stuck out his hand and Barty took it hesitantly, still looking upset. “You’ll come decorate with us, right?”
Barty paused for a moment, his hand shaking, before swallowing and smiling. “Can I?”
“Of course,” Regulus said softly. “Come with us, Barty.”
Barty crawled up beside him on the bed and they faced one another, completely silent. Two parentheses enclosing the heavy space between them, two best friends that were learning how to be just that to one another. Regulus needed Barty like darkness always needed light, one couldn’t exist without the other, the two would cease to exist without one another.
If Regulus was darkness, Barty would be his light. And, sometimes, Barty is the darkness and Regulus is his light.
As if he could hear what Regulus was thinking, Barty smiled again, a rare smile that was only flashed to Regulus, like he was special.
“You think so much,” Barty said quietly. “What are you thinking so hard about, anyway?”
“The herbology homework,” Regulus said.
“Fucking herbology.” Barty flipped onto his back and groaned, his sandy blonde hair falling dramatically around his face. “Hey, once you’re finished, will you let me copy it? Please?” He blinked and stuck out his bottom lip.
“Of course.”
Barty grinned gently. “This is why you’re my best mate, you know.”
“I know.”
–
“What even is the fucking point?”
Evan threw his head down into his arms and groaned dramatically, his curls bouncing around his shoulders in the soft light of the windows. He and Regulus had been in the library for ages, sorting through piles and piles of textbooks and opinion pieces.
“It’s alright,” Regulus said, patting his shoulder. “We’re going to find it eventually.”
It was over halfway through October, the pale sunlight filtering through the castle and allowing a certain sort of darkness to seep into Regulus’ bones. Halloween was in a week and a half and Samhain was even sooner, something Regulus had been entirely too excited to participate in with his cousin.
Him and Evan were still in the research phase of their project, something that made Evan want to toss the textbook- and himself- out of the window. Regulus never quite minded it, not really, and Narcissa had secured him a slip to access the forbidden section of the library.
The forbidden section was an endlessly fascinating place to Regulus and he was determined to use the same slip from Narcissa to read every book in the shelves by the end of seventh year. A pass to it had to be given by a professor for a specific purpose, but no one would stop Regulus, not with his cousins still in the castle.
Him and Evan were knee deep in a stack of dusty textbooks that Regulus had gotten for them, coughing the entire way back to their table, and Evan had climbed on top of the table and crossed his legs in the past two hours. Regulus laid his cheek against the cool wood of the table and blew out a long-suffering breath, his hand cramping from the sheer amount of notes he was taking and his head pounding.
“Do you reckon Francis Bones was correct?” Evan’s voice floated over the table from where he had ditched a book and was now fully sprawled over top, his hand resting over his stomach and the other cushioning his head. “I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? The theory that if you transfigure an inanimate object to a living creature, it has no brain particles and therefore does not have the ability to protest any experiments done on it?”
“But it has to have brain particles,” Regulus said, frustrated. “If I transformed your goblet to a… mouse, I could say, it would still have the ability to run around and get itself out of danger.”
“But we are the creators,” Evan told him hotly. “We can do whatever we-”
“But that’s just playing God,” Regulus countered. “We’re not the creator of anything. It’s a goblet that turned into a mouse. It doesn’t make sense.”
“We are the creators.”
“We did not create the goblet.”
“But we created the fucking mouse.”
“If it’s created out of the substance of a goblet that we didn’t create, we didn’t create anything. We transfigured it. That’s why it’s called transfiguration class, not fucking creation class!”
Evan opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “That… makes sense,” he conceded quietly. “Right, so fuck Francis Bones, we can scrap out her research.” He shoved all of her textbooks off of the table and into the chair next to it, lying back down. “Okay, what about-”
“Wait, I’ve got it!” Regulus nearly shouted it out, jumping up from his chair and bounding off to the J section.
“What is it?” Evan called out, rolling off the table and following in suit.
“Lawrence Jones, it’s Lawrence Jones.”
“Of course it fucking is,” Evan huffed, finally piling into a small alcove with Regulus.
“Boys,” the librarian hissed, holding a finger to her lips. “Merlin, what do you two think you’re doing?”
“Sorry,” Regulus offered distractedly, scaling the bookshelf and tugging down a book that was thicker than his arm. It landed with a harsh bump and Regulus jumped after it, staring down at the page it had opened to.
The theory of evolution applied to the transfiguration of living mammals.
Evan fell to his knees and nearly hugged the book, lugging it back to the table with Regulus in tow. The two boys poured over the page, Regulus chewing anxiously on the tip of his quill, his mind working at twice the pace it typically was.
Evan finally turned over on the table, the tip of his quill just a blur in the air, his brow pinched in the corner. Regulus followed suit, uncapping a fresh ink pot with his teeth and smoothing the parchment down with his elbow. They sat in silence for at least half an hour, scribbling pages upon pages of notes and quotes.
The sun had filtered to near darkness by the time Evan looked up and yawned largely, covering his mouth and stretching his back. Regulus looked up and cleared his throat, a foul taste in his mouth, and met Evan’s eyes.
“Do you reckon we’re good for the night?” Evan asked, his voice gravelly. “Let’s just take the book back to the dorm and work on it Monday, yeah? I’m tired, it’s nearly dinner time.”
Regulus nodded and stood up, his back cracking with a large pop! that made him and Evan laugh. Regulus took the pages, blowing carefully over the fresh ink, and stacked them up to put into his bag. Evan lifted the book with a grunt, staggering under the weight of it, and nearly threw it on the librarian’s desk before blinking up at her innocently.
“I’d like to check this one out, please,” he said, his voice the model of what a modern day angel sounds like.
The librarian looked between him and Regulus, who offered her an equally angel-like smile, before letting out a heavy sigh and staring down at the pair of them. “What do you two have with,” she squinted at the cover, “Lawrence Jones?”
“An interest,” Evan told her, looking bored. “Or, a project. Which one will allow us to take it with us?”
The librarian glared down at the pair, who smiled once more, before flipping the cover of the book and paging to the back. “Name?” She asked.
“Regulus Black,” Regulus said, standing on his tiptoes. “Thank you!”
The librarian rolled her eyes and stamped the book.
–
Regulus was sitting in a field, the wind chilling his sweater-clad arms and tickling the grass around him. He laid back, twirling a blade of it between his fingers and closing his eyes.
He rather liked his quiet life.
When he finally opened up his eyes in the darkness of the field, he could see every star in the galaxy right above him. He grinned as he stared up at it, he could find his mother, his cousins, his brother. He could see the shapes in his mind, of the mighty Hercules, of the majestic lion, the two mothers known as Cassiopa and Andromeda.
Regulus wished Narcissa was a star, so that he could point her out to everyone he met. That’s my older cousin, he’d say, so remarkably proud that she was in the stars. She’s the coolest person I know.
But, his brother is in the sky as well. When he was younger and making friends, they’d lie in the back field of Regulus’ manor, Kreacher having prepared them a blanket and warm food. Regulus would raise his little hand up to the sky, pointing out everyone he knew, saving the best for last. That’s Sirius’ star, he’d say finally, grinning at his friend. He’s the brightest star in the galaxy, isn’t that cool? He’s also the furthest away, but I reckon that's just because he doesn’t like our cousins much.
He could locate it now, usually quicker than his own star. When he was little he thought the North Star and Sirius’ just had to be the same, because Sirius’ was the brightest in the sky, and Regulus never quite understood where the North Star was. He’d hear stories about people lost and following the North Star and would roll his eyes, knowing that if he was lost he’d find Sirius’ and it would guide him right to him.
He blinked up at the sky, and when he opened his eyes once again, there were three full moons above his head. One was full, shining brightly, one was a new moon, and the other was what seemed to be an eclipse, pure black with white light shining around the edge.
Regulus blinked, rubbing his eyes with two fists, before looking back up at them. He looked around, nothing else seemed out of the ordinary, the trees were still at the edge of the field and the grass was still the slightly prickly but soft grass that grew in the back garden, the wind was still chilly and blowing his curls from side to side.
He sat up hesitantly, steadying himself with a pale arm on the grass, and looked around once more.
“... Sirius?” He called, turning around. The grass was turning damp and was spreading around the bottom of his jeans, his sneakers turning a light green on the edge. “Sirius!”
He was shouting, now, jumping up and turning in a circle. He couldn’t bring himself to step, to run forward, to go find Sirius himself and drag him out by his ridiculously long hair.
“Sirius, come look!” He shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. “I’m frightened, you have to come see!”
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” A soft female voice came from behind Regulus, speaking lightly and carefully. “Come on, love, no reason to be frightened.”
Regulus turned around slowly, feeling incredibly tense, meeting Narcissa’s eyes fearfully. He nearly melted to the ground, his knees folding, sitting heavily on the ground. He looked up to her affectionate face, and found himself having to wipe tears from the steady stream going down her face.
“You know an eclipse is supposed to come in June?” Narcissa asked, leaning back on the ground as her hair splayed around the grass. The dark brown, the platinum streaks that had sprouted when she was four and never left.
“I… didn’t,” Regulus replied, his voice cracking as he wiped his face. “How come this happened to me?”
Narcissa’s face twisted sympathetically and Regulus found himself having to look away, shutting his eyes and covering them with his forearm, letting out a weak cry.
“It wouldn’t happen to you if you couldn’t survive it,” she told him, reaching out a hand and grabbing his shoulder. It hurt, it was too harsh, and Regulus twisted away from it instinctively, hiding his face.
“I want Sirius.”
“Regulus,” Narcissa said. She repeated it, over and over, her hand going tighter and tighter around his arm. “Regulus, Regulus, Regulus.”
“Stop,” he said weakly, trying to twist free of her grasp. “Please, stop.”
“Regulus!”
Regulus sat up with a gasp, a hand still grasping his shoulder. Once his vision finally focused he found himself in his bed, secure in the four posts, and the room just barely letting light flicker in from the morning sun.
He looked over and saw Barty sat beside him, his face concerned as he anxiously worried his bottom lip between his teeth. They stared at one another, Regulus silently daring him to say something, until Barty curled up with a sigh and grasped Regulus’ hand lightly.
“I was already awake,” he said, refusing to meet Regulus’ eyes. “I just… heard you mumbling, really, until you started shouting for Sirius.”
Regulus shut his eyes tightly, his face burning with the shame of allowing himself to want so desperately and publicly.
“I didn’t want anyone else to hear,” Barty explained, rubbing his thumb in circles on Regulus’ hand soothingly. “I cast a silencing spell and just… crawled in to wake you up.”
“Thanks,” Regulus said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat, feeling oddly relieved with Barty’s presence. He’d never seen him so gentle, like something was really important to him, until he was holding Regulus’ hand with a certain sort of meaningfulness that was not lost on Regulus.
“Anytime.” The boys were silent for a moment, their hands spread lazily on top of the blanket, Barty’s eyes searching his face anxiously. Finally, after a few tense moments of silence, he took a breath. “Do… do you, I dunno, want to… talk about it, or something?”
Regulus shook his head, feeling so incredibly fragile in a way that he hasn’t since Sirius never wrote home, before nodding slowly and taking a shuddering breath. “I just don’t know,” he said shakily, his face screwing up in pain. He covered it with his hand and felt more tears leaking out of his eyes, feeling so massively embarrassed and vulnerable, but Barty never let go of his hand and never, not even once, cracked a smile.
“It’s alright,” he murmured, his body somehow warming up the entirety of Regulus’ bed. “Hey, look, it’s alright, yeah? I’m here, I promise.”
“It’s so embarrassing.” Regulus wiped his face, feeling his cheeks become impossibly more red, and refused to meet Barty’s eyes.
“No, it’s not, it’s not embarrassing at all.” Barty scooted closer, seeming so serious in a way that Regulus had never seen him before. “Do you want to hear something embarrassing about me? I have loads, it’ll even out, I promise.”
Regulus looked up at him expectantly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Go on,” he whispered. “I do want to hear something embarrassing about you.”
Barty paused, seemingly having not expected Regulus to agree so readily, and thought really hard.
Regulus laughed despite himself, the absolute seriousness on his friend’s face over an embarrassing memory having him nearly beside himself. Barty looked down and laughed too, clutching Regulus’ hand tighter.
“Okay, I have one,” he said finally, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re going to love this one, Reg, I practically want to off myself just thinking about it.”
Regulus laughed again. “Please, tell me.”
“Alright, so, when I was a kid, yeah? My family, we threw these huge Christmas parties every year. I’m talking at least three hundred people, all crammed into our house, which, granted, is also pretty huge.”
Regulus nodded encouragingly and Barty continued on, his face turning red. “And, when I was a kid, I just practically begged for attention, you know-”
“Not much has changed,” Regulus muttered.
“Hey,” Barty said, attempting to be offended. “Anyway, one year, I climbed on top of the grand piano and began an acapella rendition of Hey Jude, which is from a muggle band that wrote it all about talking a girl into banging their friend!”
Regulus folded over in the bed and wheezed out a laugh, holding his stomach with one hand and clutching Barty’s with the other. “No you did not,” he said, covering his mouth from the delighted laughs that were coming out.
“Oh, yes, I did. And, I even got into all of the nasty parts-” Regulus nearly screamed, tears forming in his eyes from the laughter, and Barty laughed lightly at Regulus’ hysterical state. “I mean, who let six year old me tell a poor man to go and find her and ‘get under her skin’?”
“No,” Regulus breathed out, feeling dangerously close to pissing his pants. “Oh, Barty, that’s so bad, you win! You win!”
Barty fist pumped and Regulus felt like his lungs were collapsing from how hard he was laughing at him, at his pleased facial expression and the burning red cheeks that gave away how traumatizing this really was for him.
“And,” Barty said, and Regulus lost it once more.
“Don’t tell me there’s more,” he said, delighted with the story, and Barty just nodded solemnly.
“There’s so much more,” he told him, cracking a smile. “Well, my dad didn’t stop me until halfway through the song, you know, I think he was just so shocked at his six year old singing it with such striking vocals, he couldn’t bear to pluck all the joy from the party by removing me-”
Regulus wheezed, clutching his stomach. “Stop.”
“So, I jumped down from the piano, still with this stupid bloody microphone, and found this poor woman to serenade-”
This time Regulus really did scream, muffling it with the sleeve of his jumper, the tears spilling out of his eyes as he clutched Barty hysterically. Barty laughed, clutching him back, breathlessly continuing the story.
“But I’m at least a foot and a half shorter than her, you know, because I was six. So I change all of the words to fit her, telling her that I found her and I want her under my skin-”
“No!”
“Unfortunately,” Barty said seriously, watching Regulus’ unbridled joy with gleeful eyes. “And my dad comes marching in and plucks the microphone from me, fucking whacking me in the head with it, despite the fact I was providing free entertainment!”
“What an awful thing to do to you,” Regulus said, and Barty shook his head sadly.
“Merlin, it was so fucked, you don’t even know.” Barty grinned at him sharply, running his hands through his loose, blonde hair and reaching out like he wanted to wipe Regulus’ face for him, before ultimately deciding against it and hugging his chest. “You alright, mate?”
“I’m alright,” Regulus whispered, and, for once, wasn’t lying. He sort of felt like he and Barty lived in the gaps of the world, when it was just the two of them, before and after the big, life-changing and all encompassing events. They didn’t need to talk about it, not really, they needed to talk about anything other than the worst.
“Tomorrow’s Samhain,” Barty said quietly. “You should seriously get some sleep, mate.”
Regulus shook his head, sitting up. “Let’s just go to the common room, yeah? Or, if you need to go back to bed, I feel awful for waking you up-”
“Don’t be dumb,” Barty told him, rolling his eyes. “You’d do the same. Let’s go.” He rolled out of the bed, stretching out his back and tracking as Regulus did the same. The two boys slipped out of the room and down the hallway, toward their bubble in the lake, quietly knocking shoulders as they went.
–
Regulus blinked at Barty as they brushed their teeth, both of their eyes dead and their cheeks flushed. They had woken up just minutes prior, Regulus’ hair tangled atrociously and his pajama pants twisted around his ankles, a testament to the good sleep that he had just been tugged from.
Narcissa had ripped open their curtains and patted them each on their cheek, quietly informing them that it was time to go and that the decorations for Samhain waited for no man. Regulus jolted back from his cousin, furrowing his brow and rushing out girls can’t be in here!
Narcissa had laughed, pressing a kiss to two fingers and popping them on Regulus’ temple. Barty grunted sleepily, turning over and telling Regulus to shut up, and had thrown himself out of bed and onto the floor with a groan. Narcissa left and Regulus did the same, following Barty to the bathroom sleepily, where he was now taking a brush to his nearly matted curls and scowling.
Barty squinted at him blearily, leaning down to spit out the blue toothpaste and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t be angry,” he said tiredly. “This is our first festival, mate, we have to-”
“I’m not angry,” Regulus said angrily. “Just tired, and I wish I had time for a shower.”
Barty flicked his wand to Regulus distractedly, now leaning forward to inspect a new spot on his face with shocking intensity. Regulus’ hair fixed itself, the curls becoming silky and clean, falling perfectly around his forehead and the tips of his ears.
“... Oh,” Regulus mumbled, setting down the hairbrush. “I didn’t think of that, obviously, thanks.”
Barty waved his hand, wrinkling his nose at the spot before setting his hand on top of it and closing his eyes. In a quick flash, Barty removed his hand and the spot was gone, his skin unblemished and leaving no indication there was ever an issue.
Regulus was just astounded by Barty’s sheer power of magic. He never even needed spells, not really, he just thought about what he wanted to happen and put the intention behind it. It made him quite scary, honestly, Regulus never knew what was about to come from a casual flick of his hand.
The two boys set off down the hallway, Barty pulling a thick, knitted sweater over his head and letting out a loud sigh. “Merlin,” he grumbled. “I want a tea, don’t you?”
He blinked up at Regulus, a small smile on his lips, his hair intentionally messy and ruffled in the early morning light. “I… do,” Regulus allowed. “But, we don’t have time to go get one before-”
“I’ll go!” Barty took off in a run, leaving Regulus baffled in the common room. He watched Barty slip out of the door, his eyebrow furrowed, before turning back to Narcissa who was laughing at the two.
“You know,” she said, still laughing, “I did make the two of you tea.”
“Merlin,” Regulus said, rubbing his forehead and accepting the cup of steaming tea gratefully. “Let me drink them before he comes back, he’ll be so upset if I already have one.”
“Alright, drink and walk, my love, we have quite a bit to attend to.” Narcissa took off, her heels clicking on the stone, her perfectly curled hair bouncing with each step. Regulus wondered if she magicked it on, just waving her hand over her hair and walking out of the door, or if she had to spend hours each morning making herself beautiful.
“Okay,” Narcissa said, smiling softly as Regulus drank the entire cup of tea in one gulp, a bit dripping onto his shirt. “The two of you are responsible for carving each of the turnips, alright?”
Regulus bounced excitedly, feeling much more awake and ready to seize the day, as Narcissa chirped when Regulus groaned in a zombie-like way. “Thank you for convincing Lucius to let us help,” he said, hugging Narcissa quickly.
She was shocked, he never hugged her, and she clutched his curls with one hand and his shoulder with another, sinking into it. “Oh, you’re alright, sweetheart. You know I wouldn’t want to do it without you.”
Regulus leaned back, his cheeks pink, before standing on his tip-toes and pressing a quick kiss to Narcissa’s cheek. “Thank you,” he mumbled again. “Seriously.”
She smiled at him, looking so incredibly fond that it made Regulus’ chest hurt, before patting his cheek quickly. “Right, well, off you pop! We need fifty of these turnips in two hours, but more if possible. I carved two already so you boys would know what to do.”
“Thanks, Cissa.” Regulus paused, looking down at his feet. “And, thank you for letting Barty come.”
“Oh, you know I love that boy. So polite, such a good connection, I’m so pleased the two of you are so close.” Narcissa leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Regulus turned on a heel and made a home on the floor, flipping out a pocket knife and cutting two eyes into a comically large turnip.
As Narcissa walked away, Barty came running up, three cups of nearly overflowing teas balanced precariously in his hands. He caught Narcissa by the arm and handed her one, breathlessly explaining that he didn’t know how she liked her tea so he just put one sugar in it and how grateful he was that she allowed him to come and he wouldn’t let her down.
Narcissa smiled politely at his ramble, baffled as to why this poor boy was talking so quickly, before patting his shoulder and walking away.
Barty turned to Regulus, his face beet red, holding out his tea with a shaking hand. “I- I don’t think she likes me,” Barty said, worrying his lip between his teeth.
“You’re being silly,” Regulus told him gently. He gratefully took the tea, handing Barty a turnip with a silver knife with a smile. “She’s so pleased you’re here, don’t worry.”
Barty began to carve out eyes, shockingly talented with a knife, and Regulus ducked his head down to do his own. They sat like that in silence, throwing their turnips into their respective piles for at least an hour. Barty had shifted so that he was lying on his stomach, flipping the knife between two fingers carelessly as he thought about the next design.
Regulus finally threw aside a turnip and laid next to Barty, resting his chin on his forearm and looking over at him closely. “Is it everything you hoped it would be?” He asked, kicking his feet in the air.
Barty looked over at him, unimpressed, before cracking a smile and shaking his head. “No, it’s- it’s fine. I wouldn’t want you to do it by yourself.”
“You’re a softie,” Regulus teased. “Hey, at least both of us are covered in bloody turnip juice. It makes my skin crawl-”
Before Regulus could stop him, Barty grinned widely and shoved his hands into Regulus’ hair. He shrieked, trying to beat him away, hearing Barty positively roar with laughter at Regulus’ horrified screams and weak punches.
“I just did my hair,” Regulus groaned, feeling the curls stick to his fingers. “Oh, you dick.”
Barty was still laughing, turned on his back and clutching his stomach. Regulus reached over and gave him one more slap for good measure, right on his forearm, which only made Barty laugh harder.
“You should’ve seen your face,” Barty wheezed finally. “You looked so scared-”
“Because I was being attacked-”
“It’s juice!” Barty laughed again, tears welling up in his eyes, clutching his ribs with one hand. “Oh, Merlin, I’ll never-”
“What on earth are you two doing?”
Regulus froze and blinked up to where Narcissa was hovering over his head, her mouth set. Barty scrambled to his feet, the tips of his ears turning red, and Regulus just offered her a smile.
“Come on, Cissa,” he said, sitting up and turning to face her. “We’re nearly done, we were just-”
“I’m not going to allow your friend to come help us anymore if you two refuse to focus,” she told him, her mouth a thin line. Regulus blinked, startled by her stern voice, and Barty kicked the toe of his shoe into the ground. “Also,” she continued, looking pissed in a way that he had never seen before, “you two aren’t done with the turnips. I just got down talking to Lucius, telling him how hard you two are working and how splendid it is you brought your friend, but I guess I made a mistake!”
Barty looked about ready to piss his pants as he rushed out an apology, spinning his knife in his hands. “I’m so sorry, Narcissa,” he said quietly. “It was all my fault, though, Regulus was trying to focus-”
“I believe that,” Narcissa said coldly. “Finish the turnips. Now.”
Barty dropped to the floor and began carving out faces with rapid speed, his face set in concentration and still bright red, glancing fearfully up at the two cousins before returning to work. Narcissa gave Regulus a look, turning on her heel and walking away quickly.
“Hey, wait,” Regulus called, racing after her. “Why are you so angry with me?”
Narcissa kept walking, ignoring her smaller cousin running behind her, until finally turning around and facing him with raised eyebrows.
Regulus stopped quickly, slightly out of breath, and wiped his shaky hands on his jeans. “Cissa,” he said softly, feeling small under her judgemental gaze. “Cissa, why are you upset with us? We were only messing around for a few minutes, I swear, I- we didn’t-”
He felt tears pricking his eyes, willing them to go away, but Narcissa had never been upset with him before, and he was so confused on what he did to deserve it. Her face softened at his clear distress and she gathered him up in her arms, letting him breathe out gently over her shoulder, his heart rate finally slowing to a normal pace.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” she said finally, still holding him. “I’m just upset, we’re running behind schedule, and Yaxley still managed to, excuse my language, entirely fuck up my entire morning!”
Regulus looked back at her, shocked to find tears welling up in her eyes, and found himself standing on his tiptoes to let her bury her face into his shoulder. “Do you want me to kill him?” He offered, feeling her shake with laughter.
“I just really dislike him,” she sniffled, and Regulus rubbed her back in the way she always did for him. “Just- it’s just so unfair. And I can’t tell Lucius, because then he’ll probably actually kill him, and I don’t have time for that.”
“I’m sorry.”
Narcissa sniffled again, fanning her face with a perfectly manicured hand, sighing loudly. “You don’t need to be sorry, darling, it’s not your fault.”
“Still,” Regulus said.
She blew her cheeks up with air, resembling a puffer-fish for a brief moment, before letting it all out and patting his cheek gently. “Go tell you friend I’m sorry for shouting at him, the poor boy has been staring this entire time.”
Regulus glanced behind him to where Barty met his gaze with wide eyes, looking between him and Narcissa fearfully before dropping his gaze to the floor. Regulus laughed, turning back to Narcissa. “He thinks you hate him, Cissa.”
“I don’t hate him,” Narcissa said, offended. “I don’t hate.”
“It’s a good think I do,” Regulus told her. “I can hate Yaxley for you, if you’d like.”
Narcissa laughed and pressed a kiss into his hair. “You do that.” She stopped for a moment, glaring at Regulus, before twisting one of his curls between two of her fingers. “Oh, darling, your hair is sticky. Go shower. Now.”
Regulus groaned, shooting a look at Barty, who looked terrified. “Aren’t we behind schedule? I don’t think I should-”
“Regulus Black.” Narcissa raised an eyebrow at him. She jerked her head to the door, crossing her arms, looking slightly disgusted. “Go.”
Regulus hung his head and walked back to Barty, delivering a swift kick to his knees. “I have to go shower,” he hissed. “Or Cissa will kill me.”
Barty snorted, already finished with the turnips. “Okay, I’ll go hang out with your cousin.” He got up and nearly skipped off, Regulus flipping him off uselessly.
“She said she dislikes you,” he shouted.
“That’s nothing I can’t change,” Barty chirped, winking at him before turning the corner.
Regulus went to the shower, making sure he scrubbed his hair intensely, knowing that if it weren’t up to her standards Narcissa would make him do it again.