Fight For Me

Tech Week is perhaps one of the best and worst experiences of Regulus' year, which isn't unusual. Its routine. It happens every year and he forces his friends to endure his extensive complaining(when he isn't forbidden from using his voice) until they all shout at him every time he even thinks about speaking. He loves it all the same. It's one of his favourite parts of doing theatre. The absolute chaos as everything everyone has worked so hard to acheive comes together, starting out as utter dogshit and quickly becoming something magical. This time is better than all the years previous because not only is he staring in a musical he loves in a gender affirming way, he's surrounded by his friends - both new and old - that he(reluctantly) loves, his brother who he can actually have a conversation with and the world's best boyfriend.

James is...better. He hasn't relapsed since they got together and he isn't actively collecting things that could contribute to his death. He's started therapy(though it took many hours of convincing to have him even consider the thought) and it seems to be helping. His smile is starting to become more common again, except this time, it's genuine instead of a mask he slips on at every possible opportunity. He laughs, he jokes, he cries, he frowns, he spends hours just- staring at a wall. He's better, but he isn't anywhere near the level where Regulus feels safe leaving him near sharp objects unattended. Tech Week sure isn't the most helpful environment and Regulus has spent nights curled up in James' bed desperately trying to convince him that his smallest little slip ups didn't make Minerva, Flitwick, the cast, the orchestra and the crew hate him. Regulus is proud of him nonetheless. So, unbelievably proud of him.

That being said, he most definately did not appreciate extra stress being pilled ontop of his shoulders by a single, measly text message.

Maman

I will arrive home in time to see your last show. Don't disappoint me, Regina.

He was so caught up in actually enjoying his life for the first time since Sirius left that he forgot. He was stupid and naïve enough to believe a world without his mother breathing down his neck and forcing her unreachable expectations down his throat existed. But, unfortunately, Walburga had only been out of town for a few months to film her newest movie. She was coming back, always was coming back. Regulus did not live by himself, he actually had a mother. A mother who is going to be beyond furious when she returns to see her perfect, golden daughter replaced with him.

This is bad. Very, very bad.

How could he have ever possibly believed he could live as himself? He played adult for a few months, played the role of a boy and now his fantasy was about to come crashing down. He should've never cut off his hair, never changed his name, never splurged on an entirely new wardrobe, never came out. It would've made everything so much easier if he had kept himself locked inside that stupid fucking closet, never to see the light of day.

Instead of heading to the cafeteria like he did everyday for lunch, Regulus made an abrupt U-turn in his course and found himself nearly knocking the door to Minerva's office off it's hinges.

Her conversation with her wife, Poppy Pomfery, came to an immediate halt. Poppy stared at him, eyebrows raised in surprise while Minerva's expression showed nothing but concern. Regulus never entered without a knock, never inturrupted her so abruptly, so rudely that his mother would've backhanded him across the face if she had witnessed it. Minerva knew him far too well to not notice something was clearly wrong. Regulus didn't doubt that even Poppy could tell, that his carefully crafted indifferent facade was wavering under the weight of his trembling hands and unshed tears.

"I'm sorry, my dear, we'll have to continue this conversation later." Minvera said. Poppy didn't try to argue, simply slipping out of the wide open door and shutting it as she left.

"Maman bought a ticket." Regulus blurted before Minvera could say anything.

Minerva hummed. "She doesn't know you transitioned."

"She doesn't." Regulus confirmed, beginning to pace.

"And now your panicking because it was a decision you made and said that dealing with the concequences would be a future Regulus problem except future Regulus is here and you're wondering whether or not you made the right choice."

"Exactly that, yes."

"Are you happy?"

"Not at the current moment."

Minerva gave him a deadpanned stare. "Are you happier now, dressing, looking, acting and being who you are or were you happier before?"

"Now," Regulus answered immediately. "Without a shadow of a doubt."

"Then wouldn't you say you made the right choice?"

"For me, possibly. For Maman? For the future and betterment of the House of Black? Absolutely not."

"What your mother and family believe is right does not matter. For a decision such as this, it is your feelings and thoughts alone that determine whether or not this path was correct."

"What am I supposed to do? Maman is going to kill me."

Regulus did not like the way that possibility didn't seem too far off.

"She won't, Reg."

"How do you know? You've never met Maman. You don't understand the true extent of what she's like."

"All I know has come from you, and a comment from your sibling here and there. I'd argue that your perspectives are most true."

"If my view of Maman is what you see, you should understand my fear."

"I see it, I understand it, but it will not happen. I will not let it."

"No offense, Minnie, but how are you supposed to stop her?"

Minerva was quiet for a moment, tapping her fingers on her elbows. "Do you want to leave the House of Black, Regulus?"

That made him pause, freezing in the middle of the room and staring at Minerva with eyes wide enough to rival James' deer-in-headlights stare. "Do I want to...leave the House of Black? Like how Sirius did?"

"Like how Sirius did," Minerva confirmed. "But without whatever happened that forced her to leave."

"But- how?"

"I'll help you."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"You'd have to come forward about your experiences. Sirius, too, if we really want to ensure your safety. Then you'd need another family to take you in."

"By another family...do you mean you?"

"And Poppy. If that's something you'd be interested in."

Regulus's arms went boneless and his bag dropped to the floor. He let himself fall into a chair, mind scrambling to process. Minerva wanted to adopt him? To legally be his mother. To take him away from Maman, from Regina, from suffocating standards and a family that lives up to the darkness of its name. To give him a place he doesn't feel terrified in, where he doesn't have to hold his breath with every sentence, doesn't have to worry about what concequences he might face if he uses the wrong fork, doesn't have to ever touch a skirt again unless he wants to. Minerva wanted to burden herself with his baggage, so heavy Regulus doubted he'd ever be able to free himself from its strings, so complex not even he knew its full extent. How could he ever ask someone to help him carry it? There wasn't any point. Its weight was immense, far too much to move. It had implanted itself into the ground, weaving rotting, thorned roots through the House of Black. He'd never be able to leave, no matter how hard he tried, despite the hands that came to his aid. Maman would always find a way to drag her precious daughter back. He was unsaveable.

"I can't ask you to do that."

"You aren't. I'm offering. Look at me, Regulus," against his will, Regulus found his eyes gravitating towards Minerva's. "I am asking because I care about you, I care for your safety and I want to help you. I know I can. Let me. I cannot bare to see you suffer because of your mother's wishes."

Could it be possible? Minerva is not unreasonable. She's intelligent, thoughtful, wise and is never wrong. If she truly believed Regulus was someone worth saving, that she could free him from his mother's insistent demands then maybe-

His mother's insistent demands.

The musical.

"Oh no," Regulus said, heart pounding a mile a minute. "Oh no, oh no, oh no."

Minerva frowned. "Reg? What is it?"

"Maman wanted me to be the lead female role. I don't play a lead female role! Oh no. She's going to kill me. She might actually kill me."

"If she wanted to, this would not be a valid reason."

"What do you mean?!" Regulus cried. His leg bounced, a pesky habit he thought he'd conditioned himself not to do years ago, and he dug his hands in his hair, tugging on dark curls.

"With the way the musical is set up, with every part played by any gender the actor desires, there is no such thing as a lead 'female' role. The role conforms to whatever gender the actor feels most comfortable playing. Would you be more comfortable playing Vincent or Veronica Sawyer?"

"Vincent." Regulus mumbled. He pressed his forehead to his knee and tried to make sense of everything happening in his head, in his body, in this conversation. Maman couldn't kill him for this. She probably would, but it would be for a false reason and- why the fuck did his chest hurt so bad?

Minerva abruptly stood up and walked to sit in the chair next to him. She gently pried his hands from his hair and brought one to her chest, setting it against her heart. He could feel the rhythmic beats pounding against his palm and the way Minvera's chest expanded with each exaggerated breath. "Breathe, Regulus."

"I'm trying!" He cried, attempting for force his heaving breaths to match Minerva's.

She hummed and rubbed circles into the back of his hand. "I know. You can do it."

It took a while but eventually, Regulus' breathing evened out into something normal. It wasn't the first time this had happened and it was nowhere near the worst. Regulus doubted it would be the last. It might not even be the last of this week. The shows were near, in only a few days time their rendition of Heathers would be available for view. And shortly after that promised the return of Maman.

"I would like it."

Minerva raised a brow.

"Help. Leaving. Please."

Minerva's lip quirked into a smile. A soft, pleased, proud thing Regulus had never seen directed at him before. Or any other student, for that matter. It made heat rush to his cheeks for a reason he couldn't understand. "I'll go about starting the precedure, then."

"There you are!"

Regulus turned around. James walked out of the library, a concerned furrow present between his brows. He caught up rather quickly(as Regulus wasn't moving) and grasped his hands. "Where'd you go? Are you alright?"

Regulus blinked at him. "I went to see Minnie. Of course, I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?"

James gave him a scrutinizing stare. "Y'know, that's typically my line. I can understand why people don't like being on the recieving end of it. I know you, love. You've been picking at your nails all day," James held up one of his hands for emphasis and, sure enough, his cuticles were nearly bleeding. "You’re anxious. Is it the show? Something else? What can I do?"

"There's no hiding anything from you, is there?" Regulus asked, an amused and slightly awed smile on his face.

James grinned back at him, not nearly as big as it would've been a few months ago but Regulus was happy to see it nonetheless. "Not many people are well versed in the Language of Regulus but I've done my studying and now, I'm fluent."

Regulus snorted. "The only thing you've ever studied for."

James gasped in mock offence, clutching his non-existant pearls. "Excuse you, I study!"

"Name one course you've studied for."

"Families in Canada."

"That's one of your psych courses, right?"

"My only psych course. We've got intro to psych but that's a grade eleven course and I took it already." James corrected with a shrug.

Regulus couldn't help but giggle, putting on a stereotypical nerdy accent and raising a finger in the air. "Um, actually-"

James rolled his eyes and shoved him, sending Regulus stumbling a few steps away as he cackled. "You think you're so funny, don't you?"

Regulus shrugged and flashed him a grin. "Occasionally."

James shook his head with an exhausted sigh. "You never told me what was up."

Regulus' mood sombered instantly and he scowled. "Maman's coming home in a few days."

James let the silence hang between them for a moment. "Come live with me."

Regulus' eyes widened. What is it with people today? It is national adopt your (boy)friend day or something? "Huh?"

"Come live with me. Like how Sirius did. We have more than enough space, y'know. You'd get to know my parents, you'd see more of me, we could have a sleepover literally every night, you'd be free." James rambled, gesturing with his hands while he spoke at speeds Regulus wouldn't have been able to understand a few weeks ago.

"Baby, as nice as that sounds, I would murder my brother. And it would technically make your parents my parents and it's weird enough that I'm dating my brother's brother who isn't my brother."

James' face scruntched up in disgust at the thought. "But what about your mother? Surely you don't want to stay at Grimmauld, do you?"

"Minnie already offered to help."

James gaped at him. "Minnie wants to adopt you? The same Minerva McGonagall who gave me detention for doing the worm during rehersal? That- actually, y'know what? I can see that. Minnie loves you. When did this happen?"

"About twenty minutes ago. I knew she liked me more than most of her other students but I didn't think she liked me enough to adopt me." Regulus admitted.

James took his hands in his again. "You, Regulus Black, are the very definition of amazing. Minnie adores the very breath you breathe. You could flip someone off and say, like, every slur known to man and she'd look at you with pride. Anyone would be lucky to call you their son, but it just so happens to be that no one, absolutely no one, wants to be that person more than Minerva McGonagall."

Strangely, Regulus felt tears rush to his eyes. Typically, he can rein his emotions in with the control of an experienced equestrian riding their lifelong companion. He can grab hold of whatever emotion is causing the dastardly optical reaction and strangle it into submission, bury it beneath layers of compartmentalization, trap it away like you would a fairytale damsel. But, for some reason, he couldn't pinpoint what the fuck was happening and his tears were persistent, pushing past is attempts to subdue them until they were passing down his cheeks in relentless rivers of something.

"Do you really think so?" Regulus asked, voice wavering.

"Oh, love." James whispered, dragging him forward and into a tight embrace. "Of course, I do. I wouldn't lie to you about something like this."

"I would hope you wouldn't lie to me at all." Regulus said, face pressed against James' neck.

James sighed and squeezed him tighter. "And I hope that someday, that is a promise I can make."

Regulus pulled back and smiled up at him. "You'll get there. I believe in you."

James dipped down and dragged him into a kiss. Regulus happily melted into him. It catches him by surprise sometimes, still, that this is something he can do, that a soul as special as James' found solace in a ugly, twisted spirit such as his. He doesn't understand how they came to be but he's so, unbelievably glad that it's brought him to where he is. Regulus doesn't appreciate life often, but it's starting to happen more as of late.

"Fags!"

They part quickly, head snapping towards the sound. Mulciber stood at the end of the hallway, cackling as he slipped into the stairwell that leads to the school's basement. James scowled, a vicious glare upon his face that Regulus is honestly proud of. He shouted "fuck off!" after him before looking back down at his boyfriend. "Sorry, love. We probably shouldn't have done that...here." he gestured around them.

A small smile ticked at Regulus' lips. "I'm not too mad about that, if I'm honest. He can't be homophobic and transphobic at the same time. If he's calling me a fag, then he's accepted I'm more than just a pussy he wanted to bang."

"That is one way of looking at the situation, yes," James said. "If it works for you, then so be it."

Regulus smiled and linked James' fingers with his. "It does. Wanna come to The Three Broomsticks with me?"

James grinned. "Always."

Regulus might vomit. He might genuinely vomit.

He stood backstage, surrounded by bustling stage hands, cast and crew members. He can hear the orchestra tuning and gathering audience members on the otherside of the curtain. He's dressed down, his iconic Sawyer blue suit buried under a heavy, hot jacket and other layers of drab clothing he can't even remember anymore. His fingers are bleeding, his nails non-existant. His hands are sweating, he can't control it. Lines frantically run themselves through his brain and he's tempted to do more vocal warm ups, dispite the many he did earlier.

His fellow cast members aren't faring much better, exept for maybe Xenophilius and Pandora, who seem as nonchalant as ever. Sirius is pacing, adjusting their skirt every few steps and Regulus can vaguely hear the mumbled words they're muttering under their breath. Dorcas has touched up her make-up three times in the past ten minutes and Marlene keeps unbuttoning and re-buttoning her suit jacket. Barty, Evan, Peter and Mary are passing around a flask. Remus is silently panicking in the corner and Lily has been staring at the same wall for only God knows how long. Frank listening to some song with heavy enough bass for Regulus to feel it. And next to Regulus, James is subconciously flapping his hands nervously. Every time he notices what he's doing, he forces himself to stop, only to start up again not too long afterwards.

It’s finally here. Everything they’ve worked towards the past couple of months - the countless hours of singing, dancing, memorizing, practicing, rehearsing- have all lead to this very moment:

Opening night.

“Alright, everyone, listen up!” Minerva said, clapping her hands to gather everyone’s attention. Immediately, every cast member fell quiet. There was still the shuffle and scramble of stage hands and tech students running around, pulling together the final details before showtime, but otherwise, all was silent.

“It has been an absolute honour to work and guide each and every one of you these past few months. All of you have put in tremendous effort, worked so hard to create something these people will remember. I am proud of your dedication and determination and you should be, too. Tonight, our version of Heathers will be shown and I want to see you prove to that audience that you deserve to be on that stage, that you worked to get here. This is your show. Let them know it. Do not let your nerves get in the way of your performance. I have seen what you all can do and I promise you, you will all do wonderfully. Break a leg. I’ll be cheering you on from back here.”

Regulus felt like he was going to cry. James already was, frantically wiping tears away before they fell as to not ruin his make-up. It was nice to know he wasn’t the only one.

He could do this. He wouldn’t be a fucking lizard. Not now.

The show was brilliant. It was far from perfect but it was fun, exhilarating, satisfying. Listening to the crowd respond with the songs, the dialogue, the way they had brought the script to life was rewarding. It always was. It was one of the reasons Regulus loved theatre so much.

The second was better. They weren’t as nervous, they knew how the crowd would react, were more confident in themselves, didn’t make the same little mistakes they had done the night before.

The third was the best. The show was flawless and Regulus had never felt better. He could tell that his friends all felt the same.

The fourth and final show, however, Regulus couldn’t think of anything besides the fact that his mother was somewhere in the crowd. Knowing her, she would be in the front row and as close to the centre of the stage as possible. Regulus could never be more grateful that the blinding spotlights blocked his view of the audience. It eased his mind the slightest bit. Not by much, but it was better than nothing.

While most of the cast was getting sentimental, mourning their last show(Pandora had been non-stop crying the past little bit), Regulus sat by himself in the corner, knees tucked up under his chin and hands in his hair, rocking back in forth in a desperate attempt to calm his pounding heart.

Sirius kneeled in front of him. "Reggie? What's up?"

"Maman is here tonight."

Sirius' face went stoney. "Nothing's going to happen to you, okay? Tomorrow, McGonagall said she's going to start the adoption process and soon, you'll be out of there. She can't hurt you. If anything, anything at all, happens, or seems like it's going to happen, you call me, okay? I'll be at the door in less than five minutes. You could come stay with James and I until things are finalized. It's going to be alright."

Regulus tried to take a deep breath but it stuttered, catching along the rungs of his ribcage and scratching his lungs. He shook his head, throwing it back until it thumped against the wall. "I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this. I can't fucking do this. I'm such a fucking lizard."

Sirius blinked. "I- uh- you're not a lizard, whatever that means."

"I am, I am, I am-"

"No! No, you're not. You're, uh...a phoenix! Yeah, that's what you are."

Regulus paused and finally met their eyes. "Huh? A phoenix?"

"Yeah! Because you're- um, brave and stuff. Super brave! You came out, despite that wrench's wishes and best efforts to snuff who you are. You've lived as yourself for the past several months and have finally found your happiness. You need to protect it. Don't let her ruin everything for you."

"...I'm pretty sure phoenixes represent rebirth and shit but I appreciate the sentiment."

"Here," Sirius stood up and held out her hand. Regulus took it and he was dragged to his feet. "I can go look in the crowd for you and find her, if that'll ease your mind."

"I don't think I want to know exactly where she is. I already have a general idea but...if you could just keep an eye on her, that would be great."

Sirius grinned and pat his shoulder. "That I can do. Don't over thnk it, Reggie. You'll do great. You always do."

Regulus gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Sirius."

Inevitably, it was time for Regulus to take his place on stage. The lights dimmed, and Regulus took a deep breath.

"September first, nineteen-eighty-nine. Dear diary-"

The final show was the best of them all. There was no hiccups whatsoever. It was bitter sweet. Everything was done. Everything they had been working on since September was over. He would have free time again but now, he wouldn't have an excuse to sing and dance and hang out with his friends everyday.

Sirius had told him during intermission that Walburga had left, presumably during Dead Guy Walking. Regulus couldn't care less. He forgot his mother was in attendance by the time the first number had ended.

He stood with his cast mates, his friends, as they took their bows, smiling, laughing, celebrating, crying. They danced around on stage while the audience clapped, whistled, roared with praise, singing Seventeen(Reprise). And just before the curtain dropped, James grabbed him by the waist, grinning despite the tears racing down his cheeks, and pulled him into a kiss.

Yeah. He'd be alright.