It's The Goddamn Fight of My Life
So yeah, it's a war
It's the goddamn fight of my life
And you started it
November 1st, 1976
Waking up the following morning isn’t as painful for Regulus as it was the night prior. He’s still healing, but the wounds are slowly stitching themself together and the potions are aiding in him attaining at least some semblance of comfort.
He gets about fifteen seconds of reprieve before the events of last night come rushing back to him. His eyes pop open, the morning light of the infirmary blinding him.
“Fuck,” He whispers to himself, looking down at the bandages that wrap his torso, “I’m so fucked.”
Snape. Dumbledore. His parents. It’s like the holy trinity that Muggles talk about, but in some universe where that trinity is definitively unholy.
He shifts against the mattress, testing the level of discomfort caused by movement. When he tries to sit up, he winces, hissing in pain. As he does so, he clenches his fists, only to realize that there’s a small piece of parchment in one of them.
He opens his fist, carefully takes the crumpled piece of paper, and unfolds it. It has four words written across it. Regulus immediately knows who it’s from, despite the lack of a signature.
I love you too.
A thrill goes through Regulus as he reads the words. James. Leaving notes again, even when Regulus is on his deathbed. This note… Regulus wants to fall back into old habits and tell himself that James only wrote this because he almost died and felt like he had to, but Regulus isn’t one to lie to himself. James isn’t one to lie at all. He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it so it shouldn’t even come as a surprise. James Potter has more love to go around than anyone Regulus has ever met. Why wouldn’t some of it be devoted to him, after the time they’ve been spending together?
Regulus bites down a smile, closing his hand around the note again. He’s going to have to do something with this one, enchant it so it doesn’t get wet or burn, or maybe sew it into his robes if he’s feeling particularly possessive. But is it possessive, really, Regulus wonders, to have a love and want to hold onto it, cherish it, protect it? He doesn’t know. What he does know is that he’s never going to be able to let this go, what’s happening between the two of them, and it might just lead to his downfall. He’ll let it if that’s what it takes.
“Good morning, dear,” Madame Pomfrey says, bustling into the room and startling Regulus slightly. He grasps James’ letter tight in his hand, doing his best not to crumple it too badly, “Happy to see you awake. It’s only 6:45, but your parents are scheduled to arrive around 7:30.”
“Alright,” Regulus responds, his voice hoarse.
It’s not like there’s much else to say. Dumbledore already told him that seeing his parents wasn’t up to him, due to the legal implications because of his age. Also, Regulus does want to see them, a little bit. Not because they’ll bring him any comfort or say the right thing, but because he misses them to some extent. He misses having them around, even if it was hard. They’re his mum and dad. He doesn’t know life without them, not really.
“Would you like some breakfast before they get in? I wasn’t sure if you’d want to eat this early, but I can call for the House Elves to bring something up.”
Regulus’ stomach churns at the mere thought of food and he shakes his head no, “I’m okay for now, but thank you, Madame Pomfrey.”
She smiles at him fondly, her eyes a bit tight, “You’re just like Remus, you are. Quiet and so polite, even when you’re hurting.”
Regulus does his best not to grimace at that. It’s not that he doesn’t like Remus, he’s honestly the most tolerable of his brother’s friends outside of James. It’s just that, well, he doesn’t really want to be compared to anyone, especially not his brother’s friend.
Madame Pomfrey leaves, and Regulus sits with himself for a moment before he remembers what Snape was saying last night, about Remus. If Snape meant what he implied, that Remus is a werewolf... Regulus knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that if Remus truly is a werewolf, there’s no possibility that he was involved in the attacks last night. There’s not a chance in hell that Sirius or James were involved either, but either way, Remus being a werewolf is serious. If Regulus was worried about people finding out about him and James, he can’t imagine how Remus feels keeping a secret like that.
Another thing that Regulus can’t quite string together is how James and Sirius seem to join Remus on those nights when he falls ill. Humans can’t be around werewolves, wizards or not, without getting killed.
He’s in the process of trying to work out ways that James and Sirius could be with Remus during a full moon, aside from being werewolves themselves, when he hears the familiar sound of heeled boots clicking against the floor. He freezes in places, listening.
“Well, where is he? We’ve waited long enough.”
His mother is here. Regulus knew she was coming, but he didn’t realize how afraid he would be once she got there. He considers pretending to be asleep, but he knows that wouldn’t work. If Madame Pomfrey was willing to wake him up for Dumbledore, there’s no chance she wouldn’t wake Regulus up for his parents.
“He’s right this way, Walburga,” Madame Pomfrey says, her voice clipped.
Regulus braces himself as the sound of their footprints approach his bed, and does something he hasn’t had to do in a long time.
He takes a deep breath in and closes his eyes, clearing his mind. In his head, he imagines a bookshelf, much like the one in the Room of Requirement. Each shelf holds a book or journal, each labeled vaguely. Many of them are open, their pages rustling and showing memories of Regulus’ that he holds dear, but leave him vulnerable. He works quickly to close them and arranges them on the shelves. Some of the volumes put up more resistance than others, but eventually, they all shut.
“Regulus, dear, can you hear me?”
When Regulus opens his eyes, he registers that Madame Pomfrey is there, her hand pushing back his hair again. Unlike last night, it doesn’t bring tears to his eyes. Rather, he feels nothing. Isn’t reminded of anything.
“Take your hands off of my son,” Walburga hisses, her sharp blue eyes narrowed into slits at Madame Pomfrey.
Madame Pomfrey quickly retracts her hand and mumbles something to Regulus, but he can’t hear her right now. He’s focused on his mother.
She looks the same as always does: regal dress robes and dark hair pulled into an elegant updo. Her features seem more severe than he remembered, with arched eyebrows and high cheekbones. He forgot how much she resembles Sirius. A book on one of his shelves trembles, but doesn’t open.
“Mother,” He greets, his voice flat and bordering on cold.
“Regulus,” Walburga says, surveying him, “Who did this to you? Have they been punished?”
“I’m not sure.”
She makes a noise of disapproval, “How could you have let this happen to you? Do you know how this makes you look? Our family? How weak you seem?”
Weak. The word echoes through Regulus’ head like a track left on repeat. He feels himself waver, but he doesn’t allow it.
“Yes, mother,” Regulus responds, raising his chin, “I’m sorry.”
Her mouth remains a firm line, but her eyes seem to soften slightly. Regulus doesn’t fall for it, remaining guarded within his mind.
“It’s alright, Regulus,” She tells him, sitting down in the chair beside his bed, “I am glad to see you again. Your father and I have missed you.”
Again, a book trembles. This time, it’s one with a little prince on the cover.
“Where is father?”
His mother purses her lips, “He’s speaking with Professor Slughorn. Dumbledore wasn’t available to speak with us and what would be done about this.”
Regulus can hear the anger in her voice, and honestly, he doesn’t blame her. Any parent would expect to speak to their child’s headmaster after something like this happened. He did almost die, after all. However, Regulus knows it’s likely she isn’t upset because he’s her son, but because pure, magical blood was spilled as a result of it. The Black line, in her eyes, would have ended with Regulus if he had died last night.
He doesn’t respond, instead giving her a short nod.
“Will you come home for the Christmas holidays, Regulus?”
“No, mother,” He responds, devoid of emotion. A boy with glasses and messy hair and a wide smile flashes through his mind. He slams that book closed.
“And why not?” Her voice has lost any ounce of softness now, the hard edge he’s so accustomed to returning with ease.
“It’s O.W.L.s,” Regulus hears himself say, “I need to stay at school and study.”
“You’ve always been so dedicated to your studies, Regulus,” His mother purrs, seemingly satisfied by his answer, “Unlike, Sirius. Undeniably clever, but never one to apply himself.”
Regulus doesn’t say anything. Even in the fog of his mind right now, he resists the urge to tell his mother that isn’t true. Bites his tongue when pages on another book shutter, making him want to tell her that he knows that Sirius brought home 10 O.W.L.s. He knows because he was there, at the Potter’s kitchen table, when Sirius received his exam results. That book cannot be opened.
Silence stretches between the two of them, and Regulus stares down at his hands which are resting against the white sheets of the infirmary. His left hand is closed into a tight fist around the parchment and his knuckles are even whiter than the rest of his skin because of the tension. He looks up to see his mother watching him closely.
“Have you spoken to Sirius recently, Regulus?” Her voice is quiet, and Regulus can’t tell what emotions it holds, if any. Maybe she’s arranging a bookshelf of her own.
“We speak occasionally,” Regulus admits, his voice steady, “We aren’t in the same classes so I don’t see him very often.” This isn’t technically a lie. Even if it was, it’s best to tell Walburga what she wants to hear.
“And the Potter boy? Do you speak to him?”
The bookshelf in his mind rattles and he knows she trying to get in. He moves quickly, taking the book she wants most and moving it to a different shelf, behind others.
“The same,” Regulus lies, “Occasionally.” Somehow James doesn’t flash through his mind again. Somehow, his mother isn’t able to see memories of James and Regulus with their mouths pressed against each other. She doesn’t hear the whispers they’ve passed between each other in the Room of Requirement, limbs tangled together. He doesn’t know what would happen if she did.
“Mon chou,” A voice calls, pulling Regulus out of his fog a bit, “Oh, Regulus, my boy.”
Regulus looks up from his hands and sees his father standing at the foot of his bed, a wide smile on his face.
“Papa,” Regulus breathes. His father looks much the same as well and Regulus relishes in it, the familiarity and the warmth of it.
“Are you okay, Regulus? You feel well?”
“I’m okay, papa,” Regulus assures him. The book with the little prince on the cover is in danger of opening. Better that one than others, though. He doesn’t make a concerted effort to keep that one closed.
“Did you speak to Dumbledore, Orion?” His mother asks, and her voice is sharp again. Close to as sharp as it gets.
“No, Walburga,” Orion answers, the smile on his face quickly fading, “He’s unavailable, as we were both told when we arrived.”
“Useless,” Walburga scoffs, rising from her seat and pacing, “This school is pathetic, truly. Do they not realize who we are? What would have been lost?”
Neither Orion nor Regulus speaks. There’s no use in it when she’s like this. There’s no talking her down. Again, it reminds Regulus of Sirius in a way, how she angers. The book doesn’t shutter.
She turns to the two of them, her expression drawn, “I’m going to speak to Madame Pomfrey and determine the course of treatment for Regulus as he heals. I’d like to bring him home, but for some reason, it’s been forbidden, despite the fact that we’re his parents.”
She leaves quickly, her boots clicking on the stone floor again. As the sound of them grows more distant, Regulus looks back to his father, allowing himself to let go of the bookshelves.
“Papa,” He says again, but this time he allows himself to sound happy, to feel happy, “I’m so glad to see you.”
His father smiles, taking a seat next to Regulus’ bed and grasping his hand, “Mon chou, I can’t begin to tell you how much I’ve missed seeing your face. I wish it was under different circumstances that I get to see it again, but…” He trails off, looking at their hands, “How are you, really?”
“I’m good, papa, I promise,” Regulus nods, suddenly feeling desperate to absolve his father of any guilt, “I’m really good.”
“You don’t look so good,” His father chuckles raising his brows, “I joke, but this– what has happened, this is no good, Regulus. Are you being bothered here at school?”
“Not always. This time it was just worse than usual. It’s not usually this bad.”
“You know you can always come home, Regulus. We can get you a tutor and you can learn with us. You can always come home.”
Regulus goes rigid and involuntarily removes his hand from his father’s, “No, papa, not right now. I can’t come home right now. I have my friends here, and–”
“And Sirius,” Orion finishes for him, his eyes sad, “You have your brother here. I understand, mon chou, I do. Maybe one day, you’ll come back together.”
“Maybe,” Regulus allows, swallowing the lump in his throat, because the pain in his father’s eyes is too much for him to handle right now, even after every bad thing he’s played a part in happening to Regulus.
The sound of Walburga’s footsteps returns and Orion stands, taking quick strides back to the foot of Regulus’ bed. Their mother thinks affection makes men weak, and seeing as she’s already agitated, she’s sure to start a fight if she sees the two of them like they were.
“He’s still not here,” His mother informs them only moments later, “I’ve also been told that our time is up. We’ve hardly even been here an hour, it’s absolutely deplorable how they’re treating us.”
“Best not to cause any issues now, Walburga,” Orion advises, rolling his shoulders back. His grey eyes flicker towards Regulus, “There are larger battles to be fought in the future.”
Walburga and Orion look at each other, and something passes between them. It’s something Regulus can’t read.
“Regulus,” Walburga states, staring at him again, “Can we expect you at home for the summer holidays?”
“Yes, mother,” Regulus replies without hesitation. He feels his heart twist in his chest, even now.
“Good,” She states, walking forward briskly to place a kiss on his cheek. Her lips are cold against Regulus’ skin.
“Au revoir, mon chou,” Orion chirps, a look of satisfaction on his face.
“We have so many plans for you Regulus,” Walburga tells him as they’re leaving, “We know that you won’t disappoint us.”
Once Regulus hears the sound of the Floo, he exhales a shuddering breath. His eyes sting and he scrubs at his cheek, but he doesn’t allow himself to feel it– the gravity of what just happened. He uncorks the vial of Dreamless Sleep potion on his nightstand and guzzles it down, the world fading to black around him.
-
“You found him bleeding out?” Remus asks, aghast, his freckles standing out starkly against his paled face, “Like, actually bleeding out?”
“Yeah, Moony,” James nods, solemnly, “I thought he was going to die.”
“Don’t say that,” Sirius hisses, shooting him a look.
James feels a pang of remorse for upsetting Sirius, but it’s true. He thought Regulus was going to die when he found him, even once he got him to the hospital wing he wasn’t sure what was going to happen. The amount of blood… James didn’t even realize someone could bleed that much and still survive.
“But who did it?” Peter questions, glancing between Sirius and James.
“We don’t know,” Sirius says, shaking his head, his brow furrowed, “But, believe me, when we find out I’m going to kill them.”
James shifts uncomfortably, watching Sirius. It’s not that he blames him for how he’s feeling– James feels pretty similar, to be honest. But Sirius is always one to get caught up in the moment, and this is the second time in less than 24 hours that he’s genuinely threatened to murder someone. James thinks he means it. James also thinks that the reason it’s making him uncomfortable is because he would let Sirius do it if it came down to it. Kill whoever did this to Regulus that is. He thinks he might even help. That scares him a bit.
“How do you not know?” puzzles Remus, confusion evident in his expression, “Does Regulus not remember?”
“Er,” James starts, running a hand through his hair, “We didn’t actually ask him about it, now that you mention it. We were kind of caught up in everything.”
“We’re visiting him later, in the hospital wing,” Sirius tells Pete and Remus, “We’ll ask him once we’re there.”
“Who do you think it could be?” Remus asks, “It had to have been another student, right?”
“Mulciber?” Peters offers, “He attacked Regulus at the beginning of term, didn’t he?”
“Yeah,” James says slowly, thinking, “But Regulus told me that Mulciber hasn’t been bothering him anymore. I don’t know if I think it was him.”
“When did he tell you that?” Sirius questions, his voice sharp.
“During prefect rounds, Pads. I asked him about it.”
Sirius nods, looking out the window of the dormitory.
“Should we head down?” Pete asks the group, “I know it’s early, but it might be nice to get out of the dorm?”
“Good idea, Pete,” James clasps him on the shoulder, “I told Regulus I’d tell his friends he was in the hospital wing as soon as I could, anyway. Hopefully, they’ll be down there.”
“Does that include Barty Crouch?” Remus raises a brow, “He’s going to go absolutely ballistic.”
“Loose cannon, that one,” Peter grumbles. He’s been on the receiving end of Barty’s antics more than a few times.
“I’d be more worried about Malfoy,” Sirius says absently, still looking out the window, “She might seem a bit ditsy, but she’s tough, and from what I can gather, rather protective of Regulus.”
“Bloody hell, whoever did this to Regulus is going to actually get killed,” Pete whines.
“And they’ll deserve everything that comes to them,” Sirius cuts in, tearing his gaze from the window to look at the boy, his voice cold, “Do you think otherwise, Peter?”
“I didn’t say that, Sirius,” Peter insists, looking at James.
James just shrugs. He’s usually the first to rescue Wormtail from Sirius’ outbursts, but with everything going on, Sirius might as well blow off some steam. It’s harmless anyway, nothing Peter can handle. Pete knows that Sirius loves him when it comes down to it.
“I’m heading down now,” Remus informs them, pulling a jumper over his head, “C’mon, Sirius, leave him alone. You can be mean to me instead.”
“I don’t want to be mean to you,” Sirius grumbles, grabbing his wand and following Remus out the door.
Pete throws his arms up into the air, sighing exasperatedly as he trails behind them. James can’t help but laugh.
As they walk down to the Great Hall, Remus falls back from Sirius, joining James who’s bringing up the tail of the group.
“Are you okay?” Remus questions, his eyes full of concern.
James’ immediate instinct is to smile and assure Remus that he’s fine. James isn’t usually anything but fine. He’s always fine.
For some reason though, there’s something in Remus’ look that makes him hesitate. Remus knows about James and Regulus, to some degree. He doesn’t know the details, but he knows that James has an interest in him, after their conversation in the dorm the day after James and Regulus kissed for the first time.
No one really asked James how he felt last night, finding Regulus. The focus was on Sirius, which James understands– he’s his brother. It was hard for James, though, finding Regulus like that. It was hard for him not to tell Sirius right then and there that what Regulus is to him.
“I don’t know, Moony,” James replies honestly, “Last night– it was hard. Scary.”
“You found him,” Remus states, looking at James meaningfully, “That’s quite lucky, that you happened to come across him.”
Remus is trying to be vague, but James knows he’s trying to ask more. Like, how did James find him? It’s not like he had the map on him.
James looks around, checking to see how far Sirius and Pete are from the two of them. He looks back at Remus, clearing his throat, “I was supposed to meet him. There’s this place we go– we had plans to go after Slughorn’s party,” James shakes his head, a lump rising in his throat, “If I had been ten minutes earlier, who’s to say it would have happened? If I had been ten minutes later…”
“Don’t go there, James,” Remus shakes his head, “You did get there and he’s going to be fine.”
James just nods, looking down at the floor as they walk.
“So that’s progressed then? Past moping about him?” Remus asks, lightly.
James laughs, looking back up at Remus again, “Yeah, Moony, it's progressed. Quite a bit, honestly.” The note that James left for Regulus flashes in his mind. His face gets hot and he represses a smile.
“Yeah? Are you happy about that?”
“You have no idea, Remus, genuinely,” James assures him, grinning, “He makes me so happy, it’s a bit ridiculous.”
Remus hums, “I’m happy for you, Prongs. Are you going to tell Sirius?”
James’ smile falters, and he looks at Sirius, who’s walking ahead of them with Pete, speaking quietly. James feels a twist of guilt in his stomach.
“I’m going to, I just… I don’t really know how, honestly,” James runs a hand through his hair, “Regulus doesn’t want him to know yet, so there’s that too.”
“You’ll have to tell him eventually, James. Don’t get too lost in it all. Even if Regulus doesn’t want you to tell Sirius, but you want to tell him… Well, Regulus isn’t the only one who gets to decide, okay?”
James considers that. He wants to tell Sirius because he’s his best friend, the closest thing to a brother that James has ever had, and he’s never kept something from him before. At the same time, he isn’t ready for the fallout that will come along with him knowing. Sirius has always been possessive of James and he’s intense about Regulus, as well. James doesn’t know how it would turn out, Sirius finding out. He doesn’t feel like poking the bear yet.
“I know that Moony, but thanks for reminding me,” James tells him, and he’s being genuine, “I don’t think I’m ready yet either, but hopefully soon.”
Remus nods, and they walk quietly, almost to the Great Hall.
Walking in, James catches up to Sirius, who’s headed for the Slytherin table. James assumes that he’s looking for Reg’s friends.
It’s hard to miss Malfoy, with that blonde hair, so the two of them make a beeline for her. Evan and Barty are sitting across from her and there’s an empty spot and plate next to her, likely intended for Regulus. James’ heart twists.
“Malfoy,” Sirius calls out tightly, standing behind Crouch and Rosier, their backs to him, “A word?”
Pandora looks up, her large eyes blinking, “Sirius?”
Barty and Evan turn around immediately, nearly breaking their necks to look at Sirius and James.
“Is something wrong?” Rosier asks, looking from Sirius to James.
James and Sirius must have similar expressions on their faces because Evan and Barty both frown and Pandora’s hand flies to her mouth.
“It’s Regulus,” James says quietly, looking at the other Slytherins sitting at the table before speaking again, “We can’t tell you here, I don’t know how many people should know.”
Barty rises from the table immediately, his fists clenched, and walks towards the entrance of the hall. Pandora and Evan both scramble to get up from their seats and follow Barty, James, and Sirius.
“What the hell is going on?” Barty questions once they’re in the entrance hall, his voice panicked, “Where’s Reg?”
Evan and Pandora stand beside him, the two of them pale in the face as they wait for James and Sirius to respond.
“He’s in the hospital wing,” Sirius tells them, his face solemn, “He was attacked last night, after Slughorn’s party.”
Pandora gasps, twisting a lock of hair around her finger as she covers her mouth again.
“What?” Barty asks, incredulous.
“Attacked?” Evan questions, “How bad is it?”
Sirius turns to James like he’s supposed to answer this one. James thinks it’s hard for Sirius, to talk about Regulus in that state. It’s hard for James too, but he’s always been willing to pick up the hard parts of things for the people he loves. He’ll do it now if that’s what Sirius needs.
“It was really bad,” James murmurs, “I found him on the staircase leading to the seventh floor after the party. He– He was bleeding out.” Regulus’ impossibly pale face and blood-soaked robes flash through his head. He swallows, “There was a lot of blood and they had to put him in a magical coma. I didn’t know if– It was really bad.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Barty hisses, “Who did it?”
“We don’t know yet,” Sirius shakes his head, “Reg wasn’t in much of a state to talk about what happened last night and we haven’t been yet this morning.”
“No offense,” Evan says, shaking his head, “But why the hell aren’t you there with him? Why did you even leave his side?” His tone is slightly accusing, and his eyes rest on James for a few seconds too long.
“Rosier, don’t start,” Sirius counters, angry, “He had to sleep, we had to sleep, we were there for hours before Madame Pomfrey sent us back to Gryffindor Tower. You should just be glad we bothered to tell you what happened.”
“Oh, thank you so much for bothering to inform us that our best friend nearly died, Black,” Barty says flatly, shaking his head, “I can’t stand you, you know that, right?”
“Okay,” James chimes in, stepping in front of Sirius, who looks like he’s about to throttle Barty, “We’re all worried about Reg and it’s showing, but the facts are that he’s okay and we told you, so you can go see him today, but not until later.”
“Why can’t we go now?” Pandora asks, her voice shaking.
“Dumbledore called our parents,” Sirius scowls, not angry at Pandora, but at the situation, “They were supposed to come first thing this morning, but I don’t know when exactly that is. He didn’t want us to come while they were there.”
“Your parents? Dumbledore called your parents to come see Reg? The ones who tortured and beat him within an inch of death?” Barty snarls, enraged, “You’re fucking kidding me, right? That old git is actually trying to kill him.”
“Walburga and Orion like me,” Evan says, his voice slightly far away, like he's thinking hard.
“Good for you,” Sirius mutters under his breath.
“No,” Evan shakes his head, brows furrowed, “I’m saying they like me, my family. They’d probably like to see me visiting Reg. I can go up to the hospital wing and see if they’re still there, then decide if we can all go see him.”
“That’s a great idea, Evan,” James says, kindly. He's really trying not to piss off Regulus' friends, they scare him enough as it is. He wants them to like him.
“I mean they like the three of us,” Barty says, glancing between Pandora and Evan, “We’re all a part of the Sacred 28, they like having us around Reg. We can all go.”
“Yeah,” Evan nods, “You’re right. Didn’t they look into a match for Regulus and Pandora? They’ll probably be happy to see her.”
“You think that Sacred 28 bullshit matters?” Sirius sneers, a little bit behind the current conversation that James is trying very hard to ignore.
“Oh, Merlin’s fucking Beard, Sirius,” Barty groans, rubbing his temple, “Are you actually stupid? That isn’t even what I said.”
“Well-,” Sirius starts, and James cuts him off again.
“Why don’t you guys just go? Let us know if we can come up too.”
The three of them nod, walking quickly in the direction of the infirmary. Sirius and James stand together, watching their retreating forms.
“Could Crouch be any more of a prick?” Sirius grumbles, crossing his arms.
James glances over at him but doesn’t say anything. He rather likes Barty, honestly. He’s funny and loyal, a bit on the dramatic side. James won’t say it now, but Barty reminds him a bit of Sirius. He thinks Reg probably thinks so too.
-
The walk to the infirmary is a blur for Pandora. She’s lost in her thoughts, trying to understand how she didn’t see this, how she had no warning for something happening to Regulus.
She can’t see everything, she knows that, but usually big things– life-threatening things, are made available to her.
She’s kept a close eye on Regulus’ timeline since the summer and there was nothing that indicated that this would happen. Her sight works in peculiar ways, though. Sometimes she gets warnings far in advance, other times it comes to her as it happens. Like when Regulus’ family let him leave the house, she saw it as it was happening. There was nothing she could do to prevent it, it was just a window into time and his life. Regulus’ timeline has become very fractured for her after that– she sees bits and pieces. That’s how she saw James and Regulus, and that’s how she knows that Regulus and Sirius are going to forgive each other and become close again. Other things though, seem to be lying in wait behind a veil, unwilling to reveal themselves to her.
She’s only fifteen– she’ll be sixteen in March, so it’s to be expected that she doesn’t have a full handle on her abilities, but she worked hard over the summer to hone them in and be able to use them to her advantage. Obviously what she worked on wasn’t enough and she’s going to have to train harder and focus more. The war is only getting worse and she knows that the people she loves most are going to be heavily involved.
She’s small, not the best duelist, not very threatening. Her power of sight is the only thing she has that will set her apart as the fight continues, and she needs to capitalize on it. Not for glory, or recognition, but for her friends. She needs to be able to protect them in whatever way she can, and she knows this is how she’ll be most useful.
Her ability as a Seer is something her family and friends have kept quiet for that exact reason. Although Divination is a soft branch of magic, one that is largely doubted and highly critiqued, true Seers are regarded with large amounts of respect and covenance. In the face of a war like this, having a Seer on either side could result in strategization and manipulation of time itself, using the knowledge of the future as a way to change the course of time. If Voldemort knew of her gifts, her family would likely be forced to let him use her or face death. Pandora isn’t sure which one is worse.
It’s no secret that Divination is not a form of magic that’s set in stone. Timelines can be disrupted by a single change, even the most minute decision that differs from what was originally foreseen can lead to an entirely different outcome. That's why Pandora keeps her visions and insight largely to herself.
Knowledge of the future is a weapon, and it can be the most deadly of all. She plans to come armed.
“Pandora,” Evan says quietly, nudging her with his shoulder, “We’re here.”
She blinks, looking around, and realizes they’re in the hospital wing now. Barty is speaking with Madame Pomfrey in her study.
“Where is Regulus?” She questions, looking around, the hospital wing appears to be empty of students, “His parents?”
“I think Walburga and Orion just left, so we got lucky with that,” Evan tells her, “As for Reg, I’m pretty sure Pomfrey put a Notice-Me-Not charm on his bed since we can’t see him. Probably for security purposes. There’s no way he’s been released if it’s as bad as Potter said it was.”
Pandora doesn’t respond. She wonders if Evan doubts James’ information about what happened. She heard the way his voice hardened when he was questioning him about Regulus earlier. The three of them, herself, Barty, and Evan, have always been protective of Regulus, so she gets it, Evan not really trusting James with him. The four of them have known each other since they were children, but they didn’t truly get close until Sirius left Grimmauld Place and Regulus didn’t have anyone else.
It wasn’t easy necessarily, getting to the point of closeness they have with Regulus now. It took months of effort on their behalves and demonstrated, repeated loyalty for Regulus to open up.
They know, from years of watching Regulus, even prior to their friendship with him, that he didn’t have an easy time growing up. A lot of people at Hogwarts focus on Sirius’ struggle in the Black family home, but Regulus’ was bad too, especially after Sirius left. That's a major part of Barty's dislike for Sirius-- he thinks that Sirius is selfish and didn't do enough to protect Regulus. He thinks that Sirius leaving Grimmauld the way he did, and then lashing out at Regulus afterward was cowardly. Pandora doesn't totally disagree, but unlike Barty, she's aware that things aren't that black and white. Especially when it comes to family affairs. You'd think that Barty would get it, how complicated it all can be, considering his relationship with his own father, but it's almost like that just makes him angrier at Sirius, rather than giving him space to feel empathy toward him.
As a child, Regulus was either ignored or punished by his mother. Full attention was on Sirius, the heir. That’s normal in many pureblood families, but it doesn’t make it any less difficult for the spare to endure. Regulus grew up as a second thought, never destined for greatness or prepped for the responsibilities that came with being an heir. That all changed when Sirius left. Suddenly, everything he had been told he wouldn’t be, became his fate. He was left with a role he never asked for and was never ready for. Pandora still can’t believe he didn’t break under the pressure of it sooner than he did.
“He’s right this way,” Madame Pomfrey says, bringing Pandora back to reality once more. She shakes her head as if to clear it, and files after Barty and Evan to a hospital bed which suddenly appears as the nurse leads them to it. Evan was right about the Notice-Me-Not charm. “I believe he’s sleeping, poor lamb. He hasn’t gotten near as much rest as he needs. I’ll ask you not to wake him, but feel free to just sit with him for a bit. I’m going to be teaching a healing class in my study in a bit, so I might not see you on your way out. Once you leave, if you could tell Sirius and James to stop by this afternoon, that would be very helpful.”
The three of them nod in affirmation and make their way through the curtains.
If it wasn’t for the bandages wrapped tightly around Regulus’ torso, you might not be able to tell that he was injured, Pandora thinks. He looks much better than she was expecting.
The biggest difference is that he’s a bit paler than usual, but Reg is always fair, so it’s not too stark. He must have lost a significant amount of blood if his coloring is still off, even after hours of treatment.
“He looks so peaceful,” Barty mutters, “Wouldn’t guess that someone tried to murder him.”
“He’s always had the cherubic look,” Evan adds, looking at Reg with a smile playing on his lips, “The blood loss and lack of healthy human complexion is really adding to it.”
“Like a little vampire baby,” Barty sighs, tilting his head to the side, trying to suppress a grin as well.
They’re joking around, which some people might think is insensitive, but Pandora is grateful for, honestly. It’s nice to have normalcy, even in awful situations like this one.
She steps in front of Barty and Evan and takes Regulus’ cold hand into her own. When she laces their fingers together, she gets tugged into a vision without intention, something that rarely happens to her.
It’s like a supercut– a series of brief moments flashing in her mind as she’s helpless to intervene, only to watch.
She sees Regulus. She sees James and Sirius. Barty, Evan, and herself. Lily Evans. She sees fire and ash. Dark Magic and rough waters. Bodies of the dead. A cave. The dark mark. Voldemort himself. Regulus again. And more, she sees so much more. She sees it in slow motion, she sees it sped up, she sees it backward. It’s all she can see. There’s no escaping it.
As soon as it began, it’s over, leaving Pandora hunched over, her hand still in Regulus’, gasping for air like she had been suffocating. A sharp pain sears through her head and she cries out, yanking her hand out of Regulus’, keeping her eyes screwed shut.
“Pandora,” Barty rushes forward, crouching behind her, “What is it? What did you see?”
She forces herself to open her eyes and look at Barty. Her best friend, whom she loves so dearly. His brown eyes staring at her, full of concern.
“The war,” Pandora gasps, clutching his shoulder like a lifeline, “I saw how the war is going to end.”