On Begged and Borrowed Time

January 3rd, 1977

When Regulus wakes up the morning that they return to school from winter break, he feels like he’s preparing for his own funeral.

It’s a bit dramatic, really. This is nowhere near the worst part of what’s to come, or maybe it is. What’s that saying again? The first cut is the deepest? He thinks it might be true. 

The change in Regulus’ demeanor needs to be evident from the moment he steps into King’s Cross. People need to notice that he’s different. Sirius doesn’t agree—he and Regulus argue about it in his bedroom before they all leave Potter Cottage.

“Why can’t we have some kind of falling out once we actually get to school?” Sirius asks, annoyed.

“It needs to be shown that I changed my mind over break,” Regulus reminds him for the tenth time that morning. “There can be no doubts about my intentions.”

“But,” Sirius argues, waving his hands around in the air. He keeps talking, but Regulus doesn’t listen. He just watches his brother work his ass off to argue in protection of their relationship. He just wants a little bit more time. Regulus gets that. He wants it too, he just can’t give it to him. Later, he can. Hopefully, later, he can.

Regulus lets Sirius argue some more. Make points that he doesn’t take into account. It’s better to let him yap like this. Blow off steam. At least he feels heard with Regulus letting him go on and on.

Breakfast is a quiet affair. Regulus assumes that Effie and Monty think it’s because they’re returning to school after so long, and that is part of it, but not for the reasons they think. No amount of teasing or questions about the upcoming term gets the boys talking or laughing for James’ parents. They’re grieving, in a way. This is what it looks like for them to mourn a reality they never should have had. Briefly, Regulus wonders what Effie and Monty would do if they knew about what Dumbledore has asked of Regulus. Would they let him go? They probably would, considering it’s supposed to save their son’s life.

James has been left to a quiet resignation. He knows better than to argue with Regulus on his methods. Besides, they should still have Prefect rounds and the Room of Requirement. They’ll be okay.

They have a private goodbye anyway. It’s not like they were very public about it before, but now it needs to be shut down completely. Even Prefect rounds will be different, outwardly. They’ll have to be very careful. Friendliness can’t even be registered between the two of them. So, it’s with gentle kisses and lingering hands that Regulus’ time with James, as it has been, ends.

Regulus waits until the last possible moment to put his Occlumency shields in place. He doesn’t want to be cold and distant for this last bit of peacetime, even if it hurts. 

Effie and Monty had insisted on accompanying the boys to the train station. Monty was able to borrow an enchanted car from the ministry, magicked to hold all six of them and the boys’ luggage.

Regulus stares out the window of the car, watching as rain falls upon the retreating image of the English countryside. He knows he hasn’t taken this break, or the generosity of the Potters, for granted. He’s been brutally aware of how fleeting it was and how necessary it was to savor. Somehow, it still feels like he didn’t appreciate it enough.

He’s pressed against the car door with James on the other side of him. His warm hands trace the back of Regulus’ neck, occasionally tangling themselves in his curls. Watching raindrops race each other down the window and James’ touch, Regulus falls asleep.

“Reg, we’re here. It’s time to go,” A soft voice tells him.

Regulus wakes with a start and the city of London surrounding him. They’ve found a car park and Monty and Remus are unloading their trunks from the car. James is still in the car, his gaze warm on Regulus.

“Oh no,” Regulus whispers, panicked. “I fell asleep. I—I missed it. I missed the last bit of it.”

“Hey, hey,” James says, softly. He rubs Regulus’ cheek. “You didn’t miss a thing. The drive was long and Sirius fell asleep too. I think all of us, except Mum and Dad, nodded off at some point. It’s okay.”

Regulus swallows, nodding. This isn’t the time to be upset about this anyway. He’s minutes away from a different timeline. He can’t lose his cool now.

“Well, boys,” Monty says, rubbing his hands together and grinning at the four of them once they’re all standing outside of the car and next to their trunks. “We’ll see you for summer. Try not to get into too much trouble in the meantime.”

“And you can always come back to ours for Easter,” Mrs. Potter adds, smiling pleasantly at all of them. It feels like their eyes— Effie and Monty’s—are burning holes in Regulus’ heart. Carving vicious, loving chunks out of his armor. 

When the boys bid Monty and Effie goodbye, Regulus makes sure to thank them profusely for everything—Christmas, his birthday, everything. 

“You’re one of our boys now, Regulus,” Monty tells him. His eyes are the same shade of hazel as James’. “Don’t forget that.”

“Give us a hug, won’t you?” Effie laughs, opening her arms up for Regulus. He stares at them for a moment, before slowly stepping into them. Effie is a smaller woman, but in her arms, Regulus feels like a child. Effie holds him, smoothing the back of his hair down as Regulus squeezes her tighter. It’s not like him. In fact, it’s so out of character that Regulus can feel the moment Effie realizes something is wrong. 

“Regulus, love,” Effie murmurs, alarmed. She keeps stroking his hair, but her movements are less sure, like she’s slightly afraid. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Regulus mutters into her shoulder. He pulls back and looks at her. She’s so James all over, just like Monty. They’ve been so kind to him. They’ve given him things he’s never deserved. “Thank you again for everything.”

He wishes he could pay them back for it all. He would if he could, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever see them again.

—

The train ride back is uneventful. Regulus wasn’t assigned to patrol on the way back to school. He sits as far away from James as possible during the Prefect meeting. 

As he walks back to find his friends afterward, he begins to embrace his new self. Chin raised, shoulders back, and a sneer on his face. Where he would’ve ignored younger students and muggle-borns before, he shoots them glares. He tries to embody his mother. Not everyone is capable of it, but it is possible to threaten people with your presence. He’s doing it now.

“Not with your blood-traitor of a brother then, Black? Come to your senses?”

Regulus turns swiftly, hand on his wand. It takes every bit of self-control to not roll his eyes when he sees Mulciber grinning at him. Snape is hovering just behind him, eyeing Regulus warily. 

Regulus rolls his shoulders back and smirks at Mulciber, raising himself to his full height. “You’ll be pleased to hear that the holidays were rather enlightening for me, Mulciber.” He offers his hand. “Shall we let bygones be bygones?”

Snape’s brow furrows in clear confusion, but Mulciber’s nasty grin only grows. He takes Regulus’ hand and shakes it firmly. “I knew you’d come around, Black.”

—

“Not a word,” Regulus hisses the moment he closes the door to their train compartment. 

Evan and Barty had come across Regulus shaking hands with Mulciber. He hadn’t extended such a truce to Snape, but ever since he told Barty and Evan about Snape being his attacker, they don’t take to his presence very well. They hadn’t looked happy, but they didn’t intervene, much to Regulus’ relief. 

“I know you have to get friendly with everyone, but did you have to start with Mulciber?” Evan questions.

“He was there,” Regulus rolls his eyes. “It’s not like I picked him. I wasn’t particularly keen about any of it either.”

“But it’s Mulciber,” Barty groans. “ And Snape was there! Aren’t you allowed to have some taste, at least? I mean, does You-Know-Who really want a freak like him in his ranks?”

“You mean a pureblood heir who’s loyal to the cause?” Regulus shoots back. “His father is extremely wealthy and influential—not to mention he’s a Death Eater. There was no getting around Mulciber.”

“Didn’t he used to bug you at the beginning of term?” Evan asks, looking confused. “I mean, what’s with the change? Didn’t he tell you that you’d never be brought back into the fold and all of that?”

“You can thank me for that,” Dorcas interjects, setting her book down. She looks at Evan and Barty, unimpressed. “Aside from enjoying my holiday, I also put some work in. Let’s just say that all of Slytherin house and most of my mother’s pureblood friends are aware that Regulus is done with the Potters. He wants his birthright back and he’s going to get it.”

“Thank you, Dorcas,” Regulus sighs. He has to admit, he was also a little bit confused by how warm Mulicber was toward him, all things considered. He hasn’t forgotten the attack at the beginning of the year. He’ll be getting back at Mulciber for that one, thank you very much.

“No need,” Dorcas dismisses, going back to her book. “Don’t get too friendly with Snape, though. You’ll look soft. He’s still a half-blood from a family with no influence. Mulciber just keeps around because he does whatever he wants.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Regulus grumbles. Evan and Barty are giving him withering stares. Regulus ignores them. Now is not the time.

“Where’s Pandora?” Barty asks, looking around the compartment. “She’s not coming back late, is she?”

“No, don’t worry,” Dorcas tells him. “She went off to talk to some of her friends in a different house. She’ll be at dinner tonight.”

Regulus looks down at his hands, watching as his fingers twitch with the impulse to check the pocket watch. He needs to speak with Pandora as soon as possible so he can understand how to use it. He doesn’t know if the fear resting in his stomach is warranted or not.

—

“So,” Barty whispers, leaning over to Regulus during Dumbledore’s return speech. “How intense are we getting with this personality-change thing? Like, are we talking glaring and scowling while quietly agreeing with the pureblood stuff, or are we going full-on mini-Death Eater?”

“Merlin’s fucking beard,” Regulus mutters, glancing at Barty. “Have you ever learned the word ‘discreet’, Barty?”

“What?” Barty grins. “I’m whispering, aren’t I? I just want to know what the plan is. I’m down for either, for the record. Although, it might be a little bit fun to be crazy with it all, don’t you think?”

Regulus ignores him. He doesn’t think it would be particularly fun, no. It concerns him, how eager Barty is for all of this to begin. Not because he thinks that Barty believes it, but because he’s impulsive and painstakingly loyal to Regulus. It’s a great trait to have in a friend, usually. Barty might take it too far though. 

Regulus also knows that Barty didn’t have a great break, aside from New Year’s Eve. His father has always been hard on him, but it’s gotten worse recently. Much worse. Barty is itching to act out and prove his father right. Regulus can’t help but think that Barty views Regulus’ task and what it entails as the perfect opportunity for it all to come to a head.

“It’ll be something in between,” Regulus murmurs, eventually. “We don’t need to go to the lengths the others do. At least, I don’t, and therefore by association you don’t. Most of them are overcompensating, hoping to get Voldemort’s attention. We don’t need to stoop that low.”

Barty nods, going back to eating. Regulus lets his eyes flutter shut a moment as he brings his Occlumency shields to the forefront of his mind. Dumbledore’s speech is about over and he’ll need to socialize with the others. Regulus doesn’t like most people, to be honest, so this won’t be an easy task. He needs to cut corners where he can. If a little bit of Occulmency means he doesn’t roll his eyes or snap at anyone, that’ll be enough for him.

“Black,” A voice says. “Are you ready to get back to practice this week? We’ve got a shot at the cup, I’d say.”

Regulus' eyes shoot open. Across the table, just to the left, Percy Parkinson is grinning at him. He’s captain of the Slytherin team. A relatively decent guy, from Regulus’ experience. He’s a member of the Sacred 28 and his parents are close to Regulus’. He’s a couple years older than Regulus so they never spent much time together, but he’s never given him any grief either. It’s more than can be said of some of his other house members, like Mulciber or Snape.

Regulus nods, loading his plate. “I’m always ready, Parkinson.”

Parkinson’s smile grows larger, looking slightly predatory. Like a snake baring its fangs. “That’s what I thought.”

Regulus doesn’t engage further. He doesn’t have much to talk about with Percy. He could keep talking Quidditch—it’d be easy, but he can’t be bothered. He begins eating quietly, simultaneously taking it all in and drowning everyone out. He ignores the urge to glance back at the table behind him.

“So, Regulus,” Now it’s Theodore Nott speaking, another member of the Sacred 28. Teddy, as he goes by at school. Regulus’ mother always said a name like that was too soft. Nicknames are for the uncivilized, she had informed them after a dinner with the Notts. Regulus can’t help but feel his lips twitch, thinking of Sirius and his friends’ love of pet names. “Mulciber here told us you had a rather… enlightening break.”

Regulus narrows his eyes at Teddy. “Is there a question there somewhere, Nott?”

“Regulus isn’t one for small talk and half-assed attempts at needling,” Barty says with a smirk. “If you’ve got something to say, Nott, it’s best you just come out and say it.”

Nott narrows his eyes at Barty, much like Regulus had done to him just moments earlier. “I’m sorry, Crouch. I didn’t realize I had said anything to you?”

“Quit,” Regulus snaps. “Enough of this childish nonsense, the both of you. Nott, was there something you were looking for me to say?”

Nott gives Barty one last look before redirecting his gaze to Regulus. He crosses his arms, leaning on the table. He uses one of his arms to wave his hand in question. “I suppose I’m just wondering how it is you finally came around? I mean, you were looking pretty cozy with Potter and your brother and all of their blood-traitor friends just a few weeks ago. I even saw you sit at their table for breakfast.”

Regulus tilts his head at him. “Are you questioning my loyalty? Tell me, Nott, have you ever heard the saying ‘know thy enemy’?”

Teddy shifts uncomfortably, glancing around the table. People are starting to pay attention now. Mulciber, Parkinson, Avery, and Snape have begun to watch. Even Evan and Pandora have paused their conversation to watch as this unfolds.

“I have,” Nott agrees with a sneer. “Are you trying to tell us that’s why you were so friendly with them? Lived with them? We all know your parents tossed you out like trash at the end of the summer, Black.”

“Oh, yes,” Regulus nods, smoothing his napkin down primly. “I’m sure you know all the ins and outs of the Dark Lord’s inner circle, don’t you?” Regulus smiles meanly. “Think, Nott, would my family ever be caught in such a scandal if it was genuine? Would they ever allow such shame to come to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black? Two sons and a bloodline lost?”

“What, are you trying to say you’re the Dark Lord’s spy then?” Nott scoffs. “Claiming to be a Death Eater, are you, Reggie?”

“He’s not one yet,” Evan interjects quickly, his lip curling up. “That doesn’t mean he won’t be, though. I heard Bellatrix telling people at the Black Christmas party that they’re planning to give him the mark as early as the summer. He’ll be the youngest one ever. I don’t think the Dark Lord has such plans for you, does he, Teddy?”

“We’re all friends here,” Mulciber smiles, looking at all of the boys. “No need to fight, eh, Reg? Teddy?”

Regulus tears his eyes away from Evan and to Mulciber. He’d like very much to smash both Mulciber and Nott’s heads into the table with all the ‘Reggie’ and ‘Reg’ bullshit. Maybe his Occlumency isn't as good as he thought, considering how pissed off he is right now. He sets his mouth into a thin line and nods. “Too right, Mulciber.” Whereas Nott nods and grumbles, going back to speaking with Avery.

Regulus casts his eyes onto his plate, thinking. He expected some resistance from others in Slytherin but wasn’t sure if he’d get such a direct confrontation. All things considered, Nott’s questioning wasn’t too bad. Regulus was backed up by multiple people, and in the end, it was Mulciber who smoothed it over. Whatever Dorcas said over the holidays must have been very effective. He needs to ask her for the details so he can be more prepared for conversations like this one. In the meantime, he continues to be suspicious of Mulciber and the lot of them. He hasn’t spent enough time with them to fully determine their threat levels.

But… what Evan said. Regulus wasn’t expecting that. He wasn’t even aware that Evan was at his parents' party. It was quick thinking on his part, just enough to shut them all up. However, the implications of it are worrisome. He doubts that Evan would have the gall to make up something that intensive. Many pureblood families were at that party—he could easily get caught in the lie. Regulus needs to ask him for the details, too.

Seeing that the others are busy now, distracted by mundane retellings of their holidays, Regulus risks a glance over his shoulder, pretending to look at the ceiling of the Great Hall. Instead, he scans the Gryffindor table. Staring right back at him is Sirius, whose jaw is set and has one hand fisted on the table. Stone-faced, Regulus looks back at him. There’s nothing he can do to make it better right now.

Just as quickly as he turned around in the first place, he turns back to the Slytherin table and begins eating. After a few moments, he looks up again, meeting a pair of blue eyes farther down the table. He doesn’t look away.

Pandora raises her eyebrows at him in silent question. He nods. Tonight, they’ll talk.

Merlin knows it’s overdue.

—

When dinner ends, Regulus is relieved to not be on the prefect roster tonight. Just last term, that’s how it all started. He and James, assigned to patrol the hallways together. It’d be a painful reminder on a night like this, to be forced to relive it in a way that would be forcefully different.

Rising from his spot at the dinner table, Regulus turns just in time to see James’ retreating head, trailing after Sirius and Remus. He’s chatting happily to Pettigrew, likely catching up after the time apart. Regulus found it a bit odd, how Peter’s mother hadn’t allowed him to leave the house after the attack in Diagon Alley. After Alphard died. James had told Regulus that Peter’s mum was strict—so this wasn’t a surprising reaction, but something about it had been flagged in Regulus’ mind. He can’t help but think about how lucky it was that he was running late in the first place and missed it all.

He’s seen Pete talking with some of the Slytherins on occasion. He’s a bit more accepted by them than the rest of the Marauders. His family is pureblood, even if his magical ability is widely questioned. They run in similar circles as Regulus’ family though not as prestigious. The Pettigrews have taken a painfully neutral stance on the war as a whole. Regulus isn’t sure what Peter’s beliefs are, but he’s sure that being friends with Sirius and James has cemented his place on the side of the light.

Once he arrives at the dungeons, Barty and Evan on either side of him, he’d love to just retire to the dorm and let this new life of his end a little early tonight. He can’t do that though. Many of the Slytherin boys, particularly those who plan to join Voldemort once they graduate, have a tradition of hanging around together in the common room on the first night back. They talk, laugh, plan, and maybe drink a bit if anyone's got anything. Normal teenage boy stuff, if you leave out the part where they all want to join a deadly militant group. 

Anyway, Regulus, Barty, and Evan don’t usually partake. Back when Regulus would have wanted to join them, he wasn’t old enough, even if he was a Black. Then, he realized they were all rather insufferable. Plus, he’s always liked to keep a low profile. He sticks to those he likes. Again, he’d like to do the same now, but he’s painfully aware that it’s not in his favor to do so. So, he nods to Barty and Evan and the three of them sit on one of the sofas closest to the fireplace. 

“Did you see that nasty mudblood MacDonald tonight?” Parkinson sneers, a tumbler of fire whiskey in his hand. He shakes his head. “She thinks she’s so—she thinks she’s all that. It’s fucking maddening.”

“You can’t deny, she’s a fit one, though,” Mulciber laughs, his crooked teeth gleaming in the light of the fire. “So’s that other one. Evans.”

Regulus resists the urge to wrinkle his nose in disgust. He can’t say anything to disagree, especially not about something like this. He’ll refrain where he can—meaning he’ll do his best to discreetly diffuse any face-to-face altercations with the Slytherins and any of Sirius’ friends, but he can’t just stand up for them when it comes to something like this. They’ll clock him immediately. However, it doesn’t escape his notice the way Snape stiffens at Mulciber’s words. Someone’s still not over that.

“Wouldn’t touch one of them with a pole,” Avery shakes his head, frowning at the crackling fire. “They might be fit, but they’re not worth the filth of it all. They’re no better than muggles. Bloody disgusting, if you ask me.”

“Some of us like to have some fun, Avery. Stray here and there,” Mulciber laughs. He looks at Regulus and winks. “Tell us then, Reg. Did you shag any of those mudblood birds while you were cozy with the Gryffindors?”

Regulus makes a face of disgust, which can easily be passed for his reaction to such an implication and not the utter crudeness of Mulciber. Really, where is the decorum? “No, Mulciber, I didn’t. Not interested.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend, have you, Black?” Parkinson questions. “We need to find you one. Have some fun before you’re off helping the Dark Lord.”

Regulus pauses. He doesn’t know the right course of action here. Should he agree and not follow through? Disagree and raise potential questions about why he doesn’t want a girlfriend?

“Reg isn’t the commitment type,” Barty dismisses, waving a hand through the air. He shoots Regulus a conspiratorial grin. “Nah, he’s more of a hit-it-and-quit-it bloke, I’m afraid.”

“Fair,” Parkinson nods, sizing up Regulus. He takes a sip of his drink before speaking again. “Don’t blame you, mate. You’re like me, I’m sure—bound to be married off to some frigid pureblood witch as soon as your parents find a match. I guess I’m just dating around before in hopes I can marry someone I actually fancy.”

“My parents know that the mission of the Dark Lord comes first,” Regulus replies, firmly. “Marriage is secondary for now.”

“Won’t always be,” Parkinson shakes his head. He laughs, humorlessly. “You’re almost of age now. The last male in the line, too. I’m sure your parents are desperate to get some more. Preserving the bloodline and all that. They’re like insurance to them, grandchildren.”

“Do you have to be such a downer?” Evan groans, throwing his head back against the couch. “I mean, I’m not looking forward to my match process either, but I don’t drone on about it.”

Parkinson smiles apologetically. “Sorry. The whiskey—gets me all thoughtful about the future. Still trying to wrap my head around the fact that it’s my last term at Hogwarts, as well.”

“No need to apologize,” Mulciber claps a hand on Percy’s shoulder. “It’ll be a great last term and then you’ll be out there in the real world, fighting the fight. Soon enough, we’ll all be right there with you.”

Parkinson smiles gratefully at Mulciber and the chatter resumes. Details about everyone’s holiday, what they received for Christmas, complaints about classes and professors, and the like. Normal teenage boy things.

Once enough time has passed—almost an hour on the dot—Regulus excuses himself.

“I have to meet Pandora,” He tells the group. “See you all tomorrow.”

“Pandora, huh?” Avery grins. “Now that I can get behind. She’s smashing. A pureblood too—one of the Sacred 28. Can you imagine marrying into the Malfoy line? The power and wealth?”

“Reg has got enough of that on his own,” Mulciber laughs again. “I will say though, maybe don’t hit and quit that one? That’d be a proper good match, that one. I bet she’s a good lay too—curvy little thing.”

“It’s not like that,” Regulus snaps, harsher than he intended. He’s itching to curse them for comments like those. Even if he’s been angry with her, Pandora is one of Regulus’ best friends. He loves her the best way he knows how. He’s not alone in the feeling, either. Beside him, Evan’s fists are curled into tight balls and he’s staring down at his lap. “Pandora’s a friend. She wouldn’t have the slightest bit of interest in you, Avery, so keep your thoughts to yourself or fuck off.”

“Regulus doesn’t like commitment,” Barty repeats, smiling tightly. “Or sharing.”

The boys erupt into laughter and wolf-whistles and Regulus leaves, feeling his anger rise in his chest. 

—

By a stroke of luck, or fate, or just the fact that Pandora knows Regulus very well, she’s waiting for him in the Astronomy tower when he arrives.

Regulus enters silently, watching her a moment before announcing himself. She’s leaning against the railing, her pale blonde hair illuminated by the moonlight. It’s snowing now, just a light dusting, and she seems to be watching it fall.

“Hello,” Regulus says.

Pandora turns, not the least bit startled. She looks at him before speaking, frowning slightly. “Someone’s upset you. What happened?”

“Mulciber and Avery chatting shit,” Regulus tells her, scowling. “It was nothing. Just irritating is all.”

Pandora hums, looking at him a moment longer. She turns back toward the sky and looks over her shoulder, gesturing for him to join her.

“Were they talking about me?”

Regulus looks at her. He arches a brow. “Did you see it?”

Pandora laughs lightly, shaking her head. “No, I just guessed. They’re foul, all of them. The things they say about girls at school… Not to mention what they say about Muggleborns…”

“Yeah,” Regulus nods, looking up at the stars. “They had a go at Mary MacDonald and Lily Evans as well.”

“Did they?” Pandora questions, her voice tight. “Well, they’re both better than all of them, so it just goes to show how idiotic they are.”

Regulus doesn’t respond to that. He just keeps looking over the school grounds and the snow that’s falling over them. Eventually, he decides to speak again.

“I don’t think I said the right thing, when they started talking about you,” Regulus admits. “Morally right, yes, but in their eyes, no.”

Pandora raises her eyebrows. “What did you say?”

“I told them, rather rudely, that you wouldn’t be interested in any of them,” Regulus tells her. He glances at her. “I might have told Avery to fuck off as well.”

Pandora lets out a delighted giggle. “Well, thank you for protecting my honor, Regulus. It’s fine though, I’m sure they’ll just think we’re together and you don’t want people to know.”

“That’s what Barty said. Or insinuated, I suppose.”

“Did he?”

Regulus nods. “Parkinson brought up that I haven’t had a girlfriend. I didn’t know what to say, honestly. Barty was quick with it though—said I’m not one for commitment. Then, when I got upset about you he said I don’t like to share.”

“Quick thinking,” Pandora comments. Regulus nods in agreement.

“So,” Regulus says after a few minutes of silence. “Did you have a good holiday?”

Pandora looks at him skeptically. “Are you so nervous about this conversation that you, Regulus Black, are engaging in what you call ‘mundane and mind-rotting small talk’?”

Regulus’ lips twitch, despite himself. “Maybe I really want to know.”

Pandora’s eyes glitter with amusement. “It was fine. We went to France for about a week. Then back to England. It was the same thing it is every year. Some talk about the family hiding, or moving, once the war spreads a bit more, but otherwise the same.”

That doesn’t surprise Regulus. Pandora’s immediate family tends to stay out of the spotlight, especially when it surrounds conflict. “Were you at my family’s Christmas party too then?”

“I was,” Pandora nods. “That was the same as well, aside from you not being there.”

“Evan mentioned,” Regulus hesitates. “He said something at dinner, about Bellatrix. Did you hear it too?”

Pandora shakes her head, frowning. “He did tell me about it though. I know we haven’t spoken since Dumbledore’s, but I should have told you sooner—I don’t think you’ll get through this without getting the mark, Regulus. I don’t know if it’ll be that soon, though. You know how Bellatrix is.”

Regulus nods. He does know how Bellatrix is. He also doubts she’d lie about plans surrounding Voldemort.

“Did you like your gift?” Pandora asks, casually.

Regulus’ heart beats a little bit faster. He’s not sure if it’s real or not, but he swears the watch gets warmer in his robes. “It was nice. It would be even nicer if I understood how it works.”

Pandora shoots him a grin. “Couldn’t figure it out then?”

“Was I supposed to?”

Pandora shrugs. “No, not necessarily. I just thought you might. You’re the most clever one out of all of us.”

Regulus scoffs. “Do you want to tell me how it works? Or should I try myself?”

“I’ll tell you. Do you have it on you?”

Regulus fishes the watch out of his pocket, presenting it to Pandora flat on his palm. The silver glints despite the darkness of the Astronomy Tower. She picks it up gingerly before she begins explaining.

“It’s runic magic,” She tells him, stroking the face of the watch. “Although, I’m sure you figured as much. Runes were first used by Oracles looking for information. They’re a form of divination, but a little bit more respected.  ‘Rune’ literally translates to mystery, whisper, or secret. They’re said to hold information we can’t obtain on our own, or at least without struggle. If it wasn’t so dangerous for everyone, I would try to just give you the information myself, but that’s not exactly an option. Things could get messy very quickly that way. You know that.

They won’t spell things out for you, unfortunately. Your intuition will be necessary to properly use this watch—you’re going to have to put some real thought into it at times. If you do, it’ll work to guide you in the right direction. The results will vary, based on your choices. We all know the future isn’t exactly set in stone. You have free will and the choices you make will impact the path you’re on, even if the result is the same in the end, such as in the case of a prophecy.

If you’re in a situation where you find yourself at a crossroads and need help making a decision, use the watch. Take it out and ask it a question. Focus your mind when you do and think of the options you have and the tasks ahead. Just because it tells you something doesn’t mean you have to do it, though. In the end, your choices are yours. You can decide. One of the runes on there symbolizes intuition. If it’s pointing to that, it likely wants you to make your own choice because it won’t make much difference in the end.”

Regulus stares at the watch in Pandora’s hand. “It gets hot sometimes. Why?”

Pandora smiles slightly, looking down at the watch. “Sometimes, you won’t have to ask it questions, it’ll just tell you. It’s an intelligent thing. The hands of the watch will always be pointing at one of the runes. If it gets hot very quickly, something is happening or about to happen. Something vital to your future.”

Regulus nods, thinking about how it heated up in the library at the Potters’ house. “Why those runes?”

“I had this watch personally made in France by an expert in runic objects,” Pandora informs him. “She had me cast runes without thinking about any in particular. I just thought about you and what you’re tasked with. These are the runes that were brought forth by that. They should serve you as needed.” She hands the watch back to him. “This is an extremely rare and powerful magical object, Regulus. It will bring you success more quickly if used properly. Don’t let anyone see what it really is. Enchant it to look like a normal pocket watch, just to be safe.”

“I will,” Regulus nods, pocketing the watch. “Thank you, Pandora. It means a lot.”

“I needed to get back in your good graces somehow,” Pandora teases. “I am sorry about that by the way. I should have told you first, but based on how I saw it, I couldn’t.”

Regulus dips his chin in understanding. “Time magic is like that, it seems.”

“It is,” Pandora agrees.

“Pandora,” Regulus murmurs. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, you can, Reg.”

“What do you think about me becoming an Animagus?” Regulus asks, tilting his head at her. “Would it be useful?”

“What does the watch say?” 

Taking it back out of his pocket, the watch is warm. Very warm, but not burning hot like before. Again, it points to progress. He shows it to Pandora.

She looks at him, smiling satisfiedly. “I’d say you’re on the right track, Regulus.”

—

Pandora and Regulus walk back to the Slytherin dormitory not too long after that. It’s late and they have classes tomorrow, so the castle is asleep. Even when they get to the common room, there aren’t any stragglers left.

“Goodnight, Regulus,” Pandora says, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad we’re talking again.”

“Yeah, me too,” Regulus agrees. “Goodnight, Pandora.”

Back in his room, everyone is asleep. It’s just Evan, Barty, and Regulus in there tonight. They have another roommate, Burke, but he’s got a girlfriend and is rarely in the room. Regulus isn’t sure how he gets into the girl’s dormitory, but he doesn’t care enough to give it much thought.

Barty and Evan are curled up in Evan’s bed, fast asleep. It must have been hard, Regulus realizes, being apart the past month. Unlike Regulus, the two of them are probably quite happy to be back at Hogwarts.

Once he changes into his pyjamas and settles into bed, Regulus does his best to fall asleep. It hadn’t occurred to him that over the past month, he’s gotten used to sleeping with James. He struggles to fall asleep without the warmth and weight of him pressed to his side. Regulus hopes he had a good first night back.

Tossing and turning, he huffs, finally just laying on his back at staring at the top of his four-poster bed. He needs to lay low when it comes to the Gryffindors and continue making appearances with the Slytherins, but at what point can he start slipping away again, whether it be to see James or Sirius? It shouldn’t be an issue at night, really, considering he bunks with Evan and Barty and they wouldn’t tell a soul where he was, but some might notice if he’s missing in the morning. 

As irritating as it might be, it might be useful for Regulus to capitalize on the image that Barty has laid out for him as some kind of playboy. That way, he could escape questioning by claiming he was off with some girl. James won’t like it, he doesn’t think, but if it’s the best way to keep the two of them together, and safe, it might be worth it. Maybe Pandora will be willing to play a part in it.

He’s not sure if it’s fair of him to ask—or thinking of asking—a thing like that when he’s hardly been speaking to her, but tonight was good. Things felt normal between them. Also, there’s the fact that Pandora has never hesitated to help Regulus, even if he rarely asks her to. Maybe she’d appreciate him asking this time. 

Eventually, Regulus falls asleep. He doesn’t dream of much, and it’s a fitful sleep, but at least he sleeps.