come as you are

1

There is a soft knock at his bedroom door.

"Come in," Regulus calls, stacking the last of his books into his trunk.

He looks up in time to see Uncle Alphard step inside.

"Good morning," the man greets. "All done packing?"

Regulus nods. "Pretty much."

"You managed to fit all your books in that thing?" Alphard smiles.

Regulus feels an upward tug of his lips in return, and sheepishly admits, "Most of them. I’ve left a few, I won’t need them this term."

"I can always post them to you if you decide you want them," Alphard replies. He glanced at the trunk on the bed with a fond look. "We’re going to have to put a feather charm on that thing. All I can see is books from here. Have you packed any clothes at all?"

"I’ve squeezed them in," Regulus says, cheeks flamed. His parents always scolded him for the amount of books he was adamant to take to Hogwarts, and the collection has only grown since living with Alphard now that he can take novels as well as textbooks. Even better, he can now have novels written by Muggles.

Alphard has always been amused by Regulus’ book collection. The older man looked a step further than shocked when he helped Regulus move his stuff out of Grimmauld 12 months ago and found it to be more books than all of his other possessions combined.

"Spoken like a true Ravenclaw," Alphard muses. "You don’t have to leave for the train for another 40 minutes, if you’re almost finished packing, shall we have a pot of coffee before you go?"

Regulus nods. "Sure. I’ll be down in a second."

"Don’t try and bring your trunk down, I’ll cast the feather charm before we leave. Don’t want you breaking your back trying to lug that thing down the stairs," Alphard says, and then he smirks, "or worse, dropping and having your books damaged."

"That would be the true tragedy," Regulus smiles.

Alphard leaves as quietly as he came, and Regulus speeds through packing the last of his belongings and clipping the trunk shut.

Regulus moved in with Alphard a year ago after Sirius owled their uncle from the Potters last summer. His older brother had ran away after a particularly nasty fight with Walburga, and Regulus remembers being nothing but terrified out of his wits when he pushed a bruised and bloody Sirius through the floo the Potter’s to make sure his older brother had a chance of surviving. Regulus had stayed to try and ease the mess that had been made, but his mother clearly wasn’t done with the punishment despite the actual reason for losing her temper being out of sight and reach.

Alphard arrived two days later. Regulus remembers being upstairs when he arrived, curled in bed and staying as still as he could to not aggravate the healing wounds on his back and arms from his mothers relentless cutting hexes. The shouting woke Regulus from his hazy sleep, and minutes later, Alphard was bursting through his bedroom door. Regulus doesn't remember much. His mind was scattered from the pain and the aftereffects of the crutiatus curse. Alphard didn't say much when he came into Regulus' room. He just carried Regulus downstairs and into the fireplace, quickly resting Regulus down on the sofa in his own home. His uncle did wonders at healing Regulus, far better than Kreacher was able to. He was sore for days, but he was able to move around without being at risk of splitting his skin again. Most importantly, the crutiatus curse left no lasting damage. 

The first day at Alphard’s house, Regulus doesn’t remember a thing. He was knocked out with sleep and pain potions, and it was only after he’d come too and was coherent enough to drink a cup of tea that Alphard explained what happened.

Apparently, despite how roughed up and half dead Sirius was when Regulus dragged his body to the floo days before, his older brother remembered what happened. Sirius wrote to Alphard the morning after, apparently as soon as he woke up in the Potter household, to say that Walburga and Orion had gone too far this time, that he’d ran away to the Potter’s and was safe, but that Regulus was still at Grimmauld Place. Alphard had come to the house as soon as he received the owl, stunning his parents before getting Regulus out and into the safety of his own home.

Apparently, while Regulus was sleeping off the healing and being carefully watched by Alphard’s house elf Tibby, Alphard went back to Grimmauld Place to negotiate with Walburga and Orion. Regulus was more than surprised when Alphard admitted that he got Walburga and Orion to agree to stay silent about the loss of both their children, that Sirius was to stay unharmed at the Potters and Regulus was to live with Alphard, and no one was to know about the new arrangements in exchange for Walburga and Orion’s safety. Alphard managed to trade their silence for the threat of going to the Ministry about how they treated Sirius and Regulus. His parents must have been more worried about being found guilty and the prospect of the Noble House of Black’s name being dragged through the ground than keeping a Heir.

Thus, 12 months later, no one apart from the Potters, Sirius, Regulus and Alphard know about what happened, and the fact that neither of them live at Grimmauld Place anymore.

Even this long after, Regulus isn’t sure what he’s more grateful for: the fact that he no longer has to live with Walburga’s hex’s and Orion’s cane, or the fact that despite the huge life change, no one is aware of it.

Regulus has always thrived to live under the radar. It’s why he grew up grateful that he was the second child and none of the Heir attention was on him as a child, because the idea of attention makes his skin feel like it’s being attacked by a thousand crawling ants. He spent years making himself merely Sirius’ shadow at family events and Yule parties, hiding behind his brother and slipping into the corners of the room whenever he could.

When he started Hogwarts and sorted into Ravenclaw, he was thrown into the limelight for weeks. Everyone was looking at him, talking about him. It was usual, he should have expected it really, being the youngest member of the Noble House of Black and the second to break the mould and not go into Slytherin. The Slytherin’s looked at him like he was a traitor for not being sorted into their house, the Ravenclaws looked at him like he didn’t belong with them, and the rest looked at him like something to spectate over.

The first weeks of Hogwarts were the worst of Regulus’ life. Sure, Sirius was happy for him, but his parents sent howler after howler, exploding in the Great Hall. It got to the point, barely lasting a week into his first term, that Regulus stopped going to the Great Hall for his meals. Narcissa found him later, her attempts at comfort futile, but she took him to the Hogwarts kitchens during meal times so he could get something to eat without being harassed by howlers from his parents and whispers from the students.

The revelation of him going into Ravenclaw died down after a while. Regulus settled into a safe routine, determined to keep himself hidden again. He kept his social circle to one person, spent minimal time in the Great Hall, and if he wasn’t in class, he was in the far corner of the library or in his dorm.

When Alphard rescued him from Grimmauld, Regulus’ first worry was the impact it was going to have once people found out. Even if his uncle did it to save himself and the infamous family name, Alphard granted Regulus his deepest wish: peace.

Alphard has the coffee ready when Regulus makes it downstairs. He finds his uncle outside on the back porch, already seated in his usual seat, and mugs filled and steaming on the table. The older man doesn’t look at him when he sits down, but instead is focusing on the flowers Regulus and Tibby recently planted over the summer at the back of the garden.

"Are you excited?" He asks. "Sixth year is an important one. You’re starting your N.E.W.T.S."

"I know," Regulus replies, picking up one of the cups and taking a tentative sip. "I am excited, though."

"Have you thought about what studies you’re going to take?" Alphard asks after a delicate drink of his own coffee. "You can take five of course, but judging by your O.W.L results, you could take more if you wish."

Regulus already knew what N.E.W.T.S he was going to take, as he did rather well on everything apart from History of Magic and Divination, but he already knew he was going to drop those even before he took the O.W.L.S.

"I’ve got some in mind," Regulus replies.

"Try not to overwork yourself, lad," Alphard says, though not harshly. "Hogwarts is supposed to be the best years of your life, hence you’re meant to at least enjoy some of it. I’d hate to see you spend the next two years overwhelmed with studying that you can’t have fun once in a while."

"I enjoy studying."

"I know," the older man smiles. "I admire you for it. Your O.W.L results are not something to be sniffed at. You’re a very smart young man. N.E.W.T.S should be a breeze for you."

"I don’t know about that," Regulus murmurs.

"I don’t quite understand your wish to stay just above average in class, but if your results are anything to go by, then you’re going to flourish through your next two years," Alphard says. "I’m sure the professors were as pleased as I was when they saw them."

"Hopefully," Regulus says, drinking his coffee to avoid talking about it further.

"I told Sirius about your results," Alphard admits, and Regulus snaps to stare at him. The man looks slightly remorseful, though not at all threatened by Regulus’ wide eyed glare. "He asked various times, said you weren’t replying to his letters. He said he was proud."

"Oh, yeah," Regulus grumbles. "And the rest?"

"Well, he called you some other things I don’t believe were to be conceived negatively," Alphard smiles. "His jealousy showed slightly, but he was certainly pleased for you."

"He could have done just as good if he’d got his head down once or twice before his own O.W.L.S."

"Don’t sell yourself short, Regulus," his uncle chides. "You did very well. Sirius probably wouldn’t have achieved as well as you even if he tried. You’re brother is smart in his own way, but we all know he has more of a knack for practical over written."

Yes, Regulus knows this. He knew it the moment he figured out when he was 14 that his brother and his merry band of half-wits managed to complete successful animagus transformations in their fifth year. Regulus wasn’t surprised they managed it successfully. Sirius and James are incredibly smart, despite their disruptive nature in class.

Sirius has playfully teased Regulus for years about being a nerd, and it only intensified when he was sorted into Ravenclaw. Regulus doesn’t know what Sirius was more happy about, that his little brother wasn’t sorted into Slytherin like their parents wished, or that he could brag about how he knew Regulus was a swot since the moment the youngest Black learned to read.

Uncle Alphard doesn’t accompany him to Kings Cross station. To keep their home situation secret, it’s easier for Regulus to turn up alone instead of with his seemingly believed estranged uncle. No one seems to be fazed by him not turning up with his parents, as Walburga and Orion haven’t travelled with Sirius and Regulus to the station for years, always requesting Kreacher do it to avoid being surrounded by muggle borns and half-bloods. There was a swirl of gossip that came about when Sirius turned up with the Potters for the first time last September, but thankfully the limelight stayed on Sirius as by this point, Regulus has done well in achieving mostly anonymity at school now.

Regulus speeds through the station and onto the platform with his feather-light charmed trunk and shoulder bag. On the platform, he makes his way through the students gaping at the train and saying goodbye to their families. Regulus was like that once, for about five seconds in Sirius’ first year when he saw it for the first time. When Regulus saw it when he was starting his own first year at Hogwarts, he was too busy making sure his mothers nails didn’t break the skin from where she was gripping his shoulder to even gape at the magnificent red express.

Now, Regulus isn’t fazed. He’s more focused on finding an empty carriage and read his most recent book than looking at the environment around him. He’s seen and travelled on the train for years, though he understands the first years, and more importantly, the muggle-born students, who stare at the train like the stars have fallen from the sky.

He finds a compartment easily enough, hefts his trunk onto the top luggage rail before settling in the corner by the window and pulling out his new book on dragon species from his shoulder bag.

He manages to get 10 minutes of privacy before the compartment door slides open and the familiar pearly blonde hair and slightly worn yellow shoes of his best friend, Pandora, comes stepping inside.

"Regulus!" She beams, dragging her trunk in. "How was your summer? I’d assume it would have been incredibly busy considering you barely replied to my letters."

Regulus lays his book open and flat in his lap. "My summer was fine, thank you. Me and Alphard went to Scotland for a week and they have fantastic book shops up there."

Pandora hums, dropping down in the seat opposite him after she’s shoved her trunk in the stores above their heads. Outside, the station begins to move away from them as the train begins it’s journey.

"Sounds riveting. I’m sure you got more books than justifiable," she smirks. "Though, that doesn’t sound too busy to write back to your best friend more frequently than once a month."

Regulus looks out the window.

"I then had to spend lots of time reading the books I bought," he tries, but Pandora doesn’t look impressed.

"Of course," she replies dryly, though her smile doesn’t falter. She’s not really mad, not now she doesn’t have to worry about him during holidays anymore. She used to look torn between hugging him and smacking him when they met again on the train on the first day of Hogwarts for the first four years due to Regulus’ silence normally promising a catastrophic start to the term. His lack of letters normally translated to the prospect of brewing pain potions and bruise balms in the first few days to try and ease the aches and pains still littering his body from his parents.

She doesn’t have to worry about that now. When she found out, Pandora was more pleased he got out of Grimmauld than he was. It ruined her the first time she realised what happened behind the closed doors of his family home, even more so when Regulus admitted to her nothing could be done about it.

Turns out, all it took was Sirius nearly dying and owling in panic for Regulus for Alphard to fix the problem.

"And your O.W.L. results?" She asks. "I asked in the last five letters I sent you, but you seemingly have avoided the question for as long as you could."

Regulus refrains from the want to sink down further in the train cushions. Alphard had done a good job of undoing the originally believed ingrained manners that Walburga and Orion had drilled into him as soon as he could stand on his own, allowing Regulus to slouch sometimes when they were in private and curl up on the sofa instead of sitting like a stiff plank of wood, but in public places like the train, it still felt wrong to do anything but act proper.

"Well," Regulus shifts in the seat, thumb fiddling with the corner of his book cover. "I got O’s in charms, transfiguration, runes and potions, E’s in defence, herbology and arithmancy, and I got A’s in muggle studies and divination, but that’s fine because I’m going to drop them anyways."

"So, perfect results then," she huffs, smirking.

"No such thing as perfect, Pandora," he murmurs.

Regulus and Pandora met on their first day of Hogwarts. Regulus had managed to get out of sitting in Sirius’ compartment, despite his brothers determination to make his friends become Regulus’ friends. He’d managed to find his own compartment after practically sliding out under his brothers arm and scurrying down the train corridor. Pandora arrived minutes later, and if Regulus was braver, he would have told her that day to get lost like he wanted to.

But he didn’t, and somehow, on the first journey to Hogwarts they both managed to connect over their woes of growing up in pureblood households that have strange opinions of muggle-borns and half-bloods.

Pandora got sorted into Hufflepuff. Clearly it wasn’t that hard to decide, as the hat had barely touched her scalp before it shouted the word out for all the Great Hall to hear. Apparently, like Sirius, she wasn’t surprised when Regulus got sorted into Ravenclaw.

Pandora has always been very vocal in her opinion about Regulus’ studies. She seems to have gotten into her head that Regulus is just short of a genius, intelligence beyond and above their peers and isn’t shy about scolding Regulus for 'wasting his potential'. She doesn’t seem to be able to understand Regulus’ wish for peace and privacy, and the easiest way to do so is to fly under the radar, even if it does mean that he sometimes causes some of his classroom marks to not stand out high above the rest.

Yes, Regulus did well on his O.W.L.S, but he only did that to ensure he could take those subjects as N.E.W.T.S.

Under the radar he plans to stay for the next two years until he can graduate and leave it all behind. He can kiss goodbye the unwanted attention, the stares and the pressure of being a disgrace to the Noble House of Black. He can go somewhere quiet, open a bookshop with just enough staff to keep at the front so Regulus doesn’t have to converse with customers.

His quiet life is going exactly to plan.

Pandora spends a while talking about her O.W.L. results, and then about how her older brother, Evan, had lots of his friends round over summer and one of them, the infamous Barty Crouch Jr, apparently ruined her vegetable patch and got sent home by her parents.

If it wasn’t for their last name and matching white blonde hair, Regulus would have never pegged Pandora and Evan to be siblings. They’re two apples that couldn’t have fallen from further trees. Evan is everything that embodies a true, slimey Slytherin, and yet Pandora is as soft and kind as they come.

"I have to get to the Prefect meeting," Pandora sighs, riffling through her bag and a moment later, pulling out a hairband. "Did you not get prefect?"

"No," Regulus replies.

Pandora narrows her eyes, slowing in her expertise speed of plaiting her long hair. "I’ll rephrase, did you get given prefect and send back the badge because you didn’t want to do it?"

"I think it’s hardly a surprise that I haven’t willingly volunteered myself to participate in such an activity," Regulus replies.

Truly, Regulus does believe it was a stupid question. Of course Regulus didn’t want to be a prefect. It enticed everything he thrived to avoid: social interaction, meetings, a standout badge on his robes, extra duties that wouldn’t bring him one step closer to a peaceful, quiet life owning a bookshop.

Prefect was hardly a staple requirement to go into shop owning.

"Well, I’m off," she says, standing up and straightening out her clothes. The plait sits down her back like a long pale rope. "I’m leaving my trunk and stuff here. I can’t imagine the meeting will take the whole train ride and if they want everyone to sit there the whole time, I’ll ask if I can come back."

"Okay."

"Don’t miss me too much," Pandora smiles.

"I won’t," Regulus replies, voice fond as he watches her go.

Pandora comes back just in time to change into her robes before the train pulls into Hogsmeade. Regulus isn’t surprised, mostly because despite Pandora’s assurance she’d come back, Regulus knew the moment she got to talking with other students she’d be hooked the entire ride. How he managed to bag a friend that is the definition of a social butterfly compared to his practically concrete exterior is beyond him.

He frequently wonders why she continues to hangout with him, especially after all these years when she’s continued to expand her social circle and seems to get along with anything and everything, and yet Regulus’ social boundary extends to her, Alphard and Sirius only.

He shoots down her apologies as soon as she tries to spit them out. Regulus is hardly complaining about having the carriage to himself to read in undisturbed silence. He loves Pandora more than the sun that rises every dawn and settles every dusk, but he will always appreciate the peace he gets when he’s alone.

The warmth of the Great Hall was something Regulus has always appreciated. While living at Grimmauld, the familiar hundreds of candle lights and look of the stone castle walls brought Regulus a comfort that his home in London never could. Hogwarts was somewhere that Regulus felt safe, a place away from his parents and the standards of the Blacks. He could just be Regulus at Hogwarts, could hide in corners with his novels or alone in the library doing his homework. Since living with Alphard, Regulus hasn’t had to use Hogwarts as a safe runaway, but it still holds the same comfort.

Regulus and Pandora go their separate ways with a simple nod, and he watches as she goes bouncing over to the Hufflepuff table and dropping down between two girls already waving her over. Regulus makes his own way to the Ravenclaw table, and makes sure to get a seat on the end of the table closest to the door and slightly away from the rest of the students.

It’s not that Regulus doesn’t like his housemates. They’re all pleasant, or at least, they have been since they got over their suspicion of having a Black in their house. Regulus hasn’t had a run in with any of them, it’s just he’s never made any attempt to engage with them either. The less people, the better.

It’s become a bit of a life Moto.

The hall is loud, as it always is, and particularly on the first day of the year. Regulus sat on the side that gave him clear view of the Gryffindor table, and he instantly spots the familiar face.

Sirius is practically slung around Lupin’s shoulder, holding him so close it’s like he’s trying to merge their bodies into one. Regulus has always found it interesting how Sirius practically thrives off the touch and physicality of others. There is rarely a time that you will see Sirius without his arm around someone, or tucked into Lupin’s side, or jumping on the back of one of the Quidditch team in the corridors. Since moving out of Grimmauld last year, Sirius seems to have come out of his shell like someone desperately breaking through the surface of water. He’s done well, Regulus will admit, and he’s happy for his brother. Sirius is getting to live the life he’s always wanted, the freedom he’s always craved.

Although, Regulus can’t say that’s he’s overly fond of his brothers friends, despite how much they seem to have taken care of Sirius when Regulus couldn’t. Gryffindor’s by nature seem to be loud and brash, all of them bold and proud. They’re probably lovely, but they’re almost everything in a person Regulus strives to avoid. They’re touchy and noisy, chatty and perky all the time. Sirius fits in like a puzzle piece, but Regulus couldn’t slot in even if he tried or wanted to.

Regulus has never really engaged with Sirius’ friends. They all seemed to catch on quickly that he wanted to be alone after he was sorted, and none of them seem eager to pester him like Sirius continuously does.

Regulus has always been someone happy to observe from a distance, and it’s worked in his favour when it comes to people like James Potter.

James with the wild dark hair, glowing charisma and huge eyes behind his round glasses. The boy who always seems to be smiling unless he’s defending first years against Slytherins or playing in a Quidditch match. Regulus has felt infatuated with James since Regulus saw Sirius hanging off the boys arm at his first dinner at Hogwarts.

Of course, Regulus will never allow anything to happen. He doesn’t have time, or the personality inside him to even fathom having that kind of interaction. Being Pandora’s friend can be exhausting as it is, he can’t bare the idea of adding more.

But he can watch.

He’s always been happy to just admire from afar.

Regulus opens his book when he sits down, a seemingly clear and so far perfectly working method to let his housemates know he’s not up for chit-chat. He reads while the first year sorting and Dumbledore gives his notorious speech, tuning it out with expertise practice. It’s only when the food appears on the table does he allow himself to pull himself out of his reading for long enough to put some vegetables on his plate to pick at as he reads.

He’s halfway through his plate when someone drops down on the bench opposite him. He doesn’t look up, figuring it’s a first year who got bored of sitting down the busy end and come up to the quiet side for a little bit of respite.

Suddenly, a hand slaps down on the pages of his book. Regulus jumps back in surprise, almost falling off his seat.

Sirius grins across at him.

"Hello, rabbit," Sirius greets. Regulus hates that nickname. It came about when Sirius became obsessed with the idea that Regulus' initials spell R.A.B, and with the added component of Regulus always being a tiny slither of a boy, Sirius started calling him 'rabbit' when he was younger.

Unfortunately, the nickname has stuck.

Regulus doesn’t reply. Silently, his eyes flick down to his book, where Sirius’ greasy fingers are still laying on the pages, then back up to Sirius’ eyes in a silent statement of get your filthy hands of my book please.

Sirius must understand, because a moment later, he’s snatching his hand back.

"So," his brother goes on, picking a grape out of on of the bowls and popping it in his mouth, "Good summer?"

"It was alright," Regulus nods.

"Alphard still treating you nicely?"

"He’s our uncle, Sirius."

"Yes, well, it’s not like the rest of our family are saints, so thought I’d check," Sirius grumbles as he chews his grape. Regulus grimaces at the sight. "He told me about your O.W.L. results. Fucking knew you’d smash them, you little swot."

"Yes," Regulus murmurs. "Uncle Alphard is very pleased."

"Hope you are too," Sirius laughs. "Let me guess too, you’re taking them all as N.E.W.T.S too? That’s what, six subjects?"

"Seven, actually," Regulus admits sheepishly.

Sirius barks a laugh, leaning back. "Fucking hell, Reg. You’re gonna be swamped with homework if you do seven subjects."

"That’s fine," Regulus shrugs, looking back down at his book. With any luck, if he goes back to reading and ignores Sirius for long enough, his brother will take the hint and go away.

"Of course it is," Sirius replies. "Are you going to ask how my summer was?"

Regulus sighs, closing his eyes with exasperation. Sirius is clearly not going to get the hint then. He closes his book with a thump, looking at his brother in what he hopes can be translated as a you’re annoying me look.

"How was your summer?"

"Jesus, don’t sound so excited about it," Sirius snarks, and Regulus frowns. Since when did he start using terms like 'Jesus'?. "Well, as you asked so nicely, I had a lovely summer. The Potter’s were great, and Moony came over loads. All four of us went to Moony’s house in Wales, which was quite cool. Couldn’t understand a thing his dad said though, his accent is worse than Moony’s—"

"Great," Regulus interrupts, scooping his book off the table and putting it in his bag. "I have to go."

Sirius sighs. "Reg. . ."

"It’s fine," Regulus says, shaking his head. It’s nothing Sirius has done, he’s happy to hear that his brother had a good summer. Regulus just doesn’t want people to think that Sirius talking to him is a green light for others to do so. It’ll be bad if the Ravenclaws think it, and even worse if the Gryffindors or Slytherins think it too.

"You don’t have to leave," Sirius pleads. "I’ll fuck off back to my table. Sit down, Reg. Finish your dinner and—"

"I’ve eaten enough," Regulus replies, flashing Sirius what he hopes is a convincing smile. "I’ve got snacks in my trunk if I get hungry later. I’ll see you round, Sirius."

And with that, Regulus escapes the Great Hall.

— tbc.