come as you are

7

News travels fast around Hogwarts. It always has, good or bad, interesting or boring, anything worth talking about undoubtably spreads amongst the students like wildfire. It’s no surprise that’s the way it works in a school overcrowded with teenagers. Anything can be gossip, anything can be spreadable, and everything can be made into something to talk about.

Regulus has been a victim of this before. When he first came to Hogwarts, he was the talk of the town for not being sorted into Slytherin. When Sirius ran away from home, Regulus by association became another topic of gossip.

The unwanted attention from such travesties have helped mould Regulus into the person he is today: invisible and unnoticeable.

If no one sees him, they can’t talk about him.

Of course, he should have expected there to be a hitch in his routine. Things have been going too well, the space between him and the limelight too great for too long.

Regulus first notices the glances when he’s in the Great Hall having breakfast on Monday. He’s been up since four, having woken up needing the bathroom and ultimately decided it wasn’t worth going back to sleep when he had his new book to read. By the time seven o’clock rolled around, Regulus was quite hungry, so he made his way down to the hall knowing it would still be quiet enough that he can eat and read without too much disruption.

Regulus is so engrossed in his book that he doesn’t initially notice the gradual influx of students coming in. Tables begin to fill up around him as he reads, sips his coffee and slowly makes his way through a bowl of porridge. It’s only after he’s finished eating and finally looks up that he realises the hall is a lot busier than he can cope with so early in the morning.

It’s then that he spots a couple of people from Gryffindor looking at him, glancing away as soon as they’re caught. Regulus barely refrains a frown of confusion, instead opting for simple leaving as planned. He stands, tucking his book under his arm, and then he notices some people from Ravenclaw looking at him too. Feeling more uncomfortable than ever, he climbs out from the table and walks out. As he’s coming through the doors, a group of Slytherins pass him, muttering and side-eyeing him.

Cheeks hot and skin feeling like it’s crawling, Regulus quickly dashes into the bathrooms to check he hasn’t got something on his face or his hair isn’t a different colour as a consequence of a prank.

When he looks in the mirror, the person looking back at him looks normal. His hair is black as curly as normal. There’s no food or smudge on his face. His features are normal, and when he checks his robes, there’s nothing unusual about then to qualify the looks and mutterings.

Confused, Regulus decides to hide in the library until classes start and put it down to a coincidence.

Only, as the day drags on, Regulus decides it’s not a coincidence.

People look at him as he makes his way down the corridors between classes. His peers glance over their shoulders at him in class. Mutterings and murmurs seem to follow him like a haunting ghost trailing behind him.

It’s as if someone is shining a spotlight on him the entire day. Every eye catches him, every gaze and spectacle of attention. Suddenly, everyone seems to notice him.

He spends lunch in the library, tucked in a corner. He’s so distracted by the feeling of ants crawling over his skin from the morning that it takes him almost the entire time there to calm down enough and only manages 10 minutes of sufficient reading time.

He gets to his next class before the majority of students begin to disperse into the corridors. It’s transfiguration with Hufflepuffs, so at least he has the comfort of Pandora in this class.

He’s engrossed in rewriting his potions notes from the class before lunch when students begin to join him at their tables. He doesn’t notice Pandora coming in until she’s sitting down beside him.

"Hey, Reg!" The bubbly Hufflepuff greets, unpacking her books out onto the desk. "Good to see you still alive."

Regulus doesn’t look up from his parchment as he replies, tone deadpan and uninterested, "I saw you Friday, Pans."

"Did you have a good time on Saturday?" Pandora asks. "I’m assuming you did, even if you did end up doing your usual hibernation routine yesterday."

"It was alright."

"That snowball fight looked like fun."

Regulus’ head snaps up sharply, throat constricting painfully with panic.

"What?"

Pandora raises an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"You…" he clears his croaking throat, "you saw that?"

"Of course," she replies, chuckling. "You did it in the middle of the high street. Everyone saw, my darling, and it was fantastic, I might add."

It suddenly makes sense; the entire morning, the looks, the whispers, the attention. Everyone is talking about him because of that day at Hogsmeade. Of course, how could he possibly forget: he was out with James, with his brother, with the bloody Marauders and all their loud glory. People are talking about him because he’s been stupid enough to give them something to talk about, something to notice about him.

And now he has their attention, how close are people going to look to start seeing other things? What else are they going to notice? To uncover? How far are they going to go to uncover the blanket of secrecy he’s been working for years to obtain?

Everything has potential to come out now.

The Slytherins aren’t going to hesitate to take the bait, to prey on him like a injured deer to a lion, to mock him once again for Sirius’ public departure from the Black family.

The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs are going to become curious about the quiet student they share common room and classes with.

The Gryffindors are going to want to know about the little brother to their infamous housemate.

Regulus’ world is officially about to end in one single colossal explosion.

Boom.

"What’s wrong?" Pandora asks. "You’ve gone pale and you’re making the face that means you’re about to have a nervous breakdown."

The hand holding his quill trembles as Regulus hoarsely asks, "Everyone is talking about it, aren’t they?"

Pandora frowns. "About what?"

"Saturday. Me with James and Sirius. The snowball fight."

"I think people were just surprised to see you there," Pandora shrugs easily, relaxed, as if there isn’t anything to be worried about with this. "Your brother and his friends having a loud snowball fight wasn’t a surprise, I think people were just perplexed to see or hear about you being there too. You don’t make too many public appearances, Reg, so it’s no shock really that people noticed a little fifth member with them."

Regulus feels frozen, yet his insides feel like they’re quaking. His heart is hammering, the sounds around him blurring out as his ears fill with the sound of his blood rushing to his head.

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no—

When he leaves the classroom, he’s more uncomfortable than before. Pandora confirmed his worries, confirmed the reason why everyone is suddenly muttering and looking at him. He spent too much time in first and second year at Hogwarts being stared at for not going into Slytherin, being pushed by students in green and tripped in the hallways. He won’t go back to that again.

The attention doesn’t get any better. The next day, everyone is still looking at him. Pandora tries to reassure him, in kinder words, that he’s being paranoid, that it’s not as bad as he thinks.

She doesn’t understand. Every glance in his direction is like a bucket of spiders has been dumped on him. Every step in the corridor feels like a war battle drum announcing his arrival. Everyone is seeing him, and he can’t handle it, and it’s all because of stupid James Potter!

So, naturally, in retaliation, Regulus does the only thing he can think to do: he isolates.

He goes to his assigned classes, keeps his head down, speaks to no one. When he’s not in class, he’s in his dorm room. He avoids the library, the Great Hall, and the common room. He doesn’t go to the astronomy tower, or the grounds outside, he doesn’t even risk going down to the kitchens unless it’s in the twilight hours when everyone is meant to be in their dorms.

Any unnecessary moment outside of the safety of his dorm room and closed curtains around his bed is unnecessary chances for people to make their advances towards him.

The only person he speaks to is Pandora when Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw share classes, and even then, he barely acknowledges her and only speaks about the content of the lessons.

It’s Friday; five days since Hogwarts woke up and remembered Regulus Black exists. Regulus has done well avoiding any and all contact with any human being apart from the peer he sits next to in class. He hasn’t been to the library since Monday, or eaten in the Great Hall, or spoken to anyone other than Pandora in class. He’s tired, sleep not coming easy when his mind is filled with questions and dread of what people might be doing. The lack of adequate food is beginning to take it’s toll, considering he hasn’t had a proper meal apart from toast since Monday too. This isn’t the first time Regulus has done something like this, and he has no doubts he wouldn’t be feeling this bad if the anxiety coursing his veins wasn’t making everything feel so much worse.

By the time the last class before lunch comes around, Regulus is feeling pretty sorry for himself. He’s dragging his feet as he makes his way into McGonagall's classroom that is unsurprisingly empty as Regulus is more than 20 minutes early. There is a painful tension in his head that’s been slowly growing since early that morning, pulsating behind his eyes softly but with the promise of becoming blinding soon.

Ignoring the looming, paralysing headache, Regulus gets out his books and begins to read the next chapter of his Ancient Runes textbook to pass the time. The week of isolation has made him so caught up with rewriting class notes and studying that he’s having to read months ahead to give himself something to work towards.

Small mercies, he supposes. His privacy is crumbling before his very eyes but he’s excessively ahead of his classwork.

Pandora arrives with a flurry of students. She makes a beeline when she spots him, practically jogging to get to their table. She looks as elegant and prim as always, but she’s frowning at him as she sits down.

"Hey, Reggie," she murmurs. "You okay?"

Regulus nods in reply, eyes focused on his book.

"I don’t believe you."

He doesn’t look up.

"Okay."

She sighs beside him, "Reg—"

"Pandora, please," he interrupts softly, shakily. He looks up and meets her eyes, hoping his expression is as blank as he tries to make it. "Drop it."

"No," she shakes her head immediately, her blonde hair bouncing. "I’m not going to drop it, Regulus, because I’m worried about you. You’re doing your thing again."

Despite knowing exactly what she’s referring to, he asks, "What 'thing’ exactly?"

She rolls her eyes. "You’re avoiding everyone one, you’re not coming to the library or the hall, you won’t speak to me outside of class, and you’re hiding in your dorm room every chance you get. You look like shit, you’re clearly not sleeping or eating and I don’t even want to know when the last time was that you had a proper shower—"

"I showered last night."

"Well, you look like shit."

Regulus bristles. He may look a little bit worse for wear, but he most certainly does not look dirty.

She tilts her head at him, and Regulus can feel the pity oozing off her. He fucking hates that. He doesn’t need to be pitied.

"I know being alone is your style, and I’ve always respected that, but Reg… you’re even avoiding me now."

"I’ve avoided you before."

"Not like this."

"I have."

"You’re scaring me."

"I’m fine."

"You’re not fine!"

Regulus rolls his eyes. "Stop it. You’re making a scene."

She huffs, staring at him for a few moments. Regulus can see her battling within herself if to let it go or keep going at him.

Then, she sighs heavily and nods.

"Fine," she grumbles, snatching her books out of her bag. "Fine. You’re all good. Nothing to worry about. You’re not having a melt down at all."

Regulus nods, looking to the front as McGonagall comes in and begins to get her desk ready. "Exactly."

"Want to come to the library after class then?"

"No thank you," he replies sharply. "I have plans."

"Doing what?"

"None of your business."

"You better get over this soon, Regulus. I miss my library buddy."

"Are Lupin and Evans not enough for you now?"

"Of course they’re not!" she hisses. "They’re not you, Regulus."

He looks at her then, meeting her eyes and feeling his angry resolve crumbling.

Regulus is a selfish person. He won’t deny the fact: he likes his privacy, he likes the quiet, he can’t stand being around loud people, and his ideal time is with his nose in a book with no distractions. Regulus struggles so much with obtaining this level of peace in his life that he is willing to hurt people to get it. He’s rude, he’s abrupt, he leaves rooms and walks away from people to get away from it.

Pandora is used to it, and she never complains or takes it to heart when Regulus walks away or declines plans. They’ve been friends since that day on the train when they were 11, and she’s always accepted his short fuse for social contact, like he’s always accepted she desire to practically immerse herself in company. They’re two completely different people, only attracted together by their thirst for knowledge and curiosity, but that doesn’t mean she deserves the walls he puts around himself, and she definitely doesn’t deserve to be ignored for the whole week.

Pandora has no struggle with finding company. Everyone loves her, everyone welcomes her. There is never a moment that Pandora needs to spend alone, because her social circle is so large and warm that people swarm around her like moths to a light. Regulus didn’t think him going M.I.A this week would affect her: she has plenty of other people. He didn’t realise that just because Pandora has other people, that him not being around would affect her.

"I’m sorry," he murmurs.

"Don’t apologise," she replies, shaking her head. "You don’t need to be sorry, Regulus. I don’t want you to be sorry or feel bad, I just want you to let me help."

"There isn’t anything you can do," he confesses.

"Maybe not," she shrugs, "but don’t shut me out just because you’re angry at everyone else."

His shoulders slump with defeat.

"Okay."

"Good," she smiles. "So, will you join me this lunch time? We can get food and go eat by the greenhouse."

"It’ll be cold," he tries, but knows it’s futile.

"Nice try," she grins. "We both know warming charms, so you have no excuse, Black."

He doesn’t get a chance to argue at the idea anymore as their conversation dies with McGonagall starting the class.

The simply action of speaking to Pandora again manages to lift Regulus’ spirit slightly. Surprising, as his entire focus this week has been regaining his solidarity and invisibility has made him unconsciously miss his best friends company.

"Shall we get food from the kitchens?" Pandora asks as they leave the classroom.

Regulus nods. That would be best, he figures. Stepping foot in the Great Hall is not an option at the moment.

The corridors clear quickly as it’s lunch time. Pandora and Regulus are half way to the kitchens, discussing a recent potions essay, when they’re abruptly interrupted.

"Hey, Black!" Someone shouts, and Regulus doesn’t need to turn around to know exactly who it is.

"Ignore them," Pandora murmurs to him, her hand squeezing his momentarily.

"Oi, Black! Regulus Black!" They shout again, getting closer, and if their voices getting louder isn’t enough of a hint that they’re following them, the sounds of their steps are enough. "Don’t ignore us!"

"Regulus—" Pandora starts again, but is cut off by the shrill, booming sound of the shouts behind.

"Hey! Black!"

Fed up and becoming increasingly annoyed, Regulus suddenly stops and spins around. Barty Crouch Jr and Evan Rosier are a few steps behind them, stalking like hyenas approaching their prey. Pandora stops beside him, and Regulus can practically taste her displeasure.

Evan may be her brother, but they certainly do not have a good relationship.

"What do you want?" Regulus asks.

"Regulus," Barty grins, wolfish and manic. "Long time no speak."

Sighing, Regulus repeats, "What do you want, Crouch?"

"Nothing at all," Barty shrugs, feigning innocence, and if it wasn’t for his history, personality, and the way he’s eyeing Regulus like a nice meal, it would look like a genuine, pleasant confrontation in the corridor. "I just wanted to remind myself of what a blood-traitor looks like."

How original, Regulus thinks. As if he hasn’t been called that before.

"Well, you’ve got your fill," Regulus replies. "Now piss off."

Regulus begins to turn, when Barty whistles sharply.

"Not so fast, blood-traitor" he whistles, eyes glinting with mania. "I’m not done yet."

"I am," Regulus hisses, "so excuse me—"

"It’s exactly what I imagined, Evan," Barty grins, nudging Rosier in the arm, who’s looking as equally insane and animalistic. "Look at it. Pathetic. Worthless. Disgusting. No wonder his brother got kicked out, this little runt looks just like him. Blood-traitors, the pair of them. Scum of the fucking Earth."

Evan chuckles, eyes flicking him up and down. "You’re a stain to the world, Black."

"Will you two piss off!" Pandora snaps. "Stop it!"

Barty barks a laugh, cooing as if Pandora is something cute like a puppy to mew at. "Oh look, Evan, your little sister is protecting the little cunt. Or has she corrupted her too?"

"Fuck you, Crouch!" Pandora snarls. "And fuck you too, Evan! Leave us alone!"

"Fine," Barty chuckles, shrugging. His eyes flick to Regulus, cold and deadly. "Don’t want to infest ourselves any further. You’re a disease, Black, you know that?"

"Fuck off," Regulus seethes.

"What did you say?" Barty hisses, stepping towards him. "Did the little blood-traitor say something?"

"Leave us alone before I rip your jugular out of your tiny little neck," Regulus hisses, straightening his shoulders at a futile attempt to not seem as small as he feels.

Barty chuckles again. "Fine. Come on, Rosier."

As the two of them pass, they nudge Pandora out of the way and roughly shove Regulus in the shoulders, cackling as they go. It’s not till they’re round the corner and out of sight that Regulus allows himself to be consumed by the events of what happened.

This is exactly why he doesn’t like attention. This is why he flies under the radar. He tried to hide in the room growing up to stay away from his parents, and it was at a young age he learned that attention brings no reward. When Walburga and Orion noticed him at Grimmauld, it ended in shouts and hits and hexes. It’s the same at Hogwarts. Regulus spent one afternoon with the Gryffindors and now Barty and Evan remember him and his lack of Slytherin loyalty.

He can feel Pandora’s eyes on him, watching for the reaction that isn’t going to come. Regulus is not one for throwing fits, or screaming, or crying. He isn’t going to make a scene, Pandora doesn’t deserve to see that.

Instead, he’s going to do exactly what he’s been doing all week and has caused him no harm.

He’s going to his dormitory and Pandora can shove her lunch behind the greenhouse where the sun doesn’t shine.

"Reg—" she starts, but Regulus shakes his head.

"Leave me alone," he says, already walking away.

Pandora rushes to catch up with him, pleading, "Regulus, please—"

"I said leave me alone!" He snaps, spinning around to face her.

She stops abruptly, blinking in surprise. She looks like she’s about to argue, tell him again that she wants to help, that he shouldn’t be alone.

Don’t, he begs. Leave me alone. Go. Go. Go go go go—

"Okay," Pandora nods, looking like she’s twitching to do anything else. "Okay, Regulus."

Regulus nods in thanks, not trusting his voice. His throat feels thick, skin too tight on his bones. His heart is hammering, muscles twitching like he needs to either go on a run or collapse on the floor in a quivering heap.

He doesn’t wait for Pandora to say anything else. He turns and walks away, leaving her in the corridor as he strides out of the corridor.

He’s barely half way to the Ravenclaw common room when he’s shouted at again.

"Reg?" They call.

James.

No, Regulus mentally screams. No way.

Regulus has successfully managed to avoid James in the last five days too. He’s not prepared to ruin that now too.

This all started because of bloody James.

"Regulus! Wait!" James shouts after him. "Reg, are you— wait! Are you okay?"

"Leave me alone, Potter," Regulus replies, but it’s pointless - when does James ever do as he’s asked?

The shouting is getting closer. James sounds like he’s right behind him now.

"Reg, hey, what’s—"

Suddenly, Regulus spins around, stopping so abruptly that James almost trips in his haste to stop before he barrels into him.

"My name is Regulus!" He shouts, chest heaving.

"Okay…" James nods, taking a step back, eyes wide. "Okay, Regulus. Are you… are you okay?"

"No!" Regulus cries, voice cracking embarrassingly. "No, I am not okay, James! I don’t know if I’m ever going to be okay again and you need to leave me alone!"

James looks shocked, hurt and horrified at the same time. "Regulus—"

"You need to stay away from me, James!" Regulus hisses, pointing his finger, too worked up to be bothered by the visible trembling of his hand. "This all started because you wouldn’t leave me alone in the first place. And now, because you couldn’t take a fucking hint and leave me be, people are talking! They’re noticing me again and they’re talking and it’s too much!"

James shakes his head frantically. "I don’t—"

"I don’t care! I don’t care if you don’t understand! Or you don’t want too! Are you listening to me?"

"I am, Regulus. I promise, I’m listening, but I really don’t think it’s as bad as you think," James says softly.

"Stop it!" Regulus snarls. "I worked so hard for years, James! I made sure I was uninteresting, I was boring, I’m seen as too mean or too unlikeable because I like to be alone! I don’t want people to talk about me, or talk to me, or be interested in my life! I don’t want people to know about who I live with or what happened with my parents, and when people don’t notice me, they don’t get curious! But now, all because of that fucking Hogsmeade trip, everyone is remembering Regulus Black bloody exists!"

James blinks at him, face paling. "Reg, I think—"

"I’m not like you, James!" Regulus shrieks. He knows he sounds hysterical, but he doesn’t care. The words are on the tip of his tongue, chocking him, drowning him. He can’t stop now. He needs to get it out. "I don’t enjoy the spotlight! I can’t talk to people in groups or social gatherings! I don’t make people laugh, or people happy. People don’t enjoy my company and I don’t enjoy theirs, and that is fine! Can’t you see I was fine until all of this? Until you? And now— a-and n-now— I—I—"

"Regulus," James pleads, stepping in front of him, hands reaching for his shoulders. "Reg, you need to breathe— please breathe—"

Regulus gasps loudly, chocked and stuttering.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t—

"I-I-I c-ca-an’t—"

My lungs aren’t working. Why aren’t they working? 

There is a ringing in his ears. He blinks rapidly but the spots won’t clear, the haze won’t disappear. James blurs in front of him. Is he crying? His chest feels tight, like there’s a belt wrapped around it getting tighter and tighter and tighter and—

"Okay, come on," James’ voice cuts through. "Come in here."

There’s hands on his shoulders. He’s moving, being guided, but his legs are barely working and he stumbles. He doesn’t fall, scrambling and leaning into the warm weight at his side. He’s leant against the wall, but it’s futile and his knees instantly give under his weight, causing him to slide to the floor. His chest is stuttering, he’s clawing at his neck desperately, wishing for anything for his airways to fucking open.

Suddenly, there are hands on his cheeks. They’re warm and solid, huge, cradling his face. He doesn’t notice his own hands reaching up to hold onto the wrists in front of him, hoping it will somehow ground him.

He’s floating away. He’s disappearing. He needs something to bring him back down before he's gone forever.

"Reg. Reggie, listen to me," a voice cuts in, soft but also desperate. "Listen to me, Reg. You need to breathe, okay?"

Regulus shakes his head. He can’t. He can’t.

"You can," they say. "I promise you can. Just try, nice and slow, and hold it. You can do it, we can do it together. Okay?"

Not okay. Not okay. Not okay.

"Breathe in, and hold it. One, two— again. In, hold it. One, two, thr— again. I promise, it’ll work. Try again, it’s already working. In, one, two, three. That’s it. In, one, two, three, four. In, one, two, three, four. You’re doing great, sweetheart. Keeping going. One, two, three, four."

Every breath hurts, but slow and surely, he does it. His chest burns, his throat feels like he’s swallowed glass, and he’s trembling all over like he’s gone five rounds with his mothers wand, but the cool oxygen flooding his lungs is a blessing. With every breath he manages to get in, the ringing in his ears recedes, the black dots dancing in his vision clears.

"That’s it, Reg. You got it. You’re doing great."

Regulus doesn’t know how much time passes. When the fog around his head clears and his breathing is calmer, he feels so exhausted he slumps and folds like wet cardboard. He blinks, suddenly realising his cheeks are wet.

James is inches from his face. They’re so close Regulus can see the flakes of gold in the brown of his eyes, the scattering of moles on his cheeks, the faint, faded freckles from the summer on the bridge of his nose.

Regulus comes back to himself very quickly. He stares at James, feeling the warmth of his hands on his face, the thumbs stroking his cheeks. He can feel the pulse in his wrists where Regulus’ hands are clamped around them.

"Are you okay?" James whispers gently.

Regulus blinks. A moment later, he nods.

"I’m okay," he croaks. "I…"

He trails off and looks around the room. He’s on the floor, knees to his chest and back to the wall of a classroom. Its empty, thankfully. The door is closed, and no sounds are coming from out in the corridor. James must have dragged him in here when he broke down in the corridor. Then he must have talked him though a panic attack, watching as Regulus struggled to breath and cried.

How embarrassing.

Regulus sighs, letting go of James’ wrists. Instantly, the hands against his face fall away and he moves back, only a few inches, but it’s enough to give Regulus some room to angrily wipe the tears from his face and rub his eyes.

His head is pounding. The headache he’s had all day has amplified with a vengeance. His stomach feels uneasy, chest and muscles aching.

But, at least he can breathe.

"Thank you," Regulus says after clearing his throat. "Um, for… you know—"

"It’s fine," James replies, nodding. He flashes Regulus a smile, suddenly seeming uncomfortable. "Has that happened before?"

"No," Regulus denies defensively. "And it won’t happen again, don’t worry."

"You don’t need to be ashamed—"

"Please don’t," Regulus mutters, and thankfully, James shuts up.

He rests his head against his knees, willing his body to calm the fuck down. In front of him, James is silent. Waiting. For what? Regulus doesn’t know, and honestly, he doesn’t care. This whole experience has been embarrassing enough.

"You should go," Regulus sighs, closing his eyes. "Classes will be starting soon."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Please leave," Regulus whispers. He cringes at how hoarse and wrecked he sounds. He can’t imagine what he looks like if he sounds like this.

"Regulus…"

"Please, James," Regulus interrupts, voice stronger. He looks up at the older boy, curling in on himself more when he see’s the older boys huge, sad eyes watching him. "Please. I— I want to be alone. I’ll be fine, I promise. I won’t— that won’t happen again. I just— I need you to go."

"Okay," James nods, visibly deflating. "Okay, Regulus. I’ll go, just please promise me that you’ll go to Pomfrey or something. You need to eat something, drink some water and get some sleep. Please, I’ll go if you promise me you’ll look after yourself."

"I’ll go to Pomfrey," Regulus agrees. He was already planning on going, his head is beating like a drum now. "I promise."

"Okay," James nods again. "I’ll see you later, okay?"

Regulus nods wordlessly. He doesn’t look up as James rises to his feet or watch the boy as he leaves the room.

Silence surrounds him. The only thing he can hear is his own breathing.

Regulus keeps his promise. When he finds the strength in his legs, he gets up and exits the classroom. Lunch is long over and it’s the middle of classes, so the hallways are empty as he makes his way to the infirmary.

Madam Pomfrey spots him from where she’s handling potion bottles in her cupboard the moment he walks in.

"Mr Black, are you alright?" She asks.

Regulus nods sheepishly. "I'm just feeling a bit under the weather."

"Take a seat on a bed, love," she smiles. "I'll be over in a minute."

Regulus does as he’s told. His legs hang over the edge, feet barely skimming the floor. He looks down at his shoes and blushes, cheeks burning and cursing his stupid, mediocre height causing him to be on of the shortest in his year. Height isn’t exactly a favourable gene in the Black family, but Sirius is at least a respectable height. Regulus supposes he got it from their Uncle Alphard, who along with their grandfather, towers above the rest.

"Alright, Mr Black," Madam Pomfrey says as she comes to stand in front of him. "What’s the problem?"

"It's just a headache," Regulus mutters, swallowing thickly.

"Too much reading and studying and not enough sleep and food, I imagine," she muses, smiling kindly, and Regulus doesn't correct her. Every other time, her assumption would be correct, as Regulus has been to the infirmary many times with headaches and sickness due to his tunnel vision when submerged in his studies, but not this time.

"Perhaps."

"Nothing a simple pain potion can't fix," she nods. "Do you have any classes this afternoon?"

Regulus shakes his head.

"You can stay here for a few hours. Maybe try and get some sleep before supper," she looks at him closely, gentle teasing morphing into stern concern. "You look tired, dear. You need to start taking care of yourself better."

"I know," Regulus murmurs quietly. "Just been focused on my studies."

"I've heard that one from you before," she replies. "I'll get the potion, then you can get comfy, okay?"

Regulus nods, feeling slightly foolish. His headache is persistent, making it hurt to blink or look or breath. The pain is pulsating so badly he feels sick with it, like he wants to bury his head and never lift it again.

Madam Pomfrey comes back quickly, giving him a pain reliever and motioning for him to lay down. She puts his bag on the table beside the bed, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before she goes.

Regulus curls up on the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. It’s not cold, if anything, the infirmary is on the brink of being hot and stuffy, but Regulus doesn’t care. He needs to curl up, to hide, to burrow and disappear. He clenches his hands in the blankets, frustrated at how they’re still shaking and there is a faint tremor running through him like he keeps touching a live wire. The pain potion has worked already, his menacing headache ebbing away. Within five minutes, Regulus knows it will be completely gone, but he’s relieved Pomfrey has allowed him to stay. He’s not ready to go back out there. He’s not ready to face everyone. He’s not ready to face James.

Regulus can’t believe he had a moment in front of James. It’s been so long since he had one of those. The last one was summers ago at Grimmauld when Sirius and his mother fought and ultimately ended with Regulus watching Sirius go flying down the stairs. Regulus had got himself in such a state that Kreacher, who found him curled in the corner of his bedroom unable to breath and spent 15 minutes trying to calm him down, admitted defeat and had to sneak Sirius out of his bedroom to help. Sirius had been bruised and battered, yet he came running when Kreacher called him.

Sirius is the only one who has ever seen Regulus in that state.

Not anymore, Regulus thinks grimly. Now James has too.

Clenching his eyes closed when they begin to burn, Regulus doesn’t even have the energy to wipe the tears away that escape and run down his face.

Regulus feels himself practically melting into the bed. The infirmary beds aren’t particularly comfortable, but his body suddenly feels so exhausted he’s convinced even laying on a uneven stone floor would be appealing right now.

Regulus doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he opens his eyes again, he feels groggy and muddled. Hours must have passed, because the light from outside is gone and the lanterns are lit, casting the quiet infirmary with a golden hue.

The events of the day come flooding back. From Pandora unintentionally guilting him into having lunch, to Crouch and Rosier calling him a blood-traitor in the corridor, to bumping into James, screaming in the older boys face and then crumbling breathless and sobbing on a classroom floor.

Regulus doesn’t get a chance to begin spiralling again, as he then notices the figure slowly approaching his bed.

"Sirius?"

"Hey, rabbit," his big brother replies, flashing him a smile that barely reaches his eyes. "Are you okay?"

Regulus rubs the grit out of his eyes, scrambling to sit up yet the movements feel sluggish, his limbs heavy and slow. He slumps against the pillows, pulling the covers back up.

"How did you know I was here?" He asks.

"You weren't at dinner again," Sirius explains, sitting down in the chair. He looks at him with such intensity, eyes fleeting across every inch of his face. Regulus barely refrains from squirming. "Are you alright?"

"Just a headache."

Sirius hums, disbelieving. "You get a potion?"

Regulus nods, eyes fixed on his blanket-covered lap. When Sirius doesn't say anything for a minute, he braves looking up to find his big brother still watching him.

"Okay, and what else is going on up here?" He asks, gently tapping Regulus' temple.

Regulus tenses. Has James said something? He knows the older boy isn’t the type to spread Regulus’ episode round like a piece of gossip, but Regulus doesn’t doubt if James has said something to Sirius about it.

No, Regulus tells himself. It wouldn’t matter: Sirius knows Regulus too well. Him being here is proof enough. Sirius pretends to not be bothered by Regulus’ habits and doesn’t exhaust either of them in chiding him for them. Despite this, Regulus knows Sirius would have noticed Regulus’ absence from the Great Hall and the library this week.

"Talk to me, Reg," Sirius murmurs softly. "I know you. I know this isn't just a spontaneous headache from too much reading."

"It could be."

"It could," Sirius nods. "Or, it could be from you completely stressing yourself out over the fact that you're not actually invisible despite how much you wish to be."

"Did James say something?"

"Would it matter if he did?"

Well, that confirms it then. James is a snitch. A caring, concerned, considerate snitch.

Regulus swallows thickly. "It’s just been a bad week."

"I know people have been talking. I know people noticed you with us at Hogsmeade, and the tiny bit of attention it gained has sent you in an absolute spiral, hasn't it?"

Trust Sirius to already know what’s wrong with him. If anyone was going to know exactly what the problem was, it was going to be Sirius.

"It's not bad, Reggie," his brother says. "People noticing you isn't a death sentence."

Regulus scoffs. "It feels like it."

"You're a person, Reg," Sirius sighs, shaking his head. "You’re a living, breathing, physical being that takes up space. You're not a trick of light. You're a real person, and you're allowed life and exist without fearing people are going to see you."

"I don't like it," Regulus whispers, closing his eyes tightly. "They all talk."

"It's just talk, Reg," Sirius soothes. "It’s talk that comes and goes. And what's wrong with people seeing you? You're a little mega-mind genius who deserves some credit for that firecracker of a brain you've got hidden in there."

"I don’t want credit," Regulus argues weakly, feeling exhausted. "I don’t need people to know I’m smart. I’m fine with them not knowing."

"You can't let people who don't matter suck the joy out of living," Sirius says. "They’re just people. They don't even know you, and you don't know them. And they're not saying anything bad."

"What if they are?"

"Then let them. They'll be gossiping about someone else tomorrow. You're not fascinating enough to keep their attention for that long," he winks playfully.

Regulus rolls his eyes. Sirius suddenly ruffles his hair, chuckling when Regulus sharply bats his hand away.

"You're such a little drama queen, Reg," his brother grins. "Only you would land yourself in the hospital wing because you got a bit of attention."

"Shut up," Regulus grumbles. "You’re not helping."

"You planning on hiding in here forever?"

"If it gives me my life of solidarity back, then yes."

Sirius rolls his eyes.

"Want me to go and get you some French toast from the kitchens?" Sirius asks. "It's still your favourite, right?"

"Yes please."

Sirius smiles at him. Before he leaves, he leans down and kisses Regulus' hair.

It makes Regulus feel better.

— tbc.