drawn to the blood
I'm drawn to the blood
The flight of a one-winged dove
How?
How did this happen?
How?
How did this happen?
('Drawn to the Blood' by Sufjan Stevens)
04:44. Thursday.
Regulus was fifteen.
He stared back at the cold-eyed person searing at him through his bedroom mirror. His cheeks were wet with tears he could barely feel dripping down his face, knuckles white from gripping at his neck. Blood was coming from his nose, making its way down into his lips and chin, and he did not--could not care enough to wipe the red off of his face with his sleeve. Everything was too loud--too quiet, too much, all at the same time. He was gasping for breath, trying to stay as quiet as possible. He knew he didn't have enough time to figure out what to do before the next round of punishment would hit.
Regulus had just turned fifteen years old and still deathly terrified of his mother and father.
Regulus had tried to write a letter to his brother, who had just run away to their friend's house for the holidays, or maybe forever, but his parents found his meager attempt to give the letter to Kreacher, their family house elf, and thought that Regulus should have known better than to try and sneak communication outside of the house.
It was a bad decision on his part. His mother found Kreacher walking around with a slip of paper folded up in his pocket, demanded to know what it was, and when she found out it was to her newly abandoned child, the storm began to rage. Thrashing wind whipped around the house, tearing down walls and paintings, screaming until it found its way towards the only child left in the house.
Flashes of light were blinding Regulus's eyes, and the pounding of the thunder from someone he couldn't help but love was so loud that he could barely hear himself trying to cry out for his brother. He was shouting their name over and over and over and over and over and over until his voice was raw, and he could taste the metallic linger of blood in his mouth. He kept calling out his brother's name only to realize that Sirius wasn't there.
And they weren't coming back.
Regulus had just turned fifteen years old, and he knew things weren't ever going to get better.
Regulus was fifteen.
His head was pounding when Regulus gasped awake, coughing and trying to clear his throat. He didn't know he had been crying in his sleep. Guessing by the way his eyes felt puffy, he had been. He wondered if the others down the hall had heard anything. If they did, would they come to his rescue or shrug him off? Would Sirius come rescue him, like they used to when they were kids?
His mind was still echoing and ringing. Loud screams from his mother were still crystal clear in his head. The argument played itself over and over. The fight that Sirius and Regulus had before Sirius stormed out. The frozen glare of Sirius's eyes upon him whenever Regulus had shouted at them. The letter that was never sent.
He hadn't meant what he said to his brother. None of it. He didn't want Sirius to ever leave. He was just upset. Upset with Sirius wanting out of the house, upset with their whole family, with being a stupid fucking prodigy, upset with all the fucking pressure that comes with their family name, upset that he and Sirius had started arguing more, upset that the weather was cold and always raining, upset that he had fallen earlier that week in the ice and the bruise on his hip ached whenever he tried to sleep on his side, upset that he enjoyed the pain of his bruise stinging him more than he should. Everything he had said to Sirius in that argument was immeaditley regretted upon as soon as he realized how sharp they stung his brother. He wanted to explain everything and apologize profusely to his brother, sealing his tears and I'm sorry, I really didn't mean it, please come back, I'm sorry's into an off-white tinted envelope with an emerald green crest seal donned upon it.
"Regulus?"
Regulus looked up at the doorway, seeing the illuminated face of James. His breathing was still labored and shaky. James must have heard it through the walls.
"I'm fine," Regulus quickly answered, trying to even out his heartbeat. It was still beating very fast, and it only seemed to get faster when James stepped into the room closer to him.
"Do you want to talk about it?" James asked.
"About what?"
James stepped closer to Regulus's bed, pointing at a spot near his feet. Regulus nodded, and James sat down on the foot of the bed, his nightshirt hanging loosely off him, so his shoulders were slightly exposed in the moonlight and the glow from his wand. Regulus blinked. He knew he shouldn't be thinking about how nice James's shoulders were in the middle of waking up from some sort of flashback-dream-whatever it was.
"Sirius used to do the same thing." James paused. "They used to wake up in the middle of the night a lot, crying or in some sort of panic. They thought they were still in that house. Sometimes they were calling out for you, and they would be even more upset when they realized you weren't actually here."
"Oh..." Regulus felt tears prickle behind his eyes again. He hoped James couldn't see in the darkness.
"They really love you, Regulus. And it broke their heart a million times when you weren't around. And I want you to know that it's so...I mean, just look at how happy they are with life now that things are better between you two. You mean the world to Sirius. And I know they mean the world to you too," James said.
"I'm sorry, I really am." Regulus wiped his eyes.
"You don't have to apologize, Regulus. It's not your fault."
"I'm sorry."
James looked down at his hands, clasping them in his lap. He then put one on Regulus's knee, tentative to make the physical contact with him. Regulus didn’t jump away.
"Let's say we go for a walk, and you can clear your head. We can watch the sunrise on the beach. Be back by breakfast. How does that sound?" James asked.
Regulus nodded. James smiled, offering his hand for Regulus to climb out of bed.
The salty air was still bitingly chill from the night, and the wind whipped around Regulus and James, as they carried their shoes in the sand down on the beach. James was walking through the water, letting the freezing waves wash over his feet. Regulus was wearing a sweatshirt from James because James had insisted he better layer up or else he would be freezing. He was right. How could it still be cold at the beach? In summer?
"Look over there, you can see the sun beginning to come out," James lay a hand on Regulus's shoulder, pointing towards the horizon, where Regulus could see the slightest sliver of golden began to creep out from under the curtain of waves surrounding it. The sky was hazy indigo color, with the small streaks of gold hinting of what was to come with time.
They were sitting on a green and orange checkered picnic blanket James had brought. James's hand was still on Regulus's shoulder, and for once, Regulus wanted to keep it there. James's hand was warm, and his energy was warmer, like some divine, mischievous spark in pitch black. Being around James felt like being able to breathe after feeling like you've been drowning. Hot air filling your lungs as you've made your way into the surface, and you have to squint your eyes because the warm sunlight blinds you at first. You blink a couple times before your eyes finally adjust into focus, and you realize that maybe the storm has passed a little, or maybe right now you're in the eye of it.
Without thinking, Regulus moved his hand to lightly rest on top of James's, interlocking their fingers together. Regulus didn't look back to see what James's face looked like, nor did he think he could. The thought of Sirius loomed in the back of his mind. Would Sirius care that he was holding hands with their best friend? Would Sirius be angry at either of them?
Regulus felt James shift closer towards him, squeezing his fingers against Regulus's. Maybe something like this could work out. Maybe something could work.
How easy it was to get lost in the delight of serene melancholy.
"I never asked you if you had ever been in love," Regulus said. "You know, around a week ago."
"You didn't have to. I was mostly teasing you because of Sirius and Remus," James sniffed. "I don't know for sure, either. If I've ever been in love, I mean. Real love."
"Really?" Regulus cocked his head. "What about that one girl? She's got the red hair? Sirius said you were mad about her."
James pursed his lips. "Lily? Oh, I mean...I used to really like her. She never found me appealing, but we became friends, like actual friends, around fourth or fifth year. She told me she...it just couldn't happen." He trailed off. "But I wasn't unhappy about it. Or at least, I'm not anymore. She's been seeing this girl--I actually think you're good friends with her."
Regulus's eyes went wide. "Who?"
"This cannot go anywhere. I mean, I don't think they're trying to be public right now. Not even Remus knows a lot about this. The only reason I know is because I...I mean I walked into the Prefects Bathroom, and uhm...I won't go into details, but let's just say, I thought it was occupied, but it was very much not."
"Are you sure you should be telling me this? Won't the person be upset?"
"No, I mean...we talked, and she said she wouldn't mind if you knew, as long as you kept quiet, and she was planning on telling you, but exams just got in the way, and then this whole thing...so it just happened on bad timing."
"Okay, then." Regulus sighed.
"You know Dorcas Meadowes, right?"
Regulus's eyes went wide. "Oh. That would make so much sense."
"Oh yeah?" James raised an eyebrow.
"I knew Dorcas had been sneaking around because she would come back to the Slytherin common room very late, and I mean...I knew there was something going on with someone, but she never really said who. I didn't ask either."
"Yeah. She and Lily have been either together, or at least something for quite a while, so, I really doubt anything between us will happen. I wouldn't really be opposed if anything did, but I'm happier to have her as a friend. I'd rather us be friends forever than us get together, and something goes wrong, and she would never want to speak to me again."
"Are you interested in anyone else?" Regulus asked. He could subconsciously feel himself moving closer to James. He didn't know if it was his imagination or if it was actually happening in this reality.
"Well..." James trailed off. Regulus didn't know if he meant to try and indicate something unspoken, something that Regulus had to try and interpret for himself. He was overanalyzing things all the time, constantly thinking, never catching any kind of break from the sprint his mind would force him to run, always swimming and looking for something to hold onto so he would not be pulled in under the surface and forget how to breathe.
"Well?" Regulus responded.
"I think I'm very..." James was softly pressing his fingers into Regulus's shoulder. Regulus hoped his face was not blushing red in the light of the sun coming up. "I think I might have feelings, but I'm also unsure. I don't really know yet, and I still need to think about it a lot before I try and go for anything."
"Smart."
"I hope. Because I wouldn't want to lose this person as a friend either. It's a complicated situation."
"I see."
"Do you also have feelings for anyone?" James asked. "I know we said that you weren't one to kiss and tell or whatever, but I'm just curious. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to."
"I think...I'm kind of in a similar situation. I think there might be someone, but it's just...things are a lot right now, and I wouldn't want this person to have to put up with all my bullshit. I don't think I have a chance with this person either. So there's that. I wouldn't want to drag them through more stuff they've already been through with me."
"Hey, don't say that," James tutted.
"It's true, though."
"Regulus, look at me." Regulus turned to look James straight in the eyes, feeling his face melt. "You do not get to decide how your lover--person--whatever--thinks about you because anyone would be lucky to be in your company. You are a good person, and I fully believe that. Just because bad things have happened to you, and the people you were surrounded by were bad people, does not at all mean that you are unworthy of being loved and appreciated and worshipped by someone who truly values you as a person and as someone who loves you for who you are."
Regulus was quiet.
"You aren't a bad person. You're just a hurt person. But you're here now, and you're healing. And things are going to get better. I promise. Things will be good for the both of us."
Regulus didn't know how to respond after that, so he lay his head on James's shoulder, and James let him. They stayed like that until the sun was high above them.
————
08:36. Thursday.
James and Regulus were laughing as they walked back towards the Potters’ house, kicking pebbles back and forth to each other, relishing the warmth in the sunlight. Regulus had begun to feel sleepy again, and he had plans to go back to bed after breakfast, and then later he would go down to the beach with everyone. They were going to do another Quidditch Friendly, and Regulus hoped this time he could play through the whole match without having to sit out because of an injury, like last time.
However, his plans seemed to fizzle out because when the two of them stepped up to the front door, Regulus could feel a chill in the air, and the sun wasn’t out any longer. He felt his entire stomach sink into itself, and he could hear a faint scream from inside the house.
Something was greatly wrong.
James gave him a look, and follower Regulus inside towards the kitchen, where Sirius was sitting. Crying. Angry--no, they weren't angry. Furious.
Something horrible was going on.
Sirius was sitting at the breakfast table, hands carded through their hair, pulling at it. Their face was a mess, wet with tears, nose running. Remus stood by their side, on his knees, holding them and consoling them, but Sirius's eyes were screwed shut, and they kept shaking their head over and over and over. Mr. and Mrs. Potter stood next to the two of them, reading over a piece of paper, faces blankly staring downwards. Mrs. Potter rubbed Sirius's back, eyebrows furrowed together in some great concern. Sirius was always a little on the dramatic side of things, but this seemed to be an actual problem, and not just a bad hair day for them.
"It's not true, it's not true, it's not true," They were sobbing, their voice breaking. "Tell me it's not true."
"I'm so, so sorry, love." Remus petted their hair, face growing cold whenever he realized James and Regulus had entered the room.
"What's going on?" James asked.
The room went completely silent, except for Sirius's sniffling and heavy breathing. All eyes except for James's were on Regulus Black, whose heartbeat was increasing with every minute of not knowing what in Godric's name was going on and why his brother was sobbing their eyes out at eight in the morning.
"There's something you need to know, Regulus." Mrs. Potter's voice was shaky. She cleared her throat. Regulus could tell she was trying to blink away tears. With a nervous hand, she handed the letter to Regulus. The parchment was the same style of paper his mother used to send out official letters, invites to family gatherings, and so forth. There was an emerald seal on the envelope.
"What is this?" Regulus asked, trying to decide if he should look at his brother, who was still an unconsolable havoc, the Potters, or down at the letter.
"It's from your cousin. Andromeda," Mr. Potter had spoken up. He took a deep breath. "She wanted you two to know before you...Well, before you found out through other means. The Prophet or from other people."
"What is it?" Regulus asked again, more fervor in his voice.
"I think you just need to read it, love." Mrs. Potter was rubbing Sirius's shoulders. Their crying had softened a bit, filling the room's silence.
Regulus opened the letter, unfolding it. His heart was pounding, and he didn't know why.
He began to read.
Dear Sirius and Regulus,
I don't even know how to begin this letter. I hate that I have to be the one to tell you two this, but I think it's better if it came through family, rather than through the public. So far, no one else outside the family knows asides from one or two people, but you know how fast word travels in our world.
Your mother passed away last night.
The doctors from St. Mungos think it was something to do with that heart condition she had. Or a stroke. They're still trying to figure it out. She's been taken into custody. I don't know how it happened. I wish I did.
I'm so sorry you had to find out this way. I'm sorry for you two. I'm sorry it had to be this way. I know things in the end were rocky for you two, and I'm sorry.
The funeral will be at 14:00, on Tuesday, the fourth of July, at the Old Black Manor. You do not have to come, but it would mean the world to us if you did. I promise that not everyone in our family sides with your parents. But I understand if you two do not want to come. Please write me back soon.
Again, I'm sorry for your loss, and I'm sorry that I had to be the one to tell you. Please reach out.
Love,
Andromeda Black
Regulus was going to throw up.