Boys

Regulus stared into the night sky. Well, he only was really looking at Sirius. The cold wind was brushing against his body, but he was numb to it. Those days, he felt numb to most everything.

“Reg?” Regulus turned his head around at the sound of Narcissa’s angelic voice. He saw his cousin crouching to the ground and sitting beside him. Her light blonde hair, dyed to make her fit more into her boyfriend’s family, was getting blown around by the wind. She was shivering.

“Regulus. It’s cold here. How long have you been out here?” Narcissa asked, searching her little cousins face worriedly. It took a moment for Regulus to answer.

“Apologies,” he finally said, shifting so he could take off his jacket and wrap it around Narcissa’s shoulders.

“Regulus,” she sighed, frowning, “You’re shivering. Here, have it back,” Narcissa unwrapped it around her own lithe body and enveloped it back around Regulus’. Both of them looked back at the night sky and it’s bright stars in all its beauty for a moment. Regulus was looking at Sirius’s star. Narcissa was looking at Andromeda’s galaxy. “Reg,” she said, hoping to capture Regulus’ attention again. He looked like a statue. His face didn’t seem to hold any emotion if it weren’t for his eyes burning with melancholy.

“I know what you’re going through,” Narcissa prompted. That got Regulus’ attemtion. The small black-haired boy looked at his cousin without turning his head, and then nodded to show he was listening.

“Andromeda left. I couldn’t talk about it to anyone, not unless I was dragging her name. I want you to be able to. To be able to talk about it with someone,”

“Couldn’t you talk to Bella about it?” Regulus asked, voice flat. If someone didn’t know him well (and Narcissa didn’t, not really), they would’ve thought there was no jealously in that question. There was.

Narcissa looked away for the first time since restarting their conversation. “No. I couldn’t have,” Regulus’ face scrunched up minutely, silently questioning ‘why not?’. “You don’t see her often, but,” Narcissa sighed, leaning back so she was laying down in the muggle field. “Bellatrix is…” Narcissa stopped, closing her eyes. “Dangerous,” she continued quietly.

“What do you mean?” Regulus inquired.

“Do you remember the pond with the inferi, at her engagement party? How she pushed you in?”

“She almost killed me,” Regulus nodded. It was left unsaid, but they could both hear the ‘I wish she did’. Regulus still had claw marks and scars on his torso.

“That wasn’t an accident, or what was supposed to be an innocent joke,” Narcissa said. She wasn’t mumbling; Blacks don’t mumble, but she was doing something similar. “She was laughing, the whole time. Bella likes hurting people. She wouldn’t have cared if you died, she might’ve been hoping for it. Bells liked hurting Andy, when she said something blood-traitor-like. She would’ve hurt me, if I talked to her about it,”

Regulus looked at Narcissa in what could’ve been mistaken as simple alarm. It was that, but it was concern, too. Blacks weren’t supposed to feel concern. They certainly weren’t supposed to show it. So, he schooled his features.

“I’m saying that I won’t hurt you. I won’t tell on you, either. Once,” she paused, weighing the pros and cons of her statement. “I was in love. With a girl. She was a Gryffindor and a blood traitor, everything this family hates. Her name was Alice Fortescue. I loved her,” Narcissa declared. “And sometimes, I wish I had gone with Andy. Escaped. Maybe kept dating Alice. Marry her, one day. More than anything, though, I miss Andy.”

Regulus knew what this was. Black mail. A secret for a secret. If Narcissa was going to tell on him for whatever he may say about Sirius, he could tell on her too.

That was usually how vulnerability happened in bloodpurist circles. An eye for an eye, leg for a leg. Regulus took the opportunity.

“If he hadn’t left, I would’ve,” Narcissa looked at him expectantly, patiently waiting for him to say more. “I’m only staying because it’s me or him. So, it’s me,” Regulus stated, matter of fact-ly. “He asked me to come with him. Saying no was one of the hardest things I’ve done. And I miss him. Oh, Merlin, Cissa, I miss him,” his voice cracked near the end, but he quickly straightened out his demeanor. Saying his weaknesses was enough, he didn’t need to show them, too.

“This family ruined my life, but I still love all of them. I wish I didn’t,” Regulus was being more forthcoming than he thought he would’ve. He didn’t think he’d said any of this out loud before. It was something he would’ve told Sirius, had Sirius 1: been there, and 2: had Regulus not been talking about him. He supposed that was what he was doing, imagining Narcissa was Sirius, if just for a moment. That’s why it was easier.

“‘Toujours pure’ ruined everything. My parents, your parents, their parents before them, all the way to the beginning of this damned Most Noble and Ancient House of Black.”

Silence stayed for a few moments until, “I like to pretend toujours pure isn’t about blood. When I’m here, under the stars, with you. When I used to be here, under the stars, with Andy and Bells. Under the stars with all of you. When I was sneaking around with Alice. All those times, I could pretend it meant to be good. Always pure, always good,” she said. Her voice went dreamy when she was recalling those rare times she felt safe.

Narcissa sat back up and slung her arm around Regulus’ shivering shoulders. She cast a few warming charms on the both of them. The blonde girl smiled at her little cousin, “You know, I’m never going to make the Black name be good, ever. I’ll have to take Lucius’, or some other man I’ll never love and won’t ever have a capacity to love. Maybe when you get older, you can escape. When Aunt Walburga and Uncle Orion die,”

“Father’s already on his way,” Regulus quipped. Narcissa’s smile grew.

“Maybe you can take the Black name and make it into something good,” Narcissa rested her head on Regulus’. Regulus relaxed into the touch. Both the cousins knew they were imagining each other as their respective lost sibling, and they were both looking at said sibling’s object in the sky. “I hope you can, Reggie. I hope you can.” Though they’d didn’t say the words, it felt like a promise. They both knew it was a promise. One day, Regulus would make it good, would make them good. One day, he would be good.

Regulus opened his eyes to the sight of Narcissa fading out, replaced by the ceiling above him.  He groggily wiped his eyes, woken up from his dream (well, his memory) by Evan’s and Barty’s bickering voices. His two-way silencing spell and locking charm had expired over the night. He couldn’t see them (last time they tried to open his curtains after he charmed them, they were both bald for a week) but he could hear them. They assumed the charm had expired for the night, but they weren’t ready to take any chances.

“… no, no, Barty”

“What?”

“Barty. Barty, listen to me”

“I won’t if you keep making me wait”

“Transfiguration is yellow”

“Bullshit!”

“Well, what do you think it is?”

“Red!”

“No! Charms is red!”

“No way, it’s transfig, for sure!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Regulus groaned, turning over onto his stomach. Silence sounded for a few moments until the sound of rustling and thumping triumphed. Regulus heard a particularly loud thump before Barty exclaimed something in pain.

“Morning, princess!” Evan said, opening Regulus’ bed curtains and smiling way too largely for this time in the morning. He also let in the assault of extremely bright sun into Regulus’ sleeping face. Evan was still giggling, and cast a glance to his side before Barty walked over, grumbling on the way.

“I’ll get you back for that, you fucknut,” he said. Regulus figured Evan had tripped Barty while running over to attack Regulus with the morning.

Or. Wait a minute.

It wasn’t the morning.

“Fuck,” Regulus groaned. He rolled over again, looking at his two dumb friends with a glare. “What time is it?”

“5:10,” Evan answered, a smile on his face.

Shit.

“Quidditch! Be back later,” Regulus said, stumbling over to the closet. He quickly took his uniform into the bathroom so he could change. Regulus never overslept, and technically he didn’t this morning, either. He had gotten up on time, ate breakfast, classes, lunch, more classes, etc. Sure, he did it a bit less happily than most mornings (which, to be fair, was not a very high standard at all), but he had a bad habit of taking naps when he was upset.

Regulus finished washing his clothes and briskly walked over to the door, grabbing his wand and broom on the way. The black haired boy walked through the walls of Hogwarts, thinking.

He was going to send the letter to Narcissa later that night. He didn’t want to threaten blackmail, but she gave him that piece of herself willingly. Slytherin to Slytherin, Black to Black, that’s how it always went: threats. He never had to threaten Sirius. Golden, Gryffindor, Sirius. Sometimes, Regulus liked the other houses more than his own.

Of course, his pride wouldn’t let him ever say those wretched words aloud, and he barely let himself dwell on them. But, well, maybe those hateful Gryffindors were right. Maybe Slytherin was just an amalgamation of the worst traits in a person.

Regulus loved his family. He would always love them, but he had to admit to himself that that family represented all the things he’d give his life to destroy.

Of course, these thoughts were difficult to have when he himself was a Slytherin. But, well, he never had much an issue of hating himself. Thinking himself evil. It was always easier to place the blame on himself rather than the people who made him that way; the people he still loved. He’d gotten out, but not without refusing to for a long time. Sirius and Andy had always been good.

Regulus supposed, logically, because he had been doing it to protect Sirius, that was a noble cause. Maybe he could be noble. Although, really, he still didn’t feel like it. Pandora always told him to look at the facts of a situation. Of course, there’s no fact of morally right or wrong, but he’d read plenty of philosophy (muggle and wizard), more than enough to come to conclusions by himself. The philosophers he always seemed to like least were the ones who thought he’d be good.

Pandora had once asked if that way of thinking might’ve stemmed from his parents always pitting him and his brother against eachother. If, because he sees his brother as good, that he thinks Sirius has won that round. Because Sirius is good, Regulus could not be. Regulus, of course, immediately stormed out of the room.

He knew she was right. Regulus had always been analyzing everything, and himself was the most readily available source. It was truly a wonder that he was still so emotionally stunted and anti-communication when he knew every little thing about himself, down to his deepest darkest moral crevices.

He loved his family. He would never stop loving them. He hated himself. He thought he would never stop. He had never been an in-between person. It was always all or nothing with Regulus. His whole family were all, sadly. Pandora and Dorcas were all. Barty and Evan were all. He’d had many other ‘friends’ (political alliances he had to form as the spare, and later, heir) but they all had been nothing.

Some people even described him as barely there. He loved so little that he forget what it was to feel love until he was suddenly drowning in it. It was like his love was a raindrop one moment and the next, he’s getting ripped to shreds by inferi and his cousin’s murder attempt.

It was hard to hate himself so deeply for loving the people who were most easy to hate. Then hating the people who were most easy to love.

He loved his parents. He loved Bellatrix. And yet, somehow, he hated James. Despite Regulus knowing he had no right to be jealous of the person who saved his brother, what he’d always been fighting to do, he still did. Love and hate didn’t care about right or wrong. Resentment for him ran deeply, wound into Regulus like it was his bone marrow.

He really was trying to get over it, but again, he was emotionally stunted and anti-communication, so there really was only so much he could do.

“Oi, Black!” Regulus came back to the present at Emma Vanity’s, the Slytherin quidditch captain’s, voice.

“Yes, Vanity?”

“Get up there! I don’t want you late, again!”

Regulus mounted his broom and took off into the sky, joining practice with the rest of his teammates.

-

“Regulus!”

“Fuck off,” Regulus had just showered and changed from his quidditch robes. Of course, Sirius had immediately tried to attack him with apologies the moment he stepped outside the locker rooms. Merlin, Regulus just couldn’t get a break, couldn’t he?

“Regulus, can we talk?”

“In private, you dramatic git,” he hissed, grabbing Sirius’ arm and dragging him towards the castle. His teammates had already started to gather as a bit of a crowd. Black family drama was enough to keep the rumor mill running for weeks.

The two Black brothers walked down the halls and up the stairs. Regulus was walking briskly and dragging Sirius along. It would’ve been silent, if not for Sirius’ annoyed grumbling at being manhandled by his little brother and being dragged along far too quickly, in his opinion. Regulus shoved Sirius and himself into an empty broom closet, casting light, silencing, and locking charms in quick succession.

He stared at his older brother, scowling. Sirius looked awfully guilty, but had defiance (as it always was) present on his face.

“Alright, are we just going to stand here, or are you ready to grovel for my forgiveness?”

“Wh- grovel?! I will not be groveling for your forgiveness, I will simply be… explaining my wrongs! For my own self benefit, of course,” Sirius denied. Regulus slowly rose one brow at his brother, the picture of an upmost scolding face. Sirius thought he almost looked like Madam Pince, or Professor McGonagall after one of their pranks.

“Fine, fine,” he amended. “Regulus. I wasn’t right to say those things, and I’m sorry for saying them. My  temper gets me sensitive, and mentions of family gets me temperamental,” Sirius apologized, avoiding eye contact the whole time. He sounded almost like he was reading off a script. Far all Regulus knew, he might as well have been. His younger brother suspected Remus or Lily- the ones with some semblance of emotional tact- had guided him through it the night before.

“What, exactly, are you sorry for?”

“For the things I said.”

“Which are?”

“Jesus, I don’t know, Reg! Why have you such a bad memory?”

“I want you to know what you’re apologizing for. I don’t want this just to be to appease Remus or Lily.”

“Why would it appease Remus or Lily? Ugh- fine- I’m sorry for calling you weak, and a thoughtless little puppet, and for using your trauma responses against you, and implying you’re stupid, and yelling, and making you upset, and making you cry, and for being just like them!” Sirius let out a breath, panting. His voice cracked near the end. “I’m sorry for being just like them- I never wanted to be like them- it was an accident, I’m sorry-“ Sirius broke off his own babbles with a sob.

He was still muttering incoherent guilty admissions when he broke down, chest heaving. Regulus was alarmed his older brother had even remembered all the things he thought of as hurtful. Of course, this did little to help with the weight on Regulus’ chest. He was partially asking Sirius in order to see if he even had a vague idea of what exactly he said, or if he was just doing this apology out of obligation and courtesy.

Obligation because Regulus was his brother, obligation because one of his friends told him he had to, obligation out of whatever- doesn’t matter, he was obligated all the same. Just like he was obligated to save Regulus, and never wanted to. Obligated to the burden that was his younger brother. Regulus also partially asked to see if he would take that admission back. He didn’t, and the weight was still heavy on Regulus’ heart. But, he looked at his brother: breaking down in front of him in a dark closet lit only by Regulus’ own wand, and sighed, moving forward.

Regulus had to lean his head up a bit to rest his chin on Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius’ breath hitched out of suprise, but he kept crying. He pulled his younger brother close and clutched onto him like he was something worth touching. Someone worth talking to. Worth apologizing to, and worth meaning it. Regulus felt he got whiplash with everything Sirius did. He was always so unpredictable, and unknowingly such a hypocrite.

One minute, Sirius was indirectly calling him a burden, and the next, Sirius was clutching onto him like he was worth something. Regulus let him live in such an illusion for a moment, grasping his brother’s back. He’d get over it soon, and Regulus would be dispensable, again. Sirius was only apologizing out of his guilt, and he was crying over it too. Regulus was there, comforting him, and even just that was more than they ever had at Grimmauld Place.

Regulus believed, the next minute, he would be back to being nothing in the eyes of Sirius. Why did he believe this? Well, because change was terrifying and he had never felt worth anything to anyone before. That was partially a reason he hadn’t left Grimmauld. After he thought about it, it truly was quite childish, but one of Regulus’ main thoughts was but what if it’s different? Too different? when Sirius asked him. In the Black family, he had his place, and it was set in stone, even if the stone was lathered with poison and jagged edges. He would be in a family of people he shouldn’t love, most of whom didn’t love him, he would have friends he didn’t care for, children he abused, and a wife he never would have loved, nor would’ve had a capacity to.

He didn’t know what would’ve happened at James’. If he thought about it logically, there wasn’t really a possibility of having a worse life at James’ than the one he was set to have in the Black family. Though feelings never seemed to care about logic, did they? He always tried to reason out his emotions, but the most he would do was dull it to a dim (but painful) thud dragging down his body and mind until he remembered and felt nothing at all. It almost felt like the imperious, but the caster was none other than himself, if it was.

Walburga used to know this weakness of his. Fear of the unknown. After Sirius had left, she had been off the rails more than usual. One minute, she would torture Regulus until his pride would break and he was left begging for it to stop, and the next, she’d be threatening and guilting him into loving her. Other than the threats, not much worked, not when he was under the haze of trauma. Not when he couldn’t feel anything other than fear, anyways.

So, she used the fear. If you don’t do this for me, I’ll change this!, or I’ll beat you again! or if you run away like Sirius did, you never know what’s going to happen,and then she’d list all the worst possibilities.

But Regulus always lived in nearly incapacitating fear. And, he thought, he may as well get some joy out of it, too. Of course, despite knowing it was unlikely, he hoped that one day he’d feel safe consistently.

“I’m sorry for breaking down on you. Aren’t I supposed to be the one comforting you, apologizing and whatnot?” Sirius chuckled wetly, calmed down. Regulus tried to tug away, now that Sirius had stopped crying. But Sirius pulled him in closer, swaying Regulus side to side. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “thank you.”

“You’re forgiven, you’re welcome, now let’s finish this emotional gushing. I can barely stand it,” Sirius scoffed, amused at Regulus’ antics.

“There’s the prickly Regulus I know and love,” he sniffled. Regulus scowled.

“Don’t go getting your snot on my robes.”

“God, you’resuch a bloody swot,” Sirius exclaimed playfully.

“For not wanting my robes sullied by your boogers? I’ll happily hold the swot status if that’s the official definition,” Sirius pushed Regulus away, smiling.

“Reg?”

“What?”

“Me and the girls are having a girls night on Friday. I’d like you to come.”

“‘The girls’?” Regulus questioned dryly.

“Lily, Mary, Marlene, and Remus if he chooses to come- I think he’s going to be having a lie-in, though”

“Why are you and Remus- and me, apparently, included in ‘girl’s night’?”

“Well, they say I’m girl enough, and Remus is apparently the most tolerable boy of the group” Sirius shrugged.

“I can second that bit about Remus. Why me?” Regulus questioned, crossing his arms.

“They want to make you feel welcome, and if you behave well enough, you’ll be invited again as a tolerable boy”

“And where do I go?”

“Meet me outside the Slytherin dungeons at 8 on Friday,” Sirius shoved past Regulus, shouting back “Love you! Be there!”

“I won’t!” Regulus replied, but Sirius still chuckled, knowing it was a lie. Regulus was already feeling jittery about changing his Friday plans. To be fair, he had no Friday plans, but those were plans in and of themselves. Since it was a girls night, he decided he would invite Pandora and Dorcas when he next saw them. He scrubbed his face with his hands, already feeling the days weighing on him