Room of Requirment
Regulus’ POV
Regulus strolled through the castle, basking in the blue glow of the moon. He thought of Potter's smile as he went, remembering the way the light hit his glasses. His hand moved to the pendant on his neck, pulling it from under his button-up. Its smooth, glass-like surface felt nice under his thumb as he rubbed the malachite.
His leather shoes clicked on the stone floor as he made his way downstairs, still avoiding the great hall. Even with Potter's apology he didn’t want to see him and that stupid, perfect smile.
Regulus rolled his eyes and set the necklace back in place, searching for the right painting. Upon finding it he walked over and tickled the pear, stepping back as it swung open. Inside were tons of house elves who swarmed him as he entered.
“Sir Regulus, some tea?”
“Any biscuits, Sir Regulus?”
“What can I get for Sir Regulus?”
“Tea is fine,” Regulus smiled at them. “Do you know where Victy is?” He spoke to a shorter house elf who had offered him a scone.
“Over there, Sir,” the house elf said, pointing to a line of stoves across the room. He thanked the elf and carefully made his way over to Victy.
The house elf seemed to be finishing up desserts for the other students in the great hall, focusing on a caramel sauce. Regulus just waited for him, not wanting to disturb the process.
Another house elf appeared next to him, handing him some tea. “Anything else, sir?”
“Not at the moment, thank you.”
The house elf smiled and ducked her head as she went back to her respective duties. Regulus took a sip of his tea, glad that they remembered how he liked it; plain and bitter. He reveled in the warmth that filled his body, heating his chest delightedly.
Victy turned finally, acknowledging the boy waiting on him. “Evening, Regulus.”
He had been the only house elf that Regulus had convinced to speak with him informally. It was hard to do so, and he had started convincing him of it last year. Victy had eventually given in after constant begging, although Regulus would never admit that’s what it was.
“Evening,” he smiled, setting down his tea. Regulus pulled a folded slip of parchment from his pocket, handing it to the elf. “Would you be able to slip this in with the dessert? I need it to go to the Gryffindors, and aim for the marauders, please?”
“Of course, Regulus, anything for you I will do.”
“I appreciate it.”
The house elf then waddled over to another area which held four tables identical to those in the great hall, as well as the fifth for teachers. Regulus watched as he slipped the note into a cupcake, in the relative area of where his target sat. The worst that would happen is some other kid would receive it and meet him at the noted place.
Of course they’d question his intentions, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. Even if rumors sprang, he had dealt with them before.
When another house-elf passed, he requested a bowl of soup, trying to give them something easy to prepare. Of course, the elf had come back with a full platter of potato soup, a garden salad, and several dinner rolls. With it was more tea and a small bowl of blackberries.
Regulus let out a small, breathy laugh at the way the elves would so easily give him more than requested. He only hoped it was because they had extra and not because they felt he needed it, what with him being better or something.
He had always thought the way house-elves were treated was horrible. They were sentient beings for Merlin’s sake. If it weren’t for his family, he probably would’ve started some sort of protest or revolt. They didn’t deserve to be enslaved like this.
The painting slid open again and the house-elves swarmed to the door, offering up their freshly baked goods and sweets.
Evan held his hands up placidly, smiling at them awkwardly as Barty hurried to the chair across from Regulus. “Get a load of that guy,” he jabbed his thumb toward Evan, letting out a hearty laugh.
Regulus laughed in a way easily mistaken for a scoff. “Leave him alone,” he said before turning to Victy and requesting tea for his friends.
“I’ll take mine with some milk,” Barty replied when Victy asked how he’d like it.
Evan let out a sigh, sitting down next to Barty. “Splash of milk and three lumps, please,” he nodded to the elf. “Good to see you’re eating well,” gesturing to the food with an outward palm.
“Oh,” Regulus pushed it slightly closer to them. “Take what you what, I only asked for the soup.”
Barty gladly grabbed at the dinner rolls, Evan frowning instead. “You need to eat more, Regulus.”
“How are you so sure of that?” Regulus tilted his head, mock curiosity on his face.
“Have you seen yourself?” Evan raised a brow, folding his arms over the table.
Barty looked between them. “He’s got a point, Babe,” Evan knocked his knee with his own under the table, shooting him a look. “Reggie.”
The expression Regulus wore changed to that of genuine confusion, but he let their behavior slide. For now. “Enlighten me, darling,” he gave him a small smile to match his tired eyes.
Barty pulled out a pocket mirror, shoving it into the boys face. “Your damn cheekbones are falling in like a dead man’s,” he shut the mirror, “your limbs are skinny as hell, and I swear you’re paler than the white of your canvases!”
Evan chuckled slightly at the boys words. Regulus gave him an amused look.
He shoved one of the dinner rolls into his mouth, glaring at the two. “I’m right,” he said through a mouthful of bread. “And you’re wrong.”
That somehow made Evan laugh even harder, throwing his head down as he convulsed. Barry’s frown deepened and he looked to Regulus for some sort of back up. He simply spooned some of the soup into his mouth, smirking at the boy.
“You guys suck,” Bartys frown turned to a pout, and he slouched in his chair, nibbling on the bread in his hand.
“Dick,” Evan smirked at him, making Barty flush with pink.
“Oh Merlin, Barty,” Regulus gasped. “You’re rubbing off on him!” He pulled a hand up to his face, placing it on his cheek to seem shocked.
Evans smirk grew even wider when he said this, and Bartys blush deepened. “No! He did this to himself!” He waved his hands around frantically, whining.
Regulus laughed and shook his head, going back to his food. He listened at the others casual conversation while he finished up his food, and watched as the house elves sent the dessert out to the great hall. When he exhaled as the food was delivered, he realized he’d been holding his breath.
He rolled his eyes at his behavior, standing up and waving to the others.
“Where are you going?” Evan asked.
“Somewhere,” he stepped out of the doorway before anything else could be said and hurried back upstairs to the seventh floor.
On his way to the astronomy wing it occurred to him that he could slow down. He’d been speed-walking the whole way there, as if he was trying to beat them. However, he had specifically said to meet him when they were finished, which meant it could be awhile.
Regulus continued on, slowing only slightly, before finally making it to the corridor. He stood outside a moment, asking over and over for a place to talk. When the door finally appeared, he found a sitting room with a large fireplace to one side. It’s ceiling was rather high, and there were several couches over various patterns facing it. On the other end of the room was a large table, two chairs on each side.
He chose to sit on the dark, flower-patterned sofa. The fabric had a dark green background with red and pink flowers scattered in a style akin to rococo. It was much softer than expected and Regulus sunk into the cushions as he sat.
After finding a comfortable position, he waited, listening to the soft crackle of the fire. The room seemed to heat more and more the longer he waited to the point where he was removing his jumper, leaving his thin dress shirt on.
Regulus ran through the assumed conversation, realizing he hadn’t prepped for Sirius nearly enough. He just knew he wanted his brother to love him again, to respect him again, to at least speak with him again.
The door opened behind him, footsteps muffled by the rug strewn across the floor. Regulus replaced his anxious expression with that of apathy and calm, turning to Sirius.
But it wasn’t Sirius.
For a split second, Regulus continued to glare.
But when he realized who it was, his mouth hung open slightly.
James Potter had gotten the bloody note.
“Didn’t think I’d see you here, Reg,” Potter smirked at him. “Who were you trying to give this to anyway?” He waved the parchment in the air.
“Clearly not you,” Regulus rolled his eye crossing his arms over his chest. “And stop calling me that.”
Potter plopped into the empty space next to Regulus, sitting with his legs crossed. “Were you trying to woo some poor, innocent, Gryffindor, girl?” Potter looked at him, faking disappointment.
“Merlin, Potter,” Regulus shoved the boy slightly. “Not everyone’s girl crazy.”
“Excuse you?” Potter gaped, feigning offense. “Lily and me are over!”
“Like you were ever a thing,” Regulus rolled his eyes.
“Let a man dream.”
Regulus felt a flare of something in his chest, not surfacing far enough for him to identify it. “No.”
“No?” Potter gaped at the boy.
“No,” Regulus stated simply, allowing for a small smile as they fell into a comfortable silence.
Potter hesitated, before breaking it. “Why were you going to the room of requirment anyway? Of all places?”
“Easier to avoid others,” Regulus stated simply.
“I’d beg to differ.”
“No one actually pays attention to what was in ‘History of Hogwarts’, I’m sure you got the name from Lupin.”
Potter sighed, dejected. “Cuaght me,” he held up his hands.
Regulus laughed lightly, looking at the boy across from him. His eyes seemed brighter than usual in the light of the fire. He watched as Potter leaned his head on his hand, which was resting atop the sofa. He gave Regulus a crooked smile, studying his face in turn.
Regulus leaned his head back on the sofa, then, closing his eyes for what felt like just a minute.
After an eerie silence, Regulus felt empty yet whole. He felt like he was floating, like somehow he was not where he was, but there all the same. He did not even know where, or what was happening. Regulus simply knew his eyes were shut, and there was someone beside him, breathy uneven.
He then felt Potter shift his position closer to Regulus, and felt him inch closer. His breath felt hot on his ear as he leaned in, making Regulus’ breath hitch.
“Good night, loser,” and the weight next to him was gone.
Regulus bolted upright, turning to Potter as he left. He just gaped at the boy, wiping sleep from his eyes. Potter gave him a smirk before shutting the large, wooden door behind him.
What.
The.
Hell.