Bad Dreams
Regulus’ POV
It was dark and it was cold and Regulus couldn’t think straight. His mind was foggy as was the room he lay in. There were noises from outside, maybe two people. The words were incoherent and sounded muffled. Someone opened a door, they entered the room he was in. The air around him turned cold. He wanted to run. They were dangerous, they were going to hurt him. He had to run, he had to leave.
He couldn’t stay there, not now. He was weak and fragile and defenseless as he lay in a bed he did not recognize. The person moved closer and he felt the sheets beneath him soak with a heavy liquid. Regulus knew it was blood, although he could not see, smell, or taste it, he knew. His breaths were ragged and staggered. If only he could open his eyes to find an escape. Where was he?
The person stepped up to the bed and laughed in a way only one person Regulus knew laughed. Walburga stood at the edge of the bed, leaning on one of its wooden posts, as Regulus opened his eyes and let out a scream of pain and agony. He saw now that he was cut and bruised and torn apart, his insides spilling around him. Sirius hadn’t been there to help. He was gone.
He left Regulus alone in that damned house to struggle with his parents and fend for himself. He left him with zero protection, with zero help, with no one to save him. He told Regulus he was never going to leave him. He promised.
Regulus’ lungs tightened as he tried to let out another scream, but failed. His vision faltered, splotches of color dancing across it. Then he fell through the bloodied sheets and underneath the house and through the world itself and he was falling for what felt like hours but must’ve only been a few seconds.
He was suddenly in his dorm, Evan and Barty’s sides of the room emptied of their belongings. There was little light in the room, only a warm glow produced by one of three candles on his bedside table. He searched the room anxiously as he felt his arms and legs and torso, trying to see if he was still bleeding. The only wound he could find was a cut across his leg, identical to that of what Sirius had, the scar which now sat there in a silvery-white. Blood was seeping from the wound and Regulus choked back tears as he felt the air sting the exposed flesh.
Regulus went to cover the wound with a makeshift bandage as a hand reached from the back of his bed and pulled him into the wall. He let out a silent scream and thrashed about, begging for someone to save him. It was dark and suffocating in the wall and it burned his wound further. He struggled as much as he could, trying so hard to escape the clutches of what had to be death. Tears dried on his face as he lost his breath and his energy ran low, and he felt a warm hand touch his knee with all the gentleness in the world. He did not shake at the touch, nor did he flinch, but he welcomed it and knew it would be his one way out.
He was pulled out of the wall and found himself sitting on a sofa he did not know. It was red and soft and reminded him of home; not his home but the feeling of home. When he wiped the water from his eyes and he looked to his side, he was met with a familiar smiling face.
James held Regulus’ hand in his and whispered words he couldn’t understand. It made the boy feel so much better and he leaned into the touch, lying back on the couch and breathing in as deeply as he could. Everything felt warm then, the world around him, James’ smile, his heart. The wound on his leg was gone, a burning sensation the only reminder. He laughed. Lightly. But he laughed, and he didn’t know why.
Then, James leaned in, whispered in Regulus’ ear, and sound filled his head.
Regulus could hear Evan shuffling around on the other side of the room, talking with Barty. Regulus groaned and rubbed sleep from his face. Flashes of the dream hit him then and he shivered with fear. He slowly counted his breaths, willing the memories of blood and wounds and cuts and gashes to leave his. Asking, pleading, for Walburga and her stupid laugh to stop plaguing him. The image which replaced the dark, cruel, aching thoughts was Potter smiling.
It wasn’t from their previous interactions, however. It was Potter from his dream. The one he’d dreamt up all on his own, his new anchor. Not that he wanted him to be his anchor, but it seemed that somewhere in his mind he was asking for it. But it couldn’t be Potter. His anchor had always been Sirius, and sometimes Kreacher. Once it was Pandora, but those are all people he cares about and he trusts. He’s not even on a first name basis with Potter, so why would he be his damned anchor?
He couldn’t have feelings for him, afterall. It was Potter. James bloody Potter. Sure, he was gay, but not for Potter, never for Potter.
He groaned and threw his head back, massaging his temples. Then Regulus stood and got out of his bed, too tired to focus on this any longer.
“Hey, Reggie,” Barty waved from Evans' bed. “Where are you off to?”
“I’m just going on a walk,” Regulus waved him off as he opened the door.
“Did you sleep alright?” Barty looked at him with concern as Evan sat down next to him.
“Yes,” Regulus stood in the doorway for a moment, waiting for Barty to say something else.
“Alright, well,” he paused to glance at Evan. “Don’t get caught.”
“I never do,” and Regulus shut the door as he stepped out into the hall. He continued down into the common room and out into the dungeons, unsure of where he might go.
Regulus went through hallway upon hallway, made his way outside, and walked to the black lake. The night was dark and cold, and the sky was glittered with stars. The boy sat down on the damp grass. He looked up as he reached the ground and searched for his constellation. It was hard to spot at first, but he found it and traced the lines which connected the stars and ended on his own.
He laid back, breathing slowly, forcing back tears threatening to fall. It was so hard to feel things, but so impossible to stop. Regulus shut his eyes and tried to work through the nightmare he’d just had and the reason for Potter being there. It pissed him off that Potter had been his grounding piece in the chaos.
Usually Sirius would count his breaths or Kreacher would help to nurse his wounds and that would be the thing to tear Regulus from his dream. Even though Regulus knew it was impossible, he found his mind wanting Potter to be his safe place. Potter, who probably hates him and probably wants him to leave his brother alone for good, was trying to force his way into Regulus’ life and he didn’t know how to stop it.
Sooner or later the boy would see that Regulus wasn’t worth the trouble, that he was too far gone. He knew that the Gryffindor would learn that he was crueler than even Sirius could describe and he couldn’t let his feelings get in the way of letting Potter escape before he got too close to the boy.
Regulus rolled on his side, burying his face in the crook of his elbow. He could feel his face warming. He let out a quiet sort of scream into his elbow before standing to leave. Regulus slowly walked back, taking in the chill of the night and collecting himself and his thoughts.
It was calmer, walking back. Slower, and easier. He’d finally let go of the nightmare and allowed it to fall into that place where dreams go when you start to forget about them, to forget about their events.
He’d only been out for an hour or so, and he expected Barty and Evan would still be up. Hopefully they wouldn’t ask too many questions of him about what was up or where he went. Not that they usually did, but Barty seemed more concerned than usual. He really hoped he hadn’t forgotten his silencing charm.
Regulus stopped when he heard a meow from around the corner. He knew it was Mrs. Norris and he wasn’t sure how far Filch would be. As he inched forward, the cat rounded the corner and paused to look at him.
“Hello,” Regulus spoke quietly, sweetly, in the way you speak to a pet you love dearly.
She tilted her head and meowed again, although not loudly. He hurried over and allowed her to smell him. Once she was content with her endless sniffing, she nudged her head into his palm and allowed him to pet her. A small smile fell over his face as she purred to him. Her fur was soft and warm and he wished he had a cat of his own. But his parents would torture that thing just to get a reaction from him or teach him a lesson, and he couldn’t do that to some poor animal.
“I’ll be going, now,” Regulus pulled his hand away. “Don’t tell Filch I was here.”
Mrs. Norris tilted her head again, meowed quietly, and turned to leave. She went back the way she came and allowed Regulus to head to the dungeons without disruption. When he reached the bottom of the staircase he saw a rat scitter across the floor.
He scoffed in disgust at the poor treatment of the dungeons. Dumbledore of course would force his least favorite house to sleep with the infestations. He probably thought Slytherin was an infestation.
Regulus continued to walk, his heels clicking on the stone floor as he hurried to the common room. When he made it to the entrance he couldn’t help but feel an odd sort of presence nearby. It felt like someone was watching him, but he was used to the feeling by now. He brushed it off as anxiety and stepped up to the entrance.
“Vermillion,” he said, not keeping his voice down. When he walked into the room, the door didn't immediately shut behind him. Regulus knew something was up, but at the time he didn’t care. His thoughts were whirling about in his head and he was filled with exhaustion, he couldn’t be bothered to care.
He went to sit on one of the velvety green sofas, lying his head back on the cushions. An image of Potter smiling at him, and leaning in to whisper in his ear popped into his head. Another of him laughing with his friends, and others scattered in time filled his thoughts then. He sighed and ran his hands down his face, trying to hide some of the creeping blush. Fucking Potter.
The boy sat there a little while longer and heard the painting on the mantle begin to hiss and slither. He opened his eyes, looking up at the painting with confusion. The snake which had been peaceful just a moment ago was now skeletal.
“What the fuck,” he breathed, sitting up now.
There was a familiar snicker from behind him and he whipped his head around trying to find the boy.
“Potter,” he looked around where he had heard the laughter but saw no sign of the older boy. “If you’re doing this to fuck with me then piss off.”
Regulus stood and began to search the room. He noticed the movement of a candelabra but ignored it, since you can’t just make yourself invisible. That is, not without an invisibility cloak, and he doubted Potter owned one.
He continued to walk, unsure of himself. He heard something shuffle behind him, but before he could turn to catch the boy, someone grabbed his shoulders and yelled “Boo!”
Regulus jumped forward, his arms flying to a defensive position. He slipped his wand from his robes and turned to glare at Potter. The boy was smiling in such a goofy way, Regulus didn’t want to look away. Anger seethed through him at the way the Gryffindor had a hold on him and his glare turned to that of sharp hatred. “Piss off, Potter!”
The sixth year grinned and took a step back. “I didn’t think you were so jumpy, Reg.”
“Stop calling me that,” Regulus scoffed.
“Never,” Potter's grin grew even wider, although it seemed impossibly so.
Regulus felt the anger burn through him and a blush creeping up his neck. He raised his wand only slightly, unsure if he should hex the boy or not. Although he didn’t, he wished he had. “I have had such a long day, so if you would just leave me alone,” Regulus didn’t finish. He knew it sounded like he was begging. He didn’t want to beg, and he didn’t want to let Potter know what exactly was bothering him.
“You’re so fun to bother, though,” Potter whined and placed a poorly curated frown on his face.
Regulus sighed, waved a hand at Potter with disregard and turned on his way to leave. He’d rather deal with Barty and Evan nagging him all night.
“Reg, where are you going?” Potter followed after the boy.
“To bed.”
“Without me?” Potter sounded so genuine it shook the Slytherin. Regulus turned to him, mouth agape and eyes giving him yet another death stare.
“What?” He couldn’t believe that Potter would resort to flirting to make fun of him.
Potter tilted his head, forcing back a smile which played on his lips. “Are you really going to bed without me?”
Regulus’ mouth shut, opened again, and then shut once more as he tried to form a response. He didn’t know what to say. He could tell him to bugger off, or- no.
No.
Regulus stopped himself before his thoughts became uncontrollable and felt the blush fall over his face, heating it like mad. He raised a finger to Potter and barely managed “Stop.”
“Stop what?” Potter did a terrible job of seeming innocent and trying to hide his smile, which inevitably covered his face.
“Flirting or whatever the fuck this is,” Regulus slipped his wand into his pocket and framed his face with both hands as he put pressure on the sides of his head. Deep breaths. Calm down.
Potter laughed which made Regulus’ face only heat further. Goddamnit Potter! Regulus thought as he controlled his breathing.
“Merlin, Potter! I mean it,” Regulus threw his hands down.
“Sorry,” Potter breathed out, still laughing. “I’ll leave you alone for now, Reg.”
Regulus rolled his eyes and turned around. He went straight to the dorms and listened as Potter tried to control his laughter. “It’s Regulus, not Reg,” he spat as he opened the door and left Potter alone in the Slytherin common room.
He took a few deep breaths, standing at the bottom of the stairs, before hurrying to his dorm. Evan and Barty were still sitting on Evans bed, talking as they had been when he left. Barty was draped over Evans legs, his own dangling from the bed as Evan propped himself up against the headboard.
Evan and him had gone quiet when Regulus entered, and watched as the boy went about the room. Regulus threw his cloak onto his bed, undid his tie, pulled off his sweater, and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. He laid down next to Barty, letting out an exasperated sigh.
“Fuck everyone,” Regulus glared at the cieling with undirected hate.
Evan spoke. “Couldn’t agree more,” and that was all that was said for the rest of the night.
The three boys would sit in a comfortable silence before they all slowly drifted to sleep. Regulus would creep back into his own bed, then, and cast a silencing charm over himself to block out the screams of his night terrors. When his friends would wake they would question nothing, and forget to ask about what happened that night.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-
“I can’t believe that shit actually scared people,” Barty rolled his eyes as he threw his feet over one of the library tables.
“Quiet down,” Regulus chided.
“The only people they freaked out were Hufflepuffs who were on LSD last night or Ravenclaws that got no sleep,” Evan rolled his eyes with a smile on his face.
“Genuinely! Maybe the ghosts were horrified by those nasty colors, but damn, was no one else affected,” Barty pushed Regulus lightly, earning a glare as he glanced up from his book.
“What’d you think of the prank, Regulus?” Evan leaned on his hand, elbow on the table.
“Childish,” was all he said as he continued reading.
Evan frowned. “You know, usually you have the best responses to these things.”
Regulus rolled his eyes, although the others could not see, and kept quiet.
“Boring,” Barty held out the word and took his feet from the table. He gestured to Evan, “Dinners gonna start soon.”
“You coming?” Evan asked as he and Barty stood.
“Eventually,” Regulus replied.
“Bye babe,” Barty said mockingly.
Evan rolled his eyes as Barty laughed, a wide grin plastered on his face. Regulus glanced up as the two boys walked away, wondering if maybe he should have gone with them.
It’s not like he was going to be in the library forever, though, he’d leave in an hour at most.
Instead of worrying about it too much, Regulus continued his research. In just a few days he’d start the process to become an animagus, and then he’d have another way to connect with his brother. Maybe Sirius would care more, be proud of him, hate him less, if he could just figure this out.
He had made sure to take notes this time around, hoping it would help him remember. Regulus had already filled several pages in the last hour, all with repetitive but important information.
He noticed the sun begin to set further into the fields outside and stood, closing up his book and notes and shoving it in his bag. He’d probably just take it to dinner with him since it was such a long way to the dungeons. Regulus sighed and began the trek from the library to the great hall. His shoes clicked along the stone floors. He noted how empty the halls were, probably because everyone loved the Halloween feast.
The great hall was loud as usual, heard from down the hall. Regulus stepped in and was immediately greeted by one of the jack-o-lanterns.
“Welcome to the feast, you bloody loser!” It shouted in his face, making him take a step back. “Look like you just came from the dumpsters.”
Regulus’ face twisted with confusion as he walked from the pumpkin, side-eyeing it on the way to his seat. Others were insulting students across the hall, calling them stupid insults and making some of the first years cry.
When he sat down he saw Barty having something of a conversation with one of the jack-o-lanterns. It wasn’t pleasant, but there wasn’t venom in eithers words.
“You smell rotten already,” Barty said to the pumpkin.
Evan leaned towards Regulus, who had sat next to him, not taking his eyes from his friend and the talking pumpkin. “That thing told him he’s a single loser.”
Regulus let out a quiet burst of laughter. “But he is?” He smiled at Evan, who returned it and only gave him a quick glance.
“You’re not much better, are you? No wonder you can’t pick up girls,” the pumpkin sneered and snickered.
“Not like anyone would date you and your fake ass lips, would they?” Barty shot back, aggressively chewing his food.
“At least I’d taste good.”
“Pumpkin is disgusting and you can’t prove to me otherwise.” The aggression in his tone was slightly more present now.
“I can’t, now?” The jack-o-lanterns tone changed slightly when it said that, which made Regulus smile, Evan reel with laughter, and Barty look at it in absolute horror.
“Cat got your tongue?” The floating pumpkin asked, clearly happy that it won.
Barty didn’t respond and simply grabbed the nearest bowl and smashed the pumpkin to the floor. When it fell to the ground, but was not yet destroyed, he stomped on it and crushed it to bits.
“Fucking enchanted assholes,” he yelled out, each word emphasized as stepped on it again, and again, and again.
Evan had his hands on his head, laughing so hard that no sound came out. Regulus was covering his face slightly with his hand, trying not to laugh at the scene.
“You’re insane,” Evan breathed as the boy sat back down and continued to eat his dinner.
“Good,” Barty said. “My parents would love to hear that.”
Regulus let out a little snort. Barty turned to him with wide eyes, and his expression slowly changed sinister.
“Don’t tell me,” his smile was large and creepy now. “Regulus black fucking snorts when he laughs.”
“Shut up, Barty,” Regulus rolled his eyes and swatted at the boy.
“Regulus Black snorts.”
Evan had his head in his arms which were crossed on the table as his body shook from laughter.
“Evan!” Regulus nudged the boy. “You can’t possibly think that’s funny?”
He got no response from the Rosier boy or Barty—other than laughter, that is.
Regulus ate as he waited for the others to calm down, and when they did, the weirdest thing happened, and brought the laughter straight back to the group. Some kid a few seats away started to grow a huge beard. Uncontrollably, his hair lengthened more and more and they noticed it happening to multiple kids. Other tables were experiencing the same dilemma and Regulus couldn’t help but stare.
It wasn’t impressive, it was just a simple potion, but you’d have to make a hell of a lot of it to get it into everyone's drinks.
Not a minute after the chaos of beards and facial hair erupted did another potion seem to sprout out of nowhere. This one had a fairly different effect on the kids and people were burping bizarre green bubbles. The burps were loud and smelled putrid and the only people laughing were the Gryffindor table, who had only had a few people affected by any of this. Regulus searched the faces for the marauders, who he knew had to be up to this, and only saw Sirius at the table.
Regulus could tell he had drunk both potions since he had a brand new beard, longer than Dumbledore’s, and was burping the same nasty green gas as the other students. Maybe they were using him as cover up for the prank, ‘oh why would we prank our own friend?’. However, Regulus was pretty sure Sirius was on the outs with them, even though he’d follow them in classes and during meals.
He had noticed Sirius was never in the library with Lupin, and When Potter would go to practice (later in the day of course), Sirius had stopped accompanying him. It was odd behavior for them to exclude Sirius and he had yet to figure out the cause, but he knew he would sooner or later.
Regulus stood then, and grabbed his bag. Evan and Barty stood with him, both probably scared to get hit with the potions, and they all left the great hall together.
“Bloody marauders and their bloody pranks,” Barty spat.
“Ruining dinner for all of us,” Evan tsked with disappointment and shook his head.
“I thought the jack-o-lanterns were funny, actually,” Regulus looked to Barty.
His face was filled with offense as he looked back at the boy. “Those things can eat my ass! I cannot believe you just said that!”
Evan let out one loud laugh, “I side with Regulus.”
“Hey!” Barty pushed the boy into Regulus, who almost fell into one of the walls. A few students rushed past them, either on their way to their dorms to cry or to the infirmary, none of them could tell.
Evan and Barty argued as they walked, trying to decide whether the jack-o-lantern was actually flirting or not. Regulus knew it was, and it was so damn funny to him.
They reached the Slytherin dorms and all headed to their room to get ready for the inevitable Halloween party. Contrary to popular belief, the Slytherin parties were actually really fun. The only way to truly enjoy them, however, was to get drunk. Regulus didn’t drink, at least not more than enough to get him to a light buzz.
He knew he’d have to go, because his parents wanted him at all social events thrown by Slytherin, or people who matter (in their eyes). Although it wasn’t going to be enjoyable and he’d much rather stay in his room all night to read, but he got ready for the party anyway.
Regulus threw on some comfortable black slacks which he rarely ever wore, even though they were his favorite pair, and a simple green sweater vest, with silver accents and the family crest, over his current white button up. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, decided he didn’t like his hair the way it was—so slicked back—and ruffled it up.
That just looked worse, and he sighed and slicked it back in the usual way, one or two small strands falling forward defiantly. He stepped out of the bathroom and sat on his bed, watching as Evan buttoned Bartys shirt for him while they continued their argument.
Regulus would’ve been surprised that it hadn’t stopped if it weren’t for the playful attitude of it all now. At this point it was a game between the two to see who would run out of witty responses and reasonable explanations first.
So he listened, finding it interesting, until the tone shifted again. Both of the boys were speaking softer now, sitting on Bartys bed. Regulus looked at them with an inquiring look, before realization fell over him and his lips formed a soft ‘o’.
That made so much more sense. The sudden end to calling Regulus ‘babe’ or being chided when doing so, the odd and probably gay jokes between the two, their sudden closeness, and mostly the way Evan stopped joking about Bartys love life being shit.
Regulus hid the smile tugging on his lips as he got up to leave the room. Evan gave him an almost thankful look as he left, and turned back to Barty. Just before he shut the door, he glanced back and saw they had moved much closer than they were when he was in there.
The Slytherin let out the smallest laugh, amused by his denseness. He was happy for the two, of course, and shocked that he hadn’t noticed anything between them before, but maybe he was a little jealous. Not of one or the other but of both of them. Their relationship. The fact that they could do it, they could make it work so much easier than he could. He couldn’t make anything work. Not even his relationship with his brother.
He walked down to the common room and sat on the sofa directly across the fireplace, staring up at the still skeletal snake. He sat there for a while, and closed his eyes, recalling how unfair and fucked up his life was.
Before he knew it, he was in and out of sleep. No dreams this time, for the sleep wasn’t deep enough for that, but unpleasant feelings did sprout and try to worm their way inside his head.
The commotion of the party starting had woken him. He rubbed at his eyes absently, looking around to see a good chunk of Slytherins missing. They had probably been sent to the Infirmary due to the pranks pulled earlier that night. Regulus spotted Pandora across the room and decided to greet her.
He knew the Ravenclaws rarely threw parties since most of them didn’t attend, but the ones who would always went to other parties. Pandora preferred to go to the Slytherins since they had the most booze and Regulus was there. The two were forced together by their parents since both had few options, but Regulus didn’t mind. Pandora was a great friend and she was easy to hang out with, so being forced to date her wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
He worried at first that she could begin to have feelings for him, but when he found out she did in fact like someone else, it filled him with relief and made him comfortable to get closer to her.
“Pandora,” Regulus greeted as he stepped up to the girl.
“Regulus!” She beamed at him, reaching out for a hug. Regulus allowed for the embrace but did not hug her back.
“Sorry I wasn’t here earlier, I passed out.”
“What, did you get black out drunk that early?” She looked at him with genuine confusion.
“No,” he did not say it meanly although it may have seemed that way. “I was just tired, is all.”
“Any bad dreams?” Pandora raised an eyebrow at him, placing a hand gently on his arm.
“I wasn’t asleep long enough.”
“Oh,” Pandora nodded. “I guess that’s a good thing.”
“Very much so.” Regulus began to walk and Pandora followed.
“Do you know who’s been up to the pranks today? I mean, I assume it’s the marauders but I could always be wrong.”
“It’s definitely those four,” although Regulus knew it was only three of them. “No one else is going to turn a bunch of ghosts pink and make the jack-o-lanterns say such nasty things.”
Pandora giggled, hooking an arm in Regulus’. “You should’ve heard what they said to Magnolia!” She continued to laugh even harder, not getting a word out as he poured himself a drink.
“Tell me, then. What did they say?” Regulus smiled at her and led her to a couch, noticing she was slightly unsteady.
She gulped down her drink and began to tell her story. “Ok, so, Magnolia had just sat down when one of those nasty orange guys just popped out of nowhere. Boo!” Pandora jumped at him with her hands, but did not scare him. “And this thing,” she started giggling again. “It goes, it goes,” she cleared her throat and looked him dead in the eyes, “I heard you have a crush on the headmaster.” Pandora's lips quivered, trying to hold back a laugh. “Then, it says that,” she gives in and giggles again, “It tells her, okay? It tells her that it does too because he has such a dumpy. And then. Then, it goes ‘We should start calling him Dumpydore’,” Pandora gave in the the laughter completely, wiping tears from her eyes as she fell forward onto Regulus’ lap.
He just sat there in stunned silence, a smile slowly crossing his face. He let out a sharp laugh, playing with Pandora's blonde hair. “You are something else,” he shakes his head, smiling.
“Thank you, sir,” she said as she forced herself back up, heavily leaning on the boy. She grabbed his drink and drank about half of it, her hair falling into her face as she moved her head about.
“Any update on him?” He did not say his name, knowing that Pandora wanted it to be kept a secret, and you never do know who’s eavesdropping.
“No,” Pandora pouted as she handed his drink back. “I think, hic, that maybe he likes, hic, someone else.” She jolted each time she hiccuped.
Regulus titled his head, and took a sip of his drink, “Why?”
“He said, hic, that we couldn’t, hic, hang out next weekend, hic, at Hogsmeade.”
“You asked him about that?” Regulus felt proud of her, then, happy that she was trying.
Pandora shrugged, “I was kinda, hic, high. Kinsley, in Hufflepuff, hic, and I were, hic, smoking or whatever, hic, and then, hic, I asked him.”
“Are you sure you asked him?” Regulus asked hesitantly.
“Pretty damn, hic, sure,” Pandora nodded, her hair swinging with her lazily bobbing head. “Anyways, hic, it’ll be fine, hic.”
Regulus gave her a doubtful look. “What else happened at dinner?” He changed the subject, hoping she wouldn’t start crying all drunkenly. He didn’t bode well with crying people, let alone drunk crying people.
It felt good to sit with her that night, laughing about nothing and talking about everything. Even with Barty and Evan some of his reactions were staged or held back, but with Pandora it became so easy for him to let loose and just feel. And Merlin, did it feel good.
Just when the party started to mellow, and only a few people were still working to get drunk did some kid near the entrance scream bloody murder. The chaos of the day had still not ended. Of course.
More kids screamed in turn as people turned their heads to the kids running away. Someone was being tackled by another person. Regulus stood and headed straight to the commotion only to be met with several zombies in the entrance, one of them being the one to attack the kid. It didn’t seem like it was hurting them, but it was terrorizing them.
Regulus rolled his eyes when he realized the ripped clothing between the zombies was all in Gryffindor colors, but it seemed that no one else had noticed this small detail. Regulus grabbed his wand and flung the zombie which was attacking the kid into the air. He held it there and swung it around as the kid ran, screaming, along with most of the other students.
Some of the Slytherin were too drunk to know what was going on and just watched in utter confusion or fascination. Pandora hurried to Regulus’ side and failed each spell she tried to cast, not being able to pronounce the words, let alone get the correct wand movement.
The fifth year watched as the zombies moved about the common room, some set on other kids, some set on him and Pandora. He thought for a moment, unsure of what spell they had used to curse the zombies. It clicked, then, that they had probably used some sort of transfiguration spell. They obviously weren’t real zombies, brought back from the dead, since that just wasn’t possible, but they weren’t some actors either.
If they had decided to use real people it would’ve been far too obvious who did it or someone would’ve snitched. Regulus pointed his wand at the one closest to him, muttered a counter curse, and watched it topple to the ground, now a mannequin in shredded cloth.
He stared at it, decided he didn’t care if they fucked with the other students some more, and stepped to the side to watch in amusement. He knew everyone else left was too drunk to know what to do, so he watched as they interacted with the ‘zombies’. Someone tried flirting with one of them, which was wearing a terribly torn red ball gown, while someone else tried to get a few to drink booze. It was amusing how they didn’t run and scream but rather though they were real people.
Regulus quickly shot the counter-curse at the one being flirted with and watched as the Ravenclaw flirting with it stared in horror at the seemingly dead person. They were too drunk to realize that the person toppled to the ground in front of them was a mannequin.
He decided to shoot the counter-curse at the rest, everyone freaking out as they fell to the floor, still and unalive. Someone cried out in French, bending to their knees to hold one of the mannequins.
“Mon amour! Que t'est-il arrivé? S'il te plait, ne meurs pas pour moi!” The Slytherin yelled to the mannequin, and Regulus realized it was Barty who had fallen with it.
(Translation: “My love! What has happened? Please, do not die on me!”)
Regulus walked over to the boy, smiled down at him, and said, “He’s dead.”
Barty burst into tears. He started sobbing like the world had ended and snot ran from his nose while his face began to turn a pink-ish red. He shook the mannequin so hard it’s head popped off, and he screamed. The scream was louder than those of the initial shock and he got up, shakily, and stumbled/ran/crawled back to his dorm.
Pandora looked at Regulus in horror when he turned around. “Regulus! What did you say to the poor bloke?”
“That his love was dead,” Regulus just smiled at her, walked over, and grabbed her hand and waist.
“That’s mean,” she pouted.
“Maybe,” Regulus shrugged. “Care to dance?” He asked as the music began to play something on the verge of being classical.
“Why not?” Pandora asked as the two began to sway, Pandora unsteady and missing steps.
Regulus let the calm of the moment take over his thoughts and he focused on the girl in front of him. He focused on her pale skin, bright green eyes, and her lovely blonde hair. It was almost a shame he was gay.
The boy smiled at his own thoughts, and Pandora laughed. The two continued to dance, until both were tired and collapsed onto a couch. Pandora leaned her head on his chest, and they fell asleep. Somehow, Regulus did not have any nightmares. That night, Regulus slept dreamlessly.