Before Break
Regulus’ POV
“I can’t,” Regulus said, shoving the vial back at Sirius. His brother smirked as he popped off the cork lid.
“Scared, Regulus Black?” He sneered, pouring the few drops into Dumbledore’s goblet. They only guessed it was his, as it was set at his usual spot, but they couldn’t be sure because they were sneaking about in the kitchens rather than trying to throw it in at dinner.
“No,” Regulus grumbled, turning away. “I’m simply giving myself an alibi. I didn’t pour it into his drink, now, did I?”
Sirius gaped. “So you’re just going to pin it on me, are you?”
Regulus threw a mischievous grin his way and strutted away. Sirius’ steps echoed behind him as he protested, trying to convince his brother to save his ass. The younger boy just kept on walking, holding back laughter.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-
Dinner that night was less eventful than either of them had thought it would be. While the intention was revenge and Regulus had dearly hoped to get Dumbledore in trouble with the ministry (assuming he’s done something), that wasn’t exactly the outcome. Not that he was displeased but it could have been better.
Regulus had been picking at his food, listening to Evan and Barty bicker, when Dumbledore stood up for a second speech that night. He’d given Sirius a quick glance, who returned it with a wild grin.
The headmaster cleared his throat and a loud silence followed, the whole school watching on in confusion. “Students, professors,” he bowed slightly to us and then behind to the teachers. “I hope you are all enjoying tonight’s feast so far. I merely wish to say a few words before this upcoming break.
“First, I am very proud of all of your hard work this year. I have heard great things from all of your teachers. Secondly, I’d like to thank Professor Slughorn and Professor McGonagall for their contributions to the quidditch effort this year.”
Regulus zoned out as he droned on and on with thanks and praise, reciting things everyone was already aware of. When gasps sparked throughout the crowd, however, his head shot up. Dumbledore was leaning on the podium in front of him, seemingly nauseous or dizzy, he didn’t know. Slughorn was next to him in seconds, grabbing hold of his shoulder and elbow for support.
Dumbledore’s voice carried through the entire hall, above the whispers of students, while Slughorns stayed quiet to prying ears. “Why yes,” the headmaster said cheerily. “You have such a lovely face, did you know that?”
Slughorn muttered a reply, holding back a smile. “No, really, you’re rather handsome,” Dumbledore said in an almost flirtatious tone.
Regulus’ mouth fell open and he glanced at Sirius with shock. The old Black brother was giggling with his friends but did not fail to catch Regulus’ look, which simply sent him into a more aggresive fit of laughter. Other students who had processed what was happening were laughing or snickering as well, watching the two older men hurry from the great hall.
“You’re too kind, Horace,” Dumbledore gushed. It was all that could be heard as the large doors swung shut. Through the last little slice of vision Regulus swore he saw Dumbledore lean in for a kiss.
Students immediately turned to friends, gossiping about the interaction and Dumbledore’s unusual state. Regulus indulged Evan and Barty in a little bit of talk but overall did not contribute. The slytherin worried he might say something to give himself away. Not that he was a bad liar, but if it came to breaking the law, he’d rather be safe than sorry.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-
For the first time in a long time Regulus felt a full anxiety creeping into his system. His footsteps seemed louder than usual, the moon brighter, walls closer.
Deep breaths, Regulus told himself as he walked through the castle's empty corridors. Somehow he’d made it the whole school year with a panic attack, he didn’t want to start now.
After the knot in his chest unraveled he pushed open the doors to the music room, unsurprised to see it empty. He, of course, had arrived before Potter.
Regulus sat at the piano bench, tapping away at keys but not playing any particular song. Potter was taking longer than he would’ve liked. It had been the sixth year's idea anyway, if he didn’t want to speak with him why bother asking?
Regulus scoffed and slammed a hand down on the keys. The loud notes covered the noise of the door opening behind him.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, resting his head on his heads as the keys shouted under his elbows.
After looking up, he saw James sat precariously on the bench. Regulus almost fell off, his earlier fear not helping the jumps are.
“Prick,” he grumbled as he caught himself before tumbling over.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have been playing so angrily,” Potter chuckled. Regulus bit the inside of his cheek to fight off a smile, pushing down the warmth filling his chest.
“I can play however I like,” he said quietly, turning back to the keys. However, Regulus did not play anything. Instead, he waited for James to speak.
The Slytherin shot him an angry glance. He had a sweet, admiring sort of look on his face. He seemed expectant, and apparently he was. “Aren’t you going to play?” James asked quietly, as if him being too loud would shatter the piano, and he tilted his head slightly.
The Slytherin watched him for a few seconds. “Why not,” he sighed and placed his hands just above the notes. “One song, then we talk.”
Each note landed like a leaf falling into water, almost graceful but not quite. He found himself playing a piece by Tchaikovsky which he’d memorized that summer. It wasn’t a very loud song, like most of his favorites, but it was fun to play.
When he hit the last notes with extreme gusto and a dramatic show of feeling, he turned to see James had scooted closer, leaning in like he might be absorbed by the music.
Regulus bit back a smile and cleared his throat. “Talk,” he said and shut the fallboard, resting his palms on the sleek black wood.
“I want this to work.” James paused as if expecting a response, but Regulus said nothing. “I know you think you’re a bad person, that I’m making a dumb decision, that this is all gonna fall apart, but please, please at least try.”
James tugged at Regulus’ arm and he reluctantly turned to face him. He was stubborn. Clearly. But also because of stories Sirius used to tell him, he knew James was stubborn. If this is what he wanted he wouldn’t back down so easily.
“Reg,” James said, so quietly Regulus wasn’t sure if he’d made it up or not.
The Slytherins eyes fell in and out of focus, trying to fall down to the other boy's lips. No, he thought, no, I can’t. His mind raced and thoughts tumbled about, but he failed to form a sentence, instead making some weird strangled noise.
The other boy reached for Regulus’ face, holding it gently with one hand. James’ eyes seemed so bright in the scarce light of that room. He seemed like the sun itself.
I’ll get you killed if you don’t hate me first, Regulus thought as he felt a tear fall down his face.
James wiped it away with his thumb, offering a sweet, sad smile. He leaned forward and kissed Regulus. It wasn’t passionate or hungry, but it was soft and comforting. Regulus did not return it, as he was too jumbled to function, but James didn’t seem to care.
He held the kiss for a few seconds more before pulling away. James’ hand fell to his lap and Regulus’ face felt suddenly cold.
“You hate me,” Regulus forced out. It wasn’t right, but it was close enough, that would eventually be true.
“No,” James shook his head and moved his hand to hold Regulus’. “No I don’t.”
Regulus felt the tightness of his jaw, the burning in the back of his eyes. There was nothing he could do. James would destroy himself trying to make this work or Regulus would destroy him if it did. There was no winning.
He stood, breaking free of James’ grip, and looked down at him with a pained expression. Regulus shook his head, only slightly, a gesture that could go unnoticed, and slowly backed up.
“Reg,” James said again, standing as he offered a hand, which he quickly took back.
“No,” the younger boy said hoarsely as he turned and hurried from the room in long, quick strides.
No, no. His head spun as he entered the moonlit corridors. He has to hate me, he thought to himself as he felt the tears well in his eyes. His vision was blurry, and although it was hard to see, Regulus hurried on.
There were no steps indicating James had followed him but he rushed on as though he were being chased. Somehow he found himself back in the Slytherin dorms, dizzy and disoriented.
Evan was awake when he entered, immediately standing to support the boy. “What the hell, Black,” he said as he sat him on Regulus’ bed.
Regulus dropped his forehead onto Evans shoulder and let out silent, heaving sobs. Fuck you, Potter. You’re gonna fucking ruin yourself and I’ll be the one to blame.
“Hey,” Evan said comfortingly as the tears began to slow and Regulus managed to catch his breath. “What happened?”
Regulus looked at him, searching his eyes for something that was not there, and he told him. Not entirely, not with details, yet he told enough. Either way, who else could he tell? Dorcas, sure, but Evan was here, right now, and that was someone he could trust. For once Regulus was glad Barty was such a heavy sleeper.
When he finished his long, exhausted tale, Evan just stared at him with pity. Pity. The word was sour in his mind.
“Shit, dude,” Evan breathed, missing the angry look from Regulus. “Fuck,” he breathed.
Regulus said nothing. He just willed the boy away, begging that Merlin just let him sleep.
“I think you have to give him a chance,” Evan said quietly.
Regulus’ face eased, only slightly, because of his hurt tone. Why should he give Potter a shot? He’d just hate him sooner, and Regulus didn’t want to see that look on his face.
“You said it yourself, he’ll drive himself mad chasing you.”
The younger Black stared at Evan, tired and unblinking.
They both waited for the other to speak, and Evan gave in first.
He sighed, stood, and patted Regulus’ knee. “Goodnight,” he said quietly. “Sleep on it, ok?”
Regulus nodded and Evan gave him a forced smile, heading back to his own bed where a book lay abandoned.
He could not think of a good reason to sleep on it. There was nothing to sleep on. All of it was clear in his mind. The inevitable hateful look, the false love, the judgment of others. Everything.
But somehow Potter failed to see it. The only image in his mind was perfect days with Regulus and quiet nights with just the two of them. Life had been too kind to let him imagine the destruction that would come with the two being together.
This could never happen, and it never would. Regulus wouldn’t let it.
Not if he could help it.