There had always been thoughts. Thoughts Regulus didn’t want to be true.
He locked them away, in the most forgotten place of his heart, where they came from. He forbade himself to think about it. It was wrong. Sick fantasies, he told himself. A phase. It would pass.
To Regulus horror the problem didn’t just disappear.
The thoughts came again, again, and again, relentlessly demanding his attention, and with every day it got harder to push them away.
Thoughts, vague ideas turned into feelings. Regulus had never been good at dealing with feelings. He mostly tried to ignore him, choosing to rather be cold and heartless, then a lovesick fool like his older brother Sirius.
But this time, these feelings - they were too much.
It was the summer after Regulus’ fourth year, unbearably hot and his mother had forced him in yet another elegant dress she liked. Dress up, it felt like he was a doll,and his mother was playing dress up with him.
Sirius was somewhere in the house, either still getting punished or laying on the floor, trying to gather enough strength to make it back to his room. And while they hadn’t exactly talked a lot in the first two weeks of break, Regulus decided to look for him. The screaming had stopped, so he considered it safe enough to leave his room.
Sirius wasn’t laying in a pool of blood for once, but hair.
For his brother, Regulus thought, the cut of his precious, long hair – which admittedly looked very good on him – was probably way worse than just some curses. Their mother had stunned him or so it seemed, and Regulus muttered the counter spell.
Sirius got up rather quickly, eyes red, and left with a quick nod towards him, which was already more than Regulus had expected, if he was being honest. He was left with a pile of hair on the floor and as he motioned to let it vanish, an idea formed in Regulus head.
Regulus still had Polyjuice left from when he had tried brewing some variations in Hogwarts and put one of Sirius’ hairs into the liquid.
Watched it dissolve. Twirled the vial in his hand. Drank it, then.
It shouldn’t feel so good.
Regulus hair was shorter, lighter.
He ran his hand over his chest that was flat for once. It even felt easier to breathe too, he thought.
It feels so right.
When the potion wore off and his body changed back, the thoughts stayed. Like poison, but why was it giving him life then?
Regulus buried his face in his pillows in a very much not ladylike way that his mother would certainly have scolded him for. He started crying again, but not out of a feeling of relief, no, this time taking ragged breaths, chest suddenly very tight again.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
Regulus didn’t have a lot to do during break, spending most of his time in his room, hiding from his mother’s wrath. It gave him a lot of time to think about what he was experiencing.
It took a lot of time to accept it. That he, Regulus was a boy. And maybe he’d felt it all along, but now realizing it, everything seemed to make sense.
Regulus, having long given up on anything like hoping or wishing for a different outcome, stopped fighting his feelings, spending hours over hours imagining himself in another body, using all Polyjuice he could find to slip into his brother's body. He even started collecting ideas for a new name.
The clearer those visions became, the more he knew how useless it all was. His mother would never approve, his mother who got anything the way she wanted would never give up her little doll. The more he wanted to be Regulus the more that boy seemed to slip away from him.
Some nights when reality caught him, Regulus cried himself to sleep. When had he become this emotional, it was pathetic, I am pathetic.
Sometimes the dark was suffocating him, sometimes it offered protection.
Most days Regulus whole body itched from the dresses, most days he couldn’t even look at his reflection. One day he shattered the mirror in one of the bathrooms, not caring enough to fix it. So what if his mother found it, so what if he was a disappointment, maybe she’d torture him to the point he would lose his mind and then he would be free of every thought and feeling.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
„What the actual fuck-” Regulus froze in horror.
No. That couldn’t be happening. Hadn’t he locked the door? What was Sirius even doing here, hadn’t he gone out?
“I can explain-”, he started, but his brother didn’t even think to listen. As always.
“I don’t think there’s anything you would need to explain, I have a pretty good idea of what you are trying to do!”, Sirius shouted, still shocked but was there also… surprise in his voice?
“You were trying to do something forbidden looking like me. Isn’t it enough that I took the blame for the shattered mirror yesterday and got cursed for you, no that wouldn’t be enough for you ungrateful coward-”
“You know, I didn’t ask you to take the blame, that was all your martyr complex, because you like to think that I depend on your help”, Regulus spit back.
“That’s not the point!”, Sirius retorted - mind, he didn't deny it -, raising an eyebrow. “What were you trying to do then, if not make something look like it’s my fault?”
“That’s none of your business!”
“Sure it is, that’s my body you’re wearing.”
“Well, I’m not going to tell you”, Regulus said, crossing his arms.
So, Sirius came to the absurd conclusion that only a true Black descendant and a product of incest was capable of drawing: “You have a crush on me!”
“What?! Merlin, what is wrong with you-”, and Regulus must have looked so disgusted that Sirius actually believed him without raising that stupid eyebrow again.
“So you were trying to commit a crime after all?”, Sirius asked.
“I already said it’s not that”, Regulus insisted.
“Then what is it?”, Sirius probed, and Regulus suddenly wished he had simply gone with Sirius accusation.
“It’s nothing. Can’t we just act like this never happened?”, he asked, slumping down on his bed. And then added silently: “Please.”
Sirius looked at him, now worried, because when was the last time Regulus had asked his older brother for a favour?
Regulus felt his proportions changing, the weight of his hair growing back to waist length as he buried his face in his hands, his fingers pressing into his eyes until it hurt. Sirius said down next to him, laying a hand tentatively on his shoulder.
“Whatever it is, tell me. I promise I won’t laugh or judge. I’m still your older brother”, he tried.
“You wouldn’t understand”, Regulus bit back, but it came out weaker than he wanted. Part of him was sure, Sirius would laugh at him and then tell him to forget his delusional daydreams. That it was just a phase or whatever. And another part of Regulus was convinced, that Sirius would understand best, another part of Regulus dared to hope. Because Regulus wanted to tell someone so desperately.
Regulus hated himself a bit for letting that foolish part win.
“I put your hair into the potion because we look similar, if you like it or not, but we are brothers and cousins…”
Sirius snorted at that. “But that doesn’t explain why you would want to look like me.”
“I don’t want to look like you”, Regulus tried to explain. “It’s just – when I am in your body, things are different. Well, obviously, but things are better then-”.
“I don’t think being me is a particularly nice experience”, Sirius interrupted, which caused Regulus to groan in annoyance, but also cast a slightly worried glance at his brother because Sirius had sounded like he meant it.
“If you disrupt me one more time, I won’t say another word”, he warned, his mind still processing what his older brother had said.
“It’s better, because…” Regulus hesitated. He was really going to say it, wasn’t he. “Well, your chest is flat for example. When I’m in your body I have shorter hair. I’m taller, my hips aren’t so wide and I get to know what it feels like to be a boy.”
He wanted to look away, because Sirius’ eyes were full of thoughts that slowly formed into understanding, his gaze so intense, but Regulus couldn’t tear his eyes away, because he needed to see. If he didn’t see it himself, that there wasn’t any disgust in his brother’s eyes, he would never believe it, no matter what Sirius might say.
“You want to be a boy?”, Sirius asked.
“I hate being a girl”, he said, because there was so much about it that Regulus still didn’t understand, had yet to figure out. “I hate the way it makes me look, and the way it feels, and really, everything about it. I- But yeah, I think I would want that. Be a boy.”
Sirius nodded, smiling at him then. “Have you thought of any name that you’d rather be called by?”
“Regulus”, he said, his voice silent but steady. He had meant to say it more like a question, but it came out as a statement, and there was a warm feeling of pride somewhere in his chest that made him blush slightly.
“Regulus. You really like those star names, don’t you?”, his brother grinned, nudging him.
“And you never paid attention in astronomy classes, did you? It means ‘heart of the lion’.”
Sirius face contorted in a combination of love and pain when he realized.
“Oh”, he whispered, his eyes searching for Regulus’ gaze. The next moment Sirius threw himself on his brother with such a force that they both fell over, ruining the neatly made bed, and wrapped his arms around him tightly.
Regulus had forgotten how nice it felt, being hugged by his brother. The warmth and safety only Sirius could make him feel and it reminded him of better days he couldn’t remember clearly anymore.
“I love you”, Sirius mumbled into his shoulder.
Regulus froze in his embrace.
“You – don’t hate me?”
“What? Of course not, I know I’m not always nice but-”
“No, I mean you don’t hate me for that?”
It took Sirius a moment to realize what Regulus was talking about, where the bitterness in his tone came from. Because, oh, Regulus didn’t know.
“You know there’s nothing wrong with what you’re feeling, right?”, Sirius asked slowly, his voice pained, because what did Regulus think? What did he tell himself and how often did he beat himself up for his own feelings? But how was Regulus to know when there was no one to tell him.
“It’s called transgender. It’s not too common, but there are other people who are like you, wizards and muggles. There’s nothing wrong with you, Regulus, I promise.”
His brother was silent. Sirius held him a little tighter, if that was even possible at this point.
There were other people. Like him. His feelings weren’t, well, sick fantasies. Regulus blinked furiously, refusing to start crying. No need to get weepy. The whole moment felt too surreal. He had told Sirius his secret. Sirius was hugging him, had told him he loved him.
There’s nothing wrong with you.
There’s nothing wrong with you.
There’s nothing wrong with you.
When had been the last time that Regulus allowed himself to cry in front of his brother? But now he did, his face buried in Sirius’ shoulder. And it was oddly comforting, their short moment of peace in each other’s arms. The same way as when they’d been younger, Regulus for a moment forgetting the world around them. Sirius protecting him, realizing that his relationship with his brother might not be lost after all.
It was only minutes, but it could have been hours or even days that they lay together on Regulus’ bed. He finally sat up, wiping his eyes, but a hint of a smile on his face.
“I should probably go downstairs, we can’t let our dear Mother wait, now, can we? And, uh, maybe do something about your hair if you don’t want to be cursed for dinner”, Sirius gestured, getting up.
Regulus reached for his hair that had once been pinned up in an elegant, but strict way. Their mother’s doing.
“Maybe I should just cut it off”, he grimaced.
“You’d look good with shorter hair”, Sirius said.
Neither of them mentioned then how it would be impossible for Regulus to ever be himself while he lived in this house.
“Thanks for trusting me”, Sirius whispered, the door almost closed. Regulus sat there and watched it falling shut, thinking I love you too, Sirius.