PART 1, NEW YEARS EVE 1976.
Barty is completely screwed.
He thought he was well prepared for the year to come. He thought he knew what to expect, what is to come. Some things just don’t make sense. Like: the flowers springing up in the spring air and the smell of fresh flowers. Like: the sunrise covering the hilled landscape in oranges and yellows. Like: Regulus’ laugh making Barty’s heart jump every single time.
Apparently.
Regulus sits with his back straight in perfect posture, dainty hands moving swiftly through his messy curls, mouth parted slightly as he listens carefully to Pandora's rant. Still well mannered even in such a casual setting.
Yeah, completely screwed.
Their friendship is something that has remained untouched by everything. One of the only things. Well, on Regulus' side at least. To Regulus, Barty is the one person in the world that she can sit down with for a brief moment of normalcy. He can’t have that ever again, no matter what, with Sirius, or Andromeda or Narcissa or Bellatrix, or anyone who has become a prominent figure on one side of the war. Barty and Regulus are still the same, loyal friends who put each other before everything. Who can talk about anything. Who are, at their core, best friends. No, more than that, Family.
To Barty, however? Lots of things have changed.
He doesn’t know exactly when or how it happened, but somewhere along the line Regulus’ smile went from making Barty slightly pleased to taking all the air from his lungs in an instant, leaving him blank trying to form another joke to keep him smiling like that. It wasn’t intentional.
And now? Now he’s definitely screwed.
Because it’s new years eve and they’ve decided to celebrate together, because they’re sitting on opposite sides and Barty can’t take his eyes away from him, because he thinks he might be hopelessly in love with his best friend. And what a way to celebrate this new year- knowing he’ll spend it pining for someone who might never notice, or worse, might never reciprocate.
“Yes! That’s exactly why I think it was unnecessary for Slughorn to send me out of the classroom! It was so stupid, I swear” Pandora huffs as she crosses her shoulders.
“Pandora, sweetheart, I don’t know how you managed to bring the extinction of woolly mammoths into this rant, but you are so right.” Dorcas says, raising her glass in the air before bringing it to her lips. Regulus nods in agreement, copying the movement with a small smile on his lips, delighted by the company of his friends.
It’s a very small and casual gathering, something sweet after a lot of heavy things burdening all of them lately. It’s not usually what Barty prefers, but it’s fitting, and he can appreciate that. They don’t talk about the difficult things. Not even about Dumbledore's ongoing efforts to influence Hogwarts or the Dark Lords sudden strong grip over several of their families. Not of the growing unrest in the wizarding world or something as personal and stupid as their feelings. They just sit together, they laugh, and they celebrate 1977, even if it might not bring anything good at all. While they still can.
Regulus then suddenly turns his face to look at Barty, grey eyes meeting his and a warm feeling spreads throughout his body. “Barty, I think I’ll need some help with the dessert. Can you follow me to the kitchen?” Barty nods quickly and stands up before following Regulus’ lead.
They stand there, by the kitchen counter, as the faint music coming from Dorcas’ record player plays from the other room, filling the silence between them comfortably. Letting the dim lighted room cover them in shadows as the dark haired boy spends his time handling the whipped cream, putting it lightly over the chocolate pudding. Regulus can be very precise when he wants to, and he makes all of the puddings look exactly the same, perfecting the cream's position. Barty has to wonder then, how his parents can expect such delicate hands to ever be made for killing.
He wonders if his hands are more natural with it. They probably are. He never was as delicate as Regulus.
“Only 5 minutes left of 1976” Regulus wipes a bit of chocolate pudding from the original bowl and puts his finger in his mouth as he leans against the counter. “Any resolutions planned out yet?” He smiles slightly, cheeks tinted a light pink. Or that might just be the lightning.
Barty shakes his head. “None in particular. Never been one for planning things ahead” He says. Regulus hums. “That’s true. Usually I’m the opposite but, I don’t know, this time I don’t have anything. I’m looking to be inspired, but nothing is really making an impression” He doesn’t look up from his hands.
“Well, I’m lucky I suppose. I always have someone to inspire me” Barty says with ease, because it’s true, looking directly at him.
“Really, who?” Regulus asks, looking up. He wonders if Regulus is really that oblivious, or if he just wants to hear it said out loud.
“Evan always has a way of making me better.” He says, smiling slightly. You. He should’ve said you. The word burns.
The silence returns, and they can both hear Pandora laughing loudly at something Evan is doing. “You know what I think?” Regulus says, rubbing his eyes with his index fingers. “I think my brother is probably getting ready to kiss Lupin tonight. And I can’t stop thinking about it. It makes me disgusted” The image is painted perfectly in Barty’s mind. He laughs, filling the silence perfectly, and then Regulus laughs too.
“Jesus, he’s probably licking his lips and everything” Barty says with a grimace. “God, I’m glad I’m not Potter. Not even muffliato can truly hide what they’ve been up to” Regulus gags dramatically as his entire face twists. “Please, I’m going to throw up.” Regulus says and Barty just grins.
“Maybe they do it without the charm sometimes too. I bet they think it’s fun trying to be quiet in the dorms”
That earns Barty a punch in the arm, Regulus’ reaction causing him to break out in laughter. His hands really are delicate. Barty grabs his arm and pushes it towards himself, stopping any other incoming hits.
Then he realises how close they are.
Their knees are practically touching, and they’ve been inching closer during the entire conversation. He could move his head just slightly left and forward to meet Regulus’ forehead in the middle. And then it’s no effort to crash their lips together.
Barty attempts to banish the thought immediately.
But even after trying to ignore their proximity, all it takes is to meet Regulus’ eyes. Those grey eyes, sharp and deadly when intended to, now so soft. So sweet. He can’t help himself. He looks down slowly, eyeing his lips.
Yeah, pretty fucking screwed.
After a few beats Barty lets go of his arm slowly and takes a step back. He exhales heavily and turns to look at the dessert. Regulus turns as well, no longer facing Barty’s body directly. A silence fills the air.
Barty wonders what he is thinking.
“You know, Sirius probably spent two hours fixing his hair in preparation for tonight.” Barty says, attempting to ease the thick tension between them. Lighten things up.
Regulus doesn’t laugh as easily this time. He just looks back at Barty, right in the eyes, and smiles a little.
He ignores the butterflies in his stomach.
“Honestly. He’s no better than me” Regulus admits. “I brought you all the way here to the kitchen just to keep you here long enough to somehow convince you into giving me a new years kiss when the clock strikes”
Oh.
Barty’s lips part in shock for a few seconds. He stares at him, mouth agape, transfixed by his quiet confession. Then he second guesses, wonders if he just heard the wrong thing, if he got it mixed up, there’s no way that he-
Alarms ring in Regulus’ mind. “Of course, that was stupid of me. I’m sorry, I don’t know wh-”
He gets interrupted with Barty grabbing his face and pressing his lips harshly, almost in a rush against Regulus’ soft pink ones. The two met in a crash, a heated kiss, moving seamlessly with one another. And it’s right. So right. Barty traces his fingers along the skin he can access from where Regulus’ shirt ends, causing Regulus to shiver to his touch. Something he can later blame on the December cold.
Parting is painful, and everything in him tells him not to. But he needs to breathe, he needs to see Regulus’ reaction, he needs confirmation.
Regulus’ face is flushed, lips slightly glimmering giving the appearance similar to lip gloss, eyes opening slowly to look into Barty’s. Then, after a few beats, he closes his eyes with a small smile and brings his forehead to touch Barty’s.
And then they stay like that for a while.
When Barty opens his eyes again, he sees Regulus looking back. His eyes glint playfully in the afternoon light. He looks at him, and barty gets this feeling that they share a secret, like this moment is theirs and theirs alone.
He thinks the new year might turn out brighter than he initially thought.
“4, 3, 2, 1, Happy new year”
PART 2, CHRISTMAS, 1977.
“Merry Christmas Reggie!”
Evan practically throws himself at Regulus, arms branched out, as soon as he opens the door. Their meeting is a mix of laughs and limps, and when they depart, Regulus already smiles wide. “Merry Christmas Evan” Handing Evan his gift from his charmed bag.
The gift is an odd shape, wrapped neatly, and when Evan receives it he looks at it like a living embodiment of a question mark. “What can this even possibly be…?” He asks, a small laugh at the tip of his tongue, turning and shaking the gift. “You’ll see..” Regulus replies, stepping inside and slowly peeling off his outerwear.
There is a faint sound of music playing from another room in the background, followed by lively chatter and
“Is everybody here already?” Regulus asks while removing his shoes. Evan nods. “Yeah, they’re all here. Dorcas showed up just barely 3 minutes ago.” He and Regulus start walking across the broad hallway and towards the living room’s grand doors, making the noise clearer with every step. Regulus can now make out every person's individual voice, including a specific one.
He halts a bit in his walk, and looks back at his bleach blonde friend. Hesitates to face Barty.
He wonders how such a sweet and pleasant thing can turn so grim so suddenly.
September came with too many burdens on both of them, too many expectations. Too many things have gone sour. Their relationship was collateral damage.
Foolish to have been in love during times like these.
To be in love.
“You really don’t think it’ll be awkward?” Regulus asks, uncertain down to the very tone in how he says it. Evan looks at him with sympathy, placing a hand on regulus’ shoulder. “It’ll be fine, he promised me”
Alright, then.
Regulus gives in, ignoring the burn in his heart. Evan opens the big doors and immediately smiles big at the people turning around.
“GIFT EXCHANGE!” He smiles widely.
–
After a good 50 minutes of probably the most chaotic Christmas gift exchange Regulus has ever experienced, he excuses himself to get some water.
He fills the cup up generously and stands there, enjoying the silence for a few minutes, sipping slowly.
Until the door opens slightly.
He is almost like a shadow.
Regulus breathes slowly, trying to not choke on the words they want to say but cannot, and focuses on the sound of his footsteps coming nearer.
They don’t talk about much anymore. He has barely seen him recently, despite living together. One dorm room, bed to bed, yet so much space. Barty was still spying on his father, acting as a dutiful son, and insisted on finishing his duties despite Regulus knowing what torture it truly is to him.
Talking to Barty used to be the easiest, most natural thing in the entire world. They had a true connection, a bond so strong. They were forged by fire and it set them apart. He liked to think it was aligned by the universe. Written in the stars.
Barty walks past him and grabs a glass as well, filling it up, and stands next to him. Both of them sipping their water slowly.
He should say something, anything. He should try to make small talk, mentioning the awful Christmas weather. He should try to make it easier for them to fall back into their usual banter, back to how it used to be, but Regulus knows he’s never been an easy person.
It barely registers when Barty moves closer towards him; Regulus accepts it automatically, used to his presence. He thinks Barty is looking at him, but he is so focused on breathing properly he can’t tell anymore.
The world snaps back into focus when Barty brings his hand out in front of him, holding out a gift, the movement washing down on his senses like a bucket of ice. He blinks, and now Barty’s face is as clear as glass; every worried crease on his forehead, every speck of green in his brown eyes.
“I have a gift for you too.” Barty murmurs, holding the square shaped item, wrapped in dark paper. It was against their rules, so they promised. No gifts. “I couldn’t help myself.” Barty hands are holding it out for him to grab, and so Regulus puts the glass down and accepts it.
He undoes the wrapping quite easily, Barty isn’t quite the perfectionist Regulus is, so it was very easy to peel off. Under it is a book. His effort to remain his breathing neutral is thrown out the window, because his words get stuck in his throat as he look at the cover.
The book. His favourite muggle book that he had to burn when Sirius left, to avoid his mother finding out. The one that he could never find in the same copy, same size.
He opens the book slowly to see Bartys handwriting on the inside cover page.
He looks back at Barty, and he’s beautiful. Really. It’s no exaggeration. The faint yellow kitchen light is good on him, gives his skin a sheen that some just seem to be born with. And it hits him again: how much he wants this to work. How it probably won’t.
“Thank you.” Regulus says it in a whisper, intimately. He can’t form any other words. It is the perfect gift. Much better than any robe, any broom.
Regulus only realises his hands are shaking when Barty clasps them gently in his, his warmth smooth against Regulus’ winter skin. It’s gesture so familiar and comforting to him that he lets himself fall into it, just for a moment.
Barty caresses his fingers lightly, noticing the scar that now has turned a smooth pink. He runs his fingertips over it.
“When did that happen?” Barty asks carefully, holding Regulus’ hand. “About a month ago” Regulus answers.
The silence is back.
Barty looks different like this. Vulnerable, almost. Without thinking Regulus moves even closer to him. They’ve been foolish to have been in love during times like these.
To be in love.
“To be honest. I have a gift for you too.” Regulus says then, slowly unwrapping his hands from Bartys. “But I didn’t want to face you and give it in person. So it’s waiting for you at home. I owled it.'' It sounds ridiculous when he says it, and he regrets it as he tastes it on his lips. Barty smiles and nods. “I can’t wait to go home now”
Silence again.
Barty hesitates, then. “You make me weak”
“Barty.”
“Regulus.”
So many things unsaid.
There is a crack along his chest and he thinks he could cry then. “Don’t make me sad, mon amour” Regulus says. Barty shuts his eyes tightly at the term of endearment, one he hasn’t heard in a long while. “Call me that again.” He begs, weak. Both of them giving in. “Mon amour.” It’s easy for Regulus to listen.
“You know that you’re everything to me, right, Barty?” Regulus confesses. “You’ve been everything to be, long before last year. Long before I realised it. Everything.” He runs his fingers along Barty’s face, going from his hair until the edge of his jaw. “I had a feeling.” Barty jokes, but nothing about his tone is unserious. “Regulus, I want you to show me.” And he’s serious.
Regulus' smile comes naturally as his fingers form to cup Bartys face, bringing it close to him, their foreheads resting against each other once again. Their brown and black hair, mixing and pressing down, their flushed cheeks touching. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
“Merry christmas Regulus”
“Merry christmas, mon amour”
He smiles. “Just one more time”
“Merry christmas mon amour”
PART 3, CHRISTMAS, 1978
“Can you all just enter the fucking frame already?! Crouch, is your hair really that important? Stop it!” Dorcas shouts out of pure frustration, having waited for everyone to finish up in preparation for the 1978 Christmas picture.
Barty turns around smugly, pulls out his middle finger, and then returns to fixing his hair in the mirror, silver rings reflecting the light against the surface perfectly. He adjusts everything three or four times before silencing the others by finally, hands up in the air, heads towards the camera.
He slides easily through the other’s posed positions and stands next to Regulus, a small smile on his face as they look at each other. Regulus looks back, and Barty thinks he might be the prettiest boy he has ever seen. As if it’s the first time he looks at him again. He acknowledges that he might never get sick of feeling like this, being close to him like this, loving him like this.
He plants a soft kiss on his jaw, quickly but neatly, as he turns to finalise his position. Then Dorcas finally gets her way, and the flashlight temporarily blinds him with a click noise.
It’s a good christmas. The sort of Christmas you’ll review over and over again for the rest of your life, set your standards according to. One of those Christmases he thinks he’ll miss during the slow days.
The dinner is filled with banter, as always, between absolutely everyone. It’s almost like a game of whoever can make fun of the other in the most hilarious way, quick remarks being thrown out from the left to the right. Barty laughs so hard he can barely breathe, and when he sees Regulus laughing too, from next to him, he actually loses the ability to breathe.
The dinner is pleasant, a potluck of different meals. Everybody brought something that they really liked and it made for an interesting and varied mix. It’s hard to impress a group of people who all eat dinner at Hogwarts as a daily thing, but they managed quite well. The thing Barty appreciates the most is the gingerbread Pandora brought, all of them designed individually in unique patterns and colours.
He grabs about five and hands Regulus three of them. Regulus grabs his hand under the table and interlocks their fingers, running his thumb against Barty back, forth and in circles.
To be in love. To be in love during foolish times. When he is with Regulus he feels like they could go to the moon and back without ever even leaving.
Barty closes his eyes and smiles a little. He sure is screwed, because he doesn’t think he’ll ever fall out of love with his best friend.