VIII
When Regulus stepped into the Grimmauld place, it was awfully quiet. He couldn't hear anything except his own breathing and his footsteps hitting the floor. He slowly moved into the dining room and peeked in. There were seated nine heads covered in black hoods. When they noticed him, they all took their masks off. Voldemort was sitting at the head of the table, his parents at his right side. They both looked angry and disappointed. Evan and his father were sitting next to them, Evan wearing a guilty expression on his face. What surprised Regulus the most though, was who was sitting to the Dark Lord's left side. It was Dumbledore, in all of his glory. He was sitting there, looking at him with a wicked smile. Regulus gave him a puzzled expression. He didn't understand what was happening. Why were they all here?
If Dumbledore was there, did that mean James was in trouble too? He was sure that if he just explained it, he could get James out of this. He couldn't get punished for dating a death eater. He couldn't get punished for dating Regulus.
If James was in trouble, then why would Dumbledore be sitting in his house alongside his nemesis?
"Regulus, welcome home," the Dark Lord stood up as he greeted him. "We haven't seen you in a while. Where about were you?"
Well, fuck, Regulus thought.
He was absolutely fucked.
Regulus opened his mouth to mutter out a lie, but the Dark Lord stopped him in his tracks. "No need to answer that, my child. We all already know."
Four men that were sitting the closest to him then stood up and grabbed him. They all apparated out of the house.
Regulus didn't know where he was, he didn't know what was happening. He was tied to a chair and had his eyes blindfolded. They had knocked him out so he wouldn't see the location of their whereabouts. It was supposed to make him more disoriented. It was supposed to make it harder for him to escape.
He could hear footsteps approaching and he automatically snapped his head in the direction of the sound. Someone took his blindfold off and he had to squint because of the light that hit his eyes suddenly.
"Well, well, well. You've been naughty, Regulus," the Dark Lord approached him with a hint of amusement in his voice.
Regulus locked eyes with him, when realization hit him. "You tracked down my wand."
"You mean this wand?" He raised his eyebrows as he waved his wand in front of his face. He held eye contact with him as he snapped it in half. Regulus winced at the movement. "Don't worry, you won't be needing that much anymore. After I'm done with you, you won't even remember your own name." A bunch of death eaters snickered at his comment.
The Dark Lord then pulled out his own wand and pointed it towards him. "Legilimens," he casted the spell and Regulus' mind went hazy.
He could feel how the Dark Lord roamed his mind. He traveled from one memory to another and fed on his despair. He focused on his memories with James mainly, trying to figure out what the relationship between them was. He could see the first couple of their interactions, the first conversations they had. He could feel how he felt at the time, he felt the hatred and jealousy towards him once more. He skipped through memories only to stop at the ones he needed. He stopped at their first kiss. Regulus could feel James' lips pressed against his own. He stopped at their first date, at the first time James told him he loved him. He watched all of their firsts as an intruder. He didn't belong in those memories, Regulus didn't want him there. Eventually, he stopped at the first time they ever made love to each other. Regulus could feel tears streaming down his face. He wanted it to stop.
And just like that, it did. It was over just as fast as it started. The Dark Lord was out of his mind, but the memories were still stained by his presence.
"I see…" The Dark Lord started. "You're not just a traitor, are you? You're also a faggot."
He could see his mother try to go to him from the corner of his eye, but his father held her back. He didn't even notice them standing there before. That much for supportive parents.
"No, it's alright, Orion. He's all yours, I'm done with him." The Dark Lord spared him one more look before he left the room.
Just as the door closed behind him, his mother rushed to him. She slapped him. Regulus didn't expect any less from her.
"You fucking faggot!" She yelled. "You're just like your stupid brother."
She took her wand out and casted crucio. He could feel the pain stretch from his stomach to his whole body, to the tips of his fingertips, to his hair even. He screamed in agony and tried to curl into a ball. His father joined her a moment later, both casting the curse and making the pain worse than ever.
Regulus had experienced being under the cruciatus curse many times before, but it was never like this. It was so much stronger than ever before. He was feeling so much pain that he began to feel nothing. He could only scream and beg them to stop.
It felt like hours, when something unexpected happened. His mind traveled elsewhere. Into a memory, of sort. Except he didn't remember any of what he was seeing.
He was a child, around eleven years old. He was getting into the Hogwarts express. He walked into one of the compartments to find a boy sitting there. He had blondish hair, green eyes and he seemed taller than him. He was wearing a wolfish grin when they locked eyes.
His mind became a blur before passing on to another memory.
They were older now. They were on their brooms playing quidditch. Evan was there too. They looked happy. In another memory, they looked around fourteen. They were all stuffed in the small window of their room. They were passing around a strangely rolled cigarette. They were coughing a lot and trying to keep from laughing.
The picture disappeared and suddenly it was just him and the other boy leaning against the window frame. They were talking about something serious. Regulus seemed worried and the other boy was missing a few fingers.
The picture changed again. They were both in Regulus' bed now. The blond boy was laying, panting underneath him. Regulus held his wrists above his head. The boy's lips were swollen and his neck was covered in bruises. They had been making out.
In the next picture, they were both naked. The curtains were closed, so it was a little harder to see. He could suddenly feel immense pleasure. He could hear moans and the other boy's sighs in his ear. They were making love. Regulus' hips were meeting the other's. They both started giggling, and then their lips met. It was a slow passionate kiss. He felt happy.
And in that moment, he didn't feel pain, nor anger. He didn't feel anything. There was only one word on his mind.
Barty.
Barty.
Oh, Barty. He remembers now. He remembers everything that happened. How he erased himself from his memories and sacrificed himself in that cave. It all makes sense now. Everything suddenly made sense. Why Evan has been acting so weird, why he has been acting so weird. Everything suddenly sat in place. And all of the memories came back, but he never would. Barty wasn't coming back.
Regulus felt so many emotions. He wanted to cry. He felt so happy that he remembered his best mate, but he felt like dying at the thought of his death. He didn't care about anything anymore. All the torture didn't matter now. It was only Barty that mattered to him.
But then, another memory emerged.
July 1973
Regulus was sitting on his bed, legs brought up to his chest with his back leaning against the wall. His eyes were dry, not a sign of tear in sight, though he was drowning with them on the inside. He was tugging at his hair, a habit he picked up during the past few months. He tried to stop with it, he didn't want to rip all his precious hair out, though it was the only thing that seemed to calm him.
They shared a family dinner earlier that evening, like they always used to. His parents insisted on dining together like a proper family, no matter the loathing. His brother, Sirius, he was bold tonight. Too bold. Their parents shared a small talk about the news in the wizarding world and their disagreement with the changes, since it was one of the only things they agreed on. Their parents never had a lot in common, except the shared interest in torturing their children, of course. They both did even that in their own ways, though. Their father being more passive, yet trenchant, while their mother always came up with new creative ways to make their life a living hell.
Sirius knew the danger of speaking up. He knew the consequences, he knew they would never allow him to have his own opinion. He knew, yet he was too stubborn to listen. In the middle of their conversation, he abruptly clashed his fists against the table, drawing all the eyes of the room to him. Regulus had gulped nervously, already having known what was about to go down.
"Can you fucking stop? Can't you see you're being ridiculous?" Sirius had asked. A wrinkle had already formed on their mother's forehead, in between her eyebrows, indicating her rising rage. "Doesn't matter what blood they have, they're people. Good people," his brother spoke with such calmness, with a purpose. "I'm friends with many muggle borns in Hogwarts, half-bloods, too. They're the best people I've ever met. Why can't you just see?" Sirius begged.
Regulus never really understood his brother. They both knew their parents wouldn't change. It was too late for them, they were evil to the core.
His mother stood up and turned to Regulus. "Regulus, darling, go to your room. We're just going to have a talk with your brother."
Regulus obliged, though he could see through his mother's deceiving eyes. He saw the way her jaw clenched whenever she glared at Sirius. He could hear her breath hitching, as she tried to cover her true intentions.
Regulus knew what was happening behind the closed doors. He knew it damn well. He didn't approve of it, of course he didn't, but what else could he do? He was a coward. He was too weak to stand up to them like his brother, so he just stayed quiet. He'd rather stay low in his room than get himself killed by the people who gave him life.
"Regulus, can you come out? Me and your father would like to show you something," his mother called out, her voice mellifluous. It was making him feel uneasy.
He carefully stood up on his shaky legs and opened the door. His mother was already on the stairs, not turning around even after she heard her son's steps behind her. Regulus had walked into the living room right after her. His father was sitting in his armchair, nonchalantly reading the newspaper. Walburga turned to him suddenly, to which he flinched. He cursed himself for it internally. He can't let her see his weak side.
"Darling, you know I would never hurt you, right?" She'd asked. Her voice was like honey when she didn't shout, sweet and smooth. It made him sick. "Now, let this serve as a lesson as to what will happen if you don't listen to your parents."
She stepped aside and just now Regulus noticed the limb sticking out from behind the sofa. He shot a quick glance to his mother, who still wore the same smile. He took hesitant steps towards the body. He could feel his heart beating in his throat. It was pumping up blood all the way to his mouth. He would've swore he could taste the iron savor on his tongue. He peeked behind the sofa and his breath hitched.
Sirius' limp body was lying there on the ground in a puddle of blood. There were no signs of movement, he seemed unconscious. Was he breathing? Regulus wanted so badly to reach out and check. Though, he felt as if he was petrified. He couldn't move an inch. He could just stand there and stare at Sirius. His brother.
There was so much blood, though he wasn't sure what was the source of it. He didn't see any open wounds, except the cut marks all around his body. But it couldn't be those, could it? They weren't that big and deep to cause this much damage, were they? Regulus didn't know much about wounds and how to treat them. He had wished he knew more at that moment.
Sirius' whole body was covered in bruises and scars. Was he always this skinny? Or was it just the effect of seeing his body in this state? Sirius looked so small like this, smaller than Regulus. His face was contrasting with his body. It was all swollen and bloodshot. His hair was a mess as well, it looked shorter than before. Had they cut it? He wondered. Sirius had always loved his hair more than anything, it would probably hurt him even more than the bruises once he woke up.
Sirius' limbs were curled in unnatural ways. Human body shouldn't stretch like that. Regulus was no expert on fractures, but he was pretty sure his brother's limbs were broken. So was his nose, it seemed. It was plugged to the side, refusing to move back to the center.
His eyes were open, staring nowhere in particular. They seemed lifeless. He wasn't blinking. Why wasn't he blinking? Bloody tears were streaming down his face. Sirius' arm twitched, breaking Regulus out of his trance. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground. He crawled forward, towards his brother, scared of getting stopped by his mother. He cupped his face in his palms and wiped away the tears. He gently laid his head onto his lap and cradled it close to him.
"Sirius…" Regulus let out. His voice was hoarse and meek. He figured it'd be no use in speaking now, so he just brought Sirius closer to him and held him tighter. He leaned in closer and placed a tender kiss to his forehead. His clothes and hands were now painted crimson, yet he didn't care. His brother needed him. Everything else was not important.
"Alright, my turn now," Orion Black's voice echoed through the silence of the room. Regulus could hear the rustling of the newspaper being placed on the coffee table and screeching of the armchair as his father stood up. He just squeezed his eyes shut and gripped his brother tighter.
He could feel his father's hand on his shoulder, shoving him away. Regulus hit the ground and quickly pulled himself up again. "No! No, please!" He begged.
His mother slapped him on the cheek. "Shut up!" She grabbed his elbow and dragged him further away from his brother. "How dare you raise your voice at us?" She hissed.
Regulus turned his gaze towards the room again. The last thing he saw was his brother being undressed by their father. Sirius obliviated this memory from him later that year.
13th April 1976
Regulus was in the shower of his dorm. He just stood there, letting the cool drops of water fall and dance on his skin. He felt like shit. He didn't want to feel that way, but he couldn't help it. He was the black heir, he couldn't be gay. It was forbidden.
"Reggie?" Barty called out as he knocked on the door. "You alright in there?"
There was worry in his voice. Only if he knew. He would despise him if he knew.
"Yeah, I'm- I'm fine," he rasped out. He stopped the water and got out of the shower. He brushed his hands through his hair and tugged at it. He had to tell someone. He had to tell Barty.
He swiftly put some clothes on. He exhaled deeply and unlocked the door. Barty was laying on his bed, trying to knit. Dorcas recently gave each of them a sweater they had knitted. Barty already knew how to crochet, but he had decided he needed to learn how to knit too. They couldn't be better than him, he said.
He was struggling with the bright pink yarn, when Regulus sat next to him.
"Can we talk?"
Barty lifted his gaze and put the yarn down. "Yeah, of course. What's up?"
Regulus bit his lip. "I've been feeling a bit- Lately I've been… I've been thinking. There's this thing and… You know what? Nothing. It's stupid," Regulus shook his head and was about to stand up, when Barty grabbed his wrist. Not in an aggressive impatient way. He did it in a way that told him "hey, it's fine. you can stay". It made him feel safe.
"It's alright, you can tell me," Barty reassured him.
Regulus hesitated for a moment, then he nodded. Tears started welling up in his eyes, as he was trying to form words.
"I think I'm gay."
Regulus closed his eyes when he let those four simple words pass his lips. He was afraid of rejection. He couldn't lose Barty, he couldn't lose his family.
When he didn't get an answer, he cautiously opened his eyes to peek at his friend. Barty had his eyebrows furrowed, he looked confused.
"Is that all?" Barty asked in disbelief.
"Uhh, yeah," Regulus answered timidly. "Are you mad?"
"Are you fucking kidding me? I'm gay too," Barty threw his hands.
"What?" Regulus gasped out.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"I mean," Regulus looked him up and down, "a little, yeah."
Barty sighed. "Listen, if you're not sure, I can help you."
Regulus just stared at him with a puzzled expression.
"I'm gonna kiss you, you idiot!" Barty exclaimed.
"Oh!" Regulus raised his eyebrows. "Uhm, okay. I mean, yeah, sure."
Barty shifted a bit closer to him. He caressed his face with his palms. "Close your eyes," he whispered and Regulus did. Both pairs of eyes fluttered shut and Barty leaned in. Their lips collided in one. Barty moved slowly, with purpose. Regulus gingerly placed his hands on his friend's waist, not pulling, just caressing.
After a moment, they pulled apart.
"So? What do you think?" Barty questioned.
"I didn't think this conversation would end like this." Regulus let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.
"The kiss, I mean. Focus, Reggie!"
"Yeah, it was nice. It was very nice."
Barty rolled his eyes. "You're so dry." He looked around for a moment, before pulling something out of his bag. It was a small box. The smell of tobacco immediately hit him. "Wanna smoke?"
Regulus replied with a quick "sure" and they got to work. Rolling the cigarette was the hardest part, since they'd never done it before.
"I'm pretty sure I'm gay," Regulus confessed at last.
Barty was his first kiss.
His parents continued to torture him for a couple more hours, at least it felt like that to Regulus. During this time, all kinds of memories were playing in his head. It was like watching a movie, a movie that he's seen long ago. He watched his life flash in front of his eyes. He saw all kinds of memories he'd forgotten. He cried and laughed. He must've seemed insane to his parents, but he didn't care.
After it was all over, everything went quiet. His mind stopped running to places, he couldn't hear any voices, couldn't hear his own screams anymore. He was at peace. For a moment, he thought he was dead. He was brought back to his consciousness as they were dragging him away, though.
They threw him in some sort of a dungeon, a prison. He fell to the ground, and as he was trying to get back up on his shaking limbs, he saw someone standing in the dark. He lifted his gaze towards the stranger, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness in the room. He could see his green eyes. They seemed worn out now, though, like he hadn't gotten any sleep in weeks, maybe months. It was the same pair of emerald green eyes he was met with the last time they saw each other. But that was impossible, right? He must've been hallucinating. Barty was dead, he saw him leave.
He locked eyes with him, and in that moment, he was sure it was him. He let out a sob and ran to his side. He caged him in a ribs crushing hug. Held him so tightly, afraid that if he let go, he'd lose him again. Barty's slim arms slowly snaked around him too eventually. Regulus started fully crying by now. He was staining Barty's shirt with his tears, but none of them could care less. They were both crying, so happy to finally see each other after all this time.
Regulus couldn't believe he was holding Barty in his arms again. It all felt like a dream. A dream he hoped he would never wake up from.
After what felt like an eternity, they had both calmed down and pulled apart. "What are you- How are you… Why are you here? How can you remember me? I erased your memories," Barty stuttered over his words.
"Shh, it's alright. One thing at a time." Regulus took his hands in his and brought him to sit down on the cold concrete. "They found out I betrayed them. They tortured me, the Dark Lord got into my mind. He saw everything," Regulus lowered his gaze, trying not to think about that right now. Not with Barty right here in front of him. "But hey, at least all the torture made me remember you," he gave him a lopsided smile.
Barty sighed and returned him the smile. It had been so long since he last saw that smile. It made him feel warm, as if the sun itself was living in his stomach.
"You have no idea how much I've missed you," Barty whispered.
Regulus nodded as he tried to hold back tears. "I know. I've missed you too. I mean, I remembered you just now, but you know- you know what I'm trying to say." Barty nodded and they both laughed. "How are you even alive?" Regulus asked after a moment. "I saw you walk into that cave. I thought you died there."
Barty shook his head with a soft smile playing on his lips. "Nah, I'm like a cockroach. Indestructible," Barty chuckled at his own joke. "I did manage to destroy the locket," he continued, "but they caught me. The inferi must have alarmed the Dark Lord that I was there. They captured me, tortured me and left me here to rot." He went silent, just stared into Regulus' eyes. "God, c'mere. I thought I'd never see you again." Barty wrapped his arms around his neck, nearly climbing into his lap as he was trying to get as close to him as physically possible. Regulus returned the embrace, of course, and locked his arms around the latter's waist.
"So, what's new?" Barty asked, once they were sitting side by side. Their fingers were intertwined, they needed to feel the physical connection. They needed to know this was all real.
"Are you seriously asking me this?" Regulus chuckled.
"I mean, what else am I supposed to ask?"
"Mhm," Regulus hummed in agreement. "We all miss you. I mean, I haven't seen Dorcas in a long time now, but I know they do. I haven't seen much of Pandora either since she moved out… But Evan is devastated. He talks to your weed all the time," he chuckled at that part. Barty smiled sadly. Regulus doesn't even want to imagine what he's been through.
"I've missed you all too," he admitted.
"I know, Barty." Regulus caressed the back of his hand with his thumb. "We need to get out of here."
Barty let out a sigh. "Yeah. Yeah, we do," he agreed.
At that moment, Regulus didn't care about any of the bad things going on around them. He didn't care about the consequences they met under. To him, there was only Barty. He only saw Barty.