Chapter 3
Regulus Black excelled at a lot of things; figure skating, painting, writing sad-boy poetry and generally just being an overall nuisance – or so he believed. From a young age, he was able to pick up new hobbies pretty quickly and was glad he didn’t grow into a burnt out gifted child. It peeved Sirius a great deal when they were kids; especially when Regulus was able to beat him in video games he played frequently after just the first try. The older boy would turn to him, face red with humiliation and fury, and grumble you cheat! while Regulus was doubled over with laughter at the ridiculously high score plastered on his screen – he always did have a thing for high scores since the mere age of five.
Regulus Black excelled at a lot of things. Working with other people wasn’t one of them.
Walburga spun a pen between her fingers, looking at Regulus gravely, “ I have contacted Mr. Rosier and he has offered two of his skaters – Evan Rosier and our own Bellatrix, too.”
Regulus swallowed the rising bile at the back of his throat. “He came in third place at the Grand Prix. Evan, I mean.” He added carefully. Though he had never had a conversation with the boy, Regulus could appreciate a good skater and Evan Rosier was ridiculously talented. The figure skater had successfully landed a triple salchow and axel combination during the free skate, making headlines the next day.
Walburga tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowed as she looked at Regulus intensely,” I am aware. The child is fully capable but he is, however, a boy. There will no doubt be plenty – same sex – pairs after the rule change, but I will not have you joining them in their foolishness. I will not risk any pre-deduction of points, is that clear?” Regulus tried to brush off the underlying prejudice laced in her tone, deciding that her refusal was solely because of the risk of bigotry from the judge panel, and not her own.
He blinked harshly to get rid of the glossy coating on his eyes. Put yourself together. “Yes, Maman. What about – uh – Bellatrix?” Regulus croaked, his voice grouchy. To be frank, he wasn’t fond of his cousin. At all. She had always been way too fucking obnoxious for his comfort and Regulus always thought she was borderline psychotic. Bellatrix didn’t quite understand the concept of personal space, either. Her touches, though they were with the intention of being friendly, had always left Regulus fighting the overwhelming urge to flinch.
Walburga hummed, sitting back slightly in her desk chair. “She’s a good option. Though her transitions are on the weak side, her jumps are almost perfect. Yes, she will have to make do.” She nodded once before turning her head so that she was looking at the computer screen.
“I will respond to the ISU email informing them that you will be pairing with Bellatrix,” Walburga stated evenly. Regulus knew his opinions wouldn’t be taken into account the moment he received news that there would be a pair-skate, but that didn’t stop the burning itch in his chest at the idea of working with the woman – or anyone at all, for that matter.
Because that meant communicating, and touching, and trusting and-
He can’t. Fuck, he can’t do this. Perhaps things would be better if his partner were someone he knew well, like Remus. Unfortunately, his friend didn’t know a single thing or two about skating and would probably break every limb in his body the moment he stepped onto the ice. If the obligatory pair-skate had been part of the Olympics three years ago, Regulus knew the exact person he would have trusted enough to participate with. Too bad said person had left, retired and abandoned him three years ago.
He was certain that Sirius never thought of him since that day – because if it was that easy for him to pick everything up and leave, then he must’ve swiftly rid of any and every memory of the younger boy terrorizing his mind. And it hurt because it wasn’t easy for Regulus – to this day, he was homesick for arms that didn’t want to hold him anymore. Yearning for gentle words from a mouth that only wanted to curse at him. Longing for an after with someone who hated their before.
“- will be part of your program, so, while I finish putting them together, I trust that you will begin practising it in your own time.” Regulus snapped his gaze up, shaking his head in an attempt to straighten himself and pull him out of the thoughts that were threatening to annihilate him.
“Sorry, can you repeat that please?” he asked gently, a small tremor to his words.
Walburga grimaced, lips in a thin line, and Regulus had to fight every muscle in his body not to grab onto the door handle behind him and launch himself out of the room. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.
“The quad axel will be part of your long program. I have not finalised your routine, yet, so in the meantime, begin practising the axel.” The words were jumbled in his head, but Regulus frantically put them together to form comprehensible sentences.
And, fuck.
The quad axel.
She wanted him to land the quadruple axel.
With the change in the scoring system, Regulus immediately understood the DE’s intentions. By increasing the value for technical points, they were pushing figure skaters to attempt gruelling flips and jumps. Even if there was a high possibility of traumatic injuries. Even if it led to early retirement.
Regulus exhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a moment as though a headache was plaguing his mind, before tugging his lips into a wobbly smile, “ Of course, Maman. I will begin working on the axel tomorrow.” he responded monotonously. The response seemed good enough because Walburga loosely gestured towards the door – Regulus tried to hide his eagerness as he stood up from the chair and slipped out of the room.
There was a part of him that wanted to run – run and never return, live all the lives he’s always wanted to. But he couldn’t. Sure, maybe Regulus was cynical – but beneath his skin he was a dreamer terrified of wanting things he knew he would never get. So he planted his foot and stayed; even if he felt his bones straining under the weight of all the dreams that would never be anything more than a fantasy.
✰
There seemed to be a mutual agreement amongst all the figure skaters in James’ vicinity that they would show up to the rink the day following the email. Minerva had proposed that James go to the ice rink to observe the other skaters in order to help him decide who to pair with. Though James was glad his coach gave him that freedom, he secretly wished Minerva would make the decision and get it done with because James was way too indecisive for his own good.
The rink was overflowing with people; coaches engaged in serious conversations while their skaters glided on their blades, some of them picking apart one another with their calculating glares. There is tenderness in knowing what desire ties them to each other – even if they did spend their free time fantasising one another’s failure. It’s a kind of flattery to know someone viewed you as big of a threat to want you hospitalised from an excruciating fall.
Not everyone viewed other skaters as a threat, though. To some, It was more like friendly competition – like it was to James.
The moment he stepped into the rink, he saw a figure rushing towards him and then felt a pair of arms embracing him in a hug so intense that James had to catch himself from stumbling backwards.
“It worked! They listened, we- Mary and I can pair-skate together, isn’t that fucking insane?” Lily rambled breathlessly, her eyes crinkled with the corners of her mouth upturned into a satisfied grin.
James laughed softly, pulling away from the embrace. “Knew they were bound to cave in. Besides, who in their right mind wouldn’t listen to you? You’re a storm that only an insane person would ignore.” Lily rolled her eyes, though her lips were pulled into a playful smile.
He reached out to hold Lily firmly by her shoulders, “You did a great thing, Lily. I can’t imagine the amount of skaters rejoicing right now – all because of your campaign.” James asserted, holding her gaze firmly to get his point across.
A gentle rose tinted her cheeks at the praise as she gestured her hand with dismissal,” It’s whatever. So, who’ve you got your eyes on for the pair-skate? I heard the news,” she started, leaning her head back on the glass barrier next to James.
He sighed, “Not sure, really. I never was good at making big decisions. Who do you propose?”
Lily pointed her finger at the left side of the rink where a blonde skater was performing a perfectly executed layback spin, a look of fierce concentration on her face. Her eyes were lined with smudged eyeliner, which heavily juxtaposed the gentle freckles painting her cheeks.
“Marlene Mckinnon. Holds the records for highest short program score in the female singles and for the fastest spin in figure skating history.” She stated.
James hummed consideringly, “I watched her program at Worlds earlier this year and her spins were tremendous. Do you know whether she’s already paired with anyone?”
“Not that I know of. I think she’s in the same position as you at the moment. What? Are you considering it?”
James pushed himself off the wall, brushing non-existent dust off his jeans for show and straightening his shoulders, “Wish me luck?” he added before rushing forward on his blades towards the left side of the rink determinedly.
Lily shook her head with amusement as she watched James approach Marlene – the figure skater seemed to notice him approaching because she abruptly pulled herself out of a Beillman spin, head tilted with confusion.
Marlene scoffed, “Failed to find a partner did you, Potter? Didn’t think of you as a loser.”
“Loser is a bit much, isn’t it? I call it indecisiveness,” James retorted lightly,” Seems you have the same problem too, Mckinnon.”
Marlene narrowed her eyes, scowling, “What gave you that impression?”
“The, ah, whole standing-alone-in-the-rink-by-yourself thing.” James gestured loosely at where she was standing.
“And what if I do have a partner who simply can’t come to the rink right now?”
“Do you?” James asked with genuine curiosity.
Marlene’s mouth was tightened into a thin line, silence passing between them for a moment. “No. No, I don’t.”
James clasped his hand together,” I see two problems and one solution.” There was an emotion on Marlene’s face that James couldn’t quite pinpoint. It was a profound look of yearning, though James didn’t know what for, mixed with resignation and acceptance.
Marlene sighed, “You’re coached by McGonagall, right?”
“ Yeah, she’s incredible. Why?”
“My coach, Sybill, mentions her quite a bit. The two know each other pretty well so I suppose that’s a plus,” she mumbled.
James’ eyes widened, reminiscent of an excited puppy, his hopes soaring, “ Is this you agreeing to work with me, Mckinnon?”
The girl reached one hand out in front of her assertively, “You can call me Marlene.” There was the smallest of smiles on her face as she took in James’ stunned expression. He looked at her for a moment before clumsily reaching his hand out to shake hers in mutual agreement.
“Fantastic! I’ll let Minerva know so she can contact your coach and email the ISU. I look forward to working with you, Marlene.”
“Likewise, James,” Marlene added, the corners of her mouth tugging into a sincere grin. James knew he hit the jack-pot; the figure skater was fucking incredible and James would, without a second thought, bet on her placing within the top three in the female singles at the Olympics.
Her competitors this year, however, were in the same, if not above, league – notably Bellatrix Black and Dorcas Meadows. Bellatrix in particular was a hurricane. There was always an ardent fiery flame dancing in her irises as she glided on the ice – blades drawing patterns that rivalled mandala art on the surface with meticulous precision, every element calculated and staged impeccably. It was almost terrifying; like her eyes were piercing right through the audience’s rib cages and straight into their souls, holding them in an unshakeable trance. As though she was running her finger over the judge’s insides and pouring herself into each and every crevice.
Speaking of the devil, James jumped at the sound of howling laughter behind him. Leaning back slightly on his blades, James turned his body around to look at the group of skaters entering the rink. There were two girls and boys engaging in rapid conversation; though one of the boys looked as though every muscle in his body was battling against the impulse to rip away from them. James’ widened eyes softened at the sight of Regulus, lovely as usual, rolling his eyes so hard James thought he might’ve seen the back of his head, after Bellatrix said something that was no doubt ridiculous because the skater was clutching her stomach from laughter.
“God, I think you’ll have to do the carrying, Bella. I’m afraid the little boy’s body will snap under your weight, “ a blonde skater said in a condescending tone.
Regulus snorted, “ Not got much on you either, Lucius. “ A blonde girl next to him, her hair pulled back loosely into a ponytail with a few strands of hair framing her face, huffed with laughter. Lucius’s cheeks reddened with humiliation, snapping his gaze at Regulus with a scowl etched on his face.
“You ought to control your tongue, Black. Wouldn’t want mummy to know you’re disrespecting your dear cousin, would we?” Lucius smirked at the way Regulus snapped his mouth shut at the mention of his mother, swallowing back the profanities on the tip of his tongue. It’s not that he was scared – well, a little – but the aftermath of the day following the finals was still lingering over his body. He bit back winces as the sprain in his ankle left him wobbling on his blades; he couldn’t risk another gruelling punishment when he was still in the midst of picking himself up and glueing himself together again.
“Shut it, both of you,” Narcissa muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Regulus let his eyes wander around the rink searchingly before stopping at an empty space in the corner. “I’ve got shit to do. I’ll meet you at the rink tomorrow morning, cousine.” He looked at Bellatrix for a moment and then pushed back on his skates to make his way towards the edge of the rink. Walburga had told him to begin practising the quad axel, which Regulus was dreading because that meant falling. Multiple times.
Inhale. Exhale.
This was fine. It was just four and a half fucking rotations. Regulus built up momentum, and then his skates were leaving the ice, launching himself into the air.
He spun.
Once.
Twice.
Two and a half.
Three times.
Three and a half.
Fuck.
Three and three quarters-
The oxygen was knocked out of his lungs as his body made harsh contact with the ice. He failed – his failure was a tattoo to him, rather than a bruise. It was permanently etched onto his skin and Regulus desperately wanted to rip it off, the weight of it pushing against him. The boy laid sprawled on the surface of the rink, legs pulled up as he stared absentmindedly at the ceiling.
A hand entering his vision brought him out of his daze, waiting for Regulus to reach out so he could be helped back onto his feet. James was looking down at him patiently, a soft smile on his face. Regulus has survived so many fires that he can no longer tell whether he’s alive or still burning – he felt both under James’ warm gaze and decided that being burnt alive wasn’t as bad as it seemed.
Ignoring the hand, Regulus pushed on the ice to support himself back up, straightening himself immediately. “What’re you doing here?” he asked accusingly, one eyebrow furrowed.
James tilted his head, “ Just thought you needed some help is all.”
“I didn’t.”
“So you were planning on just laying on the ground, then?” James asked, amused.
Regulus’ jaw tensed, “And if I was? It’s none of your business, “ he spat.
“I know, “ James smiled gently, “Nothing wrong with being a little curious. On the topic of curiosity, who are you pairing with? I was watching you with that group of skaters, and I’m like – ninety percent certain one of them is your partner but wasn’t sure which one. Is it the blonde girl? Narcissa, was it? I saw her program at the Grand Prix. Oh! Or the really psychotic looking-”
“James.” The sound of his name from between Regulus’ lips cut James out of his incoherent ramble, his eyes widening and lips parted in a silent gasp. Oh. He liked Regulus saying his name – alot. James wished he was able to press reverse on a remote to hear it again. Though there was a slight harshness to his tone, James basked in the way it sounded like it belonged on his tongue.
“Yeah? What is it?” he asked frantically, tell me what you want, I’ll do anything,” Oh, is it because I called her psychotic? Look – I’m sure she’s an excellent skater but she honestly frightens me a bit,” James cringed.
The corners of Regulus’ lips twitched as though he were fighting back a smile, “No, it’s- It’s fine. I just don’t have the time to put up with you right now.” He lied. I could listen to you talk for hours and that’s what frightens me.
James looked at him for a moment before collecting himself, “ Right, sorry, “ he scratched the back of his head, gaze averted, “ Good luck with the axel – it’s incredible that you’ve managed to go over three and a half rotations already, “ he added, giving him one last look before turning around and skating towards the other end of the rink.
Regulus stood there in the same spot for a few seconds, stunned. His muscles twitched, telling him to reach out and stop James from leaving – he didn’t understand why. It’s not like he liked him, or anything. No, that can’t be it; Regulus grew to despise James the moment he entered his brother’s life. He snatched the only person that he was willing to lean on away from him and Regulus would forever hate him for it.
James was a storm – despite the damage he caused in his life, despite taking away his medal, his brother, everything; Regulus held his breath and told himself to bear the hurricane. Because when he was around James, it was as though the sun was evaporating all the water filling his lungs and Regulus no longer felt like he was drowning.