Prologue, Year One
Regulus
His thumbs slid unevenly over the bumps of my ribs, slowing and bumping and nudging, as the tips of his other eight fingers carved a path down the center of my sternum. His hot, warm breath gusted over the nape of my neck in quick, startled bursts. His pinkies caught in my navel, and I laughed one soft beat. His lips were chapped when they kissed my shoulder clumsily. His…
His…
His…
His…
His…
"Reg?" I jerked my head away from the window to blink up at my brother. He was standing in the doorway of our cabin, allowing other students to pass him by while he waited for me to rise. He was so excited.
His…
I shivered, the hairs on the back of my neck standing abruptly as I felt his breath there. What was that?
"Coming." I gathered my robes – new, velvet-black with green and silver embroidery – and followed him out of the cabin. When we stepped out into the crowd of first-years, he reached back, and I looped my pinkie around his.
"This way, we'll never be separated," he had said.
"Never?" My voice had quivered.
"Never ever."
~
"Gryffindor!" I watched Sirius break into a grin, throw off the Sorting Hat, and dive for the Gryffindor House's table. He was greeted joyously, in celebration. My mouth was dry.
"Regulus Black!" Professor McGonagall called. I liked her. I could tell she was no-nonsense. But I knew she was the Head of Gryffindor.
"Another Black, ey?" I closed my eyes when she set the Sorting Hat upon my head. I knew where I was going. And I would be going there alone. "Ah, I see… Slytherin!" My house regarded me with polite clapping and cheering, nothing unruly like Gryffindor. I saw a familiar jet-black head among the first-years, and Cissy greeted me with her gap-toothed smile.
"Reggie," she whispered happily when I fell next to her. She patted my hand enthusiastically, but I saw the way her eyes darted over to the Gryffindors. He was supposed to be sitting next to me. Sirius. My twin. But the seat was empty, shortly thereafter filled with the oily, long-nosed face of another first year. His black hair wasn't like ours – it was greasy, pin-straight, and cut to his chin. None of the Blacks would ever allow their male children to have hair longer than a finger's length. "Severus, yes?" Cissy peeked around me to stare into the oily one's eyes.
"Yes." he replied, keeping his eyes locked on her's.
"We're Narcissa and Regulus Black. Will you be our friend?"
Severus stared at her for another moment, then me. "Hm. Yes."
Cissy showed the gap between her two front teeth, again. Her mother would have her head if she knew Cissy was showing it off like this.
My mother – my whole family – would have Sirius' head for being put in Gryffindor. What would they do? What would they think? Would they pull him from school? Order the Headmaster to switch his House? Would they be able to force him into Slytherin? With me?
"You may call me Cissy, and you may call him Reggie."
Severus continued to stare at me. I liked the way his eyes reminded me of raven feathers. He nodded.
"Can I be your friend, too? I'm Rosier, Evan Rosier." Another first-year sat, squeezing Severus against me as he crowded onto the end of the bench. I couldn't tell whether he was tired or had a broken nose.
"It would be my pleasure, Evan." I had to lean back, holding onto the bench for support, to avoid breathing in Cissy's hair.
I looked up at the floating candles. Mum loved to make pine-wax candles rotate through our manor during the holidays. I couldn't smell anything special about these. I wonder if Sirius could. He always had the better nose.
~~~
Sirius
When James grabbed the sleeve of my robe to haul me through the crowd, the back of his fluffy black hair looked like Reg's. I reached out, curling my pinkie, but I pulled it away at the last second. He's not Reg, I reminded myself. He's a Gryffindor, like you.
Like… me. I'm a Gryffindor.
"You can borrow some of my robes because Mum always packs me too manyand she says that no one with black hair looks good in green and my Mum is always right." he prattles as we follow the flow of Gryffindor students towards Gryffindor tower. Our tower.
"I don't look good in green?" That won't do.
James looked back at me, his face scrunched in disgust. "Definitely not." I punched his arm.
When we made it to the common room James yanked an elbow around the back of my neck. "Welcome to heaven, Sirius!" he cheered.
"It's your first year, too, James." From the crowd materialized one of the other boys in our year, Remus Lupin. He had a big nose and an ugly scar on his face, but he was sharp, like Reg: nothing slipped by him.
"James wouldn't know what heaven is if it slapped him on the arse." From behind big-nosed Remus sprung squeaky-voiced Peter Pettigrew, and I couldn't help but buckle under the weight of my laughter.
"Good one!" I wheezed.
"To your rooms! We've a busy day tomorrow, and I won't have you out after curfew!" The Head Boy – whatever his bloody name was – shouted at us all from across the common room. I saw Peter shrink, though he was already small, so it wasn't much of a difference.
"C'mon then." James, elbow still locked around my neck, hustled us over to the boys' stairs.
"Peter?" James and I were three steps up, in unison, when Remus' voice stopped us.
Peter was standing at the bottom of the stairs. He shook like Reg in the wintertime. We watched him take the first step, then the second, and then he stood on the third with Remus. He glanced up at us, finally, and pumped his fists into the air.
"I'm in the boys' side!" he crowed.
"Well yeah." James said, like it was obvious.
"Why wouldn't you be?" I asked instead, because I don't brush things off and not worry about them like James (and Reg).
Peter met my eyes. He was silently analyzing me for some sort of reaction.
"Move it, first-years!" We jumped, scooting up the stairs as some older boys hollered at us. Remus corralled us into the first-year dorm, and I stood between Peter and James' beds as James rifled through his trunk.
"I wasn't… born a boy." Peter explained quietly as James tossed random articles of clothing to either side. Peter sat on the end of his bed, and Remus beside him. He fiddled with his fingers, twitching and picking, until Remus put one of his over Peter's to stop him.
"Nonsense," James retorted. "All boys have different parts. Your's are just a little bit more different."
"What are you talking about?" They're making no sense.
Remus looked up at me, then, curious. "Do you know what transgender is, Sirius?"
"Trans…gender?"
James chuckled next to me, and finally ripped out a set of Gryffindor–embroidered robes. "Born a 'girl' but actually a boy inside, or the other way 'round." He shoved the robes into my arms. "But Peter is no less a boy than us, yeah?"
"Uh… yeah. I didn't even know that was a thing."
James shrugged. "I've two cousins like that, both girls. It doesn't change shit."
"Don't let the Head students or Professors hear your language, James, or you'll get us deducted House Points before we've even earned them." Remus chided.
James stuck his tongue out at him, and for a brief moment, he was Reg, sticking his tongue out at me for correcting his spelling.