Chapter 12
Regulus woke up Saturday morning with his stomach writhing in nerves. Dawn was barely breaking in the sky, the sun cresting over the rolling green hills and filtering gently through the Great Hall’s windows when he slunk down for breakfast. Barty tried to feed him some toast, but he shoved it aside, feeling sick to his stomach. Around him, his teammates were eating in silence, picking at their food and casting nervous glances around the room. Even Rudolphus looked white, whispering in hushed tones with Rookwood and glaring at everyone else as if they were going to make them lose the match. Breakfast ended too quickly, and Regulus thought he could actually feel time slipping by as he walked slowly to the changing rooms. The Gryffindor team was nowhere to be seen, whispers that they had woken up an hour earlier than normal to have a strategy session and an early breakfast found Regulus; he suddenly wished he hadn't drank so much pumpkin juice, feeling like he might throw it up.
Calm. Regulus counseled himself. Statue of ice.
He didn't feel remotely better.
“Ok, team.” Rudolphus said once the team was changed into their emerald robes. “The whole school is out there waiting for us to beat those Gryffindor--” he let out a few expletives that Regulus hadn't heard since his brother told his parents he wanted to be a rock star when he grew up. Some of them let out a nervous chuckle.
“We are Slytherins, and we do not lose. McNair, Yaxley, Mulciber. Remember the passing formations we practiced. If any of the Gryffindors manage to get possession of the Quaffle, go to any means necessary to stop them from scoring. And if they do manage to take a shot--” he rounded on the keeper, who’s usually calm face was pasty and white. “I want you to save the shot, no matter what.”
She nodded stiffly.
“I’ve been watching the Gryffindors play. Mary McDonald is something to look out for, as well as Marlene McKinnon. They are both small, but fast. Don't let them get a clear shot on goal. The other ones are strong, but not too fast and I know that we are better.”
The team let out a few cheers. But Rudolphus wasn't done.
“James Potter, however I’ve heard a lot about.” the captain said begrudgingly. “He’s pretty good, and his shots are not to be taken lightly.”
The keeper paled even more.
Rudolphus glanced at Yaxley, McNair, and Mulciber with a cruel glint in his eye.
“Make sure he doesn't get the ball. And, if something were to happen to him-” his lip curled slightly. “I would not be at all angry at you.”
The Beaters nodded with enthusiasm, the nerves suddenly replaced with a dark glimmer in their eyes. Regulus felt a swooping sensation in his stomach, followed by a chill of fear. If they put a hand on him…
It's not your problem, Reg. He warned himself. James doesn’t care what happens to you, now does he. Don't get involved. Stay out of their way.
He suddenly felt horribly reminiscent of standing, terrified in a corner as Sirius screamed in pain and his mother shouted hexes at him, jets of light shooting from her wand and illuminating the agony on Sirius’s features. Regulus had stood there, paralyzed in fear. Regulus had done nothing.
“Come on, team.” Rudolphus said with a shout. Regulus was shaken from his thoughts, returning to the now cheering crowd waiting outside. He wondered if it was too late to back out.
“Let's get 'em.”
The crowd cheered deafeningly loudly as Regulus walked onto the pitch; he could barely hear the whistle as it was blown once to start the match. But before he could think he was twenty feet in the air, floating while Bludgers flew around him and players shouted at each other. Regulus forced himself to focus. He had to find the snitch. A flash of gold caught his eye, but it was just the light reflecting off of Professor Slughorn’s gaudy buttons in the crowd. A cheer erupted from the side of the pitch clad in bright crimson and gold. Gryffindor had scored.
Regulus shook his head, trying to get back into his head. Rudolphus had flown back and was yelling at the keeper, who shoved him aside with a shout and dove, saving a Quaffle with the tips of her fingers and sending it spiraling behind the goalposts. Rudolphus tumbled sideways, nearly falling off his broom before regaining his balance and zooming towards the Quaffle with whatever dignity he had left.
Forcing back a laugh and scouring the field, Regulus again caught not even a hint of gold. The Gryffindor seeker, a short, rather plump girl with flaming red hair, was hovering to his right, and seemed not to have any luck either. Cheers exploded again, this time from the Slytherin side, as Goyle sent the Quaffle spinning through the keeper's hands, tying the game.
“Come on, Reg.” Regulus muttered to himself.
“No luck?” an arrogant voice said behind him. Regulus turned.
James Potter was sitting lazily on his broom next to him, looking at Regulus like he hadn't a care in the world, as if a game wasn't going on around them.
“It's been five minutes.” Regulus snapped. “I don't see you scoring any goals.”
“I’ve been told to wait around a bit, let you all let your guard down.” James winked at him, and Regulus’s stomach suddenly learned how to somersault. “I'm a bit of a secret weapon.”
Regulus snorted.
“But you can't tell your team, it'll ruin the surprise.” James continued, ignoring Regulus’s derison.
“I won't.” Regulus found himself saying stupidly. James grinned at him.
“So, you made it as a seeker, I see.”
“Uh huh.” Regulus said shortly, avoiding eye contact. James’s ego was intolerable, especially when he was right.
“Wonder who told you to do that.”
“Thanks.” Regulus said sarcastically.
“Any time.” the other boy said breezily, zooming past Regulus and almost knocking him off his broom.
“Hey!” Regulus said indignantly, struggling to regain his seat. James chuckled, flying in slow circles around him.
“You’ve got to loosen up, Black. You can't catch any snitches with that stick of yours up your ass”
“Wouldn't you love to know what's up my ass.” Regulus muttered.
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
“No no no, I'm pretty sure you just made a joke. And a dirty one at that! My, my, you are just full of surprises.”
Regulus breathed deeply, trying to force the blush back from his cheeks.
“Piss off, I’m trying to play Quidditch here. Go off and be the secret weapon or whatever the bloody hell you're supposed to be doing.”
“Fine.” James said dramatically. “I'll just go, so underappreciated yet so tragically handsome. When you’re in the big leagues make sure to tell everyone that I’m the one that started it all.”
Regulus made a conscious effort not to laugh.
“Will do,” said Regulus. James gave a sniff and almost flew off, but at the last second spun around and threw himself at Regulus, shoving his broom back a few feet and just out of the way of a Bludger, that zoomed past where Regulus’s head had been just seconds ago. Regulus stared at him, stunned. James was quite close to him, enough to smell the salty sweat mixed with cedar wood scent that was radiating off his body, and to see the individual specks of green in his eyes. The two boys hovered there for a single heartbeat, before James retreated back, slightly awkwardly, and helped Regulus back upright.
“Sorry about that.” he said, his bravo suddenly gone. “It was going right for your head and I-”
“No-it's ok. Fast reflexes. Thanks, James.” Regulus broke in. The older Gryffindor had saved him again, and Regulus couldn't help but wonder how he kept getting so distracted in James’s presence. This boy must think he's an airhead…
“Oi! James!”
Regulus and James looked down at the same time. Sirius was standing in the stands, tiny but unmistakable in his leather jacket and bright red scarf. He must have used some kind of spell to magnify his voice, because although he was dozens of feet away, Regulus could hear his voice perfectly clearly.
“What are you doing with my brother?!”
James’s face grew visibly red. He drifted backwards from Regulus, looking down at the crowd as if he had just remembered they were there.
“Er-” James stuttered, for once at a loss for words. Regulus was torn between laughing and flying away full speed. For some reason, embarrassment was crawling up his spine and into his cheeks, and the feeling of thousands of eyes pressing in on him made his skin itch.
“I guess he couldn't resist himself.” Regulus heard a familiar voice call, he was stunned for a second before he realized it was him who had said it, a sudden wave of boldness overcoming him. “I am, after all, the superior Black.”
The crowd ooo’d. Sirius looked mildly outraged and bewildered. He opened his mouth to speak, but for once, Regulus’s quick tongued, snarky brother couldn't come up with a single thing to say.
“wha-Reg?” he said finally, looking up at Regulus like he had never seen him before. Regulus gave him a sharp-toothed grin, and the crowd gasped again in delight. Sirius looked as if he was on another planet, lost and out of place.
Regulus suddenly felt very aware how many people were watching their interaction just now, the attention torn completely from the game, where Gryffindor had scored another goal. His boldness shrank away, leaving him with a horrible feeling of being naked and exposed. Beside him, James looked like he was frantically trying to come up with something to say.
“I was just-er-showing Regulus that his broom tail was bent.” James said lamely, sounding oddly guilty. Regulus wondered what the big deal was; sure, James was his brother's best friend, but it wasn't like they couldn't have a conversation. If only he hadn't made that stupid comment…
Needing an escape from the spotlight and Sirius’s curious eyes, Regulus feigned catching a glimpse of the snitch and sped into a dive, leaving James still bemused mid-air. The red-headed Gyrffindor seeker saw him and dove after him, her old looking but fast Cleansweep 750 gaining on his borrowed Comet 260.
Wind whistled in Regulus’s ears, his eyes watering fiercely as the ground drew nearer. Counting under his breath, he timed the dive perfectly and pulled up right before he hit the ground, zooming gracefully around the Slytherin goalpost in a flawless Wronski Feint. The crowd broke into applause, Slytherins and Gryffindors and the other houses alike. A funny, warm sensation spread through Regulus, and he stiffened his back and ducked his head, not letting the crowd see how pleased he was. The red headed keeper didn't notice the feint in time, and was forced into a clumsy coast only inches from the ground, nearly sliding off her broom. She regained her height with a face burning almost as red as her hair.
The game slid by quickly, Slytherin scoring a few more goals and miraculously saving quite a few (Rudolphus’s threats seemed to have worked on the anxious keeper). Regulus saw the snitch once, right by Mulcibers left ankle, but before he could even fly for it, it disappeared with a hum. The only comfort he took is that the Gryffindor seeker was growing more and more frustrated by the minute. He scanned the field again, glints of gold catching his eyes but quickly being disregarded. It had to be here somewhere…a small, glittering object hovering near the Gryffindor goalpost flickered in his vision. Regulus’s breath caught. He glanced over at the other seeker, who was looking intently in the other direction and had not noticed it yet. If he could just get there in time…
But a sudden shout distracted him, followed by several terrified screams. Regulus turned wildly, as saw James Potter falling, limp and lifeless, through the air.