Chapter Five
September 1, 1972
Xander Scamander wasn't like any of his siblings. He didn't particularly enjoy conversing with other people. Maybe it was because he was naturally anxious by the nature and the thought of having to talk to someone entirely too different from him about his passions and interests made him feel like he was at the receiving end of one of his mother's obnoxiously long lectures once again.
Maybe he feared they would make fun of those same things that were so important to the members of his entire family, with a few exceptions in the between, of course. As hard as his father had tried, he could never get Carden to care about the protection and the well-being of the under-appreciated, misjudged fantastic beasts the way his brother did about the dead wizards that laid lifelessly on the mortuary bed of the morgue.
But then again, even when he was very little, Carden had always been far happier with the dead than the living. And in the weird way that disturbed even him, Xander thought he could almost understand his brother's reasoning behind his choice of an occupation. After all, the dead could never disappoint the way the living could, could they?
And someone was in the compartment, gazing at him with those almost dead, blank eyes as if he were the rarest, unique specimen he had ever seen. Xander didn't know the boy very well, if at all, but he thought Carden would have liked him.
The boy shifted somewhat tiredly on his seat, and opened his mouth to speak in a low, growling voice.
"You want a chocolate? I've heard it's quite good if you're feeling overly anxious." The boy said almost too casually, offering him the bar of the sweet chocolate. And Xander had always adored chocolate. It was the one thing he would never even think to refuse. "Well, according my cousin, anyway."
The boy doesn't ask him about his infamous parents the way other people always do when they first meet him, or about the war they had participated a few decades ago.
The boy doesn't ask him about the suitcase that was laying casually by the side of his left leg, doesn't even gaze at it the way people do in the sheer moment of curiosity. He just stared, as if his entire family didn't get starred in the newspaper columns every few months, or so.
And Xander doesn't know how to feel about that.
"I'm Regulus," Xander took the bar of the chocolate and the dark-haired boy smiled at him approvingly, the first genuine smile he had shown him since they'd met.
"I'm Xander."
May 12, 1977
Don't get him wrong.
Xander Scamander adored his best friend like he did nobody in this boarding school of an unfair prejudice, and completely ridiculous propaganda. He thought he may even die for him if such a need would occur. But he was really getting tired of this cycle.
"You hooked up with Evans? Once again?"
Regulus shrugging nonchalantly in the response, flipping the page of that decade-old, seemingly worn-out book he was reading at the moment. "It's the last time,"
"Like the last hundred, or so times?" Xander really loved his best friend, but sometimes, he really wished he was someone who would be able to bang his pretty little head against the door frame without a moment of a guilt that would make him regret his momentary decision a week after.
"You have to make up your mind here, mate. You can't just keep doing this all year long. Don't you think she deserves better than to be one of your many bedmates? She isn't another Crouch, or even Dolohov, mate. She means something to you, even if you don't wish to admit the truth just yet."
Because he had seen it in his eyes when he would get that far-away, saddening look in his eyes whenever the sound of her laughter would fill the Great Hall, or when she would gaze at him sometimes like he was the secret she wasn't willing to share with anyone. Forever hers to have, to hold.
"So, decide if you wish her to be in your life, or let her move on from you completely." Otherwise, they both would just keep prolonging the inevitable in this charade of a relationship, stuck with nowhere else to go.
And they both deserved way better than that.
"Don't you think I know that already, Xan? Don't you think I wish I could tell her --," Regulus gulped painfully under his throat, tears he would never let fall filling his eyes like a river. "But don't you understand why I cannot? My family's fate relies on me solely now that my brother has gone and took off this summer, leaving me behind in that house with them all alone to fend for myself. I don't have the freedom to --," He chocked on the sound, gazing down the floor almost as if in the shame. "I just cannot."
As if he should be ashamed for wishing to think of only himself for once in his entire life. As if he hadn't already done more than enough for that family that would only make him feel miserable about himself, as if he could never be himself with them for the fear they would never accept him otherwise. As if they hadn't broken him down so completely; the boy who had never known how to be a boy, always the mature one.
"What had your family ever done for you? I say leave them, and for once in your fucking life, be selfish. Decide what would make you the happiest, not what would make your family the happiest. You don't owe them anything."
"If only it was that simple, brother." Regulus gave him one last regretful smile before he was heading out the door, his silhouette like a tragedy yet to be written.
A day after, Regulus had broken up with Evans and they were both staring at each other like they were the missing pieces of each other, forever doomed to be separated.
June 31, 1978
If anybody had asked him if he had seen this day coming, then Xander Theseus Scamander would undoubtedly tell them he had definitely not seen this day coming in the slightest. Even a day before the wedding day, Xander wasn't even certain the wedding was even going to happen.
Who even knows with them? Maybe one of them would suddenly decide they weren't ready for the marriage, after all, and cancel the whole thing. But here he was in this huge hall with only few other people to witness the whole event alongside him, feeling quite like be was about to cry any moment right now.
Honestly speaking, though, he was happy all the unnecessary drama was done and over with. He was really getting tired of watching them parade around each other like couple of reluctant enemies all year long while Evans tried to suck face with Potter, all the more adding in to his best friend's sudden mood swings.
"Are you crying?" Sirius Black asked him suddenly, and Xander had a sudden urge to hit him in the face. Though, that was nothing new in the slightest. He always wanted to hit the wanker in the face.
"Why are you even here, Black?" He knew Regulus had invited him and everything, but that didn't mean he had to come. He didn't know about Regulus, but he would have been perfectly happy if the wanker wasn't here. In fact, even happier than he was right now. "Shouldn't you be out there comforting Potter?"
Where was Alice? He really needed to find Alice, lest he risk actually punching the wanker in the face.
"My brother is getting married." He told him with blinking, confused eyes as if that explained everything that went between the two brothers those last few years. "Of course, I have to attend. Even if it's to my best friend's ex-girlfriend and -- man, that's never going to stop sounding weird. I mean, Regulus and Evans?" He turned to him sharply, as if he expected him to agree.
"Who even saw that coming, anyway, right?"
Xander fell on his feet suddenly and walked over to Rhysand Greengrass and his pretty pureblood wife, all too happy to get away from that disaster of a Gryffindor.
"Black is here." Xander explained to the older wizard, and Rhysand nodded his head in an understanding, sighing deeply under his breath.
"Why did he even invite him in the first place? They haven't even spoke a word in two years. It wouldn't have been that weird if he just didn't invite him."
Georgina Greengrass hushed at her husband as if to charade him for being rude, but neither of them gave the blonde witch a nod of an acknowledgment.
Xander opened his mouth to say something when the front doors split open with a thud, and Lilian Evans entered the room with a bright, sunshine-like smile.
By the altar, Regulus' face brightened up immediately at the sight of her. And a few minutes after, they were exchanging romantic vows Xander couldn't really care less about. Call him unromantic, but even when he was a child, Xander had never been the type to care about such things. Much to the chagrin of his older sister, of course.
"Do you, Regulus, take Lilian to be your lawfully wedded wife, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and in disappointment, to love her faithfully, today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you shall live?" Professor Slughorn was saying, looking quite like a proud grandfather would.
"I do."
Professor Slughorn turned to Evans then who was looking quite like she was about to cry any moment right now. "Do you, Lilian, take Regulus to be your lawfully wedded husband, to cherish in friendship and love today, tomorrow and for as long as the two of you live, to trust and honor him, to love him faithfully, through the best and the worst, whatever may come, and if you should ever doubt, to remember your love for each other and the reason why you came together with him this day?"
"Of course!" She then sheepishly added, "I mean, I do."
And then Regulus was lifting her off the ground, closing the distance between them like he thought it would be the last time he would be able to be this close to her in such a way. As if they weren't planning to spend the rest of their lives together, despite the war and everything.
After what felt like a lifetime, they were separated from each other, and Evans was throwing the banquet up in the air, and Alice Fortescue had caught the banquet, smirking at the other witches way too triumphantly.
Xander smiled happily and pulled the chocolate from the pocket of his muggle suit, taking one big bite. He turned to Rhysand, and asked. "Want one?" He asked. "I have another."
September 22, 1996
Xander Scamander entered the Great Hall for what felt like in a very long time, and it wasn't the familiar staff table or the Hufflepuff table he used to sit at when he was a teenager he looked at, but the all too familiar face of his goddaughter he looked at. He approached Hope slowly, ignoring the questioning look his nephew was sending him from across the Hufflepuff table.
"Hope," He whispered, feeling quite like this was all a very nice dream than a reality. "Hope." And then, he was hugging her tightly around her neck, his chest arching in his chest. "You are alive, actually alive. I didn't think -- oh, Merlin. Have you gone to see to your twin brother? Please don't tell me he still doesn't know you are alive?"
He pulled away from her, and Hope was blinking her eyes confusedly at him with those familiar brown eyes, almost as if he had told her her mother was back from the dead.
"Twin brother?" She chocked out the sound slowly, looking uncertain she had heard him right. "I have a twin brother?"
"Yes, Gabriel."
And then she was pushing past him out of the Great Hall, shaking completely as she stalked off.