Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Regulus wakes before the marauders do, eyes crusty and dry from crying. Two breakdowns in one day; that hadn’t happened for a while—not since … Regulus shakes his head, slipping out from beneath Sirius’s arms, creeping out of the Gryffindor’s dorm.
He casts a tempus, sighing at the time. 6:32 in the morning. Breakfast should happen soon, which gives him a limited amount of time to get to the Slytherin dorms and straighten himself up. If he happened to explain what happened to Barty, mentioning that he was with his brother, then Barty would surely go on a rampage.
Barty was a sweet Ravenclaw that Regulus had met on the train. They’d instantly gotten along, both knowing the pain of having a parent who don’t love you but love the idea of a succeeding heir instead. They’d bonded over their love of books and grew to be the best of friends.
After that, Regulus had bonded with Severus. He knew of Severus’s hatred towards his brother and his friends, and rightfully earned; Regulus didn’t particularly care that Severus thought of his brother this way, but it complicated his fantasy. One where he had a bright future and his friends and family liked each other—and by family, he meant Sirius, Orion, Narcissa and Andromeda only.
Regulus ducks into an alcove when he sees a teacher ahead. They walk pass him and he slips out, walking down the steps and towards the dungeons. As soon as he’s in the common room, he sighs deeply, closing his eyes.
“Where the hell have you been?” A hand wraps around his arm gently, hastily tugging him in the direction of the boys dormitory. Regulus sighs again at the face of Severus, following after him without much thought, content for Severus to lead him there.
“In the Gryffindor dorms.” Regulus reveals. Severus’s eyebrows lift, a smirk coming to his face. “Not with Gideon, jerk. With Sirius and his merry crew of delinquents.” Severus’s face blanches and he stares at Regulus hard for a moment. His nostrils flare.
It’s clear he’s trying to hold his anger back. Regulus appreciates it. He doesn’t really want to get into a screaming match with one of his best friends after two emotional breakdowns: he might just have a third. And that’s not healthy.
“Oh?” Severus grits out, practically hissing the words through his teeth.
Regulus nods, exhaustion clear on his face. “He was in a bad way after an argument we had. It was …” Regulus stops, unable to explain the words. Severus seems to see something on his face for his tense expression dims and concern lights up his eyes. He places a hand to Regulus’s forearm, face soft and open.
“Are you okay?” Regulus snorts a laugh, one that comes out more like a sob.
“No, not at all.” He squeezes his eyes shut, desperately hoping he doesn’t start crying again. Sure, they’ve had their fair share of nights where they bawl their eyes about, but Regulus isn’t one to cry for no reason. And he’d rather his brother and Severus didn’t get into another argument or fight.
He’d rip his hair out. And he rather liked his hair just the way it was, thank you very much.
Severus shushes him softly, like a mother would soothe their child, collecting him close. Regulus loves Severus’s hugs—he didn’t look it, but Severus was an affectionate person in the privacy of their dorms. It’s how they’d first met actually. Severus had been crying in one of the alcoves in the dungeons and Regulus had heard. He’d given the boy a hug. Severus had clung to Regulus like he was drowning, and Regulus was his lifeline. The rest had been history.
Barty, Severus and Regulus became best friends, as thick as thieves.
Regulus squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself to be stronger. He’d already cried enough. He didn’t want to cry anymore. And yet, his tear ducts seemed to have a mind of their own, streaming down his face and dripping onto Severus’s ratty pyjamas.
“It’s okay, let it all out.” Severus murmurs. Regulus sucks in a shaky breath and releases it out slowly. It sticks in his lungs and burns like a small flame is being lit inside it.
“It’s not fair.” Regulus croaks out.
“I know, I know.” Severus whispers. Regulus wants to cry even more, wants to sink to the floor and just let it all go. Severus just understood, and he hadn’t found someone like that so willing to give him comfort. To soothe all his fears and unruffle all his ruffled feathers—
—“This is wrong!” Regulus screams. Severus looks up, eyes dull. A sneer tilts at his lips.
“What’s with the turnabout, Reggie?” Severus hisses darkly. Regulus jerks back as though burned. Reggie. Severus knows he hates that nickname, especially considering the one who had come up with it had abandoned him when he needed it the most.
“You know I never wanted to do this in the first place.” Regulus snaps back. Severus scoffs.
“Right, you and your wealthy family couldn’t find a way to get you out.” He’s bitter, envious. Regulus snaps his gaze to Severus’s, eyes burning.
“You know about my family. How heartless they are—”
“At least they’re not muggles—” Severus yells, shoving at his shoulder. Regulus goes tumbling back, falling over. He scrambles back, watching as Severus falters, the emotion in his eyes unreadable. And when had that happened? How long had Severus hidden himself, so that even now, he cannot read him? “Regulus—”
“You’re not the Severus I befriended.” Regulus breathes out, watching Severus’s face harden and flatten into an icy mask. Regulus’s voice crackles with grief. “You’re turning out just like Barty.” Severus flinches back. Barty, oh Barty, which had been a heart-wrenching experience, watching him lose his mind, prancing around the place, spouting his hatred of muggles when all he had wanted to join the Dark Lord’s ranks was to get away from his father.
Joining the Dark Lord had driven him insane.
“You have no right.” Severus murmurs silkily, dangerously. Regulus scrambles back once more when Severus takes a step forward. “You’re weak, Black, just as weak as your brother always was.”
And then Severus is gone, robes bellowing around his body. With the way he walks, all Regulus can see is the Dark Lord stalking towards his pray, flint in his eyes, killing curse hissing on his lips. Regulus stares blankly ahead, wondering how his friendships had torn apart so quickly—
Severus is shaking him gently, calling his name. Regulus blinks back into reality, looking towards Severus’s eyes. They have life in them. They look worried. Regulus relaxes, blowing out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding as he brings his gaze back down to the floor, wiping at his sticky cheeks, hating the feeling.
"I'm fine." Regulus says automatically when Severus opens his mouth to ask that very same question. There's a dull thud pulsing beneath the skin of his throat as though his heart has crawled up his chest to take shelter there. The elastic band around his lungs tightens and he has to force himself to breath in deeply to get some air back into his system.
Severus raises his eyebrows, face showing just how much he believes that statement. He doesn't say anything to refute it which Regulus appreciates.
"I'm going to have a shower." Regulus tells Severus, starting to make his way to the staircase that spirals up to their dorms. He's stopped by a hand on his wrist.
"Are you sure you're okay, Reg?" Severus asks.
Regulus nods despite the hollow pit inside his stomach, forcing a smile on his face. "Yeah, Sev, I'm okay." Severus sighs but nods, not looking too convinced, letting go of Regulus, only to take a step forward and embrace him tight once more. It barely lasts more than twenty seconds and Severus's put space between them even faster but the warmth remains.
“Okay, I’ll see you later.”
Regulus pulls on a smile that doesn’t feel as flaky as before, when he walked into the Slytherin dorms. He’d been intent on just burying his feelings until they went away. “See you.” Regulus echoes, turning and walking up the spiral staircase, heading straight to his dorm. He strips his clothes on the way there, spying Barty lying on the bed, sheets tangled under his chin, most open, drool dripping onto his pillow.
Stifling a smile, Regulus enters the bathroom, closing the door. He pulls off his underwear, turning on the shower and waiting until it was the right temperate before climbing in. After he’d shampooed his hair and conditioned it to his satisfaction, he started lathering soap on his body. As he scrubs himself clean, he thinks.
Back during this time, Regulus had realised that he had a slight attraction to Sirius’s best friend. He wouldn’t describe it as a crush—Potter had done nothing to place himself in Regulus’s good shoes, except from taking Sirius in and protecting him from their parents. Only, that had also been a two way street. Regulus had also detested Potter for taking Sirius away from him. He hated that Sirius had chosen the stupid Gryffindork over his only brother.
Regulus stops, pausing. Except, Regulus wasn’t Sirius’s only brother. In fact, in the future, a couple of years from now, Sirius would denounce him as family completely, labelling Potter as his only brother. Apparently, Regulus had meant nothing to him.
Back then, that had been fine to Regulus, because Sirius had been nothing to him either.
Well, at least in the open.
In the dark, Regulus would clutch at his chest and scream—
—“It’s not fair!” A vase shattered across the wall, littering the floor. Regulus was glad Kreacher had put up a silencing ward and was watching for any sign of his mother. His father was six feet under and would never be there to help him reclaim Sirius back. His only relative that was still on his side and loved Sirius like he did had left the world.
It had been old age, everyone had said. Walburga had cried in the limelight, to soothe the fears of the Ancient House of Black, but Regulus knew the truth …
Walburga had killed Orion.
She had killed him, and Regulus was going to kill her—
Regulus shuts off the shower, spelling himself dry. Unlike Sirius, he didn’t have the patience to towel dry himself the muggle way and would rather stick to doing it the more efficient way, so he could get the uttermost done in a day.
On his bed lay clean clothes from the house elves. Regulus pulls them on, glancing up when the ruffling of sheets reach his ears. Barty’s stirring. The boy blinks himself awake, turning crusty eyes onto Regulus, taking a moment to recognise him.
“Hey, Reg.”
“Hiya, Barty.” Regulus smiles softly. Unlike the Barty in the future, this Barty had a chance to be something different, had a chance to be something greater. Regulus would get Barty away from his father and would wait patiently until the Barty he’d glimpsed in Hogwarts all those years ago had a chance to flourish. The Barty that fought viciously for his friends, who had loyalty so unbreakable not even the crucio curse could get him to crack. The Barty that had the smarts of a Ravenclaw, the ambition of a Slytherin, the determination of a Hufflepuff and the courage of a Gryffindor.
Regulus remembers distantly that Barty had been a hat stall, had taken forever to be sorted. Regulus was rather surprised that it settled on Slytherin since he had pegged him for more of a Ravenclaw.
“You look tired.” Barty comments, yawning.
Regulus bites his lower lip, averting his eyes down to his dress shoes. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.” He says. Barty shifts, shoving the covers off his body. As he stretches, a slither of skin becomes apparent.
“Speaking off, where were you last night? You weren’t there when I went to sleep.” Barty grabs his clothes and undresses quickly, throwing on his clothes without care. He makes an annoyed sound when his tie goes crooked, pout coming to his face.
Regulus sighs, crossing the room. He slaps Barty’s hands away from his tie half-heartedly. Barty grins, unrepentant and mischievous. He’s handsome like this, Regulus thinks, untouched by the future. “I was in the Gryffindor dorms—not with Gideon, you twat.” Regulus grumbles when Barty’s eyebrows waggle.
Merlin, he is just like Sirius and his friends.
They’d get along great.
Regulus shakes the repetitive thought of what would happen if the marauders and his friends actually got along. Back when he was little, he’d imagined Potter wrapping his nice arms around his waist, thought of Sirius’s proud grin when he won the Quidditch cup, exaggerating his pout on Slytherin having won, but ultimately being happy that Regulus had won, thought of being lifted into the air by Barty, Severus and Evan, of snickering with Pettigrew and Potter as they’d watch Sirius and Remus blush and stutter as they both tried to flirt with each other and fail miserably.
But as he got older, that had seemed like a pipe dream. Nothing short of a miracle, really.
Barty’s eyebrows knit together. “Then what were you doing in the—” He cuts himself off, eyes narrowing. “Don’t tell me—you were with your brother? And his idioticfriends?” Barty hisses. Regulus hands go through the motion of making Barty’s tie, straightening it. When he pats it down, stepping away, he meets Barty’s eyes.
“I haven’t been honest with you, Barty.” Regulus says. Barty’s eyebrows arch in surprise at the twist of events.
“Me and Sirius had a fight a couple of days ago. He left the Black house. Walburga wanted to disown him—”
“Wait, what? Black left?” Barty gapes, seemingly speechless. Regulus nods, throat tightening. “And he didn’t take you with him? Why?”
“That’s what I was mad about.” Regulus admits. “I told him I hated him. I didn’t mean it—I mean I did then, but I didn’t—didn’t mean for him to shut down completely after that. The—Potter and Lupin cornered me after I left the library yesterday.”
Barty’s face twists. “Those fuckers—”
“They wanted me to help Sirius.” Barty falls silent. “He wasn’t talking, wasn’t drinking, wasn’t eating. Just stared straight ahead, refused to answer anyone. I helped him come back to the world. It was scary, Barty, it was like he was just ready to give life up. I’ve never seen him that way before.” Regulus voice breaks, hitching. He stares at Barty’s tie and wills himself not to cry anymore.
“You mean a lot to each other.” Is all Barty says.
Regulus doesn’t answer, letting Barty take his arm, grabbing their bags as they exit the dorm. He’s led out of the common room and down the steps. As they walk, Regulus ponders. He wonders what his life would’ve been like if he was in another house. What seems like so long ago, a memory rises, unbidden—
—“You can be great.” The hat whispers in his head. Regulus clutches onto the stool, wanting it to end. He doesn’t like the feeling of someone in his head, not even the mysterious sorting hat.
“I don’t want to be great.”
“You can be good, Mister Black. If you chose Slytherin—”
“I have to be in Slytherin, you don’t understand—”
“—but if you chose Hufflepuff, you could change the world. You could give back what Hogwarts lost centuries ago.”
“And what is that?” Regulus asks, curious despite himself.
“Unity.”—
He’s so stuck in his head that he doesn’t even realise that Severus has joined them, and that Barty and he are having a hushed conversation. Severus seems upset, but Barty is firm and determined. It’s the Hufflepuff in him striking once more. Severus glances at Regulus after Barty makes another argument, softening before he nods, lips moving gently as he looks at Barty.
Barty’s gentles, glancing around before his fingers reach up. His fingertips touch Severus’s left cheekbone, Severus’s eyes fluttering with the touch. Regulus can just barely see Barty’s lips move but the words are undistinguishable.
“I love you.”
Severus eyes flutter open slowly, sparkling. Regulus looks away, feeling like he’s intruding on an important moment. When they break through the doors of the Great Hall, he’s led in a different direction. Regulus blinks and then turns to stare at the duo at his side.
“Severus, Barty, what are—” His question is cut short as they stop at the Gryffindor table, Barty manhandling Regulus into one of the seats next to Lupin. Severus sits besides Regulus, whilst Barty sits on the other side of the table, sliding between Sirius and Potter, unperturbed by the incredulous looks everyone is shooting him, Regulus included.
“What are you—”
“Why are you—”
“Snivillius—”
“You want Reg in your life, Black?” Sirius stills. After a moment, he nods jerkily. “Good. Do yourself a favour, yeah? Try not to be an ass by insulting one of Reg’s best friends in front of his friends and especially don’t insult my boyfriend in front of me or you’ll be hexed into the next century.” Barty fills a plate with food, handing it to Severus. It has all his favourites on it. Then he fills up another, this time with everything that Regulus eats, before handing it to him.
“You have no right—” Someone starts. A fourth year from across the table, who’d been eavesdropping on their conversation. Barty ignores him for a moment, spelling two cups of coffee, reaching into his bag to pull out a potion for headaches, pouring it into the lighter one. He hands it to Regulus.
“Drink. You’re looking pale.” Barty murmurs. He hands the darker coffee to Severus, fingers lingering on the Slytherin’s, gaze dark with something that looks like desire. But then he lets go and the light is dimmed as if it wasn’t there. He shifts in his chair and pins his dark gaze on the fourth year. “I have every right. Because if I’m right and Black cares about Reg, then that means that him and your group of Gryffindork’s—”
“—Gryffindors—”
“—that’s what I said.” Barty rolls his eyes, looking at the fourth year like he’s stupid. “As I was saying, that means that him and his little trio are going to be around for quite a while. Might as well curb the stupidity whilst they’re still trainable.” Regulus snorts, accidently inhaling coffee down the wrong pipe, spluttering. Severus waves his wand, and his airways are clear. Another snort escapes him and then he’s giggling to himself, pressing himself into Severus’s shoulder.
“What did you put in his coffee, Barty?”
“Just a headache potion. He didn’t sleep much, nightmare.” Severus peers into Regulus’s cup, frowning.
Regulus lifts his head, laughter coming to a stop. He narrows his eyes. “I didn’t tell you I had a nightmare.”
“You have them a lot. I figured it was the only reason. You’ve been getting them a lot lately.” Barty clears his throat. A moment of silence descends on them before Barty shoves the plate of breakfast Regulus’s way. “Eat. You’ll need your strength. We have Care of Magickal Creatures first thing in the morning followed by DADA. You can get some sleep in History of Magic after lunch.” Barty piles some food onto his own plate, flicking his wand and conjuring himself a cup of piping hot tea.
“Ugh, British.” Regulus grumbles. Severus rumbles in agreement.
“Uh … you are British, right?” Pettigrew mumbles. Regulus blinks and looks to Sirius in question, who shakes his head.
“I didn’t tell them.”
Regulus rolls his eyes. “Of course, you didn’t.” Here, he turns back to the marauders, who are all eyeing him in question. “The Black’s have French origin. We originally were clustered there but it’s only been in recent years that we’ve migrated to Britain.” Regulus explains.
Lupin glances Severus’s way. “And you Snape? You’re of British origin right?”
“No,” Severus smirks at their surprised looks, “my mother was an Italian pureblood. Her family, the Prince’s were a massive thing—”
“Wait, wait, are you telling me you’re royalty?” Sirius demands, eyeing Severus in disbelief. When he catches his friends looks that practically beg him to expand, he shakes his head. “The Prince’s are Italian royalty, in the Wizarding world and the muggle world. But I don’t understand, everyone in Hogwart’s would’ve heard of you unless … you’re missing heir? The son of EileenPrince?”
The whole entire table is gaping at Severus. Severus shrugs.
“My mother was disowned. That means I was too.”
“No,” Potter immediately says, “I’ve heard of this story. It was on the news and everything. Apparently the Prince’s were looking for Eileen and her son, not to accept Eileen back into the family but because they wanted to take in her son. They’d heard of her living in muggle England but couldn’t track her down. They wanted to find her son because he’d done nothing wrong.”
Sirius takes over when Potter pauses to take a breath and gather his thoughts. “Eileen murdered one of the Prince’s line for trying to advise her against marrying a muggle. Not because he was a muggle because he was that muggle in particular. Apparently he was a violent, mean bastard who screamed that every single person in the Prince line was a freak. He convinced Eileen to turn against her family and give up magic. She committed genocide and that’s illegal. She escaped captivity, killing more guards and as she did, she stole a baby.”
“A baby that was her nephew, not her son.” Lupin finishes, eyes lit up in recognition. “My dad was talking about this a few months ago. They’d sighted Eileen with a young teenager. Dark hair, dark eyes, small and skinny. He looked like he’d been beaten up.”
“Well,” Severus stops, gulping a little. “You certainly described my father to a T.”
Regulus ruffles through his bag, pulling out a piece of parchment, an inkwell and a quill, shoving them in front of Severus. “You have to write to them. It’ll get you out of your situation.”
Severus doesn’t move for a long moment. He simply stares, barely breathing, eyes dull.
Barty reaches out, placing a hand over Severus’s right. Severus comes back to life, reaching for the quill, dipping it into the inkwell Regulus had uncorked, breathing out slowly.
From where he was sat, Regulus could just distinguish the curly loop of Severus’s writing, the tight neatness of it. His eyes wandered the cursive, curious.
‘Lord Prince,
I’m writing to inform you about Eileen Prince.
I have good news for you.
She’s my mother.’