The last place where Regulus Black wants to be at right now is a Gryffindor party.
And yet, here he was.
His pushy and insistent brat of a brother had forced him out of his dorm, into something other than his flannel pajama pants, and to the middle of the Gryffindor common room, after the dramatic match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.
Gryffindor won, obviously, but that’s not to say it wasn’t a close game.
“You get fuckin’ Pride and Intelligence up there and somebody’s bound to end up bloody,” Remus had scoffed on the way to the game.
It was entertaining, sure, but to Regulus, it was nothing more than another two hours wherein he was required to keep up appearances. And that is meant quite literally, appearances, due to the fact that, without a series of self-made charms, Regulus wouldn’t really look like Regulus.
In the time before his first year, while Sirius was away at Hogwarts, Regulus had spent months pouring into ancient charm and transfiguration books from his parents’ archives. They had thought, and continue to think, that Regulus was reading for enrichment, trying to get ahead before his first year. Which, okay, he was to an extent. But mostly he was looking for a solution.
Eventually, he found himself, quite literally, in the realm of Human Transfiguration.
Regulus discovered that there were some parts and pieces of himself that he sort of wished… weren’t. He couldn’t explain it too eloquently at the time, but then again he didn’t really have anyone to explain to. He just had himself.
He memorized a few charms - Crinus Muto, Multicorfors, Evanesco, Abscondita Orator - and their functions. Once he had his own wand, he could see how well they worked to give him his desired appearance.
When Sirius returned from Hogwarts that summer, Regulus looked the same as when he’d left.
Their mother had sent them upstairs after she cut Sirius’ hair, upset with the way it reached just past his ears. Sirius argued at first, but then he just cried.
Regulus followed Sirius into his room that night and watched from the threshold as Sirius rubbed at his eyes. He held a folded piece of parchment in his hands, fidgeting with it before he had the courage to speak.
“Come in if you’re going to. Shut the door,” Sirius mumbled at him.
Regulus took a step in and closed the door as softly as possible. He held out his hand with the parchment in it.
“This should work,” Regulus said, “when you get back to Hogwarts.”
Sirius looked at him, confused, and grabbed the paper.
“S’this?” He asked as he unfolded it.
“A spell I found in Father’s library. Crinus Muto. It should work to, um, regrow your hair,” Regulus answered.
Sirius was probably more confused than he’d ever been, but he was grateful.
“Thanks, Reggie. It’s not fair you get to have long hair, though. What’s the harm, honestly? I think it makes me look more posh!”
Regulus tensed for two reasons. For one, he realized the nickname Reggie, though only used by Sirius, would work just as well with his new name as with his old one. And two, he didn’t really just “get” to have long hair, he was made to. Sirius didn’t know this, of course. He didn’t know any of this.
“I wish my hair was more like yours now, though,” Regulus mumbled without hardly realizing it.
“What?” Sirius asked.
Regulus took a deep breath in. He’d been by himself in this journey of confusion and self discovery for long enough. He wanted to tell Sirius. He really did.
He just didn’t know if he could.
“Um,” Regulus started, voice breaking already. “I just said I wish that my hair-”
“No, I heard you, Regina, but why?”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“What, your name?” Sirius pressed a bit aggressively.
“That’s not-,” Tears were in his eyes now, “that’s not my name. Not anymore.”
Sirius retreated, but only slightly. His expression softened from his argument-esque aggression to something more observant.
“What’s your name then?” He asked, volume lower.
“R-regulus,”
“Regulus?” Sirius repeated.
He nodded. “Yeah. Regulus Arcturus.”
“Well that’s just bloody pretentious enough for you, huh mate?” Sirius remarked.
The phrasing of it all just reeks of James Potter, the best mate that Sirius has been talking about since Christmas, but it makes Regulus smile nonetheless. Regulus gets a weird feeling then, something he can’t really identify immediately. It just felt right, saying his name to someone else. Regulus still gets the same feeling when he introduces himself properly.
Regulus had explained everything to Sirius: what he was feeling, the research he’d been doing, and the conclusion he’d reached.
“I’m not a girl,” He said.
“Okay,” Sirius nodded kindly. “What are you then?”
“A boy.”
“Yeah?” Sirius nudged his shoulder, smiling warmly.
“Yeah.” Regulus smiled back.
Sirius then reached an arm over to grab Regulus by the shoulder and pull him into a tight hug. Regulus hadn’t even realized he was crying.
Sirius helped a lot. He brought Regulus straight to the Headmaster before he could even be sorted to make sure that Regulus was addressed and housed appropriately (and where Dumbledore could shove it, if he said anything other than yes.)
He was sorted into Slytherin, which he thought disappointed Sirius a bit. Regulus assumed it came from a place of fear: fear of not being close enough to protect Regulus if, Merlin forbid, something bad happened.
However, Regulus was roomed with Barty and Evan, who really couldn’t have been better friends. He told them about the spells he wanted to experiment with and they both offered to be test subjects - or reference models, in Evan’s case - if needed. And while he never took them up on this offer, their support and supervision meant more than Regulus could put into words.
Regulus curated a sequence of layering and combining to create what he considered a “passable” body. He flattened his chest and shortened his hair, at first, but added and amended things as he grew older alongside the “normal” boys.
Barty and Evan were very quick to assure Regulus that the dorm room was absolutely a safe space for him, where he could go without his charms and without fear.
Regulus appreciated it, but only rarely went without his magic. He always named dysphoria as the reason - and very often it was - but deep down, Regulus knew his time with this body of his was limited. Being underage, he couldn’t do magic outside of school, which meant no charms. His mother was also an issue, she’d never allow any of this. So, at home, he wasn’t allowed to be himself.
Sirius was the only one there who could see how badly that hurt.
The transfiguration charms were a constant strain to hold up. Regulus got used to it, and he gladly endured a bit of fatigue in exchange for the body that he was supposed to have, but long days took their toll.
Long days like this one, where Sirius had dragged him out of bed, away from his studying, to the quidditch game, and now to a party. A bad party, at that. Gryffindors were embarrassing drunks.
Regulus lasted all of an hour before he grew too exhausted and overwhelmed. He spotted Sirius over by one of the window seats, talking very closely with Remus. They were always doing that these days.
He locked eyes with the door and made his way through a sea of inebriated teenagers, willing himself to think happy thoughts. Regulus was so relieved to be out of the Gryffindor common room that he didn’t notice the MVP Gryffindor, James Potter himself, tailing him.
Regulus mumbled the Slytherin common room password, Frank Herbert. Evan had insisted on the password, going on and on about some book he’d read and that guy was the author. Regulus had read it after a bit of persuasion. He wasn’t a huge consumer of science fiction, but he endured it for Evan’s sake. Mostly he thought the main character was kind of an asshole.
The dorm was empty when he walked in; Barty and Evan were being nuisances to any and all attendees of the Gryffindor party, as per usual. Regulus entered the room, threw off his shirt, and immediately removed all of the charms disguising his body.
There was a knock at the door behind him, which Regulus figured was either Barty, Evan, or the both of them, completely sloshed and ready to annoy him, too.
“Come in, you idiots!” Regulus called at the door. “I’ve half a mind to lock you two directly in the bathroom for the whole night, I mean do you really have to get so bloody fucked up every-”
“It’s not- shit, sorry!” A voice cut him from the door, now slammed shut. The fuck?
Fear shot through Regulus as reality came back to him. He was shirtless, standing in the middle of his dorm room, with no transfiguration spells active. And someone just fucking saw him. Someone he knew.
Fuck.
Regulus cleared his throat. “James?”
“Y-yeah?” The other boy’s voice cracked.
Regulus sighed. This was irreversible, he supposed. Regulus grabbed his gray sleep t-shirt off of his bed and threw it on. For decency or something. He walked over to the door that James was on the other side of. Regulus twisted the handle, willing his heart rate to slow down, and opened it up.
On the other side, James stood with his eyes down sheepishly. He didn’t look up at Regulus.
“James.”
“Regulus.”
“What are you doing here?” Regulus asked calmly.
“I was - I just - You left the party and so I followed you.”
“I left and so you followed me?”
“Yeah.”
“Mate, I am failing to see the correlation here.”
“Sorry.”
Regulus concluded that this was going fucking nowhere. He didn’t even know if James was drunk, or, if so, how much. He was just standing there. In a trance. Staring at his shoes. The guy definitely wasn’t sober.
Regulus let out another sigh and stepped backwards into the room, offering James the doorway.
“Just come in. Merlin,” Regulus mumbled.
James hesitated, but obliged. Regulus turned and walked in the opposite direction, getting some space between them. He ran his fingers through his short hair. He could feel James’ eyes burning holes in the back of his head.
“I know you want to ask, so ask,” He stated bluntly, still turned away.
James fumbled, “I - no, I didn’t know what- I, uh, fuck.”
“Coherent thoughts if you please, James.”
Regulus’ body wasn’t entirely different from when James had seen it before, either at quidditch practice or lounging around the Gryffindor common room.
Except he had tits. More hips. Less height. And this weird bulge right under his belly button. When he was younger, his mother had once said it was important - it protected the uterus or something? Regulus wasn’t sure. He hadn’t stayed in that body long enough to figure it out.
“I’m sorry, first of all,” James said, “for invading your privacy like that. I should’ve made sure you heard me before coming in. You thought I was Evan and I thought it would be fine to just… yeah. But it wasn’t, obviously. So I’m sorry. For that.”
Jesus, this boy could ramble.
“Uh huh,” Regulus responded.
James groaned in frustration, “Stop doing that! I don’t want to say anything… wrong and you - you’re trying to trick me right now to get me to say something that could be bad.”
Okay, fair. He was only trying to get him to ask something that would be easy to either affirm or refute, rather than having to spoon feed him this conversation. It’s just a bit easier if he’s angry though, isn’t it?
Thing is, Regulus couldn’t be angry. Not with James. He was just so damn nice all the time, a proper gentleman even when he didn’t have to be.
“You don’t have to tell me. I’ll leave right now and we can pretend this never happened. Or you can obliviate me. If you prefer,” James stated.
See?
Regulus breathed out, slowly, meditatively, trying to come to terms with the fact that he was going to have to tell James. The exact phrase was to come out to him, as Barty had told him. Barty knew a lot about this sort of thing, being queer, he had put it. He had taught him that the correct term was transgender and that it was actually quite common. There were muggle technologies that could do just about the same as his transfiguration spells, except they took longer to work and they were more permanent. Regulus had learnt what he could from Barty, since that was pretty much his only outside source. It was nice to know he wasn’t alone.
“My mother calls me Regina,” Regulus started, spitting out the name with disgust. “I always hated it, I just didn’t know why until I was ten. Well, even then I didn’t really understand anything about it.”
Regulus refused to look at James, sat over on Sirius’ bunk. He just stood there, in the middle of the room, feeling more vulnerable than ever.
“I felt weird in my body all the time. I thought it was normal,” He continued. “It wasn’t, obviously, because apparently not everyone tells their brother that Regina isn’t their name and that they’re a boy and then cries like a baby. Who knew?” Regulus huffs sarcastically.
“Anyway, he helped me figure stuff out when I got to Hogwarts, dorms and names and making sure my mum never heard a word about it. Barty was able to teach me, though, stuff me and Sirius had never even known about. It’s called, uh, transgender. Being transgender. Apparently, a lot of people feel like I do - like they were born in the wrong body and whatnot. Muggles have whole communities of people like that,” Regulus smiled to himself as he thought about what it might be like to have that, to be surrounded by people who just get it. There’s a special kind of support that comes with having mutual struggles, like how a lot of Slytherins have issues with their families. Regulus could only dream of having love and support from people like him.
James sniffled. Regulus flinched slightly, almost forgetting that he was there.
“Why do you look different right now, if it’s okay to ask?” James nearly whispered. Regulus nodded politely, assuring that it was, indeed, okay to ask. He made his way over to his own bunk, sitting directly across from James.
“I learnt a bunch of spells before I even came out to Sirius. Old transfiguration. I couldn’t practice outside of Hogwarts, but I figured I could try them out and see if I couldn’t make myself look right. Muggles have surgeries and medicines for it, but they’re all pretty permanent.”
“Why not just get that then? The surgery?” James questioned. Regulus looked down at his lap.
“My mother, she doesn’t know…about me. Hair grows back. Tits don’t.”
James laughed, surprised. “Okay, touché.”
Regulus laughs with him for a moment. Then, they fall into a comfortable silence.
“I think you’re hot either way,” James said.
Regulus choked on his own fucking spit. “What?!”
James immediately looked alarmed. “Was that wrong? Should I not have said that? I’m sorry, I sort of just said it. I didn’t really think-”
“James-”
“Like it didn’t even register, it was just- like I just said it. Merlin, I’m so sorry, that was awful of me-”
“Oh my god, James!”
Regulus was laughing. He was bloody laughing.
“What?” James whined, absolutely confused out of his mind.
“It-,” Regulus was laughing so hard he could barely speak. “It’s alright, James, I swear it’s alright.”
“It is?” James asked, shyly.
“Yes, it’s fine, I wasn’t offended or anything.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure, James,” Regulus assured, still giggling. “I am confident enough in my masculinity to accept compliments for this fucking thing.” He gestured towards his body.
“It’s not like a body compliment, it’s a you compliment. Like you as a person. I think you’re hot as a person. I could give less of a fuck what kind of body you have, honestly,” James stated. “Unless you care about what body you have, in which case I care about it a lot. Because I think you’re hot,” He rushed to clarify.
All Regulus could do was laugh.
“Thanks, James,” He said. What James was saying sounded a lot like how Barty described himself one time. Pansexual, he called it.
“I don’t really know what I am, but I talked about it with Marlene one time. She said, and I quote, ‘Sexuality is fluid, James. Kiss whoever the bloody fuck you want.’ That was pretty much enough for me,” James explained.
Regulus hadn’t ever really thought about his own sexuality. He’d been asked out by a few Slytherin girls, two just this year, but he turned them all down out of fear of his own self.
He got confused at times, but he wasn’t an idiot. “Are you insinuating that I am ‘whoever the bloody fuck you want’?” Regulus asked.
“Might be, yeah.”
“Prove it.”
And then James kissed him.
fin.