Chapter 2
"This one?" asked Trudy, the Blacks' maid.
She was currently helping Regulus hang up the paintings he had bought. The two stood in the large sitting room while porters brought the last pieces of luggage.
"No," Regulus said as he looked up. "It had a lot of faces on it."
"This is the one," said the young man when he found the picture.
"Would you like all of them out, Brother?" Sirius wanted to know.
He had sat on the sofa and watched the whole thing relaxed.
"Yes. We need a little color in this room," Regulus decided.
"God, not those finger paintings again," Severus commented, appearing at the door. "They certainly were a waste of money."
"The difference between Severus's taste in art and mine is that I have some," Regulus said without looking up from the paintings. "They're fascinating. Like being inside a dream or something. There's truth but no logic."
"What's the artist's name?" Sirius inquired.
He thought it would be a clever idea to hang up the pictures. His brother had had many pictures on the wall of his room since he was a small child. It made Regulus happy and what Regulus made happy made Sirius happy.
"Something Picasso," the younger Black brother murmured, still fascinated by the paintings.
"Something Picasso", Severus scoffs. "He won't amount to a thing. He won't, trust me."
"Let's put the Degas in the bedroom," Regulus said.
He walked past Severus, who had meanwhile entered the room, completely ignoring the slightly older man.
"At least they were cheap," Severus murmured.
Sirius rolled his eyes and stood up.
"I'm going to stretch my legs a bit," he said.
~~~~
The young man walked the deck relaxed. Eventually he leaned against the railing and stared toward the horizon.
Everything seems so peaceful, Sirius thought and, to be honest, he was enjoying the moment.
The beautiful moment was interrupted when someone ran into him– it was a little girl.
She had long blond hair and a cheeky grin.
"Please excuse me, sir."
"It's okay. That–"
"Marlene," a voice interrupted him.
Sirius looked up. A handsome young officer approached the two. Not only was he good looking, in Sirius' opinion he was the best-looking man in the entire world.
The officer stopped by them and gave the little girl, Marlene, a angry look.
"How many times do I have to tell you? Watch where you're walking."
"'Sorry," the blonde girl mumbled, looking down in embarrassment.
The young officer looked from Marlene to Sirius. Now that the young officer was standing in front of him, Sirius could read the name tag.
'Lupin'
"I'm really, really sorry, sir. Marlene is my niece and… you know… kids."
Sirius was too stunned to speak. It didn't know which was more attractive, Lupin's honey-colored eyes or his little kinda mischievous smirk.
"No. Um– I mean yes, of course I know what kids are like. I'm Sirius."
The older Black brother shook hands with the officer.
"Remus Lupin. Nice to meet you, Mr. Black."
"Oh please, Mr. Black was my father," Sirius tried to joke.
Remus, in turn, just raised an eyebrow.
"Anyway, we should be going then, Marlene. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Black."
Remus grabbed Marlene's hand and walked away with her.
"Oh no, it was my pleasure to meet you," Sirius whispered.
He leaned against the railing and watched Remus walk with his niece towards the ship's bridge.
~~~~
At Cherbourg, a woman came aboard named Margaret Weasley.
But everyone called her Molly.
Her husband had struck gold someplace out west. And she was what Walburga Black called "new money."
By the next afternoon they were steaming west from the coast of Ireland with nothing out ahead of them but ocean.
"Hey, look, look, look!"
Lily and James stood at the bow of the ship and enjoyed the view.
James pointed to the surface of the water where he had just seen a define.
"See it?"
"There's another one! See him?"
"Look at that one! Look at him jump!"
The young man climbed onto the bottom rail of the ship, one foot on the right and the other on the left side of the ship. He let go of the ropes he was holding on to and spread his arms wide.
The wind blew through his hair, and he just felt free.
"I'm the king of the world!"
~~~~
"She is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history," Mr. Ismay, the Managing Director of White Star Line, began to tell.
Regulus sat at a table with his brother, his mother, Severus, Molly, Mr. Ismay and Mr. Andrews, waiting for his meal.
"And our master shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews here designed her from the keel plates up."
"I may have knocked her together, but–" said Mr. Andrews, "–the idea was Mr. lsmay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale and so luxurious in its appointments that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is."
Mr. Andrews tapped the table lightly.
"Willed into solid reality."
"Hear, hear."
The whole conversation bored Regulus. As Mr. Andrews spoke, he motioned for his brother to give him a cigarette and lit one.
"You know I don't like that, Regulus," his mother rebuked him.
Of course, Regulus knew that. Walburga always reminded him and Sirius when they lit a cigarette in her presence.
But funnily enough, both brothers didn't care at all. Smoking was one of the few things that made her life bearable, as sad as it sounded.
"He knows," Severus said. He took the cigarette away from Regulus and extinguished it on the ashtray.
Regulus rolled his eyes, and his brother gave him another cigarette. He lit that cigarette as well and blew the smoke straight into Severus' face.
A waiter approached Severus and asked him what he would like to eat.
"We'll both have the lamb. Rare, with very little mint sauce," Severus ordered. "You like lamb, right Reggie?"
Regulus nodded and put on a fake smile. Severus knew that he didn't really liked lamb and that he wasn't a fan of mint sauce.
He also hated that nickname. Severus was the only one to call him that. Most of the others who knew him called him Regulus. Only Sirius sometimes called him Reg, which was the only exception Regulus made.
"You gonna cut his meat for him too, Sev?" said Molly, who had been watching the whole thing carefully.
Regulus had to bite back a smirk. Severus glared at Molly and she changed the subject.
"Hey, who thought of the name Titanic? Was it you, Bruce?"
"Yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength."
"Do you know of Dr. Freud, Mr. lsmay?" Regulus asked. "His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you."
"What's gotten into you?" Walburga asked her youngest son.
"What's your problem? He's right," Sirius cut in on the conversation.
"Who? Doctor Freud or your brother?" Molly asked.
Sirius grabbed his glass and grinned in reply, "Both," before taking a sip. He had to listen to Dr. Freund's theories since Regulus read them in a book.
Their Mother forbid it at first, but Regulus read the books anyway. And that was a good thing. Sirius younger brother should learn, that it was okay to do what he wanted.
"Excuse me," Regulus said, getting up to catch some air.
"I do apologize–" Walburga commented after Regulus left the table.
"You don't have to," Sirius interrupted his mother.
"He's a pistol, Sev. Hope you can handle him," Molly said.
"Yeah, good luck with that."
"Sirius! Enough!" hissed his mother.
"Freud? Who is he? Is he a passenger?"
~~~~
While the first class ate, Lily and James sat on the deck with other third-class passengers.
The young man drew a man with his little daughter sitting a little way from them. The drawing captured the two perfectly, it looks almost alive and captured the relationship between the two.
Because James was good. Really good.
Lily had already suggested to sell his drawings on more than one occasion, but he refused. It was never about money, it wasn't important to him.
The young man wanted to enjoy what he was doing. And if he got rich with his drawings, he wouldn't be happy anymore.
"The ship is nice, huh?" Lily attempted a conversation with one passenger, Tommy Ryan, a young man with a heavy Irish accent.
"Yeah. It's an Irish ship."
"Really?"
"Yeah, it was built in Ireland. 15,000 lrishmen built this ship. Solid as a rock. Big Irish hands."
Two crew members walked past the small group, along with all the dogs from first class.
"That's typical. First-class dogs come down here to take a shite," Tommy complained.
James looked up from his drawing at Tommy.
"Let us know where we rank in the scheme of things."
"Like we could forget?" Tommy said.
The young man shook hands first with James and then with Lily.
"I'm Tommy Ryan."
"James Potter"
"L."
"L? Only L?"
"Just L," Lily confirmed. "Problem with that?"
"No of course not."
"Do you make any money with your drawings?" Tommy wanted to know from James.
James actually wanted to answer but something caught his attention. From James' point of view, the first-class deck was directly behind Tommy.
And before James could say anything, a person stepped into his line of sight, capturing the young man's complete attention.
The person in question was a young man with black, chin-length hair.
He had his hands on the railing and in the golden light of the setting sun he would easily have been mistaken for an angel.
James would bet his right leg that this young man was the most perfect person he had ever seen in his entire life. And since James traveled a lot and met a lot of people, that meant something.
Tommy noticed James' look and turned around briefly.
"Ah, forget it, boyo. You'd as like have angels fly out of your arse as get next to the likes of him."
But James did not react, his gaze still fixed on the young man. He didn't even respond when Lily waved her hand in front of her best friend's face.
A second man, also with longer black hair, joined the pretty one. The two exchanged a few words and the pretty one relaxed a bit.
The second man nudged the pretty one and the two stepped out of James' view.
Almost immediately, James missed the young man and was dying to see him again.
~~~~
Finally, Regulus thought as he stepped outside onto the deck. He could not stand being in there with all those idiots anymore.
All this fuss and – gosh – whenever Regulus was in the company of these people he just wanted to vomit.
He was getting sick and felt like he had a frog in his throat.
The young man put his hands on the railing and let his gaze wander. On the lower deck, to his left, he saw a group of three people. Regulus guessed three men, but couldn't see it properly, seeing only the back of one person and not seeing the other at all.
"What's the matter with you today, frère?" Sirius inquired.
He stood next to his little brother.
"It's nothing," Regulus murmured.
Sirius nudged him lightly with his elbow.
"Come on, you know you can tell me anything, right?"
Regulus turned his head and looked at his brother. Sirius looked genuinely concerned.
Regulus didn't like that.
He didn't want his brother to worry, not for him.
It wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth it.
"Of course, I know that" he said.
Sirius wasn't sure if he wanted to believe Regulus. Nonetheless, the brothers walked back to rejoin the others.
But Regulus saw his whole life as if he'd already lived it. An endless parade of parties and cotillions yachts and polo matches.
Always the same narrow people, the same mindless, boring chatter. He felt like he was standing at a great price with no one to pull him back.
…No one cared or even noticed.
But of course people cared for him, as he would only later fully realize.