I just can't tell you why
Despite the misconceptions of what the Slytherin common room looked like, it wasn't a cold, dry dungeon with black stone walls and snake eyes embedded into its foundations. The room was quaint and simple, draped with lush green curtains and velvet sofas. There was a grand fire place, its fire casting golden fibres around the room. It was black leather armchairs and long painted windows that looked out onto nothing but darkness. One thing that most people were right about though, was the quietness. It was known to be loud and crazy in Gryffindor, stuffed with seats and windows that looked out on the grounds, it was said to be peaceful and golden in Hufflepuff with scented candles and ivy vines growing along the pale walls, it was rumoured to be spacious in Ravenclaw, less cosy and busy but more simplistic with wooden tables and more armchairs, bookshelves lining the walls. Slytherin was quiet, it was people minding their own business, and different groups separated from each other.
Regulus favourite place in the common room was this one green seat by the corner, somewhere he was able to hide away with a book and not worry about being disturbed. The only thing was that the seat was positioned to be right next to the fire, where Severus and his friends sat, Mulciber, Rosier, Avery. Despite being a Black, Regulus had no patience or time for the boys they were cruel for the sake of it and he didn't always agree with what they did or said.
"Ah Black there you are" he looks up to see Wilkes making his way over to him, and irritably closes his book. Wilkes was all long limbs and blonde hair that framed his face with curls, he was a 7th year and also the Slytherin quidditch team captain.
"everything alright?" the thing with Slytherins, was that they were neither good nor bad, there were some exceptions like mulciber who could be categorised as evil, however most in Slytherin like Wilkes were simply alright and kept to themselves.
"I'm hosting quidditch try outs tomorrow and you bloody well will be there alright?" Regulus was one of the youngest on the team, unlike other houses Slytherins rarely chose the younger years however it was apparent that Regulus was one of the best on the team, and as the seeker he was vital to the game and winning. Regulus smirks.
"aye, aye captain. but how come so early?" Wilkes whole face turns sour, eyes narrowing slightly
"found out Potter has already started, has had his team for a whole bloody week now" the boys by the fire turn, clearly having heard the conversations. Avery laughs, a searing sound.
"that's surprising, thought Potter couldn't play without his dear dad cheering him on" that earns snickers from all around, it was made public news over the summer that Fleamont Potter, a famous potioneer, and later Dumbledore activist had died from dragon pox. Regulus hadn't thought much of it at the time, if only a slight vindictive pleasure that he wasn't so perfect anymore, he hadn't expected to mourn the loss of his brightness. James Potter was someone that shone, it didn't matter if you loved him or hated him, everyone felt the blinding heat of him, he was the sun and they were all helpless to orbit around him. he can't help but think of him from the night they had seen each other, the dimple, the way he had chucked his head back and laughed, the glint in his eye as he joked. he was something else, and it was at times when he looked at him that he could understand why Sirius left, how he was mesmerised by him.
for someone who had lived in a life so cold and chilling, the blazing warmth would have allured anyone, the temptation to get so close you burn yourself on the scorching heat.
for someone held under glacial waters, the idea of being encircled in tanning calfaction would have made anyone leave, leave, leave
"god its gonna be an easy win this year"
"bloody ecstatic that the traitor is dead, bout time"
"the fact that Potter struts around as a pureblood fucking sickens me"
"can't bloody wait to destroy their bloodline"
"Severus your quiet, usually you are the first to hate on him" Rosier drawls
Avery snorts, green eyes glancing at snape with disinterest
"your obsession with Potter is borderline disturbing" again that gets snickers and Snape looks as if he has swallowed a Lemon.
"nah" Mulciber then joins in, his lip curling dangerously, "we all know he has a hard on for the mudblood" Severus tries to act unaffected, but Regulus sees his knuckles fist and turn white. so does Mulciber by the way he smirks. "god, what I would do to her if you weren't my mate" as if that deserves a thanks, as if Severus should be thankful. the implications are obvious though, they all know what he did to Mary McDonald, half the boys here helped him, had a go themselves. the idea makes him feel physically ill. he doesn't want to be here, he wants to leave, leave, leave. Severus' eyes snap to his and he immediately thinks of boxes and boxes and boxes.
"Shut the fuck up Mulciber" they all turn to see as Daphne and Barty make their way towards them, having come back from divination late. Daphne is looking at Mulciber with contempt and disgust, her eyes blazing as she doesn't hesitate to to tell him to fuck off.
"aw come on Greengrass, just having a bit of fun" but his eyes have narrowed, and there is nothing about him that says fun. Avery, always one to step up for his friend raises his eyebrows with a challenge.
"didn't take you for a mudblood sympathiser" she turns sharply toward him.
"I'm not, but I'm not gonna sit there and let you talk shit about girls. any girl." the boys around all roll their eyes and yet she stands boldly still, unflinching.
"fucking drop it would you?" Rosier adds, clearly bored of the conversation. Mulciber is still silently watching her. unmoving.
"no I won't. You fucking disgust me, all of you" she hisses. "then again I'm not surprised if that's the only way your getting any" they laugh, but this time at Mulciber's expense. Regulus stays hidden slightly out of the way, clutching his book tightly and wishing he wasn't there. Barty notices him, and slowly comes to his side.
"Damn Daphne didn't know you had it in you" and then they are all breaking off, tension surpassing except for Daphne and Mulciber who stare at each other, she raises an eyebrow and he breaks the contact. Feeling victorious she turns her back as if to go, when he says slowly, menacingly,
"It's sweet sticking up for them, but I would be careful. watch your back"
Soon conversation begins to flow again, and yet Regulus still can't breathe, and that's when Mulciber turns to him, as if he had forgotten he was there (what Regulus had been praying for) "alright there Black, look unnerved" a mask, a mask, a mask. boxes, boxes, boxes.
it's scary how easy it is to become impassive, to feel as though you come out of your body, to become what they want, how easy it is to feel nothing at all. except it isn't, its what he was taught, its all he knows, it's as natural as swallowing. what's hard is opening up again, how exhausting it is, how draining it is.
"bored is all, I'm not one for petty squabbles" and Mulciber laughs, he fucking laughs, and then he is patting his knee and giving him an approving eye. And Severus is still staring, staring, staring.
Barty catches his tell, shaking hands, losing focus and drags him away from the group, they pass by Wilkes and he tries for a smile which he is sure is more of a grimace and then they are in the dormitory, and he is shaking, shaking, shaking.
"come on, hey its ok"
"it's just Mulciber"
'just his usual shit"
and slowly he feels himself begin to slow down. "I'm alright, I'm alright" and they sit on his bed, and breathe.
"It's bloody cold" James and Sirius are smoking on the balcony. sitting, a jumble of long legs and cold arms.
"Should have brought a jumper then shouldn't have you?" James replies, although admittedly even wearing a red jumper, his hands shake from the cold as he pulls the cigarette up to his lips. He inhales, feeling it build up in his chest and lets it out, a whirl of smoke that makes him think of his father. he smiles bitterly, "you'd think I'd stop smoking since my dad literally died from smoke wouldn't you?" he asks idly
"nah, well I wouldn't, would smoke more probably" he looks at Sirius, and hums watching his friend look out at the darkening sky.
"It's just funny to me, that I'm now shit scared of fire but smoking? smoking I can do"
"Thats addiction for you"
"shove off I could stop if I wanted"
"hm" Sirius barks a laugh as James shoves him, only to immediately pull him back to his side, missing the warmth.
"what you thinking about?" he asks Sirius, aware of his downturned mood.
"I'm looking up at the stars" When it comes to Sirius, he has learned it is best to not push him, unlike James who speaks quickly, who pushes his words out in a jumble with the need to get rid of them , to get them into the air and out of his lungs where they brew, Sirius takes his time, he thinks over every word. James guesses that's what happens growing up how he did, always aware of every word, the affect it will have. Sirius Black was a contradiction, so impulsive, so unthinking and yet so careful at the same time. "I'm looking up at the stars and I'm thinking about my brother, and how I should feel relief that I'm free but all I feel is this crushing guilt, because despite everything I should have stayed if that meant he wouldn't be alone"
"you would have died" It's quiet, something he usually isn't but he knows he has to be careful. Sirius takes a deep smoke and exhales.
"I keep- I keep thinking about him, but then I get annoyed because why didn't he come with me? why did he stay but then I know why he stayed because deep down, James despite everything deep down I actually feel like I've lost something, I actually fucking miss them. " he laughs humourlessly. "Isn't that fucked?" he doesn't know how to reply, so he places his head on Sirius' shoulder and holds his hand.
"we can be fucked together, me you, moony and Pete, we can be fucked together" he looks at Sirius then, "you are not alone, alright Pads, whatever you are feeling I'll feel it too" that makes him smile. "and it isn't fucked, their your family Sirius, and you're allowed to miss them, it's bloody human alright?"
"It's not just that though"
"Hm?"
"Prongs, I'm never going to escape, I can run but I will always be a Black because all we leave is destruction and hurt behind us, I mean I come into your home and then- and then your dad is gone and I-"
"No, don't you dare finish that sentence, whatever other guilt you are feeling I will not let you carry dad's too. he's been ill for years Pads alright? and yeah you have made some stupid mistakes in the past but you are not a bad person, no one is ever good or bad we all have a bit of both I reckon, but you know what matter's, choosing which one we act on. and time and time again you choose to be good."
"I love you so much you know that? we don't deserve you Prongs none of us do."
"Oi shut it, the first bit is the only valid thing you said. I love you too you dog"
"hey!" and then they are fighting, and laughing and he's just to relieved that Sirius is still sparkling, that's all that matters. "do you wanna talk, about how you are not alright?" and he could, he could mention how lost he feels, how bloody alone and stupid he feels. how he can never breathe anymore, but Sirius is smiling and he doesn't want to lose that, he can't lose that.
"nah, another time" Sirius gives him a concerned look. "Lets just smoke yeah?" so they do, they smoke in silence, Sirius looking up at the stars, and James looking at his friend, willing, praying, hoping with a new found urgency that he never looses this too. He's fallen off a cliff and a parachute is holding him up, but if he ever loses Sirius, he can already feel the fabric tearing, breaking, ripping and he would fall, fall, fall
They go in after, Sirius curling up beside Remus who reads and he's about to go to his bed when Remus makes him and Pete join too. and they all lie there, mismatched arms, elbows digging into each other, none of them big enough for the bed, but they all lie there in the silence, letting the comforting sounds of each others breaths be enough. He doesn't know why, because it's been a couple of weeks since he last went out to the pitch and found Regulus Black flying, and yet it is today that he slips on his shoes and silently leaves the room once the others are all snoring beside each other, he looks back briefly and smiles fondly, then he's gone.
Once he has calmed down, Barty goes back down after Regulus assures him over and over again that he is fine. He lies on his bed and takes deep breathes, trying to understand what about that made him feel so scared. He's never liked Mulciber but he has never felt so revolted by him either, the feeling so extreme that he felt he would throw up, the way they were talking about Evans and McDonald and the confrontation. He remembers the feeling of being out of his depth of thinking stop, stop, stop. He didn't want to be seen, he wants to cover an invisible layer over himself, he wants to tear his feet off it means being silent, he wants to sew his mouth shut if that would mean being unnoticed. he doesn't like being seen, seen, seen.
Sirius had always been the one who was seen, he was always the loud, attention-grabbing one, he was the one who could fill any room with laughter, could be heard from miles. He was the brightest star in the sky, he always the gleaming, effulgent, coruscating one. Thats what Regulus liked, what he needed, he needed to be left in a corner, he needed to be missed and forgotten.
he needed to survive.
By the time he has snuck past the others and made it to the pitch, darkness has fallen. It's too late by the time he realises he isn't alone, too late to slink back away or hide in the shadows.
"Didn't take you to be a stalker Black" It's odd, having your own words thrown back at you, so why does he feel a spark of warmth for it being remembered. the idea that something he so insignificantly said has been stored and kept in James Potter's mind makes him feel, feel, feel. and its stupid, so he shuts it down, or tries because James Potter is grinning cheekily, and this time he is the one in the air, with wild messy hair being pulled this way and that from the wind. the dimple is there, smaller than last time but it's there hidden. Regulus feels breathless, he feels as though he is powerless, in the hands of Potter as he looks up, as if he is staring up at the bright, golden sun. golden, golden, golden. so radiant it hurts.
"you do realise it's more stalkerish to remember what I said like 2 weeks ago right?" he shapes his face to look bored, disengaged even though he is dangerously curious about what Potter will say next, the excitement of someone being able to match his wit making his chest pound.
"ah, you've got me, I've been stalking you ever since you first flew on a broom. all part of my master plan you see, to sabotage your team" he is so obviously joking, yet he can't stop the flush that paints his face, he thanks every star in the sky that it is dark and potter won't be able to tell.
"right, of course." his brain has stopped working, and he can't think of what else to say because Potter is watching him eagerly, expecting, anticipating. and no one, no one has ever looked at him like that, as if his next words could be vital in saving the world, as if his word will alter the way we breathe.
"wow, no snarky comment? coloured me surprised." but then he smirks, "you could even say, that you've knocked me off my broom" it's not even funny, Regulus knows this but Potter is grinning like an idiot as if he has said the worlds funniest joke.
"you're the kind of person that tells dad jokes for fun aren't you?" he replies.
"they are the best jokes, you honestly can't get any better than that." regulus leans on his broom, crossing his feet
"wow, colour me disappointed." Potter snorts, and rolls his eyes with no real irritation. "of all the literature in the world, of all the words and phrases and jokes in the world and you choose to go for the most boring, known and corny ones?" he shakes his head in mock disappointment.
"Terribly sorry but you lost me the moment you started spewing off about words and literature and you know academic stuff"
"academic stuff?" Potter shrugs
"thought you were supposed to be smart." that gets a gasp out of him.
"I'll have you know, top in my class"
"yeah real modest too"
"I am modest, I also happen to know how gracing my presence is" Regulus snorts
"you should probably leave before I actually knock you off your broom"
"is that a threat?"
"nah." Potter scoffs, and Regulus can't stop his smirk from spreading, "It's more of a warning" Potter lifts his eyebrows, but gets off his broom, raising his hands in mock surrender.
"jeez I'm sorry your royal highness, this pitch is yours, and now I must abide you adieu." before he promptly bows dramatically. Regulus hops onto his broom with practiced swiftness that has Potter's eyes widening in shock.
"blimey you really know how to handle your broom," to which he immediately squeezes his eyes shut with a wince as Regulus bursts out in laughter. "I just- oh shut it you know what I meant. stop being so dirty minded." he chuckles, so many retorts on the tip of his tongue when he looks up though, the thoughts leave for Potter is just staring at him, with is that awe? admiration? he clears his throat, and Potter startles, shaken out of his reverie. "right, I'm off have fun" and then he is leaving, and Regulus has no control to stop himself watch him go, watch until he is but a speck and then nothing.
James walks back, his heart in his throat. what was that? his brain short wires, replaying Regulus laughing over and over and over again, the way his voice rasped after, the way his smile transformed his face, the way his eyes shone, those eyes-His eyes were pure silver, they were the last ashes on a fire, tossed up on a breeze, they were the grey of the ocean before dawn's first rays strike the water, they were glistening like the stars melted in platinum.
He goes to bed, the image playing like a broken record, again and again, until the picture is burned into his head, his memory, his being.