Cheveu
“Slow down, you move too fast
You got to make the morning last
Just kicking down the cobblestones
Looking for fun and feeling groovy”
…
Regulus Black was, in fact, the newfound Heartthrob of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
He didn’t know how to adjust to it, really: the pink hearted-letters being passed to him during class, the girls talking to him every chance they had about God knows what, the constant following wherever he went. It was funny to him, really, and it became less and less uncomfortable as time went on.
It had served as a temporary distraction from what had really happened at that Quidditch game. While everyone was just obsessed with his saving of Emmeline Vance, the real question was why exactly that bludger had been trying to knock Regulus off of his broom. Throughout the course of that week, he forgot about it mostly, and instead focused more on making it to his dorm in one piece.
October began, in time. October was Regulus’ favorite month for as long as he could remember. The first month of his fifth year was spent working on his schoolwork, being chased down by girls, and rolling his eyes at his roommates.
Who were growing on him slightly. Very slowly. The first Friday of the October of 1976, Regulus was cooped up in his dorm with them, writing an essay for Transfiguration, and being distracted by the game of Wizard Catch his roommates had begun.
Regulus had stopped trying to get them to quiet down, at that point. It was late. The next morning, he and Tarquin had a game against Gryffindor, their first of that Quidditch season. It was exciting, of course, but Regulus did really want to get a good night's sleep.
He looked up as Ben lounged on the floor with a beer, playing with one of his textbooks with his wand. This was something Ben seemed to do often, he’d float up some random object and play around with it for a while. Regulus didn’t understand it, but he also didn’t mind it.
Clement, Tarquin, and Mason followed in suit – picking up some beers they stored underneath Mason’s bed. They opened the caps with their wands, something else Regulus had taught them, and either laid on their beds or sat next to Ben.
“Want one, Regulus?” Tarquin asked, causing Regulus to pick his head up.
“I shouldn’t.”
“You should,” Clement smiled, “big game tomorrow. Calm your nerves.”
“I’ll get a hangover,” Regulus shrugged, looking back at his essay.
“Not from one beer, you won’t,” Mason was already getting Regulus’ a beer, and making his way towards him, “loosen up, you arse.”
Regulus considered. He looked between the beer and the boys sitting beyond Mason, looking at him expectantly. “Fine,” He huffed, taking the beer and opening it, “fine, fine, fine.”
His roommates clapped, and he rolled his eyes with a small laugh, as he set it down by his bed and began to drink it between breaks with his essay. He had really been aiming to avoid drinking as much as he could this year, but he figured he should have at least one night when he’d allow himself.
Regulus was awfully tired, even after finishing his essay. But that night he stayed up a little later, allowing himself to relax with his drink while he talked to his roommates. He joined them on the floor, even, as they all laughed about some stupid theory Mason had about Slughorn being a pervert. Regulus didn’t doubt it. The man was starting to annoy him.
Eventually, the boys climbed into bed. Regulus was out by a light, fully aware that his roommates were staying up and continuing to talk. But Regulus was tired. And blissfully so.
…
“Wakey wakey,” Regulus heard, “get up, we’ve got to go.”
As soon as Regulus realized he was in bed, and someone was in fact standing above him, he jumped, backing up against the wall as an act of self defense. Or whatever that was. “Get back,” He muttered, groggily rubbing at his eyes and trying to gain focus.
“Why are you hiding?” Tarquin asked, “it’s just me.”
Regulus rolled his eyes, before eventually getting out of his bed and pushing past his roommate. “I don’t like people invading my space,” Regulus said with annoyance, as he went to his trunk and started to take out his Quidditch uniform.
“If anything, you invaded ours,” Tarquin retaliated, already dressed and leaning against his bedpost, “remember?”
Regulus stood in the center of the room and made sure to look right at Tarquin as he rolled his eyes. “Allow me to get ready,” He then went towards the bathroom, before Tarquin’s arm stretched just in time and stopped him. Regulus looked over at him, “What is it?”
“No gel.”
“No,” Regulus struggled to really push past him, “I need gel. Seriously. Piss off.”
Tarquin grinned, quickly moving to guard the entryway, “I’m not letting you.”
“I’m not changing in front of you,” Regulus responded heatedly.
“That’s not what I want,” Tarquin said slyly, “I’m not letting you use gel. It’s horrid.”
Regulus sized him up, before charging himself forward and struggling against Tarquin. He tried to push him into the bathroom, to get inside, but Tarquin didn’t let him, as he pushed him right back and they both fell against the wall. Once realizing their positioning, Regulus pulled away, straightening himself out as Tarquin stayed against the wall and just smiled. “Let me fucking change, you prick.”
“Do you have an issue with changing in front of us?” Tarquin teased, “It seems you do.”
Regulus punched him in the shoulder, causing Tarquin to laugh, as Regulus walked to the sink mirror and stood before it. He weighed his options, staring at his messy and very much knotted hair. He shook his head, “I’m not going out with it like this.”
“Of course not,” Tarquin said from behind him, before coming around him and reaching into a small bin. He took out a comb, handing it to Regulus, “Comb it.”
Regulus raised an eyebrow, before he snatched the comb from Tarquin and sighed. He looked in the mirror as he began to piece apart the knots, brushing through his hair carefully. Although he didn’t react, he noticed that Tarquin was leaning against the bathroom wall and watching him. He felt his eyes on him. Regulus tried to fight it, he tried very hard, but he felt a smile creeping onto his face. He bit down on his tongue, trying to force it away as he continued to comb through his hair.
“Stop watching me,” Regulus attempted.
“Why?” Tarquin replied mistily.
But Regulus just rolled his eyes, still with a smile, and took the comb out of his hair. He sighed, “I hate it.”
Tarquin came behind him and looked at him in the mirror, “Very rebel.” He shrugged, “The girls will like it.”
Regulus stared at his reflection. His hair was large, puffy and curly and frustratingly brunette, with small flecks of blonde still recovering from the passing summertime. Regulus bit his lip again, “But, do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Like it,” Regulus said quietly.
“Does my opinion matter to you?” Tarquin asked, as they looked at each other through the surface.
“No,” Regulus stared into his own eyes, trying to control his reactions, his reflection. He could feel that Tarquin was not looking at himself, but instead looking at Regulus, too.
“Then I won’t tell you what I think,” Tarquin said simply.
“I want you to leave,” Regulus turned around, “I need to change.”
Tarquin smiled again, “Meet me in the common room.”
Regulus nodded as his roommate left, closing the door behind him. He changed, getting into his uniform and feeling like spiders were crawling all over his skin. He had questions, he wanted to know things, he felt a lot, all at once.
But he moved anyway, eventually making his way out of the bathroom and leaving his room quietly. He walked down the stairs, self conscious even though no one was around, and made his way to the common room, seeing Tarquin sitting on the couch and waiting for him.
“Let’s go,” Regulus got his attention, and Tarquin got up, following him out of the common room and all the way to the Quidditch pitch.
…
Regulus felt eyes on him immediately as he and Tarquin joined the gathering of the Slytherin Quidditch team, while they all either polished their brooms or stretched.
They didn’t pass many people on their way out of the castle, since most were already in the stands and waiting for the game to begin. But even his own team was staring at him, watching as he fetched his broom and did his usual preparing before a game.
“Regulus,” Said Molly Greenworth, Slytherin’s Keeper, “your hair.”
“What about it?” Regulus asked nonchalantly, catching Tarquin’s slight laugh at his response.
“It’s different,” Molly stared at him a bit, “why’d you change it?”
Regulus shrugged, and felt her eyes trail as he waxed his broom and looked at his other teammates stretching. Molly dropped the topic and eventually went to talk to Tarquin about some book in their Care of Magical Creatures class.
Eventually, Dane Aubrey, the team captain, brought them together to quickly discuss the game as per usual. Dane was a smart wizard, Regulus secretly thought he belonged in Ravenclaw, just because of how well thought out he was and how he was always able to guide their games through his wit.
But then, he was still an asshole.
“Remember, I’m doing cuts this year,” Dane said properly, “so play well today. This is quite literally the most important game of our season, remember that.” Regulus’ teammates nodded along, so he followed along. “All right. Let’s play.”
They all scattered about, gathering their brooms and lining up outside of the tapestry that hid them away from the bustling field. Regulus hadn’t even realized that he’d be playing against Sirius today.
Since they’d been going at things for a while now, games were… more interesting against Gryffindor. Regulus had always anticipated his brother would ignore him, but not on the field – Sirius played harder against Regulus even though Regulus was a seeker.
He also felt nervous thinking of the bludger from his last Quidditch game. He was worried that maybe it would happen again, and he’d have to face it and get hit, in order to make sure the bludger attacked nobody else on the field. He didn’t want another Emmeline situation. Whatever that had been.
Soon, they were walking onto the field. As soon as they stepped out, the crowd roared, which was something Regulus didn’t expect. He peered around, the cold air slapping him in the face, as he realized that the Gryffindor team was already on the field.
Why are they cheering?
He looked over, Tarquin’s hair blowing wildly in the wind, and saw him laughing hysterically. When Regulus went to ask why, he looked around, and realized.
In every stand, regardless of house, girls were holding large posters with Regulus’ name on it, or even calling his name or holding Slytherin merchandise. He felt his stomach drop, looking around at his team with shock, as they either laughed or appeared bothered.
His teammates started pushing him forward. Soon, they were in line with the Gryffindors, waiting for the whistle to blow and the game to begin.
“Good luck,” Tarquin muttered to Regulus, and Regulus nodded, feeling even more sick now with the eyes of every girl at Hogwarts on him.
As he mounted his broom and stood steadily, he caught sight of Sirius. And saw on his face a look he had never really seen on his brother, or had understood fully.
Sirius looked jealous.
He was scowling at the stands, rolling his eyes and gripping his broom angrily as the crowds cheered for Regulus and the girls held up their signs like they were flags. Regulus almost wanted to laugh at his brother’s expression. He didn’t understand why Sirius would be jealous, this was genuine torture, but he was somewhat delighted nonetheless.
All of a sudden, the whistle blew, and Regulus shot up into the air. The crowd roared, and he stayed low to the ground, looking about for the Snitch and enjoying watching his teammates begin their game.
Tarquin was already fending off the bludger, which, luckily, had not seemed to be attracted to Regulus this time around. Regulus felt a sigh of relief, nearing a smile as he looked at Tarquin and watched him for a little while.
And then, he saw it.
The snitch was near the Gryffindor post, and Regulus checked around for the Gryffindor seeker before slyly making his way over. When he passed the stands, he heard more cheering, which made him laugh. It was a bit thrilling.
He did lose sight of it, though, which was expected – and he made his way up into the air, trying to gain sight of it again.
His team was playing fine. The Gryffindors were a bit incredible, but Regulus thought that was only because of James Potter. He always played like they were at the World Cup, not Hogwarts. He was ruthless always, and yet he always had a sense of good sportsmanship, which Regulus didn’t understand.
That’s what Regulus had observed, anyway.
The Gryffindor Seeker was Marlene McKinnon, one of Sirius’ friends who was freakishly tall (in Regulus’ opinion) and had salty blonde hair that she tied far back from her face during games. She had never really spoken to Regulus before, which he didn’t mind – but today she did seem a little bothered by all the superior seeker signs in the audience.
He’d never admit it, but as he soared through the air, his hair felt miraculous. He could tell by the expressions of most of the girls around him that he did look different. His hair wasn’t long like his brother’s, it would never be, but it was free – and hopefully, probably, attractive.
“Your fan club is a bit embarrassing, don’t you think?” Said a sharp voice behind him. Regulus turned around, seeing Sirius hovering next to him. His brother looked pitiful to him, and while Regulus hated all the attention, he wouldn’t let that show.
“I’m flattered,” Smiled Regulus, “do you have a problem?”
Sirius rolled his eyes before soaring off, and Regulus laughed, looking for Tarquin to see if he had witnessed that interaction. But instead, he made eye contact with James Potter, who was high up in the air and looking down at him with a pissed expression. Regulus didn’t like that look. So he looked away.
Regulus had been distracted when Marlene McKinnon whizzed past him, and he looked at her, before following her regardless of seeing the snitch himself. It took him a moment, but he saw it, close to Marlene’s fist as she dove for it. As she missed, Regulus smiled, and came up beside her, as they raced through the frigid October air for the Snitch.
The crowds cheered loudly as Regulus smirked to himself, and lifted himself off of his broom slightly. His balance always gave him an advantage, which was something he had learned from his dancing lessons as a child. Which was besides the point, and something he’d never tell a soul. He shot forward, and grabbed the snitch, feeling that flighty joy as he heard the announcer.
“Regulus Black has caught the Snitch!”
The crowds excelled. Regulus looked up through his hair, seeing his teammates cheering also and Gryffindor looking like they’d been shot in the leg. Sirius looked immeasurably angry, spitting to James about something Regulus couldn’t hear nor care for.
An advantage to being Sirius Black’s brother was knowing just how to piss him off in the right way. Regulus grinned, and held up the snitch, as he soared right across the stands and felt the wind blow right through his hair. Everyone clapped wildly, the girls at least, and he felt glory, all at once.
He looked back to Tarquin, who was hovering on his broom and clapping along, looking happy and also slightly giddy. Regulus felt something a bit more complex than glory as he looked at Tarquin, then.
Or perhaps something else all together.
…