Tempête
“All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go
I’m standing here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye
But the dawn’s breakin’, it’s early morn
Taxi’s waitin’, he’s blowin’ his horn
Already I’m so lonesome, I could cry”
…
Regulus didn’t hear much noise as he fell besides the wind flying past him. Soon, the wind had flipped over, and he was flying face first towards the ground.
In no time he was through the clouds and able to see the field down below him. It was suddenly terrifying, and he felt aggravatingly sick, as he spun around again and scrambled to gain some control of his body. He suddenly didn’t know what he was doing, or why he had let go of his broom, or where it had even gone.
He first noticed James Potter. Well, he was able to see all of the Quidditch team, but he saw James, flying up in his direction. That then made him notice his brother, who was doing the same. Much to his grievance, and the quick passing of time, he saw Tarquin shoot up as well, and Regulus felt even more sick.
A particularly hard gust of wind smacked him upside his head as he started to fall into a fit of spinning through the air, and got tangled in his robes once more. He tried desperately to pull them away from his face, and suddenly felt very embarrassed.
What was I thinking?
It hit him all at once really that there was no way he’d be able to… well, there was no way he’d achieve the fate he had been hoping for during a quidditch game. Perhaps the release of his broom was genuinely the stupidest thing he could have done, and now they’d all know how he felt about his life, and that he… well.
“Regulus,” He heard a rushed voice, and although he couldn’t see he knew it was Sirius’, “hold still—“
Regulus felt something grab his arm, but quickly let go, and sent Regulus falling a bit faster. He heard Tarquin’s fresh voice cut in, “Don’t grab him, just—“
“Who are you, anyway?!” Regulus heard as he flew out of ear-shot, and was once again lost in a green cloud of fabric. He actually began to grow a bit afraid of what exactly was going to happen to him, now that he guessed his narcissistic brother was engaging in an argument with Tarquin. Both of them were too caught up with themselves to even get to the task at hand. Well, Regulus felt guilty for thinking that. They were trying to save him, after all.
Regulus began to hear the screams now, loud and roaring of fear from the audience, and the announcer was saying something that Regulus couldn’t process. Regulus suddenly even got self-conscious just thinking about the people who could be seeing him flail around like an absolute imbecile. So bloody—
And it stopped.
He felt the wind knock out of him, and he froze mid-air, his robes falling at his side. He took a deep breath, finally able to come to his senses, as he picked up his robe and threw it out of his face. At once, he looked down and saw how far up he was still from the ground, and felt a rush of nausea.
He turned around, and looked up, seeing James, Sirius, and Tarquin hovering above him. They looked just as surprised as he was, and while Sirius and Tarquin were staring down at him, James was looking off to the den.
Regulus followed his vision, and saw Dumbledore standing in the storm, his wand raised. He couldn’t see his face, or his expression, but he put it together that the headmaster must have been levitating him.
He stared in shock, watching as Dumbledore began to levitate him slowly towards the ground. It was a wonderful change of pace, really, and he took deep breaths as the audience seemed to still, and his embarrassment frankly returned.
Awkwardly, the three above him managed to slowly follow down beside him, almost spotting him and untrusting their own headmaster. Regulus grew used to the feeling, even though it was very strange, until he saw it again.
The quaffle came shooting down from the sky, and his eyes widened, as he stared up at it with horror. Sirius and Tarquin ripped around as it came closer in a shooting speed, and Regulus tried to get the attention of the professors even though he was sure they could see it as well. It came faster, and faster, until.
Well.
James caught it.
With really no effort at all. He put his hand up, and caught it right in the center of his hand, and he didn't even lose balance on his broom. Which was nearly impossible, judging from the speed at which the quaffle had been coming towards Regulus.
“Jesus,” Sirius said, “nice one, Prongs.”
James grinned, and tucked it into his arm. Regulus stared at said arm, watching the quaffle fight James with all of its life as it tried to get towards Regulus. But James didn’t let it, and soon they were on the ground, and he was still holding it.
Once Regulus stood on solid ground again, he felt inexplicably… relieved. Tarquin dropped his broom, and quickly walked to Regulus, asking, “Are you all right?”
Regulus looked around, before answering, “Yes, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” Tarquin asked, “You don’t—“
But Regulus was looking somewhere else, and Tarquin seemed to sense that. He may have rolled his eyes, or sighed, but he walked away. Regulus couldn’t tell.
He watched, though, as Sirius walked towards him, his gorgeous hair somewhat of a mess but somehow still intact. He cleared his throat, before asking, “What the fuck was that?”
“I don’t know,” Regulus answered. He knew this was coming. He prepared himself for whatever Sirius would say. It was only the beginning to a long lining up of people shaming him for that dumb choice.
Sirius took a deep breath, and his eyes scattered along the stands. A motion that Regulus immediately recognized in himself. “Well,” Sirius cleared his throat once again, “I’m glad you’re alright.”
Regulus blinked, “Oh,” He nodded, “cheers.”
Sirius rolled his eyes, “Shut up.”
Regulus laughed nearly, and rolled his eyes too, and the two stood there in each other’s uncomfortable but familiar presence. The moment was broken when James' voice came along, “Padfoot,” Regulus heard his footsteps, “here.” Sirius turned away from his brother and joined his friend, who caught Regulus’ glance. Then the two walked across the field and to their teammates. Regulus walked away as well, and walked towards Tarquin.
Tarquin immediately looked a bit startled by Regulus’ walk to him, but nonetheless tried to get himself together, and said… nothing. He allowed Regulus to first. “Thanks for being up there,” Regulus nodded, feeling a sudden urge of courage.
Tarquin nodded, “It was nothing.”
Regulus grinned, and he didn’t know why he was grinning, but it made him feel like Sirius. And Tarquin had a bit of a gleam in his eye, and he grinned back, before Regulus was once again ripped from the moment by another voice.
“Regulus,” Regulus turned around, and became aware of Dumbledore carefully walking towards him, “do you have a moment?” Regulus found this awfully funny, just because of the irony of it.
“Yes, Headmaster,” Regulus nodded.
Dumbledore glanced between the two boys, “Mr. Clarke is welcome to accompany us, if he wishes.”
Tarquin went to say no, but Regulus quickly cut him off, saying, “I’m sure he would.” He didn’t look at Tarquin’s reaction, but he was sure it was swell enough, and Dumbledore nodded as he began to walk off the field with the two of them.
“Do you think the match is postponed?” Tarquin muttered to Regulus.
“I don’t know,” Regulus shook his head, “I don’t know.”
He didn’t know why he felt so joyful all of a sudden. But he did.
Tarquin shook his head, “I wanted to crush that quaffle with my bare fists.”
Regulus didn’t understand that comment, but as they walked behind Dumbledore, he felt comfortable to say, “Do you think anyone is ashamed of me?”
Tarquin shook his head again, “Why would anyone be?”
“I don’t know,” Regulus knew, but wondered why Tarquin didn’t.
Tarquin cleared his throat, “No, no. Anyone who blames you is full of bullocks. It’s not your fault a quaffle knocked you off of your bloody broom.”
Regulus glanced over at him, “That’s what you saw?”
“Nobody saw it, Regulus,” Tarquin glanced back at him, “but, I mean, what else could it have been?”
“No, you’re right,” Regulus looked away, “you’re right.”
They walked in silence behind their headmaster, as he ultimately led them through the castle, and up to his chambers.
…
“Tea, boys?” Dumbledore asked, as he maneuvered around his office.
“No, thank you,” Tarquin answered.
“What if I would like some?” Regulus asked Tarquin, who was taken a bit aback by his sudden playfulness.
“Then you should express that you’d like some,” Tarquin answered uncertainly.
“Oh, I should express it, should I?” He giggled, and Tarquin looked so confused that it made him laugh somehow more.
Tarquin hushed his voice as the headmaster disappeared into his study, “Are you feeling alright?”
“Yes,” Regulus rolled his eyes, “can’t you allow any fun?”
“I just didn’t expect it,” Tarquin still looked confused, but smiled nonetheless. He had a very nice smile. Well, it was actually rather brutal, but Regulus found himself liking it. It was toothy, and large, and took up most of his face. “You’re acting awful giddy for someone who just fell from the sky.”
“Perhaps it changed me, then?” Regulus raised a sharp eyebrow, and Tarquin even blushed and looked back to Dumbledore’s desk.
“Funny,” Tarquin, “I’d be happy to hear that.”
Suddenly, Dumbledore returned, and the two boys straightened up as he sat down before them. “I hope I haven’t stolen any precious time from your day,” He spoke carefully, “I figured the matter to be important.”
“We were only in the middle of a game, that’s all,” Regulus shrugged.
Tarquin looked surprised, before muttering, “Regulus.”
“What?”
“It’s quite alright, Tarquin,” Dumbledore addressed him, “I suppose Regulus may be feeling a certain sense of joy from his surviving today's earlier events. Which is what I brought you here to talk about.” Dumbledore then looked at Regulus, “So, Regulus, could you humor me to be serious?”
Regulus stared at him for a few moments, misunderstanding his question, and then nodded, “Yes, Headmaster.” He felt very cold suddenly.
“Thank you,” Dumbledore nodded, and Regulus straightened in his chair, “I am sure you are frighteningly aware of a certain student, or entity’s, desire to harm you, Regulus. I believe you are old enough to understand this, or to be aware of it. Am I correct?”
“Yes,” Regulus raised his eyebrow again, “What exactly would you like to discuss?”
“I would like to discuss how to—“
“How about how to figure out who is doing this to me?” Regulus raised his voice slightly, “I mean, I am being attacked, Headmaster.”
“I am aware, Regulus—“
“And I shouldn’t have to be fearful in my own school,” Regulus continued, “I fear some days I may die.”
“Regulus, I—“
“And, allow me, but I feel it is perhaps your fault for failing to solve—“
“Mr. Black.” Regulus stopped himself, and finally looked back at his Headmaster. “I would appreciate it if you would allow me to speak my own thoughts, as you are now.” Regulus nodded, and Dumbledore cleared his throat, “I came to inform you that if we do not discover the culprit of these doings, we may have to temporarily remove you from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”
Regulus felt cold again, “What?”
“It may be deemed as an unsafe environment for you, Mr. Black,” Dumbledore continued, “I could not allow that.”
Regulus felt betrayed, harmed, “How could you do that?” He shot, “why do I have to suffer?!”
“Nobody is saying that you have to suffer.”
“Yes! Yes, you are!” Regulus stood up, “I should not be to blame!”
“Regulus,” Regulus heard Tarquin speak from his chair, “please—“
“No!” Regulus didn’t even look at him, “I will not leave!”
“Regulus—“
“Fuck off, Tarquin!” Regulus practically shouted, and looked to his friend who was red in the face.
“Do not speak to me that way!” Tarquin shouted back at him.
“Enough!” Suddenly, everything closed, and both of them looked at their headmaster. “I expected that I could have this conversation maturely with the both of you present. I was wrong,” He shook his head, “please, leave my office.”
Regulus looked at him with horror, before shoving his chair back and storming away. He walked down the marble stair, past the door, and into the hallway.
Tarquin came into the hallway a bit later than Regulus had. Regulus turned to him, but Tarquin shook his head, “No, I don’t want to talk to you.” He attempted to walk away from him.
“Oh, fuck you, then,” Regulus muttered.
“Fuck me?” Tarquin whipped around, “You’re a bloody lunatic!”
“I am not!” Regulus yelled, “You don’t understand anything!”
“Yes, I do!” Tarquin shook his head, mad, “You are such— you are—“ He tried very hard to contain himself, “I could never be with you, Regulus!”
Regulus’ eyes widened, “Lower your—“
“No, no, I won’t,” Tarquin shook his head, they were alone, “you are one person one moment, and the next you’re someone entirely different! I could never be with you!” His eyes were white hot, and they burned fire into Regulus, “It’s hard enough being your fucking friend. I don’t know how anyone will ever be able to love you.”
Regulus stared at him, and when he had nothing to say, or nothing he could say any more, Tarquin turned away and left him there.
He stood for a while. Staring at the ground, unsure of himself or what to do. Eventually he began to drift down the hallways, walking to somewhere he didn’t know. Faces passed by that tried to speak, but he couldn’t hear. He didn’t want to. He didn’t need to.
Oh, God.
Everything hurts.
But he kept walking, he was looking.
Go, go, go.
He kept walking through the halls.
Maybe they’ve seen me already.
And Regulus’ eyes felt blurry, and everything was a mess.
Why would you say that?
“Sirius!”
Sirius turned around. Regulus didn’t even think about who he was next to, or who they were around. But he saw the look of surprise on his brother’s face.
“Yes?” Sirius asked, quite botheredly.
“Hello,” Regulus cleared his throat, shaking his head, “I just—“
“What is it?” Sirius asked, and Regulus recognized the look on his brother’s face. Embarrassment.
“What, am I…” Regulus looked around, “am I bothering you?”
“Well, yeah,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “What do you want? Is it important?”
“You don’t want to talk to me?”
Sirius looked back at Regulus suddenly, “What’s the fucking matter?”
Regulus looked at Sirius, and then Remus Lupin, and then at James Potter and Peter Pettigrew, and it came down at once.
Regulus turned away, nearly bolting down the hallway, and ran into the nearest washroom. He walked inside, slammed the door, and he didn’t know where he was in the castle. But he punched the door, and cradled his hand afterwards.
He didn’t feel like himself. He felt so bad.
I’m so bad.
And thoughts piled into his head. And his hands shook, and he felt so sick, and so tired of everything around him. And he was foolish to think, he was foolish to even imagine or…
Well, I’m just foolish.
And he looked up to the candlelight above him, and wished it would engulf him, and flame him whole.
But it was only a wish.