Storm grey eyes stared at him with a malice that James Potter had not thought possible. The air smelt of burning ozone and crackled with magic as sparks danced across Regulus’ finger tips clenched taught around a wand pointed straight at him.
Protego. James thought just in time as a bolt of magic flung his way. He gritted his teeth at the backlash as the curse battered the shield charm. Regulus had gotten strong, stronger than a sixth year should be. The grass beneath James’ feet withered grey as it absorbed the rest of the spell’s magic.
“Regulus, whatever this is about, let’s talk it through.” James said, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “You’re a prefect, you don’t want to get into trouble.”
“What do you know Potter?” Regulus snarled, flicking his wand. James dodged this one, diving to the side and pulling himself to his feet. Glancing at where he had been, James saw a crater deep in the earth. He did not dwell on what that curse would have done if he hadn’t gotten out of the way.
“I know you’ve avoided getting dragged into this Slytherin-Gryffindor corridor fighting. So why are you- Protego!” Another spell was sent his way. This time his shield shattered and sent him blasting backwards. James hit the ground with a thump, his wand falling from his grasp.
A shadow fell over him and James dived for his wand only for no spell to fall.
“Get out the way!” Regulus screamed and James looked up. Sirius stood in front of him, hand resting lightly on his wand which was pointed to the ground, almost nonchalantly, although James knew his best friend stood ready.
“No, Regulus.” Sirius said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper but somehow carrying across the empty space between the brothers.
“Move!” Regulus gestured with his wand and sparks of green light spat out of the tip. Sirius did not flinch.
“I’m not going to let you hurt James.” Sirius said, not letting his eyes move from his brother. James got to his feet, dusting off the dirt. He noticed Regulus’ near black eyes, wild with anger, glance between the two as they stared out of sunken sockets. The wand twitched, trying to get a clear shot at him but Sirius stood firmly between the two.
“Regulus, lower your wand.” Sirius’ voice had a forced calmness as he spoke. Regulus did not lower his wand.
“I can take you both.” He snarled, taking a step forward.
“I don’t doubt that. But you won’t, will you?” Sirius pressed, taking a small step forward.
There was a flash of light and the smell of singed air but Sirius remained unscathed. He took another step forward and after a flicker of emotion that James could not place, Regulus stepped back.
“I’m warning you!” He growled, eyes darting, like a trapped creature, wand shaking.
“Consider myself warned, Reggie.” Sirius said, then more urgently. “Reggie, tell me what’s wrong. This isn’t like you. Please. Is… Has mother…” His voice shook.
James remembered fifth year. The dreadful ‘prank’ that Sirius had played on Snape, which had nearly got their fellow student killed. It had been one in a long line of pranks that were increasing in maliciousness from Sirius that had only ended when he had run from home. Acting out. That was how his parents described it in tight lips as they helped Sirius to learn to control his temper.
“What do you care?” Regulus spat. “If you’d loved me, you wouldn’t have left, would you? If you actually cared about what went on at home, you would have stuck around. You would have stayed for me!”
“Reg, is she hurting you?” Sirius pressed, stepping forward once more.
Regulus laughed and flicked his wand carelessly. A tree caught fire and James quickly put it out before it could attract attention. Regulus didn’t even seem to notice, his eyes wild as he continued his mirthless laugh.
“Answer me!” Sirius screamed, his voice breaking from the calmness he had desperately been trying to keep. “Please! Reg! Talk to me! Speak to me!”
“You seriously think anything can be as dreadful as you leaving?” Regulus asked callously. “That anything could come close to the pain that caused me. You didn’t even think to talk to me before you left with your tail tucked between your legs. You’re a coward and a wimp. I know you like to think you’re in Gryffindor for some noble purpose, that you have some kind of ‘bravery’ but we both know that’s wrong, don’t we? You weren’t resilient enough for Slytherin. You lacked our determination in the face of hardship. You may have been born first but mother is right. You’ve always been second best.”
“Sirius.” James said, reaching for his friend. Sirius shrugged him off.
“No. It’s fine. I get it.” Sirius’ shoulders slumped. “I am weak. I should have left earlier. I should have done more to protect you from their vitriol. But I’m here now, Reggie. I’m ready to listen to you, to talk to you. Please, let me in. Let me help.”
“I don’t need a blood traitor’s help!” Regulus spat. “I’m doing fine.”
James saw how his body trembled, taut, and wound up… How pale Regulus was... He could not help but notice that Regulus wore his winter robes despite the warmth of late Spring. James remembered how passionately the Slytherin had thrown himself into Quidditch. Over the Christmas break he had become slighter, faster, more reckless and determined; as if he had nothing left to loose and everything to prove.
“Regulus-” James started but the sixth year flung a spell that narrowly missed his head and cracked into the ground, showering them with dirt and grass. James quickly sheltered himself and Sirius with a flick of his wand but Sirius took no noticed, his eyes silently begging Regulus.
“Please, Reg, stop this. This… it isn’t you. It’s not like you at all.”
“What would you know? You were never my brother. I’m glad that you are disowned, and the family can now fall into proper hands. You are a disgrace, unworthy of even having graced the house of my forebears.”
Sirius flinched.
“Come on, James.” He said, throwing an arm over him and pulling James in close. “We’re going in.”
“Afraid to face me?” Regulus bellowed after them. James felt Sirius stiffen, noticed his friend’s eyes flutter.
“No. Smart enough not to take this further. Go back to your dorm, Regulus.” Sirius said firmly, not turning.
Regulus fired another spell that narrowly missed James.
“He won’t risk hitting you with me this close.” Sirius whispered softly. Then, more quietly, as if to himself: “I hope.”
“Yes, run away from your mess like you always do!” The voice echoed after them as they made their way back to the cold stone halls of Hogwarts
Regulus sat with his hands clenched. Dumbledore and Slughorn were looking at him. Not at him. Down on him. It was as the Dark Lord said, they thought them children who they could brainwash without repercussions. What did the teachers know? Regulus had already fought, had already seen the horrors of war. He was too old for their judgement.
“Do you have something to say?” Regulus finally snapped, dark eyes flicking between the two of them.
“Potter informed us-”
“How hypocritical of him. He never reported himself for any of the curses he levelled at the Slytherins but the moment one of us gives him the taste of his own potion-”
“Forgive me, Mister Black, but judging from the state of the school grounds, your curses were rather more of a dark nature than any that Potter has cast.”
Regulus’ fingers dug into his hands.
“He has had years of tormenting anyone who doesn’t agree with him.”
“This is rather more to do with the severity of the curses, Regulus.” Slughorn said, his voice rather stern. It was a tone he had never taken with him. Even if Slughorn worked under the old fool, he still respected the power of Old Blood and few had better claim than the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.
“Was it that severe?” Regulus asked, feigning innocence with a slight cock of his head and a blink.
“Merlin, Regulus! It looked like you cast a decaying curse at Potter! Even outside of school that curse is banned, especially for use on living beings.” Slughorn exclaimed.
“Perhaps you are mistaken. I don’t believe you can firmly attribute any damage by me, nor prove that that was the curse fired.”
“The fact that your parents have paid for the early removal of the Trace from you does not reflect well in the wider scale of things.” Dumbledore said. “If they expect you to-”
“I paid for the Trace to be removed from myself.” Regulus interrupted, looking up at the Headmaster. “Don’t you think that it is rather worrying that the government seeks to control and monitor children? And more troublesome that they’ll remove it early for only a couple hundred galleons?”
“Regulus, what reason would you have for needing to remove the Trace?” Slughorn asked.
“Purely as a protest, I assure you. As I am certain you are all aware, the Trace is a pointless measure on one such as myself. I am constantly surrounded by witches and wizards of age and the spells that they cast will have always registered on my presence. I have no need of it and the Ministry has no use for it.”
“Apart from the fact that it registers what spells have been cast.” Dumbledore said softly. “Which is rather useful when it comes to the matter of illegal curses.”
“True.” Regulus conceded, leaning back in his chair, jaw raised in defiance, challenging Dumbledore to suggest that he might have gotten the trace removed so he could cast Unforgivables – unjustly frowned on by society.
“It rather seems, and I trust this will not seem presumptuous, that your reasons for removing the Trace may rather be to avoid monitoring of your spell work.” Tactful.
Regulus smiled with a sickly sweetness.
“It is purely as a demonstration against the futility of the Trace. I assume Professor Slughorn has made you aware of my political ambitions.”
“Be that as it may, you have used the lack of monitoring of your spellwork to try to avoid the repercussions of the curses you cast at Mister Potter.”
“I’m merely pointing out that you can’t pin anything more malicious on me than a schoolboy fight.”
“Why did you feel the need to attack Mister Potter?” Dumbledore asked curiously, looking at Regulus over the top of his half moon spectacles. Regulus looked away.
“You must understand that this doesn’t look very good, Regulus.” Slughorn pressed. Regulus knew his position as a favourite of Slughorn would only stretch so far. He pressed his lips together.
“Potter has cast plenty of spells on those he deems unworthy. Look at Severus. The four of them have spent their entire school careers teaming up to pick on him and if the teachers have ever taken action, it has done nothing to curb their enthusiasm for bullying. My actions are a speck on their career.”
“I seem to recall that I have been seeing Potter improve these last two years. In fact, his change in good behaviour did enough to grant him the privilege of Head Boy. A position I had thought you might aspire to.”
“And has this alone has put me out of the running?” Regulus asked, leaning back and regarding Dumbledore with distaste. He knew that the muggle lover would never choose someone like him. It had been a long time since someone of the Sacred Twenty-Eight (or one who had not been a blood traitor) had been given that role. Oh, they more often than not got the role of prefect – a paltry attempt to keep them appeased – but the privilege of Head Boy and Girl went to people whose politics aligned with the Headmaster.
“You are a model student, Regulus.” Slughorn said, sounding more confused than anything else. Regulus’ eyes remained fixed on Dumbledore’s.
“Go on, how likely do you think it was that you’d have made me Head Boy before any of this.” He challenged. “It’s nearly the start of summer, you’ll have begun compiling a list – if not actually settled on your top choices.”
“Naturally I had put you forward.” Slughorn said.
“It has been reported to me that you might not work well with some of the options I have for Head Girl.” Dumbledore conceded. Regulus’ lips twisted in a smirk.
“And no matter what, that would take precedence. I could be the perfect student, not a toe out of line and that would deny me the role.”
“Blood supremacy has no place in this school Mister Black.”
Regulus blinked slowly.
“I have never said anything untoward towards-” There was a pause as he considered his words. “People born differently. They cannot help their circumstances. Factors beyond their control lead to them being raised in ignorance, blind to the realities of the world. It is a great shame that they should have spent so long devoid of The Truth.”
“You are echoing arguments that I have heard before, Mister Black.” Dumbledore said softly. “And you should know, if you do care about muggleborns, that those who seek to bring the wizarding world out of hiding may preach acceptance in one breath, but the truth is that they will be second class citizens.”
Regulus shrugged. The way he saw it, they would be citizens, just those more worthy – with the correct heritage – would rule society by virtue of being better. If anyone would be second class, it would be the muggles once the wizarding world was free from hiding. He was tired of living beneath them, hiding who he was. He saw no reason that their kind should be forced to live in hiding when they could rule instead. He would be a benevolent ruler to those beneath him, returning their devotion with kindness. It was a shame that some, like Dumbledore, did not understand that.
“You wouldn’t choose me for Head Boy.”
“Because of your actions, Mister Black. Not because of anything else.”
“Because of actions you think I may take.”
Dumbledore sighed.
“I will have to write you your parents to inform them of this incident.” Dumbledore said, pulling a sheet of paper towards him.
“Fine.” Regulus said with a shrug. He did not think mother or father would mind him attacking the blood traitor who had corrupted Sirius. The man who had stolen his brother. Their hatred of Potter may not be as strong as him but they had no love of him either.
“And you will have detention.”
“I don’t care.”
“I think every night for the next two weeks might be sufficient. And a letter of apology.”
“Can’t I do three weeks instead of writing an apology?”
“Mister Black-”
“Four.” Regulus bargained. A month of detention would spare him from more raids, might lessen the nightmares. Might help him actually be to ween himself off of dreamless sleep. He just needed to get on top of it so he could bring about their new world without carrying that baggage.
“Regulus, if something is going on, you can let us know. We’re here to help you.” Slughorn said softly.
“I just don’t want to apologise to Potter. He doesn’t deserve it.”
Dumbledore sighed.
“Two weeks and an apology. I will expect to see some remorse as well, Mister Black.”
“I’ll put on my best face.” Regulus offered. He would fake it and so no reason to hide that. Once the Dark Lord had taken over the Wizarding World, he’d be thanked for what he had done to save their kind. Regulus had secured his family a prominent place in the new world. The opinion of an old, dithering muggle lover meant little to him.
“He’s not said my name once since I left.” Sirius said, staring up at the ceiling, his grey eyes distant and pained.
“Dumbledore’s shifted his Prefect work.” James muttered, looking over the schedule. Regulus had patrols only with other purebloods but not any Slytherins.
“Not once. He won’t call me Sirius, he won’t call me Black. I… It’s mother and father. Reg’s too soft to be so angry.” Sirius said.
“He packs quiet a punch.” James muttered, rubbing his wand arm. He may not have taken a hit but it ached something dreadful.
“They’ve probably put him through training.” Sirius said.
“I think Severus joined the Death Eaters.” James said softly. “And the Rosiers.”
“You’re paranoid.”
“They know dark curses.”
“Mate, we got a detention for blowing someone’s head up last year. I didn’t even know that was a dark curse.”
“That’s illegal, not dark.”
“He’s not joined. Regulus isn’t a Death Eater. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.”
James sighed, looking at Sirius, who had propped himself up on his elbows to look at him.
“He wasn’t aiming to take prisoners, Pads.” James said softly.
“He’s just hurt. I should have told him I was leaving. I should have said something.”
“It’s not your fault. You had to get out.”
“Reg’s too soft. I should have known they would get to him.” Sirius said, falling back onto the bed. James closed his eyes and counted to five.
“I’m sorry, Pads.” He whispered.