Chapter 5
Scene I, Sirius
When Regulus and him get back to the Castle, everyone is asleep. Even James, which is saying something. Sure enough his bedside table clock reads 4:07 am, and he muffles a groan into his pillow. The cast list will be up by eight am, meaning they’re expected to see it at eight am, and be in class for nine ready to brainstorm and rehearse the first few scenes.
“Pads?” Comes a groggy voice. Fuck, and now he’s woken James up (not a difficult task).
“Sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s fine,” James mumbles, sitting up and flicking on his lamp. “How did talking with Reg go?”
“Better than I thought,” he admits.
Regulus wanted to tell James himself, so Sirius elects to let him. But the words still sit on the tip of his tongue, not only because he normally tells James everything, but because he’s worried. Regulus is right, someone sent their parents that invitation, and everyone in this house knows what their parents are like.
“This program—“ he stops, trying to figure out how to explain this. “I think, sometimes, it really messes us up.”
“What do you mean?” And James has that concerned look in his eyes, leaning closer, like Sirius might fall apart.
“Everyone in this program, at some point or another, snaps—or at least comes close to it. Then they get kicked out, go home, move on with their life, but we don’t get to.…move on after this. I feel like maybe this year, it’s going to get under our skin in a way we won’t be able to get out.”
“Sirius,” James says cautiously. “Whatever happens this year, I promise we will face it together.”
Sirius smiles sadly, “that’s not what I’m worried about, Prongs.”
It’s a silly thing.
Their nicknames.
Remus, whom they call Moony because despite James being the insomniac, Remus is the one with a temper when he’s tired. Used to joke he was a werewolf he'd get so gloomy after late night study sessions.
James, Prongs, because when he was a background fairy in midsummer nights dream their second year, Lily—working as a makeup and hair stylist (also for the play) had done his hair into these two horrible points. Alice Forscue—who just graduated last year—had to re-do it last minute. Not before everyone took photos of course.
And Sirius, padfoot, James’ nickname for him because he sneaks around so quietly most nights, James will usually sleep right through it.
When James, Sirius, and Regulus first got to university Regulus was doing this whole I have to be independent and make my own friends thing, so Sirius felt pretty adrift. Sure, he had James, but he’s always had James. And James was also expanding his world, making new friends, joining clubs and stuff. And Sirius just wasn’t.
But then—
Remus was Regulus’ roommate. He was right next door, and Sirius just—he had to know him. He was rooming with his little brother, and he was in their program. So, he’d invite them both over. Regulus would decline, or would already have plans, but Remus would say yes.
And Remus—
Sirius loves acting.
He loves theatre, being on stage, and playing a character.
But the way Remus talks about Shakespeare? Nothing on earth has ever left him feeling so inspired.
And when Sirius was at his worst, when he truly deserved no forgiveness, Remus forgave him. James forgave him.
The other people in this house don’t understand why.
But the three of them do.
So no, Sirius isn’t worried about losing James—or Remus.
He’s worried the people they’ll be at the end of this year won’t be the ones sitting across from each other right now.
He can see it. How everyone is pushing themselves.
Montgomery’s plan to dissect them, someone exposing Regulus to danger at the end of last term—and having no clue who did it.
It’s like he can smell the storm coming.
Scene II, Lily
She’s Juliet.
She’s fucking Juliet.
Half of her is giddy. The other half wonders what the hell they were thinking, but Montgomery gives her a little nod when they get to class that morning which leaves her feeling a little embolden. Sirius is giddy too, he got the part of Mercutio. James, obviously, is playing Romeo.
Lily is suddenly very grateful they cleared the air, because when he turns to her and says, “O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!” And ruffles her hair she laughs, slapping his hand away, making a face.
“You kiss by th’ book,” she teases back. Her tone indicating it’s not a compliment.
“Oi,” he mocks offence.
“Oh, Lils, don’t even try. I’ve been trying to get him to kiss me for years,” Sirius comes up behind her, slinging his arm around her shoulders.
James rolls his eyes, but before he can respond Montgomery tells them to quiet down and take their seats.
Thankfully, none of them have to get up on the stage for “fear purging” today.
Instead, they’re starting their character analysis. Finding out how they want to play the characters.
Lily wants her Juliet to be bold.
Barty was right, she doesn’t know how to play the soft characters, but Juliet isn’t soft. She’s strong enough to leave everything she knows behind in a world where a woman has little to no value outside marriage. She is strong enough to say no to marrying Paris—choosing the chance, the love, she has with Romeo to seek a better life.
Lily intends to do that girl justice.
Surprisingly, Regulus sits down to join her.
He’s been cast as Friar Lawrence, and he seems happy enough with it. It’s hard to tell with Regulus sometimes.
Lily: “Bit of a downgrade from Duke Orsino.”
Regulus: “Bit of an upgrade from the shrew.”
Lily: “Hey, I loved playing Kathrine.”
Regulus: “And I am forever grateful I understudied that semester.”
Lily hums, “I do pity the poor fools who had to deal with all our shouting.”
Barty had played Pertrutio. By the end of the semester they’d barely been able to stand being in the same room together. Even McGonagall and Montgomery had been sick of it.
Juliet and Tybalt should give them enough breathing room from each other.
They kind of sit in silence for a bit, reading their individual scripts. It’s not…awkward. But Regulus doesn’t normally choose to sit with her. He goes to Barty, or Evan, or James and Sirius. Hell, even Remus is a better sitting companion in this situation because he just disappears into his work.
Surprisingly, Regulus is the one to break the silence. “I kind of need a favour.”
“Oh?”
“You…work.”
Lily laughs, “yes, Regulus. I have a job. Some of us have this little thing called bills to pay.”
“I need to get one. A job, I mean.”
Lily quirks her brow, “You need a job? Is this for like, world experience or something?”
“No,” Regulus grimaces. “My parents cut me off.”
“Oh,” Lily’s smile falls, “Regulus, I’m so sorry.”
“It is what it is,” he says curtly, “but I’m kind of…out of my depth here.”
“Do you have a resume?” She asks, and by his blank stare assumes the answer is no. “Ok, after class we’ll go to the library and make one for you. Your summer job will help a bunch, and being admitted to this program. Do you know where you want to work?”
Regulus shakes his head, “I was just going to apply everywhere.”
“Thats what I did. Campus jobs only pay you for ten hours a week, so I work at the school library on the weekend. Then, most week mornings I open at a cafe downtown. I don’t know how well you’d survive the service industry, but I’ve heard the tips are the best at Roastology.”
“That’s where I need to be then,” Regulus agrees. “I need to make enough to cover winter tuition.”
Lily winces. Her scholarship is nice, but it only drops the amount from twelve thousand to six thousand. She can’t even imagine paying full. “You could always apply for financial aid.”
“Deadlines past,” he sighs, rubbing his face. “My uncle pays Sirius’ tuition, but this would be too much for him. I can’t—“
“I get it,” Lily puts her hand on top of his. “Welcome to the club.”
“Club?”
“Poor university students. Me and Remus have t-shits and everything.” His confused expression turns into an eye roll when he realizes she’s joking.
“It’s like this cloud of anxiety hanging over me at all times,” he confesses. “I knew I had a safety net, but I didn’t realize how safe I really was.”
“Was this because your parents found out about you attending here?”
Regulus’ gaze snaps to her, suddenly cold and furious. “How did you know about that?”
Lily throws her hands up, “whoa, ok, it’s kind of the worst kept secret on campus.”
“What?”
“I mean, they kicked Sirius out for it, so everyone figured you were just lying. Billionaires don’t tend to check where all their money goes, it wasn’t that far of a stretch.”
The anger on Regulus’ face dissipates, leaving something impossible to read behind. “So everyone knew?”
“I mean, probably not everyone. Just the ones who look closer at things.”
“How did you know?”
“I think Marlene guessed it,” Lily frowns, thinking back. “Like, second year maybe? When her and Sirius got close doing Midsummer, I mean, before Sirius got kicked off the show.”
“Right,” he says, voice distant. “But everyone in our program. Everyone here.”
Lily tilts her head, “does it matter? No one thinks badly of you for it, hell I bet Barty and Evan would congratulate you if you confirmed it.”
“Maybe,” Regulus trails off, his gaze going around the room. Lily’s eye catches on Barty and Evan goofing off in the corner of the stage, using pool noodles as swords. Montgomery’s always had a soft spot for those two, lets them get away with things nobody else does.
“It’s not a bad thing. Learning to take care of yourself,” Lily says, dragging Regulus’ gaze back to her.
“What?”
“Getting a job, funding yourself. I may not know the details, but this could be the first step towards something good.”
“Yeah,” Regulus gives her a small smile. “Maybe.”
“Now,” Lily crosses her legs, holding up her book. “Lets get back to R&J before Montgomery starts throwing us the stink eye.”
Regulus laughs, and they work in compatible silence for the rest of the class.
Scene III, Marlene McKinnon
She doesn’t mean to snoop.
It’s just so easy to stand outside Professor Montgomery’s office and hear the shouting. She’d come here to talk with him anyways. Understudying for Barty’s role as Tybalt? Why on earth is that her assignment this semester. It’s their fourth year, she nailed her audition, ergo, she deserves a main non-understudying role.
But when she makes her way down the hall, muffled voices becomes raised ones.
“—protocol, Barty. There’s nothing you or your father can do about it.”
“It was a mistake, ok? Is that what you want me to admit? I made a mistake. It was a first offence, and you want to withdraw me from the fall festival? There are managers at these things. The amount of oppertunities—“
“Barty, my hands are tied. This is an order from the Dean himself. Dumbledore—“
“My family practically pays Dumbledore’s paycheck,” something slams to the ground. Clatters. Like he knocked the shit out of Montgomery’s desk.
“As a student here, you’re subject to all the same rules and regulations. My good word is one of the few things that swayed their mind from a full expulsion!”
“Expulsion? I—“ Barty’s voice cracks, “I can’t get expelled.”
“I know,” Montgomery’s tone is serious, quieter. Marlene creeps closer. “Barty, I know how important it is for you to do well here.”
“My dad expects me to give up. He’s always hated I went the Shakespeare route.”
“Oh, I’m well aware. I don’t think you could have chosen a program more to his distaste.”
All Marlene knows about Barty’s father is he’s a film director and owns some fancy producing company in the US. He's probably an Oscar winner if Barty’s car is anything to go by.
“He’s going to regret this.”
“Barty, wait—“
Marlene steps back quickly, sensing an exit, and hides in the doorway of another office until she hears Barty’s footsteps storm off.
When she glances through the open crack of Montgomery’s door, he’s sat in his chair, hands massaging his temple with his eyes squeezed closed.
She knocks, “professor?”
He looks up, face clearing as if he hadn’t just been pinched with worry. “Miss Mikinnon, how can I help you?”
“I was just wondering,” she stutters, doing her best to act as though she didn’t just hear all that hell breaking loose. “I got cast as Tybalt’s understudy, I just think—“
“Oh,” he sits up, “that was under—sorry, circumstances were…different. You’ll be playing a gender-bent Paris.”
“Really?” Marlene’s eyes lit up, “oh that’s fantastic. I thought that third year was playing him—Edgar Bones?”
“No,” Montgomery grimaces, “Edgar Bones will be understudying Remus’ Benvolio.”
“Right…” Marlene narrows her eyes. “Does this have anything to do with the screaming match you and Barty just had?”
Montgomery’s eye twitches, “ah, you heard that.”
“The whole building heard it sir.”
“I apologize for that,” he says curtly, “everything will be business as normal going forward.”
“Of course,” Marlene smiles, “I should go—rehearsal with McGonagall soon.”
“I’ll see you bright and early Marlene,” Montgomery responds before she all but flee’s the office.
Now, Marlene has never been particularly gossipy. Dorcas loves all that stuff, but personally she’s never really cared.
But fuck
What on earth has Barty done?
Scene IV, Regulus
With Lily’s help on a resume and Remus’ car, Regulus is able to land himself three different job interviews. One at the cafe Lily recommended, the second at a bowling alley, and the third at Hogsmede.
He ends up getting the Hogsmede job and the cafe job. The bowling alley and him have creative differences to say the least.
His first day at Hogsmede is under Emmeline’s supervision, and she is not pleased with his performance.
“Regulus!” She grabs his hand as he was pouring, “that is a vodka cranberry, you cannot put dr pepper in it.”
“Sorry,” he grimaces.
“It’s fine, you’re learning. Just stick to the recipe book, or next time I’ll make you drink it.” She knocks on the menu detailing how to make every drink they serve.
“This is a sight for sore eyes,” comes a drawl from the counter. Regulus looks up to see Barty smirking at him.
“Did you order the vodka cranberry?” Emmeline asks him.
“That would be correct.”
“It’s going to be a minute.”
Barty glances at the drink in Regulus’ hand and the can of dr pepper. “I can see that.”
“Fuck off,” Regulus rolls his eyes, “you’d be more shit at this.”
“You’re probably right,” Barty takes a seat at the counter, drumming his hands on the wooden surface.
“So,” Regulus dumps the failed-drink into a nearby sink, “why the day drinking.”
“I haven’t got a part in the fall festival.”
“What?” Regulus’ head snaps up. “You’re joking, right?”
“Afraid not,” Barty looks a bit ill. Pale and shaken. “Just found out from Montgomery.”
“That sucks,” Regulus says as he tries to pour vodka into one of the tiny measuring things Emmeline showed him, nearly spilling it all over the counter.
“Listen,” Barty leans in closer, “do you know anyone who would switch with me?”
Regulus nearly laughs, “No one would ever do that. Maybe James if you pleaded your case pathetically enough, but even he’s excited for this.”
“Please, Reg,” Barty whines, “I really need to be in this.”
“Why? It’s not like you’re short of opportunities to perform Barty. With your dads legacy you’ll—“
“Don’t bring him into this,” Barty cuts him off, voice sharper than Regulus expected. “He’s after Dumbledore to cut me out of the program, I barely made it through last year because of it. If I don’t prove myself this semester, I guarantee you I won’t be back for the next one.”
It’s not unheard of for someone to get cut mid-semester, or between them. But it is unlikely in fourth year. “Barty, they’re not going to do that.”
“You don’t know my father,” Barty seethes, “he would do it just to prove he can.”
“I may not know your father, but I do know mine,” Regulus points out. “The only way to win is to walk away from the power struggle. That’s all he cares about Barty. Winning. You have to withdraw from whatever game you’re playing with him—and don’t you try and say you aren’t,” he adds when Barty goes to protest. “You’ve been taking hits at each other for four years. He promises to pay your tuition if you keep spending your summers working for him. You do work for him, but you make his life a living hell the whole time. He tries to get you to audition for things, you botch them. It’s how you two are.”
He slams a perfectly fine vodka cranberry down in front of Barty. “You just need to walk away.”
“Easier said than done,” Barty grumbles.
“Believe me, I know,” Regulus says seriously, causing Barty to shrink away from his gaze. “But you can do it.”
“Just go do your job, working boy.” He can feel Barty shutting him out with those words. Sure, he stays and finishes his drink. He talks with Regulus and Emmeline about her dance program, and Romeo and Juliet. Hell, they talk about the fucking weather. But he doesn’t smile, and he sure as hell doesn’t meet Regulus’ eye.
Scene V, Barty
“I want to understudy James.”
When he walked into the Dean’s office, it was with a plan. But it’s an entirely different thing to say it out loud.
Dumbledore folds his tablet closed, looking up at Barty with a perplexed expression. “You would give up your role as Tybalt?”
“No,” Barty says seriously, “I want to do both.”
“That’s highly unorthodox Mr. Crouch. If you and Mr. Potter were unable to perform we would find ourselves in quite a mess.”
“Then I’ll make sure I go on no matter what. Besides, that third year Kingsley will be great as Tybalt.”
“Kingsley is cast to play Juliet’s father,” Dumbledore reminded him.
“Then change it.”
“Now why would I do that,” Dumbledore folds his hands, eyes taking a calculating edge. “You’ve already made mistakes this semester Mr. Crouch, you’re in no position to demand anything.”
“Because one day, I’m going to graduate and take over my fathers production company, and when I do, if you want me to continue his donations, you’re going to give me what I want.”
Dumbledore leans forward, “you and I both know you have no intention of taking over your fathers company.”
Barty sits in the chair across from him. “Is that a risk you’re willing to take? Over something as small as a casting change?”
In the end, Dumbledore’s not happy about it, but Barty gets what he wants.
James isn’t going to know what hit him.