Consequences

Regulus-1977

Regulus has never been brave. 

Perhaps, he had come close- moved a hand near to wand when Walburga threatened Sirius. Come close- to grasping his wand, helping his brother, protecting all that mattered to him.

But he had only ever 'come close' .

'He never acted, never made a single choice in his life.'

Regulus never attempted to try, never presented bravery. All Regulus could do was think. 

Regulus would brood in the dorms, he would think of fate, duty-

'Think of the consequences.'

But he would never be brave enough to suffer them. 

One could think that they wished to change- think they could finally take a stand.

But thinking was not doing.

Regulus was not brave.

He was not brave the day Sirius left- he had watched of course. Neither joining or attempting to stop him. He had just watched- as his brother walked away from his world. His life. 

Regulus would never be brave. 

He was weak the day he met James Potter, shining as the sun would, brilliant. Regulus had fallen, both metaphorically and literally. James had extended his hand. If Regulus was brave, he would’ve taken it. 

Sirius would’ve taken it. 

But he was not his brother, so Regulus sneered, batted the hand away.

He got up himself and he left.

Regulus could not be brave.

There was no room for bravery in Grimmauld place, no room for fearless disregard at home. Home was a room full of snakes, watching- wondering who would lunge forward first. Who would bite.

They hiss, they wait, they follow. 

Regulus was nothing yet everything like them. He was not dissimilar to those who raised him. Regulus is the child that hides, enclosed in shadowed night, ducking to corners. The boy that let his brother take the brunt of every hex. Every bite and sting- Sirius took. Though Regulus himself was bitten too, Sirius had taken the venom. Perhaps believing that his brother would one day repay him. Join him. 

But Regulus was not Sirius.

When Sirius left, Regulus began to take the sting himself- the bite- the fizz of poison embedding into his veins. It corrupted him. Regulus felt like poison. The only solace to his tainted blood found in words.

He wrote pages upon pages of poems- looming over the intent in every word. Perhaps poetry is but a coward's confession. Feelings spilling into every syllable. 

He gazed at the stars, at Sirius’ star. He could’ve ran, could’ve stopped him. He could be looking at the very real brother of his. Could’ve laughed and found himself friends with his sibling. 

Regulus knows his cowardice had placed a million comfortable miles between the pair. A comfort that allowed the boy to look up to his brother’s star- and fall apart. 

He wrote of Walburga, wrote of Orion. Of everyone. He practised occlumency- placing his walls high to shroud his body from harm. To allow somebody in is to harm oneself. To bite the peach is to offend the God. To trust the brother is to betray the family. 

His walls tower higher with each session, he’s proud of it- how secret he keeps his truth. 

The thing about walls though, their safety begets isolation.

And Merlin is Regulus alone.

                                                                                              𓂃⊹ °˖°｡⋆✺༺✴༻✺⋆｡°˖°⊹𓂃 

“Prongsss, I’m soo bored.”, Sirius complained, legs lazily sprawled over the couch.

“I’m sure we can change that Padfoot”, James returned, smirking. 

“Ooooo, what you thinking? A prank? Merlin James please say it’s a prank”, Sirius drawled, the posh pureblood accent he tried to hide leaking into his words. 

James smiled, “Of course it’s a prank Pads, what do you take me for?”

“Oh I wanna know, could we change Snivellus' hair colour to green? Maybe charm a couple broom cupboards to open when two or more people get in it? Dye Mrs Morris blue?”

Sirius was practically jumping up and down now, James wouldn’t be surprised if Sirius grew a tail at that point, just so he could wag it.

“I’m thinking of something on a slightly larger scale, Y’know. Put our names back on the map- pun intended.”

“It has been a while since we reminded everyone, the Marauders are back baby! I’m gonna go get Moony and Wormtail”- Sirius yelled charging down the dorm into the bedrooms.

“Oh Moony- wakey wakey big guy. Peter! Up now.”- James could distantly hear rustling, followed by a pair of groans.

Remus sluggishly stammered into the room, half-asleep. Sirius was good at getting Remus to do anything- but ‘Merlin if looks could kill’, he thought. It was common knowledge in the Gryffindor dorms, not to wake Remus Lupin up. On penalty of glaring daggers. Peter was already solid, quietly walking into the room- confused but barely annoyed. Their Pete had always been prepared to follow them into battle. 

Well if someone would consider a prank a battle. James and the other Marauders certainly did.

James giggled to himself, he was sure, no-

Certain. That this prank would be the best one yet.

He checked his watch, 6:30am, breakfast would begin to be served now. 

James tied on his laces, and set off to The Great Hall, in the hopes it would be quiet this early in the morning. The schemes and plans for their future pranks bounced off the walls of his skull- leaving it partly up to muscle memory to navigate the moving staircase- though they also seemed to be less lively this morning. They must be preoccupied too, or just tired.

He completely missed the figure of Evan rosier- almost walking head first into him. The boy gave him an odd look, likely confused, though he didn’t sneer as most Slytherins would have done. He simply said “Morning”, and brushed past him, continuing down the hallway. 

James wanted to yell ‘ SORRY!’ to Rosier- but he had the feeling the boy would not quite appreciate that.

Evan continued down the hallway, almost instantly forgetting the near clash with James Potter. He continued down the stairs, seemingly caught up in his thoughts as he headed to his dorm room- eager to wake up Regulus, just to see the look on that furrowed face of his. Evan always rose first. Though it was to his dismay that Regulus had already woken, writing in a leather-bound journal, deep in thought.

Regulus awoke that morning in a daze, going through the motions of wake as if it were second nature. Get up, shower, change and write.           He was good at motions, good at complacency- and well- he liked to believe he was good at writing too. 

“Reggie- darling- my dawning star, how are you this fine morning?”- Evan teased, clapping him on the back- distracting him from his writing. Regulus placed the notebook down- sporting a grimace. 

“I hate that you’re a morning person Rosier.”, Regulus grumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes.

“We do seem to balance eachother out like that baby”

Regulus took a breath, it was far too early for this shit.

“If you keep on spouting declarations of love, people are going to talk.”

Evan chuckled, ruffling the hair on Regulus’ head.

“Wouldn’t that be something Reg, two male pureblood heirs, shagging in the dormitories- Slughorn would grow another head if he found out”

Now it was Regulus’ turn to laugh, he didn’t usually laugh- he barely even smiled. Somehow Evan always brought it out of him, no matter how brooding and moody he was.

“Walburga would hex me to oblivion. Two sons, one a runaway and the other a pansy? She’d probably combust”- he smiled, though technically Regulus himself was gay, the idea that Walburga would die if she found out, tempted him to come forward. 

“Pansies are very pretty flowers I’ll have you know- no wait- you think Slugclub would ban us? Oh Merlin nooo! Our dear Slugclub, what would we do without it?”- he feigned a frown, wiping non-existent tears from his eyes.

“You and I both know that you’ve never attended once.”

“Neither have you, Reggie” Evan accused- holding his hand to his chest, face contorted in mock offence. 

“You better not tell anybody that you call me that”

Evan prodded at his shoulder, “What Reggie, Reg, Reginald- baby”

“All of the above, I’d never live it down”

“I’ll protect your reputation- people can’t know that you’re not all brooding, sad and poetic”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, “To be honest Evan, I am mainly those things. I am self aware, you know?”.

“I swear on my shitty father, your secret is safe with me…” He declared before pausing for dramatic effect “……baby”

Regulus couldn’t help but grin, “I hate you”

“Is ‘hate’ French for ‘love’?”

“Absolutely not”

                                                                                           ₊·‧͙⁺˚*･༓⭑-𖤓༺☼༻𖤓-⭑༓･*˚⁺‧͙·₊                                                                                        

The prank was more than a success, such a success that- Dumbledore himself spoke to the entire Great Hall at dinner, rising to the podium. 

“As many of you have already been made abundantly aware, a stunt was pulled early this morning- switching house clothing, banners and colours”

Mumbles made their way through each table, either complaining, laughing themselves or throwing out their accusations of who may have done it. James was proud to hear the Marauders making their way into those suspicions. “Back on the map” .

“It was brilliant” , James thought- attempting to suppress a gleam- he was practically glowing with pride- even when wearing blue robes. Absolutely worth it.

Colovaria was a colour changing charm, a simple spell- even a fourth year could do it. It was reversible though, that is what James worked on changing. 

He had spent a week attempting to prolong the spell, managing to get the duration to a day- without reversal. He was so damn excited to tell the other Marauders.

Perhaps people believed James was not the brightest of students, that he couldn’t apply himself. What they didn’t know was that all of the Marauders were secretly nerds, him and Sirius only allowing it to shine when devising their pranks. 

And shine it did. 

“I would implore the perpetrators of this…prank”, Dumbledore continued, his eyes betraying his serious tone as they twinkled.

“To come forward, and face lesser punishment”

Now that caused James to smile, hiding a laugh, ''Come forward? He thinks the marauders would come forward?"'

James would never do such a thing, never admit to a prank. It was their pact, the one they had made all those years ago- “One for all and all for One- we Solemnly swear we are up to no good” , they were young when they had created it, and well it certainly showed- it wasn't exactly the epitome of poetry on their part. But regardless it was a rule the marauders lived by- there would be no snitching, no admittance- when having their fun. 

The Slytherins grumbled about the idea of lesser punishment- harder to take seriously in yellow robes. The Ravenclaws in red, not seeming to care all that much. The Hufflepuffs in green, looking intensely uncomfortable. 

Sirius nudged James, whispering, “Not bad for a comeback ay”.

James could no longer suppress his smile.

“Not at all Pads, Not at all.”