my partner?

He takes in a deep breath and goes into a building he’s not even dared to come close to in the past year and a half. It’d be too tempting. His true home, the rink that had substituted for it had been good. But nothing could compare to the familiarity that flooded through Regulus the moment he opened those doors.

The desk worker and owner, Slughorn, was staring at him in visible bewilderment. Going off the grid did that he guesses. Regulus even threw his phone away after getting a call from his father demanding to know where he was. Thankfully he was at a coffee shop on the other end of the city, if they put in enough effort to track him.

“Horace.” He nods in resignation towards the man and walks straight past him to the changing rooms. Empty, that’s a good sign. The idea of dealing with any old regulars and them having the same stunned reaction as Slughorn is too painful. He’s already mourning the comfort of solidarity that comes in expense to his career.

His career that restarts at twenty-two minutes past ten tonight. The ISU were so particular that, if it didn’t temporarily halt his path to the olympics, he would admire them.

Once his laces are tied and fleece is zipped he walks out towards the ice. While taking off his skate guards a familiar voice catches his ears. It couldn’t be. He looks towards the direction it came from.

“So I said there’s no way you can eat a full caterpillar cake Eva-“ The voice is cut off, “Regulus?”

Pandora Rosiers eyes are gleaming back at him. Her blonde locs have gotten more decor since he last saw her, but she’s still wearing her periwinkle jacket he bought her.

“Regulus Black is that you?” She giggles, skating away from a girl Regulus doesn’t remember.

He steps onto the ice and finds his words, “It is?” Okay he could’ve done much better than that, but why wasn’t she angry at him? He’d quite literally disappeared during the run up towards the olympics from all of his friends lives.

“Happy birthday, my birthday boy!” She says grabbing onto his hands and backing up into the centre of the ice, “What a perfect day to decide to show up.”

She still remembers it’s his birthday. Even when he was still in their lives, Regulus wasn’t allowed to celebrate with them. It was a ‘waste of time’ according to his parents, so her even knowing his birthday in the first place is shocking enough.

“Yeah, about leaving.” He starts, clears his throat, and doesn’t finish. But Pandora gets it, because she always does.

“Water under the bridge, you’re here now.” She dismisses, spinning them around in circles.

“You’re going to make me be sick on my first day back here Dora.” Regulus points out after there thirtieth spin.

“Okay if you say so Mr. eight quads in a routine.” She pulls away, “C’mon then, show me some tricks.” Clapping her hands at the end like a command.

“I’m not a dog.” He sighs but moves away to start a prep into a triple lutz. Once he lands and skates back towards her she pipes up sarcastically adding an, “Of course you’re not.”

Regulus will forever be thankful to have her, as they briefly catch up on where he’s been training for the past year and what new jumps and turns he’s achieved. Not once does she bring up his silver medal. Not once does she bring up his family. Not once does she bring up their other friends. Until.

“We should all go out, you’re eighteenth, I mean you are the youngest so it only makes sense.” She shrugs, like bringing up the subject was nothing uncommon. At the comment his mind is brought back to Barty and Evan, he didn’t even get a chance to have a last conversation with them.

But Dorcas, she’d put up quite the fight when he told her he wouldn’t be able to even communicate with her. He should’ve listened of course, Dorcas was rarely, if ever, wrong. She’d told him that Grindewald and Dumbledore’s methods were toxic and destructive. Which, now looking back in clarity, how was Regulus so blinded by his coaches? They offered nothing but both mental and bodily harm.

But it worked.

“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” He responds, slotting his skate guards back into place over the blades.

“Of course, i’ll message it into the group once we get back into the changing rooms, I should really start charging my phone at night.” She sighs longingly, like it was the biggest bane to her existence. Another thing that drew the pair together, their flair for dramatics at simple things. Both would deny it of course, but they knew, sometimes Regulus would do it just in order to get on peoples nerves.

“So, if i’m even still in the group chat, I may or may not have thrown away my phone.” Regulus states pulling off his skates and tucking them into his bag.

“Not surprised, get a new one.” She drawls, tapping impatiently for her screen to light up, “And your still in it.”

A sense of relief is shot into Regulus at the words, they didn’t hate him enough to remove him. Even after all the rude remarks he made towards Dorcas for trying to interfere with his ambitions. Maybe they kept him out of spite, so one day if he did respond they could all yell at him, but the thought was best left at the back of his mind by her next words.

“Can we meet up at yours?” She pouts elongating the last word, “Assuming you have your own place. Which I am.”

Seeing Dorcas, Evan and Barty. In his apartment. Where he can’t escape. Sounds like utter hell. Just as Regulus is about to decline Pandoras eyes light up from their phone, “Ooh! We need to know your address.”

Why did she even bother asking for things at this point? The moment Pandora said something she was already set on it happening, it might as well of already happened.

He sighs and takes her phone to type in the address, the temptation to put in an incorrect one just to fuck with them was very high. But considering he probably wasn’t on the best of terms with everyone else, he kept it simple.

“They’re in London for a shoot you know?” Pandora mentions after they’d walked in comfortable silence towards the tube. An unfortunate system Regulus had to use when grabbing a taxi took too much effort after skating, unable to call Kreacher to pick him up after throwing away his phone.

“Who?” He questions, genuinely not knowing what his friend was going on about.

“Barty and Evan of course, modelling? Ring any bells?” She says moving out the way for passengers departing the train. Oh, they actually became models?

Growing up they all met through ballet lessons. Barty’s father copied Evan and Pandoras in putting his child in an ‘artistic sport’ where they met Regulus, Dorcas joined later on but she preferred choreographing to dancing. This lead them all to have scarily good posture. So once, after doing a heavy amount of weed, Barty had declared he and Evan were to be the next ubermodels. Regulus never realised how seriously Barty took his high statements before. But then again, he did buy a pet ferret after saying he must have one before passing out on a hedge immediately after. Regulus still doesn’t understand how he remembers the conversation.

“Next thing you’re going to tell me is that they’re wearing Dorcas’ clothes.” He sighs, he may or may not have stalked her instagram. She even used to beg to make Regulus’ competition costumes, which Grindewald never allowed. After seeing the works of art online, he hopes she offers again. He’d never ask.

“I mean, no, they’re walking for Saint Laurent. But she was a stylist for someone in the met gala last year.” Pandora says as if it’s the most uninteresting thing in the world, causing Regulus to look at her cautiously out the side of his eyes, and she snaps, “Oh fine! Don’t look at me like that. She styled, well, okay so she styled, um.”

“You don’t have to tell me Dora, if it’s making you struggle this much to tell me.” He says, despite the loud voice in his head begging him to shake the girls shoulders and scream, he had his suspicions from her reaction, there’s only one subject that makes her act like this to him and it’s-

“Sirius. She styled Sirius and, um, I think one of his band mates.” She rushes the words right out of his mind into the open air.

“Good for Dorcas.” He feels his jaw clench and his face goes stoic. How come the world got to see Sirius and not him? He didn’t even know they were famous enough to go to the met, he’d missed so much.

It’s your own fault, you couldn’t even bare to search his name. Coward.

“Regulus.” Pandora sighs, but he shakes a hand at her signifying to drop it. He really didn’t want to talk about his brother, especially after only re-entering Pandoras life four hours ago. Not exactly a catch up topic.

As the train comes to a halt he notices the words Piccadilly Circus flashing in orange, notifying him he’s in Soho.

“This is my stop, I’m gonna buy a new phone. If you can come round at eight that’d be good.” He says standing up, wiping sweat from his palms onto his over layers.

“I can’t wait to see your place, and dress in your sluttiest clothes we’re gonna take you out little Reggie.” She shouts after him a huge smile on her face. He shoots a mock glare at the nickname, given away by the smile in his eyes.

Going out, with his friends. Who agreed to it. So they’re definitely still friends. With alcohol, which he’s drunk a bit of, but can’t stand. Hopefully Barty brings pills, like how he did back in school, at least Regulus would be used to that.

—

Regulus rummages around his bedroom, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

where is it?

His hand clasps around a pencil, and he sighs in relief moving over towards his mirror. Kneeling down on his twelve discarded items of clothes, that he’d bought all today, he applies his under eyeliner for the nth time in the last hour. The raw pink skin replacing his dark circles show that much.

Pandora said to dress slutty which was an issue. For he escaped with only training clothes and since then bought just plain t-shirts and baggy jeans. It was originally for the low profile image, but now Regulus would be sick at the idea of putting back on his dress pants. What world were Orion and Walburga living in to think that as casual wear?

But while getting his phone, he had gone a bit overboard with clothes shopping. He was truly depriving himself, he’d realised, when he saw his reflection. This is why Barty dresses like this? He’d thought, shamelessly checking himself out. It went downhill from there, Regulus had probably spent his monthly rent in a singular day.

A buzz disrupts his movements in front of the mirror.

“Regulus? Can you come to the lobby?” The familiar voice of Evelyn flows through his intercom. He pauses his music and makes his way to the lift, checking the time on his phone. The numbers eight-fifteen read back to him.

It’s them.

The lift dings and he steps out, not looking up from his phone. If he doesn’t see them, then the reality doesn’t really set in.

“Regulus, look up from you phone, I need you to clarify some people in to your apartment.” Zabini sighs in agitation, she never did like Fridays for some unknown reason.

Regulus lifts his head and immediately his eyes are set on five figures in front of him. His breath stutters and a swirling unease consumes his stomach. He feels his eyes dart uncontrollably between all his former friends. They were all staring back expectantly.

“Reg? You good?” Barty mumbles, walking towards him with an outstretched arm, causing Regulus to step back in the lift. What was he doing? They’d all agreed to this, they weren’t about to yell obscenities at him, not sober at least.

So taking a deep breath through his nose he walks towards Barty, feeling his hands make contact with Regulus’ own shoulder.

“Yeah, yes. Evelyn these are my friends.” Regulus stutters while gesturing to the four people stood to left of him.

“Where did you find these actors? The only person you’ve had round is Kreacher in eighteen months.” Zabini smirks leaning against the front desk.

Regulus frowns and throws a glare at a snickering Evan. The observation is fair and Regulus would usually laugh, but his friends didn’t need to know that he’d not even had a guy over in a year.

“Regulus has a habit of going off the grid.” Dorcas shrugs then turns to him, “nice outfit, now show me your fancy penthouse.”

Regulus rolls his eyes to hide his smile at the compliment. He’d guessed right considering what all his friends were wearing. They were all matching, in their own way.

Once they made it into his apartment and he’d given a brief tour, eating up all of Dorcas’ praise at his interior design, the group resigned to his kitchen. Evan somehow learnt mixology, he always did have little side quests, but mixology? So now they were all having pres.

As Regulus downed a straight vodka shot from Barty he winced. How did people actually drink this shit? One thing Regulus could never get addicted to: alcohol. It just reminds him of the smell of the wipes Kreacher used to clean off his blood when he was younger.

“So, where are we going.” Regulus speaks up, it was surprisingly easy to be around his friends again, not as easy as it used to be though.

“Evan found this bar last month, I think we’re gonna start off there.” Pandora states sipping out of a twirly straw. Where did she even get the straw?

Also start off? How drunk did they want him to get, he still had to remain sober enough until at least half-ten to qualify. This night was going to be a disaster from those words alone.

But he needs to stick it out, which is why he says,

“You can all come back here afterwards, if you want.” He shrugs. Underneath those words were questions. Are they strangers now? Do they want to be around Regulus? Has he missed out on too much in the past two years?

Regulus tracks Barty’s eyes moving up towards Dorcas and they have some sort of conversation internally, at least that’s not changed.

“I’m not coming back if Barty or Pandora can’t count to five at the end of the night.” Dorcas sighs in, defeat? Regulus is leaping for the worst and deciding on defeat when she pipes up again, “You know what Regulus, how about we just run off if they get too drunk and hope for the best.”

They’re the same. That smile. The knowing look. It’s all the same.

“Hem hem.” Evan interrupts his arms stretched out artistically, “Dorcas Meadowes, Regulus Black. You would never do that to us, besides it’d be too cliché for Regulus to run off from us again.”

Regulus faux gasps and drops to his knees looking like a reincarnation of the scream painting, “How dare you accuse me of being cliché? I would never! Everrrr! Evan Rosier, you just confirmed it. You’re my least favourite twin.” Regulus finishes his brief monologue by running up to Evan and cradling his face with his own palms.

“I forgot how much of a light weight you are Reg.” Is all Evan responds with, a fond smile etched onto his face.

—

Regulus was drunk. That much was obvious to Dorcas when they stumbled over each others feet to join Pandora dancing in the middle of the room. She was captivating truly. Made purely obvious by the heads turning her way as she spins, no, floats. In circles looking angelic.

Regulus fits right in with her as they both start a routine on the spot and dramatics, that are usually present anyways, get amplified the more eyes that watch them.

Dorcas just smiles from the side, it’s not that she hides away from attention. No, she just appreciates watching people truly in their element. Or maybe it’s just the copious amount of alcohol in her system that has made her feel so poetic.

As she turns her head to check where Barty and Evan have gone on their quote-on-quote ‘smoke break’ her back hits something. Someone.

Dorcas turns around and is met with yet another angel of the night, for this one had red hair and the longest eyelashes. Oh if only she could memorise this moment and use it forever. As she goes to reach out to this phantom the angel smacks her hand back down.

“You could try apologising.” The apparently not-angel yells over the music. Dorcas can’t move, can’t say anything. Every lord above and around, her brain can’t fucking think.

The shorter girl just tilts her head to the side and it’s so unfair. This entire situation is unfair.

“Did you not hear me? God these Londoners are so full of themselves.” She scoffs turning around. No. This can’t end. Not like this, not when Dorcas mistook her for a god damn unearthly creature from above. So Dorcas grabs an arm and flings her back around.

“Dorcas. My name.” This is turning out to be a pile of horse shit apparently. “Yours?” She finishes with a falter. Perfect. Blame it on the alcohol.

The girl squints her eyes in a mix of disgust and confusion, “Lily.”

Oh. What a pretty name. Lily, isn’t that the most perfect thing you’ve every heard. A flower. If Lily was a flower Dorcas would become the earth, the air, sun and rain just in order to keep her happy and safe. Because she’s just so, I mean look at her.

Nevermind, Dorcas can’t look at her. Because Lily’s gone.

—

Regulus awakes with a throbbing headache and a foul smell coming from, well himself actually. He flips over and is met with a body. Oh it’s Pandora. The body is Pandora. That’s good.

As he trails back through his apartment he’s met with with Barty and Evan talking to Kreacher. Why on earth is Kreacher here? He loves the man, don’t get him wrong, but it’s… a time on… a day. Yes. So why is he here?

“No way you’ve never smoked weed Kreacher. Be real to us right now. This is a safe space.” Barty says with a sympathetic expression on his face, not yet noticing Regulus grabbing some water from the fridge.

Kreacher takes notice of it though and he beams at Regulus, “Been out celebrating your qualification Master Regulus.”

He chokes on his water. Shit. How did he forget? How on gods green earth did he fucking forget. The headache. That’s how. Regulus swears he set an alarm last night, in fact he made twenty for every minute leading up to it.

Without speaking a word to the three people in the living area he dashes back to his room sliding through the doorway in his socks.

“Where the fuck is my phone?” Regulus yells tearing his room apart, ignoring the thud of his two friends falling off his bed as he shakes the covers and lifts the mattress.

He starts throwing random items of clothes out of his wardrobe when a hand alerts him back into reality.

“Regulus, you better have a good explanation for throwing me and Dorcas off your bed while unconscious.” Pandora glares, well tries. She never could glare at him fully.

“What do you mean while unconscious, how does that make it any worse?” Dorcas exasperates, huddled in a duvet wrap on the floor.

“No time to explain, my phone?” He’s met with a screen hitting him square on the nose. At least he has his phone. A broken nose doesn’t stop you from winning gold after all.

As he perches on the edge of the bed tapping manically on his phone to get to the ISU website the three from the living room move in.

“Have you qualified then Reg?” Barty says climbing on the bed to sit behind him to look at the screen, the rest following suit, except Kreacher.

He’s about to. As Regulus clicks a bold GO button, he holds his breath. He ran away for this, he’s risked everything he is for this. Lost his own dignity for this moment.

A moment that does change his life.

Error fills up the top of the screen a red triangle flashing at him. What?

Everyone goes still. The air is stale, like it’s been untouched by a living being for centuries. His clothes are rubbing against him, with every rub they shrink to prevent him from breathing.

He can’t see, why can’t he see? A wet droplet rolls down his cheek, oh fuck. He’s crying. He looks in horror at his friends shocked faces and Kreachers pained one.

He needs to leave this room, it’s not good this room. This room is bad for him. For he can’t breathe with the air it’s providing him.

Regulus clutches onto his phone and moves out to the hallway and reads the passage the ISU has sent.

‘Error:

Regulus Black. ID: 72R77A is unable to qualify for the mens singles, free skate and short program at any ISU event.

reason: routine change was unsactioned by judging panel. Further, by choice of skater not coach.’

Dumbledore, not only an inadequate coach, was also a liar.

There’s no coming back from this.

—

Which is something Regulus finds himself repeating to his friends through the bathroom door for the next hour.

That is until he lets them all see the message.

Pandora takes one look at the message and smiles up at Regulus, “You know, you may be banned from the men’s singles Regulus.”

“Yeah thanks for that reminder Dora.” He grunts from his starfish position.

“But, they never said anything about pair skating.”