Chapter Text
One week out from the end of the school year at Hogwarts, Regulus Black was bored and pushing his breakfast around on his plate. Exams had finished and now there was nothing left but to wait on the results and say goodbye to friends he didn’t have. After five years at Hogwarts, Regulus had it down to a science. He got up, ate breakfast at a deserted table, attended classes without ever raising his hand, and studied in a forgotten corner of the library until he physically couldn’t keep his eyes open. More than once, he’d found himself wishing something would come along to shake things up before his brain eroded.
Later, he would regret putting that thought out into the universe.
Before he could finish his tea and drag himself off to Herbology, a Black family owl swooped down over the Slytherin table. Bred specifically for its formidable size and pitch, black feathers, it was a distinctive bird that drew the eye of several students. Most notably, Regulus’ brother’s band of idiots.
“Isn’t that a Black bird?” James Potter asked, loud enough to reach Regulus’ ears clear across the great hall.
“Well done, Prongs, you’re finally learning your colors,” Sirius guffawed, and his entire table joined him, including the butt of the joke, James Potter.
Regulus wasn’t sure he saw the point of friends if they were just going to laugh at you.
Ignoring Sirius’ group, he took the letter from the owl, getting his fingers nipped in the process. He wiped off the blood on his dark trousers before breaking the black, wax seal.
Regulus,
Your father and I will be meeting with a few business partners in France for the next month. I have instructed Kreacher to pick you up from the train station upon the end of term. After that, you are not to leave the house for any reason.
After your father and I return, we will host an important guest at Grimmauld, and you will swear your loyalty to him. Remember that you are to behave as befitting the Black family heir.
I expect to hear that you have received Outstandings in all your subjects.
Walburga Black
Though Regulus usually read through his mother’s missives multiple times for ensured accuracy and compliance, he couldn’t bare it this time. He shoved the letter into his bag, effectively burying it. The words were branded to his mind’s eye anyway.
Important guest…swear your loyalty…I expect…I expect….
His mother’s expectations were like water rising over his head. Pretty soon, he wouldn’t be able to breathe.
When he was able to refocus on his surroundings, he realized that breakfast was almost over and most of the students had vacated the great all. Sirius and his friends still sat around like royalty, however, giggling without a care in the world.
Briefly, Regulus wondered what it would be like to be seated over there with them. To, like Sirius, get to go home to the Potters’, instead of back to Grimmauld where his mother’s anger and father’s indifference waited for him. He thought it’d probably be nice.
But wondering and wishing wasn’t going to get him an O in Herbology, so he headed off towards the greenhouses without another glance at the Gryffindor table.
_____
Once he’d been released from the prison of classes for the day, Regulus made a bee-line for the library. He’d had a bit of time to mull over his mother’s letter and thought he had a solution. There was no way he could stand up to his mother without ending up dead or worse. But what if the Dark Lord couldn’t induct him as a Death Eater? He’d absolutely be punished within an inch of his life but he might get to keep said life.
Although, whether that was a like worth keeping was still to be decided.
Putting off Hamlet’s famous question for another day, he walked over to the Defense Against the Dark Arts section and grabbed every book off the shelf that mentioned warding and magic brands. He ended up with a stack that he almost couldn’t see over as he struggled over to an empty table.
“Tell me you’re not going to try and read all of that, Reggie,” an annoyingly familiar voice said behind him.
Whirling around, Regulus stepped in front of his pile of books, hoping he was obscuring the titles from nosy, Gryffindor eyes.
James Potter, with his adorably messy hair and thick glasses, leaned against a bookshelf and grinned at Regulus Black like they were old friends. To be fair, Regulus was pretty sure that in James’ mind, they were. Unlike his brother, who has been pretending Regulus doesn’t exist since he ran away last summer, James likes to pop into the Slytherin’s life periodically, pester him, and then pop back out for a few weeks.
The time in between pesterings was never long enough for Regulus to get over the mortifying crush he’d had on the Potter heir since third year. Luckily, he’s the only one who knows his shame, and he’ll take that secret to the grave.
“I know you’re illiterate, Potter, but those of us who can read sometimes enjoy doing it,” Regulus said, sending a scathing look at the older boy.
“You’re so mean to me, Reggie.”
Why did James sound practically gleeful as he said that?
“Feel free to never darken my doorstep again, then.”
Instead of leaving, however, James’ mirrored Regulus as the younger boy sat down at the table. He watched as the Slytherin opened the first book on the pile and chattered on about his week and professional Quidditch.
For the most part, Regulus tuned the Gryffindor out and focused on the book about removing magic signatures from witches and wizards. It wasn’t exactly what he was looking for; he’d rather not be branded with the dark mark in the first place, but he took notes on the contents never-the-less.
Regulus was about three books into the stack when James’ blabbering stopped, causing the Slytherin to look up from his meticulous notes.
“Well,” James said, reaching out and slamming Regulus’ book shut. “I’ve got Quidditch practice.”
Regulus raised his eyebrows at the action and swatted the Gryffindor’s hand away from the book. “Why does that mean I have to stop reading?”
For the first time that afternoon, James’ expression grew serious. “Those dark circles under your eyes are starting to look permanent.”
“You really know how to flatter a guy,” Regulus drawled.
James nodded. “I’m a charming man,” he said. “Take a break. Take a nap.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Pretty please?” James batted his eyelashes like an idiot, giving Regulus heart palpitations. “For me?”
“I’d rather drown myself in the Black Lake.”
“Great, I knew you’d come around,” he said like he’d won the argument.
But maybe he had won because Regulus didn’t fight the other boy as he helped him pack up his bounty of books and notes.
Once they were both standing, James reached out and ruffled Regulus’ hair, then skipped out of range before he could get hit or hexed. “See you around, Reg.”
“Don’t threaten me.”
James laughed, loud and bold like he had during breakfast that morning, and then he was gone. The warmth he’d brought with him faded by the time Regulus had walked back to the dungeons.
Feeling bone-tired, he nodded at Crouch and Rosier before crawling into his bed. From behind the curtains, he could hear them whispering about a rising Dark Lord and the wonderful changes he would bring.
Regulus cast a quick silencing charm. He didn’t need to hear trash when he was trying to sleep.
_____
Most of the time, Regulus really enjoyed being in Slytherin. He liked being surrounded by cunning people, his favorite color was green, and he enjoyed the privacy afforded by living in the dungeons.
Unfortunately, being in Slytherin also meant dealing with toe-rags like Severus Snape.
“Black,” Snape said as he fell into the green, leather chair across from Regulus. His mouth was turned up in a slight sneer like he was extra satisfied with himself.
Regulus took and breath and let the quiet roar of the common room fireplace soothe him before he responded. “Bother someone else, Snape.”
Maybe he should have taken two calming breaths.
“Guess you don’t want to hear what I have to tell you,” Snape said, mocking.
“Not especially.”
A slow grin overtook Snape’s expression. “Even if it’s about your brother?”
It took effort to keep his poker face intact. “What about my brother?” Regulus asked.
“I’ve decided to put an end to our little back and forth,” Snape said. “So I’ve left him tied up in the Shrieking Shack. There’s an entrance under the Whomping Willow. Full moon, right next to the Forbidden forest. No telling what might befall him before sunrise.” The older boy smirked. “Chin up, Black. By morning, you’ll officially be an only child.”
Regulus knew there weren’t really werewolves in the Forbidden Forest. Even Dumbledore wouldn’t be so careless with students’ safety. Still, the idea of Sirius alone in that creepy building, helpless….
But he wasn’t about to let Snape in on his moral dilemma.
“I’ve been an only child since my parents’ disowned that blood traitor,” Regulus said cooly. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my book.”
Snape shrugged, but he still look far too gleeful for Regulus’ taste. “Suit yourself,” he said, and then took off towards the dormitories.
Regulus tried to settle back into the chair and focus on his reading. When he couldn’t manage that, he tried to think of all the horrible things Sirius had ever done to him. Abandoned him. Ignored him. Stole his dragon stuffy when they were six.
After all that, so what if Sirius was in trouble? Regulus didn’t care. He’d already sacrificed his entire future for Sirius’. He was going to take everything their parents threw at him for the rest of his life, including the dark mark, for Sirius. At what point were they even for all the times Sirius had protected him as children?
Never, Regulus thought bitterly, as he rose from his chair and headed out toward the grounds.