Note: Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments).
Applicable Challenges:
Prompt of the Day, Day 10: (pairing) Regulus Black/Barty Crouch Jr.
Writing Club, Ami's Audio Admirations - Why am I listening to this show? (Write about someone questioning something)
Writing Club, Amber's Attic - Regulus Black/Barty Crouch Jr.
Writing Club, Emy's Emporium, Spain - Write a fic that takes place at night
365 Day Challenge - 209. (plot point) an almost kiss
Insane House Challenge - 536. (plot point) an almost kiss
Hogwarts Northern Funfair, Sophie's Ice Cream - Black Cherry (Regulus Black)/Liquorice (Barty Crouch Jr.)
Hogwarts Southern Funfair, Henna Tattoo Booth - (word) glorious, (word) paradise, (color) silver
Hogwarts Eastern Funfair, Penny Slot Machine - Regulus, (word) magnificent, (word) marked
Seasonal Summer Challenges, Elemental, Fire Element, Sagittarius - (pairing) Regulus Black/Barty Crouch Jr.
Seasonal Summer Challenges, Shay's Musical Challenge, Les Mis - Write about students fighting a war
Seasonal Summer Challenges, Days of the Year, World Snake Day -Write about your favourite Slytherin character.
the silver-forked sky lit you up like a star
From wall to wall, from nook to cranny, the room was teaming with the gentle roar of polite conversation, and though Regulus stood just adjacent to the chattering of his peers, he might've been swallowed by some muffling, pressurised bubble for all the conversation he had followed. His head had been throbbing for at least a half-hour - though he had yet to admit as much, hoping it would fade by force of will - and it took more concentration than usual to tip an occasional nod.
They spoke of the last Hogsmeade trip taken before the holidays: how beautiful the snow had been and how Greengrass-the-younger's new girlfriend had finally lured him into Madam Puddifoot's after two consecutive failed attempts. Talking about his peers' romantic dalliances had never been interesting on the best of days, but the haze thickening in his mind had grown more distracting still since his training session with Bellatrix the day before, so attention was more scarce than usual.
"You are marked now," she had said with a measure of pride, her eyes flashing the same color as the display of decorative blades in the Lestranges' private library: dark silver, more matte than shiny, but perilously sharp by the look of it. "Ours is a glorious task, and it is with pride befitting of our blood that we will cleanse the wizarding world of its disease."
They had turned their wands on a rabbit, last night - Bellatrix, Barty, and himself - and though it had survived to thump about for another day, Regulus could still feel the bile burning at the back of his throat when he remembered the way its ears had twitched. Bella had not come to the Travers' gathering, but he could still feel the chill of her shadow of his shoulder, pooling between his and Barty's.
"Are you alright?" Regulus had nearly missed the question entirely, but the owner of the voice - a girl in his year, Seraphina, and among the hosts this evening - but she leaned her face in front of him with an inquisitive look.
Pulling back from her face, he shifted an automatic dodge as her hand reached to brush his arm; though her frown deepened, some of the stiffness faded from his frame. Regulus had scarcely begun his nod when, in the polished chrome surfaces of the Travers' decor, he saw Barty's reflection wandering over with a certain measure of purpose, and what tension remain loosened even further. As it turned out, that purpose was not so far off from his own: when Barty's hand clasped his shoulder with a confidence born of familiarity, Regulus turned his head to see his friend was looking at him.
"Would you care for some fresh air?" Barty asked, knowing that the answer would be yes, and naturally, it was.
Regulus leveled what he hoped was a sufficiently apologetic look, however privately grateful he might feel to escape the suffocating conversation about the mundane issues he probably ought to be worried about, rather than the buddy anxiety of when Bella would expect them to graduate from woodland creatures to more human-shaped targets.
"Secret chatter, is it?" Sera said, though she did look a bit disappointed.
"As ever," Barty replied.
"No studying allowed," Evan said, pointing between them. "Neither of you. As a friendly reminder, you still have an entire year before your NEWTs."
"Consider it noted," Regulus said with a nod; vague though the fresh air might be, it was too dark for any manner of studying unless they created their own light, which was hardly the efficient approach. "If you'll excuse us…"
Within a few strides, they had broken away from the group, and the entrance was just down the hall from the bulk of the gathering.
"The sky is lovely tonight," Barty said as they wrapped the scarves thickly around their necks and slipped out into the nippy night, "more so than the Travers' silver, I'd say."
"Cloudy, though," Regulus commented as Barty gave his scarf a light tug. "Did you just get here?"
"Mother isn't feeling well, but Winky is tending to her now." A flicker of concern split through the blue of Barty's eyes, but his friend did not elaborate on it, so Regulus supposed it mustn't have been a more serious spell. "You didn't look like you were feeling particularly well, either."
"I keep thinking about that rabbit," Regulus admitted, though the words felt immediately embarrassing, the moment they passed his lips. In turn, his headache have the side of his skull a solid thunk of its own, as if to make sure he had not forgotten. "I know what we're learning is important-"
"I'm not going to tattle to your cousin." Barty nudged against Regulus's shoulder. "She's magnificent, as far as her proficiencies go, and one cannot help but admire the strength of her passions, but I'm a bit fond of you too." A little smile flicked at the corner of his mouth.
"Don't want me to end up a smear on the Lestranges' hardwood floor?" Regulus quipped, though it did not feel as much like a jest as he wished. "I appreciate that."
"No one's smearing you anywhere, even if you're a bit soft for the rabbit."
"If you tell the others, I'm going to be really cross, you know."
"Cross a Black? I hear you all hold a mean grudge." Playfully, Barty bumped his shoulder again, but a chilly gust blew past as they slipped into the Travers' garden, and Barty seemed to decide that keeping their shoulders pressed was the warmer option.
"You heard right," Regulus said dryly, shaking his head. "I just feel strange about it - more so than I expected, I suppose. It's probably supposed to be some metaphor referencing the animalistic muggles, but the rabbit isn't going around stealing magic or anything of the sort."
"Probably," Barty agreed, "and what a paradise it will be when this war is over, and we don't have to kick around the animals anymore, whether real or metaphorical."
Regulus nodded, eyes flicking up at a spindly flash of light, followed by a booming crack. "I was going to say your earlier assessment of the sky was a bit misguided when I don't see a single star up there, but I suppose you meant the lightning?"
"They have been pretty elaborately webbed, as far as lightning typically goes," Barty commented. "But dry, as a bonus."
"I can agree with that. It's too cold for rain."
"But easier to breathe," Barty commented, perhaps so that Regulus didn't have to. Coming to a stone-backed bench nestled up against a hedge, Barty tugged him down to sit. The night sky was a mix of grey and navy and flecks of silver when the moon peeked out, and as they settled, it was peeking down with a crooked smile. Regulus was watching a cloud smother the bottom of that smile as Barty continued, "So...Sera?"
"What about her?" Regulus asked, glancing over with his eyebrows raised.
Crinkling his nose, Barty shook his head then. "Nothing. She was just a bit..."
Regulus shrugged.
"I've just been thinking about it, I suppose, since Parkinson got married. When do you think you will? Get married, that is."
The question hung in the air for a silent moment as Regulus lifting his eyes to the sky, but even as he forced himself to respond, he felt no more certain about the answer.
"I don't know," Regulus admitted, anticlimactic though it was, following the pause. "Nothing new to report on that front. I suppose it is most logical to marry sooner rather than later, with the war as it is. Our line is dwindling." The words sounded distant, measured in reason and foregone conclusions, and next to him, he felt the brush of an elbow as Barty shifted. Without breaking his gaze towards the sky, Regulus leaned back against the stone.
"That's very responsible," Barty said, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Barty was watching him. "Do you have your eye on anyone in particular?"
Regulus shifted under the gaze, and though the lovely and mostly agreeable faces of any number of pureblood girls flickered in his mind, one after another, he felt no enthusiasm at the thought. Perhaps that was strange - perhaps the mere sight of his lady classmates in their skirts ought to be a thrill, but skirts seemed such a petty thing to base one's affection on.
"It sounds terrible to say, but honestly, sometimes I feel like it hardly matters, so long as she's pureblood and not of questionable allegiances," Regulus admitted, and it was then that he felt his friend's shoulder bump.
"You shouldn't marry Sera," Barty said with a certain matter-of-factness.
Quirking an eyebrow, Regulus glanced over at him again. "Why not? What's wrong with Sera?"
"She's too agreeable," Barty said blithely, and Regulus eyebrow lifted further, "You have to marry someone awful so you can spend all of your time with me instead."
With a scarcely stifled snort, Regulus shook his head. "I don't need a disagreeable wife for that. I would rather spend all of my time with you anyway."
There was something bright and intense in the blue of Barty's eyes when he smiled, like a blinding glint flashing over the water's surface, and Regulus felt the subtlest tug at the corner of his mouth, fighting what was certain to be a ridiculous smile if it were to escape.
"Good. I wouldn't want to tear you away from a preferred conversation," Barty said, inclining his head toward the party.
Regulus shrugged. "The conversation was not bad, but I would not call it preferred," he responded. "Honestly, I've had a headache for at least a half-hour, so this is lovely. The chill helps."
Barty held out his hands, palms open to the sky. "Give me your head."
"It doesn't hurt enough to lop it off."
"Not what I meant," Barty said with a snigger, gesturing with his hand. Wordlessly, Regulus shifted his back towards Barty and tucked up a leg. "My fingers have magical healing properties."
"Do they now?" Amused skepticism coloured Regulus's tone as he shook his head.
"Your doubt is evident, but you will see."
A tiny shiver crawled over his skin as Barty fingers tangled in his hair, scratching at the scalp; embarrassed, Regulus masked the shiver with another shift, but Barty didn't seem to notice either way. "Who do you think you will marry?"
"Some pureblood girl or another, I expect," Barty said noncommittally, digging his fingers in a line to Regulus's temple, ruffling the hair. "I share your sentiment on the matter. Necessary though it might be, the details are not really of consequence, in the end."
"With the way you brought it up, I expected a more definitive answer," Regulus admitted, though he couldn't say he didn't prefer things as they were.
"No… I was just wondering," Barty said, pressing a thumb along his hairline, and although Regulus was sure there were some medicinal potions he could ask for to calm the thump in his temple, he had to admit it was helping at least temporarily. Healing was probably an exaggeration, but it felt relaxing, nonetheless. Tucking a leg under himself on the bench, Barty shifted the conversation. "What would you want to do, when all of this is behind us?"
"I don't know," Regulus admitted, eyes closing as he took in a breath and released it again. For all his love for planning, it was strange to imagine a time when the muggle-lovers were subdued to the degree that everyone could step down and live a properly calm life.
"We will be war heroes by then, you know. Living in a muggle free world, or at least one where they know their place," Barty said with a smile in his voice, digging the pads of his thumbs along the base of Regulus's skull.
Another tingle slithered along the path of his friend's fingers, and Regulus nodded. "That sounds nice."
"It will be," Barty agreed. "Turn around."
As Regulus shifted, their knees knocked, and he felt (soon saw) Barty smooth the bits of his hair that must have fluffed.
"Better?" Barty asked.
Regulus still had a little headache, but that didn't seem particularly important. Instead, he nodded. For a moment, Barty didn't shift back, and Regulus felt his heart start to patter in his chest, punctuated with the embarrassing thought that he wished Barty was still rubbing away the headache, or smoothing out disruptions in his hair, and the press of his knee was the sort of preoccupying that he didn't feel compelled to pull away from. (Apparently, neither did Barty, who's leg seemed frozen in its tuck.)
Barty was shifting forward when the sky cracked above them, a split of light brightening his face. There was something in his friend's expression that made Regulus's stomach twist, but in a pleasant way this time, smothering the previous night's borderline nausea.
The roll of thunder to follow seemed to press Barty back a few inches, but his knee didn't budge, and silly though it was, Regulus almost felt as if the tiniest contact was propping him up.
"Better."