The distance they wore in their words spoke louder. Slick, and harsh for Regulus Black. Formal but still flowery for Pandora. In a way, that suited them fine; it had made it easier to distance themselves from what they accidentally created between them. Unintentional friendships were like that.
For a Ravenclaw and Slytherin to bond it had required certain criteria. (It had explained why certain clicks worked and why others didn't.) Regulus and Pandora explained it when they ushered quiet hours and standoffs in emptier hallways. They each had their prescriptions of socialization and other duller requirements of being passable acquaintances. It had started slow.
Like the seasons interchanging from a cycle.
He hadn't been the first to talk. It actually had been her, Pandora, a lovely witch that had a grey core. With her witty nature she made a great addition towards her house. Back then when he had been younger and still working on his image she had worked the courage to talk to him. In an off day he humored her. And since then, he almost couldn't stop himself in humoring her again and again until it became a routine to spend time with her.
While Regulus had been a proper dark wizard with his legacy and carefully tailored personas, Pandora had still somehow saw what he kept away. A shard he once shown him. However, there had been differences.
The kinds that made him wary of how much he showed to her. Eventually, she accepted that fact. Their unusual hours of keeping company made him almost feel free. That became dangerous; but that had been the addicting temptation he almost wanted to selfishly defend until the end. Of every hour he spent with her it made it harder to go back to his mask he had been forced to create. To pretend that she didn't have the capacity to make him feel like how his blood-traitor brother kept him safe from their mother's wrath in the past.
Regulus had once been tempted to flee; but now with a couple of years under his belt in Hogwarts and as the heir (since he lost a brother) he saw how nearly impossible it was to live a long life. Regardless of happiness and health a war was bundled and wrapped by his shoulders. His Slytherin housemates and few other classmates from other houses that aligned in their beliefs with them all knew of the darkness that supplied their future endeavors.
There would be few survivors.
And as the clocked ticked, Regulus saw that Pandora would choose differently than his family. He had heard of her friendship with a fellow Ravenclaw housemate, Xenophilius Lovegood. Their closeness had made Regulus lash out a few times when he was alone. He never did tell her to stop talking to her housemate, he had known that he lost in more ways than she did. Had it not been for his obligations to be the heir and follow what his parents wanted... Regulus may have picked a different route.
But that had been the issue. He had listened to his parents, to his mother especially when she arranged his whole life. He hadn't ever found the words his brother said first; he just took it all in. For the sake of his family, for the traditions they had hallowed in his being since he left. Regulus proved that he did not want to disappoint his mother more than he did.
It hadn't been surprising that Pandora comforted him when the darkness sunken his bones.
With her silly experiments and lovely hums she made the world almost seem bright. As if, a war hadn't been in the midst. Inside the walls of Hogwarts it almost felt like it could have been fine. Like he had not been Regulus Black. But just simply, Regulus. A boy that loved magic.
Yet, it had been his name that damned him.
And Pandora...she crossed an ocean—while Regulus stayed by the edges of a metaphorical cliff that stranded him. They may have had afternoons together but the distance that adolescence could only create with every year that passed them made him see his weakness blooming. Festering. And that had displeased him that Pandora accepted it, how his emotions mourned and chaotically whipped when he laid on his bed. Her smile had hinted of answers.
But when he asked she only danced around him. For three days she mocked him with her sweet lips and cryptic hints. On the fourth she peered at his sullen mood before she kissed him kindly, slowly, and full of acceptance.
Neither said anything else because it all had been said when he didn't push her away.
The short bliss of her love made it almost seem like he could face his future. His allies all suspected something was amiss, whereas, his brother (who he still had wanted to hate and discard but could never) was the same when he stalked a few of his meetings with Pandora. The attention hadn't helped him cope with the way his life drove in circles. He never gave him the full satisfaction of seeing Regulus with Pandora.
(Though that didn't mean he didn't notice the Gryffindor's expression turning murky and curious when he passed hallways. Or when he glanced at Pandora too with the same tone. It made him suspicious and worried that if he said anything, then everybody else would see too.)
Their meetings were the only fragments that helped Regulus keep his sanity. Lately, something stirred when he stayed in his common room. And before he could completely understand the feelings it vanished.
One kiss, two kisses stolen and soon Regulus found that something had indeed been undone.
It had been his pride.
Then, they slowly started talking less often.
He had been the first to bring up the barriers again, the first to snap in arguments and the one that stopped going to their meetings. And Pandora—she understood what he said behind his actions. She left him alone when he had been marked.
He had thought he knew what he wanted.
Obviously, he hadn't when his brother left and joined the other side officially. When the mark and being his mother's prized son didn't bring him any joys. Or when Pandora made her introduction of her political views as anything but neutral like she had used to be. He blamed the world, the unworthy, and his naviness from loving her.
Neither Regulus nor Pandora spoke again when they made their choices. And that had been fine (for a while), Regulus stayed strong between those months. When he lingered with his allies he saw it: the false happiness he once wanted. Of the power and influence he could have inherited and Pandora by his side. That had been childish. To believe she would have ever denounce her previous statements. (But he had wished it from within.)
The next time he heard her voice he didn't search her out from the crowds. He gutted his memories as he walked away. And when the day came when he saw what the Dark Lord truly was he almost felt cheated. For all the days he could of have—of the people he could have been with he gritted his teeth and plotted. With Kreacher he did the best he could have with the time and limited resources; but he had known that his mistakes and sins overweight his cry for redemption.
In the face of death he thought back of Sirius, the brother that had loved him in the beginning but then left, to then of Pandora—the girl that had once accepted him before he chose wrong again. Life had truly tested him; and by the end he lost. Both chances of ever finding an ending he felt satisfied.
But as long as he foiled the Dark Lord in some way, Regulus swallowed his pride and acknowledged the conclusion of his last actions in the world. If, it meant Sirius's side would have an upper hand then that was okay. Especially if it meant Pandora's future would enfold into peace then he would sacrifice himself for her—them; the two people that had loved him.
Kreacher would forgive him one day too for his choices and for figuring out what he had wanted at such an ill-timely manner. He just prayed that his plan would be sufficient. And that maybe the next lifetime he would be able to apologize properly with better choices and the openness to love wholeheartedly.