Author's Note: Shoutout to ChimericalParoxysm and Elensule for the reviews!
We've finally got our happy ending... sort of. This is the final Severus/Regulus scene, but there will be two epilogues. Surprise!
Revelation
Regulus sits in the kitchen at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, in his usual chair, staring dry-eyed at the grain of the wood. It seems empty here without Sirius. Only a few days ago it was normal: the two of them sitting right here at this table and laughing hysterically over things that weren't really all that funny, because sometimes they just needed the release.
Now Sirius is in Azkaban. He wasn't the spy, he was never the spy, but they arrested him anyway for murdering Peter Pettigrew. The really ironic thing is that Regulus, the real criminal, didn't actually succeed. Rat Animagi can be extremely hard to catch.
And Sirius went to Azkaban instead of him. Because you might have a chance at something out here, he said. James and his wife are dead, their son missing even as his name is hailed across the country. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Sirius would have liked to take care of Harry, his best friend's son, but there was too much suspicion on him; it would never have worked.
There is still too much suspicion on him. Regulus sighs and rests his head against his arms, as he's done so many times before at this table, in this chair. Where do I go from here?
"Master Regulus," says Kreacher's voice from somewhere outside the kitchen, "there is someone at the door."
"Tell them to go away," Regulus mutters without looking up.
"He is insisting, sir! He is almost breaking the door down!"
The note of panic in Kreacher's voice doesn't go unnoticed by Regulus as he stands up with a groan. Perhaps it's the threat to the integrity of the house, not that it's possible to break down a door so heavily reinforced with magic, but he suspects Kreacher is more concerned about the threat to Regulus. They've always had a good relationship.
Regulus makes his way to the entrance hall, ignoring the muttering of the portraits around him. For a moment he almost hopes that it's Sirius trying so desperately to get inside, but the logical part of his brain points out that Sirius is nowhere near London.
When he opens the door, his heart nearly stops beating.
"S-Severus?" he whispers, eyes wide.
Severus's hand is raised to pound on the door again, but at the sound of Regulus's voice he pauses, fist still in the air. He looks like he's just been to hell and back. Perhaps he was forced to spend time with the dementors during a trial. His status as a Death Eater was never questioned the way Regulus's was.
"Regulus," he says, and there's an odd quality to his voice, something in between desperation and relief. He slowly lowers his hand, eyes never leaving Regulus's stricken face.
"What are you – well, come in," says Regulus, stepping aside to avoid the fire of Severus's gaze. When he was younger, he could have let Severus stare at him forever and been thrilled, but he's changed. There is something sinister about those dark eyes; he's almost certain Severus knew a limited amount of Legilimency by the time they started their affair, and he's spent far too much time dealing with that from the Dark Lord.
Severus steps over the threshold, letting the door close softly behind him. "You were going to ask what I am doing here," he says quietly.
Regulus keeps his eyes averted from the other man. "Yes. I seem to remember you rejecting me quite thoroughly at one point."
"I thought…" Severus hesitates. His eyes are darting around, resting briefly on Regulus's face before glancing over the portraits. "I made some assumptions. I'm no longer certain they were accurate."
"Do go on."
"I thought it was your masochistic tendencies that drew you to me. I did not believe you were… genuinely interested."
"That's funny, because I might have said the same thing about you," says Regulus. His lips are drawn into a thin line. "Though I'd replace 'masochistic' with 'sadistic,' in your case."
Severus shakes his head. Regulus leans against the wall and meets Severus's eyes, preparing his Occlumency shields, but nothing recognizable happens. Instead, he notices that Severus is trembling a little.
"I was not… I thought you wanted to be taken advantage of," says Severus. A hint of that tremor is in his voice now.
"I was madly in love with you. I couldn't have cared less what you did to me, as long as it was you who was doing it." Regulus folds his arms, eyes not leaving Severus's.
"Madly…?" Severus takes a moment to process this, his lips moving soundlessly. His eyes drift toward the portraits again, but soon snap back to Regulus. "And now?"
Regulus scowls. "Now my brother is in Azkaban for a crime I didn't even commit. I've tortured my allies and murdered my friends." He's still bitter about Evan Rosier. "I doubt I'm capable of anything like love anymore."
Severus stares unblinkingly at him for a moment. "That's absurd," he says at last.
"Pardon?"
"You must be capable of love if you're so upset about Sirius sacrificing himself for you."
"That's not the same kind of love," Regulus snaps.
"Isn't it?" Severus's eyes are burning now, but Regulus can't look away. "The lack of a sexual component is a superficial difference at best. The foundational properties are the same. Compassion. The fear of… of losing him."
His voice breaks, and Regulus finally makes the connection. The revelation is astounding.
"Are we discussing me, or you?"
He vaguely remembers thinking that Severus knew nothing of love, but that memory seems so distant when he's faced with the man himself. Severus looks like he's about to fall to pieces.
"We are discussing love," says Severus, his voice sounding choked.
Regulus is still dry-eyed. He supposes his tears have all been shed long ago. But Severus has probably been bottling it up for too long, and his eyes are starting to leak. Regulus steps forward and holds out his hands.
"Right, love then," he says, his voice gently teasing. "Maybe you should sit down before you fall over. I could take you to the kitchen." He gestures grandly in its direction.
Severus looks at him strangely. "You've been spending too much time with Sirius."
Regulus laughs, and then keeps laughing, because he just can't stop. Eventually the laughing turns to coughing, and he finds himself half supporting, half being supported by Severus, who is genuinely crying now, tears streaming down his face and dripping off his chin. Regulus forces himself to breathe deeply until the coughing stops, but he can't stop shaking.
"So, Death Eating," he jokes. "Not the greatest profession. I'm thinking I'll take up Quidditch again."
Severus gives a weak chuckle. "Better you than me."
They're wobbling dangerously. Regulus decides that there's no way they're moving to the kitchen at this point, so he settles for lowering them both to the floor. He curls himself around Severus, cradling the other man in his arms and pressing a kiss to his hair.
"Professor Dumbledore offered me a job at Hogwarts," Severus whispers into his chest.
"Are you going to take it?"
"I was thinking of opening a shop. Sell potions to people too lazy to do it themselves."
Regulus smiles as he rests his cheek against Severus's head. "You'd make a terrible teacher anyway. The students would be terrified of you."
"Is that what you think?"
"Well, I certainly was."
Severus tries to cover a snort by clearing his throat. "I was just trying to be dramatic."
"You succeeded." Regulus sighs and cups Severus's chin in his hand. "What do we do now?"
"A bed might be nice." Severus pauses and meets Regulus's eyes. "If you've got a spare."
"I don't need a spare, not for you," says Regulus softly.
They stare at each other for a long moment. Regulus finally bends down to kiss Severus, cautious but tender. He pulls away almost immediately.
"Don't," Severus murmurs, and drags him back. This time the kiss is both awkward and passionate, and Regulus feels some of the longing he'd buried deep within rise to the surface again. When Severus opens his mouth desperately, Regulus doesn't hesitate with his tongue. It's different from every other time, because Regulus is leading, but the difference is superficial at best.
They separate only after several long minutes. Severus is panting, his head resting against Regulus's shoulder.
"Never would have predicted this," Regulus murmurs.
"I'm unpredictable." Severus's words are muffled by Regulus's neck.
Regulus chuckles lightly. "Let's go find that bed," he whispers, and he helps Severus to his feet. "It's been a long time coming."
