Word count: 1856

Or five times Regulus and Barty understood one another, and one time Regulus was totally alone

i.

Regulus is not as talented as he would like to be when it comes to brewing potions. Sometimes he wonders if that's his one source of shame, the one reason his mother would not be proud of him. Not that she would ever admit as much, of course. In her eyes, at least he didn't turn out like Sirius; at least he isn't a disappointment to the family.

Still, even Sirius is talented with a cauldron. Regulus, however, barely manages to scrape by with passing marks.

"And we stir just a bit longer," Barty says, though Regulus isn't sure why he feels the need to narrate his every action. Somehow, it's equal parts endearing and annoying, and Regulus has just learned to run with it. "And there we go."

At the moment, Barty is the only reason Regulus is going to pass. He can be as weird as he likes. Regulus doesn't mind one bit.

"That's… Wow."

The potion is perfect, absolutely perfect. The pale purple liquid contrasts nicely with the darkness of the cauldron. Regulus doesn't think he's ever seen anything so lovely before, and it makes his jaw drop. Barty would fit in nicely with the Black family. Well, he would if he wasn't a Ministry brat and the son of that Crouch.

"You are amazing," Regulus says, shaking head, completely awestruck. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

A soft pink stains the other boy's cheeks. Barty looks away quickly, shyly rubbing his palms over his face like it somehow scrub away the blush. "I… No, actually."

That doesn't make sense to Regulus. How could anyone see how brilliant Barty is and not comment on it? It isn't just the potion. Regulus knows that Barty is one of the most talented students at Hogwarts. He wouldn't be surprised if the Ravenclaw eventually became headmaster of the school, or maybe even the Minister of Magic.

"Well that's rubbish," Regulus says with a huff. "I'll make sure to tell you how amazing you are from here on out. Got it?"

Barty opens and closes his mouth several times, seeming to be at a loss for words. Finally, he snaps his mouth shut and nods mutely.

Regulus is supposed to avoid Barty. He remembers his father's warning about how dangerous the family is, how much Crouch Sr hates the Blacks. If his parents ever found he was quickly becoming friends with Barty…

It doesn't matter. They'll never know, and everything will be just fine.

ii.

Normally, Regulus loves Quidditch. It's always been his favorite part of school, as silly as it may sound. There's a sort of freedom that comes with flying, one that nothing else can match.

Today, however, is not his day. It isn't that Hufflepuff is better than them. Truthfully, it's a bit embarrassing that Slytherin is struggling at all. It's just a bad day, and somehow all their training and practice seems to mean nothing. Even if he catches the Snitch, there's no way they can win. Regulus curses under his breath and continues to fly through the air, eyes narrowed, painfully aware of everything happening around him.

Maybe they'll lose, but Regulus refuses to go down without a fight.

…

Barty is practically bouncing when he finds Regulus after the match. "That was absolutely glorious!" he says, excitement heavy in his voice as he adjusts his scarf. "The way you flew! Reg, I've never seen anything like it before in my life!"

"Barty, I lost," he says dryly.

Barty waves a dismissive hand, almost as though that one key detail somehow doesn't matter. "Maybe, maybe. But Reg! You were amazing!" he continues, pulling out a thing of Ice Mice and offering it. "They're your favorite, right?"

Regulus' eyes widen in surprise. He doesn't remember telling anyone that, but Barty is absolutely right. He must have noticed the way Regulus always stocks up during their Hogsmeade visits, like Honeydukes might run out and he'll be without his favorite treat forever.

"I didn't realize you paid such close attention to me."

With that, Barty sputters and stammers awkwardly. Regulus can't help but to laugh. It's honestly sort of cute. "I'm joking, you idiot."

Barty clears his throat, his cheeks burning a bright red. "Right. Yeah, I knew that."

Regulus highly doubts Barty did know, but he doesn't say anything. He just laughs and shrugs. It's nice to have someone like Barty in his life. Sure, his parents have always treated him like he's special, some kind of golden boy, but Barty really makes him feel special. For one brief and shining moment, he thinks that maybe he isn't so bad after all. At least, Barty makes him want to believe.

iii.

It's a beautiful sort of spring day, and the two of them are sitting on a blanket, breathing in the fresh air, a floral scent on the breeze, as they do their homework. Barty always looks so happy when he's surrounded by books. Regulus doesn't know how he does it. While Regulus' marks are mostly high, and he's talented enough to have caught Slughorn's eye, he doesn't have the same passion for academics.

Fighting back a yawn, Regulus scribbles one last sentence on his Charms essay. Charms is one of his best subjects, but he finds the theoretical aspect of it so dull. How Flitwick has devoted his life to every aspect of the subject baffles him.

He'll finish it up later. For now, he has more interesting things to do.

"If I remember correctly," Regulus says, pulling out a bottle of wine he snagged from Slughorn's office, "today is your birthday."

Barty raises his brows, jaw falling slack for several seconds. It seems all he can do, at first, is blink wordlessly. Finally, he nods. "I didn't think anyone would remember," he says. "Well… Mother did, of course. Father… Father probably doesn't even remember he has a son most days, let alone when my birthday is."

That hurts Regulus' heart, but he doesn't know what to say. His own parents always made Regulus' birthday feel like a holiday, like he's someone worth celebrating. How does Barty go about his life without anyone letting him know how wonderful he is.

"Wine?" Regulus asks.

"Are you sure? What if we get caught?"

"Then I'll take the blame and say I've been a very bad boy who has tried to corrupt my dear pet Ravenclaw."

Barty blushes at that. Why does Regulus like that blush so much? It really is quite endearing. "I'm not your pet."

Regulus snorts. "Whatever you say, Crouch. Happy birthday."

The other boy smiles. "Thanks for making it special."

iv.

He doesn't mean for Barty to find out that he's joined the Death Eaters. Regulus isn't ashamed of his choice, per se. He knows, however, that he wouldn't have gone down this road if his family hadn't pushed and pressured him. It isn't his life. It isn't his dream. There's a part of him that wants to make his parents proud, but he doesn't feel the same manic passion over blood supremacy.

"I'm not afraid," Barty says quietly, his eyes still fixed upon the Dark Mark on Regulus' forearm.

Regulus looks up, his eyes meeting Barty's. It isn't the reaction he expected. He can't help but feel like there is something broken inside him, something that nothing and no one can fix. But then Barty looks at him, and there is nothing but kindness and sincerity in his eyes, and it's the first time anyone has really made him feel seen.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Regulus asks, his voice barely audible, only slightly above a whisper and trembling with nerves.

He, of course, knows exactly what it means. It's only a matter of time before the rumors spiral and Crouch Sr hears that first whisper. He can feel it all the way in his soul. This could so easily spell the end for their friendship.

"Yeah. It means you don't have to be alone," Barty answers so easily, like it's the most natural conclusion to come to. "I could join."

"Your father would kill you if he found out."

Barty snorts, eyes rolling. "Then we just have to make sure he doesn't find out."

We. Regulus likes the sound of that. On Barty's tongue, it sounds like a promise, a testament to the strength of their friendship. It is a vow that they can endure anything and everything somehow.

v.

Barty is still trembling when it's over. Regulus doesn't judge him because he knows what it feels like. It's been nearly a year since he's taken the Dark Mark, but he can still feel the agony in his skin. He feels it in his soul. This is a common bond that they share, something that means they can only grow stronger from here.

"To you," Regulus says, lifting his wine glass.

Barty offers him a crooked grin. "No. To us."

And there's that feeling again. No one else in this world understands him the way Barty does, and Regulus is sure that the feeling is mutual. They are made for each other in a way that Regulus cannot understand.

Regulus is popular enough. Others call him charming and charismatic, and they talk about what a lovely fella he is. But they don't see him. Not the way Barty does. Meanwhile, Barty goes through life hidden in his father's shadow. Regulus has seen the way he makes himself smaller, drifting through the corridors like he doesn't want to be noticed.

But Regulus notices him. Regulus sees him.

And now, with the Dark Mark burned into both of their skin, he knows that all they have in this cruel world is one another.

plus one

Regulus knows what he has to do, but Merlin, he is so scared. He fumbles with a cigarette, hand trembling as he lights it.

How can he continue to support the Dark Lord now that he knows what he does? Some might have brushed Kreacher off or simply refused to care. Not Regulus. Maybe Regulus wasn't a Gryffindor like Sirius, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to do what's right.

There's a heavy feeling in his stomach. What's right requires a horrible sacrifice. If his mission doesn't kill him, the Dark Lord surely will.

"Sickle for your thoughts?"

Barty's voice brings him back to the present. Regulus opens his mouth but reconsiders. Barty has become so painfully devoted to the Dark Lord's cause. Truth be told, Regulus doesn't know if Barty had actually cared about blood purity before, but it's become something of an obsession for him now.

How can Regulus explain? Would their bond hold, or would Barty betray him? Regulus isn't sure, but he doesn't want to test that theory.

"Just tired," Regulus says, exhaling a puff of smoke. "It's been a long day."

It shouldn't hurt so much, but it does. Once, it had been him and Barty against the world. Now, for the first time since he was eleven, Regulus feels so alone.