Oh, how he hated the Potters!
It had been decades now since he'd hated the very existence of the Potters!
The first time Regulus had heard of the hated Potters was when he was all of six. One evening when Father had come back from the ministry all red in the face lamenting to Mother, "Oh, how I hate associating myself with those lesser.. ones.." as soon as he had stepped out of the grate, carefully dusting the floo-powder off his pristine clothes, though as far as Regulus could see there wasn't a spec out of place on his father's robes. "That Charlus Potter, I tell you, Walburga, is an absolute wrecker. Refused to give up on that centaur case and had the Wizengamot in session for all of seven hours without so much as a by-your-leave-my-lords!"
Sensing the southward direction of Father's disposition, Regulus had fled the room before being caught in the act of eavesdropping. He liked his bum just fine, having it reddened like Sirius' normally was, was not high on his list, thank you very much.
…
The first time Regulus met a Potter was in those first few carefree hours before sorting while he travelled with his elder brother on the Hogwarts Express. He had been an excited mess of nerves for a week already but Sirius had assured him that if he only asked the sorting hat to place him in Gryffindor, he'd be fine. And despite the castigations that he knew would follow, he had been considering doing just that. He'd be with Sirius, what more could he have asked for?
Yet, as he looked on at his brother, jostling about with Potter while completely ignoring his own flesh and blood, Regulus knew he wasn't strong enough to do it. Sharing a common room with his elder brother while he all but overlooked him, was a punishment he wasn't willing to sentence himself to. So he simply sat by quietly in the loud compartment with his elder brother, his idol, playing mischief with his brother in arms and unflinchingly repeated Slytherin like a mantra as soon he stepped onto the dais for his sorting.
"I hear you, I hear you," the old rag had crowed in his mind and as soon as it had touched his head it had shouted his house out loud.
Regulus had left the stage without chancing a glance at the red and gold table.
…
His years in Hogwarts were a pain simply because his brother and his band of merry vagabonds had intended such. And while Regulus always had a haughty come-back, he had never been able to lash out quite like Sirius had, always leaving him hurt and aching on the inside much more than he could ever hurt on the outside.
Despite it all though, when Sirius lay beaten in their own home, Regulus had smuggled down to their sitting room when no one was around and quietly flooed him out to the Potter Estate, hoping against hope that they'd take care of his brother and nurse him back to health just so he could torture him some more in the coming months when they'd both be back at school.
And it was only when he'd seen Sirius leaning heavily on Potter's arm at the end of the Christmas vacation as they all boarded the train, had he breathed a deep sigh of relief. He hated that Potter a little more that day. For being where Regulus should have been, what doing Regulus should be doing.
But he could not do that anymore. Not publicly. His brother had after all been disowned by their family. So Regulus hid his love and sneered at the pair before boarding the train and walking in the exact opposite direction of the one he knew his brother would take.
…
That hadn't stopped him from contacting Sirius though, when he figured out just what a megalomaniac his parents had signed him off to. He was loathed to go to Dumbledore, but the tiny part in his gut that despite all his fears realized that what he had uncovered might just be the tip of the iceberg and that he'd need many more wands and ears in the right places if this mess was to be sorted out in one go, had urged him forward.
Distrusting his own brother, Sirius had come with Potter in tow and Regulus was past the point of caring that his brother would show such open mistrust towards him; or so he kept telling himself.
And yet Potter and come along with his brother on the day they'd decided to get the locket and they'd both worked seamlessly as a team to pull him out of the inferious waters. Seeing the similar ways their minds worked, simply because they always partnered together, twisted a knife deep in his heart and yet he suppressed his hurt and thanked the two marauders without much zeal.
"One down, Merlin knows how many more to go…" Potter had clapped his back and just like that the trio was formed.
After hearing enough and more about his Severus, Regulus refused to see Dumbledore, making Sirius or Potter the go-betweeners and together the three hunted down the remaining horcruxes. Each instance that he was forced to witness his brother seamlessly working with his blood-brother left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Honestly, where had he gone wrong?
…
And then there was the time little Harry was born!
The war had been over. Fina-fucking-ly! And the world was celebrating. Apparently, for the Potters, celebrations were more of the carnal kind and the after-party synonymous with poppy-nappy-changes!
Well, late nights were late nights, spent dancing or otherwise, he guessed. Who was he to judge?
But every time he saw Sirius bent over the tiny child, cooing in his soft baritone and making plans of a future sprinkled heavily with mischief and mayhem, something in Regulus broke a little more.
He shouldn't be jealous of a child, he knew, but when was the last time Sirius had used that loving tone with him, huh?
…
Regulus had always despised Lily Evans. How no one else but him saw that she was absolutely playing Severus, his one true friend in Slytherin, and Potter against each other was something that eluded him. She craved the attention Potter so unthinkingly showered her with and wanted the honour of being Lady Potter was clear as day for him to see, yet she continued her games with Severus and everyone else thought she was Merlin himself reincarnated!
From Snape to Slughorn, everyone only went gaga over her and Regulus just wanted to shake them all and make them open their eyes to see her for what she was. But Lily Evans was no care of his. As long as she kept her sights on Potter and did not intend to sink her greedy claws into his brother, he was fine.
But with Lily Potter, he just wasn't!
He had gone to the Potter Manor on Lord Potter's behest. Sirius, obviously, was coming in with the Lord himself, both flooing in after their work. And thus, Regulus had reached the venue a few minutes early. Unfortunately for him!
Regulus was perched on the sofa while Lily was chattering non-stop from the open kitchen when a wail had broken through.
"Oh!" Lily had exclaimed, her hands covered in the cake batter she was whisking by hand for some reason. "Could you please check on him, Reg?"
Regulus hated the nick-name he had no idea how he had picked but nodded curtly before moving towards the stairs.
"Oh and Reg," he turned mid-way, "We change him the muggle way. You'll find the wipes and new nappies on the changing table by the corner opposite the window in his room. Thanks again."
Regulus' face had scrunched up and his heart had flipped something funny and he simply repressed all his other memories about that debacle.
Though one thing was confirmed!
He really, really, hated the Potters! All freaking lot of them!
…
Since that fateful day Regulus had made it a point to avoid any and all invites to the Potter home and if he ever had to accept them, he made sure he reached there at the last possible minute and he kept his attendance limited to the very social events that just could not be ignored by the Head of the most Noble House of Black.
Yes, he had reinstated Sirius but his brother had refused to head the family he loathed. "I'm more of a Potter, anyway," Sirius had shrugged and left, with Regulus trying to keep his sanity intact without screaming his fury away into the long dark night.
It was during one such occasion, Harry Potter's seventeenth birthday party, in fact, that the Potters had finally done something right. The act was long overdue anyway, if you asked Regulus.
"Reg," Harry had tapped his shoulder, making him grit his teeth in silent annoyance. "I wanted to introduce you to my best friend. Meet Hermione Granger. She's starting work in the Ministry after graduation." Then Harry had turned to Hermione, "Mione, this is Reg, Regulus Black. He works in the Wizengamot. I'm sure he can guide you around in the Ministry." Then he looked at them both, "Why don't you two chat and I'll be back in a jiffy. Nev is here. Let me just pop in and say hello to him too, yeah?" And with that the birthday boy was gone.
"What does he mean by you work in the Wizengamot?" were her first words ever directed straight to him.
And the rest as they say, was history.
Helping her, befriending her was natural. How could anyone resist an intelligent mind like hers, anyway? Men had fallen to their knees for much less.
But he had persevered. When their occasional lunch run-ins between his sessions had turned into long lunch appointments in the cafeteria that later moved on to lunches outside the Ministry, he had no idea. But there soon came a time when he was literally enduring the week for their bi-weekly luncheons.
And yet he never gave in. She was much too young, though he tended to forget that every time they spoke for her mind and behaviour were far beyond her own small years. But he still only ever held on, never giving in to his need to touch her, to his want to kiss her.
For two freakishly long years!
Until one day Hermione had finally pulled out her reckless Gryffindor side, pulled him inside an alcove within the Ministry itself and kissed the living day lights out of him.
"Oh, fuck it," had been his eloquent response when she'd ended the kiss and stared at him right in his eyes, waiting for his reactions with a guardedly blank face. And then he had proceeded to flatten her back on the wall behind her and showered her delectable mouth with all his pent-up longing.
Two months later they were married.
"And to think it was I who introduced them!" Potter Jr had laughed during his toast at their wedding.
Hmm.. maybe the Potters could do something right every once in while…
Unfortunately though that thought did not last!
…
How could anyone be draped like that over someone else's wife was beyond him. Harry's appearance had become oh-so-common in Regulus' home that he'd once stopped to check the address in the floo book. Had he shifted to the Potter Manor without realising it, he'd wondered. Out loud. Quite a few times. Until Hermione had given him an evil eye.
The next time he had grumbled (and he still completely believed he was within his rights to do so especially because his gorgeous wife had him pinned to the wall and was driving him mad with that little thing she did to him with her tongue), when Harry had popped out of their floo, again, Hermione had thrown him out on the couch for a week and not even finished what she'd started before that unkempt nit-wit had arrived!
Oh, he had hated that particular Potter with a new vengeance!
…
And yet even his abhorrence of Harry Potter had nothing on his hatred of James Potter. The junior one.
"I.. uhm.. wanted to.. to talk to you, Regulus.. I mean.. Sir.. Uhm.. Mister Black.. No!.. Sir.. Yes. I.. uhm.. wanted to talk to you Regulus Black Sir. In private, if you please.."
He wanted to say no. A loud resounding no! But one sharp look from Hermione had him directing the young urchin towards his study, studying him with contempt all the way there.
He knew what this was about. Obviously! He'd have to be blind to not notice the cow eyes the young lad had been making at his daughter since she was born, a mere two years after James, himself. His daughter, the light of his life, the apple of his eyes was born after Merlin had blessed him with two sons, twins in fact. She'd been a surprise yet, a long-awaited gift from the powers all mighty.
Regulus had to be strict with his sons. Maybe not like his father, but they were still scions of the House of Black. His daughter on the other hand was his little doll, his piece of heaven on this undeserving earth. She had been everything any father could ask for and he had loved her since she'd kicked his hand from inside her mother's womb.
And here he was… a thief that wanted to steal what was most precious to Regulus in the whole world!
The two stood facing each other behind the closed library door, and Regulus happily noted he still had a good few inches over the muscled boy. Eh.. professional quidditch could only do so much. Genetics were also needed! Regulus belatedly realised the boy had already spoken. He had to say yes. He knew that. Of course, he knew that. But how he wanted to deny this boy! No one.. Not one was good enough for his precious little princess, least of all a Potter!
But he'd unfortunately also witnessed just how much this boy loved his Zeta and her him. And despite what his father's heart said, he knew he would have to consent.
But he didn't have to make it easy on the lad!
"You hurt her, boy, and I will rip you centimetre by centimetre from waist down and make you watch it as I burn your pieces to ash right in the middle of your bloody Manor."
James, for all his bravado, visibly gulped, nodding his head like a rag doll.
"Glad we understand each other," Regulus said and left the room in a huff. He still had his heart to heal before he faced his family. Crying in front of them like a child just wouldn't do. But what could he do? That boy had just asked to take away a big chunk of his heart…
Sniffling, Regulus rubbed at his eyes hastily when he heard Hermione's soft steps coming towards him.
Of all the Potters he had had to endure in his lifetime, he undoubtedly hated James Potter junior the most.
…
"You realise what this means, don't you?" Hermione, who was cocooned in his arms, both dancing at their daughter's wedding, said softly to him.
Regulus, whose eyes were only following his daughter, least that buffoon she had married drop her while twirling her around in that reckless way he was, shook his head and finally met his partner's eyes. "What?"
"You can never hate a Potter again," Hermione flashed him that naughty smile that had stolen his sleep all those years ago, making Regulus lose his train if thoughts for a moment.
"Huh?" he asked in confusion, his own eyes dancing between hers and her smile.
"The next generation of Potters is going to be half Black. You can't hate your own blood now, can you, Granpa Black?" Hermione winked.
For a second Regulus' mind was addled with all the other thoughts the naughty minx in his arms was putting in his brain but then it all zapped, making him go blank for a few long moments, before everything registered.
The Potters would now be half Blacks! What a nightmare-inducing thought!
But when he held his little granddaughter in his arms for the first time, seeing that typical black mop on her tiny head, the signature brown in her eyes and the slight tan of her skin – all typical Potter traits, loud and clear, he breathed out a soft sigh.
Maybe he didn't need to hate the Potters after all. Maybe if they could scion something as perfect as his little granddaughter, they were an okay sort of bunch.
"Alright, Reggie," Sirius lightly patted his shoulder once to gain his attention but to not startle the little babe in his hands.
Regulus looked up from the newest Potter who had promptly fallen asleep in the secure arms of her Grandpa Black to his brother, same grey eyes like his own meeting his. He nodded. Sirius flashed him the sweetest smile he had ever bestowed upon him, making Regulus' throat tighten with emotion.
"My chance to hold my granddaughter, now," Hermione came up to his other side, taking little Dorea Black-Potter from his arms into hers and she cooed to the sleeping child. "Isn't she perfect, love?" she asked, her eyes misting over. Again, Regulus could only nod, his own eyes not dry anymore.
His gaze quickly flashed across the room. In a corner stood James and Lily, hands held tight as they watched over their grandson and his wife huddled upon one another on the bed. Harry with his wife, Cho, were fussing over the new parents. Slapping backs (in Harry's and James Jr's case) and kissing foreheads (in Cho and Zeta's case). James Jr and Zeta had their own hands locked tightly into each other's and James was ever-so-often kissing his wife, thanking her with so much gratitude after every kiss, one would think she'd just defeated the Dark Lord all by herself with nothing but a sugar quill.
Sirius was stood by his side, shoulders touching in support as if he understood what a profound moment this was for his younger brother. His wife had their granddaughter cocooned in her arms while she herself was settled comfortably in the crook of his. His twin boys, Epsilon & Leonis, were by the door, arranging all the gifts and confectionaries in the way they knew their sister would prefer.
And life, Regulus knew, could not get better.
He thought back to all the times James Sr and Sirius had fought as one, understanding now, that their unique sync had probably saved their lives numerous times. He though back to the moment Harry had introduced Hermione to him, without her by his side, he knew his life would just not have been the same it was now. He had lived a good thirty years without her after all, he knew exactly how and how much her mere presence changed the entire meaning of his life. And the sheer bliss Zeta was radiating, coupled with the love that shone in her eyes for the boy that was kissing her forehead and to clinch it all, the serene half-smile little Dorea was sporting in her sleep…
Maybe he was wrong…
Maybe the Potters weren't all that abhorrent after all…
"Yes, love," he kissed Hermione's head, "Just as you say.. Perfect…"