Chapter 2: Amortentia
Notes:
TW for this chapter
Discussion / mentions of homophobia
Insomnia
Mentions of bullying
Swearing!
I think that's it, but if I left anything out feel free to let me know!
Enjoy :)
Chapter Text
Regulus can't sleep.
This is annoying because sleep is actually quite important. This is one of the things he's discovered this summer. If he's going to carry out his plans and get his revenge, he needs to be as strong as possible. Not just physically, but mentally as well. To this end, he's been devoting himself to a strict exercise routine that his mother believes is solely to help him win the Quidditch Cup for Slytherin. For once, she approves. It's such a strange feeling Regulus prefers not to acknowledge it at all. He's also been eating every meal Kreacher has made for him, which has the added benefit of making his house elf very happy. And, most importantly, Regulus has been sleeping.
Some nights more successfully than others, but he's been trying.
He turns in his bed, groaning into his pillow in frustration. It's not the end of the world if he has a bad night, but there's little to do in the castle. And he didn't bring any cigarettes with him so sneaking out to the astronomy tower to smoke isn't an option. Besides, he can't be caught out past curfew—detentions are not a good use of his time, so he'll avoid them. And his dorm isn't exactly conducive to late night entertainment. Barty and Evan are passed out cold, snoring in their beds. Edward Selwyn is awake, reading behind his curtains but Regulus doesn't like Edward.
He lays there for a little while, quiet in his bed, contemplating. He thinks of his summer. Early mornings running through the grounds of their summer manor out in the countryside. The days slipping away as he tore through his family's library, reading every book on the Dark Arts he could find. He thinks of the evenings, sat on the rooftop on his own with a pack of muggle cigarettes and no one but the stars for company. Thinks of the meetings happening downstairs. People in dark cloaks and strange masks coming and going. Of the voices discussing plans that would make any non-broken person's toes curl in their shoes.
Soon, Regulus' voice will add to those. He'll whisper in corners, hide in shadows. Do what must be done for the betterment of the world.
He will get his revenge.
Not tonight, though. Tonight, he's just a student with an insomnia problem getting bored out of his mind.
He slips away from his dorm in silence and pads down the stairs to the common room. It's deserted, which isn't unusual this late at night. It's one in the morning and the only light is from the windows facing the lake. Everything is a dark, glowing green that Regulus finds kind of peaceful. Not that he'd ever say that out loud to anybody.
Just as his back hits the couch, the door to the common room swings open and Dorcas stumbles inside with a grin on her lips. It strains and disappears as soon as her eyes meet Regulus'.
"What are you doing here?" She asks.
Regulus raises an eyebrow.
Dorcas sighs. "I'm not telling you where I was. It's none of your business."
He tilts his head to the side, dark curls bouncing. "I didn't ask."
Regulus likes Dorcas as much as he can like anyone. She's a good friend. A little ruthless, which he appreciates. She's brave enough to have been a Gryffindor if not for her cunning mind.
She hesitates for a moment before plopping down on the sofa next to Regulus. "Can't sleep?"
"No." No point in denying the obvious. And he could do a lot worse than Dorcas for a late night chat. Barty would be too loud and obnoxious. Evan would simply not be awake. Ever. Under any circumstance. And Pandora lives in the Ravenclaw tower so she's not an option. Regulus doesn't have any other friends. He doesn't want or need them.
The only reason he has these in the first place is that he met them before his heart froze. Before the cold seeped into every bone in his body, tattooing pain and rage into his marrow.
"What's bothering you?" Dorcas asks. There's an edge to her voice, like she's trying to control the conversation.
Regulus lets his head fall back on the sofa, eyes trained on the ceiling. "Nothing. I'm just an insomniac and haven't had time to brew a potion yet."
Dorcas' perfectly plucked eyebrows shoot up. "Is that how you've done… this?" Her hands wave up and down lazily, indicating that 'this' is Regulus' much improved health and, thus, appearance.
"Turns out a solid sleep schedule is almost miraculous."
Dorcas lets out an impressed sound. "I know Barty and Evan took the piss out of you in the train, but you do look good Reg. I was getting worried before the summer."
"Worried?" Regulus knows he was too small for his age. A little too pale. His ribs were showing and the points of his hipbones kept getting bruised.
But he can't think of a reason that would be worrying to anyone, least of all Dorcas. It's not like she ever saw the purple and yellow marks, or the bones jutting out as though they'd break skin. Or anything else.
"You looked like you'd keel over any moment."
Regulus scoffs, affronted. "I did not."
"You looked like a sickly Victorian child."
"I'm this close to hexing you, Meadowes."
Dorcas laughs, and Regulus likes the sound. He doesn't make people laugh very often. He doesn't try. Sirius was always the funny one.
"I was trying to compliment you, and you somehow turned it around," she says, amused. "I might make it my project for the year. Teach Reg to accept a compliment challenge of 78."
Regulus doesn't acknowledge this. He's still looking at the ceiling, watching the shadows drift with the soft movement of the lake outside. Dorcas lets her head fall on her shoulder, looking at Regulus' profile.
The silence stretches. Regulus lets it. He can almost feel Dorcas caving. Giving in. Anything to fill the silence. They all do it, sooner or later.
"I was with someone," she whispers, surprising him somewhat.
He's not sure why this would be something to keep secret. It's not like people in their year don't get around. Barty's always having some affair or other, for example. He nods to let her know he's heard her, but he's not going to comment. Dorcas' private life is hers. If she wants to share it, he'll listen. But he's not going ask questions.
The silence makes Dorcas comfortable, because after a moment she continues. "I just… I don't like sleeping in my dorm. Not since... well. It's just not the best right now."
At this, Regulus sits up and looks at her. They all know Dorcas had been struggling at the end of last year, but they thought it was because of the pressure of her approaching NEWTS. They assumed she was nervous about graduation. It's not unusual for students to have a bit of a panic at the end of their sixth or the start of their seventh year.
It hadn't occurred to Regulus that she might be having issues with the girls in her dorm. He should have known better. Paid more attention. Doesn't he pride himself in being observant? How did he miss this?
His heart is dead. Frozen. But he's got enough blood still flowing to feel a quiet sort of murderous fury when his friends are hurt. He has few, and he can't make more, so Regulus will do the unspeakable to keep the ones he has with him.
"Tell me," he says. He's asking, but also demanding.
Dorcas sighs. "I can't. But it's okay. They'll all be asleep now, so I can sneak in."
"No," Regulus says. "Tell me who hurt you."
Dorcas looks at him, big brown eyes framed with thick lashes. She studies his face, which he knows shows nothing. His lips are a thin line because he's clenching his jaw and his eyes are trained on his friend. Waiting.
"I don't know if I can trust you," she whispers.
Regulus nods. This is fair. "I fully intend to do something horrible to whoever hurt you."
Dorcas chuckles like she wasn't expecting this. "That's not what I mean. I…"
And then, it clicks. In his brain, a few cogs move and the pieces fall together. They wouldn't have, he knows, if it weren't for Regulus himself. Suddenly, he knows. He knows because he's the same.
"Who?" He asks, a bit more gently this time.
She locks eyes with him, and takes a deep breath. "Blair."
The word hangs between them, heavy with all that it means. It's a dangerous thing, for them to talk about this out loud. Dorcas' family isn't as strict as Regulus' but she's a Slytherin. She's in the viper's nest. It strikes Regulus that it must have taken an enormous amount of courage for Dorcas to even do anything that would reveal her feelings to Blair.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?"
Dorcas studies him slowly. Eventually, she says, "You're not disgusted."
"No."
"Why?"
He makes a decision, then. He wants to keep the friends he has because he won't make more. Not where he's going. Not with what he has to do. And he needs allies. He's going to need some help, if things are going to go the way he wants them to. He's good. Regulus is very fucking good. But he's not invincible. He depends on sleeping draughts to stay healthy and has a debilitating fear of locked doors, of all things. He knows it's irrational. He can't do anything about it. Anyway, the point is that he likes Dorcas. And she's told him something that could completely destroy her.
So, to seal their fate and tie her to him, Regulus reciprocates.
"Why do you think?"
Dorcas' lips form a perfect O. "You? Really?"
Something inside of him protests this reaction. Is it that shocking? He's never dated anyone. Not even to keep up appearances. Never been seen near a girl that wasn't Dorcas herself or Pandora. Never commented on a crush, or on who he found attractive. Surely, someone must have wondered at some point.
She sees something on his face, and hurries to explain. "I just mean… I thought you simply didn't… that you didn't feel that way about people. Of any gender. Because you never said, or looked at anyone, or…"
"Ah," he understands. He's very good at masking his emotions. At keeping himself in check, stoic. "Well, I do."
Dorcas smiles and sits up to put her hands on his shoulders. Regulus stiffens, because he doesn't like being touched. But he allows it when she whispers, "Regulus, I'm gay. I like girls."
And in the darkness of the night, in the silence broken only by their quiet breathing, for the first time ever, Regulus offers someone else a truth that holds some power over him. It's terrifying, but he does it anyway. After all, it's only the first of many terrifying things he'll do in the coming months.
"Dorcas, I'm gay. I like boys."
James does not like potions. He's decent at them, but he simply doesn't enjoy brewing. He's known this for years, and yet he'd had no choice but to take them for NEWTS because they were required for a career as an auror. Like, why? You know? It's not like aurors have time to lug their cauldrons around. Surely there are people who make the potions for them?
James isn't sure. He guesses it doesn't really matter, because the requirement still exists and he has to meet it. He will. He'll find a way.
"Why are you glowering at your cauldron?" asks Lily, who's working next to him today.
They're brewing amortentia, which isn't the hardest potion, but it does give James some trouble. He's fairly certain the colour is wrong.
"I think I did something wrong but I'm not sure what. Or if I can fix it," he replies, running a hand through his hair.
Lily scoots over and peers at his potion. She's got very nice, thick red hair. He's always thought her very pretty. To the point that he had a very loud crush on her all of fifth year. He asked her out a million times. She always said no. It was devastating, but he gets it. They're not very well matched.
"Hmm," she says, stirring his potion a little bit.
Lily is kind, and bookish. She's intimidatingly smart. She also happens to be a potions genius, so James happily steps back and lets her poke and prod inside his cauldron. If anyone can fix his potion, it'll be Lily Evans.
"I think you added more rose thorns than needed but it's not a big deal. Here," she reaches for the next ingredient, pours it in and stirs in a very specific pattern that James has never seen before. He's certain it's not in his book, but he's never been a fan of rules.
If Lily wants to break them to save his potion, he'll support it wholeheartedly.
"Do you have the moonstone?" she asks him. James hands it to her promptly. She drops it in and smiles. "There. It should start smelling like something now. Does it?"
James leans in. "Broom polish," he says, smiling. He wiggles his eyebrows and Lily laughs. "And… grass! I love me some grass." He beams at Lily, who's still giggling rather prettily. "Oh and… lavender? What?"
James is genuinely confused. He stands away from the cauldron, waits a moment. Tries again. Yes. There's lavender in there. He's puzzling over this, so it takes him a minute to realise a blush has spread across Lily's cheeks. "Lavender? Are you sure?"
James nods. "Well, yes. Our house elf loves it and uses it with laundry. I'd recognise it anywhere," he purses his lips, thinking. "Does that mean I'm attracted to people who smell like lavender? I'm most certainly not into house elves, no offence to them. So what? Is it just the general smell of it? Or like a specific person that happens to use lavender? A lot of people use it. I'm confused."
Lily's still blushing, listening to James' rant attentively. Like he's pontificating about something important and not having a minor crisis over whether he's suddenly going to fall in love with his house elf (he's not. Obviously. But Lily's still grinning and he kind of likes it.)
"Well, it does bring up things you're attracted to. But like, not a specific person's smell. I think. More like, it's probably someone who somehow encompasses all three? I'm not sure."
"The broom polish and grass I get," he declares. "The lavender's a bit confusing, but I'm open minded."
Lily giggles again. James is about to ask what she smells in the potion when a commotion breaks out behind them.
Sirius is staring at his cauldron like it might bite him, and Remus is trying - and failing - to calm him down. In fact, every time Remus moves closer, Sirius only freaks out more. Peter is watching them helplessly, standing in front of Remus so he doesn't try to reach for Sirius again, since it only seems to agitate their friend. Peter and James lock eyes, and James shakes his head, amused. He can guess what's happening. He also knows it's going to take more than smelling amortentia for Sirius to realise he's falling in love with their friend.
"Excuse me," James tells Lily, wading through the desks to get to his friend.
James grabs Sirius' arm and pulls him towards him while Peter distracts Remus. "Pads?"
"I don't understand," he whispers, eyes darting from James to the cauldron and back. His hands are shaking. "It smells weird. It's broken."
James shrugs, arm still clamped on Sirius' shoulder. He knows the contact helps him. Grounds him. "Mine has lavender in it, can you believe it? Me? Lavender?"
"You hate doing laundry," Sirius says immediately, supportive even when it doesn't make sense to be. "That's just stupid."
James nods solemnly. "Maybe we did something wrong. Or the ingredients were too old. What are you freaking out about? Can't be worse than lavender."
"Well," Sirius says, glancing around surreptitiously. "There's grass. And, you know when it's almost dawn and the air smells like wet and fresh and just crisp?"
James can't say that he does, but he nods in encouragement regardless because this is his Padfoot and there's no other course of action.
Sirius looks around again. Bends his head closer to James, getting all into his personal space. If James tilted his head down, he'd kiss the tip of Sirius' nose. That's how close he is. His friend whispers, "And then there's… well. There's chocolate."
James has to fight very hard not to smile. He looks down, bending his neck a little so he can make eye contact without accidentally kissing his friend. "Pads. You love chocolate."
"I do," he says. Then, he straightens a little, but remains firmly in James' orbit. "But I don't want to shag it!"
James bursts out laughing. Sirius' lips twitch like he's trying to remain solemn. He's losing the battle. "Pads, mate, I don't wanna shag a bush of lavender either and I'm not having a meltdown over it. You freaking drama queen."
Sirius smiles, running a hand through his long hair. "I'm an idiot."
"You're an idiot," James confirms. "But you're my idiot. I love you."
Sirius immediately pulls James into a hug, arms going around his middle and squeezing like he's never going to let go. "I love you too, Prongs."
Regulus is perpetually surrounded by idiots. It's annoying. He wishes there was some sort of culling, like if you're not able to exist in silence or get yourself from one classroom to the next without sprinting down the corridors, you're out. If you can't walk without stomping your feet, you're out. If you cannot chew your food without showing it to the rest of the student body, you're out. Breathe too noisily? Out. Mutter to yourself while you're reading a book? Get the fuck out.
Loud, obnoxious people are a nuisance, and as such should be removed from the premises. From the country, if he had his way.
Alas, this is probably why the fate of the world will never be left in Regulus' hands. He'd annihilate half the population if he could. They're just…
A group of third years scramble past him, jostling him as they squeeze in the space between Regulus and the wall. It's all he can do not to take out his wand and hex them into the next century.
Merlin's balls. These children.
"I'm pretty sure we weren't that annoying in third year," says Evan, narrowing his eyes at the retreating forms of the younger students.
"That's because Reg'd rather die than be caught looking like a savage," Barty says. "He's forced his aloof, civilised demeanour on us."
"In appearance only," Regulus says, because his two friends are heathens who'll cause chaos if left unsupervised for more than two minutes.
"Your life would be so boring if you didn't have us," Barty insists. "Can you imagine it, Evan?"
"It would be tragic," he says. "He'd be so melancholic, people would confuse him with a depressed, quiet ghost haunting the library."
"A handsome one," Barty adds, wiggling his eyebrows. "Are the girls all over you yet, Reg?"
"No."
Evan is notoriously quiet, but Regulus decides he's not going to think about why. If Evan wants to discuss it, he'll have to bring it up with the wall. One over dramatic confession in the middle of the night is more than enough for Regulus. He'll never need another one. Ever.
"They will be," Barty continues. "You've always been pretty but now you're like… you know, grown up."
"I'm sixteen," Regulus reminds him. "We're not even out of puberty yet."
"You always says the sexiest things," Barty replies. Evan snickers and Regulus has to swallow a groan.
They turn a corner and, to Regulus' absolute horror, two girls look up and start giggling immediately. Barty laughs so hard he snorts. "Regulus Black, the new heartthrob of Hogwarts. Your brother will never recover."
"You two are insane," Regulus says.
"It's your presence. It's driving us crazy! We cannot contain ourselves any longer," Barty says, and they burst into laughter again.
Regulus rolls his eyes, but doesn't comment. His friend continues to tease him all the way to the next classroom, where they sit through a truly mind-numbing history of magic lesson. When it's over, Evan and Barty head to the Slytherin common room for a game of explosive snap but Regulus takes a detour to the library. He has a prefect patrol later that afternoon, and he'd rather kill time amongst his books.
He's reading through a Charms book, absorbing theory on casting them silently, when he hears it. A name. The one name that has haunted Regulus for as long as he's been at this school.
"You mean James Potter?"
Regulus stomach clenches like it's a fist. At this point, he's pretty sure it's a Pavlovian reaction. Anything and everything that has to do with James Potter will make him incensed.
If hatred had a personification, for Regulus it would be James I'm-obnoxious-and-proud-about-it Potter. Naturally, this means Regulus can do nothing but strain his ears to listen in on the conversation the girls are having.
"Of course. There are no other Jameses in our year, Marlene," a voice replies. "Are you going to let me finish?"
There's a noise of surrender from whom Regulus assumes is Marlene. The girl carries on with her tale.
"He said he smelled broom polish, grass, and… well, and lavender."
There's stunned silence for a moment during which Regulus is genuinely confused until another voice says, "he smelled the main ingredient of your perfume, body lotion, and shampoo in his amortentia?"
Regulus perks up immediately. Knowledge of the things in James Potter's amortentia is powerful. Any knowledge about his enemy is powerful, but this - which has the potential to be truly humiliating - is golden. Regulus gets up from his chair silently and leans against the bookshelves, peering through the little gaps in the books.
He recognises all of the girls. There's Lily Evans, whose hair is so bright it's practically a beacon. She's the one doing the explaining. There's also Marlene McKinnon, who plays in the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and MacDonald. Her first name escapes him now, but she's also loud and a bit annoying so Regulus knows who she is.
"What did he say?" McKinnon asks.
Evans is blushing. "Well he was confused. Went on a little rant about laundry and house elves. I don't think he knows it's me."
MacDonald purses her lips, tugging at the curls by her shoulder. "I mean… are we sure? Like, he's obviously attracted to things that smell like lavender so, yes. And he did have a crush on you all of fifth year. That's no secret. But it's not like Lily spends much time outdoors. And you've not been on a broom since Hooch's lessons stopped being mandatory in second year."
Evans groans, folds her arms on the table and drops her forehead on them. Regulus thinks this display of dramatics is embarrassing but it's not like he's going to point it out to her.
"Well. He's clearly into someone. He has to be. James hasn't dated anyone since he broke up with Jo after Christmas last year. It's been too long, right?" McKinnon mumbles. "Do you think he likes someone who doesn't like him back?"
Evans looks up, downright alarmed. "Who in their right mind would say no to James Potter?"
"A lesbian," says MacDonald immediately.
Regulus stomach lurches so violently he thinks he might be sick all over the bookstacks. And yet, the Gryffindor girls don't even blink. Like it's normal. Like they can talk about it without looking over their shoulders and whispering.
"Well, yes. But if James liked a lesbian, surely she would have told him she's not interested and he'd moved on," Evans reasons. "Anyone who is attracted to men would not be able to say no to him. It's not possible."
"Maybe he likes a straight guy," McKinnon supplies.
Regulus thinks he's going to pass out. How are these girls discussing this so casually? Like it's no big deal? His palms are sweaty and he's pretty sure he's hyperventilating. And yet, for some reason, he cannot force himself back into his chair. He wants to hear what the girls say about the possibility of James Potter - the straightest bloke to ever exist - liking a dude.
"Same scenario as with the lesbian, though. They'd just say no, and James would move on," Evans, who is apparently the fucking authority on James Potter now, says.
Regulus is quite annoyed all of a sudden. The whole thing is ridiculous.
"Well. You've got two choices Lils. You either ask him out or wait to see if he realises he likes you on his own. But that could take a while."
Evans sighs, sounding rather agitated. "I'm going to do it. Ask him out, I mean. I'll do it on Friday at the party."
Regulus retreats from the bookshelf, returning to his chair and bending over his Charms book like he didn't spend the last ten minutes spying on a bunch of girls. He is, however, not reading anymore.