The Houses Competition Year 10 round 8.

House: Slytherin

Class: Prefect

Category: Standard

Word Count: 1897

Prompt(s):

Role swap (Two characters rolls are completely swapped. Such as Neville is the boy who lived, not Harry)

[First Line] If all days started like this, I'd never get out of bed. (alt, he/she/they)

Green - new beginnings

Warnings: Mild Bullying

If all days started like this, he'd never get out of bed. Literally never. He would curl up in a tiny little ball and dig himself deeper under his goose down duvet and silk sheets and never come out.

Today was supposed to be the best day of his life! His first day of classes, making new friends, getting lost in Hogwarts' ancient, winding halls. He wasn't supposed to receive a letter that made his heart sink down to his toes and his black pudding stick in his throat. But regardless of what today was supposed to be like, here he was, sitting at his new house table with the letter in his hands, the whole school whispering about him, and Sirius and Narcissa glaring at him from the Slytherin table.

Honestly Regulus wasn't fully sure why the hat had sorted him into Gryffindor. He had always secretly wanted it, but he wasn't loud and hyperactive like his roommates were. The most Gryffindor thing he ever did was mutter sarcastic comments under his breath and play muggle songs that he had learned from Uncle Alfred on the piano. Somehow simply telling the hat that he always wanted to be in Gryffindor was enough to convince it to put him there.

"Why are you wearing a green band around your wrist?" a small high pitched voice asked.

Regulus looked over at the girl sitting next to him. He didn't remember her name, but she had been sorted into Ravenclaw the night before; he remembered because her blond hair reminded him of Narcissa's.

"My brother made it for me before he went to Hogwarts. I always wear it," he said.

The girl looked at him in confusion. "Are you sure it's not because all the other Blacks have been in Slytherin?" she asked.

Regulus huffed lightly. "It's not green because of Slytherin," he said. "Sirius made it to remind me that, even though we're a year apart, we're both starting Hogwarts together. He said it's green because that's the color of spring, and spring is when the world starts over again. He's got one too."

"Oh," the girl said. "I like that. It's always like Spring at my house! My parents are herbologists, so we've always got new plants all over the house!" She took a long drink of some juice that Regulus thought must be a mix of several different kinds. "My name's Pandora, by the way," she said. "I'm in Ravenclaw, but you looked a little lonely."

Regulus looked down at his letter, glancing over the words. He had no doubt that Mother and Father would not hesitate to act on their threats. If he didn't keep being the perfect pureblood son, then he would be disowned. He did feel a little lonely with the way Sirius was glaring at him. "I suppose you're right," he said to Pandora. "I'm Regulus."

Pandora grinned back at him. "Your first class is Charms, right?" she asked. "My timetable says I've got that with the Gryffindors first."

"Yes, I'm not sure where to go though," Regulus said.

"Perfect!" Pandora said, standing up sharply, and seemingly unbothered by the noise of the bench scraping across the floor. "We'll go together!"

Regulus didn't protest as he followed her out of the great hall. There was still twenty minutes before class was supposed to start, but given that neither of them knew where their class was, leaving early was probably a good idea.

"Reggie, wait!"

Regulus stopped as he and Pandora were about to start up the stairs and turned to look at Sirius, a spark of hope seeming to start in his chest. Sirius looked friendly, completely different from how he was in the great hall. Regulus knew Sirius, he knew how good at faking things he was. Maybe the glaring had all been an act.

"Congratulations on getting Gryffindor," Sirius said. "First Black ever not in Slytherin."

"Thanks," Regulus said quietly, a small smile beginning to bloom across his face.

There was silence for a moment, but Regulus didn't mind. Sirius didn't actually hate him! Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all.

"You're still wearing the band I made you," Sirius said.

Regulus lifted his arm and nodded enthusiastically. "For our new beginning at Hogwarts, just like you said!"

A look of concern crossed Sirius' face. "Are you sure you should be wearing something green though, now that you're a Gryffindor?"

"But it's not about the houses," Regulus said. Sirius was acting weird now. He knew what the green of the band meant—he's the one who gave it to Regulus.

Sirius didn't seem to pay attention to Regulus' words. Instead he reached for Regulus' arm. "Here let me fix it for you." He said a spell that Regulus didn't recognise, and the green of the band bled away into red.

"Stop!" Regulus cried, pulling his arm out of Sirius' grasp and hugging it to his chest. "Why would you do that?"

Sirius laughed as tears began to prick at Regulus' eyes. "Isn't it obvious?" he said. "It's not like you need a reminder that you're starting something new, being in Gryffindor and all. I think the band will serve a much better purpose this way. Red, to remind you not to forget your blood."

Regulus bit his lower lip and tried to blink his tears away. He was a Gryffindor, and a Black, and he wasn't going to cry. "Change it back," he said, trying to sound braver than he felt.

"Or what?" Sirius asked.

"Or… I'll…"

Sirius laughed again. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Crybaby."

If all days started like this, he'd never get out of bed. He felt safe. Birds were singing the open window, and a gentle breeze lifted the long white lace curtains. He looked at the plants that stood and hung around the floor to ceiling window; they all seemed so bright and green and full of life. If this moment could last forever, then Regulus would stay right where he was and never move.

He took a deep breath of the fresh air. It was so different from the stale air in his room back home. No. Not back home. His old room at his old house. He was free. He was finally free. He sat up, running his hand along the slightly rough texture of the cotton sheets. He could do whatever he wanted, be whoever he wanted. He was sure by now he would have been burned off the family tree, a visual representation of his disownment. He wasn't a Black anymore, he was just Regulus.

He stood up off his bed and walked over to the small bag he had packed weeks before he finally ran away. It wasn't that he had been planning to run away, but after Pandora offered her home, the thought seemed possible for the first time. The bag didn't have much in it. Some money, some clothes, his wand, and a shrunken form of his trunk of school supplies and robes. That was all he really needed. He dug through it, looking for a short sleeved shirt, when his fingers brushed against something that he didn't remember putting in the bag. He pulled it out, his brow furrowing in confusion.

The confusion quickly turned to surprise.

It was the band, the one Sirius had made him before Sirius' first year at Hogwarts. But instead of being the bright red it had been when Regulus shoved it to the bottom of his trunk after his first day at Hogwarts, it was back to its original bright green. He stared at it for a moment. He hadn't packed it. When he got home from Hogwarts that Christmas he had shoved it all the way to the back of his wardrobe and tried to forget all about it. He had forgotten all about it. And yet here it was, resting innocently in his palm.

Sirius must've changed it back.

The thought almost frightened Regulus. Why would Sirius go digging around in Regulus' room to find an old sentimental gift, change it back to its original color, and put it in Regulus' secret bag? It must be a trick of some kind; a way to make Regulus feel guilty for leaving. He shoved it back in the bag, pushing it all the way to the bottom. It wouldn't work. The band was still just as ruined as the day Sirius had turned it red.

That part of Regulus' life was over now. Sirius didn't care about Regulus, why would Regulus care about Sirius.

If all days started like this, he'd never get out of bed. He would stay there with his eyes closed and his head buried in his pillow as if nothing and no one existed. He didn't know why he cared. Clearly his old family didn't care about him. Why else would he learn about Sirius' death from the Daily Prophet? Sirius Black Announced Dead Under Mysterious Circumstances.

Regulus didn't need to wonder what those "mysterious circumstances" were, and the thought made him sick. Sirius had always been the perfect son. He was already talking about joining the Death Eaters when Regulus had left. His only flaw had been his habit of mouthing off at the wrong time. Surely that was the "mysterious circumstance" that caused his death. Voldemort would have said something, Sirius would have mouthed off, and Voldemort would have had him killed.

There was no other way Regulus could imagine it happening.

He threw the paper down on his table, careful to avoid the English Ivy plant that Pandora had given him when he had moved out of her family's house. He didn't care about Sirius. The tears in his eyes meant nothing. Sirius never cared about him, so why should he care about Sirius?

It was the same mantra he had been repeating to himself since first year. It was the same lie.

Regulus was tired of lying.

He swiped at the tears in his eyes and made his way to the closet in his small bedroom. On the back corner of the shelf above the clothes was his old bag that he had used to run away from home. He never used it anymore, but he had never gotten rid of it. It was almost empty, and that was why he ignored it so much. The only thing in it, way down in the bottom, was the green band Sirius had given him. It had seemed to mock him when he put it in there. It was a harsh reminder to him that Sirius didn't care.

But what if he had been wrong? What if Sirius did care? What if he had put the band in the bag not to mock Regulus, but to tell him he still cared?

It was too late now. Regulus would never know. He slipped the band onto his wrist. He couldn't mourn for Sirius, not openly. It would cause too many questions in the Order, and he was on shaky enough ground as it was given that he was a Black. He couldn't be seen mourning the death of a known Death Eater. But if anyone asked about the green band, he could tell them the truth. It marked a new beginning—and the part he wouldn't add—but this time without Sirius. This time Sirius was gone forever.