CHAPTER EIGHT: BIRTHDAY

It had been peculiar when Regulus apologised. Peculiar because he so clearly believed he was above apologising to anyone, let alone a muggle, but more peculiar because of the feelings it stirred in Flora — feelings it stirred in both of them. In that brief moment, Regulus had done something he felt was akin to biting his own finger off; he'd apologised to a muggle and wasn't entirely sure what had pushed him to do it. The only person he'd ever apologised to in his life was Sirius, or perhaps his father once or twice, but that was only because his mother made him and not out of any genuine remorse. But he'd felt remorse this time, an uneasy feeling not too dissimilar to when he first realised he might be on the wrong side of the war. Her tears had shaken him; he'd never meant to hurt her.

When Regulus went up to his room that night, it was to get away from her. He couldn't bear to look at her face, to read the confusion or worse, perhaps even a little smugness, in her eyes. He hadn't looked at her when he apologised because he was afraid she would gloat. He half expected Sirius to make a fuss when he came the following day, but he never mentioned anything about it. Evidently, Flora hadn't told him. Sirius was more concerned about them leaving the wards, and then Remus came later and gave them double a warning.

There was nothing to do but tolerate one another. They found peace in sitting in the living room together (still at a considerable distance), and Regulus began to find it oddly comforting to sit in the living room while Flora cooked in the kitchen next door.

"Dinner's ready," Flora called to him one evening. It was the day before her birthday.

Regulus put his latest Quidditch magazine aside and heaved himself up from the sunken armchair. Flora was just setting two bowls of what looked like stew down on the table as he stepped into the kitchen. She smiled faintly, briefly, and pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. They hadn't argued in three days.

"I made lobscows," Flora said as they both sat down.

"Lobs-what?" Regulus blinked, at once wary.

"It's a Welsh dish. My mam used to make it," Flora replied. "Don't look so suspicious. It's just lamb and vegetables. I thought with the weather getting colder, this would be nice."

Regulus poked the meat and vegetables around with his spoon for a moment, then scooped up a portion and began to eat. It was delicious, but he'd never tell Flora that. Flora took his lack of commentary, good or bad, to mean he liked it and was thus satisfied.

"There's bread there too," Flora pointed to the wooden cutting board loaded with slabs of fresh, warm bread.

"Did you make the bread?"

"Mhm," Flora nodded.

Regulus took a piece and broke off a portion to dip in the stew. Again, it tasted wonderful, but he said nothing.

"Do you like it?" Flora ventured.

Regulus raised his eyes to meet hers for a moment, looking at her through his long eyelashes. "It's alright," he conceded, quickly looking down again and shovelling more food into his mouth.

They lapsed into silence for five minutes, both eating, occupied with their own thoughts. Flora stared across the room as she ate while Regulus firmly kept his eyes on his dinner, as though he were afraid to let his gaze wander anywhere else.

"Remus and Sirius are coming over tomorrow," Flora said.

"For your birthday?" Regulus mumbled, his eyes still locked on his food.

"You remembered?" Flora smiled, looking at him.

Regulus glanced up at this, frowning a little. "It's not like I have much else to think about around here."

"I'm going to be eighteen."

"Hm."

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Oh," Flora started in surprise at this revelation, smiling a little. "We're nearly the same age."

Regulus didn't reply. He reached for some more bread and used it to soak up the dregs of his stew, which he had thoroughly enjoyed.

"When is your birthday?" Flora asked.

"June."

"June what?"

"The twenty-fifth."

"It must be nice to have a summer birthday," Flora said.

Regulus shrugged. "It doesn't make any difference one way or another."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't enjoy birthdays," he replied.

"What? Why not?"

Regulus paused a moment as he considered his answer; he considered whether he should elaborate at all. But what did it matter, he reasoned. He was stuck with the girl, so he may as well talk to her.

"My mother would always organise a big family gathering. All my cousins would be there, my aunts, uncles, grandparents…" he began to explain. He'd finished his stew and was now nibbling on the remaining pieces of bread. "I don't like the fuss. And my cousin Bellatrix is a walking nightmare. She pushed me down a well on my ninth birthday."

Flora stared in disbelief. "She pushed you down a well?"

"Not a deep well," he clarified vaguely.

"You poor thing," Flora said, genuinely heartfelt. "Were you hurt?"

"Not badly," Regulus replied, looking at Flora now. "I landed in stagnant water. Shallow, luckily, and there were a lot of old leaves below. But I'll never forget the smell."

"How awful."

"But… I take it you like birthdays?" Regulus said.

"I liked them more when my parents were alive, but yes," Flora nodded. "As long as I still have Remus, I love celebrating my birthday. And Remus' birthday too. His is in March, so it's already passed, but we had a good time."

"Is Remus really your brother?" Regulus asked with a small frown.

"He's my half-brother."

"So," he looked perplexed, "Are you a squib?"

"No," she shook her head. "Both my parents were muggles. Remus' father died when he was small, and my mam remarried and had me."

"What happened to your parents?"

Flora shrugged, glancing down at her empty bowl. "Remus said it was a home invasion gone wrong."

Regulus understood she didn't want to explain further and was about to change the subject when she quickly added, "That's what Remus tells me, anyway."

Regulus considered her words, her look. He regarded her for a moment, then replied carefully, "What do you mean by that?"

"By what?"

"You said it like you don't believe him."

"Because I don't," Flora agreed.

Regulus again paused to reflect and think about his next question. "You think it was… was something to do with my world?"

"Quite certain actually," Flora replied, picking up her bowl and his. She stacked them together and stood up to take them to the sink. "He's very evasive about it. And why would anyone try to rob this old house?"

Regulus suddenly understood. "Oh…"

"Sirius and his friend James came and took me to a safe house for a while. They never directly told me what happened. But now he keeps me here with all these wards and charms around the house."

"Well, that's quite understandable."

She cast him an irritated look. "I've been stuck here for three years. And now he's locking me down even more because of that stupid Nazi wizard. I was supposed to go to university this year."

Flora was met with a blank stare. "What is university?" He asked.

"A place to further your education. To get a degree. I was going to read English at Cambridge."

"Well, you can read here, can't you?"

Flora sighed and turned away to begin the washing up. "You don't understand."

She was very right. Regulus didn't understand. He looked away and stared across the room idly, then shifted his eyes to look at the back of her head. Flora didn't say another word while she washed the dishes, but Regulus heard her singing softly under her breath. He remained sitting at the table while Flora cleaned, observing her silently, quickly lowering his gaze whenever she turned her head slightly.

"What's a Nazi?" he asked after a long moment of deliberation.

Flora turned to him in surprise. "What?"

"What you said a, uh, a Nazi wizard. What does that mean?"

Flora regarded him as she considered her next words, unsure of how to proceed explaining such a significant portion of muggle history to a pureblood wizard who didn't even know how a toaster worked.

"The Nazis were a political group in Germany during the Second World War who, among other things, attempted to dominate Europe," Flora began, speaking much like a teacher explaining something to a student. "It was led by a man named Adolf Hitler. He believed Germans were the superior race and he garnered a lot of followers."

Regulus' eyebrows furrowed as he tried to absorb this history lesson. "So, these Nazis... they believed themselves to be superior to others?"

"Yes," Flora put the last plate aside on the drying rack. She didn't say anything more on the matter, half fearing she might be rekindling his pureblood sentiments, but she added for good measure, "They murdered a lot of people. Jews, namely. You can look it up yourself. They were evil."

Regulus leaned back in his chair, his gaze dropping to the table. He was deep in thought, assimilating the information Flora had given him. The more he heard, the more uneasy he became.

After a moment of silence, Regulus spoke up again, his voice quieter than before.

"They sound familiar."

Flora nodded wordlessly and wiped down the kitchen counter before turning around again. "D'you want to watch telly with me?" she asked, anxious to change the subject.

Regulus straightened up. "I'll read," he said, taking up his latest Quidditch magazine. He followed Flora into the living room and sat at the other end of the sofa while she settled down to watch Are You Being Served?

The next day was Flora's birthday. Remus and Sirius arrived just before dinnertime, for which Flora had prepared an array of sandwiches, a cheese quiche, salad, and many other things. Both Remus and Sirius were in good spirits; they brought gifts and flowers for Flora. Sirius kissed her cheek and caused her to blush deeply, which nobody but Regulus noticed. He eyed her and made a low noise in his throat, a scoff not even Flora heard.

Remus brought her a chocolate cake, which he had made himself, and gifted her a chocolate frog, some sugar quills, and a beautiful, leather-bound, gilded copy of Wuthering Heights; from Sirius she received a wizards' chess set and another chocolate frog.

"It's beautiful… But I don't know how to play chess," Flora said when she had unwrapped the gift and looked it over.

"Regulus can teach you," Sirius smiled. His younger brother scowled.

"No, thanks," Flora said quickly.

Sirius laughed softly and reached for the chess board, spreading his long fingers across the surface. "Then I'll teach you later."

And so he did. After lunch had been cleared away, Sirius set up in the living room with her on the coffee table. Remus watched closely with interest, telling Flora which moves to make, while Regulus ate some sweets Sirius had brought for him. Flora was no good at chess, even with Remus and Sirius telling her where to move the pieces; she was baffled, struggling to remember the rules as they played, and was more entranced by the way the figures moved by themselves across the board. They played a total of three games. He let Flora win the last game.

"I'm sure with some practice," Sirius said as they cleared the board away, "You'll get it."

"Then I'll have to wait for you and Remus to play with me," Flora replied. She picked up the book Remus had given her and flipped through it, admiring the illustrations included in this particular edition.

"This is my favourite novel, Remus, thank you," she said to him for the second time that day.

Remus smiled benignly. "I know it is. It was mam's favourite too."

"Yes," Flora said quietly. Her eyes momentarily fixed on her brother and then looked away. There was an uncomfortable feeling in the room for just a second before Flora spoke again, smiling, "Shall we have some cake?"

"We haven't sung happy birthday to you yet," said Sirius.

"Oh, no, don't," Flora laughed, covering her face.

But Sirius was already on his feet, heading for the kitchen with Remus. Flora pulled her legs up comfortably on the sofa and glanced over at Regulus; he'd said very little except to criticise her chess skills and he said nothing now. He was picking at some fluff on his trousers.

Remus and Sirius returned barely a minute later, Remus carrying the cake now lit with candles. Sirius was beaming at his side.

"HAAAAPPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUU—Come on, Reggie. Join in."

Regulus, with his arms folded across his chest, glowered and turned his head aside. He did not join in. Flora clapped when Sirius and Remus had finished singing, laughing happily as she blew out her candles.

"Did you make the cake, Remus?" Flora asked, looking up at her brother.

Remus looked a little sheepish and nodded once, shrugging. "I did my best. I brought this for you too," he revealed a bottle of white wine he'd been holding behind his back. "Since you're grown up now, you can have some. There's another bottle in the kitchen too."

"You think I haven't had wine before?" Flora raised an eyebrow.

Remus smiled and shook his head. "Want some now?"

They all shared the wine and the cake. It was a delicious cake; Flora was impressed. All that was left to do was dance. Flora rushed to her record player, immediately putting on a Blondie single with even more Blondie singles lined up. Regulus had become more sullen because Sirius had tried to put a party hat on his head, but he stayed in the room, sipping his wine and watching Flora dance around with Remus as they became increasingly intoxicated. It turned out Sirius had also brought a bottle of fire whiskey, which although Flora didn't like, she still took a shot from.

"Oh, it's horrid!" She cried, making a face as the whiskey burned her throat.

Sirius laughed and took a swig from the bottle himself. He then put it aside and took hold of Flora's hands, pulling her into the centre of the room with him. Remus had just changed the record to 'Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy' by Queen, which now reverberated off the walls.

Regulus was the only one still sitting down, glum as ever. That was, at least, until he saw Sirius leading Flora along in some close-bodied swaying and twirling; he raised himself slightly, fixating his sharp eyes on the pair of them.

A sudden, strange feeling settled in his chest, a feeling he was certainly not familiar with. It felt like someone was twisting and squeezing something inside him. It was not a particularly strong feeling, but it was noticeable enough for him to become uncomfortable as he watched Flora and his brother. The only time he could ever recall this feeling was when he was ten or eleven, when he grew sweet on a girl he often saw around Diagon Alley. He'd felt this exact feeling when he saw her talking to another boy: jealousy.

It was sudden, like he'd been standing on a rug that had been pulled from under his feet. But he still said nothing, did nothing. His judgment was impaired, he thought, considering he was on his second glass of wine and he probably had a touch of cabin fever anyway. He felt spiteful too. Flora looked thrilled to be dancing with Sirius; her cheeks were pink, her eyes were wide and bright. He wanted to grab Flora by the shoulders, shake her and tell her Sirius would never, will never, ever feel that way about her. He couldn't fathom how she hadn't worked it out yet, but then again he wondered whether he would've realised if he hadn't seen it himself. But Flora was clearly besotted with Sirius.

Regulus stood up and took himself out of the room. Nobody bothered to ask where he was going, though Sirius glanced aside at him. He went upstairs to the toilet, relieved in the moment to be away from the noise below, however short-lived that may be. When he returned downstairs, Sirius was in the kitchen pouring himself more wine and cutting another slice of cake for Remus.

"Alright, Reg?" Sirius said without looking up at his little brother.

Regulus wasn't sure what made him say it. Maybe it was the wine again, maybe it was simply that he saw the opportunity. But he didn't hesitate in that moment; the music was still playing loudly in the other room, meaning there was no chance of being overheard.

"You shouldn't do that to her," he said in the most matter-of-fact way.

Sirius met his eyes, frowning. "Do what to who?"

"Dance with her," Regulus replied steadily. "With Flora."

At first, Sirius looked deeply confused. But then he thought he understood and gave his brother his usual little grin, a playful grin, and said, "Oh? Why's that? Are you jealous?"

"No," Regulus snapped back at once, scowling deeply. "No, certainly not."

"Then why can't I dance with her, Reg?"

"Because you're a-a… a queer," Regulus said with some reluctance.

Sirius at once bristled. "So what?"

"She doesn't know you're queer."

"I'm not a queer," Sirius snarled back in a low voice. "I like girls too. And I'll thank you to shut up about it."

"Doesn't matter whether you like girls or not," Regulus replied shortly. "She likes you and she doesn't realise you're with-with her brother."

"Flora is like my sister," Sirius blinked. "Like a little sister."

"I don't think she sees it that way."

"I was just dancing with her. What's it to you, anyway?" He challenged. "I thought you didn't like her."

"I don't like her," Regulus replied quickly, scoffing in disgust.

"Seems like you do, given how concerned you are."

"I'm the one who has to put up with her everyday," Regulus said stiffly. "If you upset her, then it's all I'll know about for weeks. I still remember when Evan's girlfriend dumped him in fifth year. He didn't get over that for ages."

"Yeah, well, aren't all your friends little whiny babies?" Sirius deflected. "Like you?"

"I'm just trying to make my time here easier," Regulus glared.

"Don't say anything to her about me and Remus," Sirius said warningly. "Remus doesn't want her to know. Not yet. Just promise me you won't."

"Like I want to discuss such a thing as that with her," Regulus said, screwing up his nose.

The music in the other room stopped and so did the conversation between the brothers. There was little else Regulus could say without his brother jumping to the conclusion that he was jealous and madly in love with Flora anyway, so he said nothing more on the matter and went back into the living room to sit sullenly in the corner.

To some extent, Sirius did keep his distance for the rest of the afternoon and kept encouraging Remus to dance instead. They stayed all day, well into the evening, and didn't leave until nearly eleven o'clock. By that time, Flora was quite drunk and half asleep on the sofa. She waved lazily when Remus and Sirius said goodbye, then laid there a while longer after they'd gone. The room was silent; only the the record, which had finished playing some moments ago, made a soft sound as the needle skipped over and over the empty space. It was like a whisper, both calming and empty in its monotony.

Regulus stood up. "I'm going to bed."

Flora grunted in response, her face hidden deep in the cushions. Regulus assumed she would be staying there all night. He walked up the stairs to his room and began to undress, pulling off his shirt before anything else because he had been too warm sitting so close to the fire. He jumped when he heard a creak by his doorway, turning around to see Flora just passing his room; he'd left the door open and she instantly looked his way, at first locking eyes with his and then tracking them over his bare, lean chest. It was covered with pale, claw-like scars, as was his back, which she had seen briefly before he turned. At first, she said nothing. The alcohol made her head swirl, clouding her understanding of just what she was witnessing. Her eyes lingered on his bare chest for a moment before returning to his face.

"God, I should feed you more," she said finally, giggling.

Regulus narrowed his eyes and snatched up his shirt. "Go away."

"Like a bloody beanpole," Flora muttered, still smirking. She leaned against his doorframe, resting her head on the wooden frame.

His lips compressed at the jab. Even if it was lighthearted, he did not find it funny.

"I said go away," he strode over to the door, half closing it. He couldn't close it fully because Flora was still there. She'd shut her eyes and was smiling, holding her arms around herself.

"It was a nice party, wasn't it?" She said.

"Barely tolerable, I'd say," Regulus replied tensely. "Like you."

"That's more than I can say for you," she said, opening her eyes again to look at him.

He was not looking for a verbal fight with her today. They'd managed a whole week without fighting, it would be a pity to start now, but he could never let it go once they started.

"You're hardly in a position to make a judgement about me," he retorted, stiffening his stance even more. "You're the least bearable person I've ever met. Why are you still here?"

She had just insulted him and yet remained in the doorway, looking at him like she wanted to be there, like she had arrived for the sole purpose of starting an argument.

"It's my house," she replied simply.

"I don't mean in the house," he replied irritably. "I mean why are you still in my bedroom?"

"I am not in your bedroom," Flora frowned. "That'd be disgusting."

"You're in my bedroom doorway," he snapped back. "Go away. I want to go to bed."

"You don't tell me what to do."

Though annoyed and he wanted to keep arguing with her, he knew it was stupid. So instead he shrugged, and moved his hands down to the button of his trousers as though to resume undressing for bed. "Fine, stay then. I sleep naked."

This worked. Flora at once drew back, making a face. "Ugh!"

Regulus cocked a satisfied smirk at her and he swiftly slammed the door shut. He heard Flora tread away up the hallway, muttering loudly about the terrible image he had just given her and shouting a very aggressive 'goodnight!' at him before slamming her own bedroom door.

"Goodnight," he muttered back under his breath.