It took nineteen days for Regulus to convince his parents to let him attend Hogwarts the following year. A compromise, his mother had called it. 'You'll stop this nonsense and get back to your studies,' she had said with a tone indicative of serial disbelief. Regulus wasn't in a position to argue, never mind that hisnonsensedidn't feel much like nonsense at all. Later that night, lying in Sirius's bed, curled below a ceiling full of faded, yellow glow-in-the-dark stars, he closed his eyes and forced himself into feigned disinterest, deciding then and there, if he couldn't do anything anyway, then there was nothing to lose.
It took another seventy-six days for him to work up the courage to answer one of Sirius's late night phone calls and tell him the news. He didn't believe it, not at first, and Regulus did his best to pretend the hesitance didn't cut into some deep, hidden sore spot between his ribs. The knuckles of his left hand turned white as he held the phone to his ear.
"You — what?" Sirius asked, bewildered, his voice losing traction across the distance.
"I was accepted," Regulus told him passively. "I start in the fall."
Their conversation failed to last much longer beyond that. As soon as the snow started to fall heavy against Regulus's window and Sirius picked up on his purposeful avoidance on the topic, he bid a soft goodbye, apparently content enough to leave things as they were.
It wasn't until Regulus was dragging his thingsalone,through a crowed and ancient dorm building, made entirely of cobblestone and reaching far into the sky, that the depth of his own decision began to truly weigh him down. A horrible knot the size of the sun tangled round and round in his chest as he carried everything he cared about in a medium-sized rolling suitcase, up and up and through and through, weaving carefully between endless waves of people.
A familiar feeling crept into the back of his skull as his things clattered and clashed against the stone steps as he slipped up the stairwell, heaving and panting embarrassingly loudly the whole way. Few empathetic souls gave him a pitiful look as they hurried on past. Regulus grimaced and continued, pausing only when he made it to the landing of the eighth floor to catch his breath. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand relishing in a time when this journey wouldn't have knocked him out, when he could run for miles without stopping, never worrying about how much air was entering or exiting his lungs at any given moment.
With a soft groan, he pushed the door open, flooding the dim stairwell with warm yellow light and stepped into a surprisingly empty common room. To his right, was a collection of six, round solid-wood tables, each with seven or eight equally old, equally wooden chairs. A shared kitchen laid just beyond that, stinking of bleach and looking like it was stolen directly out of a home magazine from the 70's. Each appliance was an off-white, eggshell color, whether due to age or make, Regulus couldn't be sure. To his left were two groups of tattered green couches and matching armchairs, surrounding low standing coffee tables.
Regulus headed right, down the hall splitting the kitchen and dining room, and followed it until he found what he was looking for at the furthest end of the generally quiet floor. The door was flung open and inside, a woman fussed around back and forth, back and forth, like a nervous bug. A boy, around Regulus's age, with shaggy almost-black hair on top, and dead grass colored hair peaking out underneath, stood idle in the middle with his hands on his hips.
The frown he had disappeared into casual neutrality when he spotted Regulus.
"Regulus?" he asked, all the while the woman carried on, like nothing new had happened at all.
"This is awful," she murmured, scuttling between the two as Regulus passed through the threshold. "Such a small room. Honestly, how is this allowed?"
He was taken by a sudden sense of nostalgia as he watched, entranced by the way she worried about. His father was the same way; he never could quite sit still when something was bothering him, no matter how invalid anyone else in the household found his concerns. He would leave trails of anxiety wherever he went that the rest of them had a habit of tripping on.
"Yeah," Regulus said, turning his attention back to the boy.
"Ignore my mother," he said exasperated and frowning again. "I'm Barty."
"That's Bartemius CrouchJr.,"his mother hissed suddenly, stopping dead between them. "Do not forget that," she said, spinning on Barty and sticking a finger in his face. "Iwillcall your father. This is just — this is a mess! Your bathroom at home was bigger than this!"
Barty rolled his eyes and stepped around his mother who subsequently threw her arms up in defeat. He stretched out his hand and met Regulus halfway as he stepped further into the small room.
"Nice to meet you."
Luckily, neither mother nor son made much of an attempt at small talk as the hours rolled forward, at least, not outside the occasional snide comment on how little Regulus had brought and how that must mean he'spoor— much to Barty's mother's dismay. Despite everything, he found himself lacking the will to correct her and carried on unpacking his few things only slightly more disturbed than he would be otherwise.
As the sun began to shift across the sky, and the buildings grew long shadows which cast through the window, Barty's mother finally departed. She flattened her skirt, turned up her nose, and like the dignified snob Regulus had come to see her as, she headed out of the room without so much as a passing word to either of them.
"She's pleasant, huh," Barty murmured angrily to him, shoving things around his desk in what, Regulus could only assume, was a feigned attempt at organization.
Regulus shrugged apathetically. It certainly wasn't his place to comment on someone else's mother, especially when they paled in comparison to his own witch of a parent.
Barty audibly sighed and slumped into his desk chair.
"She'll be the death of me," he said, probably more to himself than anyone else.
Regulus nodded absently as he picked through the books he had brought with him, separating them into categories and stacking them neatly on his bedside table or his desk, depending on the book. He frowned, taking stock of all the things he'd have to get before the end of the night.
"Your phone is ringing," Barty said, offhandedly, having moved on to make another attempt at shoving his clothes in the closet.
Regulus cocked his head, first at Barty, then at his phone.
Sirius, it reads, a little yellow star next to his name.
He blinked at it, his chest tightening uncomfortably. It had been four years and still, Regulus didn't know how he was supposed to react, what he was supposed to feel when Sirius called him. He always doubted it should be anything like this.
For almost four years straight, Sirius called him on Sunday at 11:30pm like clockwork. It never seemed to matter to him that Sunday's were school nights or that Regulus failed to answer ninety percent of the time. Like a bad habit, Regulus would only ever answer when something had gone wrong. He answered the week their cat died and every week during the few months that their mother had been deathly ill. The only exception was when he told Sirius he had been accepted to Hogwarts.
He, himself, had only reached out once. It was a Wednesday, the night after his seventeenth birthday, and he had called twice. Both times his eyes were filled with blurry desperation and both times Sirius hadn't picked up.
"Aren't you going to answer that?" Barty asked.
"Yes," he said dryly, noting how alien it seemed to get the call on a Tuesday. He answered even though his hands were shaking.
"Reggie!" Sirius roared, surprising Regulus with just how delighted he sounded, as if this was normal for them, as if they hadn't existed on entirely separate planes for the last few years.
"It's Regulus," Regulus said.
Sirius ignored him. "Right, right. How's move in day? How's your roommate? I heard you don't have sheets for your bed. Do you have sheets for your bed?"
Regulus rolled his eyes and spun to face the dreary, off-white brick wall his bed was pressed against.
"Everything is fine and — wait, how do you know I don't have sheets?"
"Dad mentioned you hardly took anything with you. Not very mature of you, Reggie," he chastised.
Regulus swallowed the childlike urge to hang up and throw his phone out the window. There wasn't anything mature about his departure; it was all bruised spots and running as fast as he could. Sirius would have known that if—
"Sure did. He —" somewhere in the background, someone yelled Sirius's name. "Huh? Yeah! Later tonight," he said, though he sounded far away. Regulus could almost picture the way he must have been holding the phone, far from his face, like he used to when they were kids and their mother forced them to speak to some distant relative who couldn't have cared less about them. Regulus pictured the same look of disdain on Sirius's face and frowned. "—Anyway," he said, "I have some stuff for you, including sheets, so come by our apartment tonight at five. I'll introduce you to everyone. Ok?"
Regulus didn't know who everyone was supposed to be and he hardly cared enough to go out of his way and find out, but he agreed anyway. The 'ok' slipped out of his mouth like had always meant to say it.
"Great! I'll see you soon," Sirius said and then he hung up.
The plastic mattress cover crinkled beneath him as he flopped onto his bed, chewing angrily at his lower lip and breathing heavily like he had somehow physically exerted himself over the course of the phone call.
"So this really is everything you brought," Barty mused from the other side of the room.
Regulus rolled to his back, more or less fuming, and spoke at the ceiling.
"I guess I just respect your space," he said through clenched teeth, making a slight at Barty's still overflowing bins taking up enough space for the both of them. He didn't admit there was nothing for him to bring, that he wouldn't have been able to rest with a single thing that reminded him of home.
"My space has nothing to do with your bed I'm afraid. Although—" Regulus's head dropped sideways and looked towards Barty, who was grinning for the first time since they met. "—I could be willing to change that."
He winked and Regulus scowled, though his heart began to race in chest.
"No, thanks," he said evenly and ignored the panic.
"Sure, sure. I was only kidding," he waved him casually off, "I do have extra sheets if you need some."
Regulus laid back and pushed the hair from his face. "It's fine," he grumbled, "my brother has some."
Regulus idled outside the front door of the apartment, a touch too long perhaps, but his limbs felt too heavy to use properly and he had a hell of a time trusting that his body had dragged him, ever begrudgingly, to the right address. Sirius had called the place 'nice' in his text earlier and after standing and staring at the stained stucco walls and pealing, red door paint, Regulus was confident, if he was in fact in the correct place, that they had very different definitions of the word.
After almost sixty seconds of anxiously waiting around for absolutely nothing, Regulus heard the unmistakable sound of Sirius's laugh through door. He took a deep breath and, unable to deny it any further, he raised his hand and knocked.
"It's open!" someone, who was decidedly not Sirius, called.
Regulus fought the urge to turn and leave and pretend he had the wrong place.I got lost, he heard himself saying.I'm directionally challenged, he could lie. Instead, he held his breath and pushed open the door. He caught Sirius mid-step, only a few feet away, radiating pure joy. He smiled as genuinely as he ever had and cried out.
"Reggie!"
He hurriedly closed the distance between the them, tugging Regulus into a hug and squeezing so tight he could only manage a pitiful, wheezing breath in.
Before Regulus could figure out what to do with his own hands, Sirius pulled back and gave him a good, long once over with a sideways grin. He reckoned he looked about as much older to Sirius as Sirius did to him. A little taller maybe, definitely more mature. Surprisingly, or maybeunsurprisingly, Sirius looked fuller now, healthier in all the ways that made him look less like a walking corpse. His wavy, black hair reached down to his collar bones; one side was tucked behind his ear and the other fell against his face.
"Look at you! We're practically the same height now," Sirius said, gripping Regulus's shoulders like a parent might do in a movie.
"We always were," he said, avoiding Sirius's pale eyes, distinctly uncomfortable with their proximity.
"Nah, never. You were definitely always shorter," he said, beaming. And then, "here, let me introduce you to Remus."
Remus was leaning casually against the half wall separating the small living room from the kitchen, his arms folded across his chest. Even slouching, Regulus could tell he was taller than him and Sirius by more than a few inches. He had sandy brown skin, sandier brown hair, and most notably, a thick white scar extending all the way across the bridge of his nose, running into his cheeks on either side.
"It's nice to meet you," he said warmly, extending a hand as soon as Regulus was close enough. "It's great to finally put a face to the name."
"His face is my face," Sirius interjected, "I've told you that."
Remus rolled his eyes. "Despite what you would have me believe, you two aren't carbon copies of each other."
Sirius stepped back and tilted his head from side to side, furrowing his brows, much like a confused dog might. Regulus gave him an icy stare and mock indifference, but he could feel both pairs of eyes on his face, on his body. The floor suddenly seemed as good a place as any to sink into. If only he could.
"Are you sure?" Sirius asked Remus.
"Positive."
"Damn," Sirius turned with a frown, his hand rubbing his chin. Regulus didn't know why it mattered in the first place but he didn't ask.
Remus looked down again at Regulus and smiled. "Can I get you anything to drink? We have water, tea, beer, coffee."
"No," he said without thinking.
"Great! Well, now that you two are such good friends, I'm off. I have a date," Sirius said with a wink and disappeared quickly behind one of the doors just inside a long, dark hallway to their left.
Regulus opened his mouth to protest but snapped it shut just as fast. He recognized the uselessness of calling after his estranged brother.Better to pretend this is normal than make things awkward,he thought to himself, turning numbly back towards Remus.
"It's not a date," he said, rolling his eyes and crossing into the kitchen, bidding Regulus to follow behind. "He has to register for a class. I've told him at least five separate times today and hestillput it off until the last minute."
A soft hum escaped Regulus's mouth. It was almost a relief to know noteverythingwas different, that Sirius's shortcomings were still as short as they had always been. After all, procrastinating was a particular strong suit of his growing up, right up until he left home.
"I've been putting this off foryoursake," he had yelled, all the while flinging piles of clothes into the open suitcase in the middle of the floor. "James has been begging me to stay with him since we met, Reg! I'mfinallygetting out of this fucking house."
"You can't just leave," Regulus had tried so desperately to insist.What about me, what about me, what about me?
"I can and I will."
"Did you settle into your dorm alright?" Remus asked over his shoulder and Regulus tumbled headfirst back into reality.
He crossed into the kitchen, leaned against the counter opposite of where Remus had settled, and frowned. He spun the silver ring on his thumb, over and over, twisting the memory out of his mouth.
"Well enough," he said. "It's only been a few hours."
Remus nodded. "Your dorm is in Slytherin, right? I hear the common rooms are dreary."
"Seems that way."
He shifted and studied Regulus's face for a moment, hazel green eyes leaving invisible trails on his skin. "I don't know a lot about your relationship with Sirius," they watched each other, both waiting on a reaction and both finding none, "but I was surprised you were willing to come tonight. You must be exhausted."
Regulus shrugged casually, despite feeling anything but. "It was either this or the store."
"We could have dropped this stuff off," Remus said and smiled again. The look was so disarming that Regulus almost stumbled forward at the sight of it. A circuit shorted in his brain.
His next words fell out of his mouth; he almost choked on them. "Sirius didn't give me that option."
Remus sighed and dropped his head. "I doubt you need me to tell you but Sirius can be an idiot sometimes, but he means well. He wouldn't have let you go the night without the stuff you need — even if you refused to come. Honestly, you probably could have cussed him out and blocked him and hestillwould have showed up. He's quite annoying like that."
The idea wrapped around Regulus's neck and tightened further and further until he couldn't breathe any longer. Remus seemed so sure, so convinced that was true, and yet, Regulus couldn't picture it, not now, not after his seventeenth birthday, not after he had let the phone ring and ring and ring.
"Sure," Regulus said to the floor.Not that it matters now.
Whether Remus picked up on Regulus's shift in mood or not, he trudged seamlessly onward without bringing it to attention.
"How's your roommate?"
"I don't know. Fine," he said but winced when he thought of the comments Barty had made earlier in the day.
"I guess it's probably too soon to tell. My first year, I had a roommate from hell. We didn't know Peter yet and, well, Sirius and James had already committed to sharing a dorm, so I was assigned someone random. Heneverleft our dorm, not when I was there at least. I don't think he went to class. If I came back later than 9pm, which was his bed time — apparently, he would berate me for hours like a little kid and no one did anything about it. The whole floor knew to steer clear of our little room. Sirius almost fought the kid once, he would have if James and Peter hadn't literally dragged him out of the building."
"Sounds rough," he said. "How'd you manage?" he asked, though he hardly cared for an answer.
"I spent a lot of nights crashing in Sirius and James's dorm. The three of us took up quite a bit of space but it all worked out in the end. Anyway, most roommates are more or less tolerable, you probably have nothing to worry about but I want you to know you're welcome here. If you need anything or want to get away, it's no bother. What is it James likes to say? Mi casa, su casa?"
Regulus narrowed his eyes.
"You don't know me," he said, as if it was some kind of accusation.
But, Remus only shrugged. "You're Sirius's brother. As far as any of us are concerned, you're family."
Family. It slammed into his sternum and knocked him back.Is that what this is?he sneered.
"You know, it's funny," Remus said, a half smile tugging on the corner of his mouth like he didn't just steal the air from Regulus's lungs, "you and Sirius do look a lot alike, but also, very different."
"He looks like our mother," Regulus murmured for some god forsaken reason.
The blood under his skin changed degrees in an instant, heat radiated from his cheeks and up into the tips of his ears. He frowned but Remus continued to smile at him with gentle eyes. Regardless, Regulus deeply regretted opening hisstupidmouth, reprimanding himself for it like a kid cursing in front of their parent.
"Don't tell him I said that," he added quickly, because no matter how true it was, he knew Sirius wouldn't want to be reminded of the parts that made him up, not that Regulus blamed him in the least — the image of their mother burned hot like an iron on skin, bubbling and sizzling and scarring for life.
"Don't tell me you saidwhat?" Sirius asked playfully, springing out of the hallway.
Regulus gave his brother a death glare, close to baring his teeth like an animal. *Across the kitchen, Remus waved his hand, popped open the fridge, and pulled out a drink.
"Moony," Sirius whined. "You can't already have secrets. I've been gone for two minutes!"
Remus gave Sirius a halfway smile, one teetering on the edge of a smirk, and cracked open the can bringing it to his lips.
Regulus, felt none of the joy these two did, instead his mind, body, and soul seemed glue to floor, unable to move or separate or exist without struggling.
"You were gone longer than two minutesandwe wouldn't have to keep secrets from you if you weren't so volatile."
"Volatile!"Sirius screeched.
There was a split second between when Sirius lunged for Remus and when they both broke out into giggles where Regulus's chest paralyzed with fear and some small, internal part of him chantedno, no, no.
Breathe, he told himself, choked on worry,just breathe. Air came surprisingly easy with fits of laughter as background noise.
"Hey,hey," Remus panted, holding both arms out in front of him. "Bad dog," he scolded and Regulus caught a goofy grin spread on his face, as if he already knew how Sirius would react before he did.
Sirius launched himself at Remus yet again. Hand in hand, they pushed back on each other, Sirius snarling and Remus laughing and losing ground until he was backed all the way up against the kitchen counter.
"Alright,alright," Remus said, ducking down and slipping out from where Sirius had him caged. "Go find something more useful to do with your time. I doubt Regulus wants to watch you attack me."
Sirius huffed dramatically and collapsed against the counter, grabbing Remus's drink and chugging it.
Regulus grimaced.Gross, he thought.
"Gross," Remus said.
"Don't start shit you can't finish." Sirius grinned and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Sure," Remus said, "go on, show Regulus around or something. Stop bothering me."
Sirius rolled his eyes and all the while, an unidentifiable feeling built and built and built in Regulus's chest. It deepened until it was as wide as his body and consuming entire chunks of him at a time. He swallowed it until it mutated into an idea, one that lead him out of this apartment, out of this state, out, out,out. Far away from here. Far away from Sirius. Far away.
"You alright, Reggie?"
Regulus snapped into reality. Sirius stood a few feet away, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted, almost like he was making a vicious attempt at mind reading and making some kind of progress.
"Fine," he said, and then he said it again, if only to convince himself of the same thing. "Yes. Fine."
Sirius nodded but the crease between his brows stayed firmly in place, even as he lead Regulus around the small apartment.
"Well, you've seen the living room and the kitchen and you know, this sorry excuse for a dining room," he said, motioning to the four seated table, crammed between the half wall of the kitchen and the rest of the living space. "Remus almost always cooks. James is great at it too but getting him to actually do it is like pulling teeth — your own teethand hisat the same time," he grumbled, rolling his eyes at some memory Regulus wasn't privy to. "Peter and I, well, really, we burn the things we touch and everyone's better offnoteating our food. We tend to be a bit air-headed, easily distracted, you understand."
Regulus nodded absently, following a few steps behind as Sirius lead him to the nearest door, adjacent to the one he disappeared into when he had first arrived. Unlike the rest of them, the door was just outside the hallway, opening up, almost directly into the living room.
"This is my room," he said, stepping through the threshold and bidding Regulus along.
On the outside, the room looked a lot like Regulus's dorm did, minus the roommate. A small bed took up space along the left wall and a small desk sat just opposite, below an open window that looked out into the parking lot and beyond. Clothes were strewn about the floor, the bed was unmade, and there was hardly any bare space on the walls for all the pictures, posters, and art. The dim room was lit by strands of twinkling lights and a desk lamp, neither which were bright enough to make much of a difference in the waning daylight.
Regulus took a deep breath and, by accident, discovered the worst part. Choked by unexpected nostalgia, he realized it smelled distinctly like Sirius always did, like lemons and lavender.And why wouldn't it?he thought. Still, he felt overwhelmingly childlike swaying in the middle of his big brother's room. It was all too close to his one at home, to the one Regulus spent weeks sleeping in after Sirius's departure in some desperate attempt to be closer to him again.
He found there was a deep ache where comfort should have been.
Regulus managed to sound normal, despite it all. "Nice."
Sirius hummed. "So," he said, "how were things at home?"
Regulus froze in place, glad to have his back to Sirius. He took a second to let emotion ripple across his features, before he wiped it away and spun to gaze at his brother.
"Fine." It forced out of his mouth like a habit.Fine, fine, fine.
Sirius blinked evenly at him a few times and Regulus tried to forget he used to do this when they were little. Back then, when Regulus couldn't keep anything a secret. Back then, when he wanted to tell his big brother everything. Back then, when Sirius didn't even have to ask, he'd just have to look.
"Did something happen?" he asked after a few bare seconds of uncomfortable silence.
Full of venom, Regulus's eyes snapped to Sirius's.
"No," he hissed. "Why would you think that?"
Sirius sighed and twisted and looked anywhere except his face.
"Brotherly intuition?" he landed on.
Ha.
"Yeah," Regulus said, and he had one hell of a time keeping a certain bitterness from leaking into his tone. "Well, nothing happened," he lied.
Doubt streaked across Sirius's face and his shoulders drew close to his body like he'd been scolded. "Right. Come on, there's more to see."
Regulus followed silently behind, not paying much attention to the glances Sirius and Remus shared between themselves as they passed again through the common area, and into the hallway. Sirius recovered before they made it through the next door.
"This is Moony's room." He smiled happily and charged in like he owned the place, collapsing onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling.
Feeling profoundly like he'd be intruding, Regulus held firm under the door frame and wondered who the hell Moony was.
"You can come in," Sirius said, popping up on his elbows.
Regulus shook his head. "I'm fine, actually."
"He has no manners," Remus murmured to him, stalking up into the threshold. He rolled his eyes. "Get out of my bed, Sirius!" he half shouted, though nothing about it sounded much like the way their mother used to shout at them.
"But you love it when I'm in your bed," Sirius said and then he winked.
Sticking his tongue out, Regulus made an exaggerated gagging noise.
"Always a bother." Remus shook his head in disappointment. "Hurry and finish your tour. Peter will be home with dinner soon."
"Oh, wait! Have you heard from James?" Sirius asked, and for reasons, unbeknownst to Regulus, the atmosphere shifted before the name made it fully out of his mouth. Remus stiffened and the amusement leaked out of Sirius's face.
"Not since this morning. You should check on him."
Sirius leapt from the bed.
"He's been fighting with his girlfriend," he said under his breath as soon as he was close enough. "He really wants to meet you. I was hoping having you come over would coax him out of his room but…"
"It might be too soon," Remus agreed before Sirius could finish.
A funny feeling built in the back of Regulus's throat.
"Come on," Sirius said, passing Regulus and heading down the hall. "Let's finish our tour."
He met Peter just after Sirius disappeared alone into the final door of the apartment, the one at the furthest end of the hallway and across from the bathroom. Peter barreled through the front door, panting and sweating and tossing his belongings onto different surfaces throughout the apartment, all the while balancing three pizza boxes on one arm. He smiled proud and when he spoke, he shouted. His hair was a dusted blonde and though he was shorter than Regulus, he was stockier by a lot —not the kind of guy I'd want to get in a fight with,he thought, not that he often made a habit out of that particular pastime.
He didn't speak much to Regulus directly, instead opting to drone on and on about somebrilliantbrunette he met walking home and honestly, Regulus might have liked him more for it. Sure he was annoying and borderline self centered but any attention not on Regulus was good attention.
Remus helped Peter set the boxes down and the two of them set the table together while Regulus hovered around like a ghost, watching and listening but unable to interact. Sirius appeared a few minutes later, shaking his head sadly when asked if James would be joining them. Then, without much fanfare, they sat for dinner.
"So, what's your major?" Peter asked, shoveling pizza into his mouth like a bear after hibernation. His jaw clicked with each bite.
Regulus adjusted the napkin next to his plate. "I'm undeclared," he said, voice level but otherwise painfully aware of all three pairs of eyes dissecting him.Stop looking.
"What does that mean?"
Regulus gave a confused sigh and next to him, Remus shook his head.
"It means I haven't decided," he said slowly.
"Oh!" Peter said, and to his credit, he seemed genuinely surprised. "You are enrolled though, right?"
This time, both Remus and Sirius groaned in unison. Then, as Remus spoke, Sirius picked up his beer and chugged it, frowning the whole way.
"Honestly, Pete," Remus said.
"What?What?"
"He's enrolled, he just hasn't declared a major. You're allowed to wait a year or two. And don't talk with food in your mouth," Remus snapped.
Peter rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue, before snatching two more pieces from the boxes laid in the center of the table and tossing them onto his plate.
On Regulus's own plate, sat an untouched piece of pizza. He poked at it with his finger, coating his skin in a thick layer of grease. Then, he tore at the crust, and took a small bite from the edge.
"Well, what do you want to major in then?" Peter asked.
Regulus shrugged and tore further at his food.
"I haven't given it much thought," he said, not meeting anyone's eyes.
"None at all?" Sirius spoke for the first time since they sat down to eat. He had leaned back against the back of the dining chair, his arms crossed over his chest. Regulus blinked once and saw a brief outline of his mother there instead, frowning and judging and never once happy. He clenched his fist and shivered.
"No," he said but still, he caught Sirius's curiosity swirling around his head, begging —demandingto know more. "What?" he challenged.
"Nothing."
"Say it."
"I have nothing to say," Sirius said, but Sirius with hisgoddamnedsmug face was a filthy liar.
Regulus breathed out of his nose and backed down with a sneer. "Fine."
Next to him, Remus cleared his throat and Sirius seemed to finally remember where he was. The arrogant look on his face dissipated, the snide comment hiding under his tongue dried up. His face softened as he turned to Remus.
"Did you get into that class?" Remus asked lightly and Sirius rolled his eyes.
"Yes, yes. I told you I would!"
"Which time?"
"Huh?" Sirius asked, furiously blinking like he had something in his eyes. "What?"
"You heard me."
"Well —" he rubbed the back of his neck and Regulus knew he was guilty — whatever it was, he was guilty.
"Sirius," Remus warned and Peter snickered.
"It was the 8am one, wasn't it?" Peter said with a bark of a laugh, earning a kick from Sirius under the table which landed with a resounding thump. "Ow! Lay off the violence, would ya?"
"Good grief," Remus mumbled, leaning back until his head was level with the off-white ceiling. He covered his eyes with his forearm.
"Good grief," Sirius repeated playfully, "what are you a grade school teacher?"
Remus grunted and peaked over at Regulus. "He's miserable in the mornings," he said, as if he was letting Regulus in on some kind of secret, as if Regulus wasn't alreadyintimatelyfamiliar with Sirius's character flaws.
It was true, Sirius was never grumpier than he was before 8am. He would fight tooth and nail to continue laying in bed and sleeping. No fight was too small to have when he was in that state. The only exception was when Regulus would wake him, in the smallest hours before dawn, when the sky was only hinting at deep blue, and he was heaving and crying and unable to breathe right. He was never angry then, never grumpy or on edge. Instead, he was soft, maybe the softest he ever was. He would pull open the covers, slide over and make room for Regulus to lay with him. He'd whisper stories from school, tall tales his friends had told him or pranks they had pulled off together until one of them fell asleep, snoring softly until morning.
He hated that his idea of familial love somehow always wandered back into Sirius's bedroom.
"It'll beok. It's only three times a week."
"I'm not waking you up," Remus chided and Peter firmly agreed, grabbing his empty plate and Sirius's almost full one and vacated the table.
"I'll just have Pro—"
"Don't youdarefinish that sentence," Remus snarled. "He'll do it for you, you know he will. Don't punish him because of your inability to complete a basic task on time despite a thousandpersonalreminders."
For what felt like the tenth time that night, Regulus froze in place, bracing himself for Sirius to yell or shout or storm out of the room. But it never came, instead, Sirius was grinning, resting a hand on his chin and batting his eyelashes.
"Oh Moony, I love it when you talk dirty to me."
Regulus's eyebrows shot up in surprise and, at the same time, Remus dropped his arm and scowled.
"I'm not kidding."
Sirius let his head hit the table. He pressed his cheek to the empty spot left by his plate and groaned.
"Are you finished? I'll take that if you are," Peter said, standing at the end of the table, already holding Remus's plate.
Regulus looked down, embarrassed by the mess he'd made by picking his food apart instead of actually eating it, but he wasn't all that hungry and Sirius hadn't eaten much either.
"Yes, but I can take care of it," he tried but Remus plucked it out of his hands, not even turning to look.
"Don't worry about it," Peter called over his shoulder, making the short trek into the kitchen, stomping the whole way. "It's my turn to do the dishes and it's not like James is here, so you're not making life any harder."
Regulus grumbled under his breath though, when his attention returned to his brother and Remus, he found them staring at each other, not speaking or blinking — just watching. To his surprise, Sirius broke first.
"Listen Moony, you're right, I might have — maybe —definitelyfucked up. I'll keep an eye on it, someone's bound to drop out of the later session this week."
Somehow, Regulus kept from gawking at the whole interaction, but just barely. The reaction sat below the surface of his skin, begging to get out, to make a big deal, to dosomething. Sirius didn't admit fault. Ever.
He stood then, stretching, having heard more than enough for the night.
"I need to get back," he said. "I still need to make my bed and everything."
"Oh! I'll walk you!" Sirius said, jumping up from his seat.
"It's fine," Regulus tried, attempting to wave him off gently by gathering his things and heading for the door.
Unfortunately, Sirius bound up behind him anyway and pressed.
"Come on Reggie, it's late and—"
A hand dropped on his shoulder and Regulus flinched.
"Don't," Regulus interrupted with a snarl. "Just," he sighed, shaking off the hand, "don't."
They stared at each other for a longing second, Regulus desperate to keep his face still and emotionless and Sirius hopelessly begging to understand, to see, to explain. But Regulus wasn't ready.
"Right," he said softly and with little resolve. "Get home safe."
"Text Sirius when you get back, would you?" Remus called from the kitchen.
Regulus took a deep breath, looked at each one of them, and then, after finding himself without any words, he turned and headed out the door.
On the first Friday of the year, with heat streaming impossibly through the cracked window and a deafening thump of bass permeating through the floor, Regulus woke, annoyed and remarkably on edge. He rolled out of bed, grunting as his feet hit floor. He glanced across the room and saw Barty who, restless as ever, tossed and turned but didn't wake up, despite.
Regulus ground his teeth, a surge of unreasonable jealously working its way through his bones. He could never,neverhope to sleep as well as that, even under the best circumstances. The past three nights he spent lying awake, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, wishing that the little air conditioning unit beneath their window wouldstopmaking the same godawful whine everysingletime it shivered to life. He found himself missing the silence of his house, even if the quiet had often been filled with dread.
He rubbed his eyes, yawned, stretched, and attempted desperately to shake the sleep from his body. It didn't have any effect and he figured being perpetually tired could be added to the growing list of his shitty personality traits. Quietly (unnecessarily so), he padded to his desk and dropped into the chair.
Who, in their right mind, would be playingmusicat seven in the morning, he thought incredulously, rubbing at his temples and sneering at nothing.
A thousand disjointed and angry curses flew through his head. Enough of his mental capacity was diminished by it, that he had to sit motionless and seethe for a few minutes before he could stomach anything else. Eventually though, for better or worse, he moved on and got started on his morning.
Ten minutes before his second class started, Regulus wandered into the stony building, ever thankful for central air conditioning, as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He followed the crowd of students weaving through building and arrived to a commotion choking the door of his classroom.
Regulus heard him long before he saw him, his laugh carrying out of the lecture hall and spilling into the hallway. Curious, Regulus pushed into the room, his eyes easily finding the new face, the voice; they were all attached to a whirlwind of curly, dark brown hair, tanned skin, and gold framed glasses. He sat with his feet kicked up on the desk in the front of the room, grinning at a girl with golden hair and a miniskirt. She spoke softly to him, her cheeks blushing a dusty pink color.
What was once a rowdy class on Wednesday, had somehow morphed into subdued silence, each person either whispering quietly to their neighbors or keeping to themselves. Every pair of eyes watched the front of the room. The boy didn't give any indication that he disliked the attention, nor did he spend any time acknowledging the disparity he caused.
Scowling at the display, Regulus found his way to the upper back edge of the classroom, dropping into a chair and leaning back. He watched as one kind of insecurity or another spread from person to person as they trickled into the room.
"He was an athlete," a girl said to him, setting a single notebook on the desk adjacent to Regulus's. She didn't have a bag or even a pencil.
He watched as she settled into the chair.
"Who?" he asked.
"That boy you keep staring at."
"I'm not staring."
She sighed and leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, two dark braids hanging down around her face, the rest pulled up in a half updo.
"I don't know a single soul who isn't smitten with that boy. He's like sunshine," she said.
Regulus followed her line of sight, all the way tohim. He was smiling, laughing — radiating even. And, he was becoming increasingly swarmed by students, acting more like pests than people, buzzing around to get any word in, no matter what it was.
"What about you?" he asked.
"What about me?" she repeated, sitting up straight and bracing her hands against the edge of the desk, pushing until the bottom of her should blades were pressed flush against the back of her chair.
"Are you smitten?"
She let out a bellow of a laugh. "Not my type," she said after calming herself, "I'm not really into men, and even if Iwere, it wouldn't be ones that bright. I hate competition."
Regulus hummed a response and let the conversation lull into silence, just as the professor strode distractedly into the room.
"Welcome, welcome, sorry I'm—" the rest of his words died on his lips. He paused, mid-step, staring critically at the scene in front of him like a disappointed father searching for the source of his son's audacity. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. "You never cease to be a distraction, do you?"
The boy grinned and dropped his feet to the floor while the group around him snapped out of their bewilderment and scurried off towards the remaining open seats.
"It's why you keep me around," he said loudly, his voice surprisingly husky, as if he had recently awoken from a nap. Still, it carried across the space, seeming to occupy every inch of it.
"You'll be respectful of school property or you won't allowed in my classroom."
"Understood, professor," he said, placing his hands casually behind his head.
"Let's get started," the professor said, setting a tattered backpack down on the desk and turning his attention to the full and disconcertingly quiet class. "First things first, as I'm sure many of you have noticed, we have a new face in the classroom. This is James. He'll be the teacher's assistant for this class. He's in charge of grading, tutoring, and being a general thorn in my side. Trust me when I say he's here foryourbenefit and not mine, so please use him. Wear him out for all I care." He threw James a sideways glance who responded by smiling even wider. "Might as well introduce yourself."
"Sure thing," he said, hopping up and taking his place at the center of the room. "As you've just heard, my name is James. I'm a junior here, a computer science major and I've taken this classtwice, which means I'm more than qualified to be here. I'll be setting up permanent office hours starting sometime next week — you'll know the times as soon as I do. I'm here to help, so please, let me know if you—" his eyes scanned the crowd, just then passing over Regulus and all of a sudden, he choked on his words. He cleared his throat, coughed into his fist, and hesitated, slightly more red in the face than he was moments before.
Like a deer in headlights, Regulus froze as a strange look danced across James's face. Robotically, he turned his head to the other corner of the room. "Excuse me," he said, obviously fighting to regain composure. "Let me know if you need anything." His eyes trailed back and lingered briefly. "Uh — that's all."
He rushed back to his seat and popped open his laptop.
"Shit, do you know him?" the girl next to him asked in a hushed whisper.
Regulus glanced sideways at her. "I don't think so."
"Weird," she said, and really Regulus couldn't disagree.
"Maybe he was looking at you," he offered but she shook her head quickly.
"No way."
"Well James," the professor cut in after a long beat of silence, "that was — insightful."
With that, the lights switched off, and the projector switched on. Throughout the hour, Regulus found himself utterly distracted, eyes flickering back and forth between the powerpoint and James's dimly lit face. He thought, just maybe, James's eyes were periodically drawn to the back of the room, tohim, but he couldn't be sure, not from so far away. In the end, he distracted himself with lazy note-taking, most sentences falling off into useless scribbles.
"That's all we have time for today, folks. Hand James your signed syllabus and grab your assignment on the way out. Email him first if you have any questions and I'll see you all Monday."
The girl next to Regulus shot up and ran down the stairs of the lecture hall taking them two at a time.
"See ya," she called over her shoulder before slamming her syllabus down in front of a startled James. He gave her a shocked grin and placed the assignment in her open hands, watching curiously as she bound out of the room.
Regulus lingered behind, taking his time shoving the small notebook into his bag, all to avoid the crushing crowd of students that had moved to the front of the room, dragging and piling up around James. A not-so-quiet chatter infested the space. Regulus waited for close to five minutes before the group finally began to fizzle out, much to the impatience of the professor, who stood with his hands on his hips, frowning at the display.
"Oh — hi!" James practically squeaked, as if he wasagainstunned by Regulus's presence.
"Hi," Regulus said, peering through reflective glass frames and meeting deep brown, almost auburn eyes.
A few moments passed between them, neither saying anything, and some kind ofstupidchildlike rage built behind Regulus's chest. A group of girls behind him giggled, their presence too loud, too invasive,too distinct. He turned to look at them, and half expected to find them pointing and laughing at Regulus. They weren't.
He shot James and incredulous look, though it didn't seem to matter to him; he smiled all the same. "So listen," he said,finallygetting on with it, "I —"
"James, keep the line moving. You can make friends later," the professor interrupted exactly three words in.
Annoyance ripped across James's face.
"Sir, it's just that—"
"Yes, I'm well aware James. It'spreciselyhow I know you'll haveplentyof time later. The next class needs this room in two minutes.Keep the line moving."
With bare hands, Regulus held his nerves in place, eyes passing between the two. He frowned, hopefully letting thembothknow exactly how he felt about being the topic of their cryptic conversation and a point of contention. Giving James yet another icy look, he placed the syllabus down in front of him and waited expectantly.
"Ah — here," James said, speaking softly for the first time since class began. He candidly placed a sheet of paper within Regulus's grasp and kept his eyes cast downward.