Mastermind

Don't Let Me Drown

Warning: There might be a reference to self-harm in this. Like, it's more a metaphor I think. No one actually performs self-harm though. But it is there if you squint and I think I'm thus obligated to warn you. If you want to skip it, skip the Quidditch practice

___

Who will fix me now?
Dive in when I'm down?
Save me from myself
Don't let me drown
Who will make me fight?
Drag me out alive?
Save me from myself
Don't let me drown
- Drown by Bring me the Horizon

Regulus sits in his dorm, brooding over his Herbology notes. James has written on them, little tips and thoughts and smiley faces.

Evan and Barty are lying in Barty's bed. Their shoulders are pressed together while they are working on their homework. Well, Evan is working, Barty is staring at him with a dopey smile on his face.

Regulus has not confronted them about this yet, and honestly, he doesn't plan to. They are his friends, they will either tell him or start dry-humping right in front of him soon. Either way, he will know.

Regulus wonders, whether Barty has seduced Evan the way he has told him to. Or maybe Evan didn't need so much seducing. He isn't sure how it has started at all. He is glad for them, though. He is glad for himself too, knowing neither of his dormmates will have a word to say against him preferring men – they do, however, have words against him trying to seduce a Gryffindor of all people. They have a lot of words against that.

Regulus gets up from his bed. He needs to go to Quidditch practice.

"You've been sitting with the mudblood and the scarred halfblood again," Barty says when he moves, "I've heard this through the grapevine – which means, people start to talk. Do we have to worry about you, Reggie?"

"Don't call me Reggie. And, No. I'm not doing that of my own volition. Potter drags them with him."

Barty looks over to him, "You could stop seeing Potter, too. Then you'd be rid of the whole lot of them."

"I have a plan," Regulus reminds him (and himself), "I'm just being my evilest sinister self, Barty, don't worry."

Barty nods, "You better be. We can't have you catching feelings for him."

"I'm just doing it to keep him away from Sirius. He's like a lost puppy without James," a wicked little grin finds its way on his face, "You should see how agitated he gets when James and I talk."

Barty grins back, "Good. Have your fun with it. We will have a little party when you break his heart and leave both of them behind shattered on the ground."

Regulus smiles, nods, and leaves.

The smile falls outside.

Quidditch practice is going well. These are his favourite 90 minutes of every week. He is here, instead of the library with James. Quidditch is less exhausting than being with him. It revitalises him in a way. He sits up above the pitch on his broom and overlooks the grounds, the quidditch field, the stands, the cold, pale grass and the black lake.

It is quite a beautiful sight. It used to be his favourite sight in the world.

He still likes it. But it just doesn't feel the same.

"Hey, Black!" his team captain calls, "Get your ass down here, just because you're a seeker, doesn't mean you can skip the exercises."

Regulus dives down towards them.

Diving down is one of his new favourite things. It used to terrify him. If you tip the broom too far, it feels like you are in freefall, head-first to the ground.