The Story of Regulus Black - Years 5-7

LV. Thestrals

CW: homophobic slurs & suicidal thoughts

Regulus Black returned to his dorm room on the day of Quidditch tryouts with a towel draped over his shoulder and hair hanging in damps clumps around his head.

He had hopped into the shower as soon as he and Barty had reached the school, wanting to get rid of all of the sweat and grime that had built up on his skin during tryouts. It had been a rather quick shower, just a quick wash of his skin and his hair as he avoided the sight of his left forearm at all costs. After he had gotten out of the shower, he had dried himself off and thrown back on the jumper and pair of trousers that he had been wearing before, and he set off to the dorm room so that he could meet Barty in there.

Though, as he entered the dorm room, he discovered that Barty wasn't there at all.

Theodore Travers looked up from his bed, staring at Regulus blankly for a moment before turning back to the parchment in his lap. Regulus looked at Travers, staring at him for a few brief and quiet moments before he turned to his bed and tossed his towel into the laundry hamper in the corner of the room.

"Wow, look at that, you're finally in the dorm room. Put it in the fucking history books," muttered Regulus, unsure why he had spoken at all.

Travers merely rolled his eyes from his bed. "Crouch asked me to tell you to meet him in the common room."

Regulus disregarded this statement for the moment, intending to come back to it later. He turned to Travers and put his hands on his hips, staring at him through suspicious and narrowed eyes. "Why are you and Rosier never in the dorm? What are you guys, shagging in the bathroom or something?"

"Rosier's not the one I'm shagging, Black." He looked up from his paper. "I spend all of my time with my girlfriend."

Regulus choked out a laugh. "You have a girlfriend? A girl is voluntarily dating you?"

"Yes, Black, she is. I dunno where Rosier goes all day, but he's certainly not with me and her." He paused for a moment before narrowing his own eyes. "Why do you care?"

"I don't care, I just think it's suspicious."

Travers sighed and then turned to his paper. "Why do you spend so much time in the dorm with Crouch? Are you guys shagging?"

Regulus felt his cheeks burn crimson. "No. Why would I be shagging Barty? We're just friends, and I'm not gay."

Travers hummed quietly. "Rosier sure thinks you are."

"Ok, well I don't fucking care what Rosier thinks of me. He's probably gay." Regulus pursed his lips after the words had left his mouth, hoping that Travers didn't catch on to the fact that he was lying through his teeth (well, technically he wasn't. He and Barty weren't shagging because Barty didn't love Regulus back, and he wasn't gay. What had Phoebe called him? Bisexual? He was bisexual, not gay).

Travers snorted out a laugh. "I wouldn't be surprised, honestly."

Regulus's brows pulled together in the middle. "Huh?"

"I mean, trust me, I don't like faggots either. But Rosier is just a bit too persistent about it, and you're right, he disappears quite a lot."

Regulus clenched his jaw at the sound of the slur that was said, feeling a bit of anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach but not wanting to give away what he was hiding. "Yeah, well, both he and you are free to leave whenever you want. Not like I want either of you in here."

Travers raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, well, you're lucky that I don't wanna be in here then. Works out for both of us."

Regulus nodded curtly. "Yeah, it does." He was already crossing the room toward the door, wanting to go and hang out with the one person in the world who Regulus actually didn't mind (that was the biggest understatement of Regulus's life). "See you next year I guess."