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𝕽egulus quickly peers over his shoulder, checking the coast is clear, before slipping through the door.
The stiff, alder door that his twelve year old self, naturally bright and unfailingly curious, had stumbled across during one of his exploring of Hogwarts castle. Unlike other hidden rooms, secret passage ways and forgotten hideouts he'd discovered, this one he visits on a frequent basis, unable to forget the mystery inside. Sometimes the visits were awfully short, abandoned with a sharp slam of the door. Sometimes the visits were regrettably lengthy, every minute like a grain of sand in an hour glass, adding to the heavy weight of his melancholy heart.
Because Regulus likes to that to himself on those sometimes, likes to torment himself in a way that his parents never could with their contemptible curses and despicable words. This was a different kind of torture that he indulges in.
The torture of his own mind.
Exhaling deeply, he strides right towards what's evilly beckoning his name, deciding against small footsteps to work himself up to it. No need, he might as well just dive right in to the cold, dark deep end. And just like every single visit, the awfully short and the regrettably lengthy, the same thing happens. The impossible becomes possible. The far-fetched becomes credible. One becomes two. Strangers become brothers again.
Sirius joins him step, close enough to playfully bump shoulders as Regulus has seen him do with James Potter more times than he can count. But Potter isn't here right now, making Sirius grin that stupidly soul-lifting, heart-mending, genuine grin. Potter isn't the one that's making him laugh that silly barking laugh, the one where his chest puffs out and his head throws back, whipping his silky raven locks all over the place. Regulus is. Regulus' heart is. Regulus' poor, mean heart.
Regulus' poor, mean heart that knows if roles were reversed, if Sirius was the one standing before this ancient, ornate mirror with strange clawed feet and a cobwebbed golden frame, he wouldn't be seeing the same thing. Because what Sirius' heart desires the uttermost is the preservation of his new family, the one he abandoned Regulus for and never looked back. Fun and foolish James Potter, stupid and spineless Pettigrew and most importantly, intelligent and incredible Remus Lupin.
Sirius would choose them in a heartbeat — did choose them in a heartbeat. He'd probably choose the kind, loving Potter parents and chic, ruling Gryffindor girls next too, bumping Regulus right down the list. A slimy and sly Slytherin, unworthy of the bold and brave lionheart's consideration. Regulus scoffs, ducking away from the figurative leather-clad arm casually slinging across his shoulders.
This would definitely fall into the awfully short, ending with a sharp slam of the door visit category.
"Comment peux-tu être si facilement libre de moi, alors que je ne serai jamais libre de toi?" Regulus grunts darkly as the door shuts behind him, fists clenched and jaw squared.
"Je n'ai pas compris ça. Répéter?"
Regulus stiffened, every muscle in his body turning cold as ice as hears the distinctive, perfected French of the one that incessantly plagues him.
Pale gaze narrowing, he watches as Sirius slips something that looks like a many-times folded piece of parchment in his back pocket and closes the distance between them. He stares for a long second, battling his heart's wish to shuffle near enough that their shoulders happen to nudge like the Mirror of Erised had just shown him. No. That was Potter's place now, not his.
"J'ai de la classe" Regulus says gruffly, turning away.
Unfortunately, he doesn't get very far, not very far at all, the ring embellished hand clamping around his arm preventing him from doing so. Upon instinct, Regulus turns back to Sirius, immediately cursing himself when he sees the almost determined gleam in his eyes.
"C'est dans cette direction que je me dirige. Je marcherai avec toi" Sirius offers, making Regulus pull a face, remarking back,
"I didn't say which class, you don't know which way i'm heading"
Sirius shrugs, lips twitching the faintest bit in the corners, "I'll still walk with you"
And because Regulus likes to torment himself, he doesn't banish him like he probably should. He just walks on, allowing Sirius to follow in his ridiculous swagger that makes girls tumble to the floor in a faint. For the first two corridors and flight of stairs it's plain silent, safe for their pattering feet and light breaths. It's when they're waiting for the next staircase to move that Sirius finally decides that he'll talk,
"So, you and Romie fancy each other a bit then?"
Ah, there it is. Regulus understands now. That's why he's here, he's gone out of his way to search for him and walk him to class. Because Romie doesn't give two shits about their request to stay away from him, they've gone for Plan B.
Regulus peers ahead, nose scrunching up at the portrait of the Fat Lady nearby, screeching like a feral cat in heat. She hasn't won over Sirius' attention, no, he's quite content to stare at Regulus. So Regulus offers what he can only offer in regards to Romie Lupin.
"She's quite the girl"
"The girl?" Sirius wonders, emphasising the as though Regulus has already made his mind up he's going to marry the elfin bitch.
He quickly schools the horrified expression spreading across his face at the mere prospect of having that reincarnated model of Medusa for life, going for something more neutral, more impassive instead.
"Don't put words in my mouth. We're not all like Potter, planning our whole weddings at age eleven for the first girl we lay eyes on" He mutters, hearing Sirius' sharp intake of breath as though refraining himself from firing away.
"Don't — don't say his name like he's this destroying acid in your mouth" Sirius warns lowly, taking another inhale when Regulus merely licks his lips and murmurs,
"There is a rather bitter taste lingering now you mention it. Strange, it wasn't there until you appeared"
At his sides, Sirius' hands start to curl up in response to the rising levels of temper inside. He shakes his head, just once, but it's sharp and harsh and Regulus can tell that the lecture of how awful he is, is coming shortly,
"You're always like this. So—"
"Churlish? Obnoxious? Insolent? Mannerisms are learnt, Sirius, who do you think I learnt it from?" Regulus interjects, halting in the corridor they just turned into to face him.
He hadn't realised until now that the inches his older brother had on him, he'd caught up to in the years they've been distant, that now, Regulus is actually a hair curl or two taller. Not much, yet enough to confirm. Sirius' lower lip trembles, out of anger or ruefulness, Regulus doesn't exactly know, but he can guess they're hand in hand. He swallows, swallows down his natural impulse to bark something back, instead whispering, low and quiet,
"You shouldn't keep seeing Romie"
A sour smile stretched across Regulus' lips, embracing the bitterness ripe on his tongue, "Is that because you believe i'll corrupt her or because i've got to my Lupin first and you can't cope with that?"
Sirius' face drained of all colour, eyes flashing with a little panic as though he's a man just been found out. Regulus' head tilts, a rather mocking gesture that he just couldn't help himself from doing.
"I don't — Remus and I are just friends" Sirius mutters, an unconvincing little thing, his entire face telling a completely different story.
Regulus nods in understanding, "Right, so that's not the problem. I'm the problem. You think i'm going corrupt her. You want to know what I think?"
The Gryffindor's arms firmly cross over his chest, retorting back, "No. But I know you're going to tell me anyway"
Damn right, Regulus was. Ten points to Gryffindor.
"I think these controlling little interventions you keep making in her life, it's like feeding a volcano. And eventually, she's going to erupt and you're going to wish you hadn't meddled. Because, Sirius, lava's fucking fast and blazing hot and there's no outrunning it"
As he finished, tone low and blunt, Sirius' eyes grew slightly wide, knowing that's not much of a far-fetched possibility when it comes down to Romie Lupin and her fiery personality. Regulus leans that little bit closer, close enough that Sirius can, plain as day, recognise the sincerity swirling in his eyes for what he says next,
"And, I, for one, am looking forward to the show"
With that, sharply, he swivels on his heels, continuing on to the DADA he's running late for. Not that incompetent and useless Professor Lightfoot will notice, she's probably well within her habitual nap by now, allowing everyone to do as they wish.
"He's not doing it to be a dick"
Regulus stops abruptly, heels traitorously digging into the stone floor to prevent him from going any further. He peers over his shoulder, noticing that Sirius hadn't made the effort this time to catch up, that, maybe, this time, he was going to have be the one that goes to him.
"What?" He mumbles, studying the way Sirius shuffles on his feet and open and closes his hands, debating on whether this is something he should delve into right now.
He must come to his conclusion quickly, because then he's opening his mouth again, imploring Regulus to listen, to not perceive Remus to be the big, bad wolf he thinks he is.
"Remus, he's not doing it to be a dick, Regulus. There's things — things in their past that make him act that way" Sirius tells carefully.
Regulus nods impatiently, waving a hand, "I know, their father packed up and left—"
Sirius is swift to cut him off, head shaking vigorously, reeling the Slytherin in further when he explains in the best way possible without revealing secrets that aren't his to reveal.
"No. It's not something as simple as him leaving them. It goes way deeper than that. And sometimes, for Remus, the wounds still feel fresh and that's why he acts that way"
Regulus stand silently, processing the words of his older brother. He thinks of the brother-sister duo, of how at certain times, they can barely look at each other, like it physically hurts to even take a glimpse. How at other times, they're as close as two people can get, needing to be touching or else all of hell would break loose. He thinks of Romie Lupin's rare, extraordinary eyes of violet, and Remus Lupin's mysterious ivory scars that undoubtedly cover him from head to toe. He thinks of the strange label and instructions for soothing ointment creams he'd embraced his inner Slytherin and slyly stolen from Romie earlier in the year.
Things in their past, things that go way deeper than what it looks like on the surface.
Sirius can obviously see the gears turning in his brain, his spirit of inquiry coming to life brighter than ever, because he's hurriedly talking again,
"That's not me telling you to go and stick your nose into their business, Regulus. If Romie wants to, when she's ready and only when she's ready, she might tell you. Until then, not a fucking word"
He points a stern finger in his direction, eliciting a harsh scoff from Regulus, batting his finger out of his face,
"Fuck off. You have no right to tell me what I can and can't do. If you want that, I suggest you go and find your new brother"
He spits it just as Sirius forewarned him against, spits it like lovely and brilliant James Potter is destroying acid in his mouth, burning away the tissue and muscle that make up his tongue. Sirius' eyes darken, transforming into a solid ring of charcoal, melting into his pupil. Regulus doesn't stick around for what pathetic defending he has to offer, for the very last time, turning on his heels and storming away to class.
Brothers becoming strangers again.
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God, I love the way this chapter turned out! The Black brothers relationship is so unbelievably complex, I hope that i'm doing it justice so far 💜