When the professors at Hogwarts decide to roll in a new assignment for the prefects, Regulus is tasked with writing an essay on an impossible topic. Some have to write about their pets, others have to discuss their favourite book. Instead of something simple, he has to write about the person who raised him. Oh, and then he has to present his essay to the whole school.
Regulus doesn’t know how he’ll find a single positive thing to say about his parents. Walburga and Orion aren’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type. He’s quite sure he’s doomed, until a chance meeting with his brother brings forth a humbling realisation.
[Or, Regulus writes about the person who raised him, Sirius is trying his best and James is a good boyfriend]
____________________________
When Slughorn requested all Slytherin prefects to go to Professor McGonagall’s office after dinner, Regulus wasn’t concerned. This wasn’t the first prefect meeting. There were usually a few throughout the year and as a sixth year, he was used to attending the boring meetings when McGonagall asked them about their rounds and if there were any incidents that they felt needed extra attention. Last year, a sixth year prefect from Hufflepuff loudly declared that she was sick of finding the showers rigged with different coloured dye. Remus Lupin, the sixth year Gryffindor prefect, looked perfectly innocent as he nodded along with her plight. This year was likely to be far more dull considering Potter and Evans were the Head Bot and Head Girl this year. Potter wouldn’t know subtlety if it whacked him with a beater’s bat.
At least Regulus would get a chance to ogle James Potter, the horribly fit bastard.
Regulus wound his arm around Pandora’s as they left for McGonagall’s office together. She wasn’t a Slytherin, but she was the Ravenclaw prefect for her year, so it made sense to go together. They arrived early, only a few fifth years were waiting outside McGonagall’s door, all looking shifty and nervous. Ah, to be so young and naïve. They probably thought this was a reprimand considering it was the first prefect meeting of the year (the one on the train hardly counted since no teachers were present).
They entered McGonagall’s office at her summons and waited on the chairs dotted around the room. Regulus sat with Pandora by his side and wondered how long this meeting would take. He had an Ancient Runes assignment to be doing.
As usual, Potter was the last one to enter, a broad smile on his handsome face and sweat beading on his dark brown skin. His round glasses were askew and a wrinkled stack of parchment was clutched in his hands. “My humblest apologies, Minnie! Found the rounds sheets you were looking for. Sorry about the mess. My dog chewed on them a bit.”
McGonagall stared at him imperiously, taking the parchments as if they were toxic. True to his word, large bite marks were pierced through the parchments as well as specks of dog slobber. He watched McGonagall sigh deeply before instructing him to sit. Potter dropped into the seat beside Regulus, sending him a wink. Regulus proceeded to sniff haughtily. Horrible, beautiful bastard.
“Now, while I’m sure you all have things you would much rather be doing, these meetings are mandatory,” she explained for the benefit of the fifth years, going on to mention that they were scheduled every three months and would be an opportunity for them to discuss problems openly with her, the deputy headmistress. “However,” she suddenly said after a few minutes of talking. “There is another reason you all have been summoned here this evening.”
The prefects shared confused looks. Regulus caught Potter’s amused eye and hurriedly looked towards Pandora who was frowning at McGonagall.
“Professor Dumbledore has decided, in the spirit of promoting muggle relations, that a practice common in muggle schools will be rolled in at Hogwarts,” she declared. Regulus felt his stomach flip uncomfortably, thinking of the letter his mother would likely send him when she found that out. Would she remove him from Hogwarts? What muggle practice were they going to be doing? What did muggles do in school other than use those strange writing tools and play strange sports like ballfoot and bambooton?
“Are we finally getting a sports club?” James asked eagerly. “I’m telling you, Minnie, Hogwarts needs to get into muggle sports.” Regulus hoped not. He barely survived seeing Potter looking gorgeous after Quidditch. Muggle sports were much more hands on — how would Regulus cope?
“Not quite, although we have discussed such activities,” she told him, and he grinned. “As some of you may be aware, muggles often have class assignments where students are required to write an essay on a particular topic. Much like we do. Although these topics are not school related. Muggles will have students write about a recent holiday or an important memory from their childhood or a time they felt proud of their achievements; essays like this allow teachers to assess a student’s writing capabilities and it can also give us insight into a student’s life experience.”
“Oh!” Lily gasped. “I’ve done that before! My primary school teacher had us all write about our favourite animal and why we liked them. I wrote about owls.”
McGonagall inclined her head, “Thank you, Miss Evans. An excellent example,” she glanced around the room. “As this is a new assignment, we believe it will go over smoother if a smaller group is tasked with this first.”
Understanding dawned on him but he stayed silent. His mother was going to throw a bigger tantrum than when the Wizengamot were discussing making muggle studies mandatory instead of an elective. It didn’t pass — but it came close. In a few years, Regulus suspected all students in first through fifth year would be taking muggle studies alongside their other classes. For muggleborns, they would be in a group learning wizarding culture and history.
“Do you mean us?”
Regulus rolled his eyes at the dim Ravenclaw who asked that question. Obviously she meant them. Who better than the prefects to endorse Dumbledore’s muggle loving tendencies?
“I do,” she hummed, “On the final day of term before the Christmas holidays, a special assembly will be held where a select few of you will be required to read your essay aloud. The others will simply turn theirs in for grading.”
Regulus’ stomach dropped as Pandora leaned forward, “Will we be given a grade for this assignment?”
“A certificate of completion will be awarded to everyone who participates. This is not mandatory, however, I implore you to take this opportunity to showcase your skills in writing and public speaking.”
“Public speaking?” a Hufflepuff fifth year repeated.
McGonagall smiled thinly, “As this is for the promotion of muggle relations, a select few of you will be required to present your essay in front of the school. Those of you who do not present in the Great Hall will be given the chance to read your essay aloud with myself and the other prefects acting as an audience.”
There was a frisson of panic crawling up his spine. Regulus didn’t enjoy public speaking. He didn’t want to read anything personal he’d written aloud to anyone, but he especially didn’t want to speak to the whole school.
“Public speaking is an incredibly useful skill in all manner of careers such as politics or education,” she gave them all a pointed look, “Regardless, your hard work will be reflected with an extra merit on your final results in your NEWTs. This is merely a side project, but it does have its benefits, so I suggest you take this as seriously as you would an essay in one of my classes.”
Regulus’ brain was working overtime. Mother would want him to have the certificate but she would not be pleased to learn he’d done something muggle. If Muggle Studies became a mandatory class, would she want him to fail on principle or pass with exemplary marks like in all of his classes? Regulus didn’t know. Mother was capricious.
“Do we get to choose whether we present to the school or not?” Potter asked, looking rather bored. For him, public speaking was as easy as breathing. Regulus was sure Potter would love a chance to have all eyes on him.
“Yes, I have a list here,” she thumbed through the contents of her desk drawer. “Would any of you like to volunteer to present your essay in the Great Hall?”
Ever the consummate Slytherin, Regulus spoke before anybody else, “You still haven’t told us our given topic.”
McGonagall blinked. A few of the hands which had been creeping up to volunteer themselves wavered and went limp. “Ah, yes,” she adjusted her glasses. “The topics are randomly assigned from a hat. Dumbledore had the Heads write down different prompts. Before you leave, you will all draw a slip from the hat with your given topic.”
Regulus didn’t like the sound of that but he didn’t say anything more. Reluctantly, he stayed quiet, neither volunteering or expressing his displeasure.
To the surprise of absolutely nobody, James Potter was the first one to raise his hand. McGonagall gave him a thin smile and wrote his name down. “Anybody else? We need at least one person from each house as a display of house unity.” Lily Evans also raised her hand and McGonagall jotted her down. The Hufflepuff seventh years both shared a look before raising their hands in unison. Only Ravenclaw and Slytherin had not volunteered a single person.
Regulus glanced among the other Slytherins. His partner for rounds was Priscilla Parkinson who looked as if she’d swallowed something sour. The seventh year prefects were Avery and Pyrites who both had their arms folded, disgusted. Beside them, the Carrow twins were the fifth year prefects, both too busy mumbling to each other in Russian to care about McGonagall’s task.
Pandora hummed next to him and raised her hand, “If nobody else is comfortable then I don’t mind, Professor.” Regulus knew Pandora despised public speaking and always squirmed away whenever her parents requested a speech from her at their annual charity balls. He admired her bravery. If only he were so inclined.
McGonagall happily added Pandora to the list as well as Pandora’s Ravenclaw counterpart, Gilderoy Lockhart, who probably only volunteered because he wanted to upstage Pandora’s considerate gesture. Regulus glared at him across the room. Slimy little weasel.
“That only leaves Slytherin,” McGonagall waited for one of them to speak. Nobody so much as twitched. “If none of you volunteer I will be forced to select a name at random.”
Again, nobody spoke. Regulus would rather he were forced to participate, at least then he could tell Mother he’d had no choice in the matter. It might stop her from starving him for a week. Maybe he’d get only three days without food. He didn’t know. She’d been rather testy ever since Regulus transitioned and then Sirius ran away. It would only take one final push before she lost it.
Apparently the fates were intent on seeing Regulus die young as McGonagall sighed, raised her wand, and sent off a beam of light to dart around the room at random only for it to settle in front of Regulus. She gave him an almost pitying look as he clenched his jaw.
“That means,” she began, scribbling his name down. “James Potter, Lily Evans, Amos Diggory, Alice Fawley, Pandora Lestrange, Gilderoy Lockhart and Regulus Black will all present to the school. The rest of you will share your essays amongst yourselves at our next meeting.”
As it was the end of September, that meant they had two months and two weeks to write their essays. Regulus sighed as he imagined Barty and Evan’s faces when they found out about his new assignment. They would laugh until they were sick.
“How much do we have to write? I’m very busy preparing for my mock NEWTs.” Parkinson curled her lip. He caught James Potter mocking her expression and fought back a smirk.
“At least a sheet of parchment,” she held up a piece from her desk as an example. “Anything more will of course be accepted but do try to not write too much. This is purely personal so we are not expecting you to bear your heart but some depth is necessary.”
Regulus barely suppressed a groan. She really was trying to kill him. At least then Mother wouldn’t get the chance.
“Can we hand it in before Christmas?”
“Certainly,” she nodded. “In fact, I would encourage you to hand your essay in by the end of November to give us time to review them before your presentations.”
Scratch his earlier thought: Two months to write an essay on whatever topic he was given. That didn’t sound too difficult.
“Wicked,” James grinned. Regulus’ heart flipped. “Come on, Minnie, what am I going to be writing about?”
McGonagall didn’t seem impressed with the repeated use of that nickname but she must have given up hope of trying to stop him. Instead, she flicked her wand and a hat much like the sorting hat appeared. She dropped a handful of parchment scraps into it and tapped the brim of the hat with her wand, sending it floating to the fifth year Hufflepuff closest to her desk. The girl placed a hand inside the hat, pulled the parchment out, and gave a thoughtful frown at whatever was written on the parchment. Regulus watched as the hat moved on to the next person, catching the boy’s raised eyebrow at his prompt. Nobody gave a very strong reaction. Lily Evans smiled secretively down at her parchment and James outright grinned. When it was down to just him and Pandora, Pandora stuck her hand in the hat before humming at her prompt. He saw the parchment read ‘Tell us about your favourite foods from a specific country — any country’. That seemed like a nice topic. With less reluctance, Regulus dipped his hand into the hat and pulled out the last scrap of paper.
‘Write about the person(s) who raised you’
Fuck.
“Professor, may I exchange mine for another?” Avery asked the question he was begging to ask. “This says I have to write about a time I felt insecure,” he smiled thinly. “I’ve never felt insecure.”
Professor McGonagall pursed her lips, “I’m afraid that is impossible, Mister Avery. You see, Professor Flitwick charmed the hat to only give a prompt you can feasibly answer.”
Avery’s face went blotchy red as the Carrows snickered openly.
“Now, if any of you have any more questions, feel free to either find me or your head of house. If that is all, you are free to go.”
Stiffly, Regulus stood with Pandora and made his way to the door as quickly as he could without running. As he left, the chain on his neck warmed and he sighed in relief, placing a hand over where the pendant lay against his heart. With a goodbye to Pandora, Regulus made his way to the Astronomy tower.
After five minutes of waiting at the railing, a ruffle of fabric alerted him to the person behind him. Regulus stayed still. Arms wrapped around his waist from behind as lips pressed against his cheek.
“Mi rey.”
Regulus sighed against James and leaned back into his chest, “You took your time.”
“Had to fill the boys in while I got the cloak and the map. Padfoot still wants to know who has stolen my heart, he threatened to follow me but I know he won’t. If he tries, Moony will stop him.”
Regulus snorted and turned around in James’ arms. He leaned up on his tip toes and brought James down to brush their lips together.
“Mmm,” James hummed into the kiss. “How are you feeling, love? You seemed tense in Minnie’s office.”
“She is going to strangle you one of these days,” he mumbled, lips brushing against James’ cheek. He lowered himself and sighed, resting his head on James’ strong chest. “How are you?”
“Ah, ah, I asked first.”
“I’m fine, James.”
“Nice try,” James ran a hand across his back. “Is it the assignment? Are you worried about it taking up too much of your time?”
“No,” he slumped into James’ arms. Nothing in the world was more comforting than feeling James Potter pressed against him. It made him feel on top of the world. Like he could do anything. Yet it also made him feel safe. Like nothing could ever hurt him. It was a dangerous combination.
“Then…”
“What is your essay on?”
James frowned, “A special memory. Any memory, so long as it’s special.”
Regulus sighed. That would be so easy. He could write a fluff piece about getting his wand for the first time or his first time flying or even the first time someone referred to him as Regulus instead of his deadname (although he would never do that, it was too personal).
“Ah,” James made a sound of understanding. “What’s yours on, love?”
He fished the offending item out of his pocket and shoved it at James. His boyfriend unfolded the wrinkled scrap of parchment and read it, a hiss leaving his mouth.
“Shit.”
“Exactly,” Regulus went back to his comfortable position leaning against James. “I’m doomed. Let’s not talk about it. Tell me about your day.”
James’ beautiful brown eyes were sad for a moment before he gently kissed Regulus, “We don’t have to talk about it but if you want to, I’m here. Always. Just send me a message and I’ll be wherever you need me to be.”
Regulus cradled James’ face. It stunned him breathless, feeling such an intense sense of love and adoration for someone. “Thank you.”
Perfect as always, James nodded, brushing his lips against Regulus’ palm before tugging him onto the floor and beginning a lengthy recount of his week. Regulus leaned against him, content to listen to his boyfriend ramble, forcing all thoughts of that cursed essay from his mind.
“My mother always supports me in my endeavours. Our heritage is incredibly important to her and as a way to connect with our culture, we spend time learning traditional instruments. Mother is fond of the gayageum, a string instrument which is plucked to produce the most beautiful sound, and always delights in watching me perform for her. She is my greatest role model and always encourages me to do more — fucking hell, Reg, I’m going to be sick,” Barty gagged, holding the essay aloft like it were smeared with bubotuber pus as he lounged on Regulus’ bed.
Regulus shrugged from where he was laying half on top of Evan, “Technically, Mother does like watching me play the gayageum.”
“To insult your technique,” Evan snorted into his hair.
On the only other free bed (Barty’s) Dorcas and Pandora were in a similar position to Regulus and Evan. Pandora curled her arms around Dorcas and laid her cheek on top of Dorcas’ head, “It’s all very lovely but you can’t submit that.”
“Why not?” he frowned. He thought it was pretty good
“Because it’s not true,” Barty rolled his eyes. “You’ve filled this thing with praise for Walburga and Orion as if they were the best parents anyone could imagine.”
“And?” he raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like he could tell the truth. The whole school would be horrified if he wrote about the days spent weak and hungry, the bruises and broken bones, the crying and pleading for mercy.
Pandora frowned, “Didn’t I tell you? The essays have to be truthful or else we’re disqualified.”
“Excuse me?”
Pandora nodded, still lounging all over Dorcas who was reading a copy of Regulus’ essay with disgust on her face, “Lockhart submitted his essay last week and Flitwick called him into his office this morning. One of the third years overheard everything. Apparently Lockhart wrote some tripe about his holiday to Greece where he single-handedly saved a small wizarding community from a Nundu with only a galleon and a flute.”
“What a load of bollocks,” Dorcas laughed.
Evan snorted, “Guess you’ll have to start over, Reg.”
“Wait,” Regulus held a hand up. “How would Flitwick know I’m lying? Or McGonagall? They may suspect something is amiss but they can hardly call me out on it without insulting the House of Black.”
Pandora sent him a pitying glance, “Flitwick is checking all of the essays with an honesty charm. If the majority of the essay is fabricated then you’ll be disqualified from the assignment. Lockhart has been moping about it all day.”
Regulus’ heart sank. If he had to be truthful then his whole essay would be flagged. Everything he wrote was falsified. His essay painted the story of a loving yet stern father and a kind and caring mother. None of it was true.
It wasn’t like he could bow out either. Mother was furious when he sent a letter to her about his new assignment but she made a point of telling him that Blacks faced their problems head on. The merit on his NEWT results was also worth it and it gave Regulus a chance to practise public speaking for when he became the head of the household. In her mind, it was an unfortunate task, but one he must do. If he backed out now he would look weak, the House of Black could not afford to look any worse after Sirius abandoned them.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
“If only we could switch,” Pandora frowned. “I wouldn’t mind writing your prompt and I’m sure you could write pages about your favourite delicacies from a country of your choice.”
Regulus bemoaned his luck. What he wouldn’t give to write about something personal yet innocuous. Everyone had a favourite food. Nobody would care what he wrote and he could pad the essay out with lengthy descriptions about the flavour, texture and scent of whatever foods he chose.
Regulus was convinced his prompt was the worst. Maybe for someone like Potter or Dorcas who had a good relationship with their parents it would be fine but the Blacks were not known for being warm and loving. Regulus’ childhood was bleak, his adult life looked even bleaker.
“We can’t, I wouldn’t make you do that,” Regulus sighed. Pandora’s parents weren’t terrible. They weren’t great either. They were rather distant, happy to let the governess raise Pandora while they ran several businesses on the continent.
Evan squeezed him reassuringly. Regulus leaned back against his chest. He loved his friends but he wished another set of arms were around him instead. They changed topic, switching to encouraging Barty as he complained about the Ministry function his father was forcing him to attend over Christmas. Still, Regulus' mind stayed stuck on his essay. He couldn’t lie, but he couldn’t tell the truth either.
What was he going to do?
Regulus was in a crisis. For days, then weeks, the fresh piece of parchment marred only by the essay title sat on his desk, waiting to be used. It took him a week to write that first essay, then another week before he found out about Lockhart’s disqualification and after over a month of panicking, Regulus was left with only five days left before the first of December.
“Hello.”
Regulus ignored the voice speaking to him and concentrated on staring down at his Potions textbook. It was a Saturday, which meant it was supposed to be a rest day, but studying for NEWTs took up all of his time and he wasn’t sure what to do about his special assignment, so he was using Potions as a means of distracting himself.
“I’m going to sit here now.”
Regulus continued staring at the recipe for Amortentia. If only James were here. If only they could be seen publicly together. He would do anything to hear James’ voice. Unfortunately, a big fight between some of the younger students meant a weekend assembly on appropriate corridor behaviour was being held and they required the Head Boy and Head Girl. So no opportunity for Regulus and James to find a dark corner to sneak kisses and waste the day away.
“Not planning on dosing some poor unsuspecting fool are we, baby brother?”
That made Regulus glare sideways at the obnoxious idiot. “Shut up, Sirius. And go away. I’m clearly very busy.”
“You haven’t turned the page in thirteen minutes. I’ve been counting.”
Regulus sniffed, “Shouldn’t you be off gallivanting with your idiotic friends?”
Sirius huffed, “Prongs is at that stupid assembly, Wormtail is at chess club and Moony kicked me out of the dorm.”
“I always knew he was smart.”
“Apparently I’m too distracting,” Sirius sighed loudly, ignoring him entirely. “He’s so obsessed with me, you see.”
”Oh, so he can’t be too smart then.”
“I think it’s my pretty face. Not that you’d know anything about that.”
“Go away, Sirius. I’m busy.”
“No, come on,” Sirius whined. “I’m bored.”
“I’m unmoved. Why are you pretending to care about me now? Go bother one of your foolish Gryffindors instead of annoying me.”
Sirius frowned, “Reg—” he opened and closed his mouth for a moment. “Reg, you know I care about you. I always have.”
“Is that why you left in the middle of the night without any notice?”
“Obviously I couldn’t announce that I was leaving. She would have locked me in the cellar until graduation!”
“What about me?” he snapped. “You couldn’t tell me?”
“And have you tell her? Please,” he scoffed. “Mummy’s little puppet. I wouldn’t have made it three steps without you squealing.”
Hurt rippled through him. Lip trembling, Regulus slammed his book closed and gathered his things.
“Oh— Reg, come on.”
“Piss off, Sirius.”
“Just— Just sit back down,” Sirius tried. “Look, I’m sorry, alright? Why do you always have to turn everything into a fight? I just wanted to try and—”
“Oh, fuck off,” he slapped Sirius’ hands away. “You’re the one who came here solely to pester me.”
“I’m just trying to talk to you!”
“Because you’re bored. Because you have nobody else to bother,” he shouldered his bag. “Nice to know I’ll always be last on your list, Sirius.”
Sirius blanched, “That’s not true! I was joking!”
“Exactly. Because everything is a joke to you,” he kicked his chair into place. “Leave me alone, Sirius.”
His brother called out to him again but Regulus was sick of hearing his excuses. Mummy’s little puppet. The title made Regulus sick, mainly because of how true it was. Mother always complimented Regulus on his face, it was why she kept him so petite, so thin and dainty. She loved having a little doll to dress up and parade around at balls and dinner parties only to stuff him in the cellar or the third floor cupboard when he was no longer useful. When Regulus came out he was sure that the loss of her favourite toy galled her the most. But even still, Regulus conformed to her wishes. He was still a toy to her. He just dressed differently. No longer could she play with his hair, but she could style his robes and have him do and say whatever she wished.
In a way, he was still her doll.
For Sirius to throw that back in his face…
It was an uncomfortable but admittedly truthful statement. He was her toy. He always would be. No matter what his name was. He would always be Mummy’s puppet. The doll she always wanted as a child.
It made Regulus furious. He stomped around his dorm, muttering to himself in a mixture of French, Korean and English as he cursed himself for being so weak. Why couldn’t he stand up to her? Why was it so hard for him to tell her no? Where had Sirius learned to be so bold and brave?
Contrary to popular belief, it wasn’t at Hogwarts where Sirius learned to fight back. People like Mother insisted it was. She loved to blame Gryffindor House and James Potter for corrupting her son but the truth was Sirius had always been like that. He’d always defied her, although in more subtle ways. He’d lied to her face to protect Regulus, he’d mock her behind her back, he’d roll his eyes when she wasn’t looking. There was never a time where Regulus could recall Sirius having an ounce of respect for Mother. She was always the subject of his hatred.
Regulus wished he could be so unafraid but Mother terrified him. She scared him more than anyone. She haunted his nightmares. Now, he had to write an essay about her.
The almost blank piece of parchment on his desk stared back at him. Five days. He had five days to write the most complimentary and utterly false essay on his parents. Over the months, he’d learned some of the other prompts from overhearing gossip on rounds. One of the Hufflepuffs was instructed to write about their first pet. One of the Carrows had to write about their favourite book. Somehow, Regulus was one of the unluckiest students in the bunch. Especially because he wasn’t allowed to lie in his essay, every word had to be the truth as he knew it.
In short: Regulus was doomed.
“Hola, hermoso.”
Regulus gasped and clutched a hand over his chest. The corridor was seemingly empty but he would recognise that voice anywhere. After a moment of looking around, a swish of fabric revealed James, smiling lovingly as he folded his cloak over his arm.
“Bloody hell, Jamie,” he murmured, still holding his racing heart.
James wriggled his brows and pulled him into a sweet kiss. “Have to make this quick, the boys are waiting for me.”
Regulus melted into James’ arms before putting a foot between them. A cursory glance around revealed nobody nearby but he didn’t want to risk it.
“Where are your idiots?”
James nodded towards the portrait at the end of the hall.
Regulus frowned. “I’m going to the kitchens too.”
His boyfriend lit up, “Really? That’s brilliant! Come on, we can go in together.”
Regulus hesitated for a moment, grasping James’ hand and squeezing his palm. “Can we— Can we meet this weekend? Please?”
It wasn’t often that Regulus begged. Part of being raised a Black meant learning to never bow your head, to never beg for anything. Unless, of course, it concerned Mother or another older member of the family. Then he was to be meek and mild at every opportunity.
James softened and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, “Anything you need.”
That was good. It was the essay deadline that weekend and Regulus was mentally preparing himself for disqualification and the repercussions that would follow. Perhaps he could spin it in his favour. Would Mother accept that he’d purposely sabotaged his grade in a show of defiance against Dumbledore and his muggle loving ways? Maybe. If he was lucky. Although the public shame may outweigh her appreciation for him thumbing his nose at the Headmaster.
They ducked into the kitchens together. James held the portrait for him and he barely refrained from giggling at the swooping in his gut. His James was such a gentleman it was terribly endearing. Sue him. Regulus appreciated good manners. Most teenagers sorely lacked them. He’d practically beaten them into Barty. Evan would be so thankful in the future when they finally got together.
“Oh,” Remus blinked, being the only one facing them. Pettigrew turned around, sipping from a swirly straw shoved into a chocolate milkshake. Beside him, Sirius also turned, his expression lighting up around the macaron in his mouth.
“Reggie! Prongs! It’s a real party now. Come sit!”
“I’m not staying,” Regulus ignored the way Sirius’ face fell, cursing his soft heart for feeling bad. He explained, “It’s Dorcas’ birthday tomorrow. I’m here to request a cake for her.”
As expected, his favourite elf, Winnie, toddled over. He crouched, taking her hand. “Mister Regulus! Winnie can make whatever Miss Dorcas needs!”
“Thank you, Winnie,” he cupped her hands in his. “May we have a large chocolate and raspberry cake with her name written in icing, please?”
Winnie’s ears wiggled, “Of course, Mister Regulus! What colour shall Winnie make the cake?”
“Yellow, if you please. It’s her favourite colour.”
Winnie wriggled in excitement, “One chocolate and raspberry cake in yellow coming up! Winnie will get started right away!”
“You don’t have to rush, Winnie. If it’s any trouble I can order one from a bakery—”
Censuringly, Winnie waggled her finger at him, “No bad wizard-made cakes for Miss Dorcas! Winnie will make the best she can!”
Regulus softened, “Thank you, Miss Winnie. Much appreciated.”
As he straightened, he saw the four Gryffindors goggling at him.
He glared, “May I help you?”
“That was…” Pettigrew began.
“So cute,” James breathed, his wide smile bunching up his cheeks.
Remus sent James a strange look before nodding at Regulus, “You like house elves?”
“Of course I do,” he snapped. “They’re just like us only without the free will.”
Sirius snorted, shaking his head with a smile on his face, “The amount of times I’ve heard that. I’d be richer than Prongs.”
“Oi,” James whacked him.
Remus looked at Regulus thoughtfully, “Do you have a house elf?”
“Yes, his name is Kreacher,” said Regulus proudly. “He’s wonderful.” Sirius’ snort was much more derisive this time. He ignored it. “If that is all, I have an essay to write. So, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Potions?”
Regulus frowned at Sirius. His brother had been sending him sad cow eyes across the hall since their spat the day before. “No, actually, McGonagall’s special assignment.”
Understanding, Remus hummed, “Like James’.”
“Have you really left it to the last minute?” Sirius frowned. “I thought you were a proper swot.”
Regulus glared, folding his arms defensively. “I’ll have you know the topics are extremely personal. You try writing an essay on such an invasive subject.”
“What’s yours about?”
“None of your business.”
“Fine, I’ll find out in a couple weeks anyway. Prongs said you’re presenting to the school too.”
Regulus glared at his boyfriend who grinned back sheepishly. “Well, Prongs should learn to keep his mouth shut.”
“Aw, I thought you loved my mouth, mi rey.”
Sirius made a disgusted sound at James’ comment and Pettigrew snorted. Regulus ignored the flirtation and moved to leave.
“Wait,” Sirius called suddenly. “If you’re struggling with the essay, I— I can help. Maybe?”
Regulus paused. He frowned at the group of Gryffindors. Perhaps if anybody could help it would be Sirius. He was the only other person who knew what Grimmauld Place was like. Their cousins had it rough with Cygnus the drunkard and Druella the narcissist but neither of them were Walburga and Orion. They didn’t know just how bad it got at home. They didn’t understand even if they could relate.
Sirius did. Maybe… Maybe Regulus could ask him for his opinion. Surely he would have some clever way to get around the given topic. Honestly. ‘Write about the person who raised you’. He would be better off writing an essay about all the ways in which his parents failed him, creating the anxious and defensive little creature that stared back at him in the mirror every morning.
As he opened his mouth, Regulus froze.
Staring at Sirius, thinking of the prompt…
Oh.
It was so incredibly simple yet definitely not what McGonagall or Flitwick or whoever intended. Most importantly, everything would be wholly truthful. Flitwick couldn’t call him a liar. His words would hold against the most invasive of honesty charms.
“Thank you for the offer,” he said numbly, mind racing. “But I think I’ve just fixed my own problem. Talk to you later. Goodbye. Thank you again, Winnie!” he called in a rush, all but bolting from the kitchens.
Mother was going to kill him, but he was sick of being her doll.
The day of the presentations dawned on them and suddenly Regulus didn’t feel so confident in his idea. He’d sat through listening to the other prefects the evening before, the ones lucky enough not to be presenting to the whole school. The six of them who were yet to present were all anxiously anticipating the morning. McGonagall told them they would present in a specific order. The Hufflepuffs first, then the Gryffindors, then Pandora as the only Ravenclaw, and Regulus last as the only Slytherin. Once again, he cursed his bad luck. This was definitely payback for Slytherin winning the Quidditch Cup last year all thanks to Regulus’ deft hand and sharp eyes.
They also received their marked essays back after the presentation. When McGonagall handed him back his essay, there was a strange light in her eyes and she even went as far as to nod at him, looking prouder than he’d ever seen her. His cheeks had been bright red ever since.
They waited in the corridor to the teacher’s entrance of the Great Hall, the one behind the main table. Regulus busied himself with talking to Pandora and subtly watching James who did the same while chatting with Lily and Alice, only much less subtle. Those brown eyes made his heart race, something Regulus did not need considering how anxious he already was. When James was called after Alice to present, he breathed a sigh of relief. No more fit bastard to take him even more breathless, although he instantly missed the comfort of James’ presence.
Lily and Pandora had a great time talking before Lily was called away about five minutes after James and then a few minutes after that, Regulus was alone.
As he paced, Regulus tried to convince himself that everything would be fine. Within a devastatingly short time, Professor McGonagall was at the door, gesturing him to follow her. A sick feeling welled in his throat and he fought it down, shakily following her.
Just before they got to the door, McGonagall placed a hand on his shoulder, “Never in all my years have I read something so beautiful,” she told him, eyes shining. Regulus trembled against the weight of her praise. “I’m sure you will get your wish, Regulus. Good luck, not that you’ll need it.”
As he made his way to the podium, Regulus carefully kept his eyes away from the crowd, instead focusing his attention on a far off point. His resolve shattered as he laid his essay down in front of him and he couldn’t help but search out his friends in the audience. Barty and Evan were on one side, Dorcas and Pandora on the other. Pandora nodded at him reassuringly. Then he searched the Gryffindor table. Remus and Peter sat on one side, polite interest on their faces. Opposite them, James and Sirius were watching Regulus. There was a strange look on Sirius’ face, like he was distracted, but James looked focused as ever.
James tilted his head, his gaze warm and lovely. Sirius watched him, lips lifting a little in encouragement. And suddenly Regulus didn’t feel so scared anymore.
Brushing his hands across the edges of the podium, Regulus opened his mouth.
“Hello, my name is Regulus Arcturus Black. Along with several other students, I have been tasked with writing a personal essay on an assigned topic. Forgive me for not following the prompt in the way it was intended. Hopefully, throughout this essay, you will understand why I took a different approach to this task.
As a child, I never quite understood what it meant to love. Love was a far-off concept that didn’t make much sense to me. You can’t touch love. You can’t see love. So how do we know we’ve got it right? We teach children essential skills and tasks. Things they need to know to develop and grow. Walking, talking, reading and writing. But who teaches a child to love? Where do children begin to understand these concepts that are so essential to our lives? There is no class on love. No exam on quantifying love for another person. How can a child learn what love is and know for certain that they really understand the concept?
Most of you will have an answer. Emotions are learned in the home. It is our parents who teach us what love is. Our parents show us love and we associate love with them. When they hold us, when they dry our tears, when they brush our hair or tuck us into bed or read us a story even when they’re so exhausted they can barely stand. That is love. The love of a parent. Unconditional love.”
Regulus swallowed as he looked at the various faces watching him. One face in particular came to mind as he remembered the next section of his essay.
“These are all things that parents do for their children,” he felt his voice waver. “So, what happens when a child is not taught any of that by their parents? Who teaches those children to love? To feel? To be happy? Who comforts those children and keeps them safe? If we associate love with these integral parts of raising a child, then what about children who learned love from someone else?”
Regulus caught Sirius’ eye, “For me, I learned to love because of my brother.”
Sirius’ eyes widened. The hall erupted into a flurry of whispers. James smiled brighter than the sun.
“My brother took on the role of both of our parents and showed me what love was. My brother was the one who held me when I was sad. My brother dried my tears and played with my hair and tucked me into bed. My brother kept me safe and told me I was special and that I was the brightest star in the universe. My brother read to me, making up stories or reading from books even though he couldn’t make out the bigger words. He taught me to read. To write my own name. To walk and talk and tie my shoes and identify every piece of cutlery on the dinner table. My brother held my hand as we walked through the gardens. My brother stood in front of me like a shield.
My brother loved me and protected me before anybody else, when neither of us had a word for it, when neither of us knew what love meant, he learned to love wholly by his own doing and shared his love with me. For that, I will always be grateful, because without my brother I still wouldn’t know what love was. Love would still be a far-off concept. It would still be something that confuses me. But because of him, I know love. And I know love is the most magical thing in the world.
Some children don’t have that. They have parents who don’t know how to love them. They never learn to love the way I did. They never had someone hug them and comfort them and love them even at the expense of themself. For them, love isn’t tangible. It’s an idea. An idea someone else came up with that they cannot begin to comprehend.
Not everyone is as lucky as I am. My brother taught me the most valuable lesson of all and I dread to think who I would be without him because what are we without love? Life without love simply isn’t worth living. We can pretend to be solitary creatures but the truth is human beings need companionship. We crave it. Whether that is platonic or romantic is inconsequential; what matters is that we have someone, anyone, who loves us and stands by us through thick and thin.
I think that might be the saddest part. Because when you love so fiercely, you have nothing greater to lose. And when you do lose that love, it is the single most agonising thing in the world,” he blinked through his tears. “But life is full of valuable lessons. Learning to love is also learning to let go. Sometimes, the greatest show of our love is allowing a person to move on to a brighter and better future. Perhaps that was the most important lesson my brother taught me, even if it’s the one lesson he never meant for me to learn.”
Regulus swallowed thickly. He didn’t dare to look at anyone in particular. Although he did catch a glimpse of Lily Evans who had tears streaming down her cheeks.
“For this essay, my prompt was to write about the person who raised me. When faced with this challenge, most people would write about their parents. Their mother, or father, or maybe both. Maybe some other guardian. But some of us aren’t blessed with loving parents, or even parents at all. After months of trying to figure out how to approach this assignment, I realised I was missing the obvious. I do have someone to write about. The person who raised me is the same person who taught me how to love: my brother.
My brother raised me.
And while he may not have always had all the answers, while he may have made mistakes, while he may have done things that broke my heart, nothing will change the fact that he raised me. My brother shaped me into the person I am today, and I can only hope he is proud of the person I’ve become, because all I’ve ever wanted is to be someone he is proud of.”
Regulus pretended the echoing silence didn’t affect him as he slipped into place between Dorcas and Pandora. Professor Dumbledore was quick to take charge of the situation, praising all of the students for participating. The headmaster gave a lengthy speech about the importance of these tasks but Regulus didn’t listen. His gaze stayed locked on the top of the table, a growing sense of fear welling inside of him.
Mother was going to kill him.
There was no chance she wouldn’t find out. Parkinson or Avery or the Carrows would tell her. A whole speech, over a thousand words, all about Sirius and how much Regulus loved him, appreciated him. Not to mention the implications of him not writing about her or even Father instead. The person who raised him. The person who showed him love: Sirius, not Mother. Not Father.
She would be livid. Yet Regulus found he didn’t care. He was a year away from graduating and he was only a few months away from turning seventeen. He would be free to do as he pleased then.
Throughout his essay, Regulus realised that staying with Mother would be his death. She was horrible and cruel. It took him days to think of one positive thing to say about her and even then it was a lie. In contrast, Regulus could fill sheets of parchment with praise for his brother, with stories of their childhood where Sirius was there for him when Mother and Father were not.
Sirius was his brother and his parent. Even though he didn’t have to be. Sirius chose to prioritise Regulus, and the one time he didn’t, Regulus held it against him and refused to hear him out.
It was an uncomfortable realisation. Sirius didn’t have to do anything for him. Regulus wasn’t owed anything more than a simple brotherly bond. Yet Sirius did that and more anyway. He still tried to talk to him. And Regulus ignored him.
No more, he swore to himself. After submitting his essay for grading, Regulus sent an order to Gringotts and withdrew the contents of his vault just to be safe. He was done being Mummy’s doll. She didn’t deserve his loyalty, nor did Father, the useless swine. They were both horrible people and Regulus hoped that when they died alone and unloved by their children they would see the error of their ways.
A piece of muggle scrap paper fluttered in front of him and Regulus blinked at it. He unfolded the scrap, reading the words. Written in Korean, the note read: Second floor girl’s bathroom as soon as the assembly is done. It wasn’t signed. It didn’t need to be.
Regulus looked at his friends. His chosen family. They were all watching him closely, worriedly. He tucked the paper into his pocket, turning back to Dumbledore.
Once the assembly was finished, Regulus squeezed each of his friends’ hands and made his way to the girl’s bathroom. As he walked into the bathroom, he looked around for Myrtle. She wasn’t there. She must have been off in another part of the castle for once.
“Reggie.”
Regulus swallowed and looked at his brother. Sirius had never looked so small. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes were red, lashes thick with tears. Wet streaks marked his tanned skin. The long curls of his hair were in disarray.
“Sirius.”
He wondered what Sirius saw when he looked at him. Sometimes when Regulus looked at his brother he saw multiple people. The father. The mother. The brother. The protector. The betrayer. The sibling who was just trying his best. It made it hard to know how to feel. Sirius was all of that and more.
“You— You…” Sirius’ lip wobbled. “You wrote about me.”
“I did.”
“You said I taught you how to love. You said— You said I made you into the person you are.”
Regulus crossed his arms, somewhat defensively. “I did.”
“You meant that?”
“I did. I do. Flitwick cast an honesty charm over every essay. It’s why Lockhart didn’t get to perform. If my work had been untruthful, I wouldn’t have been permitted to present.”
Sirius nodding, swallowing with wet eyes. Abruptly, he reached out and yanked Regulus into a tight hug. All at once, Regulus fell apart. Slumping into Sirius’ chest, he let out a horrible sob, burying his face into his brother’s robes.
“Oh my little star,” Sirius wept into his hair. “I’m so sorry. I love you so much.”
Regulus sobbed, “Shut up. You don’t have to apologise.”
“I left you.”
“You saved yourself.”
“I should have saved you too.”
“There is no saving someone who does not wish to be saved,” Regulus sniffled. “You did the best you could. Imagine the sort of horrible little creature I’d be without you. With only Mother as a source of influence. You saved me in far more important ways, Sirius.”
Sirius cradled his face, “I need you to understand that there is no excusing me leaving in the middle of the night without telling you. I’ve been trying to find the nerve to apologise properly for that. That’s why I was really bothering you the other day. Moony wasn’t busy and Peter’s chess club didn’t have a meeting that day. I just wanted to finally tell you how sorry I am for leaving you behind.”
“You shouldn’t have had to take care of me.”
“No,” Sirius insisted. “Regardless of what should have been, you were always my responsibility; being your brother, your father, hell even your mother, is a blessing. I’m not sorry for leaving, for saving myself, but I should have saved you too. I should have at least tried. Leaving you there was unforgivable. The least I could have done was give you a warning.”
Regulus’ lip trembled, “I miss you.”
“I’m right here.”
“And I still miss you.”
“You don’t have to miss me anymore,” Sirius tucked him into his arms. “You will always have a home with me. I’ve got it all figured out. Alphard left me a fuckload of money in his will and I can put down a deposit on a flat for when I graduate—”
“Sirius.”
“—I know you still want to make them proud but Reg they’ll never be proud. They’ll never be happy. Walburga and Orion aren’t worth you throwing your life away for—”
“Sirius. Stop talking.”
Pained, Sirius pressed his lips together, “Reg, please.”
“Did you not hear anything I said earlier? I’m done with Mother and Father. I’ve been planning on leaving once I turn seventeen but I suppose a few months won’t make much difference.”
“Really?” Sirius’ eyes were sparkling with hope.
“Of course,” Regulus sniffed. “But you’d better not place a deposit down on a flat. We’ll need more space than that and I refuse to live in some hovel. We can go house hunting together.”
Sirius brightened, “Really? Space for who? As much as I love you and respect your relationships, I don’t know how I feel about sharing a home with Crouch. He looks like he licks sharp blades for fun.”
“Oh, he does,” Regulus snorted, wiping his damp cheeks. “I would assume you want space for you and Lupin, yes? Well, I have my own paramour and I’m rather sick of the broom cupboards and dusty classrooms—”
Sirius shrieked, “A paramour? Who? Where is he?”
Regulus grinned, “That’s fine. We’ll be living together soon enough.”
Sirius despaired, “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes!”
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By rxgulus on A03