Chapter Text
Regulus was done, point blank. His final breaking point was his mothers use of Sectum Sempra, the cutting spell. I mean, it's not like he hasn't used it himself (the depressed bastard), but at least then it was on his own accord. No, when it was cast on him as punishment for cutting his hair, and the invisible knives cut all the way up his ribs, he was done. This honestly makes sense though, I mean, he literally couldn't fucking take it anymore, okay? He was a boy, whether his mum liked it or not. He was born a girl, sure, but it couldn't matter to him. He refused to let it. Now he's here, sat in his brothers' best friends' house, bleeding and quite out of breath.
Regulus tumbles out of the fireplace looking around to see Sirius himself, sitting on the couch of the Potter home. His eyes widen as he spots his younger brother appearing suddenly in the living room, blood seeping through his shirt. “Regulus? Merlin's beard, what happened to you?” The usually cool and collected boy jumps up from the couch, rushing toward his brother with concern etched across his face.
He squeaks a small “Hi, Siri.” before remembering why he’s there. “Is James's mum around?”
Sirius's expression shifts from shock to confusion at the mention of James's mum. “Euphemia? She's in the kitchen. But why are you asking about her? And why are you bleeding everywhere?” He gestures at Regulus's blood-stained clothes, trying to process his brother's unexpected arrival.
“I... can I stay a while?” Regulus asks, rather tentatively. He clutches his side, but despite the evident pain he’s in, he isn't loud or shook up.
Sirius's face hardens with concern as he notices Regulus's hesitation and defensive posture. ”Of course you can stay. But you need to explain what happened first. Did mother do this?” He moves closer, his voice dropping lower with a mix of worry and barely contained anger.
Regulus nods in a small movement. “I just really need to talk to her, please.”
“Euphemia's the best at healing magic. Come on, I'll take you to her.” Sirius’s jaw tightens as he reaches out to steady his brother, his eyes scanning for more serious injuries.
Regulus tries to stand but cries out as stress is put on his wounds.
Sirius immediately steps forward to catch Regulus as he stumbles. ”Jesus Christ- you're in worse shape than I thought. Don't be stupid, I'll help you walk.” He wraps an arm around Regulus's shoulders, supporting his weight. “The Potters have got a whole medicine cabinet. I'll get you patched up properly, then we can talk.” He starts leading Regulus toward the kitchen, his protective instincts clearly activated.
“...Hello?” Regulus calls out. It’s not that he's heard Mrs. Potter is mean- actually quite the opposite. That doesn’t mean he isn't weary.
Mrs. Potter's warm voice echoes from the kitchen. ”Hello? Is someone there?”
Sirius guides Regulus closer to the kitchen entrance, his grip tightening slightly as he notices his brother's hesitation.
“Yes. It's Regulus Black, ma'am.” He tugs at his fingers.
Mrs. Potter appears in the doorway, her face instantly showing concern as she spots the blood. “Merlin's beard! Regulus? What happened to you, dear?” She hurries toward them, already reaching for her wand to assess the damage.
“...'s my mum.” To admit this is such an odd thing to him. He’s never spoken ill of Walburga before… and now he could?
Mrs. Potter's expression hardens with understanding as she examines Regulus's injuries. “Your mother did this? Come, let me see those wounds.” She gestures toward the kitchen table, her voice gentle but firm.
Regulus pulls up his shirt a bit, quite uncomfortable but not enough to stop. Mrs. Potter gasped at the sight of the deep cuts, her eyes widening with maternal concern. “Those look severe. Sirius, fetch me some essence of dittany and bandages.” She begins carefully examining the cuts, her movements practiced and precise. Sirius rushes off while Mrs. Potter continues her examination, muttering healing spells under her breath. “This will sting a bit, Regulus. But I need to clean these properly.” She looks at him with the same stern yet caring expression that had made Sirius leave home in the first place. Regulus braces himself but the pain is nothing compared to the initial cuts. Mrs. Potter begins applying dittany to the wounds, the potion hissing as it meets the open wounds. “I've never seen such deep lacerations from a cutting spell. Your mother must be furious,” she muses, working precisely, her hands steady despite her evident anger. Sirius returns with the supplies, his face still dark with concern as he watched Mrs. Potter work.
“Sirius, can you help him take off his shirt? I need to check for any other injuries.” He allows him to, closing his eyes purely out of habit. It's odd, if you told him hours ago he’d be sitting in a kitchen with Sirius and Mrs. Potter, in a bra, and bleeding out, he would have laughed in your face. Sirius exchanges a meaningful look with Mrs. Potter as he helps Regulus remove his shirt. “These cuts are deeper than whats usual for this type of spell," she says.“ She must have used quite a lot of force.”
She examines the silvery scars on Regulus's arms, her expression softening with understanding.
Sirius sits down across from Regulus, his usual sarcastic demeanor replaced by unusual...well, seriousness. “I know exactly how much force she used.” He leans forward, his eyes fixed on Regulus's face with an intensity that suggests he was holding back many questions.
Mrs. Potter finished applying the dittany, the wounds slowly closing but leaving visible marks. “You're welcome to stay here as long as you need, Regulus,” she hums softly. She pats his shoulder gently, her maternal instincts clearly activated.
“Thank you ma'am.” Regulus quickly pulls his shirt back on.
Sirius shifts uncomfortably in his seat, clearly wanting to say something but unsure how. “...You can call her Effie, you know. Everyone does.” He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he'd picked up from spending too much time with James.
Mrs. Potter- Effie- gives Regulus a small smile, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere. “I'll have James bring you some clothes later. You must be uncomfortable.” She starts cleaning up the healing supplies, occasionally glancing at Regulus with concern.
“Thank you.”
Sirius suddenly stands up, unable to contain his restlessness anymore. ”So what exactly happened? Did Mother finally snap after the haircut?” He paces the kitchen, his frustration evident in his jerky movements.
Regulus nods. “I... I was going to kill myself, Siri, if something didn't change. I- I grabbed the knife, I was ready. but then I realized- then I realized that I was just tired of waiting. So I cut it- my hair- instead.” It doesn’t come out perfectly, but it needs to be said. He feels a weight lift off of him he didn’t even know was there.
Sirius has frozen mid-pace, his face draining of color as he processes Regulus's words. “You... what? You were going to...?” His voice cracks slightly, a mix of shock and guilt crossing his features.
Regulus avoids his eye.
He slams his fist on the table, making the dishes rattle. “Why didn't you tell me? I thought you were just being your usual stubborn self!” He runs both hands through his hair now, clearly distressed by this revelation.
“It's not an easy thing to bring up, Sirius!" He has the right to react like this, Regulus knows it. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t make him angry.
Sirius's expression darkens, his jaw clenching as he stares at the floor. ”Easy? I know it’s not easy! I'm your brother! I should have known something was this bad.” His voice rises with each word, a mix of anger and helplessness.
Regulus snaps for the second time that night. “Stop! Stop blaming yourself! I’m- it's my fault, Sirius. you know that.”…And for a second he believes himself- I mean, it is true. He didn’t have to do anything he did tonight.
Sirius's shoulders slump as he leans against the counter, looking exhausted. “No, Reg. It's our family's fault. And I should have dragged you out of that hellhole sooner.” He exchanged a meaningful glance with Effie, who was quietly observing the exchange.
“...I wouldn't have let you before today.” He suddenly feels quite tired as the weight of the situation impress’s on him. He’s had quite the night.
Sirius lets out a bitter laugh, running his hand over his face. “That's what worries me. You're just as stubborn as I am.” He finally sits back down, though his posture remains tense.
Effie places a fresh cup of tea in front of Regulus, her eyes reflecting understanding. “Sirius, perhaps we should let him rest now. He's had quite the day.” She gives Regulus a meaningful look, suggesting she wants to talk to him alone later.
“Thank you, ma'am. so much- really.” He sips the tea- incredibly sweet- and sets it back on the table.
Effie waves her hand dismissively, though her eyes are warm. “No need for formalities. And don't thank me yet- wait until you see how many meals Fleamont tries to feed you.”
Sirius lets out a small chuckle at that, though his expression remains serious; Regulus even shows a small smile. Effie seems pleased to see the slight change in his demeanor.
“You can use the guest room upstairs. Second door on the right.” She points toward the staircase, her voice gentle but firm. He takes his leave, quite exhausted.
He hears Sirius whisper to Effie. “I'm going to check on him later. He's too quiet.” The sound of Effie's soft reply follows him. “Give him space, Sirius. He needs time to process everything.”
He reaches the guest room and finds James Potter sitting on the floor outside, reading a Quidditch magazine. “Oh, hey Reg. Mum said you might need some space, but I figured I'd wait here just in case.” He stands up awkwardly, clearly unsure how to interact with his best friend's younger brother.
Christ, it's James! “...right. Thank you.”
James rubs the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable in the silence. “No problem. Your room's ready, but... well, I didn't know if you'd want to be alone or…” He trails off, fidgeting with the magazine in his hands.
“I, uh-” Are his tired eyes not indication enough that he was done for the day?
James seems to notice his hesitation and quickly adds, “There's a piano downstairs if you want to play. Mum keeps it tuned, just in case.” He gestures vaguely toward the stairs, clearly trying to offer something helpful.
“I think I just need sleep, quite honestly.” He tries not to rush him off, but after the day he’s had- really? I’m not equipped to deal with this- with him- right now. Even if he is… whatever. He shook his head to clear the thought.
“Right, yeah. Sleep is good. I'll just…”James awkwardly steps aside as Regulus approaches the guest room door. “If you need anything, my room's down the hall. I mean, not that you'd need anything, but…” He trails off again, looking embarrassed by his own rambling.
Regulus calls a "thank you" a bit late as James walks out and closes the door behind him. He lingers in the hallway for a moment before sighing and walking away, his footsteps echoing down the stairs.
The room was simple but comfortable, with a single bed, a small desk, and a window that overlooked the Potter's back garden. As night fell, the house grew quiet, unlike the home he was so used to. Through the thin walls, Regulus could hear Sirius pacing in his room next door. His stomach growls, reminding him he hadn't eaten much since leaving Grimmauld Place, and yet he falls into the best night of sleep he's ever had in his entire life.