Chapter Text
Regulus saw the snitch in plain sight – he knew the Gryffindor seeker, Fenwick, wouldn’t be far behind, so he dove, willing that his broom would win out – and closed his hand around the snitch.
Sirius’s voice boomed out (and, really, who had decided to let Sirius commentate the matches) “And Black – Regulus, that is, not the handsome one – catches the snitch! Surprised he got his nose out of his books long enough, honestly…”
“Black!”
“Ravenclaw wins the game,” Sirius continued. “Bunch of ruddy swotts – no offense, Reg!”
Sirius always claimed that Gryffindor had a huge party whenever they won a Quidditch match. To Regulus’s great relief, Ravenclaw Tower, despite the House having just won the Quidditch Cup, was as peaceful as it normally was when the team arrived back.
Multiple people did stop to congratulate them, and Regulus in particular, on a game (and season) well-played.
Elizabeth Prewett promised to treat him to a Butterbeer on their first Hogsmeade trip the following year, because as a fifth year, she couldn't remember Ravenclaw having won the Quidditch Cup in all her time at Hogwarts, and such a thing did deserve some celebration.
Regulus sank into one of the plush sofas. He couldn't believe it, not really. They'd won the Quidditch Cup, and would, likely, win the House Cup. Isaac flopped down next to him.
“You seem down,” Regulus observed. “I thought you liked Quidditch?”
“I do,” Isaac said. “And… congratulations, by the way.”
“So what is it?”
Isaac looked around and, apparently seeing what he wanted to see, leaned in close to whisper, “I asked Emmeline out.”
And she’d turned him down. Regulus felt slightly guilty for not telling Isaac that Emmeline wasn’t interested, but he hadn’t been able to figure out how to say that without having to admit that he’d told Emmeline that Isaac fancied her. “I’m sorry,” Regulus said.
“I’m not going to get too bent out of shape about it,” Isaac said. “There’ll be other girls, and Emmeline’s not Jewish, besides.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Regulus asked.
“Well,” Isaac said, “There’s nothing wrong with not marrying another Jew, I suppose, if that’s what, like, Max or David or Miri want to do. I certainly wouldn’t stop them. But personally… I wouldn’t marry someone who isn’t Jewish or wouldn’t convert. And I know – I’m thirteen, marriage is a long way off. And if I restrict myself to dating Jewish girls at school…”
“...Are there even any Jewish girls in this school?” Regulus asked.
“Exactly,” Isaac said. After a beat, he said, “There are four. Two of them are my cousins.”
“Oh,” Regulus said. “First cousins, or…?”
Isaac laughed. “My god, that is such a pureblood thing to ask. One’s my first cousin, the other is… a second cousin, I think? Either way, not going to happen.”
“You and Max are related, too, aren’t you?”
“Somewhere back there, yeah. I think… when our family was still in… Galicia, I think? I don’t think it was the Russian Empire, but it’s Poland now. At any rate, it was before my great-granddad Moshe, because he was born here, and Max’s family – the Jewish side – went from Poland to the States.”
Regulus knew that it was difficult to find a pureblood to whom he couldn’t trace some relation, and it seemed to him as if Jewish wizards might have the same problem.
“It’s not as if – look, I’ll marry someone who’ll convert. Like Max’s dad – he converted, he’s Jewish. There aren’t very many Jews, and even fewer Jewish witches and wizards. Anyway, this is a moot point. I’m thirteen.”
“I suppose the likelihood of either of us meeting our future wives at this point in our lives is very slim.”
“Meeting, maybe. Unless you expect us to marry non-British girls. Getting together with… that’s another story.” Isaac stretched his legs. “She didn’t tell me why.”
“Did you ask?”
“I know better than to ask why a girl doesn’t want to date me.”
That, Regulus thought, was probably a perfectly valid point. He really wasn’t sure why Emmeline didn’t want to date Isaac, and he hadn’t pushed. He supposed Isaac was a bit short, and perhaps a bit too serious most of the time, but he had his fun side. And he was handsome – now, in late May, he was perfectly tanned from time spent studying outside, and his hair had lightened in the sun. Really, there was no reason he could think of why Emmeline wouldn’t want to date Isaac.
“Have you got your eye on anyone?” Isaac asked.
The question caught Regulus off-guard. He supposed Seraphina Greengrass seemed interested in him, but he wasn’t really interested in her. Emmeline was pretty, and kind – even if she thought he was interested in Isaac – but he didn’t think he felt anything special for her. Lily Evans was doubtlessly wonderful, and Regulus knew most of the boys around his age fancied her, but she, too, didn’t interest him in that way. There was no girl that he could think of that he might want to date – to hold hands with and kiss.
“No,” he said. “Been too focused on Quidditch and school, I suppose.”
“You’ll find someone,” Isaac said. “And I’ll find someone who actually reciprocates my feelings.”
“At least we’ve won the Quidditch Cup,” Regulus said.
“Did you have any idea how close Fenwick was? And did you see Potter’s face? Reg, I swear, that’s going to be one of my best memories for the rest of my life.”
On the Hogwarts Express ride back to London, Regulus, Max, and Isaac got a compartment with Emmeline and her friend Dirk Cresswell, a Muggleborn Hufflepuff in their year, who Regulus knew vaguely from Slug Club. Cresswell was exactly the sort of person Regulus was sure his parents wanted him to avoid, but Regulus found he didn’t care.
“What exactly happened at that one Slug Club meeting between you and Rosier?” Cresswell asked Regulus about an hour into the ride.
Regulus knew exactly what Cresswell was talking about, but he shrugged. “Max would sum it up as ‘Black family bollocks’.”
“Because it’s the truth,” Max said. “I think Rosier got it in his head that Reg fancied Lily Evans, because she was tutoring him in Herbology.”
“That’s… the short of it, yes,” Regulus said. It was not the short of it, and surely Max knew that Rosier had been insistent that Regulus fancied Max instead. Regulus wasn’t quite sure why he was lying – and he’d never known Max to lie before – but he found himself grateful for it.
“Anyway, my bar mitzvah is two weeks from today, and I’d better see all of you there,” Max said. “Cancel all your other plans.” He leaned to rest his head on Regulus’s shoulder. He smelled… oddly floral, and Regulus tried not to think too much on it. “Your parents still okay with it?”
“I think they’re looking forward to having Sirius and I out of the house for the weekend.” In truth, Regulus rather thought his parents hoped that Sirius would opt to just stay at James Potter’s all summer.
“And the best part is that you get to spend all weekend with us,” Max said.
“What about me?” Isaac asked.
Max waved his hand absently. “You’ll be there Friday night; we’ll all do something fun together.”
“I don’t think I’d want to spend a weekend with my roommates right at the beginning of holidays,” Cresswell said.
“We’re best friends,” Max said, as if it wasn’t obvious. “And if I haven’t annoyed them too much yet, I don’t think that’ll ever happen.”