Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Regulus Black smiled up at the list on the notice board. He’d done it. He’d made the team.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Woah, sorry kid.”

Regulus looked up to see the captain, Emma Vanity, draw her hand back. She had short brown hair and brown eyes, and was just a bit above average height. Of course, she still towered over Regulus, who was only a second year. Vanity was...fifth? He thought so, at least.

“Didn’t mean to startle you. Just wanted to meet you properly.” She extended a hand towards him. Regulus almost instinctively grabbed it and brought it to his lips, as one does for a lady. Vanity just looked at him funny. Perhaps he’d done something wrong...was there some hierarchy or etiquette he didn’t know about? Or that he’d forgotten? “Right, you’re sacred twenty-eight,” Vanity said as if she’d just remembered. “Well, a handshake will suffice in the future, Black.”

Regulus felt his face heat up. Practices hadn’t even started, and he’d already humiliated himself. “Right. Well. Nice to meet you, Va- Em- Miss Vanity.” Regulus wanted to melt into the floor.

Vanity let out a small laugh and bit her lip. “See you at practice, Black.”

It had been a crap day. Nothing had happened, he just felt like rubbish. Regulus didn't even want to be at dinner, to be honest. But what he really didn't want to do was explain that to everyone. So he stayed seated, pushing a few carrots around his plate, and cutting them up into smaller and smaller bits.

"Black." Regulus looked to the sound of the voice to see Emma seated to his left, which had been vacant last he took note of it. "You need to eat something, bud."

Regulus shrugged. Apparently, that counted as agreement to Emma. Regulus watched as his captain took his plate, and began filling it with roast beef and potatoes.

Olivia Nott decided she wanted to contribute to this, and passed Emma a tureen of broccoli to serve him. Regulus scowled at her. "Don't give me that face, Regulus, you need a balanced diet. Bones is a diver, so if you want to make it through the match against Hufflepuff without getting dizzy, vomiting, or passing out, you're gonna eat all of that."

"That's not for a week," Regulus muttered.

Emma gave him a Look. "Listen to 'livia, Black. She knows what she's talking about."

Regulus frowned and reluctantly began to eat. The food was great, but quality was never the issue. He tried to turn off his brain for a bit, to just eat.

"Something bothering you?" Emma asked, when he was nearly finished with his dinner.

"It's fine," Regulus answered quickly. "I can still fly. I won't let it affect my playing, you needn't worry about-"

Emma cut him off. "Regulus. I care about more than your quidditch performance."

Regulus shrugged again. "Well, you don't need to."

Emma sighed. "Well, I do. Get used to it."

Regulus huffed. “I just want everyone to leave me alone.” He looked at his plate, pushing around the last bit of potatoes with a fork. “But they won’t. And there are just...people everywhere.”

“Yeah?” Regulus nodded. Emma stood up, and said loudly, in her best captain voice. “Black, if you don’t get your rear end down to the pitch and fly some laps, you’re off the team!” Regulus blinked at her. “Do I make myself clear?”

Regulus gave her a quick grateful smile before biting his lip to hide it. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Emma continued, hiding her own smile.

“Yes, captain.”

“I didn’t catch that, Black!”

“Yes, captain!” Regulus answered louder. Emma nodded once, and he grabbed his bag and headed out of the Great Hall.

“Regulus, you need to be pulling out of those dives sooner,” Emma scolded.

Regulus shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I just need to fix my form.”

“You’re going too low, form won’t help you if you don’t pull up sooner.”

“I know what I’m doing, Emma,” Regulus griped with a scowl. He was doing fine. He was perfectly capable of making a good dive. It was this new move, with the corkscrew, that was messing him up. He just couldn’t get the turning right.

“No, you don’t. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“I’m not gonna hurt myself.”

“Darn right you’re not!” Emma snapped. “Let me see that dive again, pull out of it halfway to the ground, and show me your form.”

Regulus groaned. “I can-”

“It’s this or laps, Black. Do I need to remind you I’m captain here?”

Regulus huffed, and went to try the dive again. He pulled out of it halfway to the ground--embarrassingly high, really. He slowly angled his broom to flatten out, and then jerked upward. He made to start the turn, and nearly went in the wrong direction. By the time he turned properly, he was too late coming out of the dive.

He clenched his hands tightly around the broom handle. “Ugh, I just can’t-” Regulus struggled to find words. He was thinking too fast. “I can’t get it! Why can’t I get it?” he demanded.

“Calm down, Black,” Emma suggested, gently. “We have all of practice to work on this, you’re gonna get it.”

“I’m not gonna get it!” Regulus snapped back. “I just can’t do it, okay?”

Emma looked around the pitch. “Warrington!” she called. “Bring that here!” Jennifer Warrington flew over, and handed Emma her bat. “Thanks.”

Emma promptly turned to hand it to Regulus, who scoffed. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Rosier’s gonna hit you some bludgers. On my whistle, Rosier!” Evan gave a mock salute at their captain.

“How’s this gonna help with anything? I’m a seeker, not a-” Emma blew her whistle, and a bludger flew directly at Regulus.

Instinctively he wanted to dodge it, but he fought that urge, and smacked it with the bat.

It went flying, if a little of course. Evan flew after it, and hit it back at Regulus.

This time Regulus was prepared, and hit it harder, aiming for Evan this time. It went a good distance in that direction, before the momentum wore off, and it had a mind of it’s own again. It came soaring back at Regulus and he hit it again. Hard.

“Hit it harder, Black!” Emma shouted.

Regulus smacked the next one harder...

“Harder!”

...and the next one, and the next one.

It kept coming back to him, either of its own volition or with Evan’s help. And Regulus kept hitting it with all he could. Over, and over, and over.

He felt like he’d been doing it for a while when Emma interrupted. “Good. Feeling better?”

Regulus thought about it. “Yeah,” he realized. It had been rather therapeutic to be honest. He’d gotten the frustration out. “Thanks.” He handed Jennifer her bat back, and she nodded at him.

“Good. Take a deep breath, and try the dive. Don’t go too low, I think it’s making you disoriented. That’s why the turn’s hard. Just get the turn down before you go deep.”

Regulus Black had been to a lot of nice parties in his life. One of his favorites, however, took place in the quidditch locker room. Everyone was wearing Holyhead Harpies t-shirts, there was a haphazard banner that said “Congrats Emma,” and a record by that muggle band she always played at practice was spinning on Fawley’s record player.

“You know, I’m really gonna miss this team,” Emma told him, as she dug into a slice of the cake the house-elves had made.

Regulus furrowed his brow. “You’ll be playing for the Harpies.”

“So? You all are my first team. You’re the best, professional or not. You guys gave me a private graduation party. You got me a cake, Regulus.”

Regulus laughed. “Well it wasn’t exactly hard.”

“Oh, shut up, it’s good cake. I’m gonna miss you, Black.” Regulus rolled his eyes. “You’re a good kid, y’know? And a brilliant seeker. You’re gonna go places.”

To anyone else in his peer group, Regulus would have been tempted to scoff. But with Emma…

Whether or not he believed her, Regulus didn't know. What he did know was that he respected her enough not to dismiss the thought right away. Which was...something, at least?

Chapter Text

"So, you're the new seeker?"

Regulus jumped at the voice, and fumbled with his gloves a bit, finally catching them.

He turned to see a girl with blonde corkscrew curls sizing him up. Everyone seemed to look at him that way, when they found out he was on the team.

"You fast?" she asked. Regulus nodded. "Brill. Lucinda Talkalot, I'm the keeper."

She extended a hand to him, and Regulus took it. "Regulus Black."

"Nice to meet you." She looked around the otherwise empty locker room. "Well, I'm here because I didn't want to wait for 'livia and Daniel to make their way to the common room from the North Tower. Word of advice, Black, don't take divination." Regulus nodded, with every intention of taking the class. "So why are you early?"

Regulus blushed. "I was nervous."

"For practice? There's no pressure at practice, that's not how Emma rolls. Jackson, maybe, but he's not allowed to be captain for that exact reason. Point is, there's nothing to be nervous about."

Regulus nodded.

"You're still nervous, aren't you?"

Regulus nodded again.

"Cool, well, I'm not gonna bite your head off. Do you want to warm up with me for a bit, before everyone else shows up?"

Another nod.

"Awesome, let me put my robes on," she fiddled with a locker, and pulled out a quidditch uniform. "Feel free to say more than two words at any time!" she called as she turned the corner to the girls changing room.

Regulus was grateful she was gone, because he turned visibly red at that. Of course, she wasn’t wrong.

Regulus and Lucinda were slumped against the lockers across from each other, and they were throwing a small, light green ball back and forth in the gap between benches. According to Lucinda, it was for something called "tennis."

Regulus was content with the silence, but oddly didn’t feel uncomfortable when Lucinda broke it.

“Are you staying for Christmas?” Regulus shook his head. “Me neither.” She tried to peg him with the ball, to no success.

"Nice try,” Regulus muttered, attempting to peg her in response. No such luck.

“Nice try," Lucinda parroted. "Stay here next year, yeah? Daniel and Olivia and I have plans.”

Regulus gave an exhale of laughter. “For next Christmas?”

“Yes, for next Christmas. It’s our last Christmas at Hogwarts, we have to spend it in the castle.”

"I'm two years younger than you," Regulus pointed out.

Lucinda shrugged. "Well, duh, Black. But we want you there to celebrate. The whole team! Apart from Emma, of course. Have you ever spent Christmas at the castle?" Regulus shook his head. "Outrageous. You have to do it at least once."

"Then why so keen on next year?" Regulus challenged.

"Because, Regulus!" Lucinda whined. Regulus laughed. "You're such a grinch."

Regulus furrowed his brow. "I'm such a what?" Lucinda threw the ball right at his chest. "Ow."

"You have, like, zero culture, you know that?" Regulus gaped at her, affronted. "Make sure to give me your address so I can send you a Christmas present, yeah?"

Regulus nodded, but internally he was marveling that Lucinda planned on sending a Christmas present, and wondering what he ought to get her.

It didn't occur to him until later to wonder how he would explain away the package--specifically the surname of the sender--to his parents.

"I'm quitting the team."

"You're what?"

"Quitting the team," Regulus repeated, hoping against all hope his nerves weren't showing.

"I heard you, you're just not talking sense. You're not quitting the team." Lucinda said it as if it were a done deal.

Regulus squared his shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "I am."

"No, you're not," she insisted. "Do you want to tell me where in the empty space between your ears this idea formed?"

Regulus scowled. "It's not practical. I have OWLs this year, and I'm too busy."

Lucinda sighed. "Regulus, it's January. Ugh, I should have known you'd be like this."

"Like what?" Regulus asked, offended, despite the little information he had.

"Every year there are a bunch of kids who lose their cool, and go full on OWL prep at the start of term, and burn themselves out. Of course you’re one of them.”

Regulus frowned, offended. “I won’t burn myself out.”

“That remains to be seen,” Lucinda countered.

“Look, it’s just too much stress, right now, okay?” Regulus snapped. Because it wasn’t just about OWLs. All the pressure was on him now.

“Did something happen over break?” Lucinda asked. “This wasn’t an issue last month.”

“No, nothing happened,” Regulus lied, his voice going up slightly, causing Lucinda to raise an eyebrow.

Nothing happened...I just became the sole heir of my name is all.

“Right. So you just don’t care about quidditch anymore?” Lucinda asked.

“No!” Regulus insisted. “Of course I do, and I still want you guys to win. And I wish I could play with you all, I really do. I love flying, I love quidditch, you know that. And...you guys are the best, but-”

“What do you love about quidditch?” Lucinda interrupted.

Regulus sighed. “Merlin, I don’t know. It just makes me happy. It’s one of the few things I enjoy anymore. And flying is just so...the feeling’s just amazing.”

“And you think that quitting something you enjoy will make you less stressed?”

Regulus winced at the truth, and rubbed the back of his neck. He hated that she was right. “Well, I, um…” he trailed off, and then hung his head, muttering under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said I’ll see you at practice.”

“Darn right. Thought you could get out of it that easy, huh?” Regulus gave a weak laugh.

Lucinda wrapped her arms around Regulus, and he let her pill him into a hug.

"I'm gonna miss you so much, you dork," she said.

Regulus gave a rather put-upon sigh. "I suppose I'll miss you, too, Lucinda."

She pulled back from the hug, and looked at him. Ignoring his sarcasm, she said, "Don't let them ruin my team, kid." She reached out to ruffle his hair before Regulus could duck away. She raised an eyebrow. "Season's been over for a month, and your reflexes are already worse."

Regulus rolled his eyes, and Lucinda mimicked it.

"Alright, one last hug, and then I swear Fawley will murder me if he has to wait any longer to say goodbye to you."

Regulus laughed, and let Lucinda hug him again. He held on tight, and let her squeeze him back. He was really gonna miss this.

Chapter Text

“Oh, it’s you.” Regulus looked up to see two vaguely familiar students walking into the locker room. “Black, right?” a girl asked. Regulus nodded, trying to place her. He’d seen her at pureblood parties a few times, and was racking his brain for her name. “I’m Olivia, by the way,” she offered. Regulus hoped his cluelessness hadn’t been obvious. “Nott,” she added as an afterthought. “Olivia Nott.”

The boy behind her nodded at him, leaning in the doorway. “Hey. You were at the Rosier’s party this summer, yeah?”

Regulus nodded, before realizing he really ought to say something. “Yes, they’re cousins of ours.”

“Daniel Fawley. Hey wait…you’re the squirt who got in trouble for tying Cygnus Black’s shoes together, yeah?”

Regulus blushed, and shook his head. Of course. They thought he was Sirius.

“That was his brother, stupid,” Nott corrected, before Regulus could even say anything. “The one in Gryffindor.”

“How should I bloody know-”

“Language, Daniel!” Nott snapped.

“What, he’s like…ten or something. How old are you, kid?”

“Twelve,” Regulus answered.

“Okay, I was close enou-”

“Fawley!” someone snapped. “Get out of the doorway, and get ready for practice, or it’s laps!”

Fawley jumped out of the doorway, to reveal Emma Vanity. “Okay, okay, sorry, I’ll get changed.”

Nott rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind Daniel, he’s an idiot. Do you have robes yet?”

Regulus shook his head.

Emma held up her hands, stepping away from them. “Don’t look at me, I’m sh- awful at sewing.”

Nott laughed, and smiled at Regulus. “Follow me, I'll see if I can adjust a uniform for you.”

"Can I take a look at it?" Olivia asked. Regulus sighed. "Regulus. You took a quaffle to the shoulder."

"So?" he asked.

"Would you prefer the hospital wing?"

"Fine." Regulus pulled his sweater over his head, and sat down on the bench in his undershirt. He was getting used to this routine, and as he began to trust Nott a bit more, he didn't refuse as much. She wanted to be a healer, and had always been the one the team turned to for more minor injuries. Some of them too proud to go to the hospital wing, some just too tired of the rants Pomfrey would go on about quidditch.

"It left a small bruise," she said. He flinched at the feeling of her cold hands. "Does it hurt?" she asked, concerned.

"No. Your hands are freezing though."

Olivia nodded. And then, with no discernible reason, put both her hands on Regulus' neck.

Regulus let out a small shout, and scrunched up his neck to get away.

Olivia burst out laughing at that. Regulus glared at her. "Oh, c'mon, that was funny."

Regulus shook his head vehemently, deliberately forcing the corners of his mouth down.

She just laughed again. "You're so adorable, I love it."

Regulus fidgeted uncomfortably, and just turned back around to let her examine his shoulder some more.

She rubbed her hands together to warm them up a bit, and then dug around in her bag for something.

"You good, Regulus?"

"Yeah. Why do you guys always say stuff like that?"

"Like what?" Olivia asked, somewhat absentmindedly.

“You say I’m...adorable and stuff.”

“Does it bother you?” she asked, sitting on the bench next to him.

“I just...don’t get it. I’m not a little kid.”

“You’re a fourth year.”

"You were in fourth year when I met you," Regulus commented.

"And if only I knew then how young I was," Olivia said, her voice turning sarcastically wistful.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Nott."

Olivia gasped. "Do I detect sass?" she asked, affronted.

She poked Regulus in the side, and he scooted away along the bench. "Hey!"

Olivia just laughed. "Now," she stood up, determinedly. "Are you gonna let me take care of that bruise?"

Regulus huffed, quite overdramatically. "I suppose."

"Tsk, tsk, always the sass with you. If you don't want me healing you, I could always make you borrow Lucinda's keeper pads."

Regulus shook his head vehemently. "Those things are hideous."

"Right, of course," Olivia said, a teasing tone creeping into her voice. "Can't have the heartthrob of the fourth year not looking his best."

Regulus felt his face heating up. "I'm not the-"

"Reg, face it you totally are. Emma told me-"

"I swear if you bring up-"

"-that her younger sister, Florence-"

That was all Olivia had to say to get the desired reaction. Regulus let out a groan, and buried his face in his hands.

"We were Charms partners one time!"

Nott laughed. "According to Florence, charms are your strong suit." Regulus shrugged. "No shrugging, I'm trying to take care of your shoulder."

"I mean, I have an E. Barty's much better than me, though."

"I don't think that's what she meant by charms."

"Wha- Oh, Merlin."

Olivia just laughed at him.

"Get up!" Regulus was smacked in the face with a pillow. Thanks for that, Barty. He rolled over, and buried his face in the sheets. "Regulus Black, you useless lump, we have class at nine!"

Regulus groaned, and tried to put a pillow over his ears.

"Don't think I won't make Evan pull you out of bed."

Regulus peeked his head out to look at Evan. "You good, mate?" Evan asked. "You're never late for anything."

Regulus sighed. He felt like utter garbage, and all he wanted was to fall back asleep. "I don't know. I might be sick."

Barty had the good sense to look a bit sheepish. "Do you want to go to the hospital wing?" he asked, despite probably knowing the answer. Regulus hated the hospital wing. He shook his head.

Evan sighed, heavily. "Of course you don't."

"I'm fine, really," Regulus insisted.

"Then come to class."

Regulus gave Barty his best scowl. "Okay, not fine," he amended. "But I don't need the hospital wing."

Evan rolled his eyes. "Take care of yourself, alright? Ask the elves to make you something, you already missed breakfast. We'll be back around lunch."

Regulus rolled his eyes, and turned over to try and sleep.

He was slowly drifting off when the door opened. "Hey, Reg," whispered a soft, familiar voice. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he mumbled. "What are you doing here?"

Olivia laughed, a gentle, unassuming sound. "I don't think Evan trusts you to take care of yourself."

"Don't you have class?"

She shook her head. "Free period." She lit her wand and walked over; Regulus was grateful she hadn’t turned on all the lights.

Regulus frowned. "You don't have to-"

She put a finger over his lips, and Regulus simply looked back, puzzled. "Hush. Have you eaten?" Regulus shook his head. Olivia tsked at him, but moved her finger away. "I'll have the elves make you something. What sounds good?"

"I'm not hungry, really. And I can get my own-"

Olivia cut him off. "How about some chicken soup?"

It didn’t sound too bad, come to think of it. "I suppose."

"Brilliant." Olivia reached out, putting the back of her hand against his forehead, and then his cheek. "Could be a small fever. Do you feel cold?"

"Yeah, a bit."

"Do you need more blankets?"

"No."

"Really?"

"Yes."

And so it continued, the endless questions and coddling from Olivia. She all but refused to believe Regulus when he claimed he didn't need something, so the whole thing was rather drawn out.

She finally left, and then came back with some more pillows and blankets Regulis didn't need.

"I know, I know," she said at the look on his face. "I'm just going to leave them here for later, Merlin. I have a class to get to, but there's an elf who's gonna bring you some soup later." She reached into her pocket, and pulled out two small vials, handing him one. "Take this now, and the other in three hours."

Regulus swallowed the contents of the first vial, recognizing the strong medicinal taste of Pepperup potion. Olivia left the other on his bed side. She reached over and brushed his hair out of his forehead, and held her hand to it, as if his temperature would've changed that rapidly.

"Alright," she said reluctantly. "I have to get to class. Feel better."

"I'll try," Regulus said, smiling.

"That's all I ask," Olivia said, looking over her shoulder as she left.

"Hey, Olivia?" Regulus added. "Thanks. For doing this."

Olivia smiled at him, kindly. "Of course. Get some sleep, I'll see you at lunchtime."

Sirius had always said that the best thing about a pureblood Christmas party is that it only occurs once a year, and that the second best thing was the alcohol.

Regulus was halfway through yet another flute of champagne, and everything about the event seemed so incredibly…absurd. Perhaps that was just the clarity of a man about to die, or perhaps he was a bit tipsy.

He wondered why he’d never gotten this drunk at a Christmas party before. It certainly made the event more interesting. What had he been worried about? Decorum? Being presentable? Some such thing like that.

When had he started caring so much about those things? All he knew for sure was that he’d stopped caring about them in the past week.

“Boo!” A hand grabbed his shoulder.

Regulus started, and let out a quiet shriek-like sound that died in his throat. Just behind him, Olivia was hiding laughter behind an ornate fan.

“Don’t do that, Nott,” he muttered.

She giggled gently, channeling her laughter into something much more appropriate. “I didn’t think it would startle you that bad.” She added, as an afterthought, “and it’s Yaxley, now,” but she didn’t seem too happy about it.

“Right, Yaxley,” Regulus repeated. He’d been at the wedding. The whole quidditch team had been invited, including… “Y’know, I always thought that maybe you and Fawley-”

Olivia snapped her fan shut and rapped Regulus on the arm with it. “Keep your voice down about that.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. The whole team had always that maybe Olivia and Fawley…

The two of them had been best friends, but there had always been something lingering under the surface. Regulus had the feeling that if Olivia had had different parents, or Fawley had had a different last name, it would have been a standard on-again-off-again relationship. Or maybe just a standard relationship, full stop.

As it was, they took turns pining, and making up reasons why it could never work, and somehow managed to stay close friends through it all.

“Have you been in touch with him recently?” Regulus asked. He missed Daniel Fawley, quite a bit, actually.

“Nah. Corban…he wasn’t a fan of me writing to another man. I tried to explain it, but…well, he went to school with us, too, and apparently you weren’t the only one who thought we were…more than friends.”

“I see,” Regulus commented, sipping from the flute.

“He always liked you,” Olivia commented.

Regulus snorted a bit, and some champagne filled his nose. The carbonation creating a simultaneously fuzzy and burning feeling in his nostrils. “Corban Yaxley?”

Olivia frowned at him. “No, Daniel. He always said to me how he wished he had siblings, and that he saw you as a sort of little brother.”

“Ha,” Regulus muttered, with a scoff. In that case, perhaps it was only right he didn’t get in touch with Fawley before he died. He wasn’t getting in touch with Sirius, and the least he could do was treat them both the same. More than Sirius ever did for him, the way he favored James Potter…

“How much have you had to drink?” Olivia asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“Not much,” Regulus answered, noncommittally.

“Right,” Olivia said. “Well, maybe you should slow down, Reg.”

Regulus scoffed. “You’re not a healer.”

He regretted it instantly when he saw Olivia’s face fall. He was such an idiot.

This is why I have to get the horcrux, Regulus thought. This is why the Dark Lord needs to be stopped. This is why blood purity is pointless. All it ever got us is a world where Olivia Nott isn’t a healer, and Daniel Fawley can’t even shoot his shot.

Regulus downed the rest of his glass quickly, and turned to Olivia.

“I love you,” he said.

“What?”

Regulus giggled as if the two of them were school girls sharing secrets. “Relax, not like that. You’re my friend.”

He gave her a hug, which seemed to surprise Olivia a great deal. Regulus probably would have been utterly stunned by it, too, had he been sober. He whispered in her ear: “Thank you for taking care of us. I love you, and I’m gonna fix everything.”

He let go, and Olivia’s pale face had lost even more color. “Regulus-” Regulus made his way to the doors when he saw Yaxley approaching.

Yaxley probably had never had it explained to him that friends could hug each other. He probably thought Regulus was flirting with his wife. Which was a valid concern, because if Regulus wanted to romance Olivia, he could certainly do it far better than Corban Yaxley.

“Regulus, what are you talking about?” Olivia asked. Regulus only noticed the clicking of her heels when the sound stopped.

“Darling, come and dance with me,” Yaxley said, a bit louder than he needed to. If Regulus were a betting man–which he wasn’t (but then again, he was drunk, and he had little use for his inheritance anymore…perhaps he ought to become one for a few days)–he’d say that Yaxley was glaring at his back.

Chapter Text

“Is this the seeker?” Regulus turned around, and saw a tall, muscled boy walk into the boys half of the changing rooms.

“Yes,” Regulus answered. He extended a hand, trying not to show he was nervous. “Regulus Black.”

The older boy reached out for his hand, and practically crushed it in his own. Regulus had the feeling it was intentional. “Jackson Flint. Beater.” Of course he was a beater. He finally let Regulus’ hand go, and asked: “Are you any good?”

“Oh. Well, I-”

The other boy in the room–Fawley–interjected. “Of course he’s good, idiot, he made the team.”

“Hey, I’m just asking,” Flint muttered. “Geez.”

“Well, you should have seen him at tryouts. The kid’s crazy good.”

Regulus blushed. “Thank you,” he answered, trying to sound more casual than he felt.

“Of course,” Fawley said. “I mean, you are.”

“I was busy trying out new beaters anyway, remember?”

“Oh, right!” Fawley exclaimed, easily distracted. “Who’d Emma pick, anyways?”

“The Warrington girl.”

Evan had wanted to be a beater, but hadn’t been too bothered when he didn’t make the team. Evan seemed to be a lot more relaxed than Regulus. In fact, Regulus was probably most upset about Evan not making the team; he didn’t like not knowing anybody.

But at least Fawley seemed alright.

“Oh, there you are!”

Regulus frowned. “This is my room, Fawley.”

“Yeah, what are you doing here, anyways?” Daniel asked, looking around the room. “Everyone wants you at the party.”

Regulus laughed. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”

“What? C’mon, don’t be lame!” He was inspecting Regulus’ bedside table, and Regulus really didn’t like that. He picked up a photo of Regulus with his cousins, and inspected it.

“Hey!” Regulus snapped. “Don’t touch my stuff, Fawley.” Really, it shouldn’t be too big a deal, but, strictly speaking, Regulus wasn’t supposed to have that photo anymore. He just hadn’t gotten around to replacing it yet–that was the only reason he still had a photo of her.

“Sorry,” he muttered, putting the photo down.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Is that all you came in here for? To call me lame and poke around in my room?”

“What? No, I just…thought you were coming down to the party.”

“Well, I’m not,” Regulus answered.

“Aw, c’mon, we can’t not have our seeker at the victory party.”

“I assure you, you can.”

“Look, Regs–may I call you Regs?”

Regulus stiffened. “Absolutely not.”

Fawley shrugged. “Alright. Anyways, number eight, everyone wants you at the party. At least come hang out for a bit? Pretty please?” He pursed his lips, and batted his eyelashes, and Regulus bit his lip to keep from laughing at the absurdity of this boy.

“I don’t think anyone really wants to hang out with me,” Regulus answered. He had to remember to hold his head high. He shouldn’t be concerned in the least about who did or didn’t want to spend time with him.

“Well, the team does,” Fawley said. “And really, it’s our party, so no one else’s opinion matters.”

Regulus gave a fake laugh. “Really, I should get to bed.”

“It’s only seven.”

“I guess. I also might study for my charms test Wednesday.”

Fawley rolled his eyes. “Mate, now you're just giving me excuses. It’s on Wednesday?”

Even Regulus had to admit he didn’t want to study for the test right now. “Well, I-”

“No, that’s enough of that. Listen, number eight: I’m about…seventy percent sure I could pick you up with minimal effort.”

Regulus blushed. He’d always been rather small. It was normal for seekers, but still embarrassing. “Is that a threat?”

Fawley grinned. “Sure. So are you coming?”

Regulus rolled his eyes–even though he was starting to like the idea of hanging out with the team. “Fine.”

“That’s the spirit, number eight!”

Fawley had the audacity to ruffle his hair as he walked past. “You’re the worst, Fawley,” Regulus commented, ducking out of his reach.

“Yup.”

"Oi, number eight!" Only one person called him that. Regulus turned to see Daniel Fawley sprinting across the grass towards him. "Are you walking to practice?" Regulus nodded. "Brill, me too!" Daniel put an arm around Regulus' shoulder. It was probably not meant to be rough, but he had a few years and a few inches on Regulus.

Regulus didn't mind the gesture much, from Daniel. He was one of the people Regulus was more comfortable around, despite the age gap. Or perhaps because of it. The older boy always looked out for him. Helped him with homework, gave advice, all without talking down to him. Apart from teasing, now and then. But everyone did that to Reg. It was a side effect of being the youngest on the team.

"What's with the shrimp, Fawley?" someone asked. Regulus shrunk in on himself a bit, before remembering that Blacks are meant to be confident.

"He's a shrimp to me," Fawley said, giving Regulus' shoulder a squeeze. "But to you, he's Regulus Black, and he's been the seeker behind our quidditch wins the past two years."

Whoever it was rolled their eyes, and went off their own way.

"Sorry ‘bout him, mate," Fawley offered. "Apart from those of us on the team, none of the Slytherins in my year follow quidditch. Not house teams, not league. Not even the world cup, most of ‘em."

"It's fine," Regulus said with a shrug. "Thanks. For saying that."

"Of course, mate! What else would I say?"

Regulus shrugged again. "Don't people think it's weird you're friends with a fourth year?"

"Who cares? My friends are really just quidditch people, and they figure a brilliant seeker's a brilliant seeker."

"Yeah, but-"

"Hush, number eight, you're too hard on yourself. You're my mate, got it?"

Regulus gave a dramatic sigh. "Fine."

Fawley laughed. "You're such a prat."

They were now entering the quidditch changing rooms attached to the pitch, where some of the team was already getting ready.

"Anyways, it's not so bad having younger mates. Always wanted a little brother." Fawley tugged Regulus into a loose sort of headlock, and began ruffling his hair.

Ordinarily, Regulus would have just laughed, and begrudgingly allowed it, but something about it felt off now.

Regulus shoved the older boy away, ducking out of the hold. He went to his locker, moving on autopilot.

"Regulus?" Fawley asked, stunned.

Regulus knew he should say something, but he couldn't think of something that wouldn't make things worse. He grabbed his uniform, and stalked over to the boys side of the locker rooms to change.

“Reg?” he heard Evan ask.

Free of other people, Regulus took a deep breath. His head was spinning as he changed, replaying the conversation.

Always wanted a little brother, Fawley had said. It rang in his head. Of course that was it. Of course that's what made him lose his cool.

Why he had to flip out about it, Regulus didn't know. Fawley wanted him as a brother. Sirius didn't. It should be that simple. But if he replaced Sirius, he was no better than Sirius, and Fawley no better than Potter. But then again, it would be revenge. Justice, maybe.

But it wasn't proper. Fawley wasn't a Black any more than Potter was, and again it all came back to blood.

Stupid blood.

"Knock, knock?" Regulus turned around to see Fawley leaning against a wall. "Sorry about that, mate. Evan explained it."

Regulus' eyes widened in fear and shock. How could Evan do that to him? "He did?" Regulus whispered

"Yeah. I get it. I mean, I didn't even think about the implications, but I guess it makes sense." He knew everything. Regulus wanted to cry. "I mean, my family's not as intense as yours, but we're still pureblood, I should've known. I wasn't trying to cause a scandal, I meant it in a more metaphorical, friendship sense, you know?"

Regulus frowned. "What?"

"Isn't that what I did? Evan says that claiming familial relation can cause, like, scandals or whatever? Because if I were to claim I was a Black it would imply there was an...affair of some sort? And mean there was dishonor in your house."

Regulus blinked. No one under the age of sixty really cared about that tradition anymore. Thank Salazar for Evan Rosier. "Yeah. Yeah, that's right. It's not a big deal, really. I guess I just, uh…panicked. You don’t need to apologize.”

Fawley nodded. "Mates, then?"

Regulus nodded. "Yeah. Mates." He tried to lace up the ties on his robe in the mirror. His hands had yet to stop shaking, not to mention he could never get it done right.

"Need a hand with that?" Fawley offered. Regulus nodded.

Fawley grabbed the ties, and began re-lacing it. Regulus was suddenly struck by a memory of Sirius, fixing his tie for him before dinner. Which was stupid. Because Regulus had not needed help with a tie in years, and besides, his and Fawley's relationship was not brotherly.

Although, come to think of it, Fawley had been there for him a bit more than Sirius, at least recently. And once Regulus stopped avoiding the thought, he realized he rather would like to have someone like Daniel as a brother.

"Evan lied to you."

"Hm?"

Regulus was such an idiot.

"Evan lied to you. He said that to cover for me. The truth is, that," Regulus took a deep breath, "my relationship with my actual brother is...kind of going down the drain right now. So when you said that, I...panicked, a bit?" Regulus looked down at the stilled hands holding his robe ties in favor of looking at the owner of said hands' face. "Because...well, it's too much to explain. But I'd feel guilty if I...replaced him? But at the same time, I like...having you look out for me the way you do. And I promise I didn't mean to freak out, it just...happened."

Regulus was reeling internally, shocked he'd said all that. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Regulus watched as Fawley's hands finished tying his robe with a practiced speed and precision. Then, there was a gentle hand on his chin, guiding his head upwards. "Look at me," Fawley offered gently, dropping his hand. Regulus met his eyes, embarrassed. "You don't need to apologize. For any of that. You're a great kid, Regulus. I'd be lucky to have you as a brother. I'm sorry your own brother doesn't realize that. And if you feel guilty replacing him, I'm more than happy to simply up and steal you."

Regulus laughed. "Thanks, Fawley."

"Anytime, number eight. Do you want a hug?" he offered, holding his arms out.

"No," Regulus said, with a somewhat instinctive scoff, expecting one all the same.

"Fair enough." Fawley shrugged, and turned to head back to the main lockers.

"Wait," Regulus said, suddenly. Because when it wasn't being forced upon him, physical affection was an entirely different matter. "Yes. I would like a hug, actually."

Fawley turned back around grinning. He pulled Regulus into quite possibly the tightest hug ever, and then--maybe by accident? Regulus couldn't tell--lifted him off the ground.

"Hey!" Regulus gasped when he felt his feet leave the floor.

Fawley put him back down. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I ought to go get changed."

"Fawley!" Emma shouted from the locker room. "What's your uniform doing on this bench and not on your person? Has anyone seen Fawley?"

Regulus smirked. "Ooh, you're in trouble."

"And you're a little git," Fawley replied, ruffling Regulus' hair.

Regulus laughed and ducked. "He's in here, Emma!"

Fawley gasped. “The betrayal!” Regulus grinned, and danced just out of his reach.

If you knew absolutely nothing about Olivia Nott, you'd say it was the perfect wedding.

The bridesmaids were in pale pink, and Olivia's dress was layer upon layer of floral shaped lace. It also had long, baggy sleeves, which gave it a romantic look.

Regulus' theory was that it had been designed to make her look smaller, and hide her muscles. Because Corban Yaxley seemed the type to find that intimidating in a woman. And not even the odd, attractive sort of intimidating.

The guest list was another interesting matter. There was one pew in the back that contained a few people Regulus recognized from quidditch, and they were all isolated to a corner at the reception.

They all left before Regulus' parents decided to retire for the evening, letting him stay at the party a bit longer–he'd overheard a whispered "He certainly won't talk to any young ladies if you keep hovering, Walburga." Which was somewhat amusing, actually, as that may have been the only way Regulus would have approached the pureblood girls in attendance.

Maybe it was for the best that the team was already gone, because Regulus didn't want to think about whether or not he'd have the courage to join them. He and Evan had exchanged polite smiles with the group in passing, and both pretended they couldn't hear Lucinda's boisterous laughter, and Emma hissing at her to be quieter.

When Regulus had paid his final respects to the couple and left, it was well after midnight.

The Yaxley's lawn was quite nice. He strolled past their garden, and saw a tiny flicker of light. Out of instinctive fear, he flicked his wand light on immediately.

"Number eight?" a somewhat hoarse voice asked.

Regulus stepped closer, and his light spread over the image of Daniel Fawley, sitting on a garden bench. A freshly lit cigarette between his fingers.

"Hey," Regulus said, flatly. He should ask what Daniel was doing here–he hadn't attended the wedding–but really, it wasn't a question.

"Hey."

"You're smoking," Regulus said, instead.

Daniel shrugged. And held his cigarette up to his mouth, but not inhaling. Really, he was examining it. "Who's gonna tell me not to?" It was far from a casual question.

Daniel Fawley had rarely even tried to have a smoke, but when he attempted, he was always refuted by his best friend, the aspiring healer.

"I'm sorry, Daniel."

"No, don't be. Not on my account. As long as Liv is happy."

Regulus didn't believe it would help to say that he didn't think she was.

"I don't even know why I came," Fawley said, shaking his head. "You know in romance novels, when-"

"I've never read, uh-"

"Lies," Fawley interrupted, something familiar, and teasing in his tone. "No one's that intrigued by a charms textbook, not even you." Regulus blushed, and looked down at the grass. "But you know when the guy comes into the wedding, to object to the marriage? And he's just in time, and he's a hero?" Regulus nodded, intrigued. "Well, he's only a hero if the girl wants him. And the problem is…that I don't know that for sure."

Regulus bit his tongue, not speaking for Olivia, but knowing he ought to say something. Something reassuring. But the truth was, Regulus didn't know much about either of them. Lucinda had had to explain to him the weird tension that was sometimes there and sometimes not between her two classmates. So really, there wasn't much he could say.

"How have you been, kid?" Daniel asked. Regulus wasn't really a kid. But it hardly mattered.

"Well," Regulus replied, biting back the pointless and yourself?

"C'mon, that's it? You don't wanna chat? We used to be close." Regulus didn't say anything. "You know, we all said we'd keep in touch and…then we didn't."

Regulus shrugged. "You knew where to find me." Daniel nodded, and seemed to shrink in on himself.

“I’m sorry.”

It had come out wrong. Regulus hadn’t meant to blame Daniel for it all. Well, okay, he had. But he wouldn’t have said it if he knew Daniel would just shrug, and accept it. He’d thought he was starting a fight. He’d thought Daniel would lash back and they’d be even.

Instead, Daniel just took another drag of his cigarette. “Don’t let me hold you up, if you have somewhere else to be.”

Chapter Text

Regulus fidgeted with his robes. Nott had said they’d do for today, and to give them back after practice for further alterations.

“First order of business,” Vanity said, as everyone gathered on the benches between the changing rooms. “We have two new teammates this year. This is Regulus Black, our new seeker, and Jennifer Warrington, beater.”

Regulus had seen the Warrington girl around, at some parties here or there, and at tryouts, but had not actually met her. As a gentleman, perhaps he should introduce himself first. However, Warrington was a year older than him, and seemed like she could beat him up–not curse him, but actually beat him up–which wasn’t the type of thing he had much experience with.

Regulus held out his hand to her, opting to just shake it this time, and not make the same mistake he’d made with Emma.. “Nice to meet you,” he offered.

“You too,” Warrington took his hand, grasping it very firmly. Regulus tried not to wince. Was she trying to intimidate him? Why? They were on the same team. And it’s not like they’d ever compete for spots. Was there a family issue here? The Blacks weren’t close to the Warringtons, but he’d just assumed everything was neutral there. “You’re a pretty good seeker,” Warrington offered.

Regulus kept his face still, trying not to let the slight ache in his hand, or his confusion, show. What was her game plan here? With a nod, she let his hand go, and turned away. “Flint?” she asked.

The older boy Regulus had met in the changing room turned around. He was only about a half a foot taller than Warrington, but looked at her like the difference was much greater. “What?” he asked. He seemed irked to have been interrupted from whatever he’d been asking Emma.

And, to Regulus’ surprise, that seemed to have an effect on Warrington. “Sorry, um…where are the bats?”

Flint huffed. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

Regulus frowned slightly as he watched them walk away. Narcissa had told him once it’s important to have beaters you can trust. Regulus felt he had a long way to go.

Why couldn’t it have just been Evan?

As the boats got smaller on the dark expanse of lake, and they all stopped waving, Evan spoke first. “Lots of fanfare seeing as we’ll see them all again on the train home.”

“They’re staying in Hogsmeade for drinks,” Jennifer reminded them, “and apparating home.”

Regulus sighed. “Lucky stiffs.”

“Alcohol or apparating?” Evan asked.

“Apparating,” Regulus answered, but then added, “or both. I hate the train.” The closer they got to home, the more the pureblood children straightened their backs, looked down their noses, and watched each other for any absence of propriety.

“It won’t be as much fun without the three of them,” Jennifer agreed.

“I’m fun!” Evan protested.

“I s’pose,” Jennifer muttered.

“Shut up, Jen.” Regulus didn’t know when in the years of beater training Evan got the greenlight to call her Jen, but he was pretty sure it was unique to Evan. If they weren’t on the team, or distinguishing between her and her siblings, everyone else stuck with “Warrington.”

They stood staring at the lake a little longer–none of them really liked going back home.

Regulus also didn’t like being late for anything, though. “Shall we?” he asked. Evan sighed, and the three of them set off to the enchanted carriages that would take them to Hogsmeade station.

“So, which of you’ll be captain next year?” Evan asked.

“Jennifer’s older,” Regulus said, hoping that would settle the matter.

“Yeah, but I’ll have NEWTs.”

Regulus frowned. “Well, I’ll be busy, too.”

Jennifer scoffed. “With what?” she asked.

Regulus and Evan looked at each other. “Y’know, like…prefect stuff. And class.” Jennifer rolled her eyes at him. “Besides, I'm the heir of my family now. I don’t want to let all those politics affect the team. I mean, you probably remember, it was kinda messed up before Emma. Remember Flint?”

Jennifer sighed. “Of course I remember Flint, idiot.”

“What was wrong with Flint?: Evan asked. “He seemed like he played alright, for having gotten in on politics.”

“Yeah, he was good,” Jennifer said. “But when he started on the team, it was all about having connections and money…”

Regulus nodded. “I don’t think he got over the captaincy skipping him, and never really got used to how differently Emma ran things.”

“If he’d been captain, actually, you’d have made the team first, Rosier,” Jennifer mused. “He hated me. He’d never throw a game away over it, so we played together fine, but it was rough for a while.”

“Dang,” Evan muttered. “I’ve heard you lot complaining about Flint, but I didn’t know… Why didn’t Emma cut him?”

“I told her not to,” Jennifer said. Now this, Regulus hadn’t heard before. “My older brother was courting some Flint or another, so I figured I’d stick it out for the year.”

“And that’s why I can’t be captain next year,” Regulus said. “If the badge skips over Jennifer, there’s no telling what it could do to her psychologically.”

Evan laughed, and Jennifer gave Regulus a shove, making him nearly lose his balance on a muddier patch of the path. “Sorry Black,” she offered.

“See, Ev, it’s already started,” Regulus commented, although he was really looking at Jennifer and smirking as he said it. “She’s descending into madness at the mere conversation.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes. “You two are the worst, just so we’re clear. And there’ll be plenty of politics if I’m captain, too.”

“But more girls will try out if you’re captain,” Regulus pointed out.

Evan chuckled, “Oh, I think plenty of girls will try out if you’re captain, Regulus.”

“Shut up, Rosier,” Regulus muttered.

Jennifer laughed, “we could get another Vanity on the team.” They both thought that was incredibly funny. Regulus picked up the pace to move ahead of them.

“C’mon, Reg, we’re just kidding,” Evan called.

He turned around, smiling only slightly. “You better be. Remember Florence at first year flying lessons?” Evan grinned, and Regulus turned to Jennifer, “it’s not genetic by any means.”

Regulus was glad Jennifer was captain–he knew he’d have ruined the team much quicker. Not that Jennifer was ruining it, but they were forced to admit that a sort of golden age of the team was coming to the end.

Jennifer sighed, falling backwards on Evans bed, where the three of them were inspecting her notes from tryouts. “I give up,” she muttered. Unpinning the badge from her uniform.

“If you even attempt to pawn that off on me, Warrington, I swear,” Regulus muttered.

“Fine,” Jennifer muttered.

“Don’t look at me,” Evan said, “I’m not taking responsibility for any of this mess.”

Jennifer groaned. “Crouch, catch!” she hollered. Tossing the badge to the next bed over, to the boy who kept reminding them he was trying to study.

It went over his head, and landed on the stone floor. Regulus wondered if it broke.

“Remind me what you three are doing in here?” Crouch asked.

“We’re working out the new quidditch roster,” Regulus answered.

“Is it actually that hard?” Crouch asked.

All three of them groaned and flopped backwards on the bed.

“So basically,” Jennifer began, “two years ago Lucinda replaced Emma with Blake Jefferson, who’s pretty brilliant, but he’s a muggleborn-” Regulus looked up, and saw Barty open his mouth, presumably to ask how Jefferson ended up in Slytherin. He shook his head slightly. Regulus didn’t want to go over it again, having had to listen to Travers muttering about it at tryouts. “And Avery and Bell were, objectively, the best chasers at practice-”

“So pick them,” Barty said simply.

“Gee, why didn’t we think of that?” Evan muttered.

“Avery won’t play well with Blake, though,” Jennifer explained.

“And,” Regulus added, “Bell won’t play well with Avery once she realizes he doesn’t like Blake.”

“Maybe if you just only put purebloods on the team,” Barty began.

“Oh, yeah, that’d work,” Jennifer snapped, “if Lucinda Talkalot hadn’t been the best keeper we’ve had in years!”

“Who do we have for keeper again?” Evan asked.

Jennifer sighed, and looked at the list. “Greengrass was the best of them, but…”

“None of them were particularly good,” Regulus finished.

“Exactly,” Jennifer agreed. “I mean, maybe we were just spoiled, cause Lucinda was pretty good. But no one blocked more than half of the goals!”

Evan sighed. “I mean, Jefferson made a better keeper just helping out for chaser tryouts.”

Regulus nodded.

“Wait a minute…” Jennifer mused. She sat up quickly, and took the quill from behind her ear to her notes, scribbling furiously. “Do you think Jefferson would be willing to play keeper?” she asked. “Because if we move him to keeper…”

“Avery will chase,” Evan finished.

“And Bell will team up with him fine,” Regulus continued.

“Who was third on chasers?” Evan asked.

“Travers,” Jennifer finished.

Regulus nodded approvingly. “Travers wasn’t bad.”

They all looked at the roster Jennifer had written. “Lots of twenty-eight names,” Jennifer muttered.

“Were they always this interested in quidditch?” Evan asked.

“A bunch of them didn’t try out when Emma and Lucinda were captains,” Regulus explained.

They kept staring at the paper. Regulus didn’t know what Evan and Jennifer were thinking, but as for himself?

He was beginning to realize that for the next two years, quidditch wouldn’t be the escape that it used to be.

Swirling his elf made wine in the glass, Regulus nodded approvingly. The Rosiers always had good taste. He scanned the room for Evan, or someone else tolerable to talk to. He smiled slightly at the sight of a small cluster of his former quidditch teammates. He sauntered over to join the circle.

“Ah, number eight! Fancy meeting you here,” Fawley commented, chuckling to himself as if this was in some way a funny thing to say.

“Of course I’d be here,” Regulus replied. “Happy birthday, Evan,” he offered, raising his glass to his good friend across the circle, who nodded, and the conversation resumed.”

“How was your graduation, Jennifer?” asked Nott.

“It was…quite nice,” Warrington replied. “No one was causing quite so much ruckus as there was for your class.”

Fawley laughed. “I doubt that.”

Eyes flicked to Regulus. Everyone knew that Jennifer Warrington had the misfortune of being yearmates with his brother.

“Well, not in Slytherin, at least,” Warrington corrected.

“C’mon, Reg and I may not have caused a ruckus,” Evan protested, “but we had a good time, right, Jen?”

Warrington nodded. “Yeah, we did a small thing with the team.”

“Oh, like for Emma?” Nott asked.

“Exactly. Only I wish I were doing anything as cool as Emma is. I’m actually going abroad. To America. My parents want me to get away from the war, and I- Well, I agree. We have family there that I can stay with.”

There was a slight tension–or perhaps only Regulus thought so. The war was an untouched topic between them. The only one Regulus had ever discussed it deeply with was Evan. They didn’t even acknowledge it to Olivia…Regulus wondered how much she really knew about her fiance’s life.

But overall, most of the team seemed to be avoiding taking a side as best they could. Or at the very least, no one else was going to the drastic extremes of the Death Eaters or the Order of the Phoenix, that Regulus knew of. Perhaps there was enough to be done in the middle ground anyways. Daniel did something for the ministry that Regulus didn’t understand, and he was pretty sure Lucinda was in some lower law enforcement department or another. And Regulus wasn’t going to pretend listening to a Harpies match wasn’t a welcome distraction from it all.

But to leave…Sirius’ voice in his head said it was a coward’s move. Regulus didn’t like that he slightly agreed. Jennifer was making a very wise choice, and Regulus couldn’t fault her for that, could he?

Olivia Nott was the one to break the brief silence, as she stepped forward and wrapped her in a one-armed hug. “I’m gonna miss you.” She pulled away. “Oh, Merlin, I can’t believe it… You’ll come back for the wedding, though, right?” she asked.

Regulus saw Daniel grimace slightly at the mention of Olivia’s engagement. When the older boy caught his eye, he instantly looked away.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Jennifer replied, smiling. She cast her eyes around the circle, waiting for everyone else's thoughts.

“So,” Daniel began, his face shifting back to a smirk, so he could ease the wartime tension like he always did. “Are you gonna have to learn–what the hell do they play over there? Quodpot?”

Jennifer grimaced. “I certainly don’t plan to,” she replied, turning her nose up. Slight, polite laughs around the circle.

“Do they actually not have Quidditch there?” Evan asked.

“Only two teams,” Regulus provided. “Plus the national.”

“Maybe you should reconsider this, Jennifer,” Olivia quipped.

“I’ll drink to that!” Fawley said, raising a glass. They all joined, but Regulus suddenly felt a burning sting in his arm. He had to bite his lip as he did so to keep from flinching at the pain, and saw Evan doing the same.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he said. “Jennifer, congratulations once again.” He left the room at as leisurely of a pace as he could manage. Hopefully Evan would wait a reasonable amount of time before following…

Why, though? To avoid raising the suspicions that their friends already had?

Regulus was so tired of it all. Although he’d never been a fan of people leaving, perhaps that was what bothered him about Jennifer…

He wouldn’t have minded, even, if she’d joined the Order of the Phoenix.

But could he forgive someone for not helping bring the war to any end?