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Regulus was sitting cross-legged on the bed of his dorm room as he read on his Transfiguration homework while he twirled his wand with his left hand. Fourth year transfiguration was not simply more difficult than third year transfiguration. He had figured that at this point he would have been caught up with all his homework, but there was no end to it. He turned the page and slightly furrowed his brow at an especially confusing sentence. He thought scornfully that the author had lacked a personal assistant to look over her sentence structures, because surely, he – Regulus Arcturus Black – would not be confused by mere sentences in a book.
He rolled his eyes and continued reading about the vanishing spell, though he was barely paying attention to the page anymore. He wondered what would happen if someone used that spell on a living person. Would it kill them? Or would they simply end up somewhere else? Perhaps, they would end up on a different plane of existence. Perhaps, he could-
SMACK
The sound of the door startled him to drop his wand and he whipped his head up as Bran Lowe sauntered in, looking pleased with himself before plopping himself down on the chair in front of his own bed with a thud.
“I just asked out Parkinson” he declared loudly. Regulus merely stared at him before he returned to his textbook. He grabbed his discarded wand and continued twirling it between his fingers.
Bran cleared his throat, but Regulus ignored him. He was supposed to finish his homework so he could move on to Charms – a far easier subject – before he had to leave for potions.
Bran cleared his throat more insistently and Regulus lifted his head in annoyance.
“What?” he snapped, placing his wand on his nightstand.
Bran had the decency to give him an apologetic look before he proudly repeated himself.
“I just asked out Parkinson.”
Regulus shrugged, “You have spoken rather poetically about her since last year. I figured it was only a matter of time before you would.”
Bran frowned in disappointment, but Regulus could not bring himself to care. He did not understand the necessity to boast about who asked out whom so long as his fellow purebloods kept themselves within the confines of the pureblood lines. That was after all the end goal of a relationship; that they would find proper spouses for the future. It was expected … He would of course get to that one day, but he was much too focused on his studies. His parents could not truly expect him to keep up his grades as well as find some witch to court… the latter would have to wait. He could hardly do his homework now without tripping over himself. Interviewing and then maintaining a future wife would be too much. He would not admit to it of course; Sirius had no trouble keeping four friends that he spent all his time with as well as keep the ideal grades. He always managed to upstage him without even trying to. Naturally, Regulus had to do better.
“Don’t you wanna know what she said?”
“From your blithesome disposition, I would assume she answered your pursuit of her in the affirmative.”
“Go-Merlin, Regulus, I’m not about to propose to her.”
Regulus’ eyes widened in scandal, “Certainly, not now, but in the future.”
Bran now squirmed in his seat, “We don’t know what the future holds.”
Regulus pursed his lips but said nothing. If he were about to shame his own family, then be it on his head. He was entirely done advising against foolhardy behavior conducted by his peers, which had grown exponentially this year.
Fourth year had to be a cursed year. Even his rebellious brother behaved more like a buffoon during his own fourth year. He only hoped he would not need to suffer this curse, but he considered himself to be of a stronger conviction than the rest, and surely if whatever manner of disgraceful conduct had not tempted him yet, he was not in imminent danger of falling prey to foolhardiness.
Regulus sighed. He did not delude himself into thinking he could continue working on his homework while Bran was here, and especially not when Bran was excited. Even if he remained silent, the other boy’s presence was so pronounced he would have better luck finding the fabled Chamber of Secrets than he would studying.
He opened his top drawer and placed Intermediate Transfiguration inside before he took out his cauldron from underneath his bed and was pleased to see that his notes were neatly rolled inside the cauldron. He gave Bran a nod of farewell and ventured out of the dorm towards potions class. Perhaps, he could convince professor Slughorn to give him extracurricular work.
After potions class was done, he placed the bags of ingredients Slughorn had given him inside the cauldron. He finally took the vial and prayed to Merlin that it would not shatter on him. He was the only student who had been given the honor of brewing a potion outside the class in his year due to his ‘exemplary nature’. Regulus had beamed at the praise. Thinking back on it, he internally scolded himself. His superiority over his classmates should be natural. He was a Black. Of course, he led by example. Even his mother said… Well, there was no point in dwelling on what his mother said. He picked up the notes and the cauldron and hoped no one would barge into him, when he went back to his dorm to pick up the books for the next class.
He walked out of the classroom, arms full and walked with deliberate steps back to the Slytherin common room when he heard whispering and stopped in his tracks. The sounds came from the old potions classroom they used last year before unidentified students had caused an explosion that not only ruined all the ingredients stocked there, costing the school an unholy number of resources, but it also ensured that the classroom could not be utilized for brewing anymore. Some of the potency of the exploded ingredients lingered, they had said, and it was unknown how brewing potions in the room would affect any given potion brewed within the room. The teachers had forbidden any student entry into the classroom, yet he could hear the whispering clearly. There was some snickering. He doubted it was a teacher. Professors did not snicker. Except for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, but he was a nutter.
He needed to get in there and tell the students to bugger off, so he marched up to the door, pressed down the handle with his elbow and stepped in, only to feel the sudden blast of a magical field throw him backwards in whiz when he hears someone cry out his name. It all goes black for a moment before he finds himself on the cold, hard floor of the study room down in the dungeons.
He pushed himself to sit up and looked around, wondering just how he got in here. The door was closed and that aside the door was not even anywhere near him.
Regulus turned his head to the left side of the room where the door was and stared at it first, then turned his sight towards the wall he must have come through. He finally got off the floor and walked up to the wall through which he could hear some commotion. He let his hand touch the stone – yet a cold, wet feeling came through him instead as his hand went through the wall and his eyes widened in horror. He hoped with everything in him that the wall was simply an illusion, yet he could not find any reason why no one had discovered this before nor why he couldn’t hear anything beyond muffled sounds on the other side of the wall.
He braced himself before he stepped forward and was engulfed by the cold, wet feeling as he walked through the wall and the sounds bombarded him at once as if he had just opened a door.
Sirius was shouting obscenities at the corridor as if… hold on. He was shouting obscenities at Regulus . But Regulus only just got here. He had no part in whatever upset him. Potter was silent for once, but Regulus caught the haunted look in his eyes and the short boy – Peter – had an almost similar look of horror though Potter’s eyes looked a tad more guilty. Perhaps, this was simply wishful thinking on Regulus’ part. He truly wanted Potter to suffer.
Sirius stopped shouting; his shoulders slumped down in a dejected manner. He sunk to the floor letting his hair fall over his eyes, Potter following along.
Regulus cleared his throat, “Sirius.”
Sirius immediately whipped his head up, eyes red – Regulus noted with a hint of contentment – yet no tears had presented themselves. He stood up abruptly, looking right at him. Regulus let out a sigh in relief, “I was certain I’d become invisible, you wouldn’t be-“
“Professor!” Sirius exclaimed and walked towards him. Regulus tried to back away, but Sirius got far too close until he walked right through him and that sensation – the cold… the wet… overcame his body for the moment. He moved away from Sirius and Professor Slughorn who was accompanied by the scarred boy, Lupin. They had appeared behind him without his notice. Regulus carefully wrapped his arms around himself and felt a familiar ache in his chest as Sirius looked at Slughorn with shaking hands that he immediately hid in his pockets.
“Professor… Regulus, he- “
“Mr. Lupin told me, Mr. Black.” Slughorn’s usually jovial disposition was somber; beneath the mustache his lips were a firm line and Regulus could spot a bead of sweat making its way down his bald head. He wondered what they had told him. That they had been holed up in the classroom they were expressly told they were not allowed to enter? That he – Regulus Arcturus Black – was the one who discovered their presence there; that he had been diligent enough to tell this rowdy pack of wolves off, except… he did not manage to. He had barely been able to form a thought before he was blasted into the study room, his potions work falling off his hands… The cauldron! Slughorn would be very disappointed. He had lost his work and the ingredients and the cauldron all at once, and Slughorn would never trust him with extracurriculars after this. How was he to get extra credit when he finally got through this? He looked down at his own hands. They did not look different from before he was struck. Was he even al… no. He was not going to indulge this kind of thought.
“There must be something… something we can do, professor, I- he… We were just mucking about and he-“
“Mr. Black,” Slughorn placed his hand on Sirius’ shoulder, “We’ll get to the bottom of this, m’boy, no need for panic. Mr. Lupin, Mr. Pettigrew, if you please, get Professor McGonagall here straight away.”
Lupin and Pettigrew ran towards the exit of the dungeons with Pettigrew slightly behind Lupin. As soon as they were out of view, Sirius whipped around and started pacing the corridor, Potter following him with his bespectacled eyes with concern written all over his face.
“Sirius… Professor…” he tried again, but to no avail. Slughorn seemed to be looking around for any clues, while Sirius continued his pacing. There was not even the hint of a flinch. They could not see him. He crossed his arms and felt the frown settle on his face. Then he must be dead. He had heard of invisibility potions or even spells that could render one temporarily invisible, but none that would mask his voice. Evidently, Sirius had a feeling that he was dead too, otherwise he would not be this distraught. No, he was not distraught. He was not grieving. Regulus knew Sirius. Sirius had no high regard for Regulus. Not since Potter. It was obvious Sirius was only worried about how their parents would react to this.
Bellatrix would be impressed, he thought. She would congratulate him on eliminating his competition; not that Regulus was any competition. Everyone knew his parents still harbored the notion that Sirius would be enlightened soon enough and stop his incessant misconducts. He had a knack for going around unnoticed – a blessing and a curse. This enabled him to eavesdrop on conversations he would otherwise never know about. It also highlighted his position in this family – the one you should not pay attention to. He was inconsequential. A tool for the lineage. Something his oldest cousin kept reminding him.
No , he thought, his eyes stinging, Sirius doesn’t think this way. Sirius doesn’t think I’m inconsequential .
But he does , another voice chimed in, You’re a nuisance . He’d much rather have those three other boys for brothers. And now he finally got rid of you .
Regulus glanced towards Sirius who was now running his hand through his hair and swallowed the bile that was rising up his throat and hurried away. He could not stay here.
He turned on his heels and hurried away from Sirius and his feigned concern. He could not stomach emotions that he knew Sirius was incapable of feeling for him anymore. He needed air.
He found himself in the courtyard where students were steadily trickling out, yet unaware of the events that had unfolded moments ago.
The cheerful atmosphere was deafening as he felt himself drowning in his own despair.
It was not fair! He had not yet proved to his parents, to his cousins and to his brother that he was more than just the second son. He had not yet shown that he deserved to be in this world with the lines of his family.
He could see it clearly; Sirius standing in front of his empty grave with his three friends ten years from now, laughing at the fact that he had gained fame and changed the world, gained a new family, kids, someone he loved, while Regulus had mysteriously disappeared from the surface of the earth, having left no mark, no legacy; only mourned by his house-elf – for all intents and purposes, someone who was required to look out for him.
He sat in the grass. He could feel nothing but cold. He could not even feel each straw of grass caress his hand running through it, nor could he feel the warmth of the sunlight hitting the right side of his face.
None of the other students acknowledged him, though that was not an odd occurrence in Regulus’ life.
He looked around at them at the other students who were basking in the sun, laughing, jokingly pushing each other around, sharing candy and company.
He would never get to experience this either… He could admit to himself now that he has passed – murdered by his own brother ! – that it would have been nice to have some things in his life that were his own; kids maybe down the line, who loved him for who he was… unless they were like Sirius, then no doubt he would be abandoned by them at some point. But there was no reason to dwell on this now. It was all too late.
He stood up again. Perhaps, it was better if he found some other place to be. Perhaps, he could find out for himself what haunted the Shrieking Shack. He would not be harmed, surely?
He could not imagine anything more volatile than Peeves, and while he had been at the receiving end of Peeves’ wayward portrait frames and whatever else Peeves would find fitting to throw at him, Peeves could at the end of the day hurt him no more than Dumbledore could. You could not die twice, after all.
Perhaps, the Shrieking Shack might be too much… Perhaps whatever haunted it attached itself to visitors. His brother was certainly not idiotic enough to try to brave it otherwise he would have heard of it by now. They loved to brag about their dares and the Shrieking Shack was something they had not ventured into. He and his brother might be drifting apart, but he still knew him.
Regulus decided to at least walk the hallways of the castle. Now that there was nothing more to contribute to life, he might as well satisfy his curiosity.
He spent a whole day walking through walls and discovering rooms he was unaware of throughout the years he’d been a student. His favourite was by far the one room with access to books and random items that seemed to have been in use once upon a time, but now lay discarded in stacks upon stacks of forgotten treasures.
He must have been there for at least an hour, and he knew that he should not stay for long. If this was to be his existence from now on, then the key was that he did not discover everything too fast.
At night he decided to finally see the Gryffindor Tower for himself. He did not need to avoid it anymore. No one would notice him, and he certainly had no reason to hold himself to the same standards. His mother would surely not expect him to uphold the family values when no one could see him… would she?
He made a turn and stopped abruptly when he spotted Bran talking to his older sister from Gryffindor house - Jenny or Jenna - right outside the entrance to the Gryffindor common room with the Fat Lady glaring at them in the background.
“But it’s… SO difficult… you don’t know how they talk about us.”
“It do,” his sister answered with a soft voice and Regulus felt a pang in his chest before he dismissed it, “I may noy be in your house, but I see the way they treat our kind. Keep your head down, like mum said,”
“But dad-”
“Father can’t expect you to fight your entire house. One day we’ll both be out of school, and we don’t have to hide who we are.”
“That our parents are ‘Mudbloods’” Bran said bitterly.
Regulus was not listening anymore. His heart - must be a phantom sensation - pounded wildly in his chest at this revelation.
He was sharing dorm rooms with a mudblood? Oh no… his mother would surely haven his hide. But Bran was so smart and knowledgeable on the Wizarding World even in their first year.
He seemed quite common, but surely Regulus would have known or smelt the mudblood on him. His mother kept saying they were filthy creatures and he always managed to keep a healthy distance from mudbloods in school so he would not smell it on them, but surely they must have some outward or intellectual indication of their inferiority.
Or maybe their intelligence made the difference. His father seemed to think the Muggles - with no magical power nor knowledge - were dangerous enough for him to fortify their entire home against Muggles and Wizards alike.
It still did not remove him from the fact that he had been socializing with a mudblood for nearly 4 years now. Was he to be the family disappointment posthumously?
Sirius openly associated with mudbloods, but what if his parents found out that Regulus had been too? They would think he was secretly just like Sirius, and he could not handle this. He would not even be able to defend himself against any defamation of character.
Not that his mother would ever listen to his excuses. She would likely burn him off the tree and he would join the ranks of Marius and Phineas.
Sirius would not get such harsh a treatment. Their family all expected him to change - not Regulus though. Sirius could never change as far as he was concerned.
Having heard enough of the Lowe siblings’ conversation, he abandoned his question to look through the Gryffindor Tower.
He felt suddenly tired and found himself a spot in the kitchen to rest. Maybe this first day as a ghost would determine his future spot as his ghostly home, and admittedly there were worse places than the kitchens, he thought as he yawned.
As sleep overtook him, he wondered if ghosts actually slept or if they lost the ability after ghosting for years.
He woke up to the house-elves rushing around him cleaning up this day’s breakfast, though the smell of the food was still lingering. None of the house-elves were stepping on him. In fact, they were going out of their way to keep their distance. He started wondering if they could sense his magic. He rose from the cold, hard floor and stared longingly at the breakfast that was being prepared. Livvy - the newest house-elf to join the ranks of Hogwarts house-elves came up to him with a plate.
“Mr Regulus wants some food Livvy set aside?”
Regulus stared dumbfounded at Livvy. “You can see me?”
Livvy cast Regulus a stern look. “Of course, Livvy sees Mr Regulus, Mr Regulus is right in front of Livvy.”
Feeling chastised, Regulus blushed, “Apologies Livvy, I have had the oddest of days yesterday. I will not be able to accept your food, maybe… maybe another day. He hurried towards the entrance about to walk through the portrait when the portrait swung open and a Hufflepuff student walked in. The student stared at Regulus in shock, and Regulus realized that she must recognize him.
I wouldn’t look much better if I’d seen the ghost of any of my schoolmates in the kitchen either, he thought and hurried through the open portrait.
He thought the best thing to do was go to Potions. According to Sirius schedule, he had Potions in the morning and he would love to see the guilt on his face when he finally would get the confirmation that he had killed Regulus in cold blood. This would serve him well.
The door to the Potions classroom was open and he stepped through as he looked at Slughorn who seemed quite grim, and then turned his head to look at Sirius’ classmates. Sirius was nowhere to be seen and Potter - who sat with the redhead the half-blood Snape had a fight with recently - was staring into a mirror rather than help his partner, who nevertheless did not seem to mind. Strange… he had the impression that she did not like Potter.
Regulus cleared his throat and everyone looked up at him from their work. Potter’s eyes widened.
“Mr Black?!” Professor Slughorn exclaimed and his chair screeched as he shot up in surprise, “You’re alive?”
Regulus frowned. Surely not? Did he not look transparent to the others?
“... Where’s Sirius, professor?”
Professor Slughorn left his desk and came up to him ushering him out and closed the door behind them. “M’boy he went back to London with your parents, we thought you’d perished.”
“I… I thought I had too,” Regulus felt several things at once, and he could not pick out whether the negative or the positive emotions were the most overwhelming, “I was there but… no one could see me. I could pass through walls, professor. People passed through me. ”
—
“And there you have it, Mr. and Mrs. Black. Fortunately, Regulus was merely hit with a combination of ingredients that rendered him temporarily invisible.”
His mother turned to him with sharp eyes and he shrunk under her scrutiny, “And you did not deign to leave a message of some kind?”
“I did not have the means, mother,” he answered, his voice soft, trying to sound less accusatory than he felt. If his mother knew the things he had been thinking he would wish he had died by his brother’s hand. At least he could imagine Sirius would be slightly more merciful than their mother.
“Excuses,” she sneered. His father placed a hand on her shoulder, and she glared at him but kept silent.
“Unfortunately, Regulus will not be able to complete the extracurricular he’d been assigned in Potions due to the latest incident, but I’ve talked to Professor Thumbleweed and he’d be happy to give Regulus an assignment for Regulus to keep his mind sharp.”
“Thank you, professor Slughorn,” This was the first sentence his father had uttered since they walked in, “You’ll of course keep us apprised with our sons’ progress?”
“Certainly, certainly, Orion.”
“That’ll be all? Good, we’re leaving” His mother rose and took Regulus by the arm to drag him away, while his father and Slughorn looked towards her patiently, likely both used to her antics since childhood.
Outside Slughorns office, his mother turned him towards her, with her hands on his shoulders. She looked him up and down with a critical eye, though he did not spot the usual judgment that usually oozed out of her everytime she looked in his direction.
“You’re feeling fine? Your breathing?”
“Yes, mother,” he said with a slight furrowing of his brows. This was strange.
“And you’ve not had any adverse reactions to the potion?”
“It was not a potion, just… a combination of ingredients-” his mother’s nostril flared at the correction, “- yes, mother, I feel fine.”
“Good.” She let go of him and turned away, “Orion. We’re going.”
His father came out and Professor Slughorn followed along.
“Let me follow you both out.” he said, and Regulus spotted his mother’s eye roll and his father’s smirk in her direction.
When they left he felt someone watch him and he turned around to see Sirius walk out of Slughorn’s office.
“Were you in there the whole time?” Regulus asked.
“Yes,” Sirius answered, his face serious.
“How did I not see you?” he demanded.
Sirius shrugged, “Forget that.” his voice was shaking, “What were you doing not at least giving me some message that you were alive? Mother and Father were about to skin me alive.”
Of course, that was his worry. “If you were in there, you would know that I thought I had died as well.” Regulus sighed, “You could not hear me, nor could I touch anything with my hands. Anything I could touch was devoid of any natural feeling. I might as well have been dead.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth”
“Well, I don’t care, you’re not allowed to die.”
“You don’t get to decide that.”
Sirius was silent after that. They stared at each other for a while, until Sirius moved forward and wrapped his arms around Regulus. Regulus for his part did not know what to do about this.
“I mean it,” whispered Sirius, “You’re not allowed to die.”