Chapter Text
A small box is held tightly in Regulus Black’s grip. The lid firmly closed. It’s a watch. Extremely high-end, dialog style, sleek and expensive looking. Its tradition in the Black family to gift their children with a watch when they turn eighteen. Sirius never got his watch. He left at seventeen. Regulus is thankful for that. But part of him wished he hadn’t stayed long enough to get his either.
“As long as I have one good son, there’s no need to hunt the stray. You are my one good son, aren’t you, Regulus?”
“Yes, Mother.”
Only a small part wishes those things, one that refuses to acknowledge the only reason why Regulus can never walk away from this family like his brother did. He’s happy to do it really. Because he knows that Sirius is safe. Living with Andromeda and being himself in every way he couldn’t underneath their mother’s reign. He hopes Sirius never looked back. That he doesn’t think about Regulus at all. That he’s put his past behind him and forgotten everything.
“May I go up to bed now, Mother? I am quite tired from today’s festivities.”
Walburga Black sits idly in her chair by the fire. She has a cup of tea in her hand, poised with such careful precision the image makes Regulus’s head swim. Her eyes sweep over him, and he stiffens. Regulus forgets too often that his mother likes to pick when she’s had a full day of people watching her. Her only target has been him for quite some time.
“Did you enjoy the party?”
“Yes,” Regulus replies. Carefully enunciating each sound, using a tone that can only be construed as compliant. His mother meets his eyes now, still searching for anything to bite on. Regulus begins recounting the day’s events and how he behaved, praying that he did everything correctly. It’s instinctual now, of course, to do the right things, but no matter how well he performs she always finds something he did wrong.
“Good. I put much effort into the preparation and production of today. All for you.”
“I am grateful for the attention. I hope I prove to be worthy of it in the coming year,” Regulus knows his mother wants to hear him thinking about the future. About proving himself. She obsesses over success and knowing he does too, will be sufficient to deter her for tonight. Walburga’s eyes widen. She never smiles genuinely. But Regulus can tell she’s pleased.
When her expression fades prematurely, he realizes his mistake. Hope. There is no hope here. He should not have allowed a frivolity such as hope to slip into a statement about the future. Hope is for those who don’t have the power to choose their success. As a Black, Regulus must have that power. He’s not sure if his folly will result in the familiar lecture.
“Yes. I, too, hope you prove to be worthy this year.”
Walburga never misses an opportunity to threaten someone to get what she wants. This Regulus knows all too well. Though the one she speaks now is empty. Well, as empty as any threat can be when it comes from his mother. She’s playing with his words; she might be merciful tonight if he corrects himself now.
“I shall prove to be worthy this year. I have no need for hope if I have the power to choose my success.”
It comes off a bit harsh unprompted, but his mother has never been one to shy away from harsh words.
“And so you shall,” she drops her gaze to her tea now, apparently approving of his assertion, “You may retire to your room now. Happy Birthday, my son.”
“Thank you, Mother. Goodnight.”
Regulus makes his way to his room, still clutching the box in his hands. He closes his bedroom door behind him, and after a moment, exhales. The only place in this house that he can breathe. Walburga never enters his room. She summons him with a bell system. Very old fashioned, but it works like a charm. One ring for meals, two for meetings (or what Regulus likes to call interrogations, in his mind of course), and three for guests. Regulus doesn’t mind being summoned in this way, if it means he can be relaxed in his room with the knowledge that no one can intrude on his privacy. Well except for Sirius.
Before Sirius left Grimmauld Place, he and Regulus were always together in each other’s rooms. They were best friends really. Trauma bonded and more. Even through school they never made friends closer than they were to each other. Sirius was not like Regulus though. He never performed well for Walburga. And the day came when she tore him apart.
Sirius never respected Regulus’s space when he lived at Grimmauld, but Regulus never minded. He actually looked forward to Sirius barging into his room at all hours with his ridiculous antics. Stupidly, he still hopes his door will bang open, and he will watch his brother bound into his room and launch onto his bed with a shit-eating grin, immediately spilling details on his latest scheme.
Now he stands in the middle of his bedroom, surveying the emptiness that has become so apparent two years after his brother left. Although Regulus can breathe here, he has never felt as relaxed as he did when Sirius was just a wall away. He doesn’t even see Sirius at school anymore; he had switched schools after he left and now goes to university as far as Regulus knows. The last time he saw his brother was a night he rarely pulls to the forefront of his mind. The unbearable pain following a decision he wishes he didn’t regret; it’s always too much to remember.
He places the box on his desk. He knows that watch will be sewn into his wrist from now on, but at least he’ll have one last night without it. He turns toward his bed, and he doesn’t feel at all inclined to go to it. Maybe he’ll stay up and read. He only has a luncheon to attend tomorrow, so he doesn’t have to leave his bedroom until noon. He grabs the book he’s currently reading from his nightstand, and slides into an armchair in the corner of his room. There’s a table set next to it with an array of candles; he lights his favorite one, a musky scent. It reminds him of Sirius.
About an hour into reading, Regulus jolts out of his chair in fear when a knock sounds at his window. He turns to peer through it, and there crouched on the windowsill in doc martens and a leather jacket is Sirius. Regulus flits through a million emotions in that moment, denial, fear, anger, exhilaration. Settling on fear, Regulus quickly opens the window to let his brother in before they both meet an untimely demise.
“What are you doing here?!”
Sirius crawls through, and hops onto the floor with a loud thud, “What, no hello? No ‘I’ve missed you so much, Sirius’?”
Regulus rolls his eyes, “So sorry, where are my manners? Hello. Now what the hell are you doing here, Sirius?!”
Sirius gives Regulus a look that clearly says, duh isn’t it obvious?
When Regulus shows his lack of understanding, he finally responds with his famous grin, “I’m here to save you!”
Regulus is met with a strong sensation of deja-vu. Flashing back to a year and a half ago when the same words left Sirius’s mouth in the dead of night.
“No. Not again. Nothing has changed, Sirius.”
What is he doing? Surely, he can’t think that just because a year or two has gone by that their mother just forgot about Sirius? That she still won’t chase them both down the second Regulus leaves the same way she threatened to when Sirius left?
“Yes, it has!” Sirius is practically bouncing on his feet with excitement.
“What are you talking about? I need to stay, Sirius. I-I want to stay.”
A year ago when Sirius had said those words, Regulus feared for his brother’s life. Knowing that their mother would unleash a wrath unseen before. So he did the one thing he knew would work. Regulus told Sirius he didn’t want to leave. That he wanted to stay at Grimmauld and be the perfect son that their mother wanted.
When Sirius had valiantly tried to rescue Regulus, and Regulus had practically sneered at his brother in return, Sirius froze. All emotion wiped from his face.
“Y-you want to stay?”
“Yes, Sirius. I want to stay.”
Part of Regulus thought his brother would never forgive him for the things he’d said that night. An even deeper, more hidden part had hoped his brother, his best friend would see through the façade. Sadly, Regulus has always excelled at pretending.
“Please,” Sirius is rolling his eyes, bringing Regulus back to the present, “You’ve never wanted to stay, Reg. I remember exactly what you said when I came last time. And it took me longer than I care to admit, to realize that you were lying. Out. Of. Your. Ass.”
“What?”
“I realized that you said all those things because you thought you were protecting me or whatever. Severing ties so I wouldn’t try to save you again. But you don’t have to protect me anymore Reg. We can both be safe now. With Andromeda.”
“Why? What’s changed? Because as far as I’m concerned, Mother will hunt us down to the ends of the Earth if I leave or do anything that isn’t fitting for the perfect son. You didn’t have a plan last time, Sirius. This is exactly what you had a year and a half ago. So yes, I do have to protect you. Now and always.”
“Not anymore.” Sirius is still a ball of energy and Regulus is starting to get annoyed. He hates that Sirius is actually getting his hopes up. Even though this genius plan of his brother’s will probably have a giant hole in it. They always do. With a genuine, face-breaking smirk, Sirius adds, “Happy Birthday, by the way.”
“Th-thanks, I guess.” Regulus had already forgotten what today had been, after the chaos of this intrusion.
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“Sirius, can you just reveal whatever plan you have so I can tell you how it won’t work, and we can forget this ever happened?”
“My pleasure,” Sirius grins, “You just turned 18 today, December 28th, correct?”
Regulus rolls his eyes, “Yes, I think I know how old I am.”
“Ah-ah-ah, I bet you haven’t done too much reading on English laws about emancipation though?”
Now Regulus thinks he knows Sirius’s plan. And it won’t work. Hope is a fucking menace.
“It won’t stop her.”
“It doesn’t have to. We already have.”
“What?”
“Meda went to the police. They know everything about Mother. Well, they know enough. She’s downstairs right now talking to Mother. It’s over, Reg. I would’ve gotten you sooner, but Meda didn’t know enough. I didn’t tell her how bad it was here. Not until a couple weeks ago. When she knew the truth, she started to involve the police, social services, whoever. The police made us wait until today because we knew you weren’t in immediate danger and now that you’re finally a legal adult it makes it easier to leave.”
“Wait, Andromeda’s here? And she’s talking to Mother?”
Sirius is now walking to Regulus’s closet, “Yep! You still keep your luggage in here, right? We probably can’t take everything tonight, then again, I doubt you want to keep much of this stuff—”
“Sirius.”
Sirius stops at the door to the closet and turns back to face Regulus, “Yeah?”
“I don’t want to go.”
His brother looks at him. Regulus’s fear is painted all over his face, he’s not even trying to hide it. He can’t fathom leaving Grimmauld once and for all. Nor does he like the images playing through his mind right now, most including a vengeful Walburga Black storming to wherever Regulus and Sirius are and dragging them both back to Grimmauld. Or worse. Only taking Regulus back. It’s just easier to stay. At least one of them will be free. Regulus is very comfortable with the life he lives here in the Black household. He knows he will do well, be successful, make his mother happy. He has never worried about his own happiness. He had good memories as a kid, he thinks. With Sirius. That was always enough.
“Regulus. I get it, okay? I realize that this is all very sudden, and that it might seem like this plan will fail. But just come downstairs with me and see. Andromeda’s thought of everything. Mother can’t get to either of us anymore.”
Regulus doesn’t know what to do. He absolutely does not want to see Walburga being threatened and backed into a corner. He has no idea what his mother will do. But he doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep at night if he doesn’t see the resignation on his mother’s face. That is the only thing that could convince him that they will both be safe if he leaves.
Regulus nods, “Okay.”
After packing up a bag of essentials from Regulus’s room, they step out into the hallway and immediately two voices fill their ears. Sirius gives Regulus a reassuring glance before they start toward the stairs. They can’t make out what’s being said until they’re just outside of the living room. They hover in the hallway to observe without interrupting or being seen. Walburga is sitting in the same chair she had been just a few hours ago, but now it’s Andromeda on the couch where Regulus had been.
“You truly believe me a monster, Andromeda? I have done nothing but try to raise two perfect sons.”
“And in doing so, you hurt them both. Deeply. Irreparably.”
“I did no such thing,” Walburga is leaning forward, incredulous at the accusation, “Everything I did was to make them succeed. They should be grateful for my unrelenting dedication to their success!”
“And Sirius? Should he be ‘grateful’ for the way you treated him when he first expressed his sexuality?” Andromeda throws back.
Regulus sees Sirius flinch beside him. Sirius really did tell Andromeda everything, didn’t he? Regulus tries not to think about that day. When Sirius came out to their parents. Sirius had known for a while that he was gay. He would talk to Regulus about it, explaining how he found out at school what it meant to be gay or bisexual or a lesbian. They had never learned those things from their parents. Regulus remembers how Sirius glowed when he came out to him. Saying things like, everything makes so much sense now! and I’ve never looked at girls the way my friends do.
That all ended when Sirius told their parents. Their family had never discussed sexuality before, but both boys felt they knew where their parents stood on the subject. Considering how many times Walburga and Orion had tried to talk up the daughters of their friends, it wasn’t a hard guess. Regulus tried to deter Sirius, but Sirius knew what he was getting into. He wanted the wrath of their mother. He was trying to protect Regulus. For the billionth time.
Regulus had failed a math exam that week. He’d studied instead of slept for the two nights before it and fell asleep halfway through the exam. When Sirius found out, he said he’d take care of it. That Mother wouldn’t even bat an eye at his grade after Sirius’s scheme. He was right of course. Walburga never did anything about Regulus’s mark.
Oh, but she did raise all hell on Sirius when he announced that he was gay at the dinner table that night.
Regulus was horrified to see Walburga’s reaction. In an instant, it felt as though all the air had been sucked from the room, and Sirius had been marked for murder by the way her eyes found his. Sirius, the brave idiot he was, just smiled back at her. Their father chose that moment, as he always did, to make a graceful exit with some false excuse about expecting a phone call from work. Walburga then sent Regulus to his room. If Regulus had been less of a coward, he might have tried to stay. But he is who he always has been. He only spared a moment to catch Sirius’s eye, communicating a silent thank you, before leaving the table and heading for the stairs. He’d almost closed his bedroom door when the shouting began.
He’d sat on the edge of his bed all night, waiting to hear Sirius’s footsteps pad through the hallway. A little over an hour later, Regulus heard footsteps coming down the hallway. He jumped off his bed, ran out of his bedroom and saw Sirius leaning against a wall ten feet away. He smiled proudly when he saw Regulus.
“See? She completely forgot about your bad mark!”
“Siri, what did she do?!”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
Regulus soon found out exactly what their mother had done to Sirius that night. She’d burned his hands on the stove. His hands were blistering and red; they didn’t heal for months after and Sirius couldn’t write at all while they did. He had to tell everyone that he’d stupidly tried to take food out of the oven without oven mitts. He still has scars over two years later.
That was the beginning of the end. Sirius knew he didn’t want to stay at Grimmauld anymore. He spent his last months testing their mother. Wondering what it would take to finally make her give up on him. He succeeded. She disowned him the day she found him in his room with another boy. They weren’t even doing anything, but it was enough. Through all of it, Regulus had taken care of his brother. He’d get burned every time he ‘acted out’, and Regulus became an expert on treating them.
When Walburga disowned him, Regulus was in his own room. Hearing every word. She spewed so much hatred and disgust at Sirius, all for his sexuality. Regulus thought she might kill him. But at some point, during all her rage, she just, went quiet.
“You are not my son. I do not know you, and I do not want to. Leave this house. Never come back.”
And he did.
Sirius packed a bag and left.
Couldn’t even say goodbye to Regulus.
Mother didn’t allow it.
That’s when she’d said those words that still haunt Regulus, holding him hostage in this house. Using the bond between him and Sirius to keep Regulus from leaving.
He shakes himself out of the memory, knowing that he needs to hear the present conversation to rid those words from his mind once and for all.
Walburga’s expression hardens, her tone changing from defensive to venomous, “Yes. If he would have listened to me, he could have stayed in this house. Like Regulus. Regulus understands that Sirius was foolish when he spoke those things. Naïve boy, Sirius was. Always finding new ways to create chaos in my house. Refusing to be the son I taught him to be. That act about being ‘gay’,” the word drips with disgust as it leaves her lips, “it was only the last straw. He disappointed me countless times prior. He failed me. Thankfully I did not need him. I had my Regulus. My perfect boy. And now you want to take him from me?”
Regulus stiffens, but Sirius is quick to take his hand and squeeze.
“He isn’t safe with you, Walburga. I know what you’ve done. And so do the police.”
Walburga Black only smiles at this. Sickly and demented in its form. “You think I can be tied down by the law?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then you have sorely underestimated my connections.”
“Have I?” Walburga’s smile falters and Andromeda continues, “I have found every single one of your connections whether they are your consistently absent husband’s, or your own. I assure you. Although you weren’t in the past, you are tied down by the law now.”
Walburga stares blankly at Andromeda, and it feels as though life itself is holding its breath in wait of her reaction.
From where Regulus is watching, his mother looks as calculating as ever when she finally responds, “I see." Walburga just leans back in her chair, and folds her hands together. Chills run down Regulus's spine as she calmly asks, “What are your terms?”
“I am taking Regulus out of this house tonight. You shall cease any and all contact with both Sirius and Regulus from this point forth. If I find out you have broken these terms in any manner, I will not hesitate to put you behind bars.”
Andromeda pulls a large yellow envelope out of her purse, takes a packet of papers from inside it, and slides them across the coffee table. Walburga stares at the papers. She looks back at Andromeda, “May I make one last request of my son? If he agrees, I will sign.”
Andromeda hesitates for a moment but turns toward the entrance of the living room and calls, “You can come in now boys.”
Regulus and Sirius exchange a glance before entering. Walburga turns to look at them both. Regulus sees it then, painting her face, resignation. It doesn't give him the relief he would've expected; its false, and she's only playing a part before she makes her move. They sit down on the couch with Andromeda, Regulus closest to Mother.
“Hello, Regulus. It’s good to see you,” Andromeda smiles at him and it's warm and unfamiliar, “I am assuming you both heard that last bit of our discussion?”
Regulus nods.
“Good,” she gives Regulus her full attention now, “Are you willing to let her make one request of you?” Andromeda pauses to glare daggers at Walburga before adding, “As long as it's reasonable?”
Before Regulus can answer, his mother grabs his wrist and pulls it toward her. He flinches at the sudden touch but meets her eyes. He can see the desperation in them as she speaks, “Regulus, my son, all I want is for you to be more than I could. Do more than I could. So, I shall ask for one thing.”
“You swear that you will sign those papers if I agree?”
“Yes.”
“I want to know first. What you want."
Her eyes widen with pride, and Regulus just knows she's taking credit for his distrust, “My son. Will you become a doctor like we planned? A surgeon? I know you are passionate about it, and I want that success for you.”
Regulus is shocked to say the least. He doesn't trust her. His eyes fall onto where she holds his wrist in her grip. Fitting. Regulus had always operated under the assumption that his mother would keep him in her clawed grip for the rest of his life. That her control would be relentless and suffocating until she died. But there wasn't even comfort in the thought of her dying because Regulus had the horribly realistic impression that if anyone was to evade death it would be Walburga Black.
He hadn’t thought this would be the request she would make. Of course Regulus always knew this was the intension in everything she'd done, in the way she had raised Sirius and Regulus. But he has an unshakable feeling that his mother is not surrendering with this 'last request' of him. That if anything, she's just as cunning as she always was, and her hands will be wrapped around his throat for eternity somehow. Even at a distance. A sick picture of the sword of Damocles hanging above his head as he walks into his future flashes through Regulus's mind, and he has to shake himself to dispel the image from his mind.
It's not a sacrifice, to do what she asks, as he'd become so enamored with the career already, so if there's even a shred of a chance at restraining his mother with this agreement he's going to go along with it.
He brings his eyes up to meet his mother's, and it doesn't feel any different from the thousands of 'yes's he's said to her already, "I will become a surgeon. Like we planned."
Walburga's eyes widen again and Regulus doesn't miss the conniving glint in her eyes, "Thank you."
Regulus feels whatever hold he has on his fear slipping now, the panic threatening to break him.
But then Walburga lets go of Regulus’s hand, pulls a pen from oblivion, and signs the papers. As she hands them to Andromeda, she says, “You have my word that I will never contact my son again.”
“I don’t need your word,” Andromeda is staring at Walburga with a hatred unparalleled to any other, “Should you ever do anything to connect to either Sirius or Regulus again, it will be the last thing you do. That is my word.”
With that, Andromeda stands and marches straight out of the house. Sirius doesn’t waste any time following suit, picking up Regulus’s bags as he goes. He turns back to see Regulus having stalled his own exit to look back at his mother.
“Reggie, c’mon, let’s go.”
There’s a hint of fear slipping into those words that matches Regulus's own, so he doesn’t take long to say his farewell. He takes a moment to examine his mother’s features, remarking the way the creases in her forehead have left permanent marks in her skin. He’s seen the contortions of his mother’s face through almost all emotions, but this one he does not recognize. The way her eyes are softened, her lips turned down ever so slightly, not the usual full frown he sees so often, this one is mild. Her eyebrows are relaxed. Not knit together in frustration or severity. He thinks she looks sad.
“Goodbye, Mother.”
“Goodbye, Regulus.”
And hindsight would allow Regulus to know that Walburga Black would only exist in memories from that day forward.
***
Regulus never knew just how horrible he’d felt living with his mother for so long. He’d truthfully thought that most parents were like his mother, and that going to Andromeda’s wouldn’t be much different.
Except that he’d see Sirius.
So, for the first few weeks, Regulus treated Andromeda in almost the same way he’d treated his mother. He behaved very formally, never allowing any nonchalance in his mannerisms or speech. It wasn’t until Andromeda caught on that the ice broke.
“Regulus?”
“Yes, Andromeda?”
“You don’t have to behave that way anymore, you know that, right?”
“How do you mean?”
“I’m not your mother, Regulus. Whatever she had expected of you and your behavior, whether it was that scarily impeccable posture or your equally scary formal speech, I don’t expect that at all.”
“How else am I meant to behave?”
Andromeda’s expression turns pitying for a moment, but is instantly replaced by a smile, “Be yourself, sweetheart. Slouch at the table, sprawl out in the middle of the floor, laugh obnoxiously like your brother, don’t laugh or talk at all. There are no rules here. I’m not going to force you to be someone you aren’t, Regulus. I only want you to be and do what makes you happy.”
For emphasis, Andromeda reaches into her bowl of spaghetti with her bare hand, pulls a large handful out, covered in sauce, and bites right into it. Regulus’s eyes widen, utterly bewildered by this action. He’s fighting a laugh bubbling in his throat as sauce drips down Andromeda’s chin, a feeling he hasn’t experienced in quite a long time.
“Mother would kill me if I ever did such a thing,” he’s unable to fight the exasperation and awe that seep through those words.
“Doesn’t that make it all the more fun?” Andromeda’s mouth is still half full so they words come out around the food, “She can’t stop you from doing anything anymore, Regulus. You have every path available to you now; there are no closed doors. So leave no stone unturned.”
Regulus hadn’t thought about that. As soon as they'd left Grimmauld, he'd demanded to see exactly what Andromeda and the police had done to make sure his mother was well and truly powerless. He felt it then, the fear finally leaving him, quickly being replaced by a relief sweeter than he ever could've imagined. Apparently his mind couldn't even wrap around the idea that maybe he didn't have to continue abiding by her rules even after he'd left. Now it washes over him.
Untouchable.
Free.
Regulus looks down at his own bowl of pasta.
“Leave no stone unturned.”
In a flourish, Regulus shoves his hand into the bowl, immediately feeling the cold sauce dripping everywhere, pulls it up and to his mouth where he takes an enormous bite. Andromeda is whooping and laughing, and Regulus is shocked by how good the spaghetti tastes, wondering if maybe freedom has a taste, too.
***
“Regulus! Lunch is ready!” Andromeda calls from downstairs.
“Be down in a second!” he calls back, eyes immediately tracking the page he was just reading to find his place.
He has the window open with a soft breeze flowing into the room, sweet flowery smells wafting along with it. His hand continues to scratch Juno (Meda's husky) absentmindedly on his back as they both sit on his bed.
It’s late May, and Regulus has just finished secondary school, now able to enjoy the summer before he heads to college in a couple months. Sirius has visited a couple times on weekend trips, and Regulus can’t wait for him to finally come home for the summer holiday. He already finished exams last week but went on a trip with his friends, so he’ll be heading home this weekend.
These past months, living with Andromeda, have been exhausting. Not in a bad way. In the best way. Regulus has slowly adjusted to not living at Grimmauld, and every new liberty he encounters is another sigh of relief. Gradually feeling the stress, anxiety, and overall tension in his body and mind drain away has been simultaneously frightening and wonderful. But there’s a lot to it. Relearning how to live. It’s definitely been exhausting. But Regulus loves every second. He feels like he’s reinventing himself, one day at a time.
Of course, some things have stuck from before. Regulus is still more sarcastic than lighthearted. He’s still quiet rather than loud and outspoken. He still enjoys being alone more than being in a crowd of people. He still doesn't trust easily, coming off cold and detached to anyone he's not comfortable with. He still cares deeply about success. That, he thinks, is something he’ll never lose. Something his mother possibly carved into his very soul, though he’d have no evidence to prove it.
But he likes who he’s become. He wouldn’t have guessed that smiling comes quite naturally when he’s relaxed. Or that he likes loud music blasting through speakers when he’s in his room. Or that he likes dogs. Or that Meda’s bright and happy demeanor was only annoying before because he was jealous of how open and loving she was, and now that he’s free to be that too, he doesn’t find her annoying at all.
Okay, maybe a little bit, like when she barges into his room when he’s reading.
Regulus looks up from his book to watch as his bedroom door swings open, and Andromeda sweeps in. He fights not to roll his eyes, knowing full well he won’t be getting back to his book now that she’s come all the way to his room. It was at a really good part, too.
Meda’s completely disheveled, apron covered in about ten different substances that Regulus hopes are all food related, hair tied in a knot with coils springing out every which way, and she’s still holding a spatula that’s now dripping something on the carpet.
Regulus is adding this specific moment to the newly formed (although small) list of annoying things about Meda when she starts, “Oh! Sorry I didn’t realize you were reading!”
She’s bouncing around in the doorway, her eyes alight with glee, and boy does Regulus wish he could just throw a blanket over himself and continue reading because this display is just torturously annoying.
Meda, too smart for her own good sometimes, can tell Regulus is not enthused by the interruption, “Right! I’ll get to it! Your brother’s coming home today! I just talked to him on the phone, and he said they’re only a couple hours away!”
Regulus sits up in his chair, the pillow from behind his back plopping on the ground in the process, “Wait, what? I thought Sirius wouldn’t be back until this weekend?”
Meda smiles, “Yes, well. Apparently, the trip was a bust because they got food poisoning from a diner in the town they went to.”
“Oh, that’s, erm, unfortunate,” Regulus tries his best to put some sincerity into those words, but he really doesn’t see the situation as unfortunate at all. At least not for him.
“Yes, truly unfortunate,” Meda winks at that last bit, and sweeps out of the room calling behind her, “Now come eat before you wither away reading your book!”
Regulus takes a moment to smile to himself at the new information. Sirius is coming home. For the whole summer. And then they’ll be at college together, too. Regulus has only spent a few weekends with Sirius since moving to Meda’s, and every time Sirius went back to school Regulus wanted to just go with him. He had always been content just being near Sirius when they were younger, apparently that hasn’t changed.
A few hours later, Sirius is in the middle of a monologue about the trip his friends had taken, explaining how they had stopped for breakfast at a diner called Fortescue’s, and not ten minutes after they got back in the car everyone felt awful.
Regulus plugs his ears before Sirius gets too into the details of the food poisoning. Sirius waves him down, “Alright, alright, I’m done, no more talking about the horrid trip! What have you been up to, Reg?”
“Well, nothing really. I’ve been relaxing since school got out, for the most part.”
Meda pipes up then, "We've actually been--"
"Doing a lot of housework! Meda really wanted to clean this place up for the summer!" Regulus finishes for her. His lying skills must have diminished in the last six months because one look at the kitchen would prove his statement wrong. He silently pleads with Meda to understand, and thankfully she nods back minutely, going along with it.
Though Sirius is left look between the both of them in utter confusion, “Okay, that was weird,” he says slowly, but they're safe from an interrogation as he happens upon an idea, “Oh! Reg, we should go shopping!”
And at that Regulus taps back into the conversation.
Of all the things that Regulus has discovered about himself, of all the things that have changed since leaving Grimmauld, Regulus has not felt the need to touch his wardrobe. For reference, his closet consists of mostly black slacks and fancy dress-shirts, if not the occasional sweater, also black (or very dark, muted colors). Since he’s been at Andromeda’s, he’s worn the same things as always, except for when he steals Sirius’s shirts and sweatpants that he’d left behind.
He’s seen Sirius’s clothes enough to know his brother definitely did not care for the clothes their mother forced them to wear. Sirius’s wardrobe consists of anything and everything that would give Walburga Black a heart attack if she saw it. There’s actually a lot of room to do so considering their mother hates anything cheap-looking or anything with color. Sirius apparently went straight to the thrift stores the second he left Grimmauld; his closet is full of old t-shirts with crude phrases on them or obnoxious colors, cropped band t-shirts, tight jeans (Walburga also despised jeans), and the love of his life, his leather jacket. And some recent additions have been more feminine which never got the express disapproval of Walburga, but who are they kidding? Of course she’d hate it. There’s a few skirts, flowery print shirts, pinks and purples mixed in. Regulus must admit, he’s been tempted to try on a few of Sirius’s more colorful clothing items. He blames it on the fact that he’s literally never worn a color other than black, grey, or dark green.
“Shopping?” his face scrunches in disgust on instinct as he turns to look at Sirius, even though he can feel a rising curiosity at the prospect.
“Yes, it’s about time we got you out of those clothes,” Sirius glimpses at Regulus’s outfit in disdain before looking back up, “We’ll go tomorrow!”
Regulus is about to say no when those damn words run through his head.
“Leave no stone unturned.”
It’s in Meda’s voice, of course. And no this isn’t the first time. Apparently, every time Regulus is about to say no to anything he hears that phrase. It’s a bit frustrating, honestly. But he finds himself listening anyway.
“Okay.”
Sirius reels back in shock at his response, but Meda just smiles and continues eating. The rest of dinner is spent discussing various topics, including the grand news of Sirius’s new boyfriend, a one Remus Lupin. Regulus had already heard enough on the subject the first night Sirius had spent talking his ear off on one of his weekend visits. It was all Remus this and Remus that, and he very ungracefully brushed past the fact that he was dating absolutely every other boy at their school except Remus. Regulus sort of hoped this Remus boy didn’t like Sirius back, just thinking how painful it would be to witness Sirius’s various dating excursions. Sirius hadn't been round since before spring break as he had stayed on campus every weekend after to study for final exams, so Regulus and Meda were not up to date on the subject. But everything was exposed at dinner. Everything being that Remus did in fact reciprocate his feelings, and after some drama between them and their friends they figured everything out and started dating.
Regulus had also timed how long it took before Sirius mentioned James Potter when he first got home.
He clocked it at about a minute and a half.
If anything, Regulus feels like an expert on Sirius’s uni friends. There’s Peter of course, who shares a dorm with Sirius and is his best friend from his last year of secondary school. Then there’s James, who shares a dorm with Remus next door to Sirius and Peter. James is apparently Sirius’s “platonic soulmate” or something. When Regulus had first moved to Andromeda’s, Sirius had talked nonstop about James. At first, Regulus believed Sirius was in love with James and not Remus.
“When are you going to ask this James Potter out, then? Do you even know if he’s, well, you know?”
“What?! Ask—ask James out? Oh my god! That’s hilarious!”
He still wouldn’t be surprised to hear if they started dating. Just the way Sirius talks about James you’d think they were bloody married. He doesn’t like James all that much. He doesn’t like any of Sirius’s friends all that much. He doesn’t have a valid reason as he’s only met one of them, and well, Peter was hard to hate. He’s only comforted now by the fact that he won’t be meeting the rest of Sirius’s friends for three months.
Sirius and Regulus find themselves laying on Regulus’s bed talking for hours into the night. The room is lit only by the lamp on Regulus’s nightstand, and they’re lying in opposite directions across the bed. Regulus has never felt so at peace since Sirius left Grimmauld. He never thought they’d have a night like this again. Because they used to. So much. Back at Grimmauld when the atmosphere was tense and cold in every room, they always found peace in Regulus’s room on late nights.
Tonight is different, though. Sirius doesn’t have to protect Regulus, and Regulus doesn’t need to be protected. Now they can breathe. A silent pact is made between them to not talk about it tonight. So they talk about everything else instead. And they laugh. And Regulus can feel the mountains being moved in this moment to heal his past. Knowing that they’re both untouchable now.
Sirius and Regulus talk until the sky lightens into dusty pinks and blues and the sun begins to rise.
***
Regulus can hear muffled voices carrying through the house as he cracks open his eyes in the morning light. He’s buried deep in the blankets—he knows full well Sirius flung them onto Regulus when he'd gotten up earlier—and it takes him an extended amount of time to actually emerge from his bed and leave his room. He’s ninety percent sure he only slept about three hours, so the only thing he’s thinking about as he gets downstairs is the pot of coffee he can smell. Sirius and Meda must’ve been mid-conversation, but Sirius is addressing Regulus now, and again, he’s on three hours of sleep so his ears are not functioning properly, and he needs coffee.
Once he gets his mug down from the cupboard—a gag gift Meda got him months ago that reads sarcasm is my superpower across it—fills it to the brim, and adds the necessary sugar and milk, he gets his first sip and feels his brain finally start working. Although Regulus has formed many new habits, this is not one. Regulus has been surviving on a borderline lethal caffeine addiction since he started secondary. Well actually, since Sirius started rebelling against their mother in secondary and Regulus had to work overnight on his schoolwork to make sure he wasn’t thrown in with any of Sirius’s punishments. But he’d never tell Sirius that.
He finally hears when Sirius speaks to him, “Right. Forgot you have a death wish in the form of a caffeine addiction.”
Regulus raises his eyebrows, gesturing to his mug as he responds, “This is your fault.”
Apparently he would tell Sirius that.
Sirius squawks in offense, “How is that my fault?”
Regulus just continues to drink his coffee.
“Ugh, whatever. I was saying that I want to leave in a half hour. I know the best places and I wanna get a head start before the midday traffic crowds the stores.”
Regulus blinks. He’d forgotten what he’d agreed to last night.
Sirius narrows his eyes, “Regulus?”
“What? No—yeah that’s fine, I can be ready in a half hour.”
“Mhmm,” Sirius just gives him a skeptical once over and flounces off upstairs.
Regulus leans against the counter, staring into his mug, vaguely wondering how horrible this shopping experience will be. He only remembers that Meda’s in the kitchen as well when the sink turns on. He knows she’ll have her say about this in a moment. All it takes is for them to make eye contact and then she’ll be launching into a long-winded lecture or story or something.
Sure enough as she turns to face him she gives him that look and immediately bursts, “I think it’s a brilliant idea that you guys are going shopping together, Regulus!”
She really looks it, too. Like she’ll explode with the happiness this is bringing her. It’s not anything rare, though, Andromeda has always—or well since Regulus has lived with her and gotten to know her—been bursting with whatever emotions she’s feeling. She’s not one to hide them, nor is she capable of it if she had wanted to. Regulus likes it, though. After so many years living in a house that frowned upon (at the very least) showing emotions wildly and freely, it feels like a breath of fresh air to know that Andromeda’s house has that exact opposite rule. Or no rule at all.
“Yeah well, I figured I could use some new clothes. Ones with color for a change,” he smirks.
“I never was a fan of your pretentious asshole look,” she smirks back.
Regulus snorts, “I had no idea you held such strong opinions about my style.”
“Are you excited to do this, though?” Andromeda asks, unsure.
Regulus takes a moment to consider it, and he finds that he actually is excited to hang out with Sirius today. The shopping part could be a disaster, but Regulus doesn’t think he’ll mind much if the two of them have a good time otherwise. He tells Andromeda exactly that, having long overcome the urge to lie and hide his true emotions from her, “Yeah, I actually am. I’m not sure how successful the shopping will be, but I think everything else should be fun.”
Again, Andromeda looks like she’s about to combust with happiness. She apparently can’t help herself from squeezing the life out of him, his coffee mug still in hand.
Regulus must be very caffeinated right now because not only is he allowing this hug to happen, he’s relaxing into it.
It’s just nice.
Sirius is home, they’re right about to go hang out for the day, and Regulus has spent the last six months slowly healing the pain of his childhood and life at Grimmauld. So he might actually just be
Happy?
Maybe.
“Alright alright, I have to go get dressed at some point,” Regulus says.
Meda pulls back, smiling, “Of course, go get ready! I can make you guys breakfast real quick before you go.”
“Yeah that’d be good, thanks Meda.”
With that, she turns to the cabinets to pull out ingredients, Regulus goes back upstairs, mug still in hand. He can hear music playing from Sirius’s room and it’s familiar. He couldn’t produce the name or artist if his life depended on it, but he definitely remembers the lyrics and beat from when Sirius would jam his earbuds in Regulus’s ears when they were younger. Walburga never cared for anything other than classical or jazz music, and Regulus, always trying to be the golden child, hadn’t explored music outside of that either. And well, he had no need because those genres were the best silence fillers and ambience for reading. All other music took over loudly, prohibiting attention to drift from the music. Regulus supposes he never minded Sirius’s music, though. It was mostly classic rock, which is a lot of guitar and drums. The opening lyrics of a new song echo through the upstairs now.
I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things
We can do the tango just for two
I can serenade and gently play on your heart strings
Be your Valentino just for you
The voices are familiar, the higher pitch reminding him of other songs he’s heard from this band. Maybe Regulus should start looking into different music. The thought really hadn’t crossed his mind as he’d been so content with the music he’d already known. He could probably get Sirius to show him some at some point today.
A little over a half hour later, Sirius and Regulus are on the road heading downtown. Regulus has been shopping with his mother many times before, but they always consisted of high-end outlets where you actually drank champagne and ate biscuits while you shopped. Even then Regulus never had much control over what he wore, his mother just commanded everyone in each bloody shop to get whatever she wanted for him. Even if they had to ship the garment in from across the world.
Sirius has been going on and on about the parts of London that have the best thrifting spots, and Regulus is honestly excited to see what they’ll find for him. He wouldn’t mind picking out a few items similar to what he’s seen in Sirius’s closet, but he also wants to find things that really are him. He’s quickly attaching to the idea that he’ll be able to express himself with clothes now. Yet another way to redefine himself after his caged-up childhood, right?
They have to walk a few blocks to get to the shops from where they parked, and Sirius is thrilled to see that the streets are mostly empty. The first shop they enter looks pretty dingy on the outside, with blacked out windows and a sign that reads Utopia, but the ‘i’ is missing the dot. Regulus gives Sirius a look as if to say, are you sure this isn’t somewhere we’ll be murdered?
Their silent communication skills must be pretty intact because Sirius just rolls his eyes and pulls open the door. The darkness of the shop immediately consumes them, and it takes a moment for Regulus’s eyes to adjust to it after being in the bright morning sunlight.
The shop seems to be separated with one side dedicated to old records and everything music related and the other lined with clothing racks.
Sirius turns to Regulus, “Okay so I’m thinking we should stick together because thrifting is a skill you definitely do not have.”
“Fine, but I get the final say on whatever I’m trying on,” Regulus replies.
“Deal!” Sirius then turns back to the store, “I know where we should start,” and then he’s beelining through the racks.
They end up in the pants section, and Sirius is just pulling random pairs of trousers off the rack that are in Regulus’s size to see his reaction. Regulus can tell Sirius is pulling most items based on his own taste which really isn’t helping.
“Sirius, you’ll see me dead before you’ll see me in leather, please put those back,” he shoves the pair of tight leather pants back into Sirius’s chest.
“Ugh fine! I’m not picking things out anymore, you start looking at the racks for yourself and see what suits your fancy. But make sure to check with me before really considering it because it might be a really cheap material,” he adds, “I’ll be on the other side looking for my own sizes.”
Regulus just huffs and does exactly that. Most of the pants are jeans, really tight jeans that again, Regulus wouldn’t be caught dead in. But after a minute or so he finds a pair of high-waisted slacks. He’s like ninety-nine percent sure Sirius will say those are exactly what Regulus has been wearing his entire life, but he’d be wrong. The slacks Regulus wore all those years were extremely fancy, not high-waisted, and so fucking heavy. The material weighed him down so much it was a relief to take them off at the end of the day. But these ones, they’re a light material and cropped? And they aren’t fitted, they’re kind of flowy. He decides he might as well get it over with and ask Sirius for his oh-so-reliable opinion.
Regulus meets his brother in an aisle, holds up the trousers and says, “What about these?”
Sirius who was very concentrated on searching through the clothes, looks up at Regulus and then takes a long surveying look at the trousers he’s holding out. Sirius’s face is inscrutable as he continues to look, and then he finally speaks, “Huh. Those are actually pretty cool. It’s definitely not my style but I could see you wearing those with like a crop top or maybe a blouse or something.”
Sirius looks sort of impressed as he says this, and Regulus feels emboldened by it.
Just a bit.
Then Regulus’s brows furrow, “Aren’t blouses meant for girls, though?”
He knows Sirius wears girls’ clothes, but he’d like to know what the reasoning is behind it. Besides the obvious ‘it would give Walburga Black a heart attack’ one, that is.
Sirius stares at Regulus for a moment, thinking, and then he grins, “Who says?”
Regulus looks back at him, but he considers the question for a moment. Who did decide that skirts and dresses and blouses were meant for girls only? And why did everyone listen?
“So is everyone just breaking those rules now?” Regulus asks.
“Sort of,” Sirius continues, “It’s kind of like everyone just realized that they were stupid rules that didn’t need to exist anyway, so they just said ‘fuck that’ and started dressing however they wanted.”
“That’s er, that’s kind of cool.”
Sirius smiles then, widely like he’s been dying to hear those words for a long time. Regulus can’t help but smile back, and then they’re just two idiot brothers grinning at each other in the middle of a thrift store called Utopia.
Sirius seems to happen upon a brilliant idea because he makes a face and says, “Oh! Do you wanna go look at the girl’s clothes then?! They have a lot of better pants similar to those ones,” he points at the pants Regulus is still holding, “And blouses, we can try to find one to match with them!”
“Okay.”
“Yes!” Sirius grabs the slacks and looks them over again as they walk through the aisles.
Ten minutes later, Regulus has pulled five more pairs of pants off the rack in the girls’ section, including a couple pairs of 80s jeans. They both migrate to the tops section, milling through both the men’s and women’s racks.
And in another ten minutes, Sirius has found the perfect blouse to match with the first pair of trousers. After this particular find, Regulus decides he’s ready to go to the fitting rooms with his clothes. Sirius goes with if only to give his opinions and help if Regulus needs it.
Soon enough Regulus is turning the lock on the door of a small fitting room with a bench, a mirror, and a couple hooks on the wall. He hangs up the clothes and sets about picking the first pair of pants he’d found and pulling it off the hanger. He’s feeling strangely nervous as he pulls on the slacks, mixed between hope that they fit and look good as well as a rather deeper sensation that this moment has an undeniable importance wrapped around it.
Regulus turns to the mirror half squinting in anxiety of what he’ll see in the reflection. He gradually opens his eyes completely, and well.
Let’s just say, Regulus is in love.
The slacks fit perfectly, sitting up near his belly button and falling at his shins. He realizes that he’ll need taller shoes to wear with these if he wants to really wear them with an outfit or something. He feels a jolt of excitement at the idea of wearing something so put together as to be called an outfit. His eyes drift to the blouse hanging up among the other clothes, and he feels the nerves from moments ago threatening to return. He takes off the boring button up he’d put on this morning and throws it on the bench.
Once he’s buttoned up the green blouse and tucked it into the slacks, he prepares to turn back to his reflection again. It feels silly. Being so invested in this moment. But he flashes back to when he saw Sirius wearing his leather jacket for the first time, and he remembers just how much more Sirius looked like himself with it on. Not to mention the sheer joy and confidence radiating from Sirius as he wore it. Regulus wants that. He wants to feel confident. He wants to feel beautiful. To be seen by others and perceived as those things. So he accepts the nerves he feels as he turns to the mirror.
And once again he feels his heart swell with a happiness previously unknown. He does a bit of fixing the blouse, just messing with how it’s tucked in, and then he just basks in his reflection. He’s smiling like a goon in the mirror, and he couldn’t care less. He’s having all sorts of ideas of how to accessorize and pull together the outfit with necklaces and rings when his brother calls to him from the other side of the door, “How’s it going in there, Reg?”
Regulus notes the hint of nerves in Sirius’s voice, and he himself feels a flare of them as he decides to open the door. Sirius takes a few steps from the door as Regulus opens it and comes out. There’s a set of mirrors in the seating area, but Regulus just stands in front of Sirius, “What do you think?”
He watches intently at Sirius’s face to get his answer. Sirius just looks at him in the outfit in awe, “This is so weird.”
Regulus worries for a moment that Sirius is talking about the outfit, but he can’t be, can he? Not when he has that fascinated smile plastered on his face. Regulus checks anyway, “Good weird?”
Sirius meets his eyes finally, and smiles wide, “Absolutely. Reg, it’s like you finally look like yourself!” Something in Regulus lights up at that, and Sirius continues, “I mean I think I’ll always remember the proper clothing you used to wear, but this,” he gestures to the outfit, “it just makes so much more sense,” his eyes widen, and Regulus knows that look so well; he’s got an idea, “Oh! Hold on!”
Suddenly, Sirius is falling on his arse in the middle of the floor and he’s grabbing at his doc martens, furiously undoing the laces and buckle before pulling them off his feet. He thrusts the shoes at Regulus from where he sits on the floor, “Here! Put these on right now!”
Regulus takes the shoes and sits himself on one of the chairs. He quite likes these boots, they’ve always matched Sirius’s style so well, but Regulus thinks they won’t fit his style nearly as well. He laces them up and does the buckle at the tops, and really, it’s convenient that Sirius and Regulus have very similarly sized feet. They’re very tall boots, with a chunky sole, and when Regulus stands he has to adjust to the new height before turning to the mirror.
Sirius just hisses, “Yes!” and Regulus can hear the unspoken I knew it that follows.
For the third time, Regulus takes in his reflection.
He automatically breaks into that smile again. The boots give him a good height that make the slacks fall right at the tops. Nice and flowing. It fits so well. He takes in his whole appearance then, surveying how the boots match with him, and yeah. He was so wrong. These boots are absolutely his style. He needs a pair. Like now. He’s lost in thought for a moment as he pictures wearing a pair of these boots with varying outfits.
“These are mine now,” Regulus informs his brother, looking at him through the mirror.
Sirius just laughs, “Absolutely not,” he pauses, “But if you want your own pair, we can certainly do that.”
Regulus just nods furiously back, and Sirius breaks out laughing again, Regulus joining him with an exasperation at how happy he feels.
The rest of the clothes go similarly well, save for one pair of jeans that didn’t fit, and soon Regulus and Sirius had walked out of Utopia with their bags of clothes in hand.
A couple hours later, Regulus and Sirius have sat down to lunch with their shopping bags surrounding them, one of Regulus’s including a fresh new pair of white doc martens. Regulus feels oddly content sitting here in the middle of the mall, even though the hundreds of people around them should be making him feel at least slightly on edge, he’s just—okay. Regulus and Sirius managed to get to two other thrift shops and tour the best stores in the mall before they got here. Sirius had found a lot of clothes for himself, but Regulus struggled to find much more than what he'd got from the first shop. They did however successfully find Regulus the doc martens he desperately needed. They had the exact pair that Sirius wore, but when Regulus locked eyes on a pair of taller white boots he’d practically swooned. Overall, Regulus would say it was quite a successful trip.
“Inn’t g'd?” Sirius asks around a mouthful of pizza.
Regulus had just taken his first bite of the slice, and his eyes widen, “Oh my god, yeah, why haven’t I eaten this before?!”
“Because Walburga Black is an unparalleled evil that prevented her children from tasting the deliciousness that is pizza,” Sirius answers, “And well, Andromeda had no idea you hadn’t had pizza before, so she never thought to get it for you.”
Regulus snorts, “I swear I’m going to spend the rest of my life undoing what she did.”
He’d meant it as a lighthearted joke, but apparently Sirius took it differently, immediately taking on a more somber expression.
“Sirius—” Regulus starts but is cut off.
“No, Reg, I think we do need to talk about it.”
“We do, I know we do, but we don’t have to do it right now. Today’s been such a good day and I really don’t care to think about our sucky childhood and ultimately ruin my mood.”
Sirius’s eyes glint with humor, “Sucky?”
Regulus rolls his eyes, “Yes, sucky.”
“Alright, we don’t have to talk about it.”
“Thanks.”
They continue to eat in silence, and after a few minutes Regulus finds entertainment in people watching as he eats. There are so many people around them that it’s hard not to just watch as they live they’re lives that have somewhat intersected with Regulus’s here in this mall.
Regulus zeroes in on one young man in particular. He looks to be around Regulus and Sirius’s age, if a bit older. He’s with a girl and they’re chatting animatedly as they stand in line for food. He’s laughing loudly at something she just said, and Regulus watches as he lets his whole body freely feel the laughter. He seems to have no guards up around his behavior, no fears about the way people might perceive him. Regulus can feel a smile tug at his lips as the boy? man? subsides into a smile of his own after the fit of laughter. The boy has light brown skin, dotted with hundreds of freckles, and a messy head of curly brown hair. He’s wearing a cotton t-shirt and khaki shorts. Nothing extraordinary, but Regulus is finds him attractive all the same.
It'd been…interesting. When Sirius had come out ages ago as gay, Regulus barely understood what it meant for his brother let alone for himself. He’d chalked it up to the importance it had for Sirius, not at all considering that maybe, Sirius and he were quite similar in that regard. But that was the beginning of Regulus finally realizing. Because now he knew that a boy could like another boy and be attracted to him the way he’d always thought was only meant for a girl and a boy. So school was extra fun after that. Regulus was slowly starting to identify those familiar feelings he’d always experienced whenever a specific bloke smiled in his direction or walked by looking a certain way.
Regulus might have had an inkling about his own sexuality then, but he’d shoved it down immediately, thinking to himself, it wouldn’t do to be gay under the roof of Walburga Black.
It was a quite a while into living at Andromeda’s that Regulus decided to revisit the conundrum that was his sexuality. Knowing that he was no longer at risk if he did turn out to be anything other than straight, the topic played on a loop in his mind until he’d got up the guts to talk to Meda about it one night at dinner.
“Meda?” Regulus asked tentatively.
“Hmm?” She responded, distracted by the food on her plate.
“You know how Sirius is gay, right?” Regulus checked.
She looked up at that, smirking, “I think the whole world knows that, but yes I am a part of that group,” she added, “Why do you ask?”
“Erm, do you know how he knew?” he asked.
Her brows knitted together, “Don’t you think you should be asking Sirius that question?”
“Well, I just—I don’t know if I can. I don’t want to—I want this to be…” he trailed off, the word he wasn’t saying somehow understood by Meda anyway.
I want this to be mine.
“Well, when I was about fifteen or so, I had a best friend. Her name was Hallie, and we were absolutely inseparable.”
Regulus thought to interrupt, not understanding why the conversation had taken this turn but hoping he could steer it back to what he’d wanted to talk about. But Meda gave him a look that told him she hadn’t strayed away from the topic at all.
She continued, “I never understood why I got so mad when she hung out with other girls. We both had other friends, but I just got so unbelievably pissed when she’d be out with them and not me. Then one day, we were walking along a path in the courtyard at school. It was secluded, and we’d decided to sit down on a bench talking. While we talked, she scooted closer to me, close enough that our thighs touched. I felt my heart literally stop and I was rendered speechless for like two seconds. All because Hallie had sat so close that our thighs touched. That was the first of many tiny little feelings that I knew were not platonic. It took quite a while after that to actually kiss a girl, but it’s safe to say that that was when I knew—or started to know—that I was different.”
Regulus just looked at his cousin, stunned. “You’re gay?”
Meda smiled back, “Not…exactly. I like men and women.”
“You can do that?!” Regulus asked before he could stop himself.
She just laughed, “Regulus, I think you need to do your own research now if you have more questions. Trust me, the internet is your best friend when it comes to this.”
So he did. He started looking up articles and websites surrounding sexuality and the LGBTQ+ community. It felt long overdue, but he was very happy to be learning these things at all. He’d shuddered to think he might have gone his entire life thinking he was straight and not actually be it. After a surprisingly short amount of research, Regulus felt confident enough to say that he liked men.
At that point, Regulus felt comfortable talking with Andromeda about it. Slowly building from small remarks about a cute guy he’d seen at school or in public to full-blown conversations about crushes and dating and all that. Now Regulus by all appearances seemed the least romantic person on the planet, but after one (1) movie night with Andromeda where he’d caved and watched his first rom com, he was forever changed and could now only be considered a hopeless romantic. He really bonded with Meda over this new aspect of his identity, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to talk to Sirius about it. Regulus was almost certain that Sirius knew he was gay, but they just never mentioned it. Sort of like an unspoken rule between them.
And it wasn’t like Sirius didn’t talk about blokes, or well, one bloke specifically. Sirius made Regulus’s ears bleed with how often he’d mention Remus, so there was really just a strict unspoken boundary against talking about Regulus’s sexuality or who Regulus might like. Regulus doesn’t even know if Sirius wants to talk about it. He’s never seemed bothered by the lack of conversation on the topic.
Regulus is jolted out of his reverie when Sirius clears his throat, that insufferable ‘I know what you’re thinking’ look plastered on his face as he’s caught Regulus in the act of staring. He has enough tact not to actually say anything, so Regulus just rolls his eyes and centers his attention back on his food. Silence passing between them once more, Regulus starts to probe his nerves on possibly, finally, talking about his sexuality and dating with his brother. He still has no idea why he hasn’t done so already.
Obviously, when he’d chose to ask Meda instead of Sirius about being gay, he was worried because he didn’t want something so close to his identity to be attached to Sirius in any way.
Regulus has always had a fear that he’d turn out to be a mere clone of his brother. He’d spent his childhood looking up to Sirius, and at one point Regulus was very obviously hoping to act and be just like his brother when he grew up.
Almost as though he was seeking Sirius’s approval of who he was.
There was a helplessness to it, really. Just how easy it was to go along with anything and everything Sirius said and did. He might not have been himself, but at least his brother was smiling back at him all the while.
That was Sirius’s Regulus.
It faded with time as most things do, and Regulus grew to resent how much he’d tried to copy Sirius as a kid. Rebelling his old habits by creating new opposite ones. Where Sirius was loud and commanded attention, Regulus was quiet unless he wanted to be heard. Where Sirius was reckless and a troublemaker, Regulus was calculated and obedient. All in all, he found that his mother began to really like Regulus during that time.
Sirius had not.
That was Mother’s Regulus.
They’d drifted apart and the distance only made Regulus that much more angry. For thinking him and Sirius could’ve had a relationship without Regulus being exactly like him. One night they’d had it out in Sirius’s room, whisper-shouting at each other so as not to let their mother hear.
“Why are you acting like this, Reg?! You never used to follow Mother’s rules!”
“You’re right. I did everything you did, Siri. And you know what? Maybe I got sick of it! It’s better this way anyway. Mother hardly punishes me, and I don’t have to do whatever idiotic scheme you’ve come up with.”
“What do you mean ‘idiotic’? I thought you loved wreaking havoc with me!”
“I loved being with you, the wreaking havoc was just the only way I could.”
“Oh.”
“I’m not like you, Sirius,” he continued more to himself, “As much as I tried to be.”
Sirius just furrowed his brows in confusion, “You were trying to be like me?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I thought that was the only way you’d want to hang out with me. If we did what you wanted to do, and if I was what you wanted me to be. And I was right. You want nothing to do with me now that I’m not trying to be you.”
“That’s not true, Reg. I’ve always wanted you around. But these past few months have felt like you don’t want anything to do with me. I don’t want you to be like me, but I sure as hell don’t want you to be like Mother, either.”
“I don’t know how not to.”
Things got better after that. Even though Regulus wouldn’t help Sirius cause trouble anymore, they still talked and hung out and leaned on each other the way they used to. Regulus still let Walburga influence his behavior, claiming it was for the best anyway.
And it was.
Sirius eventually left Grimmauld, and Regulus had quite the foundation of being Mother’s Regulus to survive living there on his own.
And now, after six months of living with Andromeda, away from both Mother and Sirius (for the most part), Regulus was finally becoming Regulus’s Regulus. But there was still a lingering fear whenever he saw a similarity between him and Sirius. Regulus would worry he was still just copying his brother the same way he used to. It took a while to realize that although he shared characteristics with Sirius, he wasn’t letting his brother influence his identity anymore. Regulus was still Regulus, even if he was gay just like Sirius.
As he thinks about it while eating his pizza, he smiles to himself. He can feel the security of his identity now, locked in place, not influenced by anyone or anything anymore. Waving away his childish fear, Regulus drops his slice of pizza on his plate and locks eyes with his brother, “That bloke was pretty attractive, huh?”
Sirius’s eyes widen, and then with an exasperated sigh, “Fucking finally!”