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There was something incredibly natural about the progression of Regulus’s and Evan’s relationship. Regulus was all ice and aristocracy, whereas Evan was all fire and anger, passion, even. They came together like a warring storm– Evan was the storm, and Regulus was the calm afterwards.
Where Severus came in, nobody really knows. He was like their rabid puppy, but they loved him all the same. Evan and Regulus fought their way through first, second, and third year. Only in fourth year did they begin to see each other in a different light, a more romantic light. Insulting turned to snogging, and snogging turned to a betrothal, one approved by both Regulus’s parents and Evan’s.
Severus was exactly one year younger than them, and thus, one year below them. Nobody thought much of him– He was a poor half-blood, and worse, he was friends with some Gryffindor mud blood. A double sin. Except–
Regulus and Evan had just tumbled out of a closet, together, with messed up hair and swollen lips. Luckily, no one seemed to notice, as the hall in front of them was filled with their peers, who were all standing in a wide circle.
Regulus and Evan fought their way to the middle, Regulus following behind Evan as he elbowed his way through. In the middle was Severus Snape, half-blood Slytherin, and James Potter, pureblood Gryffindor.
“You think you’re some big shot, but you’re not. You might be rich, but you’re as interesting as a plank of wood, and you can’t do magic for shite.” Severus hisses his insults, wild eyes trained on his attackers. Nobody was stepping in.
“Real funny, Snivy. At least I’m handsome, and clean.” Severus Sneers, grimacing slightly. Regulus knows Severus was always greasy and filthy when he came back to Hogwarts each year, but he fixed that rather quickly, and was pristine the rest of the year.
Suddenly Potter sends a stunner at Seveurs, one which he promptly dodges. Severus growls low in his throat. “You know what? I’m done with this magic bull shite. You’re gonna get a taste of muggle fighting.” Potter stills in confusion, eyes locking with Severus’s.
A feral look suddenly passes over Severus’s face, and in the next moment he’s lunging at Potter, who drops his wand in surprise. Potter screams, a high-pitched sound, as he goes down. There’s grunting and yelping, and then Severus is on top of Potter, his fists swinging down, over and over again, as he pelts Potter.
“Fuck,” Panting, “You!”
Potter’s shrieking and batting at Severus, but the half-feral half-blood continues beating him, ignoring the blood beading down his arms from Potter’s nails.
Regulus and Evan watch, entranced. His black hair, even inkier than Regulus’s own, hangs in heavy troves. His eyes glint with violence. His fists are cracked and bloody.
Later, long after the fight’s been broken up, Evan and Regulus don’t talk about it. They decidedly don’t talk about it– and when they begin following after and privately courting Severus, they still don’t talk about it.
Now Severus is a part of their little not-thing, except it is a thing, because when Evan finally gives Regulus an engagement ring (despite them being betrothed for two years already– since fifth year) he gives Severus one too.
And when Severus admits he wants to be a potions master, Regulus gets him in contact with a master who needs an apprentice. And when Regulus moves away from Grimmauld, and his oppressive mother, he takes Evan and Severus with him.
They’re not perfect, but they love one another, and that’s all they care about.
And in the end, when Voldemort comes knocking at their door, seeking three more Death Eaters, they flee to France together.