Chapter Text
It was a twenty-minute walk to the station from 12 Grimmauld Place. Twenty minutes with Sirius and Kreacher and no one else.
It was twenty minutes of freedom. At least, the closest the Black brothers ever got. Kreacher would not report their activities unless they explicitly broke one of Mother's eternal rules.
For twenty minutes, they talked about Quidditch. Sirius had smuggled a few issues of Seeker Weekly back home and now Regulus was an expert on every team in every division. At least, for those four weeks’ worth of games and highlights. He'd read all the interviews several times over and fantasized about buying broom polish and twig trimmer.
In his quietest moments, he'd let his imagination wonder so far that he'd even dreamed about playing as a professional. He didn't know what position. When he and Sirius had played while on holiday they'd never bothered with positions. Usually, it was just two of them, so they flew around, tossing the Quaffle or shooting hoops.
Quidditch wasn’t something their parents had expressly forbidden, but there were rules. There were always rules. Plenty of noble wizarding families had a passing interest in the sport, everyone played. Even the snooty Malfoys. They used Quidditch prove their superiority.
There was a line where it became unbecoming. There always was. That line was love. As it always was. They couldn’t love Quidditch. It was a game. Recreation. A tool.
The brothers loved it regardless.
"You should see the teams play, Reggie. The stands are so tall and they play in all weathers, so sometimes we have to watch through the rain and everyone gets muddy!"
"Muddy?" Regulus grinned because Mother would hate that Sirius had gotten dirty just to watch Quidditch.
Sirius grinned back at him. "This year I'm trying out for the team. I think I'd make a good beater. See what she says to that!"
"A beater? Why?"
"What do you mean? It's the best position."
"It's the worst. They don't even score."
"Oh here comes the chaser rant. You know I get enough of this from James?"
Regulus kept his face from falling. He was used to catching himself now, even around Sirius. He hid his sadness behind a look of careful neutrality. He hoped Sirius didn't notice the change. He was surprised when his hopes were answered.
Sirius launched into another story about James. How great James was. How cool. How amazing. Reggie tuned it out even though he didn’t want to. This was his time with Sirius but somehow James was there too. He didn't understand why James was always there too, ever since Sirius had come home for the winter holidays last year.
Wanted to tell Sirius to forget James, but instead he just nodded enthusiastically. Sirius didn’t notice he was no longer talking to Regulus, but a facsimile of him. He was supposed to notice.
All too soon they reached the station.
Kreacher had disguised them with a concealment charm so they wouldn't draw any attention with their robes and Kreacher with... well, with himself, so they could walk straight inside. Sirius showed him the way to the hidden door between Platforms 9 and 10. “See?” he pressed his hand through the false wall. “Pretty neat, right?”
“Master Sirius,” Kreacher said. “The Mistress has requested–”
“I was showing him the door, Kreacher,” Sirius snapped. “You know Regulus gets nervous. I’m showing him it is okay.”
Kreacher bowed his head but Regulus knew it was only out of deference and not agreement. A report would be given to Mother later. Regulus tried not to think about it. Mother had a habit of shooting the messenger, especially when there was no one else in the house.
Sirius smiled at Regulus. “I’ll go first, alright?”
Regulus nodded and let his brother lead. Sirius was born to lead. He was the Heir after all, even if he was in Gryffindor. After Sirius disappeared, Regulus stepped through the hidden door onto Platform 9¾. He let his eyes widened just a fraction. The massive train slivered down the platform like a giant red snake. Around the beast gathered several witches and wizards, the sort who arrived early. Parents with children, or some students just sitting on their trunks.
Regulus was transfixed by one, who’s legs swung freely below them. The boy stuck a large bubble of blue out of his mouth, then with a pop it left his face and began to float. With a glance upwards, Regulus spotted several blue bobs stuck to the ceiling. A poor house-elf would no doubt be cleaning that up later.
He lifted his chin a little. No decorum, he thought, remembering Mother’s instructions on who he could and could not talk to. Interacting with riff-raff like that would not be allowed. So, of course, that boy was exactly who Sirius bounded over to.
“Peter!” He swung onto the chair beside the boy and sighed dramatically. “How could you do this to me? I thought I was going to be the first here. I was going to prank you all.”
“Fill me in on the plan,” Peter said, still chewing his gum, “and we can still get Jamie and Remus.”
“Oh, good idea.”
Regulus wavered and glanced at Kreacher. The house elf was scowling at Sirius.
“Is there a place we should stand?” Regulus asked.
The house elf beamed at him. “Yes, Master Regulus.”
They walked towards an unoccupied length of the platform most of the way down. Breaking up the old brick was an old Victorian awning of painted cast iron. At each cornice the iron looped around in the crest of the Hogwarts houses.
There was another bench beneath the awning, but Kreacher didn’t stand by it. Instead he positioned himself at the front of the awning, just slightly off centre. Without any words exchanged between them, Regulus took up the place Kreacher had indicated, in the exact centre, with Kreacher half a step behind him. The train wasn’t due to open its doors for another hour, but Regulus knew he’d be expected to stand here the entire time without growing tired or restless. So he set his shoulders and decided to occupy himself by exploring the platform with his eyes, never moving his head.
The bright red exterior reminded Regulus a little of Sirius’ room. Ever since Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor, he had filled the place with bright red drapes and knickknacks. Now, a year later, the space was covered in scarlet. Just like the train.
He watched the other to-be passengers as well. Near him, curled around her trunk, was a girl with dark brown hair pulled back into a spikey ponytail. Several strands of her hair had escaped but were now pinned back haphazardly by series of Quidditch themed clips. That sparked his interest enough to survey her in more detail.
She wore a mix of muggle and wizard attire, which made it hard to determine her house and unfortunately meant she was probably a half-blood. Considering that she hadn’t used a hair-growing spell to fix the disaster on her head, she was definitely a half-blood. A true witch would never present herself that way.
Another ‘no’ then.
A moment later, someone called out , “Emma!” and the girl looked up. “Have you read the exclusive on Lisa?”
Emma glared down the platform at a boy about her age. He was tall, about fourteen, with a face that Regulus thought he might recognise – though his name wasn’t forthcoming. He held out a page of Seeker Weekly. A small red-haired witch was flying a broom on the cover, looking very determined.
“She replaced the Puddlemere United Seeker, right after they won the Cup. No reserves for her. I told you she was the real deal.”
“I look forward to watching Puddlemere crash and burn with her on the team,” Emma said dryly.
“Oh, come on, Vanity. Can you just be happy for a Hogwarts alumni?”
“The entire Puddlemere team are alumni. Why should I care if a Gryffindor pushes her way in?”
Regulus felt his shoulders drop a little but righted them quickly. The tall boy was in Gryffindor. Regulus had hoped that with such a familiar face he’d be in Slytherin, possibly someone acceptable to talk to – and about Quidditch too. Now that Emma had mentioned his house, Regulus noticed a Gryffindor robe thrown over a nearby trunk, obviously belonging to the teen.
Regulus looked the other way and found himself standing a few paces away from a first year girl. Her large glasses slipped down her nose as she bounced nervously. A man who could only be her father gently smoothed down her curls. Regulus was momentarily stunned by the motion, he’d only ever seen such gentleness among muggles, but this man was not dressed like a muggle.
He tried to look away – staring was unbecoming of his station – but he couldn’t.
Why can’t I have that? his weaker self whined. I want a father like that.
Regulus took a deep breath as he pushed away the thought, sealing it behind a wall in his mind. Occlumency was something Regulus had been mastering since his cousin, Andromeda, had showed him the basics. Grandfather Pollux loved delving into the minds of his grandchildren and Regulus had needed protection. These days he mostly used it for other reasons. He closed his mind to those desperate thoughts. They were useless. No one could replace their parents and, besides, Regulus liked his family. They weren’t so bad most of the time.
“Reggie,” Sirius said, jostling Regulus away from his thoughts. He wrapped an arm around Regulus’ shoulder and turned him around.
Three boys faced Regulus. Despite never having met any of them Regulus knew their names. Peter Pettigrew, the gross boy from before, was scratching his head and looking unsure why he was there at all. Next to him, smiled a boy with wild black hair and large, blocky glasses. James Potter was exactly as Sirius had described. A ray of sunshine. Regulus hated him. Finally, there was Remus Lupin, a shy boy drowning in second-hand robes. He was certainly not the kind of friend Mother had envisioned for her eldest son.
These were the friends who had dyed Sirius’ world red. Regulus couldn’t keep his envy from turning his expression into a sneer as Sirius launched into an introduction. “Boys, this is my baby brother Reggie–”
“Regulus,” he corrected.
“–Reggie is totally brilliant, so he’s definitely gonna end up in Ravenclaw.”
Regulus frowned into his sneer. His brother’s accent had changed since they’d left Grimmauld Place. As had his choice of words. He spoke like a stranger.
James held out his hand. “Good to meet you, mate.”
Mate? He screamed childishly inside his head. Regulus didn’t reach out to take James’ hand. He should have. He couldn’t.
Of all Sirius’ new friends, James was probably the most respectable. He was Great-Aunt Dorea’s nephew, a pureblood. Mother might have even approved. It wasn’t that Gryffindors weren’t allowed to be befriended, only that you weren’t supposed to become one. Regulus should have been polite at the very least. He was raised better than this.
Still he recoiled at the idea. Brother-snatcher.
Before Sirius had gone to Hogwarts, they had shared everything, been everything. Sirius was more than his brother. He was Regulus’ best friend, his confidant, his knight. He was everything Regulus should be and everything he shouldn’t. Then he was gone. By the time he had come back for the winter, he had found a new best friend. A new everything.
Regulus had let himself hope that it would all go back to normal now he was coming to Hogwarts too. Sirius would forget James – Sirius would love him again. That hope died when Sirius looked at him. His confused frown hid a torrent of pain beneath. Regulus knew Sirius saw that pain reflected back in his eyes, hidden beneath his mask, but Sirius didn’t react to it.
Regulus shoved away his feelings of hatred behind the wall and took James’ hand. He hating seeing his brother hurting and know he was the cause.
He opened his mouth to extend a greeting.
It didn’t come.
James was wearing a Quidditch gloves.
Regulus glanced down. The Hogwarts crest decorated the fringe. He’s on the team, Regulus realised. And with that, James stole another thing from him, like a burglar he took away Regulus’ plans to play with his brother again. It had been the only thing Regulus could think of that his brother and him could still enjoy together. But he knew, especially now, that Sirius would not choose him over James. Oh-so-amazing James was a proper Quidditch player, not just a dabbler like Regulus. If Sirius wanted to fly. He would fly with James.
Regulus looked up at James’ hazel eyes. Beneath his face of neutrality, his envy consumed him. He had truly never known jealousy until he met James Potter. He squeezed the other wizard’s hand hard enough to hurt, then pulled away without a word.
Silence filled the air around them. Peter pulled out another sweet and began to chew it. James was trying to replace the smile that fallen off his face, mostly unsuccessfully. Sirius was glaring at Regulus. Why did you do that? his eyes accused.
Regulus couldn’t even begin to explain his feelings, he wasn’t even sure he could name half of them, so instead he just raised an eyebrow petulantly. What do you mean?
Before any more silence could come between them, Remus piped up with, “Should we get on? The doors are open.”
***
Regulus watched the countryside roll by in quiet admiration. He curled up against the window, feet on the seat. He knew he should put his feet back on the floor. It was disrespectful to sit like this, but none of the others seemed to notice nor care. Besides, he justified to himself, trains were a muggle way to travel, surely the rules of decorum didn’t apply so forcefully within one. He wasn’t sure if he believed his reasons but he didn’t put his feet back on the floor.
The train felt like freedom. He had never seen the world like this, flipping passed him for hours. When his family travelled, they used portkeys and floo powder; he never saw the landscape like this. The outside world him transfixed him.
The passing farms or wide vales were a worthy distraction from the rowdy group Sirius called friends. Another one had shown up, a girl called Marlene. She was playing exploding snap with Peter while James and Sirius loudly planned a prank of some sort. The entire thing sounded like a great way to get detention on the first day but he didn’t say anything since, from what Regulus could tell, that was the idea. They had a record to beat.
Remus Lupin shuffled across to the seat across from Regulus and met his gaze. Thin white scars criss-crossed his face and neck. There was a pink one too, it looked recent. Remus didn’t offer him a big smile like James had, but Regulus could sense an aura of good-will coming from him regardless. “They’re a little underwhelming, aren’t they?”
Regulus blinked a couple times before he sorted through the words. It bothered him that his discomfort had been so obvious. Not two hours away from home and he was already slipping. Still, he didn’t see the point in arguing against the truth so he nodded.
“They grow on you… eventually. I was shy too when I first came here.” He dug out something from his pocket and revealed a bar of chocolate. The foil casing was rolled over the outside in a way that indicated the bar had already been opened before. Remus broke off a section and offered it to Regulus. “Chocolate?”
Regulus, still a little confused that someone was talking to him again, took the piece. Something in his expression must have asked for an explanation because Remus said, “My mother always gives me a little bit of chocolate to make me feel better. It’s a miracle how often it works.”
“Your muggle mother?” Regulus asked quietly, curious rather than malicious. He’d never spoken with a half-blood. At least, not the type with a muggle parent. His family employed half-blood servants on occasion, for large parties and the like, and Regulus had given them orders when necessary. Usually only the lines of ‘play that song again’, ‘fetch me more juice’, or ‘clean my shoes’. This conversation was entirely different. A glimpse into a world Regulus had never seen.
Remus stiffened. “Does it matter if she’s a muggle?”
Regulus wanted to look away but years of etiquette training forced him to keep his head straight. His feet touched the floor again. After a long pause, he said, “I don’t know. Does it?”
“It shouldn’t.” Remus stood and crossed over to the other side of the compartment. Sirius looked over at Regulus, giving him that same distressed look as earlier. Again, Regulus had no idea what to say or do. He didn’t mean to offend Remus, though in hindsight it was obvious his comment would. Sirius wouldn’t understand that. People came easily to Sirius.
Regulus looked down at the chocolate in his hand and decided, since he had no where to put it, that he might as well eat some. Nibbling on the sweet, his gaze returned to the window. The world faded away as he was once more lost in the landscape.