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The panic slowly crawled its way up his spine as his eyes glossed over and everything else became distant. Slowly, Regulus sunk to the ground; hands reaching up to tug at his hair. He tugged hard and the pain helped. It made him feel in control of the moment; it meant that he could still feel something as everything else became numb.
He couldn't hear anything other than his own panicked breathing and he couldn't see anything through his tear glazed eyes so the only true, constant thing was the pain. As he dug his nails deeper into his skull, he felt his breathing speed up even more, becoming strained gasps. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. His hands moved from his hair to around his neck in blind panic. 'I can't breathe, I can't breathe. Help. Please someone help me' were his thoughts but nobody came to help.
Eventually, he managed to slow his breathing with a familiar rhythm of in, hold for 5, out, hold for 5. He reached a calmer pace and his hands moved away from his neck, up to rub furiously at his tear-stained cheeks and blood-shot eyes. He went through the steps of stumbling to his feet as his legs shook, leaning heavily on the sink before splashing his face with cold water and attempting to flatten down his hair. He knows this routine by heart at this point; he's been through these paces enough times.
"Regulus," comes the commanding voice of his mother from the other side of the door. Regulus took a deep breath, looking at himself in the mirror quickly and straightening his collar slightly before opening the door.
"Yes Mother? I apologise, I needed to use the restroom rather urgently."
"Get back downstairs and play some music to entertain our guests."
"Yes Mother." He began to walk towards the staircase but stopped when he heard her voice call him again.
"And Regulus,"
"Yes Mother?"
"You look pathetic, if you're going to be a baby and cry, then at least hide it well. You are once again disappointing our family name."
"Yes Mother. I'm sorry, Mother" was all Regulus could manage as he felt his heart fracture into tiny, sharp shards. He walked back down the stairs and into the drawing room where he greeted his cousins once more before collecting some sheet music and beginning to play.
~~~~~~~~~
Regulus had always loved music. He and Sirius were forced to take piano lessons from a young age and although Sirius despised it, Regulus actually quite enjoyed the feeling of letting the melody wash over him.
Later, when they were around 8 and 9, they were on a ‘family’ trip around London, probably for some ministry publicity scheme but Regulus noticed an instrument in one of the shop windows. A cello. From that moment, he decided that he must learn how to play it. His parents allowed him to learn it as long as he only played the pieces they chose and played well at every family event. Regulus spent hours every day, perfecting the art of playing the cello and the sound it made was better than anything he could’ve ever imagined.
Music was always something he loved- despite his parents having forced it upon him and his brother- and now, with this new instrument, he could express his love for music in even more wondrous ways. Through tears, pain, two hour long lessons each day and much practice, he eventually was deemed ‘good enough’ by his parents to play at family gatherings or any posh meetings/ dinners.
Sirius would play piano and Regulus would play cello. They made a wonderful pair, no matter how much Sirius despised it. In the face of the cruel, critical remarks from his parents and the forced practice, resulting in curses being thrown at him at any small mistake, Regulus still loved music. It was one of his many escape forms -probably the most healthy one- and through music he could express emotions he struggled to explain out loud.
Sadness was shown through slow, lament-like pieces, minor keys and gentle pizzicato or long passionate bow strokes whilst anger was shown through furious, quick strokes of the bow and loud chords which crashed upon ears of a listener like waves in a storm upon sharp rocks. It was the way he could show how he felt even if he himself didn’t know how he felt and nothing, not even his parents could ruin that.
~~~~~~~~~
So as Regulus sits down upon his stool, and brings his bow to the strings, a silent tear rolls down his cheek. Taking a deep breath, he begins the piece, losing himself to the music and focusing on the notes alone. He knew his cousins and aunts were watching him play- along with his parents and other work colleagues but that didn't matter. He was in a different world, away from them and all the pain they caused him.
In this new world, everything was peaceful and he could be whoever he wanted to be; he could be with whoever he wanted. James. No. He can’t think about him right now. That boy is the one thing he wants to keep separate from this house and the suffering within it. To redirect his thoughts away from his one source of joy, he remembered the night just a few days ago and a wave of anger and pain rushed over him.
He knew that Sirius deserved to leave and needed to get away before it was too late but he never considered how much it would hurt. The stab of the knife lodged between his ribs plagued him as his brother begged him to leave too but Regulus knew that if he left as well then their parents would undoubtedly come after them. With just Sirius gone, they didn’t care as much because they still have him; the spare. Therefore he had to stay in order to protect Sirius yet he still feels regret and anger nagging at him.
He integrated those emotions into his playing as they were no use to him otherwise; they were simply distant feelings that should play no role in his day to day life. They couldn’t play any role in his life because if they do then that meant he cared about his brother leaving and in that house, caring about something was a weakness. It was something that could be exploited and used against him so both James and Sirius were locked away, behind the doors in his mind that hid everything he couldn’t show or feel in that place that should have been a home.
The music was all that kept him from falling apart into a million tiny shards of glass like a broken mirror. The changes in dynamics and tempos focused him on what was important in that moment. All he needed to do was survive each day, be the perfect son and ensure that he kept the people who actually mattered to him safe.