Work Text:
Evan didn’t understand.
That much was obvious.
Especially since he was laying on Regulus’s bed, looking bored. “Why don’t we go out to Diagon Alley?”
“I told you,” Regulus said.
The fact that his parents allowed him to see Evan spoke as much to Evan’s parents’ dedication to the Cause as it did to Evan’s lineage (and the fact that his father’s cousin Vinda had been one of Grindelwald’s staunchest followers).
Regulus certainly wasn’t about to be allowed to see Barty – even in Diagon Alley. His parents would find out, and that wasn’t worth the risk.
There had been a time when he’d have been able to see his friends – all of his friends; not just Evan – whenever he wanted, provided he didn’t do it at Number Twelve.
Sirius had ruined that.
Just as he’d ruined everything else.
Regulus’s arm itched; he was careful not to touch it. It would itch, Bellatrix had told him, until it was healed. If he interfered, the Dark Lord would know. The magic wouldn’t set.
“I’ll be sure to shoot him a nasty hex the next time I see him, then,” Evan said.
Regulus’s lips quirked in a wry smile. “I appreciate it.”
Evan sighed and waved a hand. “You know I’d do anything for you. Don’t tell Sev, but you’re my best friend.”
“Why am I sure that you’ve told him the same thing? Or Barty?”
“They’d let it go to their heads, and it’s certainly not Avery or Wilkes. I only really like clever people.”
And, well, yes, it was impossible to deny that Severus Snape was clever. And Barty – well, Barty had just written him that he’d got twelve fucking O.W.L.s. (Regulus himself had received a respectable nine).
“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong,” Regulus said.
“No,” Evan agreed. “But it doesn’t mean I’m lying. Don’t know what you’re going to do without me after this year.”
“Shouldn’t you be saying that you don’t know what you’ll be doing without me?”
Evan laughed. “I’ll be out serving the Dark Lord. I’m sure there will be plenty to keep me busy. But don’t worry.” He winked. “I won’t forget about you in my glamourous new life.”
“Glamourous,” Regulus said flatly. His gaze flitted to the collage above his bed.
He wasn’t having doubts. He was proud of joining up. He was doing the right thing to protect wizardkind and pull them out of the shadows.
But glamourous… well, Regulus had his doubts about that much.
It was war.
War was dirty and violent and miserable. Yes, there was glory to be had, but glamour?
Regulus wasn’t so sure.
“You’ll see,” Evan said. He sighed. “I can’t believe your parents are still punishing you for what You-Know-Who did.”
It was a running joke in their circle, using the name the other side used for the Dark Lord in place of Sirius’s name.
Regulus didn’t find it funny in the least.
“You can hardly blame them,” Regulus said.
“I can absolutely blame them. You’ve always been the better one, anyway. You forget: I’ve still got to share classes with him.”
Regulus didn’t forget. He could never forget. He was always aware of what Sirius was doing.
It was actually really fucking annoying; he didn’t know why he couldn’t just move on.
Sirius certainly had. He told everyone who would listen that Potter was his real brother, like Regulus had never existed.
He only did it to get to Regulus.
Regulus was careful never to give him the satisfaction.
“Fine,” Evan said lightly. “I should shut up, because my brother’s an angel.”
“Your brother is a child.” Literally; Felix was only eight.
Sirius had been fine when he was eight. Better than fine.
But it was best not to dwell on that. Sirius was dead to him. He was dead to Sirius. There was no point in thinking about it too much and picking at old wounds.
Regulus didn’t like the look Evan was giving him, like he could see through his façade.
Evan was the only one of his friends who he thought had any chance of understanding things with Sirius. Barty was an only child, and Snape was, too. And for that matter: Barty and Snape were the only ones who had any hope of understanding how his parents were.
Evan’s parents were doting. He’d never once been told no in his life, and it was obvious to anyone who met him.
Regulus’s arm itched. He shook it.
Evan pulled a face. “Mine’s bothering me, too. Rubbish they let you get yours at sixteen. I’m second generation; they should’ve given me the chance!”
“But you’re not a Black.”
“Neither is Barty.”
“Barty’s a good choice for a spy. Your dad’s on our side.”
Evan hummed. “I suppose you’ve got a point. Still… I know I could’ve been useful before this. I’m still at Hogwarts, anyway, so what does it matter if I can legally use magic, or not?”
“There might be raids during term holidays, or on Hogsmeade weekends.”
“Merlin, I hope not. I like Hogsmeade weekends.”
Regulus rolled his eyes. Evan didn’t wipe that easy grin off his face.
“It’ll be fun,” Evan said. “You’ll see.”
Regulus had his doubts.
He wasn’t stupid enough to voice them.
-
Once aboard the Hogwarts Express, his parents no longer had any control over him. Oh, he still had to adhere to certain expectations – word would get back to them if he did something truly heinous, like letting a Mudblood forget their place – but he could see his friends (all of them) and relax. Just a bit.
He shared a compartment with Evan, Barty, and Snape on the way up to Hogwarts. He changed into his robes almost immediately; he wanted to show off his Quidditch Captain badge to everyone.
“Wouldn’t shut up about it all summer,” Evan said to the compartment at large. “We get it: Sluggy likes you more than me.”
“Sluggy would like you more if you showed a bit more ambition.”
“Excuse you! I’m plenty ambitious!”
“Ambitious to serve the Dark Lord doesn’t count in Sluggy’s books,” Barty said.
“Like the three of you are any better.”
“He thinks Regulus wants to be a Quidditch player,” Snape said.
Regulus did think he’d want to be a Quidditch player under other circumstances, but now… the Cause was more important.
“He thinks I want a high-ranking Ministry job,” Barty drawled. “As if I’d ever follow in my father’s footsteps.” He buffed his prefect badge.
“How are you going to manage twelve N.E.W.T. courses and prefect duties?” Evan asked.
“By being as minimally involved in your nonsense as possible.”
“I take offence to that.”
“Good.”
Regulus exchanged a look with Snape. Evan and Barty could be ridiculous, but Regulus was really quite fond of them regardless. Evan was right: Regulus would miss him once he graduated.
He made a note to enjoy this year as much as possible.
He had to savour it.
Next year would mean N.E.W.T.s and missions and Merlin only knew what else. Maybe his parents would even make him get married after the year was over. The thought filled him with a sense of dread. He wasn’t ready for it.
Regulus was a dutiful son (unlike others he could mention and tried not to think about), so he’d do whatever was requested of him when it came down to it. He just wanted to wait a while before it did come down to it. Was that so much to ask?
So he watched as Barty and Evan bickered until they tired of it, and then Snape went on with his new plan to crush Potter (of which Regulus was wholly in favour) and tried not to think that this was their last time heading to Hogwarts for a new school year together.
It mostly worked.
-
They got a carriage together. It was unsettling that Regulus could now see the thestrals that pulled them. They weren’t exactly charming creatures; they reminded him of death.
He tried not to think about death.
He was grateful for Evan’s cheerful stream of chatter as they rode up to the castle. Regulus could never help but be in awe of the grounds, and the mountains that surrounded them. It was such a welcome departure from London and the Rosiers’ estate in Kent that it overwhelmed him.
He didn’t let on, of course. That would have been unbecoming, and even among friends, he was still a Black.
When they pulled up at the castle, the group of them strode into the Great Hall as if they owned the place. Regulus ignored his brother’s eyes on them as he walked to the Slytherin table.
Or at least he tried to; he was aware that Sirius was leaning in to whisper something to Lupin. He didn’t trust what his brother might be saying. It was probably about him.
It didn’t matter. Regulus didn’t need him. He focused on ignoring him; he had no other choice. Sirius had abandoned not only the family and the Cause, but Regulus personally.
Regulus was sure to clap and cheer extra loudly for any new Slytherins, and before he knew it, the feast began.
Although he wanted little more than to stuff his face, he held back. His bites were refined, careful, and measured, like everything else about him. For all his lackadaisical behaviour, Evan ate in much the same manner – betraying his breeding more than anything else. Snape, meanwhile, wolfed down plates like he’d spent all summer half-starved.
Looking at him, Regulus thought it wasn’t altogether unlikely. He took a measured sip of pumpkin juice and cleared his throat before turning to Barty.
“We’ll revise together for History of Magic again this year, right?”
Regulus felt unsure about continuing with nine full courses, but his parents had made it clear that he had no choice in the matter.
He couldn’t fail anything, either.
Barty swallowed his mouthful of food. “Unless Binns has somehow become competent, yeah.”
“I don’t understand why the two of you are so insistent on taking all these useless subjects,” Evan said. “I’ve pared them down to the essentials.”
“Which are?” Barty asked.
“Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts – gotta know what the enemy is up to.”
Snape snorted. “So you’re taking Auror courses.”
“What better way to be able to beat them at their own game?”
Regulus wasn’t convinced. “If you say so.”
-
Ever since his initiation, Regulus relived that night over and over in his dreams. At first, it was a welcome reprieve from his dreams of his family – of Sirius, of his mother.
He’d never tortured anyone before. Never watched someone die. He’d thought that it being a Muggle would make things easier.
It hadn’t.
Regulus couldn’t help but notice that Barty always slept soundly.
-
Regulus’s days were fully booked, but at least he never had to worry about being alone. When he was alone, his thoughts tended to veer a bit too dark.
Barty shared every class with him, and Evan was on the Quidditch team. Snape even joined him in the library more often than not.
Regulus spent most evenings revising until Evan inevitably yelled at him and Barty to get a room.
“It’s not my fault you don’t care about academics,” Barty would counter.
“Why should I?”
“Because knowledge and skills are vital to achieving our goals.”
“I don’t need History of Magic for my goals.”
“Just drop it,” Regulus would say to Barty, rolling his eyes.
“Fine. But just for you, Reg.”
He didn’t mean it like that, of course. While Evan flirted with anything that moved (besides Mudbloods, obviously), Barty seemed wholly disinterested in the whole thing – he was too focused on academics.
But then Regulus probably seemed the same way, too.
There were gay Purebloods. No matter what society dictated, there was no fighting nature. It was just that no one talked about it.
The good ones did their duty and married.
The rest… well…
Regulus knew better.
-
Astronomy had always been one of Regulus’s favourite subjects, but the trip from the dungeons to the Astronomy Tower was always a bit miserable. He supposed it must have evened out a bit with Ravenclaws and Gryffindors going to Potions in the dungeons.
“Chances we stumble on some horny fifth years?” Barty asked. They were early; there was always the chance of finding a couple (or more) who forgot that the Astronomy Tower was used for astronomy.
“Could always be sixth or seventh years,” Regulus allowed.
“Did I ever tell you I caught two fourth years mid-fuck last year? It was a bit fucked; I wasn’t really even thinking about that at their age.”
“Evan was.” Hell, Evan was fucking people in his fourth year.
“Evan’s a special case.”
“Do you now?”
“Do I what?”
“Think about fucking people.”
“Not anywhere I could get caught,” Barty said easily.
“Short of the dormitories, there isn’t much room for privacy in this castle,” Regulus said. Surely Barty knew that.
“Have you?”
“What?” Were they actually discussing this? Then again, Regulus supposed that Evan talked about it like it was nothing.
“You’re gorgeous and popular and rich and from a good family. People must be lining up.” He looked away. “I mean, if they want Evan, I don’t see why they wouldn’t want you.”
“I haven’t,” Regulus admitted. Was that meant to be a shameful thing to admit? But it was Barty; Evan might tease him about it, but Barty… probably wouldn’t.
“Not with Evan all summer?”
Evan was gorgeous, and probably would have been more than willing, but… “No.”
Barty hummed. “I wondered…”
“You know Evan can’t stay with just one person. I’m not saying I want – you know, the whole dedicated thing. I’ll have to marry at some point, and I want that to be as painless as possible.”
“Fair enough,” Barty said. “Evan’s the only one of us, then. Sev definitely hasn’t.”
Regulus wasn’t terribly surprised by that. “He needs to get over her.”
“Absolutely,” Barty agreed. “He’s clever enough to find someone – it’s just this fixation on someone who could never deserve him.”
“And you?”
Barty didn’t meet his gaze. “I try not to let myself get distracted.”
“Is sex a distraction, then?”
“Relationships are a distraction.”
Regulus didn’t have anything to say. They reached the Astronomy Tower.
“After you,” Regulus said, knowing how much Barty loved to ambush people.
The night was cool, but clear and beautiful. They’d arrived before everyone else, and to Barty’s disappointment, there were no other students to write up.
Regulus looked out at the sky; he had an old habit of trying to find his family in the night sky.
He didn’t look for Sirius anymore.
-
On Sunday, Regulus got to sleep in a bit. He lounged around the dormitory in his pyjamas with a book until Evan burst in declaring that he needed reinforcements.
Regulus sighed and got dressed; he met up with Barty and Snape in the common room, and the four of them walked outside together.
As it turned out, Evan needed reinforcements for the very pressing and urgent task of lounging around by the Great Lake, on one of the docks.
Regulus rolled his eyes and conjured a blanket. He laid down in the sun next to his friends.
It was actually nicer than the dormitory, not that he would admit that he’d liked being disturbed.
The term had barely started, and Regulus knew once it had that it wouldn’t leave much time for mornings like this.
He did his best to savour it.
“I think I want to go for a swim,” Evan said.
“You’re mad,” Regulus said, rolling his eyes.
Evan laughed. “Maybe, but I want to knock some things off my Hogwarts bucket list.”
“I’m officially turning the other way,” Barty said, though his nose was buried in his book.
“I appreciate it,” Evan said with a smile, starting to strip down.
“Really?” Snape asked.
“I’m not going to ruin my robes by getting them wet. These are Twilfit and Tattings.”
“Just ignore him,” Regulus said.
“Ouch,” Evan said, holding his hand to his chest. “So cruel, Reg.”
“Not all of us want to be attention whores,” Regulus said.
“Fuck off,” Evan said cheerfully. He stripped down the rest of the way.
After four years on the Quidditch team with him, Evan’s body was no surprise to Regulus. It just was. He could recognise, intellectually, that Evan had a nice body, but… he didn’t know. Maybe it was extensive exposure.
Maybe it was just Evan’s entire personality.
(It was probably the extensive exposure.)
Regulus didn’t stare, but he didn’t avert his gaze, either.
“Show off,” Barty muttered.
“You’re just jealous.”
“If you keep standing there stark naked in broad daylight, someone else will see,” Snape said.
“Fine, fine. Cowards.” Evan was grinning as he jumped off the dock into the lake.
“Idiot,” Barty said, turning back to his book.
-
Saturday mornings were for Quidditch – and this week was tryouts, so that meant Regulus needed to be extra aware. He felt a bit nervous at the prospect of being the one in charge, which was ridiculous; he was a Black.
Blacks didn’t get nervous.
Blacks were uniquely suited to leadership roles.
Blacks didn’t let anyone see that they were affected by anything.
Sometimes, Regulus felt like an utter failure of a Black.
Particularly when Barty rolled his eyes and tossed him a vial of draught of peace in their dormitory before Regulus had even finished getting dressed.
Regulus knew better than to protest; Barty would just tell him to fuck himself.
“Thanks,” he said instead.
“What are friends for?”
For a second, he felt terribly jealous of Barty. Barty was, on the outside, everything his parents wanted. On the inside, he was everything Regulus’s parents wanted.
Regulus feared he might actually lack the killer instinct he’d need when it came down to it. He’d already only been able to perform a simple Cruciatus under pressure from the Dark Lord. (Not that he’d let on about that; he’d kept his mind blank and his expression bored and haughty.)
He shook the thought from his head.
Barty’s mother might have been decent, but his father was absolute shit. Regulus knew that. He knew he shouldn’t envy Barty anything.
As Evan said, they all had their strengths.
It was just that so often, Regulus didn’t measure up.
“You’re in your head again,” Barty said. “Just take the potion.”
Regulus did. The relief was overwhelming.
He hated this. Hated that he ever had use of these sorts of things. Hated that he wasn’t capable of being a proper Black on his own.
“You’ve got this,” Barty said, clapping his shoulder. “Just tell Evan to fuck off when he starts acting like a prick.”
Regulus laughed. “To assert dominance?”
“No; just because he is a prick.”
Well, Regulus could hardly argue with that. He supposed he was meant to defend Evan, but Barty was Evan’s friend, too. There was no denying that Evan could be a prick.
So instead he said, “Fucking good at Quidditch, though.”
“Between the four of us, we’ve got the House Cup cinched this year. We need to get Gryffindor back after last year. I keep trying to catch Gryffindors breaking the rules, too.”
“Just follow my – You-Know-Who around.”
Barty didn’t understand anything about the Sirius situation; how awful Regulus still felt about it, how he couldn’t make sense of it.
He was an only child. He just couldn’t get it, just like Evan (whose parents adored him and doted on him constantly) couldn’t understand why Regulus acted the way he did for his parents.
“They cover their tracks too well,” Barty said. “Easier to scare firsties.”
Regulus rolled his eyes. “If you say so. I really should go out to the pitch.”
“I’ll walk up with you. I’ve got to go to the library, anyway.”
-
Regulus wasn’t as clever as Barty. He wasn’t stupid, but he couldn’t help but feel as if he were constantly failing to live up to expectations.
On the Quidditch pitch, though, he shined.
He barely had to try at all – not that he didn’t try anyway. He wanted to be exceptional.
He knew his skill in Quidditch was part of why he was still in the Slug Club. His family didn’t hurt matters, either.
(Sirius had bragged about his getting disinvited during his second year; Regulus had been humiliated.)
The dinners were typically dull, even though all of his friends were there.
Evan was always on his best behaviour, because even he wasn’t reckless enough to piss Sluggy off. Barty would brag about his most recent accomplishments. Lily Evans would spend half of the evening glowering at Snape, who pretended that he wasn’t looking at her.
Tonight, Sluggy was wearing magnificent violet robes, chatting with Thom Belby and Snape about potions.
Evan swirled his firewhiskey. “Evans is better at potions than Belby by far,” he said. “Loath as I am to give a Mudblood any credit. Sev’s a fucking idiot for making an enemy of her on top of Potter and his little group.”
Regulus raised an eyebrow. “You think?”
“Sluggy likes her more than Sev, and we know Potter won’t stop short of becoming an auror.”
“You antagonise Potter.”
Evan shrugged. “For all my protestations, we both know I’m not particularly ambitious beyond the obvious. Sev is.”
“I suppose.”
“Shame you can’t play professionally.”
His Dark Mark had seen to that.
“My parents never would have allowed it, anyway,” Regulus said.
“Still. You’re the best on the team. After we win,” Evan went on, “once we’re out of hiding. You’ll get it then, I promise. Your parents won’t be able to stop you after all you’ll have done for the Cause.”
It was a nice thought. “Maybe, but I think it’s more likely they’ll push me to marry.”
“You can have both, can’t you? Family duty and happiness?”
He doubted it. “Maybe in the new world order.”
Evan grinned. “That’s the spirit!” He passed Regulus his glass. “Here. I’m going to get another, and Sluggy won’t mind. He likes you.”
He hoped Evan was right – about all of it.
Barty caught his eye and raised an eyebrow. Regulus shrugged.
-
Halloween wasn’t Regulus’s favourite holiday (it was too close to the first Quidditch match of the term for him to truly enjoy it), but he did like how Hogwarts went all out.
Barty had acted weird during their last revision session, and Regulus couldn’t sort out why.
He tried not to dwell on it. It was entirely likely that Barty had just received a letter from his father – or maybe he was jealous that Evan and Snape had been called away on a raid last weekend, leaving Regulus and Barty alone with their butterbeer and chips.
Regulus wasn’t sure.
Whatever it was, pushing Barty rarely worked.
Especially if it were his father.
So he ignored it and tried his best to focus on the feast.
The Halloween feast was always a good time, even if he spent half of it talking over strategy with Evan, until Evan got fed up and said, “If you say another word about the match, I’m going to have no choice but to hex you.”
“Oh, piss off,” Regulus said.
Evan grinned.
Barty shot them both a dark look.
“What?” Evan asked. He seemed genuinely confused.
“Must you flirt in front of everyone?”
“Do you think that’s flirting?”
“Evan,” Regulus said, sensing danger.
Evan turned to Regulus and batted his eyes; Regulus tried and failed not to laugh. Evan grinned. “Playing hard to get, are you?”
“Yeah,” Regulus drawled. “Exactly.”
Evan grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “Shall I woo you more traditionally, then?”
Regulus didn’t even bother trying not to laugh that time. “You’re absolutely fucking ridiculous.” He yanked his hand back.
Evan winked. “But you love me.”
“Merlin only knows why.”
“Eh, I’ll win you over eventually.”
“Just to leave him for the next willing body, right?” Barty asked; his tone was harder than it had any reason to be.
“Reg and I are friends. I’d never abandon a friend. Besides, he knows how I am.”
“An absolute slag,” Regulus said.
“And proud of it! Merlin, the two of you need to have a good shag. Maybe that’ll calm you down, Barty.”
“Fuck off,” Barty snapped. “I’m going back to the dormitory.” He gathered his things and left.
Regulus looked after him.
“I think that went well,” Snape said.
Regulus had no idea what the fuck had just happened.
“Should I go after him?” he asked.
“He’ll calm down,” Evan said. “You know how he gets sometimes.”
Regulus stayed. But he felt a bit guilty about it.
-
The first Hogwarts Quidditch match of the season was always against Gryffindor. The entire team took this as a personal challenge; there was no struggle to raise morale. None of them wanted to lose – least of all to Gryffindor.
It was Regulus’s first year as captain, so he really had to prove himself.
As always, once he was in the air, he felt clear-headed and confident. This was what he was good at; where he truly excelled. And he knew it.
It didn’t even matter that it was starting to rain.
He started searching for the snitch straightaway.
He had faith in his team; he had to focus on his job, which was to catch the snitch.
It happened all at once.
Regulus heard a crack as he closed his fist around the snitch, and instead of cheers, his victory was met with near silence.
Rookwood flew up to him. “It’s Rosier.”
Shit. Evan. Regulus flew down to the pitch grounds.
Evan was already on a stretcher with a nasty blow to his head. He was bleeding, and he had a large bruise on his cheek. Regulus tried to tell himself that it would be fine; Madam Pomfrey knew what she was doing.
Evan would be fine.
But head injuries were bad. They could require a trip to St. Mungo’s.
Evan grabbed his hand. “I’m fine,” he said.
“You’re not fucking fine.”
“Pomfrey will sort me out; you’ll see. Just stay with me?”
“Of course,” Regulus agreed.
Before Regulus knew what he was doing, he found himself in the Hospital Wing, being shooed away by Madam Pomfrey so she could work on Evan’s injuries in peace.
It wasn’t long before Barty and Snape found him. They both looked shaken.
“What happened?” Regulus asked. “One moment, I was catching the snitch, and the next…”
“It was Daniels. Bludger straight to the head,” Snape said.
Merlin’s balls, that was bad. “I thought maybe he’d run into someone…”
“McGonagall has Daniels right now,” Barty said. “I tried to take points, but she told me to fuck off.”
“This had to be intentional,” Snape growled. “They couldn’t stand the idea of us winning.”
“If McGonagall doesn’t do anything, we’ll ask Sluggy,” Barty said. “Sluggy likes us.”
“I think we should focus on Evan,” Regulus said. “A bludger to the head is no joke.”
“We can’t do anything for Evan right now. We can sort out how to get Gryffindor back for this,” Barty said.
“It is what Evan would want,” Snape said.
He had a point. It was definitely better than working himself up over what was likely going to be totally fine. Probably. He hoped.
Barty squeezed his shoulder. “Evan will be fine. Prick’s dealt with way worse than this from Potter and his friends.”
Regulus nodded. “You’re right.”
-
Regulus’s parents would kill him if they knew. Evan knew that.
And yet.
“I thought you’d be pleased,” Evan said.
It was the second day of winter holidays. Honestly, Regulus was surprised his parents had relented to allow him to spend the night at Evan’s house.
When he got there, Barty was sitting in the drawing room.
Regulus wasn’t actually upset himself, but Merlin, his parents hated Barty. Portraits talked, even if all of the witches and wizards kept their mouths shut.
“Maybe he wanted to be alone with you,” Barty said, and his tone wasn’t entirely teasing. There was something hard in it that Regulus didn’t like.
Fine. Regulus could handle this. “I am happy to see you, Barty, but you both know who my parents are.”
“I’m every bit as dedicated to the Cause as you are,” Barty said.
“I know that,” Regulus assured him. “We wouldn’t be friends otherwise.”
“Whatever.” Barty rolled his eyes.
“It really is his parents,” Evan said. “You know that. And with You-Know-Who…”
Regulus knew better than to let them continue on this line of thought. “Can we not? Barty, I really am happy you’re here. I was just surprised.”
“And your parents can never find out.”
“I don’t want them to stop me from seeing the only friend they currently like,” Regulus said. “That’s all. You’re allowed to see whoever you want. Your father isn’t happy about it, but he doesn’t actually stop you.”
“Can we just relax?” Evan asked. “We’re all friends. I invited you both to have a good time.”
Barty sneered. “Your idea of a good time?”
“If you want.” Evan winked.
“Fuck you.”
“Love you, too. Anyway, I should probably tell you both that we’ll be sleeping in my room. It’ll be a proper sleepover.”
Regulus had been in Evan’s room. “Not all on your bed, surely.”
“I’ve only got the one bed,” Evan said, leading them down the corridor, as if there weren’t dozens of rooms in the estate. It wasn’t Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.
“I’m not fucking you,” Barty said.
“I didn’t ask you to,” Evan said. “I don’t expect any fucking to happen tonight. Just – well, I was going to say Quidditch, but it’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?”
“Afraid of a bit of snow?” Regulus asked.
Evan snorted. “Never. Oh! Felix will probably find us and want to tag along; I hope that’s all right.”
Right, because Evan actually was a good older brother. Someone who’d do anything for his brother.
Regulus felt a pang, and tried to force himself to move on. It was in the past. “That’s fine.”
Evan smiled. “He’s really actually quite adorable, if I do say so myself.”
“You’re biassed,” Barty said.
“Maybe,” Evan agreed. “But you’ll see.”
-
They stayed up late talking and laughing, and it was actually really nice. Regulus hadn’t had a night like that in a while.
He didn’t even feel weird about climbing into Evan’s bed with Evan and Barty. At least Evan was wearing pyjamas.
The next morning, though, he woke to find someone spooning him. He turned his head as carefully as possible.
It was Barty, and he was dead asleep.
It was strange, this close, he could see just how long Barty’s eyelashes were, count every freckle on his face. He fought the urge to sigh into the embrace and – well, shit.
Evan was looking at him expectantly. “Took you long enough,” he whispered.
“Fuck off.”
He didn’t know if he’d do anything about it. Barty was one of his best friends; he couldn’t just ruin everything, especially since they shared a dormitory.
He had plenty of time to think about that, though. This morning, he just needed to eat breakfast.
After a few minutes, Regulus extracted himself from Barty’s arms and started to get dressed. Evan shook Barty awake. “If you want breakfast, you’d better get dressed.”
“Fuck you, Rosier,” Barty grumbled.
“Does he always sleep like the dead?” Evan asked Regulus.
“As far as I’m aware.”
“I hate both of you.”
But Barty eventually got out of bed and got dressed. Evan put on a big show about being bored, but he couldn’t quite fight back his grin.
They made their way downstairs together. Evan’s brother and father were already seated at the table.
Regulus knew how this went, at least; he sat down and waited for the house elf to serve him his tea and breakfast.
Mrs. Rosier came into the room and kissed each of her sons on the forehead in turn. “Good morning, boys!”
“Mum,” Evan whined, gesturing to Regulus and Barty.
Barty shot Regulus a look. Regulus thought he was feeling much the same; the affection the Rosiers shared for each other always made him a bit uncomfortable. He didn’t know what to do with the feelings it gave him.
At the end of the day, he had the family that he had, and he was proud of being a Black.
Even if he had a whole swath of new things to worry about.
It’d be fine.
He’d sort it out, especially with his friends by his side.