Chapter Text
All Regulus wanted was for his college move-in day to go smoothly. Was that really such an unreasonable request?
Apparently, yes. Honestly, he shouldn’t have been so shocked at his shitty luck.
The morning started off well enough, waking up to Siruis’s alarm blasting from the room across the hall of their shared flat, and his screaming, “Wake up, Reggie! It’s move-in day!” in a sing-song voice, way too peppy for someone who’d just woken up.
Regulus groaned just as loudly in response, but in reality his heart was beating through his chest with excitement.
He was actually starting college.
It wasn’t just a dream.
Rolling out from his bed which was already stripped of its sheets to save time (“ I swear, I’m brothers with a serial killer,” Sirius shuddered in response upon seeing this), Regulus rubbed his eyes and grabbed his pillow to shove in one of the bags that were littering his space.
He paused to quickly make a visual sweep of the now bare and packed-up room, triple checking again that nothing was left behind, and once satisfied, stepped out into the hall to ask Sirius what he wanted for breakfast.
This living arrangement for Regulus and Sirius was fairly new, and sometimes got… complicated , but for them, it worked.
Sirius had long left the family household, disowned at sixteen, and had been living with his best-friend until shortly after his eighteenth birthday.
Sirius had inherited a truly ridiculous amount of money from their Uncle Alphard when he passed away, but was only able to touch any of it when he became a legal adult.
Using this, he invested in an education in child developmental education, as well as his own apartment in the surrounding town to the university to stay in during holidays.
That summer after Sirius’s freshman year of college and Regulus’s senior year of highschool, the apartment turned out to be useful for more than just a place to stay during vacations.
That was the summer that Regulus, too, had been disowned by their parents, and left to fend for himself with no job, no inheritance as Sirius had, and no place to stay.
Really, it was Regulus’s fault in the first place. He should have known better than to go to a stranger for help, especially one that worked in the school his parents paid generous amounts of money for him to attend, fueling his paychecks.
Even as prestigious as the highschool he’d attended was, the school therapist was an under-qualified, slimy piece of trash who obviously only stayed in his career for the money.
Regulus had opened up to him one day after finally working up the courage to admit, yes, he did have a problem, and yes, he did need mental help, and no, that wasn’t a bad thing.
The conversation had went like this:
Regulus entered the door in the back of the school’s counseling office that the kind secretary at the desk in front directed him to.
The name plate above him read exactly what she’d told him it would, Mr. Slughorn, School Therapist and Counselor.
He walked in through the open door, knocking on it lightly to grab the older gentleman’s attention from the notes he was scribbling down on his large, dark wooden desk.
The whole room was rather dark, actually, only two small, dim lamps illuminating the space in the corners of the room.
One big and cushy looking chair sat opposite of Mr. Slughorn’s at the desk, but there was also a small, two-seater couch along the side of one of the walls.
Regulus supposed the set-up was supposed to be aesthetically pleasing and minimize stimulation for a relaxing effect, but really it just made him want to turn on another light- or at least have the walls painted a lighter color than the deep, outdated emerald green that they currently were.
When the man still didn’t look up from his notes, Regulus let out a little cough, which did the trick.
Slughorn looked up and blinked, seeminging a little shocked that a student was actually using his services, and cleared his throat.
“Ahem- Hello young man, er, come in, come in,” he shuffled around the papers on his desk into a haphazard pile and linking his hands in the cleared space, “Take a seat, take a seat,” he waved.
The therapist got up to close the door behind Regulus as he awkwardly shuffled his way into the office and stiffly took a seat on the cold leather of the couch.
“Now, Mr.- er-”
“Black. Regulus Black.”
“Yes of course, Mr. Black, what brings you in today,” Slughorn started, now returning to his seat behind the desk.
“I-,” Regulus hesitated for a moment.
“You can’t tell anyone what I say to you, right? Like, legally?”
“Well, yes, you certainly are entitled to my full confidentiality, excluding a select few things. If you are planning to bring harm to yourself or others, or if there is some sort of abuse happening that you disclose to me, then I may have to alert the appropriate people. Other than that, your secrets are safe with me,” the therapist plastered on an obviously fake smile.
So of course, Regulus would just have to leave out a few details about his parents, and maybe be careful with his words, but other than that, no one was going to find out anything, right? Mr. Slughorn had said so himself.
Regulus took a deep breath in, then out.
“Ok. Thank you. I-,” Regulus looked down in his lap, “I think I need help. I think that I may have… depression.”
“And what makes you think this, Mr. Black?” Slughorn asked without looking up from the fresh sheet of paper he’d already started scrawling notes on- which definitely didn’t help Regulus relax.
He was starting to question why people even came to therapy if it was always like this, he honestly felt more stressed than before. But still, he went on.
“Sometimes… I just feel like nothing at all. Or-or like too much, all at once. Mostly just…heavy. And- well sometimes I think about dying,” he confessed, which finally made the old man look up with his eyebrows raised.
Regulus rushed to correct his poor wording.
“Oh, no, I’m not suicidal or anything, I would never try to end my own life, I just…” none of what Regulus was saying was a lie, but he didn’t think the therapist was yet convinced, “well it’s not normal to think about death so much, is it? To maybe think it would be peaceful, or just feel like nothing at all- you know, oblivion .”
“I see…” he returned to writing his notes.
“And you find this oblivion appealing?
Regulus once again hesitated, cursing himself for already screwing up his words.
“I just… I can’t imagine that it would be worse than living. It is nothing, afterall.”
And yeah, that definitely wasn’t helping his case either, but he didn’t know how to word his feelings any other way. They were beyond being described by words, anyway, but that didn’t make his inability to articulate them any less frustrating.
“Hmmm…” was Mr. Slughorn’s reply.
“Is there something- a stressor, perhaps- in your life that’s causing these emotions around death? To the point that you think it’s a better option than living with these circumstances?” Slughorn pried further, which Regulus supposed was his job.
“Not really? Just, you know. School, grades. They can be stressful, is all,” he lied.
When Slughorn once again didn’t look convinced, Regulus sighed and continued.
“I suppose my brother and parents had some issues a couple of years ago, but he doesn’t live with us anymore so that’s not it,” again, another lie. It definitely still did affect Regulus, even if Sirius wasn’t in the house anymore.
“It’s just thoughts, I think. Like that voice in the back of my head is just tired of trying to be happy,” he concluded.
“Ah,” another short, cryptic response, followed by more writing.
Really, what did he need to write this all down for, Regulus thought.
“Yes, from what I’m hearing, I believe depression would not be a stretch to consider. But not to fret, there is plenty to help with that. Perhaps you could visit me more regularly and we can work through these… thoughts of yours. Maybe we could dig a little more into why you’re feeling the way you do, and what will help. Quite honestly, I am still concerned about these thoughts of death, even if they aren’t driven by suicidality. Existential thoughts can be a slippery slope into that if you aren’t careful,” he warned.
“Of course, and yes, thank you. I think I would like to meet more often,” Regulus forced himself to say. He really didn’t want to meet more often, but he had to give therapy a fair shot if he wanted to get better.
“Wonderful,” Sluhorn said through his faux smile once again, “I’m so glad that you took the time to reach out to me, Reginald-”
“Regulus,” he corrected.
“Oh, yes, my apologies, Regulus. I do think that we should cut this first session a bit short, though. This was a great start, but I find that it’s more helpful if the patient has more time to process their feelings between appointments at first. I know that the summer holiday is approaching, and we don’t have much time left together, but it truly is for the best. Would next week at this same time be convenient for you?”
He blinked.
Regulus had only been in the office for less than ten minutes at this point, did Mr. Slughorn really hate his profession so much that ten minutes of actually working was too much for him?
Needing “more time to process” just seemed like a cheap excuse to get Regulus out of his office faster.
“Er- yes, that should work. Thank you for your time,” Regulus nodded to the therapist and stood from the couch, walking out the door feeling annoyed and confused.
He really didn’t think that’s how therapy was supposed to work.
When he’d arrived back home later that day, Regulus was even further annoyed by this man.
Even though he had quite literally said that he would never take his own life, Slughorn went against the confidentiality that Regulus was promised and sent a wildly misinterpretive email home to his parents.
Essentially, he’d twisted Regulus's words, and described him as concerningly unstable and teetering on the edge of suicide, as well as claiming that he heard voices that were telling him to give up.
His parents obviously didn’t react well to this news.
As soon as Regulus stepped through the front door, he was being roughly dragged into a room by his mother and lectured on how their one and only remaining son could not be a “suicidal head-case” . How it would ruin their family’s reputation.
She punctuated every point she made with a blow to his arms and shoulders or a slap to his face, telling him that he was a disgrace for turning out the way he did, and that she’d rather have no sons than two disappointments.
When she wore herself out of her wrath and finally stopped physically and verbally berating Regulus, she told him to be gone from the house by nightfall and to never return or contact them again.
Just like that.
When he finally had the strength to peel himself off the ground, Regulus staggered up to his room to shove some essentials into his school bag that he had yet to take off. He didn’t even bother trying to clean his now busted lip.
He then snuck into his parents room to scrounge for any money hanging loose. He found about fifty dollars between both their nightstands, and stuffed that away in his bag, too.
It’s not like his parents would miss it, anyways. Fifty dollars was nothing to them.
Then, noticing out the window that a tinge of pink was creeping its way into the sky, Regulus walked to the front door, and wished his old life goodbye.
Just like that.
For a while, he just walked and walked, not really trying to make it anywhere.
Regulus let silent tears fall down his face, and bitterly laughed at his sense of deja vu.
Just two years ago, it had been Sirius in this exact position.
Sirius.
Regulus fumbled for his phone in his pocket and quickly dialed in the number he hadn't used in so long, but always kept memorized after his parents forced him to delete his brother’s contact.
For a second his thumb just hovered over the call button, but then quickly tapped it before he could change his mind.
Two rings later, Sirius picked up, sounding panicked and unsure.
“Reg…? Is that you?”
“Yeah, Sirius, it’s me,” Regulus’s voice broke halfway through the sentence.
And so he explained to Sirius everything that had happened that day, and bashfully asked for help. It’s not like he knew anyone else who would help him anyways, but Regulus still felt badly about the request considering the brothers hadn’t spoken in two years.
But, Sirius being Sirius, agreed immediately, offering Regulus to come live in his apartment with him and said he was already on his way to pick him up.
Regulus cried in relief when Sirius’s uber driver pulled up to the nearby gas station they agreed to meet at, and they reunited with long, teary hugs and comforting reassurances that Regulus would be ok now, he was safe now.
And a few moths later, Regulus was back on his feet.
He’d applied for a job at the pharmacy-slash-general-store in the town where Sirius lived, and they were just a mile and a half from the university.
When Regulus expressed wishing to attend but not yet having the money, Sirius stepped in to help, much to Regulus’s initial protest. He helped pay for both his own and Regulus’s tuitions while Regulus put in most of his earnings from his job as well.
Financial aid and scholarships from the university also ended up reducing costs quite a bit, considering he and his brother lived on their own now with no parental support, and Regulus had astounding marks in his highschool classes.
So, now, Sirius and Regulus would be attending college together.
And as difficult as the journey to get there was, Regulus couldn’t have been happier.
*******
Loading the last of their belongings into the trunk and backseats, Sirius raised his hand to Regulus for a (ignored attempt at a) high five.
“Ugh, you’re such a buzzkill, Reggie,” the elder brother rolled his eyes with a smile.
“Oh no, what a terrible thing to be. I can’t believe I’ve never noticed,” Regulus replied with dry sarcasm, to which Sirius snorted.
The short drive to campus was filled with more playful bickering, fighting over what music to play, and Sirius telling excited stories of his time at Hogwarts University, happy that Regulus would get to make his own memories there too.
As much as he rolled his eyes and acted dismissive, Regulus was elated, too, aside from the nerves.
The last time he’d been in a school, it hadn’t gone great for him, but those thoughts were cast to the side as they approached the school.
Of course, he’d seen pictures, but they didn’t compare.
In the dead middle of Vermont, the Hogwarts campus was all repurposed and refurbished Victorian era architecture; tall and elaborately designed mansions stood as the different academic buildings, with four slightly smaller ones as the dorm houses.
Even the admissions building was beautiful, and Regulus had to remind himself to close his mouth before heading in.
Sirius nudged him, “I know, right?”
Regulus just nodded.
“Hello, friends!” a girl, a bit older than them with wavy brown hair, greeted the two as they walked in.
“Oh, Sirius! Welcome back.” she smiled warmly.
“Alice! You’re still here? I thought you graduated!” Sirius ran forward to see his friend.
“Got a job with admissions! Just couldn’t say goodbye to this place yet,” she explained.
“How’s Frank?” Sirius asked.
“He’s well, I’ll tell him that you say hello! He’s working as an electrician nearby.”
“Wow, that’s great!” Sirius smiled before remembering the reason they were there in the first place.
“Oh yeah! This is my brother Regulus that I told you about!”
Alice turned her gaze over to him.
“Yes, I could tell,” she laughed, looking between the two.
“Nice to meet you finally, Regulus.”
“You as well,” he responded politely.
“Alright, well I suppose I should get you two settled into your rooms…” she trailed off, skimming the pages of names in front of her and grabbing their keys.
“Sirius, you’re once again in Gryffindor building, room 315. And Regulus, you’re in the same building, room 324. I’m sure your brother will help you find your way.”
“Of course I will,” Sirius trapped Regulus in a headlock and ruffled his hair.
“Urrgh, really?” He pushed his brother off and patted his curls back down.
Alice giggled at their display, and waved them off.
“I made a bet with James that I’d be in our room first, I hope I won,” Sirius rambled along the way, while Regulus drove the car up to their building so they could lug their bags in easier.
He and his best-friend, James, were dorm-mates in their previous year, as well as James being the one to take Sirius in when their parents had thrown him out. And by the sound of Sirius’s anecdotes, they were practically codependent.
“Mmm, I hope you lost,” Regulus remarked, then added thoughtfully, “I hope Remus is as nice as he was over text. ‘Couldn’t stand it if he was actually just a sloppy creep.”
Remus was Regulus’s roommate-to-be, and they’d met over a social media app used to connect with people looking to go to the same schools. He was a year older than Regulus- Sirius’s age- but had taken a gap year before starting college, so they were the same graduating class.
So far, as Regulus had stated, Remus was very kind.
The two had bonded over various books they had read, mostly classics or period pieces, as well as shared style preferences- both of them agreed that their dorm room would be tastefully decorated in a comforting, vintage naturalist aesthetic, and that any other type of decoration was a crime.
“Yeah, that would suck, huh. It sounded like you two got on well enough, though. I don’t think they’ll be any issue.”
“‘Hope not.”
The two exited the car and grabbed the first load of duffle bags and boxes to bring up. It would take two or three trips at least to get everything up to their respective dorm rooms, but they grabbed as much as they could anyways.
“Good thing we’re on the same level. Now we only have one stop on the elevator,” Sirius pointed out as they crammed into the small space and hit the button labeled with a three .
Because of the numbers they were assigned, Sirius reached his room first.
“Yes! I knew we’d beat James,” he beamed at the empty room and dropped his stuff heavily on the floor.
“I’m going to go see if Remus is here yet, enjoy your bragging rights,” Regulus replied with a little wave, or as much of a wave as he could manage with his hands so full, and started down the hall.
“Alright! I’m gonna go grab more of my things,” Sirius called back.
When he reached room 324, Regulus struggled a bit with the key, but then was able to open the door.
“Sirius! I told you I’d be here first-” a boy, who was definitely not Remus, started but cut himself off when he turned around and saw Regulus instead.
He was half-kneeling on his bed to put up a bright, colorful poster, and had bags and boxes chaotically strewn everywhere. He had glasses that were at the moment falling crookedly over his eyes, and his hair stood up in about five different directions.
“Oh. You’re not Sirius,” the boy stated, rather redundantly.
Regulus shook his head in bewilderment, and took a breath.
“No, I’m not. James, I’m assuming?”
James blinked at him in surprise.
“How do you know my name? You’re not, like, a stalker, are you? Or have we met? I’m pretty sure we haven’t met.”
Regulus stepped in further and dropped his things lazily on the floor with a thump .
“Regulus Black, nice to meet you,” he extended a hand to James, “and I think you’ve got the wrong room.”
James took his hand and smiled.
“Oh! You’re Sirius’s brother, yeah I see it now. Lovely to meet you!” he said with the most uncomfortably long and enthusiastic hand-shake that Regulus had ever participated in.
“Don’t know what you mean, though. I think you have the wrong room. Alice told me 324.”
“Yes, she told me the same. But shouldn’t you be with my brother in 315?” he furrowed his eyebrows.
Did both Sirius and Regulus mix up their room numbers? No, no Regulus’s memory didn’t typically fail him like that, he was sure he’d heard correctly.
“I’m sure my actual roommate won’t enjoy his space being taken up when he arrives-”
Regulus was cut off by a dramatically loud shout from Sirius down the hall.
“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?”
Regulus and James shared a confused look and hurried down the hall to Sirius’s room where a tall boy with a leg prosthetic stood, boxes in hand.
“Ok, first of all rude, second of all, I could ask the same thing. What are you doing in my room? You’re not Regulus… are you?” he squinted and tilted his head at Sirius, which, fair. The brothers really could’ve been mistaken for twins.
“Mmm, nope, you’re not him. Who are you and why are you Regulus’s clone?”
Regulus recognized the boy to be Remus from the pictures on his profile, and the realization dawned on him.
“Shit,” Regulus groaned into his hands, pulling the attention from the other three.
“Sirius, I think our room numbers were swapped.”