Chapter Text
Evan Rosier and Regulus Black were not actually related.
Well. They were both Sacred 28 Purebloods so if you went far enough back, but you had to go pretty goddamned far. No, Evan's Aunt Druella had married Regulus’s Uncle Cygnus and they had the same first cousins in Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Narcissa.
They didn't really know each other before Regulus started at Hogwarts. They existed in the same circles, had seen each other, but Evan was pretty sure Regulus hadn't said two words to him in his first 11 years of life. From what he saw at the miserable gatherings kids of rich, powerful families got dragged to - Regulus didn't seem to say anything to anyone.
Not like Sirius, who had a chip on his shoulder and harsh words on his lips. Evan found him impressive. Stupid, but impressive. Not enough to talk to, of course, because Evan’s life was easier when his parents thought he could behave.
Evan probably wouldn't have really gotten to know Regulus, if Sirius hadn't gotten sorted into Gryffindor and Andromeda hadn't run off with a mudblood and the Black family hadn't imploded on itself.
But it did. And suddenly, at the last gathering at Auntie Druella's before his second year, Bella and Cissa had cornered Evan and told him that Sirius had failed and Evan needed to be Regulus’s brother at school.
To which Evan, despite being half their size, told them to piss off. Evan had a brother - a decade older than him, married to some pretty pureblood - and didn't need another.
Bella knew how to hex so it didn't leave marks, but it hurt like hell.
The girls didn't get in trouble. Evan wasn't a snitch.
—
He stuck to his guns, was prepared to give the Black brat the cold shoulder, then he saw the poor kid on the platform. Potter had run over to Sirius as soon as the Black boys had gotten away from Kreacher - not like Walburga or Orion would see their kids off - and Sirius said something and they ended up laughing at Regulus.
It was brief. Evan just happened to be looking, happened to have grown up with the same masks, so he saw it. The moment Regulus’s face fell. It was instantly replaced with his mask and Narcissa swooped in and, as far as Evan knew, the poor first year ended up spending the train ride with Narcissa and her doting lackeys, all seventh years.
He got sorted into Slytherin. He didn't look happy about it. He didn't look anything, mask so firmly in place, as if emotions were something he'd moved beyond. Narcissa insisted Regulus sit next to her. Evan was sat well down the table and winced in sympathy.
Right after him was Crouch - whose eyes were dull and haunted and frowned when he got sorted into Slytherin. Slughorn, however, was beside himself. Everyone knew who Barty Crouch Sr was - ol Sluggy had gotten another Black and the son of a powerful ministry official and, really, they could send everyone else home as far as the man was concerned.
Crouch ended up next to Regulus. They were two of the most miserable looking first years. Evan had figured that Crouch would be just as reserved as the rest of them, all upholding the family name.
He was wrong.
Two weeks later, Crouch was mouthing off to teachers and upperclassmen alike, got himself detention, and managed to dock Slytherin about 100 points.
It was impressive. In a ‘that kid is probably going to end up in Azkaban’ kind of way. Evan was just glad Bella had already graduated. Barty seemed like the kind of kid she would take under her wing.
Maybe he would have paid more attention to the first years, but Regulus seemed to keep to himself and Narcissa had him so it wasn't Evan’s problem.
—
That Yule was hosted at Auntie Druella's, which meant the Black brothers were there. Not long after dinner, the adults had shoved the kids off to entertain themselves. The only ‘kids' at that point were Evan, Sirius, and Regulus. Everyone else had come of age, Narcissa was preening like a peacock about her first Yule as an adult.
Sirius was already in a snit, he'd been silencio'd five minutes into dinner and his ability to speak had only just been returned. He was sneering.
“How's school going, Bébé Noir?” Evan asked, using the form of the ‘Baby Black’ nickname that most pissed off Regulus, who responded with a withering glare. Sirius huffed a laugh.
“Fine,” Regulus said, pressing his lips together.
“Any favorite classes?” Evan asked, giving it two more questions before he walked away.
“Erm… Potions…” Regulus said, chewing the inside of his cheek.
Sirius scoffed, “I might enjoy potions if we didn't have to put up with Snivellus for it.”
“He says his friend Lily Evans is very good at it,” Regulus said in a small voice, looking uncertainly at his brother, and Evan was suddenly quite interested in what was happening. “It's quite impressive, especially for a mudblood–”
As soon as the word left his lips, Sirius’s face contorted in rage and he growled at his brother, “How dare you call her that?! You disgust me!”
He stormed off, leaving Regulus shaken and ashen faced.
Evan didn't think Sirius noticed that his little brother had been trying to compliment a muggle born, something Walburga and Orion would have been furious about. It was the last time he ever heard Regulus say the word ‘mudblood’. He didn't think Sirius noticed that, either.
“Want to go to the observatory?” Evan asked.
“Yeah, okay,” Regulus said.
“He's mostly mad at the adults, you know,” Evan added, not sure why.
“I guess,” Regulus said, but he looked a bit less miserable.
After they got back to school, Evan offered to help Regulus study sometimes.
—
Evan didn't pay much attention to Barty until Regulus’s third year. The Rosiers hated Crouch Sr, and Evan didn't particularly care about the kid. Evan’s family was wealthy and powerful enough, his brother was on his way to producing heirs, Evan could have a pretty cushy life if he just kept in line.
It didn't bother him, really, the restrictions were mostly ‘don't get caught’. So sticking his nose into the drama with Crouch didn't fit into Evan’s ‘live a cushy life’ plan, and Crouch wasn’t anyone to Evan, so why disrupt the plan?
Regulus had ended up spending more time with Crouch over the years, natural effect of being in the same house and year. Evan kept a loose awareness about this, not wanting Regulus to get dragged into anything. But Regulus, at least, knew how not to get caught and how to charm the teachers.
Regulus only got detention the one time that the scrawny, milquetoast sop of Sirius’s gang managed to get Regulus to duel in the library of all places. Lupin hadn't hit his growth spurt yet, weedy little thing, it was still kind of hilarious to Evan that he managed to get Regulus flustered enough to get detention.
Maybe he should have paid more attention to that situation.
But he had not guessed that detention would somehow lead to, a year later, Regulus knocking on Evan’s door looking like he'd been in a brawl and saying, “I need your help. I fucked up Barty.”
It was easy to forget Regulus was a Black. Sure, it was his surname, but he was humble and reserved and didn't really display the cruelty or talent his family had. But when Regulus led him to the barely conscious boy, at the end of a forgotten corridor in the dungeons, Evan remembered.
Regulus wouldn't look at either of them, hands balled into fists at his sides, jaw shut tight and tilted up at a defiant angle that reminded Evan of Bellatrix.
If he wasn't willing to go to Madam Pomfrey, Evan could only imagine that whatever happened was pretty bad.
“Go back to your room. I'll deal with him,” Evan said wearily and Regulus gave a single jerky nod before walking away.
“What the fuck have you gotten yourselves into?” Evan muttered, taking his wand out, teasing out the dark magic and whatever injuries.
“S'alright,” Barty slurred.
Evan snorted derisively. Right. “Fuck did you do to piss Reggie off this much?”
“Naw…” Barty mumbled, “Regg's jus’... blow'n off steam… s'fine…”
No, this was not fine, and Evan furrowed his brow, puzzling this out while working on the healing. After Barty no longer looked to be in so much pain, Evan clarified, “He attacked you for no reason? Really?”
“I let him,” Barty said, “Who fuckin’ cares, yeh?”
One of the core traits of Slytherins was self preservation. They could be vile bastards, and get into some nasty scrapes for their willingness to dabble with darkness, but there was usually an underlying aspect of saving your own arse.
He didn't see any of that on the third year's face. There was a disturbing apathy on his face considering he'd been fucked over by the kind of dark magic you only learn when it's been passed down for a million generations.
It did not settle well in his gut. He didn't like it. Slytherin could be a damn lonely place, and from what Evan could tell Barty knew how to make enemies more than he knew how to make friends.
“Barty…” Evan started, not even sure where he was going, and the kid wrinkled his nose and let out a laugh, a mad cackle that echoed off the stonework of the corridor.
“Fuck, I hate being called that,” he said, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, “S'not even mine, y'know, it's that fucking bastard’s, and I'm stuck with it.”
Evan let out a long breath, sat back on his heels, and nodded, searching for something to say.
“I could call you Bee.”
Barty snorted at that, “My initial. Original.”
“No, like the bug, like a bumblebee,” Evan corrected, shrugging.
“Oh,” Barty said, rubbing his face and looking away, “Yeah. Okay.”
“Feel well enough to move, Bee?”
“Think so.”
Evan nodded, helping him up, “Want to go to the Hospital Wing?”
“Naw. Not worth getting Reggie in trouble. M'fine.”
Well, physically at least he was probably alright. Evan was pretty decent with healing, and he grew up around the dark arts. Knew how to handle them. Barty hadn't hit his growth spurt yet, Evan was bigger than him, so supporting his weight and half-dragging him to his dorm wasn't so bad.
“Can you take me to your room?” Barty asked when they were a corner away from the Slytherin Common Room, not looking at him. Barty hadn't looked at him once since Regulus had brought Evan to fix his mess.
“You got your own.”
“Don't like it.”
“They're the same.”
Barty shrugged, still leaning heavily on Evan.
For a reason he couldn't explain, he brought Barty to his own room. Got his shoes off, sat on his bed, pressed a glass of water into his hands.
“Drink this. Don't touch my shit,” Evan said.
“Don't be mad at him,” Barty said, staring at the cup, “S'fine, really. Not the first time. Just… went a little far, cuz he's upset.”
“I said to drink that,” Evan said firmly, not wanting to think about what had just happened right then. He would talk to Regulus later. Figure out what the fuck happened between the two. Make sure it never happened again.
—
The next day, Evan went back to his dorm after dinner to find Barty sat on his floor, papers spread in front of him, wearing Evan’s jumper.
“You made some mistakes on this essay,” Barty said, holding it up. There were a few notes and marks over it.
Evan frowned, “You're not in my year.”
Barty shrugged, roughly picking at the hem of the jumper, apparently not bothered about possibly wrecking it.
The notes were good, though, or Evan thought they were. He made the changes and got an O on the essay. Now, Evan usually got Os and Es so this wasn't too noteworthy- but considering the third year had given him good advice, it was impressive.
“I'm good at transfiguration,” Barty explained with a shrug when Evan asked about it, he didn't look at Evan and looked nervous.
“You are,” he agreed. “This was great, Bee, thank you, you really helped me.”
The response was almost comical. First, he made a jerky movement as if slapped, his brows furrowing, then his eyes widened and his mouth fell open, before cracking into a bright grin that Evan reluctantly had to admit was beautiful.
He had the distinct impression that Barty was wholly unused to being told he'd done a good job.
—
In the spirit of keeping an eye on Regulus and Barty to make sure they didn't go back to anything dangerous, Evan started insisting they hang out in the library to work on homework together.
Which was how he discovered that Barty studied.
It was a little unnerving, actually, the single-minded focus he got. They were now sharing a room because Barty refused to go back to his own and Evan didn’t have the heart to kick him out, and Evan learned that Barty devoted far too many hours to studying. He studied subjects he wasn't even taking and brushed it off saying he didn't need the class to take the exam. Evan didn't see why anyone would need to take that many exams but Barty just shrugged and went back to work.
He studied obsessively, then needed to aggressively let off steam. That was how he'd ended up in the situation with Regulus - Regulus had pent up anger and Barty was just pent up so they ended up letting off aggression. At one point Evan had asked why they didn't just fuck - then Barty said that's what they'd been doing and Evan half regretted asking.
There was nothing romantic about the way Evan and Barty fell together. They were two hormonal teenagers sharing a bed. It happened. It was rough and dirty. Two people using each other to get off. It wasn't exclusive. Barty just wouldn't show up some evenings, off in someone else's bed. Evan would sometimes try it on with people at parties, then try not to think about how unsatisfying it was, or why he always went back to his own room just in case Barty wanted to be there.
It wasn't anything. Just letting off steam.
—
Sometimes Evan would think about the first time they met - well, that's what he called it, even though they shared a house and sort of orbited each other beforehand - when Barty was wrecked in an out of the way corridor, focused on making sure Regulus didn't get into trouble. Evan wondered what his home life was like, what was going on in his head.
It was easy to forget about during term. Now that Barty had healthier outlets, he didn't seem to be getting up to anything that would wreck him. Regulus was doing better as well, keeping in closer touch with Narcissa and spending more time with the Ravenclaws.
Then it was nearly time for the winter holiday.
“Do you think there's any way they'd let me stay at yours?” Regulus asked Evan, picking at his cuticles and staring out at the grounds as if the snow had personally offended him.
“Why?” Evan asked, startled.
“I really don't want to be around Sirius, and it's not like I enjoy being home,” Regulus muttered darkly.
Evan pressed his lips together. It reminded him of the mood Regulus had been in when he'd hurt Barty so badly, and Evan was more than a bit irritated that Regulus wasn't just admitting his brother had done something to cause that.
“I don't know. Auntie Druella's hosting Yule. We can talk to her then,” Evan said, it was the best he had to offer.
Regulus nodded, and he looked down at his hands, “I wish Barty could stay with you, but his father would never allow it.”
“Why's that?” Evan asked.
“Senior hates our families,” Regulus said with a small shrug, “Barty tried to stay here for the break… but he's got to make some appearances… he's not okay when he comes back.”
“He's not?”
“You'll see,” Regulus said.
—
The first glimpse Evan got of how Barty was affected by his father was during the train ride back. The three had ended up in a compartment with Dorcas, a Slytherin girl in Evan’s year. At about the same time, Barty and Regulus both looked at each other with resignation and began becoming the people that their parents expected them to be.
Barty undid the dye on his hair, leaving it the color of straw. He put on a prim and proper suit in the most dull beige Evan had ever seen. He looked washed out and vulnerable and Evan had half a mind to throw Barty into his trunk and smuggle him home.
As the train pulled into the station, Barty went rigid. His face was expressionless, his movements were stiff, as if every ounce of personality had been drained from him.
Evan cornered him before letting him off the train, gripping his shoulder. “Bee,” he said, “I'll be here when you come back. It's gonna be okay.”
Barty crashed their lips together, kissing him desperately and hungrily and wetly. Then he pulled back, spelled away the tears and spit and gave Evan a broken smile. “Happy Christmas, yeh?”
“Happy Christmas,” Evan agreed, and watched as Barty approached a man who looked very much like him. The man was severe and grim and pressing his lips together in disappointment as soon as Barty came into view. Rage curled in Evan’s gut.