Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Um, hello! Can I help you find anything?”

“No.”

“Sorry, it’s just, you’ve been staring at that map for a while now and I know how confusing the London Tube can be, and they really don’t label things well and-”

“I believe I said I’m fine.”

The map was confusing, but Regulus was hardly going to admit to some busy-bodied muggle that he had no idea where he was going or what he was doing. A giant web of underground tunnels navigated using a sheet of nonsensical squiggles. It was archaic. Plebeian. Just because the lines were all labelled things he didn’t know and there were no above-ground landmarks written in didn’t mean he couldn’t figure this out. The goal wasn’t to get anywhere anyway, just to prove once and for all that Muggle London was stupid and Sirius was stupid and that everything was necessary. And-

“No offense, but you’ve been staring at that map for at least ten minutes. If you could read it-. Oh! Are you deciding where to go!? I can help you decide where to go! I’ve been here for six veryyyyy boring months and I’m something of an expert.”

The muggle was still there, and neatly proving every point on the better manners of wizards that Rosier had ever tried to make. Regulus finally turned fully, leveling the unimpressed stare that usually got Evan, if not Barty, to back off.

The muggle, insult to injury, just grinned.

“Oh you’re sooooo lost.” She laughed. “Sorry, sorry, I think I did cross a line a bit with this. But, like, I just saw you and thought ‘Wow I’ve been there, those maps suck and it’s so confusing and everyone here just looks right over you like you don’t exist and act like giving directions is a cardinal sin’ and then I was like ‘gee I should see if he needs help’, and you were right rude by the way but that's fair I mean by city standards I’m rude just coming up and talking to you and’”-

Regulus’ very best And Your Point Is expression had finally made a dent in the tirade. Muggles truly couldn’t be relied upon for any form of social intelligence. The girl shifted a bit from foot to foot, grin sliding more sheepish by the second. Unfortunately, she took Regulus’ continued silence as an invitation to rally rather than leave.

“How about I make it up to you? Your own personal London tour guide, or at least talking tube map! I’ve got the day free and, well, it’s the neighborly thing to do. If you think of the city as one really really big neighborhood. Or you can tell me to beat it! That’s cool- that’s cool too.”

“If I accept, does the non-stop chatter come sidealong?” And Merlin did Regulus wish he could take that back the second he said it. Apparently second year and Barty had taught him nothing. One quip, one clever insult, and like a kicked dog given a biscuit the muggle girl’s eyes lit up. All pretenses at a pandering apology had vanished from her posture. She stood upright, practically on tip-toe.

“I promise the non-stop chatter will be lots of fun facts! Or unfun ones, I am prone to tangents like you said. Anywhere you want to go? Don’t want to? Is money a problem? The tube’s got a fare but most places are walk-about and I took this fascinating class on architecture last term so I can give the full tourist spiel on so many things-”

And from there it was easiest to get swept along down the tube platform, carried by a relentless torrent of facts that were definitely un-fun. Regulus wondered, a bit despairingly, if it was a curse he’d acquired somehow. To forever be bothered by a never-ending line of chatterboxes who took a scathing repartee as a lifelong bond of friendship. At least Dorcas-.

But Dorcas wasn’t sane. She’d leapt after Susan and her stupid crusading as if a thousand years of tradition meant nothing. And with her leaving Pandora had started with her hesitating and her big sad eyes, acting like 'the horror of it all' should bother him too, as if she didn't cry over trampled flowers.

And the muggle was still talking, like she hadn’t even noticed that he wasn’t paying attention. This had all been a stupid idea. If he’d just stood there, or said ‘no’ one final time. Why oh why hadn’t he just said no? It would’ve been the third refusal and surely the rule of three would be enough to get this feral muggle to just leave him alone.

To what? Wander the tube platform aimlessly? If the goal was to learn the full character of the muggle world, and confirm its inferiority, what better than an incredibly knowledgeable and incredibly irritating guide? This was fine. The fact that she reminded him of Pandora and Barty was fine. Regulus wasn’t Sirius. He wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t get himself attached to the first muggle he talked to and abandon thousands of years of tradition and heritage and get his name burned off the ancestral tapestry to end forever one branch of the ancient and most noble-

Yeah. Fine. This was definitely fine. Regulus wouldn’t make his brother's mistakes. He was a Death Eater, set above the rabble by a thousand years of noble traditions. He had his mark now. Soon, he’d be graduated. Ready to step fully into everything that would entail. It was good to start now, to silence the voices and confirm that this was the right path.

Everything would be fine.

Chapter Text

It was cloudy, and barely 20 degrees, and June, and therefore the perfect day to forget one’s jacket and get utterly lost in London. Despite a near accident with a car that may perhaps have had the right of way, and another near miss with a quite unsettling looking puddle, by the time Nina had made it into the Underground she was slightly out of breath, no longer cold, and perfectly, wonderfully happy. It was the sort of day she’d had often since coming to London, where the world felt wide, and inviting, and serendipitous.

So of course, when she saw a boy close to her own age standing at the tube map, there was only one possible option. Going and talking to him. He had a stance that was cooly confident, assured, and with posture that seemed drilled. Despite the attitude, however, he seemed out of place. Too polished and rigid for easy bustle of the Underground. That, and the length of time he had spent looking at a map, indicated he needed some help. With remembered amusement for her own initial attempts navigating London, Nina stepped forward.

“Um, hello! Can I help you find anything?”

The boy straightened, as if startled, but stayed looking at the board. In a curt, dismissive tone he responded.

“No.”

Nina allowed a second for a further response, but there was none. And since he still hadn’t moved from the map, it was clearly a misplaced sense of pride driving his response. He looked the type.

“Sorry, it’s just, you’ve been staring at that map for a while now and I know how confusing the London Tube can be, and they really don’t label things well and-”

“I believe I said I’m fine.”

He had managed, somehow, to make that second reply even curter, and snootier. Standing there, ramrod straight, with a shirt that looked positively Victorian, Nina was struck with such a wave of fond exasperation that she almost laughed.

“No offense, but you’ve been staring at that map for at least five minutes. If you could read it–oh!” An alternate possibility struck Nina, and with it a wave of sudden, feral inspiration. “Are you deciding where to go!? I can help you decide where to go! I’ve been here for six veryyyyy busy months, and I’m something of an expert.”

The boy turned and glared at her. His expression suited his tone and outfit so well, he could have sprung from a drama or a gallery painting. He looked every inch the posh aristocrat, and no wonder he was confused. He’d probably never so much as set foot in a tube station before in his life.

“Oh, you’re sooooo lost.” Nina laughed. Watching his expression close further into hostility, she hastily backtracked. “Sorry, sorry, I think I did cross a line a bit with this. But, like, I just saw you and thought ‘Wow I’ve been there, those maps suck and it’s so confusing and everyone here just looks right over you like you don’t exist and act like giving directions is a cardinal sin’ and then I was like ‘gee I should see if he needs help’, and you were right rude by the way but that's fair I mean by city standards I’m rude just coming up and talking to you and’” – And she was rambling. Nina cut off, taking a breath. He really was striking but walking up to a stranger and not taking no for an answer was hardly polite.

The silence stretched, but no further cutting remark came. It was surprisingly gracious of him to give her time to reign her excitement in and regroup.

“How about I make it up to you?” Nina tried. “Your own personal London tour guide, or at least talking tube map! I’ve got the day free and, well, it’s the neighborly thing to do. If you think of the city as one really really big neighborhood. Or you can tell me to beat it! That’s cool- that’s cool too.”

The offered out hung in the air for one awful, silent moment, before the boy rolled his eyes sardonically and replied, “If I accept, does the non-stop chatter come sidealong?”

It was a joke, and whatever sidealong meant, the olive branch was clear. Relieved that he hadn’t really minded, Nina let her last bit of restraint slip away and bounced back onto her toes.

“I promise the non-stop chatter will be lots of fun facts! Or unfun ones, I am prone to tangents like you said. Anywhere you want to go? Don’t want to? Is money a problem? The tube’s got a fare, but most places are walk-about and I took this fascinating class on architecture last term so I can give the full tourist spiel on so many things-”

---------------

It was surprisingly comfortable and easy, for all that he was a complete stranger. Nina talked, unchecked and casual, bouncing across topics and areas of interest as they came to her. With each train stop, he stayed with her, with the same air of patronizing interest. Occasionally he sniffed, or rolled his eyes, or laughed sharply, as if surprised by his own amusement. Nina had always enjoyed that sharp sort of attention, friendship that danced on the edge of mockery. It felt secure, to know that if he expressed his disdain so often, but stayed, it was because he truly didn’t mind the tangents and the energy.

He seemed comfortable, too, in a way most people weren’t, amused by Nina’s blunt comments and long tangents rather than long-sufferingly tolerant. Nina could tell that most of what she said bored him, but he responded to direct questions and pauses, as if used to feigning interest for the sake of friends. He was also oddly fascinated by certain things, listening with rapt attention to the histories of parliament, where he had rolled his eyes to every fact about the Queen. At one point he even dragged Nina into a store of television sets and wandered the displays for an hour.

The sun setting seemed to surprise them both. The boy, Regulus Black he had introduced himself as, with an air of gravitas that meant it was a name people should be familiar with, stopped on the sidewalk and stared at the darkening horizon with an almost despairing look.

“It’s alright,” said Nina, struck by another wave of fond understanding. “I’ll take you back to the stop where we met, I’ve got to be getting back too. I had the most amazing time today. I know it's been, well, a bit odd, but would you want to meet up again? I’m in the city for the summer, and it’ll take more than a day to see everything. I could be your guide for, well, as long as you want really.”

The request had come out blunter than she’d meant it to, but the idea of losing what felt like her first real friend here to the sea of strangers felt unbearable. Regulus stared at her. He had a way of thinking, with a surprisingly solemn sort of gravity, always before he spoke. Trying not to let the earlier awkward nervousness return, Nina waited.

Finally, he nodded. “Why not, I suppose. I can meet you at the same place next week. 10 o’clock.”

“Great!” said Nina. And it was. He gave a sharp, but polite, goodbye at the station, and for the whole walk home her heart beat faster than it should have. It was the start of the summer, and she had made a new friend, someone who wanted to see her again. School had gone well, and the weather was getting warmer. And really, with that dark hair and those eyes, he’d been quite cute. Doing her best not to kick her feet, and feeling wonderfully seventeen, Nina went to sleep.