Chapter Text
The war is brewing, everyone can feel it. Between hushed silences, and worried glances, it’s shown.
It would seem Dumbledore always had a kink for doing exactly what you’re 𝘯𝘰𝘵, meant to do in the middle of a wizarding war.
Every year patrol partners are assigned. They’re meant to ensure students aren’t sneaking around the castle at early hours in the morning. Every year the partners are simple, head boy and head girl are together, and the prefects within a house are together. It’s simple, easy, predictable. But Dumbledore had a knack for doing things the wrong way, at least in Regulus’ opinion as he opened the letter, stamped with the emerald green wax and signed clearly, “Regulus A. Black.”
The letter sent to Regulus Black was simple, direct. Who knew such little words had such a earth-shattering effect? The cursive— or cursed— letters in the heir’s shaking hands were sharp.
“Dear Regulus A. Black,
Hope this letter finds you in good health. As you should be well aware by now,”— he in fact wasn’t aware as Walburga had killed set us charms around the black manor to kill anything approaching, including owls with seemingly very important messages— “the patrol system is changing this year. Instead of the normal protocol of inter-house partners, you will instead be paired with someone from a different house. This system has been put in place in hopes of promotioning house unity. We are delighted to announce pairs have officially been assigned. Please find below your partner and schedule. Please contact your head of house if any changes are required in reference to your schedule. Partners cannot be changed without a valid reason and consent from both parties.
Sincerely, Albus Percieval Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.”
Regulus’ eyes scanned to the bottom of the page when in very clear letters wrote the name of the last person he wanted.
“James F. Potter”
Below was his schedule but Regulus didn’t even bother to read it. He felt his stomach drop down to his feet. It’s like Dumbledore predicted the backlash he would recieve from this, ensuring he put the 8 words that shattered Regulus’s world— “partner’s cannot be changed without a valid reason”— surely Dumbledore could make an exception for him.. right? He could march in there, loudly announce that he couldn’t be partners with James because James had the life he dreamed of and Regulus was jealous.
He was broken from his thoughts by a light tap on the table infront of him. “Is that about your patrol partner?” Asked Pandora in her soft tone. “Who is your victim?”
“I think I’m the victim here.” He said, still staring wide-eyes, mouth agape at the parchment.
“It can’t be that bad, right? Hey, if it weren’t for this house unity bullshit you would’ve been stuck with Snape.” Barty threw in, taking a bite from his sausage in a displeasing matter that did not help at all with his queasy stomach.
“I think I would’ve preferred to be paired with Severus.” Regulus whines.
Evan snatches the letter from his hand. “It can’t be that bad, surely.” His eyes scan over the page before he yelps, half-whispering, half-shouting “James Potter!? The James Potter!? You’re stuck with Potter!?” He wheezed, his eyes tearing over as he practically doubles over with laughter.
Barty stole the letter, reading the same 2 words before agreeing with Evan. “I thought Severus was the worst but I think Merlin hates you. This is hilarious. At least you’re the victim now.” Barty cackled.
“Hey,” Pandora interrupts, “James isn’t that bad. He’s head boy for a reason, you’re making the situation seem worse than it is. James is a nice boy I’m sure of if. Xeno tells me he’s really nice!”
“Who names their child Xenophilius!? It sounds like a foot fungus, can’t believe you’re 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 him.” Evan fake gagged, seeming disgusted although he would never admit he’s genuinely happy his sister found someone who matches her perfectly. He was convinced they were soulmates. They even agreed on odd conspiracy theories Pandora would dream about. The most recent one Evan had heard them talk about was that muggles had seen a pixie and that’s where the whole “fairytale” came from. It made no sense but he didn’t have the heart to burst their bubble.
As if this breakfast couldn’t get any worse, Regulus heard the distinct voice of the undeniable older Black, Sirius.
“Regulus.”
He turned around in his seat. “Sirius. As to what do I owe the displeasure?”
“You’re paired with James for patrol?” Regulus nearly couldn’t tell if Sirius was asking to reassure himself or confront Regulus as if it was his fault. 𝘕𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺. After years of growing up in the same house with him where whispers were sacred, he learnt everything about Sirius. The way he speaks, his vocal mannerisms, the tone of voice. When Sirius left he left behind the last of Regulus’ trust placed in him, but he didn’t leave behind the unspoken rituals, understanding, the kinds of systems you only develop growing up in a house where you’re expected to be 25 at 8.
“Is this a question or a statement?” Sirius shot him a look that said ‘don’t play with me right now’. “Unfortunately.”
“Unfortunately?! You’re not the victim here, James is!”
“Still haven’t lost your brotherly charm I see?” Regulus said, sarcasm lacing every carefully thought out word in fear of one miscalculation causing him to lose the last little bit of brotherly bond between them, being held together by hushed whispers and gauze around the cuts from their parents.
“Well you’re not a very charming man! You’ll kill him!” Sirius protested.
Regulus hummed in acknowledgment. “I think James can handle himself.”
“You’ll shatter him.”
Regulus almost laughed at the irony. James was practically indestructible. He was easily the most popular and influential person between Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. He had the perfect life, perfect friends, perfect family, perfect grades. He was head boy, quidditch captain, and had a whole fan club about him. People like James weren’t “shattered” by people like Regulus.
“I highly doubt we’ll even talk during patrol.”
“Regulus, s'il te plaît, fais juste attention avec lui.” The language switch caught him off guard but he quickly regained his composure.
“Je ferai attention à ton précieux petit frère.” Regulus’ words were laced with malice to cover the depth at which it hurt to say with the knowledge that it was true, and undeniable.
“I’ll see you later, Regulus.” Sirius stared at him with the same eyes he did when he left the house. The same eyes Regulus saw through blurry vision as he begged Sirius to stay with him, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 him. His eyes spoke a story no words could embody. His mouth gently opened and closed, the 3 words Regulus craved to hear getting lost on his tongue, before he turned away, not glancing back at Regulus’ solemn expression as he sat back on the Gryffindor table, laughing at his “new brother’s” probably dumb jokes. Regulus wouldn’t let it affect him though. He was known as the “emotionless” Black, a reputation he worked so hard for. He couldn’t let his image shatter over a laugh from a brother who wasn’t anymore.
Irony is a funny thing, Sirius expected Regulus to shatter James, but James had shattered every piece of Regulus without his knowledge. Humour and irony are both include tragedy; they’re two sides of the same coin.
“Regulus?” Pandora’s soft voice rang in the background.
“I have to go.” Regulus rushed to stand up, his head pounding.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Pandora offered, ready to grab her bag.
He couldn’t think of anything he wanted less right now, he needed to be alone. “No, it’s okay. Thanks Pandora.”
“Yo we have transfiguration first? I thought we were all walking together?” Someone else said, Barty or Evan probably.
“I’ll just meet you guys there.” Regulus said, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he rushed out of the great hall, breaking out in a run as soon as the doors closed behind him.
He didn’t stop running until he entered the prefect’s bathroom. He didn’t stop to catch his breath until he reached the furthest cubicle, slamming the door shut behind him. Even then he couldn’t breathe, the air coming out in gasps. His knees were on fire but he couldn’t stop to think about it, nor the pounding in his head. His heart felt like it was going a mile a minute. He could feel it slamming against his rib cage.
“Who’s there!” The high pitched shrill of Moaning Myrtle echoed around the bathroom. He couldn’t think of a single worse person to run into right now. At this point he’d preferred to have a breakdown infront of Severus. Honestly, Severus and Myrtle didn’t seem too different. Both had annoying voices, always got involved in other people’s businesses, and managed to appear at the worst moments.
He heard the approaching whoosh of Myrtle. “Who’s in there?!” She shouted from outside. After she got no response from a shaking Regulus, she peeked her head over the stall. “Ah, the better Black brother, the one who doesn’t throw soap at me!” Oh, and did he mention they both oddly love bringing up the one thing that’s causing the rhythmic tapping in his foot, the chips in his nails, and the weight on his shoulders?
“Regulus?” She asked, genuinely curious. “Are you alright?”
He broke, sobs racked his body. He wondered why someone ever thought to say that to a crying person in hopes of it helping. He shook his head, his lip quivering. Who was it reassuring? Was he meant to say “yeah actually I am”, get up, and just leave?
She floated under the door, sitting on a bench in the absurdley large cubicle. He was convinced that one of the stalls was the size of the entirety of the regular bathrooms for the entirety of the absurdly large student body.
“I’m personally an expert on crying, you would have never guessed, no one ever sees me cry,” she joked. Myrtle was often quite funny when she wasn’t throwing a tantrum. “Sometimes you just gotta cry it all out. That’s what I usually do.” She kicked her legs back and forth, twiddling with her thumbs. “Do you want me to get Pomfrey?” He shook his head, a silent objection. “Your brother?” He croaked out a quiet “no”, his voice rough and raw.
He wiped his eyes far to harshly with the sleeves on his robe, standing up. “I have to go, Myrtle.”
“Are you sure you’ll be alright, Regulus?” She asked, genuine sincerity in her tone.
“I’ll be okay. Thank you, Myrtle.” He mumbled before the waterworks broke again and the dam let loose. He rushed out of the bathroom.
One out of many more panic attacks to come with this new arrangement.
This was going to be a long year.