Chapter Text
Regulus shuts down minutes before he steps into the sitting room.
It’s a self defense reflex he executes whenever he is forced to speak, or rather listen, to his parents. Stop feeling, or if you can’t, don’t let it show on your face. Don’t think about the expensive black dress falling past your knees. Your trousers are packed in your Hogwarts trunk. In only a few days you’ll be out of this house and won’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not.
But Regulus is here, far away from himself as he sits primly on the sofa, his bare legs crossed at the ankle, listening to the clock tick as his parents eye him appraisingly. He forces his expression carefully neutral.
“Good evening, Maman. Père.” Their gazes hold no fondness for their remaining son.
“You’ll be of age when you return from Hogwarts this year,” Walburga says, her tone direct. Regulus sets his jaw.
“Yes, Maman.”
“It is crucial to the family that you marry respectably upon your graduation. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” Regulus manages despite the lump in his throat. He’s 16. He’s 16 and in less than two years he will be married off to a man who will expect his obedience and worse. A man deceived by the promise of a pretty young wife. Regulus can only fear his future husband’s response should he discover who he has truly married.
“Your father and I will arrange every detail before the time arrives. You may be expected to court should it strike the young man’s fancy to speak to you preemptively. We expect you to maintain your purity until you are wed,” Walburga orders. Orion has not said a word this entire time, his grey eyes cloudy as they glance disinterestedly over Regulus. “That is all. You are dismissed.”
Regulus does not stand. He weighs his words carefully.
“May I know if my betrothed has been selected?” His mother purses her lips.
“As of yet, it has not been decided. It is a delicate business choosing which noble house would benefit us most in an alliance.”
“I–” Regulus holds his breath, daring to hope. “May I suggest Evan Rosier? I know him to be a gentlemen and he would serve our reputation well–” Orion laughs suddenly, the sound humorless. Regulus freezes in fear.
“I wouldn’t give you to the Rosier boy if he were the last eligible Pureblood alive." Regulus tries not to let his face fall. “You think we’re blind, don’t you? You play the obedient daughter with your skirts and school books but you’re just as rebellious as your good for nothing brother. I can see the hate in your eyes clear as day, child. I’ll be damned if I let you marry any man who doesn’t know how to control you.” Regulus knows better than to cry.
“The Pureblood families will quarrel with us if they are not chosen. You’d put the family at risk by favoring one over the others.”
“I’d lend you out to every Pureblood who wanted to try you if you weren’t my only chance at a real heir,” Orion says softly, his expression unrelenting. Regulus fights to keep from shaking.
“I warn you, they will despise us unless they have equal opportunity to win my hand.”
“And how do you propose to prevent this?” Walburga asks, seemingly bored despite Regulus’ entire life at stake. He sets his shoulders, determined.
“Make it an unbiased contest. Only open to eligible Purebloods in high esteem,” Regulus adds quickly, his mind racing. He needs to fix this but every part of his mind screams to flee far away from here. He wishes he were at Hogwarts, where his clothes feel right and he can hex anyone who looks at him wrong. Where, when the voices in his head get too loud, he can slip out the dorm and into his second skin, slinking like a wraith through the school’s corridors and passages. Then, he’s not in the wrong body, he’s grace and sophistication without human failing. Then, no one can find him and no one can catch him–
No one can catch him.
“There’s a little black cat on the Hogwarts grounds,” he hears himself say. “It’s quick, and it doesn’t trust anyone. Make it known that any Pureblood who catches that cat may have my hand in marriage," he says with a careful glance at his father.
“Not Rosier,” Orion orders, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And not Crouch.” Shit. There goes Plan B.
“No tricks,” Regulus agrees. “The man who wins will be the one who proves he has the determination and skill to keep me.”
“I pity any man foolish enough to want you,” Orion replies with a scoff, standing and leaving the room. Regulus sits in silence across from his mother. She stands with a sniff.
“I needn’t remind you your reputation is your most important concern.” Regulus doesn’t respond. After a moment, Walburga turns and leaves the room, too.
Regulus waits until the door clicks shut before tucking his knees to his chest on the couch and closing his eyes.
Three days later, he steps off of the train in his carefully pressed shirt and trousers, his shoes polished to a gleam.
He doesn’t have time to brace himself before he is nearly tackled in a hug.
“I finally convinced Father to send a formal proposal but your parents sent it back unopened. I was so worried something happened to you, Regulus–” He hugs Evan back awkwardly, aware of the eyes they are drawing on the train platform.
“I’m okay. They just– The plan didn’t work.”
“Any chance they'd approve of me?” Barty interjects, slinging an arm casually around Regulus’ shoulders as he pulls away from Evan. “I never considered myself the marrying type, but I could certainly do worse than your pretty face.”
“They turned down both of you,” Regulus says with a sigh. “I think they’ve caught on that I’m–”
“That you’re just as gay as your brother?” Barty asks with a sarcastic gasp. “They should really be more grateful to have the respectable son they always wanted.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Regulus admits quietly. “They will force me to marry, and if it’s not either than you, there’s no way he’ll understand–”
“Hey,” Evan says, taking Regulus’ face in his hands. “We won’t let anyone hurt you, okay? Never, Reg. We’ll figure out a way to keep you safe.” Regulus wraps his arms around his neck tightly.
“How can you be sure?”
“Please. We’re us, Reg,” Barty declares. “If Ev and I can’t threaten whoever you’re stuck with into respecting you, then you just get a knife and you finish the job. You’re more than smart enough to make it look like an accident.” Evan squeezes him once more before letting him go. Regulus sniffs, straightening his sleeve.
“Technically, I do have part of a plan already.” Barty grins and slings an arm around his waist, leading him toward the school.
“How can we help, beautiful?”