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Since he was young, Regulus had always known there was something wrong with him.
His mother called him Alcyone to match with his brother’s name—Sirius.
Alcyone was the brightest star in Pleiades, just like Sirius was the brightest star in Canis Major.
It didn’t matter he wasn’t even matter he wasn’t tauro—constellation Pleiades was in—-, nor that as much as he had wanted to voice it, that name never felt his.
Nor the dresses he was made to wear through all his life or the way his parents referred to him.
For a long while, Regulus hadn’t said anything.
He had played to be Alcyone, the perfect little girl that would do everything to make her parents proud even when their eyes were always on her brother.
The perfect little girl that wouldn’t complain about dresses or hair longer than what it felt right.
But things had gone down at some point.
Regulus wasn’t sure how it started, but he was sure when it got worse.
He was nine—almost ten—, and it was, too, the year Sirius left for Hogwarts.
The boy was truly crushed, because at nine, his body had started to develop faster. His breast had started to grow, and at some point, so period came.
It made him feel sick. All of it. And he had cried a lot about it.
Sirius never knew why, but his arms never stopped being open for his crying sister.
At some point, Regulus learnt by heart all the mirrors and reflective surfaces in his house, avoiding them unless it was extremely necessary, because his own reflection felt wrong enough to even glance at it.
When Sirius left for Hogwarts, Regulus felt lonelier than ever. Not only was it the first time his brother wasn’t around, but it was the first time he ever had to learn how to cry in silence.
The first time his mother heard him, naive enough by his mother’s love, Regulus told her.
He didn’t go into specifics because not even he knew, but he told her his body didn’t feel right. That his hair was too long, that her breast felt repulsive, that his bottom made him sick and the dresses felt suffocating.
Regulus never hinted once he wanted to be a boy. He didn’t even know he wanted to be so, but his mother had gone nuts at the mere idea.
She wasn’t like that most part of the time.
She was harsh, yes, and very strict and mean—especially towards Sirius—, but she loved them. Both their parents did.
And it wasn’t often that she raised her wand at him. Or anyone.
Not yet.
And she had.
Mother told him not to ever mention it again, and Regulus did not.
Not until Sirius came back, anyway.
Things were awkward now, because Sirius was a Gryffindor, and that wasn’t ok. He didn’t even seem sad about it, which was confusing, and Regulus knew it wasn’t right, but he didn’t mind as much as their parents.
They made a really big deal out of it, but Regulus barely addressed it yet.
That was, surely, the most awkward Christmas he ever went through. But it was too, undoubtedly, the happiest one.
At the very start, it had been all the same. Or not really, because Mother was even more volatile, but never anything far.
Then, Sirius had noticed he had been acting differently. That he had been looking awful and sad.
When his brother first asked, Regulus dismissed it.
That same night, the boy knocked on his brother’s door and cried in his arms about what Mother had done and how awful his body felt.
Sirius hadn’t really understood anything of what he explained. Not when he explained his hair was too long. Not when he explained the dresses made him feel as if he were in a constant costume.
But he had known his sibling felt bad, and that’s all it took for Sirius to offer to cut his hair and lend him some of his own clothes.
They were huge, but Regulus never felt happier. And as disastrous as his haircut had been after Sirius used the scissors on him, for once, the mirror reflected him.
Not someone he was not. Not the person he had been seeing everyday, the one he hated to look at. No.
The one looking back at him in the mirror, for once, felt like himself. And Regulus had known just then, seeing the young boy his reflection was, that it was his true self.
***
“But you’re a girl?” Sirius had asked when he mentioned it, and Regulus feared his brother would hate him now. “How can you not be?”
“I… I don’t know, I think I don’t know, I don't make sense,” the boy sniffed, being pulled closer into his brother’s arms. “I want to be like you. I don’t even like my name. It doesn’t feel mine.”
“...but it is?”
“It’s not! I— I’m used to it, but it’s not mine! My reflection isn’t either. I… or my body. I don’t like it. I don’t like it, Siri.”
The moment his younger sibling broke down, Sirius knew a single thing: if Alc— if his sibling didn’t like to be called that way, Sirius would not. Whether he understood it or not. Whether it made or not sense in his head.
“Which name do you like more? Not Sirius! That’s mine, you have to get a new one. I don’t share,” the boy pouted, and Regulus giggled softly.
“I don’t know. I like being the brightest star too, like you… But I don’t like the name.”
A short silence filled the room.
“I like the heart of the lion. You’re a lion now. I don’t understand it, but I want to be with you too.”
“Regulus?”
“Mhm.”
Sirius nodded briefly, quite touched that his sibling’s preferred name was thought with him in mind.
“I think it fits you better. It’s also Little King, and it fits, because if there’s any king, I am! But I’m the big one, so you could always be the little one.”
“Do you really think I could be?”
“I don’t know. But if you want to be Regulus, I’ll call you like that.”
“Isn’t it weird?”
“Oh, it definitely is. I have no idea what’s going through your brain. But it’s also weird not liking girls, I think. Or Mother would say so. And I don’t.”
Regulus squinted his nose. “I don’t like them either. Love is gross. Kissing and… do you know people put their tongue in the other’s mouth when kissing? Bella mentioned it in summer, it’s gross! I don’t know how people can like that. It’s not hygienic.”
Sirius snorted, laughing aloud and keeping his sibling closer.
There wasn’t a single thing he understood yet, but he knew his sibling, whether her name was Alcyone or Regulus.
***
Neither had seen Walburga as angry as she was that morning, but not even when Regulus sneaked into his room later that night, Sirius had stopped smiling.
“I hadn’t seen you happier than last night."
When Sirius went back to Hogwarts, things grew colder at home, and once in Easter, with his brother back, Regulus had already figured things out.
Being called Regulus was good, but he wanted to try differently. To know how it was being referred to as a boy.
A whole new world opened before him the moment Sirius addressed him that way once, and since then, not a single time his brother had changed back from masculine pronouns.
Not even when Mother or Father were around is that Sirius cut himself off.
Regulus had many times given in. Asked Sirius to stop calling him Regulus, to stop treating him as a boy. Because their parents hated it. They hated it so much, and consequences made him cry.
But Sirius hadn’t once backed off.
He never said it aloud, but Regulus couldn’t be more glad.
When the younger brother’s Hogwarts letter arrived, it was addressed to him. To Regulus. To Mr Black, not Miss Black. And when he first tried to go up to the girls dorm—as he had grown used to, always girl things—, the stairs had flattened and made him fall on his butt.
He found out that day he had been paired up with four other boys, one of which he knew—a distant cousin of his.
Evan had been a bit confused, but he never mentioned a thing to the ones that didn’t know, and neither he made a big deal out of it.
With time, his other roommates had found out. Not hard when everyone changed in the same room and this little devil boy ran around invading pretty much everyone’s privacy. But Barty, who grew to be one of his best friends, had always been charming that way.
At some point, his parents got tired of trying to fix him.
They’d still marry him off to a man at some point, so he could have children to continue the Black’s line, but they wouldn’t force him into dresses anymore or get angry every time his name was mentioned.
Not that they addressed him as a boy—they didn’t—, but they grew tired when even the Hogwarts castle knew him as a man. The very few times they called him Regulus was when they wanted something. Some sort of emotional manipulation the boy always fell into, but it didn’t matter.
It was close to his fourth year, though, that Regulus started to feel as bad as he did younger. Most boys his age started to have facial hair and deeper voices, something Regulus never achieved.
It even made him feel his breast—already barely noticeable due to the way he bandaged it—was noticeable. One thing led to the other, and Regulus felt alone.
Especially because Sirius and he were also falling apart.
Since his brother got so close to his new friends, Regulus had slowly felt left behind. Plus, he started gaining ideas that went against everything they had grown to believe!
Being a Gryffindor is something Regulus had never resented him for.
Not until it was the only place to put the blame of his brother changing.
So he hated it. Hated that Sirius was one. Hated his Gryffindor friends, even if the taller one was nice and studied with him sometimes.
He hated what was changing Sirius, and in the end, that caused a fracture between them that time wasn’t able to fix.
Regulus hadn’t gone to Sirius about this. Or anyone.
Not for a year.
Not until his brother had left.
At the very start, it felt like betrayal. Close after, it felt like the solution. Because Sirius wasn’t happy here, and he was when he was away with his dumb friends.
So it was ok. But it hurt.
And distracting the pain, Regulus focused on other things.
He decided to focus on the impossible: becoming more of a man and going through puberty like others his age did. It was impossible, so it’d keep him and his head busy forever.
Except he found a potion in a book.
It wasn’t meant to make him grow a beard or lower his voice, exactly, but it was meant to alterate someone’s hormones.
It was meant as a joke, foolish potion to confuse your friends or annoy people you disliked.
Boys will grow small breast without knowing why and girl’s voice will drop two tones within time, no one knows why ! Perfect to leave that one annoying neighbour occupied for a while, it said. As he had read, Regulus found out it made the drinker’s body produce the opposite hormones.
It was perfect.
So perfect it worked when he tried it. It wasn't immediate, but it happened.
After about six months, his voice had significantly changed, his body fat distribution had changed and, amongst some other things, some subtle facial hair had started to grow on his face.
It was thrilling, damn exciting.
And so it confused him when it came to shaving.
He had heard Barty mention once that it grew faster and stronger when you shaved it often.
Regulus wanted that, but he had no idea how to shave.
Evan hadn’t really grown facial hair yet. Mr Rosier wasn’t exactly a hairy guy either. Neither thought he’d ever grow a lot, if he did, so sadly, his friend had been as clueless as him.
Barty, on the other hand…
He could ask him—Evan had suggested it—, but it made Regulus feel nervous.
With Barty, the fact that he wasn’t a real boy was often ignored.
Evan was the one helping him bandage or helping him out whenever. Barty was ok with it, but they had never truly spoken about it. Not openly. It was a fact—Regulus had a girl’s body—they both knew.
A fact both decided to ignore most part of the time.
So Regulus didn’t really feel comfortable going to him about this. Not because he didn’t trust Barty or because he didn't love him, but because he was simply too uncomfortable with this matter to let someone into it.
So as much as things were currently… hard, Regulus saw a single option.
***
Sirius had been peacefully in his common room, chatting with his friends, when a younger year got close to mention there was a boy outside the tower looking for him.
Of all the people that could have been, Regulus was far from being the one he expected.
“...Reggie?”
It had been a bit since Sirius started to ignore his existence. Not because he hated Regulus—all the opposite—but the boy himself avoided him. Plus, it was lately that his brother had been slowly becoming what their parents wanted him to be.
It sickened him. To see what his brother was turning into.
That’s why he didn’t even look back when he left, even if Sirius now regretted it.
Regulus would not have gone with him either way, so things didn’t change a lot either.
However, as Sirius had been trying to ignore him lately—it was easier to keep an older idea of his brother alive rather than the current one—, he had not noticed until now the faint stubble.
Something inside him felt extremely proud and happy.
Even before understanding what his brother meant when he said he was a boy, Sirius had been happy to see him evolve and progress through it. After understanding, this feeling intensified, and whether they were in better or worse terms, a hot warmth settled in his chest.
“I need you to show me how to shave,” his brother said simply, almost coldly, as if they were strangers.
That coldness toned down the warmth he’d been feeling, but Sirius swallowed past it.
“Couldn’t Crouch have helped you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“If you won’t help, I’m walking away already. Won’t stay longer than necessary.”
Right, ouch. Fuck. It was damned hard, the way his brother and he had grown to be, but Sirius just frowned and nodded.
“Whatever. Follow me, we’re going to the bathroom.” The man could feel how Regulus doubted before following him inside the tower, as if he were going to be cut off from the will for having set foot into such a house’s tower.
It angered him, but Sirius said nothing, leading his brother through the common room to the bathrooms, glancing silently at his friends so they wouldn’t follow or say anything about it.
“Alright, so, what do you know about shaving?” Sirius asked, leaning on the door as he stared at Regulus and raised an eyebrow.
The boy rolled his eyes, almost annoyed. He knew it wasn’t real, that he wasn’t acting like this out of pure hatred, but it hurt either way.
“If I knew something, I’d have figured out myself instead of coming here.”
“Alright then, Come over the sink, then. I’ll show you—wouldn’t do me bad shaving now, either way.”
Regulus didn’t respond, and Sirius didn’t look at him, but the man could feel his brother’s eyes stuck on him.
“Nothing too hard. You get the cream,” he explained, putting it on his face as collectedly as he could to give a proper demonstration. “And then use the razor to shave.”
“You’ve put cream in places that hadn’t yet grown hair.”
“Yeah, you usually do that. You shave all of it, whether hair’s grown there yet or not.”
The boy hummed, merely staring as Sirius did a demonstration. Usually he was a bit more quick and not as careful, but this was something worth taking time for. After all, for one reason or another, Regulus had come to him about this.
Regulus had come to his older brother, as he always did when they were kids, and that made Sirius feel damn special again. It made him feel as if whatever was going between them, maybe, could be fixed.
Once done, he washed his face with warm water, carefully passed a wet towel over his face and put on some balm to soothe his skin.
His brother hadn’t said a lot through it. Not a word, to be precise, but he stared so focused and quietly he had even seemed to forget his frown.
Sirius moved from the sink then, offering the shaving cream to his brother. “Want to try?”
A second passed.
Two.
And then Regulus picked it up, looking at his reflection—something Sirius was incredibly proud of—and applying the cream.
Certainly, that had been a bit too past what was needed, but the more the merrier. Right? It wouldn’t do bad.
However, the second his brother lifted the razor to his face, Regulus moved to start shaving upwards.
“Oh my god, are you stupid?? You don’t shave against the grain, idiot!” He spoke almost offended, as if shaving wrong was far too personal, moving to take the razor from his brother’s hand and make the proper movement again. “Were you even watching me??”
“How am I supposed to know you don’t shave upwards? You explained nothing.”
“Because you were supposed to be looking at me! Here, take this again, and do it properly,” the older one huffed, placing himself behind his brother, hand hovering over Regulus’s.
“Up to down, and don’t press too hard or you’ll cut yourself.”
Sirius finally looked back at the mirror again, noticing his brother’s eyes fixed on him, listening patiently as he spoke.
His expression was calm and soft, unlike the tone he had used for his voice. It was moving, honestly.
Regulus started again, his hand always followed by Sirius’s, who planned to avoid any mess-up.
For a few seconds, things actually went well.
The razor glided down his cheek, taking away the faint stubble hidden beneath the cream. Regulus watched every movement with absurd concentration, tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as if this were a particularly difficult potion.
"There," Sirius said. "See? Not hard."
"It is when no one ever teaches you."
Sirius opened his mouth, then shut it again.
Fair. "Keep going."
Regulus did. One side of his face was nearly done when he frowned at his reflection.
"What?"
"It's uneven."
"That's because you've only shaved one side, genius."
"No, I mean—"
Before Sirius could stop him, Regulus tilted his chin up and twisted his face sideways, trying to inspect the other cheek from a different angle.
With the razor still pressed against his skin.
"Oh, for—"
The razor slipped.
"Ow!"
A tiny red line appeared along his jaw and Sirius groaned so dramatically it echoed through the bathroom. "I literally told you not to move."
"It barely hurt."
"That is not the point."
"It's a scratch."
"You managed to cut yourself in under three minutes."
Regulus looked offended.
"I managed to cut myself after almost succeeding."
"That isn't better."
"It is."
"It really isn't."
Despite himself, Sirius was fighting a smile. Regulus, instead was glaring at the mirror as if the injury were personally insulting him.
"It's tiny," the younger boy muttered.
"Yeah, because Merlin took pity on you."
Sirius reached over, grabbing a towel and pressing it briefly against the cut.
"There. Hold it."
Regulus obeyed with a sigh.
The silence that followed felt different from the awkwardness outside the bathroom. Comfortable and familiar, like years ago.
Like before everything became complicated.
When Sirius finally stepped back, the bleeding had already stopped.
"Right. Try again."
This time he was slower and careful.
By the end, only a few traces of cream remained on his face.
Sirius handed him the towel.
"Warm water first."
Regulus copied him exactly, washing away the leftover cream before drying his face.
Then he stared at his reflection.
For a long moment.
Sirius didn't interrupt.
He remembered a younger Regulus who could barely stand looking into mirrors. A younger Regulus who would angle his face away from reflective surfaces whenever possible.
Now he was looking directly at himself.
Examining rather than hiding or flinching.
The expression on his face softened.
"...Looks better."
Something squeezed painfully in Sirius's chest.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "It does."
Regulus touched his jaw.
The stubble had only been barely noticeable to begin with, but the pride on his face made it seem far more significant.
Then, as if realizing he'd revealed too much, his features shuttered again.
The walls went back up.
"Thanks." The word sounded awkward. Like he wasn't used to saying it to Sirius anymore.
Sirius hated that.
"You're welcome."
Regulus nodded once.
Then twice.
As if unsure what came next.
Years ago, the answer would've been obvious. He would've lingered.
Now he simply stood there, ready to leave.
Sirius swallowed.
"If it grows back weird, don't blame me."
Regulus snorted unexpectedly. A real laugh threatened to appear before he suppressed it.
"I'll blame your terrible teaching."
"My teaching was excellent."
"You called me stupid."
"You tried to shave upwards."
"A minor detail."
"A life-threatening mistake."
"It wasn't."
"It was to me."
For the first time since arriving, Regulus smiled properly.
It had been something small and brief, barely visible, but real.
The sight nearly knocked the breath out of Sirius.
Then, just as quickly, Regulus looked away.
"I should go."
"Yeah."
Neither moved immediately, and neither seemed particularly happy about it.
Eventually Regulus set the razor down.
"Bye, Sirius."
Not Siri or brother. Not anything warm.
But not cold, either. Just… honest.
"Hey, Reg?"
His brother paused, and Sirius hesitated only a second.
"If you need help with anything else..."
Regulus looked back.
"...I know."
“You’re growing into a little man.”
Something in his brother’s face shifted, almost painful, and then he left.
Sirius was left standing there, thinking that maybe, things were broken but not unfixable. This encounter hadn’t been bad. Quite the opposite, in fact.
And after all, Regulus is the one that came looking for him.
