Chapter Text
Regulus is cold, hungry and deeply annoyed. All of this, combined with his feeble eleven-year-old mind after a day full of classes and avoiding Mulciber and his bunch, means Regulus is close to tears and rushing through Hogwarts’ halls, struggling to find his way back to the dungeons in time for curfew.
There's very few people up at this hour – prefects haven’t started their rounds yet, and for some reason most Gryffindors and Ravenclaws passing by look at Regulus weirdly, and he definitely doesn’t feel safe. He had taken a wrong turn after visiting Madam Pomfrey for something agaist the flu Barty had shared with their whole dorm, then he forgot which way he had come and before he knew it, the stairs had moved and now he could barely recognize where he’d ended up.
At first, Regulus had made the foolish choice – he tried to find his way to the Gryffindor or Ravenclaw towers, to hopefully get either Sirius or Pandora to help him back. Unfortunately, he realized too late that, in his haste, he somehow missed both staircases, instead climbing one that led him to a very secluded part of the castle.
Stopping to catch his breath, Regulus tries in vain to hear the pounding of the Great Clock. He stands still as a statue for half a minute before-
DING
DONG
DING
DONG
DING-
Shit. He was right, it’s eleven right now – which means curfew has officially started.
And unfortunately, with his current luck, Regulus is probably stuck on the other side of the castle.
Taking a deep breath breath between his ragged ones, the boy examines his surroundings, large cloak trailing after him. He’s in some sort of corridor, but he can’t remember for the life of him what it might be named. The staircase he climbed a few minutes ago has already turned around and he isn’t sure when it might return and he’s alone and he didn’t get dinner in time and-
Deep breaths, Reggie! It's alright!
The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like Sirius, which brings a pang to his chest but also makes his legs stop shaking enough to trudge forward.
There's a set of rickety staircase ahead – he steps slowly, listening for sounds every couple of seconds, the beat of his heart drowning everything else.
When he reaeches the top, he pushes the door and-
It's the astronomy tower.
Oh, for goodness’ sake!
Regulus could cry – no, he probably will. The bloody tower is ages away from the dungeons, and – as Evan told him earlier – always patrolled at least once or twice through the night.
He steps deeper into the room, watching the sky and pulling his cloak closer against himself to stave off the cold. A shiver runs through him anyway, but before he can do anything about it there’s a tear slipping down his cheek.
And then another.
And another.
By the time he makes it to the bannister, Regulus knows he’s hiccuping, his lower lip is trembling and there’s tear streaks dragging down his cheeks.
He's so tired. He's had the worst week possible – getting sorted into what Sirius called “the wrong house” on Monday, being late to class on Tuesday because Barty broke his alarm clock, losing two points on Wednesday because he forgot to do some summer reading (although he’s just in his first year!), being ignored by Sirius on Thursday and now, on Friday, he’s lost and tired and really hungry and really cold, and he’ll probably get detention if a prefect finds him and maman and papa will be so, so disappointed and-
Before Regulus knows it, he’s sitting down by the bannister, sobbing and rubbing his knuckles into his eyes in a fruitless attempt at stopping the tears. He hasn’t really cried in a long time – since Sirius first left, most likely.
Though he got hurt and beaten a few times and ridiculed more than once as a kid by Bella’s boyfriend and his gaggle of friends for being so little and “girly”, he never cried about that. That would make him a crybaby, and Regulus is not that! He's very strong and- and very... and...
Leaning his head against the cool metal, he closes his eyes and wonders if he could fall asleep here until a prefect eventually drops by and maybe helps him get back to his room. It would be entirely humiliating, but who knows? He might have the rare luck of a Hufflepuff finding him and not asking any questions-
He's interrupted when there’s a sound behind him. Turning around quickly, Regulus wipes his eyes with his sleeve, focused on finding the source.
There's nothing, but-
The door is open.
Regulus had not left the door open.
He feels another shiver down his back, but now he recognizes it – fear. Bone deep fear.
It has to be the ghosts, right? ...right?
Clearing his voice, he calls out.
“Hello? Is there- is there anybody there?”
Regulus ignores the crack in his voice and his raspy tone, frantically looking around and feeling for his wand in its holster, at his hip. He doesn’t know any protection spells but maybe it’d be intimidating enough? What if-
Before he has the time to panic, he hears it again – a rickety sound, much closer than earlier.
All thoughts flying out the window, Regulus does what he’s always been best at – hiding. He yelps, pulling his cloak over his head and squeezing his eyes shut.
This is a dream, this is a dream, this is-
“Baby Black?”
Suddenly, Regulus opens his eyes. He knows that voice, it’s the same from the express, the one inviting him in one of the Gryffindor carts.
Pulling his hood down, he’s met with the smiling face of one James Potter.
Oh, for goodness’ safe!
“Potter, what is wrong with you?!” he whisper-yells, watching as the other boy sits down beside him, smirk still plastered on his face, though it’s a bit worried now.
“Well, that’s a rather vague question, Reggie. Surely you must know I need a few clarifications, right?” he teases, reaching out with a hand and knuckling at Regulus’ head.
That makes the younger buy squawk in indignation, grabbing James’ hand and pushing it away.
“Leave me alone!” he exclaims, all pretense of quiet forgotten.
James shrugs, dropping his hand. Regulus scoots a bit further, but when he raises his eyes again, James is still watching, though no longer with a smile. His glasses are a bit askew, his mad hair is sticking up oddly and the freckles across his dark skin seem to glow a bit in the dark.
“Are you sure you want that? You seemed pretty lonely up here, if I’m one to judge.” James replies, leaning back on his hands and watching the sky, eyes flitting from the stars to Regulus.
See, that’s another reason Regulus absolutely despises James Potter – always so caring, so willing to help and always so bright like the bloody sun rises out of his arse.
He tells him as much, and the bastard has the audacity to laugh.
“Alright, alright, I’ll leave you be, then. See you around, Baby Black-” James begins, using his arms to prop himself up and launch to his feet.
“Wait!” Regulus exclaims, almost against his will.
James stops in his tracks, an unsurprised look on his face.
“Yes?”
Regulus chews his cheek, looking away.
James is exactly everything Regulus should be – kind, a bit funny and reckless, just like Sirius. Unfortunately though, when met with someone much more apt for the role than him, his brother decided Regulus was not longer worth being kept around, if the past week is anything to go by.
James has taken his place already, before Regulus even got the time to fill it. The last thing he wants to do is accept he needs James’ help now.
And that thought alone, of asking James to take him to Sirius, is admitting defeat. It's admitting that, unlike Sirius, Regulus still wants his brother. Evan is nice, his sister Pandora has been nothing but kind and Barty is a bit dramatic but sometimes fun, and yet none of them are his brother.
So, when he meets James’ eyes, he gives him a steely look.
“Nothing. Sorry for taking your time.”
He turns back to the bannister, staring out at the stars. His heart is beating too fast in his chest for any constellation tor register, though.
When he turns back around after a minute, there’s no one there.
Good.
Regulus is alone. Just like he’s supposed to be, now that even his brother can’t stand his presence.
Maybe in another life he’s more open. Maybe in another life Potter tries a bit harder and gets the brothers together. Maybe in another life Sirius schools his heartbroken expression at the Sorting before Regulus catches it and starts feeling guilty.
Maybe-
“Reggie?”
Regulus’ head snaps to the door behind him.
He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting still, but his back cracks and his arse is cold when he shifts. He's even hungrier, his eyes feel puffy and-
Sirius is standing in the doorway, a large wool sweater thrown over a white tee and some pyjama bottoms, face scrunched up in worry.
“Merlin’s tits, James was right-”
“Did Potter sent you?” Regulus interrupts, wiping angrily at his face to hide any remnants of tears, hating how he sounds so frail.
Sirius rolls his eyes and approaches quickly, crouching down and taking Regulus’ hands in his own, frowning at the cool feeling.
“Why- How are you so cold? For how long have you been up here?” he asks, ignoring Regulus’ question entirely.
Regulus is tempted to ignore him, but it might be the chill finally reaching his brain that prompts the truth to jump out.
“Since eleven, I think-”
“Eleven?” Sirius interrupts, incredulous “Gosh Reggie, it’s past midnight, what were you thinking?”
In a swift motion, he takes off his sweater and unbuttons Reggie’s cloak. He forces his brother into it and (although Regulus grumbles about it), when he’s enveloped in an extra layer underneath his cloak, Regulus can’t help but admire the warmth in his chest.
“It’s really late, you’re coming to my dorm, thank Merlin none of the prefects found you out this late-” Sirius begins, grabbing Regulus’ hand and helping him up.
“Why are you doing this? Don’t you hate me now?” Regulus interrupts, voice cracking midway.
Both brothers stop, Regulus’ head angled down to not see Sirius’ expression. He doesn’t know if he could handle it – the disappointment, the upset, the sadness and the anger and-
“Reggie, have you gone bonkers?”
Snapping his head up, the only emotion written plainly on Sirius’ face is incredulity, with subtle hints of confusion and hurt.
“Why would I hate you?” he continues, twisting the knife into the wound.
“You’ve been avoiding me all week!” Regulus finally bursts, snatching his hand away from Sirius’ and bundling himself up in his own arms “and you could barely look me in the eyes at the Sorting! I felt horrible! You made me feel horrible!”
Guilt immediately washes over Sirius’ expression, turning the lack of understanding from before into a deep well of sadness.
“I’m sorry Reggie, I just...” he fidgets with the edge of his tee, shivering when a gust of chilly air flies through the tower “I don’t know how to act around you anymore. You're still my brother, but you’re in the same house that all my friends despise and- and we were planning so many things! I talked to the other boys and we would’ve given you the spare bed in our room, and-”
“Sirius!” Regulus interrupts.
They stare at each other for a minute and, oddly enough, Regulus could cry again. Why can’t Sirius understand?
“I don’t want your dorm, and I don’t want your friends. I don’t care about Gryffindor or Slytherin or rivalries and-” he gulps and watches his brother’s eyes “I just want you.”
His voice wavers on the last word as his lip trembles, and suddenly Sirius step forward, arms wrapped around his baby brother.
“I’m so, so, so sorry, Reggie” he says, voice muffled by his brother’s hair “I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with me now that you’re in Slytherin.”
“No.” Regulus says, tightening his hold “I still want sleepovers and I still want you to help me with homework and-”
His voice is interrupted by a yawn, and Sirius laughs wetly from above.
“C’mon Reggie, I know this is important but you really need sleep, don’t you?”
Regulus tries leaning back and pinning Sirius with a glare, but his brother only laughs. The prick.
Hand in hand with his brother and burrowed under mountains of layers, Regulus doesn’t feel so lost on the short walk between the astronomy tower and the Gryffindor one anymore.
When they enter the common room, it’s blissfully empty, and Sirius’ dormmates seem asleep – Regulus recognizes Peter Pettigrew from some functions when they were younger, and there’s another face (probably that Lupin boy Sirius gushed about in his letters) he has only seen around but has never interactioned with.
And then, of course, laying down on his bed and playing with some cards is none other than James Potter, now clad in jammies and looking rather smug as Regulus enters and Sirius sends him to go shower.
Neither of the older boys say anything until Regulus enters the bathroom, holding some of Sirius’ spare pyjamas under his arm and a towel to dry off. As the water hits him, Regulus can hear far off voices from the room – Sirius and Potter discussing him, probably.
By the time he’s out, each boy is sprawled on his own bed, Sirius having left a bout half of his empty in order to make room for Regulus.
He burrows under the covers facing his brother and Sirius mirrors him, Potter sending a charm and closing the lights, but not before sending a wink Regulus’ way.
Regulus rolls his eyes and scoffs, though he isn’t sure why his face is a little warmer. He hopes he hasn’t caught another cold.
“Hey, Reggie?” Sirius whispers after pulling the curtains closed and wrapping himself in a blanket, face obstructed by the darkness and eyes shining through.
“Yes?”
“Are we alright?”
Regulus takes a moment to respond.
“No, I think not.” he says, watching Sirius deflate visibly.
“I’m sorry-”
“But this doesn’t mean we won’t be” Regulus continues, stifling a yawn “I want... no, I expect more sleepovers, got it?”
With a smile pulling at his lips, Sirius nods.
“Got it, Reggie.”