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Chapter Text

Regulus Black was running through possibilities for gruesome, painful, drawn out methods of ending his so called, “friends” lives. The scowl on his face and the furrow between his eyebrows deepened as Barty and Evan fell to the ground, cackling and clutching their stomachs, unable to catch a breath due to their hysterics. Pandora and Dorcas were sat on Evan’s empty four poster in the dorm, wiping at their eyes, brushing away the tears that appeared when they first started laughing, which was probably only five minutes ago but felt to Regulus like it had lasted hours. 

“I swear to Salazar, Merlin, and Morgana that if you fuckers don’t stop laughing, I will slice your throats open in your sleep. It’ll happen when you least expect it. You won’t ever be able to lull yourself into a sense of comfort, knowing that I sleep one bed away, you will never know peace.” Regulus got progressively louder as he threatened his roommates and he felt the heat of embarrassment rushing up his neck, coloring his face with what was undeniably a very distasteful shade of red. 

“Oh my little Prince, you did this to yourself. Maybe this will teach you to listen to me when I try to advise you against accepting foolish bets with Barty and Evan.” Pandora sighed airily. Her eyes were large and innocent as ever, but a twinkle of mirth was easily visible if you knew what to look for, and Regulus knew what to look for. 

He rolled his eyes before he stuck his bottom lip out in his best pout and widened his big grey eyes, adopting the sad puppy expression he learned from years of observing his older brother. 

Barty and Evan finally calmed, leaning on each other as they caught their breaths. When Barty looked up, he made eye contact with Regulus and immediately clocked the manipulation tactic that his best friend was employing. He forced down the affection that bubbled up whenever he saw Reggie looking like an innocent and beautiful cherub, like the kid he never got to be, “No. No. No. A bet is a bet Regulus Arcturus Black! Do not think that you can pout your way out of this. I’m officially immune to that face. Besides, I think the outcome of this one is going to be incredibly beneficial to us all.” Barty finished with an exaggerated waggle of his brows, the piercing of his right eyebrow brushing against his green dyed fringe. 

Nodding emphatically, Evan taunted, “Reggie, darling ,” drawing out the first syllable in a nasal tone, reminiscent of a disingenuous Walburga Black, “It would be an absolute crime worthy of a life sentence in Azkaban…”

“Nay! A Dementor’s kiss,” Interjected a dramatic Barty.

“A dementor’s kiss, indeed, my most esteemed Bartemius.” Evan turned back to Reggie, clutching at his heart with a fake expression of pain, continued, “Denying the public the opportunity to witness the absolute magnificence that is, what one might describe as, the sluttiest, most delectable little waist.”

“Oh thou doth minimize the matter at hand, Lord Rosier.” Barty hopped onto his bed and knelt on the mattress, hands extended out towards the young Black in a facsimile of supplication, “the beauty and wonder that our lovely Prince possesses is beyond magnificence for it is mouth-watering, heart racing, erection maki..”

“OKAY!” Regulus stood up from his seat on his bed and lunged forward to flick Barty right between his eyes with all of the strength and anger of a truly unhinged member of the House of Black. Barty yelped and flopped back awkwardly until he was all long limbs toppling over landing on the ground with a heavy thump . “That is more than enough out of you both. You’re giving me a headache and I cannot possibly be expected to think up grotesquely creative torture and murder methods under such conditions.”

A guffaw was smothered as an annoyed looking Evan shoved a pillow over Barty’s face before he could further infuriate their unhinged, violent best friend. 

“Ugh, fine. A deal is a deal but I swear to Salazar that the events of this week are never to be brought up again in public or in private. Merlin knows that the empty headed numpties of this institution will make enough crass comments to drive me to committing crimes or throwing myself off the astronomy tower..” Shaking out his jet black curls, Regulus puffed out a heavy sigh, the strands above his eyes fluttering with the movement. “No matter, I will hex and obliviate them if necessary.” He declared with finality, raising his chin, adopting the haughty air he learned from his terrible mother. 

Dorcas giggled quietly and said, “Sometimes I forget how truly dramatic you can be. You’re worse than your brother!” This observation elicited an inelegant squeak of indignation from the pouty boy and further giggles from the others. 

~  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ~ 

With a stretch of pale, sinewy limbs, and a soft sigh, Regulus relished the blissful moment of peace. For all of thirty seconds before his brain stuttered awake and he remembered what was promised for the day ahead. “Fuck me” he mumbled as he tossed his blankets to the side and pulled open the emerald curtains around his bed. 

“Name the time and place, sweetcheeks,” the rough morning voice of a groggy Barty came from the direction of Evan’s bed. As the curtains slid open, Barty winked, Regulus flipped him off, and Evan grunted in a succession of their daily greetings. Reggie watched Evan prop himself up on his elbows to rest his chin over Barty’s shoulder, nuzzling into his neck with a contented sigh. Barty’s smile was soft and tender, something private for him and his lover, and a presently unwitting Regulus. 

As his gaze flicked up towards his friend, Barty winked and beckoned him over with a curled finger and lust clouded eyes. This was something that had existed for the three Slytherins since they learned what it meant to want. 

Towards the end of their fourth year, a tipsy Barty and Regulus fell into each other for the first time. The trust and love they had for each other as friends translated to a surprisingly comfortable and incredibly horny first relationship. At the time, Evan was dating a Ravenclaw girl named Emmeline Vance in their same year. A few months into Barty and Regulus’s relationship, Evan and Emmeline had a very messy public break up and the boyfriends banded close to their newly single friend and showered him in reassurance and love. 

What the two dark haired boys did not know was that their blonde friend had been dumped after Evan muttered Barty and Regulus’s names with a quiet moan while he slept beside his ex. 

The weekend after the breakup, the trio of snakes attended a party in Ravenclaw where the raucous environment, free-flowing booze, and assorted potions and muggle drugs alike lead to a shift in their dynamic. Regulus and Barty were on the dancefloor pressed tight together. Regulus swayed his hips with purpose as Barty grinded his pelvis against the rounded muscle of Reggie’s arse. Reggie leaned his head back on Barty’s shoulder and Barty flashed him a wolfish grin before leaning forward and flicking his tongue out to meet Regulus’s in a lewd kiss. 

Evan watched as Barty’s long pale fingers tightened their hold around Regulus’s waist and his other hand reached down between them, likely kneading the plump meat of Reggie’s tight little bum. 

Evan felt himself hardening, a slightly uncomfortable tightness forming in his tight dark jeans. He grabbed a shot glass from a floating tray and quickly tossed it back, allowing the harsh heat of the firewhiskey to propel him forward with a false confidence. His hands were twitching with the intensity of his desire. He longed to grip the bony jut of Reggie’s hip, to run his fingers through Barty’s messy brown locks, to yank them hard and bite into the skin at the nape of his neck and taste the inside of Reggie’s mouth. He longed and longed and suddenly he was under the shifting blue strobe lights, bodies pressed against him on the dancefloor as he pushed through the uncomfortable heat of air thickened the sweat. He was struggling to find his friends as hands reached out and eyes sparked with interest around him. 

He craned his neck and swiveled his head around to look for the familiar messy brown locks and purposefully ruffled black curls when he found what he was looking for. Stormy grey eyes, hooded with desire pulled him in and the challenge proposed by a quirked up eyebrow drove his body closer. He reached out his arms and wound one around Regulus’s hip, delighting in the warmth where bare skin slid along bare skin, luxuriating in the sweat that glistened off of the dark haired boy, his mouth dry with the need to know the taste of his sweat, to lick a stripe across his porcelain skin. He reached his other hand up and gripped harshly at the back of Barty’s neck and pulled him closer. 

And so, it was the three of them pressed tightly together, grinding pelvises and swaying hips and hot, heavy breaths. Regulus was sandwiched between the two taller boys and Evan noticed as Regulus’s breath caught when he shifted closer and their fronts brushed against each other. Reggie’s pupils widened and his gaze darkened as he leaned back on Barty to look at Evan. His pink tongue poked out and grazed his bottom lip and Evan’s eyes followed the movement with reverence. He was brought out of his trance by the unforgiving grip of Barty’s hand tugging on Evan’s jaw to get his attention. He didn’t let go as his eyes flicked down to Evan’s lips and then turned his face  to share a meaningful look with his shorter boyfriend. Within the span of a breath, Barty was guiding Evan’s face down and Regulus was tipping up, wrapping his arms around Evan’s neck as their lips met in a hungry kiss. They moved their lips together roughly, Evan’s nails dug into the skin of Regulus’s hip, he hoped it would leave a mark, he hoped to imprint this moment on his friend’s body, to root itself in his mind. Evan moved his hand down to grab a handful of arse, squeezing tight, earning him a gasp that he took as an invitation to brush his tongue against the other boy’s, basking in the warmth of his wet mouth and greedy tongue. Licking into each other's mouths, exploring every nook and cranny with determination, until Evan captured Reggie’s tongue, bit it lightly, and sucked it into his mouth. A whimper escaped Regulus and Evan groaned at the sweet sound that he had longed to elicit. Suddenly, he was harshly shoved off of the smaller boy, but, before he could whine at the loss, another mouth was on his. This one tasted of cigarettes and firewhiskey and the tongue that licked its way into his mouth was demanding as the two fought for dominance, pulling on fistfuls of hair until both boys were grunting and growling like untamed animals. 

Evan felt the featherlight touch of a small, soft hand along his jaw and he pulled away to look at the two beautiful boys in front of him. They had kiss bruised lips and hooded eyes, their chests rising and falling as they panted. Without a word spoken, Barty grabbed Regulus’s hand to his right and Evan’s hand to his left and guided them confidently out of the Ravenclaw common room and quietly through the empty halls until they entered the Slytherin dungeons where they were ushered hastily to their dorm. 

As the door clicked shut behind them the three boys stood facing each other, breathing heavily, questions lingering in the air now that they had taken a moment to collect themselves and the urgency of the party and the drugs and the alcohol lessened, replaced with the oppressive weight of the unknown that hung above them like a storm cloud.

“I- I… fuck.” Evan muttered as he dragged his hand down his face in frustration.

“It’s okay, Ev. You don’t need to find the words. How about I tell you what I’m thinking and you can just say yes or no?” Reggie’s voice was calming and he spoke with a softness that he didn’t allow others to witness often, if at all. 

Evan nodded and looked into Regulus’s eyes, searching for something in his gaze as he spoke again, “Obviously, Barty and I are together and have been for a few months now.” Evan’s shoulders tensed as he prepared to be rebuffed and disappointed. Deep grey eyes flashing in understanding, Regulus stepped forward to reassuringly cup Evan’s jaw in his hand, “-- But Barty and I, we aren’t Barty and I without you . We didn’t think you would be interested but hoped someday this would be possible. I want you. Barty wants you. And I think, maybe, you might want us too?” His voice quietened as he cautiously asked the burning question.

“I do. So bad, I- I do.” Evan breathed out. “But– but what does this mean? What happens next? We all hookup and you both go back to being a couple? I don’t know if I can do that, Reg.”

He must have been frowning because Regulus raised his other hand to smooth his thumb over the older boy’s brows. 

“I don’t know, Ev. I know that I want you, and I want Barty. M-maybe we can, we can just be Evan, Barty and Regulus but with added benefits? Maybe we can still be best friends with room to explore new aspects of our friendship as a trio, in duos, I don’t know. We can be what we always have been but, hopefully, you and Barty will fuck me whenever you please, alone or together, I’ll take you anyway I can have you. What say you, B?”

“I agree. I love you guys, don’t roll your eyes Regulus, and being your friend is the most important thing to me. If we were lesser men, Gryffindorks or Puffs, I would be worried about risking our friendship. Since we aren’t whiny little dorks with shit for brains, I’m confident in our ability to keep our friendship intact while we work out these frustrations. Honestly, this– us– it feels right and I just know it’ll feel even better when we get you stripped naked for us, Rosy. I’m gagging to see what you have hiding in those tight pants of yours. And I’m dying to see Regulus choking on you, his pretty plump lips wrapped tight around you as you fuck hard into his mouth.” Barty’s eyes darted between the other two boys as he bit his bottom lip hard and let out a deep groan, “Actually, I will definitely die if I don’t see that soon, so Reggie, be a doll and get on the floor. Hands clasped together behind your back, you know the drill, baby.” At the commanding tone, Regulus did as told and they spent that night exploring and unraveling each other until exhaustion brought on bouts sleep that were interrupted by more sleepy fucking and dirty words throughout the late night and early morning. 

When they woke up the next day, they shared soft kisses and were quickly reassured by the lack of awkwardness and hesitation. Things felt the same, a lot more naked, but the same nonetheless. When Barty stretched and set his feet on the ground, the sheet tangling up between his feet, he proceeded to topple over with a very undignified high pitched squawk. Regulus and Evan gripped each other’s arms as they laughed themselves to tears. When Barty righted himself, they noticed blood trickling from his nose that Barty swiped at with incredulity, all three boys broke out into giggles and everything that followed felt like the organic evolution of their friendship. Over the years, they continued hooking up and taking what they needed from each other. 

Things shifted again when Barty and Evan developed strong feelings and Regulus didn’t. Reggie loved them, as always, but he wasn’t in love with them. He trusted them and was comfortable with them, and their sex was fucking amazing, but that was all it was for him. Soon, the dynamics changed again– Barty and Evan started sleeping together as a couple more often and spent most nights wrapped around each other in one of their beds. They held hands as they traversed the halls between classes and were always seen looking at each other with hearts in their eyes. 

When the mood struck, there was always room for Regulus to join, but he was strict about limiting displays of affection to those private moments of intimacy. 

With a put upon resigned sigh, Regulus rose from his bed and climbed onto Barty's lap, he looked up at Barty and flicked his gaze over to Evan before tilting his head down so that he could flutter his long lashes and pout prettily, hoping that they would take pity on him and release him from the terms of their bet.   

Evan let out a low deep chuckle and shook his head fondly, he leaned further over Barty's shoulder to press a sweet lingering kiss at the corner of Reggie's lips. Barty lifted a hand to sweep through the soft black curls and traveled hungrily down Regulus's cheeks ending at his pretty pink mouth where he used his thumb to pull the pouty bottom lip down, lightly pushing past slightly parted lips, his gaze dark with want. 

"Ouch, fuck you little demon kitten." Instead of licking his thumb and sucking it into his mouth like Barty intended for him to do, Regulus bit down hard and smiled cheekily as Barty yanked his hand back and shook it out before growling and wrapping his other hand around Regulus's throat tightly. 

With a squeeze, Reggie's breath hitched and Barty smirked down at him with a glint in his eye as he took in his submissive prey. He turned to Evan and, voice rough, said, "What should we do about this brat? He woke up with an attitude and I, for one, won’t let this kind of behaviour go unpunished." He clucked his tongue and Regulus felt warmth gathering in his lower stomach, spreading down further until his pants felt wet with anticipation. 

Evan tutted and moved to grip Reggie's jaw, the harsh hold of his strong calloused fingers sparking a more desperate want as Regulus squirmed in Barty's lap, breathing raggedly, savoring the feel of both their hands claiming him, possessing him. 

"Well, B, I think we need to remind our bratty baby who's in charge here. Someone’s forgetting his place and I know just what he needs." Evan looked to Barty, crystalline blue eyes meeting deep brown, and together, they slowly turned and flashed wolfish grins that promised pain and pleasure at the youngest of the three who was biting his lip hard trying to hold back the intense need to beg. He wouldn't beg. Not this time. 

After a few minutes of teasing and smacking and gripping and licking, the stubborn boy broke and begged and begged and begged with tears in his eyes and drool dripping out the corners of his mouth. He begged to be used, opened up, fucked. And if he only lasted about 15 minutes before breaking, well, that was nobody's business but his own– and the two gorgeous doms that bit and licked and thrust deep and hard, drawing shattering orgasms and voice cracking screams of satisfaction out of him. 

Could anyone really blame him for swallowing his pride when he had two beautiful, talented men willing to dominate him?

Chapter Text

If there was one thing that people knew for a fact about James Potter, it was that he and Sirius Black were absurdly codependent (to the point of concern, according to Moony, but he’s always pointing unnecessary things out). When James met Sirius on the train as ickle first years, awkward little 11 year olds that never really had friends (well, Sirius had his sibling, but that’s not the same), they did not get along one bit. Yet, by the end of the journey, when the train stopped in Hogsmeade, he knew in his soul, with a certainty only an eleven year old could have, that the boy with the dark wavy hair and silver eyes would always be his best friend, his other half. 

James found an empty compartment towards the very back of the train car and wiped at the tears welling up in his eyes. He focused on a point at the top corner of the compartment and took deep, even breaths. 

The thing about James Potter is that he was truly a well loved & spoiled child. As the only child to Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, he never wanted for anything, really. His mum and dad loved him and gave him anything and everything he wanted. He was constantly showered in affection and never had to beg for attention. So, even though he was absolutely excited and buzzing with anticipation to meet new people and make his first friends at Hogwarts, in that moment, he was more sad about parting from his parents and worried of being too much, of scaring away potential friends. He swallowed down his tears and put on his best smile, but it didn’t last long until his lip was wobbling and tears were escaping his eyes. 

It was at that moment that the compartment door opened and a thin, haughty looking boy with wavy black hair stepped into James’s space with his chin held high and cold red rimmed eyes. He continued to look as the boy fidgeted with the lapels on his expensive suit and placed his trunk above the seat opposite James. Suddenly, the boy's head snapped up and he shot a menacing glare  (before this, James didn’t even think an 11 year old capable of such terrifying energy) and harshly bit out, “What do you think you’re looking at?” 

“N-nothing, sorry.” He quickly stuttered, before offering his hand to shake, “I’m James, James Potter.”

The boy’s gaze flicked down to the open palm and back up at James, his lip curling in apparent disgust, “I don’t believe I asked.” With that he turned his head to the side and proceeded to ignore him. 

The tense silence was finally cut when a tall, lanky boy with tawny hair slunk into the compartment, the three boys looked up at each other, and James (who was taught proper manners from his mum, thanks very much) cleared his throat and introduced himself, “Hi! I’m James Potter, what’s your name?” 

The boy placed his trunk above the seat and sat beside their cranky companion, his hair flopping over a lightly scarred face and kind amber eyes, “I’m Remus Lupin,” his voice was gentle and sounded different to any accent he’d heard before. 

“Well, Remus! What house do you think you’ll be sorted into? I’m going to be a Gryffindor of course, where dwell the brave of heart! Potters are always Gryffindors. Well, except my mum, actually, she was a Slytherin. I know what you’re thinking, you’ve probably heard all sorts of negative things about Slytherins but mum says that a few bad apples over the years tainted the house’s reputation and that we can’t judge an entire group of people based on rumors and stereotypes. I reckon she’s right, of course, because she is the kindest person ever. Honestly, it’s a wonder she wasn’t a Hufflepuff… Anyways, Dad says that even though he was wary of Slytherins when he came to Hogwarts, he saved his judgment about the snakes (you know, ‘don’t judge a book by it’s cover and all that jazz’) and he’s grateful he did because he never would have felt comfortable enough asking out my mum, says it was love at first sight but it took years for them to— oh, sorry. I… you probably don’t care about any of that. Sometimes when I’m nervous I just ramble and I’ve been told I need to give people room to breathe and respond, so. Okay, This is me shutting up.” He clamped his mouth shut and pinched his fingers together, sliding it across his lips, miming zipping his lips shut. 

To his credit, Remus did not say anything untoward, merely standing there blinking rapidly in confusion. 

“Wait, your mum was in Slytherin and your dad was in Gryffindor?” The posh boy spoke up, startling both boys, and, blessedly, allowing Remus the chance to sit without having to respond to all of… that.

James’s hackles rose expecting the unnamed boy to say something rude. “Yes,” he snapped, “Why? Got something to say about that?” 

He watched in awe as the boy’s sneer vanished and something a lot like hope flashed in his previously cold eyes. “I just… I didn’t realize Slytherins could get along with Gryffindors, is all.” He shuffled a bit in his seat and crossed his arms across his stomach. James opened his mouth to reply, when he continued in an almost whisper, “My whole family have always been Slytherin. My parents want me to be Slytherin but I don’t think I am? I think my little brother will be though, and I…” his face flushed in embarrassment, but in a moment summoned every ounce of courage as he said, “I was really scared that if we ended up in different houses… that our relationship would change. I— I don’t want that to happen. He’s the best person I know, he’s my baby brother…” he trailed off and sniffed, his eyes fixed on the spot of the floor he was scuffing nervously with his dragonhide boots.

The boy started retreating, trying to make himself smaller and James’s heart immediately softened. He was practically vibrating with the need to wrap the boy in his arms and offer him comfort.

He battled with his impulsivity for a second before he walked over and sat next to him, reaching out slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal, he tucked the boy into his chest and wrapped both arms around him tight. He felt the other tense and was nervous he would be punched in the face for this, but, before long he melted into the embrace and gripped James’s cloak in his hold.

Being the observant child that he was, Remus noted the signs that the boy he previously judged as merely a posh git was actually just a scared boy who, likely, never knew touch to be kind. As the two hugged, the boys suit shifted and Remus saw what looked like a painful bruise peeking out from under the collar, and understood even more about him, he silently vowed to himself that he would do what he could to provide that boy comfort because he knew what it was like to be scared and in pain due to something he had no ability to control or change. 

When the embrace ended, the boy, now with splotchy pink cheeks and wet eyes said, “I’m Sirius Black. It’s nice to meet you both.” 

He turned to Remus and offered a shy smile that Remus returned. “Well, Sirius. Whatever it’s worth, I have a feeling you’ll be in Gryffindor because your willingness to be vulnerable with strangers is one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen.” Remus stated, he watched as Sirius’s mouth fell open in wonder and his eyes glistened with new tears, “You’re brother will be proud of you for being yourself. I’m sure he knows you pretty damn well and likely already knew you wouldn’t be a Slytherin, and, if he’s as great as you’ve said, then he’ll be cheering you on from whatever House he ends up in.”

“Whoa. I was going to say that I didn’t think you were a snotty git anymore and offer my friendship, but how am I supposed to follow that?” James burst out. 

Sirius and Remus shared one more shy smile before turning to James, his glasses askew, hair standing up even higher in the back, sporting an intensely serious expression before they all burst out into giggles and raucous laughter. 

The tinkling of warm laughter could be heard drifting out of that last compartment all the way to Hogwarts. James felt something shift into place within him, he knew with undeniable clarity, that these were meant to be his people, his best friends.

So, yes, James Potter and Sirius Black had always been known as Jamespotterandsiriusblack, one name hardly ever spoken without the other, as the boys were practically fused together at the hip (Remus, the sweet swotty introvert, often needed space from their energy). 

Which is why, James felt like the worst friend in the world as he woke and immediately checked the map to see about a boy he couldn’t stop thinking about. A boy he was thoroughly obsessed with. A boy who just happened to be his best friend’s baby brother. 

The same baby brother that he adored above anything and everything else. The same baby brother that he was ridiculously protective about, practically scaring the shit out of any potential romantic suitors because, “nobody in this sodding school deserves my Reggie.” The same baby brother that he left at Grimmauld Place when he flooed half-dead into the Potter’s sitting room one late summer night, whimpering the same phrase, over and over, “My baby, not my baby.” The same baby brother that was now trying his hardest to avoid his brother, and, in turn, his brother’s friends. 

James had been taken with Regulus ever since their fourth year when he saw Reg step onto the train behind Sirius, with his hair newly cut to just below his ear, his black curls looking silky and shining brightly like a halo in the sunlight streaming in through the open door. When Regulus looked up and made eye contact with James, he felt his heart stop and his breath catch for the first time ever. When he came to again, Sirius was in his arms hugging him tight and dramatically exclaiming about their undying love for each other and James watched over his shoulder as Regulus rolled his eyes, huffed, and brushed past them to find his friends. He broke out of Sirius’s hold and stuttered a greeting,  “H-Hi Reg.” To his delight, and slight horror, Regulus turned, looked him in the eye again, elegantly raised an eyebrow, and walked away without a word. 

Since that day, James’s heart beat to the tune of reg- u- lus, reg- u- lus. He caught himself sneaking glances at the Slytherin table in the great hall, delighting in every laugh and smile he witnessed from a far, and seething with jealousy that he wasn’t the one eliciting such beautiful sounds and reactions from the beautiful boy. In classes, James tried to sit near him, but was often curtailed by an overly excited Sirius who either dragged James away from the Slytherins or bothered his brother so much that Regulus walked away and forced someone out of their chair with a single menacing look. Everytime James saw that look, the one that burned with intensity and simultaneously chilled people to the bone, he was forced to think about Snivellus’s ugly mug to stop all of the blood rushing straight down to his cock. 

He watched as the banner with Reggie’s name hovered above what James assumed was his bed in the Slytherin dorms and began to move to the bed where his two best friends were wedged practically on top of each other. The three names smooshed even closer and hovered on that bed until James heard the first signs of the other’s stirring. He pressed his wand to the map, muttered a quick “Mischief Managed”, and shoved it under his pillow before sliding out from his closed curtains, noting the drooping eyes and tangled hair of a very morning-averse Sirius Black. He shot a small smile at his friend, trying hard to not think about the other Black that was taking up most of his thoughts, and said “Mornin’ Pads.”

He received a grunt in return, as Sirius used his fists to rub harshly at his eyes. James heard the bathroom door click open, and Remus stepped out already dressed in uniform, ready for the day to begin despite the purple under-eye circles he was sporting. 

As was his routine, James left the tower and went for a quick run around the school, allowing his mind to calm to a quiet hum. By the time he made it back to the dorm, his friends were already gone, waiting for him to join them for breakfast. James took a quick shower, trying not to think about Regulus Black’s messy curls or his pretty pink lips or what those curls would look like fisted in his hands and those lips would look like wrapped around his—- no, no, he didn’t have time for that. He turned the shower to cold and thought about flobberworms, Snivellus, and bubotuber pus. 

☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀

“What took you so long Prongsie darling?” Sirius leaned his head on his shoulder dramatically before leaning up to press a wet kiss on his cheek. 

“Eugh, down boy,” muttered James as he grabbed Sirius’s arm to use his sleeve to wipe off his nasty spit. 

Pouting, Sirius said, “not a dog.” 

Which was met with a scoff from the other side of the table as Remus rolled his eyes at them.

“I’m thinking about buying you a leash and collar to keep you in check, Pads.”, he stated in a detached voice before turning to chat with Marlene and Lily, missing the splotches of bright red that coloured Sirius’s cheeks as he spluttered in shock, eyes practically glazed over, staring at Remus’s turned head. 

About to prod Sirius out of his trance, James was distracted by the sounds of loud gasps and wolf whistles, the great hall growing louder and louder as people whispered about something James could not see. The commotion startled Sirius, who suddenly spoke up, “What is everyone gossiping about?” With not an ounce of shame, Sirius hopped up and stood on the bench, craning his neck to catch sight of whatever had drawn everyone’s focus. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he shrieked a high pitched sound that had Remus snapping up to attention and James burning with curiosity. Before he could ask, Sirius was stumbling from his perch and lunging forward at a speed reminiscent of Padfoot. The two other Marauders jumped up and followed closely behind him, concerned about whatever startled such a dramatic response from the laziest of the marauders, the one who often complained that running was “undignified” unless it was to escape getting caught for playing pranks. 

“Are those HICKIES? What the fuck? Who did that, I’m going to kill—” Sirius began spluttering, “Wait, what is that? What are you wearing? Am I in hell? Is this hell? Please tell me I took a bad potion and I’m having a horrible hallucination. Merlin fuck, this better not be real or else I'll really have to commit a murder and I so don't have the constitution to survive a place like Azkaban.”  

After shouldering their way through the gathered crowd, James and Remus stopped short at the sight of Sirius holding his robes around Regulus’s squirming form. The two Gryffindors shared a look of confusion before they moved forward to calm down Padfoot (Remus) and save Regulus from being the center of any sort of public altercation (James). Before they could, Barty and Evan shoved them out of the doors into the hallway with mean scowls directed at Sirius. Setting off a quick distraction at the other end of the room in the form of exploding goblets and bursting geysers of pumpkin juice, James and Remus discreetly followed after their friend, allowing the large heavy doors to close behind them. 

James felt his heart stop, he literally felt his soul exit his body for a second when his eyes landed on the scene in front of him. His eyes widened, his mouth fell open, and a truly embarrassing sound escaped his lips, causing the group to all look at him, with various expressions varying from scandalized (Sirius) to confused (Evan)  to amused (Barty and Remus) to teasing (Regulus). 

He could tell that Sirius was speaking and he got the vague idea that it was directed at him but his brain was stuck like a skipping record, skirt, legs, arse, skirt, legs, arse. Arse, arse, arse, arse. Waist, waist, waist, waist. ARSE. Regulus Black was standing in front of them leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of him scowling at his brother, long legs casually crossed at the ankles, wearing a skirt. A tight, tiny, sinful skirt that barely fell past the curve of his arse. His pale, creamy legs toned with lean muscle,  looking tauntingly soft. James could not bring himself to look away, he needed to memorize every line and curve and freckle, to burn the image to the inside of his eyelids, to form a memory he could pull out and pour into a pensieve so he could relive this living angel over, and over, forever. 

Thunk , he was jolted out of his reverie by a hard smack to the back of his head. He blinked a few times, confused about his surroundings, forgetting about everyone and everything that wasn’t Regulus, Regulus, Regulus. Suddenly, the gorgeous view was blocked by the red face and crazed eyes of his best friend, who was raging about something that James was struggling to hear past the buzzing in his ears, “-- close your fucking mouth James Fleamont Potter! Stop looking at him like that or I swear to Merlin that I will drag you by your ear and fling you into the Black Lake for the giant squid to have his way with you!” James shook his head and looked curiously down at Sirius. 

“Why am I being fed to Albert?” James asked, tilting his head like a confused puppy. He heard someone ask “Who the fuck is Albert?” and another voice said, “did they name the fucking squid?” 

Sirius groaned loudly and grabbed James’s shoulders to shake him roughly and growled, “ because Prongs, you were ogling my baby! OGLING! Have you no shame? He’s a BABY! A fucking BABY Prongs!”

“He’s not a fucking baby” four voices said as one, while another voice seethed, “You’re not even a year older than me Sirius! You’re fucking ridiculous! I am not a godsdamned baby and if you don’t stop acting like a fucking imbecile, I will curse your hair off your head and leave you bald with absolutely no counter curse.” Sirius squawked and slapped his hands over his head, as if protecting his shoulder length locks from incoming assault. “That’s what I thought. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will be in the kitchens grabbing something to eat because someone ’s dramatics lasted so long that breakfast has been cleared.” 

James watched in awe as Regulus spun on his heel and headed towards the dungeons. He followed the sway of his skirt-clad hips in a trance, broken painfully by the intrusion of a large ring covered hand that gripped the hips he longed to feel under his own fingers. He looked up and saw Barty Crouch Jr. pulling Regulus into his side while Evan Rosier slung his own arm around Regulus’s shoulders on the other side and ran his fingers slowly, sensually , up and down his neck. Just before they disappeared around the corner, Crouch turned and winked at the gawking Gryffindors. His manic laughter echoing down the stone hall. 

Chapter Text

     As they make their way to the history of magic classroom, Regulus’s fingers twitch with the need to yank down the skirt that had been slowly riding further up his hips with each step. One wrong move and he was certain that he’d be at risk of mooning Professor Binns, and that is not something Regulus wants to experience. Although, now that he thinks about it, it might be to the benefit of everyone if the old ghost startled enough to finally realize he’s been dead for over a century, maybe then the class wouldn’t be so terribly mind numbing. 

     He feels the brush of Barty’s magic graze his thighs and sighs in relief at the repositioning of the skirt. He looks to Barty who sends him a cocky wink and rolls his eyes, but reaches his hand out to brush lightly against the tattooed, ring clad hand in thanks. Instead of grabbing his hand and squeezing like a normal person might, Barty reaches over to pinch his ass, but Regulus, expecting this, smacks his hand away and aims a glare at him that would have any sane person pissing their pants in fear.

     Then again, there isn’t a single person in Hogwarts, probably in all of wizarding England, that would say Bartemius Crouch Jr. is sane. 

     Regulus settles in his seat next to Pandora while Barty and Evan take the table behind them. Binns is already droning on about some goblin war already, even though class doesn’t start for another three minutes.

     “Goodness, there’s so many wrackspurts buzzing around people today. I think it’s your fault, little prince.” Pandora says loud enough for their corner of the room to hear. Some people turn around, confusion and irritation painted on their faces, but one glimpse of Regulus’ narrowed eyes, and their attention is instantly averted. 

      Evan chuckles and nudges Pandora’s chair with his foot, “Oh Panda, you should’ve seen the wrackspurt infestation clinging to the bird’s nest James Potter calls ‘hair’.” Regulus stays facing forward, not willing to give in to their taunting or admit to forgetting what wrackspurts are. Gods, he really needs to start making a cheat sheet on Pandora’s theories. Maybe he can get Evan to help, seeing as he’s the only person that knows what she’s talking about half the time, Regulus was convinced it was due to some sort of twin telepathy. 

     Pandora hummed in response and nodded emphatically, “That makes sense, anytime that boy looks at Reggie, the wrackspurts swarm to him like bees to honey. Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t faint when he saw the skirt.”

     “Imagine the headlines, ‘Heir Potter Succumbs to Coma at Sight of Heir Black’s Perky Arse in Tight Skirt’,” Barty giggles like a schoolgirl, “Salazar, I thought for sure we were about to witness a murder when Black noticed him staring. Can’t say I blame him though, this skirt is really working for me, Reg. Broom cupboard after class?”

     Evan rolled his eyes and shoves Barty’s shoulder hard enough to send him crashing to the floor, pulling the attention of everyone in the room, except old Binns, of course. Barty pouts dramatically as he pulls himself back onto his seat and Regulus finally turns him to quickly flick him between the brows with a mumbled, “idiot.”

     For the rest of the lesson, Regulus is lost in thought as images of an open mouthed, wide eyed James Potter flash through his mind. It was curious, incredibly so, that Potter looked at him like that, with such shameless want. Regulus has working eyes, he’s seen the lingering looks that Potter directed his way over the years, but he ignored them, brushed them off for what they were, a hormonal adolescent boy’s reaction to physical attraction. It didn’t mean anything more, no matter how often his friends teased him about Potter having a “crush” on him. 

     See, Regulus may hate himself most days, hard not to when you’re raised by a hateful screaming banshee for a mother, but he isn’t ignorant to his looks. After-all, the Blacks were known for more than being obscenely rich and clinically insane, they were even better known for their beauty, marked by their signature silky black hair and creamy pale skin, and envied for their high cheekbones and stunning figures. So yes, James Potter thinks Regulus Black is attractive and he probably wants to shag him, but so does the majority of the queer male population of the school (and some of the vehemently straight male population). Nothing would come of him spiraling about this, Potter was just horny and Lily Evans was still rejecting him at every turn, but the moment she finally says yes, and it’s largely believed that she will, his every dream will come true and his fleeting desire for Regulus will fade into the past as nothing but a moment of weakness. 

~  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ~ 

     On Monday’s after lunch, the Slytherins have Transfiguration with the Gryffindors. Somehow, Regulus has made it through the first half of the day without facing any admonishments from the staff about his dress code violation. When he steps into the classroom with his friends behind him, he’s met with catcalls, whistles, and desperate roaming eyes. He expected some sort of a reaction to the skirt, but he did not anticipate just how disgusting it would feel to have so many unwanted people leering at him. He feels a lot like a dead ferret dangling in front of the beak of a hungry Hippogriff with all of the attention this skirt is getting.

     “Mr. Black,” Professor McGonagall’s stern brogue pulls him from his thoughts, head snapping up to look for his brother, expecting to find him doing something ridiculously idiotic, per usual. To his surprise, Sirius is sitting next to Lupin chatting but there doesn’t appear to be any signs of explosions or injuries. “Mr. Regulus Black.” 

     He feels the eyes of everyone on him as he turns to address McGonagall, “Yes, Professor?” The unwanted attention has him straightening his back and smoothing his facial expression to the cold, removed facade that he tends to adopt around adults. 

     Professor McGonagall asks him to step out of the room and once they’re alone in the hall, she places a one way silencing spell on the door to the class, making it so no one can hear them speaking but she can still hear the class, likely to ensure that Sirius and his merry band of idiots don’t cause irreparable destruction while she isn’t present. 

     “I am sure you are aware that what you are wearing is in direct defiance of the Hogwarts dress code.” She raises an eyebrow and purses her lips, one would think her truly upset, if it weren’t for the slight glint of amusement in her eyes. 

     “Yes, Professor. Unfortunately, I cannot change out of this. It’s been spelled onto me and I have tried everything I could think of to undo it, but nothing has worked. You’re welcome to try, Professor, I am sure you will have more luck than I did.” Regulus responds evenly, trying to project innocence and remorse.

     “Hmm, well let us see what we can do, Mr. Black.” McGonagall spends ten minutes sending spell after spell his way to no avail. By the time she gives up, her normally tight chignon is loose, tendrils of grey hair escaping their hold. Her cheeks are red in frustration and the twinkle in her eyes has morphed into frustration. “Well, it appears you are correct. We will just have to wait this out. However, I cannot allow you to walk around breaking rules without consequence, therefore, you will have one detention for everyday in violation of the dress code.” 

     Although Regulus wants to argue, he bites his tongue and nods, knowing that it would only make things worse if he challenges her. Clearing his face of any feeling, he follows her back inside and takes his seat, noticing the note laying atop his textbook written in Barty’s chaotic scrawl, ‘You good?’

     He bites his lip to tamp down the smile he feels forming at his friend’s concern, and quickly writes down, ‘Yes, but you owe me. What sounds like a good repayment for a week of detentions? I’m thinking– the sacrifice of your first born in exchange for my eternal youth? Or, maybe, a bottle of Ogden’s and some sugar quills? Your choice.’

    Regulus hears Barty’s poor attempt at concealing his laughter with a choked cough in response, luckily Professor McGonagall’s still too flustered to notice and reprimand the idiot. 

     He can’t imagine what it must feel like to be a professional adult witch with decades of experience practicing magic and be at a loss about magic cast by a pre-NEWT adolescent. Despite the fact that Barty only spent about an hour working on the spell to execute the consequence of the bet, he still managed to create something so intricate and powerful that it’s unlikely that anyone, aside from Barty himself, can undo it. Regulus is certain that Professor McGonagall realized this when she was casting spell after spell at the skirt. He also knows that she won’t be calling Barty out because, with Barty Crouch Jr., it is always the best course of action to choose the path of least resistance, especially if one hopes to avoid pulling out all of the hair from their head in aggravation.

     Barty spent six years at Hogwarts proving his magical prowess with little effort. If it hadn’t been common knowledge that he holds the highest marks in the year, people would be bewildered to find out that the rebellious student covered in tattoos and piercings with an unquenchable thirst for mischief and chaos, who came in third for the most detentions served (James and Sirius trading 1st and 2nd over the years), surpassed most, if not all, Hogwarts records of academic achievement. 

     Younger years, who are none the wiser, think that the smartest 6th years are the known Gryffindor swots, Remus Lupin and Lily Evans, and the ‘pretentious swot’ of Slytherin house, Regulus Black. They are dead wrong. Barty Crouch Jr. with his penchant for slacking, procrastinating, and rule breaking, is so far ahead of the others that it has never even been a fair race. Remus Lupin enjoys learning and prides himself in his good marks, but has never been one to try and outdo others for the purpose of being number one. Therefore, he remains content with his marks, which are still amazing in and of themselves. Regulus, despite the pressure and expectations of Walburga and Orion, is also content with his marks as they are. In another life, one where he and Barty weren’t best friends (which surely couldn’t exist, no matter the circumstances), he might resent the boy for his natural talent . In this life, having close insight into the brilliant (if worrying) mind of the brightest Wizard of their age, is more than enough to satisfy Regulus’s curiosity. That, and knowing that Barty does not overachieve on purpose, he is just meant for incredible things (i.e. solving world hunger, bending space and time, ruling a nation as a mad scientist turned domineering tyrant— the world is his oyster) despite what his nasty father may believe. Lily Evans, on the other hand, drove herself to the brink of exhaustion and nervous breakdowns every year when faced with the futility of trying to outsmart and outrank the Slytherin. It has gotten to the point that Evans’s irritation and contempt for Barty could be felt radiating off of her anytime he is in her vicinity. For a while their group tried to empathize with how it must feel to be a muggleborn witch in wixen society trying to prove her worth against a backdrop of pure blood elitism and muggleborn discrimination. Each of them has actively tried to be kind (Dorcas and Pandora) or tolerant (Regulus and Evan) towards her. All of them, including Barty, have approached her at one point or another to assure her that even though Barty performs better, it is not an indication of her talents and abilities being worth any less.  Even though she understands what they say at an intellectual level, her personal expectations and conceptions about academia from her home life constantly overpower attempts at reason. Thankfully, the first term of their sixth year is already proving to be a less hostile one as far as Evans and her one sided feud with Barty is concerned. 

     ‘Oh my sweet summer’s child, as if I would ever father a child. Nothing but Ogden’s finest for my favorite twink, you know how much Evan and I enjoy 6-drink-Reggie’s slutty antics.’ At the bottom of the note is an incredibly crude stick figure drawing of (what Regulus assumes to be) him being Eiffel towered by Barty and Evan. The shading of their hair was quite well done, but Barty’s talent with magic absolutely does not extend to the arts. 

~  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ~ 

     That evening, as Regulus sits in his spot next to Pandora (Slytherin house’s resident Ravenclaw) and Dorcas, across from Barty and Evan, a troll of a person brushes past him and purposely grabs one of his arse cheeks. This is just one of many disgusting displays of harassment he’d endured throughout the day, but was the first time anyone had the audacity and indecency to actually put their hands on him. Most people know, as a general rule, not to fuck with a Black, especially not Regulus, but that doesn’t stop the more boneheaded oafs from trying his patience. With a flick of his wrist, the handsy assailant is sent flying back on his arse, landing with a heavy thwack on the stone floor, effectively silencing the chatter in the great hall.

      He’s rising from the bench, intent on tearing the other boy a new arsehole, when a handsome 7th year Ravenclaw kneels down in front of the fallen boy. Irritated by the older boy’s altruistic intentions, Regulus stomps over to berate them both, but is stopped in his tracks when he sees the Ravenclaw’s wand shoved harshly into the flesh of the other boy, another 7th year Ravenclaw that Regulus believed was called Lockhart, and hears the threat spoken through gritted teeth, “You’re lucky there are too many witnesses and I have no intention of relinquishing my position as Head Boy. If I ever see or hear about you so much as eyeing someone without their consent, I will not hesitate to curse off your bollocks, Lockhart.” The boy beneath him scoffs, his face turning an awful puce color as he splutters out useless denials of his misconduct. The Head Boy retracts his wand and Lockhart audibly sighs in relief, before he reaches out to grab him tightly by his cheeks, yanking him closer as he hisses, “The professors are watching, so I will not harm a hair on your overly coiffed head, but if the Slytherins don’t destroy you for this, I promise you that I will. For now, you’re coming with me to the head table to discuss what punishment the professor’s believe to be fitting for your behaviour.” 

     Rising to his feet, the Head Boy (oh, fuck, he’s tall, at least 6’2’’) and pulls Lockhart up by his shirt collar, as if sensing eyes on him, he turns and sends Regulus a reassuring smile and a wink, before nodding his head in a gesture for Regulus to follow them. Now, Regulus has always known that he’s a bit fucked up, what with the whole growing up in an abusive household that uses unforgivables on young, defenseless children and whatnot, but he has never felt so overwhelmingly turned on when witnessing violence, again, likely due to being said defenseless child at the other end of aforementioned unforgivables. But, apparently, tall Ravenclaws with smooth, burnt-sienna skin, rich chocolate brown curls, and cool brown eyes threatening bodily harm in return for non-consensual behavior is a huge turn on for him. 

      As they approach the heads table, he feels the burning pinprick of eyes on his back, and turns to see the three Gryffindor idiots watching with various expressions of concern. He makes eye contact with his brother and understands with just a look at his expression that he’s asking ‘are you okay? do you need me? do i have to kill anyone?’ He rolls his eyes in response, confident that Sirius will understand him to mean, ‘I’m okay, it’s being handled. Don’t murder anyone, your hair wouldn’t survive the salty sea air of an Azkaban prison cell.” As Sirius nods in confirmation, Regulus’s gaze flickers to the scorching intensity of James Potter’s normally soft hazel eyes and he falters in his step (though, he gracefully catches himself before making more of a scene) as he notices the muscles of Potter’s chiseled jaw twitching with irritation, gaze landing heavily on Lockhart and the Head Boy, softening only when it focuses back on Regulus, who feels his cheeks warm with a flush and promptly returns his attention forward, hoping to hide the undeniable pinkness of his far too pale face. How is he supposed to function in a school with so many attractive boys? At the rate he’s going, his coloring would become permanently pink-hued from being consistently flustered.

      “Ah, Mr. Fenwick,” that must be the head boy’s name, Professor Flitwick continues, “Am I right to believe that you can elucidate the reason behind such a public display between Mr. Lockhart and young Mr. Black?” The professor’s kind eyes roam their three faces, stopping to note the now disheveled appearance of his blonde haired student, before turning back to Fenwick for an explanation. 

“Certainly, sir. I witnessed the exchange from start to finish and, regrettably, Mr. Lockhart’s behavior was completely unbecoming of Ravenclaw house. He, not so subtly, groped Mr. Black without consent and Mr. Black, rightfully stupefied him in response to a clear infringement on his safety, sir.” Fenwick held eye contact with the small professor, his face expressing the sincerity of his words. 

      The professor, as well as the surrounding professors, look to Lockhart with undisguised outrage, and remonstrates, “That is unacceptable behavior, Mr. Lockhart. I will be writing to your parents and you will come with me at once to speak with the Headmaster, who I am certain will dole out a worthy punishment for such behavior.” The small professor jumped down from his chair and turns to Regulus, his expression kind, “I sincerely apologize for the behavior of my student, Mr. Black. Nobody deserves their safety threatened by nonconsensual remarks or touching of any kind. Rest assured, Mr. Lockhart will be punished and we can forget all about your use of magic on a fellow student, as it was clearly used as means of defense.” His eyes twinkle lightly before hardening as he turns back to Lockhart and sharply demands, “Come along, boy,” turning sharply on his heel and stalking out of the Great Hall with the hunched over, defeated, red faced Ravenclaw trudging behind. 

     Regulus turns back to his table and is surprised to find that Fenwick had followed and sat himself next to him, Pandora immediately shifting over to make room for the uninvited guest. 

     Regulus, being the stubborn anti-social boy that he is, refuses to acknowledge him before he makes his intentions known. Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait long before Fenwick confidently speaks up, “I’m so sorry he did that, Black. I always knew he was a git but I never realized he was a reprobate until now. I hope you can see it in yourself to not judge my House too harshly based on the actions of one dolt.”

     Regulus turns his head and meets Fenwick’s awaiting gaze, “Not to worry, Fenwick. It’s not your fault the boy’s such a bastard. Besides, I think your show of chivalry outweighs his disrespectful actions. I’d rather like to think that Ravenclaw is comprised of individuals more like Pandora and yourself.”

     Fenwick breaks out into a warm grin and his eyes travel up and down Regulus appraisingly, clearing his throat, he speaks in a husky tone, so that only Regulus is privy to their conversation, “Benji. Please call me Benji.”

     “So long as you call me Regulus,” he bites his lip in response.

     Benji’s smile widens and he places his hands on the table in front of him as if preparing himself to leave, “A lovely name for a truly stunning person. How would you like to go to Hogsmeade together this Saturday?” 

     Regulus tilts his head, sizing up the older boy. Admittedly, he is interested, very interested, but he doesn’t date and says as much to Benji. 

     Benji reaches up and pushes one of Regulus’s errant curls behind his ear with a light brush of his fingers, eyes catching on the fading hickies on his neck, eyebrows raising in understanding, “Well, I think we can still find plenty of ways to get to know each other and enjoy ourselves, without dating. What do you say?” 

     Regulus’s lips curl up slightly, surprised and charmed by the other boy’s ability to aptly match his flirtations, “I likely have detention tomorrow after dinner, but, if you can use that big Ravenclaw brain of yours to find me, maybe you’ll be able to elaborate further on how you’d like to get to know me.” He shoots the boy a small, coy smile with a flutter of his long lashes and turns away from him, in clear dismissal. Thankfully, the boy can take a hint and says goodbye to the group he had barged into before striding off, back to his friends. 

     Regulus can feel his friends’ awaiting gazes on him while he takes a sip of the pumpkin juice in front of him and reaches for a plate, stopping only when Pandora nudges his side and places a full plate of food in front of him. He sighs happily and turns to thank her, immediately regretting his actions when he notices the large, teasing smile she’s aiming at him. Sighing again, louder and more dramatically, he tucks into his dinner as he awaits the bombardment of questions and teasing his friends are sure to badger him with after witnessing the events of the last 15 minutes. 

~  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ~ 

      While Regulus eats and begrudgingly answers some questions and evades others, he is unaware of the proud Gryffindor who sits simmering with jealousy a few tables down as he processes the way Lockhart had assaulted Regulus and how he was too slow to act in Reg’s defense, Fenwick coming out the hero and flirting with him unabashedly. James knows he has absolutely no claim to Regulus, his feelings clearly unrequited— but he still feels anger bubbling beneath the surface watching the only boy he wants, the boy he’s sure he loves, flirting with people who could never dream of being good enough for him. 

Chapter Text

Padding through the corridors on light feet, Regulus weaves between the legs of students trying to make it back to their houses before curfew. He has to evade a few overeager individuals cooing at him and making grabby hands in his direction. Eventually, with some expert jumps and a few slightly more than aggressive hisses, he is able to breathe free as he quickly climbs the steps up to the Astronomy tower. 

He takes a few minutes to clean himself up, focusing on the spots where his fur was ruffled during the trek from the dungeons. After another languid stretch, he shifts out of his animagus form and sits with his legs dangling off the balcony. With a softly muttered spell, he conjures a comfortable cushion, a few pillows and a warm blanket, before relaxing and reclining to watch the sky. 

Going into this ridiculous bet, Regulus was well aware of his odds of losing. If he was being honest, when Barty and Evan had suggested the skirt as the consequence of losing the bet, Regulus went over the pros and cons and decided that losing the bet could only serve to improve his chances of successfully carrying out the plan he’d been working on for the last year. If there was one thing that Wallburga Black disliked more than having a transgender son, it was having a transgender son who made a mockery of everything that their family stood for. 

Had Sirius not left Grimmauld at the end of fourth year, Wallburga would have continued to force Regulus deeper into the closet, punishing him for ‘embarrassing’ the family with his ‘sick mind’. But, the morning that Kreacher went to wake Regulus and Sirius for breakfast only to find Sirius’ bed empty and unused, everything changed. After a few well placed crucios and hexes, Wallburga shoved a still convulsing Regulus into his father’s study where she stood beside Orion, who remained sat behind his desk on an imposing emerald wingback leather chair looking down at Regulus, nose upturned, disgust blatant on his otherwise emotionless face. Biting hard on the inside of his cheek, ignoring the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, Regulus struggled to withhold the whimpers that were threatening to escape as he forced his weak body upright, aware that crumpling in front of Lord and Lady Black would only lead to further punishment. As sweat gathered on his brow and pain burned through his muscles, his parents addressed him by his chosen name for the first time since he came out years earlier. For most people, having their family’s acceptance and encouragement would be freeing, but for Regulus, this sudden change had nothing to do with love or care, and everything to do with manipulation and control. He felt the shackles of the House of Black tighten around him and, behind strong occlumency shields, began developing a plan to escape and secure his freedom and autonomy. As expected, in spite of their hatred and disgust for their son’s gender identity, Lord and Lady Black introduced their son, Regulus Arcturus Black, to society as the new heir to the House of Black. Suddenly, having a transgender son paled in comparison to no longer having an heir. From that day forward, Regulus was their model son in public, and remained their feeble ‘daughter’ behind closed doors. Therefore, Regulus strutting about the school in a skirt surrounded by the children of fellow Sacred 28 purebloods and blood supremacists would undoubtedly besmirch the family. He would be one step closer to successfully severing his magical core from Grimmauld Place and making his great escape. 

When he worked through the pros and cons of the bet, the cons were mainly related to being leered at by disgusting oafs and withstanding sexual harrassment from his peers. Yet, knowing it would happen didn’t make the reality any less upsetting and discomfiting. When Regulus went to his dorm after dinner, he took a long, scalding shower scrubbing hard at his skin as a useless attempt at cleaning off the phantom touch of all of those offensive looks and the lingering revulsion of Lockhart’s groping. 

He thinks about the day and everything that happened as he looks at Sirius’ star, shining bold and bright despite the glow of the waning gibbous moon. A tear trickles down his cheek and he moves quickly to wipe it away, even though no one is present to witness this moment of fragility. Or so he thought, as a throat clears behind him, announcing their presence. The hairs on the back of his neck rise and, without turning, he can somehow tell that James Potter is the one infringing on his personal space. Instead of addressing him in any way, Regulus hopes that ignoring him will make him uncomfortable enough to silently retreat. 

However, much to his chagrin, James Potter does the opposite and takes the silence as an invitation to join him as he makes his way forward and folds himself down to sit beside him. The warmth of his body practically pressed against him is so pleasant that he almost melts into the other boy, but he maintains his wits and shuffles away, increasing the distance between them. He watches as a frown pulls down at the corners of the usually sunny boy’s mouth, and feels the most ridiculous urge to press his fingers into the spots he knows that dimples are hiding, to coax that gorgeous smile out. He is overwhelmed by a sense of wrong at witnessing negative emotions displayed on the face of the most optimistic person he has ever had the misfortune of meeting.

“Is everything okay?” The gorgeous idiot asks. 

Regulus rolls his eyes and scoffs, “That’s entirely too subjective a question, Potter. What are you doing here?”

The light from the moon is hardly bright enough to confirm, but Regulus is almost certain that the other boy’s brown cheeks are tinged with a light flush when he responds, “I, uh, couldn’t sleep. Thought maybe a walk and some air could help. Then, to my utmost delight, I happened upon you stargazing and figured I would join and do some stargazing of my own.”

“At any point in your decision making process, did you stop to think that maybe, just maybe, I would prefer to be alone than share the same air as you?” His glare is fixed on the older boy, yet he doesn’t cower like most people would. 

For some reason, James only smiles as he says, “Why, yes, Sir Black. I did indeed. However, I decided that you looked entirely too lonely and could do with some laughter, some mood lightening, if you please.”

“I very much do not please, Potter. I am perfectly content with silent introspection, something I am sure you know nothing of since you seem to get off on the neverending attention of your simpering fans. Actually, with how similar you and Sirius are, I’m sure that you also exist in a constant state of loud, something I certainly do not need in my life at present.” A light breeze flows past his face, fluttering the loose curls of his bangs over his eyes.

Without hesitation, James leans forward and gently brushes the offending curl behind his ear as he breathes, “Oh darling, do you often think about what gets me off?”

It’s not often that Regulus ever feels grateful for anything he learned in Grimmauld Place, but his ability to maintain his composure when flustered is incredibly appreciated as his heart stutters along with James’ words. He looks into those deep brown eyes for a moment longer before pushing James’ hand away. He narrows his eyes, and scrunches his nose, “Disgusting, as if I would ever spend my time thinking about a Gryffindor ,” he spits. 

Rising more gracefully than Regulus thought him capable of, James offers his hand to the younger boy who stares at it in contemplation, before he casts a quick tempus and decides that he should probably head to bed if he wants to make it through the following day not bearing any resemblance to the Bloody Baron. Pushing aside his many internal alarms at the potential skin-to-skin contact, Regulus places his cold hand in the much larger, much warmer hand of the Gyffindor who lifts him to standing with barely any effort. Underestimating the strength of the well-built chaser, Regulus stumbles a bit and catches himself with a light grip on the prominent muscles of James’ upper arms. He looks up, and is surprised to find the taller boy leaning down, their faces too close for comfort. He blinks a few times and watches James’ tongue dart out and lick his bottom lip, the muscles under his hands flex enticingly. Shaking his head, Regulus steps away from the other boy, willing the darkness of the night to hide the heat spreading up his neck. 

With a slow, appreciative look, James’ eyes take him in, gaze stalling on his bare legs, before he says, “If you’re wondering, I most definitely spend my time thinking about a Slytherin. You’d be hard pressed to find me thinking of anything but a stunning, dark haired Slytherin with a sharp tongue.” He winks, actually winks , and Regulus should find it appalling but only feels ridiculously endeared. He feels the light twitch of his lips, and fights against the rising smile. 

“You’re insufferable.” He scoffs. With a quick wave of his wand, the balcony is cleared and returned to rights. James smiles wide and bright, then bends to pick something off the ground that Regulus can’t see, before he opens the door to the staircase and gestures dramatically with an outstretched arm as if to say, ‘after you’. Rolling his eyes, again, he intentionally bumps his shoulder against the taller boy and mutters, “Idiot,” under his breath, though if the light laugh he hears is any indication, he wasn’t nearly as quiet as he thought. 

“I may be an insufferable idiot, but my mom raised me to be a gentleman, so may I walk you back to your dorm, sweetheart?” He bends his arm, waiting patiently for Regulus to grab hold. 

With a very distinguished (thank you very much) shimmy and light pull of the hem of his skirt, Regulus curls his lip into a practiced sneer as he sweeps his gaze over Potter’s deliciously fit form, hiding any interest as he responds, “I am perfectly capable of walking alone, Potter. Besides, if anyone is in danger of being caught, it’s the one of us that isn’t a prefect.”
James chuckles and nods in agreement, “Okay, fair point, Reg. I’ll try not to get caught. There’s only one prefect I hope catches me behaving like a bad boy, and he isn’t on duty tonight. Goodnight, Regulus.”  Not sparing him another word, a disgruntled and very flustered Regulus turns on his heel and walks quickly away from the Gryffindor, shifting to his animagus form the second he turns the corner and is out of sight.

Chapter Text

Sirius, whose birthday is almost a year before Regulus, got his Hogwarts letter months before his younger brother. From that moment until September 1st of the following year, the brothers would sneak into each other’s rooms or huddle in dark corners where the adults couldn’t see them as they preferred their children to be quiet, only speaking when spoken to. They would trade musings full of longing and hope about the freedom and adventures they would experience together when they were far enough away from their parents' expectations. 

A few weeks after Regulus got his own Hogwarts letter in late July, he gathered up all of his courage to confess his biggest secret and greatest worry to his brother. Hogwarts was a dream that he held onto tightly, but there was always a niggling fear that he would never be able to escape his reality no matter where he was. So, Regulus sat with his back pressed against his closed door, listening patiently for the receding footsteps of his mother and father and the final click of their door being closed before he tiptoed quietly to Sirius’ room. 

He looked up from the book he was reading when he heard his door click open, already anticipating the soft patter of his baby sibling’s footsteps. Since quiet days without punishments were few and far between, the siblings had learned to find joy and comfort in each other before the darkness of Grimmauld Place closed in on them and dragged them back to the Black depths their parents carved out for them. It was one of the only ways they were able to fight back against the pain their parents inflicted, they refused to let all happiness be stripped away from them. It was with this in mind, that Sirius felt shocked to find his baby sibling biting their lip in a display of nervousness that only Sirius was allowed to witness. He watched closely as their lip trembled and the space between their eyebrows creased in a deep furrow. Normally, Sirius would wait for them to seek him out for comfort and reassurance, but he could tell that this moment was different and his sibling needed him to reach out first. So, he quietly climbed off his bed and tiptoed on light feet to his siblings' side. He gently wrapped his arm around their hunched shoulders and felt the tension bleed out of them as they melted into his embrace. Sirius stood patiently, his arms falling numb from holding up the weight of their sibling as their body was wracked with silent pained sobs. Eventually, the sobs subsided and their breaths came back in more regular intervals and Sirius guided them to his bed where he continued to hold them as they lay side by side in the dimly lit room. His sibling croaked with a slightly wet voice, “I need to tell you something, Siri, but I need you to promise that you won’t tell mother and father, that you won’t tell anyone. I need you to promise and really mean it, Siri.”

His heart plunged into his stomach and he felt pinpricks of worry spread throughout his body. His sibling was the most important person in his life and he loved them so deeply, everything that he did was to make life easier on them, to ensure their innocence could not be destroyed by the darkness they faced on a daily basis being part of such a horrid family. “I promise, of course I promise, ________. You can tell me anything, petite etoile. ” He declared in a level whisper.

“Regulus,” they muttered softly. 

Confused, Sirius asked, “Regulus? That’s a star in Leo, right? What does that have to do with anything?”

With determination shining in their glossy big grey eyes, they clarified, “Regulus, my name is Regulus.” 

Without missing a beat, Sirius said, “Okay, Regulus, I like that name a lot. Is that all you wanted to share with me Reg?”

Suddenly, his shoulders felt lighter and his heart fluttered contentedly in his chest at Sirius’ response. Feeling braver already, he explained that even though their parents thought they had a son and daughter, they actually had two sons. Sirius sat quietly and listened as Regulus shared that he was a boy, stuck in the wrong body, and that he wanted Hogwarts to be his opportunity to finally be himself, to finally embrace everything that he was always suppressing for fear of their parents’ reactions to his identity. When Regulus was finished speaking, Sirius held him in a tight hug and muttered loving encouragement into his ear, running his fingers gently through his curls. When he finally pulled away, he said, “I am so proud of you, mon frére. We’ll find a way, a boy doesn’t belong in the girl’s dorms. We’ll make sure that the headmaster and professors know of the mistake in the enrollment. If you’ll allow it, I could speak with Andi or Uncle Alphard, they can help us figure it out. They will love getting to know you, Regulus.” Even though anxiety remained curled around his organs, the tight coil had loosened enough that Regulus felt able to breathe again. No matter what came, he would always have his brother by his side, and that was more than enough for Regulus. 

On the first day of September, 1971, the Black brothers were finally about to start their journey as Hogwarts students. Sirius, who had always been the more energetic one, was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he teemed with anticipation. Regulus, used to controlling his countenance around their parents and occluding his secrets, stood calmly on the platform, trunk at his side, his attention on his mother as she lectured about upholding the expectations of their noble house. Accustomed to his older brother’s penchant for inattentiveness, Regulus listened and cataloged every detail to share with Sirius at a later time. When their parents finally allowed them to board the train, Sirius rushed off towards the nearest open door, Regulus strolling haughtily behind him. He tried his best not to grimace as the wounds on his calves brushed against the coarse material of the heavy skirt his mother had forced him into that morning after finding him in trousers, screaming that no child of hers would act like a freak. He had a change of clothes in his satchel and was practically Sirius-level-twitchy with the need to change before anyone saw him, but feared the severity of his injuries. No matter the pain, he was determined that his first and only impressions as a student be made as Regulus Arcturus. The daughter of Lord and Lady Black was dead, and Hogwarts would only ever know of the second son. 

Craning his head around in search of his brother, Regulus’s guard was down and he was unable to evade his older cousin, Narcissa. Taking him by surprise, she looped their arms together and dragged him to the compartment she shared with other pureblood Slytherins. Luckily, he was able to excuse himself to the restroom before entering, and he proceeded to magic his hair to above chin length sharpening his features, highlighting the more androgynous aspects of his face. He changed his clothes, conjuring some bandages for the lesions running down his calves, and rushed to pull up his trousers, wincing at the fabric catching on the bandages, before he vanished the loathsome skirt with one final sneer. Shoulders pulled back and chin raised loftily, he made his way back to his cousin and did his best to ignore the odd looks as he introduced himself.

After a less than welcoming time spent with Narcissa and her friends, Regulus quickly swept through the carriages in search of his brother, tears leaking down his cheeks that he furiously wiped away, hoping to Merlin above that nobody saw him in this state. Finally, he heard a familiar barking laugh and spotted Sirius’ long dark waves through the window of the last compartment in the final carriage. Taking in a deep breath, Regulus schooled his features into a detached expression, despite the likely red rim of his eyes, and knocked lightly on the compartment door before sliding it open and slipping in. Ignoring the gazes of the other two boys, Regulus locked eyes with his brother and said, “ Pourquoi es-tu parti sans moi, Siri? ”

Immediately noticing the subtle signs of distress on his little brother’s face, Sirius excused himself and pulled Regulus out into the corridor towards an empty bathroom. “Reggie, what happened? Who do I have to kill?” The intense look in his brother’s eye made Regulus giggle, devolving rapidly into a choked sob. 

“Cissa found me. I changed before entering her compartment and it was awful, Siri. They laughed at me and Cissa’s boyfriend, that Malfoy git, called me unnatural and Cissa just sat there and let him say mean things to me. She didn’t even try to defend me.” 

Sirius cursed under his breath and shook his head, a dark look in his eyes. “That bitch. You aren’t going back there. You’ll stay with me in my compartment. The lads in there are really great, Reggie. You’ll definitely like them, one of them is just as swotty as you,” he joked with a gentle bump of their shoulders. The movement jostled Regulus and his leg pressed lightly against the sink behind him, the contact grazing the wounds uncomfortably, and gasped in pain despite his best efforts.

Sirius instantly straightened and studied Regulus closely, as he pulled his wand out and bit out, “Where?” through gritted teeth. Used to this kind of reaction, Regulus merely pulled the legs of his trousers up, vanished the poorly wrapped bandages and turned to show Sirius the damage. With a loud curse and a sharp hiss, Sirius gritted his teeth even harder. His body relaxed as the gentle magic washed over him, spelling the lacerations closed and cooling the burn of pain with a few healing words. With a delighted sigh, Regulus let his trousers fall back to his feet and turned with an appreciative smile on his face. His smile faded when his brother’s narrowed eyes halted his relief, his jaw was still clenched tight as he asked, “When?”

He wished that Sirius would let Regulus go without demanding answers, but he knew how stubborn his brother was. Hatred flashed in the silver eyes so similar to his own, as he practically spat out, “One day, I am going to fucking kill her.” Another tense moment passed, before Sirius helped him glamour away the puffy skin around his eyes and the bright red blotches colouring his face before walking him back to meet his new friends. 

“All right lads, this is my baby brother, Reggie.” Despite every lesson in decorum and proper etiquette drilled into him since birth, Regulus couldn’t hold back the sudden urge to yank his brother's hair for his embarrassing use of the word baby . A quick yelp and an elbow in his side later, Regulus finally takes in the appearance of Sirius’ new friends. The first boy he sees has mossy eyes hidden behind tawny waves brushing his forehead and a long thin scar painted across the bridge of his nose. Even from his position, curled up with his legs bent at the knee, feet on the seat, arms wrapped around with a worn book in his hands– Regulus can tell that he is far taller than the average first year, which means he’s practically a giant in the eyes of the much-shorter-than-normal youngest Black brother. He takes note of the book and feels his curiosity peak, this must be the ‘swotty’ one Sirius was talking about. Across from the lanky boy sits, well more like bounces incessantly in his seat, a boy with brown skin and hair so wild, Regulus fears for the animals that must surely live within the curls confusing them for a nest. They make eye contact and Regulus feels his heart skip a beat when he is met with the kindest hazel eyes, warm like honey, and a toothy grin that nudges circular framed glasses up with the round apples of dimpled cheeks. 

Grimacing internally at his display of weakness in the face of a pretty boy, Regulus shook himself out of it and turned back to the scarred boy, holding his hand out and introducing himself properly, “Regulus, not Reggie. Just ignore Sirius, I’ve lived with him for 11 years and I’ve found that ignoring him is often the best course of action.” Sirius scoffed dramatically but was met with no reaction from his younger brother.

Chuckling lightly as he shook Regulus’s hand, the other boy said, “I’m Remus Lupin.” What kind of name was Remus Lupin? His parents really just named him Wolfy Wolf? For some reason, Regulus felt like this might be something he’d need to revisit at some point so he filed it away for later inspection.. 

“Reggie, you prat! Don’t try to turn my new friends against me!!” His brother whined, eliciting more chuckles from the other boys in the compartment. 

He turned to look at his brother who was sat next to the Potter boy, leaning against him in a way that would surely cause his mother to succumb to an aneurism, and merely flipped him the V before sitting beside Remus, properly, mind you. 

He was pulling a dark looking tome from his bag before waving his wand over it to undo the glamour, leaving a worn muggle book called Pride and Prejudice in its place. As he leafed through the pages to locate his bookmark, he heard a distinctly fake cough come from the other bench. Having found his bookmark, he chose to ignore the attempt for attention, having much better things to busy himself with. Just as Elizabeth was meeting the deceitful Mr. Wickham for the first time, Regulus knew the events of this book better than he knew his own mind at this point, another more dramatic cough sounded. He rolled his eyes but continued reading, before the boy finally gave up the dramatics and spoke up, “Er. Hi, I’m James Potter. It’s nice to meet you!” The level of excitement in that introduction was enough to turn Regulus off to further human interaction for the rest of the day, so he merely looked up, nodded, and dropped his gaze back to his novel.

Sirius kicked his foot out and hit Regulus in the shin with the heavy toe of his dragon hide boot. “Dammit it Sirius, what is your problem?” Regulus grumbled as he rubbed at the aching spot on his leg. 

“Don’t be rude, Reggie. James said hi, that’s when a normal person would say, ‘Hi, nice to meet you too’” His brother was glaring at him, but there was no heat behind his gaze, and Regulus recognized the plea in his eyes. Sighing dramatically, because drama is the foundation the Black family was built upon, Regulus turned to look at Potter, as he did a sarcastic little wave, and teased, “Pleasure to meet you, Potter. Any friend of my brother’s is a….” He trailed off intentionally and the silence lingered heavily in the air. While he would be cordial for his brother’s sake, he wasn’t about to act entirely out of character just to accommodate the bespectacled boy. Expecting the silence to hold or his brother to whisper his apologies for Regulus’s behavior, Regulus jumped in his seat at the shock of the bright laughter that suddenly filled the compartment. Bewildered by the response, Regulus practically gaped at the loud boy full of joy, confusion furrowing his brow. 

“You’re funny. I like you! Sirius says he thinks you’ll be a Slytherin, is that what you’re hoping for?” 

There was no bite to his words, so Regulus observed him closely before responding honestly, “I’m not sure. I just— hope to be sorted wherever is best, I guess.” As he answered, his shoulders relaxed and he let the cold pureblood persona bleed out a bit in favor of being just another young boy nervous and excited about his first year at Hogwarts. 

Sirius chimed in, jumping from his seat and practically plopping himself on Regulus’s lap in an effort to squeeze his cheeks, and cooed, “Oh sweet ickle Reggiekins, you’ll do great no matter what house you're sorted into.” Warmth bloomed in his chest, the reassurance from his brother soothing the knot of trepidation that clung to him leading up to the sorting ceremony. Even though the words comforted him, the annoying display of brotherly affection still managed to irritate him— damn Sirius and his antics, he’d recognize a spiral diversion tactic from meters away even if it was fluttering around rapidly like a tiny golden snitch on a cloudy quidditch field. His brother was far too predictable, but he appreciated his attempts at lightening the tension. Not enough to keep himself from knocking the git to the floor and shooting a wordless spell at his hair, transforming the shoulder length black curls into a horrendous Slytherin green buzz cut. It was that display of a decade long brotherly prank war that cemented Regulus’s friendship with Remus and James, as he bit back the wide smile tugging at his lips while the other boys cackled with glee, his brother sputtering and yanking on his nonexistent locks whining until Regulus took mercy on him and lifted the spell.

As second born, Regulus was used to being overlooked. He was used to his parents always brushing him aside until he was needed while they shepherded his older brother around like a prized show pony. He spent years trying hard to prove his value while honing his intellect under the tutelage of the best governesses money could buy, yet his achievements went unnoticed and ignored as the first born, the heir, remained the center of attention.  All this to say that when Regulus realized the sorting went by alphabetical order and he was about to be called before Sirius, he wished he had thrown himself over the edge of the boat in the Black Lake when he had the chance. 

So now, Regulus Arcturus Black, second born of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, was the first of the Black brothers to be sorted and he begged the Gods above to always be overlooked because the spotlight was not for him, Sirius could keep that attention and Regulus would never again complain about being the youngest. 

His pulse beat rapidly and his vision blurred, but he shoved all of his anxieties down and summoned up his mask as he sat on the stool in the Great Hall and the Sorting Hat was placed on his head. After a few minutes of back and forth, the hat, intent on sorting Regulus into Ravenclaw, finally bellowed out, “Slytherin!” after Regulus threatened to hit it with an incendio and if that didn’t work, he’d always wanted to practice wielding fiendfyre. As Professor McGonagall removed the hat, it grumbled angrily about, “bloody teenagers,” and Regulus met his brother’s eyes, suddenly aware of the tension he was holding in his body as it immediately dissipated when Sirius smiled warmly at him and pulled him in for a quick hug and whispered, “I love you, even if you are a snake.” With a soft smile on his lips, Regulus sat at the Slytherin table and watched his brother be sorted into Gryffindor. He clapped and cheered for him and when they met each other’s gaze across the hall, the boys shared wide grins, interrupted by a hyperactive James Potter standing on the bench next to Sirius waving dramatically and screaming, “Hi Reggie!”, earning his first ever reprimand from Professor McGonnagal.

By their third year, Regulus was used to splitting his free time between his Snakes and his Lions. He studied in the library with Remus, gossiped in alcoves with Sirius, and practiced his seeking with James. He was dubbed the fourth Marauder, despite his many efforts to avoid pranking after experiencing his parent’s ire for his detentions that first Yule break of their first year. And things were mostly good. As good as Regulus could hope for at least when his parents continued to deadname him and force him to act the part of their daughter whenever he was home. He had truly psychotic roommates turned best friends in Evan and Barty and he valued how different, yet equally comforting, their dynamics were from the Marauders. Even though he knew that James and Remus accepted him as he was, he still subconsciously tamped down some of his darker inclinations for fear of scaring them off. With Evan and Barty, Regulus never had to hide a thing. His roommates knew all about abusive families and oppressive familial expectations and they enjoyed learning about the dark arts and kept up easily with his dark humor and biting wit. He also had Dorcas Meadowes, a fellow Slytherin and easily the most badass girl Regulus would ever meet and Evan’s Ravenclaw twin sister, Pandora, who filled their days with so much love and light. 

So, all in all, everything was going pretty well for Regulus, and after years of this newfound stability at Hogwarts, it was only fair that the other shoe finally dropped and shattered his reality.  

He was left floundering without his usual defenses when everything turned to shit with a single unwanted realization on the first day back from Yule break. He and Sirius had spent most of the break apart, Sirius having had the luxury of spending time with the Potters while Regulus was barred from joining because his mother deemed it “unbecoming of young ladies”. For this reason, Regulus left his friends in their compartment and went looking for the Marauders, excited to chat with his brother about the presents he received at the Potters and the adventures he went on while Regulus was locked away like a princess in captivity. 

When Regulus pulled open the compartment doors that housed the third year Gryffindors, his entire world was flipped on its axis. His eyes travelled over the boys and raked over James Potter twice, like a skipping record, as he noticed (and thoroughly catalogued) all of the changes the older boy had undergone in just a few short weeks. Somehow, James was now a whole head taller than him, with broader shoulders and a more defined jawline, and his perpetually messy raven hair suddenly looked stunning against the bronze of his skin. A delicate gold necklace with a Sun etched pendant rested against his collarbone (a Yule gift from Regulus), a teasing bit of skin peeking out from the loosened button down he was wearing, with the cuffs pushed up to his elbows, displaying forearms that were unexpectedly attractive. Holy. Fucking. Shit. On. A. Flaming. Stick. Regulus liked James Potter, Regulus liked James Potter , Regulus liked James Bloody Potter. And fuck if that wasn’t a horrifying realization to come to on a regular day let alone on a day when he’s walking into the compartment just as James is waxing poetic about the wonderful (his words, not Regulus’s) and stunning Lily “the perfect little lioness” Evans. 

Well, this crush (how juvenile) would be suffocated and burned to ashes by the end of the day because Regulus did not have the energy to unpack his feelings and, to put it simply, he just would rather not . 

As the saying goes, “the best-laid plans of mice and men, oft’ go awry”, which is exactly how Regulus found himself pulling away from the marauders and leaning into his Slytherin friendships as his crush on James Potter only intensified with time. By the end of their third year, he and Sirius argued every time they met and his friendship with Remus was strictly relegated to academics. His friendship with James was all but stomped out and discarded in the bin, along with his traitorous heart that cracked each time he bore witness to James swooning over Evans while he only ever looked at him with what could only be deemed, brotherly love, in his eyes. To protect his heart and fortify his defenses, Regulus pushed James away as many times as it took for the other boy to give up his attempts at reconnecting. 

Regulus spent his fourth year distanced from his brother and the other two Marauders, diverting his attention anytime James Potter tried to force niceties while referring to him derisively as Potter. Eventually, he couldn’t even meet the other boy's gaze, discomfited by the sadness and disappointment clouding the usually bright and happy eyes he loved. It hurt to be the cause of James’ pain, but it hurt more to sit back passively and watch as the person who owned his heart threw himself at (an uninterested) perfect girl that he would never be like. 

Even if Regulus could push past the way his stomach dropped to his feet with every “Lily” that was whined, he would have never been able to move past the “what ifs” that flooded his brain. What if Regulus was _______, would James notice him then? And, even if the incredibly heterosexual James Potter turned out to be even slightly bent, Regulus would never be what he wanted once he found out about the secret Regulus was hiding from his friends. Right? James probably wanted somebody “normal”, somebody beautiful who was born with all the right bits and bobs. And, if Regulus had either just been born in a boy's body or with a brain that belonged to a girl in his given body, would James have wanted him instead of Evans? 

The thoughts haunted his mind whenever he let his guard down, much like it was on the fateful night towards the end of fourth year when a drunk Regulus and Barty fell into bed together while the Slytherin House Cup celebration party was in full swing. 

Regulus had been sipping on his drink, leaning against the wall as he watched his friends dance like fools and flirt with everyone that looked their way when a familiar weight fell upon his shoulders from the right and black painted fingers wrapped around his left bicep. Instantly relaxing into the embrace as the warm cinnamon scent of his best friend eased his thoughts. He looked up and melted as he took in the rich chocolate shining in Barty’s eyes, leaning into the familiar want he’d been experiencing around his best friend since coming to terms with his sexuality. 

Recognizing a similar longing in Barty, Regulus, confidence boosted by the firewhiskey running through his veins, wrapped his hand around the back of Barty’s neck, pulling him down until their breaths ghosted over each other’s lips, barely a spoken word away from touching lips. He watched Barty’s eyes rove over his face and flit between his mouth and eyes, interest colouring his cheeks with a lovely blush, and drew from the alcohol’s courage as he lightly, but intentionally, brushed his lips over Barty’s, nibbling at his bottom lip as he pulled back. He was immediately dragged back up to hungry lips, glistening with spit. As Barty licked into his mouth and pressed their pelvises together, all thoughts of James Potter faded– his mind busy begging for more.

Chapter Text

     He woke that morning with arms draped over his waist and breaths tickling the back of his neck and his chest. His legs were tangled up in a knot of limbs and he had little room for movement, even twisting his head was virtually impossible. He caught the scent of cigarettes, eucalyptus, and cedar before finally blinking his eyes open slowly to see a head of blonde hair beneath his chin as the rising sun streamed through the emerald curtains. How did he end up squished between Barty and Evan? Casting a quick wandless tempus, Regulus tried to melt back into Barty’s embrace but felt unease settle in his stomach and a painful ache in his chest that quickly quelled his hopes of more rest. Gently, he lifted Barty’s hand from his torso and slowly slid his legs out from the mess of limbs caught in the sheet. He lightly pushed Evan’s head off his chest and onto the pillow he’d been using and lithely lifted himself up and over Evan with delicate movements, exhibiting grace born from years of ballet lessons.

     He paused and looked at the boys still asleep in the bed, having gravitated to each other, arms and legs intertwined anew, erasing any evidence of Regulus in the lack of space between them. He felt a slight pang at the realization that, without him, his friends still had each other and his presence wasn’t necessary for their happiness. Tiptoeing to the bathroom, Regulus clicked the door closed and looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was in disarray and dried tear tracks streaked down his cheeks, his eyes were red rimmed and puffy– he looked a right mess. 

      While standing under a scalding shower, Regulus tipped his head back, hoping that the gentle spray of water and heavy heat would help erase the signs of exhaustion he bore. As the fog of sleep lifted with the rising steam, he slowly remembered the details of his night. After his time in the Astronomy Tower with James Potter, Regulus returned to the Slytherin dorms where he read some of his muggle literature before falling asleep in his own bed. Flashes of a nightmare flickered through his mind. Sirius leaving him behind– slamming the door on Regulus’s pleading face, spitting angrily about a sister he wished was never born and a brother he always wanted and finally found in someone else. Walburga’s cruciatus, the morning the residents of Number 12 Grimmauld discovered Sirius’s absence. The empty look in her eyes, the curl of her lips, a razor-sharp sneer accompanied by cruel declarations about disgraceful children, embarrassments to the bloodline, anomalies that should have been destroyed, aborted. An image of hope, a shaking and bloodied Regulus, unsteady on his feet– knocking heavily on the front door to a home emanating a welcoming aura, a beautiful boy pulling the door open with a smile that rapidly vanished as his eyes landed on the youngest Black. Pleas, sobs, confronted with cutting smirks, his brother stood beside James Potter, arms crossed, glares pinned on the pathetic form in front of them, vicious laughter in the face of his pain. A shaking arm, hand reaching out in supplication as the scene fades, a whimpering boy left to cower in a dark, oppressive void. He remembers the whines that escaped his lips as he woke with a start, the tears that soaked his pillow as shudders wracked his body. He remembers the warm gentle tones of support as his friends lifted him with tender hands, depositing him on sleep ruffled sheets. He remembers the care he craved in the soft touches that caressed his cheeks, soothing kisses lingering on his clammy forehead, his shoulder, the base of his neck. He remembers the steady heartbeats, the fingers carding through his curls, the circles rubbed into his side, the comfort and security in the familiar embrace lulling him into a dreamless sleep. 

     As he steps out of the shower and dries off, he’s surprised to find tears spilling from his eyes. He grips the sink with white knuckles and bites his lip until the taste of copper floods his mouth. One more minute, and then collect yourself, you’re pathetic. He grits his teeth and takes in a large breath, releasing it, he wipes the fresh tears from his cheeks and mutters some cooling and calming charms to disguise the brutal storm of emotions from prying eyes. 

     On a regular day, Regulus Black can be seen glaring at everyone except his tight knit group of friends. He’s well known for a powerful resting bitch face accompanied by biting insults. But, even on a regular day, you can find Regulus Black sporting small smiles and twinkling eyes at the Slytherin table, sometimes, you might even see him throwing his head back with a delighted laugh spilling from his lips. Which is why, on days when dark clouds seem to hover over him and his lips pull down in a grim scowl– those with a semblance of common sense give the Slytherin a wide berth and actively avoid making eye contact, lest they spark his ire. 

     Throughout the day, Regulus finds himself snapping at his friends at every turn, until he’s pulled from his self-inflicted despondency and isolation at the sight of sadness dimming Pandora’s wide crystalline eyes. 

     “Fuck, I’m sorry Panda. You didn’t deserve that.” He turns to look at Barty, Evan and Dorcas who are sat around him, timidly eating their dinner. Disappointment and concern clouds their features, so he adds, “None of you deserved any of the bullshit I put you through today. I’m sorry.” 

     He wants to cower and hide, crawl into the fetal position and fade into darkness. Instead, he forces himself to maintain eye contact with his friends, to allow the sincerity of his apology to show in his features. A small warm hand squeezes his, and he looks to its owner, to see a forgiving smile bloom across Pandora’s face. He flips his hand and intertwines their fingers, squeezing back, suppressing the tremble in his lips and the tears pooling in his eyes. Suddenly, three more hands are piled atop his and Pandora’s, and the warmth that he feels being offered to him by his friends, his family, helps ease some of the lingering sorrow that’s plagued him since his sleep. 

     “We love you, Reggie. It’s okay to feel sad, just try not to be such a sodding prick about it, ay?” Scolded Evan, his mouth slanted up in a lopsided grin. The rest of dinner is filled with light chuckles and kind words. Regulus sits back and basks in the comfort offered by the people he loves most in the world. 

     A warm hand lightly grasps his elbow as he’s walking up the stairs, headed in the direction of the library with his friends after dinner. One hand on his wand, Regulus turns around and meets the person’s eyes, surprised to see Benji Fenwick directing a flirty smile at him. When Benji asks to speak to him privately, Regulus merely arches an eyebrow in response before turning back to his friends to wave them along. He pulls his arm out of Fenwick’s grasp and they walk silently up the stairs, down another corridor and up another flight of stairs until they’re in an empty corridor. They find an alcove that’s slightly obscured, but privacy is easy to come by in this area of the school that is empty more often than not. Regulus glances at Benji, looking up through his lashes at the very tall Head Boy with his lips lifted in a coy smile. He stays silent, as he watches the boy’s eyes travel up his body, shivering slightly at the intensity of his gaze. When Benji’s eyes meet his, Regulus catches the tip of a pink tongue licking along the boy’s lips and feels heat pooling at his core. 

     “I’ve not been able to think of anything besides you since last night, Regulus.” His voice, strong and husky, breaks the silence and the tension filling the space between their bodies is thick with anticipation. 

     “I thought I told you to try and find me in the library, not up to the challenge?” He cocks a hand on his hip and flutters his lashes, fully aware of the effect such actions have on the older boy. 
     With a quirk of his lips, Benji leans further into Regulus’s space, lowering his head and his voice, he says, “I’m a Ravenclaw for a reason, sweetheart. You said I had to find you, you never said I could only look in the library.”

     With a soft chuckle, Regulus responds, “I suppose you’re right. How can I help you, Benji?”

     He feels Benji’s hand brush against his hip and bites his lower lip in response. With another lick of his lips, Benji groans, “I rather think we can help each other, gorgeous.” The hand at his hip grazes down his side until he feels fingers gently digging into the flesh of his arse over the material of his short skirt. He bites back a whimper and merely arches his brow up at the Ravenclaw, schooling his features into a look of pure innocence that draws another groan from between Benji’s lips. “Fuck, you are the most stunning creature I’ve ever seen.” He lowers his head further until his nose brushes against the place where his shoulders meet his neck, lips brushing against the delicate skin and raising goosebumps in their path. He feels the other boy’s breath tickling behind his earlobe, followed by a light tug of teeth that finally forces the whimper to escape his lips. “I want to taste all of you, Regulus. I want to take you right here, against this wall and listen to all of the pretty little noises you make as I take you apart. I want to hear you scream as I bury my cock into your tight little hole, but I’ll accept your breathy whimpers for now, if you let me have my way with you right here. We wouldn’t want to attract too much attention now, would we?” He breathes the words into Regulus’s ear, and the temptation is suddenly too much, so Regulus does what he does best.

      He teases, “For now? You think highly of yourself, if you’re already expecting this to happen more than once.” He pushes lightly against Benji’s chest until he has room to twist and press the other boy up against the stone wall. Lifting on tip-toes, Regulus arches into the other boy and runs his hand up his chest, fingers lightly stroking the line of his collar bone, eyes fixed on the way his Adam's apple bobs in time to the shudder that passes through him at the touch. With their lips just centimeters apart, Regulus purrs, “I think now is when you, what was it? Have your way with me?” 

     In the span of a single shaky breath, Benji flips them so the uneven stone wall is biting into his shoulder blades. The jolt of movement sends Regulus’s head back, and he tenses in preparation of the collision of his skull against the stone, but it never comes as Benji’s hand cradles the back of his head, fingers threaded through his black curls in a tight grip that sends a wave of pleasure through his body. Parting his legs in invitation, Regulus looks up just in time to see chocolate eyes darkened by desire, before full lips press softly against his own. Their heated moment promised intensity and aggression, so the light pressure of the kiss takes Regulus by surprise. 

     Just as disappointment threatens to rise, Benji pulls back and offers Regulus a sinful smirk before he uses his unoccupied hand to wave his wand and mutter a few indecipherable words. He places the wand back in his pocket and removes his other hand from behind Regulus’s head to cradle his cheek and slide his thumb across his bottom lip, before tugging it down and gently pressing his thumb into Regulus’s mouth, an eyebrow quirked in challenge that Regulus meets with the flick of his tongue over the pad of Benji’s thumb. With a hitched breath, Benji curls his other hand around his waist, fingers pressed hard into his sides before bringing his lips back to Regulus’s with bruising intensity. He feels Benji’s tongue lick at the seam of his lips and opens his mouth in encouragement, their tongues tangle together, exploring each other’s mouths with fervor. Groans and moans fill the air, there’s no way to decipher what sounds belong to which boy, as lips detach and place open mouthed kisses along the corner of his mouth and down his jaw, tongue licking at the spot where Regulus’s jaw meets his neck. A punishing bite against his clavicle soothed with the wet press of a tongue, followed by cold air blown over the area, eliciting a mewl from Regulus. In that moment, Regulus remembers his hands hanging loose by his sides and lifts them to tug at the brown curls grazing the nape of Benji’s neck, brushing down until his fingers are tightly gripping the other boy’s shoulders in an effort to hold on to something as his mouth and neck are ravaged. 

     Benji’s lips find their way back to Regulus’s and their tongues lick into each other’s mouths with purpose before he pulls away again, chuckling lightly as Regulus leans in for more before he drops to his knees in front of the other boy, a wicked smile on his lips as wide grey eyes follow the movement and a pink tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip with want. A shiver passes through him as the pads of Benji’s fingers graze his inner thigh, pushing his skirt up and revealing his wet emerald panties. With a hungry growl, Benji buries his face in his core and laves at the material over his clit. He pulls back and tugs the material roughly to the side, darting one more glance up at Regulus before pressing his tongue against his entrance, sucking and licking, groaning in delight as he gets his first taste of Regulus. His tongue licks from his entrance to his clit before stiffening against the bundle of nerves, causing Regulus’s legs to shake. With a chuckle against his cunt that Regulus feels reverberating in his bones, Benji presses Regulus’s legs open further before lifting his right leg up and over his shoulder to gain easier access and a better angle to fuck his tongue into Regulus’s tight heat. Regulus throws his head back and releases a long moan of pleasure, hardly noticing the way his head is cushioned against the now pillowy-softness of the stone wall. 

     Benji presses a finger in beside his tongue and drags against his inner walls that tighten in response. His tongue pulls out and another finger is pushed in, followed by a third that slides in easily as his wetness lubricates Regulus’s hole. With his tongue pressed back roughly against his clit, Benji twists his fingers and curls them against the front walls of his cervix, finding the spongy texture of his g spot, drawing mewls and muttered curses from Regulus. He digs his fingers into Benji’s hair, pressing his face in further, hips shift back and forth fucking himself on Benji’s fingers, against Benji’s tongue. He feels the walls of his cunt constricting as the coil of pleasure tightens in his core. His fingers dig into Benji’s scalp as his body tenses, and he releases a breathy, “Fuck, Benji, fuuuck. I’m close, I’m so close.” 

     He feels the words more than he hears them, “Come for me, Regulus.” And the coil snaps, pleasure coursing through his body, walls pulsing around Benji’s fingers that continue to press into him as he rides out his orgasm.

☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀ ☀

      Let it not be said that James Potter isn’t an incredible friend. He hums a tune to some muggle rock song that Moony and Pads like to play on repeat in their dorm as he winds his way through the dark Hogwarts corridors, winking and waving at some of the paintings he passes to pass the time. He truly doesn’t mind covering Remus’ prefect rounds, but normally he at least has somebody to chat with but it’s just his luck that Moony’s prefect partner had sent him an owl informing him that she was sick and wouldn’t be able to make it for the night and had no luck finding another prefect willing to take her spot. 

     After dinner that night, he’d made his way outside for a stroll to clear his mind and try his hardest not to follow Regulus (okay, stalk) around the castle like a lost puppy. When he finally made it to Gryffindor tower and up the stairs to his dorm, he’d walked in on a bit of a chaotic scene with Padfoot cursing and shoving at Moony while Moony was grumbling and trying his best to weave around the smaller boy, but ultimately failing since his movements were clunky at best due to the fatigue he’d been sporting since the morning. 

      “Oi, what is happening right now? Sirius, you do realize that Padfoot isn’t a herding dog, right? You’d be rather shite at it, if we’re being honest.” James chuckled as Sirius’s head popped up from behind Remus’s long legs where he had latched his body around the other boy to prevent him from moving any further. He had to fight the eye roll when he noticed how Remus’s look of exasperation was so clearly full of fondness, Merlin, help them, the absolute besotted fools. 

      “Thank Godric, James, can you please remove this pest and keep him occupied so I can go do my fucking rounds?” Remus asked, his eyes wide and beseeching as their gazes met. 

      “Hey! I am not a pest. James! Tell this stubborn git that he should skive off rounds tonight. He should be resting! You’re exhausted Moons, the full is just a couple days away. Just let me take care of you, for fuck’s sake.” Sirius had pulled himself off the floor by now and was facing Remus with his hands on his hips and magic crackling through his shoulder length wavy black hair. James grimaced, Padfoot was not going to back down without an even bigger fight and Remus really didn’t look so hot. 

      “Rem, who’s your partner tonight for rounds?” James interrupted the long staring contest between his best friends, forcing out a fake cough to smother the laughter that bubbled up as they jumped, clearly forgetting they weren’t alone in the room. 

      Remus turned and sat down on his bed, bent over with his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees, he mumbled, “It was supposed to be the Bones girl from Ravenclaw but she owled earlier saying she’s sick and I’ll be doing rounds alone tonight.”

      Sirius looked over at James and raised his eyebrows in a look that screamed Do you see why I can’t let him go? Help knock some sense into the idiot, please. His eyes flitted between the sullen form on the bed and James as he waited for James to come up with a solution to his problems. Thing is, Padfoot was right. They couldn’t let Moony do his rounds alone, he barely looked able to stand, let alone walk around the entirety of the castle for the next two hours. If something happened, no one would be around to help him and he was far too stubborn about rules to allow the Marauders to join him. Considering their track record, that would undoubtedly end in staff toilets exploding or the awakening of another dormant poltergeist. James couldn’t really blame the werewolf for his hesitancy to allow the dynamic duo (that Remus so lovingly dubbed Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum) free reign of the unsupervised castle at night time. “Moons, maybe Padfoot is right. Why don’t you stay in tonight and rest?” Remus lifted his head and opened his mouth to protest, but James left him no room, “I’ll do your rounds, mate. I’ve done them before and my essay for Charms is done and I’m almost done with the Transfig assignment so you aren’t coming between me and my education you swotty bastard.” With a lopsided grin, James walked over to Remus’s bed where Sirius had already made himself at home, laying back with his head propped up on Remus’s pillows and a socked foot poking incessantly at Remus’s back. Nudged Sirius’s foot aside and ruffled Remus’s hair. 

      The werewolf looked up at him with a defeated look in his eyes, “If you’re sure. I don’t want to be a bother, Prongs. But, I could really use a good night’s sleep.” James shook his head, leaned down and placed a light kiss atop the other boy’s tawny curls then made his way to Sirius, planting an exaggerated wet kiss on his pale cheek before he’s shoved away and Sirius is dramatically exclaiming, “Yuck, stop slobbering on me you git. I know I’m irresistible but I’m not interested, Prongsie.” His eyes glittered with mirth as they followed James’ retreating form out the door. 
     

      “Love you, lads. I expect to find you both alive with all your limbs intact by the time I come back!” He yelled as he shut the door behind him.

      Which is how James found himself opening broom cupboards and lazily flicking tapestries aside in search of any stragglers and curfew breakers. He was somewhere on the fourth floor in a part of the castle he hadn’t ever spent much time in when he heard some muffled sounds. He followed the noise, and as he got closer he could tell that the muffled sounds were keening moans. A particularly loud grunt echoed in the hall and James stopped in his tracks, wide eyed. Fuck. Of course, it’s just his luck that he would have to break up some randy teens. He debated internally whether or not he could get away with just turning around and letting the couple be, but his conscience, which sounded an awful lot like a lecturing Remus, told him it was important to Remus that he take his prefect role seriously, so he gather up his Gryffindor courage and pressed forward. When he turned the corner, he was stopped in his tracks looking every bit the startled stag that he is, as he discovered the source of the moans. His heart dropped, heat creeped it’s way up his body, and his hands started shaking with a combination of nerves and distress. Just a few meters in front of him, clearly outlined by the light of the moon streaming in through the windows, a tall boy was pounding his hips against another body that was wrapped tightly around him. There was no denying who the person was that was getting fucked into the wall, the black curls, the creamy lithe legs spread and hitched around the hips of the tall boy, the silver ring clad fingers digging into tensed shoulders.
     

      Regulus Black. Regulus Black was currently being fucked within an inch of his life in an abandoned corridor by some, some arsehole that wasn’t James. Regulus Black was releasing breathy moans, whining “harder” in a husky voice that sent all of James’ blood rushing to his cock. Merlin’s saggy balls, James had never heard anything so beautiful, so erotic, his dreams had nothing on the reality that is a thoroughly debauched Regulus. 
     

     James stood there frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene he was witnessing, equal parts eager to watch Regulus fall apart and red with murderous rage at the fact that it was somebody else who was buried inside him, somebody else who was eliciting those sounds from his pretty pink lips. He couldn’t interrupt and break them apart, because that would be incredibly awkward for everyone involved, not to mention a totally uncool move. He didn’t want Regulus to know that James saw, he didn’t want the other boy to feel embarrassed around him or worse, violated, by James’s accidental voyeurism. Just as he was about to spin on his heel and walk stiffly back to his dorm, his erect cock pressing hard against the zipper of his trousers, begging to be touched, Regulus’s head snapped up and his eyes opened, landing directly on James. His breath stuttered and he wouldn’t be surprised if his heart had stopped, Regulus was looking directly at him and James was glued to the spot under his heated gaze. His brain was short circuiting and none of his thoughts were remotely coherent, the only part of his body that was in working order was his twitching cock and his retracting balls. Suddenly, Regulus Black, the man of his dreams, the honest to Gods love of his life, the untouchable beauty that was currently being fucked by someone else, winked, bloody winked at James as a broken whine escaped his parted lips and his tensed legs shaking with release. And James Fleamont Potter, the Golden boy of Hogwarts, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, the subject of many wet dreams and fantasies amongst the student body, was coming in his pants untouched like a prepubescent little shit, with just the sight of an orgasming Regulus to thank for his own orgasm that tore through his body and had him groaning far too loudly in the sex-scented corridor. Before he could die of embarrassment, he turned and ran, knocking over a suit of armor in his haste. He heard a strained male voice curse and mutter, “Shit. Fuck. Did you hear that?” 

      He ran all the way to Gryffindor tower, only stopping to catch his breath by the portrait of the Fat Lady before casting a quick tergeo to clean the spunk that was uncomfortably sticky in his pants. He took a few deliberate deep breaths and willed the heat in his cheeks to subside before he gave the Fat Lady the password and a cocky bow in thanks. 

      James prayed to Merlin, Morgana and whatever powers that be that Sirius would be asleep or at the very least, out on his own escapades so he wouldn’t have to face his best friend after having witnessed (and orgasmed to) said best friend’s little brother having sex in a public space with some unknown twat. 

Chapter Text

“Reggieeeeee.” Barty whined. 

“Reginalddd,” hissed Evan. 

“Little Prince, you can’t ignore us forever!” twinkled Pandora.

Regulus continued to avoid meeting their gazes as he took a special interest in the slice of toast he was busy buttering. If there was one thing that Regulus had perfected over the years, thanks in no small part to the ridiculously loud and energetic older brother he grew up with, it was his ability to block out any external stimuli that would otherwise grate on his nerves. As a kid, anytime he needed a break from the everything that is Sirius, he would withdraw so deep that the only way to bring him back into the present was through abrupt touch, Sirius’s go to was jumping on Regulus’s back and aggressively nuzzling his hair. That morning, Dorcas decided to channel the devil as Regulus was pulled back into the conversation at the Slytherin table via that equal parts startling and disgusting sensation of a spit slicked finger poking into his ear. The sensation made his skin crawl and he immediately swatted her hand away and reached for a napkin, ignoring the drinks he knocked over in his rush to be rid of the lingering wetness of his ear. 

“Eugh, Dorcas. You fucking nasty witch. I swear to Salazar, if you ever stick your nasty fingers anywhere near my head again, I will cut your fingers off one at a time and feed them to Barty.” He grumbled. 

Regulus tried to sneer at his friends as they laughed dramatically at his distress but found his lips twitching and bit his cheek to keep from breaking his masked stoicism. He flipped them off and stuck his tongue out and they laughed harder, Dorcas leaning her head against his shoulder and pressing a light kiss on his cheek with a huff. 

“Hold up, Dorcas is the one who fingered your ear,” Dorcas immediately cried out Bartemius Crouch, do not call it that! “So why am I being dragged into this?” He complained. 

Regulus rolled his eyes and pinned him with a look of incredulity, as he deadpanned, “Because, if anyone here would ever participate in cannibalism, it would undoubtedly be you.”

“Hey!” Barty said, his face pinching in concentration before a slightly deranged glimmer appeared in his eyes and his mouth widened into a maniacal smile. He turned and grabbed onto Evan, licking a long stripe of his cheek before biting into his skin and releasing an exaggerated moan. With a twisted smile and mirth in his eyes, he turned back to Regulus, shrugged his shoulders and said, “Okay, fair enough,” so nonchalantly that Regulus couldn’t hold back his laughter. And since the world has been shining down on him lately, the mouthful of tea that he had just taken a sip of spilled out of his mouth and drenched Barty’s plate of eggs, causing the whole group to cackle loudly. 

He was wiping away his tears and muttering a quick tergeo through puffs of laughter, when the laughter of his friends and Barty’s exclamations of disgust were abruptly cut off. Curious, Regulus lifted his head and noticed that his friends were all looking in the same direction, and a silence swept through the Great Hall, a hush blanketing every table as the air crackled with a tense energy. He turned and swept his eyes up towards the windows where the owls were sweeping in with the morning post. A large, regal black eagle owl was carrying a crimson envelope in its beak. Regulus blanched, his entire body going cold with dread. After years of witnessing Sirius Black’s receipt of angry howlers from Walburga Black, it seemed the whole of Hogwarts recognized the black owl as the Black family’s own Grim, bringing with it the promise of pain and cruelty. 

~  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ~

Sirius Black was pressed against the warmth of Remus’s body, basking in the comfort offered by his best friend and the constant heat that he emitted as a byproduct of his wolfyness. He was finding it hard not to angle his head just a fraction into the crook of Remus’s neck and nuzzle into it. He tampered the impulse by nudging his nose into Remus’s shoulder instead and taking a deep breath, his senses gently engulfed in the scent of woolly sweaters, decadent chocolate, yellowed pages of old tomes, and the crispness of an autumnal forest. The tension of a night spent worrying about the toll the upcoming moon was taking on Remus’s body dissipated and Sirius felt as if he could fall into a deep sleep in this very position because nothing ever felt half as safe as being beside Moony. 

He was sipping on his cup of coffee and half-heartedly listening to Peter’s daily gossip updates, when a familiar bark of laughter carried over from the Slytherin table. It was a sound that soothed his soul and filled his heart with joy. A sound that he loved to hear and craved to elicit, because that beautiful soft lilt symbolized his brother’s safety. He turned in his seat, a soft smile on his lips as he watched his brother turn pink as he lifted his hands to his mouth, an old habit borne from having to smother his joy in the oppressive darkness of Grimmauld Place. He felt a pang of hatred for the family that snuffed out the precious innocence that Regulus used to shine with and tried to soak in the joy that was coming off in waves from the Slytherin 6th years. 

“What are you looking at, Pads?” Remus’s low voice rumbled, his hot breath tickling Sirius’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Sirius twisted back and gazed up into Moony’s liquid honey eyes, warmth spreading in his belly, blood heating his cheeks up in response to being at the center of Remus’s attention. 

Before he could respond, he heard James’s hissed “Oh Fuck,” and noticed the heavy shadow that darkened the Great Hall and muffled the morning chorus of waking voices, an eerie silence settling over the Hogwarts Houses. 

Sirius remembers a night in the dorm, listening to Bowie crooning over the turntable speakers while he doodled on the margins of his notes in a failed attempt to study. He was splayed out on Remus’s bed while the other boy was sitting on the floor, his back against the frame with he head lolling on the mattress while Sirius’s fingers unconsciously raked through Remus’s tawny curls. He was drawing stars and moons when Remus’s soft chuckle caught his attention. 

“What’s so funny, Moons?” asked Sirius. 

Remus turned his head, his lopsided grin causing a flutter of butterflies in Sirius’s stomach. He held up the magazine that he’d been looking at and explained the wonders of Muggle comics to Sirius. He remembers the way that Remus’s amber eyes shined with joy as he passionately explained the tale of Spider-Man and allowed Sirius to rest his chin on his shoulder so they could read the comic together, patiently answering the numerous questions that Sirius had as he tried to understand all of the muggle aspects he’d never heard of. Spider-Man had something called “spidey-senses” and seemed to feel a sort of tingle when danger was near. 

As the pressure of the silence threatened to overwhelm the Great Hall, Sirius recalled Spider-Man’s “spidey senses”. A cool shudder ran up his neck and Sirius could feel the menacing magical signature that oozed through the corridors of Grimmauld place. His Walbitch senses were tingling. 

Dread pooled in his stomach and his chest tightened with worry when he noticed the Black family owl carrying a trembling howler to the Slytherin table. His instinct to protect his baby brother kicked in and Sirius was up and yanking the howler out of the bloody bird’s beak with one hand and gently grabbing hold of his brother by the crook of his elbow in the other, moving them quickly out of the room as the red envelope shook, forewarning an acidic admonishment meant to belittle and embarrass, Walburga’s favorite tactic for programming her son to be the perfect Black– heartless, cold and unforgiving. 

~  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ☆  ~

There’s a buzzing in his ears and his brain feels distant, disconnected from his body. He sees someone dragging him from the Slytherin table into the corridor. He sees that same person muttering indecipherable words as he pulls him into a classroom. He watches as a group of people pile into the class behind him, despite the first person’s protests and attempts to send them away. He watches his body crumple to the floor in the corner of the room, his knees drawn up to his chest, his head sagging with a heavy wait. He knows that his body feels cold and clammy, but he doesn’t feel it. There’s a vague awareness of an argument happening around him that’s pierced by the shrill haughty voice that wrenches his floating mind back into his cowering body, jerking him harshly to the present. 

“________ Black! How dare you continue to embarrass this family by besmirching our noble name with your disgusting actions. You will cease this attention seeking at once, or face the consequences when you return home. Behaving like some common two knut whore, when you already know how difficult, nearly impossible, it will be to find a pureblood man of decent standing desperate enough to willingly marry an abomination like you! 

I have discussed this with your father at length and we agree that we have been far too accommodating of your delusions. That nasty boy ,” she spit the word out like the very thought of her first born repulsed her, “sullied our name the day he was sorted into that House full of blood-traitors, half-breeds and mudbloods. No matter his many faults, that boy has always been strong-willed and powerful, possessing all the makings of a proper leader. He was brainwashed by the filth he befriended, and turned his back on our family. Though he besmirched the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black when he abandoned us, his greatest crime was leaving you behind. 

Were it left to me, I would have dragged that mutt back by his filthy mane and punished him accordingly. There is a suitable method for demanding his obedience; however, your father, ” the disgust was practically palpable as she spoke, “believes that altering that boy’s behaviours would be too conspicuous as he has forged a rather loud existence. He is the one that suggested we play into your ridiculous fantasy for an heir is required to continue our bloodline.

I would rather have NO heir, than depend on an atrocity such as you to fulfill a role you were born too weak to execute! I do not know what I could have possibly done to deserve the curse that is being mother to two disgraceful children, but I will not stand for this any longer. You have been nothing more than my greatest  disappointment since the moment you took your first feeble breath. I never wanted a daughter, yet I performed my duty to this family by providing you with the best education in the effort to mold you into a proper aristocratic lady. You are my greatest failure, child, and I would rather obliviate your existence from our family tree, but Lord Black is more benevolent than I. 

Come Yule, you will be expected to abandon all notions of this falsified identity of yours, and you will learn to behave as the proper lady you were taught to be. Lord Cantankerous Nott has shown interest in a betrothal contract, and we believe that he has the capacity to keep you in line and make an honest woman of you. You are to behave like a respectable lady worthy of the Black family name immediately or be punished accordingly. Believe you me, girl , any punishment you and that boy have experienced will pale in comparison to what is promised should you continue to disappoint us.”

The howler exploded with the promise of pain that echoed within the walls of the classroom. Regulus had curled further into himself, his body trembling with a volatile combination of embarrassment and fear. Walburga always had the incredibly uncanny ability to make Regulus feel smaller than a speck of dust, and the physical distance between them did nothing to mitigate the effects of her words. 

He kept his head buried beneath his arms, unwilling to face the looks of pity that were no doubt awaiting him. In all the commotion of the last hour, he hadn’t taken note of who all had followed them into the classroom and was terrified to find out who had witnessed his mother dead-naming him and cursing his very existence. All he wished for in that moment was to let down all of his walls and break down in private, before he had to acknowledge the weight of his brother and friends’ well-meaning, yet overbearing, concern. 

He heard some murmurs but had no energy to discern the words spoken. There was some shuffling and heavy sighs, yet Regulus remained shivering in his corner. 

Suddenly, his body was encased in the comfort of a gentle warming charm as someone approached. He smelled broom polish and cedar and spiced chai, a combination of scents that he instantly recognized. It normally sparked a fire in his chest and an ache in his core, but the knowledge of who it represented being witness to the contents of his mother’s howler made his heart drop and hot tears well in his eyes. 

His head snapped up in alarm and confusion as a light silky material was placed over his shoulders and settled atop his body. He noticed that whatever was on him was gossamer-thin as his view of the room was unobstructed. He turned slightly and found his eyes locking onto the gentle gaze of the most gorgeous hazel eyes. 

A light whisper puffed against his ear and the soft tones of James’ voice breathed, “I put my invisibility cloak on you, no one can see you right now, Reg. I’m sure you’ll have a list of questions about this eventually and I will be more than glad to answer them all when you would like. For now, take the cloak and go where you need.”

The tears that he was choking down were now streaming freely down his face and his heart that’d been hollowed by his mother’s words was beating anew, gentle thumps to the tune of “Ja-mie, Ja-mie.”

He pushed his arm against the wall behind him in an effort to stand but was stopped by James’ large hand pressing against his arm. “Just… before you leave. That bitch is vile and cruel and has never been and will never be deserving of you. You are… everything. Absolutely everything. All of us are here for you when you’re ready, but don’t give her words the power she seeks, Reggie. You are loved and wanted exactly as you are.” With that, he released Regulus’s arm and traipsed away to the other end of the room where all of the people he loved most in the world were gathered, expressions pinched with confusion as their eyes roamed the room, unable to locate Regulus who was just there a moment before and had vanished into thin air. 

As their voices rose in panic, Regulus slowly and quietly slipped out of the room and into the corridor. Shoulders hunched, tears staining his cheeks, Regulus walked away to find a private space where he could process everything that he’d just experienced, from his mother’s painful message to the soothing kindness in James’ words. A dark cloud of sorrow surrounded him, but rays of sunshine were fighting their way through, melting a path out to a future of renewed possibilities beyond basic survival. He would take his time to crumble, to release the angry sobs clawing up his throat, to sink into the despair that threatened to consume him whole.

But he wouldn’t let the despair take him, he wouldn’t surrender to the dread and fear because he was done cowering. He’d been waiting for the opportunity to wrench himself from Walburga’s grasp and no longer had the ability to stall because his survival at Grimmauld Place was no longer guaranteed. It was now or never, and Regulus would find the strength to tear Walburga apart and destroy everything she cared for with a little help from his true family.

Chapter Text

Barty Crouch Jr was well known for being unhinged. Most Hogwarts students have heard of or witnessed Barty behaving erratically at least once before graduation. He’d participated in plenty of dirty duels and physical muggle style altercations, proudly displaying a busted lip or a black eye with a darkness in his gaze that made other students feel nervous or flat out scared to be around him. That’s why, when Barty met people who possessed a similar lingering darkness, he clung to them like a dragon protecting its hoard. And when he met people that shined with innocence and felt like goodness personified who still welcomed him with acceptance and open arms, he would, honest to Merlin, kill to protect them and keep them safely tucked by his side. 

When Barty was a child, his father would drag him along to Ministry events frequented by stuffy rich people with upturned noses and posturing wannabe politicians whose words were slimier than flobberworm mucus. He always noticed Regulus Black at these events. The boy was poised, always the quintessential pureblood child trailing behind his horrid mother’s skirts while his obnoxious older brother was paraded around the room, a pompous heir in the making. Of course, back then he didn’t know Regulus as Regulus. He hardly even knew the Regulus from before, since Barty Crouch Sr would rather lick a public restroom floor than share niceties with known or suspected dark witches and wizards. That didn’t stop Barty from looking, appreciating and longing. It was almost impossible to miss, even from a distance, the depth of sadness that swam in the younger Black’s cold slate eyes. 

Bartemius Crouch Sr. had Barty’s arm gripped tightly by his side, his fingernails digging half-crescent moons into his son’s skin despite the fabric of his new ‘first day of school’ robes covering his arms. Barty had been bouncing with energy since he woke up that morning, excited to finally be a Hogwarts student and have the opportunity to make real friends– and even more excited to have an entire country of separation between himself and his pillock of a father. He ground his teeth together when he felt his father tug him harshly back after a failed attempt at escaping his grip. His father stopped him and ducked his head slightly to meet his eleven year old son’s eyes. With a hard look and deep frown lines marking the corners of his lips, he went on another one of his tired lectures about “honoring the Crouch family name” and “excelling with dignity”  and “choosing the right friendships that will benefit his future”. His attention drifted away from the exhausting list of the many ways that Barty embarrassed the man merely for existing. His eyes wandered, and he was forced to smother the ache in his chest at the sight of parents hugging their children and murmuring loving words in their ears when he noticed the telltale black curls of the youngest Black slipping up the train’s steps.

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Barty was flustered. His hair, which his father slicked back with the extra-strength Sleekeazy’s that left it looking stiff and shiny, was ruffled in various directions that made him look like he had been hit with a static jinx. He spent the whole train ride to Hogwarts jumping from compartment to compartment in search of his soon-to-be best friend, to no avail. He had looked high and low and ignored every other first-year’s attempts at introductions, his single-minded focus blinded him to the many shoulders he bumped and irritated shouts aimed in his direction. He even found the irritating older Black brother roughhousing in a compartment with some other loud gits, but that head of long silken curls was nowhere to be seen. 

As he stood in a line of first-years waiting to be sorted, he bounced on the balls of his feet, craning his head around in search of the elusive figure that haunted his thoughts. The stern looking Professor McGonnagal was working her way down the alphabet when she called out a name that Barty did not recognize, “Regulus Black!” A flurry of whispers rose around them and it became immediately apparent that Barty was not the only pure-blood in the room confused about a third 11 year old member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black attending Hogwarts that year. A shorter boy with beautiful raven curls brushing the nape of his neck and flopping against the ivory skin of his forehead, strolled to the chair with his shoulders pulled back and his chin held high. As he sat, there was a single moment where his slate grey eyes looked out over the room before the hat settled atop his head and shrouded them in shadow. While the moment could not have lasted more than 3 seconds, Barty recognized the pain and fear clouding the boy’s eyes because they were the same emotions he’d noticed etched into the face of the youngest Black. His heart was racing against his ribs and his fingers were twitching with pent up energy, excitement practically overflowing from his every pore. That boy, that boy was the same person he spent hours studying, the same person whose face he had mapped out over the course of one boring event after another. As the hat called out Slytherin house for Regulus Black, Barty smiled wider than he thought possible and silently vowed to befriend Regulus Black and learn everything he could about the boy that captured his attention in a way he feared nothing ever would again. 

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When Barty decided that something belonged to him, he became what some (very dramatic) people would call “unhealthily obsessive”. Obviously Barty wholeheartedly disagreed, it was just the mark of a wonderful (and indispensable) friend to know and anticipate everything his friend could possibly need. From the day that Barty declared Regulus Black to be his, he made sure to pay close attention to every detail. Like the way Regulus’s sweet little nose twitched when he bit back especially cutting words for the sake of propriety. Or how Regulus was ridiculously cranky in the mornings, resembling a particularly ornery troll rather than the poised son of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black; the light in his grey eyes would make an appearance only after a combination of silence and a concerning amount of caffeine in the form of at least 3 cups of Earl Grey and 1 cup of coffee. 

Barty was the first in their friend group to notice the difference between Regulus’s behaviors and mental state at the start of term, leading up to breaks, returning from breaks, and at the close of the school year. 

The first couple of months of their friendship, Regulus was a quiet observer. Getting him to interact with anyone, Barty included, was more difficult than avoiding a sharp bite from a startled baby mandrake. As the term continued, he grew more comfortable with their small group of friends despite his determination to remain isolated from any and every one. By the time the grumpiest member of their group became an active member of society, it was time to return home for their first Yule holiday. For Regulus, the days leading up to the trip home were marked by cruel words, emotional outbursts, accidental magic and bouts of frigid silence. For Barty, Evan, Pandora and Dorcas– those same days were marked by hushed conversations, unspoken words written in their eyes, and increased anxiety at their inability to bring Regulus back from whatever place he was stuck in. When they reunited in the new year, Barty noticed the forced nature of Regulus’s small smiles. He observed the way Regulus’s robes, previously tailored to perfection, were suddenly a few sizes too big, drowning the already small boy in heavy fabric that hung awkwardly off his worryingly thin frame. Barty knew the changes in the boy’s appearance over the period of a few weeks was concerning and grew frustrated that his friends didn’t see the lies hidden in Regulus’s eyes or recognize the hollow nature of his laughter.

The summer leading up to their second year, Barty wrote to Regulus almost daily, and had near-permanent welts and cuts littering his fingers from his family’s irritable owl tiring of Barty’s demands. He remembers the exact amount of letters he received from Regulus in response: four. Regulus sent him four measly letters that contained a whole lot of nothing and read like they had been written by an automaton. At first, Barty was furious. He ached to incendio all the parchment in his home and craved to bombarda the furniture in his family’s sitting room, he muffled his sobs with his comforter at night and woke with pounding headaches each day. Eventually, Barty’s anger transformed into a gnawing worry that sat heavy in his stomach and wrapped tight around his lungs. 

When he finally boarded the Hogwarts Express for their second year, the grip on his lungs lessened and the weight in his stomach transformed into a disgruntled rumble in anticipation of seeing his best friend. When Regulus stepped into their compartment with his dark curls shining under the rays of light that filtered through the window and a small lopsided quirk to his lips, Barty took his first real breath in months and felt a wash of calm that he hardly recognized, settling deep in his soul. 

That calm burned away in a blaze within a day. The morning of their first day back, Barty was awake before Evan and Reggie, his leg bouncing with pent up energy as he waited for them to rise. When Reggie’s curtain finally slid open, Barty’s heart stuttered at the ridiculously adorable image of the smaller boy rubbing at his sleepy eyes with his knuckles. He noticed that Reggie’s button up silk pajama shirt had slipped down his right shoulder and he couldn’t help but turn his focus on the creamy skin that was bared to him. There was a sort of floating bubbly feeling in his stomach as his gaze lingered on the cute dusting of freckles on the top of his shoulder, Barty had never wanted anything as bad as he wanted to trace the constellations in those freckles. Reggie turned to the side to grab his wand, and a blaze of white hot fury spread through him at the sight of the raised red lashes decorating his best friend’s back. Clean lines were etched into his skin, marring his ivory skin. The pieces of the puzzle all slotted together and Barty experienced his first true urge to bring about harm, to make someone bleed and beg for mercy at his hands. A blood-thirsty monster that lay dormant within Barty suddenly awoke with ferocity. He knew Regulus better than any one and instinctively understood the amount of damage he could cause their friendship if he acknowledged the marks. He quickly swallowed down an angry growl and subdued the monster within until the perfect moment he could be released and cause the damage he so craved. 

In the meantime, he followed his only other instinct, that would likely get him a sharp elbow to the nose, and launched himself on top of the sleep rumpled Reggie, cackling loudly at the squeak that spilled from his lips. He stuck by Reggie’s side that entire day and worked harder than usual to make him smile or elicit laughter disguised as guffaws. After a day of ignoring his lessons to plot the murders of Wallburga and Orion Black, Barty was vibrating with a dangerous energy. That night, he got into his first serious fight after Mulciber bumped his shoulder in the hall on the way back to the dorms from dinner. He had never used his fists like a muggle, but spells and jinxes left something to be desired and the feel of Mulciber’s nose crunching beneath his fist was absolutely delicious. He became addicted to the sounds, the feel of his knuckles splitting from the impact, the lick of pain that traveled up his arm and the deep sense of satisfaction as he watched his opponent crumple to the ground in a useless heap. As an almost 13 year old boy, Barty knew that logically, he would not be able to physically pummel the Blacks to a pulp, but each person that found themselves on the wrong side of his outbursts felt like mere practice for the final show. For every altercation Barty was involved in over the following years, he pictured the nasty bitch with the stick wedged so far up her ass it made her mouth pucker like an asshole and the useless husk of a “man” that trailed after her in submission as his adversaries. Everyone knew that Barty was bloodthirsty and many people believed him to be insane, but only Barty knew who his anger was truly directed at and he kept his true motivations hidden because any successful wannabe murderer knew, the less people who know, the more likely he would be in getting away with it. 

His friendship with Regulus evolved over time into the most natural relationship, the two felt like pieces of a puzzle that snapped into place with perfect precision. Barty had always been a little bit in love with Regulus and a part of him knew he always would be. Regulus and Barty were inevitable, their souls were intertwined by fate, their love written in the stars. Regulus and Barty were each other’s first kiss, first date, first boyfriend, first time, first love– first everything. As his love grew, his desire to destroy anything and everything that threatened Regulus’s happiness or dimmed his inner light increased drastically and Barty vowed to always put Regulus first. And, even though no one knew of this vow and there was no one to hold him accountable, Barty would forever keep his promise because his love for Regulus would always inhabit a corner of his heart and there is nothing that Barty would not do to protect the ones he loved.  This held true through the evolution of their relationship, through the addition of Evan and the withdrawal of Regulus, all the way until this moment that was again being threatened by the evil cunts who were more torturers than parents, more jailers than family. 

So, while Barty was in love with Evan and knew that he would spend the rest of his life at Evan’s side– he and Regulus would always be each other’s firsts, and that first love burned bright and steadfast, the scars and memories lingering forever– for Barty, that love had fused with his heart and soul. 

He spent countless hours haunting the dark empty corridors beside Reggie, clinging tight to the heat that wrapped around him in the sweet boy’s presence. 

It was the strength and depth of this love that cemented Regulus as a top priority. That same love had Barty slinking out of the room on uncharacteristically light feet in search of his Reggie. 

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He found Reggie curled up in the fetal position in a hidden alcove that their group frequented for private chats and pockets of silence during hectic days. Barty’s heart ached at the look in Reggie’s eyes– the normally lively grey now looked towards nothing with a vacant stare. He knew what Regulus looked like when he dissociated, but this felt more than that somehow. There was an emptiness in his gaze that terrified Barty, so he did the only thing he could think to do in the moment and crawled behind Regulus’s body, placing his legs around either side of Reggie’s and dragged him back into his embrace in a tight hold while he whispered his favorite moments they shared and told stories about their adventures. He brushed back the smaller boys curls and rubbed his arms in soothing motions. He pressed soft kisses to the sensitive skin behind his ears and trailed gentle lips along his throat. Slowly, he felt the tension in Reggie’s body uncoil and his body melted into his arms as he let himself feel everything that he had been hiding from himself. Barty bit into his cheek hard to maintain control while Reggie let go, he held his best friend steady in his arms as his body shook with silent sobs. Eventually, Reggie’s breathing evened out and his sobs morphed to tiny hiccups which Barty found to be ridiculously adorable (something he would never share with Regulus, he might be crazy but he wasn’t suicidal). 

Barty broke the silence the only way he knew how, “I’m thinking arsenic and then setting fire to Grimmauld but that feels a little uninspired. Would it be too much to locate one of those muggle chainsaws?”

The silence he was met with was stifling, so he kept going, “Remember that movie that Dorcas showed us when we snuck out to her home last summer? With the stupid people in cowboy nation America who were hunted down by the masked man and his chainsaw? I’m picturing that but without a mask, of course and only slightly less deranged.”

Regulus’s voice was hoarse when he spoke, “Bartemius, I have no fucking idea what you are blabbering on about.”

“The best way to murder your parents, of course!” 

Regulus tensed in his arms and turned his body slowly to face Barty. His eyes were red rimmed and his cute nose had turned red from the crying and Barty had to force his hands to stay put lest he boop that rosy nose and lose a finger in the process. Regulus searched Barty’s eyes and must have found what he was looking for when he bent his neck and reached up, pressing his lips to Barty’s in a quick closed mouth kiss. His eyes glimmered as he pulled back and his mouth twitched up in a small smile that quickly transformed into a sweet giggle that he hid with his face pressed into Barty’s neck. “Thank you for considering homicide, you're a wonderful friend mon coeur.” He looked back up at Barty with narrowed eyes, “And if you ever mention that I said that to anyone, even Evan, I will tie you up by your feet and bleed you out like a pig.”

Barty let out a startled laugh and the two fell into a tangled mess of shaking limbs as they laughed, hands curled together and smiles etched into their faces.

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They sat side by side, their thighs touching, legs outstretched in front of them as they thought about the events leading up to the day. Barty cleared his throat before speaking up, “You know that we would never hold you to completing this stupid bet, right?” He kicked the toe of his shoe against Reggie’s before continuing, “As hot as you look in the skirt, your safety is paramount, Reg.”

Regulus let out a wet chuckle, “The skirt won’t change anything either way, B. If it wasn’t this skirt, it would be an O on an exam or a lost game of quidditch, she will always find something wrong with me. At the end of the day, we all know that I am far from the child they wanted, I’m an embarrassment to them no matter what I do or say.” They sat in silence a bit longer, Barty resting his hand comfortingly on Reggie’s bare thigh, the warmth of their skin serving as reassurance for each other. “I’ve been planning it, you know? I never intended to return to Grimmauld this year, I had it all worked out. I’m going to have to speed up my plans and make some adjustments now that they are doling out new threats. I’m going to take them down, B. I’m going to set fire to the Gods forsaken house of Black and watch it burn until nothing is left but ashes and distant fucking memories. When I am done with them, losing their heir will pale in comparison.”

While Regulus spoke, Barty’s grin stretched wide and his hand squeezed around the pale thigh in his grip. “Fuuuuck, Reggie baby, you turn me on when you’re all vengeful and bloodthirsty." Regulus scoffed and then gasped when he saw the truth of Barty’s statement pressing hard against the fabric of his pants. Barty let out a throaty chuckle that caused a shiver to travel up Regulus’s spine. “I have your back, Reg. Just name it, whatever you need, and I will be there with my chainsaw fired up and ready to hack apart some nasty sons of bitches.” Regulus sighed and leaned his head against Barty’s shoulder.

They spent more time in shared silence, Barty’s fingers carding through Regulus’s soft curls until the smaller boy’s breathing evened out and soft snores echoed in the empty alcove. Barty gathered the sleeping angel (if you ignored the fact that the angel was more demonic when awake) in his arms and slowly made his way down to the dungeons where the others had gathered.

He flashed a wink at Evan as he entered their dorm and gently placed Regulus on his bed because there was no shot in hell that Barty or Evan would leave him to sleep alone. Together, Barty and Evan removed Regulus’s shoes and school uniform, replacing his clothes with a pair of Evan’s boxers and one of Barty’s extra large band tees. When they finally fell into bed, one boy on either side of Regulus, their arms wrapped around the smallest boy and they linked their fingers atop his stomach. Barty squeezed Evan’s hand and caught his gaze through the sliver of moonlight, Evan’s mouth turned up in a soft smile and Barty felt his heart melt with contentment as he whispered, “I love you” into the dark. Evan tightened his hold on his hand before his soft snores joined Regulus’s, lulling Barty to sleep.