Chapter Text
Regulus was born into the world quietly and with little fanfare, as the sun dipped below the horizon on a warm summer evening.
Like his older brother before him, his birth was announced proudly to Wizarding society, and soon every influential household had heard the news: another son of the most Noble and Ancient House of Black had been born. Only, the celebrations didn’t last long, and Regulus quickly faded from relevance into the background static with most other pureblood children.
For this he was somewhat grateful, as his youngest years of childhood passed peacefully by with little to note.
No, what he cherished most was the felicity of all the times spent with his brother Sirius, however brief they were, but even then these moments were stained by their parents’ watchful eyes and suffocating instruction, especially towards Sirius.
He was the eldest after all, and therefore the heir to all the power and wealth their ancestors had been carefully accumulating over the course of centuries and the responsibility of ensuring its continued survival and prosperity.
Regulus, on the other hand, was usually referred to as the ‘spare,’ though no one ever called him this to his face. He was never in the spotlight, and his parents always looked at Sirius before him.
Sometimes, Regulus wanted nothing more than to take Sirius’ place.
He hated that line of thinking, but it was hard not to mind.
He only realised his fortuity of being born the second son a long while after Sirius had left for Hogwarts for his first year.
Regulus vividly remembered the way Sirius had smiled at him on the first of September. The way sunlight shone through, flooding the entryway of Grimmauld Place with gold so bright it hurt his eyes. He remembered how Sirius turned and closed the door behind his back with a loud thud, leaving the hallway shrouded in darkness.
He remembered hearing the telling crack of apparition and knew they had left.
For the first few weeks after, Regulus hadn’t heard a word from Sirius, and it became apparent neither did their parents when the first letter since the start of term swooped in via owl as they were having dinner on a cool Wednesday evening.
However, it wasn’t Sirius who had sent it.
“What’s this?” his father sneered, a once crisp letter crushed tightly in his fist. With his other hand, his father took a long gulp of wine, thick and crimson, and hurled it suddenly across the room.
Regulus flinched.
Light caught glass as it shattered, flying everywhere in a rain of crystalline shards. His father’s face was as red as the splattered wine.
“A Gryffindor?” He repeated, like he was tasting the word on his tongue, and found that he never wanted it near him again.
His mother’s knife scraped harshly against her china plate.
“We taught him everything, Orion, nothing will undo that.”
“And what will we say to the other Sacred Houses, hm? I can feel Cygnus’ anger bleeding from this letter already. No, this is a mistake. We must demand they have him resorted.”
“Dumbledore will be an issue.” Her eyes darted to Regulus. “There is no convincing that old fool.”
Regulus lifted his glass, and took a sip of water. The liquid inside trembled, waves rippling across its surface.
The crystal chandelier glimmered above him.
“Regulus.”
His head snapped to his father’s.
“You must be sorted into Slytherin. Do you understand?”
“Yes, father.”
“I said, do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand, father.”
He nodded, seemingly satisfied by Regulus’ response.
“I’ll pull you out of Hogwarts if I have to. I’d rather you be homeschooled for the rest of your life if anything.”
The day Sirius was to return for winter break, the sky was grey and the clouds were heavy with rain soon to fall. The cold fogged up the window by Regulus’ desk, and all he could make out beyond it was the fuzzy reds, whites and yellows from the lights of muggle inventions.
Regulus had run downstairs as soon as he heard the crack of apparition announcing Sirius’ arrival.
At first, Sirius hadn’t noticed Regulus standing at the top of the stairs, but Regulus noticed all the changes that Hogwarts had given his brother.
He wore a Gryffindor-red scarf and was sporting slightly too long ringlets of raven hair which threatened to brush his neck. His posture was still the ramrod straight their parents insisted on, but there was now a relaxed and confident air to how Sirius held himself. His tie was slightly loose, shirt untucked, and his shoes had dirt crusted along the bottom.
Soon, they would merrily run around the townhouse together again, like they always did, laughing as quietly as possible so as not to disturb their parents. He was free from monotonous lessons, even if it was just for a few brief weeks.
He met Sirius' grey eyes, mirroring his own. Only now, his brother’s seemed to have a silver sheen over the usual dull grey.
By Christmastime, Sirius never let a single moment go by without having something to say.
He told Regulus everything there was to know about his time at Hogwarts, and Regulus took all of it in with rapt attention.
Especially Sirius’ favourite story: when he first met James, Remus and Peter. He’d always ramble about the ridiculous amount of sweets they had bought on the train to Hogwarts. How the chocolate frog Peter was trying to eat escaped from his grasp, and the complete mess they made when trying to catch it.
But his brother would always avoid the sorting. Regulus wanted to pry, wanted to know what it was like, what the hat said to him, but when he asked, Sirius just shrugged and moved on.
“And then, James took Snape’s wand right out of his hand! You should’ve seen his face, Merlin, it was so red. It looked like he was about to burst.”
“What?!” Regulus squawked, smiling. They were nestled in a pillow fort in Sirius’ room, constructed with every cushion and pillow in Grimmauld Place, except those in their parents’ rooms and offices.
The sun had just begun to set, and the first flakes of winter snow flurried down. The street lamps outside glowed a rich amber, shining through the bedroom window, like a poor mimicry of the sun on a summer evening, on the cusp of day into night.
“I know! And then Snape reached out for it, demanding and demanding. ‘You give that back, Potter, or else,’ and James ran.” Sirius was guffawing at the memory, cheeks red and eyes teary. “And then Snape was chasing after him. I’ll have you know, that run will forever be ingrained in my head. Get up, get up! I’ll show you!”
He dragged Regulus up by the arms and started to clamber around the room, arms flailing, shouting ‘give it back Potter!” It must’ve been the hardest Regulus had ever laughed, judging by how his stomach began to hurt.
“Did he ever end up getting his wand back?” he asked, trying to suck air back into his lungs.
Sirius stopped, and smiled at Regulus, eyes shining.
“Not after a very, very intense chase, which lasted all of ten minutes. He couldn’t even last ten minutes! Told the professors what happened, panting and all sweaty and red. James ended up losing Gryffindor 15 points. Managed to get himself detention.”
“Detention? What about Snape?” Regulus asked.
“What about him?”
“He started it!”
Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed in thought. The corners of his lips turned downwards.
“Hm, got away with it, I suppose.”
“What?”
“He was the one who snitched. All Slughorn knew was that James had taken his wand and ran off.”
“Didn’t you say what happened?”
“Nah. Slughorn’s the head of Slytherin, didn’t I tell you?”
“He’s still a professor.”
“Yeah, well, we didn’t tell him.”
Sirius slumped back into his spot in the pillow fort, and Regulus followed suit, sitting next to him.
“If you could, would you switch to Slytherin?”
Sirius looked at Regulus like he had said the absolutely worst thing imaginable, and then some. “The Slytherins are awful, Reg.”
“But-”
“There are no ‘buts.’ You’ve not even started Hogwarts yet.”
Regulus frowned. “But, our parents-”
“What about them?”
“They say Slytherin is-” Regulus straightened his back.
“I don’t care. They’re wrong.”
“They wouldn’t lie to us. Why would they?”
Sirius scowled. “Look, I’m telling you now, Gryffindor is the better house, no question about it.”
“Then why won’t you talk about the sorting ceremony?”
Regulus had never seen the expression his brother was currently wearing, at least not directed at him. Closed off. Contemplating. Something akin to anger, but not quite.
Sirius wouldn’t even look at him.
“Go away, Regulus.”
Regulus found he couldn’t move, not even a twitch.
“Please, Reg. I need to be alone.”
His brother’s voice was so soft, so unlike the Sirius he had known since birth. Regulus wanted to help him, but he didn’t know how. He never wanted to hear his brother sound so distraught again. He longed to pretend that none of this ever happened and continue like nothing changed.
But it did, and Regulus was powerless.
All he could do was leave, closing the door behind him with a thud.
As quietly and carefully as possible, he traversed the somber halls back to his own room, and flopped onto his bed.
He didn’t have any pillows. They were all in Sirius’ room.
For as long as Regulus could remember, their parents’ had made it a tradition to decorate Grimmauld Place in festive hues, albeit this was mostly contained within the drawing room. His mother especially always mentioned how her grandparents never did the same, and that Regulus and Sirius should be thankful for all their parents’ efforts.
He watched as garlands floated past him, and as silver ornaments, charmed to shimmer brightly, twirled around the tree, like they were dancing a waltz to music only they could hear until they found their rightful places.
Sirius laughed as he waved his new wand around haphazardly, making baubles do loop-to-loops in the air, and swirl around each other like miniature tornadoes. Kreacher hovered awkwardly around him, eyeing the whizzing ornaments cautiously.
Regulus wanted to help decorate too.
From the bottom of the box of decorations, he dug up the silver star they always placed on the top of the tree, and grinned. He scampered to the tree, which was now completely adorned with ornaments and baubles, all precisely hung.
The tree was much taller than Regulus had anticipated.
There was no way he was going to reach the top, wandless as he was.
Looking around, he spotted an armchair sitting nearby. With more than a small amount of effort, he pushed it next to the tree, and climbed.
He carefully stepped onto the backrest, balancing on his toes. He trembled from the instability. With the star gripped tightly, he stretched his arm towards the top of the tree. He was so close-
“Regulus!”
He jolted. The star fell from his grip, and shattered.
“What in Merlin’s name are you doing!”
His mother’s voice.
“Open your eyes and look at me.”
Sharp and all too familiar.
“I said open your eyes!”
Slowly, he did as he was told to find she was towering over him, her wand pointed right at him. She must have magicked him over. He hadn’t even noticed.
“I asked you a question, Regulus.”
“...what?” he croaked.
Her face was rigid and she didn’t utter a word as she watched him expectantly.
“I just-” His eyes watered. “I wanted to help.”
“You wanted to help,” she mocked. “Look at what your help has done.”
His mother looked over him, with a gaze so sharp that it seemed to pierce through him. He looked down at the floor. Glass shards were scattered everywhere.
“Room. Now.”
He didn’t look back. He didn’t look anywhere really but down at his feet as they carried him to his room as fast as possible.
Only when he was sitting on his bed, did he notice the stinging pain in the soles of his feet, and the bloody footprints spattered on the wooden floorboards.
Kreacher had helped patch him up as best he could, and cleaned up the bloody mess he had left behind him. Regulus thanked the house elf, and for the days following, tried to ignore the lingering stinging that accompanied every step.
It was Christmas Eve the first time Regulus heard Sirius argue properly with their parents. Not like when they were small children, attempting to throw a tantrum, only for mother to completely smother their attempt with harsh scolding and cruel threats, and with it any future incidents.
No, it was nothing like that.
He couldn’t make out what it was they were actually saying beyond muffled shouts and livid exclamations, before father silently cracked open the door to find Regulus standing guiltily outside. He sent him upstairs to his room with a sharp glare, and Regulus tried his best to fall asleep that night.
The following morning, Regulus was the first one awake. In previous years, he’d usually barge his way into Sirius’ bedroom first, then knock politely on his parents’ but he refrained from doing so this year. He didn’t want to risk their parents’ ire any more than Sirius already had.
Instead, he opted to sit patiently in the drawing room, staring fixedly at the star-shaped bauble near the base of the tree as he waited. It shimmered shyly under the shade of the above branches.
“Regulus? What are you doing?”
Sirius stood smiling with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe. Regulus noted the tiredness etched into his face.
“Are you okay, Sirius? I heard you talking with mother and father last night-”
“Of course I am! It’s Christmas! Happy Christmas Reg!”
Regulus tried his best not to frown. “Happy Christmas, Sirius."
Sirius’ eyes darted around the room. “Are mother and father awake yet?”
“I’m not sure. We should probably get them.”
“What?”
“Mother and father?”
“Right, yeah. You’re right. Of course.”
Sirius sat down as Regulus stood up to leave. His head was tilted upwards, staring at the repaired star at the top of the tree.
The soles of Regulus’ feet twinged as he left alone to find their parents.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Every year, Regulus’ family hosted a New Year Eve Gala, which was filled to the brim with elites and socialites alike. Previously, Regulus wasn’t permitted to attend, given he was much too young, despite the fact Sirius had been attending a few years now, but finally now he was invited too.
His parents stuffed him in a button-up shirt, with oppressive, billowing robes heavily draped over him, adorned with silver cufflinks and other such things he couldn’t care less about.
Sirius, on the other hand, seemed much more at ease in his dress robes, as he mingled with the crowd, leaving Regulus to linger awkwardly on the outskirts. His brother was outfitted similarly to him, except his cravat was pulled looser, and his hair mussled. How Sirius was getting away with it all, he had no idea.
The night crawled slowly by, painfully so. It seemed people had little interest in entertaining a lost-looking child.
Through the tall, looming windows lining the edge of the ballroom, Regulus could see a myriad of stars. The manor itself was located somewhere in the southwest of England, far enough from the city so that the stars shined brighter than from Grimmauld place, for which he was grateful. If it weren’t for all those muggle lights all over London, he’d be able to see the stars all the time.
He easily spotted Sirius’ star and nearby was the moon, full and round, shining a familiar silver through the glass.
“Reggie! My baby cousin! Aw, it’s your first isn’t it, baby Black?”
With all the noise, he struggled to find the source of the voice, but finally his eyes landed on Bellatrix and her barely-tamed ebony curls. He cleared his throat.
“My first what?”
“Your first party, is it not?” Her eyes flickered around the room, before landing back on Regulus and switched to a whisper. “Are you going to follow your brother’s footsteps then? Oh, but how disappointed everyone would be in you!”
He couldn’t believe her bluntness. Nobody had spoken of his brother’s failure aloud so brutally, so upfront. Though it was no shock Bella was the first to do so.
“I guess Sirius, er-”
“Aw, Reggie, talking about me, are you? Where have you been! I’ve been searching all over for you!”
Regulus barely managed to stop himself from letting out the biggest sigh of relief. “Where were you? You weren’t in the crowd.”
“Hush, now, Reggie. That’s a secret,” Sirius said, winking. “You should join, though, next time, it’s much more fun than all this drivel.”
“A secret?” Bellatrix cackled, all shrilly. Several people nearby flinched. “Everyone knows you were with Andromeda. Where do you go, hm? What are you two up to?”
The crowd glanced at them briefly, at the mention of Andromeda, but when Bellatrix glared right back, they turned away.
Sirius rolled his eyes. “Oh, sod off. It’s none of your business.”
“If you’re getting with my sister-”
“That is beyond vile, Bella. She’s my cousin, for Merlin’s sake!”
“And so are your parents, but that didn’t stop them-”
Sirius scoffed, grabbing Regulus’ arm. “I can’t deal with you right now, come on Reg.”
Bellatrix smirked behind them as they left, sharp teeth and all.
Sirius had led them out to the garden, for which Regulus was very grateful for.
Chilling air invaded his lungs with each breath. The forests surrounding the manor and the gardens were pitch black, save for a few trees near an enchanted lamp post. It was as if the night sky had never ended, but surrounded them on all fronts, encompassing the manor in a wall of starless abyss.
“Hey, look, it’s your namesake.”
Eyes squinting, he tried to follow his older brother’s pointed finger towards the sky. All he could see was a smattering of stars, the round moon, and Sirius’ star.
“Don’t tell me you can’t even find your own star.”
Regulus huffed, cheeks dusted red.
“I’ve taught you so many times already! Nevermind. Do you remember which constellation it’s in at least?”
He rolled his eyes. “Of course I know, I’m not dim. Regulus is the brightest star in Leo.”
“Exactly! You just need to find Leo.”
“And how exactly do I do that?”
“It looks like a sickle, kind of. Do you remember from that one book?”
“Yes, but it’s impossible to find even when I know the shape. There’s too many stars.”
Sirius gasped, hands on his chest in mock horror. “How can you say such a thing, Reg? Too many stars? I’d say, there’s not enough.”
For what felt like an age, Sirius tried to teach Regulus how to find it once more, but he just couldn’t manage it. He was too tired and his vision blurred. He could easily find Sirius’, wasn’t that enough?
They were taking so long, that the lights inside the manor had begun to dim, the bustling noise and chatter died down, and they could hear the muffled sounds of their parents calling for them from inside.
Still, Sirius stubbornly kept pointing up, trying to align Regulus’ eyes with his.
“Oh! I can see it!” Regulus lied, with feigned surprise.
“About time!” Sirius turned to look down at him. “I knew you could do it. Now just try not to forget, yeah? A bit embarrassing not being able to find your own namesake.”
Sirius smiled.
Regulus took his hand, and smiled too.
Life was very uneventful while Sirius was away again at Hogwarts.
Time was long and languid, dragging torturously slow as days blended together, becoming weeks, then months. The monotony was even worse than it was during the winter term. He had a taste of days with Sirius and his endless stories, and now the tedious studying could never compare.
Sirius even left the snitch he stole from Hogwarts with Regulus, which he loved, but after fetching the gilded ball hundreds, possibly thousands, of times, he had learnt its movements and the thrill of catching it disappeared when there was no one to watch all the tricks he learnt. Even Mr Tauris had begun to notice Regulus’ sheer boredom.
The air outside became hot and clinging, searingly so. Just as Regulus was beginning to lose his mind, he heard that familiar thud of the front door, and raced downstairs to see the same image, of Sirius standing at entry hall, trunk in hand, waving up to him, finished with his first year of Hogwarts.
Smiling was easier when it was just them, but Sirius had found more and Regulus just wanted to find whatever Sirius had.
When the fateful day that was the first of September had finally arrived, excitement was an understatement of what was buzzing through Regulus.
Platform 9¾ was all hustle and bustle. Parents all around waved tearfully goodbye, and children lugged large trunks towards the train, laughing and shouting something he couldn’t make out.
His mother stood poised and absolutely still, an arm away in front of him.
Where did Sirius go? Was he waiting for Regulus? Had he found his friends already?
His mother placed her hands on his shoulders, digging painfully. Her eyes bored into his, searching for something in him then quickly shifted onto something behind him, and she sighed as she stood up straight again and let go of him.
He turned to see Sirius standing at the door of the train, gesturing for Regulus to join him. Three other boys he didn’t recognise were with him, each carrying large trunks and laughing loudly like they were the only ones there. They must’ve been James, Peter and Remus.
“Off you go now. Be sure to write. I look forward to hearing good news this time, Regulus.”
He waved goodbye as he lugged his trunk towards his train, towards his brother.
Once they had finally found an empty compartment, Regulus was huddled in the corner by the window, the view of the platform still outside. His brother and all his friends sat a bit too claustrophobically close for Regulus, but he just shrugged the feeling off.
Sirius and his friends caught up, asking each other about their summers, and what they got up to. James had been practising flying and watched the World Cup, Peter visited family, and Remus mostly spent the summer with his mother.
This was the infamous James Potter? He was about Sirius’ height, but with mussed chestnut hair and gold-rimmed glasses. There was an easy going air around him, similar to Sirius’ but at the same time so much more blasé and carefree.
Peter was shorter than the other boys, but still had a solid inch over Regulus. He had mousy brown hair, a pointed nose, and pale skin rivalling Regulus’ own. He was nowhere as loud as Sirius and James, though that was impossible to beat.
Remus, on the other hand, only got a few words out during the entire conversation. His hair was a shade lighter than Peter’s, messy in a way his parents would never allow. What shocked Regulus the most though, was the scarring on his face. He didn’t get a good look at it until now, and it was gruesome. He wondered how he had gotten them, but was too afraid to ask.
Soon the train whistled and began to move.
“This is the younger brother, Sirius? You still haven’t introduced us! Regulus, isn’t it? I’m James. James Potter.”
“Oh yeah. My bad,” Sirius said. “This is Regulus, my brother. Regulus, this is James, Peter and Remus.”
He gestured to each boy in turn as he listed their names.
“So, about that broom James,” Sirius asked slyly, breaking the brief awkward silence. “Which model are you thinking of getting? Maybe it’s better to let me take care of it for a bit, while you practice a bit more. You’d probably crash it in the first week. No, the first day-”
“Oi! You’re the one who fell off his broom in our first lesson!”
“That was your fault!”
“Like hell it was!”
Before long, the compartment dissolved into a cacophony of laughter and shouts. James and Sirius must have said another unbelievably funny story, given how loudly they were guffawing. Remus and Peter just laughed along, jutting into the conversation every now and again.
Regulus opted to turn to the window and watched the stretching green fields of England tumble past and the trees whip by dizzyingly.
“So Regulus!” He snapped his head at the mention of his name, only to find James staring right at him. “How are you feeling? It’s your first day after all!”
He blinked. “Nervous, I suppose…”
“I remember being pretty nervous too, but really there’s nothing to be worried about,” James said.
“Well, there’s the-” Regulus paused as he realised he was just about to mention that forbidden, dreadful topic: the Sorting. James gave a concerned glance at Sirius. They must have caught onto what Regulus was about to broach, and seemed to have a whole conversation during that one brief look, until Sirius nodded gently.
“The sorting, huh?” James said as he looked back at Regulus expectantly. They all did, his brother’s gaze the heaviest of all.
The train chugged quietly along.
He was desperate to break the stifling silence but all he could think of was the sound of shattering glass.
All he managed was a weak nod.
“You’d love Gryffindor, Reg,” Sirius said. “Trust me.”
“But, our parents said-” he whispered.
“For the love of- You always-! Who cares what they say? I’m sick of it.”
“Oi, lay off him.” Remus interrupted. “It’s not like he gets a say where he ends up.”
“Actually, I heard you can just ask and the hat’ll sort you to wherever you want with enough convincing.”
“Pete, you're really not helping.”
Sirius whipped his head to Peter. “Wait, that’s a thing? Why didn’t you say so earlier?”
Knock knock knock!
The door clicked open, and Regulus almost cried out in relief.
“Hello, dears, I hope I’m not interrupting. Would you like anything off the trolley?”
A kind-looking woman was standing at the open door, with a mountain of sweets in front of her, half of which Regulus didn’t think he’d ever seen before.
The other boys looked at each other, mischievous grins plastered across their faces.
“Oh yes!” Sirius said. “Hmm, let’s see. I think we’ll have chocolate frogs, yeah? One each? We have to get those beans! Bertie Bott’s, right? You all chickened out last year. James, what do you think?”
“Yeah, don’t be cowards like last time. They’re actually really good, well, only if you get lucky I suppose.”
“You’ll join right, Regulus?” asked Sirius.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll join.”
“See! We Blacks aren’t cowards like the rest of you. Here, try this one Reg. It says it could either be lemon or earwax…”
Hogwarts was exactly as Sirius had described and more.
The uncomfortable, hard wood of the enchanted boats as they glided across the lake and that awful aftertaste from an earwax flavoured jellybean was quickly forgotten when he saw the school for the first time. The castle was perched atop a rocky cliff, with dizzyingly tall spires and turrets alike, overlooking the dense forests and inky waters surrounding it.
Other first years surrounding him buzzed at the sight, their excited chattering ringing through the cool evening air.
Soon they arrived at the castle entrance.
The interior of the castle was no less impressive than the view from the lake.
The Great Hall was illuminated overhead by dozens and dozens of floating candles, and the starry night sky where he knew the ceiling should’ve been.
The decor at pureblood balls and parties couldn’t compare, Sirius had always said. Those parties had no imagination. It was a complete waste of magic. All that power in their hands, only to do nothing interesting with it.
And now, Regulus saw with his own eyes that his brother was right. He never doubted Sirius’ word of course, but it was one thing to hear about it, and another to see it. No wonder Sirius had fallen so in love with Hogwarts.
All the first years were ushered along and lined up at the front of the Great Hall, where four long tables stretched behind them, each filled to the brim with students already seated and waiting, all wearing differently coloured robes. He didn’t really recognise anyone else amongst the first years, other than the ones he had politely greeted on the boat, though their family names didn’t ring any bells. Unlucky. Though he did catch sight of the characteristic platinum hair of House Rosier, that was all.
The hall was alive with laughter and mindless chatter, the clamour reverberating against the thick stone walls of the castle. Portraits warmly greeted students instead of the usual cold scrutiny Regulus was so accustomed to at home. Ghosts wandered between the tables listlessly, making dramatic gestures for conversations Regulus couldn’t hear.
But then, a professor stood up, and the noise almost immediately ceased.
The only words he really heard from that professor’s mouth were the final ones: “Let the sorting begin!”
He supposed he should have paid greater attention to the entire thing, but he couldn’t stop the way his heart raced, nor the way his chest tightened.
“Eloise Alton!”
He couldn’t stop the trembling racking through his body. Seconds dragged torturously into minutes, before the hat finally announced:
“Hufflepuff!”
The yellow table behind him roared suddenly, cheering and whooping, as the girl walked towards the boisterous table.
Was it going to be like this for every sorting? Every eye in the hall trained on the head the Sorting Hat was sat upon? A few more names were called, none of which he recognised. Though, in all honesty, he wasn’t really listening.
“Regulus Black!”
His eyes snapped up to the professor at the front. Already?
He swallowed as he walked shakily up to the front, and carefully sat down. He lifted his head, and the entire school looked back at him.
He easily spotted Sirius in the crowd, who was smiling at him eagerly, nodding his head encouragingly. At the green table, he caught sight of the familiar pale blonde hair of his cousin, Narcissa. She only looked at him intently, her expression giving away nothing.
And then, after what felt like an age, the hat was placed on his head. Immediately, he could feel the magic of the hat probing through his head, sifting through his thoughts like sand. He hated the feeling.
“Regulus Black… Another Black? I remember sorting your brother, Sirius Black. An easy one to sort. You, however…”
He held his breath.
“Hm, Regulus Black… Clever, aren’t you? A bookish one. You could do well as a Ravenclaw… Then again, maybe not.”
What about Gryffindor? Regulus thought helplessly, thinking back to Peter’s words. With my brother?
“Is that what you really want?”
It’s what he wants.
“That is not what I asked.”
The hall was dead silent, as it was for every person getting sorted, but it felt different now that it was him up here. He longed for the chatter to start up again, for everyone to forget about the sorting, about him, if only to quieten his racing thoughts.
“You are… determined. But what are you determined to do, Regulus Black? What are you determined for?”
The stars above twinkled, and Regulus found his eyes landing instinctively on Sirius’ star. Familiar words repeated in his head, chanting like a mantra. Sirius’ words, Mr Tauris’, his mother’s, his father’s, Bella’s-
My parents want me to be a Slytherin.
“Yes, I would expect as much… Much thought you have put into this one moment, and all the plans you’ve made. This means a lot to you.”
The hat paused, and that terrible feeling only intensified.
“Nonetheless, a decision must be made. How much are you willing to give, Regulus Black?”
At first, he didn’t know what it meant at all, but that feeling in his mind kept climbing, like it was clawing through his thoughts themselves.
Then, out of nowhere, a single word burned through him, blazing through his veins and thumping heart.
Everything.
The hat shifted, and the constant probing in his mind had finally ceased.
“How interesting. Your brother said the same thing.”
Regulus let out the breath he was holding, trying not to hyperventilate. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut.
“Better be…”
The hat shifted one last time.
“Slytherin!”
Regulus’ stomach dropped. The hat was lifted from his head, and without its weight, he felt as if he was going to topple over at any moment.
This was the best outcome, wasn’t it? He was still Sirius’ brother, no matter the fact they were in different Houses.
But when he looked towards the Gryffindor table, ignoring the roaring applause from its green counterpart, he found Sirius’ head stubbornly turned away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.
Regulus couldn’t do this. Regulus had to do this.
He buried it all, desperately so, deep into the recesses of his mind, as far as he could reach, sweeping away every thought and emotion and shoving it all away into some hidden compartment in his mind. Regulus slammed the door shut on it.
And then, he strode calmly to Slytherin’s table on weak legs, grinning.