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Chapter Text

Regulus Black, 11 Years Old

Sirius left last year. Not forever, not completely, but for long enough that it felt as though the earth may open up below Regulus and swallow him whole if he didn't toe the line just so . Life at Grimmauld Place had never been perfect; it had never been good, even. But it was worse when Sirius wasn't there. 

   Perhaps it was because Regulus was alone and he didn't have his older brother's stupid jokes and mindless pranks to keep him entertained. Or perhaps it was because without Sirius' rebellious acts, his parents' attention was solely focused on him. Either way, the hallways felt too dark, and the rooms all felt too big and empty. It was like there was a Sirius-sized hole in Regulus' life when he was gone, and it hurt. Merlin, Morgana and Circe herself, it hurt more than anything he'd experienced before. 

   And then Sirius came home. 

   But it was different. 

   Sirius, bright ball of energy that he was, gushed about all of his new friends that he'd made at Hogwarts. He prattled on about 'James Potter', 'Remus Lupin’, and 'Peter Pettigrew.' Regulus thought they seemed nice enough from how Sirius had described them, but when he had seen the screaming match between their parents and Sirius? He changed his mind in that instant. Surely anyone who garnered such a reaction from Walburga and Orion must be bad, right? Especially when it ended with Sirius getting three particularly harsh rounds of the cruciatus curse. 

   So Sirius didn't mention his friends after that, nor did Regulus ask about them. 

   One evening, while Regulus was readying himself for bed, Sirius knocked on his bedroom door. He knew it was Sirius by the sound of his footsteps on the floorboards outside and the gentle wrap of his knuckles on the solid oak door. Not like the heavy clicking of Walburga's heels on the floorboards, followed by metal chinking against the wood as her rings smacked into it when she knocked. Or Orion's heavy and calculated steps - he always missed the creaky floorboards, but Regulus could tell it was him all the same, and then one sharp, heavy knock on the door. No, Sirius was light on his feet, and his knock was gentle. 

   So Regulus smoothed down his pink nightdress, which made the tips of his ears burn just as pink, as he had not yet told his parents the truth. He was too scared. Rightly so, if his parents' reactions to 'those Prewett twins' being in relationships with other men were anything to go by. Still, he couldn't think about that now; his brother needed him. And Regulus opened the door slowly, peering up at his brother slightly, who had started his growth spurt already while he was away at school, it seemed, and had grown to be a foot taller than Regulus already. 

   "Siri?" Regulus asked in that voice of his, which was higher-pitched than he'd like, though he supposed he might pass as a boy if he kept his hair up, or cut it off altogether when he got to Hogwarts. 

   "Hi Dee, you okay?" Sirius asked, reaching out to ruffle Regulus' hair, causing Regulus to pout up at him, "hey... what's that face about?"

   "I-" Regulus started, but his throat grew too thick with emotion and his tear ductsstung with unshed tears. 

   "Hey, hey... come on, let me in," Sirius pressed, and he put a hand on Regulus' shoulder, guiding him back inside his own room, leading him to the bed as if Regulus needed help with that. 

   But once the door was closed and the two of them were sitting on Regulus' bed, he broke down. He threw his arms around his big brother and just sobbed into his chest. Sirius was startled, though not surprised, and he just held Regulus close, rubbing his back. Sirius had known something was wrong when their parents had talked about 'their beautiful daughter going off to Hogwarts', and Sirius couldn't help but wonder if Regulus was worried about going to school. 

   "What is it, little star?" Sirius asked, his words half-muffled by Regulus' thick, dark hair, "are you worried about going to Hogwarts?"

   Regulus took a shaky breath and looked up at his brother, his bottom lip quivering still as he tried to steady himself. 

   "I am, but-" Sirius cut Regulus off with a tight embrace and a soft chuckle, stroking his hair gently, which had always soothed him. 

   "You don't have to worry about Hogwarts... you'll love it there. You can get away from this miserable old house, and you'll find loads of friends, too. You'll get to meet other girls your age-" Sirius was stunned when Regulus let out a sharp groan of frustration, but he shut his mouth and let the younger of the two Black siblings speak. 

    Finally, someone was letting Regulus speak!

   "I'm not a girl!" he protested, his pale face contorted in anguish, his eyebrows pinched and eyes all screwed up, tears sliding down his cheeks, which were growing more hollow as he grew up, a fact which saddened Sirius as his younger sibling was getting older. 

   "You- huh?" Sirius asked, tilting his head to the side as he considered Regulus. 

   "I'm not... I'm not a girl. I know I'm not. I can't- I can't be. It doesn't feel right! And... and I'm not Denebola... I- I'm-" Regulus let out a soft sob and tried to dry his eyes, "I'm- I'm Regulus."

   Sirius was floored. 

   It took him a moment to process what he had just heard, let alone understand it. He'd been introduced to muggle artists who used clothing other than what was societally accepted as made for their gender, and there were countless gay or lesbian people he'd heard about, too. But... his little sister was saying she wasn't a girl? His- his little brother, he mentally corrected himself. 

   "Regulus, hm? Still in the Leo constellation..." Sirius murmured thoughtfully, tapping his chin as he glanced down at Regulus, whose cheeks were all red and blotchy, and the sight broke his heart, "hey... don't cry. Don't cry, Regulus." 

   Regulus felt his heart racing as Sirius called him his real name. Don't cry, Regulus. And it eased his heartache. The tears seemed to slow down, not stopping completely, but it was working. Just hearing that name come from someone else's lips... it felt freeing. 

   "You... you're not mad at me?" Regulus asked in a quiet, timid voice, which made Sirius so mad, so mad at everyone who wasn't him, his sweet little brother, for making Regulus feel he was anything but perfect. 

   "I could never be mad at you, little star. It might take me some getting used to, though, alright? But I always wanted a little brother," Sirius murmured and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Regulus' head, "you are... you're my little brother, right?" 

   "Yeah... yeah I am," Regulus beamed up at him, with his mostly adult teeth now, still a little crooked and gappy where they were growing in fully, "you're the first one I've told... but that's- that's what I'm afraid of. Going to school... not being me."

   "I'll send an owl to McGonagall... she'll know what to do. I promise you, Reggie," Sirius murmured and hugged his brother close. 

   Reggie. His first boy nickname. His heart practically soared at that. 

   "You... you will? I-I haven't even got my letter yet, though," Regulus murmured, still seeming a little starry-eyed and awestruck at the nickname, which Sirius decided he would always use, just to see that reaction. 

   "The letters will be coming out soon, Reggie. I'll owl her now, okay? I'll explain it all. She can help. She's... she's really good, I promise you," there was a slight loss of the twinkle in Sirius' eye, a wistful look on his face as he spoke about how good his Head of House was, but he kept that charming smile on his face all the same, "she'll sort it. Now... it might not be safe for you to cut your hair or anything yet... but did you want one of my pyjama sets? I've got some old ones that don't fit me much." 

   Regulus' little heart was growing twice, three times and four times the size, he was sure of it. He'd gone from being terrified that his big brother would ridicule him or shout at him when he told him his true identity, but it hadn't happened. And now he was happy. Beaming from ear to ear with that toothy little grin of his, grey eyes shining with adoration for his older brother. Now? He was going to have boy pyjamas! He was ecstatic, and he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to repay the kindness which Sirius had shown. 

   "Thank you, thank you, thank you," Regulus repeated the words like a prayer or a hymn, his joy radiating off of him in waves, to the point that the dying flowers in the vase on his nightstand re-bloomed, another tick in the accidental magic book, and it just made him happier. 

   He would wear his big boy pyjamas to bed, and his big brother would send an owl to the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts and explain the situation. Regulus would attend Hogwarts as Regulus Arcturus Black, not as Denebola Walburga Black. Like all bright stars, Denebola Walburga had died, and in her stead, Regulus Arcturus was born.

James Potter, 12 Years Old

Sirius had gone home. Home was a loose term where Sirius' house was concerned, and James knew all about it. The first time he'd seen Sirius with his top off in the showers, James hadn't had the same awkward feelings blossoming in his chest like when he'd seen Benjy Fenwick whip his top off for a dip in the lake... no, James had been horrified. Sirius was lean and pale, his ribs sticking out, and each vertebra was visible along his slender spine. But what was worse was that littering his pale, perfect skin were deep purple bruises and shiny silver scars. They weren't scars one could get from just having a tumble in the underbrush with a younger sibling, as Sirius had tried to tell him. 

   Those were angry wounds which had scarred over. Deliberate, forceful injuries. 

   James had begged him for weeks on end to say something to someone. Anyone. Until finally Sirius, older than James by just a few months, hung his head and slumped his shoulders and trailed after James towards McGonagall's office. 

   What James had been expecting was for McGonagall to say Sirius couldn't return home. That he could stay with James, or he could stay at Hogwarts. Something. Anything other than the alternative of returning to that hellhole of a townhouse in Islington. It was nothing more than a gilded cage, a facade covering up monstrosities within. 

   But it hadn't happened like that. 

    Of course it hadn't. 

   James had told McGonagall all about the scars and injuries he'd seen on Sirius, and Sirius had simply clammed up. He hadn't been able to say a word. James had been red in the face, trying to wrestle with the older boy to show her, if he couldn't voice the words. But Sirius had refused, he'd retreated, tears burning in silver eyes, and he looked so scared. He'd never seen the boy scared in the months they'd been roommates. But he was petrified.

   "Mr Potter, I will ask you only once: unhand Mr Black at once. And please excuse us, while I speak with Mr Black alone," McGonagall had said in her thick Scottish accent. 

   James had tried to protest, but when he saw the stern yet sympathetic look in McGonagall's eyes and the shellshocked look splattered across Sirius' usually cocky face, he had nodded and left. But not without one final look over his shoulder to find McGonagall placing a wisened hand on Sirius' shoulder. 

   After asking Sirius about it that evening, Sirius had gone very quiet, only wishing to speak with James about it when they were away from the rest of their little group. McGonagall had told him about different options, but Sirius couldn't leave home. Not yet. Not when his little sister was all alone at home. James had seen the letters from Sirius' sister. Sweet, heartfelt letters talking about how the young girl missed her big brother, how she wished he were home, or rather wished she could be at Hogwarts with him. 

   James was entirely out of his depth in trying to understand Sirius' position. He'd been an only child to kind, ageing parents who didn't have much family they still spoke to, so he'd certainly been privileged in the comfort and care he received, but he was woefully lacking in knowing what it was like to care for a younger relative. All of his cousins were much older, on account of their parents having had them much younger than Euphemia and Fleamont had brought James into the world. 

   But he knew the fierce loyalty and protectiveness Sirius was talking about. He felt it towards his parents, and he felt it towards Sirius and Remus and Peter. So when the group had been on the train on the way back to London for the summer, James had made Sirius promise him three things:

1. He would write every day.
2. He would look after Denebola.
3. He would keep his head down and not cause any waves - he had to return unharmed, James couldn't bear it if he didn't. 

As James sat in the living room at Potter Manor with his parents one evening, he noticed an owl tapping at the window with its beak. He got up and made his way over, casting a glance over his shoulder at his parents, who were listening to the wireless, their slightly wrinkled hands entwined with each other as they basked in the ambience of the cool summer night. 

   James fumbled with the letter attached to the owl's leg, handing the owl a treat before unfolding the letter. It was from Sirius. 

‘Alright, Jamie?

Lots has happened since I wrote last. I'm all good, except for a tongue-lashing. I'm a-okay, actually. One thing, though... when we get on the train in September, I won't have a sister joining me like we thought, like we planned for. Nothing bad has happened, promise. Something really, really good, actually. 

   I have a little brother now. His name's Regulus. I call him Reggie. Parents don't know, and I'm sure they'll freak when they find out, but he's happy and healthy. Happy as he can be right now. I've owled McGonagall to let her know. But I want him to start school as his true self, so I wanted there to be someone who can immediately say hi to him, not her, if you get what I mean. Hence, me owling you so late. 

   But anyway... enough about that, how are you? You said you were going to be watching the Harpies soon. Has that happened? Tell me all about it. 

Yours,

Si’

James sat for a moment, reading over the letter a few times. He chewed the inside of his cheek and ran a hand through his hair. He thought back to that day on the platform when he'd said goodbye to Sirius. To the scared little girl - no, boy - hiding behind Walburga Black, the terrifying and formidable woman who was Sirius' mother. James had to admit that Regulus suited him much better than Denebola did. Who even named their child that? Monsters, which the Blacks were, it seemed. 

   At least Regulus had Sirius. And Sirius had been keeping true to his promises, it seemed. Looking after his little brother, looking after himself and keeping his head down. 

   "Hey, mamãe ?" James called back to his mother, who was sitting beside his father, and she turned to face him, her tanned, slightly wrinkled face splitting into a warm smile as she looked at him. 

   "Yes, meu amor ?" she asked, her warm hazel eyes flickering in the dim lamplight of the evening.

   "Do you know anyone who... doesn't fit their gender when they were born?" James asked, walking back over to the armchair opposite his parents and sitting down. 

   That was one of the biggest bonuses James had in life. He could ask his parents anything. Anything. And they would answer, or they'd find the answer if they didn't know it straight away. Euphemia Potter, née Santos, glanced across at her son, a contemplative look crossing her face for a moment before she shifted in her chair, sitting up a little and patting Fleamont's knee as he glanced between the two of them, just watching the exchange. 

   "Well... there is a lady in the Department for Magical Law Enforcement who used to be a man, is that what you mean, meu amor ?" Euphemia asked, tilting her head to the side as if assessing James a little closer, wondering if perhaps she had missed something, somewhere. 

   "I guess so... my friend Sirius just sent me a letter. Here," James got up and walked over to his parents, handing them the letter. 

   As the pair read the letter, a myriad of emotions seemed to flicker over their features. Confusion, perhaps, was the first one. Then understanding. Then happiness or something close to it - pride, perhaps? And then concern and fear. James knew he didn't know everything about life, but he really wasn't sure why they looked so concerned. 

   "And these are the Black children? Walburga and Orion's boys?" Fleamont asked calmly, his pale face seeming a little more pale now, even more than it usually did in comparison with Euphemia's bronzed skin. 

   "Yes... Yeah, Sirius and Regulus," James nodded, his brows furrowing slightly at the careful, forced calmness that Fleamont seemed to be using. 

   "That poor boy will be in for it if his parents find out... and it says that Sirius has already sent a letter to McGonagall? I suppose you won't know any more than we do. But it would be best if he reminded McGonagall to address letters to Regulus' previous name... otherwise there could be hell to pay, Jamie, meu amor," Euphemia explained thoughtfully, and it hit James then.

   Sirius was intelligent, but he could also be really bloody stupid. It wouldn't surprise him if he had left that part out of the letter to McGonagall. 

   So James hurried over to the writing desk in the corner and scrawled out a letter in perhaps the messiest handwriting of his life, but he was rushing. He just hoped that he got the letter to Sirius quickly enough. 

   When James Potter went to bed that night, all he could think of was the scared little boy on the train station platform. The same one who had signed off all of his letters to his older brother with 'Little Star', even before he'd been brave enough to come out. Regulus had clearly always known who he was, or he had done so for much longer than Sirius or James knew, and James only hoped that Sirius could keep him safe from his parents' tyrannical rule.

Chapter Text

Regulus Black, 11 Years Old

A few days had passed since Regulus' conversation with Sirius, and he felt lighter, as if he could hold his head high as he walked around the house - even if he knew he couldn't say a word to his parents yet. It was too difficult, too dangerous. But Sirius knew. And whenever the pair were alone, Sirius made sure to use his name, his real name, more often than he probably ever would have done before with his old name. It felt nice. 

   Sunlight filtered in through the slightly parted curtains covering Regulus' bedroom window, and he sat up in bed, wiping the sleep from his eyes and then scrubbing a hand over his face, which he had noticed sported a few blemishes these days. When he had spoken to Sirius about it, Sirius had just told him that it meant he was growing up, getting older, and he would start noticing all sorts of changes. 

   The thing was... Regulus knew that most of those changes would work against him. He would start filling out in places he wished would stay flat forever, and he wasn't likely to get the hairs that Sirius had on his top lip these days. It was all going to start developing wrongly, and Regulus just couldn't stand it. The thought of having to look in the mirror and see... he couldn't bear to think about it. 

   So he didn't. 

   Instead, he threw back the covers and padded across the floor to his bedroom door, pulling the door open and stepping out into the narrow hallway, which was far too cold for a summer's morning. It was always too cold in the haunted halls of Grimmauld Place. Well, the halls weren't actually haunted, but it felt like they were. Portraits of long-dead relatives lined the walls, as well as a particularly vile wall of shelves which housed the shrunken severed heads of those relatives' house elves. It was barbaric, and it made Regulus feel positively ill. 

   But it was so ingrained in the family and in the house elves which served them, to the point that even Kreacher, the current family house elf, prattled on to anyone who would listen about how one day he would earn his spot on that wall - once he had served the family dutifully for years. 

   It broke poor Regulus' heart when he heard that for the first time. He had always had a soft spot for the wrinkled, grumpy creature who made his breakfast in the mornings. It had been Kreacher who patched him and Sirius up if they fell and scraped their knees in the garden; it had been Kreacher who had baked all the birthday cakes over the years; it had also been Kreacher who had been there to comfort Regulus when Sirius went off to Hogwarts the previous September. 

   Those sorts of things were deemed as unseemly by Walburga and Orion, who parented from afar or with an iron fist and nothing in between. 

   When Regulus got into the bathroom, he peered into the mirror above the sink and groaned at the sight of a particularly ghastly pimple on his chin and a few smaller ones around his mouth. It was definitely beginning , he thought to himself, the beginning of the end . 

   But he pulled his new pyjama shorts down - new to him, a hand-me-down from his lovely older brother, Sirius - and sat on the toilet to go about his usual morning activities. But when he looked down at his white cotton underwear, he felt sick. There was blood in his underwear. A small patch of red on the white cotton, which seemed to bloom outwards, was a warning signal. He panicked for a moment, thinking something terrible was happening. Was he dying? Would he never get to escape this awful house? 

   But then-

   Oh. 

    Oh. 

    It truly was beginning. 

   Regulus wiped himself after going about his business and then bundled up some tissue and wedged it in his underwear before pulling his shorts up - thankfully, they were black, so no one would be able to tell if any of it had leaked. Then he washed his hands and his face and headed out of the bathroom, hurrying as silently as he possibly could, until he reached Sirius' door. He looked up at the gold plaque, which read 'Sirius Orion Black', and let out a shaky exhale before he knocked on the door three times. 

   There was a rustling and a thud, and Regulus presumed Sirius must have startled and fallen out of bed. But before long, the door swung open and revealed Sirius to him. 

   Sirius' chin-length hair was messy, untamed, and he looked half asleep still. But when he saw Regulus standing before him with tears in his eyes and a look of abject sorrow, he sobered up quickly. He wrapped an arm around Regulus' shoulders and ushered him into the bedroom, guiding him gently towards the bed in the middle of the room, where they sat, and Sirius cleared his throat. 

   "What is it, Reggie? Are you okay?" he asked, squeezing the younger boy's shoulder.

   "It's- I've... you know what we were talking about before? About me... developing?" Regulus asked, fiddling with the hem of the nightshirt he was wearing, “it's- I'm bleeding, Siri."

   He sounded so frail, so weak, so scared. And it broke Sirius' heart. 

   "Oh, Reggie," he breathed out and wrapped his arms around his brother, pulling him close, cradling the back of Regulus' head against his chest, running his fingers through his younger brother's long hair, "it's okay... it's okay, little star."

   The pair sat like that for a while, simply locked in a brotherly embrace as Sirius whispered sympathetic words in Regulus' ear, until he finally pulled away and lifted Regulus' chin gently so that two pairs of almost identical grey eyes met. 

   "James' mum sent me some things for you with the last letter he sent... hang on a sec," Sirius murmured, and he pressed a soft kiss to Regulus' forehead before getting up from the bed. 

   He wandered over to an old trunk in the corner of the room and put his hand to it, unlocking it with his magical signature - it was a trunk that each of the members of the family had, and only the person it belonged to was able to open it. When the lid of the trunk swung open, Sirius started rummaging around inside it until he fished out a discreet, black bag. He carried the bag over to Regulus and sat down again, opening the bag up. Inside was a note from Euphemia Potter, who seemed like an absolute angel of a woman from what Regulus had heard both through Sirius and also the letter that she had tucked into the last response Sirius had received - it had been addressed to Regulus. 

   His first post as him . As well as a short note from James, congratulating him on choosing a way better name than his parents had originally done - it had made Regulus laugh, so that was all that counted. 

   Along with the note from Euphemia in the bag was a variety of sanitary products, which would be discreet and 'comfortable to use', apparently. Sirius, bless him, was being so good about all of it. He seemed rather uncomfortable talking about these things, but it was clear that he was trying his hardest for Regulus' sake. By the end of their conversation, which involved Sirius making a fool of himself and making Regulus laugh, as well as shared tears between the two brothers, Regulus felt confident enough to go and use the sanitary products given to him by Euphemia Potter, whom he would most definitely need to hug if he ever had the fortune of meeting her. 

   It was all going to be okay. 

   Until Regulus was sitting at the breakfast table, with a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him, and Kreacher announced the arrival of the Hogwarts owls. Two owls. One held, presumably, Sirius' letter. The other, well... it must have been Regulus'. 

   "Mr S. Black and... oh, there seems to have been a mistake on this one. That blasted school... perhaps they've changed their methods for sending out the post," Walburga muttered tersely as she held the letters in her hands, before handing one to Sirius and then glancing down at the other one, "we don't have a relative 'R' Black, do we, darling?"

   She had turned to Orion at that point, who lowered his glasses on his thin nose slightly so that he could glance up at Walburga, where she stood. The two of them were imposing and intimidating characters, it had to be said. Regulus felt his stomach give a funny lurch as he realised what had happened. He looked over at Sirius frantically, whose eyes had gone wide, his jaw going slack at the same moment. 

   "No, not that I'm aware, though it has been some time since I checked the tapestry. I won't be a moment," he nodded curtly and rose from his seat at the head of the table. 

   The moments in which it took Orion to reach the tapestry room down the hall felt like the longest moments of Regulus' life. His heart was in his throat, his stomach was still feeling uncomfortable due to the new changes in his body, and he felt as though he was going to pass out. Sirius reached for his hand under the table and gripped it tightly, giving him a look which suggested he would be there for him, that he would keep Regulus safe. Though both Black brothers knew there was nothing Sirius could do to protect Regulus if their parents decided it was against their wishes for Regulus to go down this particular path in his life. 

   "Denebola Walburga Black, you get here this instant!" Orion's voice boomed out down the corridor, into the kitchen and Regulus' eyes filled with tears. 

   He shakily got to his feet and made his way down the corridor and into the tapestry room. Walburga had already started following, and Sirius skidded into the room not long after. Orion was seething, almost foaming at the mouth as he jutted his thumb in the direction of the tapestry. Regulus hadn't seen it in a while; he hated going into the room where he saw that awful name attached to his portrait. But when he looked at the tapestry this time... 

   It read: Regulus Arcturus Black, b. 17th October 1960, right alongside Sirius Orion Black, b. 3rd November 1959.

   All hell broke loose. 

    Unsurprisingly.

James Potter, 12 Years Old

James hadn't managed to reach Sirius in time to warn him about telling McGonagall to keep Regulus' new name a secret. He found this out due to a letter he received from Sirius the same night as his Hogwarts letter had arrived for the year. He and his parents had been discussing when they would venture into Diagon Alley to pick up his new school equipment when a rather frazzled-looking owl appeared at the window. James read the letter out loud. 

   He had found out that the letter for Regulus had been addressed to 'Mr R. Black', as it of course should be, but it had caused some confusion. When the family had gone into the tapestry room - which Sirius described as an awful room with the whole of the walls covered with the Black family tree dating back to the 1800s - they had found that Regulus' name had changed to just that - Regulus Arcturus Black. It was a bittersweet thing, Sirius had told James in his letter.

   Seeing the old magic of the house recognise Regulus' true identity was lovely, but seeing their parents' reaction was not. 

   There was nothing Sirius could have done, as James explained in his letter when he responded, to protect his younger brother from his parents' wrath in that moment. What was the most difficult part to read, and James presumed the most difficult part for both Sirius and Regulus to witness and experience, was when Walburga had smacked Regulus across the face with the back of her hand, rings and all. Regulus had ended up with a busted lip, and James felt sick at the thought. Handsome young Regulus with his pale, elegant features, now bruised and broken because his parents were intolerant arseholes. 

   Apparently, Walburga had then taken Regulus upstairs, and while Sirius didn't witness anything else, he had heard enough. The thought made James feel disgusted, cold inside. Regulus had been stripped in the bathroom and made to stare at himself in the mirror. What made it worse was that Euphemia's emergency parcel had come in handy earlier that morning. Sirius had been forced to listen to his mother screaming in Regulus' face as he cowered, naked and afraid, in the shower. Telling him he would always be a girl, that these changes in his body meant he was on his way to being a woman. Telling him he needed to wise up and act the part of a respectable lady. 

   Sirius had said there were other things, but that it was too difficult for him to put into words. Having read about all of the previously mentioned parts of the day, James was reeling at the thought that anything else could be worse. 

   But apparently it was. 

   When Euphemia and Fleamont had listened to the words of Sirius' letter, Fleamont got up at once and made his way over to the fireplace, floo calling directly to Hogwarts - as he was able to do with ease, considering he was on the Board of Governors. 

   "Headmaster," Fleamont had said with a grave face, looking almost ghostlike after listening to the torment and abuse that the Black brothers had been forced to endure, "there is something rather urgent that needs your attention."

   "Fleamont, my boy... what troubles you?" Dumbledore asked, his face appearing out of the flames, half-moon spectacles and all. 

   In any other situation, James would have snorted at his father being called 'my boy' by anyone - he was already in his sixties, after James had been a bit of a miracle to be born so late into Fleamont and Euphemia's lives, but he supposed that Dumbledore was still older than him. In any case, it was not a time to be laughing, even at something as ridiculous as that. 

   "The Black family, sir. We have reason to believe that the boys, Sirius and Regulus, are being abused. Written confirmation by Sirius' own hand," Fleamont said urgently, and Dumbledore simply hummed. 

   He hummed. 

   "I am aware of the fraught nature of Walburga and Orion's relationship with their children, Fleamont. Unfortunately, there is little I am able to do at this time. I shall send a welfare check for the boys, but without proof, there is nothing we can do. My hands are... as they say, tied," Dumbledore spoke in that wise, airy tone of his, and James saw red. 

   "Nothing you can do? Bullshit! Sorry, mamãe , but it is! Sirius and I came to McGonagall at school, and now that they've found out about Regulus, they've been horrid to him, Professor! You have to do something!" James let out an angry torrent of words, and Fleamont grabbed him around the waist, holding him back as he looked as though he was going to go charging headfirst into the flames. 

   "James, son... calm down, please. Professor Dumbledore, I'm sure, will do everything in his power to make sure that the boys are okay. But even he can't just waltz in there and whisk them away... there are procedures, processes to follow..." Fleamont held his son close, trying to comfort him as the boy trembled with rage. 

   "As your father said, Mr Potter... I will do what I can. Until then, I can only suggest that you tell the Black brothers to be careful. If what you are saying is correct, then I'm sure there will be some form of evidence we can use against the parents. Until such a time, I am afraid that I remain unable to do anything," Dumbledore informed him, and James let out a frustrated yell, balling his hands into fists but turning them in on himself, clutching them at his chest, as he didn't want to lose it completely, didn't want to inadvertently hurt his parents in the crossfire. 

   "Thank you, sir... it is much appreciated that you will put your attention to this matter. Our only concern is those poor boys," Euphemia said in an odd tone. 

   It wasn't one James had ever heard his mother use. It was polite and nice enough, but it was like she was hiding something. An ulterior motive, perhaps? But James couldn't work out what. Everything had become so muddled in his brain as rage rolled off of him in waves. 

   Euphemia got up and took James into her arms, hugging him tight and whispering comforting words in her native tongue of Portuguese as she walked him away from the fire and into the kitchen, where she put on a pot of tea and gently coaxed James over to the seats at the counter, sitting him down and just holding him close as she always did when his emotions bubbled over like that. He was a very passionate boy, always had been, though sometimes she worried that he was carrying too much on his shoulders. He was always the first person to try and help out if someone was in need, and she couldn't help but wonder whether that was due to her and her husband's advanced years when they had been blessed with him. 

   James had always needed to help out around the house a little more than most children his age; that much was true. 

   But he was so good. He was so good and so loved. 

   She had to hope that was enough as she poured him a cup of tea and one for herself, but opted for a coffee for Fleamont, who somehow found that the extra caffeine helped in sending him off to sleep. That crazy husband of hers. 

   "Everything will be okay, meu filho, luz da minha vida ," she whispered into his dark, untameable hair, as she always did. 

   Because he was, he was her son, and he was the light of her life. 

   James only hoped that Walburga and Orion Black held a sliver of that same notion when thinking of their sons. 

   He hoped. 

   But he wasn't hopeful.

Chapter Text

Regulus Black, 11 Years Old

Life at Grimmauld Place had been particularly difficult in recent days. After Regulus' Hogwarts letter had arrived, he had been humiliated like nothing he had ever experienced before. Of course, he knew that his parents wouldn't have accepted him the way he was, the way he felt, but hearing those words leave his parents' mouths, combined with their actions - particularly his mother's actions... it had become too much. 

   That night, as Regulus sat in the shower, shivering and shaking, he had hurt himself intentionally for the first time. There had been times before where living the lie he had been forced to live with had made him act out when in the privacy of his room - pulling his own hair out, grabbing at his body and pulling and pinching to the point of bruising. But nothing like this. His mother had forcibly shaved his legs and armpits, which had a small covering of hair these days. She said she wouldn't have a dysfunctional child living under her roof and took it into her own hands to 'feminise' him, more than he already was, with the way his body was changing. 

   And with that same razor, Regulus had left markings across his thighs and stomach. 

   Just as he had seen the blood pooling in his underwear that morning, he watched his blood trickle down his legs and pool around him on the floor of the shower, flooding out through the water, giving it a sickly pink-orange colour as the blood diluted. 

   Once he had finally stopped crying, not due to feeling happier, but due to crying all the tears he had to give, he showered off and stepped out of the shower. He wrapped his legs in bandages and hissed as the gauzy material clung to the cuts. He stared at his own reflection and took his hair in his hands, the silky black locks which hung wet around his shoulders, and he took the razor and hacked at his hair, too. 

    His parents were already furious with him; how much worse could it get? 

   Much worse. 

   Regulus had snuck into Sirius' bedroom that night, wearing the only pyjamas he had left after his mother had ransacked his room: a pink, frilly nightdress. He climbed into Sirius' bed and curled up beside his big brother, desperate for comfort. 

   Sirius had woken at some point in the night and seen Regulus' hair. He had felt a conflicting set of emotions at the sight. Pride in his brother for taking matters into his own hands. Yet also fear, for what his parents would do. So Sirius secretly cut more of Regulus' hair as he slept, tidying up the messy job that Regulus had done. That way, when their parents tried to question things, Sirius could truthfully say that he had cut Regulus' hair. Then, if any punishments were doled out, as he was sure there would be some, Sirius would bear that cross, not his baby brother. 

   After clearing away the hair, Sirius got back into bed and wrapped his arms around his brother, pulling him close and pressing a soft kiss to the younger boy's temple. 

Orion had been the one to react to Regulus' new hair. He had grabbed Regulus by the wrist and yanked him out of his chair as he walked into the kitchen to find Regulus, with his neat new haircut, sitting at the table. Sirius was up in a flash, shouting at his father to let go of Regulus, that it had been Sirius who gave him the haircut. Everyone froze. Regulus' eyes went wide as he realised what Sirius was doing, and Sirius stood there with his hands clenched into fists at his side as he glared defiantly up at his father. Orion, however, was foaming at the mouth with rage. Pale blue eyes so cold and wide that Sirius thought they might pop out of his head entirely. 

   Wishful thinking, unfortunately. 

   Regulus cried out as Orion started towards Sirius, grabbing Sirius by a fistful of his chin-length hair and dragging him down the hall towards the bathroom. Once there, Orion took the curly locks in his hand and sheared them off. Where Regulus had wanted shorter hair, to look more like himself, Sirius had prided himself on his thick, luscious locks. He had told everyone that the girls went crazy over it. Well, now he had no hair. Except for perhaps a couple of centimetres all over, short spiky black hair. 

   Regulus wailed as he fell to his knees in the doorway to the bathroom, and Sirius shouted and yelled, his face red as his father cut his hair. 

   "You will not defy me in my own house! Do you hear me? Both of you, if either of you puts another foot over the line, if either of you disobey me again, you will severely regret that decision!" Orion screamed in Sirius' face before rounding on Regulus, "for someone who wishes to be a man, you can't even fight your own battles. It's pathetic."

    It’s pathetic.

    The words ricocheted around Regulus’ skull, feeling like bullets raining in his mind. Something deep down inside him died a little, as his father’s mockery seemed to cut deeper than his mother’s taunts the day before. It stung worse than the razor had done as it glided across Regulus’ thighs in the shower. Somehow, being told that his apparent ‘attempt’ at being the boy he knew he was was pathetic , hurt more than when he was told he would never be a boy. He could dismiss the way his mother had told him he was a girl. He could dismiss the way she called him defective and unnatural. But he couldn’t seem to dismiss the way his father ridiculed him for how he was presenting himself, as he had finally felt like himself when he looked in the mirror that morning. 

   Their father spat on the floor and stepped over Regulus' crumpled form, stalking off to his office, where he remained for the remainder of the day. 

   Sirius and Regulus clutched onto each other as they sat there in the bathroom, sobbing into each other's shirts. 

   "I'm so sorry, Siri... I didn't- I'm sorry," Regulus sniffled into his older brother's shirt, and Sirius shook his head, rocking Regulus gently as he held him. 

   "I made the decision. It's all on me. Not you. Never you, Reggie. Never you, little star," Sirius whispered, pressing a kiss to Regulus' short hair. 

   All the brothers could do was wait for their eventual trip to Hogwarts, when they would finally be able to breathe. To be themselves, whoever those two boys may be.

James Potter, 12 Years Old

An owl arrived from Sirius. James felt sick as he opened it up after seeing the usual elegant scrawl on the front of the envelope. It wasn't an update, though, not in as many words. It was a request. To meet him and Regulus in Diagon Alley the following day, as they would be going with Kreacher, their house elf. Along with a short, almost throwaway line about how their parents couldn't bear to be seen with them, hence the reason they were sending the house elf to take the boys to Diagon Alley instead of going with them. 

   " Mãe! Mãe! " James called out to his mother, receiving a soft call back, "can we go to Diagon Alley tomorrow? Por favor? É importante! "

   " Sim, sim, claro. Por quê? " Euphemia asked as she rounded the corner, seeing James clutching the letter from Sirius in his hands, "Sirius and Regulus? Of course, meu amor , we will go tomorrow. I'll tell your father."

   James sat by the windowsill, writing out a hasty response to Sirius before sending it away with his owl. 

'Si and Reggie, 

See you tomorrow. Chins up. 

Jamie'

The following day, James was nervous. He didn't know why he was so nervous to see his best friend and his best friend's brother, as Sirius was basically like a brother to him. But he was. Perhaps it was because he'd not seen the other boy in so long, or because of all of the information he had found out regarding the brothers and their family life that summer already... but his stomach was twisting itself into knots; his palms were itchy and sweaty, and his throat felt far too dry. 

   Euphemia Potter seemed to notice this as she saw James walking into the kitchen that morning, and she immediately swept him into her arms. She cradled her son and kissed the top of his head, squeezing him tight in her warm embrace. 

   "Everything will be okay, meu filho ," she murmured, her weathered, calloused fingertips running up and down James' back, over his broadening shoulders and muscles, which made her remember just how fast her little boy was growing up. 

   He held so many emotions in that small body of his, and she wished she could take away his worries and his pain. Alas, it was not possible. It would never be possible, no matter how much a mother's love could do, it couldn't take away the pain of life. 

   She was just grateful that she could be there for James when those poor boys, the Black brothers, weren't so lucky with the hands that they had been dealt. It was hard, she knew, for James to hear about his friends in pain or scared, but she knew her son could be the best friend that those boys could ever wish for. He was a kind soul, a caring boy; he just needed to get a handle on this crushing anxiety and rage when things didn't quite work out. In the long run, he would be better for it. She just wished he could find the balance between being so caring and getting so overly affected by everything. 

   After the Potters had sorted themselves out that morning, each of them stepped into the fireplace and used the floo network, popping out at the Leaky Cauldron, a ramshackle pub which had served the wizarding community for centuries. James dusted himself off and straightened his glasses and then ventured out into the bustling cobblestone street of Diagon Alley. He wasn't sure where the Black brothers would be, but he kept an eye out for his crazy, long-haired best friend and his shorter, smaller long-haired little brother. 

   So it shocked James when he turned a corner and saw a wrinkly old house elf walking behind a fairly tall boy of James' age or thereabouts with short spiky hair, and a shorter boy with hair cropped above his ears, but still with dark curls flopping over his face. They looked gaunt and fearful, as the younger boy tugged on the older boy's sleeve and gestured at James and his parents. 

   "Si?" James asked, his voice cracking slightly as he stepped forward, taking in the crude haircut Sirius now sported. 

   "Jamie!" Sirius grinned, some of the gauntness of his expression fading, making way for that charming grin and the twinkle in his grey eyes that James had always been so fond of. 

   "You... you cut your hair. Both of you," James said rather simply, hazel eyes wide, jaw slightly slack. 

   "Yeah... I'll tell you about that later. Come on, Reggie, come meet Jamie," Sirius murmured and guided his younger brother forward. 

   The younger of the two Black brothers extended a hand to James, looking almost haughty and sophisticated in that moment, even while wearing what were presumably Sirius' clothes as they were slightly too big for him. James felt a small smile tugging at his lips, and dimples appeared in his bronzed cheeks as he took the smaller boy's hand in his and gave him a firm yet kind handshake. And an odd fluttering feeling blossomed in James' stomach, but he put that down to pride or joy at finally meeting the 'Little Star' he had heard so much about. 

   "It's great to meet you, Reggie. I've heard so much about you," James said warmly, his hand holding Regulus' still, for perhaps a fraction longer than he needed to. 

   Something about the younger boy was simply magnetising. Perhaps those silvery grey eyes, drawing him in. Or the rosy colouring to his cheeks as he gazed up at James. Either way... James couldn't quite look away.

Regulus Black, 11 Years Old

Walking up the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley felt like an adventure. Regulus was clinging to Sirius' sleeve as Kreacher, their house elf, ushered them along. But when Regulus saw James Potter and his parents, time seemed to stand still. 

   James was taller than Sirius and broader in the shoulders, with deep, bronzed skin and warm hazel eyes. A slightly crooked yet dimpled and charming smile, and a ridiculous mop of messy black curls. Euphemia was gorgeous . She was slightly darker than James, with slightly darker eyes too, though they held that same warmth as James', and her eyes crinkled at the sides with smile lines. Her hair was dark, long and glossy with only a few silvery streaks. Fleamont was gorgeous, too, if Regulus was being honest. He was more pale, but he had James' bone structure - or, rather, James had his bone structure. High cheekbones and a strong jaw, with light hazel, almost green eyes. And circular glasses, just like James'. 

   James seemed to be the perfect mix of his parents. 

   And Regulus' heart hammered wildly as James accepted his hand and shook it. As if little volts of electricity ran from his hand right to his heart. 

   He opened his mouth and closed it again. Open. Close. Until he almost pouted up at James. How embarrassing. 

   "It's great to meet you, Reggie. I've heard so much about you," James said, and Regulus' heart may have stopped completely. 

    It's great to meet you, Reggie. 

   Reggie. 

   It sounded even nicer coming from James' dusky rose lips. Like honey . Each syllable dripping with warmth and light. 

   Regulus' traitorous face started heating up a little, too. Matching the warmth which bloomed in his heart. 

   "Y-you, too," he finally managed to stammer out, and he heard a snicker behind him - Sirius, clearly relishing in the way Regulus seemed so tongue-tied around James. 

   When James finally let go of Regulus' hand, he felt instantly cold. Like the sun had gone out. But then Euphemia had swept in, wrapping strong, motherly arms around Regulus and clutching him to her chest as a mother would do with a son. Or, a mother who cared for her son would do. Regulus, not usually a fan of such overt physical contact, had initially tensed up, but then he threw his arms around her and squeezed her tightly, as if afraid to let go. She had been such a big help, such a big comfort in her letter and the small emergency package she had sent to him. He wondered if she knew how much she had helped. 

   "It's so good to meet you, Regulus, meu querido , and if you ever need anything, you just let us know, okay?" Euphemia spoke warmly, with a gentle accent to her words, and it made Regulus feel like he was safe. 

   For the first time in a long time. Perhaps ever. 

   "Thank you, Mrs Potter. You’ve helped a lot, already," Regulus murmured, his small voice muffled by the sleeve of her dress. 

   "Please, call me Effie, meu querido ," she smiled and pulled away, gazing down at him with a warm look in her eyes, "such a handsome young man..." 

    Handsome young man. Regulus liked the sound of that, especially as it was said with such genuine warmth and care. 

   While Regulus then greeted Fleamont, who gave him a firm handshake and then a hug, Euphemia greeted Sirius with a bear hug and a kiss to his cheek, which Regulus had expected Sirius to wipe off or something similar, but he just beamed up at her. 

   If Sirius felt comfortable around them all, Regulus knew he must be genuinely safe there, too. Sirius would never lead him astray. He knew that, deep down to his bones.

Chapter Text

James Potter, 12 Years Old

The Hogwarts Express trundled into the station at King's Cross, on Platform 9 3/4, in all its scarlet glory. James was ecstatic to be going back to Hogwarts, though he would miss his mother and father, whom he hugged tightly and received embarrassing kisses from in front of all of his peers on the train station platform. Once they had finally finished with showering him with kisses and bone-crushing hugs, Euphemia and Fleamont Potter waved James onto the scarlet steam train as they embraced each other, wondering what the school year would hold for their beloved and only son. 

  James boarded the train and trailed his fingertips along the glass doors and rough-textured walls of the train compartments, pushing through door after door as he made his way down to the compartment he had shared with Peter, Remus and Sirius the year before. He slid open the door and stowed his bag in the overhead rails before sitting down, twirling his wand absentmindedly in his hand as he gazed out of the window, watching people rushing around on the platform, saying goodbye to their parents and other family members. 

  He spotted Peter, a round-faced blonde boy with blue eyes and a rather scruffy-looking pet owl in a dented cage, saying goodbye to his parents. Penelope Pettigrew and Peter Pettigrew Sr. were kind enough people from what James had heard, though Mr Pettigrew had a bushy blonde moustache which James thought looked rather like a rat on his upper lip. Mrs Pettigrew was pretty, though, a plump woman with rosy cheeks and a kind smile just like her son's. 

  Remus was saying goodbye to his parents, too. Remus was lanky, always had been since he'd arrived at Hogwarts. Sandy brown hair, scars across his face and arms, deep caramel eyes with flecks of green, which James thought reminded him of the forest. Hope Lupin was a simple, pretty lady with a thick Welsh accent and mousy hair, but freckled and smiling, always. Lyall Lupin was a fairly severe-looking man with dark, slightly greying hair, and he always wore smart clothes, though they were about a decade out of fashion. His eyes were dark, and he had frown lines most of the time. Apparently, he worked for the Ministry, and James thought it fit him quite nicely, as he seemed to have a no-nonsense attitude. 

  But what James was really looking for was the Black family. 

  He finally spotted them, over in the corner, and he pressed his nose against the glass, his glasses smushing against his face as he did so, just so that he could get a better look. Regulus, with his new short hair, had, thankfully, not been forced into a skirt or something else more feminine. He was wearing black slacks, which seemed to be slightly too long, and smart black shoes, with a crisp white shirt, buttoned up to the neck, and he wore a nervous expression. Sirius, with his shorn hair, looked foul. His shirt was untucked and unbuttoned at the top, his trousers were muggle jeans, and James knew his parents must have been furious. But it was the look of pure hatred on his face that made him look the worst. 

  Walburga Black was a haughty, crow of a woman with pinched features, dark eyebrows and dark hair which was perfectly coiffed, pale skin which was entirely wrinkle and blemish free. Her dress looked expensive, all dark and moody in black satin with lace detailing and her heels looked uncomfortable, too. Not that James would have worn them anyway. Orion Black looked eerily similar to his wife, with pale skin and high cheekbones, a chiselled jaw and neatly trimmed hair and facial hair. He was a gentleman of the aristocracy through and through. He was always smartly dressed, and his clothes were the height of fashion without being flamboyant. 

  But neither of them hugged their children before the Black brothers made their way onto the train. Thin-lipped smiles, out of obligation rather than feeling, as well as what James presumed were insults or warnings hissed in low voices before the boys turned away from their parents. 

  Regulus clutched at Sirius' sleeve as the two made their way onto the train, and James sat back in his seat, just in time to see Remus and Peter bundling into the compartment. Remus waved a hand at James and sat down, opening a book as he leaned against the back of the seat. Peter grinned and sat next to Remus, rummaging through his bag for the latest issue of some comic book he liked. 

  "Alright, Jamie?" Remus asked, that slight hint of a Welsh accent James was so familiar with, coming through more strongly after a summer back at home with his mum. 

  "Alright, Remus," James nodded and glanced between Remus and Peter, though his mind drifted back to the Black family, "you boys have a good summer?" 

  "Yeah, it was lush, thanks. Went with me mam to see some muggle films while dad was working... and you both?" Remus asked, his green-hazel eyes glinting in the light as he enthused about his holiday. 

  "Spent a lot of time with that Frank kid... our parents are friends. He's alright, got some girlfriend, he said. She seems nice enough... Alice Fortescue? Same year as him," Peter murmured, looking up from his comic book, "thought we could all carry on finding those secret passageways in the school, though this year... Frank said he found one beneath the statue of the one-eyed witch."

  "Oh, wicked... yeah, we'll definitely check that out, Pete. My holiday was alright... but just before Sirius gets here-" James cut himself off as he saw Sirius and Regulus approaching the compartment through the glass door.

  He didn't get a chance to get another word in before Sirius had already started sliding the door open. Remus and Peter's eyes widened, and their jaws hung open; it was almost comical, or it would be if James hadn't heard the story behind Sirius' severe haircut. 

  "What the fuck happened to you?" Remus asked, and he looked like he might pass out as he jumped to his feet and reached out, brushing a hand over Sirius' shorn head without even asking.

  James knew the haircut was bad, but that was a little extreme, if he was being honest. 

  "Bloody parents... I'm fine, Rem... I am. Promise," Sirius murmured as he glanced up at Remus, chewing the inside of his cheek before he seemed to remember that Regulus was still clutching at his shirt sleeve, "oh, this is my little brother Regulus, everyone. Reggie, this is Remus. That one's Peter, and then you met James the other week, of course."

  Peter and Remus both waved at Regulus and offered polite smiles as Remus sat down and made some space so that the new arrivals could fit into the compartment with them. James caught Regulus' eye finally adn ofnd gave him a warm smile, those dimples on show again. Regulus waved at both Peter and Remus as he took a seat beside James, while Sirius sat next to Remus. When Regulus finally turned to face James and saw that warm smile, the younger boy's cheeks seemed to flush a little. 

  James thought it was incredibly sweet. 

  "How was the rest of your summer, Reggie?" James asked, leaning back against the seat as he held Regulus' gaze, his hazel eyes swimming with that usual warmth that seemed to burn a little brighter whenever Regulus was around. 

  "It was... it was okay. Sirius managed to get on mother and father's last nerve countless times. But I think he was doing it to redirect their attention," Regulus spoke quietly, and it meant that James had to lean in a little closer to him to hear him clearly, "but we're here now."

  "You're here now," James repeated, nodding as he thought for a moment, "think you know what house you'll end up in?"

  Regulus seemed to tense up at James' question, and James' brows furrowed slightly. He scratched the back of his neck as he wondered what he had said wrong, though he then realised exactly what it was. The Blacks have been in Slytherin for generations, Sirius had told him when they both started Hogwarts the year before. But then Sirius had gone and broken the mould and been sorted into Gryffindor, which had earned him a corking Howler. James considered Regulus for a moment, his gaze flitting across the boy's pale face, still slightly flushed, with his pinched brows and stormy grey eyes. 

  "You know it doesn't matter what house you're in, right? Either way, you'll have us lot to look out for you," James murmured, reaching out to place a hand on Regulus' arm, the warmth seeping through Regulus' sleeve almost instantly.

  Regulus had turned to gaze up at him fully then, his features relaxing. The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease, and he looked... peaceful, almost. His rosy lips slightly parted, his eyes widening just a fraction. 

  "Do you really mean that? Because... well, when Sirius got into Gryffindor, our parents went mad. You don't think- you don't think that Sirius will do the same if I end up in a different house?" Regulus leaned in a little closer, and James could smell a hint of eucalyptus and sandalwood - it was the aftershave Sirius had used before finding his apparent 'signature scent' midway through his First Year.

  When that scent mixed with Regulus' shampoo, though... it smelled really nice . 

  "I'm sure he won't. He loves you, you know. Couldn't stop talking about you all of last year - almost got annoying. But I see why he did, now," James squeezed Regulus' arm gently, and Regulus nodded, tucking some of his dark curls behind his ear as he offered James a sweet smile. 

  "Thank you. I've- well, I've been worrying a bit," Regulus admitted, fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt as he looked down. 

  "What have you been worrying about, Reggie?" Sirius asked as he glanced up at Regulus and James from where he had his head resting on Remus's shoulder, while Remus paid no attention to his surroundings, his nose firmly buried in a tatty, leather-bound book that seemed to be falling apart at the seams. 

  "It's nothing, Siri," Regulus muttered, shifting a little in his seat, though Sirius kept his focus firmly on Regulus, as if prompting him to keep talking, to tell him what was wrong, "I was just worrying about getting sorted. If... well, if I end up in Gryffindor with you, then our parents will hate me even more. But if I get into Slytherin... will you- will you hate me?"

  James' heart ached as he heard those words leave Regulus' mouth. He sounded so small, so scared. As if his whole world might collapse around him if his big brother hated him. He squeezed Regulus' arm gently again, as if to tell him that he was there, regardless of the answer. But James knew, deep down, that Sirius wouldn't turn his back on his brother, would he? He adored him. Couldn't speak highly enough of him. 

  "Of course I wouldn't hate you, Reggie... come here," Sirius got up and crossed to stand in front of Regulus, wrapping his arms around Regulus' shoulders and then cradling the younger boy's head against his chest, "I love you, Reggie. I could never hate you, no matter what."

  James felt a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched the two of them, finally withdrawing his hand from Regulus' arm and settling back against the cushioned seat of the train. This was a moment for the two of them, not for him. A small part of him wished it were a moment for him, too. Having never had a brother, Sirius was the closest thing to one that he had. But he knew that, as close as they were, they would never be the same as Sirius and Regulus. 

  He didn't resent Regulus, not really. But he wished he had someone like that just for him.

Regulus Black, 11 Years Old

It had been embarrassing when Sirius hugged Regulus and reassured him in front of his friends. In front of James . But Regulus was grateful for it, all the same, as he waited at the front of the Great Hall among all of the other First Years. On the boat ride up to the school, he had met a few people - some were vaguely familiar from different functions that his family had hosted and attended over the years, but he wasn't sure if they had recognised him or not. 

  He hoped they hadn't. 

  Hogwarts was supposed to be his fresh start. 

  "Aubrey, Bertram," Professor McGonagall called out as she read the names from a scroll in front of her, her spectacles perched on the end of her slender nose. 

    A boy with mousy brown hair and freckles walked through the crowd of the other First Years, looking rather timid as the first student to be called for his sorting. Regulus couldn't help but feel sorry for him, considering that it was a nerve-wracking moment for most of the students there. But to be the first? Good luck to Bertram Aubrey , he thought. He fidgeted with the sleeve of his robe, which thankfully wasn't too long for him like the trousers he had worn onto the train. At least this was his. It had been bought for him. And the moment he had pulled out the skirt and robes from his bag in order to change on the train, the skirt had magically transformed into a pair of trousers. 

  Though he had looked around and seen James with his wand out. So perhaps James had helped him out. Though how he knew how to do that sort of Transfiguration when he was only entering his Second Year? Regulus couldn't be sure. 

   Euphemia Potter probably taught him. 

  It was a nice thought, anyway, about the kind-hearted woman he met in Diagon Alley. 

  "Avery, Cadmius," McGonagall called, after Bertram Aubrey had been sorted into Ravenclaw. 

  Avery was a family that Regulus knew of. Cadmius, however, didn't seem to register who Regulus was when he had bumped into him on the way up the steps and into the castle, a fact that Regulus was grateful for. The Avery family were much the same as the Black family. It was proven, Regulus supposed, when Cadmius Avery had been sorted into Slytherin and was welcomed with open arms by a host of people. Including, Regulus noted, his older cousins. 

  There were a few others under 'A', and then they reached the 'B' names, and Regulus felt his stomach lurch. He glanced across the Great Hall, over at Sirius and James, who sat at the Gryffindor table with Remus and Peter. James shot Regulus a smile and a quick 'thumbs up', while Sirius nodded at Regulus and squeezed his eyes shut. It was sort of their way to say 'I love you' when they couldn't say it aloud. When he opened his eyes again, Regulus did the same in return and then smiled at James, too. 

  "Bagman, Otto," McGonagall called out, and a sort of pudgy boy with a kind face walked up to the front of the Great Hall, taking his seat on the stool before McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head. 

  After some deliberation, the hat announced that Otto Bagman was a Hufflepuff. He got up, beaming from ear to ear as he walked down the steps and joined, presumably, his brother at the Hufflepuff table. The older boy threw an arm around Otto's shoulders and congratulated him, from what Regulus could see. 

  There were a few more after that: Barclay, Robert was sorted into Ravenclaw; Benton, Alison was sorted into Gryffindor; Beasley, Barbara was sorted into Hufflepuff; Biggleswade, Octavia was sorted into Slytherin; Bing, Marcus was sorted into Gryffindor, and finally Blabbersworth, Henrietta was sorted into Slytherin. 

  "Black, Regulus," McGonagall called out finally, and Regulus felt as though his heart was lodged in his throat, his palms sweating profusely as he slowly made his way up to the stool. 

  There was a ruckus around the room, though it mostly came from the Slytherin table. He didn't want to look as he knew just what would be happening. His cousins, Andromeda, Bellatrix and Narcissa would be seething. He was sure of it. As he made his way up to the stool, he heard murmurs about his name, about his hair, about him in general. Or, rather, they were talking about her . As in who he was to them before he came to Hogwarts. 

  Regulus sat himself down on the stool, hands clasped primly in his lap, head held high, jaw square and eyes fixed directly ahead of him, on a particularly gnarly-looking stone gargoyle which was situated above the entryway to the Great Hall. McGonagall offered him a small, almost sympathetic smile as she placed the Sorting Hat on his head, and he felt everything go quiet around him. 

  It was as if all of the chatter had died down, as if people had simply stopped talking. But as he let his gaze drift around the room, his silver eyes landed on his cousins, who were still hissing amongst themselves. He then realised that it must have been something to do with the magic of the hat itself. 

  "Regulus Black... All your forefathers have been in Slytherin for generations, you know. Barring the odd outlier, your brother was included in those outliers, was he not? I know he was, you don't need to answer, dear boy... you're brave, standing up for what you believe in against all the odds. But you seek power, greatness... There's ambition here, heaps of it. You're loyal to a fault, but cunning... oh yes, you're cunning and resourceful," the hat's raspy voice echoed around Regulus' mind, "intelligence in bounds, but it's how you attain that information and use it that means... you'd better be: SLYTHERIN !" 

  Regulus felt sick. 

  He got up from the stool on shaky legs, his robes and tie automatically shifting from the Hogwarts crest and colours to the Slytherin crest and colours. He looked up at the Gryffindor table, locking eyes with Sirius, whose jaw was clenched, but he clapped regardless, seemingly reluctantly. But it wasn't anger that Regulus saw in his eyes. It was fear, and Regulus decided he never wanted to see that look in his big brother's eyes again. 

  James, however, shouted out and cheered for Regulus. He got up from his seat and clapped his hands, a massive supportive grin on his face. Regulus felt weakened by the sight, yet also as big and strong as the tallest of oak trees. He held his chin high and grinned back at James before making his way down to the Slytherin table, feeling emboldened all of a sudden. 

   "Regulus , is it?" 

  Regulus whipped his head around to see Bellatrix Black, his cousin, speaking to him when he arrived at the Slytherin table. She was a thin, tall, pale woman with crazy curly black locks which spilt down her back. She was beautiful, but in a haunting way, her cheekbones hollowed out and her eyes dark and calculating. 

  "It is. Hello, cousin," he spoke calmly, sitting down in the space between Bellatrix and Narcissa, where they had made room for him. 

  "Well... at least you're a Slytherin," Narcissa offered a pretty smile to him, though it didn't quite meet her pale grey, almost blue eyes. 

  She was vastly different from her older sister. Narcissa was less gaunt, more rosy-cheeked and rosy-lipped, with an effortless ethereal quality to her. Her hair was long and blonde, perfectly straightened and pinned half up, half down, but with a black streak which seemed to be intentionally left. Regulus knew she had never been blonde as a child; she had been blessed with the same dark, curly locks as the rest of the family. But she had obviously made that choice fairly early on, to bleach her hair. She looked gorgeous. 

  "I am," Regulus nodded, smoothing down his robes as he glanced up at her. 

  "Well, at least there may be one suitable heir," Bellatrix commented, though it seemed rather forced and begrudging. 

  However, it made Regulus let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He had braced for ridicule and attack, but he'd been... accepted ? He hadn't imagined it in his wildest dreams. But here his cousins were, accepting his new name, his new identity. All because he'd been sorted into the 'right' house. 

  "Welcome to the snake pit, Regulus," came a drawling, haughty voice. 

  Regulus glanced up at a blonde boy, his hair halfway down his back, sleek and shiny. His eyes were blue and his features were chiselled, as if he'd leapt to life from a statue of a Greek God. Regulus' stomach did a funny little turn as he glanced up at the boy, who looked only a couple of years older than him, at most, but seemed to command authority and respect already. Regulus wanted to be like him . 

  "Thank you... Lucius Malfoy, I presume?" Regulus asked, offering his hand to the older boy across the table. 

  Of course, he knew the Malfoy family. Where the Blacks were the most ancient and respected house, the Malfoys weren't far behind. They were affluent and aristocratic, and he knew that Narcissa had been betrothed to Lucius from when she had been just a tiny infant with rosy cheeks and chubby fingers. 

  "Correct. A pleasure to meet you, heir Black ," Lucius smirked, taking Regulus' hand and shaking it firmly. 

  But Regulus wasn't the heir. Sirius was. 

  "Heir Black?" Regulus asked quietly, glancing down at his and Lucius' linked hands and then back up at the blonde boy's face. 

  "Well... we can hardly be expected to acknowledge a blood traitor for the heir of the noble and most ancient house of Black, can we?" Lucius responded, a calculating look in his eyes as he met Regulus' gaze firmly. 

  Regulus glanced at Narcissa and then Bellatrix, who both appeared to be keenly invested in the discussion. Then he glanced across at the Gryffindor table where Sirius was laughing and joking with his friends. 

  The youngest Black brother was of two minds in that moment. He didn't wish to usurp his brother's birthright -  of course he didn't. But he also knew that he was in a very precarious position already, and going along with Lucius Malfoy's proposed plan of action... it would offer him a position of security, where everything was already so up in the air. 

  "Of course not," Regulus nodded, and Lucius gave his hand one final squeeze before releasing it. 

  Narcissa patted Regulus' arm gently, as if congratulating him. Bellatrix's prior disdain seemed to dissipate, as if everything had gone according to plan, as if Regulus had played right into their hands. Which, he supposed, he had.

That evening, after the rest of the First Years had been sorted and everyone had feasted until their bellies were full, Headmaster Dumbledore dismissed the students, and the Prefects led the students back to their respective Common Rooms and dormitories, which lay behind the doors to those Common Rooms. After being told that the stairs were enchanted to ensure that boys could not go up the girls' staircases and vice versa, Regulus felt panic gripping him. 

  He waited for all of the other First Years to climb the stairs to their respective dormitories, and then he braced himself. He put one hand on the silver rail, which ran alongside the staircase leading up to the Slytherin boys' dormitories. After a slow exhale, he put one foot on the bottom step. Nothing happened. So he put his other foot on the next one up. He braced for impact. Nothing happened again. As he climbed the stairs, his anxiety ran wild. And then he had made it to the top of the staircase. 

  Once at the top, he turned around and peered over the top of the staircase. Standing at the bottom of the staircase were Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape (another boy in Lucius' year), Narcissa Black and Bellatrix Black, as well as a few others of their compatriots. Lucius wore a satisfied smirk, Narcissa had been shocked and delighted, and Bellatrix looked... pleased. If someone so haughty and standoffish could ever be pleased .

  "Congratulations, heir Black," Bellatrix said coolly, the faintest flicker of a smile tugging at her lips. 

  "Thank you, cousin," Regulus nodded, and then he turned on his heel and stalked down the corridor to the First Year Slytherin boys' dormitory as quickly as he could without running, still feeling a little jittery due to his nerves.

  He pushed the door open and let out a sigh of relief. He'd made it. He was recognised. He was him . 

  "Regulus Black, right? We thought you'd got lost, mate," a blonde boy with blue eyes and dark skin said as Regulus walked in, "Evan Rosier, good to meet you."

  The boy offered Regulus his hand, and Regulus shook it firmly, a small smile on his lips. 

  "You too... yeah, Regulus. Sorry, my cousins were waving me up the stairs - bit embarrassing, really," Regulus let out a soft chuckle and made his way over to his bed, where all of his belongings had already appeared. 

  "No worries... it's nice they care. My sister was dead sniffly when we had to say goodbye at the Sorting Ceremony. Pandora, my twin... she's in Ravenclaw. Same as this kid, Barty, who we met on the train. At least she's got friends, though... and we've got each other now, right?" Evan asked as he shrugged off his robe, "oh... over there is Cadmius Avery. He's a sound guy, but he's gone into the bathroom for now. And over there are Septimus Crabbe and George Goyle." 

  Regulus glanced over and saw one shorter, stocky boy with a sort of smushed face and a thickset brow, brown hair and brown eyes: Septimus Crabbe. Beside the other bed was a tall boy with curly black hair, cropped quite short and blue eyes. He seemed nice enough, offering Regulus a smile, whereas Septimus had just nodded with a blank expression. That one must have been George Goyle. 

  Those were his dorm mates, then. For the next seven years of his life. 

  "Well, it's good to meet you all... I'm sure we'll all get to know each other well enough soon," Regulus smiled and then he sat on his bed, still keeping his robe on. 

  "Yeah, for sure... you not getting ready for bed?" Evan asked, and Regulus stiffened slightly, his jaw clenching.

  That was something he hadn't quite thought through. 

  Now that he was here and he had been accepted as himself, as Regulus, he would now have to live in a room with four other boys, all of whom - presumably - were born as boys. That wasn't so much of a problem in and of itself, but it was a problem when it came to Regulus changing. How could he navigate all of this without being found out instantly? 

  "I- no, I was going to shower at the same time, so may as well wait for the bathroom to be free," Regulus murmured quickly, averting his gaze and swallowing thickly. 

  "That's fair... you're better than me. I just want to get my kit off and get into bed," Evan grinned lazily and started unbuttoning his shirt. 

  Regulus averted his gaze as Evan unbuttoned his shirt, revealing dark, lean muscles underneath. How he could be the same age as Regulus and already have muscles like that, Regulus couldn't be sure... it wasn't fair . And it did some funny little thing to Regulus' stomach that he wasn't sure he wanted to unpack just yet. 

  "Well... just my family drilling it all into me, I suppose," Regulus murmured as he sat on his bed and waited for Cadmius Avery to be finished in the bathroom so that he could shower and change in peace. 

   This was promising to be a challenging year already, if just this first night in the boys' dormitories was anything to go by.

Chapter Text

Regulus Black, 11 Years Old

One night done. Regulus had survived one night in the boys' dormitories without discovery. So when he and Evan made their way to breakfast in the Great Hall the following morning, he was elated. As if he were walking on clouds. He and Evan discussed their favourite Quidditch teams and how awful their parents' taste in music was, as well as countless other things. The best part of all of it was that Regulus had found himself a friend. 

  Of course, he had Sirius, and Sirius' friend James, but Regulus had never really had a friend of his own. Unless one were to count Kreacher, the Black family house elf. Which would make no sense at all, as Kreacher was bound to the Black family for life and practically raised Regulus in the absence of Walburga and Orion Black's love and affection. 

  "What class are you excited for, Reg?" Evan asked as the two sat down next to Cadmius Avery, who had seemed rather quiet when Regulus finally got to speak to him. 

  "Uh... I think Transfiguration or Charms. Though Potions is rather handy, too. And yourself?" Regulus asked, glancing at Evan, who was already helping himself to a large helping of bacon and eggs.

  "Hm... flying should be good. And Defence Against the Dark Arts," Evan murmured thoughtfully, tapping his chin for a moment, "only one I'm not fussed on is History of Magic. Seems dead boring, really."

  The conversation ebbed and flowed just like that, easy and natural and like nothing was different. Regulus felt just like a normal boy. 

  And then the post arrived. 

  A letter for Regulus. From his parents. And also one from Fleamont and Euphemia Potter. 

  Taking a shaky breath, Regulus lifted the wax seal of the envelope from his parents and slid out the parchment. His fingers trembled slightly as he did so. 

'Dear Dene Regulus, 

Your cousins informed us that you were sorted into Slytherin. Congratulations. You have made the house of Black proud. We also received a report that you are residing in the boys' dormitories. It appears that magic has its own plans for you, and who are we to reject the ways of magic? Magic is might, after all. 

We are not best pleased still over your... choices. But if you can uphold the family name suitably and keep that secret hidden, then we shan't object. A parcel shall be arriving sometime next week with clothes suitable for your lifestyle. 

Uphold the standards, keep your nose clean of the filth in that school. 

Sincerely,

Walburga and Orion

(Mother and Father)'

Regulus' teeth were clenched, his knuckles white as he gripped the sheet of parchment in his hands. It was an improvement, he supposed, though he knew it was only so that the family might keep their prestigious image. No one knew of Regulus' secret thus far, and he would have to keep that close to his chest, and then... he could live happily. It was something, at least. 

  He glanced up at the Gryffindor table and locked eyes with Sirius, who seemed fixated on the letter in Regulus' hands. 

  Sirius had received a Howler the morning after his sorting. Regulus had not. 

  Guilt niggled away in Regulus' mind, but he tried to push it aside as he reached for the letter from the Potters. 

'Regulus, 

James told us you got sorted into Slytherin. Do your house proud, keep your head high, and please also find enclosed a little token to keep your spirits just as high, hopefully.

If you ever need anything, all you need to do is write. 

Yours,

Effie and Monty.'

Tears stung in Regulus' eyes as he checked the envelope, which seemed much larger on the inside than the outside. It was a jumper. A thick, green jumper with a small R embroidered on the sleeve. It was perfect. He slipped off his robe and pulled the jumper on over his head, before pulling his robe back on. He felt warm and comfortable and loved. 

  Perhaps everything would be alright after all, he thought, as he started pouring himself some tea and loading bacon and eggs onto his plate, just the same as Evan was doing. Regulus supposed that this would be the best way to fit in and avoid detection of his secret: mimicking his friends. Not copying them exactly, but mirroring what they were doing. Eventually, it would become so natural to him that it was second nature, he was sure. 

  Breakfast passed quickly, and then there was free time. The first full day of school, which wasn't taken up by travelling to the school by train, was a Saturday, and so even though the First Years had been given their timetables, they had nowhere to be. Not really. All Regulus could think of, though, was that he was free.

James Potter, 12 Years Old

Regulus hadn't received a howler earlier that morning, and James was so grateful for it. He knew the younger boy must have been terrified still of what his parents would think of him, so the fact he received a normal letter was... well, it was perfect. James hadn't had a proper chance to see Regulus after the Sorting Ceremony, of course, and so when breakfast had finished, he quickly made a beeline for the exit. 

  He caught up with Regulus halfway down the corridor, to see a boy in Regulus' year with his arm draped around Regulus' shoulders. He was a black boy with bleach-blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He looked cool. It made James a little annoyed for some reason that Regulus had managed to find such a cool friend. But he pushed that aside and walked up to Regulus. 

  "You've got to meet my sister, she's the best- hello? Can we help you?" the blonde boy asked, furrowing his brows as he looked up at James. 

  "Hey, sorry... James Potter. Just came to talk to Reggie, actually," James offered the boy his hand, and the boy glanced at it and turned his nose up at him, dropping his arm from around Regulus. 

  "Meet me in the library, Reg. I'll introduce you to Panda and Barty," the boy had said, and James frowned as the boy walked away, though he quickly recovered himself and turned to face Regulus, looking down at him with a smile. 

  "He seems... interesting," James chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, "how are you this morning, Reggie?" 

  Regulus looked torn. His gaze flitted between the blonde boy's retreating form and James' face. But then he let out a small chuckle and gestured at his jumper. 

  "Nice and warm thanks to Effie. She sent me a new jumper. It was really sweet of her... and- well, my parents seem to be reluctantly accepting me. How- how did Sirius take me being sorted in Slytherin?" Regulus asked, chewing on his bottom lip and fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. 

  James paused for a moment, his gaze flitting from Regulus' face and the way he worried at his bottom lip, to the way he fiddled with his sleeve. 

  "He was a little shocked, Reggie... but he loves you. You know that, right?" James asked, and his heart seemed to ache as he saw the way Regulus practically shrank in on himself, looking down and making himself seem even smaller than he actually was.

  James lifted his hand and placed a finger under Regulus' chin, gently nudging it upwards. When his eyes met with Regulus', he saw so much worry, so much pain in the younger boy's eyes. He gently held Regulus' chin between his thumb and forefinger, their eyes firmly locked. Regulus' breath hitched, and his expression softened more with each second that passed, as if his worry was slowly fading away. 

  "He's proud of you. He's just scared it means you'll turn your back on him like the rest of the family... but I doubt you'd do that. You're not like them," James spoke softly, that rich quality to his voice just more prominent than ever and there was a faint dusting of pink spreading across Regulus' pale cheeks. 

  "How do you know I'm not like them?" Regulus whispered, his brow pinching slightly. 

  "I just do. You're kind and you care... you wouldn't turn your back on him," James murmured, taking a step closer to Regulus, "you'll always be welcome with us. Sirius, me and our friends. And my parents, too. Mum wrote back to me this morning and told me to look out for you, you know... but I'd have done that anyway, you know."

  "I- can I tell you something, Jamie?" Regulus asked quietly, and James nodded, his thumb trailing along Regulus' jaw as he released his grip on the younger boy, "I... well- my cousins and their friends started talking to me. They seem to... accept me. But I think it's just because they think they can keep me under their thumbs, not like they can with Sirius. I don't want Sirius to worry, but they do seem to be- I don't know, it's like they're trying to prepare me for the heirship in case everything with Sirius goes south."

  That threw James for a loop. 

  He knew that that particular group of purebloods were very nitpicky about things like that, but this just seemed extreme. Sirius was only twelve; there was so much time before he would need to assume the lordship of the house of Black. Worse than that, Regulus was only eleven, and they were already basically grooming him to usurp his brother's birthright. None of it seemed logical, but James knew that there was rarely anything logical to be found where the pureblood elitists were concerned. 

  "Reggie... please be careful. For me?" James urged him, placing his hand on his shoulders.

  Regulus nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly under James' hands. 

  "I will. I promise," Regulus offered him a small smile, and James felt relief flooding over him. 

  "Alright, well... I'll let you get to your friend, then. The moody one," James teased, squeezing one of Regulus' shoulders. 

  "Who? Oh, Evan... yeah. He's just a private person, I think. But he seems sweet enough. He's my dorm mate, so I'm glad he likes me at least," Regulus snorted softly and turned to leave. 

  Then he paused.

  Regulus turned back around to look up at James again before taking a few steps forward and wrapping his arms around James tightly, his cheek pressing against James' shoulder. 

  "Thank you, Jamie," Regulus whispered as James' arms slid around Regulus' waist, hugging him back tightly. 

  "Anytime, Reggie," James murmured into Regulus' hair. 

  Then they pulled apart and went their separate ways. 

  As James headed back to find his friends, he couldn't help but notice an odd twisting feeling in his chest. Like his heart was being squeezed a little by some invisible force. He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair, brushing his hands down his shirt as he tried to recover some form of normalcy. It was weird... but it wasn't unpleasant, he supposed. It didn't hurt; it was just new.

Regulus Black, 11 Years Old

As Regulus left James in the corridor, his stomach was in knots. It was as though there were a horde of billywigs flitting around inside him, threatening to burst out, or perhaps just make him throw up with the way that he seemed to feel those flutters radiating out throughout his body. While part of him wished that he were in Gryffindor so that he could be closer to his brother, closer to Sirius, who had always been his protector and his champion, he was also glad that there would be less reason for him to be around the Gryffindors. He wasn't sure he could handle the flutters and sweaty palms or racing heart he seemed to get every time James was near. 

  He certainly wouldn't be spending too long thinking the matter over, anyway. It only confused him more. 

  So he walked down the corridor, towards the library where he would meet up with Evan, Evan's twin sister and the other boy that they had met on the train. Regulus smoothed down his jumper and walked up to the doors to the library, pushing on the heavy oak doors and watching them swing inward slowly, creaking as they went. It was funny that even in a world of magic, doors still seemed to creak and buildings still managed to get dilapidated, but there were always limits to what magic could do. 

  The library was quiet, as was to be expected, though there was the occasional rustle of pages, and Regulus could catch a snippet of conversation here and there. At the desk by the entrance to the library sat a stern-looking woman with dark hair threaded with silver, cat-eye glasses perched on her thin nose and frown lines between her eyebrows. She looked up and narrowed her eyes at Regulus before turning back to whatever she was doing at her desk, and he adjusted his bag on his shoulder before turning the corner and walking down the aisles between the rows of bookshelves. 

  Right at the end, he spotted Evan with his gorgeous dark skin and pale blonde hair, as well as a girl who looked almost identical to him, and a third person. He had dirty blonde hair, a lazy smirk and dark green eyes. His jaw was sharp, and he seemed to command the confidence of someone at least five years older. That must have been Barty. 

  Regulus took a deep breath and walked up towards the table where they were sitting, noting a spot on the plush sofa beside Barty. He supposed he'd have to take that one.

  "Ah, Reg... come and meet Pandora and Barty," Evan grinned up at Regulus, gesturing to the two of them, and Regulus waved at them.

  "Hi... lovely to meet you both. Evan's told me loads about you both already," Regulus gave a small smile before taking a seat next to Barty, feeling a little queasy as his arm brushed up against Barty's. 

  "All bad things, I hope," Barty teased, his lazy smirk widening as he turned to look at Regulus. 

  That lazy smirk sent Regulus' heart fluttering slightly, heat creeping up his neck and settling on his cheeks. 

  "He said you were lovely, actually... but are there bad things to hear?" Regulus asked, finding himself playing up to Barty's antics after having met him just this moment.

  It was odd. It was as if Regulus' actions were not his own. 

  "Apparently, I've always been a troubled child... so we'll have to wait and see what happens with that, won't we?" Barty drawled, his deep green eyes twinkling with mischief.

  "And how on earth did you end up in Ravenclaw and not with us, then?" Regulus quipped, a small smirk of his own forming on his rosy lips. 

  "I'm far too clever, you see. The hat said so," Barty grinned, running a hand through his dirty blonde hair, and Regulus felt his heart leap to his throat at the simple gesture. 

  "Oh? Are you saying that Slytherins can't be clever, Barty?" his voice didn't even sound like his own as he spoke; his tone was lower, smoother and laced with teasing notes. 

  "Not at all, Reggie, only that I'm clever enough to keep my true nature hidden, even from a seemingly all-knowing hat. Don't worry, I'll share all my wisdom with you three," Barty grinned and nudged Regulus with his elbow, receiving an eye roll from Regulus. 

  "And who says I even want your so-called wisdom, hm? I've plenty of brains of my own, I assure you," Regulus chuckled, his eyes crinkling slightly at the sides, that light flush still present on his cheeks. 

  The rest of their time in the library passed similarly to how it had begun. Regulus found that he rather liked both Barty and Pandora. Pandora was a little quirky and had a sort of sweet, dreamy state to her voice, and she seemed to just understand people and things like no one else could. Evan seemed very practical, whereas she seemed to be in her own head, or rather, her head was up in space half the time. Barty, though... 

  Barty was a menace in the best way possible. He managed to make Regulus laugh more than he ever remembered having laughed before. The school year was already shaping up nicely after just the first night and morning, and it all seemed to be because of the new friends that Regulus had made. He only hoped that he didn't somehow mess it all up and push them away. He'd waited so long for friends like this. 

   So long.

Chapter Text

Regulus Black, 12 Years Old

It was Regulus' birthday. October had rolled around quicker than anticipated, and Regulus' birthday came first, then Sirius'. On the morning of his birthday, Regulus was awakened by Evan, Barty and Pandora all sitting at the foot of his bed. How Evan had managed to sneak the other two in, Regulus didn't know. But it was a pleasant way to wake up, anyway. 

  Pandora's hair was braided with silver threads woven through the thick, blonde braids, and her dark skin seemed to glow against the pale backdrop of her hair. Her blue eyes were deep and shimmering, gazing at Regulus with a gorgeous smile on her full lips. Evan looked like he usually did in the mornings, his thick blonde curls all a bit flat and messy, his lips tugged up in a grin, his perfectly straight teeth glinting in the low light of the dormitory. He and Pandora were both holding large boxes wrapped in paper. 

  Barty, though... the sight of Barty took Regulus' breath away a little. His dirty blonde, almost brown hair, was tousled and messy, and he wore that usual lazy smirk. His dark green eyes glinted with mischief as he sat on the edge of Regulus' bed, and he held a simple-looking envelope in his hand. His shirt was unbuttoned a couple of buttons, and he looked... he looked extraordinarily handsome. 

  Regulus' cheeks flushed as he tried to sit up in bed, but Barty's hand came up to rest on his shoulder before he pushed him back against the pillows. There was a flicker of something different in Regulus' stomach. It was something he'd been feeling more often these days, but he didn't know what it was. All he knew was that when Barty looked at him with that sinful smirk and those gorgeous eyes... it made Regulus feel hot and sweaty and nervous, but in a good way somehow. 

  "Birthday boy gets to rest and relax while he opens his presents... happy birthday, Reggie," Barty drawled, his voice still a little rough from sleep. 

  "You guys didn't need to get me anything, you know. But- well, thank you," Regulus murmured as he got comfortable against his pillows, smoothing down his sleep shirt, becoming conscious that he didn't have the binder, which Effie had sent to him, on at that time. 

  "Oh come on, Reg... of course we did. You're our best mate. Come on, which one do you want to open first?" Evan asked, offering up his present to Regulus, who shook his head and scrubbed a hand down his face. 

  "Fine... I- well... maybe Panda's?" Regulus asked, glancing at the medium-sized box in Pandora's hand. 

  It seemed like the safest bet as he knew that Pandora would have given him something nice but not over-the-top, which he was concerned about with the other two. Evan would likely get something over-the-top, and Barty was more likely to get something jokey, or perhaps even mean. Though he was only ever mean in a teasing way, not as if he actually wanted to be horrible to Regulus. 

  Regulus really was starting to love his friends more than he had ever loved most of his family. 

  "Excellent choice, Reggie!" Pandora beamed at him, dimples forming in her deep, bronzed cheeks, and she handed over the parcel. 

  It was fairly heavy, and Regulus' brow furrowed at the realisation, though he shifted up slightly on the bed, his head resting against his headboard as he started carefully unwrapping the delicate paper from around the present. By the time he had unwrapped it, his jaw was hanging open. Pandora knew about Regulus' love for Quidditch, and she had bought him a book on the history of Quidditch, as well as his very own flying gloves and goggles to keep his eyes free of flies and wind as he zipped around in the sky. 

  It was so thoughtful, and his heart leapt at the sight of it all. 

  First Years never made the Quidditch team, and Regulus obviously wasn't on the team that year, but he and Evan had been practising quite often in an afterschool club which was hosted by Madam Hooch, using the school brooms. Now, Regulus had the perfect gear for their flying sessions. 

  "Thank you so much," Regulus gushed as he reached forward to hug Pandora. 

  "Of course, Reggie," Pandora murmured, rubbing his back gently, "now you don't have to walk around with your eyes stinging when you and Ev come back from practice."

  Next up was Evan's gift. 

  It was a very flashy watch. Very flashy. Regulus' watch had given out on him not long before, when he had managed to spill a half-brewed cure for boils over his arm during one of their potions classes. While Regulus' family had more than enough money to replace the watch, Regulus hadn't felt he could ask for a replacement. Relations with his parents were still fraught, and he didn't want to risk their wrath by admitting that he had been careless with the watch that they had gifted him on his eleventh birthday. 

  But this watch was incredible. It had a sleek black leather strap and a silver watch. Beneath the actual clockface was a constellation - the Leo constellation. Regulus thought it was perfect - it had him, right there, the brightest star. But when Regulus turned it over, his breath hitched slightly. 

  'To Regulus, the brightest star I know. Evan'

  It was an inscription. And it made Regulus' heart melt. 

  He reached forward and hugged Evan tightly, tears stinging at the corner of his eyes. 

  "Thank you. Thank you so much," he murmured against Evan's shoulder, and Evan just laughed him off, patting his back as he sat back at the end of the bed.

  "Don't mention it, Reg. Happy birthday, mate," Evan grinned and rested his head against Pandora's shoulder as he watched Regulus turn to face Barty.

  "Left the best 'til last, did you?" Barty grinned at Regulus and handed over the envelope. 

  When Regulus opened it, he found a card which was written by Barty to him. It was a short and sweet message, just wishing him a wonderful birthday. But there was something else in the envelope, too. It was a small painting, a watercolour. Of Regulus during one of their study sessions in the library. The light falling in through the library window, kissing Regulus' skin just so, and Regulus' hair was tumbling slightly over his forehead, too. Regulus' breath caught in his throat as he turned over the small painting to see a note from Barty. 

  'You looked so peaceful here... I had to recreate it for you. Happy Birthday, Reggie.'

  Barty had painted it himself. From memory. A memory of Regulus. 

  "B... thank you," Regulus breathed out, and he wrapped his arms around Barty tightly, burying his face in the other boy's neck. 

  Barty tensed up for a moment before wrapping his arms around Regulus' waist and nuzzling his face into his dark curls. They sat like that for a moment, as if neither one wished to pull away. 

  "You just looked really nice that day, that's all," Barty murmured into Regulus' hair as he ran his fingertips up and down Regulus' back, still just holding him close. 

  "You always look nice, but I'm not sure I can manage to do such a nice painting of you," Regulus murmured against Barty's neck. 

  The two of them were like this a lot. They hugged and sat so close to each other, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. After knowing each other for only a few months, they were thick as thieves. Evan and Pandora were their best friends, too, but the two of them were essentially one person with how close they were, so it was nice that Regulus and Barty had the same between the two of them. Closeness, proximity and comfort. 

  "Right, this was lovely, but we all need to go and get ready for breakfast," Evan cleared his throat as he looked on at Regulus and Barty, still locked in their embrace. 

  Regulus reluctantly pulled away from Barty, smoothing down his shirt as he glanced across at Evan and Pandora. Barty let out a soft chuckle, and his hand dragged across Regulus' back as he released him. 

  "That's true... I'll go and shower then, meet you down there? You all look dressed and ready to go, only me left," Regulus chuckled and went to push back his covers. 

  "This guy doesn't get dressed unless he showers, prissy thing at that," Evan chuckled and got up from Regulus' bed, leaning against the bedpost at the end of the bed. 

  "I'm just living with the lessons instilled in me by my awful parents," Regulus chuckled and pushed back the covers, getting out of bed. 

  Everything went silent. 

  Regulus' stomach dropped as he looked back at the bed. 

  Blood. 

  He hadn't even thought. He knew he was due on... but he hadn't even thought. What an awful birthday gift. His friends were there, too, and he knew that they saw it. He could see it in the way they all quickly averted their gazes and their whole bodies tensed up. He looked between Barty and Evan, and Pandora, and he wanted to cry. Bawl his eyes out and scream. He had done so well at keeping his secret to himself. 

  But it was surely out, now. 

  "I can explain... I-" Regulus started, but Pandora cut him off, with that ethereal voice of hers. 

  "You don't need to explain anything to us, Reggie. I understand," she murmured, and Regulus met her gaze, knowing that she, out of all of them, would definitely understand this particular predicament. 

  "It's... I'm..." Regulus felt every word he was trying to say, just dying in his throat. 

  This conversation was big. Too big for this early in the morning, when he hadn't even woken up properly. 

  "Reggie... we love you. All of you. And even if you were born slightly different, that doesn't matter... right, boys?" Pandora asked, glancing around at Barty and Evan, whose brains seemed to be catching up now.

  "Yeah, of course. I knew you were a little different anyway... this makes so much more sense," Evan chuckled, reaching out and squeezing Regulus' shoulder. 

  "So you're, what? Born... a girl?" Barty asked, tilting his head to the side as he looked at Regulus. 

  "I-yeah... yeah, I guess so," Regulus murmured, looking down and fiddling with the hem of his night shirt. 

  "And no one else knows?" Barty asked, taking a few steps around the bed and glancing at Regulus as he drew nearer. 

  "No one knows. Apart from my cousins and my brother. And his friend James, actually... but that's it," Regulus admitted, feeling ashamed all of a sudden. 

  A beat passed. 

  "Well, I won't tell a soul, Reggie," Barty murmured, and he wrapped his arms around Regulus again, pulling him into his arms, pressing him against his chest. 

  "You won't?" Regulus murmured, his voice half muffled by Barty's chest. 

  "Of course not. As Panda said... we love you, Reggie. All of you," Barty murmured into Regulus' hair, stroking his back gently, "now... go and get showered and dressed and we'll head to breakfast. Keep the festivities going all day for your birthday."

  Regulus felt ten times lighter as he walked towards the bathroom that morning, as if the saying 'a problem shared, a problem halved' was exactly correct. Since his friends found out and had accepted him, it felt as though he had less to worry about, less that he needed to keep from them. He could tell them the truth now, particularly when they noticed he was uncomfortable or when he was sweating because he was too hot, but he refused to take off his thick jumper. All of it would be ten times easier now. 

  He only wished everyone in life would feel the same, but he knew it was a foolish want.

James Potter, 12 Years Old

It was Regulus' birthday. Sirius had told James that about a week ago, and James had panicked and sent a letter to his parents immediately, letting them know. He had a small gift for Regulus from himself and then one from his parents, also. Sirius had got him something, and James only hoped that the Black brothers' parents had also got Regulus something. Something nice, anyway. 

  The year before, Sirius had received a Howler on his birthday, along with a book on how to behave like a respectable pureblood heir. 

  As James made his way down to breakfast that morning with Remus, Sirius and Peter in tow, he couldn't help but keep an eye out for the dark-haired younger boy whose birthday it was.

  He spotted him when they entered the Great Hall, sitting with his friend Evan, who seemed like a moody git most of the time when James was around. Which wasn't often, these days, truth be told. James let out a soft huff of breath and grabbed Sirius' arm, dragging him over to the Slytherin table, where they weren't likely to receive a warm welcome at all. 

  "Happy Birthday, Reggie," Sirius smiled at his brother, and Regulus tensed up but glanced up at James and Sirius all the time, a weak smile on his lips. 

  "Thank you, brother. James," Regulus nodded, his eyes darting to the side, noticing the Black cousins entering the Great Hall. 

  That explains why he's so tense, James thought to himself. 

  "These are from me and my parents," James murmured quietly and handed the presents in his hands to Regulus. 

  "And this is from me," Sirius gave Regulus' shoulder a light squeeze and handed over his present. 

  "I- thank you," Regulus muttered, his cheeks flushing as he looked down at the gifts before him on the table. 

  As Regulus unwrapped his presents, his gaze kept flitting to the Black cousins who were watching the three of them from the end of the Slytherin table. Sirius had given him a new bottle of that aftershave he had been using, and a little card with it. Euphemia and Fleamont had gifted Regulus a new jumper, as James had mentioned that Regulus was constantly wearing that baggy green jumper Euphemia had knitted for him when he first started at the school. 

  Then it came to opening the gift that James had gotten for Regulus. 

  Regulus let out a shaky breath before unwrapping the present, and he slipped it out of its box. It was a small pouch. It didn't look like anything much, but when Regulus opened it and stuck his hand inside, his hand went much further down than the size of the bag appeared from the outside. It had an extension charm. The pouch itself was sleek and black with a star and moon pattern around the opening of the pouch, along with a small silver drawstring. 

  "It's an undetectable extension charm... thought it might be handy for carrying around any, uh... personal items," James smiled down at Regulus, who nodded slowly and then slipped the pouch into the pocket of his robe. 

  "Thank you... both of you, for all of this. It means a lot," Regulus offered a small smile and then sipped his coffee.

  After a somewhat awkward exchange, Sirius and James left Regulus with Evan at the Slytherin table, so that they could make their way back to the Gryffindor table to sit and eat their breakfast. 

  Once there, James sat down beside Remus, his gaze drifting back over to the Slytherin table every so often, mostly so that he could keep an eye on Regulus now that the Black cousins were floating around again. He knew how the cousins had been over the past year, where Sirius was concerned, and he simply wanted to make sure that they weren't the same with Regulus. 

  Though with what Regulus had told him about the heirship... James wasn't sure he needed to worry. Though perhaps their interest in moulding Regulus to be just like them, to take over from Sirius, was reason enough to worry. He hadn't mentioned that conversation to Sirius, of course, as he had told Regulus that the younger boy could trust him. Still, James felt bad about keeping something like that from his best friend. It had been tearing him up inside for the best part of two months, but he had stayed strong. He'd kept his mouth shut and been able to keep both boys happy so far. 

  Though he knew Sirius would be livid with him when he eventually found out, if he then realised that James had already known.

  "What are we doing for your birthday, Si?" Remus asked as James and Sirius sat down properly and started loading food on their plates. 

  It was an important question, James supposed, as Sirius' birthday had sort of been derailed the year before with his parents' awful behaviour towards him overshadowing the whole day. Though James couldn't help but get slightly annoyed by the fact that his friends were focusing on Sirius' birthday when it was Regulus' birthday that day... but he supposed that Remus and Peter didn't particularly know Regulus very well, so it couldn't have been helped. 

  James was also unsure as to whether he was just feeling more sensitive to the issue because he was watching Regulus laughing and joking with the boy he was friends with. Evan Rosier. The one who didn't seem to like James very much and who was most likely the reason that Regulus had become so shifty when James and Sirius had gone over to see him that morning. 

   Still, he and Sirius had given Regulus their presents for him, and that was that.

   It didn’t help James to stop thinking about the younger boy at all, though. Nothing ever did.

Chapter Text

Regulus Black, 12 Years Old

It was time to go home. Home was an odd word, and Regulus felt like he was leaving his home, not returning to it. But as he climbed off the Hogwarts Express with his friends in tow, he knew he had to face whatever was coming to him. His parents had been furious with Sirius when he had returned home the year before. He only hoped that he might be spared the same cruelty. 

   Evan squeezed Regulus' shoulder and told him to write to him over the summer. Pandora kissed his cheek and gave him one of her pretty, almost blinding smiles. Barty paused and told Regulus that he would always be welcome at Crouch Estate if things got too bad, and Regulus knew exactly what he meant. They had hugged, then, and bid each other a heartfelt farewell. 

   Alone. Again. 

   Regulus kept his head held high, his shoulders straight and his chin up as he walked through the bustling train station platform towards his parents. They were standing over to the side, away from all of the other parents, as they always did. The only company they had were Regulus' aunt and uncle, Cygnus and Druella. All four of the Black parents, for their generation, cut imposing and daunting figures in the crowd. Sleek, chic clothing and pinched, haughty features. All with the signature black curls and pale skin, high cheekbones and austere scowls on their faces. 

   He greeted his parents first, a handshake for his father and a kiss to his mother's cheek, before turning and giving the same greeting to both Cygnus and Druella. 

   "Regulus, Narcissa has told us so much about you." Druella gave a polite smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. 

   If he was being honest with himself, Regulus was simply grateful that they had heard about him from Narcissa rather than Bellatrix. He imagined that there would be a wide disparity between both accounts. 

   "He's done the house proud this year, it seems," Orion commented stiffly, giving a brief nod towards his brother-in-law. 

   An odd feeling settled in Regulus' chest. Fear intermingled with pride. It wasn't something he had experienced before, particularly not where his parents were concerned. He had always lived in fear of their rejection, of their belittling him at every turn. Yet somehow he had managed to make them... proud? 

   Life was far too confusing.

   Everything changed, then. The atmosphere seemed to thicken dramatically, and Regulus turned his head to see where his parents were looking. No, glaring at. 

   Sirius had just stepped off the train with his arm slung around Remus' shoulder, while James and Peter laughed beside the two of them. The youngest Black brother glanced around and spotted Fleamont and Euphemia, James' parents, over to the side, barely ten feet away from the Blacks. All four Gryffindor boys made their way in the direction of the two sets of families, and Regulus felt as though he were awaiting the end of the world. Awaiting doomsday. 

   "Reggie! There you are," James grinned in Regulus' direction, and Regulus felt his cheeks heating up instantly.

   Regulus went to take a step forward, towards the older boy, but felt a firm hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place. He glanced behind him and saw his father giving him a stern look. So he stood still. He offered James a polite smile, but didn't respond. James' face fell, Sirius' previously jovial expression soured instantly, and Remus and Peter just looked... lost. Regulus had been friendly with James, with all of them, throughout the school year. But under his parents' watchful eye, he knew he couldn't be seen to be being friendly with them. 

   Half of the reason that Sirius had been punished so badly over the course of the previous summer was due to his being in Gryffindor, for fraternising with what his parents referred to as 'blood traitors'. Regulus' position in the family was tenuous enough on account of him being transgender... he couldn't be seen to be friends with people like that, or he may as well start painting another target on his own back. 

   "I'll write to you guys... yeah, no I will... alright, fine," Sirius mumbled to James, Remus and Peter, though Regulus couldn't quite hear the other side of the conversation. 

   Sirius made his way over to the Black family, and he wore a neutral expression on his face as he nodded down at Regulus before greeting his parents and then his aunt and uncle in the same way that Regulus had done previously. He then shook Regulus' hand as well. 

   "Reggie," he murmured, and Regulus shot a small, weak smile up at his older brother. 

   "Siri," he nodded and then the two of them turned back to face their parents, just as Bellatrix and Narcissa arrived in front of them all. 

   "Excellent. Now we're all here, we have matters to attend to. I trust you can find your way to the manor?" Orion glanced across at Cygnus and Druella, who nodded and placed a hand each on Narcissa and Bellatrix's shoulders. 

   The Manor?

   Regulus' eyes widened, and he glanced up at Sirius, who was chewing on the inside of his cheek. Walburga placed a firm hand on Regulus' shoulder, and Orion placed his hand on Sirius' shoulder. 

   Before either brother could say a word, or even think it, it was as though Regulus was being sucked through a tight tube. His stomach churned, and everything seemed to spin as he hurtled through space with his mother's hand digging into his shoulder. They had been apparated away. To The Manor, it seemed. 

   While Regulus and Sirius lived in Grimmauld Place with their parents for the majority of the year, the family often spent some time in the ancestral home of the Black family. At the centre of the land was a manor, though it was more a gargantuan and extravagant stately home by Regulus' estimations. Fields rolled around the building for over a mile each way, with lakes and forests and various beautiful nature walks set throughout the grounds. There were stables of Abraxans and a staff of twelve house elves, as the property was too large for just the one. It had twenty bedrooms, a ballroom, a large dining hall and a small one, a parlour room, two offices and a library. Among other smaller storage rooms, a kitchen and bathrooms for each of the bedrooms, as well as a guest bathroom.

   If they were going to the manor so early in the summer... it meant that something was wrong. Dreadfully wrong. 

   There was an icy pit of fear in Regulus' stomach as the family arrived on the doorstep of the manor, the door swinging inward at once when Orion held his hand to the ornate knocker on the door. Once inside, they turned to see Cygnus, Druella and the two girls walking up the gravel drive. 

   Walburga ushered the boys into the parlour room and instructed them to sit down on the small sofa to the side, where they were shortly joined by Bellatrix and Narcissa. Druella, Cygnus and Walburga sat on the larger sofa facing the children. Orion, however, stood. He was the head of the family, and clearly, he was preparing to give some sort of speech or a lecture. 

   Sirius subtly found Regulus' hand between the two of them on the sofa and squeezed it tightly. 

   "I am sure that you're wondering why we're here, children. Am I correct?" Orion asked, glancing down at the four of them.

   When all four children nodded, Orion began to speak about family values, about preserving the image of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. It was all drivel they'd heard before, countless times, and it seemed as if Orion was getting absolutely nowhere with what he was saying for quite some time. He barely even paused to take a breath. Regulus couldn't help but feel that it was an entire waste of their time to even be sitting there before him. Everyone knew all of the things he was spouting, so why did the family need to gather at the Manor House just to listen to more pureblood-mania-centred spiel? 

   All of the family was there for this? 

   Well, all of the family except for Andromeda, the eldest of the Black sisters. 

   "I'm sure that among the four of you, at least one of you will have noticed that we are fewer in numbers today. Your cousin - or, in the case of Bellatrix and Narcissa, your sister - is no longer welcome within the sanctity of these walls. She had been struck from the family tree and disinherited. Unfortunately, it appears that Andromeda did not heed our teachings or our warnings.

   "As of the end of last year, she did produce a child with one Edward Tonks, who is of muggle descent. The pair are now married and living somewhere in Somerset as far as I am aware, but neither Andromeda nor her abomination of a child will be permitted within the walls of a Black residence so long as I am alive and well. And I trust that these values shall be upheld long after I am gone, by whomever takes up the mantel as head of this family." Orion's hand was waving around in the air as if to punctuate each syllable, and his usually pale face was almost purple due to how reddened with anger it had become. 

   Everyone turned to look at Sirius when Orion spoke about the next head of the family continuing to uphold the values. But Sirius looked confused. Orion had not directed that solely at Sirius. He had used the phrase 'whomever takes up the mantel'. Sirius was the heir. He had been since birth. So who else could he be referring to? 

   Regulus watched as Sirius' features morphed from confusion to understanding and then to... well, hurt? Betrayal? Regulus couldn't quite pinpoint what it was that his brother was feeling, but none of it was good. 

   No one said anything, and so Orion continued. 

   "After this conversation, none of you shall speak her name. The whole family are a disgrace to Wizarding kind, and we shall not associate with such people," Orion nodded succinctly and then glanced over at Cygnus, "now, onto more positive matters."

   Orion took a step to the side, to allow Cygnus 'centre-stage' and Narcissa and Bellatrix seemed to smile a little as their father began speaking. Regulus presumed they knew what he was about to announce, and it made his stomach turn slightly. 

   "We have had a knock to our morale this past year, but we also have some lovely news to share. While there have been informal betrothals for both of my beautiful daughters from their birth, there has not yet been a formal marriage proposal. However, as you are both growing up so fast, it appears the time is now. Rodolphus Lestrange has officially proposed his intent to marry Bellatrix and has offered this ring:" Cygnus brandished a sleek black ring with a white diamond in the centre to Bellatrix.

   When she slipped it onto her ring finger, it seemed as though there was a dark, shimmering, almost pulsating magic which hung in the air around her. It seemed to coil and swirl around her until it closed in on her. Closer and closer to her pale skin and dark features, before dissipating entirely. 

   "Congratulations, Bellatrix, it is a very respectable match," Cygnus gave a tight-lipped smile, and Bellatrix preened under the praise as she inspected her ring, "and Narcissa... you haven't quite left school yet, a couple of years to go. But you are now sixteen. And Lucius Malfoy has declared his intent to marry you, with the accompanying ring."

   Cygnus offered Narcissa her ring. It was a beautifully ornate silver band with a large diamond in the centre and two smaller emeralds on either side of it. Narcissa slid it onto her ring finger, and a bright, silver glow encapsulated her for a moment before fizzling out. 

   Two very different girls, two very different rings, and two very different magics, it appeared. Regulus knew that family magics were different depending on which family you came from, and that different wedding bands or engagement rings were often imbued with not only family magic but also other enchantments. What he didn't know was what the different reactions meant. 

   Narcissa had always been more docile and subdued, more sweet and light. And her ring mirrored that. Bellatrix had always been dark and cruel, and the magic which surrounded her after she had tried on the ring seemed to be volatile, though Regulus couldn't be sure it wasn't just a coincidence. 

   The rest of the conversation and congratulations passed painfully slowly, and all Regulus could think about was what his own future might bring him. His family had begrudgingly accepted his identity, and that was fine, but... what would his future look like? Would he have to marry a man and have children? Would he marry a woman, and then a secret plot ensue to ensure that there was an heir? There were too many questions, and it made Regulus' head spin. 

   "Are you wondering about your own future, Regulus?" Walburga's voice cut through the rabble, and Regulus' head whipped around to face her, his eyes wide. 

   "Yes, mother," he nodded, and she gave a curt nod, glancing up at Orion. 

   "Perhaps that conversation is one for another day. For now, we have guests in attendance this evening, and all of you shall need to ready yourselves ahead of their arrival. There are clothes laid out for each of you in your respective bedrooms. Do make yourselves look presentable, also, though. Clothes alone are not sufficient in looking like a respectable pureblood," Orion announced, and then he turned on the heel of his dress shoes and left the room without another word. 

Regulus was pacing in his bedroom within the Manor House, his head too full of thoughts about his prospective future to be able to think about anything else. What made it worse was that he didn't exactly have anyone to talk to about it. His father had shut down the conversation at once; he knew his mother, aunt, and uncle would all follow his father's lead; his cousins would likely do the same. He wasn't even sure that he could talk to Sirius about it. 

   Where Regulus had always felt like he could talk to Sirius about anything in the past, it felt like there was a divide there now. 

   Sirius had been knocked by Regulus being sorted into Slytherin, though they had mostly managed to overcome that. But Sirius hadn't known about the conversation about Regulus' potential for taking on the heirship. Until, perhaps, today. While Orion had not said it in so many words, the vagueness of their father's words had surely sent alarm bells ringing in Sirius's head, and Sirius was by no means stupid. He knew that Regulus would likely be the only other contender, on account of the family magics accepting him as male.

   What Regulus needed was a confidante. Someone who would support him and let him rant or ask his questions, even if they might not be able to answer them fully. His first thought was Barty or Evan or Pandora. But they came from similar backgrounds to his, so he wasn't sure if they would be the right people to talk to. The Rosier twins had a strict pureblood upbringing, and he doubted that their family would have any hard and fast rules on what to do when a transgender man came of marriageable age. The Crouch family were pureblooded but not fanatics. He doubted Barty would be able to help. 

   But... the Potters might. 

   Even if they weren't able to help or give him advice, he was sure that James would be sympathetic to his cause, and James already knew about the nuances surrounding the heirship and clearly hadn't relayed any of that information to Sirius. 

   Plus... Regulus just wanted to speak to James. He wanted to apologise for how he had acted on the train station platform, to thank him for the support he had received from James over the course of the year, and for how lovely his parents were. He wanted to ask what his summer plans were, how his parents were doing, how he was doing-

   Regulus wanted to know everything there was to know about James Potter.

James Potter, 13 Years Old

It was difficult for James to explain how he was feeling after he and his parents had left the train station platform that day. On the one hand, he was grateful to see his parents again, and he liked that he wouldn’t need to do any school work for the better part of a couple of months. But on the other hand? He was worried about Sirius, as he had been the year before. Though it seemed worse this time around. Sirius had told James about his cousin, who had been found having relations with a muggleborn, so they all knew that it was likely that his family would only be more hellbent on ensuring that none of the other children followed suit. 

   Then there was Regulus.

   Regulus was more sensitive than Sirius was, on a number of levels and for a number of reasons. But they had bonded over the past year, he was sure of it. Where Regulus had perhaps been drifting away from Sirius a bit, James thought that he had managed to become someone for Regulus. Someone to trust, someone who could look out for him. But then to see how he had reacted at the train station platform when all James had done was wave? It was like a punch to the gut. No, it was worse than that. Worse than a bludger to the chest - which James would know all about, of course. 

   Regulus’ eyes had filled with fear and apprehension, his parents looming over him like angels of sorrow and despair. James supposed that it was fairly normal for the Black family, though, so he didn’t want to read too much into it. 

   It kept playing on a loop in his mind, though. 

   He headed straight for his room when he got home, locking the door behind him and kicking his foot into the wardrobe door. If it hadn’t been magically charmed to repel scuffs and damage like the rest of the furniture in the Potters’ house, then he was sure there would have been a great big hole in the door. But it was unscathed. It almost made James angrier. It was a representation of how little he could actually do - how little he could actually help Regulus and Sirius out of their current predicament. 

   He had tried the summer before, just before the start of the school term. His parents had gone to Dumbledore for help - Dumbledore! Yet he’d said he was unable to do anything. 

   James very much doubted that Dumbledore looked into the matter, though. 

   He pulled out his Quidditch playbook and started scanning the pages, mentally walking himself through the various plays in an attempt to soothe his raging storm of a mind. It sometimes helped. 

   Today was not one of those days, though. 

   A scratching at the window snapped him out of his angry wallowing, and he tossed the battered copy of his Quidditch playbook aside on his bed, hearing the small tome bounce off the bed and hit the floor almost immediately after. There was an owl at the window. 

   Confusion marred James’ features, and he crossed the wooden floorboards of his bedroom and unlatched the window to let the owl in. It was a jet black owl with piercing yellow eyes. It was Regulus’ owl, Raven. James untied the letter from Raven’s talons and unfurled the parchment, spotting Regulus’ elegant scrawl in that familiar emerald green ink and began to read, as he sat down on his bed. 

‘James, 

I’m sorry for ignoring you at the station. I didn’t want to… but with my mother and father there, I just didn’t want to risk any retribution. 

Thank you for all your help this past year, and for your parents’ help, also. I’m not sure I would have survived even the first day at Hogwarts without your support before arriving. I wanted to say all of this to you in person, but I kept getting too scared, or my friends were around, and they just wouldn’t have understood. You understand, though, I’m sure you do. 

You’ve been such an amazing friend to me, just as you are to Sirius. I wish it wasn’t always you having to help me, to coach me through things… I wish I could help you with something sometime. Maybe there will be time for that in the future, though. 

I do need your help, though. Again. We’re staying at one of the other Black family properties a little earlier than anticipated. Andromeda has been disowned and struck from the family tree. Bellatrix and Narcissa have officially become engaged to Rodolphus Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy, respectively. And… my father didn’t refer to Sirius as the heir to carry on his legacy; he only referred to ‘whomever shall take his place’. Sirius knows that I’m being considered now, I suppose. I imagine you’ll hear all about it from him. Thank you for keeping that secret for me; it means the world to me. 

But now I can’t help wondering what my future will look like. The girls are being sold off to the highest bidding men, essentially. Sirius will be expected to marry some brainless girl at some point, too. All of them will be expected to produce heirs to carry on the Black name. But what of me? I asked that, sort of… but my father said it was a conversation for another time. It’s now more than ever that I wonder whether I should have just hidden away who I am, to make it easier for myself. Where I used to know what was expected of me, I now have no clue. 

I don’t want to be forced to marry anyone, and I certainly don’t want to marry some awful man and do things the natural way if I am supposed to have heirs myself. But I can’t do the research on these matters here. So… if you can, could you perhaps do some research for me? About what my options might be. It’s okay if not, I can research it all when I get back to school. But it’s just filling me with dread, and if you can do that research, I would really appreciate it. 

That’s all for now… a long-winded way of essentially saying thank you for everything and asking yet another thing of you. But I have to get ready for some fancy dinner tonight. 

I hope you and your parents are well - please tell me everything you’re planning on getting up to this summer. Perhaps I can live vicariously through you? 

Yours gratefully, 

Reggie.’

James read the letter over a few times. Regulus had been right; it was an awfully long-winded letter for what it was essentially about. But James would definitely be researching everything he possibly could. He wanted to help, desperately. Just to see if there was any way that he could lessen the anxiety and concern that Regulus might have been feeling. Though there was part of him that worried that Sirius might be upset if he found out that James was helping Regulus prepare for the future that might end with Sirius being pushed out of the family, stripped of his birthright. 

   With a swimming head and a heavy heart, James walked down the stairs and into the living room to see his parents sitting side by side, listening to the wizarding wireless as they usually did in the evenings with a pot of tea between them.

   “Mãe, podemos conversar?” James asked his mother, wishing to speak with her, rather than his father. 

   It wasn’t that Fleamont wouldn’t want to help in some way; it was just that… James had always been closer to his mother, particularly where matters of the heart or things concerning his friends came into play. 

   “Claro, meu amor,” Euphemia smiled up at him, and she stood up slowly, carrying her cup of tea with her, through to the small library within Potter Manor. 

   When the two of them had sat down in either of the comfy armchairs in the library, James let out a shaky sigh and ran a hand over his face. 

   “What is it, meu amor?” Euphemia asked gently, and James glanced up at her, fiddling with a loose thread on his jeans.

   “It’s Reggie. He’s okay… but he and Sirius are at some other location for a while, another Black property. Some fancy dinner or something. And his dad basically confirmed that there’s some sort of debate over who will take over as head of the family when he passes. So now Sirius knows, and that’s likely to cause some issues between the two of them. Mostly, though, Reggie is worried about what will happen to him in the future. His cousins are engaged now, marrying some idiot men, of course. Sirius will likely be pressured to marry a woman. All of them will be expected to produce heirs. But no one will tell Reggie what they expect of him when the time comes,” James explained, wringing his hands slightly. 

   Euphemia let out a soft sigh and leaned forward, setting her cup of tea down and taking James’ hands in her own. Her hands were worn and weathered by age, though they were still a rich, deep brown, where James’ were a slightly lighter, almost golden bronze colour, on account of Fleamont’s genes.

   “Meu amor, I love that you care so deeply for these boys… and I am glad that they have a friend in you. But I am also glad you came to me. You are far too young to take this burden on your own shoulders, meu lindo filho,” Euphemia gave him a warm smile and squeezed his hands gently, “I’m sure we have some books somewhere about lineage and heirship. Perhaps we can start there? And then I have been reading up on transgender issues. There are some books that I’m not sure are quite age-appropriate, yet. But I’ll give you some of the ones that should help. How does that sound?”

   James got up out of his seat and crossed the small distance between himself and his mother and threw his arms around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, her thick, dark hair tickling his nose slightly. But he didn’t mind. He just squeezed her tightly and basked in the comfort and warmth which she provided. 

   “Thank you, mamãe,” he whispered, and she nodded, just stroking his back gently.

Chapter Text

Regulus Black, 12 Years Old

The summer had felt incredibly long. Before Hogwarts, Regulus always found it bearable to be at home with his family, but after just a small taste of the freedom that Hogwarts allowed, it suddenly felt unbearable. So when the letters had arrived from the school, Regulus was overjoyed. It would only be a few weeks until he was back at Hogwarts and away from the gloomy halls of Grimmauld Place, which is where the Black family had returned after spending two weeks at the Manor. 

   On their first night at the Manor, there had been a dinner for the Black children, their parents and then also the families of Lestrange and Malfoy. It was an odd and mostly uncomfortable engagement dinner for the happy couples. Or, one happy couple and one that Regulus wasn’t sure whether they would be perfect for each other or if they would kill each other within the first year of marriage. His cousin Bellatrix had always been slightly unhinged, but it seemed that her now fiancé Rodolohus was even worse. 

   Sirius had been distant with him, too, which made matters worse. 

   Ever since their father had mentioned not just Sirius being in the running for taking over as head of the family, Sirius had avoided most conversations with Regulus. 

   It had been Regulus’ loneliest summer yet, or it felt that way. He had spent a whole year apart from Sirius when Sirius had initially gone to Hogwarts without him, but somehow this had felt worse. Perhaps it was because Sirius was right down the hall and yet still felt so distant, so cold. Either way, Regulus had not been able to cope with it much at all. 

   His self-destructive tendencies had come back. 

   After the worst day he had previously had, towards the end of the previous summer, Regulus had been regularly self-harming. But he’d stopped for a while. When things were going well with his friends and he felt like he was really getting a handle on things in his life, he hadn’t felt the need. That had lasted three weeks right up until the second week of the summer holidays, when he was feeling lower and lonelier than ever.

   The letters he had received from his friends barely seemed to touch the sides of that gaping pit of sorrow he felt eating away at him. He knew he was weak; he was stupid. Nothing he ever did was right, so he felt the need to punish himself for it. Things were out of control, and he needed to regain some of that control. 

   And so every evening went the same way as the one before. Night after night after night. He would slip out of his bedroom and down the hallway to the bathroom, which he shared with Sirius. He would lock the door and turn on the shower. Then he’d sink down against the cool tiles of the shower wall as the scalding water rained down on him. That was when he’d take his razor and carve monstrous gashes into his thighs. It stung, it felt excruciating at times as the hot water poured over the cuts, washing the blood down into the plug hole. 

   Yet he felt he couldn’t stop. It was never enough. 

   He deserved this. 

   It was worse around that time, when his body betrayed his heart and reminded him yet again that he would never be a ‘real man’. No matter how many times Sirius or James had told him otherwise. No matter how many times Pandora and Evan and Barty had told him that he was more of a man than most of the men they knew. It was still there in the back of his head. 

   The words his mother and father had told him when they initially found out… he supposed they would haunt him for the rest of his life. Even if they were begrudgingly complying with his life and his identity in recent times. He knew it was more out of wanting to maintain the family’s image, of having another option if everything with Sirius went too far south, like it had with Andromeda the year before. 

   So he cut himself until there was barely an inch of unmarred skin covering the expanse of his thighs. Then he started on his hips, which were too wide for his liking, too womanly. 

   “Reggie, hurry up in there! I need a piss!” Sirius banged on the door one evening, causing Regulus to slip as he carved a deep line into the meaty flesh of his thigh..

   The blade went deeper than he had intended. He called out in pain, gasping and panting as blood flowed far too quickly from the wound. He blinked away angry tears and applied pressure to the wound, the water still running over him. 

   “Go downstairs!” Regulus choked out as he panicked, trying to find something outside of the shower to stem the blood flow. 

   As he grabbed a towel from the rail, he slipped a bit and thudded into the door, pressing the towel to his thigh and hissing through gritted teeth as the fluffy material of the towel clung to the blood flowing out. 

   “Reggie, what’s going on in there? Are you okay?” Sirius asked, and Regulus groaned as he slid down to the floor, pulling his dressing gown on around him, covering himself up as much as possible. 

   “Y-yeah, I’m fine, Siri… just… go downstairs, please,” Regulus called back, and Sirius clearly ignored his request, trying the door handle, “it’s locked, just go downstairs!”

   Sirius tried the door handle again, more frantically this time as he heard the panic in Regulus’ voice. They may not have been talking, but they were still brothers. 

   “Reggie, let me in… please?” Sirius asked, and Regulus hesitated for a moment before finally relenting when he saw the blood now seeping through the towel. 

   More than anything, he was concerned that he’d hit a major artery in his thigh or something - he wasn’t exactly an anatomy expert, but he knew there had to be some sort of important vein in his thigh, and with the way his blood was spilling out, he was concerned. Regulus was not suicidal; he just had a deep-rooted hatred for himself that only seemed to subside when he harmed himself. 

   Once Regulus had reached up and unlocked the door, Sirius opened it and stepped inside, closing the door behind him and glancing down at Regulus slumped against the shower door. It was like a horror scene. There was a blood splatter on the shower tiles, pink-red water circling the drain; Regulus’ hand and the towel he was holding against his leg were both drenched in blood. 

   “Reggie… what happened?” Sirius asked, his voice cracking slightly as his eyes flitted around the bathroom and then locked in on the razor blade in the shower, still slick with blood, “did you… did you do this yourself?”

   “I- yeah… you scared me when you knocked on the door and I slipped, okay?” he muttered, cheeks flushing a deep pink as he looked away, ashamed. 

   Not ashamed of his actions, but ashamed of messing up and getting caught.

   “Reggie… why would you- let me see it- no, just come here,” Sirius muttered as Regulus tried to scoot away from him on the bathroom floor.

   Regulus finally relented and lifted the bottom of his dressing gown slightly, taking the towel away from his thigh. There were countless scars and cuts, all at varying stages of healing, and he looked away as Sirius finally saw what he’d been doing to himself for the past year. As well as the deep wound he’d just given himself accidentally. 

   Neither of them said anything for a while, as Sirius reached for the medicine kit in the bathroom cabinet and started rifling through it. There were salves and balms and various potions, all for different things. After a while, he managed to find a calming draught, some murtlap extract and some essence of dittany. He unstoppered the bottle of calming draught and tipped a few drops into Regulus’ mouth, hoping to calm him down slightly as he was beginning to hyperventilate. Then he used the dropper for the essence of dittany and applied some to the wound, as well as the other smaller ones on his brother’s thigh. Once they had started healing up and closing, he added the murtlap extract to help with the scarring. 

   “There. All sorted,” he murmured quietly and then shifted to pull Regulus close to him, almost forcing the younger boy to rest his head on Sirius’ chest. 

   “Thank you,” Regulus whispered as he buried his face against Sirius’ chest. 

   “You don’t ever have to thank me for anything, Reggie. I’m sorry I haven’t been there, and I’m sorry I didn’t realise how much you were struggling. But, please… don’t do this to yourself. Please let me help you,” Sirius mumbled into Regulus’ hair, stroking the younger boy’s back gently. 

   “I- yeah. Yeah, okay. I just- it’s so difficult all the time, it just gets too much and I can’t think. I can’t… I struggle. That’s all,” Regulus spoke quietly as he clutched at Sirius’ nightshirt, “I’ve missed you, Siri.”

   “I’ve been right here, little star,” he replied, and Regulus shook his head, letting out an indignant huff.

   “You haven’t. Not really. Ever since that first day of the summer holidays, you’ve barely spoken to me. Avoided me every time I’ve tried to talk to you. I’ve been so alone, Siri. And I know you have been, too. Why won’t you just talk to me? Are you that upset about what father said at the Manor? I never wanted to be thrown into the ring for consideration for the heirship. I just want to be myself, okay? And I… I need my big brother back,” Regulus admitted, tears sliding down his cheeks now as he gazed up at Sirius with red-rimmed, wide grey eyes. 

   Sirius couldn’t help but think about how far Regulus had come in being himself, in standing up for what he wanted in his life. Yet, sat there on the bathroom floor, he looked younger than he did when he first told Sirius that he was actually a boy. It was heartbreaking to see, and Sirius wished that he could just go back two weeks and shake some sense into himself, so that his baby brother wouldn’t end up feeling so lost and alone without him. 

   But he couldn’t do that. 

   All he could do was be there for him now. 

   “I know. I know, Reg. I’m sorry for shutting you out. I just- I struggle to be what they want me to be at the best of times, and hearing something like that come out? It made me panic. Made me think the worst, that you were somehow in cahoots with them or something- no, I know it’s stupid, okay? But that’s what it made me feel,” Sirius admitted, and he held Regulus closer to him, pressing a soft kiss to his brother’s temple.

   “I would never do anything like that to you, Siri. Never. You’re my brother, and I love you. After everything you’ve done for me over the years, how could I ever do something as awful as going behind your back like that? I’m not like them. Neither of us is, and you know that,” Regulus reminded him, his fingers curling into the material of Sirius’ shirt even tighter than before, “please just speak to me in future, rather than just freezing me out. It hurts so badly when you do that. Please?”

   Sirius nodded and kissed Regulus’ forehead, murmuring a soothing promise to always be there for him, to always speak to him in future, even if he was angry or scared or pissed off. That was enough for Regulus. Enough to soothe his aching heart and his warring mind. 

   Sometimes, a hug and gently whispered words of comfort were all a person needed, even if they felt like their world was being held together by a weak thread. But it was enough to stop the chasm from opening up below Regulus. At least, for now.

Over the subsequent few days, Sirius was constantly checking in on Regulus, but he was doing it in subtle ways that he hoped wouldn’t cause Regulus to shut down and shut him out. He would ask Regulus to study with him or do homework with him. He reasoned that he found it easier to concentrate if there was someone else also doing a similar task. Sometimes he would just ask if Regulus wanted to play Exploding Snap or Wizard’s Chess. He never outright asked if Regulus was doing okay; it was always just woven into a nice conversation about something else entirely. 

   Of course, Regulus knew exactly what he was doing, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it that way. It felt like he had his big brother back, and it also meant that Sirius really did care about him and about what happened to him. For a brief while, Regulus hadn’t been so sure. 

   “Pawn to E5,” Sirius called his move on the chess board, and Regulus watched the enchanted chess piece hop one space across the board, “are you excited to be starting your Second Year at the end of the summer, Reggie?”

   Regulus sat and considered his options, as well as his answer, for a moment. 

   “Bishop to E5,” he called, and his bishop glided across the board and decimated Sirius’ pawn, “bad luck, Siri… I am looking forward to it. Hogwarts is so much nicer than here. But also, I just want to see all of my friends again.”

   “Merlin, Reggie… you’re too good at this,” Sirius huffed and crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair, “but I understand that. Now you get what I meant last year.”

   Regulus had felt upset, almost betrayed, when Sirius had told him that he would rather be at Hogwarts than at home. But now he definitely understood. It wasn’t just marginally better than life at Grimmauld Place - or the Manor, which they had spent the first part of the summer holidays in - it was better by miles. It was intellectually stimulating, socially superior, and there was just so much support and kindness to be found at Hogwarts, as opposed to the stiff-upper-lip, uncaring parenting style of Walburga and Orion Black. 

   Where Regulus had felt abandoned and rejected when he had heard Sirius say those words previously, he was feeling exactly that these days. 

   He couldn’t wait until they were both boarding that train to Hogwarts once again.

James Potter, 13 Years Old

James’ summer had been pleasant. His father had grown ill at one point towards the end of the summer, but he seemed to be coming out of that bout of illness when the Hogwarts letters were received across the country. James’ letter was much the same as the prior two years, except for the fact that his letter now included a permission slip for attending the trips to the village that was local to Hogwarts. 

   He had dreamed of the day that he would be permitted to visit the Wizarding Village of Hogsmeade - the only known magic-only village in all of the United Kingdom. It was perfect. 

   And finally, he could go and enjoy himself there with his friends. 

   Another new development over the course of the summer was that James had bumped into Benjy Fenwick, a boy going into his Fifth Year. James had been in Diagon Alley with his mother, shopping for potion supplies so that she could make her usual home remedies for Fleamont during his bout of sickness. The two had snuck away from their parents to go and get ice cream, stopping off at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour to eat ice cream and catch up over how their summers had been so far. 

   What James hadn’t expected was for Benjy to tell him about Michael Turner, another Fifth Year boy, whom Benjy had snogged at the end of the previous school year. To James, that information was like a lightning bolt straight down his spine. James had known for some time that he might fancy boys a little bit, but he’d never really put it into words. He’d been chasing after Lily Evans since the first day of their First Year, after all. But he knew that the way he looked at other boys, and the way he felt about them… it wasn’t normal. 

   So to hear Benjy, a star athlete a couple of years above him at school, who was incredibly popular and insanely attractive, say that he snogged boys? It was like James’ brain had all but imploded. 

   Since then, James and Benjy had been sending letters back and forth to each other almost every day. 

‘James,

It was great to catch up with you the other day. We should definitely do that again sometime. Especially now that you can go to Hogsmeade when we get back to school. 

Let me know, yeah?

From

Benjy’

‘Benjy, 

Yeah, I’d love that. And you know what you said about, well, you know… snogging Michael? Is that something you do often, then? 

Sorry, that’s probably a weird question. Ignore me.

Apologetically,

James’

‘James, 

Snogging boys, you mean? I wouldn’t say I do it a lot, but I do go for guys rather than girls, if that’s what you’re referring to. 

Why? Think you might be the same way?

Yours, with much interest,

Benjy’

‘Benjy,

Yeah, that’s what I meant. I know I like boys. But I also like girls. I’ve never snogged anyone, though. 

What’s it like?

Yours curiously,

James’

‘Jamie,

I hope you don’t mind if I call you Jamie. You can call me Benj if you like, my friends all do. 

It’s okay if you’ve never snogged anyone. Everyone has to start somewhere, right? I had my first kiss at thirteen, and it was a disaster. Emma Vanity, in the Greenhouses after Herbology. It kind of grossed me out, and I panicked a bit, trying to push her away, but she ended up falling backwards into a pot of devil’s snare. 

Thought that maybe snogging just wasn’t for me. Turns out it was just that I didn’t like snogging girls. 

With much embarrassment,

Benj’

‘Benj,

You can call me Jamie, definitely. 

You pushed Emma Vanity into a pot of devil’s snare? That’s hilarious! But I can imagine it was quite embarrassing… glad you worked it out, though. 

I want to find out what it feels like to snog someone, but I wouldn’t even know where to start. 

Maybe you could give me some pointers?

Yours hopefully,

Jamie’

‘Jamie,

Pointers? I’ll do one better… meet me on the train on 1st September. Wear that Quidditch jumper that makes you look good. 

Yours in anticipation,

Benj’

That had floored James. Benjy Fenwick wanted to snog him? That seemed like something from one of James’ rather awkward dreams, where he woke up all flustered and embarrassed. Worried that somehow one of his friends would realise what he’d been dreaming about, as if they could read his mind, or work it all out from the look on his face. 

   Everyone with eyes knew that Benjy Fenwick was insanely attractive, even the boys who were firmly into girls. So what James couldn’t work out was why he could possibly want to snog James. 

   James knew he was an okay-looking guy, with deep, bronzed skin and a nice smile. He had warm, smiling eyes. But his hair was a mess, and his teeth were just slightly crooked. He wore stupid glasses, too. But then he had filled out quite a bit over the summer, even before seeing Benjy in Diagon Alley. So perhaps he was better than just okay-looking.

   Getting up from his bed, where he had been reading Benjy’s letter, James walked over to the floor-length mirror in the bathroom and stared at himself for a while. He’d always been self-conscious about his hair and glasses, and that slightly crooked front tooth. But he smiled at himself, and he felt a little more confident. Knowing that someone like Benjy could want to spend time with him, could want to snog him, he felt a boost in his mood, in his confidence. 

   In fact, he felt like he was walking on air. 

   As he made his way down to the kitchen that evening, after sending Benjy a short missive saying that he’d definitely see him there on the train, James had his chin up, his head held high, and his shoulders back. Fleamont glanced over at his son from where he sat in the armchair by the fireplace, which was lit even in the height of summer, due to his residual chills from his illness, and he was shocked. In recent years, James had lost some of that spark that had been ever-present when he was younger. To see him strutting around so confidently warmed Fleamont’s heart. 

   He reached a pale, frail-looking hand over to rest on his wife, Euphemia’s arm and then gestured across at James. Euphemia looked around, expecting the worst: James with his head hung low, a pouty expression on his lips, or his brows furrowed with concern like he had been more often at the beginning of the summer and all the summer before. Instead, she saw James as she remembered him. Bright and joyful and confident. Walking around as if nothing could touch him. As if nothing else mattered. 

   It did worry her slightly, and all she could think about was the mood swings her uncle Rafael had been plagued with for much of Euphemia’s childhood. Most likely longer, but she didn’t see much of him when her family moved across to England. The last she had heard, he’d been on one of his ‘good days’ and hijacked a muggle car before driving it directly into a church. It had caused quite the scandal, of course, and Rafael had never been the same since.

   So she worried. For James’ sake, more than anything. But also for herself and Fleamont, who were certainly getting on in years. Euphemia had seen how Rafael had struggled, and how his parents and family as a whole had struggled to support him and keep him safe. But perhaps she was just reading too much into things, and perhaps James wouldn’t be like Rafael at all. Perhaps he would be like Fleamont. Sweet, level-headed Fleamont, who had a brain to beat most, and a heart bigger than any she’d ever known. 

   “Meu amor, you look happy,” Euphemia smiled over at James, and he turned and started walking towards the two of them, sitting in the armchair opposite. 

   “I got a letter from Benjy. You know the guy I bumped into in Diagon Alley? We’re going to go to Hogsmeade when we get back to school. He’s so cool, mamae, honestly,” James grinned as he leaned back in the armchair, draping his legs over the arm of the chair. 

   “Benjy? Is that Benjy Fenwick you mean? His father works with me. Decent bloke,” Fleamont nodded slowly, shifting a little in his seat and taking a sip from his tea.

   “Yeah, yeah, that’s the one, Dad. We’ve been talking a bit since we bumped into each other the other week… he’s really nice,” James beamed, his cheeks taking on a hint of a warmer, reddish-brown tone as they heated up. 

   “Oh, is he?” Fleamont wore a mischievous look on his face as he took in the way his son was growing more and more flustered by the second, “just ‘nice’?”

   “Shut up, dad! It’s not… it’s not like that,” James muttered, scratching the back of his neck and averting his gaze. 

   It was like that. It was definitely like that. 

   “We’re just mates, he’s going to help me with my Quidditch training, since he’s on the team as well,” James continued, after absolutely no prompting from Fleamont or Euphemia. 

   Except Benjy was going to teach James how to snog. They were going to snog until they had to come up for air for fear of passing out. 

   “He’s a really good Beater, you know. But he used to play Chaser before I joined the team, so he’s got a few tricks up his sleeve,” James was still talking; it was as if he couldn’t stop himself. 

   He’d chase after Benjy any day, especially if it meant getting his first kiss from that god of a man. 

   “Apparently, there’s this really cool spot to hang out in Hogsmeade, so we’re going to go there, and… and he’s going to walk me through some of his old Quidditch plays from when he was a Chaser,” he was still talking. 

   James could remember how Benjy looked, all sweaty after a Quidditch match or training session, stripping off in the changing rooms. Sweat dripping down his-

   “I’m gonna go and make a pot of tea, did you two need a refill?” James asked abruptly as he felt the blood rushing from his head, all the way down south. 

   He was already halfway out the door by the time he heard his parents call out and ask for a cup of tea each. He groaned when he made it into the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen counter, trying to think of anything other than Benjy, to try and trick himself into thinking with his brain instead of his…

   “I’m so screwed…” he murmured to himself, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

   How could he manage kissing or snogging Benjy, if even just thinking about the bloke made him get such a raging boner, he felt he might pass out any second?

Chapter Text

James Potter, 13 Years Old

James had picked out his Quidditch jumper for the train ride to Hogwarts. Whether there was an ulterior motive for that… well, that was for him to know and no one else. Except, perhaps, Benjy Fenwick. 

   For the remainder of the summer holidays, James had tried his hardest not to get his hopes up where Benjy was concerned. But it was difficult. Extremely difficult. The letters had flown back and forth between the two of them for weeks, and he was getting more and more excited about the prospect of seeing him on the train as time went on. Euphemia and Fleamont had picked up on his change in mood instantly, and they kept asking gentle questions about Benjy, but James shut down their probing at every turn. 

   He wasn’t ready to say it aloud yet, but he was sure he was bisexual. The thought of kissing Benjy? It left his head in a spin, his heart racing, and his blood rushing to one particular region which had been plaguing him each morning and night for quite some time. 

   Normally, James would search the train for his friends, sit in the same compartment they always sat in, and catch up on everything that had happened over the summer. But this year? He made a beeline for the compartment that Benjy had mentioned in one of his later letters. Benjy always sat with his friends Adrian Wood, Caradoc Bell, Maeve Hartley and Caoimhe O’Donnell. They were all on the Quidditch team with James, so he knew them fairly well. But he was worried that perhaps Benjy had mentioned their letters to his friends. 

   He was nervous enough about seeing Benjy, but if he’d been talking about the exchanges to his friends? James was sure to be mortified the moment he set foot in that compartment. 

   Chin up, Potter.

   Running a hand through his hair and checking his reflection in the window of a compartment door, James walked the last few feet to the door to the compartment Benjy would be in. When he spotted him, his heart seemed to leap into his throat. He wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers and slid open the compartment door, receiving four heads swivelling around to look at him. 

   Adrian was a stocky guy with short brown hair and brown eyes. He had a sort of lopsided smile and always enthused about Quidditch more than any of them did - he was the captain this year, by the look of the badge on his chest, which he wore ever-so-proudly. Caradoc was tanned with shaggy brown hair and a charming smile. He was always trailing around after Adrian - where one went, the other would surely follow. Maeve was blonde and petite, but she was fast - she was the Gryffindor Seeker and she did a blinding job in every match. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips even more so, and her blue eyes seemed to twinkle no matter the lighting. Caiomhe was ginger with freckles and green eyes, her ears were just slightly pointed, and James often thought she looked like some sort of wood nymph. She looked sweet and cute, but she had a sharp tongue and an even sharper wit. 

   Benjy, though… he was tall and broad-shouldered, but he was relatively muscled all over. His jaw was chiselled and now had a light covering of dark stubble; his hair was dark and wavy, falling just to his shoulders. It always had some sort of windswept look to it. His eyes were a dark, warm hazel, and he was tanned. But all James could think about was when he’d seen him changing after Quidditch, or when he and his friends had gone for a dip in the Black Lake one summer term. That, and kissing his full, dusky-rose lips. 

   “Jamie… good to see you,” Benjy smirked up at James from where he sat, “you know the others already, and they know you, so no need to make introductions, I suppose.”

   James’ heart was hammering against his ribcage so hard that he worried they’d all be able to hear it. But he plastered on that usual carefree, effortless smirk that he wore consistently and leaned against the doorframe. 

   “That I do… hope everyone had a good summer?” James glanced around at everyone and received a few murmurs of agreement, as well as confirmation from Adrian that he was, in fact, the new Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, “glad we’ve got a competent captain this year, then.”

   James’ easy joke earned a round of laughs, and Benjy wore a smirk on his lips as he got up. 

   “I just needed a word with Jamie for a minute… I’ll be back in a bit,” Benjy nodded to his friends and then led James out of the compartment, a hand on the small of the younger boy’s back. 

   It was as though a shockwave had run through James’ body from the moment that Benjy’s hand made contact with him, and he gladly followed him down the corridor of the train, all the way to an empty compartment near the back. Benjy opened the door and ushered James inside, before closing the door and drawing the blinds. When he turned to look down at James, who was fairly tall, himself, just not as tall as Benjy, he had a downright ravenous look in his eyes. Never in his life had James wondered what a small prey animal might feel when caught in the line of sight of a predator, but he now imagined it might feel something like that. Right there, with Benjy. 

   He looks like he’d eat James whole if he had the chance. 

   “You wore your jumper…” Benjy murmured, taking a step towards James. 

   “I did… does it meet your standards?” James quipped, sounding a lot more confident than he felt in the moment.

   “Absolutely. But I do just want to take it off of you, if I’m being honest,” Benjy chuckled lowly, his hand finding James’ hip. 

   James froze for a moment, not quite ready to take that step. Benjy must have seen the look of hesitation, of concern, as he shook his head affectionately. 

   “I’m not going to do something you’re not ready for, Jamie… but I am going to kiss you, if you still want that?” he asked, his other hand raising to gently nudge James’ chin upward. 

   There were no words that came to James in the moment, but he did manage a small nod. That seemed to be enough confirmation for Benjy, as he leaned in slowly and then gently pressed his lips to James’. It felt like James’ legs had turned to jelly. With Benjy’s strong hands on him, but his lips pressing so gently against his, it was positively dizzying. After a few seconds of stunned stillness, James finally started responding to the kiss. His movements were clumsy and hesitant, but their lips slowly found a suitable rhythm and then, before he knew it, James was pinned up against the door of the compartment. 

   James’ hands slid up to drape over the back of Benjy’s neck, and both of Benjy’s hands had found James’ hips. After what felt like eternity and yet no time at all, Benjy’s tongue slid against James’ bottom lip, sort of probing at the seam of his mouth. James parted his lips, and it genuinely felt like he might have died and gone to heaven when Benjy’s tongue slid against his own. Their tongues danced lazily, though if it were a battle to be won, it was clear that Benjy was the victor. 

   James was all too willing to let him win. He thought he might have let Benjy do just about anything if he was able to make him feel so heavenly just from kissing. He trusted Benjy, which was terrifying. But more than anything, he was just surprised at how good kissing him actually felt. There was a point where he was convinced that he’d just hyped it all up so much in his mind that the real thing could surely never compare. 

   He couldn’t have been more wrong.

   “Merlin…” he breathed out when they finally broke apart, Benjy resting his forehead against James’.

   “Everything you’d hoped it would be, then, Jamie?” Benjy chuckled as he rested one hand behind James’ head against the window of the compartment.

   “More. More than I’d hoped it would be,” James admitted, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson.

   “Good to know,” Benjy chuckled and tucked some of James’ hair behind his ear, before trailing his fingertips along James’ jaw and tilting it up so that they were making eye contact fully.

   Benjy pressed his lips to James’ again, more urgently this time, as if he were hungry, like he needed James’ lips on his to be able to breathe. Except it made James feel like he wasn’t breathing. As if Benjy had knocked all the air from his lungs and swept him away entirely. If this was what heaven felt like, James would gladly welcome death with open arms. 

   James threaded his fingers through Benjy’s dark hair and pulled him closer, his own tongue darting into the older boy’s mouth first this time as his confidence built. It was a rush, and he almost felt dizzy. Then he realised something that made him panic. There was that telltale feeling in his gut, and then he felt his trousers growing tighter. The very thing he had been worried about when dreaming of kissing Benjy over the summer was happening, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

   Kittens dying. 

   Sirius’ gross house-elf. 

   Professor McGonagall.

   The giant squid in the Black Lake. 

   Moaning Myrtle crying. 

   Acromantulas, flobberworms, mandrakes…

   James was trying to think of the least sexy things he could, just to cool himself off. None of it worked. And then Benjy pulled away slightly, a devilish glint in his eyes as he glanced down at James, a roguish smirk tugging at his kiss-swollen lips. He looked every bit of a god as he stood there with tousled hair, swollen lips, darkened eyes and that mischievous smirk. 

   He knew. 

   “Well, well, well… I knew you were enjoying yourself, Jamie, but I’m flattered,” Benjy drawled, and James let out an indignant huff, glancing away, a small pout on his lips as he felt himself growing increasingly more flustered. 

   “Shut up, it’s- shut up, Benj,” James muttered, releasing his grip on Benjy’s hair and leaning back against the window of the compartment. 

   Benjy furrowed his brow slightly, and he cupped James’ cheek in his hand, his other hand on James’ hip as he gazed down at the younger boy. 

   “Hey… you don’t need to be embarrassed, Jamie. I told you, I’m flattered, I’m not mad,” Benjy murmured and ran the pad of his thumb over James’ bottom lip, pressing up against him now as he pushed James back slightly, so that he was leaning fully against the window behind him.

   “You’re not gonna laugh at me or something?” James asked, confusion marring his features, and Benjy shook his head, scoffing slightly. 

   “Not at all. And hey, when you want to… I’d be more than happy to go further with you, but that’s all up to you,” Benjy reassured him, and James nodded slowly, his heart rate slowing a little now as he tilted his chin up slightly, pressing his lips tenderly to Benjy’s.

   How had James been so lucky as to find someone like Benjy? Did this mean they would be boyfriends? Go on dates and hold hands and kiss and touch, and love each other? His heart rate may have been slowing down, but the thoughts that whizzed around in his head seemed to pick up speed and frequency. There were so many questions that he had, for Benjy and for himself, but he knew he should probably try to play it cool, so as not to make a fool of himself in front of Benjy. 

   That seemed like the most sensible option, definitely.

   “You’re okay with waiting?” James asked, tilting his head to the side as he finally pulled away from the slow and tender kiss that they had shared. 

   “Of course I am, Jamie,” Benjy nodded and pulled him in for a hug, James’ face pressing against Benjy’s well-muscled chest.

   They hugged and kissed and gently ran their hands over each other’s chests and backs for quite some time, never venturing further south, as James wasn’t sure he was quite ready for that yet. But he didn’t feel silly for saying it. Benjy was so understanding, so kind to him. He felt safe, he felt comfortable, and he felt seen. For perhaps the first time in his life. 

   His friends loved him to bits, of course, but they didn’t know about that side of him. Euphemia and Fleamont were loving and caring, but he hadn’t been able to tell them yet. It was too nerve-wracking. No one really knew James. Not all of him. They all saw a sliver of him each; that was carefully curated from all the depths of James’ personality and soul to be more palatable for people. Because deep down, James Potter knew that he was too much. He would always be too much, and he didn’t want to risk losing the people he cared about by being over-the-top and needy and overly passionate. 

   So he tamed those aspects of himself and made sure people would like him. 

   But Benjy? He was the first person to see this side of him, and it was thrilling. Okay, he would definitely keep his worries to himself, and he wouldn’t tell Benjy about the mess that was his mind at times, but he knew this side, and that was enough. 

   It had to be enough. He wasn’t sure he would ever show one single person the entirety of himself. That was too much to think about, too much to bear. No one deserved to be lumbered with every part of him.

Regulus Black, 12 Years Old

Regulus had boarded the train with Sirius, but then parted ways with him so that he could find his friends.  It was odd, starting the school year without Sirius in the same compartment as him, but he had his own friends now, and he couldn’t wait to get back to them. More than anything, he wanted to catch up with them properly and see how they had been over the summer. Sirius had hugged him and ruffled his hair and made sure that Regulus knew that if he needed anything, he could come and find Sirius, and he would drop absolutely anything to help him. 

   Regulus didn’t want to be a burden, though. 

   When he arrived at the compartment he and his friends had shared on their train ride back from school the previous year, he slid the door open and felt slightly taken aback. 

   People had growth spurts and changed over the summer months, of course. Regulus’ cheekbones had become more pronounced, and he was taller, slightly more muscular after training with Sirius in the garden, and he looked better. But his friends? It was like someone had replaced them with models.

   Pandora had fuller lips and her cheekbones were more defined; her skin was an even richer brown, most likely due to the Rosiers holidaying in Italy that summer. Her silvery hair was braided, and those braids were tied back off her face; she was slightly taller, and she had filled out nicely. She looked like a goddess, and when she smiled at Regulus, he was floored. Her smile somehow lit up her blue eyes, and it was just breathtaking.

   Evan was much the same, being that they were twins. But where Pandora had filled out around the hips and her chest, his shoulders were broader, and he was much taller than she was now. His jaw was sharp and chiselled and… those eyes. When he smiled at Regulus, Regulus’ heart did a funny flip, and his stomach seemed to twist itself into knots. His palms were sweating, and he almost let out a yelp when Evan hugged him in greeting.

   But Barty was devastatingly gorgeous. He was wearing eyeliner, and he had dyed the fringe of his hair a deep green. His jaw could cut a man, and they’d thank him for it. He was tall and lean, not as broad as Evan. He looked like a model. And he’d pierced his eyebrow. He hugged Regulus, and Regulus burrowed his face against Barty’s chest, inhaling deeply. Merlin, he even smelled good. 

   “Hi Reggie, I missed you,” Barty murmured into Regulus’ hair, and Regulus gave a noncommittal hum of agreement. 

   “Missed you too, Bee,” Regulus breathed out softly when they pulled away from each other and sat down on the seat opposite Pandora and Evan. 

   The group got underway in talking about their summers and catching up on everything that they had done. It was all fine. Regulus and Barty sat too close to each other for no one to pick up on it, but neither Pandora nor Evan said a word. They’d been close at the end of the previous year, but this was a new level. Their legs were practically glued to each other’s, and their shoulders brushed with every movement. Regulus’ stomach was fluttering wildly, and his cheeks flushed when Barty tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. 

   Regulus was so glad to be back at Hogwarts.

Around halfway into the train ride, there was a knock on the door of the compartment, and Regulus looked up to see Sirius standing on the other side. Concern flitting across his features, he stood up and made his way over to the door, sliding it open and peering up at his brother, who leaned against the doorframe. He hadn’t seen Sirius look that concerned since he walked in on Regulus in the bathroom over the summer. 

   “Have you seen James?” Sirius asked, and Regulus shook his head, his brows pinching. 

   “No, I would assume he was with you. But he’s definitely not here,” Regulus replied, fiddling with the hem of the sleeve of the jumper that Euphemia had gifted to him when he got sorted into Slytherin.

   “No, we haven’t seen him at all. I- look, I’m sorry to interrupt your time with your friends, Reggie, but can you help us look? I’m worried about him,” Sirius sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. 

   “Of course,” Regulus nodded, not hesitating for even a moment before he turned to wave at his friends and then left the compartment.

   He didn’t notice the way Barty’s smile faded, or the way he quickly turned to look out of the window. 

   Regulus never expected anybody to want him or to look at him the same way he looked at them. Particularly not someone like Barty. 

   But Regulus walked out of the compartment and followed Sirius. On the way to the end of the train, Sirius explained that Peter and Remus were searching from the other end of the train. So they began their quest. They knocked on each door, sliding open compartment doors if the blinds were down, checking with people that they knew if they had seen James. They weren’t having any luck when they reached another compartment which had the blinds down. Sirius tried to slide the door open, but it was locked. 

   “Alohamora!” he brandished his wand, and the compartment door unlocked, and he slid it across. 

   They hadn’t expected what they saw. 

   James was straddling Benjy Fenwick’s lap, with Benjy’s arms around James’ waist and James’ fingers tangled in Benjy’s hair. There were soft moans and wet kissing noises as they looked to be practically devouring each other. 

   “Fucking hell… Jamie?” Sirius spluttered, leaning against the door to the compartment as if he were winded by the sight. 

   James hastily got up, cheeks flushed and hair a mess, his shirt all untucked and scruffy, his jumper cast aside. Benjy was practically sprawled out against the seat as his gaze flitted between Sirius and Regulus, though there was a look of irritation on his face. He disguised it fairly well with the lazy smirk he wore, but Regulus could see it in his eyes. 

   Regulus felt sick.

   Seeing James like that with another boy… he knew that James was just a friend and that was all he could ever hope for, but he couldn’t help the acrid jealousy that burned like bile in the back of his throat. Or the way his heart felt like it was being torn in two. Regulus had just about come to terms with the fact that he had a minor crush on James over the summer, when he had spent the majority of it sending letter after letter to James, just to ask how he was and what he was doing. James had mentioned bumping into Benjy, but he hadn’t said that they were- 

   “You look like you were having fun, Jamie,” Sirius raised an eyebrow at James, who looked like he would rather the ground open up and swallow him whole than respond to his best friend.

   “Yeah… yeah, until you showed up, Si,” James let out a chuckle, but it was a breathless, empty sound. 

   “Perhaps we should just go,” Regulus muttered, tugging on Sirius’ sleeve. 

   James’ jaw went slack. His gaze flitted to Regulus, then travelled up and down him and then quickly flitted away again. 

   “Reggie… you- I didn’t see you there, sorry. Uh- this is Benjy, not sure if you know him or not,” James scratched the back of his neck, looking like a floundering fish out of water as he tried to wrap his head around what was going on. 

   As if he hadn’t been the perpetrator of the snogging session that Sirius and Regulus had walked in on. 

   Ridiculous.

   “Yes, well, Sirius was worried about you when he hadn’t seen you all train ride. Might have been nice for you to let your friends know that you were off snogging someone rather than abandoning them and leaving them thinking something bad had happened to you, James,” Regulus hissed through gritted teeth, his ears turning slightly pink as he shifted on the spot, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve again, “come on, Siri.”

   It was the first time in a long time that Regulus had called James, James, rather than Jamie. But he was angry. He was angry and hurt, and he wanted to just scream at the older boy, but he knew there was no need, and he had no right. So venom was the only way forward, clearly. 

   “Reggie, what-” James started, but Benjy cut him off, much to Regulus’ irritation. 

   “Let them go, Jamie… they know you’re okay now,” he drawled, his hand reaching for James’.

   James hesitated for a moment, his gaze flitting between the Black brothers and Benjy, before he moved towards Benjy again and nodded. He shot a sheepish smile over at Sirius and Regulus.

   “Yeah, I guess so. I’ll see you both around,” James murmured.

   It was like a punch to the gut. 

   Sirius chuckled and shook his head before he turned around and exited the compartment. Regulus stayed still for a moment, his features a mask of indifference, though his eyes conveyed the hurt he felt. If James had been looking, he might have seen it. But he wasn’t looking at Regulus. He would never look at Regulus, not while he had boys like Benjy bloody Fenwick to make moon eyes at. 

   As he turned to leave, Regulus hoped deep down that James might call out to him, though he had no idea what James would even say. Or what he wanted James to say. Regardless, it didn’t happen. So Regulus exited the compartment and slid the door shut again, slightly harder than he ought to have, causing the glass pane to rattle slightly. His face was a picture of thunder as he and Sirius started walking back down the train corridor. Neither of them spoke for some time. Until-

   “You okay, Reggie? You sort of laid into Jamie a bit back there,” Sirius murmured, slinging an arm around Regulus’ shoulders. 

   “‘M fine, Siri. Just… when you said you hadn’t seen James, I got worried. Then we got in there and he was- he- anyway, he should have let you know, that’s all. You’re his friends, regardless of whether he’s snogging Fenwick or not,” Regulus grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest as the two walked down the train corridor. 

   Sirius didn’t quite believe his brother, but he didn’t comment on it. They just continued to walk in tense silence until they reached the compartment Regulus had previously been in with his friends. Sirius pulled Regulus in for a hug, and Regulus hugged him back tightly before they whispered short goodbyes and Regulus returned to his friends. 

   “Was Potter okay?” Pandora asked, glancing up from her alchemy book. 

   “Hm? Yeah. Snogging Benjy bloody Fenwick,” Regulus muttered and sat down beside Barty again, resting his head on the other boy’s shoulder.

   Barty shifted to drape his arm around Regulus’ shoulders, pulling him closer and resting his head atop Regulus’ head. It was a simple gesture, yet Regulus felt comforted instantly, and he found himself nuzzling his cheek against Barty’s shoulder slightly, wrapping an arm around Barty’s waist as they got comfortable together. Seeing James with Benjy had hurt, but this made the pain ease a little. Not entirely, but enough. Enough that he didn’t feel like tearing out his hair or resorting to the one coping mechanism he had promised Sirius he wouldn’t fall back on. 

   Regulus’ physical scars were healing. Slowly, but they were healing. His emotional scars would last far longer. Giant, gaping wounds in his heart and soul. 

   Sirius would think it was ridiculous for him to let one person affect him so much. Particularly after they had both been through so much at home. Yet nothing his parents ever did could make him feel the way he felt when he saw James with another boy. 

   “Why don’t you try and get some sleep, Reggie?” Barty murmured into his hair, rubbing his arm gently as he held him close to his chest. 

   “I’m not tired… just, maybe tell me about your summer again? Don’t leave anything out,” Regulus requested softly, not lifting his head from Barty’s shoulder even for a second. 

   And so, for the remainder of the journey to Hogwarts, Barty talked. He talked about his summer first, though that hadn’t lasted as long as Regulus would have liked. After each topic was done, Regulus asked him another question, and Barty would ramble, trying to add more information even if it wasn’t necessary to the story. 

   Barty would have done anything for Regulus in that moment. 

   Yet Regulus was heartbroken over another boy.

   Evan watched the exchange fondly, watching his boys bond. Evan wasn’t an insecure person. He had his person in his twin sister. He loved Regulus and Barty almost as much as he loved Pandora, but he was happy that they had each other. 

   Perhaps everything would be okay for their little group.