✹SEVENTY-EIGHT✹

1.2K 38 240
                                    

FOR THOSE OF YOU WONDERING, NO, THERE IS NOT ANY ENDGAME BARTYLUS IN THIS FANFIC, BUT I AM THINKING OF WRITING A SEPARATE BARTYLUS FIC AFTER THE SCARS ON MY BODY IF ANYONE'S INTERESTED xxx

OH, AND I LOVE YOU LOTS <3

_____________________

✹ You're a brave kid.

You know that,

right? ✹

_____________________


It had been a few days since James' birthday, March had passed and April had begun. It was still cold, but nowhere as near as the icy temperatures of January. There had been no response to the gift Regulus' had sent him, nor any response to anything at all.

Regulus would attempt to send James kind smiles in corridors or barely noticeable waves over the classroom, but all that he would get back was a stiff nod. This was not the fault of James and neither was it the fault of Regulus. As much as the two of them despised it, it truly had to be done. For their own safety. Being seen together could cost them their lives and the lives of the people around them.

"You're upset." Reg raised his head to see Crouch leaning against his bedpost, an indecipherable look on his face.

"I'm not." Regulus' head turned back down to the diary James had gotten him not so long ago. He begged himself to write in it, but every time he picked up a quill, his page was covered in nothing but ink splatters. It wasn't that his hand shook too much or that he didn't know what to write, he just couldn't. He really couldn't.

"You are."

"How would you know?" He snarled, tossing the diary to the end of his bed.

"Because you haven't insulted me in days."

"What?"

"You only ever insult me when you're angry or in a good mood," Crouch's hands were stuffed deep into his trouser pockets, his back slouched, "When you're upset you don't insult me."

"Says who?"

"Me. Go on. Insult me. Call me a dick. Or a shitface. Whatever you want." Regulus did not answer.

"Why are you here? Don't you have a class to be attending?" When Regulus did not call him a cruel name or offend him in any way, Crouch smiled, he honestly, truthfully smiled. Now, that was something Regulus had never expected to see. Even over Christmas, Crouch did not smile often. If you managed to make Bartemius Crouch smile, you might as well rule the world too.

He had a beautiful smile. He really did. It was like the yellow from the sun had been torn from the sky and pressed into his soul like a painter's brush and palette. James would have found great inspiration from such a smile.

Regulus frowned.

"No, I don't have a lesson right now. But, I know that you most certainly do." He did. He was meant to be in Transfiguration, but Humphrey was hidden away in the curtains of his own bed, most likely asleep or passed out from all the alcohol and Regulus refused to leave without him. He'd heard Humph crying and whispering Bailey's name late at night and a new surge of protectiveness had washed over Reg.

"I can't." Crouch nodded.

"I know."

"You know?"

"I know." Regulus paused to stare at the other boy's face for a moment. Why was he such a confusing person? "Can I sit?"

THE SCARS ON MY BODY ● JEGULUS |MARAUDERS|Where stories live. Discover now