This is Home | Marauders Era

XIII. Sad, Beautiful, Tragic

CW: lots of talk about trauma & referenced/implied child abuse

"Why did you do that?"

Regulus glanced at the boy beside him. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his robes, forefinger scratching at the skin of his thumb. He had been walking behind the rest of the class on purpose. He hadn't spoken to anyone yet for a reason. He wanted to be alone, and there Barty was ruining it.

He gave him a quick once-over before turning forward once again. There was a bruise on Barty's jaw and a faint scar on his cheekbone that would likely be gone by the end of the week. He was carrying his bag at an odd angle and walking with a slight gait that indicated that his injuries hadn't quite healed. Regulus would have liked to pretend that he didn't care, though there was a part of him that certainly did. There was a part of him that wanted to walk right back into the castle and hunt Evan Rosier down to finish what he hadn't. To make the injuries that he had given Barty seem like nothing but child's play.

Perhaps it was just the left-over residue of so many years of friendship. Or perhaps Regulus Black simply wasn't putting enough merit behind the things that he felt for the boy. All of the things that he only allowed himself to feel in secret.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied coolly.

"Bullshit," Barty replied. Regulus tried to increase his pace to create distance between the two. However, Barty had always been particularly good at matching Regulus's pace. "You do realize how stupid that was, right? Did you start staying with your brother and lose your bloody mind?"

Regulus tensed. He knew that it was public knowledge. He knew that every single soul in the school likely knew of his current housing status. After all, the students of Hogwarts were rather notorious for how quickly they always managed to spread the school's newest gossip. However, that didn't mean that he was made any less nervous whenever someone brought it up; as though hearing it spoken aloud would summon Walburga herself. He looked around just to be sure.

"I don't know what it is that you want from me, Crouch. Now, if you'll excuse me-"

Barty cut Regulus off. He stepped in front of him completely to stop him in his tracks. Regulus nearly ran into the boy, stumbling backward and giving Barty a quick blink of surprise. "I got blamed for what you did," he hissed. His face was just inches away from Regulus's, his breath hot against his skin.

Regulus took a moment to process Barty's words before a pocket of guilt formed in the pit of his stomach. "Barty, I didn't mean-"

"I don't need you to stick up for me, Black. We aren't friends anymore. You don't come crawling to me with your stupid little problems and I certainly don't either. It's my business, I can handle it." He took a step back when he realized just how close the two of them had become. Their noses were nearly bumping, their chests centimeters from touching. If he wasn't so dedicated to expressing the words at hand perhaps his cheeks would have warmed.

Regulus let out a quiet scoff in response to Barty's words. This time, it was him who stepped forward and leaned in. "Why were you even approaching Rosier in the first place? Was that your own business, too?" Barty's jaw clenched as he leaned back by the smallest bit. "Exactly. You stay out of my fucking business and I'll stay out of yours."

Regulus stepped around Barty and continued on. Barty stood there for a moment before turning around and joining the rest of their class. It wasn't as though he was able to properly focus, though. He never truly could when Regulus's burning gaze was the only thing that he could feel.

The first few days of school blurred together into a rather uneventful haze.

The days were similar as they passed. Regulus would wake up in the dorm room that he had taken to sharing with his brother and the other three boys (Regulus had quickly discovered that sharing a dorm with three people who probably all wanted him dead wasn't the best choice in the world). He would get ready and try not to snap at the four boys as they pondered silently over his well-being and tried to speak to him as though he had been there his whole life. As though his addition to their group hadn't been the result of a few bizarre circumstances. As though they were his friends. He didn't know why it irritated him so much, but perhaps it was simply the hovering. The suffocation that he had spoken to Sirius about on more than one occasion. He had noticed, though, that their futile attempts to comfort him over things that he would have much rather forgotten completely had started to lessen. He had that to be thankful for, he supposed.