The Story of Regulus Black - Years 5-7

CIX. Between the Lines

CW: talk of a very toxic/abusive relationship, mentions of sexual harassment and self-harm, suicidal ideations, & brief emetophobia

Robin Corriveau was wandering his way back to his dorm room.

He was tired. Even as he walked he found that he had a slight stumble. His eyes were hardly staying open as he wove his way through corridors and tried to get back as quickly as he could. He had been spending time with his sister, talking about everything and nothing as they so often did. She seemed happier, more-so than she had in quite a long time. He didn't know what had changed but he had to assume that it had something to do with a certain dark-haired boy from Hogwarts. Robin didn't have much of an opinion on the nonsensical friendship, but he knew that he certainly couldn't complain. After all, anyone who made his sister happy was quite acceptable to him.

Said dark-haired boy was among the last people who Robin would assume to see in the dark corridors of the Beauxbatons Academy. Though, much to his surprise, he was the very boy who rounded the corner mere yards in front of him.

He faltered in his step, his brows coming together in the middle when Regulus seemed to head straight for him. He looked the boy over slowly, focusing in on the look of determination that shadowed his face. Moonlight highlighted his high cheekbones and shadowed his sharp jaw, sculpting his face into something that looked almost ethereal. Otherworldly. Opinions aside, Robin truly did believe that Regulus Black was one of the most beautiful people that he had ever seen.

Regulus stopped a few feet away from Robin and tossed something to him without a word. Robin reached up and caught it, a Seeker's reflex. He opened his palm and stared at the small golden ball that rolled across it. A look of confusion clouded his face as he looked back toward the boy before him.

"What is this?" He inquired, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger to hold it up.

Regulus raised an eyebrow. "You'd think that a Seeker would be able to identify a Snitch." He placed his hands on his hips and tapped his foot against the flagstone floor beneath him. The rhythm of it reverberated off of the walls and echoed in Robin's ears. He transferred his weight from one leg to the other as he flitted his gaze between the Snitch and the boy that had given it to him.

"What is this for? And do not say Quidditch," he added before Regulus could give him yet another snarky remark.

Regulus pursed his lips; that had certainly been what he was about to say. He took a moment to string his words together, to cross the t's and dot the i's of his words. "You let me have the Snitch. You let me win the game." He took a moment to swallow his anxieties and choke down his nerves. "I need to know that I could've won on my own. I need to know that everything that's happened to me since I got here wasn't all for nothing. I need to know that everything bad that happened wasn't all leading up to some sort of pity-gesture from the bloke who kissed my boyfriend." His voice was wavering in a way that he hated more than anything else. More than the words themselves and the circumstances under which they were delivered. He hated that he couldn't hide his emotions as well as he had before they had come to this awful school. He hated the way that everything that had happened to him had effected him; hated the steady erosion of the walls that he was no longer able to build back up as quickly as he once had.

He hated it. He hated this trip. He hated this school. He hated the person that he was and the person that he always would be. The person that his family had bred him to be. A family made of monsters and laced with poison.

Robin stared at him silently for a moment. He considered everything that Regulus had said and listened to the sadness that dripped from his voice. He saw the way that he set his jaw and clouded the grief with a thick layer of anger. He sighed quietly and glanced at the Snitch in his palm once again.