Mixed Tape: Regulus' Story

Chapter 4: Rebel Rebel

Chapter specific content warnings: childhood abuse, talk of death, talk of blood purity, homophobic language (this chapter uses some outdated ways of thinking and phrases for LGBTQ+ things that I think would be relevant to the way Regulus had been raised, but they aren't really being used today)

Summer gave me plenty of time to pine over the worst person in the world. I could sit and stare at the stars, thinking about the way he smiled. I could glare at Sirius because he got to share a dorm with James Fucking Potter. I could play the piano at feasts and imagine him dancing behind me in that careless way he did upon the Gryffindor table.

It was silly, really, because it was impossible, but I think that's why I let it happen. We spent so much of that summer at Malfoy Manor that I hardly even slept in my own bed. James and his stupidness gave me something to think about other than my family's hate and it gave me something new to be angry about too. So when Sirius was idiotic and got himself punished, I could be angry with myself instead of him. At least he wasn't some sort of disgraceful homosexual like me.

Which raised a million questions of its own. Was I a homosexual? Was I really in love with some Gryffindor jock? Would I then be destined to a life of loneliness because of my tendencies?

The answer to the last question would obviously be true if the others were. But whether they were true or not didn't really matter given the fact that James Fucking Potter consumed nearly all of my thoughts.

I regret not thinking more about my own brother at that time. I hadn't known it then, but that was the last summer I would spend with Sirius and we hardly even spoke. Most of what we did say to each other was in arguments.

"I'm not going to the feast with that blood purist!" Sirius whisper-yelled to me in the guest room when Voldemort made an appearance.

"You must go or you'll be making enemies with everyone here!"

"I've already made enemies with them-"

"You've annoyed and frustrated them endlessly but they don't want you dead yet."

"I'd rather they kill me than think I agree with them!"

My hands curled into fists at my side. He was not allowed to die. "Sirius. Don't talk like that. People need you here."

"Like who?"

Me, I wanted to say. Me, your little brother. But I was stubborn and he was stubborn and all I said was, "Your friends at school."

I didn't know if they were talking again but at least I knew he cared about them and he eventually just stomped out of the room and went to the feast.

I'd had to tell Pandora not to write because I was going to be around too many people who could intervene with the letters which only worsened my loneliness. And, with Sirius and Andromeda so intent on ruining our time there, I'd taken to actually being around Lucius and the girls.

"Come on, Regulus," they'd say, patting the spot beside him on the couch.

I'd scowl but sit nonetheless.

"He's awfully young," Bella would say.

"Sure he is," and Lucius would smile at me, his white hair gleaming under the candlelight. "But I can see that he's got a good head on his shoulders."

"Unlike that brother of his."

And they'd all laugh.

I laughed too.

It's difficult to explain but I think my New Romantic Crisis caused for a certain amount of compensation. The only definition of perfect that I had was being the Death Eater my parents wanted me to be and my obsession with Lord Voldemort and his blood purity regime only grew during that summer. I had to make up for how terrible I really was on the inside, how disgraceful I was. I wish I could say it was all a facade, but I'm not so sure anymore. I believed what Voldemort was telling me, his propaganda worked, and I fell for it all.