Only the Brave

Chapter 17: What if I told you I like you?

Regulus is not having a good day. Admittedly, he doesn't think he's had a good day in years but like the past three have been particularly hard. He had more trouble than usual sleeping last night after the incident with the other Slytherins and Lupin. He had to take extra potion for it to take effect. His usual dose didn't work as it should have.

Something tells Regulus he should perhaps look into this, or at least be a little bit concerned, but he doesn't have time or headspace for it. He's busy. He's stressed. He's nervous.

The note James sent him is in his pocket, where it's been since Monday morning.

Regulus has read it approximately a million times. It's pathetic. He knows. Leave him the fuck alone. Thank you.

It's now Wednesday, and James still hasn't come looking for him. This either means he hasn't told Sirius yet, which is unlikely because James is Godric Gryffindor incarnate so cowardice isn't a thing he's ever experienced, or it means Regulus was right. Sirius has convinced James to stay away from him and Regulus is never going to kiss him again.

Regulus wants to kill his brother.

This isn't new, but the intensity of the feeling has been enhanced.

Resigned to another day of misery, Regulus follows Barty and Evan into the Great Hall. Dorcas is already here because she went all the way to the Gryffindor Tower so she could walk with Marlene to breakfast. This, Regulus thinks, is highly inefficient but whatever floats Dorcas' boat. He's not going to judge. Not when he's got a note with a single sentence that he takes out every chance he gets to obsess over the little J signed at the end of it.

Pandora waves at them from where she's sitting next to Dorcas. Barty and Evan sit next to each other, and Regulus takes the space by the girls. As soon as the boys are settled, Dorcas motions for them to lean closer. Regulus hasn't even had time to pour himself coffee.

"I think Mulciber, Avery and the lot are up to something," she whispers.

"Why?" Evan asks. Barty is already looking down the table with narrowed eyes.

"They've been acting weird since they got here," Pandora agrees. "Their auras are all wrong. Well, more wrong than usual."

Regulus would guess this has something to do with them being hexed last night. Who knows how long they were in that corridor before a spell wore off or someone found them. Regulus hopes it was a while.

But he doesn't mention it because he doesn't want to explain himself to his friends. Instead, Regulus scowls. "And this is our problem how?"

"It isn't," Dorcas says. "Not yet, anyway. But be alert."

They're interrupted by the arrival of the morning mail. Regulus leans back, away from spilt hot beverages and juice which are always a consequence of the owls' bad aim. He's not expecting anything, so he takes the opportunity to finally pour himself a large cup of coffee, black like his soul, and then look over at the Gryffindor table.

And he promptly chokes on his coffee because his brother is looking right at him.

He knows.

Regulus coughs a couple of times, sets the cup down. He steels himself, then looks up again and meets Sirius' eye. He's angry. Oh, he's fucking furious. Sirius is grinding his teeth, and there's that little muscle under his left eye that jumps when he's very mad. They used to make fun of it together in Grimmauld Place before Sirius ran away.

Ah. What a way to rescue a rapidly declining morning. Sirius absolutely seething with rage has made Regulus' day. Honestly, Regulus almost smiles, because it's so satisfying. And Regulus knows Sirius well enough to discern that this isn't about last night with Lupin. He thinks. It could be... but really, that Regulus would side with the Slytherins is what his brother expects of him. Isn't it? He'd never go out of his way to glare daggers at him over something so mundane.