PREY | r.a.b.

cyclamen | 05

Regulus used to hate the dark. The anxiety he's felt crawling up his throat when nighttime quickly ate the day now merely a tingle of memories. Grimmauld Place was always dim. Mother despised the daytime and Father was usually in his study, away from the rest of them. Sirius would sneak into his room with a lit candle, grinning as he taught his younger brother games upon games to play at such a late hour. The next day, the pair would play quidditch to shake off their tiredness.

They were close then. Best friends, even, before Sirius hopped on the train to Hogwarts. Before he defied his blood and spilt it for another family. Courage and honor run through his veins now. Regulus stuck with cunning and ambition. He made his family proud, not that fool who he once considered brother.

After Sirius's third year, they started to fight. It got violent and wounding, physically and emotionally. Wands were drawn with arsenic lacing their words. There were times where they got too close and went too far. Regulus seemed to always be on the wrong side of those battles. Sirius was powerful, just like he should. Not like Regulus, who seemed to never lose enough mind to cause as much harm. Many memories of the new Black heir being pushed down by the wand of his enemy piled into a corner of his brain. Bruises, literal and not, littered his body. Though big brother never seemed to care anymore if little Reggie got hurt. No, Sirius fought twice as fiercely as he did until he won. He wouldn't stop slashing the air with ferocity and intent.

Images of those days made that same anxiety claw and shove up his neck; just like the dark used to make him feel. Yes, Regulus feared the dark. Dark rooms with dark wands. Dark spells cursed with dark words. Dark locks of hair and the blackened storm behind blue eyes.

-

A quick spell told Regulus it was three the next morning. He blinked, slowly and blankly towards the ceiling. There was sweat drenching his neck and scalp, but he couldn't bring himself to move. He never did after nightmares. The soft snoring and slowly falling moon kept his company.

-

"YOU'VE GOT PRACTICE later, then?" Barty flopped into the seat next to him. They were supposed to be doing homework in the library. Work piled on like snow to prepare for exams, leaving the teenagers whiny and frustrated. Barty was smart enough and rich enough not to need to study as much. He tended to talk and occasionally help while the rest of them trudged on.

Regulus regarded his friend with a raised eyebrow. He may not need to get the highest marks on every exam, but he had expectations to live up to. Stacks of books and parchments hid the numerous pages of financial business he was trying to sort through. He nodded at the question, "Of course, the team would die without me." Though, he could never compare with Sirius. Regulus felt the corners of his mouth tighten at the thought; he pushed it away before he started to spiral into some abyss of childhood insecurity.

The elder grinned back at him. "Isn't that the truth," he mused, putting his feet on Regulus's lap. The other boy didn't bother to move them off. Instead taking the pile of work for Potions and balancing them on the blond's legs. They've been like brothers since first year and this wasn't anything unusual. "We need to get pissed soon. You lot've been insufferable since review started." He piped up after he'd flipped through a Herbology book.

"Merlin, that would be a blessing." Regulus groaned. "We can't go through all this without a drink."

Barty laughed at that. "Consider it done, then. I've got some of dad's extra posh shit I smuggled in."

"Cheers to that then," the Slytherin returned. They shared a smile. After, comfortable silence took its place with them. Rustling of turning pages and quill meeting paper kept a steady beat between the crackling fire. Regulus let himself be a student then, sharing a quiet moment with someone who actually cared for him. Memories of a dark mansion and a fiery Hufflepuff melted into the lines of ink.