Feel the Magic in The Air (Allez, allez, allez) - error_404_cannot_connect_to_fic - Harry Potter (2024)

Chapter Text

There are three things most know before they ever meet the youngest of Blacks.

One: Regulus Arcturus Black is blind.

Two: Regulus Arcturus Black is capable.

Three: everyone is, to some measure, afraid of Regulus Arcturus Black.

—

Walburga Black had hexed and cursed the healer that delivered her youngest into oblivion when she learned that he was blind.

No Black of her son's station shall be crippled. No Black shall be looked down upon with pitying glances and be given false condolences.

She simply refused to believe that little Regulus was blind, just as Orion refused to acknowledge that one of his sons was lesser than.

Regulus Black was a Black. And a Black could never, ever be lesser than.

It was such a shame, really— many mused. Besides this unfortunate fact, the littlest Black was the prettiest and healthiest babe to be born to the Black family for centuries.

Dark, glossy hair; pale, nearly ivory skin; rosy, chubby cheeks; and possibly the largest pair of lungs any pureblood line could lay claim to. The child cried like there was no tomorrow.

If one could ignore the murky, marble-white eyes; Regulus Black would've been known as the most angelic-looking baby many had laid eyes on.

Alas— no one could ignore those sunken, piercing eyes. No matter the delusion Walburga Black had lived by, or the deep denial Orion Black clung to— their youngest child; Regulus Arcturus Black was unfortunately, irrevocably, undeniably— blind.

Whenever someone mentioned this in the child's presence— if one were to simply look— they would find an amused sparkle and a delighted grin spread across the infant's face.

For all that many claimed the youngest of Blacks to be deprived of vision— they themselves are even blinder than he.

Nobody saw the challenging gleam in those cloudy eyes. Nobody saw the too-smart intelligence that marked the beginnings of a prodigy. Nobody saw the levitating of tiny stones, the pause of mere specks of dirt, or the subtle rumble of the earth as a wobbling Regulus took his first steps.

At least, nobody saw at first.

—

At just two days old, Regulus Black had created more trouble than Sirius could ever hope to.

And with trouble comes wrath. Sirius isn't naive enough to think that his Mother wouldn't curse a baby. No, she would kill a baby. She's already trying to.

Father doesn't care— he already has his heir. Mother just doesn't want Reggie to be attached to her name— to taint it.

As it stands, one year old Sirius was the only thing between his baby brother and death. Mother wasn't pleased— she wasn't pleased at all.

Even this young, Sirius knew his brother was in constant mortal danger. Mother was in a pissy fit, Father was angry with anything to do with Regulus. The child was supposed to die.

But Sirius is human; and is very selfish with his very human needs. He was always lonely in this grimy place with no one to play with. His cousins don't visit very often; his Father is busy with his Lord of the House duties; and to the surprise of no one— Walburga Black was not pleasant company.

Sirius Black wanted a brother, and nothing could stand between a Black and what they wanted.

He didn't care if the child was blind or crippled. That was his brother.

He will protect him— protect little Regulus who laughed and giggled and was just so damn happy to see Sirius in the rare hour he was awake. Sirius felt warm all over when those tiny fingers curled around his barely-larger hand; and those sparkling white eyes beamed at him like he was the best thing in the world.

Sirius loved little Regulus. There's nothing else he's more sure of.

His love nearly cost him, once.

Walburga had started her annual tirade of insults and back handed ‘etiquette’ lessons towards her eldest son one day, and Sirius was screaming and howling in pain like it was the only thing he knew to do.

It hurts. It hurts so damn bad.

But then the most amazing thing happened.

His brother started to cry.

Not with tears and sniffles, no— it was an ear-piercing scream so loud that all were surprised the glass windows didn’t break.

Walburga only startled briefly before ordering one of the elves to quiet little Regulus.

And little Regulus was not pleased. Anyone with a lick of magic could practically feel that little Regulus was not pleased.

It's a dangerous thing to anger a Black. Walburga seemed to have forgotten that her crippled child was still a Black.

Milky eyes glared harshly at the witch. There was this saying that went ‘If looks could kill…’. But killing someone and causing them pain were two different things.

No excruciating torture would come for Sirius. None.

There were only the sickening cracks of bone breaking and his Mother was wailing like a babe. That woman never knew the pain she always inflicted on her victims, everyone was too scared of it to tell— everyone but the seething toddler who was hugging his brother and eyed her like one would a rotten piece of egg.

The rippling sounds of bones snapping and the shrill screams of the Black Matriarch were the first bursts of accidental magic belonging to Regulus Black.

Sirius could only hug him back— awed and terrified.

—

The House Elves of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black were the first to realize how capable Regulus was.

To the surprise of no one, a newborn child isn't the most interesting thing on Earth once they've been sufficiently paraded and seen by all the important people. Especially not little Regulus— blind and white-eyed as he is.

So when all the pity parties and the rather solemn birth announcement ball was done and dusted, Walburga promptly handed him off to the old, wrinkly house elf Kelpey. She was honored— as she ought to be, Walburga had huffed— and cared for the infant like he was her own.

The other house elves were suitably impressed. They made a rotating schedule to each take turns holding the young boy— bathing him clean and rocked him to sleep. Feeding time was for Mistress Walburga when she felt like it, though the newer elves would let him suckle a bottle anyhow.

Little Regulus Black was surrounded by these caring creatures all day, everyday— and he treated them well, beaming at them with admiration and clumsily helping them with chores.

Not that any of them let him; Kreacher had beaten himself with the fire poker once, when a two-year-old Regulus proudly presented him with a neat stack of folded towels.

There was no stopping the child from getting what he wanted— he is a Black, blind may he be— and what he wants is to help his favorite ‘elfies’ with folding tea towels and dusting cobwebs off the musty stairs. They tried anyway.

Caring for him so much as they were— they notice things. Mainly, that Regulus was capable.

The boy never once acted like he couldn't see. He doesn't often bump into anything or even try to feel his way around. From the moment he took his first steps to when Bobby and Marvy needed to chase after him through the gardens— he could, incredibly, somehow, see.

Regulus was a genius, you see. He was just an ordinary, ordinary boy— but an ordinary boy who was blind and could see. It merits something— and to the whisper of elves that serve the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, it meant everything.

—

The three Black Sisters visited their cousins on a warm summer day. They’ve heard the rumors, they’ve heard the grumbles and gripes about their newest family addition.

They didn’t have much to expect from a disabled child, another Black or no.

Bellatrix was eight. Narcissa was seven. Both Sirius and Andromeda were six. Blind little Reggie was five.

Yes, they don't have much to expect from each other. But they are the children of the House of Black, and the only children that each would see for a good long while.

They didn't really have much to expect, but they all got along like a house on fire. Sirius and Andromeda were as thick as thieves. Bellatrix and Narcissa were attached to the hip.

All four loved their littlest member like a part of themselves. Because Reggie was just so little. Just so innocent. Just so happy.

He was happy with them. It meant more than they realized.

They made a pact— Reggie would be protected at all costs. If only for that sh*t-eating grin. If only for that too-wide smile. If only for the little piece of innocence they could protect within this dark, dark household.

Their Baby Black was the Prince, the Genius, the Prodigy. Their littlest brother, their littlest cousin.

They loved him and cherished his sunny smiles and dirty face in equal measures. But Merlin be damned before they do not establish his path to greatness.

If they have to live with a healthy fear for the morality of the giggling toddler in their arms, everyone else would have to simply fear them.

—

Regulus loved nicknaming things like it would be the last thing he does.

Sirius was Siri— the nickname literally meant ‘beautiful woman who leads you to victory’, and his brother's outraged shriek was quite hilarious.

Andromeda was ‘Meda, or Andie— pretty self-explanatory.

Bellatrix was Trixie— it was the closest to ‘trickster’ he could get without the older girl finding out.

Narcissa was Daffy— because Cissy was boring and unimaginative and Regulus had sat through enough language lessons to know that ‘Narcissa’ means daffodil in Greek.

Even the house elves have nicknames.

The only people who didn't have nicknames were Walburga and Orion. Not nice ones, at least.

The Black Children had a good laugh when their little Reggie muttered ‘Dunderheads.’ at the pair's backs during one of the gatherings. There were also ‘Fuzzbutts’ and ‘Dipsticks’ aimed at the other Lords and Ladies; not that any of them could blame the kid.

Six year olds aren't meant to stay still and show the emotional equivalent of a statue. Neither are seven year olds, eight year olds or nine year olds.

Malfoy Manor was as boring as any old building; so the five Black children snuck out to the courtyard and started to play games like any good group of kids.

If those games involve copious amounts of destruction of private property that is.

Lord and Lady Malfoy both had a heart attack when they came out to find their beautiful pavilion garden half-sunken to the ground and four Black children cheering as their youngest wandlessly levitated a giant boulder at conjured target.

—

The growth of Regulus Black can be summed up in three words: chaotic, anarchical, and simply nuclear.

If the pureblood Lords and Ladies were letting out surprised squeaks when a six year old Reggie Black suddenly decimated half of the Malfoy courtyard to the cheers of the children around him— by the time he was eight and bending metal and making a fortune from finding goblin gold and selling it to Gringotts, they were stunned speechless.

The child was troublesome and eccentric enough that his blindness was the least of anyone's worries when they sent out invitations to social gatherings.

No. The only thing they worried their pretty little heads about was ‘How will we find a strong enough charm to ward our gardens?’ or ‘Which anti-cheating spell would be enough?’.

The amount of increasingly ridiculous ways the child was circumventing their magic was so often; that it was practically tradition to throw parties and balls and see how long it would take before Regulus Black wiped out the unofficial-official gambling rings at the Lord's table and systematically dismantle the very foundation of the manor it was hosted in.

The Black family's birthday rite for the child was hosting a construction competition to see who could build a strong enough structure to withstand the boy's favorite activity: Demolition. Often joined by his equally eager older brother and cousins.

The current record holder was Penelope Parkinson, whose pure-diamond observatory dome stood at an impressive 243 seconds.

—

Dear Reggie,

Thank you for the beautiful rock. I shall have fun and use it wisely.

In this letter, I enclosed a book that you would love. I also found a charm to turn any written text into Braille (I have researched it like you asked, and it's the only Muggle invention worth your time, if I'm being honest).

The incantation is ‘Mutatio Braille’; going through wand movements five to seven. Ask one of the elves to help you with it.

I will return home during Christmas break and visit with Cissa and Andie. Try to come up with a good prank, will you? I know Sirius has some good ideas.

Be safe, watch your back.

Love,

Trixie.

Bellatrix signed the letter, and murmured, - “Mutatio Braille.”

Instantly, the letters in the parchment disappeared, leaving only patterned dots behind. She smiled as she made her way to the owlery.

She couldn't wait for Christmas break.

—

Regulus was three days after nine when his father gifted him an Ancestral wand out of pureblood courtesy.

“What does it do?” - A curious Regulus Black asked his brother.

“You wave it and shout spells.” - Was Sirius’ reply, waving his around mindlessly beside him, - “Though you won't be able to do much until you go to Hogwarts.”

Regulus stared at the little stick he was given.

He pointed it in front of him, and shouted, - “AIRBENDING SLICE!!!”

There suddenly was a giant blast of air coming from the wand, completely decimating the pitiful forest that was unfortunately in the way.

Sirius had his jaw on the floor. Narcissa and Andromeda stopped their discussion to stare at Regulus in shock. Bellatrix came out to see what the commotion was about, hands dropping the bar of chocolate she just stole from the kitchens.

For his part, Regulus only felt a huge grin splitting his face.

Bellatrix and Narcissa came to Hogwarts as the terrors of the playground that year, and the professors were trying not to shed tears as they received another Black in their classes.

—

Dear Daffy,

If that weasel doesn't stop bothering you, try ‘Sparky Sparky Boom-boom Man’ (or if that's too long, ‘Combustion Man’). Reg blasted that curse at—

“Narcissa, dear, would you be as kind to—”

Narcissa doesn't even look as she points her wand and yells, - “Sparky Sparky Boom-boom Man!” in the middle of the Great Hall.

Lucius Malfoy and his goons scrambled under the dining benches as the blast of air exploded just behind them, leaving a giant hole in the solid stone wall near the Slytherin table.

She grins as she receives her two-week detention. It was worth it.

—

By the time Regulus was flinging ginormous chunks of Earth with just a flick of his wrists at the grand age of ten, a good portion of the Black family social circle had collectively developed an Acute Stress Response at the mere sight of the boy.

He was an oddball for sure— always rolling around in the dirt like a dog and absolutely refusing to wear shoes— but that didn't make his magical feats any less impressive.

Granted, the boy never bothered with conventional spells. From the moment Orion Black bestowed upon his youngest son a wand, Regulus has been casting spells left and right.

Though, it wasn't spells, exactly. If magical children shouting, - “AIRBENDING SLICE!!!” —at the top of their lungs and being able to blast a chunk of air out of the end of their wands at whatever is currently in front of them counted as spells, then Wizarding Britain will have an additional three hundred added to their catalogs by the end of the afternoon.

Charms were a closer name to what the littlest Black was currently doing— but inventing such powerful movements and incantations were not that simple.

Well, giving credit to where credit's due, this would normally be the case.

However, one must also take into account the influence of a certain dumbass Water Tribe genius would have on the child. ‘Airbending Slice’ should be the least of the adults’ worries— Sokka had yelled out enough names for the various moves the Gaang did that it was nearly impossible for Toph not to pick up any.

There was Katara's ‘Water Whip’; Zuko's ‘Crackle Turnover’; Suki's ‘Fan Shield’; Sokka's own shout of ‘BOOMERANG!’; and whatever other moves she heard about through their stories.

There was also ‘Sparky Sparky Boom-boom Man’; which Regulus gleefully used on days when the more annoying pureblood heirs visited.

(Personally though, he was hoping to try out Mai's ‘Blade Rain’ and Ty Lee's ‘Chi-Punch’. Goddamn does Sokka have some amazing naming skills.)

Regulus was definitely going to try Aang's mini-meteor rock bullets. He hasn't found a good name for it yet, but has enlisted Sirius and ‘Meda's help. His brother and cousin were more than happy to test out the flood of spells that seemed to come out of nowhere when he spouted nonsense every two sentences.

Narcissa had encased a Howler filled with a symphony of Lucius Malfoy's frightened shrieks after they'd figured it out, and Bellatrix could be heard in the background cackling like a hyena.

Well, it wasn't like they were any better— Regulus ended up on the floor laughing as his brother and cousin mimicked the high-pitched screams the Malfoy heir seemed so partial too.

Sirius and Andromeda were equally excited to try ‘Ice Sticks’ at the git, but Narcissa made it plenty clear that Malfoy's head was hers to hunt.

Oh well. At least the professors nearly broke down in tears when McGonagall announced not one, but two Blacks that school year.

It was well deserved.

—

“Who's that letter from?”

The Gryffindor Black was petting his owl— Princey, it was called— and grinning widely as he read his letter.

“My little brother.” - Sirius bragged, voice proud, - “He just invented another spell. Well, three, technically. Can't wait to try them.”

There was a pause, and Sirius looked up to find his friends looking at him incredulously. Even Mary and Marlene put their heated debate about the correlation between science and magic aside to stare at him. Lily, who was beside them, also stopped briefly, before returning to her breakfast and determinedly ignoring them.

“What?” - He asked, confused.

Remus broke the silence, - “You have a brother, Sirius?”

“And he invented ‘another spell’, you say?” - Marlene jumped in.

“You're telling me your siblings don't create charms and hexes every two sentences?” - Sirius’ eyebrows vanished in his hairline.

Jame’s eye twitched, - “You're telling me that yours does?”

“Yes? Whose spell didja think I blasted at Malfoy?” - The Black House’s heir’s voice was confused.

A while ago at breakfast, Sirius had a run in with Lucius Malfoy in the Great Hall corridor, who stupidly said something to piss the younger Black off. Before anyone knew it; there was a yell of ‘ICE STICKS!’ and Malfoy was running for his life while a giant spiked ice ball kept blasting hailstones at him.

By the time breakfast was over, every hallway was littered with giant, razor-sharp icicles.

The Slytherin prefect came out of the scuffle half frozen and had to spend three weeks in the Hospital Wing. Sirius was annoyingly tight-lipped about the whole incident; though that was because he couldn't stop cackling to give a proper answer.

Remus was searching non-stop for the weird jinx Sirius did in the school library, and turned up blank. Peter had grilled the professors, but only received haunted looks in return. James himself had asked the older students, even going so far as to owl home and questioned his parents; with no luck.

A beat passes.

“How old is your brother, Sirius?” - Peter asked slowly, suddenly terrified. The surrounding students were sporting the same expression.

Sirius, mouth now stuffed with honeyed toast, gave a muffled, - “He's ten, why?”

The surrounding Gryffindors looked at each other, and carefully resumed their conversations.

Existential crises can be dealt with at a later date.

—

Regulus bounced up and down, dashing through the crowd of passengers with no problem at all. Years of living with his Earthbending and now having extra sensory abilities thanks to magic, he's living his best damn life.

Sirius was lost somewhere behind him, yelling out for him and pushing his second-year trolley. Regulus pushed his own cart quickly, before jumping on top of his trunk and roller coaster-ed into Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

Regulus’ inner Toph let out an excited ‘Whoop!’ as he skid to a stop— the feeling similar to the anniversary ride the entire Gaang had on Omashuu's delivery system.

Sometimes, Regulus missed the crazy old goat that ran the city. King Bumi the First drove Toph insane with the amount of f*cks he managed to give as she relentlessly tried to get herself banned from the city's delivery system. Freshly fifteen and somewhat still naive, Toph was determined to find the limits Omashuu had— when in actuality, the city and its king had exactly none.

(She still achieved her goal though— King Bumi abdicated the throne to her as a Sweet Sixteen gift and the first order she gave as The Honorable Melon Lord of Omashuu City was to ban herself from its delivery system. Fun times.)

“REGULUS ARCTURUS BLACK!!” - His brother's voice bellowed, and Regulus barely managed to side step him as Sirius came barrelling, - “Never do that again, you hear me?! I nearly died from a heart attack!”

He snickered. Sirius was always so dramatic; nearly as dramatic as Sokka on cactus juice.

“But Siri, it's fun!” - Regulus giggled, hands casually waving their trunks up from their trolleys. He could feel the muted shock rolling off of the surrounding parents. Not really everyday you see a tiny, blind child nonchalantly levitate two huge school trunks wandlessly and drift them inside the train with no effort at all.

Ahhh. The wonders of welding. Who knew sticking four spoons to the corner of their baggage would make life so much easier? Certainly not him.

“Come on.” - Sirius muttered to him, grabbing his arm and gently pulling him away, - “Our compartment's this way.”

His brother (isn't that fun? He has a brother!) clearly knew where he was going in this giant, moving hunk of metal— it reminded him of the Drill, if he's being nostalgic. Just faster, smaller and brighter.

Sirius amusedly informed him that this was a train called the Hogwarts Express when he asked— which was a stupid name, in his honorable opinion. Even Suki would’ve come up with something better; and he's talking about the girl that couldn't think of a good roast for the Loserlord on the spot.

The Hogging Warts Express blew off some steam, letting out a loud ‘CHOOOOO’ sound and started moving. Regulus loved the feel of cool metal under his feet— it was a welcome contrast to the hot, musty wood of Grimmauld Place.

Sirius banged open a compartment, greeting the occupants loudly while Regulus Earthbended the trunks on to the luggage racks. He could feel some stares sent his way, could feel the burning questions they have, but his brother had beat them to it.

“This is my baby brother, Regulus. Reggie, that’s James, Remus and Peter.” - Sirius said, presumably pointing to each of his friends.

Regulus grinned at them, bouncing over to one of the empty spaces. He didn’t need to know who’s who— the slight uptick of their heartbeats when being addressed was enough.

His brother wasted no time asking about their summers, complaining to anyone who would listen about his current one-man campaign of trying to get Regulus sorted into Gryffindor. Regulus tuned out Sirius the moment he mentioned the Hogwarts Houses, opting to play with his space rock that Meda had gifted him for his birthday instead.

Please. As if he wanted to be in the Loserlord’s colors. Toph normally had no care for what her clothes looked like as long as they’re comfortable, seeing as she’s blind— but she made a conscious point not to wear anything vaguely Ozai-like once Zuko entered the picture. She went as far as to ask Katara and Suki what coloring some of her garbs are, barring their short undercover months in the Fire Nation where it was pure necessity.

Regulus isn't too bothered with changing this particular habit of his. Besides, he looks horrid in red; Zuko confirmed it.

Since his other House colors were the same as Twinkle Toes’ monk costumes’ and Mother Hen’s coats’, Slytherin was the obvious choice.

No offense to the Eaglefoots and Badgerfluffs, green is just superior. Blue and yellow would look horrendous on him— trust him; Daffy, Meda and Trixie had all agreed.

Regulus was deep in an animated discussion with Peter about the creation of spells— because, apparently, yelling bending-move names and getting a reaction from a wand wasn't proper spell invention— when someone opened their cabin door.

He didn't recognize the heartbeat, which was a tad confusing. He was about to ask, but James had beat him to it.

“What do you want, Malfoy?”

‘Malfoy’ didn't bother answering him. It wasn't Lucius Malfoy, that's for sure— her(?) steps were too light to belong to the towering sixth-year that Daffy described.

She turned to look at Regulus, and smiled devilishly, - “So. I heard that a certain Blind Bandit was on the train.”

Regulus froze.

The temperature instantly dropped a few degrees, and Sirius’ growl could be heard on the other side of England, - “What is it to you?”

“Oh, nothing.” - Katara, because yes, Regulus would recognize that sing-song voice anywhere, smirked, - “Just wanted to see if the rumors are true. A Blind Black— a first, really. Heard that dear Mistress Walburga tried to off you as a baby. Shame she couldn’t finish the job— what is she, a bitch? Why don't you terminate him, Black? Would do us loads of good.”

Sirius just about jumped on the girl, and Regulus knew he would’ve beaten her half to death had Remus not held him back. The other boy didn’t seem too pleased with this choice either.

James and Peter were tense, and even blind, Regulus could feel their glares.

Tui and La both, Madame Fussy Britches got some lessons and brushed up her acting, majorly. Regulus would've given her a ten outta ten for performance, barring the inclusion of heartbeats and breath patterns.

The other boys didn't know this however— and the tension was thick enough that he could deduce they were about to pull the rug under her.

Time to intervene.

“She is a bitch, for your information. Just not as much of one as you are.” - Regulus replied, also smirking, - “Look here, Sugar Queen. That's my brother and his friends you're talking to, so watch your tone.”

He could sense Katara's infamous eyebrow raise, her mild surprise and crushing relief at the confirmation that he's safe. Well, he couldn't blame her, really. Toph doesn't easily get attached, and she could take care of herself.

“You're the second last, Beifong, haven't found the Avatar yet.” - She said with near-nonexistent relief besides the calming of her heartbeat, opening the compartment door again, - “You’ll know where we are. And for reference, my name's Pandora. Pandora Malfoy.”

Regulus gave a grin, arms crossed behind his head, feet on the compartment table, - “Gotcha, Panda Lily.”

Pandora gave a snicker, closing the door as she walked away.

Behind her; an indignant, muffled shout of, - “How the pissing hell did she get a nickname?!” from Sirius Black was released. Toph's usual booming laugh was slightly muted, but Pandora let slip a genuine smile anyhow.

Opening her compartment door, she’s met with the familiar gaze of her once-brother and her another-life friends.

“Where is she?” - Barty Crouch (Jr.) asked, - “I need my emotional support criminal.”

Evan Rosier grinned, - “Probably pulling another Runaway.”

“She’ll be here in about ten minutes or so.” - Pandora said, meeting Dorcas Meadowes’ eyes, hands upturned expectantly.

The other girl groaned, dropping a few silver coins into her palm.

Twelve minutes later, Regulus Black slipped out of his brother’s compartment with the excuse of relieving himself— and never returned.

—

The Sorting Ceremony of 1972 was confusing, to say the least.

First of all, the teachers and staff nearly broke down in tears when they saw an ink-haired, light-eyed child talking excitedly with not one, not two, but four different people— at the same time.

If the similar sight of Sirius Black and James Potter having a heated debate before the Sorting Ceremony resulted in a year with no sleep, too many lost house points and permanent headaches for one Minerva McGonagall— nobody wanted to know what the sight of Regulus Black and his merry band of misfits would mean.

Secondly, anybody with eyes— which is to say, everyone— could see that Regulus Black was as blind as a bat; yet he was walking confidently, and maneuvered the crowd with no problem. The only other thing that garnered more stares was his lack of shoes and absolutely filthy feet.

Thirdly, never in Hogwarts history had there been this many hatstalls. Stalls, which resulted in very bizarre house names.

The first to start this trend was Regulus Black— because of course it was a Black.

“Black, Regulus!”

The milky-eyed child beelined to the stool, not once tripping over the purposefully outstretched legs or losing his sense of direction. He sat down with an air of finality around him, and as soon as the hat was placed upon his head— it was followed by an uncomfortable fourteen minutes and forty-five seconds.

At one point, the boy reached up and clamped the hat’s mount shut. Everyone could see it squirming uncomfortably, trying to free its lips— but Black only tightened his grip.

It looked like they sustained a very long argument, and the hat seemed to lose. It visibly drooped, and Regulus Black only let go of its lips after a good thirty seconds, smug.

“SLYFFINDOR!!”

Huh?

Almost instantly, the trim of a miffed-looking Regulus’ robes turned green. The boy huffed and stomped towards the Slytherin table, where a cheering squad consisting of the three Black Sisters welcomed him; to the confusion of the entire school.

As he passed her, Minerva noticed that the younger Black's house insignia was a lion, clearly Gryffindor's— not a snake. This only added to her confusion, but she had a job to do, and the peculiarity of the Black Children was none of her business.

Except, it totally was, because the Littlest Black had a squad of oddballs that followed his footsteps; and she, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House— had to be the one to deal with the paperwork behind all this.

“Crouch, Bartemius!”

“GRYTHERIN!!” - Was the verdict after another eight-minute hatstall. Crouch Jr.’s robe trims turned a weird mix of red and greenish-gold, a crimson snake on his chest, and he promptly ran towards a squealing Regulus Black.

“Malfoy, Pandora!”

“RAVYTHERIN!!” - The girl's robes turned a teal blue following a prolonged eleven minutes on the stool. She happily made off the bewildered Ravenclaw table.

“Meadowes, Dor— wait, aren't you a second year?”

“If my name's on the list, then my name's on the list, professor.”

She wasn't paid enough to deal with this.

Meadowes sat on the stool, looking at her expectantly. The Sorting Hat looked like it wanted to cry when Minerva placed it on the girl's head.

After nine debilitating minutes, Dorcas Meadowes walked away triumphantly with her green robes sporting a copper badger, following a cry of, - “SLYTHLEPUFF!!”

“Rosier, Evan!”

At least this one was quick. Two minutes and another shout of, - “RAVYTHERIN!!” later, Rosier dashed towards Miss Malfoy at the Ravenclaw Table with his blue robe hems and silver accents. Both Black and Crouch— weren't they at the Slytherin Table just two seconds ago?— embraced the boy, all three beaming and high-fiving each other.

Finally, after that baffling fiasco, you would think the feast would be an enjoyable comfort for the students at large. As it stands, however— the majority of the school population are poking their food with a sense of fascinated disgust; while a selected minority (solely consisting of Regulus, Pandora, Dorcas, Evan, Barty and a rather eccentric Hufflepuff boy named Xenophilius Lovegood) happily downed the familiar tastes of Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, Water Tribe and Air Nomad cuisine, which were made with some creative substitutions.

All in all, it was a strange first day for everyone.

—

Classes were fun and at the same time, not at all.

Charms and Transfiguration, Regulus got the hang of quick enough. It's just swishing and poking at random things and turning them into teapots or making them float. A quick ‘Koh-The-Face-Stealer-Switcheroo’ and a well-placed ‘Airbending Blast’ got the job done.

(Minerva McGonagall has given up trying to convince the youngest Black to do actual, simple and safe spells instead of whatever monstrosity this was. After the boy somehow maintained eye contact while wandlessly and wordlessly turned a weasel into a plastic pink dollhouse, she was hit with the realization that she'll never be paid enough to deal with this.)

Defense Against the Dark Arts was a stupid name for such a cool subject— but maybe that's because Regulus took too much joy in blasting people and objects away. His friends wholeheartedly agreed. DADA was easily their best subject. None of them noticed the subtle, terrified looks casted between their peers and the amount of sweat their professor accumulated through each lesson.

Herbology was interesting enough— it was as good a workout as any. It was especially funny when Barty and Evan tried to wrangle some Devil's Snare and Barty accidentally set two of the greenhouses on fire after Evan ‘Boomeraang’ed all the glass windows away. Unbeknownst to the laughing quartet, their peers and Professor Mullein were silently shaking in fear right behind them.

History of Magic is just a free period, basically. It didn't even take two weeks before they all figured out how Binns grades their essays and started turning in hom*oerotic fiction. Pandora started this little prank— write a quick introduction, do whatever in the body, copy down some bogus conclusion, and you get a perfect ‘O’. Regulus’ personal favorite was Dorcas’ rendition of the Gaang's journey to end the 100-year war— but the twist is that Sokka invented guns earlier and Momo got his little lemur hands on it and shot puss*Lord Asszai in the dick.

He disliked Astronomy, and hated Potions with a burning passion.

Astronomy was decent enough, even though stars don't really do it for him, considering the fact that he can't see and it would be too dark for anyone to see anything anyways. The only redeeming quality for the subject was that the books can be turned into Braille and were remarkably interesting, because the stars sure as hell can’t be brought back to Earth for him to touch without burning the atmosphere or some sh*t.

But Potions? If the entire subject itself wasn't abled-people exclusive, Regulus would still hate it for the sheer fact that it was taught by Horace Slughorn. Who the hell named their child Horace Slughorn?! It was a heinous war crime to the act of hearing itself.

The man was a creepy, slimy, ass-kissing ableist that repeatedly tried to ‘help’ poor, poor, Regulus by holding his hand and doing everything for him while whispering instructions in his ear with that gurgly voice and stinky breath of his. Regulus would've sued for sexual harassment if he didn't find a much, much better alternative.

After one particularly annoying lesson, Regulus kicked his cauldron over after dumping some hearty amounts of Unicorn-made Gold Pixie Dust (which was very expensive, and also out of student reach behind the teacher's locked cupboard— but does he really care? No.) to fib with his potion.

While Slughorn was occupied with trying to banish the mess, which, predictably, didn't work because of the Unicorn-made Gold Pixie Dust which was by principle, unbanishable; Regulus dumped another box of it into his class’ cauldrons, mixed them, then knocked those potion vats over as well.

The potions classroom ended up being closed off since, oops, too much Unicorn-made Gold Pixie Dust mixed with roughly twenty witch pots of Pepper-ups turned out to be acidic. So acidic in fact, that it dissolved the entirety of the classroom floor.

Regulus quite enjoyed his pumpkin soup that night— and savored his meals for days after when Slughorn never tried to ‘help’ him again.

—

It was a God given fact that as a blind person, Regulus Black hated flying. He hated having his feet anywhere but firmly planted into the ground. Or having his feet planted somewhere that wasn't planted in the ground.

So why in the name of Merlin's half-assed attempt at disguising his immortality, is Regulus Black on a broom, thirty feet in the air, and racing after a flying gold golf ball that has no hope of ever escaping him?

Well, let's rewind a few weeks.

It was the third week of school, and coincidentally, Quidditch tryout week. Regulus, after hunting down his totally-not-avoiding-my-brother-brother and beating some sense into Sirius’ thick skull, was invited to the Gryffindor tryouts, seeing as he was (technically) a Gryffindor. Barty came as well, in all his semi-Gryffindor glory.

Their friends came with them of course, and sensibly, they all thought that the sport was similar to Airball. Evan (the git) had the audacity to laugh at him once they all realized what Quidditch actually was.

It became pretty clear early on that this was a pissing match between the Slytherin and Gryffindor Quidditch Captains, seeing as they miraculously held tryouts on the same day, on the same pitch, at the same time. It was hilarious hearing the near-symphonic heartbeats between Emma Vanity and Liliana Frostfire while the two girls held offensive shrieking matches.

Sirius and James were trying out for the Gryffindor team. Regulus thinks James did fine, seeing as many were cheering for him during his trial flies as keeper and chaser.

Sirius’ turns were easier to watch— mostly because the equipment was made of metal and he could sort of see what was happening. His brother did amazing as a beater; slinging that metal-covered club and hitting every chaser sent his way with a mean bludger. The hilarious part was his fly out as a seeker.

Regulus had never seen (or felt, really) anyone that clueless before— the thing was made out of pure gold— surely, at this time of the day, somebody would see it. Panda and Dorry definitely did, they were yelling and betting on if Sirius would miss or catch the snitch for the past fifteen minutes.

His brother, funnily enough, kept missing the snitch by half the pitch. Sirius was currently circling the seats where the Gryffindors are huddled under the shade, while Regulus could practically feel the snitch vibrating on the other side of the stands.

Panda and Dorry were still screaming at Sirius to look for the damn thing, so he would just have to assume that his brother kept missing it by an arm's length. Evan and Barty were too busy giving him a play-by-play of every time Sirius crashed into the Watchtowers because he thought he saw the snitch between laughing fits on the ground to be of any help.

When the older boy finally came back down, snitch clutched in hand, Regulus could only laugh at his impressive facial contortions. Dear Omashuu does Regulus love his Earthbending. He wouldn't have been able to make out Sirius’ vexed expression otherwise.

“For the love of Merlin— stop laughing, you prick!” - Sirius snapped, glaring at him, embarrassed. Regulus giggled harder. “If you think you're so good, why don't you try?!”

There were multiple beats of silence for a good couple minutes. Sirius seemed horrified when he realized what he just said.

Regulus for his part, only broke out into a blindingly sunny, borderline-manic grin.

“Is that a challenge, Sirius Black?”

Credit to Sirius, he seemed to have understood what type of monster he was about to unleash. The crowd surrounding them was visibly concerned for the pale shade of white the elder Black was sporting.

Somewhere off the field; Pandora, Dorcas, Barty and Evan were rolling on the ground laughing.

“ROSIER!!” - Regulus bellowed, - “GET YOUR BROOM, NOW!”

Evan, for his part, dramatically bowed and presented his shiny new broom to him like one would a sword in the face of royalty. Sokka never managed to get a grip on his comical flairs, even in his second life. Regulus didn't even blink before grabbing the stick from his friend's kneeling form and snatching the snitch out of his brother's hands.

Now, it should be clear that Regulus had never flown nor touched a broom in his life. The closest thing to it was the rare flights he would take on Aang's glider once upon a time; but that's neither here nor there.

Yet, if there was one thing that both Regulus Black and Toph Beifong found in themselves to overcome the odds no matter the dire chances— it was spite.

And ohhh boy, does Regulus have a lot of it in him right now.

Letting go of the snitch and mounting his broom like he would Zuko's ostrich horse, Regulus jumped off the ground and flew to the direction of the fluttering snitch. It was kinda like riding Omashuu's delivery system, actually.

It didn't even last twenty seconds.

Regulus lets it go again, waits for a minute, then zooms off to the Slytherin side of the pitch. He caught the snitch again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

At one point, Vanity and Frostfire's screaming match ceased as the two stared blankly at him, before resuming— this time arguing about whose team Regulus should be on.

Since Evan proved to be a spectacular beater (no surprise; Sokka's boomerang was a formidable opponent during her formative years) and Barty was, unexpectedly, a good chaser (Zuko's explanation was fire-fueled beach volleyball with his sister's trio of lady assassins); both captains tried to get them on their respective sides, first-years-can't-do-Quidditch be damned.

Evan was going to be in Slytherin's, no argument about that— if Richard Miller, Ravenclaw's Captain, wants to challenge Vanity, he could try— but the moot point was Regulus and Barty.

Both were part of the two houses fighting over them. Vanity argued that since Gryffindor already has James and Sirius, then she should get Barty and Regulus. Frostfire didn't even blink when she said a chaser and a beater doesn't equate to a chaser and a seeker, and that Vanity already has Evan so it isn't fair.

Everybody was already tuning the two out in favor of staring slack jawed at Regulus— who's doing some sort of three-person victory dance with Evan and Barty while Pandora and Dorcas count up their money right behind them, having extorted the poor lions that tried to bet against them.

Sirius had his face in his hands while his group of Gryffindors all screamed their heads off. The kids that were at the breakfast table that fateful morning last year felt a chill go down their spines; and their sweat felt just a teensy bit colder, even though there was no breeze.

In the end, Vanity and Frostfire compromised— Barty will be a reserve chaser on the Slytherin team and Regulus will be reserve seeker on Gryffindor's. In matches between the two houses, Regulus will play for Slytherin and Barty will play for Gryffindor.

Simple, easy, straightforward.

Now if only everything else was like that.

—

“Hey Zuzu,” - Regulus said, hands playing with Barty's soft hair while his big-brother-friend lay on his lap, - “Remember Bitchzai?”

The boy hummed, turning his head to bump gently at Regulus’ palm, - “What about my old man?”

He continued patting Barty’s head, careful not to jostle him as he shuffled, - “Just had a thought. Wasn't he, like, the floppiest Firelord in Fire Nation history?”

Pandora and Evan perked up from their sibling squabble, and Dorcas looked up from her book; all interested in talking smack about the Loserlord.

“Yeah, bastard was Head Jerk for seven years.” - Barty turned to the side, squishing his cheek on Regulus’ thigh, - “Why?”

“I just realized something. It was listed that the most notable victories of his reign was the surrender of Omashuu and the Fall of Ba Sing Se, and both of those were led by Azula, not Ozai.” - Everyone pondered this, before they simultaneously realized Regulus was right and bursted out in hysterical laughter.

“H-his—” - Pandora sputtered out through tears, - “—His mentally unstable, fourteen-year-old daughter did more in his seven year term than he did— wheeze—”

Dorcas clutched her stomach, grinning maliciously as she recalled something, - “Did you know that the Ozdick didn’t even get the throne himself?”

“WHAT?!” - Evan shouted, still laughing uncontrollably, desperately trying to regain his breath.

“It’s true! It was an open secret in the palace that Lady Ursa staged the entire coup for him!”

“Oh spirits—” - Regulus wheezed.

Barty choosed this moment to interject, his smile so wide it looked like it hurt, - “He didn’t even get Mother. Azulon had to give him a wife because everybody had said ‘f*ck No’ to his face and hightailed outta’ there.”

They bursted out in another round of rambunctious laughter, hugging and falling onto each other as they basked in the joy of sh*t talking about the absolute failure that was Loserlord Gitzai: The Flambeéd Chicken King That Got His Ass Kicked.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was high, the skies were clear, the Earth was cool and everyone was happy.

Yes, it was a beautiful day.

—

It was the fourth week after Yule when it happened.

It was one of the rare days when Regulus Black could be seen without his group of friends.

Pandora was working on her homework in the library, ever the diligent student. Dorcas was going through her Kyoshi Warrior exercises in that cool room on the seventh floor behind the weird grunting painting. Barty and Evan were working on their How-To-Break-Out-Of-Prison contingency plans like they used to do after their adventure in the Boiling Rock— deciding that Azkaban was a formidable enemy and should be dealt with as soon as possible.

Regulus was bouncing down the halls, excited to go find the banks of the Black Lake and brush up on some bending techniques. It rained yesterday, so he had a lot of mud to work with.

Sue him, he was excited. Maybe he can be forgiven for not noticing the frantic girl that was running down the halls. He did notice when she barreled into him though— they both fell down and looked at each other bewilderedly (or in Regulus’ case, turning his head to her general direction).

“S-sorry.”

“I’m fine.” - Now that he was on his feet and back to the world, Regulus would actually be blind to not notice how fast her heart was beating. “Are you okay though?”

“I'm good.” - As she stood up, he hated how shaky she was, - “Why’d you ask?”

“You sound scared.”

The girl was silent. Her heart, which was already like a jackrabbit, was now speeding faster than ever. Regulus knew she was frightened— intuition from decades of being Chief of Republic City's Police Force and being in and out of dodgy places for years before that told him something was very, very wrong.

Before she could answer, there was a dash of running feet before a familiar heartbeat came around the corner. If the girl was afraid before, she was downright terrified now.

“Lily!” - Potter's delighted voice bounded over. Regulus doesn't think he could stomach calling him James ever again, not if his mere presence scared this girl stiff.

What did he do to her?

“Do you want to hang out with us this afternoon? The grounds should be dry after lunch— there's this spot in a meadow Peter found the other day, you'd like it— we can sneak some food from the kitchens and do a little picnic date, how does that sound? Romantic right? You know—”

“Sorry, Potter.” - The girl's voice was clipped and snappy, - “I've got plans with Sev today—”

“Oh, Snivellus won't mind.” - Potter's voice was dismissive, and Regulus could feel the air wafting around them as the boy seemed to physically wave those statements away, - “I just talked to him—”

“What did you do?” - Lily, since he doesn't know her last name, interrupted— sounding a little frantic. He could feel the way her breath starts to shorten, frozen in place— concerning signs of an oncoming panic attack.

Potter's voice was smug, - “Nothing, really. Just had a chat with him; easy enough to convince the git—”

Lily was near-hyperventilating now, and Regulus could feel how Pot-of-sh*t's words rolled over her. Enough was enough.

“She said no, Potter.” - That seemed to snap them both out of their little bubble, and sh*tter seemed startled at his steely tone. “Leave her alone.”

The other boy made an offended noise, which Regulus couldn't care less about, - “Lils is just being stubborn. You would love to come with us, won't you Lily? Snivellus already agreed, so there's nothing to worry about—”

Lily nearly stopped breathing at that, and if her heartbeat was going any faster, Regulus would be worried about a spontaneous heart attack. As it stands, he's deeply concerned for the girl and entirely fed up with Buttcreeps McGee over here.

His right eye twitched, and that's all the warning Prat-boy got before he's blasted back with one of Aang's favorite airbending moves. It was the same one Twinkle Toes used to knock her out of the Rumble's arena, so Regulus knew how much it hurts. He doesn't give a f*ck when Jacksh*t Otter hit the corridor wall with a pained groan.

Regulus carefully tucked his wand back into the holster on his inner forearm. The comforting feel of his arm wrap calmed him down somewhat, just enough to blast Asscrack with Ty Lee's ‘Chi-Punch’ that left him paralyzed on the hallway floor.

Lily was still frozen, and if Regulus could see, the girl's eyes would be glazed over. He carefully maneuvered himself before her, quietly telling her to take deep breaths and block her view of Bitchboy Potweed behind him.

It helped, and Regulus could feel her heartbeat slowing down and her breaths deepening, before she muttered a soft, - “Thank you.” and collapsed.

Adrenaline crash. Expected surprise really, considering how terrified and stressed she was.

Regulus gently picked her up, and started walking to the Hospital Wing.

—

“Lily!” - An unfamiliar boy crashed into the bedded area of the Hospital Wing, slumping in relief when he saw his friend sleeping, but unharmed. Regulus still had his nose buried in a new book he found— Bella's ‘Mutatio Braille’ was a lifesaver— and perked his ears briefly before running his hands through the pages again. The boy took notice of him, and Regulus could feel him stiffening.

“Who are you?”

“Regulus Black.” - He closed his book, - “I'm going to assume you're the ‘Sev’ Evans mentioned?”

Sev nodded, before realizing Regulus was blind and hastily said, - “Yes, Severus Snape. What happened?”

“I ran into her in the West Corridor. Asshole Potter came around not even ten seconds later and started harassing her.” - Regulus turned and faced Snape, - “She was terrified. I blasted the moron before she collapsed from her panic attack, then brought her here.”

He could feel the other boy's anger all the way from his stool.

“Crackhead Ceramist said you didn't mind that she hung out with him. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that you didn't and was instead preoccupied with something physical, correct?”

Snape, who was practically oozing pissed, gave a pause at that. “How'd you know?”

Regulus didn't even blink, - “You're walking funny. And it's not the sexy type either. You're short of breath too— bruised ribs, I think. Somebody kicked you in the stomach?”

“Yeah. Your brother.” - Snape spat.

Regulus gave a disappointed and half-livid sigh. He hoped Sirius was better than this, but nope.

Everybody seemed to think that because he was blind, he might as well be deaf and stupid too. He wasn't. Regulus just couldn't care less to involve himself in trivial matters. He was a magical genius blasting hexes at nine, for Agni's sake, what is with people these days?

He wrinkled his nose in disgust, - “Anything else?”

“Lupin and Pettigrew walked in half way. Didn't do anything though.” - Snape muttered.

Regulus hissed, - “Ignorant idiots.”

Some of the tension bled out at that, and they sat in an amicable silence when Evans woke up, panicked.

Snape was immediately by her side, hugging her fiercely. Evans returned the gesture, silently crying onto her friend's shoulders while Regulus watched on, heart twisting.

“How long has this been going on?” - He quietly asked.

Evans rubbed her eyes, while Snape scoffed, - “Since day one. Potter decided that Lily was his future wife on the train and has been bothering her ever since. Black joined in— he hated Slytherins.”

That was no news to Regulus. His brother made an exception for him and their cousins, but Regulus doesn't miss how Sirius’ hands would twitch toward the twig in his pocket whenever he passed the Slytherin Table.

“What spell did you use? You blasted that prat all the way down the hall.” - Evans spoke up, curiosity shining now that she feels (somewhat) safe.

His lips twitched at that, - “My own.”

Both blinked. “Oh?”

“Yes. Most of the jinxes my cousins and brother used were also made by me.”

“You mean you made the crazy ice hex that Black blasted at Malfoy last year?”

“Or that curse the Black girl used to put Malfoy in oblivion?”

“Or that other Black girl chucking chunks of rock at Malfoy— what is it between you Blacks and Malfoy?” - Snape asked.

“And how many of you are there?” - Evans inquired.

“Yes, yes, yes and yes.” - Regulus grinned, smug, - “And Malfoy didn't do anything, really, just annoyed the f*ck out of Trixie when she came because he kept bragging about how his father owned the school— which wasn't even remotely true— and that he'd get her in trouble because she talked to some Hufflepuffs about a Herbology project for extra credit. She sent a letter to Lord Abraxas, duh, and suffice to say, his daddy was not pleased.”

Snap snickered. Evans gave a wet giggle.

“When Daffy joined— that's my cousin Narcissa; only family can call her that, don't even try— Malfoy took one look at her and decided that she'd be a good bride. Which, ew, he was like fifteen and she wasn't even twelve yet— so he's been harassing her ever since.”

“It doesn't feel very good.” - Evans muttered. Snape seemed to hug her tighter.

Regulus nodded, - “Yeah, it doesn't. That's when our feud with Malfoy got personal. I made the Sparky Sparky Boom-Boom Man hex not even a week later, and Sirius was more than happy to owl her the incantations and let Daffy have her fun. I figured out a few more spells over the summer and the first thing Andie did was jinx his clothes to shreds.”

“We heard about that on the train!” - The two lit up like children the further the story got (which he thinks is adorable), and Evans sounded a bit more excited.

Regulus grinned. “Yup. That's ‘Meda for you; ‘Blade Rain’ is a nasty one. Then Sirius had a run in with Malfoy, and blasted one of my favorite hexes at him. I heard it was pretty effective.”

They all shared a laugh.

Regulus heard Snape's breath hitch in pain, and pointed him out, - “You might want to get your ribs checked out. That's gonna hurt for weeks.”

He could hear Evans whipping her head around and glaring at Snape, probably for hiding the injury. The other boy only muttered, - “It's fine.”

Evans was already calling for Madame Deering, who was talking to her assistant, Miss Promfrey. The old nurse hurried over, and scolded Snape briefly before making him lay down and drink some potions.

He grumbled about it for a good while, but stopped after Evans got fed up and smacked the back of his head for neglecting his health.

Regulus hates to be the bringer of fallen comfortable atmospheres, but it's clear the two of them needed to grow a spine and get their lives back in order.

“What are you two going to do?”

The two friends stopped their argument to give him a hard look, and Evans finally said what was on their minds. “What can we do?”

“Potter is Gryffindor's golden child— nobody would believe us— and we all know that the Blacks have a reputation among the teachers. Lupin and Pettigrew are obviously not going to do anything; so really, what can we do?” - Continued Snape.

Sometimes, it was genuinely scary how in sync the two were. It was like Lily Evans and Severus Snape existed on the same wavelength that nobody else had privy to. Regulus would know— it was the same thing with the Gaang, past and present.

“Well, here is what I am going to do.” - He said decisively, - “I am going to have a nice, long talk with Sirius. Then I am going to march up to McGonagall's office and have a nice, long talk with her. Then, if this situation persists, I am going to throw my weight around— since people tend to forget that I am a Black somehow— and have a nice, long talk with Dumbledore. Before any of that though, I'm going to have to deal with you two, since it's obvious the both of you missed a few chapters of ‘How to grow a spine’.”

The two looked at each other, a teensy bit terrified, before looking at Regulus. “What are you going to do?”

His lips curl into a classic Blind Bandit smirk. Regulus moved his arm sideways, uncurling his hand while pulling at his space rock bracelet. The metal flowed through the length of his forearm, before forming a sphere above the palm of his outstretched fingers.

He abruptly twisted his hand into a tight fist; turning the perfect sphere into a tight, dense, and rough shape. Regulus retracted his arm and thrusted it forward, fingers closed and pointed towards the wall.

The metal rock flew, splitting before embedding itself in the partition. Multiple shiny, stalactite-esque structures gleamed, their sharp ends a good four inches deep.

The whole thing wasn't even three seconds long.

“I, Regulus Arcturus Black, am going to teach you the Art of Bending.” - Regulus grinned at the awed air he felt from the two, - “Do you, Lily Persephone Evans, accept?”

“Call me Lily.” - The girl sucked in a breath, - “Yes. I accept.”

Regulus turned to the boy beside her, - “Do you, Severus Tobias Snape, accept?”

He was visibly surprised by that, and Lily nudged her friend. Regulus raised an eyebrow, - “You really didn't think I'd let you get beaten by my brother and sh*tface What's-his-name, right?”

Lily snigg*red as Snape stuttered out denials, but finally, he said, - “Yes, I accept.”

At those words, the magic bonds snapped into place. Regulus stood up and cracked his back, bending his space rock back into his arm band.

He nodded towards the two, before hurriedly walking out of the Hospital Wing.

His friends would flip their sh*t when they realized he got them two new students.

—

Sirius and Regulus were brothers. Best friends. Partner in crimes. Each Other's person.

Regulus wasn't mad, or jealous, or even annoyed that Sirius found another brother in James Potter. Sirius loved him, and he knew that wouldn't change for anything.

Sirius wasn't put off with Regulus' questionable choice in friends or acquaintances: not the re-sorted half-Slytherin muggleborn; not the two borderline insane hatstalls who bicker like in-laws; not Evan, who is something in and of himself; nor the random kids he’d drag around after mistaking them for any of the four. Sirius has his group of people, and Regulus’ his; but it wouldn't change the fact that Regulus would love his big brother and Sirius knows this.

That’s all to say that they almost never get into arguments, and if they rarely do, never big ones. However, as any statistical scientist can tell you, one-hundred percent doesn't exist. Ninety-nine point nine is pushing it, but for the Black brothers, the chances of them getting into a row was less than the chances of pigs spontaneously growing wings and flying to Mars.

Well, pigs flew today. They flew like an antimatter-injected yellow octopus flies at Mach 20.

And while screaming death matches between siblings were never exactly pretty— ugly is a daringly nice word to describe what transpired between them.

Daffy made her stance on the matter perfectly clear, glaring at his brother every chance she got. Trixie is getting a lot more annoyed with Sirius nowadays. ‘Meda shoots the both of them disappointed looks, though she avoids Sirius much more often.

His friends were simultaneously peeved and proud of him, so not much of a difference, really.

Peeved because he hadn't told them anything besides springing a, - “Surprise! I got us students!” and refusing to let them beat the crap out of his brother and Pothead besides commiting a few petty pranks. Proud because, well, how can they not be?

Either way, it doesn't change the fact that Regulus will not talk to the four Gryffindors until the older boys grew a pair, man up and grovel for ten days and eleven nights at Lilypad and Snakey's feets. Dorcas and Barty still laugh at the expression, and courtesy of Evan, the group now has a new batch of inside jokes to pass around.

His friends practically adopted Lily and Severus once Regulus brought them into the fold. Barty and Cassie adored the girl's fiery temper; while Vanny, Panda and ‘Verus bonded over strategy games and concocting madhouse potions. They told the two of their past lives, and while Regulus is sure neither Fire Ferret nor Otter Penguin really believed them; they jumped on this weird wagon fast enough that Regulus could recount Toph's crazier crime cases and get applauding reactions out of the two.

It wasn't even a week after their row and Regulus already missed Sirius. But his brother was currently being an arse and if there's anything Regulus hated, it was stupid arseholes who think they're entitled enough to get away with their sh*t.

He missed his brother, and it hurts like hell— but the brother he missed wasn't a bully and wouldn't condone relentless romantic harassment; so it was just his stupid heart being dumb, really.

At least his friends are with him. Regulus honestly wouldn't know what to do without Barty, Evan, Pandora and Dorcas— now with the addition of Lily and Severus— by his side and watching his back.

His brother might be lost to him for now, but he still has his friends.

And that's enough.

—

“Alright!” - Dorcas called, - “Time!”

As of right now, the two new additions are face first on the ground, panting and sweating like there's no tomorrow. It was honestly pathetic— Sukes and Socks didn't even go that hard on them.

“How—” - Severus gratefully took a large gulp of water from the bottle Pandora handed him, - “—the hell do you insane people just keep going?”

Lily grabbed an ice pack from the cooler that magically appeared, raising the hand that wasn't holding the bag to her forehead, - “I second that. Can you even feel your legs after this?”

“Yes Lilypad, we can. You're just that weak.” - Regulus grunted over from where he was sparring hand to hand with Barty, flipping the other boy after responding, holding the position. Barty tapped out, and Regulus dutifully released him.

The girl groaned, - “f*ck off, Black.”

Severus just threw his bottle in their direction, which Barty caught and poured all over himself. Regulus could hear the slight sizzling of steam and his friend’s content sigh, cooled off.

They were all in that room on the seventh floor again, which was shown to Regulus by the band of house elves that worked at Hogwarts because he was their favorite, working out their weekly frustrations on the conjured targets and each other. It was a good outlet for their pent up twitchy-ness— conditioning from a year of constant traveling and fighting in a war from their previous youth doesn't just disappear. Even later in life, when the entire Gaang was all grown up and old, they still had to ease the thrill somehow.

Lily and Severus were a fresh breath of air in that sense. It's been long since they've had someone new to trade punches and bend with. The two took to their group like a duck to water; their own determination of growing stronger made them exceptional students.

There's three months left of school, and Regulus was already missing his friends. Time goes by fast when you don't care to watch.

“So, I have an idea—” - Evan started.

Regulus muttered, - “I'm sure it's a great idea.”

“Hey! My ideas are great!”

Six unimpressed stares were shot at Evan. The boy huffed. “Rude.”

Pandora rolled her eyes, - “Care to share with the class then, Evvy?”

“Right!” - Evan brightened, - “So, you know how we've been calling ourselves the Magic Gaang?”

Dorcas raised her eyebrows, - “That's only you, you prat.”

“The Magic Gang?” - Lily wrinkled her nose, eyes squinting at Evan as Regulus threw a rock at him.

“No, the Magic Gaang.”

Severus exchanged an exhausted look with Lily, already done with this conversation. “Is there a difference?”

“One has two ‘A’s, the other has one.” - Barty said, voice muffled from stuffing his face with the snacks Regulus and Pandora had snooped from the kitchens. Seismic Sense and being every house elf's favorite human was that useful sometimes.

“And that matters because?”

“It's the Avatar.”

Before either of the two can question what that means, Evan clapped, - “Back on topic— since it isn't the medieval times anymore—”

“Never was.” - Pandora muttered, particularly vicious in testing out her new bending move— which was impaling the target with water and slicing them up into sixty-eight different chunks from the inside. From the multitude of thuds from the metal puppet and everyone's collective wince, Regulus was confident she succeeded.

“—I propose a new group name.” - Evan announced, with a grave air around him and raising his voice theatrically, - “We will call ourselves—”

“The Idiots of the Galaxy?” - He grinned.

“The Wixen Girl Scouts?” - Lily raised a delicate brow.

Severus snorted, - “Something exceptionally stupid, like the Marauders?”

“Oh! I know!” - Pandora squealed, - “You think we should call ourselves the Geek Squad!”

Dorcas actually huffed a laugh, - “Pandie, you're giving him too much credit. Socks wants us to call ourselves—”

“—the Elementals, the Avengers, or something along those lines.” - Barty finished.

“Exactly.”

Regulus giggled, - “Better than the Boomeraang Squad, at least.”

“What is it with Evan and boomerangs?” - Lily's exasperated voice asked. - “That's the fifth time in the last hour somebody mentioned the two in the same sentence.”

“Boomerang with two ‘A’s, not one.”

Severus’ eye twitched, - “Why—”

“It's the Avatar.” - Chorused the five semi-Slytherins.

Both Sev and Lily smacked their foreheads. “I give up.”

Evan coughed, cheeks red, - “Anywho, any suggestions?”

He took out a notebook and a pencil, and titled it ‘G-names’. While Evan Rosier was a pureblood wixen boy who has probably never touched a sheet of white paper in his life; Sokka was a sensible and smart fellow, and was simply fed up with having to carry around annoying loose parchment, spillable ink bottles and thin, breakable quills.

“The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo.”

“You read too much historical fiction, Reg.”

“Not my fault ‘Mutatio Braille’ was doing its job.”

Evan wrote that down, and marked it as a solid ‘Maybe’.

“Seven Deadly Sins.”

Another Good-Maybe.

“Three Musketeers.”

“We have seven people.”

“The Three Musketeers.”

Evan wrote that one down, because one could not look at the maliciously smiling face of Lily Evans and not do anything.

“The Seven Demigods?”

Regulus vetted this one immediately. “Nico di Angelo isn’t in there. Which is a crime, by the way.”

They all just shrugged. The name was marked No-Maybe.

“Seven Heavenly Virtues.”

“Cas, that doesn't sound as good as the Seven Deadly Sins.”

“Yeah. We’ll need to add a whole new category for Reggie here alone. Can’t do that if it's called ‘Heavenly Virtues’.”

Regulus turned his head towards Barty, - “Which is?”

“Either Pettiness or Peevishness. I'm not picky.”

Another Iffy-Maybe added to the list.

“Hell’s Angels?”

“More like Heaven’s Demons.”

Both names were added.

“Heptagon.”

“Good one.”

“The Five Stages of Grief?”

“Unless we’re including Revenge and Spite in there, no dice.”

“The Solar System.”

“The Eternals.”

“Septagram.”

“Pretty names, but not good enough.”

They all got to thinking, falling into a contemplative silence.

“Any more?” - Twenty minutes passed, and Evan finally broke the silence.

“The Seven Wonders?” - Sev suggested, clearly out of ideas.

Lily rolled her eyes, - “What wonders are we, really? Eleven and twelve year olds who could control the elements?”

“Aren't we?”

The room was quiet once again.

It was a pretty space. High ceilings and clear, clean windows. Regulus could feel the sunlight through the beautiful arches, dawn or dusk. The ground floor was a giant gym, the entire space was as spacious and as large as the outdoor fields the Gaang used to train in.

On the second-floor loft were shelves upon shelves of books— it didn't matter if it was old or new, muggle or wizard, falling apart or tightly bound; it had more than enough books to rival the Hogwarts’ library. Scattered through the entire balcony space were giant bean bags and soft, bouncy reading nets.

There was a pit of soft cushions off to the side on the gym floor, right at the end of a mat where Dorcas would walk Lily through some flips and maneuvers. On the South wall was an entire armory; every single weapon imaginable was hosted there— blades to staffs to shields and guns. It made for some awesome sparring battles.

Right to the side of it was a large modeled map of sorts on a raised platform off the floor— Regulus could feel each stone and brick of the miniature castle they're living in. Barty managed to get it to become a map of the Fire Nation territories just last month, and since then, each of them had taken turns shifting the map into an area of home.

The North wall was a funny thing— it changes every week. On a random week in October, it was a waterfall; then next thing you know, it was a rocky mountain side. Behind it was a fully decked alchemy lab, accessed through a hidden panel that was often used by Severus and Pandora, but besides Regulus who was banned; it was a free for all.

His favorite thing about the Room was the floor, hilariously enough. It was made with a cool, semi-hardened clay dirt; and the Room wasn't shy with letting weeds grow there either. Regulus had a field day blasting rocks and boulders at the conjured targets, which he and Dorcas collaborated on charming into fighting puppets.

He loved this place. Regulus has no doubt that the others loved it too.

Pandora has taken to stashing things in her cozy corner of the loft-landing library, nestled between the light-haired girl's favorite bean bag. Lily brought her fluffiest blanket and her comfort pillow to the left side of the giant reading net, always taking naps in between her workouts.

Dorcas hung a soft hammock over the smaller reading net, to the side; and Severus had somehow procured a giant dog bed and settled himself between Lily and Pandora.

Barty had a futon placed on the wooden floor right under Lily's net, a backpack and a few sets of clothes hanging from the ceiling above it. Evan dragged some of his dusty old furs from somewhere and all but curled up beside Barty's space.

Regulus could sleep wherever; but he likes sharing space with his friends the most.

Lily was his most frequented cuddle buddy, mainly because her reading net was huge and she brought enough blankets to house a family of bears. Severus’ human dog bed was his next prime spot; followed by Dorcas’ hammock, Pandora's giant bean bag and whatever sleeping monstrosity Evan and Barty had going on. Those two were wrapped around each other enough without him interfering.

It became somewhat of home to the whole lot of them, their shared safe space. They come here for every reason under the sun— to hide, to cry, to just burst out into laughter that can't be contained anymore, or just to take a break from everything else.

Oftentimes, they'll find each other here as well. They don't mind it, not really. They’d curl up with one another and cuddle until they all fall asleep. Regulus doesn't know about the others, but he gets better sleep here most nights than either of his dorms.

He smiles as he listens to his friends. He missed his old life sometimes— his daughters, his grandchildren, his family— but being surrounded by his companions from a previous life and the two new ones he gained; it felt perfect.

Regulus just wants to squirrel them away sometimes; keep them safe and hoard them like he would his secrets.

Secrets, hmm? We sure have a lot of those.

“How about the Secret Seven?” - He asked, - “It fits.”

Pandora giggled, - “Like the book?”

Of course she'd know the book, though that's not what he's talking about.

“No. Our Secret Seven.” - Regulus stated, waving his hands, - “The book is good, yeah— but one of the main characters is named Peter, so we can't associate ourselves with it.”

Severus snigg*red. Probably at the jibe towards Peter Pettigrew. “So, what's our Secret Seven then?”

Regulus beamed. “It's going to be our secret. Sugar Queen is One, Schedule Master is Two, I'm Three, Sparky's Four, Pocket-Kyoshi is Five, and Lilypad and Savvy are Six and Seven.”

They all contemplate this, nodding, though Evan noticed the peculiarity of the order. Realizing the subtle reference, he gave Regulus an amused huff; only to receive a white-eyed wink in return.

Barty, who knew his best friend more than he knew himself, realized exactly why his friend suggested this. The Grytherin let out a string of hyena-like cackles, earning himself a maniac grin from his best friend.

The others seemed to have caught on, and soon enough, everybody was clutching their stomachs and heaving their bodies.

Dorcas’ impish smile graced her face, and she let out another round of cackles.

“Dear Kyoshi, this is going to be fun.”

—

Sirius is grasping onto the last straws of his sanity here.

The fallout with his baby brother was horrible— absolutely horrible. Reggie was a tough nut most of the time, and he got downright mean when he's angry.

Like, properly mean. Not the kind where you hear dry, sarcastic remarks and want to laugh with him— it was the kind where he roasts you alive on a barbecue stick out in the noon summer sun over an active volcano.

Their fight was messy. It was loud, it was ugly, it was the worst moment of his life.

Sirius hated when they fought like this. It was near impossible for them to get this pissed at each other; but when they did, Regulus was usually right.

He was in the right, like he always was. It took Sirius a long two months of reflection, constant fights with Narcissa and putting up with glares and disappointed looks from Andromeda to realize that his brother was right. Even Bellatrix doesn't acknowledge his existence half the time, and when she does, she's more annoyed and snappy than he knows what to do with.

At least Remus, James and Peter are with him; though James was more grumpy than ever and Remus and Peter somehow eluded both disapproving and relieved airs at the same time.

For James, not having Evans in his life, and by extension, Snape (not calling him Snivellus was one hard habit to fix, but Sirius was seriously trying, alright?), was the start of his belief that he lost the love of his life and he would never be able to love again. He's so hung up on her that he completely disregarded the fact that he was twelve and how yes, it was getting a little creepy how much he's stalking the girl around school.

Evans and Snape were doing better for themselves once Regulus took them under his wing. Sirius knew first hand how aggressively loving his brother can be towards his strays. Being on the receiving end of Regulus' affection was like being adopted by an angry kitten that bites and scratches you at every opportunity— adorable.

Sirius missed him. He really, really missed him. Regulus wouldn't even look in his direction after their row, and for a damn good reason too.

How could you look at your brother, when you knew that he was a bully and was completely fine with his best friend being a constant romantic harasser?

Merlin and Morgana both, Sirius had some serious groveling to do.

The joke isn't even that fun to make anymore. Not when his brother isn't there to laugh at it with him.

Sirius thinks he and James have been moping around bad enough that everybody in the bloody castle thought someone had died. It certainly felt like it.

Speaking of, his best friend seemed to finally get the hint. Just barely. After being blasted at with no remorse by the exclusive half-snakes that made up Regulus’ friend group (and doesn't he have so much to say about that); James backed off for the time being. As soon as he's done feeling sorry for himself, Sirius knows James will be cooking up a new fairytale romancing plan that he, Peter and Remus would no doubt have to thwart.

He loves his idiotic best friend, he really does— but everything James is currently doing is crawling out of the annoying box and into the mildly disturbing territory. Sirius couldn't believe he’s able to consciously ignore it for this long.

Though that was the problem, wasn't it? Because Sirius ignored what he had done wrong, ignored what they had done wrong, everything fell apart. He was a bully. James was being a creepy stalker to Evans. They were both bigoted bastards to the Slytherins even though most of them didn't do anything remotely evil.

Acknowledging it hurts, because Sirius doesn't like to see himself that way. But it was necessary, because he knew better now.

If there was one thing Regulus loathed with every fiber of his being, it was ignorance and intolerance. Sirius was both ignorant and intolerant, big time.

When he first went to Hogwarts, it came with the heavy expectations of his insane family and Bellatrix and Narcissa’s infamous reputation. People were whispering in the halls, the classrooms, the dorms. Even within his own common room, Sirius was constantly watched by wary people.

Will he sneer and snarl at every muggleborn that bumps into him? Will he snap and curse the living daylights out of someone for a joke? Just when will he get fed up and screw himself over like the rest of his family?

The never ending judgment was wearing him thin, because Sirius wasn't like his brother or cousins.

He couldn't make those stares go away with a cold glance, like Bella. He couldn't float through the halls like some graceful princess with his head held high, like Cissa'. He couldn't endear himself to his peers with friendly smiles and warm words, like Andie.

And he definitely couldn't charm the entire school on his first day by arguing with the Sorting Hat, Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore at the same time and winning, not like Regulus.

His brother just did so much for people, and the boy didn't even know.

Sirius had seen the hard faced Amelia Bones huff a genuine laugh when Regulus mistook her for one of his friends, apologizing profusely, then excitedly inviting her to study with them. Sirius had seen Regulus accidentally drag two teary-faced Hufflepuffs down to the greenhouses for Herbology, rambling about one thing or another; only to walk out with them two hours later, both bright and grinning. Sirius had seen how Regulus cracked their dear, hard-assed librarian not even three days in; helping her with organizing books and assisting the other students with finding theirs, to varying degrees of success.

The tables with just one, lonely kid hunched over their textbook, looking like they want to cry? Regulus would sit down and have them smiling and happy in fifteen minutes. Some asshole hurling slurs and humiliating another student? Regulus would jump on them like a bat out of hell and have them screaming for the hills while the victim learned some very wicked defensive spells. Moaning Myrtle wailing and flooding the second floor's girl's loo again? Get Regulus inside and he'll have her chatting and rambling in no time.

Everybody was mistaken as one of his friends, once or twice— because the poor kid was blind, so really, nobody minded— but being mistaken as a friend and then becoming Regulus Black's actual friend was a growing trend in the castle. It was mind-boggling how many people would get greeted by Regulus at any time of the day, and how many would greet him back.

(Even Filch and Mrs. Norris liked him. A f*cking world record, honestly.)

Sirius was pretty damn jealous, he knows that. But he also knows that he was happy for his brother and Regulus deserves all the friendly waves and hair ruffles in the world.

Damn his own f*cking Magic— he missed his little brother. But his pride dictates that until he can restore his honor, he won't be bothering Regulus anytime soon.

While it was annoying, it was strangely motivating too.

So, Sirius started to make amends. He found and apologized to the students he had hurt, just months ago. Wrote each of them a heartfelt letter, and even got some replies back.

While some of it was just telling him to f*ck off and go to hell (well deserved, in his mind) from the younger students, the rest of the answers were the older ones cautioning him about his slight and not to do it again. As if Sirius would need a reminder that snakes could hold a wicked grudge— his own family was proof enough for that.

The stilted and mildly threatening reply from Snape was enlightening. It tore him a new asshole through text alone (though with very fancy-smancy wording), and ended with an ominous ‘TBC’. That was a warning in and of itself— it seems the two of them will have a due talk later.

Right before the enormous dogpile of homework that was to be assigned for Easter break, Sirius drafted up a letter and sent it to Euphemia and Fleamont Potter. Everything starts at the source, and now that Sirius had realized his mistakes and apologized to everyone, it's high time to get James to see some sense.

His best friend was starting to bother Evans again, but she didn't put up with it this time. If Lily Evans has been playing nice and acted all fine and dandy like some precious flower for the near three school semesters that Sirius had known her— she's now working twice as hard to shut down James and looked just one breath away from burning him alive.

Whatever she's been learning from Regulus and his merry band of misfits clearly paid off. Just yesterday, he, Peter and Remus had to drag James down to the Hospital Wing for the most embarrassing case of testicular trauma ever. And that madman still had the spirit to wake up first thing in the morning and demanded to see Evans.

If Sirius wasn’t one last straw away from snapping and going insane, he would've admired his friend's fiery passion and commitment. As it stands, however, it's getting more than annoying to have to physically hold James back from jumping on the girl— though Evans looked like she was looking forward to it.

Sirius had to have so many conversations with James Moron Potter about how no, Evans wanting to beat the sh*t out of you for bullying her best friend and harassing her does NOT equate with her wanting to be around you. It was getting ridiculous.

Hence, the letter.

Here's to hoping that it works.

—

“Hey Reggie…?”

His brother paused. This was the first time they interacted since The Argument, so the raised eyebrow was well deserved.

“You were right.” - Sirius said, pathetically.

He always wondered how Regulus managed to make it look like he was staring daggers into the deepest, darkest parts of your soul, even though he couldn't see. Like now.

Regulus delicately raised his other eyebrow, as if to say, - ‘That's all?’

Sirius looked away, shame faced. He… really didn't know what to say.

But what could he say?

Sorry, I was too busy being a bully to pull that stick out of my arse? Sorry, I was too much of a pompous prat? Sorry, for what exactly?

Regulus wasn't Snape. He wasn't Evans. He wasn't any of the people Sirius wronged, and at the same time, all of them.

And Sirius was just… confused. He doesn't know what to say. There was nothing to say.

But he knows he has to say something.

So he doesn't say anything.

They stared at each other for a long while, the buzz of the crowded station fading away. As Sirius looked into his brother's milky eyes, his heart was hammering like a restless bludger trapped in his chest. It might've been seconds, minutes— but it felt like centuries.

Suddenly, Regulus broke into a blinding smile, and then the noise all came crashing back. It was quite dizzying.

His brother gave him a hearty ‘SMACK’ on the arm— which, ow, how the hell is he this strong???— and gave him the most judgemental, - “Took you long enough, idiot.” ever.

Sirius rubbed his shoulder, also smiling. It was a tentative one— hesitant, unsure. Regulus seemed to feel it, and he rolled his eyes.

“Come on. We have three months of each other's lives to catch up on.”

—

When James treaded back on the Hogwarts Express after Easter break looking ashamed and thoroughly scolded, Sirius did a little victory dance.

‘IT f*ckING WORKED, BITCHES!!!’

Regulus had run off to find his friends earlier, and after years of having to chase after his brother while the boy somehow made his way to wherever he wanted to go, Sirius doesn't find it in himself to worry about him all that much anymore.

Peter and Remus clearly saw his happy mood and James’ change of heart, because the two of them looked like the weight of the world had been lifted off their shoulders.

Life was right as rain again.

He got his brother back, his best friend had his head re-screwed on the right way this time, the three of them made some (marginal) headway on finding a cure for Remie's furry little problem, and the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin was fast approaching.

Sirius was pretty damn happy these days.

Daffy and Andie forgave him for his offense, after much groveling and apologizing. The three of them decided that the best way to celebrate is to make Lucius Malfoy's life a living hell (who was still bothering Cissy, goddamn, Sirius was such a motherf*cking hypocrite), and Reggie whipped up another batch of spells he's been working on for them to test.

Bella had smacked him for his dumbassery, but they made up and dragged their siblings for some much needed Black-Children-Only Bonding Time.

School was still rough, and Sirius had been on the receiving end of some pretty nasty glares, but his friends and family are back with him and that's all that really matters.

“You realize that we never left in the first place, right?” - Regulus, always the perceptive kid, asked, - “Disappointed and pretty darn pissed at you, yeah, but if you were getting hexed and cursed at in the hallways we'd still banish their heads off.”

The other three nodded. Sirius huffed a laugh.

“I'm pretty sure you'd give me your kidney no questions asked, but your respect is an entirely different matter, isn't it?”

His brother gave him that big, blinding, sh*t-eating grin. After about three months going without it— Sirius was determined to get his fill of Reggie-cuddles and Reggie-smiles again, tenfold.

“Of course you dunce. You're my big brother— not my bride.”

They all shared a laugh at that, tossing grapes, cheeses and crackers they previously smuggled from the kitchen at each other.

Yeah. Life is looking up.

—

Regulus isn't scared, or so he says.

Severus snickers quietly as the younger kept pouting and insisting that he isn't.

Apparently, anyone that says he is will have their head bashed into the ground from the Astronomy Tower.

But anyone and everyone could see that the young Black was at least… nervous.

Severus should feel bad, but Regulus brought this onto himself. If he was stupid enough to take on a dare from Dorcas without knowing what it is, he deserves to have the six of them teasing him with no remorse for the rest of his life.

You see, the Ancient Serpent House of Salazar Slytherin has a wonderful, beautiful tradition— each year, the newest batch of snakelets are to take a skinny-dip in the Black Lake to immerse themselves with the body of nature that guards their dorms. As society progresses, this tradition was tweaked as needed— such as the addition of swimwear and the annual Slytherin Summer Fashion Show (which was more of an excuse for older students to model and strut in gorgeous pieces of art while making their exes weep) to start off the event.

As itty bitty little Slytherin first years, the only Slytherin first years, they were understandably excited. His housemates have been buzzing non stop about how the Giant Squid allegedly has an honorary degree from Hogwarts five centuries ago, the new designs from the Fashion Club, and how there was a legend about another one of Slytherin's beasts in hibernation under the Lake, unrelated to to whatever monster he put in the Chamber of Secrets.

Honestly, the only thing Severus could confirm about all the rumors was the merfolk getting all excited. They've been tapping the dorm windows in and out and signing with more enthusiasm than usual. Regulus befriended them quickly— no surprise— and somehow, the younger boy and the school of merchildren that frequented the common room window created an entire language filled with whistles, taps and squeaks within two hours.

At this rate, Severus wouldn't be surprised if the kid declared himself overlord and got everyone to comply one day. They've been barely holding him back from faking his death and performing the most dramatic hostile takeover to ever hostile takeovered on the Old, Grimy and Not-At-All Noble House of Goths he spawned from; so what's to say he wouldn't do it for the rest of Wizarding Britain?

But back to the swim fest. Normally, second years and above joined in for fun, but the first jump was always made for the first years. Normally.

As Regulus was blind and had stubbornly refused to sit out of this (completely due to the fact that the boy knew his pride was at stake and would not take it sitting down); Severus suddenly got dragged into this as a male upper year Slytherin whom the youngest Black trusted, and was assigned to be his little friend's guide.

Black Senior of the damn lion pride was more than miffed at this, of course— but he wasn't a Slytherin, so he doesn't get a say. Severus’ negative feelings towards his year mate might've lessened after that rather genuine apology letter; but it didn't erase nearly two years of hate and resentment— only time can do that, honestly— so sue him if he's just a teensy bit vindictive.

Okay. Severus is smug. Like really smug.

But it was for a good cause (i.e. riling up Senior Black), and he was sure the Squid, who Severus names Inkabella, will simply be ecstatic to have a new playmate. Not many knew that she was half-blind, and he himself was only privy to that information because of his frequent dips in the Lake to gather gillyweed and freshwater ocean sprout for his potions.

Regulus was clutching his arm with a death grip, trying his best to look brave. The boy nearly pulled it off, honestly— if Severus didn't know his friend so well, he would've been fooled. It was adorable, really, but there was nothing to be afraid of.

He could understand the terrified feeling of going into the unknown. Regulus was already blind, and his only way of interacting with the world is now being muted— if not stripped away entirely— and he's walking into this death trap blind. Literally.

But Severus knows with unwavering certainty that the water wouldn't hurt them. It wouldn't hurt the children that it was casted to protect. And Regulus is a part of that demographic— so there really isn't anything to be scared of.

If only Severus had the words and social adaptiveness to reassure Regulus. Being a people person was Lily's job, not his. He could only be there, like some sort of consolation statue in his friends’ safe corners.

This seems to be what Regulus needed. He was tensed stiff on Severus’ arm, and the second-year had to maneuver himself carefully to not accidentally break his right limb; but the younger boy relaxed minutely when he realized his guide wasn't nervous.

The countdown ended, and every Slytherin first-year jumped into the Lake with huge smiles. Severus pulled Regulus with him, careful to tell the boy where to step.

Reg stuck with him throughout the hour, having fun and actually laughing in the shallower banks with the rest of their group.

Barty and Evan soon started a mud throwing competition— and that was their first mistake.

Their second was to let Regulus join in on the fun, when all six knew very well their little brother's mastery in all things dirt.

Their third was challenging him.

It was a blur filled with cackles and shouts, dirty hands and even dirtier feet jumping and tackling each other. Despite his normally broody mood, Severus was actually enjoying himself. Smirking gleefully, he wound up his arm and lobbed a rather large piece of clay at the back of Potter's head.

Lily gave him a cheer, and the group of Gryffindors watching the exchange didn't hesitate before they were marching down to the banks, all on a warpath.

“LIONS INCOMING!!!”

The Slytherin-Gryffindor Mud War of the 1972-1973 school year was written down in history as one of the most memorable and brutal piss-matches between the two rival houses. The climax of the battle was the realization that a certain Baby Black was nowhere to be found, to which they promptly blamed the other side for the lovable boy's disappearance.

A somewhat-truce was formed, and the Mud War of ‘73 came to a very tension-filled pause as the two houses united under the same cause.

While everyone else was shouting insults and wild speculations at each other and worriedly searching for their blind friend; the remaining Black Children and Regulus’ group were panicking for completely different reasons.

Regulus is competitive, and they've all seen what he does when he's competitive at least once in their very scarred lifetimes. Just before Severus was planning to leap out of the Lake and go fetch the Headmaster (because as much as he really dislikes the red-robed Gryffindors, he doesn't want to see them dead), there was a huge rumble that shook the Earth.

Then, from the great depths of the Black Lake, rose a giant head of a serpentine ichthyosaur. Anybody who took a single Cares of Magical Creatures class knows that this was a Class 8 sea monster— and by the sheer size of it, the giant sea serpent looks to be about one or two thousand years old.

And on the head of the monstrous thing, a mere dot of black hair in comparison to the humongous fins and blazing red eyes, sat a smug-looking Regulus Black in all his glory.

Severus really, really shouldn't be surprised. After getting into bullsh*ttery after bullsh*ttery on those half-Slytherins’ dimes, their most chaotic member riding Slytherin's Other Monster isn't really the most ground-breaking thing to see.

The same can't really be said by the other students, however. But because this was Hogwarts and having the Loch Ness Monster (Regulus had promptly informed them of his quick underwater trip to the loch through some hidden portal near the first-year's boat docks and subsequent meeting with her Lady Loch Nessieness, the Seven Seas Commander during breakfast the next morning) appearing out of nowhere was probably the most notable thing to previously occupied eleven and twelve year-olds who spent an entire year in the ridiculous presence of Baby Black and his friends.

So, after a good ten minutes of slack jawed staring and Regulus doing some sort of fight dance on top of the serpent's head, the two houses went back to throwing mud at each other.

This time, with the Giant Squid (yeah, apparently Inkabella was friends with the thing) and the Loch Ness Monster to their aid.

It was one hell of an ending to the school year. After exams, Slytherin flattened Gryffindor in their Quidditch match (Regulus was basically launching himself towards the snitch half the game, and spent the other half throwing bludgers towards his brother without a club), and the House of Snakes won themselves the House and Quidditch Cup after a long, hard-fought battle with the lions.

Stepping off the train, arm in arm with Lily and heading dashing through the portal to King's Cross, Severus wished this would never end.

—

It was a peaceful school year for Walburga Black.

No disturbances, no unruly behavior, and most of all— no children.

CRASH.

“KREACH-CHHERRRRR!!!” - The booming shout of her weakest child roared throughout the tranquil atmosphere, - “We're backkkk!!!!”

Hogwarts seemed to have loosened some of Regulus’ manners. Walburga's eyes twitched. An etiquette lesson is in order, it seems.

Oh, how she hated June 30th. It only spells out a disastrous three months to come.

It will not be a peaceful summer for Walburga Black.

There will be disturbances. There will be unruly behavior. There will be children.

She loathes it already.