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lomonaaerenTitle: Song for a Broken Memory
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Harry/Regulus
Content Notes: AU (Harry is James’s younger brother, Slytherin Harry), angst, violence, bullying, references to infidelity and child abuse
Rating: R
Wordcount: This part 4200
Summary: AU. Regulus Black expected to follow his older brother into Slytherin. Harry Potter expected to follow his older brother into Gryffindor. Neither of them got what they wanted. Instead, they forge new bonds in their brothers’ shadows.
Author’s Notes: This is one of my “Songs of Summer” one-shots being posted between the summer solstice and the first of August. This is for BrokenLaughter, whose prompt is the summary. Thanks for the prompt; hope you enjoy this. It should be four chapters.
Song for a Broken Memory
Regulus didn’t believe it, until he got on the train and saw Sirius and James interact for the first time.
Oh, he’d known that his brother had been Sorted into Gryffindor. It had been the cause of the Howlers Mother sent to Hogwarts, and the Howler that Sirius dared to send back. But Regulus had just thought that was because Sirius felt encouraged to act rash and bold by his new Housemates.
He didn’t know, until he turned a corner on the train and found Sirius and Potter standing next to each other in the corridor, that Sirius was lost to him.
Sirius was laughing at something Potter had said, his head tossed back so that his black hair flowed around his shoulders. Regulus blinked, but that wasn’t the moment of ultimate belief. Sirius had sometimes laughed like that when it was only the two of them, no parents or house-elves around.
No, it was the look in Sirius’s eyes when he stopped laughing and clapped Potter on the shoulder.
He’d never touched Regulus like that. He wasn’t careless like that around Regulus. Sirius’s hugs and touches on the shoulder were always careful. He had to be, because both of them would flinch from too much noise and motion.
Sirius really was a Gryffindor.
Regulus realized he was staring only when Potter glanced up, blinked, and asked, “Sirius, who is this and why does he look like you?”
Regulus’s heart froze in his chest. Sirius hadn’t talked about him.
“My baby brother, Regulus,” Sirius said, with another careless glance flicked at Regulus, as if he were a stranger, as if he didn’t matter, as if—“You remember, I said that he was coming to Hogwarts this year.”
“Oh.” Potter smiled at him, while Regulus tried to catch his breath and tell himself that Sirius had spoken about him after all, and Potter just hadn’t remembered. “Another one for Gryffindor, then?”
Sirius laughed loudly. “No, he’s a snake like the rest of the snakes.”
“Oh,” Potter said, in a far different tone, and shrugged, and they went down the corridor like a pair of panting dogs, Sirius not looking back at him once.
Regulus stood where he was with his hands clenched and his heartbeat shaking his body, and then ducked into an empty compartment.
Or at least, he’d thought it was empty. Instead, a boy with shaggy black hair like Potter’s but brilliant green eyes stared back at him, his mouth slightly open. A second later, he turned away, gathered up the books he had spread out on the seat, and ducked towards the door.
“Wait,” Regulus said, startled. The boy turned and craned his neck to look over his own shoulder. “Are you—Potter’s brother?” Regulus was certain Sirius had never mentioned this boy before, in all his bragging and talking about James Potter over the summer.
“Yeah. His younger brother. Harry. This is my first year at Hogwarts.” Potter tried to smile but failed. “You’re Black’s brother, right?”
“Yes.” Regulus sat down on the seat across from Potter, who was still curled into himself near the door. “You might as well sit back down,” Regulus added. “I’m not going to bite.”
“You don’t want to talk to me, either.”
“Why is that?”
Potter paused, his eyes darting around the compartment as if he would find a reason written on the walls. Regulus patted the seat next to him, and Potter shook his head vehemently. “I’m…I’m a bastard.”
“You seem nice enough to me,” Regulus began, and then realized what he meant. He blinked. Maybe James Potter had slightly better reasons than Sirius did for not talking about his baby brother. “I—that would be a scandal. Why haven’t I heard of you before?”
“My mother’s a Muggle,” Potter said, his voice short and choppy, his eyes narrowed at Regulus. Regulus could tell what sort of reaction he was waiting for, and determined that he wouldn’t give it to Potter. “They thought I didn’t have magic. And Fleamont Potter says that he didn’t know about me. Not sure how much I believe that. But they brought me to live with them a few years ago when I had accidental magic.”
“Your mother?” Regulus wasn’t sure what made him ask it. It wasn’t as though he cared about Muggles.
Potter turned away.
“I’m sorry,” Regulus said quietly.
Potter turned around and stared at him, this time with a curl to his lip that Regulus liked immediately. “You sound like you mean that, but James told me what the rest of the Blacks were like. Sirius seems to be the only exception.”
“And you believe the words of someone who despises you for being his half-brother instead of his full brother and only cares about pranks and being as loud as possible?” Regulus didn’t actually know that first part, but he was pretty confident of it, from the way Sirius had described James.
Potter paused. “Good point.”
“I’m a blood purist,” Regulus acknowledged. “I wouldn’t want to spend any time with Muggles, and I don’t want—I don’t think Muggleborns are—all that smart.” It was the first time he’d had to say something like this without depending on his family members to finish the sentence for him, good or bad, and he faltered under Potter’s judging eyes. “But you’re not either, are you? You’re a half-blood.”
“With a Muggle parent. Fleamont said that most blood purists think that’s just as bad.”
“You trust the man you don’t even call Father?”
Potter squinted at him. “You’re unfairly good at noticing things.”
It was the first time someone had acknowledged that, too. Regulus smiled a little. “Why don’t you sit back down, Potter? We can get to know each other.”
Slowly, Potter did, his head tilted to the side as if he was considering Regulus from literally another angle. “If you’re going to be my friend, you’re going to have to call me Harry.”
When did I say we were going to be friends? Regulus wanted to ask, but it was true that he wanted to be, and pushing Potter away now would only prove to him that his brother and father had been right. “That’s fine. Harry. And I’m Regulus, no nicknames.”
“Okay.”
That was a Muggle expression Regulus had never heard before, but in the course of Harry trying to explain it to him, they lost the last of their shyness, and were soon chatting easily together.
*
“Potter, Harry!”
Harry shivered as he walked down the center of the Great Hall towards the hat. Not that many people were paying attention to him, at least. The Muggleborns wouldn’t know the story of Fleamont Potter’s scandal, and to some purebloods it was old news.
Harry couldn’t help glancing sideways at James as he settled the hat on his head, at least before it slipped down over his eyes. His brother was arranging spoons on the table in front of Sirius Black and laughing uproariously.
Harry closed his eyes. There had been a time when James was his best friend, the only anchor Harry had to cling to in the Potter household with a resentful stepmother and a father who didn’t know what to do with him. And then James had gone to Hogwarts last year and his life had been so full of Sirius that he had even chosen to stay at school for the holidays.
He probably isn’t watching right now because he knows I’m just going to Sort right into Gryffindor, like all the Potters before me, Harry tried to reassure himself.
I wouldn’t be so sure of that.
Harry nearly jumped off the stool. But, of course, the Sorting Hat could talk. He’d watched it Sort plenty of people before him, including sending Regulus straight to Slytherin.
Um, hello, he told the hat, concentrating to make sure that he didn’t say the words aloud. Stepmother Euphemia told he had a terrible habit of speaking of things that should be kept private. And what do you mean? I’m a Potter.
You are not suited for Gryffindor.
Harry’s heart sank all the way down to his toes. Because I’m a bastard, right? Because I’m not really a Potter.
Sorting has nothing to do with your blood. It has to do with what you want, what you value, and the environment you were raised in. I Sort so many members of the same family into the same House because they were raised in the same way and that’s where they want to go. But what do you want?
Harry paused. The Great Hall seemed to fade away around him, along with the realization of people staring at him. I don’t know.
Think about it. I can see the desires in your head, but I cannot put them into words for you.
Harry closed his eyes and tried his hardest to think about what he wanted, not just what his father would expect or what wouldn’t annoy his stepmother or what would make James like him. I want—friends. A place to belong. A place where I can do magic and not have to worry about doing it wrong.
His heart ached for a moment. Magic was what had got him taken away from his mother in the first place, because apparently Fleamont was worried that there was too much of it and it would get Harry noticed by someone else who might have worked out who Harry’s father was. He was always telling Harry to be less emotional, to have less outbursts.
I know the House for you.
Is it Ravenclaw? Harry could see that. He wanted to learn things, and apparently Ravenclaws would be friends with you as long as you wanted to learn.
No, little one. The hat’s voice was gentle. It is a House that will lead you to the heights that you desire and give you companionship along the way.
“SLYTHERIN!”
Harry’s heart sank into the floor this time. Thanks for nothing, he thought bitterly to the hat, and tried to ignore the sound of its reassurances. The hat wasn’t the one who would have to live with the Potter family’s disappointment.
He could hear scattered applause, and the sound of an audible gasp from the Gryffindor table. He didn’t dare look around. He shuffled over to the Slytherin table instead and sat down at the end, head hanging.
“Look around.”
Regulus’s voice was quiet but sharp. Harry looked up at him. He wondered if he would lose the only friend he had because Regulus hadn’t expected him to be in Slytherin and would think Harry had lied to him on the train or something.
But Regulus shook his head and reached out to touch Harry’s shoulder with one pointed finger. “You can’t show that you’re ashamed or upset,” he whispered. “That will set our roommates after you. And besides, do you want to give James the satisfaction?”
Before today, Harry would have retorted that he wanted to give James what he wanted, so that he would go on accepting Harry into the family. But with Regulus’s words, something new and hard rose up inside him.
No. No, I don’t want to.
Taking a deep breath, Harry straightened his shoulders. He was in a different House than his brother, he reminded himself. James might hate him for that, but on the other hand, it meant he wouldn’t be able to prank Harry as easily or spend a lot of time talking to other people about the disappointment of his younger brother. Gryffindors already hated Slytherins; this wasn’t going to be any different.
“That’s better,” Regulus said.
“Indeed.”
Harry jerked his head around. He hadn’t realized another boy was leaning across the table from a little further up. He was nearly as thin as Harry had been when he still lived in Muggle London, and he had lank dark hair and dark eyes that observed Harry as if he were some kind of interesting insect specimen.
“I wouldn’t have thought a Potter would be Sorted here. Did you trick the hat?”
“Told it what I wanted,” Harry said. He almost relaxed. This kind of hectoring tone was familiar from spending time with Stepmother Euphemia. Backing down and respect hadn’t worked with her, but Harry had never dared to really stand up to her, either. She was James’s mum and his father’s wife. Here, though, he had no reason to pretend he respected this unknown boy.
“Which was?”
“To have friends and learn all the magic I could.”
The boy leaned back a little and raised his eyebrows. “Unusual for someone raised by the Potters.”
“Haven’t you heard?” Harry asked, and knew from the way Regulus leaned his shoulder against Harry’s that he approved of the courage Harry was showing. “I’m the Potter bastard. They ignored me as long as they could, and only brought me home when not doing so would embarrass them more than leaving me where I was.”
The boy considered him a little while longer, and then nodded. “Well. My name is Severus Snape. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.”
Harry flushed. Yes, he’d heard of Severus Snape, when Sirius and James were “joking” with each other about the terrible things they’d done to the boy. He nodded.
“And you won’t do what they do to me, because you know you’ll be their target along with me?”
“Yeah,” Harry whispered. “Yeah, I know.” And he turned around on the bench before he could stop himself, to look at James.
James was staring at him with a slightly hanging jaw and such shock that Harry couldn’t help but find it a little funny. Then he shook his head, and turned back to Sirius and the other two boys next to them on the bench, who must have been Remus and Peter.
“You don’t regret it,” Regulus said next to him. He almost sounded like he was making a demand of Harry.
“No,” Harry said, and was surprised to find he was speaking the truth. “No, I don’t think I do.”
*
There were times that Regulus did.
When he was little, he and Sirius used to lie awake at night making plans about what they would do at Hogwarts together. Of course they would always study together, even though they would be in different years. And they would raid the kitchens for food. And they would come up with the best pranks, based on spells from books in the Black library.
They would be in Slytherin together. It would be easy.
Regulus had gone right on believing that, up until the moment that Siirus’s first letter had arrived at home—a week late—bragging about being in Gryffindor and about his best mate James Potter and about how they studied and played pranks together and had already found the kitchens and it was great.
Regulus had stared at it and ignored the way Mother was raging about Gryffindor and “that Potter boy’s bad influence.” His heart had been hollow because he knew he wouldn’t be following Sirius into Gryffindor.
All their plans were dead.
As he watched his brother across the Great Hall, joking with James and exchanging playful insults with his other two friends, Regulus knew that Sirius didn’t regret it, and never would.
He turned as Harry slid onto the bench beside him, and found himself grateful to have a distraction. Harry was trying to hide the right side of his face from Regulus, which might have worked if he was sneakier, but honestly, he was just a little pathetic.
“What happened?”
Harry winced and glanced at Regulus. There was a line of dried blood down the side of his forehead. It wasn’t deep or severe, not the kind of thing that would happen with a Cutting Curse, but it still made Regulus shake his head and reach out for Harry’s hand.
“You need to go see Madam Pomfrey.”
“Then it would show them they got to me!”
“Who are they?”
Harry hesitated, chewing his lip. But his eyes flickered to two people at the Gryffindor table, two fourth-years Regulus didn’t know. Regulus sighed. “Did they beat you up because you’re James Potter’s brother, or because you’re a Slytherin?”
“Neither,” Harry mumbled. “Because they saw me talking to a snake.”
Regulus blinked. “I didn’t even know the prejudice against having pet snakes was that deep. Not that many people have them, but still—”
“Not a pet snake, a wild snake.” Harry picked at the food on his plate, and didn’t seem to see the way Regulus had stiffened. “A snake I found on the grounds after Herbology. It said that it wanted me to come back and talk to it, so I said I would.”
“Harry,” Regulus breathed, and turned to face Harry fully. Harry gave him a startled glance. “Let me make sure I have this right. You spoke to the snake? And you understood what it said in return?”
“Um, yes. Is that weird?” Harry practically drooped. “I don’t want to be strange.”
Regulus just shook his head, because what he wanted was to say it was utterly impossible. “Harry, it’s important.”
“What? Why?”
Regulus glanced around the Great Hall. Too many people were watching them. Snape, in the year above. Sirius and James, whispering and plotting some prank, no doubt. The Gryffindors who had tormented Harry.
“I can’t explain in the open like this,” Regulus said, and caught Harry’s wrist. “Come on, we need to go to our hiding spot.”
Harry nodded, and snatched a piece of bread from the table before following Regulus.
*
Harry loved the hiding spot. It was in a stand of wild grass that grew tall near the edge of the lake, and Regulus had carefully used a spell to shape the grass so that it formed a little curved roof above them. The entrance was hidden and would have been hard for one of the bigger kids to get into, anyway. They had decorated the hiding spot with feathers they found and special sparkling stones.
And now, Regulus had found a snake. He didn’t say how. He just spilled it out on the grass in front of Harry and stepped back.
Harry took a deep breath. “Hello, snake,” he said, and heard Regulus catch his breath.
“Hello, human.”
The snake didn’t seem inclined to say anything more, but Harry sat down beside it. “Do you like it here?” he asked, gesturing around at the lake. “Can you find lots of food here? Or do you want to go somewhere else?”
The snake looked at him with flat, beady black eyes. Its body was green with soft faint yellow markings. “I am new to this place. I was somewhere else, and then I heard a human voice speaking, and I was here.”
Harry blinked and looked up at Regulus. “Where did you get him?” he asked. “Did you conjure him?”
Regulus smiled smugly. “Of course. That’s one of the first spells that we learn in the Black family.” He sat down beside Harry and leaned on his elbow, staring between Harry and the snake. “Why? Is it a problem?”
“Just wondering if the snakes the spell creates last. Or if they fade like Transfigurations do after a while.”
“They’re permanent, as far as I know,” Regulus said, his head canting to the side. “What are you doing? Thinking of keeping it for a pet?”
Harry nodded and held out his hand. The snake crawled a little closer but halted a short distance from him, tongue darting in and out. “Would you like to come stay in the castle with me, snake? It would be warm during the winter, and I would feed you.”
“I am not sure I know what the winter is or what a castle is. But I like the thought of being fed.”
Harry smiled, and the snake crawled up his arm and draped itself carefully around his neck. Harry stroked its back and thought that he would have to figure out whether it was a boy or a girl sooner or later. That would make a difference in which name he chose for it.
“There are people who won’t be very happy about this,” Regulus said, looking back and forth from Harry to the snake as if he wanted to emphasize what he was saying. “Most of the Slytherins will probably accept it, but not the Gryffindors. Are you sure you want to do this, Harry? Really?”
“Yes,” Harry said, and then he swallowed and said something that was true, but which he hadn’t even known himself until now. “I want to carry the snake around and show it to James. Make him really understand that I’m different from him.”
Make him see me, Harry thought, but he didn’t know if that was the kind of thing it was wise to say to Regulus. He liked his friend, he really did, but Regulus had a habit of using absolutely everything to his own advantage that he could.
Regulus smiled at him, though, and this time it looked fierce and free and not calculating at all. “Then let’s go.”
*
“It’s true, Harry? You really have a snake that you’re carrying around?”
Regulus struggled to keep his laughter down as he and Harry both turned around. James Potter had no right to sound so tragic about it. He hadn’t talked to his brother since they got to Hogwarts, except to laugh a few times when someone else pranked Harry and to make some loud announcements about Harry not being a Potter since he wasn’t a Gryffindor.
Sirius stood beside James, his arms folded and his scowl enormous, and Regulus’s laughter faded. Sirius hadn’t talked to Regulus, either, and it wasn’t because he was surprised or upset that Regulus had been Sorted into Slytherin. It was just because Regulus wasn’t important enough to notice unless someone made Sirius see him.
Yes, Regulus could understand exactly why Harry had chosen to carry his snake Asilos openly.
“Yes, I have a snake,” Harry said, and he smiled a little. It wasn’t a smile Regulus had seen before. Then again, he hadn’t known Harry that long. “I’m a Parselmouth, you know, so why shouldn’t I have a snake?”
James and Sirius both fell back as though Harry had drawn his wand and threatened them. It was a bit hilarious. Regulus again had to work to control his laughter.
“You’re—you can’t be a Parselmouth,” James said, his eyes wide. Regulus thought he had meant his voice to come out as commanding, but Harry was doing better than he was. “Potters have never been Parselmouths.”
“As you like to remind me all the time since I got Sorted, I’m not really a Potter.” Harry’s smile became a more familiar bitter one. “So I suppose this is another way that I’m different.”
“You were a Potter until we got here! Then you got Sorted into Slytherin!” Abruptly, James drew his wand and swiveled around to face Regulus. “And Black is the one who corrupted you!”
Regulus found himself turning to Sirius automatically. Sirius was the one who had protected him when their parents or Bellatrix or another relative got too cruel, because Regulus had been a little kid, and—
But Sirius had his wand drawn and pointing at Harry.
“I don’t think it’s Regulus who corrupted him, James,” Sirius said, his voice vibrating with fury. “I think Harry did it all by himself. And he talked with Reggie on the train. Who knows what he said to him? I think that my little brother would have been destined for Gryffindor after hearing me talk about it if not for your little brother—”
“You never talked about it to me!” Regulus yelled.
It was too much, hearing Sirius lie like that, as if he had taken Regulus under his wing after he was Sorted into Gryffindor and taught him all he knew. He hadn’t. He had never done anything but talk about James Potter, which wasn’t a recommendation, and bugger off to Potter’s house over the summer.
He hadn’t seen Regulus. He wasn’t seeing him now. He was just staring at some imitation his mind had made up and acting surprised that the imitation wasn’t a puppet dancing on his strings.
“Reggie—”
“You don’t get to call me that,” Regulus said, and turned to Harry. “Come on, Harry. There’s nothing here for us.”
Harry glanced at him with eyes that had a haunted look in them. But he nodded and moved a little backwards. His fringe flapped, revealing an odd scar on his forehead that Regulus hadn’t noticed before. Almost shaped like a lightning bolt.
“You should have been in Gryffindor!”
Sirius and James spoke at the same time, and Regulus wasn’t even entirely sure of who they were talking to. He didn’t care anymore. He put his arm around Harry’s shoulders and led him away.
His chest sang with pain. He had always wanted to be like his brother, until this last year. He had wanted to go into the same House Sirius did and play pranks with him and learn spells with him and have Sirius make time for him.
But now he had Harry. It wasn’t perfect, but Sirius wasn’t perfect, either, and Regulus had finally learned to see that.
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Harry/Regulus
Content Notes: AU (Harry is James’s younger brother, Slytherin Harry), angst, violence, bullying, references to infidelity and child abuse
Rating: R
Wordcount: This part 4200
Summary: AU. Regulus Black expected to follow his older brother into Slytherin. Harry Potter expected to follow his older brother into Gryffindor. Neither of them got what they wanted. Instead, they forge new bonds in their brothers’ shadows.
Author’s Notes: This is one of my “Songs of Summer” one-shots being posted between the summer solstice and the first of August. This is for BrokenLaughter, whose prompt is the summary. Thanks for the prompt; hope you enjoy this. It should be four chapters.
Song for a Broken Memory
Regulus didn’t believe it, until he got on the train and saw Sirius and James interact for the first time.
Oh, he’d known that his brother had been Sorted into Gryffindor. It had been the cause of the Howlers Mother sent to Hogwarts, and the Howler that Sirius dared to send back. But Regulus had just thought that was because Sirius felt encouraged to act rash and bold by his new Housemates.
He didn’t know, until he turned a corner on the train and found Sirius and Potter standing next to each other in the corridor, that Sirius was lost to him.
Sirius was laughing at something Potter had said, his head tossed back so that his black hair flowed around his shoulders. Regulus blinked, but that wasn’t the moment of ultimate belief. Sirius had sometimes laughed like that when it was only the two of them, no parents or house-elves around.
No, it was the look in Sirius’s eyes when he stopped laughing and clapped Potter on the shoulder.
He’d never touched Regulus like that. He wasn’t careless like that around Regulus. Sirius’s hugs and touches on the shoulder were always careful. He had to be, because both of them would flinch from too much noise and motion.
Sirius really was a Gryffindor.
Regulus realized he was staring only when Potter glanced up, blinked, and asked, “Sirius, who is this and why does he look like you?”
Regulus’s heart froze in his chest. Sirius hadn’t talked about him.
“My baby brother, Regulus,” Sirius said, with another careless glance flicked at Regulus, as if he were a stranger, as if he didn’t matter, as if—“You remember, I said that he was coming to Hogwarts this year.”
“Oh.” Potter smiled at him, while Regulus tried to catch his breath and tell himself that Sirius had spoken about him after all, and Potter just hadn’t remembered. “Another one for Gryffindor, then?”
Sirius laughed loudly. “No, he’s a snake like the rest of the snakes.”
“Oh,” Potter said, in a far different tone, and shrugged, and they went down the corridor like a pair of panting dogs, Sirius not looking back at him once.
Regulus stood where he was with his hands clenched and his heartbeat shaking his body, and then ducked into an empty compartment.
Or at least, he’d thought it was empty. Instead, a boy with shaggy black hair like Potter’s but brilliant green eyes stared back at him, his mouth slightly open. A second later, he turned away, gathered up the books he had spread out on the seat, and ducked towards the door.
“Wait,” Regulus said, startled. The boy turned and craned his neck to look over his own shoulder. “Are you—Potter’s brother?” Regulus was certain Sirius had never mentioned this boy before, in all his bragging and talking about James Potter over the summer.
“Yeah. His younger brother. Harry. This is my first year at Hogwarts.” Potter tried to smile but failed. “You’re Black’s brother, right?”
“Yes.” Regulus sat down on the seat across from Potter, who was still curled into himself near the door. “You might as well sit back down,” Regulus added. “I’m not going to bite.”
“You don’t want to talk to me, either.”
“Why is that?”
Potter paused, his eyes darting around the compartment as if he would find a reason written on the walls. Regulus patted the seat next to him, and Potter shook his head vehemently. “I’m…I’m a bastard.”
“You seem nice enough to me,” Regulus began, and then realized what he meant. He blinked. Maybe James Potter had slightly better reasons than Sirius did for not talking about his baby brother. “I—that would be a scandal. Why haven’t I heard of you before?”
“My mother’s a Muggle,” Potter said, his voice short and choppy, his eyes narrowed at Regulus. Regulus could tell what sort of reaction he was waiting for, and determined that he wouldn’t give it to Potter. “They thought I didn’t have magic. And Fleamont Potter says that he didn’t know about me. Not sure how much I believe that. But they brought me to live with them a few years ago when I had accidental magic.”
“Your mother?” Regulus wasn’t sure what made him ask it. It wasn’t as though he cared about Muggles.
Potter turned away.
“I’m sorry,” Regulus said quietly.
Potter turned around and stared at him, this time with a curl to his lip that Regulus liked immediately. “You sound like you mean that, but James told me what the rest of the Blacks were like. Sirius seems to be the only exception.”
“And you believe the words of someone who despises you for being his half-brother instead of his full brother and only cares about pranks and being as loud as possible?” Regulus didn’t actually know that first part, but he was pretty confident of it, from the way Sirius had described James.
Potter paused. “Good point.”
“I’m a blood purist,” Regulus acknowledged. “I wouldn’t want to spend any time with Muggles, and I don’t want—I don’t think Muggleborns are—all that smart.” It was the first time he’d had to say something like this without depending on his family members to finish the sentence for him, good or bad, and he faltered under Potter’s judging eyes. “But you’re not either, are you? You’re a half-blood.”
“With a Muggle parent. Fleamont said that most blood purists think that’s just as bad.”
“You trust the man you don’t even call Father?”
Potter squinted at him. “You’re unfairly good at noticing things.”
It was the first time someone had acknowledged that, too. Regulus smiled a little. “Why don’t you sit back down, Potter? We can get to know each other.”
Slowly, Potter did, his head tilted to the side as if he was considering Regulus from literally another angle. “If you’re going to be my friend, you’re going to have to call me Harry.”
When did I say we were going to be friends? Regulus wanted to ask, but it was true that he wanted to be, and pushing Potter away now would only prove to him that his brother and father had been right. “That’s fine. Harry. And I’m Regulus, no nicknames.”
“Okay.”
That was a Muggle expression Regulus had never heard before, but in the course of Harry trying to explain it to him, they lost the last of their shyness, and were soon chatting easily together.
*
“Potter, Harry!”
Harry shivered as he walked down the center of the Great Hall towards the hat. Not that many people were paying attention to him, at least. The Muggleborns wouldn’t know the story of Fleamont Potter’s scandal, and to some purebloods it was old news.
Harry couldn’t help glancing sideways at James as he settled the hat on his head, at least before it slipped down over his eyes. His brother was arranging spoons on the table in front of Sirius Black and laughing uproariously.
Harry closed his eyes. There had been a time when James was his best friend, the only anchor Harry had to cling to in the Potter household with a resentful stepmother and a father who didn’t know what to do with him. And then James had gone to Hogwarts last year and his life had been so full of Sirius that he had even chosen to stay at school for the holidays.
He probably isn’t watching right now because he knows I’m just going to Sort right into Gryffindor, like all the Potters before me, Harry tried to reassure himself.
I wouldn’t be so sure of that.
Harry nearly jumped off the stool. But, of course, the Sorting Hat could talk. He’d watched it Sort plenty of people before him, including sending Regulus straight to Slytherin.
Um, hello, he told the hat, concentrating to make sure that he didn’t say the words aloud. Stepmother Euphemia told he had a terrible habit of speaking of things that should be kept private. And what do you mean? I’m a Potter.
You are not suited for Gryffindor.
Harry’s heart sank all the way down to his toes. Because I’m a bastard, right? Because I’m not really a Potter.
Sorting has nothing to do with your blood. It has to do with what you want, what you value, and the environment you were raised in. I Sort so many members of the same family into the same House because they were raised in the same way and that’s where they want to go. But what do you want?
Harry paused. The Great Hall seemed to fade away around him, along with the realization of people staring at him. I don’t know.
Think about it. I can see the desires in your head, but I cannot put them into words for you.
Harry closed his eyes and tried his hardest to think about what he wanted, not just what his father would expect or what wouldn’t annoy his stepmother or what would make James like him. I want—friends. A place to belong. A place where I can do magic and not have to worry about doing it wrong.
His heart ached for a moment. Magic was what had got him taken away from his mother in the first place, because apparently Fleamont was worried that there was too much of it and it would get Harry noticed by someone else who might have worked out who Harry’s father was. He was always telling Harry to be less emotional, to have less outbursts.
I know the House for you.
Is it Ravenclaw? Harry could see that. He wanted to learn things, and apparently Ravenclaws would be friends with you as long as you wanted to learn.
No, little one. The hat’s voice was gentle. It is a House that will lead you to the heights that you desire and give you companionship along the way.
“SLYTHERIN!”
Harry’s heart sank into the floor this time. Thanks for nothing, he thought bitterly to the hat, and tried to ignore the sound of its reassurances. The hat wasn’t the one who would have to live with the Potter family’s disappointment.
He could hear scattered applause, and the sound of an audible gasp from the Gryffindor table. He didn’t dare look around. He shuffled over to the Slytherin table instead and sat down at the end, head hanging.
“Look around.”
Regulus’s voice was quiet but sharp. Harry looked up at him. He wondered if he would lose the only friend he had because Regulus hadn’t expected him to be in Slytherin and would think Harry had lied to him on the train or something.
But Regulus shook his head and reached out to touch Harry’s shoulder with one pointed finger. “You can’t show that you’re ashamed or upset,” he whispered. “That will set our roommates after you. And besides, do you want to give James the satisfaction?”
Before today, Harry would have retorted that he wanted to give James what he wanted, so that he would go on accepting Harry into the family. But with Regulus’s words, something new and hard rose up inside him.
No. No, I don’t want to.
Taking a deep breath, Harry straightened his shoulders. He was in a different House than his brother, he reminded himself. James might hate him for that, but on the other hand, it meant he wouldn’t be able to prank Harry as easily or spend a lot of time talking to other people about the disappointment of his younger brother. Gryffindors already hated Slytherins; this wasn’t going to be any different.
“That’s better,” Regulus said.
“Indeed.”
Harry jerked his head around. He hadn’t realized another boy was leaning across the table from a little further up. He was nearly as thin as Harry had been when he still lived in Muggle London, and he had lank dark hair and dark eyes that observed Harry as if he were some kind of interesting insect specimen.
“I wouldn’t have thought a Potter would be Sorted here. Did you trick the hat?”
“Told it what I wanted,” Harry said. He almost relaxed. This kind of hectoring tone was familiar from spending time with Stepmother Euphemia. Backing down and respect hadn’t worked with her, but Harry had never dared to really stand up to her, either. She was James’s mum and his father’s wife. Here, though, he had no reason to pretend he respected this unknown boy.
“Which was?”
“To have friends and learn all the magic I could.”
The boy leaned back a little and raised his eyebrows. “Unusual for someone raised by the Potters.”
“Haven’t you heard?” Harry asked, and knew from the way Regulus leaned his shoulder against Harry’s that he approved of the courage Harry was showing. “I’m the Potter bastard. They ignored me as long as they could, and only brought me home when not doing so would embarrass them more than leaving me where I was.”
The boy considered him a little while longer, and then nodded. “Well. My name is Severus Snape. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.”
Harry flushed. Yes, he’d heard of Severus Snape, when Sirius and James were “joking” with each other about the terrible things they’d done to the boy. He nodded.
“And you won’t do what they do to me, because you know you’ll be their target along with me?”
“Yeah,” Harry whispered. “Yeah, I know.” And he turned around on the bench before he could stop himself, to look at James.
James was staring at him with a slightly hanging jaw and such shock that Harry couldn’t help but find it a little funny. Then he shook his head, and turned back to Sirius and the other two boys next to them on the bench, who must have been Remus and Peter.
“You don’t regret it,” Regulus said next to him. He almost sounded like he was making a demand of Harry.
“No,” Harry said, and was surprised to find he was speaking the truth. “No, I don’t think I do.”
*
There were times that Regulus did.
When he was little, he and Sirius used to lie awake at night making plans about what they would do at Hogwarts together. Of course they would always study together, even though they would be in different years. And they would raid the kitchens for food. And they would come up with the best pranks, based on spells from books in the Black library.
They would be in Slytherin together. It would be easy.
Regulus had gone right on believing that, up until the moment that Siirus’s first letter had arrived at home—a week late—bragging about being in Gryffindor and about his best mate James Potter and about how they studied and played pranks together and had already found the kitchens and it was great.
Regulus had stared at it and ignored the way Mother was raging about Gryffindor and “that Potter boy’s bad influence.” His heart had been hollow because he knew he wouldn’t be following Sirius into Gryffindor.
All their plans were dead.
As he watched his brother across the Great Hall, joking with James and exchanging playful insults with his other two friends, Regulus knew that Sirius didn’t regret it, and never would.
He turned as Harry slid onto the bench beside him, and found himself grateful to have a distraction. Harry was trying to hide the right side of his face from Regulus, which might have worked if he was sneakier, but honestly, he was just a little pathetic.
“What happened?”
Harry winced and glanced at Regulus. There was a line of dried blood down the side of his forehead. It wasn’t deep or severe, not the kind of thing that would happen with a Cutting Curse, but it still made Regulus shake his head and reach out for Harry’s hand.
“You need to go see Madam Pomfrey.”
“Then it would show them they got to me!”
“Who are they?”
Harry hesitated, chewing his lip. But his eyes flickered to two people at the Gryffindor table, two fourth-years Regulus didn’t know. Regulus sighed. “Did they beat you up because you’re James Potter’s brother, or because you’re a Slytherin?”
“Neither,” Harry mumbled. “Because they saw me talking to a snake.”
Regulus blinked. “I didn’t even know the prejudice against having pet snakes was that deep. Not that many people have them, but still—”
“Not a pet snake, a wild snake.” Harry picked at the food on his plate, and didn’t seem to see the way Regulus had stiffened. “A snake I found on the grounds after Herbology. It said that it wanted me to come back and talk to it, so I said I would.”
“Harry,” Regulus breathed, and turned to face Harry fully. Harry gave him a startled glance. “Let me make sure I have this right. You spoke to the snake? And you understood what it said in return?”
“Um, yes. Is that weird?” Harry practically drooped. “I don’t want to be strange.”
Regulus just shook his head, because what he wanted was to say it was utterly impossible. “Harry, it’s important.”
“What? Why?”
Regulus glanced around the Great Hall. Too many people were watching them. Snape, in the year above. Sirius and James, whispering and plotting some prank, no doubt. The Gryffindors who had tormented Harry.
“I can’t explain in the open like this,” Regulus said, and caught Harry’s wrist. “Come on, we need to go to our hiding spot.”
Harry nodded, and snatched a piece of bread from the table before following Regulus.
*
Harry loved the hiding spot. It was in a stand of wild grass that grew tall near the edge of the lake, and Regulus had carefully used a spell to shape the grass so that it formed a little curved roof above them. The entrance was hidden and would have been hard for one of the bigger kids to get into, anyway. They had decorated the hiding spot with feathers they found and special sparkling stones.
And now, Regulus had found a snake. He didn’t say how. He just spilled it out on the grass in front of Harry and stepped back.
Harry took a deep breath. “Hello, snake,” he said, and heard Regulus catch his breath.
“Hello, human.”
The snake didn’t seem inclined to say anything more, but Harry sat down beside it. “Do you like it here?” he asked, gesturing around at the lake. “Can you find lots of food here? Or do you want to go somewhere else?”
The snake looked at him with flat, beady black eyes. Its body was green with soft faint yellow markings. “I am new to this place. I was somewhere else, and then I heard a human voice speaking, and I was here.”
Harry blinked and looked up at Regulus. “Where did you get him?” he asked. “Did you conjure him?”
Regulus smiled smugly. “Of course. That’s one of the first spells that we learn in the Black family.” He sat down beside Harry and leaned on his elbow, staring between Harry and the snake. “Why? Is it a problem?”
“Just wondering if the snakes the spell creates last. Or if they fade like Transfigurations do after a while.”
“They’re permanent, as far as I know,” Regulus said, his head canting to the side. “What are you doing? Thinking of keeping it for a pet?”
Harry nodded and held out his hand. The snake crawled a little closer but halted a short distance from him, tongue darting in and out. “Would you like to come stay in the castle with me, snake? It would be warm during the winter, and I would feed you.”
“I am not sure I know what the winter is or what a castle is. But I like the thought of being fed.”
Harry smiled, and the snake crawled up his arm and draped itself carefully around his neck. Harry stroked its back and thought that he would have to figure out whether it was a boy or a girl sooner or later. That would make a difference in which name he chose for it.
“There are people who won’t be very happy about this,” Regulus said, looking back and forth from Harry to the snake as if he wanted to emphasize what he was saying. “Most of the Slytherins will probably accept it, but not the Gryffindors. Are you sure you want to do this, Harry? Really?”
“Yes,” Harry said, and then he swallowed and said something that was true, but which he hadn’t even known himself until now. “I want to carry the snake around and show it to James. Make him really understand that I’m different from him.”
Make him see me, Harry thought, but he didn’t know if that was the kind of thing it was wise to say to Regulus. He liked his friend, he really did, but Regulus had a habit of using absolutely everything to his own advantage that he could.
Regulus smiled at him, though, and this time it looked fierce and free and not calculating at all. “Then let’s go.”
*
“It’s true, Harry? You really have a snake that you’re carrying around?”
Regulus struggled to keep his laughter down as he and Harry both turned around. James Potter had no right to sound so tragic about it. He hadn’t talked to his brother since they got to Hogwarts, except to laugh a few times when someone else pranked Harry and to make some loud announcements about Harry not being a Potter since he wasn’t a Gryffindor.
Sirius stood beside James, his arms folded and his scowl enormous, and Regulus’s laughter faded. Sirius hadn’t talked to Regulus, either, and it wasn’t because he was surprised or upset that Regulus had been Sorted into Slytherin. It was just because Regulus wasn’t important enough to notice unless someone made Sirius see him.
Yes, Regulus could understand exactly why Harry had chosen to carry his snake Asilos openly.
“Yes, I have a snake,” Harry said, and he smiled a little. It wasn’t a smile Regulus had seen before. Then again, he hadn’t known Harry that long. “I’m a Parselmouth, you know, so why shouldn’t I have a snake?”
James and Sirius both fell back as though Harry had drawn his wand and threatened them. It was a bit hilarious. Regulus again had to work to control his laughter.
“You’re—you can’t be a Parselmouth,” James said, his eyes wide. Regulus thought he had meant his voice to come out as commanding, but Harry was doing better than he was. “Potters have never been Parselmouths.”
“As you like to remind me all the time since I got Sorted, I’m not really a Potter.” Harry’s smile became a more familiar bitter one. “So I suppose this is another way that I’m different.”
“You were a Potter until we got here! Then you got Sorted into Slytherin!” Abruptly, James drew his wand and swiveled around to face Regulus. “And Black is the one who corrupted you!”
Regulus found himself turning to Sirius automatically. Sirius was the one who had protected him when their parents or Bellatrix or another relative got too cruel, because Regulus had been a little kid, and—
But Sirius had his wand drawn and pointing at Harry.
“I don’t think it’s Regulus who corrupted him, James,” Sirius said, his voice vibrating with fury. “I think Harry did it all by himself. And he talked with Reggie on the train. Who knows what he said to him? I think that my little brother would have been destined for Gryffindor after hearing me talk about it if not for your little brother—”
“You never talked about it to me!” Regulus yelled.
It was too much, hearing Sirius lie like that, as if he had taken Regulus under his wing after he was Sorted into Gryffindor and taught him all he knew. He hadn’t. He had never done anything but talk about James Potter, which wasn’t a recommendation, and bugger off to Potter’s house over the summer.
He hadn’t seen Regulus. He wasn’t seeing him now. He was just staring at some imitation his mind had made up and acting surprised that the imitation wasn’t a puppet dancing on his strings.
“Reggie—”
“You don’t get to call me that,” Regulus said, and turned to Harry. “Come on, Harry. There’s nothing here for us.”
Harry glanced at him with eyes that had a haunted look in them. But he nodded and moved a little backwards. His fringe flapped, revealing an odd scar on his forehead that Regulus hadn’t noticed before. Almost shaped like a lightning bolt.
“You should have been in Gryffindor!”
Sirius and James spoke at the same time, and Regulus wasn’t even entirely sure of who they were talking to. He didn’t care anymore. He put his arm around Harry’s shoulders and led him away.
His chest sang with pain. He had always wanted to be like his brother, until this last year. He had wanted to go into the same House Sirius did and play pranks with him and learn spells with him and have Sirius make time for him.
But now he had Harry. It wasn’t perfect, but Sirius wasn’t perfect, either, and Regulus had finally learned to see that.
