Chapter Text
“Regulus? Regulus, are you still with us?”
Potter. James Potter . Potter is a common last name, right? Surely he’s not, surely-
“Should we do something? He looks like he’s going to pass out.”
“That’s just his skin tone James, don’t be rude.”
“Siri! I’m serious!"
“No I a-”
“I COULD STRANGLE YOU! YOUR BROTHER IS DYING!”
“He’s just dramatic! Give him a second.”
Potter. Like Fleamont Potter? Like famous movie star and Regulus’ massive childhood crush Fleamont Potter? No, surely not. No. It’s just a coincidence. Just a massive joke. Just a coincidence that they look almost identical. No, different eyes. And James is wearing glasses.
“See if you look closely you can almost see the wheels turning in his little head.”
James and Sirius lean in close on either side of him and Regulus’ eyes flick between them.
“I’m going to my room.” He says in the coldest tone he can manage.
“Your room is the other one!” Sirius yells after him as he scampers away down the hall.
***
Why did he think this was a good idea? He is so stupid. Moving in with the brother he hasn’t spoken to in over six years, who just up and abandoned him and never looked back. Not to mention his flatmate. No, we’re ignoring that for now.
Sirius looks different. He’s no longer the fourteen year old kid that ran away. He has piercings now, and tattoos, and he’s grown his hair out. He looks happy.
It makes Regulus feel hollow, like a tick in need of blood. It makes him feel like a parasite. Crashing in his brother’s flat, coming to suck the happiness out of his life a second time. He knows it wasn’t just him. It doesn’t matter.
He stumbles into a room that is messy and clearly occupied, before finding a clean empty one on the other side of a small bathroom.
He sets his backpack down on the plain white bed. The room is clean and has a dresser with a mirror above it, and a spacious closet, with one wall completely taken up by tall windows that let in the fading evening sunlight, and looks out over a small private balcony that wraps around this side of the flat. It’s very quiet, other than a few birds outside.
Regulus lets himself take a breath for the first time today. Over fourteen hours ago he snuck out in the early hours of the morning, with nothing but his backpack and the clothes on his back, and a little bit of money for the tube. He went to London. He knows nobody in London.
He made it all of eight hours before he was crying on a park bench and a blonde woman with a small dog took pity on him and asked if there was someone he wanted to call. He could only remember one number.
And that’s how he ended up here. On his eighteenth birthday no less. Happy birthday to him.
He should be grateful. He knows this. But he is a bitter flower, he has never been able to pretend to be something else.
He takes another deep breath, opening one of the windows and relaxing at the soft breeze that comes through the window. It’s warm with the promise of spring.
All he needs is a plan. He’s good at plans. Other than today. Let’s not talk about today. Today cannot be over fast enough.
Step one:
Yes, he’s writing it down in his notebook, leave him alone.
Step one: avoid James Potter.
Step two: avoid that S.O.B
Regulus allows himself a little chuckle.
Step three: convince Barty to get him a job at that little shit coffee shop he works at
Step four: move out as soon as possible
***
“I think I upset him.”
“James, I’m the older brother who abandoned him, not you.” Sirius says his voice rough and uneven.
“He froze the second that he saw me. I think I freaked him out. Am I scary looking?”
James leans in too close to Sirius’ face and Sirius pushes him away with one hand squeezing his cheeks together.
“Yes, you’re terrifying.”
James pouts and seems to be doing some serious soul searching until Sirius laughs.
“Relax James! It’s me, he hates me.” He clears his throat. “Look, let’s just call it a night, yeah?”
“It’s only eight.”
“Well I’m knackered.”
“You little liar, I know you’re sneaking out to see Remus the second you think I’m asleep. You don’t have to sneak, you know. You can walk out of your own apartment like a grown man.”
“Oh shut up you have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m going to bed and that’s it.” Sirius hides a smug smile as he slips around the kitchen island and towards his bedroom which is on the opposite side from James and Regulus’ rooms.
Then he pauses.
Quietly he crosses back and stands outside Regulus’ door. He presses his ear to it and hears nothing.
“Happy Birthday.” He says so quietly that he can barely hear it himself. And then he slinks back to his room with his shoulders caved in.
****
Regulus cries his eyes dry in silence, sitting perfectly still as he watches the sun go down. Then the exhaustion sets in and he must fall asleep because now something is waking him up.
What was it?
It comes again, three knocks at the door.
Regulus glances at himself once in the mirror, decides Sirius has seen him looking worse, and opens the door.
Fleamont Potter is standing there in a white vest and jeans, holding a very messily made birthday cake, complete with a smear of frosting on his cheek.
“Oh, I’m dreaming.” Regulus says, unamused, and goes back into his room, leaving the door open.
Fleamont just stands there looking very confused.
Regulus flops on the bed, still not bothering to move his bag or the covers.
“Well, come in if you want.”
Fleamont walks in cautiously, glancing once at the backpack on the bed and then back at Regulus, with an adorably hopeful look in his eyes.
“Sirius said it was your birthday.”
“Sirius is a liar, I wouldn’t associate with him if I were you.
“Oh, so it’s not your birthday?”
“No it is. Well, maybe it’s not anymore, maybe I’ve slept through it and it’s finally over.”
Something is off about Fleamont but Regulus is too tired to care, he doesn’t want to dream, he wants to sleep like the dead.
“I didn’t know what you liked so I er, made a few options.”
Regulus yawns and stretches like a cat. Fleamont tips his head to the side, almost like he’s admiring him. Regulus is too tired to have a steamy Fleamont dream right now. He wants to sleep. Maybe if he gets the cake plot over with, the dream will end. Or maybe he can wake himself up somehow.
He pinches himself hard. It hurts. His head feels a little bit less foggy. Uh oh.
Fleamont is still staring at him with a very cute bewildered expression, and something else, a slight blush on his cheeks, and his glasses, what? Glasses?
“Why are you wearing glasses?”
“Uh, I need them to see?”
“Shit.”
“It’s not that bad, I kind of like them-”
Regulus sits bolt upright on his bed and catches another glimpse of himself in the mirror. His hair is sticking up wildly and he has red lines on his face from the creases of the duvet.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
James Potter is standing in front of him holding a very real cake that he baked. For Regulus.
“You’re going really pale again. Er, do I, do you-”
“What flavor of cake?”
James smiles brightly and starts babbling. Regulus rubs his eyes.
“One more time?”
“Chocolate, Lemon, Tres Leches, Orange, Vanilla and Cheesecake.”
“That’s an interesting combination.”
“Well, I wasn’t sure what you liked so-”
Regulus stands up and slowly approaches James, peering down at the cake. James doesn’t move an inch, like he thinks Regulus is a bird he could scare off.
Happy Birthday is written in messy green letters across the pink frosted cake.
“Okay, I’ll try it.” Regulus says, not wanting to be rude, even though a chocolate raspberry orange tres leches cheesecake sounds like an abomination of a flavor combination.
“Great! You can come pick your favorite.” James bounds out of the room immediately and Regulus blinks after him.
Maybe he is dreaming after all. He gives one last forlorn look at his bed before cautiously entering the kitchen.
On the kitchen island are six large birthday cakes in a variety of colors, all with the same messy writing on the top.
Regulus stares. Yes, a dream, for sure.
“You made me six birthday cakes?”
“Er, yes.” James tugs on one earlobe. “Sorry?” He says, shrugging a little bit as his face turns just a shade darker.
“You just met me today.”
James just looks confused again.
“Yeah, but you’re Reggie. And it’s your birthday. And everyone deserves a cake on their birthday.”
Regulus and James blink back and forth at each other.
“Well, which one do you want?”
“Yours.”
“What?”
“Er, this one, the pink one.”
James looks down at the cake he’s still holding and then lights up again with that absolutely devastatingly bright smile. Regulus almost makes a noise. He doesn’t though.
Regulus takes it carefully out of James’ hands, making sure not to touch him.
“Goodnight.” he says, immediately making a break for his room.
“Goodnight Reggie! Happy Birthday!”