It was the start of his sixth year at Hogwarts, and the memory of the summer lingered, heavy and oppressive. Regulus should have known and he was furious with himself for not realising sooner. Not that it would have made any difference. He should have known when he got home for the summer holidays, with Bella being sickly sweet, that something terrible was going to happen. She had been fawning over him, praising him and he had preened. He was not a disappointment like Sirius was. 

Sirius always liked to do things the hard way. Perhaps that was better than the path of least resistance Regulus had chosen. He could not think about his brother, the traitor, for very long before he felt overwhelmed with grief. Weak. So he pretended he did not have a brother. It was easier than the memory of him barely conscious on the carpet of the library. Regulus could not set foot in there now.

He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror either. He looked too much like Sirius and too much like his mother, which disgusted him. He had become the perfect son, the perfect heir, moulded by them.

He had to accept. There was no other choice for him. He convinced himself he wanted it, that it would earn his family's pride and that he would be happy to serve.

Now his arm was on fire, and he feared the man who’d done it. He hated all the rest. He hated his mother for wanting this to happen. He hated his father for being a weak man and saying nothing to stop it. He hated Bella for how she threw herself at the Dark Lord. They were all pitiful puppets. He hated Sirius for leaving him behind. He hated himself most of all for not being anybody else.

***

Dumbledore was looking at him with pity, and Regulus thought him a stupid, selfish old man. He had made the commotion on the train with the Mudblood head girl Evans for exactly this reason. He wanted to know what Dumbledore would do when faced with his own failings. Dumbledore had failed Sirius, he let him go back to that house to be tortured. He failed Regulus by not listening to him. And now he would have to look upon the newly appointed Black Heir and see what his inaction had done.

'Your choices sadden me, Mr. Black,' said Dumbledore, eyes moving to Regulus’ left sleeve.

'Choices?' scoffed Regulus, anger simmering beneath the surface of his words. 'What choice have I been given?'

'Everything is a choice, Mr. Black. You would do well to remember that,' sighed the old man. 'However, any further conduct as seen on the train will result in your immediate expulsion from Hogwarts. Am I understood?'

'Yes, sir,' said Regulus through gritted teeth. He would have to write to Mother directly after the feast and explain that the girl he’d taunted had been a Mudblood. He wouldn’t be punished for putting her in her place.

He stormed into the feast, practically vibrating with malice. He knew all eyes were on him, and he even hoped Sirius’ were among them. If he saw, maybe he would… do nothing, most likely. He’d abandoned Regulus so thoroughly there was no point in hoping. He fixed his posture, raised his chin, arranging his features into a mask so he could pretend to be who he was meant to be.

“Show them who you are, Regulus. You’re a Black. Act like it.”

***

All of it was pointless. Regulus didn’t even want to be a ruddy prefect. His mother had been so proud, though, that she rewarded him with a new broom. Quidditch was the only good thing about still being at school, and he was Captain this year. He’d have to say goodbye to that forever come graduation no matter how much he loved it. He wasn’t looking forward to it. He didn’t have much to look forward to anymore. 

Regulus paced around the meeting point. Jones was late. Robert Jones was a lanky Ravenclaw fifth year who Regulus was meant to patrol with ever since McGonagall had the bright idea to switch up the pairs on a rotating basis. It was some inter-house unity rubbish to encourage civility. Regulus would rather patrol with Eva Rosier, his counterpart, even if she was an idiot; at least she was pure-blooded. That would’ve been proper, not like this disgusting co-mingling.

Hurried footsteps approached, and around the corner came a girl, Wendy Clark. A Gryffindor Mudblood in his year. She usually had her hair pulled into a messy pile on top of her head, but it currently fell in frizzy curls down her back as she ran.

'Sorry! Sorry! I forgot I switched with Robbie. He’s helping Profess-' puffed Clark, coming to a dead stop upon realising who was waiting for her. Brown eyes widened in shock. Good, thought Regulus; she should be afraid. Still, it irritated him that she was fearful. Gryffindors were meant to be brave. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder, shifting her feet. 'He said it was just this floor until curfew… is that right?'

Regulus nodded sharply and began walking. Her footsteps followed. She didn’t catch up to him, instead trailing behind him.

'Sorry again,' she said quietly. 'I’m usually really on top of everything, but I was working on that rune translation from last class. Really tricky.' Great. She was a talker. Maybe he could silencio her. Regulus didn’t falter in his steps. 'Have you done it yet?'

'No,' he said without looking at her, instead scanning the corridor.

'Oh well, I’m sure you’ll get it. You always have the right answer.'

He looked at her then. Her face was set in a tight, albeit kind smile. Freckles dusted her skin like constellations. 

He knew what he should say—‘Mind your own business, Mudblood.”—But he couldn’t get the words out.

'I like the subject,' he said flatly instead, continuing to walk.

'Me too! It’s fascinating, don’t you think? I always enjoyed reading and history, and it’s like both. A secret code for us to uncover.' she went on, walking beside him now. He cut his gaze to her.

'For people like me, maybe,' he replied viciously on instinct. The audacity of someone like her speaking to him as if they were equals was unbelievable. Who did this Mudblood think she was? 

She wasn’t anything like him.
An interloper.
An aberration.
Filth, his mother would say.

Her face fell and hardened. She didn’t say anything else as they continued. Regulus kept his eyes ahead. Inside, however, his chest was tight with a gnawing discomfort. The words he’d used, meant to distance and diminish her, seemed hollow. He told himself it was right to push her away, to keep the line drawn, just as he had always been taught. Shame tangled with his pride; part of him wanted to justify his cruelty, but another, quieter part wondered what harm there was in just answering her kindly. Regret seeped in, and he found himself wishing he had not been so harsh, confused by how wrong it felt and how much he wished he could take it back.

They finished their patrol in silence, shooing a couple of third-year Hufflepuffs back to their common room. She was kind to them, while he loomed behind her as they scurried away. He contemplated asking her what she liked to read, but when he looked over at her, she was pointedly not looking at him. Jaw set, her silence was palpable, aimed right at him.

'Black,' she said in parting and strode away without looking back. Regulus hated the feeling of her dismissal.

***

She never looked at him, yet he was noticing her again. After that stupid patrol, she was everywhere. In the Hall, in class, in the library. She smiled a lot, with straight, white teeth, sat with the Gryffindor girls in their year or her Prefect partner Barley, and studied with Lupin’s group. He might have spoken to her in the library if not for Lupin’s presence. She’d been accurate about the rune translation. It had been tricky. He wanted to ask her what her method was. She was praised in class for getting it correct. 

She didn’t look dirty like she was meant to be. Although her hair was a bit unruly, but never unclean as far as he could tell. He noticed she pulled her hair back when she was in class or working, but let it down all other times. It was a rich brown with some honeyed strands that caught the sun, wavy and freeform tumbling curls. Regulus thought the curls suited her quite well. 

She was always, always, reading. If it wasn’t one of their texts, it was a novel of some description propped open at meal times. The more he noticed, the less easily he could dismiss her.

She was sitting with Evans at breakfast this morning. They were leaning together, talking. Her hair shifted over her shoulder as she showed something in her book to the other girl. Potter, accompanied by Sirius and the other two, joined them. Regulus bristled when Sirius made a joke that she laughed at. He felt a twinge of jealousy at how easily Sirius charmed the girls around him. Then, as if sensing the gaze, his brother met his eye. For a brief moment, they looked at each other before Regulus focused on his plate.

***

On his way up to the library, Regulus was shoulder-checked and stumbled.

'Watching me, are you, Reggie? Still reporting back to mummy dearest?' It was Sirius. Regulus shot him with a glare as he straightened his robes.

'Padfoot, leave it,' said Lupin, touching Sirius’ arm from behind.

'He’s not so tough without his mates,' sneered Sirius. 'Are you, little brother?'

'I wasn’t doing anything,' said Regulus. He hated how he sounded like a little boy whenever confronted by Sirius. He tried pushing his shoulders back. Sirius grabbed his arm, and he yanked it back, heart pounding wildly.

'Is it true?' asked Sirius, his eyes wide, almost pleading. Regulus pushed down his urge to tell him the truth, ask for help, anything. Instead, he only stared at his brother, trying not to look affected and shoving his hands in his pockets to stop them shaking.

'Not here. This isn’t the time.' Lupin pulled Sirius away, giving Regulus a pitying look. He hated it. Regulus watched them go, wondering when the time would be, if ever.

He felt so completely and utterly alone. 

Once they disappeared around a corner, everything hit Regulus like a tidal wave. It was no longer anger he could hold onto, only the empty certainty that he was on his own. He couldn’t get air into his lungs. He thought perhaps he could lie down right here and stop trying to breathe. His eyes stung. He had not cried since the night Sirius went away through the library floo to safety. He knew he could not be seen, but the effort of holding himself together was failing.

He stumbled down further and into a passage behind a tapestry. Back against the wall, he slid down and hid his face in his knees. He was trying to be silent, as Sirius had taught him. ‘Mother mustn’t hear you cry, Reggie. She won’t like it.’ The memory caused a sob to claw out of his throat.

Then the air shifted as if someone had pulled back the tapestry.

'Hello? Who’s back here?' It was her. Because of course it was her. 'Oh, are you alright?'

He couldn’t answer her. He only shook, gripping his legs, still hiding his face. He felt her cast privacy charms wordlessly. The impressiveness of that almost distracted him, but only for a moment.

'Regulus.' Her voice was soft. He lifted his head to find her kneeling next to him, looking at him in concern. 'Can you take a deep breath?'

He shook his head, mortified that she was seeing him like this. Weak. He flinched away when she reached out, and she put her palms up.

'Okay, no touching. Just try to breathe in through your nose.' She demonstrated, and he tried to copy her. 'Good, now hold. Good. Now out through your mouth.'

They repeated this for a while, and he was relieved it was working. The tightness in his chest eased slowly with each breath. Her voice remained gentle and calm. He couldn’t figure out why she was being kind to him of all things. He certainly didn’t deserve it. He couldn’t look at her face, instead focusing on a curl of her hair hanging down. He could see each individual strand this close. A few were stuck to her jumper with static. His tears were drying on his cheeks when she stopped guiding him as she pushed up to her feet, and held out a hand to him. He only looked at it.

'Oh, come on. I’m only trying to help you up.' She said, rolling her eyes. He was beyond caring about whether she was dirty or not, so he took her hand. It was small, warm and soft. It seemed normal. Once on his feet, he froze as she fixed his robes for him. His eyes tracked her hands as she brushed the wrinkles out of the fabric. 'There. You may want to wipe your face, though. Do you mind?' She asked this, holding her wand up. He should say he did mind. He shouldn’t let her use any spell on him, but he felt drained, and she hadn’t harmed him thus far, so he shook his head.

Wordlessly, she cast, and he felt a wash of cleansing magic flow over him. It was strange how gentle her magic was. He’d never felt anything like it. His own magic rose to meet it as if curious. She inspected her work and nodded.

'All set. Will you be okay?' she asked, dropping the privacy charms. He nodded, and she turned to leave.

'Clark?' he said without thinking. For some reason, he didn’t want her to go. She paused and looked back at him. He froze, grappling for anything to say. He couldn’t think of anything, so he fell back on what he should do. 'Don’t tell anyone.'

'Wasn’t going to,' she said, frowning. 'You’re welcome, by the way.' Then she was gone.

When he finally emerged into the corridor, it was empty.

***

He waited a few days, but no one teased him about his hidden panic attack. Whenever he saw her she never looked his way. It didn’t make any sense. She could ruin him. Regulus Black, the big crybaby, who sobs in hidden alcoves. But she hadn’t told anyone. At least, no one had spread it around. People still baulked when he walked down corridors.

Sirius had gone back to ignoring him completely. 

He could hear the voices echoing in the Slytherin common room. The lazy taunts and whispered warnings, the easy assurance with which his housemates spoke about blood and boundaries. Barty and Mulciber had a particular game of listing which first-year Muggleborns wouldn’t last the term. Everyone looked to Regulus for approval because of his name, and it felt suffocating now. He wondered if anyone else ever felt the pressure in their chest to belong, or if he was alone in pretending. Slytherin House demanded loyalty to its ideals and to its future, and breaking the pattern meant risking all of it. Before, Regulus had nodded along, offering the same air of disdain he was expected to have. 

But something had shifted within Regulus. He heard her voice whenever he closed his eyes, saying his name gently, with concern. He was sure he was remembering it right. Nothing bad had happened from her touching him either. He remained in control of his magic. 

Weren’t Mudbloods supposed to steal magic?
“Your brother has been drained of his magic. He is lost to us because of the half-breed filth he has allowed to steal from him.”

That was what his mother had always said, and Walburga Black’s voice was burned into him. She had lectured him since childhood that Muggleborns were dangerous, that they only wanted what the Sacred 28 families had. His father had nodded along, echoing the old stories over dinner: tales of squibs and vanished lines, blaming the influx of outsiders. He remembered the little books he was handed as a child, full of warnings and lessons about keeping his distance from 'the wrong sort.' The belief threaded through Slytherin House too, muttered in corners and spat out as fact by those who had never known different. It seemed impossible, almost ridiculous now, with the memory of her warm hand in his.

He was in her debt now. Maybe that was it, some sort of bargaining chip for her to use. To what end? He didn’t know, but he certainly couldn’t leave things as they were.

He asked Kreacher to bring him a book from the family library. An old volume on Merlinic rune translations that wasn’t available in the Hogwarts library. He wrapped it neatly in non-descript brown paper and tucked it into his book bag.

The challenge was finding her alone. He supposed it was his fault that it was so difficult. He, Barty and the rest had been relentless in their torment of anyone impure. But it meant all Mudbloods together, traveling in groups down corridors—safety in numbers. It was almost laughable that they thought that would work.

He took his chance after Ancient Runes on Thursday afternoon. She was still writing as everyone else packed up. He lingered, watching her check over her notes before she collected her papers, tidying up her desk. The Ravenclaw girl she usually sat with was already gone, along with everyone else.

He approached slowly and cleared his throat. She was loosening her hair and shaking it out. She looked surprised by him, tilting her head to the side as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

'This is for you,' he said, placing the package on her desk and stepping back. 'As a thank you, for the other day. And for not saying anything.'

She frowned at the package, but didn’t touch it, and then looked at him.

'You don’t need to bribe me,' she said slowly.

'It’s not a bribe. It’s a book,' he said, trying to maintain his composure. Something about talking to her made his heart race and his breath seem elusive. Her hand moved slowly toward it. 'It won’t bite.'

She finally picked it up and opened the wrappings. He watched her eyes fill with a small wonder. It filled his chest with an unfamiliar feeling.

'I’ve never seen this one before,' she said, flipping the book open.

'No, I doubt you would have. It’s not in the library here. It’s from the Black library,' he said, convincing himself he didn’t care if she was impressed or not.

'Of course you have a library,' she said quietly, still looking at the book. He swore she looked amused. The feeling in his chest swelled. 'I can keep this?'

'That’s generally how gifts work,' he said dryly. Her eyes flicked up to his, and he froze. She was smiling, tight-lipped, but her cheeks had dimples. He thought they were cute. He shouldn’t think that about her. She was a Mudblo- His stomach twisted uncomfortably, He couldn’t even think about her like that anymore.

'Thanks, Regulus.'

'Don’t mention it, Clark.' he said with a sharp nod. Heart pounding and already making his retreat, he left her alone in the classroom.

***

Regulus was reading in his armchair in the Slytherin common room. It was blessedly empty, so he had managed to finish his homework and was now reading a paperback he’d lifted out of Clark's bookbag in the library earlier that day. He’d watched her finish it at breakfast. It was a rambling, train-of-thought story about a Muggle who sets off on a tour of America. It was oddly charming, though he didn’t understand some of the Muggle references. He wondered how he could look them up. Or he could find a way to ask her about it somehow.

The peace was abruptly shattered when Barty returned, with Snape trailing after him, a puppy following its owner.  

'Can’t fucking believe it. That little Mudblood bitch running to McGonagall. Detention? Me?! It was only a stinging hex! I barely even hit them. I’ll fucking get her, I swear!' ranted Barty, sitting heavily on the sofa and swinging his legs up dramatically. Regulus tucked the paperback into his Potions text.

'I’d be careful, Crouch. She’s a prefect,' drawled Snape, hovering by the fireplace.

'Who?' asked Regulus, already bored. It was probably Evans. She was a massive goody two-shoes and always told them off.

'That fucking Clark bint!' snapped Barty. A chill ran through Regulus that had nothing to do with the October evening. He pulled his emotions back, mostly because he didn’t understand them in the moment.

'Calm yourself, Barty. We have to be careful after what happened on the train. Let’s not target any prefects,' said Regulus. That was sensible and believable. Barty groaned.

'Fine. But I’ll get her one of these days. All of them filthy Mudbloods and Blood Traitors will get what’s coming to them!' declared Barty, laughing in his way. Regulus forced himself to join, and Snape laughed too, a beat later.

***

As November drew longer and the air turned colder, Regulus’ dread grew. He didn’t want to be summoned home for the winter break. He’d much prefer to stay at school and enjoy the quiet of a mostly empty castle, where he could keep pretending the rest of it did not matter.

He had taken to wandering the corridors close to Gryffindor Tower, hoping for a glimpse of her, some reassurance that she was safe. He didn’t think too long on it, afraid of what he’d find. 

The last Saturday of November, he was doing just that, walking aimlessly around the seventh floor above the entrance hall when he heard the familiar laughter of Barty. Regulus had left them in the common room, telling them that he had business that didn’t involve them. He wondered what they were up to up here, and caught the tail end of Barty’s taunting.

'…ugly, stupid Mudblood. Now you know your place.' he laughed cruelly, and Regulus heard footsteps coming his direction.

He ducked behind a suit of armour as three people passed. Poking his head out, he saw Barty, Mulciber and Snape. They were laughing, but Snape looked paler than usual. It twisted something inside Regulus, an all too familiar feeling, something reminiscent of the library doors at home.  

Once they were gone, he went quickly in the direction they had come from. Terror seized him when he spotted her.

She was curled up on the floor by a wall, clutching her ribs, trembling. She shrank even smaller as he got closer.

'Wendy,' he breathed, dropping to his knees beside her. He was afraid to touch her, not wanting to hurt her further. She turned her face up, and he saw her lip was bloody and split, her eyes watery. 'You need the hospital wing. Can you stand?'

She shook her head.

'You were with them?' she wheezed. Panic jolted through him.

'No. I didn’t know. I only saw them leaving,' he said quickly. 'What did they do?'

'Kicked,' she coughed raspily. 'I think my ribs are broken.'

Two things warred inside him: his panic over her condition and the fear that caring for her was a betrayal of everything that he was supposed to be. He found that he only wanted to make sure she was okay.

'I’m going to pick you up, okay? I’m sorry if this hurts,' he said with barely contained alarm. She looked at him for a long moment and then nodded weakly.

As gently as he could, he lifted her from under her knees and back. She was small enough that it was barely an effort. He focused on not jostling her too much. Her fingers curled in the front of his robes, and she tucked her head into his shoulder. He was motionless for a moment, breathless at how well she fit there, but she was hurt, so he started to move. He had a singular focus: getting her help.

His path to the hospital wing would take him right by the portrait that led into the Gryffindor dormitories. Hopefully no one was around to see them.

His hopes were dashed when, around the corner, Lupin and his brother emerged from the wall. He couldn’t stop, though, because she was shaking in his arms.

'Wendy?' asked Lupin, eyes widening. They stepped out in front of him. Regulus couldn’t move past.

'What the fuck did you do? Where are you taking her?' growled Sirius, going for his wand. Regulus shifted her protectively out of the line of fire. Lupin held an arm in front of Sirius, obviously seeing that anything aimed at Regulus would surely hit her.

'Nothing. She’s hurt. I’m taking her to the hospital wing.' Regulus told them, a hint of hysteria bleeding into his voice.

'Not bloody likely. Hand her over,' said Sirius, pushing past Lupin to grab her. Her fingers tightened on Regulus’ robes.

'Ribs!' she gasped.

The other boys gaped, sharing a glance with something silent passing between them.

'We’ll come with you,' said Lupin calmly, reaching for Sirius’ hand. Regulus ignored this and kept walking at his hurried pace.

***

Regulus didn’t know how long it had been. Madam Pomfrey had kicked them out almost immediately after Wendy was placed in a bed. It had taken every ounce of willpower to let her go. He was now slumped against the wall outside the Hospital Wing. Sirius was pacing, muttering and Lupin was watching him. Regulus stared at the door, his ears ringing.

'My fault. All my fault,' muttered Sirius. Regulus didn’t know how that could be. He didn’t particularly care. He knew who was responsible.

'It’s not,' said Lupin gently.

'It is!' cried Sirius, throwing his arms out. 'She was going to go upstairs and wait, but I made her take a turn outside. For what? Decorations? Someone should have gone with her!'

'Decorations?' repeated a baffled Regulus. Sirius rounded on him then. Fury etched in every line of his face.

'It’s her fucking birthday!' shouted Sirius, his voice bouncing around the empty corridor. Lupin went to calm him. Regulus’ heart sank like a stone. The anger, the guilt, and the sudden cruelty of it all settled on him at once.

He stumbled away into the nearby bathroom and threw up into the sink. It helped, but he still felt wretched.

He breathed the way she’d shown him to calm down, and then he called for Kreacher.

***

Sirius was gone when Regulus returned. Lupin was beside her bed, holding her hand. Her face had been healed, and she was propped up on the pillows. She looked smaller than normal and pale. Regulus had to remember to breathe. Lupin stepped back when he saw Regulus approaching. Regulus adjusted the flowers and chocolates in his arms and stopped short of the bed. Lupin gave him an assessing look.

'It’s alright, Remus, it wasn’t him. He helped me,' she said, releasing Lupin's hand and patting it. 'I’d like a word with him in private if you don’t mind.'

Lupin breathed out through his nose, looked down at her and then stepped away, focusing back on Regulus.

'Best be quick. The others will be coming down soon. She’s got to stay overnight,' said Lupin, heading for the door. 'I’ll hold them off a bit.'

Regulus nodded to him and refocused on her. He realised he hadn’t thought of what to say.

'Happy Birthday,' he said, holding out the gifts to her. She took them, fingers brushing the flowers. 'I’m sorry for what they did. You didn’t deserve it.' He conjured a vase on the side table for the flowers and took them from her to place them there.

'Didn’t I? Don’t all Mudbloods deserve it?' she said bitterly, picking at the box he’d made Kreacher retrieve.

'Don’t call yourself that,' he said in a sharp whisper.

'It’s what I am, isn’t it? To you at least. A dirty, ugly Muggleborn who shouldn’t be here,' she said, turning her hard eyes to his; hurt flickering behind them.

'You’re the furthest thing from ugly,' he rushed out, stepping closer to the bed. 'I know I implied that you don’t belong here on our rounds, but lately I've had a change of heart.'

He was surprised by his own honesty, and apparently so was she. Her eyes searched him like she was trying to figure him out. He realised he wanted desperately for her to believe him.

'Why?' she asked.

'Because you were kind, even after all of the horrible things I’ve said to you. Also, you don’t fit what I’ve been told, and that only makes sense if none of it is true,' he said without thinking. Saying it out loud was like seeing clearly.

'None of what?' she asked with genuine curiosity. She didn’t even know why she was meant to be hated. It felt silly even to tell her.

'That muggleborns steal magic. That they take the rightful places of us, et cetera,' he replied and was met with an incredulous face.

'That’s ridiculous!' she snorted. He relaxed slightly. She was right. It was ridiculous.

'Yes. It is,' he said, glancing over his shoulder. 'I’d better go.'

'Thank you for helping me. I guess that makes us even,' she said softly. 'I didn’t tell him about finding you upset, you know. Sirius? I assume it was to do with him.'

'I think that means I still owe you,' said Regulus, trying and failing not to smile.

'I suppose it does.'

***

Son,

I was pleased with recent reports. You are doing well.

We will be very busy over the winter holidays. Your father and I will not be at home very much.

Feel free to remain at school or visit with your friend Crouch.

As ever, remember our family motto.

Mother

***

Relief flooded him. He was not required at home. He did not mention this to Barty. By now he’d heard every detail of their attack on her: the hex used, how many times she was kicked. He retaliated by shrinking Barty’s left shoe a centimetre every day until he could no longer put it on. Barty blamed the house-elves, but Regulus did it again when the shoe was replaced. Soon, the complaints about his footwear overrode the constant gloating.

Then the break arrived. He was the only one left in the Slytherin dormitory, and it was peaceful without all the plotting and manoeuvring. He was thrilled to learn that she had stayed too. His brother and Lupin remained as well, though they didn’t utilise the library, like she did.

The library had only the two of them as occupants every day. He began sitting with her. They studied in silence, occasionally comparing notes. Her work was meticulous and widely read. As the days went on, he grew curiously impressed with her. He was confident she wore perfume. He smelled of wildflowers and fruit, and he basked in it as they sat next to each other.

By the third day, he summoned up the courage to offer to walk her back to the Tower after Pince shooed them out. He was delighted when she accepted.

'Why’d you stay?' she asked as they reached the third floor. 'Don’t you have to be home for the breaks? Sirius used to always whinge about it.'

'I wasn’t required. I could have stayed with Barty, but I’m sure you can understand why I wasn’t keen on that idea,' he said wryly. 'What about you?'

'Oh, my family is abroad,' she said vaguely and didn’t elaborate. 'Was it you?'

'Pardon?' he asked, blinking at her.

'Crouch's shoes,' she asked, lips twitching. 'Laura told me he’s been complaining loudly about it in their Creatures class.'

'Oh, that. Yes. I thought he should suffer a bit,' he confirmed seriously.

She burst out laughing. He smiled. The sound of it made him feel at ease. He had never been witty or smooth like Sirius, certainly not around girls. Her laughter now filled him with an unfamiliar sense of confidence. He found himself wanting to hear the sound again. It was beautiful.

'That’s diabolical! I bet he thinks he’s losing his mind!'

'I’m doing it until I’m satisfied,' he said, fighting laughter. They laughed together as they went on, and he felt lighter than he could ever remember.

Outside the portrait of the opera singer, she paused and took a deep breath.

'Everything alright?' he inquired, unsure what was wrong.

'Yeah, only yesterday they’d completely rearranged the common room. It was chaos. There were cushions stuck to the ceiling,' she said, shaking with suppressed laughter, and the tension broke.

'That sounds like Sirius,' he said, smiling.

'A menace your brother is,' she said. 'Same time tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow.'

***

Everything about Wendy made Regulus feel warm. She was easy to be around, never pried or pushed him to talk about himself, debated rune translations with him, and laughed at his jokes. When he’d sheepishly returned her paperback, she’d only laughed and told him to ask next time.

He learned she had an older brother, Peter, who was at a Muggle university in London. Their names came from a book that was their mother's favourite. Regulus told her he’d like to read it, and she talked about her brother as if he were her favourite person in the world, her voice warm with affection every time she mentioned him.

Regulus imagined what it must be like to have someone speak about you like that. His chest ached, thinking of Sirius. When they were young, he’d clung to his brother’s every word, eager for attention, desperate for approval. Now, everything between them was damaged, and he could not recall the last time he heard love in Sirius' voice. 

He wondered what it would feel like to know, unconditionally, that you were your sibling’s favourite person. For a moment, he let himself believe Peter must walk through the world buoyed by that certainty. How different things might have been if he and Sirius had grown up with gentler hearts around them. He wondered what it must feel like for Peter: to be loved openly, wholeheartedly, with no complications, no shame.

She told him about never fitting in at Muggle school, “being weird.” He could understand that, he realised, feeling out of place. Her first bit of accidental magic was vanishing the hair off a girl who was making fun of her. He felt guilty when she described how excited she was to learn she was a witch and finally meet people like her. Since he’d never given much thought to what it would be like to grow up without magic, he asked her as many questions about it as he could.

Her family lived in a village near Southampton, and she told him about catching the train to Brighton to go to the beach, one of her favourite summer activities. She described salty fish and chips and ice cream melting on hands. It all seemed nice and pleasant, uncomplicated. He couldn’t imagine looking forward to hearing from his family the way she looked forward to hearing from hers. 

Her father was a dock worker, which Regulus learned meant working with big boats and containers that moved goods around the world. It was strange learning how inventive Muggles had to be without magic, so vastly different from what he had been taught about them before.

It struck him suddenly in bed the night before Christmas Eve that none of it was true. Muggles weren’t stumbling through the world like animals. They were living, loving, and making things without magic. They were people, just like Wendy. 

A jolt of clarity shot through him, then guilt twisted in his chest. 

How many years had he accepted his family's stories, only to repeat them with scorn? Confusion tangled with these feelings. Did this make him a traitor? Could he forgive himself for how easily he had believed the lies? 

He pressed his face into the pillow, mind churning, wishing he could sink away from the weight of it all. Wishing he’d listened to Sirius more. It was as if something heavy inside him was shifting, the solid certainty of his upbringing sliding out from under him.

***

Regulus woke on Christmas morning to many presents. His parents gave him far more than last year, but he didn’t want any of it. The gifts felt tainted by what they had made him into., 

Toward the back of the pile, he saw a small package from her. He opened that first. It was a copy of Peter Pan, the book she had said her name was from.

It was a children's book, he realised when he started it, and he finished it before lunch. He couldn’t wait to talk about it with her.

He had bought her a necklace, carefully selecting a silver chain with a starburst pendant and a stone at its heart. He hoped she’d enjoy it.

It was a dangerous thing, gifting something like that to a Muggleborn. Still, he found he didn’t care. He was glad it would be like the star that Peter flew Wendy and her brothers to in the book, or a star like his namesake.

At Christmas dinner in the Great Hall that night, he was delirious when he saw her wearing it. He had to stop himself from going straight to her. She was sitting with Lupin and Sirius, so it was better that he sat at the opposite end of the table, with the two Ravenclaws and a singular Hufflepuff that had stayed between them, stealing glances at her smiling face.

***

'Regulus!' she called, hurrying down the stairs behind him. He was one of the first to leave dinner and she had followed him out. He stopped at the bottom and waited. She was rosy-cheeked from the cold, wearing a knitted snowflake jumper over a skirt and tights, a silly paper hat, hair hanging down her back, and the necklace glinting in the dim dungeon light. 'I wanted to say thank you for my gift and Happy Christmas in person.'

'Happy Christmas,' he rasped, feeling very nervous for some reason. He clasped his hands behind his back, trying to steady himself. 'I liked the book.'

He cringed at his own awkwardness. Her face broke into a smile, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe.

'You read it already?' she asked, still smiling. He nodded, gripping his hands tighter.

'I like the adventure, but I don’t think I would have ever missed my parents. I’d have stayed in Neverland,' he told her earnestly. Her smile faltered. He searched for something else to make her smile again, but before he could think of anything, she threw her arms around him. He stiffened for a beat before returning the embrace. She smelled of cinnamon and was warm, delicate in his arms. He turned his face into her hair to hide the emotion swelling dangerously inside him.

'Then I would have stayed too,' she said softly. 'I’m sorry that you feel that way. You shouldn’t be alone.' It was profound, this feeling: her. She didn’t want anything from him. She never asked, but somehow she understood. Maybe Sirius had explained it all. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe their scars weren’t as hidden as he thought. He wrapped his arms tighter, never wanting to let go.

He’d never held anyone like this before, especially not a girl. When he was young, he’d crawl into Sirius’ bed, and his brother would soothe him, but this was different. He’d snogged a few girls during parties in the Slytherin common room. Eva Rosier had even rubbed the front of his trousers last year, but he didn’t want it. Not like this. Would Wendy kiss him? Was that even allowed? The thought of it, along with the feel of her, stirred something low in his belly. He needed to pull away before she noticed.

When he did, their noses brushed. She didn’t pull away. Her gaze moved from his to his lips and back. His heart pounded. It didn’t feel wrong, as it was supposed to be with someone like her. He wanted to do it, urgently, but he didn’t want to scare her off.

He forced himself to loosen his grip so she could get away if she wanted to. Carefully, considered, he dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers in question. Her hand cupped the back of his neck, and she pressed her lips to his. It was like getting hit in the stomach by a cheering charm. Her lips were pillowy soft, sweet and delicious. He lost himself in the feel of them moving against his own. One of his hands moved into her hair of its own volition. It was also soft and silky like every other part of her.

He was pulling her closer, tilting her head to kiss her better and cupping her cheek, brushing his thumb over it. The paper hat slipped from her head and fluttered to the ground. They broke apart, breathless and smiling.

His head was spinning. She was so close that he could see each of her freckles, and the closeness made everything suddenly feel unreal.

'You’re so pretty,' he whispered, feeling slightly panicked that he couldn't form more descriptive words for how wonderful she was. The red in her cheeks deepened as his smile widened. Flustered, they drew apart.

'See you tomorrow?' she asked, retrieving the paper hat.

'Yes. Tomorrow,' he said, reluctant for the moment to end.

'Happy Christmas again,' she said, hands crinkling the paper.

'Best Christmas ever,' he said without thinking, and she laughed, not mockingly, but with joy.

'I agree,' she said, pushing up to kiss his cheek. 'Good night, Regulus.'

'Good night, Wendy,' he said, lower than before. He pressed his fingers to his cheek once she turned away. He watched her climb the stairs, hair swaying, until she was out of sight.

***

It was like a door had been kicked open. Because of her, the world seemed full of possibilities. He forgot the letters from his parents and the Dark Lord after he penned pages of lies about his holiday activities.

The remainder of the break was blissful and all too short. Every day, they met in the library, where he was greeted with a smile and a hug. They took breaks to walk around the deserted castle. He’d kiss her in empty classrooms and drop her off at her common room each evening.

He told her things he’d never told anyone, not even Sirius. His family thought his magic had come in late. He’d heard his mother whispering about it to his father once when he was seven. They thought he might be a stain on the family. But it wasn’t true. He told her about how he would make his toys float around his room at night, and that he’d kept the secret just for himself.

He told her he wanted to play Quidditch, but his family had other plans for him. She didn’t like that, he could tell, but she never made him feel judged for it.

As the break neared its end, he clung to their moments together as if she was the air keeping him from drowning. The afternoon before everyone would return, she was quiet, and he could feel the distance between them growing. It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t have something so pure and good for himself. He was terrified she would disappear. 

Soon, the halls would be filled with watchful eyes again, and old animosities would come creeping back in. He was certain Barty would notice any change in his behaviour, and if word got out about him and Wendy, the consequences would be catastrophic, placing both of them in great danger. The safety of empty corridors and secret meetings would be gone, replaced by suspicion and the threat of exposure. Every stolen glance or word could spark suspicion, and he wondered if he would be strong enough to protect what they had once the others returned.

He’d stopped reading minutes ago in favour of watching her. She turned a page, took a note, then glanced at him before sighing and closing her book.

'What happens when everyone is back?' Her question was blunt, something Regulus wasn’t expecting. In his world so far, everyone skirted around hard issues, deflecting and never facing things directly.

'I won’t let them hurt you again.' It was all he could think of to say. He had a plan for that. He was going to tell Barty he’d threatened her to keep quiet about what they had done and tell his friend to stay away from her.

'I don’t mean that. I mean about this,' she said, gesturing between them with her quill. 'Are you going to go back to being like you were before?'

He knew what she meant. The horrible Death Eater persona that he had to embody. 

'I have to be that way. It’s dangerous if I’m not. For me, and for you,' he said, pleading with her to understand. Her brow crinkled, and he braced for her rejection. For her to walk away. That would be the smart thing for her to do.

'So we’d have to pretend nothing has changed? I act afraid of you, and you act like a total dickhead?' she said finally, fighting a smile. Then her expression sobered, her eyes searching his face. 'You know, Regulus, if we're going to do this, I want to understand exactly what it means for me.
‘I don't want to be your secret if it means I'm just something to be ashamed of. I know how dangerous this is. If you want me to go along with pretending, I need to hear that it's because you want to protect both of us, not just out of fear for what others will think.' He stared at her in shock, the depth of her words catching him off guard. 'Unless you’d rather not?'

She bit her lip, looking unsure. Instead of answering, he lunged for her, clasping his hands over her rosy cheeks and kissed her. She smiled into the kiss and pushed him off her.

'We’re in the library!' she hissed and looked over her shoulder. Pince was thankfully nowhere to be seen.

'If things were different, I’d walk the halls holding your hand. But it’s not safe. I need you to know that no matter what I do or say this,' he said, leaning his forehead on hers. 'is how I really feel.'

***

When term resumed, Regulus was miserable most of the time. His constant act was wearing him thin. Barty was somehow worse after the break. He was eager to join the ranks alongside Regulus and talked of little else. Regulus felt like an imposter, with the exception of when he was playing Quidditch or in his stolen moments with Wendy. She had the brilliant idea of swapping so they could have more patrols together and pass them off as him threatening her. He felt sick when he bragged to Barty and the rest about how scared she was of him and how weak Mudbloods were. But it meant they could safely be alone. He soaked her up while he could and fantasised about it the rest of the time. Sneaking around with her and balancing his family’s expectations meant the term flew by.

When Easter break arrived, he had to return home for a meeting. The night before leaving, they had a patrol together and he poured all of his worries into kissing her. He was trying to memorise every detail of her in case he didn’t return. They were near the base of the Astronomy Tower by the tapestry of trolls doing ballet. There was scuffling nearby, and they both panicked. Fixing themselves and trying to appear as if they weren’t doing anything but patrolling, they searched for the source of the noise but found nothing. It niggled in the back of his mind well after he dropped her near her common room.

***

At home, his mother tested his mental barriers. Bellatrix had been teaching him how to fight the invasion into his mind, deeming it necessary around the Dark Lord. He never managed to get a straight answer about why, assuming that his family still wanted to keep their long-held secrets even from the wizard they had sworn to follow. Still, he was glad for the training. Wendy was locked deep within his mind, in a hidden box beneath a specific tile of a well-organised chess game, where he kept things that were fine for others to see in the pieces.

Then he had to meet with his master. He loathed being beholden to this man he’d only met a handful of times because his family expected it of him. Still, there had been no reason to be anxious. The Dark Lord only wanted to know Regulus’ opinion on Barty’s suitability to join them. He dutifully held back his laughter and confirmed that Barty was exactly the kind of wizard he was looking for. When his mind was invaded, he pushed forward memories of Barty, his cruelty and steadfast belief in blood supremacy. Voldemort's dark eyes glittered with vicious interest.

After Regulus was dismissed, his mother praised him, but it no longer gave him the satisfaction it once had. With that meeting behind him, he was relieved to return to school.

***

In the first week of May, Regulus was unceremoniously shoved into an empty classroom by Sirius, followed by an unnervingly calm Lupin, who locked the door and cast privacy charms.

Regulus had been on his way to meet Wendy, as she had passed him a note in Runes telling him she had something to show him. Annoyed by being waylaid, he levelled a glare at Sirius.

'What do you want?' Regulus spat.

'To know if mummy knows about you kissing Muggleborns,' Sirius taunted. Lupin rolled his eyes exasperatedly. Regulus felt a surge of panic but maintained his glare.

'I have no idea what you’re talking about,' he growled.

'Don’t deny it. We fucking saw you! Before Easter break, up near the Astronomy Tower!' Sirius shouted. Lupin confirmed it with a nod, still silently assessing him. Regulus’ stomach dropped. He hated that Lupin always saw more than everyone else.

'It’s none of your business,' Regulus said weakly.

'If people found out about this, if Mother found out. You know what she’d do, Reggie!' Sirius cried, running a hand through his hair.

'Then don’t say anything.' Regulus made for the door, taking out his wand to let himself out. Sirius stopped him with a hand on his arm.

'What about her, Reg? They’ll kill her. You know what she is to them.' Sirius said more softly. Regulus pulled his arm away.

'I’ll protect her,' he said curtly.

'How are you going to do that with that thing on your arm?' Sirius said, blocking the door.

'I’m working on it,' Regulus said through his teeth.

'Hear that, Moony? He’s working on it,' Sirius said mockingly. Regulus had had quite enough. 'And what exactly is it that you want, Reg? Because you can’t have it both ways.'

'I want to be with her! All of it is wrong! Everything they told us. I knew the moment she touched my hand it was all a lie!' Regulus burst out furiously. He wanted nothing more than to leave the room and go to meet her. Sirius stepped back, bumping into the door, at his outburst. 'I’m going to find a way to get rid of it and take her somewhere safe! I didn’t even want it in the first place. It was meant to be you!'

Regulus pointed a furious, accusing finger at his brother. The tension in the room crackled in the air. Sirius was struck dumb, staring at Regulus as if he was truly seeing him for the first time. Regulus wanted to leave.

'Let us help you,' said Lupin, finally breaking his silence. Regulus looked between the two of them in disbelief.

'If you want out, Reggie, let us help. Please,' Sirius said, voice cracking, with wide, pleading eyes.

'Why would I trust you? You left me!' Regulus shouted. He was too angry to feel ashamed of his childish hurt. Sirius at least had the decency to look guilty. Lupin stepped closer.

'You can trust that we don’t want any harm to come to Wendy,' Lupin said placatingly.

'How exactly do you think you’re going to help me?' Regulus said viciously.

'Can you show it to us? Explain how it works,' Lupin said, holding his palm out. Regulus felt he wouldn’t be able to leave unless he agreed, so he pushed his sleeve up and held his arm out. Sirius paled and made a soft, pained noise. The mark was raised, surrounded by inflamed skin. Lupin studied it with a critical eye. 'This was done in the summer?'

'Yes. No matter what remedy I try, it stays this way,' Regulus ground out.

'Does it hurt?' Sirius asked quietly, still pale. Regulus couldn’t look at him. The chasm between them seemed to shrink at the genuine concern in his brother's voice, and he decided to be honest because he desperately wanted to believe Sirius cared.

'Since the moment it happened,' Regulus said miserably.

'What else do you know about it?' asked Lupin clinically, still inspecting Regulus’ arm.

'It’s for summoning us. It burns sometimes. Less for me, I think, because he knows I can’t leave school to meet them all. I can also call for him if I need to. Not like I would.' Regulus said, shame creeping up his spine.

'Do you remember the incantation?' Lupin said, eyes flicking up for a moment.

'No. He did it non-verbally. But I think it’s a variation of a protean charm. I’ve done some research, but I think it’s his own invention,' Regulus said. He held up his wand and cast a charm he’d managed to figure out that didn’t cause the mark to activate. A twist of runes sprang up, glowing, from his arm. Lupin’s brows went up, and he took out a notebook to write them down. Once Lupin was done writing, Regulus dropped the spell and shoved his sleeve down. 'Can I go now? Wendy is waiting for me, and I’d rather she wasn’t alone.'

'We’ll figure this out, Reg,' Sirius said, stepping aside.

'Forgive me if I don’t hold my breath,' Regulus said venomously, unable to resist one last barb thrown at his brother.

As Regulus left, he cast one last dark glance over his shoulder. Sirius was burying his face in Lupin’s shoulder, a broad, scarred hand on his back. Regulus expected to feel the disgust he usually did, but when it didn’t come, he was unsettled. He hurried away.

***

In the corridor that led to the Astronomy tower, Wendy was waiting, leaning against the wall across from the troll tapestry. Regulus had barely seen Wendy since returning to school because she had been studying more for their exams. Seeing her now was the first real breath he’d taken all month, and he went straight to her, roughly pulling her to him. She hugged him back.

'Hey,' she said softly in his ear. 'Once I show you what I brought you here for, you’re going to tell me what this is about.'

'It’s nothing,' Regulus mumbled into her hair. 'I just missed you.'

'Sure,' she said, pulling away. 'But you have to see this.'

He watched her in bafflement as she walked a few paces away. He reached for her, but she dodged him, swivelled, and paced back.

'So when you were gone, I came up here because it’s the last place we were…' She paused, biting her lip.

'I remember,' he said huskily. He felt an immense satisfaction that she had missed him enough to return to the place of their last meeting.

'Yes, and I was thinking about how we can never really be alone, and then…' she said, turning back and pointing to the previously blank wall. Now a door stood there. Regulus blinked. She grinned at him and opened the door. Inside was a cosy sitting room with squashy sofas and a crackling fire. He followed her in as she took in the space. The door closed behind them and melted into the wall. 'I found a reference to it in Hogwarts: A History. It’s called the Room of Requirement or-'

'The come-and-go room,' he said, staring at her in wonder.

'It took me a few tries to get it to work again, but I’m certain it’s three passes by the wall, focusing on what you want. What do you think?' she said, turning to face him.

'What do I think?' he said, pulling her to him to kiss her. She came willingly, wrapping her arms around his neck. 'You’re bloody brilliant,' he said against her lips.

Regulus was overjoyed. They finally had a place that was only theirs. That night, they curled up together on one of the sofas. He relished running his finger through her silken hair. He told her about what had happened with Sirius and Lupin, but he soon forgot the rest as she kissed him and he slipped his hand along her thigh, under her skirt.

***

All Regulus felt as the term neared its end was trepidation about his upcoming summer. Exams were upon them, and the only thing that got him through were his secret study sessions in the hidden room with Wendy. They usually ended with her in his lap and his hands all over her. Obsession was too tame a word for how much he thought about her. But he knew it was his way of trying to ignore what would be expected of him back home.

He realised Wendy hadn’t initially trusted him very much at all. She was smart to have been cautious. It only made him feel more affection for her. Over the past few weeks, she had shared more about her life in the Muggle world. Her parents were both recently retired to a seaside town in Spain, and her brother spent his holidays there with them or gallivanting around Europe with his University friends. Regulus was both relieved and sad when she shared that she would spend her summer over there with them. It was certainly safer, but further away from him.

'If you need me to stay, I can stay at home. They won’t mind,' she told him one night with her head on his chest. His grip tightened on her.

'No. You should go. I’ll do everything I can to come back for next year,' he said, kissing her hair.

'What if you can’t?' she asked, voice smaller than he liked. He tilted her face up to his.

'I’ll figure it out. Nothing could keep me away from you.'

***

He shouldn’t have been surprised that Sirius had forgotten about him yet again. After all, he and his stupid friends had levitated everything from the Slytherin dormitories over the Black Lake as their final absurd prank. Luckily, Wendy had warned him, since she was helping with the spell to do it, so he was able to save anything he didn’t want to lose beforehand. Even he could admit that Snape’s fury over the whole thing was amusing. He watched his brother laugh harder than he’d ever seen before. Still, Sirius had not even looked his way in weeks, so he would have to figure everything out on his own.

***

The train home was like a slow descent into cold darkness for Regulus. The night before, he had kept Wendy in their Room with him well past when they should have left, trying to commit every detail of her to his mind. He was forced to spend the entire journey home listening to Barty’s excitement over finally meeting Voldemort this summer. He held back his comments about how Barty would be better off running the hell away.

Walburga Black was waiting on the platform for Regulus like a spectre of death. Reminiscent of a Dementor in her severe black robes.

He heard someone calling Wendy’s name and chanced a glance as he trailed behind his mother. It was a tall, tan, smiling man with the same brown hair as her. He had the look about him of a Muggle, and based on his attire, a very cool one at that. It reminded him of the way Sirius liked to dress as a Muggle but with a slightly more refined and relaxed style. 

Wendy ran across the platform and hugged her brother. The man spun her around, laughing and Regulus felt unbearably envious that it wasn't him.

Pushing down his urge to join them, he followed his mother into the station floo and returned to Grimmauld Place.

***