#I drew this while watching the sw holiday special for the first time

[im-yotsu]

Besties <3

[anemonenemerosa]

The Spare Chapter 8

Hello fellow people,

the next one.

At first thank you all for reading and supporting me! It really means a lot!

Secondly: this chapter gets dark. So please stay safe. TW for metntal struggles, self-harm and alcohol abuse.

The SW-verse belongs to the lovely @lumosinlove​ and the HP characters to JKR.

Chapter 8

Regulus had always prided himself with his poker face. He could fool anyone… except his mother. She knew he was sitting on something huge and kept pestering him as soon he stepped into the dining room. Despite his mother’s elaborate and well-practiced interrogation methods, he kept his mouth shut. I know your methods, mother but this time I won't give in.

On the other hand, Walburga knew Regulus, too. She knew exactly how to push his buttons but before he could crack, the interview went online and wreaked havoc over the house. It was bad but luckily, in a twisted sense, also bad enough so his mother would suspect this to be his secret, not his brother’s sexuality. For now, he was off this particular hook and had time to bury his secret too deep for anybody to find.

Sirius texted after leaving this morning "Regulus, rappelle moi s'il te plait." Please call me back.

Regulus couldn't. Firstly, he was sure that Sirius hated him now. And justified as it was, he couldn’t hear the prove of it in his brother’s voice. Secondly, the explosion of Walburga and Orion’s wrath, that Regulus fell victim to, left him with the very first black eye his father ever gave him and the promise of his mother to never leave him unsupervised again.

 Now, Sirius has to share this special category of their mother with me...

Every of his steps would be watched now, every word he wanted to say conformed to her liking first. Besides, even if he was brave enough to call, his phone was still spied. Due to his new status, he was watched too closely sneak out and get himself a secret one. Also, Sirius had his people to care and comfort him. He did not need him.

I should have seen it coming, shouldn't I? Once again, Regulus chided himself for keeping his head too deep inside his own ass.

He was aware, that the interview most likely hurt his brother deeply and how remorseful Regulus felt about that now, it was the intention. He also expected his parent’s disapproval, to put it in mild words, but what he forgot to consider was the reaction of the media and public. His brother was beloved and not known for the unfair game Regulus accused him of. While the hurting part probably worked out, the Snakes, but especially Regulus, were caught in the crossfire from angry fans. The whole commotion was, of course, dutifully covered by the media, which circled the progress of events like vultures. Besides the shitstorm he evoked, Regulus really didn't expect the Death Eaters to turn their backs on him immediately. It was their idea after all.

So, the public was ripping him apart and his mother only called to check on his behaviour. Why, he did not know, given that was basically grounded. His father was too disappointed to talk to him at all and the Death Eaters resumed being indifferent towards the rookie while the second and third rank of the team gloated on his downfall. If he needed to get somewhere, Narcissa or Bellatrix kept at his side. NHL-salary was rather generous and they didn't have to work, so the women were free to accompany Regulus to everything outside practice and games, except the bathroom. Narcissa was annoyed and bored by babysitting-duty but Bellatrix seemed to enjoy tormenting Regulus.

Too cruel for her level of madness, this one.

He began wishing to talk to his brother even he would receive a lot of shit for messing up.

"Regulus, rappelle moi s'il te plait." Please call me back. Regulus wanted. But he couldn't.

His blissful mornings of light fiction reading didn't bring him peace anymore. His focus outright refused to stay on the books. His family, the Snakes and the interview with its consequences were all over his mind, suffocating everything else. Regulus stopped talking to people. Not that he was talkative to begin with. All the people mingling with his brain in his past couldn't erase his introverted nature. But his ingrained wariness towards others developed into something resembling paranoia.

The longer he thought about how he had let himself be used by the Death Eaters for their nasty operations, the worse it got. Not for the first time, but stronger than ever, Regulus felt not just reluctance but downright refusal to take part in any of this. The spiteful antics of his family and the Snakes were complicated, exhausting and plainly atrocious.

The stupor he seemed to have been all this time ashamed him... he understood Sirius a little better now and he would really like to talk about all of this. But there was no one trustworthy around, not even Mrs. Kreacher would keep quiet if her mother urged her to speak. Slughorn, the team’s psychologist wouldn't keep shut either if Riddle decided he wanted to know what was going on. Medical confidentiality was a mere suggestion, when it came to Riddle.

                                                    -oOo-

Christmas drew closer and with it came all the things Regulus deeply despised: Cheesy music and decorations, ridiculous sweaters, forced cheerfulness, glitter and lots and lots of people. People in every place, at every time; there was just no escape.

This gets worse every year, Regulus had trouble to stifle his grumbling while he shuffled through the overcrowded mall Narcissa had dragged him into for Christmas shopping.

 Where do all these people stay the rest of the year? Is there a special place they are kept just to be unleashed come December? What is even the use of all that cheap nonsense people throw at each other under the glorified piece of vegetation?

Disgruntled as he was, he had to admit that this hell, specifically designed for him, kept him a little distracted from the upheaval in his brain. Fans and media got bored by Regulus lack of response to the interview and stopped caring somewhere along the increasing lunacy that was the Holiday season.

At least they leave the tea in peace. Regulus eyed the menu in front of him with narrow eyes. Is there even a coffee-like beverage left that is not a sugary winter-themed concoction? Wasn't the pumpkin-spice thing enough? Narcissa needed a break and a "coffee", so they stood in the line of whatever type of coffee-shop chain while Regulus' arms were hung with heaps of shopping bags, contemplating to dig himself a grave in his mother’s garden instead.

                                                   -oOo-

The call for All Star with Severus boosted his mood for a while. Rookies rarely got the opportunity to participate and he knew he earned it. He was good enough. But of course, the last rookie to make it to Allstar was Sirius, who else, so again it was nothing worth mentioning at home, barely acceptable. But apparently, it was sufficient to placate his parents back to speaking terms.

The Snakes Christmas-party was just as awful as Regulus had anticipated. He was just informed that Sirius would stay in Gryffindor over the holidays. Not that he could blame him but it stung a little. He just really hoped to be able to finally talk to him but couldn't call on an unmonitored phone as his cousins' watch on him did not subside. He wished he could've stayed at home but it was made clear that his was definitely not an option. Regulus dislikes parties any given day. Disliked polite but meaningless small talk, having to feed on tiny bits of food while standing around and wearing evening attire. The prospect of this party, Regulus didn't dislike. This one, he dreaded. Since Thanksgiving and its aftermath, he distrusted most of the Snakes and avoided any contact outside of practice and while he was talking again to his parents, the trust was gone.

"No ifs ands or buts about it! You go!" Narcissa all but dragged him to the Lestrange Estate, where the party took place.

Orion and Walburga were there, too but mingling around with some important and influential people. Probably collecting more information for their pathetic little feuds. As much as he liked sitting in a theatre balcony like Statler and Waldorf from the Muppet Show, taking the piss out of people, this was getting too far to be considered amusing. Also, there was a reason why Statler and Waldorf were a duo.  While never given the opportunity, Regulus suspected that taking the piss off people was more fun together.

The evening went on and the absurd blend of silly games and subtle interrogation subsided into pathetic cockalorum, open hostility and unpleasant jokes as everyone except him got drunker by the minute.

Crabbe and Goyle were the first to succumb into adolescence, reshaping the Christmas pudding into a rather unbalanced pair of -Breasts? Buttocks? A lone scrotum? - while giggling uncontrollably. The same fate awaited about half of the food as the evening went on. The dubious card-game Yaxley and Mulciber were invested with two nameless guys of the third line seemed to change rules by the minute. It came to a sudden halt as Yaxley jumped from his seat and stormed over to Nott, accusing him of flirting with his wife and throwing a badly aimed punch that send a high-priced vase flying instead of crashing into Notts nose. Yaxley’s "wife" was de facto Carrow’s sister while Yaxley’s actual wife was tucked in a different corner, passionately snogging Rabastan Lestrange, Rodolphus' younger brother.

Amidst that ruckus, Dolohov threw up into the glogg bowl.

Regulus leaned against the kitchen counter, decidedly far away from the commotion and stared in disbelief. People... He gave an exasperated huff and allowed himself an actual eyeroll, not just a mental one.

The Death Eaters kept up a bit more dignity. They exclusively stayed in their group, sipping what looked like more expensive booze. Orion was immersed in a conversation with Riddle, Umbridge, Karkaroff and... one of the NHL governors -Fudge? -. Regulus eyebrows went up. Interesting. But no, he would not snoop. He was done with this shit. Much to Regulus´, and judging by his father’s looks, also Orion’s surprise, Narcissa, Bellatrix and his mother showed a lot self-restrain. They mingled with a flock of other hockey wives and it took uncharacteristically long for them -Crabbe, Nott and Mulciber were already passed out, Goyle and Yaxley were close- to cackle and gossip as loudly as at Regulus' draft-party.

Rabastan and Yaxley’s wife were nowhere to be seen and Regulus thought it was rather beneficial that her husband was out cold.

By now, also the -oh so sophisticated- Death Eaters started to act out. Lucius was bickering with Carrow while Macnair drew lopsided phalli on Goyle’s and Crabbe’s faces and a crooked moustache on the bridge of Yaxley’s nose. Close, though.

Severus coaxed Bellatrix out of Walburga’s cutches and started flirting blatantly. Rodolphus watched the scenery with mild interest.

Around the time when one should keep a careful eye on what was on the floor while walking, Regulus snatched himself a piece of the last cake-shaped cake. He was tired and in a sour mood while stabbing at the unsuspecting and innocent slice. Irritated, he thought about his brother, who probably had a lot of fun. While somewhat happy for him, the envy and feeling of abandonment would just not leave, as much as he tried.

Surely, Remus is fucking Sirius' brain out by now.

Regulus' eyes widened.

Did I just say that out loud? His head snapped up, Bella and Severus staring at him, frozen in their tacks. Oh no. Oh no no no nonono! Merde! Shit! Shit shit shit!

But almost instantly the woman doubled over and sputtered vomit all over a very, very drunk Severus, who swore loudly but was unable to wobble away quick enough. Regulus sidestepped the next flood of her sick and excused himself. It was late enough to leave without gaining suspicion. On the way back to Malfoy Manor, he prayed to every deity whose existence he resolutely doubted, that Severus and Bellatrix were too drunk to remember come tomorrow. He considered confessing the maybe/maybe-not slip to his brother. But the call would be noticed and if Severus and Bellatrix indeed forgot about the slip, he would just urge on their memory. Also, his brother would be furious with him and if he ever wanted to make amends with him, wasn't it unwise to piss him off entirely without knowing that it was necessary?

The next days, Regulus was uncharacteristically jumpy. At dinners, he just pushed food around his plate, dreading the things that were to come. But nothing happened. Christmas came around and nothing happened. New Year’s Eve was two days ago, still nothing. If they remembered, I would surely know it by now. Maybe I did not commit the biggest fuck-up of my life.

                                                    -oOo-

After hiding out in his childhood room until the All Star-only practices began, Regulus felt somewhat steady. He had arranged himself with the new circumstances, his revised moral-code and set of minds. His life was unsatisfactory and lonely. He was not happy but it was bearable. Practice went well enough. On ice, he could zone-out. What happened in his life was not of importance in the rink. Hockey is about hockey only. Not friendship, not family, only competition. His mantra made it through his mental refurbishment untouched.

What he thought off the ice was written on another sheet of paper.

At of the last All Star-only practices, shit went straight down to hell. The Death Eaters, filling up for Regulus and Severus to practice certain tricks, were in very good spirits. Regulus felt uneasy at the sight of them, huddled together and sneering. Then, he saw it. He looks happy, in love. His brain supplied while looking at the photos before it caught up. The caption, the comments. Regulus went numb, froze on the spot, barely realising he stopped breathing. Things seemed to happen around him but he wasn't part of reality anymore and only snippets penetrated whatever fog surrounded him.

"Thanks for the hint. I finally got the worthless faggot." Severus smirked and threw him an overexaggerated wink while turning to his stall.

His mother called, she was clearly drunk and kept ranting about the shame of Sirius' abnormity gone public and how furious their father was. He didn't bother to really listen but was certain there were no words of support for his brother or concerns about Sirius' feelings. Sirius, who was thrown into the most hateful part of the internet, who just wanted to play hockey and love who he loved, now having his private life on display for the public to rip apart. Their parents, apparently, did not know who let it slip but Regulus was sure, if they ever found out, he was in for more than a black eye.

He desperately wanted to reverse time, make it unhappen but he knew that this was not an option. This was reality.

I messed up. Everything. Je suis désolé mon frère... I am so sorry brother The typical sarcasm and snark usually accompanying Regulus thoughts were long gone.

Mumbling something about extra laps, he turned back to the rink. Nobody said something, nobody came after him. They did not care and that was just what he needed. He ran laps until he was barely able to stay upright, head swimming, thoughts racing around but impossible to grasp, the weight on his chest suffocating. In the shower, Regulus collapsed on the floor. Sitting on the cold tiles, he was breathing hard as remorse, fear and shame mingled together to an unbearable sort of pain. Tears were running down his face, breath only coming in hard chopped sobs.

 Weak - disappointing – undeserving of affection - a meagre replacement, just a spare - not good enough - not fast enough - not strong enough - not worthy – unlovable.

These words kept spiralling in his head as he shoved his hands into his hair and pulled hard. His eyes fell on a shattered bottle beside him. Regulus was desperate to make his brain focus on something else, anything to make it stop. He grabbed the bottleneck and rammed the busted end into his thigh. Regulus did not feel the pain. Everything went blank as he watched the blood pour out of his leg and mix with the water on the floor, shower still running.

The silence brought some peace but something Regulus could not grasp felt off as he continued to watch his blood run down his thigh.