Read the warnings. Read them. I'm serious about them.
It's a very important chapter tho.

Chapter Warnings...
references to self-harm,
some instances of self-harm (nothing graphic like burning or cutting)
eating disorder as form of self-harm and self-punishment
mentioned/referenced suicide or attempted suicide
toxic ex-boyfriend
toxic use of self-harm to influence ppl

__

Lonely, another day

It feels like drowning, seeing James at the other end of the courtyard.

The news of Regulus Black being a Death Eater swapped through the castle in shallow waves. More and more students stare at him in the hallways. He almost expects a teacher or the headmaster to call him somewhere and expel him because they can't have open Death Eaters at school. He hopes this would happen.

It doesn't.

If anything, it makes him them trust less. What kind of Headmaster recruits students for his war but lets known Death Eaters like him roam this school?

Maybe Voldemort would do them a favour in defeating Dumbledore.

"Nameless grief took Achilles when he learned about the death of his beloved friend. Night fell in front of his eyes. He dragged both hands through black dust, spreading it over himself, and raked his fingers through his hair, pulling and plucking it off his head. Golden strands fell on the ground and the body. It was as if he had lost all sense. The cries for his lost lover rushed through the air so horribly, even his mother Thetis in the depths of the sea could hear. She rose above to comfort her beloved son. But there was only one comfort Achilles craved: bloody revenge on Hector, the murderer of his most beloved."

Evan is telling Barty a new story. They're sitting outside during the break. A small, blue flame in a jar is standing between Regulus and the couple. Barty is secretly holding Evan's hand.

"When Achilles saw his dearest friend lying there, mangled by spears, he threw himself on the body with hot tears. He was sprawled over Patroclus all day and night, not stirring even when his mother came with new armour for his revenge. He carried his body to his tent where he lay him down beside him where he used to sleep in life."

Regulus is looking at James and Sirius. He tunes Evan out.

James is leaning against a wall, staring into nothingness. Sirius and his friends are crowded around him. They are not talking with him. They are talking to each other, sometimes glancing at James, asking him a question, and looking away when he won't answer.

Regulus wants to go over there. He needs to go to him and hug him until he is okay again.

His presence would make it worse. He knows it would make it worse. He is the reason James is like that.

He is staring for too long.

Sirius notices it. He looks up and looks at him. He seems surprised for a moment, Regulus isn't sure about what, and then his look turns to anger. He turns away from him and grabs Remus' hand.

"But Achilles said 'neither food nor drink shall glide down my throat, as long as my friend lies mangled in my tent. I only crave murder and blood and the rattling of the dying.'"

Barty hits his arm. "Regulus, are you listening?"

Regulus tears his eyes away from James. "Sure, Achilles, Patroclus. He goes mad and kills Hector. I know."

"Don't spoil it, wanker," Barty shoves against his arm with a smile. Regulus ignores him. He turns back to Evan. "Does he get his revenge?"

"Yes. He does lose his mind a little bit though. I'll tell you the rest is later. It's a good story."

"Would you go mad if I died?" Barty asks.

"Mad? I'd lose my head without you, Sweetness. I'd go insane, absolutely insane. So, you better stay alive."

Regulus looks at them. They are turned to each other. Smiling at each other. Their fingers are tangled in their laps hidden by the long sleeves of their robes.

Regulus notices Mulciber and Avery before they ever reach him. His body reacts to their presence before the rest of him is aware of them. He shudders and then turns in search of the source of his discomfort.

The two older Slytherins stride across the courtyard to them. Regulus tenses up and carefully touches Barty's arm so he would let go of Evan's hand.

"Hey Black," Mulciber says cheerily and slaps his back. Regulus flinches away from his hand.

"What do you want?" Regulus snaps. He has no patience for them. If he has to spend time with them he might start vomiting into their faces or kill them right here. He is acutely aware of the looks from the Gryffindor herd on the other side.

"Just wanted to congratulate you," Mulciber says with a shrug and a lazy smirk. "It's good that you're so proud and open about our cause. To be honest, at first I was a little bit taken aback, I expected Dumbledore to do something, throw you out and what not, but nothing."

Mulciber shrugs easily. Avery narrows his eyes. "It is a little suspicious."

"Are you accusing me of something?" Regulus asks calmly. "The last person I'd place my trust and life in is Dumbledore, you can be sure of that."

Avery looks him up and down as if he was smart enough to detect any lies Regulus might tell. Under other circumstances, Regulus would perhaps laugh about it. He lies to Voldemort's face and this boy thinks he can detect his lies?
Besides, Regulus didn't lie.

Mulciber laughs. "Oh, come on, what kind of talk is that? If anything, you've proven your loyalty to us. We will be on the right side of History, Black, and you will be able to say that you've stood proudly and open for our ideals from the beginning. Everyone knows it and everyone will remember it, always."

The words force vomit up his throat. Regulus holds his breath.

He briefly entertains the thought of punching him in the face or throwing up on his robes. Fuck it, everybody already thinks he's evil, he could hex the boy right here. He could levitate him and let him drop on the floor with so much force his body falls apart upon impact.

Ultimately, Regulus does nothing. He never does anything against them, does he?

He simply turns away from Mulciber, declaring the conversation over. Avery and Mulciber now, unfortunately, turn to Evan and Barty.

"And you two, congratulations to your recent inauguration. I hope you will bring us as much honour as Black."

"Of course," Evan says, "We're loyal and proud, as well. But we have instructions on keeping quiet because of Barty's father."

The boys nod. Avery's gaze drops to where they're sitting, how close they are. He chews on his bottom lip.

"Just one well intentioned advice: Maybe you should keep an appropriate distance, don't you think? People already talk, you don't want to fuel that, do you?"

Regulus looks at his friends, who in turn look at each other and then scoot away from each other. Evan has a tight but otherwise neutral expression on his face, Barty is unable to hide his anger.

Avery nods appreciatively and Regulus wouldn't have been surprised if he ruffled their hair and said "good boys"

Neither of them says anything else for the rest of the break.

Regulus looks over to James again.

He can't fix that. He can't fix his relationship with James or Sirius or any of their friends. It's impossible. They know of the Mark, they have made up their mind about him a final time. He can't do anything about it. James can't do anything about it either. James can't scrape the Mark off his arm, even if he wanted to. James can't rescue him, he never could. There has never been a chance for them.

But Evan and Barty?

There is a chance for them.

A beach wedding and a home in Marseilles. Freedom and Love and copies of Greek tragedies. There is a chance for them. Regulus only needs to get them out.

His own life is decided, theirs isn't.

If everything else is lost, if there is no hope for anything or anyone, there is still hope for them. Regulus will make sure they get out of this. Regulus will make sure they get their happy end.

Regulus will nod and comply and do what Voldemort asks of him, for them. For his friends.

***

Regulus is on prefect duty when Dorcas finds him. He is alone on his rounds today, the other prefect has fallen ill, or feigned to have fallen ill, Regulus is never too sure with her.

The only interaction he has had with Dorcas so far was a look of pure horror and then anger and finally disgust when she first heard the rumours of Regulus taking the Mark. Regulus was surprised by how much that reaction touched him. Like pressing a finger into the wound James has left on him.

She finds him tonight, alone, and away from anyone. Regulus hears her coming but doesn't react. She doesn't say a word at first.

She grabs him by his robes and slams him into a wall. He thinks it might have hurt if he cared enough to pay attention to it.

"You," she hisses.

Regulus looks back at her.

"Is it true? Is it fucking true what they're saying? You took the fucking Mark?"

Regulus bites his tongue and looks away. She grabs his left arm and pushes back the sleeve, only finding the bandages disguising the Mark.

"You lied to me. You fucking played me, Regulus! I trusted you!" She drops his arm.

"I didn't lie to you," he whispers.

"So, what is this then? Still your idea of not taking a side? You took a side. You took a fucking side: Theirs!"

Regulus can only shake his head at her words. No, no he didn't. He isn't on their side; he has never been. He keeps shaking his head more to himself at this point.

"I believed in you," she says through clenched teeth. It's like a slap to the face. "You can't even fucking look at me, can you?"

Regulus closes his eyes and swallows. He lifts his face and looks into her dark eyes.

"Keep believing in me," he says so quietly, Dorcas wouldn't have heard it if she didn't have her nose almost pressed up against his.

She narrows her eyes at him.

"I need someone to keep believing in me. Never talk to me again if you want but trust me."

She looks at him for a long time, as if trying to decide whether she should believe him or kill him.

"I'm not asking you to do anything else for me. Don't talk to anyone, don't make anyone believe I'm something I'm not, don't advocate for me. My shortcomings don't have to influence your behaviour. Just tell me you believe in me. I need someone to do that for me."

She steps away from him, gaze dropping down to Regulus' arm.

"Dorcas, I've already lost everyone else."

She presses her lips together. Then her face becomes determined. To Regulus' surprise, she nods sharply and then closes in on him again.

"You're the bishop. I'm the rook. Our paths will almost never cross but I'll help you when I can." She says quietly and then turns around and leaves.

Regulus stares after her in shock.

Dorcas is on his side. Dorcas can still trust him, to an extent, a very careful extent. It's enough for Regulus. Maybe there is a chance for him to bring some good. For Evan and Barty and now, for her.

***

March 1978

Regulus dutifully goes to study with the Dark Lord every second Sunday. It's tearing him up inside, sitting there, listening to Voldemort and stories told by Death Eaters. It's sickening reading academic texts about curses and hearing them have a story for each of them.

He bears it. He can't force food down his throat afterwards, he hasn't slept properly in a while. He has to keep the arm in bindings because he keeps scratching on the Mark and keeps crying when he has to see it on himself.

Then there is James. James hasn't looked like himself ever since he left him that day in the room of requirement. He looks sad and tired. It seems the Mark has sucked out all life out of both of them, like a little dementor living on Regulus' skin.

Regulus has tried locking him away. He shoved him into the box in the back of his head. He forces himself not to look at him and pushes all thoughts and feelings down when it comes to him – despair, guilt, sorrow, love.

He can't. It won't work. All his usual tricks won't work against what James has done to him. He has pulled him out of that habit, he has cracked him open in the middle. He has made him feel all his feelings, no more nothing, no more numbness. Regulus thinks, for a time he has been grateful for that. Not anymore. It kills him, now.

It's Saturday and they are in the middle of Quidditch season. Today Gryffindor plays against Ravenclaw. Next week the winner will play against Slytherin after they've won against Hufflepuff the week before.

Regulus doesn't know why he turned up for the game. No one wants him here anyway, last of all James and Sirius, he imagines.

He shouldn't have come.

He sits in the ranks and watches, his face doesn't so much as twitch no matter who scores. His eyes are on James. James plays with perfect form. He is concentrated on the game. It holds his full attention. There are no cocky winks or waves to the crowd. He, McKinnon and the third chaser pass the Quaffle between them, not fumbling even once. It's all very clean and orderly. It reflects in the crowd. They seem bored for the most part. The match doesn't so much as draw a gasp from most students. Usually, it's a show. Especially with James.

"Well, this is fucking boring," Barty complains next to him. He came with him simply out of best-mate duty, as he calls it. Evan came with Barty out of boyfriend duty.

"Yeah, can we leave?" Evan leans over to Regulus.

"You can leave," he says simply.

Barty sighs. "For your sake I hope he doesn't fuck like he plays," he whispers to him, possibly aiming to get a smile for him, a smirk, a brag.

Regulus clenches his jaw. Anger and disgust rush through him, though he isn't entirely sure at whom the disgust is directed. He wants to throw someone off the Slytherin stands – maybe himself.

He is still busy contemplating all of that when cheers do break loose from the Gryffindors. Regulus looks up. Their seeker has caught the snitch. It's over.

"Finally," Barty claps his hands together and stands up. Regulus leans over the balustrade and looks down at the pitch.

The Gryffindors get ready for their cheer. Regulus just wants to watch them do it then they can leave. He will crawl into his bed and stay there for the rest of Saturday, he thinks.

"Lion's mane!" the crowd calls and all eyes turn to James waiting for him to say his bit of it.

Regulus stares down at him. James doesn't do anything, simply standing there.

"Lion's mane!"

He thinks James is looking in the direction of the Slytherin stands. Regulus can't breathe.

"Lion's mane!" they try again, now quieter.

Sirius touches James' shoulder. James shakes him off and walks to the changing rooms without another word.

Regulus scratches at his arm and pinches the skin until he gasps a breath from the pain.

***

Regulus skips dinner that evening. He doesn't want to be in the Great Hall when James is there. It will be better for James when he isn't there.

He doesn't go to the library anymore either, too afraid of facing Remus or any of their other friends. He takes to borrowing the books from the library in the morning and bringing them back just before Ms Pince closes the place. The only people he ever runs into at those times are tired 5th and 7th years who study early and late, James and his friends are never there.

The school has been very quiet, they weren't disturbed by a prank since last December and Regulus has never thought peace and quiet could hurt as much as it does.

He sits in his bed, pouring over texts on Occlumency and other stuff that is actually related to his classes.

He focuses on the texts and barely registers the footsteps passing outside or the door being opened.
He looks up when someone sits down on his bed.

He expects Barty if anyone. It's Evan. He holds out a piece of bread and a shallow bowl of pudding out to him.

"I'm not hungry."

"Barty is this close to shove a feeding tube into you while you sleep if you keep skipping supper."

Regulus doesn't think he would. He takes the food regardless and starts nibbling on the bread.

"You're difficult," Evan tells him flatly. "You're worrying Barty, you don't talk to us, you keep not eating or sleeping and pace around this dorm all night until we wake up."

Regulus chews on his lip more than the bread. He doesn't mean for them to worry, much less to notice.

"I'm fine."

Evan gives him a look. "Either you talk or you stay silent, but don't sit here and lie to my face, Regulus."

It's all I ever do. He thinks but doesn't say anything.

Evan sighs and leans against the post of Regulus' bed, his feet on the blanket next to Regulus' hip. He sits and watches him eat, tracing every piece transferring from the bread to Regulus' mouth.

"Do you have doubts?" Evan asks eventually.

Regulus stops chewing and looks at him.

"It's alright if you do. I do, too, sometimes. It's all... I mean, I want the revolution. I believe in it. I believe in the dark Lord. It's just..." he looks away and rubs his hands together.

"What is it?" Regulus asks. "Have you talked about it with Barty?"

"With Barty? No. No, I need to be strong for him. He has no one but us, we need to be the strong ones for him. You need to be strong for him, too. Everything we do, every mistake and waver falls back on him. We have security because our families are tied to Voldemort. But Barty? Out of the three of us, he might be the first one to die if anything happens."

Regulus' hand wraps tighter around the bread. Barty won't die. Not on his watch.

"And I can't talk to my parents either, of course. It was their idea for me to join. They can't stop gushing about how wonderful it all is, how much glory I and my brother bring to the family. Yours is much the same, I imagine."

"Yes."

"See. Then who to share the doubts with? No one can know I even have them."

Regulus looks at him and swallows. "You can tell me."

Evan sucks on his bottom lip and closes his eyes. "I still see him... in my head."

"Who?"

Evan takes a long time to answer. "Stevenson." He runs his hand through his dark blond hair, pulling lightly on it. "Do you remember what he looked like, alive? Do you know what he looked like before his life was made living hell? Can you picture him smiling? Because I can't."

He opens his eyes with a jolt as if he has seen something at the back of his eyelids that horrified him.

"I see him all the time. Screaming, crying... pleading. He said my name, you know? I was there when his family was killed, and he knew who I was. My mask fell off, I think, maybe I took it off, I can't remember. It was all a great fun, everyone was laughing. Then there is that... child. He clutched my leg. He said my name and... begged me. ... That's the only way I can picture him, now. I want to replace it in my head with that child being happy, but I can't remember ever seeing him before that day in the common room when Mulciber threatened him."

"I know what you mean," Regulus says quietly, though, really it isn't the same. He hasn't been there when Stevenson