Anthem for the Broken
Regulus Black x Reader
Requested plot: Imagine the reader as close with the Marauders, but she falls for Regulus.
Word count: 2698
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything recognisable.
Warning: It takes a dark turn, sorry.
“I’m not helping you! I’ve told you at least a hundred times, James, if you mention pranking around me, I’ll hex you!” (Y/N) explained, waving her wand in front of her friend.
“I know, but we could use for an extra pair of strong hands, it’s going to be a fun prank, promise,” James replied, grinning at her.
“No, that’s my final answer,” (Y/N) shook her head. She had sworn never to help them, no matter how much they wanted her help. She was a prefect, and McGonagall had let it slip that if she kept her perfect record and grades, she would most likely beat Lily Evans to Head Girl title.
“But (Y/N),” James complained, “We can’t do it without you!” he sat down next to her on the couch, “we need you!” he put his arm around her, looking at her with puppy-dog eyes.
Before she could answer him, Sirius and Peter came down from the boys’ dormitories with two large cardboard boxes.
“Ah, (Y/N), I’m glad to see you finally let go of your goody-two-shoe façade, I always knew there was something interesting about you, something beneath what meets the eye of course,” he winked at her, almost dropping the cardboard box.
“I’m not,” (Y/N) snapped annoyed, “And I’m not a goody-two-shoe,” she rolled her eyes.
Sirius shrugged, smirking at the girl.
Remus entered the Common Room, a ghost of a smile covered his lips, “If she doesn’t want to help, let her be, Sirius,” Remus sighed.
“What are you even planning on doing in the middle of the night?” she asked, getting up from the couch, “And what the hell is that?” she pointed to the boxes in Peter and Sirius’ hands.
“Well, since you’re not in on the prank, we can’t really tell you, (Y/N).”
“Okay, fine,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes.
“But if you insist on knowing,” Sirius smirked, “they are Pogrebins, tiny once.”
(Y/N) narrowed her eyes, “Why on earth do you have Pogrebins in boxes? Are you out of your minds?”
“No,” James laughed, “We’re creating a challenge for the students at Hogwarts, they need to test out their duelling skills,” James told her.
“And you think the best way to test their duelling skills is to try and kill them?” (Y/N) asked, looking accusingly at Remus.
“I’ve tried to stop them, but they’re not changing their minds,” he explained.
“It’s better that Remus is with us, so he can sort things out if we mess up,” Peter told her.
“And, he secretly wants to fight Pogrebins too,” Sirius smirked.
“Not really,” Remus replied, “I just don’t want to see you three kicked out of school,” he sighed.
(Y/N) shook her head, “I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” she closed her eyes, opening the portrait door.
The four boys looked at her with confused expressions, “So? Are you coming or not?” she asked, rolling her eyes.
The four boys had explained that they had set up a cage for the four Pogrebins, and (Y/N) was to let them out when James gave her the signal; the Patronus charm.
(Y/N) didn’t know why she was helping them, a tiny part of her secretly wanted to do something bad, but she would never admit that to any of the four Marauders.
She stood a few feet away from the Forbidden Forest, watching the four Pogrebins frantically trying to get out of their cages.
James was still at Hogwarts, under his Invisibility Cloak, keeping an eye on Filch.
James’ Patronus came flying towards her from the castle, silvery-blue and beautiful.
“Okay, just open the cage, stun them, and get back inside Hogwarts,” she told herself, repeating the instructions Sirius had given her.
Something was not right. The second she opened the cage, and the creatures started to run they were twice as many. And twice as many the next second. “Shit!” she whispered scared.
“What the hell?” someone behind (Y/N) yelled at her.
She turned around, a boy with black hair stood behind her, his eyes wide.
“Run!” She yelled back, setting off up the hill. He did as she told him, running next to her into the dark forest behind Hogwarts School.
“Why on earth would you do that?” he breathed through clenched teeth.
“I don’t know, I- It was stupid,” (Y/N) replied, just as out of breath.
The boy stopped, taking her hand in his, forcing her to a halt. “We should climb it,” he pointed at the three before them, and they both climbed the thick branches.
(Y/N) looked down, watching the Pogrebins running past their hiding spot. She sighed in relief.
She heard the boy next to her chuckle lightly.
“You think this is funny?” she asked shocked.
“You don’t?” he replied.
“No, they weren’t supposed to be cursed,” she shook her head, “It must have been Black, he cursed those things with the Gemino Curse,” she accused.
“Sounds like something my brother would do, yes,” the boy replied, and (Y/N) looked at him, noticing his green and silver Hogwarts robes.
“Oh, Wow,” (Y/N) stumbled on her words, “you’re Regulus Black,” she pressed her lips together embarrassed.
“The one and only,” he replied dryly.
“I’m (Y/N),” she held her hand out; Regulus took it, a small smile played on his lips as he shook it.
“I know,” he told her, “and aren’t you a prefect?” he asked.
“I was, but I don’t think I am one tomorrow,” she tried to smile, but it came off as more of a grimace.
“Well, I’m sorry about that,” he pulled out his wand, (Y/N) noticed something, a tattoo of some sort on his wrist. Red sparks flew from his wand as he stunned a running Pogrebin.
“I don’t know, it doesn’t matter that much,” she lied, “But, what were you even doing out here?” she asked him.
“Seeing as you no longer consider yourself a prefect, I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Regulus smirked, waving his wand to knock out another running Pogrebin.
“Hey,” she laughed, “I didn’t say that,” she protested.
“Sounded like it to me,” he argued.
“That was the last one,” (Y/N) pointed to the ground, which was now free of all the Pogrebins.
“Maybe you’ll be prefect tomorrow after all,” he told her, jumping off the branch.
“Yeah, because when Dumbledore is called out to rid the Forbidden Forest of two hundred and counting Pogrebins, he’s not going to care who did it,” she laughed dryly.
“I’ll admit, it does sound a bit bad,” he smiled, “but you could always blame my brother,” he suggested.
“Yeah,” (Y/N) nodded, “I guess I could,” she looked at the younger Black brother, “but I can’t.”
Regulus laughed, “Okay.”
“I should go,” (Y/N) told him, sending him a half-hearted smile.
“Why, eh,” Regulus stopped her, “Why don’t I follow you back, just to make sure there are no more Pogrebins ready to attack.”
“Yeah,” she nodded.
A fortnight later and she hadn’t so much as looked at the youngest Black brother. She had heard his voice in the corridor as he laughed with his Slytherin friends, as he spoke with Slughorn about potions class, and as he argued quietly with his older brother.
The four Marauders had asked her what had happened the night of the prank gone wrong, she had only cast Sirius an angry look and walked to her room.
When she had told Regulus she would lose her prefect badge, she hadn’t quite believed it herself. It wasn’t until McGonagall asked her to hand it over, looking at her with such disappointment, she realised she had lost her future. Lost Head Girl. Lost her perfect record. Lost her professors trust.
(Y/N), lost in thoughts, hit a wall.
“Watch it,” he said annoyed.
“You watch it,” she replied, looking into the blue eyes of Regulus Black.
“(Y/N),” he said, surprise covering his words.
“Hi,” she blushed, “I didn’t mean to snap at you,” she apologised.
“Yeah, me neither.”
They looked at each other, painful silence hanging in the air. He didn’t have the same look as Sirius, the one where she felt like he was judging her, eyeing her appearance. Regulus looked at her with careful eyes, like he wanted to see if she was ok.
“Have you been avoiding me?” she asked finally.
He raised his eyebrows, “No, I thought you were avoiding me,” he smirked.
“No, I just didn’t know if you wanted to speak with me,” she told him.
“Why wouldn’t I want to do that?” he asked.
“Because I’m,” she pointed towards her robes.
“A Gryffindor?” he chuckled lightly.
“Well, yes,” (Y/N) felt her cheeks burning.
“I don’t really care about your house, (Y/N),” he told her. “It’s not a very flattering colour, I’ll admit that much, but you pull it off,” he blushed a little, “I mean, it suits you, I mean, honestly I don’t, I don’t, I don’t know I mean,” he finished.
(Y/N) smiled, “Thanks, that’s the best compliment I’ve ever gotten,” she joked.
“Sorry,” he closed his eyes as he sent her a smile, “and I heard your badge got revoked,” he pointed to where her prefect badge used to be, “sorry about that too.”
“That wasn’t your fault,” said (Y/N).
“No, but it was one Black’s fault, and he’s a stubborn idiot, so I bet he hasn’t apologised yet.”
“He has, actually, and it wasn’t Sirius’ fault either, he didn’t know his spell had that effect on the Pogrebins, he thought he had only made one more.”
“So he’s stupid too,” Regulus joked, “you need better friends, (Y/N),” he laughed.
“You’re one to speak, hanging with those future Voldemort supporters,” (Y/N) hissed.
Regulus looked away, “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand, (Y/N),” he told her, avoiding her eyes.
They didn’t speak again until after the Christmas break.
Regulus had stopped her as she was heading out of Potions class, and when she asked what he wanted, he had one simple reply; “I needed to see you.”
(Y/N)’s heart had skipped a bit, and she replied, “I’m glad you did.”
She hadn’t stopped thinking about him, not even when she fell asleep did she stop thinking about him. He haunted her waking hours, as well as her dreams.
“I don’t know how to say this,” Regulus brushed a hand through his hair, “but I can’t stop thinking about you.”
(Y/N) looked away, her heart skipping several beats as she repeated his words in her mind. She looked up at him again, taking in his beauty. Maybe beauty was not the right word to describe someone like Regulus Black. He was not beautiful. Extraordinary, absolutely, but beauty was not a word she would use to describe the Slytherin. Beauty was simply not great enough. There was something about him, under his façade of bravery, deviousness, and nonchalance, something that sparked a fire in her. It scared her, of course, it did.
Somehow, she understood him; in this world, especially for someone of Regulus’ blood status and upbringing, one has to be cunning and cruel.
Sirius would disagree; of course, he would, for he was the living evidence to the contrary. Sirius was the living evidence of success. Sirius radiated beauty. He shone of everything (Y/N) wished for, but still, she did not envy him. His life was sad, much like Regulus’; brothers fighting on opposite sides of a war they were both too young to understand. Dragged into it by simply being born.
“(Y/N)?” Regulus looked at her with a shy smile.
“Sorry,” (Y/N) met his eyes, “I’m glad you can’t,” said she, a hint of a smile dancing on her lips as she replied.
That was the simple breaking point for the two. They couldn’t stop thinking about each other. Therefore they could not stop seeing each other. Every day. Every waking hour. They loved. Innocently. Afraid.
It was the safety of Hogwarts that finally broke them apart. (Y/N) left her Gryffindor Common Room for the last time; Regulus stayed one more year.
The loneliness of Hogwarts, the absence of (Y/N), and the pressure of being the Slytherin son, it was too much for Regulus.
He fell, and he fell hard. Except this time not for a heart of gold, but a heart inked with darkness. He had taken the mark in his sixth year before he had ever known anything of the Gryffindor girl, so it was no turning back when he was asked to join the other young, faithful Death Eaters.
The best he could do was shield the people he cared about from the darkness and its harm. Keep them safe.
He did so, even after leaving Hogwarts. He never sought her out, let the war do to him what it had in store, but he never let his emotions shine too brightly.
It was a love they would never get right. (Y/N) understood that much. She was smart, but so was Regulus, he must have known she would take it hard. She did not understand it, at least not until she joined the group that called themselves The Order of the Phoenix.
She educated herself about the war, learned to know it, and with that came the knowledge of the boy she had loved and the darkness that had surrounded him. Deeper than (Y/N) had ever believed. She remembered the night she had met Regulus. Remembered his tattoo.
The realisation hit her hard. She remembered the night perfectly; she had sat with Remus, Alice and Sirius, trying to figure out the pattern of the Death Eaters attacks on muggle villages.
She had seen a picture of one of the nameless Death Eaters, seen his mark of darkness.
“I’ve seen that before,” she had exclaimed.
“Yes, not unlikely, it is the Dark Mark,” had the young werewolf explained.
“The dark mark?” (Y/N) pressed her lips together, colour draining from her face.
“It’s the mark of the Dark Lord’s followers, (Y/N),” Sirius continued.
“But,” (Y/N) met the beautiful eyes of her paramour’s brother.
Sirius nodded, shrugging.
“I’m shocked you didn’t,” the dark-haired boy said, he did not mean it as a sly comment, but it stung.
“I didn’t,” (Y/N) shook her head, “At least I didn’t want to know it, I, he, he was not like them,” she tried to express her feelings.
“Maybe not, but he is one of them.”
She had not cried about her loss, for she had not lost anything, she had let him go. Or had he let her go? (Y/N) could not tell.
She did not think much about Regulus that year; at least she tried not to. Forgetting was easier than drowning in sadness.
She avoided the boy in her thoughts for almost a whole year, but one day, an envelope lay on her bed. He had written her name in neat letters, with intense black ink.
Inside was a letter, a letter that broke her heart; broke her heart beyond mending.
My Dearest, (Y/N),
Do you know I’ve been out of my mind?
I’ve dreamt every night of your touch,
and I wish for you, but known we belong to a different life, one I have so foolishly thrown away.
I have been selfish.
It was selfish to think I could have something as perfect, pure, and beautiful as you.
I see myself much like a castle made of sin; I do not deserve beauty; I do not deserve you.
I have been waiting, maybe for this war to end, or for my fight in to take its last breath, I don’t know. I have held tight, but I carry my name wrong, I don’t want to live a life like this, undeserving of you.
(Y/N), I hope you know how much you have meant to me, I might not have shown it much. But you meant everything.
I say ‘meant’, because I am afraid I do not have much more time in this life. I have discovered the Dark Lord’s deepest secret, and I intend to right my wrongs.
I love you
He never wrote his name, but she knew who he was, and she loved him still. Always.