the devil you know (remus)

[mitzeh]

He should probably we worried about the amount of alcohol he had been consuming lately – really, he didn’t recall drinking so much last year, damn it, he had barely drunk last year. But, since people who think a bottle of whiskey is the perfect solution to all their problems rarely have the mind to worry about their progressing addiction, and one of the unwritten rules of the Slytherin House was keep out of other people’s business, Regulus Black was happily oblivious to the fact that his behaviour was, to put it mildly, a little unhealthy. It wasn’t like anyone would care anyway. Well, his parents might be bothered by the fact that their fifteen year old son was on his best way to become an alcoholic, though only because it would be bad for the family’s reputation. He was safe as long as people didn’t find out, so he would just have to make sure his tendency to wander around the castle in the middle of the night while nursing a bottle of fine whiskey went unnoticed. Regulus was good at being sneaky, he really was. So, nobody would find out. So, he could keep getting drunk on a more or less regular basis whenever he felt like it. Or, well, whenever he was miserable enough to feel like downing the whole bottle of rather strong booze in one long swig.

Like this night, for example.

Someone had once said to him that he was a completely different person while drunk. Perhaps they had been right, or perhaps he just got too pissed to try and keep up appearances, he didn’t know – and, frankly, he wasn’t in the mood to be thinking about it right now. It was enough to say that while Regulus Black everyone knew was a quiet and calm young gentleman, with sharp tongue and intelligence that exceeded most of his peers’, Regulus after approximately half the bottle of whiskey was – well, different indeed. Still intelligent, of course, but also noticeably more… dangerous, equally to himself and other people. There was a sharper edge to him, recklessness that he usually didn’t show, and darkness in his grey eyes that he managed to hide most of the times – visible signs of the shitload of issues the younger Black had to deal with on a daily basis. He also had a bad habit of making out with random people while in such state, just to forget about all his problems and focus on more pleasurable things in life.

This time however he had decided long before sneaking out of the dungeons that no, he didn’t want to end up in bed with someone this time, yet yes, he did want to get drunk. It didn’t take a genius like himself to figure out that the kitchens were possibly the safest option – not only did the elves not mind the presence of drunk students (as long as you had brought a couple bottles of butterbeer with you, he knew from past experience), but also the teachers patrolling the corridors at night never thought about checking this particular place for any wayward teenagers. The only problem was usually getting to the kitchens, but not for a Slytherin. Getting caught during a five minute walk – even a first year wouldn’t be stupid enough, let alone someone who had spent over four years at Hogwarts.

So now, a few minutes after midnight, Regulus Black, fifth year Slytherin and the heir to one of the most influential families in Great Britain, was lying on a wooden table in the middle of Hogwarts kitchens, staring blankly at the ceiling and occasionally taking a long swig from the bottle sat on his left. The smell of whiskey was strong around him, mixed with a more pleasant sugar aroma coming from the various kinds of cake arranged neatly on the plates around the boy – the elves had been more than happy to prepare all kinds of treats for him, which he’d had absolutely no qualms about using. Regulus himself looked a mess – his robes were crumpled, his tie undone, and his hair was spread around his head like a black halo. He was also barefoot and, apparently, so preoccupied with his own misery that he didn’t even turn his head when someone else entered the kitchens.

[REMUS JOHN LUPIN]

They said that alcohol was used as a way to numb a person from the cold realities of the world. Everything was going wrong lately, absolutely everything. It had all started with that stupid dance that he knew he shouldn't have attended with the last person he should have attended with. No, actually it had all started way before that. How he could count the ways...

It had all started at the end of the previous year. McGonagal had informed him that he was likely never to get a job as an auror due to his lycanthropy. No matter if he was better than most aurors entering the force, he would be seen as a threat. And the current laws passed would prevent him from doing so. Then, that summer, Sirius had moved in with James, and he hadn't found out until they were all on the train together. The fact his friends had kept something that important from him, not even bothering to owl him or to see if he wanted to come stay for a few days had hurt him deeply. He knew that his friends never thought like that, but that didn't mean he had to excuse them due to their ignorance.

Coming back to the school near the full moon meant there had been little time to prepare, but he had been hoping to see his friends- to have their support. But then Sirius got detention and Peter had a date. James had been the only one to show up, and Remus had badly injured himself that night in his fit of rage. Things went worse at the dance after Sirius had kissed him and acted all so nonchalant and uncaring about it. He had realized his friend hadn't meant it, and to have that betrayal after everything else had only made everything so much worse. He had avoided his friends like the plague until James had cornered him and forced him to admit everything.

At least things had seemed to be going back to normal to a degree. Until those masked men- the Death Eaters had shown up in Hogsmeade. Ten people were dead total, two of them students. Many more were injured, including himself and his friends, but they had gotten off easier than others. ... Until the full moon came. Remus had just been released from the Hospital Wing with fresh bandages on. It hadn't taken him long to go to Gryffindor Tower and steal from the Marauders stash. He'd pay Sirius back later, if he could.

Pouring the liquor into his flask, he made his way to the kitchens in hopes of finding either something to mix it with or something to chase it with. At this point, he didn't care which. He was drinking all the way down to the kitchen, and considering the fact he'd charmed his flask to hold more alcohol than it should, it meant he had drank pretty heavily within ten minutes. And by the time he reached the kitchens, he was already feeling tipsy. (Granted, he'd been stopped by another prefect in the halls to answer whether or not he'd seen a first year girl running through the halls, which he hadn't.)

"Fancy seeing you here," he responded rather flatly when he laid eyes on Regulus, but alcohol had a strange effect on Remus and the usually calm, collected boy just didn't care anymore. He was fed up with it all, and if he wanted to have a drink, who was to tell him otherwise!?

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TAG - Regulus
WORDS - 684
SONG - None
MUSE - Ahmazing whee~
NOTES -
CREDIT made by flyy~

[/size][/blockquote]

[mitzeh]

Only when he heard the other boy’s voice did Regulus bother to raise his head to look at him. He didn’t look too surprised, but then again, he didn’t look too anything at this very moment, so who knew, really? “I just keep meeting you in the strangest places, eh, Lupin?” he said, sounding rather amused, even if his words were a bit slurry. The truth was, they had kept running into each other ever since their accidental meeting in the library; well, fine, maybe some of those meetings had been… arranged by Regulus, but who could blame him? The Gryffindor had turned out to be a much more interesting person that he would have ever expected, which, combined with the fact that the younger Black was quite curious by nature could have ended one way only. (No, he wasn’t a stalker; Blacks didn’t stalk people. He just made sure they could talk at least once a week. Lupin was a skilled conversationalist, after all.)

The Slytherin raised himself on his elbows, only to shoot Remus a scrutinizing look. His eyes stopped on the flask in the other boy’s hand for a while. “And you keep proving that you are anything but a holy Gryffindor poster boy,” he mused, laughing. It was a… surprisingly nice laughter, full of genuine amusement, not Regulus’ usual snicker or chuckle – but then again Remus had never seen his friend’s brother drunk before. And vice versa, too. The younger boy had a creeping suspicion that this night was going to prove quite informative, and his still sober self tried to warn him that it wasn’t a good thing, not at all, in fact it would be rather terrifying, so he should just get up and walk away, but – honestly. He drank some more whiskey to shut this annoying little voice up. It helped.

“Cake?” he asked, waving his hand around – rather pointlessly at that, though he lost his balance for a second as he ended up supporting his (admittedly small) weight on one of his arms only. Wild gestures weren’t a good idea in his current state. “You like chocolate, right? There is chocolate cake somewhere. I think. I might have eaten it, I don’t know. Can you see it?” Regulus wrinkled his nose, looking around. Also not a good idea. He quickly gave up any politeness and fell flat on the wood again. The world around him was still spinning, but at least he was relatively safe in this position. He turned his head and focused his gaze – intense as always, despite him being horribly drunk already – on Remus. “Are you gonna just stand there the whole night? You can’t just stand there. I’m gonna get a cramp in my neck just from looking at you, that’s not fair.” He hadn’t even noticed the unusual flatness to Lupin’s voice; he didn’t notice many things in this state, which was kind of the point of it, really. If the Gryffindor was going to be all cold and emotionless all the time, that was okay too, because apparently Regulus was talkative enough for both of them – and he seemed to enjoy gesturing a bit too much, because even now that he was once again laying on the table, he kept picking at his robes restlessly.

He only managed to stay quiet for a few minutes before speaking again. “Why are you even getting drunk alone? I don’t have friends, that’s a good excuse to be here,” Regulus grinned, though it turned out rather dark. The shadows under his eyes were even more noticeable in the kitchens’ light. “But you? I thought Sirius would gladly keep you company. You know, since he has chosen you over me. Because he hates me. And you know what’s funny? I have no fucking idea why, since he never bothered explaining. Hilarious, isn’t it?” He finished his little tirade with another long swig from the bottle. Then he blinked. “Huh. I may be more drunk than I thought. Forget I said that, will you?” And, since being sober would only make him curse himself for spilling this out to Lupin (of all people!), Regulus wanted to made sure that he would stay drunk for as long as possible; so he drank from his bottle again. Then he started coughing, because he hadn’t bothered sitting up this time. Damn it.

[REMUS JOHN LUPIN]

Remus couldn't deny the fact it was a strange feeling to be drunk in the presence of one of his best friend's younger brother. Not to mention when said friend seemed to hate the younger brother with an utmost passion. Still, the thought seemed distant and unimportant right now. The whole room was swimming pleasantly, and he didn't have time to bother with complex thoughts. It was rare that Remus Lupin found it in himself to let go of his morality and just be.

Regulus's comment about him not being Gryffindor's poster boy couldn't have been more true to Remus at the moment. What sort of prefect got drunk and headed to the kitchens of all places? It was bad enough he had done so at the dance, but perhaps it was even worse now, for it wasn't any day or special occasion that called for such behavior. Not only that, but Remus was a person built for self doubt. He doubted that he really belonged in Gryffindor to begin with, he doubted that he deserved his friends, he doubted her was meant to be at Hogwarts. But if he continued to let the self doubt eat at him, he would never succeed in anything, and so he tried to ignore it, even if it was an inherent part of his being.

"Cake? Where?" he looked around, stumbling a bit once he realized his feet were moving a bit faster than he intended for them to, and he couldn't keep his balance. He'd drank pretty heavily already, and it was a good thing he had stopped or else he would have been on the road to getting sick. Remus had, admittedly, gotten sick from alcohol more than once. It was usually at those bloody parties James and Sirius threw after James won a Quidditch match. He either became miserable and drank to repress his feelings or he was eager to be with his friends and drank because he didn't know his limits.

Either way, he should have known better when to stop, but it wasn't going to happen any time soon. At the very least, he would have one hell of a hangover and would be one hell of a bitch to deal with the following day. James called it "Pre-Moon Syndrome", which Remus both found entertaining and irritating. He was no bloody girl and he sure as hell wasn't hormonal, even when it was actually during the full moon, and he dared say that Sirius wasn't more hormonal and bitchy than himself after a night of drinking. He complained louder than anyone in the room as far as Remus was concerned which did nothing for his headache.

But he was getting ahead of himself. For now, he was quite pleasantly drunk and it appeared that he had found a fork and some cake, for he was shoveling it into his mouth quite absentmindedly. His tastebuds were all but numb due to his drinking, and he barely tasted any of it. When had he gotten it anyways, and how had he managed to wind up sitting in a chair next to Regulus. "Because my friends are too busy for me," that was technically a lie. James hadn't shown an inclination of the sort, even going as far to visiting Hogsmeade with him so he wouldn't be alone, but the tension still wasn't resolved. None of the Marauders were on the same page, and they all knew it. It would drive them apart if they didn't fix it.

"Your brother never wants to talk, that's his problem," Remus said with a tone of harsh bitterness. He had half a mind to take another drink, seeing as he wasn't too numb not to feel stung by the subject of Sirius's carelessness. "Neither he nor James bothered to tell me he'd moved in over the summer. Never once owled or even bothered to use floo powder. It's not as if I go anywhere during the summer," oh, yes, Remus Lupin had much hidden anger directed at his friends, but in truth he loved them too much to ever harm them... but that didn't mean they didn't hurt him from time to time, even if it was out of carelessness rather than malice.

"Dunno if he hates you. He never talks about you," he couldn't really confirm or deny that fact, and he felt sympathy for the other boy- he knew what it was like to be unwanted. He finished off his cake and looked at the plate with a rather lost-puppy look. He had really been enjoying that, even if he was just now tasting it... somewhat... barely. "I don't have any siblings, but my parents pretend like I don't exist. I can't tell you if I'd prefer it to being scolded or not," there was something about feeling like you didn't matter- as if someone couldn't even be bothered to hate you- that was unnerving to him. He'd rather his parents yelled at him about his homework rather than nod absentmindedly when he told them about everything he was learning at Hogwarts.

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TAG - Regulus
WORDS - 980
SONG - None
MUSE - Ahmazing whee~
NOTES - :3
CREDIT made by flyy~

[/size][/blockquote]

[mitzeh]

Despite not being any more sober than the Gryffindor, Regulus watched the other boy’s stumbling with genuine amusement. At least he, seeing as he was laying down right now and wasn’t about to get up again anytime soon, wouldn’t embarrass himself by tripping over his own feet in front of someone. (Not that it was likely, even in his current state. Even when he was completely pissed the Slytherin’s movements were still graceful, only more liquid.) He was smiling, the corners of his eyes crinkling a bit, and he looked unbelievably young and – open, nothing like what he was without a drop of alcohol in his system. It was good to know that Lupin probably wouldn’t remember any of it the next day, although the thought was distant and unimportant at this moment.

“Mhm, cake. I don’t even know when the elves made it. But they know I like it, so they did,” he replied, tracing every one of Remus’ movements with a hawk-like gaze. Regulus’ stare was always pretty intense, but he had a tendency to focus on one thing completely while drunk. He had been complained to that the attention he was giving other people then made them feel uncomfortable, almost like his look was burning through their skin; he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t like he wanted to, anyway. So he observed the other boy as he ate, eyes moving from the plate to Remus’ lips, a small smile on his face – and the longer he focused on the Gryffindor’s mouth, the less childlike and more devious the smile became. There had been a reason why Regulus had chosen the kitchens as his refuge for tonight, and Lupin showing up completely ruined the younger boy’s plans. Well, sort of.

There was something about Remus that Regulus couldn’t quite understand – which only made him all the more interesting. The truth was that the younger Black got bored of people rather quickly, as soon as he realized that they had nothing to offer – they weren’t a challenge, most of them. He could use them for various purposes, keep in touch with them because his family’s position in the Wizarding World required it, but he didn’t care about them; now Lupin, he was a mystery of sorts, full of contradictions and things Regulus could not put his finger on. A part of him wished he could just lock the older student in a cage and study him, day by day, until he knew everything about him and there would be no riddles left to solve. Lupin was intelligent, but it wasn’t just his quick wits that made him so attractive to the Slytherin – whether he admitted it or not, Hogwarts was actually as full of clever people as it was of idiots, but Regulus himself was extraordinary enough to realize that intelligence and good marks didn’t make a person someone worth knowing. There was something else about Remus that drew the younger Black to him: the emotions just below the surface, apparently conflicted, the understanding of the necessity to break the rules sometimes, the fascination with darker magic while still pledging his allegiance to the light, finally the self-doubt that Regulus couldn’t quite miss but had no idea what its source was. And then there was the plain attractiveness that Lupin didn’t seem to even realize he had, although it was obvious to the younger boy – he admired it just like he admired everything else that he saw beautiful. Regulus, having grown up surrounded by luxury, was particularly fond of exquisite things – and Remus Lupin was exquisite, both in mind and in body, the sheer brilliance shining in those eyes that reminded him of liquid honey.

The boy raised his hand slowly and wiped some chocolate from Remus’ cheek, his long fingers tracing the other boy’s skin gently for a while longer than necessary. He wondered vaguely what it would taste like, but he wasn’t drunk enough to lick at it just yet. He was, however, drunk enough to be saying things that usually wouldn’t leave his mouth. “You know, last time I drunkenly stumbled into a good looking Gryffindor after curfew, we ended up having sex in a broom closet,” he chuckled, retracting his hand and crossing both his arms under his head instead. Although he was facing the ceiling, he actually watched Remus out of the corner of his eye, gauging the boy’s reaction. He remembered Lupin’s shocked reaction to something that hadn’t been supposed to be as much a compliment as it had been supposed to be a fact from their first meeting in the library. He wondered if it would be the same now. “It’s kind of funny actually how he still can’t look me in the eye without getting all awkward,” the boy laughed, his eyes closing for a second.

He opened them and instantly turned his gaze to Remus’ face again, amusement gone and replaced with contempt as their conversation turned to more serious issues – including one that Regulus tended to avoid at all costs, namely his older brother. Something ached in his chest when Lupin mentioned Sirius leaving their house to live – somewhere, anywhere else and he tried to ignore it, but couldn’t stop himself from averting his eyes from the Gryffindor for a while, just to hide his hurt. “Potter’s, huh,” he repeated, hating the bitterness clearly audible in his voice. “I guess that is not surprising.” Regulus hated James whole-heartedly, so much in fact that he wasn’t even aware of it on some levels, for taking over Sirius’ life and then taking Sirius away from him, for becoming his, Regulus’, replacement. Everyone said that these two Gryffindors were like brothers to each other. It still hurt whenever he heard it, and he hated that, too. “No offence, Lupin, but it doesn’t strike me as strange that my brother forgot to mention something like this, even to someone he calls a friend,” he added after a moment of silence, a bit louder, his attention once again focused on the older boy and voice back to his usual flatness. Then he just shrugged, back to being in control of his features – well, at least as much as he could in his current state of intoxication. “I wouldn’t expect him to ruin his mood by remembering my existence,” he answered finally.

His expression turned more thoughtful at the mention of parents, and he tried to figure out what he should say to that. He didn’t want Lupin’s sympathy, and he didn’t pity the other boy himself; as far as Regulus was concerned, it was a useless feeling. The subject in question was worth elaborating on, however, and he had drunk enough to just do that. “My parents usually don’t notice me, too, unless they think I had done something wrong,” he said, shrugging yet again. Truth be told, he didn’t think such behaviour was something unusual. “Most of the time I’m on my own. When I was younger, you know, just a kid, the house elves would take care of me, I practically grew up with them. I think I like it this way,” he repeated what he had made himself believe in over the years, “I can do whatever I want, as long as they don’t find out if it’s something they wouldn’t approve of. They don’t approve of a lot of things. But I’m good at hiding this stuff, and Kreacher usually helps me,” he laughed again, unable to hide the fondness he felt towards this particular house elf. Kreacher was more Regulus’ than his parents’, and these days it made the creature the closest thing the Black heir had to a friend – which was kind of pathetic actually, but he didn’t dwell on that too much.

[REMUS JOHN LUPIN]

Remus gave little regard to the comments about the cake and the house-elves. Cake was present, and that was what counted. He munched on it and all but ignored Regulus to start with. It wasn't on purpose, really, but he was very drunk and it wasn't occurring to him how much time was passing. Then again, if Regulus was drunk, he probably wasn't noticing the time either. When he had finished his cake, he began to look for more until a house-elf gave him a new plate.

Everything was going great. He was having his cake and eating it, too (disregarding that wasn't how the actual euphanism went). But then Regulus said something that made him choke. He coughed as he nearly inhaled the cake down his windpipe, and his wide golden eyes fixated right on Regulus. Those were words he wouldn't expect anyone to tell him, much less Regulus Black. He couldn't tell if the boy was serious or if he was just trying to make him uncomfortable, but Remus started to edge away from him, finding himself in a bit of an awkward predicament. If he looked weirded out or disgusted, it could be bad for him. But if he was accepting of it, who knew what could happen.

"That's.. er... nice," he decided on the words. Perhaps ignoring it was the best option possible. Remus often told James and Sirius to ignore taunts, and he reckoned he should take his own advice. He breathed a sigh of relief when the subject was changed. No, Remus didn't like the subject of romance and sex. He never really thought about either- well, he was a teenage boy, and hormones couldn't be helped, but he still gave it little regard when it came to his life. Sirius chided him, saying he had his nose in books far too much to see the "beauty" around him (something he was sure Sirius had been jesting about).

But the subject of his friends wasn't exactly the direction he wanted the conversation to turn in, either. "No, I suppose you wouldn't," he conceded, but he could tell the situation was not favorable to Regulus, so it would benefit them both to stray from it as soon as possible. Sirius was just... well, he was Sirius.

It didn't surprise him (which, he found a bit sad), that Regulus didn't receive much attention from his parents either. "Who is Kreacher?" he asked, not familiar with the name, but assuming correctly it was likely a house-elf. Remus didn't have that, either, and growing up, the neighborhood children had always poked fun at his scars- though, in Remus's case, even a compliment towards them made him shy away. Some thought it was "cool", but he saw nothing "cool" about lycanthropy.

He sighed and took another bite of cake. Chocolate would make everything better, and the sooner he could forget this conversation, the better. He had a transfiguration exam due... but he had studied for it all week. He just hoped he wouldn't be so hungover as to fall asleep during the test.

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TAG - Regulus
WORDS - 624
SONG - None
MUSE - Ahmazing whee~
NOTES - :3
CREDIT made by flyy~

[/size][/blockquote]

[mitzeh]

Mild curiosity never once left Regulus’ gaze as he watched the other boy. He hadn’t suspected that the Gryffindor had such a sweet tooth, but then again they had never actually eaten together before – and right now the way Lupin was devouring the cake left no way for wondering. The Slytherin almost laughed. “I’m not going to take your precious food away, Lupin,” he muttered, even though he was pretty sure that his words would go unnoticed. Apparently it took something really shocking to break Lupin’s food-induced trance – like mentioning sex, for example. This time Black found himself unable to hold back laughter, watching the older boy shy away from him. The movement might have worried him if he wasn’t so drunk, at this moment however it just seemed ridiculous.

“Yes, it was nice indeed,” he teased further, looking at Remus with amusement written all over his face. “Honestly, Lupin, you’re my brother’s friend; I would have never guessed you were such a prude.” It was surprising, really, although Regulus knew it was mostly his fault. He had automatically assumed that the Gryffindor, albeit quiet and very much the epitome of a bookworm on the outside, lived up to the Marauders’ reputation – very much like he himself was actually quite the opposite of what most people seemed to think of him, judging by his day to day behaviour. Those who didn’t know him well would say that Regulus was a calm and polite kind of boy, a great student with perfect manners, if a little bit too stuck up because of his upbringing, but a person of class nonetheless. They wouldn’t be wrong, no, but they wouldn’t be right either. All of sudden a wide, wicked grin appeared on the Slytherin’s face as he looked the other boy up and down – or, well, as much as he managed to without changing his current position. “Wait,” he said, with a trace of twisted glee that never forebode anything good, “Wait, wait, waaait. You’re either a homophobe or a virgin. I wouldn’t suspect you of being the former, so…?” Regulus rolled over to lay on his belly, so he could look Remus straight in the eye while their noses were almost touching. His grey eyes seemed brighter with joy, and the smile on his face made him look younger, too, and much more innocent than usual – even though the source of his amusement was far from that, but really, Lupin made teasing him way too easy.

The younger boy smiled again, this time less wide, yet much fonder. “He’s our house elf. Well, more like mine, you know,” he laughed. Regulus knew that Kreacher would never betray the Blacks, and that he would stay loyal to the boy’s parents under any circumstances; still, the fact that the creature was so fond of him in particular made the younger Black feel… less lonely, sometimes. It was a poor substitute for whatever it was that he needed in his life, but it was something. Being someone’s most important person was nice, even if that someone was just a house elf. “He’s also the only living creature in the world who cares about me,” the Slytherin added as an afterthought, his smile turning bitter, almost sad, even. He refused to acknowledge it, however; it was all Lupin’s fault for coming here while all Regulus had wanted was to be left alone so he could be pathetic and miserable without anyone seeing him in such state.