The Story of Regulus Black - Years 1-4

LXXXVII. Late Talks and Long Train Rides

Chapter Notes: I dropped out of French after one year, so I'm using google translate for most of the French dialogue. If any of it is wrong, I apologize.

They didn't talk.

For the rest of that night, they didn't talk. No hello, no goodbye, no waves, no glances, no accidental bumping into one another. Nothing.

It seemed like they had taken 2 steps forward, and 5 gigantic leaps back.

Throughout the entirety of the after party for France's victory, the closest they got to talking was Regulus speaking with Narcissa and Christian speaking with Matthieu a few feet away. It was agonizing - being that close to the person who Regulus longed to speak with, but not having enough bravery to say it.

And so, they both went to bed at half past one in the morning with only one thing in common; they each fell asleep thinking about the other.

However, Regulus's sleep did not last long. He awoke very early in the morning - much too early for his liking - trembling from a nightmare that had not plagued his sleep since his departure from Hogwarts.

He looked around the room desperately, his limbs tangled up in the blankets, breathing heavy, panic coursing through every vein. He felt trapped in the enclosed, dark room - he needed to get out.

Regulus struggled out of the bed, the blankets making it very difficult to do much of anything. When he had finally freed himself, he slipped on a pair of shoes as quickly as he could, and he left. He was sure to be as quiet as possible - he did not need Narcissa coming out and seeing him in his panicked state.

He made his way through the room that was far too big to ever logically be hidden within a tent, and he stepped out into the night beyond.

He took a deep breath, the fresh air filling his lungs and bringing him just a bit of relief. He could feel his nerves slowly receding, the shaking of his hands gradually dying down. He closed his eyes, and he focused on his breathing, and the idea that someone could be watching him had not even crossed his mind at all.

"Are you alright?" That same, wonderful French accent drawled.

Regulus opened his eyes, swallowing back what he could of his anxiety and paying no more mind to the unsteadiness of his breath. Christian was standing on the path before their campsites, a mixture of curiosity and worry on his face.

Regulus swallowed again, though this time, it was less from anxiety and more from the sudden dryness that had overcome his mouth at the mere sight of Christian. He took a few steps forward, crossing his arms over his chest to conceal the quivering of his hands.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Regulus said, the unsteadiness of his voice giving away the panic that had yet to completely go away.

Christian tilted his head. When Regulus reached him, he didn't hesitate to grab one of Regulus's hands and hold it in his own. Though, this was less of a romantic gesture and more of an observation of the shaking. Christian frowned, and he met eyes with Regulus. "You are not alright." He said.

Regulus didn't bother to pull his hand from Christian's. He enjoyed the feeling of their hands together, no matter the circumstance. "I'm fine. It was just... just a bad dream." He admitted.

Christian's frown deepened, and his eyes traced Regulus's cheeks. "You have been crying?"

Regulus furrowed his brow - he hadn't been crying! Or, at least, he hadn't noticed any tears on his face when he woke up. Then again, he had been in such a frantic state that they would probably have been easy to miss. Christian kept one hand holding Regulus's, but he brought the other hand up to Regulus's face.