Regulus laughed, and for once it wasn't polite or bitter or forced—it was real. He had to admit, this was the wildest thing he'd ever done in either life.
Absolutely worth it.
Sure, it didn't compare to a HALO jump in altitude, but the adrenaline? Off the charts.
And he hadn't even used a parachute.
Why not?
Because parachutes don't have faith.
(Faith doesn't actually beat gravity, kids. Don't try this at home.)
Not that he hadn't prepared a backup. His Levitation Charm was so polished it was practically muscle memory—right hand, left hand, upside down, even underwater. If things went sideways, he'd just cast on himself.
Scrawny or not, in that moment Regulus felt ten feet tall. Cooler than Tom Cruise.
"Regulus—Regulus! How dare you—how dare you! Slytherin loses five points!" Professor Horace Slughorn, red-faced and walrus-like, conjured a parachute out of thin air and, before any other teacher could say a word, docked his own house.
"Good heavens—Merlin's beard! What were you thinking? Terrifying!" The Slytherin Head of House genuinely couldn't decide whether to scold or to weep with relief. One Sirius Black was already too much. Now Regulus too?
Madam Hooch, meanwhile, had summoned a Nimbus 1000, pulled off a professional Sloth Grip Roll on the dive, then landed with a perfect Arresto Momentum to slow herself at the last instant. She looked so sharp doing it that even Regulus felt compelled to salute her with respect.
At the same time, Hogwarts' reigning heartthrob had his eyes locked on him. Sirius couldn't believe it—his shy, quiet, borderline timid little brother had just thrown himself off the Astronomy Tower like it was nothing.
Maybe all that timidity had been because of him? Maybe Hogwarts had sparked something new in Regulus? The thought slammed into Sirius's head over and over, leaving him reeling.
The truth was, nobody yet knew that "silent, but willing to go big" was basically Regulus Black's defining trait.
For once, Sirius didn't know whether to beg their parents to send Regulus a Howler—or just give him a thumbs-up and say, That's my brother.
And of course, in classic Hogwarts fashion, not a single professor asked why Regulus had done it. Because by now, they'd all learned the same lesson: children rarely needed reasons.
"Detention," Slughorn puffed, dabbing sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. "My office, starting tonight. Six o'clock every evening, one week." Thank Merlin he's alive, he repeated to himself.
"Yes, Professor." Regulus nodded brightly, eyes gleaming. One-on-one time with a senior professor? That was practically a reward.
Was that… eagerness? Slughorn squinted at him, then shot a suspicious glance at Sirius, as if the brothers were plotting something.
Sirius, caught in the crossfire, looked helplessly at Remus. James, equally clueless, turned to Remus too.
Remus, calm as ever, just raised an eyebrow.
Of course. Remus always knew how to play it cool.
…
The Leap of Faith had worked better than he could've dreamed.
"That's him—that's Regulus. Sirius's Slytherin brother."
By the time he was heading to Charms that afternoon, the whispers followed him down every corridor. Regulus carried himself lightly, almost buoyant, as he arrived at the classroom door.
Charms was one of his favourites. And Professor Filius Flitwick? Easily his top choice for best teacher.
"Hey, Black—how'd you land?" a Gryffindor boy blurted out, someone who'd never spoken to him before.
Even Gryffindors were talking to him now?
Not surprising, really. These weren't peaceful times. The Dark Lord cast his shadow over Hogwarts, Slytherin was seen as his training ground, and Gryffindor was breeding the next generation of phoenixes. Ice that thick between houses wasn't easy to break.
"Like this—leviosa!" Regulus stepped half into the room and flicked his wand. A massive suit of armour in the corridor floated neatly into the air before he lowered it down, gentle as a feather.
"Mind your manners, young man," the armour grumbled faintly.
Regulus bowed, left hand sweeping back, right hand pressed to his chest. Outwardly, he said nothing, keeping his mask of aloof reserve firmly in place.
Truth was, that Levitation Charm had cost him ten days of practice in the Room of Requirement, endless drills in his dormitory—even dreaming about it.
"Wow. Amazing!" The Gryffindor boy looked genuinely impressed. He could barely manage a teapot, and Regulus had just lifted a suit of armour like it was nothing.
He'd definitely need more practice.
"Incredible control, Mr. Black!" Flitwick squeaked, appearing in the doorway with a grin. "Five points to Slytherin!"
"Thank you, Professor!"
The students filed in and sat. With summer holidays around the corner, Flitwick's good mood practically radiated.
"Today's lesson will be very useful. Open The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1—we'll be learning the Unlocking Charm and the Locking Spell. And today, we'll try something fun."
At the word fun, both lions and snakes perked up.
"Each of you has a box. Gryffindors—practice the Unlocking Charm. Slytherins—you'll focus on the Locking Spell. At the end, we'll pair off and see which magic proves stronger. Next class, we'll swap."
Flitwick twinkled as he spoke, utterly unconcerned that he was fuelling inter-house rivalry.
!?
Now that was clever. Nothing motivated kids like competition. No wonder Flitwick was a teaching genius.
The classroom buzzed, every student eager to prove themselves.
Regulus examined his box carefully, ideas forming fast. His partner turned out to be the same Gryffindor boy from the hallway—David Godger. From what Regulus remembered, David had a curious streak a mile wide.
"Black, how'd you practice your Levitation Charm? Any tips?" David asked.
"Gestures need to be precise and decisive. But more important—you've got to picture the result in your head. Clear understanding of the situation. Absolute belief in the outcome," Regulus said after a pause, distilling what he'd learned.
David nodded thoughtfully, then asked, "What's the heaviest thing you've managed?"
"About a hundred and fifty pounds. And call me Regulus."
…
By the end of class, David hadn't managed to break into Regulus's locked box. But he wasn't alone—nobody had.
When Flitwick tried, his Unlocking Charm clicked the lock… but the box stayed stubbornly shut.
"Hm?" He lifted it and instantly noticed—it was far heavier than before.
"Brilliant Transfiguration!" Flitwick announced, splitting the box with a flick of his wand. The inside, once hollow, was now solid wood. The lock had worked, but the box itself had become a block.
Little Black was proving interesting indeed.
…
Dinner in the Great Hall. Candles floated overhead, light spilling across the four long tables. The teachers' table was empty.
Regulus, surrounded by curious classmates, made his way to the Slytherin table—only to find Sirius half-standing, lounging against Gryffindor's bench, eyes locked on him.
Even the third-year girls were sneaking glances.
Regulus sighed inwardly. If looks were justice, Sirius was justice incarnate.
And yet, for the first time since Christmas, Regulus walked straight toward his brother. The younger Slytherins around him hesitated, not daring to follow. The hall quieted slightly, heads turning their way.
The two of them had grown up side by side—Sirius forever dragging along his "cowardly little brother," part mocking, part protective. Their relationship hadn't been bad when they first arrived at Hogwarts. But pressure from home, and the wedge of rival houses, had driven them apart.
Sirius had his pride. Regulus had his reserve. The distance only grew.
This, though? This was the first time Regulus had approached him at Hogwarts. And Sirius couldn't help the flicker of hope.
He looked at the golden boy of Hogwarts, who one day would sacrifice his freedom for the sake of a godson and his friends. A story beloved by many, but unbearably heavy for someone so bright.
"Brother." Two lifetimes of emotion distilled into a single word.
Something in Regulus's eyes was so calm, so steady, it unnerved Sirius. And yet—it felt like something precious had returned.
"Reg—you… be careful," Sirius managed finally. Even he barely believed himself. The smirk tugging at Regulus's lips didn't help.
"Oi, did you use a backhand Levitation Charm? What's it like, jumping the Tower?" James Potter butted in, barely containing his excitement. "Hey—uh, Regulus, right? You know me, obviously, but still—James. James Potter."
"Remus Lupin," added the boy beside him with quiet dignity.
"Regulus Black. Pleased to meet you." Regulus shook both their hands, solemn as ever.
Sirius couldn't stop the small smile tugging at his mouth. For all his daring, Regulus was still the overly serious, prematurely old-fashioned little brother he remembered.