Chapter Text
Regulus bent down to inspect a particularly lush looking patch of lemongrass, perfect for a pepper-up potion for his coursework. He preferred to collect the ingredients he needed himself because they were more fresh and made higher quality potions.
He was also so disastrously bored at night that he desperately needed something to do.
Last summer holidays he had sneaked out of the house one right to explore muggle London, as he sometimes did - contrary to popular belief, he didn't actually think they were disgusting, per say, only a little unusual and often dim. His parents did think negatively of them, however, and he had to keep up pretenses if he didn't want to get disowned like his delinquent brother.
He had wandered into a pub and decided to try some muggle alcohol, bought using a fake ID he had charmed while back at Hogwarts. His attempt was successful and he had sat alone at the bar sipping some weird muggle beer when he was approached by a boy around his age (but who was clearly also using a fake ID, as he was also holding a beer).
He sat down beside Regulus and struck up a conversation, buying him more drinks and making blatantly flirtatious comments, until Regulus was left giggly and floppy on his bar stool.
Soon he offered to take Regulus home, seeing as he seemed too drunk to do so himself, and Regulus agreed so long as his parents didn't see. Instead of taking him home, however, the boy simply took him down the alley beside the pub and pressed him against the wall, hands on his waist and lips against his own.
At first, Regulus responded enthusiastically in kind, his drunken mind apparently more excited over finally being able to kiss another boy than the underlying disgust at himself that always came with that desire. But the boy was kissing languidly down his neck when suddenly he felt a sharp pain just above his collar bone.
He had yelped and attempted to push the other away but only got pressed more sharply into the wall, the pain in his neck only receding after Regulus was feeling lightheaded and faint, held upright only by the other body pressing into him. After, the boy had simply pulled away without a word and disappeared down the alley.
Somehow Regulus had managed to stumble his way home and through his window before his parents noticed him missing. Over the next few days, however, he noticed in himself some strange changes and, after nervously pulling A Guide To Recognizing Vampires from the shelves of the family library, he began to piece together what had happened.
Since then, he had returned to Hogwarts and was trying his hardest to hide his new nocturnal sleep schedule and thirst for blood, an endeavour that was currently successful but very fragile.
Back in the present, he decided the patch of lemongrass was good enough and picked himself a generous amount, slipping it into the pocket of his robes.
As he made to stand up, he felt the hairs raise on the back of his neck and he stiffened, listening. Turning slowly from where he was still crouched down, he managed to twist his body until he was face to face with a massive wolf.
Shit.
Werewolf.
Regulus’ breath caught in his throat. The thing was so close he could feel its breath on his face, its dark brown eyes staring right at him, calculating.
But that's all it was doing. Staring.
It didn't seem aggressive, like werewolves were supposedly meant to be - the moonlight bouncing gently from its coat was almost calming. It stood on all fours, huge like a moose with long hair at its face and tail but otherwise surprisingly sleek and well-kempt. He would find it beautiful, he thought, if he wasn't so scared.
Regulus’ next shuddering breath gently ruffled its face fur but the thing only twitched its nose dismissively and continued staring.
Why wasn't it attacking? Weren't werewolves disgustingly vicious creatures, hunting down people for sport without an ounce of regret in the morning? That's what it said in all the books and certainly in the newspapers.
Though, Regulus mused, he wasn't exactly human anymore. Maybe the thing was just staring so freakishly hard because it was trying to determine If he was worth the effort? Maybe it would only hurt him if he seemed timid and afraid… like he was doing now. Uh…
“Nice wolfy…” he murmured softly, the creature still so close he saw its fur twitch under his wavering breath once again. He also saw the slight curious tilt of its head in response to his voice, and was somewhat encouraged to continue his tact, whatever it was.
Slowly, so the wolf could see, he began to lift his right hand up to the thing's chin. Its eyes flickered down then back up to meet Regulus’ again. When his hand eventually reached the soft fur there, it lowered its head slightly to meet him.
His hand was shaking slightly as he gently moved his fingers along its cheek, his palm supporting the heavy head. After a few moments that same head jerked forward to bump into his chest, causing Regulus to stumble backwards slightly. He froze for a moment before continuing his petting with both hands, now moving more freely across the thing’s whole skull and feeling almost awkward.
Merlin help him, this was weird. He hoped this wasn't some trick to gain his trust before he was eaten. That would be a gruesome but also quite embarrassing death, to fall for an obvious trick that easily.
But then the thing lay down onto its back and stared up at him, panting in a way that almost looked like a smile and hitting its tail softly on the forest floor.
Well, it's not like he could say no to something that could turn around any moment and snatch his head off.
With a nervous chuckle, he moved closer so he could reach its belly, running his hands across the fur there as if it were an ordinary dog and listening to the thump, thump of the tail behind him.
This was so weird.
He was so lucky that whoever this thing was in the daytime wouldn't remember his strange survival tactics, or he may have to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment.
This thought was interrupted by the wolf suddenly lurching to its feet, nearly giving Regulus a heart attack. It wasn't on the attack though, it had simply leaped up to dive into a play bow, its attention now focused on a fat brown rat squatting before it.
Huh.
The rat didn't seem scared, simply giving a squeak before turning around and bumbling off into the bushes, followed enthusiastically by the werewolf towering over it. As its tail disappeared into the thicket he heard a quick dog-like bark, as though there was another creature there, before the sound of thundering paws running off into the distance.
For a moment Regulus was almost offended at being forgotten so easily. That is, before he realised what a stupid thought that was and instead nearly collapsed with relief, quickly scampering to his feet and heading back in the direction of the castle, nervously checking behind him every few seconds.
He was quite intrigued though, under the overwhelming fear and disbelief. The wolf stayed on his mind all through his journey back to his dorm, where he tiptoed around his friend's beds almost more carefully than he had treated the wolf.
He lay on top of his covers and stared at the ceiling, arms crossed over his stomach in an almost comically stereotypical vampire pose, and thought about the werewolf's behaviour until he heard Barty roll out of bed and head for the bathroom.
Then, he feigned waking up himself and began getting ready like any other school day.
.
.
.
Remus pushed into the great hall behind his friends, trying hard to hide his limp as they all settled down in their usual seats at the Gryffindor table.
According to his fellow marauders, the night had been a strange one.
They said he had suddenly run off, as if chasing a scent, and they couldn't get him to redirect. They chased him through the woods until they lost him, and eventually found him again in a clearing with none other than Regulus Black. Sirius said he was about to launch in and interrupt but James had held him back.
Apparently, Regulus had been petting him.
And Remus was letting him.
That is, until Peter intervened, and the marauders managed to finally redirect him back home before sunrise.
None of them could figure out any possible reason why Remus didn't kill - or worse, bite - him. Sirius thought maybe Regulus just had a way with animals and wanted to try the trick out himself on the next full moon, saying it may be genetic. Remus promptly shut him down.
Remus looked over to the Slytherin table now, baffled to see Regulus looking completely normal and unfazed (apart from looking quite tired, but he had been looking like that in recent years anyway).
The younger Black brother was chatting casually to his friends, picking very slowly at the lone slice of toast on his plate and nodding at something Crouch was saying.
Remus didn't understand how he could act so normal. If he found himself face-to-face with a werewolf on a full moon he would spend the next morning recovering from the sheer terror. That is, of course, in a scenario where Remus was not a werewolf himself.
Unfortunately, breakfast soon ended and he had to stop staring at Regulus in bewilderment, the two going their separate ways for classes.
He stayed on Remus’ mind all day.
Did he go out planning to find a werewolf? Why? The only reason he could think of was poaching; based on what little Remus knew of Regulus from Sirius’ description, it seemed like something he may do. But then why wasn't Remus dead? Also, what did he do to get Remus to let him pet him? A spell, maybe? But what possible one could it be? And again, what possible reason could he have for using it?
Remus got no work done that day, spending his lessons instead staring out the windows deep in thought, occasionally interrupted by a teacher noticing and re-demanding his attention.
His dreams that night were plagued by hazy memories of a boy’s trembling hand and trembling voice.