May I request a Regulus x Reader where the reader is a confident and snarky Ravenclaw who's the sibling of Alice Forestue
wing woman - r.b. x reader
pairing: regulus black x fem!reader
summary: regulus black is dragged to a gryffindor party and runs into a ravenclaw girl who catches his eye
word count: 2477
tw: underage drinking
a/n: hope you enjoy!! it’s a little short but i did my best. this is unedited and not beta-read so hopefully its still okay!!
REGULUS BLACK HAD A VERY selective friend group. Consisting of only the other Slytherin boys he roomed with plus the few others in his year, he liked to think he kept his circled quite closed. He wasn’t a social butterfly, nor was he so introverted to have no friends, but he often found that he saw no point to the whole thing. He’d end up having to spend his time with only Pureblooded Slytherins anyways, and no doubt his parents would arrange a marriage with a girl from the Sacred 28, so everything else didn’t really matter. As soon as Sirius became a Gryffindor, they drifted apart. It only proved his point.
His dorm-mates consisted of Icarus Nott, Evan Rosier, and Miles Boyle (a boy whose family wasn’t a part of the Sacred 28, but was Pureblooded nonetheless). Icarus and Evan, as Sacred 28 members, shared a lot of the same traits and values as Regulus, and he often spent time with them when the families would host extravagant balls and other similar events. Miles, however, while being Pureblood, was a little bit different. His parents were what Regulus’s parents might refer to as... radicals. Meaning, they had no problems with associating with Half-Bloods or non-Slytherins or Muggleborns, meaning Miles was the same. And that meant Regulus was dragged into the mix.
As time went on, Miles became very good friends with a girl named Dorcas Meadowes. They’d spend time together, and occasionally Regulus would pass by Dorcas as she left their dorm and he entered. Regulus really didn’t care what Miles and Dorcas were doing, as long as his bed stayed clean and he slept peacefully. But it wasn’t until Miles got an invite to a Gryffindor party that it became an issue.
“Please,” Miles was begging at this point, his mousy brown hair drooping lamely over his brows. “I need a wing-man. And god knows the others won’t come with me.”
“I don’t have any interest,” Regulus said blatantly, raising a dark eyebrow. “Besides, I’d get murdered if I took one step into the Gryffindor common room.”
“No, you won’t,” Miles rolled his hazel eyes. “Please, Black. It’s only for a few hours and we have an invite, so they can’t get mad at you.”
“What do you mean, we have an invite?”
Miles pursed his lips. “I already told Dorcas you were coming tonight.”
Regulus groaned. “You’re joking.”
“Please?” Miles put his hands together as though he were praying. “I’ll pay you.”
There was a pregnant pause. “Fifteen galleons.”
Miles scoffed. “Five galleons.”
“Ten?”
“You don’t need this money, you’re rich!” Miles huffed. “Seven galleons. Okay?”
Regulus sighed and ran his hands through his jet-black hair. “Okay, deal. But you owe me.”
“Of course I do,” Miles clapped his hands and grinned before digging into his pocket for the galleons. “You’re the man.”
“You irritate me, Boyle,” Regulus shook his head to himself but accepted the money nonetheless. “To no end.”
“You love me.”
That night, Regulus stood before his reflection in the mirror and sighed. He wore his typical black slacks and white dress shirt over his pale chest, his green-and-silver tie tied pristinely over the buttons of his shirt. He turned the sink’s faucet on, put some water on his hand, and ran said hand through his hair, fluffing it up. Why was he nervous? Oh, Merlin, the water made his hair worse. He had no gel or other product. He’d look like an idiot. He looks like an idiot.
“Hurry up, mate,” Miles called from outside of the bathroom. “Told Dorcas we’d be there five minutes ago.”
Regulus sighed, rolling his pale gray eyes before leaving the bathroom, a defeated expression on his face. Miles glanced at him and chuckled before approaching him.
“Turn that frown upside-down,” he grinned, ruffling up his hair for him. “God, do you have to look so formal all the time? Unbutton some buttons or loosen that tie for god’s sake.”
“I don’t want to look like a—”
“Like a what?”
Regulus didn’t say anything, scrunching up his nose and fiddling with his tie.
“Okay, y’know what?” Miles stepped forward and unbuttoned the first three buttons of Regulus’s shirt. Regulus swatted his hands away. “Okay, fine, do it yourself, then!”
Regulus huffed but loosened his tie only slightly. Miles nodded his eyes, narrowing his gaze as though to analyze his friend. “Better. Let’s go.”
The pair of them left the dungeons, Miles blabbering about his plan to woo over all of Dorcas’s friends so she would agree to be his official girlfriend instead of being in the weird situationship they were currently in. Regulus was too busy trying to resist the urge to button his shirt up to the collar.
Entering the Gryffindor’s common room made Regulus want to shrivel up into a ball and die. With it’s bright scarlet and yellow decorations, the loud music, and heavy smell of beer, he felt immensely out of place. Miles patted him on the shoulder.
“Chin up,” he muttered. “Let’s find Dorcas and avoid your brother.”
Regulus felt himself grow pale. Oh god, he thought. His brother.
They quickly found Dorcas, who adorned a neon pink skirt and bright green shirt, her coiled hair teased out into an afro that made Miles practically start drooling. Regulus stood awkwardly behind him when the pair hugged hello, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his black slacks, his eyes surveying the room until they stopped on the girl standing behind Dorcas.
Miles and Dorcas were talking, they might have even said something to him, but Regulus had already zoned out; the girl behind Dorcas was wearing a short black pleated skirt, her white dress shirt unbuttoned more than it should have been, and a blue and bronze Ravenclaw tie loosely draped around her neck. Regulus blinked, staring.
“Hey,” Miles harshly elbowed him. Regulus’s eyes snapped to Miles, then to Dorcas, and back to Miles. His face flashed with a scorching heat, his cheeks no doubt turning a bright pink. “This is Dorcas.”
“Yes, I know,” he said. Miles narrowed his brows, and Regulus cleared his throat. He offered Dorcas a nod of his head. “Hello.”
“Hiya,” Dorcas said sweetly, ignoring Regulus’s standoffishness. “I’m glad you two could make it. You want somethin’ to drink, or what?”
“Do I?” Miles asked rhetorically as Regulus stared off at the Ravenclaw girl again, who wiped her lip after taking a sip of her drink. Dorcas lead them to where the drinks were out on one of the tables, and handed them both a bottle. Miles popped his open and took a large swing, and Regulus only glanced at the label. The sticker label had been rubbed off and it now read, “PURE FUEL!”
“Sorry, what is this?” Regulus asked Dorcas loudly over the booming music. She shrugged.
“It’s probably Firewhisky mixed with the dirty Butterbeer stuff,” she told him. “I dunno, some seventh years whipped them up. Y/N might know what in it.”
“Who’s Y/N?”
Dorcas pointed behind her to the Ravenclaw girl from earlier. Said girl glanced over, noticing the two of them looking at her, and she gave a wave. Regulus gulped and ran a hand through his hair as she came sauntering over.
“Hi,” she said, grinning. Turning to Dorcas, she asked, “What’s the pointing for?”
“He was asking what was in these,” Dorcas held up a bottle. “You know?”
“Oh, yeah,” Y/N nodded, taking another sip. Her lipstick smeared a bit. “Firewhisky and some muggle Vodka... Ciroc, it’s called. Doesn’t taste great, but get’s the job done, no?”
Dorcas laughed. “There’s your answer.”
Regulus glanced down at his bottle and grimaced. Y/N reached out and snatched it from him. When he glanced back up at her flushed face, she said, “You don’t have to drink this... we have spiked butterbeer, too, if you’d prefer that? Or just normal butterbeer if you’re not a drinker.”
“I’ll have the former, thanks,” Regulus muttered, avoiding her bright e/c eyes. She strutted behind the table, bending over to grab a bottle from underneath the tablecloth that hid anything underneath. She handed it to him, his pale fingers brushing hers as he took it from her and popped it open.
“Hey, aren’t you Sirius’s younger brother?” Y/N asked him, tilting her head to the side like a curious puppy. Regulus pressed his lips into a thin line.
“Yes,” he said plainly. “Why?”
“Just curious. Thought you looked familiar,” Y/N eyed him, glancing at his eyes, then to his lips, then to his eyes again. She was awfully pretty, Regulus thought, before he clenched his jaw and glanced at his drink. “I’ve never seen you at these things, though.”
“I don’t go to parties,” he told her. “Unless they’re Slytherin.”
She scoffed. “I thought you might say something like that. In that case, you’re seriously missing out.”
“Yeah?” Regulus glanced about the room and shrugged. “Doesn’t feel like much.”
Y/N laughed, shaking her head a bit. “It’s still early. Most people aren’t even drunk yet.”
Regulus said nothing to this, only taking a sip of his drink and glancing around the room, avoiding Y/N’s wandering eyes that were dancing across him. He could see her staring at him through his peripheral vision, his neck heating up at the thought of it. On the surface he felt guilty for letting a Ravenclaw and potentially not-Pureblood make him feel such a way, but deep down in his chest he didn’t care. She was beautiful.
“Oh, there’s your brother,” she nodded her head over towards the other side of the room, where Sirius and his best friend James Potter came strutting in, a flock of Gryffindors at their sides. Regulus' eyes widened.
“Bollocks,” he cursed under his breath, stepping back, partially behind Y/N.
“What, scared?” she asked jokingly. Regulus grimaced.
“I don’t want him seeing me here,” he muttered. “He’ll probably want me kicked out. Or cursed on the spot.”
Y/N frowned. “Well, then, let’s go to a different part of the room.”
“What do you mean?” Regulus gestured to the entirety of the place. When he turned his head back and forth, he could feel the delay of the world; he hadn’t gotten drunk in a while, and God knows he was a light weight. “The whole bloody place is one open room!”
“No, come with me,” she beckoned him, her hand grazing his elbow to guide him before she dropped her arm. Regulus followed her like a puppy dog, glancing back at Sirius only once before turning back. She lead him to a small part of the common room where there were a few tables with other students sitting and chatting or making out. “He probably won’t see you back here. Even if he brings someone to snog, he’ll be distracted.”
“Hm,” Regulus glanced around. He’d never admit it, but the Gryffindor common room was kind of nice. Warm.
“You’re welcome,” Y/N scoffed, taking a swig from her drink. Regulus turned red.
“Thank you,” he bowed his head. She eyed him, smirking.
“So formal,” she giggled. “Have we spoken before, Regulus?”
Woah, okay, first names, he thought. He wasn’t used to that. Besides, he didn’t even know her last name so it wasn’t like he could call her anything but Y/N at the moment.
“I don’t think so,” he said, shaking his head. “I think I’d remember if we had.”
“Oh, yeah?” she asked, raising a brow. He gulped. “Why’s that?”
Regulus took another large swing from the bottle in his hands.
“Because,” he started, unsure if he should finish. He eyed her, his grey eyes running up and down her face. “You’re quite charming.”
“Aw,” she grinned, flashing her teeth. He might have been making things up, but he could have sworn he saw her cheeks tinge light pink. “You flatter me.”
He swirled the bottle in his hand, noticing it was almost empty. He needed a stronger drink if he was going to keep up this flirting thing, he thought. But for that, he needed to go into the other room. With Sirius. His brother.
“You want another drink?” she asked. Had she read his mind? “I need one, too. C’mon, let’s go.”
Y/N grabbed him by the wrist before linking arms with him, walking with him into the other room. He couldn’t spot Sirius, but he decided he didn’t need to. He was too preoccupied with getting a stronger drink and hoping to god that Y/N couldn’t feel how hot he was getting with her hanging on his arm.
“Fire-whiskey?” she asked him. He nodded, taking the bottle from him. He clicked it open with his thumb and took a large swig. “Good boy! No more butterbeer for this guy.”
His face turned crimson from the praise, he was sure of it. He sent her a quirk of his lips, eyeing the flush of her cheeks and the brightness of her e/c eyes. She was something, wasn’t she? Not bad for a Ravenclaw.
“Fortescue!” came a booming voice from behind him. Regulus whipped his head around and felt the world delay again. It wasn’t, however, delayed enough for him to realize it was Sirius’s voice. “And my dearest brother.”
“Hello,” Y/N said, and it was then that Regulus realized she was a Fortescue. At least now he knew her last name.
Sirius sauntered forwards towards Regulus, narrowing his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
Regulus clenched his jaw and opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N beat him to it.
“He’s with me,” she said nonchalantly. “Got a problem?”
“I didn’t know you were friends with my brother,” Sirius deadpanned.
“Yeah, well,” Regulus felt Y/N snuggle up closer to him. “Now you know.”
Sirius glanced at Regulus again. “You’re lucky, mate.”
“Sure am,” Regulus rolled his eyes. “Nice way to greet your family.”
Sirius glared at him and opened his mouth, presumably to yell either a profanity or spew some crap about how they’re not family anymore, but James Potter grabbed ahold of his arm. “Not the time, mate,” he muttered.
Sirius grumbled and let James pull him away.
“Sorry, Y/N,” James flashed a charming grin in her direction, and she smiled back. Regulus pulled her closer.
“Well, that’s that!” Y/N shrugged. “Now we don’t have to worry about him.”
“Good that,” Regulus nodded to himself. Y/N frowned.
“Don’t listen to him,” she said seriously. He glanced down at her, staring into those bright eyes of hers. “Really. You can do whatever you want and hang out with whoever you want.”
“And I am,” Regulus gave a half-smile to her, to which she beamed.
“Aw,” she nudged his shoulder. “Well, I’m happy to be your wing-woman.”
Regulus offered a real smile this time. “Thanks.”
“In the meantime,” she began, glancing up at him coyly, to which he nervously gulped and felt the blood rush down his body. “Any other ideas for the night?”
“Why were we so full of hope in those days? Looking back, I see so clearly that violence was worsening. Living through that time, we didn’t see that. Until it was all we could see.”
