Chapter 12: Evans and Snape
James's eyes widened, mouth parting in a silent, stupid sort of shock. Remus sucked in a sharp breath. Peter made a small yelp and immediately clapped a hand over his own lips, as if the sound had betrayed him.
Sirius stood in the doorway, rigid. His fingers curled into fists without him noticing. For a heartbeat he wanted to draw his wand, to step in and turn the moment into something he could control.
He stopped himself.
Helping an outsider against his own brother, whether they won or lost, would look wrong. It would feel worse. And he knew it would not change the result anyway. Joining the scuffle would only make the humiliation spread.
Severus Snape stared at the suspended ribbon of red light. Then, very slowly, he turned his head to look at Regulus.
Lily's hand was still hooked around Snape's sleeve, but she seemed to have forgotten she was holding him at all. She stood frozen, green eyes fixed on the spell as though it might bite.
Regulus finally lifted his head.
He looked at James with the same calm he might have used for a wardrobe or a chair. Then his gaze shifted to the captured spell. His right hand still held his quill. His left held his wand lightly, as if it were an afterthought.
He flicked it once.
The red light dulled, colour draining as though it were being bled out. It went from vivid to dim, from solid to thin, then began to break apart like ice melting in warm water. The strip of spellwork decomposed into countless tiny specks of red light.
The specks floated, swirled, and scattered, drifting through the air in a slow, visible spiral before they vanished without sound.
It was not hurried. It was not dramatic. It was clinical. Everyone saw every stage of it.
Then the wand disappeared from Regulus's hand. His left hand returned to the desk. He lowered his eyes and continued writing, quill scratching steadily across the page.
As if nothing at all had happened.
Silence sat in the compartment for ten full seconds.
James still held his wand out, posture locked, arm stiff as stone. His eyes remained wide behind his glasses, staring at empty air that no longer held anything.
"You…" His voice caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing. "What did you do?"
Regulus did not answer. He did not even glance up again.
James's fingers tightened around his wand as he fought with himself. Anger rose, sharp and hot, fuelled by humiliation and Regulus's complete disregard. His instincts screamed at him to say something, anything, to claw back control of the moment.
But he did not lash out.
Because James Potter, for all his arrogance and love of attention, was not stupid.
He had read the appendix in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One. He remembered a short line most first years skimmed past.
In theory, a sufficiently powerful wizard could dismantle the spellwork of an inferior caster through magical interference.
The more you knew, the more terrifying the line became.
What James had just seen was not a clever trick. It was not a first year getting lucky. It was advanced control, precise and deliberate. It was something beyond his imagination, performed by a boy who had not even been Sorted yet.
And that boy was sitting there, writing, as though James were no more important than dust.
James's grip tightened until the wood pressed painfully into his palm. He wanted to spit an insult. He wanted a laugh from Remus, a nervous snort from Peter, something to prove he had not been cowed.
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
"What was that?" Remus asked softly, shifting so he stood slightly in front of James, as if shielding him from embarrassment.
"It wasn't a spell," Sirius said, stepping fully into the compartment. His eyes settled on Regulus.
He had not expected Regulus to be this far along already. He understood what it meant, and it left a knot of thoughts he could not name properly.
Maybe it was a family secret he had never been allowed to see. Maybe it was something else entirely.
"What do you mean, it wasn't a spell?" James snapped, turning on Sirius, voice sour.
"It means you can't beat him," Sirius replied, forcing his tone into something flat and controlled. He did not want to sound like he was defending Regulus. He did not want to sound like he was betraying James.
He added, quieter, "At least not right now. So don't start things with him."
James looked from Sirius to Regulus, then to the place where the red light had been.
His jaw worked as if he were chewing words he could not swallow.
In the end, he said nothing.
Regulus finally looked up at Sirius. The smallest nod followed, barely more than a shift of acknowledgement, and then Regulus lowered his head again.
Sirius exhaled once. James backed towards the door as if leaving first would make it look like a choice. Remus guided Peter out with a hand at his shoulder.
They went.
The corridor outside was not empty.
Lily Evans and Severus Snape still stood there.
Lily had released Snape's sleeve, but she remained close beside him. Her eyes kept flicking between Regulus and the space where the spell had vanished, as if trying to decide whether what she saw made sense.
Snape's expression had turned darker than usual. He stared at Regulus with open wariness, like someone watching a wand tip that might move without warning.
"Are you all right?" Lily asked first.
Regulus lifted his head, gaze moving over both of them.
"Thank you for coming," he said, polite and even. "Although strictly speaking, Mr Snape is the one who deserves it. The spell was aimed at him."
Lily blinked, caught off guard by the blunt fairness of it. "No, I mean… it's nothing. We just…"
The corner of Snape's mouth twitched. He did not bother with reassurance.
"How did you do that?" he demanded.
Regulus did not answer immediately. Instead he rose from his seat and offered a formal introduction, as though he were choosing to place structure over tension.
"Before I answer, we should probably know one another properly. I am Regulus Black."
"Black?" Lily's eyes widened. "You're Sirius Black's younger brother?"
Regulus inclined his head once.
Lily seemed to steady herself, then extended the basic courtesies the way she had been taught, even if she had learned them in a Muggle kitchen rather than an old drawing room.
"I'm Lily Evans," she said, voice turning slightly more formal. "Second year, Gryffindor. This is Severus Snape, second year, Slytherin."
Snape's lips pressed into a thin line. He gave a stiff, minimal nod.
Regulus nodded back. "I know your names."
Lily blinked. "You do?"
"Professor Slughorn mentioned you," Regulus replied, as casually as if he were discussing the weather.
"He said Hogwarts has two second years whose talent in Potions far exceeds their year. Lily Evans and Severus Snape. He suggested that if I had the chance, I should speak with you."
Lily's cheeks flushed at once, pleased in spite of herself. Her eyes brightened and a sincere smile pulled at her mouth.
"He said that? Professor Slughorn really said that?"
Snape's reaction was sharper and more complicated. His chin lifted slightly, pride flickering, but his eyes stayed guarded.
He knew how praise could come with hidden hooks. Especially in Slytherin. Especially when you did not have the right name.
"So you already know who we are," Snape said, voice dry, tugging the conversation back to what mattered to him. "Fine. Then tell me what we just saw. That was not something a first year should be able to do, Mr Black."
Regulus met his gaze. He understood what he was looking at.
A boy who was sensitive and insecure, proud and hungry, wary of pure bloods yet desperate to be acknowledged by them. Contradictions packed into a thin frame.
Regulus answered without condescension.
"Spell analysis and magical interference. The principle is not complicated. It simply requires extremely precise control."
And, though he did not say it aloud, it required perception.
"How precise?" Snape pressed.
Regulus noted the lack of manners and decided it was simply part of the package. Snape's value outweighed his rough edges, and Regulus did not mind sharp tools.
"Precise enough that most adult wizards cannot manage it," Regulus said calmly. "I practised for a long time."
Lily looked at him with open curiosity. "How old were you when you started practising magic?"
"As far back as I can remember," Regulus replied lightly. "My family has a library."
The Black family library was famous, and ancient families took pride in their collections. Lily, raised without such a thing, accepted the explanation without question. She nodded, and her expression softened into something warmer.
"So you like studying too."
"Studying is necessary," Regulus agreed. "For a wizard, knowledge is power."
Snape's brow twitched. He glanced at Regulus again, and a thin thread of recognition replaced a fraction of his earlier wariness.
"Which house do you intend to go to?" Snape asked.
"Slytherin," Regulus said at once. "It is a family tradition."
Lily's expression dimmed, only for a moment. She looked at Snape, then back at Regulus, and chose her words carefully.
"Slytherin isn't… bad. Severus is there."
At the same time, another thought hovered behind her eyes, unspoken but loud. There are people there who hate people like me.
Regulus understood anyway. He gave a small nod.
"Every house has people worth learning from," he said, "and people not worth wasting time on."
Lily's face brightened again. She smiled, relief and agreement mixing together.
"You're right. So… see you at the Sorting Ceremony?"
"See you at the Sorting Ceremony," Regulus said.
Lily tugged Snape gently by the sleeve. "We should go back, Severus."
Snape gave Regulus one last look, as if committing him to memory, then nodded once and turned away. Lily lifted a hand in a small wave before following.
The compartment settled into quiet again.
Regulus sat down, lifted his quill, and continued to write as the train carried them towards the castle.