Chapter Text
The first time Ezra Tamp went stargazing was on his twenty-first birthday. It just so happened to be the same day that Regulus Black died.
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“And what about that one?” Ezra pointed up to a row of stars that in the sky, to a constellation spanning several stars long, with a cluster at the end.
“That one’s hydra,” Eliza said. “Do you see that cluster there?” She pointed up at the constellation, at the clump of five stars at the end.
The one right below it is Alphard — that’s the heart of Hydra.”
“What’s the constellation under it?” Ezra asked, pointing to the space below Hydra, to the stars making up a small triangle.
Eliza hummed. “That’s Canis Major. Those three there,” she pointed to the triangle, “make up the head of the dog, the bright one below it is called Sirius,” she explained. “The constellation carries down all the way through those two at the bottom that make up the tail.”
Ezra took a moment to piece together the constellation, finding the shape of the body, Sirius at its throat down to the tip of its tail.
“What about the one above it?” Ezra asked next, finding the activity surprisingly enjoyable. He had never thought to stargaze before, had never relented when Eliza invited him out — not until tonight. Ezra was happy to look up for a shooting star or a lunar eclipse, but to just lay under the night sky and find shapes in the stars? It had never felt like his thing, but he found he was actually enjoying himself tonight.
“Above Hydra?” Eliza clarified, looking over at Ezra. They were lying side by side in the grass at the back of his apartment complex, only a handful of inches apart. Ezra had a feeling this would be one of the last times he would see Eliza with her moving away to college so soon.
They had grown up next door to each other, a friendship of convenience blooming into something special, into late night whispers and experimental touches, into first kisses and favored memories.
He was dreading their goodbye, watching her pack up her car and move away from him indefinitely, but he was so proud of her. So excited for all that she would become — for the mark she would leave on this world.
“Do you see that really bright star?” Eliza asked, reminding Ezra of his question as she pointed up to the star just above hydra.
Ezra nodded. “Yeah, is that part of it?”
“Mhm, it’s the Leo constellation. That bright one is called Regulus.”
“It’s beautiful,” Ezra breathed. The more he saw — the more Eliza taught him — the more he wondered why he had never tried this before.
The two of them lay there for hours, pointing up at the dark sky, watching as it faded and dulled until it was blue once more, night making its way into dawn before they finally parted ways. Ezra headed back inside while Eliza drove back to her parents’ house on the other side of town.
It took Ezra all of five minutes to fall asleep once he was in bed, settling into a fitful slumber full of stars and house parties and pick-up sports games. He tossed and turned, falling into dream after dream after memory.
“Reggie, spike it!” Sirius shouted as Regulus ran toward the net, hands clasped in front of his waist as he prepared to bump the volleyball. He picked up his pace, pushing himself to run faster, even as the sand slowed him down, feet sinking with every step. He raised a fist as he jumped up and hit the ball as hard as he could, spiking it down and watching as it hit the sand in front of James.
Cheers erupted from behind Regulus, Sirius whooping loudly as James groaned on the other side of the net.
“That’s what you get for all of your shit-talking, James!” Regulus taunted. James was always so confident, so self-assured, that it often bordered on offensive.
James threw his head back and laughed, and oh, he was so beautiful. James always took Regulus’ breath away, always made it hitch a bit when he smiled the way he did, laughed that genuine belly laugh.
“Fuck off, Reg,” James said, eyes still bright. He dipped underneath the volleyball net that was buried into the sand and wrapped an arm around Regulus’ neck before digging the knuckles of his other hand into his scalp. “Lucky shot.”
“A lucky shot ?” Regulus repeated, indignantly as he pushed away from James. He loved being friends with James, loved that Sirius and his group always let him tag along, but sometimes when James touched him, it sent fire through his veins.
It set him absolutely aflame with a desire that he wasn’t yet ready to voice.
Maybe he would never be ready to voice it.
“Mhm,” James hummed, letting Regulus free. “Let that one get by me,” he said with a wink.
Regulus sputtered, shaking his head. He knew James was just fucking with him now. It was a perfectly timed spike, even if it hadn’t been planned.
“You guys want a drink?” Sirius called, putting an end to their little quarrel. He held up two different cans of soda, waving them in the air in beckoning.
“C’mon, Reggie,” James said softly, lowering a hand to Regulus’ lower back, guiding him toward Sirius before letting his hand drop away; it was times like these when Regulus wondered if James ever felt the same. If James felt the same pull toward Regulus that Regulus felt toward him.
James and Regulus each grabbed their drinks and settled into the sand, basking in the sun and the salt-brined air. It was their favorite place to be, practically living there in the summertime.
Regulus twisted his open soda can into the sand, stabilizing it there before laying back and shielding his eyes with his arm. The sand was scratchy against his back and the sun was hot against his pale skin, but none of that mattered.
Not when the moment was also filled with the things that settled him the most. There was the feel of James’ knuckles brushing softly against his thigh; there was Remus passing out homemade sandwiches and sliced fruit from a cooler; there was Sirius, easing down into the sand, acoustic guitar in his lap.
Sirius began strumming softly, slow chords making up a gentle melody. It was something Sirius played often at the beach, a song he had been practicing and perfecting for the entire summer.
The song always felt like home to him, soft sounds twinkling…
Chiming…
Suddenly the sound was shifting into the strums of a harp, the volume increasing as Ezra’s alarm continued to chime on his phone. Ezra jolted awake, the gentleness of his alarm doing nothing to stave off the panic that was racing through him. He was shaking, sweating, the memory of the dream still fresh in his mind. It wasn’t fading or dispelling as his dreams always did. He didn’t need to reach out and grasp for it, to beg for the imagined memories to stay, to let him bask in the joy, or the fear, or the pain that the dream evoked because it was still there.
“ Sirius ,” he whispered, tasting the name on his tongue. It wasn’t the same as the night before, when he had said the name of a star in the sky, something distant and insignificant — the name now held power, a space in his heart that he had never known to exist before.
Ezra scrubbed at his face, thinking back to the night before, to stargazing with Eliza; to drinking wine coolers and smoking her brother's stolen cigarettes. He thought back to the other constellations, to hydra and Leo and Regulus and oh god .
If the name Sirius was a jolt to his body, Regulus was a fucking electric current straight to his soul, the memory of the name so visceral he felt it down to his bones. Regulus was more than a memory, it was an identity — it was him .
“What the fuck?” Ezra asked aloud to the empty space around him. He tugged at the roots of his sandy blonde hair as he scanned the room, trying to understand what the fuck was happening.
His eyes caught on a philosophy book, on a poetry journal, on a baseball jersey, and every time it was like he was being hit with a new train car. Over and over again, memory after memory flooding him, infiltrating his bloodstream until it was pumping through his heart, a beat he didn’t recognize.
An uneven beat of Pandora, Evan, Barty.
Another beat of Sirius, James, Remus.
Effie, Monty, Walburga .
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, what is happening?” Immediately tears were falling down Ezra’s face as memories continued to flood him, memories that weren’t his, but that were only his .
Regulus Black, Regulus Black, Regulus Black.
All at once, Ezra was on his feet, racing to his laptop and waking it up, swiping his finger across the touch pad at the bottom furiously until the screen finally lit up. He pulled up the internet browser and typed into the first search engine he could think of.
“Reg-u-lus…Black,” Ezra typed, sounding it out phonetically in hopes of spelling it correctly. Several articles popped up from just a few hours prior.
Teenage boy washes up on Santa Cruz beach.
Boy drowns at local beach.
Drown victim revealed to be local teenage resident, Regulus Black.
Ezra was instantly stumbling back from the computer, hand clasped over his mouth, tears streaming down his face. No, no, no .
This can’t be happening; it doesn't make any sense.
Ezra can’t be…
He can’t be Regulus .
And yet…
He remembered his birthday party — Regulus’ twenty- first birthday party in Santa Cruz. He remembered the beach, remembered the storm and the crashing waves and the undercurrent that he couldn’t escape no matter how hard he swum.
He remembered the sounds of James and Sirius’ voices screaming his name as he grappled for purchase on the water, fingers curling and sliding through with ease, nothing to grab ahold of at all. Arms flailing until his energy was completely gone, the feel of his body succumbing until there was nothing left.
Ezra felt like he couldn’t breathe. He was sucking in lungfuls of air and still, all he was getting were these short little gasps, choking on his own breath.
Ezra collapsed onto the floor, arms curling around his bent knees as he rocked back and forth, as he let himself process — as he let himself sob into the rug beneath him.
This wasn’t possible. He needed —- what? What did he need?
He needed to talk to someone. He needed to talk to Sirius and James and figure out what the fuck happened to him on that beach.