Hear Me Out:

Hear me out:

Genderfluid metamorphmagus Walburga Black, who goes by the name Pollux in her male form, looks exactly like Sirius when she switches genders: the same jet black, long hair, piercing gray eyes, and sharp jawline. From a young age, she was taught to suppress this side of herself by her parents, as metamorphmagi were not deemed "socially acceptable" within wizarding society, especially for someone from an influential pure-blood family. Barely anybody knows about her secret until one day thirteen-year-old Regulus Back goes snooping up in the attic of his family home and finds old photos from the '40s in a box labeled "Pollux Black II", and out of curiosity he goes looking inside it. The moment he sees Pollux, Regulus is at a loss for words, unable to identify the man in the picture who looks just like Sirius. Regulus only knew one Pollux Black: his grandfather. After all his years living underneath the roof of Orion and Walburga Black who often spoke of past relatives with pride, he was surprised that he'd never heard of Pollux II, nor could he recall seeing the man's name on the family tree.

At first he assumes that it's his father, but that assumption didn't quite hold. The man in the photograph bore a distinct air of defiance in his eyes that Regulus has never seen in Orion, who was more reserved and strict, often cloaked in a façade of cold authority. While his father exuded an aura of traditionalism and expectation, Pollux’s gaze sparkled with a rebellious spirit, much like his elder brother Sirius. Which brought him to his second guess: Uncle Alphard.

Regulus always saw Alphard as a free-spirit, someone who seemed to embody a sense of freedom that was rare in the Black family. While others toed the line of pure-blood ideology, Alphard had embraced his independence, often expressing disdain for the family's rigid views. However, the resemblance, although similar, did not match when compared to earlier pictures of Alphard as a boy. By this point, Regulus was left utterly clueless as to who Pollux could be within the family. He wasn't Regulus' grandfather, nor his father, nor his uncle.... With no other option, the young Black went to confront Alphard about the photos, knowing that if he sought out the truth from one of his parents he'd be reprimanded and the photos would be quickly confiscated. Regulus wanted to know- no. He needed to know who these pictures were of. He found Alphard in the sitting room, smoking a cigar, wasting no time as he abruptly threw the pictures onto his uncle's lap. "who is that?" asked Regulus, pointing down to the man in the photos that still rested on his uncle's lap. "who is Pollux Black?" there was a brief silence that filled the air when Regulus finally got the question out, but Alphard just sat there nonchalantly, continuing to smoke his cigar as he stared down at the pictures. after a couple heartbeats he answered: "your mother", Alphard said, as if it was no secret whatsoever. "mother?" Regulus echoed back, his breath hitching in his throat as his eyes locked on Pollux's face. "mother is Pollux Back II?" he questioned, to which Alphard responded with a curt nod. At that moment it all dawned on him.... No wonder Walburga treated her son with such hostility the day the name underneath his portrait on the family tapestry changed from Regula to Regulus. He never felt comfortable in his own skin, and now he understood that his mother must've felt the same way he did back when she was his age, grappling with her own identity in a world that demanded conformity. The weight of expectation had likely pressed down on her too, forcing her into a role that felt foreign and suffocating. Everyone always said that Sirius held most similarity to Walburga, but on that day Regulus saw that he and his mother had more in common than he thought they did. He wondered if his mother saw herself in him, and if she was envious of the fact that Regulus was able to find a place in a world that seemed increasingly open to change. Perhaps, he thought, her anger was rooted not just in disappointment, but in a longing for the choices she had been denied.