Chapter Text
The first year sorting was always something that Regulus found a waste. No one cared who was put where, and no one truly wanted to sit and watch roughly 150 students be ‘housed’ without having the luxury to eat. The only reason Regulus went to the great hall instead of his dorm was that he needed to make an appearance and did not want to deal with the drama of being marked as unattended.
Usually, during the great hall, he finds himself watching the ghosts or the ceiling. The enchanted ceiling mimicked the external sky. The gloomy, stormy night sky. However, this year after the summer events, he found himself staring at Sirius and James. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was desperate for one of them to look back at him. To say, they were sorry that they would save him too. He wanted Sirius to take back what he said to tell him it was another one of their stupid pranks, and he did not abandon him. In a house without a home.
“Glaring at them any harder, and he might just implode,” Barty teased with a smirk. Once again, catching Regulus’ glare at the back of James’ head.
“Quite a big word for a guy like you,” Evan responds with a matching smirk.
“Hey!” He hollered, throwing a biscuit across the table, missing Evan, and hitting Regulus.
“If I were you, I’d question my existence and dive off the astronomy tower.” Regulus declared monotonically. To most, it would seem as if Regulus hated Barty, but once you knew Regulus, it was as close to a compliment as you would receive.
Smirking, Barty responded, “You think of me? Let alone being me,” he put a hand over his forehead dramatically, “I’m honored to have a spot in your mind.” Regulus rolled his eyes, went back, and stared at his brother across the hall.
“Careful now, people might get the wrong idea,” Dorcas announced, amused, as she waved her fork around.
“I would rather die than go anywhere near him,” he remarked, gagging to emphasize his point.
“Now, now darling, saving the gagging for the bedroom,” Barty flirted, making Regulus turn different shades of red and pink.
Regulus glared as he watched Evan and Dorcas burst into laughter. “Whore.”
“Prat.”
“Wanker.”
“Git.”
“Knob head.”
“Draft”
“Fairy”
“Well, now you’ve taken it too far,” Regulus sassed, the corner of his mouth lifting. It was times like this that he felt at home: he forgot all about his problems and who he had to be. He was just a boy with his friends messing around.
“Our Slytherin king is nothing of a fairy,” Evan joined in.
“Oh! But he is,” Dorcas started with mischief in her eyes, “caught ‘em franchising with the enemy boy.” Regulus huffed with fondness and annoyance, knowing she meant James Sirius’ best friend.
“I would not step foot near Potter, I would rather parish.”
“Cas never said who the enemy was,” Evan informed, “have anything to share?”
“All of you are arses,” Regulus stood dramatically, getting ready to leave mi-sorting.
“You can leave quite yet, my lord,” Evan said, patting the seat where Regulus was sitting. “After the sorting, they’ll be announcing the Tri-wizard tournament.” Sitting back down allowed Evan and Barty to start their regular bickering. Arguing about the world quidditch team was better, who played the best over the summer and who was the hottest player.
Regulus, on the other hand, stared down at his soup, swishing the spoon around. He so desperately wants to get back at his brother, and his best friend, ‘the brother he never had, ’ in Sirius’s words.
Dumbledore had his wand to his throat, making his voice echo, “Now we’re all settled in and sorted, I’d like to make an announcement.” He paused for the dramatic effect that it had on students. “I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third years.” Evan lit up at the thought of their Hogsmeade trips.
Doubledore’s mouth twitched with glee. “It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year.” Many of the Quidditch players look around at their teams, mouths open in utter shock and disbelief. “This is due to an event starting in two weeks and continuing throughout the school year, taking up too much of the teacher’s time and energy–but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing…” Before he could continue, a deafening rumble of thunder rolled, and the doors slammed open. Many of the students shrieked at the sound.
A tall troll-like woman with long blonde hair tied into a ballet bun strutted up to Dumbledore, letting her dress flow and shimmer as she walked. Students stared in awe, mostly due to how tall she was, but some to the way she presented herself. She walked with power and an inflamed ego. The room watched in silence as the two whispered. With few words shared, the woman took a seat at the professors’ table, to the right of Dumbledore, right next to the new defense against the dark arts teacher.
“This castle will not only be your home this year, but home to some very special guests as well. You see, Hogwarts has been chosen…'' he paused, letting the words sink in, creating a dramatic half-ass suspenseful moment, “Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event. The Tri-Wizard tournament. Now, for those of you who do not know, the Tri-wizard tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests. From each school, a single contestant is selected to compete. Now, let me be clear. If chosen, you stand alone. And trust me when I say these contests are not for the faint-hearted, but more of that later.” lightning struck, making the room go a blinding white as the thunder continued to rumble. For now, please join me in welcoming the ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and their headmistress, Filemina Sturton.” Seconds later, the great hall echoed with applause, along with shouts of celebration and welcome. Most didn’t know what the tournament was and eagerly wanted to see what the year would hold. Others were agitated that Quidditch was not taking place this year. Regulus was one of those few agitated with the lack of Quidditch. Quidditch was the one thing he got to choose, and he was rather fond of participating in the games.
The hall doors burst open, once again slamming against the wall, as twelve students in blue dresses and tight buns danced across the hall. Releasing butterflies as they went to flutter around the room. The students twirled and leaped forward, creating a ballet rehearsal for the school. Regulus scoffed and rolled his eyes at the show they put on and the lack of passion from within the students. To him, it looked as if a penguin was trying to fly. It had what it needed to fly, but yet lacked the ability. Once they all reached the front, they bowed and went to join the Ravenclaw table. By sitting at the table, it was the Beauxbatons students’ way of showing where they stood in the school. That they thought of themselves as intelligent, creative, and clever.
Dorcas snorted, “Your royal majesty, it seems to me that there is a very fluorescent blue butterfly in your precious locks.”
Glaring, Regulus demanded through gritted teeth, “Get. It. Out.” Regulus was not about to make a fool of himself if there was no butterfly or didn’t grab it on the first try.
“My, my, but you look rather dashing with it,” Barty complimented. “A splash of color to your rather gloomy wardrobe.”
It was noticeable to all three that Regulus patients were running thin. Signing, Evan reached up and picked the butterfly out of his hair, placing it in his pocket. “Saving it in memory of our fairy prince,” he informed, giving a reason as to why he didn’t throw the paper butterfly away.
Regulus opened his mouth to show his gratitude, but the dreadful speech continued. “And now our friends from the north, please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang and the headmaster, Tristram Karkaroff.
Just like before, the hall doors slammed open, a miracle they were still on the hinges. The headmaster Tristram took the lead. A tall, bearded man that looked like he could kill a dragon with a single flick of a finger. He wore animal hides and a fur coat that draped and flowed as he walked. The following 12 schoolboys all wore knight-like outfits. In all brown tight pants and a bright red buttoned vest, along with a fur-lined half cape. As they walked down towards Dumbledore, they twirled staffs and periodically stabbed them into the ground, creating a spark effect. Reaching the end, they all faced the students and saluted before walking towards Gryffindor’s table, where they would be staying. Going to the Gryffindor table was the school’s way of broadcasting that they felt like they were full of courage, determination, and loyalty.
Once the students walked towards the table, you got a closer look at each student. Whispers broke out at the sight of Wulfric Mulciber. A lanky man with shoulder-length blonde hair, dark brown, almost black eyes, and a rather large scar from his lip to his chin. He was very well known due to his father’s recent banishment to Azkaban. The ministry found him with the newly forming group called ‘Death Eaters’ going around torturing and murdering mud-bloods and muggles. They stated their reasoning as being that they were impure and shouldn’t possess the ability to be on such a magical planet. They were a new terrorist group that was quickly making the front page in both wizarding and muggle newspapers. It left many students worrying about their safety in Hogwarts, with a son of a Death Eater among them.
Wulfric himself was known for his cruel sense of humor. He would cause dangerous and cruel pranks on fellow peers, showing a very sadistic personality. He was also known for following his father’s footsteps in believing in pure-blood supremacy and that only pure-bloods should be allowed to learn magic.
“One final note!” Dumbledore announced, clearing his throat, “Eternal glory, and a thousand galleons worth of prize money, that is what the student who wins the Tri-wizard tournament. But to do this, that student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks.” Pausing, with a wave of his wand, he uncovered a tall stone goblet. “The goblet of fire. Anyone wishing to submit themselves for the tournament, merely write your name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame before this hour on Thursday night. Do not do so lightly. If chosen, there’s no turning back. As of this moment, the tri-wizard tournament has begun.”
Dumbledore stepped away from the stand and sat in his seat, “Let the first feast of the year begin.” The room roared with life as the students started to mingle among themselves. Clanking dishes together and asking for food to be passed around. Many students ranted about their summers and caught up with friends, while also making new friends. Most of the first years shared what they were excited about.
Barty stacked food onto his plate. “I’m starved,” he paused, stuffing a turkey leg into his mouth, “I feel like I could eat a whole hippogriff.”
“What would your father say about this display?” Evan questioned as she shook his head in fake disappointment.
“Evan, Evan, Evan,” Darcas repeatedly waved her fork around, “This is Hogwarts, not a prison. The lawmakers are not to be mentioned in these great parts.”
Regulus ignored his friends, finding himself at peace, eating freely without worrying about it being poisoned or taken away. Without being forced to eat foods he hated or commented on the amount he ate. Instead, his friends were all around him, laughing and teasing one another. There was no tension and no emotional whiplash. He was as close to home as he could get.