Chapter Text
Regulus Arcturus Black was born on November 3rd 1961, just before 4:17 a.m.
His first memory, just like many’s children’s, was the face above his crib. Regulus opened his eyes, blinking drowsily so look at his brother, the image was blurred but he could make up a smile he oh so deeply would grown to love, juts like many other’s, right now Sirius was just another kid staring at him with wondering eyes, his already then long hair tickling Regulus’s cheeks.
“He’s wrinkly” the boy mumbled, curiously pinching his brother’s cheek, his finger was warm and regulus instinctively reached out to grasp at it, Sirius grinned wider
“Sirius.” Walburga said from somewhere in the corner of the room, where she was folding some laundry “You were like this once too” she remarked, putting the rest of the stuff into the drawer and closing it with a soft click.
“I wasn’t ugly.” Sirius huffed, crossing his arms over his chest like petulant child he was.
His eyes following his mother as the woman tied back her hair, the pony tail was curling slightly at the end and swinging behind her as she walked, almost brushing back of her thighs. Regulus loved chewing on it since diapers.
“He’s not ugly” she said, her lips curling up into a gentle motherly smile as she walked to her sons. Walburga scooped up Regulus in her arms, cradling him against her chest, humming softy. The boy stared at her with his huge eyes, a stray short curl was already curling over his forehead.
“I want to hold the goblin.” Sirius stated, standing on his tip toes to look at the baby in the woman’s arms.
“Don’t call him that, sweetheart, he’s your brother” She sighed, crouching down to his height, passing Regulus to his brother tenderly.
Sirius held the baby in his arms, his eyes studying the little bundle pf blanket a tiny face was peering from curiously.
Regulus let out a soft whiny sound and reached out his hands to cradle Sirius’s cheeks
.
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As Regulus got older it started becoming obvious, something was not right. He was a little too passive to go out with Sirius and his friend’s (those boys their mother essentially let into the house when Orion was at work), but too much of a talker to be spending entire days with his father in the office.
So they did the only thing that seemed to be an obvious solving for this problem— to let him spend all his free time in the kitchen with his mother. It worked for a while, to be exact until he turned 6- when his grandmother decided that he NEEDED to socialise. He would, just sit on the stool and much on the apples powdered in cinnamon that his mom cut for him, and turn the pages of a thick encyclopaedia with sticky fingers.
.
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“Go play with the girl over there, sweetheart” Walburga pushed him to the sandbox shaped like star. The soft summer was warming his already hot and flushed cheeks as he eyed the blond girl sitting in the stand and building castles.
“No…” Regulus protested softly, grabbing the fabric of his mothers’s skirt, twisting it in his little fist. He lowered his head, burring it against her hip “i don’t want to go…itchy” he pointed on the sand spilling out the playing area as the girl animatedly played with her dolls.
The girl sitting in the sand box was giggling, her pony tails bouncing and framing her pouty cheeks when she played out a scene with her toys— she didn’t seem to notice Regulus or the boy’s mother standing nearby…even tho they did indeed stand out form the crowd of people surrounding them at the playground. But her mother did.
A woman about an inch shorter than Walburga walked to them. Her face split in a smile so friendly it was dripping with fakeness, as she neared them Regulus’s nose wrinkled, her perfume hitting his nostrils. It was the sweet vanilla smell that when mixed with summer heat of the day made him physically recoil and his breakfast to come up in his throat.
“What a sweet boy you got here” she said, her eyes flickering down to Regulus who was still hugging his mother’s leg.
Walburga nodded. Giving the woman a tight smile.
“Not very talkative, is he?” The other woman knelt to his level, reached to brush his hair from his face, the boy cringed away, burying his face into his mother’s side deeper.
“He’s shy” Walburga explained, stroking his curls
.
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It was Regulus’s 8th birthday.
The entire family was very…. Unfortunately present and crowding the dining room of their old house. The thing regulus remembered the place the most for was the smell of root in every room and the creak of floorboards that definitely meant that his father was taking off his belt, and walking to Sirius’s room (which always was shortly followed by their mother sneaking in with healing herbs and tea) while regulus, then only a child himself, trembled in his room, praying to the crosses—the crossed that were not yet taken down, or the ones Walburga hiw under his bed from Orion’s watching gaze.
“He’s…odd.” Aunt Druella said,”isn’t he, Wally?” her eyes watching her own daughter- Narcissa, Regulus’s cousin, that sat in a big armchair in the corner of the living room. The girl was holding the boy on her lap, reading a book with blue pixie on the cover.
Walburga glanced up from her own drink, looking at the kids. Her sister in law continued:
“Sirius, isn’t it?, he was such a lively child at his age…and this one “ she gestured vaguely into their direction “he’s just an exact copy of his father isn’t he?”
Walburga’s eye twitched, she didnt just dislike her sister in law, but she was the definition of a mistake in her eyes, with her overall attitude and the need to comment on absolutely anything, even if it was by far not the slightest of her buisness.
”what does his father say about him, Wally? He was so unhappy when Sirius started more actively showing his….temper” she gave her sister a pointed look, as if blaming her.(Sirius did in fact inherited some of the burning nature)
Walburga visibly stiffened at the mention of her husband, she glanced across the room, her eyes fixing on the man standing near the fireplace, drink in hand as he talked to some of the extended family they only saw on parties and funerals, she has spend good 10 years by his side and still couldn’t fully comprehend how absolutely hideous and way beyond his years he looked. At only 26 his hair was already staring to grey at temples and a little in his beard, eyes tired and hollow. The resemblance with the 16 she married after her first bloom, yes….the resemblance was definitely there. But gone was the scared teenager who held her hand on that family portrait in the hallway— She could clearly remember it, the feeling of nakedness that crawled down her arms the entire session, despite her wearing her mother’s dress— the man she saw now was a father, the head of the manor and their lives.
Orion, for his part, as if feeling her eyes on him, turned, arching his brow in silent question. Walburga paled, if it was even possible on her already milky white skin, shaking her head, her eyes drawned to her son once again
She stood up slowly and walking to him, still feeling aunt’s Druela’s eyes burning in her back.
“Reggie, dear. It’s time to unpack your presents” she said taking his hand, and leading the boy to the long table placed in the middle of the room- every inch of it was packed with overly extravagant and defiantly not suitable for an 8 year old gifts “uncle Alphrad surely got you something really nice” she rubbed his shoulders as dozens of eyes bore in her child, waiting for a slip up, waiting for and opportunity to tell her how much of a horrible mother she was.
.
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September 1th 1971, when she was done with listening to the constant complains of their grandparents and other members of the Black family about Regulus being too antisocial for his age she decided it was time to do something, or at least find out what was wring and if maybe everyone was correct and it was in fact her fault, even despite how many times she tried to reason with them by pointing out that she raised Sirius just fine, so it wasn’t her fault.
Right after they said their goodbyes to smiling Sirius who was waving happily at them from the Hogwarts express at the happily from hogwarts express window, Walburga made a quick excuse to Orion, something about ‘needing to refill the stash of her unicorn powder’ and grabbing Regulus’s hand, she rushed away from her husband who still stood near their car parked at the platform with gaping mouth. ‘What is that woman doing?’ Written very clearly across his face, but she didnt bother explaining herself, for once in her life.
The St Mungo’s was a huge white building hidden from muggle eyes by charms and spells they didn’t teach at Hogwarts. The walls inside were painted light pinkish-peachy colour, that was mean to make the corridors look welcoming (well instead it gave it the look of forcefully oppressing place that tried to hard to cover all those not so legal methods they used to cure their patients…with a big smile of course)
The hallways filled to the brim with parents and their crying kids. One woman stood up practically awfully. Her boy was sitting beside her in a plastic chair and seemed completely unbothered by the fact that out of his nose two long curled horns were sticking out and nudging everyone who tried to pass him, he seemed in fact so unbothered that he had the audacity to even try to reach them with his tongue while the med-with tried to find a somehow suitable angle to treat him.
“He…he” the woman sobbed, clutching her purse in her lap “i just left for a second…and when i-i, returned…” she hiccuped, wiping her nose with a tissue the confuse healer handed her “and when I returned…he was already like that!”
Regulus watched them with curious eyes, his hand still clumped in his mother’s grasp. She tugged him, and skipped to the door in the very far corner of the hallway.
.
The healer’s office was a bit different, light shade of ment green covered the walls in uneven patches, there were places where someone clearly tried to cover up the holes caused by the poor plaster job, the disparity in the strokes was visible as the piled up pain filling in the holes with time curled on itself and created uneven bumps and cracks.
Regulus’s feet didn’t reach the floor, wiggling in the air slowly as he fidgeted with his fingers. Walburga sat beside him, rubbing his knee softly.
The healer showed up after few minutes, his eyes scanning them both critically. Regulus continued his fidgeting, rubbing his knees with his palms(seeking oh so pleasant sensation of material rubbing his irrated skin), looking at the cold titles on the floor. Their corners were cracked, he even debated telling the doctor about it but after few moments decided against it ‘he must know about them, doesn’t he? He spends every moment is this room…probably just decided to leave them like this. Maybe he likes cracks’
“What we got here?” The man asked, sitting in his own chair behind the desk, eying them curiously “a little boy? Doesn’t seem harmed to me, ma’am” he smiled at Walburga, watching her son like he was an intresting animal more than anything. “What seems to be the problem?” He asked her, tapping his pen against the clipboard he already placed on the table, Regulsu saw his name already written on the top of the document, even if he was watching it upside down.
“He’s a little…reserved, that’s all, i was hoping maybe you could…advice as on how to deal with it, maybe so exercises?” she explained, rubbing now Regulus’s shoulder.
“Alright” the healer hummed, his eyes going back down to the boy “So, boy, can you tell me your name?”
”why do you need me to say it? You already know it” Regulus pointed on the paper on the man’s desk.
"Oh it's just a polite gesture, a formal meeting if you will. I am doctor Wrenwood. And you are?" The man exchange his hand for a handshake. Regulus didn't take it
"Regulus Arcturus Black" the boy mumbled, eyes still fixed on the tile underneath his feet.
"Nice to meet to Regulus. How old are you, kiddo?"
“10….” he leaned a little closer to his mother
Wrenwood nodded again, scribbling down something on the paper
“10? Such a big boy! Does a pretty boy like you have a lot of friends? I bet”
“I…no..not really…I don’t like kids…they’re…obnoxious”
“Obnoxious , huh? A bit of a hard word for you, isn't it, kiddo? But yea, some kids can be handful" the man shrugged. Going back to his notes.
Regulus felt a lump forming in the back of his throat, he tried to swallow it down but it seemed to be stuck in the back, clingin to the walls.
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That afternoon (after way too many people talked to him and touched him, after too many strangers asked him questions about his relationships with his peers and socilia norms, after being talked to like a toddler because he was holding onto his mother), he walked out of the hospital with a little colourful pin pinned to his favourite green jamper- ‘special needs’ it read.
Walburga was walking beside him, her eyes going over the diagnosis they were able to get, after skipping 6 lines and visiting at least 9 specialists who had 3 interns each, followings each their step-‘child psychosis’, she was worrying the corner of the paper between her fingers with long cherry red nails. Regulus was little, but certainly not dumb, he could feel the tension in his mother’s mood, could see the tightness of her shoulders and the way she held his hand juts a little too tight.
“Mom…?” He tugged at her sleeve
“Yes, sweetheart?” She stuffed the paper into her bag, smiling at him softly
“What’s wrong?” His features crossed with concern, eyes wide, searching his mother's.
“Nothing, baby, everything alright” she brushed a stray curl from his forehead “how about we go buy something sweet before coming back home?”
Regulus watched her for a few moments, but then decided not to press harder than he already did, so he just simply nodded, following her into the diagon Alley.
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She didn’t tell Orion about the documents, simply just tucked them deep inside her nightstand in their shared bedroom, as well was a bottle of potio the healer gave her, 'just in case he has symptoms of hysteria, it's common is kids like...like him' the man whispered to her when they were already leaving.
And when Orion did ask her about the unicorn powder she was in such rush to buy, Walburga just shrugged and said that they didn’t have any in the shop by the time they arrived there.
.
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Now Regulus was 16. He was taller, started straightening his hair every morning before classes, changed from his sweaters into shirts and ties, pressed black trousers and suit shoes. But the only habit that didn’t change about the boy were his interest.
He still preferred to be alone, he still liked sitting down with a book, and oh god did he like his bug collection he kept under his desk.
Black started collecting them when he turned around 11, maybe 12, he couldn’t remember, but what he could definitely remember was the fact that his mother was far from exited about the perspective of keeping bugs at home, but when she realised all of them were dead and kept in boxes in her son’s room….well, she just closed her eyes like she did almost every time one of her kids did something stupid.
His dormitory room was probably the cleanest in the entire castle, books on shelves neatly organised by authors 's names and in rainbow order, from dark shade of wine red to the light lavender purple (black and whites as well as shades of grey and brown had their own shelves and were meticulously reorganised when he brought in a new one, which happened way more often than he would like to admit. Desk only ever had a coffee mug on the worst days, and was absolutely dustless on every other…Regulus made sure of it.
It didn’t look like anyone lived in there, but Regulus was not at risk of someone mistaking his room for being a free one and putting in some clueless first year who was just happy to have the view of the dark lake and Giant Squid layer right outside their window.
Regulus was oh so glad than unlike other Gryfindor house Slytherin had private rooms, it felt like the biggest blessing to a boy who deeply despised awkward small talk with whoever would be unfortunate enough to be pared with him in dorm. The majority of castle considered that lay out of Slytherin overly… pampered, overindulgent…self assured.
Mess…oh god, it was Regulus's greatest fear and enemy at the same time.
A fear that terrorised the young boy everywhere he'd go since he was 5. In the Great Hall— he'd notice stains on the tables, in the wand shop— he'd see a mismatched box laying on the counter, like someone forgot to pick it up and just decided it was not worth the effort to put it somewhere in the back to as ugly and standing out wands, even the parks couldn't escape his judgemental and everything seeing, bluish-grey eyes.
It would be practically impossible to count all the time regulus has snapped at someone for misplacing something as simple as mug or a cloth. (Barty tried once, when they were dating, needless to say he only went up to 137 and then after a week of time they broke up). In Regulus’ mind everything had a place, and if you couldn’t out the thing in its place…why bother with taking it in the first place?
If you looked at younger Black from side (without of course being given the entire context of his… unique situation), you'd say he hated everyone and everything. Judging only from his facial expressions, which way too many people called a ‘visual translator of his very thoughts’. Always irritated young man, always frowning, always having some bitter comment that would ruin half your day, and manage to keep you up at night.
But only if you spoke to him personally he would explain…well, unlikely but maybe if you were really nice.
He hated old chairs because the creaked and made him feel heavy, therefore uncomfortable, even if he was in fact, as thin as a stick. He hated wool because it made his skin itch, and the desire to just scratch it open boil in his stomach to unbearable heats and heights. He hated dust because it made him cough, like a sick Victorian child, and the castle was dust filled so he felt like it 24/7. And absolutely despised boiled carrots because it felt gross on his tongue and made him want to puke his guts. Think warm sweet vomit. Hated loud noises because they made him hear buzz in his ears, the same could be said about bright lights, he felt dizzy.
.
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Right now Regulus was sitting in his bed, blanket over his legs, pillows surrounding him like a little nest he was building for the past hour or so. Book in right hand, tea cup in left.
It could have been a perfect night: He was wearing a soft black jumper, and sweatpants that didn't make the skin of his legs feel tingly and sweaty. His eyes were moving from line to line (he learned how to read at the age of 3, thanks to his mother insisting on homeschooling him before Hogwarts), and the steaming tea warmed his throat and spread over his chest from the inside.
He had a plan, because of course he did: Finish those forsaken 100 pages, that he was convinced, were mocking him with other books on the shelf behind his back(for not reading those last 100 pages last weekend like he had promised and for some reason didn't do it. Maybe it was that he was explaining to some younger kids how to find the divination classroom, or that Barty and Evan had dragged him along to see 'something cool', and by cool they meant and corpse of a gigantic spider in its nest somewhere deep inside the forbidden forest, (and of course it was cool, but Regulus would never admit it to their faces…but he still kept one of its fangs in jar in his suitcase)),and return the book to the library before 8p.m.
But every good moment was short lasting and it was soon ruined by something he hadn’t planned…because it would be).
Barty Crouch Jr was a was a walking talking paradox of a person. Born into a pure blood family’s the sacred twenty-eight if you will. Crouches were rubbing shoulders with everyone: Blacks, Abbotts, Averys, Carrows, Rosiers, Notts, Malfoys. But Regulus juts guessed that the saying that the strictest parents raise the wildest children was in fact correct and true…at least if you looked at Barty. He was the epitome of apple falling away from the tree, Regulus was not sure it was even physically possible for an apple to fall THAT far.
With his wild green hair and multiple piercings Barty was THE disappointment of the family tree. But no one dared to complain, he was moma’s boy and a bright one to be frank, so, like good and respecting people everyone just nodded politely when Barty brought another dead bat onto the common room.
Fortunately…he was without one standing now in Regulus’s bedroom with a proud grin, clutching a crumpled piece of paper to his chest.
“Guess what!” Barty’s voice rung over the room
"What?" Regulus didn’t raise his eyes. Praying Barty would just leave, understanding that he's not interested in talking or even seeing him at that moment.
Barty ignored the obvious stare of disdain from his friend, flopping on the bed beside him. He almost his hit leg but Regulus was fast enough to move it from the way.
"A note. For you. From Sirius" he waved the note in Black’s face
"Why would he sent you note meant for me?" The boy tried to snatch away the note but crouch was also not a slow one so he lifted it above his head, further up than Regulus could reach without standing up.(which he certainly wasn’t planning on doing, still helplessly trying to cling to the possibility of Barty understanding his unspoken message and leaving him alone to finish the book)
"Duh, he didn't. I caught his owl" Barty shrugged and laid on the bed(now gritting Regulus’s ankles with his bony spine.
”ow” Regulus mumbled, rubbing his leg. "Give it here" he demanded, outstretching open palm to his ex.
Barty just smiled wider, still holding it above his head "How do you feel about Potter?" He drawled out, the smile not leaving his lips even for a second.
"Pardon me?" Regulus frowned, searching Barty's face. The look 'did you hit your head on your way back from the forest?' was unmistakable and so painfully notable only idiot wouldn’t. But Crouch, despite absolutely acing his owl was as clueless as a new born seal, and so oblivious to any hint anyone ever gave him.
"James Potter" Barty said. “Not the older one, what’s his name Flemont?”
”Fleamont, Barty. With ea.”
”Fleamont then” Barty waved his hand dismissively, then it clicked “wait…you know his dad’s name? Why?”
”i read it somewhere.”
”And you remembered? God, you’re gonna go so good with him!”
”who?”
”James”
”huh”
”…”
”…”
”sooo…?” Crouch started again.
"I tolerate him" Regulus closed the book with a sigh. Burying and already mourning his free evening.
"Would you go out with him?" Barty asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief, bouncing with barely contained excitement of something so gloriously catastrophic that it could actually cause a natural disasters in the area if not treated with care.
"No." Regulus said immediately. Obviously. Because he'd thought about that hundreds of times, and the mer thought of sitting with the boy anywhere bat in presence of his brother terrified him.
James was popular and that annoyed him far beyond what his words could ever describe. Not that he was jealous. But that fact that there was a group of girls constantly running around for Potter…well…it affected his life, dramatically: everything was ruined for him when potter grew out his hair last year. Usually he was rocking a buzz cut, but ever since his stupid curls burst out the girls were everywhere. The Great Hall was ruined. The corridors were ruined, and even in classes regulus couldn’t escape the constant murmurs of ‘he’s so handsome’, ‘he’s so smart’, ‘he’s so strong!’. Because no. James Potter was not smart. Regulus tutored him for his own O.W.Ls even when he himself was year younger, and potter couldn’t grasp the concept of not moving your wand sharply when casting a healing charm.
“Come on, Reggie, he’s not that bad!”
”i said no.”
Barty pouted, he outstretched his hand, offering him the note. Regulus snatched it and unfolded it on his lap.
Regulus.
You. Are. Leaving. Tonight. Potter. YES.
Reggie, i am worried. Like, Siriusly!(get it?)
You spend toooooooo much time inside:( and i don’t want you to look like baby mandragora by the end of the year. So i asked my good friend- James Potter, to go out with you because i and Remus can’t.
He’s a VERY nice guy, AND he’ll keep an eye on you.
Please consider, and owl me as soon as possible!
-S
(P.S: wear something warm it’s gonna snow)
“What is this?” Regulus looked up at Barty.
”A note.”
”Yea! I see it! Why is this note here?”
”Because i caught the owl” Barty smiled, but caught Regulus’s look and paled “hey, listen-“
”no. I am not going. No. Absolutely not.” Regulus crumpled up the note and threw it into the trash.
”why? You didn’t even consider it!”
”i don’t have to consider it to know he’s a nuisance.”
”Reg-“
”he’s obnoxious self absorbed ignorant-“ Regulus huffed out, shaking his head. Why was he reacting so heavily about it, it was not something to stress himself over, yet he couldn’t stop the anger and frustrations spilling out his chest, he didn’t even know the boy but something about being treated like a princess in disdain irritated him and made him feel helpless in his own skin.
”what did I miss…” a voice came from the doorway. Evan stood in there with a stack of books, watching Regulus' and his boyfriend in stunned silence "why the yelling, Reg, what's up?"
Regulus' handed him the note, Evan's eyes scanned over it quickly.
"Oh..are you going?"
"No!"
Rosier and Barty exchanged looks before the blond's eyes fixed on Regulus
"Maybe like...give it a go?"
"Are you both on it?" The boy bristled, his eyes widened as he looked between his two best friends. "Go out? With him? You know I don't like him!"
"You don't don't like him, you don't like the attention he's getting, but maybe if it was just the two of you...you know, maybe you could actually see he's a nice guy?"
Evan sat on the bed, watching Regulus' who was now passing the room with quick steps.
”Reg….hey..Sirius is correct…the only people you spend time with us and teachers, you need more socialisation with your peers”
”I don’t want more ‘socialisation with my peers’ i am fine as it is. Even if i wanted to you have to tell me about this stuff beforehand! I have plans, i have schedule, i…” he took in a swallow breath “i don’t like him”
”you don’t know him” Crouch tried again
”i know enough about him to tell you that we have zero in common. Why him? We are not alike, not even a little!”
”one evening” Evan spoke.
”huh?”
”one evening. One meeting. And if you don’t like it you leave and we never make you speak to him ever again”
”what would i even talk to him about?”
”anything! Books, quidditch, bugs, anything. If he doesn’t know something i am sure he’ll be exited to learn about it. I know him, Reg, and i know he will be nice and try to have as much fun with you as you two can”
Regulus considered it, hands wrapped around himself as he idly watched the quidditch poster on his wall.
“One evening…you promise?”
”i swear to Merlin. You don’t have to talk to him, you don’t have to do anything, juts go out, sit with him for a while, see if you like it and then you can come back here and tell us how it went. Of he does something you don’t like. You juts tell us and we’ll break his arms”
”and legs!” Barty chimed in
“and legs” Evan agreed, eyes still locked on Black “Deal?”
“…Deal”
.
Regulus sat behind his desk, quill in hand, he started at the blank parchment, two boys sitting on the bed. Well, Evan was sitting, Barty was laying with his lap on his lap, throwing Regulus’s Shrieker up in the air, smirking when the ball let out loud screams.
”what do i even write?” Regulus mumbled to himself
“write that you accept the invitation and ask for details” Evan caught the ball, setting it behind his back on the bed, limiting Barty’s access to it, Crouch whined loudly but didn’t protest, just buried his face in Evan’s stomach.
”do i write to Sirius or James?” Black sighed, quill hovering over the paper
”well…who invited you?”
”Sirius, but i am going out with James, so wouldn’t it make more sense to write to him?”
”then write him”
Regulus hesitated then started writing:
James.
I received Sirius’s note, but must admit the owl was caught and didn't deliver it, i hope his owl is ok.
in regards to the invitation.
I agreed, but only if following requests are respected and fulfilled:
- There must be no physical contact between us whatsoever.
- You will NOT be trying to stop me if i try to leave
- And MOST importantly nobody but the two of us must know about the meeting.
Date of the meeting: 12.12.1977
Place of the meeting: 3rd Astronomy tower.
Time of the meeting: 9 p.m
Sincerely yours Re-Regulus Arcturus Black.
Evan watched him write the note behind his shoulder “a little too…dry, isn’t it?”
Regulus glared at him, folding the note.
Evan raised his hand’s apologetically. “I am just saying, chill” he sat back in his place, watching Regulus send the nose through the fireplace.
.
.
Regulus was finishing page 30 when the fireplace spit out another piece of paper. It landed beautifully on his open book— making Barty who was still laying on the bed gasp dramatically, but Regulus didn't appreciate the beauty of the moment and opened he note with his long bony fingers.
Hi, Reg!
It’s James:)
The owl is perfectly fine, thank you! She’s feeding on Remus’s bred sticks right now!!
Sure thing, I respect your requests!
i’ll meet you at 9 on Astronomy tower 3!!
-Prongs;)
Regulus frowned, he reread the note 2 times to make sure he didn’t miss read…’Prongs’? What type of name was THAT
.
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Regulus was ready but 8:35, his hair done nicely, bangs pinned back, just how mom taught him was polite. Shirt sitting perfectly over his shoulders and right now he was tying a black satin bow around his neck. Evan and Barty left. Evan throwing advices about gloves and Barty giggling like a maniac.
Black sighed, looking at himself in the mirror, he looked rather silly in his own eyes, getting ready for a meeting that wasn’t even required and could’ve been easily avoided if maybe he at least pretended to come out his room from time to time. Why did sirius have to be so insisting and annoying?
The boy stood up, straightening his back and draping black coat over his shoulder. Barty said he looked brooding, Regulus thought of it as practical. The gloves came on next. He once again looked in the mirror and locking the door to his room, he left. The common room was empty so he was able to sneak out pretty easily, and nobody noticed beside some of the passing ghosts who turned their heads in his direction curiously. And just like that he was out. Cold December air hitting his cheeks and he shivered, wrapping the green/ silver scarf around himself a little tighter and started making his way to the astronomy tower, his shoes creaking on the snow dusting the Hogwarts grounds.