A/N - I've been bouncing this idea around for awhile - I think up to this point I've written every house but Slytherin. Can't have that, can we? Anyway, I own nothing, but I do enjoy writing. Read, review, and most importantly, enjoy!
Green had never, in fact, been one of Regulus Black's favorite colors. He had always preferred bright, bold shades of blue, and had more than once considered adopting blue for his bedroom back home. Sirius, after all, had quite garishly colored his own room in scarlet and gold. Of course, Sirius also had the advantage of having been placed in the house he wanted to be in – the house most likely to have his mother up in arms. Regulus himself had been desperately hoping for Ravenclaw, for high arched windows and soft airy lights. Unlike Sirius though, Regulus knew there was tradition to be upheld, and that tradition declared Slytherin House to be the only real option. This was precisely how Regulus found himself midway through his second year, seated in a common room that was positively swimming in shades of green. Not for the first time, he toyed with the idea of changing the colors and blaming the work on Sirius and his friends. But there were essays to write and homework to be done, and besides, Sirius managed to get into quite enough trouble on his own. Well, get himself and Regulus into trouble, really, since none of the Slytherins seemed to understand that Regulus was in no way helping the troublesome Gryffindors. He liked the boys well enough, though he would never admit that fact to anyone willingly. James Potter, the ringleader, all easy confidence and swagger. Remus Lupin, who seemed to be shy but turned out to have quite the sharp sense of humor. Peter Pettigrew, kind and soft and funny in his own way. Regulus envied Sirius and his friends, envied their good natured fun and their sunlight-filled freedom. The four would be out causing some new mischief most likely, and Regulus was left behind in an unpleasantly green common room, upholding the name of the House of Black.
Regulus had taken up occupation of one of the sofas nearest the fireplace, opposite his cousin and lone companion, Barty Crouch. The small, strawberry blond boy contrasted sharply with Regulus' own dark hair and pale features, and people oftentimes refused to believe the pair were even remotely related. Until of course, anyone heard Barty talk, or happened to see his bouts of temper. Barty's coloring was Crouch, but his temper was most emphatically Black. Somewhere beyond the sofa, Avery and Mulciber seemed to be designing some sort of Quidditch strategy, albeit very loudly. A few of the girls were shooting very pointed glares in the direction of the two third years, neither of whom appeared to be taking the hint. Finally, Barty threw down his Charms book, scowling and leaning over the back of the sofa.
"Shut it already! Some of us are actually trying to work here!"
Avery and Mulciber both froze, stunned and slowly turning to see who had had the audacity to shout at them. Avery's eyes narrowed at the sight of Barty, red-faced and furious, and Regulus sighed and bookmarked his place in his Transfiguration book, preparing for the impending fight. Even with the added height of the sofa, Barty was still very short, and Avery entirely towered over him. Not that Barty was at all intimidated by this, instead jabbing a finger into Avery's chest.
"If you're going to shout like idiots, go do it in your own bloody dorm!"
"What makes you think you can boss us around?" Avery scowled, his voice low. "Cause your dad's all important in the Ministry?"
Barty's face flushed deeper red at this, and the finger against Avery's chest was replaced by a wand in a motion so rapid that even Regulus missed the switch. Avery paled suddenly, stiffening, and Mulciber halted in his approach to the sofa. Regulus reached out gently and tugged Barty's arm away, pushing him back into his seat.
"I think you ought to leave now," Regulus said calmly, nodding toward Avery and Mulciber. "Before something bad happens."
Avery seemed fully prepared to argue, but Mulciber seized hold of his friend's arm and pulled him in the direction of the stairs. No doubt they were off to find Snape, who would be none too pleased about Barty's episode. At this point, Regulus did not particularly care. He may not have had much in common with Sirius, but Regulus did at least share a mutual dislike of one Severus Snape. The boy had no hygiene, no taste in friends, and masqueraded as a pureblood. Regulus did not consider himself prejudiced, not like some people like the Malfoys and his own parents were. But he did think there was a certain shame in pretending to be something simply to fit in. Shaking his head and abandoning the line of thought, Regulus returned his attention to Barty, who was still seething.
"They're gone now. And there's no reason to get all upset," Regulus reopened his Transfiguration book as a makeshift shield. Barty shot him a glare, half-hidden by the hair that had fallen in his face.
"Nobody respects us. Nobody respects me."
"Of course they do," Regulus said. "They left, didn't they?"
"Because you told them to, not because I did anything," Barty grumbled, glaring at the floor now and tapping his wand against the sofa cushions. Regulus considered pointing out that this was perhaps because there were first years who were taller than Barty, but he valued his personal safety over honesty at the moment.
"You got their attention at least. And if you want to boss people around because of your dad, go right ahead. There are plenty of people who already do."
"I don't want a thing from my dad," Barty sneered, jabbing his wand into the sofa cushions for emphasis. "Not a thing."
Regulus pretended to turn his attention to his homework as Barty continued prodding at the cushions, turning the upholstery various shades of yellow. After a moment, the smaller boy spoke again, this time his voice much more level.
"I wanted to be in Hufflepuff you know. I think that's where my dad wanted me to be."
The tone was light and conversational, but Regulus picked up on the unspoken dare to poke fun, to challenge the value of anyone who wanted to be in Hufflepuff. Sirius used the same tone whenever he brought up anything involving the word Gryffindor over the course of family dinners.
"And I wanted to be in Ravenclaw. There's nothing wrong with Hufflepuff or any of the other houses."
"Did you really?" Barty abandoned his attack on the sofa entirely, wide eyes looking directly at Regulus for the first time.
"Want to be in Ravenclaw? Of course. I like books, I like studying, I much prefer the color blue," Regulus smirked and plucked at the green pillow beside him, earning a snicker from Barty, "And perhaps my brother would still be speaking to me."
Barty frowned at this, nodding slowly as his gaze drifted back to the floor.
"I always liked the sound of Hufflepuff. All bright and cheerful and lots of parties. And like I said, I think that's what my dad was hoping for. Probably would've reacted better at least."
"Well, I suppose the hat disagreed with both of us," Regulus said slowly. "Not that I'm complaining about being here, mind you."
"Course not. I'm starting to like Slytherin," Barty agreed, grinning wickedly. "Everybody respects Slytherins. Catches peoples' attention. Makes them wonder what you're up to."
"An excellent point," Regulus agreed, abandoning his Transfiguration book entirely. There was another pause in the conversation as Barty stared into the firelight, face cast into shadow and sharp angles.
"I want to do something that will drive my dad mad," the strawberry blond boy declared at last. "He wants me to go into the Ministry. I think I'd rather do something that gets lots of attention."
"Like what?" Regulus slipped his homework back into his bag, turning and placing his feet on the cold stone floor. Barty shrugged and pinched the bridge of his nose, an indicator of deep thought.
"I dunno...a hit-wizard or something. Something exciting and slightly illegal."
The idea of tiny Barty Crouch as a hit-wizard was highly amusing, and Regulus barely suppressed a laugh he knew would have unleashed his cousin's temper once more.
"Personally I'm just hoping to find something that my family will be proud of. At least one of us has to uphold the name of the House of Black."
"Wouldn't it be brilliant," Barty glanced eagerly up to Regulus, eyes blazing with something more than the firelight. "If whatever we end up doing, we do it together?"
"I suppose it would," Regulus agreed, unsure of the actual likelihood that he would find a career similar to Barty's but willing to agree. Regulus, after all, was hoping for a nice, respectable job with lots of influence and just the right amount of power. Barty seemed quite determined to do something utterly mad, simply to get back at his father. Of course, they had five years to decide what precisely either of them wanted to do about any sort of careers. Things were always shifting and changing in the world, Regulus knew, and a lot could change in five years' time.