"Evan, where've you been, mate?" Regulus said, mouth full of sausage and tomato.

He sat in a loose circle with his friends on this cold Sunday afternoon, eating brunch. The Great Hall was only half full, but the giant ceiling rewarded those who'd managed to wake up by nine with sunshine, something the real sky hadn't provided in over two weeks. Nothing as good as rich food and sun, Regulus thought.

Evan had wandered in and plopped down outside of the group, next to Regulus, dark circles under his eyes and a long scar running up his cheek. Evan made no answer to the query, just reached for a sausage and took a violent bite out of it. They sat in silence for a minute as he chewed and swallowed.

"Say Regulus," Evan said, a twitch in the corner of his smile, "do you know the sound an eyeball makes popping out of a socket?" Regulus shook his head.

"Pop," Evan said, smacking his lips, making a wet, juicy sound. "Pop and it's gone," Evan said with droll amusement.

He took another bite of the sausage, then looked Regulus in the eye and grinned. "I should tell you. I've got it all set up. You're coming," he said, stacking a plate full of food. "Two weeks," he announced, flashing two fingers in front of Regulus's face."I'll take you, be your personal escort. It'll be fun. You excited?"

Voldemort, Regulus thought. I'll be there. I'll be a part of it, the movement of the decade. Hot acid stirred in his stomach, a churn of apprehension, but excitement fought its way out of the storm into his brain.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, I can't wait."

"Good man," said Evan through a full mouth. He slapped Regulus on the back, getting up to settle in with the rest of the group.

A fortnight, Regulus thought. In a fortnight his life would change for good. And he couldn't be more excited. He shoveled another forkful of eggs into his mouth as he joined the general conversation of the group.