This was written for Hogwarts, term 11, assignment #2 - Agricultural Science Task One: Write about someone feeling unwanted.

It was also written for wifey's Dating Grounds.

It was written... quickly, to put it lightly. I'm not sure how happy I am with it, but ya girl don't have time to write anything else rn. Work sucks. I'm so tired.

.

Summary: Regulus wants to be accepted by the Gryffindors. Two Gryffindors, to be precise, but he knows that it could never happen. Sometimes just sitting in the Gryffindor common room is enough but... maybe it's just too hard to hang around when he knows he's unwanted.

Warnings: Implied depression, implied torture, implied bad home life, shown hatred for a group of people (Slytherins). I think that covers it.

Word count: 942

A Life Unwanted

Regulus didn't exactly know what he was doing sitting on soft cushions surrounded by gold and maroon. It felt wrong. Courage and bravery filled each wall of the room. It was warm. Safe. Welcoming. And he was an intruder. A blemish. A dark stain. He scratched absently at his left forearm.

It was late—or incredibly early Regulus supposed—so no one was in the room with him. He just sat on the armchair closest to the portrait door, the fire flickering and casting shadows throughout the room.

The Slytherin common room wasn't cold, per say, but it didn't hold a candle to the warmth of the Gryffindor common room. Comfort was seeping into Regulus's skin, melting his blood and slowing his heart.

He had snuck at roughly one in the morning, just after the last of the Gryffindors decided to call it a night, and had been sitting curled up in the armchair ever since. It was a ritual for him, one that he was surprised no one caught on to. He sat. Alone. Every night. Never sleeping.

And he usually left just before dawn.

Some nights he would start dozing off, but then the fear of being discovered would jump him back into alertness. He couldn't get caught. If he got caught, he would have to explain himself. He couldn't do that. He couldn't describe what it was like to be surrounded by the blood purists who spoke of unspeakable things and all the others who just let the words be said. He couldn't explain the mark on his arm and how he was tortured into taking it. He couldn't explain the guilt, fear, or contempt.

He couldn't admit, at least not out loud, that he didn't want to be a part of the group of Slytherins that accepted him; he wanted the Gryffindors, two boys in particular, to take him as one of their own.

But he wasn't one of their own. He was an intruder. A blemish. Something unwanted and disliked. Something feared and hated.

Regulus was dozing, lulled into a comfortable rest by the ambiance of flames and warm colors, when the sound of the portrait door opening and closing . His eyes flew open and his head snapped up. Wordlessly, he cast a disillusionment charm on himself.

He briefly wondered what someone was doing up at this hour.

Seconds after the sound of the door, Regulus saw the forms of four boys. He knew, just by the way that they stood, that they were Regulus's brother and his friends. A pain shot through his chest. He ignored it.

"I still can't believe she said yes," Sirius was saying. His whisper was rough, like he was itching to yell but knew better than to do so.

James let out a chuckle that sent a tingle through Regulus' stomach. "I've got game, Pads."

"As if. She feels sorry for you," Remus cut in, speaking in his normal, dry tone of voice. He was still quieter than both James and Sirius. They were talking about Lily; Regulus would be lying if he claimed that he wasn't jealous.

Peter chose that moment to pipe up. "Bedtime. Or else someone's going to catch us out of bed and think we're up to something."

"But we are up to something." Sirius

"That's my point." Peter

"Wormtail's right." This was James now. Regulus sunk further into his cushions, praying to Godric that he wouldn't get caught. "If someone sees we're up late at night, and with what's going to happen to the Slytherins tomorrow… We will be prime suspects."

Regulus bit his lip. He wished he was in bed.

In the dim light, Regulus could see Sirius roll his eyes. "So? The snakes deserve any prank that's directed at them, and I couldn't care less if we get the credit. Hogwarts needs to see that for all their talk, the snakes can't fend off simple little harmless attacks. They are all stupid, selfish, horrible—"

"Love." Remus had stepped closer and cupped Sirius's cheeks with his hands. "Don't. You know better than to judge people by the people of their house."

"Don't you dare compare the corrupt traits of Slytherins to my family," Sirius snapped, pushing Remus away. Regulus could feel his anger even though he was almost across the room. "If they are in that house, it's because they chose to be there. They have the same, horrible ideals as those people I grew up with."

Remus was persistent. "The traits of Slytherin are ambition, cunning, determination, and self preservation. It has absolutely nothing to do with blood purity or ideals or whatever it is that you have in your head."

James chose that moment to speak up. "Pads, I agree with Remus. Not every Slytherin is… well… like your family."

Hope began rising in Regulus's chest. Maybe, just maybe he could find acceptance. Maybe he could be forgiven. Maybe he could be saved.

But then Sirius spoke, and all hope was crushed. "No, James. Every Slytherin is a piece of trash and they all deserve to rot in Azkaban."

Sirius stormed out of the common room, leaving his group of friends in a somewhat sad silence. Regulus knew that they were speaking, but he couldn't hear what they were saying. He couldn't hear anything. He couldn't feel anything. He hurt more than he ever had while the Cruciatus was trained on him.

Light was starting to seep through the windows by the time Regulus realized that he wasn't alone. Numbly, he stood up and made his way back to the Slytherin common room—where he belonged. He knew better than to stay where he was unwanted.