The end of September melted into the beginning of October and Regulus' boring life continued from one class to the next. The weekends were covered in homework and that was that.
Except it wasn't. Compared to last year, it was quite... different. The atmosphere in the Slytherin Common Room was more tense, and especially the older students were constantly on edge. They jumped up whenever anyone entered the Common Room and didn't relax until after the door was shut again. They spoke in hushed tones, seemed to move about more stiffly than before, and kept mentioning the low student count in First Year and the option of dropping out and moving to another country.
It was contagious. Only a few days after noticing their behaviour, he caught himself looking up at the door when it opened. He caught himself holding his breath whenever someone raised his voice, and he caught himself being nervous to enter the busy Great Hall.
By mid-October he was a jittery mess, having possibly even surpassed the older Slytherins in their nervosity. He was working on an essay he had to write for History of Magic (on the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards) in the library, and he had nearly finished it when a loud bang came from the back and had him jump from his seat. He knocked over his inkwell in the process and within seconds both the desk he sat at and the parchment that held his carefully constructed essay were drenched.
His heart still beating in his chest from the initial scare, he didn't pay the mess he'd left another thought. He was too focused on figuring out what had caused the bang. It was a library! Things didn't just blow up in there without reason. No, there had to be something that did this, there had to be some reason for it...
He took a few breaths and decided to search for himself—he wasn't a coward. Of course, he was no Gryffindor, but he wasn't a coward. He made his way over to where he was sure the sound had come from, at the very back of the library behind many of the tall bookcases that blocked it from view. He inched closer and closer...
"Someone's coming!" Sirius' voice called from behind another bookcase. There were quick footsteps, and he caught glimpses of his brother from between the books. He was swatting the air around his head as if trying to do away with invisible flies as he ran around the bookcase. He stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted Regulus. He crossed his arms. "Why are you here?" he said, his voice suddenly calm.
"It's the library."
"Are you following me?"
"What? No-"
"Any particular reason you're following me, or do you simply lack hobbies?"
"I have hobbies!"
"Oh, yeah? Such as?"
"Lots of things! Like... like..." He scratched his head. What were his hobbies? He liked many things, but he disliked more. He liked to watch the stars, he liked to spend time with Sirius (but that was a dumb thing to say, so he couldn't use that), he liked to play chess, but only with Sirius, yet Sirius refused to play chess any more because he was 'too good' at it—that were his own words, of course, for Regulus knew Sirius had rarely won a game. Sirius was a poor loser, that was all. But hobbies! Something that didn't include his brother, something that made him his own person. He settled on "Astronomy".
"That's a subject, dummy, not a hobby."
"Well... why can't it be both?"
"That's just not how it works."
"What are you doing in the library, then? Because I was working on an essay, you're running around as if you're being chased or something—you aren't, right? Being chased?" he added, suddenly worried something was seriously wrong with his brother, or that he was in some sort of trouble.
Sirius was taken aback by the question and seeing his bewildered look on his face made him feel a bit better—it hadn't been serious, so now it was quite fun to watch him search for a believable explanation. He already knew it would be a lie before Sirius uttered the words "working on homework", although those made it even more obvious. Sirius Black did not do homework, and certainly not in the library.
"What kind of homework?" he asked innocently.
That same face, the lost look in his eyes lasted even shorter this time, but Regulus still had to fight the laugh that wanted to escape his lips.
"Er... Mug—no, er, Transfiguration! Yes, that's it, I'm, err, working on an... essay! An essay on... errr..."
He decided to help his brother. "Whatever you're planning, keep me out of it."
Sirius saluted him. "Yes, sir!"
"SIRIUS!" it sounded from across the library, rapid footsteps following it and coming closer until Potter came into sight, completely covered in soot.
"Oh," he said, clearly disappointed, "that was the threat? Junior?"
"Aye," said Sirius cheerfully, putting a hand on Regulus' shoulder. "You're not telling anyone, are you?"
"Tell what?"
"Exactly! Come, James, let's get going."
"I think I'll shower first," laughed Potter, "but then we'll continue."
"Sounds like a plan!"
Potter was off again, leaving Regulus and Sirius standing alone rather awkwardly. Sirius removed his hand off Regulus' shoulder. "I should go," he said.
"No—wait."
Sirius waited.
"Have they sent you any owls?"
"What?"
"Mother and Father..."
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Why would they send me an owl? My birthday isn't for-"
"Not for your birthday, just... in general."
"They never send me stuff."
"Oh." Not that he got an abundance of letters last year, but he hadn't received anything yet and it was rather worrisome to him—but to not get letters at all? From no-one? (Cissy didn't count. She was different.)
"What about Bella or Cissy?"
"Ha! No."
"Do you get any letters at all?"
Sirius was silent, and Regulus feared he knew the answer. He had seen the answer. "You get letters from—from her, right?"
"Who put you up to this?"
"No-one! I'm just curious..."
"Go be curious elsewhere. I do have stuff to do, you know." Sirius walked off and Regulus didn't try and stop him. Somehow, he had messed up again. He shook his head. It was impossible to find out how or when or why. He better just clean up the mess he created at the table, at least that was something he could understand.
On Hallowe'en morning he woke up to two things: the scent of pumpkin and cinnamon wafting from the kitchen... and the annoying, hight-pitched, fake sweet voice of Avery waking up one of the halfbloods.
"Wakey-wakey Corny-Corn!" it went, thrice, before the halfblood finally awoke.
"Call me that again-" he groaned.
"And you'll what? Come on, it's Hallowe'en—Professor Green told me she's got something special planned for today."
"She has?"
Avery hummed and there was a sudden excited rustling of bedsheets and low chatter about what the surprise could be.
Regulus waited in his bed until he heard the door to the dormitory close, and everything went silent. But when he opened the curtains around his bed, he was greeted by Avery.
"Good morning-"
"If you call me some stupid nickname, I'll hex you," he murmured, getting out of bed.
"That's no fun." He fake pouted. "And here I thought you'd be more excited about today."
"Oh yeah? Why's that?"
"Muddy's got something special planned," he said. 'Muddy' was the nickname Avery had given their new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, although he appeared to only use it when the halfbloods weren't around—he was sneaky, that Avery, and it was another thing Regulus despised about him. He was the Mudblood's favourite student for Merlin's sake!
"You want to know what she has planned?" he continued, "because I know what it is—and it's something I'm better at than you. Not that that narrows it down."
"Well, I'll beat you," said Regulus.
Avery laughed that idiotic laugh. "We'll see."
And so he finished getting ready and spent the entire morning wondering about what the Mudblood had planned. What could be so important Avery felt the need to tell everyone about it? He tried to think of a few different scenarios, the best of which involved cancelling the class, the worst would be an essay on the origins of Hallowe'en.
Thankfully (though he was somewhat disappointed she hadn't cancelled the lesson) it wasn't an essay; she announced that they'd be up against a dark creature for the first time.
"That's the plan? What's fun about just another lesson?"
"You'll see."
The teacher walked over to a tank that stood behind her desk and tapped her wand against the glass. A small, horned creature came into view, its long fingers pressed against the wall of the tank. "Which of you can tell me what this is?"
Regulus looked around the room. Most students stared at the creature in horror; a few raised their hands. He wasn't surprised when Avery was picked to answer.
"It's a Grindylow, Professor," he said.
"Very good, yes—this here is an adult Grindylow. Creepy, isn't it? Well, with it being Hallowe'en and all-"
"You don't actually expect us to fight that thing, do you, Professor?" one of the Gryffindors complained.
"I thought you Gryffindors were all about unnecessary danger," Avery sneered.
"Well I prefer to leave this classroom alive, thank you very much."
"Children, children! You'll not be fighting Grindylows today—nor any other day, I should hope. No, we're starting out fairly small: Cornish Pixies."
A collective groan followed. "I think I'd've preferred Grindylows," the Gryffindor from before complained loudly.
"This is your idea of fun?" he whispered to Avery.
"Pixies are hilarious."
"If you say so..."
The teacher went on about Cornish Pixies and how best to fight them, what they looked like... she told them about their weaknesses, but Regulus just couldn't bring himself to pay attention. Pixies?! That was child's play. There had to be more to it—he side-eyed Avery, who lounged in his chair. He knew more. This wasn't fun, especially not for Avery, whose idea of fun literally included setting people on fire.
He turned his attention back to the lesson when she had them all take out their wands and practice the movement and name of the spell they'd be using—"Immobulus!"
Everyone had been instructed to practise with their wands pointed to the floor, so it took Regulus several moments to realise what had happened when the Mudblood professor ceased to move. But it was Avery, who had pointed his wand at the teacher when practising. And his spell had been successful. So now she stood still, unable to move a muscle.
He grinned at Avery, who shot him a look of fake innocence. "Oh no, whatever could've happened!"
A wave of laughter went through the class as more people realised what they were looking at, but the happy atmosphere didn't last long. Several pupils had already carefully approached the Grindylow, and it was eyeing them in anger. Others – including the Peasegoods – had gone over to the Mudblood to ask if she was okay, but she obviously wasn't able to answer any of their questions in any way.
When he looked back to Avery, he wasn't there. Not even a second later, the room was filled with the high-pitched shrieks of Cornish Pixies—then there was chaos.
The pixies shot in every direction, and Regulus quickly dived beneath his desk for protection. He closed his eyes so he could think, but he couldn't hear his thoughts over the sound of windows smashing, books being thrown around the classroom, pupils screaming and shouting...
The white tablecloth kept him from seeing the full extent of the chaos. But he heard the deafening roar, he was blinded by the flashes of light that came out of nowhere – red, white, orange, blue – shooting his way with immense speed.
He curled up beneath the desk, shaking from head to toe as he heard the bricks clattering down on the table. Something broke, something was burning—he could smell the fire, he could smell the melted debris. But he didn't get up to look.
There was a jet of red light going through the white cloth, nearly hitting his head—there were voices disrupting the sudden silence, and he opened his eyes a little bit to see who they were for they were familiar yet he couldn't recognise them... but when he did so, he only saw the hospital wing.
He looked around and the voices he'd heard took shape in the form of the Peasegoods and Avery, who were arguing and didn't seem to notice he was already awake.
He pulled himself up into a sitting position. He'd been here two weeks ago. Two weeks! He really had to find a way to stay out of here.
"You're up, then?" Avery suddenly asked.
Obviously, he thought.
"You went all shakey back there. You could've said you're afraid of Pixies."
"I'm not afraid of Pixies."
Avery laughed. "Sure you aren't."
"If he says he's not afraid then he's not afraid," Arnold came to his defence.
"Shakey or not, he was hit by a stunner—anyone would pass out from that, wouldn't they?" Catharina added.
"Not me, I wouldn't," claimed Avery. "And certainly not in a way I'd need to come here."
"Why are you even here?!"
"Can't I check up on my favourite classmates?"
She gave him a glare.
"Between this or class the choice is an easy one, you know."
"Bugger off, Avery," said Arnold.
"Yeah, if you're just here to get out of class, we don't want you—do we, Regulus?"
He shook his head, though he mainly wished the arguing would stop and he'd be left alone. He didn't want any of them to visit.
But it wasn't up to him to choose. A few moments after Avery had left, Pomfrey appeared and did a final check on him before sending him out. He was 'fine', apparently. There was no escaping the twins.
It was too late to go to their next class, which would only last for about fifteen more minutes, so they had fifteen whole minutes to themselves in a mostly empty castle.
"What should we do now?" asked Catharina as they walked along the corridor.
"We could play exploding snap," offered Arnold.
"Not again, we played it yesterday."
"Gobstones, then?"
"I don't know... I—ARGH!"
Catharina topplied over, and the rug she'd been walking on was now flying in front of them. Then something hard hit the back of his head. "Ow," he mumbled, rubbing the sore spot only to be hit with more of the same—and so were the Peasegoods. Catharina was hack on her feet but now had to fight off pieces of chalk that were propelled towards her by none other than Hogwarts' very own poltergeist: Peeves.
"Run!"
They tried to get away from him, but Peeves was much faster and had the added bonus of being able to float through walls where they had to use doors. He could also easily descent through the floor whilst they needed stairs. He knew the castle's ins and outs, and they did not.
When they finally reached the Common Room, they were covered in bruises and hurting all over. They fell down on the sofas to rest, to catch their breath, and to recover from the long run. Peeves remained the most annoying part of Hogwarts—a school where you're attacked by a bored poltergeist, who would allow such a thing?! If it was his school he'd have removed Peeves ages ago.
But it wasn't his school, so Peeves was still there. That much became obvious when his shrill laugh echoed through the empty Common Room, and a moment later, all three of them were covered in waste.
"PEEVES!" he called out in a rage, jumping up from the sofa. He was ready to fight this poltergeist if it came to it, but Peeves was nowhere to be seen. "Show yourself, Peeves!"
Again, his laugh sounded, but no more than that. Then, the door to the Common Room opened and the three of them jumped up only to see Avery entering. They relaxed again, briefly, before Peeves' laugh startled them again.
"Why are you dressed in waste?" asked Avery, though the smile on his face suggested he already knew.
"That's Peeves' work," said Arnold bitterly. "PEEVES!"
"You must help us get rid of him. He keeps following us, throwing things at us..."
"I must? Oh, then it certainly is serious, if I must help... Peeves?"
Peeves appeared at once when Avery called and took off his top hat to greet him.
"Thank you for your service," Avery said, grinning. "You're dismissed now. Go bother other people—classes should end soon."
Peeves nodded to him, put his top hat back on and turned back around to Regulus and the Peasegoods. He blew one giant raspberry and then he left.
They could finally breathe again, and, exhausted, they fell back onto the sofa.
Two days had gone by since Peeves' assault in which nothing happened. They had no further encounters with the poltergeist, nor Filch or anyone else unpleasant.
Regulus made sure to be on time at every meal and for every class since, not because he was afraid of Peeves (OK, perhaps it played a small role) but because he couldn't afford to miss any more classes—Second Year was already proving to be more difficult than the first. The workload already resembled that of last spring, when they were working towards the end of year exams.
On the third day after the assault, he sat in the Great Hall for breakfast as early as he could. There were only a few other students there, mostly Ravenclaws, so it made for an easy start of the day. He quite liked the peace and the quiet it brought him. However, when the Great Hall was still mostly empty by half eight, he started to wonder if anything was wrong. Where was everyone? Where was Avery? Where were the Peasegoods?
He got out his timetable to see what their first lesson would be. Perhaps it was History of Magic and they decided to sleep in—there was hardly a difference between sleeping in class and sleeping in a bed in terms of knowledge anyway, although a bed was more comfortable, so he had to give them that.
He scanned it, going through the days, when he realised – with a jolt – that today was Saturday. There was no first lesson, because there were no lessons at all, and everyone was likely having a lie-in... something he could've done as well if only he had kept track of the days. He mentally slapped himself for being such an idiot and thought about how to use his time now that sleep was out of the question. Perhaps he could work some more on his homework in the library, although the library tended to be quite busy these days. The Common Room, then? But it was hardly a place to get anything done with people playing exploding snap in every corner. Saturday was a difficult day.
He was about to get up, to at least put his schoolbag away, when he spotted Sirius at the entrance with his three cronies. They were laughing (about something stupid, no doubt) and waving their arms. They were louder than they should be. They walked past the Slytherin table towards Gryffindor and Sirius pulled something out of the pocket of his robes. He put it on his head; it was some sort of diadem. The other three boys burst out in laughter again at this, but Regulus thought it was rather childish—and Sirius was the older brother? Ha!
He stared at them as they reached Gryffindor table and sat down. They continued to laugh amongst themselves, they laughed so loudly it sounded across the Hall. They had breakfast, and Regulus stared at them all the while. More and more students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw arrived and they mostly blocked his sight, but he worked his way around them to still catch glimpses of his brother.
He was rarely in such a good mood at home. Actually, he was never in a mood so good he couldn't stop laughing. He'd never seen him this way, aside from that time last year when he was invited to join them in the kitchens...
His gaze was forced away from his brother by Bartemius Crouch, who stood afore him. He waved, and Regulus deliberately looked the other way. Stupid First Year Hufflepuffs an their stupid ideas of friendship. Why did no-one in this castle understand he didn't want to talk? First Avery, then the Peasegoods, now a bloody Hufflepuff! Of all things!
He waited until he was sure that Crouch would be gone, then he looked back towards Gryffindor table. The Great Hall was quite crowded now, but he could catch his brother's voice out of the million and it brought him in the right direction. It also helped that Sirius and that Potter were currently on top of the table instead of sitting down at it as normal people do.
He frowned, but watched as they did a dance of sorts. For a moment, they even made eye contact. Or had he imagined that? But Sirous jumped off the table and made his way over to the doors—no, he took a turn, and ended up in front of a very unprepared Regulus.
"Well?" Sirius said, crossing his arms. He still had the diadem on his head, so it didn't look very intimidating (if that was what he was going for).
"What?"
"You've been staring at me ever since I came in, presumably for a reason—since you lack the courage to come over to me, I'm kind enough to give you the opportunity to wish me a happy birthday here."
In that moment, it was as if all time had stopped. He was nauseous, and at the same time, not. The world was spinning but he could see clearly. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks; he had forgotten his brother's birthday. His birthday! Sirius was fourteen today. He had to rectify it, do something for his brother to make today unforgettable—and he barely had any time to come up with a plan.
Time hadn't stopped, however. Sirius still stood on the other side of the Slytherin table and he still had his arms crossed, but the look on his face was one of prolonged annoyance and increasing impatience.
"Er—happy birthday," he said, forcing a smile. It was the least he could do.
"Cheers," said Sirius, and he turned to leave again.
He leaned over the table and grabbed hold of his sleeve. "Stay. Please."
Sirius looked at him, considering the idea. Just when Regulus was convinced his brother would decline the offer, he sat down. "Just a few minutes, then."
He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."
A few of the Slytherins around them turned to look at Sirius, but most everyone minded their own business. Sirius and he had all the time in the world. He didn't pretend it wasn't awkward – it certainly was – but he did try and make the best of it. He forced another smile and passed his brother some eggs, but Sirius declined.
"I'm only here because you asked," Sirius reminded him.
But Regulus had no idea what to talk about, if anything at all. Just sitting here, at the Slytherin table, together... it was more than he ever dared to hope for. If he tried hard enough, he could even trick himself into believing it was real; they were both Slytherins, at breakfast, preparing for another day at Hogwarts.
He could pretend that after all this time, everything was the way it was supposed to be.
