"Sirius!"

They reached the Owlery and his brother was scrubbing the floor. He glanced up, shook his head, then continued his scrubbing.

Regulus crouched down beside him. "What are you doing?"

"He's got detention, haven't you?" Narcissa asked when he didn't answer.

Sirius grunted in response.

"Detention? School hasn't even started yet!"

"Doesn't stop teachers from handing out detentions," Sirius replied.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Come," said Narcissa, "we were here to post a letter."

"Bragging to mummy and daddy about your adventure yesterday?"

"No. Just... telling them I'm in Slytherin."

He had debated lengthening the letter to complain about being attacked, to complain about his halfblood dormmates, to complain about the nonsense of the school, which seemed to have been specifically designed to be confusing. And it's a school! As if the founders wanted to play some cruel joke on the entire wizarding world for years to come by deciding to stuff all of the children into this big castle to torment them.

But he didn't. And he wasn't entirely sure why.

"I'm sure they'll love that," said Sirius and Regulus beamed.

"I hope so!"

He rolled his eyes and continued scrubbing as Narcissa pulled on his sleeve. "Come."

He handed the letter to one of the school owls and told it to find Mother and Father, then they said goodbye to Sirius and left.

"They're stupid," he said as they climbed down the stairs again.

"Who?"

"Those halfbloods. They said they want to get me out of the room or something. Change dorms... and they called me Mr. Bigotry, and think I'll kill them, and-"

"Regulus, don't mind them," she interrupted. "They're not worth it."

He stopped walking and folded his arms. "Well I don't like it. And I don't like Hogwarts."

"Don't be silly—of course you like Hogwarts. It's just different to what you're used to, that's all."

"At least at home I don't get beat up!"

"Consider it a rite of passage. I can't even count the amount of times Bella and..." she briefly closed her eyes, correcting herself. "Bellatrix has been in there far more often and she's doing fine."

"Well I'm not Bella!"

She sighed. "I know. And neither am I. I can't make your problems go away, Reg. I'm sorry..." She patted his back. "How about I take you on a tour through the castle?"

"All right," he said, and he tried to be somewhat happy about it.

The castle was mostly deserted, with many of the children outside in the sun, enjoying the warmth as long as they could—the summer had been disappointingly wet and chilly so they seized any opportunity to bask in sunlight.

And it gave them some peace and quiet. The castle itself was disruptive enough, with 142 staircases—some of which had a will of their own and lead somewhere else entirely on a Friday, others had vanishing steps you had to remember to jump over ("it's easy once you get the hang of it," she said, but he'd have preferred never needing to get the hang of such ridiculous things!), and there was even a swivelling staircase on the third floor...

And that wasn't even all. The doors were even worse—some of them weren't even doors at all, just walls pretending to be doors. Others were actual doors, but only opened if asked nicely, or if tickled.

Honestly! How was anyone supposed to get any work done in this sorry excuse for a school.

The residents of the castle were no better. There were several that were to be avoided: Moaning Myrtle, a girl ghost killed in the 1940s was annoying, slightly creepy but mostly harmless. Then there was Nearly Headless Nick (or 'Sir Nicholas' as he preferred) who was not creepy at all but a bit gorey and annoying as he only spoke of his beheading. The Grey Lady, of Ravenclaw, was simply depressing, and Peeves was the worst of all—he liked to wreck havoc. Just what a school needed.

Slytherin's Bloody Baron (another creepy but harmless ghost) was the only one who could control Peeves, but he mostly didn't.

The last resident was Hufflepuff's 'Fat Friar', who was actually very friendly and would gladly point you in the right direction. That was possibly the only upside to ghosts living in the castle.

By the time they finished their tour and reached the Great Hall, it was time for supper.

He sat with Narcissa and some seventh-year girls who didn't mind his presence, but he could feel the eyes of the rest of the Hall burning on his back. It was very uncomfortable and he rushed through the food so that he could leave as quickly as possible.

"I'll be in the Common Room," he told Narcissa who was still eating when he finished.

"You know the way?"

He nodded and got up.

"Mr Black."

Regulus turned around to see Professor Slughorn, Head of Slytherin House. "A quick word, please," the man said.

Regulus looked to Narcissa, who was eyeing Professor Slughorn herself. "What do you need him for, sir?"

"Private matters," said Professor Slughorn, "but nothing for you to worry about, Miss Black, nothing to worry about indeed. Mr Black, if you would follow me to my office..."

Professor Slughorn's office was hidden behind one of the Potions classrooms Narcissa had shown him moments ago. It was a cramped, damp room with a big, round table in the middle. It seemed to be set up to host twenty or so people. There were pictures on the walls of people he didn't know nor recognise, though he waved back at them nonetheless.

"Mr Black," said Professor Slughorn again, as he sat down on one of the chairs at the table. "Do you have any idea why you're here?"

"No, sir."

"Sit," he said, gesturing to one of the chairs.

Regulus hesitated, but sat down. The chair was uncomfortable, to say the least. Wooden, hard, and it creaked a little under his weight (it was a miracle Slughorn's hadn't collapsed).

"Some of your dormmates seem to be under the impression you intend to curse them," said Slughorn as he stroked his greying moustache, "you wouldn't happen to know more about this, would you?"

He shook his head. "No, I don't know where they're getting that from, sir. I don't even know any curses."

Professor Slughorn shook his head in disbelief. "There is a reason they came to me, Mr Black."

He balled his fists. He wasn't the one cursing someone's eyes shut with yesterday! He wasn't the one jumping someone yesterday!

"Regardless of whether or not you intend to hex them-"

"I don't want to hex anyone!"

"In that case, it might be best not to threathen them with such things."

Regulus groaned. Why wouldn't this stupid teacher just take his word for it? He wasn't threatening anyone—it wasn't his fault those dumb halfbloods decided to be scared of him! Avery had been right, he couldn't hex them even if he did want to do so! He was a first-year, for Merlin's sake! How was he supposed to know any of that?

"May I leave, Professor?" he asked, trying his best not to show his anger and frustration. He was a Black. He couldn't falter now.

Slughorn sighed. "If you must, if you must... Try not to cause any more trouble..."

Regulus strolled out of the office without another word, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. He resisted the urge to slam the door, resisted the urge to shout at him that he already wasn't causing any trouble, and he wasn't going to suddenly change that. He was a Black, not a troublemaker!

He was stranded in one of the many dimly-lit corridors of the Hogwarts dungeons with no real idea of where to go. He had secretly expected (and certainly hoped) that his cousin would have been here, waiting for him, so he could tell her all about how horrible Slughorn had been to him.

He kicked one of the stone walls in frustration—ow! He hopped on one leg, holding his left foot and stroking his toe through his shoe. There were a lot of things he wanted to yell at that wall, but nothing came out.

Of course it was this exact moment someone chose to enter this corridor, and of course this someone was Avery.

And of course he laughed that stupid laugh of his. He had dumb halfblood roommates and an even more idiotic pureblood one he couldn't stand. Just his luck.

He tried his best to stand up straight and ignore his painful toe.

"Didn't your parents teach you to dance properly?" Avery asked, shaking his head in amusement. "I forgot—you're never invited to events. Silly me, you never needed to know, before. Not to worry, Black, I can help you out."

"I wasn't dancing."

"You weren't? Could've fooled me."

"Why are you like this?"

Avery just laughed that annoying laugh again and oh, how Regulus wished he could wipe that laugh off his stupid face... He dug his fingernails deeper into his palms—he shouldn't show his anger, not here, and especially not after Avery just saw him hopping on one foot because he already failed to contain his emotions. He was better than that.

"There you are!"

An older boy ran through the corridor. He panted heavily as he stopped next to Avery, steadying himself against the wall. He took a few deep breaths. "I've been—Regulus?"

The boy's mouth fell open but he quickly closed it again, turning it into a smile. Regulus frowned. He knew that face, from somewhere...

"Evan," he remembered.

"You hang out with Black?" Avery interrupted their little reunion with a sneer.

"Wouldn't say 'hang out'. We just... know each other. My aunt married his uncle," Evan Rosier explained with a shrug.

So that was how they were related. Narcissa wasn't joking when she said they never saw non-family members—he didn't even know anything about Aunt Druella's family (or that of anyone else, for that matter)! Aunt Lucretia had never even brought home that husband of hers...

Aunt Lucretia.

He hadn't spared her a single thought all summer! What kind of nephew was he? He desperately hoped she was all right, if only so he could apologise for this (but mostly because if she wasn't all right... he'd never forgive himself. That he was sure of).

"Hey, Regulus," Evan said, playfully poking his arm. "Stay with us, won't you?"

He blinked, pushed Aunt Lucretia to the back of his mind again and smiled at the two boys. Avery looked as if he had been forced to eat live flobberworms and be happy about it, but Evan smiled back. "Let's head to the library, I've got something to tell you both."

"Us both," Avery repeated. "You cannot be serious about this, Rosier."

"Oh but I am," he said, cheerfully pulling on both Regulus' and Avery's arms to come with him.

Regulus was more than happy to oblige, but Avery yanked his arm free from Evan's grip. "Black can't be trusted."

Evan rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but Avery silenced him. "He isn't like us. He doesn't understand the situation the way we do, we just can't be sure that he-"

"I'm right here," Regulus interjected, "and I'm not stupid, you know."

Again, that ugly laugh Avery laughed sent shivers down his spine.

"Shut up," muttered Evan, "you look like a fool."

Avery stopped laughing at once, his face flushing red. He glared at both Evan and Regulus, then stormed off.

"Come on, let's go to the library," Evan sighed and pulled on his arm again.

Regulus followed him up staircases he had never even seen before—or had he? It was hard to tell. Whoever designed this place was insane. Couldn't they have just used a big castle? A big castle would still have taken some getting used to, yes, but at least it would have been possible to get used to it—just as he had got used to his own house in London with great ease, how he navigated his cousins' manor, how he never got lost at his grandparents'...

He did not like Hogwarts.

He followed Evan to a table in the far off corner of the library. There were already some people there: a brutish, square-jawed boy sat bent over a piece of parchment alongside a boy who looked a lot like Avery. Opposite them sat a sallow, greasy-haired boy with a long hooked nose. He was scribbling away in a book—scandalous, mutilating books!

Evan sat down next to the Avery copy and Regulus stood awkwardly by the table, the only remaining empty chairs being next to the greasy boy... He really didn't want to get too close; he boy didn't look very healthy, and he didn't want to risk catching whatever it was he had. It was only his second day here, going to the hospital wing twice in as many days wasn't something he fancied.

"What's that you got there?" Evan asked the boys bent over the parchment.

"Letter from home. Here, it's got this from the Prophet," they brutish boy pushed a copy of the Sunday Prophet towards Evan.

"Who's that?" Avery number two asked as he saw Regulus standing there.

"Regulus Black," Evan said.

"A Black? You brought a Black? Are you out of your mind?!"

"You brought the greasy halfblood," the brutish boy said, nodding towards the greasy haired boy, who had stopped writing but kept his head down. "If he can come, why not a Black? If he's interested, that is..."

"He is," said Evan. "I've known him for a bit. Known his family-"

"His family are cowards," the Avery lookalike said.

"That's not true!" Regulus slammed his fist on the table and all four boys stared at him. He felt the blood flood to his head but he didn't look away. "And you do not know my family."

Evan cleared his throat after a few seconds and broke the deafening silence. "So this village was wiped out last night... why, exactly?"

The brutish boy raised his eyebrows. "Daddy didn't tell you?"

Evan shot him a glare.

"Obviously not," the Avery copy sniggered.

"The Order of the Phoenix headquarters was located there," the greasy haired boy said, looking up from the book for the first time, "and they gathered a large number of supporters in the town. Eliminating the town got rid of the threat altogether." He looked back at his book as if nothing had happened.

Regulus watched as the three other boys stared at the greasy boy with open mouths.

"How did you-"

"I read," came the boy's retort. "You should try it sometime."

"Go on, sit down," Evan said, "he doesn't bite."

"Usually," added the brutish boy.

He hesitated but sat down on the chair, leaving an empty one between him and the greasy halfblood.

"I'm Eitan Avery, and this is my friend Adonis Mulciber," he said, nudging the brutish boy. "And that there is Severus Snape."

"Nice to meet you," he said.

"Regulus!"

He froze in his seat as Narcissa ran towards their table. "What is the meaning of this? You boys are supposed to be playing games, collecting Chocolate Frog cards—something age appropriate!"

"You're supposed to be minding your own business, Black. No more boyfriends or sisters to protect you," Mulciber sneered.

She wrinkled her nose. "Come, Regulus. This is no place for you."

"It's the library."

"You know perfectly well what I mean," she said, putting a firm hand on his shoulder. "Come."

None of the boys, not even Evan, helped him out. He surrendered and let her drag him off out of the library.

"You stay away from those boys, you hear me?" she said as they went down the marble steps.

"But they were nice to me."

"Find other boys to be nice to. I mean it, Regulus. You don't want to be dragged down with them."

"That's just not fair! Nobody else is nice to me—they all glare at me, look at me as if I'm nothing! Even Professor Slughorn thinks I'm trouble."

They reached the Entrance Hall and Narcissa pulled him into the small room Professor McGonagall had led them into on his first night here.

"Listen to me. You're doing this to yourself—no, listen. Blend in with the crowd. Don't advertise you're a Black, ignore people who are mean to you. Don't get involved in any more trouble."

"I don't get involved in any trouble."

"You ended up in the hospital wing for a reason, Regulus. People here get violent fast, words as Mudblood set off a chain reaction. I would not surprised if most of the school hates you by now."

"Those boys don't."

She sighed. "They aren't to be trusted. Believe me."

"I trust Evan."

"You barely know him. I wouldn't be so trustworthy if I were you."

"Well you're not me!"

"But I am your cousin and I will look out for you."

"Fine," he spat. "I'll be in my dorm the next seven years, then."

"I'm not doing this to bully you," she spoke softly. "I'm only trying to help."

"Well you're not helping. The boys were talking about vanishing villages and it was actually interesting!"

"They are involved in things they shouldn't be involved in. And neither should you," she reiterated.

"Why not?"

"Because you're too young."

Wonderful. That same excuse everyone used all the bloody time. It only angered him more that she was so... calm, so collected as she spoke. It made his blood boil.

He left the small room and Narcissa went after him. "I'm going to bed," he said.

"I'll walk you there."

He resisted the urge to scream at her and hurried down the steps towards the dungeons. They went to the Common Room and he stormed off to his dormitory without another word. Oh, how he hated Narcissa right now. He was so furious he wished she'd drop dead. That way she'd get out of his hair. She was a stupid, scheming, meddling... ARGH! She was just so annoying!

The halfbloods were already in the dorm as he entered. He didn't know their names and didn't bother trying to learn them either—they didn't deserve it.

They stopped talking and stares at him as he walked over to his bed. He was getting so sick of all this staring. If only he actually knew curses...

He sat down on his bed and closed the curtains, which prompted the halfbloods to resume their conversation in hushed tones. Idiots. Did they not understand how curtains worked? He was still in the room.

Was this normal halfblood behaviour? The Muggle blood must've affected their reasoning. He almost felt bad for them.

He changed into his nightshirt and dropped his clothes on the side of the bed. The house elves would take care of it. He wasn't in the mood to fold them or put them away. He wasn't in the mood for anything, not even sleeping.

He hugged his pillow, tears forming in his eyes but he pushed them away. He bit into the pillow in an attempt to stop the emotions. He hated it here. He hated everything about it.

If he was the headmaster, oh, the things he'd change...