He sat near the High Table with a clear view on the Sorting Hat. It wouldn't be long now before the First Years arrived and he'd get to see which House his new friend would be Sorted into, though he wasn't sure what he'd do if it wasn't Slytherin. It had to be Slytherin.
The First Years were probably already at the castle by now, perhaps they even stood cramped into that small room already, though Professor McGonagall hadn't returned yet. Had he been very nervous this time last year? It was all a blur to him.
He didn't have to wait very long before McGonagall returned to the Great Hall and asked for everyone to be silent and stay still. She gave a small speech about camaraderie and was off again, to get the First Years—there they were. Barty was at the front, just behind McGonagall, followed by a nervous line of students that all walked up to the stool and the Hat.
When the Hat began to sing, some of the Slytherins around him took it as a cue to resume their conversations.
"There's fewer again this year," an older student to his left mumbled.
"Yeah, Mum's thinking about pulling me out too, you know-"
"You're leaving?"
"Might go to Germany. We have family there, it's safer..."
"Us too," another one said, "Dad's even thinking about Australia, nice and far away, you know."
"Or America," another agreed.
He tried his best to focus on the Sorting but couldn't help but wonder what they meant. Leaving? Safer? What on earth were they talking about, wasn't Hogwarts safe enough? Wasn't England – OK, Scotland, but England as well – safe enough? Did they have to get out of Britain just to feel they weren't in danger—in danger of what?!
He glanced up at the teachers' table. Well, that nutter Dumbledore wouldn't be around, for starters, so perhaps leaving wasn't such a bad idea after all.
"Crouch, Bartemius!"
His eyes snapped back to the crowd of First Years and he followed Barty with his gaze, up to the stool where he sat down.
One, two, three... Regulus nearly got to fifteen when the Hat called out: "HUFFLEPUFF!"
Hufflepuff?!
Of all Houses...
That was just wonderful. That boy had been his only chance at something of a friend, and he was a Hufflepuff of all things. Just his luck.
He deliberately looked the other way when he saw Bartemius looking at him. No way he was going to be friendly with a Hufflepuff!
It was hard to keep his attention to the Sorting afterwards, not when thoughts of the Hufflepuff kept stealing him away. This year would be a lonely one if Sirius didn't want to talk to him again. Of course, there were the Peasegoods, and Avery would probably never leave him alone, but that was different. They were annoying, claiming him as if he was a lifeless object to be passed around. But Barty, Barty had been nice to talk to. It had been fun, that train ride. He'd even given him his Chocolate Frog cards!
He was immensely grateful when 'Zwilling, Aaron' took his seat at the Ravenclaw table and the feast began, for he was absolutely famished and it helped to have something else to do.
"So, Regulus, how was your summer?"
He blinked. "What?"
"How was your summer?" Avery, who suddenly appeared on his left, repeated. "Come on, it's an easy enough question."
"Er... fine, I guess." The year had barely started and Avery was already ruining it. He looked back at his food but his hunger had vanished as snow melts in the sun—all Avery's fault, with his stupid comments and useless questions. Couldn't he just eat in peace?
"Mine was wonderful, thank you for asking. See, I was at this wedding when someone enchanted the wedding cake to throw itself at people. You wouldn't happen to know more about that, would you?"
"Er... no?"
Avery laughed that fake laugh Regulus really hadn't missed over the summer. "You're a terrible liar, as always."
"Shut up."
"Oohh, getting feisty, are we?"
He didn't answer. Maybe if he ignored him, he'd leave him alone—or better yet, leave Hogwarts altogether. Maybe then he'd finally have peace. The latter seemed unlikely, though to his surprise Avery did shut up for the rest of the feast.
He only managed to take a few bites of his food before Dumbledore wanted their attention again and the welcoming feast had come to an end. There were only a few things Dumbledore had to announce, the first bring that Professor Blackthorn had moved on to a different career path and that Professor Green would be taking over his job as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, which Regulus was quite happy about, considering his exam at the end of last school year. Perhaps the class would be better this year.
He went on to say that the Forbidden Forest was forbidden, hence the name, and that the Whomping Willow was dangerous and that playing games with it was now forbidden after a boy nearly lost an eye last year—but Regulus hadn't been interested in that anyway, so he didn't care. Lastly, magic was not to be used in-between classes; as if anyone followed that rule!
"Quidditch Try-Outs will be held in the second week of the term," Dumbledore continued. "Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch."
Not long after they were sent to bed and to his surprise, not a single halfblood spoke to him, nor did Avery try and tease him either that night or the following morning.
He spent Sunday going for strolls across the grounds and actually managed to sit in the Common Room without either the Peasegoods or Avery bothering him for several hours and Barty hadn't tried to talk to him yet—he was likely trying to find his place in the castle just as he had last year, so it was no indication that Barty knew he was unwelcome, but it was still good to have some peace and quiet, even at meals.
However, all good things must come to an end and so too did his peace and quiet when the Peasegoods caught up with him on the way to their first Defence Against the Dark Arts class that Monday.
"Did you hear about Professor Blackthorn?" Arnold asked.
"What about him?"
"He's missing. Has been for weeks now."
"Missing?"
"Yeah. Loads of parents were angry, you know, after the end-of-year exams. Some think he just ran off. Others, well..."
"He's been kidnapped," Catharina filled in. "By Death Eaters."
"Why would he-"
"You never know," she said, "some of them might've found what he taught to be unacceptable."
Well, they would've been right to, with end-of-year exams such as those he organised—they ought to be forbidden, honestly! But whether or not he was kidnapped, what mattered was the he was no longer there.
He sat down in his regular seat and was glad to see the Peasegoods hurrying to the back of the class, though he would've preferred it if Avery did the same. Instead they sat next to each other, just as they had so often last year, and trouble started the moment the new teacher introduced herself as Professor Amy Green; Avery leaned closer and whispered into his ear: "that's a Mudblood. My father told me they went to school together. Hufflepuff, I believe."
"They let them teach?!"
"Oh yes, you'd be surprised what that nutter Dumbledore thinks fit for hire. We're lucky she's human."
"What?!"
"If you can all be quiet," the professor said, "then we can actually get on with the lesson. Can anyone here tell me what we know about the classifications Being and Beast?"
A couple of hands went up in the air. Regulus was tempted to raise his own but he couldn't bring himself to actually talk to the Mudblood and found himself wishing Blackthorn was still here...
The rest of the week passed without incident and he barely missed Narcissa's presence at all—he spent his days avoiding the other students and managing his classes and assignments and he had to say he was getting rather good at it.
When Saturday rolled around and marked the end of the first full week back at Hogwarts, Regulus decided to get some studying done in the library. With any luck, if he continued in this way all school year, he wouldn't even need his cheating supplies. So he diligently worked on his first essay for Defence Against the Dark Arts and tried to do it all from memory instead of just copying the textbook; that way, he figured, it would be easier to remember the information later on in the year.
The essay was about which creature was classified as what—Beast or Being. It seemed easy enough at first but it soon became clear that there was no logic behind the system whatsoever. Vampires and Hags were Beings, which both wizards and Muggles also belonged to. This because of their supposed intelligence, but then there were other intelligent creatures that were classified as Beasts, because of aggressive behaviour, such as Sphinxes, or their tendency to consume human flesh (Erklings, for example) and to make matters even more confusing, there were also creatures – most notably the Centaurs and Merpeople – who declined the offer of Being status because they had personal issues with other creatures they considered to be inferior and yet classified as Beings.
To not even begin with the question of Werewolves, whose classification depended on the state of the full moon and whoever made the legislation at the time. It was a chaotic mess and he had to rely on his textbook far more than he had expected to, throwing his entire plan off course, but he was quite proud of himself when he finished the essay before supper—even if it meant he hadn't worked on anything else all day. If that didn't get top marks...
On his way to the Great Hall, Barty bumped into him. Literally.
"Watch where you're going," he spat at him as he recollected himself.
"Sorry, I—Ohh! Regulus! Come, the Giant Squid is out! Come, come!"
Barty pulled on his arm to get him to go with him but he yanked himself free from his grip. "The Giant Squid? And I'd care about that... why, exactly?"
"Caedmun and Dunnel are going to try and tickle it!"
"Good luck to them, then."
"Do you want to-"
"I'm not interested."
"But-"
"Just go, Bartemius. Have fun with the other First Years."
Barty thankfully skidded off and Regulus sighed; it was for the best. Inter-house friendships didn't last, and Hufflepuffs were, well, Hufflepuffs, but it was still sad to see what could've been a potential friend disappear in the distance.
He made his way over to the spot on the grounds they'd agreed upon after Herbology on the following Monday. It was their last class of the day and they had about an hour and a half before supper, which should be long enough to complete the assignment; however, the Peasegoods had to get some things from the Common Room first, so he waited by himself.
After about five minutes, his brother raced past him, broomstick in his hand.
"Where are you going?" he called out.
"Try-Outs, of course! Isn't that why you're outside, to see your big brother become Gryffindor's new Beater?"
"...no."
Sirius laughed grimly. "Meeting that pal of yours, Avery?"
"Avery is no 'pal' of mine."
"Are you sure? You spend a lot of time together."
"Positive. We're just... dormmates." They didn't even spend that much time together!
"Ooohhh, I see how it is. Have fun with your girlfriend!"
He was about to say he didn't have a girlfriend when Catharina greeted him. Sirius was making kissing noises as he slowly backed away towards the Quidditch pitch.
He tried his best to ignore Sirius. "Where's your brother?" he asked.
"Nice to see you, too," she said. "But Arnie's got detention."
"Really? What did he do?"
"Long story short—he hexed Avery."
"As long as it's Avery he hexed..." that wasn't too bad. Might teach him a lesson or two in humility. He had to admit that he was actually quite impressed; he didn't think the Peasegoods had it in them.
"You're not friends with him, are you?"
"With Avery? Not in a million years."
She chuckled. "You never know. People talk. You're often seen with him."
He shuffled his feet. "He's my dormmate. You know that."
"I never see you around Fudge or Montague or-"
"They're—different."
She pursed her lips. "You know, sometimes I think you're all right. Other times..."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nevermind. Let's just get to it, shall we?"
He got his copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi out of his school bag and flipped through the pages, but his mind wasn't on the project.
Did everyone think he and Avery were friends? And more importantly—did Avery think that? When did people become friends, and was it possible to have friends without knowing? He glanced at Catharina. Were they friends? How much time did he have to spend with someone in order for it to be a friendship? He barely ever saw Avery but both Catharina and Sirius seemed to think differently.
It hurt his head, the complex world of friendship. If only he could be young again, back at home with only Sirius to play with. Things had been easy then, and Sirius naturally his friend. Were they still friends? He had no idea, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer.
He spent the full hour working on the project with Catharina, ate supper, and then disappeared into his dormitory to think things over.
Slytherin Try-Outs were the next day, and Regulus made sure to be on the pitch immediately after classes ended so he wouldn't miss it, even though he hadn't signed up. In all honesty, he had forgotten all about the Try-Outs until Sirius went.
Slytherin needed a new Chaser and a new Beater. He wasn't particularly interested in either position, but perhaps he could be a Beater, as Sirius would be, since he had no real preference when it came to Quidditch. OK, that was a lie, but everyone preferred the Seeker position, so that didn't count.
The Slytherin Quidditch Captain was the Seventh Year Amycus Carrow. It soon became clear that everyone on the team was far older than he was—the Captain's younger sister, who played Keeper, was the Fifth Year Alecto, and the Seeker position was filled by fellow Seventh Year John Dawlish. The Chasers, Astor Bellchant and Bilius Finbok, and Beater (Adonis Mulciber, who he recognised to be the brutish boy he had seen in the library last year) were all Fourth Years.
The people who had gathered for the trials were also much older; they all seemed to be at least Fourth Years as well... it made him feel very small and vulnerable, but he tried his best not to show it. He had to make the team, especially if Sirius had, but also if he hadn't—he couldn't have Sirius join the team before he did. He had to be better, to show everyone he still had it in him to be better.
"All here?" Amycus called out. "We'll be testing in pairs. My sister will call out your name. Beaters first."
There were three people trying out for the Beater position and he waited until all three had played before he raised his hand to ask if maybe, he could try out as well.
"Name?" asked the Captain.
"Regulus Black."
He grinned. "Well, Regulus Black, show us what you got."
He tried his best to control his nerves when he mounted the school broom and took off with the bat in his hands.
Mulciber, the other Beater, took off into the sky as well and the Bludger was released.
From that moment on, he could barely think; his heartbeat echoed in his ears and his mind kept focusing on how he was supposed to hit those all-destroying balls hurling towards him, stay on his broom, and find out where to send the Bludger next.
"Oy, Black, watch it!" Mulciber called out, his bat colliding with a bludger that had been going towards his head.
"Thanks!"
"Just keep your mind in the game!"
He tried. He really tried. But those Bludgers just kept aiming for his head on their own, for only he and Mulciber were up in the sky and Mulciber was far more busy trying to keep the Bludgers away from Regulus' head than firing them towards him.
He was about to give up, see he just couldn't see the bludgers with all the people there, when he spotted something brown coming his way. He let go of the handle of his broom, gripping his bat with both hands, straightening his back. This was his one chance to prove himself, to show that he didn't need Mulciber's help, that he wasn't a failure in Quidditch as well.
Any moment now...
He looked around the pitch. Where to send it? He had to act fast.
There it was, nearly close enough... almost... almost—
He swung his bat, and everything went black.
When he next opened his eyes, he was in the hospital wing, but had no idea what for.
He sat up with a kow groan as the movement blurred his vision and the world was spinning around him. Two weeks into the school year and there he was, back in the hospital wing. It really did seem to become a tradition at this rate.
But this time there was no Narcissa. No Sirius. He was all alone, not even the Peasegoods or Avery were there.
The longer he sat there, the more he remembered of what had happened. He was on the Quidditch pitch, trying out for Beater; he saw the Bludger coming towards him as if it happened again right now, so vividly he remembered the feeling of narrowly missing it with his bat and having the Bludger collide with his face.
His hands went up to feel it, but he felt nothing wrong with his face now—Pomfrey had done a good job at patching him up, as always.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed with another groan and made to stand up so he could get out of here, he may even be in time for supper if he did, when Pomfrey's voice sounded through the wing: "Coming!"
He sighed and lay back down. He waited a few seconds, and surely enough, there she was. She opened his curtains in a rough motion and didn't seem to be in the best mood, but nonetheless managed to force a smile onto her lips. "Ah, you're awake," she said. "Good. You have a visitor."
She opened the double oak doors and let in his visitor—Sirius. Who else could it have been? And yet it surprised him to see his brother, though it surprised him in a good way; perhaps they were friends, after all.
Sirius stopped by his bed and sat down on a chair. "Hi."
"Hello."
Sirius scratched his head. "You all right?"
"Of course I am," he mumbled. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You were out for a full day, forgive me for being concerned."
"Wait, what?!"
Sirius showed him his watch, which clearly told him it was almost seven o'clock on Wednesday, not four-thirty on Tuesday. He fell back on the mattress—why him? Why did this always happen? He'd barely got here!
"So, sleepy-head, what happened?"
"Bludger..." he groaned.
Sirius laughed and sat on the bed with him. "You were trying out for the team then? Didn't get on? What position were you trying out for?"
"Beater-"
He snorted. "Beater, you? You're lucky to still be alive."
He groaned again, but his brother was right—that was the worst part about it. It had been foolish of him to try for that position. He wasn't big enough to be a Beater, especially not compared to all the older boys that were trying out. But even if it had been Second Years... he was rather slim-built. Perfect for a Seeker, not so much for a Beater. Maybe he should just wait until next year, for the Seeker position to open up. Their Seeker was a Seventh Year, after all.
"Did you make it, then?" he asked.
"No," Sirius admitted.
Now it was his time to laugh. "Maybe we're just not cut out for the Quidditch teams."
"Yeah, we should stick to friendly games," Sirius agreed.
"Good idea," was all he said; he didn't say how much he missed playing with him, how much he longed for a simple race, just the two of them. He'd do anything.
But just then, the doors to the hospital wing opened again and in came his brother's friends, ruining the moment, destroying his time alone with his brother as always.
Regulus groaned.
"Ah, Mr. Lupin, you're a little early..." Madam Pomfrey rushed towards them.
"It's almost seven. Sunset..." his voice lowered to a whisper, and he couldn't hear more over the sound of Potter rushing towards his bed, yelling for Sirius.
Potter threw himself at Sirius and the both of them nearly crushed Regulus, who had to push them off him.
"What's with Junior?" Potter asked when he stood upright again.
The question wasn't even directed at him, but at Sirius. And Sirius didn't even look at him anymore—he only had eyes for James.
"My dear brother took a Bludger to the head during Quidditch trials yesterday, didn't you, Reggie? Thought he could be a Beater!"
Potter laughed. Sirius laughed. Their Mudblood friend, who only just arrived at the bed after staying behind with the 4th friend and Pomfrey, even he laughed when he hadn't even heard what was said.
He closed his eyes—he wasn't there to be ridiculed, to be made fun of by those horrible boys, but he was too weak to argue.
He was allowed out of the hospital wing the following morning in time for breakfast, where he met the Peasegoods.
"Are you all right?" asked Catharina as he sat down.
"We heard what happened—why on earth would you try out for Beater?" Arnold added, which earned him a stern look from his sister. "What? It's dangerous."
"Just because you don't like Quidditch doesn't mean it's dangerous; loads of people play it!"
"Loads of people get injured playing it! Including Regulus."
"I'm fine," Regulus interrupted. "Just hungry."
He ate his porridge in silence, ignoring the Peasegoods as well as he could for they continued to argue about whether or not Quidditch was safe and he hadn't the energy nor will to participate in such a conversation.
Their first class of the day was a double hour of History of Magic, so he could start slowly and get some rest as Binns was as boring as he had been last year (something he doubted would ever change).
At lunch, in a desperate attempt to avoid the still squabbling Peasegoods, he sat down at the other end of the table only to end up opposite Avery.
"Fascinating, isn't it?"
He held back a sigh. "What?"
"History of Magic, of course—taught by a ghost of all things, to teach us about goblin rebellions of the past... a right warning for the present, don't you think?"
"What are you on about?"
"Oh, you don't know? Pity."
"Avery..."
"Black..." he mimicked.
Regulus speared his fork through his sausage to release some frustration and took a large bite, trying his best to ignore Avery, who was laughing now in that way only Avery could, the way that was obviously fake and went straight through you, bringing out all your anger and frustration to the surface.
Somehow, he survived the rest of that day, and of Friday, and the weekend, too. He survived the week after with more ease and had caught up on what he missed by Wednesday.
That Friday was the last of the month and at the same time, the first that brought him any post. It happened at breakfast; an owl dropped off a scroll of parchment which was tied with a dark red silk ribbon. He thanked the owl and undid the scroll of its ribbon, straightening the parchment before he started to read:
Dear Regulus,
Has the first month back at Hogwarts been treating you well? Sirius hasn't been teasing you too much, now that I'm gone, has he? I'm sure you're doing well in your classes.
How would you like to spend Christmas with me and Lucius? I'll be honest; I need an excuse to show off the manor, and what better way than by asking my favourite cousin to come over?
Love,
Narcissa Malfoy
Malfoy...
Narcissa Malfoy, not Black. It was strange, reading her name now it was different, although he had to admit Narcissa Malfoy had something to it that Narcissa Black didn't have—it was more elegant, in a way more suitable to who she was, even if she remained his cousin. It made him smile a little as he read her signature over again. Such care had been put into the strokes of her surname, such love.
"What're you smirking at?"
He looked up to see Bulstrode standing on the other side of the table.
"None of your business," he said, quickly covering the letter by holding it against his body.
"Is it a girl?"
"What?"
"Reggie got a love letter," she sang.
"Do not call me that! And it's not a love letter, it's my cousin's. Happy now?"
"Oh, but I don't judge. Are you and her... you know, a thing?"
"Can you please just leave me alone?"
"Oohhh—you are a thing!"
She reached out to grab hold of the letter, but he slapped her hand away and put it into his pocket. "Are you out of your mind?!"
"It's okay, I won't tell your secret..."
"I have no secret, you dimwitted-"
"All right, all right! Merlin, you're in a bad mood."
"Yeah, well, I just want some alone time, if you don't mind."
"I don't mind," she said, but she didn't leave; in fact, she sat down and continued to stare at him.
He slammed down his fork and knife and grabbed his school bag. "You know what, if you won't leave, I will," he said, hurrying out of the Great Hall despite his hunger.
Narcissa had been right, last year. Bull face wasn't worth his time. She was just... really, really weird—but weren't all girls? Aside from Bella and Narcissa, or maybe Catharina, because she was all right, but all other girls were just dumb and stupid and he wished he didn't have to be near them any more with their annoying comments that could rival Avery's.
Narcissa and he, a thing?! She truly was out of her mind, there was no other explanation to it.