Chapter V: Expose Part 1
Autumn - 1922
"Hold still, McKinnon!" Fleamont snapped as he stood atop his roommate's shoulders to peek through the bookshelves at the teacher meeting happening in the Library. They were only a month into the term but already, Fleamont felt a breath of fresh air without Lycoris breathing down his neck. He did have the some slight bitterness over Gareth Longbottom gaining head boy but at least he kept Regulus out of their hair. Now, he was focused on the task at hand... finding out why the teachers required an emergency meeting.
"Fleamont, I don't understand why you can't just use an eavesdropping charm or that extended ear gadget your girlfriend invented," Myles groaned.
"She's not my girlfriend," he snapped which earned a shush from the nearby Ravenclaws. "You've possibly got the boniest shoulders ever, mate."
"Well, excuse me, but I wasn't expecting to be a human ladder as some point in my life."
"Ok, shush," Fleamont muttered and listened.
Myles waited patiently as he heard Fleamont say, "Blimey... No way!"
"What are you babbling about up there?" He called.
"Heard enough Fleamont or shall we just invite you to join us?" Came a voice from behind them.
Fleamont and Myles crashed atop one another as the voice spooked them, some books coming with them along the way as Fleamont attempted to grab a shelf to catch himself. They looked up at Professor Dumbledore, giving them a smug grin.
"Is it true sir?" We're going to compete with other schools?"
"Like the Triwizard cup?" Myles added.
"Not quite, Myles. We've been invited by Durmstrang institute to compete in a exposition of magic and mind. Their students tend to be more physically gifted, making them a wonderful school for Quidditch Professional or Triwizard Champions, but they want their students to excel in other matters as well. A little friendly competition is just the thing to get them there. Also unlike the Triwizard cup, there is no one-victor and no age restrictions.
"So... I could go, sir?" Fleamont asked.
"You'd need permission from your parents to travel, and your grades need to be in good standing," he smirked with a twinkle in his eye, "But I'll put a good word in with the head of Gryffindor House."
"Thank you sir! I'll write to my folks right now."
"This is brilliant!" Myles said as he ran off with Fleamont. "Wait until I write, Delaney. He's going to be so bloody jealous he's graduated. We'll be competing with an elite school while he sits at home playing husband."
"Blimey," Fleamont muttered. "I can't believe he's getting married at his age."
"His family has had arranged marriages for ages. Most family's like ours do. You and I are some of the lucky ones. Then I can be a bachelor as long as I like and you can pick the bride you want. Not that we don't know who you're going to choose."
"Don't start that again," Fleamont sighed.
"Did you and Euphemia even write this summer?"
"Of course we didn't! Not after you lot teased me about how I felt last term. It was bloody embarrassing. Well, I won't let myself go through that humiliation again. I'm going to be someone this year. No girls. No more Lycoris. Nothing standing in my way!"
"Dad said no!" Fleamont yelled into the recently arrived letter from his mother as if it owed him more of an explanation. He then read, "Fleamont, your father and I are going to visit your uncle in the States and do not want you out of school while we are away. You'll have to wait for the next opportunity. Give my love to Myles. Love mother." He scrunched up the note and tossed it onto the table.
"Well, at least I got a shoutout," Myles said as he ate his lunch. "Why do they have to go to the states?"
"Because of all the fuss about Dad being dismissed from work," he sighed. "It's putting a lot of stress on Mum."
"That's not what I heard," Regulus Black hissed from behind him as he passed Gryffindor table, but both Fleamont and Myles jumped.
"Damn, Black. You're like the pop up book from hell. Go back to your own table," Myles continued to eat.
"What are you talking about?" Fleamont asked.
"Don't encourage him, Fleamont," Myles sighed.
Regulus just smirked and leaned forward. "I heard your childhood home and all your belongings have to be sold at auction because your parents are strapped for cash. Doesn't matter though. Nobody wants a muggle-lover's furniture."
"None of that is true! My house is just fine, thank you! They're going to the states to visit family!"
"Admit it, Potter. Your father opened his big mouth and got canned. Your family won't amount to a thing now."
"Speak for yourself, Black," Myles spoke up defending his friend. "You're more of a charity case than the lot of us, with nothing but a name to showboat around."
"Well I'm going to make a name for myself at the exposition. Meanwhile you'll be here playing with your potions and fungi," he snapped his fingers feigning an idea, "Oh I know. Why don't you invent a potion and sell it? Then you can support mummy and daddy."
Fleamont sprung from his chair. "Leave my parents alone, Black! I'm going to that competition and I'll show you who is the best wizard in this school.
"We'll see," Regulus muttered but felt a firm hand grasp his shoulder. It was Gareth Longbottom, towering over him.
"Leave him alone, Reg," Gareth Muttered.
"Reg?" Myles whispered to Fleamont but Regulus heard it and pulled away from Gareth.
"You're not my head boy, Longbottom."
"Maybe not," he said, "But that doesn't make me less right. Leave them alone."
"So Longbottom," Myles spoke up in an attempt to change the subject and lighten the mood. "Going to compete at the expo?"
"Of course I am," he grinned. "I'd have to pass on the title of Head Boy and Quidditch captain, but I can't pass up a chance like this."
Regulus looked almost said. "You're... sure?"
"Of course I'm sure. My family is all for it. They say it's a chance for me to become an auror."
"But... you can't," Regulus said softly.
Everyone grew uncomfortable at the sudden change in his tone and he muttered. "Can I speak to you? Privately?"
Gareth looked the most uneasy of the lot of them and nodded, "Yea. I'll come find you in a bit. I've got to talk to someone else first."
Regulus gave a shrug then marched off, a look of dread in his eyes.
"Need to talk to us?" Fleamont asked.
"Euphemia, actually," Gareth said and Myles had to burry his smirk in his lunch to hide it from Fleamont.
"Why?" Fleamont asked.
"I was going to tell her about the contest. I'd like her... input."
"Why do you care about her opinion on whether or not you go?" Fleamont clapped.
"Because, I do. Ok?" Gareth replied and just sighed. "Forget it. She must be in common room. I'll see you lads later."
Gareth turned and marched up the hall as Fleamont watched him go. He felt an anxious flutter rise in his chest and heard his roommate mutter, "Just an idea, Potter, but maybe you should go find Euphemia before Gareth does."
"Why? Euphie and I are just friends."
"And I think Longbottom wants to be more than friends with her. What would you have to say about that?"
"Nothing," Fleamont blushed and stood up. "I'd say nothing. If she likes him then she should have him. I've got an exposition to prepare for."
Myles looked confused, "But your mother said-"
"I'll find a way," he huffed.
"Fleamont, you've not even had a bite of your lunch."
"I'm not hungry," he grumbled, gathered his books and stormed out of the great hall.
Word had gotten around to Euphemia that Gareth was looking for her and she made a point to find him. If he was a half-decent Head Boy that she thought him to be, then he'd be checking the classrooms to ensure students weren't using the empty ones to snog in during lunch hour. She finished up her homework, having procrastinated it in order to focus more on some of her late-night hobbies of drawing fashion sketches or dreaming up inventions. She'd made sure to grab some of the sketches and tucked them into her books to show them to whoever could provide feedback.
As she made her way up the halls, she heard Gareth's voice but it was accompanied by another's. Peering around the stone corner, she spotted him speaking with Regulus Black.
"I won't compete against you," Regulus muttered.
"Why not?"
"Because I want you to win."
"Well I appreciate that, Regulus, but don't think so highly of yourself. You can still compete and I can best you fair and square. Let's not forget, I'm the one who tutors you," Gareth said.
"That's not what I mean. I read the competition rules. These charms will showboat the best skill. If I want to really prove myself then I'll have to face you in duels... intense duels. You could get hurt or at the very least it could ruin you if you're not good enough. Schools like this recruits boys like us for athletics and ministry positions. You want to be an Auror. This is your shot."
"It's yours too, Reg," Gareth looked confused. "I don't understand why you're pressing this. I know you're skilled at charms, but I can best you any day." He chuckled.
"No you can't! I let you win!"
"What?" Gareth looked confused.
"When we spar together or practice charms I let you win."
"Mate," Gareth said and drew his wand. "Just the other day I had you knocked back with a simple flick of my..." he started aiming for Regulus who quickly took the boys wrist, twisted it and spun backwards. He ducked under Gareth arm as his arm bent back and suddenly he was pinned to his knees with Regulus standing over his back with his own wand pressed into his neck. Gareth just panted as the world stopped spinning.
"Did you really think I'd survive long in my household with my brothers and never learn to defend myself?" He released Gareth and the young man stood quickly, hiding the embarrassment on his lips and rubbing his shoulder. Regulus tossed his wand back to him and paced.
"I don't understand. If you're better than me at dueling then why fake it?"
"Because... I didn't want to stop spending time with you. I like having you as my tutor, Gareth?"
"So you just lie to me?" he scowled.
"It wasn't all a lie," Regulus whirled around. "I do struggle with word-blindness or whatever the name of it is that muggle invented. I couldn't tell one number from the next. But you helped me with my ruins and my spelling and mathematics, Gareth. All that is part of charms."
"Charms come from the mind and soul, Regulus. Defensive charms come from reflex, which is clearly something you don't struggle with," Gareth was growing uneasy now. "Why wouldn't you tell me?"
"Because I thought you'd stop being my friend. I don't want that, Gareth. I don't want to to lose you."
Gareth huffed out a sigh and Regulus got closer.
"I don't get you, Regulus. You treat other kids like shit even though your brother isn't around to command you anymore. Your grandfather is on the verge of retirement so you don't need to prove yourself to him but you still walk around with your nose in the air. But when it's just the two of us studying in secret, when it' just you and me, I see the real side of you. You're a good person, Regulus. I don't know why you hide that from others."
"Because I don't care about others seeing it." He stepped in front of Gareth. "I only care about you seeing it?"
"Why? Why am I so important?"
Euphemia watched as something took over the eyes of Regulus Black. He had a sudden look of desperation. It was as if a veil had vanished and he was standing there in his true form. He reached up and grabbed Gareth by the back of his neck and gently pulled him forward whispering, "Because you are. You're everything... I'll show you." Euphemia's eyes widened and she stifled a gasp as Regulus attempted to kiss Gareth Longbottom. The poor lad had shut his eyes so he didn't see look of shock and contempt on his friend's face as Longbottom used his strong hands to push Regulus away.
"Get the hell off of me!"
Regulus stumbled back and nearly sent a coat of arms crashing down. "Gareth I..."
"Just stay away from me!" He shouted and raced up the hall. Regulus was left alone. He cupped his hand over his lips to stop the sounds of heartbreak from escaping, but he did hear a shuffling from around the corner. He looked up just in time to see Euphemia duck behind the corner. She stood still as she could in her hiding place and panted but it did her no good. In a few swift steps he was upon her, ripping her out into the light by her arm.
"What did you see!" He barked at her.
"Nothing!"
"You're lying!"
"Black, you're hurting me!" she scowled but it only earned her a shake from Regulus who dragged her into the nearest empty classroom. "Stop!" she screamed. "Help me! Someone!"
"Quiet, you nosey little peasant!" He flung her inside to give him the chance to close and block the door. Euphemia tumbled against desk. She grabbed and ink well and, without missing a beat, flung it across the room at him only for him to catch it in one hand. A bit of the ink splashed onto his sleeve before he flung it to the ground and it crashed.
Euphemia huffed. "Well, Gareth was right. You do have good reflexes."
"So you did hear," he sighed and ran the ink covered hand through his hair but the color just blended with his own locks.
"I won't tell anyone, Black. I swear I won't," she said once her temper had cooled slightly.
"Until I'm no longer here and you have the chance to tell the whole school!" He snapped at her.
"I won't tell because I don't think it matters. If you care about him that's your business! You shouldn't be shamed for it, even if you are an asshole who deserves to be put in his place."
He just glared at her uncertain then shook his head. "No, I can't trust that." He approached her and drew his wand.
Euphemia stumbled backwards. "Just because you haven't been able to trust people in the past doesn't make me less trustworthy," she said frantically as Regulus came upon her.
"Be quiet," he gave her a shove and she stumbled backward onto the floor.
"Black, I won't tell anyone I swear! If not for your sake then for Gareth's! You know I wouldn't hurt him like that."
"Don't say his name," he sneered as he straddled her on the floor and kept his wand aimed at her face.
"Please... Regulus please don't!"
"Not so brave now, are you," he grumbled but the panic in her eyes struck his core. He was about to lower his wand when she began to scream again.
"Someone help me, please!"
Her cries were muted by his free hand covering her mouth as she struggled against him. Tears of panic filled her eyes but she noticed tears of desperation welling in Regulus' as he thought of his lot in life. "Quiet! It's just a memory charm. I'm good at them. I won't hurt you and you won't remember any of this."
But Euphemia didn't trust him. She clawed at his hand and pounded at his chest. Regulus was too focused on his aim to hear the door behind him unlock with a charm and open.
Before he knew it, the Black boy was ripped from atop Euphemia and a fist went soaring into his face. He crashed against the desks and thought he recognized the strength. When he caught his balance he gasped out, "Gareth. It's not what you think. I was just-" But when he looked back at his attacker, it wasn't Gareth Longbottom. It was Fleamont Potter.
"Get the hell away from her!" Fleamont scowled.
"She's fine!" Regulus sneered at him and rubbed his jaw. "Don't be such a baby."
Fleamont was tempted to punch him again but chose to attend to Euphemia first. He helped the trembling girl from the floor and wiped a tear from her cheek. She'd always been so strong headed and brave, and now she clutched his hand and was barely able to mutter thanks to him for her rescue. It caused a fire to well up inside Fleamont as he turned to face Regulus. "If you ever touch her again..."
"He won't," Euphemia whispered. "I'm not his type."
"Why you little," Regulus took a step forward but Fleamont stepped between them. He glared up at Regulus and muttered, "You will not come near her again. You will not so much as look at her. Do you understand me, Black?"
Regulus started to chuckle at Fleamont's show of dominance but he caught sight of Euphemia's threatening gaze. He wanted to believe her when she said she wouldn't expose him for Gareth's sake. But here was someone else she cared for, and Regulus could see her using her new information on him as a bartering tool for Fleamont's own safety. He didn't press his luck. He simply brushed himself off and muttered, "Doesn't matter. I'll be out of this place soon enough once I show my talents at the exposition."
"Send us a postcard, won't you?" Euphemia muttered over Fleamont's shoulder. Regulus scowled at her and stormed out.
"That bastard."
"I'm ok, Fleamont."
"He gets away with everything. I shouldn't even bother telling Headmaster Black about it. Regulus would just twist it and make it seem like your fault."
"Maybe," she sighed. She grinned slightly at the red faced potter and took his hand. "But I'm ok for now."
"Euphie, you're sure? We could take you to the hospital wing?"
"No, I'm sure. Thanks to you."
"I'll make this right," he whispered to her.
"I know Fleamont," she smiled at him.
"I'll fix it," he insisted.
"Ok then," she beamed.
"I'll beat him," he said determined.
"What?" she blinked.
"Regulus. I'll beat him in the competition. I'll find a way into that contest even if I have to sneak in and I'll beat him at his own game. I'll humiliate him. Then he'll be sorry."
Euphemia rolled her eyes, let go of his hand and passed him. "Oh, you idiot..."
Fleamont seemed confused. "Euphie?" He chased her down as she stormed out. "Euphemia, what's wrong?"
"What's wrong?! You just pull Regulus Black from me, plucked me off the floor, I owe everything to you and you chose this moment to talk about a stupid charms competition?"
"Well... I just thought..."
"For the love of Merlin, potter. Do you like me or not?"
Fleamont blinked.
"I know you must because I thought at the end of last year you and I were going to... well there was a moment there I thought you wanted to..." she couldn't find the words, but when Fleamont refused to help her and instead stood there like a dunce, she just grumbled. "My mistake..."
"Where are you going?" Fleamont said as she marched away.
"To find Gareth. He needed to meet with me earlier."
"You can't!" He called and she turned around.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't?"
Fleamont couldn't think of one other than that he didn't want Gareth to have her. Euphie was his! She was his best friend and Gareth was going to pour his heart out to her and Fleamont didn't know if Euphemia would feel the same or not. He just stood there frozen like a chump, unsure what to say. Euphemia just shook her head, turned and left him.
... To be continued...