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—THE NEXT FEW MONTHS PASSED BY, AND IT WAS FINALLY YULE BREAK. Rigel rolled his eyes when he was apparated back home with Tom. The two haven't talked in a few weeks, mostly because they were both busy with different things.
"How have you been?" Tom asked as they walked into the manor.
"Don't try to make conversation with me when it's clear that I hate you."
Tom merely laughed, "Atleast you've gotten used to having me around."
"What other choice do I have? You literally live with us."
Tom nodded understandingly. "True."
••
"So, how's school been?" Remus asked as he and his son were sitting in the library.
"Fine." Rigel answered, rubbing his eyes.
"You seem tired. Maybe you should go take a nap."
"I'm sure it's nothing."
Remus frowned and sat next to him, checking his son's forehead, immediately looking alarmed as his son coughed. "Or you've got a cold."
"No, I don't."
The werewolf raised an eyebrow when his son started sneezing a few times, "Want to say that again?"
"Fine, you're right." Rigel admitted, "Happy?"
"Not until you get to bed."
••
"Master.. Sirius," Kreacher spat out the name as if it was poison, something which amused Rigel to no end, "said to give master Rigel food."
Rigel nodded, going back to the book in his hands, ignoring the food that was now on his bedside table. He was in his room, laying on his bed.
His room was enormous. The wall were painted pitch black. His bed was dark green, and the couches, (which were by the corner, next to a few bookshelves) were also dark green.
He had a walk-in closet, and a bathroom as well. His closet was the only thing that was not either black or dark green.. it was gray. Simple gray.
His bathroom was the size of a normal room, which was also all black.
There was one huge window by the side of the couches and bookshelves, but the curtains were always closed, because Rigel didn't like too much light.
Someone knocking on the door caught his attention, "Come in." Rigel said, looking up from his book.
Tom walked in, eyebrows rising at the dark room. "I'm a dark lord, yet your room is much darker than mine." He teased, making Rigel's lips quirk upwards for a second but it was gone as soon as it came.
"What do you want?"
"I wanted to ask how you're feeling."
"I'm feeling great." Rigel answered monotonously, "Now that you know my answer, get out."
"Then I suppose you won't be needing this?" Tom asked, pulling out a potion.
"..No." Rigel glared, not wanting to admit he did actually need it. The potion was solely for muggle sicknesses, most effective on colds.
Tom smirked, knowing his actual answer. "Just take it. I made it for you—"
"You made it? Oh, now I really don't want it."
The 15-year old sighed, glaring at the 12-year old. "Just take the damn potion and let me do something nice for once."
"How do I know that it's not poisoned?"
Tom raised his eyebrows and gave him a look. "Why would you think that it's poisoned?"
"You're lord Voldemort." Rigel answered as if it was obvious.
The older boy rolled his eyes and conjured a plant, pouring a little bit of the potion in it. "There. It didn't die, which means that it's not poisoned."
Rigel skeptically looked at the plant and slowly took the potion, "..You can get out now. You've done your 'nice' deed."
"Does it kill you to say 'thanks'?" Tom mocked, raising his hands in fake surrender when Rigel glared at him.
