The Story of Regulus Black - Years 1-4

CIV. Quit

Wyatt Pearce approached Regulus Black at breakfast the following morning with a grin on his face. "Heya, Black!" He exclaimed, dropping down into the seat across from Regulus.

Regulus looked up at him with less enthusiasm. "Hi," he mumbled, turning back to his breakfast and pushing his food around his plate. It wasn't that Regulus didn't want to speak to Wyatt, it was just that he didn't want to say what he had to say to him. He knew that it would be for the best, but that didn't make the prospect of it any easier.

Wyatt frowned a bit. "Are you alright?"

Regulus nodded his head. "Yeah, fine. Just tired, I s'pose. What's up?" Regulus didn't want to tell Wyatt what he had to say just yet for fear that it would ruin his day.

Wyatt's face broke back out into a wide grin. "Well, I know just what'll cheer you up! Carter and I set up another midnight Quidditch match tonight, and I want you to play Seeker!"

Regulus paused in the pushing around of his eggs and looked at him with an unsure expression. "Wyatt, I don't think-"

"Shush! It'll be fun, and we'll be sure to win with you as our Seeker!" He stood from the table and slapped the top of it with his hands.

"Wyatt, I have to tell you-"

"Oh, by the way," Wyatt cut Regulus off again, seemingly not having noticed that he was speaking at all, "Quidditch practice is starting again on Saturday. 5 AM, to be exact. I know it's not ideal but it's the soonest time that I could book the pitch."

"Wyatt, I really-"

"See you tonight!" And he took off down the table to rejoin his friends.

Regulus sighed and dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter. He would just have to be sure that he told Wyatt later. But, for now, he would let him be excited about the midnight Quidditch match and for Regulus to play.

Double Transfiguration passed by agonizingly slowly. Regulus and Barty still sat next to one another since they weren't allowed to switch seats, and this made for quite an awkward class already. They didn't talk, and Barty had even scooted his chair as far away from Regulus's as he could manage without sitting in the middle of the aisle. Regulus didn't put any great efforts into avoiding Barty and instead stayed exactly where he was, not speaking a single word.

The hostility was practically radiating from their table by the end of class and could be felt by all of the occupants; even Professor McGonagall was sending cautious glances their way every few minutes. This was mostly because as the minutes passed and Regulus became increasingly more bored, he had the urge to pass a note to Barty like they usually did. However, with the realization that he couldn't do this because Barty no longer wanted to be his friend, Regulus became increasingly more irritable. Barty was just irritable in general.

After that class was Potions which, admittedly, passed much more pleasantly. Regulus dropped down into his seat beside Benjamin with a sigh. He immediately crossed his arms on the desk and buried his face into them, letting out a very irritated groan.

"Alright?" Benjamin asked, looking at Regulus with a raised eyebrow.

"I fucking hate Transfiguration," Regulus grumbled, his voice muffled by his arms. By this point, almost everyone - including Regulus himself - had noticed his tendency to pick up swearing when he was irritated or angry. Any other times, however, he didn't like swearing very much. At least, he didn't exactly see a use for it. He assumed that this ideology, like smoking, had come from the years that his mother had spent drilling them into his head.

"I thought you were good at it?" Benjamin asked.

"Just because I'm good at it doesn't mean I like it," Regulus snapped.