THE SCARS ON MY BODY ● JEGULUS |MARAUDERS|

✹SEVENTY-FOUR✹

MY IRL FRIEND FOUND THIS FANFIC...MERLIN, SAVE ME...EVERYONE SAY HELLO TO SOPHIE, I GUESS🙄

I WAS CASUALLY RESEARCHING - AS A DEDICATED CANON FANFIC WRITER DOES ;) - AND I REALISED THAT SYBILL BECAME A PROFESSOR IN 1981. IF SHE'S 11/12 AT THIS POINT, THEN BY 1981 SHE WILL ONLY BE 15/16. WHAT SHOULD I DO? REWRITE THE CHAPTERS WITH HER IN OR...WHAT? HELP, PLEASE!

LOVE Y'ALL (EXCEPT YOU, SOPHIE) <333

(HELLO, IT'S 12/01/22 AND I JUST WANTED TO SAY, I'VE EDITED EVERYTHING TO DO WITH SYBILL AND SHE IS NOW IN YEAR 5 xx)

_____________________

✹ All these years he's always said

about how untrustworthy his family is.

I suppose, he was right ✹

_____________________

Regulus had read about grief in books, he'd experienced brief grieving when Erin had passed, yet he had never lost two people he loved deeply at the same time. Nor did he ever believe that he would have to grieve whilst sitting at a long table with Deatheaters and murders. Uncle Alphard had been burnt off of the family tree earlier that morning, apparently, he had left most of his fortune to Sirius in his will. He hadn't left any for Regulus. Regulus and Alphard had never been as close as Sirius and Alphard, though, he had hoped that his own Uncle might have thought about him in his last moments...clearly, that was very unlikely.

Deatheater meetings often occurred in a different place each time, this time it was held within the walls of the Greengrass Manor. Waldorf Greengrass, who had graduated from Hogwarts a few months before, sat on the opposite side of the table to Regulus, his hands folded together in front of him and a blank expression on his face as he listened intently to the Dark Lord's words.

Regulus tried to listen, yet he refused to look at the man. The thing, even. To call You-Know-Who a man was too much of a compliment. Even being around him was bone-chilling. But, what surprised Regulus the most, was that if you didn't know who he was, Lord Voldermort could walk through the streets of London without anyone giving him a second glance. He looked extremely normal. The way that Bellatrix looked at him was disgusting, actually. It all became clear to Regulus the reason as to why she had spoken so highly of him. She liked him. Regulus could have thrown up at the thought.

On either side of him sat Crouch and Humphrey, Humph on his left and Crouch on his right. It seemed that the younger you were, the further away on the table that you sat from Voldermort. Regulus didn't mind though, the further away the better.

Humphrey's leg bounced up and down beneath the table. Any other person would have expected that it was due to fear, yet Regulus was fully aware that his body was begging to smoke. It happened after every meeting, the instant they arrived back at the Black's house, he'd be outside smoking a cigarette. Regulus hated it. He smoked on occasion, not as much anymore, but he used to. But his best friend smoking? No.

"I've decided that it's about time we begin rounding up the half-breeds." Regulus stiffened at the words. Half-breed. It was such a rude name, yet, he remembered, Voldermort didn't care whether or not he was rude. It was then that he began to worry. Remus was a werewolf. Voldermort wouldn't know that, right? He sure hoped not.

His leg bounced up and down beneath the table. One bounce. Another bounce. More bouncing. Unlike Humphrey, this was fear. He was scared and he was prepared to admit that to himself. Any sane person would be scared in that situation. Sane. The idea that he was scared put cruel thoughts in the back of his head to peace. If he was scared, then evidently he was still somewhat sane.