Regulus Black incorrect quotes and one shots (including other characters)

Dumbledore's Decline

A sharp wrap at the door interrupted the quiet world of Dumbledore's office. The sleeping portraits jerked their heads up violently, causing Armando Dippit to grumbling complain of a neck cramp, and Dumbledore himself to put down his quill.
"Come in." The headmaster intoned with his usual air of absolute calm. The door swung open and the fact that it revealed a student caused a terrible clammer. The portraits recovered their old habits as former headmasters and mistresses and began a torrent of shouts, all different variants on the very same subject.
"A student of bed!"
"This is quite preposterous!"
"Why, can't odorous man Filch do his job!"
Dumbledore removed his glasses, carefully folded them up and put them aside, letting the portraits have their say before raising his hand to quiet them. There was one, however, who did not stop, Phineas Negillus Black. A particularly finicky man, who's relation to the young man in the doorway only gave him a heightened sense of superiority.
"Regulus Acturus Black, what on earth are you doing out of bed so late! Best give me an explanation, young man or your mother will know!"
Dumbledore frowned up at the portrait before continuing in that same calm voice. "She most certainly will not. Mr Black is currently attending my school and any misdemeanors shall be punished or not according to my judgement or the judgment of my staff, Phineas."
The portrait scowled at Dumbledore and continued scowling as he gestured Regulus in, "Come on in then, boy." If the old wizard noticed the portrait's petty power play he did not show it and simply studied his student carefully behind the desk.
Dumbledore had spent a great deal of time observing this particular student along with many others like James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Lily Evans, Marlene McKinnon and Mary McDonald. The students who had great potential to change the course of the war.
And Regulus looked excited, his normal impassivity gone from his face as an expression of jubilance much more befitting of his age took its place. His grey eyes were glinting, his dark hair uncharacteristically messy, a Slytherin jumper hastily thrown on over pyjamas. He had clearly been just about to head to bed, if not already in it.
The boy had an idea, and this was exactly the purpose for which Dumbledore had been watching him so closely.
Regulus nodded his head jerkily to the portrait. "Good evening, Grandfather." The boy had always had the strangest taste in companions. This fondness had extended to his snide but, he was sure, ultimately well-meaning great, great, great grandfather. Phineas huffed but he did have an ever-so slight smile on his lips.
Albus stood slowly and gestured to the chair opposite him, "Now that you have been appropriately polite to your relatives, I do hope you will accept a seat?"
Regulus smiled nervously and moved to take his seat with grace "Of course, Headmaster." Once he had sat down the old man looked at him expectantly. Regulus reached for a purse-sized bag from his breast-pocket and with a dramatic and slightly over-excited gesture and expanded it to the size of a school trunk. The headmaster looked a little shocked at the enormity of the charm but decided it would be best to ask questions on it later. The young boy began laying out a variety of old books on magic theory of dark arts, individual papers by wizard scientists, a motley collection of newspaper articles, all concerning the content of 'Defense against the Dark Arts' classes over the decades (what was considered appropriate to teach and what wasn't) and some rather frayed notebooks.
By this point most of Dumbledore's desk was covered in Regulus' acquisitions, which the man himself looked at over the rim of his half-moon spectacles. The dark haired boy seemed a tad shy at Dumbledore's bemused expression, "You're probably wondering what all this is....Well! I did some research and I think I found something....something that ought to stop You-Know-Who and I thought 'I'm not exactly the most qualified to pursue this, so I better find someone who is'-" Regulus paused for breath and he spoke his next words with unerring surety. "-and who more qualified to deal with You-Know-Who than you, Professor?"
There was a long pause in which Dumbledore gathered up Regulus' materials and put steepled hands against his lips in a thoughtful gesture. He watched Regulus until the boy felt like he was looking into his soul. Albus noted that interestingly for someone in his current home environment he didn't look away. He seemed to feel more emboldened and confident from the confrontation, as if it had given him back the vigor to prove he had a right to be here.
Very interesting indeed.
This boy would make an excellent fighter in the war, and not for the side his parents intended, if the headmaster could help it. Yes, this was going quite well, best not to discourage him.
"You know, Regulus." They'd been silent for so long Regulus jumped and the Headmaster smiled. "You would have made a great Gryffindor." This had rather the opposite effect than he had intended for the Slytherin looked distinctly angered.
"I am not my brother. The mere mention that I might have been worthy enough for Gryffindor isn't the sky-high praise you think it is."
Dumbledore considered him for a moment, thinking about this new piece of information. "You don't want to be like Sirius." He spoke the words carefully as if considering each syllable.
Regulus rolled his eyes, crossing his arms moodily across his chest. "No, I suppose that comes as a surprise - sir."
The silvery-haired man looked at his student over his half-moon spectacles and chuckled softly. "Not really, I have a younger brother, you know, but what does surprise me is that you are acting like him regardless of that fact."
The boy leaned back and crossed his arms tightly across his chest, expression icy. He didn't say a word, just stared at Dumbledore. That was one of the biggest differences between the brothers he'd noticed. When Sirius got angry he screamed, swore, stamped his feet. Regulus got cold. The kind of cold that hurts to touch.
A small scoff exited the boys' lips and his face was a mixture of impressed and disbelieving. He raised his eyebrow, scanning Dumbledore from top to bottom with what seemed like new eyes. "You're avoiding the information I've brought you, Professor."
The portraits of headmasters around the office all shouted cries of insubordination, all accept for Phineas Negillus Black. Just like his great grandson he had been raised in and amongst politicians; people who knew how to steer a conversation in any way they pleased. Both Blacks knew what the old man was doing but neither knew why and they also had an unhealthily strong curiosity.
Dumbledore leaned forward and he inhaled deeply, a spark of genuine angry frustration glinting in his eyes, "Mr Black - both of you - I'm afraid you don't understand the reality of our situation. We are in the middle of a war, where the opposite side is dangerous, unreliable - powerful." He shot a meaningful look at Regulus, "You know all this, Mr Black, better than most, you experienced it." The boy cringed back at this like he'd just been hit, or cursed and the old man knew he would stay quiet for the rest of his speech.
"We need to not only win this war but to make sure they never rise up again. This means that we need to plan every action, every movement, meticulously. Which means waiting out this war a little for the right opportunity to come."
Regulus' silence broke at this. He stood up with enough violence to shove the chair back, his stone grey eyes flashing with fury. "Waiting out the war? Do you know how many people have died in this war for your 'right opportunities'!"
A riot of noise rose from the collection of portraits. Some were asking questions, on Regulus' side, and others affronted that a student would have the arrogance to question the Headmaster, on Dumbledore's.
Regulus just stood there, shaking his head slightly like he'd realized something awful. He duplicated the notes and slammed them down hard on the desk, "This is in case you start valuing human lives over opportunities." He pushed open the door, the slam of it closing echoing through the office. The Headmaster sat serenely at his desk, as if nothing had happened. He looked down at the papers and traced the words on the page, murmuring too low for the portraits to hear, "Interesting."