The Journal of Regulus Arcturus Black

Chapter 29. Snatched on Christmas

Dear Regulus,

A lot has happened since the last I wrote to you. Umbridge is no longer the High inquisitor or even a member of Hogwarts faculty. She's gone and rumours are spiralling over different ways that she could have left. I was not aware that she'd gone until after I came back from my wallowing. As usual.

I read the rest of your journal. Kreacher and I have both finished it, together.

He gave me the journal and the Locket. I had it destroyed so you can finally rest knowing that your last wishes were met. I don't know if you'd care too much, because you've never met me. You'll never meet me and you'll never read these letters. I don't know why I write them. I think it's easier to pretend you're someone that I'll eventually meet one day.

It's pathetic, isn't it? Having a fifteen year-old write letters to his dead godfather because he's alone and the small journal entries he's come to find himself familiar with, actually makes him happy? I should never have read your journal. I know that Kreacher gave me permission but it wasn't good in the long run. I feel like I need to know you, I need to understand why you did things the way you did.

That journal was hardly enough to get to know a person. The only other Black who knew you well enough is Sirius. Did I tell you that I saved him? He was battling Aunt Bellatrix a couple days ago in the Department of Mysteries. Whilst Potter and his noble lot went to battle, I was too busy in the Chamber of Secrets destroying the Locket.

Basilisk's venom. That was one of your theories except, getting that sort of rare ingredient was hard. Well you were right and we have quite the supply in the underground workings of the castle. I understand what you had to go through in order to get your hands on His Locket but I feel like there could have been a way. Some sort of way to have made sure you survived.

I wish I could meet you Regulus. I wish you got to know me, got to watch me grow up. Be the godfather that you deserved to be, but also, help me. I could really use some help Regulus.

Your godson,

Draco Black.

***

Draco drank the Pepper-up potion that Madam Pomfrey handed him and sat against the edge of one of the Hospital Wing's cot. He looked over one of the younger year students, who had a hard time keeping their mouth quiet during a detention session. Gryffindor girl, in her second year. She had taken the brunt of a cruciatus curse and was moaning on her hospital bed, face screwed up in pain.

"If you hadn't shut up, you wouldn't have got in this mess," sang Tommy, sitting up with a wince. He was in the bed right beside hers and rolled his eyes playfully when she told him to piss off.

"He's right, you know," Draco said. "You'll live," he muttered, patting her leg and getting up. The Pepper-up potion was not a permanent solution to his restlessness, but there were harder matters to deal with. Draco would have spent a night in the Hospital Wing than he would outside in the main part of the castle, but every bed was being occupied.

"Where is he?!" cried a familiar voice.

Draco felt a grin tug at his lips, watching Tommy wince again. "Someone's in trouble," Draco teased, lifting his hand and pointing to the boy who scowled and tried to hide behind a pillow.

"One week," cried Talon. "You couldn't last a week?"

"In his defence," Maya piped up—

"Maya, sweetie, I am two seconds away from decking the boy, please give me a moment," Talon said sweetly.