sanguine | r. black

Two

By the time September 1st rolled around, Regulus was bursting at the seams to get back to Hogwarts. He had spent the entire summer going stir-crazy stuck up in his bedroom with nobody but Kreacher to talk to. Avery had gone with Mulciber's family to the Canary Islands for the Quidditch world cup. Rosier had been ignoring his letters—probably too caught up in his brother's antics to take a moment for himself—and even his younger cousin, Narcissa, was more obsessed with her popular friends and ever-blooming crush to come around Grimmauld Place anymore. At the very least, Regulus knew he would be able to look forward to the familiar grind of churning out assignments and receiving praise from professors, even if the rest of the world had gone to shit.

It was going to shit, at that. Between rising muggle killings and magical weather phenomena attributed to natural disasters, things were growing more tense by the week. His own parents were more on edge than he'd ever seen them. His father's friend, Lawrence Mulciber, had been taken in by aurors for questioning. Fortunately, Orion Black had enough sway with ministry officials that he was able to grease enough palms to keep his associates out of trouble. Regulus didn't think the man had done what he was accused of, but then even if he had he was sure the muggles had deserved it. They were encroaching ever closer on wizard safe spaces. His mother had even gone so far as to forbid him from even strolling around the garden, in case a rogue muggle had the bad sense to snatch him. Unfortunately, there wasn't much fresh air in their dusty old townhouse. Even the smoke of the old scarlet steam engine was a somewhat refreshing change of pace.

Platform 9 ¾ was the same as he'd always remembered it, except it seemed smaller now. The pillars that once used to stretch to the sky seemed to loom over him. He didn't know whether the atmosphere had changed, or if he had. It was disconcerting, but he brushed it aside.

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you to keep your composure. You've never had any trouble with it, my precious little prefect." Walburga Black pinned her son's badge to the front of his green and silver robes, even though he'd begged her to just let him do it himself. "Now, you got top marks in your classes last year, so I expect you to maintain that at your OWL level. We're expecting at least six Os."

"Maintain it?" Her husband's voice was stern, "You can do better, and you had better or else you'll find the locks changed when you're home. We expect you to pick up another class this term. Spend less hours on the quidditch pitch and buckle down on your studies. You know the rules. Nothing short of academic excellence allowed under my roof."

Regulus opened his mouth to assure his father that he would indeed perform to their high expectations, as he always had, but his mother spoke over him.

"Now Orion, he'll do just fine," his mother said. She brushed his swooping black bangs from his forehead and kissed him there.

"Walburga, you're smothering him," Orion said, but it was evident in his tone that he was only half paying attention. Regulus was glad he had at least said something, but he knew it wouldn't dissuade his mother, who was already using magic to unzip the various compartments of his trunk to check he had all his required necessities. She didn't bother resealing them, so he had to manage that himself without the aid of his wand. He was itching to get back to school and cast some spells.