𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐍 | Regulus Black x Reader

VI. Harry's Scouts

You didn't head to the dining hall for dinner that night. After sitting on your windowsill in a state of disarray until darkness blanketed over the castle grounds, you realized that Regulus didn't intend on returning anytime soon.

If ever . But you brushed that thought aside as soon as it surfaced; you didn't want to mull over the possibility until you were absolutely certain, and you weren't going to be unless Regulus told you to your face.

Curfew would sweep into the night any moment now, so you made a decision.

Startling up from your stupor, you quickly grab Regulus' portrait frame and your wand, pacing out of your dorm and the common room. Many sent you furtive glances, intrigued by your determination, while others full-body turned as if tempted to warn you against toeing the line for curfew.

However, it seemed that their words were caught in their throats after catching a glimpse of the blood-stained bandage around your hand. It was clear that you were aware of the consequences of breaking the rules, and you just hoped that you wouldn't run into Umbridge on your walk.

You wondered what would happen if she caught you. Surely, she wouldn't use the quill on you again, but you couldn't rule out the wandering thought that she might just test out a potion by pouring it down your throat.

You truly couldn't wait for her to run back to her post at the Ministry.

Walking along the cold castle corridors, you cast a silent lumos and bring up the bulb of light to scan the collection of portraits around you. Many of the portraits hissed at the brightness, whispering furiously to usher you away. You didn't pay any mind to their protests, eyes darting around frantically to try and find Regulus.

You knew that portraits could wander into other portraits located in the same building, so that narrowed down his whereabouts. Unfortunately, Hogwarts happened to be a proprietor of hundreds of valuable portraits–so Regulus could be anywhere.

Growing restless as hot frustration pervades your chest, your shoulders sag as you stop in defeat. Standing in the middle of the corridor, your wand resting by your side, you turn your head up to the ceiling. It felt like a million thoughts were whirring in the back of your brain, yet every single one evaded your mental grasp.

It was overwhelming. There were too many conflicting thoughts and emotions coursing through you. Unconsciously patting the vacant frame in your pocket, you begin to slowly walk forward into the darkness, no real destination or plan in mind.

It was likely past curfew now, and you imagined that you'd already be halfway down to the shrieking shack if you had Harry's invisibility cloak on you. You didn't want to stay in your dorm, every inch of your side of the room was infused with the memory of Regulus.

You wanted to be somewhere where you could forget. Somewhere that took your mind off of Voldemort's antics. Somewhere where you could stop stewing over the absurdity of your feelings and attachment to Regulus–a portrait.

Merlin, you weren't even sure how much of him was human. What did he retain? Was he real? Yes. Maybe. You didn't know. But it was giving you a headache.

Maybe him leaving was good. You needed to sort out your feelings and confusion.

Suddenly, you hear two pairs of footsteps echo around the walls. Loud clicking and uneven stomps. You had grown accustomed to hearing those two walks. Umbridge and Filch . Scrambling further down the hall, you quickly disperse your lumos as you reach a turn in the corridor.

As you throw yourself against the stone wall, you peer from around the corner to see a faint light along with two figures. They stop just yards away from your position in the darkness, and you hear Umbridge begin to order Filch around, "These as well. They must go at once!"