𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐍 | Regulus Black x Reader

IX. Oddities and Ruminations

You could barely keep your head screwed on straight. As you sat in front of your parchment, quill motionlessly clasped in your frozen hand, you felt your head wobble a bit. Harry is sat next to your inert figure, lips parting then closing as he tries to grapple for the right words.

"Well, say something." His words have you snapping your head over to stare at him, your hand shaking from the motion, droplets of ink descending from your quill to rain on your notes.

Cursing quietly, you quickly spell away the mess and sigh, "Harry, isn't it just a little strange? I mean for a good chunk of our last year, Dumbledore acted like you were a ghost, and now he's giving you private lessons on what? Voldemort's childhood?"

Nodding at your (extremely justifiable) response, he runs a hand through his hair, turning to face the window in front of your table.

"And you're saying bloody Voldemort was an orphan– one that Dumbledore tried to intimidate? Bloody hell, the welcoming committee for Hogwarts back then was rubbish, I mean, setting an orphan's meager possessions on fire?" Your words are tinged with amusement and Harry's lips curl up ever so slightly.

Shaking his head lightly, he drops his chin into his palm, "Magical fire," he corrected, "but yes. It was strange to see the Dark Lord look so baby-faced and innocent. But Dumbledore thinks that I'll somehow figure out Voldemort's weaknesses and secrets from these lessons."

Sobering up at his words, your voice turns grave as you take in how exhausted your friend looks, "It's all really happening then. The war,–" you pause to glance at your surroundings, "it's near, and everybody's putting you at the center of it all."

Your words are even, but Harry is able to pick up on the bitter undertone, sending you a strained smile in appreciation. Of course, Harry couldn't help but be in the middle of it all. Wretched prophecy.

"I wish we could run away." The boy next to you makes no move to echo your sentiments, "Once this is all over, I want to go to the beach." At your last statement, he smiles and his eyes glaze over, muttering his own silent wish.

Your wishes fall on silent ears, both of you knowing that the likelihood of making it out of the war was slim. For now, you could enjoy this moment of solace with your burdened friend.

But it seemed that peace would not befall Hogwarts for a long while.

It was finally the day of the Hogsmeade trip, a time of year that usually had students bustling about in excitement. This year however, the energy fell flat as many shuffled in hushed whispers, either mulling over school work or worrying about the increase in death eater attacks.

Hannah Abbott's mother had been murdered less than a month before, and the girl's continued absence at school had set the tone for the following months. Lady Abbott's demise marked a new era of the war, and becoming accustomed to death would be a tough pill to swallow for everyone.

The thought weighed heavy on your mind even as you sat with the trio inside the warmth of The Three Broomsticks, four glasses soon being placed down in front of your hunched figures. As your eyes dart around the tavern, you accidentally snort as you look into the corner of the room.

'Something amusing, little bird?'

Your surprised flinch goes unnoticed by the table's occupants as the rest of your friends take notice of the source of your amusement. You had forgotten that you brought Regulus with you, his portrait lost in one of the many pockets of your jacket.

'Nothing much, crowface, it just so happens that Ron's sister and an old dorm mate of his are snogging right in front of us.'

'Merlin, will you ever let that nickname go?'