Trapped

The Beginning

In the Great Hall, a vibrant buzz filled the air as hundreds of students eagerly piled food onto their plates. Amid the cheerful chaos, one group stood out: the Marauders. James Potter darted around the Gryffindor table, chasing Sirius Black, while Remus Lupin sat quietly with a book. Peter Pettigrew ate with single-minded focus, oblivious to the commotion.

Nearby, Alice Fortescue sat with her boyfriend Frank Longbottom and her best friends Lily Evans and Mary MacDonald. Marlene McKinnon was conspicuously absent, no doubt tangled in another ill-advised romance.

Suddenly, a blinding light split the air. A figure emerged, draped in shadows and impossible authority. He smiled with the ease of someone who had never been questioned.

"I am Death," he said, his voice crisp. The room fell still.

"Today," he continued, "you'll watch the life of someone you know well. A student who touched many lives, whether you noticed or not."

With that, the professors vanished. In their place, Pureblood families began to appear one by one: the Potters, the Blacks, the Prewetts, the Longbottoms, and the Malfoys. The air changed. Less festive now. Charged.

Euphemia Potter immediately seized on her son.

"James, what have you done now?"

He lifted his hands in mock surrender. "Nothing this time, I swear."

Fleamont pulled her gently back. "Let's just sit."

Then came Walburga Black's venom. "Sirius, you disgrace, consorting with blood traitors." Her glare landed like a curse on Lily, James, and Remus.

Euphemia turned, her expression unflinching.

"If you look at my children like that again, I'll hex you so hard even your little Lord won't know what's left of you."

Sirius jumped up, clapping. "You hear that? My Mum's been outmatched."

Sirius laughed heartily, watching the bewildered Slytherins grapple with the concept of a movie. He nudged James, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"James, if Death likes Muggle theatre, does that mean the Dark Lord needs to rethink his branding? Maybe swap the skulls for puppies?"

James nearly choked on his pumpkin juice, collapsing into laughter. "Imagine the recruitment posters!"

Remus rolled his eyes but smiled behind his book. The Gryffindor table roared with laughter.

But across the hall, one laugh didn't come.
Regulus Black sat frozen, caught somewhere between disbelief and hurt. The corners of his mouth twitched, as if unsure whether to smile or flinch. His brother had joked — again — as if Regulus didn't exist. As if the distance between them had turned to ash long ago.

He lowered his gaze, but not before his expression cracked for just a second. His hand gripped the edge of the table too tightly.

He wasn't laughing. He was breaking.

Because Sirius hadn't even spared him a glance.

"Decorum, children," Euphemia said softly. "Even if others lack it, we don't have to match them."

Across the room, Regulus Black winced. Bellatrix Lestrange scowled, arms folded. Rodolphus mirrored her. None of them liked being attacked.

The screen flickered to life.

A girl in Slytherin robes walked toward what appeared to be the headmaster's office. She straightened her back at the base of the stone stairs. Her hand smoothed her dark caramel-brown hair, but the motion wasn't nervous, just controlled. Her face looked tired, but there was no fragility. Her olive-green eyes burned with something cold.