wicked | regulus black

chapter four

REGULUS

Lunaria Constella Reed. Regulus had looked her up in the family archives that detailed every pureblood family since the beginning of the wizarding world.

Lunaria Constella Reed. Even her name was beautiful. Merlin, she was mind-boggling. Regulus had got Kreacher to run a diagnostic charm over him once he'd returned home out of fear she'd actually charmed him. He'd never been so enamoured by someone so quickly. He'd seen her around school of course, she was best friends with Barty's twin - of course he'd seen her, heard little tidbits of information over the years but nothing came close to being in her presence.

As Regulus slowly packed away the last of his belongings ready to set off the next day he couldn't get the girl off his mind. He needed to. The last thing he wanted was for Barty, Evan and Dorcas to get wind of his school-boy crush. No, he could compartmentalise it. But Merlin was she someone he wanted to know more of.

Since Sirius had run away, Regulus had been toying with his pureblood beliefs. Teetering on the cusp of giving in and following blindly, or attempting to see why Sirius found it necessary to leave them; to leave him.

He mused over the idea since Sirius had left the summer before the younger Black sibling started his fifth year, but hadn't made any real effort to unlearn what his parents had taught him and re-learn the realities of the world - after all Diagon Alley wasn't built in a day.

But Lunaria; she was just like him, pureblood, raised to be a follower and there she was, openly discussing muggle literature with him? Surely she didn't speak of such topics to just anyone? He shook off the little warm feeling settling in his stomach as he pondered the idea of being special to her. They just met for fucks sake.

When Sirius Black left in a haze of red and agony, Regulus felt a part of him rip away with him. He'd long since given up on the hope of a reconciliation, he no longer wanted one. Sirius may be blood but he wasn't his brother. Blood may run thicker than water, but he'd sooner drown himself in the water of others than the blood of a brother that abandoned him.

When Regulus had returned to Hogwarts and saw Sirius for the first time, laughing with the likes of James Potter, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, Regulus found that the ache in his chest had dulled, barely noticeable now. They'd been drifting for years, turns out all it took for their connection to break was one final argument, a couple of cruciatus' and a handful of spiteful words. So Regulus had spent the year further cementing the bonds between himself, Barty Crouch Jr, Evan Rosier and Dorcas Meadowes. And it was the best thing he'd ever done.

Climbing into his bed, Regulus let out a sigh as he sunk into the mattress. He'd be in the Slytherin dormitories by this time tomorrow and he couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face. In less than twenty-four hours he'd be home.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Stepping onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Regulus decided he didn't care if you were Pureblood, Muggle-born, Squib or something in between. He hated people. He didn't care about their blood he decided as everyone and their mothers brushed past him on the bustling platform, eager to say their goodbyes and grab a spot on the train. Why people felt the need to be so emotionally vulnerable at 10:30 in the morning, he had no idea. But he hated it.

Walburga Black did not cry whenever she dropped her son at the barrier, nor did she issue any tearful, heartfelt goodbyes, not even back in his first year. No, every year it was the same. Her nails would dig into his shoulder painfully, and she'd whispered, "Do not disappoint me, Regulus," before releasing him and turning sharply on her heel, refusing to enter the Platform and mix with those she deemed lesser than herself. A shadow of black robes swirling in her wake as she left her son alone.