Crimson Rivers

Chapter Five: Evaluation Aftermath

Regulus knows he shouldn't. He knows it's a bad idea, and Sirius would be furious if he found out, because he made it very clear from the beginning not to antagonize the gamemakers.

The thing is, when Regulus goes into his evaluation in the afternoon of the last training day, he walks in with a plan. It's a simple plan already approved by Sirius. Go in, show off with various daggers, then leave. Very simple.

He means to do this, and he does for the most part, but...

Well, it's just that Regulus detests this entire experience, even more so when glancing up to see the various people up there watching him intently, laughing and looking excited when he shows them what he's capable of. Just a pawn for them. A character in their show. They don't understand the gravity of his situation; they don't know what's at stake; they don't know what it's like to be afraid, even for a moment.

Regulus wants them to be afraid, to come face-to-face with their own frail existence. Horace Slughorn is the head gamemaker, and he's the one Regulus aims for. It's a quick snap of his wrist, and the dagger flies through the air, burying itself in the cushion right next to Slughorn's head. Regulus aims close enough to slice off one strand of hair that drifts down to his shoulder, but not close enough to actually injure him.

They all fall silent, and Slughorn slowly turns his head to stare at the handle of the knife with wide eyes. He reaches up and pulls the hair off his shoulder, holding it up in visible disbelief, and they're all shaken. Regulus can see that it scared them, and he relishes in it. When they all look at him, he gives a mock bow and walks out with his head held high.

Yeah, Sirius can never know about this.

~•~

"You threw a dagger at his head?!" Sirius bellows, feeling dangerously close to going fully fucking mental. He raises his arms and waves them wildly. "Have you lost your mind?! What were you thinking?! Do you have any idea—"

"Can you just—not?" Regulus cuts in wearily, rubbing the side of his head with a sigh. "How did you even find out?"

"Slughorn came complaining to me about it, telling me to keep my tributes in line," Sirius snaps, his nostrils flaring. "You can't just do things like that, Reggie! You don't understand how you put not only yourself but James and also me at risk when you act like a selfish, unthinking child!"

Regulus glares at him. "That's rich, coming from you."

"This is the Hallow!" Sirius explodes, smacking the back of one hand into his other open palm. "The rules are different here. You can't just do whatever you want to whoever you want just because you're feeling a little angry. Breaking news, but we're all feeling a little fucking angry! Every move you make, every word you speak, every choice you go with—it reflects on you, and not only you, but on us. And that controls just how much fucking danger we're in, do you understand?"

"Well, clearly you're blowing this out of proportion," Regulus snaps defensively, gesturing to the screen. "You saw my score. It was higher than everyone else's."

Sirius could strangle him. He could actually strangle his stubborn, innocent little brother. He really could. "That's not a good thing, Regulus! That's bad! That's very, very bad, you fucking idiot. What do you think that score tells everyone else, hm? What do you think it tells the enemies you've already made? Go on." Regulus doesn't answer, choosing to look away, his jaw clenched. "It tells them that you're a threat, and not only that, but you're a bigger one than they realized. It makes them bitter and eager to hunt you down and slaughter you."