Cordelia Potter-Clermont, born a Potter but raised as a Clermont, is a girl caught between two legacies. When she arrives at Hogwarts in her sixth year, she is a whispered enigma-brilliant, alluring and veiled in shadows. Unlike her brother James, C...
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Regulus Arcturus Black desperately wanted sleep. His grand plan had been simple: board the train, locate their usual compartment, fashion a makeshift pillow out of his books, and blissfully sleep through the entire journey. After all, he was in dire need of rest, having barely slept a wink back home-so homely and welcoming, it could've easily passed for a fucking graveyard. Ever since he'd become a prefect, he'd been cursed with the brilliant fortune of patrolling the corridors on the first night back, and he had no reason to believe this year would be any different. He needed a good, solid nap so he could dive into his sixth-year studies with the intensity of a madman from the next day.
For a while, things had been looking up. The compartment he found was blissfully empty, save for his friends Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch Jr., who were considerate enough to leave him undisturbed. Although, he vaguely remembered something about Evan shaking him awake, mumbling something about an earthquake? But who knows, it could've just been a dream. He'd quickly drifted back to sleep, undeterred by the interruption.
Now, however, he trudged through the train, mustering every ounce of energy he could scrape together. Every few steps, he seriously contemplated blowing up the entire train just so he could vanish with it, or at the very least, find a quiet corner to curl up and cry in peace. His once-perfect haven had been disturbed, and now he was left feeling more frustrated and restless than before. The thing is, Regulus Black loved sleep. Well, except when there were studies to ace, Quidditch to dominate, or his favorite breakfast tempting him out of bed. Some might argue there were plenty of exceptions, but that's beside the point-sleep was his sanctuary. And right now, his blasted prefect duties were mercilessly ruining it.
He was good at being a prefect, damn good, and he took a certain amount of pride in that. Slughorn had even told him he was one of the best, though Slughorn's words were about as reliable as a chocolate teapot. Still, Regulus knew he was exceptional; after all, other professors had praised him too. He was top of his class, never had a detention to his name, and his reputation was practically pristine compared to his fellow Slytherins. So, yes, he was mostly satisfied with his school life. But right now, at this very moment, he was seriously regretting ever accepting the prefect badge.
When Regulus flung open the carriage door, his eyes widened in sheer consternation. It seemed as though nearly every student at Hogwarts had chosen this single carriage as their haven. The space was so cramped that finding a place to stand was a Herculean task, and a seat was as elusive as the fabled Golden Snitch.
At the far end of this veritable sea of bodies, he glimpsed Barty and Jules Brown, barely distinguishable amidst the throng. Barty, with an arched eyebrow and a sly grin, beckoned him forward. Regulus, feeling as though he were wading through an exceptionally obstinate crowd at a wizarding festival, endeavored to make his way through.
The students made valiant attempts to clear a path, but it resembled swimming through thick molasses. He shuffled and wriggled, inching forward with a blend of frustration and wry amusement, contemplating whether he might be entombed here among his peers or emerge with a tale of survival destined for the annals of Hogwarts gossip.
