SNAKE - Regulus Black

Chapter four ~ Toxic Intentions

The day had dragged on in an awkward limbo for Regulus Black. From the moment Cassandra had stepped into the Slytherin common room that morning, she had skillfully avoided him. Every time he caught a glimpse of her – in the corridors, at breakfast, even during the rare free periods – she would conveniently turn the other way or strike up a conversation with anyone nearby.

It wasn't like Cassandra to give him the cold shoulder. Not to this extent. He knew why, of course. Their conversation the night before had spiraled into unfamiliar territory. What had started as an honest discussion about her ambitions had turned sour when Regulus, in a rare moment of vulnerability, had expressed his doubts about her joining the Death Eaters.

By the time Potions rolled around in the afternoon, Regulus had had enough. He was not one to avoid confrontation, least of all with Cassandra, and Potions seemed like the best chance he'd get to talk to her privately. The warm, bubbling cauldrons would offer a distraction for their peers and, with Professor Slughorn's easygoing nature, there wouldn't be much danger of being overheard.

As Regulus entered the classroom, his eyes immediately scanned for Cassandra. She was sitting at their usual table, stirring her cauldron with more force than necessary, her lips pressed into a thin line. He took a deep breath and strode over, his robes billowing slightly as he did.

"Cassandra," he said, keeping his voice low but firm. "We need to talk."

She didn't look up from her potion, her green eyes focused on the slowly shifting colors in the cauldron. "I don't think we do," she replied coolly, her voice laced with irritation. "In fact, I think you've said more than enough."

He slid into the seat next to her, ignoring the stares of a few curious students. "You've been avoiding me all day. If you're upset, you should—"

"I'm not upset," she cut him off, her hand moving with a deliberate precision as she added a handful of powdered asphodel to the brew. The potion hissed as it bubbled. "I just don't feel like having the same pointless conversation over and over again."

"It's not pointless," Regulus muttered, lowering his voice further. "This is your life we're talking about. You can't just—"

"Do what I want?" she finished for him, her tone sharp as the edge of a blade. She finally turned to face him, her eyes flashing with defiance. "Sorry, Regulus, I didn't realize you were suddenly the authority on what I should or shouldn't do with my future."

"I'm not trying to control you," he said, struggling to keep his composure, "but this isn't just about you. You're making a decision that could—"

"That could what?" she interrupted again, her voice rising slightly. "Get me killed? Make me a target? Or is it that you're afraid I'll outrank you, Regulus? That I'll get further in the Dark Lord's ranks than the precious Black heir?"

Regulus clenched his jaw. He had expected her to be angry, but this... this was something else. "You know that's not what this is about," he said quietly, keeping his eyes locked on hers. "I just don't want you to make the same mistake I did."

"Oh, right, because you're so much wiser now," she said with a sarcastic smile, tossing a few more ingredients into her cauldron with unnecessary force. "You made your choice, Regulus. And I'm making mine. You don't get to judge me for it."

Regulus sighed, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. "I'm not judging you. I just... I care about you, Cassandra. I don't want to see you hurt."

Cassandra scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Don't try that with me, Regulus. You don't get to play the caring friend card when you've already decided what you think of me."