𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

"BECAUSE NOBODY TOLD ME THEY BLOODY MOVE"

---

Professor McGonagall’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of the young Slytherin before her. Regulus Black, usually impeccably neat, stood in the middle of the Entrance Hall with a face that looked like he'd gone a few rounds with a Whomping Willow. Blood dripped down his forehead and smeared across his cheek, staining his otherwise pristine robes. Around him, a small crowd of curious students gathered, whispering behind their hands.

“Mr. Black,” she said, her voice edged with concern, “what in Merlin’s name happened to your face?”

Regulus’s grey eyes blazed with frustration. “I just got beaten up by a tree and fell down five flights of stairs…” His voice rose to a furious shout, “BECAUSE NOBODY TOLD ME THEY BLOODY MOVE!”

A few of the students snickered, but the first-year Slytherin didn’t seem to notice. He was still glaring at Professor McGonagall, as though expecting her to reprimand him for raising his voice—or perhaps just to explain how anyone in their right mind would design a castle where both the trees and stairs posed a threat to life and limb.

McGonagall's lips twitched, though she managed to keep a straight face. “Yes, well, Hogwarts can be...unpredictable,” she conceded. “The Whomping Willow is a particularly—ah, temperamental tree, and as for the staircases…” She gave a small sigh. “They do indeed move. However, I would recommend using your eyes as well as your feet next time.”

Regulus huffed. “A warning would have been nice.” He dabbed at his nose with the back of his hand, wincing as the touch stung. “I swear, this place is trying to kill me.”

“Well, Mr. Black, perhaps next time you’ll pay more attention during the welcome speech,” McGonagall said dryly. “Now, let’s get you to the hospital wing before you start scaring the first-years any more than you already have.”

Regulus frowned. “I am a first-year,” he muttered as she gently steered him toward the direction of the infirmary. The gathered students began to disperse, though a few continued to glance back at him, snickering.

“Be that as it may, Mr. Black,” McGonagall continued, “I daresay you’ll be quite used to the eccentricities of this castle by the end of the term.” She paused and glanced at him. “And if not, well, I suppose Madam Pomfrey will have plenty of practice.”