The Marauders: Year One | #Wattys2016

Kreacher's Guest

Kreacher's Guest

Regulus paced about the Slytherin common room. It was so late that it was early and all the other students were sound asleep in their beds in their dormitories, but here he was, trying to suppress the nerves that were coursing through his veins. He was trying to talk himself out of summoning Kreacher again for the third time in as many days. He knew he needed to get over this fear of being all alone in this big school, after all he was eleven, he wasn't a little tot anymore and it was very important that he attend Hogwarts and grow up to be a really good wizard so that he could work for Lord Voldemort one day. His mum had such high hopes for him, and he had dreams to reach for... and all of it depended on his education at Hogwarts. But it was just so hard!

He turned his wand over in his palm, a dark ashwood with unicorn hair inside and a lovely pattern carved into the handle. He was very fond of it from the moment it had chosen him. Regulus had brought it home, exceedingly proud to show Kreacher, who had marvelled at the wand, refusing to touch it, even when Regulus offered him to. He waved it at a small box on an end table, testing out the Wingardium Leviosa charm that Professor Flitwick had taught them in class. The box wobbled, but didn't quite lift off.

"You need to flick at the end, like this," came a voice.

Regulus looked up to see one of the other Slytherin first years, a straw-haired boy named Barty, had come down the stairs, too, rubbing his eyes. He came over, carrying his own wand, and demonstrated - "Swish... and flick. Wingardium leviosa!" And the little box lifted up from the table tremulously, floating for a moment before falling back down to the table top. "I'm not perfect at it yet, either."

"You did better than me," Regulus said.

Barty shrugged, "Try it with the swish and flick."

Regulus gave it a go and the little box picked up off the table. He grinned, "Hey, you're right."

"See? There you are. Good on you!"

Regulus lowered the box carefully to the table and turned to Barty. "I'm Regulus Black."

"Barty Crouch," Barty answered. "So what're you doing awake at this hour, Regulus Black?"

"I just can't sleep," Regulus answered, feeling a bit silly.

Barty licked his lips, "I understand - nor can I." He climbed onto one of the straight backed green chairs and hugged his knees to his chest. "My dad's positively pissed that I'm in Slytherin."

Regulus looked surprised, "Why?"

Barty shrugged, "He wanted me to go Ravenclaw, like he'd been. He made a big deal of it all my life. I've never been smart enough for that. He should've known better."

Regulus perched himself on the edge of the couch. "It's better to be in Slytherin anyway. It's the best house. All of the most powerful wizards that have ever lived were in Slytherin, you know. Slytherin himself for one. And Voldemort."

"Oh my dad hates Voldemort," Barty said. "He works for the ministry, he's the head of the Magical Law Enforcement Department. He wants to be Minister one day."

"Minister? That's pretty cool."

Barty nodded, "Yup. Dunno if he'd be any good, though."

"Why not?" Regulus asked.

Barty shrugged, "He's not very good at being a father. He's never home, he's always at work. Seems the only time I ever get to talk to him is when he's angry with me for something - he's always right there then, ready to criticize me and tell me why I'm not good enough." He rolled his eyes and rocked himself a bit in the chair nervously. "I hate him."