Chapter 1
Regulus sighed silently and bored while Rider told her stories. Not only were these stories completely without value - he didn't have the slightest idea why he was sitting here.
Sirius, his so-called brother (the voice that titelnd Sirius that way, sounded suspiciously like their mother), had faced a Boggart without a wand and then seemingly blamed everything on Regulus. The absurdity;
The new professor had bought it from the Gryffindor.
The youngest Black resisted the urge to tap his fingers on the table. Blacks showed no boredom. Resentment, yes. But not powerless boredom. Why hadn't Slughorn helped him out of this madness? The old tutor usually stood up for Regulus.
Secretly, he glanced at the other row of seats where the four Gryffindors were sitting together, listening to the ex-Auror with rapt attention. Suppressing a contemptuous snort, he turned his gaze away and looked in front of him again. A raven had perched in front of the windowsill and cawed softly before preening its feathers.
A feeling of longing and slight jealousy arose in the young Slytherin. Even as a small child, he had wanted to fly away like a bird. Free as one of those feathered animals.
His thoughts were lost above the clouds, where there were no obligations, no rules and no disappointments. No one to judge you or expect you to be perfect...
His relaxation vanished abruptly when two hands landed on his shoulders and pressed them down with gentle but clear intent. The raven cawed and fluttered hastily away.
Regulus winced and reprimanded himself for not controlling himself better. Why hadn't he noticed how Rider had stopped talking, or how she had stepped behind him? His heart pounded in shock as she spoke calmly.
"Do you know that Aurors learn to fight without a wand? I could just wring your neck right now." said the DADA professor, smiling coolly down at him. "Oh, and we also work with potions, of course."
With those words, she levitated an old book on potions towards him and then placed it on the table with a loud thud. Regulus flinched again involuntarily. "You're welcome to borrow the book, Mr Black." the ex-Auror explained calmly. Just as if she were doing Regulus a big favour.
Her hands still rested menacingly on Regulus' shoulders and he felt every muscle fibre in his body tense as he waited. What in Morgana's name had possessed this madman? His mouth was dry and nothing seemed further from his mind, but he nodded and thanked her quietly. He felt the looks of the other students on him and his eyes burned with humiliation.
He seemed to have satisfied Rider, because she released him from her grip and stepped back forwards. Regulus' gaze was fixed on the tabletop. In front of him lay the battered potions book. A snort almost escaped him. Why would he want to specialise in potions? Because he was a Slytherin?
Rider's voice sounded softly through the classroom to dismiss them. Regulus reluctantly took the book, shouldered his bag and silently left the scene.
The "marauders" walked away chatting excitedly. No one spared a glance back at him. Not even Sirius. Why should he? They were not brothers. Why should the older boy care how he felt after such a strange experience?
Regulus silently made his way into the evening darkness. His senses were always on the alert to see if Rider was following him.
No, he didn't fear Rider. A Black was not afraid. A Black despised.