They Discovered PubtertyTM
…Third year, circa 1974 started. And with that, the very first echoes of a distant, oncoming war.
—
If there was one thing she did not miss about growing up, it's puberty. It sucked the first time, it's definitely going to suck the second time.
The periods. The cramps. The hair. The acne. The mood swings. The Everything.
Dorcas missed none of them, and nobody on Earth was happier than she was when she stopped menstruating around forty. No having to curl up in bed feeling absolutely horrible and so very horny for days at a time every single month does wonders to her mental health.
And to think Dorcas has to go through all of that, again. At least this time, she wasn't the only one suffering.
The boy's voices are cracking all over the place, every other sentence sounding like it was either spoken by old men with deep gravelly voices or screeching toddlers who have a bad case of jitters. Barty, Evan and Reg were complaining to each other about the ridiculous amount of sweat they had to wash off after Quidditch, and how their closets smell worse than a skunk bear's behind. Sev's hair was only ever getting greasier, which was not helped by his extended stays in The Room's alchemy lab. Lily had even worse cramps than she did— the poor girl keeps vomiting and crying in pain whenever it came— so when Pandora managed to re-make her miracle cure for the copious amounts of back pain the girls are going through, it was all they could do not to bawl their eyes out right then and there.
Even Dorcas herself experienced changes, especially now that she's of a different race. She learned how to take care of her hair, for one. How to correctly apply sunscreen, for two.
Long story short, puberty sucks, but it majorly sucks when you have to go through it twice and in a completely different body. Most of them got off easy, with Pandora having to limit her sun-exposure, Dorcas having to crane her neck to properly shampoo and both Barty and Evan having to get used to their different-colored hairs growing in other places.
But Regulus?
Dear Kyoshi does Dorcas feel relieved she's not the one who went through a nonconsensual gender-swap. From Suki's memories, Toph already has a hard time dealing with ‘becoming a lady’; who knows how cranky Reg's gonna get now that he has to deal with morning wake-up calls from his little sausage.
Dorcas huffed a laugh. Glancing at her best friend, her shield sibling, she can say with certainty that they'd be dealing with a very moody Regulus Black for the next few months.
—
“Pandora!”
“Yes, Regulus?”
“Do you wanna commit a felony with me?!”
“Regulus!!”
The blind boy blinked. “Oh. Right.”
He leaned into her space, mouth to her ear with a whisper, - “Do you wanna commit a felony with me?”
Pandora’s eyes twinkled delightfully, leaning back with an equally-quiet whisper, - “Of course, Toffee.”
—
Tom Marvolo Riddle, or Lord Voldemort, eyed his wand with a critical eye. His skill and his magic has never failed him.
They will not fail him now.
Those of the Sacred Twenty-Eight were much too easy to manipulate. Appeal to their pride, to their inherent superiority complex and he has them eating out of his hand within five minutes flat.
The followers were easy. His Hogwarts years were spent wisely, planting ideas and thoughts into their stuffy little heads. Most of them were already so full of themselves and protective of their precious ‘Toujours Pur’ that it was embarrassingly easy.
Rolling his eyes, he snorted. Tedious, is what this is.
The idiotic members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight were easy enough to pull in. The Heads of Houses were what matters.
Let's see if they were any more entertaining.
—
“Hey guys?”
“Yes, Evan?”
“Between the waterbenders and Reggie, which one of you could bend liquid mercury?”
“...”
“Room! Give us liquid mercury!”
Splash. Plop.
In the middle of the room, was a vat of liquid mercury.
They all blinked.
“...guess we'll find out.”
—
As expected, most of them were quite disappointing.
Voldemort was expecting at least a challenge with some of them, like the Blacks, for example. It seems the Britain branch of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black is humiliatingly behind on the times compared to the main family back in France.
Shame. He would've enjoyed some intelligent argument with the family head. Such a disappointment that all he got was Cygnus and Orion Black being frigidly arrogant, looking down at him over their upturned inbred noses.
Really.
It was such a shame.
—
Regulus sniffed around, before crouching down and picking up Mrs. Norris.
“Meow.”
“Yes, yes, I know. We'll cuddle later. I need to find Nova now, Norry, please wait.”
Damn the fucking Avatar— where is that bloody cat?
Like many students know, there are other beings living in the Hogwarts Castle besides the ghosts, students, faculty and elves. What most don't realize, however, was that there were actually three cats on campus. Mrs. Norris, whatever breed Professor McGonagall’s Animagus was, and a sassy little tabby that Regulus had named Supernova.
As he passed the corridor, he felt the little pitter-patters of the familiar paws belonging to the very cat he was looking for.
“Nova!” - In one fell swoop, Regulus picked her up, cradling her against his chest next to Mrs. Norris, - “I was looking everywhere for you, little lady.”
The sight of a ruffled Regulus Black, tiny, barefooted and swamped with two cats cuddling into his chest was actually a rather regular occurrence. His library friends and other acquaintances shouted greetings as he passed, with him responding in kind, speeding through the halls towards the large grassy expanse just outside the castle.
All of them were already there— his friends, his brother, his cousins, and the three awkwardly sheepish Gryffindors.
Barty and Evan were huddled together under their tree on the picnic blanket, heads together arguing about something. Dorcas, Lily and Remus are looking through a book together, quaint noises of discussion can be heard through the wind. Pandora and Severus were speaking Potions-talk while completely decimating the plate of oranges they were sharing, again. A disturbed-looking James Potter was morbidly curiously listening to Sirius’, Bella’s and Andie’s three-way debate about martial duels; while next to them, Daffy and Pettigrew sipped tea, content.
“Guys!” - Rushing towards them, Regulus smiled big and wide, arms still bundled with two magical(?) cats; his feet striking the ground at uneven intervals.
“Hey, Reg!”
—
Voldemort eyed them all critically.
Fools.
Such easy, bull-headed fools.
And to think, he was once one of them.
A smile played on his lips.
Not anymore.
His skill, renown, power and words got him far. But the farther he went, the more they were wrecked.
A malicious grin spread.
Such stupid, stupid sheep. You don't go around believing every preach given by a stranger— words have strength, and with enough training, they gain power.
If these inbred ants wanted their ego feds to keep them happy? Well, he would just have to feed them enough to keep them from starving. If they want more, they'll have to beg, to earn.
And oh— beg they do.
Voldemort was quite amused. They thought he was leading them to the heights of might, to a new world where all that would be talked about was ‘Toujours Pur’ and the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Fools, the lot of them.
Everything is going according to plan.