Part 3
Regulus opened his eyes, drinking in his surroundings. He wasn't in the Slytherin common room that was for sure. The pale walls surrounded him, windows allowing the sunlight to bask the room in a light golden glow. His joints ached, and his brain found it hard to focus on his surroundings. The ceiling was covered in light wooden beams, crossing each other in the middle. The floor was covered in beige slabs of smooth stone. It all seemed so comforting. His mind was still working at a snail's pace so he couldn't pin point where he was. A sweet voice rang from behind him. It sounded like it was from a lullaby. Calming.
"Regulus, darling, I would recommend that you stay still for now." the voice was sweeter than honey. It was so familiar to him. He knew who was speaking to him but his head was still spinning. He slowly looked over to his right and saw an older woman wearing a bright white apron over a deep red dress that covered all of her torso and legs, only allowing the ends of her shoes to be seen. Her grey hair was pulled back neatly and covered with a cap covering it. She smiled lightly as her deep blue eyes inspected the boy in front of her. "If your friends are to be believed, you took quite a hard fall in your common room. Now I won't ask many questions but may I ask if you are doing alright at the moment?"
Regulus nodded stiffly, unable to find to find his voice. Everything hurt and it didn't help that his ears were ringing. Slowly his memories returned from the night before. He really wished that he could erase any trace of that evening. He wasn't looking forward to meeting Barty again but now he was dreading it more than ever. What would Evan say? Would he even care? Why did he care so much about what they were going to see? Barty sure as hell wouldn't be happy to see him again especially after what happened. It always took ages for him to loosen up after he snaps. Then again it was his fault that he snapped. If only he could have stayed focused. If he hadn't pretended to be fine, Barty wouldn't have yelled at him. He recalled the look in his eyes when he fainted. Anger flashing to realisation.
"Regulus. Are you doing alright? You had a very worrying look on your face." Madam Pomfrey looked at him with a curious expression painted on her face. Regulus must have forgotten where he was again. Why did he do this? Merlin why couldn't he focus?
"Yes Ma'am I was just recalling the details from last night. Thank you for worrying, though." he said gently, refusing to look at the woman on his right.
"No need to call me 'ma'am'. You can just call me Poppy"
Regulus stared at her. How could she be so sweet? He felt relaxed around her, which was strange for him as he never did around most members of staff. The only exception was, of course, Minnie. She was the mother he never had and never will have.
His back hurt and his legs ached beyond compare. His head was still buzzing which definitely did not help the ringing in his ears. His lungs clung onto every breath he took, not willing to let it go. His mind tried to let go of the set of eyes watching him carefully, searching for patterns and things that could go wrong. His voice had gone dry, he could fee it going to a whisper without needing to talk. Tears threatened to spill but they remembered the eyes by the bed. A deep blue gazing at him with a soft expression. She was catching on to what was happening and swiftly moved to her office. He leaned back onto the head rest and sighed. It wasn't his usual annoyed sigh, this time it was one of relief. Relief that the eyes were gone. He knew that they meant no harm. He knew that they meant to protect him. He knew. He did but they felt like someone else's watching his every move. They felt like hers.
He rested his head in his hands. A million thoughts spun through his head. Screams filled his brain to the point where he couldn't decipher his from the other's. He couldn't bear any of it. His nails dug into his skin. He focused on the pain burning his arm, it distracted him from the countless thoughts telling him her lies. The lies that broke him when he was younger. When he was still innocent. When he used to believe in his family's opinions. Before he realised their intentions. The burning got hotter and hotter until his mind stopped. He snapped his eyes open. He hadn't even realised that they had been shut. He snapped his head up, taking a deep breath. How could he have been so stupid? Why did he believe them? He was the almighty Heir to the Noble House of Black. He had to keep his head high or else. Mother would never have allowed this. Never would, never will. He deserved this. It was his fault. He just needs to focus that little bit more. A knock at the Infirmary doors snapped him out of his spiral.
Two boys walked in with their hands in their pockets. They slowly shuffled to his bed. Regulus stared at them, trying to remember their names, vague memories resurfacing. He knew them, but from where?
"Hey Reg! How are you? How was the fall?" This one's voice was smooth and rich, filled with joy that was slightly hollow. The faintest bit fake. It was slightly pained but so well masked that it was hard to notice without a trained ear. He knew it of by heart. This person's tones and changes but they seemed o far away. "I guess you are still recovering, don't worry I'm sure Poppy won't mind you staying a bit longer." the boy winked before laughing at Reg's facial expression.
"Shut up Siri." the words naturally flowed out of his mouth. He hadn't even meant to say anything, they just spilled out. He guessed that his subconscious knew better than him.
"Hey, I just want apologise for yelling at you. I just had a rough day as well and Evan wasn't helping." the other boy told him quite flatly with a blank expression on his face. He knew who it was this time. Barty.
"Now wasn't you who said that a rough day didn't matter? Wasn't it you that shouted at me for using that as an excuse? I guess we are both hypocrites then. Aren't we Barty?" Anger laced his words, poisoning his voice. He had enough of the excuses that Barty produced like a mini factory. It drove him mad. He pretended to deal with it but every time he wanted to kill him more. Every day he was pushed further to his limit. He had snapped at Barty more times than he could count but Barty always stormed out in a huff. But when he did it, it was perfectly fine. Perfectly reasonable. Free of consequence.
It simply was not fair. Then again his life was far from fair. Anything but.