White Soul

For as long as he can remember, Regulus has always had to maintain a certain image of himself. It's a given, as a member of the Black family. He is the heir too, and that title comes with a responsibility, with certain expectations. He cannot simply be himself, he has to be something better.

He has to be mindful of his attitude, careful of his words and of to whom he speaks them. It has long since become a second nature to him. He represents all the values of his family and more.

However, the carefully crafted image that Regulus allow others to see is different of how he actually sees himself. He is certainly biased, but it's unsurprising. He could spend hours explaining what he feels and why, and still, no one would understand him. Not truly. Words simply cannot do justice to the sense of dread he feels when his mother's eyebrows furrow, or his father's eyes fall on him.

Perhaps that is the reasons wizards have daemons. To remind them that they can use as many words as they want, but no one would know, if not the creature that holds a part of their soul and experience their every pain and joy.

Regulus doesn't see himself as someone good. He doesn't see himself as someone bad either.

He is simply a living being, and he does what he has to do to remain so. No more, no less. It might be the survival instinct inherent to all living creatures, or the self-preservation ability for which Slytherins are partly known for. It's stupid, Regulus thinks sourly, as if only Slytherins were cut out for survival. All living beings want to continue living, and isn't fighting for one's survival a proof of life?

Regulus never tried to justify himself, not to others, and not even in the turmoil of his own mind. He knows that he hurts people, continuously. He could argue that it's only words, that he never actively sought to physically hurt someone when he wasn't defending himself, but that wouldn't matter, because words hurt, and he knows that as well as someone can.

The thing is, he doesn't care.  He does not enjoy it, but seeing men and women scream, boys and girls cry, daemons recoil; it does nothing to him. Feeling Diaspone's pain does something to him. Seeing Evan cry, and Barty hurt. 

They are the exceptions, he lacks empathy for the rest of the world. He is not a good person.

But Regulus doesn't hurt people without reason, and he'd rather cut someone with his words than with his wand.

That's the reason he was so surprised when he saw Diaspone jump at another daemon's throat.

Regulus had seen Potter's daemon advance on him. He'd seen his teeth shine, and heard his growl, and he hadn't flinched because as much as he was distrustful; daemons didn't touch humans, and humans didn't touch daemons. Unless it was their own.

The lion wouldn't have hurt him. Yet he had seen his own daemon attack, felt the deep hatred as if it was his own. It might have been. He'd felt the need to taste blood, and the wish to see dead. Disappearing in a cloud of golden dust. Lying on the ground with eyes glassy and empty of emotion. It was only the lion's reflex to turn his head toward his attacker that saved him.

In insight, he shouldn't have been so taken aback by Diaspone's actions. Of course, he's noticed that his daemon is often angry those days. She's quick to snap, guarded, and close off easily.

Regulus might have thought of Potter's death once or twice too, though in none of those scenarios was he the one to kill him, and he actually never got any satisfaction out of any of them. He'd never actually want to kill someone, and he didn't think Diaspone could.

After it happened, they hadn't talked about it. They'd gone to class normally, Regulus took notes, answered questions, and ignored every looks Evan and Barty gave him. Ignored how sick he felt while he was at it.

Two years ago, Diaspone had walked away from him because she wanted to help. A day ago, Regulus had walked away from her because she wanted to kill.

Diaspone hadn't shifted forms afterwards. She had followed him a few long seconds after the distance had began to hurt them both, and remained in the skin of a tiger for the remaining of the day as though the coat of a killer is something to be proud of. As though it's the version of herself she wants the world to see.

He can't look at her, and the coldness between them continues until Regulus climbs into bed for the night and lay down under the covers. The drawn curtains offer them privacy, and after Regulus casts a wordless mufliato, it's only the two of them.

Diaspone get smaller then, until she's a white cat, smaller than the one she usually turns into. Small enough to come settle on Regulus's chest. Despite the millions of thoughts running through his head at the moment, the contact soothes him.

They stay like that for a long time, neither of them uttering a single word, nor falling asleep. Regulus is acutely aware of the amount of sleep he'll be able to have decrease as time goes on, but although he never entertained the idea of procrastinating in his life, he can't help but wanting to remain like this until morning. 

The idea of disturbing the fragile peace they have right now is an unsettling one, like it would never come back if he does.

Still, after what feels like hours, he forces himself to speak.

"Dia?" He asks in a quiet voice, his eyes coming down to rest on her form. How he desperatly wishes for a joint right now, or even one of those white pills Barty has sometimes. Anything to calm his nerves.

He feels more than see Diaspone claws dig into his bare chest before she answers. "What."

Regulus swallows, and slowly raise a hand to place it on her back, wills it to be soothing, doesn't actually know if it'll be perceived as such.

"You were going to kill him." Saying the words feels like a statement, it makes it real. It's not a question because they both know the answer; and he doesn't say a name, because they know who he's talking about.

"Yes." She answers anyway.

Regulus exhale. "Why?"

Slowly, she raise her head to meet his eyes. "Because it's him." 

It's the simpleness of that answer that gets to Regulus. He looks away, reclines his head backward to take a deep breath. He's all too aware of his hand still in Diaspone's fur. Because it's him, as though it justify everything. Because it's her, because it's them. They kill one person and then it's ten because it's them and they don't know how to stop. That thought terrifies him.

Regulus doesn't care about what others think of him. What matters is what he think of himself, and Diaspone. He does horrible things, but he is not horrible, and that's because it's not him who does those things, not really. It's his parent's puppet, what they want him to be. It's what he is when there is all those eyes on him, but it's not him.

 Diaspone doesn't seem to share his thoughts. He's almost certain the disgust that he feels at this instant is his only.

Regulus doesn't like James Potter. He hates him, really. He hates that he is Sirius's brother, he hates how perfect his life is, he hates how very little he cares about the people around him. Regulus hates everything there is to hate about James Potter.

He hopes it's because of that. Maybe he did something wrong, maybe he was careless with his emotions and for a second Diaspone felt all of his hatred for James Potter along with her own. It's true that he's been stressed since receiving his mother's letter. What she said, and the simple fact that they will have to go back at Grimmauld during break, is enough to put him on edge. He's been distracted, hasn't paid enough attention to Diaspone and let her take the weight of their burdens alone.

He can't believe it was all her. Because she had been ready to kill someone. And yes, it was James Potter, someone Regulus despise with all his heart, someone his parents would no doubt congratulate them for killing, the someone who stole his brother.

But he's a human, and he has a daemon, who Diaspone was ready to kill.

"That's not...-" The thoughts swirling through Regulus's head like a storm he's not ready to handle don't allow him to articulate the words he wants. "Why?" He chokes out desperately as he meets her eyes again.

Diaspone deflates. She looks at him, uncertainty shining in her blue eyes. "We lost our brothers… so they should lose theirs, right?"

Regulus can't offer a reply. He can only stare at his daemon with a blank stare. They might not share their thoughts, but they share their feelings. He could pretend that it doesn't make him want to cry and scream every time he sees Sirius and Aragon. He could pretend that it doesn't hurt even more when he sees them with Potter and his daemon.

He would be lying. She would know.

The reason as to why he doesn't get any satisfaction when he imagine a world where Potter is dead is because he also imagine Sirius's reaction. Then he wonders if it would be the same if it was Regulus that died, and he knows the answer.

Even if he thinks that James Potter and his daemon don't deserve to die, it's only because he still has a few morals. But feeling are just thoughts without morals, so if his daemon feels like him and thinks they deserve to die, can he really say that he doesn't?

Regulus is grateful for the muffliato when he starts laughing. The laughter comes suddenly, uncontrollably, and Regulus finds himself dislodging Diaspone from his chest as he double over to try and get some air, while she looks at him with alarmed eyes.

He guesses the mix of raw pain and self-loathing that he feels at the moment doesn't explain why he's laughing. The thought only make him laugh harder, until a few tears streams down his cheeks an his lungs screams for air. By the time he gets himself under control, Diaspone already turned into a wolf, and is pinning him to the bed, her teeth firmly embezzled in his forearm.

Regulus closes his eyes, and takes a slow breath, which proves difficult with the hundred pounds wolf half-laying on him. He lightly taps his daemon's shoulder to get her to let go, and after a light growl that sounds like a warning, she does.

Regulus ignore his bleeding arm in favor of calming his racing heart by taking slow, even breath. Diaspone looks at him as though he were an unknown animal which she doesn't know whether is dangerous or not.

"You've never done that before." She states after a few minutes of silence, only punctuated only by Regulus's breathing. Her eyes are studying him with what could only be described as a frown.

Regulus's lips twitch up. "Well," He continues to focus on his breath, lest his lungs start to hurt again. Although it might not be so bad, the pain does ground him."You've never tried to kill anyone before."

Diaspone bristle. "Is it going to happen again?" She asks curtly, sounding uncomfortable and displeased at the same time.

Regulus shrugs in answer, and she gives him an appraising look before turning on herself and changing back into a cat.

"I don't like it." She mutters with a huff, laying back down on his chest. "Don't let it happen again."

The ghost of a smile come to rest onto Regulus's lips. "I'll do my best."

The silence stretches after that, Regulus looks at his daemon. At her white fur that Mother hates, and her blue eyes that reflect his own. He can't help but think of a time when they would sparkle with unbridled  joy as she turned into the most ridiculous animal she could think of and chase after Aragon. She was beautiful.

"I don't want to kill Potter and his daemon." He murmurs quietly as his hand goes to trace invisible patterns on her fur.

Diaspone's ears drop, and she licks her paw in feigned disinterest. "You will be of age soon. They'll expect you to join. To kill. This isn't different."

Regulus bites the inside of his jaw at this. He knows that. Of course he knows that, the Dark Lord has been on his mind for years at this point. Ever since Sirius left one night and Regulus learned his parents wanted him to take the dark mark that same night. He's a looming presence in his mother's eyes, adding to the many reasons he already has to fear her. Because being prejudiced and hexing kids at school is one thing, but joining a known criminal, and having his mark tattooed on his skin is another.

It's irreversible, and Regulus isn't ready for irreversible just yet.

He will not be of age until more than a year from now though. They still have time.

Regulus still entertains the idea of explaining to his parents that handing him over a supremacist, fascist, dark wizard might not be such a good idea, but he suspects it would not go over very well. They haven't been known to accept criticism, no matter how constructive.

The most likely idea is that he will simply ask to finish his studies abroad. Regulus has the highest marks in his year, and is almost sure he also has the highest in the entire school. No professor would refuse to recommend him to any organization that would be important enough that his parents rethink their priorities. Perhaps the magical congress of the United States would be enough.

"It is different." He argue. "They didn't tell us to kill anyone, so it's different." 

Regulus is too tired mentally to explain to her his entire thought process, but he knows she understands him anyways, like only she can. Even when he's only clutching at straws. He know he is, but killing without being told to is his limit. He doesn't want to become a monster like his parents.

His words rings true. Every single thing that they did and that felt awful because they had to put on a mask, they did it because they had to, because they were told to. They were surviving. What Diaspone did to Arthur, it didn't feel like surviving.

Diaspone looks at him, an he decipher a mix of several emotions through their bond. Pity, sadness, anger, fear. Sometimes he wonders how she can feel so much when he can lock his emotions away so easily. He wishes she could do that too, it's easier.

"If you say so." She says after a long moment.

"Don't attack him again."

Her growl vibrates against him. "No killing, and now no attacking? You think he will follow your rules as well?"

A sigh leaves Regulus. He honestly hadn't thought think of retribution, but considering who exactly it was that she attacked, it's quite possible it happens. Potter probably won't be so crass as to attack them back, but Regulus won't be surprised if he wakes up one day with pink hair, or find his food to have been spiked with some coconut thing. Sirius would probably love to see him choke on his allergy.

"Unless he attacks first then." He maintains stubbornly.

"Why do you care?"

"If you attack him, you'll kill him." Regulus says simply. His hand tighten around her fur, and he feels the pain reverberate on his side. "Don't tell me you'd be able to stop, I know you wouldn't."

Diaspone quiets down. "Fine." She says curtly. "Only for you."

Regulus lets his head fall down until his forehead his against hers. He breath tiredly, "Thank you, Dia."

"Always for you." She murmurs, all anger she could've had leaving her to leave only a bone-deep weariness. Her soft tongue lap at his cheek, and her paw raises to pass through his hair.

Regulus doesn't have the heart to remind her that he still have to sleep, and that any of her work will be gone in the morning. He let her arrange his curls as she wishes. It takes a while, but she settles back down with one of her self-satisfied look when she deems he looks good enough. Wordlessly, Regulus wraps his arms around her, and place the cover on top of them before he extinguish the wandless lumos he cast earlier. He barely remember to heal his arm too. Better no one sees that.

In the dark, with the warm form of his daemon tucked against him and the feel of her breath on his throat, Regulus is asleep in a matter of minutes. Diaspone follows him soon after, lulled by the strong rhythm of his heart underneath her paws.

Regulus sleeps well enough that when he first wakes up the following morning, he needs a second to remember that it's the weekend and that they don't have any classes. Seeing as Diaspone isn't inclined to move- or to wake up, for that matter- and that he is still tired himself, Regulus decides to skip breakfast, and dismiss Evan with a shake of his head, grateful that it's him and not Barty who's here. Salazar knows he would've been much more persistent.

As it is, Evan simply nods tiredly before leaving, Sernon still asleep in his arms. This allow Regulus to turn over in his bed in an attempt to shield Diaspone from the weak light that come through the curtains, and get an additional few hours of rest.

The next time that Regulus is awaken, it's to hushed whispers right next to his bed.

"You said yourselves they needed a moment-" He easily recognize Evan's voice when he says the word 'hypocrite'. 

He identify Barty next. " They're just sleeping, not having a heart-to-heart, and you wanted-" 

"I'm bored." Sernon's voice cut him off.

Bemused, Regulus exchange a look with his daemon, who seems to be a bit more awake than he is. He deduces she woke up when they first started talking. It's unsurprising, cats are light sleepers, and Diaspone has always been one herself.

"I think Sernon and Barty are getting impatient." She says in a deadpan tone as she gets up and start to stretch.

Regulus can't help but snort at that. He takes a moment to listen to the argument taking place beside his bed, and isn't surprised to hear Evie siding with Evan. This is starting to be a recurring occurrence. "She should've been his daemon." He adresses Diaspone as a yawn escapes him, his voice rough from sleep.

She snorts. "Evie and Evan? She would eat him alive."

"And their names are too similar, it's freaky." 

Regulus would've jumped if he wasn't still imprisoned in his covers. He turns his head to shoot a disgruntled look to Sernon, who apparently got into the bed at some point and is making himself at home by arranging one of the pillows to his taste. The racoon's only answer is to blink at him, his eyes the picture of innocence.

With a sigh, Regulus turns his attention back to his own daemon, who doesn't seem to have any intention of defending their pillow anytime soon. He lightly scratches her under the chin, and she immediately let out a purr, leaning happily into his touch.

Regulus gets up after that, opening the curtains to have access to the rest of the room.

"Reg, you're awake!" Barty exclaims as soon as he sees him, in a falsely surprised tone that means he might have spoken loudly on purpose at one point or another so he could get the result he wanted. On his shoulder as a meerkat, Evie sends Regulus an apologetic look.

"Yes." Regulus answers Barty in a flat tone, while Evan sends an annoyed look to their friend. He run a hand through his hair and over his face in the hope of waking up a bit more.

"That's so great." Barty nods with a smile, ignoring Evan obvious irritation with him and his actions. "Now hurry the fuck up and get ready, we're spending the day outside."

The words I have to study, appears first on Regulus's tongue, before he realize that he won't be able to argue that the fact that he studies is precisely why I have good grades, Barty right now. Sighing, he simply starts to walk to the bathroom and asks:

"Cold?" They are in the start of winter, after all.

"No, sun." Barty says obnoxiously as he starts making grand gestures with his hands, which Regulus is almost sure are not part of any sign language in the world. "Warm, Regulus."

"You're not helping." Evan heaves a sigh in that disappointed way he has, before pushing something in Regulus's hands and then pushing Regulus himself toward the bathroom.

He realize a beat later that it's coffee, and he offers a quick and somewhat untidy hug to Evan before he's getting quite literally locked up in the bathroom, his daemon forgotten, as she words it dramatically, outside. As though Regulus is worlds appart from her an not two meters.

Regulus cleans up quickly, aware that he won't have peace for long, then get dressed. He looks at himself in the mirror after that, and, satisfied with his apparence, picks up a potion book that he has been reading. When it's time to leave, Diaspone stretches once again, leisurely, before her body grows in size, and black stripes appear on her fur.

Regulus looks as she walks up to him, feeling incredibly uncomfortable with that particular form, and aware that she can feel it oozing from him in waves. She looks up at him with a blank expression, waiting. He is the first to break eye contact, and only hesitates for a moment before opening the door to join their friends in the common room.

Where Regulus was always very careful of how he presented himself with his posture and his looks, Diaspone has always been obsessed with the forms she took.

Before the age of eighteen, the brain is still forming. The personality is not yet fixed, and therefore the form of the daemon isn't either. They jump from one shape to another, trying out whichever feels better at the moment. It's a pull in their bones that says not this one, not yet, and they can't help but follow.

Diaspone grew up being scorned if she took certain forms, and punished when she needed to change and couldn't stay still because it hurt too much. She developed with Hemati and Walburga sneering and snapping at her whenever she wasn't perfect, to make up for how she looks. She's become good at ignoring the pull, and remaining in the same form for longs periods of time. Which is why it's so easy to think she is already settled when she isn't.

Regulus feels uncomfortable with her current form for a number of reasons. To him, it's the form that she's in when she tries to kill, it screams agression, an he hates that he see her that way. He hates it even more if that's how she sees herself too. Though he guesses that's not too far from reality. 

He's not his mother though, he'll keep his mouth shut, and his emotions to himself. He can do that.

Surprisingly, no comment is made about the fact that he took a book with him, although a number of disheveled look is send his way. Regulus assumes that if they at least have the courtesy to keep their mouths shut, he won't point out how stupid they are to belittle him for his work habits when they clearly lack them. Sometimes he wonders how they manage with their parents. He knows that the only time Barty's father deigns to pay attention to his son is when he gets letters from the school for misconduct, and his mother is obvious in her attempts to make up for her husband's own conduct, so he doubts she would say anything. Evan's situation, however, should be more similar to his. He assumes that the fact Evan has two older brothers has something to do with his parents laxity toward him.

Regulus forces himself to stop thinking when they pass the castle gates. Like Barty said, the sun is bright in the morning sky. It warms the earth and illuminates the Black Lake with golden tones. The fresh air washes away any remaining fatigue Regulus had left, and he feels Diaspone perk up next to him as she smells the odor of nature. They aren't the only ones who wish to enjoy the sun, numerous students are already installed.

The group of Slytherins choose to walk toward the lake, where the view is best and fewer people are there. As he walks, Regulus notices Dorcas, sitting further away with some friends from her year. She sees him too, and offers a exaggerated wave of the hand, which he choose to ignore for the sake of his dignity, although it does makes his lips twitch.

"Shit," Comments Evan- who apparently saw the whole ordeal- with his eyebrows high on his forehead. "You didn't even give her the side-eye."

"That's because she's sensitive sometimes." Diaspone explains absently, focused on trying not to step on Sernon, who seems to have decided it was a good idea to walk between her front legs.

Evan nods thoughtfully, "That makes sense. I think the only time I ever saw you scared was that one time I started crying in front of you."

Regulus sends him a scornful look at that. He had only been startled, certainly not scared, and considering Evan had waited until he was the only one present to start crying, he had a right to be. It wasn't like he had a lot of experience in comforting people. He could heal broken bones, mend torn skin, but when someone burst into tears and he didn't know what needed fixing, he could hardly be expected to find an adequate solution right away. 

"Dorcas doesn't cry." Diaspone denies, apparently finding that's the part that needs clarification. Never mind that the conversation's sole purpose is to humiliate her own human. "She glares at Regulus. He doesn't like it when she does."

"Yeah, I get that." Barty jumps in, "She glared at me for an awful long time the other day."

Regulus doesn't bother to ask what was the reason for the glaring, he frankly doesn't want to knows, and he learned years ago that he was not to interfere in the disputes of his friends. Knowing Barty, he would twist the story to his own benefit anyways.

They continues to walk in a comfortable silence, only stopping when they reach a pine tree, which they often go to. Like usual, Regulus claims it to sit against, and Barty sits next to him. Unsurprisingly, Evan is stolen from them right away by some bystanders he apparently knows. Regulus is more surprised when Evie somehow get Diaspone to go and play with her. He watches the tiger and the golden retriever go with a flat expression before internally shrugging and opening his book. One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, by Phyllida Spore. He'd better get started.

Regulus starts to read, but can only go through a few pages before Barty decides that the silence between them needs to be filled.

"So," He says casually as he glances Regulus's way.

When a few seconds pass and he doesn't add anything, Regulus looks up from his book. "So?" He repeats, raising a brow. 

Wordlessly, Barty gestures to where their daemons are playing, or in Diaspone's case, getting friendly smothered in the grass. "Good?"

Regulus snorts at his friend, and redirect his eyes back to the open book on his lap. "Your eloquence is truly amazing, Barty." He says, hoping to end the discussion before it has a chance to start. Unfotunately, for him, Barty is nothing if not relentless.

The other scoffs dramatically. "Oh, I'm so sorry Mr. 'I'm downright monosyllabic until I get my coffee '. Let me rephrase that, what I meant to say is: I noticed you were pretty pale yesterday, you know, after Diaspone tried to kill Potter's daemon, your hands were shaking too. Also, you didn't speak to any of us for the rest of the day, and I could swear you and Diaspone were avoiding each other, which is pretty fucked up if you ask me, more than her trying to kill someone in the school, maybe less than you leaving without her."

Regulus tenses at the reminder of what happened. He didn't think his reaction had been that noticeable, ignoring how he didn't indulge in any sort of conversation for the rest of the day, he had made a conscious effort to act normally. Then again, he knows that for all of Barty's tasteless jokes and his inability to put his intelligence to good use, he actually is smart. And more sharp than he lets on most of the time.

He allow the silence to stretch between them and forces himself to relax, the only sound being the wind in the leaves above them, and his middle finger's quick tapping on the cover of the book he's holding. The Black family ring is heavy on it, but he's used to it by now.

"How uncomfortable did that make you?" He asks after a while, in a voice he knows is too light to be anything but fake. He doesn't find it in himself to care.

"Less than you." Barty deadpan. He stretches his legs in front of him, his eyes never leaving him "I win."

A scoff leaves Regulus. His eyes go to his daemon, who is still playing fight with Evie. A foul taste settles in his mouth as he looks at them, snapping and pushing at each other, even knowing it's only harmless playing, and that Evie is very capable of defending herself. He sees the tension in Diaspone's shoulders, and barely remember to reply to Barty. "You never won anything in your life with me."

"Maybe I just got better at manipulating you." The reply comes easily.

Regulus doesn't dignify that with an answer, opting to lower his eyes back to his book again, he lets the letters go blurry.

It doesn't last long. Barty apparently won't tolerate deflection today, if his tone is anything to go by. "You didn't answer my question."

A sigh leaves Regulus, he keeps his eyes firmly fixated on the book he is definitely not reading. He briefly entertains the idea of snapping at Barty. If there's one thing Regulus knows about people, it's what to say to hurt them. Especially his own friends, as fucked up as that sounds. But Barty is forcing himself to keep looking at Regulus, and the uneasiness he feels is pratically written on his face, so Regulus takes a deep breath and uses all the diplomacy that years of living in his house have taught him. "Yes, Barty. To reply to your very well formulated question: Good."

Barty hums, an they're quiet again for a moment. Until, "You know, there are mind-healers and shit."

A snort is startled out of Regulus at that, and he has to glance at Barty to check whether or not it's a joke. After all, he isn't known to be particularly tasteful with those. When his friend simply raise a brow, Regulus run a hand over his face. He hit his head back on his tree. 

"Barty, your father is a cunt, my parents are cunts, Evan's parents are- slightly less, but still- cunts. We all have shit lives and literally had a late night discussion about suicide a month ago, and now, just because Diaspone wanted to take a bite out of Potter's daemon you're talking about a fucking healer?"

"Okay," Barty says slowly, carefully. "I get your point- although we were drunk when we had that discussion- but it's your daemon, it's not...-" Barty doesn't seem to find the words, and he gives up with a defeated shrug after a few seconds, with a frustrated noise to punctuate the end of his research. "I mean, if you say it's fine."

Regulus soften at his expression a bit. He press their shoulders together. "It's fine."

Barty hums quietly, and it's that moment that Evie chose to come back, trotting to Barty's side with shinning eyes. Regulus's eyes automatically look for Diaspone, and he can't help a small smile from breaking out when he finds her.

She's basking in the sun while removing the blades of grass that got caught in her fur, inconspicuously close to a group of first years who are looking at her with wide, impressed eyes, and complimenting her not so quietly. It might be why she remained as a tiger. It is impressive, and Diaspone likes impressive. The change of form alone has already caught the eye of every student they've passed since leaving their room.

 "She'll settle as a peacock, this one." Evie states with a huff of laughter, her tail wagging.

"Wouldn't surprise me." Barty snorts, sending an amused look to Regulus, to which he only rolls his eyes in reply.

In truth, he has no idea what his daemon will settle as. He doesn't really care, she's more worried than him in that regards, it makes sense, she'll be the one most affected by it. 

Looking at her now, enjoying whatever attention she gets, he can think that a peacock really would suit her. But he knows that Diaspone only allows herself to be what she wants others to see. She won't have that luxury when she settles, and he wonders, what will she be when all the layers that protects her are gone, and the only choice will be to be herself? Even he doesn't know.

Suddenly curious, Regulus move his gaze to the daemon next to Barty. "What do you think you'll settle as, Evie?" He enquiers.

The daemon blinks at him thoughtfully before answering, "I have no idea. They say you feel it when you become what you're meant to be. There's a few forms that I like, but I haven't really felt anything yet. I guess you have to be ready too."

Regulus hums, and then sends a questioning look to Barty who shrug. "As long as she can beat Texes's ass, I don't really care."

Bartemius Crouch Senior's daemon is a bearded vulture. Regulus only met them once, and for a man who blames his son for his frequentations and for the known inclinations of his house for dark magic, he is surprisingly similar to Regulus's own parents. The Slytherin still remembers vividly his daemon's eyes, calm yet dangerous. Perhaps he only saw them that way because he also remembers the injuries Barty and Evie sustained from him.

The thought brings a bitter and childish feeling to Regulus. If he were a child, he would voice the unfairness of it all. Or not. He understood from a young age that things aren't fair. Things just are. With that in mind, he simply says, "Most people's requirements aren't for their daemons to be able to protect themselves." 

Barty's lips twitch, seemingly unbothered, or uncaring of that fact. "Well, most people are also idiots, so there's that."

It's on that note that the discussion end, as Evan seems to have remembered their existence in the meantime, and Regulus is slightly grateful for that. He is emotional today, bitter, and he doesn't want to say something he'll come to regret later on. He watch silently as Evan drops in the grass in front of them, Sernon in his arms and starts speaking.

"Reg, you're not studying tomorrow night, right?"

"I have Quidditch tomorrow night." Regulus shifts against the tree as he gains back his composure.

A groan leaves his friend. "You're really annoying, you know that?" He send dark looks to both Barty and him, ignoring his daemon as he escapes from his hold to go sniff at the grass. "There's a party."

"There is always parties." Regulus huffs disinterestely. Truly, he wonders how the people that the sorting hat has judged to be the most ambitious ones, are also the ones who throw the most parties. A Sunday too. Evidently, their ambitions aren't academic ones. "We'll be here for the next one."

"What do you mean the next one?" The frown Evan was already wearing deepens. "It's Quidditch, you won't be coming back in the middle of the night."

"We might, actually." Barty sigh dramatically as he leans his head back to look at the sky in a dismayed way. Evie goes to lay her head on his lap, and Regulus shifts further away to give her more room. "Vance has been treating us like elves. She wants that cup."

"We all want that cup. She's right to push us, the Ravenclaw team is good this year, and I heard the Gryffindors have been training nonstop." Regulus immediately defend their captain. It's true she has been especially hard on them recently, but it's because she wants to be ready- and maybe even be one step ahead- when the matches start. Vance is fair, and attentive, overall a good captain. Regulus trust her to win the cup, and if they have to train a little harder, well it'll be all the more gratifying when they finally have the trophy in their hands.

"I don't care." Evan rolls his eyes, likely annoyed at the sole mention of Quidditch. "I want to go tonight."

"And why, pray tell, dear Evan?" Barty asks with a tilt of his head, eyebrows furrowed in mock concern.

"Because we both know that the more the year goes on, the more Regulus will move into the library." Evan replies with a pointed look that dare them to say the opposite. "So we might as well enjoy our life with him now."

"You make it sound as if I'm dying." Regulus rolls his eyes at him and his dramatics. Like he won't ever come out of the library passed a certain point in the year. He also studies in their room.

"A bit dramatic from you Evan," Barty agrees, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Especially when we know you have a bit of a habit of disappearing yourself."

"I don't disappear." Evan clicks his tongue as he looks at them with a frown. "I literally always do the same things. You two are just too lazy to come look for me."

Regulus can't deny that. There is also the fact that Evan is very sociable, and he really doesn't want to find him only to be swept in some sort of meaningless conversation with people he doesn't know, about things he doesn't care about.

"Whatever," Evan huffs petulantly as he moves to lean back on his elbows.

"They'll come." Sernon speaks in a placating tone from his place next to him, as he plucks strands of grass from the ground. He lightly tapes Evan's leg in what Regulus supposes is supposed to be a somewhat comforting gesture.

"We'll come if we want to." Barty scoffs at him. Count on him to be childish.

Sernon rolls his eyes with a huff. "When have you ever not come to a party? You'll come, and unless Reg is too tired- which he won't be since he already slept today- he'll come too."

Regulus crosses his arms, feeling like he's being chastised somehow. "I can sleep two days in a row you know. That's even what I do most days." He states defensively.

"Like, three hours or something." Sernon sniffs as though he just tasted something distasteful. "That's why Diaspone eats and sleep so much, she has to get energy for the both of you somehow." He states as though it makes perfect sense, nodding to himself while he's at it.

Regulus barely refrains from spluttering indignantly at that. His daemon doesn't eat that much, and if she sleeps a lot it's only because unlike some, she has a reason to let her brain rest.

"Barty thought you were a vampire in first year." Evie muses absently, half laying on her human. It effectively diverts Regulus's attention from all the arguments he was already listing in his head to prove that Diaspone is much better than the masked rat in front of him.

Regulus catch Barty's eye at that, realization dawning on him, and he can't refrain from stating the obvious. "You're an idiot."

Barty starts to sputter something indignantly, and Evie let out a laugh. Regulus doesn't bother to listen to his excuses, and instead watch as Sernon climb atop of his human's head, Evan still wears a disgruntled expression.

In truth, Regulus thinks he will come. He's been all too aware that the days until they have to return home are rapidly decreasing since his mother's letter, and although that didn't bother him as it didn't affect anything beyond his feelings, he's now very conscious of how negatively it can affect his daemon if he isn't careful. Spending a fun time will relax him, and that will hopefully influence Diaspone into doing the same.

It's not like he isn't used to go through his classes with less hours of sleep than is recommended, or with a hangover for that matter. He sleeps much better when he's too intoxicated or tired to think anyways.

. . .