Chapter 6
The broomshed was easy to break into. With a whispered alohomora and a flick of his wand, the latch lifted silently and the wooden door swung open, revealing to Regulus a large but disappointing collection of brooms. An entire wall was covered in dusty looking Cleansweep Ones that looked like they had taken a beating or two in their lives, and were labeled in messy writing: “For First Years”. Several black bags that Regulus guessed contained sets of Quidditch balls littered the floor, Regulus almost broke his toe tripping over one as he continued further into the shed. The bag gave an angry quiver.
The back of the shed was swathed in darkness, especially with the dim light outside from the still rising sun. Regulus peered into the spidery looking rows of old brooms for a few moments before turning and spotting the newest broom he had seen so far. A slightly worn but intact Comet 260 was propped against the wall beside a large box labeled “quaffles and such”. Regulus grabbed it with a sigh, hurrying out of the shed and shuddering as he brushed off the spiders that had crawled onto his arms.
The sun had dyed the sky a burnt orange that reminded Regulus of his father’s favorite dessert they had every christmas, and as Regulus rose into the air he could feel the worries slowly melting off his chest. The countryside stretched for miles around him, blanketed in low hanging fog, and Regulus was reminded of his aunt's house outside of London. He would fly up with a view just like this, the whole world just gray clouds and dewy green. Regulus could almost imagine he was there right now, that when he landed his mother would be waiting in the kitchen with a sneer on her face. The spike of fear was smothered at his realization that the only thing awaiting him on the ground was a warm breakfast in the great hall, candles twinkling merrily over mugs of hot cider. His mother wasn't waiting on the ground, she was likely sleeping hundreds of miles away in London. She couldn't reach him now, even if she came to Hogwarts and burned the whole school down, as long as Regulus was high on his broom nobody could touch him.
An impossible rush of freedom flooded over Regulus. It was as if his ribs had opened up and his heart was finally breathing in the crisp air. He resisted the urge to let out a whoop of joy. He had never felt emotions this strongly, except maybe fear. The last five days had been a numb blur, but now the final realization that he had escaped was pouring over him in waves of indescribable feeling. Regulus didn't know if he wanted to cry or laugh or shut back down to avoid this strange rush.
Get yourself together, Reg. he snapped at himself. if someone walked onto the Quidditch pitch, he did want them to see Regulus Black laughing hysterically alone on a broom.
Regulus managed to force a layer of calm over him once again. He had just come out here to fly around a bit. Regulus told himself. That was what he was going to do.
Regulus was almost level with the astronomy tower now, and if he squinted, he could see crimson curtains a few turrets away that he knew belonged to Gryffindor dorms. He wondered if Sirius was asleep in one of those, and involuntarily pictured James Potter and his tousled hair asleep next to him.
Regulus felt his cheeks grow warm.
“What is wrong with you, Reg.” he muttered to himself. He had to get out of whatever had possessed him this morning. Pointing his broom downwards, he sped into a dive. Wind whistled in his ears and he squinted his eyes, pushing the broom faster as he pushed a certain pair of hazel eyes from his mind. The ground hurtled towards him, and his breath was coming faster and harder. He envisioned a snitch hovering just inches from the ground. “Come on.” he grunted, urging himself faster. He was less than ten feet from the ground, angled to collide into the grass with a spectacular crash. He stretched his hand out. Almost there… As the ground flew at his face he pulled up sharply, brushing his nose on a long piece of grass as he turned his broom almost vertically and flew back up, slowing into an easy cruise. His heart was pounding in his ears, his breathing rough and his eyes watery, but in his hand he clutched a patch of grass pulled from the field. Regulus grinned to himself.
That was the… “Best Wronski feint I’ve ever seen!” a voice said from behind him. Regulus fell off his broom.