Dumbledore
James and Remus never told Sirius what happened--or at least Regulus doesn’t think they did. He had begun to feel a little embarrassed of how passionately he had accused Lupin, especially considering how now that he looked at the facts it seemed very unlikely to have been Lupin after all. The facts didn't add up, nor the timing, not to mention how Remus treats Sirius like an angel descended to earth. That still left the burning question, though: who had poisoned his brother?
James and Regulus discussed it often, during their French lessons or in the passing moments they had when they would happen to have Quidditch practices at the same time, and could exchange a few words before being dragged back to their teams. James was clueless as well, although Regulus privately thought he had a few suspicions that he wasn't willing to share. He stayed true to his promise, though, and never seemed to fail in interest or want to give up. Regulus didn't know how to thank him, after the hours they spent analyzing options and lying out the scene of the crime and all the suspects around. The words caught in his throat, always manifesting themselves in a nonchalant nod.
The first Wednesday back Regulus had been unsure whether he should go to their usual classroom for French lessons, unsure if James would even show up. They hadn't discussed it, and Regulus had just assumed they would go on as normal, until it was half an hour till on Wednesday afternoon and he was panicking in his room. Did James want lessons anymore? His French was improving rapidly, maybe he had decided he was good enough for now and didn't need Regulus’s assistance. If Regulus went, and James didn't show, the embarrassment would have been too much to handle, especially if he ran into James or any of his friends. If he didn't go, and stood James up…well that would be even worse. Evan walked into the room and snorted at Regulus’s worried pacing, telling him to go do whatever poofy thing he was off to anyway and stop whining. Regulus nearly punched him, but settled for a stinging curse to his rear. Pandora would be helpful right now, but she was sitting an exam for some advanced Divination class that Regulus was convinced was pure rubbish. He checked the clock worriedly, James would hypothetically be arriving at the classroom in five minutes.
“Screw it” he muttered. He walked out the door.
When Regulus walked into the familiar classroom he saw James sitting casually on the desk, kicking his legs with a grin on his face.
“C’est bien de te montrer” he said. Nice of you to show up.
Regulus couldn't stop the smile spreading across his features.
“Still gotta work on that accent, Potter. You’re mangling your vowels almost as much as you mangle that hair of yours.”
James’s hand flew to his head with an offended gasp. “My hair is effortless, I'll have you know. Don't pretend you don't like it.”
Regulus rolled his eyes, turning away before James could see how red his face was. He cleared his throat, pointing his wand towards the board where a long sentence in French appeared to etch itself out.
“Translate” he said to James, raising his eyebrows haughtily. James’s eyes sparkled teasingly.
“Yes sir”
Regulus felt himself blush again. He suddenly was very aware of what a wonderful day it was, really.
______________________
“This is for Regulus Black?” a rather short first year girl said to Regulus nervously as he made his way to Herbology one October morning, nearly two months into his second year of Hogwarts. Regulus took the note she held out, frowning.
“That's me,” he said distractedly. “Thanks.” The girl scurried away without a word.
To Mr. Regulus Black, Slytherin Tower the note read, in a thin slanting hand Regulus didn't recognize. He flipped it open curiously.
Please come to my office, in the Headmaster’s tower, at five pm tonight, sharp. The password is chocolate frogs.
Best,
Albus Dumbledore
Regulus stared at the note for a moment, uncomprehending. What would Albus Dumbledore want with him? The auburn haired headmaster had not seemed to warm to Regulus since his first day of Hogwarts, and Regulus had done his best to avoid him. Something in his pale eyes seemed to penetrate right through Regulus’s soul, leaving him feeling bare and exposed. A slight chill traveled down his spine, and he pocketed the note quickly. The portraits on the wall seemed to follow him with their lifelike eyes as he made his way back to the Slytherin dorms, wondering what Albus Dumbledore wanted with him.
“The headmaster?” Barty asked, sounding shocked. “What does Dumbledore want with you?”
“I don't bloody know” Regulus said, reading the note again with exasperation. “But I have to come to his office in less than fifteen minutes.”
Barty squinted at him from where he was lounging on his bed, looking as if Regulus was headed to a funeral and not a meeting with their headmaster.
“I’ve heard Dumbledore is a bit of a loon, but a powerful one. Watch yourself, with him.”
“Yeah, I know. My family hates him, I’m pretty sure.” Walburga and Orion had gone on several rants about the “muggle loving” and “power scheming” headmaster. It hadn't exactly warmed Regulus to Dumbledore, but then again his parents considered Lord Voldemort to be a downright genius. Regulus still felt a shudder of disdain at the memory of the strange man, and his eerie, high pitched voice.
“My parents hate him too, and I’m pretty sure my parents hate your parents.” Barty mused. Regulus chuckled.
“Most people do,” he said. “They aren't exactly charming.”
“My dad actually told me to stay away from you, y’know.” said Barty, balling up the exploding snap game he was fiddling with. “Apparently you’re a ‘bad influence.’”
“Am I?” Regulus asked, intrigued. He sat down on the bed next to Barty. “What’d they say?”
“Just that you’re some dark magic obsessed creep, and that I should stay away from your family as a general.” Barty said casually, propping his chin up with his hand. Regulus wasn't too surprised.
“I mean, they aren't wrong.”
“Nah. My dad hates nearly everyone, though. He's convinced the whole ministry is out to get him.”
Barty said these words lightly, but Regulus could see the way his jaw tightened, and how he refused to meet Regulus’s gaze. Barty’s family wasn't something he talked about a lot, this must have been the third time in nearly one and a half years that he had brought them up. Regulus respected it, and didn't push. He could understand not wanting to talk about your parents. Regulus let them sit there in silence for a few moments, Barty staring furiously at the wall ahead, fingers clenching slightly.
“What’d you say to that?” he said eventually, attempting to lighten the mood.
“What?”
“What’d you say to your parents when they said to stay away from me?”
Barty grinned, some of the tension dissolving from his face. Regulus didn't miss the faint sheen he blinked away from his eyes.
“I told them to suck it.” Barty said simply. Regulus let out a burst of laughter.
“You didn't.”
“What, you don't think I could?”
“No, I think you would do just about anything, provided it was stupid enough.”
“You git!”
Barty nearly tackled him, but Regulus leapt up quickly, laughing.
“Nice try” he said to the blonde boy primly. “I have to be getting to my meeting with the headmaster now.”
Barty glared at him, his hair disheveled. “Well aren't you posh”
“Don't be jealous, '' Regulus trilled as he slipped out the door. He didn't hear Barty’s reply, savoring having the last word. He was still laughing to himself as he left Slytherin tower, the concrete door melting back into the wall behind him, but the warm feeling began to fade. The closer to Dumbledore’s office he got, the more nervous he felt, an inexplicable feeling of dread washing over him. He checked a clock hanging on the wall by the foot of the Headmaster's tower. The time read 4:55 pm.
“Come on, Reg” he breathed, shaking out his hands slightly and trying to steel himself. He slowly inhaled, focusing to freeze over his shaking limbs until they stilled, and the nerves disappeared in the numbness. A stone gargoyle, hideously ugly, stood at the entrance, staring down at Regulus. Its stone face was disfigured in a snarling expression, lips curled back to reveal teeth the size of Regulus’s fingers.
“Chocolate frogs' ' Regulus said uncertainly to the gargoyle. For a moment, nothing happened, but then the gargoyle’s beastly face bent towards him in a nod, and it slid backwards, revealing a mahogany door. Regulus pushed on it slightly, and it swung open, already unlocked. His heart was beating rather fast as he peered his head into the office, lit with warm golden light and papered with a dusty brown wallpaper.
“Come in, Regulus.” said a familiar voice from around the door. Regulus forced himself not to jump. He glanced behind him one more time, and straightened his robes.
“Hello, sir” he said with his best attempt at confidence, striding into the office without a look back.