The Story of Regulus Black - Years 1-4

XVI. Flipendo

Regulus Black woke up the next morning completely and utterly exhausted. All that he really wanted to do was go back to ignore his classes and go back to sleep.

So that's what he did.

Regulus woke up mid-afternoon. His face was smooshed into his pillow, and he was laying with his stomach pressed against the mattress with his legs bent in different directions. He groaned and used his hands to raise himself up, blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness that was emanating from the lamp on his nightstand.

It took his eyes a few seconds to get used to the light, and for a brief moment he considered going back to sleep; it felt as though he had only been sleeping for a few minutes. However, he decided against it, and forced himself out of bed.

Regulus glanced 'round the room, stretching his arms up over his head and stifling a yawn. None of the other boys were there, and all of their book bags were gone.

Assuming that they were just up at breakfast, Regulus sat back on the edge of the bed and gave himself a few more minutes to reorient. He leisurely began changing into his uniform and robes, taking his time.

It was only when he saw that it was already halfway through their Defense Against the Dark Arts class that he started to panic.

He put on his shoes and grabbed his book bag as quickly as he could. Regulus sprinted as fast as he could towards the Defense classroom, and arrived there a few short minutes later.

Regulus pushed open the door and stepped inside quite abruptly, completely out of breath. Every single pair of eyes in the room turned to look at him, and Professor Bell - who appeared to be giving a lecture at the front of the room - looked at Regulus with an amused smile.

"Hello, Mr. Black. Nice of you to join us today," Evan Rosier snickered, and Regulus shot him a hard glare - though he could feel the flush creeping up his neck.

"Yeah - er - sorry," Regulus muttered, and he hastened to his seat.

Professor Bell stared at him in amusement for a few more seconds before turning back to the lecture he had been giving. It took Regulus a few moments to compose himself and get out his note-taking supplies, but he did it nonetheless.

"Are you ok?" Deacon Ackland whispered to Regulus, and Regulus looked over at him with confusion clear on his face. "I just mean - er - you weren't in Potions, and, well..." Deacon gestured to Regulus's uniform, which looked very messy indeed.

From the waist down, Regulus looked quite composed - he had on his shoes, plain black trousers, and a black belt 'round his waist. However, the rest of him didn't look nearly as clean-cut; his white oxford was only half-tucked into his trousers, the top three buttons were still undone, the sleeves were rolled up to the crooks of his elbows, and his Slytherin tie was draped loosely 'round his neck. He didn't even have on his vest or school robes.

Not to mention his hair, which was sticking up every-which-way.

"Oh, uh - er - yeah, just overslept," Regulus responded, and he turned forward once again.

Deacon looked at him in concern, "Did you not sleep well last night or something? Is everything alright?"

Regulus glanced over at Deacon, and he could see genuine concern etched into the features of the small boy's face. Regulus sighed and put his quill - which he had picked up to begin taking notes - down on the desk.

"No offense, but I really don't understand why you care. You know about my family, you know about all of the blood purity stuff that they - that I - believe in. I know that Francesco has probably been telling you not to talk to me since the beginning of the bloody year, so why do you care so much about me?" The truth was that this question had been nagging Regulus since after the incident in Defense.