The Story of Regulus Black - Years 1-4

XXV. The Dating Coach

The entire Great Hall was full of exhausted students. The teachers were all absolutely baffled as to why the entire student body had great big bags under their eyes, and none of them seemed to be able to come to a reasonable conclusion. Half of the Great Hall was sleeping on their breakfast, and the other half was chugging mug after mug of black coffee.

Regulus had his arms crossed on the table, and his face was buried in the crook of his elbow. He was snoozing away, in an odd half-asleep state where he was conscious of what was going on around him, but he couldn't seem to move his body; it was as though his body were asleep but his mind were wide awake.

"Hey, Reg, we - we gotta go," Barty said, yawning halfway through.

He shook Regulus's shoulders, and Regulus groaned. He lifted his hand and waved off Barty's hand, letting out an inaudible grunt.

"Reg, come on," Barty grabbed Regulus's arm and tugged him up off of the bench.

Regulus fell backwards off of the bench from the force of Barty's tug, hitting the stone floor with a loud THUMP! Several people in the Great Hall looked over at the boy sprawled out across the ground, though none of them commented on it; they all knew exactly how he felt.

Their first class of the term was - once again - Potions with Gryffindor. The students had all spent so long sitting in their Potions seats from last term, that they didn't even think about sitting anywhere else. For this reason, Barty and Regulus walked into the classroom expecting to sit at their little four-person desk.

However, they were shocked to see that the layout of the classroom was entirely different.

Instead of the long tables that lined the room horizontally, there were now large square tables. Barty and Regulus looked at one another, and then looked at the tables around them. There were only two tables that weren't occupied, and each of them only had one seat available.

There was a desk that held Evan Rosier, Theodore Travers, and Phoebe Scott, and a desk that held Deacon Ackland, Francesco Anderson, and Benjamin Stone.

"I call that table," Barty said quickly, pointing to the Slytherin table.

Regulus groaned. "Seriously?"

"Sorry Reg," and he rushed off to the table.

Regulus groaned again and, very reluctantly, made his way towards the table which held the three Gryffindor second years. They all ceased in their conversation the second that Regulus came within ear shot, and Francesco and Benji both shot Regulus a very fiery glare. Regulus shot one right back, and he dropped his book bag onto the flagstone floor beneath him.

"What are you doing here?" Francesco asked in a cold tone, narrowing his eyes at Regulus.

"I have this class too, you dolt," Regulus responded, and he sat heavily upon the last remaining stool at the table.

"I mean here, stupid," Francesco retorted, and he gestured to the table that the four boys were sharing.

"In case you didn't notice, it's the only bloody table left," Regulus said, and he motioned 'round the room at the full tables.

"Well then kick someone out of another one," Francesco replied.

"Oh, yeah, because you three are just so wonderful to be around, anyone would give up their spot to sit with the great Gryffindor boys," Regulus rolled his eyes and folded his arms on the table, burying his face into them.

"Yeah because everyone is just lining up to sit next to Regulus bloody Black," Francesco said through clenched teeth.

Regulus lifted his head and stared directly into the eyes of Francesco Anderson. "My ego isn't over the ruddy moon, I know people don't want to sit next to me."