The Story of Regulus Black - Years 1-4

XXXIX. Professors Prewett One and Prewett Two

"And, you're sure they were out of the room?"

Voldemort closed his eyes, and his face contorted to one of irritation. "Yes. Do you think I'm an idiot, Greyback? Do you think I can't handle things by myself? Because, in case you haven't noticed, I'm the head of this whole operation. So, unless you want to find out what happens to those who question my authority, I suggest you shut your mouth." He snapped.

Fenrir Greyback eyed the Dark Lord in amusement, leaning in the door frame of the parlor of Lestrange Manor. "Relax, I was just making sure. Wouldn't want any... interference."

"Yes, well, I made sure that the children were out of the room when I briefed them. And, you're set? Everything is a go for the March full moon?"

"Yup. Everything is just peachy," Greyback said this with a note of humor in his tone, but the Dark Lord didn't laugh.

"Good. It's taken you long enough. What has it been, Greyback? Nearly three full moons?"

Greyback's face turned to one of stone. "We've been gathering recruits for the last two moons. We have to keep a very... low-profile."

"Keep a low-profile?" Questioned Voldemort.

"Well, yeah. We want this to work out, we're gonna need more'n twenty wolves, and if we attack every month, people'll catch on." Greyback said this as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And, you have more than twenty wolves now?"

A twisted smile crept onto Greyback's face, and he cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, yes. We have more'n seventy."

Deacon returned to his dorm room that night, experiencing a mixture of feelings. First and foremost, Deacon Ackland was absolutely positive that he didn't like Regulus Black romantically. Second of all, he was certain that Regulus Black didn't hold any romantic feelings for him, which he was glad for. Third, Regulus and Deacon were friends. No, not friends, acquaintances. They were acquaintances, and Deacon was quite happy about it.

However, he also knew that Regulus would probably still act mean to him in front of others. Deacon knew that Regulus was probably having a lot of second thoughts about everything. Because, as far as Deacon could tell, Regulus Black genuinely thought himself as the person that he made himself out to be to others. Deacon felt quite bad for him, really. From the things that he had heard about his family, he knew that they were absolutely awful. Sirius constantly talked about how awful his family was, and how awful his brother was in turn. So, Deacon knew that Regulus Black would probably have second thoughts. He would most definitely have second thoughts, really. Deacon just needed to be patient with the boy, and perhaps one day, they could truly be friends. Deacon was holding onto hope that they could. One day.

Deacon just hoped against hope that Regulus Black would keep his promise and not tell anyone about what had happened on the pitch.

He entered his dorm room quietly, for he had glanced at the clock in the common room and discovered that it was half past two in the morning. Not wanting to wake the others, he shut the door and padded silently towards his bed.

He could hear the level breathing of the other boys, so he knew that they were both probably asleep. With a sigh of relief, Deacon dropped down onto his bed and closed his eyes, relishing in the warmth that was slowly seeping into his body.

Suddenly, however, he felt the mattress at the foot of his bed dip, as though someone were sitting down. He opened his eyes and sat upright quickly.

Francesco Anderson was sitting on the end of his bed, looking at him curiously.

"Oh. Hi," Deacon said, and he pulled his knees towards him so that he was sitting cross-legged.