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Regulus Black sat on a rock beneath a tree overlooking the Shrieking Shack, a bottle of butterbeer and a thick sandwich from the Three Broomsticks at his knee and a small bag from Honeyduke's beside it. He chewed absently on a bit of the sandwich and stared at the Shack, lost in thought as he ate. 

The Dark Mark on his wrist had stung no more than an hour before, but he'd chosen not to go. He didn't have the stomach for it, not today. Not on his one day away from the castle, away from the Slytherin common room, away from having to pretend to be something he wasn't. At first, he'd felt a keen sense of wild abandon for refusing to answer Voldemort's call, but then a sort of deep-set panic had begun flooding him and now he felt sort of sick, worrying and half waiting for Greyback to appear and just chomp the life right out of him in punishment. 

Bloody hell, why am I even worried about that? Regulus wondered. Do me a favor if he did. At least I wouldn't have to fake being a Death Eater anymore.

Now here he was, staring at the Shrieking Shack, wishing that he could see his brother and James Potter and see what they thought of him resisting the call. Would they call him foolish, or would they think him brave? He imagined Sirius criticizing him, calling him a prat for whatever reason Sirius could come up with today for him to call him one. Surely Sirius would find a way to twist Regulus's actions into a bad thing. He always did. James, though, might call him brave or he might be upset Regulus didn't go to find out what Voldemort was up to, to pass information along to the Order of the Phoenix... After all, that was his main function in the group, wasn't it? What good was he if he didn't have any information for them?

He sighed and took another bite from his sandwich, forcing himself to chew it and swallow it despite the murky ache that had settled itself into his belly.

There was a crack of a branch behind him and Regulus leaped to his feet, drawing his wand as he did, knocking over his bottle of butterbeer. 

A girl stepped out from the trees. She was wearing her Hogwarts uniform with the blue and bronze Ravenclaw tie about her neck. She looked startled by Regulus's wand raised up and she stopped mid-step, holding up her one free hand - in the other, she held some pumpkin juice and a bag from Quality Quidditch Supplies. 

"Oh... Sorry," Regulus said, realizing he recognized her. She was one of the chasers on the Ravenclaw team, a slightly plump framed girl with thick, dark curly hair and warm brownish-tan skin. "I thought -- I don't know what I thought. Sorry." Regulus lowered his wand, flicked his wrist to clear away his spilled butterbeer from the rock where he'd been sitting, and shoved it into his emerald green Slytherin jumper.

"It's alright," the girl lowered her hands. "I didn't mean to startle you." She had a pretty accent, Regulus noticed off handedly - though he couldn't quite place what exotic place it might be from. It certainly wasn't British. 

Regulus picked up his sandwich, stuffed it into his Honeyduke's bag.

"Are you leaving?" the girl asked.

"Yeah," Regulus replied.

"You don't have to on account of me...Usually there's nobody out this way. I was just going to sit and read a bit..."

"Yeah, there's usually not anybody," Regulus agreed. "I was just here to think, but I've thought now, so I'll let you have at it."

"You can think while I read," the girl shrugged. Then, "You're Regulus, right? Regulus Black? You're on the Slytherin Quidditch team, yeah?"

"Yeah," Regulus said. Suddenly he felt profoundly guilty and self-absorbed because he realized that despite knowing she was on Ravenclaw's team, he had no idea what her name was. He flushed. "You're a chaser for Ravenclaw."

The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix - Part OneDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora