Cursive Conundrums

i

Regulus was lazily sprawled across the dark fabric of a Slytherin armchair, a girl he didn't recognize straddling his hips, fumbling with the buttons on his fine pressed shirt.

He sighed and leaned his head back, closing his eyes blissfully.

Her long nails were trailing down his bare torso, sending shivers prickling down his spine.

Her other hand was pressed firmly up against his trousers, sliding up his thigh at a teasing slow speed.

She gasped as he grabbed hold of her wrist, moving it from his chest.

"Don't play with me, Love," he whispered, leaning in beside her ear.

He released his hold of her wrist, moving her off his hips as he stood, readjusting his clothing.

The stench of alcohol still hung heavily in the air, a result of the party that had ended hours before and he swore, knocking into a pile of cans as he made his way back to his dorm.

A hardly clothed brunette was fast asleep on the floor beside Barty Crouch's bunk.

"Get up," Regulus demanded, tapping her with the top of his foot, "honestly, this is just disgraceful."

She opened his eyes, obviously discombobulated, likely due to the state of intoxication she was currently occupying.

"Barty!" Regulus rolled his eyes, "you left one of your playthings out here."

Barty stuck his head out of his fourposter, "leave her." He said. "I have no use for her, probably has another round in her if you wanna try her out. I've got a prettier one in here...she's blonde."

Regulus gave a disgusted scoff as Barty disappeared behind the curtain again, the silencing charm encapsulating whatever was going on in his four poster.

"Come on," Regulus said gruffly, he bent down and picked up a discarded blouse, tossing it at the girl.

She pulled it over her head and stumbled to her feet.

"What's your house?" Regulus demanded.

"R—Ravenclaw," she slurred with a giggle, falling onto his chest, "you're pretty..."

He pushed her off and she promptly threw up on his shoes.

"Attractive." With a wave of his wand, the sick disappeared. He seized her arm and led her to the exit of the dorm, pushing her out and closing the door behind her.

He turned back and saw Crouch's four poster silently rocking back and forth.

"I'm not pissed enough for this," Regulus shook his head, the slight buzz he had earlier nearly completely eradicated.

He opened the door to the dorm, slamming it behind him as he retreated back to the common room.

The Ravenclaw girl was sitting against the portrait hole, her head leaned against the wall, a half empty Firewhiskey in hand.

"You're back!" She slurred, smiling up at him.

He plucked the drink out of her hand and set it down on a side table.

"Come on," he sighed, looking at her expectantly.

"Where are we going?" She struggled to her feet.

"I'm taking you back to your dorm," Regulus said shortly.

"No!" She giggled, "you can't! The party hasn't even started!"

He opened the portrait hole and strolled out into the corridor, the girl trailing along reluctantly a couple paces behind.

"What goes Z to A?" The portrait asked.

"Are you bloody serious?" Regulus groaned.

"We've got to answer the riddle," the girl hiccuped.

Regulus stepped forward and banged on the portrait hole with his fist, before turning around and walking away.

"Penelope!" A girls voiced echoed through the hall as Regulus turned the corner, "where have you been?"

It must've been around three in the morning, the halls were eerily empty and quiet, lacking even the sound of Mrs. Norris's paws against the stone floors.

Regulus took the long way back to the dungeons, hoping by the time he got back, Barty would've tired himself out and gone to bed.

He liked being alone—it was actually one of the only things he formed opinions on. When he was alone he didn't need to pretend, didn't need to choose his façade based on what others expected him to be.

Regulus barely knew who he was underneath everything anymore.

"Oi! Black!"

Regulus tensed, turning around quickly.

James Potter was striding down the corridor towards him.

"Potter." Regulus said coolly, "what ever are you doing?"

James didn't answer, his brown eyes locked on Regulus's guarded grey ones.

He stopped short in front of him, grabbed his wrist and yanked the sleeve of his shirt to his elbow, revealing the clear, white skin of his forearm.

James let out a relieved breath and Regulus was quick to pull his arm away.

"What do you think you're doing?" Regulus spat, pulling down his sleeve.

"Had to check," James said unapologetically with a shrug.

"Why do you care?" Regulus narrowed his eyes.

James stared at him, unwavering, "because you're worth something, Regulus."

"You don't know that." Regulus said plainly.

"I do." James said with so much conviction Regulus wanted to believe it was true.

"My brother told you I had it, didn't he?" Regulus asked unemotionally—unattached. "He thinks I'm one of them."

James nodded.

Regulus appreciated the straightforward honestly, he didn't understand 'sugarcoating'—a waste of time to convey the same information.

"Justified, as he will be right eventually," Regulus sighed, "why are you really here? Potter?"

"Don't do it." James said, "it'll crush him. Don't get the mark, we can get you out, just how we did for Sirius."

"That's where you're wrong," Regulus turned away, "they won't let me go as easily." 

James didn't follow after him.

He didn't argue.

"I'll get you out of there!" James called, "I will. I swear it."

Regulus glanced over his shoulder and for a moment his demeanor faltered, watching the hope on James's face.

"I hope you do, Potter." He meant it to be silent but it echoed in the empty hall.

James's grin grew tenfold.

"I promise, Regulus."

Regulus shook his head once more and turned away, descending the stairs to the dungeons.

Barty's bed had stopped moving and there was a lack of half-dressed girls in their dorms.

Regulus slipped into his nightclothes and pulled the curtains around his four-poster, laying on his back with an unsettled feeling in his thought.

"You're worth something, Regulus."