Jegulus: the escaping of a broken home

"This is my spot, Potter."

I WAS NOT PLANNING ON MOVING THIS FAST BUT YEAH, ENJOY ALL THE JEGULUS. this is why I don't do slow burn smh

CW! Slightly homophobic ideas

The goblet flew out of McGonagall's firm grip, flying in an arch over multiple students' heads, drops spattering on said students and the floor. Finally, the goblet elected its target and hit Mulciber smack in the face. Water cascaded down the planes of his face, dripping from his chin and nose. The hall went dead silent as every student halted their consumption of their lunch to watch the spectacle before them. One could hear a pin drop.

McGonagall sat there, seemingly stunned for a second, before her nostrils flared and a seething look of anger made its way onto her sharp-featured face. She stood up, her chair making a harsh scraping sound against the stone tiles and successfully breaking the silence. Regulus cringed at the penetrating sound.

"MISTER BLACK!" McGonagall positively shrieked, "MY OFFICE, NOW!"

Barty, who had frozen mid-sentence, closed his mouth, but his expression of surprise did not relent. Barty glanced at McGonagall nervously, then gave Regulus a sympathetic look that clearly wished him good luck, because he was going to need it.

Regulus nodded, then followed McGonagall, keeping a neutral expression on his face. He kept his head down.

The hall was still relatively hushed, but a few people were whispering about what was going on.

"What happened? I didn't see it."
"He cast a Disarming spell at Professor McGonagall!"
"What?"

"What do you think will happen?"

"Do you think they'll finally use Filch's chains?"

"Was it dark magic?"
"Course not Sam, what, are you mad??"
"Well, he is a Slytherin, I wouldn't exactly put it past him!"
"True, but still, that would be crazy."

"He's getting expelled for sure."

...

McGonagall took a seat.

"Sit, please," she said in a deadly calm voice that sent shivers through the Slytherin. Regulus sat immediately. She stared at him through her glasses. Her gaze was piercing, and Regulus looked away.

"What's troubling you, Mister Black?"

Regulus looked up. "Nothing, Professor."

"Are you certain?" she inquired further, scrutinizing him openly.

"Fairly certain, yes," Regulus answered politely.

"Really? Then what might you dream up as your excuse for this impropriety?" Her gaze hardened as she stared him down.

Regulus did not answer.

"Are you feeling unwell, Mister Black?" she inquired suddenly. He looked up, bemused.

"Er . . . no . . ."

"Is everything alright at home?"

His heart leapt into his throat; this was his chance. Should he tell her? But wait, his mother. She might not always treat him nicely, but she cared for him. He couldn't let her down. But maybe a little time away couldn't hurt... no, Regulus could already imagine the foreboding consequences. Besides, he was going to work for the Dark Lord. This was his dream, right?

Suddenly, a vivid image of Potter appeared, and whatwherethehelldidthatcomefrom?

"No!" He realized his surroundings. "Oh, wait, yes, I mean, yes, yeah, everything is fine. Great, even!" He shrugged. "Sorry, I misunderstood the question for a bit. But yeah, um, I'm great, why would I not be?"