Mystery of Love , Jegulus

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1 - ᴍʀ ʙɪɴɢʟᴇʏ'ꜱ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴜꜱ

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝟏𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟐
╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

As his eyes were occupied with the floating candles in the "night sky", his name was called, causing him to snap back into reality, the shout lending him the knowledge of where he now stood, in the Great Hall of Hogwarts.

"Black, Regulus!" Professor McGonagall yelled as she held the scroll in her hands, allowing her eyes to peer over to the Gryffindor table for a moment before landing back on the young Black standing before her.

"Another Black, aye?" The old wrinkly hat said the moment he was placed on Regulus' head, the latter looking up at the brim of the hat, "Where to put you..." He continuously stalled, causing Regulus to bite his lip in anticipation.

"Please, continue" He whispered, looking down as his feet swayed on the old stool, the tips of his shoes only just barely grazing the concrete ground.

"You would do so well in Gryffindor, as you have the perfect traits of one"

"No, anything but that" He begged, praying to Merlin to be placed into Slytherin out of fear of disappointing his parents. He didn't want to experience the same fate as his brother, especially after watching them direct their wicked wands at him, followed by the deafening sound of Sirius' crying.

"Alright, then I'll have to go..." the old hat mumbled.

Long silence.

Everyone was on the edge of their seats as they awaited the words of the ancient hat.

"SLYTHERIN!" It yelled. His peers suddenly erupted into applause.

He stood from the stool, taking a deep breath before striding towards the Slytherin table. He placed himself at the very end of the table, away from all the curious eyes of his house. He rested his chin on his palm as he awaited for the Professor to continue with the sorting ceremony.

"Crouch, Bartemius..." Her eyes squinted for a split second, before stammering a quick follow up, "Junior!" Regulus watched as a tall boy emerged from the crowd of first years. He smiled as he jogged up to the stool, sitting down abruptly as he beamed up at the old hat.

It didn't take long at all for him to be sorted into Slytherin. He joyously stood from the chair before running over to his newfound house. He made his way to the end of the table, sitting down opposite to Regulus. He looked around as he took in everything, grinning from ear to ear as he sighed in content.

Evan now, as Regulus was nowhere near his Mother, he still felt the need to keep a good posture and manners. So, swallowing every ounce of his pride, he outstretched his hand across the table, introducing himself to the giddy boy.

"Hello," He spoke, catching his attention. "I'm Regulus. It's Bartemius, isn't it?"

"Hi," The boy's large grin slightly faltered as he shook his hand. "Just call me Barty. I hate having the same name as my dad"

"Noted."

The two boys exchanged words for a good while before another boy was suddenly sorted into their house. The two looked over to find a small, stern boy making his way to the end of the table. He sat himself down next to Regulus, before shuffling his body a few inches further from him.

They took notice of the boy's blonde hair, slicked back with such heavy gel. Similar to Regulus' in a way. But what caught his eye were the pearly white streaks of colour on the underside of his hair. They looked so unnatural, but so real at the same time.