INFERI (REGULUS BLACK)

71

"Hey, Fifa. How'd it go?" Sirius grinned, giving her a once-over. She looked fine, just drenched head to toe, and looked exhausted. Regulus wasn't in sight.

She made a feeble attempt to smile. "Fine, compared to how I thought it would go. You made lunch? I'm starving."

"Theia did, before she disappeared. Again," Sirius grinned bouncing his way into the kitchen. "There are some ... ham sandwiches. Hey, Shafiq. Hungry?"

Aoife followed him into the kitchen, taking a swig out of the bottle present on the table. The water soothed her parched throat.

"Hey Sirius, where's the sandwi- hi," Aoife greeted Shafiq. "And you are?"

Sirius threw a plate at her, which she caught with fumbling fingers. "Guess," the stranger said.

He was watching her with amusement, as if he knew something she didn't. Aoife stared at his vaguely familiar face, chewing her sandwich slowly. "Sirius, you got any juice?"

"It's in the fridge. Get it yourself," he grumbled. "Where's Reg?"

"Honestly," Aoife stopped chewing. "I really don't know."

Sirius turned to stare at her, his eyes popping out. "He's still with those corpses?"

"I ... guess?" she answered hesitantly, abandoning the plate. In everything that happened, she'd forgotten about Regulus.

Sirius rushed out of the room, probably to go find his brother himself or send a message to Belladonna or Aletheia. Aoife felt like an idiot. And quite guilty. She'd taken the opportunity to run away without even thinking about Regulus. She should've atleast asked Candy or whatever her name was about him.

"There's only orange juice. You want some?" Shafiq's voice broke her ruminating.

"I don't like orange juice," she answered harshly, taking a huge bite of her sandwich.

"I know, but I do," his voice smiled slightly. Aoife could hear the tinkle of orange juice being poured into a glass.

"Relax, I know Regulus," he said, taking a sip of his juice. "He's not that easy to get rid of."

Aoife turned to face him, incredulous. "Are you indirectly trying to tell me that you tried to kill him or something?"

Shafiq chuckled, muttering something inaudible under his breath. "Not really, no. It was an extracurricular activity."

Aoife gave him a look that clearly said, what the fuck? Shafiq chuckled again. "You really don't recognise me, Stinky?"

"What the - Maxwell?" Aoife stared at him incredulously. "Don't tell me you're also one of those batshit crazy wizards traipsing around in my life."

"Might be," he answered, giving her a cheeky smile. "Nice seeing you after so long, Stinky. Even though you haven't changed a bit."

"Well you look ... different," compared to the tall, gangly teenager she'd befriended, with his hair always too long and cheeky smile intact. Now he'd turned into handsome man, with a bit of a tan and excellently barbered hair. Wait, were those muscles?

"Where were you the last 5 years? Brooding in the gym?"

"Not exactly, no," he smiled. "I was in Brighton."

"Why the hell were you in Brighton?" Aoife asked. "No wait, I don't even wanna know. But you can't just go MIA on me for 5 years and then just come waltzing into my life. I'm mean, come on!"

"Give it a rest, Stinky," Shafiq said, taking a sip of his juice. "I'm back, and not going to leave this time."

"Give the nickname a rest, you git! It's been 5 years."

"But I wasn't the one who fell in cow shit." Shafiq smiled over the rim of his glass.

"It was goat shit, you idiot!"

"Shit's shit," he shrugged. "How McGonagall?"

"First you tell me about your disappearing act, Snowcone," Aoife retorted. "Then you get your answers."

"Give the nickname a rest, you tosspot," Shafiq grumbled. "It's been 5 years."

"It wasn't me who pelted Pastor Dean with snowballs just for a few pence," Aoife shrugged.

"It was for 5 quid, you idiot."

"But you still lost," she smirked. "And Dean made you clean the chapel for a week."

"Don't remind me," he groaned.

"Back to the disappearing act, idiot," Aoife reminded him. "Wait, why did Sirius call you Shafiq?"

"Well," he sighed. "It's technically my legal name. Sadly. I used my mum's maiden name for stuff outside the Wizarding World."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, after my mum died, my dad tried to introduce me into Pureblood circles; I presume you know what they are?"

"Yeah, Reg was telling me about it," she scrunched her nose. "Something like bigotry, isn't it?"

"Yeah, so many of the wizards were deranged and unhinged and whatnot, but their king is this man called Tom Riddle," he paused a bit. "He is quite ... fanatic about blood purity. Even Half-bloods were a blemish on Wizarding Society."

"Reg was telling me about him," Aoife interrupted. "He's the evil bloke, right?"

Shafiq's features relaxed into a small smile. "You could say that. I was 14 then," his face darkened a bit. "I was getting along well, even though I had no idea what I was getting into. I did find out, though. More than that, I found out something Riddle didn't want me to. You can guess what happened then."

"He tried to kill you."

"Tried. After my dad found out, he sent me to live with my mum's grandma. He knew they wouldn't look there, and even if they did, he'd cast a quite strong Blood ward there, to make sure they couldn't even attempt to attack me. My grandma was never able to get my name right. Always called me Maxwell. Then the whole village started calling me that."

"Bit you're still Snowcone."

"As long as you're Stinky."

"You're a git," she mumbled, tossing the plate into the sink. Luckily, it didn't break.

"Hey, Fia," Regulus walked in, a small smile playing on his lips. "All good?"

It dropped, however, on seeing Shafiq, still sipping his orange juice.

"We need to talk," he dragged Shafiq out by his sleeve.