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Regulus can't pretend he's ignoring Amos's glare.
He's been trying his best to avoid eye contact with... well, everyone in the Great Hall, but mostly just the people that he knows has it out for him now. This list has grown exponentially since he began going out with Lyra North, and he would have to be blind not to see the correlation there.
The "we hate Regulus Black!" club, as of right now, includes: Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch, Jr., for obvious reasons; Emmeline Vance, because she's friends with Lyra and agrees with Pandora's notion that Regulus is no good for her; Amos Diggory, because he fancied Lyra for years (which is unfair; it isn't Regulus's fault Diggory looks like a thumb and Lyra has good taste); maybe Dorcas Meadowes, Regulus can't tell where he stands with her; and, if you really want to hit home, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew. But Regulus likes to forget they exist as best he can.
Anyway, none of these people would bother him on a usual basis. The only reason he's acknowledging them now is because most of them have all been crammed together into one room; it's like Regulus's worst nightmare.
Even still, Apparation lessons are perhaps the most useful thing Regulus has taken in all his time at Hogwarts. He decided swiftly.
Velvet Miniluck, the unfortunate Ministry worker hand-picked to instruct classes over the course of the past few weeks, is a spry old man with a head so bald it reflects the sun. He's nice enough, and a good teacher, too—and it isn't his fault nobody can get the grasp on Apparating.
Maybe if Amos hadn't been so busy glaring daggers in Regulus and Lyra's direction, he wouldn't have splinched on his first attempt—but he was, so he did, and both Lyra and Regulus had to stifle some laughs when he began to wail about his missing fingernail.
"Such an oaf," Lyra whispers, as Velvet helps Amos and Benjy Fenwick scour the floor for the rest of Amos's nail. "How do you splinch on your very first go?"
"You nearly did," he reminds her, smiling at the thought of her stumbling around aimlessly, until she popped out of existence in one place and appeared out of nowhere in the next. "I thought you were friends with the Diggory bloke, anyway. Something change?"
She twists her lips mischievously. "I met you, and I came to realise that I only really have space for one idiot in my life."
He shoulders her playfully, and she darts away, leaving a laugh in her wake. Regulus smiles and follows her with his eyes, knowing she'll come back to him sooner or later. He doesn't give a damn about who's watching, at first, but then there is a shiver trailing down his neck and his smile shifts to a frown. He turns around.
Barty and Evan are regarding him through the crowd of seventh years. Evan looks downright murderous, with his ice blue eyes and clenched jaw. Barty catches Regulus's eye first and gives him the slightest shake of his head; almost uncertainly, like a warning of some kind. Against what, he isn't sure—could be Lyra, could be Evan, could be his general life decisions.
