Harry Potter One Shots

4. Every Kind of Courage || Regulus Black

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Malfoy Manor was never a place one should search for to seek comfort. With the dim halls, eerie silence, and the portraits of Malfoys whose eyes followed you wherever you went, any sort of privacy or ease was nearly impossible to achieve. Then again, my current situation wasn't exactly made for comfort, either.

I lifted the left sleeve of my jacket, running my thumb over the inked skull on my skin to remind myself of where my priorities lie. I didn't know what time it was, but it barely mattered — my arm should burn when the time comes.

After walking an endless hallway, I decided to open a door at random. It had no portrait of a deceased Malfoy by its side so hopefully it was empty. I turned the doorknob and swung the door open, stepping inside. The air was thick. Wooden panels creaked under my feet and I raised my eyebrows. This was the only room in the manor that wasn't carpeted.

Looking back on both sides of the hallway, I ensured that nobody was nearby and I closed the door, casting a Silencio as I studied the room. The paint on the dark grey walls were slightly peeling, the ceiling was strangely free of any spider webs, and the only piece of furniture was a fraying black couch at the left side of the room that looked as if mice had been residing in it for years. I shook my head and headed for the gold-paneled window — the only part of the room that wasn't a complete eyesore — and a smile uncontrollably lifted my lips when I saw the Malfoy garden, the view impeccable from where I stood.

"What..." a deep voice drawled out, making me whirl around.

I glared at Severus as he hovered by the doorframe, dark and looming.

"...are you doing here?"

I bared my teeth. "Do you know you take too long to finish your sentences?"

He blinked, clearly unamused and he entered the room, his black clothes billowing along with his movements. The door shut with a slightly loud bang and I flinched.

"Quiet, Severus," I hissed. "He might hear us." Not that it matters. We'll probably be dead by the end of the night anyway.

Severus slowly stepped towards the ragged couch and eyed it with disdain. "I hope you're not here to hide like you so frequently used to do."

I sighed, recalling my cowardly tendencies as a young student before placing my hands on my hips and arching an eyebrow at him.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you used to do the same thing?" I snapped, earning me a scowl from him. "And if I remember correctly, I was the first one to come out of the cupboard."

. . .

24 Years Ago — 1973 — Second Year

I've been chastised countless of times for being too timid, for hiding immediately when things became potentially disastrous. I knew almost every corner of Hogwarts, which corridors were crowded at what time, the closest hiding spots from every area of the castle, even the faculty's daily routine — all mapped out in my head in perfect detail.

Although my dormmates ridiculed me for it, I took comfort in the knowledge that should anybody let loose a hundred Cornish Pixies or Murtlaps into the halls, I could easily access the closest safe haven because I planned ahead of time.

And it just so happened that Potter and his friends set loose a swarm of dragonflies into the Great Hall at today's breakfast. The glowing neon blue insects were charmed to sting whoever they came into contact with, and I wasted no time sprinting out of the room and into the closest broom cupboard two corridors down the hall. A few dragonflies flitted overhead, their wings buzzing by my ear and I upped my pace, pushing past two conversing Ravenclaws whom the dragonflies settled on instead. Hearing them screech, I snickered and sighed in relief when I reached the cupboard, wrenching the door open and slipping inside.