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Chapter 26 Second Year Routine 
Friday 7th September 1973 A week

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into the new school year, 
Reckless Black had already made 

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sure to establish himself as one
of the top students in his year.

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Once again, the hours spent 
reading over the summer had paid

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off, allowing him to keep up 
with a quicker pace of second 

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year coursework. 
Charms, Potions, Transsegration.

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Each subject was moving at a 
much faster clip compared to the

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previous year, but regularly AS 
welcomed the challenge. 

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He had already received homework
assignments in five subjects due

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by the following week. 
While some students looked 

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overwhelmed, poor Astrid nearly 
fainted upon seeing how many 

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chapters needed to be read for 
History of Magic. 

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Regulus took it in stride. 
Homework was a hassle, but there

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was something satisfying about 
proving himself, about showing 

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everyone he was worthy of the 
black name. 

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He made a point to stand out, 
ensuring that each professor 

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noticed him turning in his 
assignments early or asking 

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questions that delved beyond the
textbook. 

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It worked. 
Most of the teachers seemed to 

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take a liking to Regulus. 
He was everything they wanted in

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a model student, diligent, 
respectful, and ambitious. 

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In contrast, Barty's approach to
academics was more chaotic, 

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often challenging the teachers 
explanations, offering 

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alternative methods for spells, 
and generally pushing the 

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boundaries of what was 
considered appropriate in the 

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classroom. 
His boldness had already landed 

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him in detention after just a 
week. 

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Mcgonigal had deemed one of his 
suggestions for improving A 

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Transfiguration spell a bit too 
audacious. 

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Hogwarts itself is, just as 
regulars had remembered, 

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familiar corridors, enchanted 
suites of suits of armour and 

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common rooms that offered refuge
from the outside world. 

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The constancy of the door was a 
welcome change from the 

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tumultuous summer, filled with 
tense conversations and unspoken

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expectations at home. 
In some ways, the castle felt 

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like a sanctuary, a place where 
it could escape the weight of 

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the Black family name, even if 
only temporarily. 

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Despite being back at the same 
school, the distance between 

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Regulars and his brother Sirius 
seemed greater than ever. 

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The only time he saw Sirius was 
in the Great Hall during meals, 

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but even then it felt like they 
were in separate worlds. 

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Regulars would often catch 
himself staring across the room 

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at the Gryffindor table, hoping 
that one day Sirius's gaze would

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meet his. 
But day after day, he was left 

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disappointed. 
Sirius didn't even glance in his

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direction, as if deliberately 
avoiding him. 

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There were moments when regulars
considered telling Barty about 

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the strained exchange he had had
with his parents just before 

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returning to school, the 
unspoken demands placed upon 

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him, the warnings about Sirius. 
But the right moment never 

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seemed to come. 
And besides, Barty had his own 

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problems to deal with, suggests 
his ever growing list of 

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detentions. 
With party serving detention, 

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Regulus found himself with a 
rare free evening. 

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After finishing his Charms 
homework, he decided to head out

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to the Quidditch pitch. 
The teams hadn't started 

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practices yet, so the field was 
likely to be empty. 

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Flying always helped clear his 
mind, and he had finally decided

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upon trying out for the team. 
Necesa had already told him that

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he was good, so it would be a 
waste if he didn't at least try,

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right? 
Sure, maybe he hadn't told his 

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parents about his plans yet, but
he wasn't even on the team yet, 

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so there really wasn't anything 
to say. 

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Grabbing his broom, Regulars 
pulled on his warm practice 

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shirt. 
It was one of the few casual 

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pieces of clothing he owned. 
Most of his wardrobe consisted 

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of tailored robes and formal 
wear. 

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As he made his way across the 
grounds, the sun was setting, 

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casting the last of its golden 
light over the grass. 

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The temperature was dropping, a 
hint of autumn chill in the air.

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When he arrived at the pitch, he
was surprised to find it already

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occupied. 
A boy in a Slytherin sweater had

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just landed near the centre, his
broomstick resting casually over

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his shoulder. 
Regulus was about to turn back, 

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preferring to avoid 
conversation, but the boy 

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noticed him first. 
Boy, I'm nearly finished if 

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you're the pitch to yourself. 
The boy called out, his accent 

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thick and unmistakably Scottish.
He had a broad, athletic build 

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and seemed entirely at ease. 
Unlike most other students, he 

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would have been intimidated by 
an unexpected encounter. 

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Regulars managed a polite half 
smile as he walked closer. 

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Now that he could see the boy's 
face, he recognised him from 

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around the common room. 
He was one of Robustan's 

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friends, a fourth year if 
Regulars were remembered 

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correctly. 
Cheers. 

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Regulus replied, hoping to keep 
the exchange brief, but the boy 

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didn't seem in a hurry to leave.
You're Regulus, right? 

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He asked, extending A gloved 
hand. 

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He was dressed in Slytherin 
curded gear, which most likely 

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meant that he was on the team 
the previous year. 

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And you're? 
Regulus chilled off, realising 

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that he didn't actually know the
boy's name. 

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It was a rare moment of 
uncertainty, but the boy didn't 

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seem bothered. 
Edmund. 

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He said with an easy grin. 
No worries, if you didn't know, 

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there's too many of us to keep 
track of. 

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Edmund's relaxed demeanour and 
thick Scottish accents had him 

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apart from the other Slytherins,
who were often more stiff and 

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spoke with a posh English 
accent. 

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You're friends with Robustan, 
right? 

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Regulars asked, feeling slightly
embarrassed. 

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It seemed like people knew who 
he was more after than he knew 

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them. 
If you say so. 

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Edmund replied with a shrug, 
leaving it open to 

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interpretation. 
So, will you be trying out for 

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the team? 
I think so, or I mean, yes. 

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Regulars answered, feeling a bit
more resolute as the words left 

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his mouth. 
Good, the old team was getting 

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boring. 
Edmund said with a teasing 

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smile. 
He swung his broom over his 

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shoulder, preparing to leave. 
I'd say good luck, but you'll 

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need more than that where the 
new captain's going to be extra 

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harsh this year. 
Who's the captain? 

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Regulars asked, and not forming 
in his stomach as he realized he

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hadn't bothered to find out. 
Edmund was already walking away,

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but he called back over his 
shoulder. 

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Your cousin mate, Necesa. 
Regulars felt a jolt of shock. 

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When you learned that Necesa was
an acquitted captain. 

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It made sense, of course. 
She was one of the best players 

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in the school, not just 
Slytherin. 

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Still, the news came as a 
surprise. 

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Hack, would he not have known? 
Then again, after the failed 

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engagement, his parents 
expressly forbidden him from 

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visiting his cousins, so there 
hadn't really been a chance to 

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talk to his sister about it. 
With that in mind, Wriggler 

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studied his broom and kicked off
from the damp grass, letting the

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rush of cold air against his 
face drown out any lingering 

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doubts. 
Later that evening, Barty 

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stumbled back into the 
dormitory, looking utterly 

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exhausted. 
His usually mischievous 

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expression had given away to 
dark circles under his eyes, and

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his ropes were crumpled as if he
had worn them for days. 

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He dropped onto his bed with a 
heavy thud, limbs sprawled out 

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in defeat as though he could 
barely support his own weight. 

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Mcgonagall's a nightmare, 
honestly. 

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He muttered, his voice muffled 
as he tugged off his sweater 

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with sluggish movements. 
Made me clean out the entire 

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classroom by myself without 
magic. 

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His tone was thick with 
indignation and a hint of 

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embarrassment, like he still 
couldn't believe he'd been 

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forced to do manual labour. 
But the conversation didn't last

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much longer. 
Within minutes he was sound 

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asleep, still sprawled on top of
his banquets, snoring softly. 

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The exhaustion had hit him hard.
Regulars lay awake though, 

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turning restlessly from one side
to the other as the hours jacked

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on. 
His mind refused to quiet, 

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thoughts racing from one thing 
to the next. 

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Quidditch practice neces his new
role as captain, serious as 

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persistent silence. 
Over the summer, his brother's 

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absence had carved A huddle 
space in his chest that he 

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hadn't quite managed to fill. 
Every time he closed his eyes, 

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he imagined Sirius's voice 
taunting him, or the familiar 

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look of disappointment in his 
mother's eyes whenever she spoke

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about her estranged eldest son. 
He peeked out from behind the 

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heavy velvet curtains around his
bed now and then, but Barty was 

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still sound asleep each time. 
The occasional Creek of the 

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castles settling or the murmur 
of the shifting portrait in the 

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corridor outside did nothing to 
soothe him. 

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The only upside to his 
sleeplessness was that he knew 

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from experience that Astrid was 
probably awake too. 

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She often found herself in the 
common room at odd hours, as if 

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insomnia had become a part of 
her routine, just like it had 

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for him. 
Finally, after what felt like an

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eternity, regulars gave up on 
trying to fall asleep. 

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He quietly threw on a sweater, 
grabbed his wand from the 

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bedside table, and Tip showed 
past Barty and the other boys. 

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His footsteps echoed faintly off
the stone as he slipped out the 

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dormitory and into the dimly lit
corridor. 

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The familiar chill of the 
Slytherin dungeon settled into 

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his bones as he descended the 
stairs, reminding him that it 

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was nearly October and the 
warmth of summer was long gone. 

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As he reached the common room, 
the faint glow of the fire cast 

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dancing shadows across the 
walls, making the room appear 

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larger and emptier than usual. 
Sure enough, Astrid was there, 

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sitting on the carriage closest 
to the fireplace. 

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Her silhouette was outlined by 
the flickering flames, her hair 

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catching the light in a way that
made it seem almost golden. 

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She seemed lost, her thought, 
her gaze fixed on the glowing 

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embers and regulars, could see 
her fingers absentee, tracing 

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pattins on the armrest as if her
mind was far away. 

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He made his footsteps slight 
louder as he approached, hoping 

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to announce his presence without
startling her. 

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Astrich. 
He greeted softly. 

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Oh, hi regulars. 
She said, turning towards him 

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with a warm smile that didn't 
quite reach her eyes. 

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Her uniform was still perfectly 
in place despite the late hour, 

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and it struck regulars as odd 
that she hadn't changed into 

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something more comfortable. 
She looked almost as if she had 

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been waiting, that for what or 
whom he didn't know. 

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He returned her smile and 
settled onto the opposite couch,

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tucking his feet under a 
blanket. 

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The air was brisk, and despite 
the fire, the dungeons always 

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seemed to retain in perpetual 
chill. 

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How have you been? 
He asked, his voice low as 

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though he didn't want to disturb
the quiet atmosphere. 

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It's good to be back. 
He added after a moment's 

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hesitation, though as he spoke, 
memories of the summer crapped 

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back in, of 10s. 
Family meetings, cold silent 

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dinners, and his mother's 
constant assistance that he had 

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to be the perfect son. 
There was so much she could say,

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but little he actually wanted 
Astra to know. 

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I agree, it's nice to see 
everyone again. 

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Astrid said, her smile fading 
slightly as she glanced back 

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toward the fire. 
The summer felt like it lasted 

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forever. 
Yeah. 

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Wrigglers murmured. 
It did. 

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He watched her for a moment, 
noticing the faint shadows under

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her eyes, the slight slump of 
her shoulders that suggested she

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was just as tired as he was. 
I got your letter this summer. 

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Spain looked nice. 
He said, changing the topic, 

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hoping to dispel the sombre 
mood. 

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Astrid's expression softened and
she nodded. 

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It was. 
The beaches were beautiful, and 

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the weather was just perfect. 
It was nice to get away for a 

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bit, I bet. 
Regolus said, though his 

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thoughts were 1000 miles away, 
focused under a very different 

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kind of summer. 
His words hung in the air, both 

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of them seeming unsure of where 
to take the conversation next. 

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Just as Auster had opened her 
mouth to speak again, the sound 

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of approaching footsteps 
interrupted them, voices 

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drifting closer to the common 
room entrance. 

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It wasn't the hush tones of 
students sneaking back from a 

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late night escape heart 
escapade. 

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It was louder, more irritated. 
No emulsify you idiot, listen to

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me. 
The harsh, familiar voice of 

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Sarah Snape cut through the 
quiet, sharp with frustration. 

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Regulus froze. 
If Snape found him sitting there

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with Astrid, he would never hear
the end of it. 

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Snape had a knack for making 
every situation worse, and 

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Regulus knew he would twist this
into something it wasn't, 

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perhaps even make Astra think 
less of him in the process. 

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Without a second thought, he 
leaned forward, grasped Astra's 

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arm, and pulled her behind a 
thick stone pillar near the 

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fireplace. 
It was a tight squeeze, but both

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of them were small enough to fit
without much trouble. 

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He could feel Astra's startled 
gaze on him, her expression half

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bewildered and half annoyed. 
I know he's hiding something, I 

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just need to figure out what. 
Snape's voice was full of venom,

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and regulars could hear the echo
of his footsteps growing closer.

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Honesty, Snape let it go. 
Who cares about some mud blood? 

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Most of us. 
A different tone carried a hint 

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of exasperation. 
No, I'm close, Snape insisted. 

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I just need to read a few more 
books on Legilimacy and Lupin 

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won't be able to hide anything 
from me. 

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Regulus felt his stomach twist 
with anxiety. 

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Legitimacy. 
What did Snape want with that, 

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especially concerning Lupin? 
The entire situation reached of 

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danger, and Regulus wasn't about
to let Snape hurt one of his 

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brother's friends, but only 
because he helped Nazisa. 

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00:15:10,640 --> 00:15:15,600
Of course, not without doing 
something to intervene, but for 

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now he stayed hidden, holding 
his breath. 

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A Snape in multiple footsteps 
echoed away down the corridor, 

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their voices fading into a faint
murmur. 

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00:15:25,600 --> 00:15:28,960
He let go of Astrid's arm, 
suddenly realising that his grip

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had been too tight. 
His fingers had left faint 

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impressions on his skin, and she
rubbed her arm with a frown. 

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What was that about? 
She asked, her voice edged with 

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irritation, an unfamiliar tone 
from someone who was usually so 

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00:15:45,280 --> 00:15:49,920
calm and gentle. 
I'm sorry, I just. 

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Regulars began, but his mind was
racing too quickly to form a 

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coherent explanation. 
He knew Snape had a gwudge 

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against Lupin, but this sounded 
more serious than the usual 

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00:16:01,280 --> 00:16:04,880
petty rivalries Snape was 
talking about. 

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00:16:05,440 --> 00:16:07,600
I mean, I just didn't want to 
risk him seeing us. 

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00:16:08,040 --> 00:16:11,760
He lied, the half truth falling 
from his lips with more ease 

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than he expected. 
Really asked? 

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00:16:16,440 --> 00:16:19,520
His eyebrows rose in disbelief. 
That's it? 

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00:16:20,520 --> 00:16:23,600
She let out her scoff, her 
irritation still palpable. 

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00:16:24,600 --> 00:16:27,840
Good night, Regulus. 
Her words were clipped and 

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00:16:27,840 --> 00:16:31,120
colder than the dungeon air, and
before she before he could 

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00:16:31,120 --> 00:16:35,200
respond, she turned sharply on 
her heel and strode off towards 

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00:16:35,200 --> 00:16:40,120
the girl's dormitory. 
He watched her go, a mixture of 

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00:16:40,120 --> 00:16:42,320
confusion and guilt settling 
over him. 

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00:16:42,960 --> 00:16:46,800
He wasn't sure why he was so 
upset, why she was so upset, and

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00:16:46,800 --> 00:16:50,320
in the entire time he had known 
her, she had never come close to

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00:16:50,320 --> 00:16:54,040
raising her voice. 
For a moment he wondered if he 

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00:16:54,040 --> 00:16:57,360
had misjudged the situation, if 
perhaps there was more to 

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00:16:57,360 --> 00:16:59,840
Astrid's late night wanderings 
than she let on. 

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00:17:00,840 --> 00:17:03,920
But the thought quickly vanished
as his own worries came rushing 

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00:17:03,920 --> 00:17:06,520
back. 
Worries about Snape, and about 

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00:17:06,520 --> 00:17:09,200
the secrets it seemed to be 
piling up around him. 

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00:17:11,200 --> 00:17:14,520
Regulus stood by the fire for a 
long time after Astrid left, 

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00:17:15,040 --> 00:17:18,720
questions swirling in his mind 
and a creeping sense of dread 

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00:17:18,720 --> 00:17:22,720
settling over him. 
Whatever Snape was planning, it 

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00:17:22,720 --> 00:17:26,520
was far too dangerous to ignore.
And whatever was going on with 

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00:17:26,520 --> 00:17:29,880
Astrid, it seemed he was the 
last person she wanted to 

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00:17:29,880 --> 00:17:30,720
confide in.