The Story of Regulus Black - Years 1-4

XLV. Carson's Greatest Hits

It was their last night at Hogwarts.

Everyone in the Great Hall was absolutely ecstatic about going home. Everyone, that is, except for Regulus Black and Deacon Ackland.

Regulus didn't want to go home. He wanted to stay at Hogwarts with his friends, not go back to the dreary and lonely confines of Number 12. Along with this, Regulus still didn't know what he wanted to do about the Dark Lord. He was still having doubts. So, so many doubts. However, Regulus was fully aware that he still had to work for the Dark Lord. He couldn't back out without risking his life, and he didn't understand if he wanted to, either. Almost every single person that he knew was working for the Dark Lord, and they all seemed ecstatic about it. Merlin, Barty was doing it willingly! He didn't need to, he wasn't being forced by his parents, nothing. He was doing it completely of his own accord. So, if Barty could be that excited and willing, why couldn't Regulus?

They had had their end of the year meeting the night previous. At this meeting, all of the groups shared what they had learned about their assigned areas. They had learned quite a lot, really. And, as far as they all knew, the Dark Lord would be using all of this information. For, unless he had changed his plans and not told any of them, then he was still fully intent on taking Hogwarts castle. When he was going to carry through with this attack was the real question. They were entirely unsure when he was planning it, and they didn't even really know if the Dark Lord himself was sure of a time yet.

Deacon didn't want to go home for similar, yet completely different, reasons. He didn't want to go home to his family. More than anything, Deacon wished that he could just stay at the castle with his friends. Merlin, how much Deacon would miss his friends. He wished more than anything that he would be able to see them over the summer, but he knew how unlikely it was. His parents would never allow him to hang out with other wizards. Ever. So, Deacon was cherishing what little amount of time he had left with his friends.

The one good thing, Deacon thought, would be that he would be able to spend the time away from Fran, and therefore, his feelings for him. Perhaps it would be easier to come to terms with the fact that they could never be together if he wasn't actually with him. At least, he hoped that that would be how it went.

The desserts disappeared from the four house tables, and everyone took that as their cue to turn their attention to the headmaster. Surely enough, Dumbledore had just stepped up to the podium at the front of the room. "Sonorous," he muttered, pressing the tip of his wand against his throat.

"Ah, the house elves have truly outdone themselves this year, haven't they?" He started, and everyone murmured their agreement. Regulus Black was so full that he felt he might just burst at the seams. "Another year has come to a close! Time has seemed to be moving rather fast this year, hasn't it?" A smattering of agreeing voices. "Now, for what I'm sure you're all waiting for. The winner of the House Cup!

"In fourth place, with 1,173 points, we have Gryffindor!" Everyone looked pointedly at the marauders, who were all smiling sheepishly. Their little April Fools prank had been enough to take so many points that they had little-to-no chance of winning the cup that year. "In third place, with 1,332 points, we have Hufflepuff! In second place, with 1,401 points, Slytherin!" Groans and sighs of disappointment travelled up and down the Slytherin table. "And, in first place, with 1,418 points, and also the winners of this year's Quidditch Cup, we have Ravenclaw!"

The Ravenclaw table applauded rather heartily while the other three applauded more out of obligation than anything. Well, at least, the Slytherin table did.

"I'm sure you're all absolutely exhausted," continued Dumbledore once the cheering had died down, "so I say off to bed with the lot of you. Go on, pip pip."