The Story of Regulus Black - Years 1-4

XLIX. Evidence, Destroyed

King's Cross was just as busy as usual. Regulus was glancing around the platform, looking for his best mate. Walburga and Orion were walking behind them, Walburga's hands clasped firmly on Regulus's shoulders.

Regulus was careful not to look too hard around the platform. If he spotted Deacon Ackland, he didn't know how he would react. And if Walburga or Orion sense that Regulus was being civil with a mudblood like Deacon, Regulus didn't put it past them to Crucio him on the spot. So, he gave up looking for Barty after only a few short minutes.

Sirius was walking beside Regulus, though quite far away from his parents themselves. When Walburga and Orion stopped walking to say goodbye to Regulus, Sirius slipped away. Regulus looked at his parents, his spine as straight as can be.

"Have a good year, Regulus," Walburga said, though her voice was cold and hard.

"I will, mother." Regulus responded, trying to keep his voice as imperial as can be.

"Remember what I said about your brother, Regulus." Orion said in a low, menacing tone of voice.

Regulus felt a shiver run down his spine, and the muscles in his back twitched involuntarily from the mere memory of the curse that his father was threatening him with once again. "Yes father," he said, just barely managing to keep his voice steady.

Orion nodded his head stiffly, and he raised his chin so that he was staring down his nose at his youngest son. Regulus took this as his cue, and he quickly turned 'round and began pushing his trolley down the platform. He had to maneuver his way through several groups of people, and he passed a few people whom he vaguely recognized.

"Oh, hullo, Regulus," someone said from beside him, and Regulus quickly turned his head to the left.

Deacon Ackland was standing there, a small smile on his otherwise rather pale face. Regulus looked the boy over, and he realized that he looked almost exactly the same as he had the summer before. He was thinner, paler, and his face looked more sunken than the end of the year. He had dark rings around his eyes, and his hair was a shaggy, curly mop atop his head with several strands hanging in front of his eyes.

Regulus murmured a greeting, intending to just keep walking without giving the boy so much as a recognition. Though, he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the state of the boy.

Deacon noticed, and he began to shift his weight from one leg to the other uncomfortably. "Yeah - uh - didn't have a very good summer," he mumbled.

Regulus nodded his head slowly, and he met eyes with the boy. Aside from the poor state of him, Deacon looked quite a bit older. His facial structure itself was different, making him look much older. His features appeared to be sharpening and maturing, losing their baby-like nature. He was also taller. From what Regulus could tell, Deacon must've been about 5'6, for he was barely two inches shorter.

"Me neither." Regulus said, unsure where the sudden honesty had come from.

Deacon cocked his head and furrowed his brow in concern. "I'm sorry."

Regulus shook his head. "Don't be."

Though, he was suddenly made aware of the fact that he was talking to a muggle-born on a public platform, where his parents were probably still standing mere yards away. He felt fear dripping down his spine, and he turned away from Deacon and hurried off without another word. Deacon watched him curiously, but he shrugged the encounter off and returned to searching for his friends.

Regulus dropped his back off at the loading compartment, though he kept his book bag and owl cage with him; the cage was empty, for he had sent Artemis to fly to Hogwarts that morning. It took a few minutes of searching, but he eventually spied the formal and stern looking Bartemius Crouch, and his son directly beside him.