The Art of Dying - R. Black

nine

November 27th, 1978

My Monday was already off to a bad start. I woke up late, my hair wouldn't cooperate in the slightest, I forgot my sweater so potions class, which I was also late too, was freezing.

When I rushed into class ten minutes late, Professor Slughorn didn't bat an eye, but Regulus smirked at my frazzled state.

"You look like shit, you know," Regulus whispered.

I bumped my knee harshly against him. "Shut up, I woke up late," I muttered through clenched teeth.

I survived the freezing cold dungeons only to be met with a bright red color bomb as I walked into the Gryffindor common room during lunch.

"We're so sorry!" Harrison Watts, a third year, exclaimed.

Jack Boyd, also a third year, stared at me with wide eyes. "It was an accident! We were trying to get Gracie, not you!"

I blinked through the red powder that was covering my entire body, trying my best to not hex the two of them into oblivion. "Detention, tonight," I announced, "And if I catch you doing that again, I won't hesitate to tell McGonagall."

They both nodded quickly before rushing away, apologizing again.

I missed lunch because I had to shower off the red powder that coated my entire body. Thankfully, I remembered my sweater as I went to my last few classes of the day.

My day hadn't gotten any worse, yet, but I had a feeling that it would.

Regulus fucking Black is waiting for me outside the Great Hall like usual. Most days I wouldn't actually mind him, but today is not the day.

"Let's go already," I said, brushing right past him.

Regulus caught up to me, falling into step with me. "Yikes, bad day?" He teased.

"Yes, please don't make it any worse, otherwise I might very well throw you into the Black Lake," I answered. "I hope you know how to swim."

We were in charge of the second floor today, to we took the main staircase up to the second floor corridor.

Out of my peripheral vision, I could see Regulus staring at me. His black hair was longer than it had been at the start of the year, soft curls forming at the end. His green-grey eyes bore into me, his jawline angled as he stared at me.

I smacked him in the bicep, "Stop staring at me, Black."

"You're hot when you're angry, McKinnon," Regulus admitted.

I rolled my eyes at him, "Of course you would get turned on by people being mean to you."

Regulus smirked and we fell silent as we turned down a smaller corridor.

A ghoulish noise broke through the silence as we got further down the corridor. Regulus and I exchanged a look as we ventured towards the noise. It got louder as we continued down the corridor, and we eventually located the source.

I pushed open the door to the girls' lavatory, Regulus on my heels as I stepped into the abandoned bathroom. It was the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom ever. A row of chipped sinks sat nestled beneath a cracked, dirty mirror. The room was dim, the candles burning low, and the whole room felt damp. The wooden doors to the stalls were slivering and flaking.

"Does no one ever use this?" Regulus asked, looking around the bathroom.

I shook my head, "No, most people just use it to smoke or hook up."