The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix - Part One

Further Disciplinary Action

Albus Dumbledore gripped Regulus Black's arm so tight that Regulus had no choice but to follow along at a bit of a trot. Students in the Slytherin common room had scattered and were now poking their heads out of dormitory rooms. The other sixth year boys were standing awkwardly at the end of the stairs and as Dumbledore dragged Regulus past, Regulus met eyes with Barty who stared back with admiration.

He thinks I've been at Voldemort's business, Regulus thought. The look of reverence in the boy's eyes was in thinking his mate had been up to some dark work made Regulus sick and for a fleeting moment he thought at kicking Barty - and then thought immediately of kicking Dumbledore and anyone else who stood close enough his feet could reach.

Bastards the lot of them, none of them give a bleeding damn about me, none of them even know me. The only person who ever knew me was Maryrose, and look what they did to her.

He was livid, he was on fire, he wanted to grab the bloody Peverell portrait right out of Dumbledore's robes, or wherever he'd stowed the painting away, and to scream and shout and destroy nearly literally everything. He was so mad about Maryrose and Alabaster, about being misunderstood, about Voldemort and horcruxes and his rubbish purist family name and the people who, for generations untold, had made choices that ultimately led to this moment now, being dragged away out of his common room and into the corridor.

"YOU BLOODY CAN'T GO BURSTING INTO A LAD'S ROOMS LIKE THIS, WHAT OF PRIVACY?" Regulus was shouting, "YOU CAN'T - YOU CAN'T DRAG ME LIKE THIS - UNHAND ME! LET ME GO THIS BLOODY INSTANT YOU CRAZY OLD CRACKPOT!" He twisted and kicked and bellowed and he thought fleetingly that he sounded like a child throwing a temper tantrum when he didn't get his way, and that he didn't care. Let the old fool silence him. So Regulus continued on shouting, even as Dumbledore entirely ignored his verbal pelting. "JUST YOU WAIT TIL MY MOTHER HEARS ABOUT THIS, SHE WILL TEAR THIS SCHOOL APART BRICK FROM BRICK AND CAST IT INTO THE BLOODY LAKE SO IT CAN LIE IN THE MUCK WHERE IT BELONGS!!! YOU PRIDE YOURSELF FOR BEING SO RUDDY OPEN MINDED - YOU DO NOT EVEN KNOW A FRACTION OF THE ROT GOING ON 'ROUND YOU, YOU ARROGANT ---"

The door to Horace Slughorn's office opened suddenly as they approached to pass and the Potions Master stepped out and looked around, drawn out by the screaming. Dumbledore's face red with anger and his countenance burning as he dragged Regulus toward the office door. Slughorn looked startled. "Albus!" he said, his eyes falling first on Regulus's flailing limbs and wagging mouth (as the boy hadn't stopped his insults and curses), and then on Dumbledore's firm grip, fingers biting into Regulus's elbow, and he gasped. "What IS the meaning of this, Albus?!"

"He's trying at ripping my bleedin' arm clean off!" Regulus shouted. "The old nutjob's done cracked his bloody skull right open and poured out what little brains he had left!"

Dumbledore glowered.

"Albus, Albus," chortled the head of Slytherin house, "Come now, relax your grip, it isn't as though he's going to run off anywhere! Are you, my lad?"

"No," Regulus wrenched his arm away from Dumbledore, who stared at him fiercely. He rubbed the redness where the tight grip had been, feeling sick to his stomach because as horrid as Voldemort was, he had never once done that.

"Horace, I do apologize for the racket," Dumbledore's voice was on edge as he said, "But I have a good deal of business to attend to with Mr. Black and I was rather hoping to use your Floo.... and to ask your accompaniment to my office, as this meeting will result in the likely expulsion of this young man, pending a bit of questioning."

Slughorn looked confused, but stepped aside for the pair to enter.

Regulus went in the office quickly, marching away from Dumbledore, his mind racing how he was going to talk his way out of everything. Obviously Dumbledore knew about the portrait now, there was no use denying he'd taken it - although he hadn't actually taken it so much as he had caught it falling off the wall and been told to carry it somewhere - he began weaving out how to speak the words without lying - he was certain before the night was over he would have to do so if he had any hope of not facing expulsion.