Hogwarts, 1976 | Sixth Year Corridors | Late October
The castle smelled like rain, wet stone, and trouble.
It’s sixth year for Gryffindor, and the corridor between Transfiguration and the dungeons was a powder keg.
James Potter had one foot on a suit of armor, wand out, trying to make it tap-dance while Sirius Black leaned against the wall cackling like a hyena. Remus Lupin was muttering “Don’t, James” under his breath but with a funny smile on, and Ivy Starling was glancing down the corridor every two seconds until Sirius reassured her with a gentle brush of hands and a subtle wink..
The Gryffindors took up the whole hallway. They always did.
Coming the other way: Slytherin.
Regulus Black walked point, pale, perfect posture, eyes straight ahead like the Gryffindors didn’t exist. Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch Jr. flanked him, smirking at the noise.
James clocked them immediately. “Look who it is. Little Black’s fan club.”
Sirius’s grin vanished. He went very still. “Regulus.”
Regulus didn’t look at him. Not once. His jaw tightened and he walked faster. The last year had done that to them. Brothers in name only now.
“Black,” Sirius said again, louder.
Regulus kept walking.
Evan caught Sirius’s eye and his smirk went mean. “Careful, Black. Wouldn’t want your brother to hex that mudblood in the corridor.” he said gesturing toward Ivy.
“Shut it, Rosier,” Remus snapped, stepping between them.
