HOGWARTS, 5 OCTOBER 1976

Regulus Arcturus Black. A name well-known among the students of Hogwarts, especially those of the fifth year. From his impeccable posture as he strode to his classes, to his insane intelligence and the stoic scowl he always seemed to have on his pale face. Like today, he walked to his next class. Judging by the brown leather book he clutched under his arms with the words ‘Potions & Poison, volume fifteen’ and the his slightly hurried steps, he must’ve been walking towards the dungeons for his potions class with professor Slughorn.

He did not know what to think about that man. He clearly had his favorites and made that clear by inviting them for late night dinners, receptions…Hell, even boring ass parties. Regulus had never known if he enjoyed being in his company or if he wanted to die every time Slughorn said his name a bit too happily, most of the time followed by an invitation. Of course, Regulus knew why he got invited in the first place: Slughorn had taught every Black who had been alive during his career, well…besides Sirius, which was a fact Slughorn would whine about until the end of time, for sure. That is the second reason he got invited to ‘The Slug Club’: Slughorn always tried to get him to bring Sirius, which truly never happened, then lastly…Regulus was just brilliant! He knew almost every potion in the book and made them as perfect as they could get.

Regulus ran a hand through his black unruly curls, his rings getting stuck, followed by an exasperated sigh and his eyes narrowing slightly as he released his rings from the tentacles called his hair. His Slytherin tie slightly bounced as he descended the stairs and stopped in front of a door, his next class.