Regulus hated all things Gryffindor and anything his brother was associated with. He hated the way that Sirius's gold and red robes flashed as he laughted, looking more free than Regulus had ever seen him, with those stupid Marauders of his.

James 'bedhead' Potter included. The Gryffindor golden boy from the family without faults. The family that had stolen his brother away from him to rot in Grimmauld Place. Regulus scoffed just thinking about how Sirius's hadn't even said goodbye.

But that was fine, because Regulus was the Black Heir now and he would prove that. He would come out on top even if it killed him. He would destroy all that Sirius left him for until his brother saw that he never needed him, that Regulus was who he failed to protect.

And that started by winning all the stupid Quidditch games against Gryffindor and watching how Sirius's stormed off in a strop, with Potter trailing behind him like a lost puppy. Pathetic.

The skies were clear and Regulus couldn't have asked for better conditions. He gripped his broom tight underneath him as he swerved around all the other players like they were just obstacles to get in his way.

Regulus was the Seeker for Slytherin and he had a strong win to lose ratio. Right then he was flying fast to hopefully end the game as fast as possible. Only, the idiot, James had to almost fly right into him. Regulus shot him a glare, hating the stupid smirk that brightened up any room. Regulus hated him, truly.