#dgw

Sirius, sprawled across the bench with one arm hooked over the back, narrowed his eyes at the headmaster. “I respect it.”

“You wouldn’t if he picked you,” Mary said.

“He won’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m his favourite.”

“You’re nobody’s favourite,” Marlene informed him.

Fabian and Gideon both made offended sounds.

“He’s ours,” Fabian said.

“Unfortunately,” Gideon added.

At the Slytherin table, Regulus had not bothered looking up at all.

He had continued cutting into his dinner with the calm precision of someone who had already decided that whatever nonsense Dumbledore intended to inflict upon the school was beneath his notice.

Barty, however, was watching the headmaster with bright interest.

“This could be funny.”

“It won’t be funny if it happens to us,” Evan said.

“It would be funny if it happened to you.”

Pandora tilted her head. “I think he may be planning theatre.”

Dorcas looked at her. “What makes you say that?”

“He has installed a stage.”

Everyone looked.

There was, in fact, now a stage standing in front of the staff table.

It had not been there three seconds earlier.

Regulus slowly stopped cutting his food.

“No,” he said.

Evan glanced at him. “He hasn’t done anything yet.”

“He has manifested a stage during dinner. I’m refusing in advance.”

At the front of the hall, Dumbledore opened his arms.

A curtain of shimmering gold unfurled behind him. Footlights burst into life along the edge of the stage. Several enchanted spotlights wheeled overhead like enormous, excitable birds searching for prey.

“Tonight,” Dumbledore announced, “we shall be enjoying a musical showcase.”

The Great Hall erupted.

Some people cheered.

Many groaned.

Several students attempted to crawl underneath their tables.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled more brightly with every visible sign of terror.

“I have selected several songs from my favourite Disney films.”

There was a brief, confused silence.

James turned to Lily. “What’s Disney?”

“Muggle films,” Lily said, already pressing her fingers to her forehead. “Animated ones. Mostly.”

“Muggle musicals,” Mary added.

Sirius brightened. “So people sing while things happen?”

“Yes.”

“That sounds brilliant.”

“It is,” Lily said. “When trained performers do it voluntarily.”

Dumbledore continued as though he had not heard the rising panic.

“I shall choose students at random. Costumes and choreography will be provided. Participation is compulsory.”

The panic became immediate and violent.

“I withdraw my support,” Sirius said.

“You were his favourite ten seconds ago,” Remus reminded him.

“I’ve matured.”

The first victim was dragged onto the stage by a ribbon of sparkling magic while trying to grip the edge of the Ravenclaw table.

Dumbledore dressed the unfortunate boy in an enormous red crab costume and made him perform “Under the Sea.”

He could not sing.

He could not dance.

He also appeared to have forgotten how knees worked.

His costume’s claws were too large to control, and midway through the number, he accidentally struck one of the enchanted fish dancers hard enough to send it spinning into Dumbledore.

The Great Hall screamed with laughter.

James collapsed against Sirius.

Peter was wheezing into his sleeve.

Lily tried to cover her mouth but failed when the crab costume rotated in the wrong direction and continued dancing with its back to the audience.

At the Slytherin table, Barty stood on the bench to applaud.

“Encore!”

“No,” the Ravenclaw boy gasped.

“Again!”

“Sit down,” Dorcas said, yanking Barty’s robes until he dropped back onto the bench.

The second performance involved two Hufflepuffs who had apparently been arguing for three years and were forced into matching royal costumes for “A Whole New World.”

They refused to look at each other.

The enchanted carpet beneath them lurched into the air anyway.

One of them sang every line through clenched teeth.

The other kept deliberately stepping on his feet during the choreography.

When the carpet swept above the Gryffindor table, the first Hufflepuff hissed, “Stop elbowing me.”

“You stop breathing on me.”

“We’re singing a love song!”

“This is not love!”

Dumbledore conducted from below with both hands, delighted.

Alice had tears in her eyes from laughing.

Frank was holding her upright by the shoulders while laughing almost as hard.

“They’re going to kill each other,” Alice managed.

“After the final note,” Frank said.

“Romantic,” Marlene declared.

The third performance was “Be Our Guest,” involving a terrified fourth-year in an enchanted candelabra costume and an ensemble of floating plates.

The plates had better rhythm than he did.

The fourth was “Hakuna Matata,” performed by three students who had been magicked into animal costumes and immediately began fighting over who had to wear the warthog head.

By then, dinner had been completely abandoned.

Everyone had turned on the benches to face the stage. Students were standing on seats. House tables had dissolved into chaos. Even those who had initially protested were now shouting suggestions and placing bets upon who would be chosen next.

Dumbledore looked across the hall.

Every head ducked.

Every voice vanished.

Regulus continued eating.

Barty stared at him.

“You do realise looking calm makes you more noticeable.”

Regulus lifted his goblet. “Looking frightened would entertain him.”

“Existing entertains him,” Evan said.

Pandora watched Dumbledore’s gaze travel over the tables. “He’s looking here.”

“No, he isn’t,” Regulus said.

“He is.”

“He’s looking past us.”

“He’s smiling at you,” Dorcas added.

“He smiles at everyone. It’s his most threatening habit.”

At the Gryffindor table, Sirius had also noticed.

His face split into a grin.

“Oh, no.”

James followed his gaze. “What?”

“He’s looking at Regulus.”

Remus leaned slightly to see around Peter. “He is.”

Marlene slapped both hands against the table. “Pick him.”

Mary gasped. “You’re evil.”

“Pick him!”

Fabian and Gideon joined her immediately.

“Regulus!” Fabian shouted.

“Regulus Black!” Gideon yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth.

Regulus’s eyes slid towards them with lethal calm.

The twins waved.

Dumbledore lifted one hand.

The spotlight struck Regulus directly in the face.

The Slytherin table exploded.

Regulus closed his eyes.

Barty fell sideways against Evan, shrieking with laughter.

Evan slapped both hands over his mouth, though his shoulders were shaking.

Pandora applauded delicately.

Dorcas leaned across the table. “You refused in advance.”

“I did.”

“Perhaps he didn’t hear you.”

“He is about to.”

Dumbledore beamed down the hall. “Regulus Black.”

“No.”

The answer came so quickly and so flatly that the entire hall went silent.

Dumbledore’s smile widened. “Do come forward.”

“No.”

“You have not yet heard what you shall be performing.”

“I don’t need to.”

Sirius twisted around on the bench, grinning openly now. “Go on, Reg!”

Regulus looked at him. “Die.”

James made a choking sound.

Peter buried his face in Remus’s shoulder.

Lily covered her smile with one hand while Mary and Marlene clung to each other.

Dumbledore extended his fingers.

A line of gold magic curled around Regulus’s waist.

Regulus immediately seized the edge of the Slytherin table with both hands.

“No.”

The magic pulled.

His plate slid after him.

Barty grabbed Regulus around the shoulders, supposedly to help him remain seated, though he was laughing too hard to provide any useful resistance.

“I’ve got you!”

“You’re pushing me.”

“I’m supporting you emotionally.”

“You are pushing me towards the stage.”

Evan caught the back of Regulus’s robes.

For one hopeful second, all three of them remained in place.

Then Dumbledore flicked his wrist.

Regulus was pulled off the bench.

Barty and Evan went with him.

Pandora calmly lifted Regulus’s plate out of the way before it could fall.

Dorcas leaned back as the three boys were dragged several feet across the floor.

“Traitors!” Regulus snapped.

“We’re trying!” Evan said, skidding after him.

“No, you’re not!”

Barty lost his grip first and sprawled flat on the stones, still cackling.

Evan released Regulus a moment later rather than be pulled underneath the Ravenclaw table.

Regulus continued sliding towards the stage, boots scraping uselessly against the floor.

The Great Hall was deafening.

Students pounded their fists against the tables.

The Slytherins were screaming loudest of all.

“Captain!”

“Go on, Black!”

“Show them how it’s done!”

Regulus caught the corner of the Hufflepuff table.

The magical ribbon tightened.

His arms stretched out.

“I am not performing for you people!”

Marlene stood on the Gryffindor bench. “You absolutely are!”

“Shut up, McKinnon!”

Fabian cupped his hands around his mouth. “Give us a dance, Black!”

“I’ll give you a concussion!”

Gideon slapped Fabian’s shoulder. “He’s already in character.”

At last, Regulus’s fingers slipped.

He shot across the remaining stretch of floor and vanished behind the enchanted curtains.

The hall roared.

Sirius was laughing so hard he had folded over the table.

James pounded him between the shoulder blades.

“You’re enjoying this far too much.”

“I’ve waited my entire life for this.”

“You didn’t know Disney existed half an hour ago.”

“I’ve waited half an hour for this.”

A moment later, Regulus emerged from behind the curtain under his own power.

He looked murderous.

His robes were slightly crooked from the struggle. His hair had fallen over one eye. The golden ribbon still circled his waist like a glittering leash.

Dumbledore stepped towards him with the patient expression of a man soothing a hostile cat.

“Regulus—”

“No.”

“I believe you will enjoy—”

“No.”

“It is a very stirring piece.”

“I hope it stirs someone else.”

Dumbledore’s eyes gleamed. “I should like you to sing ‘I’ll Make a Man Out of You.’”

The Muggle-born students screamed.

The pure-blood students looked around in confusion, then began screaming too simply because everyone else was doing it.

Lily’s mouth dropped open before she started laughing.

Mary grabbed her arm. “That song?”

“That song.”

“Is this going to be good?”

“It could be catastrophic.”

“Better.”

Onstage, Regulus stared at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore stared back.

Regulus folded his arms. “No.”

“Ten points from Slytherin.”

The Slytherin table booed.

Regulus did not blink. “Take twenty.”

“A week of detention.”

“Make it two.”

“With Mr Filch.”

Regulus hesitated.

Barty shot to his feet. “Stay strong!”

Evan grabbed him by the back of his robes and pulled him down.

Dumbledore continued gently, “And perhaps another fifty points.”

A wave of outrage rolled through the Slytherin table.

“Do it, Captain!”

“Just sing!”

“Save the points!”

Regulus turned and looked at his own house.

They stared back at him.

He pointed at them. “Cowards.”

A seventh-year shouted, “We’re trying to win the cup!”

“You should have considered that before encouraging him!”

Dumbledore waited pleasantly.

Regulus slowly turned back.

“Fine.”

The hall erupted into cheers.

Dumbledore clapped his hands once.

Regulus raised one finger. “But I have a question.”

“Yes?”

Regulus glanced over his shoulder towards the entire school, then back at Dumbledore.

“Am I being typecast because I’m Asian?”

For one perfect second, there was absolute silence.

Then the Great Hall detonated.

Sirius made a sound so loud it was almost a bark and fell directly off the bench.

James lunged to catch him and missed.

Peter choked on nothing.

Remus covered his face with both hands, his shoulders shaking.

Lily dropped her forehead against the table.

Mary screamed.

Marlene was bent double, slapping Alice’s arm while Alice gasped helplessly against Frank’s shoulder.

Frank had gone bright red from trying to breathe.

Fabian and Gideon stood together on the bench, clutching one another like shipwreck survivors.

At the Slytherin table, Barty had collapsed across Evan’s lap.

Evan was staring at Regulus with his mouth open, caught somewhere between horror and admiration.

Pandora nodded thoughtfully as though Regulus had raised a valid academic question.

Dorcas simply put her head down on folded arms and laughed.

Dumbledore, utterly unashamed, grinned.

Regulus stared at him.

“You’re not even denying it.”

“I believe you will look splendid.”

“That is not an answer.”

“It is the answer you are receiving.”

Sirius dragged himself upright, still laughing. “He got you there!”

Regulus looked over at him. “You’re Korean too.”

Sirius’s laughter stopped.

Dumbledore’s gaze shifted.

Sirius dropped beneath the table.

“No,” his muffled voice said.

Regulus smiled for the first time.

It was not a kind smile.

“Interesting.”

Dumbledore lifted both hands before Regulus could continue.

Magic burst over the stage.

Regulus vanished inside a spiral of red, black and gold.

The wind of it swept his robes away and replaced them with a fitted warrior’s costume: dark trousers tucked into sturdy boots, layered armour in deep crimson and black, gold fastenings crossing his chest, bracers covering his forearms and a long sash secured at his waist. The cut was unmistakably theatrical, something drawn from a Disney vision of an ancient warrior rather than a precise uniform, but it fit him with infuriating perfection.

The magic caught his hair next.

Regulus jerked his head away.

“Do not—”

Too late.

His usual carefully arranged fringe was swept back and broken apart, revealing the natural streak of pale blond running through the dark hair at the front.

The Great Hall went mad.

The sound hit the ceiling.

Regulus stood beneath the lights, one hand halfway to his hair, wearing dark armour and a look of stunned offence.

At the Gryffindor table, James stopped laughing.

His eyebrows climbed.

“Oh.”

Remus looked sideways at him. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“That was not a nothing sort of ‘oh.’”

James gestured helplessly at the stage. “Look at him.”

“We are all looking at him,” Lily said.

Mary stared openly. “That hardly seems fair.”

Marlene nodded. “It’s deeply unreasonable.”

Alice leaned past Frank. “I didn’t know his hair did that.”

“Neither did I,” Frank admitted.

Peter blinked. “Does he always look like that?”

“No,” Sirius said immediately.

Everyone turned to him.

Sirius scowled. “He does not.”

“He very much does,” Remus said.

“He looks ridiculous.”

“He looks like he’s about to lead an army,” Fabian said.

Gideon whistled. “I’d enlist.”

Sirius shoved both hands over his ears when the Slytherins began chanting.

“Captain! Captain! Captain!”

Barty had climbed onto the table and was pointing at Regulus as though personally responsible for his existence.

“That’s my best friend!”

“You say that every day,” Evan said.

“And every day I’m right!”

Evan’s eyes had not left the stage. “The hair is new.”

Pandora smiled. “It is lovely.”

Dorcas glanced at the shouting Slytherins. “They’re never going to behave at practice again.”

“They don’t behave now,” Evan said.

“That’s because he terrifies them.”

Onstage, Regulus touched the pale section of hair and glared at Dumbledore.

“Put it back.”

“After the performance.”

“Now.”

“After.”

“Headmaster.”

“Regulus.”

The two stared at one another.

Then six random students were ripped from different house tables and deposited onstage in simple training costumes.

One landed on his knees.

Another stumbled backwards into the curtain.

A third immediately attempted to flee and bounced off an invisible magical barrier surrounding the stage.

Regulus watched them.

They watched Regulus.

Dumbledore handed him a long wooden pole.

Regulus looked down at it.

Then he looked at the ensemble.

The ensemble collectively stepped back.

Barty slammed both palms on the Slytherin table. “They know!”

A magical drumbeat rolled through the Great Hall.

Regulus tightened his hand around the pole.

“Do I actually have to dance?”

“Proper acting and choreography,” Dumbledore said. “With enthusiasm.”

“I don’t possess enthusiasm.”

“The magic will assist you.”

Regulus’s expression changed.

“What does that mean?”

The music began.

Regulus’s right foot slid backwards without his permission.

His shoulders squared.

The pole snapped upright in his hand.

He looked down at his own body in betrayal.

Dumbledore retreated from the stage, delighted.

Regulus was pulled forward by the choreography, marching towards the ensemble with the smooth, controlled stride of a commander inspecting a deeply disappointing collection of recruits.

The spotlight followed him.

He drew in a breath.

When he sang, the first words came out rough, low and stern.

“Let’s get down to business.”

The hall fell silent in sheer surprise.

Regulus’s voice was nothing like the uncertain performances that had come before. It was boyish but deep enough to carry, gruff around the edges and smooth beneath it, every note clean. There was a lilting quality buried in the sharper delivery, something controlled and effortless that made the words cut clearly across the hall.

“To defeat the Huns.”

He swung the pole around his body in a tight, flawless circle.

One end stopped an inch from an ensemble student’s nose.

The student went cross-eyed looking at it.

Regulus’s mouth twitched.

“Did they send me daughters when I asked for sons?”

The ensemble was yanked into a straight line by magic.

They were not remotely straight.

Regulus walked down the row, using the pole to prod one student’s shoulders backwards, push another’s knees apart and lift a third student’s chin.

“You’re the saddest bunch I ever met.”

The Slytherins screamed.

“That’s practice!” someone shouted.

“That is exactly how he talks to us!”

Regulus glanced towards his house without breaking the rhythm.

The look was so familiar that half the Slytherin Quidditch team immediately sat straighter.

“But you can bet before we’re through—”

He planted the pole against the floor and used it to vault.

His body lifted cleanly into the air.

He twisted horizontally over the stunned line of students, armour flashing beneath the lights, then landed on the other side without so much as a stumble.

“Mister, I’ll make a man out of you.”

The entire school erupted.

James was on his feet before he seemed to realise he had moved.

Peter pointed at the stage. “He can do that?”

Sirius looked personally betrayed. “Apparently.”

“You lived with him,” Remus said.

“He didn’t vault over furniture at home!”

“Perhaps you weren’t worth impressing.”

Sirius turned on him. “Whose side are you on?”

“His, currently.”

Onstage, Regulus’s magical choreography pulled him into a slow, measured sequence of movements.

He lowered the pole.

His voice softened without losing its stern edge.

“Tranquil as a forest.”

He stepped between two students attempting a defensive stance and adjusted both of them with sharp taps against their arms.

“But on fire within.”

The beat strengthened.

Regulus spun, dropped low and swept one leg in a circle. The nearest student was compelled to jump over it, landed badly and windmilled both arms.

Regulus caught the back of his costume before he could fall.

“Once you find your centre—”

He set the student upright.

Then he poked him directly in the stomach with the pole.

“You are sure to win.”

The student doubled over.

Regulus’s eyes flashed with amusement.

Barty screamed, “Do it again!”

Evan grabbed his sleeve. “Stop encouraging him to assault the ensemble.”

“He’s teaching.”

“He stabbed him in the stomach.”

“With wisdom.”

The ensemble attempted a coordinated martial-arts sequence.

One student punched left while the rest punched right.

Another turned completely around and nearly struck the person behind him.

Regulus stopped in front of them, visibly appalled.

“You’re a spineless, pale, pathetic lot.”

He hooked the pole behind one student’s ankle and tugged it into the proper stance.

“And you haven’t got a clue.”

The student beside him raised both hands helplessly.

Regulus slapped the pole across his palms until he formed fists.

“Somehow I’ll make a man out of you.”

The drums accelerated.

The ensemble scattered into different training stations created by the magic.

One was forced to run in place while carrying two heavy buckets.

Another attempted to climb an enchanted pole that stretched towards the ceiling.

Two more sparred with staffs and immediately became tangled together.

Regulus moved amongst them like a merciless commander, the choreography dragging him from one disaster to the next.

The first ensemble student staggered forwards, panting dramatically.

“I’m never gonna catch my breath.”

Regulus walked alongside him, not remotely sympathetic, and used his pole to push him onwards when he tried to slow.

The second student was being dragged backwards by a rope tied around their waist.

They reached hopelessly towards the audience and sang, “Say goodbye to those who knew me.”

Regulus turned his face away to hide a laugh.

The third student attempted a forward roll.

He got halfway, became stuck on his shoulders and toppled sideways.

“Boy, was I a fool in school for cutting gym.”

Marlene screamed with laughter.

Mary clung to her. “That one might actually die.”

“Regulus won’t let him.”

Regulus prodded the student with the end of the pole.

The student rolled onto his back.

Regulus prodded him again.

The student scrambled upright.

A fourth ensemble member watched Regulus demonstrate a sequence of strikes against an enchanted training dummy. The dummy’s head flew off and sailed into the curtain.

The student stared at him in horror.

“This guy’s got ’em scared to death.”

The Slytherin table thundered its approval.

Frank glanced towards them. “They genuinely are frightened of him.”

“Have you seen him at Quidditch practice?” Alice asked.

“No.”

“Neither have I, but I understand it now.”

The fifth student crouched behind another, peeking nervously around their shoulder.

Regulus turned.

The student immediately straightened and sang, “Hope he doesn’t see right through me.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes.

The student smiled weakly.

Regulus pointed the pole at him.

He yelped and fled into formation.

The final ensemble student was suddenly confronted with an enchanted river rushing across the stage. It was shallow and entirely contained by magic, but the student stared at it as if facing the Black Lake during a storm.

“Now I really wish that I knew how to swim!”

The student leapt.

He did not clear the river.

Water erupted in every direction.

Regulus was hit directly across the chest.

The audience howled.

For a second, he stood drenched beneath the lights, water dripping from his hair and armour.

His expression became very still.

Dumbledore was openly laughing.

Regulus slowly wiped water from his face.

Then the choreography seized him again.

The ensemble shouted, “Be a man!”

Regulus sprinted forwards.

“We must be swift as the coursing river.”

He planted one foot at the edge of the magical water and launched himself into a front flip, clearing it completely and landing in a low crouch.

Every table shook beneath pounding hands.

“Be a man!” the ensemble cried.

Regulus came upright with the pole already spinning.

“With all the force of a great typhoon.”

Three students rushed him at once.

He blocked the first staff, ducked beneath the second and kicked the third out of their hands. The staff flew upwards. Regulus caught it behind his back without looking.

Barty made a strangled sound and grabbed Evan by both shoulders.

“Did you see that?”

“I have eyes.”

“Did you see it?”

“Yes!”

“Be a man!”

Regulus tossed the second staff aside and ran towards one of the stage pillars.

“With all the strength of a raging fire.”

One foot hit the pillar.

Then the other.

He ran two steps up it, pushed backwards and turned in mid-air, armour and sash sweeping around him before he landed facing the audience.

His pale fringe had fallen partly across his forehead again, the blond streak bright beneath the spotlights.

“Mysterious as the dark side of the moon.”

The final note rolled through the Great Hall.

Half the audience simply screamed.

The other half had forgotten how.

James stared.

Remus glanced sideways at him again. “You’re doing the face.”

“What face?”

“The same one Sirius is doing.”

Sirius snapped out of his own stunned stare. “I am not doing a face.”

“You both look as if you’ve been struck in the head.”

Peter leaned around Remus. “To be fair, that flip was ridiculous.”

Lily looked towards the Slytherin table.

Barty was standing on the bench again.

Evan had stopped trying to pull him down.

Pandora was smiling brightly, clapping in perfect time.

Dorcas had both hands around her mouth as she shouted towards the stage.

The Slytherins behind them were completely uncontrollable.

Several had started mimicking Regulus’s posture.

One student stood on a bench holding a breadstick like a training pole.

Regulus saw him.

The breadstick was immediately lowered.

The music shifted into a darker marching rhythm.

The magical scenery transformed. Training posts rose from the stage. Banners snapped into place above them. The ensemble scrambled into a ragged line while Regulus stalked in front of them.

“Time is racing toward us till the Huns arrive.”

He struck the floor with his pole.

The ensemble marched forwards.

One went left instead of right.

Regulus caught them by the shoulder and physically turned them around.

“Heed my every order and you might survive.”

The Slytherin Quidditch players roared again.

“That is exactly what he says!”

“Word for word!”

Regulus pointed the pole at them from across the hall.

They fell silent.

Then one brave voice shouted, “Worth it!”

Regulus’s mouth curved despite himself.

The ensemble attempted a complicated set of kicks.

One student nearly fell.

Another kicked too early and struck a training post.

A third simply spun in a confused circle.

Regulus stared at them with growing theatrical despair.

“You’re unsuited for the rage of war.”

He walked down the line, knocking their weapons gently but decisively from their hands one after another.

“So pack up, go home, you’re through.”

The ensemble drooped.

One student started dragging an enchanted sack away.

Regulus hooked the pole through the strap and pulled them back.

The student slid across the stage on their heels.

“How could I make a man out of you?”

The ensemble looked at him.

Regulus looked at them.

The student still lying in the shallow river raised one hand.

Regulus pointed towards the formation.

The student scrambled out.

The music surged.

The entire hall rose with it.

The ensemble shouted, “Be a man!”

Regulus launched into motion again.

“We must be swift as the coursing river.”

This time, the ensemble followed him across the magical water. Regulus crossed with a series of rapid handsprings, each movement clean and controlled. The others attempted the same.

One managed a cartwheel.

Another simply jumped.

A third fell in again.

Regulus caught the final student by the forearm and hauled them across before they could land in the water.

“Be a man!”

Regulus swung the pole over his head.

“With all the force of a great typhoon.”

The ensemble surrounded him.

Staffs struck towards him from every direction.

He twisted between them, blocking one, redirecting another and stepping onto a lowered pole long enough to use it as a platform. He kicked upwards, sending an enchanted target spinning above the stage.

“Be a man!”

The target dropped.

Regulus turned and struck it from the air with the end of his pole.

“With all the strength of a raging fire.”

The target flew across the stage and shattered into harmless sparks.

The school screamed so loudly that the enchanted ceiling seemed to tremble.

“Mysterious as the dark side of the moon.”

Regulus finished with the pole held across his body, breathing hard, eyes bright beneath his disordered fringe.

The ensemble formed up behind him.

For the first time, they almost looked competent.

The music did not stop.

It rose again, faster and louder.

The ensemble threw their fists into the air.

“Be a man!”

Regulus ran towards them.

“We must be swift as a coursing river.”

Two students linked their hands.

Regulus stepped into the platform they made and was thrown upwards.

He turned once in the air, then twice, folding and unfolding with impossible precision before landing at the front of the stage.

Sirius shot to his feet.

“That was three!”

Remus blinked. “Two.”

“It was three!”

“It was very clearly two.”

“It was at least four,” James said, not looking away from Regulus.

Lily stared at him. “You’ve lost the ability to count.”

“I’ve lost several abilities.”

“Be a man!” the ensemble sang.

Regulus swept one arm out.

“With all the force of a great typhoon.”

The stage filled with enchanted opponents.

Regulus and the ensemble charged.

He ducked beneath a swinging weapon, rolled across one shoulder and came up behind the attacker. The pole hooked around its legs. One sharp pull sent it crashing to the floor in a burst of smoke.

The ensemble copied him.

Badly.

One student hooked their own ankle and fell.

Regulus grabbed the back of their costume, dragged them upright and shoved them towards the next opponent without missing the beat.

“Be a man!”

The drums crashed.

“With all the strength of a raging fire.”

Regulus sprinted through the centre of the stage.

He kicked one enchanted weapon aside, spun beneath another and planted both hands on the floor. His legs cut through the air in a wide circle, knocking two opponents backwards before he sprang upright again.

The final enchanted figure rushed him.

Regulus dropped the pole.

The audience gasped.

He ran directly towards it, stepped onto its lowered shield, vaulted over its head and landed behind it.

The pole, still spinning from where he had released it, bounced upright from the stage.

Regulus caught it.

He struck the enchanted figure between the shoulders.

It burst into a fountain of golden sparks.

“Mysterious as the dark side of the moon.”

The music ended.

Regulus froze in the final pose, one knee bent, the pole angled behind him, pale-streaked fringe falling across his face.

The ensemble stood around him, exhausted, soaked and dishevelled.

Silence held for less than a heartbeat.

Then the Great Hall erupted.

Every house was on its feet.

Gryffindors screamed and hammered the table.

Hufflepuffs stamped their feet.

Ravenclaws shouted themselves hoarse.

The Slytherins had abandoned all remaining dignity.

Barty launched himself onto Evan’s back.

Evan staggered but caught him under the knees.

“Captain!” Barty shrieked.

“Get off me!”

“Take me to him!”

“No!”

Pandora stood on the bench applauding, her face glowing with delight.

Dorcas whistled sharply through her fingers.

Behind them, the Slytherin Quidditch team had begun chanting again.

“CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN!”

Regulus remained onstage, breathing heavily.

He looked across the hall.

The cheering only grew louder.

Marlene grabbed Mary’s hands and bounced in place.

“He can sing!”

“He can fight!”

“He can flip!”

“He can threaten people musically!” Fabian added.

Gideon pointed towards Regulus. “That may be the best thing he’s ever done.”

Frank was clapping hard enough that Alice had to catch his goblet before it tipped over.

Alice laughed. “He looked like he was enjoying it at the end.”

“He absolutely was.”

“He’ll deny it.”

“Of course he will.”

Peter climbed onto the bench for a better view. “Do you think he actually trains like that?”

Sirius folded his arms. “No.”

Everyone looked at him again.

Sirius scowled. “Stop doing that.”

Remus’s mouth twitched. “You seem proud.”

“I seem horrified.”

“You stood up during the last flip.”

“I was preparing to leave.”

“You shouted the number of rotations.”

“I was criticising his technique.”

James finally looked away from the stage. “What was wrong with his technique?”

Sirius opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Lily smiled sweetly. “Go on.”

Sirius sat down.

“I hate all of you.”

Onstage, Dumbledore approached Regulus through the fading shower of golden sparks.

“Splendid.”

Regulus straightened slowly.

His hair was damp. His costume was dusty. One sleeve had been torn slightly during the final sequence. He looked exhausted, furious and unfairly composed despite both.

“Change me back.”

“In a moment.”

“Now.”

Dumbledore turned towards the audience. “I believe Regulus deserves another round of applause.”

Regulus’s eyes widened.

The cheering began again.

“No.”

Dumbledore started clapping.

“Do not encourage them.”

The applause became thunderous.

Regulus looked towards the Slytherin table.

Barty had finally climbed off Evan and was now bowing repeatedly towards Regulus.

Evan applauded with a crooked smile.

Pandora blew him a kiss.

Dorcas shouted, “Encore!”

Regulus pointed the pole at her.

Dorcas grinned.

The Slytherin Quidditch team straightened instinctively.

Regulus looked over at the Gryffindors.

Marlene and Mary were both waving their arms.

Alice and Frank applauded beside them.

Fabian and Gideon had acquired two breadsticks and were attempting to recreate his staff choreography.

Fabian struck Gideon across the forehead.

Gideon retaliated immediately.

Peter was trying to explain one of the flips to Remus using his hands.

Lily was laughing at something James had said.

James was still staring at Regulus.

Sirius caught his brother’s eye.

For a moment, Regulus’s expression sharpened.

Sirius lifted both hands and shouted over the crowd, “You missed a spot!”

Regulus stared at him.

Then he hurled the pole.

Sirius screamed and ducked.

The pole flew over the Gryffindor table and embedded itself upright in the floor behind him.

The Great Hall exploded for a final time.

Sirius slowly lifted his head.

Regulus stood onstage with one eyebrow raised.

Barty collapsed against Evan again.

Remus leaned over the table to inspect the pole.

“Excellent aim.”

“He tried to kill me!”

“He missed deliberately,” Lily said.

“How do you know?”

Regulus called across the hall, “I didn’t.”

Sirius pointed at him. “He admitted it!”

Dumbledore was laughing too hard to intervene.

Regulus turned back to him.

“Clothes.”

With another flick of magic, the armour vanished and his robes returned. His fringe fell neatly forward again, concealing most of the blond streak.

A loud wave of disappointed groans swept through the hall.

Regulus touched his hair.

Then he looked towards the audience in disbelief.

“Are you booing my fringe?”

“Yes!” several tables shouted.

“Show us the hair!” Marlene yelled.

Regulus’s face went blank.

“No.”

The magical ribbon released his waist.

He stepped off the stage.

The moment his boots reached the floor, the Slytherins surged towards the edge of their table.

Barty met him first, throwing both arms around his shoulders.

“That was the greatest thing I have ever seen.”

“Get off.”

“You threw a weapon at your brothers head.”

“It was my weapon.”

“You looked beautiful doing it.”

“Barty.”

Evan reached them next and pulled Barty backwards by the collar.

“You were good.”

Regulus adjusted his robes. “I was being controlled by magic.”

“The magic didn’t sing for you.”

Regulus paused.

Pandora reached up and gently moved part of his fringe, revealing the pale streak again.

Regulus caught her wrist.

“No.”

“It is pretty.”

“No.”

Dorcas appeared at his other side. “The entire house is terrified of you now.”

“They were already terrified of me.”

“More terrified.”

“Good.”

Behind them, the Quidditch team began chanting for their captain again.

Regulus turned.

Every player instantly stopped.

He looked along the table.

No one moved.

No one spoke.

Regulus nodded once and sat down.

Barty dropped into the seat beside him, still grinning.

Evan sat opposite.

Pandora calmly returned Regulus’s dinner plate to its place.

The food was still warm.

Regulus picked up his fork.

Across the hall, several hundred students continued staring at him.

He looked up.

“What?”

The Great Hall broke into applause once more.

Regulus closed his eyes.

Dumbledore, still standing upon the stage, smiled with deep satisfaction.

Then his gaze began travelling across the tables again.

Every student abruptly sat down.

Sirius pulled the pole out of the floor and shoved it underneath the Gryffindor table.

James ducked behind Remus.

Peter attempted to hide behind James.

Lily lowered her head.

Mary dragged Marlene off the bench.

Alice and Frank faced their plates.

Fabian and Gideon threw the breadsticks away.

Barty slid beneath the Slytherin table.

Evan followed him without hesitation.

Pandora smiled serenely.

Dorcas hid behind her goblet.

Regulus alone continued eating, fringe once again arranged precisely over the pale streak, expression calm and completely innocent.

Dumbledore’s eyes settled upon Sirius.

The spotlight snapped on.

Sirius froze.

Across the hall, Regulus slowly looked up.

A smile spread across his face.

It was sharp, bright and merciless.

Mepad is basically JD, after seeing the amount of turmoil and trying to give everyone free therapy taco kidnaps him then they get close and then she opens up and he sees how bad the mental impact is and remembers how it's being widely broadcasted. He then decides mercy kill is the best way to go. Mp4 implied dead too but idk if I want that canon in the au.

Sorry if this is bad I just fainted