Evan was avoiding the Slytherin Common Room. He had been haunting the halls since his return to the castle. There was no desire to be social with the big group of purists. There was too much drama with them—and he was exhausted with it. The Rosier had real life worries to concentrate on. Evan was stressed…he hadn’t eaten all day. His stomach rumbled in protest to this and he headed down towards the dungeons.
The Death Eater had just returned from Romania where he had been recruiting supporters for the Dark Lord. Thoughts of that trip lingered in his mind. His master was not going to be pleased with his success. The giants had not bee receptive to his outreach. Greyback had joined him though to lure the wolves of the world into their cause. He was certain the werewolf was insane with his talks of his own little pack. Snatching and rearing little wolf children just sounded like extremely unpleasant work to him.
His feet led him down the opposite set of stairs than the ones that would take him back towards the Slytherin portions of the dungeons. Following the corridor around until he was tickling the pear in the large painting that blocked his way into the kitchens.
The Rosier had not expected anyone to be inside the room, but his eyes immediately landed on a brunet head. The hair, the shade of the shoulders, the stance, it could only be one person: Regulus. Evan was drawn towards him, his feet leading him without thought as he closed the distance between them. The other boy did not turn around. All of his actions were instinctual. He could not muster up thoughts then anyway. Standing with his torso nearly touching the Black’s back, he lifted his hands to the other boy’s shoulders. Slipping the touch down Reg’s arms, he greeted him softly: “Regulus.” The name rolled off his tongue easily—sweet and familiar. He was happy to have stumbled upon the Black. He had missed him in their time apart.
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