Who: Barty Crouch Jr. & Regulus Black. Where: 12 Grimmauld Place. When: Friday, 23rd May; late night, after Pepper's post. What: Barty and Regulus are Just Friends. Really. Watch them prove it with codependency and Calming Draughts. Rating: A very tame PG-13. Status: Complete log!
Barty had several methods of dealing with anxiety -- he had to have them, with the sort of temperament he had. Mother called him 'excitable,' Father called him 'ridiculous,' Grandfather called him 'a nervous wreck,' Winky called him 'a very sensitive boy' -- but, however it was colored, the problem at hand remained quite the same: for better or for worse, Barty was easily affected by outside events, especially bad ones. Whatever it was that had transpired on Pepper's journal post about sexual intercourse? That travesty had been both a supremely wretched experience and a supremely affecting one. Once Barty had obtained an approval from Regulus, saying that he could come over, he closed his journal and, due partly to the ink-and-parchment fit that he had just thrown at Regulus and partly to how his hands had started shaking, he was immensely grateful, once again, for the Calming Draughts that Mum kept stocked in the house.
After packing a small bag with his journal, a spare set of clothes in preparation for the highly likely event that he wound up staying at Grimmauld Place all night, and three phials of Calming Draught, just in case, Barty quickly saw to setting up Mother's morning potions, so that the job of administering them would be easier for Winky. He then saw to it that she knew exactly what to do, which, blissfully, did not take that long, given that she was quite knowledgeable of the procedure. With everything set at home, Barty wandered outside and forced himself to focus enough to Apparate to Grimmauld Place, where he went up the stairs as quickly as possible and rapped desperately on the door. Even though he knew very well that it was hardly taking any time at all, it still felt as though he were waiting a lifetime for Kreacher to let him in -- but, finally, the elf opened the door and Barty gave him a relieved, but still unquiet, smile. Now Kreacher just had to take him to Regulus and Barty could start the long process of attempting to calm down from this lunacy.
Regulus's mind was still whirling from the journal entry written by Octavius Pepper regarding sexual intercourse and everything that came as a result, conversation-wise. What stood out the most in his mind, however, was not the incessant accusations that he was a homosexual -- something that would normally be the center of his distress -- but rather a conversation with Sirius that he knew he shouldn't have had in the first place...just as any conversation with Sirius was one that should not have had in the first place; but this one...this conversation ended in something that sounded not-so-vaguely like a threat, and he was not sure what to think of it. This was by far not the first time Regulus had said something along the lines of the family moving on from Sirius's abandonment, but never before had Sirius threatened him for it.
And he could not exactly bring it up because then he would have to admit that he allowed a private conversation with Sirius go on long enough to get to the point, which would suggest private conversations between them were not as out of the question as Regulus liked for people to believe.
But that was not to be thought about right now. Barty was coming over, and they were going to calm themselves down from the horror of it all. Because they did not have inappropriate feelings for one another.
Opting to wait in the ground level parlour, within sight of Grimmauld Place's door, he was quite immediately aware when his friend arrived; waiting up on his room on the top did not seem necessary for Barty and when Kreacher opened the door and led the other boy in, Regulus stood and gave a nod of greeting.
Although Regulus seemed to have the art of keeping his natural, emotional reactions to things contained for the moment, Barty was rather far beyond being able to do so -- he could tell. Not only was he seeing all manner of dust, and filth, and other things that wouldn't be anywhere near any of the surfaces in Grimmauld Place, but he was filled with an overwhelming sensation that, even if Regulus and Kreacher would have allowed him to scrub and clean everything until he was certain that it was spotless, it would do no good at all to clean things. He had only felt this way twice before; the first time had been when Regulus had made Prefect and Barty had been forced to endure a sprawling rant from his father about how he had let That Black Boy steal Prefect from him, and the second had been on the most recent Christmas, right after he and Grandfather had had to take Mother to Saint Mungo's with her illness that, by Father's estimation, "hadn't needed medical attention." As soon as Barty saw Regulus, he grinned with a rather desperate hopefulness. Yes. Regulus was there. And now things would be better, wouldn't they? He had Regulus and Calming Draughts and things were going to be better.
"Thank you," he sighed, almost too relieved for the positive effect that he knew Regulus would have on the situation. "...For allowing me to come over, I mean, and especially at such an hour, and then..." Almost instinctively, Barty's grip on the shoulder strap of his bag tightened. "...Some tea, I think? I mean, ...just that... all things considered, I think that, perhaps, some tea would be a ... I just -- suffice to say... we could use some tea, I think?"
"It's quite all right," Regulus said reassuringly, patting Barty on the shoulder. "Tea is an excellent idea, yes -- shall we go up to my room? Did you bring anything brewed? If not, I know for certain Kreacher would not mind making some for us." He could see that Barty had brought a bag, so the chances the tea had been pre-prepared were fairly high, but he wished to ease his friend's nerves; his own anxiety and distress about the events had not completely eased, even if the specifics of the issue had changed, and he could tell by the fractured sentences that his friend was still feeling very wound. It would be relaxing to separate themselves from the journaling world, to sip tea and enjoy each other's company in a non-shady way, no matter what that Quinn girl insisted. She also insisted he did Muggle drugs and that he did not actually exist, so she was hardly a reliable source.
"Nothing brewed, no," Barty replied, shaking his head. Oh, Merlin -- should he have brought the tea? He should have thought ahead and made the tea himself -- there would have been enough time for it to have brewed while he'd been getting everything else ready, why hadn't he thought to do that? Merlin, it would have been so much easier if he had just thought ahead and made it, but... but hopefully Regulus was correct in saying that Kreacher would not mind making the tea for them. Barty was somewhat less than fond of imposing on Kreacher. After all, he was not just any House Elf; he was Regulus's House Elf, and this earned him special distinction. But of course Regulus was correct. Barty knew quite well that his best friend was fallible, but he knew Kreacher well enough to say that Kreacher wouldn't mind... didn't he? "I just... I brought a few things -- my journal, though we should probably... I doubt that having them right now is the best idea. And then I have clothes, just in... just in case, and then -- then I have..." Barty pursed his lips and paused, taking one of the phials of the Calming Draught out of the bag and holding it up. "...For the tea," he explained shakily.
"Don't worry about it -- just come on," Regulus said matter-of-factly, leading Barty up the stairs (and past the elf-heads he had refused to look at more than necessary ever since he was roughly four years old), catching Kreacher standing outside one of the doors. "Kreacher, would you mind brewing some tea for Barty and myself?" he asked kindly, receiving a quite typically enthusiastic and positive response. His gratefulness for such a pleasant elf momentarily banished his thoughts of Sirius as he and Barty scaled the stairs up to the fourth floor -- the top floor -- where his bedroom, along with the master bedroom and Sirius's old room, was located. There were few people he could trust, but no matter how dismissively others (including his own family, as much as he would hate to admit) treated house-elves, he was comforted that at least Barty could understand his affection.
When they arrived at his door, he cast the unlocking spells and opened the door to let Barty in. He knew there was truly no reason to lock it. The only people in his home were himself, his parents, and Kreacher, but he enjoyed the security of closing off his space, and the force of habit developed over the years held fast and strong, even without Sirius around to require it.
Sirius. Not around. Being wretched, as always, but with that threat. It was suddenly back in his mind, and he let out a soft huff before following Barty inside.
Barty had the same way of dealing with the elf-heads that Regulus did: ignore them as much as he possibly could. While he certainly understood the history behind them, and while he could certainly appreciate said history, he was quite unable to look at the elf-heads without thinking of Winky and Kreacher, which made the sight of the elf-heads more than a little bit nauseating. It wasn't normal to be so close to a House Elf, or so Barty heard quite frequently from his grandfather, but... Winky was hardly just a House Elf. Nevertheless, reflecting on the matter was hardly helping anything; Regulus, and taking a break from the journals, and drinking Calming Draught-laced tea would help, though, and, in nearly perfect silence, Barty followed Regulus up the stairs to his room. He didn't even get impatient while Regulus undid the spell locks on the door -- even without his disgrace of an older brother around to foul things up, the need for personal security was one that Barty understood quite well. Only Winky knew how to undo the locks he kept on his own bedroom door, and that was because he had felt bad for her after she had needed to ask him to let her in too many times.
Although there was much on Barty's mind, he had not genuinely known where to begin with it all. The better part of it was rather jumbled up, at this point, and the overall effect was that his mind felt rather blank, despite the sheer amount of activity going on within its confines. This, Barty found particularly worrisome. Luckily, though, he didn't need to find a place to begin. Regulus's huff was enough to merit a concerned (but still visibly anxious) smile and a soft inquiry of, "Are you well? Or... well enough given... everything about tonight?"
"I'm well enough," he answered with a grim smile, closing the door behind them once again, leaving it momentarily unlocked for Kreacher's sake. He did not wish to admit to Barty that he had taken part in another 'illegal' conversation with his brother under wards, and what had happened tonight in regard to those baseless and ridiculous accusations about their sexuality -- that was more than enough for his friend to worry about tonight. Sirius might not even do anything at all; really, what could he do? Regulus never left. "Feel free to sit down, of course."
As much as Barty liked to think that Regulus told him absolutely everything that went on for him, the truth was undeniable: worrying about Sirius, and Regulus talking to Sirius, and any repercussions that could have come from Regulus's talking to Sirius, and -- yes, it was more than what Barty needed to be worrying about right now. His smile was still quite strained as he took Regulus's permission to sit down and sat lightly on the bed, attempting as best he could not to make a mess of the sheets. Or of his clothes, which he was fumblingly grasping at without thinking of it. "They are utterly ludicrous, Regulus," Barty sighed, his voice picking up a slight, aggravated whine. "I mean... Pepper, I could at least think to forgive, as, putting aside the awkward nature of thanking someone with whom you have had such... aggressive dealings in the past, he at least stood up for us -- but the rest of them..." Barty trailed off, gnawing lightly on his lower lip in agitation.
"...Proceeded to feed off of each other and laugh at our expense," Regulus finished with a note of bitterness in his voice. His own personal dealings with Octavius Pepper had never been of a pleasant nature, really. Not only did the man mock his dear cousin Cissa, but he also sold out Regulus and Evan's mission which cased a wretched snowball effect of failure and mocking, and it was terrible to even think about. So they destroyed his flat with gigantic self-multiplying rats. It was lovely. But that wasn't the point, as, strangely enough, he actually defended them against that batty Quinn girl. "I find it troubling that they can find nothing more productive to do with their time than have inappropriate conversations and throw around libel as if it is nothing."
"Well, can we honestly expect anything better from them?" Barty retorted before he had even considered the words he rather spewed out. Really, it was increasingly obvious, to him, at least, why he and Regulus needed to avoid responding to the riff-raff of their age group. Beyond the directly affecting motivation of not angering Mister Lestrange, all they wound up with for making conversation was a mess comprised of great anxiety, immense discomfort, headaches, shaking hands, the desperate feeling that nothing was going to go right ever at all, nervous tension, and countless other things that Barty knew and currently dealt with, but had no interest in naming, at the present moment. "They are pathetic, after all -- if they find sexual intercourse to be amusing, and make light out of dreadfully serious topics, and see fit to commit libel just because the two of us happen to be best friends, and... and -- and teacups! Teacups, Regulus!"
"Teacups -- I just don't, Barty, I do not even know how that works, but I don't want to, and speaking about abomination like it's okay, and -- accusing us. Of that. Imagine if our parents could have seen that...no, don't imagine it, actually." Regulus pressed his lips together and let out another huff of air. "I don't see why they have to project their perverted fantasies onto us..." It made it so difficult to keep his mouth shut. He did not enjoy speaking to them, but how could he just sit back and allow his reputation to be tarnished?
Barty swallowed thickly and nodded at the mere mention of his and Regulus's parents, and the thought that they could have seen the travesty on Pepper's journal made him feel as though someone had dropped lead into his stomach. "My father..." he started weakly, pausing briefly to consider whether he could actually bring himself to finish the thought. He had been almost uncharacteristically honest with Pepper when he had made the comment that he didn't want his father reading the string of comments about homosexual intercourse. "...As though my father really needs one more thing to disapprove of in me. I don't doubt that my mother's heart would be broken if the allegations were anywhere close to being true, which she blissfully knows that they aren't, but such needless repetition of them would hardly be good for her, and then my father -- Merlin, he would probably fabricate some so-called 'good reason' to search my bedroom for any indication that anything that wretched girl said was true, and then he would likely accuse me of shaming him for putting myself in the position where people could even suspect anything like that -- and never even mind the fact that he still refuses to accept that we're friends, and..." Barty cut himself off abruptly, pursing his lips and rather sharply aware of the fact that he was rambling incessantly when Regulus hardly deserved to be on the receiving end of such shenanigans.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't mean to just -- I hardly intended to go off like that -- I'm sorry, I just -- this whole situation is incredibly vexing."
"No, it's alright," Regulus said, shaking his head. "It is vexing, and you are permitted to say so. It's just...Merlin, if my parents saw that, I would either be married by morning or disowned, I imagine," he admitted with a subtly pained expression. It was not a subject he liked to discuss, this disowning bit, but it felt like such a real and possible and wretched possibility that he could not keep the mild terror from his mind. He was not certain his parents would understand it could not possibly be true... though, luckily enough, he could assume a hasty marriage to prove it wrong would be a first attempt, considering he was the only male heir the family had left. Quite likely the only thing he could could consider to be a positive side affect to the terrible losses their family had faced in that realm.
Regulus knitted his eyebrows together before continuing, "That is such a serious accusation -- do these people even realise how serious it is? What could happen?" Although there had been no intention to work himself up once again (after all, had he not just been distracted with certain threats), but suddenly his mind had synced with Barty's once again, the libel and slander becoming suitably drastic within a matter of minutes.
"I severely doubt it," Barty sighed heatedly, shaking his head. Of course Sirius should have understood how serious it was to accuse Barty and Regulus of being homosexuals, but, given that he was a family-disowning Blood Traitor who kept company with the likes of James Potter (who, despite having stood up for Barty in the face of Pepper's wrath, was still a wretched example of humanity, let alone of Wizarding kind or Pureblood). There was hardly the shadow of a doubt in Barty's mind that Sirius understood the gravity of the discussion, but that he was purposefully exploiting it to bother Regulus and Barty. "After all, their families are the sort that spawn such aggravating exampled of young Witches and Wizards -- and they are so... tolerant of Muggleborns, when they don't deserve to be where they are allowed to be by the Ministry, and, and -- and they count amongst their ranks such filth as Agnes O'Hare and Mundungus Fletcher, and -- comprehending how disgraceful and perverted homosexuality is, and how awful it is to accuse us of it... it's beyond their capacities."
"They thrive on impropriety and making things as terrible for other people as they can possibly manage," Regulus said with an edged frown in his voice. "It would probably bring them unending joy to get us disowned, especially over something that is not even true." He knew he could name quite a few people who would garner the truest happiness from his own suffering, and what better way to do it than risk his isolation from his own family? Granted, his family could not read it, but that was not the point at all. He recalled McKinnon accusing him of it one time -- that time she stole his library book -- and he failed to see how they could possibly justify it when he was clearly going to get married to a female and have heirs, and you could not do that if you were a homosexual.
Whether or not their families could read it was so far from the point that Barty wanted nothing more than to just stop considering it as a possibility, but, unfortunately, there was no help for that just yet. He was calming down somewhat through just talking about this with Regulus, who was easily the person with the best understanding of how Barty felt at the moment, but, presently, Barty had rather surrendered proper control of his thoughts. "I don't want to be disowned," he thought aloud, in a very small voice that was a few notes higher than he usually spoke. From a technical standpoint, Barty was genuinely unsure of how his father would deal with homosexuality, seeing as, on the one hand, it was disgraceful and would have to be removed from the family, lest it bring shame on everyone -- but, on the other, it could easily look just as awful for the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to disown his only son -- but, then, one of them had to be worth less shame than the other, and... it was all terribly confusing. "They're so vile," he sighed agitatedly. It was just a pity that seeking revenge likely would have made Mister Lestrange upset with him and Regulus. Again.
"They are, horrifically so. And we cannot even do a thing about it. Technically, we should not have spoken to them at all, but that does not make it fair," Regulus said with a subtle fuss peeking out in his voice -- it was only Barty, after all. And he was beginning to wish he had simply passed on, leaving the entry of Octavius Pepper out of his mind, rather than caving and deigning to respond...but there was nothing to be done now. Perhaps the filth would grow bored with taunting them and let the whole 'homosexuality' accusation pass. Maybe.
Barty shook his head and sighed dispiritedly at the mention of the fact that they should not have spoken to Pepper, Quinn, Sirius Black, James Potter, and the rest of that riff-raff in the first place. Of course he had known that beforehand -- what on Earth had he been thinking, replying in the first place? He knew better, or he was supposed to know better, anyway. He'd managed to keep a civil hand on his quill when he had exchanged comments with Mundungus Fletcher, after all -- albeit under somewhat different circumstances, as Fletcher at least had recompense in the form of books to offer after he had made Barty suffer through his fractured sentences, atrocious spelling, and nauseating syntax. Differing circumstances aside, though, Barty had managed to keep from outright insulting the nauseating little piece of filth, so why had he nearly snapped when faced with that ludicrous Quinn girl? "At least... I just," he sighed, pausing as he attempted to make sense of his thoughts. Physically, he was calming down quite nicely, but his thoughts had far from caught up with his body. "I mean, it is not as though Pepper is particularly trustworthy, but... at least, I rather doubt that this will get to our parents from him. He is -- my father is still his boss and could still have him sacked over a shenanigan such as this. And, if our parents hear it from anyone else, well... look at who was involved with that debacle. With a few exceptions, like Evan and Aquila and Severus, there was hardly anyone credible in those comments, and... and I should hope that Evan and Aquila and Severus would have the good sense to know that Quinn is insane and not tell our parents."
"I should hope they do not," Regulus said, gently crinkling his nose. He highly doubted they would believe such idiocy, and even if they did, he wished to believe they would not tattle to the adults. They had the forces of their foes' untrustworthiness on their side, so not all was lost in the matter, even if the worst occurred -- but really it wasn't even true.
Before Regulus could carry on with anything else, he heard the soft creaking of his opening door, and Kreacher poked his head in, soon followed by the rest of his body and a tray of tea.
"Tea for Master Regulus, and for Master Barty." The tray was lifted up, and Regulus accepted the offering, giving a grateful nod to the elf in return. There were even small scones on tiny plates if they wished for a snack with their tea.
"Thank you, Kreacher." Regulus's voice had shifted significantly, not wishing to take his irritation out on the elf, but when Kreacher bowed, turned, and left, he could not help but sigh at how unfortunate it was that everyone was always tormenting them, the reprieve from such thoughts not lasting very long at all. "At least we have tea now."
Yes. At least they had tea now. "Thank you, Kreacher," Barty called after the departing elf, smiling a very relieved smile at the very thought of the fact that they had tea now. Honestly, he thought, it wasn't something to get so worked up about, but tea was a lovely, calming thing to have -- and of course Calming Draughts were calming. That was their entire purpose. The only failing that Barty saw with Calming Draughts was that they were infinitely better when mixed in drinks, but that hardly mattered, all things considered. After all -- there was tea to put them in, and, since Barty had the Calming Draughts, he was obviously the one who was meant to put them in the tea. Without waiting for Regulus's approval, Barty took all three phials out of his bag and left his seat on the bed. Working quickly, but carefully, he took the corks out of the phial and the cover off the teapot, and he poured the contents of all three phials into the tea. With that done, he put the cover back on the teapot and gave Regulus a small smile, but said nothing before returning to Regulus's bed. He had told Regulus before that he had brought Calming Draughts for the tea, so it was hardly as though adding them to the tea was a surprise... this was the ideal case, anyway.
Regulus was struck with a small sense of alarm when all three phials were poured in, as he no longer felt that stressed (talking and venting and the promise of teas and scones helped, after all), but it did not strike him particularly troublesome, as they could certainly use the guarantee of calmness, given the track record for reacting to the scandalous talk of the journals, and being pre-stressed did not help at all. They had caused enough damage for the evening, and in their quest for a serene disposition, they would relax in the safety of Regulus's home and see to it that the draught had calmed any remaining fire on the matter of libel against them.
After taking one of the cups for himself and pouring a bit of the tea into it, Regulus took a polite drink -- he was uncertain if it was the psychological fact that he expected to be calm, or if it was the concentration, his posture became less rigid as the anxiety softened its edge. Potions were wonderful things.
Barty rather quickly followed Regulus's example, pouring a bit of tea into the remaining cup and taking a well-deserved drink from it. Naturally, he was careful to maintain politeness and not to drink too deeply on the first sip, but it was rather difficult to resist the allure of Calming Draught-laced tea -- and he could tell as soon as his muscles relaxed and the tension in his back and shoulders dissipated that he had been completely right in pouring all three phials into the tea. Perhaps it was a bit much -- at least, he hadn't ever put this much Calming Draught into anything before -- and perhaps it was a bit unwise to have done so without first considering the potential effects of having that much concentrated Calming Draught at once, but... it was necessary, was it not? He had calmed down, somewhat, simply by being at Grimmauld Place with Regulus, but his mind had yet to catch up with his body on that note, and getting a little assistance from a potion was hardly illegal. As Barty took another sip of tea, though, his mind slowly began to calm down and he was able to give Regulus a more genuine, less strained and desperate smile. Yes. Yes, this had been the best course of action.
"Scone?" Regulus asked, motioning to the small tea tray. Kreacher was a superb cook, and Regulus knew the scones to be no exception, even without a taste for himself. Taking another drink from his cup, he scooted to the head of the bed so as to lean back against the wall. The comfort of his own room decreased the need to be relentlessly straight-backed, and with the soothing effects of a potion, he saw no reason to be uncomfortable.
"The Calming Draught was a good decision," he commented to his friend, lifting his cup very little. The dose did seem to be an awful lot, but it could pose no danger to them while they were here and safe.
Perhaps it was a silly thing to get so happy about, but Barty's smile grew into a genuine grin when Regulus gave his vocal approval on the idea of adding Calming Draught to the tea. "I am glad you think so," he commented pleasantly. "I certainly did." Not that there was really anything to be done about it now, Barty had already added the Calming Draughts now. At least the Calming Draught made everything easier to handle -- even if Regulus had disapproved of adding it to the tea, it likely wouldn't have fazed Barty, or it would not have fazed him that much. Placidly looking at Regulus, Barty asked, "May I join you?" And pointed at the wall. It occurred to him that asking was not particularly necessary, but it also seemed like a good idea. Just in case Regulus wanted personal space.
Regulus nodded, scooting a bit to make sure there was proper room. Barty was his best friend, and therefore permitted to be comfortable, of course. Additionally, Regulus did not have sitting areas around the room, and his room was a private space as opposed to a public one, such as the parlour or even the library, and he did not feel compelled to sit in various areas of his room...so frankly, it would be an unnecessary use of the space.
Taking another sip of his tea, he stretched out his legs in front of him. "How are your NEWT preparations coming? It's almost June..." Regulus asked, trailing off a bit to take a bite of a scone. Their NEWT examinations were sneaking up on them, and he only hoped he had studied enough. Granted, most every non-Death Eater-related moment was spent buried in books, but still.
With the go-ahead from Regulus, Barty scooted back to the head of the bed, making sure not to spill any of his tea. That would have been quite a mess and, at the moment, Barty was not quite sure whether or not he would have been able to properly attend to cleaning it up. Messes were bothersome, to be certain, and they were among the things that bothered Barty the most in the world, but... he was quite calm. Quite calm, indeed.
Pensively, Barty took another sip of tea. "I believe they are going well," he replied warmly, nodding his head without honestly knowing why he felt the need to do so. Honestly, he did spend a good deal of time, when he wasn't dedicating his time to the Death Eaters, caring for Mum or something in a similar vein, but Barty was far from being behind in his studies. "It is rather helpful when one grows accustomed to insomnia, I think," he commented. "Increases the number of available hours in the day, at any rate." And, given how Barty had been practicing a form of self-inflicted insomnia since his first year, he had grown quite accustomed to it and could function quite well with very little sleep. It was all a matter of being in the right frame of mind, really. ...Not that using Calming Draughts to escape that frame of mind once in a while wasn't entirely called for. Because this? Right now? It was entirely called for.
"I am glad to hear it. It is rather strange to be out of school but still in preparation for these exams -- I do hope we do well, though I cannot think of any real use I shall have for them in the future, considering I require no occupation. I have no requirements to meet...but I need to know the magic, anyway, if I am to be of use, and that is reason enough to continue learning, even after leaving the walls of Hogwarts..." There were occasional moments in which Regulus wondered if it would have just been better to stay in school for a few months and thus avoid everything that had gone wrong...but they were still helping the Cause -- they had to be because they had left school for this, and he did not like to think that he could have possibility made a bad call on pulling out early.
Because Regulus Black did not make bad calls. Of course not.
Barty nodded contemplatively and, keeping a strong hand to keep his tea from spilling, scooted a little bit closer to Regulus. He certainly didn't mean to infringe upon his best friend's personal space, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it seemed to him as though Regulus needed a proper show of support from someone -- and who better than his best friend? True enough, Barty tried to make sure, since his stunning show of idiocy in fifth year, that he always said what he meant with Regulus, and that what he meant wasn't potentially harmful to Regulus's self-image. Regulus needed encouragement in order to properly reach his full potential, and Barty tried to provide it. ...But words were only worth so much, in the long run. It was in action that someone's true meaning came out. With a small, sympathetic sigh, Barty took a short sip of tea and gave Regulus a light, (hopefully) reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"Of course we will do well," he said in a soothing, even voice. "We are both more than capable, and we have both worked hard -- honestly, I think we work ourselves harder than any of our professors did, especially not Slughorn. You needn't worry, Regulus, at least not too much. I would put money on your ability to out-perform everyone else in our year, and I have faith in myself to do well." He had to do well, after all. He could not abide by failure on his part, and Father would have abode by it even less.
"Indeed, we don't have the other classmates to worry about, or any pace set by the professors...only our own hard work and dedication, which we have an abundance of," Regulus said, nodding and leaning back into the pillows with a near limpness. "We are bright... and we have been forced to use at least a portion of such things in a practical, real dueling sense... not to mention countless hours of scouring the texts together and apart..." Reviewing all the ways in which they had successfully prepared was comforting; something that he could undoubtedly control. He could set that schedule and study from dawn until dusk. He could read and practice, read and practice, read and practice. That would never bring him failure, and which drilling came success. He could show his parents that he did not even need the constant hovering of a professor to be a successful student and serve the Dark Lord. Giving Barty a rare smile, Regulus nodded. "If we keep up our stringent study schedule, we have nothing to fear. We are more than capable..."
"Far more than capable," Barty agreed, nodding placidly. Smiling back at Regulus's smile, Barty looked down at the cup of tea in his hand and was rather put out to find that his cup was distressingly empty. Or, it would have been distressingly empty, had anything been able to properly distress Barty, at present. Adding three phials of the potion to the tea had certainly proved to be quite useful, as Barty was getting to be quite calm, which had been quite the point of this venture. Blissfully, Barty poured himself another cup of tea and took a deep drink; he hardly noticed that he'd drunk half the cup until he came up for air and found that there was a rather suspicious lack of tea where there should have been tea. ...Huh. How interesting. "If nothing else," he theorized pensively, "we will at least best the rest of our year in Defense, if not Charms and Potions as well. ...I'm quite confident about Arithmancy, besides those, though... I feel as though I have the best grasp of Ancient Runes that I could hope to have, but I still... if I have a weakness, I think it would be that subject."
"And I am slightly more confident in Ancient Runes than I am in Arithmancy, but Defense should be more than easy enough for us. We have taken on Aurors, and if that does not call for Defense -- Dark Arts or not -- I do not know what would. If not that, then our mentors have trained us more than well enough, making up for that pesky new-professor-every-year we have always suffered..." Bringing his teacup to his lips once again and taking a deeper drink than his previous sips, he drained the rest of the Calming Draught-laced liquid. "I do so love being better than other people... don't you agree?" he asked, pouring the last bit of tea into his cup.
Barty nodded slowly, smiling broadly as he listened to Regulus's words and found himself quite agreeing with them. "I never could deal with that properly," he commented with a bit of a sigh. "The constant switching of professors, I mean. It was just so... I mean, it was jarring, it was vexing, it was... I mean, it was just terribly vexing. How are we meant to learn with such shenanigans going on?" Barty paused and took another sip of tea, feeling the momentary tension he'd given himself just ebb out as he took in more Calming Draught. He considered things for a brief moment before giving Regulus the softest, most genuine smile that he'd managed in a long while, let alone all night. "At least we are better than the rest of them -- which I do quite enjoy, yes. We are entitled to enjoy that feeling, being better than other people, and... after the instruction that we have received from our mentors? ...It will be so lovely to take these exams, show our mastery once and for all, and just... be done and on to better things."
"How strange it will be to have no more official school work to be done," Regulus began. "We will have mastered what there is to master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, excelling at the basic needs we shall supposedly have in every day life. From NEWTs on, our learning will... still be self-conducted, but also more dependent than ever on our growing success as followers of the Dark Lord and purifiers of the wizarding race, hmm?" Polishing off the last bit of his tea, Regulus sunk back into the pillows, feeling far too relaxed to do much moving at all. He had almost managed to forget what being vexed felt like. How pleasant.
Feeling quite peaceful indeed, Barty downed the rest of his tea and followed Regulus's example of leaning back into the pillows. Normally, Barty was not particularly fond of feeling tired in any bedroom but his own, but he hardly minded, at the moment, and it looked as though Regulus felt quite similarly to how Barty did. That, really, was more cheering than actually feeling calm for the first time in... longer than Barty really cared to remember. Regulus suffered more often than he did, and it just wasn't right to abide by the suffering of one's best friend without doing a single thing to aid the process. "Of course it will be strange," Barty commented lightly, scooting a little closer to Regulus without really recognizing that he was doing so. "Strange, and different, but... so much better, in its own right. We will no longer have tedious curricula to follow, but we will be able to select exactly what we want to learn -- well, beyond that which Madame Lestrange and Mister Rosier mean to teach us, of course, but... I think we can both agree that Divination is rubbish, but... I feel very good about the coming future, Regulus."
"I do, too. With time, we are going to prove just how hard we are willing to work and how competent we can be. Not all of our comrades are particularly bright, so showing our capacity to learn in both the academic sense as well as our recent behavioural changes... showing that should shed us in a nice light, I believe, and that is what we would like... a few times in which we did not reach our potential -- such things are terrible, but we have learned. We enjoy learning. Learning is wondrous." He vaguely acknowledged the rambling nature of his words, but he could not bring himself to care with any particular intensity. The thought of his cousin Bella and her husband Rodolphus, and then his mentor, Evan's father, and then his parents and Cissa and Lucius and everyone -- the thought of once again leaving no doubt of his personal worth and competence, that was an appealing thought for him.
It was an appealing thought for Barty as well -- success was a wonderful feeling and recognition for being successful was equally wonderful. Maybe Barty's so-called father could not recognize how wonderful Barty's various successes were -- besides, of course, those that made the man look good, as Barty's OWLs had done after fifth year -- but other people understood. Regulus understood, for instance. Madame and Mister Lestrange understood, as did, Barty presumed, Mister Rosier. And Severus certainly understood, even though Barty was rather suspicious of the tone the other boy had taken when they spoke of murder and torture. Ah, well. Severus was still an enjoyable, reasonable person. His supposed tone was probably just in Barty's head. "We have not been achieving our full potential, no," Barty agreed softly, nudging another bit closer to Regulus and accidentally knocking their arms together. "But naturally we have learned. We will continue to learn. Because we are naturally inclined towards being the best -- and we will be the best. We are meant for great things, and we will achieve them."
"That's right," Regulus responded pleasantly, paying no mind to the arm bump. "We are not afraid to learn... and because of that, our mistakes will be ultimately overlooked in favour of our certain current and future successes." How comforting thoughts of the future were -- though it was likely the three phials of Calming Draught had some sway in his attitude at the given moment. He liked that he and Barty were so often in agreement. He loved it when people agreed with him. It made agreeing with them even more pleasant than when he was agreeing simply for the sake of agreeing...
"Our mistakes could even be seen as good things as well," Barty postulated, nodding gently as he spoke. "Not because they, on their own were spectacular, seeing as the only reason they were spectacular was that they were quite spectacular failures... but, by failing so spectacularly, we have made it so that we can become the fantastic successes that we are sure to become. It is... adversity and a few bad decisions on our parts inspiring greatness. I mean... I know that it is somewhat backwards, but... well, it made sense to me." He only hoped that it made sense to Regulus as well, especially since he had been rambling far too much for nothing to make sense.
"It makes perfect sense," Regulus said with nod far more relaxed and less tense than normal. He liked explanations that made his and Barty's failures into positive things, because he liked being right. He liked doing things right, and when even doing things wrong was right -- well, how could he ask for a better explanation than that? "I agree entirely with what you are saying, Barty."
"Good," Barty commented gently, giving a nod that was, admittedly, a bit more enthusiastic than was really necessary. It was a bit more forceful than necessary as well, and Barty immediately followed it by wincing slightly and just putting his head back down on the pillow. ...There. Yes. That was much better. His eyelids fluttered a bit as he continued, "It is lovely when people agree with you. ...Some day, Regulus, everyone will agree with us. It will be wonderful."
"It will be wonderful to forget what it's like to have people disagree..." Regulus said with a faraway quality to his voice. "I hope the day comes, soon. There are a good number of people our ideal world could do without in that regard."
"So many people it could do without," Barty agreed with a soft sigh, his voice taking on a similar quality to Regulus's. "Once we are done with our exams and can work more actively on it, it should come much sooner. So many people, and we will make them agree with us... or kill them. I can think of at least two cases -- my father and Quinn, at least -- where murder might just be the best course of action."
"Can we kill Potter too, please?" Regulus asked, stretching out before relaxing once again into the bed. He was not typically one to so flippantly suggest murder, but it felt like such a lovely and simply solution to him. Elimination, it seemed such a fit punishment for the one who so regularly targeted him... or he could just go away, but that didn't seem all that likely either. "He vexes me."
"Of course we can kill Potter," Barty promised, turning his head to give Regulus a small, encouraging smile (well, it was small compared to how largely Barty had been smiling since they had been drinking the tea). Really, Barty didn't have a long list of people he wanted dead; he simply didn't have the time, energy, or patience to care so passionately about too many people. "He vexes me because of how he vexes you, and because of what he did to your family... in encouraging Sirius towards Blood Treason, I mean, and... I mean, it just isn't right to do that to someone's family, especially not yours." Barty sighed again and paused, looking at Regulus as soberly as he could for just a moment. "I would kill him for you now, if I could, you know. You're my very best friend, Regulus."
"You're mine too, Barty," Regulus said in that rare, pleasant voice that seemed to most commonly surface whilst under the influence of some substance or another (the Calming Draught, in this case) -- which made it a very rare voice, indeed. "It's his fault... he ruined us with his meddling. I think I hate him." A furrowed look came onto Regulus's briefly, unable to inflame itself into the typical fury as he shook his head. "But you, I appreciate you. You are a better best friend."
"I do try my best," Barty said sympathetically, which was just as rare for him as a pleasant voice was for Regulus. Barty could affect sympathy quite effectively, but he almost never meant it. He meant it now, though, and he felt the need to show Regulus how much he meant it; he achieved this by shifting his hand so that he could gently slide his fingers between Regulus's and give his friend's hand a reassuring squeeze. "We'll make him pay for meddling, Regulus," he said, his tone oddly sweet for discussing the possible torture and definite murder of another human being. "And we'll be best friends forever. The best kind of best friends, at that."
Even under the influence of three Calming Draught phials, physical hand-squeezing registered foreignly in his mind, but he could not presently work himself into caring too strongly about much of anything. "The best friends who aren't filthy brother-thieving blood traitors... that's a far better kind of best friends. And it is good to make him pay. He typically deserves it." Regulus didn't like him, after all, and that was more than enough reason to be branded an undesirable, in his mind.
Barty didn't let his hand linger around Regulus's for too long; even though his brain was currently more subject to the whims of the Calming Draught than his own whims, he knew well enough that he couldn't just hold Regulus's hand all night. That probably would've been more than enough evidence for all of those ridiculous people to call them abominations, and, as such, he withdrew his hand from Regulus's and kept it to himself. "So do so many of his ilk," Barty sighed. "He deserves it most of all, though. Doing such things to a family is inexcusable."
"I agree entirely... he ought to know better than to interfere in other people's families. Especially my family," Regulus said with something of a little huff. Families were a sacred thing, and they were the Blacks. Inspiring the ire of the Blacks was a deadly thing, and James had a way of almost perpetually inspiring it in Regulus. Who was now conveniently the heir, even if it seemed he was still working to get some people to acknowledge it.
"Especially your family," Barty agreed, nodding more than a bit sycophantically. Honestly, Barty couldn't have cared less about people crossing his own family, as most of the world knew it. As most of the world knew it, his family was his father's will, his father's decisions, and nothing else. Anyone who crossed that was worthy of some begrudging respect, for sheer cheek, if nothing else. Those who crossed the family Barty picked for himself, though -- meaning, his mother and her relations (most notably Persephone), Regulus, and their fellow Death Eaters (most notably Madame and Mister Lestrange) -- anyone who crossed that family deserved the worst fate that one human being was capable of inflicting on another. "We will make him suffer, though. He deserves it, and it will come to him."
"Such a pleasant thing to look forward to..." Regulus said, exhaling slowly and letting his eyes close serenely. "It can only help the quality of our future population to eliminate Potter." Sometimes it was easy to forget that Potter was a Pureblood as well, and sometimes Regulus could not quite decide if it was disgusting or convenient that Potter married a Mudblood. It alleviated any part of his belief system that was against any destruction of pure blood because Potter's spawn would never be pure. He had dirtied his blood... and his personality. That was something that ought to be weeded out at the earliest convenience... certainly... just everything working against him. Wretched Potter.
"It really and truly is," Barty sighed. "He's just... the potential is there, but he insists on squandering it -- and dragging as many people with him as possible. ...But people like him always get what they deserve. And he will not be any different, in the long run. Just... patience..." Although he attempted to keep it down, Barty let out a small yawn after he had finished speaking. That did not make the thoughts of Potter's eventual end any less pleasant, though. People who crossed those who Barty valued were not allowed to meet good ends. Barty would not let them, least of all James Potter.
"Mmhmm" was the only mumbling sound Regulus was able to manage as he struggled to open his eyes and felt a heavy weight pull them back down again. A few more attempts brought no better result, and finally, he conceded to the fact that it was a battle he would not win. Even continued talk of James Potter's demise could not keep him awake, and as the space grew quiet again, Regulus drifted off into an abnormally relaxed sleep.