24 August 1978

Regulus had no idea what time it was, but it was dark in the room. He'd like to think it was night, but with the windows closed and curtains pulled, it could be any time. Regulus stared up at the ceiling, his eyes following the same crack that always been there, at leastm as long as he had started to permantley stay at Rabastan Lestrange;s house. He was alone in the room, alone with his thoughts. Regulus sighed through his mouth, his nose being stuffed up due to his common summer allergies. He had heard from Barty earlier, a letter since Regulus no longer spoke to him face to face. Crouch's report on Potter's store was boring, uneventful, and practically mocking of Regulus. Regulus picked up the letter, balled it up, and threw it at the waste basket by the bedroom door, missing. The paper fell onto the floor and Regulus rolled over onto his side, tucking his hands under his cheek.