Chapter 22: Confrontations

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Sandy revelled in her sense of accomplishment, a warm satisfaction unfurling within her as she considered her progress with Barty Crouch Junior. Their conversations during their tutoring lessons had been more than mere exchanges; they unravelled that his future self (and also his present) had been wronged and misunderstood. At least, she believed it as such. The threads of their discussions had woven a new perspective. That all he needed was the bare minimum; to be treated with simple human decency.

Admittedly, he had once masqueraded as the formidable Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Alastor Moody, a guise that sent chills through the corridors. It was justifiable to acknowledge, though, that the genuine ex-Auror Moody had also possessed a chilling aura, and Barty had needed to maintain that façade to protect his charade.

In truth, Sandy had only known Barty Crouch Junior through the lens of his history, coloured by the suffering he had endured under Barty Crouch Senior. While this didn't absolve him of his heinous crimes, such as the torment and torture inflicted upon Neville Longbottom's parents, those actions were irrevocably bound to a future timeline. Yet, the specter of his potential future misdeeds lingered, waiting to be rewritten. Sandy was determined to shape that narrative, to ensure that the tragedies of before did not replay.

After a productive tutoring session, she immersed herself in the library, engrossed in her studies for what she estimated had been at least two hours. As the impending dinner hour approached, Sandy decided to make her way to the Great Hall. Lost in her thoughts about her interaction with Barty, she traversed the corridors, her mind tracing the lines of their discourse.

Abruptly, her reverie was shattered as she was forcefully pinned against a cold stone wall. A wand, cold and unyielding, pressed against her throat, and she instinctively reached for her own wand. However, her movement was halted by the intensity of the eyes that bore into hers. "Oh, hi," she quipped, her words oddly casual given the circumstances.

"'Oh, hi'? Is that all you have to say?" Regulus taunted, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. His arm extended over her collarbone, immobilizing her against the wall. Despite his slighter stature, he straightened, even rising onto his toes, as if attempting to augment his intimidation.

"Good afternoon, Regulus Black. How was your day?" To say she was puzzled was an understandment. Had she messed up the charm to fix his hair the other day? Honestly, she was unsure of what was happening at the moment. Still, she decided to take a more peaceful approach, and remain calm. On the inside though, she couldn't help but be worried if she was pushing her luck.

That, in fact, seemed to infuriate him. "Grab your wand. I heard about your duel with Rosier. I know you're good. So, grab it."

"Why?" She pondered, really wanting answers on what was happening. No matter how much she wrecked her mind, Sandy could not find what could she had done wrong to the boy. This is Sirius' brother. Also the first person to find out about Voldemort's horcruxes, with the intent on destroying them. Don't do anything rash. "Did he send you to try to get me to agree to a rematch? 'Cause, I'm not feeling it right now. Sorry."

"No one bloody send me. This is between you and me." He spoke through gritted teeth, slowly stressing his words. "Pick. Up. Your. Wand."

Furrowing her eyebrows, Sandy tilted her head (the best she could under the weight of his arm) to try to figure him out. "So, you want to duel against me then. Why?"

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