A Chance Encounter

Living Muggle was harder than it seemed.

Regulus paced at the bus stop, positively itching to turn around, grab his wand, and simply Apparate to the grocery. But then the Ministry would swoop in and demand to know why on earth he was performing magic in a Muggle bus station. With his luck, he'd probably get a personal visit from Lucius Malfoy himself, never mind that the wanker didn't even work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Sighing, Regulus risked a peek at the other poor Muggles waiting for the infernal bus. Nobody interesting, he thought with disgust, just some run-of-the-mill struggling journalists or whatever occupation they'd chosen. Struggling somethings, anyhow.

All around him, there were Muggles walking, driving, waiting, and even (Regulus looked up at this point) flying. At first, walking the streets of Muggle towns had been outright daunting. It was like traveling through some weird alternate dimension where everything was upside-down and things had to be physically possible in order to work. Like those insanely complicated flying machines, at which point Regulus got completely lost in the murky realm of Muggle reasoning.

Of course, most wizards didn't have to fly. They Apparated. Which brought him back to the former point.

A new family arrived at the bus stop. A middle aged, moderately wealthy looking family. A wife with a horsey face, a husband fatter than a troll, and two little boys around the same age, one obviously taking after the father, and the other not looking like he took after anyone at all.

"Mummy, why isn't the bus here yet?" The fatter son demanded. He was awfully whiny, Regulus noted. "I want the bus to be here! Make it come here, Daddy!"

"You know I can't do anything about that. If you don't feel like waiting we should go back to the car, like normal people." The man looked distinctly uncomfortable, which was understandable if he were bending to a child's will and leaving a car in the middle of the city to do it. Stupid Muggle.

"But Daddy I want to go on the bus!" The fat little bugger pouted, which sent the flesh on his face wobbling as he talked. It was one of the funniest things Regulus had seen all morning.

"Vernon, don't be like that. There's no reason our little Dudders shouldn't get what he wants." The horsey woman spoke up. The fat man—Vernon—huffed and sat down on an unoccupied bench, pouting. The bench sagged in the middle; deeply enough that Regulus was afraid it would break. But since that would be even funnier than the little boy's wobbly chins, he didn't say anything.

Nothing like good Slytherin humor to get a wizard going in the mornings.

The fat kid-Dudders? -smirked, which made his face ripple like someone had tossed a boulder into his nose, and sat down next to his father. The benches, Regulus knew, were made for at least nine people to sit on side by side, but with those two giants sitting on it there was barely enough room for the wife and the second son to squeeze on beside them.

It didn't help that the entire family scooted away from the skinny dark-haired boy as soon as he sat down. The boy seemed used to it, which ignited a small spark of anger in Regulus, much to his own surprise. He scowled deeply, and turned away from the wretched family.

The bus pulled up at last, and Regulus boarded it with his scowl firmly in place, making sure to sit as far away from the family as possible.

He'd seen enough of this kind of behavior to guess what was going on in their home. That poor scrawny boy didn't quite remind him of Sirius, but it was close. Regulus couldn't stand it.

He didn't notice the aura of magic until he was almost off the bus, but after he had, it seemed incredible that he hadn't been gasping and shaking the entire ride. The magic was suffocating, like being in the presence of the Dark Lord all over again. Regulus shivered and hurried on toward his grocery.

He never did see the scar.

FIN