Regulus was going to fucking kill himself.
No, wait. He was going to fucking kill Barty, then Bella, then himself. Maybe Sirius and Mother, while he was at it, too.
“Oh, Merlin,” Barty whispered beside him, fidgeting in his seat.
What the fuck? Regulus thought to himself.
“—why she lets fucking vermin into this house. Regulus. You’re better than this, you do know that, yes? Why you insist on befriending those unbefitting of your station is beyond me. Why he—” here, Bella gestured towards Barty with a careless hand, and—
“Can I kiss you?” Barty suddenly interrupted.
What the fuck.
“No,” Bella said smoothly, prim like her rant hadn’t been cut off. She deigned to glance at him, calculating in a way Regulus knew Barty could never measure up to. “But come find me in a few years. We’ll see.”
Barty literally fucking moaned, and Bella fucking giggled, and Regulus really, really wanted to fucking die.