Not letting his disappointment show, Regulus Black glanced at the Gryffindor table.  Sirius was rubbing his chin with his knuckle, the sign that Mother had spies about.  Not really a surprise.  Regulus strode to the green-and silver table and not the blue-and-bronze one that they had been hoping for.  He could pretend to be the perfect Black Heir.  He was practiced at it.