Kick The Dust Up | Regulus & Lily | 27 September 1977
Regulus had spent the entire meeting hunched over his roll of parchment, scratching down meticulous notes with his quill. His attention was focused on Lily as sharply as he could wield it. Another year back at school, and the decisions they made right at the beginning – however mild the subject matter was – were sure to effect them all right through the spring. He had noticed early on the absence of Remus and James; considered it excruciatingly rude that the two couldn’t even bother to turn up for part of the meeting. Just one more instance of the group acting particularly strange. He made a mental note to mull it over later.
The prefect position certainly wasn’t the most exciting, especially given his place on the Quidditch Team and amongst the Death Eaters, but it was his. It was something to be proud of, one more example to set him apart from – above – his estranged brother. Regulus had little idea how much he had earned the Prefect badge on his own merit, or whether other, more established wizards had used their influence in his favor. Nevertheless, he had been determined ever since receiving that letter just over a year ago to prove his competence to them all. Even when he had no choice to adhere to nepotism, he would not fall victim to it.
He was finishing up the last of his notes when he heard Lily’s voice above the bustle of people packing up to leave. Almost as if startled, he snapped his head up to look at her, eyes wide as he mentally scrambled to recover his train of thought. He rolled up the bit of parchment and then shoved it into his robe pocket along with his quill, before pushing himself to his feet and padding over to her.
“Good meeting, huh? This should be a good year, I think?”
His sentences were definitively questions, his hands still lingering in his robe pockets. Could I have a quick word sounded too much like an authority – a good British authority, with concerns, most likely about him, that should not be stated too directly.
The apprehension that lingered within the hesitant syllables that emerged from the dark haired Slytherin’s mouth went unnoticed by the woman, too preoccupied with the movement of another figure clad in emerald embroidered robes. Regulus’ questions took a moment to register with her, the authoritative stance she had subconsciously taken relaxed as soon as they did. Lily was unable to contain the innocent “You really think so?” that slipped from her lips, hand in hand with a bout of nervous laughter. “I mean, I thought it went rather well but with James not here I’m concerned I might have b- Nevermind. I’m babbling. Please, sit down, you’re not in trouble,” the clarification coming once she noticed the hesitant expression the man donned, “I just want to talk.”
“Tea?” The Gryffindor knew she was not setting up for an intimate gossiping session with her dorm mates, she was also very aware that she was stalling in an attempt to gather the thoughts. The red head moved the kettle she had brought into the classroom with her, heated with a simple spell, and transfiguring a goblet into a second mug: leaving both on a nearer table. “How have you been finding classes?” The inquiry little more than small talk, as she returned to her task of cleaning the blackboard, finishing moments later and abandoning the duster, noting how her efforts now lingered on her hands in the form of white dust particles. Lily allowed herself to find a seat near Regulus, seating herself and only settling once she had found a comfortable position. “And Quidditch?”
Lily made the effort to afford Regulus with her undivided attention while she waited for his answer, endeavouring to ignore the thoughts that nagged at the back of her mind like an eager pup nipping affectionately at their owner’s heels. She had noticed a change in her long-time friend, (former friend, she reminded herself internally), a change that she now realised had begun several years prior when he had initially gotten involved with what her father would have referred to as a ‘bad crowd’. Lily knew that he had been under strain across his school years had insidiously impacted their friendship, culminating in the use of what was, in essence, a racial slur and the end of a friendship. It didn’t mean she hadn’t stopped caring, she hadn’t, it was just that she wasn’t as open as she once was. She occasionally liked to check in, though had to be delicate in her method and well aware that - out of the majority of Severus’ comerades - Regulus was potentially the least likely to throw an unforgivable curse her way.
She had learned to be thankful for small mercies.
