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@regulus-wil
Harry Potter A-Z challenge: ozzzymandius vs. ibuzoo
I - Inferi
someone: hey are u alright
me: *laying facedown on the floor* yeah why do you ask
clearing the air
charity-whoisleft:
In the world of uncharted territory, having a boyfriend ignoring her was another first in Charity’s experience folder. With the excitement of Christmas coming up, and thereby the rush of getting presents last minute, alongside the last schoolwork of the semester, it had taken her a little while to notice that Regulus didn’t seem to be around anymore. At first she had chalked it off; despite her daydreams about finding a fireplace to snuggle up in front of while snow fell outside, the reality was that December was as hectic a time as any. Then it had started dawning on her that it might be deliberate.
It had posed a dilemma- to find him and tell him that he could talk to her about anything, or give him space so he could come to her if she wanted, without being pushed. Charity had found herself at a loss. In her family, there was no silent brooding when someone was mad; the Turner side would have intense yelling matched and slam doors before silently making up, while her side would talk it out. In the end, she opted to give him room to breathe, there if he needed her. But it was hard. Once she’d noticed his absence, it was hard to un-notice. Letting him be didn’t stop her from worrying. Was it Christmas coming up? His family? Charity had first-handedly experienced them, and she could easily avoid them should she want to. It was different for him.
Class was painful. Charity had grown so used to the person he was with her, it stung when he kept his distance, barely talking to her. Even sitting right next to him, a part of her kept thinking how much she missed him. Missed her Reg. But she still smiled, not wanting to push him further away, focusing on the tasks at hand. Her heart almost jumped a beat, part excitement part worry, when he silently asked her to stay behind. Charity’s mind wandered as she waited for the room to empty; maybe she should write to Eliza, ask for advice so they could sort this before Christmas break-
Her chain of thought crashed at the last question she had ever expected. Charity frowned up at him. “I think so?” she asked, voice full of question. “I mean, address wise? People know my hometown, it’s not exactly something I keep secret. Why, where’s this coming from?”
Her naivety and innocence towards most was something that drew him to Charity in the first place. That he could still hold his surname and she didn’t look at him any differently than anyone else – she didn’t anticipate typical prejudices behaviours or compare him to the reputation his family had. Now it appeared to be a downfall. She extended the courtesy to his entire family, even when it was not warranted. She extended the courtesy to anyone she encountered, even when it could be dangerous. And for some reason, she tried to see the good in everyone, even when it was not there to find.
It was endearing. But frightening. Especially when it came to those who disapproved so strongly of their relationship. That included his family.
“Where’s this coming from?” Regulus asked her incredulously, raising from his seat in favour of pacing. It seemed easier to think that way, to try and sort out frantic thoughts. People knew her home-town – it narrowed down the search drastically. People would probably know of her or her family. Finding a surname and an address within a smaller population would, no doubt, be an easy enough task for those determined enough. And there was no telling how far his family, particularly Bella, might go to prove a point.
Regulus didn’t look at her as he walked, making his way over to the door to check the corridor outside was clear before closing it and placing a silencing charm around it. Lack of subtlety had been an issue for the two of them, and it had done them no favours. “That woman has got me looking over my shoulder.” Regulus murmured, more to himself than to Charity.
He stopped in his steps then, to regard her. He tried to keep the annoyance at bay, and his feeling towards her was still overwhelming fondness. But the risk was so great. “This companionship of ours, has made me overlook the clear danger I’ve put you in, especially with your foolishly trusting nature.”
a matter of consequence
sirius-whoisleft:
Sirius had never been good at doing what he was told.
Nobody had asked him to stay, the night Sirius left home for good, so he had no way of knowing how he’d react if someone had. Sometimes at night, his traitorous, revisionist brain tried to imagine what had happened if he’d never left, but it was no use wondering. Nobody had asked Sirius to stay, and he’d left. If someone had asked, he probably would have left anyway. He’d been looking for a way out for years, even though he never thought a permanent escape possible.
It was an ugly quality to grow up with, and it grew uglier every year it wormed its way further into Sirius’s heart and mind. But it did have it’s good moments – very, very rarely.
Like today, when he heard get out and responded by entering the room instead. He remained blasé about it, even muttering an unimpressed, “Oh, fuck off,” as he did so. As Sirius locked the door behind himself and refused to leave, he wanted to believe that he’d seen the softening on Regulus’s face. Or that he’d sensed the worrying anger rolling in familiar waves off of his younger brother.
But those had all come after. He was pretty sure they must have; he was just contrarian as ever, accidentally falling into support of those he wanted to support when they claimed to want it least. Sirius owed it to Regulus to make the best of that, especially now that real worry was spreading through him like a virus.
The sound of Regulus’s fist hitting the blackboard had not been shocking. It had been familiar; a noise they had both grown up with in some measure, but never originating from the youngest Black brother himself. That was the scariest part, the part that confirmed for Sirius that he needed to say. He’d spent so many years afraid of seeing Orion if he looked over his shoulder; afraid of seeing Orion when he looked in the mirror at himself. Never had he worried about seeing Orion coursing through the forehead vein and injured hands of his baby brother.
“What is going on here?” It was not a question that left room for avoidance. Though, the boys were related more than they liked to admit out loud; Sirius wouldn’t be surprised at all if Regulus found a way to dodge it.
Sirius entering the room despite Regulus’ impolite ask ended up irritating him more than he expected. The locking of the door, to prove he was staying, made the younger brother feel even more trapped. Alone with his thoughts – to deal with his problems in solitude? That was something he was used to. On the occasion, he opened up to Rabastan if the need was desperate enough. And maybe in his youth, Sirius would be the first person to turn to. But not now, and not about family. Not when the person in front of him had so easily left, forcing the responsibility of heir onto him.
A redirected bitterness, and a thought process Regulus regretted immediately, shaking his head to attempt to be rid of it. And failing.
The question made him scoff, despite how fair it was. He had no doubt Sirius knew the complications that would come with being an heir, but perhaps he was caught up with Regulus’ act of so called rebellion to remember the side effects that came with it. Maybe it was easier to push the thought aside. “I’m… redecorating.” He told him, voice humorless, maintaining his glare before turning his back to him to look at the blackboard once more.
He had no intention of punching it again, even if the anger was still coursing through his veins. For years, he had tried to detach himself from the emotion, a conscious effort to never be like Orion in that respect. In all the ways his father had left marks on his children, the feeling of rage was something he wished he’d never inherit. Regulus would choose a bruise any day over such clouded thoughts and judgement. And, intention be damned, his fist was back on the blackboard before he’d even noticed his momentum.
There was no point in lying to Sirius. The tone his brother held, as well as his infamous stubbornness, created the very probable possibility that brushing it off would not be an option. He glanced down at his bruised knuckles, an irritated sigh escaping him. “I simply had a disagreement with our - sorry - my cousin. You know Bellatrix is excellent at getting under peoples skin.”
Regulus paused, only to spare him a glance. “This is a momentary lapse of control. Leave me alone to deal with it.”
CHARACTER FLAWS MEME.
undynememes:
bold flaws your character has / italicise ones they used to have, or have partially. feel free to add more.
absent-minded / abusive / addicted / aimless / alcoholic / aloof / anxious / arrogant / audacious / has bad habits / bigmouthed / bigoted / blunt / bold / callous / childish / cruel / cursed / dependent / dishonest / disloyal / disturbed / dubious / egotistical / envious / erratic / fanatical / fickle / fierce / finicky / flirty / gluttonous / gruff / gullible / hedonistic / humourless / hypocritical / idiotic / ignorant / illiterate / immature / impatient / impious / impish / incompetent / indecisive / indifferent / infamous / intolerant / judgemental / lazy / lewd / liar / lustful / masochistic / meddlesome / meek / megalomanic / naïve / nosey / obsessive / oppressive / overambitious / overemotional / overprotective / overzealous / paranoid / peevish / perfectionist / pessimistic / phobic / rebellious / reckless / remorseless / rigorous / sadistic / sarcastic / sceptic / seducer / selfish / self-martyr / self-righteous / senile / shallow / smart ass / solemn / spineless / spiteful / spoiled / squeamish / stubborn / superstitious / tactless / temperamental / theatrical / timid / tongue-tied / unlucky / unpredictable / untrustworthy / vain / weak-willed / withdrawn
*Crosses my arms and scoffs like an artsy gay coded goth boy in an 80s movie*
clearing the air
@charity-whoisleft
Usually, when it came to avoiding people he cared about, the action would be unintentional. When he’d spent too long away from Rabastan, it was usually when he had other things on his mind. When he didn’t speak to his cousins, it was because he hadn’t realised how much time had past, preoccupied with his studies. But this time, he had been going out of his way to avoid someone. More specifically, Charity. Which was proving to be far too difficult, especially with their shared classes.
Regulus would be lying if he said there was no maliciousness in his behaviour, even if it was overpowered by fear and concern. There was irritation there, that the Hufflepuff tried to bond with his cousins, despite his insistence that the feat was impossible. After everything he had told her about his family life, he was both annoyed and flattered that she still attempted some sort of friendship. But it had led him to the confrontation with Bella, and the anger he just couldn’t shake.
Something he didn’t want to take out on her.
The painful thing about their Charms class was that they were partnered. Sitting across the other side of the room and finding an excuse was not something he could do in this lesson. And while he was still happy to see her, he only greeted her with a small smile, rather than his usual fond expression and small talk. And he attempted to stay quiet for their entire lecture, only talking to her when the lesson required him to and ending it just as quickly. It felt unusual, and it felt cruel. But his thoughts were a mess, his emotions more so.
After the lesson, Regulus stayed seated, putting his hand on Charity’s arm to indicate for her to do so also. He knew the two of them would have to talk eventually. But he was scared for her, and for himself. While plenty had made it abundantly clear to him how inappropriate and dangerous his relationship with Charity was, he’d always felt he could protect her if it came to it. But Bellatrix proved how weak he could be. The threats were real.
When the room had finally emptied out, Flitwick included, he removed his hand with a sigh. “How many people know where you live?” He asked her, his voice void of emotion. “Just your closest friends, right?”
stressed out / rab & reg
notrodolphus·:
Rabastan, for all his confidence and enthusiasm and buoyancy, was not a stranger to rejection. His success rate was an optimistic 36.7% due to the oft ridiculous nature of his requests, and, honestly, Regulus was the best at fending him off. This refusal though, immediate and stammered, caught his attention where it usually would have been shrugged off. And if it weren’t for the fact that his brain had literally evolved its own little compartment solely used to catalogue all the telltale signs of his friend being uncomfortable, he might have been a little hurt.
As it was, he caught on to the tint of red invading the other boy’s usually composed skin and the breath that was meant to be steadying. “Are you okay?” Rabastan asked, momentarily forgetting about his own discomfort. Regulus’ always came first. “You’re looking… funny. Warm. Do you have a fever?” It took some effort to peel himself away from the bench – he’d definitely pulled a muscle or something, and straightening his back made breathing bedfellows with a sharp stab just below his axilla – but he managed and went straight to the younger Slytherin’s side.
It was this painful preoccupation that made Rabastan’s already-loose sense of personal boundaries even more slack, as he took a step closer than what was necessary in order to assess the other’s face. “I told you to wear a scarf,” he chided, uncharacteristically serious, placing a hand on Regulus’ forehead, “Dude, you’re hot.”
Rabastan's genuine concern and care when it came to Regulus’ health would have been endearing in any other situation. And usually, he enjoyed the attention, as much as he pretended otherwise. But this was different. And his face grew hotter as soon as a hand was placed on his forehead. This was ridiculous, he didn’t suffer through these things. Six months ago, he’d never even experienced basic attraction. Appreciating beauty was one thing, attempting to avoid looking at his best friend in fear of staring was completely different. Couldn’t he have been drawn to a person with a smaller ego? Couldn't Rab have at least put a shirt on?
With an eye roll, Regulus batted his hand away. “I’m fine. Well, I’m not. But I’m not ill. Just -” He paused then, taking a deep breathe before continuing with, “Very aware of something I don’t want to be aware of.”
It was only because of the obvious symptoms of pain Rabastan was showing, even when only looking at him from the corner of his eye, that Regulus eventually turned. Despite whatever thoughts were going on, despite confusion and discomfort towards a theory that was becoming more of a fact by the second, his best friend was in pain. Even if it was something easily remedied, it took precedence. He turned his gaze down to Rabastan’s shoulder, lightly grazing his fingers over the area. “Idiot. Where does it hurt?”
stressed out / rab & reg
notrodolphus·:
Rabastan, who was quite attuned to any and all attention thrown even vaguely his way, knew that Regulus was watching him. Not that that could tip him off to anything being amiss, however, and really he just chalked it up to curiosity on why he hadn’t yet joined in the exhausted flurry of movement to get out of their gear – when usually it took logical reasoning from Lucinda and impatient threats from Emma to get him to wear his proper padding and a shirt.
Really, he should start listening to both of them more. Especially when he’d been advised not to attempt a one-man Bjorn Blizzard without proper stretching, which resulted in what he could only describe as his left shoulder nerves having been put through an imaginary cheese grater. Rabastan hissed at the effort of taking his shirt off, the action being conducted at an excruciatingly slow pace, for once not to be dramatic but so as to not exacerbate the pain. “Don’t tell the Quidditch Mums,” he winced, throwing his friend his best ‘kicked puppy’ glace, “But I think I’m totally dying. Shoulder’s killing me.”
Resting his head pitifully against one of the lockers, Rabastan momentarily perked up as he flashed Regulus a smile that by now should tip the other boy off that a favor was about to be asked. “I think I still have some of that ache relieving lotion in my bag though… But, gosh, if only there were someone here with big, strong hands who thought the world of his best friend and was willing to help him out. Did I mention that I might be dying?”
The rest of the room had emptied out, and Rabastan finally started to move. Ridiculously slowly. And at first, Regulus went to scoff. The act, while it may have been for a different reason, was not so uncommon. But instead, his eyes wandered. Only for a few seconds, of course, before he caught himself and threw his glance to the other side of the room, suddenly finding an out of place tile on one of the walls extremely interesting.
I will not check out my best friend, I will not check out my best friend.
“You’d think after all this time, you’d actually listen to what they say.” Regulus mused quietly, trying to focus on the conversation rather than anything else. And as someone who was very keen on keeping eye contact while talking, the whole situation made him uncomfortable. The ‘favour’ that Rabastan asked for didn’t help and Regulus tried control his expression to not look mortified by the idea. And failed. “N-No!” A response, that came far too quickly to be normal.
He took a deep breathe, trying to compose himself. Regulus had helped him before with such a thing, why was he finding such difficulty now? Why was it so warm? He was overreacting, he was being an idiot, he was overthinking. The moment would pass – the curiosity would vanish. But for now, he drummed his fingers on the bench next to him to try and distract himself. “I just…I mean... you can do it yourself.”
antonin-whoisleft·:
“I mean,” Antonin replied firmly, clear he was about to explain just that but not before he held a hand out to direct Regulus to a less busy area of the street, near the side of the building he’d just left. Only then did he continue, voice still quiet, but pointed. “I mean that it’s not a big deal as long as it’s not serious, Reg. Not as I see it, anyway. You’d hardly be the first member of a powerful family running around with a half-blood - and you’ll obviously not be the last. How close are the muggles in her bloodline, do you know? That’s always a factor, as well.”
“That wasn’t what I was asking, no, but I wouldn’t have expected any different.” Antonin said, mildly, with a small shrug. Regulus had often been prone to extreme bouts of caring for things that perhaps didn’t deserve such treatment, and it had always been Antonin’s perceived duty to help him redirect that energy. “Who is she?” Of course that question came firmly after the question about the muggles in her family tree, but Antonin had always been a man of order.
“I see.” Antonin murmured, nodding slowly, as if he was internally trying to parse all the new information. “Well, that is the nature of such things. And your parents already know?” That very thought, and it did make sense now that everything was clicking into place, nearly made him shudder. Orion Black surely wouldn’t be pleased with his heir doing something so rebellious. “No way to play it off as a ridiculous rumor at this point, then?”
Regulus followed willingly, as he always did when it came to Antonin Dolohov. It was public enough knowledge when it came to his relationship with Charity that he wasn’t as concerned as he should be by who overheard. But his mentor, no doubt, had some opinions on the matter. And if the ex Head Boy wanted to talk a little more privately, away from the public eye, than Regulus was more than happy to oblige. What Regulus wasn’t expecting, once they’d reached somewhere a little more secluded, was the first question Antonin asked.
“I...” His eyebrows furrowed at the question. He’d expected Antonin to ask who she was, how long they’d been together. Typical questions. Regulus had hoped the Dolohov heir would have a similar reaction to that of Rabastan, not so dramatic but regarded their friendship above any sort of blood feud. Still, Regulus relented, his tone turning a little colder. “Her Grandparents are Muggles, on her mothers side.”
“Her name’s Charity.” Regulus continued easily, his voice somewhat softening at the mention of her. “She’s a Hufflepuff in my year.”
The thought of Orion and Walburga made his expression immediately switch. Not into sour, but something close to fear. As was his nature when it came to Antonin, he’d always trusted him without a second thought with his true emotions. Even if he were to try and hold false indifference, he knew the older boy who see straight through it. “No point at all. They know, and I haven’t heard from them since. No doubt they’re furious.”
A breathe, before adding. “As… I fear, you might be.”
can’t decide who to be || regulus & benjy
benjy-whoisleft·:
“Agree to disagree,” Benjy said, sitting up on one of the desks next to his things now. He wasn’t sure why he felt protective over them, but he didn’t like the distance anymore. He didn’t particularly like anyone here, and if Regulus wouldn’t take the hint and go, then he wasn’t going to follow typical conventions either.
It was a distraction and a much needed one. If he paused to be honest with himself, he was met with the fact his hands were shaking; he couldn’t do work if he wanted to. He stumbled across the torn page of notes from Defense Against the Dark Arts and couldn’t even attempt to find the topic from the lecture on his own without intrusive thoughts all surrounding Amycus. He was hurting his concentration, and he was worried that his grades would be next. He couldn’t afford that. He was better than that.
He wanted to be left alone to deal with this, not around someone who had done him no wrong, sure, but was still too close to his tormentors.
“Yeah, the people you associate with suck,” Benjy said. He gripped the edges of the table lightly, trying to stabilize himself. He clenched his jaw for an instant, knuckles paling when he tightened his hold. Fine, he was fine. It was just a second lapse that happened to everyone, he assumed. At the very least, those who had to keep their guards up constantly. A strange chill, an awful rush, an ever invasive concern.
“Thanks,” he said dryly. He leaned forward to grab his bag, willing the motion to look natural and being awkward for it. Eventually, he did locate the orange he was looking for. “You live in a dungeon,” he added, giving Regulus another look while he worked at the peel.
Regulus shrugged his shoulders at the small dismissal, watching as Benjy moved to get closer to his work, as though he were shielding it. Regardless of his intention, it was easy to see that the Ravenclaw was uneasy. Regulus was clever enough to realise it probably wasn’t him personally, although the colour of his tie probably didn’t help the matter. The company he kept probably made it worse. This was only proved as Benjy spoke again.
“They… don’t -” Regulus started, furrowing his eyebrows, trying to ignore the sudden rigid nature of the seventh year on the other side of the room. He supposed, when it came to association, he did spend his time around rotten people. He would never call them friends, and truthfully, even being civil towards them was a pain. The Carrow twins, Mulciber – even Goyle – all reasonably open about their prejudice. At least within the Common Room. Honestly, Regulus would rather be rid of them all together.
His family, however, shared the same views. And he couldn’t simply brush them aside. So, with a cough – Regulus amended his statement. “Some of them do, sure. But I try to stay away from people who use the M word as everyday vocabulary.” He hoped it would be some reassurance, although why he felt the need to give it, he wasn’t sure. Benjy looked uncomfortable, at best. Overall concerned.
Even as the other boy reached for something in his bag, trying to look casual, there was still some tension in him. Regulus would have questioned him about it, had Benjy’s retort not beaten him to it. And despite the unusual situation, the Slytherin laughed. “You have me there, Fenwick.” He responded, shooting him a smile as he returned his gaze to his book, trying to look past the apprehensive nature the older student had. “At least I don’t have to answer a riddle to enter my own bedroom though.”
demand retribution || regulus & bellatrix
Bellatrix had been incredibly open about her distaste for nearly every single one of Regulus’s decisions this school year. There was no point in hiding her displeasure; it wouldn’t serve him well. She felt no guilt for graduating, no pressure for letting this happen–it was a phenomenally stupid course of action that he had walked down very knowingly. Granted, it never would have gotten this far under her watch, but she was back to fixing her cousins’ mistakes.
It was certainly inconvenient, having to trek up to Hogsmeade and put a smudge on their name, but those could be buffed out and putting time into this was important. It reaffirmed her importance in the family, further secured her spot as the driver of this generation. If everything was squeaky clean, she wouldn’t look nearly as good in turn. It was a fine line, the balance could easily tip with another major blow or too many small ones adding up. She couldn’t afford to take blame; she was masterful at this course of action.
No, it was safe to say this wasn’t her first choice on how to spend the evening. She was hoping Regulus would continue his passivity, so they could hash this out when he was home for the holiday. This had its own merits; it ensured they would have the chance to speak before whatever Orion had planned.
She spun her wand through her fingers, making cold eye contact with anyone who looked at her too long. Their heads ducked quickly and they scurried on, more often than not, likely excusing it to themselves as tucking in a little deeper against the cold wind. Nothing to do with her–she’d take it. Let them lie to themselves; it made for easier pickings.
Another figure, coming from the castle this time, but layers weren’t enough to hide her cousin. She doubted it was his intent.
“Regulus,” Bellatrix greeted him. She herself was wearing a coat and nothing more. If a person looked closely, they might spot the charmed bracelets that kept her hands warm–and erased her fingerprints–with the added benefit of letting her still feel her wand. There were a few such items hidden away, most charmed herself to pull off this illusion that she was above the cold, that she did not need their protections. “What do you say we take a walk?”
@regulus-wil
Regulus had always been the Black brother to obey the family. Even before he started Hogwarts, he only imitated Sirius to the point where he wouldn’t get in trouble for it – and the two times he did push it too far were memories he could not easily get rid of. Regulus would sit quietly as he parents spouted hatred at the dinner table, he would stand in the corner with his head down as Orion would take out on his wrath on whoever ‘deserved’ it.
‘Yes, father, of course, mother.’ Accepting was easier. Accepting was safer. After a while, he began to see their views as facts. And when he started to question it, he’d stayed silent. When his brother was disowned, he faked his indifference. His genuine friendship with Muggleborn and Halfblood students, painted as a facade, and it suited him just fine. Because he was too afraid of what would happen to him if he opposed any of his family.
Until Charity.
He’d asked for his cousins anger, really. He could have lied, told her he’d do better. Or, he could have just ignored her letters and dealt with it at Christmas, like he intended to do with his parents. But his eldest cousin could read him better than most, and she’d helped him become the heir he was meant to be before this supposed slip up. Regulus knew he owed her more, but he did not expect them to throw passive aggressive words the way they had.
Going to Hogsmeade on the day that Bella said she would be there was always going to happen, but he didn’t expect to feel so unsettled. Something about the day felt wrong, but he needed to hold his own. The threats against his girlfriend had made him on edge, and he hoped that Bella could see reason, or at least care about him enough to let his happiness trump idiotic traditions. He’d done everything else right.
Making his way down to Hogsmeade with a sea of students, Regulus was acutely aware of everything that was going on around him. Every laugh, every shout. His gaze landed on Bella from a while away – her eyes cold. Even as he approached, he kept a reasonable distance away from her, eyes darting down to her wand with a neutral expression. It was a facade, of course. Even if he wasn’t outright afraid of her, the threat she held was clear.
“Bella. A pleasure.” Although his tone indicated it was anything but. “Lead the way.”
stressed out / rab & reg
@notrodolphus
Despite the company, Regulus despised Quidditch. He never missed a practice, and he always put his full effort in it, but that didn’t mean every second wasn’t miserable. With the December weather, coupled with the fact that he had a string of confusing thoughts running through his head, the entire experience was overwhelmingly unenjoyable. It didn’t help that since his conversation with Sirius regarding relationships, he’d become acutely aware of his best friend, something he would never voice, lest he inflate Rabastan’s head even more.
When the practice ended, he headed towards the changing room, barely contributing to the conversation. Regulus was exhausted, and he chucked himself down on the nearest bench. Usually, he was the first to get ready and the first to leave, especially since his relationship with Charity and his desire to meet up with her, but today, he lingered. Mostly for Rabastan, trying to find any courage to talk to him about his confusion. His eyes wandered for a moment, regarding his friend with interest.
Was he attractive?
Regulus’ gaze lingered for a couple more seconds, before he tried to shake his head of any thought. He did fail miserably, but the attempt was there. But he did notice a glimpse of discomfort on Rabastan’s usually happy features and Regulus’ eyebrows furrowed. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve eaten a handful of Sherbet Lemon.”
take my hand // reg + mary
It was late. Maybe not everyone would agree with her on that fact, but she didn’t need them to. She already felt the heaviness in her eyelids and had to suppress several yawns. A little known secret about Mary was that she wasn’t really a night owl. Sure, she could rally for a good party, never one to miss the fun even if it meant staying up until the sun rose. But on a normal night, she preferred to close the books early and get comfortable in bed so she could wake up the next morning and finish her run before most people were making their way down to breakfast.
But even though it was a Monday night, at a time she definitely considered late, especially when she had a pretty rough Quidditch practice that afternoon, Mary was very much not in bed. She was in the library keeping Regulus company, not so much because he asked her to but more so because she decided it was her job. Now that they were becoming closer, she couldn’t just leave him alone in the quiet library to do his work. What kind of friend would she be?
He walked around the stacks, pulling out books on a subject he had explained to her but she had already forgotten because she was too concentrated on keeping herself awake. She watched him from her seat on the floor, leaning against a wall. “How many books do you need for this essay? Are you trying to write a book of your own?”
@regulus-wil
History of Magic was a boring lesson, and it often required a lot of homework. Some questioned his sanity when it came to keeping it as an option, but according to academics, having it as an OWL and a NEWT showed… some potential. Which is all Regulus really hoped to gain after he graduated. With the influence his family had, he never doubted he’d get a job with relative ease. He just wanted to prove he was worth it.
This weeks History of Magic essay had led him to library to get out more books than one human being needed at one time. Bumping into Mary wasn’t part of the plan, and despite his insistence that it would be boring and that writing the essay may take some time, she had still opted to keep him company. No objections from Regulus, of course. He actually enjoyed her company, and with his reputation already in tatters, it hardly did him any harm to be seen with a Muggleborn at unusual hours.
Still, his work did end up getting his full attention as he surrounded himself with books at a desk. It wasn’t until he stood up to grab another one that he registered her words, and he looked down at her position on the floor, shooting her a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, Mary. Just one more, I promise. Then I’ll walk you back.” There were some uses to being a prefect after all – getting away with breaking curfew (within reason) was just a small one.
Once he grabbed one last book from the shelf, he fell down on the floor next to her, resting his back against the wall as Mary was. “Although I guarantee any book I write would be more interesting than this nonsense.” He told her, trying to push back a yawn.