I miss when the first Reggi I thought of was Mary’s bf Reginald Cattermole
I refuse to acknowledge who else it could be referring to
AO3
Mary had dandelion hair and a sunshine smile. That's what her grandfather had always told her. Especially when she was running around the field behind his farmhouse, barefoot, knees scraped up, and her tongue died purple from the freezer pop she'd scarfed down when her mom wasn't looking.
The magic had started small at first. And Mary, who believed in fairies who stole lucky pennies and goblins who ate leftovers, didn't think that she had anything to do with what happened.
Her favorite book would appear on her nightstand after she spent the whole night looking for it. She would wake up and it would be there, waiting for her. It never rained on her birthday. Her favorite flowers always grew better than anything else in the garden.
When she was eight, there was a big storm that knocked over a bunch of trees on the farm, but the one that held her rope swing was safe.
She never missed the bus, she always had an extra stick of gum, she never lost her keys, she always managed to find another biscuit in the cupboard. It was all little things.
And then she was invited to a magic school, and it felt like her luck was expanding. She made friends with a girl who shared stories with her back and forth, of small previously unexplainable bursts of magic.
She learned to control it. She learned all kinds of things, and even when it had an explanation, it still felt like magic.
And then she met him.
A boy. Seemingly innocuous. Her skated under her radar for the first six years of school, even though he'd been there the entire time. With his soft brown hair, darling brown eyes, and a smile that made her knees forget how to keep her upright. And for some reason, one day in her sixth year, she finally saw him while walking back toward her dormitory, from the library.
It felt like a movie. One of those cheesy romance ones that her and Lily stayed up talking about, giggling and poking fun because nothing that happened in those films ever happened in real life.
But then there was this boy. And he smiled at her, and if Lily hadn't had her arm linked through Mary's she would have stepped into the trick step on the staircase and made a complete and utter fool of herself. He smiled at her and her heart was too loud. Boom. Boom. Boom. He smiled and it was a summer rainstorm.
"Excuse me," Mary sat down across from him, at the Hufflepuff table, the next morning at breakfast. "But what is your name?"
The boy blinked those chocolate brown eyes at her and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Mary wanted to reach over and push the corner up further, she wanted to trace her finger around the shape of it, she wanted to memorize it and have it tucked away in her brain, in her heart, for always.
"Unfortunately, it's Cattermole." He said, and he picked up a spoon and dunked it in his tea. He started stirring it as he looked over her face. "Reginald Cattermole." One corner of his mouth was still turned up, but the other turned down, like he was apologizing.
Mary smiled at him. "I don't think I'm going to call you that." And since he had apologized for his name, she thought it was alright if she gave him a nickname. She reached across the table and took his cup of tea, spoon and all. He looked a little surprised, or maybe more than a little surprise. He'd sort of frozen in place when she'd smiled at him.
She took a drink of the tea and scrunched her nose. "Needs more sugar." She said, setting the cup back down in the middle of the table. She kept her hands around it and looked at Reginald Cattermole.
He blinked in rapid succession and then nodded. He reached for the sugar bowl and scrambled a bit for a new spoon to use. "You're not going to call me by my name?" He asked as he dumped another spoonful of sugar into the cup.
Mary shook her head as she slowly stirred the sugar around, looking down at the tea to watch the dark liquid funnel in the center. "No."
"Okay." He said, separating the word into two distinct syllables. "Are you going to tell me your name?"
Mary tried the tea again, looking at him over the rim of the cup. It was better now. The water was just the right temperature, her tea always was, and she looked at him until he squirmed.
"You're Mary MacDonald." He reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck. "We've had classes together since first year. I know who you are."
It didn't seem fair. That he had known of her for six years and she was only just now becoming aware of him. He should have introduced himself ages ago. He should have planted himself in her path when they were eleven years old, dug roots down deep into the earth and informed her of his existence.
Reginald Cattermole.
The shape of his name felt wrong to her. It didn't suit him. It was probably his grandfathers name, or his grandfather's grandfather's name. It wasn't his name.
She took another sip of the tea and then passed the cup back to him. "I am Mary MacDonald." She nodded, resting her elbows on the edge of the table and covering them with her hands as she leaned forward. "Is that what your going to call me?"
Reginald Cattermole let out a hollow laugh. "What is this? Did your mates put you up to this? Potter or Black? Are they having a laugh?"
Mary narrowed her eyes and leaned back. "No."
He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. "Then what is this? Why did you come over here?" He turned his head to the left, and then to the right, looking up and down the table, waiting for someone to offer an explanation.
Mary frowned and took a deep breath. She'd always thought it was best to be honest. "Why did I come over here? You smiled at me yesterday and I almost fell down the stairs. I've composed myself and now I'm here." She shrugged a shoulder and then reached for the teacup again.
Reginald Cattermole blinked rapidly again and then leaned further over the table. "I smiled at you?"
"Yesterday." Mary felt slightly putout now. He had to remember because she hadn't been able to forget. "We passed one another on the stairs."
"I know." He said quickly.
"Okay." She said, pleased.
"Okay." He gave her a single nod. "And now you're here. Because I smiled at you? But you're not going to use my name."
"You have a really nice smile." She was smiling now. "Bit like thunder." Boom. Boom. Her heart echoed in her ears. He looked like he was frozen again. "How about Reg?" She scrunched up her nose in distaste. "I can't call you Cattermole."
He shook his head. "A lot of people call me Reg. Thunder?"
She nodded. "How about Cat?"
"No one calls me that."
"That's because it doesn't suit you."
"Mary?" She liked how her name sounded wrapped up in his soft voice. Warm and safe. Summer rain.
"Yes?"
She didn't think he'd worked out what his question was yet, but that was alright. She smiled at him again, her sunshine leaking out of her. She felt like she might be glowing.
She decided to answer his question, even if he didn't know how to ask it. "My grandfather, he always said that my smile was sunshine. Bright and warm. Yours is like thunder. It rattles my chest and," She took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like she might be sharing a bit too much. "And it echoes."
The corner of his mouth was pushing up again and Mary's smile widened.
"Your smile is sunshine." He agreed.
"I know." Mary nodded. "So, are you going to ask me out? I could ask you if you want, but I figure, I should give you the chance."
He laughed, a bright, sharp sound, that seemed to strike her in the chest like a bolt of lightening. She didn't want him to stop. "That's awfully nice of you." He rubbed at the back of his neck again. "Mary MacDonald, do you want to go out some time?"
Mary bit down on the tip of her tongue and nodded. "Yes. Probably very soon."
"Yes." He agreed. "Probably very soon." He blinked at her, like he wasn't sure if this was really happening. But he was still smiling at her and her heart was still thundering in her ears.
"Reggie." She slid the teacup back to him. "I think that's what I'll call you." He took the teacup and looked from it back to her, his cheeks were tinted pink.
"Alright." He was good at agreeing with her. "And I'll call you Mary."
"That's a good choice." She grinned.
He smiled back and then took a sip of the tea. He winced. "That's too much sugar."
Well, he couldn't agree with her about everything.
