Moodboard by @softhecreator
Don’t Blame My English Blood For This American Heartache
Chapter Six: Take U With Me
AO3 info prologue one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve
All my work is 18+.
I try to resist, but the light’s getting low to a glow till you’re touching my lips. I wanna stay when I shouldn’t, wanna go but I wouldn’t, wanna say no but I couldn’t. So meet me in the dark; kiss me in the shadows of every spark.- Marianas Trench, Rhythm of Your Heart
October, 1984
Hogsmeade, Scotland
The Scottish weather wasn’t too cold yet, and most people got by without any sort of coverings whatsoever, but Sera was a Californian, so she needed something to keep her warm.
She quickly discovered that she very much liked Hogsmeade. It didn’t have the warming charms that the castle did, but it was a cute little village with a bunch of magical stores. Most of the other people there were decked out in that fancy wizarding shit they all wore, but the so-called Muggleborns—what a ridiculous concept, blood purity; as if it mattered—were in regular clothes the way she was. She liked her knee-length black dress; it was fairly low cut and had a little V-shaped thing that she kept closed with a tie, and she wore black leggings, an old pair of Converse, and a long knitted purple sweater.
So yeah, she was protected from the fifty degree weather adequately enough to enjoy a deliciously sweet—and slightly alcoholic—drink at a small bar-slash-inn called The Three Broomsticks. She was listening to her Walkman, humming along to Freddie Mercury singing about how girls with big butts—such as herself, which was nice because, like, how many songs actually praised her body type?—apparently made the world go round. She honestly doubted his claims, but he was Freddie Mercury, so who was she to argue?
Anyway, point was, she was enjoying her sweet drink, snacking on the magic candy she’d gotten at a place called Honeydukes, and leafing through one of several magical books—mostly romance novels, if she were honest. She’d never had sex and she was curious, alright?—she’d purchased at the local bookstore. It was peaceful.
Until, that is, someone with an irritatingly long body sat down in the chair across from her. She looked up from her book, yanking her headphones down around her neck with a sigh of annoyance.
“What do you want, Regulus?”
He grinned that sickeningly attractive grin of his. “Nobody else who claims to dislike me calls me by my first name, you know.”
She stared at him, nonplussed. “What am I supposed to call you?”
“My surname is the standard.”
Sera pursed her lips. “Your surname is normal. Your first name is weird. I prefer to point out your weirdness.”
He frowned. “My name isn’t unusual in my family.”
“Neither is inbreeding,” she said flatly. “Again: what do you want?”
“To spend time with you, of course,” he said with a grin.
Sera scowled. “No.”
He didn’t seem to hear her. “Did you get my letters?”
“Nope.”
Regulus hummed, drumming his fingers on the wood of the table and looking very much like he didn’t believe her. “Pity. I sent you a birthday present.”
Yes, I know. You sent me a fucking family heirloom, you goddamn weirdo.
“What are you wearing to the Christmas ball?”
She stared at him. “I don’t celebrate Christmas.”
He frowned. “You don’t? Why not?”
“I’m Jewish.”
He thought for a few long moments. “Is that a religion?” When she nodded, he hummed, looking at her consideringly. “The Malfoys aren’t religious.”
“My parents converted before I was born,” she explained. “I’m not fluent in Hebrew or anything.”
“I see,” he said slowly, and she wasn’t entirely sure that he did, but whatever. Most people didn’t understand shit about Judaism. After a long moment, he decided, “Well, you don’t need to celebrate Christmas in order to attend the ball.”
She scowled at the thought of the last ball she’d attended. “I don’t particularly want to dance with you again.”
“Why not?” he asked, flagging down a waitress to order a drink of his own.
“Because you’re a dick,” she informed him bluntly.
He snorted. “I do so enjoy your language, you know. Most witches titter and blush during a courtship. You don’t.”
“I don’t know how I’d behave,” she said slowly, “as I have never gotten an offer to be courted from someone I’d actually consider saying yes to.”
“You’re already being courted, darling,” he explained, an amused smile playing at his too-perfect lips.
She sipped her drink. “I don’t understand why you’d want to marry someone who doesn’t even like you.”
He hummed thoughtfully, accepting his drink from the waitress with a smile when it was brought over. “You don’t treat me the way most people of my acquaintance do,” he said slowly, “you’re intelligent and magically gifted. I’m unused to being around witches like you, and I find you fascinating, to be perfectly honest.” After a brief pause, he added, “And you’re exceptionally lovely. As for not liking me, I’m winning you over already.” She glared at him, but before she could say anything, he pointed at her novel and asked, “What are you reading?”
“A book,” she snapped, flushed and prickly with embarrassment at the compliments.
“I can see that,” Regulus drawled. “What kind of book?”
“Fiction.”
“Let me see.” Before she could object, he snatched it from her hands.
“Hey!” she griped.
Ignoring her, he read for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. “I never would’ve thought you the type!”
“It’s interesting!” she snapped. “I’ve never read magical novels before!”
“So you choose the ones with sex, do you?” He was smirking, the dickhead. “If you’re interested in it, my dear, just say the word—“
“Even if I was, it wouldn’t be with you,” she hissed, her face bright red.
He chuckled again. “All in due time.”
Regulus showed up on Hogsmeade weekends a lot after that.
One afternoon, they were having a relatively normal conversation when he suddenly asked, “Have you ever been involved with a man before?”
Sera coughed on her own spit. “Gag me with a spoon, what the fuck—“ she sputtered. “That is none of your business.”
He frowned. “I just want to know how to behave with you, that’s all.”
Glaring viciously at him, she crossed her arms and declared, “No, I haven’t. I’ve never met a boy who wasn’t either ugly, stupid, a wastoid, or a super fun combination of the three.”
He looked amused. “A wastoid, hm?”
“Yes.”
“Good to know.”
Okay, so maybe she liked him a teeny tiny bit. Seriously, though, it was only a little. It wasn’t even that big of a deal. People got meaningless crushes all the time, and it honestly wasn’t even her fault. She really, sincerely could not be blamed for wanting to French him just a little. She’d never done it before, and she wanted to see what all the fuss was about. And Regulus… Well, he reportedly knew what he was doing. He’d probably be pretty good at it, right?
So being around him was getting kinda awkward for her on account of her rapidly growing attraction to him. She was really trying not to like him, but he was so fucking dreamy, and she’d started noticing things about him and couldn’t seem to stop.
His hair, for example, hung in super soft-looking curls, falling over eyes that looked like the ocean after a storm. His lips were pink and perfectly shaped, and he had the most pronounced jawline and cheekbones she’d ever seen, even in movies. The point was, Regulus made Tom Cruise look unattractive.
To make matters even worse, he’d taken it upon himself to start cursing around her and calling her by her first name, citing “adequate familiarity”, whatever the hell that meant. The way his mouth looked when he formed the syllables of her name, the way ‘fuck’ rolled off his tongue— it shot sparks down her spine.
He was so fucking sexy, and she really didn’t appreciate him getting all close to her and making her already-made decision to continuously reject him all the more difficult. The horrifying reality was, if he kissed her, she’d probably let him.
November, 1984
Hogwarts
Scotland
“Where are you going?” Yarrow asked one Saturday evening in November after even most of the seventh years had snuck back into the dorms. Sera zipped up her black dress and turned around, examining the way the leather made her ass look in the mirror. She had fishnets that went up to her thighs and were held up by garters, as well as her favorite pair of black combat boots, which Beo was currently rubbing against. She wasn’t thin or muscular the way most people seemed to find attractive, but it was a Queen concert, and dammit, she was gonna feel good about her appearance for a change.
She waved a hand around her, casting a quick warming charm to stop her from getting cold on the walk off the grounds. Taking out a tube of bright red lipstick, she addressed her friend. “I’m going to a concert.”
“How are you even leaving the school?”
“Uh, doy, I’m sneaking out.” Sera rolled her eyes. “I’ve been turning myself invisible since I was, like, fourteen. It’s whatever.” She applied the lipstick, tapped her lower lip once to charm it so it wouldn’t smudge or fade, and decided she was satisfied.
“Isn’t your beau coming to visit tonight?”
Sera turned slowly towards her friend. “What?”
“Uh, yeah,” Yarrow said, gesturing towards the pile of letters on Sera’s desk that she liked to pretend she’d never read. “He told you in the most recent one he was coming up for a visit. Said if you didn’t meet him, he’d come find you or something. Flitwick probably wouldn’t mind, but I’ve honestly no idea how he could convince Dumbledore.” Yarrow shrugged. “Whatever, I suppose.”
“Fuck,” Sera gasped. “Did he say when he was coming?”
“No,” Yarrow said, delicately turning a page in the book they were reading.
“Better see if I can beat him, then,” she decided, and off she went.
Unfortunately, just as she passed the school gate, there was Regulus.
Fuck.
She’d made herself visible again, which, in retrospect, was a bad idea, but making herself completely invisible was actually pretty difficult.
“Sera?” Regulus frowned, looking her up and down. “What’re you wearing?”
“Go away,” she snapped, irritated. “I’m busy.”
“I don’t understand,” he admitted. “You’ve come like I asked, so—“
“I didn’t know you’d asked,” she told him impatiently. “I have plans.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Plans that require you to sneak out of the castle at night?”
Sera glared up at him sharply. “Yes.”
He tensed, examining her outfit again. “Those are your Muggle clothes, yes?”
She pursed her lips and didn’t respond.
“Are you…” He gulped. “Are you meeting a Muggle boy?”
She stared at him in disbelief. She was so annoyed by his audacity that she sniffed and said, “In a manner of speaking.” Regulus looked so displeased at this that Sera couldn’t help but groan. “I’m going to a concert, you wastoid.”
“Oh.” He instantly relaxed. “I’ll come with you, then.”
She lurched back, though he wasn’t particularly close to her to begin with. “You most certainly will not.”
He hummed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Where are we off to, then?”
She scowled at him, marching past him and away from the school gates to get outside the wards so she could relocate.
“I don’t have my usual friends,” she snapped. “I last saw these guys a couple years ago, and I can’t go with my friends the way I did back then, and it sucks.”
“You can go with me,” he pointed out.
“You’ve never even heard their music.” She paused. “Which is so fucking weird, by the way. Literally everyone’s heard Queen.”
“Why don’t you show me, then?” he asked. “I might like it.”
He sounded so hopeful that she just didn’t have it in her to turn him down. And, well… she actually enjoyed spending time with him, even though she’d never tell him that.
“Fine,” she eventually decided. “I just do magic to get in anyway. It won’t be hard to get you in, too.”
He fell into step beside her, his eyes wide. “Really? That’s illegal, you know.”
She shrugged. “All the best things are illegal.”
He looked down at her in bewilderment. “Are you quite certain you’ve never been involved with a man before?” he asked.
She glared up at him wordlessly. Once they were outside the wards, she said, “Shut up and hold still.” With that, she grabbed his arm and transported them off to London.
Sera charmed everyone who might otherwise get in their way with basic confusion spells, the same way she and Ta had always done. Her non-magic friends never understood how she and Ta got away with everything they did, but nobody ever questioned it. Not when the two of them could get away with damn near anything.
When Freddie Mercury took the stage, Sera screamed, jumping up and down.
She admittedly wasn’t paying much attention to Regulus, but he’d been looking at her for most of the show. She actually noticed some when he watched her dance and shake her ass to Fat Bottomed Girls (along with everybody else; it wasn’t like she was particularly special), but other than that, she didn’t think about him much.
Until the last song of the encore, halfway through Somebody To Love, when she had her eyes closed and was singing along with Freddie when he said, “Someday, I’m gonna be free.”
Suddenly, out of nowhere, she was turned around, a hand was in her hair, and lips were on hers.
Sera’s eyes snapped open in shock, but… but Regulus was kissing her. He was kissing her like he was dying.
She was frozen for a moment, and she really should’ve pushed him away, but there was alcohol buzzing in her veins, so she could do nothing but arch into him, clenching her hands in his shirt and trying her best to kiss him back.
Regulus pulled away after what felt like a delicious eternity of his mouth on hers, cupping her cheek with one hand, the other on the small of her back. His eyes were hooded and fixed on her lips, and Sera could only look up at him, breathing heavily and wishing he’d kiss her again.
They stumbled, giggling, up against the wall of a random building in the city.
“God, Sera,” he groaned into her throat.
She hauled his mouth back to hers wordlessly, winding her arms around his neck. Now that she’d given in, she couldn’t really recall why she’d bothered fighting this to begin with.
“We should— we should talk about this—“ he said between gulps of air.
“God, shut up,” she complained. “Just kiss me.”
“I’m supposed to be a gentleman,” he muttered, mouthing wetly at her throat. “You just make it so fucking difficult in these sexy little outfits. Damn near show me your arse, fuck.” He grabbed her ass then, squeezing it roughly. She took a sharp intake of breath, arching into him, her breasts against his chest. “But we have to talk about this.”
“Ugh,” she grumbled in frustration, shoving him away from her. Her head thunked on the brick wall of the building she was leaning against, and she fixed him with a glare. “What do we have to talk about?”
“Us,” he explained, sounding terribly impatient for reasons that most likely directly related to the large tent in his pants. “I’ve been trying to court you properly for months, and tonight, I— I know I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. You are just…” He exhaled, his eyes roving over her form, pausing briefly on where the zipper of her dress revealed her cleavage. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, so I kissed you. Sorry. It wasn’t how I planned to…” He took a deep breath. “Look, Sera, I fancy you. More than I have done anyone so quickly before. I would very much like it if you would seriously give my offer some consideration.”
“Your offer?” she asked, raking a hand through her curls, still dazed by the kiss, the way he’d touched her.
“I’m not proposing,” he said slowly, carefully, “but if this continues, if you allow me to kiss you again, touch you again, I…” He looked down. “If there is no chance of you ever consenting to marry me, tell me now.”
She was silent for a long moment.
She really did have feelings for him, didn’t she? She was falling for the prick.
Oh, fuck it.
“I dunno how all this courtship stuff works,” she admitted quietly, “but I do like you, Regulus. A lot. Normally, that’d mean, like, dating. Here, I guess it means—“
“An engagement,” he said flatly. “It means an engagement, if your aunt agrees as your Head of Household. It’s generally… expedited in the event of genuine interest between prospective spouses.”
“You said you weren’t proposing,” she pointed out shakily.
“I’m not. But if you allow me to, I’ll court you with that goal in mind.”
“I thought you were just getting to know me,” Sera recalled.
He nodded once. “I was. I’m satisfied. I want you.” She blushed to the roots of her hair at that, but he continued, “If you’ll allow it, I would like to court you properly with the intent of marriage.”
“I mean…” She gulped, anxiously twirling a curl around her finger. “That’s kinda what all dating is, if it’s serious.”
“This is serious,” he informed her, his voice stern. “Do you want me?”
She looked at his feet, the fancy shoes that were somehow spotless despite having just attended a fucking concert. “Y— yeah.”
He cupped her cheek, lifting her face up—up, up, up. Fucking hell, he really was a tall bastard, wasn’t he?—to his. “Agreeing to allow me to properly court you is to agree to marry me, assuming all goes well. Do you agree?”
She looked up at him with wide, nervous eyes. It was just like they were dating, right? He’d just be her boyfriend. That wasn’t a big deal, really. After a moment, she breathed, “Yes.”
He kissed her before the word was fully out of her mouth.
Yeah, a Queen concert, we’re ignoring what the set list was and the exact date that Queen was in London, okay, cut a bitch some slack and lemme be self indulgent here
Big thanks to @lilmaymayy for betaing!
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