ARSONIST'S LULLABY ━━ r. black¹

𝖎𝖎𝖎. hardest of hearts

彡 chapter three
( hardest of hearts )

WHEN MORGANA WAS ten, her curtains had caught fire. The fiery flames had flicked and glowed, warping around the peony pink fabric, and she had simply stood there with dazed eyes. The flame was magnificent, an accident of her own doing after her magic had flickered out of control, and she had been mesmerized by the inferno.

She nearly burnt down the Fawley manor, and had received a harsh punishment from Lavinia, who had taken all of her books and toys, and locked her in her quarters to make shapes out of the shadows that crawled along the ceiling. Fire, and it's twisted beauty marred with unspeakable cruelty, had always fascinated Morgana.

It crackled comfortably in the Gryffindor common room, waves of heat warming her cheeks as she sprawled on the rug with a cigarette in hand, completed Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts notes safely tucked away into her bag. The circular room filled with squashy armchairs and couches felt warm, and comfortable. The record player was being fought over by Salem and Sirius, the former wanting to play ABBA, the latter absolutely not hearing of it.

"Can you two shut it?" Morgana called out lazily, pushing herself up to let her chin rest on her cupped palm. She used her free hand to take a final drag from her cigarette, crushing it when she finished. "Some of us actually like peace."

"Peace? In a room full of Gryffindors? Fat chance," Mary Macdonald snorted, looking up from one of the table nestled into the corner, where she sat with Marlene Mckinnon and Lily Evans, their Care of Magical Creatures diagrams spread out in front of them.

"Fawley!" Lily looked up, startling the younger girl. "Don't you have rounds?"

Morgana glanced at her watch, eyes widening. "Who's on the rota with me again? I start in two minutes, lost a little track of time."

"Not a Gryffindor," Lily shrugged. "Just find them by the prefect common room. I'm too exhausted to go get the rota," she added. Indeed, she looked tired, eyes extra green due to the shadow of sleep and purple smudges under her eyes.

Morgana nodded, quickly straightening out her robes and ducking out of Gryffindor tower, the silver pin with the letter 'P' emblazoned in red and gold giving her full permission to be out and about. She couldn't say that she didn't occasionally abuse that privilege to get her friends things.

Dark hallways greeted her, the sun having long sunk below the horizon, glowing watercolors fading to inky darkness. Something about the warping shapes and shadows of the night was comforting to Morgana, it was just her, and the chilly breeze whistling through the open windows. She pulled her cloak a little tighter as she approached the Great Hall, turning into a smaller hallway. Legs burning due to the quick descent from Gryffindor Tower, she pushed open the heavy, oak door.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't show up."

Just to her luck, Regulus Black stepped from the shadows with a cocky smirk. Up close, she could see the violent smudges marring the skin under his eyes, painting his face with the shadows of his lack of sleep. His cheeks were hollowed by high cheekbones, and glinting sterling eyes that exuded easy confidence, even if the layer underneath betrayed him.

"I was just running a bit late," she shrugged, shuffling slightly. "Let's go," she laughed, nudging his shoulder. "The sooner we finish, the sooner I can get away from you."

"Oh hush," he smirked. They'd developed a friendly habit of poking fun of each other, which often resulted in them bickering in hushed whispers during Runes. "As if you'd ever stand up Regulus Black."