𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 regulus black and
celia greengrass are in their
final year at hogwarts and in
the midst of the first wizardinng
war, delve into the history of
the world's past
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── A TRAIN JOURNEY
. . .
HE HADN'T SEEN HER FOR A FEW WEEKS PRIOR to that, and it seemed all rather sudden that the scent of her perfume - a draft of vanilla, milky sweet coffee, wild strawberries and rose that reminded him so terribly of the day spent out on the porch of his Uncle's house in the North - entered the train carriage he was sat in.
The newspaper in front of his face rustled as he abandoned all cause of reading it, rings of hazel scattered over the article detailing one of the Death Eaters more recent attacks; a house in Dover ransacked, the inhabitants; almost all of which were employees of the Ministry and most decisively Muggle-born; had been left for the dead, before closing it.
Celia was already stood behind him, gleaming silver badge attached to the brown tweed blazer. A sight in a somewhat haphazardly thrown together outfit (there was something about the flower-print cotton dress that didn't match to her headband, or the brick-orange heeled loafers), the Greengrass looked almost exactly the same as when Regulus had left her, blonde hair curling upwards at her shoulders, freckles only made more precise over the bridge of her nose .
She was clutching a small bag, Hogwarts trunk discarded somewhere else, and as she took a seat in front of him, a small sudoku book emerged from the confines, a red and black striped pencil sharpened almost down to the lead following. Celia hadn't yet noticed his eyes following her every movement, assuming his attention still lay on that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet, and when she looked up she met his eyes.
"Hi." She smiled warmly, pencil already in her hands, fingers sprayed as she flattened the spine of her book out. "I heard your Uncle Alphard died."
"He did. Mother removed him from the tapestry upon finding out he had given my brother the majority of his money. I got the keys to his house in the Lake District though." Regulus replied, the distinct smell of burnt threads coming to mind. "I spent a week or so there at the beginning of August."
"I suppose it was quite enjoyable?"
"It was, I spent a couple of afternoons when it wasn't raining on the lawn, and the rest of the days looking through his belongings." Regulus could see it clearly, the rain pouring down outside whilst he holed himself up in the library, the fire lit up in a roaring orange whilst he delved through drawers, attempting to find anything of value, whether that be momentary or sentimental. "We can go up in the spring, if you like. There is a number of books you may enjoy, and the odd Muggle item I'd rather keep out of my mother's view"
Celia nodded, more than understanding. She didn't reply for a moment, her gaze on the urban setting flying by. Then, she turned back to him. "Why not go at Christmas? Mother and Father are planning on inviting my grandfathers over, and you know how difficult that can become.. having to keep them in separate rooms because they can't quite comprehend human decency. We would probably end up at Grimmauld Place again, simply because there isn't enough of us to entertain now that Audrey ran off with your brother."
