Slumber Party | Sapphic Jegulus

Chapter 2

Regulus

I'm almost certain this is Potter's old room.

I can't sleep, I can't stop tossing and turning on the bed, puffing against the pillow, and the only thing I can bring myself to do is watch the moonlight reflecting off the trophies on the shelves. 'Top scorer of the season', 'Best midfielder 2016', there is even a trophy made of paper mache, which reads 'Best captain of all time' that looks a lot like child's work.

At least they had the decency to change the sheets. I'm sure Potter is the kind of girl who has sheets printed with little football balls. That or a giant Justin Bieber quilt; But no, these are white and smooth.

I try to go back to sleep, but my eyes itch, my head hurts, and I just want to get out of this place. Out of pure anger, I hit the sheet, letting out an audible snort.

I pick up my phone from the bedside table; I could get on TikTok and get my daily cringe fix, but I don't think that would help me much. I could go on Instagram, but responding to @rab.ass.tan's so intricately thought-out fire emojis isn't something I feel like doing right now.

Finally, I go into my messages, and I see that I have an unopened text from him. Can't sleep, he says, and is followed by an emoji of a sleepy face.

Me neither, I type back.

"Morning Reggie!" Sirius exclaims as I walk into the kitchen. "Did you sleep well? Jamie made us breakfast, you hungry?"

Potter shoots me a smile from the counter, where she's flipping some sausages in a pan. "The patriarchy at its finest, I see," I joke, seeing how Sirius is sitting looking at his cell phone while Jamie cooks. Sirius gives me a tired look, and Potter bursts out laughing, "I could stand my ground on feminism, but that would mean starving us all. Your brother is like a big baby."

"Okay, first of all, I could learn to cook if I wanted," Sirius drawled, looking up from his phone for a few seconds to glare at both of us, "And second, what are you even laughing at? You're as useless as I am!"

I take a seat next to Sirius. "Yeah, but I don't take pride in it!"

I look around me. This kitchen still feels strange, I can't get used to being here. I miss Kreacher. He was our butler, an old German man with huge furry ears who made delicious cupcakes. Probably the best thing in my house since Sirius left.

My old house, I remind myself.

That's over.

Now I'm with Sirius, away from there. Now I'm safe.

I try to convince myself, but it just doesn't feel as true as it should feel.

"Where are you going so dressed up?" Sirius asks, and I give him a sidelong glance as I open my Instagram and check my notifications. "We are just going to school, you know that, right?"

"And why are you dressed as if you were a beggar? We are just going to school, not to a soup kitchen, you know that, right?"

"It's seven in the morning."

"Didn't know there was a set time to look like a beggar." Before Sirius can answer me with a sarcastic remark, I lean in his direction, showing him the screen of my phone, monitoring Jamie's movements out of the corner of my eye. "Can you explain to me why your little friend has liked a photo of me from two thousand and nineteen?" I accuse in a whisper.

Sirius quirks a brow. He leans over and looks at my phone screen. "Don't know. Prongsie, dear, why were you stalking my sister?" he asks, perfectly loud. I punch him in the arm as I feel the urge to cover my face with my hands.