Black Rose [Regulus Black]

22 - paperclip rings & stifling meetings

Alessandra's right foot hovered over the threshold of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, and she cautiously lowered it, her leg jolting imperceptibly as it made contact with the dark paneled floor.

Surprisingly, she didn't spontaneously combust.

She took another tentative step forward, and then another, making sure that the floor wouldn't turn into lava. When she could make sure that Walburga hadn't set up death traps for her, she shut the door behind her, the echo of the noise resembling the closing of a coffin.

She subconsciously flexed her fingers as she walked into the dining room with bated breath. Her footsteps were as silent as the night, suitable enough for the murky atmosphere of the house, and she ruminated over what she was to say.

"Good evening," she greeted Walburga as politely as she could, trying her hardest to be as civil as she could. "I'm here to visit Reg. Could I go up to see him?"

Oh, how Walburga wanted to say no and slam the door in that wretched girl's face. She was clearly some sort of prostitute trying to find some rich man to satisfy herself, and poor Reggie had gotten himself trapped in her web. It was fairly obvious she was up to no good, her soul was as tainted as her blood. But Walburga wouldn't allow it, no. She wouldn't allow her son to get trapped by some harlot who was out for gold. She wouldn't allow her bloodline to be tainted by such filth, filth that had mingled with Muggles for most of its life. She wouldn't allow this girl to enter her home and ruin her house.

In the future, of course. Now, however, she had no option but to let Alessandra in because Reg couldn't see through the facade the phony bitch had put up.

Of course, Walburga would eventually dispose of that challenge, and Alessandra would just be a small bad memory in a long series of good ones if everything went to plan.

"He's in his room. You will have to leave soon though, since we will be having guests over soon."

Alessandra nodded and practically floated up the stairs, glad that Walburga was finally being nice for once. Little did she know, Walburga Black, like all Slytherins usually did, was planning something, something deceitful that would end up in the loss of a life if everything went right.

She opened the door to Regulus' room, laughing at the way he jumped up in his seat. "Hello."

"You scared me," he snapped at her, although his lips curled up slightly as he saw the dazzling smile on her face. She emitting some sort of radiance wherever she went, and he could've sworn the room had gotten a few shades brighter after her entrance.

"And I enjoyed it," she beamed.

"You seem cheerful today," he noted, his mood also lightening up in her presence.

"I had a great day at work," she looked around, because it was the first time she'd ever been in his room. "You should really clean this place up once in a while, everything's just piled up. Doesn't it bother you?"

He shrugged. "I like it that way."

"Cluttered?" she frowned.

"It helps me focus."

"I could never. I remember compulsively cleaning my room in the orphanage before sitting down to study, because the mess was too much for me to handle." She walked around, not able to help herself because she was curious. "My, don't we look dashing."

"I- huh?" he spun around, caught off-guard, to see her peering at a picture of him stuck onto the wall.

"You look nice in this one," she grinned. "Very classy."

"I was nine, and was obsessed with face-painting at the time," he scowled.

She shrugged. "It's alright, you don't have to hide it from me. Face-painting, my darling Regulus, is a true talent, and I completely understand if you choose to engage in it."