𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨-𝙧.𝙖.𝙗

𝟯𝟰-𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀

"DON'T LAUGH, OKAY?" Jo says, voice hushed, chewing on her bottom lip.

Regulus looks down at her with soft eyes. The two of them are tucked away in the furthest corner of the library, hidden behind rows and rows of dusty books. It's almost curfew, and the crowds have thinned out. Regulus holds Jo's hand in his lap, fingers absentmindedly tracing over the lines in her palm. It's dim, Regulus looks golden in the light as he looks down at her. "Why would I laugh?" he asks sincerely.

Heat flushes to Jo's cheeks. She's more embarrassed than she thought she'd be. Jo had been toying with the idea of telling Regulus about her dreams for weeks, but now as she sits there with the truth on the tip of her tongue, she feels silly and hysterical. She inhales, taking in dust and the smell of old, forgotten books. "I imagine it'll sound a bit, erm, stupid," she tells him, now chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"Alright," Regulus agrees with a firm nod of his head, "I won't laugh."

She's silent for a beat, and then, with a sigh, confesses, "I've been having these dreams."

"Dreams?" he echoes back to her.

Her lips become a firm line. "Don't laugh," she instructs, voice curt and eyes wide. After months of dwelling, saying the words out loud sounds so meaningless to Jo. Of course, she has dreams, everyone has them-who cares?

Regulus raises a hand in surrender, still using the other to draw patterns on Jo's palm. Still, he has a little smile etched into the details of his expression. He's been like that a lot, lately: smiling, touchy, relaxed. It's different, not like he was before. Jo recalls returning back from summer holiday and having to be so delicate with him. Regulus was stiff, reserved and severe. Jo was expecting more of the same, but it's nothing like it was before. Regulus just seems so happy lately. And he has this warm aura around him that's almost managed to make Jo forget about her worries. His smile, even now, sends something soft fluttering in her chest. "Not laughing."

"It's really quite hard to pin them down," Jo continues on, though a bit hesitant, quieter now. "They're always different, and I can hardly remember them once I wake up. But I've been writing down what I can remember for months now and a lot of the time it has a few of the same things."

"Such as?" he urges.

Jo gives him a shrug. "Yellow jewels. A cave, somewhere in the ocean. You. And it's not just that either, I just," she stammers, and exhales. "I just have this really horrid feeling that something's going to happen. Like I'm not having these dreams for no reason."

Regulus is silent for a moment. His expression remains unreadable as he studies Jo's; his mouth pressed into a thin, unmoving line while her lips twitch. Every time he looks at her like that, Jo feels like she has been placed under a microscope. "Josephine, do you think you're a Seer?"

She frowns and snatches her hand away from him to cross her arms over her chest. "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you! It's an honest question," Regulus is quick to defend, though Jo can see the way the corner of his mouth twitches upwards, like he's fighting off a grin. Jo pouts. "Unnaturally perceptive, remember?"

"I don't think I'm a Seer, Regulus," Jo tells him with a roll of her eyes. "And I think half the people who claim they are one are talking out of their arses." She pauses, wiggling in her seat and casting her gaze towards the ground. Regulus has his ankles intertwined with hers under the table. "I've just got a feeling about this, alright?"

"Well, what do you think it all means, then?"

She shrugs. "Dunno. Haven't been able to figure it out. I made Dorcas pull cards for me and all she could tell me is that I'll have abundant wealth in the future."