"Dance?"
"Dance?"
"Dance with me? Please?"
He asks me while wearing a wide, handsome grin on his face, eyes shining from all the butterbeers he's enjoyed this evening. The very same way mine are shining, the same way all of our eyes are.
Not just butterbeers, though -
But because we're happy;
Because we're back together.
Back together after being apart; back together as one unified group despite the constant strain of the worries we each carry. Worries over our world, over the threats of violence against us, against one another.
... Yes, we're back together. And we're determined to pretend, at least for tonight, that we've no troubles whatsoever. And we've even been so bold as to gather en masse in a public space, something we've been specifically cautioned not to do because of the risk of an attack against us.
But, reckless or not, we've gone and done it anyway.
Why?
Because at a certain point
What's life if you're not living?
And we're the sort that live by that rule, the type of friends that help each other to remember that.
... So even with the constant danger all around us ...
"Dance with me, Y/N! Or shall I now fall to one knee and beg?"
Ever one for dramatics, before I can manage my reply he goes and does exactly that, one knee on the floor of the pub as he repeats his plea to me again, his outstretched fingers wiggling eagerly as he sways his body from side to side in time to the live music.
Leaning forward in my seat and laughing at the sight of him before me like this, of course I accept, the warmth of our two hands meeting as he pulls me out of my seat and begins spinning us around wildly.
Though we're but a blur now, I still manage to make out all our friends all around us.
Everyone, all of us, here together tonight -
Don't you see?
We're all so desperate to pretend we live in normal times
Normal ...
... What the hell is normal, anyway?
Don't ask us; we're an entire generation who wouldn't know.
"How was home?"
It's an affectionate whisper in my ear, one that lands before we both begin giggling anew, arms swinging through the air as we spin then find our way back to one another.
"Amazing, as always."
I do hate lying;
I do -
I really, really do.
Especially to you.
And I really think - at least I hope - I'll never grow comfortable with it
Because if then ... then what will that say about me?
"And your parents? How are they?"
Another brief pause as we twirl together once more, his hands finding their way back to my waist and guiding me forward, the two of us nearly crashing into a small table of four middle-aged witches sharing drinks together.
Apologising profusely but unable to contain our now raucous laughter, we ignore their pointed glares as we guide one another back to the centre of the dance floor to continue our dance.
"Very well. And yours?"
"... I don't like seeing them age."
It's a sudden somberness, an unmistakable sadness cutting sharply through our mirth.
Though I understand why -
His parents are older than all the rest of ours, and by quite a great deal;
And he's always been so close to the both of them.
"I know. But they're well?"
"Well, yes. Healthy; yes."
Spinning me once more, this time he pulls me the closest to him yet, and as we sway there together, he whispers in my ear, whispers words so soft that only I can hear -
A secret now delivered from friend to friend:
"Y/N."
"Prongs."
"I want to tell you something no one else knows about. Not yet."
"And what's that?"
"Promise first."
"Promise?"
"That you won't breathe a word of it? That you'll keep it a complete secret from all the rest of them? Even that nosy little bee Moony?"
Giggling at this, we slow but continue moving together and I nod as he cups both hands around my ear to ensure complete discretion. And then, there in the middle of the crowded dance floor, he whispers to me, "Evans and I ..."
Don't ask me how I know exactly what's coming next. Perhaps I'm more perceptive, more intuitive than I give myself credit for. Then again, perhaps it's just absurdly obvious.
Regardless, I know.
I just know.
And yet, for his sake, to indulge him I pretend as though I'm oblivious; I make a show of whispering back, "Evans and you ...?"
"We're getting married."
YOU ARE READING
Coiled (Book 1 of 2)
Fanfiction"This is our story: Reggie, Evan, and I." A Marauders Era story that follows the reader (FMC), Regulus Black & Evan Rosier through their last year at Hogwarts into the First Wizarding War. This is book 1 of 2, and contains the first two parts of th...
