An unlikely pair

10

Regulus twirled his wand nervously between his fingers, the smooth wood rolling back and forth in a rhythmic motion that betrayed his unease. He glanced toward the door, his storm-gray eyes flickering with uncertainty. The idea had been eating away at him for weeks, but asking for help—admitting he wanted to be like Sirius, like James—felt like exposing a fragile part of himself. What if they laughed? What if they thought it was just another silly whim of his?

But then Valentina happened. She had waltzed back into his life with her cool confidence and brilliant mind, proving herself an animagus in a way that felt as natural as breathing. That was the moment Regulus felt a flicker of hope. That was the moment he gathered every ounce of courage he had left and asked her to teach him. He could still see the surprise in her eyes, quickly replaced by an easy, unshakable smile. She had agreed without hesitation, and for the first time in ages, Regulus smiled back, truly smiled.

Now, standing in an unused classroom bathed in the dim light of an oncoming storm, he wasn’t sure whether to thank her or curse himself for asking. His heart pounded against his ribs like a caged bird, desperate to escape. He watched as Valentina moved gracefully across the room, her blonde hair catching the faint light streaming in from the stormy skies beyond the window.

“There’s a lightning storm coming,” she said, her voice calm but laced with purpose. “That’s why McGonagall moved the match between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. It’s the perfect time.” Her blue eyes softened as she turned to him and gently took his hand. “Let’s go.”

Regulus let her lead him, though his feet felt weighted as if with lead. The classroom was silent save for the distant rumble of thunder, and the air was thick with tension. He clenched his wand tighter, the familiar grain of the wood grounding him slightly.

Valentina stopped in front of the window, gazing out over the Hogwarts grounds, her expression serene despite the flicker of nervous energy she could sense radiating off him. She turned to face him, her tone low and soothing. “Reg,” she began, the single syllable carrying more warmth than he thought possible. “If you keep worrying, it will go horribly wrong. You’ve got to trust your gut.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but her hand on his arm silenced him. “Listen to me,” she said, her voice dipping into something softer, something almost hypnotic. “Think of it like this: you’re back at Grimmauld Place, in your room. Sirius is there with you.” Regulus’s chest tightened at the memory, and his gaze dropped to the floor, but Valentina continued. “He’s telling you about his plan to escape. He’s begging you to come with him, to leave it all behind. What do you do?”

The memory hit him like a wave—Sirius’s wild, desperate eyes, the way his hand had stretched out, trembling with both hope and fear. Regulus closed his eyes, letting the familiar image flood his mind. His voice, when it came, was steadier than he expected. “I grab his hand without even thinking,” he said, his grip on his wand loosening as he exhaled deeply. “And I never look back.”

Valentina smiled, a soft, proud curve of her lips. “Exactly.” She reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out the animagus potion, placing it gently into his free hand. “That’s what I want you to do now. Don’t think. Don’t hesitate. Just act.”

Thunder growled outside, rolling across the grounds, shaking the glass in its frames. Valentina moved behind him, wrapping her arms loosely around his waist. He felt her warmth against his back, her steady presence grounding him. “When you see the first flash of lightning,” she murmured near his ear, “point your wand at your heart, say the incantation one last time, and drink the potion. Trust yourself, Regulus. Can you do that for me, my little lion?”