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"I thought I'd find you here,"
Reyna turns her upper body towards George Weasley and lets out a deep exhale. As he gazes at her physical injuries, a twinge of guilt courses through him. A cut on her chin is encompassed by a vivid purple bruise, and an almost mirror-image wound is situated above her left eyebrow.
"What do you want?"
Reyna's tone held no warmth, it was short and snippy which causes George to sigh. But under her facade, he could see she was tired of something, possibly him.
"Thanks," George says, taking a seat next to her.
"So you're just sitting with me now?" Reyna asks the wizard. "Wait is this the part where we hold hands and start singing kumbaya?"
"Go to hell,"
"I tried, the devil said I misbehaved too much,"
"Now that isn't surprising,"
"Now why are you really here?" Reyna asks. "You don't come to me of all people unless you want an argument or you're really desperate. Seeing as I saved your life I doubt it is the former so I'm going to assume you're desperate, I'm flattered but-"
"I know you were the fox that saved me by the Whomping Willow,"
George's words left Reyna at a loss for words, almost causing her heart to briefly pause. After swallowing hard, the witch tried to speak but found herself unable to find the right words.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Reyna states, staring at the wide expanse of the Black Lake.
"Yes you do," George replies. "You're an awful liar Lupin"
"Honestly Weasley," Reyna rolls her eyes, confidence slightly restored. "As much as I love Fred, you two are losing your mind. Foxes saving you, foxes in your dormitory?"
"I know it was you and I'll prove it,"
"Good luck with that,"
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
The odorous stench of mould and dampness permeated every inch of the Shrieking Shack, assaulting Reyna's senses as she cautiously treaded the decaying floor. The walls of the building were crumbling and rotting away around her. Every step Reyna took was a game of chance, the slightest misstep could result in the witch falling through the floor.
The witch gracefully removes the bag from her shoulder, carefully handing it over to the Azkaban escapee who eagerly begins to consume the contents with fervour. Reyna's expression is one of discomfort as she observes food getting stuck in the man's unkempt beard, prompting her to avert her gaze away from the unpleasant sight.
"Thank you," Sirius grins at the witch, wiping his mouth with the dirty sleeve of his Azkaban uniform.
"Here,"
Reyna sticks the entirety of her arm into the small bag that was always slung around her shoulder. She grabs the bundle wrapped in brown paper before tossing it at the man. Sirius opens the package to reveal simple muggle clothes paired with an old pair of combat boots.
"Can't imagine a twelve-year-old uniform is all that comfortable," Reyna comments.
"They attract fleas like you wouldn't believe," Sirius replies.
"I'm pretty sure that's just the smell," Reyna states.
The stench that emanated from Sirius was eye-watering. Years of damp, moulding conditions had led to the man smelling as though he had crawled from the very depths of the sewers.
Before Sirius can leap to his defence, Reyna points her wand at him. A violent stream of water douses the man who coughs and splutters. With another flick of Reyna's wand, a wooden board turns into a dressing panel as sponges descend upon the man.
"You can turn around,"
The man standing in front of her appeared entirely unrecognizable. The accumulation of filth and grime that had previously obscured his features was now absent, exposing a fresh and youthful countenance, marred only by a few well-earned creases. His damp tresses clung to his face, and he was wearing the simple clothes provided by Reyna. As the witch wiggles her fingers, Sirius feels a warm breeze enveloping him, while her eyes flicker orange. He notices his curls losing the weight of the water and springing back to their natural state.
"I look amazing," Sirius beams into the cracked mirror on the wall.
"You're looking into a broken mirror," Reyna quips. "I thought I heard something shatter when you smiled"
"Oooh you're mean," Sirius teases the witch. "You're definitely Marianne's daughter. Let me guess, your father is about to tear his hair out every time someone slightly inconveniences you"
"Fuck off,"
"Hit a sore spot- OUCH!"
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