- ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴜs ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ
"You. Me. Hogsmeade. Tomorrow" Romie demands, leaving no room for objection.
Regulus slowly lifts his head from his book, briefly wondering if he's managed to land himself into a similar alternate dimension,
"Come again...
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꧁✧✧✧꧂
𝕿he lively, energetic buzz around the castle could only mean one thing on the crisp, Autumnal morning.
Quidditch.
Slytherin were playing against Hufflepuff for the first match of the season, much to the badger bunch's timidness and uncertainty. The house of forest green and silver had an awfully good track record the past decade regarding the well-loved Wizarding sport, whether that was earned by sly underhand tactics or not. Hufflepuff, on the other hand, not so much. That didn't stop them from striving to keep positive, though, and, the crowd majority would be in their favour, upping their encouragement that little bit more.
One usual Hufflepuff cheerer, however, couldn't be counted in that majority this year.
For Romie had a much bigger game than the likes of Quidditch commencing.
No matter how much her bolshie little heart wanted to deck all out, head to toe, in canary yellow and black, that would be a waste of a perfect opportunity to ignite the sparking rumours to an unstoppable wildfire. That didn't mean decking all out in Slytherin colours either, that would be too drastic, too far-fetched. She needed to go for something small, but big enough to develop a flame. A happy medium.
"Bets! Bets! Place your bets!"
Romie spies over the heads of those energetically trooping towards the grand pitch, easily finding the dealers the boisterous bout of voices belong to. She should've known. Hooking an arm around that of Pandora and Hestia's on her either side, she swerves out of the chain of people, steering towards the band of mischief makers up to no good.
Peter spots them first, perking up and smiling slightly from where he was standing between grinning James and Sirius. His mouth opens to speak, but it's not his voice that's heard loud and clear,
"Come to place a bet, oh dearest Roman Goddess?"
Sirius steps away from the young trio of optimistic Hufflepuff's and steps towards them in an eager lunge, grin boyish and eyes sparkling. Romie lets out a wry snort, retorting,
"Oh yeah, with all that spare gold I have laying around"
Sirius' grin fades, turning into somewhat an apologetic upturn at the corners for mentioning a tight subject he knew better than to divulge into right now. There'd been countless times over the years he and his Moony had ending up in long quarrels over the multitude of gold in Sirius' pocket, and the lack of in Remus'. The rest of the Marauders always aimed to help, in whatever ways possible, a loose galleon or two randomly turning up in their pockets, or passing over one found on the floor for good luck.
Perhaps that's why, upon hearing the conversation, James lunged forward in a similar manner his soul brother had, skilfully tossing a spare two galleons into the rising cauldron Peter was made in charge of.
