Annabelle Potter Younger sister of James Potter shared lots of traits with her brother like her love for Quidditch and Pranks. But she hated being compared to her brother all the time. She was in ways better than James. She was Calmer and Politer th...
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A sliver of moonlight cuts through the dark room, my eyes land on her, and my heart skips a beat. She's asleep on the armchair, the soft glow of the room's ambient light casting a gentle halo around her. She looks quite uncomfortable.
Careful not to wake her, I peel back my blanket. The hard floor sends a chill through me as I tiptoe across the room. Her features come into view - brows relaxed, lips parted slightly. Shadows trace the delicate curve of her cheek. She looks so soft and untroubled.
Gently, I slide my arms underneath her, one around her back, the other beneath her knees. Her head lolls against my chest, a sensation of warmth and tenderness enveloping me. She stirs slightly, a small, contented sound escaping her lips. My heart beats erratically as I feel her nuzzle into me, a natural and instinctive response to the closeness. We've never been this close before. It's strange yet feels completely right, her body molded to mine. I wish I could freeze this moment.
The world falls away beyond this sheltering room. No sound, no light, nothing exists except her curled in my embrace. I stand completely still, scared to shatter the quiet spell that has engulfed us.
But then reality sets in. Panic prickles at my skin as I realize I didn't think this through. Should I let her continue sleeping on the uncomfortable armchair? Or maybe on the sofa, though it's not much better. The weight of indecision settles on me.
Examining her slumbering form, I notice the furrowed brow, the slight twitch of discomfort. It's evident she needs a better place to rest. As I consider my options, a snap decision forms in my mind. The idea of leaving her in this awkward position isn't an option. A plan takes shape: no one should be awake at this hour. I can sneak her into my dorm without causing a stir. Taking a deep breath, and make my way to the Dungeons.
Shadows play on the walls as we move through the quiet castle. I feel the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing, the vulnerability of her sleep, adding to the weight in my arms. The soft echo of my footsteps is the only sound.
As I enter, the Slytherin common room is empty, and I carefully tread the familiar path to my dormitory. Each creak of the stairs feels amplified in the quiet night, making me feel scared. As I push open the door to my room, the soft glow from the embers in the fireplace welcomes us. MacMillan and Evans were sound asleep on their beds, and I felt a relived sigh escape my lips.
I gently lay her on my bed, the sheets a contrast to the hardness of the armchair. Her features relax in the flickering light, the lines of tension smoothing out. She takes in another deep breath as she shifts a little to get more comfortable. I stand there for a moment, watching her, feeling the hushed magic of the night.
I closed the curtain around the bed, creating a cocoon of privacy in the dimly lit room. The soft fabric embraced the bed, shielding her from the outside world. After ensuring she was comfortably settled, I took a seat by her feet, my back finding the support of the cold stone wall.
I watch as she stirs, a gentle rustle of the curtain accompanying the subtle movement. Her eyes, heavy with the remnants of sleep, slowly open, revealing a glimpse of the world beneath her long lashes. "Regulus," she murmurs, her voice a soft melody coated in the remnants of sleep. My heart skips a beat at the sound of my name on her lips.
"Yeah," I respond, my voice unintentionally breathy, the air thick with the unspoken."Why are you sitting there?". I meet her gaze, drawn into the depth of her eyes, pools of warmth reflecting a question.
I rub my neck, eyes sliding away from her probing gaze. A half-truth perches on my tongue. "If I'm not in my bed, Rosier and MacMillan will notice and be curious about who is in my bed. Ask questions" The air between us holds a certain fragility,
"I am in your bed," she says more to herself than to me, a quiet realization that drifts through the room. I choose not to answer, letting a small, knowing smile play on my lips. Her hands extend towards me, an invitation and a reassurance.
"I don't bite, you know," she adds, and I chuckle nervously, "You can sleep next to me." She shifts towards the wall, creating a space for me. I hesitate for a moment, before deciding to join her. My legs unfurl with a relieving stretch as I edge into the vacant space. Hyperaware of each point our bodies meet - her shoulder, warm against mine; my elbow nestling into the dip of her waist.
Her elbow grazes mine as she rolls over, sending sparks skittering across my skin. Our eyes lock in the dim light. She is still drunk in sleep, I can tell by the way her eyes droop a little as if she is intoxicated.
Slowly, delicately, her fingers trail down my arm, raising goosebumps in their wake. Her palm slides against mine. I shiver despite the shared warmth, praying she can't feel my racing pulse from where our hands meet.
She reaches up and cradles my jawline, a touch feather-light yet searing. My breath catches. She tugs my face nearer until we're sharing the same pillow, noses nearly touching. Her blue eyes, usually bright, now carry a deeper hue, reminiscent of a vast, mysterious ocean.
Before I can process or respond, she tilts her chin and brushes her lips to mine. They're petal-soft, tender. My mind whites out. "G'night Reggie," she breathes. It's as if she's unaware of the fireworks she's just set off in my head. She melts back into the mattress, into dreams, leaving fire burning beneath my skin.
"Good night, my love," I whisper into the darkness between us. Next to me, her chest rises and falls in ocean-wave rhythms. Each slow exhale stirs the downy hairs along my arm. The scent of smokey vanilla clings to her hair, mingling with traces of lavender soap.
I study her face, peaceful as if carved from marble. I pull the blankets to my chin and turn on my side, shapes and sounds fading as I spiral down into welcome oblivion.
Hello Everyone
The new Chapter is here. Have fun. Keep Voting and commenting. Short Chapter but I relly wanted to put this Regulus POV here because I am always think how he is feeling in every scene but I dont get the chance to show it to you. I mean even in the potions one I have this idea in my head that even though he is making this bold statements he is losing his mind over her reactions. So anyway just a little bit of what is going on in Regulus's head. Hve fun.
