- 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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𝕽egulus sucks on a peppermint sweet, glancing up from the book balanced on his lap.
"Would you two give it a rest? I can hardly hear myself think"
Sharp, bitter. Frustrated. His dark grunt is coated thickly in frustration. Because Regulus is frustrated, extremely so, to the point it's practically oozing out of the cracks and crevices of him, slipping into his comments and displaying itself like a storm on his face. And it's not gone unnoticed.
"Oh, is someone still a little sour that Miss Leggy Lupin hasn't sought them out yet?" Barty taunts, his palm slapping loudly against Evan's praising one hanging in the air, grinning back.
"Miss Leggy Lupin, I like it"
A sullen scowl crosses Regulus features, only just resisting the incredibly tempting impulse to hurl the solid hardback book in the direction of his friends' abnormally large heads. His grip tightens on the stiff edges, retorting back assertively,
"No, for all I care, she can never seek me out again, that would be a delight. What's not delightful is the fact that both of you somehow possess the inability to be silent"
After exchanging an unconvinced look for the first part of his reply, Evan fixes him with another grin, completely unbothered by the insult, ruffling a hand through his fair halo of curls,
"Being silent before a party is a crime, Reg. You have to get in the lively spirit"
Party. Regulus' frown deepens, the time in confusion, for he hadn't heard about this so called party happening tonight at this rather late hour. His grip slackens, wondering aloud before he could stop himself,
"Party? What party?"
"We've only talking about it for days. If you hadn't been so set on moping about Miss Leggy Lupin—"
Regulus interrupted quickly before the sentence could be finished, hissing venomously, "Stop calling her that"
A smirk tugs at Barry's mouth whilst he fastens his rather gothic style dangly earring to his ear, knowing exactly how, what he was about to finally reveal was going to affect his friend.
"It's Halloween, Reg. It's their last one"
Their. His brother and his band of mischievous misfit friends. It's their last one, their last Halloween in the castle before they're freed to the real, wild world. For the last couple of years, it's been impossible to escape the rumours and gossip about the infamous Marauders hosting their annual party in the Gryffindor common room at nightfall for the spooky holiday. The majority are always eager to attend, drown themselves with stolen booze and outdress the best dressers.
Regulus is mildly surprised he had managed to go without hearing the whispers of excitement the past couple of weeks, but then again, he has been retiring to his dormitory for the most part of the long, tiring days just passed. He's never attended one, never had the guts to show his face and watch his brother merrily throw his arm over the stupid ray of Sunshine that is James Potter, drunkenly pull him in and serenade him with slurred I love you's and you're the brother I've always dreamt of.
