- 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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꧁✧✧✧꧂
𝕿racking down the popular Hufflepuff late at night had proven fairly difficult.
Although not ideal, Romie settled for the next best thing. Potions class. Unlike other classrooms where cramming students close together in the centre had been the desired target, the dark, dingy segment in the dungeons had separated work stations, distant enough to discuss private matters without the fear of being overheard. And the lack of broad daylight gave the same effect as the after curfew hours originally planned.
The only problem was Romie hadn't a single clue how to gently approach the subject plaguing her mind. Normally it's Hestia's role to broach the infamous feelings talk, Romie's style being more of the deny, deny, deny until eventually coming clean. She didn't know how or when or what she's even supposed to say.
Apparently figuring that out wasn't necessary, all the unsure side glances, abandoned open mouths and frustrated huffs speaking for themselves.
"What's the matter?"
Romie glances up from the wormwood plant she's deadheading, catching Hestia's eye. Deep brown in the partial darkness, but slowly warming into something that loosely resembles sensitivity when Romie gulps and quietly confesses,
"I did something bad. Awful"
She chews the soft inside of her cheek and moves her hands into position, waiting. Waiting for the well deserved reaction that requires the sole sense of comfort that efficiently works for her. Seconds pass, minutes too, free of the expected. Hardened features, jaded body language, harsh soul flinching words. Romie flinches herself, but Hestia doesn't. Because she's the epitome of wonderful.
Wonderful, honest and understanding. She lowers her hand from the handle of the stirrer extending out of their simmering potion, asking,
"Does it have something to do with the reason why we're partners today?"
The Gryffindor hums, not participating in the brief gander to the opposite side of the classroom where their usual partners for potions are amicably working. Pandora hadn't minded switching for the day, simply moving her belongings to the stool beside a deeply brooding Regulus. He hadn't minded Pandora's company in the slightest, the Ravenclaw had been considered a friend long before the company he desperately craved, regretfully missed had been.
If friends was the term most appropriate. Regulus doesn't think friends avoid other friends, and even on the off chance they do, it's barely a reoccurring thing. This was becoming a reoccurring thing, and it would be the biggest lie ever said to say he's a huge fan.
Hestia musters up a weak smile when his icy gaze clocks the attention, hurriedly turning back to her best friend chopping up the stems and murmuring,
"I thought you two were good now. I mean didn't Evan catch you, you know, shagging?"
