Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Josephine endured yet another apparition lesson, and quite frankly, it is becomes rather monotonous. The routine feels unvarying, with the same steps being reiterated week after week.
Adding to her dissatisfaction, the upcoming April test seems like a distant possibility, given that she will still be sixteen at the time. Nevertheless, she can't help but take pride in her standing as the top performer in the class.
As she walks down the hallway, a frustrated sigh escapes her lips. The effects of the truth potion have finally worn off, and she spent most of her time locked in Helena's dorm until it had fully dissipated.
While grateful for the distractions that keep her mind occupied, Josie can't escape thoughts of Regulus. She despises the repetitive cycle of emotions—wavering between sadness and anger. It seems ironic that the first boy she ever loved is someone she can't be with.
"Josie!" a voice calls out from behind, and she halts. It's Sirius.
"I don't really feel like talking," she half-jokes.
Sirius catches up, taking a moment to catch his breath. "Yeah, well... I'm sorry," he utters again.
Rolling her eyes, Josie asks, "What do you need?"
He hands her a slip of paper. "Order meeting," he says in a lowered voice.
"Right, thanks," she replies, trying to keep annoyance out of her tone. "See you later—"
Her eyes lock with Regulus a few feet away, his gaze fixed on her and Sirius. Her throat tightens, but she quickly clears it. "See you later," she repeats, turning to leave.
Forcing herself not to glance back at Regulus, Josephine focuses on the pain of picking at her nails, steering her thoughts away from the ache in her heart.
~~~
"I'll catch up with you in the dorm; I just..." Josephine struggles to explain to Dorcas as they distance themselves from Dumbledore's office. The Order meeting has concluded, and she needs to meet up with Tom.
Dorcas frowns. "It's okay, Josie. I'll meet you in the dorm later."
Dorcas probably assumes it has something to do with Regulus.
For once, it doesn't.
Josie nods slowly before parting ways with Dorcas and heading towards the passageway.
Merlin, her mind has a lot to focus on.
Lately, she has focused mainly on her emotional issues, particularly regarding Regulus. Now, she wonders how her mother, Serena would have dealt with it. What was Serena like? Hopefully, this summer, if she finds her aunt, she will discover.
Is Serena similar to her, or is Josie more like her dad?
She knows her appearance is a blend of both. Most of her looks come from Aspen—the dark hair and dark eyes.
Josephine absentmindedly picks at her nails as she turns the corner, the passageway up ahead.
Sighing as she finally reaches it, she is just about to open the door to go inside when—
"Josephine," a familiar voice calls from behind her.
Her breath catches as she slowly turns around.
"Regulus," her voice matches his, devoid of emotion. Her heart races.
What does he want? He hasn't spoken to her in days, and she isn't in the mood to talk to him.
His gray eyes scan her entire body before settling on the wall behind her, a bit of the door exposed. "Where are you going?"
"Why do you care?" she shoots back.
Regulus' entire demeanor shifts. A defensive wall emerges between them, a self-protective barrier.
Coward.
Despite the fake dating with Mary, she still doesn't want to inflict pain on him. The conflict within her intensifies. She yearns to unleash her frustration, to scream and yell at him. Part of her desperately wishes he would stay and say her name with that warmth in his tone.
"I don't care," Regulus replies.
She absentmindedly picks at her nails, and Regulus's eyes follow the movement, lingering on her bloody and injured nails.
"Then leave me alone."
Regulus briefly glances at her face, his eyes holding an emotion she doesn't want to decipher. Then he turns away and leaves. Her shoulders slump, and a relieved breath escapes once he distances himself. He doesn't look back.
She isn't sure if that makes her more upset or not.
Josephine turns and enters the passageway.
She knows no one would believe she could be sneaking off to meet Tom Riddle. She ponders what about her conveys an inability to be evil or a spy.
Her breathing quickens as she continues down the passageway, trying to stave off tears. All she truly wants is the comfort of Regulus once more.
When she reaches the end of the passageway, she wipes away the few tears that have fallen. Then, she forces herself back into the facade of revenge.
It's becoming easier with time.
Easier to tap into the reservoir of anger and resentment.
Josephine isn't certain if that's a good or bad thing.
She regulates her breathing as quickly as she can before leaving the passageway and making her way to the Shrieking Shack.
As usual, Tom is already there. Upon entering, she immediately begins recounting all the information—the Order's plans to send scouts to a location, and details of their attacks and strategies.
What she refrains from mentioning is the escalating intensity of the Order's attacks. They are gearing up to employ more potent forces as time progresses. It appears that the weariness among most adult members of the Order is increasing with each passing day. They long to diminish the threat and return to their normal lives.
If only it were that simple.
Tom nods subtly. "These attacks seem more frequent than usual," he observes.
She concurs with a nod. "Other Order members appear weary of the ongoing back-and-forth. Ensure you're prepared."
Tom shoots her a glance at her words, and she swiftly reels herself back in.
"And the necklace?"
She has forgotten about that.
"I've searched the tower, the Room of Requirement, and even scoured the library for any mention of it—"
"Don't look in the library," Tom interrupts. "Don't let Dumbledore know what you're researching."
Josie absentmindedly picks at her nails. "Okay. I won't check there anymore."
Obviously, she isn't looking for it at all.
"Good. Find the necklace soon, Josephine, or else this deal of ours will be over." The words are harsh, the coldness in his voice unwavering.
She swallows. "Okay," is all she manages to say before swiftly departing, just as quickly as she had arrived.
