- 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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
꧁✧✧✧꧂
𝕺utside, a stone's throw away from the lake is where she finds them.
Making the most of the clear blue skies, gathered around on two huge blankets, red of course, borrowed from the lion's den strewn across the grass, the seventh year Gryffindor clique plus one lovely Dorcas Meadowes. The Ravenclaw sits close to her girlfriend, rubbing light circles against the supple skin of her inner wrist, adding warning pressure whenever the complaints whined under breath amplify loud enough to reach where she doesn't want them to.
The unfailingly kind yet annoyingly persistent comeliness that is Lily Evans. Decades, it feels like, she's been at random quizzing their knowledge on every single topic that could possibly appear on their NEWT exam papers. Any flickers of hope that James Potter could swoop in and save the day have been long snuffed out, for as thrillingly fun as James Potter truly is, much to Sirius' horror, the shiny badge he wears as Head Boy has a switch for a seriousness.
One hundred percent he's backing up his academically driven girlfriend, just as motivated for everyone to revise for their important upcoming exams, reminding this is their futures at stake. Remus had scoffed and fairly pointed out that no matter the letter circled in red ink at the top of the page no one wants to hire someone that changes into a savage beast when the moon is full and is in chronic pain the rest of the phases. He'd managed skipping three rounds of questioning before Lily couldn't take it any longer, asking him the dates of the Goblin rebellions.
Peter picks up his low hanging head when his little rodent ears detect swishes of grass made by footsteps, blue eyes lighting up at the sight of the approaching younger girl.
"Please save us, Moonette. Or atleast put me out of my misery" He begs, yanking off his shoe and holding it up, coming to terms with his fate.
A groan, full of a pain worse than dying, leaves him when Romie merely pats him on the head, apologising lightheartedly,
"Sorry Pete, I'm striving to make it out the teen years before reaching that milestone"
Mary chuckles from where she's sprawled out nearby, sucking on a strawberry, "Some girls it's teen pregnancy they try to beat, no Romie's is ending life"
Point blank ignoring the small grunt earned from Remus, Romie crosses the threshold of the circle, stepping over tossed limbs and scattered flashcards to accept the invitation extended out. She sinks down beside the cocoa skinned girl, delighted to see her not only out of the bed she's been tightly cocooned in for the past several weeks, but out in the fresh air, somewhat enjoying herself.
Tentatively, Romie descends into her lap she happily pats, paying close attention to her face for any visible sign of discomfort. Touch alone is a big deal, touch after an unspeakable trauma like that is a huge deal. Romie would know. She also knows that it might be confusing, mind boggling that she's romantically involved with someone who shares the same serpent emblem, at one point in life shared the same beliefs as the disgrace of a human being who hurt her.
