𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆, regulus black

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖𝟎: 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

As Rune lay in her bed, the oppressive darkness of her windowless room enveloped her like a suffocating blanket. The unfamiliar surroundings added to her sense of disorientation, leaving her feeling adrift in a sea of uncertainty. 

She had no idea where in the world she was. 

Her best guess, pieced together from the hours of traveling and other clues she had picked up along the way, placed her somewhere along the coasts of Europe. But even that was little more than a hazy guess in the absence of any concrete evidence.

Rune's stomach churned as she remembered her performance in Morocco. North African nobles and dignities from the Ministry of Magic had been in attendance.

 It was supposed to be a grand spectacle, a showcase of her for all to see.

But instead, she had stood frozen on stage, refusing to summon the transformation. She had watched in smugness as the audience grew restless, their murmurs of confusion and disappointment filling the air like a tangible force.

For Rune, it had been a moment of rebellion, a silent protest against the chains that bound her to the circus.

But now, as she lay in the darkness, the weight of her actions bore down on her. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had made some terrible mistake.

Rolo curled up next to her, her warmth a small comfort in the cold room. 

Her paw ventured under the pillow, instinctively seeking out the journal Rune kept hidden there. 

Rune sighed softly, her fingers absentmindedly stroking Rolo's fur as she thought about the countless times she had opened the journal, intending to write to him, only to close it again, the words caught in her throat.

Against her better judgment, Rune found herself missing Regulus, missing the warmth of his presence and the way his voice sent shivers down her spine. She replayed their conversations in her mind, each word etched into her memory like a precious treasure.

The minutes passed in a blur, the darkness of the room deepening as exhaustion washed over her like a tidal wave. 

And as Rune drifted into a fitful sleep, her dreams were haunted by visions of a world where blood curses didn't exist, and she was just a normal girl. 

But her dreams were abruptly shattered by the sound of scratching and mewling, echoing through the silence of the night.

With a start, Rune sat upright in bed, her heart racing as she scanned the darkness, trying to discern the source of the commotion. Rolo's hissing and scratching drew her attention to the foot of the bed, where her faithful companion stood her ground against an intruder.

"Rolo," Rune whispered, her voice filled with concern and confusion. But before she could reach out to comfort her feline friend, Honorius stumbled drunkenly forward, his presence casting a shadow over the already oppressive darkness.

His footsteps were heavy and unsteady. The scent of alcohol hung heavy in the air, mingling with the musty odor of the room. Rune's breath caught in her throat, her blood running cold, as she watched him approach, her instincts screaming at her to flee. But she forced herself to remain still, her muscles tensed and ready to spring into action at the first sign of danger.

"My Rune," Honorius slurred, his words slurred and distorted by the haze of alcohol. His eyes gleamed with a dangerous intensity as he surveyed her, his gaze lingering on her like a predator sizing up its prey. "Do you know how much money you lost me?"