𝕿𝖗𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖗 - ʳᵉᵍᵘˡᵘˢ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ

Chapter 24: Get Him Back!

[ January 8th, 1977 ]

"WILL YOU stop that? It's distracting," Regulus grumbled, refusing to look up from his potions book.

"I'm not doing anything," she furrowed her brows, peaking her face between him and the book. He shook his head at her fondly, palming her by the forehead so he could resume reading.

"You're bouncing your knee so hard the table is shaking," he informed.

     She was startled to see that he was, in fact, correct. She hadn't even noticed the incessant up and down of her her leg, nor it's affect on the desk she had her elbows against.

     "Oh," she flushed, forcing her leg to a halt, "sorry, just anxious."

      In three minutes the dung bombs would go off, assuming McGonagall hadn't found them. In three minutes she would need to be over by Evan, assuming her nerves allowed her to move.

     "It's going to work," Regulus reassured, scribbling something in the margin of his textbook, "I didn't waste a day in detention for it not to."

     "It's so heartwarming how you value our time together," she drawled, eliciting a snicker from him.

     "I certainly valued the broom closet."

Her face burned, embarrassingly so. He'd been saying things like that a lot, ever since his comment to McGonagall. All class he'd been making her go red from her collar—which felt too tight—to her hairline. She knew, logically, it was only because he was trying to piss her off the same way he had when he'd called her pretty; however, after Sirius's 'revelation', she couldn't help but wonder...

     No. Regulus Black did not fancy her. And if he did, then she'd berate him until every non-platonic or non-loathing feeling inside of him was forced out.

     "Belle, it's go time," he whispered, gesturing up to the clock on the wall.

     She followed his hand and he was, once again, correct. One minute until the dung bombs would go off.

     She huffed out a heavy breath, standing on wobbly legs, "wish me luck."

     "Luck." He muttered.

     Without glancing back, she made her way towards the front of the classroom, weaving through desks and students alike. When she finally reached Evan, he was too busy not doing his work to notice her. His partner did, but Phillipa Abbott didn't warn him. Theona noted this, and fully planned to inform Evan that he couldn't trust the Hufflepuff once she and him were friends again.

"Hey, Evan," she greeted, her shoulders tense.

He didn't even glance at her, simply mumbling, "Theona."

Her heart yearned to hear him call her Thee. Soon enough, her mind comforted it.

"How's it going?" She asked absentmindedly, watching the clock like her life depended on it. Fifteen seconds.

"What do you want, Theona?" He deadpanned, with the same cadence and words that he had used on the train three weeks ago. It felt like it had been a lot longer than three weeks. It felt like a lifetime, really.