- 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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𝕵ames grins and playfully pokes the arm of the boy reclining beside him, teasing,
"I spy with my little eye a jealous Reggie"
Regulus promptly bats his finger away, his dark scowl deepening. Jealous, disgruntled, proprietorial, the possibilities are endless in respect of the scene burning his cornea's. He can't decide which pisses him off more, which is worse, that Sirius is sitting, a little too relaxed between the legs of his girlfriend or that he's coming to know the unrivalled magnificence that is her hair play.
It was supposed to be his brother teaching him how to braid for Romie. Not Romie doing the braiding for his brother.
"Like you can talk, James. You cry when I swap books with Remus"
While Regulus daren't withdraw his vigilant gaze from the twosome, he turns his head a fraction to send the copper haired witch collapsing onto the couch an appreciative smile. Lily cheers inside, pleased as punch to have bagged somewhat an alliance, a friendship with the withdrawn broodiness that is Regulus Black. Something she's had her eyes set on since the Halloween before last. Artemisia Lufkin meant nothing to the party. Except him.
Passing back the steaming cup of wild berry tea he kindly held and blew whilst she got comfortable, James defends, "Swapping books is a love language!"
"Or — hear me out, a fun pastime between friends" Lily suggests, bringing the tea to her lips, now the temperature perfect to drink.
James' reply is cut short, the catch phrase forcefully drilled into his mind that's been the cause for Wormtail's recent wetting accidents, channeling his wary attention elsewhere. Specifically where the tip of a wand is poking out a sleeve. The tip of a wand that's being directed inch perfect on his brother from another mother. Without thinking, he reaches out, scrabbling for the stick capable of anything. James is fast. But Regulus is faster.
A racketing series of yelps tear out the raven haired boy forever to be referred to as Hogwarts' Dreamboat. Regulus highly doubts the fawning fan-club would gladly salivate over this image, preferring neatly toenails trimmed, perhaps painted if into that sort of thing and ideally remaining inside the leather of his coddled boots. Not spurting out of them, growing rapidly fast to the length of Dumbledore's beard like they are as of right now. He can't bring himself to give a damn, caring only for one girl. His girl.
"My toenails! My boots!" Sirius cries out dramatically, knocking away the legs he had previously encased around himself in hopes to dive forward and save his beloved babies.
Unbothered, Regulus pushes his forefinger against the point of his wand, returning it to its safe, easy on hand, position. He ignores the shedload of gobsmacked eyes darting back and forth between him and hexed Sirius, ignores the blazing look Romie's throwing him for what seems to be an unprovoked attack, simply stating coolly,
