- 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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꧁✧✧✧꧂
𝕽omie points her wand at the chess piece, swishing in one precise movement.
The small noise of self-satisfaction causes Regulus to slowly raise his head, appraising the live rook standing on the wooden table in replacement. Outstanding grade worthy, he objectively determines, one ring adorned hand reaching out to gingerly stroke the glossy black beak of the beautiful raven, the other cracking open the near library window to set it free.
He watches it go, effortlessly rolling and somersaulting rather acrobatically in the early summer air. They didn't deserve their reputation based on old myths and legends, none of the black variety commonly linked to bad luck and ill omens do. Ravens, the grim, black cats, Regulus didn't think they were all that bad. Misunderstood. They're largely misunderstood.
"Regulus"
He snaps out of his daze, glancing to where Hestia is popping up in the segment of the library he and Romie have laid claim of to study together. They had their own private common room and textbooks of course, but it's started to become a regular thing where their study dates turn into more of a date and less studying. Students of all ages used the library's vast resources, the idea of an eleven year old gawking at a heated snog session is enough of a reminder to stay focused.
An affable smile blesses the Hufflepuff's lips, quietly explaining what she presents in her hand for him to take.
"I was up in the Owlery sending a letter and this arrived while I was there so I thought I may as well deliver it to you now. Looks important"
She wasn't wrong, the bright red ink reading private and confidential stamped in the top corner, alluding to urgency and importance. Though the distinct address isn't written in Walburga's sharp cursive or Mia's loopy letters, Regulus treats it with equal priority, muttering a short thanks as he peels off the familiar wax seal and unfolds the stack of papers.
Romie and Hestia look at each other, then look at him, trying to decipher the mood the contents has influenced him into. Other than the tent-like furrow in his dark brows as he does a quick flick through the other pages, what he's thinking, what he's feeling is as much of a mystery as the sender. Something that perseveres in the wordless outspread of his hand to Romie.
She stares down his open palm, stares up at the dramatically good looking side profile he's bestowing her sight with, raising an eyebrow and asking bluntly,
"Can I help you with something?"
Regulus hums, his eyes of silvery grey never leaving the file of ink filled pages when he answers, voice low and cool.
"Yes. I'll need a quill, preferably inked, to authorise the two hundred galleons you've had withdrawn from my Gringotts vault"
Hestia's hands dart to her mouth, silencing the gasp so loud she'd probably be issued a permanent ban from the library by Madam Pince. Chocolate eyes gobsmacked and rounder than bludgers, she chokes out,
