SNAKE - Regulus Black

Chapter six ~ Jealous Hearts

The first sign of Regulus's attempt at reconciliation came in the form of a beautiful silver necklace, with an emerald charm nestled against Cassandra's pillow. She found it upon returning from Potions class, her eyes narrowing at the glimmering piece. It was far too extravagant for an apology, and she knew she should throw it away—anything this over-the-top felt insincere. Yet something about the way it sparkled under the candlelight made her hesitate. Without thinking, she wrapped her fingers around the cool metal, feeling its weight in her palm. She told herself it was temporary as she slipped it into her drawer, hiding it beneath a stack of parchment.

The gifts continued. A bouquet of enchanted roses appeared on her desk the next morning, their petals shifting between shades of deep green and midnight blue. When she picked them up, they bloomed into shades of soft pink, and then, to her horror, a bold red. Cassandra groaned. Of course, they were charmed to change with her emotions—Regulus always did have a flair for the dramatic. She contemplated tossing them into the common room fireplace, but the way the roses warmed in her hand gave her pause. It wasn't like him to be this persistent. She placed them on the windowsill, leaving them to glow in the soft morning light.

Days passed, and the gifts kept coming. A small, ornate box of chocolates appeared on her bed one evening, accompanied by a handwritten note. The sight of Regulus's neat, elegant script made her pause:

"Cassandra, I know I cannot change the past, but I hope you know how deeply I regret our argument. You are worth more to me than pride or stubbornness. Please allow me to make it up to you."

She closed the letter slowly, her fingers lingering on the edges of the parchment. His words felt genuine, almost vulnerable in a way that Regulus rarely showed. Cassandra tried to remain unaffected, telling herself that forgiveness would be too easy—that he didn't deserve it. But as she stared at the note, her heart softened, just a little.

It was a week later, after Regulus had all but inundated her with gifts and gestures, that Cassandra finally relented. She found him waiting for her after Transfiguration, standing by the castle's courtyard archway, his expression cautious.

"You're not going to stop, are you?" she asked, her voice tinged with exasperation.

Regulus smiled, and it wasn't his usual confident smirk—it was softer, relieved. "Not until you forgive me," he replied.

She sighed, crossing her arms. "Fine. But don't think I'm letting you off that easily." Her tone was stern, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

Regulus's eyes brightened. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

Later that evening, they made their way to the Astronomy Tower together. The air was crisp, the night sky clear and dotted with countless stars. Cassandra found herself stealing glances at Regulus as they climbed the stairs. His face was relaxed, the tension that had been present for the past week seemingly lifted. There was something disarming about him when he wasn't trying so hard—when he allowed himself to just be.

As they settled into the Astronomy class, Professor Sinistra began her lecture, pointing out constellations and assigning them observational tasks. Cassandra tried to focus on her star chart, but she kept feeling Regulus's presence beside her, a warmth that made her chest tighten. Every so often, he'd lean over, his shoulder brushing against hers as he pointed something out—a star here, a detail there—and she found herself drawn into the easy rhythm of their conversation. The usual tension, the guardedness that she often felt around him, seemed to dissolve under the starlight.

They whispered about the stars, the constellations, and the mythology behind them. Regulus's voice was soft, his knowledge of the stars vast and surprisingly poetic. Cassandra listened, the irritation she had held onto for so long slowly melting away. By the time the class was over, she almost didn't want to leave the tower.