- 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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꧁✧✧✧꧂
𝕵une 24th 1979 was a tragically beautiful night.
Strewn across the velvety sky, a graveyard of stars, twinkling a vow to keep their secret until new life, restored life is breathed into the heart of the lion. Their lullabies to the moon are full of awe, almost drowned out by the disingenuous waves the milky glow is betraying. A guiding light. Protective light.
When they crash against the dark rock they stand on the high outcrop of, Regulus runs his fingers over his lips that taste of the salt sprayed in the breezy air. It's bitter, about as much as the ruthless billows fortifying the towering, faceless cave they're looking out on. Kreacher slaps his wrinkly hands over his bulging eyes, and Regulus can't tell if the preventative action is out of the pure terror he's re-living for the second time or disgust for the pitiful sappiness he's then regarding Romie with.
Either way, he uses the somewhat private time wisely, wrapping his arms around her in an impossibly tight hug he knows will be a heart-wrenching struggle to let go of. He bends his head around hers, hearing the breath she sucks in while reciprocating the clinging embrace. The breath is shaky, her grip is strong. Stronger than his. She's always been stronger than him, in the way she feels things, in the way she faces things.
Romie's facing this scared. Scared not for failing to make it out the cave alive, but for the sickeningly high chance whatever they have to do in there, they'll have to undergo alone. They couldn't share the load, bear the burdens. Not this time. She shivers a little, goosebumps standing the tiny swirls of baby hair on the nape of her neck. It's not the ominous pit growing in her stomach, or the cold wind she reckons is an admonition for the numbing waters. It's him. His touch, his effect.
His surprisingly warm palm slowly gliding up her back, cupping the uncovered area and stroking down those baby hairs with his thumb so tenderly it causes her heart to pang. It's a beautiful night and his words emotionally breathed into the minimal gap separating them are the tragedy.
"I love you"
Romie's throat burns, her eyes with tears she refuses to let fall. Tears were for firsts and lasts, beginnings and endings. She wasn't about to go into this believing it was their ending, a lost cause, a hopeless quest. A suicide mission. They had to cling to hope. Or what was left of it. Her heels lift off the jagged rock, carefully rolling onto her tippy toes to chase after the closeness when he stretches out to his taller height. She says it wholeheartedly, says it stubbornly like it's what will make them live to see another day.
"I love you"
A soft smile stretches across Regulus' lips and Romie can't not kiss the endearing creases enhanced by it. His most prominent wrinkle when they're the next generation's Monty and Mia. Before she pulls away, his head moves, aligning his parted mouth with hers in a kiss that momentarily deadens war's stress and fear. He ignores the heat radiating from his typically cooler skin and the muttered grouches that remind them of Kreacher's too close for comfort presence, whispering in a barely audible sigh,
