Being a Greengrass after all should sound pretty serene.
But being a part of "the Emeralds" should not, especially when hearts become entangled with the infamous Regulus Black.
Goodness, lawfulness, or evilness. Which path will they tread in the ti...
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January 27th, 1978
The light was cruel.
Avery groaned before her eyes even opened. Her mouth was dry, her head pounding like she'd tried to duel gravity and lost. She shifted under the covers, blanket tangled around her legs, and blinked blearily at the slant of morning light cutting across the dormitory ceiling.
She was in her bed. Thank Merlin.
Everything hurt. Her head. Her stomach. Even her pride, though that was more of a dull ache, somewhere under the memory of green silk and fairy lights and—
She sat up too fast. Regulus.
The kiss.
"Oh," she says out loud, pressing both hands to her temples like she could squeeze the memory out of her skull.
Someone, probably Pandora, had left a glass of water and a hangover potion on her nightstand. And beside it, tucked neatly beneath the base of her lamp, was a scrap of folded parchment.
With dread, she reached for it.
You were heavy.
Drink the potion.
We'll talk when your head stops trying to fall off.
—R.
She stared at the note for a long time. Then let herself fall back against the pillow.
"Kill me now," she mumbles to the ceiling.
✧˖°.☾
The potion worked—eventually. Though Avery still felt like her brain was made of fog and regret, at least the nausea had subsided by the time she made it down to breakfast. Her hair was in a braid she barely remembered doing.
The Great Hall was already half-full, the enchanted ceiling grey and overcast, reflecting the bleak state of her soul. As she slipped onto the Emeralds' usual bench at the Slytherin table, she immediately regretted coming down at all.
Dorcas was buttering a crumpet with surgical precision. Avery sat between Pandora and Barty, her eyes hidden beneath long lashes, head pounding. She was pretending to listen to Pandora's dreamy monologue about a book she'd stayed up reading, nodding occasionally.
Regulus took the seat across from her.
She didn't look up, but she felt it. The air shifted. Like a thread had pulled tight.
Pandora passed the pumpkin juice with an arched brow. "Also, are you alright, Ave? You were kind of a riot last night."
"Why? What happened?" Barty asks, eyes lighting up like he'd just been handed a gift. "Did she punch someone?"
"She was drunk," Pandora says breezily, swirling her spoon through her porridge. "Regulus walked her back to Ravenclaw."
