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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February 12th, 1979
Avery woke up with a smile she couldn't bite back.
The Ravenclaw girls' dormitory was quiet, morning light soft against the stone walls. It wasn't a particularly special morning, but Avery felt different. Like something inside her had finally clicked into place.
Last night hadn't been some wild, world-changing event. It was just... a kiss. And a conversation that had unraveled more honesty than she'd expected from Regulus Black. But that was enough. She got dressed without overthinking, tied her tie loose, and walked down to the Great Hall like she hadn't been grinning into her pillow just a few minutes earlier.
At the Slytherin table, the Emeralds were in full form. Evan was dramatically retelling some story that probably wasn't his to begin with. Barty was groaning over a Transfiguration essay. Dorcas and Pandora were whispering between bites of toast, both raising their heads as Avery slid into her seat beside Regulus.
"Good morning," she whispers to him.
Regulus doesn't turn to look at her, but his mouth lifts at the corner — a private little smile she's beginning to recognize as hers alone.
"Morning, Avery," he says quietly, eyes fixed on his cup of coffee like it's the most fascinating thing in the world.
Evan keeps talking, as animated as ever. Something about a third-year who apparently jinxed his own eyebrows off trying to impress a girl in Charms. "I mean, what was he even aiming for?" Evan's voice rises. "A love charm? Mate ended up looking like a plucked owl!"
Avery pours herself some pumpkin juice, trying not to notice the way Barty is very obviously watching her and Regulus from across the table. There were no stolen touches or secretive whispering. It wasn't deliberate, this pretending. It was just easier. There was no whispered plan to act normal — it simply came naturally. But neither of them could hide the soft edge in their voices or the split-second smiles that kept tugging at their mouths.
"What's going on with you two?" Barty's voice cuts through the quiet chatter, and Avery stifles a sigh. It was only a matter of time.
She glanced across the table at him, feigning surprise. "We're just in a good mood," she says, keeping her voice light and breezy.
Barty's gaze didn't waver as he scrutinized them, clearly not buying it. "I don't know," he says, tapping his quill against his parchment. "You both are acting like someone slipped a love potion into your pumpkin juice."
Avery's eyes flicked to Regulus, who was still staring into his coffee cup, now looking unusually intrigued by the swirling brown liquid as if it held all the answers to the universe. Avery resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She took another sip, feeling the warmth of her own amusement. "Barty, darling," she says sweetly, "if we were under the influence of anything, I think it'd be something far stronger than a love potion. Something... like a solid morning mood. You should try it."
