"Your stories are the only thing no one can ever take away from you," she said quietly as if just remembering something.
"Then why don't you tell me your's?" the boy asked.
***
Constance Foster was the girl who went pret...
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It was yet another spring day coming to an end for the Hogwarts students. The exams were a day or two away and although most were studying frantically, some took a minute or two to brearhe and just clear their heads.
That was at least what Regulus was doing alongside his mysterious friend in the room of Requirement.
He had been thinking back to all their conversations and holding his quill ready to start a drawing when a sudden wave of unease came to him.
Quickly he stood up and went to look around a bit. But after looking at a few odd things that were probably muggle-made, he decided to start up a conversation for he knew the girl was there due to her somewhat loud breathing.
"What do you think of Quidditch?" he asked excitedly as he rummaged through the piles in the room again.
Since the last time the two spoke he felt more comfortable. In a way they managed to break the ice between them and could now speak a lot more freely than before. Even the girl seemed less defensive and calm.
At first he heard no answer only something that sounded like a book closing.
"Well, I like watching it, but to actually take part of the game...no,"the girl softly answered. Regulus had gathered from their conversations that there was something different about her voice. It was of course kind and soft most of the time, but it was not that which caught his attention.
It was the fact that it sounded like she wasn't used to expressing hate or anger. He could hear it. Every time she spoke against him she tried to hide. Sure she spoke a tad louder, but her tone was never venomous or mean. It was simpy louder trying to express her stand with confidence that probably surprised even her.
"Why not? Is it the bludgers?" the boy jokingly replied. Although he instantly regretted as it reminded him of his brother.
Unexpectedly the sudden mood change quickly faded when he heard the girl give a small laugh. He couldn't help not to draw a small smile himself.
"That. And flying in general."
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Constance
"How can you not like flying?"
"I just don't," she shrugged.
"It's the best feeling in the world. There is only you the broom and air. It's "
"Maybe for you, but I'd rather have my feet on the ground and a book in hand. That's the only freedom I need to feel."
"I would offer you lessons but unfortunately that would almost be impossible. No pupil can learn from an invisible teacher."
Constance chuckled," Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass.
"Why did you start writing?"
"I read a lot. One of the books I had as a child had different legends and myths. Also my summer's tend to be rather dull,"
"Mine too."
Lately Constance had felt that she could finally talk a bit more freely. Like she didn't have to hide her opinion any more or that she could say to the boy exactly what she wanted and even her fear and shaking when the duo talked somewhat vanished. There were moments she had to pretend to speak like Pandora without fear or like Miss Nutcombe state things slowly and clearly, however it was all becoming less and less uncomfortable for the girl. Everytime she felt more like herself.
When she thought about it she came to a conclusion that the comfort came from the fact she didn't know who the boy was and neither did he know how she was. It was easier. Easier to talk to someone without a face. Easier to admit things too.
Of course the two still had different opinions on a lot of things, but somehow they walked passed it.
Constance had been looking through the window before that question, but decided to look around herself and leave the book she had had settled in her lap on the sit.
