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PRENDS MA MAIN | Regulus Black x F!Reader

summary: the Malfoy's spring ball, a startling betrayal, and a rivalry that just might become so much more when a certain grey eyed boy swallows his fear and follows you out of the ballroom and into the rain. [12K]

C/W: cheating (not from reader or regulus), a lil angst, lucius getting revenge for the reader but no scene including the actual act, emotional breakdown/mild panic attack, slightly defensive/mean reader at first, an actually horrendous amount of pining and one almost kiss

A/N: I'm definitely considering a part 2 (that will not be as long as this lmao) where we get that first kiss, so if that's something anyone would like to see, feel free to send me ideas for how their first kiss should go!!

song inspo: love story by indila

It was an awful thing to witness.

A terrible, sickening humiliation, because you had never thought there was reason to look deeper into their interactions together.

You had never believed you needed to think twice about how earlier in the night your boyfriend had looked almost dazed, eyes wide and lips parted, whilst you had descended the stairs towards him with her and Narcissa at your side.

His voice a soft rush, an awed murmur, for the compliments that had fallen from his mouth like flower petals.

There had been no second guess there either - whether his attempts at charm had ever been made for all of you at aIl and instead was just a way for him to compliment her without looking suspicious.

When you had swept arm in arm into the Malfoy’s spring ball, your gaze stolen away by the elegant vines that crawled the length of the walls and up onto the ceiling, housing bright leaves and flowers with pale petals that rained down in soft flutters, tiny glowing lights dancing between them, you had never considered that instead of sharing your awe, his gaze had been taken by her.

And you hadn’t thought anything of it when he’d asked her to dance after the hours had ticked by and he’d only danced once with you.

It was normal, wasn’t it? To dance with friends at these things - especially if they came without a date of their own.

You danced with Lucius all the time and even Barty and Evan on the rare occasion that they wandered over from their table, parting for a few moments from their sullen grey eyed friend that refused to have anything to do with you.

It didn’t mean anything.

Your boyfriend just didn't like the ‘sappy’ sounding music that often drew your wistful gaze to the dancefloor before one of your boys stepped in and offered their hand in his stead. He didn’t like the proximity with so many others watching, the public intimacy of it all.

In his own words, he simply wasn’t one for dancing or dances in general.

But then you’d been too distracted flitting between your friends to notice that one song had ended and another had begun, neither your boyfriend nor your friend returning as the music swelled through the room, softer than it had been previously, slower. Romantic.

It was Lucius who noticed first.

The direction of your friend’s gaze drifting lazily to somewhere beyond your shoulder before those grey eyes of his suddenly sharpened, the warmth in them morphing into something unfathomably colder, crueller, as he glowered at whatever had caught his attention.

Any hint of the slight, soft smile he’d held for you and the girl tucked against his side, gone, like such a light thing had never even existed in the Malfoy heir in the first place.

You didn’t notice until Narcissa registered the way her boyfriend had stiffened beside her and curiously followed his frigid stare, her own terrifying shift in expression and sharp intake of breath being what finally caught your full attention.

It made you forget about the story you had been telling, words trailing off slowly as your eyes flickered between them, brow pinched in a concern before you made to turn around so you could discover the cause of your friend's unhappiness.

It wasn’t exactly rare for Lucius’ mood to turn at the drop of a hat, for someone he didn’t like to cross his path and draw out that withering glare of his.

But for Narcissa to look so incensed too was something else entirely.

“What’s the matter - please don’t tell me it’s Lu’s lovesick stalker and her awful mother trying to convince your parents to break your engagement again. Honestly, it's just becoming a bit alarming now – oh–”

The sound that came out of you was weak. A pitiful noise like you’d been struck in the stomach mid-sentence and you hated it.

Despised the way something in your chest lurched and cracked, tears pricking at your eyes, as you caught sight of them.

They were swaying more than actually dancing. Chest to chest. Her arms wrapped around his neck, his around her waist, not an inch in between them.

But it was the way they were looking at each other was enough to make the sudden onslaught of nausea swirl unforgivingly in your gut. Soft. Starry-eyed. Sickeningly doting.

It looked like they were in love.

Like they had been for months, maybe even longer, and now that they were holding each other it was as if they couldn’t hide it or rather they didn’t care to since it seemed like no one else existed outside of the bubble they had encased themselves in.

Certainly not you or the dozens of other people that they were humiliating you in front of.

You wanted to vomit - prayed in your mind to any deity that would listen, magical or muggle, that you wouldn’t.

Were they truly so disgustingly infatuated with each other that they didn’t realise what they were doing or was it something worse than that, an even deeper betrayal because the both of them knew you.

They knew how you hated to cause a scene because it was so deeply ingrained in your being that emotional outbursts in the presence of others were undignified at best and an unforgivable display of weakness and vulnerability at worst.

Had they planned this because they thought they could count on your silence, your restrained calm - did they believe that it would save them from you?

Honestly, you weren’t too sure you could trust yourself no matter where your opinion on such public displays typically stood or that you knew the consequences from your parents would be severe if you embarrassed them in front of their peers.

There was too much of a searing rage coiling within your chest.

It mixed violently with every other emotion that was surging through you, the blood in your veins bubbling and spitting, your magic crackling with it, and the thought of drawing your wand and reducing their precious moment to cinders and ash grew more alluring with each passing second that they continued on unaware.

How had you been so fucking blind?

Had any of your friends noticed something you hadn’t and just not known how to tell you? Had others?

You watched the way he smiled at her as she laughed, bile rising in the back of your throat as the murmuring of something sweet made her chin tilt up and oh god, they wouldn’t.

They wouldn’t.

They would.

In a blink, his lips were on hers and then you were stumbling back, jaw clenched so tight you thought your teeth might shatter, desperate to choke down the horrified gasp that burned before it ached when it sank back down in your chest like a stone weight.

The fire that had been snaking itself around your too-fast beating heart sputtered and died out, swallowed up by the shock that seemingly drowned everything else with it and in its place, a terrible hollowness had been left. An overwhelming sense of nothing that you were completely unprepared to deal with.

Cold hands on your shoulders caught you before you could embarrass yourself further by tripping over the hem of your dress. And it should have made you feel better when you looked up to find Lucius staring down at you with a dark, livid gleam in his eyes.

A cruel look on his handsome face that told you he would stride over there right now, elegant even in his most wrathful state, and quietly interrupt the traitorous lovesick fools before leading your boyfriend away to another room.

Somewhere private, in another wing perhaps, where no one would hear the screams as he cast curse after curse. The unholiest ones he could imagine, if that was what you wanted.

It should have made you feel better when Narcissa’s gentle fingers wrapped around your wrist, the familiar touch soothing but not enough to stop you from feeling like you were drowning, her voice soft even if the words she directed at the figures still embracing in the middle of the dancefloor weren’t.

Instead, you hardly registered it when her tone grew worried, or when her boyfriend’s hands on your shoulders squeezed briefly to try and bring you back to yourself.

You didn’t really think about how it would look if you went rushing out of there instead of pretending everything was fine like you had always been taught to when things went wrong.

Head high, shoulders straight and expression schooled into the perfect image of cool indifference.

Above it all, as a pureblood should be.

No, all you could focus on was the sickly kind of heat that was rolling over you, creeping around your ribs and up your neck, the way you couldn’t see properly through the thickening gloss of tears, and the fact that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t breathe.

Merlin, you just needed to fucking breathe.

So you tore away from your friends without another word, mumbling excuses and apologies that may or may not have made sense, unable to hear the way Narcissa called for you or how Lucius quietly told her to give you the time you needed to be alone when she tried to follow.

You ducked your chin and wove between tables with their crisp white cloths and intricate centrepieces, heels furiously clicking against the floor as your steps hurried you past guests that hovered at the edge of the dancefloor like vultures.

Their sharp stares tracking every misstep, every fumbled spin and weak lift, expressions gleeful and lips stained blood-red from the wine as they whispered poison into each other's ears.

And where once you wouldn’t have been able to resist saying something, resulting in a hand clapped over your mouth and a smooth apology offered by Lucius that no one could resist being charmed by, now you were just grateful that their attention wasn’t on you.

But someone’s was.

Grey eyes had been drawn to you from the very moment you wandered into the ballroom at the beginning of the night, breath hitching in a too tight chest at how beautiful you looked, stunning in a dress that was more like a work of art.

A divine thing that was all shimmering pearls and exquisite beading, material that spilled like water and floated around your feet as you walked.

The familiar boy had watched, mesmerised, as your own eyes glittered, sweeping over the decor with the kind of delight that made him wish he could capture it forever. Memorise in the depths of his very soul the mischievous smile that you couldn’t fully hide behind your hand whilst Narcissa whispered to you through the elder Malfoy’s welcoming speech.

Your quiet chuckle disguised beneath an awfully fake cough when Lucius’ stern but fond gaze fell on you both from where he stood beside his parents.

He wanted to hoard the soft expression you so rarely bestowed upon others but gave to your boyfriend who in a thousand lifetimes would never be worthy of it.

Never be worthy of you.

To curse the waste of space where he stood for being the one who got to revel in the warmth of it yet not appreciate how lucky that made him, for being the one who got to dance with you but never taking the opportunity beside the required first dance to do so.

For not being as sickeningly and hopelessly in love with you as anyone in their right mind should be, as he unfortunately was, ceaselessly jealous of his own friend when Barty had left his side to steal you away for the next dance.

Spinning you faster and faster, over and over again until you were breathless and flushed with laughter, head tilted back and shining brighter than all the stars in the night sky.

Instead he had settled for simply observing, stare cold and furious and deeply offended on your behalf, at how your boyfriend barely paid you the attention you deserved, how you maybe didn’t notice because your friends, whether intentional or not, were quick to make up for the thankless idiot’s failures.

He had found himself unable to look away when the other boy’s eyes shifted and brightened for someone who wasn’t you, ringed fingers tightening harshly around the glass in his hand when your boyfriend leaned and whispered into your ear, nodding towards the girl who was supposed to be a friend.

You’d smiled like you were warmed by the fact he’d wanted to step in and ensure she had a good time, completely trusting as you’d affectionately waved them off in the direction of the dancefloor before turning back to your conversation.

It felt like watching a train wreck.

That slow motion kind of disaster where waiting for the inevitable was almost as horrific as being stood in the middle of the smoking carnage at the end of it.

The next moments had come in flashes, barely there touches and lighthearted gazes that were respectful until they weren’t. A song change, something slow and sweet that drew them closer, tearing apart the pretence as if it had been crudely sewn with nothing more than flimsy honour and weak fealty.

The hands grew bolder as did the stares and then they were forehead to forehead, smiles pulling at their lips like their lack of loyalty and faithfulness wasn’t a disgrace.

Like they weren’t about to break something infinitely more precious than all the riches in gringotts with their betrayal.

He’d never felt dread like it when he watched you turn, your expression shaded with confusion before shock swept it away like a blank state, mouth dropping into a stunned little ‘o’ as understanding crept in and the hurt began to bloom.

The music sounded like the tinkling swell of a fairytale but this was a nightmare. A horror that didn’t seem to be planning on ending there as bodies sped past, couples twirling in blurs that briefly shielded but couldn’t ultimately hide the moment your boyfriend dipped his chin to meet the girl’s mouth with his own.

Rage flooded him, a foul, deep-seething hatred. Fuelled by the pain that twisted at his heart when you staggered back as if the ground had been swept from beneath you and suddenly he didn’t care quite so much about being the perfect son for his parents to parade around. Used to prove how much better his family was than the others there.

He didn’t even care that you hated him and that he’d spent far too long allowing you to believe he hated you too.

He just wanted to reach for you.

And when you strode out of the room, dress swishing violently around your legs and your head downturned to hide the tremble of your lips, the hot sting of tears that spilled over your lash line, Regulus Black didn’t hesitate before following.

****

The courtyard was cold and empty, shining wet in the light of the little glowing orbs floating around the grounds and smelling like the rain that was coming down in fat droplets when you burst out of the manor doors.

It made the soft colour of your dress grow dark in small, random splotches, hem dragging heavy and sodden over the ground as you struggled to march across the gravel in the direction of a large, almost obnoxiously pretty gazebo.

And when you finally stepped foot beneath the pale marble roof you were almost entirely soaked.

There was the soft pat,pat,pat of your hair dripping rainwater onto the floor as you stood there breathing harshly, the uncomfortable feeling of your gloves sticking to your skin. Cold and clinging.

But none of it mattered as much compared to how glad you felt that no one was around to witness the emotional spiral you were unable to talk yourself out of.

The grief and humiliation that felt like it had blended into a living, breathing entity. A savage beast that was trying with all its might to claw its way out of your heart, tearing through the meat of your lungs and shattering ribs as it ripped its way free.

And maybe you couldn’t kill it before it all became too much because you still hadn’t fully caught your breath yet, chest still heaving against that horrible cinching tightness as you paced.

Or maybe it was because the sight of the roses coiling around the columns of your newfound shelter reminded you of the ones currently encasing your neck and your wrist.

The ones he gifted you.

A matching necklace and bracelet that had felt wrong from the moment he had clasped them.

The wrong colour, the wrong flower, the wrong everything really.

All things your boyfriend should have known but you ultimately decided against mentioning to spare his feelings even when he cooed nonsense about “his favourite flower deserving to be adorned in her favourite flower” much to the approval of your parents that morning.

Even they didn’t know you well enough to realise, it had seemed.

You wondered if he knew what her favourite flowers were - if they were roses - if he bought the set with her in mind and just took the gamble that you would be no different.

The thought made the gifts feel like a dead weight.

A mountainous pressure around your throat and wrist that began to crush you slowly and then all at once until the chaos spilling through your head became too much and your fingers scrambled and tore at the metal.

Your steps halted as you fought and tugged against the clasp and then with a furious shout, you ripped the necklace from your throat. Ignoring the bright spark of pain that streaked across your skin as you flung the glittering jewels as far as you could into the nearby hedges.

The bracelet followed much the same way, yanked violently from your wrist as if it burned and tossed away for the rain and earth to tarnish and bury.

But still you didn’t feel any better, instead your mind refused to stop and went to the other things that reminded you of them.

The gloves and the earrings that you had picked out when she had been with you, the pins in your hair that she had offered to borrow you that just happened to perfectly match his gifts. The shoes… for salazar’s sake, was there anything that wasn’t tainted by them?

The dress, you had thankfully bought alone.

Small mercies.

The pins in your hair forced you to be more careful, more gentle than your rage demanded. And through the steady motions your heart eventually slowed that little bit, your tears along with it, both allowing your lungs to expand a little further with each shuddering breath you could then focus on taking.

Tiny pin pricks of relief lessened the panic that had you in chokehold as more and more shining roses clattered to the ground until your hair was completely free of them, your earrings soon following and disappearing out of sight as they bounced off the marble floor in opposing directions.

When you finally slipped off the gloves, grimacing slightly at the feel of wet material dragging along your skin before you dropped them away from you, you were still seething but too exhausted to keep up being truly murderous.

And too distracted with contemplating whether to just kick your shoes off and apparate home barefoot to hear the approach of someone that had been lingering nearby the entire time, their steps slow and careful like they were afraid to make too much noise lest you took off running once more.

“You know, I always thought that Lucius was the one with all the dramatic flair out of you three.” A familiar voice mused behind you, tone mild, as if they were discussing the changes in weather and not the fact it probably appeared like you were losing your damn mind. “But I can’t say I’ve ever seen him flee a party to undress in the rain when someone’s upset him.”

You took a deep breath and tried not to groan, tried not to curse out loud, because really how worse could your luck get that the last person you wanted to face right now was the one who had stumbled across you rapidly descending into madness.

Or maybe that was being too harsh.

He definitely wasn’t the last person, or even second to it, but the younger Black had been a thorn in your side for almost your entire life and you really couldn’t cope with him choosing now as an opportunity to needle you further.

You were already at a disadvantage after all, not only from the way he had managed to sneak up on you when you were vulnerable, but that when you turned around your breath stuck in your chest at the sight of him.

Because Regulus, as much as you were loath to admit it, was a heart-fumbling kind of pretty on a normal day but stood before you in that moment, lit only by the soft globes of light that lingered against the surrounding night, he was breathtaking.

All dark dress robes embroidered with swirling, golden vines and hair that fell in damp, messy curls around his face, soft strands stirring in the night air and illuminating those grey eyes that refused to leave yours for even a second.

You swallowed and the scowl that twisted at your expression was more of a blessed reflex than a genuine result of the ire that his presence ordinarily inspired.

“You almost sound disappointed.” You responded flatly, a low drawl that lacked its usual withering sting. “I could go back in there and get him for you if you’d like, I’m sure he’d be flattered to know that Narcissa isn’t the only Black interested in seeing what he looks like out of those boring suits he’s constantly wearing.”

He tsked, the noise lightly scolding as he leaned against a shining column. “And risk bringing the wrath of my darling cousin down on my head?” There was a typical air of cool arrogance to the boy as he trailed his fingers over coiling vines before flicking one of the light pink roses in disgust, but the way he softened his voice into a tease, all feigned betrayal and suffering, was new. “I had no idea you could be so cruel.”

Your lips twitched despite yourself, amused by this side of him regardless of your bad mood because he was smirking now, and that too was tinged softer, a mirthful tilt to it instead of the mocking edge you had grown so used to.

It was strange, endearing.

It was almost enough to make you forget the years you had spent finding ways to wipe any smirk he’d previously gave you off his face

Almost.

You rolled your eyes, incapable of resisting scoffing. “Narcissa is an angel, you just have a rather murderous effect on people.”

His smirk deepened at that, a quiet laugh crackling in the back of his throat like it was a sound he didn't make often and you could feel his eyes on you as you turned towards the manor, watching each quiet step that you took until you leaned against the pillar opposite his. Arms crossed protectively over your chest because it felt like the boy was trying his best to see right through you.

“Besides, if I was truly as cruel as you claim, there would be a Shakespearean tragedy currently taking place in the Malfoy’s ballroom,” you muttered with a half-hearted smile, attempting to sound light and failing terribly, “but unfortunately, as you can tell by the lack of screaming and the fact that I’m out here with you, there is not.”

There was a moment of silence, then two, nothing but the patter of rain and the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and you could have cursed yourself for being so open. For not being able to pretend you were incapable of being hurt just a little bit longer in front of someone that you were sure would delight in seeing you so weakened.

But then…

“Pity, it would have been well deserved.” Regulus spat viciously without thinking, tone dark and the pale highs of his cheeks tinting pink when you turned from the Manor to blink at him in surprise. He swallowed his venom back before it could rear again. A second of hesitation before admitting, softer than before. “I saw everything.”

Your stomach twisted. “Oh.”

The air grew thick with his confession, heavy and pressing in a way that made you feel suffocated, like you were trapped, pinned down and held hostage so he could observe every second of the reaction you had to his words down to the slightest twitch.

It brought that uncomfortable flush of panic back, the sickly drip of red-hot embarrassment sliding down your spine.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Regulus whispered, his gaze shifting away almost immediately after the words were out of his mouth, darting to anywhere but where you were as he fought with the nervousness of reaching out that metaphorical hand, the raw edge of vulnerability it inspired on both sides.

It made him oblivious to the way you were bristling.

The misinterpretation you had made of his intentions.

But then you were laughing. A dead, humourless sound that had his head snapping towards you, confusion marring his expression at the sudden coldness in your voice, your narrowed eyes that he found already glaring at him.

“So that’s why you're here, to get a closer look at my humiliation?”

He blanched. “No, of course n–”

“To gather some more intimate details to use the next time you’re failing to win one of our arguments?”

Regulus shook his head, hands almost reaching for you as he tried to say your name, soft and soothing, but you didn’t even seem to register it. Defences drawn too high, too quick, and accusations falling from your tongue faster than you could choke them back. Leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “Or maybe you just wanted to go in for the kill right here, easy prey and all that–”

Golden light hit you then, a small globe floating closer and illuminating the planes of your face that allowed him to catch sight of the way you looked, the hardened mask you had slipped on to protect yourself before someone else could hurt you. Lashing out on instinct before they even got the chance.

It was a tactic he knew all too well, and the familiarity made his heart twist.

His ribs constricting over the fact he knew just how badly you were suffering if you had resorted to needing to use it, that you felt you had to because you couldn't comprehend the situation ending any other way than you suffering more at his own hands.

“Is that what you really think?” Regulus interrupted bluntly, but it wasn’t angry, he wasn’t leaping at the chance to fight with you like you had expected either. Instead, he seemed resigned by the conclusions you had leapt to. Not surprised but pained by it all the same.

Or maybe you were just really fucking tired and seeing things, too exhausted to even know what to think anymore because tonight had already proven rather brutally that you couldn’t judge a person's character as well you thought you could.

You were cranky and uncomfortable in your too high heels and your rain-damp dress, uneasy with how the look on the boy’s face was enough to make you feel surprisingly awful. Like you had failed him somehow by assuming the worst.

You stared at each other from opposite sides of the gazebo, his expression resigned, yours wary, before you shrugged like it was obvious. “It’s not like either of us are in the habit of showing kindness or mercy, Black.”

“Maybe not, but I would never - not with this. I despise that you think that low of me.”

“Why?”

“Parce que je ne pourrais jamais te faire de mal, ni même vouloir te faire du mal, bien au contraire en fait.”

You gave him a strange look before glaring once again, more half-hearted than annoyed this time. “You cannot keep derailing our arguments by switching to French, it’s infuriating… and also cheating.”

Regulus ignored the complaint, huffing, but you swore you caught a glimpse of his lips faintly twitching upwards when he dipped his chin. “If you must know, I’m here because Cissa and Lucius were busy taking care of things in there and I thought that you could use someone, even if you didn’t want to talk and just needed somebody there, even if it was someone you hated.”

He swallowed hard and you couldn’t help but stare as his eyes rose to meet yours. “Even if it was just me.”

You let loose a shaky breath at that, chest warming before guilt began to seep its way in through the hollows between your ribs.

“I’m sorry.” You told him, voice hurting, before pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes in frustration because god, what was wrong with you? Attacking him for daring to try and offer some comfort despite all of your messy history, despite it going against his cold, reserved nature. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, of course I don’t think that.”

It hardly felt like enough of an apology to quell the shame you felt at your accusations but it eased the tension slightly. Enough that your walls began to tumble down, brick by crumbling brick, and defeat rose over them, mortifyingly accompanied by the burn of tears gathering in your eyes.

You withdrew before the boy could hopefully suspect, blinking rapidly once your back was turned, and the soft-click of your heels sounded deafening in the silence as you moved towards a small bench and allowed yourself to slump on to it.

“I feel like a joke,” you eventually confessed when you were sure your voice wouldn’t crack, “like there must have been people that knew the whole time and were watching me waiting for when the penny dropped so they could laugh at my ignorance, how blind I’ve been. How unbelievably fucking stupid to have fell for it all.”

“No.” He chastised and there was that sharpness in his voice again, that fire burning in his eyes as he strode over and knelt gracefully before you. “Don’t you dare blame yourself, don’t do them the kindness of relieving even a fraction of the guilt for a moment. They don’t deserve it.”

The hand that he gingerly placed on your knee was a little cold but gentle, his thumb skimming the arch of it in weightless, calming strokes, and you watched the boy with stuttering lungs and an ache in your heart as his stare dimmed. Slipping far away to a time years before.“I don’t think you’ve been blind, nobody expects betrayal from those who are supposed to be closest to us.”

You made a mournful sound of agreement to that, still a little sad for yourself, surprisingly more than a little upset for Regulus who you’d forgotten held the agony and jagged shards of a different kind of betrayal inside him.

But just as you were about to awkwardly lay your hand on his, to try and offer at least a fraction of the comfort he’d been trying to give you despite how difficult you made it, a new and terrible fear seeped into your mind.

“Did you ever suspect anything and feel like you couldn’t tell me because of our history?”

The boy glanced back up at you then, frowning as he searched your face, like he could find the cause of the sudden flare of fear in your voice there, before shaking his head. “I would have told you regardless, even if I thought you’d curse me for it, I would still have told you. So no, I didn’t suspect a thing.”

“You don’t have to lie if you did.” You whispered, still unconvinced. Still entirely too nervous that Regulus could turn on a whim and wound you further with more secrets. More lies.“I know you, Black, nothing escapes your notice, you watch everyone.”

“Maybe, but I think I'd rather let Bella's demonic owl claw my eyes out than choose to watch that idiot.” He scoffed, mildly indignant as he rose to sit beside you, and the loss of his hand on your knee as he did so made you feel colder than you were prepared for. “Especially when there are people far more interesting worth the time.”

“Oh– like who? Which poor soul has earned the delight of your relentless attention?” You joked distractedly, still staring at the place where you felt bare without his touch, confused by the soft buzz beneath your skin that was imploring you to reach across and take his hand and put it back.

“You.”

Your eyes widened, lips parting in shock, as your head snapped up to look at him and though for a moment Regulus looked discomforted, a little stunned himself as if he hadn't meant to let such an admission slip, he didn’t look away either.

Instead the silence stretched into a handful of seconds, a miniscule eternity, with both of you trapped in this new territory of raw, startling honesty by each other's stare as the rain pelted the roof of your marbled sanctuary.

And maybe it was catching.

Maybe it had struck a place you thought was suppressed too deep to be reached like a loosed arrow, because suddenly you found yourself with the insane urge to tell him, it isn't just you, I’ve caught myself watching you as well.

But then Regulus cleared his throat and schooled his expression back into a careful nonchalance, shrugging. "How else would I make sure my favourite rival hasn't finally figured out a way to best me again?"

“Ah, of course, merlin forbid I ever score one extra mark than you again in a few classes.” You attempted to laugh lightly but the sound came out strange, a little strained, a little more bitter than you could make sense of.

Salazar fucking help you, this was madness.

You really needed to go home.

To leave and let yourself process everything that had happened like a sane person instead of whatever this was that you were doing or, even better, to sleep for a week so you could ignore the inevitable questions that would come with morning.

Your parents and their suffocating disappointment that would be heaped upon your shoulders, like you being publicly cheated on was somehow a cause of shame for them.

Maybe you could just obliviate yourself to avoid it all entirely.

There was still the faint sting of betrayal prickling behind your ribs but it had softened considerably, cushioned surprisingly by the presence of the boy sitting beside you.

And you found that if there was a choice between this messy and awkward attempt at comfort, at peace between you however temporary, or the cold loneliness of your room where your thoughts could easily eat you alive once you were trapped with them, then you didn't want to leave him just yet.

Especially not when you felt like you were discovering so much about the youngest black who notoriously kept everything close to his chest, not when you found yourself liking this side of him that he was allowing you to see.

Not even when a cold wind swept around the gazebo and in the spaces between you, whipping up frigid droplets of rain that latched onto your skin and felt like they were biting down into your bones.

You startled whilst Regulus cursed, a shocked laugh bubbling up from your throat when you caught sight of him wiping the wetness away from his face with a look of terrible, personal offence.

It made those grey eyes snap to yours, staring a little oddly, almost far too intensely, but you didn't get the feeling that he was angry at you laughing at him as you would have expected.

It was more like he'd been surprised by the sound of it, like your laugh was something he'd never heard before and he needed that moment or two to understand what he was hearing.

Not that that was actually the case, but Regulus would likely hex himself before he ever told you otherwise.

He would never tell you that he knew full well what your laughter sounded like, that the faint wisps of it he had only ever caught from afar were wrapped in coils around his ribs and haunted his heart. That he knew it well but only at a distance, and never when he was the cause of it.

Not until now at least, where the sound of it had caused something so violently fond to bloom in his chest that it had rendered breathless. Stunned.

He would never tell you that perhaps, from that moment, with rain water still clinging to his cheek and your joy echoing in his ears, he had finally known what his favourite sound in the world was and that nothing else could ever possibly compare.

And maybe he was still just that little bit bewildered when the first shiver overtook you. It had only been a small thing after all, barely strong enough to make your hands quake and sweeping only the faintest of goosebumps up your arms.

Easily missed.

But then the second came on with a vengeance and your trembling snapped him straight out of the trance he had been caught up in, snagging his attention only seconds after it had the chance to begin and making his brows pinch in the middle with concern.

A soft noise of disapproval escaping his parted lips before he began swiftly, and elegantly, shrugging the jacket of his dress robes off.

“You're freezing,” Regulus muttered, the sound of it only vaguely exasperated like he was biting his tongue to stop himself from questioning just how you had beaten him at all last year but didn’t have the brains to wear a coat before barging out into the rain. “take this.”

You couldn't even argue with him.

You weren't allowed the chance before the boy was reaching for you and slipping it far more gently than you expected around your shoulders, wrapping it over the unsteady rise of your chest when your breath caught at his closeness, and then you were too busy being engulfed in the smell of him to summon much of a protest.

Too distracted as you breathed him in.

It was a light and clean scent, a little woodsy. The layer beneath it all something that you couldn't quite give a specific name to, but you would know it anywhere, knew without really understanding how you did, that it belonged only to Regulus.

Not that that meant anything.

It didn't.

Did it?

No, absolutely not.

But his hands were still clasping the jacket when he realised you were frozen in an entirely different sense, staring at him silently like you were trying to figure a puzzle out and had no clue where to begin.

As if he could sense it, his eyes flicked up to yours just as he began to let go and then suddenly he…couldn't.

Or rather, it felt impossible to because there was a dangerous effect to what he had just done that he hadn't considered when your shivering had brought something protective out of him.

Getting so close to you, wrapping you up in his jacket that made you look too comfy the second it enveloped you, too perfect despite how strange it looked with your dress.

Too much like you were his.

It had his heart misbehaving wildly behind his ribs, his throat bobbing as he prayed to anyone that would listen that you couldn't hear the erratic pounding of it that felt deafening to his own ears.

You couldn't.

You were too caught up in your own, too caught up on the fact that Regulus had discovered you blatantly staring at him and was now staring right back at you like he was waiting for you to say something, do something. Anything at all.

It should have felt embarrassing.

It should have felt wrong to be letting yourself act like this. To be entertaining whatever delusion this was, because merlin, you had already been hurt once tonight and allowing yourself to be thoughtless and soft, unguarded, around Regulus Black of all people felt a lot like you were begging to be hurt again.

But his face was only inches from yours. His hair a little wild from the wind, the rain that stubbornly clung to it, and when a drop fell from one of the dark curls above his brow onto the arc of his cheek, looking far too much like a tear for your liking, you had been unable to help yourself.

A little enraptured by the sight of your own fingers rising to gently wipe it away, the feel of his soft, warm skin beneath your touch and the sight of Regulus’ grey eyes widening before they helplessly fluttered shut.

For a second neither of you moved.

You let your hand linger, let your fingers twitch so they brushed against him once more in the barest ghost of a touch whilst Regulus swallowed. Fighting against clasping your hand in his own and holding it there, pressing it deeper into his skin until the feel of it had no choice but to linger long after you left him.

His name was a soft weight on your tongue begging to fall, an airy sigh that was maybe more of a question than a statement. The kind where you weren't quite sure what you were asking but you were helpless to stop yourself from asking it anyway, and even the rain seemed to have fallen quiet like it wanted you to say it.

The world around you going hush like it was giving you a chance to see something important.

But then, the thunder came.

A loud, rolling grumble that slammed down on that pull you felt and made you flinch and pull back as Regulus’ eyes snapped open. That coaxed the rain to fall harder, closer to a downpour than a mere spring shower, and the sound of it felt an awful lot like sanity crashing its way back in.

It forced you to look away towards the manor just so you wouldn't have to look at him. Glaring through the rain at the looming structure like it was at fault that your head was in chaos, like it had everything to do with your cheeks being far too warm and the confusion simmering in your chest.

The panic you felt that the boy beside you might see something you weren't ready for him too, something you weren’t ready to realise had possibly taken root within yourself despite years of surety that you felt the opposite.

“We should go in.” You grumbled, forcing your voice to sound normal in a way that you didn't feel, but goddammit you were determined to get through the night without embarrassing yourself further. “Before Cissa sends Lu to look for us, he'll be furious if we make him get his hair wet.”

There was a pause after you spoke and you could feel Regulus looking at you, waiting for you to say something else.

It felt like he was gauging whether or not you were going to acknowledge what had just happened or maybe he was thinking of doing it himself , but either way, in the end he seemed to quietly decide to offer you the grace to hide by ignoring it just like you were.

Allowing a soft snort escape him instead, followed by a light mutter that made your lips quirk despite yourself.

“And what a tragedy that would be.”

Relieved, you merely shook your head in response, warning. “You're joking now but the last time I messed with Lucius’ hair, he turned mine green for a month.”

Regulus made a rather inelegant noise at that, a choked sounding thing that told you he was struggling not to laugh.

“That was the reason for your so-called rebellious phase in fifth year? Well it could have been worse, I suppose.” He snickered, hands raising in a mock defensive gesture when you whipped your head in his direction to shoot him a withering look. “If it makes you feel any better, when we were children, Cissa once got so mad that she hexed me and made me completely orange.”

You were unable to help the bright shock of laughter that burst from the back of your throat before you could smother it behind your hand at the thought of a surly, bright orange Regulus. “What the hell did you do?”

He had the audacity to look, for a moment, a little scandalised. That familiar haughty look gracing his sharp features as he huffed but his gaze glinted ever so slightly, mirthful. “I never said I had anything to do with it, did it ever occur to you that maybe I was simply caught in the crossfire?”

You just grinned and rolled your eyes, because whilst the entire world seemed to believe the youngest black was above or incapable of causing trouble, you knew better. “Not in the slightest.” You admitted breezily.

“Rude.” Regulus chastised, frowning, or at the very least attempting to because the moment you rose a challenging brow at him in response, his mouth tilted up at one corner. “Fine, honestly, I don't even remember. I just know it took my mother going to my aunt to get Cissa to remove it because everything she tried to undo it wouldn't work.”

You tutted. “See, I told you, you just have a maddening effect on people.”

“Actually,” he laughed softly, still quiet but more easily than he had before, and the sound of it was enough to make something golden rush through because Regulus Black, of all people, apparently had the most beautiful laugh you had ever heard. “I believe the term you used was murderous, or is this just your way of saying you're warming up to me.”

“Don't get too ahead of yourself.” You deadpanned. “It differs from moment to moment.”

“I'd be disappointed if it didn't.” He told you, eyes gleaming. “I rather enjoy that savage little look of yours when I get beneath your skin, I'd hate for it to be gone entirely.”

You were a little flustered, both at his words and the way he was looking at you, the lingering effect of his laugh still buzzing beneath your skin.

You wanted to say something snarky, to ruffle him as he had so easily done to you, but then the wind was blowing strands your hair across your face that you had to impatiently push away, and suddenly your hand was being caught in the hold of Regulus' careful fingers.

The contact made you startle, made you glance at him with wide, stunned eyes but the boy wasn't even looking at you as you did so, at least not at your face anyway.

His attention had instead been captured on the scuffed skin of your wrist. A patch that was torn and sore looking, beaded with dry blood where metal flowers had caught and snagged like thorns.

Concerned eyes rose briefly to yours before they deliberately dropped straight back to the wound and though he didn’t say anything, you could tell that he wanted to.

Instead, Regulus settled for a lightly admonishing click of his tongue as his hand slipped down yours until he could hover his thumb over the rough skin.

You tried to keep your expression neutral despite the way your heart had become a thunderous thing as he ghosted over it once and then again, just shy of true contact, the imitation of a caress that made you more breathless than you cared to admit.

But when he lowered it close enough that there was barely a hairs-width of space between your skin and his, close enough that you expected the pain of him pressing against it, you couldn't help the soft, surprised sound that bubbled out of your throat at the soft rush of magic you felt instead.

It was a cool thing.

Not cold enough to chill but soothing, like the first relieving, gentle sweep of a breeze on a too warm day, as light as whisper, and you watched enraptured at the pale glow that hummed between your skin and his.

The way it made your flesh knit and become smooth once more before your very eyes until all that was left was the tiny specks of dried blood clinging to your skin.

He finally touched you then, rubbing his thumb gently over your wrist until the red cracked and flaked away.

“Do I need to be concerned that there's anywhere else you're slowly bleeding to death from and refusing to tell me?”

You stared at him, dumbfounded, speechless. “Now who's being dramatic… but no, you'll have to find some other way to show off I'm afraid.” You murmured, only half serious when you recovered from the surprise and pinned him with an offended glare. “You never told me you could do wandless magic.”

“And deny myself the pleasure of seeing the expression on your face when you discovered it for yourself? Never.” Regulus smirked, looking far too proud of himself as he carefully placed your hand back in your lap before reaching for the cufflinks gleaming against the dark fabric of his shirt.

You huffed at that. Still somewhat bewildered though amused, and rather a little bit charmed, though you would never admit it. “What are you doing now?”

His gaze shone at you, eyes bright and knowing whilst nimble fingers slipped the cufflinks free until they clinked together in the palm of one pale hand. “Showing off.” Regulus drawled.

You didn't know how to reply to that in a way that wasn't teasing, that didn't have at least a tiny little bite to it with the intention of getting a rise out of the boy who had effortless control around everybody but you.

But you didn't want to fight, you didn't want a war of intelligence when an already exhausting night had led to something softer between you, something easier to breathe around, so you said nothing.

And besides, you were way more interested in what he had planned.

With curiosity sparkling in your veins like a champagne fizz, you watched as Regulus cupped his free hand over the other.

His gaze met yours, brows lightly furrowed and lips parted in concentration, when that same pale glow began to leak through the spaces of his clasped hands, steady, searching, as it flared brighter and brighter until it seemed as if the boy had raised a hand towards the night sky and scooped up a star to hold between his trembling fingers.

A small eternity seemed to pass whilst you were caught within that moment, the one where your breath hitched as his magic reached toward you again, strong enough this time to feel like you were connected to him through it.

And you had to wonder if he felt it too when Regulus offered you a smile that seemed so stripped down of its typical refinedness, so shy almost, that something in your chest ached with it.

It felt like it had been hours rather than seconds when that cool light finally dimmed, receding until the two of you were left with only the soft, twinkling orbs to illuminate you once more.

You missed it almost immediately, a chill taking its place that felt more than skin deep. You nearly embarrassed yourself by saying as much before Regulus slowly lifted his hand and what lay within his palm had you choking on air. Flustered and stunned.

Because where his cufflinks once were now lay a bracelet and a necklace, the chains thin, elegant and lovely. A small, exquisitely crafted flower hung at the centre of both, nestled between leaves that were delicate enough that they didn't crowd, that they only embellished the true beauty of the pieces.

It was a little ridiculous how they had made you gape at him, how your eyes misted at the sight of them and something tightened in your throat, your unsteady chest.

But how could you not when they were so perfect, what other way could you react to them being your favourite colour, your favourite flower, your favourite everything.

And here was Regulus Black, the person you thought had hated you for as long as you could remember, conjuring them for you because he knew.

You whispered his name and he swallowed hard, cheeks warming at the way you looked at him as if he had given you the stars, at the way he had lay a part of himself bare with the gesture and you had understood immediately.

That you knew now without a doubt that Regulus was not lying when he had told you he watched you.

He himself had given you the proof.

He waited for you to say something. For you to brush the whole thing off with a joke or a tease, that little voice in his head that told him this was a horrendous idea, whispering that he might have well shown you his throat for you to rip him apart, but it seemed for the first time in his life like he had disarmed you entirely.

It was perhaps, the softest he had ever seen you, the most human, no walls drawn high or a perfect facade worn like a veil over the real you.

You were wide eyed and cautious, every emotion visible on your face as your hand rose to reach for his own, stopping just shy of touching like you were afraid if you did the moment would crack and crumble. Nothing more than another cruel illusion.

It made him want to take your hand in his, to link his fingers between yours as the chains pressed into both your palms and assure you that this was real. Refusing to allow that insecurity to grow any further.

He didn't. He wasn't that brave enough just yet.

Instead, with a voice that sounded as nervous as you looked, cracking just that little bit whilst he lifted his hand towards you, he asked, “May I?”

The question made something bloom behind your ribs, a soft, wild thing that made your heart beat a little too unruly and your blood pulse with light.

You nodded, unable to trust the strength of your voice, and then you were turning for him. Shaky hands lifting your hair out of the way as Regulus moved closer, almost enough that you could feel the movement of his body as he breathed when he leaned into you, cool metal landing gently between your collarbones and his fingers upon the back of your neck.

You sucked in a sharp breath when the soft buzz you had felt before at his touch returned tenfold and he immediately mistook the sound for discomfort. “I'm sorry–” he whispered, feeling foolish as he winced. “I know my hands are cold–”

“No– no, they're fine, it's not that at all, I l–”

Merlin, no, stop.

You could feel heat searing your cheeks, creeping down the slope of your neck, and you prayed that Regulus couldn't feel it. That he hadn't caught on to the fact you had nearly slipped up and told him you liked how his hands felt on you.

There was silence after that as Regulus fastened the clasp, not an uncomfortable one but restless almost, charged.

It made the air crackle and fizz, made it feel all too warm despite the rain and thunder crashing around the gazebo as you turned before he could shuffle back. Bodies suddenly closer than either of you knew how to be normal about, faces even more so.

You couldn't look away even when his eyes dropped, dark lashes fluttering, skimming over pale skin when he blinked once, twice, a third time, as if he was willing away the intensity that had been burning within them.

He reached for your hand without another word, the bracelet that had been resting upon his leg now circling around the delicate expanse of your wrist and as he bowed his head to concentrate, a familiar song spilled out from the manor door.

It slipped across the grounds and swirled into the air around you, settling over your skin and sinking down deep into your chest. Making your heart clench, your eyes falling closed.

“I’ve always loved this song.” You murmured before you could help yourself, tone wistful. A little heavy with longing. “I used to plead with him to dance with me when it came on but he never did. Said it embarrassed him because it was too romantic and made him look soft. He was furious when I danced with Barty to it.”

“I remember that.”

Your eyes snapped open. “You do?”

Regulus nodded, though his stare remained on the bracelet's fastening, messy curls bobbing with the movement.“It’s the happiest I’ve ever seen you. Lucius had been spinning both you and Cissa around the dancefloor and when that song started, Barty immediately stepped in when he saw your boyfriend wouldn’t and Lucius spun you straight into him.”

You could see it all, exactly as Regulus described.

Another extravagant ballroom, another shimmering dress, your body being guided across the floor by one of your best friend's instead of your boyfriend. The only thing that you were missing was him.

The boy who had watched it all without you ever even realising.

And so you listened, entranced, your breath held among the branches in your lungs without meaning to as he continued. As he secured the bracelet around your wrist but couldn't quite convince himself to let go of your hand.

“I think the smile you gave him when he caught you made him fall in love just a little.” He teased, chin tilting up so he could look at you, the edges of his pretty mouth curling into an unbidden smile like he couldn't help himself. “But it was nothing compared to your laugh, the way it filled the room with something warm and real and made everything brighter.”

Salazar help you, you were pretty sure your heart was about to combust.

Regulus paused and frowned then, grey eyes growing stormy for just a moment. “And then that bastard ruined it by pouting the rest of the night, Barty wanted to kill him for it.”

There was something about the way he said it, how his tone dipped low, dark, ice creeping in beneath his words, that made you wonder if Barty hadn't been the only one with murderous intent towards your boyfriend that night. The only one who had felt soft on you in the moments before it had all been tarnished.

It made something pure rush through your veins at the thought. Made you feel suddenly bolder, braver than you had been earlier.

“So you really weren't bluffing about watching me, were you? You've remembered my favourite flowers, my favourite song, and that I can’t get my own boyfriend to dance with me.” You began, voice calm, quiet, as you drew soft lines along his fingers with your own.

The touch had Regulus’ eyes falling to your joint hands.

Surprise briefly etching itself over his features like he hadn't even realised he had never let go, and when his gaze darted back up to yours he waited quietly for what came next, breath hitching his chest, as he watched you like you were dangerous.

You licked your lips, a readying gesture that the boy's stare helplessly followed, his fingers tightening around yours before you took the plunge. “Care to let me in on how all of this is supposed to aid you against me? It doesn't really seem like the ‘destroy your rival’ kind of information.”

He hummed, nonchalant about it despite the way his cheeks had turned a rather endearing shade of pink. “Maybe that's the point, information that appears innocent can sometimes be the most effective in helping achieve what you want.”

“And what do you want, Regulus?”

He was quiet for a handful of seconds at that, thoughtful.

His eyes flickering between yours, over every inch of your face, and then slowly he pulled back and stood. Ensuring that your hand never once left his as he placed himself in front of you and bowed like the proper gentlemen he had been raised to be.

“Dance with me.” He murmured.

Oh.

You couldn't deny that you were caught off guard by the question, by the strange turn of events and the way the boy was looking down at you. At the crooked little smirk he suddenly bore that was a touch playful and all challenge, his stare twinkling with it.

But even more so, you were captivated.

It made you huff out a disbelieving laugh and then you were narrowing your eyes, feigning suspicion as you pretended to look him up and down. “I don’t know, this feels like a trap.”

“Does it?” Regulus mused, the quirk of his lips morphing into a slow smile. “Don’t tell me you're intimidated by me now.”

You snorted. “Shaking in my heels, I may even faint.”

The words came out sarcastic but hardly biting, full of a more friendly kind of taunt, and when he scoffed and grinned down at you, you were already beaming back. Eyes bright and lovely, soft with new, unfurling affection.

It was the kind of smile that made his heart race. The kind that told him if he held your hand that little bit tighter and gave a small, gentle tug, you would follow the pull until you were on your feet and in his arms.

So he did.

And then he was holding you.

Regulus was gentle with it as his hand placed your own upon his shoulder, the other curving slowly over your waist, a brief moment of indulgence before it slid upwards to rest perfectly against the centre of your back.

He pulled you in further once he was satisfied with your positions, far closer than the dance required or was deemed proper, but he was past caring about rules at that moment and what everyone else expected of him. Concerned only with how your proximity made his head spin and the way you were smiling at him like you knew.

“See, not so terrifying after all.” Regulus teased.

And before you could retort, he was leading you in small, elegant steps. Amusement flaring in his eyes and a slightly self-satisfied twitch to his lips when you startled and clung to him tighter before your muscle memory kicked in.

You shot him a half-hearted glare in response, nose scrunching to hide the way there was laughter bubbling up in your throat, threatening to break free. Airy and delighted.

It continued like that for barely a minute until your steps became more elaborate, until the gazebo felt too small for the way Regulus wanted to sweep you off your feet. To move freely with you, completely unhindered, and spin you over and over until you came beautifully alive in his arms.

He barely gave you any warning before he did it, just a brief glance of those pretty, grey eyes to the storm raging outside and then he was dragging you into the thick of it.

Your shocked laughter only slightly muffled by the downpour of rain as he held you tight and twirled you both across slick stones that crunched beneath your feet and perfectly manicured lawns with their gorgeous rows of blooming flowers. The glimmering light of the enchanted orbs making you both shine.

It felt like a fairytale, a dream you didn't want to wake up from which was surprising given how it had all started.

But now all you cared about was that this beginning felt like the most magical thing in the world, that with Regulus’ laughter rumbling from his chest to your own and his chin dipped to watch you with a smile that rivalled the sun, you were infinitely happier than you had been in a long time.

And as the song reached its crescendo he lifted and spun you until you were both breathless, dipped you until your hair was brushing the damp ground and the most glorious sounds spilled from your lips. The pure joy that he had heard long ago and cherished in secret until now, where he got to bask in being the sole cause of it himself.

When it ended you felt dazed, euphoric. Your bodies were closer than before, arms wound around Regulus’ neck and his hands holding you tight, pressing flush to your back to mold you against him. Each heaving breath was taken with you chests moving together and your cheeks felt as hot from the exertion of it all as his looked.

You were drenched, hair plastered to your faces but the air between you held that familiar tension, something electric. Heavy with anticipation as he leaned closer, his nose nudging your own.

His voice was a low rasp when he murmured your name, a lovely, tortured sounding thing that made you shiver as he drew a hand up your back and along the curve of your neck until he could cup your jaw.

Your brain short-circuited at the touch, lips parting in response and your fingers curling desperately into the collar of his shirt like that alone would stop you from falling if Regulus threatened your ability to remain upright any further than he already was.

You had a sneaking suspicion that he planned on it.

That the way his eyes had gone dark beneath the full fan of his lashes, the way they flickered from your own down to your lips and lingered just a beat too long, meant that Regulus full-heartedly considering kissing you right then.

And maybe what was even worse for your sanity, was that you suspected that you wanted him to as well.

But then, as if waking from a daze or the heavy influence of a spell, Regulus shook his head. Something pained flashing across his features as he gently let you go and stepped back.

“Tu n'as aucune idée à quel point je veux t'embrasser.” He whispered hoarsely. Voice thick with guilt and restrained longing. “Mais je ne peux pas. Je ne veux pas vous brusquer ou profiter.”

You frowned. Not quite upset, because there was no malice in Regulus’ actions, but a little confused. More than a bit curious as you fought against the urge to reach for him again and opened your mouth to–

“As lovely I'm sure the conversation you're having is,” a drawling voice interrupted, calling out effortlessly above the noise of the storm, “if I have to come out there to retrieve either of you, I will personally see to it that your own storm clouds follow you around at every waking moment for the next month.”

The threat came, unsurprisingly, from none other than Lucius who stood beneath the wide doorway to the manor with Narcissa at his side. Both of their gazes regarding you far too closely and matching smirks tugging at the corners of their mouths like they had stumbled across something scandalous.

You rolled your eyes before you turned to them both, expression torn slightly but fond as you looked between them and him before starting to make your way over whilst Regulus followed quietly at your back. “Only the waking moments? You're losing your touch, Lu.”

“It's called leniency, darling.” Your best friend muttered, his stare sharp on the jacket that was hanging off your frame, the way Regulus didn't think as he held his hand out to help you over the pebbled walkway and you took it without hesitation. “I can afford to show a bit of mercy now I've expelled some anger elsewhere.”

The warmth of the manor enveloped you as you stepped inside, and Lucius let out a sound at the sight of you now you were in full light that was half mothering concern, half admonishing, before sauntering over to stand in front of you.

He withdrew his wand, murmuring a spell to dry you off whilst Narcissa did the same for her cousin. Smooth fingers caught at your chin before he turned your head this way and that, inspecting for injuries or signs of distress, both old and new, the possibility of fresh tears caused by the boy who had been known to be cruel to you before.

“You're okay?” He asked, voice stern, cool but not uncaring, and there was a flicker of relief in his eyes when you nodded honestly. “Good, we've had enough tragic medical emergencies for one night and I don't think Cissa would be happy with me if I cursed a member of her family.”

You laughed faintly, astounded by how the night had turned out, but affection flooding warm in your chest for your friends regardless. “My insincere condolences for those harmed, and yeah, I'd be careful with our lovely Narcissa, I've heard she's fond of turning people orange and that it's almost irreversible.”

From the corner of your eyes you saw the way Lucius' brows raised at your comment, the way his gaze snapped questioningly to his girlfriend, who scoffed and muttered a betrayed sounding ‘tell-tale’ at the dark-haired boy beside her.

Your attention for the most part, however, was upon Regulus and though his head was downcast, you could tell that he was smiling. Lips twisting and teeth biting into his cheek to hide his amusement at the joke you had made for him.

And when your two friends had finished their fussing, Narcissa touching up your makeup and hair with an expert flick of her wand, a warm, affectionate kiss laid upon your cheek for extra support as Lucius teasingly advised you both that wearing your own clothes upon reentering the ballroom was probably best unless you wanted to invite whispers, they shared a look between them.

A small, glancing, thing that held a conversation you weren't privy to but you were a hundred percent sure was about you, given the way their eyes flickered briefly over both you and Regulus before they decided to walk ahead instead of beside you.

There was comfort between you and your old rival as you approached the room, a newfound ease to being around each other that made walking back into a potential hell, depending on just how discreet Lucius and Cissa had been in their revenge, that much more bearable.

But there was also that undercurrent of tension still crackling beneath it all, the weight of everything that had transpired between you. A dissolving rivalry and conjured jewellery, a dance that had meant everything and an almost kiss that had left you shaken and breathless with how badly you had wanted it.

Your fingers brushed his when you heeded Lucius’ words and handed the jacket back to him, lingering for a moment too long to be anything but deliberate, and it looked like it physically pained Regulus to pull away.

To slip back on a jacket that now smelled like you and not grasp your hand in his after he'd become enamoured with how right it had felt holding it.

“You cheated again by the way.” You whispered after a moment, eyes still ahead, and just loud enough for him alone to hear when the silence finally grew too much, when you realised belatedly that you missed the sound of his voice.

He glanced at you inquisitively then, brow raising and a teasing, faux exasperation hidden in the way he asked. “How so?”

“When we almost k– before we were interrupted.” You huffed, refusing to look at him because you could feel from the heat of his stare that even a near mention of your almost kiss had Regulus’ eyes dropping distractedly to your mouth. “You spoke French again, it's an unfair advantage.”

He laughed at that, low in his throat as he shook his head. Slowing his pace just that little bit as you drew nearer to the ballroom doors, eager to draw this out just a few moments more. “Just because you find me charming doesn't necessarily mean I'm cheating, ma chérie.” He murmured, leaning into you until his shoulder nudged yours, a touch smug.

It may not have been, he was right, but it was hardly fair the way it made your heart play up, the way something in your stomach flipped when he got a little bit cocky with it but salazar help you, two could play at that game if the boy suddenly wanted to tease.

“It does when you use it to tell me about how you don't want to take advantage, don't you think?” You asked innocently, biting your lip as you fought not to laugh at the way Regulus whipped his head around to stare at you. Disbelief blatant as you sighed, “I mean, you have to know that the whole French thing is pretty hard to resist, so that was just mean.”

He was speechless, lips parted and eyes wide, like you'd completely titled his world from its axis, like he was seeing you in an entirely new light. Bewildered when you came to a stop outside the large, ornate doors and finally looked at him, your grin glowing as you leaned in close just like he had and whispered.

“If you don't want someone to understand you, maybe choose a person who doesn't have at least one best friend that isn't related to you that also has French lineage.”

Regulus let out a quiet curse at that, glaring briefly at the back of the blonde boy's head who stood in front of him. He barely had the chance to offer a smart retort by the time the doors were swinging open, music spilling out and the sound of chatter, the flurry of dancers twirling across the floor, becoming overwhelming.

Lucius and Narcissa entered first, sweeping in like they had never left, like nothing had changed, and then you were next. Your eyes on his and a playful smile curving at your mouth as you backed into the room, almost daring him to follow after you despite what everyone would say.

He wanted to.

He wanted to march after you and gather you up in his arms again, he wanted to kiss you senseless until you melted against him, all slow heat and unguarded adoration that made you forget you had ever received anything less and actually believed yourself deserving of it.

But he couldn't.

Not now.

Especially not when you saw his hesitation and drifted back to him, close enough that only he could hear you but not enough to draw the attention of those with hungry stares that loved to cause problems for others.

You kept your voice soft, your touch even softer as your fingers lightly grazed his own in a sweet gesture that made any tension he held immediately melt.

And he prayed he didn't look as lovesick as he felt when you told him, “I would have kissed you without feeling any pressure by the way, but thank you, for caring enough not to rush me.”

He was happy to wait.

To be nothing more than a friend, a comfort at your side whilst the aftermath of tonight played itself out and you took the time to process what had happened.

To deal with the fallout that came with two high society families feuding because one of the families’ sons had committed a humiliating slight that would absolutely need to be dealt with.

Whilst you grieved properly and healed the way you needed to, without hurry or expectation, for as long as it took.

An eternity if need be.

And then, if you still wanted him to, Regulus would kiss you.

He'd kiss you until you knew without a shadow of a doubt how deeply you were loved by the boy who knew your heart and cherished it as it was.