#(regulus 1)

who: @spareheir​ where: apothecary | diagon alley. when: july 3rd, 1979.

Felix Felicis; commonly known as Liquid Luck. It was a curious potion - exceedingly tricky to make and disastrous if brewed wrong; however, proved incredibly useful for succeeding in one’s endeavors if brewed properly. And Merlin knew, The Order desperately needed luck on their side. No matter the method. Thus, Severus Snape took to gathering all the ingredients swiftly after their sudden appearance in this new reality. 

Now, the Slytherin gazed over the small, copper cauldron, bubbling away. With a grin, he watched as the molten, golden liquid glistened against the wooden stirring paddle. Large droplets leapt like goldfish from its surface; yet, never spilled. It had taken Severus a rigorous six months to brew the precarious little potion correctly. Even the most skilled potioneers, if any, rarely completed the task in that amount of time or as well. At least now, the Order would have a fair few doses for when they were in dire need.

Extinguishing the flickering flames beneath, Severus paused. A soft chime echoed throughout the small shop of the apothecary, signaling someone had stepped inside. At this early hour, Snape wondered who it could be, looking up curiously before making his way to the entrance.

It had been two weeks now, that Rosalind had spent in Paris. And although she wouldn’t admit it, it wasn’t everything she’d thought it would be. She was almost glad that her mother called her back to England for an event that weekend. That’s what had her walking through the streets of Banchory, looking at all the magical boutiques that not many could afford, when she spotted a familiar face. “Regulus.”

Mio settled in on the bleachers next to Regulus Black, glad to have house solidarity as a bit of an excuse to sit with him. There were students and teachers everywhere and some folks whom she was certain did not attend Hogwarts but had stopped by for the event, and despite the large crowd, she could not find a single familiar face until she landed on her housemate. Life at Hogwarts was about as lonely as it was exciting without any real close friends. She sighed in the heat of late May, wondering if he’d say anything to her.

Hufflepuff versus Slytherin. They were only 50 points behind in the House Cup, and part of her was anxious for them to win, but it also wasn’t as if she really knew anyone on the team. Emma Vanity seemed effortlessly cool and without much time for Mio last she had approached the girl. Olin Burke was rather scary and Mio avoided him when she could. Everyone else was somewhere in between, and it made her feel so far away from everything. Feeling silly, she tied her hair back in a ponytail with a green scrunchie she’d brought for house spirit. 

All around them, students were buzzing with excitement, waiting for the game to start, but it only made her feel awkward for her own silence. She bit her lip and turned to Regulus. “Big quidditch fan?”

Location: Stables, McKinnon Farm Time: 23rd of February Status: Closed, for: @alphaleoniis​

Bran wasn’t well acquainted with the Black family, let alone the two sons. By the time they had begun joining proper pureblood events and participating in the society they were born into, Bran was already in her rebellious phase, throwing fists at guys three times taller than her, knocking bludgers at Slytherins, and kissing girls in bathroom stalls. But she had heard the gossip of course.

Sirius Black -- in Gryffindor! Against all odds. Befriending Half-Bloods and Muggle-Borns (and as Bran had newly found out: a literal monster, too). Soon enough, the rumors about his status as a blood traitor reached the tea rooms of Bran’s mother, and the gasps had been loud despite the inevitableness of it all. Everyone had turned to look at the younger of the two, then, the one who had never caused such commotion: Regulus. A name, suited much better for a heir, was what everyone whispered, then. 

And the boy seemed to wear his name like a crown indeed, a head held proud, grades and demeanor rumored to be flawless. As this point, Bran was busy defying her mother, which resulted in her being sent to nursing school. She had no time to gossip along and hear about other pureblood families’ perfect heirs. She only cared about one heir, and that was her retched cousin Corban. By the time Regulus was out of school and could’ve run into her at pureblood events, Bran was already searching for a way into the Order.

Location: Potter Estate, porch Time: 22nd of February, twilight Status: Closed, for @alphaleoniis

“The cards, hm?” Edgar asked.

He’d been sitting on the front porch of the Potter Estate as he’d so often done before. But usually his smokes outside were brief, caught between departure and conversations inside. These days however he barely set foot inside anymore. The house was no longer safe, and his breath hurt like fire when he was robbed of the change to look out onto the driveway to make sure everything was still fine.

He didn’t know how much longer it still would be. The new boy, Regulus Black, and his message, brought both hope and and warning with it, and Edgar didn’t like it. Didn’t trust it. But he did, however, knew a way to come to believe it. So when Black the Younger stepped out from the house Edgar was already waiting, his expression mellow, friendly, almost passive.

But first, another drink.

Maybe if he’d been less concerned with being seen and more concerned with everyone else around him, Alaric wuld have realized who was hovering near the drinks table sooner than he did. Maybe he wouldn’t have come to a sharp halt right before colliding, could have turned the other way instead of being caught unaware, unable to pretend he hadn’t noticed the other. “Hello, Regulus,” He said, defaulting to polite, bland manners as always. “Can’t say I’ve seen you in a while. How’s Gil?” @arcturusxregulus