#compete

@jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic word count: 697

“Jane Fonda?” 

“No idea.” “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Even though he wasn’t facing him Regulus could practically feel James’s eyes roll as they walked down the dungeon corridor.

“She’s another actress. American, but she’s pretty fit, and an activist. Thought you might know her from that.” Regulus smiled privately at the consideration James put into his choices. It was a new game they had made up after being paired together for prefect rounds last month, and it had stuck around when they’d been paired together again at the start of this month. James names someone famous that he knows, (sometimes muggle sometimes magical, but almost always pop culture reference) and Regulus names one he’s heard of (never muggle, but often obscure academics). They compete to see who can recognize more celebrities, and the loser at the end of the night has to write the summary report. 

“Bertha Waggbarn.” Regulus said confidently as they turned a stone corner.

“That’s not a real person.”

“She is, and she just got me to ten points.” 

“What did she do, then?”

“She invented the cure of moltrox disease.” There was the eyeroll again.

“Wow, it’s a wonder I didn’t know her, considering she’s had such a great impact on my life.”

“You never know,” Regulus shrugged, “If it wasn’t for Bertha you might not exist. Butterfly effect.” Regulus stopped then, suspiciously eyeing an ajar broom cupboard door.

“Butterfly effect?” James asked behind him.

“Yeah,” Regulus said distractedly, pulling on the door handle and finding he couldn’t pull it open. It was stuck, not locked, maybe three quarters open. “Let’s try and get this open, we might need to report it.” As he spoke, pink smoke started drifting out of the top crack of the ajar door. Definitely something they were supposed to report.

“What’s that?” James asked, coming closer to pull on the door as well, it still not budging. 

“What’s the butterfly effect?”

“Yeah,” James pulled out his wand and cast an unsticking charm, but the door still was stuck.

“It’s when one thing happens that seems little, but it ends up having big impacts or consequences.” Regulus huffed, pulling on the door again, harder.

“What does that have to do with a butterfly?” James asked, wedging his fingers into the gap and pushing.

“It’s an example. A butterfly flaps its wings on one side of the world, and on the other an earthquake happens.”

“That’s so stupid, a butterfly wouldn’t have anything to do with- uh!” James pushed too hard with his shoulder, slipping and barreling straight into Regulus who he knocked flat on his back. 

Regulus groaned, mostly in frustration and not pain although he did smack his head on the floor when they went down, and James shot him a panicked look from on top of him.

“I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” He scrambled to sit up, leaning his weight onto his knees instead of Regulus’ hips, and his hands came up to touch where he had hit his head. His face was suddenly very close to Regulus’, eyes wide with concern, and Regulus tried to pretend he wasn’t turning pink.

“I’m fine- get up, Potter.” He grumbled and James, a bit embarrassed, got to his feet and held out a hand to help Regulus up. After righting himself and his robes, Regulus glared at the still stuck cupboard door.

“Come on,” James said, “Let’s just report it as it is. We tried to investigate, there’s obviously no students in there so let’s just let the professors deal with it.”

“Fine,” Regulus grumbled, and they continued on their route.

“So… John Lenon?” James asked, and Regulus stopped to give him a disbelieving look.

“I know who The Beatles are, James!” He said indignantly.

A friend from my FC commissioned me for some Discord emotes. I even got to do a little animation, wowie! The bottom two are for a friend I've known for a while.

♠️_Le regine non competono!

Ricordatelo..🖤🌹

I wasn’t born to become an adult in such an irrevocable way and to earn my living in jobs where there has always been a hint of competition and cruelty. I was a peaceful child who was able to earn excellent grades only because I had an excellent memory and a docile character, and was inclined to hide my subtle rebelliousness. I wasn’t suited for the brutal competition in men’s sports and even less for the competitiveness of everyday life, for those responsibilities that crush your chest in the dark and keep you awake, or make you open your eyes in despair minutes before the alarm clock goes off. I was no good at fighting in the schoolyard, nor was I any good at fighting at a boardroom table later on. The only aspect of non–child life that ever really interested me was falling in love. I was useless at anything I felt forced to do or that I resigned myself to do with varying degrees of conviction or disbelief. That natural goodness inside me wasn’t always enough to prevent me from degrading behavior.