a/n: sorry for the wait. i also rewrote part of the prologue on january 23, so if you want to go back and check it out, feel free to do so.
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PAGE OF SWORDS
upright — curious, witty, chatty,
communicative, inspired, vigilant
reversed — scatterbrained, cynical,
sarcastic, insulting, rude
JANUARY 1974
AMARIS DOESN'T FAIL TO NOTICE the way Regulus Black kept his word. It's not much, but he eventually calls her a 'Mudblood' less often than he would've liked, and slowly but surely, they fall into a slightly new pattern of actually managing to hold up a decent conversation.
Most times, she's the one doing most of the talking but to his credit, the young wizard can be civil as much as he was a prat.
(Don't jump to conclusions.)
The young Slytherin won't change that easily. They were both aware of that fact.
In the first place, they're not even friends; far from it. They're acquaintances at best. Hell, just the thought of being acquainted with a Mudblood doesn't fail to cause a shiver to crawl up his spine because prejudices and traditions ingrained since birth can't be changed that easily.
It's for that reason that Regulus never even calls Amaris by her name. He never even dared to, because in the same way that the Wizarding World refused to utter the name of Voldemort, calling her such meant acknowledgment.
Eventually, acknowledgment would lead to a connection— an attachment.
It was bad enough that the girl easily caught his eye but an actual relationship with her, platonic or whatsoever, would be a death wish. He doesn't need that— doesn't want that.
After all, relationships lead to weakness.
The same weakness that manifested in the pain of being cast away by his brother. The same weakness in Sirius when he befriended that group of blood traitors and half-breeds. The same weakness that he recognizes in his cousin, Andromeda Black who seemed to have fallen for a Mudblood.
It was a weakness that would threaten his life in the face of both his family and the Dark Lord, but no matter what he thought or yearned for, Amaris Leclair never fails to surprise him.
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The two second-years stayed behind the tower after their first Astronomy lecture since their return from their winter holidays. Much to his chagrin, Regulus finds himself seated beside the maiden that night. The same distance is still between them, but that alongside his lack of response doesn't deter the Hufflepuff from talking his ear off.
It's progress on his part.
This time, he was actually listening and not actively tuning her out. It takes a hell of a lot out of him to keep pretending that she's not a Mudblood (it was way easier to tolerate her that way), but that wasn't even the worst part yet.
There's one thing that still bothers him—
"How are you not afraid of me?"
His voice is soft and poignant. She actually fails to hear it, having unwrapped a lemon drop rather loudly just as the words escaped his lips.
Amaris smiles both sheepishly and apologetically when she realizes she interrupted him. She pops the candy in her mouth before asking him to repeat his words, "Sorry, what was that?"
"Nevermind," Regulus grumbles.
"Oh, c'mon. I said I was sorry," the girl pleads persistently, "Repeat it just this once, please?"
The Hufflepuff faces him as if to prove that she was giving him his full attention. The way her bright sapphire eyes watched him closely rendered him silent for a second. He feels exposed under her gaze and it leads him to wonder if she was a Legilimens because the words somehow slip past his lips.
"How are you not afraid of me?" Regulus asks her again.
If he wasn't too bothered by the lack of change in the expression on her serene face, he could've sworn that she smiled a tad bit brighter as if she just saw right through him.
Amaris only returns the question, "Do you want me to be afraid of you?"
In truth, he doesn't know how to respond to that.
Does he?
For all he knew, it was the justifiable response for others to be intimidated by him. It was why admirers kept their distance despite his good looks and his standing, or why his peers often followed him around and crowned him with a king-like dominance.
Fear gave power.
Whether or not they knew him, they would never dare speak to him in the same way she does because Regulus Black was not only the favored child of the House of Black but his affinity and interest in dark magic were also no secret. He was one of the many other kids rumored to be aspiring Death Eaters. It's how the infamous Slytherin prince tramples over the others with ease.
The Muggle-born Hufflepuff happened to be the first one who does the complete opposite of what was expected; choosing to get closer to him rather than running away.
Thus, he truly honest-to-goodness doesn't know whether or not he should appreciate this anomaly in front of him.
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It turns out, he doesn't have to explain himself to her because not a beat later, Amaris speaks before he gets the chance to.
"I used to be afraid of you— I mean, you didn't really give off a welcoming aura…" she admits, smiling as she continued, "But after sitting with you here I realized one thing… The worst you've done is call me a Mudblood."
She gives him a cheeky grin to which he scowls, "How is that—"
"I know it's not much," Amaris cuts him off. "But your friends and most of the others go out of their way to threaten us, you know? Sometimes they'd shove us around, hex us, or even destroy our stuff."
She doesn't add how she noticed that his voice would lack the edge and spite often associated with the slur, feeling as if the boy would only take it as an insult.
Instead, the blue-eyed maiden claims, "You're not that similar to how the rumors make you out to be. You're kinder than you think you are."
"I'm not kind. It's naive of you to think such," Regulus jeered, wondering whether or not the girl was even aware of who Voldemort is, much less what his followers have even done.
He was an aspiring Death Eater, wasn't he? This girl would be fucking mental to even associate such a word with him because the only time his name and 'kind' can be placed in the same sentence was if there was a 'not' in between that.
Regulus fucking Black was not kind. He was anything but kind.
Hell, it might be the one thing that he and his brother would agree on.
But Amaris continues to be unconvinced.
"Oh, yeah, then why haven't you tried to harm me within the entire year we've spent in this tower?"
He knows she's friends with Pandora Lestrange, but how much the Ravenclaw spoke about their world to this little Mudblood makes him wonder if that's why Amaris finds it easy to defend them— defend him.
Though instead of blurting his thoughts out, he chooses a different route to maintain nonchalance, "Because you're not worth my wrath."
She snorts.
He glares.
"I'm only saying this based on my observations and assumptions, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong but…" Amaris trailed on. "This whole pure-blood prejudice thing is a learned trait."
"If you were raised to believe that something is wrong then it's natural to keep believing such," she argues. "Even Pandora thought the same of Muggle-borns back when I first met her… She was repulsed when she found out I was one— but look at us now, we're two peas in a pod."
"You're point being?" he glowers.
"I wouldn't mind showing you a thing or two to redeem your impression of us—"
"Over my dead body."
"—And then, you can make an informed decision," she beams at him, a small twinkle was present in her eyes as if she was confident she'd win him over. "If you still hate our guts then I'll give up and stop pestering you —I promise— but for now, try to keep an open mind, alright?"
He can't comprehend where she gets such confidence from. Unless—
"What's in it for you?"
"I don't know," Amaris shrugs, tilting her head in confusion as if she's never even thought of it, "Nothing?"
Regulus scoffs, "People don't just do something for nothing."
'What a Slytherin thing to say,' she thinks, biting back a laugh.
He expected her to ask him to tell his "friends" to lay off her fellow Muggle-borns (it would've been the archetypical noble cause) but to his surprise, she manages to deviate from his expectations once again.
"Hm, okay then," she responds after not much thought, "I want to be friends."
"What?" he looks at her, expression flashing from perplexed to seemingly repulsed by the thought. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want to associate myself with the likes of you, Mudblood."
"That's why I'm trying to fix your prejudice first, genius," Amaris half-huffs as she berates him, "And keep an open mind, remember?"
"If you're starting now, you're not getting any closer to making me like your guts," Regulus scowls.
Instead of taking offense from his words, a small grin escapes her lips, "Small steps, Regulus. Small steps."
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It takes another beat before she fishes for another piece of candy from her pocket, offering it to the boy beside her, "Sherbert lemon?"
"What is it?" he furrowed his eyebrows quizzically as if it was the first time he'd ever heard of such a candy in the Wizarding World. Not that his mother ever bothered to let them stuff their faces with confectionaries when he was a child.
"Lemon-flavored candy," Amaris answers matter-of-factly. "My sister sent them over. They remind me of home."
"What does it do?"
"What do you mean? It does nothing. You just eat it."
"That's how you're winning me over? Pathetic confectionaries that don't even have special qualities?" he scoffs as if he'd rather eat Cockroach Clusters over whatever weird Muggle dingus she presented.
"There's beauty in the mundane, you know," she cooed. "And I heard the headmaster likes them too."
Regulus still continued to be unimpressed as he spat, "Mudbloods and Mudwallowers are one and the same. Disgusting snacks for repulsive creatures. It suits you."
"They sell them over at Honeydukes too!" she defends herself, inching her hand closer as she held the candy out to him.
He only continues to look at the Muggle candy with disgust, head still high and nose scrunched up.
"Oh, don't look at me like that. I'm not trying to poison you," the maiden eventually gives up, taking her hand back. "A simple 'no' would have sufficed."
"Filthy Mudblood…" he mutters, insulting her as if to prove that he couldn't be bothered about her.
But to the boy's surprise, her face lights up as she declares proudly. "Aha! You reached your quota for today."
It's only then that he realizes that he indeed called her Mudblood more than once for the day, though instead of giving her a benefit, he merely challenged back. "So?"
"Punishment," Amaris swiftly pulls his hand and opens it up, stuffing the single piece of wrapped candy in his palm before he has the chance to complain. "It's an exercise to build immunity. Just hold onto it for a while. You don't have to eat it."
Despite her instructions, the arrogant expression donning his face doesn't falter.
'Oh boy, it's going to take an awfully long time to win him over,' the Hufflepuff thinks, but regardless, she doesn't miss the way Regulus hadn't thrown the lemon drop away despite his protests.
'It's still progress,' she commends, looking at the brighter side of things.
Little does she know, out of sheer curiosity, he'd eventually pop it in his mouth a little later that week.
It was just as sweet as her.
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FEBRUARY 1974
THEY DON'T ACKNOWLEDGE EACH OTHER outside the comfort of the Astronomy Tower. It's almost like an unspoken agreement; Regulus doesn't spare her a glance (at least none that she manages to catch), and Amaris doesn't go out of her way to approach him right then.
She's not stupid. The maiden is fully aware of the people Regulus chose to be around him, or rather, the people who followed him around as if he were their king.
Then again, whether or not people were subservient to the boy, she knows it won't stop them from going out of their way to make Muggle-borns miserable even if Regulus tells them otherwise.
It wouldn't do either of them any good, so she keeps her distance whenever they're not at the tower.
Even he has to admit that he's relieved to know that she wasn't a complete fool sometimes.
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The Hufflepuff leans against the pillar, facing the metal contraption in the middle of the tower, refusing to do what Regulus was doing because she's not brave enough to look down and remember how high they actually are. Unlike her, the Slytherin is facing the other way, gazing at the night sky as he leans against the railing, feet dangling from the platform.
Amaris breaks the silence that's been getting shorter and shorter these last few weeks of their coincidental meetings as she turns to the boy beside her, "I never got to ask, but do you actually know how to stargaze?"
"We're always at the Astronomy Tower, what do you think?" he drawled dryly.
"Great," she shifts in her spot and rotates her body to face him. "Can you teach me how? I've been struggling with drafting star charts in class."
"You sit here night after night at the Astronomy Tower, and after all this time, you're telling me that you don't know how to navigate the stars?" he looks at her with an incredulous expression plastered on his face.
Amaris gives him a sheepish smile instead of acknowledging his satirical mockery.
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The boy lets out an exasperated sigh, but he caves in anyhow, "What do you actually know?"
"I know the basics, theoretically. The professor said the most important thing to remember is that the northern star is called Polaris and the brightest one is Sirius," she explains. "But they're both bright. I can't tell them apart, and thanks to that, I can't plot all the other constellations."
"Well, first and foremost, you're not going to figure it out if you're sitting that far away," he clucked his tongue, grabbing her by the wrist to pull her to his side, allowing her to get a better view of the evening sky, a myriad of stars scattered about.
The sudden contact takes her by surprise, but she doesn't make a peep, listening intently as if keeping her mouth shut would prevent him from reverting back to the usual distance they kept. His hold on her gives her the right amount of courage she needed to ignore her fear of heights.
Regulus points towards the northeast, "You see those three stars near each other?"
The Hufflepuff follows his direction, "Uh-huh?"
"That's Orion's belt."
"Orion is the hunter, right?"
"Yeah," the boy answers curtly. "The star near it, the brightest one… That's Sirius."
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The girl realizes that a freshman couldn't have possibly known that much, especially since it was only recently discussed in the second-year classes. The way he talked down to her made her realize that he was aware of how stargazing worked long before they even met. That must've been why he chose to stay in the Astronomy Tower in the first place.
Curiosity gets the best of her and she inevitably asks, "How do you know all this?"
"My brother taught me."
She remembers hearing about the other Black who has been a common topic of rumors and a common object of fancy amongst numerous female students, "Sirius Black, right?"
"He used to show off, proud of the fact he was named after that bloody star," Regulus snorts, "Awfully full of himself, isn't he?"
Amaris realizes this was the first time the Slytherin ever shared something about himself, and for a moment the smile on her face falters in surprise.
A gentler and more solemn expression grew on her face as she queried, "Were you also named after a star?"
"It's a Black family tradition," he answers. Though it takes only a moment before he averts the topic once again.
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"Anyway… The Big Dipper rotates around Polaris. The position changes during different seasons but it's always up north," the Slytherin continued to teach her.
"What about Regulus?" Amaris faces him for a quick second before gazing back at the starry sky rather fondly.
"What about me?" he narrows his eyes at her sudden diversion. Regardless, his grey orbs lacked any hostility.
"Not you. The star. I want to know where it is," Amaris tells him frankly.
"Why?"
The maiden shrugs innocently, "Just curious."
Despite how her demeanor often lacked any ill-intent, it makes him wonder what the Hufflepuff truly was after. He can never decipher her reasons.
A snide voice in his head tells him, 'It's just pity.'
He wonders if he's just a charity case to her, perfectly aware of the way the girl loved playing saint.
Something about it causes an unsettling feeling to brew in his gut. The thought of it makes him want to puke, but there's that other emotion hiding at the back of his head and urging him to bask in it anyway. Loneliness had always been a plague that way.
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Instead of dwelling on it further, he averts his eyes away from her, "See those two stars in the Big Dipper? The ones opposite the handle?"
"Yeah?"
"Extend a line through it and you'll find it," he motions towards the east. "It's the brightest star in the Leo constellation."
The lion's heart.
'The fucking irony,' Regulus thinks.
It seems like the maiden had a similar thought in mind because she smiles wistfully as she asks, "The lion right?"
"Right," The Slytherin mutters in indignation.
"You know," Amaris trailed on. "You might make a decent Gryffindor."
"Because of that insignificant little detail?" he scoffed in return, making a face as he turned to her.
"You could live up to it. Being a Lionheart, that is."
Regardless of the way her azure eyes peer back at him, Regulus hisses, "Don't compare me to those fools with their insufferable heroics."
The boy takes offense at her words, feeling irked at the insinuation. He fails to consider the likelihood that she may have struck a nerve because she spoke of his desired truth.
But no.
He's a Slytherin through and through, he'd insist. He has to be.
That's what was expected of him— what was destined for him.
And even without all that, he's perfectly aware that he can't be a Gryffindor; not only because his family ostracised Sirius after being sorted in such a house, but also because Regulus Black knows that he doesn't have that kind of courage.
He can't even live up to the etymology of his name —never even had a chance to— because otherwise, he wouldn't have been suffering in silence.
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MARCH 1974
REGULUS HAD EVENTUALLY come up with a game of his own as if it would allow him to benefit from their usual evening rendezvous at the tower. He was easily vexed by the maiden but somehow, he comes up with the (foolish) idea that getting under her skin might alleviate the irritation prickling on his skin.
Despite his claims, they've been meeting more often anyhow.
As much as he hated to admit it (not that he was ever going to), the Hufflepuff was actually beginning to grow on him. There was something about her presence that seemed to avert his attention from the storm of heavy tumultuous emotions constantly brewing in his chest.
Amaris was an escape—
Her unyielding brightness often seemed to chase away the darkness hovering over him. And yeah, she still irks him, but somehow Regulus actually finds a momentary distraction in her actions, be it her utter naivety or perceived stupidity.
She wasn't a fool. Not completely at least, but other times he finds himself believing otherwise.
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Just before the fifth match of Quidditch season occurs, the maiden rushes past the stairs of the tower, a handful of snacks carried within her robe. She beams at the sight of him, and as soon as he catches her head slowly ascending the staircase, he can already hear her voice.
"Reg! Reg! I've heard that—" Amaris babbled on boisterously only to cut herself off. Her excitement causes her to trip over the last step, resulting in a groan of pain, "Ow, ow, owww— Damn it."
Regulus makes his way towards her crouched figure without thinking twice, unaware of his own concern for the maiden's wellbeing, "Do you have no sense of spatial awareness? Who in the bloody hell trips when climbing up the stairs?"
"Anyone can be a little clumsy," she looks up to meet his eyes, smiling through the pain that stemmed from her shin.
The way the boy rushed to her side doesn't go unnoticed, but she decides it's best not to rub it off. Instead, she silently basks in the small victory.
Then again, Regulus was still— Well, himself.
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When the pain had subsided and the Hufflepuff had stood up to dust herself off and regain her composure, Regulus doesn't beat around the bush. He immediately picks on her response, scoffing at her pathetic excuse, "A little clumsy? You ran into me quite literally the first time we met."
"You remember that?" Amaris wondered, eyebrows raised in surprise.
He gives a noncommittal shrug, "I tend to hold grudges."
"Liar," the maiden grins smugly. "You once said I'm not worth your wrath."
Being the Slytherin he was, Regulus decides to shift the topic instead of confirming or denying her claims. He refuses to affirm her statement— What more relinquish the upper hand?
Instead, he reminds her of what she came there for in the first place, "You were saying?"
"Oh, right," Amaris realizes after a beat.
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"I heard you're Slytherin's new seeker!" She beams the next moment as she happily rambled on, presenting the goods she carried with her robe, setting them on the floor as they sat across each other. "Congratulations, I got a bunch of things to celebrate."
Regulus is dumbfounded by her words. It's a first. Having someone cheer him on for nothing in return, that is. They weren't friends. They weren't even housemates. He can't find the sense in her actions.
Amaris was there, cheering him —an enemy— on, and even going as far as to offer him one of those flavored potato crisps that didn't even exist in the Wizarding World instead of keeping it for herself.
The Slytherin warily eyes the other snacks she laid out, recognizing the unfamiliar plastic wrappings and realizing that it was another one of those mediocre Muggle grubs the girl loved to snack on.
As usual, he doesn't even bother to touch any of them. But, at the maiden's insistence to celebrate, he points out frankly, reminding them of their different Hogwarts house, "Now that they have me, I'll give everything to crush Hufflepuff, you know."
Instead of taking offense, she genuinely laughs as she commends him, "That's the spirit. Should I pray to the goddess of victory to help you win?"
"Gods are for Muggles," he snorts, narrowing his eyes at her chuffed demeanor, "And besides, where's your house pride?"
"Relax, I'm cheering for my housemates too," she assures him. "We made banners and all that. In fact, the seniors are offering to paint our faces during the day of the match."
Regulus is still looking at her incredulously, unable to decipher the way her mind works.
"So this whole 'congratulations' is just a ruse then. What, are you expecting me to spill our tactics?"
"You are such a glass-half-empty kind of person," she chides him. "Can't I cheer for both you and the Hufflepuff players?"
"Only one of us is going to win," he reminds her of the obvious truth, still as blunt as ever.
"It's not like I'm cheering for the entire Slytherin team," she corrects him. "It's just for you."
"If I catch the bloody snitch, it'll be an immediate loss for you."
"Don't get all technical with me and just take the compliment, will you?" Amaris sighs, only to catch sight of the perplexed expression stuck on his face.
"Why?" He couldn't suppress the urge to ask, always so suspicious of everything.
She can't help but wonder what made him turn out this way, but knowing better than to pry, she tells him instead, "It's only natural to be proud of a friend."
Regulus laughs dryly, "We're not friends."
"Not yet," Amaris singsongs.
"Not ever."
"That's a lot of attitude for someone who stays despite knowing I'm here all the time," she counters back.
"Just because I haven't pushed you off a ledge, doesn't mean I want to be friends," he retorts, almost hissing the last bit.
"Just a year ago you wouldn't even spare me a glance, but look at us now," the girl reminds him as if she was actually confident of the fact that she can win him over. She's not, (believe her, she's barely ever sure of anything) but it doesn't stop her from goading him on, "Do you really want to bet against me?"
Regulus doesn't fail to notice the way the corners of the girl's lips quirk up to form one of her usual smiles once again. It doesn't fail to aggravate him.
But then, a part of him also thinks—
Maybe this isn't too bad either.