SIX OF PENTACLES
upright — generosity, community, support,
sharing, giving and receiving, gratitude
reversed — power dynamics, abuse of
generosity, strings attached gifts, inequality
AUGUST 1974
SUMMER GOES BY FASTER than Amaris had expected. The new school year is right around the corner but she's not any closer to Regulus than she was before the holidays and it's making her a tad bit anxious.
A small part of her can't help but fear that her efforts will be all for naught considering the fact that she has no other way to approach the boy aside from their time spent together at the school's Astronomy Tower.
That, and it wasn't as if they were on friendly-enough terms to keep contacting each other through letters amidst the holidays.
She also dreads the possibility of starting their relationship (if you can even call it one) over from the top— That by some chance, the few walls of Regulus Black that she had managed to tear down would come back even sturdier than ever.
As vivacious as Amaris was, his existence already played a role in her life and she doesn't want to lose that. Never fitting in the Muggle world, it was only in Hogwarts that Amaris had found the people she cherished and she had come to dread the day that they might eventually leave her. So far, the Slytherin was the closest to that.
She knows that she and Regulus are not even friends.
(Yet, at least.)
Regulus has yet to even call her by her name, often referring to her with a myriad of terms akin to 'idiot', 'dolt', 'you'— But hey, for what it's worth, he hasn't called her a 'Mudblood' in a long time.
The small gesture causes her to cling onto the flicker of hope that she was moving closer, be it as minuscule as it seemed. So even if her progress is still a little bit stagnant—
'It's not completely hopeless,' she'd remind herself.
'Baby steps.'
Hufflepuffs are not supposed to be afraid of toil anyway.
.
Aurora Soleil Alcott (née Leclair), the young witch's older sister, catches the sight of the maiden lying on their living room couch, pondering about god knows what. Their Siamese cat is resting on the blonde's stomach, purring softly as Amaris ran her hand gently through his fur.
She's so lost in thought that she fails to notice the owl that had just flown through the window, so the Muggle woman had taken it upon herself to receive her mail.
Aurora stretches out her arm for the Eagle-owl to perch on. She gives him a treat as soon as he hands over the letter, and then, she finally calls out to the younger girl.
"Amy, one of your friends sent another letter."
Amaris finally snaps out of her thoughts as she turns to the woman with similar blonde locks.
.
The older Leclair almost lets out a laugh when two identical pairs of sapphire eyes peer back at her. Their cat tilts its head just as Amaris does and she finds their similarity a tad bit amusing.
She gives her younger sister the letter as their cat finally gets up to trot over to one of the cushions.
"Thank you," Amaris says as she sits up. The girl opens the envelope and browses its contents almost immediately.
Her older sister asks curiously, "Who wrote it?"
"Pandora," the blue-eyed girl answers with a smile.
"Which one of your friends is this?"
"The one who always has her nose buried in a book."
Aurora mused, "And the other girl is?"
"Mary," the young witch answers. "She's spunky and a little hot-headed but she's also Muggle-born like me."
"I see."
"Speaking of which, she wants to meet up next week," Amaris side-tracks, looking up to gaze at her sister's caramel-colored eyes as she pleads, "Can I go?"
"Alright," Aurora, being the girl's legal guardian, agrees after a beat, but not without querying, "What were you two planning to do?"
"Some shopping. Our three other friends are pure-bloods and we thought it would be nice to get them some Muggle souvenirs," the Hufflepuff explained. "I mean, magic is nice and all but can you believe that they don't have the same technology over there?"
"Well, it's good that you finally have a lot of friends."
Amaris returns the affectionate expression on her sister's face with the brightest smile she could muster.
She wonders if it's enough to assure the older woman's worries.
She hopes it is.
.
It takes another beat before the young maiden notices the way her owl flexes his feathers relaxedly, still resting on her sister's arms. Amaris leans her arms against the back of their couch, kneeling on the cushions as she faces the woman to pout, "How come Aquila likes you more than he likes me?"
"To be fair, Leo likes you better," her sister counters back, motioning towards the cat brushing up against the girl's arm, tail flailing around. "And I give him a treat for every letter he brings. Otherwise, what kind of person would I be?"
"You bribed him?"
The Muggle woman narrows her eyes playfully, "It's not a bribe, it's a reward. You make me sound like some kind of sycophant."
"No—" Amaris tumbles over the back of the couch, having lost balance due to her excitement.
"Blimey, Ames," her sister immediately rushes to her side to help her up, the owl finally flying towards its tree stump. "Are you okay?"
"Yes! You're bloody brilliant, Sis. Bribery, that's it!"
Regardless of the way she fell to the ground, she immediately got up, cheering boisterously thanks to the bright idea. It was almost as if a light bulb shone from above her head.
Aurora narrows her eyes again, looking at her sister suspiciously as she warned, "Amy, I hope you're not planning on anything that would get you in trouble."
"Rory, when have I ever?" Amaris counters back, feigning innocence.
"Amaris Selene Leclair," her sister stressed. "What in the world are you scheming?"
"Nothing!" she raises her hands defensively. "I'm just trying to befriend some haughty, pretentious kid in school because he's somewhat of a loner and I personally believe that he can use some friends."
Aurora Leclair lets out a sigh before her lips quirk up to form a smile, "That's just like you."
"What do you mean?" the younger maiden tilts her head in confusion.
"It's just like you to do something noble like befriending the lonely because you want to give everyone a place to belong to," her sister explains.
Amaris blinks twice, having never seen it that way.
After all, she only wanted to give them a place to belong because she knew how it felt so herself. She was only returning the favor because she believed that everyone deserves at least that much.
And Regulus Black wasn't any different.
.
.
.
SEPTEMBER 1974
PANDORA LESTRANGE loves the thought of something new. All her life, her family has fit her into this tight little mold; the perfect little cutout of the typical pure-blood spawn.
It's suffocating, aggravating, and at some point, excruciating.
They impose all those stupid restrictions and call it 'tradition.' She sees it as involuntary conformity forced upon her with an iron fist.
Unlike her best friend, Amaris who was the antithesis of almost every other pure-blood, Pandora embraced the thought of being different.
Curiosity eats her from the inside out, stemming from her desire to break free from the orthodox rules that were dictated since her childhood. It's why she's always been fascinated by the thought of creating her own spells.
Experimenting meant deviating from the norm. It's out of the box— It's freedom and liberation.
That's why when her two Muggle-born friends hand her an array of writing materials on their way back to Hogwarts, she can't do anything else but stare at them in complete awe.
.
Pandora Lestrange is seated across Mary MacDonald and beside Amaris, who happened to be squeezed between Gideon and herself. The other Prewett twin, Fabian, sat beside his fellow Gryffindor as they continued to chat in their crowded train cabin.
The two Muggle-borns had seen it fit to give them their souvenirs right then, and it led to the sight of the Ravenclaw utterly flabbergasted by the Muggle gizmos.
"I don't think anyone's ever been this happy just by receiving a pen," Mary can't help but note, smiling in amusement as they watched Pandora open and close her mouth repeatedly, gaping at the gifts they gave her as if she were a kid at a candy store.
"—That's a pencil and eraser. These are colored pencils. This one is called a highlighter. The one with these tips are called ballpoint pens," Amaris continued to explain to the pure-blood witch beside her. "Best of all, you can all keep them in this pencil case."
"How—It's—Wha—How?" the Ravenclaw spoke incoherently, unable to keep her mind on track.
"Woah, a Ravenclaw who's at a loss for words? Now, that's rare," Gideon cackles.
His twin brother smirks, facing the two Muggle-born witches, "I think you broke her."
They all let out a laugh at her reaction.
.
"Don't get jealous," Mary teases, handing the boys a set of clicky pens, "We got you some too."
"We don't need any. We could've kept borrowing from Ames," Gideon tells them despite accepting the trinket and scrutinizing it in his hands.
"If you lose another one of my pens, I'm this close to feeding you to the giant squid," The Hufflepuff warns them, but regardless, they all know it's an empty threat.
"You're too soft. You wouldn't," Fabian snorts, clicking the end of the pen repeatedly just because he can.
Click. Click. Click.
"You really shouldn't have, though," Gideon gives them a grateful smile, being the more civil of the twins as proven by his brother's behavior.
Click. Click. Click.
"Well, quills are stupid," Amaris returns the smile, ignoring the other redhead, "We thought we'd share the privilege."
Click. Click. Click.
"Fabian, you insufferable git," Mary is the one who eventually snaps, "Stop clicking that pen, or else I'll be the one throwing you to the Black Lake."
He does the complete opposite by giving them a shit-eating grin and clicking it even faster.
Click. Click. Click. Click. Click—
He finally stops when Pandora flings an eraser at him.
When Amaris meets Regulus Black later that night, she keeps a stash of pens hidden in her robe in hopes that her 'bribe' would actually work in her favor. The young witch had snuck her way to the Astronomy tower right after the Great Feast, choosing to spend her time around him when in fact she had barely unpacked her belongings into her dormitory.
She was so lost in thought while waiting in the Astronomy Tower that she failed to recognize the possibility that he might not even come. Their usual night encounters were never really scheduled in the first place.
Nevertheless, instead of dwelling on such, Amaris was stuck wondering if he'd react the same way Pandora or the twins had. It would be nice if a smile finally replaces the typical scowl plastered on his face.
But alas, wishful thinking can only go so far.
.
Regulus had always known that Amaris Leclair was peculiar and unorthodox, often deviating from the norms he had grown up with. He can never fathom her reasons no matter how hard he tries—
Yet, here she was, doing it all over again.
The last thing he ever expected when he returned back to Hogwarts for their third year was the myriad of Muggle souvenirs the Muggle-born witch had gotten him.
She lays them out neatly, explaining how each and every one worked, just as she had with Pandora, but regardless, the apathetic expression on his face doesn't falter.
He can barely comprehend why there were so many knick-knacks for writing when in the end, they just do the same thing. He refuses to give his quill up— refuses to break tradition.
Besides, if it ain't broken why fix it?
.
As amused as he was to listen to her ramble and watch her sapphire eyes twinkle, by the end of it, he still refuses to give in to her attempts of winning him over.
"No thanks," The Slytherin responds rather bluntly.
"Really?" She groans in exasperation, surprised by the fact that he wasn't impressed by the least. "Even with all of this?"
"Nothing's going to change my mind so I advise you to just stop trying."
Regulus can't comprehend why she's even going this far for someone like him. They're basically strangers. This was more trouble than its worth—
But the smile on her face returns in almost a heartbeat.
'Merlin, can nothing ever bring her down?' the boy thinks.
(Little does he know, she has one last trick up her sleeve.)
.
Amaris gives him a cheeky little grin as she pulls out an ornate rectangular box decorated with silver embellishments. When she opens it up to show him, the fountain pen is resting on a red velvet cushion.
It's unlike all the other pens that she presented. The packaging was not the only thing that could attest to its high quality.
This was elegant and aesthetic but simple at first glance. When he stares a little longer it was only then that he learns to appreciate the smaller details.
"Okay, hear me out—" she began.
His eyes are still taken to the lion engraved on its silver body. A myriad of stars is scattered in a pattern that accented its ornamental design.
"—I saw this in the store when Mary and I were getting Pandora one. I went back and bought it because it made me think of you—"
It reminds her of him because she remembers how he taught her that Regulus was the brightest star in the Leo constellation— The lion's heart.
It makes her think of him because even if he doesn't, she still believes that he can live up to his namesake.
It's that baseless confidence of hers that always manages to aggravate him but even for a wizard who could get anything he desired —who got everything he could ever need— it's still the most thoughtful gift he's ever received from anyone.
He doesn't know what to feel.
.
"—You don't have to accept it but—" Amaris eventually cuts herself off when she realizes that Regulus was completely silent.
No snide remarks or haughty sneers. No nothing.
Just quiet.
His grey eyes are still plastered on the fountain pen, never leaving the object almost as if he was etching the memory in his mind.
Something about this silence reminds her of the comfortable one they often shared. Just the thought of seeing him this way makes her smile. This time her azure eyes also soften affectionately.
It's the first time she caught him off guard. (Or so she thinks, oblivious to the way he's often in awe of her peculiarities; the same qualities that often got in the way of her desire to fit in.)
She hopes that even if they weren't exactly friends, Regulus wouldn't be as lonely as he used to be with her around.
But—
Like she had believed when her sister had commended her for her intentions, she thinks it's not for a completely noble cause.
Humans are still humans after all.
The recollection of when they had first met simply leaves her unsettled.
.
It's something about his lonesome figure and empty eyes that make her chest ache and her stomach churn. It makes him seem so tired and hollow.
It's a familiar sight that reminds her of the Sycamore tree in the back garden of her old home.
That wretched awful day.
It's thoroughly unpleasant and it often leaves a foul taste in her mouth, the mere memory triggers all others as an oncoming wave of neurotic emotions engulfed her—
Because although loneliness doesn't hurt outright, it was an emotion that ate people up from the inside out, breaking their souls until they slowly begin to wither away.
It's daunting like a monster hiding underneath her bed, ready to pounce on her at night. It's a constant companion that would follow one around and remind them of their worst attributes. And worst of all, it's the thoughts that will eventually get to you.
It'll gnaw on one's head enough to drive one mad—
And she knows how that feels.
And she's seen what it has done to her mother.
And like she had first thought when her sister had said that it was just like her to give someone a place to belong, the young witch was simply aware of how no one deserves to feel any of that.
No one deserves to feel like they have no one who would help pull them out of deep waters— Like they have no one to stop them from drowning.
And even if she's no saint or hero, she's determined to give him that.
.
Amaris gives Regulus a knowing smile when she finally breaks the silence, "I finally got you, didn't I?"
"What?" Regulus snaps, narrowing his eyes defensively.
"You like it," Amaris expresses her observations. "It's the first time something I got you ever caught your eye."
"Oh please," he scoffs in denial. "It's appalling. It looks like it's made for a Gryffindor."
"You're the one who told me that I can't associate all lions with Gryffs because of that insignificant little detail," the maiden retorts smoothly.
He falls silent at the way she had used his own words against him.
"Look, I won't gloat," Amaris bites her lip in an attempt to stifle her laughter, but she still fails to suppress the way the corners of her lips quirk upward in amusement. She forces the box into his hands, and unlike most times, he doesn't put up much of a fight.
He refutes rather weakly, "I don't want it."
I don't need it.
He doesn't want to touch it— doesn't dare to take it, because accepting this stupid pen would make him indebted to her.
And beyond that, it meant taking a step forward to let her in.
.
"Yeah, yeah. But I might lose it so just take it…" she makes up some stupid excuse as to not trample on his pride. "Consider it as safekeeping."
He thinks it's pathetic of her since her intentions are as clear as day, but he doesn't return it back. Instead, the boy mutters under his breath, "You're insufferable."
"The polite thing to say would be 'thank you' but I'll let you off the hook for now," she laughs softly, happy with the way she was actually a step closer.
No matter how condescending he was acting, even she could tell how fond he was of the fountain pen.
Regulus ends up cherishing it not because it's from her (he'd insist pathetically), but because he's always been the type to take care of what was his.
It'll be one of the things that he has to hide under the wraps. But, hey—
He has so many secrets, what was one more to keep?
AS BRILLIANT AS HE WAS, Regulus Black makes a little slip-up when he uses the same fountain pen during one of his many lectures within that week. After all, as good as a professor McGonagall was, he still had to be able to write quickly enough to catch up with her teachings (not that he ever lagged behind the class). So he decides it was just about right to use it for that one time—
Only, the young wizard had already been using it more often than he sought.
Regulus Black was not daft though, he was always careful in regard to who was watching, adamant about not getting caught by anyone for that matter. Not only would that be incredibly foolish, but it would also lead to his public execution. He's smart enough to act accordingly as a Slytherin would.
It's just… Despite all that, he can't exactly deny how convenient the pen was. Even more so, when you cast a charm on it to lengthen its lifetime.
That doesn't mean he'll ever admit that Amaris was right. Even if he appreciated how useful the product was, there was no way on this goddamn planet that he was ever going to say it to her face.
Accepting the Muggle trinket had already been a blow to his pride, why in the world would he add up to that?
Only, it turns out that that little impromptu decision would somehow lead to the confirmation of a particular Ravenclaw's observations at the expense of said pride.
.
Much to both of their chagrin, for their third year of Transfiguration, Regulus Black was seated beside none other than Pandora Lestrange.
To their credit, it wasn't exactly as if they expressed their displeasure outright. They simply stew in silence, too preoccupied with their lecture to acknowledge each other's presence.
The two were alike in more cases than one because aside from how they both came from a pure-blood background, they were also both victims of Amaris Leclair's overwhelming brightness and persistence.
The primary difference between the two being:
Pandora had long accepted the fact that she liked being around the Muggle-born witch, enough to call the girl her best friend, whereas Regulus (she assumed) was still stuck in a state of denial.
He's stubborn as fuck and it was definitely still going to take a while but even she can tell that it was only about a matter of time until he opens his heart to the maiden.
In the first place, Pandora Lestrange was incredibly quick-witted.
She's not as insightful as Amaris when it comes to people's emotions but she's just as observant in regard to small changes and people's habits. It's why the two witches got along so well.
That being said, she doesn't fail to catch the familiar silver body of the fountain pen when he held it in his hand.
.
To his credit, Regulus, always as bright as a button, had immediately transfigured it to a feathered quill, quick enough for her to doubt her own eyes.
Not that Pandora would ever let him live it down though.
She decides to make the most of the opportunity, enacting her own form of revenge for the way he's been giving Amaris a hard time. (Really, she could actually make a name for herself as a Slytherin.)
Pandora knows that they were a tad bit protective of their friend, but in their defense, this was Regulus fucking Black.
Even if she had supported Amaris' intentions, Pandora, of all people, is aware of how the pure-blood society tends to be, even more so one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Decent pure-bloods were almost a rare breed and Amaris was a tad bit too kind that it makes her seem defenseless. They always thought the Hufflepuff could use all the help she can despite her insistence on handling it herself.
Don't get her wrong, Pandora truly believes that her best friend could succeed in her attempts of changing the boy's prejudice, but—
You can't exactly blame her for acting out of a childish grudge, can you?
It wasn't like she was going out of her way to hex him. The joy of making witty comebacks was the way that she can mess with them just as much.
So, the maiden, ever so frank, chooses not to hold back. At all.
.
"For a pure-blood bigot. It's awfully hypocritical of you to use a Muggle item."
"What nonsense are you spouting this time, Lestrange?"
"She gave you that, did she not?" she motions towards his quill despite how he had transfigured to appear the same way as everyone else's.
"Gave me what?" Regulus plays dumb, evading her insinuations with perfected nonchalance.
"Oh please, Black," Pandora scoffs, eyes never leaving the chalkboard their professor had been writing on. "I saw the pen."
"What is it to you?" he spat venomously.
"I also caught the way you've been sneaking glances at her."
His face hardens for a quick second, but he still regains his composure rather hastily, "I was glaring. You incorrigible lot were always a pain with your ear-splitting noise."
Even if she didn't notice the way she managed to faze him, having been too distracted by the lecture, Pandora continues to goad him on, "I still don't know what she sees in you— Let's face it, I doubt any of us ever would, but Amaris has been trying so hard to be your friend. I support her decision…"
"So what are you yapping on about?"
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to warn you, Black," she gives him a quick glare before averting her eyes back in front to avoid McGonagall's suspicions, but not without hissing, "If you hurt her, I swear to Merlin—"
"You're from the same world as I am, Lestrange," Regulus interrupts her before she even finishes her threat. "I'm pretty sure that a Ravenclaw such as yourself would know it's wise for her to stop from getting too close to either of us. If anything, you're being the fool so stop preaching."
"Didn't you know?" A small smirk makes its way to her lips. "Honey badgers are said to have a strong immunity to snake venom."
"What the hell are you implying?"
"It would do you well to stop underestimating Amaris," Pandora tells him knowingly. "She couldn't care less about who you are and where you came from. She'll see you for who you are. It's her best aspect."
He knows that.
.
Amaris Leclair was unlike everybody else and it was her best aspect.
She's not unique in a shallow sense— Surely, he would never be one to admit some sappy bullshite and claim that she wasn't like the other girls.
She's special in a way that she was nothing like the people he's often surrounded by— Not anything like the people who stay by his side due to his standing and their hidden intentions. And definitely nothing like the others who'd hold their head high and send him hostile glances and sneers. His world had always been between that black and white.
But then, there she was, existing as the very person who had defended him from the people she claimed to be her friends despite being entitled to hate his guts for all the things pure-bloods had done to Muggles and Muggle-borns alike. She was the very person who was irked by the insinuation and the prejudice that had become a norm in his life— The very person who stuck by his side despite all his attempts to push her away.
She sees him for who he was— who he wanted to be.
And he fucking knows that.
It would have been so much easier if it wasn't the case because that way, he would have the guts to drive her away. He can just be done with it. He wouldn't even recognize the weakness he had been desperately trying to suppress.
So he tells himself that 'different' is a bad thing because it's always been easier to keep his guard up than to face the fear that stemmed from that chronic feeling of loneliness— because it's always easier to lose something he never had over something he cherished deeply.
Thus, when Pandora Lestrange snidely finished by saying, "You better learn to appreciate her before she gets sick of your off-putting personality"— Regulus Black can't find it in himself to retort against that.
He can pick apart his flaws so easily that even he was aware of the gnawing truth: It was only going to be a matter of time until he loses the one person adamant to fight on his side.