a/n: henlo, there have been people asking if this fanfic has a playlist. if you're interested, it's available on spotify, entitled "all is fair in love and war" just look up the user: littledewdrops. this work is part of a series, so other works also share the same playlist.

also, as we continue with the rest of the story, i'll be tackling some serious themes such as child abuse, mental disorders, trauma and the like. they will be paced gradually and it's not yet bad enough for me to raise the rating to mature, but considering that these are sensitive topics that may possibly be triggering, please be wary of warnings presented at the beginning of some chapters.

tw: implied/ referenced abuse, trauma and similar themes. please read with reader discretion.

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THREE OF CUPS

upright friendship, community,
gatherings, celebrations, social events

reversed gossip, isolation, loneliness,
solitude, imbalanced social life


OCTOBER 1974


IF ONE WERE TO CALL XENOPHILIUS LOVEGOOD STRANGE, it would have been an incredible understatement. He was the boy who believed in Nargles, Wrackspurts, and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks— The one who put his faith in the unfathomable. They call him mad; absolutely bonkers.

But hey, some of the best people usually are.

It's something Amaris Leclair had eventually grown to believe when they met the boy amidst their third-year elective.

.

Amaris and Pandora both found themselves sharing a crystal ball with the aforementioned boy in their Divination class, the blonde maiden being seated between two Ravenclaw misfits of their year.

The Hufflepuff, feeling groggy due to their professor's slow and soothing voice, was in the midst of staring outside the window debating on whether she should have tea or coffee later that afternoon. Coffee would have been the practical choice considering the amount of homework she wanted to get ahead on, but tea was undoubtedly calming—

"Is that a Dobbie stone?"

The girl is eventually snapped out of her thoughts when Xenophilius takes notice of the charm hanging on the maiden's neck. Her eyes fall on the familiar stone she kept around her throughout her entire time in Hogwarts… Er, or a bit before that.

It was the same trinket engraved with runes, handed to her by that eerie clairvoyant that had vaguely predicted her acceptance to Hogwarts. Even to this day, she wonders whether or not the woman was a genuine seer.

.

"Is it?" Amaris holds the stone in her palm, unaware of what it even pertains to. "I always just kept it around me as a lucky charm. Mary suggested I wear it so I don't lose it."

"Now that I think about it," Pandora recalled, turning to face the maiden, "You never told us about how you received it."

"Some old lady gave it to me… I believe she was some kind of fortune-teller in some alley? I took Divination to find out more about it but I haven't had an ounce of an answer," the Hufflepuff explained.

The two Ravenclaws share a look as if they had the same thing in mind.

Her words seem to spike her best friend's interest, "You met a seer? Was it a true seer?"

"Maybe," Amaris shrugged. "She spoke in riddles. It was a bit gibberish, to be honest."

"Do you remember what exactly it was that she told you?" Pandora continued to bombard her with questions.

"There were two readings, three cards each…" Amaris reckoned, browsing through a deck of tarot cards setting them separately on the table.

The Hermit. Death. The Hanged Man. Four of Wands. Strength. The Star.

"I can't be certain that I remembered them correctly though."

Pandora sits upright and leans closer towards the table as she takes them, "Which are upright and reversed?"

"I… I don't know," Amaris gives her a quizzical expression, wondering why the two pure-bloods are looking at her as if she was a puzzle that can't be solved. "It's been a long time since then, Dora."

.

Xenophilius clears his throat, interrupting the pair as he motioned toward her necklace, "May I?"

"By all means," Amaris answers in less than a beat, lifting the chain over her neck and handing it over.

His shoulder-length platinum blonde locks fall on his face as he scrutinized the object. Pandora seemed to be equally interested in deciphering the meaning behind the runes.

The Hufflepuff lets out a soft chuckle, finding it amusing to find someone as easily invested in the unknown as her best friend was.

She knows they weren't likely to hear her, too distracted by the puzzle they've been trying to solve, but still attempts to ask, "What's a Dobbie stone anyway?"

Xenophilius looks up to meet her ocean eyes that were akin to his paler blue ones. "They go by many names, commonly known as Odin stone, hag stone, witch stone— Some even call them serpent eggs."

"They are rare rocks carved by nature with a hole just like this," he went on. "Some suspect that they come from the head of a serpent or the sting of an adder. Others claim they're formed by water."

"The Muggles once believed that they serve as protection from witches, fairies, and dobbies. Some say they cure certain illnesses, or ward off nightmares," Xenophilius mused. "I reckon that Druids even consider them as one of their distinguishing badges. These are all suppositions albeit."

"In regard to magical properties, they're believed to be a gateway key that can dispel the evil eye. It's for that reason that it also coined its reputation as a Seeing Stone. Looking through it in moonlight allows you to see a glimpse of the Otherworld. Though I suppose as witches and wizards, we already see such—" he finally cuts himself off when he realizes the lack of response from either maiden.

.

Amaris is rendered speechless, staring at him in awe as if she can't believe that someone had memorized all that information for mere rock. Whereas, Pandora had opted to observe silently as if the dump of information piqued her interest.

Despite the lack of malice in their gazes, the boy feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment, "O-oh I'm sorry. I tend to prattle on unless someone stops me."

"It's alright. It's nice to learn new things," the Hufflepuff assures him with a warm smile.

"Most people believe otherwise," Xenophilius says regretfully.

"What made you say so?"

"We as humans have a tendency not to acknowledge what we fail to understand. I guess it's fair to say that we fear the unknown, and then… Well, there's me, who tends to ramble on about them."

"Then those people are fools," Pandora chimed in without sparing a beat.

"Pardon?"

She states her point rather frankly, "Are they truly that arrogant to believe that everything has already been discovered? Magic for one is a fantasy to Muggles and yet it exists, does it not?"

"Are you saying you— You believe in me? You believe in things like Nargles and Wrackspurts?" Xenophilius is flabbergasted by the way that someone actually believed his words.

"I'm not entirely opposed to the possibility that they may exist," his fellow Ravenclaw responds nonchalantly, "And knowing Amaris, she'd believe in anything you say with barely a thought."

Amaris mutters, "You make it seem like I'm gullible and daft."

"Oh, you know I don't mean it that way," Pandora playfully nudges her arm before contemplating her own words, "Although, you are a tad too idealistic that most times you come across as naive."

"It's called being righteous. Being open-minded isn't a crime, everyone deserves a chance to be heard," Amaris defended.

"I'm open-minded," Pandora corrected. "Going about things carelessly is more akin to naiveness."

"Where are you really going with this?" the Hufflepuff narrows her eyes warily, wondering if the girl was trying to remind her of how reckless it is to even attempt to befriend a Black.

"You're too kind."

"Only you can turn that into an insult, Dora."

They're suddenly interrupted by the soft laughter that erupted from the boy.

.

The two best friends turn toward him in unison, unable to comprehend what was so funny.

"I'm sorry, it's just… You're a rather odd pair," he admitted, having never expected to meet such people in a Divination class.

They're nothing like he expected.

He's always seen Pandora Lestrange around, having been sorted into the same house but he would have never considered that she'd be nothing like the typical pure-blood supremacist, much less anything like the soft-spoken girl people would have assumed she was otherwise.

Meeting Amaris Leclair, on the other hand, and having her listen intently to his musings, allows him to realize that it was no wonder a girl like her —despite her Muggle roots— was friendly with a Lestrange or the famous Prewett twins. She had an aura that drew people toward her.

Around them, he discovers a sense of comfort he had never attained around his peers before.

"Don't get me wrong, I like it," Xenophilius doesn't fail to add, astonished to finally find people who might be just as peculiar as he was because even he was aware that oddness —or madness (it's one and the same in his book)— was a quality that made people all the more interesting.


Amaris Leclair finds herself late for her next period, having been too invested in Xenophilius' ramblings about Wrackspurts and whatever imaginary creature there was. Not that she'd complain, it's always entertaining to be surrounded by Ravenclaws. They can come up with the craziest unorthodox ideas, and sometimes that in itself was amazing.

Considering that she had been more than a couple of minutes tardy, the girl sneaks into her Potions class. Her small figure was crouched down as she trailed the perimeter of the room, trying not to catch any attention but then, her fellow classmates disperse to their assigned tables in pairs, and she finds herself feeling lost. A couple of her housemates send her apologetic glances, but alas, she's left to fend for herself.

Thankfully, just before the girl roamed around like some stray cat —or worse, bashfully confront Slughorn and face the repercussions of her tardiness— she felt someone grab her arm, leading (or rather, dragging) her to a table as if it were the most natural thing for them to do.

It's only when she turns her head to look them in the eye that she recognizes the familiar person.

"You're with me," Regulus finally spoke, informing her when she sneaks a glance at him.

"Really?" Amaris finds herself taken aback by the sudden turn of events.

Bloody hell, she's surprised for Regulus Black to have even made an effort to touch her first.

She supposes it must have been a mere coincidence like that one time in the Astronomy Tower when he pulled her near his side. After all, she's fully aware that he still considers her as a filthy little Mudblood—

But, still.

It's hard to suppress the smile that forms on her lips as her face lights up at the mere thought of their budding friendship.

.

The next thing Amaris knows, she's already standing in front of a table, cauldron, potion ingredients, and book already prepared in front of her.

She barely even had the time to process everything going on and so, she backtracks, knowing that no other Slytherin would have voluntarily chosen to pair up with a Muggle-born whether or not they agreed to the unjust supremacy. Doing so would not only ruin their social life, but it would also earn them the title of a blood traitor alongside every other threat or jinx that pure-bloods believed they'd deserve.

"Wait, how did that even happen?"

"Slughorn permits those who are at the top of the class to freely work alone," Regulus doesn't beat around the bush, narrowing his eyes at her but lacking the hostility to seem intimidating. "But someone had the audacity to arrive late and I ended up getting asked to handle you."

She purses her lips together to give him a wry smile, "Sorry."

Not bothered by the predicament in the slightest despite how he made it seem, Regulus looks up to meet her eyes after a quick glance at their Potions textbook, "What took you so long anyway?"

The Slytherin was already creating the potion assigned for them to make as if it were an art he had practiced. The maiden, on the other hand, lagged a couple of steps behind.

"I got caught up in Divination," Amaris answers, still reading stuck at the instructions. She's trying to help him (really, she'd insist), but Regulus is so adept at most things and he clearly doesn't plan to accept any form of assistance she'd offer. (Not that he needed it.)

"You're taking Divination?" he scoffs derisively.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"It's absolute bollocks."

She looks up from her book to look him in the eye as she defended, "Nuh-uh!"

"Nuh-uh?" Regulus snorts in amusement, mocking her choice of words. "What an extremely convincing argument."

"Oh, you—" Arrogant prat, she wanted to say, but their professor had cleared his throat, narrowing his eyes at her and her alone.

.

The Potions Master had been striding around the room, eyeing their performance. His large stature easily overpowers her shorter one, even more so when Amaris shrinks beside Regulus.

Now, while Slughorn had often claimed that he wasn't prejudiced against Muggle-borns, Amaris knows for a fact that the man always played favorites.

Regulus was certainly an exception, but her? Not so much.

It wasn't as if she had any special qualities that distinguished her from the rest. And even if she wasn't failing his subject per se, the girl still had to exert an extreme amount of effort like anyone else would.

So, in fear that she'd be on the receiving end of his contempt, the Hufflepuff immediately shuts her mouth.

She only gives her fellow classmate a quick glance which just as a Slytherin would, he seemed to have understood perfectly.

Nevertheless, they continue to work in silence for the rest of the period, nudging each other and giving each other a few teasing glances here and there to make up for their inability to bicker with each other.

. . .

Even if their professor hadn't called out to them right after dismissing the class, Amaris already anticipated that she was going to get in trouble. Yet, when it does happen, the way her palms turn cold and clammy was still an inevitable reaction.

"Regulus and…" his eyes fall on her figure as if he was still unable to recall the names of his other students despite it being more than a month. He ends up settling for the wrong name anyway. "Leblanc, a word?"

The Hufflepuff fiddles with her fingers nervously, picking on her nails as she and Regulus stood side by side.

He must have noticed the panicked expression on her face because the next thing she knows, he places a hand on her back. It goes unnoticed by their professor thanks to the dark robes that draped over their figures but she's completely moved by the simple gesture.

Amaris sends him a thankful glance as the man in front of them continues to prattle.

He returns it with a snort, an unspoken way to tell her to get her shite together.

.

"As much as I appreciate your exemplary performance in my class," Slughorn continued to speak jovially, looking at Regulus during every compliment he gives, eyes falling back at Amaris whenever he's not. "I do not enjoy any disturbances amidst our lectures."

"Now, it's delightful to know that you two as lab partners are getting along but I surely hope that both of you are exerting equal effort in this subject. We wouldn't want one working, while the other is merely running their mouth, would we?"

Amaris, perfectly aware that the man was referring to her, finds the courage to maintain her composure thanks to the hand that remained still behind her back.

"I'm sorry, Professor. Regulus was just explaining the difference between crushing and cutting up a Sopophorus bean. I was finding difficulty understanding the effects, you see," she manages to say, bluffing in the heat of the moment.

"Hmm…"

When Slughorn continues to look at her a tad bit longer as if confirming his suspicions, Regulus comes to her aid with his typical golden-boy smile, hand finally retreating from her back.

"My apologies, Sir. I'll see to it that it won't happen again."

The man seemed to be content with that, letting them off quickly. "Not to worry, Regulus, my boy. You are both dismissed."

.

Once they finally walk out of the classroom, Amaris lets out a breath of relief, notebooks gathered in her arms. She turns to Regulus to tease him without sparing another beat, "You are such a kiss-up."

"You were the one who lied to his face," he retorts, a small smirk on his lips. "And you call yourself a Hufflepuff?"

"I've always been truthful to you," the maiden counters back with a cheeky little smile.

"And you say I'm the kiss-up," the Slytherin scoffed.

"You were the one brown-nosing Slughorn, and I was being honest," she raises her right hand. "I don't lie to you. Scout's honor."

He wants to sneer at the mere mention of their Potions Master, fully aware of how he liked showcasing his favorite students like they were his own trophies. (Not that he wasn't used to being paraded like some bloody show pony; his parents weren't any different after all.) But instead of telling her all that, he coolly argues back, "It's not my fault I'm one of his favorites."

"Ah, Regulus Arcturus Black," Amaris sighs, shaking her head mockingly, "Always so bloody brilliant."

Something about the way she says it feels different compared to those looks of pride or sneers of envy he'd receive from the people who had told him those very same words.

There's no pressure— no crushing expectations.

She's just messing around with him as if they were old friends.

So, he plays along with their little charade, "We wouldn't be in that predicament if you weren't such a bad influence in the first place."

"I'm the bad influence?" the Hufflepuff gasps accusingly. "I bet your head is full of Wrackspurts. That's why you always have a dour expression plastered on your face."

"Wrackspurts?" Regulus furrows his eyebrows in confusion, wondering what she could be possibly on to.

"Don't tell me…" A scowl envelops his face when he finally recalls the infamous boy who often uttered such nonsense. "You were hanging out with that lunatic, Lovegood?"

"Hey, don't call him that," Amaris chides. "And if you have to know, he's a new friend of mine."

"Ugh, you and your incorrigible—"

"Amaris?" A familiar voice cuts their conversation short.

.

Amaris turns to find none other than Mary MacDonald and two accompanying Gryffindors who had been waiting for her as if the dungeons —the very place the Slytherins lurked— were too dangerous for her to venture on her own. (The very person they feared was the one standing beside her anyhow.)

The three 'stooges' (as Pandora had called them) had been at it for a month now, yet it was only then that they actually witnessed the girl interact with the infamous Slytherin boy. And so closely at that.

Regulus Black doesn't miss the way the Prewett twins glare daggers at him.

He responds with an equally cold hard stare. The atmosphere was downright chilling.

Amaris breaks the tension by walking between them, trying to seem unfazed to the best of her ability.

Wouldn't want anyone to throw hands after all... Or worse, raise wands.

"Oh, hey, what are you lot doing here?"

"We have our next period together, remember?" Fabian spoke as if they had the duty to escort her, "C'mon."

She checks the watch on her wrist, slightly berating herself for the way she's been losing track of time throughout the day, "Ah, right."

"What took you so long anyway?" Gideon asked, turning away from the boy behind the maiden to avert his full attention toward her.

"Slughorn had us stay behind," Amaris began to explain. "You see, I—"

.

She had faced her friends whilst talking to them but she doesn't fail to recognize the way Regulus had turned his heel to leave, clearly adamant to avoid the sudden company whom he seemed to have deemed unpleasant.

The blue-eyed girl turns back to tell him, cutting their conversation short, "See you later, Reg!"

He simply walks past her, robe flowing behind him as he walked with his usual prideful stance.

Despite the way he doesn't respond, she's not too bothered by his snobbish demeanor. She knows that they'll be meeting each other in the Astronomy Tower later that night.

.

While the maiden's attention had been evidently averted to the infamous Black, the three Gryffindors turned to each other as if to telepathically converse about how outrageous it was for their dear angel of a friend to be referring to such fiend familiarly. (And a tad too friendly at that.)

"Reg?" Mary mouths to the twins incredulously as soon as they hear the nickname escape the girl's lips.

"Crikey, it might be worse than we thought," Fabian whispered back, earning a nudge from his brother in an attempt to appear inconspicuous when the Hufflepuff turned back to face them.

"What?" Amaris raises an eyebrow when she finally faces them, finding their posture rather odd.

"Nothing," the trio responds. The fact that they had done so in unison only seemed to prove that it was definitely not 'nothing' but the Hufflepuff doesn't seem to dwell on it any further.

At that moment, she's a bit too happy for anything to bring her down.

The feeling of his hand still lingered on her back.

.

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NOVEMBER 1974


"YOU UNGRATEFUL SWINE!" he could vividly recall the way his father bellowed in pure unadulterated rage. It's a rarity in their household for him to even be the one yelling. The man may have been stern, but he was more often indifferent to his children.

It was as if Orion was the last resort; his mother being the first line of defense, constantly berating them for their faults before the man would have the chance to. And with that notion, Regulus can already guess how grave the situation must have been.

The tone of their father's voice doesn't fail to send shivers down his spine, yet Regulus can't help but wonder how much worse it possibly was for the person at the receiving end of it.

He can still remember the way he curled up against some corner of the dark halls in their home, hand over his ears, begging whatever deity there was for the screaming to stop.

Despite the wall between them, —despite the fact that he wasn't even present in that room— the younger Black hears his brazen brother scream back, "Go to hell! It's my bloody life, I can do whatever the hell I want with it!"

"Shame of my flesh! You call yourself a son of mine?!"

"I didn't choose to be a part of this bloody house!"

Regulus wishes it would stop.

He was just eleven, but his mind still chants no matter how often the same predicament occurred—

'Please. Please. Pleasepleaseplease—'

And then, his mother finds him down the hall.

.

"Regulus, my dear?" Walburga Black crouches down to meet his eyes, placing her hands over her son's. Her similar raven hair cascades over her shoulders.

Putting aside her shrill voice and unruly temperament, the woman was as dignified and elegant as one would expect from a mistress of the mansion.

Regulus can't help but wonder how shaken he must have appeared for his mother's hazelnut eyes to soften at the sight of him. The woman goes as far as to pull him into a tight embrace as if it would assure him—

It doesn't.

She holds him a tad bit too tight.

It's more suffocating than endearing but he can't find it in himself to tell her that.

And it only gets harder to breathe when he hears the words his mother chants in his ears, "It's alright, my son. I know you won't fail us. You're nothing like your sorry excuse of a brother. You won't even spare a glance at those disgusting scum— those filth of the earth, half-breeds, Mudbloods. You can make this family proud. You will, won't you?"

"I-I…" Regulus stammers, finding it difficult for the words to leave his lips.

.

The noise had finally dissipated, the shrill voice of his mother being the only thing echoing in his ear. He can't tell whether it's due to the dread weighing in his gut or from the likelihood that their father must have silenced Sirius with a swing of his cane.

This wasn't what he wanted when he yearned for the screaming to stop.

His mother's hands fall on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as the woman sternly looks him in the eye, "Regulus Arcturus Black. Swear upon it."

The boy swallows the lodge that had formed in his throat, forcing out a response, "Y-Yes, Mother."

It's the same voice in his head that constantly echoes amidst every move he took; the reason he feared being sorted as Gryffindor, why he was absolutely terrified to follow in his brother's footsteps, why he never had the guts to defy their beliefs.

He can't tell how Sirius does it.

It's so damn hard to breathe and he feels like he's drowning. They're clawing at his throat, stealing the air from his lungs. His insides feel like they're being engulfed in flames.

It always feels like he's drowning.

. . .

Regulus Black jolts awake, drenched in a cold sweat. A scowl immediately glosses over his features as he vaguely recalled the damned nightmare (er, memory) that disturbed him from his slumber.

It's been more than a damn year, but the emotions from those godawful days were still as vivid. His chest constricts at the mere thought of it—

But he can't let anyone know. He can never let anyone know.

And that's how everybody goes about their lives without a single clue.

When he looks around his dormitory, the rest of his roommates are still sleeping soundly in their beds. Envious and aggravated by their peace, he begrudgingly rises and puts his robe on.

His throat still feels tight and he's in desperate need of a breath of fresh air.

'Yes, that must be it. No need to make a big deal out of it,' he thinks as he sneaks out of his room.

.

The Slytherin boy, having successfully dodged Filch and other lookouts, made his way towards the Astronomy Tower in the dead of the night. He gets away with it with ease, having the routine ingrained in him after all those nightly visits to the tower.

What manages to catch him off-guard though, was the sight of the lone maiden leaning against a pillar, watching the skies in silence.

"Regulus?"

He had to blink twice to make sure he wasn't going delusional from his lack of sleep, but alas, she truly was there; always at the right place at the right time as if she knew exactly when it was he needed someone around him.

She doesn't know, of course. But regardless, it doesn't stop Amaris from beaming at the mere sight of him, "Why are you still awake?"

"Why are you still awake?" he returns the question despite being aware that it was far too late for either of them to still be there.

The moon was still high and the skies were still dark, but surely this had been far later than any of their usual nightly meetings.

"I couldn't sleep," the Hufflepuff answers, "I'm a tad too excited about our first trip to Hogsmeade tomorrow, you see."

"What are you, a child?" he snorts in amusement but because of his fatigue, it ends up sounding more apathetic than he sought.

Amaris rolls her eyes at him anyway, huffing bashfully. "Oh, sod off."

.

Too exhausted to muster another response, he takes a seat beside her, leaning against the same pillar, albeit this time around, he doesn't bother to gaze at the stars.

Instead, he catches a glimpse of the girl beside him, his mind too groggy for him to recognize their close proximity.

From where he was seated, he could observe each puff of air she exhales. It's white and he can only assume that she's probably been there for a while considering the crimson tint of her nose. Yet, she's still smiling cheerfully at him as if she was delighted by his company.

Her brightness has yet to falter.

Merlin, how he wishes he could be as easy-going as she was.

And yet, another voice in his head whispers—

'She's like a breath of fresh air.'

Fuck.

He was out of his bloody mind to even think of such. The exhaustion was clearly taking a toll on him.

.

Regulus snaps out of his thoughts in time to hear Amaris break the silence, eyeing him in concern, "I told you my reasons… Now, why are you still awake?"

She reaches out to brush his fringe back, checking on his complexion, "You look a little peaky. Are you alright?"

"As good as I'll ever be," the Slytherin spat, flinching away from her hand. He probably looked like a wreck, and from the way he stiffened from the sudden contact, he can only guess that his words were no doubt unconvincing. But regardless, he refuses to count on anyone even if it would be the death of him.

Amaris' uneasy expression doesn't seem to falter, yet she decides it's better not to pester him. Instead, trying not to seem affected by the way he had avoided her touch, she brings her hands close to her mouth, rubbing them together in an attempt to warm herself up.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asks thereafter.

Regulus only grunts in acknowledgment, eyes kept shut, head slightly pounding. He focuses on slowing down his breathing in hopes to regain his composure, all the while refusing to admit that Amaris' presence actually manages to alleviate the turbulent emotions that weighed on his chest.

It only takes a matter of minutes before he's finally at peace, lethargy, and fatigue taking over.

He almost dozes off at one point if not for the girl's soft voice, suggesting, "I can leave if you need to spend some time alone."

"Shut your trap and just sit still."

Regulus doesn't bother to open his eyes and look back at her, but he mutters it too softly and too drowsily for her to take offense from his words.

.

The next thing she knows, the silence engulfs them. Amaris turns her head to look at the boy, his eyes are still shut and he's slightly nodding off but she can't seem to tell whether or not he had completely fallen asleep.

"Reg?" she whispers softly, just in case she might be disturbing his slumber.

Just as she anticipated, he doesn't respond, consciousness already drifting off. She sits and stews in silence, resuming what she had been doing before he even got there.

But then, his head slides against the pillar and falls onto her shoulder—

And at that, the Hufflepuff is unable to do anything else but freeze.

.

Amaris finds herself utterly flabbergasted by the sudden turn of events. She debates on waking him up, afraid he'd find their situation rather displeasing once he regains his consciousness, but she knows better than to disturb his slumber, seeing as the boy was clearly exhausted.

Her face heats up ever so slightly from the thought that she's never been this close to a boy, but she immediately shakes the thought off because… Merlin, this was Regulus Black and it was already hard enough to be friends.

But, considering that the same boy was comfortable enough to lean against her shoulder despite all his previous claims that Mudbloods were downright filthy, then by some unspoken agreement they already are friends, weren't they?

'Ugh,' the blue-eyed maiden mentally grumbles, finding it difficult to find the answer to her questions, having barely made any friends during her childhood in the first place. 'There should be some kind of manual for this.'

Either way, when she peeks beside her to catch a glimpse of the Slytherin's sleeping figure so serene without that typical scowl plastered on his face, she supposes it wouldn't be too bad to let him rest a little longer.

. . .

Regulus Black gets the best sleep he hasn't gotten in a long time. He can't tell if it's a dreamless one, though if he did dream of something, it was just as easily forgotten. Not that he minded; he'd readily choose that over his nightmares.

If he was being completely honest, he never felt so serene and for a moment he yearns to stay that way for eternity—

That was until a soft voice managed to disrupt his slumber.

"—Lus! Regulus!"

.

Amaris kept whispering loudly, and yet soft enough for any passersby not to find them in the tower. She checks on her wristwatch frantically, nudging him with the shoulder he was leaning on in an attempt to wake him up.

"Mhm…" Still half-asleep, the Slytherin only grumbles in response, blinking blearily and yet failing to keep his eyes open. "What?"

He wakes up to catch the most beautiful pair of azure eyes peering back at him, and he could swear to Merlin that they could put sapphire jewels to shame.

It reminds him of vast oceans and bright blue skies— The freedom he never got to taste.

.

"Regulus," the maiden interrupts his train of thought rather easily, just as she hissed softly, "It's almost dawn. We have to go. We'll be caught outside our dorms."

Now, that gets him up.

Regulus startled at her words, sitting straight up. It only takes a beat for him to realize that he had fallen asleep leaning on a Mudblood (and he was so damn comfortable at that).

"Shite," he curses under his breath, realizing the gravity of his actions.

If his parents could see him now, his body would be buried six feet under the bloody ground— No. By their terms, he wouldn't even deserve a proper funeral.

Shite. Shite. Shite.

'You utter fool,' he mentally berates himself. 'Salazar Slytherin would be turning in his grave.'

.

Always one to care too much about others, the Hufflepuff turns to him in concern, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he answers back, seeming apathetic, but his usual scowl is once again plastered on her face and it manages to get her to chuckle.

This was the Regulus she knew, and there was something about the disparity of his tranquil features that manages to amuse her as much as it had assured her.

She may have stopped feeling intimidated by his presence a long time ago, but whatever lingering emotions still left were immediately washed away right then.

Amaris manages to attain a sudden epiphany; that perhaps there was something soft hidden beneath all his rough edges.

.

On the flip side, as her spontaneous laughter made its way to his ears, he feels his mother's tight grip on his shoulder.

The woman's words continuously haunt him as if she had long set up camp in his mind— But Amaris is smiling brightly at him and he can't seem to bring himself to push her away.

Regulus comes to the realization that he might be even worse than his blood traitor brother for the truth remains:

Once one gets used to the comfort of the light, it's not as easy to return and bask in the overwhelming darkness.


Amaris yawns for the nth time that day as they roamed around the bustling streets of Hogsmeade. A white blanket of snow was draped over the roofs of the cottages, with evergreen wreaths, and enchanted candles decorating the area, and yet she can't find it in herself to appreciate the view due to the way the lack of sleep had taken a toll on her body.

Each puff of air she exhales is just as white as the falling snow, and so, she opted to bury nearly half of her head in her Hufflepuff scarf.

Had she worn her robe and her usual uniform adorned by similar black and yellow tones, she would have sworn she'd look like a bumblebee, but thank Merlin for casual attire.

Despite the way that Hogsmeade happened to be the only non-Muggle settlement throughout Britain, with her groggy mind she thinks that they would have looked like normal teenagers had they been elsewhere.

It's a nice thought —being able to merge the two worlds she was a part of— but she knows that it would just be another idealistic dream.

.

Amaris decides its best not to dwell too much on it, inevitably letting out another yawn; one that Pandora seemed to have caught. The brunette covers her mouth as she does so.

Mary ends up complaining when she inevitably catches it. "Stop that. It's contagious."

The Hufflepuff blinks blearily, too exhausted to come up with a response. She only stares at them as if she can barely comprehend what they were saying.

Gideon had been the first to ask, eyeing her suspiciously, "Why do you look so exhausted anyway?"

It takes a while before she musters an answer.

"I didn't get any sleep…" A beat. "I was up 'till dawn with—" Amaris cuts herself off when she recalled their animosity towards the boy.

Mary pried, "With?"

"With my owl, Aquila," the Hufflepuff lies. She's a tad bit more alert as if her little slip-up had woken her up. "I was so excited for our first trip to Hogsmeade. I couldn't sleep so I decided to visit the Owlery."

.

'It's not entirely false,' Amaris defends herself against her sub-conscience. She did visit the Owlery before dropping by the Astronomy Tower.

Besides, she can't help but note how overprotective her friends were around her. It manages to irk her a tad bit, but that was likely more to her lack of sleep than anything.

As vexing as it could be, what manages to gnaw on her more was the question of what could possibly have warranted them to feel such.

Was it just a Gryffindor trait or did she really seem that naive?

Was she that weak for them to decide that she can't handle things alone?

Was she really that much of a—

'Don't pull on that thread,' the Hufflepuff chides herself. 'They care about you. Thinking such would be disrespectful to their efforts.'

But despite her assurances, there's still that uneasy feeling in her gut.

She hates the thought of feeling like a burden.

.

Thankfully, Fabian Prewett manages to divert her attention when he laughs boisterously before mockingly gushing, "Aw, Ames, you're just a little kid stuck in that tiny body, aren't you?"

The oversized sweater that seemed to emphasize her short figure doesn't do anything to support her case. So instead of telling him to sod off like she had with Regulus, she merely rolls her eyes at him, too sleepy to give a comeback. "Or so I've been told."

The three Gryffindors snicker before they erupt into a heated snowball fight, Gideon, throwing the first one, and Mary following him soon after they involve her in the crossfire.

.

As the rambunctious trio became too invested in their little game, Pandora hooks her arm against Amaris', book shoved in her coat's pocket as she pulled her best friend away from the snowball projectiles.

"I'm proud of you, you know…" the Ravenclaw spoke out of the blue, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

Amaris furrows her eyebrows in confusion, "Huh? For what?"

"A little bird tells me that you actually succeeded in your goal of befriending Regulus Black," she whispers.

"What—" Amaris widens her eyes until she realizes the little hint Pandora slipped in.

Wordplay, what a classic Ravenclaw move.

The Hufflepuff lets out a breath, shaking her head, fully aware that she was caught red-handed, "You were at the Owlery."

"I was sending mail to my mother rather early this morning," Pandora confirmed her observation. "Since we didn't cross paths despite your claims of staying up all night, that means you were lounging at the Astronomy Tower again. And knowing you, who's still adamant to follow the rules with the exception of our curfew, you wouldn't stay that long unless something —or someone— was keeping you up."

"Therefore, I can bet twenty galleons that you were there with none other than Black," the Ravenclaw concluded smugly.

Amaris smiles at how well the girl knows her. She doesn't even bother to deny the truth from Pandora. Instead, she averts the subject, reminding the Ravenclaw of her earlier words as she asked, "You really think so? That I got through to him?"

"I know so," her best friend assured her resolutely. "No one would stay with someone all night if they truly hated your guts."

"And besides… Friendship is an unspoken bond. You don't have to go out of your way to declare that you are friends. Eventually, you realize that you just are," she doesn't fail to add. "I'm proud of you, Ames."

"Thank you, Dora." It felt as if words were not enough to express her gratitude, the maiden had also opted to add, "I owe you one."

Pandora grins (mischievously, Amaris was almost certain).

"I'll hold you to that."