ACE OF SWORDS
upright — clarity, breakthrough,
vision, force, focus, truth
reversed — confusion, destruction,
hostility, arguments, miscommunication
DECEMBER 1974
REGULUS BLACK HAD COME to the conclusion that he must have been out of his bloody mind to even be taking part in something as foolish as this.
The boy alongside his fellow third-year Slytherins had been gathered in the library sometime during that late afternoon. His back was leaning against one of the shelves, one hand stuffed in his robe's pocket while the other held a book.
The aforementioned imbeciles had him surrounded, snickering and whispering about things that he could barely care less about.
In the first place, the boy couldn't fathom whether or not they were stupid enough not to read the air. The sour expression plastered on his face should have been adequate enough to express his lack of desire to surround himself with anyone.
They weren't even friends in the first place. These gits had just decided to come waltzing in the library, disrupting his peace and quiet as if he had nothing better to do.
Unlike a particular blue-eyed maiden who happened to make it a habit to 'disrupt' said peace and quiet, Regulus actually meant it this time.
To make matters worse, if they won't shut their damn traps anytime soon, Madam Pince would surely give them a week's worth of detention. Not to mention, they'd be facing an even graver punishment, if any other professor discovered what they were truly up to.
Well, screw them.
He wasn't lounging in the library for nothing, he had a stupid essay to finish. And he was actually rather invested in the topic he was reading about until Evan Rosier had approached him, leaning against the same shelves, avoiding the lot of Slytherins.
The others had dispersed, leaving only four of them behind.
.
"So, who do you think it should be?" Regulus hears the boy ask. A scowl glosses over his features before he shuts the book a tad too loudly, emitting a soft 'thump'.
Even so, he looked unfazed (or rather, completely done with their nonsense), "What are you talking about, Rosier?"
"Ah, you weren't listening, huh?" Evan gives him a knowing look, letting out a snort before motioning towards Avery and Mulciber who were invested in a heated discussion. "The lads were nominating which Mudblood to use as a scapegoat for their attempts to learn the Dark Arts. You know, gaining practical experience and all that."
'Typical,' Regulus thinks, fully aware of how the other two had developed a past-time of terrorizing Muggle-borns this past year.
It hasn't gone too far to permanently wound anyone, but he supposes that with the increasing frequency and the developing gravity of their actions, it'd only be a matter of time until things finally get serious.
This was just a drop in the bucket.
.
"Here's the list," Evan presents a piece of parchment with a variety of names. He manages to recognize some among others. Some of which happened to be crossed out.
Lily Evans
The latter had recalled the way his older brother and his wretched group of friends had been harassing Severus Snape for a while now. The red-haired Mudblood often adamantly defended the Slytherin and yet, she still can't afford the respect she sought.
"They really wanted Evans but Potter and his cronies are a pain in the arse," the boy seemed to have read his mind as Regulus' eyes scanned the page. "And she happens to be infuriatingly skilled at a lot of spells."
Mary MacDonald
Rosier reckoned, "There's also MacDonald from our year."
"Oh yeah, I'd love to give her a piece of my mind," Mulciber had joined in. "Slimy bitch spat at me. Vengeance should be in order."
Dirk Cresswell
Rosier moved on, "Cresswell is one of Slughorn's favorites, so I suppose it wouldn't go well."
They fall further along the end of the parchment, going over each one until—
Amaris Leclair
"There's always that ditz, Leclair," Avery had pointed out. "She doesn't seem as fun to mess with, but imagine the look on those blood traitors' faces. Lestrange and the Prewetts would lose their minds."
Regulus' jaw tightens as he read her name, vividly recalling the way she had introduced herself to him that night in the Astronomy Tower. The memory somehow manages to play in his head at the mere mention of the maiden.
Out of instinct, the boy almost reaches out for his wand. The urge to cast a curse on these wankers only gets stronger when he paints a vivid image of the girl in his mind.
The usual smile on her face is nowhere to be seen, and the light present in her eyes is replaced by a glassy sheen of unshed tears. She'd be injured and hurt, writhing and screaming in pain. She wouldn't be anything like the girl he knew.
It's even worse when he thinks about what she wouldn't do because he honestly can't even picture Amaris fighting back against them.
They'd laugh. Loudly, at that.
They'd be ecstatic at the mere thought of causing a Mudblood such agony. And he won't be able to do anything to stop them because he's supposed to be one of them.
And at that dreadful thought, Regulus' fists had naturally clenched themselves tightly, nails digging into his palm, though they remained hidden in his pockets.
It takes everything in him not to speak through gritted teeth, but regardless, the boy had instructed sternly, "Cross her out."
.
Evan Rosier is left gaping at his words, looking at him incredulously, "Why?"
Don't get him wrong; it wasn't as if he was invested in harming this particular Mudblood. In the first place, Evan Rosier hadn't even been planning to get involved if it weren't for these two knuckleheads.
It was just… The way that Regulus had defended the said filth was outrageous in itself.
He was a Black, for Merlin's sake. Was he actually trying to side with a Mudblood? Sirius had already been bad enough—
Salazar, what would Bellatrix or Narcissa say?
Avery narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he mused, "I reckon you two were certainly getting along during Potions."
That particular statement served as ammunition for Mulciber to taunt. "Aw, is Regulus Black into blonde little Mudbloods?"
"Is it because they're docile?" he continued with a devious smirk. "Let us get a piece of that too, won't you?"
'Scum,' the youngest Black almost spat, but he managed to hold himself back.
Had he been a Gryffindor he could have stood up for her, taught them a lesson or two. He would've gotten his hands dirty, thrown the first punch that would lead him to a month's worth of detention—
But he's a Slytherin.
And saying all that, admitting that he actually cared about her, was just the same as waving a white flag up in the air.
A Slytherin must never reveal his true intentions. Otherwise, they'd use that weakness against him. A Slytherin must take advantage of all the cards held in his hand. They make the most out of everything to each fraction. A Slytherin must know when the time is right. They wait to strike like a predator watching its prey.
So like a Slytherin, Regulus Black goes about it in the most inconspicuous roundabout way.
But he gets what he wants in the end. He'll make sure of that.
No one messes with a Black and gets away with it.
.
Regulus Black was never one for displays of violence, but he gets the job done with just a tad bit of intimidation. He narrows his eyes at the impudent fool. The grey-like color of his irises could be mistaken for a deadly glint of silver, akin to a honed dagger.
If looks could kill, Mulciber would be buried in the ground right then.
The boy seethed, tone even but venomous, "How dare you associate me with that filthy little Mudblood—"
It's been a while since that notorious slur had last escaped his lips. It's beginning to taste awful in his mouth.
.
Evan Rosier is the one who immediately makes a move to stand in between them. He places a hand on his fellow Slytherin's chest as Avery stood beside Mulciber as if they were both aware of what Regulus was capable of.
They were treading dangerous waters.
"Woah. Hold your horses," Evan laughs nervously, turning to the former and then the other two. "They're just messing around, mate. Aren't you?"
"'F c-course. It's all in good fun," Avery stammered, nodding hastily and shrinking behind Mulciber who seemed to be as daft as they came.
Despite forcefully swallowing the lodge in his throat, the other states defiantly, "I'm not fooling around."
Evan eyes him warningly, "Mulciber."
It's a futile attempt on his part.
"Hey, you want serious? I'll give you serious," the Slytherin raised his arms to surrender, but still kept running his mouth. "What's the deal with this Mudblood for you to be getting your knickers in a twist? What, are you a blood traitor in hiding?"
"Say that one more time and I'll make you feel sorry that your mother even gave birth to you," Regulus hissed, finally holding his wand to the boy's neck.
Rosier and Avery take a step back at the gesture in order to save their own skins.
"Then why—"
"I'm telling you to take her off your list because she's my fair game. If someone's going to break her and make her cry for mercy, it's going to be me," Regulus snarled. (It's a complete lie but they didn't need to know that.) "Find your own Mudblood to have your fun with, you blubbering morons."
"Alright, alright," Mulciber had completely given in, no longer finding the boy's threats amusing. "Jeez. You can be even worse than we are."
Salazar, they make him sick.
Bloody hell, the mere implication that he was worse than them doesn't fail to aggravate him— And to think it could have been the case had he not met the maiden a couple of years back.
The unpleasant feeling only grows in his gut.
.
Avery takes the opportunity to try and curry his favor, sighing in relief, "As expected from Golden-Boy Black. Never one to betray expectations unlike your stupid brother, aren't you?"
"Evidently," Regulus scoffed haughtily, sparing them one last warning before he walked away. "Don't forget your place. There won't be a next time."
That, and well… A little pepper breath won't do much harm.
.
Evan Rosier, who had followed him outside the library and noticed the spell he had cast, didn't fail to remark, "You're bloody terrifying sometimes, you know that?"
Regulus deadpanned, "Do you want me to hex you too, Rosier?"
"No, Sir," he laughs but nevertheless complies.
When Rosier shuts up, he finally gets the chance to dwell on his thoughts in silence. Regulus finally becomes aware of the growing reality, and it doesn't fail to make him wary.
Amaris Leclair wasn't doing him any good and yet, she manages to take it up another notch because— Merlin, he had actually attempted to protect her from his fellow housemates. He stood up for a Muggle-born, took her side over his kin's and that meant one thing:
He is a disgrace to the noble House of Black.
A tarnish in their honor just like his pathetic brother… Or perhaps even worse.
The thought causes a shiver to run down his spine. Whether or not Evan Rosier noticed from beside him, he doesn't say a word. Regulus would like to believe he's good enough at hiding his weakness for no one to suspect him.
And so, just like how he does to everyone else, he lies to himself.
'No.'
'You're not like him, Regulus.'
So what if he stood up for a Mudblood?
He's just trying to repay the favor, he insists—
For the pen.
'Yes, that's right.'
That's all there is to it.
He's so adept at lying but even he could tell that that was a ruse.
Fate was truly funny at times. It never goes the way you want it to be —the way you wished it would be— because ironically enough, despite the boy's intentions, the person in question manages to witness a portion of their conversation that can easily be misunderstood by onlookers.
Amaris had been at the library during the same time that afternoon. Pandora had dragged her and Mary in tow, demanding that it was the Gryffindor's turn to compromise after that one time they had dragged her to the damn Quidditch pitch.
"Haven't you read enough books for a lifetime, Dora?" Mary had even gone as far as to complain, but before Amaris gets the chance to chime in, she hears a familiar voice from nearby.
"Was that Regulus?" she peeks through the small gap of the shelves, checking on whether or not he was alone. That way, maybe she could say hi.
Mary crouches down to meet her eye level as she peeked through the same gap, grimacing at the sight of the three other familiar Slytherins. "Ugh, and his complete entourage."
.
Ever so inquisitive, Pandora had joined them sometime after, and Amaris finds herself squeezed between the two girls.
She turns to her left and right, both of which were listening intently to their conversation, and decides that it might not be such a good thing. They were invading someone else's privacy after all.
And so, the Hufflepuff had been the first to initiate, "We should go. Eavesdropping isn't a good habit."
"Oh, hush. You started it," Pandora waves her off, curiosity still not sated.
"And besides," Mary had agreed. "If they didn't want to be heard, they shouldn't be talking in the bloody library."
"Well, I'm going to leave—" the blue-eyed girl huffed, although her attempt to do such was cut short by what her two friends heard.
.
Avery, they had assumed, was prattling on about something about Regulus getting along with someone at Potions.
"Potions?" Pandora whispered, recalling the way Amaris had often told her what went on with her life. "Are they talking about you?"
The Hufflepuff shrugs, confused and still adamant to leave if not for the way her two close friends had linked their arms together, preventing any of her attempts to escape.
Any doubts about whether or not she was the subject of their conversation seemed to be erased when they hear Mulciber's taunts.
"Aw, is Regulus Black into blonde little Mudbloods?"
"Is it because they're docile? Let us get a piece of that too, won't you?"
Mary immediately fumed after hearing their words, "Sick bastards. I'm going to—"
"Shhh," Pandora interrupts her. "Let's listen to what he has to say—"
But then, they hear Regulus' response loud and clear.
"How dare you associate me with that filthy little Mudblood—"
Amaris winces at the tone of his voice.
.
Her breath is caught in her throat, and she had barely even realized when it was that her friends had let go of her arms. They're both standing straight and looking at her in concern.
She felt the pit of her stomach drop because it was different this time.
Compared to all the other times he had called her that notorious slur to her face, it's different hearing it being spat behind her back. And his tone…
Bloody hell, she's never heard so much hatred directed at her.
(He's that good at lying.)
.
Regulus Black had managed to trick even the one person who was often adamant to see his side of the picture. The one person who stood up for him against her own friends, who defended him to even himself.
But in Amaris' defense, pain had always been a reaction difficult to suppress—
And Merlin, did this one hurt.
Nearly years' worth of effort she put into her goal of befriending him had easily gone down the drain, but she can't find it in herself to be mad.
Rage is a rather strong emotion. It's awfully taxing and she knows how simpler things are without it.
So she's not mad.
Tired? A little.
Mortified? Maybe.
Hurt? Definitely.
But angry?
She can't exactly bring herself to hold it against him, and she did promise to lay off him if he tells her and means it— So she does the next best thing:
She builds a wall around herself, keeps her mask intact, and detaches herself from everyone and everything because doing so is the only way Amaris Leclair learned how to deal with loss ever since her childhood.
Though, the same can't be said for her friends.
.
Mary MacDonald is a spitfire. Like Amaris had once told her older sister, the maiden was just as temperamental as she was boisterous. She was always one to wear her heart on her sleeve and stand up for the people she loved. It's why the house of red and gold had suited her so well.
But if Mary was akin to an untamable flame, Pandora Lestrange ought to be regarded as ice-cold water.
She seems calm on the surface, the one capable of toning down the former's rage. But the maiden was just as dangerous if not more. After all, it's much more painful to die a slow death from drowning in a frozen lake than it was from walking into fire, wouldn't you say?
Such was the way it goes for the two maidens.
.
"I'm going to kill him," the Gryffindor had immediately growled after hearing his words.
Pandora had taken it upon herself to be the one who had her shite together, so she holds Mary back by grabbing the girl's robe and slapping a hand over her mouth to prevent her from blowing their cover.
"Let me go, Dora," Mary trashed around in her armlock. "Just let me land one hit on that bugger face—"
"Stop it," Pandora hissed, reminding her of their priorities. "I want to hex him as much as you do but Amaris needs our attention more than that insufferable prat."
"I'm fine," the person herself chimed in weakly. She's a whole lot more unfazed than the two but all the more why it was easier not to hear her words.
There's no hint of contempt or anger. Her voice is even and she seemed perfectly unaffected, causing both Mary and Pandora to worry even more than they ought to.
A small part of her wants to tell that it wasn't the first time it happened just so that they won't make a big deal out of it. But she knows that it would backfire and make their temper flare more than it already had, so instead, she assures them.
"I really am fine," she insists with a tad more force. "Let's just go."
Mary and Pandora both turn to each other before looking at her warily as if they believed she was only putting on a front, "Amaris—"
"Please?" the Hufflepuff interrupts them.
One look into her pleading blue eyes renders them helpless. Her two friends heave a sigh before giving in to her request, "Alright."
REGULUS BLACK DOESN'T SEE AMARIS LECLAIR in the Astronomy Tower for quite a long time— Though perhaps that was putting it too gravely.
If one were to be more specific, it had only been a week and a half since they last met in the tower. Coincidentally (or not), it was also about the same amount of time since that incident at the school's library.
Regardless of what the reason for her sudden absence was, it had been long enough on his terms and those few days had been enough for him to feel oddly unsettled.
It wasn't as if Regulus hadn't seen her at all.
Losing track of Amaris was like watching the sun hide in the clouds… Well, to him that was.
He knows she'd show herself sometime or another; in the first place, finding her in a crowded room had long become a norm. It's a partial reason why he was so damn good at keeping track of the bloody snitch.
It's just… Nothing is the same as it was before and he doesn't like it one bit.
The raven-haired boy had often been adamant to push her away, but he was never prepared for it ever going the other way around. Amaris had become a persistent part of his life and his sudden lack of her company leaves him blindsided.
His denial alongside his need for her presence leads to a war in his mind. It was aggravating enough to keep fighting himself on the fact that she was indeed a Mudblood, but nothing could beat this load of bullshite.
.
It wasn't like Amaris was ignoring him. The girl would never do something outrightly rude, but it wasn't as if she was looking at him either.
When they meet each other in class, spares him passing glances, curt nods, and a few empty words here and there but none of them really left a lasting impression.
It was as if they were living up to their relationship as mere acquaintances. He feels like he lost a place of solace and he can't —for the life of him— figure out what made her act that way.
The first people he suspects were those tossers, Avery and Mulciber.
He wonders if those morons actually went through with their plan regardless of his clear instruction but he doubts it would have been the case. They wouldn't have the audacity to look him in the eye if they had gone against him, and he's heard a couple of passing rumors that Mulciber had been rather invested in picking on a bunch of freshmen instead.
.
Regardless, it doesn't help that he's been seeing her less and less. He hasn't seen her around as often as he had in their classes or hadn't even caught her during mealtimes in the Great Hall. He doubts she'd go through such lengths to avoid him, but whatever it was, something was up— Something he can't quite put his finger on.
A snide voice in his head tells him that it's his fault.
It was the part of him that couldn't help but wonder if Pandora Lestrange was right— that the maiden had finally gotten sick of his dreadful personality; that he had taken for granted the one person who strived to see him for who he was.
But he immediately shakes the thought off, deciding it wasn't going to do either of them any good—
So despite how it was certainly unlike him to do so, for once he decides to face the root of the problem itself.
After all, Amaris had often faced him head-on, it was about time he'd return the gesture. He owed her at least that much.
He just has to find her first.
.
The Slytherin boy had deduced that Pandora Lestrange was the best person to ask about the girl's whereabouts.
First and foremost, he knows better than to ask those insufferable Gryffindors. Mary MacDonald had a fairly good reason to despise his kind, but the Prewetts were unreasonable prats. They couldn't even be left in a room together. So imagine how that would turn out.
Second, even if they were likely the easiest people to manipulate into letting him meet her, he doubts other people such as Xenophilius Lovegood or her Hufflepuff housemates were close enough in comparison to her usual group of friends.
Lastly, from the way they had exchanged a handful of words in regard to Amaris (and the numerous warnings she so kindly provided), he had a good hunch that Pandora had known her the most.
So by process of elimination, the Ravenclaw was the best (er, most tolerable) choice.
It's a slight miscalculation on his part.
.
Pandora Lestrange was at the right place at the wrong time, though she supposes there was never a 'right' time if it was regarding an encounter with Regulus Black.
She had just returned from Hogsmeade, a jar of Sherbert Lemons in her arms as she walked beside Xenophilius, whom she had encountered at the village.
After explaining Amaris' circumstances, he had volunteered to accompany her and they had even made a detour to the greenhouses to grab a couple of Dirigible Plums— For what, she doesn't bother to ask.
She knows better than to question his little oddities at this point, but she does allow him to prattle on about whatever he wants to.
.
Midway through his discussion about Moon Frogs, she hears someone call out to her.
"Lestrange."
Pandora's first instinct was to ignore him completely. He doesn't deserve her attention and she couldn't care less about what he needed.
Then again, the lack of response only seemed to goad him on to call her louder.
"Lestrange!"
She eventually caves due to the anxious expression on Xenophilius' face. The boy had been constantly glancing behind them and turning back to her in confusion.
She knows she'd eventually have to face Regulus, especially considering that she was going up against a Slytherin's persistence—
But then, she thinks, it was perfect, actually.
She can finally get back at him for spouting those awful words because although it goes unsaid, Pandora Lestrange was not only the closest to Amaris Leclair but also the most protective.
.
The Ravenclaw makes use of the opportunity presented to her, turning to Xenophilius to hand over the jar of yellow candies, "Can you hold this for a sec?"
"Alright?" Her housemate furrows his eyebrows, looking skeptical but obliging regardless.
As soon as the jar is off her hands, the maiden whips out her wand, turns her heel, and fires a handful of jinxes at Regulus in an attempt to zap him. Though, much to her chagrin, each one bounces off him as he quickly summons a counter-spell, shielding him from her acts of aggression.
"Tsk," Pandora clicks her tongue in dismay.
Damn him and his bloody quick reflexes.
They're both at a stalemate when he scowls, "What the hell, Lestrange? I just wanted to talk."
"Fine," the Ravenclaw crosses her arms and demands unreasonably, "I'll give you three seconds to speak."
It vexes her when he manages to ask what he wants in less than three, "Where is she?"
The corner of Pandora's eye twitched in irritation. "I'm not telling you that. If Amaris doesn't want to see you, then I'll make sure she won't. You had it coming."
"What—"
"She gave someone like you a chance, Black. And you blew it," the Ravenclaw doesn't even let him finish his question as she spat spitefully, "I'm beginning to think that even I was a fool for letting her go on with it."
Regulus just stands there, wholly unaware about what the fuck she even meant—
He's racking his brains, still unable to find the answer, but the winter holidays are right around the corner, they're all returning home tomorrow and he doesn't want to wait another two weeks before he could talk to Amaris.
Nevertheless, before he is able to get the answers he yearned for, the person he hoped would give it to him had already stomped off with Xenophilius in tow.
Amaris Leclair finds herself alone in the Hogwarts infirmary the day before their return home for Christmas. Only a couple of minutes had passed since Fabian and Gideon had returned to their endeavors (they had been way behind packing and they could only take less than an hour of badgering) and yet she was already thinking of the one person she shouldn't be thinking of.
The Hufflepuff had always been the type to care too strongly about the people she grew attached to.
In this case, she had almost believed that Regulus was different from the rest. She could be true to him compared to everyone else because, as she had once claimed, he wouldn't care and she would have nothing to lose—
Ironically enough, she was partially right to believe that first part but as for the latter, she hadn't taken into account how it would feel to lose him.
Nevertheless, in the same way that Amaris loves people with all her heart, she never lets anyone close enough to hurt her.
She doesn't handle loss quite well, her elder sister had once pointed out, trying to prod her to let her walls down. But to no avail, every time she gains a friend, she takes it upon herself not to be the vulnerable one —not to be the burden— as if they'd cast her away for something as menial as that.
Amaris lends a helping hand to everyone but herself.
Though, just because she's always kept people at arm's length and had prepared to say goodbye, doesn't make it any easier.
She's not going to lie; she misses Regulus. A lot.
Amaris hasn't met him in days.
The holidays she could deal with, but trying to ignore the fact that he was in close proximity throughout the past school days? Not so much.
She supposes it's been the longest she hasn't gone to the tower but it wasn't exactly easy facing him after witnessing what he said.
Thankfully, the universe had seemed to have answered her prayers.
.
It wasn't even her intention to avoid him on purpose per se. She was just stalling… Right, that's all it was.
Her sudden confinement in the hospital wing just managed to work in her favor because evading him these last few days had just become easier.
She just has to get through one more day, and she'll be on the train back home and she wouldn't have to worry about Regulus Black, or his stupid Slytherin cronies, or the way his grey eyes look directly at her when she's talking, or something about how soft his raven hair was when he slept on her shoulder, or how he smelled of wood and musk—
"Amaris, I'm back," Pandora's voice snaps her out of her momentary trance.
"Pandora, hi!" The Hufflepuff immediately sits straight up to greet her, smiling when she realizes that the girl had brought a friend along. "And… Xenophilius. Hey, it's nice of you to visit."
"Sorry I took a while," the Ravenclaw says wryly. "I bumped into him at Honeydukes, he asked if he could come along."
Amaris had immediately assured her, "It's alright but like I've been saying, you didn't have to. Fabian and Gideon kept me company. Mary was here before them. You lot fuss over me too much."
"Ames, you caught a fever that couldn't be cured by magical means, what were we supposed to think?" Pandora deadpanned.
"Speaking of which," Xenophilius had chimed in. "I heard you were ill so I brought Dirigible Plums. They enhance one's ability to accept the extraordinary and I know it's not a cure but I hear small amounts are good for one's health."
"We got them from the greenhouse," the other girl filled in, handing her the jar of lemon drops. "After I got you your favorite candies."
"Thank you," Amaris smiles brightly at the thoughtful gestures (and partially because she knows just how rare it was for Pandora to get along with someone).
"How's your condition?"
"I'm perfectly fine. Madam Pomfrey just wanted me to stay for observation and extra precautions."
Xenophilius had asked next, "Do they know the cause yet?"
"The Headmaster has yet to confirm it since he's out of the office but I have a hunch."
"What is it?"
"Promise me you won't get mad?" Amaris looks sheepishly at the maiden.
Pandora narrows her eyes, "Depends."
"I was working on Divination homework—"
"I told you, you're prone to overworking."
"You're one to talk," the Hufflepuff retorted. "And it's not that."
"Then what is it?" Xenophilius queried calmly observing.
"Remember this?" Amaris raised the Dobbie stone that hung from the cord around her neck. "I had a sudden urge to look into the stone."
The two Ravenclaws look at each other, recalling the discussion they had before.
"You were right about one thing. It felt like I did see another world through it," she tells Lovegood. "I was getting all these hazy visions and my head hurt like hell… But before you ask— no, I don't remember what it was about. The last thing I could recall was my roommates calling for Madam Pomfrey."
This is why her friends are always worried about her; she takes care of everyone but fails to do the same for herself.
.
Pandora takes her by surprise, grabbing the stone and lifting it close enough to peer into it.
"Dora!" Amaris immediately protested and even Xenophilius had almost leaped forward from the sudden action, but the brunette had returned it to her as if it hadn't been such a big deal.
She states simply, "Nothing happened."
"That could have been cursed," Amaris rebuked her, worry written all over her features.
"But it wasn't," Pandora refutes easily.
The other girl narrows her blue eyes, "Haven't you ever heard of the Muggle saying 'curiosity killed the cat'?"
"I heard that Muggles believe a cat has nine lives."
"That's not the case for humans and you know it," Xenophilius mutters despite the fact that it was often him who spouted information about unbelievable things.
"See! Even Xenophilius is on my side."
.
"The point is it's not cursed," Pandora concluded, ignoring their efforts of ganging up on her. "A curse would've hurt you more… And it would have threatened your life."
"So what is it?
"I don't have much to go on," the Ravenclaw opened her hand out, "But if you lend it to me. I'll try to figure it out."
"No. Absolutely not."
"What, you'd rather not know the reason why you're stuck in the infirmary?"
"If it's at the cost of your safety then yes!"
"You can't learn of the unknown without a little risk."
"We don't have to know. Professor Dumbledore will figure it out."
"But he's so cryptic. He'll only tell you what he thinks you ought to know—"
"Maybe that's a good thing!"
"You two—" Xenophilius had attempted to mediate, albeit failing to interrupt.
"Amaris!" the brunette had huffed exasperatedly.
"Pandora!" she responds as equally persistent.
As the two friends end up bickering, the issue with a certain Slytherin is momentarily forgotten. Not that Pandora Lestrange even entertained the thought of telling her that he had been in search of her.
The following day, Amaris returns home like the rest of them without so much as a word to Regulus Black.