TEN OF CUPS
upright — happiness, homecomings,
fulfillment, emotional stability, security
reversed — unhappy home, separation,
domestic conflict, disharmony, isolation
JUNE 1975
COMPARED TO WHEN he was merely watching her from afar, Regulus Black had learned a couple more things about the Hufflepuff maiden during the last few months of their third year.
He learns why her friends were always trying to protect her.
It was their way of returning the favor because as it turns out, Amaris Leclair had been doing the real protecting just as she had unknowingly done with him.
She accepts people for the way they are, strengths and flaws all included.
For instance, Amaris wholeheartedly believes in the words of a madman like Lovegood. Additionally, the Hufflepuff always manages to hold back the rambunctious Gryffindor trio, making up for their weaknesses with her ability to listen and assess situations carefully. Best of all, she gives Regulus Black a sense of belonging in the same way that she had arbitrarily chosen to become best friends with the young witch of the infamous Lestrange family.
The people around her were drawn toward her even if she was the type to hide in the back of the room and simply watch from afar. It was precisely because she observes them carefully that she learns how she can possibly help them.
.
Friendship entailed an extreme amount of loyalty from the maiden. In fact, calling it 'friendship' was a terrible understatement. The way she put them on a pedestal was more akin to devotion.
They're more than just friends, they're her people.
Likewise, he learned that being her friend meant having her care for him, the pure-blood bigot who used to cast her away because of her status. It was a chance at redemption and it's more than he could ever ask for.
But beyond that, he also notices how perhaps Amaris wasn't so different from him. Perhaps she was just as desperate for someone's company as he was— just as lonely as he was.
Albeit the girl clearly wasn't as foolish as Regulus Black who'd push everyone else away to build a wall around him; Amaris opted to keep her people close to her.
He supposes that it might have been the reason she asks for such a thing the night before they return home for the holidays.
.
"Can I write to you this summer?" Amaris Leclair brought up out of the blue when they met up in the Astronomy Tower.
She doesn't dare to look at him when she dropped the question, nervously playing with the hem of her sleeves as if fearing rejection despite being fully aware of the likeliness of such.
As she had already anticipated, Regulus doesn't spare a beat in giving her a resounding "No."
It comes out too quickly for him to filter his tone. Even he cringes at how crass it sounded but before he was able to take his words back, the girl looked back at him, shoulders slumping in disappointment.
"It's not that— I…" he heaves a sigh, trying to explain the situation articulately, always failing to do so when he's around her. "I'll send letters to you just don't owl me back."
The girl tilts her head curiously, azure eyes peering back at him, "Why is that?"
"My parents… Out of everybody, they absolutely cannot find out about us."
"Ah, right," Amaris recalled. "Blood purists, aren't they?"
Regulus winces and wonders if she was regretting her decision, having more cons than pros to their so-called friendship or whatever the hell this unorthodox relationship was.
To his surprise, instead of expressing any complaints she merely gives him a nod of understanding.
'Hufflepuffs,' the boy almost scoffs in derision, realizing that Amaris doesn't seem to hold any sort of animosity despite the prejudice involved in their backgrounds.
.
"You don't have to tell me but…" she trailed on to ask, "What are they like?"
Catching her expectant sapphire eyes, Regulus lets out another sigh before he begins, "Well, there's my father… Terrifying when you cross him, but you barely even realize that he's there for the most part. He's dignified, always presenting himself with pride like your typical pure-blood."
"My mother, on the other hand, is…" he trailed on.
"Lovely?" Amaris attempts to help him finish his sentence.
"I was actually going to go for 'shrill,'" he snorts. "I know she cares about us. It's just… She can be a tad too much, you can say."
Regulus knows it was an understatement but he can't find it in him to explain any more than that.
Amaris doesn't need to know what goes on under their house and besides, it wasn't as if he was completely lying… He was just withholding a great deal of the truth; a classic Slytherin move.
And yet, with the way she was watching him with those bright cerulean eyes, a part of him wonders if she knows more than she made it seem.
.
Eventually, he ends up continuing, "She was the one who taught me everything they claimed I would need to know about…" The boy tried to find the right words, eventually settling for, "Your kind."
There's no hint of anger on her expression as she continued to pry, "Like what?"
"All types of rubbish…" Regulus laughs humorlessly, despite the fact that he had only accepted the truth recently. "How Muggle-borns and Muggles are the lowest of the low. Their blood is so filthy that mere contact with them would corrupt our magical cores—"
Amaris doesn't make a peep, listening to him intently, observing the changes on his face, like the way his eye twitches in irritation or the way his jaw tightens.
"I wasn't old enough to know better. My mother spoke of it as if it were the gospel and my father made sure we wouldn't dare to believe in anything other than that pure-blood snobbish nonsense…" he admits. "But then you came around, and like you said, it's a learned trait."
The Hufflepuff smiles, recognizing how far they've come. Just a year ago, Amaris doubts she would have heard such a thing come out of this pompous boy's mouth.
"But what about your relationship with them?"
"It's alright… They definitely get along better with me than my brother," Regulus responds, leaving out the details of the blatant favoritism of their parents.
.
The maiden ends up bringing up the last question he wants to hear when she asks, "What about you and your brother?"
This time, on the other hand, the Slytherin doesn't waste a second as he spat—
"He's a prat."
A scowl glosses over his features and there's a small flicker of pain present in his eyes that causes her to frown slightly. The mere mention of his brother often led to the greatest gaps in his well-kept composure.
The sudden change in his cool demeanor causes her to wonder about the history between them, but instead of prying too deep, she merely points out her observations, "I doubt you actually mean that."
Regulus' eyebrows are knitted together as he narrowed his eyes at her, "How sure are you?"
"Because even if you think otherwise, you actually speak rather fondly of him."
"He's incorrigible. Have you seen those juvenile hexes he casts alongside those three other insufferable Gryffindors? He's a disgrace to the House of Black. If anything, I loathe—"
"I don't think you do," Amaris talks over him, nonchalantly musing out loud. "It's always easier to hold a grudge than to admit that you're hurt."
The way he had rambled on rather heatedly only seemed to support her point but he refuses to admit how profound those words were.
"So what are you implying?" Regulus speaks through gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes at her as if he was daring her to go on.
Unfazed by the anger in his tone or his stony gaze, she states rather bluntly, "I think you miss him."
Regulus scowls, choosing to retaliate with his snide words instead of admitting the truth, "What would you know—"
.
"I used to hold a grudge against my older sister too, you know," Amaris cuts him off for the second time before he even begins to raise his voice. Her sudden confession seemed to hold his irritation back.
He's still tense but he asks carefully as if he doubted her words, "You?"
"Yes, me," she chuckles softly, stating rather simply, "I get angry, we're all human after all."
"Why?"
"Well, when I was eight years old, our mother passed away and we became orphans…" the blue-eyed girl trailed on without any hint of emotion on her face. She spoke so calmly that it almost seemed like she wasn't talking about herself.
Her sudden revelation renders him completely silent but she takes it as a cue to continue, "My sister was older by a decade… I wasn't of legal age when it happened and in the Muggle world, that meant that I had to go to an orphanage—"
"Oh, um…" she side-tracks, noticing the confusion on his face. "Orphanages are institutions where children are taken care of until someone who wants to be a parent comes along and adopts us—"
"Adopt you? Like how they sell owls and cats?" He makes a face at the notion. "Muggles are barbaric."
"It's not barbaric."
"Yeah, right," He retorts, "What happens when no one picks you? You're stuck there 'till you die? How's it any different from prison?"
"You only stay there until you come of age and face the real world."
The boy scoffs, "How's that any better than sending a creature to fend for themselves in the wild?"
"It's really not as bad as you think. Places like those actually give you a chance to find a home," she muses. "You don't have anything like that here?"
"Well, not only do wizards and witches live longer than you barbaric Muggles, our population is a lot smaller. The Ministry usually handles such cases but if ever it does happen, it's done discreetly since blood prejudice continues to prevail," Regulus explained. "Pitiful circumstances or not, pure-bloods aren't just going to take some kid in without knowing their blood status. You only do so unless you're a family relative, their godparent, or have some kind of intimate familial relationship."
"I'm sure there are wizards and witches that end up in Muggle orphanages," Amaris volleyed. "And surely some half-bloods and Muggle-borns aren't against adopting children whether they're magical or not."
"Perhaps, but that doesn't change how the Wizarding World sees it," he nods before averting the subject. "Anyway, you were saying?"
.
"Well… as I was saying, I was a kid," she continued. "I didn't know better and I didn't have anyone to lean on nor did I ever get along with the other children… I felt abandoned and the pain I held against my sister turned into a bit of a grudge."
As she spoke, she chose to gaze back at the moon instead of looking him in the eye, her face still devoid of any dejected emotions.
Had she not been a Hufflepuff, he could've sworn she was lying with how lightly she put it. And it's because of that that her tenacity doesn't fail to amaze him.
But then she says—
"It's easy to feel hurt when you're lonely. Those thoughts just keep picking your brain. You get too caught up in what you believe in that you fail to see the truth. And because you refuse to admit it, you mistake it for other emotions and shift the blame on someone else."
—And he could've sworn there was a flicker of sadness present in her eyes despite her gentle smile.
Right then, Regulus Black realizes that it wasn't as if she can't feel per se. She merely suppressed it inside her in the same way he often would.
Behind every smile was an untold story of pain.
.
It takes a while before Regulus eventually breaks the silence that had engulfed them, asking the lightest question that came to mind in fear that he was walking on thin ice, "Do your friends know of your circumstances?"
Amaris shrugs nonchalantly, "They don't know the full extent of things, but Pandora and Mary are aware that I only have my sister around… And well, I also have a brother-in-law so I suppose my family is growing in size."
"You…" he tries to find the words, coming up with almost nothing. Of all people, Amaris Leclair never failed to ruin his articulate and eloquent demeanor.
And before he even gets the chance to ask more about it, she continues, "It's alright now. She came back for me. All that time she was trying to find a way to become my guardian. She's godsent if anything… And whatever happens, she's still family."
He never even gets the chance to comfort her because Amaris seemed to have perfectly picked herself up, her optimistic demeanor never faltering one bit— But he knows how misleading 'perfection' may seem.
.
Despite his epiphany, the girl only continued, "Thanks to that, I realized we never really know what anyone is thinking for us to jump to our own conclusions, you know?"
A small smile returns to her face as she suggests, "That's why I think you should give your brother a chance. There's more than one side to every story."
"I'll…" he heaves an exasperated sigh, giving in to her suggestion. "I'll give it a shot."
In truth, he merely says it to placate her, but somehow he ends up keeping his word.
.
.
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JULY 1975
AMARIS HAD NEVER FELT SO HAPPY to receive a mere letter that she almost felt like a child opening gifts on Christmas morning. The maiden had been waiting for days, always getting up bright and early to anticipate any mail. And when it finally does arrive, she immediately catches the envelope the owl drops as it flies through the window.
Aurora Alcott (née Leclair), having caught the sight of her sister all the way from the kitchen while cleaning up their breakfast, asks out of curiosity, "You're awfully enthusiastic… Who's it from?"
"Regulus Black—"
The woman almost drops the plate she's been drying, dishcloth held tightly in her hand as she sputtered in disbelief, "You-You got yourself a boyfriend?"
"No!" Amaris turns five different shades of crimson at her sister's assumption. She's barely able to let out a coherent sentence due to her bashful reaction, "Wha— Rory, why would you— I'm fourteen!"
"Amy, love, fourteen isn't as young as you think," the older Leclair raises an eyebrow, "Besides, why else would you be smiling so much?"
"Because—" Amaris cuts herself off, heaving a deep breath in an attempt to shake off her embarrassment. "Remember the arrogant bloke I told you about last summer? The one I've been trying to befriend—"
"Amy, I say this with all the love I can muster, no one is that happy to receive a letter from someone who's just a friend."
"That's because I tried so hard to be his friend," she defends. "It's natural to swell in pride for your efforts to be acknowledged."
"Riiight," her older sister drawled dryly, clearly unconvinced. "Whatever you say, sis."
"We're just friends."
Aurora wants to state the obvious truth —that the young witch doesn't smile as brightly when receiving letters from her other friends who had clearly been close to her for much longer— but instead, the woman refrains, merely smiling at her sister.
"Just don't forget to tell me when you actually do fancy someone, alright? I want to meet the bloke who'll manage to win my adorable little sister over."
"Rory!"
"You never know!"
.
.
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Here onwards are a collection of letters sent via owl post throughout the span of July 1975, written by Regulus Black and addressed to Amaris Leclair.
[ July 4, 1975 ]
A. Leclair,
Other than keeping my word to write to you over the summer, I'm proud to inform you that I did as you advised; I've been trying not to —in your terms— "be an arse to my brother."
Putting aside how infuriating he still is, I believe it's actually going well as you have often insisted.
It's hard to act completely civil to a prat like him, but knowing you, the fact that I am actually putting effort should be enough to satiate you, no?
I'd expect something to reward such good behavior. You know I don't do these things for free. (Candy won't cut it out this time.)
R. A. B.
*** Just in case, don't forget what I told you before the break: don't owl me back. I'll see you after the summer holidays.
[ July 8, 1975 ]
A. Leclair,
Sirius and I have been talking a lot more lately. He's usually out with his mates (that infuriating lot of Gryffindors) but when does he come home, I've made it a routine to ask him about his day.
The bloody bastard is still as insufferable as always… (I mean, he had the audacity to continuously turn anything into an argument as if I was the one attacking him. I was already going out of my way to warn him, and what do I get in return?)
But anyhow, it turns out that he's been suspicious of my intentions as if I were some kind of espionage for my parents. Although, in the last few days or so, he seems less suspicious of my intentions.
We're not as close as we used to be. I doubt that we ever will be, but it's better than before.
I think your unbearable persistence and baseless optimism are slightly rubbing off on me. Truth to be told, I can't fathom how you do it.
R. A. B.
[ July 16, 1975 ]
A. Leclair,
My brother told me about this Muggle contraption you call a 'motorcycle.' He has a dozen posters of them on his walls. After explaining what this odd machine does, he ended up rambling about other vehicles and how they're not all the same, and to be completely candid, it still continues to confound me.
I can't tell if it's simply because he's the one doing the explaining or whether or not his facts are accurate, but either way, I'd appreciate it if you'd help me out. I'd love to see the look on his face when the tables have turned. After all, what better source of information on Muggles than a Muggle-born witch?
Also, in regard to this transportation you call an 'aeroplane,' may I just ask, how can a piece of metal float in the sky without any form of magic or any sort of creature dragging it in mid-air? Do the wings flap like that of a dragon or a bird? I fail to understand the logic behind it.
That said, I can't believe you find Quidditch dangerous despite all these contraptions found in your world.
R. A. B.
[ July 24, 1975 ]
A. Leclair,
Aunt Druella is hosting a garden party at their manor. Narcissa, my older cousin, wouldn't stop rambling to me about the decorations and the bloody flowers despite how I couldn't care less.
I know it also serves as her engagement matinee with that aggravating-too-cocky-for-his-own-good Malfoy heir but I swear to Circe, if she insists on choosing my own outfit for me, I'd burn her precious flowers down.
In case your dear friend Lestrange hasn't completely explained pure-blood culture in detail, these parties are annual events in which eligible families showcase their children and wealth.
It's a lot more casual than winter balls. Christmas and New Year's take it up another notch so I guess I ought to be relieved by that, but I have to admit that it is still stifling to dress in formal robes under the blazing sun. Cooling charms are useless if the sun is blinding. It's even more infuriating when you're forced to mingle with said people.
Sometimes they conduct such parties in order to strengthen relationships with the families they're marrying into but overall, it's a rather intimate event. In fact, you've probably heard but Lestrange's eldest brother is married to my cousin, Bella.
Due to such, I'd like to take back my words and ask for Lestrange's spell to feign illness. If you don't mind that is. I honestly doubt I'd go through with it (family duty and all) but it would be nice to keep in handy.
R. A. B.
[ July 29, 1975 ]
A. Leclair,
Sirius and I managed to sneak out from the blasted reception (but I obviously had the decency to return after a while). Someone made a scene and it was the perfect distraction to give us time to scamper off.
They brought up my cousin Andromeda, the infamous blood traitor of the family who eloped with a Muggle-born, and the adults went utterly ballistic. A couple of threats and curses were even thrown around. It was messy albeit a tad bit amusing.
I haven't gotten the chance to speak about it, but Andromeda's the most tolerable among my three cousins I suppose. Bella, their eldest, has a bit of a temper (I honestly think it's hereditary on my mother's side of the family). Cissa, the youngest of the three, is who I'm closest to, but she can be as pretentious as we pure-bloods typically are. Dromeda, on the other hand, is… Quiet.
She doesn't stand out much, I reckon she's done it on purpose. Only a fool would blatantly admit how they stand against our society's beliefs.
Shame, we never got along as well as she did with Sirius. Then again, I can see why. I am guilty of having claimed that she was foolish to have thrown our traditions away, but could you blame me for believing that her husband wasn't worth enough to throw our entire family away?
Mother and the rest of the elders won't admit to what happened to her. Then again, the family's always been a mess. My parents would lose their sanity if they ever hear me say that, but it is what it is. So much for being a pure-blood, huh?
I honestly hope she's doing well.
Knowing you, you'd probably get along with her, don't you think?
Even if you don't, I'm pretty confident that you would have been able to win her over. She is undoubtedly kinder than I am after all. Sad to say, the rest of the House of Black likely isn't as enlightened.
R. A. B.
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AUGUST 1975
AMARIS LECLAIR FINDS HERSELF smiling after every letter she receives from Regulus Black. In her defense, it wasn't exactly easy trying not to. Like she had told her older sister, it was a natural reaction from all the time and effort spent trying to befriend him.
What makes her even more ecstatic was the fact that he was willingly sharing about his life before she even pried— Something she would have never expected from someone as closed off as the youngest Black.
She's aware that it could have been jibber-jabber. He was writing one-sided letters, fully aware that he wasn't going to receive a reply to any of them, so he basks in the opportunity and makes the most out of the way that someone would be listening.
Though, unlike Pandora, Gideon, and Fabian, who often spoke about what it was like being part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, Regulus doesn't leave out the bad.
Now, while the Slytherin wasn't completely candid or transparent (she doubts the likelihood of such), it was rather pleasant to learn more about him. It was a glimpse of his world, an evident reminder of how different they truly were.
Nevertheless, it was better to be kept in the know than to remain oblivious and have him let her run her mouth on all that hypocrisy— Because how would she preach against prejudice if she wasn't made aware of what remained on the other side of the picture?
.
There's a certain warmth that spreads in her chest when she recognizes the way he was trying so hard to appreciate her world because even if they were a tad bit closer now, some of his ideologies still remained the same. She hadn't missed the way his nose scrunches up in derision of Muggles and Muggle things, and she couldn't blame him for that. All the years and all those unreasonable claims against her kind would be hard to shake off.
But that's the thing.
For what it's worth, he was actually trying.
So, she yearned to return the favor.
Now, she wasn't completely naive, she knows better than to send him mail when he had made it clear enough for her not to do so. She'd rather not cross him, having been ambiguously made aware of the repercussions they'd both face. Hers she can bear with, but she'd rather not bring trouble into his life.
It was never her intention to begin with and she's pretty sure that doing so would only refute the reason why she wanted him to gain compassion for Muggles and Muggle-borns in the first place.
But (as usual, her optimism continues to prevail) that doesn't stop the girl from picking up a piece of parchment.
She finds one of those lined sheets of paper from one of her drawers, picking up a black ballpoint pen.
Deciding that she can't take receiving one-sided letters, she writes her own, collecting her response to each of his. She folds them, slips them into envelopes, seals them, and scribbles the Leo constellation instead of writing an address.
She keeps them stored neatly in a paper box to give him when they return to Hogwarts, anticipating the next few letters he'd be sending her in the following weeks.
.
.
.
Here onwards are a collection of letters sent via owl post throughout the span of August 1975, written by Regulus Black and addressed to Amaris Leclair.
[ August 5, 1975 ]
A. Leclair,
I am positively dying of boredom. Unlike how it is in your world, etiquette is rather important in our society. It's not as amusing when the people I'm often surrounded with lack your clumsy antics.
In an attempt to placate my parents, I've chosen to spend most of my time at home whilst my brother is parading around town, claiming to have been shagging random Muggles around town.
Notice how I wrote 'claim.' In truth, he never goes through with it. He's actually loyal to his fiancée despite what everyone else had claimed. This ruse was merely his own attempt to rise against our parents since she happens to be a girl of their choosing; the one time they did him good.
I reckon his knack for seeking trouble would result in another dispute between him and our folks, so I've resigned myself to our library, trying to learn a couple of new spells in advance.
I found a book on Divination you might be interested in (though I still can't comprehend why you're fond of such nonsense). There are also a couple of other books that might help you understand Arithmancy. I'll bring them over to Hogwarts for you to use but I'd have to disable the curses on some of these grimoires first.
I also came across an interesting book about magical sacrifices. And before you start fretting, calling it a 'sacrifice' would be a stretch.
The book refers to a form of ancient magic that makes use of other mediums like blood, hair, tears, and the like in order to customize spells. It allows better control, minimizing scope whilst increasing range and strengthening the effects of the (in this case) curse. As they say, an eye for an eye.
People misunderstand this and categorize forgotten magic as part of the Dark Arts. Although, that is merely a misleading epithet wouldn't you say?
Then again, you're never one to judge. I remember that rather heated rant about the way your dear mates called us Death Eaters. (I'll have you know, it was amusing seeing you so infuriated over something so trivial.)
R. A. B.
[ August 13, 1975 ]
A. Leclair,
A childhood friend of ours came to visit. She also happens to be Sirius' fiancée whom I wrote to you about. She agreed to assist me with my research and even helped out in reversing the curses of bewitched books and finding loopholes to deactivate some runes.
We ended up reading about Blood Maledictus and other Hemomancy related curses. One of which is the usage of voodoo dolls.
It's not particularly like the Imperius curse; there's a reason why that's one of the unforgivable three. This allows for more flexibility other than making use of them as a way to harm or transfer pain.
She agreed that it was an interesting concept. Sirius looked at us as if we were mental, and yet he's the one with the knack of picking on other students. The hypocrisy of this git is unbelievable.
R. A. B.
[ August 22, 1975 ]
A. Leclair,
I believe this might be my last letter for this summer. Maybe I'll see you in Diagon Alley, though I suppose that we won't be able to converse either way. Sad to say, my mother would lose her mind if she catches me with a Muggle-born.
I'm aware that I've only opened my mind to it not too recently, but let her behavior be a testament to the bigotted pure-blood mentality instead of taking it personally.
Then again, I know you better than that by now. I suppose you're not likely to be bothered by such, especially considering the fact that you went as far as to befriend not one but four pure-bloods (not that the Prewetts are anything to brag about). If you have a death wish, I'd like you to inform me in advance to give me time to create an alibi before your so-called friends accuse me of your murder.
I'll see you in school.
R. A. B.
[ August 30, 1975 ]
》Ripped from the back page of a new notebook and discretely dropped into Amaris Leclair's cauldron at Flourish and Blotts, Diagon Alley:
Meet me in the tower on September 1st?
R. A. B.
[ September 1, 1975 ]
》Slipped into Regulus Black's pocket after the arrival of the Hogwarts Express:
Wait for me after the feast. I got you something.
A.