Lottie had judged Regulus too harshly during potions class. She had laid in bed that evening, playing the conversation over and over again in her mind. She had assumed he was belittling her—stunned by how she, a muggle-born, could have possibly done as well as him, a pure-blood. She had silently accused him of prejudice against her, and in doing so, she had been the prejudiced one. He hadn't been nasty towards her, or given her weird looks, during the process of making the potion, so why would he suddenly do so afterwards?

In truth, she was scared. Scared by the increase of muggle attacks, and what that meant for her and her fellow muggle-born students. No student had become the victim of actual physical harm yet, though some people expected this could change at any moment. It was no secret that certain fanatics thought muggle-born students had no place at Hogwarts. And even if Regulus Black and his posse were some of the people most likely to be hostile towards anyone who didn't come from a wizarding family, he in particular hadn't actually done anything bad to her.

She had wanted to apologize to him. She had no trouble standing up to people if the situation asked for it, but she couldn't stand knowing she had acted this way to him, when he hadn't done anything to warrant it. Besides, he had seemed friendly enough. Maybe they could be study partners, or simply pair up more often—which was quite honestly the best possible outcome when it came to potion making. No matter how confident she was in her own abilities, having Regulus as a partner only meant that her chances of getting a better grade would increase.

Lottie shifted in her spot on the grass, books and papers scattered around her. Georgia sat a few feet away from her, immersed in her history book. Lottie had no idea how, or more importantly: why, her friend had picked History of Magic as one of her classes. Georgia had told her that she found it interesting, but as much as Lottie tried to imagine the lengthy lectures being anything of the sort, she could simply not see it.

Herbology was much more interesting, but even that couldn't pull Lottie's attention to the homework material. She kept thinking about those dark brown curls, long and elegant fingers, green-gray eyes. Honestly, she was being ridiculous. Never had she ever noticed him before, or any other person in this manner, so why was her mind suddenly swimming with the image of Regulus Black?

She was just feeling guilty, that was all. She felt guilty for snapping at him, so she would apologize and be done with it. Surely she would be able to move on after that.

But when she spotted him in the library on Tuesday, her arms full of heavy books and with all the best intentions to walk up to him and apologize right there and then, she had ruined his homework in stead. And he had not seemed impressed by it.

So she would try again. Maybe the next day. Or the next. Certainly not when he was shirtless, however, but when she had ran into the hospital wing for something completely unrelated, that's exactly what she was faced with. A shirtless Regulus, a look of bewilderment and vulnerability on his face when their eyes met. He had covered himself, and she had quickly looked away, trying to forget the subtle and lean muscles that had been visible. Thankfully Madam Pomfrey had the sensibility to recognize an emergency, and she had an excuse to leave without saying another word to the Slytherin. Now she had two things to apologize for.

She did not plan on apologizing, or even speaking or seeing him at all on Saturday. She was ready to have a fun day of shopping and spending time with her friend, but as luck had failed her this entire week already, so it did when she tripped over her own feet and stumbled into none other than her prior victim, who seemed to be susceptible to being on the receiving end of her clumsiness. What was most invigorating, was that she wasn't a clumsy person at all. The books in the library had been heavy, but as she had gotten closer to the table, they became unbearably hefty and slipped out of her hands. And now, her shoelaces had come undone, which she supposed wasn't that strange—it could have happened to anyone—but it had happened to her, in front of Regulus Black of all people.

She couldn't just idly stand by this time, and had made an attempt at helping him clean himself up at least, no matter how angry he might be with her. And at this point, he was probably livid.

But he hadn't acted it. He had accepted her apology—which hadn't even included a proper apology for her behavior in class. She had expected him to raise her voice at her, or tell her to sod off, or a combination of the two. But she hadn't expected that.

"Lottie!"

Georgia waved a hand in front of Lottie's face, and the brunette snapped out of her thoughts.

"Bloody hell, Lottie, you were off somewhere on the other side of the Pacific," Georgia said, and Lottie wasn't sure if her friend looked amused or worried.

"Sorry, just…thinking about plants," she said as she raised her Herbology book, realizing just how stupid it sounded, but she decided to not elaborate on it further.

"Well, get your head out of the garden and listen to me. Someone has been staring at you."

Lottie frowned slightly and started looking around to see who Georgia was talking about, but the blonde quickly grabbed her arm.

"Stop, don't look around like that, you'll make it completely obvious we're talking about him!" she hissed.

"Talking about who?" Lottie demanded.

"Regulus Black."

Lottie stiffened at her words. Of all people she had hoped Georgia would say, Regulus had to be the very last one. She had made an utter fool of herself over the past week, and she had been even more foolish to hope that he would have forgotten all about her by now. How could he, when she kept messing things up for him. He must loathe her by now and all the misfortune she had bestowed upon him at this point, and surely he was now plotting his revenge on her.

"Does he have his wand out?" Lottie asked in a hushed tone.

"What?" Georgia asked, confused.

"Does he look like he is going to hex me?" Lottie pressed on, more urgently this time.

"No, of course not, what are you talking about? He is just sitting, reading, but not really reading. He hasn't flipped a page in nearly ten minutes and keeps glancing this way."

Okay, that was good. He didn't have his wand out, so there was no imminent reason to believe she was about to be dragged into a duel. But he wasn't reading apparently either, which meant that he was up to something.

"How do you know he is looking at me and not you," Lottie tried carefully. A stupid question. Of course he was looking at her, but only for all the wrong reasons.

"Because he was looking at you, then made eye contact with me, ignored me, and went back to gawking at you," Georgia explained.

Right. She had to do something about this now, before he did take his wand out to hex her.

"I will be right back," Lottie said as she got up, earning a surprised look from Georgia.

"You're going over to talk to him?" she asked incredulously, but Lottie didn't answer her. She spotted the Slytherin under a tree, a book in his hands and his eyes on her. She took a deep breath before she made her way over to him, a twenty seconds worth of walking across the grass field. She had to get it over with and apologize to him, properly now, and put this all behind her. She couldn't have him distract her from her studies any more if she wanted to stay on op of her grades this year. Besides, if they were on good—or at least decent terms—there was a chance they could pair up again for potions, which meant an instant good grade. She couldn't afford to let that opportunity slip either.

She had hoped that on her way over to him, he would have been caught off guard by her direct approach and would look anywhere but at her, but his eyes never wavered. It almost made her stop and turn back around, but she didn't. That would only make her look even stranger than she must already appear to him.

"Hello," Lottie said awkwardly when she came to a halt, a few meters away from the boy. He closed his book and put it down next to him, still peering up at her, his hair partially tucked behind his ear.

"Hello," he returned.

"I…" Lottie started, before trailing off into silence.

Regulus cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I wanted to apologize to you," she said, putting everything into sounding as casual and confident as possible, and to her surprise it worked.

Regulus' brows pulled together in a slight frown before he spoke. "For what?"

"For how I spoke to you during potions. I was kind of mean to you, and you didn't deserve that."

If Regulus felt any emotions regarding her words, he didn't show it.

'Great', Lottie thought, 'he actually hates me.'

It was a coincidence that Regulus picked a spot to read that was this close to Lottie. This was his favorite tree after all, he came here multiple times a week. He liked the quiet, the ambient sounds of the Black Lake in the distance, the leaves rusting in the wind, the sight of his second home on the horizon. But none of those things captured his attention as the brunette had; with her legs crossed and a book in her lap, her hair falling into her eyes every now and then before tucking it behind her ear, her fingers skimming idly over the pages of the book she was reading.

He had half a thought to walk up to her, but knew he would never do such a thing. What was there to say? "Thank you for spilling things on me and my belongings, and walking in on me half naked, now I can't stop thinking about you"? He didn't understand what it was about her that made her thoughts swim with the image of her, so why would she? She would probably get the completely wrong idea and think he was coming on to her, and that was the last thing Regulus wanted to ignite.

When the girl got up and started walking towards him, the blood in his veins seemed to go icy cold. Had she read his mind? Did she know he wanted to talk to her?

No, of course not. No sixth year was able to read another wizard's mind, that kind of magic was far too advanced. Besides, if anyone was rummaging around in his mind, he would surely be aware of it. Maybe she just wanted to talk.

He watched her come to a halt in front of her and waited for her to speak.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello."

She opened her mouth to speak again but stopped herself, and Regulus raised an eyebrow. She had her hands behind her back, her skirt swaying lightly in the wind, her ruffled white socks sticking out against her tanned skin. Lottie lightly twisted one of her feet into the grass, the tip of her shoe digging into the earth, and Regulus dared to wonder if she was nervous.

"I wanted to apologize to you."

'Again?' was the first thing that popped into Regulus' mind. She had already apologized for the previous incidents (although, not exactly for when she walked in on him in the hospital wing, although that didn't really warrant in the first place in his opinion), so what could she still want to apologize for?

"For what?"

"For how I spoke to you during potions. I was kind of mean to you, and you didn't deserve that."

Regulus was speechless for a moment. Apologies, genuine apologies, were scarce in his experience. Sure, if someone bumped into him or otherwise caused an inconvenience, they usually apologized, as did he, out of courtesy. He was raised with good manners, as were many other people around him. But an apology as a result of introspection about an incident in the past, was much more rare. His parents, as stern and proud as they were, never apologized. They were completely justified in everything they did, in their opinion at least. And his brother, Sirius, no matter how foolish or ridiculous his actions, never apologized for being who he was.

Yet Lottie stood before him, offering him her apologies for something that in the end, hadn't even been that significant. She had taken offense to his words and reacted a certain way, and regardless of whether he understood why she had been upset with him, her words had hardly been hurtful. Now she was being genuinely kind to him, and he didn't know how to handle it.

"Thank you," he simply said, momentarily at a loss for more elaborate words. Lottie stared back at him for a few seconds, her lip partially between her teeth, before she dropped her hands to her sides and stood up straight, causing Regulus to sit up a little straighter as well out of reflex.

"So, you are not mad at me?" Lottie asked, void of the previous nervousness in her body language.

No, he wasn't mad. In fact, he hardly felt any emotions anymore regarding the past week. Each incident had been resolved adequately, and even if it had invoked a considerable amount of annoyance in him during each event, it was hardly anything to hold a grudge over.

"It's not that easy to get an emotional rise out of me, Vernier," Regulus said, the side of his mouth ever so slightly curling up. He liked to think he was on top of his emotions, all of the time. They never got the better of him, and something as childish as a few unfortunate run-ins would hardly cause his emotions to take control over his critical thinking. She was just a classmate—quite a smart one at that—who could yet prove to be a reliable partner in potions class, and possibly other subjects as well.

He watched her mouth spread into a smile, those dimples returning to her cheeks, and she looked satisfied with the outcome of their conversation.

"Great! See you in class, then," she said, before turning on her heel and making her way back across the field, as Regulus' eyes followed her journey all the way back to her friend.

"What did he say?" Georgia pressed as soon as Lottie had returned and taken her seat on the thin blanket again.

"Not much," Lottie answered, biting the inside of her cheek. "But I think I managed to smooth things over."

"You mean because of the incidents this week?" Georgia asked. She had been the first person Lottie had told each event about after they happened, although her friend had laughed at the situations rather than see just how humiliating they were.

"I told you it would be fine. He is broody, but he's hardly an asshole. On the few occasions we have spoken, he has always been polite."

"Right…" Lottie said, thinking back on how quickly she had judged him and expected the worst from him. It hadn't been fair whatsoever, and she was determined to not let it happen again. She liked to see the best in people, but the fear of aggression towards muggle-borns had been more prevalent in her than she expected, and she had judged him unjustly because of it.

"Well, it's all in the past now. How's your History of Magic coming along?" Lottie asked then, ready to put the whole subject of Regulus Black out of her mind. As Georgia started talking about the particular subject she was reading up about—clearly having taken Lottie's question as an invitation to start a lengthy monologue—she allowed her friend to flood her thoughts with boring and stuffy information she wouldn't remember the next day.

Things could go back to normal.

The next few weeks were blissfully uneventful. Sunny afternoons in the Hufflepuff dungeon, the common room lively with students, the occasional cat or other companion, the air always fresh with the scent of plants and flowers and earth. Mild summer evenings by the Black Lake, with Georgia, Winnie Lewis and Hestia Taylor, reading books or doing homework.

Lottie hadn't run in to Regulus anymore since their talk under the tree, aside from their shared classes. She had found herself glancing at him every now and then, but on no occasion did she have his attention. Thankfully so, because at least he didn't look like he would be hexing her any time soon. She was fairly certain he had moved on and was not planning any sort of revenge plot against her, which had been a silly idea in the first place.

'It's not that easy to get an emotional rise out of me, Vernier.'

She should have expected as much from the stoic Slytherin, whom she had never actually seen smiling now that she thought about it. Then again, she had never paid much attention to him. Not until recent events, anyway.

She should have been happy, pleased, relaxed under the utterly normal circumstances. It was as if nothing had happened at all—they didn't speak, or bump in to, or even so much as look at each other. At least, he wasn't looking at her whenever she caught a glimpse of him during classes. She had apologized and he had accepted it, which should have been the end of her thoughts of him tormenting her. So why couldn't she get his damned face out of her head?

September had come and gone, making way for October's foggy mornings and chilly afternoons. Thick cloaks were more common among the students now, usually paired with scarves in the Hogwarts house colors.

Being no exception to this, Lottie wrapped herself up in her yellow and lack scarf, before her, Georgia and Winnie set out to go to their first class of the morning: Herbology. The grass was cold and wet, and despite doing her best not to waver from the stepping stones that made a path to the greenhouses, every now and then she was forced to step in the damp sprigs of green.

"Whats with the long face?" Georgia asked her as the three girls arrived at the greenhouse.

"My socks are wet," Lottie complained as she scrunched up her nose slightly. She hated the feeling of wet socks—as did most people, she was sure—and she took her wand from her robes. With a swift motion of her hand, she uttered a quick drying spell, and she welcomed the feeling of the water leaving her shoes, her feet instantly becoming less chilly.

"Better," she said with a satisfied smile as she took her usual spot at the large table in the middle of the greenhouse. They were quite early to class, so she took her time getting out her books and supplies, happily chatting away with Georgia and Winnie about the upcoming Halloween party.

Aside from the usual Halloween dinner on the 31st of October, most of the higher years threw their own parties in the week before—in secret, of course. The sixth year party was planned for the Saturday before Halloween, which was only four days away.

"I should like to go as a vampire," Georgia said as she flipped through her Herbology notes. "They're so interesting and it's a shame both of you dropped History of Magic, we are learning so much about their origins and customs in class right now. Professor Binns really isn't as boring as you think."

"I find them creepy…" Winnie said with a grimace. "Muggles have such a romanticized view of them; there are countless books in which they're described as alluring and sensual."

She was right, Lottie realized. She hadn't read much muggle literature in her life, as she had been only eleven when she was introduced to the magical realm. Bram Stoker's Dracula wasn't exactly a book for for a ten year old. But, she had read that, and a few other well known works, in the years after finding out vampires were actually real, and had also noticed the discrepancies between those works of fiction and the real world. Vampires were not human looking. They were creatures—with unnaturally long bodies and limbs, blueish gray skin and animalistic talons. They hunted and fed and killed. There was nothing romantic about it.

"That's the point, Win," Georgia grinned at her friend. "I want to have the scariest costume at the party."

Lottie let out an amused snort—it was so very much like Georgia to want to stand out in the worst way possible, and she loved her for it.

"I don't think it's even a costumed party, though," Winnie continued thoughtfully. "I'm pretty sure everybody is just going to attend in their regular clothes and drink until they pass out."

"Even better," Georgia said, her grin widening. "Will you go in costume?"

Georgia had shifted her attention to Lottie when asking the question.

"Oh, I don't think so," Lottie said, considering the option. Going in costume meant that she would stand out from everyone else, and by no means did Lottie consider herself a shy person, but she didn't really fancy the idea of drawing attention to herself in such a ridiculous and unnecessary way. She would most likely be laughed at, and where Georgia could easily shake off other people's opinions, Lottie wasn't so resilient. She admired her friend for her individuality and authenticity, and liked to hope that one day, she would care just as little about other people's opinions.

"That's alright, that will only increase my shock value," the blonde mused. The classroom was slowly filling up by now, and a steady hum of soft voices filled the atmosphere. Georgia and Winnie had continued their discussion on vampires: Winnie having grown up in a household with a pure-blood mother and a muggle-born father, and therefor knowledgeable about both perspectives, as opposed to Georgia, who was a pure-blood.

Lottie was absentmindedly listening to her two friends discussing the difference in feeding techniques, when she caught a glimpse of something in the corner of her eye that pulled her attention. Dark brown curls that starkly stood out against pale skin, scowling eyebrows set above gray-green eyes that seemed cooler than the last time she had seen them.

Regulus Black wasn't looking at her, but rather at his friend, Evan Rosier, who was talking to him. He pulled his Herbology book and black leather notebook from his bag as Rosier happily chatted to him. His skin was notably paler than it had been on that September afternoon under the tree, and Lottie wondered if it was because of the absence of warm sunlight, or if the boy was ill in any way. He stood tall next to his friend, his shoulders square and his chin held high—his stately posture no different from normal.

Then, as if he could feel Lottie's eyes on him, he met her gaze. Lottie's stomach flipped, feeling utterly exposed under his gaze, especially since she had already been looking at her, which he must have realized as well. Still, she was unable to break away from his gaze, as if the sheer eye-contact magnetically kept her eyes locked on his.

One thick eyebrow slowly cocked up, his dark expression shifting to one of intrigue, and she finally tore away her gaze when professor Sprout's loud voice called the students to attention. She had never been so happy for class to start.

For the entirety of the class, Lottie made it priority not to look at Regulus—or even so much in his general direction. Judging from his expression, she had already done enough to make herself look like a weirdo by staring, and she didn't need to add onto it by continuing to do so.

Still, those moments he hadn't been looking at her yet, but had been immersed in what he was doing—whether that was listening to his friend or tuning him out, she hadn't been able to tell with the scowl on his face—had felt nice. Whenever she had though of him in the past few weeks, she remembered the way he had looked during potions class and sitting on the grass, but memories could only capture so much detail about a person. She hadn't remembered thew subtle dip in his chin, or the way his nose curved slightly, or the way his dark hair curled around his face in messy waves.

By the end of the hour, Lottie came to the annoying and frustrating conclusion that she had spent more time thinking about her classmate than paying attention to class—one of her favorite classes—and decided that she was now banned from even looking at the Slytherin.

Out of sight, out of mind.

For someone who had set out to make his life worse than an Azkaban sentence, Lottie was surprisingly absent from Regulus' life after she had approached him under the tree. It was a good thing, of course, since whenever they interacted it had always been uncomfortable in some sort of way, but not only because it usually involved spilling liquids.

She had smiled at him, and that too had made him uncomfortable. His mother's smiles held no kindness, affection or love. They were sneers, rather than actual smiles. His brother—well. Anything involving his brother was a sore spot after he ran away from home a year prior. His father never smiled in the first place, so he provided no material to compare it with. His friends smiled, but the cause usually involved some mean joke, clever plan or self-serving intention, none of which evoked any kind of physical or emotional reaction in him.

But Lottie had smiled at him with kindness. She had apologized to him with a sincerity he wasn't used to, and that in combination with the gentle display of friendly affection had somehow wiggled his way inside his brain. It had felt nice, the way she spoke to him.

He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed the longer they didn't speak, but approaching her was not an option, so there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't want to think about how strange and unnatural it would look if he simply went up to her, unprovoked, to talk to her. He could hardly tell her that he just wanted to talk to her because she was kind. And even if he could—how was he going to explain to his friends, the people who were supposed to be the new wave of Death Eaters, that he wanted to talk to a muggle-born classmate. They would assume it was to mess with her, and the natural progression of that was for them to want to join in, and the last thing he wanted to do was put a target on her back. No students had been attacked yet, but he knew that it would only be a matter of time until their parents, and per extension the Dark Lord, would pressure them into proving themselves by bringing the war into Hogwarts.

So, he went about his classes just like he did every year. He focused on his studies and socialized with the right people, and his encounters with Lottie had faded to the back of his mind—a distant and unattainable desire left to never been explored. Until she had looked at him.

Rosier had been talking about some Quidditch match he and his father had attended, using his hands in bold gestures as the raven-haired boy recounted the match's highlights, and Regulus had let him ramble on as he usually did. His near-permanent scowl pulled together a little tighter when the sudden feeling of being watched fell over him. He didn't know why he looked at her first, out of all people, but when he looked up in Lottie's direction, he was surprised to find her staring at him. Clearly she hadn't expected him to notice, because her face flashed with embarrassment—her cheeks quickly turning a rosy shade of pink.

Had she been meaning to get his attention? Surely she wasn't planning on speaking to him in the midst of their whole class, especially from halfway across the large table, but what other reason could she have had to look at him the way she had?

His eyebrow pulled up as he tried to come up with an actual plausible explanation as to why she would want to speak to him, but his thoughts were cut short by professor Sprout's start of the class. The rest of the hour, Lottie seemed completely immersed in the assignment they were given, and each time he glanced in her direction, her attention was anywhere but on him.

His next few classes—Arithmancy and History of Magic—passed by in peace, void of any distractions, but by dinner time, Regulus decided that this morning's events was enough incentive to talk to her. Aside from the already pressing urge to have a conversation with her again, he was curious as to why she had been looking at him.

He had to make sure not to raise any suspicion in his friends, and his best option was to catch her alone somewhere, during the not so busy hours of the day. That was a lot harder said than done, however, because it suddenly became annoyingly noticeable how he was rarely left alone.

Regulus had planned to leave the Slytherin common room earlier than usual that night, before his prefect duty of patrolling the corridors, but Barty Crouch and Evan Rosier had insisted that he stayed and helped them figure out a particularly difficult Charm professor Flitwick had assigned them to practice before their next class.

"Your rounds don't start for another twenty minutes, anyway," Evan had pressed, earing a confirming nod from Barty.

"I have to take care of something before that," Regulus had simply said, not feeling the desire or need to elaborate.

"Oh? Anything interesting?" Barty inquired.

"Hardly," Regulus shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm working on a potions essay and I need to ask Slughorn some questions."

"Can't you do that tomorrow? I still haven't managed to make this spell work, and Flitwick wants us to demonstrate in class tomorrow."

Regulus's jaw clenched slightly, but he knew he wouldn't live it down if he abandoned his friend in his time of need.

"Fine," he conceded, "Let's get this over with."

By the end of the twenty minutes, Barty still wasn't able to perform the spell successfully, but he had gotten closer to the desired result. His friends didn't protest this time when he made to leave, knowing he couldn't skip his responsibilities as a prefect.

The Slytherin common room was on the opposite side of the dungeons to the Hufflepuff common room, and his patrol route didn't require him to pass by the latter, but he took the liberty to do it anyway. With a little bit of luck he would run into Lottie, and he could explain away his presence by the sheer fact that he was a prefect. It was a good enough alibi, and it would provide an in to ask about that morning.

But Lottie wasn't outside the Hufflepuff common room. In fact, nobody was—which he should have expected—since curfew had passed and students were supposed to be in their dorms by now. He knew the chance had been slim, but it had been worth the try anyway.

Regulus completed his patrol without any events—not a single student in sight for the full two hours he spent roaming the dark halls of the castle. The only people he ran in to were professor McGonagall, whom he greeted with a polite nod, and a Ravenclaw prefect who was also patrolling, whom he didn't bother greeting at all.

On his way back to the Slytherin common room, he didn't bother taking a detour past the entrance to the Hufflepuff dungeon. Lottie was probably asleep by now, and Hufflepuffs weren't exactly known for their tendency to sneak around after hours in the first place, so the chance to run into her now were so slim that it wasn't worth the effort.

He did, however, turn down a corridor towards the kitchens. It had become a habit to visit the House-Elves every now and then after his patrols. He had always been fond of the Black family House-Elf, Kreacher, especially after Sirius had left the house, and he had found that his freedom as a prefect allowed him to visit the kitchens late at night to make conversation with the Elves that worked there. They had taken a liking to him and often offered him snacks, which he happily received. It was, in a way, a happy and comfortable change in companionship compared to his Slytherin classmates.

He couldn't decide whether he would ask for a piece of treacle tart or chocolate cake as he descended the stairs to the Hufflepuff dungeon, which was also host to the entrance to the kitchen. When he stepped into the hall leading up to the Hufflepuff common room, he approached the large painting of a fruit bowl that was located to his left. He was about to reach out to the pair depicted on it—which would reveal a door handle—when the portrait swung open and Regulus had to jump back not to get smacked in the face by it.

"Oh!" someone gasped, clearly not having expected anyone to stand just outside the entrance, and it took a second for Regulus to realize who he was looking at.

He couldn't believe his luck.

"Vernier."