tw: implied/ referenced ptsd, mentioned suicide, trauma, and similar themes. please proceed with reader discretion.
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FIVE OF CUPS
upright — loss, grief, disappointment,
sadness, mourning, discontent
reversed — acceptance, moving on,
finding peace, seeing positives
MARCH 1976
"PLANTS NEED DELICATE TENDING TO," her maternal grandfather had told her, the same way children were taught not to litter garbage, the same way people were discouraged to cut down trees, the same way one had learned to be respectful and kind.
The old Sycamore tree in their old home stood tall just behind her as the eight-year-old sat on the ground, playing with blades of the grass and picking on weeds; altogether, merely appreciating the waft of the late spring breeze beside one of her favorite people. That said person was sitting on the bench of their back garden and yet, he was watching her so carefully that it felt as if they were seated beside each other.
"They're like people, dearest," the old man had chuckled albeit sounding more rueful than bemused. "You may not be able to hear what they think, you might not be able to see their pain, but that doesn't mean that it isn't there."
The young girl looks up to meet her grandfather's similar blue eyes, those which she had inherited, tilting her head in confusion as she asked, "But if people are like plants how would I know if they're hurting, Pépère?"
"There's not much you can do but wait, my dear... And when they are indeed hurting, you stay by their side, be there for them when they need you because they're human— They make mistakes as you do, hurt as you do, love as you do," he tells her ominously. "The first step is watching them close enough to see, to know— But looks are just as deceiving so you must know first find what to look for… Just as you should with your Maman."
The amount of thought she had to exercise in order to comprehend his deep words cause the crease between her eyebrows to get deeper.
.
"Mum is hurting? But Mum is the strongest person I know," she eventually states as if it were a fact. The woman had raised two young girls alone after all. The younger Amaris can't even imagine her mother to be anything else other than a superwoman.
"That she is, but looks are extremely deceiving, my dear," her grandfather placed a hand on her head gently as he asked, "That's why… When I'm gone, can you promise to look after her like she does with you and your sister?"
The young girl's eyebrows knit together even further, unable to comprehend the deeper meaning behind his words. She doesn't know which detail to prioritize first.
"Where are you going, Pépère?"
"A simpler place perhaps."
"It's the hospital again, isn't it?" she stands, bombarding him with questions. "Are you leaving with Rory? Will I be alone now?"
The old man holds her close and prompts her to sit on his lap as he assured her, "No, darling. I will never take your sister away from you like that."
"But why do you have to go? When do you have to leave?"
"I suppose that's not for me to say. The time will come, my dear."
"Will you write to me? Please? Can you promise that?"
"I can't assure the certainty in that, but I will surely watch over you three," He presses a kiss against her forehead endearingly. "So be good to your mother and sister, alright?"
"Yes, Pépère," she smiles, oblivious to what was to come— to the gruesome series of misfortune events that would befall her.
She smiles because she believes in her grandfather's wisdom.
She smiles, unaware that it would be the last time in a long while.
WHEN AMARIS LECLAIR RECEIVES the annual two letters that she often dreaded reading during this time of the season, her throat immediately closes up. Aquila, her owl, tilts his head, eyes wide and observant as if he knew exactly what was running through her head. It's only when she mutters a quick "thanks," providing it a treat before he finally makes his way back to the owlery.
The people around her were still talking jovially with various degrees of excitement from receiving their own mail, and yet Amaris feels sick to her stomach. The walls of the Great Hall felt like they were closing in, and despite the volume of people's chatter, she felt as if she was watching a film on mute.
So instead of opening the envelopes she received, she merely slips them under her plate and picks on her meal, hoping to regain a sense of normalcy as she forces a smile every now and then whenever her friends had something to say.
She knows full well that she wouldn't be able to stomach her breakfast had she done otherwise, but then, among all six of them, Mary MacDonald had been the one who pointed out.
"You're not going to open your mail, Ames?" she asks, oblivious to the way that the Hufflepuff had stiffened at the question. The girl, much like many Gryffindors, barely had any cell of discretion within her, and that trait, in turn, is what catches a certain Ravenclaw's attention.
'Maybe later,' Amaris opted to lie, but with how Pandora was staring intently at her instead of her book, the Hufflepuff knew better than to do so. Even if Pandora had the decency not to broadcast her concerns, she would have easily found it suspicious and that would put an end to her whole charade.
So Amaris does open it.
Begrudgingly slowly, at least— As if in doing so, she'd be able to prolong the delay of the inevitable agony.
But as soon as the letter is finally open, she barely even reads it, watching the words jumble and twist and turn as she quickly skimmed through each line.
.
The first paragraph is full of niceties, the usual family news, and questions her sister often writes to her about. It was rather lengthy for a weekly routine. Her sister had never been curt when it comes to her letters; not that Amaris ever complained about it, she appreciated the older woman's enthusiasm to keep in touch. On any other day, she'd be ecstatic but then, there it was…
The part she dreaded the most: the typical paragraph written especially on this god-awful day.
Amy, I know you don't like talking about it, but I took a trip to their graves to celebrate their death anniversary. You don't have to go until you're ready. I've told you that and I mean it, but… I also know that they would've wanted you there, Amaris. I'm sure they'd be proud to hear about what you've become.
'A witch,' Amaris uncharacteristically scoffs in her mind. The bitterness in her heart manifests as a tang in her mouth.
As if her late mother would have been proud to have one of her greatest fears confirmed.
A freak for a daughter.
An even greater burden than what she had to shoulder.
If only she was one of those Muggle kids. If only she had been the perfect child just as her sister was. If only—
If only.
.
Amaris rips out the letter from her brother-in-law next, browsing through it a lot calmer in comparison to the first, yet tension is still evident in her tight grip as her eyes trailed the scribbles on the parchment.
Although I can't imagine what you're going through, I know that it's a difficult time for you. Your sister's just as worried. We're family so don't hesitate to reach out, okay?
Her heart churns from their sentiments. She wonders how much of a shitty person she was to be stifled by their genuine kindness until—
"Ames?"
.
Amaris snaps her head back when Pandora's voice interrupts her train of thought.
"Hm?" the blue-eyed maiden hummed, feigning nonchalance as soon as she recognizes that look of concern.
"Are you okay?" the Ravenclaw whispers, the other four oblivious to her words.
Amaris feels her heart beat faster in her chest as if it were dying to break free of her ribs, hands awfully clammy at the thought of anyone finding out.
Pandora looks at her as if she knows something.
Of course, she does. The Ravenclaw was easily the smartest person she knew, too curious —too observant— for her own good.
It's thanks to that that the Hufflepuff feels defensive, tempted to ask, 'What do you know?'
'Can you tell?'
'How much c an you see through my lies?'
'Look away.'
'Go away.'
Instead, she forces a chuckle, evading the truth. "Nothing much. It's just my sister. You know, the usual letters asking me how school is going. She might as well write a novel, I swear."
Although Pandora remains skeptical, Fabian easily buys her ruse, nodding in agreement as if he shared her woes, "Older sisters, right? Tell me about it. Molly started acting like an overbearing mother ever since she got married."
"Well, she is a mother," Gideon reminds his twin and they soon fall back to their everyday pattern of chatter.
.
With the issue momentarily forgotten, Amaris hastily crumples the letters behind her back and stuffs them in her robes as she continued her attempts to avert their attention
"I might ask for more potato crisps when I owl her back, no?"
"Oh, you definitely should. Those things were to die for," Fabian groans at the thought.
Xenophilius surprisingly chimed in, "I'd have to agree. The Muggles really know their stuff."
"Doesn't your mother —or sister, for that matter— feed you enough?" Pandora turns to the Prewetts.
"It's Fabian, when is enough considered enough?" Gideon snorts.
"You're one to talk," Mary eventually joined in the fray, "You finished Amaris' snacks that one time and blamed it on your twin."
He gasps accusingly, "I said that to you in full confidence!"
She listens to their laughter as if it would drown the noise in her head. All the while, succeeding in keeping their minds off of her.
.
Adamant to keep up her ruse and fully aware that she ought to keep her facade, she smiles to bottle up the storm of her emotions.
She smiles and she smiles and she smiles—
As if it were the solution to her problems.
As if it were a way to make sure that the chaos in her head won't spill out.
She smiles as if in doing so, she'd be able to ignore the way that the crumpled balls of paper stuffed in her pockets feel like a loaded gun hidden in her robes.
The maiden goes about the rest of the day as if she were a ghost phasing through the Hogwarts walls. Having mastered the art of being a wallflower, Amaris kept her head down and steered clear of people, avoiding any opportunity to garner anyone's attention.
She almost grows to believe that the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw classes that her friends shared that day were working in her favor, granting her enough time to achieve her goals but then, a figure sneaks up from behind her.
"Leclair?"
Regulus' voice immediately catches her attention.
"Reg! Uh, I was just…" she stammers, attempting to find the right words but instead settling for a mere "Hullo."
.
When the Hufflepuff whips her head around, hands kept behind her as if she was being caught red-handed, Regulus Black narrowed his eyes warily at her jittery demeanor. In the first place, the location where she seemed to be loitering around was suspicious enough.
The boy momentarily shifts his gaze to eye the path leading to the Forbidden Forest, and despite knowing the answer to his question, he asks regardless, "Where are you going?"
"Oh… um…" Amaris warily glances at the trees from the corner of her eyes before averting her gaze towards the ground, failing to come up with some other response. Despite her knack for secrecy, she was absolutely shit at lying.
A short pause later, Regulus beats her into speaking, knowing it'd take ages to earn a response from the guilt-ridden expression on her face. "The Forbidden Forest, really? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're just as rebellious as those insufferable Gryffindors, Leclair."
"I was trying to look for a Centaur," Amaris sighs, aware that there was no point in keeping up her ruse and a tad too well-behaved to thoughtlessly defy the rules.
The boy gives her a knowing look.
"And your precious friends—" More like guard dogs, he thinks but keeps it to himself. "—Let you go off on your own?"
"I don't need them to look after me. I am perfectly capable of walking around by myself," she crosses her arms and lifts her chin up challengingly, albeit failing to give off that effect.
Regulus raises an eyebrow at her and her feigned confidence immediately falters.
.
"They uh… They don't know, okay?" she ends up vomiting her words out as she rambled endlessly in defense. "And I'm aware that you probably won't talk to them either way but can't you keep this between us? Please? It's just— Centaurs know more about Divination, and I want— No, I need answers about the stone, about my dreams, those visions, or whatever they could possibly mean."
Unexpectedly, he doesn't say much about her qualms, seeing how passionate she had been about her insistence on heading towards the forest. But, even more surprising, was what he says instead of 'no.'
"I'll come with you."
"Really?" Bright sapphire eyes meet his stonier gray ones when she looks up to meet his eyes. He immediately looks away out of instinct, hastily doing her in an attempt to hide his bashfulness.
"Are you sure that's alright?"
"I wouldn't have offered otherwise," Regulus assured her, already walking a few steps ahead. Nevertheless, he turns back to wait for her, "Come on."
And at that, Amaris Leclair finds the corners of her lips turning up.
She smiles.
It's her first genuine smile for the day.
IT WAS IN THEIR SECOND YEAR when she saw one for the first time. The young witch stood still, a chill running down her spine. Something was gripping her throat, preventing the air that desperately wants to escape her lungs.
She feels like she is back to her younger self— small, terrified, vulnerable.
Perhaps fear would have even been an understatement because, at that moment, nothing else entered her mind other than the stench of death.
The sinister-looking creature, with its dark leathery coat clinging to its bones, tilts its head eerily. It stares back at her as if it was peering into her soul, and it takes everything in her not to run away from the carriage.
.
Pandora had been the first to notice that something was off. She sees nothing but her dear friend staring across the carriage headlamps as if there were a demon at the other end, and yet —as she had claimed— she sees nothing.
"Amaris?" the Ravenclaw spoke softly, careful not to spook her.
It's only when the blonde maiden stumbles backward that Mary grows vigilant, taking note of what caught Pandora's attention.
"Amaris—" Mary repeated, picking up to where the other witch had finished but, before she is able to finish her sentence, Amaris hastily walked toward them. Despite the way she seemed to be shaking to her very core, the Hufflepuff shields them from something that they couldn't even see. And by instinct, the Gryffindor wraps an arm in front of her to support her.
"What's wrong, Amaris?" Pandora attempts to coerce a response out of her.
The other girl only manages to croak out, voice almost as soft as a whisper, "Something's there."
Mary holds her ground, whipping her head around and preparing to defend them as she asked, "Where?"
"In front of the carriages. It's— It's pulling them," Amaris answers shakily, fear getting the best of her.
And that's what's even more concerning. At that exact moment, Pandora and Mary share a look, with the same thought in mind.
'But there's nothing here?'
.
They're perfectly aware of how peculiar their friend was acting, but whether or not they noticed her sudden fearful demeanor, they don't dare to point it out.
Instead, Pandora links their arms together whilst Mary places a hand on the Hufflepuff's back as they helped her up the carriage, "It's alright, Dora and I are here. We won't let anything happen to you, Ames."
The two girls remain vigilant of the way Amaris kept shaking like a newborn fawn, or the way she had been gripping unto the Ravenclaw's robes tightly, clinging unto her for her dear life.
Only when Pandora speaks up, do they finally make sense of it.
"I've read about this… Magical creatures that are invisible to the naked eye…" the Ravenclaw reckoned. "Thestrals."
Her sudden epiphany causes her to turn to Amaris in concern, "You can see them?"
"Am I— Am I not supposed to?" the Hufflepuff stammers, still adamant to avoid looking at the creature as the carriage began to move. She doesn't loosen her hold on Pandora, nor does she feel relieved despite the circles Mary had been rubbing on her back.
"Thestrals are only visible to those who have seen death."
As soon as Pandora had informed them, Mary immediately jumps the gun, too tactless for her own good, "Amaris, have you—"
"I… I can't— I can't—" The girl heaves a painful breath as she shook her head, eyes shut tightly.
'I can't tell you.'
'Not yet.'
"You don't have to force yourself," Pandora cuts her off, offering her shoulder while giving Mary a warning expression. "Rest. We'll wake you up when we arrive."
Amaris gladly accepts it, burying her head as she leaned against her best friend, chanting hoarsely, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry—"
"It's okay," Mary is the next to interrupt her, holding her hand tightly and pursing her lips sheepishly in an attempt to make it up to her.
The gesture eventually lulls Amaris to sleep, but before drifting away, she thinks about how much she loves them.
She loves them so damn much; all the more why she fears the day they'd leave her despite how irrational it may be.
So instead she smiles.
She smiles whether or not they'd be able to see it.
She keeps her mouth shut and smiles because it's all she's ever known to do.
And now, here she was, two years later, still struck by the same thing.
REGULUS AND AMARIS don't even get the opportunity to find a Centaur. Instead, the maiden stood completely still and utterly pale behind none other than an entire herd of Thestrals. A storm of emotions brews inside her, reminiscent of that which she felt every time she catches sight of one, even more so now that there was an entire bunch.
At first, Regulus doesn't notice them, unable to see them much like any other student. But then, Amaris suddenly stops in her tracks and stands there as if she was standing toe to toe in front of a boggart.
The trees sway violently, feeling bigger than ever before. Their sharp branches twist and turn as if they were out to get her, reaching out to pull her into the depths of the ground.
The rustling of the leaves reminds her of the bustling sound of sirens. That deafening awful sound.
And it's loud. It's loud. It's loud—
And she's back to that day all over again.
.
She's staring at the gloomy sky, eyes eventually falling on the branches of the old Sycamore tree in their back garden. There's a noose. There's a little girl who shouts at the top of her lungs, tears streaming down her plump rosy cheeks—
"Mum!"
Mum. Mum. Mum.
'I'm sorry.'
'Don't leave me.'
'Wake up.'
'Please, Mum.'
It smells like death. It feels like her worst nightmare came back to life.
She's drowning.
She can't breathe. She can't breathe. Can't. Breathe.
.
Regulus grabs Amaris' arm by instinct. Her fear was contagious; something about the way her sapphire eyes dull in color managed to scare the shit out of him. It feels like he was staring at a lifeless doll, an expression he'd never expect out of a vibrant person like her.
The sudden contact manages to pull her back to reality despite the terror that still continued to grab her by her neck.
"Thestrals," is all she musters as if it were a sufficient explanation.
Thankfully, having coined the reputation of a golden child, it doesn't take long for the Slytherin to put two and two together.
Not one for tact, Regulus throws caution to the wind, "Who died?"
"W-What?"
"Look. You don't have to tell me and it's obviously not my place to ask, but you—"
Amaris doesn't know what's gotten to her, doesn't know whether it was because of this wretched day or the sight of the herd of Thestrals. Or maybe even the fact that she had constantly opened up to him throughout the years, believing that he wouldn't care about the ramblings of a Mudblood— that he isn't going to protect her like everyone else, like the people whose lives she had always ruined; her grandfather, her mother, her sister; people she had constantly dragged down—
But whatever it was, the words escape her before she could stop them.
"My grandfather," she answers.
"Oh."
"—But later that day, it's my mother's death that I witnessed."
It tastes like lead in her mouth.
"I-I was the one who found her hanging in our garden…" Amaris rambled, spouting such words so quickly that it was barely coherent. "My grandfather warned me— I should have— It was my fault."
She doesn't dare to look him in the eye, tears brimming yet cheeks dry as she repeated with great conviction, "It was my fault."
"Surely that isn't the case."
"She was hanging in the tree in our back garden, Reg. If I just did something— anything." The cracks in her voice were no doubt inevitable, pain intermixed with the sharp tone of self-deprecation.
"I always knew I was different because I'm not like the other Muggle kids in town. That's why I hated it when I got my letter… It was like a wake-up call… If I wasn't such a freak, maybe I could have alleviated her burden even just a little bit but I made it worse. It was bad enough to be a single mother but to have a witch for a daughter?"
Silence.
Her outburst leaves him tongue-tied, which in turn, causes her to realize her mistake.
Drat. She said too much. He wasn't supposed to know. She must have scared him off.
"I—" I'm sorry.
"Don't," he cuts her off.
.
Regulus Black is rarely if ever, unable to find the words to say. Whether they be snide or crass, he's always been competent enough to conduct himself in an eloquent manner. In pureblood society, it was a must.
But in the same way that he witnessed another side to the girl —not to mention, despite having never admitted it, his closest friend— he is unable to come up with anything else to assure her.
In truth, the first thing he thinks about when she confesses such a grave secret was how cruel Muggles can be.
In his case, no matter how suffocating and aggravating Walburga Black could be, she at least had the decency to own up to her responsibility of taking care of her children even if she didn't have the best ways of doing so.
And yet, to think that a mother of a girl that was as kind and caring as Amaris would not only abandon her children in such a way but allow them to witness such a sight.
'How selfish,' the snide voice in his head whispered, and yet another part of him is aware that he wouldn't be able to fathom how miserable the Muggle woman was for her to have sealed the deal.
He can sympathize with her desire to escape such a life, but he can't stand for it when he keeps hearing Amaris' broken voice.
"It's my fault—"
.
"Amaris, you don't have to apologize," Regulus cuts her off to prevent her from continuing to spiral. He abandons his attempts of trying to find the words to say and unexpectedly takes her in his arms instead.
Despite her initial surprise, Amaris allows herself to give in to his embrace, wrapping her arms around his torso as he rested his chin against her head.
"She's the reason why I approached you," the girl spoke up after a beat. "There's something about that lonesome look in your eyes that reminded me of her and I couldn't leave you alone— I didn't know you well back then but I was… I was scared."
He tenses at that confession, snarling "I don't need—"
"My pity. I know," she finishes his sentence, before correcting him. "But it's not pity, Reg."
"Loneliness changes people…" Amaris momentarily pulls away to look into his eyes. For the nth time that day, azure orbs bore into his silver ones. "It eats you from the inside out and turns into something ugly and depraving. I would know…" I know what it's like. "So I may have come on a bit too strongly, persistently trying to befriend you but believe me when I say, I didn't want it to get you too."
"What about you?" he counters. "How sure are you that it didn't get you?"
"I'm fine."
"You can't honestly expect me to believe that," he scoffs at such a pathetic lie.
But instead of arguing against him and adamantly denying it, she smiles. And she smiles.
She smiles like a fucking doll. The gesture had always been automatic, and somehow it only aggravates him. And so he forces her to look him in the eye.
"I'll ask again," his eyes gaze through her, scrutinizing the slightest hints, scavenging the truth hidden in the depths of those ocean eyes, "Are you really?"
'I am,' she thinks in an attempt to convince herself more than anybody else, but the truth slips out of her and she ends up admitting, "I… I don't know."
.
When Amaris Leclair loves, she loves deeply like each person is etched into her heart. And no, it was not specifically catered to the romantic kind of love. There are many forms of course, familial and platonic not far from being similar— But when it all boils down to it, the maiden would carve their existence into her very soul.
When she loves, she is never one to let go.
It is also the reason why she keeps her loved ones at arm's length in fear of scaring them off with her demons.
Because more often than not, she is terrified.
Because Amaris Leclair is nothing if not a coward.
But Regulus Black can't say he's any different, so this time around he takes the first step. He finds courage in their fear as if he gained a comrade in battle.
"Do your friends know?" he asks, still holding the girl in his arms.
It takes a beat before she responds, "…No."
"Why is that?"
"I'm scared they'd see me differently."
"You told me," he raised a point.
"Well, you didn't like me at first. How bad could it get?" The Hufflepuff laughed mirthlessly and he figures that he probably deserved that after everything he put her through but then, her next words leave a pang in his chest.
"…And besides, it's always been easier to tell you things because like I once said, you wouldn't care about what I have to say."
Regulus corrects her assumptions, "I care."
She meets his eyes for a second time in his embrace, "Really?"
"It's a part of friendship, you fool," he berates her. "People worry because they care."
"Aw, look at you bragging about your social skills—" the girl kids, but it seems like forcing a laugh was an error in judgment because it ends up morphing into a pitiful sob.
.
The next thing she knows she's desperately trying to stop her tears and Regulus momentarily pulls away to brush them off her cheeks. She breaks into silent sobs, trying her best to suppress them, but nevertheless still chants like a broken record, "I'm sorry."
The boy pulls her back into his arms and she buries her head against his chest whilst he rests his chin against her head, holding her even tighter.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"Ari, you have nothing to apologize for," his tone sounded so gentle, that if anyone heard him right then, they wouldn't have believed that this was the Regulus Black. "There are a lot of people who care for you. It's unlike you to be dense about such."
"But what if— What if I'm too much?" she cries softly, sucking in a breath. "What if they leave?"
"Have a little faith in us," he scoffs for the nth time that day, but it still lacks his typical snide attitude.
Though he does maintain his smugness.
"Besides, even if they turn their backs on you—" Although he seriously doubts that. "—I'm still here, aren't I?"
She sniffs, seeming to have calmed down.
"Okay."
When Amaris Leclair finally pulls away —for good this time— she wipes her wet cheeks with the sleeves of her robes, sneaking glances at him shyly especially after realizing the dampness of his clothes.
Regulus scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, unable to figure out what to do next, but then the maiden beats him into speaking.
"Sorry for messing up your robes."
"That's an easy fix," he states rather calmly, casting a quick cleaning spell that dried up his clothes.
Amaris simply watches and when she meets his eyes once again, the idea pops up in his mind, "I propose a new trade."
"What is it?"
"If I can't call Muggle-borns the M-word, you have got to stop apologizing to me all the bloody time."
She smiles wryly at the realization, "Oh, sorry. I do that a lot, don't I?"
The Slytherin narrows his eyes at that, "You literally just ignored my instruction the second I said it."
"Sorr—" Amaris covers her mouth, catching herself before she slips up the second time.
"Better," Regulus smirks in approval, and her heart does little backflips. Even more so, when he manages to take her by surprise for the nth time that day, inviting her to take his hand as if it would allow her to stay grounded, "Let's head back."
.
Amaris reluctantly takes him up on his offer, intertwining their fingers together despite the way his touch scorches her like fire. The only thing that manages to tear her mind away from the heat spreading throughout her face were the consequences they ought to face if they were caught by their schoolmates.
"What about—"
"You talk too much, you know that?"
Knowingly, Regulus transfigures her robes to that of his house, to avoid any suspicions. ('She looks good in green,' he thinks for a moment, although her personality couldn't be farther from a Slytherin's.) He even goes as far as to pull her hood up just to make sure of it.
Thanks to his knack for pretenses, the Slytherin easily proclaims without an ounce of emotion hinted on his face, despite feeling anything but calm, "I'll let go when we're out of the forest, but I'm still bringing you to Pomfrey."
"But I'm not sick?"
"Calming draught" is all he responds with, holding her hand tight as he led her out of the woods.
"What if she's not there?"
"Then I'll smuggle you some out of the infirmary."
Amaris states simply, "That's against the rules."
Regulus sneered, "You're one to talk about rules."
"I follow some rules."
"You follow some and yet disregard the ones that would actually affect your safety."
"Evading curfew to meet you in the Astronomy Tower does not put me in danger."
"And yet you chose to venture into the Forbidden Forest in search of a bloody Centaur."
"That's different!"
"Is not."
"Is so."
"Prove it."
. . .
They manage to leave the forest hand in hand amidst their exchange. Despite his claims and despite her qualms, Regulus still hadn't let go of her hand. They steered clear of people, traveling only deserted hallways before finally arriving in the infirmary.
During their short journey, she calls out to him with her hood still up and her face barely in view.
"Reg?"
"What?"
"Thank you."
He only makes a sound of acknowledgment, refusing to let her notice his slight embarrassment.
His attempts turn out to be futile when her next words cause a crimson tint of his cheeks to flare 'till his ears.
"And for the record, if they turn their backs on you, I'll still be here too."
Regulus whips his head around to face her, trying to play it off coolly with a smug smirk on his face, "You think I don't already know that?"
And Amaris smiles genuinely at the confidence in his words.
It's one of her brightest ones.