cw: graphic depictions of blood and violence.
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ACE OF WANDS
upright — inspiration, creative spark, new
initiative, new passion, enthusiasm, energy
reversed — delays, blocks, lack of passion,
lack of energy, hesitancy, creative blocks
APRIL 1976
IT WAS A GRUESOME scene painted in crimson hues, filled with a myriad of flashing lights within the darkness of the night sky. Candles were stripped of their fire and red roses appeared dull in contrast to the dark shade of the blood spilled.
It was an evening soiree turned into a crime scene— a tragedy for the unsuspecting, a time to strike for the hunters who had carefully guarded their prey. It was the first step of many, an opportunity to pick off the vile weeds of blood traitors leeching off the purest trees.
But it's not like she was aware of any of that.
Amaris Leclair was a Muggle-born, after all. The eccentricities of archetypical purebloods with all their pretentious gatherings may have been something she had heard of, but she had yet to understand the specific reason why her closest friends had dreaded such.
In the first place, she can barely pick off a couple of scenes.
It felt like an old film playing on loop, albeit instead of the monochrome depiction, she sees too much of a particular color. And that's all she can put her attention to—
It's red.
It's all that seemed to matter.
Her hyper fixation on the particular color is what allows her to see glimpses of strangers. The gravity of their injuries ranges from those she had practiced healing and those which she couldn't even dream of witnessing.
Cuts. Scabs. Blood.
Little droplets fall on the ground like spilled wine, like autumn leaves dancing around as they crash and burn to the ground.
Red. Red. Red.
She realizes then that some faces turn out to be familiar after all.
.
There was a girl screaming, wand against her shoulder, desperately clutching on the gash that was too gruesome to cure. It would take more than a miracle to reattach that arm.
Her brother pushes her dark locks out of the way, holding unto the same wound as if it would do something to stop the bleeding. He's screaming at the top of his lungs, crying her name out—
"Pandora."
"Please— Please. You can't. No—"
Her heart feels like it had lodged itself up to her throat, beats getting dangerously faster by the second.
Every cell in Amaris' body is telling her to move.
Move. Move. Move—
But instead, the world shifts.
.
It tilts upside down, fades to black, and the next thing she knows, she is soon greeted by a group of three teenagers, backs against each other, warding off stray attacks. The ring of fire grows like a red flower, snaking around them precariously as if it was a basilisk ready to strike its prey.
There's a girl who she can't name, ebony locks cascading over her shoulders and eyes narrowed dangerously as if every fiber in her body is screaming, telling her to protect —to shield. It was almost as if she was ready to jump in front of them in a heartbeat.
Amaris gets it. She feels the same way.
But someone beats her to it.
And it doesn't take long for Amaris to realize who this girl had desperately yearned to protect.
She grows to recognize the other boy shouting at their offender. There's a fire in his eyes. And he's ready to kill. Vindication runs in his veins.
They hurt someone of his. They have to pay. They have to pay. An eye for an eye— It's fairly easy to achieve.
Had his features not seemed so familiar from the halls at Hogwarts, had she not been friends with the three rambunctious Gryffindors, she would have never even recognized who it was.
Sirius Black.
Then that means—
No. No. No—
Not him.
She gets a clearer view of the boy laying on his back.
Regulus.
.
The beautiful maiden holds the older boy back, keeping their priorities in check no matter how much more threatening the expression on her face seemed to be, "Sirius, stop! Regulus is—"
He growls, the archetypical Gryffindor stubbornness getting the best of him as he continues to pursue their attacker.
"They hurt my brother! I'm not going to let them get away with that, Freyja!"
"I know!" she screams back, her voice on the verge of breaking. From vulnerability or rage, Amaris can't seem to tell which. "But Regulus isn't safe here and neither are we. Get that in that thick skull of yours and let's go!"
The flames consume her field of vision.
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In the dead of the night, with the moon still high in the sky, Amaris Leclair jolts awake, feeling like she's been doused with ice water.
It's cold.
She's pale.
It's so damn hard to breathe.
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[ April 8, 1976 ]
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Hi.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
I know this is out of the blue and you're probably asleep but…
Take care of yourself, alright?
[ April 9, 1976 ]
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Something wrong?
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
It's nothing.
Did you just wake up? If so, good morning.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Really? You're telling me nothing's wrong after writing to me at such an ungodly hour?
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
It was just a nightmare. I know it's not real.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
You know where to find me if you want to talk about it.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
I know. Thank you for the offer.
But can you— (*redacted)
It's all good, really.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
I saw you cross that out.
Can I what?
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Nothing.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Amaris.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Can you promise me you won't let yourself get hurt?
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
I should be telling you that.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Reg, please.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Slytherins are notorious for their self-preservation. We're cleverer (and more superior) than other houses that way.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
I don't think you're as much of a model Slytherin as you believe yourself to be.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Take that back, you little gremlin.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Hehe, make me.
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"DRINK THIS," Madam Pomfrey handed her a cocktail of potions, a single Muggle pill standing out from the rest. They had yet to figure out which particular magical ingredients the maiden was specifically immune to, but the older woman was never one to stop a search for a cure for her patients. Amaris Leclair, no matter how peculiar her condition may be, was not an exception.
The Hufflepuff takes the medicine obediently, holding a glass of water and gazing at its rim, evidently deep in thought. She sat at the edge of one of the infirmary beds, feet dangling above the floor.
The matron eyes her with slight concern, finally coming to a conclusion while she had been arranging medical supplies. Vials of various substances and jars of different ointments hover over their heads and yet with one flick of her wand, they're immediately lined back up in the cupboards.
"You saw things again, didn't you?"
It was a rhetorical question but nevertheless, the young witch nods in confirmation.
"Do you remember them, this time?"
Amaris shakes her head to express her disagreement.
The woman stares at her a tad bit longer than she's used to.
"Okay, maybe some," Amaris then takes it back, never one to lie with a straight face.
However, this time around it felt like it was something she doesn't want to remember rather than something she forgot.
"It was red," She confesses anyway, glimpses of those vague visions swarming in her head whenever she shuts her eyes.
"Red?"
"Yes. The color of fire… Blood. There was a lot… of blood." A shiver runs up her spine. She thinks she's going to be sick.
It doesn't go unnoticed by the older witch despite how preoccupied she seemed, preparing the infirmary for any oncoming students.
In an attempt to keep her mind off of it, Amaris fiddles with the bottles lined up in the medicine cart, trying to ignore Madam Pomfrey's prying eyes.
"I think it's best you take this one too," the matron hands her a vial of the Draught of Peace. "It will improve your condition as you might recall. But if you're feeling better, be sure to head back to class. It'd be a shame for you to miss your lessons."
Amaris easily complies like the obedient child she is.
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When the temporary relief granted by the potion finally washes over her, the Hufflepuff turns to the healer after eyeing a particular potion's label rather intently. The Draught of Peace is almost left forgotten on the nightstand beside her.
"Poppy," she breaks the silence. "Is there any way to increase its effectiveness?"
"You mean the Draught of Peace? As you already know, you've once taken the Calming Draught which is guaranteed to grant a similar sensation—"
"I mean, Dittany…" the girl trailed on. "It may cure surface-level wounds but what if—"
"The Essence of Dittany is simply an ingredient," Madam Pomfrey interrupts her, looking up from her tasks. "What you are after, my dear, is a potion that is rather akin to the effects of the Wiggenweld Potion."
"I know. I learned about that from you. But with the way it's typically used, that potion is better known for rejuvenation rather than mere injuries. What if—"
"Miss Leclair," the woman's voice turned stern despite the kindness often evident in her tone. "I would expect that you, of all people, would come to me or any of your professors in such a dire situation. Now, if there is information you are withholding then you ought to tell me the truth immediately. Do not, I repeat, do not take such risks on your own."
"I'm just a little paranoid, Poppy. What if—" her voice cracks. "What if I'm seeing these things for a reason? I know it might be in my head but I want to— I want to be able to do something, anything."
It seems her words got through to the matron, or perhaps the older woman was merely trying to placate her worries.
Either way, Poppy Pomfrey spoke insightfully, "As you were taught in your Potions class, beginner-level potions are not to be underestimated. They are but something you build on and improve, I've had my fair share of experimenting to know what works and what does not work back when I was just an aspiring healer. You could do the same to push the limits of the Wiggenweld potion."
"However," she doesn't fail to add. "Seeing as I am not a professor, I do not believe that my occupation provides me as much time to mentor you. You may consult with me, of course. You know my door is always open for you and I would be glad to offer my assistance. But might I suggest that if you are dabbling with such, make sure who has a knack for potions? There is a rather thin line between medicine and poison, my dear."
"I'll keep that in mind," Amaris nods curtly, a thin smile glossing over her lips.
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The older witch returns the gesture, turning to meet her in the eyes, "Feeling better?"
"Yes, thank you," the Hufflepuff beamed, returning the vial of Dittany to the cart and walking towards the woman to hand over the bottle of Draught of Peace.
"Keep those," Madam Pomfrey motions to stop her before prompting, "Now, off you go. You've already missed breakfast."
"I'll come back sooner or later. Thanks again, Poppy."
"Anytime, dear."
Their exchange assures Amaris for a moment. She feels warmth spreading through her chest at the thought of being cared for. A small part of her wonders if that was what it would be like if her mother was still alive.
REGULUS BLACK WAS far from daft. It doesn't take much for him to realize that something was off. He may have only known her since Hogwarts, but he had watched her close enough to figure out how she ticked as if getting rid of his oblivion would be a key to comprehending this anomaly. The way she acted differently in contrast to other people was something to be feared after all. Until one day, she grew on him long enough for him to know that he was clearly in the wrong. But as miraculous as it was for someone as prideful as he was to admit that, there's no need to dwell on that latter detail.
Point is…
Amaris Leclair may seem simple at first glance, but she was a complexity, a mix of contradictions.
She doesn't express the same kindness she showers others with to herself. She doesn't follow the same principles she often believed in, twisting loopholes and getting away with technicalities. She doesn't see the same things they would see in her despite how perceptive she was when it came to others.
So, really, he knows her well enough —perhaps even better than Pandora Lestrange, he would argue (and she would scowl)— and that means he definitely didn't need to hear it from her.
Albeit, much to his displeasure, the Ravenclaw had gone out of her way to do so anyway.
.
"Black," the youngest Lestrange had approached him begrudgingly when she finds him alone in the library that afternoon. It doesn't take a genius to know how much it was killing her pride. The incensed expression on her face was enough to get by.
'Incensed' does not even begin to describe how she felt towards him. Unfortunately, such was definitely not the case when it came to his relationship with her best friend.
"Lestrange," he sneered back, just as equally disgruntled by her presence.
"Amaris is…" the girl trailed on, ignoring his rude demeanor. "She's been acting odd since yesterday. Do you know something?"
"You're a Ravenclaw, Lestrange," he scoffs. "Use that mind of yours. And even if I knew something, why would I ever tell you?"
"Fine. I'll figure it out by myself," she scowls.
Then again, the thought of Amaris Leclair in peril always seems to get the best of him— especially after witnessing her once vibrant sapphire eyes brimming with tears.
He shudders. He definitely does not want to see that again.
.
"Wait," Regulus calls for Pandora just as she was about to leave. "Define odd."
She smirks inwardly, feeling as if she's one the fight this time. Though, she evidently knew better than to express such. (Priorities.)
"She's been awfully clingy, and won't let me out of her sight—" the Ravenclaw explained. "Don't get me wrong. I don't mind that she keeps hanging around me but when I'm not around, she keeps running off to Merlin-knows-where and I'm starting to worry. Did she tell you anything?"
"No…" he frowns, recalling the odd message she sent the other day at such an ungodly hour.
Pandora sighs, efforts gone to waste.
"No, but I think I know what you're getting at."
. . .
He hates to admit it, but Pandora Lestrange was truly unto something. The notion was easily proven when he somehow tracks down the girl in question, following her to the greenhouse and catching her red-handed.
The corners of his lips quirk up in mild amusement. "Resorting to larceny now, Leclair? And here I thought you were a textbook Hufflepuff."
"Reg," she beams, azure orbs meeting his gray eyes as she looked up to greet him, snipping a leaf thereafter. "What brings you here?"
"At first I figured you still didn't know you're way around Hogwarts, but then I came across something far more interesting…" His gaze momentarily falls on the basket of leaves and flowers resting on the floor, "Such as watching you steal Dittany and Moly from the greenhouses."
"I'm not stealing," Amaris corrects him. "Madam Pomfrey knows what I'm up to and she helped me get permission from Professor Sprout."
"Out of curiosity, what are you up to?"
"I was doing research on healing potions," she smiles. "Xeno's gonna help me."
He scrunches his nose in derision and scowls, "Why Lovegood?" (Or in other words: Why didn't you ask me?)
"Second to Pandora, he's the best one I've got. The twins mess around too much and Mary is just as bad as I am—"
"They're not your only friends."
"I did think that you'd be the ideal person, but then I figured you'd have better things to do," Amaris purses her lips sheepishly. "And besides, it feels like you've been doing too much for me lately."
"Well, with your knack for danger, I don't want to be responsible for your death or otherwise," Regulus mused.
.
The girl blinks twice, tilting her head as she mulled it over, "If I ask, will you help me?"
A thin-lipped smile momentarily glosses over his face, "Go ahead and ask."
"Regulus Black, may I have the honor of being granted your company?"
"Try again with a little less sarcasm and a bit more gratitude."
She laughs at that, still as bright (or rather, 'blinding' seemed to be more accurate, he believed) as ever. The mere sound of her laughter is still as delightful. And who in their right mind could say no to that?
For a moment, he thinks, Amaris Leclair is charming enough that she could probably get away with murder if she tried.
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Here onwards are a collection of messages between Amaris Leclair and Regulus Black through the span of April to May 1976.
[ April 12, 1976 ]
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
I talked to Slughorn. We're free to use the Potions Lab after school. He seems pretty interested in the idea of an improved healing potion. We can probably consult with him aside from Madam Pomfrey.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
That's great news! Thank you so much.
Professor Sprout's going to teach me how to harvest the ingredients.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Great. What else do we need?
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Salamander blood, Unicorn horn, Horlump juice, Lionfish spine, and a couple other things.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
I'll pull some strings and get Slughorn to give us access to the storeroom.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Ah, you are his favorite.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
We have a club but it's not as marvelous as you're thinking. Pretty sure he wanted me in his collection for being part of the House of Black.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Don't sell yourself short. You're one of the brightest people I know. It might be the only thing I'd commend Professor Slughorn for.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Flattery, Leclair? I already promised to help you.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
It's not "flattery." If it was, I'd say something along the lines of you being wiser than Pandora.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
The deal's off.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
I'm kidding! I don't play favorites.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
But for what it's worth, you're one of my favorite people.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
You're incorrigible.
[ April 21, 1976 ]
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Now that I think of it, I never got to explain the details of the potion.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
What do you mean? Aren't we just improving the efficiency of the Wiggenweld potion?
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Yes, but not exactly.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Elaborate.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Well, it's supposed to cater to grave injuries so I've been thinking of implementing the same effects of the Wound-Cleaning and Blood replenishment potions.
Oh, and some Calming Draught for after I guess.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Why not just make them separately?
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
It's not the same.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Considering the complexity of this, you might as well brew an elixir of life.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
I would if I could.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
What are you even going to use this for?
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Just… Emergencies?
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
What kind of crap do you expect to get yourself into?
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
You sure ask too many questions.
[ April 29, 1976 ]
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
You still haven't answered my question.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
What question?
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Don't act coy with me. What's it for, Amaris?
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
I told you, it's for emergencies. Just in case something happens.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
And what per se is going to happen?
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
How should I know?
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Merlin, you're impossible to talk to.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
I honestly don't know. I figured, why not make one just in case?
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Alright, alright. I suppose I should've known better. You've always been an oddity of sorts.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Rude.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Yeah, yeah. You can spare me the lecture before we meet tonight at the tower. McGonagall is bound to catch on and realize that I'm not paying attention to her lecture.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Don't get yourself in trouble. Quidditch, I'm all for it, but I wouldn't want to wait for you after both practice and detention.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
And who's fault would that be?
[ May 8, 1976 ]
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
I might run late.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Quidditch practice again?
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Yes, it's almost the last match for the season.
Wait for me in the lab?
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Of course.
Break a leg!
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
What?
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
It's a Muggle expression. It means good luck.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
You folks sure have an odd way of saying it.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Just go and have fun. I'll be praying for your victory.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
No need to pray, Leclair. I can always guarantee it.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
That's the spirit!
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
You know I'm messing with you, right?
Can nothing truly vex you?
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
You always only act like you're full of yourself but I know you're not. At least not really.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Shut up.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
No need to feel embarrassed, Reg. Although, that would certainly be a sight to see.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
I swear to Merlin. Stop.
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MAY 1976
"FOR THE LAST TIME," Regulus Black heaves an exasperated sigh, tempted to point the stirring rod at her as he leaned against the counter to emphasize his words. "That's not how it works. You can't just mix them together."
"Well, why not?" Amaris huffed defiantly, crossing her arms in front of her chest and momentarily glancing at him before averting her eyes back to the cauldron in order to observe the potion's color.
Their shoulders touch as their sides pressed against each other, too preoccupied in their anticipation for the slightest change in the boiling concoction.
The boy tries not to allow their close proximity to get to him, half-tempted to lean closer yet half-tempted to call it off. He supposes that he ought to thank his lucky stars when the blue-eyed maiden barely notices the way the heat spreads to his face.
Amaris was not only a tad too vexing to work with, but she was also prone to skinship, often lacking spatial awareness. Not that he'd complain, but nevertheless the fact remains that:
This clearly wasn't one of his brightest decisions.
.
"Potion-making is a delicate art, you're not cooking some sort of stew," he heaves a deep breath to speak to her calmly, but nevertheless adds snidely, "Although with how abysmal you are with this, I doubt you'd even succeed in making something edible—"
"Hey!"
"—Point is, there are complications with the effects of the potion because we're adjusting their spells and not merely combining them to form some dreadful concoction. Otherwise, instead of successfully enhancing its effectivity, it'll have a weaker effect than if their basic form is taken alone," Regulus continued to prattle on.
"But none of it makes sense!" Amaris protests, "How come the Calming draught is harder to brew compared to all the other healing potions? It doesn't even cure anything, it's just a mood stabilizer."
"Well, someone apparently thought that combining more than three kinds of healing potions would be a walk in the park."
"I never claimed that it was going to be easy. Don't put words in my mouth."
"You were the one who invented this contraption in the first place," he retorts, rolling his eyes as he scoffed, "Who in their right mind would combine more than three healing potions?"
"Poppy said it would be an incredible achievement if we do—" ever the optimist she slips in, "and we will— manage to succeed in creating it."
"There's a difference between optimism and denial. As for Madam Pomfrey, I hate to admit it but she's likely saying such just to placate you."
"If you don't believe it's going to happen then it never will. And Poppy isn't one for empty words. Honesty —no matter how blunt or brutal— is always much appreciated in the medical field."
"Who's the fool who taught you that nonsense?"
.
They end up bickering the rest of the allotted time, only calling it a day when the sun finally sinks into the horizon. Much to his displeasure, despite their childish interaction, the Hufflepuff still continues to overwhelm him with her brightness. Even more so when she suddenly blurts out despite his snarky jabs and teasing remarks—
"I missed this…"
And he finds himself questioning his decisions all over again because— Circe, he is not supposed to be charmed by Amaris Leclair.
It's bad —No, it's worse than that. (It's dreadful? Horrific? Drat, look at him, finding it difficult to make use of words. She's bad news, I tell you.)— But, with the way that the Hufflepuff easily admits such things without a hint of embarrassment, Regulus still finds himself caught off guard despite his attempts of staying vigilant.
It takes his all but he manages to play it off with his typical nonchalance, stating flatly, "We've been doing this almost every day for the past few weeks."
"I mean, being lab partners in Potions," the girl nudges him, pursing her lips together at his nonplussed expression. "It was the only class I could actually talk to you without raising questions."
"Not that it ever stopped you from slipping notes."
"Well, we never got caught did we?"
He snorts in half-amusement, before wondering, "What brought this on?"
"I never got to say it. Thought you should know," she shrugs nonchalantly.
It's aggravating to witness how she says such things with a straight face, and yet here he was, trying to suppress his bashfulness with extreme effort.
He sighs (in defeat, but she can't tell that), "You're always such a bloody enigma, you know that?"
"I am?" She looks almost dumbfounded. "I always thought I was an open book."
"Not at all," the Slytherin snorts. Or perhaps it would've been more appropriate to claim that even as an open book, she was a cryptic one. Ancient runes would have been easier to decode compared to that.
.
"Anyway," Regulus averts the subject, sewing as the moment has passed. "You've gotten better since then, I'd give you that. At least this time, you haven't managed to set anything on fire."
The Hufflepuff gasps, "I never set anything on fire!"
"Right. You just almost charred your robes because the burner suddenly appeared beside you, was it?"
Amaris narrows her eyes, mumbling like a petulant child for the lack of a better retort, "I can't believe you're still holding that against me."
The boy couldn't help himself, he chuckles. There was something about her demeanor that was both amusing and endearing.
His breathy laugh is subtle and yet, the way that the corners of his eyes crinkle definitely doesn't get past her. It tickles her chest. For a moment, it gets a little harder to breathe.
And then, as if it hadn't been enough, Regulus slipped in, "For the record, I missed this too."
Amaris blinks twice, a lot more surprised than she was flustered. In fact, she was likely too stunned by his admission to even process his words entirely, until he adds, "Potions isn't as amusing when nobody's as great of a klutz as you are."
Despite the teasing insinuation, the maiden has to chew on her lip to suppress a smile.
Butterflies swarm her stomach but she doesn't say a word.
As brilliant as the boy was, he fails to notice.
.
.
.
Here onwards are a collection of messages between Amaris Leclair and Regulus Black through the span of May to June 1976.
[ May 15, 1976 ]
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
I'm on my way back from Hogsmeade.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Got everything?
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Yup. Dogweed and Deathcap just restocked their plants.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Do you need help carrying them over?
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
I can ask Fabian and Gideon, I think they're nearby.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Wait for me by the gate. I'm on my way.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Boy, you Slytherins really can't stand losing to Gryffindors, can you?
[ May 21, 1976 ]
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Are we still on for tonight?
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
If you're free. I want to know where we went wrong so I'll be reading in the library either way.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
On my way.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Don't get caught. Madam Pince looks vigilant.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Who do you think you're talking to?
[ June 22, 1976 ]
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Well, that's a wrap. Thanks again. To be honest, I'm a little sad it's done. I had a lot of fun spending time with you these last few months.
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
Don't be melodramatic. That just means we're meeting at our usual location.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Astronomy Tower?
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
I'm already here.
[ June 30, 1976 ]
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Poppy gave me her seal of approval!
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
It's about time. The school year's almost over.
》Written on Amaris Leclair's journal; addressed to Regulus Black:
Have you packed? If you're free, can you meet me in the Astronomy Tower, tonight?
》Written on Regulus Black's journal; addressed to Amaris Leclair:
See you at 9.
.
.
.
JUNE 1976
WHEN AMARIS LECLAIR meets Regulus Black in the tower later that night, in all honesty, their potion becomes a second priority or perhaps even an excuse.
Lately, she realizes that not only has she been heading towards the Astronomy Tower to meet him without so much as a glance at the stars, but she has also been seeking him out as if his mere presence always manages to calm her worries.
She supposes that it was likely due to the Thestral incident. Regulus had easily torn down one of her many walls since then. Although, as obvious as that realization was, she refuses to dwell too much on it.
Attachment, after all, was quite a bit of a burden. Despite his words claiming otherwise, she doesn't want to risk anything and drive him away.
So yes, their enhanced healing potion was, without a doubt, just an excuse.
(Then again, unbeknownst to her, the boy would have likely pulled a similar alibi, considering that it would be their last rendezvous prior to the Summer holidays.)
.
Even with his assertion of quid pro quo and all the other archetypical Slytherin values, Regulus Black did not even consider getting something in return when he had offered to assist her in her endeavors.
He did not ask for his share of their elixir, did not even think that she had created such with his well-being in mind.
And so, when she had suddenly brought up her intentions for creating such —that she, as usual, was concerned about her dear friends— Regulus finds himself astonished.
Though, once again, perhaps he should have known better. Amaris never does anything with consideration for herself, but she never fails to think about everyone else. He still can't tell whether or not that's a good thing or a bad thing, but he supposes that that would be a problem for a different day.
.
"How much leftovers do you have?" he inevitably asks, eyeing the vial hanging by a chord and the separate bottle of turquoise fluid she handed him under the pretense of a refill ("you can never have too many" and "you can never have too much," the maiden had claimed).
The way the color of the potion slightly shifts to various hues of blue reminds him of her eyes, and perhaps that in itself was healing enough. Although, he obviously doesn't say such, choosing to wait for her reply instead.
"I still have some remaining," Amaris answers simply.
"I bet you distributed the rest of them to your so-called friends," the boy narrows his eyes at her vague response, "How much is some?"
"Just enough for a single vial," she tells him wryly.
He immediately hands over the bigger bottle. "Take it back."
"No," she protests in an instant.
"Amaris," the boy warned.
"Give me a decent reason."
Regulus sneers, "I don't want to be indebted to you."
"Denied," the Hufflepuff easily volleys back. "You helped me make it so this is me repaying you."
"I don't need any payment."
"You realize that you're contradicting your own words."
"I don't care. Take. It. Back."
"Now, you're just being difficult."
He heaves an exasperated sigh, "I'm the difficult one?"
"You need it more than I do!" she blurts out, to which he grows even more vigilant.
.
The Slytherin furrows his eyebrows together, demanding an explanation, "Why would I need it? You said you invented this for the sake of emergencies—"
"I don't know, okay?" Amaris reasoned out. "I just— It was a gut feeling. I dreamt of something. I barely remember anything, but I made this with you and Pandora in mind. We don't meet during the holidays but I'm always worried about you guys. If you take this, I'll at least have some peace of mind."
"Fine, I'll take it this once," he gives in and stuffs them in the pocket of his robes, unable to refute her words.
He supposes it wasn't too bad when he witness her satisfied smile. And once again, he is reminded of the many many reasons why Amaris is bad news.
But then, she tells him, "I know it's a long shot, and I say it every year but you're always welcome to visit me, alright? You know, if you ever need an escape."
And something about the way he is easily placated by this girl in front of him, tells him that this was definitely not going to be the last time he relinquishes himself to her.