The second week of September had the second year students crowding the announcement board at their common room as soon as their last class dismissed them. One sight of it explained everything - the Slytherin quidditch team would be holding a tryout this weekend at the pitch. Regulus' eyes stared at the poster longingly as he imagined himself on a broom, flying across the pit with the snitch in his line of sight. This year would be great if he were a year older.
"My father was a quidditch captain once," bragged Warrington to no one in particular, his voice winning over the excited murmur around the board. "Won a couple quidditch cups too. I'm definitely going to try out next year."
It was hard to restrain himself from rolling his eyes, but Regulus managed. At this point, all pureblood families had members who played quidditch, so having a father who was once a quidditch captain was nothing to boast about. Regulus' own father did not play quidditch, but his uncles did. Uncle Alphard would have played internationally if he didn't have a business to manage. Regulus would know, his uncle never quite stopped bringing this topic up whenever Regulus visited him.
"Next year?" Asked one soft voice Regulus knew very well. Her tone was of perplexity. "Why not this year?"
"Everyone knows the Slytherin team only accepts third years and above," sneered Warrington. The girl's cluelessness on quidditch seemed to offend him somehow. "Try watching quidditch for once, Crouch. You can at least pretend to support our house."
That was a bit harsh, Regulus thought. He watched as the girl's face closed down, her soft features turned stony. Lifting her chin, Crouch marched out of the crowd towards the exit without as much as a word for Orpington who previously stood beside her.
A faint concerned look was exchanged between Regulus and Rabastan. There was nothing they could do for Crouch, not really. Despite the effort from Regulus' part, Crouch wasn't exactly his friend. It wasn't their place to sooth her clear anger. Still, it wouldn't stop him from saying the next words.
"Surely you understand she is busy beating your marks when you watch quidditch?" Regulus drawled, commanding attention from all his yearmate.
"Indeed," continued Rabastan, following his lead. "I, personally, wouldn't dare to comment on others when another T on my mark would have me disowned."
Warrington flushed at the reminder of his last year's failure (and his mother's rather public admonishment for the said failure.) The others snickered at this and Regulus decided to leave the matter at that.
One hour of staring at his blank essay parchment later, he still couldn't stop thinking about Crouch's expression.
She looked hurt by Warrington's words. Regulus didn't understand though. Madeline Crouch did not care for the quidditch cup or even the house cup. She never tried actively to answer the professors' questions in any class. In fact, in her own words, spoken in one of the rare moments when they went off topic from whatever complicated potion they were discussing in their previous study session, Madeline Crouch had said that house pride was pointless, much to Regulus' bafflement. Therefore, the accusation of being not supportive enough towards their house shouldn't bother her.
"Regulus."
He turned at the call of his name. Rabastan looked exasperated.
"You realize you won't be able to write anything before you get the reference books Mcgonagall wants us to cite, right?"
Oh.
Regulus kept his expression flat and ignored his reddening cheeks. Both of them soon found their way to the library.
It didn't surprise them to see Crouch surrounded by library books at one of the tables in the transfiguration section, furiously working on an essay.
"Crouch?"
She didn't startle, nor did she pause in her writing. A very brief glance at their direction was her initial response before asking, "Is there something you need?"
Her words lacked the typical warmth Crouch had for them. Regulus tried to keep the frown out of his face. "May we join you? You seem to have gathered all these substantial books."
"By all means."
Crouch, he gathered after an hour of silence, was still angry. Or maybe angry was not the right word. More aloof? Cold? In any case, Warrington's trivial words triggered something.
"Don't mind Warrington's words," Regulus blurted out at one point, breaking the silence. The storm in her cold blue eyes shifted to him. "He's a git."
Her expression was hard to describe. But it was definitely less hostile so Regulus took it as a win. There was a considerable pause before the girl sighed, eyes closed as her shoulder sagged from the previous tension.
"I know. I was - I suppose I was just upset that he thought I haven't watched a single quidditch game."
Well. To be honest, she had not in fact watched a single quidditch game last year - Regulus would know, he searched for her in the crowd every time he went to watch the quidditch game. But he had enough tact to leave this fact unsaid. It seemed like Crouch was a bit sensitive to the subject of her knowledge of quidditch. He couldn't fathom the reason why. Maybe her brother mocked her about it? It seemed unlikely. Barty Crouch was not one to antagonize his sister to the point of making her defensive about something.
Crouch said something, her soft voice was a lull beneath his loud mind. Regulus belatedly realized that he was too caught up in his thoughts and failed to hear her words. "Pardon?"
"Warrington," she said, her tone patient. "He said that they only accept third years and above. That is false. They will accept anyone with talents and enough skill."
"Oh."
Something passed by her eyes and they glinted under the dim lights. Suddenly, a knowing smile hid at the corner of her mouth, teasing him of the unknown thoughts in the witch's mind. Regulus resisted the urge to squirm.
"You should try out this year," Crouch said, out of nowhere. Where in Salazar's name did she get this idea from?
"Me?"
She nodded, eyes calculating. "You're aiming to be a seeker, aren't you?"
The fact that Crouch knew that he wanted to join the team - let alone the precise position he wanted! - was enough to make him gape at her dumbly. Was this common knowledge? Was he that obvious? Or maybe Crouch, dare he hoped, paid attention to him to the point where she could discern his wish to be a seeker? It was mind blowing and sure enough, it blew his mind enough that his mind stopped working. He couldn't form a single, coherence, sentence to reply the girl with, and his throat felt dry -
"He is," Rabastan answered at his place, to which Regulus was utterly grateful.
Crouch only nodded decisively at the confirmation, her tone confident as she continued her words, blue eyes bored at his. Her smile positively impish. "I will count on you to prove Warrington wrong."
It was too much.
"But - no second year is ever accepted - !"
"Then you will simply be the first," her tone was final, leaving no room for a debate, and the confidence that practically dripped from her words astounded him - It was as if she didn't entertain the thought that there was a probability for him to fail.
Regulus gaped at the audacity.
.
Was it a surprise if Regulus fell into another fit of rant that night? And that the subject of his rant was once again one Madeline Crouch, with her irritating words of confidence, her pretty smile, her unmoving gaze of clear blue eyes, her utter faith in him -
It boiled his blood. It pushed him to the edge of insanity full of whys.
Why would she say those things? Why would she think of him capable of a feat no one else was capable of? There was a reason why the Slytherin quidditch team never accepted second year students and below, and that was because the older students had more experience and skills and the slytherin team only accepted the best! So why did she say those things, even saying as far as counting on Regulus to prove Warrington wrong?
He buried his face in his hands at the end of the rant, body sagging on the sofa in his room, and concisely concluded his rant with one question directed at another occupant of the room.
"Is your sister always like that?
Unlike his rant last year, his audience consisted of Rabastan (who truly had grown accustomed with the subject of Madeline Crouch) Evan (because why not?) and last but not least, the brother of the source of Regulus' misery. Barty Crouch was successfully invited to his room with the allure of chocolates, and the boy was currently munching yet another chocolate candy from Regulus' stash as he listened to Regulus' rant. The boy better gave Regulus a satisfying reply worth all those chocolates.
"Being so confident to the point where she thinks she knows everything, even the future?" Barty Crouch said, thoughtfully opening another candy wrap. "Now that I think about it, she does have those moments."
There was a pause.
Regulus waited for the boy to elaborate but Barty Crouch only quietly ate another of his candy. The boy, it seemed, had said all that he had to say. Those two sentences were his reply after hours of rants and an unfair amount of chocolate.
It came to him just then that the Crouch siblings could be equally irritating as one another.
"Relax, Reg," said Evan lightly, his voice sounded as far as he was, sitting on Regulus' bed at the other side of the room with his legs sprawled carelessly, hands playing with his snitch. "I think you're just jittery because you don't want to let her down. You're not actually mad at her, so stop spewing hours of rants about how infuriating his sister is."
Crouch nodded with feeling. "If there is someone who should rant about how infuriating Maddy is, it should be me."
"I think," Rabastan started, closing his book and sitting upright on his bed, "the main question should be: will you listen to her suggestion?"
A sound advice at last. Regulus mulled over this question.
It would be great to get into the team as a second year. It was Regulus' dream, actually, to play quidditch for his house after uncle Alphard told him that he had been a quidditch captain for Slytherin, back in the days. Uncle Alphard also said that not even him was as good as Regulus on the broom at Regulus' age then. It breeds hope in Regulus' heart. Back to the point, Gryffindor was the only house that had ever accepted second years, and that was just because of the occasional talented Weasleys. Slytherin preferred to play it safe and accepted those who were older and more experienced. Perhaps Crouch's words had some truth in it, but it was too small of a probability for them to accept Regulus just because of his supposed talent - and what did Crouch know about his talent anyway? She never saw him play quidditch. In the end, Regulus shook his head reluctantly.
"I can't," he replied finally, teeth gritting. "I would just embarrass myself in front of the quidditch team."
Rabastan sighed, exasperated. The other boy knew of course what Regulus meant by embarrassing himself. It was not that Regulus was afraid that he would perform poorly at the tryout - in fact, Regulus was quite sure that he could excel. But to excel and find that he was still not enough? It would be utterly embarrassing. And if Regulus was bold enough to try out as a mere second year and ended up failing? Even more embarrassing. The embarrassment would have layers in it and it would be devastating to Regulus' pride.
Yet, even knowing this, Rabastan still insisted.
"No you won't. You have the skill. I think Crouch has a point."
Regulus frowned as he took in his words. Rabastan was reasonable, so there must be definite reasons for his opinion. He knew Regulus' scope of skill, and he thought that Regulus wouldn't embarrass himself, which means that Regulus actually had a chance to be accepted into the team even as a second year. Belatedly, Regulus realized that the previous Slytherin seeker, Jugson, was not doing so well. He was only a hasty replacement after Malfoy decided to focus on his NEWTS in his last year. In addition to that, he didn't see anyone with the build of a seeker in the third years. Mulciber, Snape, Rowle, Avery, Macnair. Suffice to say that none of them would be applying for the seeker position - or if they were, the chance would be small for them to be as good as Regulus, so that leaves the previous seeker, Jugson, as his strongest opponent. And Jugson was just not that good.
His mind continued to weigh the pros and cons of him applying for the seeker position, even as his friends started to continue their chatter. There was a chance, he realized, and thanks to Crouch and Rabastan, he didn't dismiss it outright.
"How did she know about regulus' aim to be a seeker, anyway?" He heard Evan ask at one point, to which Barty Crouch only replied dismissively.
"It's Maddy. Best you don't think too hard about what she knows or how she knows things."
Regulus tried to push their chat onto the back of his mind. Crouch had occupied enough space in his mind, and their talk was not helping. He needed to focus his mind.
After all, he had a tryout to pass tomorrow.
.
He got the spot.
It sent him mentally soaring through the sky when Burke announced it.
The news of a new Slytherin seeker spreaded as quick as a forest fire, though the identity remained mysteriously unknown. Regulus didn't know why they had to keep his name out of the news, as it would only be revealed as soon as the quidditch cup was started. But Burke was adamant. A trump card, Burke called him. Regulus was secretly pleased to be called in such reverence.
Not even all the Slytherins knew about his new position. He told Rabastan, of course, but Crouch's knowing look and her discreet smirks told him that she was somehow in the know. Her faith in him was heartwarming. Regulus decided to not disclose the information to those in his year so Crouch could savor the inevitable shocked look on Warrington's face when Regulus played for the Slytherin in the opening game. It would be a sort of gift for her faith in him.
That is if she comes to the game. He hoped she would come to watch.
Not even a week later, someone decided to try to sniff the identity of the new Slytherin seeker out of him as he exited the library.
"You won't get anything from me, in case you're wondering," he mirthfully stated after listening to Sirius' attempt at dilly dallying. They were fastly approaching the grand stairs now, and he really didn't want Sirius to follow him to the dungeon. Merlin knows what troubles Sirius would cause if he were to step onto the nest of the snakes. Sirius hadn't mentioned quidditch even a bit, but Regulus could easily speculate where his conversation was leading to. Once again, his speculation proved to be correct.
"Oh, come on. Not even a clue?"
Sirius' whine was playful, and he could see that his brother depended on their current friendly atmosphere after they both trash talked Malfoy just a couple days ago. He stopped at his step and Sirius followed, stopping only two steps behind him. Regulus turned to face him. His brother was much taller than him now, but Regulus had mastered Mother's cold assessing gaze since he was eight, so it was easy for him to stare down Sirius with it. Three seconds were all it took for Regulus to break down his expressions and align it with what Regulus knew.
"Fishing information for Potter. You really are turning into a lapdog. What is he? A seeker? No, beater? Chaser?" -the pupil of his brother's eyes momentarily shook. Regulus smirked winfully.
"Ah, a chaser."
Never before that Sirius's expression turned cold as fast as it was at that moment.
"If something happens to him before the game, i swear - "
"I don't know what you mean, Sirius," he cut, eyebrows rising. "Something happening before the game? Is that what you're planning for the new slytherin seeker?"
A glimpse of hesitance appeared, and Regulus wanted to laugh. The idea of Sirius trying to help his friend to win by ridding the unknown variable of the game was truly laughable. So much for being a Gryffindor. It was definitely not honorable. Not honorable at all.
Regulus nodded sagely. "Ah. One can take the boy out of Slytherin but I suppose one can not take the Slytherin out of the boy."
"I'm not a Slytherin," Sirius was quick to deny.
"True," Regulus conceded easily, then smirked as he added, "You're a Black."
The scathing glare Regulus received was yet another proof that his brother was indeed his mother's son.
Regulus arched an eyebrow, challenging Sirius to speak again and was disappointed when his brother said nothing more, preferring to glare at Regulus in silence. Pity. A verbal fight between them would be better than last year's silence, though only if the subject was light.
The subject of their mother, Regulus learned from the past, was not light. Unfortunately, Regulus had this visceral want for things to return to the way it was.
"I told Mother who the new seeker is," he said carefully, expression giving away nothing. "Perhaps if you write her a letter and ask nicely, she will tell you the name of this mysterious seeker."
Sirius snorted. "Mysterious. The git must be some pretentious ass if he thought his identity was worth this whole secrecy."
Regulus shrugged.
Both of them parted at the grand stairs, and Regulus involuntarily smirked at hearing Sirius' colorful curse when the stairs he chose moved.
He didn't fail to notice how Sirius avoided the subject of their mother. But at least his brother didn't appear to react negatively to his words.
.
Regulus occasionally got a letter from his mother. Nothing grand in her letter, no warm words or assurance for a growing boy that he was. Just a reminder to report monthly of his progress at school and or of Sirius' behavior. Mostly Sirius' behavior.
Because before he was a boy, Regulus was a Black. Blacks did not need assurance or warm words. Blacks thrived living the life cut-throat. Unfeeling, pitiless. Hardened. Unwavering. Like the color, Black consumed rather than be consumed. So no, Regulus didn't do a lot of feelings and emotions - or at least, he tried to not get used to it.
Which was why the Crouch siblings intrigued him.
There was their habit of greeting. Barty Crouch would make ridiculous faces when the siblings crossed paths in the corridors, and when Regulus asked the younger boy why he did it, Barty Crouch replied as if the answer was supposed to be obvious.
"It makes her smile, doesn't it?"
There was the perpetual kindness in Madeline Crouch's nature and it shone when her brother was nearby. She was nurturing in a way that reminded him of Narcissa, though his cousin was never so open with this trait - Narcissa was a Black, after all.
Then, there was this new information. It was Evan who brought this to his attention: It turned out that Madeline Crouch had been sneaking into the boy's dorm, into his brother's room to be precise, and the siblings would call their mother with a two-way mirror for two hours every friday night. The closeness between the two siblings was already bizarre enough for him to comprehend, and now it was revealed to him that not only were they close to each other, they were also close with their mother as well, even going as far as calling her every week.
"Our father has an emotional range of a teaspoon, or so Maddy aptly described him. Mother would be lonely with only his company at our manor," explained Barty Crouch when Regulus asked him about it.
Regulus let Barty Crouch grab another of his chocolate as he hummed, taking in the boy's words. Unlike his sister, the younger crouch was so open that Regulus felt guilty for prying. Mind you, the boy was not foolishly divulging his family's matter - he was too cunning to do so. No, Barty Crouch just didn't care. Or he wanted to appear not caring. Truly, the fact that the boy was so open yet remained incomprehensible for others was a testament for his cunningness.
Another chocolate was gone, and Barty Crouch continued. "That is if he even comes home. Usually he doesn't bother. The ministry provided him a room to sleep, being the head of DMLE. Honestly, I would not bother with these calls if I didn't experience it myself when Madeline went to Hogwarts last year. Loneliness is a pain and a half."
How could the boy speak of loneliness so candidly? It unsettled Regulus to the point where the other boy read his discomfort.
"What?" The boy smirked. "Not used to hearing others speaking ill of their father?"
He took the out. (Salazar forbid he admitted to being uncomfortable because of feelings -)
"I greatly respect my father, so…"
"How lucky," jested Barty Crouch, and who would have thought? There was an underlying resentment there. Finally, something that Barty Crouch didn't admit so openly. Beneath all his candid act when he spoke of his father, Barty Crouch still cared. It was useful to know.
"My brother can speak at length about my Mother's shortcomings," Regulus offered in return. Crouch tilted his head curiously.
"And you?"
"I prefer peace," he answered truthfully. "Sirius will yell and Mother will yell back. I have no intention of joining them, my throat will be sore for days to end."
The boy opened another chocolate, mind deep in thought. Regulus decided to take a piece as well.
"At least you're not Evan," Crouch said after a pause. It was Regulus' turn to tilt his head, wondering what the boy meant by it. The boy frowned at his apparent confusion.
"He's shaking like a leaf at the mention of his father. Did you never notice?"
.
Regulus, to his greatest shame, never noticed about Evan's attitude towards his father. He had known that Darwin Rosier was strict, in a way that Regulus' mother was strict, but did he underestimate the difference between the strictness of a mother and a father?
The usually relaxed boy stiffened when he opened a gift from his father on his birthday, and he practically froze while he read the notes attached to it. The letter was held as Evan leaned his hand on the surface of the gift box, and he knew now that it was to hide a hint of trembling. If Crouch hadn't brought this to his attention, Regulus would have dismissed his reaction as a shock for receiving a gift. Rabastan threw a questioning glance at him - must have caught Regulus eyeing the Rosier heir - and Regulus shook his head. His friend arched an eyebrow but said nothing.
His eyes turned to another box on Evan's bed. It was small and unassuming, yet something pulled Regulus to it. 'To Evan, Happy Birthday' was written on top of it in tiny size, but upon further look, he paused. Regulus knew this handwriting from everywhere. His mouth moved before his mind.
"Crouch got you a gift?"
The three other boys turned to him. The birthday boy was smug, smirking as he hummed. "A compensation. I have to deal with her brother, after all."
Barty Crouch scrunched his nose. "What about my compensation for dealing with you?"
He didn't pay them any mind. Still shocked, Regulus let them bicker as he opened the gift. Evan's loud protests fell into deaf ears. Inside, there was another note and Regulus gulped.
Happy 12th birthday. Thank you for being a good friend to my brother. I had this idea of making another type of cloud, and who would be a better receiver than a fan of my clouds? :)
It's a decoration for your ceiling. Can be used as a night lamp.
There was another note in the box, an instruction for the clouds, but Regulus's eyes were still fixed on the note on his hand - was that a drawing of a smile? - his mind reading it over and over as if drinking a prayer.
A whistle was what broke him out of his stupor, and he looked up, just in time to see clouds - so many clouds - rose from a flask up to the ceiling. Crouch touched one of them and it bounced away, floating up until the ceiling was full of it. Then, to his greatest surprise, it started to light up, emulating a lightning. A lightning storm in the clouds.
"Decoration indeed," murmured Rabastan. The awe in his voice was palpable.
There was a long pause as the four of them stared at the clouds, silently admiring its beauty.
Regulus knew that Madeline Crouch was brilliant. There was never any doubt of it as she scored outstanding after outstanding in any subject effortlessly, as she talked of endless knowledge gained from thousands of books. But to see the evidence in all these things she made? It was magnificent. Glorious. It felt real and at the same time, unreal. How could she even make something like this? Something thrummed in his chest, making him yearn. Yearn for what, he did not know.
"Nothing new," Evan breathed out quietly, as if any louder would disrupt the beautiful moment they were in. "Another typical day of Madeline, inventing wicked magical pieces when days got boring."
At that, Barty Crouch hummed. "It feels similar to my bouncy cloud, but she added a charm for it to float and copy a lightning storm. I still haven't figured out how she manages to produce the clouds, let alone layering more charms on it."
"She's brilliant."
It was his voice, he realized. To his utter horror, it sounded like how Potter spoke of Lily Evans nowadays. Evan grinned at him, his eyes promising nothing good.
"Reg," he mocked a tut, his delight clear for all to see. "I know you're tempted, but don't go serenading your love to her."
"He wouldn't," Rabastan chimed in before Regulus even processed what Evan said - serenading his what now? - "Can't even ask her to study with him again."
Regulus sobered upon this. The utter disrespect, truly - He scowled at their gall. "Not can't. Won't. I'm not sure if I should impose on her again."
Crouch rolled his eyes.
"Trust me, if you're imposing, you would know. My sister is not one who does something out of her will. If she agrees to study with you, it means she wants to study with you."
"Or maybe just generally don't mind your company," Evan added, obviously speaking from his own experience with Crouch. At least he was self-aware. "You should take advantage if that's the case. Make her like you back."
Regulus blinked.
He believed Evan had said something just then, but unfortunately, there seemed to be a malfunction in his brain. Indeed, his brain had crashed and burned.
"Pardon?"
Crouch frowned. "What? You don't think we don't know, do you?"
No - Yes. What?
Regulus gaped at Crouch. The boy did not look impressed, pursing his lips as he crossed his arms. "I literally befriended you because you like my sister."
"When did i ever say -"
"There's no need for words," he cut, scanning Regulus sharply as if Regulus was a peculiarity. As if it was obvious that this infatuation Regulus had for the boy's sister - his sister, mind you! - had been noticed by the boy without the boy saying anything to him about it! Regulus' incredulity for this situation must have shown - it must have, Regulus hadn't had the mind to hide it - yet the infuriating boy just shrugged. "It's easy to notice if one is looking for the sign."
"And you're okay with this?" Salazar, he was squeaking. His voice cracked.
Could Regulus hide under a rock please?
Evan and Rabastan - those traitors - were enjoying his last bit of sanity slowly being eroded as Barty Crouch took his time answering him. There would be repercussions for throwing him for the loop, this Regulus swore. It hadn't even been three months after Regulus finally admitted to himself that he had a little obsession toward Madeline Crouch. It was a necessity at that time, as Regulus had to learn basic occlumency. He refused to be an idiot in front of Madeline Crouch but learning occlumency meant that he had to accept all his thoughts and emotions to hide them, and surprise surprise, it meant confronting the reason why he was being an idiot in front of Crouch to begin with.
And now he had to deal with her brother.
It could be worse, another voice in Regulus quipped. They could have noticed your infatuation before you even admitted it.
The voice was not as helpful as it liked to think.
"I won't be lacking teasing material if she ends up liking you back," Crouch mused out loud. Finally. The boy added as an afterthought, "you're okay too, I suppose."
The way he said it made Regulus think that Barty Crouch didn't think much at all about this and would be happy to just watch the show. The git, Regulus realized then, must have suspended his answer for the fun of it.
There would be consequences.
"He's okay," parroted Rabastan. "What a glaring recommendation for your friend."
The younger Crouch shrugged.
.
At least all the mortification he endured that night was worth something. Indeed, now that his… attachment to Madeline Crouch was a fact commonly acknowledged between the four of them, they all decided to nudge Regulus to act upon it.
Which resulted in the newly restarted study session between him and Crouch.
Crouch's schedule was even more full than it had been last year, and with Regulus' quidditch practice, it was hard for them to agree upon the day. After a long hour - that felt like it was over too soon for Regulus - They decided that they would only meet once a week, on Thursday after the last period was concluded. Crouch had joked that she hoped that their schedule would last, and told him to pray that Burke would not expect Regulus to live and breathe Quidditch as it could often be the case with quidditch captains. He was amused back then when he heard this.
He was not as nearly as amused now.
Burke, to his utter dismay, was a tyrant. The game was two weeks away, yes, Regulus had gathered that. But must they practice at every waking hour now? Did they not have anything else to do beside Quidditch? On Thursday, Burke had again demanded the team to practice and Regulus regretfully asked Crouch if she mind moving the hour of their study session a bit. Crouch being Crouch, visibly expressed her unimpressed state at the disruption of her schedule but relented as soon as Regulus said he would be winning the game next week for her - or at least, partially for her - so she may have her retribution against Warrington. She even cheered him on.
Regulus might have overdid his practice after that.
And now he was late. Supper had been served, it was in fact finished ten minutes ago, and Regulus was rushing from the quidditch pitch towards the empty classroom they used for their study session in quick stride. He hoped Crouch would still be there or Regulus might curse something in his sight. As he arrived at the door, Regulus paused, calming his composure with a bit of occlumency as he knocked.
Her reply sounded sweet in his ears.
Crouch was reading a book when he finally caught sight of her after opening the door. Mechanically, he closed the door, approached her desk, and sat.
He didn't bring any books.
"Have you eaten dinner?"
Regulus blinked. His mind was clear now. It was a simple question. "I haven't."
Crouch hummed. "I expected that."
With a flair of her wand, a couple of plates approached their desk. Regulus stared at all the food on it. Roasted beef. Gravy. Boiled potato. Yorkshire pudding. Chocolate tart. Cauldron cakes.
Warmth trickled in his chest. It was very thoughtful of her, Regulus was actually famished after the practice Burke put him through. And all those dessert -
"Thank you," he choked out, gratefulness thick in his voice. "You didn't have to."
Her smile was soft. Regulus had to distract himself with all the food.
Crouch ate some of the cauldron cakes as she read, while Regulus feasted on the meal Crouch saved for him. They were still warm, he realized. Crouch's thoughtfulness once again astounded him. Regulus had thought she would be angry at him for being late, but that's not what happened at all. No, she went beyond and prepared for him a feast. A feast with his favorite desserts.
And she sat there, looking pretty, as if what she did didn't send Regulus' mind in utter chaos.
They talked about the recent potion discussed in the class as Regulus ate. At one point, Crouch had put her book down and gave him all her attention. Salamander blood had never been as interesting as when Crouch explained all its unique traits and various possible substitutes for it. She asked him what he thought of kava as its substitute and Regulus could see the appreciation in her eyes as he spoke of its effect on the consciousness of the drinker, that one had to add one or two ingredients to counter that effect and add its potency as it wouldn't be as effective as Salamander blood. All of his internal grumbling about Burke had been left forgotten as they spoke until time seemed to fly by.
"Your hair seems to be very well-mannered," she said out of the blue, her eyes fond. "I know someone whose hair will be a rioting mess after a few minutes of flying."
"Your brother?" He mocked guessed good naturedly, because who else would it be?
Yet, there was a story hidden behind her clear eyes, a glimpse of gold that teased him of the untold. It was Crouch, after all. Wouldn't be her without all the allure of mystery.
The smile she sent him was radiant.
He could get used to this.