꧁ʙᴏʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜʀᴘʟᴇ꧂

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 39

꧁✧✧✧꧂

𝕽omie yawns quietly as she exits the History of Magic classroom, taking the offered hand.

It's used as an invitation to snatch her in close, practically glueing their sides together. It could certainly be a move based on his possessive declaration at the last Gryffindor party, but that wouldn't explain his odd behaviour all morning. Wary glances around, constantly on his toes. He hadn't even dozed off to Professor Binns' droning lecture.

Now she thinks of it, hardly anyone had, choosing to fill the boring hour whispering between friends. Whilst that was of little concern to Romie, this was a different story.

"What's the matter with you? You're acting like—"

She stops before the sentence is finished, remembering who she's talking to. What they do and don't know. Briefly breaking observation of the hallway ahead, Regulus quirks an eyebrow, prompting,

"Like?"

Like how she should be acting around now. Shifty, cagey, on one's guard. The side effects from the full moon don't stop the second dawn breaks, there's a gradual decline back down to what's considered normal functioning. The intricate state of emotional turmoil persists, and he's only adding to the confusing mix.

"Nothing" She disregards, head shaking.

Regulus didn't appear to mind the subject being dropped, yet another thing that's odd. He possess indisputably the biggest spirit of inquiry Romie's ever encountered in her sixteen years of being, and if she had anything to do with it, the children's likeable character named Curious George would be renamed Curious Regulus. More fitting.

He pulls her out of the way of two students racing past you'd imagine were giddy first years, overly keen to be the first to arrive to their next lesson. No first years in sight, just Evan and Barty. Romie watches as they push and shove and skid around the corner, somehow full of beans. From her knowledge, they're not supposed to be full of beans, more out and desperate for beans.

Frowning faintly, she turns to Regulus, murmuring, "Sorry I missed your practice, I—"

But before the whole explanation is made known, Regulus is talking again, her frown deepening when he informs, "Didn't miss anything. I cancelled"

"You cancelled? Why?" She inquires, sensing there must be an important reason.

Cancelling an early morning Quidditch practice last minute when nice, warm, cosy beds have already been left can't have boosted his levels of popularity amongst the Slytherins. Pale eyes remaining forward fixed, Regulus shrugs, brushing off,

"Something came up I needed to take care of"

A sigh escapes him when he loses the company of the warm body next to his, the arm and fingers connected to his tugging him back to where the feet refusing to move are planted firmly. Romie peers up at him, violet eyes stuck between widening and narrowing.