- ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴜs ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ
"You. Me. Hogsmeade. Tomorrow" Romie demands, leaving no room for objection.
Regulus slowly lifts his head from his book, briefly wondering if he's managed to land himself into a similar alternate dimension,
"Come again...
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꧁✧✧✧꧂
𝕴t's in the early hours when it happens.
Romie's long kissed goodnight the cheeks of the faces that come to mind when the term parents is mentioned, and completed her night time routine consisting of shower and skin care. Long tucked herself up in bed with her treasured copy of Winnie the Pooh and cast a silencing charm in case she happens to doze off straight into a nightmare. Which Thank Merlin she did.
Because the very first thing she does when something knee high with bat-like ears suddenly appears in the dark shadows of her bedroom, is scream.
Heart in her throat, she scrambles for the wand she, without fail, leaves on her night stand for instances just like this, turning on the light. It's then, scream number two tears out of her throat, because the newfound light reveals the something knee high with bat-like ears isn't alone. Floating a metre or so above its head, seemingly unconscious, a lofty figure, dressed from head to toe in black and red.
Scream number three, is much less out of shock and more along the lines of horror. Because upon further inspection, the lofty figure has distinct features Romie couldn't forget even in her hundredth lifetime and the last time she checked, clothing dye doesn't randomly start dripping from the fabric one day.
"Kreacher recalls Master mentioning Young Mistress had eyes like Medusa but not voice like a banshee"
Violet eyes, round and wide, jump back to the something knee high with bat-like ears, recognising the physical traits that also belong to the friendly little helpers behind the ticklish pear. His little face, however, is free of anything remotely close to friendliness.
"Young Mistress recalls Master mentioning House Elf is a crabby little sod. So, would the crabby little sod like to tell Young Mistress his reason for cropping up in her bedroom at the dead of night without any notice?"
Whether he's offended by her fiery attitude, as intense as ever despite the hour, or the nice term of endearment, he doesn't show any signs of it. Just stares at her through unimpressed, squinted eyes, muttering,
"Master Regulus only forbade Kreacher from healing. Young Mistress is able"
Without any further input from Romie, he snaps his fingers, carefully transporting the floating, unconscious — bleeding — body of Regulus from the air onto her mattress and vanishes. A string of swears fly out of her lips, the majority calling the gone House Elf. But then she does a quick scan of the boy already stirring, presumably from a stunning spell cast to prevent any more forbidding, and understands.
Romie wouldn't stick around either if the fate of his health didn't fall on her shoulders. He looks within an inch of his life, the cuts littering his skin nasty and the bruises purpling beneath them ugly. It's no pleasant sight for a life long best friend. It's no pleasant sight for an ex either, no matter how badly things ended. Especially when he begins to wheeze, struggling to breathe.
