in which hollis rosier falls asleep in the wrong compartment
or the right one, depending on who you ask
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part one of two
editing closed, logged off wattpad (sorry only like half of it is edited, but its obviously still all good)
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song of the chapter - "bruises" by lewis capaldi
"anyone else"
While most of the other Slytherins were in the Great Hall for lunch, Regulus sat on the midnight dragonhide couch with plumes of silvery smoke blowing gracefully out of his mouth. Nothing about the way he felt about Hollis had ever extended past a deep friendship, or so he had believed until a few nights ago.
Smoking seemed to help the pain go away, the heated inhales matching the slight burns on his fingers from where he had allowed the cigarette to get just a little too close.
When Hollis had accidentally, but completely truthfully, said that she loved Remus, he instantly regretted every step he had ever helped them move forward. He thought it would die out, the struggle too deep for them to continue. He thought Hollis might have realized that he was the one who understood her, not Lupin. Hoped, he realized. He had hoped.
Now it was clear that the declaration had brought out a side of him that had been previously hidden, but very much alive.
It didn't seem fair to him that Hollis loved Remus while he, not Lupin, was the one that knew almost everything about her. That boy had been sitting in his nice little cottage in the woods, no worries in mind, while Hollis was taking horrific mental and physical torture that would have killed a person any weaker to be with him. He had no idea the risks Hollis was taking and the pieces of herself she was sacrificing to love who she wanted, to love that stupid boy who hadn't given up shit for her. Lupin didn't deserve Hollis, he didn't even understand half of what was going on in her life, he couldn't understand her.
And he didn't deserve her either.
No one does, he thought. But I do sure as hell more than Lupin.
Standing up quickly from the couch, Regulus threw his cigarette into the fire with as much resentful force as he could. The smoldering cylinder hit the stone back of the fireplace with a surprisingly hard collision, crumpling into the flickering fire with a crackle of crisp ash.
The rage still building in his chest, he angrily exited the Slytherin common room, slamming the dark wooden door behind him so hard that the bang echoed all the way down the corridor, silver hinges shuddering.
Upon the first hanging, embroidered tapestry he saw, Regulus pulled out his wand and furiously slashed apart the thick fabric depicting a basilisk striking a group of kneazeles in thousands of strands of dark green thread.
The fabric tore apart with several loud rips, the red light slicing through the thickness as easily as if it was ink-soaked parchment. After a few more seconds, he let his hand fall down to his side and looked up at the damage he had caused with both satisfaction and tension. Regulus slid his wand back into the emerald interior of his robes, his shoulders heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
