philophobia-the fear of falling in love
or becoming emotionally connected
to someone...
~~~
This is a story you've heard before, passed down through generations, about a young girl and a young boy who utterly despise each other.
Then, somehow, t...
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xii||the black lake
Avalyn's words from the night she got the detention with Regulus have played on Maria's mind a lot. It's mid November now and Maria has had frequent meetings with the youngest Black brother — some planned, some just coincidentally showing up on the astronomy tower at the same time. She's learnt a few things about him, like how his favourite colour is actually red and how he actually likes to draw and paint. He also likes quite a bit of muggle music, unbeknownst to his strict pure blood parents, and is fascinated by some of the muggles inventions — he's even secretly taking muggle studies.
Regulus Black is hardly an open book, no more like a leather book with five belts strapped around and locks with padlocks that he's thrown the keys away to. But Maria has usually been good at picking locks.
Regulus had often though of Maria Potter over the dismal, cold, rainy days of the fortnight after their detention. He's learnt that her favourite colour is actually orange, but not a disgusting orange, more like the orange that sits on the horizon as the sun sets behind the hills of the astronomy tower. He's learnt that she loves to write, even keeps a journal. He always teases her about that, saying how inside there will be paragraphs upon paragraphs of her secret love for him.
Maria did not find this funny, merely sarcastically laughed with an eye roll, saying — yet again — that she'd hurl herself off the tower if that was even close to the truth.
Regulus can also feel the locks around his true self begging to be clicked open by Maria Euphemia Potter. He can see it in her eyes every time that she speaks to him, he notices the way her lips twitch up slightly with his sarcasm that mixes perfectly with hers. He can see that she wants him so desperately to open himself up to her, so she can see the real Regulus Black.
But those locks are stiff and rusted, not been opened ever since he'd threw away the keys back in his second year when Sirius has started acting differently towards him and treated him more like a stranger and James and the other marauders like his brothers.
He has to give points to her, Maria is anything other than an open book herself. He admires that. Not because he doesn't want her to let him in, of course he does deep down. But he can't help but wonder if it's best she doesn't. There's no point in trying to deny the obvious fact that his parents are conversing with Lord Voldemort and will more than likely be forcing their only son to get the serpent mark on his left forearm as soon as he turns seventeen.
Regulus hates to admit it, but he is scared.
Just like Maria hates to admit that she is also terrified. Terrified for her family, her friends, even Regulus. Terrified of what the future holds for her, or her brother.
So now, Maria Potter is strolling through busy courtyard on the unexpected warm November day, her hair braided down her head in a rather messy plait. Then, she furrows her eyebrows when she sees Regulus Black speaking in hushed tones with Evan Rosier and Gasper Avery.
