❝ 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨. ❞
The girl with the silver-blonde hair lived up to her family name Malfoy. Camille Malfoy was proud, well brought up and for...
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• Regulus Black •
„You are summer to my winter heart."
Regulus hardly listened when Professor McGonagall told the class about Animagi, although he had sworn to his mother that his grades would be even better this year. But he simply couldn't concentrate, not when Camille sat exactly one row in front of him and her perfume rose to his nose every time she tossed back her silky hair.
The young Black could still clearly remember how a wide smile had crept onto his lips when he had spotted the cheering blonde during the Quidditch match. They had been so close that day and now she seemed so far away again.
Their lips had almost touched, missing by mere inches, maybe millimetres, when they had parted and Camille had looked at him almost similarly startled out of her turquoise eyes. Almost...
"Miss Malfoy, you go to Mr Black," the professor finally brought him out of his thoughts in her parting stern voice. "Mr Avery, you go to Miss McDonald and so on. Every other seat in the row slides back one. Get to work!"
Restless, Regulus' eyes darted around the room. What had just happened? He cursed himself for not paying attention to his teacher and now not knowing why his best friend was leaving him. Exasperated, he nudged Alaric as he stood up. "What shall we do?"
"Partner work, Reg. Where have you been with your thoughts again?" he replied reprovingly, but an amused smirk played around his thin lips, for he had long been used to this behaviour from him.
Regulus sighed and watched his class partially change their seats as Camille sat down right next to him. He had almost forgotten that fact. He felt the excitement creep into his throat and form a dense lump there. Don't be an idiot, he thought, and almost choked on his own spit at the same moment. "Hey, there."
"Regulus," the blonde greeted him with a nod of her head, her scent hitting his nose once more. Without another glance from her turquoise eyes at him, she turned to the task at hand, nibbling at her quill as if she was as uncomfortable with the moment as he was.
The dark-haired boy risked a surreptitious glance at her neatly sweeping handwriting on the parchment and almost groaned inwardly, for the assignment sounded elaborate, very much so, and seemed almost impossible to accomplish in just the remaining hour.
Describe on 5 rolls of parchment the phases of human transformation and enumerate possible risks that could occur in case of a mistake and how they could be prevented.
As if Camille had read his mind, she looked up with a cautious smile. "As if McGonagall would have guessed it, right?" she asked with a smirk, laughing abruptly brightly. "How fitting that we'll be seeing a lot of each other during the holidays anyway."
