Genetics • Sirius Black

Chapter Forty Four: Under Pressure.

Just above a whisper, Regulus Black muttered to Freya Grey as he guided them through the dance floor. "Try to be a little more subtle about your judgmental-ness."

Lightly, he turned them away from most of the crowd, indifferent to the eyes they naturally attracted, but Freya seemed to be actively scanning the room like a hawk. Latching and pulling at details with her eyes, unimpressed with her findings.

"That is just the nature of my face." She replied, eyes snagging on Xenophillius's sparkling outfit. It was so yellow.

"No, it is not." A sigh was withheld in his chest. "It is the nature of some people's faces. My cousin for example, but not yours."

Her gaze snapped to his, slightly offended. "I am a very judgmental person."

"No, you're not." The younger boy insisted, a touch of annoyance in his words.

"Then what am I?" She questioned.

The two stared at each other for a stiff moment, and then Regulus felt a hand on his shoulder. A tendon in his throat pushed against his skin and his hands lightly tightened on his friend. "Mind if I cut in, Black?" At first, Regs did not turn, despite Freya's eyes leaving him for Barty Crouch Jr.'s. Barty's pretty face had a kind smile on it and his ring gleamed under the yellow light, he looked perfectly elite.

Jaw clenched, Regs had an expression that rivaled his mother's in coldness as he turned to the other boy. "Ask her that."

Keeping his polite tone, Barty playfully turned to Freya. "Freya, may I cut in?"

Freya shot Regs a look, he did not see since he was focused on his shoes. Silently, Freya attempted to communicate with him, but it was as though he had shielded his mind. Somewhat confused and concerned, Freya gave Barty a respectful nod. "Yes, of course." Quickly, the Black heir left the dance floor and Barty took his place, but Barty's gaze trailed after him. That was rude, Freya thought to herself, and strange. "Sorry, Regs is just tired."

"It's alright, I'd be a little snippy too if someone tried to stop me from dancing with a beautiful girl." He flirted and Freya raised a brow.

"Beautiful." She let the word settle in her mouth. "Have you any other adjectives?"

He shrugged. "Stunning. Gorgeous. Smart." A twinkle came to his eyes, and Freya knew he loved being charming. "I'll write you a book if you like, though if I did, I'd have to sneak in a little vain."

"Only a little?" She inquired.

"Yes, yes, only a little." Dragging his bottom lip between his teeth, he looked down at her. "And what would you put in my book?"

"Charming." She started, then thought about it. "Well-dressed. Amicable. Intelligent."

"No, handsome?" He tsked his tongue, and she shrugged. The smile on his face broadened. "I must try harder next time."

"Next time?" Freya asked.

"They'll always be a next time." He said confidently as the song finished, then walked her over to the drinks table. "Now, forgive me, but Muliciber seems desperate to tell me something, and I fear his head may explode if he doesn't." She nodded and he winked, then left.

Freya did not want to seem useless and grabbed some punch from the table. It was very sweet on her tongue.

A girl with pin-straight red hair leaned over to Freya. "I think you two will be an enviable match."

Freya's instinct was to pull away, but she grounded herself in her spot as she inspected the young girl. She had a sweet face, and large eyes, almost like a doll. Her dress was black and laced up to her neck. "Alecto Carrow."