drowning! → regulus black

dining with the enemy.

Laura's blue hues narrow at Regulus. "Why do you want to know?"

Regulus crosses his arms, and Laura notices that he's taken off his coat when his biceps go taunt against his white dress shirt. Laura wants to roll her eyes at the poshness of having a dress shirt on as an undershirt. "Blacks are supposed to have tact. He, obviously, does not, considering he's supposed to be close with you and yet you're crying because of him— quite pathetically if I might add."

"So?"

Regulus sends Laura an unimpressed look. "So, what concerns my brother concerns me. If he's out and about, tarnishing the Black name with his disloyalty toward his friends, my name is tarnished as well." He peers down at Laura, or more so her bloodshot eyes. "What exactly did he do to you?"

Laura scowls. "I already told you. He was an arsehole."

"Yes, Lovegood, we've already established that. I'm asking what he did." Regulus responds, eyes cutting into Laura firmly.

Laura fingers a hole in her sweater, feeling like a child being reprimanded. "He was mad at me for lying to him, and he accused me of spying on the Gryffindors."

Regulus snorts. "You're not even smart enough to write an essay, much less concoct a bloody plan to spy on people. He gives you too much credit."

Laura glares at Regulus. "Y'know, not everything you say has to be an insult."

"Oh, but it does, Lovegood."

Laura lets out an irritated huff as she settles back into the wall, surprisingly comfortable as she sits in front of Regulus. He glances at the motion for a second, seemingly deep in thought. Laura frowns uneasily when his eyes suddenly brighten. 

"Want to get even with him?"

"HAS ANYONE EVER told you that you're a really bad influence?"

Regulus rolls his eyes. "You're doing this on your own accord. If I were influencing you, that would require persuasion, which would imply that I cared enough to spend time conversing with you— which I do not."

"Well, you're conversing with me right now, aren't you?" Laura hums, careful not to brush arms with Regulus as they take a swift turn around a bustle of students.

"This doesn't count," Regulus says dismissively. "I'm merely indulging in small talk due to boredom."

Laura snorts. "That's still conversing."

"It is not."

"Is too—"

"No." Regulus cuts Laura off as they both reach the doors to the Great Hall. "It's not. Now, do you remember what we're doing?"

"Instead of going to the Gryffindor table, I'm going to walk right past it and sit at the Slytherin table," Laura repeats. Normally, she wouldn't take part in something this petty, but she feels like in this case, it's the right thing to do.

"Good." Regulus, in a surprising show of physical amiability, links Laura's arm with his. He chuckles when Laura sends him a disgusted look and ducks his head down to whisper in her ear as he pushes the door to the dining hall open. "Don't fret, Lovegood— just imagine how well this will piss off your so-called friends."

Laura nods stiffly as Regulus raises his head, leading her directly past the Gryffindors and to his table instead. She can't bring herself to look at Sirius or Marlene, who are both sitting on the side that she passes by, but she can feel their stares burning into her as she reluctantly sits down in between Rosier and Regulus. 

Evan grins and claps Laura on the back. "M'proud of you, Lovegood. You've finally come to your senses!" He exclaims. Laura shoves him away with a scowl, but for some reason, the idea of someone being proud of her still sends a semblance of warmth down her spine. It's disgusting.

Carrow eyes her with considerable loathing. "Why'd you bring trash over here, Reg?"

Regulus briefly looks at Alecto. "Charity."

The Slytherin table, once teeming with chatter, goes completely silent as students stare at her somewhat apprehensively. Laura rolls her eyes and snatches a muffin from one of the baskets before biting it irritably. 

Dorcas clears her throat awkwardly. "Y'know, ever since Dora graduated, she's been sending me letters, asking how you are. It'd be nice to finally maybe be able to tell her something worthwhile."

Laura looks down at her muffin guiltily. They'd all been friends before Pandora had left— even Barty used to come over to the Lovegood manor for their Christmas galas, and he'd always stick something under their tree for Laura.

Somehow, she misses it.

"Yeah, that'd be nice."

"Anywhore, did you hear that Crower Desnick found a dead Shrike in his stocking drawer? That's the third dead bird this week," Evan grins, mouth full of bangers and mash. 

Regulus seems to stiffen next to Laura and she frowns. "Third time?"

Evan leans back lazily. "Nothing new. Last time, it was a Thrasher, and the blood took weeks to get out. Fucking shame, it was. I had to throw away my best scarf."

Dorcas sends Laura a smirk. "Let me tell you, tiny Dora, we nearly threw a party when he incinerated that scarf. It was the same shade as a bloody bogey."

Evan scoffs. "Was not. My mum got it for me specially made, 'cause it matched my eyes."

Regulus snorts. "Your mum also wears feather boas and calls it fashion. I wouldn't take her clothing advice even if it meant she'd give me a Nimbus 1987."

"Josh on you, my mum knows nothing about brooms, so fat chance of that happening."

"How is that a josh on me?"

"Dunno."

Laura lets out an uncomfortable cough. "I think I'm going to go back to my dorm." She gets up to leave, but Regulus snatches her arm and pulls her back down. 

"You are not going to cower back to your dorm just to be verbally abused by my pathetic excuse of a brother again. Revenge takes time, and you aren't going to fucking ruin it," Regulus hisses. He looks back up at Dorcas. "Meadowes, do you mind if Lovegood sleeps in Dora's old bed for a bit? The Gryffindors are being fickle and all it's doing is collecting dust."

Laura's eyes widen incredulously as Regulus quickly nudges her, wiping the stunned expression off her face. Dorcas brightens. "A sleepover? Fuck yeah."

author's note- honestly, this was the only good draft for this chapter that i could muster. also, i blame the poor writing and plot liquidation on my head injury.
-♡, lottie