X. Yule Break

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The watch stands for the Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match were brimming in excitement, the student body's energy revitalized by the appointment of Ron as Gryffindor's keeper. Standing next to Hermione, you can't help the exhilaration that swims through your veins, glad that there was a buffer in the grim mood that shadowed over the school year.

The sharp fweet of Madam Hooch's whistle signals the start of the match, and enthusiastic shouts begin to erupt from all around you. These cheers only grew in volume as Ron's flawless performance became apparent to all the watchers.

You hadn't realized your friend was this good.

As if reading your thoughts, Hermione leans over to you as Ron manages to knock away the quaffle again, "Harry dosed him with Felix Felicis during breakfast."

Quirking your head at the revelation, your eyes follow Ginny's zipping figure around the field, thoroughly impressed by both Weasleys' playing.

"Somehow I doubt that. Harry's sweet, but he's not wasteful. There are better things to use the concoction on, no?" Hermione doesn't respond to your words, but you feel her shift at the implications of them, likely agreeing.

If your friend group were leading ordinary lives, using Felix Felicis on arbitrary things like Quidditch matches would be fine, if not expected, but with Voldemort lurking about, the liquid could probably be put to better use.

As the game continues on, you're hardly surprised when Gryffindor begins to lead by a landslide before ultimately coming out victorious. As everyone explodes in celebration, you quickly slink away from the boisterous crowd, not quite in a partying mood. You had heard Dean talking before the match, and he had mentioned that the party would be open to any house–though, you didn't suspect many Slytherins would attend anyway.

You figured that the celebration would drag on for hours on end which gave you quite some time to wander without peering eyes.

Roaming the grounds of the castle for a while, you feel lonelier than usual, not having Regulus in your pocket. Despite the boy's history as a quidditch player himself, he opted to remain in your dorm, stating that he needed peace and quiet. You couldn't fault him, the both of you were feeling unnerved with every passing day as Harry seemed to pointedly avoid the topic of Regulus' existence.

A part of you hoped that he perhaps forgot about the whole ordeal or thought it to be trivial, but you knew he was likely just busy with trying to con Slughorn.

Feeling the chill of the weather bite at your fingers, you decide to make your way back inside the castle. As you quietly pad through the halls, you're shaken from your thoughts as a deep voice echoes around the walls, "L/N. Surprised to see you here."

Spinning around, you see a familiar figure walking towards you with a small smirk. The faint sag in his shoulders was the only indication that he was fatigued from the quidditch match.

"Zabini. Shouldn't you be off sulking with the rest of the Slytherin team?" Your words are tinged with amusement and you spin back around, knowing that the boy would eventually catch up to you.

As you round the corner, Blaise manages to fall into step with you, "Moping has never been a strong suit of mine."

"I suppose tantrums would mar that whole quintessential gentility image you have going on. What about comfort? Is that something you're adept with?" You weren't sure what exactly you were hoping to achieve from the conversation, but becoming familiar with the Slytherin may prove beneficial in the future.

Blaise lets out a quiet chuckle at your words, "Are you asking me to console you, L/N?"

"Forget me, you're not really my type. It's your little peacock who seems awfully peaky as of late. He nearly bit my head off in the library the other day." You roll your eyes, recalling the strange encounter you had with the Malfoy heir.

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐍  | Regulus Black x ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now