꧁ʙᴏʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜʀᴘʟᴇ꧂

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 16

It's spiteful and bitchy and amplifying to loud giggles when Anna decides to jeer back, encouraged by her prissy friends,

"Is that all you've got? Pretty pathetic if you ask me"

They come to a sharp halt, however, changing to stupidly overdramatic gasps when, whilst lowering her arms back down to form a comfortable rest for her head, Romie bites back,

"Pretty pathetic is being that incompetent the best insult you can offer is on my appearance"

Romie didn't have to look to know that the smug smile once plastered across Anna's face had been wiped clean off, cheeks growing hot with humiliation. The silence is loud, beautiful really, enough to make one think that the snake has retreated, slithered back into it's hole where it belongs, leaving nothing but peace for rest. Romie knows better, Anna Pucey isn't that wise, wouldn't be able to comprehend that riling up Romie right now wouldn't serve her well.

"I can offer more. I can offer more than you ever could, and you know that's the truth. That's why you can't face me" Anna sneers, arms crossing over her chest like it's the greatest power move in the world.

Regulus thinks for a brief second that Romie isn't going to entertain her, refusing to give her the time of day, just this once. No, never. That would be foolish thinking, if there's one thing he does know about Romie Lupin, it's that, that insufferably stubborn arse of hers won't allow her to back away from a challenge. Intimidatingly slowly, her head finally raises from the desk, and oh, Regulus quickly understands why she'd been in that position all along.

Because her eyes are glowing. Not just any old glow that you read about in poetry sonnets written by lovestruck idiots, this was different. This was more. Like the Fiendfyre curse has been casted upon them, uncontrollable and irrepressible flames coming to life, craving a taste of mass destruction. And they're violet. Violet, violet, oh so violet that it makes Regulus want to slam his own eyes shut to protect them.

He doesn't. He couldn't. She's rising up, tall and long like the devouring beasts the flames of the supreme dark curse morph into. Anna should surrender, run with her tail between her legs, but she's so blinded by resentment and jealously that she steps forward, squaring up against the devastatingly enthralling Gryffindor.

It all happens in a blur. Regulus doesn't know who cast the first spell, or second or third, but then they're duelling, hurling incessant hexes, jinxes and curses at each other. No one's left sitting, finding safety on the outskirts of the classroom, far out of the way of the spells being deflected right, left and centre. Lame Professor Lightfoot's even awoken from her dinosaur slumber for the occasion, fingers crossed underneath her desk she doesn't end up jinxed this time.

Regulus doesn't realise how engrossed he is until Evan appears out of nowhere, bumping him rather giddily,

"How you feeling, Reg?"

"Spectacular" He retorts sarcastically, fixing his friend with an odd look for his random timing of bizarre questioning.

An arm slings over his shoulders on the opposite side, Barty filling up his lungs in one absurdly huge inhale, as though the face-off they're spectating is the most refreshing breath of air. A smirk dangles from his lips when he glances in Regulus' direction, pealing,

"Two gorgeous girls fighting over you. What a life to live"

Regulus' insisting response that Anna or Romie, he doesn't exactly know which he was going for, isn't gorgeous, dies in his throat, fully processing what Barty's was insinuating. Him. They're fighting over him, fighting for him, that's what Barty's thinking, what Evan and Pandora are thinking, he realises, spying the according looks on their faces. Something unfamiliar pulls at his chest and he swiftly re-focuses on the duel to check for himself.