- ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴜs ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ
"You. Me. Hogsmeade. Tomorrow" Romie demands, leaving no room for objection.
Regulus slowly lifts his head from his book, briefly wondering if he's managed to land himself into a similar alternate dimension,
"Come again...
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𝕽omie's still pulling on a shoe as she sprints out the portrait hole.
Time was not on her side today, the ticking hands of the clock cackling at her expense. If last night's plans had gone her way, there wouldn't have been any issues as of right now, but because trunk packing was seemingly impossible to achieve whilst she's the company, she's running late. Extremely late.
Her converse squeak noisily as she whirls around the corner, startling the Professor that's grown one too many grey hairs in the years she and the Marauders have ruled the school. Despite Mcgonagall's warning to slow down, Romie remains at the racing pace, throwing an arm overhead to both wave and give a thumbs up to the Head of House after a reminder that she's expected later in her office at three on the dot is added.
Regulus hadn't been the only punisher Romie was forced to face for physically fist fighting the wretched circle of Slytherins, Mcgonagall had caught wind of the brawl, sentencing a few detentions here and there. Not the most horrendous sanction in the book, the one on one time spent perfecting human transfiguration fairly enjoyable. One would be a complete fool not to enjoy turning the Deputy Headmistress' eyebrows luminous orange.
She bristles slightly when a hand suddenly brackets around her elbow, bringing her to a sharp halt. Checking the identity of the perpetrator is unnecessary, Romie could, with a snap of the fingers, recognise that touch from anywhere. Not many could say such rough calluses often bring a big sense of comfort.
"Bugger off, Remus-John, I'm late"
"Which you'll be in more ways than one if you don't listen to me right now"
One sentence and Romie's already greatly affronted, scoffing as she reels around to face the award winner for delightfulness. At his side, Sirius winces, scratching the nape of his neck, exposed from today's choice of hairstyle. A wand securing loose bun, a particular style that has a certain desired effect on a certain chocolate loving werewolf.
"I'm not sure I'd have started off like that, Moons" He mutters, miming zipping shut his lips and throwing away the key instantly after earning that side glare.
Sighing, Remus returns his focus to his little sister, paying no mind to the ten times more severe glare attacking the broken shells of his soul. Zipping shut his lips and throwing away the key was non negotiable for the matter at hand. Snatching free her elbow from his grasp, Romie not so gently points out,
"Are you implying I'm a slut? Because last time I checked I wasn't the Lupin referred to as the Casanova of the Gryffindor Tower"
Blatantly, Sirius wolf whistles, striking silver eyes dancing up and down his best friend's figure. Lanky and gangly in other people's lame opinions, smoking hot in his worthy one. It's both Lupins that side glare him this time, but Sirius isn't too deterred, feeling pretty invincible at the visible pink dusting across Remus' scarred cheeks.
