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"𝕿hese seats taken?"
Romie glances up from her dinner plate, arching a brow at the broad smiling faces of the three Gryffindor girls in the year above.
"You never ask to sit near me" She says, feeling a twist of suspicion in her chest. Lily, ever the unfailingly kind sweetheart, shrugs a shoulder, replying,
"This isn't your usual spot. We thought better to ask than intrude if you needed space"
She was right. This wasn't Romie's usual spot at the Gryffindor table, having opted for a more central spot than near the grand, oak entrance doors to the hall. But it wasn't because she needed space. It was because there was only so much tolerance she had for seventh year boys thinking they had more control over her than they had. Romie was no puppet on a string that needed a master, she was the master of herself, quite capable of making her own decisions and choices. And those decisions and choices needed to be respected, whether they were good ones or not.
The Marauders weren't respecting her decisions and choices. The girls, on the other hand, had never given Romie any reason to suspect ulterior motives.
"You can sit" She agrees, smiling faintly as all three flopped down on the bench at once, helping themselves to the delicious dinner spread.
Noticing the lack of canary yellow amidst the sea of crimson red, Mary wonders curiously, "Where's Hestia?"
A knowing grin worms onto Romie's face, head tilting backwards in the direction of the badger table on the other side of Ravenclaw's, where Pandora and Xenophilius are quietly chatting. Nosily, Lily, Mary and Marlene's eyes looked over, taking in the sight of a rather flustered Hestia Jones, exchanging shy whispers with clever and bright Amelia Bones, shoulders pressed together.
Marlene hums, not-so discreetly checking out the undeniably gorgeous brunette, "Cracking choice. Fantastic chaser too"
Lily sighs, emerald eyes rolling, "There's more to a person than Quidditch, Marlene"
"You're saying that, but those hunky biceps of Potter's you were eyeing up the other day are from Quidditch" Marlene retorts, flexing her own arm, showing off the generous muscle she's been working on building.
A red the similar shade to her hair fills Lily's cheeks, hurriedly leaning over the table to hush, "Shh! Not so loud!"
Mary's smile grew three times bigger, shoulders beginning to shimmy in a teasing manner, "And she's not denying it!"
If humanly possible, Lily turned redder, glaring fiercely at the other three girls now grinning like cheshire cat's, knowing that they've caught her out. Marlene's quickly morphed into a smirk, a devious smirk that matches the sinful sparkle in her eyes when she goads,
"It's alright, Lils, you can admit it. You think Potter's hot"
"I do not! Shut up!" Lily hisses, flashing a fast glance to her left, down to the table to check if it's necessary to say a silent prayer to Death to come and retrieve her right this second.
Because if James Potter had somehow heard that she feels even the slightest bit of attraction towards him, that she thinks in some way he's not too bad on the eyes, that would be it. Her whole life would be over, not even eighteen years old. A cooling sigh of relief escapes her upon the realisation he hadn't, too busy competing with Sirius to see who can balance the spoon on their nose the longest. He loses. Loses not just the competition, but his focus too. Because then his head is turning, turning right to where Lily's watching, as though he'd sensed those bright green eyes he'd written too many poems to count about on him.
When he meets her gaze, the corners of his mouth upturn and he gives a friendly nod of acknowledgment, returning back to his friends. No beaming grin that makes her eyes hurt, no sudden embarrassing serenade up on the table, no asking about the upcoming Hogsmeade trip. Just a light smile and friendly nod. And because that's all it was, Lily found herself smiling back, that was until she hears,
"I do not! Shut up!" Marlene mimics in high pitch, proceeding to drool at the mouth and make heart eyes to the oblivious boy.
Lily flushes again, huffing, as she spoons up some veg, "Give it a rest. We're friends, nothing more"
"I wasn't saying you were anything more. I was saying that you have the hots for him and those big, strong muscles" Marlene corrects, jabbing her fork in her direction, earning another eye roll and huff from Lily.
Romie smiles down at her own plate, feeling a strong surge of affection for the Gryffindor girls. This was them, this was normal. They're not acting any different, not being off with her because she's supposedly dating a Slytherin. Just Lily, Marlene and Mary.
"What about you Romie?"
Her head lifts, eyebrows furrowing at Mary's question. Bringing the glass of water up to her lips asking confusedly before sipping, "What about me?"
Mary exchanges a glance with the other two girls, communicating in a way that makes Romie's happiness falter slightly. The curly haired witch leans forwards, explaining,
"The whole Quidditch thing. You must be into it"
Because she's dating Regulus.
Whilst her shoulders want to deflate, sink into herself in disappointment because she thinks she knows where this is going, she doesn't let them. Instead, she does the opposite, keeps them firm, rigid, spine unwaveringly straight, unwilling to bend over, become a steady bridge for the others to walk over. She's not that type of girl, will never be that type of girl. Her lips part, voice plain and upfront when she replies,
"I suppose it's a nice perk. Like Lily said though, there's more to a person than Quidditch"
A hum drones out of Mary, beginning to coil one of her dark curls around her finger, "It was quite the move he pulled at the match"
Dedicating the match's win to her with the crafty golden snitch that's currently residing proudly on top of Romie's bedside drawers. Yes. Quite the move, considering the entirety of Hogwarts were watching, including their two desperately pining brothers. If it wasn't Regulus Black, Romie would have ensured he'd heard her applause, her excessive praise for such good thinking on his part. The last thing he needs is that outrageously enormous ego blowing up even more.
"Not even Potter's thought of that one for Lils before" Marlene pipes up, hands raising innocently when Lily shoots her a murderous look. The redhead sighs, turning back to Romie, offering,
"It was quite sweet"
Too simple. Too easy. Lily's a girl of many opinions, always seeking out other interpretations, arguments and policies. Romie doesn't believe all she has to say on the matter is that it was fairly sweet thing for him to do. Against useless beating around the bush, she prompts knowingly,
"But?"
Lily's head tilts down a fraction, something hesitant, something concerned and something that looks an awful lot like caution shining bright in her eyes. In all of their eyes, Romie notices, spying Marlene and Mary across the table, waiting for Lily to finally finish,
"You have to consider the facts. Who he is, who he's involved with, he might not be the type of boy you want to be getting involved with, Romie"
Romie exhales deeply, feeling something dark, something violent — explosive starting to rattle inside of her chest. Stroking the soft skin between her knuckles in attempt to keep it at bay, her head shakes, smiling at Lily despite herself,
"You know, Sirius said the exact same thing. What a coincidence"
There it was again. That covert exchanged glance between the girls, that silent communication that unnerved Romie earlier. Perhaps this wasn't just Lily, Mary and Marlene. Perhaps there was ulterior motives on the table after all. Romie should've known better. Should've known it was too good to be true.
She scoffs loudly, snapping them out of the private eye conversation as she stands from her seat and climbs over the bench, ignoring all of their calls, realising that they want to make things right. Assure they're only looking out for her, all things she's heard many times before. It's too fucking late. She charges up the aisle, killing the lively conversation between Marauders and those dotted around when she hisses at Remus,
"You're fucking unbelievable"
Romie doesn't linger, however. Doesn't wait around for him to bite back something along the lines of it's for your own good or just another straight up repeat of his favourite phrase, you cannot date Regulus Black. She carries on, storming up the Great Hall. But when she gets to the end of the long table of chatty lions, she doesn't head for the exiting doors. She heads elsewhere. The territory of forest green and sterling silver.
It's her turn to pull quite the move.
"Long time no see, Lupin"
Upon hearing the cheery greeting of his friend, Regulus lifts his head from his the open page of his book, dark eyebrows furrowing a little. Because just behind him, practically at his right shoulder, standing impatiently, a lion amongst the pit of snakes, is Romie Lupin. Rather blankly he stares up at her, quite certain there hadn't been any plans to put on a show this meal time. His lips part to speak, ask what the hell is going on, yet it's not his voice that rings out,
"You can't sit here. This bench is for Slytherins only"
Internally groaning, Romie peers over to where Anna Pucey's smiling a smile nearly as fake as the relationship between Romie and Regulus. Easily becoming her opponent, the Gryffindor smiles back, returning sickly sweet,
"A good job I'm not here to sit on the bench then, isn't it?"
Regulus' frown deepens, shouting at his brain to move quicker, comprehend what's going on. He doesn't get the chance to think, to ask the questions ready to fire off his tongue. Only a flash of glowing violet, warning to play along or else and then, a weight settling down on his knee. A weight of a person.
He stiffens, every muscle in his body tensing at the realisation of what's happening. Romie's perched herself on his knee, at the Slytherin table, for all to see.
"What the fuck are you doing?" He grunts gruffly under his breath, very aware of the large number of eyes glued to them. Of the holes being scorched into their heads from the table she's just come from.
Pretending he's said something hilarious, Romie laughs quietly, replying only loud enough for his ears to hear, "What the fuck do you think i'm doing? Stop asking stupid questions and greet me like i'm the girl of your dreams"
"If you were the girl of my dreams, the only greeting i'd be giving would be a happy handshake to Death" Regulus mumbles, but plays his part. He's signed on it after all.
Like back in the Library, from his position behind, his Quidditch strong arms slowly hook around the front of her shoulders, holding her steady as he edges closer, ducking his head next to hers. Unlike back in the library, he doesn't stop at her ear, he goes further, cranes right around until he reaches the apple of her cheek. And then, somewhat brushes his surprisingly soft lips there, for what others would perceive a kiss.
In reality, to Romie, he's whispering, "You're beyond insufferable"
"You think this is where I want to be?" Romie whispers back, blocking out the not so quiet opinions on her appearance and wealth bouncing back and forth between Anna's group of friends.
Regulus shrugs, a smirk teasing his lips when he points out, "You could've made a furious exit, so i'm not sure I believe you don't"
As soon as Romie's smart mouth opens to counter him strongly, it clamps shut, all words dying in her throat. Because something else captivates her attention. Something that makes her mouth water and her stomach rumble.
"Is that steak?" She queries, staring down at the thick, generous fillet of meat left to go cold on Regulus' plate.
He hums in confirmation, very nearly falling backwards off the bench to the floor when she whips around to face him, mouth dropped open in outrage,
"We don't get steak"
"The families of Slytherin students pay generous funds to the school regularly, of course we get steak. Mind you, the incompetent fools can't get it right. It's disgustingly rare—" The Slytherin stops, unable to finish his sentence.
Because, like an animal starved, Romie's already helping herself to the cut of meat he'd refused, practically devouring it. Regulus doesn't know what's worse, that she looks like she's thoroughly enjoying the red rawness of it, or that she's using the knife and fork that he'd used. He's not the only one that's noticed either, across the bench, Barty and Evan are watching her with a mix of awe and fear in their expressions.
"Here. Do that again" Evan insists eagerly, pushing forward the plate of steaks left untouched by the fussy Slytherins.
Romie had no objections, didn't care one bit this wasn't how a lady was supposed to eat. She was already sitting on a boy's knee instead of a seat of her own, there was no harm in going the whole way. Especially when there's raw steak involved.
"I take it back, Black. This is exactly where I want to be" She murmurs, happily licking her lips.
Regulus merely hums, peeking over his shoulder to glance outside the window behind him.
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Hi! I absolutely love how much you're all loving this book at the moment! It makes me beyond happy, I can't even describe it! I'm always grinning at all the comments and my family is asking who's got me smiling so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Hope you enjoyed this one 💜