CHECK YES JULIET ▷ JAMES POTTER [1]

𝟐𝟗. 𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆

(29 : STEAL IMMORTAL BLESSING. . .
FROM HER LIPS)

✧࿐ ཾ✧

      FOR SEVEN DAYS STRAIGHT, JULIET spent every spare moment she had in the library and — unintentionally — distanced herself from James in the process. Instead of meeting up with him, her free periods were consumed with the frantic scribbling of notes about the Philosopher's Stone. The Philosopher's Stone was the only substance known to be able to produce the Elixir of Life and it was meant to be one of a kind. Of course she knew this already and Hogwarts seemed to have little offer when it came to manufacturing immorality.

     On the eighth day of dead ends, the Slytherin opted to resort to desperate measures. Not that she wanted to admit it, but the warning she received from Voldemort had left her spooked and she now resolved to devote all of her time to her task. If the man was willing to kill a half blood that Juliet merely shared one or two conversations with to send a message, what would he do if he found out about her intimate relationship with a known blood traitor?

     "Hi," greeted Juliet, dropping her books in front of Regulus Black. "May I sit?"

     Regulus had been in the library almost as often as Juliet, but she didn't know why. He would sit in the same spot every day — two tables away — and occasionally spare a glance at the redhead between his own urgent scrawling of notes. Although she was still mad at him, she didn't know who else to talk to. Desperate measures, indeed.

Looking up through his lashes, Regulus remained apathetic. "The last time we spoke you told me to go fuck myself."

"I was being rash," excused Juliet, sitting down without permission.

"You're not exactly a rash person," Regulus refuted, slamming his book shut.

"Fine, I meant it. I won't apologise and I'm still mad that you're clearly hiding something from me," acknowledged Juliet, candid as ever. "Now that's been established, I need your help with my task for You-Know-Who. You're the only person I can talk to about this and if you help me then maybe — maybe I could forgive you."

The boy bristled. "You need help with the . . . elixir?"

Juliet deflated. "I've spent all week looking for a way to mimic the properties of the Philosopher's Stone, but it's impossible!" complained the Slytherin, wringing her hands underneath the table. "And there's no record of how to create the Philosopher's Stone. For all I know, it could be a myth. Countless of alchemists, ones that are far more advanced than a seventeen year old, have failed to identify the correct compounds or even replicate the effects."