Bad Timing (J. Potter)

5 : The Friendship of Regulus Black

The Friendship of Regulus Black

"best friends don't expect anything from you"

*

For once, Miriam's nose wasn't buried in her manuscript, but Regulus' was. She sat snuggled on the couch with her knees pulled to her chest, a blanket hiding her tapping fingers. No matter how many chapters she asked him to read, it never became less unnerving.

His blue eyes scanned page after page. Occasionally, a crease would form between his eyebrows, or he'd bite his lip, or he'd push a black curl out of his face. These little ticks were enough to drive her mad, but still, he never said a word.

The Slytherin common room was all but deserted. Most of their classmates chose to spend the first Saturday in October in Hogsmeade. This particular pair hung behind, as Miriam had stayed up until three A.M. the night before to finish a particularly long chapter and needed feedback. Regulus, her makeshift editor, instantly agreed to stay with her.

Eventually, Miriam couldn't take the silence any longer and burst out, "so?"

Regulus held up a finger, an annoying smirk growing on his pale face as he finished the paragraph. Only then did he look up. "You missed a few commas here and there. I marked them in, see."

"Reg, I will hex you into next week-"

"Hey, I'm just messing with you. It's good. Really good." A frown tugged at the edges of his lips. He pushed a dark curl out of his eyes and asked, "are you doing okay?"

The frown spread to Miriam, who ducked her head and shrugged. She pulled the blanket more seculrely around herself. "Since the last time I checked, yes. Why?"

"Every time something's wrong in your life, you kill off one of your characters. Remember when you and Devon got detention for sneaking out and lost Slytherin a hundred points each? That was the week my favorite character died. Still not over that, by the way."

Miriam opened her mouth to argue, then sighed. He was completely right. Why did he always have to be right?

She raked a hand through her light brown hair, debating how much to share and how much to clutch to her heart. Regulus waited patiently for her to make a decision. That was perhaps the best thing about him. He never rushed her thoughts.

"I just got a letter from my father yesterday. Now that I'm almost sixteen, he's trying to arrange a marriage for me."

There was no pity in Regulus' deep blue eyes, nor did she expect there to be. Arranged marriage was the reality they lived, the cost of high society membership, yet another mark of Pureblood status. While they weren't as notable as the Blacks, the Greengrass family held quite a lot of power in the wizarding world. They were members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. She grew up knowing that her marriage would likely be loveless. At fifteen years old, she'd wrapped her head around it and simply moved on, not willing to fight that particular battle with her father. She had no power to win.

What was the point in fighting an unwinnable battle, no matter how noble it was?

"So what?" Regulus prodded. "My father's doing the same. Weddings won't happen until after graduation anyway. Course he's having a bit of trouble, Sirius being Sirius, but he'll come around. Hopefully."