Finn Lynch lives a quiet, tranquil life in a rural village in the mountains. Her life may lack spontaneity and excitement, but at least it's peaceful. And if it's a little lonely too, then she can't complain too much - she's still happy, after all.
...
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Regulus doesn't reappear until much later in the evening.
Finn has already started getting the dinner ready, and is busy trying to pull a tray full of roasted potatoes out of the oven. She's so immersed in trying not to burn herself that she doesn't even notice when he slips into the kitchen behind her. When she sets the tray on the counter and moves to turn back to the stove, she jumps in fright and lets out a yelp like a kicked dog.
Regulus is standing like a dark wraith in the corner, watching her work with a dark scowl, and the sight of him nearly sends her into cardiac arrest.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Finn yells, completely forgetting her manners. "Jesus!"
Regulus doesn't make any attempt to explain or apologise; he just keeps frowning at her, until finally he asks, "What are you doing?"
"Me?" Finn asks, confused. "I'm... I'm making dinner. It's chicken."
His intense grey eyes track over her face, before dropping to the tray of potatoes and then to the oven. After the silence stretches for an almost unbearable moment, he reaches out and points towards one of the appliances on the counter.
"What is that?"
Finn's gaze follows where Regulus is pointing. "Uh- that's a microwave."
He doesn't answer, still staring at the microwave with a strange expression on his face.
Several beats pass, then Finn turns back to the stove. "Right. Well, sit down. It'll be done in a few minutes."
It's not the most imaginative meal, but when Finn sets the plate of chicken and vegetables with gravy down on the table, Regulus still has that stupid scowl on his face.
"What?" Finn asks, beginning to get a little annoyed herself.
"You made all of this yourself?"
"Yes." Finn says, a little defensively. "Well, most of it. The gravy I bought in the shop. And the chicken I got from the inn in the village, but still-"
"You don't have any help?" Regulus demands, his brow furrowing further. "No servants?"
Finn doesn't mean to laugh, but she can't quite help it. "Servants? Are you mad?"
Regulus bristles, but doesn't speak again; he just pulls the plate closer to him and begins to dig in. A somewhat awkward silence falls between the two of them, but Finn doesn't plan on letting it linger for long. She sits up straight in her chair, and clears her throat.
"So, my uncle has a subscription to that magic newspaper, the one with all the moving photographs. I know the owls won't be able to deliver it here, because of that spell, but he set up a little collection point at the bottom of the hill. At least that way, you can stay up to date with magic news."
