The sun watched Phoibe Evadine by day but at nightfall the moon learnt all of her secrets. And the one she was so desperate to keep was Regulus Black.
Somehow he was the space between her fingers but also the name that fell from her lips in distain...
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song guide ♬ would it really kill you if we kissed ~ heather june ♬
*✮ .. ° ☆ . °¸ . • ✮ . • °:. ₊ ° . ☆ . . ° .•
The grandest wedding of the summer uniting two of the most powerful pure blood families in the country was finally over and Phoibe would have been completely relieved at this fact if not for one thing.
Regulus Black was still, much to Phoibe Evadine's dismay, a guest at the Lestrange Manor and would be for the last week of the school holidays. This meant she would have to share her best friend with the inconsiderate boy. It also meant that she was forced to confront a fact that she had been desperately trying to avoid since her conversation with Sirius a few nights ago.
Regulus Black apparently did not hate her.
These words falling from Pandora's mouth had not meant much to Phoibe previously, but coming from Sirius? It had made her over analyse every situation she had ever encountered with the younger Black brother.
The fact that he apparently did not truly hate her made her feel uneasy. Phoibe Evadine liked to know exactly where she stood with people, she loathed secrets and hidden motives, in fact it was one of the reasons she despised her father's decision to become a politician.
Why couldn't he have stayed a daring curse breaker? Phoibe decided she would have much preferred to read those kind of articles about her father having adventures in the Daily Prophet rather than horrid smear campaigns. Though there was one reporter she could always rely on to tell the truth, to uncover the real story; her aunt Arabella. Finally she was going to be back after touring Europe, interviewing internationally renowned quidditch players all for the wizarding world to read about.
Phoibe waited patiently staring at the empty dining table seat across from her. Any minute now her Aunt would apparate into the room and recite tales of her travels across Europe. However, the other Evadine siblings were hardly showing the same restraint. Maxwell was drumming his fingers against the edge of the table in anticipation while Lanesia sung a happy nursery rhyme to pass the time.
"When is she going to get here?" Maxwell burst out.
"When she gets here." The children's father Ambrose said disengaged without drawing his eyes up from the evening prophet. Phoibe could hardly blame him he had answered the question over hundred times in the past ten minutes.
