02. A TRADITIONAL MEAL

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CHAPTER TWO

-: villa misapinoa :-

── IN WHICH REGULUS  AWAITS HIS DINNER

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── IN WHICH REGULUS 
AWAITS HIS DINNER

. . .


IT WAS LATER THAN REGULUS was used to when it came to eating dinner that night. At Hogwarts, their evening meal had begun precisely at six and ran until seven, and whilst the clock in his room had come to a stop potentially weeks, or even months before his arrival - he knew that although the Solaras took care of the villa, they mostly lived in the small cottage on the property and were most likely unaware of it coming to a stop - Regulus knew it was past that.

He had spent his first day in the villa confined to his room, unsure what else to do. It was comfortably warm, sash windows pushed upwards and open by Odette to allow some fresh air into the somewhat stuffy room. It appeared that despite Melina (who Regulus deemed as nothing more than a friendly face who happened to read and was by no means any more interested regardless of his mother's intentions) claiming it as her designated reading room, and the many books lining the shelves with her neat pencil print within proving it so, she hadn't spent so much time in it recently and what time she had was spent cleaning it up for his arrival.

Although he could understand the appeal of why such a room had been chosen. He was aware that there was a conservatory-style library on the floor below, however, his assigned bedroom for his stay there was much more welcoming and oddly homely. This contrasted greatly with the memory of his room in Grimmauld Place, but there was something he preferred about the room in the Italian villa.

The sheer amount of books made it appear all the more so, dust drifting into the beams of light that shone through the window, which looked out onto the most stunning view of the rolling, so purely alive countryside around them. He wasn't used to it. In London, the street was grey and the plants in the small square across from his bottled window were too unkempt to look appealing. Whilst In Scotland, the scenery had no doubt been incredible... it was just that it was particularly high up in the northern hemisphere and often grey and damp.

Here was nothing like that at all. It was sunny and warm and lusciously green. There were bursts of colour everywhere he looked; trees and plants and bushes with tiny flowers spotted over dark green. Everywhere seemed to smell so fresh and the epitome of summer. It was welcome, to his mind, and the upset that came from being so randomly plucked from his life and leaving for a house Regulus wasn't even aware his family-owned dulled a little.

The book he was mindlessly flipping through suddenly bored him and he got to his feet, eyeing the half-unpacked Hogwarts trunk and bag of other belongings from Grimmauld Place in the corner. He ignored them, deciding that he would unpack them another day and he could deal without the pressure of knowing he would be staying there until further notice at a different time.

Instead, Regulus's interest was turned towards the bookshelves that acted like wallpaper in the room. The titles there were mostly in French and English, with some dotted around in Italian. It appeared that Melina had a wide, varying taste that easily matched his own, and satisfied the fear of having little to no entertainment whilst he was there. There was a library downstairs as well, he believed and was ever-grateful that someone in his family tree had the same bookish intents as he did.

𝗰𝗿𝗼𝗰𝗼𝗱𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗸, regulus blackWhere stories live. Discover now