the crossing line

three

Around him autumn colours swirl, caught in a gentle breeze. The air has the coolness of fall, warmed by the glow of sunlight - an echo of summer's end. A pair of birds weave in and out of the courtyard, chirping lightly.

Regulus observes Flora from a distance, half-listening to Mulciber's spiel about the injustice of McGonagall, making sure to nod and hum every so often.

Rosier fiddles with his wand, charming a nearby insect green.

Flora's face screws with concentration as she flips furiously through her book, scribbling into a strangely bound notebook. A muggle-made notebook bound with a spiralling wire.

"Watch this," Rosier whispers with a wicked grin.

Mildly alarmed, Regulus follows his gaze to Flora, frowning. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing she doesn't deserve."

That's not an encouraging explanation. His frown deepens.

"What does that m—"

Rosier flicks his wand, turning Flora's hair into a garish green.

Mulciber laughs.

"Hilarious, innit?"

"Spectacular." Regulus agrees easily, smiling even as his fingers curl around his wand. He wants to wipe the smiles off their faces. If only he had the courage.

"Look at her stupid expression!"

Regulus watches her blink and look down at the tips of her hair in bemusement.

"Ah," she realizes, waving her wand.

Nothing happens.

Rosier cackles.

Frowning, she waves it again.

No change.

"Evan," Regulus begins slowly, "was that permanent?"

"A proper witch could undo it if she were pure enough."

Regulus resists the growing itch to hex Rosier.

"She's coming this way!" Mulciber hisses, gripping his wand.

"Probably to beg me to reverse it." Rosier preens as Flora approaches. "You're in bad luck, Lovelock. I'm—"

"I think I look rather splendid in green." Flora interrupts with a grin much too salacious for her age. "It's a wonderful colour. Truly."

Regulus' eyes widens at the expression, a flush threatening to bloom on his cheeks. Even in green, Flora was still... her usual charming self. And when she made that sort of expression, Regulus felt... mildly uncomfortable.

"Er," says Rosier, dumbstruck, "what?"

"Oh, Evan." She purrs, gently cupping his cheek. "You should know better than to mess with a lady's hair."

Regulus stares at her hand, at Rosier's cheek, and represses the fierce desire to pull her hand away. There is something very wrong about this.

"I—you—-uh—wha?" Rosier gibbers unintelligibly.

Flora laughs.

Regulus' eyes widen as a tresse of green hair unravels itself, rising up with a loud hiss.

Rosier shrieks loudly as a green snake snaps at him, straining inches away from his face. His only saving grace is the fact that the serpent is tethered to Flora's head.

"G-gorgon!" Mulciber squeaks in terror as several other serpentine locks unfurl.

"Why are you so afraid?" Flora asks Rosier with an eerie smile. "You're a Slytherin. Snakes should be a welcome addition to my form. They make me seem less muggle, don't they?"