𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞 || 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Chapter 69

Regulus's POV

Monday 26th July, 1977

I winced as I slowly bandaged my ankle, careful not to make it too tight. I looked through my first aid kit for a bandage clip, putting it on my bandaged ankle when I found it. Afterwards I meticulously put everything back into the kit and hid it back under my bed, moving to sit on the edge of it as I stared at my feet.

I tried not think about what just happened. About my mother, pointing her wand at me, or her cold words before she started slicing up my ankle. She always went for the ankle, because it's easy to hide. It was no where near my first time being hurt by her, but it was probably the scariest. There was no Sirius to protect me, and my parents had been extremely angry at me. The only reason I was mostly unmarked was because we had guests coming over tomorrow, and they didn't want anyone to see me limping around.

Fortunately for them, the Cruciatis Curse leaves no physical marks.

I was interrupted from my thoughts by a knock on my window. My gaze darted to the window, curiosity and fear marring against each other. Who was knocking on my window on the second story? And why were they?

Hesitantly, I walked towards my window, pushing the velvet green curtains aside to see outside. I stumbled back a step when I found a face staring at me, my heart thudding in my chest. Recognising the face, I silently cursed as Sirius grinned at me through the window, giving a little wave as his broom hovered in place.

I stared at the others behind him in disbelief, unable to accept the fact that all these people came to rescue me. That all these people cared enough to fly here on brooms just to make sure I was safe, especially Sirius, who had told me numerous times that he would never come back here, yet here he was, in the place he hated most in the world, for me.

I cleared my throat, blinking back the sudden emotion that came over me. I would rather jump off the astronomy tower than cry in front of my brother right now. My fingers found the latch on the window as my gaze travelled over the group of people here to rescue me, eventually landing on Y/n. It was obvious flying wasn't for her, with her death grip on the broom and all. Even so, when she found me staring she managed a smile, making my heart flutter like it always did around her.

She was beautiful. An artwork. A masterpiece. I'd been infatuated with her since I was eleven years old and we met on the train. She had been quieter then, more reserved as she stuck by her brothers side like glue. Even so, she'd given me a shy smile when Sirius and James introduced us, and I thought wow, she's so beautiful. My fascination with her lessened when she was sorted into Gryffindor and I in Slytherin, and as my distaste for Gryffindors grew, the feelings my eleven-year-old self had felt slowly melted away.

I always knew she was beautiful, but aside from that I'd convinced myself there was nothing appealing to her. She was a Gryffindor, a blood traitor, and she was friends with my brother. That was enough to put me off her, and I spent the next few years happy in my bubble of resentment. That was, until, that fateful day on the train at the start of the school year. Seeing her eyes widen as she took me in, seeing an expression other than hate on her face as she stared at me made some of those old feelings for her resurface.

As the year continued on, and I got to know her, no matter how much I fought it I wasn't able to stop the feelings rushing back. I remember the exact moment I fell for her again, on the Halloween party when she'd bid me goodnight, wrapped in my blankets with strands of hair covering her face. She'd seemed so peaceful, and being treated like something other than the enemy made my heart soften like butter.

Everything after that was history.

As soon as I opened the window, everyone came flying in, much to my dismay. I tried to warn them against it, but everyone seemed too keen to escape the chilly air to pay my words any heed. Y/n was last to enter, tumbling through my window with the same grace she had while dancing, which, in other words meant very unladylike.