❝You don't find me handsome?❞ Regulus' breath tickles the nape of Laura's neck, sending a wave of happiness down her spine.
She leans backward to fake a scowl up at him. ❝I find you utterly repulsive.❞
His lips quirk as he ducks his head down to k...
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LAURA HAD FALLEN FOR HIS SCARS. They'd rested upon his tanned skin so beautifully, like tears meticulously littered across flawless satin— they were a painful reminder of her own tragic internal wounds.
Laura's eyes could drink Remus in over and over, and yet she could never grow tired of the hazel hues that peered back at her when she would wake up in his dorm, on his bed, wrapped in his arms, warmth flooding her body with fervor and delight.
Now she's forced to endure them only in her dreams.
"One job, Meadowes, you had one job."
"She's not dead, I swear! Just a bit, urm..." Dorcas hesitates. "Hung over, I suppose? I hadn't realized how horrible she is at holding her firewhiskey."
Someone parts the curtains and Laura feels like her head's been split in half along with them. Wearily, her eyes peel open, only to be met by a curious pair merely inches from her face. A horrified shriek escapes her lips and she immediately shoots up, pulling her duvet up around her body to hide the flimsy tank top and extremely revealing pajama shorts that Dorcas had loaned her.
Evan snickers and backs away a bit. "You're much more pleasant when you're sleeping."
Though exhaust is prominent in Laura's eyes, the glare she sends Evan is just as spiteful as it would have been if she were fully awake. "Get. Out. Now."
"Oh please, Lovegood, do have some common sense." Crouch leers, eyeing Laura and her duvet with considerable loathing. "If we wanted to see a toothpick with tits, we would have just gone to St. Mungo's and perved on the bowtruckle flu patients. At least they have more meat on their bones than you do."
"Barty! Don't be cruel!" Andromeda admonishes as Dorcas gives Crouch a firm whack with her pillow. "She's a guest, not one of your poor victims."
Evan grins at Laura, ignoring Andromeda. "Don't worry Lovegood, when we're done with you, you'll have been loaded with enough treats to make you borderline overweight. Reg here has helped me become quite fond of helping give to those in need of charity."
Regulus lets out an uncomfortable cough, and Laura is suddenly even more mortified. She quickly stands to her feet, duvet still wrapped around her tightly as her face turns warm from embarrassment.
"First period starts in thirty minutes, and you've still yet to get changed and eat breakfast. I'd suggest you find some more..." Regulus' eyes flicker to Laura's tank top strap briefly before returning to her own, which have begun to narrow. "Decent clothing. Professor McGonagall has agreed to allow you to attend joint classes with Slytherin for the time being."
Laura glares at Regulus. "If you comment on my decency one more time, I will fucking end you, Black. Kindly get the hell out of this dorm before I blow your bloody head off with my wand."
Evan shoots Regulus a look. "Mate, I think Lovegood's finally gone mad, so maybe we should probably leave."
Before Regulus can argue, a strangled sound leaves Evan as Laura drops the duvet and grabs her wand from her nightstand. "Lovegood, please, no need to be rash. I'm sure we can sort this—"
