❝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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THE PROBLEM WITH IMMORTALITY is that, unfortunately, secrets cannot be taken to the grave. They continue to fester and whirl inside of you, creating a sense of fear and uneasiness of being found out as they eventually creep into your mind and make you delirious with paranoia.
Or so, Regulus assumes.
He's sure that the Dark Lord will become that way, if he hasn't already.
Regulus has happened upon glimpses of conversation among the other Death Eaters, talking of how many of their own that Voldemort has killed off so far, and how confident they are that they'll stay alive longer than the others.
Only for their necks to be snapped the next day.
Secrets, Regulus has found out, are a liability in the Dark Lord's eyes, which means it's only a matter of time before he's questioned next — likely in around a month or two, give or take. Then his neck will be snapped, along with every step further towards the Dark Lord's demise that Regulus has carefully cultivated.
It's pretty clear that Regulus obviously won't let that happen.
He rolls his eyes in annoyance as Laura's snores disrupt his train of thought, though they've softened considerably compared to before he'd covered her face under his duvet.
If she suffocates, then that's one less problem on his plate.
Speaking of, Regulus thinks, his gaze snapping over to look at the mound under his covers. Her breath is a lot less raptured than it was before, which is a good sign for her recovery.
He sighs. Now all that's left is to figure out what was inside of that bird to make her so ill. It hasn't affected him, nor anyone else in Laura's dorm (as relayed by a concerned Andromeda,) so what is so specially inclined to poison her specifically?
Perhaps the blood? Pandora had similar reactions to certain foods, so maybe Laura's illness is something of the same likeness, though attributed to the bird's blood rather than food.
Or is it something that the bird had eaten?
Regulus can't fathom someone wanting to harm Laura (except occasionally himself,) but if he were wanting to hurt someone, allergies would be the first route he would go.
So feeding an animal, and hiding the carcass away in said victim's desk?
That's a stroke of genius even Regulus envies.
Laura lets out a particularly loud snort in her sleep, sending a wave of apprehensive irritation through Regulus' body.
So fucking annoying, even in her sleep.
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