Lily stood beside a flat stone at the lake's edge, hopping from foot to foot. Her laugh rang out, bright and clear, carried far by the wind.
Marcia watched her bounce and laughed along.
When Lily had finally had enough, she stopped, cheeks flushed, breathing quick, but the smile wouldn't leave her face. She glanced down at the slip of paper in her hand and moved to tuck it into the inner pocket of her robe.
The moment her fingers touched the edge of the pocket, the paper began to change. The dull grey-white faded back to deep yellow. The edges curled and the stiff sheet softened into something supple, slightly waxy.
A leaf.
Lily stared at it, pouted for half a second, then tucked the leaf carefully into the pocket sewn inside her sleeve.
A leaf works too. Could make a nice bookmark.
Marcia stood beside her, watching the whole performance of laughing and hopping, and a name surfaced in her mind: Regulus Black.
She'd known since last term that Lily had some kind of connection to the Slytherin boy. It wasn't a secret. Lily hadn't hidden it. Sometimes, coming back from the library, Lily would sit on the edge of her bed and stare at nothing, mouth curved in a smile she didn't seem aware of.
Marcia noticed. She didn't ask.
She was a big girl now. Last term she'd learned how to share, how to make a real friend in Lily. And now she'd learned something else: some things were better left unspoken.
But she thought about it.
Slytherin and Gryffindor. Pure-blood elite and Muggle-born. Black and Evans. No matter how she arranged those words, they didn't fit together.
The Blacks? One of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Their family tree stretched back a dozen generations and then some.
The Evanses? An ordinary Muggle family from Cokeworth.
Put the two names side by side and they just looked wrong, like things dragged from different worlds and forced to sit next to each other.
Marcia wasn't looking down on anyone. She was pure-blood herself. The Fawley family didn't rank at the top of pure-blood circles, but she knew the rules. She'd heard the tone her parents used when the Black name came up, the way the women at tea parties whispered about those who mingled with Muggles.
She kept all of it behind her teeth, because when Lily smiled like that, she meant it.
Marcia smoothed her expression, pushed the thoughts down, and put her own smile back on.
Lily was happy right now. All Marcia had to do was be happy with her. The rest could wait.
She sighed inwardly. Being a good friend is exhausting. We're barely teenagers and I'm already worrying about all this. What's it going to be like when we're older?
Lily tucked the leaf away and looked up to find Marcia staring at her. She blinked. "What?"
Marcia leaned in, resting her chin on Lily's shoulder, voice low but lilting upward. "Who wrote what, exactly?"
Lily turned her head, beaming. "A friend."
Marcia's eyebrow arched. Still low, but with the end of the question stretched out: "Black? The Slytherin one?"
It nagged at Lily. Marcia never seemed able to say Regulus's actual name. It was always "the Slytherin Black," with "Slytherin" tacked on just to distinguish him from the Gryffindor one.
She didn't know if it was some Fawley family opinion about the Blacks, or just something Marcia had going on herself. She'd tried asking once or twice, but Marcia always dodged the question, so Lily let it drop. They were both her friends. There wasn't much she could do about it.
The flicker of annoyance passed as quickly as it came. She smiled again and nodded. "Yeah. It's him."
Marcia's face shifted. Her eyes narrowed, lips pressing downward, expression going deadly serious. "So are you even coming back to the dormitory tonight?"
Lily's eyes flew wide, as though she'd just heard something impossible.
She lunged for Marcia, who laughed and dodged backward, stumbling over a stone and nearly falling.
"I mean..." Marcia steadied herself, gasping between laughs. "Isn't it a bit early for that?"
Lily glared. "What are you even thinking? Regulus asked me to come practice spells."
Marcia paused, blinking.
"Well, you'd better study hard," she said, perfectly straight-faced. "Learn even a fraction of what the Slytherin Black can do and you'll be unstoppable."
Lily tilted her head. "Do you know how good he is?"
Regulus never talked about it. Aside from that time in the library when he'd let her experience a Protego firsthand, he'd never shown her what he could do.
She knew he was powerful. She knew he was strong. But what that actually looked like, she had no idea.
Marcia thought for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't, but my family says this generation's Black is going to be someone extraordinary."
She inched closer, dropping her voice like she was sharing a secret.
"I've also heard them talking with other families, saying they should have their children get on good terms with the Slytherin Black. And even if they can't manage that, they absolutely can't afford to make him dislike them."
Lily listened, and something she couldn't name stirred inside her.
Part of it was happy. What those pure-blood families thought about sucking up to someone had nothing to do with her. The happiness was about Regulus.
But underneath the happiness, something else rose slowly from a quiet corner of her chest, like bubbles drifting up from the bottom of a lake.
When they broke the surface, they left a small hollow behind.
The happiness was real. But so was the other thing.
She pushed it down quickly, put the smile back on. "Let's go."
She grabbed Marcia's hand and pulled her toward the castle, steps quick. Marcia stumbled along behind.
"Slow down, slow down..." Marcia's voice trailed behind her, stretched thin by the wind.
Lily ignored her, walking even faster, her laughter floating back, crisp and light.
Marcia chased after her, skirt whipping up in the breeze. She pressed it down. It flew up again.
The two of them ran through the castle gates, one after the other.
In the dormitory, Lily started going through her wardrobe. It wasn't large. A few robes hung inside, and she pushed them from left to right, then right to left, then back again.
Marcia leaned against the bedpost and watched.
She wasn't sure why. All Regulus had done was ask her to practice spells, and Lily wanted to change clothes.
Probably just being polite?
Yes.... polite. Someone's taking the time to teach you something, the least you can do is look presentable.
"This one?" Lily held up a deep blue robe with silver trim at the collar. Her mother's Christmas gift from last year. She'd been pleased enough when she opened it, but once she put it on, the dark color made her look older than she was. It had stayed at the bottom of the wardrobe ever since.
Marcia glanced at it. "Too formal. You're practicing spells, not attending a banquet."
Lily stuffed the blue one back and pulled out another. Pale grey, faint patterns woven into the cuffs, something she'd picked out herself before term started. The fabric was soft, comfortable.
She held it up, then put it back. "Too plain."
Marcia watched from the side, her lips curving. "You're just going to practice spells, not going on a..."
Lily whipped around and glared. Marcia swallowed the rest of the sentence and arranged her face into a look of earnest consultation. "What about that one? That one's nice."
Lily followed her finger. A pale lavender robe with simple white trim at the collar and cuffs. Not flashy and clean.
She'd worn it a few times last month. Marcia said it looked good.
Lily draped the robe over the back of a chair and moved on to other things.
Scarf, hair ribbon, should she change her shoes?
Marcia weighed in on each. No ribbon. Scarf's too heavy. Shoes are fine. That robe with a white blouse underneath, that's all you need.
The dormitory door swung open and Susana Hopkins walked in. She had a stack of books in her arms. She spotted the clothes strewn across the bed and froze. "What's going on? A date?"
Lily's face went scarlet. "No! I'm practicing magic with a friend tonight."
Susana drew out a long, knowing "Ohhh," her gaze sliding from Lily's face to Marcia's.
Marcia gave a single solemn nod. What exactly she was communicating, even she probably couldn't say.
Susana's expression shifted from curious to understanding in an instant. She tossed her books onto her own bed and crowded in.
"What about this one?" She held up the pale grey.
Lily shook her head. "Too plain."
Susana grabbed another. "This one?"
The three of them rummaged through the wardrobe until they settled, as they were always going to, on the lavender robe with a white blouse, collar turned out, cuffs neatly folded. Red hair pulled into a ponytail and tied with a lavender ribbon to match.
Marcia stepped back two paces and looked her over. She nodded.
Susana stepped back two paces and looked her over. She nodded too.
Susana Hopkins was Muggle-born as well, and she got along well enough with Lily, though not as close as Marcia. There was always a quiet thread of competition between them. Lily was practically the best witch in third year across the board, especially in Potions, where Professor Slughorn awarded her points nearly every lesson. Susana, also from a Muggle family, wanted to keep pace. The rivalry was the friendly kind, academic. But Lily simply clicked better with Marcia. No particular reason. Sometimes people just worked that way.
---
Evening. The Great Hall. Slytherin table.
Regulus finished his last bite and set down his knife and fork. "Practice on your own tonight. I'll join you later."
Hermes didn't look up. A muffled "Mm" came from somewhere behind a mouthful of food, and he went back to stabbing at the potatoes on his plate.
Cuthbert and Alex glanced at each other.
Together, they looked up at Regulus, searching his face for some kind of clue.
There was nothing to find. He picked up his pumpkin juice, took a sip, set it down, and let his gaze drift sideways for just a moment.
Cuthbert's head dropped immediately. His fork plunged into a piece of beef and stayed there.
Alex dropped his head too and attacked his food at double speed.
Under the table, though, the fidgeting didn't stop. Cuthbert kicked Alex. Alex kicked back. Their legs went back and forth beneath the bench in silent warfare.
Regulus let them be, but made a mental note to add extra drills for both of them later. How much extra depended on his mood.
---
Eight o'clock. End of the fourth-floor corridor.
This floor was empty most of the time, and at this hour, even more so. Torches were spaced far apart, their glow dim and amber, leaving the hallway caught between light and shadow. The portraits on the walls had settled down. Some tilted their heads drowsily. Others had turned around entirely, showing nothing but the backs of their frames.
The door to the abandoned classroom stood slightly ajar. When Regulus pushed it open, Lily was already there.
She stood by the window. At the sound of the door, she turned, smiling. "You're here."
He nodded. A silent Colloportus, and the door slid shut on its own.
He took in the room. Desks and chairs were piled in the corner, tabletops filmed with dust. Something was written on the blackboard from a long-forgotten lesson, half erased, the rest too faded to read.
A flick of his hand. The furniture moved on its own, gliding to either side, clearing an open space in the center.
Regulus turned back, and his gaze settled on Lily.
She wore a pale lavender robe, white trim at the collar and cuffs, her hair held back by a ribbon the same shade. Her ears and the line of her neck were visible. Light from the window caught her hair and made the red look deeper than usual. The purple of the robe set off those green eyes until they seemed almost luminous.
He looked a moment longer. Something was different.
Same face. Standing by the window with the darkening sky behind her, the window frame tracing her outline.
But it felt different.
Lily caught his gaze and her lips curved upward.
She crossed from the window toward him, tilted her head, and let her voice rise playfully. "Professor Regulus?"
He met it without missing a beat, the corner of his mouth bending just slightly. "Miss Lily."
---
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