Black Rose [Regulus Black]

Alessandra's right foot hovered over the threshold of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, and she cautiously lowered it, her leg jolting imperceptibly as it made contact with the dark paneled floor.

Surprisingly, she didn't spontaneously combust.

She took another tentative step forward, and then another, making sure that the floor wouldn't turn into lava. When she could make sure that Walburga hadn't set up death traps for her, she shut the door behind her, the echo of the noise resembling the closing of a coffin.

She subconsciously flexed her fingers as she walked into the dining room with bated breath. Her footsteps were as silent as the night, suitable enough for the murky atmosphere of the house, and she ruminated over what she was to say.

"Good evening," she greeted Walburga as politely as she could, trying her hardest to be as civil as she could. "I'm here to visit Reg. Could I go up to see him?"

Oh, how Walburga wanted to say no and slam the door in that wretched girl's face. She was clearly some sort of prostitute trying to find some rich man to satisfy herself, and poor Reggie had gotten himself trapped in her web. It was fairly obvious she was up to no good, her soul was as tainted as her blood. But Walburga wouldn't allow it, no. She wouldn't allow her son to get trapped by some harlot who was out for gold. She wouldn't allow her bloodline to be tainted by such filth, filth that had mingled with Muggles for most of its life. She wouldn't allow this girl to enter her home and ruin her house.

In the future, of course. Now, however, she had no option but to let Alessandra in because Reg couldn't see through the facade the phony bitch had put up.

Of course, Walburga would eventually dispose of that challenge, and Alessandra would just be a small bad memory in a long series of good ones if everything went to plan.

"He's in his room. You will have to leave soon though, since we will be having guests over soon."

Alessandra nodded and practically floated up the stairs, glad that Walburga was finally being nice for once. Little did she know, Walburga Black, like all Slytherins usually did, was planning something, something deceitful that would end up in the loss of a life if everything went right.

She opened the door to Regulus' room, laughing at the way he jumped up in his seat. "Hello."

"You scared me," he snapped at her, although his lips curled up slightly as he saw the dazzling smile on her face. She emitting some sort of radiance wherever she went, and he could've sworn the room had gotten a few shades brighter after her entrance.

"And I enjoyed it," she beamed.

"You seem cheerful today," he noted, his mood also lightening up in her presence.

"I had a great day at work," she looked around, because it was the first time she'd ever been in his room. "You should really clean this place up once in a while, everything's just piled up. Doesn't it bother you?"

He shrugged. "I like it that way."

"Cluttered?" she frowned.

"It helps me focus."

"I could never. I remember compulsively cleaning my room in the orphanage before sitting down to study, because the mess was too much for me to handle." She walked around, not able to help herself because she was curious. "My, don't we look dashing."

"I- huh?" he spun around, caught off-guard, to see her peering at a picture of him stuck onto the wall.

"You look nice in this one," she grinned. "Very classy."

"I was nine, and was obsessed with face-painting at the time," he scowled.

She shrugged. "It's alright, you don't have to hide it from me. Face-painting, my darling Regulus, is a true talent, and I completely understand if you choose to engage in it."

"I was nine," he groaned. "I'm no longer obsessed with it."

"Of course you aren't," she winked, and he turned away to hide the onslaught of emotions that came over him.

"What are you doing?" She plopped into the seat beside him. That chair had always been there from the very beginning and despite being the only occupant in the room, he couldn't bear to have it removed for reasons even he couldn't understand. He always got irritated whenever someone sat in it, yet he supposed he could make an exception for her.

"Going through Ministry documents," he sighed, placing his chin in his hands. "It's too messy even for me, the papers are all mixed up. I wish they had something to hold the connected documents together, it'd be so much easier to go through them."

"You mean like a stapler?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "Or a paper clip."

"A paper clip?" He assumed it was some sort of muggle contraption, it was funny how they came up with the strangest things to solve even the tiniest problems. His father used to say that Muggles were uncivilized creatures who destroyed the world for their selfish quests and lived like animals, yet they seemed very evolved.

"Yeah, it's like this wire that muggles made and twisted into a strange shape, and it holds papers together, although not permanently." She swept her hand over the table, and two strange black objects materialized on top of it, leaving him to marvel at how developed her powers were.

"I used to steal them from the office at the orphanage," she spoke fondly, unfolding the paper clips and twisting them around as he watched her fingers work their metaphorical magic with wide eyes and parted lips. "Not for any paperwork, though. I used to enjoy making it into all these shapes, like butterflies or flowers. My favourite item was the ring though."

By instinct, her fingers had coiled and turned the pieces of wire into a pretty black ring. The wires were wrapped together and twisted to form a small bundle on top of the ring, almost making it look like the petals of a black rose.

"Did you do that with magic?"

"No, that would take the fun out of it." 

His lips twitched as he realised it was technically a combination of their last names. His last name was 'Black' and hers was 'Rosier', and combined that kind of formed a black rose. It was a strange coincidence, considering black roses were what he'd got her that night, and their shared tattoos were exactly that. It had become their thing at that point.

She cleared her throat. "Here," she held it out to him, tugging his hand towards her as she slid it onto his index finger. "It goes well with the silver of your ring."

"Fits perfectly," he commented, noticing how close they were now, with their chairs practically side-by-side.

She nodded slightly, not sure what to do. They were close enough to easily attach their lips, but he was engaged (although she hoped he didn't want to be, even though it didn't really make a difference). Would he have a problem with it if she just kissed him? Would she be forcing herself on him if she did it?

He, on the other hand, had no qualms about ducking his head closer to hers, almost enjoying the way her cheeks turned crimson. More often than not, he was the silent one who always felt embarrassed, and seeing the roles reversed was amusing to him.

He leaned down as she tilted her head upwards, their hands clasping each others and moving past as their lips were about to touch-

-and then the door suddenly swung open to reveal his mother, causing them to jump back in shock as their heads whipped around to see her, identical blushes growing on their faces.

They waited for his mother to lose her mind. They waited for the harsh sound of her voice to echo through every room of the house. They waited for her to declare that she was ending this for once and for all.

It didn't happen.

"Regulus," Walburga simpered. "The Greengrass family is here, and they're waiting for you."

He nodded, trying to appear composed on the outside but he was absolutely frantic on the inside, his thoughts running haywire and creating a muddled mess. What was he doing?! He was betrothed to someone else, and was about to kiss Alessandra. He couldn't do that to her.

He wished he'd left with Sirius, things would've been much less complicated. If his guilt of leaving his parents behind by themselves hadn't wrapped itself around like a chain around his heart and pulled him back into their clutches, he'd have been so much better off.

"Should we send Alessandra through the back door then?" he asked. "So she isn't noticed."

Walburga looked surprised. "No! Why should we? I only want to welcome Alessandra to our world, and what better way to do it than by introducing her to your betrothed?"

Alessandra knew what the conniving woman was gunning for. It was clear that 'her world' involved having Cressida Green grass as the daughter-in-law and even more clear that she was trying to back Alessandra into a difficult position, as she always had. Anyone with two eyes could tell that based on her pleased expression, Walburga wanted a bigger reaction from Alessandra regarding the betrothal, like heartbreak and even shock, but Sandra would rather die than let Walburga have the satisfaction of knowing that she'd been rattled. She faced Walburga, granting the older woman a full-frontal view of her relaxed expression.

"Right. Cressida. I'd love to, it's wonderful that you have finally accepted me into your family!" she gushed, ignoring Reg's dropped jaw and wide eyes.

Walburga audibly ground her teeth, causing Sandra's disgustingly sweet smile to widen, and she sneered as she beckoned for the two teens to follow her. As they did, Regulus kept sending Alessandra desperate glances full of a thousand questions, but she paid no attention to him.

"Claudia, Eden!" Walburga cooed at the two adults seated at the table. "And I see you've brought Cressida with you. Cressida, dear, it's so nice to see you, my future daughter-in-law."

Walburga glanced at Alessandra at that part, and her lips thinned at Sandra's unbothered expression. Seeing how indifferent she was and wanting to push her to her limits, Walburga turned to face her son. "Regulus, aren't you going to greet your betrothed?"

There was no shift in expression, and Reg's nervousness only increased at that. He knew from the clench of Alessandra's jaw and the emotions swimming in her green eyes that she was clearly mad, but he couldn't disobey his mother even if it meant making her more upset. So he stepped forward and awkwardly bent down to kiss Cressida's cheek, trying his hardest to ignore the stares burning into the back of his head and the hand on his arm that wasn't Alessandra's.

"Who is that?" the man questioned. Alessandra presumed he was Eden, Cressida's father, and all the information from Regulus' books regarding the Wizarding World began flooding her mind. He'd told her to read over many books from his family library so she could have a basic understanding of the magic world, and her heart ached for all those times they sat together in her house, going over the books and laughing at little snippets of information they found particularly entertaining.

"Just a family friend from America," Walburga butted in. "She'll be gone soon."

For some reason, the words sounded more like a promise than a lie, and trepidation infiltrated every cell in Alessandra's body.

They all took a seat at the table and dug in to the food Kreacher had set on it. The air was overcome with a tense silence and her brain plotted all sorts of escape scenarios just case things went south. Her eyes met Cressida's across the table, and she returned the brunette's friendly smile. Why couldn't Cressida just be the biggest bitch there was so that Alessandra could happily hate her?

At the end of the meal, Alessandra decided that pureblood meals were boring affairs, because not a word had been spoken regarding anything, all while intense eye contact was being maintained amongst all parties. It was creepy, to say the least.

After they were done eating in a deafeningly silent environment, Walburga shifted them all to the sitting room and struck up the most exciting Alessandra had witnessed (note the sarcasm), occasionally sending her glances that made Sandra want to slap the smirk off her face. All this happened while her heart crumbled little by little within her chest, and she ignored the discreet glances Regulus kept sending her way, instead keeping her head high and her smile pristine.

Maybe Chelsea was right. Maybe it wasn't worth it. Maybe she should give up.

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