Where: Ye Olde Curiosity Shop Who: Open

Narcissa watched him closely, her eyes softening as the silence stretched between them. She recognized the rigidity in his posture, the carefully measured control of his tone, and the weight that clung to his words. She had seen it often enough before—not just in Regulus, but in herself. They all carried their burdens differently, but they carried them nonetheless.

"Yes," she said finally, her voice quiet but firm. "We do all carry the weight of it. And we all make our choices." She stepped closer, not intruding but bridging the distance slightly, her gaze steady and kind. "But that doesn’t mean the weight is yours alone to bear, Regulus."

Her hand brushed lightly against the edge of the shelf, a gesture that felt more reflexive than deliberate. "I know that Sirius' absence has cost you," she added gently, her words careful, a subtle acknowledgment without pressing too far. "And I know how much you’ve had to shoulder since then, but you're not alone."

Narcissa let the words settle before offering him a small, almost wistful smile. "It’s not an easy thing to reconcile, is it? Being a Black and being... ourselves." Her tone softened further, almost conspiratorial. "But I’ve always believed you see more clearly than most of us, Regulus. Perhaps even more than you let yourself admit. Whatever choices you make, I hope you trust yourself enough to make them fully."

She paused, giving him a moment before continuing. "You don’t have to answer me," she said, her smile faint but warm. "But if you ever wanted to talk—not about Sirius, not about the family, just... about you—I’m here."

Listening to her words, Regulus pressed his lips together as though in thought. His mind flickered briefly to the doubts that tugged at him in private moments, but he pushed them down, as he always did. There was nothing more devastating than allowing them to the surface, especially in the company of his family. Even Narcissa.

"Perhaps," he agreed, his tone tight, deliberately controlled. It didn't betray the conflict that swirled beneath it, but his posture was a little too rigid, his gaze still fixed on the room’s decor as though it could somehow anchor him. When ready, after allowing the silence to stretch a beat too long, his gaze returned to Narcissa. "Regardless, it's representative." This wasn't said with resentment, only finality. It was a mere truth.

What suits the family. Regulus thought that perhaps Narcissa was right, but for the wrong reasons. Regulus wasn't going to pretend he was the perfect male heir for the black family. Sirius would have been much better in those shoes, in theory. But as far as what was good for the family... Perhaps he knew better than his cousins, than his parents on that front. The Black family - sacred twenty-eight and a legacy that spanned generations. Yet, bowing to the Dark Lord. Servants. He wouldn't dare speak those thoughts. He barely dared to think them. "We all carry the weight of being a Black. Whether we thrive in the limelight or the shadows."

Her comment about his brother caused him to tense even moreso. He exhaled through his nose, a sharp sound that could’ve been a laugh. Could've. The topic of his brother would forever be a sore spot. It had been years, but none of those years apart could erase the memories they did have together. The years had stained them, warped them, and repurposed them... But, Regulus couldn't help but long for something that could never be. He glanced at her briefly, then away again. Narcissa was aware, likely more than anyone, of what his brother's departure had meant for Regulus. Though even she hadn't been told of the full weight of it. Reg's tight-lipped nature was not a new phenomenon. "We all make our choices." The words were clipped, too final, as if daring her to press further. He wasn’t willing to discuss his brother with her, not now—not ever, perhaps. Not when he wasn't sure of where his own loyalties stood.

Where: The Hogwarts University library Who: Open to all

Leaning back in her chair, her thoughts far away from anything to do with the pile of coursework in front of her, Mary sat up when she became aware of another person approaching the table she was sitting at. A quick glance at the clock told her that it was long past clocking out time for most.

"What are you still doing here?" She asked with a small smile. "Everyone's usually gone by now."

Narcissa’s eyes flicked up from her book, her gaze landing on James with precise recognition, though she let the silence linger just long enough to be uncomfortable. Finally, she spoke, her voice smooth and honeyed, with an edge like polished glass.

"James," she said, the single syllable carrying both familiarity and an unspoken reprimand. "I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always had a way of… inserting yourself into situations uninvited."

She closed her book deliberately, the soft thud punctuating her words, and leaned back slightly, folding her hands neatly atop the table. A faint, sardonic smile played on her lips as she tilted her head, studying him.

"So, what is it today? Idle curiosity? A desperate bid to procrastinate? Or just the sheer audacity of thinking I might enjoy your company?"

Open starter [ James ]

Having secured that morning's cup of tea from the friendly campus barista, James had looked around the claustrophobically small coffee shop. He found no hope of securing a seat by the window, which was his preferred spot to perch. No better entertainment than people watching, especially with the core textbook in his bag that was begging to be ignored. He'd read it eventually, of course.

So, choosing the next best distraction, he pulled up a chair on an otherwise taken table. He'd not so much as looked at the occupant, but he was never one to shy away from a conversation.

"You don't mind, do you?"

{ mary tag dump }

Mary’s eyes narrowed with an air of mock seriousness, her quill twirling idly between her fingers. Maybe I’ll try it. Though, if it fails me, I’ll be sure to cite you in my impending howler to Professor McGonagall.”

She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table as her grin widened. “Improper use of a charm, you say? Chaos? Potter, you’re against chaos?” She arched a brow, smirking. “If you’re against chaos, then I’m the Minister of Magic.”

At his dramatic display of being wounded, she let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Oh, forgive me, James. I underestimated your reputation as an academic prodigy. Of course, you’ve picked up a quill before—how else would you have signed all those detentions?” She propped her chin in her hand, her expression filled with feigned thoughtfulness. “Though, I imagine those are more co-signatures than solo ventures because no doubt Sirius, Remus and Peter were involved too.”

Her grin softened at his chuckle, though the teasing didn’t falter. “Still, you might be right. If you really applied yourself, the sheer brilliance of it all might collapse Hogwarts under the weight of your genius. I’d never get any studying done with McGonagall fainting in the halls, Remus sulking in the corner, and, worst of all, me having to admit that James Potter actually impressed me.”

She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms. “So, for the good of wizarding society, I agree—stick to the practicals. That way, the rest of us can keep up without your monumental brilliance overshadowing us.” The glint in her eyes betrayed her amusement as she picked up her quill and turned back to her parchment, though not without a final teasing glance his way.

"Exactly." A smile followed the tipping of his head, almost as though he was taking his crown off to her. "Why waste time flipping through pages upon pages when you can simply exist near the knowledge?" His gaze levelled with hers. "It's worked wonders for me. Really cleared up my schedule."

"As mentioned," James said, the whisp of a smile on his lips, "Osmosis helps you learn many things. Though I would advise against improper use of such a charm. It would cause chaos, I believe." He nodded his head as if to approve of his own point. "And we both know I am adamantly against chaos." Truthfully, he couldn't see what good the use of a flirting glow charm would have - much less have any reason to use it. It was a similar tactic to amortentia, which just did not work. Would you ever feel happy with the result?

"A very prestigious reference, that. Bound to propel you to an O." Those titles sat pretty well with James, if he was honest. "Scholarly indeed. I'll have to officially adopt those titles."

James propped himself up on one elbow, leaning against the table and feigning a look of utmost distress. “Mary, you wound me,” he drawled, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. "I've been known to pick up a quill or two in my time." He cocked his head. "But it is better done as little as possible. Chaos ensues, even with my best intentions." Fingers tapped against the desk. "Professors fainting from the sheer academic brilliance, Remus disowning me out of frustration, you having to admit you're impressed." A low chuckle filled the otherwise quiet library. "No, better to stick to the practicals where possible." He smiled, leaning back and running a hand through his already mussed hair.

“First of all, it was Enchantments for the Moderately Ambitious, thank you very much, and I finished reading that yesterday— this, I'll have you know, is a muggle novel.” Remus retorted, shooting James a mock glare as he tucked the book tighter against his chest. “And second—if you’re feeling neglected, you’ve got no one to blame but yourself. You’re the one who decided Sirius’ bad ideas were a better use of your time than keeping me company earlier.”

He tilted his head slightly, eyebrows arching as James’ pout morphed into full-blown theatrics. “Oh, the tragedy of poor, forsaken James Potter,” he said dryly, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Trapped indoors while the world turns! Forced to entertain himself without resorting to actual effort. What a fate.”

Remus finally sighed, closing the book with exaggerated care and letting it rest on his lap. “Fine. Five minutes. But don’t think I’m going to chase you around the Quidditch pitch or wrestle with you like Padfoot. My day’s been peaceful, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

He glanced out the window, squinting at the perfectly blue sky, and then back at James, whose grin was somehow as bright as the sunlight outside. “Expand my mind in other ways,” Remus echoed, feigning thoughtfulness. “You mean like how you expanded it the last time you convinced me to come outside? I’m still recovering from the fallout of your ‘charming’ use of that levitation charm on Sirius.”

But he couldn’t quite keep the amusement out of his voice as he stood, leaving the book carefully on the chair. “Come on then, Potter. You’ve got five minutes to prove this isn’t a terrible idea.”

“Chill out, Moony," James smiled, still reaching for the book his friend clutched like he couldn't bear to be torn from it. "I’m not trying to ruin the riveting love affair you've got going on with Advanced Spells for Overachievers-" he grunted. "-or whatever that is.”

"Guilty." He said with the blinding flash of a smile. "And some of us are feeling neglected." An overexaggerated pout forged its way onto James' faced, only slightly marred by the fact he had just been smiling. "I'm just saying, you've been glued to that for hours. It can't be that interesting." One final attempt at reaching for Remus' new love interest, and James finally gave up, hands in the air in defeat. "Come on. Sirius is off doing Merlin-knows-what, Peter’s probably off whispering sweet nothings to the kitchen's elves, and here I am: dangerously close to falling asleep from boredom... in the middle of the day!”

He flopped down beside Remus. “What do I want, you ask? Only your undivided attention for five minutes. Maybe seven." Looking doe-eyed at his best mate, James relented. "Okay, maybe a lot longer than that. But look, it's nice out!" He pointed out the window, through which he could miraculously see the blue sky. "And you're making me stay indoors. It's not right."

James nudged the corner of the book with a finger, grinning as he added: “Come on, Moony. Expand your mind in other ways.”

{ alecto tag dump }

ASLIHAN MALBORA via Instagram

Narcissa’s lips twitched, the barest flicker of amusement threatening to break her practised poise. She tilted her head, her pale hair catching the soft glow of the light, and regarded James with the kind of cool detachment reserved for overly eager performers.

"Ah, yes," she began, her tone a perfect blend of dryness and sharpness, "your happy helping of arrogance, recklessness, and that unyielding Gryffindor optimism. A truly baffling concoction. It’s a wonder you’ve made it this far without collapsing under the weight of it all."

She closed her book with a deliberate slowness, letting the pause linger just long enough to keep him guessing. When she spoke again, her voice was softer but no less cutting, with an edge carefully hidden beneath her smooth delivery. "You’re fortunate, James. Most wouldn’t tolerate such impudence. But then, I suspect you’ve always counted on your audacity to carry you through. I hear you have a knack for landing on your feet—no matter how recklessly you leap."

Her gaze briefly caught his, the faintest flicker of something teasing glinting in her eyes before she glanced at the book. She ran a finger along its spine, as if reminding herself that she had far better uses for her time, though the smirk playing at her lips suggested otherwise. "As for my reading," she said, her voice now laced with mockery, "it’s hardly the sort of thing you’d grasp easily. Some pursuits, after all, require more than sheer determination and an oversized grin."

She leaned back slightly, crossing her arms with the grace of someone who knew exactly how to command attention without asking for it. After a brief pause, her smirk deepened, a glimmer of amusement finally betraying her mask of indifference.

"Still," she continued, her voice lowering ever so slightly, "do feel free to keep trying to amuse me, James. Who knows? One of these days, you might even succeed."

With that, she reopened her book, her expression calm and composed, though her eyes betrayed the faintest spark of intrigue—a sign, perhaps, that she found him far more entertaining than she’d ever admit.

James grinned, large and proud. It was the kind of grin that could disarm or infuriate, depending on the other person. Although knowing the blonde before him, he anticipated the latter, but ever optimist, James thought today might just be the day she would surprise him. Still, he didn't shy away from a challenge, so he settled into what was now his seat with warmth. He wouldn't have joined Narcissa had he bothered to look (and would make a note to do so next time), but as it happened, he was willing to ride the wave today. And most others, if he was honest.

"Well, good morning to you too, Narcissa," he said brightly. The juxtaposition between their tones might've been jarring without context. "I see you've been working on that winning personality of yours. That's an E for Exceeds Expectations. Keep it up and you might just earn that O you've been vying for."

James' eyes moved to the book as she placed it, with purpose, on the table before them. Pulled away from it by her continued line of questioning, he peered up at her again. James wasn't sure whether he'd rather dodge her curses or her questions. But, ever the good sport, he plowed on ahead. "Oh, how well you know me. Let's say it's a happy helping of all three." He raised his brows a moment, his bright smile still plastered onto his lips. "Besides, you know you secretly live for these little interruptions of mine."

James leaned in again, eyeing the book. "So, what is it today? A gripping tale about the trials and triumphs of good, old-fashioned wizarding families? Or a thrilling essay on the remarkable allure of whatever shade of emerald you'll no doubt be wearing to Sluggie's Christmas Party?"

my youth is yours