IV —— ... death eater by association?

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          "I AM HORRIFIED. CONFUSED. UPSET." Georgia's arms are crossed as her and Fianna sit down in the Great Hall. The rest of the journey saw Fianna and Regulus lying to their friends, both Pandora and Georgia completely dumb-struck that the two were found kissing in the toilets. The two had quickly agreed that if they wanted the Aurors off their case, they'd have to play along for a little longer, awkwardly listening to their respective best friends vent about the bombshell news.

It followed Fianna back to school, too, with Georgia still in shock. Fianna keeps on glancing around, feeling the amount of eyes staring at her. Thank God the head girl and boy don't have to do anything for the start of term assembly, because she'd rather burn at the stake than stand in front of an entire school that knows she was found by Aurors, seemingly about to shag Regulus Black in the toilets. If she hadn't lived up to Marauder's sibling by this point, she's certainly earned it now.

"Look, I didn't expect for it to happen," says Fianna, completely meaning it. What is she going to do, when her brother finds out? Her parents won't mind, but Remus? Not only the best friend of Regulus' disowned brother, but a member of the group committed to stopping Voldemort? Fianna is doomed. She feels like her morals have been put on the backburner, as she miserably thanks the fact that no one else knows Regulus, her apparent boyfriend, is a Death Eater. Does that mean... she's a Death Eater by association? She wants to be tied to a stake, stat.

"I should've known," says Georgia.

That takes Fianna by surprise.

"What do you mean?" she says.

"No one remembers someone's order when it's that weird," says Georgia.

Fianna pauses. "... What's wrong with Earl Grey?"

"Here you go again!" Georgia, ashamed, shakes her head. "It's a snob's English Breakfast! I cannot believe that not only are you dating the prick, Regulus Black, but the prick, Regulus Black, who's favourite drink is Earl Grey!"

"I... don't mind Earl Grey..."

"You need to have a word with yourself," says Georgia, very seriously.

Thankfully, the Sorting Ceremony concludes itself; the Sorting Hat is put away for another year, but not before Fianna can cast a dirty look its way, eternally scarred from her six minutes in hell on her first day of school. The school choir file out, standing in two neat lines in front of the teachers. Professor Flitwick, their Charms teacher and the head of the choir, stands in front of them, waving his wand like a conductor's baton. With a light tap, the choir burst into a rendition of Islands in the Stream. Fianna bites her lip to stifle her laughter. Clearly school is trying to show the appeal of muggles... but Fianna isn't sure that this is the best song for it. Fleetwood Mac, however? That'd convert any Death Eater into a fan of muggles, even if Fianna's unconvinced Stevie Nicks is a muggle herself.

After the choir finish, Dumbledore takes their place. Fianna checks her watch, her stomach starting to churn with hunger. She hopes that Dumbledore's speech is quick, so she can eat soon.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! As always, I want to extend the merriest of welcomes to our first years. I hope you settle in with ease, and that the older students help you feel welcome and, of course, an important member of your house." Dumbledore pauses for a second; Fianna looks at the Gryffindor first years, all beady eyes and oversized uniforms. "I think this year is as important as ever for us to emphasise the importance of community."

Fianna and Georgia exchange a look; apparently, in-between the chaos of Fianna and Regulus, a Slytherin seventh year called Gus Rookwood was found to have a Dark Mark, and was arrested by the Aurors. Selfishly, Fianna felt relieved by the news — if they've arrested one, hopefully they won't go sniffing around again for a while.

It does make Fianna nervous, though. Gus and Regulus hang around in the same group, alongside Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch Jr. and Pandora. If two of them are Death Eaters, Fianna can only assume the other half are, as well... And you never know, Pandora could be lying about her disinterest in the whole thing, to keep the scent off her...

And that's just their group — what if there's more Death Eaters lurking in Hogwarts uniforms, or students planning to join them one day? Fianna feels as though she needs to hold her tongue, now more than ever. If the wrong person overhears my mum is a muggle and my brother is a werewolf, she's dead...

... Which feels easier said than sorry, now that her apparent boyfriend is a Death Eater. (She prays to God, as muggle-ish as it is, that she does not have to spend a single minute with any of Regulus' death-eating friends. Ew, ew, ew!)

"One of our own was found to be a Death Eater today. And, I know there may be more amongst us — or people thinking about choosing that path." There's a pause. Fianna can feel Georgia staring at her, the blonde's new allegiance with Regulus Black giving her a target. "All I say to you is this — no one can choose our bloodline, and it is unfair to judge someone on this. Lend a friendly hand to someone new this year... You may gain the unlikeliest of friends."

Fianna glances over at the Slytherin table, on the opposite end of the Great Hall. Unluckily, she catches Regulus' gaze, who awkwardly looks away from her as Evan Rosier whispers something to him. There's a gap between Barty Crouch and Pandora, as if the boys had left space for their since-expelled friend.

"Before we tuck in, I have one final announcement," says Dumbledore. Fianna wishes she could groan. Her stomach cartwheels, famished. "Due to the current environment, Hogwarts is taking extra safety precautions this year. This includes reduced hours in Hogsmeade on the weekends — including a provisional ban on students leaving the grounds to attend part-time jobs—"

"What?" Fianna hisses to Georgia, furious.

"—On that note, tuck in!"

Dumbledore motions with his hand; every component of a Sunday roast appears in the middle of the four tables, and as Georgia and Fianna grapple with the news that they're provisionally unemployed, a bowl of roast vegetables appears in-between them.

But Fianna ignores the hunger in her stomach for now; she climbs out from the bench, and starts walking towards the teachers' table. She climbs up the steps, standing in front of Dumbledore.

"Hello, Miss Lupin," says Dumbledore, joyfully. "Have you tried the roast parsnips? The house-elves spent the entire summer perfecting them."

Fianna's empty stomach takes this as a personal attack. First, she's unemployed, and second, he talks about not just food, but her favourite part of a roast?

"Hi," she says, trying to rush through the pleasantries. "I haven't yet — I wanted to ask about banning part-time jobs. Should me and Prewett have been involved in that conversation...?"

"I'm sorry, but it's a matter of safety," says Dumbledore. "Some students — and I know this doesn't include you — may pretend to have a job elsewhere, and use the freedom to transport as a way to attend Death Eater meetings. I hope if we stop these students from such, we can encourage them to choose the right path."

Fianna thinks, oh, yeah, because stopping being a Death Eater is the same as handing in a notice to a manager. She's trying to get her way, though, and her head of house, McGonagall, is right next to Dumbledore, so Fianna tries to stay polite.

"I just—This doesn't seem fair!"

"Sometimes life isn't fair, Lupin," says McGonagall.

Fianna goes quiet, containing her anger. I know life isn't fair, this entire day hasn't been fair! She thinks about the amount of money she's now going to lose out on, simply because she can't work her Saturday shift anymore. She can't visit her parents, she can't see her brother — for the first time since she got this job in fourth year, she's completely and utterly trapped in the fucking Scottish highlands until Christmas!

"OK," says Fianna, through gritted teeth. "Thanks, anyway."

"Enjoy the parsnips!" says Dumbledore, who must know how angry she is.

She sits back down opposite Georgia, a roast parsnip already shoved in her mouth as she fills Georgia in. "I cannot believe this, I had an entire list of clothes I wanted to buy with this month's wages!"

"It's all the Death Eaters' faults," says Georgia, bitterly. She looks down at the chicken leg in her hand, and then uses it to point to Fianna. "Tell your boyfriend I said that."

Fianna doesn't say anything about that. Instead, she angrily eats her food, wishing she could go back in time, and hit reset on today. She wouldn't have gone with Regulus to find a hiding spot, she would've found a way to stop this no-job nonsense. This is all a nightmare, with most of it miserably falling back to her stupid decision to help Regulus Black on the train.

She doesn't regret going to help him — don't ask why she feels so protective of him, she doesn't quite get it herself, but the guilt would've been gnawing away at her, if she knew he was in troubled waters, and she didn't go to help. The other Death Eaters, the ones he's friends with? They can get fucked, for all she cares, but Regulus is different... God, now I'm starting to sound like who everyone thinks I am, she thinks, feeling grossed-out. She feels protective, but she doesn't fancy him like that, ew!

Her grimace follows her from the Gryffindor table to the hallway outside, as she tells herself she needs to sort herself out, before the first years think they've got a bitch for a head girl. But, before she can think anything else of it, a hand grabs her, pulling her away from the crowd of students walking to their common rooms.

She's pulled into the servants' corridor next to the Great Hall, empty since the house-elves magic the dirty plates into the kitchens. Fianna snatches her arm back, as Regulus looks back at her. She glares at him.

"What now?" she says.

"We've got a problem," he says.

"I know, everyone thinks I'm dating a Death Eater—"

"Keep your voice down!"

"No one's here!" Fianna lets out a sigh, running her fingers through her hair. "I'm sorry, it's been a shitty day... I've essentially lost my job."

"I saw," says Regulus.

She frowns. "What...?"

"Well, I saw you walk up to Dumbledore, I figured it was about that," says Regulus, shrugging. He pauses for a second, like there's something else on his mind. Turns out there is, because then he adds, "Plus, the second my friends saw you go up to him, they started talking about my girlfriend."

Fianna's lips twist, grossed out. "I'm not gonna get used to that."

"Am I that ugly?" says Regulus, looking at her funnily.

She gives him a dirty look, crossing her arms. "I'm not answering that. You're still Sirius' brother, and I refuse to feed your ego."

"Well, beside the fact you find me attractive—" Regulus pauses, and smiles cheekily at the rotten look on Fianna's face. "—they're going to realise that we lied if we don't figure out something... I don't know anything about you."

"We can just say we were too busy shagging to talk," says Fianna, shrugging.

Regulus looks at her oddly... She doesn't think he can look at her, without seeming confused. But, he regains himself, and says, "I don't think my mother, who will inevitably hear about this, will be impressed by that... nor our brothers."

The thought of being nice to Walburga Black makes Fianna sick. It's quickly sinking in, too, that she's going to have to be smart to keep her own mother's bloodline — and the lack of magic in it — secret. Not to mention her brother... God, she regrets this, so much.

"OK, first rule — I do not have to meet your mother," says Fianna. "If she comes to visit Hogsmeade, I'm going to have to have tonsillitis, or something."

"My mother never visits, so that's redundant," he says, dismissively.

Fianna feels a twinge of guilt. She knew Walburga and Orion never visited Sirius, but she thought it was because he was a blood-traitor, the second he was sorted into Gryffindor; she presumed Regulus, their golden boy, would've had different treatment.

"I just meant that she'll find out, and so if she asks when I do see her in the future..."

"OK, OK." Fianna checks her watch; she's got head girl duties shortly, and she needs to organise a game plan with Georgia, if they still want to sneak out to the Hog's Head. "I need to go — are you going to the pub later? We can find somewhere quiet and talk about this properly then."

"I guess I'll have to," says Regulus.

Fianna raises an eyebrow. "Better things to do?"

Regulus takes a minute to respond. Fianna's mind goes back to that conversation in Borgin & Burkes. He seemed pretty please to hear an hour's work a day, which suggests that whatever he's planning on doing, he can do it at Hogwarts. Hm.

"Get there for eleven," says Fianna. She knows the corridor will still be full of students, and she really doesn't want everyone thinking the new head girl is sneaking around restricted areas with a boy. She remembers this part of the Marauder's Map, though, and knows it loops round, with a small window looking out of the courtyard. "Don't follow me... Leave in like, five minutes."

Regulus gives her a look. "You're a bossy girlfriend."

"Suck my dick," says Fianna, annoyed.

She runs off, down the hallway towards the window. It's an old castle, so it's one of those shitty ones without a window pane, something she'd normally find annoying (how has no one, in the past three hundred years, invested in some glass panels to reduce this place's energy bill?) if she didn't need to climb out of it. She hoists herself up, checking no one is around before she breathes in, her body being replaced by a swan's. Quickly, she launches herself off of the ledge, disappearing into the sky, finding somewhere closer to Gryffindor tower to transform back into herself. When she's in this body, everything human seems so far away — a thought that makes her sigh, as she lands back on the ground as the blonde seventeen-year-old.

Swans don't have to fake date, she thinks, unimpressed.

🦢

          FIANNA IS WEARING HER FAVOURITE blouse, a ruffled lime-green one that's slightly sheer, so she wears a black crocheted bralette underneath. She's wearing her favourite jeans, too, feeling like she needs all of the comfort possible to get through this evening. What was meant to be a fun little drink, with a quick chat with Prewett about her head girl agenda, has since transformed into a beast. Now, her night isn't about gin and lemonades, but rather, how to get away with fake dating Regulus Black.

She's already promised that she'll speak to Prewett tomorrow instead — thank God he was already three Firewhiskey shots in when she arrived, so it seemed like she was just being thoughtful. Now, Fianna, her hair dyed ginger for the evening, is standing near the bar with Georgia, as Pandora talks to them giddily about having a girl in their friendship group.

"I love those guys, really — but it's all war and no games with them!" says Pandora. She's tried to dress like Narcissa Black, which has resulted in a Gothic Stevie Nicks ensemble. "Slytherin are no fun. Barty, Evan, and Gus would never step foot in here... Well, Reg wouldn't either, normally..."

Here's the thing: the other houses mingle, but the Slytherins keep to themselves. It's only really Pandora that interacts with them all, but she's always been the black sheep of her family. Fianna knows that some of the other Slytherins give her odd looks for it, but then, who's going to actually make a comment, when she's a Malfoy? As long as she's a member of her family, she's golden. Well... silver.

"It all makes sense now," says Georgia, shrugging. Apparently, she's slowly coming around to the idea — something that makes Fianna feel guilty, because there's no relationship for her to even accept. "Like, he was a regular at work, but he never visited when it was just me..."

Fianna frowns, because that is a little odd. But she can't question it; instead, she smiles weakly and shrugs, pretending that her fake relationship blossomed over Earl Greys and the smell of fresh coffee. It strikes her, too, that this is the only relationship she's ever been involved in... give her a few more gins, and she will be upset about that.

"What have you got planned for head girl, though?" says Pandora. Regrettably, a lightbulb flickers in Fianna's mind. If she is dating Regulus for the time being, she's a Slytherin by association... meaning she can swan into their good books, and get them on board with her plans.

So Fianna smiles lightly. "I wanna restart the Duelling Club — light magic, dark magic, I think we all could do with more combat help," she says, but she can see Pandora's interest floating away, so she switched tactics. "And, you know, I really want a Yule Ball..."

Pandora's eyes are dazzling with excitement. "You do?"

Fianna thinks, Bingo.

"Uh-huh," she says. "I know it's traditionally on Christmas, but I think with the current climate people will want to see their families over the holidays, so instead I'm going to ask if we can have it just before we break up..."

"That would be amazing," says Pandora. "I've started making my own dresses over the summer — my last one was themed after a caterpillar, so maybe for Christmas I can design something to fit..."

Georgia seems to have picked up on what Fianna's doing, because she adds, "We were thinking of getting some signatures, to prove that the students want it — maybe, Pandora, you can pass it around Slytherin?"

"Totally!" says Pandora, unaware she's being played like a violin.

"That would be amazing," says Fianna, thankful.

"Don't even mention it." Pandora smiles. "I think we need something uplifting like this."

Prewett then appears behind them, putting a hand on Fianna's shoulder. "How's the head girl, eh?" he says, and he smiles at the other two. "I cannot believe you kept you and Black secret!"

Fianna smiles weakly. "I'm full of surprises, I guess..."

"George, me and Jordan are gonna get drinks for the whole team — what do you fancy?"

You, duh, Fianna thinks, watching her best friend's eyes light up.

"Uh—"

"They've got specials over there, I'll show you," he tells Georgia. She gives Fianna a confused look, but Fianna grins back, throwing her a thumbs-up.

Fianna's about to think, Oh God, I'm here, alone, with Pandora Malfoy, but before she can think of a conversation starter, Pandora's eyes glint with excitement, spotting someone behind her.

"Odette." Regulus' voice quietly sounds from behind Fianna; before she can react, he's slipped his hand into hers. Her heart stops. Is she Odette? What kind of pet name is that? That's so specific — why would he say that? That's the princess from Swan Lake, that's such a weird nickname. Unless he knows that's her Animagus...?

"Fianna was telling me about her plans to have a Yule Ball," says Pandora, excitedly.

"Oh, really?" says Regulus, because this is, in fact, news to him. Pandora nods, and he seems to play it off. "She's clever, isn't she?"

Fianna feels incredibly weird.

"Uh, Panda, I need to speak to Fianna about something in private," says Regulus, uncomfortably. "I'll see you in a few minutes?"

"Sure," says Pandora, who's already wandering off, the word nargles escaping her lips as she joins the closest group's conversation.

Fianna looks up at Regulus; she stands at a measly four foot ten, so he's an entire foot taller than her, his lanky body towering over her. If they were actually dating, she feels like the logistics would be all wrong — how could she even reach his face to kiss him? She guesses she did on the train, but then, he had grabbed her so harshly that maybe he did pick her up without her fully noticing...

"Odette?" she says, trying to contain her panic.

Regulus looks at her incredulously. "Would you prefer something else?"

"You could just say Fee," says Fianna.

"I don't like nicknames, I think they spoil perfectly good names," he says. She thinks back to the minute before, when he called Pandora Panda. He's so weird.

"So... you called me... an entirely different one?" she says. "Why Odette, anyway?"

"Like the ballet," says Regulus, with a shrug. "Mother always took us."

"I thought that was a muggle..."

"No, no, no." He shakes his head with an arrogant confidence akin to Sirius. She raises an eyebrow. "Tchaikovsky is clearly too talented to be a muggle." You haven't tried my mum's cakes, Fianna thinks miserably. "Mother would take us to one in Paris every Christmas. They'd alternate between performing that and The Nutcracker."

"You're a nutcracker," she says, regretting her life choices. "C'mon."

They're still holding hands, much to her dismay, so she uses it to pull her away from everyone else. There's a meeting room upstairs, which she knows is going to look dodgy to everyone, but she miserably accepts that everyone thinks they've fucked, anyway. Gigi hasn't even seen me naked, Fianna thinks, feeling even more single than before she gained a fake boyfriend.

"So, game plan." Fianna drops Regulus' hand the second the door closes, wiping her palm on her jeans, trying to scrub off the memory of his touch on her skin. First he's a Slytherin, second he's Sirius' brother, and now, he's chortling around acting like some muggle isn't actually a muggle, and was instead appropriated by some Parisian wizards. "I think we need a deadline for this relationship."

Regulus looks at her oddly. "Am I not who you thought I'd be?"

"No, you're precisely what I imagined," she says with a sneer.

He gives her a dirty look, but she doesn't care. 'Muggles can't be talented'? Get a fucking grip, she thinks, already annoyed.

"So. We got together over the summer, because you kept on coming into my work," she says, recapping the current faux timeline. "I was there, gorgeous as always, and you couldn't help but fall head over heels in love." Regulus scoffs. Fianna raises a finger. "That's no way to treat your girlfriend, Black."

"Forgive me, I beg," he says, dryly, putting a hand on his heart.

Fianna reels in the mountains of insults she wants to throw in his face. "I guess we just need to roll with this bullshit for now... but I think we should end things at Christmas."

Instead of arguing — something she had prepared for, honestly — Regulus pauses, then nods. "Yeah, that would work for me, too," he says. She wants to press him about what that even means, but she remembers his conversation in Borgin & Burkes, about how he needed something fixing in time for Christmas. "If your Yule Ball goes ahead, let's say then exactly. Then we don't need to endure the misery of pretending to be together for that."

"Charming," says Fianna, frowning.

"I'm just being honest," says Regulus.

This seems too specific for him, she thinks. What is he planning for the Yule Ball...?

"OK," says Fianna, deciding to dig deeper. She's got plenty of time — almost four months, in fact. "Eve of the Yule Ball, we end things. Deal?"

Regulus stands forwards, extending his hand for her to shake. "Deal."

Fianna looks down; he's using his right arm, the one without the Dark Mark. She's still uncomfortable from the torturous fifteen minutes holding his hands, though, and the horrifying making out on the train, so she waves his hand away. "We don't need to shake. I've touched you enough today."

"Right." Regulus doesn't speak for a second, stunned by what she's just said. She feels bad, and recognises that maybe she was a little too mean... but she doesn't like any of this, and that includes skin-to-skin contact with him. Her hand still feels prickly from when he held it. "So... I guess... we need to learn some details about each other."

"You like ballet," says Fianna. "And don't think muggles can be talented."

"Shut up," says Regulus. "I mean, like, what... music do you like?"

Fianna can't think of any wizard bands — because they're all shitty clones of muggle icons. She knows she's got enough on him to rat him out to the Order and the Aurors, so she doesn't feel too nervous when she boldly goes, "Fleetwood Mac."

It's what Stevie would've wanted.

"Who are—?"

"A muggle rock band," says Fianna. "They had an album come out earlier this year, called Rumours, and it is the greatest album of all time—"

"... Muggle?" he says, concerned.

"Muggle," says Fianna. "I'll find you a copy sometime."

"Please don't—"

"You have to endure it, you're my boyfriend."

Regulus glares at her. Fianna smiles back.

"Mine's The Craven Cult, thanks for asking," he says.

Fianna crosses her arms. "What's with you and cults?"

"The Death Eaters are not—"

"You can put a beak on a dog, but it's still a fucking dog," says Fianna, rolling her eyes. "So... who are they?"

"They're a wizard rock band, there's four of them — but their last album is about the breakup of two of the band members, who were together—"

"So... Fleetwood Mac," she says. Or ABBA, she thinks, but decides he isn't ready for that. Introducing Regulus to ABBA at this state would be like giving a Victorian child McDonalds.

"No," says Regulus. "They came out with an album this summer, called Heresay—"

Fianna bursts out laughing.

"What songs were on there?" she asks.

"Uh, one called, Nightmares, another called The Shackles..." he trails off, watching Fianna wipe tears of laughter from her cheeks. He looks offended. "What now?"

"I think you'd die and go to heaven if you heard Stevie Nicks sing," says Fianna, finally calming down.

Regulus scoffs. "Yeah, and you Niamh Sticks—"

"Oh my God!" Fianna puts her hands over her face, struggling to contain herself. "You're so funny.

"Stop! We've got interests to cram," says Regulus, getting annoyed.

Fianna bites on her lip, hoping it'll contain the last of her giggles. "OK... So what... other interests do you have?" she says. "Aside from eating death and watching the ballet."

He scoffs at eating death, which gives her a bit of validation with her joke. "Uh... I can play the piano, and the violin. Mother says it's a very good show of character, having the perseverance to learn to play an instrument well," he begins. Fianna's glad she'll never have to meet the moron he calls Mother. "Obviously, I like Quidditch — my family support the French team, though—"

"Since your family's French?" says Fianna.

"Centuries ago, but yes," he says with a nod.

"Me and Remus support Ireland for the same reason," says Fianna. "Although it's my mum that's Irish..."

Her dad was never super into Quidditch, but he quickly converted to an Ireland supporter when he met Hope. Apparently she was excited that it was her country that dominated the leaderboards; the beauty of her happiness was enough for him to give up the little loyalty he once had for the British team. Remus and Fianna were always Ireland supporters.

"What house was she in here?" says Regulus.

"She was homeschooled," Fianna quickly lies. She's gotten the knack for it lately. "Her parents weren't having their kid mix with the English... Imagine the horror when she moved here."

As long as he never meets her mother, and hears her Yorkshire accent, he'll never think twice about her fabricated tale.

"Oh, Merlin," says Regulus, suddenly. "What's going to happen, when we've got to compete against each other at Quidditch?"

Fianna hadn't thought of that yet. But she is now: the two of them, both Seekers, chasing towards the same Snitch. She can imagine the commentary, the whispers, the looks. They'd have to play it very carefully, to treat the other with kindness, the way a partner would in spite of the competition. Not as what they actually are — not even friends, and barely acquaintances, who have elbowed the other to get to the Snitch before. She's had enough of this getting to know each other malarky.

"I think I'll have a mental breakdown if I think that through, right now," she says, shaking her head. "Right. I'll give you a list of things I like. You do the same. Pass it to me, sometime this week?"

"Sounds good to me," Regulus nods. "And let's try and say hello to each other during every meal — publicly, of course."

Fianna internally groans. "OK."

🦢

          THE NEXT MORNING, REGULUS SPENDS his free period in the library, catching up on notes. He's always liked to stay on top of things, something his older brother used to tease him for. But, he shakes that memory from his head, as he picks up the books from the shelves, wanting to add more to certain points he made during class.

He walks back to his desk, to find an envelope with an unmarked record attached with a red ribbon, a white feather now sitting on his desk, too. He presumes the record is her silly muggle one, concealed so he doesn't have to walk around carrying a muggle vinyl. Part of him appreciates the compassion in that, how she doesn't even like him, and yet, he's protecting him from the judgement of his peers...

... But the appreciation dissolves, as he spots the pink glittery wax sealing the envelope, and the letter addressing him as Silly boy.

Fianna bloody Lupin, he thinks, counting down the days to Christmas.

this is v postgrad fee x reg (if he lived LOL)

anyways! hope u enjoyed!! lmk what you thought, and thank u so much for reading!!🩷🩷🫶🫶