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Regulus Black sits at the Slytherin table and watches her.
He doesn’t understand how anyone could look at her and not realize the truth; it’s as plain as the gold on a Galleon.
Lily Evans has porcelain skin and features as beautifully arranged as any pureblood. Her hair, when the light hits it just right, is vermilion. She showed up a “New Blood” on the Hogwarts Express, claiming to have an eidetic memory that she used to absorb all the proper rules and protocol from the entire compendium of Blood Moste Pure. She was a hatstall for twelve minutes before it finally called out “Gryffindor,” and due to her intelligence, everyone seems to think it was deciding between that and Ravenclaw.
But what Regulus can’t believe no one else seems to have realized, is that her eyes are the exact same shade as emeralds.
When Lily leaves the Great Hall, loudly, but politely, refusing James Potter’s offer of escort to Hogsmeade, Regulus follows her.
They are the only two people in the entrance hall when Lily turns to face him. The smile on her face doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Can I help you, Master Black?”
Regulus checks the portraits in sight, but they’re all empty of occupants at the moment. So he tucks his left foot behind his right, places his right fist over his heart, and bows at the waist. He doesn’t hold the position as long as he wishes to, because he can’t chance someone seeing.
When he stands back up, her eyes are narrowed, but delighted.
“Well, aren’t you a sharp one?” Lily asks softly.
“As you say, Miss Evans.”
Regulus almost chokes on the false name and title. It feels blasphemous to speak to her thus now that he’s figured it out.
“Escort me to Hogsmeade, Master Black,” Lily orders.
Taking a deep breath, Regulus folds his hands behind his back and walks to her side, making sure not to touch her. If he does, even on accident, death awaits him.
He says, “Thank you for this honor.”
Lily winks at him, hiding her Slytherin family emerald green iris from him for just a moment. Then she turns and leads the way, as her father is leading the way in reforming the Dark Court.
Regulus, wise and intrigued, follows.
Regulus Black is walking to the library with Master Bartemius Crouch Jr. when he comes upon a Ravenclaw he doesn’t recognize — must be a Mudblood, then — saying to High Heiress Slytherin Miss Lily Evans, “Help a bloke out. The dare’s for a single kiss, Evans.”
“Bombarda!” Regulus casts without even hesitating, despite the many witnesses.
The Ravenclaw screams in agony, clutching at his ruined mess of a left shoulder, now several feet away from Lily.
“Why in Mordred’s name did you do that, Reg?” Barty hisses. “Half the bloody school saw that. You’ll have detention for a month. If you don’t get expelled.”
“I don’t care,” Regulus bites out.
His magic is raging and seething inside him at the thought of a filthy Mudblood forcing romantic attention on an Oligarchy maiden. He doesn’t have words for how utterly vile the wretch is to dare even glance her way. But to attempt to misuse her on a dare?
If Regulus is expelled for it, his mother will congratulate him and buy him whatever he wants before gleefully arranging for the best tutors.
Lily walks over to Regulus and Barty, the Head Girl badge on her robes glinting in the torchlight, and holds out a hand. “Your wand, Master Black.”
Regulus wishes that he could offer her the bow that she deserves by virtue of blood and magic. He wishes that he could speak her true title and have everyone who’s anyone know that his actions are just and righteous. But he will do nothing to ruin her plans. He still doesn’t know why she’s at Hogwarts under a false name, but he’ll not be the cause of the Dark Court’s downfall; whatever her aim is, outing her as a member of the Oligarchy would surely ruin it.
He hands her his wand hilt-first, without complaint. “Miss Evans.”
Lily twirls his wand in her hand and then flicks it. A shower of sparks spills out of the tip. “It’ll do.”
Before Regulus can ask for clarification, Lily draws her own wand and offers it to him hilt-first. The sudden silence in the hallway is intense, all eyes on him.
Regulus accepts it with steady hands as if she hasn’t just proposed to him unexpectedly, as if they’ve been Courting for years and this is the next logical step. As if she’s not secretly saying he’s worthy of the Slytherin name — that she wants him as High Heir-Consort Slytherin.
Lily swishes away without speaking another word.
“What in Mordred’s name just happened?” Barty demands.
And Regulus, staring dazedly at the engraved willow wand in his hand says, “A miracle.”