Here Comes the Sun, Tag:: Reggie

[cecily a. moran]

She had been enormously surprised by her luck. It was the weekend, it was one of those rare sunny days in November, and the yards were still rather absent of masses of students. Though the lack of students could be due to the fact that it hadn't gotten over four degrees Celsius in the past week. The sun at least gave her some illusion of warmth though, whatever warmth her winter clothing didn't give her at least. Cecily enjoyed the sun too much to care about the cold though, and it wasn't raining and there was no snow on the ground yet. The cold wasn't even that bad anyways.

Seeing as she could see no one she particularly felt like talking to in the yard--it all seemed to be mostly first and second years at the moment--Cecily found herself a sunny patch of ground to lounge on with her ancient studies book. She still hadn't decided if she'd even get around to actually studying, but it was the thought that counted, right? Smiling a bit to herself she rested the large text next to her and laid back, arms behind her head, to take in the sun. She had a sneaking suspicion that this would most likely be only the start to a very long line of wet and dreary days. That's how this time of year usually worked out anyways.

In all honestly she would much rather be on the Quidditch pitch today but it had been reserved by Ravenclaw for their practice and they were rather peculiar about letting people from other Houses sit in on their practices. She wasn't sure why though. She had seen them play over and over again since coming to Hogwarts, and though they were good, it didn't seem like they were doing anything super secret and highly confidential. Cecily was fairly sure that they must have dreadful practices if the Captain keeps kicking people out of the stands.

Stifling a yawn, Cecily closed her eyes so she wasn't looking into the bright sun. If she was being honest, she wasn't overly put out about not being on the pitch today. It had been a long week and she was actually quite appreciative that the Ravenclaw team had put a halt to her plans. She loved learning all of what her classes had to offer her, but she was sure that if she had to spend another moment in the library this week her head would surely explode. She felt she just needed a break from writing essays and doing readings - just for one day at least.

Laying her head on the ground, Cecily folded her gloved hands over her stomach. Usually having someone talking to her at all times of the day, it was an interesting, but pleasant, sensation to be alone with her thoughts. Not that she really had anything really worthwhile to think about at the moment. The first few months back at Hogwarts had been a welcome change for Cecily - especially with no OWLs to worry about. Classes were going well and their Quidditch team seemed to be very strong this year. Not to mention she was around her friends and others her own age. Always a better alternative than being the last remaining child at home during the summer holidays.

Hearing footsteps nearby, Cecily peeked open one of her blue eyes and peered around the immediate area rather lazily. Not seeing anyone immediately around her - not that she really spent much time looking - Cecily closed her eyes again as she enjoyed the slight warmth that the sunlight offered despite the chill in the air.

[regulus a. black]

Boredom. That was something that Regulus cultivated like a carefully budded flower. Perfect ennui, aristocratic boredom, it went hand in hand with the usual façade of disdain that he wore around him. However, today, he was really bored. It wasn’t something he wore like a mask, something that denoted the status of the leisured classes, his class, but a real feeling of lacking anything at all to do. That was the feeling that took him out of the warmth of the dungeons and into the yard for some form of entertainment or recreation, anything at this point, to take his mind off the fact that he simply had nothing to do. Of course it was a form of procrastination. He could be writing his transfiguration essay that was going to be due right before the Christmas break. He could be doing the extra readings on next DADA class that the professor assigned him. Those were not viable options in his mind. It was far too early for him to be even concerned with such notions. Regulus was a fan of late nights, and while he was usually the studious type, as indicated by his marks, and he actually enjoyed studying most times (although Transfiguration was in a real of incomprehensibility that was quite beyond him), he didn’t like actually doing the work. That often lent itself to late nights at the library, unhappily enough, but he wasn’t changing this habit any time soon.

Walking out of the cloisters of the castle and onto the yard, he realized for the first time what a wonderful day it was. In the dungeons it was far too difficult to tell the weather and Regulus usually only found out when he got to the Great Hall. Neatly avoiding the Great Hall this time, Regulus experienced the weather for himself. It was cool, but a pleasant sort, with the sun out and very little wind, so that the cold reddened his cheeks rather than calloused it. He enjoyed this sort of half weather. It was also fortunate that not many people were around. It was the sort of weather for intimate conversations and quiet recollection, not the sort for throwing quaffles about. Some were doing just that however, a distance off, a group of second years were running about with a Quaffle, not talented enough to use broomsticks but pretending they were anyway. Regulus ignored them mostly.

He needed something to entertain him, and watching untalented players wasn’t it. He supposed he could go watch the Ravenclaws practise. That might have been marginally more entertaining. Certainly Mulciber would have told him to do it, but he really didn’t want the Ravenclaw captain’s wrath on his mind. If he was caught spying, as they called it, he would be kicked out, and while there was certainly no law against watching another team practise, it was generally considered bad form. Anyway, the captain was a bit of a git. Regulus was not in the mood to deal with gits at that particular moment. Besides, the Ravenclaws never did anything special in their practise anyway and Regulus didn’t care enough. Their seeker was not someone Regulus cared for, and he didn’t think he really needed to anyway. If he perhaps wanted to be lulled to sleep, he would go watch the Ravenclaws. Fortunately for them, he was rather inclined to stay awake at least until dinner.

It wasn’t until he was halfway across the yard that he saw Cecily. That was the entertainment he was looking for today. Someone to talk Quidditch with without actually talking Quidditch, and the rivalry between Hufflepuffs and Slytherin wasn’t so great as to negate such forms of conversation. They played different positions anyway and as long as they didn’t get into the argument of who was the better flyer (Regulus was, of course), then all conversations would be safe. The Hufflepuff house itself amused Regulus, whose family generally viewed it to be a bit of a joke. Certainly there were rather too many jokes associated with that house amongst the viler of his housemates, but Regulus never really took them seriously. He was too wellborn to do so. He didn’t feel the need to make fun of the Hufflepuffs because they were Hufflepuffs. Perhaps a part of Regulus still wished that Houses weren’t the defining factors in a person’s life, and after watching Sirius, he wanted to believe it.

As he approached her, he was silent, stopping just short of her textbook. A look of mischief crossed his face as he crouched down to nudge her, placing a hand over her eyes so that she could not see who he was, although Regulus knew it would have been rather easy for her to guess it. ”Hello my cute little poufsouffle.” French accent very pronounced, it was obvious that Regulus was not a native speaker but belonged to that specific posh class of British that learned French from an early age and ruined it with their posh British inflection. ”Having the book beside you as you sleep generally isn’t conducive to learning you know.”

[cecily a. moran]

She really needed to get better abou tackling her homework when she was actually motivated to do it. Waiting until a more convienent time to do such things didn't seem to be helping her any as it usually happened that convienent times also happened to be when she was least motivated and the most distracted. She just really did want to be doing homework early in the mornings. That was just...so depressing. Why do homework when she could be sleeping (not that she ever really slept in) or talking to other people? Anything but homework sounded good, really.

The sun on her face was rather relaxing, she didn't even notice the movement near her as Regulus crouched down. Feeling her heart momentarily jump out of her chest, Cecily arched an eyebrow in amusement. If she hadn't of recognized him by his voice alone, she would have know who it was just by the pet name he had given her. Nobody else called her that, she was pretty sure not many people even knew that poufsouffle was the French name for her house. Then again, why would they even have a need to know that?

Smiling, a small chuckle bubbling up, Cecily didn't make any motion to move. The warmth of his hand over her eyes was almost as relaxing as the sunlight. "Hello dearest Reggiekins." She said, copying his affectionate tone, but her Irish accent lacking of the flair that his English flecked French one had. She sighed, "But see, it is conductive to my sanity. The book is just an illusion of being productive." She explained to him a little coyly. She was rather happy to have the Slytherin here to distract her and entertain her. She had found through the years that he was quite useful for entertainment.

"Not that I mind the company, but what brings you out here today, Reg?" Quite a few of her Hufflepuff friends didn't really understand why she spent so much time in the company of a Slytherin, especially that of Regulus Black. Not to mention her recent associations with Barty. Some of the girls really didn't understand that one. But honestly, she was confused why they didn't understand. They really weren't that bad to hang out with. Maybe that was just her, though. "Or did you just miss my shining face so much you had to track me down?" She laughed, lifting a hand to fiddle with the pendant at her throat.

[regulus a. black]

Removing his hand after his identity was guessed, he stood up again. He put both his hands in his coat pockets and rocked back and forth on his heel, enjoying the sunlight almost as much as she was. It was one of those few fleeting moments of sun before the harsh Scottish winter settled in, and Regulus was keen on enjoying every moment, at least before he was forced to fly out in the godforsaken weather and look for a little golden ball among the snow. Now that he was out in such fine weather, he was determined to make it last. His body now covered most of the sunlight, that was shining on her, and the golden rays framed his head, making his hair seem more brown than black. Stealing the sunlight, his face was hidden in half shadow and for a moment Regulus was glad to have his dark hair so that it absorbed the warmth that fell upon him.

If he was displeased at the pet name ‘Reggiekins’, he did very well to hide it. Normally he didn’t allow anyone to call him that, but his mother and cousins did often insist on it, as did Sirius more often than Regulus would ever like to admit. It was a personal name, one reserved for the Black family and their most intimate associates. He spent half of his life trying to shake it off, or hide it at least, and most of his childhood associating it with his brother. Still, as sensitive as the name to him, he never showed it, and altogether forgave Cecily for using it. It was only fair after all, because he so often insisted on calling her a little Poufsouffle, which was exactly what she was. Regulus wasn’t a Reggiekins, but he acknowledged a trade-off when he saw one.

And it did sound sweeter in her Irish accent. Regulus didn’t come in contact with such an accent very often but some part of him liked it. It was different.

Either way, he was always amused at the French names for Hogwarts houses. He wondered what the Beauxbaton kids thought of such ridiculous sounding names as Poufsouffle and Serpentard. Of course he would never acknowledge, at least publically, that any translation of the Slytherin name was in anyway weird sounding, but that didn’t mean he didn’t think it. After all, he was one of those few students that were tutored in French as a child, all part of the Black’s training regime for little Black heirs, and so Regulus figured he might as well derive some sort of benefit from it, whether it was picking up girls or making fun of them.

”Am I to believe that you had this rare thing called sanity to begin with?” He teased, picking up the book to examine it. Ancient studies, one of Regulus’s favourite classes, he had already finished reading that exact book because, well, one had to pretend to be busy in order to avoid conversations one did not want in the Slytherin common room. Ancient studies was one of the viable books Regulus could read without falling asleep. ”I must say, your illusion isn’t very convincing.” He commented, a laugh in his voice not quite surfaced, ”But Ancient Studies, Poufsouffle? I am disappointed. You ought to pretend interest at least, for me?” Certainly most people knew of his interest in the subject.


”Of course, how could I ever go a day without seeing your lovely face? Regulus said evenly, inviting himself to take a seat beside Cecily so that they could converse more comfortably. ”You’re not that hard to track down, however. I was disappointed. I thought you’d present a bigger challenge. You shouldn’t be lying about in public you know, especially with Quidditch season on. I can’t promise my team’s going to play fair.” He was joking of course, rambling on because he wanted to take his mind off his own boredom, but a part of him was serious too. He was actually slightly fond of Cecily. Certainly she was a good flyer and those things earned Regulus’s respect in general. (Of course he was the better flyer but that was irrelevant). Anyway, he did not tell her the real reason he was about, the fact that he was bored out of his mind.

[cecily a. moran]

Feeling cold, she opened her eyes to see the he was blocking all of the sunlight from falling on her. She pouted, swatting her hand in his general direction, "You're blocking the sun you great nuisance!" Cecily teased, a small laugh present in her voice. She really was unable to be mean to someone for such a silly reason. After having been in the direct path of the sunlight for so long, she felt so cold now without it.

"Hmm, maybe you should charm your hair a shade or two lighter." She observed outloud, looking up at him and seeing how much lighter his hair looked in the sun than it did normally. "More dashing, less mysterious." Not that she'd think he'd ever do it, for all she knew that kind of thing might be thought of as a sin, an act of treachery in the Black family. She would never even pretend to understand his relatives. Honestly she found Regulus to be the sanest of the bunch. And the most tolerable. That brother of his was just so bloody annoying.

Pouting playfully, she swatted at his ankle, "I must be responsible for the little I have." The girl stated firmly, a smirk playing at her lips. It wasn't that she wasn't interested in the subject, granted she had only taken it in her third year solely because of Regulus' interest in the subject. Not that she would ever admit out loud to that. The boy didn't need another thing to boost his ego, or another thing to tease her about. No, one of them would have to be on their death bed before she ever told him of her long ago crush on, not just him, but both Black brothers. Admittedly, she really only regretted the crush on the eldest of the brothers now that she looked back on it.

"I am interested, just not today when the sun is oh so tempting."

She could have let out a sigh of relief as he sat down next to her, the warm sun washing over her again. "If I had known we were playing hide and seek I would have made it a bigger challenge for you to find me. You know very well how competitive I can be." A wicked smirk crossed her face. It was true she could be a little timid off the field and more prone to letting things slide in order to keep the peace. On the Quidditch field, however, she could be rather vicious in her pursuit to win. Though she wasn't very proud of doing so, knocking the other chasers off of brooms had happened more than once during a match. She didn't play dirty, just hard.

"Are you concerned for my safety, Reg? How sweet of you." She smiled, both sincere and teasing in her reply. She rolled over on her side so she could better see him while they talked. Cecily's perception on where she stood in friendships were never quite accurate. This had always been the case for Reg in particular as there would be days where she felt like they were extremely close, and other days where she only felt like an aquaintence. Whether this was his fault or her own faulty perceptions, she was never sure, but she was quite fond of him and his concern for her made her quite happy.