Gemma B.E. Higgs (herisson) wrote in reduxpitch, @ 2016-09-16 18:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, character: gemma higgs, character: regulus black |
who: gemma higgs & regulus black
where: gemma's place, and then the theatre… and then regulus' place.
when: Evening, Friday 16th
what: regulus and gemma go to see a play… then there's drama but no hanky panky
rating: low?
status: Completed in Docs
It wasn't until now that she was actually starting to feel a little nervous because she didn't really want things to go badly or potentially ruin their friendship. Before now Gemma had fortunately had the Falcons' first match of the season to distract and keep her mind off of the date she would be going on. Then there had also been last Friday when she'd caught up with Pippa, which had been nice and was also the main reason she even had an outfit for this evening. All through the week she'd been more or less okay, and certainly didn't feel distracted by her dream any longer. Having already put the last touches of makeup on she was currently looking through her wardrobe space trying to find a particular coat that she favoured over the rest that she owned. She didn't doubt that the theatre itself would be warm enough; however walking to and from a safe apparition spot was a different story and she didn't intend on freezing. Gemma knew she could easily just accio the coat in question but at best she could call for 'long winter coat' and be swiftly inundate and snowed under all the coats she owned. Suddenly she heard Butterscotch jumping down from the bed and running downstairs and knew that someone, most likely Regulus, had to be at the door. Sighing she gave up her search, she grabbed the nearest coat that would go with her dress, and made her way downstairs, which didn't need to be done too carefully since she hadn't yet slipped into her heels just yet. Gemma opened the door, after having told Butterscotch to behave, and smiled happily as she greeted Regulus. "Hi. How are you?" -- Regulus didn’t often go to plays, being a stay-at-home bookworm by nature, and when he did attend the theatre, it was always by himself. He’d certainly never been on a date before - which, at his age, was quite shocking. One of the things he liked so much about Gemma was that she hadn’t been shocked, or at least had kept it out of her expression. She accepted him the way he was, and she’d accepted his idea of a good first date too. There would be no awkward attempts at making conversation over dinner, and after the play, they’d obviously have plenty to talk about. That, in Regulus’s view, could only be a good thing. Still, in spite of having chosen probably the best venue for a first date, he was quite anxious as he walked up to her doorstep, and cringed at the sound of the dog’s nails clicking on the floor behind it. He was thoroughly prepared to be leapt upon, and grateful that Butterscotch was too well-behaved to do so, though he eyed the dog with worry for a moment before he smiled back at Gemma. “Hello,” he said. “I’m quite well, thank you. You look beautiful.” Which was true, and she wasn’t dressed scandalously, and yet he instantly blushed anyway. * Gemma had caught the worried look he'd given Butterscotch and managed to not shake her head in amusement. She did appreciate that he was willing to get used to Butterscotch, since the dog was important to her, but it was still amusing how wary he was around her. "I'm glad to hear that, and thank you," she responded, smiling demurely. Aware that the play wasn't that far away but not wishing to appear an ungracious host prompted her next question. "Did you want to come in for a moment or should we be going now?" -- Regulus did not know how one was supposed to respond to that question. Come in for what? Tea and biscuits? Definitely no time for that. Inside also had the dog. But would it be impolite to refuse and rush her? Yes, probably so. “Sure,” he said, stepping inside and glancing around. It was a nice place, it really was. “I like your house,” he allowed. Jesus Christ. Surely he was capable of proper conversation - she knew he was, for that matter - but as soon as he got anywhere near her these days he came over all tongue-tied. * If asked what she had had in mind having invited Regulus in, and if answering truthfully, Gemma would've answered that she honestly had no idea. It just seemed rather impolite to hold a conversation in the doorway, even if both parties might not have minded that at all. There certainly wasn't even enough time to properly enjoy a tea or, if Regulus actually drank, to pour a glass of wine. Gemma managed to stop herself from giggling for longer than a second or two at his proclamation of liking her house. It wasn't as if she was even trying to make fun of him; however, it was kind of adorable in its own way even if Regulus was beyond the age people usually stopped using the word to describe people. "Sorry, I didn't mean to giggle," she apologised. "Thank you though. I quite liked it the first moment I saw it when I was first house-hunting." -- Regulus managed a sheepish smile at that. “I like hearing you laugh, even if it is at my expense more often than not,” he teased. “I felt the same way about my house. I wasn’t particularly keen on moving, but it was a very quaint and charming home even before I renovated it.” * "Well, if it helps, I wasn't trying to make fun of you," she responded, grateful that he wasn't upset by her giggling at him. Even as just friends she was reluctant to do anything that would've caused him to be upset with her and she suspected if things really did change that that would still be the case. Well, for most things; she wasn't above being somewhat pushy if it came to him feeling more comfortable and less reluctant about doing things he normally didn't, like being outdoors or around Butterscotch. "Having now seen your house I can say I agree with you that it's lovely and charming. Why didn't you want to move though? -- “Oh, I know,” he said. “There’s a difference between mocking someone and being amused by them. It may be a fine line, but it’s there.” Or perhaps he was just far more willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. That too. Regulus shrugged at that. It was a shame so much of his past fell into this awkward things-just-got-real territory. “I was very fond of my ancestral home,” he said, as mildly as he could manage. “And my house elf. I wasn’t at all happy that Sirius got to inherit it, but - I think leaving did me some good. And Kreacher too, in the end.” * "I can assure you it was definitely a case of being amused by you," she clarified. "I might be prone to teasing you but I wouldn't ever actually mock you." "Oh. I can understand why you might be reluctant to leave. I felt the same about my family home, although ours would hardly be considered ancestral," she said. Though she at least had the fortune to still easily visit the house where she grew up since it was within the same village albeit on the outskirts of it. "And at least you've your own space that you can decorate and fill to however you please?" -- Generally Regulus did not like teasing, since both of his siblings were unfortunately prone to it, but it was different with Gemma. A lot of things were different with Gemma, and he was only just beginning to pinpoint the reasons why. “Yes, it is nice to have one’s own space,” he said. “And I like being out in the middle of nowhere, instead of in the middle of London, to be honest. Not that I spent a lot of time outside either then or now, but still.” * "I can't imagine that living in London would be very conducive to peace and quiet, even with the aid of charms," she commented, before smiling at his comment on still not spending a lot of time outside. "You can't always stay cooped up indoors, you know, it's not very healthy." -- “Well, I know, on some level,” Regulus said. “But on the other hand, being swarmed by bees or infected with rabies by escaped raccoons of questionable national origin are not particularly healthy either. I’d rather just take my vitamins.” He grinned at her, and added, “Besides, you know I go to Quidditch games. And I’ll be going to more now that I want to cheer you on.” * Gemma raised an eyebrow at that, because honestly the likelihood of either of those things or anything remotely similar happening were pretty low and in fact were likely to not ever happen at all. "Yes, because the bees and raccoons are just waiting for you the moment your foot is past the threshold of your home," she said drolly. "Yes, but going to Quidditch matches and being outside at your home are two entirely different things. Though I do like and appreciate that you'll come to cheer me on." -- “Well, what on Earth - “ Regulus began, and recollected himself, pulling his pocketwatch out to glance at it. “We ought to be going, I think, we can continue this conversation at the theatre.” Which he did, of course, once they had arrived and found their seats - very good seats, of course, because Regulus never spared any expense when it came to things he wanted to do. “What is a person supposed to do outside at their own home?” he asked. * After Regulus had said they ought to be leaving Gemma went and slipped her heels on, adding about three inches to her height, and gave Butterscotch a goodbye scratch and told her to behave. Though she'd never been to see a play before, Gemma could tell by how the seating was arranged that their seats were definitely good which no doubt was reflected in the cost of the tickets. "That depends on what the person likes doing," she replied. "It's perfectly acceptable to read books outdoors if the weather is fine. Or there's gardening if you enjoy that. And some people just simply like being able to lay outside in the sun because of how warm it is." -- “I think it would be a bit difficult to read books outside,” Regulus said speculatively. “Bright, and windy, and that sort of thing. Or else raining.” He frowned slightly at the idea of gardening. It was a perfectly respectable thing to do, and yet, so dirty. “I don’t really like being warm,” he said, which was perhaps an odd stance to take for someone she’d seen numerous times over the summer, always wearing unseasonal long sleeves and trousers. * "That's why someone invented parasols and umbrellas. Besides I did say when the weather is fine, which I think discludes wind and rained," she pointed out. It seemed a little odd to her though not entirely unusual for someone to not like being warm but then she'd always been active and loved being outside, a differing opinion to that would likely always be a little odd. "Why not? Or is it just a comfort thing?" -- “The weather can sometimes go from being fine to not being fine rapidly,” Regulus said. “This is England, after all.” He considered that. “Well, it’s not as though I like being cold, either,” he said. “Overall, though, warm is worse. I like winter better.” No doubt because his fashion choices were more suitable to being slightly chilly than slightly warm. “What’s your favourite season?” * "That is true," she conceded. It was actually the entire reason as to why she'd been considering having a conservatory built on the side of the house that the kitchen/dining was on. That way she'd be able to enjoy the outdoors no matter the season. "I'm comfortable with both, although I think I prefer the cold. If only because you can warm up if you get too chilled but just as easily cool down if you get too warm," she replied. "As for a favourite season… well, when I was little I liked winter, although that was more for the chance at getting to play in the snow more than anything. I don't know that I have a favourite-favourite, but I quite like Autumn as it's still a little warm sometimes and only just getting chilly." -- “Autumn is good,” Regulus agreed. “I always liked it - going back to school and all that, starting Quidditch. I will say that the one thing I didn’t like about winter was the Quidditch games. It’s not so much fun to play a sport where you have to balance your warming charms against the athletic activity required.” * "Or having to play in the pouring rain," she added. Unfortunately, being witches and wizards, and playing a magical sport, meant that weather was not as much of a hindrance as it would have been to muggles, who more than likely got to go inside if the weather actually got particularly bad. Quidditch players were not so fortunate. "I never could decide whether it was better to try and keep the goggles from fogging up or trying to keep the rain off me." -- “Just dreadful,” Regulus agreed. “I had no choice, I was playing Seeker - the goggles were paramount. I caught quite a chill at one match. But I won, so it was, more or less, worth it.” * Gemma nodded in agreement. Although she'd only ever played as Chaser having your sight unimpeded was just as important, because you really didn't want to get caught out throwing to the wrong player or worse throwing the quaffle to someone on the opposing team. "I should've liked to have seen you play," she commented. Gemma had deliberated as to whether to actually make such a comment since, even though it was the truth, it would only point out the disparity of their ages and she'd rather try and keep the date as awkward-free as possible. -- “Thank you,” Regulus said with a small smile. “I’m very glad I get to see you play. I always did love Quidditch.” His one concession to sports and the great outdoors. He’d always loved magic too much to consider going pro, and when he was around the age to play in pick-up games at parties, he hadn’t been going to any parties. Still, the observer saw most of the game, as they said. Soon enough the play started; Regulus had chosen a typical English murder mystery, and it was quite well-acted and interesting. Afterwards, he asked Gemma shyly, “Did you perhaps want to get dessert and talk about it?” * Gemma smiled being, of course, pleased to hear that he was happy to see her play even if she did think it was only in the spirit of friendship. The before she could make with a reply or broach a new question the play had started. Unsure as to what she'd been expecting to see Gemma had nonetheless actually enjoyed the play; particularly since it hadn't been terribly difficult to follow the plot along. Though the ending had been unexpected and not what she'd originally presumed would happen. "Dessert sounds good to me," she replied with a smile. -- “Do you want to go to Fortescue’s, or would you prefer cake or pie or something?” Regulus asked, anxious to please. He was glad that she seemed to have enjoyed the play, and it would be nice for the evening to continue going swimmingly. * Although Fortescue's certainly had delicious ice cream, albeit some flavour combinations were somewhat questionable, it wasn't exactly private. Not that Gemma expected anything but dessert or conversation to take place. However, having some degree of privacy would be nice, but how to suggest something without rolling into a long-winded explanation as to why she thought so even though she didn't expect anything. There was also the fact that, although she wasn't as strict as some were, she had to watch what she ate unless she wanted to do a few more hours of exercise to work it all off. "Hmm, maybe not Fortescue's. But cake might be nice?" she asked. -- “Cake would be lovely,” Regulus said earnestly, and then had to face the fact that he did not actually know where to find cake at this time of night. There were, no doubt, Muggle restaurants that would serve them, but he was unfamiliar with Muggle areas. Drawing a blank, he finally came up with something and said, almost shyly, “I have some at home, if you’d like.” He knew that typically, inviting someone home after a date would lead to things, but surely Gemma knew him well enough by now not to expect anything of the sort. * Regulus had nothing to fear because Gemma certainly wasn't expecting anything to happen whether they were at his place or her's. At least certainly not on this date or perhaps not for many many more down the road. "That sounds fine, as long as you don't mind?" she answered. -- “Not at all,” he assured her, and offered her his arm. “I’ll Apparate us, then.” He led her to a slightly more remote area behind the theatre where they wouldn’t be observed, and took them straight into his foyer, then led her to the kitchen. “Would you like milk with your cake, or something else?” * "Orange juice, please, if you have any," she replied. Usually she would have milk or, if it was off season, she'd maybe have a glass of wine if it was a particularly good cake. Juice would make for a nice alternative and was at least maybe a touch healthier. Although considering she was going to be eating cake for dessert that last point was rather moot. -- Regulus fetched a couple of glasses and poured the juice, then got the cake out. Obviously he was the sort of person who kept his cakes in the appropriate glass receptacle even though he never had guests to marvel at how nice the cake looked under the dome. “How big a slice would you like?” he asked conscientiously. * "Hmm, maybe about…" she trailed off, gesturing with one hand that about a mid-size piece of cake would do. It would be indulgent enough and she was sure she could stop there and not feel the need to ask for another slice. "Had you seen that play before?" she asked, as Regulus got the cake. -- Regulus cut her a piece of the appropriate size and passed it to her, then cut one for himself. Even though he had a house elf who would do the dishes for him while he slept, he went over to quickly run the knife under the tap before he joined her at the table. “No, I hadn’t,” he said. “It was very good, wasn’t it? It really kept you guessing.” * "It was, I enjoyed it more than I thought I would since I haven't ever seen any plays really," she replied, before cutting a small portion of the cake with her fork and eating it. "I thought I'd almost had it figured out there before the end. But that twist just came in and my theory as to who'd done it was out the window." At any rate, having seen the play and actually enjoyed it she could now say she wouldn't be terribly adversed to seeing more plays in the future. -- “I was quite convinced that it was Cassandra,” Regulus agreed. “I never would have guessed. I do like a good mystery, though I must admit, I find Muggle things a bit confusing most of the time.” Okay, all of the time. But there were so few wizarding plays put on in England that it was almost necessary to head into the Muggle world once in awhile for entertainment purposes. * "Considering your line of work I would've been very surprised if you didn't like a mystery at all," she said with a smile. Gemma ate a little more of the cake and had a sip of the juice before she spoke up again. "I know it's not normally said until the end of a date but thank you for tonight, Regulus," she said quietly. "It's been a very nice evening." -- “Well, there is a bit of a difference between man-made mysteries and the mysteries of the universe, but I like clues and investigations and such either way,” he said with a grin. He blushed at that. “Thank you for accepting the invitation,” he said softly. “I’ve had a wonderful time.” * "Of course. Though I'm sure in some ways there's possibly similar aspects," she added. "Though admittedly your work probably has a greater degree of scientific thought behind it than a murder investigation might have." Gemma smiled. "Well, it probably would've been a little rude to have not accepted it. Though I have a feeling you would've understood if I'd given a reason as to why not, if I had actually had had a reason or managed to actually think of one if I didn't." It was probably just as well she hadn't had any excuse since she was wishing to see wherever this went, and flaking out on something as simple as going to see a play would've been cowardly. -- “One might wish the DMLE’s investigations were a bit more scientific and logical,” Regulus said. It would be nice if they could clear up the bloody Dark Mark thing sometime this year. Regulus nodded. He would have understood, though after all the rigamarole about the dream, he would have been startled and disappointed in a refusal. He started to ask her if she would like to go on another date soon, since the time seemed right, and was interrupted mid-word by Kreacher coming into the room with a small piece of paper clutched in his hand. Kreacher never showed himself when Regulus had people over, even Sirius and Cassi, unless he was asked - it was the height of rudeness in a house elf, and Kreacher was highly traditional. For him to interrupt with a virtual stranger meant something life or death. “What’s wrong?” Regulus asked him. “Kreacher found this while he was cleaning the library,” Kreacher said, and offered the note to Regulus. Regulus took it, and scanned it, and went white, like a Muggle who had seen a ghost. * Gemma nodded in agreement. Although she wasn't aware of the particulars about the investigation she was sure he was thinking of - she knew things would likely be sorted out quicker if it was done as Regulus had said. From the way the Prophet reported on it, and she rarely took much stock in what they thought, the investigation seemed to be taking all sorts of loop-like directions. She was a bit surprised at the sudden appearance of Kreacher in the room; Gemma was aware of his existence but hadn't expected that she'd be likely to seem him if ever. Gemma frowned worriedly when she took note of Regulus' reaction at reading the note he'd been handed. "Regulus? Are you okay?" she asked concernedly. -- “I’m fine,” he said reflexively, even though he was clearly anything but. “Where in the library, exactly?” “It was just lying on a table, Master Regulus,” Kreacher said anxiously. “And you haven’t been to the - have you been back there, since...?” “No, Master Regulus! Why would Kreacher ever do such a thing?” “I don’t know, I don’t...” Regulus was pretty much on the verge of hyperventilating now, and he put the note down on the table and buried his head in his hands for a long moment as if it would help with his sudden lightheadedness. “This is impossible. This can’t exist.” * Although she was following what passed for a conversation between the two she was none the wiser as to what was going on. What she did know though was that whatever it was it had clearly worried Regulus. Gemma got up from her chair quietly, after seeing Regulus bury his head in his hands, and walked over to him and gently placed her hand on his shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting move. It was safer than her go to move whenever she saw a friend in such distress but she had quickly surmised that a hug would not be particularly helpful here. "Regulus…" she trailed off quietly, suddenly unsure of what to say since she didn't know what was wrong. -- Regulus flinched instinctively when she touched him, but it could’ve been worse. He didn’t actually fall out of his chair or scream or anything truly embarrassing, so that was something. “I need to call the Aurors,” he started, and then shook his head, raking his fingers through his hair. Ordinarily he kept it quite well-groomed, but this left it tousled. “I can’t do that, not now. Judging by their recent behaviour, they’ll only arrest me if I remind them that I exist.” He took a deep breath and managed to realise that it really wasn’t fair to her to freak her out with no explanation. He reached out to touch the note, just barely brushing his fingertip against a corner of it. “I wrote this,” he said. “Twenty years ago. But I left it somewhere only the Dark Lord should have been able to access it. And even if he did find it, which I thought he didn’t, and gave it to someone else, they shouldn’t have been able to plant it in my house.” * Gemma wasn't terribly concerned that he had flinched since she'd been expecting some similar reaction since he seemed so absorbed by whatever words that note contained. Though she was getting a little more worried when there was no real forthcoming explanation as to what that was. It might be naive to think so but she was somewhat sure the Aurors wouldn't necessarily arrest him on sight but she could completely understand, with the current investigation, Regulus' reticience in not wanting to contact them. "Oh… that's…" she half-mumbled, her hand still on his shoulder. Well, it was strange but Regulus already knew that and it seemed a little redundant to point it out any further. "Is there… could you maybe try and find out how? I mean, without the Aurors." -- “I don’t know how,” he said. “Anyone who could possibly have had access to this is dead or in prison. And if they’re trying to send me some kind of threat, why wouldn’t it come with a Dark Mark? Kreacher, would you go make sure the house is secure and there’s no Dark Mark hovering above it?” He knew the house was secure, he knew his wards were good, but he still took his wand out and put it on the table, in easy reach if they were suddenly attacked. Once Kreacher had gone, he frowned at the note, reading it again. “Wait,” he said. “This is my handwriting, but...this isn’t exactly the note I wrote. Some of the phrasing is different.” It was twenty years ago, but he had intended it to be the last thing he would ever write in this lifetime. The words were emblazoned on his brain. * Gemma let her hand brush down his shoulder before pulling away and returning to her seat, if she stood there for much longer she'd be tempted to try and comfort him with a hug and she wasn't sure how well received that would go just now. "That seems a bit odd. Is it possible for someone to have copied your handwriting maybe?" she asked. -- “I suppose so, but why?” Regulus asked. “What on Earth would be the point? I didn’t show it to anyone before I left it...where I left it. Anyone who found it afterwards could have just left the real thing instead of making a copy with mistakes in it. Only they couldn’t have, because nobody can get past my wards, and if they could, what would be the point of leaving this instead of just lurking to kill me when I came home? Do they want me to think I’m going mad?” * Gemma wasn't sure why at all anyone would do that except for the reason Regulus had mentioned at the end, and even then it didn't really make much sense - at least to her anyway. Unsure of what his reaction would be, Gemma decided against being cautious and reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly. "I don't know. And if they wanted you to think that… well, they've already failed there, since I've seen the note. So you can't possibly be going mad," she pointed out gently. "Unless of course we're both hallucinating, in which case it doesn't bode well for either of us." It might not be quite the right time for joking around, but at least it might help distract him for a moment. Even though it was perfectly understandable to worry about a note being left in your home that you knew to be as secure as anything could possibly be. -- Regulus tentatively curled his fingers around hers and managed a very wan half-smile. He was, in a way, grateful she happened to be here at the moment, since if he’d been alone when the note had been found, especially if he’d found it himself rather than Kreacher bringing it to him, he probably would have had a proper panic attack. Still, he hated that she was being dragged into this mess, whatever this mess was. “It’s definitely real,” he said. “I mean, it exists. Except it shouldn’t. It can’t. Not here, not now. And I don’t know what to do about it.” * "I know it'll be on your mind anyway but maybe… maybe wait until the morning to try and start figuring it out?" she suggested. Which was a lot better than her original plan of asking if she should maybe go so he'd have the time to try and figure it out. -- “I doubt I’ll get any sleep after this,” Regulus admitted, and sighed, threading his fingers through his hair again. “I’m sorry. This isn’t what anyone wants out of a first date, I know.” He was definitely too much trouble for anyone, much less a woman like Gemma. * "It's alright," she said reassuringly, giving his hand a squeeze again. "Well, maybe not really alright. But it's not your fault, Regulus. You couldn't possibly have had any idea that a note would mysteriously appear in your home. Aside from that part of the evening I thought it had been going well." Up until the note Gemma really had thought things had been going well; the play had been enjoyable, they'd talked and it had all been done without very much awkwardness at all. "I'm not going to be put off by a note mysteriously appearing," she stated. "Or by what it might mean." -- Things had been going extremely well, and it was just Regulus’s bloody luck that the past couldn’t stay in the past for one more night. “It can’t mean anything good,” he said softly. “It just - it’s impossible.” Not something that an Unspeakable said often, but he couldn’t come up with very many reasonable theories on how this could be happening, much less why. It had to be a threat, but who was still out there in a position to threaten him? Why choose such an oblique method? Why copy the note inexactly in the first place? How could they have gotten it into his house? He took another deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, trying to clear his head. It was no use, really. “Thank you,” he said softly. “You’re very kind. Far kinder than I deserve.” * "You're welcome," she said quietly. "Well, you'll always be my friend first, and I'd hardly be a very good friend if I got easily put off by some note or even your past. And I know I don't really know all of what went on but what I do know is you're not that person anymore." It was perhaps a slightly naive thought in some way but it was honestly what she thought. She knew, even if she did one day get the whole story, that the Regulus she knew was a gentleman and a good friend. -- Regulus knew he wasn’t that person anymore. He’d put decades of conscious effort into not being that person. But he was also torn apart, deep down, by the knowledge that he had been the worst kind of person imaginable, and that he hadn’t deserved to live through the war. Everything he had in his life was a miracle. “I know,” he said softly. He sighed and flipped the note over so he wouldn’t have to look at it anymore. “In a certain sense, I died after I wrote that note. I meant to die. I wanted to die. Kreacher made sure that I didn’t, and I got a second chance, and this thing, it just reminds me that when I was eighteen, I gave up.” * Gemma bit down on her lip to try and stop herself from tearing up, because if she didn't she was sure she'd end up crying or at the very least start having tears run down her face. The last thing either of them needed was her getting all weepy. "I'm glad you didn't," she whispered, looking at their hands. -- “Me too,” he said softly, and squeezed her hand. It wasn’t exactly a suicide note, of course. It was a giant fuck you to Voldemort, an I’m-taking-you-with-me of what he had considered, as a teenager, to be epic proportions. He’d been angry as well as depressed and self-loathing, after all. Still, it would have been the last thing he’d done in his life if not for his house elf. He cleared his throat after a moment, unwilling to let go of her hand and uncertain whether it was okay to keep hanging on. “Sorry to make everything so depressing,” he said, striking out vainly for some kind of shore. * There was a bit of a sniffle before she spoke up but there was still a smile on her face none the less. "It's not your fault, and… well, things could've gone worse perhaps. But I'm glad they didn't." It had all sounded a lot better in her head. Gemma just wanted to reassure Regulus that even though things had maybe got depressing it hadn't been a terrible night overall, and she had meant it when she'd said she wasn't put off by any of it. "There's always next time?" she suggested hopefully. "I… if… if you still want to that is." -- Regulus smiled at that, sweet and shy, briefly distracted from the nightmare that was his life. “I do. Want to, that is,” he said. “I was about to ask if you...wanted to go out again when, er...well. I’m glad you want to.” * "Great minds think alike then," she chuckled. "And I do want to, whenever you think might be good will be fine." Gemma was glad that even though this part of the night hadn't gone too well that it hadn't put either of them off wanting to continue seeing how things would go. "Though it will mean having to think of something to do," she mentioned. Part of her wanted to suggest dinner but that was very close to proper actual traditional date territory, and she wasn't sure how that might go down. She didn't think he'd absolutely refuse but things were very very new and…. well, she wasn't sure they were yet headed for actual proper dating. -- Actual, proper dating probably involved a little more physical contact than Regulus was quite comfortable with, that was for sure. Still, if he wasn’t theoretically okay with trying that eventually, someday, then he wouldn’t have agreed to date her in the first place. All things considered, though, best to continue taking it slow. “I’m sure there are plenty of things we could do,” he said. “If there’s ever a Quidditch game on a day when you’re not otherwise engaged, that might be fun - unless it’s too much like work.” * "I don't think it's too much like work at all," she happily responded. She'd caught snippets of matches during the World Cup but it had been quite a while since she actually had gone to match to watch and not play in. And since they were taking things slow it was really kind of perfect in a way since it was something that friends would do as well. "I don't have another match until sometime next month and aside from that I'll only be kept busy with practise during the day... So I'll be happy to go whenever you want to." -- “Brilliant,” Regulus said with a smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes - the note was not far from his mind - but he was grateful she still wanted to do this, and happy that she approved of his idea. He’d worried that she would see it more as scoping out the competition than entertainment, or something. “Why don’t you let me know when there’s a match you want to see, and I’ll get the tickets? I feel as though my schedule is a bit more flexible than yours.” * "I think you're probably right. So I'll let you know as soon as I've decided which I want to go and watch," she replied. Gemma could tell, not that it was particularly hard to notice, that the note had clearly rattled Regulus; which was a shame since the evening had been going so well and hadn't even gotten awkward. Still he hadn't asked her to leave so that he could be alone so that was something at least. Gemma wasn't sure she'd have been able to even if she had been asked - she still would've worried even at her place. Gemma morosely thought, as she finished of her piece of cake, she would definitely need to add a couple of extra workouts during tomorrow morning's run to work off the calories; not that she minded since the cake was delicious and the company was good, it was worth it. "Will you be alright?" she asked concernedly. "Sorry, that's probably a redundant question…" -- Regulus trusted her, that was one reason he hadn’t kicked her out as soon as he’d gotten the note. And, if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t want to be alone right now. Not that he would be - Kreacher was here, after all - but it gave him some measure of comfort to have another human present too. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “I mean, probably. I’ll...get to the bottom of this.” * "Alright, and if anyone can figure it out I'm sure you can," she said giving him a smile. "Just don't be afraid to ask for help - at least from people you know you can trust not to take things the wrong way." Gemma hoped, rather than knowing for sure, that if he were to ask for help that it wouldn't result in what he was worried about people thinking of him. Hopefully people just wouldn't be that small-minded and pig-headed. -- There were precious few of those people in the world, and he couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky that she was one of them. Most people would never have befriended him in the first place, must less kept caring when all this shite came up. “I will,” he said softly. “Thank you. For - being understanding.” * Gemma smiled reassuringly. "You've not given me any reason yet that I shouldn't be, and as I've already said before I know you're not that sort of person you were before you'd written that note. And how could I not be, or try to be, understanding about this when you listened to me and the strange dream I'd had, and you didn't think I was absolutely cuckoo." Admittedly neither had Bethanie when she'd told her friend about the dream when they'd caught up for lunch; however, she hadn't been the one involved in the dream unlike Regulus, who had every right to think she was cuckoo. -- “Well, having a dream that lingers is a lot more normal than what I’m going through at the moment, you have to admit,” he teased. “I know you’re not mad, and - that dream turned out to be quite a good thing.” Obviously this note was not going to be anything similar. It could only herald terrible things, whatever the truth about it turning up was. “But even so, I really do appreciate it. You’ve every right to run off screaming, honestly.” * "I think that's because it's a little easier to come up with a reason for where a dream might've come from than a note mysteriously appearing," she responded. "Though I'm glad you don't think I'm mad." A memory came to mind at the words he used, not that the situations were at all similar but she'd been reminded of it nonetheless. "Oh, you mean like you might wanted to have done at Midsummer Madness Party? Well, minus the screaming," she asked with a teasing smile. -- Regulus blushed at the reminder. That had been awkward, and it had been quite obvious he wasn’t comfortable being around all those scantily-clad women, least of all Gemma. Still, they’d had a really nice time. When he thought of it that way, it was surprising that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind until she mentioned the dream that he might fancy her. He wouldn’t have put up with those circumstances for just anyone, let alone enjoyed himself. “Er, yes,” he said. “Though I like to think of myself as being a bit more gracious under pressure than that.” * "Well, you did eventually manage to at least look me in the eyes when we were talking," she teased. Admittedly it had been partly her fault that he had felt awkward at the time since she had completely forgotten to mention the fact the evening not only had a theme but a dress code albeit not a strict one. Still she had forgotten to warn Regulus; however despite the awkwardness he'd obviously felt it had been a nice time. -- “Your eyes were by far the easiest part of you to look at,” he said, and then winced when he actually heard the words. “I’m so sorry, that was a terribly rude thing to say. You looked great! Probably! I’m sure you did because you always do! It just seemed so impolite to stare!” * Gemma laughed lightly at both Regulus' reaction and then his apology. Not that it was done mockingly she just thought it was adorable the way he tried to explain why he had had trouble looking at her directly. She hadn't been at all offended when he had mentioned that her eyes had been the easiest part to look at. "It's okay, I honestly didn't think it was rude at all," she said reassuringly. "And thank you. I know it must've been rather awkward for you, and considering how I was dressed you did remarkably well." -- Most men would have been delighted with how she’d been dressed. Would, in fact, have thought her sheer cover-up was unnecessary. Regulus knew how odd he was, and he would never cease to be amazed that she didn’t seem to think so. “Good,” he said. “I mean, it was...awkward...but I like spending time with you even if things are occasionally a bit uncomfortable.” * It was maybe a little odd but she had never really thought so, except perhaps once or twice and only very briefly and that was before she had really gotten to know him better. In a way it was actually kind of refreshing that he wasn't like most men in that respect. "I'm glad that you're able to spend time with me even when you obviously feel uncomfortable about the situation of meeting," she said. "And that you've never made any sort of excuse to get out of it. Though I think I would've understood if you'd felt the need to do so at the midsummer party." -- “I’m not sure you would have,” he said, flashing her a smile. “That was before we ever talked about, er...you know. Things. I don’t think you would’ve known what the problem was. Then again, maybe I’m a bit transparent.” She’d picked up almost immediately on how nervous he got about being touched, after all, and this was more of the same. * "Maybe, maybe not. Still I'm glad you decided that you didn't need to suddenly be somewhere else," she said, returning a smile of her own. "Maybe not transparent persay but… well, you do blush rather easily I've noticed." That night it had been particularly easy to notice, not that he'd done much blushing, but it would've been hard not to notice the way he had avoided looking at her at first or the fact he had seemed particularly interested in the bottles on the back wall of the bar. -- “Yes, I do seem to,” he agreed with a self-deprecating grin. “Especially around you, for some reason. And yet I never run away. Believe it or not, I can be quite good at making excuses.” But in spite of everything, he never wanted to with Gemma, even when Butterscotch was with her or she was barely clothed. Kreacher reappeared in the doorway, and Regulus glanced over at him. Obviously there was no security emergency, but the house elf was clearly eager to discuss the issue with him, and just as clearly, from the way he barely contained a scowl, not willing to do so in front of some strange woman. “Er,” Regulus said. “Speaking of excuses, this isn’t one, I promise, but - well, it’s late, and I hate to keep you.” * "Hmm, I wonder why that is?" she asked with a slightly teasing smirk. Not that she really knew what the answer was, and she maybe had some idea that it possibly wasn't the best thing to tease Regulus about. Gemma's eyes followed Regulus' gaze and wondered what it was about her that caused the look on the house elf's face; although it wasn't particularly worrying, just rather curious. "Regulus, it's fine, really. This is your house after all," she said. "Besides I'm sure you'd like to get some sort of start on investigating." -- “Yes, though I’d like to keep talking to you too,” he promised. “I really would, but it’s hard to concentrate, and I know you’re busy. It seems rude to keep you without giving you my full focus. I’m sorry.” * "So would I, but I also know that the appearance of that note has you worried, and even though I'd like to stay and make sure you're okay, I understand that I probably would be more of a distraction whilst you tried to work on it," she explained, smoothing her dress down as she stood from her chair. Gemma gave him a reassuring smile to show she wasn't hurt or anything by sort of being asked to leave, even if it wasn't quite done as a question. -- “I’m okay,” Regulus promised. It wasn’t exactly true, but it was close enough. He wasn’t going to have a mental breakdown about it. There must be a rational explanation. Perhaps his enemies had sent one of their house elves with it - house elves could bypass most wards. He’d figure it out, he’d put an end to it. Or he’d die, horribly. That was possible too, but ever since the Dark Mark incident he’d been pretty sure that was coming. Only...he didn’t want it to. He hadn’t ever felt suicidal since he’d been eighteen, and the future Gemma had seen for them, even if Regulus hadn’t seen it...it seemed beautiful, in a way. He still couldn’t picture himself in that situation, but he liked her. He’d liked tonight. It wasn’t fair that, just when he was beginning to think this sort of relationship could be worth exploring, his life was thrown into chaos by the past he’d tried so hard to put behind him. “I’ll see you soon,” he told her. “I’m really looking forward to that Quidditch game.” * "Me too," she said happily. Gemma didn't quite believe him about being okay but since he didn't actually appear to be panicking she was willing to believe it for now. At least the note hadn't thrown too much of a spanner into the works. "I'll see you again soon, and thank you for a lovely evening," she said, crossing the short distance between them and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Goodnight, Regulus, and do try to get some sleep, alright?" -- It was not the first time she’d kissed him like that, but he still blushed. “Good night,” he said softly. “I’ll do my best.” It was unlikely he’d be able to sleep soundly under the circumstances, though. * Gemma gave him one last smile before grabbing her coat, giving him a wave, and left the house. She walked a little to outside of the property's wards and apparated home where after greeting Butterscotch and changing into pyjamas she happily flopped into bed. It really had been a good night all things considered. |