Valentine’s Day. A day meant for love. Instead, you stood alone, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

You had been dumped. On Valentine’s Day.

His words still echoed in your mind—quiet, simple, and cruel: "This isn’t working anymore." No grand fight, no betrayal—just cold finality.

And of course, Regulus had witnessed the entire thing.

He had been lounging in one of the armchairs, a book lazily draped over his lap, when your now-ex delivered the final blow. You hadn't wanted an audience, especially not him. Regulus—sharp-tongued, cold-eyed, utterly insufferable—was the last person you wanted to see in your lowest moment.

"Pathetic," his voice drawled. "Breaking up with someone on Valentine's Day? That’s low, even for him."

You turned to face him. "Oh, great. Exactly what I needed. Your opinion."

He smirked. "It’s not an opinion. Just an observation." He tilted his head. "Though, if you’re asking for one, I’d say you’re better off."

You scoffed. "I wasn’t asking."

"Figures." He exhaled, closing his book with a soft thud. "Still. As much as I enjoy watching you sulk, I’d rather not spend the entire evening surrounded by your misery."

"Then leave," you snapped.

He ignored you completely. "Get your coat."

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

He rolled his eyes, as if you were the one being difficult. "Get your coat. You’re spending Valentine’s with me."

For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, searching his face for some kind of joke, some ulterior motive. But Regulus didn’t joke.

"You have got to be joking—"

"Do I ever joke?" He raised a single brow. "Exactly. Now hurry up before I change my mind."

You should say no. You and Regulus had never been anything but fire and ice, constantly clashing, constantly at odds.

But the thought of sitting alone in the common room, drowning in heartbreak while the rest of the world celebrated love, was unbearable.

So, against every ounce of logic, you grabbed your coat.

Regulus had just volunteered to spend Valentine’s Day with his enemy - you.