White snowflakes danced around the large yards the school held. The first indications of the arrival of winter marked a clear difference between the moment at hand, and the months prior. Students made their way across the snow-covered path to Hogsmeade in hopes the town would be able to offer some comfort to their frozen bodies. The trail of a myriad of steps could be seen in direction towards Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop; an optimal choice if seeking a warm drink.

Though Reginald did not fancy public spaces—especially not the ones visited by all sorts of students—he found himself sitting by the quietest corner of the tea shop, a warm cup of black coffee in his hands. A sweet girl sitting right in front of him, drinking an even sweeter cup of tea. If it were anyone else, such overutilisation of sugar would bother him; yet there was something about you that eased his otherwise very irritable personality.

The small smile you had given him earlier as you watched him yet again complain about how snowflakes were getting caught in his inky hair, had been enough to warm his chest up completely. Never would he stop being amazed of your ability to bring him true happiness in a way he thought unexistent. The thrills of the loved, he guessed.

“I have not one clue of how exactly you are able to bear so much sugar in your system, my darling.” He deadpanned, though not entirely a critic, but rather an attempt at catching your attention. “If you suffer a sugar attack, know I will not help you.” And that, of course, had been one large lie.