tampered | {complete}

Claire, sitting on the building's front steps in a jacket she pulled from the closet (her father's) and a beanie crammed down over her hair, hops up when Regulus just appears, as he is wont to do. The first thing she notices is that he is, obviously, carrying Dinosaur.

The second is that he is, understatedly, looking a little miffed.

"You should probably give him to me before you accidentally crush him," she says, hopping down off the last step and reaching out with hands completely covered by sleeves far too long for her.

He nods a bit, lips pressing into a thin line for a moment before he simply hands the poor thing over - shoving his hands into his pockets right after. "Sorry, Dinosaur."

It's muttered, but it's there. Also, it may be a thing of note to say that Dinosaur still likes Claire.

Claire scratches what she thinks is Dinosaur's head - it's hard to tell, being little more than a ball of fluff - and easily slips him into one large pocket where she feels him bunker down against her leg.

She crosses her arms and gives Regulus an imploring look. "Are things bad?"

"He's been like this since Lupin arrived again as an adult, so I can only assume it's because of him."

He tries to smile, but it comes out a little flat. "I still don't know everything. Severus isn't in the flat any more, though."

"I kind of got that impression," she says, coming to stand a little bit closer. Claire knows she should get upstairs again soon but she's right out front. She's safe. "Do you know where he went?"

What, she's allowed to worry.

His fingers curl and uncurl again, inside his pocket. This is probably the longest he's been outside in a while. "The lab, likely. S'where he always goes."

Snape will be fine, promise.

Claire, on the contrary, walks or rides on Zach's handlebars to and from work everyday. She likes being outside. If anything, she's used to it. "That sounds comforting," she replies, walking over to sit down on the second to last step.

After some time, she pats the spot next to her, though for once she's unsure as to whether or not he'll actually sit down beside her.

Regulus just Apparates. Paranoia at its best. He'll never admit it, though. "It is, in its own right. Sort of."

At this he stares a moment - but then some of the tension just seems to run out of him and he moves over, sitting gingerly next to her - hands out of his pockets.

In her pocket, Dinosaur curls up as much as a little ball of puff can and sticks as close to her as possible. She's the only one with any body heat left anyway, but she never notices things like that, and she takes Regulus's hand, which doesn't feel cold at all to her.

Claire shrugs before she replies. "It just means he's upset or pissed off, which isn't comforting but if that's how he blows off steam, fine by me. Dinosaur is still alive because of it."

Regulus notices. The cold bothers him, but he doesn't say anything because Claire never says anything and it's not something he wants to talk about. He just curls his fingers a little, threading them with hers. It's practiced, easy enough.

His lips do manage to curve up a little bit, though. "And I manage to keep what little shreds of ego I have left."

"What, by carrying a pink ball of fuzz a few blocks over to give to your blonde cheerleader friend?" She's baiting him, and it's a little bit more than obvious, but Claire thinks that one of the two of them has to smile or laugh at some point before he leaves, and she's more than capable of making it happen.

"Oh, yeah," she goes on, squeezes his hand a bit, "some ego."

"Now you're just being cruel," but he's warming up a bit at least - he squeezes her hand in return, thumb curving over the back of it once. "A pink ball of fuzz that hasn't been murdered."

The curve is still there, just a little bigger.

She bumps her shoulder into his, because this is what she's good at: she has pep, she has cheer. As stupid as it sounds, and as much as she never thought it would come in useful in any other situation outside of cheering itself, she's kind of thankful for it right now. "Fortunately my dad's used to small fuzzy things. They might even get along."

"Good. I hope he likes finding his socks in strange places, but I meant it when I said I think he'll be all right once he's not terrified."

He's grinning a little. "Personally, I thought the sock thing was just Dinosaur being affectionate."

"I tried to tell him that Dinosaur isn't so bad in comparison to Mr. Muggles but he wasn't buying it. I even threw in the bit about him humping peoples' legs, but I think I just disturbed him." There's a face she makes to go along with that. Now that she says it aloud it doesn't sound as convincing or beneficial to establishing a point as she'd originally thought.

You know that laugh you wanted to pull out of him, Claire? Well, you got it. It's quiet and a little off, but it's there nonetheless. "I don't think the humping legs thing would help, no."

"It totally makes my dog worse than Dinosaur. Knocking over tea and pulling socks around is nothing compared to housebreaking, okay." She's serious. Claire was there when Mr. Muggles was still learning. She was a lot younger, but she can remember that many a spot on her bedroom floor suffered at the hands of... well.

Laughter is encouraging, however, and she gets confidence from that.

"I had a cat, once. He was awful with the whole housebreaking bit for a while." His head is sort of tilting to the side toward hers - anyone giving them a second glance would likely judge it a wholly insular conversation and pass by. He can't mind it in the least.

"I'm glad Dinosaur only terrorizes tea and socks."

"We never had cats," she says, almost absentmindedly, absorbing herself into memories of her home in Odessa, the one that burned down, all their pictures, their insubstantial things. Her bears. She resolutely doesn't feel sad. "Mom is way too crazy about breeding show dogs to ever think about getting a cat. I don't remember ever having one, at least."

Claire thinks she'd rather have dogs anyway, though not small dogs like Mr. Muggles, despite the fact that she loves him. She just thinks, putting her head on Regulus's shoulder, that she likes big dogs better. "He needs to learn to stop it. Severus doesn't need anything stressing him out even more."

He thinks a moment, about the cat he wished he still had. He'd gotten 'let out' once, an 'accident.' Sirius had said the poor thing had probably gotten eaten - the cruelty of children, perhaps. Regulus had never really cared for pets, after that. "I like them, they're rather subdued."

Dogs are interesting as well, though. He lets his head dip a bit more - resting atop hers a moment before his lips press somewhere in her hair, easily. "I'm hoping a calm down time will help, then some extra training. It can't be that hard."

Maybe one day she'll get Regulus a cat. Maybe. For something like Christmas, for a time when she's sure Certain People won't accidentally-on purpose end up stepping on their tails, for a time when she's sure Regulus would actually appreciate something like that rather than just accept it out of a need to and not know what to do with it after. Sometimes she feels a little bit guilty about Dinosaur's poor treatment; after all, she was the one to insist on seeing something like that in the first place.

She hopes the owl isn't suffering similar treatment.

Claire settles closer at the touch to her hair, burrowing down in her father's jacket - that's not strange at all - and leaning. There's something about leaning: it's all personal space and stepping into someone else's bubble and you can't do it without permission. But Claire is all awkward sixteen-year-old and is pretty sure that a kiss to her hair is permission enough. On top of this, her mind is rambling, and this is usually a decent indication of the state of things.

"It'll probably help that he's going to be somewhere away from the threat of teacups, too," she finally says, after what feels like a long, long time.

He would likely appreciate it even now - be touched by the gesture if a little confused (as he always is, when people are nice to him) - but all the same, it's probably better to wait until Severus isn't fuming. In a part of his mind, he knows Dinosaur's treatment is a little bit all of their faults. Which is why he's handing him off to someone who can keep him from being terrorized. Or terrorizing.

For the record, Noah is wholly inoffensive and thus lives a peaceful, if sheltered, life.

Eventually an arm sort of just curls around her to hold her close, the leaning helping in that decision - because it's also stepping into someone else's bubble. For some stretches, his mind is curiously blank. However, he can dip into rambling minds like the best of them.

"Yes. It'll be better at least, that Severus won't have to deal with him or bother trapping him under the teacups."

"You'll have a lot more clean teacups, in that case." And Claire knows that this is something that's fundamentally important, because the British folks like their tea and it seems like some sort of travesty to have a few cups dirtied because of one rogue pink puff.

For the moment, she just chooses not to move, almost holds her breath. It's probably not the best idea for Regulus to be outside, in the open, like this. Considering the events of the previous week, she's probably being a little bit selfish, keeping him here, and she knows that she should go back upstairs where she's probably going to have to explain things and that's one conversation she's not ready to approach yet, because she doesn't know how to begin it.

So instead of getting up and going inside like a dutiful daughter and well-rounded good girl, Claire stays where she is and leans in close until their knees are touching and Dinosaur is just barely not getting squished. Having nothing to say, she searches for the only thing that she can come up with, which is: "Fall is weird."

"Probably a few less broken ones, as well." Though originally that was his fault, Snape had done his own share (admittedly, Severus' broken things were fixed with a bit more skill than his were. A bit. He couldn't cope, really.).

Part of his mind tells him that he should head back, make her go back inside where it's safe because his paranoia really has reached new peaks, here. However, the rest has vetoed it because sitting here allows him to forget. His hand shifts a little, but it's only to press their palms together less awkwardly.

"I like fall," he's amiable enough now - a pleasant change from his earlier mood, to be sure - "though to be honest, I prefer winter. There's something about snow." Though a part of him does dread what it will do to his body temperature.

Claire takes a moment to let go of his hand and scoot away, just to fish Dinosaur out of her pocket and tuck him into the other one. The jacket is heavy enough that it's still warm for the little guy even if he's not between them. After a minute, she looks up at Regulus as if to say, 'I got this,' and then bunkers back down again, takes his hand closer this time, with her legs drawn up against the October chill. It was never like this in Texas, and she has a feeling that winter here will be different, too, in a lot of ways.

"We don't exactly get a lot of snow in Texas," she points out, watching a few people walk by the stoop with a careful eye. "The snow we had, what, in July? That was the most I've seen in a long time. It was fun. If we get a lot in the winter, we should go sledding."

Regulus just watches this - amused, if nothing else. Squashing Dinosaur would be bad, so now he can hold his own on the outside pocket. He turns inward as she moves closer again; head tilted forward and hand grasping hers close. Though he's used to snow, he knows for a fact that this winter will be nothing like any he's ever had before.

"We got a lot of it. Rain too, but the snow is the most important bit." He nods, matter of fact. "We should."

"And build snowmen," she says, yawning without meaning to, shutting her eyes and bringing her free arm across her chest, to wrap around his bicep while she leans. Leaning is very important, you see. "And do a bunch of other retarded things that retarded kids do in the snow."

She's not just talking to talk or anything. "I thought all it did was rain in England anyway."

"Snowball fights. I even swear not to use magic." Because for once, it would be cheating. And he likes leaning - leaning he can handle and like because he's leaning a little too, but is mostly just being a support to lean on.

"You know, we have sunny days too." And a part of him almost continued with an 'I'd like to show you someday,' but his brain shut that thought down and instead he just smiles a little.

No, it isn't worth getting upset.

There are sunny days here, too.

Claire pinches him a bit for that, even if it's the sort of thing that she'd reprimand him for, if he did it. She already insists that magic itself is enough of a cheat - and is still planning on making him wash dishes by hand, for the record - but what she doesn't say is that she sees it as a cheat that she appreciates and likes. It's something that's important and vital to who Regulus is, and that's important and vital to her.

"Lies. All lies," she says, lifting her head to look up at him. Claire tries hard not to smile, but it's an instantaneous reaction: she can't help it, she can't stop it, she doesn't even want to. "The only thing you have in England is rain, tea, a queen, and bad teeth. And apparently magic."

She lays it on a little thick on purpose. There's enough jokes to be made about Texas, anyway.

"Hey!" He grabs the offending hand in retaliation, grinning. "No fair, I just agreed to make it an even playing field and you pinch me?" Sometimes, Regulus wonders how he got to the place he is today - before, he'd probably have hexed anyone that even tried.

He likes it better, now.

"That's ridiculous. I don't have bad teeth." But he's trying not to laugh and it's only halfway working - he shakes his head. "Wizards don't hold much stock by the queen, either - we've our own minister." Pause. "We do too have sunshine. On occasion. There are festivals to celebrate when the sun comes out once every ten years."

Regulus is sheltered. He doesn't know any jokes about Texas. He's pretty good at making fun of England while pretending to be serious, though.

Really, Regulus, grabbing hands? She's pretty sure they've been over this and it never ends good for him. "I'm sorry, but it's an involuntary reaction!" Claire tries twisting away, laughing, but she's not very good at accomplishing it remotely. It might have something to do with the fact that she's not even trying.

For a moment, she has something to say to his comment about not having bad teeth - since he doesn't at all - but what he says about festivals makes her bust up. "No wonder you're so pale," she says, moving to pinch him again, even though she knows that it'll likely get foiled.

Which is the idea.

He thinks it ended pretty well, actually. "To what, me talking?" Of course twisting away is futile - and he's grinning even now, because he knows she isn't trying. "Really."

He laughs a little - grabbing her other hand as well. You knew this was happening, Claire. "That and the dungeons, mostly." He presses their foreheads together, though - idle in the action even as he smiles.

"Somehow, this seems familiar."

"Yes," she replies, drawing out the 's' in a very matter-of-fact way. "It's not my fault." And it's really not.

Her stomach does a little backflip and she grins, still trying to pull her hands away. She's never felt so idiotic, thinks she needs to grow up, but this is all involuntary, too. "What do you mean familiar?"

It never is. He just smiles. "Ah."

"I mean that it seems we've done just this not so long ago." He's still smiling - all anger forgotten - though, to make the parallel even more complete, his lips ghost over the side of her mouth once.

One day it will be. Claire knows this. One day something is going to be utterly her fault, she just knows it. But she chooses not to dwell on it, as she's too busy with this, right now, and busy trying to make sure that her face isn't too hot or red. Maybe someday soon she won't have that reaction every time he kisses her or she kisses him, because she's going to do that properly right now, thank you, but today isn't that day.

"Oh. Right." Because that's all she can say.

That's all right, because one day something is going to be utterly his fault, too. Because no one is perfect. And when those times come, they'll have to work through it. As for now, he's content stealing some warmth from her. He's still a little awkward and shy - somehow his cheeks redden every so often despite a lack of pulse.

"Mm." He's not got much interesting to contribute, so he simply indicates that he's heard her.

Claire cocks a smile and just rests there for a minute before rolling her eyes and saying, "I should probably go inside."

He nods a little - standing slowly and still holding onto her hands to ~~tug~~ help her up. "To tell the truth, we probably shouldn't have been out here as long as we were..." He doesn't sound too convinced, however.

"Either way, try not to let Dinosaur terrorize too much."

Regulus, her arms are attached, thanks. "It's not like it's that cold," she replies, getting to her feet and giving his hands a squeeze before letting go and digging them into her pockets. Dinosaur immediately cuddles up to her fingers, which is cute and weird at the same time.

"We have a dog that humps peoples' legs, Regulus," she says. "I think we'll be okay."

"Mm, I don't really notice the cold too much anyway..."

He grins. "Well then, don't let Muggles terrorize Dinosaur." His sense of humor is showing again.

Sort of.

That's not morbid or anything.

But she smiles irregardless and pauses on the stairs to turn back and grin at him. "I'll be on Dino defense mode. Promise. Give Severus the vocal equivalent of a hug for me?"

Well, he didn't mean it like that. It's colder in England, you know.

"Perfect. And I will." A pause, and he just smiles. "I'll see you at work tomorrow, Claire."

Because it's always raining.

"See you tomorrow." And she turns, taking the steps two at a time, going back inside.

Something like that.

And so soon as she's through the door, he's gone with a pop.

{complete}

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