Cinnamon Apple Tarts

Lucretia shook her head.

"It's better than Madam Pomfrey's potion. It won't leave her so groggy that she can't eat, but the duration is still a problem. Barely four hours have passed, and the headache has started again. It even seems worse."

Little Barty frowned in thought. "It looks like the formula needs further adjustment. Temperature control for the thorn honey is probably the key. I found some relevant references in the library yesterday."

Lucretia asked for confirmation, "Are we still continuing on Thursday? I've been thinking that amber resin might help stabilize the potion's effects. It can preserve magical properties."

Little Barty nodded. "I've already spoken to Snape and reserved the Potions Classroom. He's been quite interested in this formula lately, especially the method for processing thorn honey."

Regulus looked at the two of them curiously. "Still that headache potion? Last time, you said morning dew improved its stability, but the duration wasn't enough?"

Lucretia nodded. "Mm. And the taste problem hasn't been completely solved either. I tried adding licorice root extract before Sophia drank it. It was a little better, but..."

Little Barty said concisely, his brow faintly furrowed, "So the taste is still a challenge. We need to balance efficacy and palatability."

Regulus interjected with a smile, "You described it more vividly last time, Barty. Like someone had boiled stinky socks and rotten sage together for three days. I have no idea how Snape managed to put his nose over the cauldron without changing expression. If I remember correctly?"

Little Barty shot him a glare, the tips of his ears beginning to redden.

When he turned to Lucretia, his tone immediately softened.

"The potion's efficacy is the primary consideration. The smell comes second. I looked it up in Advanced Potion-Making Materials—thorn honey from Devon is the most potent and can provide more stable magical properties. Snape also mentioned that if we cut it with a silver knife at a specific angle, it might reduce that strange smell."

Regulus commented, then patted Little Barty's Ancient Runes textbook resting on the windowsill. "Sounds like your research is progressing well. Pity we still have Professor Pratt's group assignment to finish tomorrow."

Lucretia looked curiously at the book. "The Ancient Runes you have to translate tomorrow? It looks complicated."

Regulus added, "He said we could form our own groups, so we're planning to preview the material in the library tonight. We might be busy quite late."

Little Barty opened his mouth, then closed it again, his fingers tapping against the book.

The motion continued for several seconds.

Lucretia tilted her head, her gaze lingering on his face. "What is it, Barty?"

Little Barty closed the book, glanced at Lucretia, then looked away again.

He cleared his throat, making his tone sound casual. "Are you coming tonight? Some of the plant symbols in Ancient Runes might be useful to you... and we may need your help interpreting a few Ancient recipes related to herbs."

Regulus lowered his head, his quill drawing meaningless circles over the parchment, leaving marks of varying shades of ink.

He gave a light cough, his voice slightly tense as he tried not to laugh aloud.

Lucretia's gaze moved between Little Barty's nervous expression and Regulus's barely suppressed laughter.

The corner of her mouth curled up. "I can bring some snacks. How about cinnamon apple tarts? With a little caramel? I saw a new ratio in the cookbook Headmaster Dumbledore gave me last time, and I've been wanting to try it."

Little Barty's voice sounded casual, though he spoke slightly faster than usual. "I knew you'd say that. Seven o'clock, West Wing Library, by the window. Don't be late."

Lucretia said with a smile, "Then it's settled. But I need to go to class now. I can't be late for Defense Against the Dark Arts Class."

Little Barty pointed toward the end of the corridor, though the direction was obvious enough that it needed no pointing out. "The classroom's that way. Be careful. Sheffield might be talking about practical combat theory today."

Lucretia nodded. After taking a few steps, she turned back. "Oh, and the cinnamon apple tarts will be the kind you like. I'll try not to make the caramel too sweet."

As she said this, her gaze rested on Regulus, and the two exchanged a knowing smile.

Little Barty's eyes followed her retreating figure.

Lucretia's steps were light and brisk, her long hair swaying gently behind her.

Along the way, she stopped to greet a passing Ravenclaw girl, her smile soft.

Then she continued onward, her schoolbag bouncing lightly on her shoulder.

At the corner of the corridor, Lucretia turned and waved at them.

Little Barty instinctively raised his hand in response, almost as if by reflex.

Only after she disappeared around the corner did he finally look away.

Regulus had watched him the entire time.

By the time Little Barty turned back, Regulus had already prepared that teasing smile.

"So..."

He drew out the word, mischief filling his eyes.

"How many times did you rehearse that invitation in your head before saying it, or did it just come out naturally?"

Little Barty's hand clenched abruptly. The pale red at the tips of his ears instantly deepened, the flush spreading across his cheeks.

His voice was tense. "Shut up, Reg. We still have a pile of Ancient Runes to preview."

Regulus spoke thoughtfully, tapping a finger against his chin as though trying earnestly to remember. "Ah, cinnamon apple tarts made by my sister herself. How many did you eat when they were sent by owl last time? Three?"

Little Barty stared at the page. "...Four."

Regulus burst into completely unconcealed laughter.

Little Barty froze, realizing he had fallen into the trap again.

He raised his head irritably to look at his friend, frustration written all over his face. "Can you focus? Professor Pratt's assignment is no joke."

Regulus raised one eyebrow, his smile deepening like that of a smug cat.

"Focus? Who was it that came up with the excuse about plant symbols in Ancient Runes and Ancient recipes related to herbs? Tomorrow's translation assignment has absolutely nothing to do with herbal formulas, Barty. We're supposed to study the application of numerical symbols in Ancient Runes to the selection of cauldron materials."

By now, even Little Barty's neck had turned red, and his voice grew quieter and quieter. "I was just... using an example she could understand..."

Regulus nodded understandingly, though the amusement in his eyes did not diminish in the slightest. "I understand. Just like how my brother has lately been appearing in the library's herbology section for no reason at all."

At those words, Little Barty's entire expression changed.

The shyness vanished, replaced by an unfriendly look in his eyes.

His voice carried obvious disdain, every syllable pronounced clearly. "Black? What, does he really think he's some kind of herbology expert now?"

Regulus shrugged, a thoughtful smile hanging at the corner of his mouth.

"Who knows? Sirius and I don't exactly interact much in private. But, Barty, I have to say, the two of you really are rather alike sometimes. One is studying thorn honey from Devon at the beginning of the herbology section, while the other is studying some ancient magical herbal treatment plan at the end..."

He paused meaningfully.

"Both pretending it's purely academic interest, though their targets are surprisingly consistent."

Little Barty looked as though someone had forcibly made him drink an entire bottle of wormwood tincture. "What are you implying, Reg?"

Regulus blinked innocently. "Nothing. I just think it's quite... thought-provoking that both of you have suddenly developed such extraordinary enthusiasm for Herbology."

At that moment, the bell rang, its deep chimes echoing through the corridor again and again.

Feeling as though he had been granted a reprieve, Little Barty immediately grabbed his books so hastily that several pages scattered loose.

"We're going to be late."

As he spoke, he strode ahead, his pace far quicker than usual.

Regulus packed up unhurriedly and deliberately sighed. "What a pity. I still have plenty of observations to share."

Without looking back, Little Barty strode forward, his voice filled with embarrassed anger. "Say one more word, Reg. I swear I'll turn all your school robes into dresses by tomorrow morning. I'm sure those ladies would be delighted to enjoy the sight."

Regulus bent to pick up the fallen pages and followed after him, grinning smugly.

Opportunities to tease both Little Barty and Sirius at the same time did not come often.