The Missing Day

[regulus_a_b]

Regulus sat outside on the steps leading up to the castle, the wind whipping at his robes with an almost wave-like regularity. In his hands rested a small text upon the mystic powers of the transition from February to March, and the possibilities explored for magnified spell effects during a particular two-hour period. It was well written, and thus, complete bunk.

The lower steps shined with layered frost, carefully broken by the occasional dirty print where some castle occupant had stepped down, away from the structure. Black sighed without disturbing his distended clothing and slipped the book into an outer pocket.