The Owl That He Had Sent To Alecto Earlier In The Day Had Returned Without A Reply, But Regulus Had Taken

He hadn't set out with the intention of trying to find Pandora that evening, after all he had picked the woodlands to apparate to from random chance. He had a list of preferred haunts, and the chances of her being there at the same time without them discussing it beforehand were slim. Still, he should've anticipated it the moment he realised there was a human in the forest. There weren't many wizards who would roam about alone at night in dark woods these days.

Stepping closer towards Dora, Fenrir slipped his wand back into his pocket and smirked in her direction. "Maybe you should be afraid of the creatures...I hear some of them are quite wild," he crooned, coming to a stop by the nearest tree to Dora. Leaning against it casually, Fen narrowed his eyes briefly at her question before shaking his head. "Nance has him tonight. I was just coming for a walk, and here you are. How's your magic coming along?"

Pandora had no rhythm or reason for how she conducted herself. Besides her routine shifts at Cobb and Webb's, the witch marched to the beat of her own drum. The care for her safety usually her last thought, or in most cases, no thought in general. When an idea popped in her head, she fixated until it was sorted, usually a success or a disaster, most times the latter. Tampering with spells and magic had its cost and she cared not for what it, her aim to manipulate to her will.

That is what brought the witch to the woods, in a small clearing by a pond, illuminated lights flickering around to aid in seeing her parchment. Ever since Bellatrix came into the shop and how close her spell came to doing what it was supposed to, she fixated on pushing the strength of her magic to complete the spell. The effort placed in twisting the threads of magic, exhausting herself, that she did not sense another close, forgetting to set up her wards, that Fenrir startled her.

The sudden arrival of Fenrir illicit a small squeak, turning to face him with a huff and her arms bridging over her chest. "I'm not afraid of the creatures that prowl in the woods. Most are merely misunderstood and leave me alone." A beat. "Shouldn't you be at home with Magnus?"

The streets of Hogsmeade would always make Cassandra feel warm and nostalgic, no matter how many years passed since she had left Hogwarts. She'd spent a small fortune in Honeydukes before heading into the Three Broomsticks where she'd settled herself in a corner near the fire with a butterbeer. Her nose was buried into a book detailing the latest in runic magic when she spotted someone approaching her from the corner of her eye. "I'm not working at the moment. If you need healing, could you speak to someone else please?" she asked without looking up.

Alecto's shuffling betrayed her discomfort, regardless of the lack of expression on her face. Fenrir was no fan of the woman in front of him, but he wasn't entirely heartless and he didn't want to see a heavily pregnant woman sit in discomfort in his home. "The couch is softer if you want to swap. Or I have some duck feather cushions that I can offer you," he said, offering them as a truce between them. "You won't find it to be necessary, Carrow. Yes, we can be done with that topic."

Fenrir tried not to get involved with the Scottish werewolves where possible. Managing his own pack was enough work without being dragged into the internal politics of another pack - never mind that when two werewolf alphas in the same room usually led to vicious fights. But to hear that Angus had wandering hands...Fenrir wanted to apparate to Scotland and rip those hands off. It was unthinkable to him that the leader of a pack should behave in such a way. "If you were to want to depose Angus in the future, or if you wanted to teach him a lesson...I would offer my assistance," Fenrir said carefully. "I will save that favour for the future."

Alecto shifted in her position sat in the lounge chair, finding the cushions uncomfortable, yet a stoic expression remained rooted on her features, unwilling to shed any emotion around the beast. The odd concept was, if he was not the beast he was, she was certain the two would get along well enough. They shared a creative insight when it came to methods that intrigued them. "I will, if it's necessary."

"Perhaps you might wish to choose your wording carefully, if you do not like what others might have to say in return." A nonchalant drop of her shoulders. "Are we done with this topic?" Alecto was, and he was wasting her time.

Alecto wished not to physical harm Angus, it would ruin the work that went behind making the alliance and the part that she played, and knew it would upset the Dark Lord. She took mental note of what was being shared, giving a small nod of her head. "I think that will suffice. I do not take kind to be treated like an object." Something she could use against him if he tried to make another move on her, at least now she was married and soon to be a mother, perhaps he'd have a little more respect. "If there is something you need, I shall return the favour."

Fenrir couldn't stop the look of absolute bafflement on his face as the woman rambled about protective whiskey. "The only thing this whiskey is protecting me from is the Christmas crowds, and it's giving me a cheerful mood," he said, tone laced with sarcasm. At her next question, Fen tilted his head slightly, considering the words. "Whiskey makes me feel good. I don't need to worry about being seen, I seem to attract attention wherever I go without me working for it."

"Huh." The sound came out a soft note, permeated with sincere interest. "Amber's thought to ward off negative energy. Maybe that whiskey's protecting you from something," she said, writing something else down before throwing the quill in the depths of her handbag, folding the napkin up and putting it in her pocket. "Did it make you feel good when I did? Did you feel seen?" A gentle tug pulled the corners of her lips into a small smirk.

TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET AS PAUL ATREIDES Dune: Part Two dir. Denis Villeneuve

Having already sent an owl to warn of her impending arrival, Cassie had apparated across to Val's at 7pm on the dot. She had two bottles of wine in her bag along with a box of chocolates, and as soon as she apparated into her friend's home she threw herself down on the couch. "I brought wine!" she called loudly, wondering whereabouts in the house Val was. @valeria-flint

Regulus wondered whether Rabastan being able to cast off the curse so easily was due to the advance warning that he'd had of the casting, or whether it was his own weakness. He didn't want to be weak. Regulus ached to be strong, to be the man his father demanded he be. His father had tried to carve him into that with blood and violence, demanding obedience and respect rather than earning it. At least there was trust between himself and Rabastan, and that his poor attempt at the imperius curse hadn't been retaliated with the cruciatus immediately.

He saw a brief flicker of something that might be pride in Rab's eyes before it was replaced with the soothing calm of the imperius curse. He stepped closer to his mentor and held his hand out to receive Rabastan's wand, hissing ever so slightly at the sparks that fell onto his skin, but he did not waver in his concentration on the task at hand. He wanted Rabastan's wand to be surrendered, and he would bend Rabastan's will to meet his own.

Pocketing his mentor's wand out of reach, Regulus was struck by the feeling of true power that it offered. In normal circumstances, he knew that Rabastan would never surrender his wand to anyone - so that Regulus had been able to take it from him was testament to the strength of his curse. He could make Rabastan do anything right now, and he knew it. "Your signet ring. Give me your signet ring.” Anything that made the man a Lestrange.

Rabastan had a few seconds to consider Regulus's attempt, though he didn't proceed very far beyond deciding that something had been lacking in its execution. Rabastan was practised at throwing aside this spell. But it should not have been possible when he'd yielded to it so willingly and completely. There was a certain amount of trust between the two Death Eaters. Rabastan would not submit himself to many so easily, and it was with a slash of rising pride that he acknowledged the other wizard's second attempt before the spell drowned him once more.

He had taught him to be relentless. Speed, precision and creativity were Rabastan's strengths and he had attempted to encourage them in Regulus. As the curse struck again, his expression faded from his wicked thrill and headed rapidly towards a pure happiness that was far detached from his usual stern repertoire. The strength was far greater. This time it pervaded him with no chink in its armour, and having no conscious desire to resist Regulus's efforts, Rabastan extended his own wand and pointed it heedlessly.

For a wild instant, he thought that he did not want to give it away. The weapon sparked lightly at that moment, objecting to its master's unwilling action. But it was futile. He stepped forward, offering the wand to Regulus. It was an action that would horrify him under normal circumstances. He had spent a lifetime crafting the wand to his will. Being without magic, and losing the efficacy of his wand, were his worst fears.

With the confessions he had made to Edgar, Regulus knew that this was it now. He had to entirely commit to this betrayal of all he had ever known, otherwise he was certain that he would quickly he detained and this encounter would be shown to the Wizengamot via pensieve. He wasn't in a position yet to truly trust Edgar, though he believed that Sirius knew and trusted this man based on what Edgar had said and that had to count for something. He could live a double life for a while, but there was only so long that he would be able to maintain that facade before it broke him in two.

"And what do you expect that will look like? Will I have to spend my life in hiding?" Andromeda and Sirius managed to live a public life from what he knew, but they had not actively betrayed the Death Eaters. They had never been marked, and they had certainly not shared highly confidential information to assist the aurors in capturing other Death Eaters. He was terrified as to what came next, yet he knew it was still the right decision.

Regulus' shoulders were full of tension as he expected Edgar to press for names that he did not want to give, and he slumped back against the chair with relief when Edgar didn't press. "Ensure you are there early. Muggles will be present, so the less casualties, the better. That's fine. I trust that my identify as a source will be confidential. The less people who know about this for now, the better. I am not ready to leave my family behind yet."

The confessions that were being made within his charmed office could have the young wizard locked up at Azkaban, constant state of his happiness being drained from him. The only saving grace for Regulus Black, was the notion of removing him from a side that only cared for darkness and distraction and reunite him with his family that would be grateful to have him, despite the demons he was trying to hide. They all had their demons that they fought, different from each other.

"I suppose there is only one way to find out." After his shift, he would make meet with the other Sirius brother and have a chat with him. There was no need to hide any truth, better prepare those when it all came to light.

"We will only do so where you feel safe, from there, we will pull you back and you will be done with that part of your life." The information provided did not need to be much, enough that their suspicions about some could come to public knowledge, making it a little harder for the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord's cause.

Edgar was a little disappointed that there would be no names, but the information that came afterwards, it was plenty enough. A flick of his wrist, a quill came out with some parchment, scribbling down what was being said through magic. "I will have my men ready for that." He would do a little more digging to see what would be happening that night. His head nods at the mention of Knockturn Alley, it was a given with the constant rumours of death eater activity. "I think that is enough. I will need a day to sort out protection for you." He had an idea of who, but it was about having a meeting with them first regarding their mission.

Regulus glanced back at Frank's basket again before plucking some ginger from the shelf and dropping it into the other man's basket. "I hear ginger's quite helpful for warding off sickness. Make her some teas or something," he offered, recalling from an advanced potions book he'd read a few years back. "Nothing like a screaming mandrake to ward off potential burglars," he said with a small smile, before the smile quickly vanished. "I think it might be too late to stop the passage of time...maybe I can study it though, at the ministry. See what I can do."

"It's gotta be a fake moustache...gotta commit, y'know. It can't be Regulus Black's shitty moustache. Maybe I should use a hair growth potion."

"Thanks," Frank said, sorting the ingredients to make sure he'd have enough for the few other things he had to pick up. "Now I'm definitely picking you up some other ingredients when I come back. I might plant a few for our apartment, they're good for security as well. Then I won't have to buy as many. Tell time to give you a break, you're too young for it to do so much damage."

He laughed before he could help himself, smothering his smile when the shopkeeper gave them both a confused look. "Well future Albert, it will be a pleasure to meet your mustachioed future self."

The longer he sat there, the heavier the weight of Lucius' judgment seemed to be. They were family now, and Regulus' family seemed to be dwindling every time he blinked. He ached for more - not that he thought he would find that in Lucius Malfoy. It was the pureblooded way to be like this with family, and Regulus was tired of constantly second-guessing himself around those who were meant to care. He was alone in the world, more alone than ever, and he was trying to cling to any sort of familial relationship he had - including that with his new, judgy cousin-in-law. "Hmm, maybe....but this is tastier. I've got Black family genes, I'm all skin and bones, I don't need to worry about eating several pies," he shrugged, pushing his plate away. Lowering his voice so as not to be overheard, Reg looked at Lucius and asked "how are you adjusting to having Narcissa's hobbies in your home? She's got a fascinating collection," he commented, curious as to how Lucius was adjusting to that. "Happy wife, happy life...that's what they say, right? Not that I'd know."

Lucius took a moment to let his attention drift from the pie on the table, up to the wizard in front of him. Words hung on the tip of his tongue, ready to judge on the need to eat two pies, though, they faded away, not in the mood to end up in any real banter. He wanted a night to relax from his duties he did earlier before heading home to his wife.

"You do not think substance might be better?" Get a proper meal in to fuel him. "The food here isn't that horrid." He had better at other establishments. "Married life is fine." They had spent a lot of time together, but it was nice knowing that at the end of the night, she did not have to leave, a comfort waking up to her beside him. "That is good to know. I do not like when she is unhappy."