𝖇 𝖆 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈

Reg had just been about to settle into sleep when the wards alerted him that someone was on his property. He was shirtless in bed, so he darted out of bed and grabbed the first shirt that he could see. It was haphazard between the shirt and his tartan pyjama bottoms, but if there was a threat outside, the last thing he wanted was to be shirtless. Rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes furiously, Reg slipped his feet into his slippers and quietly descended the stairs, wand outstretched.

Almost a minute had lapsed since the wards alerted him before there was a knock at the door. It almost soothed him - anyone with nefarious intentions wasn't likely to knock and announce their presence, but he was still on edge as he opened the door. The defensiveness running through his body quickly melted into worry as he opened the door a crack and took in the sight of Caradoc. "Merlin," he gasped out, opening the door fully. "Come in."

Stepping out into the cold, Reg wrapped his arm around Caradoc, helping him into the house. As they walked slowly through to the living room, Reg was waving his wand furiously, summoning all of the healing potions he had stored. "What happened?"

starter 002 for @battle-scvrs (regulus black)

location: regulus black’s manor

Honestly, Caradoc hadn’t even meant to apparate to his boyfriend’s house. When doing the spell, all that ran through his head was ‘warmth, comfort, home’ and he ended up here . . . Which he supposed was rather fitting. Even though he didn’t want Regulus to worry, he’d rather be here than his flat. Plus, along with the injuries he had incurred during the disastrous Order mission, he was pretty sure he had just splinched his leg a tiny bit. Glancing down, he saw a gash had ripped part of his pants. Well, damn.

Caradoc sighed, trying to erase the images of the mission from his head. They’d probably only show up in his nightmares later, which made him shudder. He slowly approached the manor, hoping that he wasn’t bothering Reg. A part of him thought that he should go home, but trying to apparate again didn’t sound like a good idea.

So, he knocked on the door, and also leaned against it while he waited for his boyfriend to answer. Even just seeing Reg would make him feel better, Caradoc knew. He’d only stay for a few minutes, he wouldn’t be a bother, he told himself.

While Regulus was growing more wary of his friends as his allegiances were shifting and changing, when Severus had reached out to him Regulus had gone without question. Reg had wondered whether Severus might understand his logic, particularly given his previous attachment to Lily Evans but he didn't dare breathe a word of it, just in case.

Stepping into Severus' home, Reg shrugged off his coat and hung it up. "I would love a cup of tea if you don't mind. It's freezing out - even warming charms don't seem to make much difference."

where: his home who: @battle-scvrs (Regulus Black) when: first of january

There was one person that Severus felt he could count on, a friendship he would be eternally grateful for. They had shared a few first together, but most importantly, he did not have many friends when he lost the one that shattered him on the inside. He could appear cold and detached on the outside, but that was him protecting himself.

"Regulus." A low gravelly voice echoes in the hallway, greeting him at the foyer. "The study is ready." He turns to find his way back to a room that was his safe haven. "Did you want something to drink?"

"Table three want to talk to the chef," had been yelled in Fenrir's general direction amongst the rest of the hustle and bustle of the kitchen by the bartender who disappeared almost as quickly as they'd appeared. "Fuck's sake...what now," he'd muttered to himself, wiping his hands against his chef's whites to make himself a little more presentable. Making his way out into the main room of The White Wyvern, Fenrir quirked an eyebrow at the person sat at table three. "I heard you wanted to speak to me, what can I help with?"

The summons to the auror office was of little concern to Regulus, who would quite happily shift the blame of whatever Black artefact had been found causing trouble onto his father. Regulus was extremely careful when out on missions - removing any and all personal possessions that may identify him if left behind other than his wand. Whatever the aurors believed they had found would be nothing to do with him - in fact, he'd be surprised if this wasn't more of a box-ticking exercise by the aurors to try and prove to the ministry that they were investigating something. Rounding the corner towards the meeting room he had been summoned to, Regulus stopped dead in his tracks at the familiar mess of black hair in front of him. "Sirius. What are you....why are you here?" @siriusbpadfoot

If he weren't as riled as he was, Bellatrix's icy silence would have driven terror into his heart. Despite all of the his insecurities and fears, Regulus was at his heart still a Black - and he would not back down. He didn't want Bellatrix's involvement, and her fury was only solidifying that he had made the right decision. The slight changes in her expression that were only noticeable because of the intensity of his gaze left him vindicated that the information was not for the Dark Lord himself. Whatever way Bellatrix tried to spin this, Regulus knew now that she had been meddling when he had expressly asked her not to. He had attempted to put space between them before, but now he needed it desperately. He couldn't afford for her to be messing around in his life.

"I know, Bella. I know. I don't doubt your intentions, nor your devotion. But I have made my boundaries clear, and you are repeatedly crossing them. I want to train with Rabastan. I've asked you to leave me be...my ambitions are mine and mine alone, and I'm comfortable with where I am. I want to serve the Dark Lord, but I also want to get on with my job at the ministry and study magic itself. I have little interest in climbing ranks, I just want to study," he said, mentally building further occlumency walls in his mind in case Bella decided to pry.

Regulus hated using the unforgivables, but avada at least was smooth and painless. He didn't have the stomach for torture, he never had and he never would. On a battle field he would use avada over any other curse, wanting to end the suffering quickly and neatly. At her instruction, Regulus froze, staring at Bellatrix blankly as she finished her tea.

The issue with unforgivables was that you had to mean it, and Regulus never did. With a slight shake to his hands, Reg pointed his wand at his cousin. "Crucio," he said, voice weak. The curse appeared to bounce off Bellatrix harmlessly, so before she could say a word he tried to summon up some of the fury in his veins from their earlier discussion as he cast the curse again.

If her previous silence had been chilling, the utter emptiness that followed his next speech could have frozen hell itself. For a moment, her eyes widened exponentially, her lips pursed and nostrils flaring with an outrage that flowed her veins like a devastating tsunami. He had called her bluff and she did not like it. Of course she hadn't gone to the Dark Lord. He wouldn't care for such a pointless piece of information, but that was besides the issue. She'd still needed the whole picture before deciding what to share with him. As she glowered, she placed both hands onto the arms of her chair and dug her nails into the upholstery. Better that than around her darling cousin's throat. It was a long time before she spoke again. Long for Bellatrix, anyway - at least a minute, in which she had struggled internally with the desire to deny the fear he'd so aptly identified. She never admitted it. Never. Her mask was one of merciless rage and relentless disgust. These things were far easier to acknowledge. They were simple to redirect, channelling her fear and her hurt into something more palatable. Blacks did not show weakness. But her family falling apart made her weak in ways that repulsed her.

"I only want what's best for you and Cissy." She took his words on board, trying her utmost to give him space. But she would be damned if she abandoned him completely. There was only so far that her patient goodwill would stretch. "I only want you to be happy and secure. If your ambition is so lowly, then I cannot change that. But while there is strength in my bones, I will do my best to keep you alive."

Regulus's sighing and flinching did nothing to soothe Bellatrix's concern. Quite the opposite, she was left feeling anxious - a state she most despised. But she was at least relieved to see his killing curse hurtling into a bust of old Corvus Lestrange, even if he'd had to speak it. Raising her fresh cup of tea, she took a deep gulp. "That was good, cousin." Not good enough, but she wasn't going to say it. Even she could see he needed praise. "Now Crucio me. But let me finish my tea first, I need to wash down that horrible ginger snap."

Finishing it fairly quickly, she then pushed the cup aside and held up her hands with a laugh. "Ready when you are. Don't feel bad about it, I don't mind a little pain." Truth be told, she quite enjoyed it. All that carnal monstrosity coursing through her every fibre.... Delicious.

"I'd be perfectly happy, I think. I have all the friends that I need, I don't need any new ones," Regulus said with a shrug. The last thing he needed was more people in his life to disappoint. "I just can't see how you can make friends from a brief conversation in public...it's surface level at best."

"You would really prefer to never have to talk to anyone again? Wouldn't that be terribly lonely? How would you make new friends?" They were so fundamentally different it seemed like each of them struggled to understand the other person.

Sometimes, Fenrir wondered how simple and foolish wizards had to be to miss the signs of a werewolf that were right under their nose. He knew that Remus Lupin tried to keep his condition under wraps, to live a normal life - as if he could ever be normal whilst resisting his true nature, his true self. Yet it was plainly obvious to Fenrir that the other man was a wolf, suffering with the after effects of the full moon. How the younger man had made it through seven years worth of schooling and now several years of adult life without his condition being realised, Fenrir was not quite certain.

It bolstered him though, knowing that he could continue growing his pack, and the wider population of werewolves without too much ministry attention falling on his head. If they could hardly see what was plainly at the end of their noses, then they would not see what happened in the Scottish highlands, or the New Forest. Before they knew it, Voldemort would be the least of their concerns.

Remus' refusal to look at him riled Fenrir, but he continued to keep his hand firmly on the other man's shoulder. "That's a shame. It's not meant to be difficult, Remus. It's a beautiful thing, what we are. We are the supreme species...we should love the moon, not fear it."

The full moon always took its toll on Remus. He had been through numerous months of the struggle but still had difficulty. He couldn't get over the fact that he was a werewolf. It had destroyed who he felt he was -- or who he should be. Life would have been so much easier if Fenrir had never changed him. It wasn't fair that the young child had been afflicted because of his father's actions. Little Lupin did nothing to deserve it. With being five years old when he was changed, one would think he would be used to it but he always felt the pain, both physical and mental. It was terrifying each month.

The days following the full moon left Remus feeling unlike himself as he was still healing but it didn't stop him from going to the bookstore. At least he had an easy job. It was one where he could relax among the books and the most help he had to do was talk books. And he had to organize, dust and just keep the store in order. He was able to do such tasks while reading in between.

However, on this very day Remus was going to open Flourish and Blott's when a hand reached his shoulder and a familiar voice chilled through his bones. Fenrir Greyback. "Difficult night. Yeah," he responded not turning around.

Regulus had hardly expected a response to his owl at all, never mind a positive response. He wouldn't have blamed Andromeda if she'd ignored him; Merlin only knew he'd treated her poorly in the past. His recent experiences had driven him to write a letter, and now he was expecting his estranged cousin at his home. He'd been pacing around his living room nervously for a while, wondering if she would actually show up and then wondering what he would say to her if she did. It'd been a long, long time since he'd been fully honest with someone, and he knew the danger that it put himself in. The feelings of discontentment and unhappiness had been building for a while, maybe even for years, and Regulus had finally been pushed to breaking point. The sound of a knock at the door broke Reg out of his musing, and with shaking hands he opened the front door. "You came...Here, come in out of the cold," he said, gesturing through to his living room. "Can I get you something to drink?" @tonksxandromeda

"No rule, but maybe there should be....too often I've been here first, and someone else has just waltzed along and stolen the last vial and then I have to wait for a restock," Reg said with a roll of his eyes. He'd started a small stock of potions ingredients at home, but it never seemed to be enough. "A store that doesn't seem to be able to keep the correct amount of stock in, Longbottom."

"Last I checked, there isn't a rule against browsing the same shelf." Frank said lightly. The Blacks were something else these days, their words cut as sharp as knives. Every single one of them had it and Frank didn't particularly enjoy it. "It's a store, Regulus."

Taking Alecto’s lack of argument as her acceptance of his lie, Regulus turned his attention back to the food. Rather than manually plating the food up, Regulus waved his wand and made the utensils do the work for him. “I know, I’ve come to expect silence from you…and yet, you always show up,” he teased, a small smile on his lips. He levitated the two bowls over to the dining table, before grabbing a bottle of pumpkin juice from the fridge. “Mixed…we’re trying to strengthen my ability to use unforgivable. I can’t hold them particularly long. My other magical skill is up to scratch, I feel. I wanted your opinion actually after dinner, I’ve brought two artefacts home from the ministry. I want to know if they perhaps might be of use for our cause. I can duplicate them if so, send the false ones back to the department with a faked magical signature.”

Alecto studied Regulus, taking a moment to see if he was speaking the truth. There was the worry that he would follow after his brother and she would not allow that to happen. "If you say so." The witch had no interest in debating with the young wizard, or simply using her magic to learn the truth. Silent steps moved around the kitchen effortlessly, the pad of her finger running across the surface of the island counter. The thought of cooking herself was insanity, and she was one that danced on that fine line repeatedly. "When have I ever sent an owl back, hmmm?" Both palms splayed across the counter top on the other side. "How is your mentoring going?"