Kingsley Cast His Eyes Over Aurora With A Surveying Eye, And Her Nervousness Was Evident. He Didn’t

"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?"

It was almost too good. The woman had barely needed any pushing at all before she exploded off a cliff edge in fury, and Regulus couldn't hold back his smirk. It was so easy, and he had hardly a care in the world for the other patrons in the store as he continued poking the angry bear. "Oh, daddy dearest has lots of good ideas...it's hard to listen to him though when his dulcet tones are drowned out by my mother's shrill shrieking. Its a wonder I still have eardrums at all," he mused nonchalantly. "Your mother gave you 'rude' as a middle name? She must hate you."

Adrenaline was thrumming through his veins as she shoved him, and he shot her a shit-eating grin as she screamed, entirely unbothered by her sudden increase in volume. "Yes, you should be polite. You're bothering the other patrons with your shrieking," he said smoothly, continuing to pile random potions ingredients in his basket. With a keen eye, he watched what she picked up and as she walked away, Regulus pulled his wand out and subtly cast a vanishing spell on the vial in her hand. The rest of the vials were his, and he cast a quick protection spell over the basket to prevent her from magically stealing one from him.

She was beyond annoyed. All Georgette wanted was to go to the Apothecary, get some ingredients then go back to her safe space. This interaction is precisely why she didn't go out. Little pricks who thought they were better than everyone else roaming around causing trouble for no good reason. All she wanted was something to help with her hands. That's it. And the asshole had to be an asshole. She couldn't let him get away with it. It wasn't in her nature.

"Obviously your mother was wrong but your father had some great ideas. You should really listen to him more. Believe me. I'm nowhere in the middle. Not an ounce of me thinks you're the 'best boy,'" she scoffed. "I'm in father's camp." Him telling her she was rude like it was supposed to bother her was laughable. She lived to be rude. "Rude is my middle name and I'm not about to give it up now. Especially for the likes of you."

As he elbowed her, Georgette's anger seethed. She pushed him. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? I hadn't laid a finger on you no matter how much I wanted to. And you're telling me to be polite while you elbow me?! Fuck you!" she screamed. She saw him shoveling vile after vile into his basket. "You bloody bastard." She looked at the shelf they had been at. He hadn't gotten everything. She picked up one of the viles she needed and stormed past him headed to get another for her potion, shoulder checking him as she walked by.

Regulus' desire to go unnoticed as he went about his shopping died as he turned to face James Potter fully, his lip curling slightly in displeasure. If it wasn't enough to see his brother recently for the first time in a long time, now he was face to face with Potter. "Merlin," he mumbled under his breath, staring at James before he abruptly turned back to face the shelf. "You can fuck off actually, I'll be browsing for a while. Many important potions to brew, many ingredients to buy...I'm sure you understand. They may be able to assist you at the desk," Regulus said shortly, his stomach churning unpleasantly at the sight of him. His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes aimlessly searched the bottles, every single ingredient he'd come to buy suddenly leaving his head. He hated how flustered he got around Potter, still. James Potter did not deserve such emotion from Regulus, and yet...somehow he still managed to get under Reg's skin.

Something seemed to happen between the end of November and the beginning of December that made everybody want to spend their evenings between various shops in Diagon Alley. James didn't mind much – he loved crowds. In good spirits, he made his way to the apothecary to pick up some ingredients for a potion he was planning on brewing (or, rather, planning on asking someone else politely to brew) for his father, who was feeling a bit under the weather. When he heard who was in front of him, James stopped in his tracks. Fuck. "Yeah, okay. No worries. I'll... wait," he said dumbly.

It wasn't often that Fenrir bought work home, but there were occasions were the location was just too perfect. He'd shipped Magnus off to a trusted member of the pack because Nancy was busy, but he didn't want his son in the house while Fenrir tortured a man outside. He was free of all responsibility for the evening, they were guaranteed to be undisturbed, and his focus had narrowed solely onto the man in front of him. "Mm...he's lowly enough not to have known anything of note, but still, the Dark Lord cannot have traitors amidst the ranks," Fenrir said, his claws still in the man's cheek as he used the leverage to turn the man's head and look into his eyes. Staring back at him were pools of terror, and another weak 'please' bubbled out of the man's lips. There was no forgiveness here.

Fenrir's smile as he looked down at the man was bright, which should have been a warning sign in and of itself, but the man was clearly an imbecile. "I'm full of grace and of mercy. It's your lucky day! Evelyn and I have other matters to attend to, so if you can run fast enough..." Fenrir trailed off, eyebrows raised expectantly as Evelyn started counting. As the man raced away, Fenrir could still hear his heavy thudding footsteps amidst the foliage. "He won't get far at all. He's barely gone 100 meters," he said, head tilted slightly as he used his heightened senses to focus in on the path that he was taking. "Oh, I'll keep him alive for you, dear. I enjoy working with you too much," he said with a wink, before stowing his wand in his holster. He'd promised no magic, but Fenrir didn't need magic - just his preternatural senses, and his sadism.

"I think we could even give him fifteen seconds, don't you? Just to let him think he's won."

Evelyn had to appreciate the benefits of Fenrir’s home near the woods. Out here no one would be looking for them, no one would hear the man’s screams as they carried out their work. They had all the time in the world to draw this out and have their fun. She stood back, giving Fenrir the opportunity to have his turn even as a pleased laugh slipped from her lips. “Oh I don’t know that he’s much a danger.” Her lips curled in distaste at the thought that he was some threat to their cause. “Certainly a weak link that must be dealt with appropriately.” Her smile grew as she watched him dig his claws into the man’s cheek, delighted at the sight. There had never been any question when it had come to choosing sides in this war. There was something so intoxicating about the power it provided her. The thrill of being able to bring people to their knees like this as they begged for forgiveness. There was nothing like it.

Her lips curled into a delighted smile as he slung his arm around her shoulder, winking at him before she returned her attention to the man curled into himself on the ground. “Oh I suppose.” She agreed. “He does look rather sorry after all.” There was no missing the sarcasm in her voice. She watched him pull the man off the ground, avoiding the urge to clap in delight at the offer Fenrir gave him, knowing exactly how it would end. “Isn’t he just so gracious? We’re giving you a chance, you should consider yourself lucky.” She reminded the man as she stepped towards him, tapping him on the nose with her wand. “One…two…” Realization seemed to dawn on the man as he finally took a stumbling step back and turned, racing into the trees. She watched, a laugh slipping from her lips. “Three…” she called loudly before returning her attention to Fenrir. “It’s almost a shame, he likely won’t get very far before you find him.” The amused smile said it was anything but a shame. “Try not to kill him before I get there? I’d hate to miss out on all the fun.”

Reg shot Caradoc a disapproving look, reaching for his wand with his free hand. Under his breath he muttered the few basic diagnostic spells he knew, checking him over for his own peace of mind. "You should make sure you're checked out properly, especially when you're messing with curses. I'm no healer, but I think you're okay," he said, setting his wand back down on the side before he leaned over to press a kiss to Caradoc's temple.

Leaving the ball in Caradoc's court was making Regulus feel a little sick as he waited for a response, but he knew it was necessary. If it was too much, he didn't want to burden Caradoc with knowledge that may put him in further danger. He didn't want to lose Caradoc, who had become so dear to him so quickly, but he would rather lose him than put him at unnecessary risk if the other man wasn't willing. As Caradoc confirmed that he was all in, Reg took his hand, tangling their fingers tightly. "Thank you," he whispered gratefully.

"I'm not really sure where to start. Over the last few months, but particularly the last few weeks, I've grown more and more uncomfortable with my position in the war. I've kept it glamoured whenever I've seen you, but....well, it speaks for itself," Regulus brought their joined hands to his sleeve, drawing it back to reveal his Dark Mark. "I've been marked since I was sixteen. It's what was expected of me, especially when Sirius left. They got me in front of the Dark Lord as soon as they could, to establish me as a proper pureblood. But I have to admit....I've never been much good at it, and recently I've got so much worse. I was questioning things, questioning everything I've grown up believing."

"I guess I've always ached to be good enough, but I was trying to be good enough for the wrong people."

Caradoc closed his eyes for a moment, comforted by Regulus’s hand running through his hair. “Umm, I checked my head?” He said, knowing that that probably wasn’t the answer that Regulus was hoping for. He shrugged. He’d taken a potion to dull the pain, so that was good enough for him. It wasn’t supposed to wear off for about another hour.

He got more serious as Regulus continued to talk. He couldn’t lie, the words “life-threatening risk” did little to keep him calm. Caradoc tried to remind himself that technically, every Order member and every Ministry mission did put his life in jeopardy, so it wasn’t that different . . . Right? But, Caradoc had seen what Death Eaters had done to wizards who disagreed with them. He’d seen what they’d done to muggle-borns and muggles.

But this was what war was — taking risks. And Caradoc trusted Regulus. He trusted that deep down, Regulus didn’t align with his family’s twisted beliefs. He trusted that Regulus wanted a different life, hopefully a life they could build together.

“I don’t want out,” he said resolutely. “And I’m good at keeping secrets. You can tell me.”

Quirking his eyebrow at the mention of a birthday party, Fenrir mentally ran through his schedule. "I'm currently working Monday through Thursday, then Sunday. For the right price I might be able to make an adjustment and come in on Saturday," he added, thinking of the upcoming festive season. "What are you thinking? Full menu, or buffet style?"

"I wanted to know your availability for the next week. I wanted to discuss throwing a birthday party for my brother Emmett." He owned the tattoo shop right next to the White Wyvern so Emma thought this would be the perfect location. And now that her wedding stress was over and Seth and her settled into married life, she thought it came time to host something and do something for her brother.

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

Regulus had shown Caradoc more of his true self than he'd shown to anyone else in years - maybe even since Sirius left. He'd been able to show Caradoc his love of the muggle way of cooking, and hadn't had to pretend that the food he was serving had been made by a house elf. He'd shown Caradoc some of the gentleness that he thought had been left behind in the halls of Hogwarts along with the ghosts, and it had softened him. Caradoc had managed to break down his cold exterior, and with the slow removal of the bricks that Regulus had built around himself, the more uncomfortable he'd grown with his position in the war.

Leaning comfortably into his embrace, Reg smacked a kiss against Caradoc's cheek. "I'm sorry it's been so long...it's been kind of a wild time since I last saw you. I guess I've got a lot to say, and I definitely couldn't say it in a letter," he said, his voice taking on a tinge of nervousness. He wasn't entirely sure how Caradoc was going to take his news, but he wanted to be open and honest. "How nasty, my dear? I could never do your job...I seem to be better at setting curses off than breaking them," Reg said, thinking back to a recent mission where he accidentally tripped a curse because he was distracted.

As they settled onto the couch, Reg flicked his wand towards a pot of cinnamon tea that he'd made earlier and warmed it before charming it to pour two cups. The fire was roaring in the fireplace, and the world outside seemed to fade away as it always did when he was with Caradoc. "I won't keep you wondering too much longer. I've got a lot to tell you."

Caradoc immediately relaxed as Regulus’s arms wrapped around his waist, closing his eyes for a second. He always felt safer here, even more safe than his own home, because of the protective wards Regulus had. Plus, he knew that if this was bad news, Regulus wouldn’t have embraced him so warmly. It reminded Caradoc of how special this was, that he got to experience and see the soft side of his . . . Boyfriend? He wasn’t really sure what the label was, but it didn’t matter. They were together and they both knew it, that was enough.

He accepted the kiss with a smile, wrapping his arms around Regulus’s neck. “Hi. I missed you too. Receiving your owl was definitely a nice surprise. I didn’t want to risk my letter being compromised if I replied, so I came here as soon as possible. Just returned from a job this morning, had to deal with a nasty curse,” he replied, rambling on a bit. He was trying not to let it show how eager he was to hear this news. Caradoc had tried to speculate on what it might be, but couldn’t decide on a good guess.

Figuring that they should settle in, Caradoc took Regulus’s hand and wandered over to the couch, sitting down on it. He had dressed comfortably, with a snug jumper and jeans on.

Settling his own mask over his face, Fenrir offered Thorfinn a curt nod. He fell silent for the rest of the time until the shift change, though the beast under his skin was practically whining to be let free. As the patrol began to apparate away leaving the thinnest window of time with less guards, Fenrir apparated straight to the front door that had just been vacated and walked straight in.

In the first reception room was a sole guard, taken by surprise by Fenrir's sudden appearance. With a vicious curve of his wand, Fenrir disarmed the other man and snapped his wand. A lazy silencing charm prevented the other man from calling for help, before he smiled cruelly behind his mask. "Diffindo," he cast as he slashed with his wand, watching a cut appear nearly down the front of the man's torso. The man's mouth was open in a pained scream, though no sound came out as the floor was painted with blood.

He could feel that buzzing energy begin to spread from his finger tips and down his arms. The sudden need to let go and allow the real him to come out, who what he was truly capable of. His head slanted side to side. "Shift change is in ten minutes." They were earlier than he expected, but hidden nonetheless.

"I can manage the mark." It was one he had flashed into the air plenty of times, satisfaction hitting him each time. His hands rubbed together, pulling out his mask. "Are you ready for this?"

"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.