Kingsley Had Been Out On Investigation Work When He'd Received An Urgent Summons To A Sleepy Muggle Village

Kingsley couldn't be prouder of his dear friend. She had fulfilled a dream through hard-work, entirely undeterred by the state of their country. She had bought a place to call her own, to carve out something akin to a legacy - and with that came an added safe place for Order members, one that could be properly protected now. Mentally, he made a note to offer to ward the back room properly that evening, but he wasn't there for Order business. He was there to put all of that into the back of his mind, and to celebrate with his friend.

Nodding his head apologetically, Kingsley shot her a small smile. "I made an arrest earlier, but I then had to file the paperwork to go along with it and you know what I'm like with paperwork...I would much rather be out doing," he shrugged. "Oh, it looks awful...I might make us turn out the lights and eat in the darkness, it feels easier," he chuckled. "Every day these days is a long day, unfortunately. The job of the auror department is getting more complex each day, and then I leave work and essentially do the same for the Order," he reached to take the plates from Ros before he opened the takeout containers, and plated up their stew. "Now, tell me. What's your first order of business here as the owner?"

It had taken quite some time, but the happiness that came from it was unlimited. The Three Broomsticks was officially hers. Completely and only hers. There were so many things to do. It had been one thing to have an unsanctioned safe house in the back, but especially because she hadn’t been able to use the proper protective spells to make sure no one wasn’t found without the previous owner finding out about it. But right now, she could do whatever she wanted. So Ros was already making lists about it all in her head.

The woman was pulled from her thoughts when her friend made his way into the Three Broomsticks and a large smile formed on her face at the sight of Kingsley. “I was already waiting for you to arrive, took you long enough,” she said with a chuckle before motioning at the door with her wand to lock it. It was after closing time after all and with these times, you never knew what could happen these times. Her gaze moved towards the tubs on the table and she knew enough; she knew exactly what he had brought along. And it was confirmed by him soon after. “I feel very flattered. You do know that it looks terrible but it tastes so good,” she laughed at him before moving in, to hug him. She let go of him so she could walk behind the bar, finding some plates and cutlery for their food. “But you are late, did you have a long day?”

Regulus rarely escaped the ministry on his lunch break, instead choosing to eat lunch at his desk so he could return to his work quickly. However, today had been difficult and so Regulus had made an escape into the fresh air that Diagon Alley afforded. The bustling crowds down the street weren't enough to put Regulus off buying a sugar quill from the sweet shop, a childhood favourite that still satisfied his sweet tooth more than anything else. He was chewing slowly on the quill and meandering towards Flourish and Blotts, quite content to spend the rest of his lunch break amongst the towering shelves until he found something new to take home and read. Feeling quite at peace, Regulus found himself wondering why he didn't pop out more regularly...until his eyes unwittingly fell upon his cousin, and his niece. Stopping dead in his tracks, Regulus couldn't drag his eyes away from the small toddler clinging to Andromeda's side. He should turn and go, should make known his disgust, he should curse them for being blood traitors....and yet he did nothing. "Andromeda," he said almost involuntarily, his voice so small and quiet that she may not have heard it at all. @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."

"You don't need to worry about it," Regulus said, his tone a little sharper than it had been since he'd sat down. "It's not about the war. Just because you are one of my officially assigned protectors does not give you an insight into my private life," though he'd already revealed far more to James than he imagined he would to his other protector. Bloody James Potter and his open and inviting personality, what a prick. That wasn't even to mention Edgar Bones for putting them in this situation in the first place. Clenching his fingers into fists as James continued talking about how hard Sirius' life had been, Regulus wasn't sure he'd ever manage to get past the bitterness that was deep seated within him, nor the overwhelming feeling of abandonment that threatened to swallow him whole. "I don't want to hear it. Not from you, anyways. If Sirius wants me to feel pity for his lot in life, he'll need to tell me that himself. I'll listen...but that requires him to talk," Regulus was fully aware that he was being a little childish, but he figured given everything else going on he was allowed a little grace. "I reckon a fist fight between Sirius and I might sort everything out. Wanna play referee?"

Regulus honestly wasn't sure who he was without the tangled web of feelings that had swallowed him whole for years. Perhaps it was the influence of dark magic impacting his soul, perhaps it was the general levels of distrust amongst the Death Eater ranks - he was always looking over his shoulder, fearing a betrayal. "Honestly, we've got bigger issues than my brain," he shrugged, before rolling his eyes at James' smirk. "It's intoxicating. It is...the power that you can wield over others. I can see why my friends have slipped down the path they have. I just can't...it's not right to hurt people, under the guise of blood purity, when really all they seek is power."

Regulus was still an absolute outsider to the Order of the Phoenix, and he was not interested in getting involved further than he already was. He'd been plainly honest with all those he'd spoken to - he didn't see what hope the Order had, but it was all they had given he knew there was corruption at the ministry. "It's the motivation behind it all," Regulus said quietly. "The Dark Lord's motivation is chaos, power and domination. The Order want to restore justice - or, that's my limited understanding anyways. There are curses that are reversible, curses that will merely disable someone enough for them to be arrested. You're more likely to land one when attacking, rather than fending off their curses and trying to stun. I'm not suggesting the Order should turn around and start killing people...but honestly, if we're going to arrest people and then give them the dementor's kiss, what's the difference? It's just a longer process but it's effectively the same result," and this was why Regulus was no major strategist, why nobody would ever look to him to lead. If the Order was always on the defensive, they would find themselves surprised and overwhelmed before much time passed at all. "I'm not asking you to sacrifice who you are, James. I respect what you're saying. But if it gets to a point where I'm fighting alongside the Order on a battlefield, I won't be using defensive spells and that's that. I will fight for my life."

With eyes fixed firmly on the mug of beer, Reg frowned deeply. "Even as recently as two weeks ago, my cousin made me practice unforgivables on her to demonstrate my ability or lack thereof. Crucioing my own cousin, then watching her disappointment because I didn't love it...my family's fucked up, James," he said with a small smile. Even as he was saying the words, he knew that it was only because Bellatrix cared - but wasn't that fucked up in itself? "How long have you got?" he asked with a small laugh.

Waving his hand dismissively, Regulus tilted his head slightly in James' direction. So James wanted to play dumb, did he? Well, Regulus would put a name to it then. "You're acting like you're jealous which you have no right to be. You said you're happy for me, and then did...whatever the fuck this is," he said, narrowing his eyes as James rolled his. "What's wrong with Caradoc? Or is it just....no, fuck that, I'm not gonna get into that." Regulus trailed off, feeling incredibly irate.

"What other developments?" he pressed. James wasn't typically the type of person to push anything; if someone wanted to drop a topic of conversation, he'd get the hint and segue into an other without a second thought. This was different. If it was something to do with the Order, or the war, it was important enough that he would at least try to get it out of him, even if he had to spell it out in black and white. He wasn't sure if it was real or imagined, but James noticed a look in Regulus' eye. For both their sakes, he hoped he'd imagined it. He nodded. "Yeah, I know. Though sometimes ... I'm sure he felt like it. What else could it be?" This all felt so sticky, complicated, and he was skirting around the things he truly wanted to say. "He has," James said firmly. "Even if you don't want to hear it. That's not to say you haven't gone through a lot, too. You both have the right to navigate this situation however you do, but a little empathy wouldn't be lost on either of you." James sighed deeply, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "This is bigger than some sibling rivalry. But it's better if you get this all out of your system now, I suppose."

It troubled him deeply that Regulus still felt like this after all these years. He'd tried to untie the vines, slowly, with love and delicate fingers, when he'd had the chance to, but it seemed they had all tangled up again. Or perhaps he hadn't done as much as he thought back then. "I can try." James listened quietly as he reeled off what made a good son and death eater, as if it were scripture. To some, he supposed, it was as good as. "Sure, but I meant more in a philosophical sense," he said, and couldn't help the smirk that crept onto his face. It lightened to something more soft as he continued. "You're lucky to have the conscience you do. Even if it might not feel like it. The world would be a much better place if others did, too."

To be honest, James didn't know much about the inner workings of the Order of the Phoenix, and he suddenly felt very stupid for it. All he did all day was fly around on a silly broomstick and shoot balls through a hoop. There were people who devoted their days to this cause, this fight that he claimed to be all-invested in, but here he was, unable to answer a single one of Regulus' questions. It was shameful, really. He listened intently. Everything he was saying made perfect sense, and yet, James felt a growing sense of discomfort in the pit of his stomach. "You're probably right," he agreed. "But then, what really separates us from them? I wonder about this sometimes. If I was put in a situation where I was protecting someone I love," He thought of Lily first, "Would I be able to look somebody in the eye and curse them? Kill them? Obviously, it's difficult to say unless you're in the moment, but I don't think I'd be able to live with myself." His voice was even. "I'd die for someone I love. A thousand times over. But I'm not sure, in good conscience, that I could kill for them. Maybe that's selfish. Maybe it means we'll lose, and we're doomed, but I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees. I don't want this war to turn me into something I'm not. I want to win, but I want to win on my terms, without compromising who I am."

Although it was on a far smaller scale, James could relate to far more of what Regulus was feeling than either of them probably realised. "No, I think I get it. As much as I can get it, I mean." No – had it been that obvious? He didn't want Regulus to think he couldn't talk about it further if he needed to, so James shook his head. "Confess to me. It's fine. I'll pardon all of 'em."

"Don't be like what? I'm not being like anything," he said defensively. "I'm being perfectly nice. I just said I'm happy for you." Of-fucking-course it was Caradoc. He rolled his eyes. Clearly, Regulus had a type. "Cool." There was definitely something wrong with him. He was acting like a moody, jealous teenager, and he wasn't even sure why, because he certainly wasn't moody, or jealous, or a teenager. A buzz filled his head, and he forced a smile. He wished Regulus had obliviated him, and then himself, so that they could both forget about this horrible reaction.

An owl had arrived early that morning with a time and a location for Regulus to meet one of his assigned protectors, which Reg had promptly burned. He was curious to know whether Edgar had been able to meet his request for any assigned protectors to be pureblooded, otherwise he was going to have to start thinking quickly a reason as to why he would be seen with them. He needed to speak to the auror again and see what kind of assurances he was putting in place to ensure that these protectors wouldn't turn around and betray Reg for the right price, as he was placing his life into these unknown hands.

Apparating into the back room at the Hogs Head, Regulus was grateful to see he was there first. A grubby looking pint of undisclosed beer was waiting for him, and Reg cast a few detection spells to ensure it wasn't poisoned before taking a sip with a grimace. He heard footsteps heading up the stairs before he saw the man, and as soon as James Potter rounded the corner Regulus immediately stood up. "No. No, no, no. This is not happening. This is not happening." @jamesffleamont

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?"

"Yes, my darling, you intrigue me. You're fascinating, and for some reason, I can't seem to get enough of you," he said, tone low and inviting. There were few pure-blooded wizards who were remotely civil with him, never mind the levels of intimacy that he shared with Pandora. There was still a world of difference between them, owing to their difference in species, but she had never shown any signs of disgust at his beast. He was no fool, he knew this would end - she would find a nice, pureblooded husband and he would settle down with a werewolf, and that was that. "A long while you say? My darling, I have a pack to lead, and a son to raise. I am a busy man, with many demands upon my time...but for tonight, you shall come first. I shall follow your lead."

A wicked smirk pulled at his lips at the tenderness of her hand against his chest, and he felt Pandora giving in just as easily as he had predicted. He pressed another light kiss to her jawline, his hands coming to rest against her hips to pull her closer. "I'm not known for being well behaved."

Fenrir didn't move his hands from Pandora's hips as she spoke, silently considering her words. Trusting non-werewolves completely was not something that came easy to Fenrir, it was not something he had needed to do for years. Deciding not to comment on her affirmation that she was the one person he could trust, Fenrir met her kiss before he drew back. "I'll do it. You have to test it, and I am a willing participant. There's nothing in my life that I am ashamed of others knowing," he said nonchalantly, before he reached out and placed his hands on the clock.

"I intrigue you?" That was not one would normally describe her as, intriguing, and that stirred something inside of her. "Here we are." A softness to her tone, unable to hide the growing smile on her face. Pandora found a comfort in his arms that she could slip out of the wizarding world and be her own identity. There was an acceptance of who they were that didn't need to be spoken. She also knew the reality of the situation. There was a challenge swirling in her hues when he continued to close the distance between them. "I think that is wise. I may need you for a long while."

A palm rests on the centre of his chest, goosebumps fleshing her body at the tender kiss placed at the side of her neck. The self-control she held, seemed to wane at his sly tactics, knowing what will come later. "I have faith that you can." A sultry tone to her words, teeth scraping across her lower lip.

The other hand raised, resting her palm along with the other, on his chest. "I know you do, Fen." Pandora could understand why he didn't, he was an outcast by the very society she walked in, but she was different than them. "You can trust me. I'm the one person you can always trust." Sincere amber hues fixating on his, still ready to back off if he declined.

"Yes, that is what is supposed to happen." The witch leans up on her tip toes to draw him down to meet her lips in a kiss. "You don't have to."

Knowing that Pandora got truly stuck into her work, Fenrir wondered if there was some benefit to teaching her some additional warding magic. He was sure that her older brother would've taught her well, if her parents hadn't, but the fact he had stumbled across her entirely unprotected...well. Pandora wouldn't turn her nose up at his dirty magic the way that the other pure-bloods did, who would brush off his offer due to his blood and his lack of magical education - as if attending Hogwarts made some of them any better than he.

"Oh darling, I know you like wild beasts," Fenrir murmured lowly, his gaze lazily resting on the woman. "Is that a command, or a request? And will this be business, or pleasure?" he said, attention turning to the object she'd been working on. Fen let Dora pull him closer, noting the look in her eyes that told him she was still focused on magic. "Is there anything I can do to help finish it off?"

Amber hues pulled away from the clock placed on the stone, that looked more like a table, to the direction of Fenrir who was closing the distance between them. That is when she realised that she had not set up her wards to warn her of others close by. She had been too eager to further replicate what happened earlier. That was a mishap on her side.

"Perhaps I like wild." The corners of her mouth turn into a coy smirk. The lack of fear that consumed Pandora would concern others, but for herself, she embraced it to her advantage. "Then you will be mine for the night." She was eager to see if she could get the same reaction she did with Bellatrix with the spells she had manipulated, already twisting the threads to strengthen the new spell. Absentmindedly the witch bridges the gap and reaches for his hand to pull him over to the object. "I wish you could see what I do. It was so close to working earlier. I need this to work. "

Fenrir sneered at the woman as she took another step towards him, and he stared down at her with unwavering eyes. She threatened him in his place of employment, and Fenrir wouldn't take any threat lying down. "Yes, like werewolves. That is what he is regardless of what he may pretend to be," he said, filing away the information that she offered him - a weakness for Remus. "You lay a single hand on me and you'll find my teeth in your neck at the next full moon. Ask Remus how empty my threats are. Now, if you have any sense girl, you'll run along and leave me be."

Aurora was fuming and without realising it, she found herself standing in front of him. She knew everything about him and the cruel ways he turned innocent children. "What, like werewolves? Just because we are not werewolves, does not mean he doesn't have his own pack. It can be what you make of it. And I suggest you leave my boyfriend alone." The words came firing out of her mouth that she had no control. "Careful Fenrir. I would hate to touch you and find something about your future." She hissed at hi. This was the one time she wished her powers would work to her will.

Scrunching his nose up with distaste at Sirius, Regulus fought the childish urge to find the nearest object that he could throw in his brother's direction. "Ooh, good one," he repeated, his tone mocking. "Oh, I've spent plenty of time listening to mother insulting others, and plenty of time on the receiving end of it too. Look at you, the family disappointment...and yet I still cannot live up to what you could have been," Regulus said bitterly. "I'm fairly certain my hearing will never quite be the same than it was before her tone got even shriller than when we were children. She still sends howlers in place of regular letters," he'd received one just that morning, asking him to drop round for tea after work. He crossed his arms, glancing at the closed door that they were waiting before. "Are the aurors always this bloody slow?" He muttered grumpily, not wanting to spend too much time in Sirius' company. Sirius had left him, and Regulus had grown up in the shadow of that loss. Years ago, he might have begged Sirius to love him, to take him with him and hide him away from the rest of their family. Now, he knew that was simply a childish delusion, no matter how much that hurt.

"Of course you did," Reg said with exasperation. He should've expected nothing less. "You should see your place on the tapestry...I'm surprised she didn't burn the whole bloody house down, never mind your face. What a gift you are to her," his gaze hit the floor and he scrunched his nose. Hearing that Sirius had thought about changing his name had hit him more than he thought it would, and it further demonstrated the distance between the two brothers. "Course you don't. I don't know why they even bothered calling you here."

"Ooh good one," Sirius remarked, rolling his eyes at Regulus's retort. "I at least thought you'd have gotten better at insults since I last saw you but apparently not," he sighed as if disappointed. "Why don't you ask mother dearest for help insulting others. She excels at it," he said with a grin. "Avoid her volume though, people tend to stop listening once you start screaming," he advised seriously. Truthfully, teasing and antagonising his brother was just a lot easier than letting his guard down. He didn't know what Regulus's opinion was of him anymore, but from the whispers and rumours he heard it was far from good. And it wasn't as if Regulus had ever bothered to talk to Sirius after he left; not even replying to the countless letters he had sent.

"I debated it," he sighed, shaking his head. "But why would I deny mother the pleasure of something to give out about for the rest of her life?" He shrugged. "I'm just thoughtful, I guess." Sirius would have loved to have been a Potter - and was constantly told he was for all intents and purposes - but he was never going to change his name, quite proud to be the literal Black Sheep of the family. He felt a twinge of hurt something when Regulus first said 'me' instead of 'us' but ignored it, telling himself it was just a slip of the tongue. "Whatever we're here for," he started, glancing back at Regulus casually, "you can take it. I don't want it." He didn't need any reminders of what his life used to be. He left it behind for a reason.