Reg's Shoulders Tensed At Alecto's Expression, Almost Curling In On Himself To Prepare For The Agony

There was a emotional war going on inside Kingsley's mind, and no amount of sitting and thinking about it privately would do him any good. It was almost selfish of him, but Kingsley figured if there was ever a time to be selfish was now. He'd heard whispers that Sade was angling for more missions within the Order and he'd be a liar if he said that didn't terrify him. He would never presume that he could control Sade or what she did, but that didn't mean he couldn't heavily warn against it. Kingsley apparated onto Sade's doorstep, knocking once as a courtesy before he pushed the door open and walked in. He'd timed it knowing Jasper would already be in bed, which meant that hopefully he could talk to his sister with minimal interruptions.

"Sade?" he called, his voice low so as to not wake his nephew. "Sorry for dropping in unannounced, but I need to talk to you. Urgently." @sadeshacklebolt

There were some evenings that Regulus didn't mind company, and some where he wanted to simply people watch until the evening slipped away. He'd been planning on people watching until the time came for his mission, curiously surveying the White Wyvern to see if there was any information that could be gained. Even in these dark times, once people had a pint of beer their lips loosened and secrets were spoken louder than necessary. Watching Lucius move over to join him saw those plans slipping away, but he didn't mind it too much.

Family was everything, after all.

"I've cast a lot of complex spells today, it was quite draining. I could eat two of these I reckon...need to get my strength back up," Regulus shrugged, shovelling another forkful in his mouth. "How are you settling into married life? I saw Narcissa the other day...she seemed happy," he offered.

Lucius glanced over to the voice, one to a face he did not mind, at least a Black that was still on the right side, causing him to slip from his chair and join him at his table. Hues glance down at the pie on the table. "I did not say you were not." Company he could appreciate.

"Has it been a day that you feel inclined to eat an entire pie?" He leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his drink. Lucius wasn't one to judge, but he was judging. That was a lie, he was always one to judge.

Georgette's explosive attitude brought a small smirk to his lips. With everything else going on in his life, he'd been itching for bit of a fight with very little real life consequences. When everything else was so life-threateningly serious, fighting over some jewelweed in the apothecary was the exact level of stupid that he needed. "That's funny...my mother once said I was her best boy, but my father was shouting at me that I was a fucking waste of space so I guess you've met them somewhere in the middle," he said, head tilted slightly to the side. "Maybe someone should tell you to be polite. You're quite rude, actually."

A dry laugh tore from his throat and he raised his eyebrows in her direction, more than amused at the idea of his parents being any help in this situation. "Oh, I don't need mummy's help any more. I can fight my own battles," he sneered. His advice had been well intended, though he knew it wouldn't land well. "I shall keep my unsolicited advice to myself next time," he said, elbowing her as she shoved past him. Turning back to the shelf, Reg began shovelling random vials into his basket, as many as he could.

Wait her turn politely? Was he fucking serious? They weren't at Hogwarts. And even if they were she would have no problem telling him where to shove it. “You’re a right pain in the ass, you know that I’m sure. Can’t be the first one to mention it.” She took a beat. “I don’t need anyone telling me to be polite.” It wasn’t in her genes.

Georgette had to fight for survival and no one was going to take that away from her, especially not some squirrely little chump with obvious privilege. "Maybe you should run and tell mum and dad on me for being a bitch."

Her face burned. "I know how to take care of myself. I don't need to go to St. Mungo's. This isn't the first time, nor will it be the last, that I take care of my hands myself. I don't need some little know it all giving me his unsolicited advice. Thanks." She pushed near him to look at the vials not giving two shits about invading his personal space.

"Oh shit, that is exciting. Now that I think about it you do look more tanned than anyone should be in this weather," Cassie said, casting her gaze over him again. "I bet it was beautiful blue seas, right? Nothing like the grey water we have here." When the bottles arrived, Cassie uncorked the wine and poured them both a glass. "Cheers to your birthday," she said, clinking her glass against his.

"Aruba, bitches." Nick said, smug as can be. "I tried being a changed man for like, two days and it didn't take. Pushes someone into the ocean instead, felt much better." It didn't take him long to flag down a waiter, took even less time to shove a few galleons their way and get two of their finest bottles of red. "Only for you, Cassie."

There was a saying that Regulus perhaps should have remembered upon entry to the Lestrange household, and that was 'don't poke the bear'. Upon seeing Alecto's eyes, it was fairly clear to him that his humour and general wit was not welcome here presently, and he shot her a wide grin. It would intimidate him if not for the fact he knew he held a soft spot in her dark heart, and his parents had trained him to be able to take a beating. He mimed as if he was knitting to her, before holding his hands up in surrender. 'Sorry,' he mouthed, trying to school his features to look somewhat sheepish.

Despite being a little shit, Regulus didn't want to truly piss off one of the few people that was still in his corner.

An owl had been sent earlier to warn her of his appearance. She was inclined to send one back refusing his visit, but with being home from Hogwarts for the weekend, and no use of her needed for the cause at the moment, his presence wasn't entirely horrid.

Each word that uttered from his incompetent mouth ignited a fire inside of her, her fingers itching to wring his neck for being so insolent. Eyes narrowed like daggers at the young Black wizard, her wand in a close hand, where she pointed it at him. "Silencio" A single word held him tight lip. Alecto turns to face him. "It appears Regulus Black, you have forgotten your manners and who I am." A coldness to her tone, not unusual for her. "Do not make me regret allowing you over." She warns, taking a deep breath. "If I let you speak, will you behave? I will not hold back from torturing you if you try me."

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.

Pulling the hood of his robes a little tighter around his face, Regulus had stowed his mask in his pocket as he awaited his mission partner. He wasn't entirely sure who was to join him that evening in muggle London, the briefing for his mission had simply been to arrive in Parliament Square at 7pm and await his partner before engaging. Despite living in London for much of his life, Regulus had never stood before the muggle Houses of Parliament and he eyed the building with a degree of curiosity. Muggles were so foolish and primitive, and yet some of them could create buildings that looked so beautiful without magic. Hidden within the beautiful architecture was the muggle government, and his mission that evening.

He heard the sharp crack of apparition into a nearby alleyway before he saw someone striding towards him. "Good evening, Emmeline" he offered, ever polite. "Have you been briefed on our mission here?" @notdelicatc

"If you needed the whole stock, and you were here before me, then that's your right," Regulus said with a shrug. The whole thing seemed quite simple to him - he wasn't sure why it was so complicated for everyone else to understand. "I'm fairly well known for being a bit of a grump, Longbottom. Politeness to others is something I have to think quite hard about."

"Oh, I know the owner is avoiding me. Perhaps I should enter next time under a disillusionment charm, or indeed under some other disguise."

"But what if I had needed the stock that was there?" Frank asked, enjoying this debate. Regulus structured his arguments well and speaking with him wasn't nearly as frustrating as talking to Bellatrix. "Perhaps you ought to start asserting your boundaries as the customer there first. Just, you know, politely."

He hummed and glanced over at the counter where the owner seemed to have disappeared, just as Regulus said. "I think the owner's avoiding you. You'll have to take them by surprise."

It wasn't like he set out this morning to darken the shelves of the Apothecary with his mood, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to be in and out efficiently, and he'd been pushed and shoved and bothered. Any reasonable person would be grumpy about it, though he did quietly admit that it wasn't the woman's fault that she'd been shoved into his back. Perhaps this was what he should expect from society these days.

Handing the bottle over, Regulus wondered how bad one had to be at potions in order to need to buy bottled potions from the Apothecary instead of brewing them at home. "People generally have lost all sense of common courtesy, never mind when you add the busyness of the festive season in," Reg grumbled, turning his attention back to the shelves before Sophia spoke again. "Yes, gurdyroot, it will add some depth and make the whole thing a bit stronger. Crush it in a pestle and just add a pinch in and it should work a charm," he offered. "I find some peace in brewing potions. It's methodical, just like cooking."

Crowds didn't overly bothers Sophia, but it was the lack of care of consideration towards others that did bother her. Yes, she understood the streets and shop was busy, yet, she knew there was never any need for the pushing and shoving some of them had resulted too.

She sensed the annoyance from him, though chose to ignore it, after all she could hardly blame him, she'd feel pretty irritated too if someone had been shoved into them.

"Yes" she nodded, taking the bottle from him. "Thank you, and sorry again. This time of years seems to send people into a frenzy." She paused, thinking to herself that perhaps she was simply talking too much. She went to turn away, but he spoke again, he focus back onto the man.

"Gurdyroot" she repeated. "I hadn't heard of that, clearly" she chuckled. "Thanks, I'll grab some. Looking at how chaotic it is out there, I think I'll need all the extra help I can get. Potions never was my strong point."

Deciding that by now neither of them was going to leave in a fury, Regulus finally threw himself back down into the chair he'd occupied before James' entrance. Reaching for the bottle again, Regulus took one last swig before he banished the bottle. With narrowed eyes, Reg pointed his wand at James' head before letting harmless sparks flash from the end. "If I obliviated you, Sirius would kill me. I don't need to give another relative a reason to murder me," he muttered, falling back on his brother as if that was the only reason why he didn't want to physically harm James Potter - even after everything. With curious gaze, Regulus saw the way that his words seemed to land and he cursed his big mouth for speaking before he'd thought it through. Still, it hurt. The situation was a nightmare, and no amount of Regulus pulling his punches would change that. "I reckon its my Uncle Alphard. He would think this was bloody funny," Regulus chose not to acknowledge James saying he deserved it. Maybe he did...but hadn't he suffered enough already?

Regulus crossed his arms to hide the shaking of his hands, shrinking back into the chair further. "You know who I'm disappointing James. You...you took my brother in when he left us, and it was me that was left to pick up the pieces, me that was left with the violent fall out, me that had to shoulder the responsibilities - the last male heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black. I think it will be worse this time, when it all comes out. Sirius and Andromeda was bad enough, shameful even, but for them to lose me when they had me marked and fighting for their side? It's unforgivable. They're my family, and I love them. I still love them, I will love every single one of them until the day that this war kills me. This choice will kill me, it's just a matter of...I don't know, trying to give your Order an edge before it does. I don't hold any false pretences about a life after the war is over...I'm not even sure I'll make it to the end of the war."

Taking a deep breath as James spoke, Regulus couldn't hold his gaze as he spoke of courage and bravery. Reg wasn't sure he had a single ounce of bravery in his body, not really. He was tired of his whole life feeling like a struggle. "I'm tired, James. I'm tired of feeling like I'm never enough, that I'm not good enough for anything, that I don't live up to expectations. This war has broken me in half, and I'm not sure there's much left to piece back together. But I will do my best, for as long as I can. And if by some miracle I'm still alive when the war ends...well, I'll figure out how to live, I suppose," he breathed. "I'll let you. It's easier, I suppose, having someone who knows how I can be. Less awkward than someone new trying to figure me out."

James knew instinctively what he meant. He understood that this was his way of having some sort of control in a situation that was spinning out of it right in front of them, and he nodded. Nobody did like wet socks. Just like nobody wanted to be protected by their... whatever they had been to each other. "I'm not normally a gambling man, but with you, I'll take my chances. Fire away," he shrugged indifferently. In the current climate, it was hard to be sure of much, but one thing James Potter did feel sure of was that Regulus Black wouldn't hurt him. Not like that, anyway. Words were something else entirely, and he'd felt all of them acutely as they landed in his chest, piercing new holes where previous ones had been starting to heal. "He's outdone himself," he agreed. "I s'pose someone's up there's laughing down at us. Thinks this is all some big joke. I think I deserve it, really, after all the pranks I've pulled. You probably deserve it, too, Reg. No offence."

Compassion filled him as he listened to Regulus speak, and James visibly softened. "I don't think I'm the hero here, unfortunately. I was asked to do this." This must be so difficult for him. It was almost like looking in Sirius' eyes when they were sixteen, though he didn't dare say this aloud. "Who could you possibly be disappointing,” James frowned, voice gentle, “by doing the right thing?" It was a rhetorical question; they both knew the answer. At long last, he sat down on one of the chairs with a sigh. "I don't want to be let out of it. Unless you want me gone, which I would understand. I can speak to Edgar to say I can't do it." His gaze, which had been fixated on his hands on the table in front of him, now went to meet Regulus'. "When I was asked to protect you – well, the double agent – I thought… Damn. Whoever it is must be so brave. It'd be an honour to protect someone like that. You may have ended up as far as you did because that was what was expected of you, but this choice that you've made... your conscience winning, despite everything you've been told your whole life, takes so much courage. I still stand by what I said. It'd be an honour, and I'll do it gladly, if you'll let me." He felt as if there was no air left in his lungs, as if it’d been punched out of him.