The Summons To The Auror Office Was Of Little Concern To Regulus, Who Would Quite Happily Shift The Blame

Frowning at the woman, Regulus stood straight though his body was still angled in a way that he was blocking the shelf. "What about I'm browsing this shelf currently did you not understand?" he muttered grumpily. "There's no common courtesy these days for the British tradition of queueing and waiting your turn. Go ahead," he said, staring at the man behind Greta who was also eyeing up the shelf that Reg had been browsing. "But make it snappy, I want to take my time choosing the best ingredients."

Greta had had a bit of a cold recently and she decided to slip into the apothecary and get herself some medicine so that she would feel better quicker. As there was someone at the shelf she needed to get to, taking quite a while she cleared her throat, apologetic smile on her face when Regulus turned around. "I just need some cold medicine and then I'll be out of your way."

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 was trying to be better, and he supposed that meant reigning in his haughty personality sometimes and overriding the teaching that was innate in him that he was somehow better than others simply by virtue of his birth. “It’s a horrible time of year for shopping…maybe there’s a business opportunity in starting a owl-order service for people who want to avoid this horror.”

Greta tried not taking it personally and get upset, knowing that sometimes people simply had a bad day. So her smil was genuine when he apologised. "I'm sorry too. I should have waited my turn. Let's just forget about it, yeah? Water under the bridge."

Reg kept his arms firmly around Caradoc, fingers running gently up and down his side to try and soothe him just a little bit. He'd been wrestling for days about what to tell Caradoc, and how to say it but he'd known that the news would not go down well. How could it? Regulus' family history was well known, but for Regulus himself to have been part of the army that wanted to eradicate Caradoc's blood status...he was amazed Caradoc was still here, frankly, never mind that he was curling into Reg for comfort.

"I'm definitely not in a position yet where I want to join the Order. It's tough, really tough...I'm turning my back on my family, my friends. But losing some family means I might regain my relationship with Andromeda, and maybe one day, with Sirius. I'm just not there yet to start truly, actively working against those I've always known on the other side of a battlefield," he said, the words tearing him up inside. Caradoc's quiet hope for the future had Reg's heart hammering in his chest, and he tilted Caradoc's chin upwards so that he could press a gentle kiss against his lips. "I'd like that. We need to make sure it's safe, but I don't want to keep you as my secret forever."

Gazing back at his boyfriend, Reg smiled warmly. "You know you're welcome here any time. My childhood home wasn't comfortable at all...everything was stiff, and proper and there was no space to just be at peace. This little home is...well, its everything I've ever wanted," Reg said fondly, glancing around the slice of the world that he had created for himself.

Caradoc leaned forward and rested his forehead on Regulus’s shoulder, calming down more and more as he listened to his words. The talk about being in danger certainly wasn’t comforting, but they were all in danger no matter what. He was just glad that Regulus was really on the Order’s side (not that he’d doubt it, but seeing the Dark Mark there had been super jarring).

“You don’t have to join the Order. I’m just glad that you’re giving them information. It could really help and prevent people from being killed. They will protect you, I’ll make sure of it. Maybe . . . Maybe, eventually, we could tell them about us,” Caradoc said, his voice quiet and soft. He knew it was silly to care about their relationship being a secret when their lives were at stake, but he needed something to focus on that wasn’t the danger constantly looming over them.

Caradoc leaned back, taking in the beauty of Regulus’s eyes. “I wish I could stay in your house,” he mused. “It’s so comforting in here.” Lately, he’d been disliking his flat more and more. It was small and didn’t have the proper wards set up.

Regulus's gaze fixed upon Frank with a curious eye, before he shook his head. "Whether I was in the shop first is irrelevant...if you were at the shelf first, that's what's most important. You'd be entitled to take whatever you need," he said, it making absolute sense in his mind. "A bit of a grump...not a huge grump, but a bit. I'll take it. Better than being known for being a miserable bastard," he said, lips curling into a brief grin.

"Oh, well now when I go home I'm going to have to sit and think about future code names. Leo is too obvious, he'd know it was me immediately."

"Maybe, but if you were here first you deserve some as well, don't you think?" Maybe he ought to try and talk with Regulus more often, this really was a fascinating conversation. "Only a bit of a grump though. Everyone has to work at politeness anyways. It's a learned skill. You could definitely do it.

"Why not both? Go fully under cover. Give yourself a code name. Could be a bit amusing, honestly."

Reg put the stopper back in the bottle of dittany, watching as Caradoc's skin started to knit itself back together and the wound looked several days old rather than fresh. With the most immediate issue dealt with, Reg cast a few cleansing charms over his boyfriend before casting a general diagnostic charm. With his magic indicating Caradoc's other wounds, Regulus was about to start healing again when Caradoc's words made him freeze.

From his position on the floor, Reg let his wand drop into his lap. He reached to take Caradoc's trembling hands, his gaze resting intently on the other man's face. "This is war, Caradoc. It's life or death, you had to do what you did to stay alive. He would have killed you without thought, and he wouldn't have gone home and felt a single scrap of guilt. I'm glad it was him and not you. And I'm glad you came straight here."

Biting down on his lip for a moment, Regulus was silent for a moment. "Did anyone see Edward die? Anyone that might identify you, that might retaliate?" Regulus might have started feeding the Order information, but to protect Caradoc he would fall back on his arsenal of dark magic and he would feel no guilt about it.

Caradoc inhaled sharply at the feeling of the sting from the essence, watching Regulus work on handling the wound. He had other wounds, yes, but he wasn’t really thinking about any of it. The pain was there, but it was nothing compared to what was haunting his mind. Something had happened tonight that would change his life forever. What if the Ministry found out?

“I killed Edward Avery,” he said, knowing that Regulus would recognize the name as a Death Eater. “I-I didn’t mean to . . . He was attacking us, he was going to kill us, I didn’t . . . Reg, I . . .”

He trembled, partly from the pain, partly out of despair. He had never dreamt that this would happen, even though he had been trained for it. Caradoc thought Regulus might hate him. “And everything fell down around us and I couldn’t move and I didn’t know what to do, Reggie.”

Regulus had received Bellatrix's invitation to tea with a certain degree of dread. He cared for his cousin, he truly did, but it could not be denied that the eldest Black was intense. In his heart of hearts, Regulus knew she wanted the best for him...but the way in which she went about it exhausted him, and now as he grew ever more conflicted the last thing he needed was for his cousin to sit and pry, or to diminish his magical ability. Still, an invitation to Bellatrix's home was not one that could be ignored - and at the end of the day, Regulus desperately ached to make someone proud of him and he did care for his cousin, even if she mildly terrified him sometimes.

As soon as Regulus set foot on Lestrange soil, he took a moment to ensure that his mental walls of occlumency were firmly in place before he approached the parlour. He didn't trust Bellatrix not to quietly probe his mind as they shared tea, and he had too much to protect to risk her catching wind of his thoughts. He shot a tight smile back, crossing the room to take the offered seat.

"Afternoon, Bella," he reached for the cup of tea, letting the scolding heat of the cup centre him. "I avoid everyone, cousin. I wouldn't take it personally," he said, grateful for his historic grumpiness to fall back on. Whenever he visited Bella in her home, he was struck by how much she fit here as a proper pureblooded lady, and how meagre his small terraced house seemed in comparison. "Mm...your ability with the dark arts is second only to the Dark Lord himself, I know you could teach me better than Rabastan," he said, offering her some flattery in the hopes that it would soothe whatever was coming next. "It would be quite rude of me to abandon Rabastan's dutiful teaching when we have gotten this far...I was improving recently," he said, though he grimaced remembering the panic attack he'd experienced out on the field. Thank Merlin he was masked, and Rabastan hadn't seen the true panic he'd been experiencing. "Rabastan is a perfectly adequate tutor."

Starter for: Regulus Black @battle-scvrs Where: Bellatrix & Rodolphus's home (a smaller manor on the Lestrange Estate) When: lunchtime

It was hardly Bellatrix's style to be domesticated. Yet she'd invited her youngest cousin for tea, knowing it was his favourite beverage. She'd given him more than enough space by now, to the point where the physical distance was beginning to make her itch. She was an intensely emotional witch. Though calculating and meticulous when it mattered, she was driven by passion - and at present, her passion lay with ensuring that Regulus was well. She did care. It was a skewed, obsessive sort of adoration, but it was genuine nonetheless and she would stop at nothing to ensure his wellbeing.

Once he joined her in the parlour, she looked up over the top of a copy of the Daily Prophet, the headline boasting a particularly wonderful depiction of the Dark Mark floating over muggle London. Paused with momentarily shrewd study, her eyes glittered over his appearance. Then she neatly folded the paper and smiled, patting the seat next to her in invitation.

"Hello, cousin." Glancing sideways, she slid the paper onto the table and reached for the teapot, her length of raven hair obscuring her features before she looked back up with dark petulance. "I got bored of you avoiding me, so here we are." Handing him a cup of tea, she then poured one for herself and sat back. Crossing one leg over the other, she looked very much like 'lady of the manor'. It lasted all but a few seconds before her eyes narrowed. "Why must you spend so much time with Rabastan? You know I would teach you far more and take you further than he ever will." Was she jealous? Absolutely. Grateful? To her chagrin, also true. As much as she loathed to acknowledge, it was convenient that her brother-in-law had taken the boy under his wing. She'd been alarmed to hear about his little blip during a recently incident - freezing while being attacked, indeed. Rabastan had been diplomatic when updating her, but she was not an idiot. She saw that Rabastan was trying to keep secrets from her. It wouldn't do.

Fenrir knew the importance of showing his face, and he would normally do it without complaint - although his mood would vary depending on the company. Not only did his appearances solidify his position as someone useful to the cause, regardless of whether the Dark Lord deemed him worthy to be marked, but he was a leader of a growing pack of magical beasts and their influence would steadily grow if everything went to plan. Still, following on from them making their relationship official, Fenrir could think of little else as important as spending time with Pandora. "I know you do...and I have so many creative ways to keep you warm my darling," he said with a smirk, his hands settling on her hips as he held her up with ease.

Frowning briefly at the mention of Bellatrix, Fenrir considered the initial impact that the magic of the clock had. "Will she be able to use it to see the secret I revealed? Bellatrix's interest is a dangerous thing to play with. If you give her the artefact, she may start pressing for more."

Pandora hated those stuffy gala's and functions she was expected to go to because of her last name. She did not care for the people, one that did not like crowded places and overstimulation. Mostly whey she kept to herself. The two of them going away was true to who they were and she wouldn't let anyone take that away from her. Octavius seemed fine with her not there, though she didn't tell him the whole truth of what she was doing. "I like when you keep me warm." A squeaks errupts from her lips when he turns to pick her up, legs and arms wrapping around their respective areas. A satisfied smile forms on her lips, eyes meeting. "I do like this way better." She always felt safe in his arms. "And I like the warmth that comes off you.

She trusted Fenrir, and knew he would be honest with her. "Bellatrix is interested in the clock. I've got it to work, our magic is bound around it and will have no effect on us. Do I give it to her?"

Since Lucius had settled himself in front of her and remained unmoved, Cassie had practically been waiting for him to ask for her healing services. "I'll send you my contracts and my pricing via owl when I get home. With how difficult pregnancy can be, I will be on call whenever either of you need me," Cassie assured him, though that of course would come with a hefty price - one she was certain the Malfoy vaults could spare. "Lots of protein and calcium. I have a list at home of some recommended dishes to meet the intake, I can send you that as well. It just helps promote Narcissa's health, and healthy growth of the baby," she mused, pulling some parchment from her bag to scribble down a list of things she needed to send Lucius. "Keeping your wife happy while she grows your child is probably the best thing you can do for your ongoing health. Massages, anything strange she's craving, sensitive gestures...it will mean a lot," Cassie said with a small grin.

They were in the process of find a suitable healer and Cassie Borgin came to mind. "I have spoken to my wife, and we would like you to be our healer." With her reputation, she could be trusted, her family a long history within the cause. Lucius listened carefully to what she had to say and nodded his head. "Is there a list I should be giving them?" He wanted to make sure this was done correctly. "I can give massages." He could try at least. "This is all note worthy information."

The longer this woman kept him stood here, throwing accusations around in his place of employment, the angrier Fenrir was getting. His fury was simmering under his skin, his wolf aching to get at the woman in front of him. Part of Fenrir knew that if he did anything to this woman then it would ruin any chance of Remus ever joining a werewolf pack, but the other part of him wanted to see if Remus would see the difference that it made when one had another werewolf alongside at the full moon. "I'll do what I want. Keep your warnings to yourself, you don't scare me girl," he sneered at her, before turning and walking back into the kitchen.

Aurora knew, in the pit of her stomach, that this wasn't the smartest idea, but the love she had for Remus, was stronger than standing in the back. She would fiercely protective of those she loved. Though, she could agree, Remus needed to accept who he was fully to gain better control, but that wasn't something she would admit to it. There had to be other werewolves that could help. "You act like you'd have the opportunity to even do so." She snorts. "I'm sorry, you mean where you prey on innocent children that can't fight back. How manly of you." She sneers, eyes narrowing at him. "I might be too old for your liking." The witch took a step back. "Stay away from him." She warns.