With Each Passing Day, Regulus Could No Longer Deny The Growing Feeling Of Resentment That He Felt. He

Watching the other woman shrink away from him, Reg briefly felt vindicated before an irritating feeling that may have been called regret prickled at his skin. He might be grumpy, but he supposed that Greta didn't deserve to receive the brunt of that grumpiness. Stepping back towards her, Regulus tapped her shoulder gently. "Hey...I'm sorry. That was rude of me."

Greta grimaced at his tone, shrinking back. "I'm sorry. I'll be out of your hair in a minute." Quickly grabbing the things she needed she stepped back, making her way to the register.

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."

Timothée Chalamet for Rolling Stone magazine, December 2024

Kingsley cast his eyes over Aurora with a surveying eye, and her nervousness was evident. He didn’t want to terrify the poor girl, but equally, he was not willing to send unprepared fighters out into the field only to have to knock on their loved one’s doors and deliver the news that unfortunately their daughter had died. Rolling his shoulders as he settled himself for a defensive fight, Kingsley watched her body language with interest. He felt her need to prove herself, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for her. Deflecting her charm with a lazy flick of his wand, Kingsley sent back his own disarming charm. “Disarm me any way you can – assume your opponent will defend with the intent to attack. Next time, I will defend with jinxes."

Aurora was slightly nervous meeting with Kingsley. There was an intimidation that seemed to linger in the air and this need to make a good impression. It was important to show him that she was capable of taking care of herself, so that he would tell Edgar it was fine sending her back out on missions. "I know better than showing up late." Not that she would anyway, being prompt was one of her traits. Her eyes widen when he asks her to disarm him, glancing around where she could feel the magic of the charms surrounding them. Her wand secure in her grasp. She raises her arm, her gaze fixating on his wand. "Expelliarmus." She speaks clearly and sternly, flicking her wrist in the direction of where he is holding his wand.

The brief flash of guilt in Caradoc's eyes that quickly got masked by pain once more made Regulus frown, but he would press for more information on that once he had dealt with the more immediate issues. "You're hurt, that is a big deal," he said, kicking the door closed behind them as soon as Caradoc was in from the cold.

Regulus settled Caradoc onto the couch, pressing a kiss to his forehead before he stood again to look his boyfriend over with an analytical eye. "Don't be daft. I can brew more potions, I can't find another Caradoc," Reg said, his tone stern enough to let Caradoc know that he wouldn't take no for an answer on this. "I think....let's deal with the splinching first, unless you have anything more serious? There's too much blood, I can't tell what's what," he said, rifling through the bottles he'd summoned to find his essence of dittany.

Kneeling before Caradoc, Reg moved the scraps of his trousers aside to get a clear look at the wound. Being unable to go to St Mungos after Death Eater missions had led Regulus to learn some basic healing, but he wasn't sure how much good he'd be here. "It might sting, okay?" he said, pulling the stopper out of the bottle before he dropped two drops of the essence on Caradoc's leg.

And here, the guilt was seeping in. One didn’t have to be a genius to tell that Regulus had been asleep, or at the very least planning to go to bed soon. Here Caradoc was, interrupting and bleeding out. “‘S no biggie,” he mumbled as he leaned against his boyfriend, thankful for the assist. It was only when he was inside that he realized just how cold it had been out there.

“Mission. It went sideways. I was with a couple other Aurors — told them to apparate and get help and I stayed behind . . .” He trailed off, trying to spare Regulus anymore of the details. Plus, he didn’t particularly want to think about it himself.

As they reached the living room, Caradoc let out a sigh of relief and leaned his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “This is enough, Reg. Don’t waste any of your potions on me,” he said, just happy to be here.

"Oh, if I were suddenly nice, assume that I've got some sort of terminal illness and I'll be gone within the week," he snorted with amusement, pulling a vial of powdered griffin claw from the shelf. "There's a difference between knowing, and hoping. Let a man cling to the only hope he has left for a bit of peace, Val."

“I think the moment that you are suddenly nice, we all know that something is up with you,” Val agreed with the young man standing in front of her. Regulus wasn’t known for his sunny display. She couldn’t stop herself from laughing at the next comment from him. “I’m sorry, that was me not being nice this time around. You should know by now that Diagon Alley is never busy.”

The streets of Hogsmeade would always make Cassandra feel warm and nostalgic, no matter how many years passed since she had left Hogwarts. She'd spent a small fortune in Honeydukes before heading into the Three Broomsticks where she'd settled herself in a corner near the fire with a butterbeer. Her nose was buried into a book detailing the latest in runic magic when she spotted someone approaching her from the corner of her eye. "I'm not working at the moment. If you need healing, could you speak to someone else please?" she asked without looking up.

Having already had one table complain about the food (which was absolutely the waiter's fault for taking a wrong order), Fenrir was braced for another complaint. "Oh, it's no bother at all. It's two cheeses actually, a mix of a sharp cheddar and an aged parmesan. I find it adds a lot of depth."

"Yes hi. So sorry to bother you. It's nothing bad, I just had the potato puree and it was really good." Greta smiled, trying to use her charm to her advantage. "I saw that you used cheese in it and I wanted to ask which one."

"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."

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?"