All These Years Later, Regulus Still Harboured A Deep Rooted Bitterness Towards James Potter. It Was

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.

VILLANELLE Killing Eve / 4.08

As his victim hit the ground, a vicious smirk carved itself onto Fenrir's face. While he wanted to relish in the screaming of his victims there would be time for that later once they had extracted their mark. His gaze followed Thorfinn as he crept through the house, and he cast a swift cushioning charm on the ground to prevent too much noise alerting those upstairs. The last thing they needed was their mark apparating away.

Comfortable that the ground floor was now clear, Fenrir began creeping up the stairs. One guard stood in front of a closed door, and there was a brief moment of surprise on his face before another diffindo sliced the man's head cleanly from his shoulders. Casting a glance into two empty rooms, Fenrir gestured towards the last door which was firmly closed. His alohamora bounced off the door, and he turned to see if Thorfinn was following behind him. "The others are all in there. Four against two. We're going to have to blast through the wards."

Thorfinn stood patiently, counting down the seconds in his head before he apparated in with Fenrir. He could feel his fingers itching to get dirty and to cause some pain. This was what he longed for, what he craved, and an outlet he welcomed. The blonde followed behind the other, mask over his face, a smirk underneath at the destruction already in place.

He moved through the cabin, coming around the corner to where another law enforcement appeared. A disarming charm used, following his fellow death eater's way, a silence charm placed to hide the noise and with no warning, the unforgiveable death curse uttered, watching his assailant collapse to the ground. Two down, meant there were four more inside.

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?"

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?"

Sighing longingly at Nick's words, Cassie thought that perhaps she was long overdue a proper vacation. Even when she went away, she still seemed to end up bombarded with owls asking for advice. Perhaps if she went international that was less likely to occur. "I don't want to dash your dreams, Nick, but I'm a perpetually busy healer. I rarely have time to get up to anything exciting. I can tell you some of the most exciting wounds I've healed recently if you want."

"Blue seas and cloudless skies. It was the anti-Britain." Nick said with a sigh. He did miss the views, even if the company here was much better. Clinking his glass against hers he took a sip and gave her a look over. "What did I miss, then? Surely you've done something exciting. Emir was a bore when I asked him."

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.”

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.

— ‘ the hunter’s moon is shining, i’m running with the wolves tonight . . . ’

𓈒　　˙　　⊹　　‧　　☾　　. 　 　 ˚ 　 　 ⁺ 　 𓂂 　 ֗ 　

"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."