Whatever Regulus Had Thought Was Going To Happen When He Had Approached Edgar's Office, He Hadn't Anticipated

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

The week between Christmas and New Year seemed to pass with a blur. He had taken the week off work to spend as much time with Magnus as possible, including spending half a day building some lego with him which he'd then left out for Fenrir to step on in the night without a lumos to guide his way. He knew there was only so many Christmases he'd get with his son while he still felt the magic of it all, and Fenrir had wanted to soak in every minute. Going away with Pandora for New Years felt like the perfect end to his year, and the right start to the next once.

The cabin was close to Lake Windemere, but still private enough that it felt like a slice of paradise. It was exactly the sort of place that Fenrir loved being, disconnected from society with plenty of nature surrounding them. He'd just uncorked a bottle of champagne and poured them both a glass when he felt his witch's arms circling him, and he reached down to tangle their hands together. "I did say something about stars. I thought we could take a blanket outside along with these, pick out some constellations," he said, squeezing her hand gently. "You are tiny, my darling."

where: 31st of december where: cabin on the lake district who: @battle-scvrs (Fenrir Greyback)

Pandora had been looking forward to get little trip away with Fenrir since he mentioned in Christmas day. The week seemed to have more purpose and she held her duties before work, family and at nights she would spend it with him.

After dinner they collected their bags and apparated to a cabin that he had on the lake districts, the two of them tucked away from the world, the way she liked it. Pandora came out of the bedroom to find him in the kitchen. "This place is beautiful." There was an tranquility about it.

"If I remember, you mentioned something about stars." She wraps her arms from behind him, her head hitting the middle of his back, nipping gently. "I never realise how short I am until I'm standing next to you." She chuckles softly.

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.”

Fenrir had headed out into some woodland in the Cotswolds following on from a shift at the White Wyvern. He would head home to collect his son soon, but Fenrir sometimes needed to walk off a long shift and he had several preferred haunts across the countryside outside of London where he could usually be found in the middle of the night. He loved the quietness of the woods at night, and with his heightened senses, he didn't even need to illuminate his path. As he wound his way deeper into the woodlands, Fenrir heard some non-natural noise ahead.

Wand now in hand, Fenrir continued to approach quietly. The figure came into sight, and Fen let out a small sigh. The youngest Nott sibling, Pandora, alone in the woods at night. "Pandora...is it safe for you to be out in the woods so late? Don't you know creatures prowl between these trees?" he called, wand still in hand just in case she shot a jinx his way. @pandoraxnott

I've become so numb, I can't feel you there, Become so tired, so much more aware. I'm becoming this, all I want to do, Is be more like me and be less like you.

@battle-scvrs

With each passing day, Regulus could no longer deny the growing feeling of resentment that he felt. He felt like a pawn being moved about on a chessboard by different players, all with little care for his feelings or wellbeing. Theoretically, Regulus knew that there were people who cared for him...but the way that seemed to manifest was driving him further away. He had never been quite so lonely in all of his life, and he feared that if he disappeared the next day nobody would know to look for him for some time. Something had to change, but he was in too deep. He'd been in too deep since his mother had frogmarched him in front of the Dark Lord and practically held his arm still for the mark to be burned into him.

His posture was rigid, but Regulus kept one hand in his pocket where his wand lay. He was certain that this office was warded and full of protective charms that would work in Edgar's favour, but if things were to turn nasty he wanted to at least give himself a fighting chance to escape. "I would prefer to stand, thank you," Regulus said, standing just behind the empty chair. "I thought the matter from the other day was settled, I'm not sure what further questions there are to be asked."

Eyeing the photo of the Black family heirloom that Edgar was showing him, Regulus summoned every inch of pureblooded training that his parents had painstakingly instilled in him to keep his expression clear. "I spoke freely and of my own accord last time. I swore to the truth of my words. I'm sorry Mr Bones, but I can't assist you any further."

It was the look in the wizard's eyes from their initial meeting with both the Black brother's and he could tell there was something more, but it was going to take a little coaxing to bring it out. Sirius Black had proven himself within the order and there was this nagging feeling in the back of his head that perhaps the younger one, he could be an asset to how they could learn how to defeat the Dark Lord. This meeting could blown up in his face or it could be what they needed.

Edgar closed the door behind Regulus when he came into his office, a different ward of charms floating around them to conceal the room for ears that should not be listening. "Mr. Black, do have a seat." He gestured to the empty chair before moving around the desk to take his seat. "I had a few more questions and thought it was best if it was a conversation between the two of us." A pause. "I won't keep you too long. I understand how important your work is."

It has long been suspected that certain Black's were more than they appeared to be, aligning in an allegiance opposite of his. He pulled out pictures of the item that they were being questioned about last time. "I thought you might be more willing to talk freely about this."

The business between himself and Lupin was private between the two of them, or so he had thought. Given the way that Remus reacted so viciously about his condition as he called it, Fenrir was surprised that this woman even knew about his lycanthropy. Smirking back at the woman, Fenrir shrugged his shoulders casually. "If little Lupin's not careful, his family and friends will end up just like him as well...werewolves aren't made to be solitary creatures. He will turn one of you - and then how will he live with the guilt?" Fenrir mused. "You can join Mr Lupin if you are oh so concerned about his wellbeing," he said, running his tongue along the underneath of his canines.

If Aurora had it her way, she would make it difficult for the one in front of her, make him feel an ounce of pain that Remus went through. The way he broke him. She turned abruptly, eyes narrowing in his direction, a deathly glare coming from them. "He is better where he is, with friends and family that care about him." Her words sharp, holding truth. "Or what, please tell me what you will do to me?" She challenged him, standing firmly in her place.

Alecto's shuffling betrayed her discomfort, regardless of the lack of expression on her face. Fenrir was no fan of the woman in front of him, but he wasn't entirely heartless and he didn't want to see a heavily pregnant woman sit in discomfort in his home. "The couch is softer if you want to swap. Or I have some duck feather cushions that I can offer you," he said, offering them as a truce between them. "You won't find it to be necessary, Carrow. Yes, we can be done with that topic."

Fenrir tried not to get involved with the Scottish werewolves where possible. Managing his own pack was enough work without being dragged into the internal politics of another pack - never mind that when two werewolf alphas in the same room usually led to vicious fights. But to hear that Angus had wandering hands...Fenrir wanted to apparate to Scotland and rip those hands off. It was unthinkable to him that the leader of a pack should behave in such a way. "If you were to want to depose Angus in the future, or if you wanted to teach him a lesson...I would offer my assistance," Fenrir said carefully. "I will save that favour for the future."

Alecto shifted in her position sat in the lounge chair, finding the cushions uncomfortable, yet a stoic expression remained rooted on her features, unwilling to shed any emotion around the beast. The odd concept was, if he was not the beast he was, she was certain the two would get along well enough. They shared a creative insight when it came to methods that intrigued them. "I will, if it's necessary."

"Perhaps you might wish to choose your wording carefully, if you do not like what others might have to say in return." A nonchalant drop of her shoulders. "Are we done with this topic?" Alecto was, and he was wasting her time.

Alecto wished not to physical harm Angus, it would ruin the work that went behind making the alliance and the part that she played, and knew it would upset the Dark Lord. She took mental note of what was being shared, giving a small nod of her head. "I think that will suffice. I do not take kind to be treated like an object." Something she could use against him if he tried to make another move on her, at least now she was married and soon to be a mother, perhaps he'd have a little more respect. "If there is something you need, I shall return the favour."

Regulus wondered whether Rabastan being able to cast off the curse so easily was due to the advance warning that he'd had of the casting, or whether it was his own weakness. He didn't want to be weak. Regulus ached to be strong, to be the man his father demanded he be. His father had tried to carve him into that with blood and violence, demanding obedience and respect rather than earning it. At least there was trust between himself and Rabastan, and that his poor attempt at the imperius curse hadn't been retaliated with the cruciatus immediately.

He saw a brief flicker of something that might be pride in Rab's eyes before it was replaced with the soothing calm of the imperius curse. He stepped closer to his mentor and held his hand out to receive Rabastan's wand, hissing ever so slightly at the sparks that fell onto his skin, but he did not waver in his concentration on the task at hand. He wanted Rabastan's wand to be surrendered, and he would bend Rabastan's will to meet his own.

Pocketing his mentor's wand out of reach, Regulus was struck by the feeling of true power that it offered. In normal circumstances, he knew that Rabastan would never surrender his wand to anyone - so that Regulus had been able to take it from him was testament to the strength of his curse. He could make Rabastan do anything right now, and he knew it. "Your signet ring. Give me your signet ring.” Anything that made the man a Lestrange.

Rabastan had a few seconds to consider Regulus's attempt, though he didn't proceed very far beyond deciding that something had been lacking in its execution. Rabastan was practised at throwing aside this spell. But it should not have been possible when he'd yielded to it so willingly and completely. There was a certain amount of trust between the two Death Eaters. Rabastan would not submit himself to many so easily, and it was with a slash of rising pride that he acknowledged the other wizard's second attempt before the spell drowned him once more.

He had taught him to be relentless. Speed, precision and creativity were Rabastan's strengths and he had attempted to encourage them in Regulus. As the curse struck again, his expression faded from his wicked thrill and headed rapidly towards a pure happiness that was far detached from his usual stern repertoire. The strength was far greater. This time it pervaded him with no chink in its armour, and having no conscious desire to resist Regulus's efforts, Rabastan extended his own wand and pointed it heedlessly.

For a wild instant, he thought that he did not want to give it away. The weapon sparked lightly at that moment, objecting to its master's unwilling action. But it was futile. He stepped forward, offering the wand to Regulus. It was an action that would horrify him under normal circumstances. He had spent a lifetime crafting the wand to his will. Being without magic, and losing the efficacy of his wand, were his worst fears.

When the owl landed on his desk with a letter from Rosmerta to say that she had closed the deal on the Three Broomsticks, Kingsley immediately sent one back to say he'd be there as soon as his shift finished to celebrate with her. The next few hours felt like they were dragging which was a feeling Kingsley rarely had at work given how much he loved his job, but he ached to go and celebrate with his friend. As soon as he could, Kingsley disapparated to Hogsmeade where it had already started to get dark out. Ducking into the Hogs Head first, Kingsley had to throw down a few extra knuts down to get the 'beef' stew to take out. Casting a warming charm to keep it hot as he made his way back up the high street, Kingsley strode up to the door of the Three Broomsticks and nudged it open with his foot.

Setting the tubs of food down on the nearest table, Kingsley's eyes searched Rosmerta's before he beamed at her. "You, my brilliant friend, are the only person on this Earth that I would risk my life for by eating Aberforth's stew. Come here, I'm so proud of you," he said, drawing his friend into a hug. @ofxsorcery