"No Rule, But Maybe There Should Be....too Often I've Been Here First, And Someone Else Has Just Waltzed

"You don't need to worry about it," Regulus said, his tone a little sharper than it had been since he'd sat down. "It's not about the war. Just because you are one of my officially assigned protectors does not give you an insight into my private life," though he'd already revealed far more to James than he imagined he would to his other protector. Bloody James Potter and his open and inviting personality, what a prick. That wasn't even to mention Edgar Bones for putting them in this situation in the first place. Clenching his fingers into fists as James continued talking about how hard Sirius' life had been, Regulus wasn't sure he'd ever manage to get past the bitterness that was deep seated within him, nor the overwhelming feeling of abandonment that threatened to swallow him whole. "I don't want to hear it. Not from you, anyways. If Sirius wants me to feel pity for his lot in life, he'll need to tell me that himself. I'll listen...but that requires him to talk," Regulus was fully aware that he was being a little childish, but he figured given everything else going on he was allowed a little grace. "I reckon a fist fight between Sirius and I might sort everything out. Wanna play referee?"

Regulus honestly wasn't sure who he was without the tangled web of feelings that had swallowed him whole for years. Perhaps it was the influence of dark magic impacting his soul, perhaps it was the general levels of distrust amongst the Death Eater ranks - he was always looking over his shoulder, fearing a betrayal. "Honestly, we've got bigger issues than my brain," he shrugged, before rolling his eyes at James' smirk. "It's intoxicating. It is...the power that you can wield over others. I can see why my friends have slipped down the path they have. I just can't...it's not right to hurt people, under the guise of blood purity, when really all they seek is power."

Regulus was still an absolute outsider to the Order of the Phoenix, and he was not interested in getting involved further than he already was. He'd been plainly honest with all those he'd spoken to - he didn't see what hope the Order had, but it was all they had given he knew there was corruption at the ministry. "It's the motivation behind it all," Regulus said quietly. "The Dark Lord's motivation is chaos, power and domination. The Order want to restore justice - or, that's my limited understanding anyways. There are curses that are reversible, curses that will merely disable someone enough for them to be arrested. You're more likely to land one when attacking, rather than fending off their curses and trying to stun. I'm not suggesting the Order should turn around and start killing people...but honestly, if we're going to arrest people and then give them the dementor's kiss, what's the difference? It's just a longer process but it's effectively the same result," and this was why Regulus was no major strategist, why nobody would ever look to him to lead. If the Order was always on the defensive, they would find themselves surprised and overwhelmed before much time passed at all. "I'm not asking you to sacrifice who you are, James. I respect what you're saying. But if it gets to a point where I'm fighting alongside the Order on a battlefield, I won't be using defensive spells and that's that. I will fight for my life."

With eyes fixed firmly on the mug of beer, Reg frowned deeply. "Even as recently as two weeks ago, my cousin made me practice unforgivables on her to demonstrate my ability or lack thereof. Crucioing my own cousin, then watching her disappointment because I didn't love it...my family's fucked up, James," he said with a small smile. Even as he was saying the words, he knew that it was only because Bellatrix cared - but wasn't that fucked up in itself? "How long have you got?" he asked with a small laugh.

Waving his hand dismissively, Regulus tilted his head slightly in James' direction. So James wanted to play dumb, did he? Well, Regulus would put a name to it then. "You're acting like you're jealous which you have no right to be. You said you're happy for me, and then did...whatever the fuck this is," he said, narrowing his eyes as James rolled his. "What's wrong with Caradoc? Or is it just....no, fuck that, I'm not gonna get into that." Regulus trailed off, feeling incredibly irate.

"What other developments?" he pressed. James wasn't typically the type of person to push anything; if someone wanted to drop a topic of conversation, he'd get the hint and segue into an other without a second thought. This was different. If it was something to do with the Order, or the war, it was important enough that he would at least try to get it out of him, even if he had to spell it out in black and white. He wasn't sure if it was real or imagined, but James noticed a look in Regulus' eye. For both their sakes, he hoped he'd imagined it. He nodded. "Yeah, I know. Though sometimes ... I'm sure he felt like it. What else could it be?" This all felt so sticky, complicated, and he was skirting around the things he truly wanted to say. "He has," James said firmly. "Even if you don't want to hear it. That's not to say you haven't gone through a lot, too. You both have the right to navigate this situation however you do, but a little empathy wouldn't be lost on either of you." James sighed deeply, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "This is bigger than some sibling rivalry. But it's better if you get this all out of your system now, I suppose."

It troubled him deeply that Regulus still felt like this after all these years. He'd tried to untie the vines, slowly, with love and delicate fingers, when he'd had the chance to, but it seemed they had all tangled up again. Or perhaps he hadn't done as much as he thought back then. "I can try." James listened quietly as he reeled off what made a good son and death eater, as if it were scripture. To some, he supposed, it was as good as. "Sure, but I meant more in a philosophical sense," he said, and couldn't help the smirk that crept onto his face. It lightened to something more soft as he continued. "You're lucky to have the conscience you do. Even if it might not feel like it. The world would be a much better place if others did, too."

To be honest, James didn't know much about the inner workings of the Order of the Phoenix, and he suddenly felt very stupid for it. All he did all day was fly around on a silly broomstick and shoot balls through a hoop. There were people who devoted their days to this cause, this fight that he claimed to be all-invested in, but here he was, unable to answer a single one of Regulus' questions. It was shameful, really. He listened intently. Everything he was saying made perfect sense, and yet, James felt a growing sense of discomfort in the pit of his stomach. "You're probably right," he agreed. "But then, what really separates us from them? I wonder about this sometimes. If I was put in a situation where I was protecting someone I love," He thought of Lily first, "Would I be able to look somebody in the eye and curse them? Kill them? Obviously, it's difficult to say unless you're in the moment, but I don't think I'd be able to live with myself." His voice was even. "I'd die for someone I love. A thousand times over. But I'm not sure, in good conscience, that I could kill for them. Maybe that's selfish. Maybe it means we'll lose, and we're doomed, but I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees. I don't want this war to turn me into something I'm not. I want to win, but I want to win on my terms, without compromising who I am."

Although it was on a far smaller scale, James could relate to far more of what Regulus was feeling than either of them probably realised. "No, I think I get it. As much as I can get it, I mean." No – had it been that obvious? He didn't want Regulus to think he couldn't talk about it further if he needed to, so James shook his head. "Confess to me. It's fine. I'll pardon all of 'em."

"Don't be like what? I'm not being like anything," he said defensively. "I'm being perfectly nice. I just said I'm happy for you." Of-fucking-course it was Caradoc. He rolled his eyes. Clearly, Regulus had a type. "Cool." There was definitely something wrong with him. He was acting like a moody, jealous teenager, and he wasn't even sure why, because he certainly wasn't moody, or jealous, or a teenager. A buzz filled his head, and he forced a smile. He wished Regulus had obliviated him, and then himself, so that they could both forget about this horrible reaction.

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

Whatever Regulus had thought was going to happen when he had approached Edgar's office, he hadn't anticipated this. All of the emotion that he'd kept bottled up within him seemed to explode out, in a way that was entirely undignified of a pure-blooded heir. Still, he would not entirely break down in front of this man - no, he would save that for when he got home. He could feel it brewing within him, magical energy thrumming to escape his veins. "I wanted to be enough for them. I wanted them to be proud," he said, knowing that he had no family now that would be proud. He had done too much evil for Sirius to ever look at him with pride again, and his parents...well, if this ever came out, he would be surprised if they didn't kill him themselves. "I always tried to make it painless. I didn't like...I don't like the torture. It never sat right with me. It was always quick, and painless," he confessed quietly.

Reg scoffed quietly as Edgar continued to speak on his relationship with Sirius, and he shook his head. "I appreciate you can't weigh in, but I doubt Sirius will want to have that conversation with me. Why would he want his little brother hanging around again with all his baggage when he has his wonderful, perfect friends who do no wrong?" he said, a little childishly.

"That is one thing for you to say, sat there at your auror's desk. I appreciate you risk your life on a battlefield...but I have family who will kill me, if this comes out. Friends who won't take this betrayal lying down. This is a significant risk, Mr Bones. I am putting my life in your hands to feed you information...there is very little I am comfortable with now, but I will do it anyways. It may grow easier, but for now...I am betraying all I have ever known," he said quietly, the weight of his decision now settling on his shoulders.

"No names, not yet," he said quite abruptly. He would not betray his friends in such a manner, not so openly. "There will be a raid at the docks in Liverpool this coming Friday, several Death Eaters will be present...if you get there early, you may be able to lay anti-apparition wards when they arrive. Several important members of the muggle parliament are currently under the imperius curse, and are working to bury news of any muggles that go missing," he said, reaching for some parchment and a quill to write their names down. "I'm sure you already are, but keep an eye on the businesses down Knockturn Alley. Illegal artefacts are being sold there that are being used against muggles and mudbloods, and some heirlooms are being transformed into cursed objects...the Black artefact you showed me earlier is one of them."

The more he etched away at the cold exterior that surrounded the youngest Black, Edgar felt that there was hope from the darkness there were having a hard time coming out from. Since the incident with Frank Longbottom and his near death experience, a fuel lit underneath him and he was more determined to shift the scales in their favour. It took one word, genocide, that broke the young wizard and relief washed over him.

He sat there in silence and let Regulus unpack it all, allow him the opportunity to let it off his chest and talk through all that pained him. This only confirmed that the Black's were death eater's, though for now, he wished to keep that information to himself. "I think you knew from the beginning that you were not like them. That what they are doing was wrong and I understand why you would hang on like you did. Family is family, even if they are evil." He paused. "I will say killing from either side is not easy, the idea of taking a life, but sometimes in battle, it's about survival, and you do what needs to be done."

"I cannot speak for your brother on why he left the way he did. That is a conversation the two of you will need to have at some point." There could be tension between the brothers, but he knew Sirius, family was still family, even if they chose the right side a little later in life. "I will keep that in mind." He was not going to argue, them sorting it out was a bonus.

"At this point, with this war that is hanging in the distance, we have all signed our death warrant, it is a matter of what side do you want to be on when the inevitable happens." Edgar knew his position would have many eyes on him, paint him a target, but he was a man that fought for what was right, no matter the cost. "I would not ask you to do anything you were not comfortable with, but all I ask is if you have anything that could help us. We would gain some advantage with having someone on the inside, even for a little while." The last thing he would want was to put Regulus at risk.

"What do you know now? Names?" They could always start with names. "This would allow us to watch them, to know who might come after us." With enough evidence, they could be at least start building a case.

All these years later, Regulus still harboured a deep rooted bitterness towards James Potter. It was a spot of darkness that had lodged itself deep in Regulus' soul, and he wasn't sure there was anything that James could ever do to make up for the deep feelings of betrayal that still needled at him after so much time. Rather than let on his feelings of hurt, he chose to school his expression into a cruel sneer. "Yes, I'd rather you go and speak to the staff...after all, I might be buying everything on this shelf. You don't know. They may have more stock in the back, and then you can be out of my way...out of sight, out of mind," Regulus said, growing more flustered as James appeared to not be moving. "How can I forget you're here when you're still talking? I would love nothing more than to forget about you, and yet here we are. I'm just looking for potions ingredients, nothing more."

He wasn't entirely sure what reaction he had been expecting. Maybe it was indeed this. Still, it hurt. If there was one person who had the power to make James Potter go from feeling like he was on top of the world to under it, it was Regulus Black, steely and cold to the point where James felt his sharpness bury itself deep in his chest. He couldn't even be angry. He probably deserved it. "You... want me to ask them to help me find something which I can already see on that shelf?" James repeated slowly. "Honestly, don't worry – take your time. I'm not in any rush. I'll get whatever I need to get after," he said gently, leaning against the wall behind him. "Forget I'm here. Unless you need a hand, of course," James added, standing back up. "In that case, I'm definitely here. Let me know if there's anything I can do."

"There's a lot of damage in both of those relationships. I did see Andromeda recently, I spoke to her about some of the mess going on in my brain...it was helpful," he said, a hint of a smile on his lips which disappeared as he thought about his brother. "Sirius is a...well, I think it's going to be much more difficult to fix whatever's there. He's strong-willed, we both are. But I want to try, and that has to count for something, right?" Regulus rambled, still unsure exactly how to go about speaking to Sirius about all of this. After all, Sirius had cut all contact with him since leaving home. "My dear, do you want me to come and cast silencing charms? I might be terrible at offensive magic, but warding homes and making them private is something I've forced myself to learn expertly," Reg offered, certain that if he was to publicly leave the Death Eaters then his ability to protect any dwellings he was in would become more important than simply protecting his privacy.

As he continued to keep his arms around Caradoc, Reg felt him relaxing more with each passing minute. Dropping another kiss against the crown of his head, Reg considered the other man's words carefully. "While you're still somewhat unknown, that may be a good idea. If our relationship gets out, a forged ID won't help you...not against my cousin anyway," Reg scrunched his nose up in distaste, thinking about how terrible Bellatrix's wrath would be. "But it's a good idea for now anyways. Things are getting worse, but I'm hoping that with some of the information I'll pass on to Edgar that the tide will start to shift, even slightly."

“It would be great if you could talk to Andromeda and Sirius again,” Caradoc said with a smile. He didn’t know Andromeda very well, but he admired her bravery for standing up to her family and following her heart to be with Ted Tonks. As for Sirius, they weren’t very close, but they were in the Order of the Phoenix together. “I might make it a habit to spend more time here, then. My upstairs neighbors are awfully noisy.” He chuckled, even though it was true.

He felt much more relaxed - protected - now that they had had this conversation. Every single day, Caradoc was on edge, worrying that he was going to be attacked or someone he cared about was going to be put in danger. “You know,” he began. “I was thinking of . . . Getting a forged I.D. Something that says I’m a half-blood, at least. I’ve heard that a couple other muggle-borns are doing it. It hadn’t crossed my mind before but . . . The other day I got stopped by a some guy in Diagon Ally. Don’t think he was a Death Eater, but he was definitely aligned with their ‘cause’. He knew me somehow, and he pushed me around a bit. When I pulled my wand out, he backed off, but . . .” He shrugged. “Things just seem to be getting worse and worse.”

Regulus had hardly expected a response to his owl at all, never mind a positive response. He wouldn't have blamed Andromeda if she'd ignored him; Merlin only knew he'd treated her poorly in the past. His recent experiences had driven him to write a letter, and now he was expecting his estranged cousin at his home. He'd been pacing around his living room nervously for a while, wondering if she would actually show up and then wondering what he would say to her if she did. It'd been a long, long time since he'd been fully honest with someone, and he knew the danger that it put himself in. The feelings of discontentment and unhappiness had been building for a while, maybe even for years, and Regulus had finally been pushed to breaking point. The sound of a knock at the door broke Reg out of his musing, and with shaking hands he opened the front door. "You came...Here, come in out of the cold," he said, gesturing through to his living room. "Can I get you something to drink?" @tonksxandromeda

Fenrir much preferred the quietness of this evening with Pandora to attending the Selwyn party where certain pure-bloods would look down their noses at him for his dirty blood when he knew full well they would work alongside him on a battle field without thinking anything further. If not for Pandora, he would have gone - though he'd have been in a foul temper all evening. "I can cast warming charms over you when we head out, but you know that I'll keep you warm," he said, knowing she liked the way he ran hot. He'd built up the fire in the living room of the cabin anyway, but his witch would curl into his side and seek warmth from him and he knew it. "Of course I do. If you weren't fun sized, I wouldn't be able to do this," he turned in her hold before lifting her easily so she could settle her legs around his waist. "There. You can see me eye-to-eye now," he grinned at her.

"Tell me," he said, his grin disappearing as he tried to guess from her tone what she might want to discuss.

If Pandora could stay here, call this their home, she would in a heart beat. All that was missing was Magnus. Perhaps next year, the four of them, never one to leave out Nancy, could spend it together. Her nose wrinkles at the popping of the champagne bottle, ready to have a little drink, yet, she would not unwind her arms around his, wanting to feel their fingers tangled together.

"I cannot wait to got outside and share them with you." He was like a furnace and would keep her warm, not having to dress to warm to go outside. "It sounds like heaven." Anywhere with him felt like that, a cloud nine she never wanted to come down on. There was no denying how short she was, especially beside him. "You like me fun size anyway," she teased back soflty.

"There was something I wanted to talk to you about." There were not many she talked about her magic with, except one who had shown interest recently, and with her clock finished, she hesitated a little to reach out, but there was this deep seeded need to please Bellatrix.

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

Edgar remaining seated was an indication that all of the power lay with him at the moment, while Regulus stood before him like a naughty child. Still, he would not sit - it was far too casual while he was being questioned on such matters. He stared down at Edgar, his jaw set firmly as he considered the man's words. Clearly, they did believe they had enough evidence to link the heirloom and it's recent use to Regulus, otherwise he wouldn't be called back.

But if that were the case, why was he here instead of simply being arrested and carted off to Azkaban?

"Mr Bones, I appreciate that you yourself have not been raised with strict, ancient family values. I know what is required of me, and that has shaped who I am. My words, and what is required by my parents, are one and the same. There used to be two boys to share the burden between our demanding parents, now there is only one...I manage as I must," Regulus said, his tone sharp. Those who had been raised outside of a Sacred Twenty-Eight upbringing could never hope to understand the demands and pressures that their parents put on them. "I'm not sure what my conscience has to do with this, Mr Bones," he said, though his eyebrows furrowed as Edgar mentioned his internal conflict that had grown so loud he could almost hear it roaring in his ears.

Staring silently at the photo of himself and Sirius, Regulus shook his head. "Sirius made his choice. He chose his friends, and he left me behind...he left me. He knew what our parents would do to me, and he left me anyway. He left me to rot," he said bitterly, though he reached for the photograph anyway. "Your idea of family, and my own idea of family, they differ. I have nobody, Mr Bones. I am alone in this world - and if I wanted to run to Sirius, I couldn't. I don't know where my own brother lives."

Frowning once again at Edgar's offer, Regulus paused. He'd been gearing up to leave, but the offer seemed genuine. There was another beat of silence, before Regulus finally took a seat. In a very quiet voice, he asked "what protection could you offer me against the Dark Lord? People do not simply leave the service of the Dark Lord. They serve, or they die. How can you guarantee protection, and safety?"

"And what would you ask in return? I take it this offer is not from the kindness of your heart."

"Stand if you must." Edgar did not care too much for what the boy did, there were more pressing matters at hand and he knew this situation had to be dealt with in a certain manner to work in their favour. He remained seated in his chair, hands clasped together in front of him.

Being meant with resistant was expected and he could appreciate how hard it appeared family ties were instilled in the boy, but that also would also aid his words. No matter how dire Regulus wished to keep his composure, there was always a truth written within the eyes.

"Were those your words, or words required of you?" A beat. "At times it can feel hard to free oneself of shackles so tightly encompassed around us. The weight of our conscience a constant struggle on what is right or wrong." Edgar leans back in his chair. "I see the conflict in your eyes Regulus." He was throwing all his cards out on the desk.

"Family doesn't force you to believe in what they want you to. A real family, they accept you for who you are." He pulled out a picture from underneath the one, a smaller one, of two boys together, one he had brought to him. "You have a brother who would accept you for who you are."

Edgar went to stand up, hands resting on top of the desk. "If you have nothing more to share, then I will not hold you." A pause. "But what I can offer you, if you decide to do the right thing, is protection outside of these walls, not within the ministry." Half of the people he didn't trust. "And I have a feeling you know what I mean."

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.