Fenrir Had A Feeling That They Would End Up Circling Back To The Subject Of Anders Greyback Later On

Taking affront at Edgar's upfront disapproval of his upbringing, Regulus frowned deeply. His fingers curled restlessly into a fist before he unclenched them again, quite unsure of what to do with his body. What were they as people without tradition? Strict teaching in the old ways had kept their kind alive to this point, and though he agreed it had grown extreme, historically keeping them separate from muggles had been for their people's safety. Hearing the word genocide was like a punch to the gut, and his gaze dropped to his hands. He was already in too deep, Edgar already knew too much. He was either leaving this room in custody, or...as something else. "I...I have done shameful things, but I hated it. Every single time I used an unforgivable curse, it tore me apart...fuck, I've been having regular lessons to teach me to be better at them. You know how fucking pathetic that is? A Death Eater who throws up every time he comes home from using the cruciatus, who had to have private lessons because his imperius curse can't hold...all because I was mentally blocking myself. Because I knew....it's not right," he gasped out, almost shocking himself with the way the words tumbled out.

And there it was. The first time he'd verbally admitted that he was on the wrong side.

Still, he didn't appreciate Edgar's heavy handedness when it came to Sirius. "Sirius chose his friends, he chose this...and he knew what that would mean for me. Even if I switch sides, I am tainted...I don't think he would take me any more. Not when he has his perfect friends. What need does he have for a brother who has so much baggage, and brings with him so much danger? If I do this, know that it is not for Sirius' benefit." And yet, the possibility of truly reconnecting with his brother, and with Andromeda...family relationships that he wouldn't have to perform for.

"What are you asking of me, Mr Bones? I feel like I am sat here signing my death warrant, yet part of me wonders if I did that at sixteen years old when I allowed them to place this on my arm," he said, drawing up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark. "Are you asking me to work from the inside? Can you possibly comprehend the risk that puts me in? Or...are you and your side, your Dumbledore, just as eager to let people throw their lives away so long as it is in service of your side instead of mine," Regulus mused, before shaking his head as he rolled his sleeve back down. "No more will die by my hand, and I have already told you too much...so I suppose it's this or Azkaban, right?"

"Whatever you are asking of me, I will do it."

"No, Mr. Black, I have not been raised with strict, ancient, barbaric, family values." A pause, letting those words linger in the air. "I come from one where through those family values you so protect, would mean I do not belong in your world because I'm not." More silence, "pure. You do realise what your kind is trying to do is called genocide in the muggle world." He shakes his head. "It is innocent blood that will stain your hands and from the look on your face, despite trying to hide it, it's already starting to break you." Edgar could be reaching, but for the most part, he knew he was hitting the mark.

"Sirius chose to stand on the side that is right. Yes, he may have left you behind, but he knows what your family stands for is wrong. And deep down you know it is too." He looks Regulus square in the eyes. "With us, you wouldn't be alone and Sirius would be at your side."

"I have auror's and other members who are within the Order that will aid in protecting you." He was already thinking who would best suit this need. "We need your help. They are growing stronger and we need some way to slow them down."

This was hell. It had to be. Some sort of sick, karmic punishment for all the harm Regulus had done. Didn't the Gods, or whatever powers may be, know that Regulus was trying to do better? Instead they offered him James fucking Potter, who was once again here to be the hero. James' stunned silence followed by the closing of his eyes led to a brief flush of relief through Regulus' bones as he thought James was about to apparate away, back to wherever Order headquarters might be and with them Edgar Bones and his stupid ideas of protection. That relief quickly died when James did not move, and Reg couldn’t help the roll of his eyes.

Blinking back at him, Regulus was aghast that James seemed most bothered about the beer. "It was getting into my socks," he said plainly. Nobody wanted wet socks, not even when faced with this situation. Taking another swig of firewhiskey for a bit of dutch courage, Regulus then settled the bottle onto the table before he gestured towards it, indicating James could take some if he wanted. "If I say no, will you forget this ever happened? Maybe you could just obliviate me right now and free us both from whatever funny business Edgar bloody Bones is doing," Reg said, staring furiously at the chair he'd been sat in as if that were the cause of all his problems. He remained rooted firmly in spot, and shrugged. "It might be hell. I think we're in hell."

If James had finished processing the scene in front of him, he did not look like it. Frozen to the spot, he didn't react – not to the clatter of the glass as it hit the table, not to the fervid string of words let out by Regulus. That all-too familiar ringing in his ears seemed to reverberate around the entire room, drowning everything else out, until it became so loud he had to close his eyes for a moment to stop the overstimulation. When he opened them again, he was still standing in the very same room at the Hog's Head. For some reason, he'd half-expected to be somewhere else. James realised Regulus must've said something to him, for all was suddenly quiet, waiting for a response.

"You cleaned up the beer?" It was the first thing he noticed. There was something oddly amusing about that. His weary eyes lingered on Regulus and the bottle that he was currently drinking from. What the fuck was happening right now? He'd never felt so confused in his life. Suddenly, he remembered why he was here, and snapped back to reality. "It's you? You're the double agent? What the ever-loving fuck, Reg?" He stared at him as if this would give him any sort of clarity. "I feel like I'm going mental. Is this a dream?"

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."

If Regulus was deeply, truly honest with himself, he had never felt the level of devotion to the Dark Lord that other members of his family seemed to. He wasn't sure exactly how deep Cissa's devotion to the Dark Lord ran but he was loathe to ask the question, given he felt it would have landed him in this exact situation - staring across a table at Bellatrix. Bella's devotion to the Dark Lord was unrivalled, and her devotion to her remaining family members was also unquestionable but it was that intensity that had sent Regulus spinning away because he knew his own devotion did not go nearly as deep. His devotion to the Dark Lord came from a desperate need to please people, to be good and to be wanted. The more time that passed, the more obvious it was becoming that trying to please people was ripping him apart.

Refusing to flinch as Bellatrix snapped in his direction, Regulus narrowed his eyes, head tilting slightly as he considered her words. "Is it that the Dark Lord needs to know everything, or is it your desperate need for control over us, cousin? You want to keep me and Cissa close because you're scared, and it's....fucking hell, it's too much. I don't see what good the knowledge of my brief pause on a battlefield does for the Dark Lord, but I see what it is doing for you. I doubt you've even been to the Dark Lord at all with this information," he said coolly. "Fuck, Bella. What if I'm happy being low level cannon fodder? I don't need to be in the highest ranks, I've barely got enough time to cope with the amount of missions I'm being given as it is, between training and work. I'm just fine without additional responsibility," he snapped, hardly realising that he'd announced his lack of ambition without a second thought.

The tension in the room as they ate biscuits was so thick Regulus could have carved through it with a knife, but instead he chose to reach for another biscuit from the floating plate as Bella poured him more tea. His gaze was hard and firm as he watched her, not daring to take his eyes away for even a second.

Sighing heavily at her request, Regulus reached for his wand. He could demand that she vowed it to him, but he would take her word for what it was. The swiftness of her curse finally made him flinch away from his cousin, and Reg frowned deeply. The difference in their ability was palpable even now - her wordless curse had been explosive, and Regulus's verbal spell would not do anywhere near as much damage. "Avada Kedavra," he said, using his frustration with the afternoon's events to fuel the curse which he sent shooting at a marble bust on the other side of the room. "My avada is fine," he said, having always been adept with the killing curse. It did the least harm of the three unforgivables as it was quick and easy, and if he had to kill, he wanted to do it swiftly. "Like I said, Rabastan and I are working on the other two. My imperio is improving."

Bellatrix knew his struggles - some of them, anyway. They shared a sibling fleeing from the family. The Blacks were no saints, but they were an establishment with certain reputations to uphold, and since Sirius and Andromeda had pissed off without so much as a second glance, it was left to the rest of them to pick up the pieces. Bellatrix may have looked at Regulus and mourned the fact that he could never live up to his older brother. But even she could see the hypocrisy in her own attitude, knowing how her parents had turned to her and Cissa to compensate for Andromeda's loss. Bellatrix had always been too brash, too unruly. She had achieved much, but she would never be able to fulfil the role they'd wished for Andromeda. Her parents would get no well-behaved duty from her, only an unwanted warrior. She counted herself lucky for marrying Rodolphus - yet another act that her parents perhaps regretted. The Lestranges, at least, valued her true nature. So she saw Regulus's faults, but she didn't blame him for them. She only wanted to assist him, to ease his efforts. But the stubborn little shit kept pushing her away.

It did not take too much effort to maintain the icy silence. As flamboyant as she was, she knew how to strike fear into men's hearts. It was with the sudden dissipation of her extravagance. It was the calm before the storm, though in this instance, the tempest would not be too great. She was keeping herself on a leash, determined to run a ring around Regulus before he could even realise she had done it. His persistent objections were becoming repetitive and - frankly - boring. He needed to change his attitude.

"Regulus," she snapped despite herself. "Nothing is ever fucking private, because we are the Dark Lord's servants and HE needs to know EVERYTHING. Yes, I pushed Rabastan for a true report because I could tell the smarmy wretch was keeping secrets. There can be no secrets in the highest ranks, and that is where you belong. You will not be low level cannon fodder, you will be one of the most trusted even if I have to burn myself to a crisp to get you there."

Now they both looked like petulant teenagers, nibbling on their biscuits and glaring at each other over the delicately spiced crumbs. Just to stop herself from retorting further, Bellatrix shoved the last half of her biscuit into her mouth and chewed on it noisily, leaning forward to pour them both more tea. This time when she heaped her sugar, she stirred it rampantly.

"Show me," she demanded more calmly, after swallowing what had become an unpleasant mush of ginger stodge. "Show me your curses, then I promise I will leave you be." He could take her word for it. She could lie without a second thought, but with her family she was nothing but brutally honest. Raising her own wand, she shot a jet of Avada green at a rather expensive vase gifted to her by the Mulcibers on her wedding day. The gesture was effortless, hardly any thought behind it. There was only the savage desire to kill, and it showed in the explosive way that the item shattered and flew across the room. "Take your pick of object, I really don't care what you destroy."

The Leaky Cauldron was full of patrons making a pit stop while they do their Christmas shopping, and Fenrir had elbowed his way up to the bar. If he'd had any sense at all, he'd have just gone straight to the Wyvern - but as much as he liked his job, he wasn't desperate to spend his free time there. Fen had been speaking to the bartender when a lilting female voice broke through their conversation. "I was just describing this whiskey...deep amber, but smokey and rich. Nobody's ever quite described me as poetic before."

｡･:*:･ﾟ★ OPEN STARTER !

Head cocked to the side as she looked at the person opposite her through curious eyes. "Wait, say the last thing you said again." She'd only been half-listening, in truth, but something had caught her attention. She grabbed a spare napkin and the self-inking quill she always kept on her, and scribbled down some words, before looking back up. "It sounded really poetic."

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

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.

"I'd be perfectly happy, I think. I have all the friends that I need, I don't need any new ones," Regulus said with a shrug. The last thing he needed was more people in his life to disappoint. "I just can't see how you can make friends from a brief conversation in public...it's surface level at best."

"You would really prefer to never have to talk to anyone again? Wouldn't that be terribly lonely? How would you make new friends?" They were so fundamentally different it seemed like each of them struggled to understand the other person.

There was a saying that Regulus perhaps should have remembered upon entry to the Lestrange household, and that was 'don't poke the bear'. Upon seeing Alecto's eyes, it was fairly clear to him that his humour and general wit was not welcome here presently, and he shot her a wide grin. It would intimidate him if not for the fact he knew he held a soft spot in her dark heart, and his parents had trained him to be able to take a beating. He mimed as if he was knitting to her, before holding his hands up in surrender. 'Sorry,' he mouthed, trying to school his features to look somewhat sheepish.

Despite being a little shit, Regulus didn't want to truly piss off one of the few people that was still in his corner.

An owl had been sent earlier to warn her of his appearance. She was inclined to send one back refusing his visit, but with being home from Hogwarts for the weekend, and no use of her needed for the cause at the moment, his presence wasn't entirely horrid.

Each word that uttered from his incompetent mouth ignited a fire inside of her, her fingers itching to wring his neck for being so insolent. Eyes narrowed like daggers at the young Black wizard, her wand in a close hand, where she pointed it at him. "Silencio" A single word held him tight lip. Alecto turns to face him. "It appears Regulus Black, you have forgotten your manners and who I am." A coldness to her tone, not unusual for her. "Do not make me regret allowing you over." She warns, taking a deep breath. "If I let you speak, will you behave? I will not hold back from torturing you if you try me."