"Oh, If I Were Suddenly Nice, Assume That I've Got Some Sort Of Terminal Illness And I'll Be Gone Within

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."

@battle-scvrs

Kingsley had been out on investigation work when he'd received an urgent summons to a sleepy muggle village in the Yorkshire Dales that was now the site of a major crime scene. "The obliviators have been called," finished off the message, and with a sigh Kingsley abandoned the trail he'd been following and apparated to just outside of the village. The Dark Mark was high in the sky and must have been visible for miles, which led to a countless number of muggles who's memories needed wiping - never mind the victims of whatever Death Eater had decided to use unknowing muggles as their playthings.

Moving through the carnage, Kingsley joined in the bustling groups of ministry workers who were slowly lowering the floating muggles. He joined in the work of getting the muggles down, but whilst he did so he quickly and harmlessly used legilimency to see if the Death Eater at fault happened to be unmasked in any of their confused memories. It wasn't something he would do on a magical being, but if he interviewed any of these muggles all he would get back was confusion and nonsense. Sometimes, needs must.

Just as he raised his wand to return another muggle back to the ground, a shrill voice broke his concentration and Kingsley drew a sharp breath. "Lestrange...always a pleasure," he said, not shying away from her closeness. He would not be intimidated by this woman. "Oh, and they were so inappropriate...you can't blame me for continuing to hold those against you now, can you?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. "As the auror in charge here, I must insist that if you are questioning any muggles that I am present...just to ensure good practice is being followed," he said, a firmness in his tone that confirmed he would not be swayed. "This is an active auror investigation, and certain processes must be followed especially where muggles are involved. I'm sure you understand, you're a reasonable woman."

Starter for: Kingsley Shacklebolt @battle-scvrs Where: a Muggle village, attended by Aurors and the Department of Magical Accidents & Catastrophes When: the middle of the day

As a Senior Minister, Bellatrix did not have to go out on active duties these days. But sometimes she inserted herself into the opportunity like a silver dagger slashing pretty pink flesh; wilfully and dishonourably.

So here she stood, the picture of elegance at a scene of terrible magical disarray. Muggles were floating around like inflated toys, caught in trees and windows and Merlin knew what else. Frankly, she couldn't care less. But her employer did care - and so did the Dark Lord. Aurors had been summoned, for her department had suspected foul play at the hands of Death Eaters.

The Dark Mark shining over the village post office did also slightly give the game away. That wasn't supposed to be there. Bellatrix now stood before it, a look of utter fury ripping her expression in two as she stared up at it and wondered which of her idiot allies had been so stupid to forget the most basic of commands. Eyes expanding in the sallow green haze, her hair whipped around her like streaming black ribbons, nails clenching into the palms of her hands. She was here to make this incident disappear from the Ministry's radar, but the Dark Mark made that work impossible.

Turning away, she headed forcefully towards the village square. She would rip the culprit's identify from one of these vile muggles' minds. That was the only thought in her head, until her sight fell upon Kingsley Shacklebolt and she smiled a smile of avaricious yearning.

"Hello Kingsley, my old friend." Stepping beside him, she stood too close for comfort and delicately brushed some non-existent dust from his cloak. Her eyes lingered on his midriff, where she knew he must harbour a sumptuous scar slashed by her own wand. Oh, how she'd love to see it.... Lips twitching with the involuntarily thirst for it, she pressed them into a curve and looked up into his expression. "You don't still hold a grudge against me, do you? For those inappropriate conversations at Hogwarts?" With a tsk, she stepped back and waved her fingers towards the Dark Mark. True anger filled her expression once more and she channelled the emotion into a new purpose. "Whoever is responsible for that must be caught and punished. You will have your perpetrator when I've finished questioning these muggles."

Georgette's explosive attitude brought a small smirk to his lips. With everything else going on in his life, he'd been itching for bit of a fight with very little real life consequences. When everything else was so life-threateningly serious, fighting over some jewelweed in the apothecary was the exact level of stupid that he needed. "That's funny...my mother once said I was her best boy, but my father was shouting at me that I was a fucking waste of space so I guess you've met them somewhere in the middle," he said, head tilted slightly to the side. "Maybe someone should tell you to be polite. You're quite rude, actually."

A dry laugh tore from his throat and he raised his eyebrows in her direction, more than amused at the idea of his parents being any help in this situation. "Oh, I don't need mummy's help any more. I can fight my own battles," he sneered. His advice had been well intended, though he knew it wouldn't land well. "I shall keep my unsolicited advice to myself next time," he said, elbowing her as she shoved past him. Turning back to the shelf, Reg began shovelling random vials into his basket, as many as he could.

Wait her turn politely? Was he fucking serious? They weren't at Hogwarts. And even if they were she would have no problem telling him where to shove it. “You’re a right pain in the ass, you know that I’m sure. Can’t be the first one to mention it.” She took a beat. “I don’t need anyone telling me to be polite.” It wasn’t in her genes.

Georgette had to fight for survival and no one was going to take that away from her, especially not some squirrely little chump with obvious privilege. "Maybe you should run and tell mum and dad on me for being a bitch."

Her face burned. "I know how to take care of myself. I don't need to go to St. Mungo's. This isn't the first time, nor will it be the last, that I take care of my hands myself. I don't need some little know it all giving me his unsolicited advice. Thanks." She pushed near him to look at the vials not giving two shits about invading his personal space.

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?"

Being an auror meant working unusual and irregular hours and days, and Kingsley wouldn’t change it for a thing. Much of his spare time was now filled with Order business, but he was determined that at least once a week he would try and see his sister and his nephew. The war was important, but not so important that he would toss his family aside for it. His battle injury that had left him near to death had solidified that importance – and it was that injury that made him so scared of Sade increasing her involvement. Kingsley had never truly struggled for words, but he wasn’t sure how to express to his sister how scared he was of losing her to the Death Eaters. And what would happen to Jasper without his mother?

Shooting his sister a sheepish smile at her surprise, Kingsley threw himself down onto the couch with a heavy sigh. “I’ll knock more than once next time, sorry. I probably should’ve sent an owl too,” he said, kicking his shoes off to make himself comfortable. “Not so urgent that I can’t wait for the kettle. I’d be glad of a cup of tea, I don’t mind making it if you want to stay sat down.”

A long day rounded up with a seamless bedtime for Jasper and a cup of tea had become the norm for Sade in recent months. While other twenty-seven year olds were thankful for a wild night, Sade's evenings were made with a book and a warm beverage. Evidently, her intention to be a bit more independent as Jasper grew had faltered slightly, but Sade wouldn't change it for the world. Sade was just about to embark on a new chapter, to engrossed in her book to notice a brief knock at the door. Sade jumped slightly in surprise as her brother made his way into her living room.

"Merlin, Kings." Sade exclaimed in surprise, although her tone remained quiet. "Unexpected visits are always welcome, but perhaps a louder knock next time." She teased, setting her book down on her coffee table. "Too urgent for a cup of tea? Or can it wait until the kettle brews?"

Reg's shoulders tensed at Alecto's expression, almost curling in on himself to prepare for the agony that he felt was incoming. It wouldn't be the first time someone he liked and trusted had used the cruciatus on him, nor would it be the last. The pain didn't come though, and slowly the tension left his muscles. Nodding at her word of caution, Reg shot her a small grin - one of fondness, not of teasing. "Lesson learned. Don't poke the bear."

"I think if you were to turn me into some sort of other creature that might please my parents more than the person I am currently," he muttered, bitterness seeping into his tone. "I wouldn't mind tea if the elves can prepare a pot."

Her eyes narrow at him when he starts to mimic knitting, tempted to send a wave of pain throughout his body in warning, letting the thought fade when he lifted his hands up in surrender. He was family in a sense and wished to keep the little of the Black's that were left, close. "I am going to let you speak, be wise what you say." Her hand waves to remove the spell.

"I am not in the mood for trying my patience. Let's have a visit that won't have you turned into a vile creature." That was pregnant Alecto being nice. "Did you wish for something to drink?"

Much of the war was still being conducted in shadow. The Dark Lord had not made a grand claim for power yet, he hadn't grasped at the ministry - those things would come. The fact that the Dark Lord wanted to keep his true plans hidden for now didn't change the fact that people were being cut down on battlefields, that people had life changing injuries, and families were being shattered in the process. It was war in every way, and it was growing worse with each passing day. As Caradoc fell silent, Regulus picked his wand up again and continued patching up his boyfriend as best as he could. He wasn't an outstanding healer, but it would do for now.

"You did what you had to in the heat of battle. When faced with opponents who will use the killing curse without thought, sometimes stunners simply won't work. They may not be able to find out. He does have a daughter," Reg nodded in confirmation. "But if there weren't witnesses, they may not be able to figure it out." He froze at Caradoc's pleading, and he was torn. He wanted to protect Caradoc, but he knew that it was putting himself at unnecessary risk. "...I promise," he said after a beat of silence. "But if they come for you, I will fight on your side. I want you to know that. If it means breaking my cover early...we'll just have to deal with it."

“This is war.”

For some reason, those words of Regulus’s rang in his ears. Memories of his father teaching him about all of Britain’s wars, but mainly World War I and World War II, in the hot summer air, flashed through his mind. Stories of fallen soldiers, the looks on his parents faces when he solemnly told them about the war in the Wizarding World and the danger muggle-borns and muggles were in. Instead of understanding him, accepting him like he thought they finally might, they just held Caradoc’s younger siblings tighter and told him that if he wasn’t going to give up a life of magic, he could leave. They didn’t express any concern at all for their eldest son or the position he was in.

“I killed a Death Eater,” he repeated, a little louder this time as he had to repeat it to believe it. “The Death Eaters will find out and they will want to know who did it. He—he has a daughter, I think. I don’t know if she’s aligned with the Death Eaters or not. I should look into that . . . Somehow, I’m in even more danger than before. Reg, you have to promise me you won’t do anything risky. If you try to protect me, they’ll know you’ve betrayed them.” He looked at his boyfriend with pleading eyes. “I can’t lose you.”

"It's what?" Regulus said haughtily, tilting his head slightly in question. A smug smile of victory tugged at his lips as James disappeared, and he returned to browsing in peace. Said peace was quickly broken by the reappearance of Potter, and Regulus sighed deeply. "Oh...that would be a shame wouldn't it. How desperately do you need it?" Regulus asked, stepping a little closer to James as he narrowed his eyes before he turned back to the shelf. A wave of pettiness washed over him, and he began placing all of the vials of Jewelweed into his basket. "I'm brewing a lot of potions at the moment, you see," he said, with an air of nonchalance. "Maybe I'll buy up Diagon Alley's stock of pyjamas too, and then I'll start owling you a pair of pyjamas every day until you can hardly move for pyjamas."

"Regulus, that's ––-" James paused and looked at him for a moment. A hand went to ruffle his hair. "Alright, then. Whatever you want," he said, and, with a sigh, he slinked away. Inevitably, he returned moments later. "They said everything that's in stock is already out on the shelves. So if you want to buy everything here, which... I mean, you were here first. You're entitled to do so. But just know you'd be hoarding all the Jewelweed supply in London." All James heard was that he was on Regulus' mind. Why was that thought making his heart beat a little faster in his chest? He told himself to relax. "I assumed as much. We're in a potions shop, after all. Didn't think you were looking for a new pair of pyjamas."

For the second time in a week, Regulus found himself in the aurors office. An urgent summons had awaited him at his desk in the Department of Mysteries, instructing him to disregard whatever work he was currently undertaking and visit the aurors office at once. Whatever it was, Regulus had a sinking feeling that it couldn't be good. Casting his mind back over the last few weeks, he tried to figure out if there was anywhere that he may have slipped up and given away his allegiances but he was coming up blank. Summoning all of his mother's etiquette training, Regulus drew a deep breath and straightened his spine as he knocked on the office door. Waiting for the summons to enter, Regulus kept his expression clear of any fear that had settled in his chest. "Mr Bones, I am a very busy man. What is the reason for the summons?" @edgarebones