At The Woman's Suggestion, Fenrir Considered It For A Moment. "Gruyere Is An Incredible Suggestion. I

If he wasn't in such a shitty mood, the way that James' expression flickered and changed as Regulus sent empty sparks his way might have sent guilt clanging through his chest. One day, James' seemingly endless patience for Regulus and his bullshit would run out - hell, maybe Regulus had just driven the final dagger into whatever was left of what they'd been. Letting his wand drop down to the table with a clatter, Regulus slumped back into the chair as if hit with a wave of physical exhaustion. "Sirius will know. He doesn't yet. We wanted to get the protection in place first. I have spoken to Andromeda about my recent thoughts, and some other...developments. But I couldn't...I was..." Reg stammered over his words, nose scrunching in discomfort. "I'm scared to tell him, I guess. Scared of what he might think," whenever he was in the presence of his brother, he felt like a small terrified kid year old all over again watching everything slip between his useless fingers. "Maybe, one day."

Regulus didn't want to hand blame to those who had left him, but in his brain, there was a clear correlation between his cousin and his brother leaving, and the intense pressure that suddenly came stamping down on his shoulders. There was never a chance for him to do anything else, there was only one option. Almost instinctively, Regulus' hand came up to itch the skin where his Dark Mark lay, nails digging in slightly as if he could rip it off. "All I've ever wanted to do was be a good son, a good brother, good enough. And somehow I've managed to be a terrible son, a terrible brother, a terrible Death Eater. I'm not good at any of it. But maybe I can be good enough that I don't get caught. Maybe...just maybe I can tip the scales a little bit. I've already given Edgar information on some planned raids, and some names of those within the muggle government under the imperius. I'll do what I can whilst I can. I'm not sure it will be enough, but it's better than nothing," he said, a small frown knitted between his brows. "I don't think the Order is doing enough, James. I'm giving the Order information because it's the best option we have, but I don't believe that your Order can make much of a difference. Not yet, anyway. I know that everyone seems to have boundless optimism in the power of good, but...I'm not sure it's enough. You don't know the sort of power you're fighting against, the depth of the ideologies...it's impossibly dark," he breathed, before his gaze shot up to meet James'. "That makes two of us. This war is eating at me, and I fear that even if I make it to the end, there will be nothing of me left. But you're right. If it means that the Dark Lord isn't in power at the end of it all, it's worth it...right?"

"I've never been enough, James. Everybody I've ever known has wanted me to be someone else, to be something else. Nobody has ever really wanted just plain old Regulus, with his ugly feelings and his messy fears, not until recently," Regulus' voice was small and weak, betraying all of his deepest feelings about himself. "It's been a slow process, I think. There isn't one specific thing that changed my mind. My heart was never in it, not the way that my family wanted it to be. I was doing it because it was the right thing, the thing to make my family proud. I'm not devoted, I'm not skilled at the Dark Arts. The first time I crucioed someone I went home and vomited until I passed out. The pressure from my family...it's suffocating me, and I was starting to panic in the field. It just wasn't feeling right any more, I couldn't in good conscience go out and fight that cause any more."

"And....I met someone. Someone that I really like that is on on your side, someone who's a muggle-born. And I started to realise that his blood status doesn't matter to me at all, and then I looked at myself and thought...what the fuck are you doing, Reg?"

His wand aimed directly at his forehead, James' hazel eyes, dilated in dim light and emotion, never left the grey of Regulus'. He won't do it. He wouldn't, he thought. A light flashed from the tip of the wood and, just for a moment, he considered the possibility he might have been wrong. What that would mean. His brows furrowed. In the split-second before he was obliviated, James' last thought was that he forgave him. Regulus could do just about anything and James would probably forgive him – without being prompted, without being asked, without even knowing if there was anything to really forgive. A moment later, he blinked, and here he still was. "Does Sirius know?" Lingering awkwardness from that surge of feeling cracked his voice as he spoke. "About this whole double-agent thing? I was told not to tell anyone, but I think he should know." James shrugged. "I'm glad he's getting a laugh out of it." He'd only ever heard good things about Uncle Alphard. "It probably is funny, I guess. I'm sure in ten years we'll laugh about it, too."

James listened quietly, guilt clawing at him from inside his gut as he chewed on his bottom lip. It's not your fault, he reminded himself. It's not your fault, it's not your fault, it's not your fault. But it was. Taking Sirius away from his family was effectively signing Regulus' prison sentence. Before the two had become close, he had never thought about Sirius running away like that, but after, it was all he could think about. "I don't really know what to say," James said honestly, at last. "It's such a shitty hand that you've been dealt. I'm not going to pretend like this doesn't change everything, because it does." He, however, was nothing if not optimistic. "But hopefully, it'll change everything for the better. That's all each of us is trying to do, right?" A far cry from the effortless confidence he exuded when asked by anyone else about the war, James felt he could be vulnerable around Regulus. He had no expectations of him, unlike everyone else, and so he didn't feel the need to play the part he normally did. "I've always had the feeling I wasn't going to make it out alive," he said suddenly. He had never said that out loud. "At least we'll die doing the right thing."

"You are enough. You're doing wonderfully. Give yourself some grace." He nodded, relief surging through him. "Okay." A question, however, had been eating him alive, from the inside out. It reared its ugly face now. "What made you ... y'know. Switch sides?" At the end of the day, although they liked to put it down to Sirius, it was their opposing ideologies that had driven them apart. The dark mark had been the final, physical nail in the coffin that they couldn't ignore – the step they both knew that, once Regulus took, James couldn't follow after.

The summons to the auror office was of little concern to Regulus, who would quite happily shift the blame of whatever Black artefact had been found causing trouble onto his father. Regulus was extremely careful when out on missions - removing any and all personal possessions that may identify him if left behind other than his wand. Whatever the aurors believed they had found would be nothing to do with him - in fact, he'd be surprised if this wasn't more of a box-ticking exercise by the aurors to try and prove to the ministry that they were investigating something. Rounding the corner towards the meeting room he had been summoned to, Regulus stopped dead in his tracks at the familiar mess of black hair in front of him. "Sirius. What are you....why are you here?" @siriusbpadfoot

If it were anyone other than Alecto, the silence in return to his owl may have irritated Regulus. He was nothing if not meticulous with his life and his plans - he liked to have every minute of his day planned down to the second, and being left guessing whether his friend would appear at all didn't slot in with a well planned evening, yet Regulus could never truly be annoyed by Alecto. If he'd timed it better, he might've been able to get food on the table before Alecto appeared so she would have no reason to suspect it was made by anyone other than an elf. For now, all he could do was back track slightly. There were a few people who knew of Regulus' preference for muggle cooking, and he wasn't sure that Alecto wouldn't take that knowledge straight to his parents...or worse. Any hint of muggle sympathy was a risk these days, even if it was merely cooking. "Kreacher was here, he made the dinner but had to return to Grimmauld to prepare food for my parents...I'm only getting it out of the oven," he shrugged, grateful that he had cleaned up the rest of the dishes as he went along. "I'm glad I don't have to replace my owl. I was afraid that he was losing letters halfway along his journey."

Alecto had received an owl from Regulus, contemplating whether she should attend or not. No message would be returned, leaving the wizard in a state of guessing on if she would attend or not. It was with Rabastan busy with work that would keep him later than expected, that she decided that she would make the visit over to the youngest Black. Growing up together, he had been one that she was rather fond of, even more so with the departure of Sirius and Andromeda, knowing that it was important to keep him with on the right side of the cause. She would never admit her soft spot for him. Her nose wrinkled when he mentioned the kitchen, making her inside to witness his muggle ways. "Regulus," biting back a remark. "You did not have to do this for me." She would be more pleased to see the house elf doing the work.

“if you could only see the beast you made of me"

(cw: death, discussion of injury)

𝖇 𝖆 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈

NAME: Fenrir Ulrik Greyback NICKNAMES: Fen AGE: 34 GENDER: Cis Male PRONOUNS: He/Him

𝖋 𝖆 𝖒 𝖎 𝖑 𝖞

MOTHER: Freya Greyback nee Macnair FATHER: Anders Greyback SIBLINGS: n/a

CHILDREN: Magnus Greyback

𝖕 𝖍 𝖞 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈 𝖆 𝖑 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖊𝖘

FACE CLAIM: Aaron Taylor-Johnson BUILD: Tall, stocky, particularly hairy. HAIR COLOR: Dark brown. EYE COLOR: Deep blue. DOMINANT HAND: Right. ANOMALIES: Scarring on his neck from the werewolf bite, scars on his back and his arms from claws. FASHION: Generally a bit thrown together, with clothes that are a bit patchy. NERVOUS TICS: Fenrir does not get nervous.

𝖑 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 𝖘 𝖙 𝖞 𝖑 𝖊

RESIDES: A countryside cottage in the Cotswolds, backing onto acres of woodland BORN:  Greyback family home, Norway RAISED:  Greyback family home, Norway PETS: n/a.

CAREER: Chef EMPLOYER: The White Wyvern POLITICAL AFFILIATION: Unmarked Death Eater

DRUGS: Occasionally. SMOKES: Occasionally. ALCOHOL: Fenrir likes a deep red wine, or a smokey whiskey. DIET: Red meat heavy, usually on the rarer side.

LANGUAGES: English, Norwegian.

𝖒 𝖆 𝖌 𝖎 𝖈

ALUMNI HOUSE: Home-schooled. WAND (length, flexibility, wood, & core): 13 and one quarter inches, Elm wood, unicorn tail hair core, flexible. PATRONUS: Unable to cast. BOGGART: A version of himself that is not a werewolf, a weaker being.

BIO:

Fenrir Ulrik Greyback was born in Norway to Anders and Freya Greyback, where he resided for the early years of his life. As a child, he was curious and inquisitive and spent a lot of time outside. He loved exploring the natural world, and particularly enjoyed nights when the auroras were strong and his mother would get him bundled into a snowsuit and take him out for a walk to experience the lights. His parents were wizards, but this was a natural magic and he found it fascinating. It was one such evening where a full moon shone amongst the auroras, and neither Fenrir or Freya heard the noise of a werewolf approaching them before the beast was already upon them. It attacked Fenrir first, sinking large teeth into his neck with claws shredding at his skin. He doesn’t remember anything beyond that until he woke up in the hospital with his father by his side, looking older than he ever had before. His mother was gone, having died being attacked whilst trying to pull the werewolf away from Fenrir.

Family life was never quite the same again. With Freya gone, all joy seemed to be sapped from Anders. Fenrir’s life shrunk to being home-schooled by Anders who was terrified that his son’s condition would get out if he was sent to a proper school, and the whole family would be shunned. His father stopped talking to others about Fenrir’s existence immediately, and though Fenrir never realised, he had modified the healers memories so they believed he had died with Freya. Anders told Fenrir that his condition was something to be ashamed of, something to dread. Gradually, Fenrir began to resent his treatment. Each full moon bought a newer bitterness, and as he grew up, his wolfish side began to grow stronger. As a pup, he’d found enough room to roam around the cellar that he was locked in – but with each passing month, and each passing year, he longed to be free at the full moon.

When Fenrir was fifteen, the pair relocated to Scotland where Anders was due to take up a ministry job. On the first full moon since they moved, Fenrir broke free from his bonds and killed his father. When he awoke the following morning, he was several miles away from their home in a forest, and another man was standing over him. The other man was in a similar state to Fenrir, skin torn and grey, and he offered Fenrir a hand of friendship. It was the first time he’d met another werewolf in their human form, and life was then forever changed. For the next few years, Fenrir hardly touched his wand at all. Fenrir’s disappearance from public life in Norway had done him favours, and nobody knew Fenrir had entered Britain with his father. A quick trip home to gather his belongings and transfigure his father’s body into a stick with the guidance of the older wizard, and Fenrir finally found a pack of werewolves to call family. What the ministry made of Anders disappearance, Fenrir neither knew nor cared.

For the next few years, Fenrir hardly touched his wand at all. He grew into a fully fledged werewolf, unashamed of his condition. With each passing month his power grew, and so did his thirst for blood. No longer was his father holding him back, and instead he had a pack that encouraged him to embrace his true nature. At seventeen years old, Fenrir had risen in importance amongst their pack and he had started to gain a reputation for himself as a vicious, blood-thirsty beast. He got confident and cocky in his own abilities as a beast, until he murdered two muggle children and was brought before the Ministry of Magic for questioning the following morning.

Relying on his Norwegian upbringing, and the fact he had not attended Hogwarts as a child, Fenrir played dumb. He feigned ignorance of the English language and asked the ministry workers to repeat their questions many times until he understood. His wand had been left at home because of the full moon so there was no evidence that he was a magical being, and he pretended that he had did not know of the existence of wizards. One ministry member, Lyall Lupin, identified the tell-tale scars on Fenrir's neck and tried insisting that he be held until the full moon to see if he transformed, but the rest of the ministry committee did not see value in this to Fenrir's delight. As they were releasing Fenrir, Lyall had spat that Fenrir, and all werewolves, were soulless, evil and deserving of nothing but death. Fenrir hid his rage, but vowed revenge on the man for his prejudice.

Biding his time, Fenrir spent a few months quietly watching Lyall Lupin until he discovered where the other man lived. Then it was simply a matter of waiting for the right time until he attacked the young Remus Lupin, biting him deeply to ensure that he became infected with lycanthropy. Lyall arrived quickly enough, but still too late. The deed was done - Remus had been intentionally infected, and it gave Fenrir a taste of what was to come.

In the following years, Fenrir carefully started to integrate himself into wizarding society. Fenrir works as a chef at the White Wyvern, a position that suits him well. His employers don't question Fenrir dictating his working hours around the full moon, and working in a kitchen means that he doesn't have to be seen by anyone other than his co-workers. He has started actively practicing magic again, particularly the dark arts, though he still prefers to rely on his natural brawny strength in a fight than his magical ability.

As the tension continues to build for the war, Fenrir has found a place amongst the Death Eaters, where he is more than happy to do their dirty work as long as it gives him access to further potential victims. Voldemort's refusal to offer Fenrir the dark mark has rubbed Fenrir the wrong way, and he sees the way the other Death Eaters look at him as lesser yet he bides his time. He has continued to rise amongst his pack, eventually killing his former mentor and taking his place as the leader of the pack. Their mission is to infect as many humans as possible, with the dream of creating a werewolf army that could eventually challenge wizards for dominance in society.

Whilst bringing more wolves into the pack that Fenrir leads, he grew close to a half-blood werewolf named Nancy Edwards. The pair were together for several years, and as the result of a few drunken, reckless nights, they had a son together called Magnus. Fenrir and Nancy are no longer together romantically, but they are amicably raising Magnus together. Magnus is also a werewolf, having inherited the condition by virtue of both of his parents being true lycanthropes. Fenrir is proud of his now five year old son, and is raising him with virtues that he believes will make him a strong future leader of a pack.

Regulus didn't want to feel this seemingly unending bitterness towards his brother. He didn't want to poke and prod at Sirius, not when he still secretly wanted his older brother's approval - though he knew he would never truly receive it. It seemed that no matter what he did, he would never make anyone happy - including himself. Sirius' silence would've concerned Regulus another time, and he was sure that when he returned home he would dwell on what it all meant, but for now Reg chose to sit in the awkwardness of the atmosphere between them. "And why would I have more run ins with the auror, brother? What are you accusing me of?" Regulus challenged, his gaze stony and hard.

"And take the rest of the family history with it? It's our story, Sirius, whether you like it or not," Reg shrugged. He wasn't liking it so much these days, but he still found the history on the tapestry interesting. He wondered how many of their ancestors had doubts like he did, buried deep inside. "If you're insistent that you aren't going to take it, there's little point in you being here and waiting for the aurors to deem us worthy of their time. You might as well go," he suggested, hoping to rid himself of this awkwardness.

Sirius was glad to be facing away as his brother spoke, a frown falling onto his face before he could control his expression. It seemed impossible that he had always been such a failure, a remarkable disappointment to his parents, and yet somehow they'd been using him as a bar to reach to. He felt guilt twist in his stomach despite all the years he'd spent trying to convince himself that his parents' behaviors were no fault of his own. It was harder to keep that belief up when he heard the bitterness in Regulus's tone. He was silent a beat too long, completely unsure what to say, and Regulus filled the silence with talk of the aurors. "I don't know," he shrugged, happy to move onto a new subject. "I'm sure you have a lot more run ins with them than I do." Working in the pub and keeping a relatively straight life meant most of his run ins with aurors were just them picking up people who were drunk and dangerous.

"She should have burned it down," he muttered, frowning to himself. Sirius was almost surprised the tapestry was still standing, sure it must just be a constant reminder of all the disappointments the Black family was starting to gather; his betrayal just the most recent. "Maybe it has both of our names on it or something," he sighed, lolling back in the chair again. "Or someone died and left us something." Though he couldn't think of many family members who would leave them both something. Just as he thought it the door swung open and Sirius went back to lolling lazily in the chair - the perfect image of unbothered.

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?"

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.

As Andromeda flinched, Regulus frowned deeply. He hadn't meant for her to feel bad, but he hadn't considered the way his words would land with her. "No, I didn't mean to....shit, I've fucked this up," he said, placing his head in his hands for a moment. He'd just wanted to talk to someone that would understand, he hadn't wanted to leave her with guilt. "You did what you had to do, what was best for you. That's what I want to do now...I want to do something for me for once," he said, his voice small but strong. "You know Bella...her care manifests intensely. She was doing what she thought was right, she just pushed too far. She was caring in her own way," he said, grimacing as he thought back on the disaster that had been his recent teatime with Bella. "She asked me to perform unforgivables on her recently so that I could demonstrate my aptitude. I was disappointing. I'm a stain on the family name, and I haven't even betrayed anyone yet."

Andromeda's hand in his was a comfort he hadn't known in years - the warmth of family who expected nothing from him other than to be himself. "I will bring more shame to them than you or Sirius ever did. They had me in their claws, and I've slipped away. It will haunt my parents for the rest of their miserable lives," Regulus said sharply. A small laugh left him at her optimism that nobody would kill him. He knew he would be hunted for the rest of his life once he turned, he knew he was a man with an expiration date. "I don't trust the Order not to fuck this up. I've seen them on the other side of a battlefield...they can't manage their own soldiers, never mind this. And I don't want to drag you and Ted into something that could explode with our family, not when you have Nymphadora to think about. You have more important things than me, I just wanted to talk it out...I'll figure something out, I'm sure," he said, though he wasn't sure exactly how that would happen. "I can't do it any more. I'm not sure what it looks like, but I can't fight for the Dark Lord any more."

Reg reached for his cup of tea to take a long sip as Andromeda talked. He laughed at her joke, raising his eyebrow in her direction with a grin. "We've been seeing each other for a few months now. It's still new and exciting, but it feels different. It feels like it could be permanent, maybe, if we can navigate through all of this. Yes, of course, I'd love that."

Andromeda couldn’t help but flinch at his words, at the reminder that she and Sirius had both played some part in this. It made her heart ache to know that because of her he’d gone through more than she could possibly imagine. It wasn’t fair to him. “Regulus I’m so sorry.” She breathed, shaking her head. “I never meant for me leaving to be a punishment for any of you.” She could only imagine how Bellatrix had been, she’d never been the easiest even growing up. “What did Bella do?” She was afraid to know but at the same time felt she had to know. For her sister to be cruel to Regulus, the thought alone infuriated her. She expected it from their parents, but for her sister to do so? It was unforgivable.

She shook her head as he called himself an embarrassment, once more taking his hand in attempt to comfort the both of them. “You are not an embarrassment Reg, you are doing the right thing. Just because our family made their choices doesn’t mean we have to make the same ones. It’s time for us to choose our own paths, decide what is right for us. We will figure it out, we will make sure you’re safe. No one is going to kill you.” She was quiet for a moment as she thought. “We could go to the order, if you tell the truth I’m sure there is something they would do to help. You could help. Or Ted is an auror, I’m sure we could discuss it with him, figure out the best course of action.” She stopped once more, shaking her head as he admitted he had a panic attack. “It’s not too late Reg, you can leave that life. We will figure it out, I promise I’m not going anywhere and I will help however I can.”

Her lips quirked up as she saw the fond way he thought of the guy he was seeing. “As long as you’re happy then I’m glad. Ted was much the same way, I mean have you seen that man? His blood was the last thing I was thinking about.” She joked. “I’d love to meet him though, if you wanted me to of course.”

"There's a small dash of mustard in there too, and some nutmeg," he said. He may work in a pub kitchen, he may be looked down upon within society, but he saw no reason to serve shit food. He kept his employers happy, and they continued to turn a blind eye to the days off that he requested each month like clockwork. "I find that the two work very well together. Just the right balance of each, and some finely sliced potatoes and...voila, or whatever the French say."

"Oh cheddar and parmesan together is a great idea. Usually people shy away from combining two stronger flavor profiles but I do find that they compliment each other well."

"But I've been so cruel to you. We've been so cruel to you, and to...Ted, never mind little Nymphadora. I wouldn't have blamed you at all if you'd said no, and left me to it," Regulus said, a slight wobble to his voice that he tried to pass off with a cough. "I'm glad I did too," he said with a small smile. "Just to set you at ease, this house is very strongly warded. Nobody can apparate or floo inside without a warning first, so if another of our relatives were to appear you would get enough warning to be able to disappear quickly. Nobody really visits me though, I wouldn't worry too much," he shrugged. He liked it that way - it kept his home private and comfortable, and he was more than happy to put in plenty of appearances at his parents house or his other cousins' various manors if it kept them away from his place.

Letting Andromeda take his hand, Reg squeezed back, desperate for the comfort that was being offered. He was silent for a moment, trying to find the right words to voice everything that had been going on. "I...don't think I'm on the right side any more," he gasped out eventually, the words tripping from his lips. "Merlin, I'm absolutely shit at it. I'm probably the worst Death Eater out there. But my ability, or lack thereof, has nothing to do with this. I just...y'know when something's just not sitting right, like in here," he said, gesturing to his chest. "But I'm marked, they made sure of that as soon as Sirius left. I'm just his replacement, the spare...and I'm fucking awful at everything, and the torture makes me sick...and I just....I don't know what to do."

Regulus let the words hang in the air for a moment, before figuring that he had already gone in with secrets that would kill him if she ever told anyone. "And...I've been seeing someone for a few months now. He's lovely. He's muggle-born."

“We’re family. I’ll always be here.” To her that meant regardless of the past, she would always be there for them. They may have wanted nothing to do with her after the choices she’d made, but it changed nothing for her. “And I’m glad you did reach out.” She made her way over to the couch and sat down, observing her surroundings as she waited for Regulus to return. It was so quiet, she only hoped there wouldn’t be any surprise guests while she was here. She knew how the Black family could be when it came to privacy after all. As he returned, her attention went to him. There was no missing the dark shadows beneath his eyes, he looked exhausted. Haunted perhaps would have been a more apt description, leaving her concerned for his well-being.

Without thought, her hand reached for his, an attempt to reassure and comfort him. “You know whatever’s going on that you can talk to me Reg.” Her eyes searched his, trying to understand what might be going on in that brain of his. “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”