The Business Between Himself And Lupin Was Private Between The Two Of Them, Or So He Had Thought. Given

"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."

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

Reg leant his head gently against the top of Caradoc's, relaxing into the comfort and security he found when his boyfriend was near. "I won't tell you not to be scared. I'm terrified, more so now...and now I have someone other than just me to worry about. Whatever comes, we'll face it together...be it good, or bad," he said, trying to be strong for the both of them despite the anxiety that seemed to be constantly nestled within his soul. "I don't want any regrets either, or any 'what could have beens'. I love you, my dear. I love you and I'm choosing you over anything else."

Reg considered Caradoc's words before sighing. "The likelihood of them not being related to me is slim...all purebloods seem to be related in one way or another, it's just a matter of closeness. Come back here when you're done, we can debrief from it all. I might be able to help you identify some of the people you fight against, then you can pass the information to Edgar. For now, why don't we go upstairs? I'm exhausted, let's head to bed."

Fin.

“Yeah, I hope the tide changes too,” Caradoc murmured, leaning his head against Regulus’s shoulder. “But I’m scared. Even going home makes—makes me scared. Not a ton of people know me, I know that, but muggle-borns are getting captured and killed every day. I-I don’t want to die, Reg. I want to have a life with you. If something . . . If something ever happens to me, I just . . . I don’t want to have any regrets, you know? I don’t think I can fix things up with my parents, but I can have a relationship with you. And that’s what I want.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, trying to keep calm, trying not to think about all the horrors in their world right now. “I have another mission tomorrow—for the Order. Gonna try and get some Death Eater intel. Not exactly sure who we’re going after, but I don’t think it’s anyone related to you,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll get back from late.” And hopefully he wouldn’t need to visit St. Mungos, he thought to himself.

Reg shot Caradoc a disapproving look, reaching for his wand with his free hand. Under his breath he muttered the few basic diagnostic spells he knew, checking him over for his own peace of mind. "You should make sure you're checked out properly, especially when you're messing with curses. I'm no healer, but I think you're okay," he said, setting his wand back down on the side before he leaned over to press a kiss to Caradoc's temple.

Leaving the ball in Caradoc's court was making Regulus feel a little sick as he waited for a response, but he knew it was necessary. If it was too much, he didn't want to burden Caradoc with knowledge that may put him in further danger. He didn't want to lose Caradoc, who had become so dear to him so quickly, but he would rather lose him than put him at unnecessary risk if the other man wasn't willing. As Caradoc confirmed that he was all in, Reg took his hand, tangling their fingers tightly. "Thank you," he whispered gratefully.

"I'm not really sure where to start. Over the last few months, but particularly the last few weeks, I've grown more and more uncomfortable with my position in the war. I've kept it glamoured whenever I've seen you, but....well, it speaks for itself," Regulus brought their joined hands to his sleeve, drawing it back to reveal his Dark Mark. "I've been marked since I was sixteen. It's what was expected of me, especially when Sirius left. They got me in front of the Dark Lord as soon as they could, to establish me as a proper pureblood. But I have to admit....I've never been much good at it, and recently I've got so much worse. I was questioning things, questioning everything I've grown up believing."

"I guess I've always ached to be good enough, but I was trying to be good enough for the wrong people."

Caradoc closed his eyes for a moment, comforted by Regulus’s hand running through his hair. “Umm, I checked my head?” He said, knowing that that probably wasn’t the answer that Regulus was hoping for. He shrugged. He’d taken a potion to dull the pain, so that was good enough for him. It wasn’t supposed to wear off for about another hour.

He got more serious as Regulus continued to talk. He couldn’t lie, the words “life-threatening risk” did little to keep him calm. Caradoc tried to remind himself that technically, every Order member and every Ministry mission did put his life in jeopardy, so it wasn’t that different . . . Right? But, Caradoc had seen what Death Eaters had done to wizards who disagreed with them. He’d seen what they’d done to muggle-borns and muggles.

But this was what war was — taking risks. And Caradoc trusted Regulus. He trusted that deep down, Regulus didn’t align with his family’s twisted beliefs. He trusted that Regulus wanted a different life, hopefully a life they could build together.

“I don’t want out,” he said resolutely. “And I’m good at keeping secrets. You can tell me.”

"If you say so," Fenrir said, quite content to continue pushing Alecto's buttons. He had made his dislike for the woman quite clear, and yet she still seemed to keep coming back as he had made himself quite useful to the cause. "I think you'll find all is as it should be. Again, the Dark Lord himself seems quite pleased. Feel free to take your concerns to him, but you will find there is nothing to be concerned about," Fenrir said, knowing that there was nothing awry within his pack.

"The implication was that the cave would be in place of my home, that is my accusation. Point your finger elsewhere," he said, nose scrunched in distaste. "There is a difference between understanding family before and after you become a parent. I would do anything for my son, and that includes protecting the sanctity of this home. If you say you didn't mean it in that manner, then I will believe you - but heed my warning nonetheless."

Fenrir found it interesting that this visit did not seem to be on behalf of the Dark Lord, but her follow up words betrayed her intent. "Ah, I see. To be crude every man has a weakness which will render him useless for a while with one firm hit, though I assume you know this already," he paused, frowning slightly. "Angus has a wife, Elsie. He also has a particular mistress that he is fond of called Blair from within his pack that Elsie is unaware of. He also has nieces and nephews that I am led to believe he is quite precious about."

"Perhaps this is where we agree to disagree, hm?" The last thing Alecto wanted to do was to continue on this useless banter, though she could, pleasing her greatly, however, there were other matters at hand. "I do not question, Fenrir, I do wish to make sure all is what it should be." If he thought that would push her, it did not, forever dedicated to the cause.

"I never said anything about touching your home, Fenrir. I would watch what accusations you make." She pointed sternly at him. "All I said, was a cave could be ready if you wished." Alecto had no desire to cause rift, but she would not be baited into a corner. The witch was already protective of the little ones growing inside of her. "I know the importance of family."

"I do not wish to dispose of him. The Dark Lord wishes for his service." Did she want to blackmail him? "Perhaps I need to know a weakness, if he decides to let his hands wander again."

Knowing that Pandora got truly stuck into her work, Fenrir wondered if there was some benefit to teaching her some additional warding magic. He was sure that her older brother would've taught her well, if her parents hadn't, but the fact he had stumbled across her entirely unprotected...well. Pandora wouldn't turn her nose up at his dirty magic the way that the other pure-bloods did, who would brush off his offer due to his blood and his lack of magical education - as if attending Hogwarts made some of them any better than he.

"Oh darling, I know you like wild beasts," Fenrir murmured lowly, his gaze lazily resting on the woman. "Is that a command, or a request? And will this be business, or pleasure?" he said, attention turning to the object she'd been working on. Fen let Dora pull him closer, noting the look in her eyes that told him she was still focused on magic. "Is there anything I can do to help finish it off?"

Amber hues pulled away from the clock placed on the stone, that looked more like a table, to the direction of Fenrir who was closing the distance between them. That is when she realised that she had not set up her wards to warn her of others close by. She had been too eager to further replicate what happened earlier. That was a mishap on her side.

"Perhaps I like wild." The corners of her mouth turn into a coy smirk. The lack of fear that consumed Pandora would concern others, but for herself, she embraced it to her advantage. "Then you will be mine for the night." She was eager to see if she could get the same reaction she did with Bellatrix with the spells she had manipulated, already twisting the threads to strengthen the new spell. Absentmindedly the witch bridges the gap and reaches for his hand to pull him over to the object. "I wish you could see what I do. It was so close to working earlier. I need this to work. "

— unknown

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."

At Pandora's murmured words, Fenrir thought that summed them up. They were a pair of unusual people, who found peace amongst nature and were somewhat different to their peers. It was a stray encounter in the woods that had brought them together, and they had been colliding ever since. Humming a small noise of affirmation at the possession in her tone, a small smile tugged at his lips before it disappeared again. There weren't many witches bold enough to try and tame him, never mind asserting her possession of him - even if just for an evening.

"I'm a selfish man. I know what I want, and I take it," he whispered against her soft skin, nipping ever so gently before he kissed her again. A small growl of discontent sounded in his throat as she reminded him that there were still things to do before he could indulge, and he pulled back slightly otherwise he would lose himself in the witch in front of him. "I will hold that promise as seriously as if we had made an unbreakable vow."

If he'd thought for a moment, he should have separated them so that Pandora wouldn't be entirely caught in his hold while he was paralysed. If something went wrong, she would need to be able to undo it. Fenrir himself wasn't entirely sure what his darkest secret could be, but he felt a pressure in his throat almost like sickness threatening to come out. He couldn't move, couldn't relieve the pressure in any way other than to open his mouth and talk. "I killed my father when I was fifteen, and I have not regretted it once. His body is somewhere in the Scottish highlands, nobody has tried to look for him."

Almost as quickly as his muscles had seized up, he began to relax again and he let go of the clock. Quirking his eyebrow in interest, Fenrir considered the words he had just spoken. "I haven't spoken of my father for over a decade."

The fact that Pandora felt the same about Fenrir should have set sirens off in her head, warning her that this could only end in disaster, but for the first time, in her life, she felt seen. The witch grew up around pureblood standards, but felt she slipped through the cracks with the way she saw the world and the hobbies that intrigued her. Her parents concerned laid on her brother, in search of the perfect pureblood witch to marry him to. "Here I am, continuing to find my way into the woods and into your arms." She was determined to live in the moment and worry about nothing more. "I will take that, you being mine for tonight." A satisfied tone in her words. More meaning behind it than she had realised.

"You never do play fair." A soft whisper rolling from her tongue. The more time they spent together, the more she found it hard to resist his charm, and seductive ways, and at times she didn't want to. "I promise, once we finish, you can have me in all the ways you do," she stated, a promise she would keep.

Pandora would prove that she was worth him trusting her, knowing her actions would be more what he needed from her than her words. Her kind were surely look down at him, convinced they did now, but he she knew from what her brother would talk about, was that they were important allies for the cause. A sigh spilled free when he returned the kiss, eyes sparkling with excitement when he agreed to hold the clock for her.

She was not expecting him to do so right away, caught between his arms and the clock, she cared only for his reaction than the object. He would feel his muscles begin to lock into place, a sudden desire building up at the back of this throat, a need to express his darkest secret, and he would not be free from his paralysed shackles until he spoke his truth aloud.

Sometimes, Fenrir wondered how simple and foolish wizards had to be to miss the signs of a werewolf that were right under their nose. He knew that Remus Lupin tried to keep his condition under wraps, to live a normal life - as if he could ever be normal whilst resisting his true nature, his true self. Yet it was plainly obvious to Fenrir that the other man was a wolf, suffering with the after effects of the full moon. How the younger man had made it through seven years worth of schooling and now several years of adult life without his condition being realised, Fenrir was not quite certain.

It bolstered him though, knowing that he could continue growing his pack, and the wider population of werewolves without too much ministry attention falling on his head. If they could hardly see what was plainly at the end of their noses, then they would not see what happened in the Scottish highlands, or the New Forest. Before they knew it, Voldemort would be the least of their concerns.

Remus' refusal to look at him riled Fenrir, but he continued to keep his hand firmly on the other man's shoulder. "That's a shame. It's not meant to be difficult, Remus. It's a beautiful thing, what we are. We are the supreme species...we should love the moon, not fear it."

The full moon always took its toll on Remus. He had been through numerous months of the struggle but still had difficulty. He couldn't get over the fact that he was a werewolf. It had destroyed who he felt he was -- or who he should be. Life would have been so much easier if Fenrir had never changed him. It wasn't fair that the young child had been afflicted because of his father's actions. Little Lupin did nothing to deserve it. With being five years old when he was changed, one would think he would be used to it but he always felt the pain, both physical and mental. It was terrifying each month.

The days following the full moon left Remus feeling unlike himself as he was still healing but it didn't stop him from going to the bookstore. At least he had an easy job. It was one where he could relax among the books and the most help he had to do was talk books. And he had to organize, dust and just keep the store in order. He was able to do such tasks while reading in between.

However, on this very day Remus was going to open Flourish and Blott's when a hand reached his shoulder and a familiar voice chilled through his bones. Fenrir Greyback. "Difficult night. Yeah," he responded not turning around.