"Was It A Particularly Exciting Vacation? If It Was For Your Birthday, Please Tell Me It Was Somewhere

REGULUS BLACK

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?"

Deciding that by now neither of them was going to leave in a fury, Regulus finally threw himself back down into the chair he'd occupied before James' entrance. Reaching for the bottle again, Regulus took one last swig before he banished the bottle. With narrowed eyes, Reg pointed his wand at James' head before letting harmless sparks flash from the end. "If I obliviated you, Sirius would kill me. I don't need to give another relative a reason to murder me," he muttered, falling back on his brother as if that was the only reason why he didn't want to physically harm James Potter - even after everything. With curious gaze, Regulus saw the way that his words seemed to land and he cursed his big mouth for speaking before he'd thought it through. Still, it hurt. The situation was a nightmare, and no amount of Regulus pulling his punches would change that. "I reckon its my Uncle Alphard. He would think this was bloody funny," Regulus chose not to acknowledge James saying he deserved it. Maybe he did...but hadn't he suffered enough already?

Regulus crossed his arms to hide the shaking of his hands, shrinking back into the chair further. "You know who I'm disappointing James. You...you took my brother in when he left us, and it was me that was left to pick up the pieces, me that was left with the violent fall out, me that had to shoulder the responsibilities - the last male heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black. I think it will be worse this time, when it all comes out. Sirius and Andromeda was bad enough, shameful even, but for them to lose me when they had me marked and fighting for their side? It's unforgivable. They're my family, and I love them. I still love them, I will love every single one of them until the day that this war kills me. This choice will kill me, it's just a matter of...I don't know, trying to give your Order an edge before it does. I don't hold any false pretences about a life after the war is over...I'm not even sure I'll make it to the end of the war."

Taking a deep breath as James spoke, Regulus couldn't hold his gaze as he spoke of courage and bravery. Reg wasn't sure he had a single ounce of bravery in his body, not really. He was tired of his whole life feeling like a struggle. "I'm tired, James. I'm tired of feeling like I'm never enough, that I'm not good enough for anything, that I don't live up to expectations. This war has broken me in half, and I'm not sure there's much left to piece back together. But I will do my best, for as long as I can. And if by some miracle I'm still alive when the war ends...well, I'll figure out how to live, I suppose," he breathed. "I'll let you. It's easier, I suppose, having someone who knows how I can be. Less awkward than someone new trying to figure me out."

James knew instinctively what he meant. He understood that this was his way of having some sort of control in a situation that was spinning out of it right in front of them, and he nodded. Nobody did like wet socks. Just like nobody wanted to be protected by their... whatever they had been to each other. "I'm not normally a gambling man, but with you, I'll take my chances. Fire away," he shrugged indifferently. In the current climate, it was hard to be sure of much, but one thing James Potter did feel sure of was that Regulus Black wouldn't hurt him. Not like that, anyway. Words were something else entirely, and he'd felt all of them acutely as they landed in his chest, piercing new holes where previous ones had been starting to heal. "He's outdone himself," he agreed. "I s'pose someone's up there's laughing down at us. Thinks this is all some big joke. I think I deserve it, really, after all the pranks I've pulled. You probably deserve it, too, Reg. No offence."

Compassion filled him as he listened to Regulus speak, and James visibly softened. "I don't think I'm the hero here, unfortunately. I was asked to do this." This must be so difficult for him. It was almost like looking in Sirius' eyes when they were sixteen, though he didn't dare say this aloud. "Who could you possibly be disappointing,” James frowned, voice gentle, “by doing the right thing?" It was a rhetorical question; they both knew the answer. At long last, he sat down on one of the chairs with a sigh. "I don't want to be let out of it. Unless you want me gone, which I would understand. I can speak to Edgar to say I can't do it." His gaze, which had been fixated on his hands on the table in front of him, now went to meet Regulus'. "When I was asked to protect you – well, the double agent – I thought… Damn. Whoever it is must be so brave. It'd be an honour to protect someone like that. You may have ended up as far as you did because that was what was expected of you, but this choice that you've made... your conscience winning, despite everything you've been told your whole life, takes so much courage. I still stand by what I said. It'd be an honour, and I'll do it gladly, if you'll let me." He felt as if there was no air left in his lungs, as if it’d been punched out of him.

Alecto's shuffling betrayed her discomfort, regardless of the lack of expression on her face. Fenrir was no fan of the woman in front of him, but he wasn't entirely heartless and he didn't want to see a heavily pregnant woman sit in discomfort in his home. "The couch is softer if you want to swap. Or I have some duck feather cushions that I can offer you," he said, offering them as a truce between them. "You won't find it to be necessary, Carrow. Yes, we can be done with that topic."

Fenrir tried not to get involved with the Scottish werewolves where possible. Managing his own pack was enough work without being dragged into the internal politics of another pack - never mind that when two werewolf alphas in the same room usually led to vicious fights. But to hear that Angus had wandering hands...Fenrir wanted to apparate to Scotland and rip those hands off. It was unthinkable to him that the leader of a pack should behave in such a way. "If you were to want to depose Angus in the future, or if you wanted to teach him a lesson...I would offer my assistance," Fenrir said carefully. "I will save that favour for the future."

Privately, Regulus wondered how many of these friends truly considered Greta a friend, and how many had been coerced into an entirely insane conversation like he seemed to have been. He could leave, but something about the witch kept his feet firmly in place. Perhaps it was his sheer confusion at the woman's outlook on life. "I'm perfectly fine with the friends I have, I have no need for more. Maybe they could, but if we haven't got there yet, I don't need it," he shrugged. There were already too many people meddling in his life. "A strong glass of whiskey?"

"I have a lot of friends and I always want to make more. There are so many people I haven't met yet. Who knows, maybe they could become some of my closest friends?" She always saw the world in a positive light, or at least she tried her hardest to do so. Greta held on to that positivity amongst the chaos surrounding them. "Well you make one conversation, then the next. And so on. And before you noticed, you purposefully spend time together, tea, coffee, drinks."

Casting a disapproving glance in the direction of the man who'd disturbed him, Regulus' eyes remained trained on him until the man slunk away. He heard the man cursing under his breath, and Reg couldn't help the victorious smirk that spread on his lips. "I don't think I'm particularly well known for being nice...unless something has drastically changed since I last left the house," Reg shot back to Val, shrugging his shoulders. "Guess I'm tired of being bothered...I'm feeling a little grumpy today, and I was hoping Diagon Alley wouldn't be this busy."

Val had watched the interactions between Regulus and the party that wanted to look at the same shelves as him. The other seemed a bit insulted but did turn away after all. “Regulus Black, that wasn’t very nice of you, was it?” She said to him as she stood next to him, looking at the shelf next to the one he was watching. Stock of the shop had been running low and they weren’t going to make it with all ingredients until the next shipment of the Apothecary would be delivered, so Val had made her way over to the location for the emergency ingredients. “Is there a reason for the short reaction?”

With each passing day, Regulus could no longer deny the growing feeling of resentment that he felt. He felt like a pawn being moved about on a chessboard by different players, all with little care for his feelings or wellbeing. Theoretically, Regulus knew that there were people who cared for him...but the way that seemed to manifest was driving him further away. He had never been quite so lonely in all of his life, and he feared that if he disappeared the next day nobody would know to look for him for some time. Something had to change, but he was in too deep. He'd been in too deep since his mother had frogmarched him in front of the Dark Lord and practically held his arm still for the mark to be burned into him.

His posture was rigid, but Regulus kept one hand in his pocket where his wand lay. He was certain that this office was warded and full of protective charms that would work in Edgar's favour, but if things were to turn nasty he wanted to at least give himself a fighting chance to escape. "I would prefer to stand, thank you," Regulus said, standing just behind the empty chair. "I thought the matter from the other day was settled, I'm not sure what further questions there are to be asked."

Eyeing the photo of the Black family heirloom that Edgar was showing him, Regulus summoned every inch of pureblooded training that his parents had painstakingly instilled in him to keep his expression clear. "I spoke freely and of my own accord last time. I swore to the truth of my words. I'm sorry Mr Bones, but I can't assist you any further."

It was the look in the wizard's eyes from their initial meeting with both the Black brother's and he could tell there was something more, but it was going to take a little coaxing to bring it out. Sirius Black had proven himself within the order and there was this nagging feeling in the back of his head that perhaps the younger one, he could be an asset to how they could learn how to defeat the Dark Lord. This meeting could blown up in his face or it could be what they needed.

Edgar closed the door behind Regulus when he came into his office, a different ward of charms floating around them to conceal the room for ears that should not be listening. "Mr. Black, do have a seat." He gestured to the empty chair before moving around the desk to take his seat. "I had a few more questions and thought it was best if it was a conversation between the two of us." A pause. "I won't keep you too long. I understand how important your work is."

It has long been suspected that certain Black's were more than they appeared to be, aligning in an allegiance opposite of his. He pulled out pictures of the item that they were being questioned about last time. "I thought you might be more willing to talk freely about this."

Privately, Regulus continued to feel that Edgar was wildly optimistic. Good always wins was all well and good, but they were fighting against an army with people who would torture and maim non-discriminately. "You better have something other than hope up your sleeve, Mr Bones. Otherwise we will be in serious trouble," Regulus warned. He knew the Order had numbers, but he knew that the Death Eaters had time, ancient prejudice, and money on their side that the Order did not - and that had to count for something. "We shall see."

Nodding his head gratefully at Edgar's affirmation, Reg stood up as he ran a hand through his hair. With the grace of a pureblood, Reg waltzed out of the open door, a painted on smirk on his lips. "I hope this teaches you not to question the Black family any further. Thank you for affirming our innoncence, Mr Bones," he called down the corridor as he headed towards the lifts, steeling himself for a full shift of work in the Department of Mysteries after everything that had just happened.

Fin.

This was both unchartered territory for the both of them, but Edgar has faith that they could offer the protection that Regulus Black needed. They had the resources in both the ministry and the order.

"It might feel like there is no end in sight, but this is where we have hope that the right thing will come to be. Good always wins over evil." They may be feeling the pinch now, but he knew the shift would happen and when it did, he would bring those to justice for their crimes. "And we can match their tenacity. We are much stronger than they give us credit for."

"I will of course." The less that knew about Regulus, the better it would be in the long run. "Yes, of course you can leave." Edgar went to stand up, walking around his desk to open the door for him. "Back to work, you've wasted my time." A stern tone to his voice, in case there were others listening in or passing by.

Fenrir couldn't stop the look of absolute bafflement on his face as the woman rambled about protective whiskey. "The only thing this whiskey is protecting me from is the Christmas crowds, and it's giving me a cheerful mood," he said, tone laced with sarcasm. At her next question, Fen tilted his head slightly, considering the words. "Whiskey makes me feel good. I don't need to worry about being seen, I seem to attract attention wherever I go without me working for it."

"Huh." The sound came out a soft note, permeated with sincere interest. "Amber's thought to ward off negative energy. Maybe that whiskey's protecting you from something," she said, writing something else down before throwing the quill in the depths of her handbag, folding the napkin up and putting it in her pocket. "Did it make you feel good when I did? Did you feel seen?" A gentle tug pulled the corners of her lips into a small smirk.

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."