Regulus Didn't Want James Potter To Burrow His Way Under His Skin Again Like He Had Those Years Ago.

REGULUS BLACK.

"I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret."

— Marauders Era

Kingsley cast his eyes over Aurora with a surveying eye, and her nervousness was evident. He didn’t want to terrify the poor girl, but equally, he was not willing to send unprepared fighters out into the field only to have to knock on their loved one’s doors and deliver the news that unfortunately their daughter had died. Rolling his shoulders as he settled himself for a defensive fight, Kingsley watched her body language with interest. He felt her need to prove herself, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for her. Deflecting her charm with a lazy flick of his wand, Kingsley sent back his own disarming charm. “Disarm me any way you can – assume your opponent will defend with the intent to attack. Next time, I will defend with jinxes."

Aurora was slightly nervous meeting with Kingsley. There was an intimidation that seemed to linger in the air and this need to make a good impression. It was important to show him that she was capable of taking care of herself, so that he would tell Edgar it was fine sending her back out on missions. "I know better than showing up late." Not that she would anyway, being prompt was one of her traits. Her eyes widen when he asks her to disarm him, glancing around where she could feel the magic of the charms surrounding them. Her wand secure in her grasp. She raises her arm, her gaze fixating on his wand. "Expelliarmus." She speaks clearly and sternly, flicking her wrist in the direction of where he is holding his wand.

Regulus was not built for crowds. Well, that was partially a lie - he could cope with crowds at pureblooded society events, where he only had to show his face for a small while before he could retreat into a quieter room with a book. Navigating festive crowds including people who would simply stop in the middle of the road and cut his stride short? Very different.

He was hoping the apothecary would be a little quieter, given they weren't known for selling gifts, but there were people who were stocking up amongst their other shopping. Having carved out a space in front of a shelf, Regulus was determined to remain unmoved even as a woman stumbled into him. His hand shot out to help steady her, even as his lips curled with disapproval. "That's okay," he muttered, hoping the woman would leave him alone now.

Clearly, his face didn't look nearly as unwelcoming as he hoped and he frowned. "This one?" Reaching for the bottle, Regulus eyed the contents curiously. "If you were to add a handful of Gurdyroot to this I think it would make the potion a bit stronger."

You could certainly tell that the festive period was fast approaching, she had never seen so many people crowding together down the small alley way. She had only to quickly go into the Apothecary before heading home. This was always one of the busiest times at the bakery, people wanting orders ready for their own festive activates. She had managed to slip in with ease, though the shop it self, was also busy. Many stocking up, ready to tackle those winter illnesses that always seemed to come.

"Shit" she mumbled, seeing the exact bottle that she needed. Elbows of others forcing him to stumble into the man next to her. "Sorry, lost my footing." she apologised.

"Though, any chance you could simply past the purple bottle over there. That is all i need to sort this headache of mine, and It seems as always, I am too short to reach the damn thing."

Regulus's gaze fixed upon Frank with a curious eye, before he shook his head. "Whether I was in the shop first is irrelevant...if you were at the shelf first, that's what's most important. You'd be entitled to take whatever you need," he said, it making absolute sense in his mind. "A bit of a grump...not a huge grump, but a bit. I'll take it. Better than being known for being a miserable bastard," he said, lips curling into a brief grin.

"Oh, well now when I go home I'm going to have to sit and think about future code names. Leo is too obvious, he'd know it was me immediately."

"Maybe, but if you were here first you deserve some as well, don't you think?" Maybe he ought to try and talk with Regulus more often, this really was a fascinating conversation. "Only a bit of a grump though. Everyone has to work at politeness anyways. It's a learned skill. You could definitely do it.

"Why not both? Go fully under cover. Give yourself a code name. Could be a bit amusing, honestly."

While Regulus was growing more wary of his friends as his allegiances were shifting and changing, when Severus had reached out to him Regulus had gone without question. Reg had wondered whether Severus might understand his logic, particularly given his previous attachment to Lily Evans but he didn't dare breathe a word of it, just in case.

Stepping into Severus' home, Reg shrugged off his coat and hung it up. "I would love a cup of tea if you don't mind. It's freezing out - even warming charms don't seem to make much difference."

where: his home who: @battle-scvrs (Regulus Black) when: first of january

There was one person that Severus felt he could count on, a friendship he would be eternally grateful for. They had shared a few first together, but most importantly, he did not have many friends when he lost the one that shattered him on the inside. He could appear cold and detached on the outside, but that was him protecting himself.

"Regulus." A low gravelly voice echoes in the hallway, greeting him at the foyer. "The study is ready." He turns to find his way back to a room that was his safe haven. "Did you want something to drink?"

Every time he thought about what he had done, Regulus was filled with an impending sense of doom. He'd sold his soul to a man he didn't trust, a man who would use the information he gave without consideration to the danger it put Regulus in. Sure, protectors were being provided - but really, what was a few Order agents against the might of his extremist family? If his betrayal was revealed, the Dark Lord was the very least of Regulus' problems. Bellatrix would flay him alive, he knew it. Still, he had to remain firm and confident in his decision - he couldn't continue as he had been, and therefore something had to change.

The abruptness with which Regulus had stood up had disrupted the table and the pint of beer toppled over, liquid running over the side of the table and into his shoes. "Motherfucker," he cursed, fumbling for his wand. He cast silencing charms over the room before vanishing the beer. "You can fuck off. Go back to where you came from, and tell Edgar Bones to find me someone else. This is not happening. Is he taking the actual piss?" Regulus ranted furiously. With his wand still in hand, he conjured a bottle of firewhiskey and practically ripped the lid off before lifting the bottle to his lips. It was a sick irony, he supposed, that his own instructions had led to James Potter being before him once again. "Get out. Get out."

There was a double-agent working for the Order. He'd had his own suspicions, but the rumours were confirmed once and for all when James had been asked to act as a protector for them. Of course, he had jumped at the chance. It was an honour, really; the amount of bravery that must take was nothing less than admirable, and James meant it with everything he had when he said he would protect them with his life. The technicalities of their arrangement had been discussed briefly. He had been sworn to secrecy – he was not even to tell Lily, or Sirius – at least for the time being, and so he had left his girlfriend at home with a poor excuse as to why he had to go out. She was far too clever to believe it, but known enough not to question it.

Eyes landed on the black-haired boy as soon as he ascended the spiral staircase leading to the private room that had been arranged for the two of them to make their acquaintance. James recognised the curve of his nose, the set of his jaw at once. Of course he did. He could recognise it in darkness. Mouth agape, it took him several seconds to regain any sort of composure – much less the ability to speak. "Regulus?" His voice was incredulous.

Up until now, Regulus had been incredibly careful about those he'd spoken to about his changing allegiances. He'd asked Edgar to honour that by keeping the true source of the information anonymous, and keeping the circle of protectors as small as possible. If he didn't accept James as a protector, that was a loose end and a risk. It infuriated him that this situation was clearly Edgar trying to honour Regulus' demands, and therefore he had been the harbinger of his own doom (if one wanted to be so dramatic, which he did). This would require a lot of contact with James, which he vehemently did not want.

Reg shrugged his shoulders, glancing down at his shoes. "Nobody likes wet socks," he murmured. When everything else was spiralling out of his control, wet socks was something entirely stupid and mundane that he could indeed control. As James settled the bottle back down, Reg snatched it up again and took another long swig. "I don't think you want me going anywhere near your head with a wand at the moment, not given how much firewhiskey I've just swigged. If you want to take the risk though..." he trailed off, quirking an eyebrow in James' direction. "What sort of test? Do you want to pinch me to make sure I'm real? I assure you this is actually happening, despite every atom of my body fucking begging for it to be a nightmare. I'm not sure even the Dark Lord himself could conjure up this particular situation, and yet Edgar Bones has just....well."

"What's not to understand? Edgar told you the situation, I assume. You volunteered because you're a hero and that's what heroes do, and unfortunately, the person is me. Here to continually disappoint people, as ever," he offered James a tight smile - a mask of protection. "My conscience finally won over my people-pleasing nature. I expect it will kill me, but that's the risk I've accepted. I'm sure if you go to Edgar and explain, he'll let you out of this assignment."

The universe was very clearly playing a prank on him. It was obvious. After twelve years of dishing them out, now, finally, his punishment had come, some kind of divine retribution in the form of this sick practical joke – and not a very funny one, at that. James bitterly willed the universe to try harder. He'd always felt justice would come back around to bite him in the arse one day, but couldn't have in his wildest dreams predicted something like this: Regulus Black, betraying his family’s cause, under James’ protection. The whole thing was outrageous.

Despite everything, he let out a breath of laughter. "It was getting into your socks," he repeated, amused, as if it were the most nonsensical thing in the world. To be honest, everything in this room right now seemed to be nonsensical. Walking around the table, he picked up the bottle and took a swig. Face immediately soured at the taste. He replaced it on the table, sliding it across towards Regulus. "I'll obliviate you, you obliviate me?" he suggested. "I can't believe this is happening. Surely it's not real. Is it a test, d'you think?" He nodded. "I think we might be, too."

James chewed his bottom lip. "Okay, you're going to have to explain what's happening here, because I don't understand."

Fenrir headed straight into the kitchen, grabbing the nearest plate of kitchen leftovers which he shovelled down. It was a mix of several dishes, but he'd been starving all day and food was food. Once he'd finished up, he tossed the plate into the sink, lazily casting a cleaning charm over it as he dug out his backpack of clothes. Shoving his dirty chefs whites into there once he'd changed, Fenrir would either head back later on to retrieve it or it would just remain here overnight depending on where the evening took them.

Nodding briskly at Thorfinn, Fenrir cast a quick goodbye over his shoulder to the owner. "Ready to go. Don't think I've ever eaten a pie so fast in my life," Fen said with a grin, prepared for the fun ahead of them. "See you there," he said, before twisting on the spot to apparate away.

Thorfinn took the shot that was being offered, downing it with his counterpart before he left. He leaned back in his chair and surveyed the room, at least this was a crowd of people he could be around, the odd one sticking out like a sore thumb. The wizard was curious where the night might lead him, but he was more than willing to get his hands dirty - it had been far too long since they last were.

Twenty minutes passed and he turned his attention to the door Fenrir went into, sliding off his stool when the male walked out, hands smoothing over his suit, robes waiting for them when it was time. "You ready to go?"

When the details for his meeting with his second protector had arrived, Regulus had committed the co-ordinates to memory before he had burned the parchment away. There was no use taking risks and leaving behind a paper trail of his betrayal - it would only come back to haunt him. He wasn't sure exactly who Edgar had arranged as a protector in addition to James, but he was hoping that this meeting wasn't going to haunt him the way his one with James Potter had done.

He was growing more comfortable with the deception that was laying under his skin, the lies he was telling to his family and to his friends about his involvement in the Death Eaters. He would maintain the facade for as long as possible, hoping to deal as much damage as he could before he was cut off or killed. Still, there was much to be concerned about while he was still actively working for the Death Eaters whilst also providing information to the Order and that was what his assigned protection was here to assist with...or so he thought.

Apparating to the co-ordinates he had memorised, Regulus took a moment to take in the howling winds and the crashing waves against a gloomy sky. It was the sort of place that he could lose himself, if he was allowed to do so. Taking a deep breath, he straightened his spine and headed towards the seemingly abandoned shack. Raising his hand, he knocked once as a courtesy before pushing the door open anyways. "Hello?" he called out, his voice strong. "This is quite the place."

who: @battle-scvrs when: sometime ago where: an abandoned hut on a beach in Scottland

Waves could be heard crashing onto the shore like wild roaring beasts, with anger so deep and yet a yearning for something new. One glance out of the dusty window and the sight of the waves would immediately come into view. It was through walks that Hestia had found that location. Whenever solitude had been required to think more clearly the witch had found her feet carrying her away from her cottage and down to the beaches just near by, until mile after mile had past only to apparate back home. It was during those walks that she noticed the abandoned shacks and cottages. Had the waves been too high? Hestia doubted that she’d ever find an answer to that.

The hut seemed almost perfect, had become even more so after the auror had placed the spells on it. Layers upon layers now sheltered the rundown cottage from the outside world. From a mirage that caused the building to appear abandoned, even more so, no matter who was inside to shielding charms and veils that allowed none but those permitted to pass through. Anyone out there would have simply been forced to move past.

Hestia was waiting on Regulus, had arrived early enough just to make sure. It was a meeting she had requested after talking over the details with Edgar. Now, seeing the younger Black heir moving down a path like that was not something she could have seen in the cards, but the world had proven to be odder and more surprising than anything.

She twirled the wand in her hand, ready and waiting for the steps that eventually she’d be able to hear. Whatever was within her power, the witch was going to do. If this was the clue, the one thing to stopping it all, it was worth the risk. Hestia was willing to give as much as it would take.

And then, finally, she could hear some steps.

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?"