"Hey, Look At Me," Reg's Voice Was Gentle As He Reached To Put His Hand On Caradoc's Cheek, Stroking

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.”

Fenrir had headed out into some woodland in the Cotswolds following on from a shift at the White Wyvern. He would head home to collect his son soon, but Fenrir sometimes needed to walk off a long shift and he had several preferred haunts across the countryside outside of London where he could usually be found in the middle of the night. He loved the quietness of the woods at night, and with his heightened senses, he didn't even need to illuminate his path. As he wound his way deeper into the woodlands, Fenrir heard some non-natural noise ahead.

Wand now in hand, Fenrir continued to approach quietly. The figure came into sight, and Fen let out a small sigh. The youngest Nott sibling, Pandora, alone in the woods at night. "Pandora...is it safe for you to be out in the woods so late? Don't you know creatures prowl between these trees?" he called, wand still in hand just in case she shot a jinx his way. @pandoraxnott

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

"I don't have cheese fondue nearly as often as I want to. Unfortunately I haven't convinced my five year old son that cheese fondue is delicious yet, so my recipes at home have shrunk down to kid friendly meals...which mostly means chicken nuggets," Fenrir said with a snort. "Grilled peaches and goats cheese sounds incredible. I feel like that would be good with some spice to cut through the sweetness of the peaches, some fresh chili on top perhaps. Yes, I'll owl it across to you later once my shift finishes. No point you trying to make an imitation, I don't mind sharing my recipe."

"It is one of my favorite cheeses. I always use it when I make fondue. Oh, goat's cheese is lovely, I prefer it paired with fruits or vegetables in a cold dish, rather than a main, if I'm honest. It is more of a summer cheese for me, I made a good salad with grilled peaches and goats cheese in my book that I've heard good reviews about from people that have tried it." Balsamic vinegar, leeks and goats cheese worked well together, she could see the recipe it come together in her head when he described it. "Really? Oh please, that would be lovely."

As he approached the table, whatever the patrons had been muttering ceased and their conversation dried up. With a cool stare, Fenrir asked them again if there was anything he could help with, and was greeted with silence. With a shrug, he turned to head back towards the kitchen to get back to cooking. He'd made half a step in that direction when his eyes met those of a woman who he didn't seem to recognise, but the woman was evidently trying to stare a hole through his head. "Can I help you?" he asked curtly.

This was not Aurora's usually spot, but she had a request for a certain star chart from a client. Walking through knockturn alley left her a little on edge. Finding her seat at table four, she sat with a mug of coffee, taking a sip, sort of entertained by the table in front of her, listening to them complain. Though, that amused feeling instantly shift to dread when she saw who came out approaching the table beside her. She knew Fenrir Greyback, the stories told of the one who turned Remus. The table in front of her instantly ceased any complaint. There was a chance he would turn and not notice her, but their eyes met.

Aurora had a few run-ins with Fenrir, this strong part of her wanting to make him feel the pain Remus did.

Regardless of the way that this might end, Fenrir wanted to give it a shot. They'd been exclusive for a while in all but name, and it felt good to seal the deal. There was still much to consider, especially how he would introduce Magnus to the Pandora given he didn't know if this would end after a year. He didn't want his son getting too attached if the other woman was to leave again, but equally this was war and there was no guarantee that they would even make it to the end of the next year, or what the world would look like then they got to that point.

The incident with the clock had dragged up feelings that Fenrir had thought were long buried, and the whiskey mixed with the sleepiness of the end of Christmas day had made him melancholic. "My father...he took all the joy of Christmas away. As a young adult, suddenly free and learning how to be part of a pack, I didn't celebrate Christmas. I just took myself away for the day, spent all day hiking with a flask of whiskey. Now, for my boy, I want everything to be perfect. I never want him to feel the way I felt. I want him to feel the magic of Christmas, and to never doubt that he has a father who loves him with his whole heart," he breathed, knowing that any love his father may have had for him had disappeared the moment Fenrir had been saved but Freya had not.

Once the necklace was around Pandora's neck, Fenrir traced the delicate chain with his finger before cupping her cheeks as she kissed him. Opening the offered box, Fenrir touched the leather bracelets gently, almost astounded at her thoughtfulness. He slipped the bracelet intended for him over his wrist, leaving the one for Magnus still in the box. "Thank you. It's so thoughtful. Nobody's ever given me anything like this."

There were many factors when it came to what this would be like between them, but Pandora was willing to take the risk and see where this could go. There was no rush and she wanted to live in this feeling he made her feel. With the war slowly growing, they were not always guaranteed a tomorrow. All she had was now and that was what she would focus on. Fate kept pulling her towards him and she refused to push.

Any chance Fenrir would talk about his past, the way he grew up, learning recently the truth about his father, she would listen intently, wanting to drink it all in. "Magnus will know joy. You and Nancy give him that. He is a lucky boy who have two parents that love him. You are breaking all these barriers that were thrown at you." A softness to her tone, taking the moment where they could open up to each other, leaning in to place a kiss on his lips.

She didn't waste time to open the present, the necklace beautiful and seeing that it was a crescent moon, it would be a reminder that he was always there with her when they could not be together. "It's beautiful, Fen." She places it around her neck, giving him another kiss. "I have something for you and Magnus." Pandora summons a small box from her bag, holding it out for him. "I wanted to give you piece of mind." She waits until he opens the box, pulling out two bracelets. "They are enchanted with a tracker and a small protection charm. That way you always know where he is. It's my own magic. Spells I made."

Edgar remaining seated was an indication that all of the power lay with him at the moment, while Regulus stood before him like a naughty child. Still, he would not sit - it was far too casual while he was being questioned on such matters. He stared down at Edgar, his jaw set firmly as he considered the man's words. Clearly, they did believe they had enough evidence to link the heirloom and it's recent use to Regulus, otherwise he wouldn't be called back.

But if that were the case, why was he here instead of simply being arrested and carted off to Azkaban?

"Mr Bones, I appreciate that you yourself have not been raised with strict, ancient family values. I know what is required of me, and that has shaped who I am. My words, and what is required by my parents, are one and the same. There used to be two boys to share the burden between our demanding parents, now there is only one...I manage as I must," Regulus said, his tone sharp. Those who had been raised outside of a Sacred Twenty-Eight upbringing could never hope to understand the demands and pressures that their parents put on them. "I'm not sure what my conscience has to do with this, Mr Bones," he said, though his eyebrows furrowed as Edgar mentioned his internal conflict that had grown so loud he could almost hear it roaring in his ears.

Staring silently at the photo of himself and Sirius, Regulus shook his head. "Sirius made his choice. He chose his friends, and he left me behind...he left me. He knew what our parents would do to me, and he left me anyway. He left me to rot," he said bitterly, though he reached for the photograph anyway. "Your idea of family, and my own idea of family, they differ. I have nobody, Mr Bones. I am alone in this world - and if I wanted to run to Sirius, I couldn't. I don't know where my own brother lives."

Frowning once again at Edgar's offer, Regulus paused. He'd been gearing up to leave, but the offer seemed genuine. There was another beat of silence, before Regulus finally took a seat. In a very quiet voice, he asked "what protection could you offer me against the Dark Lord? People do not simply leave the service of the Dark Lord. They serve, or they die. How can you guarantee protection, and safety?"

"And what would you ask in return? I take it this offer is not from the kindness of your heart."

"Stand if you must." Edgar did not care too much for what the boy did, there were more pressing matters at hand and he knew this situation had to be dealt with in a certain manner to work in their favour. He remained seated in his chair, hands clasped together in front of him.

Being meant with resistant was expected and he could appreciate how hard it appeared family ties were instilled in the boy, but that also would also aid his words. No matter how dire Regulus wished to keep his composure, there was always a truth written within the eyes.

"Were those your words, or words required of you?" A beat. "At times it can feel hard to free oneself of shackles so tightly encompassed around us. The weight of our conscience a constant struggle on what is right or wrong." Edgar leans back in his chair. "I see the conflict in your eyes Regulus." He was throwing all his cards out on the desk.

"Family doesn't force you to believe in what they want you to. A real family, they accept you for who you are." He pulled out a picture from underneath the one, a smaller one, of two boys together, one he had brought to him. "You have a brother who would accept you for who you are."

Edgar went to stand up, hands resting on top of the desk. "If you have nothing more to share, then I will not hold you." A pause. "But what I can offer you, if you decide to do the right thing, is protection outside of these walls, not within the ministry." Half of the people he didn't trust. "And I have a feeling you know what I mean."

What had begun between them as a mutually beneficial physical agreement had quickly become something deeper, though there was still mountains for them to climb before anything between them could become permanent. Still, he was beginning to see that his feelings weren't quite as casual he'd once thought. At her giggle, Fenrir turned his head to press a chaste kiss to her cheek. "Nance's living room was absolutely covered in paper. The boy has been spoiled rotten," Fenrir said, his tone full of fondness. He'd never thought it would, but fatherhood suited him.

It'd been many years since Fenrir had been present for a formal Christmas dinner, having not had a full family Christmas dinner since he was a boy with both parents. Christmas dinners with Magnus were informal and casual, usually just spent with Nancy rather than a full family affair. "A few hexes would liven up a stuffy old dinner. You should've thrown one under the table and let them argue about who started it," he said slyly.

Watching Pandora light up had Fenrir tightening his arms around her, wanting to draw her closer. "We try our best. Our romantic relationship didn't work, but she's my best friend and Magnus means everything to us. I don't think she will mind you meeting him, but I want to check anyways," he explained, before falling quiet as she did. "It's impossible to ignore what's between us, and you know my feelings on it. But giving some time to see where we get...I think I have been yours for a while now. Nobody else compares to you," he said with a warm smile. "I have something for you," he reached for his wand, summoning the small box from under his tree. "Merry Christmas, my darling."

There was an impeding question that hung on the tip of her tongue. It had been there for the last several weeks, not sure how to bring it up, or what he might think. Fenrir was the last person Pandora thought she would want, considering the obstacles that seemed to be in their way, but the more she pondered on it, the answer, for herself, was right there in front of her.

Pandora gave a small giggle, picturing Magnus tearing the wrapping paper to shreds. "Let him have the magic. It must have been a sight to see."

It was only a matter of time before he would be betrothed and her parents had a few families in mind. "You should have seen the arguing. I though hexes would have been thrown at some point." That was when she slipped out of the room unnoticed.

A genuine smile seeps on her lips when he mentions talking to Nancy about her meeting Magnus. There was part of her that wondered if he would turn her down, but he didn't. "That is understandable. I always admired how the two of you could co-parent the way you do." Her eyes close softly, feeling his head on top of hers. "I do have one more question," silence lingers a little between them, building the courage to utter her next words. "Will you be mine? I know what comes between us, but let's see how we do, together, and decide after a year." Her eyes slowly open, rising to find his.

The brief flash of guilt in Caradoc's eyes that quickly got masked by pain once more made Regulus frown, but he would press for more information on that once he had dealt with the more immediate issues. "You're hurt, that is a big deal," he said, kicking the door closed behind them as soon as Caradoc was in from the cold.

Regulus settled Caradoc onto the couch, pressing a kiss to his forehead before he stood again to look his boyfriend over with an analytical eye. "Don't be daft. I can brew more potions, I can't find another Caradoc," Reg said, his tone stern enough to let Caradoc know that he wouldn't take no for an answer on this. "I think....let's deal with the splinching first, unless you have anything more serious? There's too much blood, I can't tell what's what," he said, rifling through the bottles he'd summoned to find his essence of dittany.

Kneeling before Caradoc, Reg moved the scraps of his trousers aside to get a clear look at the wound. Being unable to go to St Mungos after Death Eater missions had led Regulus to learn some basic healing, but he wasn't sure how much good he'd be here. "It might sting, okay?" he said, pulling the stopper out of the bottle before he dropped two drops of the essence on Caradoc's leg.

And here, the guilt was seeping in. One didn’t have to be a genius to tell that Regulus had been asleep, or at the very least planning to go to bed soon. Here Caradoc was, interrupting and bleeding out. “‘S no biggie,” he mumbled as he leaned against his boyfriend, thankful for the assist. It was only when he was inside that he realized just how cold it had been out there.

“Mission. It went sideways. I was with a couple other Aurors — told them to apparate and get help and I stayed behind . . .” He trailed off, trying to spare Regulus anymore of the details. Plus, he didn’t particularly want to think about it himself.

As they reached the living room, Caradoc let out a sigh of relief and leaned his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “This is enough, Reg. Don’t waste any of your potions on me,” he said, just happy to be here.

Bellatrix was more infuriating than his parents, at this point. Once he'd taken the mark and shown some initial devotion to the cause, his parents had backed off content in the knowledge that at least one son was doing the right thing. Without him being marked, Regulus would never have been allowed to move out of the family home, or take his job at the ministry which allowed him more freedom than he'd ever had. But Bella's care manifested in intense devotion, and he worried that he would never be able to get her to give up on this desire for him to be better than he was. All Regulus wanted to do was live his life in peace, and study the intricacies of magic at the Department of Mysteries. It would be a quiet life, but it was his - and that diverted from his family's view.

He was just thankful that they hadn't started pressuring him to take a wife and to continue the line.

Regulus knew his cruciatus would disappoint his cousin immeasurably. He had seen her wielding it on missions, and though he hated the curse, he had to admit that watching Bellatrix cast it was almost like an art form. Watching Bella lift her wand after his first poor attempt had panicked him, fearing that the curse was heading his way, and it was that panic along with his earlier fury that led to a slightly stronger second attempt though it was still poor.

His chest was heaving with the effort of casting even such a weak curse, sweat beading at his brow. "But I..." he trailed off, stopping himself. He had been about to say that he didn't love it, which was potentially the worst thing he could say in the presence of his cousin beyond confessing to his muggle-born lover. The rest of his thought was cut off as he stared down the end of his cousin's wand, pupils dilating in fear. He knew that he'd been poor, but he hadn't anticipated Bella torturing him for it. As red flashed, Regulus flinched away, shrinking into himself to try and protect himself from the inevitable pain. He could hear Bella laughing, and the sound sickened him. After a moment, he realised her curse had been directed elsewhere - and when he looked back at his cousin, there was something new in his gaze. The faintest hint of disgust, hidden behind the layers of fear.

"I don't need you to tell me it was poor, Bella. I know it," Regulus sneered, pushing away from the table as he stood. Thinking back on Rabastan's teaching Regulus dug into his confused emotions as he stared at his dishevelled cousin, and with his voice dripping with disgust he held his wand steady and cast "imperio." Tilting his head slightly, he went for the same command he had given Rabastan. It would upset Bella as much as it had upset Rabastan. "Your wand. Give me your wand."

Regulus was testing Bellatrix's patience. Truly, this was more demanding than any mission gifted to her by the Dark Lord. She could not torture the boy, and neither did she want to. She could barely manipulate him, since familial intimacy meant he knew her well. Force had not benefited her with Regulus and she felt that she was losing ground. It was a situation most perturbing and undeniably irksome. Her rage still lingered as he spoke reassuringly, her palms still splayed against the couch as though she were trying to ground herself. Yet even then, she managed to locate an ounce of pride, acknowledging that the boy did not give up easily. Regulus was proving to be a challenging project. He did want to learn and he respected the need to study magic further. She would give him that much. It was admirable despite his misplaced tutelage. Had she known that he had mastered Occulmency, she would have thought of him more highly. But she knew nothing of it.

"Very well." Arguing was going nowhere. She was growing tired and bored and frustrated. She wanted to move on. "As I promised, I will make no further demands after you show me your curses."

They were one curse down and she was looking forward to seeing his Cruciatus. By far her favourite of the Unforgiveables, Bellatrix wielded it with devastating adoration. Her skill with it was calamitous. It fed her sadism and brought her a high like nothing else. Nothing could compare - not sex, not drink, not even death itself. So when Regulus's spell danced from her dress without so much as even a feeble tickle, she sighed with dramatic disappointment and raised her wand to show him how it should be done. Fortunately for him, she hadn't expected his second attempt. It stunned her, crushing her back against the chair with something akin to an electric shock. Her shriek pierced the silence like a knife cutting silk, then she laughed wildly, gasping for air and sliding halfway down her chair as the spell receded.

There was pain. It did hurt. But not as it should. Regulus's spell lacked substance and finesse. Since her own wand had fallen to the ground, she reached down to retrieve it, her normally steadfast fingers trembling in the aftermath and her hair now askew at a tremendously jaunty angle.

"You didn't mean it, cousin. You need to want it. You need to love it." Wand now in hand, she directed it mercilessly between Regulus's eyes, wanting to see what emotions would reveal themselves in that flicker of an instant. Her breath was still ragged, her position still lopsided against the chair. Insane, some called her. But that was a lie told by fools and enemies. There was no madness within Bellatrix Lestrange. There was only pure, unadulterated awareness. She knew exactly what she was doing and she knew that she adored it. With a slashing motion, she cast the curse at a portrait, the flashing red causing the illusion of blood as the picture's occupants screamed in horror. Their disarray clashed horribly with Bella's laughter, her mirth ringing true and bold with shamelessness. Even in her mildly weakened state, that curse would have been crippling. She would spare Regulus from a direct hit.

Slowly, she pushed back up into her seat and steadied herself. She wouldn't bother giving him an assessment. He knew it had been poor, but she supposed he'd tried his best. "Now the Imperius. You weakened me-" She paused, shrugged dismissively and wryly simpered, "well, sort of. But it should help you nonetheless. Let's see if I can resist."