𝕄𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕

Sekhmet awoke with a gasp, trying to pull as much air into her lungs as physically possible. Her chest ached with her attempt, her head pounding something vicious when she opened her eyes to the bright light of the world. Her eyes darted around the new room not recognizing it as where she had been previously. She knew without looking that Regulus was by her side. She could smell the scent of his cologne; a sea breeze filled with a mix of salt, citrus, and driftwood. He had worn it for years, the perfume being one of his inventions. The smell was so distinctly Regulus that it was hard to even fathom the concept that it could be used on anyone else. 

Sekhmet studied the room further, her vision more clear after having been awake for a few moments. The pure white radiating from every corner was a dead giveaway considering that nowhere else in the school had this much light shining through, except for maybe the greenhouse. Sekhmet was undoubtedly in the Hospital Wing after having done-

What was it that she’d done? 

Sekhmet couldn’t remember what she had been doing before ending up here. It was as though all her memories had been dragged through sludge making it hard to focus on any particular thing. She racked her brain, trying her best to figure out what had occurred. She could hear Regulus saying something beside her, but she was too deep in thought to make out his words. 

She scanned through her memories looking for anything that might trigger something. The biggest event she’d been to in the last few weeks was Osiris’ wedding. The ceremony was beautiful and there had been a large crowd in attendance. She went through every moment of the wedding desperately hoping that she’d understand what got her here when it happened. Those damned red eyes peered at her as if she were some kind of mysterious prize to be had. That’s when it all came back to her. 

Those eyes that had stared at her intensely, had offered a hand to her. Those words that the man spoke, his tone so sure and steady. Sekhmet trembled a little at the thought of him. The most prominent part of her memory was that there was something distinctly wrong about him. He had an aura of unfathomable power, his magic most certainly dark in its allegiance from what she could sense. He seemed familiar, though not in a way she could place. She had obviously never remembered meeting him before— except for the wedding— but it was thought that in the core of her being, she knew who he was. Perhaps the feeling was simply intuition, but perhaps it was something more. He had mentioned the two being a “powerful pair” but what on Earth did that even mean? She would certainly know him if he was a pureblood, but she couldn’t for the life of her place who he was. 

As Sekhmet spiraled further down into a multitude of different unsavory thoughts Regulus Black made his move. He saw Sekhmet’s confusion, her fear, and grabbed her bringing her head to rest on his shoulder as he tried to ground her to reality. All he wanted at the moment was for her to feel safe in his arms. Sekhmet struggled at first, still stuck in the horrors of her mind, when he embraced her. She flinched in a way that had Regulus debating his actions, but once she recognized him— his scent rather—she relaxed into his hold, going pliant in his familiar arms.

Sekhmet was trying her hardest to not go into shock about the whole thing. Maybe this was that blood curse her grandfather had written about? The whole ordeal certainly wasn’t a dream; it felt far too real, too corporeal to be a figment of her own making. She knew everything that came from the Arafa side of her family, so it must be from her mother’s. It felt as though the event she saw was inevitably going to happen, and although she hardly believed in the actual abilities of seers she knew what she felt. Knew it to be real. That’s what made it all so terrifying. For just a moment she needed normalcy, needed to be okay. She turned her head toward Regulus’ face, whispering to him in a tone so soft he almost hadn’t heard it.

“Tell me something, please. Anything about yourself, your life,” Sekhmet requested gently, her fingers going to play with the material of his dress shirt. 

“What would you like to know? I could tell you about Dora if you want. My niece, that is.” Regulus offered, his eyes turning to fall upon Sekhmet’s face as she gave a slight nod of her head.

“Well, Andromeda sent me a letter recently. She said that Dora is growing up quickly. Apparently, she can almost walk, can you believe that?” Regulus asked with a fond laugh of disbelief, his gaze now looking out the window as he spoke.

Despite Regulus’ eyes now being off of her, Sekhmet’s eyes were focused solely on him. She hung onto his every word as if it were some holy substance that would save her damned soul from the deepest depths of Tartarus. Regulus had always acted as a sort of balm for her. He calmed her soul in ways that others couldn’t, brought her joy that she had thought unimaginable before meeting him, and made her a better person. He made her want to live; not just survive. 

Regulus continued to speak, his eyes glowing with a deep sense of affection and pride as he went on about his little niece and cousin. Andromeda had been burnt off the family tapestry in Regulus’ fifth year for marrying a muggle-born and falling pregnant with his child. She was disowned by the Black family, but Regulus continued to contact her regardless. 

He loved his older cousin. Loved how she helped him with his charms homework when everyone else was too busy to even pay attention to him. Loved how she snuck him peppermint toads from Honeydukes when he had gotten a particularly bad letter from home while at Hogwarts. He loved Andromeda’s kind soul and energizing sense of life; that’s why he kept contact with her, why he supported her through every decision in life.

“She said we could come visit soon if we want— said she wanted to properly meet you outside of all the pureblood aristocracy.” Regulus beamed, his thoughts obviously moving to a darker place when his infectious smile dropped into a small frown.

“She also asked… she asked after Bellatrix. I- I didn’t know what to say. How do I tell one of my most loyal, kindhearted loved ones that her sister has decided to turn completely to the dark side; torturing people like it’s a normal pastime and casting the killing curse with no remorse?” Regulus asked Sekhmet, his gaze moving once more to connect with hers. 

Sekhmet sighed, eyes dropping, feeling for the boy. She figured that sooner than later her brothers would be forced to join into pureblood politics— ultimately getting the mark and pledging their support for this new dark lord. She looked into his eyes once again, though this was more than a simple fleeting glance. No, this was a promise; a pact she intended to keep. She grasped his hand within her palm, feeling the cool silver of the Black family signet ring sinking into her hand. It weighed heavy, its emblem holding centuries' worth of magic.

“We do it together Reg. We will always do this together.”