Serenity of War

The alley was dimly lit, the faint glow of lanterns barely cutting through the swirling mist. Regulus stood with his back against the damp brick wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His dark hair hung loose around his face, and his sharp eyes scanned the shadows nervously.

“You know how dangerous it is for me to meet you like this,” he hissed as Dumbledore approached, his voice low but tense. “Every time we speak, I risk being caught. Do you have any idea what the Dark Lord would do to me if he found out?”

Dumbledore, ever calm and composed, stopped a few paces away. His blue eyes twinkled with an inscrutable expression, his hands clasped loosely in front of him. “I assure you, Mr. Black, this alley has been warded. No one will discover us here.”

Regulus scoffed, the sound harsh and bitter. “Wards or not, you’re asking me to play a dangerous game, old man. If you have something to say, say it quickly.”

Dumbledore tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharpening. “What do you know about Lily Potter?”

Regulus frowned, his expression flickering between confusion and suspicion. “What do you mean, what do I know? She’s in hiding. She and her husband. That’s common knowledge among the Death Eaters. He’s been obsessed with finding them.”

Dumbledore’s hand rose to stroke his long silver beard, his expression thoughtful. “And yet,” he murmured, almost to himself, “she is no longer where she was meant to be.”

Regulus stiffened, his frown deepening. “What are you talking about? She was supposed to be under your protection. Are you telling me she’s missing?”

Dumbledore didn’t respond immediately. He merely nodded, a slow, deliberate motion, and turned as if to walk away.

“Wait!” Regulus stepped forward, grabbing Dumbledore’s arm. His voice dropped to a sharp whisper. “You don’t get to just nod and walk off. You summoned me here. You brought this up. You owe me an explanation. What’s going on?”

Dumbledore regarded him with a measured look, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What makes you think I owe you anything, Mr. Black?”

Regulus bristled, his grip tightening. “Because you don’t call me out to risk my neck unless it’s important. Because if Lily Potter is missing, it means something. And because I know you wouldn’t waste time with me unless you needed answers. So tell me what you know, or I walk away from this.”

For a moment, the two men stood locked in a silent standoff, the tension between them palpable. Finally, Dumbledore sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly.

“I have reason to believe that Lily Potter has removed herself and her son from her husband’s care,” he said carefully. “And I fear she may have sought protection in a place… far more dangerous than any she might have found with the Order.”

Regulus blinked, stunned. “You think she went to the Dark Lord?”

“I cannot say for certain,” Dumbledore admitted, his tone heavy with regret. “But it would explain her disappearance, and her lack of contact with the Order.”

Regulus stared at him, his mind racing. “That doesn’t make sense,” he said finally. “She’s no fool. She wouldn’t risk her son like that.”

Dumbledore said nothing, but the look in his eyes was enough to make Regulus doubt himself on that.

“You should have told me this from the start,” Regulus said, his voice low and angry. “If the Dark Lord has her, if she’s joined him… I need to know what you expect me to do about it.”

Dumbledore stepped closer, his gaze piercing. “I expect you to listen, to watch, and to tell me anything you learn. If Lily Potter has made a deal with Voldemort, it will not end well… for her, for her son, or for anyone.”

Regulus hesitated, his heart pounding. He knew the risks. He knew the danger. But he also knew that Dumbledore was right.

“Fine,” he said at last. “But if this goes wrong, it’s on your head.”

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. “I would expect nothing less.”

With that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Regulus alone in the cold, silent alley, the weight of the conversation pressing down on him like a stone.

A sudden burning sensation on Regulus’ forearm pulled him out of any thoughts of Lily. He yanked up his sleeve, his lips curling into a snarl as the serpent slithered and coiled on his skin. A summons. And not just any summons, this one pulsed with urgency.

Without hesitation, he Disapparated, reappearing in the dark, oppressive entryway of Grimmauld Place. His jaw clenched as he looked around. My home, he thought bitterly, though it hadn’t felt like home in years. Now it was nothing more than a den for murderers and fanatics, a sanctuary for those who pledged themselves to the Dark Lord.

The murmur of voices drifted from the dining room. Regulus strode toward the sound, his footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor. When he entered, the sight that greeted him made his stomach churn.

The long mahogany table, once a place of Black family meals, was now a throne for hatred. Dark-robed figures sat around it, their voices low and venomous as they exchanged whispers. Snippets of their vile conversations reached Regulus’ ears, disparaging remarks about half-bloods, gleeful plans for their next acts of terror.

He scanned the room quickly. He was the last to arrive, except for Voldemort himself. That fact alone sent a prickle of unease down his spine.

Silently, he moved to his seat near the head of the table, to the right of his father, Orion Black. The chair beside him, once occupied by his mother, Walburga, sat empty, a stark reminder of how much had changed. Orion barely acknowledged him, his sharp features impassive as he leaned back in his chair, his hand resting on his cane.

Regulus folded his hands in front of him, his expression carefully neutral. But inside, his thoughts raced. He replayed his conversation with Dumbledore, his mind snagging on the mention of Lily Potter. She wouldn’t be so reckless as to…

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden, deafening silence that fell over the room.

Voldemort had arrived.

The Dark Lord glided into the room, his presence commanding and suffocating all at once. His pale skin seemed to glow in the dim light, and his crimson eyes scanned the room with cold amusement. Every Death Eater at the table rose to their feet in unison, bowing their heads in deference.

Regulus followed suit, his stomach knotting as he stood. It wasn’t Voldemort who caught his attention, though, it was the figure at his side.

A woman with striking red hair.

Regulus froze, his heart sinking. Shit.

Lily Potter.

She stood at Voldemort’s side, her expression unreadable. Her green eyes, usually so vibrant, were dulled, her face pale. She held Harry in her arms, the infant silent and still, as if sensing the danger around him.

Voldemort’s lips curved into a thin, humorless smile as he addressed the room. “My loyal followers,” he began, his voice silken and cold, “tonight, we welcome a… special guest.”

Regulus clenched his fists under the table, his mind racing. What the hell is she doing here?

“She has come to me of her own volition,” Voldemort continued, his tone dripping with mockery. “Seeking protection for her son. A wise choice, wouldn’t you agree?”

There was a murmur of agreement around the table, though Regulus noted the glances exchanged between some of the Death Eaters. Not everyone was convinced.

Voldemort turned his gaze to Lily, his smile widening. “Mrs. Potter has made an offer, a most intriguing one. She wishes to pledge herself to our cause, in exchange for her son’s safety.”

Regulus’ breath caught in his throat. He glanced at Lily, searching her face for any sign of deception, but she gave nothing away.

“This, of course, presents an opportunity,” Voldemort continued, his eyes gleaming with malice. “But also a test. We shall see if Mrs. Potter has the conviction to serve our cause… or if her resolve crumbles under pressure.”

Regulus felt a surge of anger and dread. He knew what Voldemort meant. Lily was walking a razor’s edge, and any misstep could cost her, and Harry, their lives.

Voldemort’s gaze swept over the room, lingering on Regulus for a moment too long. “You look troubled. Is there something you’d like to share?”

Regulus forced himself to meet the Dark Lord’s gaze, his face a mask of calm. “Not at all, my Lord,” he said smoothly, though his heart was pounding. “I am merely curious to see how this… arrangement unfolds.”

Voldemort’s lips twitched, as if amused by his response. “Curiosity can be dangerous, young  Mr. Black,” he said lightly. “But I shall allow it. For now.”

Regulus inclined his head, his mind working furiously. He had to figure out what Lily was playing at, and fast. Because if Voldemort suspected even a hint of betrayal, there would be no saving her.

Or Harry.