Under the New Moon
27th of October
As the sun rose upon Britain, a veil of fear and apprehension was set on people's minds as details about the events of last night came out. The news reached most wixen in the country by breakfast time, as the Daily Prophet was delivered to hundreds of waking families.
Yesterday, during the night of the 26th of October, in the city of Durham, a ravenous attack was perpetrated on the Muggle and muggle-born population of the northern city. Dozens of Death Eaters descended on a quiet neighbourhood of terrace houses, bringing with them unmitigated chaos and killing.
According to Muggle authorities, at least 112 people lost their lives during the raid — though the police didn't know about the Death Eaters' assault and were confunded, by a squad of Obliviators, to believe the death toll was caused by the IRA (Irish Republican Army). An emissary from the Ministry of Magic made sure that the Muggle news publications, such as the BBC, broadcasted the Obliviators' version of events as facts. The Ministry's version, however, also had unexpected consequences in the Muggle Britain government as the fake death toll was deemed as the highest by the IRA — which caused harsh consequences from the Muggle prime minister, Margaret Thatcher, as she imposed more measures against the Irish rebels.
As for the Wizarding World, a sense of dread encompassed the wixen public as they heard the real accounts of the bloody night. A detail, standing above all else, was the appearance of none other than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself at the raid, causing mass hysteria in pockets all over Magical Britain. With the Daily Prophet stating the majority of deaths were caused by You-Know-Who, many witches and wizards went out of their way to avoid huge populated places, such as Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade.
Many members of the political class tried to take advantage of the people's fear, including the dishonoured Albus Dumbledore, who tried to rally wixen around his Order of the Phoenix. However, the opposite reaction was earned, as wizards and witches filled with fear and anger due to the worrying times, cast jinxes and hexes at the former headmaster.
The public became so angered by lunchtime that talks of resignation were had about the Minister. But the only part of the country's government that was not attacked, at least openly, were the Aurors since they were seen as being at the forefront against the Dark Forces. The DMLE, bathing in public support for the day, spent the evening calm and collected, apart from the rest of the government — which had been trying to refute the attacks sent towards them since the morning hours.
In the other part of the United Kingdom, hidden in the mountains of Wales, Hedwyn Peverell mused over the events of yesterday while pacing back-and-forth, uneasy. As the early afternoon light touched the library of Gwynt Keep. The smell of the centuries-old books and parchments enclosed the room, thanks to the closed windows — to prevent the cold mountainous air from coming in.
“Hedwyn, you'll drill a hole in the floor if you don't stop passing,” Regulus sighed as his words met deaf ears. Since the morning Harry had been this way, tense and troubled. Especially after a letter from James Potter, that talked about what his few friends still in the Order of the Phoenix told him about what they saw at Durham. The accounts had been so terrible it made Hedwyn lose his appetite and put his breakfast aside.
“Bodies upon bodies of innocents layered the street,” said the copy James sent, from the letter written by one Dorcas Meadowes. The letter talked of blood-bathed streets, so much to the point of drenching the ends of robes, as the members of the Order arrived too late to help. “Dorcas said most of it appeared to come from You-Know-Who's personal victims,” James wrote. Apparently, Riddle had been bloodthirsty that night, in a way no one had ever seen him. Meadowes wrote of the fear members of the Order felt when faced with the crimson-eyed wizard. Thankfully for the Order, Dumbledore had put himself in front of his followers as the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named raised his hand to attack them.
Though no member of the Order was severely injured, their encounter with the Dark Lord marked a serious moment of reckoning for the group, and after the moment of reckoning, important members like the Longbottoms, the Prewett brothers and Edgar Bones left the vigilante group. The decision came with an uproar, as other people in the group tried to convince the departing members to stay, but their efforts were ignored.
Now, as Hedwyn paced around, with James' letter tight in his hand, Regulus sat on a chair close to a shelf about Lunar Magic. Rubbing his nose bridge, the heir to the House of Black tried to come up with something to distract his fiancé from worrying about the upcoming confrontation with a very angry Dark Lord. Though the Patronus with a message to Riddle would only be sent days from now, Harry ignored reason and turned to the nonsensical action of pacing endlessly.
The two thought about contacting the Dark Lord by sending him a letter, but no other way they thought of was as secure as a simple Patronus. Regulus, especially, did not want to send an owl to the dark wizard, arguing that the man would most definitely kill the poor bird.
Regulus let Hedwyn with his dramatics and went to the balcony, to breathe some fresh air. With his fiancé lost to his own thoughts, their plans to confront the Dark Lord and the warm air inside the room, Regulus' nerves were bothering him with every passing second.
He closed the door behind him and inhaled the cold Welsh air. His tight shoulders relaxed a bit, and he allowed his body to lean against the closed wooden door. He closed his eyes momentarily, trying to bring himself out of his bad mood. His finger curled and released with tension, and his left eye twitched.
Everything seems to be happening so fast, he thought. So, so fast.
He shook his head, trying to make his apprehension leave his mind. It was clear to him that he was afraid of things going wrong today. Who wouldn't be? He, Regulus Black, heir to the House of Black, was going to threaten the most powerful Dark Lord in recent British history. One would be mad to not be afraid.
But Regulus knew, deep down, that Hedwyn would never let him be harmed. The Dark Lord held no power over him, he was powerful, yes, but Regulus had the Master of Death to shield him. If that was not enough to secure his safety, then nothing else was.
He signed and inhaled the cold air again. He raised his arms and stretched. He let out a groan put his arm back down and shook his head. Regulus turned around and put his hand on the door handle. I can do this, he thought before opening the door and stepping inside.
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He observed the sigils and runes interwoven in an incredible display of precision. Hedwyn looked down at the book in his hand, inspecting the writing inside and looked back to the rune circle.
He saw Regulus rise from your crouched position and shake his wand hand. All this precision left him with hand pain, Hedwyn thought. He put the book inside his pocket as he walked towards his fiancé, careful to not step on the rune circle, and picked Regulus' hand up. He began to massage the hand, trying to make the pain go away.
“Do you wanna sit down?” he asked but Regulus shook his head. “Come here,” he said and hugged Regulus from behind, letting his partner rest against his chest, all the while continuing to massage Regulus' hand.
He heard Regulus groan and giggled. “You shouldn't have stayed crouched for so long, Reg,” he kissed his fiancé's neck and nuzzled against the soft skin.
Regulus let out a tired sigh and leaned more against Hedwyn's chest. Harry then caught both of Regulus' hands, intertwined their fingers, and brought Regulus' arm to his chest in hug.
“Don't worry, darling. When the day is over, I'll take you home and we'll go to bed. What do you think?” Regulus mumbled a ‘yes’ and Hedwyn smiled.
The cold wind passed through the couple and went on around the property. Corvsden, another of the Peverell estates in Wales, was described in a tome about the history of the Peverell family, some family spells, and better times of the year to perform dark rituals, such as the one that would be done on the Dark Lord in a few days.
In a clearing dedicated to rituals, far from the main building and surrounded by ancient-looking trees, there was a ritual circle drawn on a stone platform. The circle was inside a big square with four pedestals placed at each corner of the square, and in each corner the pedestals held a brazier on top, emitting a faint glow that illuminated the clearing dimly. The intricate symbols and patterns on the floor seemed to be etched into the very fabric of the stone underneath it, giving off an otherworldly energy that was both mesmerizing and eerie. The air was thick with the scent of incense, adding to the mystical aura of the space.
“Do you think this will be enough for the ritual? That he won't, somehow, disrupt it?” A concerned Regulus asked.
“Honestly? I don't know, Reggie. Anything can happen when so much magic is being cast, but I do know that we've done our best to prevent it from happening.”
Regulus groaned and rubbed his face with his hands. “We decided to not just kill the bastard instead of using him to our advantage?”
Hedwyn laughed a little when he saw a small pout on Regulus' lips. “We are both too ambitious to let this chance go. But don't worry, darling, after he's gone we'll be free to do as we please.”
Regulus shook his head slightly, but a smile was evident on his face. He ran his fingers through his hair and let out a deep yawn. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at his boyfriend's expression, but Regulus paid no attention to it. Instead, he walked towards the rune circle, his gaze fixed on the stone floor.
As he approached the circle, Regulus looked up to see if he could spot the moon in the sky. As expected, the new moon phase was preventing the celestial body from being seen from Earth. Calmly, he shifted his focus to the runes on the stone and waited patiently. He didn't have to look to know that Hedwyn had moved to the other side of the circle, facing him.
Regulus kneeled on the floor and Harry followed his move. The two closed their eyes and waited. In his mind, Regulus worked on his Occlumency Shields as he did every day for the past month, in order to be more focused during the rituals. As for Hedwyn, he focused on the sounds around him — the weak sound of leaves rustling around the stone platform, the leaves in the trees moving with the wind, the creaking of the old tree bark and his and Regulus' breathing patterns.
With their wands in hand, the boys relaxed their bodies and kept their senses on alert for the right moment. A cold wave of wind came from among the trees. Regulus and Hedwyn stopped breathing for a second. More wind came and blew away the leaves around the stone platform, sending them back towards the trees.
The two men open their eyes, their gaze trapped on each other. “Now,” Harry said while lifting his wand hand, and Regulus followed the motion.
Regulus, with a superficial cut on his left palm, raised his hand and left it right about his sigil. Drops of Regulus' blood dripped on the sigil that represented protection, strength, barrier, and quelling. Meanwhile, Hedwyn's blood dripped onto another sigil that symbolised inhibition, restraining, thwarting, and extinguishing. The drops of blood on the sigils seem to merge with the intricate lines and shapes, creating a mysterious aura around the symbols.
The symbols started to glow a pale carmine, and the wind got colder and harsher around the ritual clearing. Sounds of crows echoed through the woods, though no animal could be seen.
“Mortis inimicum cohibe,” Said Regulus as he lifted his wand and pointed it to the glowing sigil. A dome of pale-coloured red light formed around the rune circle, a prison made of pure magic.
"Corpus suum nobis legavit,” Hedwyn said when he put his wand against the light of the dome. The sigils, runes and symbols all glowered carmine, bathing the inside of the dome in blood-coloured light.
The dome shone in a blinding light so strong it forced Regulus and Hedwyn to close their eyes tightly. When the light dimmed, they two opened their eyes and looked at the ritual circle. Every symbol inside the circle was crimson-coloured.
Harry smiled so wide it almost hurt and Regulus exhaled and relaxed his muscles. It worked. The ritual worked, and now they were one step closer to defeating the Dark Lord.
"We did it!" Harry exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement as he enveloped Regulus in a sweet embrace. The euphoria of their success filled the air as they drew closer to each other. "Soon we will be free of him, love," Harry murmured, his voice filled with hope and tenderness, as he gently brushed his fingers against Regulus' cheek, his touch warm with affection.
Regulus leaned into Harry's touch, savouring the warmth and comfort it brought. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to bask in the tranquillity of the moment, feeling the weight, the anxiety about failing to do the ritual, lifting from his shoulders. In that embrace, amidst the whispers of freedom and the gentle caress of Harry's touch, a profound sense of love and relief washed over them both.