Accusations
Evan
If there was one thing Evan genuinely hated about being a Death Eater that was having to face Death daily at such a close distance he could sometimes swear to feel its coldness grazing his own skin, as if suggesting he would be its next victim. It never happened. Both his allies and enemies kept on dying, while he was still there, receiving orders from his master he couldn’t dispute. People died, and sometimes he was the one who took their lives.
That day, he and Barty had been requested for a meeting at the Malfoy Manor. Originally, Regulus should have come with them, though when knocking on his door to tell him to get ready, Evan had found him still sleeping. The serene expression on his face had convinced him to let him rest. He’d left a note on the kitchen table in which he told him to eat a slice of cherry tart for breakfast (they hadn’t baked that, Barty had bought it in the convenience store at the corner of the street). Once arrived, they’d met Bellatrix, Rodolphus and his brother Rabastan. Bellatrix hadn’t asked anything about her cousin’s absence. She’d simply given them the Dark Lord’s orders in waiting for his arrival: an interrogation had to be made. A spy who’d betrayed his master to give information to the Order of the Phoenix, who now deserved to be punished. Evan hated to be the one to take care of interrogations, while Barty just seemed to love it, as if being the one in power gave him a certain importance.
Their accused wasn’t much older than them, he must have been in his early twenties. Evan pulled his wand out of the pocket of his hoodie, the other hand clenched in a fist inside the other one, trying to warm up his stone cold fingers. Barty made the first question, the man refused to answer. Evan waited, fingers clutched around the wand. A single nod from Barty and he knew what he’d have to do. He hated to use that curse, as he remembered Regulus telling him how many times his mother had used it on him and his older brother when they were just children, though he was well aware of what his lord expected from him. He had to follow his commands. For himself. For all of them.
Barty spoke, eyes still pointed on the man tied to a chair in front of them: “Evan”.
Evan clenched his fist tighter in his pocket. Why did that cellar have to be so freaking cold?
He glanced over at his boyfriend, who nodded, impatience glimmering in his brown irises. His jaw twitched, his tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth, which felt so dry he wished he had a glass of water at hand. He couldn’t seem to get the word out of his lips.
“Evan” Barty repeated categorically.
He took a deep breath, the curse rolled off his tongue. “Crucio”.
Evan shut his eyes, wishing he could cover his ears and cut off the man’s screaming. Barty remained steady at his side, as if untouched. Evan knew he didn’t like violence either, though he would use every means in his hands to get to his objective, and that was being finally noticed by the Dark Lord himself, praised for his successes.
“Are you more willing to confess now?” Barty asked, glaring at the man. He met his gaze, eyes filled with defiance. “I’ll never talk”.
“We’ll see about that. Evan”.
Again, Evan casted the curse. Again, the young man screamed, in pain. Again, Barty remained impassive. Again, they received no answers.
Barty kept on ordering him to go on, to keep on trying until they got some kind of result. Evan did, his heart getting heavier at every broken scream. He’d experienced that curse on his own skin just once in his whole life and he knew how horrible it was: it felt as if you could die at any moment, stabbed by a thousand knives. There was no doubt it’d be fruitful.
That young man finally gave in, putting an end to the torture. “Stop, please stop, I’m begging you”.
“Tell us what we want to know and we’ll spare you” Barty said, hands in his pockets.
He’d lied. Bellatrix had ordered them to kill him after getting the information they needed, as he was nothing but a traitor, a burden to get rid off. Therefore, Evan had to avert his gaze from the man’s hopeful eyes as he consented to Barty’s request.
He shifted closer to him, determined to tell him he had no intention of ending him, not after all that pain. Evan wanted to ask Barty whether he would have still wanted to murder him if he’d been a friend of theirs. If he’d been Regulus. Though he knew he couldn’t. They’d chosen to join the Death Eaters knowing well what that decision would involve. Death was their ally, their right hand.
The young man narrated everything about what he’d found out while infiltrating among the members of the Order. It wasn’t much, though he swore it was everything he knew. He was being honest, Evan could tell it from the fear overflowing from his voice.
“Good. See? It wasn’t so difficult to confess” Barty said, pulling out his own wand. For a moment Evan feared he would be the one to cast the final, deadly curse, and grabbed his wrist to stop him. “What are you doing?” Barty hissed in a whisper.
“Don’t. Don’t kill him”.
“He’s a traitor, Evan” Barty looked at him as if he’d just asked him the impossible.
“Please”.
“Why do you even care?”.
“He’s young, he still has the whole of his life ahead of him. He never armed anyone”.
“He’s a fucking spy”.
“Spare him. Just for this once, avoid ending the interrogation in a bloodshed”.
Barty bit the inside of his lip, as if considering his boyfriend’s last words, while the man’s eyes darted from one to the other, back and forth. He seemed to have caught the topic of their brief exchange, his features writhed in a grimace of terror. “Please” he begged again. Evan couldn’t help but pity him. “Barty, come on. Let’s go”.
“If we don’t kill him now, someone else certainly will” Barty observed.
“Fine. I don’t care. But I don’t want another soul to heave on my conscience when there’s no point in taking it”.
Barty glared at the man, then gently slipped out of Evan’s grip. His gaze had softened. He put the wand away. “It’s your lucky day, man”.
He started towards the door, ready to leave that cold prison room behind and head back to the entrance hall, where they were sure Bellatrix and her husband were still awaiting them. He stopped as soon as he noticed Evan wasn’t following him, eyes still fixed on the man’s shaking frame.
“There’s one last thing I want to ask you” Evan spoke directly to him for the first time after entering that inhospitable cell. “While at the Order…” the words got stuck in his throat. After asking himself that question for years, he wasn’t that sure he wanted to find an answer anymore. “Have you ever met a certain Pandora Rosier?”.
Barty’s shoulders stiffened as his hand rested on the doorknob. He wasn’t expecting that question to leave his lips.
“Pandora Rosier… No, I don’t recall anyone with that name. I know a Pandora Lovegood, though, Xenophilius Lovegood’s wife. They got married around a year ago, or something like that, I’m not quite sure. They moved in together, their house hosts some of the Order’s meetings, from time to time”.
Pandora Lovegood. His sister had given up her maiden name.
The name of their family.
His name.
“Is… is she alright?”.
“She looked good the last time I saw her. It’s been weeks, though”.
“Thank you for your answers” Evan mumbled, reaching for Barty, moved by the sudden urge of leaving that room.
“Evan…” Barty started after locking the door behind him.
“Don’t say anything. I knew they would get married. I’m really happy for them, they made a great couple back during our time at Hogwarts” Evan gave him a bitter smile, then turned towards the stairway. She’d given up the name she’d always been so proud of right after her brother’s betrayal. After their father had chosen the dark side too. She’d preferred to pretend her past as a Rosier had never existed, cutting every connection with him and Barty, even with Regulus, who used to be her closest friend among them all. The world would now know her as Pandora Lovegood. But in Evan’s heart she would always be Pandora Rosier. His kind, fierce, beloved sister.
“Hey” Barty stopped him, taking hold of his arm. Evan turned to him, Barty let his hand slide in his, their fingers intertwined. Evan gazed at them, then his eyes were back on Barty’s. “It’s alright. I know it hurts, but things will get better”. Barty pulled him to him before he could add anything, wrapping his arms around him. Evan rested his chin on his shoulder, allowing the familiarity of his touch to bring him the little comfort he needed.
“I lost her, Barty” he murmured.
“Deep inside, she still loves you. I could bet my life on it”.
“I still lost her”.
“But you have me. And Regulus. You’ll never lose us”.
He was right. Evan still had them. His life companions. After the whole world had turned its back on them, they’d been each other’s strength during those troubled years.
Barty hadn’t lied when he’d confidently affirmed he was never going to leave him. But Regulus… Evan had the feeling he was already losing him. They were. Both of them.
“You’re right” he pulled back with the best reassuring smile he could manage. It must not have been so believable. Barty cupped his face, their lips met. Evan let that kiss lull him into the illusion that everything would actually turn out right in the end.
‘I’m here. I’m taking your pain. Give up that burden, let me take care of it’, Barty’s lips seemed to be telling him.
Evan dipped his fingers through his hair, allowing everything else to fade into the background. For a moment, it was just them: him and the boy he loved more than everything.
“Thanks Barty” he said, pulling back.
“I’ll always be here for you, you know that” Barty pressed his forehead to his, hands still on his face. Evan nodded, resting his hand on the back of his head. “I do”.
A scream coming from one of the other cells interrupted that intimate moment, reminding them they weren’t alone in those cold prisons. That death and pain still hovered above them, like a thin, invisible veil. That perhaps, their love wouldn’t be enough to save them, that war left no space for such feelings. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?” Evan proposed, wrapping his arms around himself. A shiver ran down his spine as that desperate scream echoed again in that uncomfortable silence. He took Barty’s hand again, feeling in need of a handhold to cling onto. “I never expected it would be so… hard”.
“None of us did”.
Still, Barty was the only one among them who still really believed that conflict would bring something positive to their world.
⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅
“So?” Bellatrix asked them as soon as they walked past Malfoy Manor’s gates. Wind was blowing among the tree branches, a thick blanket of black clouds covered the sky, blocking the sun rays. Darkness enveloped everything, as if it were late in the afternoon instead of early in the morning. Pine trees lined the wide avenue, like resilient soldiers guarding upon their sovereign. Evan glanced up at the dark sky, cold settled into his bones and he wished he could reach for Barty’s hand once again to warm his up. But he wouldn’t, not in front of her.
Bellatrix stood before them, arms crossed. Evan couldn’t help but think she suited that scenery, with her sharp features and black gown. He felt utterly out of place, shoulders slightly hunched, hands in his pockets, head kept low. He never felt at ease when it came to confronting one of the Dark Lord’s closest subordinates. Barty spoke up, telling her everything she needed to know. As the two of them talked, Evan could feel Rodolphus glowering at him with subtle glances. He met his eyes only for a brief moment, finding them full of questions, curiosity and something that resembled antipathy. They had never exchanged more than only the necessary amount of words, though Evan couldn’t quite comprehend where all that mistrust came from.
He wanted to go home.
He wanted to go home and check on Regulus, make sure he was alright. Make sure he’d eaten something. Evan had to protect him from what had started being the worst threat over his life: himself. Regulus Black had become the bane of his own existence, and Evan had no idea how to deal with the complexity of his pain, and that impotence was killing him.
Barty finished his report, Evan was ready to leave the manor when Bellatrix called him aside.
“Listen Rosier, about Regulus…”.
“He’s sick, that’s why he didn’t come today” he hastened to say. “But he’s fine. Just a fever”.
“Make sure he recovers well, then. I hope his sickness has been the cause of his overthinking and that he’ll go back to the resilient soldier he was” she said, determining the end of that conversation. Evan watched her walk down the street ahead of him, side by side with her husband. Had she really believed his lie? Evan didn’t know that. He just knew he wanted to have as little to do with people like her as possible.
⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅
When he arrived home, the first thing he did was heading upstairs, straight to his room. He was awake. He was fine. Still looking heartbreakingly weak, but fine.
“You could have at least knocked, you know?” Regulus said, not averting his gaze from the book he was holding. He was sitting on the burgundy carpet on the floor, legs crossed, back resting against the bed. He turned the page, completely absorbed in his reading.
‘The Picture Of Dorian Gray’, his favourite novel of all times. Evan had no idea how many times he’d read that, so fond he was of it.
“That book again?” he asked, making an attempt at sounding casual.
“It’s one of the greatest literary masterpieces known to mankind, Evan. You should read it. Barty did, and he liked it”.
“I will. I promise I will” the solemnity in his tone struck Regulus. Evan could see his jaw twitching before he focused back on his novel. Evan was just about to exit the room when he spoke again: “How did it go?”.
“I had to torture a guy to get some information. He confessed, in the end. Barty and I decided to spare him” he replied concisely. He opted to avoid mentioning his little talk with his friend’s cousin, the last thing Evan wanted was for him to feel too exposed and close up on himself once again after hearing about her inquiring about his condition.
“Nothing exciting, then” Regulus synthesised, visibly uninterested.
“Yeah, just the usual shit”. An ‘usual shit’ that had begun to become unbearable. “How was the tart?”.
“It was good. I love strawberry jam”.
Evan’s heart sank. “Cherry” he muttered, mouth suddenly dry. “It was cherry jam”. Regulus stopped reading, closing his eyes for a second while realising he’d fucked up. “Yeah. Cherry. I ate some strawberries after, and I mixed things up”. Barty had finished them the previous evening.
“I’m… I think I’m just going to make lunch. You could come help me”.
“I’m a disaster at the stove Evan. I’ll happily help you if you want to eat burnt or overcooked food for lunch” he pasted a light smile on his lips, trying to ease the tension that had fallen upon them.
“Fine. Is there anything in particular you’d like today?”.
Regulus shook his head. “Not really, I leave the choice to you”.
“Come on, give me a little suggestion”.
“Rice and some vegetables”.
“You’ve been preferring rice lately, when you once used to hate it” Evan observed.
“People’s taste in food changes” he simply stated.
He knew he still hated that. He’d just started preferring simple food lately.
“Great. Let’s go downstairs then, shall we? I’m sure Barty’d like to tell you more about today and his heated hatred towards traitors”.
“I’ll join you in a minute, just the time to finish this chapter”.
Evan nodded and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. He hated the tense silence that had started developing between them, but what he loathed even more was not knowing how to fucking fill it.
Downstairs, he found Barty sitting at the kitchen table, focused on a book, just like Regulus. He licked his lips, underling a sentence with a pencil. He started fidgeting with it, keeping on reading, his wand lying beside the book. Evan leaned against the doorframe and watched him turn the page, a light smile to curve up his lips. Barty turned the page once again, kept the sign with his finger, wrote some annotations at the header of the page. Completely immersed in the reading, he was too concentrated to notice him just standing there. Evan admired the profile he’d traced so many times, his brown eyes shining with interest. His gaze fell on Barty’s lips as he rested the end of the pencil against them, deep in thought. Barty raised his gaze only as he shifted behind him, turning to look at him. “How’s Regulus?”.
“Still working on that book?” Evan asked, peering at the text he’d browsed through so many times. “By rereading it I’m finding so many details I ignored the first time” he said. “Like, there’s this chapter about-” Evan didn’t let him finish, gently tipping his head back, fingers resting on his cheek, and lowered his mouth to his. He was just about to inch back when Barty reached for the back of his head, pulling him back to him. Evan let his tongue slide between his lips, Barty stood up, Evan wrapped his arms around his waist.
“What was that for?” Barty asked, pulling away briefly.
“Just wanted to kiss you” he shrugged. Kissing him felt great. It always made him feel better when he needed to. A great distraction from whatever was happening with Regulus. “Still want to”. It was incredible how that boy could make Evan feel so alive. He made that fucking world worth living in.
Evan’s lips moved to his jaw, then down to his neck. Barty titled his head to the side, Evan pulled him closer, craving for more, craving for him. His fingers had barely slid under the edge of his shirt when Barty stopped him. “No. We can’t. Moreover, you still haven’t answered my question, Evan” he pointed out, Evan’s lips still on his throat. “How is Regulus?”.
Evan froze. After that slice of heaven here it was again, reality, crashing over him with the intensity of a storm. He took a step back, Barty’s eyes darkened as soon as he noticed his expression. “Is he really that bad?” he dared to ask in a breath.
“He’s starving himself, Barty. He hasn’t eaten anything the whole day. I don’t know what to do” Evan ran his fingers through his hair. “He’s not even trying”.
“I don’t know, Evan. He barely opens up with us anymore, we don’t even know what’s causing this sudden torture he’s inflicting himself. Perhaps time will fix things”.
He sat back at the table, back in front of his book about Dark Arts, the one he’d been studying almost religiously for months, trying to uncover and decipher every secret of that treacherous kind of magic. Evan headed to the stove, pulling a pack of white rice out of the cupboard. As he proceeded to pour it in the pot, he could feel Barty observing every grain of rice falling into the boiling water. His eyes were indecipherable.
⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅
He wasn’t eating. He’d barely touched anything at all, using his fork to move the slices of carrots over the plate, contemplating the meal he wished he didn’t have to face. Evan swallowed another mouthful of rice, whose taste he’d begun to hate, throwing subtle glances at him. He was sure Regulus could feel their eyes on him as he looked down on his plate. He hadn’t eaten more than a single forkful of rice, completely ignoring the vegetables, as if his stomach had closed after receiving that one bit of food.
“What do you think, Reg? Is it good enough? I feel like I overcooked it a little bit”.
“It’s good, yeah” he simply said, avoiding meeting his gaze. “I’m just not that hungry”.
The same fucking excuse, uttered over and over again. How could he think they would still believe it? “I’ve been sick, that’s why I’ve lost my appetite” he added. He was trying to build up lies on nothing, hoping they would leave him alone.
“You know you can’t get better if you don’t even try to, right? If you’re really sick, you can’t just eat nothing. How are you supposed to heal, then?”.
Regulus looked down on the plate with a sad resignation, took another forkful of rice and brought it up to his mouth. Evan watched him chew, slowly, as if it was poison, then he swallowed. He and Barty exchanged a quick glance as he repeated the gesture. He was just about to open his mouth when he sighed, bringing the fork back down.
“I’m sorry” he said, moving the plate forward. “I can’t do this”. He stood up, pushing the chair back. Evan instantly guessed his intentions: leaving the dining table and locking himself up in his room, allowing no one to come in and ask him what the hell was happening. So, he jumped to his feet and grabbed Regulus’ wrist, stopping him from going.
He tried to slip out of Evan’s grip, who clenched his fingers. “You’re not going anywhere, Regulus. Not until you tell us what the fuck is going on with you” he knew he’d sounded a bit too harsh, though he apparently had no alternatives to get him to just talk. He didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, though how could they help him out of that twisted situation if he didn’t even allow them to get close to him?
“Evan, please” Regulus begged again, making another attempt at freeing himself.
“Sit back down. The three of us need to have a little talk”. He obeyed, Evan’s fingers still wrapped tightly around his wrist; he didn’t let go, too afraid he would slip away from them once again. Too afraid he wouldn’t be able to catch him anymore.
“There’s nothing to talk about” he hastened to say. “Absolutely nothing. I’m totally fine. Totally fine”.
“Stop lying to us and to yourself, Reg. You know that’s not true” Evan answered, choosing a more delicate tone.
“I’ve lost my appetite Evan, I already told you. I’m just a bit sick, I’m going to get better and I’ll start eating again. I think it’d be better if I went to get a little more rest”.
“Bullshit. All bullshit. We’ve been living together for months now. Do you really think we haven’t noticed anything?” Barty intervened. “You started eating less and less, then you began to skip meals, and now this”.
“I’m fine, Barty”.
“Fuck Regulus, stop lying!” Evan blurted out, louder than he’d meant to. “You’re starving yourself! You’re disappearing before our eyes, day after day. And we won’t just let that happen”.
“Stop doing it” Regulus muttered, gaze low.
“Doing what?”.
“Trying to save me like this. I don’t need to be rescued, Evan. I said I’m fine”.
Barty’s jaw twitched, Evan noticed him clenching his fist around the fabric of his jeans, under the table.
“I don’t want to be saved. Please, just leave me alone”.
“If you don’t do anything, you’re going to die”.
He remained silent, avoiding meeting their gaze. Evan’s fingers soon became cold against his skin. “No. No” he slowly shook his head. “That’s not going to happen”.
“Evan-”.
He didn’t mean to yell, though panic was starting to overwhelm him, taking control of him and making him act over impulse. “I won’t let you waste your life like this, it’s out of discussion. After everything we fought to build together you can’t just… leave”. He couldn’t picture a future without Regulus in it. He didn’t want to live in such a future.
“Evan…” Barty warned him.
“I’m sorry” Regulus whispered.
“We cannot lose you, why can’t you fucking understand this?!”.
“Evan” Barty’s voice was steadier, more categorical this time. He was warning his boyfriend not to go too further, that yelling wouldn’t bring him anywhere, that it would just make things worse than they already were, make Regulus close up on himself even further, but Evan simply couldn’t help it. “Tell us. At least tell us what’s wrong. There’s a solution to everything, we’ll help you find it-”.
“I already told you I don’t want to be saved. I don’t want a solution”.
“I still don’t see your point on giving up so freaking easily-”.
“Because I’ve had enough!” Regulus yelled, taking him aback. “Because I’m tired, Evan! I’m so fucking tired of how things have been going lately. I’m tired of having to deal with a painful past, a present I can’t change, and a nonexistent future. I’m tired of having to pretend everything’s alright when it clearly isn’t. I’m tired of holding on to nothing. I just want to let go”.
“Why?”.
“Because that’s what I deserve!”.
“What the hell are you talking about?”.
“Everything. I’ve messed up everything. I’ve ruined so many lives, I came to the conclusion I bring nothing but suffering to the people I love the most. I’m the bane of those lives I want to protect so badly” those words broke something inside him.
“But you saved my life! Ours! We wouldn’t be here without you!” Evan’s voice softened, thinned. “You used to be so happy, Reg. What happened?”.
“I’ve lost it. I’ve lost myself. I hate the person I’ve become” his voice broke. Evan’s eyes lingered on his pale face, the dark bags under his eyes in spite of the rest he’d gotten. “I’m sorry” Regulus shook his head slightly.
“Is this the end, then? Are you just going to let it happen?”.
He remained silent once again. A heavy silence Evan just couldn’t bear. The words that rolled off his tongue later had never been supposed to. Though Evan couldn’t manage to stop himself in time. “Fine then. Do you want to let yourself die? Go on then! Come on, go and keep on being selfish. You prefer to die rather than facing reality. And you know what that means? That you’re a coward. Keep on refusing our help, keep on being stubborn. Starve yourself. I don’t give a fuck” his voice scratched his throat as tears streamed down his face.
“You’re right. I’m a coward, and I’m going to die as one. But I don’t care. Not anymore. Excuse me” said this, he rushed out of the room before they could try to stop him. Evan heard his footsteps climbing up the stairs, then a door being shut and locked. He just stood there, arms falling at his sides. He didn’t even notice Barty standing up and reaching for him, not until he wrapped his arms around him. Evan was shaking, chest raising with sobs. Barty wasn’t crying. Though his eyes were empty. Dead. Evan turned, buried his face in his neck. Barty didn’t even try to tell him everything was going to be okay, as he always did. He just let him cry.
“He doesn’t even want to try, Barty. We’re going to lose him”.
“He just needs some time, Evan-”.
“We don’t have that time”. Barty didn’t add anything afterwards.
Evan’s best friend just wanted to give up. Apparently, they weren’t enough of a reason to hold on.