Chapter 1
She spends most of her days in St. Mungos as the war worsens and the deaths only grow. Unfortunately she’s become so accustomed to them, she’s numb as she goes from patient to patient. She’s used to seeing the scars from the cruciatus curse. She can remember when she would flinch at the sight of thin little lines on Sirius’ arms, or even on Regulus’ back.
She always pushes those thoughts to the back of her mind. It’s easier to navigate through the pain of these witches and wizards if she doesn’t let herself think or relate to them. She breaks the news of death to loved ones with a blank face, even if everything inside of her feels like it’s on the edge. Like one little push and she’s gone.
It’s better like this, she decides. It’s hard to be an empathic healer in a world where death is the new normal. Voldemort’s forces have only grown stronger, and she’s needed at the hospital for her healing abilities more than she’s needed in the Order.
She hasn’t seen Lily or James in months, they’re busy at the Potter Manor and trying to nurse James’ parents back to health.
Mary is completely alone—with Sirius and Remus on constant Order missions, and they’d lost contact with Marlene weeks prior.
She is probably dead.
Mary pushes that thought to the side, too, as she tends to a younger witch with bright eyes and a large gash on the side of her arm.
“They went after me because I’m muggleborn,” the little girl said. “They got my parents…”
Mary struggles to keep her composure, it’s so sickening to hear everyone’s stories. They never seem to end—and by the time Mary’s shift is over, she apparates home with a headache and the urge to climb into her bed and never leave it.
The lights are off by the time she arrives home, the flat is empty, the sofa remains untouched. She had big plans for her little house when she graduated Hogwarts, she had so many ideas on what she and her friends would do. The parties they’d have.
Not one of her friends had even been to visit.
Mary goes into the dimly lit kitchen, the only source of light is from the kitchen stove she always forgets to shut off and pours herself a rather large glass of vodka mix. She ends most of her nights like this, alone and drinking entirely too much. She misses her friends. She misses life before the war. She misses…
She sighs, dropping the glass back onto the counter. She can’t see much from out her little kitchen window, but she stares out of it regardless. How much longer can she go like this? How long could a war last? Was Voldemort going to truly massacre every living half-blood and muggleborn?
She shuffles to her bedroom, pulling on a shirt that’s entirely too big for her and she’s not even sure if it belongs to her.
Her mouth feels dry and her head is heavy as she collapses onto her bed—ready to do the same repeating cycle tomorrow while her head hits the pillow.
It seems silly to stay up and think about things that will never change, but she eyes the calendar on the wall and realises it’s sometime in early September. She’s been in such a trance for so long that she blinks when she sees that she hasn’t even been crossing off the days as they pass—it’s pointless, anyway.
Her nights are always restless, because despite the wards surrounding her flat, she’s utterly terrified. Nobody would hear her cry for help, nobody would even notice that she was gone until her next shift.
And it’s why she jolts roughly awake after hearing loud pounding on her door. It has to be a dream, she thinks at first. There’s no way he’s found her—and there’s no way he’s knocking on the door to let her know he’s coming in.
She rolls her eyes at herself. “Get real, Mary,” she mutters, but she’s still skeptical as she flips a light on. It’s past one in the morning, and her heart is pounding as she reaches for her wand.
She tries to think logically—the wards she has up are specific to only let certain people in, but why would Lily or Remus show up at this hour?
It doesn’t make any sense, and it’s exactly why her wand is shaking in her hand. Being alone was obviously lonely at times, but now she’s loathing that she’s always by herself. No one there to have her back incase this isn’t one of her friends at the door.
The glass is one-way, and as Mary peeks through it, her entire body goes slack in shock.
There is absolutely no way—
Another loud knock occurs, and she’s standing there, too stunned to move. Until finally, she yanks the door open. She’d seen Evan Rosier there, it was impossible not to recgonise the mop of blond hair on his head that she would be able to spot anywhere, but what she hadn’t seen was Regulus Black slumped weakly against him, his white shirt stained with blood and sticking to his skin like he’d just gone for a swim.
“What,” she drawled, horrified at the sight of both of them, but especially the state of Regulus. He’s hardly responsive to her voice, but she sees his arm tighten around Evan’s shoulder at her tone. “The fuck.”
“We have nowhere else to go, Macdonald,” Evan says, breathless as if he’s been running. “Please, please let us in.”
“What the fuck,” she repeats. She can’t pull her gaze away from Regulus, his paling face, his wobbling legs.
The last time she’d seen either of them had been in Hogwarts—right before she graduated, and right after Regulus had broken up with her in the middle of the library over Christmas break. Evan and Regulus were a packaged deal, so when Regulus ended things, that meant Evan stopped coming around, too. It’d been nearly a year, and seeing the pair shaking and begging at her doorstep was enough to make her queasy and suspicious.
“Mary,” Evan says, more sharply. Mary blinks at him, he has never called her by her first name before. It’s sort of a foreign thing for them. “Mary, he’s dying. I need your help.”
“Have you been followed?” She finally asks, and Evan shakes his head. “This is so stupid. Fine. Get inside, hurry.”
Evan lugs Regulus over the step, and Mary closes and locks the door after them. She gestures toward the sofa and Evan follows her directions as she turns the lamp on.
In the light, she can see Regulus much clearer. She feels sick at the sight of him, not just his injuries, but having not seen him for so long only for him to appear like… this.
She crouches down to his side immediately, peeling his shirt from his skin as Evan steps to the side. His cuts are deep, and it looks as if he’s been clawed at. The scratches go all up along his side and his chest, and she almost wonders if a fight with his mother had gone too far.
“What happened?” Mary demands, glaring up at Evan. She’s not mad, but she can’t stop the question from sounding like she is. Because how dare they- how dare Regulus her ex boyfriend and his best friend show up on her doorstep (how did they even get past a wards is a better question) and why had they picked her of all people?! After how Regulus had finished things between them… they both had a lot of nerve.
“Is that really important right now?”
“Yes!” She snaps. “I need to know what happened so I know what to treat the wound with. Every magical injury has a different cure. What did this to him?”
“Inferi,” he whispers, and Mary meets his hooded gaze. Regulus is still unresponsive from under her, but she feels him shift. “They tried to drown him.”
That’s all she needs to know for now—she clambers to her feet and goes to the bathroom, quick to grab any equipment she may need. It’s not often she treats an inferi attack, if she’s ever before.
Mary’s quick with her wound cleaning, and even quicker with her magical stitching that has Regulus arching up and groaning so much that she has to demand that Evan holds him down.
By the time she’s finished, the sun has started to rise, and she feels drowsy with sleep. That doesn’t stop her from turning her questioning stare to Evan.
“Don’t start, Macdonald,” he says, like he knows her well enough to predict what she’s going to say.
“Oh, I am most certainly going to start,” she hisses back at him. This is the most shes felt in months, anger, concern, joy for seeing them, annoyance that they thought the right to show up, every emotion she ever felt in her life came rushing back the moment the pair of them were on her front doorstep. “What the fuck , Evan?! What happened? Tell me before I let Moody know you’re here. You’re both still wanted Death Eaters, in case you’ve forgotten. If anyone finds out you’ve been in contact with me-”
“I know,” he sighs. Evan rarely never argues back with her, and it’s why her mouth clamps shut in surprise. “He came to me like that. He told me it was an inferi attack. He couldn’t go home, obviously, he came to me, but we couldn’t stay there either.”
“Why not?” She shakes her head.
“Regulus was attacked by inferi because… he was searching for something to destroy the Dark Lord.”
Mary reels back at that, gaze turning to face an unconscious Regulus, before it lands back on Evan. “I’m sorry. What?”
“They’re called horcruxes,” Evan explains. “Regulus has been researching them for months. He’s been planning on deflecting since… well, since you, I suppose.”
“The fuck is a horcrux?”
“There’s four of them,” another voice says, and Mary whirls around to see Regulus weakly pushing himself up. Even with his paled face and tangled curls, he looks handsome as ever. Mary hates that she feels her heart squeeze. “As far as I know. They are scattered items that each hold a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul, it’s what keeps him immortal. It’s why your side is having such a difficult time defeating him. He can’t be killed until these horcruxes are destroyed.”
Mary doesn’t know what to do—she wants to scream and curse at him, she wants to hug him so tightly and never let him go, and she also wants to burst into tears at the reminder of how close to death he’d been just hours prior. Her hesitation must show on her face, because Regulus manages a small grimace. “Hey, Macdonald.”
“Do not hey Macdonald me-”
“Will you relax on the man?” Evan interjects. “He almost just died.”
“And I’m the reason he’s still alive, so I will speak to him as I please.”
“Mary,” Regulus murmurs, and she turns her head to look at him again. “I know. I’m a prick, I know. But you were all we had left.”
“Well I haven’t betrayed the Dark Lord so I don’t know who this we is you speak of-”
“Evan,” Regulus glares at his best friend, but it’s followed by a wince. “Shut up.”
“And technically you would be an accomplice,” she reminds him, then sighs. “So you’re here. “Now what? You leave in the morning, go back to your hunt?”
“No,” Regulus sighs. Mary keeps her hands firmly placed in her lap. It’s amazing that it’s been so long since she’s seen him and she still feels the urge to reach out and graze her fingers along his face, to feel for any injuries there, to kiss him lightly and whisper that she never wants to see him leave again. “No. I need the Order’s help. Is Dumbledore even aware the Horcrux’s exist?”
“You give him too much credit,” Evan comments.
Mary rolls her eyes, but shakes her head. “I’m not sure. I’m hardly at Order meetings anymore. I’m at St. Mungos now. Voldemort is hurting too many people to keep up.”
“You’re a healer?” Regulus blinks at her. “Like, certified?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Mary shoots at him. “I am very capable of being a healer despite my blood st-”
“ Not I meant,” he says, pointedly. Mary doesn’t know if she wants to smirk or not, even after a near death experience and he still manages to piss her off and argue back. He certainly has a talent. “And you know that. I just… that’s what you wanted. Right?”
“Right.”
Regulus nods, and lets his head fall back against the cushioning of the sofa. “That’s good, then.”
Evan glances between them. “Should I leave or…”
“Mary, if you could set up a meeting with Dumbledore… I would really appreciate it,” Regulus says quickly, and Mary quickly forgets Evan’s statement. “I’d owe you, big time.”
“You already owe me big time,” Mary tells him. “What’s the meeting for?”
Regulus meets her eyes. “Today made me realise that…. I can’t do this on my own. The locket was just the first. And if finding any of the other horcruxes is like that, I’m going to need all of the help I can get.”
“Wait,” she frowns at him. “You did get it, then?”
Regulus raises a brow. “Do you think I almost died over a locket I never received?”
“Yeah, c’mon, Macdonald,” Evan snorts.
“Both of you shut up,” she glowers at them. “You two are the ones who showed up out of the blue after a year, and neither of you have really explained what’s going on. Obviously I’m going to have questions.”
“I have the locket,” Regulus tells her, and she watches him pull out a silver chain with a large yellow pendant dangling from off it. Mary reaches forward to grab it, fingers brushing against his as she turns it over in her hands.
“This is atrocious,” Mary finally comments, much to their confusion. “What? I’m just saying, if you’re going to place your soul into jewelry, at least make it a pretty piece.”
Regulus sighs as if he had been expecting an answer like this, and Evan reclines in his seat, eyes briefly closing before he shakes himself awake again.
“Okay,” she says, nodding and climbing to her feet. “I’ll send Dumbledore a patronus and let him know you wish to meet. Rest for now, okay?”
“Wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” Regulus grumbles, and Mary spins to throw a pillow at him, evoking an immediate grunt in response. “Okay. Merlin.”
“Maniac,” Evan accuses.
“Knob,” Mary retorts, chucking him a blanket. “Goodnight.”
“Night.”
Mary is quick to return to her room, pressing herself flat against her door and struggling to calm her racing heart. It’s hard to believe this is real—months ago Regulus had ended things because their relationship was too complicated and dangerous. And here he was, sleeping in her living room in the loft that was supposed to be theirs .
She squeezes her eyes shut to stop the thoughts from swirling and overtaking her brain, and she casts the patronus with a message for Dumbledore.
Mary doesn’t think she’ll be able to sleep that night—and it’s miraculous that she does end up drifting off. She finds solace in the fact that her ex boyfriend is resting in the room next to her, and she feels herself fading into oblivion with that same very thought.