The birth of Regulus di Angelo
“He's beautiful.” The soft, flowery, and most importantly, Italian voice that he had come to associate with his new mother spoke. She sounded the complete opposite of every time he had heard his mother, Walburga, speak. It almost felt wrong to hear a mother speak with that much love in her voice about her son.
“He's an old soul.” A smooth male voice that actually sounded like it could belong to a man of the House of Black - not his father. Orion Black had never really been that impressive, but his grandfather, Lord Arcturus Black had been. It was the voice of a man who had power and prestige and knew it.
And yet, there was such love audible in his voice he had seldom heard in his grandfather's voice. This, too, almost felt wrong. As if he had been cut off from reality and been put in a different one where everything was alright. He almost snorted at that thought, what were the chances of something like that happening?!
A protective hand caressed his face. “So am I.” his mother hissed warningly, like a mother bear ready to defend her cubs. Like Sirius when they were younger, he still protected him from their mother's endless pit filled with wrath by making her even more angry, so she would forget all about what Regulus had done. He had always had a talent for that.
The voice that belonged to his father chuckled amusedly. “I know, mi angela, I know. It is what caught my attention.”
“Caro dio!” She gasped, “Only that? You only love me for that?!” his mother teased playfully, it was clear to hear that she was relieved though. About what, Regulus did not know. Perhaps about the fact that he wouldn't have to be a bastard during this life? He had known several of them in the past and it had not been a kind fate.
His father hummed as if thinking it over. “Well, that, and those gorgeous looks, of course. You could make Aphrodite jealous, my dear.” Regulus had heard enough of this flirting already. His - former - parents wouldn't be caught dead saying these things. It was unsettling.
His mother choked over her breath. "Idiota!" She scoffed. “Never say those words again! You were alive during the Troyan war, have you learned nothing from your family?”
After a moment of silence, he gasped softly. “Look at his eyes. They are so bright.” Regulus had not even noticed they had been open, for he still saw nigh to nothing. His father felt powerful though, more powerful than any other being but Death he had ever met. It would make sense, considering his mother had called him a God. Regulus was not sure how to feel about that. It probably made him a bastard after all.
“They are golden.” his mother agreed. “He definitely didn't get that from my side of the family.” He took a small moment to mourn his beautiful gray eyes. Golden would do, he supposed. It would perhaps make him look like Barty when the sun shone into his eyes or with a charm to make it look that way, and his friend had always been gorgeous.
Regulus could feel himself be lifted in the air, until a strong pair of arms held him firmly, yet gently. “Nor did he get it from me. The only Gods I know of whose eyes are golden on occasion are Apollo, who must have gotten it from him too or merely because of his domain, and my father.”
Ah, so his father was a Greek God. Good, that was good. Regulus and his family had always preached to Lady Magick, also known as Lady Hekate. His grandfather had golden eyes, but that didn't mean much to him. He had never even thought about trying to glimpse what immortal beings looked like. He doubted it would have ended well. Besides, he probably wouldn't have remembered. He couldn't even remember what Death looked like.
His mother let out a curse in Italian Regulus did not know the meaning of yet, as his French had always been his best foreign language and the only one he had ever actually needed to speak. He was glad he had been taught Italian at all, since otherwise he had to learn an entirely new language and that would just have been annoying.
“You said that Gods do not have DNA.” She accused.
“We do not.” He replied calmly.
“And yet he looks exactly like you, which is dreadful enough!”
He snorted. “It is dreadful that he looks like me? Why, mi angela, I would almost think that you only love me for my money!”
That didn't stop his new mother from continuing her rant, however. “I have been carrying him for nine months and what does he do?? He comes out looking like a complete clone of you with your father's bright lion-looking eyes! As if you made love with your father instead of me! Caro dio!”
His father made the exact same screech as an Inferi (Regulus should know, he was never going to forget that sound anymore). “As if I did WHAT?!” he choked.
“You heard me.” She tutted.
“I would rather eat rocks than do that!”
His mother hummed. “Eat rocks, huh? I see where this is going. Is that some sort of thing your brothers and you have going on with him, now?”
The screeching Inferi sound was back. “My father wouldn't even be able to! And I would never! The mere idea-” The poor God sounded so distressed, Regulus couldn't help but smile amusedly, if a bit sadistically.
He let out a relieved sigh. “See! Mi angela, he has your smile!” He shouted triumphantly, making Regulus's ears hurt and glare at the shape that must be his father. Did the man have no idea how loud he was?
“Well, that's alright then.” his mother lamented, sounding entirely too amused.
His father's hand softly caressed his face. “Bright lion looking eyes, you said?” He pondered out loud. “I can see it. What if we name him Regulus for it?”
His mother stepped closer to him. He could practically FEEL the love on her face both directed at his father and him. “Regulus. Prince. Little king.” She spoke softly, as if getting a use of the name. “It is very on the nose, but Regulus Phylax di Angelo will do.”
“Phylax? You would name our son the word for ‘Protector’ in Ancient Greek?” he asked worriedly. “It is quite a bold name for a hero, and especially so for a child of mine.”
His mother chuckled. “What can I say, mio Dio, it feels right. Besides, the fact he is your son only means that he deserves to have such a positive and regal name. You told me yourself that names have power. Why not give our son one worthy of a brave lion king?”
“I suppose it's better than what his half-siblings have." He pondered, there was a sadness in his voice Regulus recognized all too well. It was the sadness of having lost a family member to their own madness. Regulus couldn't help but think of Bella, who had once been the sweetest person he had ever known. "They do not possess such beautiful eyes or names. I fear they'll one day drive the world into yet another war. Ares has already preached about how much my current children will achieve, which can only mean terrible things."
Regulus was gripped a little more tightly. "Do not compare our son to Mussolini. That man is a disgrazia.”
His father sighed sadly once more. “I suppose you are right, mi angela, I suppose you are right.” After a moment of silence, he continued to speak. “I just hope that the fact he's born on today of all days won't mean anything ominous.”
Regulus did not know what day it was, but he felt like a God of all beings, should know better than to tempt the Fates like that. His mother was right: whoever he was, his father was an idiot.
“Why would it?” She asked. “It is Giorno dei Morti today, after all. You are the God of the Underworld, this should be a good sign. A sign that he will be strong.”
“That is exactly what I am afraid of.” Regulus heard his father whisper while he was being put into his comfortable bed again. Not long after, he was out and when he woke up, it was as if his father had never been there at all.
…….
The next time Regulus saw his father was exactly a year later, on his first birthday. He had had his worries about living like a Muggle infant, for although his mother had somehow gotten the attention of a God by being an old soul like Regulus - which probably meant this wasn't her first life either. Good for her - she did not have any powers on her own.
It was weird to live without an Elf to attend to his every need. To grow up without Kreacher. Every moment, he expected to see his friend's ears go up in joy when he saw him. To feel his comfortable and unique magick surrounding him, and to hear his sarcastic and sassy remarks, which were mostly always about Sirius.
It wouldn't be, though. It wasn't fair for Kreacher if Regulus kept trying to see him where there was no way he could ever be. Regulus had to let it go and wait until he was dead again to see his friend once more. It was what Kreacher would have wanted. It is what Regulus would have wanted if their roles were reversed.
His first birthday - or technically second, depending on how one looked at it, started with his mother singing her favourite song again.
Ave Maria.
She had once softly explained that she loved that song so much because her name was Maria. Regulus had thought it to be an odd name and was surprised to find out it was apparently so popular that there was a song with the same name, but who was he to judge? He had heard of far weirder Pureblood names. Even some in the family history of the House of Black had been considered weird. Even for Pureblood standards.
The beauty of her voice had never ceased to surprise him, however. She kept singing all these songs he had never even heard of, most were in Italian and Latin, so he understood them all, but the melodies and lyrics were entirely new to him. Regulus had grown up surrounded by the classical music he had played himself.
His parents hadn't cared about music at all and Regulus liked playing the piano and violin because he liked the way they sounded that one time Sirius and he sneaked out as children and came across a street performance, so that's what he did. They had allowed it, because many pureblood children played an instrument and the Black family couldn't afford to be left behind in any way.
“You know, Regulus?” She asked him. Regulus always appreciated the fact that she always spoke to him as if he could hear and understand her. He could, but she probably did not know that, and if she did, he appreciated her not mentioning it.
“For better or worse, I do not remember anything of it, but your father once told me that he could feel that in my past life, I had been a child of Aphrodite. That is the Goddess of love. He said that you're an old soul too.” She smiled softly. “Just know that it does not matter who you once were, who you will be, or even what the Fates have in mind for you. I will always love you, and so will Hades.”
Regulus's eyes widened. Over the past year his eyesight had started to become better and better, until he eventually could see just as well as before. Looking at her, he could believe without a doubt that his mother had been a child of the Goddess of love and beauty in her past life. She definitely looked like one. If anyone, she resembled Bella, but with darker eyes and an olive skin tone. Yet, Bella's infamous beauty didn't even come close to his mother.
It had been quite the shock to find out that his father was Hades, the God of the Underworld. Regulus had been pretty sad that he didn't look more like his mother. Alas, it had been like that in his past life too. Sirius had resembled Walburga Black in every way, despite the fact he would deny it vehemently.
Then again, perhaps he shouldn't be that surprised.
Death had mentioned that Regulus would have a touch of her on his very being. He had just assumed that the being was speaking metaphorically, or something like that. How was he supposed to think that she had meant that Regulus would literally be reborn as the Demigod of one of the most powerful Greek Gods in existence?
It was ridiculous, really.
As if summoned by his thoughts and his mother's words, the God suddenly appeared behind his mother.
“Hello, mi angela.” He spoke softly in Italian, making his mother jump-scare.
“Caro dio! What are you, a living shadow?!” She hissed, putting a hand in front of her heart. “Have your parents taught you no manners at all?! To suddenly appear behind a lady and a babe! Shame on you, Hades, shame on you.”
He huffed. “You know enough about my parents to answer that question.”
“Yes, that much is clear.” She accused. “Should Regulus ever turn out as badly mannered as you are, I WILL find a way to haunt you after my death, and WILL find a way to curse you.”
Hades smiled fondly. “I have missed you, mi angela.” his lips gently touched hers, Regulus quickly turned his head away. He did not need to see this.
His mother chuckled. “Aw, mio Dio, I think we have made our little lion king a teensy bit uncomfortable.”
Stepping closer to him, his father hummed softly. “Well, that just won't do now, will it?” He asked, kissing her again.
Regulus turned his entire body to the other side, away from them.
Suddenly, gigantic hands tickled Regulus, until he shrieked with laughter and his cheeks were wet with tears. It was worse than any sort of tickle jinx he had ever felt. Regulus turned around again and glared fiercely at his father, who laughed as if the sight of Regulus's glare was the most hilarious sight he had ever seen.
“Honestly, Maria... How we ever thought that those were my father's eyes, I have no clue! Look at his glare! Look at it! That's all you!”
His mother got a honey sweet smile on her face, looking exactly like cousin Cissa when she was about to verbally kill Lucius again. Regulus always liked it when she did that. “You say the sweetest things, mi amore. If only you wouldn't only say that he looks like me when he's acting like an adorable, tiny monster...”
One of these days, Regulus was going to ask his father just how he managed to shriek like an Inferi.
“He also has your hair colour!”
“We both have the same hair colour, you imbecile.”
Hades grinned triumphantly. “Which means he's got yours!”
Maria sighed fondly. “Un imbecile.” She repeated. “I fell in love with an idiot.”
Hades shrugged without a care in the world and smiled with even less. “But you fell in love with me. That's all that matters.”
“That's cheesy.” She chuckled.
He flicked with his hand. A moment later, a bouquet of blood-red roses appeared out of thin air into his hand. “For you, mi angela.”
Maria sniffed them. “They also smell like blood.” She mentioned happily.
Hades nodded joyfully. “Just the way you like it!”
Smiling in her flowers once more, Maria nodded. “Please tell Persephone I appreciate the gesture.”
Hades chuckled. “I will. She wants to meet Regulus one of these days, you know?”
“She does?”
“Oh, absolutely! She rarely has children of her own. We both do, you see. But when we do, we always love them as if they are our own.” He winced. “Well, when they're not insane, that is.”
Maria huffed judgmentally. “Which happens often?”
Hades shrugged. “What can I say? She's my queen and I'm the king of the Underworld. Death often makes the sanest mortals insane. It would be a wonder if our children will all be completely sane.”
“Madre Mia! Children?! As in more than one?! Hades, just how many of them do you want us to make? Our little lion king is still a LITTLE KING. And you told me yourself that Demigods are hard to raise by their mortal parents because they often are extra special, and are cursed with bad luck?” She sighed. “I do not want our child to almost be eaten by a snake and become insane.”
He waved with his hand. “Doesn't matter. We'll love them enough to end up sane!”
“None of your current children are sane. None. Zero. Do you not love them?!”
Hades sighed, as if this was a discussion they had had multiple times already. “Of course I do! But isn't he lonely? Maria! Look at him! He must want to have siblings!”
He was not wrong. Regulus had always wanted to have little siblings. He would never leave them, and love them unconditionally.
His mother laughed. “Perhaps later, you fool, we'll see what the Fates will have in store for us. For now, let's just sing a song to him and then let him sleep. Our little lion king needs his sleep to grow big and strong later.”
Regulus fell asleep to the sound of Ave Maria once more. Who would have thought that although his mother's voice was beautiful, like a flower come to life, his father's - who was the God of the two of them - was worse than even Sirius’ had been. It reminded him of a somber, funeral song. Not technically impure, but just somber. Not meant for a song like Ave Maria.