Grimmauld Place
Regulus sat at his father’s desk, opposite the family solicitor. The man had been talking for over an hour now, and Regulus was still none the wiser on why exactly he was here.
“With that said, your family vault is one of the most highly protected. And with such heirlooms, you are going to want to provide a healthy sum for the protection to remain. I would steadily recommend hiring an accountant, and a financial advisor. Your father had both, as you are likely well aware, they were indeed fired just a few weeks before… Nonetheless, you should see to it that they are replaced, in order to protect your family’s fortune. As for the will, we have managed to substantiate your parent’s wishes to keep the disowned descendants from receiving any property or possessions. However, there is still the matter of your uncle. Your mother had opened a case against your uncle’s will a few years ago that we are still trying to dispute. Did you wish to keep the case open?”
Regulus stared at the man, taking a moment to realise he had asked a question. He quickly nodded his head, trying to appear as if he was taking in what he was saying, and acting like he hadn’t been thinking about Bach’s Art of Fugue for the past hour instead.
The solicitor frowned slightly, “Right. So you do wish we keep working on that case?”
Regulus nodded again, the solicitor started to frown again so Regulus opened his mouth, “Make it a priority.”
“A priority? Are you sure? The firm is quite stacked at the moment, and with your parent’s recent demise, a lot of people have started trying to make a claim against your family’s name, not to mention your property in-”
“I said make it a priority. I want your firm working solely on my family’s cases until further notice.”
“I’m afraid, Mr. Black, that we have a lot of clients and it is just not possible to do such a thing.”
“You have clients more important than the Black name?”
“Well, no-”
“Then you will make your most important client happy or be fired for losing my business… I can pay you and everything else at the firm double, if that helps.”
The man smiled, holding his hand out, “Thank you very much, Mr. Black. We’ll get right on it.”
Regulus hesitantly shook his solicitor’s hand, earning a small shocked look from the man at the weak handshake Regulus gave.
He grabbed his suitcase and hat, “I’ll see myself out, thank you for your time, Mr. Black.”
Regulus stayed in his father’s chair, “See you soon, Gregory.”
The solicitor shut the office door behind him, speedily walking through the old house, “Can’t even remember my name, the little brat.”
Regulus stood up as soon as the office door shut, and made his way to the other side of the desk. He stared at the empty chair, picturing his father in it once again.
“Hello father.”
The chair said nothing back.
“Mother is drunk again. Don’t be mad, it was my fault, I got an Acceptable on my last Transfiguration essay.”
The chair said nothing back.
“I know”, Regulus’ voice went quieter, almost a whisper, “Black’s do better than that. Black’s do better than that. Black’s do better than that.”
The chair said nothing back.
Regulus bit his lip hard, “I’ll go study now.”
He bowed his head and left the office, shutting the door gently behind him. The door was still engraved with ‘Orion Black’. The solicitor had caught that, asked when he was getting it changed.
Regulus touched the shiny, silver letters, tracing them with his finger. He pictured the words changing, spelling out his own name instead.
He immediately squeezed his eyes tight, and steadily walked down the hall, keeping them shut as he quickly made his way to the sitting room and sat down at the piano.
He breathed gently, slower and slower as he lifted the cover up and started to play.
Soon the room was filled with the sound of Claire De Lune, and Regulus slipped away into the practised song.
During the fifth time playing the song, the fireplace started to crackle and Dorcas’ face appeared in the flames. They stayed silent until the song was finished.
“That’s your comfort song, isn’t it? The moon one? You feeling alright?”
Regulus turned to the fireplace, standing up from the piano bench and moving to crouch by the fire.
“Had an impromptu visit from my family’s solicitor. He stayed for an hour and a half.”
“Eesh”, Dorcas clicked her teeth, “Long meeting.”
Regulus nodded, “What’s that word you call me? The one that means dull?”
“Dryshite?”
“Yes. He’s that.”
Dorcas laughed.
Regulus bit down a smile, “Why are you here?”
Dorcas smirked, turning her head slightly to the side, “Got a new piercing, like it?”
“From Barty’s new employee? They didn’t give you an infection then?”
“Not yet, at least. But I don’t have my hopes up too high.”
Regulus smiled, “They’re an idiot?”
“Exactly”, Dorcas tutted, “Marlene says not to worry about it though.”
“I’ve talked to your girlfriend one time, and even I know that she doesn’t worry enough about anything. Do not take her word for it.”
“Yeah well, it's either listening to under-worrier or over-worrier so I don’t have a great selection of advice.”
Regulus frowned, “I’m the over-worrier?”
“No, you’re the under-worrier.”
Regulus paused for a moment before glaring at Dorcas, “Very funny.”
“Y’know you should go to Barty’s shop.”
Regulus scoffed, “No, that place is full of degenerates.”
“Oh, come on”, Dorcas sighed, “You need to get out there, and the new piercer is an absolute ride!”
Marlene barrelled in, Regulus could see her clutching Dorlene by the shoulders with a completely shocked expression.
“Did you just call James a ride?”
“Marls!” Dorcas hissed.
Regulus frowned, “Potter?”
“No”, Dorcas quickly answered, giving a quick kiss to Marlene and then pushing her out of the way (which Marlene gladly did, once spotting Regulus there), “You don’t know him.”
He nodded, accepting that answer.
Dorcas hummed, staring at Regulus with a smirk.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
The smirk grew, “I said the piercer was really attractive and his name was James, which is a very common name, you know at least four James’, and you immediately think it’s James Potter?”
Regulus froze.
“Regulus”, Dorcas mocked, “Is there something you want to tell me.”
“Bye!” He jumped up and practically sprinted from the room.
Dorcas leaned back in her lounge with a grin, “The wee shite.”