Chapter 9 - Arranged Marriage
The music slowed and couples swayed on the dance floor.
Evan and Amaryllis were slow dancing, giggling at whispered words.
Her hands were around his neck and his on her waist.
Regulus and Barty evacuated to the back corner where they could avoid any gross dancing.
"How about we have a little fun?" Barty suggested with a smirk.
Regulus squinted at the boy, "Depends what you had in mind."
Barty chuckled and disappeared off into the crowd, leaving Regulus to himself.
He watched Evan and Amaryllis wondering why they would want to be so close, why they enjoyed slow dancing.
Regulus wondered what all the fuss was about.
His mind traveled and he pictured dancing.
Dancing close- his arms draped around the boy's neck, pressed against his chest, being held so securely he could never fall apart.
Regulus heart raced. His body grew warmer.
"Here."
Regulus jumped out of his skin as Barty appeared beside him, holding a cup.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya." Barty snickered, handing off the cup.
"What is it?" Regulus quizzed.
He brought the cup to his nose and smelled the sour liquid.
"A fun time. Now stop being a twat and drink up." Barty huffed.
Regulus brought the drink to his lips, letting the liquid steam down his throat and leave a slight burn in its path.
He knew it was some concoction of alcohol, Regulus just hoped it wouldn't kill him the next morning.
Regulus knew his mother was somewhere stewing about Amaryllis dancing with Evan and Regulus being no where to be found, but that was a future Regulus problem.
For now he'd just have a little fun.
~
Once the ball ended, Regulus parted with his friends and went on his way to find his mother.
She stood in the entry way, a displeased look fell on her face as she smelled the liquor on him.
Walburga said nothing, grabbed his arm and apperated them home.
Regulus stumbled as she let go, taking deep breaths to avoid throwing up on the drawing room rug.
"I proposed a marriage offer to the Parkinson's." Walburga spoke, dusting herself off.
Regulus knew the Parkinson's wouldn't reject the offer.
With the Black name the Parkinson's wouldn't be a joke. They'd have the status they wanted.
And his mother- she'd secure their pure bloodline.
Regulus was beside himself. He didn't want to marry Amaryllis. He didn't want to marry anyone. He was only a child.
"I don't want to marry Amaryllis." Regulus quipped.
He must have a death wish- he must.
"I don't remember phrasing it as a question." Walburga sneered.
Regulus didn't know why that made him so mad- why the whole situation made him so angry.
What the fuck did Barty put in that drink.
"You never tried to marry Sirius off. I always knew he was your favorite. Just admit it." Regulus spat.
However true the statement was, Regulus knew he shouldn't have said it.
He knew he shouldn't have even let his brother's name fall from his lips.
The first thing Regulus received was a hard slap to the face.
He brought his hand up to his cheek, his fingers collecting blood as her rings sliced open his skin.
"Do not say his name." Walburga hissed.
Fuck.
Regulus knew he'd fucked up.
He couldn't have kept his mouth shut- couldn't have let it go.
Regulus was supposed to be the smart one.
"You will marry Amaryllis! You will not speak of that traitor ever again! And you will obey me!" She screamed.
"No-"
The word barely left his lips and he was on the ground.
His whole body burst into flames. Every inch of his skin felt like it was ripping apart.
Regulus screamed, a scream only produced by pure agony.
He could feel his insides threaten to burst inside him as he convulsed on the ground.
Regulus had been crucioed more times than he could count on both hands, but he would never get used to the feeling.
Death.
It felt like he was dying, like no matter what he couldn't breathe enough air- couldn't fight it.
Regulus couldn't stop the jerking of his body, smashing into the coffee table.
Over and over and over.
He was almost positive he'd broken something.
The sharp pain in his wrist had him sobbing.
"Make her stop, Regulus. Please, please make her stop."
James' voice drifted into his head.
Regulus' eyes traveled to the boy on the ground beside him, with the most heartbroken expression.
He felt better having James there, even though Regulus knew it was merely a figment of his imagination.
Regulus couldn't do anything. He couldn't make her stop.
All he could do was cry and hope he'd lose consciousness.
He closed his eyes and listened to the humming in the back of his head- a song that helped him sleep.
A song Sirius hummed to him.
It didn't take long before his body gave out and he felt nothing- nothing at all. Just the pure bliss of unconsciousness.
~
Regulus stirred, groaning as he moved the tiniest bit.
Everything hurt, his whole body ached so deeply.
He wished he could just lay there forever until he faded away.
"Master Regulus must get ready or he will miss the train."
Regulus loved Kreacher, but his voice was nails on a chalk board right then.
He would rather die than get up.
Despite having taken a beating- to his ego and body- Regulus pushed himself to sit up.
He refused to open his eyes, already feeling the vertigo.
Regulus tried to push himself up using his hands, but instantly crashed to the ground as pain shot through his whole body.
His wrist was definitely broken, but there was nothing he could do until he got back to Hogwarts.
Regulus attempted to stand to his feet using one hand, which was successful, but not pretty.
He peeled his eyes open just enough to make out the blurry shape of the stairs.
Regulus just had to climb the stairs, take care of- hide- his wounds, and then climb back down.
Easy enough.
Regulus hadn't bothered unpacking the small amount of things he'd brought home.
He was suddenly grateful for that.
Regulus took it one stair at a time, his legs threatening to give out with every step.
By the top, Regulus had regrets. How would he ever make it back down?
He might as well close his eyes and let gravity guide him down the stairs.
Regulus fumbled with the handle of his door before stumbling into his room.
He stripped his clothes, only noticing the blood once the fabric hit the floor.
Regulus pulled on whatever clothes he could find before making his way into the bathroom.
He winced as he stood in the mirror.
It was pretty bad. He was sporting a black eye, bruises peaking out from under his shirt and down his arms.
The cut on his cheek had scabbed over, but the blood had dried to his skin.
His eyes trailed down to his wrist. It was bad, real bad. He was sure it wasn't supposed to bend that way.
Regulus grabbed bandages from the cabinet and wrapped his wrist, tears pricking his eyes from the pain.
The bandages would have to do.
He cleaned up the blood from the cuts he could see.
Not only had Regulus fucked up, he'd really fucked up.
Regulus knew that the rest of the year he spent away at Hogwarts, his mother would stew about their interaction until she would explode the moment he returned for summer.
Why couldn't he have died?
Regulus reached the stairs once again and took a step down.
Instantly the vertigo returned and Regulus lowered to the ground as to not fall down the rest of the flight.
He slowly slid down each step until he reached the bottom.
Regulus breathed shallowly and shakily before standing to his feet.
The drawing room was empty except for Kreacher, his mother no where to be found.
"The Mistress will not be joining us." Kreacher quipped, holding Regulus' bag.
Regulus thanked the gods.
He honestly preferred it this way.
Regulus placed a hand on Kreacher's shoulder and felt that familiar twirling sensation.
Once their feet hit the ground of the station, Regulus keeled over the nearest trash can and emptied his stomach.
His head felt like it was going to explode.
Regulus returned to Kreacher to take his bag.
"Kreacher wishes master Regulus to have a good rest of his year." Kreacher hummed.
Regulus smiled.
"Thank you", he muttered, "I'll see you in a couple of months."
Kreacher nodded and was gone with a pop.
Regulus climbed onto the train and collapsed into the closest empty compartment.
He drifted off wondering if this was all life was. If he'd never get away from his mother's grasp.