Weighted Hearts & Gilded Feathers

Evan was glad for the break the holidays had provided him, spending most of his time in animagus form was not ideal and the heightened senses with teenagers were a huge downfall. Had their mothers not taught them how to clean charms?

It was odd to be home in Britain. He had yet to visit his ancestral home, preferring to stay with Regulus or the Malfoys. Mattheo wanted him to stay at Slytherin castle with him, but Evan was not eager to be under the microscope of his Lord. He required time to decompress.

He did not know what to do during his free time. The last fourteen years of his life had been dedicated to taking care of Mattheo and raising him. Trying to stop the spiralling. Now, Mattheo had his father back and Evan just had... Evan, he guessed. Not that he did not have Reg; they would always be friends, but it was different. They were thrown together by circumstance mostly, first being in the same Hogwarts house, then the Death Eater ranks, then Mattheo.

Evan could not remember ever having a person who was just his, that he did not have to share with all other obligations. Barty might have been that, before the First War, at Hogwarts. They'd been inseparable. However, he'd found out after they returned that Barty had received the kiss. He felt the loss keenly despite not having spoken in years and resented the circumstances under which it happened. Why had their Lord not pulled him out of Hogwarts as soon as he returned, why risk him getting found?

He realized it was a risk you accepted in their line of work. If you could call it that, it is more like vigilantism or being a member of a crusade.

It was a role his family had taken often enough, at least in the last century or so, starting with his great-aunt Vinda, then his father Aristiae, now himself. Though he'd been raised to follow the Dark Lord, his father had gone to school with him and was a member of the original Knights of Walpurgis.

His father wasn't a cruel man, but he wasn't particularly warm either, Evan grew up with the full weight of being a scion of the house of Rosier, despite not being the only son. His mother Diane was originally an Avery and embodied the meaning of her name perfectly, she was Evan's definition of light. Despite all of the darkness that had surrounded her in life. She'd filled their home with warmth and his father had loved her. he wondered if they were a love match, if they had chosen each other or been betrothed but they refused to speak of it. Perhaps they were just one of the lucky ones, who found love with their match, perhaps they'd held a friendship so strong before, that it spilt over after their bonding.

It mattered not, Evan knew that he as well as his younger brother Felix were lucky, blessed even to have parents so in sync with each other, who loved each other as well as them. For all his faults Evan knew without a doubt his father had loved him. He'd seen it on his face only a handful of times, the look he'd given Evan when he knew he'd have to leave made it hard to do so. His mother's health was failing and he was remiss to leave her, but Mattheo needed him, and Reg needed the help. They were practically kids themselves, being entrusted with the heir to their Lord, who had for all intents and purposes disappeared.

They couldn't just leave him, to be taken by someone in the order like the little Khalida was, or shipped off to an orphanage. The least they could do was watch over him, and protect him until it was time to come back to London.

Evan still hadn't gone home, he was afraid to face his ageing father and adult brother, and he didn't have the words for them. He felt guilty for leaving them to deal with Mum's illness alone. Especially Felix, he should've been there for him. For her as well, to sit at her bedside, and run cool cloths over her brow when the fever struck.

It was a sacrifice he knew his father understood but could have come to resent as the years passed. He wanted to meet his brother's wife and children, The only news he'd received all these years came through sparse newspaper clippings.

He'd floo'd straight from Severus' rooms to the Black Manor, and sent a patronus to alert Reg he was waiting. It didnt take him long to return, Evan was surprised he must've left shortly after seeing Mattheo home.

He'd settled himself in the drawing room while he waited, an elf had brought him a cuppa and offered to escort him to his room to rest but he decided to wait and lost himself in the flames of the hearth.

He hadn't noticed when Regulus walked into the room and sat on the couch, it wasn't until he spoke that Evan realized he was no longer alone.

"Are you ever going to go see them?" Regulus asked softly. "Of course... I just don't know what to say to them."

Regulus sighed in response, with a snap of his finger the small elf reappeared with a bottle of firewhiskey and tumblers. Regulus poured their drinks and handed one to Evan before speaking, "I figured you'd need this if we were going to talk."

"Right on,"

"The longer you put off seeing them since your return the worse you'll feel. What happens when you see them at a meeting, and they realize you've been in London but unwilling to actually go home."

"I'm not unwilling to go completely, I just... I don't know what to say to them. My mom..."

"Evan, be happy you have a family to return to. I stayed here at an empty manor while you were away at Hogwarts. I'd be grateful if I could see my disowned brother, I came home to everyone but my cousins, deceased."

This comment gave Evan pause, he'd been so wrapped up in his own guilt that he hadn't spared a moment to imagine how it had been for Regulus. The last true Black. The weight of his lineage probably sat on his shoulders like Atlas.

He looked away unable to meet Regulus' gaze in the face of his inconsideration. "Have you tried to find him?" Evan didn't need to say the name for Regulus to understand who he was speaking about. The silence stretched between them, and once again that unspoken acknowledgement hung in the air so heavy it was almost tangible. They had no one but each other.

________________________________________

The holiday passed quickly, Evan had managed to send missives to his family but didnt have the heart to open the return letters once they'd arrived. He took one look at the wax seal with his family's coat of arms and almost threw the letters in the roaring fireplace. His stomach twisted like the feeling of apparition, and his heart beat erratically. He wondered mildly if he was supposed to feel this anxious about seeing them or if it was an odd feeling to have, they were his family. Then he thought, I brought Mattheo, a boy he'd cared for and loved as if he was his true godfather here to London, to meet his father, a man he'd never met before and also happened to be the darkest most powerful wizard alive. He'd done this to Mattheo, required it of him, but he couldnt even open a letter. It was shameful, he thought, how weak he was being. Mattheo had shown more fortitude in his endeavour than Evan had shown in six months.

He packed the letters to take with him back to Hogwarts.

The holiday wasn't as quiet as he would've liked, and his responsibilities to his Lord multiplied tenfold in preparation and response to the Azkaban release. It was odd, seeing them. They were dishevelled, most of them had gone to school with him or mentored him when he first joined the cause.

Rodolphus had taken care of him as he recovered from receiving his mark, Antonin had tutored him in duelling and helped him with his studies in school when he'd struggled in charms.

The Dark Lord requested Regulus to house them at Black Manor, so there was no escape from the screams they woke up with at night. No escape from Bellatrix's mumbling. Thankfully, perhaps out of familial obligation, Regulus had asked their Lord if they could employ some mind healers. He'd acquiesced, thanking Regulus for the initiative with a quick crucio. Probably because he hadn't thought of it himself. Regulus just stood there, teeth clenched and hands fisted at his sides until it was over. Evan decided then he wasn't going to make any suggestions.

The same evening he'd been asked to stay behind after the others we dismissed. He sent a silent prayer to Circe that he might get through it without being on the receiving end of a curse. He had little to no clue as to the purpose of the meeting.

Once the last of his brethren left the room he kneeled in front of his Lord, eyes lowered in respect. He didnt speak, just waited, his muscles tightened in anxiety and trepidation.

"You may rise, Rosier, we have a lot to talk about."

____________________________________________________

Evan didnt know how to feel about his new assignment as he lay on the bed of the Granger girl with her cat. His lord had told him to spend more time with the witch, to keep an eye on her and the rift between her and the two boys.

He found himself intrigued by her despite her muggle heritage. She wasn't an overtly beautiful girl by any means, and didnt seem to put much stock in her appearance, but she was something. She was more.

He watched as she cried into her pillow at night, allowing him to curl up at the bottom of her bed. She'd been hesitant at first, and her dormmates were not enthusiastic about the extra animal prowling the room. Not that they did much about it, regardless of the "brave" trait of their house, none dared to actually kick him out when he followed Crookshanks in a few days after the new term had started.

He'd realised that despite the friendships the rest of the Gryffindors seemed to enjoy, she was an outsider to them. He did not know how it was before Mattheo had arrived, but it seemed plausible that they had merely accepted her based on her friendship with Harry and Ron.

He'd heard from Severus what happened over the break, that they'd kicked the young witch out the door and let the wards close her out for good. The rest of the house couldn't possibly know about it, but there was a visible distance between the little witch and her friends.

Regardless of the stilted conversations and the physical distance that hadn't been there before, she still helped with their homework and revised their papers.

He realized something fundamentally different between the houses of Slytherin and Gryffindor in the time he'd spent here, their self-righteous attitude had always been evident but the absolute disregard they had for members of their own house was astounding. They claimed to be different. Slytherin may be considered cold and cruel, opportunistic and calculating, but the Gryffindors could be just as self-seeking.

Late one evening in mid-January, they'd all been sitting in the Gryffindor common room working on homework in front of the fire, the Weasley boy was flipping angrily through the Daily Prophet, which had reported on the search for the Azkaban escapees.

He glared angrily at the girl from across the coffee table they were working on, she lifted her head, "What is it, Ron?"

"What does your friend have to say about this? The man who killed my uncles is free! Neville's parent's torturers are free! How do you feel being friends with a criminal?"

"I've told you before Ron we don't talk about such things. His birth was not a crime, it's not fair you keep attacking him for actions that he didn't commit."

"How do you know Hermione, how do you know he's not involved?"

"That's not my business to share Ronald."

"What's really going on between the two of you?"

"What do you mean? He's my friend?"

Ron gave her a straight face, "His familiar follows you through the castle."

Hermione scoffed, leaning back on the couch behind her, "Have you seen Evan? He's attached at the hip to Crooks!"

"That's the thing, Hermione, it's weird, and why does he have a human name?" "Mattheo said he was named after a family friend, I don't know."

Harry, who'd been silent thus far spoke, "His name comes up as Evan Rosier on the map Hermione."

Evan's heart rate picked up at the mention of his name. He prayed they didn't know the spell to forcefully turn him human and remained still, eyes watching the exchange intently.

Hermione stilled and looked at Harry, "Am I supposed to know who that is?"

"He's supposed to be dead. He was there the night my uncles were killed. Said to have been bombarded and crushed under rubble, they just found a mess of blood left behind. Eerily similar fabrication to Pettigrew's if you ask me."

"First off, no one IS asking you, secondly Dumbledore added wards against this happening again, it's highly improbable."

"So the alternative is Mattheo named his familiar after a Death Eater he probably never met? That is definitely more likely," Ron responded rolling his eyes.

"For the brightest witch of her age you sure are daft at times," the Weasley boy stood up and started advancing towards Evan. Despite his anxiety he stayed stationary but began growling the closer the boy got to the bench he and Crookshanks were laying on.

"Ron back away! You're just going to get yourself mauled," Hermione called out scrambling to reach him in time.

"No Hermione, enough is enough, your judgment obviously can't be trusted. We will figure this out once and for all."

Harry had stood up as well, both he and Hermione rushing towards them, Evan hopped off the bench. Fear was a powerful weapon when you used it at the most opportune moment. He raised the hackles along his back, standing proudly, growls rumbling loudly, lips curled and carnassials exposed.

If he wanted to cast on Evan, he was going to have to bleed for it first.