i tried
“Do you know why we’re here?” Evan finally asked as nervously he took another gulp of water, the sound uncomfortably loud in the silent corner they’ve secluded themselves to.
“I was told it was a dinner but that seems less promising by the minute,” Regulus replied evenly as he scanned the room for the millionth time.
For the entirety of the evening, everyone stood silently, waiting in an unspoken queue to speak to the dark Lord.
First, he had spoken to the Russian- Karkaroff; he was a gruff young man, a clear Durmstrang graduate with high connections in the Russian ministry. He was marked and eager for orders as he so clearly simpered at the dark Lord’s bare feet, a fact Regulus couldn’t help but cringe at. He seemed shocked to be called upon first and left immediately at the conclusion of their conversation.
Next were the Carrow twins- Amycus and Alecto; Amycus was a bit ugly with his choppy brown hair and squished face but he held himself highly and was sturdily built with wide shoulders and long legs, not much else could be seen due to his wide and shapeless robes. His twin, Alecto, was the girl version of him, broad shoulders and all, giving her a more masculine look offset only by her heavily made-up face and heels that clicked along the floor wherever she went. She stroked her left forearm for the entirety of their conversation, lovingly running her fingers along that ugly and pulsating dark mark. She didn’t hold herself as highly as her brother did, cowering in front of the Dark Lord, but she had quick reflexes and a sharp tongue and had made a name for herself as a vicious fighter.
There was a brief recess in which he spoke only to his snake that had accompanied him here tonight. The snake was larger than any he’d even seen or heard of, in terms of both length and girth. Its emerald scales caught the light and glimmered, its beauty neutralised by the ivory fangs that protruded dangerously from its mouth dripping with venom. It seemed only natural that Voldemort was a parseltongue and he spoke in hushed tones with the snake that raised itself to his ear, using the chair he sat upon as support. He couldn’t imagine what he had to talk about with it but it seemed enrapturing as he didn’t look away from the creature once.
“That thing is freaky,” Evan muttered and Regulus hushed him sharply- there was no telling how well his or the snakes’ hearing was. He’d spent the day preparing his mental walls anyways, imagining that distant lighthouse on the shore, building up each brick until it resembled a fortress so he didn’t want an inane comment to be the thing that took him down.
Though with each passing second, his resolve started to crumble out of sheer confusion. He was prepared to sit through another dinner, perhaps even share a few words with the wizard, but he had yet to give him anything more than a look and none of the guests stayed for more than a few minutes after they had their turn to speak.
Bellatrix ambled over to him, clearly biding her time until she was called upon for her appointment, “Cousin,” she greeted. She was the only one not in uniform, instead dressed in her usual odd haphazard way with multiple layers and fabrics wrapped all around her.
“Bella,” he replied evenly. “I was wondering when we’d meet, I’ve been on holiday for a week already and you haven’t sent me a message.”
“No well, it doesn’t seem we need our lessons anymore, you’ve done well,” she smiled as if forgetting that the very last time they spoke, she had vanished his vocal cords. He wouldn’t consider them chummy but didn’t see a point in drawing it out anyways.
He smiled tightly and her eyes slid over to Evan, assessing though she didn’t say anything to him, instead walking away and hovering by the dark Lord’s side to remind him that yes, she was still there.
Rosier Sr. was finally called up and Evan immediately tensed, his knuckles turning white around the glass he was holding. His father seemed equally terrified to receive the whole of his attention as he nodded curtly and seriously to everything his Lord said. Once done, he walked over to them.
“Regulus,” he greeted with a nod.
“Sir.”
“I wanted to offer my condolences, I heard about what happened to your father, Orion. You will make a fine head of your House, your mother has already told me of what is to come- I can only hope Evan can be half as successful as you are,” he spoke gruffly, his square jaw ticking once he finished as he eyed Evan who just looked away.
Regulus only nodded and was given a brief chance to say bye to Evan before they too whirled away in a flash of green, leaving him to his own devices once more.
He had come to the conclusion that this was simply put, a death eater meeting, perhaps only with those that were marked- clearly high ranking members of his army. His family, the Blacks, were especially close to the dark Lord, followed by the Malfoys, so he assumed that was the only reason Narcissa was here. Evan, on the other hand, likely wasn’t invited and was only brought along because his father forced him- it was clear that he was desperate to indict Evan to become a marked death eater, just like him.
His army was growing larger and larger by the day and they were becoming much more brazen as near-constant attacks covered the front pages of The Daily Prophet. He had connections from England to Bulgaria to Russia, their Ministries all slowly turning towards his cause and their civilians clueless to all of this that was happening behind the scenes.
He must have deigned to visit his hundreds of followers at some point or else they’d be following a ghost, but these sort of intimate meetings where he actually spoke to them seemed to be for only those who were marked.
Regulus wondered how it was that some of the members became marked like the Carrows or even Karkaroff. He knew already about the Mulcibers and the Rosiers, and even his own family, but what were the requirements? How many would he mark before he stopped doling them out? Were there any more not present here?
Perhaps the whole point was to be scarce with them- if everyone was marked it would cease to hold meaning and his low-level followers would simply have nothing to work towards. The symbol was as much a sign of loyalty as it was notoriety.
Finally Malfoy stepped up but the dark Lord instead gestured for him to follow him into his father’s study down the corridor, their conversation clearly too sensitive for those present. His long hair swished behind him, similar to the snake that followed closely behind them, its body taking up the entire space of the doorway.
He wanted to follow them out of sheer curiosity but Narcissa’s expression stopped him- she looked grave and pale, her face pinched, and Regulus walked over to her, knowing he could perhaps extract something from her instead.
The few remaining people in the room relaxed ever so slightly now that he was not actively watching, Bellatrix leaving her post by his overly large chair in the front of the room to refill her glass, twice.
“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately.
She jumped slightly, as though she had just been dissociating for a bit, “What? Nothing.”
“You’re a horrible liar Cissy,” he nudged her shoulder.
She finally turned to him and her eyes were glassy, “I just- Lucius, he-” she couldn’t finish her words.
He placed a hand on her elbow, “He didn’t hurt you did he?” While normally not the conclusion he would jump to, the last time he had seen his cousin so shaken up was the week of her wedding in which Lucius slapped her during an argument they had been having. She told him in confidence when he had seen her face but she insisted it was a one time thing- though those types of situations rarely were.
“No,” she denied instantly and he relented. She looked around and pulled him into the empty corridor and a little ways away from sharp ears, their only witnesses were the rows of dead elf heads plastered to the wall. “Lucius worries me. You see, I was pregnant-.”
He inhaled sharply, felicitations already on the tip of his tongue before she continued,
“I lost the child. I was only pregnant three weeks before it happened,” she said, a single tear slipping down her porcelain cheek that she quickly wiped away. “This is the second time it's happened.”
He had no idea- hadn’t realised that she was even trying or that she had been losing multiple foetuses. He knew how deeply Narcissa wanted to be a mother and that, coupled with the pressure she was under from her in-laws, made it all the more tragic.
“He is desperate for an heir and in our losses, he’s gone further to the dark Lord and now he’s receiving ‘some mission.’ I don’t even know what that means but he’s more excited than I’ve seen him in weeks which means it can only be something big and I worry for him,” She frowned, her thin brows crinkling together.
She didn’t lose composure easily so even he began to feel her worry about this as it clearly wasn’t some small assignment like the low-level death eaters would be receiving.
He placed a hand on her shoulder, the smooth silk of her robes like water under his palm, “Don’t worry too much- if anything, Lucius is high in his ranks- he won’t do anything to jeopardise one of his most loyal followers. Lucius has secured both of your positions and safety.”
She nodded though clearly uncomfortable by the use of his ‘true’ name-Voldemort. Regulus wasn’t sure what kind of name Voldemort was and whether or not that was his given name. The dark Lord looked so inhuman that Regulus sometimes wasn’t sure if he ever was one or not. Still, when he was not around, he felt okay saying Voldemort instead of the ‘dark Lord,’ perhaps that was his own hidden form of rebellion.
“And I’m sorry for your losses, I wish I had known,” he frowned sympathetically, wishing he could say anything to help her loss but knew words would never be enough.
They heard a door open and shut somewhere distantly and they quickly hurried back into the sitting room everyone else was in, standing casually as though they had been there the whole time.
“My garden has been doing well despite the harsh weather,” Narcissa tittered casually, sipping on her drink, and Regulus was very familiar with this version of ‘polite society’ Narcissa.
After some time, everyone in the house had filtered out except for Bellatrix who had been in conversation with the dark Lord on and off but spent most her time loitering around.
“Regulus Black,” Voldemort finally said and Regulus instantly walked over, bowing his head once more and clasping his sweaty hands behind his back. He had been waiting for this all evening and now that it was happening, he suddenly felt unprepared- gangly and too-large for the room despite the imperious wizard sitting across from him. “How are you this evening?”
“I’m quite well my Lord, honoured to be in your presence and be among like-minded individuals,” he simpered just the appropriate amount.
The other wizard nodded as he scanned the still empty room, “Did you notice anything about those in attendance tonight?” He ran his taloned finger over his wine-full cup and again Regulus wondered if he ate or drank normal foods.
Bellatrix and his mum were gone from the room now, disappearing suddenly, and so it was just the two of them alone, well except for the bloody snake still coiling around his legs, flicking its tongue out every few minutes and roving its slitted eyes over his form.
“They were all marked, my Lord.”
“Correct,” he smiled wide as though Regulus had solved some great problem. “They are the rare few who have proven themselves…useful,” he quirked.
Neither of them spoke so Regulus hurried to break the silence, “I imagine they are honoured to receive the Mark my Lord, it will be something I will strive for.” He was lying straight through his teeth but they seemed to be landing well with him- he didn’t seem all that interested in speaking right now as he began tapping a finger against his armrest impatiently, perhaps that was a good sign that this would end quickly.
“As you should. The future I have in mind for us exceeds anything any witch or wizard before us has done, aside from Salazar Slytherin perhaps, and to do so- one demands loyalty from his followers. Are you aware of the sheer power the mark carries?”
Honestly, he just thought it was a sort of tattoo-like situation so he shook his head vehemently.
“It means we are forever connected, when I call upon you, you come; what I feel, you will feel; and even when you die, it will be etched onto your bones that you followed a great leader- what greater gift is that? And when I continue to reign and your heirs follow your path, they too will know what it was like to be on the right side of history,” he grinned widely, revealing rows of charcoal grey and sharp teeth like a predator that has just spotted an injured prey.
He couldn’t even begin to process what he was prattling on about with the mark and heirs and talk of the future as though he wasn’t going to die when realistically he looked like he only had a few years left considering he must have attended Hogwarts decades ago. Wizards have longer lifespans but certainly not as long as whatever he was imagining.
And then it started- the poking at the periphery of his mind, the gentle prodding against his mental walls that would be barely noticeable to the untrained mind but was like alarm bells in his own. He felt the dark Lord continue to tap, a bit harder in some parts than others and he felt sweat bead along his brow but he remained steadfast.
“Impressive,” he leaned back, retreating. “Quite so for someone your age.”
Regulus tensed, a bit worried he would take it the wrong way, that it was too suspicious for someone his age to be so good at it but he continued, “That is a skill I value among my followers. It takes an incredible amount of discipline and talent to master, a sure sign of their magical capabilities.”
“You flatter me my Lord,” not entirely lying now, he couldn’t help but be a bit pleased- Occlumency was rather difficult, even despite genetic predisposition.
“Yes but I doubt flattery goes very far with you, no? You strike me as the kind of individual who prefers something a bit more concrete than superfluous words,” he assessed, bracing his hands on the arms of his chair to hoist himself up.
“I suppose that is true,” Regulus supplied, taking a single step back to put some distance between them.
“You are the head of your house now as well, that position comes with authority, do you believe yourself capable of taking it on?”
“Yes.”
The house was completely and utterly silent, even the sounds of elf feet padding against the floor or his mothers’ hushed voices a few rooms away was gone- the only sound was the rush of his blood in his ears, roaring in warning at him, begging him to escape but he remained.
“Despite it all, you are young, you need legitimacy if you want others to listen to you. Your father disappointed me in many areas but you have proven yourself interesting,” he bent down close, “I like interesting.”
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and slowly, understanding, thick and sluggish, creeped in the back of his mind.
“Your mother came to me and asked me to give you the mark, desperate to raise your ranks and with your age I was hesitant, but I do believe it could prove useful, do you want the mark Regulus Black?”
He froze despite the mental assault that was raging on in his mind- the mark? Now? And he was just asking? No of course he didn’t want it- but he couldn’t just say that either.
“Y-Yes my Lord,” he forced out through his shaking teeth.
He frowned deeply, as though his response wasn’t yet good enough.
Regulus dipped his hand, clasped his hands even tighter to cease their shaking, “I would be honoured to be gifted the Mark, my Lord. It is my greatest wish and desire, to serve you from now until my last breath.”
“It is binding you understand? When I call, you come; whatever I order, you must carry it out; my wish is your command from now till your last breath. And when you die, the mark will stay with you for I will never cease to exist, to control, to rule,” he finished, the veins in his eyes dilating.
He nodded harshly though the words swirled around in his mind, knocking against his skull and disorienting him.
“You will be the youngest to ever join my ranks- you’ll make a fine experiment,” he jeered as an aside before, “Bellatrix, you may enter,” he said over Regulus’ shoulder and Regulus turned to see her already walking in- she must’ve been waiting at the door.
She didn’t seem her usual self- a bit more serious, more subdued- and it worried him more than when she was manic.
“I must warn you Regulus, the process is not easy, but the rewards you will reap are infinite,” he said, circling around him and pulling out his wand that was curved and bone-white, more unique than any he had ever seen.
He nodded shakily, widening his stance ever so slightly, planting his feet on the ground but when a Cruciatus whipped toward him, he crumpled.He heard himself scream in agony as a cruciatus more powerful than his mum had ever conjured tore through his joints and stretched his limbs in all the wrong directions. He writhed on the floor as he bit his own tongue, trying and failing to suppress his shrieks. It could have been minutes or hours but all he knew was all-encompassing pain.
“It is important to break the spirit,” he announced coldly, his wand held lazily in his hands like this spell was no more difficult than a Lumos.
He finally dropped it and Regulus breathed deeply, scrambling to regain his composure.
I Don't Want This. I Don't Want This. I Don't Want This.
He did it again and it hurt even more this time, Regulus wasn’t entirely sure because he had blacked out from the pain.
He was quickly rennervated, an electric jolt rushed through his body, forcing it back awake and he shook from the force of it.
“Bellatrix,” he said again.
She came up behind him, pulled his limp body up, and forced him into a kneeling position. She was kneeling directly behind him, holding his left arm up and keeping his other behind his back.
“Easy, cousin. It will be over soon,” she whispered softly in his ear.
The dark Lord held both of his arms aloft and began chanting, the words ancient and convoluted, and Regulus just watched in awe and horror as he seemed to suck all the energy in the room up, any warmth that had once existed was whisked away in an instant and he felt ice seep into his veins.
Then, while still speaking, the dark Lord turned and placed the tip of his cold wand against his left forearm.
It started as a small prickle, like being struck with a needle, but then the pain hit a sharp edge, magnifying deeper and deeper until he felt like he was being impaled with a sharp knife. He now understood why Bellatrix was holding him because he kept recoiling, trying to pull his arm back into himself and his body shook but Bellatrix remained steadfast and Voldemort ignored his cries.
Images flashed across his vision- bodies burning, houses crumbling, people screaming- his mind was full of chaos and he couldn’t escape. The faces and sounds morphed until it was Sirius screaming at him, Evan crying, his mum slapping him across the face. He saw Kreacher’s head on the wall and his father’s limp and weak body, lifeless on the bed.
He was screaming now as Voldemort’s blood red eyes came into view, invigorated by the sight of him in so much pain. Bellatrix was saying something but he couldn’t hear anything anymore.
An amputation would have hurt less than this, he was sure.
Deep inside, beyond that physical pain, he felt something pull taut and snap and the pain intensified ten-fold.
He knew it was to do with his magical core- it was already weakened by every single dark spell he had used and now, that darkness was going to become part of him and his body couldn’t handle it.
His wand tip dug harder and harder into his arm that was turning bloody and raw and he felt the tears slide down his cheeks and great currents but the pain was too much to bear.
Dying must be better than this.
He wondered if he could just die from sheer will.
And then it was over.
His wand receded, and he leaned back, standing and looking down at his handiwork.
Regulus’ eyes were still shut when Bellatrix had let go of him and he instantly collapsed on the floor.
He peeked up at the dark Lord who stared down at him with a sneer.
“I hope he was worth it,” he muttered to Bellatrix before instantly disappearing with a large crack. It was like he was never there in the first place.
“Regulus,” Bellatrix hissed, then when he didn’t open his eyes, she shook his arm, “Reg!”
He didn’t want to open his eyes. He didn’t want to see his cousin who had held him down, his mother who had offered him to this madman with no thought for the repercussions- he didn’t want to see his arm.
His life was completely and utterly over now- he was now only a vessel for the dark Lord, nothing more.
If he opened his eyes and saw the mark, he would also see Sirius and James who would hate him for this. He’d see Evan who was destined for this and Barty who was so eager to join the death eaters just for their sake. He saw Dorcas who’d never forgive him and Pandora, lovely and gentle Pandora, who was too pure for this world.
He didn’t dare open his eyes.
Bellatrix left then, shutting the door behind her, and he remained like that for hours, crying and wishing he was dead on the hard wooden floors of the sitting room.
________
He didn’t sleep but hours passed as he lay on that floor in darkness and silence.
It was Kreacher who seemed to remember he was still here.
“Master Regulus,” he said quietly, his small feet padding on the floor as he grew closer.
Regulus could only shake his head.
“Master Regulus is needing to rest in his bed,” he said, putting a small hand on his shoulder. “He is needing to eat too, come with Kreacher,” he urged.
He just shrugged his shoulder away.
“Master Regulus-.”
“Shut up Kreacher!” he shouted then, sitting up so that he and the elf were at eye-level. “Shut up! Leave me alone!” His head swam and his throat was scratchy but he was suddenly furious.
Kreacher cowered in fear and he pulled at his long ears but he listened, backing up and out of the door, clicking it shut behind him.
Regulus tried to readjust his eyes to the brightness that was beginning to seep into the room. His eyes were watery and bleary and the pain in his body threatened to pull him back into foetal position but he stayed up.
Finally, he looked down to his forearm and he had to swallow the bile that rose in his throat and blink back even more tears at the sight of it.
There, encased by pale porcelain skin and wine-red blood, was the dark mark. It was jet- black and sat deeply in his skin as though he was born with it. It took up almost his entire forearm and he could almost imagine that he was staring at someone else’s arm until he saw the small freckle to the right of the mark and his own shaking fingers attached to it.
This was it then.
He crept up the stairs, laid in bed, and shut his eyes once more.
_________
He opened his eyes again to the sound of Sirius and James calling his name- loudly.
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and summoned the mirror to him. He cut the connection by temporarily disabling it with his wand so they at least couldn’t call him anymore. He had no desire to speak to them- ever again quite frankly.
Rolling over to his back, he stared up at the dark ceiling.
He felt like he wasn’t even in his own body anymore. His body was simply a weight keeping him down and the longer he stared at the ceiling, the lighter he became, feeling as though he were floating someplace far away- he liked it better this way- he couldn’t feel any of the aches and pains and burning that his body still shook with.
He felt like he had whenever he was floating in the Black Lake though this time there was no steady voice above him or warm hands under his back to keep him up- just cool darkness.
His arm was dried over with crusted blood and his robes were dirty and dishevelled but it didn’t matter anymore- none of it did.
This was nice…
He shut his eyes once more.
_______
The panic set in later.
He was still sitting in his room, staring out the window at the grey sky, when Kreacher came once more with a tray of food, ordering him to eat.
He was going to refuse but then Kreacher sat down right on the floor in front of him and stared until he gave in and Regulus couldn’t very well wallow with his beady eyes on him so he acquiesced by eating a single piece of dry toast and drinking a glass of water- his stomach seized but he managed to keep it all down.
The haggard elf wasn’t pleased but knew this was all he’d get so he relented, popping away and drowning him in silence once more.
He walked over to the bathroom, feeling incredibly disgusting and used. Without looking in the mirror, he stripped off and went straight into the shower.
He let the lukewarm water fall on his dropped head, feeling it strike the back of his neck, slip down the curve of his spine, and fall, disappearing down the drain and taking with it, blood and pain.
However, the temperate water didn’t offer him that sense of cleanliness, so he adjusted the knob, turning it warmer.
The water reached scalding and steam filled the small washroom, fogging up the mirrors and metal hardware. The heady sensation rushed the blood from his head and he grabbed a flannel and began to wipe harshly at his body. He couldn’t get the feeling of Bella’s sharp fingers off his arm no matter how hard he scrubbed at his skin, unrelenting even when it started to sting. He felt Voldemort’s breath on his ear, his knees against the floor, his forearm shrieking.
On and on he scrubbed, long after the water had run clear.
When he got to his left forearm, he wiped harshly and yet the mark stood out as starkly as ever. Coupled with the steam and heat, he felt lightheaded and panicky and he began rubbing harder, his nails digging into his own flesh through the cloth.
Subconsciously, he knew it wouldn’t simply wash away but his irrational and traumatic mind took over and even when blood poured out from the long scratches he had dug into himself, he didn’t stop.
Only when stars flashed across his eyes did he shut the shower off and hobble out, put his clothes on, and sink to his knees to focus on his breathing.
When he stood up again, he saw that even at rest, the dark mark was so incredibly obvious and he wondered how he was supposed to go back to school. Forgetting the usual suspicious looks he received- he couldn’t possibly hide this from Remus or Sirius but most of all, not James- James who trailed his fingers along his arm in late nights spent in the Room of Requirement or kissed his hands when it was a bit chilly outside by the Lake.
He had to end it with James and the thought was so excruciating that he put a hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs and braced his other against the counter. They had only just admitted they loved each other and now he would have to put an end to their relationship because the world simply couldn’t stand to see him happy.
He needed to stay away from James at all costs because a single look at his hazel eyes or bright smile would cause him to crumple and only deny their inevitable breakup.
James who was good, too good for this world, so much so that he wanted to become an Auror and Regulus was to become the one he would have to fight- he was the enemy in more ways than one.
He looked again at his red eyes and tear-stained face and his roiling emotions forced him to raise a fist at the mirror and punch the spot right over where his face was. Glass shattered and rained on him and the counter but he didn’t care, even despite the cuts that bloomed across his face and hands.
“Get a fucking grip,” he muttered to himself before stepping out and dropping back into his bed.
_________
No one came to check on him before he had to go back to school, not even his own mother who he had only ever heard out of her own room very rarely. He wasn’t quite sure what she was moping on about but it was all well to him- one less thing to deal with.
On the morning of his departure, he simply walked on his own right out of the house, placed a hand on his trunk, and apparated away with a crack loud enough to hurt his own ears.
He refused to go on the train back to school, he’d be stuck in an enclosed space with all the people he never wanted to see again, for their own safety, and forced to deal with them. At least this way, he’d have time to calm himself down and hide away in some nook of the castle before the rest of the school arrived.
He landed on a side avenue of Hogsmeade and with a resizing charm, he shrunk his trunk down and shoved it into the pocket of his thick wool-lined cloak to prepare for his long trek up to the castle.
_________
He had gone straight to his dorm upon arrival and remained hidden inside in silence, grateful for the peace until he heard chatter from down in the Common Room and knew everyone was back.
He had straightened himself out as best he could but he remained a ghastly sight with his grey skin, overlarge eyes standing starkly against his thin face, and his hair wild and unstyled. His robes hung loosely on his frame, his top and trousers both spelled a few inches smaller as well just so they wouldn’t completely slip off.
It didn’t matter anyways- not much seemed to in the grand scheme of things.
The door swung open to reveal a fuming Barty and stressed Evan.
“Excuse me? Miss the train, did you?” Barty frowned, lugging his trunk behind him and dropping it with a thump.
“I woke up late,” Regulus replied evenly, his blood pressure already rising.
“You can’t just do that- at least say something. You know how it is after holidays, you can’t-” he went on.
“Well I did so let’s just drop it!” he snapped a bit too harshly. He tended to have a good grip on his temper, especially with his best friends, but anger came so easily to him now that even when he didn’t intend on it, his outrage rose to the occasion.
He looked so affronted that he walked right back out the door, slamming it behind him for good measure.
Evan looked distressed, glancing at Regulus then back at the door, unsure who to comfort.
“Go after him then,” Regulus decided for him, stalking back to his bed.
“I’m more interested in finding out what’s happened here,” he frowned, going over to his bed and sitting on the edge of it, concern etched into his features.
“Nothing,” Regulus said, turning away, his teeth grinding painfully against each other.
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Evan said again in that infuriatingly calm tone.
Barty could fight- he was good at that, Evan- not so much. He was good at mediating an argument or solving a problem but he never fought and while that was usually a good trait, Regulus much preferred a fight right now.
“Well it doesn’t fucking matter what’s happened because it’s done now,” Regulus seethed.
He could just show Evan his mark, explain what happened, but still, the idea of actually showing anyone the mark caused him physical pain because it would just make it that much more real. He had convinced himself he’s just been living in a nightmare for the past week, that this was just happening to someone else and not him, but if Evan saw it too then it had to be true.
Evan’s sad blue eyes trailed him, “James came by on the train wondering where you were. He said he’s been trying to talk to you all holiday as well, he told us about the present Sirius got you.”
“Couldn’t very well write him a letter could I?” he snapped.
He sighed, deep and patient, “Listen, I’m not going to pry, all I’m saying is that you have all of us on your side, we all care about you and just want to make sure you’re well. We all missed you over break, when Dorcas came over we-.”
“You all met up over the holiday?” he suddenly asked, cutting Evan off.
He hesitated, “We did, we managed a chance-.”
“And what? Didn’t have enough time to invite me with you, it was too difficult this time?” he shot back, knowing he was being unfair and irrational- annoyingly so. He just couldn’t help but imagine if he had gone out with them, maybe he stayed out too late or something, maybe he got run over by a bus- maybe some chance event could’ve changed the events leading up to that night that would change the outcome but it was senseless.
He didn’t think there was a single butterfly who could flap their wings and change the events that have been in motion since his birth.
Evan stood back up, running anxious hands through his blond hair, “It’s not like that, we just-.”
“I’ll be back,” he said, leaving the same way Barty did though he didn’t have any intentions of coming back.
_________
The castle was silent and despite the large corridors and glass windows, it felt uncomfortably small, like the walls were closing in on him with each step he took away from the dungeons.
His breathing quickened as his feet struck the flagstone floor and he managed to dip into alcoves and hide behind tapestries whenever he heard footsteps approaching him, only narrowly missing the new and eager prefects.
It was blissfully quiet by the Ravenclaw Tower and he managed to get up the stairs only slightly winded at the top- slightly better than last year when he’d reach the top drenched in sweat and huffing and puffing for half an hour afterwards.
The owl knocker blinked its wide eyes at him and spoke in a deep imperious voice, “What is stronger than steel but cannot handle the sun?”
Me, he thought ruefully.
“I don’t know, can you just let me in?” he complained but he knew it wouldn’t work.
The owl just repeated the riddle.
He thought for a long moment, running his knuckles along his chin as he thought before he looked out the frosted windows, “Ice,” he answered.
The creature bowed and the door swung open to allow him entry.
He walked right up to Pandora’s dorm- his safe haven at this point.
She was still awake when he entered through her roommates had all since gone to bed.
“Reg,” she grinned, running up and jumping into his arms, suffocating him with her thin arms.
“Dora,” he couldn’t help but smile back but it ended up coming out like a grimace.
She pulled back with a beaming smile on her face, her wildly curly blonde hair haloing her face, and her bright blue eyes shining against the setting sun, “Come,” she ordered, taking his hand in hers and dragging him to her bed.
Already being in here made him feel emotional.
He remembered thinking about Pandora, how she was too pure for this world he was now sucked into…even being near her just felt wrong.
“How are you?” she immediately asked, folding her legs under her and pulling out a bag of sugar quills from her bedside table, the golden sunlight streaming in providing all the illumination they needed.
“I suppose that’s a bit of a dumb question,” she smiled a bit sheepishly, fiddling with the bag before just tearing it open.
He supposed he should be saying something but he felt as speechless as he had when he didn’t have vocal cords, like he just simply couldn’t get any words out.
Thankfully Pandora did all the speaking for him, “Over the holiday, Xeno met my brothers and it was nothing short of a shite show,” she started with a huff, filling the silence, “I was just going out with him as always, meeting him at the apparition point but at the same time he arrived, so had they. They looked at Xeno like he was some sort of space creature then began asking me why his hair was like that or his clothes, I mean really they have no tact.
“Xeno took it all in stride though bless him. I’m happy he loves me because I truly don’t think anyone else would’ve been able to handle it, I mean Rodolphus and Rabastan take absolutely no interest in me during the day but when Xeno shows up they take their chance to interrogate him like it mattered.
“I’m just happy it was them and not dad,” she shook her head, popping a sugar quill in her mouth and moving her hands to his, cradling them and rubbing warmth into them.
“I’m sorry,” he said, though it could have been for a million different things.
She shook her head, shoving the candy to one side of her mouth, “Better it be now than later I suppose, it could’ve been worse but they had to leave quickly so it worked out.”
He only offered a nod of his head.
“On the train, a girl literally fell out the window,” she burst out, remembering, and even he was intrigued.
“I don’t even know what happened but one minute I was looking at the Scottish countryside, the next I saw a girl literally catapulting out the window, thankfully she hung on and her friends all pulled her back in- it would’ve been quite inconvenient if she actually fell out,” she scowled.
“That sounds unfortunate.”
She nodded wildly.
She laid down then and he laid down beside her, staring up at the blue gauzy curtain draped over her bed. He missed the warmth of her hands and he crossed his arms, hugging himself, to try to warm up but it didn’t work- he was perpetually cold.
Much quieter and still not looking at him, she asked, “How was your holiday Reg?”
He swallowed hard but it didn’t do anything to dislodge the lump in his throat as he thought about the living hell he had found himself in, wondering how it had happened, wondering where he had taken a wrong turn and ended up there.
“Fine,” but it didn’t even sound convincing to himself.
“What did you promise me in third year, the first one you ever made me?”
He remembered the night it had happened- he was crying about a letter his mum had sent him, something regarding Sirius and also his marks in classes- she was basically saying all the usual rubbish she did but he hadn’t yet developed that thick skin he had now. He found an abandoned classroom, at least he thought it was, but she was in there and had proclaimed his head full of wrackspurts.
She said she could always tell someone was lying based on them and so he promised to never lie to her. He had meant it as a bit of a sarcastic joke then, unknowing that she was to become his best friend a few months later.
“I’d never lie to you,” he whispered.
“Then why start now?” Her voice was kind and light, a caress that brushed across his icy cheek and he wanted so badly to lean into it.
He could already see her face contort into disgust and the way she would recoil once he bared his scratched and scarred arm to her, the way she would force him out of her room and order him to never speak to her, the way she’d never see him as a friend again.
“I can’t say it,” he forced out, his eyes already prickling painfully.
She laid a small hand over his left forearm and he jerked back violently, it might have been involuntary but even then, just the pressure of her fingers along it burned.
He turned to look at her and she was already looking back at him, a bit pale but smiling nonetheless. Her eyes went glassy and it made him feel a million times worse.
He shook his head like a child near a tantrum, “I can’t.”
A tear fell from his eye, crossing over the bridge of his nose and he wiped it before it fell and he was forced to turn away from Pandora.
He hated that this is what his life had turned into.
“Okay,” she retreated, pulling her hand back and when he thought she was pulling away, her hand instead came to rest on his cheek, her floral scent washing over him, “I know what happened.”
He let her words sink him, grateful and pained all at once, “You saw it?” his voice cracked painfully.
“Fortunately no- I heard Rabastan and Rodolphus talk about it when they got home later that night. I didn’t know for sure, I only caught bits and pieces, but when you weren’t on the train, I knew for sure,” she whispered, “I didn’t tell the others.”
He saw her through tear-stained eyes, her figure warping and dancing, “I didn’t want it,” he had meant it to be quiet but his heart picked up, beating painfully against his ribs as he fought to defend himself, “I didn’t- but he ambushed me, he- my mum told him- she- I mean I tried but-.”
She immediately sat up and pulled his shaking form into her lap, wrapping her arms around him before pulling her quilt up as well, “I know,” she repeated like a mantra in his ear.
Soon his words disappeared and gave away to full on sobs that wracked his body.
He had been holding this all in for so long, anguishing especially over what others would think or say but here Pandora was, holding him, even after everything. He knew he didn’t deserve her- no one did. It was a bit embarrassing to lose composure so easily and violently but he had been teetering on a precarious edge for so long that a simple breeze in one direction, or in this case Pandora, was enough to send him falling.
“I tried Dora, I promise,” he vowed, forcing her to believe him.
“I know you did,” she wiped his face like he was a child, perhaps he still was.
“I tried…” he mumbled quietly.
“I know,” she nodded, lying back down, him still tucked deeply into her side. She remained awake for a long time after, running a finger through his hair and wiping her own tears before they fell onto him.
_______
About an hour later, he stood up to use the restroom and when he went in, he took his robes off as well, not wanting to sleep in them, and a small parchment peeked out of his pocket and his heart dropped.
He pulled the scrap that was no bigger than his hand out and with trembling fingers he opened it,
My love!
Meet me by the Lake for mandatory swimming lessons? Or perhaps mandatory snogging lessons, I have some tips for how you can improve ;)
Just kidding, you’re perfect, but I can’t wait to see you tonight! I love you!
You know who
Then he unfolded another crumpled bit that was attached
Is everything okay? I wrote that over the holiday but you weren’t on the train or at dinner. Meet me at the lake tonight please? I love you
James.
He folded the letter and shoved it away.
_______
He watched from Ravenclaw Tower as James walked down to the lake, sat by the shore as they always did, and waited for him to come. He looked as he always did- beautiful in the moonlight, and he was wearing the scarf Regulus had gifted him. He waited two hours before standing back up and slowly walking back to the castle.
The entire time he didn't do anything except stare out at the Lake. He looked up a few times, stood up and walked in small circles to keep his blood flowing, and rummaged around in his bag but he seemed entirely focused on making sure he didn't miss the moment when Regulus would finally appear.
Regulus had sat by the window and watched him through the coloured glass the entire time, unable to look away though watching did nothing to ease his pain either.
When James left so did he and he fell asleep crying in Pandora’s arms.