war is upon us
“I’m going to miss you,” Regulus murmured against James’ skin. He nuzzled impossibly closer, as if he could somehow burrow himself under James’ skin so that they’d never have to be apart. Even now with every possible inch of their skin connected, it didn’t feel like enough.
James’ arm tightened around him from behind, his fingers curling into his stomach, right over the scar he still felt a fleeting phantom pain from, “I’m going to miss you more than you could ever imagine.”
They had only just recently gotten ‘back together.’ It felt sort of like it did at the start of their relationship all that time ago with cold and neutral glances at each other during the day with long and passionate nights spent wrapped around one another.
They had chosen to stop putting pressure on eachother, stopped constantly fretting about the future and what roles they’d have to play in this new world, and stopped focusing on anything that didn’t involve them in whatever moment in time they were occupying. The outside world couldn’t affect anything inside of their little bubble and it was his only wish that they could fly away in one too.
Some might call what they were doing ‘avoiding reality’ or being ‘willfully ignorant’ but Regulus just liked to consider it as them being ‘happy.’
Only now, that fantasy was coming to an end because James was leaving in less than a week’s time and Regulus would be forced to spend the following school year without him.
“I can meet you at Hogsmeade and come to your Quidditch matches, it’s not like-.”
“Yeah but it won’t be the same will it?” Regulus huffed, annoyed. James was his constant and he hated that he’d have to live for fleeting moments, having to wait from one Hogsmeade weekend to the next, clinging onto the time they spent together to hold him over. He’d been so addicted to James’ presence that he didn’t think it was even possible to go without him for so long.
He needed James now more than ever to just keep him sane. After the mess with the diadem and Slughorn and Tom Riddle, Regulus felt more disoriented and enlightened all at the same time. It’s like the more information he received, different doors opened and shut in his mind with some questions being answered and others doubling over on themselves leaving him lost.
“After all we’ve been through, what’s a single year, less than that actually? Distance is supposed to make the heart grow fonder anyway,” James murmurs, kissing the shell of his ear making his worries slip away and body to shudder.
“Promise you won’t forget me?” he spoke suddenly, thinking it would come out like a joke but it ended up sounding a bit like a moaning child but still needing to ask for that last bit of reassurance. He knew James wouldn’t forget him but it was easy to get swept up in the real world and he wouldn’t blame James if he just wanted to leave everything Hogwarts-related, grow up, and move on.
James shifted, propping himself on his hands on either side of Regulus’ head, his lean muscles caging him in, and he slowly dropped down, placing a kiss on his forehead, “I,” a kiss on his nose, “promise,” a kiss on each cheek, “I won’t,” his chin next, “forget,” then a searing kiss on his lips, “ you.”
He travelled down the length of his body, kissing and sucking on his neck over the barely healed love bites before trailing down his stomach, stopping only to bring his hands lower, his callouses scraping and grappling at his sides all the while his body trembled in anticipation. He gripped the sheets at his side as James’ face slowly disappeared from view.
Once James hit the waistband of his pants, Regulus lifted his hips off the bed, desperate for friction, and turned his head to the side. He screwed his eyes shut as pulses of heat shot through his body, his toes curling in anticipation as James hooked his fingers under them and pulled them off, tossing them off the side of the bed.
James pressed kisses along his thighs before hooking his arms around them, forcing him still as he lowered his mouth onto him. Stars practically exploded in his vision when James looked up through his dark lashes to make eye contact with him, intensifying the experience ten-fold.
His hips bucked up into James’ mouth and he responded with a hum of satisfaction before bringing his hand down to his cock and Regulus couldn’t contain the moan that was pulled from his throat.
When James, or rather Regulus, finished, James vanished the mess, asked the room for water, and curled up at his side, draping his arm over him, his fingers dancing and tapping along his stomach to an imaginary rhythm.
“I love you,” James whispered, “Nothing will change that for me. Ever. If you need me, call me in the mirror, write me a letter, send up a bloody smoke signal, I don’t care, because I will respond, I promise,” he said with so much sincerity, Regulus almost dared to believe him.
However, his stomach dropped, a cold sinking feeling slowly infusing into his veins, like his body was aware of some threat he wasn’t quite certain of yet, but he pushed it aside and simply replied, “I love you, and I will.” He just wouldn’t make any promises though.
James fell asleep shortly soon after and Regulus was careful to manoeuvre out of the bed so as to not wake him. He couldn’t fall asleep, his mind racing, his heart thumping, and he redressed before moving to sit by the hearth, lighting it on fire with a single thought.
He sat on the soft downy carpet with his legs crossed under him and shut his eyes, letting the orange flames jump and paint abstract images behind his eyelids. He felt like getting some quiet was rare these days with exams and homework and life simply piling up that he needed to just take a moment to breathe and seemingly out of nowhere, a quilt fell onto his shoulders- courtesy of the room apparently, and he tightened it around himself. The room wasn’t cold but his arms and legs still erupted in gooseflesh as his spine skittered.
He couldn’t stop thinking about everything and he wished he could just take his brain out and put it aside for an hour or two, maybe in some cold water to give it a rinse, before putting it back in.
The most terrifying thought of all was the fact that no, this was not simply a single school year problem and once Regulus graduated as well, they would not be happy to live their happily ever after . Absolutely nothing would change for him as he’d just be going from one prison to another and he wondered how James didn’t understand that, was it just his willful ignorance or was he truly optimistic about their outlook?
He breathed through his nose and out his mouth and turned over his shoulder to look at James who was just barely visible on the bed frame.
He turned back, shut his eyes, and thought about the lighthouse at the top of the hill, the waves crashing against the brown sand, and the careful arrangement of his memories stacked atop one another to keep him stable.
__________
The train ride back was…odd to say the least.
Despite everything happening outside the walls of Hogwarts, there was still a sense of isolation out there, the only real news sources being second hand accounts from family members or the Daily Prophet and even those stories would be forgotten about in about two hours by most in favour of focusing on some upcoming exam or Quidditch stats.
So when the train screeched to a stop, everybody stopped what they were doing and stuck their faces to the glass, curiosity morphing into shock when maroon-robed figures whisked onto the train, their boot-covered feet thumping against the floor and their leader shouting commands.
Regulus was in one of the last cars so he only popped his head out of his compartment doors before quickly shutting them and turning back to his friends,
“It’s Aurors,” he rushed out, looking around their compartment in panic as if they had something illicit but all they really had was an obscene amount of sweets, books, and Barty’s sketchbook.
“Why?” Evan hissed.
“I dunno,” Regulus replied absently, hastily sitting down in between his friends and focusing on his breathing.
He felt like they were all coming for him- someone had discovered he had the mark and turned him over to the authorities, Dumbledore probably, or maybe they had already been bought over by the dark Lord and this was some sort of attack- his mind was whirling with possibilities ranging from logical to illogical.
They sat in tense silence before a quick and loud knock sounded on their door before it was pulled open. A tall man with a long beard and auburn hair tightly pulled back in a bun appeared, his blue eyes were focused on a clipboard in front of him but when looked up at them, taking in their green robes, his eyes narrowed. House loyalties ran quite deep for some, lasting them a whole lifetime and the shining Gryffindor pin on his lapel showcased his quite clearly.
He tapped the edge of his clipboard with a quill, “Names?”
They each said their names in turn and the man placed a little check on whatever list he had after they finished. Then, he pulled out his wand and waved it in a small arc across his cart and a blue light shimmered, scanning the room from top to bottom before hitting the floor and bursting apart.
He hmphed.
“What’s this for then?” Barty spoke up, likely the only one with any sort of protection being Crouch Sr.’s son.
“Checkpoint. Just making sure we’re all safe, no one hiding about y’know?” he smirked before stepping back and slamming the door shut.
“Arse,” Dorcas mumbled.
“Since when did we have those?” Pandora asked, worrying her lip.
“Probably since Serpen was killed- hey they ever find out what happened to her?” Regulus questioned aloud. He hadn’t seen anything official or in the papers since but the rumour mills of Hogwarts must’ve caught something.
They each shrugged, murmuring all of the different conspiracies they’d heard, each of them equally unbelievable before dropping it. The wheels of the train screeched, the horn blew and they were off again, each of them loosing a breath and leaning back.
“Hard to imagine that by next year, it’ll be Marlene or even James doing one of these checks,” Dorcas said as she looked away, the view of the window reflected in her dark irises like a film.
“Oh she decided then?” Pandora asked, her tone a mix of delighted and concerned and Regulus realised he hadn’t quite considered that the next class of Aurors was likely to be full of Gryffindors, aside from a few daring Hufflepuffs and a lost Ravenclaw. He didn’t think there was a Slytherin alive that would actually consider working for the Ministry even with the takeover.
“I tried to talk her out of it but she didn't listen. The only thing that makes me feel the slightest bit okay is that she’s got all her friends with her but still,” she huffed. “It’s bloody Dumbledore I tell you- he’s whispering into all their ears like a snake but won’t get off his own arse to do anything about it.”
“ Thank you! ” Regulus declared rather loudly, pleased that at least there’s someone else who can see right through Dumbledore. “I hate him but James thinks he’s a god.”
“Well I’ve only got faith in Merlin and his big ol’ saggy tits,” Barty announced.
They all gave him looks of disgust before going back to what they were doing- sleeping, drawing, or cuddling, depending on who you were looking at.
___________
“And so I don’t understand why it was such a big deal I called a hotdog a sandwich, I mean honestly,” James huffed, running a hand through his rumpled hair.
“What’s a hotdog though?” Regulus asked, taking another bite of his pasta that was balancing precariously on his knees. Normally, he’d take his dinner in one of the more formal areas of the house but when James called him through the mirror, he was compelled to answer immediately in his room.
It wasn’t as though he would even get in trouble for this seeing that his mother wasn’t even home, away on some ‘trip’ he didn’t care to know about.
Kreacher claimed that she had been quite…insane, since he had last been home and he wasn’t surprised- it wasn’t like she had any friends really or family that she regularly spoke to. All she had was the house and her own memories that seemed to torment her, not helped by the endless supply of alcohol in the cellar either.
Therefore, she had apparently gone to that house in France, the same one his dad died in, for a ‘holiday.’ She needed a change of scenery, having grown tired of the dark corners of Grimmauld and for all she disliked Orion, she missed him in her own weird way and thought going there would help her feel closer to him.
Either way, it meant he was free to eat pasta on the floor of his room and talk to James whenever he so pleased.
School ended about three weeks ago and everything had been suspiciously quiet. He hadn’t necessarily heard from anyone and Bellatrix’s summons for dinner tonight only arrived a few hours earlier. He wasn’t worried per say, but it was off putting nonetheless.
“You just let me talk about hotdogs this whole time without asking what they were?” James rolled his eyes, groaning as he flipped to lay on his back.
“I thought you’d eventually explain,” he shrugged.
“So basically it’s a- ow fuck ,” James’ voice, muffled, as he had dropped the mirror directly onto his nose.
“I told you to stop doing that,” Regulus tutted.
“Like I do it on purpose,” he said and the sound of a door opening sounded and James immediately jumped up, “Amma!” He nervously looked from the mirror to the door. Regulus could see a crack in his glasses from here- the mirror really was heavier than it seemed.
“I was just walking by and heard something- you okay?” she asked distantly. Regulus didn’t breath, nervous that she was going to snatch the mirror from James’ hand, wondering why exactly he was talking to Sirius’ death eater little brother or if maybe he was supposed to just hang up and make it seem like James was speaking to himself- he’s certainly done weirder things before.
“Yeah fine, just…talking to someone,” he mumbled, his cheeks rapidly reddening by the moment.
He offered a final weak smile and the door shut again. James released a deep breath and slumped back down, “I’m going to crack soon, I can feel it.”
Regulus wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t entirely sure why James was keeping their relationship a secret from them anyways- the only plausible reason was the obvious one- James was ashamed of him. He told everything to his parents and had a relationship with them that others could only dream of and they were certainly more progressive than most so clearly the only obstacle was that James just didn’t want them to know he was with ‘the death eater little brother.’ The idea seemed a joke to him earlier but now it only made his stomach turn.
He vanished his plate, all appetite gone, “Hey, I think I have to go, get ready for tonight and all that.”
James appeared put out but didn’t protest further, “Oh fine, let me know how it goes after.”
He nodded and shut the mirror but not before hearing James’ “I love you” get cut off. He cringed and sighed, looking out the window at the bleak neighbourhood, the thin streaks of white against the blue sky, and the yolk coloured sun shooting out weak light atop them all.
__________
When he arrived at Bellatrix’s, he didn’t know what sort of dinner he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t whatever was currently happening.
He thought a dinner meant dinner but this was a full-scale party. The instant the door was pulled open by elves he caught sight of multi-coloured drinks whizzing by on silver platters, dozens of guests chatting wildly to each other, and elves running rampant between them all, determined to fulfil their every need.
When he entered via apparition, he almost thought he had somehow ended up at the wrong address as the sound could be heard outside on the porch but the likelihood of that was nearly impossible.
He spotted Narcissa in a lonely corner near a potted plant and a window and went straight for her. She was a sight for sore eyes, her blonde and black hair strung up tightly behind her head, her fine robes hanging loosely on her frame. Her slim fingers cradled a glass and he couldn’t help but notice the purple tint to her skin, like it was paper mache clinging to her bones. And all the while she looked like she was hanging onto life, Lucius was off by the bar, laughing with his friends without a care in the world.
When he stepped into her eye line, she smiled slightly as some of the tension that hung on her dissipated and he placed a reassuring hand on her elbow, “What am I looking at?” he asked, hoping her sister had given her some insight.
“The dark Lord is coming tonight, Bellatrix said he asked her to plan a ‘party’ to apparently ‘boost morale’” she mumbled, taking another long sip of her cherry coloured wine and licking the imprint it left behind on her lips.
His morals were quite low but a party wasn’t what would help cheer his mood. The ‘boost morale’ part wasn’t even because anyone here felt sad about what they were doing but because they wanted to do more and the dark Lord had been holding back, showing some slight bit of restraint when it came to larger scale takeovers and his followers were starting to get antsy.
They shared a single disbelieving look before downing their drinks at the same time and asking the small helpers for refills. He wondered if Narcissa was still trying to get pregnant then- it was interesting because for all the Blacks cared about heirs, they seemed to have immense difficulty actually producing them.
He suddenly thought about Andromeda and wondered what had happened to her. It had been so long since she ran away that he sometimes, regrettably, forgot about her. She was so thoroughly wiped away from all of their memories it was like she was never there at all.
He suspected that her breaking point was the fact that she had gotten pregnant but no one actually confirmed that theory and he was too scared to ever ask. Was it a son or a daughter? Did it inherit the Black’s aristocratic and harsh features or Tonks’ gentle and kind features? He’d only ever seen the man once in passing but he seemed alright. If only his blood was pure, life would’ve turned out different for his long lost cousin.
Around the time he was bordering on buzzed and bored out of his mind, so about ten minutes into the event, Rosier Sr. arrived. He only glanced at him briefly as he entered but was caught off guard by Evan trailing in behind him- he usually never came to these sorts of events.
He immediately went for him but Evan only spared him an empty look before going back to greeting Bellatrix and her husband a little ways away. His steps faltered slightly as Evan continued greeting people, his back straight and hair slicked back. His normally bright blue eyes were dull and dark, his skin pale and sickly, and his face was completely shut off and devoid of emotion. He didn’t look anything like the boy he left behind at the train station a few weeks ago and he eerily reminded him a bit of himself at his lowest.
“Mr. Rosier,” Regulus greeted with a stiff smile before going, “Evan,” he reached a hand out to shake Evan’s as a faux sign of respect and he suppressed a shudder when their hands touched, his fingers were ice cold.
“I’ll leave you boys to your fun, it’s a party after all,” he smirked, turning and leaving them alone in favour of going to the open bar on the opposite side of the room. He was so much like Evan in appearance but nothing like him in the way they acted. Rosier Sr. had bright blue eyes that glinted in a certain light, clean blond hair, and was taller than most, but it was all offset by a certain cruelty that lingered under the surface, offsetting any of his positive features and only making him look all the more sinister.
He gripped Evan to lead him away but he winced and pulled his arm back harshly, lightly running his other hand over the spot.
“What is it?” he instantly asked, noting the way Evan’s face remained contorted.
“My dad- he-” he didn’t even need to finish because Regulus caught on quickly and redirected them out the door.
They walked silently through the house, ignoring the elves that passed by, hoping they were too busy to pay them any mind, and headed towards a set of stairs tucked in under the main staircase.
“Where are we going?” Evan rushed out, his voice barely above a whisper as he practically stepped on the back of Regulus’ shoes- he was much jumpier than usual.
Regulus didn’t respond, instead pulling out his wand and tapping it on the wall in a rhythmic pattern. A door suddenly materialised and Regulus pushed forward as the door melted away and they stepped through before it solidified again.
The basement was dark and muggy and his Lumos was barely strong enough to light the space but he already had the layout memorised and he guided them both to the Potions room they had allocated down here.
It was often dangerous having a Potions workspace up in the living areas of the house for how unpredictable and volatile most Potions were and over the summer, in between getting his arse handed to him by Bellatrix, he’d come down here and brew all types of different potions.
Right now though, he just needed Dittany because it was clear Rosier Sr. had hurt Evan- the thought of it already making him mad but he needed to be calm if he was going to help him, he’s long since learned that being angry won’t change anything.
“Regulus I don’t need-,” he protested under the dim light of the candles hovering above them. They barely had any wax left but it was better than nothing.
“Ev can you just please,” he argued, pulling out a wooden chair and forcing him down on it as he grabbed the glass jar of dittany off a shelf above a row of cauldrons. Thankfully there was nothing brewing at the moment so they wouldn’t be interrupted down here for a good long while.
He sighed and pulled off his coat before unbuttoning his shirt. He cringed as he pulled his arms out of the sleeve and Regulus had to hold back a gasp when he turned around and saw him without his shirt on.
His chest and abdomen were varying shades of purple and yellow. His skin was swollen in some places and sunken in others, he had barely healed cuts along his shoulder and chest and when Regulus’ eyes fell to his arm, he saw the imprint of a hand right under where he had grabbed Evan. He looked absolutely horrific and it was clear Evan knew that as he shut his eyes, unable to even look at himself for too long.
“What,” he gulped, “What happened?”
It was like an unspoken rule among them all- they never spoke of their fathers’ abuse because it was simply understood. It was a normal thing for all of them and none of them particularly liked to speak about it because it was just embarrassing and uncomfortable but this was on an entirely other level. He’d never seen Evan like this and he couldn’t imagine he did anything that brought on this type of pain.
When he picked up the jar, his hands shook and Regulus quickly took it back from him and instead crouched in front of him, “Can I?”
Evan nodded, once, and Regulus took that as permission enough as he scooped up some of the cool gel and began to swipe it across his arm first and Evan flinched once before relaxing.
“He found about…about me…that I’m…” he sighed deeply and it caught in his throat as he tilted his head back and the light caught on a single tear that slid down his cheek, “He found out I’m gay.”
“No” he couldn’t help but gasp. “Does he know about Barty?”
He shook his head erratically, “No. He’s been reading my letters for gods knows how long. Barty and I- we never sign our actual names on letters, it was just supposed to be a joke, but he could tell I was writing to a boy, the pronouns and all that. He confronted me about it and I lied and said no and then my mum-,” his face screwed up as a memory came up to the surface, “She intervened, told him to leave me alone but he turned on her and I just- I admitted to it before telling him to fuck off and well…this is what happened.”
Regulus felt iron coat his tongue as he gnawed the inside of his mouth to keep from shouting or cursing or crying, maybe even a combination of all three. He continued dutifully applying the dittany but it was only making a slight difference, he’d need to get regular refills but he doubted Evan would have any access to that.
He was eternally grateful that Barty wasn’t ousted but it didn’t make this any better. He hated seeing Evan this way, so broken and bruised, when he was the kindest out of all of them and he wanted to kill his father for what he’d done and he was sure he wouldn’t even feel bad about it.
Silence stretched on between them as the party went on above them and Regulus was forced to ask, “Why are you here Evan?”
He didn’t answer for a long while and it was only when Regulus finished and he buttoned up his shirt that he answered with a question of his own, “Isn’t it obvious?” His eyes began to sparkle with unshed tears and his entire being began shaking and Evan who tended to be the most composed of them all, looked like he was a breath away from shattering.
“No?” Regulus replied instantly but the minute the word left his lips, a sinking sensation started in the pit of his stomach as a fist wrapped around his heart and his arm sizzled and cracked and his blood roared and the ground was falling out from under him and-
“I’m getting the dark mark.”
__________
He couldn’t focus for the rest of the evening as the hours ticked by and people slowly started to filter out. Everyone that had left were those who had high standing in society one way or another but weren’t directly involved with the dark Lord. Once upon a time, the Rosiers might have left then too but Rosier Sr. was looking all too comfortable on a chair sitting next to the Lestrange brothers, laughing about something while his son sat next to Regulus, looking like he was about to collapse.
He now understood why his friends had been so quiet or atleast, Barty and Evan. Evan because he was on a complete lockdown and Barty…well he was dealing with his own father and without Evan to use as support, it couldn’t be going too well for him either. Regulus had reached out to him a few times since his mum wasn’t here monitoring his communication but each message had gone unanswered.
“Did it hurt?” Evan whispered. What an innocent question , Regulus thought ruefully, wishing that the momentary pain of receiving the mark was the absolute worst part of it all.
Regulus’ urge to take Evan and leave was strong, it was so overwhelming that he dug his own nails into his palms to keep from reaching out. He gave up on himself a long time ago but Evan…he felt stupid for even trying to delay this fate for him.
He never got a chance to answer because a crack sounded above all the noise in the room and everyone instantly shut their mouths and stood up, their heads already bowed for when Voldemort materialised, looking as snake-like as ever.
Everything at school came rushing back to him and only one thing stuck in his mind- this wasn’t just ‘the dark Lord’ or ‘Voldemort’- he was looking at Tom Riddle, a man who had gone down some dark and twisted path to be the tyrant he was today.
Conversation slowly resumed once he locked himself away in a study with a few others and sooner than he anticipated, all the extra stragglers had gone and the dark Lord came back out to address his inner circle,
“I hope you all enjoyed the evening as it will be the last bit of merriment you will all have for quite some time,” he spoke with his usual raspy and cruel intonation, “As my intel has gathered, it is clear that Dumbledore has begun mobilising forces, recruiting high profile individuals, and has strengthened his counterattacks but worry not for it will be in vain for we are stronger , more powerful , and will prevail over all the mudbloods and blood traitors that claim themselves to be wizards,” his lip curled in disgust “I have given each of you your own missions that I expect to be carried off quickly and efficiently. I feel the tides turning, war is upon us, and I know we will be ready to meet it when it arrives.”
Everyone clapped at the end but Regulus only felt doom, impending doom as he walked towards the precipice of this war he blathered on about.
Bellatrix came by swiftly to inform him of his duties that he’d mostly be forced to complete with her- attacks, robberies, and a few Obliviates- seemingly another usual day, and once she finished, he thought he’d be able to slip out and take Evan with him, but he was dead wrong as she gripped his arm and led him directly to the dark Lord.
“Regulus Black,” he crooned as he looked down upon him, each of his grey sharp teeth on display as he grinned maliciously. The image of young Tom Riddle assaulted him, how could have done this to himself- turned the younger more handsome version of himself into this…snake. It was as if he had sold his soul.
“My Lord,” he bowed slightly before straightening, his hands stiff at his sides. He never knew how to stand in front of him, what seemed right to do. He felt too large for his skin, awkward and gangly, whereas the man opposite him stood assuredly but he still didn’t know what he looked like under the long and billowy raven black robes.
“How are you?” he asked in an uncharacteristically sincere manner as he cocked his head slightly.
“I’m well,” Regulus answered, schooling his expression and mental walls all at once.
“I’m sure you are eager to join your colleagues once you graduate in a year’s time, yes?”
He nodded and agreed, trying to sound sincere all the while he kept Evan in his peripheral. He seemed to notice that as he spoke,
“While I care for each of my supporters, I am not blind to the upcoming generation, how quickly they grow, and from what Bellatrix has told me- you have blossomed since receiving the mark. Tonight, as a gift, I will allow you to assist me in giving the young Rosier his mark as Bellatrix had assisted me with you,” he grinned and there might as well have been blood dripping from his teeth for how cruel it looked.
“I would be honoured to my Lord,” he said before turning to the bathroom and retching into the toilet.
__________
“Just try to breathe, and- just- I’ll be there with you the whole time,” Regulus whispered breathlessly in his ear as he led him to his father’s study.
Evan shook under his touch, all of his misery from before gone as he was left with pure- unadulterated fear coursing through him.
“Evan, you need to calm down, he’ll only make it hurt more if he senses your fear,” it was the last thing he could say before they were in the room and he was forced to shut the door behind him.
Voldemort was standing on the opposite wall, gazing out the window, and he wondered what it was he saw. The way he spoke, acted, even breathed all seemed so otherworldly, it was as if he had belonged to a fantastical world but was cast down and forced to carve out a space for himself on Earth. He couldn’t imagine anything out there was more interesting than the inner workings of his brain and he turned around with a look of regret.
He scanned both of their forms and he felt a swipe at his walls before the force retreated and Regulus was confused for only a beat because Evan doubled over a bit, clutching at the side of his head.
The dark Lord made an odd little noise before quirking his lips and refocused his red eyes onto him, “You may begin,” Voldemort allowed with a swipe of his bony hand and Regulus just blinked at him, frozen in space for a few moments. “You remember the process don’t you?”
Of course he did, it was seared into his brain and he knew it was to begin with the Cruciatus curse but he couldn’t possibly…
Evan stood proudly before him, crisp white shirt, trimmed black trousers, perfect hair, the perfect boy- his best friend- no, he couldn’t possibly- but the dark Lord stared at him and when Regulus looked to Evan he just nodded once, allowing him the mercy of permission and with a painful tearing in his chest, he cast,
“ Crucio! ”
Time seemed to seize and speed at random intervals- his sense of self washed away under the sound of Evan’s screams, his joints popping, his white shirt slowly staining red as Regulus forced Evan down, forced him to submit. He felt like he was watching this all happen from the corner of the room, that the hands around Evan’s arm weren’t his own, but it was getting harder and harder to believe it.
Voldemort spoke the same incantation, moved his arms in that same wide arc, held that sick look on his face as his eyes burned blood red and all the while he relished in Evan’s pain, Regulus’ anger burned hotter and brighter than ever.
He watched as the skull and snake was burned into his arm, how it writhed under the presence of its’ creator and how Voldemort in turn lovingly ran his taloned fingers over it, relishing in branding another human. With a final shove, Evan was knocked down and out, a small mercy.
“You served me well Regulus,” he nodded once, “You will continue to do so.” He left with a crack, swiftly putting an end to all their misery.
Regulus remembered how he had sobbed alone on the floor of this room after he’d received his mark- how low he had been, and gathered a bleeding and crying Evan in his arms. He wrapped his arms up with his wand, careful not to touch his raw skin, and sat against the wall, placing Evan’s head in his lap, casting as many warming and pain relief charms as he could but he knew this hurt was internal.
“I can’t do it,” Evan cried hoarsely in his lap as though he was still experiencing the pain that had since ended.
He was grateful Evan’s eyes were shut so he couldn’t see him crying too.
__________
As it would turn out, Evan’s first mission two weeks later was one of his own and he was to only act as his shadow for the day- to learn how they operated before being able to go off on his own and it helped soothe his worries about Evan for a little bit. He was lucky he had Bellatrix as a guide and as a bit of a buffer between his conflicting realities.
Their job for today was a regrettable one- speak to the bloody werewolves on Voldemort’s behalf and set a meeting time with them. The dark Lord has been encouraging more dark creatures to his side, trying to entice them by saying in ‘his society’ they will have equal rights and other fantastical bullshite but Regulus could see through that facade quickly. Magical creatures would never gain rights, especially not under a man who only valued pureblood witches and wizards. If he couldn’t handle a half-blood or muggle born how could he handle a werewolf or vampire?
Anyhow, him getting involved in missions meant he had more time to spend a way from home and so more often than not, Evan had been staying at Grimmauld with him. It also served as a way for Regulus to keep an eye on him and help offer support or company while he came to terms with the dark mark. The problem was that Evan had yet to tell Barty what happened while it was still entirely possible via a letter sent by Regulus’ owl but he refused and based on recent history, Regulus knew it was better to tell others rather than have them find out about it on their own.
“You’re lying.,” Evan groaned, sending him a grave look before stepping out of the doorway of Grimmauld with him.
“I’m not any more excited to do this than you are,” he replied before taking a deep breath, latching onto Evan, and turning on his heel, whisking them away to the forest he was told a pack was living in.
They landed in a small clearing encircled by large green trees that swayed in the faint breeze that whistled by. He assumed this was the right location, having studied a map the night before, and wondered where exactly he could find them. They were supposed to leave some sort of magical indication to show where they were living but they weren’t prone to listening to directions.
Evan just paced anxiously behind him and Regulus narrowed his eyes against the sun, turning in a slow circle to survey their surroundings. It was actually a rather pretty area and he wouldn’t be against coming here under less life-threatening situations.
“Do we just start shouting or?” Evan wondered aloud.
Through Bellatrix, and a few late nights with Remus, he knew more wild packs like this, the ones who preferred to live on the outskirts of society, were more dangerous than any other average werewolf as their pack gave them strength and their surroundings offered them a primitive sort of freedom where laws and decorum didn’t quite matter anymore.
Apparently the pack leader was a werewolf by the name of Fenrir Greyback who stayed in a half-wolf, half- man state which he wasn’t even entirely sure they were capable of. He was renowned for his cruelty and was exactly the type of creature Voldemort lusted after to take care of business for him.
He knew what he had to do, so with a sigh, he held his palm out and drew a thick line across it with the edge of his wand, watching the blood well up and drip in thick rivulets onto the ground beneath them like a well breaking through the earth.
Evan cursed behind him but Regulus ignored him, casting a charm that sent a heavy wind rushing out from where they were standing.
“You’re not…” Evan complained behind them but Regulus just levelled him a look before going to the edge of the clearing to lean against a tree.
A few odd stunted minutes passed and right before he was about to give up and tell Bellatrix to give this task to some cronie, he heard a twig snap behind him. Instantly, his hand was to his wand in his pocket as he hastily turned around and took a few steps back to maintain distance.
He couldn’t see the figure until they were past the treeline and he instantly knew he was dealing with Greyback. He had a large frame, his arms and upper body heavy with bulk and supported by long thick legs seen through the rags he called clothes. His face was covered in coarse black hair down to the brownbone and his eyes were a shade of midnight blue that faded to grey. His nose twitched as he got closer and he opened his mouth, licking his lips as though he could taste the air, and Regulus was instantly repulsed.
He healed the wound on his hand, flexing it once before starting, “Fenrir.”
He frowned down at him, eyes flicking to Evan in interest before Regulus moved to stand between them, feigning confidence, “Are you ready to talk? You’ve been avoiding messages from the Dark Lord, that won’t bode well for you in the future.”
“I have nothing to say to him. The politics of wizards do not interest me nor my pack,” he crossed his burly arms across his bare chest.
“They will certainly be of interest to you once you hear his plans. Under his regime you will all be able to live a life of your choosing over all those that wish to see you eradicated. The dark Lord sees your power, and your value and wishes to invite you to his cause. We urge you to take advantage of the opportunity presented to you,” he finished, sounding like a salesman and only hoping he was convincing enough.
He considered this for a moment before taking a single step closer, “And what if I just take the two of you now, I would certainly like to take advantage of this opportunity presented to me ,” he mimicked, emitting a loud and painful sound that was supposed to be a laugh.
“I’d advise you against it,” he said coolly.
“Ah and what about my pack?” he leered and a yelp sounded from behind him.
A short wide man had snatched Evan, his arms wrapping around the width of him, holding him a few inches off the ground. He tried to fight it but his arms were pinned at his sides and without access to a wand, he was powerless to their strength. The wolf’s eyes were a shade of burnt gold and his mouth was open to reveal razor sharp canines just inches from Evan’s throat.
“It’s been so long since we’ve received any visitors so you’ll forgive us for being…interested. And as you are on my land, we can do what we please,” he smirked like he had won.
So this was how it was going to go then. Fine.
“Greyback, because we have come here for diplomatic reasons, I will give you thirty seconds to release my friend. If you fail to comply, I will be forced to use whatever power necessary to make you and I will go back to my Lord and tell him what you’ve done here. While you may live in some hovel in the woods, I know you’re not blind to his power nor what he has the potential to do when upset. I’ll begin now.”
He stared at Evan, urging him to remain calm as he tried to free himself from the headlock he was in. His face was burnt red as he struggled to breathe and Regulus’ patience was wearing thin.
“If you even think of attacking one of my men, he will bite into your friend like-.”
It didn’t matter whatever empty threat Fenrir had because Regulus shot a slicing hex right at his head and even he watched in horror at what happened next. His eyes were frozen, blown wide in horror and his mouth had barely grazed Evan’s neck before a chunk from the right side of his head slid off his body and fell to the ground, spurting blood everywhere before his body crumpled as well, bringing Evan down with him.
He hadn’t intended for the spell to be so strong , his magic getting ahead of himself, he had only intended to injure him- to cut enough but not too much.
Fenrir growled behind him and he hastily cast the same spell at him, running backwards as he did it but the wolf easily dodged it and gave way to chase them. He took in great breaths of air as he closed in on them and while he wasn’t quite running yet, Regulus knew they’d be in for it if he started.
To distract him, Regulus threw his tried and true hex, throwing his wand arm out wide as a thick rope of electricity whipped out from his wand to wrap around the wolfs’ thick neck. It momentarily halted his movements as he fought it but his lycanthropy granted him a bit of immunity to spells and superior strength so Regulus struggled to keep the spell on him.
From behind, Evan got up and shouted and a burst of purple light flew from his wand and while Greyback broke through his spell, ripping the rope in half, he began to clutch and claw at his neck as he fell to his knees from whatever Evan had done. Evan grunted with the effort and Regulus casted a Body Bind jinx, trapping him in a kneeling position with his ankles bound and hands tied behind his back.
He roared in anger, his face turning blue and purple, through anger or lack of oxygen, Regulus didn’t know but he raised a fist in the air, releasing his fingers only lightly, and Evan caught on quickly as he let the spell go a bit and Fenrir sagged, breathing heavily and shooting him glares that promised pain.
Regulus closed in on him, enjoying the feeling of actually looking down at him, and said with deadly calm, “You will meet the dark Lord here in exactly one week at nightfall. You will come alone and you will agree to his terms. If you choose not to listen then that is on you but we cannot be responsible for what comes next. You have the chance to join the new world order, I suggest you take it while the offer is still good.”
He turned his back to him, grabbed Evan, and whisked them both away the instant he dropped the spell completely.
They landed in an alley behind diagon as he didn’t want to go home yet and he couldn’t think of anywhere else quick enough.
“You okay?” Regulus asked Evan a bit breathlessly, adrenaline still coursing through him, forcing his body in a never-ending state or fight-or-flight.
He nodded seriously before placing a heavy hand on his shoulder, “Thanks I can’t- I just-.”
He knew what Evan was trying to say- he couldn't believe what they had to do, he didn’t know what he was capable of, he was terrified- all the usual feelings Regulus went through. He only brushed off his comments because the repercussions of what he had done was dawning on him and searing hot shame washed over him. He never wanted his friends to see the sort of brutality he had grown accustomed to but he didn’t have another choice- he was going to kill Evan, or atleast, that’s what he kept telling himself.
The sky was overcast with only the occasional peek of blue between the clouds and Diagon was only mildly packed, mostly families or groups of friends out for a day of shopping, nothing like the craze before the first day of school or the Christmas holiday.
Before exiting the alleyway, Regulus cast a charm to clean all the blood off him and was thankful Evan had chosen to wear a black cloak over himself that helped conceal any remaining residue.
“That was fucking insane,” Evan muttered, running a hand through his hair as they ambled across the slick cobblestones, rain drizzling around them helping to cool his boiling blood. “I mean, I imagined the sort of thing you had to do but I mean, you took a chunk of his head and-.”
“Evan,” he said curtly, perhaps a bit too harshly. “He was going to bite you so I’m not going to apologise for saving your life and I- I didn’t mean to do that.” He said regretfully because it was true- he had never meant to kill anyone but it was a miracle he had even gone this long without having done so.
"Thank you Reg, I didn't mean it like that- I just," Evan slowed to a stop outside of Zonko’s, watching the toys innocently whizz past the windows before asking, “Have you ever-?”
“Let’s agree to not talk about anything we do outside of the mission, okay?” he settled and was relieved when he agreed.
Evan went into Flourish & Blotts under the impression that the books would help soothe him and Regulus let him go off on his own in favour of continuing to walk around, needing to stay on the move for just a bit longer to help him settle down a bit.
He tried to rationalise it to himself- he was going to kill Evan so it had to have been okay but at the same time, hadn’t Regulus gone onto their territory? It was for the dark Lord though so could he really be held entirely responsible?
He only hoped Greyback made the right choice by aligning with the dark Lord because it’s possible the wolf could just expose what he’d done to Regulus, make him out to be the bad guy, and well- Regulus would be well and truly fucked.
The inside of his cheeks were chewed raw and he tried to stop but couldn’t until he rounded a corner and saw Sirius leaned up against a brick wall idly chatting to Frank Longbottom. He tripped on a chip in the pavement and ceased all movement. He felt like if he even breathed too harshly, they’d hear him and come over.
Sirius was wearing a pair of maroon robes, the same kind as he saw the man on the train wearing- the same ones that Aurors wore though he wore his with the sides thrown open to reveal a rumpled white button down shirt and slim black trousers tucked into knee-high leather boots. He had a gold pin stuck to his lapel and a silver necklace that dipped below his shirt.
He never thought he’d see his brother in any sort of uniform again after Hogwarts but here he was, a stiff just like the rest of them.
While Sirius made it work in his own rumpled and haphazard way, the look made Regulus distinctly uncomfortable. Even walking along Diagon, he felt like a criminal and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why they, junior Aurors or whatever they were called, were here- they were on patrol looking for people like him.
He only wished he was with James or something because maybe then he’d feel a bit okay going over to them but he didn’t know Longbottom well, only that he was two years above him and apparently a good duelist. He wasn’t sure he’d take to him well so Regulus just backed up a step and went back the way he’d come, taking the long way back to find Evan and get the hell out of there.
His hands were slick with sweat but he couldn’t help but feel that if he looked down, he’d see them coated in blood for everyone to see, then he’d scream I killed a man today then well, he’d be sent to Azkaban and at least he’d have a little bit of peace and quiet.
“You okay?” Evan asked in the quiet stacks of the store once Regulus had caught up to him.
He didn’t reply.
__________
Looks like the dark Lord was right about some things- the Order was in fact building their ranks and the war was impending. Aurors swarmed the streets just as likely as death eaters did. Attacks were getting more frequent as more people were getting injured or going missing. Chaos threatened to rip the Wizarding world apart and Regulus only hoped he could find some way through it all, to hope that maybe he and James could make it to the other side of all this.
It just didn’t seem so likely anymore when Bellatrix had drunkenly told him one night that the dark Lord chose Lucius to carry out one of his tasks for him instead of her- something about how the dark Lord needed to keep something safe for him and how Bellatrix was ‘obviously the best choice for that’ and because she ‘knew so many hiding spots for things.’
It seemed relatively harmless at first, another drunken tale, but one evening just two weeks before school was to resume, he had the diadem on, because of course he took it back home with him, he was doing research and the same word kept popping up and niggling in the back of his mind. A word that he frequently passed over or previously didn’t care to learn more about.
Even now, he reread the words inscribed into the old book stolen by Slughorn- A horcrux is an object in which a Dark wizard has hidden a detached fragment of his or her soul in order to become immortal.As long as the receptacle remained intact, so too did the soul fragment inside it, keeping the maker anchored to the world of the living. The Horcrux was considered to be by far the most terrible of all Dark Magic and it is warned to all those who dare to attempt this magic that they will never be able to again join the world of the living for they have been damned.
Voldemort spoke often of immortality and it was clear to Regulus now that this was how he had achieved it. There was no other way. The way he looked, acted, his insistence on certain objects- all made sense, but the diadem was the most damning piece of evidence because once he registered that the voice contained within it was the dark Lord, he couldn’t stop hearing it and wondering how something like that was possible. If he hadn’t found it, he wasn’t sure he would’ve given the ‘horcrux’ theory any more than a single thought.
The voice within the diadem seemed to work independently of Voldemort, like it could think freely on its own,it certainly had more mental capacity than a portrait would have. It had a bit of its own personality and held a certain element of superiority as well because even if Regulus was wearing it, the tone it took when it spoke was like he was an idiot. It was like a piece of whoever Tom Riddle used to be, was trapped inside of it.
He carefully took the diadem off and stared in horror at it.
This must be his horcrux. The book went on to say that there was only one recording of a man being able to create a horcrux and that it wasn’t likely possible that more than one could be made from a single soul. Therefore, it made sense that the diadem was the only horcrux that he created but then why would Voldemort entrust Lucius with another such object of extreme importance? Lucius, who was on his way to being his right hand man- when keeping a random book hidden was a relatively easy and mundane task.
He couldn’t possibly have made two…
It was impossible.
No, not impossible, just fucking insane.