fiendfyre
He woke up a mere three hours later, weak sunlight filtering through the clouds like water through a sieve, stretching out his neck from where he was leaning back against the legs of a nearby chair. He looked up to see Elias, still fast asleep across from him, but Opal had disappeared at some point in the night.
In the daze, right after waking up but before consciousness, he felt weightless, but reality roused him quickly enough. He got up and walked to the kitchen and he was just about to summon Kreacher when he saw him round a corner, seemingly already coming for him.
“Is James back?”
He regrettably shook his head, “Not yet, but you are having a guest. She is being in the sitting room. I told her Master Regulus is sleeping but she is still waiting.”
“Who is it?” he hastily asked, downing a glass of water and casting a refreshing charm on himself to appear somewhat presentable though there was nothing to be done about his crumpled up clothing.
“Dorcas Meadowes,” he said and his grave look unnerved Regulus but he didn’t ask him about it and instead went to go see her himself.
She was sitting on the sofa, her bowed between her shoulders, head supported by her hands, and she was rocking back and forth lightly- she must not have even realised she was doing it. He could hear her muttering to herself and when he took a step into the room, her head snapped up to his.
“Dorcas,” he breathed.
She crossed the room in two steps and pulled him into her arms tightly, “Thank you,” she breathed, her hand coming up to cradle the back of his head as she moulded their bodies together, “Thank you so much.” Her shoulders shuddered and when she pulled back, she tried and failed to stifle a sob.
“They told you,” he stated, not even a question at this point.
She nodded, “Dumbledore sent me a Summons right after it happened but the Healers at St. Mungo’s told me they’d call me when she wakes up and I can’t- gods I can’t just sit- fucking Peter Pettigrew- if you hadn’t come, she would have-.” She couldn’t get a single coherent sentence out but he understood her quickly enough. It was the same thoughts James had- he even had after it was all over.
“She’s okay Cas,” he breathed, bringing his hands to hers, clearly vocalising what had happened so that she may dispel the ‘what ifs’ floating around in her head. “Elias is still asleep in the next room, and her parents are well. We made it in time.”
“And what if you hadn’t?” she accused, pulling back from his grasp. Her face had gone hard then, the light coming from the open window casted her face in muted shades of grey, pulling the light from her and leaving only darkness in its wake.
He didn’t know what to say- he couldn’t offer any words of platitude because it was objectively true- if they hadn’t made it when they did, McKinnon probably would have died. Only they’d stopped it so it was done and-
“I’ll kill him,” she spoke in a voice like steel.
“Cas, he’s in Order custody-.”
“I’m not talking about Pettigrew,” she choked. “I’m talking about Him.”
He almost didn’t understand what she meant but the way she had spat the last word as though she had sucked venom directly from a snake gave him pause, “Cas you can’t possibly be serious,” he said, coming closer to her.
“You don’t think I can?” she gaped, face scrunched up, “I was ready to do it last year and I’m ready to do it right fucking now- he’s only giving me all the more reason to do it.”
“It’s not a matter of whether or not you can but how are you going to just go up to Voldemort and do whatever it is you think you can do- there’s limits,” he tried to reason without giving too much information away.
He’s talked about wanting to kill Voldemort dozens of times before and while he’s actively doing something about it, all the times before was just exactly that- talk and while he normally wouldn’t put much stock in someone else saying that- the way in which Dorcas was speaking had him worried that she might actually go and try something right now.
“I’m not just going to stroll up to him-,” she corrected him in a mocking tone, “I’m going to use his same methods against him,” her words were dark and angry and if he wasn’t right in front of her, he would have a hard time believing it was truly her saying these words.
He was about to continue but her eyes drifted to a spot over his shoulder and softened just a fraction, “Elias,” she whispered.
He turned over his shoulder and saw him standing in the doorway but it mustn’t have been for long because he still looked confused and half asleep. Dorcas walked towards him, crouching down so they were eye level and he wrapped his small arms around her neck, hugging her close and she returned the intensity. Ever since she and McKinnon started dating, Dorcas had become close with the family and he could see it now with how immediately comfortable Elias was with her.
What might have been a heartwarming scene only left him with cool dread at what Dorcas planned to do and he already knew, from having tried to stop Barty, is that he always failed whenever he tried to stand in his friends’ way because they, like him, were incredibly headstrong and fiercely independent.
For a Gryffindor- those were valiant traits; but a brave Slytherin was incredibly more dangerous for they did not care who they needed to get rid of in order to achieve their goal.
____________
I’ve been told the bunnies come out to play during Easter time, but I’ve got my eyes set on a bigger prize. They say the Easter rabbit will make an appearance- I’ll surely be there.
I know it is said not to put all your eggs in one basket but if you keep your basket safe, then there should be no worry. Keep your eyes on the prize.
Sincerely,
Eve Ranunculus
P.S. If you don’t understand, just write to me normally- I tried my best.
He pored over Evan’s note a week later, picking apart each word and analysing them on their own and in the context of the greater note, not needing his sincere offer of rewriting the note- owls were too dangerous these days, especially from Hogwarts when any one of them could be intercepted.
He knew what it meant but he still tried to deny it- tried to fight what he knew he had to do.
The Easter holiday began in ten days time meaning he had just about two weeks to make a move.
He didn’t know Voldemort’s comings and goings anymore, they couldn’t extract useful information from Peter now, and he had no other ties to the Death Eaters. They were completely on their own and one of the main reasons Voldemort has been able to maintain so much of his power for this long is that he was completely uncapturable.
He rarely ever showed up to the scenes of his crimes and if he did, it was never for more than five minutes maximum. Even if they did destroy the horcruxes, they had no way of knowing where he was and if he felt their destruction, it could push him to quickly make more- completely ruining their plan.
However Evan, still supposedly a loyal and marked death eater, would be privy to any important upcoming meetings. Bellatrix remained a step above even the Inner Circle, knowing Voldemort intimately, but Evan was clearly notified of this meeting which meant it had to have already been set and confirmed.
They needed to move swiftly while they had a clear time and date as there was no way of knowing when the next one would come by and the longer they waited- the more anxious he became and the more danger the world was in.
He was getting desperate despite knowing that worrying wouldn’t help anything. Nonetheless, he scribbled a quick missive to Dumbledore relaying this information for when they needed to mobilise. He had to take care of that, while they dealt with the horcruxes- it was the fairest division of labour.
Still, he thought as he got up from his desk and began pacing, he was no closer to a solution than he was before. He knew what didn’t work with the horcruxes, which was basically everything, but didn’t know what exactly would work.
He needed complete and utter destruction but he wasn’t sure if such a feat was possible.
“Kreacher?” he asked aloud hopefully.
“Master Regulus,” he bowed upon immediate arrival.
“When are you going to stop with the whole Master thing? You don’t even call James Master,” he tutted.
“James is not being Kreacher’s Master,” he sniffed, turning his long nose up at the mere mention of his name.
“James is the owner of this house, you work in this house, ergo, he is your master.”
Kreacher considered this for a few long moments, “Kreacher is not liking James. James is putting his own clothes away, he is washing his own dishes in the sink, he is not calling on Kreacher for anything,” he pouted, crossing his arms.
He enjoyed poking at Kreacher so he continued, “So you don’t like James because he doesn’t make you do things for him?”
“James is wanting Kreacher to be like…Opal who is not being a real house elf," Kreacher posited, dramatic as ever.
“Have you considered taking a lesson from her book and relaxing a bit?”
“Never,” he said with a tone of finality.
“Well I like James so you should at least start trying- maybe just do things for him anyways, he’d appreciate it regardless I’m sure,” he tried. “Anyways, for now I want you to go into the Library and find some books for me okay?”
He handed Kreacher a slip of parchment and the elf skimmed over it once, “Anything being with these words?”
“Yes,” he nodded, knowing it was a list with words ranging from ‘destruction’ to ‘fire’ to ‘pressure’ basically, all just synonyms for how someone might feel or do when wanting to destroy a horcrux.
He would find the books himself, but he’d probably end up in the Library all day and he wasn’t well in the mood to do that right now.
____________
He ended up sitting with Sirius in the garden later in the day when Remus walked outside, letter in hand.
He dropped it in Sirius’ lap before sitting down next to him and draping an arm around the bench they were on, “For you good sir,” he mocked.
Sirius smiled and tore it open without even looking at the cover and he pulled out a thick sheaf of parchment, much larger than any of them were expecting, with a look of confusion.
“What is it?” he asked as Sirius plucked a smaller piece of parchment off the top,
“Dear Sirius,
Thank you for coming to see me, I’m sorry it was cut short but I really did appreciate seeing you and I hope you’re staying safe.
As I’m sure you figured, Grimmauld Place was given to me but it doesn’t feel right for me to take it. My place is here at Malfoy Manor.
I have enclosed the property transfer papers which have already been signed so Grimmauld Place is officially yours- keep it, sell it, destroy it and build a new house- whatever you choose, the property is yours to deal with.
Whatever you decide to do, I know it will be the right choice.
Sincerely,
Cissy”
He read the entire thing aloud and blew out a huge breath once done.
“Why can’t she have gifted me perhaps a nice china tea set or some of Lucius’ expensive alcohol instead of this?” he frowned, throwing the parchment on the table but Regulus was swift to pick it back up, flipping through the pages.
He felt…conflicted to say the least. He hated Grimmauld and was still working on the complex feelings he continued to harbour over his mother but to have the house back in their possession felt- right. It was like Grimmauld only belonged to those who truly understood what it had been like inside those walls and for it to be handed off to an outsider felt a disservice. Only someone bred in the horrors of it could possess it.
“I’m selling it the first chance I get,” Sirius huffed, taking a sip of his lemonade though with the way Opal made it- it was essentially just sugar water made with the mere essence of a lemon.
“No-,” he said quicker than he could think, “Don’t sell it.”
“Why not?” he frowned, eyes squinted against the high sun of the day.
“I’m not saying we have to live in it or anything but- I don’t want to sell it,” he continued, not really able to provide a reason.
“Reg, we don’t need that shithole, keeping it isn’t going to do anything, might as well just sell it and be rid of it.”
Logically, he knew Sirius was talking about the house but for some reason, each word felt personal, like somehow discarding the house would be discarding him and though it didn’t make sense, it didn’t negate his feelings any more on the matter.
He could tell the frown on his face was getting deeper because Remus shot him a sympathetic look.
“You don’t need to be so hasty Sirius,” was all he said before adding, “And it’s not a shithole.”
Sirius guffawed a laugh, “You can’t seriously be so sentimental that you want to keep it- are you just going to look at it all day? Try to clean up the unsweepable cobwebs? Opening a few windows isn’t going to make it somehow better- you can’t change it.”
“Yeah well I think you can,” he rushed out, “With a bit of care, and attention, whose to say the house can’t change? It’s been neglected all this time but I think a bit of fucking effort can make a difference instead of just scrapping it altogether.”
He hadn’t realised he was out of breath until his breathing was the only sound between the three of them and Sirius’ face softened, “Reg…”
“I didn’t mean it like-,” he sighed and stood up, grappling with the head of his cane and walking away. “Nevermind,” he muttered over his shoulder, unsure if they even heard it or not.
He was being unfair- he knew it as well as they did- but he was under a lot of stress right now and while he knew he might’ve been asking for too much, he still held a fool’s hope that Sirius would listen to him.
What was he even going to do with the house? It was pointless to keep it if he was to live with James here but what was Sirius and Remus’ plan? Surely they weren’t going to live here forever either, he wondered what happened to that apartment in London they had bought together.
He needed to come up with some sort of plan to rationalise keeping the house.
He thought about one of the few long-ish conversations he had with his father- the one when they were standing on the stairs together facing the house elf-heads that were nailed onto the wall. His father referenced the fact that there was no real reason to keep putting the house elf heads on the wall- that the future could be different if only someone actually tried.
He had already veered so far from the path life had placed him on, abandoning his family and ideals he had been bred into believing, what was to say he couldn’t change the mere bones of the house he was raised in?
Nothing in life came easy to him but everything was well worth it in the end and once this was all over, he decided Grimmauld Place would be his next big project.
____________
He was walking towards James, arms outstretched like he was a toddler and when he stumbled for the umpteenth time and James ran towards him, he shoved his grip off- frustrated.
“Healer Caskut said it would take time,” James said gently, one hand holding his, his other under his arm despite his protestation. He placed the cane back in his hand and Regulus hated the relief it brought him to lean on it.
“Not this long,” he ground his teeth together so hard his jaw hurt.
“Your body will be ready when it’s time, exerting yourself isn’t going to-,” James tried but Regulus didn’t give him the chance to finish his words,
“And when we have to face Voldemort, already crippled as I am, he’ll kick my cane out from under me and laugh as I off myself because I couldn’t get up? I have been through too much to not even be able to take a couple steps in a single direction anymore,” he protested, handing the cane back and pushing James another few feet away so he could try again.
They were in the ballroom- a room they never really used and Regulus had practically forgotten its existence until James mentioned it. It was beautiful with gilded walls and crystal chandeliers and while the furniture had all been cleared out it was clear that it had an overly large capacity to hold a great number of guests. However, mirrors lined the space and he hated having to look at his stumbling from all these different angles.
“You can do it,” James smiled encouragingly and Regulus refocused on him and only him, the target to which he would always aim towards.
He went forward again, sweat beading on his forehead as he did so, and when he got close James ended up taking a step back, and another, until Regulus, growing overconfident, went faster and tripped, landing right in his arms.
Regulus didn’t even have the urge to stand or fight so he just sagged defeatedly in James’ arms who smiled as he hefted him up and winked, “Better.”
“Ugh,” he moaned, dropping his head forward into his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat in tandem with his own.
“I know how to make you feel better,” James murmured in his ear.
“And how’s that?” he asked while already tilting his head up to kiss at the exposed skin on his neck, burning hot to the touch. He began tracing his collarbones with his lips but instead of tilting his head back for more, James shifted and suddenly music started playing from somewhere behind him, catching him off guard.
“While I would love that, I had a different idea in mind,” he laughed, pulling him in straighter, wrapping one hand around Regulus’ waist, lightly grasping his other hand in his own, holding it aloft.
“James, if I can’t walk, how am I expected to dance?” he frowned at the melody that echoed in the space from the gramophone tucked in the back corner.
“Stand on my feet,” he said as though it were obvious and Regulus, feeling like he was going to crush them, hesitated but James remained still so it was either listen to him, or stand here all day. He lightly stepped onto the toes of his boots, watching his face as he did so, but James didn’t even flinch, his grin growing wider.
He slowly began moving them along to the song, first starting with a slow swaying from side to side before James began moving them in a wide circle around the cavernous space. Regulus watched their reflections in the mirror- James’ straight posture and angled jaw that caught the light everytime they spun, his deft feet holding both of them up, and his face, concentrated wholly on his.
He looked away from the reflection of James in favour of the real thing.
As he looked at James, the complete and utter warmth in his eyes, his solid hand holding him up, his eternal fortitude- he found himself wondering if there was any part of him that wasn’t so perfect. He could mention the chip on his front tooth, or the way one of his eyebrows arched higher than the other. He could surely mention how often James threw things around then complained when he couldn’t find him again or how strongly he felt things- how they could get into heated arguments over things that shouldn’t even matter because both of them felt they were the ones in the right.
He could mention how they could butt heads in how they want to go about things or how he knew James couldn't stand when Regulus wanted to organise things in a certain matter he didn’t care about. James couldn’t care less about anything regarding Potions while Regulus didn’t care all that much about the magical creatures James would show him in the books he was reading, listing off characteristics he was sure to forget in about thirty minutes.
James could be overly energetic sometimes and was horrible at lying and could drive him mad if he was in a bad mood and all Regulus could think was that he didn’t care.
It didn’t matter whether James argued with him or if he talked his ear off or if he went against every single thing he ever said because Regulus wanted a lifetime of it. He wanted every fight, every kiss, every moment of his life to be shared with James because even his negatives were positives wrapped just a bit tighter.
His stubbornness was because he cared about everything so deeply, his excitement was his zest for life, his imperfections only added to his beauty.
He looked into his hazel eyes now and they were the same as they were in fifth year only now he knew what actually lay behind him- he knew what his soul was. It was made of the same magic and spirit of his own- two halves that had been separated for eternity before finally coming together in this moment, spinning around the ballroom as the music ramped up higher and higher, crescendoing to a culminating point that had him curling his fingers into James’ shoulder just to hold on tighter.
When the music hit its’ climax, James breathlessly stopped them and dipped him low, his hand supporting his lower back as he arched, his arm grazing the floor. He pulled him back up tight and James’ brows furrowed and Regulus hadn’t even realised he had become emotional until his view of James right in front of him became blurry.
“What is it?” he spoke lowly against his skin, slowing down.
He couldn’t find words that could accurately represent his feelings- the sheer multitude overwhelmed him, and as the record faded and reduced to nothing but absent scratching against the vinyl, he said, “I can’t wait to do everything with you.”
He saw confusion and affection flit across James’ face as he realised it wasn’t for anything bad and he swiped his cheeks with his thumbs as he sweetly smiled, “I can’t wait to do everything with you too.”
He made it sound like a joke but Regulus hadn’t been more serious about anything in his life.
____________
He saw Remus the following day tending to the garden on his own- both very rare sights, and joined him, pushing the door open and sighing in the dew wet morning air that rushed to meet him in the doorway.
He poked his head up and glanced up at him, smiling tiredly and sitting back on his haunches as he shook his head, “Everyday I bring these daisies back to life and everynight they want to die again.”
“You could just…let them die,” Regulus suggested, huffling while continuing to think of a solution to Remus’ problem.
“That doesn’t quite fit your ‘putting in effort instead of scrapping it altogether’ idea now does it?” he tutted quietly, pulling a small weed out from the ground all in one piece.
He remained quiet because they hadn’t spoken about the house again since then. He didn’t even know if James knew about it either, he certainly hadn’t brought it up and neither had he.
“I spoke to Sirius about it and he’s agreed not to sell it but he will be putting it in ‘your name.’ He talked about some sort of transfer to the Black estate or whatever and I don’t know what any of it means but he is essentially out of it,” he finished with a tone of finality.
He nodded- he could accept that for now but if he was to stand by doing something with the house- he needed to actually think of something worthwhile. If none of them were to be living in it then Sirius would be right about it falling into disrepair and it hurt him too much in some explicable way to imagine that happening.
He leaned over and grabbed a weed by Remus’ foot, adding it to the pile, “Try adding drops of bumbleberry oil- I think it should help with the whole dying thing,” he said instead. Remus gave him an incredulous look and he added, “Evan is the one with the Herbology knowledge, I simply pick it up when I choose to listen to his many rants.”
“Maybe I should enlist Evan to help me instead of you,” he teased, bumping his shoulder.
“Yeah right, you’d miss me too much,” he laughed.
“I would,” he said, a touch more sincerely.
In the comfortable ensuing silence, he asked, “Do you want a family one day?” Remembering James’ question to him. He imagined Sirius had generally the same answer as him and he wanted to get Remus’ perspective as he wasn’t exactly entirely sure what he would want in the future.
“You know I thought about this a lot when I was younger,” he started, not even questioning why he had brought it up, “Before I realised I was gay, I wasn’t sure if lycanthropy was inheritable, whether I would pass it down or not. Now that I don’t have to worry about that, I…I still don’t know if I can do that to a child, whether I’d want them to grow up around someone like me, I’m too dangerous.” His face had gone sad and distant and Regulus almost wished he hadn’t asked.
“You’re not dangerous at all,” he frowned, understanding why he might feel that way but certainly not standing by and confirming any of those thoughts.
“On one of our missions a while ago…we had to go to an orphanage and deliver some children who had lost their parents. While I was waiting by, I walked past the playground and more than one child ran away from me,” he said, tearing out more greens, “because of my scars,” his lips thinned. “I wasn’t surprised by that but by how much it hurt.”
Regulus felt his heart breaking, chipping away with each word he said, “That’s why I’m not going on the mission with Sirius today- it’s to the orphanage.”
He had known that Sirius was going out today but hadn’t realised that Remus had chosen not to go with him despite having been given the opportunity to.
“Why?” he asked.
“Why do people go to orphanages? To drop off more orphans,” he plainly replied. He gave up working on the garden then, standing up and dusting off his trousers, “I’ll get the oil tomorrow, no more to be done with them now.”
Regulus nodded and made to stand but Remus stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, “You have to add fertiliser to the soil, you’ve been slacking far too long,” he tutted.
Regulus didn’t have it in him to fight and he had to admit wanted to stay out a bit longer with something to do to occupy his mind and hands and simply nodded, watching Remus head back inside.
He didn’t seem sad but he hoped Remus felt better about having a family if that was something he wanted. He immediately knew that, like James, he would be a good father- he was kind and caring and his lycanthropy made up such a miniscule part of him compared to all his goodness that he wished it wasn’t even a factor but he knew as well as anyone else how hard it was to change someone’s view of themselves once they had their mind made up.
He began adding the fertiliser to the soil and when he slipped on a patch of wet grass, he promptly cursed the entire garden and went back inside, instead ordering Opal to finish what he had been unable to do and then he called on Kreacher to make sure she actually did what he asked and to do whatever she didn’t. Then he made sure to clarify that if Remus asked, he did in fact do everything himself.
Foolproof really.
____________
Regulus walked with Sirius up the paved path to the safehouse turned orphanage. It was mainly built for children with either magical parents or for those who had shown significant magical proclivities while in foster care and as such, were placed under an especially close watch.
He wasn’t sure why he had chosen to come along, under specific glamours of course, but after he finished gardening and he caught Sirius sitting at the breakfast table in the morning, he asked if he could come and no one stopped him. He knew they likely thought he was simply going a bit stir crazy inside the house, and while that was at least partially true, it was the fact that Sirius was going to an orphanage that struck him.
It was low stakes and wasn’t stressful by any means but he also wanted to get a sense of Voldemort’s upbringing ever since going to his family home and seeing Dumbledore’s memory. While his own family was horrible, he hadn’t grown up in an orphanage and he had some desire in him to go oddly enough.
He was currently sporting dirty blond hair with brown eyes and a pair of glasses. He was named Reginald White by Sirius and it was such an atrocious attempt at a joke that he just kept it though he doubted anyone would even ask for his name.
When they arrived, a much older woman with greying hair and wrinkled skin greeted them a bit tersely- Matron Royce she introduced herself. She said that they had reached capacity and needed help expanding their home, which was where Sirius would step in to help carefully expand each room without having the whole house collapse. Regulus wouldn’t perform any magic but he’d help Sirius wherever necessary.
The matron gave them a tour of the house and he could clearly see why they needed more space. There were two long rooms full of children in cots lined up across opposite walls, a few classrooms, a nursery, a laundry and kitchen, and two standard bathrooms with about three stalls in each. They must have waited till the last minute to ask for assistance as some kids were already set up in blankets on the floor next to said cots.
Some of the younger children waved up at them as they passed while most of the older ones just scowled or ignored them entirely. When they went up to the nursery, he saw rows of babies in bassinets, the walls painted a muted shade of blue, three windows slightly cracked to let in fresh warm air. Sirius barely gave them a glance while Regulus found himself stuck to the room, quickly catching up to Sirius when he turned and saw that he was already at the end of the corridor.
Finally the matron and Sirius left to talk while he was given the task of clearing out the rooms, directing the children outside to play with their teachers so they could get started.
He went to the room with the older children, aged 7-10, first, figuring it would be easier and he was partially right. It was simple in that they listened to him without fuss but they didn’t give him anything beyond blank looks and deep sighs. The more enthusiastic ones of the bunch gave him a tight smile which returned a bit too happily, receiving a weird look in return. He wasn’t quite used to the glamoured face he had but judging by their reactions, he didn’t want to know what he looked like.
The real struggle was when he got to the younger kids’ room. They were all over the place, the younger range of kids in groups on the floor playing with eachother or colouring or chasing each other around while the older, if they could even be called that, ones huddled among each other ignoring him.
“So if you’ll just-,” he tried and failed to get anyone to listen to him. He even clapped his hands but still, “The matron is asking all of you to just-.” He got annoyed then and pulled out his wand.
He shot bright sparks into the air, accompanied with loud popping noises and suddenly, he had dozens of wide eyes on him. The instantaneous force of all their attention was almost too much, “The- er- The matron is expecting all of you outside,” more silence, “Now.”
There was a loud rush as children bounded out of the room past him then and he flattened himself against the wall to avoid being trampled.
Once the room was cleared out he continued onwards, hoping he might find the Kitchens again and he did, snagging a glass of water and an apple, before passing by Sirius who was readying to expand the rooms. He instead went outside to enjoy the fresh air.
The orphanage was on a really lovely piece of land, wide and sprawling, far away from any neighbours, and there was a makeshift football field, swing sets, and little tables which children could congregate to do whatever it is they did. There were some teachers hanging around under tree shade and he lingered opposite them, sitting down on a bench and looking out, enjoying the freedom away from home, however short it may be.
As he looked out, he knew right off the bat that this was not the environment Tom Riddle had grown up in. No, he was off in a public muggle London-damp orphanage that barely had enough money to keep the lights on and the kids fed. Were the first few years of a child’s life really that important? Enough to make one want to turn into an evil dictator? He doubted that.
But still, Tom Riddle was a serious and cold child that had only worsened with age and that made Regulus think that maybe that’s just how he was born. He was simply hardwired into being smart and curious, cool and calculating, power-hungry and if that was the case did the environment matter?
He had gone from focusing on Tom Riddle to thinking about himself again- wondering whether he was a product of his family, his environment, both, or none.
He idly watched groups of children playing on the swingset and watched them go back and forth, some pushed by overeager kids who were waiting their own turn while others just tucked and kicked their legs to propel themselves higher and higher. There was another group of children sitting by a duck pond and then he saw a small child aimlessly walking round by himself, far off from where all the other children were.
He kept his eyes on him for a long moment and when he saw him disappear into a bramble of trees, he quickly stood up and went off after him, not wanting him to get lost or run into any sort of danger- if anything he was more scared of what the Matron would do to him.
He quickly turned back to the house and saw the left side of it now stuck out disproportionately to the rest of the house and he was sure that Sirius was fine, continuing on his mission forward. He wished he knew the kids name so he could call it out and he felt stupid yelling out ‘Hello?’ so he pulled his wand and cast a spell to reveal recent footsteps or tracks and sure enough, right in front of him, were small uneven footprints.
Diligently following it for a few minutes, he almost zoned out until he suddenly realised that the footsteps completely disappeared. He looked around for a few minutes and saw nothing but trees all around him. He froze completely, listening for something, and just barely audible- he heard a sniffling.
His head shot up and he saw the little boy he was looking for, up in a tree. He wasn’t all that high up but the large and sturdy tree made for apparently easy climbing for him and now he was sitting on a branch crying and Regulus had no idea what to do.
He had dark blue eyes and brown hair and skin that instantly struck him as something familiar.
“Hello,” he started, “I saw you run away from your friends out there, it’s dangerous to be out here all alone y’know?” he asked, looking around despite the lack of any real danger. It was still daylight, the weather was nice and warm, and there weren’t any signs of animals nearby but still- when talking to a child he knew he had to be calm and succinct.
“They not my friends,” he huffed, crossing his arms and turning away.
“Okay,” Regulus drawled, “Well either way, it’s not good to be out here all alone, it’s almost lunchtime soon, you’ll have to be back home for that.”
“It not my home,” he said, much angrier now. He fully turned away then, not even looking at him and when Regulus repeated his previous statements, he didn’t even deign to respond to him, keeping his small face and hands all scrunched up.
“If you keep ignoring me, I’ll tell on you to the Matron,” he threatened.
Again, he ignored him.
“I’ll come up there myself,” he decided then, pulling his wand out for show, feeling more and more childish by the second.
“You won’t,” he said, sticking his tongue out at him and that had done it.
Grumbling to himself, he shoved his wand in his pocket and grabbed the first branch, hoisting himself up, awkwardly scrambling before finding a foothold and hauling himself up further, branch by branch, until he and the kid were at the same level. He threw his leg over a branch on the opposite side of the tree and had to fight to hide how out of breath he was at such a simple activity. He looked down and saw he tore a hole in his trousers but he could mend that easily enough.
He’d never climbed trees while he was younger and was now seeing just how exhilarating it was, even at his old age.
He dusted off his hands and breathed deeply, levelling the kid with a look he couldn’t ignore now, “Look kid. You’re not allowed to be out here, and I need you to go back before we both get in trouble.” He had no experience talking to kids so he wasn’t sure how much he could understand. He looked to be around somewhere between the ages of 3 to 5 which were quite difficult ages he imagined as that’s sort of when they begin to realise they are actually small people with free will but based on his face, the message appeared to be clear enough.
“That is not my home!” he said louder again this time, adamant, and Regulus tried to reason with him,
“Now why do you say that?” he questioned, keeping both of his hands firmly planted on the branch as his legs hung awkwardly off one side.
“My home is far away with Nana, I want to go back!” he protested, tears escaping his eyes.
Regulus suddenly felt inexplicably sad.
This child must be new here, having only recently been orphaned, or if he was with his Nan then perhaps even longer. He wondered who brought him here in the first place but that didn’t matter at the moment.
“What’s your name?” he first asked.
“Liam,” he answered.
“Liam,” he echoed, the word triggering something in him, somewhere deep down in his subconscious, “I don’t think you can go back with your nan anymore.” Gods, how did people deal with orphans? This was horrible.
“Matron told me she’s dead but I dunno when she’s coming back. I don’t like it here,” he frowned hopelessly, wiping messily at his face.
“What don’t you like about here?” he genuinely wondered as he had only just been thinking how nice it was a few minutes ago.
“Nobody wants to be my friend,” he murmured, “And they don’t make the same food my Nana does…and they don’t have any of my toys,” he listed off.
Regulus thought long and hard about what to say, not knowing how best to tackle it as he relaxed a bit more on the tree, less scared about tumbling off it now, “Well I’m sure a lot of people would like to be your friend if you tried talking to them- have you tried?”
He shook his head no.
“Well we’re friends now so surely you can make some more. As for the food, I think you’ll just have to cope with that till you grow up a bit more- my mum doesn’t make my favourite food so I make it myself now. As for the toys, well if you make friends, they can share their toys with you,” he answered helpfully, addressing each concern.
He knew he was thinking too logically instead of emotionally for Liam so he just said, “Come on Liam, shall we go back? It’s going to get dark the longer we’re out here.”
His apparent fear of the dark brought him back because he quickly nodded and began descending the tree with Regulus right behind him. He struggled getting down, nearly twisting an ankle on the jump, but he made it fine and they both quietly walked out together.
When they made it back out, he noticed the kids were filing inside while teachers were patrolling the entire play area shouting Liam’s name.
“I found him,” he called out, easing their worries immediately.
A young woman jogged over quickly, ushering him towards the other kids and she breathed a sigh of relief once he was on his way.
“We were all so worried, Liam has had such a hard time getting used to things here, it’s like we’ve all just been waiting for him to run away,” she shook her head, pushing her fringe off her forehead and looking back at him, her blue eyes kind and tired.
“He mentioned it to me- he said he misses his Nan,” he nodded.
“She passed away just a few months ago. She came here before she died actually- she was a muggle and thought us to be a normal orphanage but she said she had no other family and wanted to be sure Liam was taken care of after she was gone and it just so happened he had magic. Turns out his own parents died in a fire and he was just dropped off on her doorstep so she raised him as long as she could’ve but she was sick,” she regaled sadly and Regulus thought he might have a heart attack.
Liam was Abena’s son- he knew it instantly. He had all the same characteristics as that little boy he was unable to tear from his memory from that night around two years ago. He would never forget when he arrived at that house with Bellatrix and what she had done to that small family and what he had done after- his small act of defiance.
He had never gone back to check on him despite wanting to over the years and now he apparently knew what had happened.
He only nodded to the woman before silently walking back up to the house, unsure of what to do now. His body was full of pins and needles and his heart raced as he forced himself to calm down. He wanted to cry, to scream, to go back in time, but he just felt immeasurable grief weighing him down at knowing this boy had been orphaned twice over.
He should’ve brought Liam here the first time, he should’ve thought to go to an orphanage, but he wasn’t thinking properly that night and the older woman looked so nice and caring and clearly she was if she had gone to such lengths to make sure Liam was okay but it still wasn’t enough.
And now Liam was here and he hated it. He had tried to run away because of how much he missed his old life and Regulus had of course ended up there, only to force him back. Obviously he had to go back but still- he wanted to curse himself for being the reason for it in the first place, or maybe even Bellatrix because if he hadn’t gone with her that night, he’d never have to know about this family.
Never have his soul marked with their deaths.
He found Sirius quickly enough and once it was confirmed that they were done, they spoke to the Matron one last time and left together.
“What were you up to while I was working,” Sirius queried, pretending to be upset.
“Nothing,” he numbly replied, unable to jest right now.
“You okay?” he asked then, more seriously.
“I just want to go home now please.”
____________
He spent that night lying awake and staring at the ceiling, James fast asleep next to him, one arm slung over his waist, his breathing deep and even failing to lull him to sleep. When he had finally tired of rolling back and forth he slipped out from bed and got up, shutting the door quietly behind him and aiming for downstairs.
He found Kreacher dusting the painting frames along the entryway, up much later than usual. He always seemed to be awake when he was, wondering if that was just coincidence or he truly did wait for him to sleep as then he will certainly not be needed.
“Master Regulus,” he said though, apparently surprised.
“Kreacher,” he said in turn, much less surprised, turning to look up at the painting he was dusting the frame of.
It was a scene from what appeared to be the Goblin rebellions. It was large and meant to be from the perspective of some bystander as the foreground was a quiet neighbourhood, and in the background, fires raged on. Goblins could be seen fleeing the scene while valiant looking wizards fought to douse the uncontrollable flames. He could see where the painter's views on the matter lied- clearly against the goblins' fight for equality, and he looked back to Kreacher.
“Did you find the books I asked you for?” he asked.
“Yes Master Regulus, they are being in the library,” he nodded.
He went up to the Library then and lighting the sconces, started lightly perusing the different titles and the idea of doing real research at, he glanced at the clock, 2:07AM was not appealing at all whatsoever so he grabbed the fiction novel that was shoved in the middle of the stack.
The cover was of a young man, standing atop a large rock, golden sword held aloft in his free hand while he other was pumped up in the air to show some sort of heroicness. The title read ‘Prince Micah and his Mystical Mysteries: The Flamed Island!’
It wasn’t at all the sort of book he read but it seemed simple and easy so he took it with him to the sofas, grabbed a blanket, and curled up, pulling open the worn cover and reading, very much wide awake now despite the weariness that continued to linger in his bones long after the day had ended.
He didn’t talk to anyone about what happened with Liam, he merely ate dinner, played a riveting game of Chess with Remus, and then retired early, unable to keep up the pretence of being okay any longer. Despite this, he knew James could sense something off with him so he came upstairs likely wanting to talk but Regulus pretended to be asleep already, only giving up once James had kissed his forehead and gone right to bed beside him.
The book was interesting enough he supposed, following along with Prince Micah who was your typical Gryffindor, brave and reckless, and was apparently the prince of ‘Ravenia’ , some made up country meant to be Great Britain and he went around slaying beasts that were meant to threaten their empire.
This book had him slaying fictional beasts made of flame and only once he got to the source of the flame could they be extinguished.
He was reading rather passively the entire time but hours had passed and he was suddenly hunched over, excitedly reading each word as he got closer and closer to the Flamed Island, suddenly happening upon the warlock that was there.
Grimpen Harkez was his name and apparently the King of Ravenia had slayed his family in an accident and he had promised vengeance on the empire, aiming to destroy everything they had in retribution for what had been taken from him.
He was eventually defeated and Regulus was only able to calm down once he had been apprehended and sent to jail, passively reading the happy ending of the story as most of these books tended to have.
He started dozing off with thoughts of the book, the painting with Kreacher downstairs, and Liam and realised an invisible thread that had tied them altogether- fire.
The fire in the book had a specific name for it- something that caused the flames to be so powerful it truly did threaten an entire country.
It came to Regulus right as he was on the cusp of sleep.
Fiendfyre.
The only fire strong enough to destroy anything and everything in its path for nothing could escape its ravenous appetite. It was no mere fire for it was sentient, living and writhing, begging to be set free into the living world to consume until there was nothing left but itself.