Regulus could only describe his current situation as a complete nightmare.
The Heir of the Ancient and most Noble House of Black could not possibly fall further than where he was. Guarding the dungeon of Malfoy Manor while Lucius Malfoy, Rodolphus Lestrange, even Severus Snape moved through the upper floors with but a Crucio as punishment.
Walking across the uneven cobblestones and pulling his cloak closer to fend off the chill, he could not think of the number of times he had been Crucio’d at his lords hand in the past 24 hours. And for what? It was Evan’s own fault for jumping in front of the Aurors on their last raid of a Muggle village. It was Evan’s own fault for attracting the attention of Alastor Moody. And it was, 100%, Evan’s fault for throwing a Diffindo at Moody’s face, his last move before a team of Aurors surrounded him and quickly ended Evan’s life.
Kicking a rock out of his way, he thought it highly unfair the blame for not controlling his impulsive and fanatic friend had fallen squarely on his shoulders. Not once did his fellow Death Eaters attempt to speak for how he had tried – he had pulled Evan back. But perhaps that was further punishment for not wanting to dirty his own hands with the torture of Muggles, something he found a year ago he hadn’t the stomach for.
Of course, he already knew the order of things amongst his precious Dark Lord, already knew the fearsome punishments that came from a man with such power. He already knew the quest for Pureblood supremacy was a guise of compiling enough power to overthrow the Ministry. More than this, he already knew of the dark and dangerous rituals that the man he served used to extend his own life. He just hadn’t figured out yet what to do about it.
Soft cries echoed from the cell to his left, Praheet Patel, an pureblood woman who was decidedly not part of the Sacred 28 and yet still attempted to carry herself with the dignity of the esteemed of India. Did she not realize there was no place for her under the Dark Lord’s rein? Did she not realize that she would be targeted alongside the Muggleborns and Halfbloods that filled the cells across the Dungeon?
“Please”, she whispered. “Please. I’m pregnant. I can’t stay here.” Regulus turned towards the bars and found her looking right at him – her hands caked in blood and tears streaking through the dirt crusted on her face.
“I can’t… I can’t help you” He whispered back, hoping she would stop looking at him with such desperation. “Just… here” he threw the biscuit, likely stale and out of date, from his cloak pocket into the cell and watched her rip off the packaging and shove it into her face like an animal. He couldn’t help sneering, some Pureblood, letting herself engage in such undignified behaviour.
Just as she finished eating the door opened and he heard the echo of Bellatrix and Greyback’s voices down the narrow stairs.
“Filthy Mudblood” Bellatrix cackled “someone’s even engraved her worth into her skin! Ingenious, I would say, with dark magic even. Poor thing couldn’t even raise her little filthy head to answer us. How did she manage to come in the Manor, hmmm Greyback? I thought your kind were supposed to be good guard dogs.”
Regulus felt a bit sick. The idea of marking someone with their blood status sounded barbaric, even to him. Sure, there should be some way of telling them apart, but this seemed a bit too far.
“Don’t blame me for this, Black. She appeared in the same room we were in. I don’t know where she came from or how she breached the Manor’s defenses. Malfoy hadn’t a clue either.” Greyback protested with his gravelly voice, sounding close to snapping.
Regulus knew he didn’t want another confrontation. He knew he was a coward (so what? He reasoned. Who wouldn’t be a coward under the sheer weight of Bellatrix’s insanity) and quickly hid behind a stack of empty mead barrels at the end of the hallway.
The soft plunk, plunk of a body being dragged down the stairs could be heard if he listened hard enough.
“Throw this one in a cell at the front, she will be wanted for questioning” Bellatrix demanded.
Quickly, with a thud, a scrape and a bang, Regulus found himself alone again, for surely the Mudbloods and the traitors didn’t count as company.