Black Rose [Regulus Black]

Two pairs of grey eyes locked with each other and narrowed, while Alessandra tapped her foot to the beat of the music on the radio as she smacked her lips, trying to get her lip gloss to settle evenly. Her table was strewn with an assortment of cosmetic products, and beside her on opposite sides of the table, two dark-haired boys were in a silent stare-off with each other.

Yes. An array of make-up items was all that was standing between two wound-up brothers, both of whom looked ready to demolish the other. Neither of them looked like they were ready to break off the unofficial competition, and they both wanted the other to interrupt the silence, probably because it was some sort of dumb show of dominance.

Men.

She began curling her hair as she discreetly glanced at the boys, who were still adamant about maintaining quietude.

"You said you have a way to defeat him." Sirius had finally broken the silence.

"Yes," Reg said stiffly, and she almost felt sad because it felt more like a business transaction than an interaction between two brothers. She'd grown up believing that she had no family, and would've given up anything to have one. She remembered seeing all these families come by the orphanage and feeling hope that they would pick her, but to no avail. It was sad that they were family but couldn't care less about each other, but perhaps that was how it functioned in the Wizarding World.

"Well? Are you going to show me proof, or are you just all talk? You're wasting all of my time."

"You have nothing important in your schedule, your entire life consists of free time. You're probably just barking like a bleeding bitch in your fucking free time," the younger brother snapped back.

"Regulus," Sandra warned. "Let's just get it over with, I don't want robbers in my home longer than necessary."

"Kreacher!" Reg called, and the loyal house-elf appeared with a pop.

"Master," Kreacher bowed, and then turned to face Sandra and gave her a small bow too. He then promptly faced Sirius, and his face contorted into an expression of deep hatred. It was mutual, however, because Sirius' face was also twisted into an ugly grimace.

"Bring me the locket."

Ten seconds later, the elf popped back, the same locket in hand. She hadn't noticed it before, but the locket possessed a dark aura of its own, and the mood in her house had considerably dimmed. She could feel invisible tendrils swirling off of it and latching onto her, and shuddered. Reg seemed unaffected, probably because he'd gotten used to it, but she could tell Sirius had also felt the same gloom she had.

Of course, he was a prat about it and played it off. "So this is what you have for me... a pretty little golden necklace."

"It's a locket," she ground out at him, wanting to just shove her curling iron right where the Sun didn't shine.

"This is one of the many things he has been using to keep himself alive. You can either believe it, and we can come to an agreement to defeat him... or you can get the fuck out and keep letting thousands die in this war," Reg snarled, anger threatening to consume him.

"Master Regulus mustn't let himself be upset by the blood-traitor brat," Kreacher squeaked, and Sandra laughed slightly at the way the elf and the wizard were glowering at each other.

Sirius shut his eyes, taking deep breaths as he considered it. The war was clearly showing no signs of stopping, and he just wanted it to end so that everyone could go back to their lives. Anyone with two eyes could tell the locket was laced with dark magic, which meant Regulus was telling the truth (though he didn't want to admit it). "I can set up a meeting with Dumbledore, if that's what you're going for."

She was about to ask what a Dumbledore was, but then realised that it was probably a who. Who named their child Dumbledore? It was like the name for a villain straight out of a fairytale.

Reg nodded curtly, and his eyes flicked over to Sandra. He quickly handed off the locket to Kreacher, who disappeared as quickly as he had come.

"You can't tell your friends...the Maulers, or whatever you call them."

"It's Marauders, and why shouldn't I?"

"I don't trust the Maulers, or you either. The less the people know, the better."

"I can't keep this from them. They'll ask me what it was."

"You do know there's a mole in your precious little Order right?" Reg sneered.

"None of them are it, I know it," Sirius defended.

"Either way," Sandra broke in. "It's preferred that you tell no one until this 'mole' is found."

"Just who are you?" Sirius snapped.

"That is none of your business," Reg shot back, their voices getting progressively louder.

"No, it is my business, considering that I'm supposed to trust you-"

"You don't really have a choice. If I have to, I will Obliviate you so you won't remember this interaction happening, and we will tell the Aurors so you will probably be sent to Azkaban for breaking the Statute of Secrecy, breaking into someone's house, and harrassment. I can and I will, and your friends will be in tow."

"I want to know who she is, and how you know her, or at least a general idea."

"It's alright," she interjected, tired of watching this escalate into something worse. "I'm Alessandra."

"Alessandra what? What's your last name? Are you betrothed? I've never seen you at Hogwarts, where are you from? How did you meet?"

"We are not betrothed," Reg insisted, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

"But you're... close to being betrothed? Courting, at least?" Sirius narrowed his eyes. They had to have been, because he'd never seen his brother so close to someone.

"No, there's nothing going on between us, and even if it were it wouldn't be any of your damn business."

"But how do you know each other then?"

"Again-"

"We don't feel comfortable sharing that with you," Alessandra smiled thinly, wanting to wrap this up as soon as possible. "Maybe some other time, when we're comfortable being around someone who broke into my house."

"It was a safety measure-"

"Shut the fuck up, it was for your own ego," Reg retorted. "You just wanted to prove that you had truly cut yourself off from your own family by arresting someone close to your brother."

Sandra knew it was somewhat irrelevant, but her breath still hitched in her throat nevertheless when he admitted that they were close, and she kicked herself for reading into things too much. She sent the curling iron away with a flick of her wrist because she was done setting her hair, and fluffed her hair one last time before taking a look at herself in the mirror, and God she looked like a different person. She looked glamorous, even if she said so herself, literally like one of those starlets on red carpets. It was amazing.

She tore her gaze away from the mirror when she realized that silence had fallen over the house, only to see the two brothers staring at her with wide eyes and dropped jaws, albeit for different causes — Sirius was shocked at seeing her cavalier display of wandless magic, and Regulus was just stunned at how effortlessly beautiful she looked.

She cleared her throat, slightly self-conscious at the way the two were shamelessly gawking at her. "So... are we done here?"

They both instantly picked their jaws off of the floor, and Sirius looked away as he stood up. "Do I meet you here next week?"

"Yes," she began ushering him out her house quickly, "But don't tell anyone."

"Okay, but where are you-"

She slammed the door in his face, and then promptly hurried back to him. He didn't blink once as he eyed her from head to toe, his mouth slightly agape, and she grinned, slightly shy. "What do you think?"

He cleared his throat while he stood up. "You look fantastic. Everyone there is going to drop dead when they see you."

Upon seeing her stricken expression, his eyes widened, and he began stuttering, not understanding why he was behaving like this. It felt like his brain had turned to wet wool and all his thoughts had become an incoherent mess within his mind, and he didn't like it. "In a good way, of course, you're going to be the most stunning woman in the room."

"I thought I was supposed to be inconspicuous."

He let out a breathy laugh. "Don't bother too much with that, just have fun."

She grabbed onto his hand, goosebumps rising on her skin as her fingers tingled when they were surrounded by his long ones. They apparated onto a green lawn, and now it was Sandra's turn to stare at what was in front of her.

He snickered under his breath upon noticing her reaction to the Manor, and she swiveled her head to look at him, growing more enchanted by the minute. The lighting in her apartment did no justice to the way Regulus looked, he looked like an actual prince in the moonlight. Chiseled features, eyes like molten silver and sharply dressed, he was an actual prince, and she felt slightly foolish for being the one on his arm. It was like Cinderella, with the literal rags-to-riches story, but she looked much more cheap, and she feared that she would be laughed at.

He saw her expression fall slightly, and wrapped an arm around her waist to draw her in sideways as they strolled towards Lestrange Manor, where the festivities appeared to be in full swing. "Like I said, you'll be the most beautiful woman in that room, don't doubt it."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "You're just saying that because I could expose you to the world if you aren't nice to me."

"A little bit of that too," he admitted, a grin playing on his lips. "But mostly the first reason I gave."

She laughed. "Thank you. Although, I will admit, I am slightly nervous, because the last time I was this dressed up, your mother ended up fainting."

"Because of how stunning you looked."

"Yeah, right," she scoffed, trying to recall everything she'd read from the book he'd given her on pureblood etiquette. "Any last minute tips?"

"Just agree with everything said. Stay low. Try not to divulge too much about yourself. Stay out of fights."

"Fights?"

"Nothing physical, of course... it's mostly just backhanded compliments and passive-aggressive statements. People will be trying to tear each other down and bring themselves up, and will likely be brutal or rude. Most of the people in there will be entitled, but don't let it get to you, yeah?"

She scrunched up her nose. "I thought this was supposed to be fun."

"It is, mostly when you're a silent spectator. I find it entertaining to watch."

She tilted her head. "Fair enough. I'm not supposed to be seen around you, am I?"

He pressed his lips together, contemplating it. "I think it'd be fine if we interact occasionally. Don't worry, I will talk to you, just not as often to not let people know that we're associated in any way."

She nodded, fidgeting slightly, and he felt awful.

"Sorry," he mumbled, running his hand through his hair sheepishly.

"Don't be," she replied light-heartedly, beaming up at him as they entered the manor. "I'm thankful to even be here."

"Black!" They both turned to see two people approaching them, and she hurried off, assuming that they were his friends and deciding against interacting them just to be on the safe side. She instantly made a beeline for the food, because she ate whenever she was stressed, and this was kind of a high-stress situation. When she was done guzzling down a few starters, she finally turned to take in Lestrange Manor.

It was magnificent, in the way one would find the castle of a villain prince magnificent. It was apparent that all purebloods seemed to follow the rule that 'darker was better', because she could see the same decor that was in Reg's house prominent in Lestrange Manor. The walls were a dark green with intricate patterns woven into the fabric. There was no shortage of chandeliers in the ballroom, with one hanging overhead every few steps later. The floor was a dark marble laced with obsidian streaks, bearing strange resemblance to a murky pool of ink, and it felt strange to walk on. All in all, it was one of the most mystical houses she'd ever seen, and whoever lived here had more money than they could spend in a lifetime.

She couldn't deny, she felt jealous of most of the people there. This was their life. They got to attend such events frequently, and could afford this kind of lifestyle. Lavish gowns, gourmet meals, spacious homes — it was her dream life.

After she sat down at one of the tables, her gaze focused on the couple at the center of the room, and she sucked in a breath as she watched Reg dance with a dark-haired girl around the same age as they were. They seemed to be laughing and having a good time, and her heart sunk slightly as the feeling of jealousy intensified. She knew that it was unreasonable for her to feel jealousy considering that they had incompatible lifestyles and had known each other for less than three months, but all those months had been the best ones of her life, solely because he was there. It was foolish of her to feel that way, considering that there was next to no hope of him feeling that way too, and he'd also vehemently denied it only hours ago. But she still couldn't help it, and was now beginning to worry that perhaps her feelings for him were irrational, and she was just having an unhealthy attachment to him because he was one of the very few people she was actually close to.

"Are you alright, dear?" She whipped around to see an older blonde woman sitting beside her, whose eyes looked concerned, but Sandra still remained on guard, because it could be a ploy. Reg did mention that a lot of the people here were deceitful.

"I'm alright." She tried to smile, but it probably came out as a sneer, and she winced inwardly. The woman, however, seemed to pay no attention to it.

"Then why aren't you dancing with the rest of your young friends?" She gestured towards the centre of the room, and Sandra's eyes swept over the embracing couple at the centre yet another time, causing a pit to form in her stomach. Suddenly, she wished she hadn't eaten, because she was beginning to feel slightly sick now.

"I'm just tired, so I'm taking a break," she lied easily, but the woman's gaze followed hers.

"Ah," she clicked her tongue. "Unrequited love."

"What?" she stuttered out. "No, of course not, I don't even know him."

"Of course you don't," the woman winked, her brown eyes sparkling with amusement. "You should talk to him though, I'm sure that once you get to know each other, he'd feel the same way."

She wanted the Earth to crack open under her feet and swallow her whole, and cursed herself for letting this happen. He'd requested her to be careful of letting people know, and here the very first person she'd met had already figured it out. She was awful at this.

"You must be mistaken, I don't feel for him that way," she laughed it off, sipping some wine to hide her reaction behind the wine glass.

"Of course," the woman tutted. "Back when I was your age, I met this wonderful boy too. He was the most charming person I'd ever met..."

Alessandra's nerves soon eased up around the woman, who spoke of a man who was the love of her life. She wanted to believe so badly that the person in front of her was genuinely kind, and probably would've completely thought so if Reg hadn't coached her before. Maybe she was kind, but Sandra couldn't be sure enough, and it was too risky to let on too much, so she just stayed as silent as possible, enjoying the woman's excited hand gestures as she told her story and occasionally laughing and replying to her too.

Just when the story was about to end, a boy came prancing up to them. "Mother," he greeted, planting a kiss on the woman's cheek. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just telling this girl here a story," she laughed, and Sandra couldn't help but mentally compare the mother-son relationship between this duo, and Regulus and Walburga. They couldn't be any more different... although it could still be a facade. It could just be that they were faking it, and maybe one would see Reg and his mother's relationship in public the same way, but it seemed so real.

He rolled his eyes. "Well, don't bore her."

"I'm not bored, don't worry," she laughed, knocking back the rest of her wine. "It's quite interesting, really."

"My apologies, I haven't even introduced myself," the woman cut in, looking truly apologetic. "This is my son, Evan, Evan Rosier."

Sandra froze. It felt like the warmth that had surrounded her body whilst they were engaged in conversation had suddenly left, leaving behind cold, frigid temperatures behind and turning her blood to ice. The obsidian floor underneath her now appeared to be swaying and crumbling, and she felt like she was falling into an unending void. She actually gripped the table tight, willing herself not to empty the contents of her stomach right then and there.

"And I am Dabria Rosier," the woman smiled, but now that Sandra saw it, it looked so much like the smile a Siren gave before taking her prey. She wanted to scream at her for abandoning her own daughter and cry and make a scene, and then wanted to also experience the feeling of being hugged by a mother. It was one of the most crushing sensations she'd ever felt, and the worst part was that she'd actually felt affection towards the woman who'd abandoned her, even if it was for a few fleeting moments.

"And you are?" Evan asked, watching her with unease as she rose up with a stricken expression on her face. "Are you al-"

She had already bolted by then to the nearest lavatory she could find, retching and heaving but nothing came out, and she collapsed as her body was racked with dry sobs. She was probably a sight, trembling and shuddering on the bathroom floor. She tried to be as quiet as possible, but the onslaught of negative emotions didn't stop, and she wept like a little child.

"Sandra?" She bowed her head even lower as she noticed Regulus standing there. "Holy fuck, what happened to you?"

He quickly rushed towards her, wrapping his arms around her as she gasped out incoherent words with tears now streaming down her cheeks. What the actual hell had happened when he had left her there? He'd assumed she'd be fine because she had thick skin and could hold her own, but he didn't think she would be so distressed that she'd be crying on the bloody bathroom floor. Clearly, whatever had happened had completely tilted her mood, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out what could've upset her so much. Thankfully, she seemed physically unscathed, so she probably hadn't been tortured.

"Did you...see them?" he prodded hesitantly, realizing that it was one of the few plausible scenarios to have made her react this way.

She nodded, unable to manage the words.

"Do you want to go home?" he asked, when she'd stopped crying and was shaking in his arms. She nodded, clearly not wanting to talk at the moment, and so he snuck her out and apparated them back to her apartment.

"Kreacher," he called, setting her down on the couch. The elf apparated in, astonished to see Alessandra crying.

"Master?"

"Get me a Calming Draught, quick."

He pulled open the cork of the vial, and poured the contents down her throat, carefully watching her. He couldn't imagine being in her position, but it had to have been painful seeing her mother not even recognize the girl she'd left in a Muggle Orphanage.

Deciding to turn away from her so that she didn't feel uncomfortable, he went over his options. He could go back to the house, but she was clearly upset and needed company. However, his mother would have questions for sure if he didn't come back soon enough, and now that he had left early, she'd be interrogating him anyways.

Frustration rose up in him when he thought of his mother, who would be livid and shrieking if she saw him now. He bit back the annoyance he felt at the woman, because while she was the woman who raised him, she was being unreasonable and needed to understand eventually.

His hands shook a little when he walked into the kitchen and pulled open the doors, trying to find something for her to eat. He returned and sat down on the floor, offering up a tub of ice cream to her. He waited for a reaction from her, but her face remained blank and her skin pale as she took it from him wordlessly.

He didn't blame her.

Not knowing what to say, he also moved to take a spoon of ice cream from the tub, and when she didn't look very angry at him for doing so, he helped himself to some. And so, they spent the night silently gorging on ice cream, with not a word exchanged between them about the events that had transpired hours ago.

⚜

Regulus woke to the faint sound of a rustle.

Wincing as he rubbed his sore neck muscles, he lifted his head from the couch to turn to the source of the sound. Alessandra's shocked face greeted him, and his lips parted slightly as he took in her appearance. With her messy hair, ruined make-up and red eyes, she looked like a zombie.

A pretty zombie.

The circumstances hadn't set in yet and he kept gazing up at her goofily, his mind still muddled with sleep. His head cleared up, however, when she uttered a single word.

"Shit."

She looked up towards the wall, and he also faced it, to see the clock, which read:

05:36

His brain wasn't still fully functioning yet so he didn't understand the significance of what she was looking at, and he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes to help himself see clearer.

"Your mother's going to kill you," she squeaked, mortified.

That's when his mind kick-started itself, and he bolted upright, causing his back and neck muscles to scream in pain.

"SHIT," he agreed, pulling himself up and tried to put himself together, not wanting to look bedraggled in front of his mother, who was probably going to kill him today.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, clapping her hand over her mouth.

"It's fine, it's fine," he muttered, although it sounded like he was trying to convince himself. "Help me with my tie?"

She obliged, and soon enough he didn't look like he'd been hit by a hurricane. He just looked like he'd been in a fight with a sewer rat (and lost).

"You're fine with me leaving, right?" he questioned before apparating away, worrying that she might've been too fragile.

"Yeah," she nodded frantically, concerned about him, because his mother would surely go ballistic. "Now go!"

He appeared in front of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, trying one last time to smoothen down his hair and his clothes, before swinging the door open. He'd prayed to every deity in the universe, if there were any, that his mother wouldn't realise, but obviously, the universe was against him.

And so Walburga Black stood there, with the most fearsome of expressions on her face, and his heart felt like it had stopped. Actually, he wished it had stopped so he wouldn't have to deal with her.

Again, the universe was against him, and his heart didn't stop. Unfortunately.

Shit.

⚜