Black Rose [Regulus Black]

"I'm bored."

Regulus grunted as he rolled off of the couch and stood up, stretching his arms. "We still haven't found anything."

"I know, but we've been at it for hours," Alessandra groaned, flopping off the couch on to the floor. "I don't think I've read this much in my entire life."

"But we need to find something and we need to do it fast," he insisted, fully invested in the task of finding Horcruxes. A lot was at stake for him, not just his life but probably Alessandra's as well. If the Dark Lord found out about his treachery, the man would make sure she was six feet under before wiping him off the Earth too.

"I know," she repeated, and she did know that he was right. The sooner they got this over with, the better, because his life was on the line and if anyone found out about what Reg had done, he'd probably end up dead. "My brain just feels like a big pile of spaghetti at this point, I just can't comprehend anything I'm reading anymore."

He pursed his lips, feeling awful for dragging her into all this. "Let's take a break then."

"Thank God," she mumbled, her head flopping onto the table, and she glanced at him sideways. "How many do you think he has?"

"I have no idea," he admitted.

"So, what, we find as many as we can, and just when we think we've found enough, it's revealed that he has more than we thought, and we end up dying?"

"Pretty much."

She stared at him, shocked. "This is a suicide mission."

"Yep."

"So there's absolutely nothing you know about him? I mean he had to have been an actual human being before this, do you have any information on that?"

"No, nobody knows."

"Nobody," she echoed. "Have you asked Dumbledore? That man's a fossil, surely he would know."

"I don't think he knew about the Horcruxes until I told him, so I don't think he'd know about how many of them there are."

"No, but he would know Moldywart, right? All villains start somewhere."

He contemplated it. As much as he hated the very idea of asking Dumbledore for help, she did have a point. That old coot was a bloody know-it-all, and he was the leader of the Order, so he would've had some basic understanding of who his enemy was. He had to.

"I guess we could ask him," Reg grumbled, really not wanting to interact with the Order more than necessary, out of safety and out of spite.

If Sandra was a dog, her ears would have perked up. "Perfect. So now that we've done something, can we please stop this? My brain hurts."

He huffed. "Fine."

"Thank God," she sighed.

A few moments of silence passed. Then —

"I'm still bored."

"What do you want to do then? It's midnight."

"I don't know," she whined. "I'm just bored."

He rolled his eyes, frustrated because nothing had come out of hours' long research and because she was being so vague and his brain wasn't functioning enough to come up with something. He just wanted to go home to his telescopes-

"I have an idea."

Ten minutes later, he was fervently tugging a shivering Alessandra by her arm, and for once in his entire life, he was actually excited to go back Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Why are you shaking so much?" he questioned, noticing the goosebumps on her skin.

"Oh, I don't know," she whispered, her teeth chattering. "I'm out on the streets at midnight with a questionable character, and I'm bloody cold because the temperature is negative."

"You're exaggerating, it's only 15 degrees," he chided her, taking off his coat and putting it around her. "Also, questionable character? I thought we'd established a relationship deeper than that, you wound me."

"So had I, but you then dragged me off to a place where I'm not welcome, at this ungodly time," she retorted, pulling his coat around herself tighter and glaring at the side of his face. He seemed at ease in the cold, the streetlights casting part of his face into darkness and making him look so much more ominous in the chilly September night. "Seriously, what if your mother sees us? She's going to get the wrong idea."

"She won't."

"And how do you know that?"

He hushed her at that which elicited a scowl from her, and then beckoned at her. To his credit, his mother wasn't lying in wait so she didn't see them, thankfully, and Sandra's tense shoulders relaxed. She was glad that his mother was out of the way, because she didn't think she'd be able to handle it then.

She followed him up the stairs, trying to walk as softly as she could in the probable but terrible event that Walburga heard them and pitched another hissy fit. She hadn't really thought about it before, but it felt like there were thousands of stairs in Number 12 Grimmauld Place, with each floor leading to a completely different environment. She'd assumed there were only about four or five floors in the house, but it felt like there were a billion more. Another strange thing was that the house seemed almost alive at night. The shadows weren't just shadows, they looked like they lived and breathed and spoke a tale of their own. The walls weren't just walls, they seemed to be moving of their own accord and paving the paths they wished to pave. The trinkets stacked by the walls, medallions and containers and portraits shrouded in glass also seemed alive, observing those that dared to pass by. While it was all so eerie, she couldn't help but admire the beauty of the house that was brought out by the rise of the darkness.

After what seemed like an eternity, they reached what she assumed was the final landing below the roof, and he eagerly tugged her towards...

"A wall?" she whispered, watching him closely to check whether he truly had lost the plot.

He didn't reply, instead pulling out his wand and tracing it in some obscure patterns. She was now starting to get extremely creeped out and had even considered running away as quickly as possible, because Reg seemed almost hypnotized at that point. Actually, hypnotized wasn't the correct word, he looked possessed. He was moving as though he were in some sort of dream-like trance, and his eyes were glassy as he gazed at that blank wall as though it was the most divine thing on Earth.

Just when she was about to make a run for it, the wall began glowing, and her curiosity won over. It first began with an outline, and soon the cement of the wall within the rectangular outline was melting to form a door. Reg smartly bowed before her and opened it, looking extremely regal with his head bowed and robes gracefully swirling about him in a pool of darkness. "After you."

She sucked in a breath as she walked in, absolutely mesmerized by what she was seeing. A heavenly darkness lay overhead, casting the entire room into the most gorgeous, inky black colour. It wasn't the kind of darkness which came with shutting your eyes in fear or staying in a very closed space; it was the kind that infiltrated your senses in the best way possible, making you want to stay there forever. She realised with a jolt that it was the night sky, peppered with thousands of shimmering stars that she could've sworn weren't there outside. It felt artificial because the skies overhead showed smoke in lieu of stars so she could just tell that it was otherwordly, but it was the most beautiful piece of nature she'd ever gotten to witness in her life.

"Hello there," she heard Regulus murmur, and she jumped in shock, thinking that there was someone else in the room with them. But no, he was hunched over and...wiping something and saying something indistinguishable under his breath, and that same sense of foreboding came over her again, because it was pitch black and she couldn't see anything and now Reg was talking to himself.

"Who are you talking to?" she queried shakily, terrified because this felt like one of those moments in the storybooks where the villain was revealed along with his next victim.

Silence fell, and she flinched when she felt something small being pressed into her hand within a few seconds. Her vision tilted vigorously for a few fleeting seconds, and when the sensation stopped, she realised her vision was tinted and she could see so much more. She looked down to see a small black pin sitting in her hand, and realised that it was similar to the one he always wore on his collar.

"You need to have that on your person to see clearly, so you should probably pin it to stop it from getting lost," he explained, still looking around at the impressive room. "What do you think?"

Now that she had gotten over her initial shock, she took the time to truly see what was in front of her, and to say it was impressive was an understatement. Words couldn't do it justice, it was that splendid. The room was twice as large as her home. Telescopes were positioned around the room, all pointing in different directions at different angles. There was a table in the far corner, which only highlighted the massive size of the room, and she could make out that there were a few instruments neatly placed on it. It looked so put together, but the papers told a different story. Pinned to the walls were thousands of sheets, with meticulous, hand-drawn sketches and what she presumed were excerpts of passages taken from printed books. The sheets were contrastingly messy in an ardent way, and she could just picture him sitting there and furiously writing till his fingers were covered in ink and bruises.

"Whoa."

A proud grin flashed on his face, and her heart stirred while she watched him dote over the telescope nearest to him. He treated it gently as though it were a living entity, and she decided then and there that she could die happily with that image in mind. Regulus Black with tousled hair and the two top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and a smile on his face that made him look like the happiest person on Earth, it was a vision that she wanted to preserve in her heart and her mind forever, even when she was a ghost.

It was fairly obvious what this place was, but it was obscure at the same time, because she had so many questions she wanted to ask. As if he'd read her mind, he turned to face her after a few seconds, looking completely at ease on the floor as though it was his natural habitat.

"Mother and Father thought that Astronomy was a dead subject that didn't need to be learnt outside of school, and that their precious Heir should spend his time learning something more 'useful'. So, I created this place in fourth year as a nice getaway."

"It's so good," she whispered, "It's beautiful. But I have to ask, where exactly is this? It can't be the roof, it doesn't feel like it."

"It isn't the roof," he agreed. "It's one floor below it, and I cast a few charms which allowed me to see through the roof and right past the smog. As for where exactly it is, I can't really give you a definitive answer. It's on the fifth floor, but it also leads to my room without stairs, and my room is on the fourth floor." He pointed towards a door in the far distance, and she took a minute to process how fantastic this was. It was well-concealed and well-designed, and perfect in her eyes, and he'd done this when he was only fifteen.

She sat down beside him, slightly afraid that he would object to her bothering him, but he only shifted to the side to give her more room, and began pointing out all the celestial beings for her. His excitement was endearing, and she didn't think she'd ever seen him so enthusiastic and happy about something. He was clearly passionate about this, and his mood seemed to have mirrored onto her, because she was very content and didn't mind staying that way for the rest of her life.

"You seem to know everything about astronomy."

"I don't think that's possible, there'll always be something new to learn," he replied, trying to look modest but failing because he was so obviously basking in the praise. "Don't they teach even a little bit of this at Muggle schools?"

She shook her head. "No, until today, the only thing I knew that was remotely related to this was about the Star signs, and that was because of my obsessed friend."

"Star signs?" He looked oblivious to the term.

"It's some stupid thing, where they base your star sign on your birth date, and then use it to determine your personality traits. Load of rubbish, if you ask me. For instance, my birthday is on the 15th of September, so I'm a Virgo."

He still looked clueless, so she sighed. "Okay, when is your birthday?"

"The 2nd of April."

"So, since you're born on that date, you're an Aries."

He frowned. "No, I'm a Regulus."

"No, I mean you are, but your Star sign is Aries."

"So what are my personality traits then?" he asked, kind of confused.

"I don't know," she mumbled, her face heating up. "I didn't bother to memorize that part, I only remember this because my friend broke up with someone who was an Aries due to their 'incompatibility'."

His eyebrows furrowed. "So... I can't be dated? I'm undatable, unattractive?"

"No!" she exclaimed, horrified that she was messing this up so badly. "No, it's different for different people, it's subjective. Besides, the whole concept of star signs is a load of nonsense, because the day you were born doesn't determine how you'll turn out."

"Wait, so your birthday is next week?" he asked, moving on to different matters. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I...forgot," she stammered. "Besides, it isn't a big deal."

"But it's your birthday, it is a big deal," he told her, even though he'd never really celebrated his birthday before. "You know what? I will take you out somewhere to celebrate that dat."

She shook her head furiously, not wanting him to spend more on her than necessary. "No, it's really not a big deal."

"Did someone die that day?"

"No!" she exclaimed.

"Then it is a big deal."

She was at a complete loss of words, because she'd never really celebrated her birthday, and not many had ever cared to ask. She was also thankful for the dark-lighting that didn't allow her reddening cheeks to be revealed. "You really don't have to."

"But I want to," he insisted.

"Thank you," she mumbled, picking imaginary dust off of her jeans. "But again, you don't have to, it's just an ordinary day."

"Say that again and I will summon my mother up here."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, don't."

"I wasn't going to," he snickered. "She'd go ballistic if she found out about this place."

It took her a minute to figure it out, but when she did, she was baffled. "Wait, so your family doesn't know about this?"

"Not a living soul," he declared proudly. "Except you, of course."

He turned back to his telescope, jotting down something in his notebook, and she let a silly smile spread across her face. It was inane, she knew, but she felt honoured that he'd trusted her with this piece of information. They were lovely feelings, trust and companionship, and she prayed to every deity above that she would never lose it.

⚜

Lipstick. Mascara. Eyeliner. Dress. Heels. Purse. Hair. Hair?

Was her hair fine or was it too straight? Would curling it a little make it look better?

She gritted her teeth and let go of the single lock of hair that she was inspecting, pacing around the house and fretting over her appearance. She wasn't sure why she was worrying over her appearance so much, because it didn't really matter. She and Regulus had seen each other multiple times, and he'd even seen her in her pajamas occasionally, so why was she so nervous this time?

She jumped six feet in the air when she heard the doorbell ring, looking around frantically as though there was a fire. Her heartbeat had skyrocketed an unhealthy amount, and she felt sick, and she just wanted to call it off because she was convinced she was going to make a fool of herself.

Hi, Regulus, I just found out that my sister's dog died, and she's distressed, so I need to be with her.

Wait, she didn't have a sister.

Hi, Regulus, I just found out that my aunt died, and I need to console my family.

Nope.

Hi, Regulus, I just found out that my best friend's fish died, and she's upset, so I need to comfort her.

The doorbell rang again, and she quickly hurried over to the door and pulled it open.

"Happy birthday-"

"Something died," she blurted out at the same time that he wished her, not thinking at all when she said that.

"What?!"

"Nothing!" she exclaimed. "Hello!"

Regulus raised an eyebrow at her strange behaviour, but decided not to comment on it to spare her the humiliation, and instead chose to hand her the bouquet of black roses. Initially, when he'd gone out to buy her flowers, he was nervous because his mother had drilled it into his head when he was eleven that flower-giving was a subtle art that could speak a thousand messages. A flower, although beautiful and simple, could make or break a relationship. If one got the colour or the type wrong, it could lead to a disaster and potentially break off a valuable alliance. He'd spent at least two hours roaming about the flower shop, a small book in hand, while trying to pick the perfect flower, and then ditched it because it was taking too long and Alessandra probably didn't give two shits about it (and also because the florist was glaring daggers at him at that point).

"Er... the roses are black because..." He blubbered and gestured at his tattoo, worried that she thought that he found her birthday to be a sad occasion.

"I know," she took them from him gently, feeling absolutely unlike herself. In fact, the whole situation was surreal. Never in all their days of interactions had a conversation been so awkward, so she couldn't understand why today was so strained. "Thank you. They're lovely."

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you. So do you."

They were left smiling uneasily at each other in the doorway, not sure where to proceed from here. Neither of them had a clue on how to go about it. Perhaps it was the fact that it was the first time they were alone in an actual formal setting which turned their brains to mush, but hopefully they'd get over it soon.

"Shall we?" He handed out his hand for her to take, it was a warm, comforting, familiar gesture that eased up her nerves just a little.

She nodded.

Dinner at the restaurant went better, and they eased into coherent conversations. They were both hyperactive of their surroundings, of themselves and of each other, focused on the smallest things such as blinking with even intervals and the appropriate sizing of their reactions. The food was wonderful, the restaurant was wonderful, the interactions they were having were wonderful. But even then, they both felt like their brains were so muddled yet so active, and like their hearts were being squeezed in a way that wasn't exactly unpleasant but was tense, although none of them admitted it to each other.

The silence then continued as they walked back to her house, which was only a short distance from the restaurant they had dined at.

"Today was...interesting," she told him, discreetly sneaking glances at him every now and then.

"Yeah... yeah, it was." He stuffed his hands into his pockets, his eyes flicking through the street in front of her apartment building but not landing on her once (from what she noticed).

"Are you okay?"

"Are you?"

They both stopped in the middle of the street, looking at each other, and then burst into laughter.

"This has been ridiculous," she doubled over, not even sure why she found this so hilarious. "I mean, dinner was great and you were great but I was just feeling so awkward! I think it's because I haven't really been to a formal dinner or anything-"

"Honestly, I feel like the whole 'formality' thing got in the way, because even when my family used to take me to these dinners, I felt extremely out of place too."

"I still had fun though," she told him, ducking her head as heat rose to her cheeks. Her hands clenched and unclenched, and she took deep breaths, trying to get rid of her underlying nervousness. "Thank you so much, I've never actually had a birthday dinner before, so it means a lot to me."

"It's no problem, I'm glad you liked it," he waved it off, and then moved one step forward almost daringly, causing her breath to hitch. "So... good night?"

She blinked, not sure if it was the wine that was making her feel so stupid in the moment. Deciding that she was no longer in a position to speak coherently, she just nodded, looking at him while he looked right back. It seemed like the right thing to do in that moment, and she'd wanted to for a while, and this could help her find out if he wanted to as well.

However, in a split second, his calm demeanor had shifted to one of panic, his eyes wide and jaw dropped. She didn't quite understand what it meant, but just when she decided to move two steps forward, he moved one step back and turned on his heel, disappearing into the night and leaving her behind to wonder what the actual hell had just happened.

⚜