know your heart
“French?” Regulus closed the door behind them, “Really, Dorcas?”
Dorcas only scoffed in return. She flopped down heavily on the cot and gestured to Pandora to sit on the floor in front of her. Pandora did so and Dorcas cathartically began to unravel her ruined braid, letting the fine, pale hair come loose in her fingers.
Evan did not sit, electing instead to pace around like a peevish old show horse. He rubbed his knuckles together anxiously. Regulus leaned against the door, crossing his arms. The cold that had buried itself into his muscles had somewhat subsided.
“You do not need to speak in code here.” Regulus said.
“It’s not code. It’s a language.” Dorcas replied.
“A language they don’t speak.”
“That’s not my fault.”
“I do not expect,” Evan interrupted urbanely, “That we will be much more welcome on this vessel than on Malfoy’s.”
“But you will be alive,” Regulus deadpanned.
“And they will get us home?”
“Yes.”
Evan wrinkled his nose, “They did not get you home.”
“No,” Regulus sighed, “I chose to stay.”
“You call the captain’s coercion ‘choice’?”
“James didn’t coerce anyone,” Regulus said flatly, “And if you mean to insinuate that he purposely manipulated me through his affections, you’re mistaken.”
“I don’t want to see you fooled, Reg.”
“Yes,” Regulus huffed bitterly, “Because how much less believable is it that James could actually love me?”
Evan held Regulus’s eyeline, “You know I didn’t mean it that way.”
“No, you didn’t. But that’s what you said.”
“Can you blame me for my suspicions? They are perfect strangers.”
“James isn’t a stranger.”
“Not in your bed, he isn’t.”
“Evan!”
“But what of everywhere else?”
Regulus fumed, saying nothing. Evan’s persistent mistrust was not an uncommon attitude for him, only particularly irritating when it butted up against Regulus’s subversive hope that people were inherently virtuous. It was a belief that had been proven wrong time and time again, but Regulus couldn’t shake it.
“Would he be proud of you, say, in front of his friends? In the face of his own family?” Evan’s inquest was genuine.
“What are you trying to say, Evan?”
“I mean to say,” Evan continued patiently, “Does he treat you equally to everyone else?”
“He’s good to me. I told you as much.”
“I don’t ask about ‘good’. I ask about ‘equal’. They are different.”
“To you, maybe.”
“Why do you insist upon tangling yourself like this?”
“Like what? With people who are unlike you?”
“You don’t know them!” Evan shouted suddenly, stopping in front of Regulus at the door, “You know us! We’re your family! We love you! And you have never doubted that for a fucking second until he shows up and takes you away!”
Regulus was silent. This was Evan’s breaking point, the art of letting go. His love was often clouded, congealed with pride, but it was more principled, more faithful than he let show most of the time. His sense of family, much like his friends’, was warped a long time ago. He was not so keen to release what he had worked so hard to build together.
“We are all we have, Reg.”
“I know.”
“I am glad,” Evan said, “Happy, even, that you have found more on this ship. God knows you deserve it. But it is not enough for him to be ‘good.’ I cannot, in good conscience, let you be with people who do not accept you for all that you are.”
“Do you?” Regulus did not look at Evan when he said this.
Evan looked as if he had been slapped.
“How,” Evan asked lowly, “could you think that I do not?”
“Can you stop bickering, please?” Dorcas piped up. She had sufficiently untangled Pandora’s braid and was now plaiting it into two separate sections. She did not look at either of the boys as she spoke, concentrated on her work.
“This whole argument is completely stupid. Regulus, we live and die for each other. That is our way. You know this. That is non-negotiable. Evan, do not suddenly get so superior about our philosophies just because you don’t know how to express your worry.”
“But-” Evan began.
“Zip it,” Dorcas said sharply, “The adult is speaking, okay?”
The boys did not argue. Dorcas, for all her volatility, was the most direct of them all.
“I won’t sit here and listen to the two of you pull each other apart for no reason. We can admit this is all scary.”
Dorcas finished with Pandora’s hair.
“Now hug it out. This minute.”
Her childish solution made them all laugh, easing the tension. Regulus embraced Evan, who accepted the gesture without qualms, almost relieved he did not have to be the one to lower his sword first.
“I’m sorry,” Regulus said, “For worrying you.”
“I only worry that you will be taken advantage of again. You’re too kind for your own good.”
Regulus chuckled, “That is not the impression most get from me.”
“They don’t love you like we do,” Evan said, only partially sardonic, “We know your heart. It’s the best of all of ours by far.”
Regulus started to break away, but Evan held him close for just a second longer.
“Wipe your nose, Evan,” Dorcas stood, “And come sit down. Reg and I have something to say.”
Barty. The vision of his seizing body nearly knocked the breath out of Regulus. He knew the time would have eventually been upon him to come clean. There would never be a ‘right’ moment. There was only now. Now, with his grief fresh.
Evan took Dorcas’s place on the cot. He leaned his chin on top of Pandora’s head. Her eyes were closed, her face soft and tired. She looked so exhausted and vulnerable that Regulus could have cried.
He didn’t want to do this.
Dorcas stood next to Regulus and took his hand, braced for their audience like naughty students confessing to their professor. But this was all so much worse than playground infractions.
Dorcas took a deep breath. Unconsciously, Regulus did the same.
“Barty…” she began, and that was all she could manage before shutting down. She turned her face into Regulus’s chest and weeped. Regulus put his arms around her. The story was delivered quickly and brutally.
“We went looking for him on the ship. He had already been turned when we found him. He magicked Dorcas for Malfoy. She nearly threw herself off the ship before I stopped him.”
The crestfallen look on Evan’s face was nearly unbearable, but Regulus forced himself to finish.
“He tried to kill Dorcas. And he tried to kill me. There was nothing we could do. He’s gone.”
The quiet that followed was suffocating. Regulus slid to the floor, taking Dorcas with him. They were all stricken for a long moment.
Pandora was the first to speak.
“Was there no way to bring his body back?”
This was her only concern. Delivering their friend home.
Regulus shook his head. She accepted the truth with mute ease.
“Evan,” Dorcas mumbled, “Say something. Please.”
His answer in French was choked and merciful.
“Qu'il traverse la rivière vers la mort.”
May he cross the river to death.
Together, they all finished the commendation.
“En deuil, nous traverserons le rivage pour te retrouver.”
In mourning, we will cross the shore to find you.
“I knew from the moment that boy pulled you and Dorcas from the waters,” Evan admitted, “That he was lost to us.”
Regulus met Evan’s eyes. They were brimmed with tears.
“Thank you for coming back despite,” he said. Regulus only nodded.
And that was all there was.
Pandora’s following question held her fear.
“What do you mean, he ‘magicked’ Dorcas?”
“I don’t know exactly,” Regulus said, “But another man- ghoul- on board did the same to me as well. I couldn’t tell you how. All I know is that he was able to spell me with his voice alone. And it was…”
What was it, exactly? His own thoughts turned on him? The thoughts of others? None of it was certain, hadn’t been then, and wouldn’t be without an expert source.
“It was terrifying,” Dorcas said faintly.
“It was,” Regulus concurred, “It was as if he could have told me anything, anything at all, and I would have done it without question. He was speaking to my very soul. And it was awful, the things he said. It felt like my head was full of water. I couldn’t talk, couldn’t move.”
“Your eyes glassed over,” Dorcas said, “They became white, like you were rolling them all the way back.”
“As did yours.”
“What does this mean? About…Malfoy’s…magic?” Pandora questioned.
“Remus said ghouls could become vessels.” Evan remembered suddenly, “That their masters could pour it into them. They could command their own store of magic.”
“But without Malfoy’s intention?”
“Maybe,” Regulus said, “Maybe not.”
“How did you get them to stop?”
Pandora’s inquiry was innocent enough, but it brought back a volley of unpleasant images for Regulus. The crack of his sword against Barty’s skull. The leaking ink from his wound, spilling out onto the planks. His roving, wild eyes, darting sound frenetically.
“You have to knock them down in some way,” he finally admitted, “Ghouls cannot die. They can only be incapacitated.”
“Meaning?” Evan asked.
“Meaning,” Regulus explained carefully, “Any solid blow will revert them back to empty vessels. Not dead or alive, but somewhere in between.”
Evan’s sudden silence was torturous. Regulsu babbled just to fill the space.
“I really don’t know. It was all so sudden.”
“He didn’t even recognize me,” Dorcas said, “Barty. He said my name. And my sister’s. But it was all false. He didn’t comprehend what he was saying, let alone who he was saying it to. Malfoy was controlling him.”
Pandora nodded, absorbing the whole story. The movement tipped Evan’s chin off of her head. He readjusted, setting his forehead into the curve of her shoulder.
“I should like to talk to the boy again,” he said, “The scarred one. Remus. He knows about this sort of thing.”
“He explained a bit of it to us.” Pandora said.
“He did? When?” Regulus asked.
“You were still on the ship,” Pandora clarified, “And we came down to talk to James. Remus was talking to me and I touched his face. He could feel I had magic and sat me down to tell me about it.”
“You have magic?!” Dorcas sat straight up, staring at Pandora.
“Of course,” Pandora said plainly.
Dorcas pointed at Evan accusatorily, “And you knew about this?”
“Of course. I was there,” Evan responded in turn.
“And you?” Dorcas looked up at Regulus, “Did you know about this?”
“That’s another issue I meant to bring up,” he said, pointedly to Dorcas and Evan.
“What’s the matter?” Evan asked.
Regulus glanced at Pandora expectantly. She sighed.
“I necromanced Regulus.”
Dead quiet.
“You…WHAT?!” Dorcas was hysterical, “Regulus is dead?!”
“Obviously not.” Regulus said dispassionately.
“But you died, didn’t you?” Evan asked.
“Well yes. You need to die to come back to life.”
“Sort of an entry-level requirement,” Pandora agreed. She held up her scabbed palm. Regulus pulled aside his shirt to reveal the bloody handprint over his chest.
“We can’t leave you two alone for five minutes, can we?” Evan said, only partially joking.
“Funny things we do, don’t we Dora?” Regulus quipped weakly.
“If it…” Pandora began, “If it changes the way you all feel about me, I understand. It was an evil thing to do. A selfish thing. If it changes the way you feel, it’s okay. I don’t feel the same about myself anymore either.”
Evan studied Pandora's hand for a moment before covering it with his own.
“It doesn’t,” he said, firmly and automatically, “And you are neither evil or selfish for wanting to save someone. In fact, it makes you quite the opposite.”
“This is blowing my mind,” Dorcas gaped.
“I haven’t exactly gotten used to it either,” Regulus said.
“No shit. You died.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“You kinda smell…deathy.”
“That would be the ocean, Dorcas. You smell like it too.”
“No I don’t. I smell lovely.”
“A bit fishy.”
“You’re just jealous.”
“Of what? Your fish perfume?”
“At least I’m alive.”
“Fuck you.”
Regulus laughed, but it didn’t quite reach his heart. A heart that still beat, mind him, just…not the same way everyone else’s did. Dorcas’s teasing had only reminded him of his painful new reality; he wasn’t alive. Not anymore.
But had he ever been alive, really and truly? Regulus thought of the heartache that weighed him down constantly; losing Sirius and then getting him back, his family and their pains. Waking up for years in a cold house, with cold people. Feeling like a stranger in his body, a ghost in a broken shell.
Kissing James made him feel alive. James’s mouth pouring its warmth into his. The gentle tug of their hands, young and greedy and reckless, on shirts and hair and skin. Talking to James made him feel human, like a person that other people could care about and be interested in. Loving James made him feel worthy of love in return.
Maybe Regulus was just trying to make himself feel better. But maybe such love was the only definition of life that mattered at all.
It was impossible to say.
“We’ll talk to Remus,” Regulus decided, “He’ll know what to do-”
“Do you feel that?”
Pandora stood, untangling herself from Evan. She crossed to the door, light and slow, as if tiptoeing through sand, and pressed her cheek to the wood. She closed her eyes.
“Dora, what is it?” Evan asked. He started to get up as well, but Pandora held up her finger in warning. She raised it to her lips.
Regulus joined her side. Surprisingly, Pandora permitted this. She grabbed Regulus' hand and pressed it against the door next to her face.
“What do you feel?” she asked quietly.
Regulus concentrated on the sensation of his skin against the wood, the prickliness of the grain, the heat seeping through from the hallway. And the pressure. Regulus could feel the slightest pressure, a nail being driven through the door and into his hand. A nail, perhaps, of energy, thin and focused, elongated through the hallway and around the corner.
Pandora looked at Evan and said, “Remus’s hook. I can feel what he was talking about.”
“About what?” Regulus hissed.
“Magic,” she said breathlessly, “The pull of magic.”
Realization hit like a hammer to Regulus’s chest.
“We’re not alone on this ship.”