Sickly
April 28th, 1980
“How DARE you!” Regulus had screamed as he pointed his finger into Dumbledore’s unbothered face. “How DARE you think that for one second, ONE SECOND, that this information would mean so little to me!”
When the meeting had ended with just the Dark Lord and his most loyal, Regulus made a decision that he knew was stupid, reckless even. He had acted as impulsive as Sirius would have. Maybe it was something in their family genes that made them act so dramatically or maybe it was in the way that they were raised that made them have these sudden outbursts.
After Voldemort had used Bellatrix as his way to make a point, rather than Regulus as he thought he would, he had dismissed them all and everyone but Narcissa left Bellatrix to lay on the floor. Not a single one of them, but her own sister, wanted to further upset the Dark Lord, so they ignored her as she quietly choked out her tears on the floor and each got up and left. Regulus had had the thought to check on her before he left, but after everything he had just seen, everything that could have so easily been him, he just wanted to leave and leave he did. Then, the next thing he knew, he was bashing on the Headmaster’s office door until he let him in - screaming violent and ugly words at the old wizard as he just watched.
“How DARE you not tell me that my brother’s best friend and his family are in danger!” He screamed through burning tears. “HOW DARE YOU!”
He screamed and he screamed and he screamed until he thought he might lose his voice. He was surprised that he had never gotten around to throwing things, but then again, he didn’t often yell like this and he seemed to be doing more and more of that lately. He wasn’t even sure what it was that he was screaming about. Was he screaming because he was worried that Sirius would lose his best friend? Was he screaming because the two people who embody everything good in life had become the number one target of the strongest dark wizard that lived? Was he screaming because the life of their newborn child was already in danger? Or because he himself was worried about James… Maybe it was all of it… But he barely knew them, he only knew them through what Sirius had told him. So why the hell did he care so fucking much?
That was almost a month ago.
In the time that had passed, his motivation continued to waiver. Everyday felt like he was dragging himself into something he didn’t want any part of.
Ever since Severus had informed them of the prophecy, it seemed as though the Dark Lord was growing madder by the second. Every order he gave them felt unnecessary, carrying out an obsolete task that seemed to have no purpose to any of them, but not a single Death Eater would ever dare question “why?” when he gave a new order.
He was insistent that they were of the utmost importance, carrying out everything to the last detail - hunting down certain witches or wizards he needed for answers, patrolling small and isolated villages for unknown reasons, or simply killing anyone he deemed a threat. The Dark Lord had become paranoid.
Regulus had managed to avoid killing anyone, usually giving the courtesy to Barty who often took the job with a worrying glee, but what could he have expected from him? The most he would do was the questioning, simply trying to gather the answers the Dark Lord had wanted, or rather he wanted. Any information the Dark Lord would want was often collected by Regulus and he made sure to keep it that way. Yes, it did mean that he would have to use some pain when they refused to answer, but his mother had always done that to him and he had survived. It’s not like he enjoyed causing them pain, but if he wanted answers and wanted to keep up his facade, he had no other choice. At least he wasn’t the one killing them in the end.
He didn’t have to do it too often at least, but he was starting to worry that the other Death Eaters were enjoying it more than they had in recent years. He couldn’t let it show, so he’d laugh alongside them, then as soon as he was away from them, his stomach would give out and he’d be sick. It had always bothered him just a little bit before, but recently, it was starting to get to him. He could still do what needed to be done, even if he hated himself for it, but almost every time he had to use an unforgivable curse, he would understand just a little more why they were unforgivable.
When he had finally stopped retching, Regulus weakly pulled himself up off the ground, wiping his mouth then the dirt and grass from his pants below his knees.
He had just come back from another patrol of a small village near Little Hangleton where Barty, Evan, and a few other Death Eaters had decided they were bored of patrolling and wanted to have some fun. They had found a few muggles, all innocently trying to walk home from a night out and picked them as their new puppets. They played around with them for a while like a cat who had caught their prey and viciously laughed as they had their fun, throwing around curses as if they were just simple charms. Regulus stood back and watched, silently kicking himself for not stopping them and letting the muggles go. When they had finally decided they had played with their food enough, Barty, once again, took the honours of putting them out of their misery. Regulus had just hoped none of them had seen him flinch.
When their patrol was finally finished, Regulus rushed out of sight and apparated away, landing in the park just across the street from his house. The second his body stopped spinning and he landed, he fell to his hands and knees, feeling dizzy and nauseous as if he hadn’t stopped spinning at all.
As he finally stood up again and brushed himself off, he couldn’t help but feel angry on top of everything else. Angry at the Dark Lord, angry at the people he called his “friends”, angry at Severus, angry at Bella, angry at Dumbledore, angry at his parents, angry at everyone… but most of all, angry at himself. He was angry at the way people saw him the way he was seeing Barty, he was angry that he had to quietly continue to hide in the hopes that maybe he was helping, and he was angry that he had to just stand by and let innocent and unarmed people die just because they found it fun.
But this was his life now and there wasn’t a single person he could tell all of this to… or was there?
Feeling as though he was at his breaking point, tired of everything and everyone, he remembered just one person who never judged him harshly or made him feel stupid like everyone else did. It was late at night, he knew that, but he couldn’t convince himself to go into his own house. Even though he felt weak and it might have made him sick again, he didn’t care and turned on the spot again, apparating to the Forest of Dean, just outside of the little, sky blue cottage. One light was on in an upstairs window and he really hoped it was the right person who was still awake.
Walking up the path to the door and knocking a couple of times, he leaned on one hand on the doorframe, trying to steady himself again and taking a couple deep breaths so he wouldn’t feel nauseous.
When the door finally opened, Pandora was in her pajamas, covered up by her dressing robes and her hair was down. She yawned as she leaned against the door.
“Regulus? What are you doing here at this hour?” She asked.
“I… I’ve done something so stupid and I- I didn’t know where else to go.” He said.
Pandora didn’t say anything, but looked him over in the state he was in. She pulled the door open and nodded her head once for him to come in.
“I’ll put the kettle on.”
Regulus waited on the yellow, beat up couch in her living room where she had insisted on wrapping him in a quilt blanket while he waited for tea. When she finally came out with the two mugs she handed him one that already had about the amount of milk he would have usually had in his tea. She sat down on the other end of the couch, pulling some of the quilt blanket over her legs she had tucked under herself.
“So? What is this incredibly stupid thing that you’ve done?” She asked.
“Working for Dumbledore.”
“Oh, how awful.” She said sarcastically.
Regulus stared into his cup of tea.
“Remember when you asked me what the locket was for and I told you not to tell anyone or else we’d both be in danger?” Regulus questioned.
“You haven’t gotten me killed, have you?”
“No… I hope not” Regulus chuckled a little. He looked back up at Pandora. “I was a Death Eater, Pandora… Technically, I still am.”
Pandora didn’t look surprised, but she did look a little more serious now, staring intently into Regulus’ eyes which made him feel a little awkward. She didn’t seem to notice. She took another sip of her tea and Regulus furrowed his brow at her.
“You don’t seem surprised.” He said.
“Was I supposed to be?” She asked. “The seemingly perfect heir to the House of Black? Made a Death Eater? It’s hardly shocking, Reg.”
“‘Suppose so…” He sighed.
Regulus stared back down into his cup of tea again and watched as the milky drink slowly swirled in his cup. Pandora continued to stare at him, not caring to hide her gaze. She tilted her head a little.
“You must know it hasn’t made me look at you any differently.” She finally said softly. “I mean, if it had, would I have let you into my home the first time?”
“Would you have?” He asked.
“Regulus, if any other Death Eater had shown up on my doorstep, asking for me to help them, I would have blown us both up on the spot.” She said flatly. “I may not have any part on either side, but I sure as hell will not let You Know Who take me. Not without a fight.”
“But not me?”
“But not you.”
Pandora took another sip of her tea, finishing her cup and placing it down on the coffee table. She turned back to Regulus again, leaning on her side, against the back of the couch.
“So, tell me,” she started, “how did you go from Death Eater to…”
“Dumbledore’s spy?”
She nodded.
Where could he have possibly started? When he was desperate to prove himself to the Dark Lord and gain his approval so he offered up his house elf’s life? When he accidentally saved said house elf’s life from drowning and stumbled onto the Dark Lord’s secret? When he tried to retrieve the locket and nearly drowned himself until his estranged brother saved his life? Or maybe when he and Sirius had their last fight or better yet, maybe the day he was born into this godforsaken world! No… too much.
He started at the day of that meeting, when he made his first mistake. After that, it felt as though everything else was just spilling out of him. He talked for ages and not once did Pandora interrupt him. She continued to intently listen to him, refilling their teacups when they became empty, letting him tell her everything. When he was finally done, he felt like he was out of breath with no idea how long he had blabbered on about all of his problems - the Dark Lord and him being his most trusted, the horcruxes he just seemed to keep stumbling on, his cousin not trusting him, thinking he was going to be tortured and killed, watching people he once called his friends do the torturing and killing… having to torture people himself… If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought she had put veritaserum in his tea.
“So you’ve spoken to your brother then?” She finally asked, seemingly unfazed by every other detail he had given her.
“Yes, a few times now.” Regulus nodded.
“Well, that’s one positive thing you have now, is it not?”
“It’s alright.” He shrugged.
“Always so sentimental, Reg.” She softly chuckled.
He wasn’t sure what it was about Pandora that made him feel okay to say everything on his mind. He rarely ever shared his feelings or what he was thinking unless it would gain him something, but it was like when she was in his presence, he could just say anything and she’d listen along and soak in every word and carry it with her like it were her own secrets.
Maybe it was because when they were in school, she didn’t often speak to people when she didn’t need to. He didn’t either. Or maybe it was because her presence always seemed calm and unbothered. Whatever it was, he wondered why he had so long neglected to have a friend like her in his life. One that liked to listen rather than speak. One that cared to know what was on his mind. One that had never once seen him as anything other than just, Regulus. Not a Death Eater, not a Black, not Sirius’ little brother, just Regulus. While she may have known all those things about him, she knew they weren’t who he was. She had never seen him the way that he saw Barty.
“I have a question,” she stated, “why did you come here so late at night just to tell me all of this? I mean I know we sort of spoke a few times in school and I made the locket for you, but if you weren’t supposed to tell anyone any of this, then why did you?”
“I don’t know… Just needed to get it off my chest and you were the only person I could think of… I’m not really sure why, I just feel like I’m losing my mind trying to help the Order while also not getting caught. I ran into James that one day at Gringotts then when my cousin discovered the goblet was gone, she went ballistic, but I think that was more for fear of her own life…” Regulus lowered his head again. “I can’t blame her… It was awful what the Dark Lord did to her. It feels like everyone’s losing their minds.”
“I suppose that’s the pleasure of war.” She said.
They both sat in silence for a moment. Then, Pandora kicked her legs back out from under her and stood up, stretching her arms.
“Not to be a poor host, but it is getting rather late.” She said as she stretched out her legs too.
Regulus stood up as well, throwing the quilt back over the couch and stretching his back as well. She led him back to the front door and he gathered his cloak. Pandora opened the door for him and as he stepped outside, he stopped and turned back to her slightly drowsy eyes that watched him.
“Thank you… again.” He said as she leaned a little against the door frame. “For listening to me.”
“Of course, Regulus.” She nodded with a sleepy smile. “You can always stop by… preferably a slightly earlier hour… but I’ll be here to listen. Now go home and get some sleep, you look like you need it.”
“I could say the same to you.” Regulus chuckled.
“And whose fault would that be?”
Regulus smirked a little.
“Goodnight, Pandora”
“Goodnight, Reggie.”
She stepped back and closed the door and he heard the sound of a lock click as he turned away and left the little blue cottage.
The next morning he found himself waking up in his bed, feeling a little more rested than he had in a long time. A ray of sunlight was peeking through the curtains over his window, casting a sliver of light along the floor and over his bed and illuminating the rest of the room. He continued to lay in his bed for a while, enjoying the warmth from the sunlight and his blankets over him for as long as he could.
The thought of everything plaguing his life still lingered in the back of his mind, gnawing at the corners of his mind so he would pay attention, but it was the last thing he wanted to think about right now. He just wanted to enjoy this one moment - just this once. But of course, as everything in his life went, he never got to enjoy anything long. Just as he was feeling some sense of ignorant bliss as he pretended he had no problems in life, the problems came knocking at his door - quite literally.
His father barely waited after he had knocked before he swung the door open and stepped in, already fully dressed with his straight, sharp face that held not even a hint of emotion. Regulus quickly sat up at the sudden entrance and stared at his father.
“Get up and get dressed immediately,” he demanded, “your mother is dead.” Then, he left.
Suddenly, he felt sick again.
~~~
June 8th, 1980
The funeral had been held at their home in early May. Many guests had shown up to give their condolences to Regulus and Orion. Unsurprisingly, Sirius had not come. When Regulus broke the news to him, his only response was a single laugh, a “good riddance” and a slammed door. He knew he shouldn’t have expected anything more from him, who was he kidding? He himself was not that upset truth be told, but she was still his mother. She was an evil and cruel woman, one that he thought he might have killed himself if she drove him to it, but then again, she had done her worst to him and all he did was cry, then grow silent.
After she had died, his father seemed to lock himself away in his study everyday. Regulus rarely ever saw him leave and the times that he did, he was disheveled and reeked of whiskey. If Regulus ever tried to speak to him, his words would come out slurred or violent, sometimes both, so eventually he stopped trying to speak to him altogether.
And then one day in early June, he died too. Drunk and slumped in his chair until he had completely drank himself to death. It was a rather sad scene for a man who once prided himself on his perfect image and high status and of all people, Regulus had to be the one to find him.
Narcissa had helped him with the funeral and the other legalities of becoming the sole inheritor of the will. He hadn’t even turned nineteen yet and here he was as the now official head of what was left of the Black family.
The house became unnaturally quiet after that. It had always felt quiet after Sirius had left, but now it felt out of place. For such a large house with so many possessions still inside of it, it felt so empty, but the coldness of the house that always stopped it from feeling like home still lingered in every room. Every door he opened and every room he entered, he half expected to hear his mother yell at him for something out of his control or to see his father scowl up at him from his seat where he was reading through paperwork he had accumulated, but everytime, the rooms were empty - eerily quiet and smelling stale.
He already hated living in that house for as long as he did, but now he couldn’t seem to stay in it for very long at all, visiting Pandora more often than before.
The first time, he wasn’t entirely sure what to tell her, he just knew he didn’t want to be anywhere around his father. So, he stayed as late as she would let him, just talking to her.
“My mother’s just died.” He had said on her doorstep.
“I’ll put the kettle on.” She had replied. Those five words had become a phrase he enjoyed hearing.
The second time was just after he had told Sirius about their mother and had slammed the door on him. He didn’t have to say anything that time to her, she just opened the door and went to the kitchen. That time he talked for a little while, but then decided that he had talked enough, so Pandora talked for a little while instead, telling him about her life and what was going on with her. Apparently, she had been seeing one of their old classmates, Xenophilius Lovegood, and she was convinced she was going to marry him. That had lightened his spirits a little bit.
The third time was just after his father’s funeral. She had expected him to arrive that time, him having told her the date of the funeral.When he arrived, she had the tea already in their cups with his milk and her sugar, hot and ready for both of them. That night, they both talked, never once mentioning the funeral or anything plaguing them at the moment. That night they just laughed together, avoiding the tears and the melancholy for just a little while before he’d have to go back to the empty house on Grimmauld Place.
Then, the last time they spoke, it was not at her little cottage. That morning she had unexpectedly shown up at his door instead, taking her turn to invite herself in, but she did not look upset or sick or hurt - she looked excited.
“Dora? What are you doing here?” He had asked in surprise. He hadn’t meant to sound rude, he just hadn’t expected her at his door. It was only fair though.
She rushed inside with a smirk across her face as he closed the door.
“Are you the only one here?” She asked him.
“Yes?” He replied.
“Good. I had an idea.”
“An idea? For what?”
“I think I know how you can get that diary from the Malfoys.”