Chapter Text
mother has taken to pacing in the drawing room,the click clack of her heels and her occasional scoff, an angry mutter reached his ears; but regulus kept his head down, soft curls falling to shroud his face to his pursed, bitten raw lips ad a pale face. fingers curled around each other in his lap as if in prayer to lady magic — and if he was silently mouthing out a plea nobody was none the wiser — and legs crossed tightly together to keep his nervous tremors from showing.
it was a weakness he couldn’t allow himself,
not even at his home nor between his family.
he was to become the black heir after the letter, or loose everything he was. it was terrifying, and a far away notion in his youth when he had remained ignorant of a deeper wedge of hatred and pity siruis shared with the others in their family.
but now — it was his only duty and the letter would make or break it.
a click of a box, and father lit up a cigar by the family tree. regulus could see him still leaning against the wall, silent as a wraith as his mother’s dress swished by his limited sight again. could picture him stare at regulus’s name with dead eyes, an unresponsive grey and just as haunting.
his grandfather though, was in father’s study. in father’s seat, an imposing figure as he went the work he brought with him on father’s desk — waiting for the letter which would determine his life to come through the window.
“ please let them be from a good family, pureblood with old magic”, he breathed. “ lady magic, i beg of you”.
kreacher came in with coffee and tea, scones and tea cakes and biscuits in dainty plates, voice reverent as he served them their afternoon tea.
regulus clung to the warmth of his tea cup and crumbling biscuit in his mouth, head a bit higher to catch a hint of annoyance on father’s face as he sighed, sipping at his tea as mother threw herself in her favourite chaise, her dress flowing around her. “it is half past two already, shouldn’t the letter be here by now?”.
“if you are so insistent, perhaps you should ask father”. father said. mother put her teacup on her saucer harshly and sound echoed. he winced. “and stop with this nonsense, it’s unbecoming of a woman your age”.
mother opened to snap and regulus ducked his head back down, having saw his grandfather striding down the hallway before either of his parents noticed.
“unbecoming”, she seethed, “ unbecoming is your father holing himself in your study and taking over my household. i had kreacher to stop his little bats from touching my porcelain twice today, and it is after the ghastly piece of toast in existence”.
her hair flared around her, her faces twisting into a sneer. father sneered back, knuckles pale and teacup creaking.
grandfather stopped in the doorway,having arrived on silent feet and a harsh glare on his face. sweat ran down his back,palms growing sweaty as his shaking grew worse. he wilted in to the soft armchair, trying to hide from the coming attention.
“now —“, his voice came out sharp as a whip and both his parents grew silent, faces blanking out as they straightened. grandfather was a scary man, but regulus knew that many respected him for it as well, for the way he managed the large numbers of their blood and lands and a position in the ministry. regulus just knew that even bellatrix grew silent in his presence and that terrified him.
“— that you two are done scabbing like children”.
he raised an opened ministry letter and his heart sank. “ the letter is here”.
it was bad.
grandfather was agitated, and mother was reaching with hesitant fingers to take the letter and fold it open. father beside her, steps silent as his father’s came to stand behind her to read it easily.
nails dug red crescents in his palm and regulus forced him to stiffen his movements.
they kept their expressions hidden under well curated masks as they read the letter twice, slowly as grandfather sat down on the nearest arm chair and watched him.
the silence broke when mother smacked her lips and said, “ i expected better than the rat”.
regulus hissed, heartbeat picking up —
“he is family”. father replied back, his voice firm and admonishing. “ our blood would remain true”.
— and sighing into a silent minute. slowly disentangling his fingers and slowly straightening up, the eyes stinging and mouth bitten red, blood trailing down his chin.
his family ignored his disheveled state, with grandfather staring at him with unidentifiable expression. “indeed, it will. you will write to cousin dorea about the news and urge her to bring her son with him at the family gala”.
father agreed, and regulus itched to take the crumpling letter in mother’s harsh grip and read it to himself, to see who was his match. but he hesitated, waiting for mother to either put it away or someone to bring it to him.
“but—“, mother started to complain.
“ the war is escalating right outside our doorstep, walburga and sooner or later they will want the black heir to join their ranks. the earliest your son is married, the more years he’ll see”. grandfather chided, his walking stick thumping against the wooden floor. “you’ll do well to remember that”.
mother closed her mouth tightly shut, her frame trembling with the telltale of an angry bout. regulus watched with a hitched breath, waiting for her to scream and his eyes trained on the letter. eyes squeezed shut and a mouth pulled to a frown, mother managed to trample her rage enough to hiss out an, “of course” and marched out and up the stairs and into his parent’s bedroom, producing to scream.
regulus had grown up with her quirks but this was new. she hated grandfather and never been shy to tell him so to his face or scream at him as he stared back impassively but she hadn’t so now.
why? regulus had thought she would’ve been proud of him standing up for his beliefs by joining the death eaters but instead —
they didn’t want him to join their ranks. he blinked at the place mother had stood moments ago, so like his brother and decided that he will think on it later that night.
right now there was a crumpled letter on the floor and father in between it.
regulus took a deep breath and lurched out his seat to grab the letter,clutching it in his hands.
“ regulus”. father said,acknowledging him. regulus turned his chin up and put the paper away beside his wand.
“yes, father?”
pale eyes, a translucent grey stared at him and father took a hesitant step forward to grab a shoulder and squeeze it in a mockery of comforting. “ you are young, you will learn to wear your expressions better and when not to. regardless… i am proud of you, my son”.
it wouldn’t surprise anyone in his family to know he had started crying halfway to his bedroom, and so regulus didn’t muffle his sobs as he climbed back into his space.
his father probably expected this outcome when he had said it but said he did and now regulus’s heart was aching as he took off his favourite dress pants and fancy sweater and buried himself under his many comforters.
his wand and letter forgotten as he cried into his pillow, wallowing in self pity. of his pitifully weak heart, of his parents who never warmed up to him and a brother to see their father utter the only thing they ever wanted from him.
it was absurd, that the moment they passed his match as satisfactory he said it. more surprising then mother holding on to her outburst for a few minutes, if he thought about it.
father must be washing his mouth with soup to get rid of the evidence neither of which he or his grandfather would confess it. the words had sent an embarrassing flush to his cheeks, stuttering through his words as he bid them a good afternoon and ran like a dragon was nipping at his feet.
it may as well be so, he had emotions and a letter waiting for him in his bedroom.
he sniffed at the thought , his tears coming to a stop as he pulled himself up and carefully placed his wand on his bedside table and pressed the paper flat, squinting at the cursive words writing useless introductory paragraphs at the start of the letter, congratulating on a match and a future relationship on behalf of the ministry and the department of mysteries whose unspeakable was assigned as his matchmaker — one unspeakable pretty boy, he told his name was.
and in the end, there was a name.
his match, ordinated through an old ritual the ministry swore left and right didn’t exist deep in the bowls of the department of mysteries. a soulmate given to you the day you were born, and allowed to know once all partners reached the age of maturity at seventeen. a rite of passage for magical beings since the beginning of time,kept alive through generations of matchmaking.
he had checked all of regulus’s prayers to lady magic thankfully and still fallen through to not be one of the best match his parents might consider for him. at least he was family, aunt dorea only child with a potter.
regulus didn’t remember a harridan potter but that didn’t matter, he will meet him at the gala next month regardless.