Chapter Text
Regulus wanted the mark on his arm gone. He’d tried burning it, causing his skin to melt to mere flesh, which was a pain to heal. He had taken a knife as sharp as James’ words, and slashed at the dull snakes and the irremovable skull. At the end, he was left with a scar on his wrist, disappearing up until it faded to his elbow, leaving the mark untouched.
That was a year ago, but he never stopped looking for a solution. Regulus scoured every library from a hidden kingdom in Indonesia to the depths of the tribes in the Amazon Jungle (of course, this was during raids and killing sprees on the orders of The Dark Lord). Over time, he had worked his way up the ranks. Being a student when he first joined, Voldemort put him to good use.
His parents could not have been prouder. It was a statement that caused a churning in Regulus’ stomach. He longed, craved for his freedom, but right now he was biding his time. The closer Regulus got, the closer he got to finding out how to kill the bastard.
But that would be harder than he realised, because sat around the table in the Riddle House was his most trusted inner circle. To Regulus’ left sat Narcissa Malfoy, with a face colder than frozen stone and her husband Lucius, who had the same look. However, when Regulus looked down slightly he saw their intertwined, ghostly white hands.
Out of all his cousins, Regulus had a soft spot for Narcissa. And, without attracting attention, he squeezed her arm. She stiffened, as if Regulus wished to do her harm, but he didn’t. He could never.
It could be because Regulus had built a reputation for himself. He was one of their most brutal, masochistic murderers, deciding to use prolonged torture, compared to a quick and painless killing curse. Bella delighted in the blood spilt, which may be why she was Voldemort’s third. She stood proudly by his side and volunteered for every mission. She strived to be the best, and to Voldemort, she almost was.
Regulus’ biggest competition was Severus Snape. Out of everyone, he was Voldemort’s second and it was confusing why. After all, Regulus knew Snape’s true blood status even if he called himself a Pureblood. Regulus knew his parents. It wasn’t difficult to rummage through the Wizarding Record when both the Ministry and Millicent Bagnold were incompetent.
Being a Black, he had powerful political influences, and being the Black Heir he had even more. Since his father was ill, he had more influence than ever. Whatever Regulus wanted, Regulus got. Maybe that was why Voldemort singled him out.
“Regulus, if you would stay behind.” Regulus obeyed and felt all eyes on him. As Narcissa left, she brushed her delicate hand on his stiff shoulder.
“My Lord.” Regulus bowed his head. “What do you request of me?”
“Out of everyone, young Regulus, you have proved your loyalty.” His voice sent tremors down Regulus’ spine. “I know how you work: you scheme, hide in the shadows and work in the background. Everyone in the Ministry knows of you, barely any have seen you.” He left a pause, so Regulus filled the gap.
“Where is this heading, my lord?”
“I need a locket, Regulus. It went missing a long time ago, I have yet to find out whose possession it is in. That task now belongs to you.” From his robe pocket, Voldemort pulled out a scrap piece of parchment cut from an old newspaper. “I need this locket, Regulus Black. And dare I say, your life is on the line.” Regulus had a hunch this was a bluff. If he dies, then the Black family line (at least the part The Dark Lord wanted to keep) dies with him.
Regulus took the paper, careful not to touch The Dark Lord's cold-blooded hands. The picture showed a locket with a snake in the middle, curving its way into an ‘S’. To the sides were small but impactful and detailed designs that ended with balls of silver to the side. Identical indents on the edges, patterns on the scales.
“Salazar Slytherin’s locket.” Regulus muttered. “My Lord, may I ask why you need this item?”
“That would be speaking out of turn.” Voldemort’s cold blue eyes flashed. The colour was barely visible around the white. Before Regulus knew it, a stinging cut formed on his cheek, but he didn’t flinch. It was a deep, but small, Diffindo .
“Yes, My Lord. My apologies, My Lord.”
Apparating back to Grimmauld Place, Regulus knew he would be home alone as Mother was with Father at St Mungos. “Kreacher!” He called.
The house elf appeared in front of him and Regulus almost smiled when Kreacher’s face lit up at his presence. “Master Regulus! You are back!”
“Yes I am, Kreacher. I am not to be disturbed until I call you, is that understood?”
“Whatever the Great Master Regulus wants he shall receive, Master Regulus!” Kreacher looked at him. “Would Master Regulus like any food? Is Master Regulus thirsty?”
“Black coffee, please, Kreacher. Have it sent to the library on the second floor.”
“Yes Master Regulus!” Kreacher disappeared.
Once the coffee was served and Regulus settled in the library, he accio’d all newspaper clippings kept tucked away. He planned to start from the bottom and work his way up. His first step was to find which article and what year the clipping was from. Mother and Father kept all important Daily Prophet’s for potential bargaining power and Regulus believed anything to do with the Founders possessions was worth keeping.
Within was an article from the twelfth century (wizards stealing the idea of spreading information to the masses quickly from the Muggles thinking of a ‘printing press’) of a boy who was killed after finding the locket. On it was a drawing of the boy’s dead body, with the locket being stripped from his hand. It moved exactly how a photo would now. The article described how the boy came into possession of the locket, found deep in the Slytherin Dungeon behind a brick in the common room, and the moment he put it around his neck, the boy was attacked. According to the article, the amount of letters sent home to parents for them to apparate into Hogwarts, spells at the ready, to get the locket. It said that after this incident, there would be anti-apparation wards all around Hogwarts’ grounds. Nowhere did it say whose parents took it.
Regulus needed access to history records of Hogwarts attendees. If he had those, he could look for whose family attended. He ruled out the muggleborns, most likely not understanding the importance or need for the locket.
The next few days, Regulus spent his time reading all the books the multiple Grimmauld Place libraries had to offer on Salazar Slytherin and the locket. When Mother and Father asked what he was doing, he said it was a special request from The Dark Lord and he wasn’t permitted to speak on the matter. They let it drop, but not without an attempt at fishing for information.
After finishing the last book, called Snake and His Locket (a childhood book based on Salazar and his locket that Regulus only read for the pure joy of it), Regulus came away with the fact that Henry the Hairy Hedgehog was a twat for hiding the locket in a body of water, because Sylvie died trying to fish it from the bottom. But he also came to the conclusion that this locket may be more important than just wanting to possess an heirloom.
Why, during the peak of a war, when Voldemort was being more reckless and seemingly more vulnerable to mistakes, would he want a locket if he hadn’t interacted with it in the past?
First, he visited Pandora. It was a risky move, but he had to do this. He needed help, and Pandora was always fascinated with the history of stuff. Anything from crystals to lockets to big abandoned buildings intrigued Pandora. The problem was, they hadn’t spoken, let alone seen each other since she had married.
Regulus remembered how he, Barty and Evan faded into the shadows, all dressed in formal wear (Barty in a striped brown wedding outfit and a black shirt and tie underneath, Evan wearing royal blue robes and Regulus in a casual, tight-fitting black), as they witnessed one of the best people they’d ever know express their love. Regulus hated how he couldn’t run up to her and hug her tight, say his Best Man speech he’d been preparing ever since fifth year, or tell Xeno if he fucks up he knew a million ways to torture him.
Ignoring all his impending nerves, he now stood outside the Lovegood residence a few days after his assignment from The Dark Lord. Regulus took a shaky breath. If Pandora answered the door, Regulus was sure to break into tears and stutter for the next half an hour.
He didn’t know what to expect: would he get Pandora Lovegood, his best friend and partner in mild crime, or Pandora Lovegood, willing to kill someone who threatens her family? He was family, once.
Each knock felt like a wave of impending doom. He even decided to dress in a Muggle suit, maybe that would lighten any blood-purist blows.
The small window opened and he saw a grey eye widen. There was commotion inside, he heard muffled voices before one spoke through the door. “State your business, Regulus.” That was Pandora.
“I’m here to talk.”
“Are you here alone?”
“Yes.” Pandora flung the door open, grabbed him and held him so an arm was around his neck and the other was pointing her wand at his adams apple.
“We have Regulus Arcturus Black at wand point!” Xeno shouted, door slightly ajar. “We will not hesitate to kill him unless anyone with him shows themselves.” They waited for a beat in silence.
“I have done many things, but I will never lie to you, Pandora.” Regulus declared. Fuck did it hurt knowing she’d kill him rather than talk to him. He fought to harden his heart before he sunk too deep into the reasons why his best friend considered him an enemy now.
“Tea?” Xeno asked and the look in his eyes pleaded for Regulus to say yes.
“Thank you, Xenophilius. No-”
“-sugar, no milk, a drop of mint.” Xeno smiled at him as he made his way to their kitchen.
Pandora asked him to take a seat on the sofa, and Regulus fought back a scowl because it was the most uncomfortable thing he'd ever sat on. But if it made Pandora happy, he would deal with it.
"What do you want?" Pandora's voice was cautious, defensive.
"I need your help…" Regulus grew quieter as his statement went on. He knew Pandora like he knew Pureblood culture, and she was not going to be happy about this. In fact-
"Fuck you, Regulus Black!" She shouted. "You don't talk to me for ages and now suddenly, since I'm useful, you want help with Dark Lord shit? You can-"
"Tea's here!" Xeno quickly exclaimed, hoping to calm his wife.
They fell into an awkward silence not even filled with the slurping of tea. Maybe this was a bad idea. Regulus went through all the consequences of coming here before he considered it a serious option, but he didn't predict Pandora would scream at him. He supposed he should start with an apology, no matter how much it pained him.
"I am sorry, Pandora, Xenophilius, for all of it. There aren't any excuses for my actions, but I'm hoping to reform them. That's why I need your help."
"What are you sorry for specifically?"
"Panda-"
"No no, he needs to say it all." She crossed her legs and waited patiently for him to answer.
Just as Regulus went to start, Xeno mentioned something about one of their invisible animals being in the berry bushes outside and that he had to tend to them.
Regulus cleared his throat. "I'm sorry for not contacting you and for leaving you in the dark. I'm sorry for joining You-Know-Who. I'm sorry I put you through so much shit."
Regulus waited for her reply and he waited five full minutes because Pandora had to finish her tea before she answered. "What do you need help with?"
He grinned. "Salazar Slytherin's locket, what do you know about it?"
"What do you want to know? I can tell you its origins, a timeline of who it belonged to, the amount of replicas out there."
"The timeline would be preferable: The Dark Lord has given me the task of locating it for him."
She faltered, "And you're not going to give it to him."
"No, I'm not."
"I hope you have a plan." Pandora let out a shaky breath and summoned paper and a pen (something Regulus will never understand because a quill looks so much better).
"Obviously, it started with Salazar Slytherin if we're talking about the locket as being a Slytherin heirloom." She said as she wrote the name then drew an arrow across, "then, it was found by Godfrey Clareville in the Slytherin common room, 1189. Obviously that didn't last long, and he was brutally murdered by a man named Phyllis Gaunt, which was then passed to his great-great-grandson Gormlaith Gaunt when he was born in 1576.."
As Pandora spoke Regulus couldn't believe how easy this task was. Why couldn't The Dark Lord complete it himself? But then she stopped when they were getting so close.
"Who's next?"
"Nobody knows." She sighed. "There's barely anything known about the Gaunt's at all, like they were spelled off the face of the earth. I've only read one book, even with all the libraries I’ve visited and research notes I've seen, and this is the only name they mention."
He wanted to involve as few people as possible, he hadn't fully involved Pandora but that was because she wanted no part in this war. He did have one friend with access to anything in the Ministry, but he knew it would be a more complicated job than getting Pandora on his side.
“So, how have you been?” Pandora asked.
“Life has never been happier.” He said in a flat tone and she smiled, so Regulus did, too. “Your home is lovely. If I had to picture you and Xeno living somewhere it would be here.” He looked around at the Quibbler articles stuck to the wall and the random flowers positioned between the light blue bricks.
Pandora laughed exactly how he remembered - carefree and full of joy. “Thank you, Reggie!” He voice took a sombre turn. “I heard your father is ill.”
“He was always the better of the two, but that wasn’t a hard achievement.” He shrugged. “How is Xeno coping?”
“As good as can be.” Her eyes were downcast. “When Lucius stopped all communication, it took a toll. He’s more invested in his work than ever.”
“When He is gone I can always work on Narcissa for you two. She’s pregnant now so that should soften the blonde bastard.”
“That would be wonderful Regulus.” As he bid the couple goodbye, Pandora pulled him in for a hug and when he held out his hand to shake Xenophilius’ he was enveloped by arms.
“Don’t hesitate to come back, Pandora’s missed you so much.” He whispered.