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Chapter Text

December 20th, 1979

The water is cold. Not the most astute observation and yet the first thing Regulus’ brain registers upon being dragged down into it. If questioned later he might say he never saw the inferi’s skeletal hands lurking under the dingy lake but then Regulus has always considered truth to be subjective - the eye of the beholder and all that. So maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter because as their claws tear into his skin and his lungs beg for release, he realises he will not be alive later to be questioned.

Another freezing undead grabs his ankle and pulls him deeper. The light above the water goes out - has it gone out or have his eyes closed? All he can think about is his brother. Sirius. Once, years ago back at the country estate in France when his family and cousins had gone on their annual trip, Regulus had jumped in the lake only to realise swimming does not come naturally. He remembers his parents, aunt and uncle had been elsewhere and his cousins had run towards the edge of the lake, remembers hearing their warbled screams and the way he had grasped for the surface, his fingers opening and closing desperately only for the water to slip through. He had thought he was going to die until the surface had broken above him, Sirius had jumped in like a fool even though he also couldn’t swim. Grabbed his hands where they were reaching for the sky and pulled him up. Neither could swim but their desperate kicking and clinging to each other had kept them up enough for Bellatrix and Andromeda to get hold of them and drag them out. All four had fussed over him as he coughed up what felt like endless water but he had just laughed, he was not dead, as long as Sirius was there, he could not die. 

Part of him, the childish part, clings to this idea. That any second, just like all those years ago, Sirius would jump in and drag him to safety. But Sirius is not with him and hasn’t been for a long time and his body aches. His mind had been screaming since the first hand latched onto him. But it’s quiet now. If he ignores the pain–it’s almost calming down here away from everything and everyone. Regulus could let his mind stop, could let his body stop thrashing, there is no Mother here to give him ultimatums where he cannot win “ You can leave. I will just have to go get Sirius back won’t I? I will have an heir- ” There are no friends to be disappointed in him “ I don’t understand why you’d do this!” “Dorca-” “This is your last chance, Regulus! Which side? ” No maniacs trying to kill everyone “ For the greater good. ” 

And best of all, there are no brothers to hate him “ You are not my brother. ” 

The cold is fading now, replaced by a numbing stillness. Slowly, he feels the water shake, hears the inferi screech, echoing in his ears, like his cousins had, as they dart away. Something grabs his arm- boney and sharp but warm. The warmth -so unlike the cold, unfeeling talons pulling him down- fires up his brain and demands he moves, instinctively he’s kicking and his arms thrash upwards, his body clawing for the surface. It feels like forever until he can breathe again, despite it likely being less than a minute, something is throwing him to the surface as he hacks up water.

“Kreacher knows Master Regulus said leave with the locket but Kreacher could not. Kreacher is a bad elf but Kreacher had to help Master Regulus, Kreacher be taking you home now, yes, yes!” Regulus doesn’t respond, throat burned raw from the suffocation and retching but allows his dutiful house elf to take hold of his arm as he lets his mind shut off, barely feeling the tug of Kreacher magic as the world twists around them.

Despite the sound of dripping water echoing in his ears, it’s the ancient dark oak walls of Grimmauld place that greet his eyes when he next opens them, he thinks Kreacher is moving around him, pressing salves to his sore body but he can’t be sure, everything feeling miles away as he closes his eyes again. 

It could’ve been hours of days but eventually Regulus regains consciousness. He’s in his bedroom, Kreacher nowhere in sight and the house so dead silent all he can hear is himself breathing. His throat still aches but he isn’t drowning so at least that’s something and looking down he can see there are two rather large scars embedded in his right arm but other than that he seems unscathed. Slowly rising out of the bed, he stretches his legs out, his room is completely as he left it and his wand has been placed on his bedside table. A quick tempest spell telling him it’s been 27 hours since he left the cave.

“Kreacher! Kreacher!” The locket! Where is it? Had Kreacher said something about it? He thinks so but doesn’t know what, where is he? “Kreacher!” The elf materialises in front of his eyes.

“Oh Master Regulus is awake! Kreacher was so worried-“ The house elf exclaims before being cut off.

“Kreacher, where is the locket?” His throat croaks with the effort but he spits the words out.

“Kreacher kept it safe for Master Regulus!” The smaller being disappears before reappearing less than five seconds later. “Here it be.” The locket of Salazar Slytherin, in all its tantalising glory, is held out to him and it’s only because of years of being around dark objects that he doesn’t recoil at the darkness rolling off the object.

“Thank you, Kreacher.” Regulus’ hand clamps around the locket chain. 

“Does Master Regulus need anything?” 

“No Kreacher, thank you. For all of this,” 

“It is Kreacher’ honor to serve the Noble house of Black.” And with that the elf is gone. Just Regulus with a part of Voldemort’s soul resting in his palm left in the quiet room. 

Regulus, before going to get the locket, hadn't really considered what to do after, and hadn't really expected to survive collecting it. The note he left in the fake locket is going to be damning if the psychopath ever reads it, he is not dead and there is a very real chance of Voldemort finding out and killing him and his family. Isn’t that fun?

The house is still silent, what if he already knows? What if he’s already killed them and Kreacher has been too preoccupied to know? Rushing to his feet and pocketing the locket, Regulus clambers to his feet and flings himself out the room and down the stairs, still no one. Oh Merlin what-

“Regulus! I did not raise you to be a ruffian! Compose yourself! If you cannot walk down the stairs properly then perhaps you should not walk down them at all. Come here.” His mother is still kicking then. As are her thinly veiled threats. Regulus “composes himself” as he walks towards the drawing room where her voice came from. “Have you slept? You look terrible.” Her voice lacks all the concern you might expect from a Mother but Regulus luckily hadn’t been expecting any at all.

“My room was too cold last night, so I could not sleep at all.”  Walburga Black hums in response, scanning over her son. His mother is a thin woman, with the sharp bone structure and pitch black hair typical of their family. Her face betrays nothing as she silently looks over him. 

“Bellatrix was just here, there is a meeting and her dark lord wants you there apparently,” She does not hide the disdain in her words, she’s made it clear she thinks it’s unbecoming for Black to bow to anyone, even though she agrees with Voldemort's goal. Why does he want Regulus there, does he know what he’s done? Is going to make an example of what happens when you try to defy him? “Will you go?” Her words snap Regulus out of his spiral and though his mothers voice is empty, he can tell there’s something she wants to say.

“Would you like me to?” Always playing the perfect son.

“I’d like you to find out what sacred family he belongs to,” Not what he had expected but his mothers always been cunning.

“May I ask why?” She smiles smugly at his curiosity, always enjoying trailing people along. She tends to over explain things to allow no mistakes but Walburga likes dragging things out when she can.

“He seems to be my age, and yet there were no male Purebloods in my year at Hogwarts.” Her expression takes on a sharper edge.

“Are you suggesting he’s not a pureblood?” 

“He may have gone to another school,” But both know that she wouldn’t have mentioned it if she believed that. She hates being wrong. 

“I will enquire if the opportunity presents itself, Mother.” By now his back is ramrod straight, expression devoid of any emotion. Just like she taught him.

“Good boy.” And just like that she’s back to ignoring him. He turns and leaves her sitting alone. Regulus’ father took ill a few months prior, nurses had been in and out but ultimately said there was nothing to be done. His father, who once stormed around as though he was better than everyone, now lays silently in his bed, in and out of consciousness. Orion had been a cold husband and a cold father, Regulus had barely spoken to him, always leaving Walburga to raise and discipline him and Sirius unless she insisted on his intervention. He’d spoken to Sirius more but only for heir duties and Orion had made it perfectly clear he didn’t want Regulus as heir, much to his mothers chagrin. 

The meeting was bound to be at Malfoy Manor as they typically were and Regulus not showing his face would only make things worse if Voldemort did know. Regulus didn’t go to all meetings, not having the dark mark he wasn’t aware of them all and didn’t want to go to any of them particularly. The only one in the family to have taken the mark was Bellatrix who had found herself obsessed with the psychopathic man since meeting him when she was in her seventh year, though no one knows how. The change in Bellatrix has been disconcerting for them all, she’d never been particularly loving but she had always cared for her family, suddenly she was demanding they throw themselves into war for a man who had yet to prove himself. Regulus supposed he’s proven himself now but the family doesn’t like what they see, Voldemort waves around pureblood families and names, marks their children and turns them into soldiers without offering any of his background or what the actual goal is. 

Knowing he cannot turn up to this meeting with the locket and accepting he’s going to be very late, Regulus goes back up the stairs and while walking to his room, finds himself stopping outside the room next to it. No one has been in Sirius’s room since he ran away to the Potters just over three years ago, his former existence forever immortalised in the dusty space. Hand having crept to the handle, Regulus pushes the door open, not wanting to alert his mother to what he is doing. The room, as expected, is exactly the same. Sirius had been determined to separate himself from the rest of the family as much as possible, the whole room drowning in Gryffindor red, uncomfortable images of women not wearing enough clothes were strewn about the place with an unstickable charm so they can never be removed. Sirius had admitted to not caring much for the posters, but they pissed off the boy's mother so he had done it. His mother never goes in here, neither does Kreacher and if Orion could move, he also wouldn’t. As wrong as it feels to put Voldemort’s locket in his brother's room, it’s the perfect spot. He consoles himself by thinking Sirius would be glad if it meant the Dark Lord didn’t have the locket and hastily dumps it in the wardrobe, covered by Sirius’ old junk and puts spells over it to cover the magic coming off it and a charm to dissuade anyone who finds themselves looking.

Exiting the room and stopping himself from taking one last look around, Regulus swiftly closes the door and apparates to his cousin's manor.

Regulus feels the familiar tug in his stomach that comes with apparation and turns around to face the manor. It’s a grand Victorian style building, all silver and black. A predictably lavish display of wealth from the sacred 28 family. Being well acquainted with Narcissa’s home, he walks up to the unnecessarily large doors and lets himself in. Narcissa had added him to the wards so he would not have to be let in by herself or her husband. 

Leading himself through the halls, he sees his cousin. Unlike the rest of the family, Narcissa has long wavy blonde hair rather than the dark slightly curly hair known for the house of Black, Regulus himself was born with a streak of blonde where his cowslick is, likely due to the incest throughout the families generations. Unlike Regulus though, Narcissa is heavily pregnant and looks thoroughly pissed off. “Narcissa! How are you?” Upon being greeted by her cousin, the woman schools her face and any sign of displeasure is gone.

“Reg! I was wondering if you’d come. Though you’re cutting it short, the meeting just ended,” She smiles at him and doesn't answer his question and he doesn't push her to. 

“Is he still here? Apparently he wants to see me,” They both know who ‘he’ is and his cousin’s smile wavers.

“That would be Bellatrix’s intervention. He didn’t demand you to be here, she did,” Conflicted with whooping with joy that Voldemort seems unaware or scowling that Bellatrix once again has dragged him to one of these meetings, Regulus settles on a polite nod and knowing he’ll go give Bella a piece of his mind any second now. 

“Of course it was, how-” Lucius Malfoy exits the meeting hall and enters the hallway, beckoning his wife over to him with an arrogant hand motion that makes Narcissa purse her lips and Regulus scowl at the man. “I’ll talk to you later, Cissa.” His cousin gives him a strained smile and slips away. 

Now to find Bellatrix. Storming towards the door Lucius came out from, Regulus reaches for the door, creaking it open and stops abruptly at the sound of the dark lord's voice, leaving the door cracked open.

“You have done well, Wormtail. Do they suspect you at all?” Wormtail? As in Sirius’s friend?

“N-no my Lord, they remain ignorant,” Regulus knows that voice, though it’s typically paired with his brothers. 

“Good-” Footsteps echo down the hallway and Regulus pulls away, whipping around. Around the corner two figures emerge. Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch jr have yet to notice him but he relaxes at his friend's presence. 

“Reg!” Barty exclaims after noticing him “What are-” 

“Shut up!” Regulus whisper-yells and Barty grins.

“What crawled up-” Silenced by Evan thwacking him, the blonde drags Barty over to Regulus.

“What’s going on?” Evan whispers and Regulus motions to the door, the two move to peer through the crack with him.

“We will arrange another meeting soon Wormtail,” Peter briskly nods his head and leaves through the back door, Voldemort following shortly after and the three boys pull back.

“Was that Black’s friend?” Barty sneers. He’s been refusing to say Sirius’ name or refer to him as Regulus’ brother since the older boy ran away, leaving Regulus.

“Yes. I’m going to kill that little-” Regulus scowls until Evan interrupts.

“Slow down. If you kill him now, the dark lord will know why and will suspect you of being a traitor.” He already is a traitor but he’s suddenly glad he has friends that won’t try to dissuade him, rather just stop him from getting himself killed. 

Evan’s family had not taken the same hesitant stance as the Blacks, they had thrown themselves in full force and submitted to Voldemort. Regulus knows the threats and harm Evan had faced from initially saying no. Barty had merely joined so Evan wasn’t alone, and to help Regulus when he’s present. His friend is also a nuisance and likes going to destroy things when the chance is there, it also helps it would piss off his god awful father. 

“We can’t talk about this here, come on.” Regulus hurries out the manor, trusting his friends to follow, which they do. Before either can say a word, he’s grabbing onto them and apparating all of them back to Grimmauld. Around this time his mother goes for tea with his aunt and his father is unconscious from the painkiller spells.

“I fucking hate apparating!”

“We know Barty,” Evan condescendingly taps his friend on the shoulder. “Right. What are we doing about this?” 

“One; what do you mean? Two; who’s we?” Regulus raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t be a twat, Reg. We all know you aren’t letting that happen, and we aren’t letting you throw yourself under the bus.”

“I could let it happen! Sirius is a cunt-”

“Yes, he is, and I wish you’d treat him as such, but you won’t cause for some reason you still care about that idiot.” Barty’s never been one to sugarcoat, unless it helps his goals, of course.

“So, what are we doing?” Both of them look expectantly at him, ready to drop everything and help him help Sirius despite the fact they hate him and he knows then that he can’t drag them into what he thinks he might do.

“I don’t want to decide right now,” Evan nods reluctantly but the look Barty gives him tells him he believes that as much as he believes in Santa.

“Ev can you make some tea?” The blonde groans. “Please! I don’t want to and Reg can’t make it for shit!” Barty does his best puppy dog eyes and Regulus gets ready for whatever it is the boy wants to say to him.

“Fine!” Evan sighs and stalks off out of the room and to the kitchen. Both have been here enough while his parents haven’t to know where things are. Silence encompasses the room and Regulus tries not to squirm.

“Spit it out then.” Barty turns to look at him fully and for once allows his face and words to be serious.

“I know you’ve already decided you’ll help him because something about him makes your self preservation deplete to nothing,” Still refusing to use Sirius’ name. “Just… don’t get yourself killed for him. He does nothing to deserve the loyalty you give him anymore. It’s useless to say because you’ve already made your mind up but-” He suddenly looks troubled “We’ll back you. You know that right? Since we met in first year I knew I’d always back you up. Don’t just stew in silence,” Incapable of being seriously sincere for so long he throws on “Or whatever, not like I care,” With a cheeky smile.

“I know, Barty.” The two sit in comfortable silence while waiting for their friend. Barty was Regulus’s first friend, other than Sirius, they’d met on the carriage to Hogwarts and despite how annoying Regulus first found him, had hit it off quickly. It might actually be because of Sirius that they are as close as they are, when Regulus had sat down next to him at the Slytherin table and Barty saw how Sirius rejected Regulus, refused to look at him other than a glance of disappointment, saw how his face had dropped, he’d decided he’d be the one to return the smile and keep it there for the next eight years. Of course it didn’t stay, but when it was gone, Barty was there to help bring it back. When Regulus, the next morning, had heard the Howler Barty Crouch Sr had sent his son for being put in Slytherin and saw how Barty had put on a tough face and tried to laugh it off, he had decided he would be the one that Barty didn’t need a tough face to be around.

Evan returns with their tea and Regulus is allowed to relax for the first time in almost two days. The three spend the rest of the day talking about nonsense but eventually night comes and his mother returns. Both offer to stay, mostly Evan since his mother doesn’t overly like Barty, but Regulus has too much to consider and doesn’t want pity (Barty scoffs at that, reminding him neither one of them is pitying him) and so he says they don’t need to stay even if part of him wants them to.

Now, laying in bed in the dark and staring at the ceiling. Regulus thinks about his options. He could do nothing but the thought makes him sick so he quickly throws it from his mind. So, he’s decided he’ll do something but what? The boy's first thought is to tell Sirius but what reason does his brother have to believe him, as far as Sirius is concerned he’s a loyal death eater who’d be trying to tear his friendships apart and as frustrated as it makes him, Regulus cannot fully blame him for that. Then, of course, there’s Dumbledore. Regulus has never trusted the old man who gave no thought to anyone who wasn’t a Gryffindor and, just like Voldemort, was hiring teenagers to fight for his cause. It hadn’t taken long for the death eaters to work out that Dumbledore had created some sort of resistance group, given the same people were appearing out of nowhere to try to stop them time and time again. Regulus knows that Sirius and his friends are in this group. Including Peter Pettigrew, or ‘Wormtail’ as his brother and his friends had called him. The four of them all had stupid names in school, Sirius being ‘Padfoot’ James Potter being ‘Prongs’ and Remus Lupin being ‘Moony’ which is just unfortunate for Lupin if you asked Regulus.

It doesn’t take much to work out Lupin’s a werewolf, he disappears once a month-the full moon, his nickname is Moony and he’s covered in those scars. His name is quite literally Remus Lupin, he may as well have been called Wolfy McWolf. 

As much as Regulus may not like Dumbledore, he may be the only option. He may even be able to provide Regulus with some protection if he’s found out, if the man is feeling generous enough given the information Regulus is about to give him. The only way to convince the old man that he’s being honest will be to provide other valuable information, the horcruxes. If Regulus is lucky, which he usually isn’t, then maybe Dumbledore knows to destroy a horcrux because Regulus certainly doesn’t.

Getting up, Regulus writes a quick and admittedly ominous letter requesting to meet with his old headmaster and sends it off from the post room they have in the house, making sure to only use his initials and using his own owl, not the family one.

This is Regulus’s last chance to save his brother, Sirius would never believe him no matter what evidence he provided but maybe with the backup of Dumbledore, who Sirius stupidly trusts, he can convince his brother that one of his best friends is a traitorous rat. Safe to say he isn’t feeling particularly positive, but all he can do now is wait for a response and hope the horcrux is enough to get Dumbledore to trust his word and intervene with Pettigrew. Just before he finally goes to sleep, he wonders what they’ll do with the spy. Killing him seems like the obvious answer but knowing that lot they’re far too self righteous and heroic for that.

Chapter Text

December 22nd, 1979

A cottage stands in front of Regulus, it’s quaint with flowers overflowing the front garden. It’s early morning so the curtains have been thrown open, only showing a kitchen and living room. The home is small but warm and cosy. Dumbledore has accepted his request for a meeting, he was due to go to Hogwarts later today but before that he has to go see someone else.

Knocking on the door, Regulus waits patiently. This is a rather impromptu visit, he hasn’t seen them in a long time and it’s early, not to mention that the occupants tend to work at their own pace. As his nerves begin to get the better of him and he debates turning around, the door finally eases open and Pandora Rosier’, or rather Pandora Lovegood now, face greets him, unfamiliar deep eye bags violating her gentle face. “Hello, Pandora,” Regulus’ voice is gentle, more gentle than it is with most. The woman has always been an open book, whether she feels joyful or rageful, you can tell. And so his old friend’s blank look is the first sign it’s been far too long since he contacted her. She lets him in, because there’s no universe where she doesn’t and they settle silently in the snug living room, the sofa covered in blankets, knitted by Pandora he surely knows.

Pandora makes them tea, she always used to say difficult conversations must be softened with a warm drink. Once she has sat down again and Regulus has pulled a blanket over himself, tea in hand, the two look at each other. Distantly he can hear Xenophilius, or rather xylophone as Regulus, Evan and Barty had so lovingly named him, upstairs, unaware of his presence. 

“It has been five months, Regulus,” Despite the blunt words, her tone is as melodic as ever, though tainted with exhaustion.

“I didn’t want to burden you-” He rushes out.

“I don’t want excuses,” She sighs and twists in her seat slightly. “You are not a burden, but I have been worried Regulus, I-” Pandora takes a moment and Regulus tries to ignore the stabbing feeling in his stomach “You may not have the mark but being so closely tied in with that group makes you a target, for both sides of the war! Both demand that me and Xeno choose and we keep trying to dissuade them but they are persistent. I don’t imagine they took kindly to your lack of definitive choice,” Pandora, once so lively and free, has been trapped by her own refusal to contribute to this god awful war. She has chosen peace and they would burn her for it.

“I am a target Pandora and so are you, I thought if they saw me pull away they might loosen up on you but apparently that was futile.” His tea is sweet, three sugars and a dash of milk, just as he’s always liked it.

“I do not need protection, Regulus! I am a grown woman and can make my own decisions! They have killed people, people I cared for, my blood family will not look at me because I won’t choose and if I did it certainly wouldn’t be their side and they know that. You are my best friend and I will not allow them to take that from me too.” Her words are a punch to the gut but no less true.

“You do not need protection I know but I could not put you in more danger! I know your lack of public stance does not mean you don’t have one privately and I know I have not been on that side but-” Finally, his friend allows him to see what she is feeling, a look of hesitance, tinged with curiosity overtakes her face “I have recently learned something. Things are far worse- far darker than we thought. I have information I think that Dumbledore might have interest in and I have arranged a meeting with him later today.” Pandora puts her tea down, Regulus’ has started to go cold. 

“What information? And Regulus Black if you say it puts me at risk to know, you don’t want to know what I’ll do to you!” The two chuckle slightly before the mood goes back to somber.

“Voldemort has used darker magic than anyone I’ve ever met. It took me a month to find out what it even was and I could only find it in the most disgusting of books in my family's library. It would make defeating him impossible and I mean actually impossible if I don’t find a way to destroy it! Hence meeting with Dumbledore, don’t really want to but perhaps he knows more. There’s also a spy- a spy in that resistance group for Voldemort and I know who it is,” He has never been able to lie to her and it takes the blonde a few moments to fully gather what he’s told her.

“You want to destroy Voldemort?” Regulus’ allegiance has been somewhat of a strain in their friendship, just because Pandora isn’t actively working against the dark lord doesn’t mean she agrees with him in the slightest. Though, unlike Dorcas, Pandora wasn’t willing to give up on him despite his choices. Not that he blames Dorcas, he knows what this war means to her.

“Yes. Yes, I do.” At first it had just been getting the horcrux, and then it had been helping Sirius but really what is Voldemort doing except causing issues? Pandora’s shoulders drop, tension he hadn’t even noticed, releasing from her body and a grin overtakes her face.

“You must not go silent on me like that again, Regulus. I will not allow it. We are friends and we will act like it despite this fucking war!” Both grin at each other.

“How are you, Pandora?” Her smile dims slightly as she sighs again.

“My visions have been back,” Regulus sits up straight. Pandora is a seer, for as long as he’s known her she’s had moments where she suddenly gets distant, not physically but as if for a few minutes there’s a disconnect from her and reality. After them she’s usually very upset, happy or confused. What she Sees has a tendency to come true.

“What of!” Even he cannot hide the alarm in his voice.

“I can’t explain it, there’s so many potential outcomes Reg. Everyone's making different choices and then changing their minds, too many people are at play for the future to be clear. The things I See change while I’m Seeing them, I never See the same thing twice, only the same situation but with a different ending. It’s all so confusing and I don’t-” “She exhales deeply.

“Maybe that’s a good thing, Pan. In the past, the things you See… well a lot of them haven’t been good, maybe this means that the future is not set yet, it can be changed, saved. How are you coping with it?” Regulus has never been optimistic, that was always Pandora’s job but he tries now for his friend.

“I hope you’re right. I’ve been getting through it, Xeno is a massive help!” Her smile brightens again.

“Ahh yes Xylophone. What’s he up to?” Pandora rolls her eyes.

“He’s writing a new entry for the Quibbler and I told you all not to call him that!” 

“Barty’s only streak of genius was calling him that.” This is completely untrue, the boy got all O’s in his OWLs and NEWTs. Pandora looks nostalgic.

“How are Barty and Evan?” Regulus scoffs.

“Still so so annoying, it’s even worse that you and… anyway you always calmed them down,” His friend tilts her head at him.

“Oh you love them!” A beat passes “You can ask about her, you know.” She leans back and Regulus glances over, debating.

“... How is Dorcas?” The words are quiet, as though it’s treacherous to be saying them. In a way it is, Dorcas made it clear she wouldn’t put up with his leniency to the death eaters.

“She’s doing what she can. Her and Marlene are still together, they’re adorable Regulus, even now with everything going on! If it happens to make you feel any better, Sirius has been getting on her nerves.” Embarrassingly, it does make him feel better. He’d had worries about that, he knows that Dorcas still cares for him as he does for her but she could not compromise her morals which is something he’s always found comfort in, her steadiness. It’s not a secret that none of Sirius’s friends are particularly fond of Regulus and he’d been, well, scared that with Sirius talking about him, she’d realise she’d never liked him in the first place.

“I’m glad her and Marlene are doing good,” He pointedly doesn’t acknowledge her last comment but she smirks at him anyway.

The conversation flows easily after, Xeno comes down and screeches at seeing him sat unexpectedly on his sofa and both friends laugh at his expense. Inevitably, time passes and Regulus has to see Dumbledore soon so he makes his goodbyes, promising to contact her soon and to tell her how it goes.

After apparating, Regulus goes up the path from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts like a man on a death march. Hagrid lets him in wearily after five minutes of assuring him that Dumbledore is expecting him and tries not to snap at the half giant with the effort. It’s odd, being inside the castle again. It’s only been a few months since he left but he hadn’t expected to see it again. All the candles are lit for the students and professors that are staying behind during christmas break but the halls are hauntingly empty, the only sound coming from his shoes bouncing off the stone walls. He makes his way to the headmaster's office, and uses the password Hagrid had given to him. “Fizzing whizzbee.” Why Dumbledore’s password is a sweet, he does not know and doesn’t wish to know.

He’s only been in the headmaster office once, the first term back after summer 1976 when Sirius had run away, he and his brother got into a massive row that had led to McGonagall bringing them here. If he closed his eyes, he’d be there again, arguing with his brother and getting a slap on the wrist from a well meaning teacher. But this time, there is no Sirius and McGonagall is likely at home, now there is just him, the war changing information he holds and Voldemort’s soul burning a hole in his back pocket. 

Pushing the door open, the first thing he notices is the honest to Merlin, phoenix that is in Dumbledore’s office. That had definitely not been there three years ago, he thinks he would’ve noticed! Approaching the bird, it tilts his head at him and seems to stare into his soul as though it knows more than Regulus will in his entire lifetime.

“You’ve met Fawkes I see,” Regulus restrains himself from flinching as the man appears out of nowhere and he looks- well to be honest he looks like shit. The war has clearly taken a toll on old Dumbledore and with that thought Regulus is glad he taught himself Occlumency at a young age. He reminds himself to close his mind, calm his body and stop his thoughts. The last thing he needs is Dumbledore riffling around in his head. “Please, take a seat Mr Black,” Reluctantly, Regulus lowers himself onto the red cushioned armchair in front of desk while his old headmaster sits at his desk. “You wanted to meet with me?”

“Yes, Sir, I did. I’ve discovered some information I find to be quite… troubling,” The older man sits up, the twinkle in his eye fainter than it had been but still present.

“And what might this information be?” Regulus takes a breath.

“There are two things, I’ll go in chronological order I suppose. A month ago Voldemort asked to use my house elf, I hesitantly agreed and told Kreacher to make sure he returned to me. It is only because of this that my house elf did not die as Voldemort intended. He had taken Kreacher to a cave, forced him to cut his hand to open it and they’d crossed a lake where Kreacher had to drink a basin of a potion that caused excruciating pain and hallucinations, making the drinker feel an unquenchable thirst. In the basin, Voldemort put Salazar Slytherin’s locket inside which he has turned into a horcrux and then refilled the basin and left Kreacher to die, forgetting that as a house elf, his magic works against anti apparation wards.” He had thought about it all day and found no other way but to be blunt about it all. 

Infuriatingly, the man's face betrays nothing. “Am I meant to just take your word for this Mr Black? You could be attempting to feed false information on the orders of Voldemort, how do I know you’re telling the truth?” Something tells Regulus that Dumbledore knows fully well that he’s telling the truth.

“Because I returned to the cave with Kreacher a few days ago and retrieved the locket,” And with that he gathers the locket from his pocket and slams it down on the desk. The energy rolling off the thing now it’s in the open was enough to make him feel like choking though Dumbledore showed no signs of being affected. 

“This is very troubling, Mr Black. If Voldemort has gone to such lengths… that has very worrying implications,” Ever the strategist, the headmaster didn’t stop there “You said there was another bit of information?” 

“Yes, Professor. But first, you can understand this is a very precarious situation I am putting myself in,”

“Of course, you are sharing this information at great detriment to yourself,” The bearded man must know where this is going.

“It would be nice to have some assurances.” Dumbledore hummed, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

“Straight to the point, I see. Mr Black, having provided this information, and the further information momentarily, I assure you I will do everything in my power to help you should Voldemort learn of your actions. And I may even be able to help more, have you taken the dark mark already, Regulus?” The use of his first name from the man feels like a slight but he digresses.

“No, I have not,” He pulls up his sleeves to prove it.

“Very well, as long as you keep that arm clean, I imagine I can help you avoid any legal repercussions down the line as well. Assuming we win this war.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Though he’s aware his voice carries no gratitude at all. “My second bit of information is regarding a traitor you have in your resistance group,” Dumbledore stills and motions for him to continue “After being told I was wanted at a meeting yesterday I went. I was late due to recovering from the effects of that potion but caught Voldemort talking to someone he called “Wormtail” or rather Peter Pettigrew. He asked Pettigrew if anyone suspected him and told him he’d done well,”

“I see. I knew there was a traitor in the order but I had not expected Mr Pettigrew. I suppose that’s why he was the best choice of spy. In order to verify this I would be extremely grateful if I could look over this memory in my pensieve if that is agreeable?” It’s not agreeable at all but it’s better than Dumbledore searching through his brain so he’ll have to deal with it.

“I suppose,” Not bothering to hide his displeasure, though the other man doesn’t seem to particularly care. Regulus leans forwards and puts down his mental guard as Dumbledore plucks the memory of him at the door, Regulus being able to see exactly what he will as retrieving the memory brings it to the forefront of his mind. He watches as Dumbledore strides to the side of his office, a pensieve being uncovered and the elder wasting no time in dunking his head. It’s a few minutes before he resurfaces, in which Regulus had spent being uncomfortably watched by the red bird.

“Thank you, Mr Black. This information could change the course of the war,” Having done what he said he would, Regulus rises but the next words spoken have him sitting down again “ I mentioned the Order earlier, you clearly already know there’s a resistance group, how would you feel about joining us at a meeting that’s in not too long?” 

“I don’t think-”

“It would be greatly reassuring to me to know you are not joining the death eaters, that would make it hard to assure your protection, Mr Black. I’m sure you understand,” Oh he understands alright. Is this decrepit old man threatening him? “I’m sure it would also be nice for you to be able to keep track of the process of the horcruxes.” The wording catches his attention.

“Horcruxes? Plural?” Dumbledore shifts closer.

“Voldemort has killed many people, it is reasonable to determine there is likely more than one. I knew Voldemort, before he was what he is now, of course. I suspect if that boy made one, he would not stop there,” So Dumbledore knows who Voldemort was? There’s more horcruxes to be found? Regulus discovered the first and there’s something within him that desires to find and destroy the rest.

“When is this meeting, Professor?” Dumbledore smiles.

“A half hour, you can floo from here if you’d like,” Despite the wording, he knows it’s not a suggestion but also not a demand. It’s a test. Regulus always passed tests.

“I’d be grateful to, Sir.” The next half hour is spent with Regulus asking how they destroy these horcruxes, the teacher says basilisk venom or fiendfyre. The latter is impossible to control and the former is impossible to acquire. Just great. 

As Dumbledore prepares the floo, Regulus remembers with a jolt that Sirius is in the order, and if he’s correct in his assumptions, so is Dorcas. And of course all of Sirius’s insufferable friends.

Dumbledore gives him the location, somewhere in London and assures Regulus he’ll be through momentarily before disappearing before Regulus can remind him no one knows to expect him. Other than Alastor Moody who Dumbledore had sent a patronus message to. Hopefully the man had sent the memo on, he considers as he feels the green Floo network pull him through.

Regulus is dropped into a living room in what seems to be a small muggle-esque flat. He’d think he was in some random muggle's home if he didn’t immediately have several wands pointed directly at his face. 

Naturally, the first person his eyes fall on is his brother. Sirius, while still looking wild and untamed in a way their mother would hate, looks older. Which makes sense given it’s been over a year since they saw each other, when Sirius finished school. For a moment, everything stills, everyone disappears and it’s just two brothers looking at each other, one pointing a weapon at the other. Sirius’s face of shock and hurt quickly turns to anger, as most of Sirius’ emotions tend to do. “What. The. Fuck. Are you doing here?” The words are spat with such rage that even some of the people around him lower their wands to turn to the boy. Now the silence has been broken, Regulus can analyse the situation, around him he sees James Potter, looking horrified. Remus Lupin seemingly unendingly tense. Lily Evans, or rather Potter, with her mouth wide open. Mary Macdonald openly glaring. Frank and Alice Longbottom looking confused. Emmeline Vance and Moody, who seem to have been expecting him, just look tired. Finally, the Prewett twins are grinning slightly- okay then? Dumbledore had informed him some members wouldn’t be present, including Peter Pettigrew luckily, “I said what are you doing here!?” Regulus raises a brow, it’s far easier right now to play the ‘annoying little brother breaks into older brothers playdate’ role right now than confront the actual issue.

“You don’t own the place,” He takes great joy in the way Sirius’s face tinges with red.

“I quite literally do! This is my flat! Get out you little-” Moody steps forwards.

“Be quiet, Black!” The man commands and shockingly, his brother obliges “Dumbledore told me to be expecting mini Black here,” Regulus scowls at the name but the wands slowly start dropping from where they were pointed at him. “He’s got some information for us apparently,” The words are dripping with condescension and everyone in the room goes back to staring at him. “C’mon we’ve got to wait for Dumbledore, prepare yourselves if you want to be useful!” The shaming quickly gets people to work, though it doesn’t stop the glances.

After about five minutes Regulus is already fed up, he should just leave but he refuses to give Dumbledore the pleasure. “Oi! Black!” Turning towards the voice, he sees the twins beckoning him, and being the only two not glaring at him, Regulus goes over. “I’m Fabian,” the one of the right claims “and this is Gideon,”

“I’m Regulus,” He greets awkwardly.

“Yeah, we figured,” Gideon grins. “How about you sit with us today? If you’re staying?”

“Yes, I am. I will, if you don’t mind,”

“Not at all!” Regulus can feel the stares. “Ignore those gloomy lot, they’re in a bad mood,”

“Do they usually glare you down when they’re in a bad mood?” He snarks but the two just laugh.

“‘Suppose not,” Fabian agrees and finally, Dumbledore steps through the floo.

“Will you explain what the fuck is going on?” Despite Sirius’s anger being because of him, it’s nice to see someone not cosying up to Dumbledore. 

“Please sit down, Mr Black. All will be explained in due time. Everyone please be seated,” Slowly but surely everyone sits down, a wide berth being created between him and everyone else. He almost feels bad for the twins, now being separated from everyone else because of where Regulus is sitting on the floor in front of them. “You all may have noticed that quite a few members are not present and one unexpected guest is,” 

“Understatement of the century,” Gideon mutters, still grinning.

“Quite, Mr Prewett. You see, young Mr Black here has presented me with some information and I thought it best kept to a smaller circle,” Contain the information and if it gets out you know who must’ve done it. “Now-” Before the man can continue any further, the front door down the hallway slams open.

“Sorry we’re late! It was god awful trying to get here!” Marlene Mckinnon, in all her blonde glory comes rushing into the room, followed by a much more restrained Dorcas Meadowes.

“Yeah sorry, this one was taking forever”! Dorcas tilts her head at her girlfriend and both step fully into the room. Regulus can tell the exact moment they clock his presence, Mckinnon’s mouth dropping open and head turning wildly between Dorcas and Regulus then back to Dorcas. Dorcas’s face is unreadable as it almost always is in such a public setting. 

“Baby Black! Uhm what are you…” Giving up on trying to make things less awkward, Marlene gives Dorcas’s hand a quick squeeze and goes to sit next to Macdonald. Dorcas, stood still.

“Miss Meadows why don’t you-” The headteacher is cut off, Dorcas not seeming to have heard him.

“Regulus?” Her voice is uneasily quiet in a way Regulus knows she must hate. “Why are you here?” Her voice recovers.

“I was just about to explain that Miss Meadows, why don’t you sit?” The old man suggests, not entirely unkindly.

Dorcas sits, back straight as a rod, in the back centre of the room.

“As I was saying, this information is delicate and must be treated as such,” The headmaster recovers smoothly “You’re all aware we have had a traitor in the order,” Suddenly everyone is paying attention, sitting up in their seats “Mr Black here has confirmed who,” Glances with varying levels of distrust are sent his way “We believe it to be, and I am sorry, Mr Potter, Lupin and Black. But it’s been proven to be Peter Pettigrew.” The stillness that follows is unnerving, no one moves, no one even seems to breathe. Until suddenly, Potter and Sirius are flying out of their seats, shouting in outrage. Refusing to believe what they’ve been told.

“This is bullshit! You’re just going to take his word for it!?” Sirius gestures towards him and Regulus tries not to roll his eyes.

“How do you know it’s Pete!?” Potter exclaims.

At the same time, Lupin calmly, though his voice is shaking, with rage or anguish Regulus isn’t sure, asks “Can you prove it?” This time the words are said to him rather than about him and Potter and his brother go quiet.

“Moony?” Sirius questions, voice for once quiet.

Regulus nods his head once while Dumbledore says “He already has. I have the memory here, and I can assure you it is clearly untampered.” Regulus startles, not knowing that the older man had kept the memory but if this is what it takes to prove it then he’ll suck it up.

“Can we see it, please?” Lupin’s voice is heartbroken, as though he already believes what he’s been told and is merely doing it for Sirius and Potter.

“Follow me boys,” The man instructs and they all slowly floo back to Hogwarts. Regulus is squirming he knows but he’s the bearer of bad news and there seems to be some very displeased people present.

“Will you all stop staring and let me have a word!?” He certainly hadn’t expected Dorcas to come to his defence, then again she isn’t. She wants a word. Oh Merlin.

The girl scoots over to him, now sat in front of him and glares at the Prewetts who raise their hands in defence and excuse themselves to the other side of the room, sending an apologetic look to Regulus. “Regulus… what the fuck is going on?” She’s clearly recovered from her initial shock and softness. 

“He just told you, I provided information and now I’m here,” Dorcas rolls her eyes.

“Do not get snarky with me Regulus!” The rest of the room looks over and Dorcas must see his eyes flicker over her shoulder, “Fuck off you lot!” The wall seems interesting to them all of a sudden “Now, you’re going to spit it out so I can go comfort my girlfriend since apparently her childhood best friend is a traitorous bastard. I know how she feels.” He chooses to ignore the last jab.

“You believe me?”

“Of course I believe you. You’re smart, if you were lying about this you’d come up with someone more believable than him. And I don’t see you giving any memories to Dumbledore unless you truly believed it.” Knowing it’s not forgiveness or trust he refuses to let himself feel warm at that.

“I might’ve previously been a bit… arrogant-”

“You don’t say!” The classic Dorcas sarcasm. He hasn’t missed it. (He has)

“But! My arrogance has been shoved down my throat. You could say,” He was quite literally suffocated for it.

“Good. I don’t forgive you,” Regulus had been expecting that but it still makes him feel sick “Yet.” With that, his old friend rises up and stalks across the room to her girlfriend. Maybe there is hope for forgiveness yet. He spends the next five minutes staring up at the ceiling and ignoring everyone until someone plants themselves down in front of him.

“Dorcas-” Only it isn’t Dorcas “Evans?”

“Neither of those are my name actually. It’s Potter now, although it’s somewhat nice hearing the old one,” The redhead's presence is certainly disconcerting, what does she want?

“Right, sorry.” The words are stilted, has he ever spoken to her before?

“A non issue really. Dorcas believes you, so I believe you unless those four come back having realised you’ve tried to fool them in which case I’m going to blast you into next week, capiche?” Regulus honestly cannot tell if she’s joking.

“What is capiche?” Is all he bothers with.

“Means do you understand,” She’s somewhat smiling he thinks but he doesn’t know her so maybe she’s glowering.

“Then… yes? I do understand,”

“Great! All I really care about is, are you going to be an issue? Given the fact you’re speaking to me and not spitting in my face and calling me ‘Mudblood’ like those friends of yours that were the type of people to, I’m going to say you won’t be,” And yeah. That’s fair.

He already knows she’s referring to Avery and Mulciber “I wouldn’t call them my friends and I certainly wouldn’t call them people, Evans,” He doesn’t mean to slip up on the name but she doesn’t correct him, just grins.

Before he can respond, the floo flares and the four return one by one. Potter’s eyes are red rimmed, Lupin’s face is cold and Sirius is practically shaking with unbridled rage.

“You live another day, Baby Black,” The redhead mutters as her grin slips away.

“Don’t call me that,” He doesn’t mean to be sharp, particularly not now, but the woman only gives him an inquisitive look, nods her head firmly and goes over to her husband.

The grief is thick in the air as Remus numbly nods his head at the room and the three friends slowly lower back into their seats. It doesn’t take more than a second for McKinnon, Macdonald, both Longbottoms and Evans to gather around them, all talking in hushed tones that Regulus can’t make out. Dorcas merely looks at Regulus, gaze filled with something akin to hope, though Regulus doesn’t understand why - he’s done nothing to warrant it.

“We don’t have time for mourning!” Moody growls “We need a plan. Now.” His words snap the Order into the present like a smack to the face. Harsh but true, the war will not pause for betrayal.

“Unfortunately, Alastor is quite right,” Dumbledore begins, loitering by the floo still “Now we’re all here and understand the situation, we must discuss what comes next,” Dread hangs over the room like a dense fog, inescapable as it is suffocating. The older man gestures for everyone to sit back in the circular-esque formation from before and limply, they do.

 “As we are, we must assume our every move is compromised. Every mission we have previously discussed must be scrapped,” Murmurs spread through the room, tension thick as ever “This is excluding any private missions,” Curiously, his eyes shift to Remus Lupin for a moment and Sirius glowers. 

“He’s right. We need to relocate safe houses, change communication lines and cut out any possible leaks. We need to move fast!” Moody nods in agreement.

“We must consider our next moves carefully. The younger Mr Black has-” 

“Hang on a bloody minute,” Mary Macdonald rises out of her seat “This does not mean we can trust Black. What if Voldemort just got sick of Peter and has decided to swap him out?!” Regulus tries not to grit his teeth at the implication.

“Mary, why on earth would he do that? We don’t trust Black but we did trust Peter,” Shockingly, it’s Emmeline Vance that comes to his defence, although the woman just looks exhausted more than anything. 

“We did trust Peter, yes,” Marlene McKinnon's eyes are set in grim determination “Which surely means we should be more careful this time around,” Regulus does not shy away from the fire in her eyes and meets her gaze head on.

“Marls-” Lily interrupts.

“No, it’s understandable,” Though his voice is pure ice “How would you have me prove it?” Mary and Marlene meet eyes, speaking with no words at all. Regulus remembers the two friends being attached at the hip back in Hogwarts.

“Veritaserum.” Mary states simply and it takes all of Regulus to not leave right there and then. Veritaserum is a truth potion that’s only meant to be used in extreme circumstances by the Ministry of Magic. It seems the Order have been taking certain liberties themselves.

“That’s a bit-” Fabian Prewett starts.

“Fine,” The shock on Macdonald's face is gone in a moment, the woman is clearly good at controlling herself. “Do you have some on hand?” His tone is slightly mocking but Moody reaches into his bag, confirming they do indeed have it.

“Who wants to do the honours?” Moody questions the room, far too jovially, as he passes the potion of veritaserum to Regulus. Sirius stands up immediately because of course he does.

“I will-”

“No you will not, Sirius Black,” Lily pushes him back down by the shoulder and notions for Regulus to come forwards to where she puts herself in the centre of the room “You’re too involved,” Sirius scoffs and opens his mouth to object, likely to say he feels nothing towards his brother, but quickly pipes down when no one even moves to defend him. Regulus throws back the veritaserum and refuses to grimace- it takes like chlorine- and meets Evans in the middle.

There’s silence as the redhead counts down the minute until the potion takes effect and dead on after 60 seconds, Regulus feels a certain loose haziness.

“Firstly, and most obviously. Are you loyal to Voldemort?”

“No,” Multiple people in the room release a tension from their bodies that he hadn’t even noticed, at that.

“Thank god, it would've been a bit awkward right?” The woman means it as a way to lighten the mood but Regulus, under the effects of the potion, finds himself nodding vigorously. “How did you know about Peter?” Mary and Marlene both lean forward at that.

“Bellatrix, my cousin, insists on me going to some of Voldemort’s meetings,” The air turns stale “I arrived late but caught the tail end of a conversation between Pettigrew and him,”

“Right. Why come to us? You may not be loyal to Voldemort but that doesn’t mean you would want to help us,” 

“He was Sirius’ friend. I considered just telling Sirius but I didn’t think he’d believe me so this was the only option.” The show of care towards his brother, however lackluster, makes him feel ill.

Luckily, Evans doesn’t linger. “Are you a spy?”

“No.”

“Fantastic!” Lily grins “Have you been sent on any missions by Voldemort?”

“One.”

“What was it?”

“To kill a 7 year old muggleborn girl.” The girl in front of him goes still and he wants this entire thing to be fucking over with. The memory isn’t a pleasant one.

It’s Mary that breaks the hush of the room. “Why the fuck would you do that?! What consequences can be that bad!?”

“I didn’t do it. And the consequence was the Cruciatus curse for however long it took me to black out.” Evans mouth swings open but in all fairness she recovers well.

“Okay then. Have you ever actively worked against Voldemort?”

“Just now- telling you about Pettigrew and telling Dumbledore about the h-” Suddenly his voice is failing him and Dumbledore is shaking his head at Lily. When Regulus’ mouth falls shut, his voice is returned. “Yes, I have,”

Lily is giving Dumbledore a look he can’t decipher when Sirius jumps in “Do you care about your family?” Evans snaps out of it and glares at him.

“Some of them. Depends who you define as my family really,” Regulus’ hands are getting clammy cause Sirius is opening his gob again and people are glaring but making no move to stop him.

“Walburga?” 

“Somewhat. I don’t agree with her but she’s my mother-”

“Orion?” Sirius volume rises.

“No.” It's hard to care for a man who he doesn’t know.

“Narcissa? Bellatrix?”

“Yes,” He can only pray Sirius doesn’t ask about himself, but when has he ever refrained from that?

“Me?” A moment passes without a sound other than Sirius’ hostile breathing, still worked up from his friend's betrayal and brother's general presence. It’s just as Regulus begins to speak that Sirius’ interrogation is interrupted.

“That is not what veritaserum is for Sirius and you know it!” Dorcas exclaims. Her dark eyes piercing into Sirius who practically snarls.

“That is correct. Now, if we can get back to the point please?” Evans words are sharp, an aggressiveness he wasn’t expecting from her. No one interjects and Regulus breathes for the first time in a minute “You said your cousin insists on your presence, meaning you don’t usually attend and you are not forced to attend by other members, can you elaborate on that entire situation please? What part do you play?” Regulus takes a breath.

“Bellatrix has been obsessed with Voldemort since she met him when she was in her seventh year- everyone is ignoring how odd it is, which is annoying. Anyway, Bella is the only one to have committed herself to the death eaters from my family, the rest think it is beneath them to bow to anyone but most still support it privately,”

“Do you believe in blood purity?” The words are rushed, as though she can’t believe she didn’t ask sooner.

“I think- It’s a lot more complicated than I thought. My parents used to tell us that muggles and muggleborns had fangs, horns and tails- I saw for myself that wasn’t true and thought ‘Okay, maybe they were dramatising to try and keep us safe?’ My mother had told us that they could barely do magic but you are the brightest witch of our age and Dorcas is far better at arithmancy than I ever will be. Mother told me our blood made us pure but I’ve seen the things they’ve done. Father told me they are evil. That seven year old girl didn’t seem evil. So, well, I suppose- no then. I don’t believe in blood supremacy.” It’s a comfort to know he’s telling the truth when he says it. Lily is studying his face carefully but simply nods. Out of his periphery, he sees Mary’s shoulders drop in relief. Sirius is staring at him as though he is an alien.

“Do you know who the death eaters are?” Right back into it then.

“Some of them,” He’d really prefer if he didn’t have to divulge names but he supposes he may not have a choice.

It’s Dorcas’ voice that cuts in, strong but wavering with guilt “Are Barty and Evan?” Fuck.

He clamps his mouth in an attempt to stop himself but the dose of potion was big and the batch clearly strong. “Evan said no originally but let’s just say it wasn’t taken well. The death eaters threatened to kill both his twin sister, Pandora, and younger brother, Felix who is only ten. They went in depth on how they would take and kill the two and would send a death eater to break into Felix’ room nightly, leaving messages with him that would leave him sobbing for hours and sometimes cutting him to write in his blood,” Dorcas, among the others, look horrified, she’d always been close with the younger boy “When people stayed in the room with Felix, they’d wake up to find him gone, crying in another room alone, and when people stayed awake all night they were always knocked out. Barty does not have the mark, although he attends the meetings so Evan, and me when I’m there, are not alone,” As long as they don’t ask about Barty’ specific involvement, they don’t need to know about his escapades.

“Why did you not receive this treatment after not taking the mark? Were you threatened at all to attend?” Good questions again from Evans.

“Most of the death eaters are made up of sacred 28 family members. The Rosiers’ are not high on the pecking order, they’re recent having come from France a few generations ago, most death eaters are ranked higher because of this. The Black’s are at the top, they’re the oldest and supposedly the purest,” Sirius doesn’t hide his scoff “It would be treacherous for them to act like that. Mother would never have allowed the slight against the family, although Mother did say that if I didn’t show face at some she would contact Aurors and claim Sirius was kidnapped by the Potters to have him dragged back where he would be forced to take the mark. It was easier to just go to one every now and again.” The information is embarrassing to divulge but he doesn’t see why it’s receiving the wide eyes it is from Sirius.

“The serum will be running out soon,” Evans coughs out “Anything we think needs to be asked?” Sirius stands and Potter pulls him back down. 

“Are there any others like you in the death eaters or associated with them? That doesn't believe in the cause that is.” Emmeline Vance questions.

“Evan, Barty and Narcissa,” He answers confidently. All the people in this room are struck with hero complexes and if that means his friends and cousin may get some leeway then he isn’t going to ignore that.

“Narcissa!?” Alice Longbottom sits up for reasons unknown to him.

“Umm yes? It’s well known that the Malfoys are tied into the death eaters but she doesn’t have the mark. She’s never shown any real signs of interest in it all to me other than protection for her son.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Emmeline assures though he doubts the sincerity of it as the girl receives a skeptical glance from Moody.

“Oh! Are you here of your own freewill? Is someone forcing you to bring this information to us?” Macdonald quickly throws in.

“Other than Dumbledore springing this meeting on me at the last minute, yes I am here willingly,” He makes sure not to say anything about if anyone knows he’s here, not wanting to throw Pandora’s name in again.

“Who is your loyalty to?” Frank Longbottom’s back is straight as a ruler.

“Barty, Evan, Narcissa and Pandora,” The man hums.

“Will you be honest about any information regarding the death eaters and Voldemort after this?” Moody grunts.

“I will not lie but I refuse to compromise Barty, Evan, Pandora and Narcissa.” He’s very good at avoiding questions, usually of course.

“Even if it means people die!?” Sirius bursts in outrage and Remus looks at the man curtly.

“I will not compromise them.” They have done too much for him for Regulus to even consider that, no matter the cost.

“When did you first, truly, begin to doubt everything Voldemort was doing?” Fabian Prewett wonders, trying to move along from Sirius.

“After the young muggleborn girl,”

“Alright, last question,” Evans starts, frowning “What would happen if Voldemort learnt you were helping us?” The question seems to be curiosity more than anything and Regulus does not allow himself to react.

“I’d be captured, tortured for days before being killed- publicly of course. He likes to make an example of his losses,” He explains simply and some people shuffle in discomfort of the brashness - namely Sirius who’s likely remembering his own experiences with their mother using crucio on him.

That was far more information than he ever wanted to reveal and leaves him stripped bare for all the room to see. Sirius stands hastily, hands balled up into fists as he shoves past everyone to storm into what Regulus assumes to be the kitchen. The older boy not wanting to look at Regulus is not new but stings nonetheless. 

“The potion should have run out now,” Evans informs awkwardly and Moody glares at Regulus who glares right back. Moody clearly doesn’t trust him despite that interrogation but Regulus doesn’t really care, he’s not here for Moody and doubts he will ever care what the man thinks of him.

“I don’t care what potion you give him, I’m not putting my life in the hands of a Death Eater runt. Little Black here will be kept under surveillance!” Dumbledore sighs slightly.

“Alastor-”

“Do as you please,” Regulus rolls his eyes, Alastor Moody can watch him all he wants, if Regulus doesn’t want him to know something from now, he simply won’t know. “May I leave now?” He questions the eldest man though it isn’t really a question as he’s already getting up.

“I’d prefer you to stay. People are still wary of you Regulus, it is important that you are up front with us-” Regulus scoffs, still standing.

“Up front? If you’re so up front then why won’t you tell them what I told you?” He’s doing this to be aggravating at this point, he understands the need to withhold certain information but the glint in certain members' eyes tells him the Order will not settle with being kept in the dark.

“What was he going to say? Before? When you cut Regulus off.” Dorcas questions. Regulus isn’t entirely sure how his old friend manages to come to these meetings, she always hated the old man for how he ignored Slytherins despite many people from there very clearly needing support.

“You all must understand how imperative that some information does not spread. Especially in light of our recent situation.” The glance to Potter and Lupin is a low blow and Lupin seems to agree as he retreats angrily to the room Sirius had disappeared into.

“I will be taking my leave now. I assume you can find a way to contact me should you want to actually discuss what I told you.” He swiftly strides towards the floo, grabbing the floo powder and throwing it down, announcing his house's name.

It’s as the green flames are engulfing him that McKinnon of all people shouts “The next meeting is in a week from Monday, here!” Before the site of Grimmauld’s somber walls greets him. It isn’t actually that shocking that McKinnon had informed him, he’d seen her curiosity when he’d vaguely mentioned the horcruxes and suddenly understands how his Slytherin friend had ended up with the Gryffindor.

It’s late by now, at least he assumes as it’s hard to tell when his house is so naturally dark. Regulus follows the sound of distant clinking into what is meant to be a living room despite the fact no one ever uses it. So, you can imagine his surprise when he walks in to find his mother, glass of firewhiskey in hand, slumped in a distinctly unladylike manner on the sofa. The woman drags her head up as though it weighs ten tonnes and squints. “Sirius?” She slurs and Regulus sighs.

“No, Maman. It’s Regulus,” He moves closer and settles himself on the end of the sofa, watching as she slopes towards him.

“Where is he?” His mother breathes out as she fully falls to lay down and he stops looking at her.

“You made him leave,” He responds but Regulus can already hear her breathing even out and he leans his elbows onto his knees, neck sagging. After what feels like an eternity he rises up and summons a blanket, gently laying it over his passed out mother. “Goodnight, Maman.” He whispers before heading up to his own room.

Sometimes Regulus wonders if his sharp and cold mother had once been soft and gentle, wonders if this family destroyed her the way it did him. He sees hints of her in old pictures, Walburga with a wide smile and a defaced leather jacket that looks a lot like Sirius’s. In photographs of her with an arm around each of her brothers in her new Hogwarts uniform ready to start school. Uncle Alphard, before his disownment for giving Sirius money, used to look at Walburga with a certain brokenness in his eyes that eerily resembled how Sirius looked at him the day he was sorted into Slytherin. There’s something about how Uncle Alphard and Mother look at Uncle Cygnus that makes him think of how he and his cousins look at Bellatrix. Maybe that’s all their family is, a bunch of children promising not to do to their children what was done to them and failing to keep it.

Chapter Text

December 25th, 1979

Yule was one of the few times a year that found the House of Black back at their French ancestral home anymore. Rather than celebrating Christmas, wizards practice Yule and have long before the witch trials and supposedly long before Christmas even came to be. Regulus hadn’t even heard of Christmas before his first year at Hogwarts where instead of having a large fire and feast, giving offerings and decorating with holly, the Great Hall was housing a towering tree with glistening decor and the muggle borns, and some half bloods, spoke of presents and a roast. 

Yule has been a wizarding tradition for centuries, originally created by muggles to welcome the end of winter and the return of the light but for wizards it’s one of the most vibrant nights for magic, coinciding with the winter solstice. For so long thousands of wizards across the world would give offerings and make wishes on this day, the amount of magic being used making the world’s heartbeat fall in line with the pulse of magic, syncing the wizarding world together in a way it so rarely is now. Allowing their souls to mix with muggles, though most purebloods would deny it, for one night a year since the Statute of Secrecy’s creation.

A tradition that still goes on is dinner. Which is why Regulus finds himself in Black Manor in Marseille, seated between his tense mother, who’s at the head of the table, and Narcissa while sat across from Uncle Cygnus’s sneering face. His father is in bed, deemed too sick by Mother to be present. Lucius sits across from Narcissa, who stares at her plate, and his fingers are white around his utensils in the silence. Aunt Druella sits beside Narcissa, oblivious to the tension. There is an unused place next to Lucius where Bellatrix is meant to be and another one for her husband. The three empty seats at the end go unmentioned - the ghosts feel more alive than anyone in this room. 

Cygnus coughs, sitting up straight and looking at his elder sister who has been suspiciously quiet. “Yule seems to get quieter every year, doesn’t it?” The man’s lip turns up in a particularly unpleasant way that forces Regulus to restrain an eye roll. Beside him, Mother somehow gets more rigid and Regulus tenses with her, allowing his elbow to lightly knock into his cousin’s. 

“It does.” Is the only response Cygnus gets which he doesn’t seem too pleased with. It’s no secret that Cygnus had wanted Alphard disowned years ago when his preferred gender for company became apparent. Cygnus had finally gotten his wish a few months ago when Mother discovered he had given Sirius money after his disownment. 

“A shame about-” Regulus’ uncle starts until Mother allows her cutlery to drop with a resounding crash.

“Where is your daughter exactly?” Walburga Black bites back. One may assume she’s talking about Bellatrix but they all know that’s not the daughter she means, her brother certainly does and he scowls, dropping his knife and fork as well.

Before Cygnus can open his mouth, Narcissa speaks up, laying her utensils down carefully. “Bellatrix is at a meeting, Auntie.” Regulus doesn’t miss how Lucius rolls his shoulders.

“Hm.” Mother replies disapprovingly and everyone gives up on eating. 

“Something you’d like to say, Walburga?” Druella pipes up, looking around her daughter.

Luckily, or unluckily, before they can hear whatever unsavoury answer Mother was about to give, the sound of the floo from the drawing room echoes. The click of a heel creeps down the hallway until finally Bellatrix stands in the doorway. Immediately drops his hands into his lap, feeling like prey hiding from the predator.

“Took your time, girl!” Cygnus snaps and is ignored as she saunters in, eyes zeroed on Regulus and for a moment he feels horror slither up his back, what if the Dark Lord knows?

“The Dark Lord had a task for me,” The woman states proudly and Walburga rolls her eyes. “Reggie,” Bellatrix drawls, sitting down next to Lucius.

“Bella?” Regulus’ heart can probably be heard from back in London. 

“Anything you’d like to tell me about? Awfully tense there Reggie-kins.” She knows. She must know, her eyes narrow on Regulus even further and he struggles to keep his breathing steady. The most surprising part is that she isn’t cursing him, Bellatrix is far more like Sirius than she’d ever admit, cast first and ask later, if ever. 

Regulus has been silent for too long and his cousin’ gaze cuts deeper into him. “You didn’t come to the last meeting,” She accuses and Regulus feels his whole body relax.

“I was busy,” He shrugs and his mother’s lip quirks up uncharacteristically.

Bellatrix scowls, looking to Lucius who stares forwards steadfastly and her glower deepens. “Being in the Dark Lord’s presence is an honour!” She snaps and Regulus leans back in his chair fighting an eye roll. “He is going to make things better for us all and you disrespect him-” Regulus chooses to tune out the rest of her spiel that he’s heard a thousand times by now. Everytime sounds just as rehearsed as the last as though someone else's words are coming out of his cousin's mouth. Walburga starts eating again, clearly holding back from making her own ‘Blacks don’t bow’ speech that Regulus has also heard a thousand times.

He knows that the more meetings he misses, the more suspicious he seems. But everytime he sees the blind devotion in their eyes - particularly Bellatrix’s - the more it feels like he’s drowning all over again.

When Bellatrix finishes, Regulus doesn’t respond and the silence encompasses the room again. Finishing his food first leaves with nothing to do but stare at the wall, he certainly won’t be breaking the cold quiet. The room, as well as the rest of the manor, is all light tones and high ceilings - a stylistic choice of a generation long gone. A mahogany grandfather clock sits behind his mother and a painting from some time in the 1300s depicts three crows sat on the same branch, two seemingly screech at each other while the last looks up to the sky where a swallow soars, it’s called ‘Where a Crow Cannot Go’ and has been in the family's possession for four centuries. 

The five cousins used to disagree on its meaning - Bellatrix used to say the swallow was a risk, something that would come and invade the crows, Andromeda would claim the third crow would inevitably follow the swallow and Narcissa used to pity the swallow, she’d say the bird was alone and that the crows would protect each other as family. Sirius only once shared his opinion with Regulus, exclaiming the swallow is much cooler than the crows, that it’s faster and wouldn’t be caught, the crows would tear each other apart first. As a child, Regulus believed the third crow would adventure with the swallow before coming back to tell the other crows all that he saw. 

Now, he pities it how Narcissa pitied the swallow - the third crow will not go anywhere, it will sit and watch and it will die on that branch listening to the screams of the others.

Regulus’ attention is pulled back when Lucius clears his throat, having finally finished the meal. “So, Walburga, how is Orion faring?” Narcissa winces, and for good reason.

“Still dying.” Is the woman’s dry answer and Lucius doesn’t quite hide his flinch well enough.

Saving her husband, Narcissa looks up. “Where exactly were you, Bella? How did the task go?” Bellatrix perks up at her sister's attention.

“I was at Gringotts and it went spectacularly of course,” Bellatrix grins. What did the Dark Lord want from Gringotts? Why Bellatrix’s vault? 

“The Dark Lord entrusted me with something important. Reggie you could be doing such high tasks if you bothered to show!” She glares at him but he pays her no mind, ‘something important’ would Voldemort give Bellatrix a horcrux? What else could he have been giving her!

“Providing that man with more of our money then,” Walburga drawls, ignoring her half eaten food, “I hope when you’re bowing at that man’s feet you find a way to maintain the dignity any Black should have.” There it is, his mother cannot restrain herself for long.

“It is the least we can do, Burga,” Druella interrupts and Walburga’s eye twitches at the name, “Voldemort has a difficult mission ahead of him. The cause could use all the help it can get, help we can provide! Our sacrifice will be rewarded when he wins! A man like that deserves to be bowed to.” Druella has a starry look in her eye and the rest of the room, except Bellatrix of course, gawks at her. Even Lucius knows a Black should not bow.

“A Black does not bow!” Walburga roars. “The Dark Lord’s cause is a noble one, one we have been needing for far too long. But we do not bow at any feet! We are the strongest of Houses! We are unreachable and we will not ground ourselves to be more serviceable to someone beneath us!” This was inevitable from the moment everyone sat down but that doesn’t stop it from leaving the room in a frigid hush. 

“I think it’s time we head to the fire.” Lucius clips shortly and everyone quickly rises.

Regulus loiters for a moment more while everyone files out, his mother is not quite right. All Blacks bend to one another's words and expectations, the life of a Black is a life spent cowering in privacy and mocking in public.

And he wonders, as he follows them out, if the third crow once thought it would fly, or if it always knew it would stay on that branch.

The others apparate from the drawing room in silence but Regulus waits for his mother, who has gone to take her husband some food. He hears her descend the stairs and tries to listen to her heels click but Walburga walks as though she’s on air, leaving no sound behind. “Do you remember what I spoke to you about the other day?” He knows she’s being vague on purpose, to make him scramble to be right knowing he’ll be punished for being wrong.

Regulus plays it safe, “Of course, Mother,” His mother nods, not caring whether he does or not, merely testing his ability to slither past. 

“What do we know about Voldemort?” She stares at him, eyes far too intense but Regulus doesn’t squirm.

“Nothing. We know absolutely nothing. He shares nothing. Voldemort cannot be his real name so I cannot trace his name back to anything. He gains his followers through threat and manipulation, they wouldn’t dare question him so he’s never caught out.” Walburga frowns and Regulus shuffles his feet, feeling once more like a child hoping his mother is pleased enough with his response. He feels a shred of dread, Mother seems set on digging into Voldemort’s past, just as Regulus is but eventually he’s going to learn something, other than the horcruxes, and she’s going to know he’s hiding it.

“Keep looking.” And with that demand his mother disappears in a poof of silver light. Naturally, he follows.

Regulus is welcomed by an expansive field with a roaring fire in the center. Around 500 people mingle under the celestial sky. The area is Wizard ground meaning there’s a distinct lack of light pollution, the stars shine down on them, Canis Major is clear and Sirius gleams brightly. This is where they go every Yule - Łódź, Poland. It’s generally the centre of Europe, making it the most agreeable place for wizards and witches across the continent. 

Gliding through the field Regulus stresses himself out by thinking about Bellatrix’s task. Dumbledore has confirmed that there’s more than one horcrux - which is an alarming idea as it is, but Bellatrix having one is somehow worse. His cousin has dedicated herself to the man, she’d rather die than break his flimsy trust, though Bellatrix would surely be tortured and murdered rather than whatever exile she’s deluded herself into believing she’d receive. Somehow he needs to work out if she really has it and then he has to work out how to get into her vault.

Every pureblood family has a collective vault they all share and then each individual has their own vault, Bellatrix stated that she went to her vault meaning he can’t just waltz in. Each vault has a key that can be used to access it, or they can prove identity with their wand so he either needs to somehow pose as her and take her wand or he finds the key and breaks into the most secure and impenetrable building in the world. Great. Concluding that Regulus has earned a break, he’ll deal with it tomorrow.

His family is somewhere to his left, making their way closer to the fire. Instead of going to them Regulus looks for his friend, Evan is bound to be here somewhere. Pandora used to attend but hasn’t the last year and Barty occasionally cares to show but for the most part just abuses the fact his father will be gone all night with the rise of drunk youths that can be found on Yule. They used to bring Dorcas, whose family hadn’t bothered even though her fathers side were magical, but she hasn’t been in two years. 

It takes about five minutes to find the other boy, loudly exclaiming to some poor man about how alcohol should be provided free, as if Evan clearly hasn’t found a way around that.

“Reg!” He grins as Regulus approaches and Regulus rolls his eyes fondly.

“Hello, Evan,” He drily responds and the man, who had been nodding diligently at Evan, takes the distraction to slip away.

Evan meets him in the middle and throws an arm around him, typically he would throw the arm off but after dinner he allows it.

“How was dinner? As lovely as I imagine, surely!” His voice drips in sarcasm, Evan’s specialty, and Regulus groans as Evan laughs. “Want an escape?” Before he can even respond, his friend is already bounding towards his family leaving Regulus to chase after him.

The family is once again standing in silence as they approach. “Mr and Mrs Malfoy, Mrs Lestrange, Mrs Black and Mr Black and Aunt Druella, it is lovely to see you. I trust you’ve had a good Yule?” Evan speaks opulently and you’d think he had never touched a drop of alcohol.

“Evan! Good to see you! Dinner was… pleasant.” Druella responds, smiling at her nephew, she had once been a Rosier.

“I’m glad,” No one but Regulus picks up on the sarcasm. “Mrs Black would it be at all possible for me to steal your son just for tonight. Me, Mulciber and Wilkes were planning on meeting to get ahead of our school work in the morning and it would be easier if Regulus was already at the house.” Evan seems to give off the energy of a hard working and focused individual and has built up a reputation of being a ‘good kid’ - if only they knew the truth. Walburga purses her lips and Regulus holds his breath.

“I suppose that would be alright.” Is the simple response and Evan knows to take it.

“Thank you, Mrs Black.” Evan smiles with faux sweetness. The family walks away and the smile turns wicked.

“We aren’t actually spending our time with Mulciber and Wilkes right?” Regulus asks, already knowing the answer.

“Of course not! Barty’s got a bottle of firewhiskey at his house!” Evan drags him away.

The rest of the night passes quickly with the new and better company. They find themselves talking to a woman who plans on doing a fertility ritual. It is common at these magical events for people to practice rituals when the magic is at its strongest.

“What exactly do you have to do?” His friend asks eagerly.

The woman, Esme who seems to be about 30 years old, is sitting on her knees with a white dress on, “I make a cut in each palm,” She does so as she says it with a beautiful dagger with vines engraved around the hilt. “I place my hands over my stomach and then recite some words, any more questions before I begin?” Not wanting the woman to be sat in blood for any longer than necessary, Regulus asks immediately.

“Why?” Esme smiles sadly.

“All my previous pregnancies have ended in miscarriage. I promised my husband if this does not work we will stop trying. This is my last chance, there is nothing more that I want than a child to love,” It feels rare to find someone so dedicated to their child, let alone their unborn and even nonexistent one. 

“I hope it goes well,” Evan informs genuinely.

“Is there anything we can do to strengthen it?” Regulus wonders.

“You can join me in saying Da iuventae when I get to it, if you would?” She questions almost shyly and both nod keenly. “Thank you both!” Esme declares and stands.

“I thank the Maiden, the Mother and Crone for walking with us on this night. I ask the Mother to help me have the child I have yearned for. I ask the Maiden to help my child in their growth. And I ask the Crone to guide me in giving them the life they deserve. Da iuventae. Da iuventae. Da iuventae.” The two join her in saying it for around a minute before the woman suddenly drops back to her knees, both rush towards her but she raises an arm to stop them, breathing deeply. Esme looks up and grins, standing again. “I think it worked!” Evan whoops and Regulus grins with her. “I’ll know for sure soon, thank you for joining me! Happy Yule!” She whisks off to a man who apparates in the distance, they watch as she throws herself at him and he laughs brightly, lifting her in the air, not even worrying about her bloodied hands on his clothes.

“That was nice,” Evan sighs and Regulus can’t help but agree. “Go to Barty now?” 

“I suppose we should see the idiot,” Evan chuckles and they apparate.

Crouch Manor isn’t a manor, it’s relatively small - really it’s a house, but Crouch Sr insists on the name. The entrance is a hallway to a living room and kitchen and there’s stairs that lead to the bedrooms and bathroom. It’s small but lived in unlike either of Evan and Regulus’ houses. Barty’s mother, a lovely woman named Celia, is very sick and is currently in St Mungo’s, Barty will rarely mention it and Barty Sr is almost never at home and when he is, he may as well not be. 

“Barty?” Regulus beckons, wasting no time in ascending the stairs.

Regulus has been snuck in here multiple times though there’s not really a reason to sneak as Celia loves him and Barty Sr isn’t there to notice. This means he knows exactly where he’s going and lets himself and Evan into Barty’s bedroom. The room is an organised chaos, clutter lays on a beige desk and two bookshelves take up the majority of a wall and a bottle of muggle vodka is standing on the floor, a quarter empty. The boy himself is starfishing on his double bed, one foot dangling off. “Hello there,” Barty looks up and beams at them.

“Started the party without us?” Evan questions and glances at the bottle as though he hasn’t had even more to drink.

“Never!” He gasps and Regulus whacks his legs to make him move over so he can flop onto the bed too as Evan goes straight for the bottle.

“Regulus, can we tempt you?” The blonde shakes the bottle as he wiggles his eyebrows and Barty kicks him in the leg.

“One shot.” Both cheer and Regulus drags himself to sit up and doesn’t bother to hide his upturned lips.

Barty, unsurprisingly, has nothing in their direct vicinity to pour it into and no one wants to go downstairs so they each pass the bottle around and take a swig. Regulus shifts so Evan can drop on the bed on his other side and they all droop in a line against the wall. Being here Regulus can truly relax, there is nothing to hide from Evan or Barty, there is no family to shadow over him, no Dark Lords to vanquish.

“Give me the bottle,” Regulus demands. Barty raises an eyebrow but concedes so Regulus takes a few big gulpes deciding he deserves it after all that, his face creases at the horrid taste and his friends don’t hesitate to mock him. Smacking them both on the arm makes him feel better and they laugh as Barty pretends to smash onto the bed, whining about how he could’ve died.

After a few moments of comfortable quiet Evan speaks softly, “I wish we could stay here,” His voice is both bitter and wistful. 

“We can’t,” Barty replies, not quite as soft but no less bitter.

“We can pretend. Just for now,” Regulus borderline pleads and they nod in agreement.

“How was dinner? Did Burgy explode?” Barty moves them on. He also refuses to say Regulus’ mothers true name the same way he won’t say Sirius’. Regulus recites the night to them and they both wince throughout but chortle when he tells them of how Cygnus had kept quiet after his initial argument with Walburga. Evan tells Barty about Esme and Barty tells them how his mother had done a fertility ritual before having him which led into a whole debate in the logistics of the Triple Goddess.

Evan falls asleep half way through their discussion about Professor Binns and how useless the ghost is and Regulus slopes onto Barty’s shoulder.

“You’re my bestest friend, you know?” Barty says slowly.

Having experienced far too many emotions tonight, Regulus says “You sound like a five year old,” and gets a kick to the leg, yet again, for his trouble.

“Don’t be a twat! Really though, you might just be my favorite person,” Raw emotional sincerity like this is rare from the boy so Regulus gives him the benefit of the doubt.

“I suppose you can be mine,” He states as though he’s doing Barty a favour but both already know the truth.

“Generous!” Barty giggles, swaying just a bit. “Are you coming with us on New Years?” He feels Barty turn his head towards him rather than seeing it.

Regulus almost says yes without thinking but the Order meeting is that night and he’s yet to decide if he’s doing. “I might,” Barty hums.

“I can sense in my bones that it has something to do with Black,” Regulus jolts and Barty sighs. “He doesn’t deserve it. Whatever you’re doing for him, he doesn’t deserve it. He never will,” Barty can be so blindly loyal to those he cares for. Regulus has no doubt that deep down Barty understands exactly why Sirius left but for Barty that isn’t enough. Two days after Sirius ran, Regulus came here and Barty had picked him up off the ground and reminded him how to stand tall. Regulus had been in an absolute state, one that Barty will likely never forget and therefore never forgive Sirius for because that was who Barty had chosen to blame. Sirius lurks just beyond their vision, Sirius is easier for Barty to blame because Regulus is still with Walburga and he knows the other boy very well may kill Regulus’ mother if he thinks too hard about it. Because Sirius had hurt Regulus a long time before he left and Barty will never fail to remember that that.

“He does,” Regulus claims softly and the other scoffs.

“He doesn’t have a place in your heart anymore. He gave that up years ago,”

“Then I will find him a new one,” Regulus breathes out as his eyes slip closed, briefly registering Barty pulling them down the bed to rest.

Regulus is glad he’s not on the branch alone.