Chapter Text
The bell above the Cafe door jingled. The cold winter wind flowing through the door as the hinges slowly creaked, the only light being the amber glow of streetlamps filtering through the frosted windows. The murmur of voices surrounding the air, but not one conversation could be clearly made out... A man stepped in, rings on his fingers, guitar on his back, cassette in hand. He wore a long grey coat over a dress shirt and slacks, black snow boots worn from use. He wasn’t the kind of man who commanded attention, nor did he seem particularly remarkable. He removed his hat, Black curls bouncing out of the green beanie he was wearing. His sharp features softened by the dimly lit cafe, he gave a small nod to the barristers as he made his way to the stage. “Leonardo Brown,” he introduced himself when the bartender asked his name, his voice steady, with an accent that hinted at something foreign though it was difficult to place. The name was scribbled on the top of the label stuck to a cassette tape, He started by placing the cassette within the jukebox as the familiar sound of the recorded drumkit played as he took out his pick and sat down. The man took a breath and he begun to play
"So, in '97, I gave up my future
I'd been raised to reject my human nature
In the hopes that I'd be praised
I thought SOS meant "save our souls"
Instead, it meant jack shit
'Cause nobody came to help me when I told myself I'd quit
I trusted blindly, was it wrong for me to latch on tight?
'Cause I didn't realize nettles stung and apples weren't all white
Ignorance is bliss or maybe ignorance is bait
'Cause I didn't deserve heaven, but I'm standing at its gate"
The notes weren’t quiet, but they were all the more haunting and mesmerizing. They flowed through the room like a whisper of something deeper than the shell of the song, a hidden melody within the lyrics and past the strum of strings. It was a song that spoke of dark things, things buried, forgotten and dangerous. He closed his eyes for a brief second before opening them, but they were not the same as before. His eyes were clouded, distant, like he was staring into the darkest pit of a cave as he continued,
"Was I the only one to question anything they said?
I take it back, I'll follow 'til I fly or 'til I'm dead
My immortal evolutionary traits are still intact
I am unapologetic for the empathy I lacked
I left my body back in Cali, I'm not bothered to return
The taste of apple sauce and vodka aren't my main concerns"
After those last lyrics he seemingly came back into reality, shaking off his previous thoughts, his eyes darting from one corner to the next, scanning the room, as though to reassure himself that the ghosts weren’t truly there, they were only in his mind.
For in reality, he was the ghost here, a shadow with no past. The knowledge that darkness was never to far behind and music being the only things holding his fragile thoughts to the world, gripping him to reality. The final chord of the song still lingered in the air as he took a deep breath slowly reminding himself, he isn’t in the past. But then, a soft clap seemingly jolted him out of his thoughts, then another joined in. And soon, the entire room was applauding. he took a small bow the way he had to when he was younger after he had finished a piano exam.
But truly, he wasn’t here for their praise. He wasn’t here for anything other than to stay hidden… at least for one more night, and he could hope, maybe, for a few more. Leonardo brown, A name no one would ever recognize. A name that, in this corner of the world, could be anyone, yet still holding ties to his past. For having no ties to his past would be obvious, having lingering ties, you can hide directly in plain sight. As the night stretched on Leo played a few more songs, not as deep as the last but still holding the weight of someone who has lived in a different life, the customers went back to their drinks, their lives, never knowing that the man they’d just watched was not just a musician. He was a man who had been dead to the world for 15 years, and yet, somehow, still clung to life by the thinnest of threads.
For he was waiting.
Waiting for the pieces to fall into place.
Waiting for the day when he would finally have the strength to destroy what he had once helped build.
For, buried deep within the depths of his memories he held a secret. A secret that lingered like a curse and it would be the very thing that would undo him. If he could stay alive long enough, if he could remain hidden, continue playing dead, perhaps… perhaps there was a chance. But the shadows of that past had a way of creeping back, no matter how far one ran.
Regulus Black had been dead for 15 years. But tonight, in this small café, he was very much alive.
The truth was, Regulus, or Leonardo, as he now called himself, had stumbled upon something too dangerous, too vital to ignore. He had uncovered the Dark Lord’s secret, a secret that could unravel everything, but to destroy it, he had to stay alive. And staying alive meant hiding in plain sight, in a world that had no knowledge of the magic that had once been his whole life. Fifteen years in the Muggle world. Fifteen years in the quiet, unassuming life of a man who simply played guitar in cafes and pubs, never drawing too much attention, never staying in one place for too long. His name meant nothing here. His bloodline was irrelevant. To the Muggles, he was just another musician, scraping by in a world where money flowed differently, where the dangerous past was buried, forgotten, or never known.
There was only one thing for certain, regardless of what world he lived in, Regulus Black was alive, merely needing a small sign to return to the world of his past.