There Was Something Poetic About The Way Regulus Had Run Into Andromeda And Narcissa In Almost The Exact

As an Unspeakable, Reg couldn't talk about his work with non-unspeakables, and there were spells he'd agreed to be placed on him in order to undertake such work. He found the intricacies of Caradoc's job fascinating, and loved asking about the nuances of what he'd broken through that day. "I wondered once if wizards had helped to create the Muggle parliament, so it's curious to know they may have created Stonehenge too. It's a shame these sorts of things aren't written down, I'd love to know where we've been involved and if we were working alongside muggles," he mused, gaze following Caradoc's hand. He reached up, fingertips brushing through his hair as he touched the same spot gingerly. "Did someone check your head once you were finished?"

"It's hot," Reg said pointlessly as Caradoc lifted the mug straight to his lips, and he rolled his eyes fondly. He left his own cup on the coffee table, needing to leave his hands free so he could dispel the nervous energy in his body by tapping his fingers against his knee. He'd spent most of the day trying to figure out exactly how to set everything out for Caradoc, now that the other man was in front of him he seemed to have forgotten everything he'd mentally rehearsed.

Frowning slightly, Reg bit down on his lip before he took a deep, steadying breath. "Before I start, I just want to...ugh, I just..." he stumbled over his words, before finally settling on what he wanted to say. "I know that us being together has already put you at some risk, because of my family...but what I want to tell you might put you at significant risk. Life-threatening risk. And you'll have to keep it incredibly secret while things play out, otherwise...well. So I guess this is me offering you a way out before I confess all my sins."

Caradoc brightened up a bit when asked about the job. He loved when people showed interest because he loved what he did. To him, curses were absolutely fascinating. “It was a curse on Stonehenge! Wizards must have had a hand in its initial creation. A colleague and I were sent out to deal with it, as there were reports of muggles being affected. It was a bit difficult, ‘cause I got knocked back into one of the stones at first—” he paused, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. “—but we got it sorted out.”

He gladly took his cinnamon tea with a smile, grateful to be with Regulus, as he was so thoughtful in remembering his favorite drink. Not caring about it being hot, Caradoc sipped at it, letting the warmth flow down his throat. The slight burn reminded him that yes, Regulus did have something important to tell him.

Caradoc turned to face his boyfriend, leaning against the cushions and holding his tea with one hand. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said with a smile, not wanting Regulus to be nervous about it. Whatever it was, they’d handle it together.

At the woman's suggestion, Fenrir considered it for a moment. "Gruyere is an incredible suggestion. I did think about using a goats cheese, or a sheeps cheese to add depth I might do that for a smaller side dish rather than the main menu. Maybe some chargrilled leeks with goats cheese, a little bit of balsamic drizzle..." Fenrir would have to try it at home before he started messing about with his finely tuned menu here. "You can have the recipe if you like."

"You know which cheese could also work really well with this? A Gruyére. Or some aged red wine cheese. They have that sharpness that cheddar has but it's more layered." Talking about cheese was her favorite past time. "I'll have to try to make that at home one time. I doubt it'll be as good as yours, but I'll try my best."

Cassandra took a sip of her drink before setting it down again, surveying Lucius with careful eyes. She knew of the other man's nature and could only imagine how protective he may grow over a child, particularly a son, and nodded as he spoke. "What healers is she seeing? Not the Mungos healers, surely? But whatever midwife Narcissa is seeing, have they said that the baby is progressing as standard? Morning sickness should start to subside as you get further into the second trimester, but she may start feeling very sore and tired. Something as simple as a back or shoulder massage might set her at ease, and might help with those mood swings...Are your elves well versed in foods suitable for pregnant women?"

He knew there were others he could talk to, but there were only some he could trust. Cassie was one of them. "I know." He leaned back in his chair, nodding his head at her congratulating them. Lucius was waiting until they found out the sex of the baby, wishing for a boy to carrying the family name on. "She is about fifteen weeks." He had been counting, a calendar made. "Moody, sensitive with certain smells and food, some morning sickness. Seems to be getting better. I want to be better prepared. I come seeking your advice."

Regulus glanced back at Frank's basket again before plucking some ginger from the shelf and dropping it into the other man's basket. "I hear ginger's quite helpful for warding off sickness. Make her some teas or something," he offered, recalling from an advanced potions book he'd read a few years back. "Nothing like a screaming mandrake to ward off potential burglars," he said with a small smile, before the smile quickly vanished. "I think it might be too late to stop the passage of time...maybe I can study it though, at the ministry. See what I can do."

"It's gotta be a fake moustache...gotta commit, y'know. It can't be Regulus Black's shitty moustache. Maybe I should use a hair growth potion."

"Thanks," Frank said, sorting the ingredients to make sure he'd have enough for the few other things he had to pick up. "Now I'm definitely picking you up some other ingredients when I come back. I might plant a few for our apartment, they're good for security as well. Then I won't have to buy as many. Tell time to give you a break, you're too young for it to do so much damage."

He laughed before he could help himself, smothering his smile when the shopkeeper gave them both a confused look. "Well future Albert, it will be a pleasure to meet your mustachioed future self."

Fenrir much preferred the quietness of this evening with Pandora to attending the Selwyn party where certain pure-bloods would look down their noses at him for his dirty blood when he knew full well they would work alongside him on a battle field without thinking anything further. If not for Pandora, he would have gone - though he'd have been in a foul temper all evening. "I can cast warming charms over you when we head out, but you know that I'll keep you warm," he said, knowing she liked the way he ran hot. He'd built up the fire in the living room of the cabin anyway, but his witch would curl into his side and seek warmth from him and he knew it. "Of course I do. If you weren't fun sized, I wouldn't be able to do this," he turned in her hold before lifting her easily so she could settle her legs around his waist. "There. You can see me eye-to-eye now," he grinned at her.

"Tell me," he said, his grin disappearing as he tried to guess from her tone what she might want to discuss.

If Pandora could stay here, call this their home, she would in a heart beat. All that was missing was Magnus. Perhaps next year, the four of them, never one to leave out Nancy, could spend it together. Her nose wrinkles at the popping of the champagne bottle, ready to have a little drink, yet, she would not unwind her arms around his, wanting to feel their fingers tangled together.

"I cannot wait to got outside and share them with you." He was like a furnace and would keep her warm, not having to dress to warm to go outside. "It sounds like heaven." Anywhere with him felt like that, a cloud nine she never wanted to come down on. There was no denying how short she was, especially beside him. "You like me fun size anyway," she teased back soflty.

"There was something I wanted to talk to you about." There were not many she talked about her magic with, except one who had shown interest recently, and with her clock finished, she hesitated a little to reach out, but there was this deep seeded need to please Bellatrix.

Timothée Chalamet for Rolling Stone magazine, December 2024

"There's a small dash of mustard in there too, and some nutmeg," he said. He may work in a pub kitchen, he may be looked down upon within society, but he saw no reason to serve shit food. He kept his employers happy, and they continued to turn a blind eye to the days off that he requested each month like clockwork. "I find that the two work very well together. Just the right balance of each, and some finely sliced potatoes and...voila, or whatever the French say."

"Oh cheddar and parmesan together is a great idea. Usually people shy away from combining two stronger flavor profiles but I do find that they compliment each other well."

There was a saying that Regulus perhaps should have remembered upon entry to the Lestrange household, and that was 'don't poke the bear'. Upon seeing Alecto's eyes, it was fairly clear to him that his humour and general wit was not welcome here presently, and he shot her a wide grin. It would intimidate him if not for the fact he knew he held a soft spot in her dark heart, and his parents had trained him to be able to take a beating. He mimed as if he was knitting to her, before holding his hands up in surrender. 'Sorry,' he mouthed, trying to school his features to look somewhat sheepish.

Despite being a little shit, Regulus didn't want to truly piss off one of the few people that was still in his corner.

An owl had been sent earlier to warn her of his appearance. She was inclined to send one back refusing his visit, but with being home from Hogwarts for the weekend, and no use of her needed for the cause at the moment, his presence wasn't entirely horrid.

Each word that uttered from his incompetent mouth ignited a fire inside of her, her fingers itching to wring his neck for being so insolent. Eyes narrowed like daggers at the young Black wizard, her wand in a close hand, where she pointed it at him. "Silencio" A single word held him tight lip. Alecto turns to face him. "It appears Regulus Black, you have forgotten your manners and who I am." A coldness to her tone, not unusual for her. "Do not make me regret allowing you over." She warns, taking a deep breath. "If I let you speak, will you behave? I will not hold back from torturing you if you try me."

Privately, Regulus continued to feel that Edgar was wildly optimistic. Good always wins was all well and good, but they were fighting against an army with people who would torture and maim non-discriminately. "You better have something other than hope up your sleeve, Mr Bones. Otherwise we will be in serious trouble," Regulus warned. He knew the Order had numbers, but he knew that the Death Eaters had time, ancient prejudice, and money on their side that the Order did not - and that had to count for something. "We shall see."

Nodding his head gratefully at Edgar's affirmation, Reg stood up as he ran a hand through his hair. With the grace of a pureblood, Reg waltzed out of the open door, a painted on smirk on his lips. "I hope this teaches you not to question the Black family any further. Thank you for affirming our innoncence, Mr Bones," he called down the corridor as he headed towards the lifts, steeling himself for a full shift of work in the Department of Mysteries after everything that had just happened.

Fin.

This was both unchartered territory for the both of them, but Edgar has faith that they could offer the protection that Regulus Black needed. They had the resources in both the ministry and the order.

"It might feel like there is no end in sight, but this is where we have hope that the right thing will come to be. Good always wins over evil." They may be feeling the pinch now, but he knew the shift would happen and when it did, he would bring those to justice for their crimes. "And we can match their tenacity. We are much stronger than they give us credit for."

"I will of course." The less that knew about Regulus, the better it would be in the long run. "Yes, of course you can leave." Edgar went to stand up, walking around his desk to open the door for him. "Back to work, you've wasted my time." A stern tone to his voice, in case there were others listening in or passing by.

Being an auror meant working unusual and irregular hours and days, and Kingsley wouldn’t change it for a thing. Much of his spare time was now filled with Order business, but he was determined that at least once a week he would try and see his sister and his nephew. The war was important, but not so important that he would toss his family aside for it. His battle injury that had left him near to death had solidified that importance – and it was that injury that made him so scared of Sade increasing her involvement. Kingsley had never truly struggled for words, but he wasn’t sure how to express to his sister how scared he was of losing her to the Death Eaters. And what would happen to Jasper without his mother?

Shooting his sister a sheepish smile at her surprise, Kingsley threw himself down onto the couch with a heavy sigh. “I’ll knock more than once next time, sorry. I probably should’ve sent an owl too,” he said, kicking his shoes off to make himself comfortable. “Not so urgent that I can’t wait for the kettle. I’d be glad of a cup of tea, I don’t mind making it if you want to stay sat down.”

A long day rounded up with a seamless bedtime for Jasper and a cup of tea had become the norm for Sade in recent months. While other twenty-seven year olds were thankful for a wild night, Sade's evenings were made with a book and a warm beverage. Evidently, her intention to be a bit more independent as Jasper grew had faltered slightly, but Sade wouldn't change it for the world. Sade was just about to embark on a new chapter, to engrossed in her book to notice a brief knock at the door. Sade jumped slightly in surprise as her brother made his way into her living room.

"Merlin, Kings." Sade exclaimed in surprise, although her tone remained quiet. "Unexpected visits are always welcome, but perhaps a louder knock next time." She teased, setting her book down on her coffee table. "Too urgent for a cup of tea? Or can it wait until the kettle brews?"