Regulus ;; Threads - Blog Posts

Reg leant his head gently against the top of Caradoc's, relaxing into the comfort and security he found when his boyfriend was near. "I won't tell you not to be scared. I'm terrified, more so now...and now I have someone other than just me to worry about. Whatever comes, we'll face it together...be it good, or bad," he said, trying to be strong for the both of them despite the anxiety that seemed to be constantly nestled within his soul. "I don't want any regrets either, or any 'what could have beens'. I love you, my dear. I love you and I'm choosing you over anything else."

Reg considered Caradoc's words before sighing. "The likelihood of them not being related to me is slim...all purebloods seem to be related in one way or another, it's just a matter of closeness. Come back here when you're done, we can debrief from it all. I might be able to help you identify some of the people you fight against, then you can pass the information to Edgar. For now, why don't we go upstairs? I'm exhausted, let's head to bed."

Fin.

“Yeah, I hope the tide changes too,” Caradoc murmured, leaning his head against Regulus’s shoulder. “But I’m scared. Even going home makes—makes me scared. Not a ton of people know me, I know that, but muggle-borns are getting captured and killed every day. I-I don’t want to die, Reg. I want to have a life with you. If something . . . If something ever happens to me, I just . . . I don’t want to have any regrets, you know? I don’t think I can fix things up with my parents, but I can have a relationship with you. And that’s what I want.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, trying to keep calm, trying not to think about all the horrors in their world right now. “I have another mission tomorrow—for the Order. Gonna try and get some Death Eater intel. Not exactly sure who we’re going after, but I don’t think it’s anyone related to you,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll get back from late.” And hopefully he wouldn’t need to visit St. Mungos, he thought to himself.

"Oh, if I were suddenly nice, assume that I've got some sort of terminal illness and I'll be gone within the week," he snorted with amusement, pulling a vial of powdered griffin claw from the shelf. "There's a difference between knowing, and hoping. Let a man cling to the only hope he has left for a bit of peace, Val."

“I think the moment that you are suddenly nice, we all know that something is up with you,” Val agreed with the young man standing in front of her. Regulus wasn’t known for his sunny display. She couldn’t stop herself from laughing at the next comment from him. “I’m sorry, that was me not being nice this time around. You should know by now that Diagon Alley is never busy.”

"If you needed the whole stock, and you were here before me, then that's your right," Regulus said with a shrug. The whole thing seemed quite simple to him - he wasn't sure why it was so complicated for everyone else to understand. "I'm fairly well known for being a bit of a grump, Longbottom. Politeness to others is something I have to think quite hard about."

"Oh, I know the owner is avoiding me. Perhaps I should enter next time under a disillusionment charm, or indeed under some other disguise."

"But what if I had needed the stock that was there?" Frank asked, enjoying this debate. Regulus structured his arguments well and speaking with him wasn't nearly as frustrating as talking to Bellatrix. "Perhaps you ought to start asserting your boundaries as the customer there first. Just, you know, politely."

He hummed and glanced over at the counter where the owner seemed to have disappeared, just as Regulus said. "I think the owner's avoiding you. You'll have to take them by surprise."

The tone of his cousin's voice broke through Regulus' rambling worries, and he looked up at her. Regardless of her affirmations, Regulus would carry regret for the way he had treated her for the rest of his life. "I was just a boy, trying to make his parents proud," he said quietly. "You left, then Sirius left, and they were determined nobody else would leave. The pressure, merlin...it was constant, unbearable. And that's just my parents, that's not even considering Bella," he breathed, still incredibly confused and conflicted about his feelings for the intense witch. Picking up his cup of tea, Regulus took a long sip, hoping the warmth would settle him somehow. "Oh, me too. A visit from my parents would ruin my whole week," he said, with a small smile.

It was the first time he'd been able to voice his concerns to someone who he hoped would listen without judgment. He could have talked to Caradoc, but he hadn't wanted to burden the other man with all of this when whatever they had was still new and precious to him. "Bella will kill me. If she doesn't, my parents will. You and Sirius were bad enough....but for me to be marked, to have been on the 'right path' and to still leave? They won't let that stand. It's an embarrassment, I'm an embarrassment," his voice was small and sad. He truly could only see one way that this ended - it was just a matter of how much time he could steal before it happened. "I can't see a way out of this...but if I don't, the war will kill me anyway. I froze up in battle the other day, having a panic attack behind my mask. I couldn't stand to see another person die by my hand."

A fond smile tugged at his lips as he thought more about Caradoc, and he offered Andromeda a soft shrug of his shoulders. "It just kinda happened. I didn't know his blood status when it started, and then I realised...it's the least interesting part of him. I understand a lot more now than I did before."

"Regulus..." Andromeda didn't mean to sound stern as she said his name, but she didn't want him to be reliving everything he thought he had done wrong. "You've never been cruel, the family cut me off for my choices and I understand why you did so as well. Trust me, I know just how easy it is to just go with their decisions. To not question what they're telling you, if it weren't for Ted I'd likely be following in Bellatrix's footsteps." She feigned a shudder at the thought, though the idea certainly was a terrifying one. As he explained that the house was strongly warded she felt herself relax more. She didn't think it was a trap, but one never knew when family might pop in for a visit out of nowhere. "I won't lie, I'm relieved to know my estranged family won't be stopping by." A small laugh, trying to lighten the situation.

Her heart ached as Regulus explained what was going on, how much he was struggling. She'd had an inkling that things were not going well the last time she'd seen him. He deserved happiness, a life that he chose just like she and Sirius had. And to know that he was marked, that this was the path his family had put him on. Pain for him and anger at her family warred within her. "Listen to me Reg....there is always time to change things. You don't have to keep doing this." She squeezed his hand gently. "We can get you out of it, we can figure it out. This doesn't have to be your life. She assured him, her eyes meeting his. "You are not just a spare to me and you never were. You're my family, and no matter what I am by your side. If you want to get out of their ranks we can figure out how to do it."

A moment's pause before a small smile rose to her lips. "Now on another note, a muggle guy is it? Perhaps now you understand why I made the choices I did?"

Regulus was trying to balance too many spinning plates between his family duties, his duties to the war, his own misgivings, and the secrets he was trying to keep. He did not want to sit here under Bellatrix's beady eye, knowing he had disappointed her since he was a boy and that he continued to be an ever present reminder of what the Black family could have had, and that they were left with him instead. He had tried - nobody could say that he hadn't tried. Merlin, he'd torn his soul in two trying to be good enough. He'd cast curse after curse, he'd trained and trained, he had gone on plenty of successful missions - yet it had stained his soul until he was truly fit for the Black name. The pressure from all sides was drowning him, pouring down his throat and choking his airwaves. He couldn't continue like this, but he couldn't see another way out. He felt like there was only one way this ended for him, and it was a permanent closure to the story of Regulus Black.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Regulus kept his eyes trained on his cousin. He would not cower in front of Bellatrix, no matter the way his insides were twisting with anxiety and fear about what she may demand of him. He loved her, truly, he did. A large part of Regulus resisting against the conscience that had been gnawing at his soul for so long had been that he did not want to go the way of Andromeda, of Sirius. He did not want to lose Bella, or Cissa. Even his parents, twisted and awful though they were, Regulus would mourn the loss of them in his life. It was all he had ever known, and stepping out into a complete unknown terrified him. At his heart, he felt like a scared little boy. He did not want to lose his family.

Bella's silence at his outburst was chilling, and he made a noise of discontentment at the finger pointed in his direction. "The mission was successful. There was no need for Rabastan to update you on my abilities in the battlefield, that is gossip. I knew you were getting updates on me, nothing is ever fucking private in this family is it?" he spat, furious at both Bellatrix and his mentor. He bit his tongue rather than retorting at her correct assumption that he was trying to distract her. Snatching a biscuit from the tray, Regulus considered that he must truly look like a toddler throwing a tantrum, yet he couldn't bring himself to care as he ate the biscuit with a frown. "Bellatrix, there is no hidden game to my words. I do not want you to teach me," he asserted. "My best is avada. The other two are equally poor, though I would say my imperio is slightly better than my crucio. But I am working on those with Rabastan, and that is the way it will stay."

"I appreciate your offer, I do. I have told you this before, I appreciate...the care that it shows. But I am fine. I don't understand how I can say it more clearly, cousin. I do not want your help."

Bellatrix had loved Sirius. She had admired his spirit, laughing at the way he stuck a middle finger up at every stuffy rule and regulation. She'd valued the way he had never tried to cramp her into a box, labelling her like every other godforsaken male in their family. But he had been full of deceit. His betrayal had destroyed her. It had fuelled her rage and sent her spinning for the Dark Lord more brutally and determinedly than she had known possible. Even now, sitting here with Regulus, she couldn't help but see his brother's face and feel her skin crawling with latent ire. Revenge would be sweet - for Regulus, as much as for herself. She would lay down her life for her youngest cousin, though the fact that he didn't seem to value her devotion hurt. She refused to acknowledge it, focussing only on the fact that the rejection was because she was too intense. It was a selfless consideration for such an egocentric witch, though in large part inspired by her unwillingness to admit to her own weakness.

Not once did she cease her observations. Her eyes may have turned away, but she could feel Regulus squirming beside her despite his valiant attempts at holding composure. She was proud of that. He could wear a mask like the rest of them, painting a picture of noble strength and stoic integrity. So as he sat back casually, a smile snaked her lips, which curved indecorously behind the rim of her teacup. Placing it back onto the saucer, she slid it onto a side table and sat, staring unflinching at Regulus as he spoke. They were like a pair of statuettes, dark haired and pale skinned, the familial resemblance running as strong as the blood that fuelled their limbs. Little did she know the depth of Regulus's struggles. Long may she remain unaware, for it would not please her to kill him. She took pleasure in the devil's work, but that would cause her no satisfaction.

She listened to everything he had to say. Though she had a vested interest in his success - though she desired it tirelessly - she was clever and wily. She would not allow emotional instincts to drive her this time, knowing how he desired detachment - for whatever absurd reason. Not once did she move. Not until his voice sharpened with anger, inspiring yet another twist of approval through her porcelain skin. As the tea splattered across the saucer, she narrowed her eyes and considered him, waiting until his diatribe had ceased.

"You have pride, Regulus. Rightly so." Pointing a finger, her eyes expanded indicatively. "But don't let it come before a fall. There was no gossiping. It was a mission, there were updates, I was informed. Do not use my devotion to the Dark Lord as a way to distract me." She arched an eyebrow, stern despite the amusement that lightened her tone and curved her harsh lips. "Nice try but I'm not an idiot. I know what you're doing. Biscuit?" Flicking her wand, she hovered a tray towards her cousin, not thinking twice about combining a pleasant refreshment with this darker topic. As it floated between them, she picked up a ginger snap and studied it before taking a bite. "Which is your best Unforgiveable and which is your worst?"

Her response was even more confusing than the initial statement, and Regulus continued staring with his jaw agape. He truly couldn't understand Greta's world view. "You are one of the most baffling women I have ever met. If I never had to talk to anyone ever again in public, I would not mind it one bit."

"Of course I do. I love catching up with friends or meeting new people. And sometimes other people are in the shops for the same things you are and can give you advice or their opinion on something. It's incredibly helpful." Greta was a people person through and through, she had no problem walking up to someone and starting a conversation. Not talking to anyone all day would make her feel extremely lonely.

Reg couldn't help the blank way he stared at the other woman as he processed her words with utter bafflement. "You regularly stop and speak to other customers? You don't just...grab your things, pay and move along?" He asked, knowing he would be quite content to not have to speak to anyone at all.

"I find that being in the shops is fun. Well, most of the time. I like the interaction with other people. I'd feel terribly lonely if I would order all of my things to my home, but to each their own, I suppose."

Narrowing his eyes at the other man's amusement, Regulus frowned. "I would qualify it as stealing. It's only polite, see, if someone's stood here first. If you had been here before myself, I would let you take as much of the stock as you needed and made do with whatever was left...like polite, reasonable people do," Regulus said, determined to die on this hill. "Oh, I've tried. Every time I come anywhere near him the owner seems to disappear, and I'm left with the poor people who run the tills."

Frank's lips quirked before he could help it. "I'm not really sure I can qualify that as stealing, though it's definitely unfair." He knew that Regulus was young, almost impossibly young to be so well-spoken and austere, but sometimes the young age showed more than others. "Perhaps you ought to take it up with the owner. Maybe they'd be able to set some aside for you if you gave them forewarning."

Regulus couldn't help the way he flinched at James' easy joke. Sure, it was easy for James Potter - everything came easy to James fucking Potter. And like almost everything else in Regulus' life, Sirius was the first choice and Regulus was the unwanted extra. The little kid clutching his brother's arm, the teenager chasing after his brother's friends, the adult who was chasing everything that Sirius should have been and everything that he was not. "I know Sirius is your...I don't know, favourite person ever or whatever, but I'd appreciate not being lumped in with him any more. He made his choices, and I made mine....and you made yours," all traces of easy teasing gone from his tone, replaced with strained tension. "I'm Regulus, and I am ridiculous...and you've got no insight into my life any more. You wasted that chance."

James' innuendo made Regulus' brain short circuit for a moment, and his jaw fell agape for a moment before he collected himself. "Several years ago, maybe. But I think I'll pass on that now, I've moved on. I am, however, still interested in you grovelling. I am about to be the sole owner of all of England's jewelweed after all," he smirked. "Oh good, I'll make sure to frame it and put it over my mantlepiece."

"You're not Ridiculous, you're Regulus. Easy mix-up, I do it all the time." It was a joke akin to serious/Sirius, and something in that made James feel inexplicably guilty. It wasn't that he felt he was doing anything wrong right now, but the months when he did, years ago, threatened to resurface. Lying to his best friend had been the hardest thing in the world. In the end, he'd chosen to stop – that is, stop meeting Regulus on the astronomy tower every night, stop whatever it was that they had been doing. Sirius meant too much to him to go behind his back. And this wasn't something he could, or would, ever tell him. James made his decision, and it had been (it would always be) Sirius.

"Is that what you want? For me to grovel? Do you want me on my knees, Reg?" The double entendre wasn't intentional, but it floated in the air between them nevertheless. By the time he said it, it was too late to take back. He'd just pretend he didn't hear it. "I appreciate the concern, but I can do one more for you, don't worry."

No matter how hard he tried, Regulus knew that he was a disappointment. He knew that his parents wished that Sirius was still here over Regulus, because he was the stronger of the two boys. He knew that Bellatrix believed Sirius would have made a better Death Eater, and privately, he agreed. The further they got into this war, the more obvious it was becoming to Regulus that this was not the right path for him. Torture turned his stomach, he couldn't cast a strong unforgivable to save his life, and Regulus didn't dare to think about his changing opinions on blood purity in Bellatrix's presence. Even with his occlumency firmly in place, Regulus didn't dare to think even a single thought about Caradoc Dearborn. He had a sinking feeling that whatever Bellatrix had called him here for could not be good, and it was not merely a friendly catch up.

Holding his cup tightly in his hands, Regulus was about to lift the drink to his lips when Bella dropped her spoon and he flinched again. Trying to brush it off, Regulus leaned back into his chair with a practiced air of casual nonchalance. He was, after all, a pureblood. He had been acting his whole life, and though Bellatrix had keen eyes and an iron-clad will, Regulus would not let his cousin trip him up.

"He is more than adequate, he is great. You are the best, and I know you are - you and I both know that. But you are too important to the cause to busy yourself with my inability to cast lasting unforgivables. Let Rabastan deal with that, while you honour the Dark Lord," he said, playing on Bella's absolute devotion. He held her gaze firmly, not wanting to shy away from it no matter the fact he felt she may be piercing into his very soul. "Cousin, I cannot ask that of you," he protested again, before Bellatrix revealed the true reason for her owl. "Ah, so you and Rabastan have been gossiping about me," he said, his tone holding a hint of fury. "That was supposed to be private. It was fine, Rab dealt with it. They didn't even come close to hitting me, because the Order are shit. They are unruly and undisciplined, they have no hope," he said, setting the cup of tea down so firmly that some splashed over the side onto the saucer. "Whether or not I die is nothing to do with you, Bella. You have done your best, but I need you to respect my wishes. I do not want you to teach me." He didn't have the stomach for whatever Bellatrix's teaching would look like, and he knew it. "I appreciate the offer, I do. Truly."

A little fear did wonders - in everyone, not just her enemies. Friends and family were treated equally to her charming personality, though they benefitted from her loyalty and never-ceasing protection, as smothering as it could sometimes be. These days, Bellatrix was acutely aware of the effect she had on those dearest to her. She was fuelled by a desperation to bind them to herself, outraged by both Sirius and Andromeda and the hurt they had ripped through the Black family - through her. So she clung to Cissy and Regulus, trying her hardest to make their lives both worthwhile and worthy. Yet she knew that this approach was not always welcome, and that it had pushed Regulus elsewhere. She was truly and wholeheartedly trying to temper her behaviour. But it was not easy to moderate Bellatrix Lestrange. The witch was too unruly even for herself.

Scoffing at his statement on avoidance, she dropped a few sugar lumps into her cup and stirred it. The spoon swished silently, avoiding the delicate china surround with fine-tuned accuracy. Then it clattered down onto the saucer, undoing all of her careful attention to avoiding jarring noises - speaking of which, while she would ordinarily and happily have soaked up compliments, in this instance she saw right through them. So she raised her cup to her lips and took an indulgent gulp, her eyes remaining centred on him all the while. She did not miss his grimace.

"You deserve more than 'adequate', Regulus. You are the last of the Black heirs. You deserve the best." Her stare was truly like a pair of daggers, sharpened and primed to carve her message home. Sirius was a waste of space and she would not permit Regulus to become the same. He would be great, even if she had to drag him through fire and brimstone to get him there herself. And oh, how she hated Sirius for bringing this fate into Regulus's life. Sirius should have been the Death Eater. She was not a fool - she knew Regulus was not truly suited to it. But it was now his duty and he must fulfil it. They all had duties. He was not exempt. "I will help you. You cannot freeze during battles, cousin. You could have been killed. If that had happened-" She paused, hesitating over her words in the most uncharacteristic manner. Then she continued, practically slicing the words across her tongue, reluctant to express their truthful sentimentality. "I would never have forgiven myself."

"But I've been so cruel to you. We've been so cruel to you, and to...Ted, never mind little Nymphadora. I wouldn't have blamed you at all if you'd said no, and left me to it," Regulus said, a slight wobble to his voice that he tried to pass off with a cough. "I'm glad I did too," he said with a small smile. "Just to set you at ease, this house is very strongly warded. Nobody can apparate or floo inside without a warning first, so if another of our relatives were to appear you would get enough warning to be able to disappear quickly. Nobody really visits me though, I wouldn't worry too much," he shrugged. He liked it that way - it kept his home private and comfortable, and he was more than happy to put in plenty of appearances at his parents house or his other cousins' various manors if it kept them away from his place.

Letting Andromeda take his hand, Reg squeezed back, desperate for the comfort that was being offered. He was silent for a moment, trying to find the right words to voice everything that had been going on. "I...don't think I'm on the right side any more," he gasped out eventually, the words tripping from his lips. "Merlin, I'm absolutely shit at it. I'm probably the worst Death Eater out there. But my ability, or lack thereof, has nothing to do with this. I just...y'know when something's just not sitting right, like in here," he said, gesturing to his chest. "But I'm marked, they made sure of that as soon as Sirius left. I'm just his replacement, the spare...and I'm fucking awful at everything, and the torture makes me sick...and I just....I don't know what to do."

Regulus let the words hang in the air for a moment, before figuring that he had already gone in with secrets that would kill him if she ever told anyone. "And...I've been seeing someone for a few months now. He's lovely. He's muggle-born."

“We’re family. I’ll always be here.” To her that meant regardless of the past, she would always be there for them. They may have wanted nothing to do with her after the choices she’d made, but it changed nothing for her. “And I’m glad you did reach out.” She made her way over to the couch and sat down, observing her surroundings as she waited for Regulus to return. It was so quiet, she only hoped there wouldn’t be any surprise guests while she was here. She knew how the Black family could be when it came to privacy after all. As he returned, her attention went to him. There was no missing the dark shadows beneath his eyes, he looked exhausted. Haunted perhaps would have been a more apt description, leaving her concerned for his well-being.

Without thought, her hand reached for his, an attempt to reassure and comfort him. “You know whatever’s going on that you can talk to me Reg.” Her eyes searched his, trying to understand what might be going on in that brain of his. “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”

"There's a lot of damage in both of those relationships. I did see Andromeda recently, I spoke to her about some of the mess going on in my brain...it was helpful," he said, a hint of a smile on his lips which disappeared as he thought about his brother. "Sirius is a...well, I think it's going to be much more difficult to fix whatever's there. He's strong-willed, we both are. But I want to try, and that has to count for something, right?" Regulus rambled, still unsure exactly how to go about speaking to Sirius about all of this. After all, Sirius had cut all contact with him since leaving home. "My dear, do you want me to come and cast silencing charms? I might be terrible at offensive magic, but warding homes and making them private is something I've forced myself to learn expertly," Reg offered, certain that if he was to publicly leave the Death Eaters then his ability to protect any dwellings he was in would become more important than simply protecting his privacy.

As he continued to keep his arms around Caradoc, Reg felt him relaxing more with each passing minute. Dropping another kiss against the crown of his head, Reg considered the other man's words carefully. "While you're still somewhat unknown, that may be a good idea. If our relationship gets out, a forged ID won't help you...not against my cousin anyway," Reg scrunched his nose up in distaste, thinking about how terrible Bellatrix's wrath would be. "But it's a good idea for now anyways. Things are getting worse, but I'm hoping that with some of the information I'll pass on to Edgar that the tide will start to shift, even slightly."

“It would be great if you could talk to Andromeda and Sirius again,” Caradoc said with a smile. He didn’t know Andromeda very well, but he admired her bravery for standing up to her family and following her heart to be with Ted Tonks. As for Sirius, they weren’t very close, but they were in the Order of the Phoenix together. “I might make it a habit to spend more time here, then. My upstairs neighbors are awfully noisy.” He chuckled, even though it was true.

He felt much more relaxed - protected - now that they had had this conversation. Every single day, Caradoc was on edge, worrying that he was going to be attacked or someone he cared about was going to be put in danger. “You know,” he began. “I was thinking of . . . Getting a forged I.D. Something that says I’m a half-blood, at least. I’ve heard that a couple other muggle-borns are doing it. It hadn’t crossed my mind before but . . . The other day I got stopped by a some guy in Diagon Ally. Don’t think he was a Death Eater, but he was definitely aligned with their ‘cause’. He knew me somehow, and he pushed me around a bit. When I pulled my wand out, he backed off, but . . .” He shrugged. “Things just seem to be getting worse and worse.”

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.

Reg kept his arms firmly around Caradoc, fingers running gently up and down his side to try and soothe him just a little bit. He'd been wrestling for days about what to tell Caradoc, and how to say it but he'd known that the news would not go down well. How could it? Regulus' family history was well known, but for Regulus himself to have been part of the army that wanted to eradicate Caradoc's blood status...he was amazed Caradoc was still here, frankly, never mind that he was curling into Reg for comfort.

"I'm definitely not in a position yet where I want to join the Order. It's tough, really tough...I'm turning my back on my family, my friends. But losing some family means I might regain my relationship with Andromeda, and maybe one day, with Sirius. I'm just not there yet to start truly, actively working against those I've always known on the other side of a battlefield," he said, the words tearing him up inside. Caradoc's quiet hope for the future had Reg's heart hammering in his chest, and he tilted Caradoc's chin upwards so that he could press a gentle kiss against his lips. "I'd like that. We need to make sure it's safe, but I don't want to keep you as my secret forever."

Gazing back at his boyfriend, Reg smiled warmly. "You know you're welcome here any time. My childhood home wasn't comfortable at all...everything was stiff, and proper and there was no space to just be at peace. This little home is...well, its everything I've ever wanted," Reg said fondly, glancing around the slice of the world that he had created for himself.

Caradoc leaned forward and rested his forehead on Regulus’s shoulder, calming down more and more as he listened to his words. The talk about being in danger certainly wasn’t comforting, but they were all in danger no matter what. He was just glad that Regulus was really on the Order’s side (not that he’d doubt it, but seeing the Dark Mark there had been super jarring).

“You don’t have to join the Order. I’m just glad that you’re giving them information. It could really help and prevent people from being killed. They will protect you, I’ll make sure of it. Maybe . . . Maybe, eventually, we could tell them about us,” Caradoc said, his voice quiet and soft. He knew it was silly to care about their relationship being a secret when their lives were at stake, but he needed something to focus on that wasn’t the danger constantly looming over them.

Caradoc leaned back, taking in the beauty of Regulus’s eyes. “I wish I could stay in your house,” he mused. “It’s so comforting in here.” Lately, he’d been disliking his flat more and more. It was small and didn’t have the proper wards set up.

"No rule, but maybe there should be....too often I've been here first, and someone else has just waltzed along and stolen the last vial and then I have to wait for a restock," Reg said with a roll of his eyes. He'd started a small stock of potions ingredients at home, but it never seemed to be enough. "A store that doesn't seem to be able to keep the correct amount of stock in, Longbottom."

"Last I checked, there isn't a rule against browsing the same shelf." Frank said lightly. The Blacks were something else these days, their words cut as sharp as knives. Every single one of them had it and Frank didn't particularly enjoy it. "It's a store, Regulus."

Georgette's explosive attitude brought a small smirk to his lips. With everything else going on in his life, he'd been itching for bit of a fight with very little real life consequences. When everything else was so life-threateningly serious, fighting over some jewelweed in the apothecary was the exact level of stupid that he needed. "That's funny...my mother once said I was her best boy, but my father was shouting at me that I was a fucking waste of space so I guess you've met them somewhere in the middle," he said, head tilted slightly to the side. "Maybe someone should tell you to be polite. You're quite rude, actually."

A dry laugh tore from his throat and he raised his eyebrows in her direction, more than amused at the idea of his parents being any help in this situation. "Oh, I don't need mummy's help any more. I can fight my own battles," he sneered. His advice had been well intended, though he knew it wouldn't land well. "I shall keep my unsolicited advice to myself next time," he said, elbowing her as she shoved past him. Turning back to the shelf, Reg began shovelling random vials into his basket, as many as he could.

Wait her turn politely? Was he fucking serious? They weren't at Hogwarts. And even if they were she would have no problem telling him where to shove it. “You’re a right pain in the ass, you know that I’m sure. Can’t be the first one to mention it.” She took a beat. “I don’t need anyone telling me to be polite.” It wasn’t in her genes.

Georgette had to fight for survival and no one was going to take that away from her, especially not some squirrely little chump with obvious privilege. "Maybe you should run and tell mum and dad on me for being a bitch."

Her face burned. "I know how to take care of myself. I don't need to go to St. Mungo's. This isn't the first time, nor will it be the last, that I take care of my hands myself. I don't need some little know it all giving me his unsolicited advice. Thanks." She pushed near him to look at the vials not giving two shits about invading his personal space.

Regulus was trying to be better, and he supposed that meant reigning in his haughty personality sometimes and overriding the teaching that was innate in him that he was somehow better than others simply by virtue of his birth. “It’s a horrible time of year for shopping…maybe there’s a business opportunity in starting a owl-order service for people who want to avoid this horror.”

Greta tried not taking it personally and get upset, knowing that sometimes people simply had a bad day. So her smil was genuine when he apologised. "I'm sorry too. I should have waited my turn. Let's just forget about it, yeah? Water under the bridge."

Caradoc’s response was to be expected, and he slowly drew his sleeve back down to cover the mark as he continued to stare. Regardless of his shifting allegiances, that mark would blemish his skin forever. He would always feel the burning call when the Dark Lord summoned his followers, and he would always be stained by the choices that he made as a foolish child. What had once been a sign of pride was now a source of shame, but all he could do was try to make better choices from here on in.

“Hey, hey, c’mere,” Regulus wrapped an arm around Caradoc’s shoulder, pulling him closer to try and comfort him. “I want to do good. I want to be better. I’ve spoken to Edgar Bones and I have started feeding him information about some plans I was aware of, and some people that have been imperiused. He’s putting protection in place for me, I’m assuming via the Order…but I’m scared that if it all comes out that the Death Eaters will kill me. But that fear…it’s not enough to keep me there. I was never a very good Death Eater. I’ve been having lessons with someone to teach me to be better at the unforgivables, and just last week I completely froze up in a battle because I was having a panic attack. It can’t carry on like this, and so…I need out. This is it, y’know. This is the turning point of my life, and there’s no going back from here.”

Pressing a kiss to the crown of Caradoc’s head as he tried to play off the emotions, Regulus continued. “I’m not sure that I can put a finger on exactly what started to change my mind. I think it’s a whole mix of things – my discomfort with the torture that’s going on, my own fears and anxieties, the pressure just becoming too much from my family, and this relationship. All of this has added up to me breaking in Edgar’s office and…here we are. It’s so new, it’s terrifying. I’m frightened for my life, and I’m frightened for what comes next. But I know it’s the right thing to do. I don’t want to be a Death Eater any more. I’m not entirely sure I want to be in the Order either, but I will do what I must to help stop the Dark Lord.”

Caradoc involuntarily tensed up when he laid eyes on Regulus’s arm. The Dark Mark. He took in a sharp breath — this was a tough pill to swallow. So many things were running through his head. Regulus had met the Dark Lord? Caradoc got nervous even saying the evil man’s name. If the Order found out that he and Regulus were together, if Death Eaters found out . . . It made his stomach twist up in a knot.

But — it was a good sign that Regulus had shown Caradoc this. It meant that Regulus, as far as he could tell, wanted out. He was taking a huge risk here. “Okay,” Caradoc said quietly. He realized he was staring at the mark and averted his eyes, not wanting to make Regulus uncomfortable. “You want to do good. That’s - that’s good-” he felt a bit lame saying that. “-if you want to defect from them, the Order can protect you. I can protect you.” Caradoc felt tears come to his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.”

He turned his head to the side, still not used to being comfortable with crying in front of others. If his father saw this, he wouldn’t be pleased. Caradoc slumped further against the cushions, a wave of drowsiness hitting him. “This is, um, a side effect of the healing potion I took. Makes people tired and emotional, you know?” He said. It was clearly not true - well, not the emotional part - and a poor excuse for his worries.

Taking a deep breath as Edgar said that he too had no idea what came next, Regulus fought against the wave of anxiety that was telling him he’d made a mistake. His need for self-preservation was fighting against the conscience that Edgar had poked and prodded at, and he could almost feel his cousin over his shoulder whispering that if he killed Edgar now, nobody would ever know what they had spoken about and he could go back to how things had always been.

Brushing off that lingering darkness knowing that it would take a lot of work to dismantle his teachings and beliefs, Regulus nodded slowly. “Hiding until the war is over, with no end in sight….” He murmured, clearly unhappy at the prospect. “Mr Bones, I respect your optimism…I fear that you don’t know quite what you’re up against. You are working against hundreds of years of deeply ingrained prejudice, and a well organised, well funded, efficient army of people who believe they are right. I hope that the Dark Lord doesn’t win, merlin knows I hope that more than ever now, but I do not want to leave you with false hope. These people are ruthless, determined, and they will not hesitate to kill. Unless you have people on your side that are willing to get their hands as dirty as the Death Eaters, you may not win. But I suppose we have to try.”

Reg still wasn’t sure how much he trusted Edgar Bones, but he had little other choice. “As small as possible, please. And if possible, can I request that the protection offered is purebloods? Not through prejudice, but it is easier for me to talk off if someone were to spot them hanging around me in the meantime. If it’s not possible, I understand…and I appreciate the offer of protection, whoever it is,” he said, a tinge of gratefulness in his tone. “I will keep you updated. May I leave? The Department of Mysteries will be expecting me to catch up on the time I've missed."

This was new territory for Edgar and the last thing he wanted to do was to make false promises and then watch it all blow up in his face. Regulus didn't deserve that and if he was going to trust him, and vice versa, it was best to be honest from the start.

"I don't know how this arrangement will look. All I can promise is that we will work our best to keep you protect and try to give you some life. It might mean hiding for some time, until this war is over, but after we have won, because we will win, you will have your life to do as you please." Good always prevailed over evil.

He nods his head. "It will be." This was a start and he was eager to put some balance back in the universe. "We will keep it to those that need to know. We will meet tomorrow and I will bring you will be watching over you. They will be in the shadows at all times." He could understand needing more time to say by to his family in his own way. "When you are ready to leave that life fully behind, then we will move to the next step."

Watching the other woman shrink away from him, Reg briefly felt vindicated before an irritating feeling that may have been called regret prickled at his skin. He might be grumpy, but he supposed that Greta didn't deserve to receive the brunt of that grumpiness. Stepping back towards her, Regulus tapped her shoulder gently. "Hey...I'm sorry. That was rude of me."

Greta grimaced at his tone, shrinking back. "I'm sorry. I'll be out of your hair in a minute." Quickly grabbing the things she needed she stepped back, making her way to the register.

Reg shot Caradoc a disapproving look, reaching for his wand with his free hand. Under his breath he muttered the few basic diagnostic spells he knew, checking him over for his own peace of mind. "You should make sure you're checked out properly, especially when you're messing with curses. I'm no healer, but I think you're okay," he said, setting his wand back down on the side before he leaned over to press a kiss to Caradoc's temple.

Leaving the ball in Caradoc's court was making Regulus feel a little sick as he waited for a response, but he knew it was necessary. If it was too much, he didn't want to burden Caradoc with knowledge that may put him in further danger. He didn't want to lose Caradoc, who had become so dear to him so quickly, but he would rather lose him than put him at unnecessary risk if the other man wasn't willing. As Caradoc confirmed that he was all in, Reg took his hand, tangling their fingers tightly. "Thank you," he whispered gratefully.

"I'm not really sure where to start. Over the last few months, but particularly the last few weeks, I've grown more and more uncomfortable with my position in the war. I've kept it glamoured whenever I've seen you, but....well, it speaks for itself," Regulus brought their joined hands to his sleeve, drawing it back to reveal his Dark Mark. "I've been marked since I was sixteen. It's what was expected of me, especially when Sirius left. They got me in front of the Dark Lord as soon as they could, to establish me as a proper pureblood. But I have to admit....I've never been much good at it, and recently I've got so much worse. I was questioning things, questioning everything I've grown up believing."

"I guess I've always ached to be good enough, but I was trying to be good enough for the wrong people."

Caradoc closed his eyes for a moment, comforted by Regulus’s hand running through his hair. “Umm, I checked my head?” He said, knowing that that probably wasn’t the answer that Regulus was hoping for. He shrugged. He’d taken a potion to dull the pain, so that was good enough for him. It wasn’t supposed to wear off for about another hour.

He got more serious as Regulus continued to talk. He couldn’t lie, the words “life-threatening risk” did little to keep him calm. Caradoc tried to remind himself that technically, every Order member and every Ministry mission did put his life in jeopardy, so it wasn’t that different . . . Right? But, Caradoc had seen what Death Eaters had done to wizards who disagreed with them. He’d seen what they’d done to muggle-borns and muggles.

But this was what war was — taking risks. And Caradoc trusted Regulus. He trusted that deep down, Regulus didn’t align with his family’s twisted beliefs. He trusted that Regulus wanted a different life, hopefully a life they could build together.

“I don’t want out,” he said resolutely. “And I’m good at keeping secrets. You can tell me.”

Scrunching his nose up with distaste at Sirius, Regulus fought the childish urge to find the nearest object that he could throw in his brother's direction. "Ooh, good one," he repeated, his tone mocking. "Oh, I've spent plenty of time listening to mother insulting others, and plenty of time on the receiving end of it too. Look at you, the family disappointment...and yet I still cannot live up to what you could have been," Regulus said bitterly. "I'm fairly certain my hearing will never quite be the same than it was before her tone got even shriller than when we were children. She still sends howlers in place of regular letters," he'd received one just that morning, asking him to drop round for tea after work. He crossed his arms, glancing at the closed door that they were waiting before. "Are the aurors always this bloody slow?" He muttered grumpily, not wanting to spend too much time in Sirius' company. Sirius had left him, and Regulus had grown up in the shadow of that loss. Years ago, he might have begged Sirius to love him, to take him with him and hide him away from the rest of their family. Now, he knew that was simply a childish delusion, no matter how much that hurt.

"Of course you did," Reg said with exasperation. He should've expected nothing less. "You should see your place on the tapestry...I'm surprised she didn't burn the whole bloody house down, never mind your face. What a gift you are to her," his gaze hit the floor and he scrunched his nose. Hearing that Sirius had thought about changing his name had hit him more than he thought it would, and it further demonstrated the distance between the two brothers. "Course you don't. I don't know why they even bothered calling you here."

"Ooh good one," Sirius remarked, rolling his eyes at Regulus's retort. "I at least thought you'd have gotten better at insults since I last saw you but apparently not," he sighed as if disappointed. "Why don't you ask mother dearest for help insulting others. She excels at it," he said with a grin. "Avoid her volume though, people tend to stop listening once you start screaming," he advised seriously. Truthfully, teasing and antagonising his brother was just a lot easier than letting his guard down. He didn't know what Regulus's opinion was of him anymore, but from the whispers and rumours he heard it was far from good. And it wasn't as if Regulus had ever bothered to talk to Sirius after he left; not even replying to the countless letters he had sent.

"I debated it," he sighed, shaking his head. "But why would I deny mother the pleasure of something to give out about for the rest of her life?" He shrugged. "I'm just thoughtful, I guess." Sirius would have loved to have been a Potter - and was constantly told he was for all intents and purposes - but he was never going to change his name, quite proud to be the literal Black Sheep of the family. He felt a twinge of hurt something when Regulus first said 'me' instead of 'us' but ignored it, telling himself it was just a slip of the tongue. "Whatever we're here for," he started, glancing back at Regulus casually, "you can take it. I don't want it." He didn't need any reminders of what his life used to be. He left it behind for a reason.

With the confessions he had made to Edgar, Regulus knew that this was it now. He had to entirely commit to this betrayal of all he had ever known, otherwise he was certain that he would quickly he detained and this encounter would be shown to the Wizengamot via pensieve. He wasn't in a position yet to truly trust Edgar, though he believed that Sirius knew and trusted this man based on what Edgar had said and that had to count for something. He could live a double life for a while, but there was only so long that he would be able to maintain that facade before it broke him in two.

"And what do you expect that will look like? Will I have to spend my life in hiding?" Andromeda and Sirius managed to live a public life from what he knew, but they had not actively betrayed the Death Eaters. They had never been marked, and they had certainly not shared highly confidential information to assist the aurors in capturing other Death Eaters. He was terrified as to what came next, yet he knew it was still the right decision.

Regulus' shoulders were full of tension as he expected Edgar to press for names that he did not want to give, and he slumped back against the chair with relief when Edgar didn't press. "Ensure you are there early. Muggles will be present, so the less casualties, the better. That's fine. I trust that my identify as a source will be confidential. The less people who know about this for now, the better. I am not ready to leave my family behind yet."

The confessions that were being made within his charmed office could have the young wizard locked up at Azkaban, constant state of his happiness being drained from him. The only saving grace for Regulus Black, was the notion of removing him from a side that only cared for darkness and distraction and reunite him with his family that would be grateful to have him, despite the demons he was trying to hide. They all had their demons that they fought, different from each other.

"I suppose there is only one way to find out." After his shift, he would make meet with the other Sirius brother and have a chat with him. There was no need to hide any truth, better prepare those when it all came to light.

"We will only do so where you feel safe, from there, we will pull you back and you will be done with that part of your life." The information provided did not need to be much, enough that their suspicions about some could come to public knowledge, making it a little harder for the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord's cause.

Edgar was a little disappointed that there would be no names, but the information that came afterwards, it was plenty enough. A flick of his wrist, a quill came out with some parchment, scribbling down what was being said through magic. "I will have my men ready for that." He would do a little more digging to see what would be happening that night. His head nods at the mention of Knockturn Alley, it was a given with the constant rumours of death eater activity. "I think that is enough. I will need a day to sort out protection for you." He had an idea of who, but it was about having a meeting with them first regarding their mission.

His recent run-ins with both Sirius and Andromeda had really started to reset Regulus' brain, and he'd hardly slept over the last few weeks as he was kept up by the choices he'd made. The inner conflict was tearing him apart, and he needed to speak to someone that he could trust to keep his secret. There were very few people on Earth that Regulus felt he could trust with the enormity of this, but he just knew that Andromeda was someone he could talk to without fear of judgment. Even with her owled response confirming a date and time, Regulus had half convinced himself that his cousin was not going to come and he would be left to struggle through his feelings alone. "I wasn't sure. I wouldn't have blamed you," he offered with a small shrug. "I didn't think I would reach out either, but...here we are."

He gestured towards the couch for her to settle herself as he crossed through to his kitchen, tapping the kettle with his wand. Returning with two strong cups of tea, Regulus set them onto the coffee table before taking a seat. "I've been doing a lot of thinking recently. A lot of soul searching...it's been hurting my head, to be honest. And I guess I just...wanted to talk to someone that would understand."

Andromeda had been surprised when she had received the owl from Regulus. There had been hope that perhaps she had got through to him when she had seen him, softened some of that resolve that seemed such a Black trait. Or that perhaps even the sight of his niece would be enough to warm him. The invitation had filled her with hope, always the optimist. Still she had to consider whether or not it was a good idea, to go to his home wasn't necessarily the smartest idea. But there was no refusing him, so she'd sent him an owl with a time and date that worked for her, glad when he'd agreed. She couldn't deny upon arrival that she was nervous, she didn't know what to expect from this meeting. But regardless, she wanted to be there for Regulus, would always be there for her family. "Of course I came.." She offered him a small smile as she stepped inside, her eyes taking in their surroundings cautiously as she followed him into the living room. "Uh..tea would be lovely actually." She stood, unsure in the middle of the room, taking it all in before she turned to look at him once more. "I didn't think you would reach out.." She corrected herself. "I mean I hoped but..." She shrugged helplessly.

Regulus had received Bellatrix's invitation to tea with a certain degree of dread. He cared for his cousin, he truly did, but it could not be denied that the eldest Black was intense. In his heart of hearts, Regulus knew she wanted the best for him...but the way in which she went about it exhausted him, and now as he grew ever more conflicted the last thing he needed was for his cousin to sit and pry, or to diminish his magical ability. Still, an invitation to Bellatrix's home was not one that could be ignored - and at the end of the day, Regulus desperately ached to make someone proud of him and he did care for his cousin, even if she mildly terrified him sometimes.

As soon as Regulus set foot on Lestrange soil, he took a moment to ensure that his mental walls of occlumency were firmly in place before he approached the parlour. He didn't trust Bellatrix not to quietly probe his mind as they shared tea, and he had too much to protect to risk her catching wind of his thoughts. He shot a tight smile back, crossing the room to take the offered seat.

"Afternoon, Bella," he reached for the cup of tea, letting the scolding heat of the cup centre him. "I avoid everyone, cousin. I wouldn't take it personally," he said, grateful for his historic grumpiness to fall back on. Whenever he visited Bella in her home, he was struck by how much she fit here as a proper pureblooded lady, and how meagre his small terraced house seemed in comparison. "Mm...your ability with the dark arts is second only to the Dark Lord himself, I know you could teach me better than Rabastan," he said, offering her some flattery in the hopes that it would soothe whatever was coming next. "It would be quite rude of me to abandon Rabastan's dutiful teaching when we have gotten this far...I was improving recently," he said, though he grimaced remembering the panic attack he'd experienced out on the field. Thank Merlin he was masked, and Rabastan hadn't seen the true panic he'd been experiencing. "Rabastan is a perfectly adequate tutor."

Starter for: Regulus Black @battle-scvrs Where: Bellatrix & Rodolphus's home (a smaller manor on the Lestrange Estate) When: lunchtime

It was hardly Bellatrix's style to be domesticated. Yet she'd invited her youngest cousin for tea, knowing it was his favourite beverage. She'd given him more than enough space by now, to the point where the physical distance was beginning to make her itch. She was an intensely emotional witch. Though calculating and meticulous when it mattered, she was driven by passion - and at present, her passion lay with ensuring that Regulus was well. She did care. It was a skewed, obsessive sort of adoration, but it was genuine nonetheless and she would stop at nothing to ensure his wellbeing.

Once he joined her in the parlour, she looked up over the top of a copy of the Daily Prophet, the headline boasting a particularly wonderful depiction of the Dark Mark floating over muggle London. Paused with momentarily shrewd study, her eyes glittered over his appearance. Then she neatly folded the paper and smiled, patting the seat next to her in invitation.

"Hello, cousin." Glancing sideways, she slid the paper onto the table and reached for the teapot, her length of raven hair obscuring her features before she looked back up with dark petulance. "I got bored of you avoiding me, so here we are." Handing him a cup of tea, she then poured one for herself and sat back. Crossing one leg over the other, she looked very much like 'lady of the manor'. It lasted all but a few seconds before her eyes narrowed. "Why must you spend so much time with Rabastan? You know I would teach you far more and take you further than he ever will." Was she jealous? Absolutely. Grateful? To her chagrin, also true. As much as she loathed to acknowledge, it was convenient that her brother-in-law had taken the boy under his wing. She'd been alarmed to hear about his little blip during a recently incident - freezing while being attacked, indeed. Rabastan had been diplomatic when updating her, but she was not an idiot. She saw that Rabastan was trying to keep secrets from her. It wouldn't do.

Irritated and overstimulated from the busy shopping street, Regulus wasn't trying to be a pain to anyone else and yet the other woman's attitude immediately got his back up. Drawing on every inch of bitterness his mother taught him, Regulus stared at Georgette with a cool stare. "You're not the only one in a time crunch, so you can wait your turn politely," he said, his gaze dipping to the mess of her hands. "You can't brew in that state, surely. You might be better going to Mungos for a pre-brewed potion. These ingredients are going to do nothing for you," he said haughtily, before reaching for a vial of Jewelweed.

While working with her hands and the splinters that lived in Georgette's fingers was something she lived for, there were times that she had to get some of the wood out of her skin. Normally she had a brew set up for such occasions but had realized, while bleeding, that the last drop wasn't going to do what was needed to repair her skin. Damn. She hated leaving the store but she couldn't work well if her hands were to the point they had found themselves -- she had gone a little too far without healing herself properly. It would be great to say it was the first time but when it came to her work that wasn't the case nor would it be the last.

She washed her hands with soap and water then gathered her things to run to the Apothecary, rushing between people, trying to get the errand done as quickly as possible. Unfortunately when she got into the store someone was standing just where she needed to be. If Georgette had it her way she would have just shoved him out of the way and not thought twice about it but there were too many people around and she didn't want to deal with attention from others. "I don't know who you think you are but some of us are in a bit of a time crunch so if you could --" she motioned for him to shove off while trying desperately not to shove him herself.

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.

"You should know by now Potter that I am nothing but ridiculous," Regulus shot back easily, his tone almost teasing. He held a lot of bitterness towards James Potter, and yet frustratingly, with James stood in front of him he seemed to lose the bitter tinge to his feelings. He had to remind himself that James had made his choice, and he had turned his back on Regulus and it was that reason that they had not properly spoken in years. Still, it was nice to be reminded of when times were better, when the weight of the world on his shoulders had briefly been shared with James Potter's shoulders.

Smirking at James' words, Reg quirked an eyebrow in his direction as he continued piling vials into his basket. "That's a terrible shame. I hear there's a man with quite a stockpile of Jewelweed...you may have to grovel for it. There's probably some interest going to be added to the price as well...supply and demand, I'm sure you understand," Regulus said smoothly. He couldn't stop a short laugh at James' words, and he shook his head. "Oh, I'm sure you're positively drowning in fan mail. How many autographs do you send out a week?"

"It's what?" Regulus said haughtily, tilting his head slightly in question. A smug smile of victory tugged at his lips as James disappeared, and he returned to browsing in peace. Said peace was quickly broken by the reappearance of Potter, and Regulus sighed deeply. "Oh...that would be a shame wouldn't it. How desperately do you need it?" Regulus asked, stepping a little closer to James as he narrowed his eyes before he turned back to the shelf. A wave of pettiness washed over him, and he began placing all of the vials of Jewelweed into his basket. "I'm brewing a lot of potions at the moment, you see," he said, with an air of nonchalance. "Maybe I'll buy up Diagon Alley's stock of pyjamas too, and then I'll start owling you a pair of pyjamas every day until you can hardly move for pyjamas."

It wasn't like he set out this morning to darken the shelves of the Apothecary with his mood, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to be in and out efficiently, and he'd been pushed and shoved and bothered. Any reasonable person would be grumpy about it, though he did quietly admit that it wasn't the woman's fault that she'd been shoved into his back. Perhaps this was what he should expect from society these days.

Handing the bottle over, Regulus wondered how bad one had to be at potions in order to need to buy bottled potions from the Apothecary instead of brewing them at home. "People generally have lost all sense of common courtesy, never mind when you add the busyness of the festive season in," Reg grumbled, turning his attention back to the shelves before Sophia spoke again. "Yes, gurdyroot, it will add some depth and make the whole thing a bit stronger. Crush it in a pestle and just add a pinch in and it should work a charm," he offered. "I find some peace in brewing potions. It's methodical, just like cooking."

Crowds didn't overly bothers Sophia, but it was the lack of care of consideration towards others that did bother her. Yes, she understood the streets and shop was busy, yet, she knew there was never any need for the pushing and shoving some of them had resulted too.

She sensed the annoyance from him, though chose to ignore it, after all she could hardly blame him, she'd feel pretty irritated too if someone had been shoved into them.

"Yes" she nodded, taking the bottle from him. "Thank you, and sorry again. This time of years seems to send people into a frenzy." She paused, thinking to herself that perhaps she was simply talking too much. She went to turn away, but he spoke again, he focus back onto the man.

"Gurdyroot" she repeated. "I hadn't heard of that, clearly" she chuckled. "Thanks, I'll grab some. Looking at how chaotic it is out there, I think I'll need all the extra help I can get. Potions never was my strong point."

Casting a disapproving glance in the direction of the man who'd disturbed him, Regulus' eyes remained trained on him until the man slunk away. He heard the man cursing under his breath, and Reg couldn't help the victorious smirk that spread on his lips. "I don't think I'm particularly well known for being nice...unless something has drastically changed since I last left the house," Reg shot back to Val, shrugging his shoulders. "Guess I'm tired of being bothered...I'm feeling a little grumpy today, and I was hoping Diagon Alley wouldn't be this busy."

Val had watched the interactions between Regulus and the party that wanted to look at the same shelves as him. The other seemed a bit insulted but did turn away after all. “Regulus Black, that wasn’t very nice of you, was it?” She said to him as she stood next to him, looking at the shelf next to the one he was watching. Stock of the shop had been running low and they weren’t going to make it with all ingredients until the next shipment of the Apothecary would be delivered, so Val had made her way over to the location for the emergency ingredients. “Is there a reason for the short reaction?”