Chapter Text
July, 1978
As someone who mastered being left with nothing but his own company over his time alone at Grimmauld Place, Regulus ought to have had a high loneliness endurance. Even so, he couldn't bear the silence of his home that summer. Grimmauld Place had become nothing more than a tomb.
Immediately following her graduation, the planning for Narcissa's wedding began, leaving her with little free time to visit or exchange letters with him. He soon found himself sorely lacking his closest companion.
Those at Grimmauld Place were even poorer company.
He never saw his father. The man remained in bed rest, only being visited by the healer who had become a regular part of Grimmauld Place's staffing. Regulus considered entering the man's office periodically. He considered standing at the foot of his father's bed and forcing the man to tell him what to do before his father's mind was too far gone to utter a word. There was no point in speaking his mind to his father, though. Nothing he said or did would have any meaning. Either way, the results would be the same. His father would die without ever caring about his second son for a moment.
His mother was a bit more present. She'd come to meals occasionally and ask him about his school year, his plans for his seventh year, or if the Dark Lord had reached out as of late. If he ever asked her anything in return, her eyes would gloss over as though her soul left her body before she'd offer some excuse about how poorly she was sleeping. She was not in the headspace to help him then, she would say. She had been saying the same thing for years.
Regulus never knew what to say to her. Begging for help had been unfruitful in past attempts, and he did not know how to comfort her. And it was comfort she needed. She loathed her husband and estranged son, but she was still mourning them.
His mother never spoke to him about Sirius, but Regulus quickly discovered she was keeping tabs on his brother. She had been sending and receiving owls during the first weeks of summer, despite no longer doing any work for the family. Regulus' curiosity had gotten the better of him one day, and he had slipped into her bedroom while she was bathing.
His mother's room was quite dishevelled. At least, by her standards. She had once been rigidly organized, but even that trait seemed to be slipping away from her then. There were several filing boxes in one corner that he had never seen before, and any family photographs that once sat on her nightstands had vanished. Her vanity had once had nothing more than a few brushes and scissors on its table top, but that day, it was covered in mounds of paper.
Regulus slipped over to the vanity set to see if he could find anything interesting in the parchments she had stored there. He shuffled through a few letters from Aunt Druella first. A brief scan told him his aunt had been wishing his mother well during her difficult time and speaking about how she coped with the loss of her daughter. A few notes down was a parchment far more damning. It seemed to be a copy of some sort, a photograph of a different parchment, one that was formatted in an unfamiliar way. Regulus realized with a start that he was reading a muggle document.
There was the title lease agreement running along the top of the page. Below, there was an address of a flat in downtown London, followed by information about payment and size. It only took a few seconds before Regulus understood why his mother had a copy of a muggle's lease agreement on her vanity table. The tenant was named Sirius Black.
Regulus put the document back on the pile, burying it below his aunt's letters. His mouth tasted bitter as he turned away, no longer interested in digging through his mother's letters. He suspected she had been thinking about his brother, but seeing confirmation only made him feel worse. She must have been truly desperate for an update on his brother to resort to collecting muggle documentation. He could not fathom how she had gotten her hands on that.
Regulus left her room.
The only living soul in the house who bothered to speak to him most days was Kreacher, the loyal house elf, always eager to serve. The elf must have overheard enough conversations to piece together what Regulus had been up to, as he even voiced his support for Regulus' decision one afternoon.
Regulus hadn't been bothering to hide his research into the war at Grimmauld Place anymore. His mother supported his involvement with the Death Eaters, and it was highly unlikely his father would ever rise from his bed again. Kreacher had come to clean the library one afternoon and found Regulus browsing through ministry motions related to the Death Eaters he had procured with Uncle Cygnus' assistance.
"Young master has joined the Death Eaters," Kreacher commented shrewdly, catching his attention.
Regulus peered up from the mess of parchments before him. The house elf’s expression didn't indicate his thoughts. He felt oddly uncomfortable as he wondered if the house elf was judging him. For some reason, the thought bothered him. He knew Kreacher was sworn to the House of Black and could never betray what he saw inside those walls to an outsider, even if he disapproved, but he had hoped to please the house elf. The future was bleak enough without losing the support of his last ally under that roof. "I have." He agreed rigidly.
Kreacher bobbled his head, his ears wiggling at the motion. "The young master has pride in his trueborn blood."
"Of course," Regulus sighed, feeling numb all over. "All pureblood families must defend our own."
"Yes, yes," The house elf expressed his enthusiasm. "The young master is right. He has done as his mother would have done. Oh, poor mistress. So heartbroken from that bad, foul boy. She must be proud of the young master."
Regulus forced aside the stinging feelings those words brought into his chest. He could not succumb to his emotions. He needed to develop a sheet of ice around his heart, to stop it from ever feeling again. "I hope so."
The house elf let him be after that.
Regulus had no choice but to bury himself in his work. He filled out every form the lawyer sent his way and exchanged letters back and forth with his Uncle and Aunt to organize everything his father needed to sign before he passed. When he ran out of household duties to manage, Regulus obsessively read the newspapers he received by owl every day.
The Dark Lord had not called upon him since he received his mark, which left him on the outskirts of the war. His isolation soon drove him toward actively looking for hints and updates. He began to scour every newspaper available for any news on what was happening outside the walls of Grimmauld Place.
There were some developments he managed to uncover. For one, he knew the Death Eaters had been named a terrorist organization after several muggles had been found dead with the death mark floating above them. Regulus assumed that meant his mere involvement in Lord Voldemort's ranks could then have him arrested by Aurors. Let alone if anyone had discovered what he had done at Diagon Alley the summer prior. The thought made him feel sick to his stomach again. He tried to ice his heart anew until he only felt numb.
He found a few other interesting stories implied between mixed reports in the papers. Many seemed to be under the impression that several magical creatures were serving the Dark Lord. Several accounts relayed that groups of werewolves, in particular a group heavily associated with someone named Fenrir Greyback, and several giant clans had come to the Dark Lord's aid at various times. Regulus could not help but wonder how the Dark Lord had persuaded such creatures to work for him. It was appalling to think about. He had always been taught that magical creatures were uncontrollable and dangerous, and should be ruled over by wizard kind. For the Dark Lord to align himself with the lower breeds seemed a bit contradictory to what he stood for. Regulus supposed the Dark Lord was willing to use whatever means he had at his disposal.
Narcissa offered some insight into the war when he visited her family for lunch one day. When they had a moment alone, she pulled him aside to speak to him where no one could hear. She told him the Dark Lord had been sending werewolves after followers who gave him reason to believe they were beginning to doubt him.
Regulus was dumbfounded by that revelation for a bit. He wondered who the Dark Lord had weaponized his werewolf followers against. Whether he officially was a Death Eater or not, he had been left on the sidelines. He had no idea what was taking place. He was starting to suspect the Dark Lord forced him into his ranks simply because he could, not because he ever truly cared to have Regulus involved.
"Well, Bellatrix would never betray him," Regulus commented softly. "You do not need to worry."
His cousin gave him a seething look that caused him to still. "You have devoted yourself to him as well, have you not?" She asked, a hint of accusation in her tone. "Or should we continue to dance around the topic and pretend I am oblivious to what goes on in my family?"
Regulus could not deny it when there was no way she'd believe that, but he could not bear to admit what he had done to her either.
Narcissa fixed with him a haunting look. "My sister and Lucius hiding their business from me was to be expected, but I foolishly thought you at least would have the courage to be forthcoming about your plans with me."
"It was hardly my plan," Regulus protested weakly. He could feel himself shrinking at her anger. He had never wanted to keep secrets from his cousin. He had just been too frightened of facing her disapproval. "I had little to no choice in the matter."
Narcissa turned her chin away from him to shield her face for a moment. He was certain his secrecy had wounded her deeply. They had always been transparent with one another. Their family had so many secrets, but between the two of them, secrets had never existed.
Regulus wanted to apologize or explain that he had been scared, but both options would surely make him appear weak and childish. "Do you disapprove?" Regulus asked instead.
Narcissa's chin jerked back. "What does it matter what I think? You have all made it apparent that my opinion has no bearing on your actions."
"That is not the least bit true." Regulus protested, frustrated.
His cousin shook her head, straightening up as she collected herself. She blinked a few times before she spoke again, the tremors in her voice long gone. "You must guard your words carefully anytime there are ears to hear them. Even in Slytherin or among the sacred twenty-eight. You must never do anything that can be perceived as second-guessing the Dark Lord." Her eyes were burning holes into him. "Do you understand, Regulus? You have aligned yourself with an unpredictable force. They do not share the loyalty that the sacred twenty-eight had for one another. This group, they turn on their own."
Regulus would not suppress the dread that swelled in his chest at her words. "I recognize that..."
"Regulus." Narcissa hissed, latching a hand onto his arm. Her grip was tight enough to hurt. "Promise me you will exercise caution. I would lose my mind if anything were to happen to you."
Regulus was started by her intensity. He inhaled sharply before he replied. "Yeah - I mean, yes, I will be careful."
They returned to lunch afterwards, though both had lost their appetite.
A few days later, Regulus received a letter from Preston Fawley. She did not send her usual owl, seal the letter with the Fawley coat of arms, or even sign her name. He knew it was from Fawley, though, because her recognized her writing and she signed her name as magnet, something he assumed was a reference to a gift they had exchanged a few years prior.
-
Dear Regulus,
Please destroy this letter after reading it, and do not breathe a word of it to anyone. My family is moving, and I am not allowed to disclose where our new home will be. I think I will be allowed to return to Hogwarts in September, but my parents have forbidden me from reaching out to you.
I am not sure what is happening, but something is. My parents seem to think your family cannot be trusted, as well as most of our old friends in the sacred twenty-eight. They said we will not be attending any more of the gatherings your family hosts.
I need to know something, and please, please, just tell me the truth. Is it true that you and your family are involved in the war? That seems to be what mum and dad are implying, but I cannot believe it. I need to know the truth. Please conceal your identity when you send a response.
Magnet
-
Regulus exhaled a long breath when he finished the letter. He was relieved that he had the foresight to lock himself in the library alone before he opened the message, so he could burn the letter without drawing any eyes.
He could only imagine what was happening with the Fawley family. Perhaps they had been threatened by the Dark Lord. He had never seen any of them in attendance at the Death Eater gatherings. Anything other than aggressive support was being treated as betrayal, he knew from experience. Perhaps they would have been threatened as well if he had not taken the mark. If he hadn't taken a life to ease the Dark Lord's mind that his family was involved.
Regulus could not bear to respond. He knew what Fawley would say if he confessed to her that he had the death mark hidden behind his sleeve. Sometimes, he swore he could feel it pulsing against his skin, as if he had allowed another's soul to be imprinted on him. Fawley would never look at him the same way again once she found out he had joined the Dark Lord's ranks. She never had the stomach for the harsh realities of the world. She would never understand why he did what he did. He wished he could see the world as black and white as Preston Fawley did. It must be nice, he mused, to be so unburdened by reality.
The letter left a bitter taste in his mouth. The war was taking a toll. It was not a good sign that the Fawleys no longer trusted those who had always been their closest allies because of the war. It was rare for the sacred twenty-eight to lose contact with one of their families those days, when the purpose of their unity was to keep their society alive and intact. They needed the other families in the sacred twenty-eight as much as the others needed them.
Regulus could not help but feel as though it was the Dark Lord's fault. The Fawleys had never turned their back on the sacred twenty-eight's worldviews. They kept their line pure. They were uninterested in joining the Death Eaters, but that could not be enough reason to have them threatened and ostracized. Regulus felt the same annoyance he felt when he had been forced to swear his family's support to the Dark Lord. He hated knowing they were doing anything because an outsider told them to. It was beneath the proud families of the sacred twenty-eight to have no choice but to do whatever the Dark Lord bid.
The sacred twenty-eight were being placed in an impossible position in that war. They were being torn apart between those more loyal to the Dark Lord than their community and those who did not wish to be held hostage by the Dark Lord.
Regulus somehow ended up at his mother's door, having no one else to turn to for advice. His mother answered after he knocked several times. She opened the door with a baffled expression on her face. She seemed ill-prepared to face the day, despite it being past noon already. Her hair was hanging loosely around her shoulders, and she was only dressed in a nightgown. "Regulus," she sputtered, blinking rapidly, "What is the meaning of this?"
"I apologize for the intrusion," Regulus backtracked, feeling bad to have startled her once he saw the sorry state she was in. "I was hoping to see if I could seek your counsel."
"Is this matter grave enough for you to be making this racket?" She chided him harshly.
Regulus sucked in on his breath. He did not think he made that much noise. His knocking had been solid at most, nothing compared to the pounding his brother used to do whenever he was trying to get their parents' attention. "I did not know when I would see you." He commented dryly. "And you told me I ought to seek my elders' counsel until I have aged and matured enough to make proper decisions for the family on my own."
His mother made an irritated noise in her throat. "Do not twist my words in an attempt to shame me." She warned, but she deflated after a moment. "I need a moment to dress."
Regulus was happy to wait for her. At least she was willing to converse. It would be the first time all summer that they had a real conversation.
His mother met up with him in their main drawing room twenty minutes later, dressed in proper attire and with her hair loosely tied up. She hardly looked as stern and tidy as she once had, but it was better than her remaining in her nightwear for the full day. She rested herself down in the armchair by the fireplace and gave him a stern look he was quite familiar with. "Well?" She asked.
Regulus explained the contents of the letter he had received without specifying who had sent it, along with a few of his concerns about how fractured the sacred twenty-eight had been lately. He wasn't sure if she had been in contact with any of her former allies regularly enough to realize the ongoing shifts.
His mother listened to his explanation without interruption, a severe expression on her face. She did not reply right away once he paused, waiting for her to provide feedback. She stared off into the distance for a long minute before her eyes refocused on him. "It is not a pleasant sign," She agreed. "I have not kept regular contact with the sacred twenty-eight, I must admit, but if they are as involved as you say they are with this Dark Lord...." Her eyebrows creased together. "Our alliances might become strained when being pulled in multiple directions. I hope our peers have not lost sight of our collective purpose."
Regulus was pleased she was echoing his thoughts. He had been going half mad, wondering why no one else seemed alarmed by the sudden shift in loyalty their once united organization had made. "Have you attended any sacred twenty-eight gatherings as of late?"
His mother refused to meet his eye for a beat, something that was wildly out of character for her. "Not as of late," She confessed.
Regulus sensed he was pressing on topics she did not wish to discuss, but he needed to know where they stood. "When did you go last?"
His mother pressed her lips together into a rigid line. She exhaled an irritated breath. "I have not attended a meeting since we bypassed your brother in our family's lineage."
Regulus could feel his throat tightening. "Is that wise?" He asked, his voice coarse.
His mother met him with a steely gaze. "I am meant to present myself and sip tea with those fools, after knowing my failure has been the gossip on every lip in that room?"
"Yes," Regulus agreed, staring at her wide-eyed. He had spent far too many years heeding Narcissa's advice to mind his tongue. "Rather than enable them to continue speaking ill of our family and ridiculing you behind your back. Gossip would have moved on, and you would have maintained your seat at the table."
His mother's eyes were ablaze with cold anger. "How dare you presume to scold me?" She hissed. "Our family has not been ousted from our seat. Go on and claim it then, if you insist this is of such great importance. No one will turn you aside."
"It is important," Regulus insisted, frustrated. He wished he could break through to the mother he had been raised by, the one who constantly told him that reputation was everything and they could never show a hint of weakness. The mother he never would have needed to beg for counsel. That mother would have sooner cursed him into another oblivion than allowed him to replace her at sacred twenty-eight meetings. That had been one of the most prestigious positions she had ever held for their family. "We have been completely disconnected from our allies. I have not heard a word about the war from any of my new colleagues, and we have most likely lost our standings among the sacred twenty-eight." He spoke rapidly so she could not interrupt him with another excuse about how ill she had been lately. "Mum, please. I need your help."
His words had a sobering effect on his mother, the anger painted into every line of her face weakening. She reached out after a beat, clasping her hands around his forearms. Her hands were trembling against his skin.
"I have been a waste this year," she agreed, her eyes going glassy again. "I do know how to quell these fits of hysteria."
"You are not hysterical," Regulus disagreed, his words barely more than a whisper. "I know you were wounded by everything falling apart, but not all is lost, and I need your help to maintain what is still here. I cannot do this on my own."
His mother nodded slowly, her eyelids resting heavily over his pupils. "Yes," she murmured. "We must collect our allies and ensure our defences have not been penetrated. There are benefits to be reaped from this Dark Lord and his movement, naturally, but the organization our forefathers built should not be so thoughtlessly discarded. We must ensure we are not leaving our society vulnerable."
Regulus nodded his head eagerly, almost daring to feel hope that his mother might truly be offering her assistance.
"Kreacher," she called sharply.
Without even a second of hesitation, the house elf appeared in the room with a loud cracking noise that caused Regulus to jump. "Mistress?" He offered eagerly. The elf always seemed pleased to serve her.
"Do bring me my quill and ink," His mother requested, sounding more like her usual self. "I have some letters to scribe."
"What will you say?" Regulus asked once the elf departed to fulfill the request.
"We shall have a meeting," his mother explained. "To refocus our collective objective in light of these distractions. I will not include sensitive information in writing, as a letter can easily be distributed to unwelcome eyes."
Regulus nodded mutely. He was more than happy to let her handle communications with the sacred twenty-eight. He had no idea how to even reach out to the organization, let alone lead a conversation. He supposed he could have asked Narcissa and her husband for assistance, but he suspected Narcissa was too busy planning her wedding to have time to help then.
"Thank you," He murmured as his mother began to write her first letter. He could not put into words how much her willingness to help had improved his mood. He was so terribly tired of being utterly alone in that house.
His mother did not stay up for long, but she remained in the drawing room until the letter was completed, copied, and properly distributed to their former companions. She excused herself to her quarters then, obviously exhausted by the strenuous excitement of the day.
They had several responses in the morning, the following day, but certainly fewer than the number of letters his mother had sent out. Regulus didn't open them, hoping his mother might exit her room that day and retrieve her postage, but some envelopes had indications of who had accepted her request. Regulus noted the coat of arms he knew belonged to the Lestranges on one. Another was signed by the head of the Tripe family. The Rosiers had used a seal with their family name lettered across the bottom. He believed he could see the Avery coat of arms through the envelope for another. The Malfoys always used a ridiculous design on their envelopes, which made their letter apparent. One, he figured out from the owl alone, as the Greengrass family were the only folk he knew who had an orange owl. Others had signatures with the names Travers, Burke, and Shafiq on them. There were a few letters he could not figure out, but even so, they had only gotten a handful of responses at best. Some might be delayed, but he could not imagine many more arriving. So much for the sacred twenty-eight. They seemed to have dwindled to the sacred ten or so.
His mother confirmed his fears at supper by telling him that the Carrow, Fawley, Rowle, Nott, Yaxley, and MacNair families had declined to respond despite their former close alliances. Regulus mused that some might have discarded their letter due to their unwillingness to involve themselves with anyone they associated with the war, such as the Fawleys, but some might have ignored them since their alliances were then to the Dark Lord first and foremost.
"What should we do?" Regulus asked his mother following her announcement.
His mother offered a dismissive sniff, her expression severe. "We shall discuss the next course of action with those who bother to show up."
Regulus supposed that was their only course of action. "Where will the meeting be held?"
"Here, of course." His mother replied dismissively. "You wished for us to reclaim our position, did you not? Then we must lead this meeting."
Regulus gaped at her. As much as he wished for the meeting to take place, he was not sure if his mother could be relied upon to host a gathering. He had been thrilled she even managed to exit her bedroom two days in a row, after all. He did not know what he would do if she refused to emerge from her quarters once their halls were filled to the brim with prestigious members of pureblood society.
"Are you certain you are up to that?" Regulus asked. He knew his question might earn him her ire, but he felt it necessary to ask.
His mother craned an eyebrow. "You requested this, Regulus. I recognize I have been unpredictable as of late, but I have committed myself to assisting you in hosting this event."
"I would be involved?" Regulus asked, tentatively. He had never been privy to a proper sacred twenty-eight meeting before.
His mother offered a sharp look that made him want to crawl into his skin. "Have you lost all sense? What else would you possibly do? Your father is a wheeze away from his grave. You are the head of this family now, Regulus. You must be involved and represent this family at every event from here on out."
"Yes, ma'am." He replied sheepishly.
He did not challenge her plans again, holding out hope that she would not wake up that morning feeling ill again.
They had a few unexpected visitors drop by the next day. Regulus was stunned when he heard a knock on their front door. They certainly rarely had visitors come by unannounced, especially ever since Grimmauld Place had been cloaked. Only family members had the password.
Kreacher answered the door before he could exit the drawing room he had been using as a study, unable to use his father's when it had been transformed into a hospital room.
He could hear a few voices echoing through the corridors as they greeted the house elf. His cousin had made herself at home by the time Regulus was close enough to have a visual of the foyer. Bellatrix was stripping off her damp shawl and hanging it on their coat rack. "Where is my cousin?" She asked.
Regulus sighed. There had only been a few options for who it might have been, but she was the least pleasant of the few.
She had not come alone. He could see Lucius Malfoy after a beat. He peered around the manor with a perplexed expression, evidently curious about why no one had greeted them.
Regulus straightened up, realizing he ought to address them. His mother had not left her quarters that morning, and even if she was feeling up to seeing guests, she would be far from presentable. His mother loathed it when guests dropped by unannounced. That never stopped Bellatrix from doing so.
He walked forward until both guests could see him.
"Ah, someone does live here," Bellatrix commented, snarky. "Sometimes it is hard to tell."
Regulus gifted her a dirty look. "Have you dropped by unannounced to offer something more than insults, Bellatrix?"
Malfoy responded before his cousin could think up a nasty retort. "We were hoping for an audience with you and your mother, if possible."
Bellatrix didn't comment on him speaking on her behalf, only adding a comment. "And there was no point in announcing our visit. Her little stunt the other day was the first indication we've had in years that she's capable of sending letters."
Regulus certainly did not wish to talk about the current state of his mother. "I doubt she has time for a meeting today." He said instead, not willing to listen to her badmouth his mother. "Perhaps you should try messaging her beforehand."
"A likely story," Bellatrix sassed, ever obnoxious. "I wager she is sulking around here somewhere."
Regulus was aghast by her rudeness, giving her an incredulous look. "Do not speak ill of my mother. Regardless of what you think you know-"
Bellatrix interrupted him. "Everyone knows exactly what has been occurring in this house, Regulus. Save your breath. Only speaking to you will suffice. Where can we speak?"
Regulus did not bother resisting her demand. He knew his cousin would not relent, and he was curious why the two of them decided to visit. He led them to a separate drawing room.
Bellatrix dropped herself down on a sofa once she wandered in, looking as though she was minutes away from falling asleep. There were heavy circles beneath her eyes. Regulus could only wonder what she had been up to lately that was tiring her.
"Well, now I brought Malfoy along for nothing," She sneered, "I reckoned we would need someone to distract your mother. I tried to recruit Narcissa first, but she's all fussed about her wedding and cannot spare a minute," She waved a dismissive hand and made a face that suggested she thought her sister was being ridiculous. "Rodolphus offered to accompany me, but Merlin, I could not imagine him formulating a single conversation topic Walburga would have any interest in."
Regulus glanced at Malfoy, who had paused to close the door to the drawing room, then back at his cousin. "You intended to speak alone?" He clarified.
Bellatrix tilted her head, a nasty smile on her lips. "We have some matters to discuss that do not concern her."
Regulus supposed that meant he was finally going to receive some updates on the war and his supposed involvement in it. "About time." He commented, unable to conceal his frustration. "Is this organization always going to include being left in the dark for six-month periods?"
"Goodness, you are impossible to please. First, you were moaning about being drawn into this, and now you are throwing a strop since you were not bothered often enough?" Bellatrix shook her head and turned away, peering around the room. "Where did that ancient house elf go? I daresay I require a drink if I must listen to this incessant whining."
"Information is always distributed intermittently," Malfoy explained in a chilled tone. He was suiting his usual stoic demeanour. "Especially when you are a new member."
"Even those truly involved get a fifth of the information, at most," Bellatrix snarled, being far less friendly about it than the other fellow. "Someone is getting too big for his britches, isn't he?"
Regulus scowled at her. "What did you come here to say?" He asked, not bothering to disguise his annoyance. "I do not wish to extend this meeting any longer than necessary."
Bellatrix has no issue changing the topic. She sat forward, her eyes narrowing. "Why did your mother send out that letter?"
Regulus was surprised. "What is it to you? She wishes to reconnect with her former allies."
Malfoy and Bellatrix exchanged a brief, skeptical look. Neither seemed convinced of that explanation.
Bellatrix gave him a withering look. "The timing and contents of the letter were far from innocent. It makes us look as though we are plotting against the Dark Lord."
Regulus was baffled. "For wishing to host a gathering with the sacred twenty-eight?"
"To ensure our objectives remain aligned?" Bellatrix repeated in a mocking tone. "That certainly implies this gathering has questionable intentions. She would hardly be the first one to voice similar concerns, and those who have previously done so have disgraced themselves by challenging the Dark Lord and cutting ties with the sacred twenty-eight."
Regulus could feel his heartbeat thrumming. He suspected she was speaking about the Fawleys. He hoped his friend and her family were safe from the reach of the Death Eaters. "There were no ill intentions behind it." He disagreed. "My mother has not attended meetings as of late and wishes to reconnect to see where everyone is at. The sacred twenty-eight have always functioned as a unit; is that no longer permitted now?"
"What does that mean?" Bellatrix snapped, gifting him a steely gaze.
Regulus sensed he was toeing the line Narcissa had warned him against crossing, and the conversation might swiftly grow volatile, but he suspected neither of the two before him would dare to repeat what he was saying. "The sacred twenty-eight have always collectively pondered current events and formed a united front. Has that changed lately? If not, I do not see why having a gathering to discuss where our objectives lie at the moment is contradicting the Dark Lord's movement."
Malfoy straightened his posture. "The sacred twenty-eight remains a separate organization from the war efforts," He agreed, his voice low. "However, in the current climate, we should be mindful of how our words can be twisted. Many members of the sacred twenty-eight are aligned with the Dark Lord and are sensitive to what they perceive to be speaking against his influence."
"You can have the lousy gathering, I couldn't care less," Bellatrix went on. "Just keep your foolish thoughts under wraps, would you? We cannot afford to appear weak and uncertain."
"Fine." Regulus agreed, exhausted to the bone. He did not feel like arguing with them anymore.
The first conversation ended there, to his relief. Bellatrix had Malfoy step out to ensure his mother did not make a surprise appearance before she moved on to the next conversation. Once they were alone in the drawing room, she leaned in closer. "The Dark Lord has another task for you." She told him plainly. "He understands you will be head boy in the upcoming year, and expects you to utilize your position to reverse the alterations that bastard professor has made to Slytherin."
Regulus paused as he processed that information. "I thought I already completed my task. Now I must complete another?"
Bellatrix scoffed, incredulously. "Naturally. You now serve the Dark Lord, do you not? He has a great deal of interest invested in Hogwarts, for whatever reason. You do not want to disappoint him by failing to deliver on this. He is gravely disappointed by the state of Hogwarts."
"Bellatrix," Regulus scoffed, flustered. "You must realize there is only so much head students can do to resist Professor Flinn's interventions. You saw for yourself how challenging it was."
His cousin straightened up. "I am aware of the challenges to amending Slytherin. I am working on eliminating one of the sources of those barriers. In the meantime, you will do everything you can to resist outside influence."
Regulus let his eyelids rest closed. He did not know how in the world they expected him to reverse Flinn's changes if seven generations of Slytherin head students had failed before him. After a beat, he opened his eyes, reflecting on what she said with more care. "How are you going to eliminate the barriers?"
Bellatrix gifted him a cold smile, one that meant nothing pleasant. "By rectifying what I failed to do the first time."
Regulus stared at her. "Do you mean... Flinn?"
"He knew I was coming," Bellatrix sighed, not directly replying to his question. "Or I might have caught him already. The coward has been hiding at Hogwarts since we broke into his flat."
"You broke into his home?"
Bellatrix laughed, the sound empty of any warmth. "It was too easy. Mudbloods are weak and pathetic in their understanding of magic. His shields were child’s play to detect and disable, but he was already gone before I arrived."
The room felt cold all of a sudden. Regulus could not tear his eyes from his cousin, a bit conflicted over how he felt about her going after the professor. He knew Bellatrix had experienced mistreatment at the professor's hands, and the man had been cruel to Regulus and his peers, but taking him captive or harming him still seemed unnecessary.
"Do you intend to kill him?" He wondered.
"Absolutely," Bellatrix replied without any hesitation.
Regulus dropped his gaze to his hands. He did not know how to respond to that.
"Don't be soft." Bellatrix taunted. "I always intended to do so. Flinn is our enemy, and he must be eliminated. Besides, you have done a similar deed yourself. I would think you would have grown a spine as a result."
Regulus' cheeks flushed at the reminder of the woman they accidentally killed in their explosion at Diagon Alley. He hadn't intended to kill her, though. It was different.
"Are you willing to kill others?" He asked instead.
"Certainly," Bellatrix agreed. "Whatever the Dark Lord deems necessary for victory."
Her response was predictable. She seemed willing to do anything her master commanded of her. It was unnerving. Regulus reflected on a comment the Dark Lord made when they met to discuss his task. "What if he commands you to kill Andromeda?" He asked, boldly. "Would you do it?"
His cousin's eyes widened briefly. His question had caught her off guard. She recovered swiftly, twisting her face into a sour expression. "He would not command me to do that."
Regulus scoffed. "Probably not, since he knows you would not do it."
Bellatrix started. "What does that mean?"
"He knows you will not do, or cannot do it," Regulus replied, plainly. "He brought the possibility up to toy with us, but he has not put his threats into motion, as he knows there is a threshold to our loyalty and that would exceed it."
Bellatrix inhaled sharply, rising to her feet. "Don't you dare suggest I would forsake his cause if he were to harm someone who betrayed our family. I have no love for my traitorous sister."
"Yes, you loathe her." Regulus agreed, monotone. "I have heard your declarations many times. But you do not actually loathe her. We know that, and the Dark Lord does too. He knows he cannot surpass the loyalty family has for one another, and he is clever enough not to test his luck. For now, at least."
Bellatrix was giving him a vicious glare. "You are accusing me of weakness?"
"No," Regulus shook his head a few times. "Loyalty to your family is the opposite of weakness. It might be the only trait of yours I admire."
His cousin was clenching her fists in frustration. "You are impossible." She hissed. "I do not know why I bother trying to reason with you. You only seem keen on challenging the Dark Lord and goading me on. I have heard enough from you today. Accept the task and let me be on my way."
Regulus did not see what he had said that was so antagonizing, but he supposed Andromeda was a sore topic for his cousin, even if the wound was nearly a decade old. He hadn't meant to upset her - he was only making an observation.
"Will you reverse the changes in Slytherin?" She demanded when he didn't reply swiftly enough. "I do not have all day."
"I will try," Regulus murmured his reluctant agreement. What choice did he have? He had to serve the Dark Lord to keep his family from being shunned and ostracized, or worse, to keep his involvement in the explosion from being revealed.
Bellatrix accepted that as a conclusion to their meeting. She stomped out of the drawing room in an undignified manner, throwing the door open. "Malfoy," she snapped as she veered off to one side. "We are leaving."
Malfoy appeared in the entrance way briefly to nod a quick goodbye. He followed after Bellatrix afterward, a hint of tension clear on his face. He must have sensed her poor mood.
Regulus remained in his chair as he listened to them ready themselves in the entrance foyer and exit out the front door. And then the manor was silent again.