|
||||||||
|
||||||||
Author: Wings Story: Heart of Gold Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-DH Status: WIP Reviews: 3 Words: 121,987
The wizarding world was in a panic the morning of sixth November. Ministry members were dispatched to towns and cities all over the English countryside and in London to modify memories and concoct explanations for why houses were burned and people dead. Lists of casualties and missing persons were distributed throughout Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, and the Ministry of Magic. The Daily Prophet ran several articles about the events, speculating about causes and the possibility that He Who Must Not Be Named was really behind the activities. The memory of the night pervaded everywhere Regulus went. Alec arrived late to work because he had moved Anna and their children to a safe location with his parents. Lily was busy tallying the absent and sending owls to their families and St. Mungo’s, seeking answers. Jacks and Thomas holed themselves up inside a briefing room that was meant to be soundproof, but every so often Regulus heard loud arguing from behind the doors. He kept quiet at his desk, talking to no one and wondering if anyone even realised he was there. The young Death Eaters had debated well into the night about whether or not to inform the Baddocks of Nicolai’s demise. Nicolai had not told his parents anything about his Death Eater membership, and Severus argued that there was really no reason to reveal that information after the fact. Nicolai would be counted among the missing and no one would ever know what had transpired. Telling them would raise too many questions, questions that might leak into the public and reach Lily Potter, who would surely connect the dots and conceivably find reason to trace Regulus to the incident. It seemed as though time had temporarily stopped, yet was still rushing forward. Regulus knew that there was much he had to do to prepare for the next meeting of the spell defence team, yet he could not drown out the rest of the world long enough to allow himself to think. No one seemed to be performing their respective jobs, yet everyone seemed to be busy. He sat at his desk, tapping an ink well with his quill and pondering whether or not to make another cup of tea. Alec’s twentieth audible sigh convinced Regulus that this was the best course of action. He knew that the added caffeine would make him more on edge, but the boredom of inactivity was almost too much to bear. He was sure that he would go mad if he sat long enough. Regulus stretched his back briefly before he stood and glanced over at Alec. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asked. Alec started and shook his head. “Uh, no, thanks Regulus. I’m fine. I’m working on something really…important.” “Right,” Regulus said. “I understand. I won’t disturb you.” Alec nodded and turned back to his empty desk, seemingly unaware that it was impossible to be busy with nothing to occupy one’s time. The walk to the lounge took Regulus past Lily’s desk. He could hear her muttering under her breath as he approached and his heart began to beat faster as he thought about their midnight showdown. The look on her face as he uttered the fateful, definitive words of the Killing Curse was etched in his mind’s eye. He saw the fear mixed with horror, the inexplicable shock as he exercised the ultimate power of life and death, heard the crack as Nicolai’s head hit the rough stone walkway. Nicolai falling, cracking, going limp… “All right, there, Regulus?” Lily inquired. Regulus started; he had stopped walking, lost in his thoughts. It was the first thing she had said to him in two weeks, other than when she had spoken to the faceless Death Eater. He looked at her and tried to think of an appropriate response as he placed a hand absently on her desk. Her concerned face struck a chord in his chest. “Yes, thank you,” he replied. “I’m afraid I was somewhat shaken by last night.” Cordiality and absence of detail seemed to be the best course. Lily shifted her weight in the chair and folded her arms. He took his hand off the desk and put it in a trouser pocket, willing her to meet his eyes instead of gazing at the intricate pattern in the carpet. “That’s an understatement,” she groused. “I feel like I’m going to faint from exhaustion, both mental and physical.” Lily still refused to meet his gaze. Regulus questioned further, “Were you up late waiting for James to get back? I heard they dispatched Aurors and Auror trainees to the disturbances.” Lily looked up and Regulus thought he saw a look of alarm pass through her features, but she seemed composed again as quickly as it had come. “Er, yes, I was waiting for him to get back,” she stammered. “It’s not easy being out of the action. I’m used to being front and centre.” And you’re quite skilled at it, too, Regulus noted to himself, pleased that she was actually looking at him now. He searched her eyes and continued, “I know what you mean; people tended to focus on Sirius more than me growing up. I’ve always wanted to be in the middle of something that had purpose and that would affect a wide range of people. “You want to make a name for yourself,” Lily stated. Regulus nodded. “Of course. Don’t you?” “I suppose, though it’s not at the top of my list of life goals,” she said. “But I can see why that’s something you would want for yourself, and why you would try to push yourself to the top at the expense of others.” Regulus opened his mouth to respond, but said nothing. Lily looked down again and folded her arms. “Regulus, …” “Don’t, Lily. Just don’t,” Regulus cut in. “Look, I know I was a git, all right? I should have included both James and you in the meeting about the research, but I was never conspiring against you. I know that my brother and your husband don’t have a high opinion of me, but that doesn’t mean that it’s warranted.” She shook her head. “I never wanted this to turn into situation that pitted you against them. I obviously need to side with my husband; I love James, and if he is against me doing something and presents good reason to back it up, well then, I have to trust him.” “I understand that,” Regulus assured her, running a hand through his hair. “I realize that we really can’t be close mates, but I feel like I need to apologise to you because, barring our personal history, this tension between us affects our ability to work with one another.” “You’ve chosen an awfully odd time to bring this up,” Lily noted, a hint of her usual light-hearted tone in her voice. Regulus shrugged. “I botched things up, I know that. I guess last night just made me think about things that needed to be put right.” She nodded and studied him for a moment. “I accept your apology.” “Thank you. I was just going to the lounge for some tea, would you like a cup?” he asked. “Yes, please,” Lily replied and stood to walk with him. “Perhaps later this week we can compare notes again, as long as you promise to let me in on your presentation this time.” “Sure, we can do that,” Regulus said. They bantered in their usual style all the way to the lounge and Regulus was just pouring the tea for Lily when she grabbed her belly. Her face had turned sallow. “Lily? Is everything all right?” Regulus asked, placing the pot of tea on a table and stepping closer. “I – I think so,” she stammered, and then grabbed the table. “Oh! I can hardly stand!” Regulus lunged toward her and his hands caught under her arms. He pulled out a chair with his foot and eased her into it slowly. “What’s wrong?” he asked in a panic. Lily shook her head slowly as her whole body began to shake. “I don’t know. I’ve been feeling dizzy and nauseous lately, especially in the morning. I haven’t the slightest idea what’s wrong. It’ll pass in a few moments, I’m sure. The tea should help.” Regulus handed her the cup. He watched her as she sipped it slowly and colour flooded her cheeks again. “I’m so sorry,” she said after a few minutes. “I’m holding you up from whatever you were doing. I’m really fine, I am.” “It’s not a problem,” he assured her. “I want to make sure that you’re going to be all right. I mean, that’s something that I actually have control over.” She sipped the tea, and then cleared her throat. “Yes, but this may be a situation where your help might not be readily received by others.” James and Sirius…he thought bitterly. “I understand. I’ll let you get back to your work, but please take care of yourself,” he insisted. Lily nodded. “I will. Don’t worry about me; there are plenty of other people doing that already. I’m really a very capable person.” “Oh, believe me, I know you’re capable,” Regulus agreed. “But that doesn’t mean that you can do everything on your own.” Lily laughed, pure, sweet, and unabashed. He smiled inwardly at his success. “Believe me,” she replied as she stood. “I know that I can’t do it all, but I can try. Thank you for the tea. I had better get back to work.” He nodded and stared down at the steam rising from his cup as she left; it was nice to have a sense of normalcy in an otherwise anomalous work day. He was no closer to puzzling out any answers, but he felt warm inside, and that was what mattered. Unfortunately, the warmth did not last as long as he wished. The five o’clock hour struck and he was swept into the chill of the early November air. He mentally berated himself for not thinking of the cold and choosing to take the Floo instead, but it could not be helped. The wind whipped his hair and seeped under the neck of his cape, chilling his insides. He had been waiting all day for a summons from the Dark Lord. Regulus had been promised greater trust if he carried out his part of the mission with precision. Lord Voldemort seemed to know so much; did he know what had really happened between Regulus, Nicolai, Lily, and James? Only Lily should be able to relay that information to anyone, but the Dark Lord always knew exactly what to say to his followers. He’s a Legilimens, Regulus told himself to calm his nerves. He’ll only know what happened if you let him. Close yourself and mind your thoughts. But it was easier said than done. Severus, Barty, and Lucius had been too accepting of his explanation; none of them had questioned it. Would the Dark Lord be as understanding? Would he know that Regulus had chosen to kill a loyal follower rather than an enemy? He had reached his flat and begun to heat some beef stew when it happened – the tattoo burned hot in his flesh. He dropped the spoon he had been using into the pot and stepped back from the stove. Sense prevailed and he turned off the gas and put the pot aside before gathering his outerwear again and Apparating to the location in his mind’s eye, thankfully indoors. “Welcome, my young servant. Thank you for coming so quickly. We have much to discuss,” the Dark Lord said as soon as Regulus was visible. He looked around and noted with some amusement that the room actually seemed inviting. A low fire was burning down to embers in a small fireplace, but the room was small so the heat still pervaded the air. The Dark Lord sat at a small wooden table near the fire, and extra light was provided by a small chandelier above the table. The wooden floor was covered with a dark area rug and the stone walls had no decoration, but they did not require any. A second chair sat empty opposite the Dark Lord, and Regulus walked toward it with some hesitation until the Dark Lord motioned for him to sit. “I assume that you have heard about Nicolai,” Regulus began. The Dark Lord nodded his acknowledgment. “A pity, a real pity. Baddock showed much promise and I had hoped to be able to use him longer. His father is a member of the Wizengamot, and formerly a Slytherin. Nicolai was working on drawing him over to our cause. But sacrifices are sacrifices.” “I did what I thought was necessary,” Regulus continued. “I had hoped that it would not come to that, but to protect our integrity and ensure success…” “I commend you, only I am uncertain as to how the Potters were able to escape. As you were the only follower present at that moment, the task falls to you to convince me that you acted in my best interest,” the Dark Lord insisted. Regulus shifted as the Dark Lord seemed to bore a hole in his head with his squinted, iced eyes. “I admit, my Lord, I was caught off guard,” Regulus said, willing his voice to stay even and trying to keep his mind focused on a different course of events. “Nicolai and I had dashed into an alley when we heard footsteps, straining to hear those who were approaching. He lunged out and engaged them before I had a chance to get a bearing on the situation.” “So he put himself in harm’s way?” Regulus nodded, bolstered by this clarification. “Exactly. The Mudblood and Blood Traitor knew that someone else lingered in the shadows, so after Nicolai went down there was little I could do. I was on the defence.” “Could you not have caught them by surprise in the first place, rather than hiding?” the Dark Lord questioned. “I – I suppose we could have, but we did not know how many of them there were, or who it was exactly when we first heard the footsteps,” Regulus explained. “I thought we could do more for the situation from the shadows than in the light. Had Nicolai not exposed us to danger, I think we could have.” The Dark Lord nodded his acceptance of the explanation. “So, I was off guard. They had stunned Nicolai and were threatening me as well. I was also concerned that Lily would recognise my voice if I spent too much time engaging them. I was left with little choice but to do what I did. Potter would have overpowered me if I had exposed myself completely.” “Fool! Do not underestimate the power within you,” the Dark Lord cried. Regulus cringed. “My Lord, please accept my apologies. It is not easy to remember the power that I can wield.” The Dark Lord stood and leaned toward Regulus, speaking in a low voice, “It is not becoming of my servants to fail. This is the second time that the Blood Traitor and his little Mudblood pup have foiled my plans.” Regulus’ heart was racing. How could the situation have gotten so out of hand? And he was alone. It did not appear that there would be anyone to hear should the Dark Lord decide to torture him for his miscalculations. It was true that Regulus was to blame for the Potters’ escape. Would the Dark Lord guess that Regulus had wanted to protect Lily from harm? “Always remember that you are expendable. Useful, certainly, but expendable.” Severus’ advice from the summer made his palms go sweaty. How could he have thought that his explanations would be accepted without question? The Dark Lord was staring at him, waiting for his response. His mind raced with different ways that he could kneel, grovel, beg for his life… “Bowing before his feet is useless to him unless you have something to offer,” Severus’ voice in his mind said again. “Today you can offer him something that no one else can, but I can’t guarantee you tomorrow.” What can I offer? “My Lord, you’re right. This is my fault. I should not have doubted the ultimate power within me,” Regulus confessed, looking him straight in the eye. “But I did what I thought I had to do with the information that I had. I assure you that it will not happen again, and I hope that you’ll consider what I did right in this situation.” The Dark Lord leaned forward as he listened. “Primarily, when it came down to it, I made the right decision. I used the power that I had and prevented the traitors from taking Baddock. Our secrets remain safe. Also, I did not compromise my identity and can still be used to relay information about Lily Potter and her husband. In fact, she and I had a good discussion this morning. We’re on good terms. You need someone able to keep an eye on her, and I’m in the best position to do that. There is a good chance that I would have been recognised had I spoken out too much,” Regulus finished. “This is true,” the Dark Lord said as he leaned back in his chair again. “But this would be irrelevant if you had killed them.” “I believed keeping them alive was in the best interest of our mission,” Regulus retorted. “You need the information that they have access to. Killing them would only have made my escape easier. As it is, I’ve kept them alive, kept our secrets safe, and maintained my identity. All we’ve lost is Baddock, and he took an oath of allegiance. He knew what he was getting himself into. Further, I would argue that the information we can get from Lily and James Potter is more valuable than what we would have gained from Baddock’s father. They have an in with Dumbledore.” Regulus thought about leaning back in his chair with this final statement, but then reconsidered, choosing instead to maintain the intensity of the moment. Neither man was moving, only staring at one another as the remaining embers cracked and burned down to ash. “Impressive,” the Dark Lord muttered. “It’s not often that a Death Eater is able to convince me that what could have been a grievous error was really to my benefit.” “Thank you,” Regulus replied. “I act only to serve you.” The Dark Lord finally broke the tension and leaned back in his chair again. “I can see that you are really starting to internalise our mission, and I feel more confident that I can give you a larger assignment now,” he said. “What kind of assignment?” Regulus asked. The Dark Lord warned, “Remember that this is not something you are permitted to discuss with the other Death Eaters. When I give you a mission, I expect you to work alone. Is that quite clear?” Regulus nodded. “Very well. This assignment means much more than any other because it relates directly to me. I have been doing some personal research, but I am at an impasse. I seek the results of some research conducted by a group of wizards about a century ago. I have traced them to Ireland, but there is far too much going on. I need you to go to Ireland and find the hidden research,” the Dark Lord explained. “Go to Ireland?” “Yes. To County Clare.” Regulus felt a knot growing in his stomach. “That’s where Liam is from.” The Dark Lord nodded. “I know. That’s why I’m sending you.” “But, we had a falling out. He’s not going to want to work with me,” Regulus stammered. “Consider this a test of your power of persuasion,” the Dark Lord replied. “He may or may not have something to do with the research, but you’re sure to have greater success if you can convince him to help you.” Regulus shook his head. “Liam doesn’t know anything about magic in Clare. He’s never met any witches or wizards, and his family has no magical history. With all due respect, I don’t think he’s of any use to you.” “Right, regardless, I expect you to go to Ireland and complete this research. My lead is a man, Donnelly, who moved to Clare eighty years ago,” the Dark Lord finished. “I expect results. Do not fail me in this.” “Don’t I even get to know what the research is about?” Regulus asked. “And what about my job? What am I to tell the Ministry?” The Dark Lord rattled off the answers, “It is almost time for the Christmas holidays. You will ask for the entire month of December off and go to Ireland during that time. Explain that you have some sort of family emergency that you need to attend to. If you need more time, you can rely on that excuse. I will give you more information in the coming weeks.” The assignment did not seem like a mission at all, only indulging the Dark Lord’s erratic whims. What kind of research could he be doing, and how could this surely dead wizard Donnelly help? It felt like a step back, like he was being asked to do the dirty work for a mission that had no value and that would make little difference in the world. His heart sank as he thought about the valuable time he would miss at work when he could be working with Jacks or charming Lily for more information. What was the Dark Lord thinking? “Do you doubt me, Regulus?” the Dark Lord’s voice drew him back to the moment. “Doubt? Of course not,” Regulus replied. “My life is to serve you, and so to do whatever you would have me do.” “But you thought that you would be able to do something more daring, did you not?” Regulus sighed. “Yes, that was what I had hoped for.” “You have to trust me,” the Dark Lord said. “You want glory, and whether you believe it or not, this assignment will help you get it. It’s important to me, not just another reconnaissance mission or brute torture. It also plays to your strengths. Why would I ask you to do something for me that I did not think you were capable of? I am only trying to help you realize your potential, and this is an assignment that allows you to work with me directly.” “So you didn’t just choose me because of Liam?” Regulus asked hesitantly. The Dark Lord shook his head. “Oh, no, I chose you specifically.” There was nothing for it. He was committed to serving the Dark Lord, and today, this was what serving the Dark Lord meant. “I will do my best, my Lord, count on it,” Regulus said. ~~~~~~ The November days dragged on, reacquainting Liam with autumn on the sea. He had not spent a fall in Doolin since he was ten years old. He had forgotten how the smell of the salty air from the ocean mixed with the scent of the falling leaves, and how the swirling reds, browns, yellows, and oranges mixed with the early morning and late evening fog. He had forgotten the stillness of the first snow as the flakes hit the lapping waves on the rocks, forgotten how the lighthouses shone on as the days grew shorter, providing a constant source of light, steady through the passage of time. The pinpricks of light continued to blink on the point, cutting through the haze that seemed to cover every inch of his existence, yet remained tantalisingly distant. Their peace seemed to elude him, despite his efforts. Every time he thought he had made a breakthrough, he found himself back at the beginning. Leaving school had only brought a world of challenges that had culminated in bringing him home to Ireland. Coming home had brought him back to his boyhood town and his father’s boats. Attempting to move on had only brought the elusive man with the lantern. Each passing calendar day without success made Liam wonder if he had only imagined the man in the fog. It had been a late night; could it have really been a dream? But Aislinn’s experiences could not be ignored. Liam visited her at the grammar school and spent some time with the children she suspected were able to do magic. He did not have the skills to perform the proper tests on their abilities, but he saw enough to corroborate her suspicions. There was surely something different about the children in question, and magic was a likely suspect, yet every time he got close to solving the puzzle with them, they seemed to retreat back into their normal childlike persona. None of the children ever overtly acted like a fledgling witch or wizard, and he did not dare try to goad them into using their abilities. Some things were better left to time. Silas assigned Liam to oversee winter maintenance for some of the older boats and recommend the proper repairs. Most of them were minor, but several of the boats had to be taken to a local shipyard. Liam waited in Ballyvaughan until well after dark one mid-November evening to finish the paperwork with the shipyard agent, putting off the hour-long drive home. While the quiet of the empty warehouse was normally inviting after the bustle of a long day, on this particular night Liam felt a sense of foreboding. He could not seem to shake his head clear of his midnight encounter from a month earlier. He passed the time reviewing shipping charts and repairing frayed lines, laughing at himself as he realized how far he had come in just three months. Liam was well on his way to becoming a professional seaman just like his father and brother. Scuffling on the front walk distracted him from his thoughts. His eyes darted toward the door and a firm knock confirmed his suspicions; the shipyard agent had arrived. Liam gathered the papers into a pile and tossed the stray lines toward an open box on the office floor. He wiped some grease off of his hands with a towel and then walked opposite the warehouse to the outer wall to let the agent inside. “Good evening, Mr. Devon, is it? Come on in,” Liam said as he opened the door. The man bustled inside the room, bowed against the elements. Liam closed the door quickly and shivered at a gust of wind and snow while watching out of the corner of his eye as the man removed his cap and gloves. The man placed them on a side table and answered, “Yes, Christopher Devon. You’re Michael’s son? The little one?” He had a deep voice that Liam thought he had heard somewhere else. “Right, ‘the little one,’” Liam affirmed with a laugh. “I don’t suppose I’m really little anymore though.” Devon turned around and Liam almost gasped. It was him – the man from his midnight encounter. He had the same thinning grey hair, silver beard, and weathered face. Rather than a lantern, the large hands were clutching a small notebook. He was wearing the brown overcoat and Liam noted that one of the sleeves was stained with something that looked like oil, possibly from the lantern. Christopher Devon had been right under Liam’s nose the whole time. “Something wrong?” Devon asked. He was staring back at Liam, who noticed that he had stopped talking quite abruptly. Liam stammered, “Uh, no, nothing at all. I’m sorry. You said you know my father?” “Well of course, he’s a major patron of the yard,” Devon replied. “I see Silas more often nowadays, but your family has been doing business with us for years. That shouldn’t surprise you.” “Naturally, I apologise. You look like someone I once knew,” Liam said. “I didn’t mean to be rude.” “Nothing to worry about. Let’s get this done, shall we?” Devon suggested, flourishing the papers. Liam nodded and led him back to the office. “Right, this way. Silas and some of the crews took two of the boats to the yard a few days ago. He said you were going to bring the bills and contracts?” Devon nodded. “Yes, just routine procedures. I’ve marked all the places you need to sign.” He held out the papers and Liam glanced over them before grabbing a pen. “So, do you have a lot of other boats in for repairs?” Devon leaned against the doorframe. “Oh, the usual. We generally expect the same numbers from the same people. Sometimes we get more from customers who don’t keep an eye out on their boats, but there aren’t too many of those on a regular basis. It’s a good thing, too, because those always take a lot longer to work with.” Liam nodded without looking up and continued to scan the papers. “Do you make it out to Doolin ever, just out of curiosity? Or do you live here in Ballyvaughan?” He held his breath. “Doolin? Oh sure, my daughter lives down there. I visit her quite often. It’s a lovely town, right by the cliffs and all.” Liam straightened and nodded. “It is. I missed it every minute I was away when I was at school. Does your daughter have children?” “Not yet, she isn’t married,” Devon replied. “That’s why I go to visit her, just to make sure that she’s safe. You never know who you might come across unexpectedly.” Liam shivered involuntarily. Did Devon remember anything? Was that statement tailored for a response? It was hard to know how to question the man without appearing over-eager, yet Liam needed answers. Devon had understood about his wand and he had known about other magical folk. Could his family be magical? Was his daughter a witch? Liam coughed and said, “Quite true. I try not to have late nights because the fog can roll in easily over the water. It’s awfully hard to see clearly when that happens.” “Mmm, yes, I’d say so,” Devon agreed. “The best you can do is to be alert and ready for any potential confrontation. About finished with those papers?” “Erm, yeah, just about,” Liam replied. “Are you going to be down in Doolin again anytime soon?” Devon shrugged. “Perhaps, we’ll see. I went down for the music festival last month, but the work has been picking up here in Ballyvaughan so I may not be down as much.” Liam began to breathe a bit easier. Devon did not seem to remember anything from what had happened before. Liam could let him leave and there would never be a problem. But did he want to let his only current link to the magical world just walk away? Would it not be better to question Devon and find out what he knew? He had hinted at larger squabbles and hidden motives, at a secret much larger than anything Liam had suspected. Was it worth it to get involved in such things again, or would Liam be better off ignoring what had happened and going on with his life? “All done then?” Liam nodded. “Yes, everything seems to be in order. Thank you for delaying the end of your workday to finish these papers up. Silas really wanted the project to be done with.” “Not a problem. Safe driving back home,” Devon said as he gathered the papers into a protective folder and pocketed them in his jacket. “I’ll just show myself out.” “Have a good night, sir,” Liam replied. He watched as Devon bundled up again and left. No sooner was Devon out the door that Liam realised his blunder: he had to be able to find Devon again if he decided that he wanted to know more. He leapt toward his hanging coat and gloves and dressed as he hustled out the door. Liam looked left and right, but he did not see Devon immediately. The warehouse was close to the Merric family docks, but the shipyard was down the coast. Devon had likely driven to the warehouse. Liam looked about silently, keeping his hands in his pockets for warmth. He turned at the sound of a door, and saw Devon walk out of a convenience store. Liam slunk into the shadows at the side of the warehouse and saw Devon walk down the seaside lane in the opposite direction. He followed him carefully, sticking to the walls, thankful for the setting sun. Devon looked back once, but Liam did not think he had been seen. The pair followed the coastline for a half mile before Devon turned down a side street. Liam hesitated; had Devon turned down the street on purpose? Was he planning to corner Liam and question him to find out why he was being followed? Liam heard the sound of a car engine turning over and exhaled heavily. Of course Devon hadn’t seen him. He would have said something. Headlights flickered on and illuminated the pavement inches away from Liam’s feet. He stepped backward and clung to the buildings once again. The car pulled up to the intersection of the roads and turned right, away from Liam. Liam peered down the alleyway but saw nothing. Devon had gone, but he was not lost forever. Liam raced back to the warehouse and hurried through the process of closing down for the night. He knew that Aislinn would be thrilled at the news. ~~~~~~ It took a while for Regulus to feel comfortable again. Though he sincerely believed in the Death Eaters’ cause, there was something about doing work directly for the Dark Lord that made him uneasy. If no one else was in on the secret, what would happen if he failed? There would be no one else on whom to place the blame. It had been easy enough passing off Nicolai’s death as a necessity. Not even the Dark Lord seemed to have discovered that he had let the Potters go at the expense of a loyal follower. He wondered how long he would be able to keep up the charade. November drudged on and he dreaded the conversation he had to have with Jacks in the near future. How would he be able to explain a month-long absence? Work with the spell team had been temporarily halted as the Auror division needed to devote several members exclusively to the Guy Fawkes Day attacks. Regulus had been reduced to busy work once again, and he was not sure how much of it he could take. He wanted to know what his mission was about. The more he thought about the night in Stratford-Upon-Avon, the more he craved action. Regulus found that, far from dreading another confrontation with the Potters, he looked forward to it. He relished the memory of wielding ultimate power standing over Lily, James, and Nicolai and being in complete control over their individual and collective fates. So what if his actions had hurt them in ways unimaginable? His service was to the Dark Lord, and none other. He realised, with satisfaction, that he was becoming more and more devoted to this man, this legend, the one who would right all the wrongs of the wizarding world. Yet he was still afraid. But perhaps it was that fear that would make him the best. It was men like Lucius, Barty, and Nicolai that got into trouble, men who did not understand their place. Regulus knew his place, right under the Dark Lord. He had earned this right and it had been granted to him when the Dark Lord asked him to serve exclusively on the important assignment. He was certain that Severus had not been given such an assignment. Regulus had the right skills and the right connections. He had not burned as many bridges as Severus had. But there was one bridge that he would have to rebuild. Regulus’ stomach turned when he thought about the location of his mission. Why did it have to be County Clare? Couldn’t he find the research that the Dark Lord needed in Britain? He could hardly imagine what information could be hidden in rural, western Ireland. Granted, there was a significant network of caves, but few magical folk lived there. There was no heavy industry, only farms and shipping companies. Whatever the Dark Lord was looking for, Regulus was sure that the answer could be found elsewhere. But perhaps the visit would turn out for good. Perhaps Liam would understand the necessity of Regulus’ actions, and maybe even see the good at the root of the Dark Lord’s plans. Regulus pondered all of these possibilities as he waited in the foyer at 12 Grimmauld Place. His mother had requested his presence for dinner, but she was late, as usual. Kreacher finally ushered him into an adjoining parlour and offered him a goblet of wine as the mantle clock ticked on. Finally, half an hour after he had arrived, Walburga Black appeared at the doorway. “Regulus, thank you for coming,” she said. He stood. “Of course. To what do I owe the honour?” “It’s very simple. Your father is ill. We have matters to discuss.” Regulus felt a knot form in his stomach. “I’m sorry?” “He needs to sign everything over to you before it’s too late,” Mrs. Black explained. “We must ensure that the estate passes to you properly, and we must discuss how you will take control of the family assets.” “Are, are you sure that it’s that serious?” Regulus asked hesitantly. “Why did you not tell me sooner?” Mrs. Black sighed and rested a hand on her forehead. Regulus noticed for the first time how tired she looked. Her formerly black hair had gone completely silver and seemed to stick out at odd angles from her tightly pulled bun. Her skin was sallow in contrast to her midnight blue robes, and only a hint of pink in her cheeks made her appear alive. Her hazel eyes, so often sharp and examining, instead appeared weary, framed by red and deep-lined eyelids. “We’ve tried to do what we can,” she stated, folding her arms. “We all have our respective functions in this family. Your father and I felt that we needed to let you spread your wings and that you need not be burdened by these troubles. This day would come soon enough. It’s time for you to take your place and assume your familial duties.” “Which include?” “For now, managing your father’s affairs and ensuring that our family name remains held in high regard,” Mrs. Black instructed. “Eventually, of course, you’ll need to find a suitable bride.” “I do hope that this stipulation is not on our list of topics for discussion today,” Regulus pleaded. Mrs. Black walked closer to her son and he straightened as she placed something on the nearby table with a small thump. “I know you never asked for this,” she began. “I’m sorry that you aren’t better prepared for it, but we have to deal with the lot that is given us. You need to take these responsibilities now, and I expect you to do so with dignity.” “Naturally, Mother. I will do my best,” Regulus agreed. “May I see Father?” She nodded. “He’s waiting in the dining room. I wanted to make sure that you understood the gravity of the situation. You may not see him again.” Regulus swallowed. “I understand. Is there a notary?” “Yes. We’ll take care of business first and then eat.” “All right,” Regulus said. “Please, give me a moment. I will join you soon.” She turned and shuffled out of the room, closing the door behind her. Regulus sank into his chair again and stared at the family tapestry on the wall. He had known that the day would come, but he had not expected it to come so soon. Everything in the room seemed to speak of his family duties, from his ancient silver goblet to the gold locket resting on his father’s desk. They whispered responsibility and honour into his ears, and he felt as if his soul was being shorn in two. He had a duty to the Dark Lord, and he had a duty to the noble House of Black, duties that could potentially come into conflict. But more than duty, he was about to lose his father. Even if they weren’t particularly close, his throat constricted at the thought. Regulus looked to see what his mother had placed on the table. It was a ring, his father’s signet ring. He picked it up and turned it around, examining his family crest and the inlaid patterns in the gold. The men of his family had worn the ring for generations. To put it on would signify his acceptance of this role. He passed it between his palms, eyeing the tapestry once again. Finally, he slipped it on his hand. The tapestry shifted: a miniature ring passed down the family tree from Orion Black to his son, past the burned hole where Sirius’ name should have been. The ring moved to the only name left: Regulus Arcturus Black. ~~~~~~ Five months and fourteen academic credits later, and Chapter 12 appears. Thank you for reading my work and understanding the plight of a college student. Like Regulus, my time is not my own. Happily, I can say that my university is a kinder master than Lord Voldemort. Special thanks to Cygnus and Arnel for their beta skills. Thanks also to both new and old readers, especially those readers who know me as more than just Wings. Your curiosity and constant questioning make this worthwhile. This chapter is dedicated to Winglyt in anticipation of her catching up on her required reading list. ;)
|