It Wasn't Like He Set Out This Morning To Darken The Shelves Of The Apothecary With His Mood, But He

Since Sirius abandoned him, Regulus had felt his absence like a knife in his chest that he could never remove. It ached and it burned, but slowly over time the pain had dulled as time and distance stretched between them. It was ever present, but duller. Asking after Sirius when speaking to Andromeda had been the first time in a long time that he'd said his brother's name out loud, and that itself had shaken him. Seeing his brother in the flesh, cool and unbothered by his summons, threatened to rob Regulus of the very air in his lungs as that aching burn returned. "I'm sure they have their reasons," he said, eyeing the chair beside Sirius before he chose to remain stood stiffly. "You...you're no longer part of this family, the aurors should know to exclude you from this. Unless...it's not really to do with an heirloom at all," Regulus said, wondering if any of Sirius' perfectly good friends were aurors.

Sirius leaned back lazily in his chair, the perfect image of indifference as he crossed one ankle over the other. Despite his display of ease and disinterest, he was observant and watchful, curious what he was called he for and on alert in case it was all more than it seemed. He couldn't fathom what Black artefact would be drawn back to him, well aware his mother would do anything she could to stop him getting his hands on any Black heirlooms. He glanced behind him as the door opened, carefully hiding his surprise as his brother walked in the door. "The same reason you're here, I'd imagine. Though if you're here I'm not sure why they've asked me to come."

"Hey, look at me," Reg's voice was gentle as he reached to put his hand on Caradoc's cheek, stroking his thumb across his cheekbones. "Being interrogated may put your life in danger if they find out about us, so we need to prevent that. I will fight with you. Don't feel guilt about that, please...this is my choice. I knew the risks when I realised we were on opposing sides and we carried on anyways, and I know the risks even more now that I'm defecting. I might be a pretty poor Death Eater, but I can still hold my own in a fight. I don't want you worrying about me, or feeling guilty. We'll do this together, okay?" Reg said, knowing that Caradoc would continue to feel guilt but hoping to offset it somehow. He just hoped that Caradoc still felt their relationship was worth the added risk.

Shifting up onto the couch, Reg cast another quick diagnostic spell to ensure he hadn't missed anything drastic before he set his wand down on the side. He tucked his feet underneath himself, leaning his head gingerly against Caradoc's shoulder. "It's so strange to me that your parents have chosen ignorance over all of this. That they would rather be blind to the war, than take precautions. Muggle behaviours are....odd."

Caradoc squeezed his eyes shut. If Regulus’ cover was blown because of him . . . He could already feel the waves of guilt hitting him. That was more painful than any injury inflicted on him could be. “Only if you must. Only if my life is in danger. If it’s anything else, you need to stay with your cover. I can handle being hurt by them, or being interrogated. What I cannot handle is you suffering in an effort to save me.”

He opened his eyes again, grasping his boyfriend’s hands. There were probably a couple more healing spells he needed, but they could wait. He just wanted to spend time with Regulus and relax. Caradoc patted the space next to him. “Please?” He said. “I don’t want to think about the mission anymore.” Caradoc sighed, leaning back against the cushions. “Merlin, if my parents knew . . .” He laughed out loud. “I cannot imagine what they’d think.”

Sighing longingly at Nick's words, Cassie thought that perhaps she was long overdue a proper vacation. Even when she went away, she still seemed to end up bombarded with owls asking for advice. Perhaps if she went international that was less likely to occur. "I don't want to dash your dreams, Nick, but I'm a perpetually busy healer. I rarely have time to get up to anything exciting. I can tell you some of the most exciting wounds I've healed recently if you want."

"Blue seas and cloudless skies. It was the anti-Britain." Nick said with a sigh. He did miss the views, even if the company here was much better. Clinking his glass against hers he took a sip and gave her a look over. "What did I miss, then? Surely you've done something exciting. Emir was a bore when I asked him."

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.

Up until now, Regulus had been incredibly careful about those he'd spoken to about his changing allegiances. He'd asked Edgar to honour that by keeping the true source of the information anonymous, and keeping the circle of protectors as small as possible. If he didn't accept James as a protector, that was a loose end and a risk. It infuriated him that this situation was clearly Edgar trying to honour Regulus' demands, and therefore he had been the harbinger of his own doom (if one wanted to be so dramatic, which he did). This would require a lot of contact with James, which he vehemently did not want.

Reg shrugged his shoulders, glancing down at his shoes. "Nobody likes wet socks," he murmured. When everything else was spiralling out of his control, wet socks was something entirely stupid and mundane that he could indeed control. As James settled the bottle back down, Reg snatched it up again and took another long swig. "I don't think you want me going anywhere near your head with a wand at the moment, not given how much firewhiskey I've just swigged. If you want to take the risk though..." he trailed off, quirking an eyebrow in James' direction. "What sort of test? Do you want to pinch me to make sure I'm real? I assure you this is actually happening, despite every atom of my body fucking begging for it to be a nightmare. I'm not sure even the Dark Lord himself could conjure up this particular situation, and yet Edgar Bones has just....well."

"What's not to understand? Edgar told you the situation, I assume. You volunteered because you're a hero and that's what heroes do, and unfortunately, the person is me. Here to continually disappoint people, as ever," he offered James a tight smile - a mask of protection. "My conscience finally won over my people-pleasing nature. I expect it will kill me, but that's the risk I've accepted. I'm sure if you go to Edgar and explain, he'll let you out of this assignment."

The universe was very clearly playing a prank on him. It was obvious. After twelve years of dishing them out, now, finally, his punishment had come, some kind of divine retribution in the form of this sick practical joke – and not a very funny one, at that. James bitterly willed the universe to try harder. He'd always felt justice would come back around to bite him in the arse one day, but couldn't have in his wildest dreams predicted something like this: Regulus Black, betraying his family’s cause, under James’ protection. The whole thing was outrageous.

Despite everything, he let out a breath of laughter. "It was getting into your socks," he repeated, amused, as if it were the most nonsensical thing in the world. To be honest, everything in this room right now seemed to be nonsensical. Walking around the table, he picked up the bottle and took a swig. Face immediately soured at the taste. He replaced it on the table, sliding it across towards Regulus. "I'll obliviate you, you obliviate me?" he suggested. "I can't believe this is happening. Surely it's not real. Is it a test, d'you think?" He nodded. "I think we might be, too."

James chewed his bottom lip. "Okay, you're going to have to explain what's happening here, because I don't understand."

As he approached the table, whatever the patrons had been muttering ceased and their conversation dried up. With a cool stare, Fenrir asked them again if there was anything he could help with, and was greeted with silence. With a shrug, he turned to head back towards the kitchen to get back to cooking. He'd made half a step in that direction when his eyes met those of a woman who he didn't seem to recognise, but the woman was evidently trying to stare a hole through his head. "Can I help you?" he asked curtly.

This was not Aurora's usually spot, but she had a request for a certain star chart from a client. Walking through knockturn alley left her a little on edge. Finding her seat at table four, she sat with a mug of coffee, taking a sip, sort of entertained by the table in front of her, listening to them complain. Though, that amused feeling instantly shift to dread when she saw who came out approaching the table beside her. She knew Fenrir Greyback, the stories told of the one who turned Remus. The table in front of her instantly ceased any complaint. There was a chance he would turn and not notice her, but their eyes met.

Aurora had a few run-ins with Fenrir, this strong part of her wanting to make him feel the pain Remus did.

"I don't have cheese fondue nearly as often as I want to. Unfortunately I haven't convinced my five year old son that cheese fondue is delicious yet, so my recipes at home have shrunk down to kid friendly meals...which mostly means chicken nuggets," Fenrir said with a snort. "Grilled peaches and goats cheese sounds incredible. I feel like that would be good with some spice to cut through the sweetness of the peaches, some fresh chili on top perhaps. Yes, I'll owl it across to you later once my shift finishes. No point you trying to make an imitation, I don't mind sharing my recipe."

"It is one of my favorite cheeses. I always use it when I make fondue. Oh, goat's cheese is lovely, I prefer it paired with fruits or vegetables in a cold dish, rather than a main, if I'm honest. It is more of a summer cheese for me, I made a good salad with grilled peaches and goats cheese in my book that I've heard good reviews about from people that have tried it." Balsamic vinegar, leeks and goats cheese worked well together, she could see the recipe it come together in her head when he described it. "Really? Oh please, that would be lovely."

Fenrir knew the importance of showing his face, and he would normally do it without complaint - although his mood would vary depending on the company. Not only did his appearances solidify his position as someone useful to the cause, regardless of whether the Dark Lord deemed him worthy to be marked, but he was a leader of a growing pack of magical beasts and their influence would steadily grow if everything went to plan. Still, following on from them making their relationship official, Fenrir could think of little else as important as spending time with Pandora. "I know you do...and I have so many creative ways to keep you warm my darling," he said with a smirk, his hands settling on her hips as he held her up with ease.

Frowning briefly at the mention of Bellatrix, Fenrir considered the initial impact that the magic of the clock had. "Will she be able to use it to see the secret I revealed? Bellatrix's interest is a dangerous thing to play with. If you give her the artefact, she may start pressing for more."

Pandora hated those stuffy gala's and functions she was expected to go to because of her last name. She did not care for the people, one that did not like crowded places and overstimulation. Mostly whey she kept to herself. The two of them going away was true to who they were and she wouldn't let anyone take that away from her. Octavius seemed fine with her not there, though she didn't tell him the whole truth of what she was doing. "I like when you keep me warm." A squeaks errupts from her lips when he turns to pick her up, legs and arms wrapping around their respective areas. A satisfied smile forms on her lips, eyes meeting. "I do like this way better." She always felt safe in his arms. "And I like the warmth that comes off you.

She trusted Fenrir, and knew he would be honest with her. "Bellatrix is interested in the clock. I've got it to work, our magic is bound around it and will have no effect on us. Do I give it to her?"

The conflict waging war within him was almost like nothing he’d ever felt before. With Sirius, Regulus felt a personal betrayal at the loss of his brother. He had always liked Andromeda, but the betrayal didn’t cut as deep. Yet he stood in Diagon Alley reflecting on the creeping darkness that felt like it could suffocate him, and here was his cousin who had carved a life she clearly enjoyed and had fought so fiercely to protect and keep. He knew what he had been taught to believe, he knew he should think that his niece was a filthy abomination, and yet when he looked at the girl innocently eating her sugar quill all he saw was a child that had a future in front of them. Tucking his hands back in his pockets, he inclined his head slightly as Andromeda gestured. “I understand,” he murmured quietly. “I don’t…I can’t agree with it, but I understand why you made your choices,” he offered.

He just wished she understood the pressure that the loss of herself and Sirius had placed onto their younger siblings shoulders – pressure to be perfect, to uphold the family standards, to never step a foot out of line. It was an impossible ask, and yet it was the life Regulus led. “Good for you,” he said, a hint of bitterness in his tone. He missed his brother. “It’s not the job my parents wanted for me, but I love researching and carving new ground. They wanted a diplomat,” he shrugged, having little interest in politics. A slight frown curved over his brow as he considered whether he was happy, and all he could offer was “I love my job.” His life was a mess, and it was only getting worse. “I’m glad that you’re happy…I’m glad you’ve found a good life,” he whispered. “Is Sirius happy?”

Andromeda couldn’t help the way her heart clenched at the sight of Regulus speaking with Dora. Dora was always surrounded by people who loved her, true family and family made from friendships. But to see her with Regulus, she wished Dora could have a relationship with her family. But she’d resigned herself to the idea it would likely never happen. Still, to see the way Dora smiled at Regulus and whispered a ‘thank you’ as she took the sugar quill made her heart ache for what could be. “I did.” She agreed. “And I’ll never regret making the choice I did.” A weak laugh as she gestured down at Dora before her eyes returned to him. “How can I regret this? A life without Ted, a life without her. It wouldn’t have been one worth living, regardless of what the family says.”

“It’s good to have family, however little of it Sirius and I may have left.” She agreed with a weak smile. “It’s good for both of us, and for Dora.” She wanted to tell Regulus that he was welcome to visit too, that he would always be her family. But she wasn’t willing to push, not when she knew such a suggestion could be met with derision and a nasty comment. “I’m glad, you’ve always been brilliant. I’m glad the ministry sees that.” She glanced down at Dora, too entranced in her treat to pay attention to anything else going on around her. “We’re good. Happy.” She assured him, looking up at him and smiling. “I hope you are too…happy that is.” A moments pause. “I know none of you want anything to do with me. But that doesn’t change anything for me. I wish nothing but happiness for all of you.” She wanted to say that she loved them all, missed them every day. But she wasn’t sure she could bear to show any further weakness.